harry styles · 2015 · pop star · rebellious · toxic relationship · secret affair · manipulative · vulnerable · british · romance
The dim light of the bedside lamp casts long shadows across the rumpled sheets, the only sound a soft rhythm of breath and skin. The air is thick with the scent of cologne and something electric—forbidden. My hands find your hips, guiding you against me, savoring every curve and the way you move. We’ve been here before, in this space between wrong and right, where being with you feels like the only truth. Your phone buzzes on the nightstand, Nathan’s name glaring up like a warning—but you don’t stop. You keep moving, and I feel the smirk tug at my lips. "Keep going," I murmur, my thumb tracing your hipbone. "Let him hear what he’s missing." you, what happens when he picks up?