Baby Lips

Chapter 19

“Wait... so you did what?” I choked out a laugh as a response to what Harry had just said.  
 
When Niall had bid us adieu to go up to his and Zayn’s room to order room service and sleep, I was under the impression that Zayn, Harry, and I would be incased in a glass case of awkward. But... I was pleasantly proved wrong for the most part. I had scooted in closer to Zayn with Harry on the other side of me, the two of them started up their normal boyish banter as I listened in and laughed along with them. 
 
I wasn’t sure if Zayn was totally aware of the weirdness between Harry and me, or if he had seen any of the magazines that claimed the two of us were “an item” but I tried to keep that thought in the back of my mind. Based on the way he was acting toward us told me he had no idea. 
 
Harry smiled, his eyes flicking to Zayn’s then back to mine. “I shaved my initials in his leg hair.” He let out another giggle and nodded toward Zayn. “Go on, show Scarlett what I did!” He said as he grasped his glass of alcohol, spinning the sour, clear liquid around in the glass, then throwing his head back and finishing it. I couldn’t even remember what number drink he was on... but it was quite a high one. 
 
Zayn shook his head and lifted his pant leg, I peeked under the table and saw the letters “HS” sloppily carved into the dark hair on his leg and instantly clutched my stomach in laugher. I wasn’t drunk... but I was feeling a buzz. And I knew if I was completely sober, I wouldn’t have found that practical joke quite as funny. 
 
As our laughter died down, I felt Zayn’s arm outstretch behind me; resting innocently on the edge of the booth’s black leathery seat behind me. Harry’s green eyes watched his arm intently the whole time, and narrowed when he realized what Zayn was doing. I looked at him, raising one full eyebrow in response. 
 
“Something wrong, Harry?” Zayn’s voice asked. His tone was different, like he knew he was pissing Harry off... but he just wanted to egg him on even more. Harry swallowed hard and looked up at him, he pressed his lips together to form a smile. It looked almost painful. 
 
“Nothing at all.” His eyes averted to mine. His stare almost causing me to cry out in pain. “I’ll be up in the room. 517.”  
 
“Uh- Okay. I’ll be up soon.” I shrugged up at him. He nodded toward Zayn and monotonously told us good night, then vanished. 
 
I let out a long breath through my pouted lips. Zayn’s fingertips lightly brushed my shoulder before he let his arm officially wrap about my upper body, pulling me a bit closer to him. I giggled as his soft whisper tickled my ear. 
 
“So... you’re a dancer?” He cooed. Our conversation had turned from friendly to intimate in a matter of seconds. Our faces were closer and the sensual tone in Zayn’s voice made my stomach squirm. 
 
“Well, was a dancer.” I smiled as he mirrored me.  
 
“What made you stop?” I tried not to focus on the way he delicately dragged his fingers in small circles over my white blazer that covered my bony shoulder. I blinked slowly before answering. 
 
“Oh... it’s, um, a long boring story.” I sighed. Honestly... I wasn’t quite sure if I wanted to open up to Zayn. Not here at least. I was going to have to drag in to many personal notes from my past that I’d rather keep quiet about until I needed to voice them. I smiled up at Zayn and quickly changed the subject to how amazing the show was, he laughed and went along with it. I could tell he thought something was up. 
 
Zayn and I chatted comfortably for longer than I had expected. Mostly about him because I didn’t really want to get back on any touchy subject about my past. Whether it being my dancing past or my Harry Styles past. I was surprised to hear about Zayn’s life before he was in One Direction. How he didn’t really fit in, which I found hard to believe with a face like his, and how he lacked a lot of the confidence he has now. We had just gotten done laughing at a small joke he made when he quickly glanced at his large, silver watch on his wrist. 
 
“Shit, it is late.” He chuckled and ran a hand through his jet black quiff. I bit my lip nervously as his arm left my shoulder. “We should probably head up to bed.” I laughed and folded my hands in my lap. 
 
“Yeah... yeah, totally.” I spoke quietly. I didn’t know what this sudden nervousness that hit me was about, but I tried to tell myself it was me worrying whether or not Zayn would finally try to kiss me and not the fact that I was going upstairs to sleep in the same room as Harry Styles. Crap, I don’t have pajamas. I suddenly thought as Zayn scooted out of the booth. I followed him. 
 
“I hope you had fun tonight. This was your first concert... right?” I nodded. In the heels I wore I wasn’t that much shorter than Zayn. I couldn’t help but remember Harry’s towering figure over me, even when I did wear heels.  
 
“Yeah, and it was amazing. You guys were amazing.” I told him for about the twentieth time that night. He smile and looked down at his shoes, but he quickly looked up at me and pecked his warm lips on my cheek before bringing me into a tight embrace. I inhaled his cologne deeply and smiled as he pulled away. 
 
