Hidden Secrets (Harry Styles)

Chapter 22

It was nearly 11 o’clock on a Tuesday, and I just got home from the bar. I just wanted a relaxing evening of blogging and Netflix.

Shockingly, I’m actually happy at this point. Harry and I are on better terms, especially since we talked it out last week. I haven’t seen him since that night, and I was really starting to miss him. Although, if anyone asked I’d never admit to that.

I’m not ready to be in a relationship with him, not yet at least. I feel guilty, because I know my emotions and actions towards him change quicker than all four seasons, but he needs to get my total trust first. Which would allow me to neglect all my insecurities and concerns about our relationship. Where our relationship stands now, I feel almost completely secure. Almost.

I hear the familiar sound of my text tone and glance to my side where my phone rests.

“Vodka?”- Harry

What does he mean, vodka? Do I like vodka, do I have vodka, what was he asking?

There’s a loud bang at the door and I quickly run over to it. I open the door and immediately find Harry’s shinning eyes and a giddy smile on his face. He motions to the bottle of vodka in his hands and his smile grows even wider.

“Before we get hammered drunk, I think you might wanna put some clothes on,” he says cheekily. I freeze, realizing I’m in nothing but a sports bra and shorts. Who the hell answers the door like that?!

I try to play it off cool, “maybe I don’t want to.”

“I’m not complaining,” He smiles cheekily at me before pushing past me to step into the apartment. I roll my eyes at him, playfully punching his arm as he brushes past me.

“Do you want glasses or are we just gonna share out of the bottle?” I inquire.

“It’s not like we haven’t shared saliva before,” Harry shrugs making my cheeks burn scarlett.

I am instantly reminded of my lack of clothing and I hastily turn away attempting to compose myself, “Let me grab a shirt,” I mutter.

“Here, have mine.” Harry replies. He pulls his shirt off and walks over to me confidently. He pulls the sleeves through my arms and up over my head. It rests at my waist and I can tell Harry’s enjoying himself. I admire all his tattoos that he so proudly wears. “I like your tattoos.”

He takes a swig of vodka and passes it to me. I drown a long sip, savouring the feeling of the scorching liquid burning a path down my throat.

“Hey, I like yours too, especially the heart. We have matching tattoos, why don’t you get ones that people can actually see? Isn’t that the whole point of them?” He asks. I did notice that we shared that certain tattoo, but now I couldn’t look at my heart on the left side of my body without looking at him. I had thought of plenty of things that I could get tattooed on myself. They weren’t a huge deal to me, like sure I thought they should mean something, but I could never find anything that really represented me. I thought words could be sentimental, but I thought they were also tacky.

I shrug at his questions, “How did you find out about mine anyways?” I ask curiously.

“I noticed when we were playing football… Your tank top was rather loose and I just happened to see some ink. I’m more observant than you think.”

“Or you’re just a creep?”  I offer cocking a brow at him, he smirks while flipping me off causing me to laugh.

“Why don’t you get more?”

I understand that he’s not going to drop this topic until I tell him more. “I don’t know. Just haven’t gotten around to it.”

“I’m thinking of getting another tattoo. You should come with me and we can get you another.”