When We Collide (Harry Styles)

Chapter 9

Being happy proved to be a lot harder than I expected it to be. I had no reason to be truly happy. i wasn't happy for myself, but for them. My Mother and Harry were the only reason I tried to be happy right now. I wasn't at the point in my life where I was happy for myself, it was for them. It's always been for someone else, never for myself and although it wasn't how I planed to live for the rest of my life, for right now, it was okay and okay was all I need to carry on.

It's been a month since Harry and I first kissed and things were going great. Harry still hadn't asked me out, but I knew it was coming. We'd kissed a lot since our first kiss and in many different places: The conch, against the bench, against a wall and on my bed. Things were perfect but I was at the stage where I wanted more. Right now I was in Maths with Harry and while the teacher explained quadratic equations to everyone, I could not be more uninterested. Harry however found it the most fascinating thing to him and I was starting to think he was an alien. Hot, funny, caring and smart? I've hit the jackpot.

"How are you even doing that?" I whispered as I looked at the foreign letters, numbers and graphs on the page in front of me.

"It's easy," the triumphant tone in his voice was something I envied. If this were 'easy' I would be done by now.

"No it's not. I don't understand anything," I tried to avoid his glances at me as I kept my head down and studied the clean, untouched page.

"Do you want me to help you? I'm nearly done." I looked over at his page and frowned. It was covered in his perfect script, every white gap was covered in the blue ink with numbers and lettered and his graphs were lined perfectly.

I nodded at his offer, graciously accepting it. I was hopeless.

As he explained it to me I understood slightly, but my concentration was distracted by his perfect mouth and hands. His hands would tap the pencil against his lips, firmly grasping it and controlling it's every move. His lips slowly with every word he spoke. He wrote something down but inched closer to me as he did. Our arms were touching, my knee moved away from the wall beside me and closer to his left knee. I lightly tapped it to get his attention. He looked at me quizzically, "Are you even listening to me, Jasmine?" I wanted to lie to him, tell him I was so he'd carry on, but my selfishness wanted all his attention on me, "I was, but I just don't get it." It wasn't all a lie, I mean I was listening before and well I didn't get it. He sighed, slightly defeated as he put down the pencil.

"How about I come over after school some days and tutor you?"

My mind was screaming: YES, YES, YES PLEASE GOD YES.

But my mouth controlled the situation at hand, "That'd be great, thank you."

I didn't understand why I was all of a sudden so sexually interested in Harry, but whenever I thought about him or was with him, I couldn't help but get turned on. The way i'd think about him would make me clamp my legs together to relieve the friction I had created. Just thinking about his hands, how big they were and thinking about how they'd be between my legs, if they'd lightly caress my skin, or only skim over the places I need him most. Would he start with one finger or two? Fast or slow?

Or his lips, the way they felt against my lips had my mind racing with thoughts. Would my neck be his first attack or would it be soft and gentle? Would he rip my panties down by his teeth or would his fingers softly pull them down to either pool around my ankles or drop to a heap on the floor?How his lips and tongue would feel against me. Would he flick, suck or both? How long would it take for him to have my shaking and whimpering beneath him?

Almost subconsciously my legs clamped together and a sigh fell from my lips at the sudden relief. A throat cleared from beside me and it took me a moment to realize I was staring at him that whole time.