the cool side of the pillow {styles au}

thirty two

Playlist:

I Was Made For Loving You (ft. Ed Sheeran) - Tori Kelly

iT's YoU - ZAYN

Please Be Naked - The 1975

Saturn - Sleeping At Last

Dog Days Are Over - Florence + The Machine

Cleo's POV:

When my eyes open, all I can see is white. A giant cloud envelopes my head as I let the smoke roll out of my mouth. It takes a few seconds for the air to clear, and when it does, I see my boyfriend watching me with a small smile on his face. I hand the blunt to Harry, who gladly accepts it and takes a hit. He holds the smoke in his lungs way longer than I could, then puffs it all out in one exhale.

I'm lying on my back with my feet propped up on the headboard and Harry is on his stomach, holding his chin in one hand, blunt in the other. My eyes are shadowing his every movement as he inhales once again. This time though, he holds the smoke in his mouth. I'm so mesmerized that it takes me an obscene amount of time to realize he's leaning into me. Before I've even processed what's happening, Harry runs his thumb across my mouth and parts my lips. The gesture sends chills racing down my spine, and I let my eyes flutter shut. This is complete bliss.

Suddenly and unexpectedly, Harry's lips are on mine, and I immediately feel smoke pour into my mouth. As I inhale, he kisses me slowly and sensually. It's like when you first light a fire, a slow burn, one that continues to grow and gain strength, until eventually it's raging. Then I kill the moment by pulling away and blowing the smoke right in Harry's face, causing us to burst into a fit of giggles.

"You were right about the sex drive thing, holy shit," Harry says against my skin as he runs his mouth down the expanse of my throat.

"Mhmm."

My fingers weave intricate patterns through his unruly curls, as he slips one of the straps on my dress down my arm and delicately kisses the skin where my collar bone meets my shoulder. This is the exact moment my high smacks me in the face, and I let Harry's soft touch and my 'nap with babe' playlist carry me into a state of euphoria.

Two hours later, as Harry is rolling another blunt and I'm stepping out of the shower, my phone rings. I pick my phone up off the bathroom counter, answering it without looking.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Sparky."

"Hey, Pops. What's up?" I turn around and step onto Harry's carpeted floor, digging my toes into the fabric for warmth. My eyes flick towards Harry, and I notice he has finished rolling and is admiring me from across the room.

"Is this your sketch pad sitting on the coffee table?" my dad asks expectantly.

"Yeah, why?"

I take the five steps that separate myself from Harry and crawl into his lap so we're chest to chest and eye to eye. He leans forward and bumps my nose with his as his arms slide around my waist and pull me closer.

"Well, you left it open and Elliott happened to see it; she thinks you're very talented!"

"Well, tell her I say 'thanks'."

"She wanted to talk to you actually, if that's okay..."

My brow furrows in confusion, "Um... Sure."

There's some shuffling for a second and then Elliott's on the line, her soft voice barely audible, "Hey, Cleo."

"Hey," I respond. Harry's eyebrows raise inquisitively and he mouths 'who is it?'. To answer his question, I put the phone on speaker and allow him to listen in on the conversation.