Isabelle's P.O.V

“Mrs. Styles,” I said timidly, biting into a forkful of mashed potatoes tentatively, “This is really good.” Harry’s mom swelled with pride, “Oh, thanks dear. And call me Anne.” Harry chuckled as Gemma pretended to barf. I rolled my eyes and looked back down at my plate, which was heaped with potatoes, roast beef, peas and corn. The food was delicious.

Harry picked at his plate with his fork. “Harry,” Anne prodded, “Why aren’t you eating, dear?”

Harry shook his head, “No reason. Just thinking.”

“About what?” Gemma got into the conversation too, and I nudged his leg under the table. He looked at me momentarily. “Oh,” Gemma cooed, nodding empathetically, “I see. Thinking of your girlfriend, eh?” I internally groaned.

“Gem,” Harry said seriously, “That was the worst accent I’ve ever heard.” Gemma laughed. I liked her laugh. It wasn’t a fake girly laugh, like the ones most women do. It was a full laugh, and it sounded like she was actually enjoying herself. I just wished that she would find a different sort of entertainment, one that didn’t feature my cheeks reddening.

“So Isabelle,” Anne said, taking a bite of roast beef, “How did you and Harry meet?”

I shot Harry a look, trying to play it cool. We couldn’t exactly tell her how we really met: He dragged me off the street and then I had to pose as his fake-girlfriend for three weeks. Well, that was until we actually fell for each other, and had a passionate make-out session before he brought me here. Yeah that story would go down so well with his mother.

“Um,” I clenched my fork so hard that my knuckles turned white, “Well, it’s kind of hard to explain—,” suddenly Harry cut in, saving my ass, “Liam introduced me to her,” he said matter-of-factly, “When he was still dating Danielle. They broke up now, as you know, but Isabelle and I became friends.”

Anne nodded, looking pleased, “Oh, that’s sweet.” Gemma was smiling too, a nice, pleasant smile, but her eyes betrayed her. They were narrowed, and they looked at me as if to say, I don’t believe a word of that. I looked away, not wanting to collapse under her intense gaze. I cleared my throat.

“So Isabelle,” Anne said again, and for a moment, I thought she was going to ask another question that I had no idea how to answer, “Have you seen some embarrassing pictures of Harry yet?” Harry groaned and covered his face, his fork clinking against the plate. “Mum, no, please.” Anne laughed joyfully, “Harry, I’m your mum. You should know by now that it’s my job to embarrass you,” she turned to me, “I’ll show you after dinner,” she reassured me, and I grinned. I nudged Harry, “I’m looking forward to it.”

*That night*

I lay awake in the guest bedroom, staring up at the ceiling. It was eleven thirty at night, and everyone decided that it would be best to go to bed so that Gemma could show Harry and me around the town tomorrow. Secretly, I was a bit scared. That look Gemma had given me at dinner terrified me, and I was afraid that if Harry left us alone for a moment, she would begin bombarding me with questions that I wouldn’t be able to answer.

But then I thought of Harry, and I smiled. He was just so perfect. The way his hair swept to the side, and how he grinned at me, exposing his cute dimple. I thought about the way he kissed me, soft and gentle, like he didn’t want to break me. He seemed so comfortable being here, as he should have been, since it was his house, but I felt as though I was intruding. Shouldn’t I have just let him come to be alone with his family?

I stood and brushed some hair out of my eyes, grabbing the elastic that I’d tied around my wrist earlier and tying my hair into a high ponytail. I adjusted the tank top and sweatpants I was wearing and took a deep breath, crossing to the door. I bet you could guess where I was going.

I bumped into Harry in the hall. “Hey,” he whispered, not wanting to wake Gemma or his mom, “I was just coming to see you.” It was dark, but I could just make out the outlines of his face. I reached up silently, grabbing what I assumed were his shoulders, and running my hands inward, where I reached his neck. I could see a flash of teeth; he was grinning.

“Harry,” I said suddenly, as if I was suffocating. I felt like I hadn’t kissed him in forever.

“Harry,” I said again. As if he’d read my thoughts, he grabbed my hand and pulled me down the hall. We entered his bedroom, and he shut the door quietly. I stood, watching him rise up to his full height and tower over me. “Do you want—?” he faltered.

I stood up to my full height, but I only reached his chin. I looked up at him and grabbed the nape of his neck, pulling his down to me and kissing him softly. He made a pleased noise at the back of his throat and I arched my body up towards his. Soft moonlight streamed through his curtains, and I noticed that he was wearing a cotton t-shirt and sweatpants, like me.

