Adversity ~ H.S.

Adversity ~ H.S.

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing2h 14m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Tue, Feb 25, 2025
"What's a sweet woman like you doing here all by herself?" His voice is low and raspy, it's hot. He reaches down and tucks a strand of my hair behind my left ear, waiting for my reply. "I'm not sweet. Go back to your table." I tell him firmly. A glimmer of shock passes over his eyes, it's probably the first time he's been rejected. "Playing hard to get, I like it. I don't follow instructions though." he tilts his head as he speaks. "You're a tough shell to crack, I don't know how to read you." "Maybe that's because I don't want you to read me, maybe my pages are better off hidden." I respond, keeping him on his toes and being completely honest. // Maddison Levine and Harry Styles met one night at a grungy bar, she knows he's too pure for her. She turns him down using every last piece of self restraint she has, she can't have him. But Harry doesn't play by the rules, he knows what he wants and he'll get her at any costs; only he doesn't realise how exactly how much she will cost...
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"Yeah, well... I'm starting to think I got stood up." The bartender clicks his tongue, setting his towel down with a slow shake of his head. "Fucking tragic. Can't say I understand it. If I had a date with you, I'd be here an hour early, dressed to fucking impress, already working out ways to keep you entertained all night." I raise an eyebrow, half-smirking. "Smooth." "Don't flatter me yet, love. That was just the warm-up." He nods toward my half-finished wine. "Tell you what-since your bloke's clearly an idiot, this one's on the house." I blink. "Seriously?" He shrugs, like it costs him absolutely nothing. "What can I say? I've got a soft spot for beautiful people with shit luck." His smirk deepens. "Also, it's good fucking business. You stay longer, you order more, and I get to look like the hero. Everyone wins." I shake my head, laughing as he pours me another glass with the kind of effortless confidence that suggests he's done this a thousand times before-offered a pretty girl a free drink, flashed a dangerous grin, made her night a little less shit. He slides the glass toward me. "Louis, by the way." "Bee," I say, taking a sip.

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