“My rooms on the other side of the hotel. I trust you’ll be able to get to yours?” He winked at me. I grinned and slowly nodded my head. 
 
“Yeah, I think I can find my way.” I laughed as we said our final good byes and parted ways. I sighed, clutching my pink hand bag to my chest and making my way over to the golden elevators and punching the button labeled with an arrow pointing upwards with my index finger. My hands tapped impatiently on my purse until the doors pushed open and I pressed the fifth floor button and waited. 
 
My stomach churned. Was Harry going to be asleep? Will he be mad that I woke him up? Or will he be mad that I was out so late with Zayn? Or was he... jealous? I shook my head as the thought crossed my mind. Harry was not jealous. Harry wanted nothing to do with me. Maybe he wanted another snog... but nothing else. 
 
My eyes flicked over the room numbers on each of the creme colored doors until I saw the little gold numbers painted into the numerals 517. I took in a deep breath, my chest puffing up, then exhaled and watched as my chest and shoulders relaxed and deflated. I brought my balled fist up to the door, let it hover their for a moment, then knocked quietly. 
 
There was no response. I knocked again, a bit louder this time. 
 
“Harry?” I called his name after I received silence once again. I rolled my eyes and dug into my purse, hoping that a phone call would wake him up so he could finally  let me in. I searched for his number and pressed the device up to my ear, tapping my foot against the carpet of the hallway as I waited for him to answer. 
 
“Don’t bother.” I heard a gravely voice say from behind me. I knit my eyebrows together and turned to see Harry. His thick curls were wet as well as the swim trunks that stuck to his thighs. He had a towel wrapped around his neck and droplets of cold water trickled down his exposed torso. My eyes wandered his familiar upper body before snapping back up to make eye contact with him. 
 
“Finally.” I dropped my phone back in my purse and waited for him to use his room key to open the door so I could finally get some sleep. I blinked multiple times when he just stood there for one to many moments. “Well? Are you going to open the door... or what?” I crossed my arms. He smiled slowly... but it wasn’t a happy smile or jerky smirk. It was a I’m-about-to-tell-you-something-you-don’t-want-to-hear smile. I braced myself. 
 
“I, um, can’t exactly do that.” He spoke and pushed his wet mop of curls out of eyes. 
 
“And why is that, Harry?” I asked bringing my index finger and thumb to the bridge of my nose. Rubbing them against it to soothe my coming migraine. Harry nervously laughed. 
 
“I didn’t bring the key to the pool with me.” He spoke slowly. I closed my eyes and exhaled sharply.  
 
“Why the hell did you go to the pool this late at night?” I asked as anger rose in my voice. 
 
“Don’t question me.” He spat out in response. “I thought you would be back by the time I got back to let me in.” 
 
“How was I supposed to get in if I didn’t have a key?” I shouted in response then shuttered at the volume of my voice. I rubbed my heel of my balled fists against my eyes and tried not to growl out of frustration toward Harry. His stupidity made me want to rip my hair then rip his hair out and sell it on eBay and make a fortune while he cried in the corner with his big, bald head. God, he was such a twat. 
 
As I opened my eyes again and my blood began to simmer from it’s boiling state, I heard Harry’s muffled giggles. Causing my temper to shorten even more. 
 
“Guess I didn’t really think of that.” He shrugged his shoulders. I groaned and let my back fall against the door. I slid down and sat, throwing my head in my hands as my tangled hair fell in front of my face. I just want to go home. I thought. Why did I even come here in the first place? 
 
Harry knelt down beside me and rested his back against the door as he sat. I was still very tempted to pluck out each of his chocolately ringlets.  
 
“If you let me borrow your phone, I can call Paul to get the call the front desk.” Without looking over at him, I rummaged for my phone and tossed it in his lap. He sighed and tapped away, then spoke calmly to his and the rest of the boys’ body guard then handed the phone back to me after explaining the situation. 
 
“Does he think you're as stupid as I think you are?” I finally spoke and pushed my hair out of my face. Harry pushed out a laugh. 
 
“Wouldn’t be surprised.” I rolled my eyes at him and continued to shake my head, trying not to believe this was actually happening. “Paul said it might take a while since it is so late.” 
 
“Great. Awesome. I’m so glad.” I whispered under my breath. Harry sighed and began to towel-dry his wet skin. I tried my hardest not to watch in awe. Damn you and your six pack, Styles. I thought as Harry made the noise of a helicopter from his pouted lips. I looked over at him with narrowed eyes. 
 
“Well, what do we do while we wait?” He questioned as he crossed his arms over his bare chest. His biceps flexing slightly as he did so. I gulped and shook my head, replying in my usual sarcastic tone. 
 
