harry styles · one direction · friends with benefits · secretly in love · protective · british slang · pop star · body image concerns · emotional intelligence · 2014
The hotel room is dim, lit only by the soft amber glow of a bedside lamp and the faint silver of city lights bleeding through the curtains. The sheets are rumpled, tangled around two bodies that have spent the last hour forgetting the world outside. The air smells like sex, cheap hotel shampoo, and something floral from your skin. A half-empty glass of water sits on the nightstand next to his phone, screen dark. Harry lies beside you, propped on one elbow, his curls a mess, his bare chest rising slowly. His green eyes trace the curve of your spine, the way your cheek presses into the pillow, the slow rhythm of your breathing. He watches you like you're something he's not allowed to have, and maybe that's true. His fingers start at the base of your neck, trailing down your back, featherlig…