Hot (Harry Styles Fanfiction)

17

How to make a girl feel a bit like a whore. Or a flimsy, cheap skank.

            I am positive Harry Styles wrote that book because it was certainly how I felt as three embarrassing words left his mouth.

            “You should go.”

            It was blunt and shameful.

            And I wanted to shoot him where it would really hurt.

            I was frozen in my spot and Harry refused to meet my eyes, constantly fidgeting and looking behind him at the stairs. His hands hovered over my elbows before he finally decided to grab an arm and pull me down the stairs to the front door.

            “You really need to leave, Aria,” he urged, starting to open the door.

            “You can’t just kick me out! What’s going on?” I said, gathering my bearings and resisting against his insistency to get me out the door.

            “Aria, please ju-“

            “Harry?”

            A low voice called Harry from behind us in the dark of the hallway. Harry stiffened; he closed his eyes and sucked in a breath.

            “What?” he responded monotonously. I was not expecting that and I froze. My questions on who made Harry respond coldly were starting to be answered as a hand grasped Harry’s shoulder and pulled him away.

            A tall pale man, with an uneven scruff of a beard just starting to grow on his face, stared me down through brown eyes.

            “Who are you?” he asked. The simple question was filled with an authority that made even Harry cast his eyes down.

            “I-I’m Aria,” I said, stuttering at first before standing tall.

            “Why are you here?” he demanded.

            “Why are you back so early?” Harry interrupted. He suddenly seemed to gain confidence as he angled himself so I was nearly blocked by his tall frame.

            “Tsk,” the man started, “that’s no way to welcome your dear uncle back home from a long hard day at work now is it?”

            Of course this was Harry’s uncle. I should have remembered from the party when I first saw Harry. He was standing by his uncle and he told me that he lived with him. I was slow in putting those two events together, but I was quick enough to realize that Harry’s relationship with his uncle was a bit damaged.

            “You’re never back this early,” Harry responded. Harry’s uncle made a tisking noise with his mouth again before turning his attention to me, ignoring Harry altogether.

            “You’re here for dinner I assume? A bit odd that you two would be eating so early though isn’t it?” Harry’s uncle’s accent was nearly replaced with an American one and I wondered how long he must have been here for that to happen.  

            I did think it was strange that Harry asked for us to have dinner so early, but I shrugged it off, thinking that it was just a habit. Now it did not seem to be the case; I wondered if he was ashamed of his uncle and their strained relationship.

            “No matter. Oh, where are my manners? I’m Harry’s uncle of course, Jonathan. You can call me Jon of course. Though I highly doubt you’ll be around long enough to need to bother with remembering,” he sniped rudely with his last sentence. My mouth opened in shock and I did not know how to respond. Did his uncle know about Lisa?