Forbidden- A Harry Styles Story

Love to Hate You-39

-Song of the chapter is 'Into You' by Ariana Grande

-Erin-

I knocked gently on the door before I shoved my hands deep into my pockets, nervous.  Rocking back and forth on my feet, I heard stumbling behind the door.

      Jack opened the door quickly, startling me. His hair was messed up, his body clothed only in a pair of shorts. I took in his appearance and confirmed my suspicions when I looked over his shoulder to see a line of coke on the counter.  His gaze followed mine and he swayed slightly, smiling at me.

      "Come for your fix?" He slurred, letting out a deep laugh. I winced at his behavior and put my hand on his chest gently, pushing him away from me when he tried to come closer. His lips were dangerously close and smelled of liquor. Gross.

      "Definitely not of you. I came for a distraction," I stated. He licked his lips, smiling a tired smile as he motioned his hand in a gesture that told me to come in. I kicked some beer bottles out of my way as I followed him over to the counter. It was dark and musty in his apartment, shit littering the floor.

      "You sure do take good care of this place. Did you have a party after I left? This place is trashed," I commented, but he only shook his head.

     "Let's just say I was trying to forget," he whispered before bursting into a fit of giggles.

     He definitely needs to lay off the liquor. You know when the men start to giggle that they're absolutely off their face.

      "Forget what?" I questioned as I set my bag down on the stool that sat at the counter. He rolled his eyes and picked up my bag, rifling through it, his dirty hands touching all of my stuff.

      Excuse me, peasant. You can't touch my junk, unless you've got a trunk.

       I need some serious therapy.

      "What've you got in here? An unlimited supply of condoms?" He joked, but...I so wasn't in the mood for his stupid jokes and drunken self.

      "Fuck off. Stop touching everything. When was the last time you washed your hands? I don't know where they've been," I rolled my eyes, sarcasm dripping from my voice. His presence was boring me and I was tired of his mood swings. I was only here to forget about Zayn and Harry. So far, it hasn't been doing any good.

      "Oh, you know where they've been!" He exclaimed, bursting into loud laughs. If he were a giant, his laugh would be heard all the way in New York.

"I'd rather not discuss that," I quipped, ripping my bag from his hands, but it was already too late. His eyebrows rose at what he saw in his hands. His fingers ran over the picture slowly before he looked up at me, his eyes hard.

"Why...why do you have a picture of him in your bag?" He growled, holding up the picture of Harry tightly in his fist. I sighed, reaching out to grab the crumpled picture from him and shoving it safely back into my bag.

If Jack reacted to Harry's picture like that...imagine what he would do if he saw Harry in real life. He'd go bananas.

This shit is bananas, B a n a n a s.

Thank you, Gwen Stefani, for literally describing my life.

"Relax, Kai just sent me to fuck him up. He wants revenge for God knows what-" I started, but Jack had already come so close to me that my breath had fallen from my lips like a long lost memory. He smelled like alcohol and cheap cologne.