Maybe

9.

I had on all my clothes, except my pants, that was a struggle.

I wiggled, and jumped, to try to get into my skinny jeans, almost giving up.

"Having a nice ass can be a struggle sometimes." Harry said, standing at my bedroom door frame, smirking.

I rolled my eyes, at this point not even caring if he was here, watching me struggle.

I finally got them on, and I sighed in exhaustion.

I collapsed on to my bed, and rolled my eyes in annoyance, to find him still standing there.

"What do you want?" I whine, rolling over to my stomach, closing my eyes.

"There's a lot of things I want, from you, but we'll save that for later." he says, even with my eyes closed, I can hear the smirk in his voice.

"Fuck off." I mutter

He doesn't say anything, in response and I think he leaves, but unfortunately not when I feel the bed dip, beside me.

I ignore it, and keep my eyes closed, thinking that maybe if I keep it closed long enough, he'll go away.

I feel something warm on my arm, and I open my eyes to see what it is.

Oh, just Harry.

Wait no, Harry's tongue.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"Licking you." he answers, casually.

"I'm aware."

"Then why'd you ask?" he mutters, his eyes dropping to my lips.

"Oh I don't know, maybe because, that's-"

His lips crashed into mine, I don't react at first, but I give in when he runs his tongue across my lip, for entrance.

But then I stopped, beacause this always happends, aren't I supposed to hate Harry?

He runs his thumb across my bottom lip, "Why'd you stop?" he whispers.

"I hate you, Harry." I say, sitting up on my bed.

He smirked, "And why is that? I'm charming."

Usually I'd have a direct comeback, but this time I really questioned it.

Why did I hate Harry Styles?

His beautiful green eyes, his soft chocolate curls, his breathtaking smile, his dimples, his slight acent.

Yeah, his eyes that are always filled with lust for any girls in a 3 mile radius from him, chocolate curls that I'm sure other girls have ran hands through, his breathtaking smile, with his perfect lips that lie, and his dimples that make you think he innocent, and his slight accent that have you falling at your feet.

"I asked a question, babe." he mutters, catching his bottom lip between his teeth.

My eyes glanced to his lips before I looked at his lust filled eyes.

"That I'm not gonna answer."

He chuckled, "Because you don't have an answer."

But I did. I did have a answer. I hate Harry Styled with a passion.

Right?

>>