Entwine | H.S

Entwine | H.S

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WpMetadataReadPentru adulțiÎn curs de desfăşurare4h 27m
WpMetadataNoticeUltima publicare mar, dec 16, 2025
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Will Sienna Moretti kill Harry Styles... or fall for the monster who shattered her world? A story of intoxicating desire, all consuming love and merciless deceit. Secrets rot beneath silk suits and sharpened smiles. Entwine • verb: wind or twist together; interweave. - The words die in my throat when I hear an obnoxious noise ring out from behind me. Clapping. I push on my crutches, shifting to turn around. My eyes are met with a man-clad in a black suit-standing a few feet away from me, white hot seeing range pulses through every fibre of my being at the sight of him. Harry Styles. His green eyes pierce into mine, a cocky smirk plastered on his face, clapping his palms with a cigarette rested between his index and forefinger while he leant against a tree. "If I thought putting Vincent in the ground would make you this fragile," he drawls, voice dripping with venom as he places the cigarette between his lips. "I would've done it sooner."
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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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