Abandoned (A Harry Styles FanFic)

Chapter 7

I should warn you, the readers, here that from now on there is a large amount of sexual content. There are many portions, including this chapter, that go in extreme detail about intimate scenes between characters. 

Chapter Seven

Harry and I drive out of town a ways, I'd say almost thirty minutes out and there is no longer industrialized buildings clogging my nose with smoke and rubbish smells. It smells fresh, new, enjoyable. As I drive, I can sense Harry look at me often for seconds at a time, but I never look back. I can't give him the satisfaction of knowing that I'm interested that he's looking. He is sort of quiet, I realize, soft-spoken at times. The radio and the wind blowing through our ears sums up the noise of our travels, and it is pleasant.

The sun has shown a little more since this morning and it's that beautiful time of day where it feels as though time could just stop right now and everything would be perfect. And there's this one path that Harry asked me to take, he said it led to no specific destination but the ride was pretty. Once we drove further down I began to smell lilacs, which is honestly my favorite smell in the world. I slowly press my brakes until it comes to a halt and Harry looks at me.

"Let's walk a bit," I say and he doesn't hesitate. He hops out of the car in a fluent motion and picks up his bag from the store along with the six pack. Harry and I walk a bit further down the road, probably a mile or so, until we come across a heavily smelling lilac field. Not going to lie, my knees get weak at the smell, and it was evident to Harry.

"Why don't we sit down her and crack some of these open?" he gestures to the beer and I can't possibly resist. He guides me into the field where he then lays his leather coat down for us to sit on.

"You know," I start as Harry uncaps a beer and passes it to me, "when Brandon told me that I was spending the evening with you, I pictured some heavily populated party that smelled like an intoxicated asswipe." He snickered at my comment.

"Well, I know that's not really your scene," he sips from his bottle, "I could tell from your last incident at the party," he purses his lips at me.

"You could tell what?" I say letting the alcohol slip onto my tongue and down my throat.

"That the after-party is your specialty," and he makes vicious eye contact with me. I hum in agreement and pleasure in a way. I'm glad he realized that my sexual attraction is stronger than my social attraction.

"Well, you're not wrong," I offer my agreement, "So what, you took me out this far so you could just fuck with me? Even though it's extremely obvious that I'm not interested?"

"I'm not trying to force you into anything, but I know you want to show me things that you can't admit that you do," and because his jacket is quite small and we're in very close quarters his hand ends up right by my ass. Which makes me feel squeamish on the inside, but on the outside you'd never know a thing.

"But doesn't it say something if you feel the need to get me drunk every time you want action?"

He ponders for a moment and now I feel in control again. He's stumped, I've got him now, "Well I just thought we'd pick up where we left off, and for me that was hard and for you that was drunk," he's not wrong. Man I hate when he's not wrong, "We have some unfinished business."

Before he could make a move, my instincts keep telling me to make a move first, so I do. I only have milliseconds to think but they feel longer than any regular second. And here I am, palms perspiring because of the tingling feeling in my brain, and here I am at a loss for words but talking so big. And here I am, supposed to be making a move and I haven't. Okay on the count of three, I promise myself, 1...2...3...I turn towards him and swing my leg to his other side, readjusting myself so that my legs are wrapped around his body while we face each other. My lips slowly yet hungrily suck on his sweet spot on his neck and I can feel him immediately grow from beneath me. I giggle, trying to make him feel like the weaker one, and he just fixes his lips on mine. I love the immediate power I have over him, his urges making themselves more prominent and my stomach twisting itself into an endless knot.