Isabelle's P.O.V

I peeked over people’s heads, trying to find Harry, but I was far too short. I really wanted to find him. I’d seen many pretty girls here, and I wasn’t too comfortable with Harry being alone, surrounded by beer and many immature guys, gawking at boobs. Stop being jealous, I tried to tell myself, but that just made me even more determined to find him.

I made my way into an almost deserted hallway. Almost deserted, because there was only a couple making out and kissing the life out of each other. “Get a room,” I muttered, pushing past them. Maybe Harry was in one of these rooms.

Suddenly, someone tapped my shoulder, and I turned around, only to find a girl standing behind me. She was blonde, wore far too much makeup, wore a tube top, from which her breasts were practically spilling out, and a miniskirt so short that it should’ve been illegal. She looked like your average late-night hooker. She held a beer in her hand and smiled crookedly at me, and I guessed that she was drunk.

“What’s up?” she asked loudly, over the steady beat of the music. Not really wanting to talk to her, I shrugged, “Nothing much. I’m sorry, but I really need to go find someone.” I turned away before she said something that made me stop in my tracks, “You’re Isabelle Foster, right?”

I turned back around slowly, eyeing her warily, “How do you know that?” I asked skeptically, and she giggled, “Everyone here knows you. You’re almost as famous as your delicious sex god of a boyfriend. God, how did you get so lucky?”

“Excuse me?” I asked, crossing my arms. Did this girl just call my Harry a ‘delicious sex god’? I clenched my jaw, knowing that she’d give just about anything to be stranded in a closet with him for seven minutes. She giggled again, but this time, it sounded more like she was laughing at me, “Oh, honey, please. I’m sure Harry has told you so much about me. I was his first girlfriend you know! My name’s Veronica!”

Oh. So this was the skank that Gem was talking about. I raked my gaze down her body once, and realised that Gemma had been totally right. Veronica was a slut.

Trying to evade a fight, and wanting to get as far away from Veronica as possible, I shook my head slowly, “Well, Harry’s never mentioned you. I don’t think he tries to associate too much with hook-ups anymore. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

I tried pushing past her, but she stepped in front of me, beer sloshing around in her bottle. She pointed a finger at me drunkenly, “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on there, love. Who said I was a hook-up?”

I was getting really fed up with this girl. She couldn’t just waltz in here, strike up a conversation with me, and make it sound like she wanted to move in on my boyfriend. And now she was trying to defend her past relationship with my boyfriend?

“Look,” I said through clenched teeth, “I really need to go. It was nice meeting you.” I finally managed to push past her, and I was about to disappear around the corner, away from her and the kissing couple, when suddenly she screamed out, “We shagged, you know!”

I froze, and my brain fried. Slowly turning back to her, I stared daggers at her, “What did you say?” I tried to remain calm; the last thing I needed was to start a fight and then embarrass myself and Harry. She nodded, smirking somewhat proudly, “That’s right. We shagged. It was amazing.”

I shook my head, laughing bitterly, “You liar,” I hissed, “You guys were thirteen. You never had sex.” I was beginning to feel more confident now. This slut was just lying, trying to make me doubt my boyfriend just so she could move in on him. I wasn’t going to stand by and let her do that.

“You’re wrong,” she said, taking a crooked step towards me, “We did shag. Harry loved it, you know. He kept on going on and on again about how great it was. God,” she threw her head back, “I can still feel his body on top of me. His lips on mine…”

I was shaking with anger. Only the thinnest bit of common sense restrained me from going after this girl and punching her in the face. She was just making this up, trying to get me to not trust my boyfriend anymore. Harry had told me that he hadn’t even really liked his previous girlfriends.

Veronica snapped me out of my thoughts by saying the words that made me break, “I can still feel him inside of me.”

Something inside of me tore. Without a word, I stepped forward, smacking her across the face. She shrieked, but I soon cut her off by snatching her beer bottle out of her hand and pouring the contents atop her head. The alcohol splashed down her hair and into her shirt, all along her breasts. “There,” I snarled, “Now you’re every boy’s wet dream…literally.”

