The Boy From the Bar (h.s.)

The Boy From the Bar (h.s.)

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Wed, Oct 15, 2014
"Kiss me, Harry,” I whisper, almost as shocked at the words as he seems to be. “I thought you’d never ask, baby,” he says before delicately brushing his hand on my blushed cheek, letting it linger as he leans in. When our lips meet, I feel fireworks in my stomach. He’s gentle, moving his lips slowly against mine. He slips his lower lip between mine, kissing my top lip as his fingers play with the hair at the nape of my neck. Oh my God! Shit. Fuck. Oh my God! We continue to kiss for what feels like hours, but I’m sure it’s only seconds. He moves his lips from my lips to my jaw right by my chin. My hand reaches out and I entangle my fingers in the curls that fall out of the bottom of his beanie. He makes a line of kisses along my jaw line, until he reaches just below my ear, keeping his hand on the other side of my face. “Did you like the show, Lisa?” he whispers in my ear, sending chills through my entire body. My heart is pounding, and I can barely think straight. He moves his head to look at me, still only inches away from my face with his, only inches away from my lips with his. “Yeah” is all I get stutter out. “You were right. I’m glad we shared our first kiss under fireworks instead of in that old bar,” he tells me. “And I wouldn't say we’re strangers anymore,” I somehow reply. Kiss me again, please. As if he reads my mind, he closes the small distance between our mouths and puts his lips on my again. ------------------------------------------------------------------- Good girl Lisa joins her best friend at a local bar on karaoke night, where she meets the intoxicating Harry Styles. As their relationship grows, so does Lisa. When things start to heat up, will Lisa play with fire or hide in the smoke?
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"Why do you care?" he asks. But it's not soft. It's sharp, defensive, like he's already bracing for the answer. I want to tell him the truth. Because you saved me. Because you're the only one who makes me feel real. Because if you fall apart, I don't know what happens to the rest of us. Instead, I just say, "Maybe I want to understand." He scoffs, no humor in it. "You don't. Trust me." Silence stretches between us. Then he steps forward, close enough that I can see the way his hands won't stop shaking. "You already know too much," he says, voice low. "More than you ever should've." I don't look away. "Then tell me the rest." He shakes his head. "It's not your place. You don't get to ask." "But I am asking." He exhales sharply. "Jesus, Lily. This isn't a story with a clean ending. I'm not a mystery. I'm a goddamn warning sign. I'm dangerous." I flinch, but I don't move. And that pisses him off more. He takes a step back like he's going to leave, then pauses. His eyes flick to my jacket. In one quick motion, he reaches in and pulls out the burner phone. "I think this belongs to me," he says, tone sharp but quiet. No accusation. Just fact. I don't respond. Just watch as he slips it into his pocket, like closing a door I wasn't supposed to open. He looks at me for one long second, jaw clenched. "Go home," he says again, this time like a warning. And this time, I believe him. He crushes the cigarette under his boot, turns his back, and walks down the alley, leaving me standing in the dark. - Lily didn't ask to be assigned to him. Harry Styles is a name whispered like a warning, famous for his ink, infamous for everything else. Brooding. Untouchable. But Lily has a habit of looking too closely. And when she finds something she shouldn't, the line between curiosity and consequence begins to blur. He told her to stay away. She should've listened. - TW: emotional abuse, manipulation, drugs, sex, violence, trauma.

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