Metanoia |h.s.|

Metanoia (n.)

The journey of changing one's heart, mind or way of life.

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"No one has ever been able to stop me from slipping away from their reach, darling. You'll never be able to keep me here forever." his voice growled through the dark dimmed room. A space that seemed too small for two unmatched souls plotting wars and peaces inside of it.

I could not quite understand why my own self was caught off guard by his ice cold statement. It was true. No one was able to keep him locked, peaceful and free of all the sins in this world that he obviously craves with every single breath that he consumes with his lungs.

No one could tame a beast that was Harry Styles.

Until now.

My feet prepared for keeping me balanced on the cold cement floor of the room, allowing me to stand up from the bed. The gaze that was watching me wandered upwards while I changed the position of my body. Those eyes burned their fire in a very strong manner. Clever enough to reach me, but not skilled enough to take over me.

I confidently walked a few steps forward, my heavy boots thumping on the ground, creating echoes in the silence. Within a couple of seconds, my frame stood in front of his sitting silhouette while he still stared without even blinking.

I took the moment as an opportunity to reach for his chin and move his head so he could not look away and I could examine his face even more. He was not giving away any signs of tension. He was not changing a slight sparkle in his forest eyes. I could see the way his body kept being calm and unalarmed by my action.

"We'll see about that." I muttered under my breath, making it come out as a soft whisper before I smirked widely, giving him a teasing wink.

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WARNING: This story contains mature themes and language. Read at your own risk.

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