We stumbled over to his bed where he lowered me down lightly and climbed atop of me, his lips never leaving mine. I tangled my legs with his and then wrapped them around his hips, my ankles locking. I held him there.

He grinned against my mouth as the kiss transformed into something alien. Gone were the softness and the innocence, replaced with something more animal-like. Harry’s lips attacked mine, and I could practically feel the hunger radiating off of his body. I rolled us around so that we were side-by-side on the bed, our mouths locked in a fierce combat. I reached for his t-shirt and it was thrown to the side in a nanosecond, leaving his chest bare. Running my cold fingers along his heated pectoral muscles, I kissed him. One of his hands eased one of my tank top straps down my shoulder while the other slipped tentatively under the hem.

Just then, his fingers brushed the bottom of my bare back, right where my spine was, and a memory flickered through my mind. I tensed and pulled back, distancing myself from him and staring at him, feeling embarrassed. “Um,” I said quietly, pulling my ridden-up top back down and yanking the strap back up, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he said immediately, sounding almost stern. I felt blush appear on my cheeks and we stared at each other for a few moments, letting the silence drone on. Finally Harry shifted. “What do you want me to do?” he whispered. He wasn’t grinning or smirking, and his voice wasn’t teasing. He sounded serious.

I know I must’ve sounded like a three-year-old, but I was feeling vulnerable and unsure of myself. “Hold me?” what I wanted to be a statement came out as a question. I expected Harry to shake his head, but instead he shifted closer to me. We wrapped our arms around each other as I nestled my face in his collarbone. I could feel him kiss my hair and he rested his chin atop my head.

“Harry, I…” I trailed off. “Yeah?” he asked, but I shook my head lightly, “Nothing.” Harry cleared his throat as I wrapped my arms a little more secure around him, afraid to let go.

Eventually his breathing slowed and evened out, and I guessed he was asleep.I kissed his shoulder lightly and sighed, feeling my eyelids droop. And then our breaths moved together in perfect synchronization as I fell asleep.

*The next morning*

I awoke in the bed, suddenly feeling cold. Rummaging around with my hand, I realised why: Harry was gone. “Harry?” I called out, sitting up abruptly. For a moment, I panicked, afraid that he had just left me, but then the bathroom door opened, and he stepped out. I breathed again.

“Sorry,” he said, grinning sheepishly, “Just had to use the loo.” I nodded and scooted over to the side of the bed, where I stood. Harry held out his arms as I walked over to him, and he enveloped me in an embrace when I got close enough. I wrapped my arms around his muscular abdomen and buried my face in his shoulder. “I’m sorry about last night,” I said, trying not to choke on the words.

I felt him shake his head; the movement making his shoulders bounce slightly. “Don’t you ever fucking apologise for something as simple as that,” he told me sternly. I nodded, sighing, and he cleared his throat. “So,” he began, and I felt his body tense up for a moment, “How do you like things?”

I laughed and pulled back, staring up into his green eyes. “You’ve asked me that, like, five times since we got here,” I pointed out. He shrugged and smirked down at me and I sighed, resuming our previous position. “I like things a lot,” I said, turning my head so that I wasn’t speaking into his shoulder, “I already told you. Your mother is really sweet. Gemma is a little perverted, but she’s nice enough. And this room is adorable.”

Harry chuckled, “Shut up.” I pulled back, stepping away from him, “There’s just one thing. I don’t think Gemma,” I lowered my voice, “bought our story. You know, of how we met. She’s going to show us around today, and I don’t want her to start asking me questions that I can’t answer.”

Harry laughed, “Are you saying you need me to stay with you at all times?”

“That would be nice,” I said, sighing for dramatic effect. I sat down on the bed, my shoulders slumping, “But I’m serious. What are we going to say if she asks about it upfront?” Harry shrugged and grinned at me. I groaned, “How can you be smiling when I’m asking a serious question?”

He laughed and shrugged, “I don’t know. You’re just so cute when you get nervous. Your eyebrows get all scrunched up.” I blushed and tried to stay focussed, not paying any attention that his chest was bare, and the V-line of his hips extremely prominent. I rolled my eyes, “I’m serious Harry.”

“How many times have you said ‘serious’ in this conversation?”

“You know what? Shut up.”

Harry laughed as I lay back down on the bed, covering myself up. A moment later, he was beside me, sitting on the bed and looking down at me. “I think,” he said, and I was grateful that he was finally acting professional, “That we should just go with the flow. If Gemma asks, I’ll repeat what I said last night. That’s all.”

