Only Mine • Harry Styles FanFiction

Chapter Twelve

The next morning I woke up and made him breakfast. He stayed home to work from his office, so my chances of avoiding him were zero to none. I decided that completing my chores for the day would be the best way to distract myself from him. It's not like I had any other available plans.

The day managed to pass without the two of us speaking at all. But just as I was finishing my last task of the day, he stopped at the doorway of the laundry room. I can feel his dark eyes traveling from one bit of me, to another.  I can sense his liking to my kneeled position down on the floor. Just like a slave waiting to obey his next order.

First, he clears his throat. When he realizes I will not turn around to look at him, he says sternly;

"We're leaving to Niall's in an hour, be ready."

"Okay."

"You should put these away in my closet once you finish."

"Okay." I respond. His presence soon fades away. A slam of his office door confirms that. I take my time folding the last item of clothing, if I have to do this, I might as well do it right. Once I finally finished, I got back up on my feet and took both hampers up the big stairs.

I set them both down on the dark hardwood floor. My hand grips the doorknob and slowly turn it to the side. My mouth falls agape, in pure awe. The sight in front of me gives me slight chills, yet satisfaction.

His bedroom is dark. Some would say that the black walls that surround every part of this room can be somewhat depressing. Although that could be true, I find them mesmerizing. Every single piece of the modern furniture down to the smallest bit of decoration is sitting neatly in its own place, in the deepest shade of black.

As I close my mouth and take his hamper inside with me, I can't fail to notice the size of the room. It is enormous.

In the middle of the bedroom is a big king sized bed, dressed into silk sheets. The bed is facing the biggest light source in the room. The big bay windows on the very right side.  Behind his bed is a very tall but thin table that reaches the same length and height as the bed's headboard. On each side of the bed is a round small table, playing the role of a nightstand. I walk behind his bed to see his closet peeking behind two dark glass walls. I enter inside and my eyes widen. The big floor to ceiling, open closets are lined up on each side. Every item of clothing is folded neatly on the shelves. Everything is color coordinated. Not that there are many colors to be coordinated. But there is a visible separation between the black, many shades of grey, and white. I set the hamper on a big rectangular ottoman in the middle of the closet and quickly put his clothing away.

A cold chill creates a shiver that runs through my whole body. Making me slightly tense.

"What are you doing here?" I hear him behind me. I turn around, to see him with his back against the wall. His hair is much darker now, due to it being wet. His hands are crossed over his chest while his eyes stare at me. My eyes travel from his, down to his bare torso and tattoos that cover his arms and chest.

I notice small drops of water slowly sliding down his body. My eyes slowly follow them all the way to the brim of a white towel wrapped lowly around his waist. Once I notice that I am staring for far too long, I clear my throat and fix my posture. My eyes notice the expression on his face, a smirk is smugly present on his lips.

"I was just putting your clothes away." I say and put the last folded shirt on the shelf. Turning back around I bump into his chest. I look up at him and gulp nervously.

"Are you alright? You seem nervous." His smirk grows bigger.

"N-n-no. I'm o-okay." I stutter. He only laughs.