Hot (Harry Styles Fanfiction)

4

I finally brought him to where I actually lived. We stopped in front of my door; my fingernails were digging into the strap of my bag. Harry shoved his hands in his pockets and was staring at the ground. Was he nervous? I hoped he was. It wouldn’t come close to the uneasiness I was feeling.

I shuffled my feet.

"Well..." I started, hoping he would say something. But he disappointed me.

"OK. I'm going in now. Thanks for dropping me."

"Aria," his deep voice hummed quietly. I looked up at his face, a little taken aback by the small grin on it.

"I'll see you tomorrow. "

What? Oh he would not.

Harry chuckled after I voiced my thoughts.

"Yeah I will." He pursed his full lips and continued to stare at me. Abruptly he placed a hand on my shoulder, then spun around and walked away into the night.

Now what?

***

As expected, my parents weren't home yet. I fumbled to turn on the light. I

went up to my room and threw myself on the bed. As my thoughts wandered, tears sprung to my eyes and turned into full-fledged sobs as I thought about almost being harmed. I couldn't think past it. And I didn't want to think about Harry or tomorrow. I fell into a deep sleep, figuring I would work it all out tomorrow.

***

So far, nothing was working out. My dad spent ten minutes brooding at me in silence while my mother fumed out loud. It was really getting old now.

No matter what I did, I couldn't do anything right. Nor would I amount to much. I couldn’t even formulate words to tell them of my near and utter misfortune from the previous night.

The doorbell rang, pulling us out of our after party screech-fest, which really was done mostly by my mother.

We all looked at each other. Our faces read the same confusion; we were not expecting anyone. Something my parents did not like was unscheduled anything. I admit that I almost craved it sometimes. I welcomed most things that would break the strict life my parents had built as well as the flawless image they constantly tried to uphold.

My father glided out of the study to the front door, my mother and me behind him. After checking through the blinds, apparently deeming whomever was behind to be fit; he opened the door, surprising me with a smile crawling across his face.

"Harry!" he boomed happily. I froze. My mother pushed past me with a large smile.

"Oh Harry! " she cried. "What are you doing here? Come in!"

Dear god. Why was this happening? My parents were completely and so obviously smitten by him.