“That’s all?” I peeked out from under the blankets. He nodded knowingly, “That’s all.” I nodded too and pulled the covers back over my eyes while Harry groaned and shifted, standing up off the bed. Peeking out again, I saw him walk into the washroom, but he didn’t close the door. He began stripping, pulling his sweatpants off. Daintily I shrugged out of the blankets and made my way over to him. He grinned at me through the mirror, seeing me approach him. I tried not to notice that he was only wearing boxers now. Wrapping my arms around his body, I stared at our reflection in the mirror. He chuckled and said, “You’re an extremely hard person to figure out, you know that?”

“I know,” I replied, trying to stay cool. I could feel blush form on my cheeks, and in order to avoid embarrassment, I peppered kisses along his shoulder blades. He turned back around and brushed some hair off of my forehead, letting his hand slide down to squeeze my hip.

“Harry, I don’t think we should be doing this,” I whispered.

“Why not?” he asked quietly and I cleared my throat, not wanting my voice to come out as a squeak. “Because,” I said, “You’re mom could walk in, or Gemma.” Harry shook his head, smiling slightly, “I locked my bedroom door. And,” he said, reaching over my shoulder and turning the knob on the washroom door, “I’ve locked this one too, just for extra precautions.”

He grinned at me, knowing that I was caught. I simply glided my foot back, pushing the bathroom door closed. Harry’s smile grew wider, and I curved the corners of my mouth tentatively at him. He chuckled and leaned down, kissing me softly.

“Do you want to just kiss?” he asked, pulling back, clearing his throat, and for once, actually looking unsure of something…and even a little nervous. I looked up at him, unsure of what I wanted. Last night had come pretty close to sex, and even though I really like Harry, I didn’t know if I was ready for all that yet.

There was a smaller part of me though, that felt horny as hell, and that part wanted Harry to pull me into bed with him and do whatever. I tried restraining that part, but sometimes it got out of control, like last night. I was just able to come to my senses at the right time, the memory that had flickered through my head, saving me. As if triggered by the thought, I suddenly felt cold on my back.

“Um,” I said, swallowing, “Yeah, if that’s okay.” I tried looking confident, but my voice wavered. Harry however, nodded, and pulled me to him, crushing our bodies together. His mouth was soft against mine, and our lips moved in perfect synchronization. Everything faded away, and all that was left was Harry and me, kissing.

My hands slid up to tangle in his hair, curling into fists. His fingers slid down my hips and twisted around my thighs. He hoisted my left thigh up and wrapped it around his waist, so that he was supporting me. I smiled against his lips.

He pushed me up against the door, and I could feel that same small part of me yearning for him, but I built an imaginary cage around it so that it couldn’t get out. My whole body tingled, and I felt that part of me trying to break the cage. Wanting to stop things before they got too out of hand, I broke away, winding my arms around Harry’s neck and just staying there, my head nestled in his shoulder. He seemed to realise what I was feeling, because he nodded and leaned down to unlock the door. We stood there, wrapped in each other’s embrace for a few minutes. Finally he cleared his throat.

“We should change,” he said matter-of-factly, “We’re leaving in about two hours.” I nodded and unwound my arms from him, turning to walk back into the bedroom. Quietly I opened the bathroom door and crossed the bedroom, walking out of that door too. I was heading for the guest bedroom, where my suitcase was lying on the floor. I quickly snatched up a plain purple sweater, skinny jeans, and a pair of leather boots. Then I padded back over to Harry’s room.

He was lying on his bed, only in his boxers. Reflexively, I put my hands up in front of my face, “Shit, sorry.” I could hear him chuckle and the familiar sound of his footsteps. Quickly realising that his goal was to get to me, I sprinted to the bathroom door and closed it, locking it.

“Oh come on,” he called, and for a moment I was afraid that he’d wake up Gemma and his mom. “Shh!” I whispered through the door, still clutching my clothes in one hand. I giggled as he groaned, “You know you just basically locked me out of my own bathroom?”

“I know,” I called out, smiling smugly. He groaned again, but I didn’t hear his feet moving away, so I crouched down on all fours and peeked under the door. I could see his feet and the shadows they cast, and I reached out to poke him. “Hey!” he said, and a moment later he was crouching down as well, and I was looking in his eyes, the door being the only thing separating us.

