Through The Dark || Harry Styles

16. HARRY

HARRY

"I just don't think we should be doing this. It's already late. Why don't we just crash here?"

Lucy's been calling out excuses and reasonings the past half hour, locking herself in the bedroom and insisting that if we are going out dancing she can't wear what she wore to work.

"No," I shout back every time and laugh at the little huffs that are getting louder.

We compromised at a thirty-minute time period, she looked fine the way she was but she refused to leave without at least having a shower first.

I lift my arm up and sniff, satisfied that I don't smell bad enough to have to go home and change. I don't really give a shit what I look like to other people and I've been with Lucy all night already anyway.

Lola has been fed and loving the belly rubs as I wait for Lucy to hurry the fuck up.

"We can watch a movie. Your choice," she yells.

"No."

"Why don't we do this tomorrow night instead?"

I don't respond, rolling my eyes at her dramatics.

"Harry?" she calls.

"No."

"I just think if something happens and Lola needs me or my mum calls again or Amy-"

I cut her off when I hear that name.

"Lucy, we are going. We will be together and we will deal with anything that comes up. It's one bloody night."

I'm concentrating on Lola when I hear the clicking of high heels make their way towards me. My mouth opens to say something smart-arse but my words don't make it out. I don't know what I was expecting to see when I looked up. But it wasn't this.

Somehow, my legs pull me to stand, my heart slamming into my chest so hard that I hold a hand over it, my lips separating to allow the heavy breath to expel from my lungs as my eyes shamelessly drag up the sight in front of me. From the tips of her toes, up bare legs, over red silk that skims every curve and settling on blue eyes.

"Oh god, I know I look stupid but this is the only thing I have. I don't go out much and I had this from-" Lucy starts to ramble.

"You look amazing." My body is still but my mind is racing.

Maybe this is a bad idea.

"Maybe this is a bad idea," she says for me and my head shakes furiously before I find my voice.

"We are going. Definitely. Look, Lola's already taken herself to bed. She'll be fine for a few hours without us. Without you." I correct myself quickly, swallowing hard and running a hand through my hair.

Why am I so thirsty all of a sudden?

"You sure you don't want to change? You can borrow something of Jake's," she says and my stomach clenches at the thought.

"I'm fine. Let's go, I need a drink. A lot of them."

--

"Luce, you need to relax," I half yell over the music into Lucy's ear as I pry her fingers from where they are clenched around a fist full of my shirt. "It's a nightclub, not a prison."

She tries not to smile, pursing her lips together to try and stifle it but I bend my knees and dip my head to get a better look. Finally, when her eyes meet mine, she allows it to spread and light up my darkness.

A man brushes past us and Lucy squirms at the touch as he slinks through. She takes a step closer to me to move out of his path as best she can, her head shifting from side to side to glance over her shoulder and make sure it doesn't happen again.

I rest my hand on the small of her back and pull her flush with my body, the need to protect her creeping up and the will to be closer even stronger.

The slinky fabric of her dress beneath my fingertips shifts easily against her skin and grit my teeth before leaning down to talk into her ear, the faint smell of gardenia from her perfume hitting my nose.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

"Let's have a drink, if you still hate it in half an hour we can leave, okay?"

She pulls back slightly in order to catch my eyes and nods, certainty on her face that she will most definitely be leaving in thirty minutes.

Pulling her by the waist, I navigate our way through the crowded club, the music is thumping, the bass vibrating through the floor and up the soles of my feet, my insides palpitating with every beat.

I haven't been to a club in a long time, the time I spent working in this environment during school was enough to put me off. Bodies are everywhere, in a range of undress, from those who clearly came straight from work to those who look like they took a number of layers off before stepping foot in here.

Lucy squeezes my hand when a girl dressed in what can only be described in underwear with mesh over the top passes us and I catch the infectious giggle threatening to burst from her lips.

Dragging her little body to stand in front of me, we wait in line for the bar and I wrap my arms around her, blocking the mass of people pushing us forward from touching her.

I rest my chin on her shoulder, leaning my cheek against hers and just for a moment, let my eyes drift shut.

Dangerously imagining.

Her shoulders tug me forward and I'm back into the present as I angle towards the waiting bartender.

"Two shots of tequila, Reposado not Blanco and two vodka and sodas with lime, fresh not syrup."

"Harry, seriously? Tequila?" Lucy yells, still between my arms.

A smile creeps across my face at the crease in her brow and how her lips turn down at the edges when she pouts. I can't wait to see her have fun, she deserves a night without worry.

I unhook an arm to hold the little glass up to hers, "To being twenty-six."

The smile that crosses her face is almost as priceless as the way she scrunches it up in distaste as the tequila hits the back of her throat.

"That was premium tequila, almost as smooth as it gets," I laugh at her dramatics and she shakes her head and sticks her tongue out before downing half the vodka drink in two gulps.

I lower the glass and touch my nose to her temple.

"Easy, baby. Need you to be able to dance with me."

Her body stiffens and my stomach somersaults at my slip of the tongue but I decide not to let her or myself dwell on it. Taking her hand, I pull her back through the crowd as the liquor heats up my belly and I lead her onto the overly packed dance floor.

We're forced to be close, but I don't care and she doesn't seem to either as bodies sway around us and we easily disappear into the sea of people.

Lucy's nervous, the anxiety she holds on to so tightly not yet dissolved with the alcohol as her teeth sink into her bottom lip and her eyes look everywhere but in my direction.

I tilt my head and empty my glass.

Throwing caution to the wind, I draw her hips to mine, her hands apprehensive as they find their place on my shoulders.

We make eye contact when my finger and thumb lightly hold her chin and her attention.

"We'll figure it out," I repeat what I told her at my parents' house and I see her swallow before she nods and I feel my heart skip a beat.

A/N: 

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