Torn (harry styles)

31- Manbag

My palms develop a layer of moisture as I struggle to concentrate on the front of class.

"Skye." I imagine Harry saying my name, his voice low and seductive.

Wait, that was no imagination... He actually said it.

I turn round to face him, his eyes quizzically scan my face for some sort of reaction which I fail to give, my brain and mouth won't co-operate properly so I just sit there. Staring at him.

"Why did you leave early on Friday?" He asks, the rasp in his voice making me weaker.

A small smile turns up the corner of the left side of his lips.

"Because, I.. I just did." I look down, then back up at his confused face.

"Were you not having a good time?" He frowns.

How can he just act like we didn't have a huge argument? Well not huge but it was... Well it was. What even was it? A random outburst of emotion, angry emotion.

"Um.. At first, yeah." I admit, it was quite good fun, ignoring the fact he kissed Evie.

His smirk grows.

"So your saying you didn't enjoy our little kiss?" His eyes narrow but his smirk remains as cheeky as ever.

I choke on my breath, why is he saying all of this? It's just weird.

I can't help my cheeks heating, I take deep breathes in hope it will reduce the redness in my cheeks but I can still feel the heat brewing inside them.

"Err I dunno." Embarrassment flooding through me like a tsunami.

"Yes or no, do you like kissing me?" He asks me, I cannot believe this is actually happening. Is he real right now?

"It's a bit of an awkward question." I say, shuffling awkwardly in my seat as I recall the occasions we kissed.

"mmkay" he turns his attention back to the prof and I am left feeling confused, embarrassed and a little excited.

Class continues. An endless amount of historic crap is released from professor's tight, thin lips. It's taking up brain space that could be used for something useful...

"And that, kids, is why Henry the eighth beheaded Catherine Howard!" Prof explains.

"Yeah cause I fucking care and all." Harry sarcastically remarks into my ear. Sending a wave of shivers down my spine whilst making me giggle. I silently cuss myself for allowing myself to giggle with him, I shouldn't.

"I hate history." I sigh, without thinking.

Harry's face twists for a second, he looks... Hurt? Angry? Confused? I can't quite place the emotion temporarily plastered on his face. But it doesn't last long, his pinched expression soon turns into a stone cold stare.

"Same." He licks his lips, looking back to the front.

I reply that conversation in my head, did I say something wrong? I offended history, not him. Why was he so distant all of a sudden. He never fails to confuse me that boy.

Maybe it's cause I said I hated history as in the class. Maybe he thought I meant I didn't like sitting next to him... Do I like it? It gives me mixed emotions really. Minutes before I will be dreading it, asking myself why I am even attending the class when I have to sit next to the devils son... But another part of me craves it, craves him. I can't explain my need for him, I don't like him the way I love dexter. Dexter is my boyfriend... I shouldn't even be having second thoughts about Harry who I daily remind myself has hurt me a countless amount of times.. On purpose.