Idée Fixe (Harry Styles AU)

Three

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The masculine scent woke me up, filling my senses as I slowly gain consciousness. My bed was warm, too warm to be precise.

"Get off," I mumbled as I push Ivan away.

He turned to the other side, taking the sheets with him, "Hey!" I protest as I tried to cover my body.

"God, Ken. It's too early to start whinging!" His raspy voice sounds.

"You're taking my  blanket, wanker!"

He grunt before seating up and glaring at me, "What the hell?" His dirty blonde hair was a mess on top of his head, and the stubble on his chin was a lot thicker than usual. "This wanker you're assaulting," he put a hand on his chest, "Is the same wanker screwing you last night, princess."

"Fuck off," I laugh off his statement, sitting up.

"Good morning to you too," he said as he walk out of my room stark naked. "I'll prepare breakfast."

"Thanks!" I called as I get off my bed and slip on some clothes.

After receiving that weird gift — or whatever that was — last night, I called Ivan to stay the night. I can't afford to be alone, specially when someone's obviously messing with me.

I was really scared last night that I almost cried. If those lads followed me here, it's not safe. Still I'm not sure about that though, but nonetheless someone's trying to scare me.

Once fully dressed, I check myself on the mirror and fucked up to see a bloody hickey on my skin. Just where my neck and shoulders met.

"Ivan!" I shout, pretty sure that the guy next door would hear it. I stomped out of my room, fists balled and ready to beat the shit out of him.

"Hey?" he asked too innocently as he whisked some eggs. He was standing there, still naked in my kitchen. I'm used to it anyway but gah! He gave me damn marks!

"What the fuck is this?!" I pulled my shirt a little to the side to let him see his stupid mark. The centre isle separates the two of us and I want nothing but to jump to him and rip his head off.

"Don't you like it?" he asked with a brow raised.

"You motherfucker!" I reached for an egg and throw it directly to him. To my disappointment, he easily dodged it and hit the cupboard behind him. The shell made a cracking sound.  "I hate you so much!"

"But you weren't last night," he shrugged, taking the shit out of my sanity. I know he's doing this on purpose.

"Get dressed and get out of my flat," I said sternly. My eyes sent daggers to his way.

"Aww," he put down the bowl in his hands and walked towards me, "Alright. I'm sorry."

He stepped closer to where I was, he took slow and careful steps. "I won't do it next time, I promise," he raised his hand in apology.

"Who says there will be a next time?!" I'm probably lying but whatever I'm mad as hell.

"There's always next time and you know it, Ken," he teased, now draping his arms around my waist. He nuzzled his head on my neck, tickling me a little.

Ivan is a friend, and no other than that. I almost thought that he like me before, but when he dated some chick when we were still in college — which is pretty fine because that means our connection is clear — I knew he's just fucked up as I am. No strings attached; that's out label.