Rain | Harry Styles

1.0

'meet in the middle, there's always room for common ground.'

( you & i - one direction )

-

I could tell he was nervous when he'd look at me at points he thought I wouldn't notice, and the way his smirk, through still making an appearance, didn't hold the same arrogance it often did. His fingertips never remained still as they brushed over my hip, constantly drumming a slow beat up and down - every so often he'd blow a breath between his chapped lips - he was terrified, I knew he was. And he was trying, I knew that, too.

Harry pulled his arm from my waist and reached into the pocket of his jeans, turning to face me, "I got you something," a hopeful smile spread on his lips as he looked at me. He held what looked to be the remains of a rose, crumpled, its petals barely intact. His face fell, realizing the sight in his large palm, "Oh, fuck me," he mumbled, frustratedly tossing it aside into the road.

I pouted, shaking my head, "Hey! I wanted that!"

"I couldn't even get you a proper fucking rose, Ana," he groaned, and I laughed lightly.

"I loved it, Harry, thank you," I couldn't help but grin as I leant upwards to kiss him on the cheek, a look of annoyance taking over his face, only momentarily softened by my touch. He reached into his other pocket to pull out a cigarette, lighting it without hesitation and taking a drag, sighing in relief afterwards.

"So where are we going?" I asked, dragging my feet on the floor, momentarily forgetting how much he despised it when I did so. 

He tapped the back of my thigh with his fingertips as so to tell me to stop doing it, before speaking, "It's a surprise."

"I don't like surprises."

"You'll like this one."

"A good one, I hope?"

"I hope so, too. If you hate it, we'll leave," he murmured beside me, flicking his cigarette from his fingers and stamping on it.

"I won't hate it," I reassured him, him only nodding in response as he grabbed my wrist, taking a side road. As we walked on, we moved further from any place I knew, my reliance on Harry to guide the way becoming far heavier.

"Harry Styles, where the hell are you taking me?" I pestered, his gaze not meeting mine for a moment as he tugged me into what looked like the woods; one I didn't know this town was even in possession of.

"Stop that shit for a minute, Ana," he retorted, shaking his head, "you don't always have to be in control, y'know."

"I know I don't have to be in control," I argued.

"Oh yeah?" his eyes searched mine, the darkness of the time of night making it difficult to meet his gaze, "then what made you such a control-freak?"

"I'm not a control freak," I huffed, but I knew he was right.

"It's not a bad thing, Ana Grace," he laughed at me now, tugging me closer to him, "you just have to learn to let go a bit."

I didn't argue, only shook my head as I walked beside him - I could now smell the scent of him, the smell of smoke immediately overtaking my senses, one I'd come to like so very much.

"Here," he mumbled, his concentration flickering from me to the mass of trees surrounding us, "gonna need you to jump here, Ana." 

I frowned, shooting him a puzzled look before it set in that we were in front of a ditch of some kind, and he was wanting me to jump straight over it.