Without another word, I whipped around, tilted my chin up in the air confidently, and stalked off, completely ignoring Veronica’s screeches behind me, or the open-mouth gazes of the snogging couple.

*One hour later*

I had mainly just flitted around the party, chatting with a few people here and there, and refusing whatever drinks were being offered my way. As soon as three or more people around me became stoned, I left, and I noticed that it was getting harder and harder to find people to talk to. Soon enough, my thoughts strayed from Veronica. I wanted to tell Harry about our encounter, but I decided to not bring it up. She was passé, and I knew that Harry cared only for me now. That was what mattered most. I decided to forget that I had even met her.

Finally, as I was weaving my way through people on the dance floor, somebody grabbed my wrist. I whipped around to find Gemma smiling crazily. “Heeey,” she slurred slightly, and I guessed that she was a little tipsy. Her eyes were focussed enough, but I still concluded that I would be the one driving tonight.

“Why so glum, chum?” she asked, pouting. I almost laughed. I’d never seen Gemma act like this before. She grinned and pulled me closer, “Come on,” she screamed, “Let’s dance! You’re so serious all the time!”

Something just came over me. I don’t know if it was just because I was tired of my serious demeanour, or I just wanted to let loose for at least one night, but I smiled and nodded, and soon, Gemma and I were dancing like freaks, throwing our hands up in the air and dancing to the beat of the song.

“I got this feeling on a summer day when you were gone!
I crashed my car into the bridge, I watched, I let it burn!”

Gemma and I continued to laugh and jump around, and suddenly, I felt a pair of hands on my hips. I whipped around, only to find my amazingly beautiful boyfriend smirking down at me. Quickly, I pressed a soft, tender kiss to his lips, momentarily forgetting about the insane party going down around us. Harry turned me forward and I suddenly realised what he wanted. Having not grinded on really anyone before, I was a bit hesitant, but Harry leaned down and whispered in my ear affectionately, “You are beautiful.”

I smiled giddily, something just taking over. I slowly began to move my hips and pressed my body closer to Harry’s. His fingers dug deeper into my hips and I grinned, still completely sober. Judging by how he was acting, I guessed that he was too, and for that, I was grateful.
Harry smashed our bodies together, and we quickly became a part of the grind-fest. I giggled and let my hands snake up and fist in his hair, and he put his mouth to my ear, breathing raggedly. Just knowing that I had that effect on him made me even giddier, and I turned and pressed my lips to his, pausing our dancing. There we stood, in the middle of everyone, just kissing passionately. Finally Gemma tapped on my shoulder and I turned to her. “Get a room!” she screamed.

Harry wrenched me back to him and my mouth landed on his once more. I opened my eyes and saw him give the finger to Gemma from the corner of my eye, and I smiled against his lips. He pulled back, staring deeply into my eyes, “I—,” he began, but he was cut off.

“Is everyone having a good time?” the DJ at a booth a few meters away screamed. The crowd roared in response and the DJ chuckled into his microphone, lifting his hands in the air while music pumped out of the speakers. I grinned up at Harry, “Want to go somewhere else?” I answered, desperately wanting to hear what he would say. He nodded and took my hand, leading me into the kitchen, which was oddly empty.

“Okay,” Harry said, taking my hands in his, “I just wanted to tell you that—”
Suddenly, Gemma stumbled into the kitchen, laughing, along with three other boys, all who looked no more than sixteen. Wow, they really did things differently in England. “Harry,” Gemma giggled, “I saw Matt. He was looking for you. Go say hi.” Harry looked at me and I rubbed his arm, “Go say hi Harry. I know that he’s been your friend for a long time.”

Harry nodded, pecked my lips once, and then pushed past Gemma and the three boys, disappearing. “I’ll be right back!” he screamed, and I giggled. Gemma stumbled suddenly, and I caught her, laughing, “You’re drunk Gem.”

