day the twenty-third
"Have you ever been in love?" Wren asked, looking up at the ceiling. Her mother was working late yet again and wouldn't be home for a while. Obviously, Wren seized the opportunity to invite Harry over.
And that's how she found herself laying side by side with Harry in her full-sized bed. Wren's heart pounded against her chest at his close proximity. His scent taunted her and she had to resist every urge to drape her arm around his chest.
Harry Styles was in her bed.
Okay, so maybe they were fully clothed and he had no interest in her whatsoever, but it was progress nonetheless.
"Well, that's certainly a question." Harry chuckled, looking over at her with sparkling green eyes. "Why do you ask?"
"I never have and I want to know what it feels like."
"Home." He answered simply.
"Home?" She mimicked, surprised at his answer.
"It may be corny, but it's always having somewhere to come back to. No matter where you are if that person is there, you're okay. It's safety, contentment, home." He finished.
"And you've found that?" She asked, voice full of wonder.
"Of course. Be a little sad if I was twenty-two without finding at least a sliver of it." Harry chuckled. "So don't worry, it'll happen when it happens Wrenifred. You're so young, no one falls in love at eighteen."
"Yes, they do."
"Do they now?"
"Of course. You can fall in love at any age, it's not like the emotion has an on switch that isn't triggered until you reach a certain point in your life."
"Ah, how wise." Harry laughed. "So tell me, what's the meaning of life?"
"The meaning of life?"
"If you're so smart, you must know it." He bit back a smile. "I mean, I do."
"You know the meaning of life?" Wren quirked an eyebrow, although, she wouldn't be surprised in the least if he did.
"Of course," he responded matter of factly.
And just like everything Harry said or did, Wren asked about it.
"Is that so? Then what is it?" Wren turned to face him, curiosity played itself across her facial features. Harry paused for a moment, shutting his eyes and humming softly.
His lips finally parted. "The meaning of life is to obviously find out the meaning of life."
"That makes no sense," she said quickly. Harry chuckled softly, tossing a pillow in the air and catching it.
"Does it not?" He was clearly amused, where she was slightly aggravated.
"Of course it doesn't you dipstick." Wren stood up flustered. She wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans, taking a deep breath.
Harry Styles was in her bed.
"So what if it doesn't make complete sense? That's how the world works, some things make sense and some things don't. Just because they don't make sense to the human brain doesn't mean their untrue." He explained it with a knowing tone, giving her a pointed look and a raised eyebrow.
She stood dumbly in the center of the room. Harry probably thought she was a complete idiot for being so close-minded.
Add to the fact she didn't know whether to join him back on her bed or to make a beeline for the door.
"Aw shucks and sucks, I offended you." The bed squeaked as Harry slid off. He approached Wren and hugged her from behind. She suddenly felt as if there was a lack of oxygen in the pink bedroom.
His scent of pine and fabric softener entered her nose, causing her knees to grow weak. Wren never wanted his arms to release from around her waist. However, the longer the hug lasted, the more she needed from him.
She needed to touch him, to taste him, to breathe him in. Her breath quickened as she pushed down the feelings, wanting to simply enjoy the fact Harry's arms were around her.
He let go much too soon, although, the amount of time Wren would have preferred was eternity.
"Don't be mad at me, Wrenifred." He said softly, his curls brushing her cheek. She was frozen, wondering if Harry noticed how red her face had gone and how fast her heart was pummeling against her chest.
"Why would I be mad?" Her throat squeezed as she choked out the words.
"Because I can be such a know it all at times." Harry stepped away from her, sitting on the edge of her bed. He may have walked away, but the smell of him lingered in the air around her.
"You're not a know it all Harry," She started slowly.
He cocked his head, eyebrows furrowing. "I'm not?"
"No." Wren joined him on the bed, somehow managing to look him in the eye. "You're indie."
A smile tugged on his lips, exposing two dimples. Harry giggled, wrapping his arms around her and brought her to his chest.
He pulled wren down to the bed with him, pillows fell on top of their bodies. Her hair was in messy tangles in front of her face, harry's curls still looked flawless as ever.
Harry Styles was in her bed, with her.
He leaned in close and she felt her heart seize. It was happening, Wren suddenly felt her mouth go dry. Was she ready for this? The answer was a quick yes, of course. She was ready for a kiss by Harry Styles.
She was ready for much more than a kiss by Harry Styles
Her eyes flicked open when his lips barely missed her mouth, instead brushing her ear. "My best friend is just so indie."
**
how would it feel to think your getting a kiss by harry styles in your bed,
and then get friend zoned.
i'd probably jump into a volcano of acid.
