One Direction One Shots 2

17 Year Old (Harry)

“Oh, he’s cute.”

“Ya, cute like my grandma’s cute. Seriously? Harry’s such a…weakling, you know?”

“Ya the kid has so much potential and he wastes his time singing in choir and, what does he do? Tennis? He plays tennis (y/n). Tennis.”

I fiddled with my thumbs. My gaze hadn’t left the man over the café counter for the last half hour.

Harry Styles was definitely one for the books. Ya, he’s 17, but you have to admit, that man could stare a woman to orgasm.

He knotted his eyebrows as he molded the dough and his fingers - fuck his fingers - sprinkled more flour on the thick paste.

His knuckles kneaded the dough as he bit his lip in concentration. His jaw clenched, again, as that vein perfect for placing your mouth on strained against his neck.

My friends blabbered on about Jackson or Nick or who gives a fuck, especially since Harry Styles was right there, mindlessly looking sexy as ever.

“We’re gonna go, gotta pick out dresses for tonight!”

“Yeah, tonight, bye.”

I could feel the stares but who cares, because Harry Styles was right there moving his muscles against his shirt and bobbing his Adam’s apple as he hummed some show tune or rock song, who knows.

I turned back to my table, crossing my legs in a mindless attempt to get any movement to my lower area.

I sipped my coffee, cold. I looked outside, rainy—perfect.

“Erm, we’re about to close but, you could stay ‘ere till it stops rainin’, if ya like?”

The place had emptied and the time had past quickly as it was only Harry Styles and me in the shop.

“Sure, thanks.”

He gave this cheeky smile, so unlike him. His dimple became prominent and his face read something not too familiar to me.

He cleaned, mostly. He also shared looks with me that made me feel a lot better about the fact I was missing that event tonight, whatever that event was.

“(y/n), right?”

“Yeah.”

He nodded to himself and mumbled something under his breath.

I chewed on my bottom lip and pulled at the tank top I was wearing.

It had seemed so sunny earlier, though…

“Hey I’m just gonna go dump this real quick.”

I nodded.

“Stay right there,” he winked as he walked out back.

I was never the patient one.

I stood and had nothing to admire in the shop, so I followed Harry’s path. I saw a piece of wood holding the door open; I tilted my head and kicked at the flimsy plywood, knocking it out of place. I stepped over it and looked up to see Harry Styles with a cigarette between those slim, long fingers of his.

“Harry Styles smokes?”

“Erm, don’t tell anyone. I only do it sometimes, but trust me, I’ve done a lot worse.”