Smoke. //Harry Styles//

Dance.

"Fuck," I gasped, being pressed into the wall of my hallway. My lip quivered slightly in confusion, a strange habit of mine. Harry looked somewhat exauhsted as he pinned me against it. I was ready now, my thin body dressed into the only tight dress I had, and my hair in light waves. I was walking down the steps when Harry stunned me, and I sat in his embrace.

"What the hell?" I laughed, letting my head fall back to the wall after a moment, shock escaping my tense body. He just let his breath escpape and fan across my face. Suspense and suspicion swarmed my body. What was he up to? 

"Bit short, don't you think?" He murmurs against me, and he smells of strange smoke and sweet candy. His fingers danced up my thigh before landing safely on the hem of my dress. I give him the widest smile I can muster, my arms around his neck. Loose curls tickle my fingers as I continue to stare at him, shrugging.

"Bit bipolar, don't you think?" I breathe out against him this time, thanking the almighty Christ that I've literally just washed and brushed my mouth. He gives me a musky smirk, shrugging his broad shoulders. He let's me go, much to my dismay, and continues to let his eyes admire.

"Just a bit." He surrenders, although his tone has a dangerous undertone I decide to not acknowledge. I race him down my steps, eager to escape the confines of my apartment. I slip on sparkly flats, far too cautious to even think of wearing heels. Harry's finished faster then me, looking dashing as he holds the door open for me. 

"Thank you," I grin, stepping out into the hallway. I'm not surprised by the lingering smell of weed and other drugs I've most likely ever heard of, but continue to walk to the elevator. I'd been blessed to get the floor with tons of druggies, given as they hardly ever miind sharing their 'sugar'.

I guide Harry down, given I've began to memorize this place like the back of my hand, and I'm baffled by the amount of questions he has...about safety...for me. He's given me so many mixed signals, just today. Snuggling, pinning, flirting, and now he's even cautious for my safety. What kind of game is he playing at? More importantly, what am I?

Harry practically drags me to his car, insisting his BMW is much more cozy then my old beaten up car. To which I just got last week. To which is an embarrassment to drive around in. But, I must admit, it beats walking.

"We should go to Funky Buddah," I suggest, my legs criss-crossed as I sit in the cozy confines of his seat. He shakes his head, a mischevious smirk resting against his lips.

"Funky Buddah has nothing on Bubbly." He argues, peeking over at me. I've heard of the club, but wince as I realize it's almost a full hour away. Why would he want to go so far out of reach?

"Funky Buddah is close though. I don't want to be in the car for that long." I pout, but also at the fact that being in a car with Harry for that long is intimidating.

"Don't worry, Chandler, it won't be long."

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ok, okay. i know i've been gone for mOOOOnths, but guess who's back! i know that this is one page, and you probably hate me, but shit is about to get gOOOOOODDD. i love and miss you guys ssososososo much. and i'm bACK. LONGER UPDATE NEXT CHAPTER PROMISE. also, i've got another fanfiction for harry up. it's totally different from this. check it out! MWAAH.