“What’s up?” I asked mockingly, and he smiled. Then I stood back up and shrugged out of my pajamas, pulling on my sweatshirt and my jeans. I grabbed my boots in my hand and unlocked the door, pushing it open slightly. Harry had changed into a pair of jeans, but his chest was still bare. He was barefoot, like me, and rummaging through his top drawer on his dresser. I snuck up behind him silently and hooked my hands into his back pockets, using the leverage to pull him to me. He turned quickly, looking surprised, but then a lazy smile appeared on his face. I giggled as I wrapped my arms around him. “I love this,” he sighed, resting his chin on the crown of my head. “What?” I asked, turning my head to the side so that my cheek was pressed against his collarbone, studying his tattoos. He shrugged, “Just this…being with you.”

There was a moment of silence until I said, “I love it too.” Harry chuckled and I traced the wings of a sparrow on his right pectoral muscle. “You know,” I said, “Having tattoos is bad for you. Over time, the ink fades and sinks into your skin and poisons your blood.” Harry laughed at the sudden change of the subject.

“Well then,” he puffed up his chest, and I giggled as my head moved with the action, “Would you have sex with me before I died?” I pulled away, scoffing, and slapped his abdomen,

“Just for that, you can’t hug me anymore.”

I sat back down on his bed, tittering, and let myself fall backwards, so that I was staring up at the ceiling. Harry laughed and continued rummaging through his drawer, finally pulling out just a plain white V-neck sweater and shrugging it on. I could still see a bit of the sparrow above the neckline.

“So,” I pressed, “Have you thought about what I said? About you know…Gemma?” Harry shrugged, smoothing out the wrinkles in his sweater. I sat back up, “I’m serious Harry. Don’t you think we should at least have a backup story?”

“Don’t worry,” he assured me, staring at me for a nanosecond, a smirk playing on his lips, “It’ll be fine.”

“Is that you way of telling me that you don’t have a plan?” I scoffed, rubbing my fingers on my jean-clad thighs impatiently. Harry started to laugh, and I rolled my eyes, getting slightly agitated. “I’m serious you know.”

“Calm down,” Harry pulled up his top, examining his toned abs, and grinned when he caught me looking. He let his shirt fall back down, and I almost wanted to rip it off, but I restrained myself, arguing that this was far more important. He continued, walking over to me and sitting next to me. He grabbed my hand, “You stress way too much. Just go with the flow.”

He kissed my cheek lightly, and I rolled my eyes again, “You can never be too careful,” I countered. I started to bounce my left leg up and down. Harry reached over and put his hand on my thigh, which made me stop. He grinned at me, “You’re a jumpy little thing, aren’t you?”
I blushed and put my head down, “And you’re not serious,” I tried the argument out on my tongue, but it just sounded lame. Harry chuckled lazily, “Just shut up,” he commanded, “Or do I have to make you?”

I looked over at him, blushing deeper. “That would be nice,” I replied in a small voice. He smirked at me and pulled me in for a deep, lingering kiss. When we broke apart, he grinned a mellow grin, “Now will you stop worrying?”

“Only if I get more kisses like that,” I bargained, and he laughed. I smiled, pleased that I could make him happy like that, even when my jokes and comebacks weren’t the best at times. I suddenly felt a rush of emotions take over me, and I wanted to kiss him badly. But then I realised that this was only a hormonal period, and the emotions left as quickly as they had come. Instead, I grinned at Harry as he stood and offered me his hand.
I took it, saying, “We should go have breakfast. I’m starved.”

“You are?” he asked, looking surprised.

“Yeah. Aren’t you?”

“No, not that much.”

“How can you not like breakfast?” I asked, my jaw dropping, “It’s the best meal of the day. I wake up every day feeling happy because I can look forward to breakfast.” Harry held up his hands, “Whoa, slow down. I like breakfast; I’m just not that hungry.”

As if wanting to betray him, I heard his stomach rumble. I grinned, “Oh, I think you’re hungry.”

Notes

Whoo! A long chaptah!!!
Let me know what you think <3
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COULD ALL OF MY SUBSCRIBERS PLEASE VOTE? PRETTY, PRETTY PLEASE...I REALLY WANT TO MAKE IT TO 20 VOTES! THANKS...

Also...let me know if you like the long author's
notes at the end...I'm not sure whether to do them or not.

That awkward moment when you ask a question in class that the teacher literally just answered...don't be ashamed, it's happened to everyone ;)

One more thing: I'm sorry that it's had to come to this, but I will update again when I get 5 more comments. I really need someone else's input on this story. So yes, 5 more comments. That equals...eh, whatever, do the math because I'm too lazy to...