The Counselor (h.s. au)

III

"Lets get started then, shall we?" I ignored his comment, giving him a soft smile.

"Wait," he stopped me.

"Hmm?" I questioned, looking up from my clipboard to meet his curious green eyes.

"Would you like something to drink?" He asked, and I smiled.

"Sure, that'd be great." I looked back up at him and he smirked, gallivanting off into the kitchen. Strange man.

"So how old are you Lennon?" He questioned, handing me a glass of water.

"I just turned 18 in March. You?" I looked up at him through my lashes as I took a small gulp of water to calm my nerves.

"27."

I nodded, still sipping my water, and he sat down next to me, placing his glass down on the table.

"What's your full name?" He asked, and I placed my water down, turning to face him.

"Lennon Ashley Primm." I finished, and he smiled, his eyes sparking with mischief.

"Mine is Harold Edward Styles." He beamed, and I nodded.

"Okay.." I trailed off, grasping my clipboard so we could start again.

"So, back to your anger. When did you first-"

"You're from America," He interrupted, and I frowned.

"Yes..?"

"What's it like there?" he asked and I put my pen down.

"Loud, obnoxious, different." I summed up. "Look we really should be-"

He stopped me once more.

"I want to take a break from the anger stuff. Don't you want to get to know me? After all you're going to be coming over almost every day." He began, and I noticed the proximity between us has slightly lessened. Just barely.

"I could get in serious trouble if im off topic. I'm getting paid for helping you, not being your friend." I spoke, lifting an eyebrow.

"Who am I to tell?" He smirked, and I rolled my eyes.

"Fine. Five minutes. We have a break for five minutes only, then we have to get back to work. Okay?" I made sure he was clear on my intentions, and he nodded his head quickly.

"So, let me ask you this," I began. "why do your friends think you have anger issues?"

He frowned. "Nice try, you're still trying to get answers from me. Let's not talk about anything anger-related!" He smiled, and I chuckled, playfully rolling my eyes.
For someone with anger issues he was a somewhat calm and stable guy for the most part.

He better hurry, he only has four minutes.

He shifted slightly, scooting towards me and I looked down at my skirt, noticing it had risen upwards. He reached out, wrapping his fingers around the hem and tugging it down, making sure nothing was exposed. I looked back up at him, only seriousness plastered on his features, his bright eyes and dark hair contrasted deeply, only adding to his good looks.

I cleared my throat, pushing my stray hairs behind my ear.

"Thank you." I spoke quietly, and he left his hand on my leg to linger, the pads of his fingers felt as if they were burning holes in the fabric of my clothes and scorching my flesh.

"Yeah." He replied. He looked up into my eyes, his breathing slowed and almost inaudible, and my heart rapid and throbbing, Id be surprised if he couldn't hear it. I knew he wanted this. He wanted me to think of him in a euphoric way. I had to hand one thing to him though, he was doing a damn good job trying. He invaded my every sense. His smell, an intoxicating bouquet of teakwood and whiskey, mint laced in his warm breaths. If looks could kill, every woman in this entire city would go into cardiac arrest, and I'm sure the men gave him dirty stares, but they only wished to be as attractive as him. His touch sent goosebumps trailing up my arms, my thighs becoming drenched in heat. The sound of his voice was like red wine pouring into a golden goblet, so smooth and silky, but tangy and wet. It was so raspy, just the sound of him speaking only one small word had me shivering from head to toe.