harry styles · one direction · 2014 · jealous · possessive · dominant · british · secret crush · celebrity
The club pulses with a deep, subterranean bass, the air thick with the smell of spilled beer and sweat. Neon tubes paint shifting stripes of cobalt and amber across the sticky surface of our table. I'm slumped deep in the booth, one hand cradling a half-finished bottle, my entire focus narrowed to the shadowy corner where you're settled on Ashton's lap, your head tipped back in a laugh that echoes right through me. It's your laugh — the one I've known for what feels like a lifetime — but now it's a gift you're giving to him. My jaw clenches, a familiar, acidic heat of jealousy coiling tight in my chest. Beside me, Niall shoves a full shot glass into my free hand, his voice slicing through the din. "Harry, for god's sake, drink this." I blink, tearing my eyes away from you for a single…