“I know!” she squealed, “Isn’t it great?” I laughed again and one of the sixteen-year old boys tapped my arm, “Do you want a drink?” he asked, smiling at me, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Shying away from him, I shook my head, “Oh, no, I’m good. I’m the one driving tonight.”

“Aw come on,” the boy tried again, “I saw your boyfriend. He looks pretty sober. He can drive.” The boy tried to smile at me, but I noticed that it came more as an evil grin. “Yeah,” Gemma echoed, “Come on Isabelle! Live a little.”

“You know what?” I asked, collapsing under the peer pressure, “Why not?” the boy handed me a beer and his two other friends cackled. Without thinking anything of it, I chugged my beer and began feeling a tad bit light headed. “Another one!” I yelled, and the same boy complied only too eagerly.

He smiled, but this time, it looked more like a snarl.

Harry’s P.O.V

“Hey mate!” I yelled over the loud thumping of music. Matt grinned devilishly at me, “Haz! What’s up? Haven’t seen ya in forever! Get your famous arse over here!” He engulfed me in a hug...a manly hug.

“How are you?” I asked, pulling back, my gaze lingering on him. He tightened the grip he had around his beer, “Not bad, not bad. Can’t complain, nobody will listen!” I chuckled quietly over the roar of music and screams of people. We began to chat a bit more about our lives, and a few minutes later, I politely excused myself, itching to get back to my wonderful girlfriend. Matt nodded; shot me a crooked and suggestive grin and I rolled my eyes, waving and ducking back into the kitchen.

I heard a clang from the kitchen, and panicked slightly, walking a bit faster. There sat Isabelle on a stool, another stool lying sideways on the floor. That must’ve been the clash. Gemma was gone, nowhere to be seen, and for a moment, I’d imagined that she’d taken all of the lads she’d had with her, but that’s when my eyes fully adjusted to the scenario. I started noticing all the little details.

I noticed that there were several empty beer bottles on the counter next to Isabelle, and she was holding what could’ve possibly been her sixth drink. She was giggling, leaning against the counter, and that’s when I noticed a single boy, looking about sixteen, being the only other one in the room with her. He subtly moved his chair closer to her and put his hand on her exposed thigh. And then he started moving the hand up.

“Oi!” I yelled suddenly, causing Isabelle and the boy to whip their heads towards me. Isabelle smiled nonchalantly, clearly too drunk to realise what was happening. The boy, on the other hand, widened his eyes and resembled a deer caught in headlights.

“Oh,” he said, trying to stay relaxed, “Hey mate.” He leaned his elbow on the counter lazily and shot me a smug look. I fumed, “Don’t give me that shit! Why were you feeling up my girlfriend over here?”

“Well, she looked like she could use a bit of action,” the boy smirked at me, and I exploded, “Get away from her!” I bellowed while Isabelle turned her head from me to the boy, too drunk to comprehend. “Harry?” she giggled, “What’s wrong? He was being so nice.”

“He was trying to get into your pants,” I said through clenched teeth, and I glared at the boy. He held up his hands and slid off of his stool, “Alright, alright mate, you can have her. She’ll come running back to me anyways.”

I snapped. I don’t know how I suddenly got so close, but my hand abruptly lashed out, grabbing his collar, and I drew my fist back and punched him square in the face. He fell to the floor, completely knocked out. Isabelle gasped, “Harry!” she scolded like a mother, “That was not nice!”

“Whatever,” I muttered, and I grabbed her wrist and yanked her out of the kitchen, leading her through the mess of grinders on the dance floor, searching for Gemma. I finally found her, and she was also drunk out of her mind. Shit.

“Haz!” she yelled, smiling, and I could tell that soon, her knees would buckle and she’d pass out. “Hey,” I said, and then I grabbed her around the waist and slung her over my shoulder.

She screamed for a second and pounded on my back, but I kept on going, trying to get out of the damn house. Finally, I found the front entrance, set Gem down on her feet and grabbed her wrist, now lugging her and Isabelle towards our parked car.

