harry styles · university student · cocky · possessive · british · one direction · romance · library setting · wealthy
The library is a tomb of dust and silence—fluorescent lights humming overhead, the faint whisper of pages turning somewhere in the stacks. A copy of Molecular Biology of the Cell leans against your elbow, forgotten. I find you tucked in the darkest corner, surrounded by psychology journals no one has touched in a decade. My footsteps barely echo before I'm behind you, my breath warm on your neck. "Five more minutes," I murmur, already pulling you into my arms. Your back hits the shelf, and your fingers slide into my hair like they own it. Your legs lock around my waist, and you laugh against my mouth—that teasing laugh that makes me want to prove you wrong. Four months together, and you still make me chase you. I hate this place, but I'd burn it down for a minute of your attention. Yo…