Kiwi | Harry Styles

Fifty-Five

A/N: Double update! Don't forget to read Fifty-Six too! xx

Jessi

"Jess?" I recognised Harry's whisper. "What, Harry?" I snapped at him.

"Shh... quiet. Can I come inside?" 

"No!" I sighed, suddenly feeling very aware that I was naked under the sheets. "Wait there." I groaned as I swivelled my body and my feet landed in the soft carpet of Niall and Lori's guest bedroom. I huffed as I pulled on my pants and shirt. What the hell did he want? Why was he still here? The carpet muffled my feet as I stomped across the room and yanked open the door, just a crack. 

"What?" I snarled through the gap in the door, my frustration at being interrupted flooding my voice.

"Uhm. Want to cuddle?" His fingers pinched at his bottom lip. No, Harry I want you to fuck me so hard the neighbours can hear but of course I couldn't say that. My mind drifted to thoughts on whether it would hurt more if he said yes or no? 

"Cuddle?" I repeated back to him, trying to force my mind away from thoughts of having sex with him.

"I swear I just want something - I want to hold you." He raised his hands above his head as a sign of surrender. My eyes trailed over his exposed torso, the damp patch in my pants becoming more pronounced. 

"No, you can't." I shook my head. Letting him in would be a bad idea, even if by some crazy miracle I could control the raging hormone monster inside me, cuddling with him would hurt just as much. Sleeping with Harry's arms wrapped around me was one of my most favourite things, it made me feel special. Treasured. Loved. 

"What do you mean, no?" His eyebrows furrowed as his arms fell to his side.

"I mean, no." I sighed.

"No!" He pushed his hand through the crack in the door and pressed it to my cheek. "Please?" He whispered. His fingers felt soft, I could tell he hadn't been playing his guitar recently and more than anything I wanted to ask why. I wanted to hear all about what he'd been doing in France. I wanted to listen to his deep voice tell me all about the town of Dunkirk, what the architecture was like? What the people were like? Did he enjoy it there? Did he visit anywhere else? But curling up in his arms and listening to him talk about his adventures wasn't my privilege anymore. He shared all that with somebody else. I coughed to hold back my tears.

"Go home, Harry." I pleaded.

"And where exactly is that, Jess?" His green eyes stared at mine. "Our apartment hasn't felt like home since you left."

"Well then, go to your girlfriend." I sighed rather than admit that my apartment felt exactly the same. It was part of the reason I was staying here tonight.

"Dallas?" He scoffed. "She's not home, and she's not my girlfriend - I - we - I don't know..."

"Are you sleeping with her?" The question left my mouth before I'd had time to process whether I wanted to know the answer.

Harry's eyes almost popped out his head while his mouth opened and closed like a fish and then the expression which flickered over his face told me my answer before he even uttered the words, "Yeah, I mean - yeah sometimes." My hand fell from the door and it swung open, Harry stepping into the doorway so I couldn't close it again.

"And you guys go out on dates, I've seen those." I continued talking so I wouldn't have to think. "And she's met Gemma. You guys are dating, Harry. She's your girlfriend." 

"No. I belong here. With you." 

"Harry, stop! You can't keep doing this. Just when I think I'm doing okay in you swan turning everything upside down again. You've moved on. You have a girlfriend and I don't know a thing about her but I know she doesn't deserve this. Go home to Dallas, Harry." I grabbed the door and tried to close it.