Cut Ropes (A One Direction Fanfiction)

15: Missed Calls

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“Niall called,” Harry said as I walked into the kitchen where he had prepared some bacon for both of us. I grabbed additional granola from the cupboard and ate it with my bacon; a hearty breakfast. 

I bit into my bacon. “Did he now?” 

I don’t understand how Harry can look so good in the morning. No human being can deny that Harry is good looking because he just is and there’s nothing you can do about it except want to indulge in him. That’s when you put aside his player, cocky, annoying persona that he carries with him everywhere he goes. Otherwise he’s just a pretty face.

“Yes. He’s worried about you. Zayn called too for the same reason,” he said. 

“What did you tell them?”

“You’re safe here with me.”

“And…?”

“Niall was okay with it and didn’t question it which is why I love that guy: he’s so carefree and cooperative. Zayn on the other hand decided to question my intentions but I assured him they were for the best.” He added a cocky grin to the end of his sentence that made me believe that he wasn’t telling the complete truth, but I was too tired to fight with him. 

Now that I think about it, I question Harry’s intentions too. I mean, why does he think he’s just able to waltz in and comfort me about the shit going on in my life. Why can he know everything about me? I know nothing about him or his family life. I don’t appreciate his manipulation game I feel that he’s playing. If he wants to sleep with me (of course he does let’s not deny that I mean I have a vagina and boobs and that’s all a man needs these days right?) then he could just say so rather than toying with me. 

“So,” I said, walking to clean my now empty plate. Good breakfast, I should thank him for that later…maybe. “You never explained to me your bloody knuckles last night,” I said as casually as I possibly could. 

He came behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. I stiffened. “It doesn’t matter now, love. What matters is that we had a good rest and now we must move on and go to our beloved literature class,” he whispered. 

“Or,” I turned around, still in his arms, except now my back was against the counter and I was facing him. “You could tell me what happened and we could skip class and have a little fun,” I winked, tracing the sparrows on his bare chest. He bit his lip. That should be illegal. 

He leaned down closer to my face, his lips just above mine as he looked between them and my eyes. “That sounds like the best thing I’ve ever heard you say,” he smirked. I returned the smirk and brought my body to touch his, barely rubbing his most sensitive area. He let out a low groan. 

“But,” he choked, getting his voice back to normal. “Classes come first my darling,” he said, tracing from my ear down my jawline and my lips, leaving them on fire. 

“Whatever you say, Mr. Styles,” I winked, and turned back around to the dishes, purposely brushing my bum on his front so he took a quick intake of breath. 

He walked away muttering “God damn.”

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“Jem and Scout,” the professor said. My seat next to Harry was something I was thinking I may be regretting due to our newly heated frenzy. It’s not easy to sit next to him when he’s wearing that black v-neck, never mind touching his perfectly rosy lips and brushing through his hair when he felt like it. I swear he’s doing it on purpose.