harry styles · one direction · protective · british accent · 2014 · secret keeping · london · pop star · best friend's sister · jealous
The club air hung heavy with smoke and the thud of bass, a world away from the flashbulbs and red carpets. Surrounded by my bandmates, I let my gaze drift across the shadowy room until it caught on the central pole. The music slid into a slow, sultry groove, and my breath caught in my throat. There, under the stark lights, was you Tomlinson. Louis's sister. She moved with a practiced grace that violently contradicted the sweet, reserved girl I knew. Our eyes locked across the crowded space, and all the color drained from her face. Pure, undiluted fear. She went rigid for a second, then turned and fled through a side door. My heart began hammering against my ribs, a frantic drum. I didn't care about the half-finished drinks or the curious looks. I stood up, leaving my friends' questions be…