Tara's POV:
Holy Macaroni... He is unbelivable. Simply a disgrace to all that is a form of decency. He knows, he bloody well knows that I have a thing for suits... and the lack of them now that I come to think about it. Yet here I am in a damn Vogue shoot. Unbe-bloody-lievable.
"'Just for morals support' he says, 'it won't take long!' he says. I hate him. Damn Styles." I mutter ungracefully under my breath, openly cursing the man who has now reduced me to seriously considering nicking a pair of pants to change into or stuffing the ones I'm wearing with tissue from the bathroom - if you know what I mean...
Don't get me wrong. It's not like I'm watching only Harry out there posing 'for me'. There are the rest of the boys there too. And don't get me wrong, Niall looks darn cute in a suit, and Zayn is simply so good at that bad boy look when he isn't hanging around in bright red jumpers. However, Harry's Style (excuse the pun) is on another level.
Hastily I wipe my mouth, just to ensure that there's no drool falling off my chin.
I watch as Harry turns and sends a sly wink in my direction and I inwardly curse my petty school girl who begins to come out into the open as a disgusting tomato hue stains my cheeks. "Stupid Styles." I mutter childishly again before turning on my heels in desperate need of a water fountain. Storming out of the fairly glamorous studio I enter a dingy corridor. The kind that you find in horror films where that pretty girl dies. You know. The weirdly stupid one who you know should have never gone down it in the first place yet despite your loud and annoying protests at the T.V, they still think that the wisest and most heroic thing to do would be to brave the corridor. Alone. Like, seriously. These kids have no sense of self-preservation! Besides the point... however you must understand that show biz clearly isn't all that they make it out to be!
"Excuse me!" I call, pounding on the door labelled 'Staf oom'. It's like these studios didn't make billions a year praying of the poor not so innocent souls of the hormonal female teenagers of today's society.
"Tar baby? You do know that this corridor is no longer used..."
"Bloody hell! Is there no escaping you?" I turn only to be graced with the scoundrels smirk. He's in the process of undressing, the buttons on his shirt slowly popping. My stomach starts to churn and I grip onto my sides, uncomfortable with the change in the direction of my feelings. Best Friends my arse.
"I was thinking of taking a stroll to the park?" he asks, completely ignoring my previous statement.
"Why on earth would I want to go anywhere with you?"
"We're leaving in five." He smiles and strolls away.
"Unbe-bloody-lievable."
*****
"I thought you said we were going to 'stroll'!"
"To the car..."
"And you said a park! I thought you meant a park when you said a park!"
"Well it's an amusement park... that counts right?"
I gaze around in wonder, ignoring the strange looks from the couple to the side of us. The amusement park is lit up in a multitude of colours. Strong primary colours appearing everywhere, and familiar baby hues littered inbetween them. Fairy lights over head decorate the walk way and tingles shoot up my arm as the not-so-innocent Mr.Styles plays with my finger tips.
"wher-where first?" I attempt to speak strongly, attempting to subtly jerk my hands from him.
"Tar baby, I know you well enough by now that I know when you're running. And this is not the moment. Please. How can you be uncomfortable holding hands yet you yourself has experienced a threesome?" He asks in outrage.
Without permission I feel a red hue tinge my cheeks. "It was a one time thing..."
"And the lesbians?"
"I was merely interested!" I suddenly gasp as Harry's arm manages to wind its way around my waist, pulling me firmly infront of him. Chest to chest. Or rather, my chest to his stomach. He's bloody tall.
"As am I. So what's stopping me from experimenting, huh?"
"A willing third party!" I exclaim outraged.
"Overrated." He chuckles, languidly allowing his large hands to wander down my small frame, down as far as-
"Harry! Get your hands off my arse right this second!"
"Yes ma'am." He groans huskily, nuzzling my nose before slowly retreating, no hesitation in drifting his hands over every available body part on his way off me.
"Feed me." I demand.
"Oh baby, I knew you'd ask sooner or later."
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I am so so sorry that I took so long, and that this is so short. But life's been hectic! Count this as a taster. I'll do part 2 soonish. I'm hoping to post it within the next two weeks.
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My Bestfriend, Harry Styles
Fanfiction"I've been making a list of the things they don't teach you at school. They don't teach you how to love somebody. They don't teach you how to be famous. They don't teach you how to be rich or how to be poor. They don't teach you how to walk away fro...