“I don’t know, Harry, what do you want to do?” I rested my chin on my hand as I looked over to him. Harry turned his head down the hall, then back toward me. 
 
“There is a supply closet down there.” He pointed his thumb in the direction he just looked. “We could go in there for a quick bang.” He began to giggle as my eyes rolled again. But, I couldn’t help but laugh a little before I responded. 
 
“You’re disgusting.” I shook my head and turned my attention to my phone that was currently loading my Twitter timeline. I scrolled through meaningless tweets with my thumb until Harry’s voice once again spoke slowly. 
 
“Can I ask you a question?” I let my phone fall into my lap as I turned my attention toward him. I hated when people asked if they could ask a question. You just asked me a question... so what makes you think you can’t ask a second? 
 
“Shoot.” I replied. 
 
“Well... I once read something that I’ve always wanted to ask Danielle, but I thought it’d be a bit awkward, so I’m going to ask you since you were a dancer,” He explained before getting to the point, “if you’re going to do a performance with a man, like a dance together, is it true that the man and woman... have sex?”  
 
I let out a loud cackle. A laugh that I hadn’t used in awhile. A laugh that I only used when I found things extremely amusing. I looked up through my squinted eyes to see Harry’s face contorted into one of horror. 
 
“Are you laughing because it is true?” He asked urgently. “Oh, God... it is true isn’t it?” The shock in his voice only forced me to laugh harder, but I eventually calmed myself with deep breaths and pinches on my cheeks. 
 
“I mean... if you are a professional dancer, I’ve heard that is common.” I told the truth. Back when I danced, I heard several girls talking about their sisters and aunts and other women that they were related to who had had sex with their male dance partners. “They do it for the audience. So that...” I trailed off trying to find the right words. “So that they can get a feel for each other’s bodies. So that the dance is more natural and sensual.” Harry blinked. 
 
“So does that mean... you’ve done that?” I laughed again and shook my head. 
 
“No! No, no way. I was like seventeen dancing with men almost ten years older than me. That would be against the law.” Harry sighed, as if he was relieved.  
 
“But you have... had sex, haven’t you?” My shoulders tensed at the question. And my eyes widened as I contemplated my next words. Do I lie? Or do I tell the truth? But, telling someone that I am the biggest virgin they will ever meet and the closest I ever got to having sex was that one drunk night with you is probably a bit weird. 
 
“Oh... yeah.” I chose to lie. 
 
“Good.” Harry stared at the wall in front of us. I quirked an eyebrow at him. 
 
“Good?” I pushed out a laugh. “What would you have said if I would have said no?” Harry’s lips pulled into a smirk as he eyed me slowly. 
 
“I would have said we would have to change that. Tonight.” I gulped, my mind going frantic for a moment then keeping it’s cool as I remembered my lie that I would probably regret later. 
 
“Gross.” I huffed out. Harry kept his smirk on his face before speaking again. 
 
“Can I ask you another question?” I sighed at him; still annoyed at the fact he wouldn’t just ask the damn question. I nodded for him to go on. 
 
“Well, based on the way you were talking about it with Danielle... you seemed like you really enjoyed dancing.” I smiled at his small observation. “So... why don’t you do it anymore?”  
 
The second time I had gotten this question tonight. But this time... I wanted to answer. I didn’t really know why, but something about Harry made me just want to open up. Just tell him everything. He seemed trustworthy. He seemed like he wouldn’t judge based on your past or your choices. 
 
“Do you really want to know?” I asked him. His strawberry pink lips stretched into a warm smile and he nodded. I inhaled deeply before I began the epic tale of Scarlett McVay. 
 
“Well, I used to live in a suburb of Los Angeles with my mom and dad. It was a nice little town, but when I was about three my mom put me in dance classes. I used to hate it.” I laughed. “I would cry, I mean scream, when she would drag me into that studio and force those pink tights on my legs. But, I got older and started to actually like dancing. I took a lot of classes: jazz, tap, and modern, but the one I loved most was ballet.” I took a breath. “Even though it was a pain in the ass, I just... I just had some weird obsession with it.” 
 
“You still kind of do.” Harry whispered. I rolled my eyes and continued. 
 
“Anyway, I was about thirteen when my parents started to have arguments. And, I guess, I guess I never really paid attention to them because I was so caught up in dance and my school work but... one day my mom just wouldn’t stop crying and she told me it was because my father had an affair. A lot to put on a thirteen-year-old.” I shook my head, remembering my mother’s limp shoulders quivering in my arms as she sobbed into my neck about my father’s horrid mistake. “And my dad never liked how much I danced... he said it was a waste of time. But, anyway, my parents ended up separating then getting a divorce-” 
 
“I’m sorry, Scarlett.” Harry interrupted me. His voice calm, gentle. I shook my head. 
 
