Pink, Purple and Blue (Harry Styles fanfic)

Chapter 7

HEYYYYYYYYYY :)

I'm inna kinda weird happy mood rn, it's really weird. 

Anyway.

I know this chapter is short, I'm sorry. I was supposed to write the entire scene (you'll understand what I'm talking about while reading) but I'm not in the good mood for that and I need to work a bit on how I write those scenes, soooo yeah. Not today, sorry. There'll be more though, maybe not for a few chapters but if you non-existant guys want more I'll add some. 

Anyway, leave I comment or vote if you like it :)

Enjoy! :)

Chap 7

“You were amazing Harry-pooh!” I exclaimed once we were in my car on our way back to my/our (I didn’t really know how to call it by then) apartment. Harry had declined the invitation to hang out with the guys, saying he was tired, but everybody knew he just couldn’t stand to stay near Elounor any longer (and honestly, neither could I stand that bitch for another damn minute).

“What did you tell Louis in the changeroom?”

Well that was straight forward.

“What needed to be told.”

“Which exactly is?”

I smirked. I can play that game.

“What it is, and only what it is.”

He rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed by my non-answer.

“And it is...?”

“Nothing more and nothing less than what needed to be told.”

He sighed, realising how stubborn I could be.

“What do you want to do tonight?” I asked to change the subject.

“How about a movie?” he proposed.

“Sure,” I nodded.

“Not a love story,” he added, frowning.

“An horror movie then?”

“Good idea,” he smiled.

As soon as I got home, I took my laptop and plugged it in the TV. I picked a random horror movie I hadn’t watched yet, removed my makeup, put my pj on, made some Popcorn and then we just crashed on the couch with a blanket.

And not even half through it, I was bored as hell.

Gosh, this movie sucks.

Seriously, it wasn’t even a bit scary. At all. I was about to ask Harry if he wanted to choose another one when I realised...

That he was curled up in his blanket, looking like he was about to poop in his pants.

So I laughed. I laughed at him so hard.

“Oh shut up!” He threw a pillow at me.

“Is Harry-pooh scared over that goddamn bad movie?” I mocked.

He pouted and threw another pillow at me.

“Harry is afraid of scary movies!” I shouted like a hysteric five-year-old.

“Shut up!”

Another pillow.

“Make me!” I screamed, throwing a pillow back. “Harry’s afraid o-”

I couldn’t finish my sentence because Harry’s lips crashed on mine.

***

I seriously didn’t know what to think. I mean, we were both completely sober this time.

Maybe I should use some more self-control?

Dammit, I just can’t have self-control when he throws himself at me like that.

When the hell in my life have I ever had any self-control anyway?

But honestly, I felt good in his arms that morning, and there was no way I was going to get up until I absolutely needed to.

Unfortunately for me, Harry soon (too soon) began to wake up.

“Mornin’ Kaths,” he mumbled, his eyes opening a bit but closing right after. Then they snapped open. “Shit Kath I-”

“It’s okay,” I cut him off. “I’m going in the shower.” I saw him pass his fingers through his curls.

I don’t know why (notice the sarcasm here), but I felt like it was déjà vu.

When I got in the kitchen afterwards (in underwear because I didn’t feel like dressing up and it really didn’t matter by then), I was greeted by the smell of bacon. I sat at the counter and a plate of eggs, toast and bacon magically (okay, not so magically) appeared in front of me, as well as a cup of tea. Which, I could tell by the odor, was Yorkshire tea (okay, okay, not by the odor... It’s the only one he’d make anyway). I smiled at Harry.

I thanked him and he watched me eat. I knew he was searching a way to bring it up, so I did it for him.

“Say what you have to say, Pooh.”

Not in a cold or angry way. More in a soft way.

He sighed. “I just... don’t know, really. I mean, I want you and we somehow always end up sleeping together, but I...” he paused, searching for his words. “I’m not ready for more I think.”

I quieted down the hurt sensation in my chest with no big problem, I kinda knew it. “That’s alright Harry. I told you I can cope with a friend with benefits.”

“No!” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I mean... Gosh, I feel like I’m using you only by hearing that word.”

I sighed and bit my lips together in a straight line. “It’s not really using me if I enjoy it too. But if that’s really not what you want Harry, then you need to stop jumping on me all the time ‘cause I’m surely not the one who will stop you.”

And with that I got up and left the kitchen to go start some work.

***