I fished the keys out of my jean pocket and unlocked it, opening the back door and throwing Gemma in. “Hey!” she shrieked, but I slammed the door in her face, and then, more gently, guided Isabelle into the front seat. She slid into the vehicle, giggling madly, and I rounded the car and slid in, revving the engine and speeding down the road.

The drive was…indescribable. Gemma had passed out in the back seat. Isabelle was just rambling off random topics in her drunken state, and I kept my white knuckles on the steering wheel, staring straight ahead coldly. Once we arrived at home, I quickly ushered my girlfriend out of the car, leaving Gemma there. It wouldn’t be the first time.

My mum was out, so I tugged Isabelle towards my room, fuming. Once we stumbled in, I closed the door, locking it, even though there was nobody home. Isabelle shrieked in delight and began to fumble with her shoes, “Ooh, are we going to have sex?”

Dear God I wanted to. But I couldn’t. “No,” I said, gritting my teeth. I wasn’t mad at Isabelle; I was mad at that prick who’d tried to make a move on her. She seemed to have gotten the wrong message though, because her face fell. She looked up at me and whispered, “Harry? Did I do something wrong?”

Immediately feeling bad, I stepped closer to her and took her hands in mine, “No,” I said, a little more gently, “No love, of course not. I’m just…a little stressed, that’s all.”

“Okay,” she smiled childishly and let out a small laugh. I smiled at her and then reached for the back of her dress, “Now come on. Let’s get you ready for bed.”

“Nooo,” she whined, and I chuckled, “Yes.” I quickly unzipped her and helped her shimmy her dress down her body, marvelling at how gorgeous and fit she was. It was the first time that I’d seen her in only her underwear. Well, that and her high heeled pumps, which she was still wearing. My mouth went dry, blood rushed to my crotch and I finally pried my eyes away after many failed attempts.

She stepped out of her dress and took off her shoes, and then proceeding to reach for the clasp of her bra, but I grabbed both her wrists. “No!” I practically yelled, afraid that if I let her, I wouldn’t be able to control myself, “No,” I said, lowering my voice, and I led her into the bathroom, where I helped her to brush her teeth and take off her makeup. Her hair stayed tied up in a stiff bundle of hairspray, but that would have to do for now.

I tried not to ogle her body as she turned back to me, smiling cheekily. Oh, how I wanted to kiss her right now, but I held back, not wanting our first time to be a time that she didn’t remember, like our first kiss.

She began advancing on me, but I quickly took her hand and led her into my room, helping her slide under the covers. I lifted them up to her chin and brushed a single wisp of hair out of her eyes, “Goodnight love.”

“Mm,” she mumbled, “Goodnight Harry.” I smiled slightly and turned back to the washroom, deciding that I should also get ready to sleep. I went back into the loo, stripping out of my jeans and shirt, and just deciding to screw it and sleep in my boxers. I applied toothpaste onto the bristles of my toothbrush and commenced brushing my teeth. When I finished, I leaned down to spit in the sink, momentarily taking my eyes off of the mirror in front of me. I felt a pair of arms snake around my waist.

“Harry,” Isabelle whined, “I can’t sleep.”

I chuckled, “I bet you didn’t even try.”

“Nuh uh!” she pouted, and I almost laughed at how much she resembled a three year old. I turned around, about to tell her to go to bed, but then I felt her lips press against mine roughly. Even though she’d brushed her teeth, she still tasted like alcohol. I was about to tell her to stop, but then her hands brushed the waistband of my boxers, and all of my common sense flew out of the window. I tangled my hands in her hair and pushed her mouth harder against mine. She moaned and eased her leg in between mine, and my brain buzzed.

"I know you want me," she moved her mouth to my ear and whispered seductively, biting hard on my earlobe. I groaned, pushing her up against the bathroom door while she let out a high pitched moan.

