Sonata (Harry Styles FanFiction)

28. Poppy and Petunia

"I'll be happy to add your name to the list but I am actually with another couple now. We will be finished in around fifteen minutes though if you would like to wait in the main lobby?"

"I think we'll just come back at another time, what do you think?" I gave Harry another 'get your shit together, Styles' look before smiling back at the woman.

"Uh, yeah, that's fine," he mumbled, still not quite sure of his role. Fucking amateur.

"Grab my coat, Babe?" It was more of an order than a question. I pecked him quickly on the lips before leaving him high and dry in the middle of the Lady Chapel, his dick straining against his pants.

Darien Grace

I heard him curse under his breath as he struggled to scoop up my jacket and hold it as subtly as possible in front of the bulge straining against his jeans. The second we were out of earshot, I whirled around on him, eyes blazing.

"I'm going to chop your fucking dick off!" I hissed, my body trembling from overwhelming sexual tension. I thought that it had been bad before, but this was so much worse. I could hardly breathe and Stella was literally aching with need. What was worse worse, I was now going commando in a fucking Catholic Cathedral. Like holy mother of fuck. Jesus may have been able to overlook a bit of premarital procreation, but having someone with about as much experience to befit the reputation a Playboy Bunny flaunting her sexual habits in His house.... I swore, I was about to get struck by lightning.

"How the hell was that my fault?" Great, now he was pissed. "You think I want to be stuck in a bloody church with more wood than a lumber yard?"

"If you hadn't been such a fucking caveman and felt the need to exert your masculinity, we wouldn't be in this situation! I told you to get it in! What part of that was hard to grasp?" I didn't even let him speak, "But no, you had to be creative. We're in a fucking church. If we want to get it on, it has to be quick; no drawing this shit out. God isn't exactly on the side of the sinner."

"So it's my fault that you can't keep your clothes on?"

"You're the one who was so eager to 'peel' me out of my dress!"

"Oh, my god! I don't know why I let you get to me! You're going to get me fired. Actually, I could get arrested."

"Don't be a drama queen. They're not going to arrest you. You aren't robbing any cradles. I'm old enough to make my own decisions."

"Clearly you're rubbish at it," He grumbled, turning away from me, his hands wound tightly into his hair. I knew when he pulled them out that more than a few strands would come away with them.

"What kind of morally devoid person tries to have sex in a church?" Now, he was just being rude, "Jesus Christ, you're going to ruin me."

"Don't even pretend like this is one sided. You need me just as much as I need you. You're just too damn stubborn to admit it." I stalked up to him, pulling him around to face me, fiery azure eyes searching his.

"What on God's green Earth makes you think that I need someone who probably has all of the diseases in the fucking book?" He fumed, the venom behind his words causing me to take a step back. Immediately his face slackened, as if the meaning of his words finally registered with his sex-addled mind.

"You know what? You're right. I'm so fucking over this. Take care of that," I motioned towards the still prominent bulge in his pants, "yourself." I snatched my coat out of his hands and pushed past him, tears burning in my eyes. I never fucking cried. This was bullshit. I was shit on by guys all the time; why should one ridiculous insult hurt me so damn much? It didn't make any sense.