Show Me (A Harry Styles Fanfiction)

Chapter Ten - Everything About You

I still feel it every time,

It's just something that you do,

Now ask me why I want to.

It's everything about you, you.

- "Everything About You", One Direction

....

Mortification poured over me like a faucet on full blast. I froze, my mouth falling open, and I just sat there stupidly. Harry disentangled himself from me and straightened his shirt.

My face was clammy and pale as I looked up at my dad's enraged expression. "Who the fuck are you?" he snarled to Harry again.

"Hey," he said calmly to my father as he got to his feet. He held out his hand. His back was to me - I wished desperately to see his face. "I'm Harry. Nice to meet you, sir." I gave a small moan of anguish and dropped my face in my hands. This couldn't be happening.

My dad stared down at Harry's hand as if it was covered in leeches. "Harry Styles?" he grumbled.

What?

Harry's back stiffened the slightest bit. "Yes, sir, that's me."

"I've heard about you." My dad's anger seemed to dim a shade. "I'm a psychiatrist - I've had some retired teachers come in and mention you."

Harry cleared his throat - which I thought was to cover a laugh. He finally dropped his hand. "Yeah, well."

My father examined Harry for a few moments, Titanic still humming on in the background. He finally turned his blazing eyes to me, and I swallowed nervously. "Al...what do you want for dinner? I can make you two...something." His gaze flickered back to Harry.

I jumped up, hurrying into the kitchen without meeting his stare. "I've got it covered, Dad." The last thing I wanted was for my dad to slip rat poisoning into Harry's spaghetti.

As I rounded the corner, the faint fragrance of smoke and cologne tickled at my nostrils. I sighed a little, knowing Harry had followed me into the kitchen. I turned, and he was grinning.

"Just kill me now," I moaned, my head falling onto his chest.

His arms wrapped tightly around me, and he kissed my head. "Oh, hush, baby, it wasn't bad."

"He saw us!" I sighed, moving away from him and going to the refrigerator. I started sitting out noodles and various cheeses. Maybe a lasagna would cool Dad off.

Harry shrugged one shoulder. "Not like we were naked. Which..." He ran his tongue over his lips, his eyes rolling down my body. "I have yet to see."

The heat of my cheeks jacked up to danger levels, as I crossed to him and smacked him in the chest. It hurt my hand. "Shut up, Harry, he's in the next room!" I hissed, hurrying back do the stove.

"Yeah, yeah." He wandered after me, leaning over me as I sprayed the pan with cooking oil. "Need some help?"

I smiled up at him, the horror of my dad finding Harry practically dry-humping me fading out of my head momentarily. "I would love that."

And for the following half hour, I was preparing a lasagna with Harry Styles. It was cute, watching him get frustrated as he attempted to properly sprinkle the cheeses and layer the noodles. Whenever I giggled, he would only get more and more irritated. He finally gave up on the lasagna and went to get a salad together.

I watched him, awed, as he chopped the lettuce at top speed. Feeling a little envious, I smeared tomato sauce on the side of his face. His head snapped up and he glared at me. "Oh, you're gonna get it."