Blackmail. (A Harry Styles Imagine)

Four: Notes

After arguing with Harry, he finally drops me off and goes to his house.

Which is right next to mine. So, that's great.

Now, I'm being sarcastic.

We planned on meeting up tomorrow in our old treehouse that we haven't used in about 5 years.

I was too cold and too tired to discuss anything with Harry so. . .yeah.

When I get home, my dad isn't home, again. Good. I sigh and go upstairs to remove my. . .what you'd call a dress if it didn't show half of your ass.

I lay in bed after putting on my PJ shorts and an oversized shirt.

I just stare at the wall until sleep takes over.

- - -

I wake up to my annoying ass alarm and I press the snooze button.

It's Saturday.

It's Saturday. Why did I set an alarm?

Harry!

Shit.

I get out of bed and do everything at lightning speed. I quickly brush my teeth and hair.

I put on some leggings and a crop top shirt and I put on my black cabs, again.

I don't know why I had to be that specific, but yeah, there you go.

Picture it as a montage. That'd be way less bor-

"Hey Ambie. I didn't think you'd actually show up." I hear Harry say from the top of the treehouse.

"I didn't think we were going to go into the actual treehouse." I ignore his comment and I get onto the rope.

"Hey, I may be eighteen, but I will forever have the spirit of a five-year-old." He says proudly.

"Obviously." I mumble to myself. I begin climbing the rope. This was way easier when I was 4'2 and weighed like 63 pounds.

Every time I step into one of the knots of the rope, my big ass feet slide off.

"Ya need help?" I hear Harry shout from the top of the treehouse.

"I got it." I yell back. I'm about to get in, when my foot slides again and I feel myself fall.

"Ah!"

Harry quickly grabs onto my arms and pull me in before anything else could've happened.

"Oh gosh. Thank you." I say breathlessly as I dust myself off.

"You do know that Niall and I added a ladder at the back of the tree when we were 12. Right?"

I stare up at him in disbelief and his smug expression becomes more and more noticeable.

"Why the fuck didn't you tell me?" I ask him, my voice slowly rising.

"I just wanted to see if-"

"You little fucki-"

- - -

"Okay rule number one. Any suggestions?" Harry asks and I immediately answer.

"No kissing."

He groans and throws his head back in a very, very unnecessary, overdramatic way.

"That's literally the number one thing all couples do. If we don't, people will get suspicious and you'll be a fraud." He argues.