15 Years // harry styles

chapter twenty two

B

"I'm going to murder that asshole," Rose grumbles, wringing out the bottom of her cotton shirt as we weave back through backstage.

Louis had thought it was a brilliant idea to pour his water on the two of us instead of Liam at the end of the set, which lead to soaked shirts, squeaky shoes, and Rose's sour mood.

The boys round a corner and start to walk towards us. Louis is first in line, and when he sees Rose, he drops his head and starts to walk much faster towards the dressing room.

"You," she hisses, catching him by the back of the shirt and dragging him with her down the hall. Niall and Liam duck into the dressing room, leaving Harry and I alone in the hallway.

Before I can think his arms are around me in a tight hug. I can hear his heavy breathing as I'm pressed against his chest.

"You were amazing," I say, beaming up at him when he finally loosens his grip. He doesn't say anything, he just kisses me, a bit more eager than usual, hands running through my hair. His tongue runs along my bottom lip and I shudder against him, my fingers knotting in his t shirt. I feed off his adrenaline, aching to get closer to him, not caring that we're in the middle of a hallway. He presses me closer to him with a flat hand on my lower back, but he hisses a little.

"Your shirt is freezing." His voice is low, his lips brushing mine as he speaks.

"Louis poured water on us," I breathe. I can feel the heat radiating off of him with every inhale he takes.

"Go find a shirt in the prep room, you can't go outside in that you'll freeze. Meet me back in the dressing room. Hurry." He presses a hard kiss to my lips before darting into the room and closing the door.

I hadn't realized I was breathing so hard until it's the only sound in the hallway. Slightly dizzy, I walk down the hall to the faint sound of music playing, luckily following the sound to the room marked for prep.

I open it and am met with a smell of fruity hair product and a smiling Rose.

"What's up?" is her greeting, and I can't help but laugh. She's lounging on the couch in a fresh black t-shirt, eating tater tots off a plastic plate.

"Looking for a shirt," I answer, gazing around the room.

"Ha, good luck, I literally stole this from Niall. Like he took it off his body and gave it to me. They packed up most the clothes already since we leave in a week, but there might be a spare shirt or two around here somewhere."

I feel my heart sink down, a sick twist in my stomach.

"You guys leave in a week? Leave for where?"

"Yeah, they've got the show night after tomorrow and then we have a week here before the Europe leg. I still don't know why we have one North American  show right now when the rest of the leg is so much later. They said something about publicity but I don't get it." Im sure she can sense my unease, because she backtracks. "I'm sure Harry's going to bring it up. He's very particular about that type of stuff, and timing. Just give him time and he'll talk to you about it, I promise."

I nod at her, surprised that the words of a girl I barely know can make the knot in my throat unravel. She's comforting in a way I've never experienced before.

She sits the plate down, starting to rummage through a pile of clothes on the floor. She picks up a black sheer shirt, which is patterned with a few roses at the top. The buttons are undone and it looks quite flimsy in her hand. I gulp.

"Oh dude, you have to wear this. He'll lose his mind." She smirks at me, and I can't help but blush deep red. "Don't worry man, everyone else is already gone or they're out on the stage. No ones gonna see you but him."

Her words pour confidence into my veins and I reach out and grab the shirt.

"That's my girl. Go get em." She smirks at me before heading out the door, leaving me alone.

I take a deep breath, staring at the fabric waded up in my hand.

Hurry. I hear Harry's voice in my head, and without allowing myself another doubt I pull my soaked shirt over my head, tossing it aside and sliding Harry's on, quickly fastening the buttons.

When I look in the mirror, I can hardly recognize myself. My hair is slightly tousled, my eyeliner a little smudged from the water earlier, my eyes wide and wild. The shirt is big on me, making the floral designs at the top land right over my bra, though you can still see it if you look close enough. I look... good.

My confidence boost falters slightly when the door swings open. I freeze, not even thinking to cover my practically-exposed torso as I look in the mirror to see whose there.

I sigh in relief when I realize it's only Harry, but the look in his eyes makes my heart race yet again. His gaze is smoldering as he watches me in the mirror, slinking up behind me. Hands slide around my hips, squeezing lightly as I feel hot lips press against my shoulder, burning right through the thin fabric. He peppers kisses up my neck, along my jaw, and my eyes flutter closed.

"For a girl whose never had a man, you sure as hell know how to seduce one," he breathes, his lips now right by my ear.

"Rose might have given some good advice," I say, gasping a little as he presses himself again me, my back flush with his chest.

"I always knew I liked Rose. But I must say, these roses, these I don't like so much." He taps at the design blocking the view of my bra as I watch in the mirror. I would have rolled my eyes and snorted at his awful joke if my skin didn't feel like it was on fire. I watch closely as his hands meet right by my collarbone, his breath fanning over my shoulder as he watches in the mirror alongside me, unbuttoning the top-most button of the shirt.

His hands trail down, down my sides with a feather light touch, over my hips and down my thighs before he reaches the end of the fabric. He slips his hands underneath it, and somehow his fingers feel ten degrees hotter against my bare skin as he traced back up, bringing the shirt up with it until his hands are at my bra, a slender finger tracing along the underwire. I can see my chest heaving with every breath but I can't seem to stop it.

"If only, you had another shirt with you. I could rip this one to shreds and leave it on the floor." His hands start to run their way down my torso again, removing themselves from my skin. There's an ache there in the absence of them.

"But alas, it looks like we might have to keep our clothes on for the night, thanks to Louis' shower. What a shame," he breaths the last part, nipping at my neck before taking my hand and starting to lead me out of the room on shaky legs. I can hear him murmur "two can play the teasing game B," but I ignore it, still hazy from his hands as I shield myself behind his broad torso the rest of the way to the car.