Lost and Insecure™ (Harry Styles) [✔] Completed

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"Harry, I... I'm not ready..." I said nervously.

"Is it because of your religious thing?" he asked seeming a little annoyed.

"No..."

"Then why? I promise I won't hurt you," he pushed a strand of my hair behind my ear.

"I want to, just not like this."

"What do you mean?"

"I... I..."

How do I say that? As much as it pains me to do it, the only way to tell him is to say it straight up.

"I was jealous," I said quietly, completely avoiding eye contact with him at all costs.

"Of Vivian? She's a pathetic whore. Don't be jealous of her, Jules. She wears way too much paint on her face for my liking anyway," he said soothingly.

I laughed, "She looks like a Barbie with incredibly bad Botox."

Harry smiled, but he didn't say anything.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Don't lie to me mister."

He still didn't say anything. Only this time, he brought his lips to my neck and started to leave kisses. A gasp left my parted lips as a new feeling of pleasure coursed through me. Harry smirked against the skin of my neck as he gently sucked on the spot.

My hands found their way into his curls as did his find their way up my shirt. He moved from the spot on my neck and removed his hands from underneath the fabrication of my shirt covering my top half. His lips found mine easily.

I was so distracted by the kiss that I hadn't even noticed he unzipped my shorts until he touched me over my underwear, causing me to let out a moan which Harry took as an invitation to dart his tongue into my mouth.

Harry's hand moved more roughly against the fabric protecting my most sensitive area, making me whimper his name a couple times. Then all of the sudden it stopped completely. I opened my eyes which had been closed tightly in pleasure and looked up at him. A smirk was playing on his lips.

"Now we're even," he said, the playful grin never leaving his face.

"What?"

"You turned me on in the theatre and then denied me, so I did the same to you. We're even."

"You're such a child."

"Unless you want to reopen that offer?" he wiggled his eyebrows.

"No. I'm still not ready. Besides, we're friends Harry, this wasn't supposed to happen."

Harry frowned at me. He got up from over top of me and went to his door opening it wide.

"If we're just friends then maybe you should get out."

"Harry, I-"

"Don't. Just go."

I nodded and got off of his bed. Once I got to the door, I opened my mouth to say something, but no words came out, so I turned and left.

When I got to my room, I closed the door and went straight to my closet. I picked out something simple for bed and laid it on my bed. As I brushed my hair out and put it into a ponytail, I couldn't stop thinking.

All I wanted to do was tell my mind to shut up and have it actually listen for once, but that never happens. It just reminds me constantly of how often I screw up. That's what I am, a screw up, and that's my specialty, I screw things up.

I stripped from my current clothes and put on what I'd picked from my closet. As I crawled into my bed I realised just how much I pity myself. Harry and I are most likely back to fighting again, but it's all my fault.

Tonight was one of those nights I felt like I needed him by my side, so I wore the shirt that he'd let me borrow one time and I still had yet to return. It gave me some comfort to at least have a piece of him near me, even if he is angry with me.

* * *

Harry and I were having another fight, but it was much worse. He got so bent out of shape that he threw his glass of water at the wall. It shattered into millions of little shards on the wall. They fell to the floor making quiet clinking sounds as they touched the hardwood floorboards.

I stared at the wall opposite of me as the water trickled down and made a small puddle on the floor. Tears were forming in my eyes, threatening the brim of my eyelids. When Harry started shouting again, they easily tumbled over and cascaded down my face.

Why was he doing this? What happened?

I couldn't remember.

"Just get out! I'll pay your rent myself!" he yelled.

And so that's what I did. I stuffed my two travel bags with every necessity and packed them full of as much clothing I could possibly fit. After zippering them, I put on my Converse and walked out of the room.

Tears were still streaming down my cheeks, staining them with my mascara. As I got to the door I recognised Harry's figure standing there; he was waiting. I hustled to the door and he swung it open. Once outside I heard the door slam, but not before he screamed something that broke my heart into smithereens.

"And never come back!"

* * *

"Juliet?" a voice asked worriedly. "Jules, it's me."

Right then I realised I was sitting straight up in a bed crying my eyes out. I looked round the room surrounding me and recognised it, it was my room at Harry's. But... What about what just happened?

"Juliet, it's alright," a familiar voice cooed.

The weight on the bed shifted and a hand rubbed my back soothingly. Soon I was pulled onto the lap of someone I still hadn't laid eyes on and gently rocked. Sniffling and gasps for air from nonstop crying were the only sounds besides the occasional comforting "Ssh".

I finally fathomed enough courage to look at my rescuer and saw that it was Harry. My eyes watered more, but I didn't say anything. Instead I held his face in my hands and crashed my lips into his. He was surely shocked at first, but didn't take long to reciprocate the kiss.

"I'm sorry," I apologised full-heartedly through my tears.

A gentle thumb was raised to softly wipe away my tears from my face.

"It's okay, Jules," Harry said with a reassuring smile before kissing my forehead.