Knock....knock.. The sound startles me from my sleep. I turn blearily towards the clock and blink until the numbers come into focus. It's 2.06am. I silently curse whatever is making that noise, and try, in vain, to return to my dream. The knocks continue incessantly then cease suddenly. I hear a deep voice curse, so faint I might've imagined it. Curiosity takes the better of me, and I wrap myself in a Hello Kitty blanket and tiptoe towards the window. I squint as my eyes adjust to the darkness, and see a figure perched in the oak tree, their face hidden in the moonless night.
With shaking hands, I grab a conveniently-placed flashlight off my bedside table, as well as a hairbrush for protection, and aim both towards the stranger. The person startles at the sudden beam of light and almost falls, aims flailing, out of the tree, but catches himself just in time.
"Jesus Christ, you scared me!" a familiar, deliciously-accented voice exclaims in surprise. My brow furrows in confusion as I realise who it is. What the hell is Harry Styles doing in my tree?
"I scared you?" I retort. "You're the stalker sitting in my tree at 2am! What are you doing?"
"Well, I was throwing rocks at your window, but then I ran out...." he trails off.
"Not that," I say, although it did explain the knocks I'd heard. "What are you doing here at all?"
"I wanted to see you. Isn't it obvious?" he smiles flirtatiously, back in full-charm mode.
I raise an eyebrow. "And you couldn't wait 'til morning?"
Harry chuckles, his eyes roaming over me. "I'm glad I didn't. I wouldn't have discovered your impeccable taste in blankets otherwise." I laugh in spite of myself and he joins in.
"What's with the hairbrush? Are you going to fight me with it?" he teases. Ignoring his comment, I conjure up my best attempt of a coquettish smile, and say, "Do you always go to such extreme lengths to get into a girl's pants?"
"You mean, show up to their house in the middle of the night and scare the shit out of them?" he grinned. "Occasionally,"
I laugh again and roll my eyes. "How do you even know where I live?"
"I have my sources," he replies casually.
"I don't know whether to feel creeped out or flattered," I muse, already knowing that my answer was the latter. He smirks and attempts to stand, which is no easy feat considering his position.
"So, are you going to invite me in or not?"
"Or not," I counter. He pouts his lush lips and I probably would've changed my mind based off of that look alone, if not for my sleeping friend meters away. Harry makes it to the windowsill unscathed and I flick off the torch, my heart racing as he leans towards me.
"Why not?" he murmurs softly, his face mere centimetres from my own.
"Why not what?" I wonder breathlessly, then catch myself. "Oh!" He chuckles quietly and I feel his warm breath dancing across my cheek. "Um, my friend's sleeping over. Sorry."
Looking into my eyes, as if for confirmation, he slowly lifts his hand and cups my face with his palm. My heart just about stops and an involuntary shiver runs down my back as his thumb gently caresses my cheek. I break eye contact and glance down at his lips, which turns out to be a big mistake, because now all I can think about is how they would feel on mine. I blush at the thought, and look back up, surprised to find his eyes still on my face, and not down my shirt, where Derek's usually would've wondered by now...Derek!
"I-I've got to go," I stutter, regretfully pulling my head from his touch. Harry drops his hand, and a look of disappointment passes his face, quickly replaced by a mask of playfulness. The corners of his mouth turn up. "Next time, then." He turns to leave, and I stare longingly at his retreating figure. "Next time?" I question aloud. Harry turns and gives me one last heart stopping smile, before sliding gracefully down the tree trunk and out of sight.
***
