Torn

Chapter 22

June 2013

Selena...

The first thing I noticed as soon as consciousness slowly crept into my system was the heat. It surrounded me, but it wasn't stifling nor was it prickly, just...oddly comfortable. My muscles were slowly waking up but I was still too stubborn to get up. I tried to relax all my senses, but after about 10 minutes of doing so and sleep still refused to come back, I gave up, knowing it was all done in vain. I opened my eyes at the same time a yawn tore my mouth. After lazily stretching my limbs I made a move to get up, but that too was futile as a tatted arm slung on my waist, above the duvet pinned me under the covers. I sighed, lying back down, knowing Harry and his crazy sleeping habits; I won't be leaving this bed anytime soon. I turned my head, giggles that I had to stifle sounding from my lips as I saw the current pandemonium of his curls.

Jesus, this boy, did he do cartwheels in his sleep?

I gingerly pushed some of his ringlets off of his face. I would never admit it to him, but there was a certain truth to his jokes of me being a creeper. Besides it was only during the times that he was still asleep. His fans would often describe him as adorable, but I swear the word was actually an understatement when his features were softened by sleep – erasing all his woes and reminding me that this wise guy is indeed, still just a young man.

Vaguely I wondered how much I had to drink last night that I've forgotten even sleeping over with him. Though I didn't see a big deal out of it, he always took care of me during the times the alcohol got the better of me. I just hope he was able to sneak us out discreetly like he did during Jeff's party a few months ago; otherwise it'll be our faces on the headlines.

I do remember us dancing – the giggling resurfacing as I recalled his so-called 'moves'. But other than that everything was a bit hazy. Though I do recall bits and pieces of a funny dream that weirdly seems to have started from where we left off at the dance floor. But when another image enters my mind I am certain that's not entirely the case because there is no way in hell I'll end up kissing Harry Styles.

My heart begins to hammer in my chest as parts of my dream flashed inside my head, each one more vivid than the last. I don't know where my anxiety is coming from because just like I said it's just a dream. But when the images bring me to us ending in a very familiar bed, I can't reckon if dream is still an appropriate word to label it.

My breathing is ragged by the time the – by now I'm convinced – memories finished replaying in my mind. Immediately I become aware of details that I have foolishly overlooked since my lids opened up – the feel of my nakedness under the sheets, tingles on parts of my skin nipped by his teeth and a certain soreness between my thighs from being filled to the hilt by him. Heat flooded my insides once more, but a different one this time, as it made my blood sizzle with the recollection of him thrusting inside me. I know it isn't wise to be having these thoughts about a very close friend of mine – not to mention one who's a very recent ex of my best friend.

But I know there will be no truth if I say I didn't take pleasure in it one bit – the dried stickiness on my center is more than enough proof of that. I don't even remember any point where I declined anything.

Didn't they say that drunken thoughts are a sober man's words? Well in this case its actions, which honestly seem much, much worse.

I've always envied Taylor's relationship with him, but I reasoned it's just because of their connection that I craved to share with a man. I never let the negative emotion harbor towards destructive – until now.

I carefully wriggled out of his grasp and hastily gathered my haphazardly scattered clothing before rushing into the en-suite bathroom. I can't help but to gasp as my gaze fell onto the mirror, shock, wonder and ardor morphing into a nonplussed expression on my face as my eyes ghosted on each mark left by his teeth and tongue.