Scrabble | Harry Styles

5

My mum always said that you could tell a lot about a person from the way they walked. She always said that observing the way somebody presented themselves in a simple daily action such as walking was crucial in identifying the type of person they were. I didn't buy it - and I was pretty sure she was just using that as an excuse to make me fix my posture, but somehow that didn't stop me from testing her theory as I walked beside Harry.

Harry walked like he didn't have a care in the world. If I could have summed it up, it would have been like those slow-motion scenes you see in movies - the one where the obliviously hot male protagonist struts down the hallway, nonchalantly raking his fingers through his unkempt hair while everyone else separates to form a path and stare in pure and utter awe, fanning themselves with their hands, unable to tear their eyes away as their cheeks turn bright red.

Liz's arm was linked with Liam's, the two walking incredibly close together, while Harry and I had around a metre between us. "So, Harry, where are you visiting from?"

"Cheshire," he replied, pushing his sunglasses further up the bridge of his nose before his hands dropped back to his sides, "That's where my mum and step-dad live, but my uncle lives up here. He needed some work done in the house and didn't feel like paying much, so I offered to do it for him."

"Liam, that's the coat I was telling you about!" Liz tightened her grip on his arm suddenly, and I turned my head to see her tugging him towards the window of the shop we were passing, clearly satisfied with Harry's response and not interested with knowing any more. Liam reluctantly allowed her to ramble about the coat, nodding his head as she admired it through the glass. I stopped in my tracks, waiting for them so that we could continue to breakfast.

I couldn't tell whether Harry hadn't noticed my eyes continuously drifting to him beside me, or if he just didn't care. I figured it was the latter, as he didn't strike me as somebody who wasn't very observant. He seemed clever, simply judging by the way he talked - but again, it was simply an observation. I wondered he would be the type to reveal a lot about himself - he seemed confident enough to do so - but he could easily have been the opposite. Perhaps in our short-lived knowing of one another, I'd have to base my perception of Harry Styles off observations.

"You like to stare, don't you?" I felt the heat of breath on skin beneath my ear, and a shiver travelled along the length of my spine. I could feel my eyes flutter and I willed them to stay open, grounding my feet as I felt his chest press to the back of my shoulder. For a moment I wondered if Liz and Liam could hear him, being only around ten feet away from them - but then I noticed how quiet his voice was, low enough only for me to hear in our proximity - that very proximity reiterated as his breath fanned over my skin.

"What makes you say that?" I responded equally as quiet, desperate to keep my tone even. I didn't dare to turn my head to look at him, and it was as if he knew that if I did look at him then I'd be entirely screwed. We were so close that each time I inhaled, I could smell his cologne - it was rich; almost spicy with a note of something like vanilla, and I was positive that if I only smelled that for the rest of my life, I'd be entirely satisfied.

"I have eyes, darling," his murmur came in a slow response, and I bit my lip as I felt my breath hitch in my throat. I was certain he was beginning to perceive me as some sort of creep.

"Don't flatter yourself," I returned now, prepared to turn and face him and break the metaphorical hold he was clasping me in, but second-guessing it, wondering if seeing his face would make it harder to maintain my composure.

"Mm?" he hummed against the shell of my ear, clearly enjoying the power he had over me in that moment, "no need to be defensive. It's okay to stare," he paused, and I thought he was going to back away, until I felt his breath on my neck again, "I was doing the same."