“It’s alright.” I shrugged. “But, instead of staying with my mother... like I intended too; my dad won full custody of me. He won it. Like I was just some item the two of them were auctioning off.” My face morphed into one of disgust. “So, I had to move across the country to New York City with my dad and that awful woman that ruined my parent’s marriage.” 
 
“She sounds like a real slut.” Harry added again. I laughed in agreement. 
 
“Oh, she was. But, now that I think of it, in a way to defy my dad and his idea that dance was bad for me... I joined the closest studio to our apartment building that I could find. And from then on I just, well, got really good.” I hated to sound full of myself, but ballet was the one thing I knew I was good at. “So good, that recruiters from the American School of Ballet were considering me, me, to join them after I graduated high school. And you know,” I added on my ramble. “I was one of the youngest girls in that New York studio to get the lead part in the end of the year show.” I shook my head as nostalgia hit me like a heavy brick. 
 
“But, while I was dancing so much and not having friends because of the new environment, I studied a lot and got really good grades because, well, I didn’t have a social life. And colleges were sending me letters left and right for me to join them. But I didn’t want to, because I wanted to go to school to dance and become famous and loved around the world.” I smiled as I spoke the words. “But,” My smile quickly faded. “then Oxford sent me a letter and a full paid scholarship and my dad refused to hear anything else. So, after my senior year show, I was forced to quit and move to England and study mathematics. And now here I am. Sitting outside of a hotel room because the member of a boy band that I’m sitting with was stupid enough to forget his key when he went to the pool at four o’clock in the morning.” I glared over at Harry. 
 
“Well, fuck.” Harry mumbled. I exhaled through my nose. 
 
“Yeah, but, what can you do right?” Harry weakly smiled in response. I sighed and reached to take off my constricting nude heels, wiggling my toes as the shoes came off and my feet could breathe again. “What about you? Do you have a sob story to tell?” Harry laughed and ran a hand through his hair, that was completely dry by now. 
 
“Not really. My parents are divorced, too. But, my step-dad is actually a great man. Other than that... my life is pretty boring.” I laughed at his response. 
 
“Boring? You’re in a boy band! You can practically hear every girl’s pants hitting the ground when you walk into a room.” I began combing my fingers through my hair. 
 
“Ah, every girl but one.” He looked over at me with a wink. My eyes rolled, again. But, my pervious comment got me thinking back to the night he curled up in my bed with tears down his precious little face. He said he was in Oxford to meet a woman... who? 
 
“Who were you meeting in Oxford the night you stayed at my flat?” I blurted out. I told you I wasn’t a fan of beating around the bush. Harry slowly turned to look at me, his tips twitching into a frown quickly then flicking back up in a lazy smile. 
 
“Do you really want to know?” He mocked my words. I smiled and nodded, mocking his actions before I spilled to him. I couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the same way about me. If he felt he could trust me in some odd way. 
 
“Caroline Flack.” He stated. The name sounded familiar. She hosted something. She did something important. I just couldn’t remember what. “She hosts the X-Factor.” Harry answered my mental questions. “We had... something going on for a while. Something really good, actually, but I don’t know there was the age difference and her constantly talking about starting a life together.” Harry screwed his face as he spoke. “And I don’t want to think about having a family, I’m eighteen and just wanted a good fuck from a hot older woman. But...” He trailed off. “I guess I got real feelings for her, I’m not sure if it was love but, I don’t know, it was something.” 
 
“When did you guys stop your... relationship?” I struggled to find a word to define Harry and Caroline. 
 
“About two months ago. She called me that night and told me to meet her at that pub so no cameras would follow us around. And... I don’t know, I guess I had just started to get over her and her mind games but once I saw her and we started talking; those feelings... they came back. And it was something I didn’t really know how to deal with.” Harry spoke slow, his eyes shifting from mine to the wall in front of us. “To be honest, you probably saved me from doing something I’d really regret that night.” He laughed. 
 
I smiled feeling a strange flutter in my stomach. “Well, I’m glad I could help.” I looked up at him through my thick eye lashes. 
 
The corners of Harry’s lips tugged upwards and his dimples deepened on either one of his cheeks. He was quite handsome, his features much more manly and charming than Zayn’s chiseled and exotic looks.  
 
“I’m glad, too.” Harry’s eyes fell from mine to my lips. His tongue flicking across his own lips before I could feel his face moving closer and closer. My eyes fluttered shut as I felt his nose brush mine, my lips quivering in anticipation when I heard someone clear their throat. 
 
Harry and I pulled apart quickly and got up to greet the well dressed man from the front desk who gave us a spare key. I kept my head low as Harry thanked the man and opened the door.