Pain: Her (Harry Styles Fan Fiction)

Chapter 55

"So," Harry parks outside my house and turns the ignition off. His hand gently lands on my thigh and squeezes as he shifts his body to face me, "should I come in?"

"Please?" I smile sweetly, "I don't want to be alone for the rest of the day." I say placing my hand on top of his that lied on my thigh. It's only three thirty and I would hate to see him go. Alan wouldn't mind, of course, and I'm hoping he stays until his family gets back from New York; and I just hope my mom will be okay with him staying here until night time. She may seem sweet now but I know it'll wear away; her kindness never lasts.

"Alright." when he leans into kiss me, his fingers grip my thigh tighter and as a weird instinct, my hand jumps from on top of his to his face to cup it. He pulls away smiling and our foreheads press together. He looks so sweet and his face is so warm under my touch. I run my thumb over his lip and kiss it one last time before completely detaching myself from him. He pouts and I laugh at his childlike expression.

"Don't." he grabs my hand to pull me back away from the door. Here we go again with the "I have to open the door for you." I groan and roll my eyes as he exists the car. He jogs in front to my side, opening my door and extending his arm for me to grab his hand.

"It feels nice out." he comments shutting the door behind me.

"I just hope it stays like this." we intertwine our fingers and I rest my head on his upper arm as we walk up to my front door.

"His car is here." he says looking at Alan's black Chevrolet truck, "he won't mind, right?" he turns to look at me.

"He loves you, don't worry. You could drop by naked and he'd probably join you." I say and he chuckles exposing his deep dimples that I grow to admire more and more every time I see them.

"Wait." he stops me before I open the door, "you're not going to tell him what happened, right?" a layer of worry shades his expression. Why would he think that I would tell him something like that? I mean, I am close to Alan but not that close. And even if we were I wouldn't tell him, mainly because there's nothing to tell or bring to his attention.

"No." I shake my head, "why would I?"

"No reason, just asking." he half smiles. When we walk into the house Alan is sitting on the couch in a red robe and slippers, holding a wine glass in his hand and reading a book while listening to some classical song. His glasses are resting on the bridge of his nose and I look to Harry who's already trying his hardest not to laugh.

"Alan?" I laugh and he looks up at me with a smile.

"How was your day?" Harry shuts the door and we both look at him trying to contain our laughter.

"You look...comfortable, your highness." Harry slides in his hands in his pocket with an amused smile.

"I am, Harold." he nods, "you have disturbed my tranquility."

...is he speaking with a British accent?

"Oh!" Harry laughs, "did we now?"

"Have you come to return my daughter?" he closes the book dramatically and removes his classes from his nose.

"I have." Harry plays along, furrowing his eyebrows as he places his hands on his hips.

"Give her to me." Alan demands.

What the hell is going on.

"You guys are weirdos." I move past Harry and sit myself on the couch and cross my legs. Alan finally chuckles after holding it in through out his little performance and he shakes Harry's hand.

"How are you, son?" they both take their seat and Alan turns the music off with his remote.

"I'm well, and you?"