BFF. Harry Styles Imagine

BFF

Best friend’s brother is the one for me. My best friend Gemma has this wonderful brother who I adore so much. His name? Harry Styles. He has plump pink lips, curly brown hair that is oh so fluffy, green eyes, and the most amazing smile with dimples. We have been alone a couple of times before, every time we would get really close and try to kiss, someone always came home. Gemma thinks its cute that I have a crush on her younger brother who is only a year older than me. I think she invited me to this party for a reason to get me to tell Harry how I feel. “Who’s ready to play 7 minutes in heaven?” I heard someone yell out as we all gather around the table which is near a closet. “So (Y/N) its your turn, so now pick out of the hat” I drew an orange card that had an ‘H’ on it, automatically I knew it was Harry. How? Because he’s the only boy who’s name begins with an ‘H’ at this party. He takes me by my hand, leads me to the closet, closes the door, and locks it. My eyes go wide as I heard the door lock and my heart begins to beat fast. “(Y/N) I have a question…. Are you? You know. Seeing anyone?” “No Sir Styles I’m not” after I said that I felt a pair of soft, plump lips touch mine. The kiss was slow and it lingered which was a good thing, then he bought out the snail kisses

God how I now love those kisses that start from the chin, moves to the neck, moving down the collarbone, to my stomach, but he stops below my belly button. Now I know what I was missing out on whenever we couldn’t get to kiss. “Harry can I tell you something? Its pretty important and I think it might ruin our friendship” he stops and looks at me “I didn’t do anything to hurt you did I?” “No Harry. Its just that I like you and I only came to tell you how I felt.” he doesn’t respond which is not like him; he always has something to say. His actions spoke louder than the words he was going to say. His lips reattached themselves to mine, how they actually felt as if they belong to each other like how his heart belongs to me, and my heart belongs to him. The knock on the door told us that our time was up and that we had to get out. “My place?” he whispers to me as we walk out the door.