Prince of Playboys (A Haylor Fanfic)

10 ~ Forceful

    I check again my things in my black luggage. I have to make sure that I have everything I need before going to New York. "Hmm... favorite clothes; check. headphones; check. Toothbrush and toothpaste; check," I said as recheck all my things.

  I check the clock. It is ten-thirty in the evening.

   "How about the camera?" A familiar made my head whipped up to face him.

   "Oh yeah. Thanks for the reminder," I mumbled. Harry has been watching me pack up ever since he showed up. It was kinda awkward for me to have somebody watching your ever move. It's kinda like a stalker.

    I got up to get my camera on the bedside table. While Harry wasn't looking, I snap a picture of him. I don't know why I did that.

    He looked up without hesitation. "What did you do that for?" He asked, irked by my actions.

    "Ah, nothing. I just feel like I taking pictures. Anyway, this would all be in our scrapbook," I answered in ease.

   "We don't have a scrapbook," he reasoned.

   I rolled my eyes, "We can always buy one in New York." Silence broke in.

   "So, since you're done packing, do you need a rest?" He asked thoughtfully, breaking the quiet sound. Weird, that's not like him. Either he is two-faced—one side is a playboy and the other a softie—or I'm just thinking crazy. I almost giggle at that thought.

   Shrugging mentally, I answered, "Sure. I could use some."

   He smirked at my reply, "Then come here and cuddle with me." He had his arms wide open.

   I open my mouth and then close it again. I shook my head, "Why should I cuddle with you?"

   "Because I'm soft, sweet-smelling and handsome," he winked.

   I rolled my eyes in disgust. "Such a playboy," I muttered.

   "I'm serious," he still had his familiar smirk on his face, "or do you want me to force you?"

   I laughed harshly, "As if you could make me!" He then spring up from his seat and started coming towards me in a blur. My mind was thinking slow as he suddenly pounced and grab me by my waist. "Hey!"

   "Gotcha, my pretty bird!" he laughed in triumphant as he forced me to lie down on the couch. He was on top of me and I yelp when my body hits on the cushion.

   "You're such a sick playboy! Release me at once!" I demanded with anger.

   "As if you could make me, princess," he smirked as he flick his finger on my cheek. I couldn't believe that he was my own words to backfire me! Now I am definitely angry.

   "Let me go!" I tried pushing away from me. It was no use. He is still on top of me.

   "With that body of yours and the way you wear, why should I?" His smirk grew bigger. He, though, was right about myself. I was wearing shorts and and a tank top. This actually makes me shift in discomfort.

   I strive to snarl at him, "Get off me!" I kept pounding his chest, but he didn't flinched.

   He leaned down to my ear. "Admit it. You actually enjoyed this, don't you?" He accuse and I shook my head. He whispered with his husky voice, "Maybe I could fuck you right now."

   I gasped loudly, "You–you mother-fucking dirty asshole!" I covered mouth abruptly.

   "Wow," he caressed my cheek with his finger, "Who knew that a proper lady like you could have such a dirty mouth." He moved his finger on my lips, "I kinda like that."