Isabelle's P.O.V

"So what do you want to do?" Harry demanded. I pursed my lips. We were still sitting on the couch, but he was holding me in his arms. I snuggled up closer to him, nuzzling my face in his neck.

To be honest, all I wanted to do was stay here, like this, with him.

"I don't know," I admitted truthfully, but then I smiled and hugged him tighter, "I just want to stay here."

He cocked an eyebrow, "Here, as in your living room, or here, as in
this position?" I blushed as he grinned cheekily at me and mumbled, "This position, obviously." His smile grew wider.

"Good," he said simply, and then added, "Because I prefer that too."

I blushed even deeper as he pulled me even closer, something I'd thought was impossible. I smiled up at him, feeling genuinely happy. It'd been a while since I'd felt this happy, especially after my mother's death.

Harry kissed the top of my head lightly as I reached for the remote. I flicked the television on and a black and white flick appeared on the screen.

"Ugh," Harry groaned and I giggled.

"So I take it that you're not a classics guy?" I laughed. He shook his head vigorously. I put on a snobby face, "Well too bad because I am."

I grinned satisfactorily as he rolled his eyes. "Damn," he muttered, "I should've asked what movie preference you liked in twenty-one questions."

A thought then came to me. "We didn't finish playing twenty-one questions," I realised. Harry looked down at me, smirking slightly,

"Oh yeah, we didn't. What were we doing again?"

I rolled eyes but blushed nonetheless. In a way though, I was glad to see that Harry's perverted side was still there. I had missed every part of him.

Determined to show him that I wasn't someone that he could make uncomfortable so rapidly, I said, "This," and without warning, I pressed my lips to his hungrily.

The kiss seemed to take him slightly by surprise, but quicker than I could've imagined, he regained his composure and kissed me back fiercely. His fingers dug into my hips as he pulled me onto his lap, so that I was straddling his waist.

His hands found their way to the back of my head and quickly tugged the tie out of my hair, and it fell down in waves against my back. He then began to run his fingers through my hair. I sighed and blushed softly.

I put my hands on his hips, playing with the hem of his shirt, and occasionally slipping my fingers under it, feeling his warm skin.

His lips molded against mine perfectly, like we had been made just to kiss each other, something I'd desperately hoped was true.

Finally, after a few more seconds of kissing, I broke away from him, catching my breath. He did the same and was about to dive in for more, but I put a hand on his chest to stop him.

"Um," I panted, "How about we finish our game of twenty-one questions?"

Harry groaned again and I stifled a laugh. "How about we play truth or dare?" He suggested instead. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes, but I didn't think anything of it.

I looked around and pouted, "But Harry, there's nobody here except for us."

"Exactly," he said, and he pulled me down onto the floor. We both fell on the carpet, laughing like idiots and scrambling up into sitting positions, facing each other.

"Okay," Harry said, "You first. Truth or dare?"

"Truth," I said. I knew that truth was bad, because I'd have to spill something juicy. But was dare really any better? Okay wait, maybe it was. I suddenly wished that I could change my answer.

Thankfully, Harry didn't ask me a question that was too hard to answer. "Do you have any annoying habits that I should know about?"

I looked down and mumbled, "When I get nervous, I blush."

Harry laughed at that, "Yeah, um, I've noticed." I slapped his arm playfully and took in his appearance. His lips were slightly redder than usual, due to our make out session that had occured only a minute ago. His hair was ruffled and curly, his eyes seemed to sparkle. I loved it.

"Alright, your turn," I said, itching to change the subject, "Truth or dare?"

"Dare," he replied, grinning proudly and somewhat cocky. I thought about it for a moment before saying, "I dare you to go into our kitchen and eat a spoonful of mustard."

"Ew," he made a face and I giggled, "Too bad Styles. Go."

And so he did. We both stood, I followed him up to the kitchen and opened the fridge door. I quickly pulled out a bottle of mustard and a spoon, and squirted as much mustard as I could fit onto the spoon.

Then I grinned evilly and handed the spoon to Harry. He took a deep breath, which made me giggle, and then ate it. Swallowing, he made a face and stuck out his tongue, "I hate mustard."

"So do I," I giggled, and he cocked an eyebrow.

Before I could even react, he pressed his lips to mine, transferring the taste from his mouth to mine. I pushed him away, squealing and wiping my mouth, trying to take any mustard off. I really hated mustard.

"Okay," Harry said, grabbing my hands and leading me back into the living room. The old film was still playing, but it was silent.

"Truth or dare?" Harry asked me, and I immediately replied with 'dare'.

"Alright," he said and grinned at me. Something about that grin made me go on edge, "I dare you to...take off your shirt."

"What?" I exploded. Harry just smirked and I shook my head quickly, "No, no way. We are playing truth or dare, not strip poker!"

"To bad," Harry smiled smugly, "I dared you. You have to. Personally, I think eating mustard is worse than having to take off your shirt."

I resorted to pouting, "But Harry," I whined, "I'm only wearing a bra underneath."

He grinned maliciously at me, "All the more reason to take it off."

I gritted my teeth, knowing that there was no use in arguing with him. Slowly, tentatively, I crossed my arms over my torso and grabbed the hem of the baggy Hipsta Plzzz shirt. I inhaled deeply before pulling it over my head. I really didn't want to expose my torso to Harry, but he'd dared me. And I had a feeling that he wasn't going to let me wiggle out of this one.

"You're a pervert, you know that?" I asked before I tugged the top over my head and let it fall to the floor. I stared at the ground, but

Harry didn't answer. Looking back up, I saw him staring at my breasts, his jaw hanging. "That is a dancer's body," he breathed.

"Harry, stop!" I screamed, covering myself up with my arms. I realised then how poorly thought-out this was. I was wearing a lacy black bra, which dipped considerably in the front, exposing some of my average-sized chest. Great.

Harry laughed as I flushed beet red.

Just then there was the sound of tires pulling up. Oh God, Kate was home. I cursed and pulled on my shirt again, making Harry's perverted moment short-lived. Thank you God.

"My sister's here!" I hissed at Harry, and he scrambled into action, helping me tug on the baggy top, without failing to let his hands 'accidentally' brush against my toned stomach. I simply rolled my eyes as we got into a sitting position on the couch.

"Let's just watch television," I panted, slightly out of breath.

Harry nodded but said, "But please, change the channel."

I laughed, "Will do."

Notes

There we go! Isabelle and Harry are finally together! Thoughts? Please let me know what you thought about this chapter! Thank you to my new voter and subscriber! You make me happy, when skies are gray, la la la la.....

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P.P.S Thank you so much for over 2k views! Er mah gurd I'm jumping up and down.