"Yes Harry!" She screamed while I grinded my hips into hers. She continued to scream out things that I'd never imagined coming out of her mouth, "Fuck me senseless! Lets go!" I was only getting more turned on hearing the words slip out of her innocent mouth.

"Dammit Belle," I managed to grunt out, now full on humping her. I was rock hard, my teeth digging into my lip. She moaned, "Please...just take me here!" I wanted to, but I couldn't. Not while she was piss drunk. But I needed some sort of release, so I set her down, my hand immediately finding her panties.

Fuck she was dripping. She moaned when my fingers rubbed her over the fabric. I didnt want to delve further into this, so I just continued to rub her over the thin material. She reached out and began rubbing my member through my boxers, wishing that I could take things to the next level, but I knew I couldn't.

"Mm," she threw her head back and moaned loudly, and it took everything I had not to cum on the spot, "H-Harry," she stuttered, "I'm...gonna..."

"I know baby, I know," I groaned, closing my eyes while I dry-humped her, "Let go."

She did, groaning, and I followed suit, squirting into my boxers. When we had calmed down, she came at me for more.

Stop, a voice in my head said, this isn’t right. You’re taking advantage of her.

I suddenly pulled back, realising that the voice was right. I shouldn’t be doing this. I didn’t want things to escalate. I didn’t want to take advantage of her. She pulled back; her lips puckered in a pout, and then crossed her arms over her nearly naked chest. Don’t stare, I reminded myself, just as she spoke, “I don’t get it Harry. Do you not like me?”

I shook my head, “Of course I like you love. I wouldn’t be your boyfriend if that weren’t the case.” She stomped her foot, “Then why won’t you have sex with me?” I shrugged, feeling awkward, “I don’t know. I guess it’s because I know you don’t want that right now. I don’t want it to happen while you’re stoned out of your mind.”

“I’m not stoned,” she giggled, and then her knees gave out. She fell, squealing, and I was just able to catch her. I cradled her almost-naked body in my arms and walked back into my bedroom, making my way to the bed. She giggled, completely forgetting the conversation.

“You know,” she said, “I have this weird feeling in my stomach.”

“Are you going to puke?” I asked suddenly. She tittered again and shook her head, slapping my arm sloppily, “No silly. I mean whenever I’m around you. I get all tingly, and my palms get sweaty, and I get really nervous. And you know why?” she suddenly stared at her fingers as if they’d become the most interesting things in the world.

I cleared my throat, waiting for her answer, “Why?” I asked, and she snapped back up to me, “Oh yeah! Well, it’s because I love you! Isn’t that weird?” she giggled. I, on the other hand, almost dropped her. She squealed as my grip dipped slightly, but I managed to keep it sort of steady.

I brought her back to the bed and once again helped her under the covers, once again pulling them back up to her chin. She sighed and looked up at me; my eyes were still wide with shock. “Well?” she asked, “Aren’t you going to say that you love me too? I mean, it’s kind of awkward if I say it and you don’t. I mean, honestly, what relationships do that? Speaking of that, I saw these two people making out at the party and—,” I cut her off by kissing her softly. I pulled back and said huskily, “Just go to sleep, m-kay love?”

“Okay,” she grinned at me and closed her eyes. I got into the bed beside her and wrapped an arm around her waist, trailing my fingers over her bare, toned, flat stomach. Nuzzling my face in her neck, I hummed and she sighed lightly. “Good night, Harry,” she whispered drunkenly, “I love you.”

I froze. Something about her saying it again had just made it seem more legit. Was this a drunken thought? Or was it something that she’d actually given some thought to? I’d only known her for three weeks and a bit, but I already felt insanely close to her. Did she feel the same way? I’d once read that things you say when you’re drunk are thoughts you think when you’re sober. So…?

“Goodnight love,” I murmured in her ear. I closed my eyes before adding quietly, “I love you too.”

Notes

I just managed to squeeze in this extra-long update! I'm so pressed for time, so I'll try and update on the weekend! You are all so amazing and supportive!

That awkward moment when you trip in the halls at school...

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