Sonata (Harry Styles FanFiction)

51. What Are You Up To?

"You were truly a deprived child," he chuckled, dropping his head back against the pillows on my bed.

You have no idea.

My smile was tight and it in no way reached my eyes, but he didn't see. He'd dropped his head back down against his pillow, his eyes closed, a smooth expression sculpting his face as I ran my fingers along the dark ink. There were more images decorating his chest and his other arm, some more intricate than others and he was patient with me as I asked about each one, satisfying my curiosity while the night grew later and later. Eventually he drifted to sleep, leaving me alone with thoughts that I rarely entertained. It was another hour or so before the world fell away, taking me with it to a reality I would never actually experience. I dreamed of a brown haired little girl with clear blue eyes and a family that loved and supported her through the entirety of her life.

Darien Grace

The entirety of Friday was spent either in bed or around the house in as little clothing as possible. Jas, Caleb, and John all insisted upon going Black Friday shopping every year while I was resolutely against the entire concept. People were absolutely psychotic. I still couldn't understand why one little sale was the reason for stampedes across the country. People died during that s.hit. I understood that going could save you money at the time, but you were going to spend it going through therapy to cope with the trauma of the entire f.ucking ordeal later anyway. I'd rather go out later in the week when everything had calmed the f.uck down and everything hadn't been picked over. I wasn't complaining, though. Harry and I had the house to ourselves, a fully stocked fridge and wine cooler, On Demand, and a chest full of toys back in my room. We were far from bored.

After I'd had my coffee and Harry had practically shoved a spinach and egg white omelette down my throat, he'd disappeared while I was doing the dishes. I'd found him in my room riffling through my chest, picking up boxes and reading the labels or instruction manuals. I'd stood in the doorway and watched him for nearly five minutes as his face screwed up in what was either shocked interest or abhorrence. I was banking on the former. There was no doubt though when he picked up one of the smaller black boxes: I knew exactly what he was holding.

The second he lifted the lid, confusion kicked in. He brought the box closer to his face, his brow furrowing as he struggled to understand exactly what was inside. I had to physically restrain myself from laughing when he lifted the beads and their remote out of the box, holding them away from his face in complete confusion. He twirled the pair by the string, skeptically eying the remote in his hand. Hie eyes grew suddenly wider when he pressed one of the buttons—they began to vibrate in his hand, twisting and gyrating.

"What the f.uck?" His nose scrunched up as he dug around in the small box for the manual I knew to be below the tab on the right.

I had to beat him to it though, his face would be priceless, "They're called Hula Beads," I was still leaning against the door frame. His head shot up immediately, his face beat red— a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar... my cookie jar.

"Please don't tell me you put these in your ass?" I quirked an eyebrow up at his obvious disdain. I mean sure, anal play wasn't for everybody, but h.ell, I knew a f.uckton of men and women who loved it. I decided not to tell him about the set of Anal beads that were tucked away at the bottom of the chest. They weren't my favorite, but they were interesting every once in a while.

"No, darling, those are v.aginal beads. Anal beads are completely different." I smirked at him as they immediately dropped out of his hand and back into their box.

"You're joking right?"

"Not at all."

"So you actually put those things inside of you?" His jaw may as well have been on the other side of the planet.