Lethal Lust (Harry Styles x Reader)

the hotel room.

My secret was out.

Harry's mask was pulled away from his badly beaten up face in front of the entire student body. They looked on at me in shock, like how I imagine that kid in that one song about "I saw mommy kissing Santa Clause" seeing his mum with someone that defo wasn't his dad. The dream Otp of Eastside was dead, and it's all my fault.

All it took was a 45 second fight to completely destruct and dismantle the reputation that I had been building for what feels like aeons.

See, I'm no longer Eastside's resident "Girl Next Door" who is open, approachable, unassuming, and completely nonthreatening. With a wholesome sense of femininity and down-to-earth positivity that everybody adores!

No

Now I'm a lying, cheating, two-timing harlot! God, I remember pure hating Kristen Stewart for what she did to Robert Pattison and now I'm her! Just unexpectedly shitting on everybody's favourite couple but y'know what, its' so weird how the entire student body looks up to Dylan and I like we're some sort of staple for true love. WE ARE EIGHTEEN YEARS OLD! THIS WAS EVENTUALLY INEVITABLE!

"Don't think about it." Harry said, as we stood in the elevator. We had ran away as quickly as we could go our room before anyone could come after us. The elevator  was surrounded in rose-gold mirrors and I couldn't help but to look at the steely surface and furrow my brow at the monster I had created.

"I'm not, I'm perfectly fine." I retorted, if I wanted to salvage anything out of this chaotic mess I better try to remain cool and collected in front of Harry.

"If you're "perfectly fine" then why are you pacing back and forth then?"

I don't know, Styles! Maybe its' because the whole entire student body of Eastside is going to slaughter me come Monday morning or I'm going to have to be dumped by Dylan so nobody becomes suspicious and then he's going to have to find someone else to be his beard and then I am going to be completely alone and isolated from everybody and everything because the one person I could count on, Matilda undoubtably hates me because I screamed at her like the horrible, ignorant person I am!

"Harry," I said with a lump in my throat, "i'm terrified."

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"Hold still" I softly demanded, wrapping his bleeding arm with torn fabric from his shirt, doused in Vodka. The bitter smell combined with the sharp, metallic aroma of blood made me feel a little unhinged.

See, I'm the type that refuses to watch medical gory stuff like Grey's Anatomy. I don't know how people can sit around their tv and eat dinner while watching that doll from Killing Eve perform open heart surgery. Its' scary and bloody and yeah I'm just not going to think about it.

But desperate times, well they call for desperate measures. It was either confront my fears or let Harry bleed to death and yeah I don't really want that. Harry was really badly injured from the fight.

To paint a picture for you, his head was like bleeding furiously, his nose bruised black and blue and these weird bite marks all over his skin with a gash oozing open on his lower left leg.

Harry winced as the alcohol stung through his cuts, squirming in agitation. "I'm sorry, Harry but this is the only way I can disinfect the wounds."

Harry gave a sigh, "I know - but God, does this hurt like a bitch."

I tidied away my make-shift first aid kit and wiped away the blood from the bathroom counters. The blood, well his blood it looked kind of weird? Like usually its' this ruby red colour, well mines is anyway. His was like this really dark shade of red with a blue tinge to it.