'Back To Life' - Harry Styles fanfic

Chapter 2

I woke with a start, sitting up in my bed in a cold sweat. His smirk still painted as clear as day in front of my eyes as I tried to blink it away. That night, all I had dreamt about was him. His deep green eyes, his coffee coloured curls. His defined jawline. That dimple. The curl of his deep pink lips, the way that they felt kissing my skin.

Oh God! Stop! Eleanor just stop!

I audibly moaned, rubbing at my eyes and smoothing my hair down. I shivered, feeling the cold around me. I leant forward to touch the radiator beside my bed. The heating had obviously gone off. I shouted out for my Mum but she never replied.

I yawned, stretched and climbed out of bed. I was dressed in a baggy black sweatshirt and a pair of black leggings, so was as warm as I could be. I quickly slipped into my slippers and walked downstairs.

My eyes scanned over a note my Mum had left me in the kitchen. Something along the lines of going out with her best friend Sue. I yawned again and walked forward to turn on the kettle. I jumped suddenly as my cat darted across the kitchen and into the living room. A few seconds later the door sounded.

"Charley? What's wrong? Don't be so silly! Charley! Ow!"

Her back was up, her tail on end. I tried calming her down but failed in doing so. Still being half-asleep, I stupidly attempted to pick her up. My careless move resulted in her scratching the skin on my shoulder, which was exposed due to the bagginess of my sweatshirt. My mind was all over the place and I opened the door without thinking. My breath immediately caught in my throat.

"You took your time. So, are you going to invite me in?"

There he was. Standing in my doorway, just as real as I remembered him. A smirk was playing on his lips, tugging them slightly to one side and exposing his dimple. I stuttered upon trying to find the words to say.

"I...I...w...what..are-"

Before I could attempt to string a sentence together, he leant forward and placed his palm on my exposed shoulder. I flinched at his touch. His hand was ice cold, but where his thumb brushed across the cat scratch, it stung slightly.

"You're hurt."

"I...I'm...fine..."

His face was inches from mine now and it wore an angry expression. His eyes suddenly locked onto mine and my own eyes felt as if they were burning into his. My head felt slightly fuzzy. His voice was deep and raspy and tinged with a slight tone of authority as he spoke.

"Let me in."

I nodded, allowing him in. I felt light-headed as he stepped into the hallway. He closed the door behind us and took my arm, leading me straight into the living room. My eyes darted to the top of the stairs where my cat was hissing and growling. I didn't have time to say or do anything. I was suddenly in the kitchen by the sink.

I watched as he brought his thumb away from the scratch, a thin line of blood stained it. He looked at it and then squeezed his eyes shut. His hand began to shake and then he quickly placed his thumb underneath the running water. The feeling in my head was so intense, my emotions were flipping back and forth like a mental game of table tennis.

I jumped as his hand came into contact with my skin again.

Again he brushed over the scratch, but blood was still slightly seeping out of it. I couldn't move. It was as if my feet were glued to the kitchen floor. My limbs were screaming at me to make them move, yet they remained stationary. His eyes locked with mine again and then he leant in. His eyebrows raised as he spoke.

"Hold still..."

Suddenly a warmth touched my shoulder and my eyes widened as I realised his lips were touching my skin. I felt his tongue slide very gently across the scratch and then a low growl seemed to echo from his throat. I could hear my heart pounding against my ribcage, but I was frozen to the spot I was standing in. He suddenly pulled away and in a blur he darted past me.