hotel room 108 [narry au]

champagne daydreams

chapter five

N.J.H.
Harry haunts me, and not in a bad way. No, not in a bad way at all. Whenever I even hear his name, my mind drifts back to Louis' breakfast. I can't shake off the way he had me pinned up again the sink, his hands leaving a burning sensation on my chilled skin. He made me so nervous when he stared at me with the dangerous amount of lust in his eyes.

I want him, fuck I need him. All my life I've never had an urge to have someone in my grip, but god I want Harry. Maybe when I'm driving to work I do a happy dance in my seat, but only because I get to see him.

I enter the design division and swipe my name tag across the scanner. Once I put my stuff down I'm immediately bombarded by multiple people.

"Mr. Horan! Mr. Styles needs to see you immediately!"

"The designs for The Avengers 2 posters need to be approved!"

"Niall--"

The only thing being shouted at me that I hear is the one mentioning Harry.

"Mr. Styles needs to see me?" I ask.

"Yes, it's very urgent he says!"

Urgent hm...

I get up from my desk and begin to follow the directory to Harry's office. I've never been there before, and I think this is the only I feel lost in a place I know so well.

"Do you know where Mr. Styles' office is?" I ask someone.

"First door on the right," he says, walking away gruffly, "be careful, he's an ass."

This catches me off guard. The Harry I met does not come across as a jerk at all. I grab the man's shoulder and turn him around to face me.

"What did he do to you?"

"Why don't you figure out for yourself?"

The man walks away in a huff and the boulder in my stomach drops down lower than it should. Come to think of it, I've never actually met work engrossed Harry. What if it's a disaster?

Either way, I silently pray to God and open the door.

"Harry?" I say. His feet are perched on the top of his desk and he looks up from the pamphlet he's reading, a cheeky smile on his face. All ideas of questioning him disappear as I get a good look at him in tight skinny jeans and an opened up dress shirt. My mind turns to mush as I get a good look at all the tattoos on his defined tan chest.

"Niall Horan, finally you come to see me. I was starting to begin to think I wouldn't see you and your beautiful face..."

I blush like crazy and look at my shoes,

"You're just saying that...you shouldn't--"

"And what if I'm being serious Mr. Horan?"

I roll my eyes as my cheeks flush a deeper red. His feet move into my eye sight and I realize he's standing in front of me now. I look up a second too late; he's already got a hand on my waist and my rear against his desk.

"How are you?" He asks me quietly. I feel the pad of his index finger trace circles around my lower back. I gulp and awkwardly place my hands on his hips, slightly pushing myself up.

"I'm doing well, yeah--uh, h-haven't we been in this position before?"

"We could be in so many more if you'd just figure out which team you wanna play for," he says in a hushed voice, going for my ear again. My mouth parts slightly, my hands dropping from his hips. When he pulls away I feel flustered and upset. He walks around his desk to the other side, acting like he wasn't just pressed against me all hotly.