Heartbreaker [h.s.]

Chapter Nine

Another day of practice.

I walk into the studio with a newfound pep in my step. Sure, the insanely good hate sex with the man I despise most in the world might be the culprit behind it. But even more than that, I walk through the door into the weed scented room with hope that Harry will let up on me. He's gotta be tired by now, right? After our little bathroom rendezvous, his attitude, while still there, was noticeably better. Flirtatious, even. And I'm crossing my fingers that it's like that today. Only to preserve my sanity.

All I'm asking for is a smooth practice. No nitpicking. No verbal assault. No head games. Just a normal practice that isn't prolonged due to the fact that, I think, Harry derives pleasure from being a total asshole to me in particular.

As I open the heavy door into the studio I've become so accustomed to by now, I spot the boys all slumped on the couch. Despite the fact that it's 10 am, Louis has a beer in hand. Niall is passing Harry a joint as his eyes flit up and meet mine for the first since we hooked up. Amusement swirls in them, a cocky smirk lifting the edges of his mouth. "You're late," he announces with disdain.

I look at my phone for the time. "Only by 3 minutes. Don't be dramatic, Harry."

"Late is late." He takes a puff of the joint, a plume of smoke distorts his face that's grimacing at me.

"It's not my fault the subway was having issues," I huff back.

Handing back the joint to Niall, he leans back into the cracked leather couch. "I don't give a fuck. Shoulda planned for any kind of hiccup or roadblock. You were expected to be here 3 minutes ago, no excuses."

"Well it doesn't look like you're in any rush to start," I say, narrowing my eyes at him as he lazily sits there with dumb and dumber on either side of him.

"Maybe if you were here on time we could've started already," he replies with a smart ass grin that I want to slap off his face. "But now, I'm going to enjoy my joint and then we can get to practice. How's that sound, princess?" Winking at me, I could feel my blood pressure rising. We stare at each other intensely. My hope that he'd be nicer to me is swept away and now I'm just hoping that I don't bash his head in. No need to catch a felony charge over this dipshit.

Or get into a screaming match with him, although I feel one is imminent.

"You're such a fucking prick." I hiss.

Niall snickers at that, his head hung low and tugging at a loose string on the hem of his white tshirt. Louis is on his phone, trying to ignore us the best he can. But it's sorta hard to ignore the toxic and tense energy that settles in when Harry and I are in close quarters. And Harry sits there, picking the joint from Ni's fingers, and slowly raising it to his lips while simultaneously still staring me down. I watch intently as he inhales, not allowing my gaze to soften, even as I remember the way his mouth felt on mine—oddly soft, but urgent as they explored every inch of my lips. The smoke passes through his nostrils then clouding around him and as it disperses, I find his eyes still glued to me.