Bent. | h.s

the question game.

not proofread soz x

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you give me something to think about.

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"Princess," Harry calls out from his place on the couch.

"Hmm," 

"I know you're awake, you're not snoring."

"I don't snore," I scoff and I hear him laugh.

"Sure you don't,"

"What do you want, Styles?" 

"Oh, right," Harry mumbles, "Wanna play a game?" it takes him a while to ask and for a minute I actually think he's fallen asleep. "Does it involve me getting up?" I ask and he laughs again. "Not really, no."

"Sure."

"Oh, didn't think you'd actually say yes, okay," he says sounding surprised then stops to think for a moment, "How 'bout the questions game?"

"What's that?"

"You know, we'll ask each other questions, back and forth, and if one of us doesn't want to answer, we pass."

"So, like, 20 questions but less annoying."

"Well, yeah, I'm not a f.uckboy, princess," he mocks and I hear a fumbling sound from his side of the room and figure he's probably switching to sleep on his face, something that he likes to do when he's talking to me from the couch.

"Right, you wouldn't ask about my virginity," I joke and the noise stops.

"I don't need to know about that, yes."

"Sure you don't."

"F.uck, well I didn't until you, forget it." 

"You're adorable when you're flustered,"

"Thanks, exactly what every man would want to hear." he muttered and I could almost hear the pout in his voice.

"Well, I'm not." I add with a small laugh.

"You're not what?"

"A virgin."

"Oh, yeah, I thought so," Harry says in an unsure voice then I hear more noise, followed by a big thud. "F.uck, I mean, you're hot, so you must've, you know,"

"Did you fall off the couch?"

"Yeah,"

"Ask the d.amn question, Styles." I sigh.

"Right, yes," Harry knocks something off from the coffee table and whispers an apology, sitting back on the couch, "Erm, what do you think of tattoo's?"

"They're okay, I wouldn't get any, but they're cool for the one's who are into them I guess."

"Why wouldn't you, f.uck, I'm sorry it's your turn."

"No, what were you gonna ask?"

"Why wouldn't you get a tattoo?" he asks,

"I tend to regret things a lot, so I might as well not do add up to the list."

"But why would you regret it?" 

"I guess I'll just find a reason to hate it and I'll regret ever getting it. I'm not exactly good with permanent things."

Harry takes a while before he says anything as if he's mulling my answer over, "Hmm, your turn." he murmurs, 

"I can't think of anything that wasn't already asked in an interview," I joke.