Temptations

After I was dropped off by De's mom and stepped near my home I finally began to chillax. I unlocked the door, walked inside the house and realized it was empty. Dad wasn't kidding about working late. Normally he's home around this time. Maybe it was an emergency. I shrugged when I didn't see a note and walked up the stairs; the sound of my feet hitting the carpeted stairs was louder than anything as I went up to my room. I got a couple of texts from De asking what happened to me after the impromptu food fight.

I sent her a text back saying I didn't get caught and that was it. I debated for a second whether to tell her about Harry. The truth is I didn't know. He could be a fluke, or even a floozy. I don't know what's happening between us, I don't know if I should think of it anymore either.

Good god, Harry. Why is he so fucking unavoidable? I can't say no to him. I'm starting to think this is what he does. Ugh, here I go again. I'm probably one of his many bitches in a sea of whore delicatessens. But why was he kissing me the way he was? Almost like he knew me, knew exactly what I liked. Who I am.

Damn him for making me want more of him. Ugh, fuck him.

Then there's Louis, I feel like he really digs me. Why would he constantly find ways to be around me today? So did Harry. That asshole. Louis wins, he doesn't confuse me.

Harry scares me. I mean he is an asshole, cocky, confident and practically got me wrapped around his finger. Damn it. He doesn't mean anything to me. I just met the dick.

Is he? He wasn't really forcing anything on me. In fact I started it. Fuck. He knew what he was doing.

I collapsed on my bed, blowing my hair out of my eyes. Why can't I stop thinking about Harry? His smell, his voice, his face, all of him. His washboard chest practically pressed against mine, making my nipples at a standstill. My hands flowed and touched my body, my curves until they reached my legs.

I peeled myself off the bed and got undressed. I kept imagining Harry's hands replacing mine removing the articles of clothing slowly. God damn it. What can't these flashes go away? I really don't know this guy. He doesn't know me. Shouldn't it just end there?

I looked up and noticed my window was still open. No wonder it was so chilly in here. I grabbed my silk bath robe, the one I feel weird wearing around my dad. I think it might make me look too sexy for my age. I developed later than most girls. I sense my dad wants to keep me his little girl for as long as he can. I tightened the knot on the robe and walked to go shut the window.

I reached up and saw the neighbors next door with their lights on. It must have been the new neighbors from this morning. The moving truck was still parked where the mailbox was and there were two, actually three cars ahead of it. I noticed the silver Honda parked behind the two dark ones and thought that reminds me of dad's used car. Could be just a coincidence. I shrugged sighing as I reached again to pull down the window. This reminded me of my locker, aka the fucker that won't budge. The house was old but not fossilized.

I was annoyed. I pulled all of my body weight up and finally got it loose. I was about to close it when I saw a figure walk out the back entrance of the new neighbor's place.

It was a boy, wearing a dark beanie, taking out a cigarette with his mouth, lighting it up with his other hand. He gave a strong puff and turned his face around him. It was like he was checking if he was alone. All I could really make out was his head which was covered and face buried in the darkness. He looked bad, dangerous and in deep thought. It had to have been bad thoughts for him to smoking. When my dad sneaks a smoke I snatch it from his mouth and stomp on it hard in front of him. I know why he does it too.

But this guy, I just watched him, wondering what he was going to do next. It looked like he had an itch near his eye and rubbed at the corner quickly. Was he upset? I haven't been around a lot of guys when they are vulnerable but I know most of them when they're alone and think no one is watching cry. Oh god, I have to be reading way too much into this. But, I can't help but feel empathetic. I hate seeing people cry and be weak. It's uncomfortable and I never know how to react. Do I cry with them? Hug? Just listen? My dad used to cry often when it was Christmas or my mother's birthday.

The chilly air hit my arms suddenly, bringing me back. I can't stand to look at this anymore. Maybe this guy had a secret he didn't want anyone to know. Maybe he just found out.

Maybe Harry Styles had a secret he didn't want me to know. Perhaps it's true since I don't know a god damn thing about the horny bastard.

I found myself watching this guy. Why? He was probably just like any other guy out there. Just an average dude; I could never understand boys for the life of me. Maybe Harry was like one of those guys. Someone I'll never fully know. He'll use me until I fall for him and drop me like a rag when I confess to it.

Well hell no. Harry may be that guy exactly and I'm wasting my time.

It's only day one. I feel like I should be committed in the asylum after all these theories. Who is the real Harry Styles? I may never know.

"Harry, come inside sweetheart. Dinner's ready." My head popped into red alert at those words.

My mouth hung open as I saw the boy, er, Harry instantly stub out the near finished cigarette flip off his beanie, ruffling his hair.

He looked down before at the screen door behind him. "Coming Mum."

I knew that desert voice from anywhere.

Harry Styles was my new next door neighbor. I felt my legs go weak and the next moment all I saw was black.

Notes