RED ROOM [H.S]

31.

Temptation.

It's such a crazy thing, wasn't it? The desire to do something, something that was wrong. Something unwise.

Tell me why I knew the definition of such a word, and yet, I found myself wanting to dive into it, head first, like it was the only thing that would keep me alive.

I didn't know what Harry was doing to me, and I didn't understand the control he had over my body. The temptation to be better than him at his own game last night was a pondering thought, and it took over my body so much so, that I had found myself standing in front of a moving vehicle in order to prove a point. I had stayed up on the balcony last night, eyeing the distance from where I stood to the concrete below, wondering how far I could bend myself over the railing until Harry caved and decided to grab me. The adrenaline I felt was addicting. I wondered if that was the feeling Harry had every time he held a gun in his hand, every time he pushed the idea of death a little bit harder. The games he enjoyed were beginning to feel like my very own favourite pastime, and I hated to admit that I was beginning to grow excited as I waited for the next game to come into play. I told myself that I would win one of them, even if it killed me.

The logical part of my brain knew it sounded pathetic, that I would be willing to die at the hands of a game, but another part of me told me it was okay, because at least I would be the King. I didn't want to be the Queen. As sweet as the words sounded when they fell from Harry's lips, I didn't want it. The Queen still bowed down to the King, and I had hastily decided in my drunken state that I didn't want to bow down to anyone, the King included.

Prove it.

Two words that would of sounded innocent falling from the lips of anyone else, anyone who wasn't Harry fucking Styles. He was taunting me, testing me, challenging me once again. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he wanted me to push his buttons, to ultimately prove that I would betray him. How does one prove that though? I had no idea, and I had the feeling that Harry knew that there wasn't an easy way to do so, and he was going to find pure enjoyment as he showed me how to prove it. My body shook at the thought.

Despite the pounding of my head, and the ache in my bones from the unfortunately long walk last night, my body was reacting in the way that made me want to fall to my knees in front of him. My mind felt like mush as I stared up at him, once again getting my senses swarmed by the intoxicating scent of Harry. It was strange, how I could be so attracted to the fucking smell of another person, and yet, here I was. Wanting to eat it up and breath it in like I was trying to get high. Guess I really was my parents kid, hey.

I swallowed, keeping my gaze locked on Harry as he waited for an answer. His glare grew more heated as the seconds past. It was too bad for him, because I was having trouble connecting my brain to my lips, because the sudden urge to press myself into Harry was intertwining itself into my thoughts.  I blamed it on my hangover for my sudden need for physical touch that made my head swarm with filthy thoughts. I blinked to rid the them, cautious that Harry seemed to read my every movement with great calculation. As the stubborn person I was growing to be, I didn't want to give in so easily. Where's the fun in that?

"How exactly do you want me to prove something like that?" I asked tightly, keeping my chin raised. The word King was a low hum in my ears. "I haven't tried to talk to anyone, I haven't tried to run. I've kept my mouth shut, I think that itself is enough proof."

Harry made a humming noise. "Such a pretty mouth it is," he mumbled softly. His thumb found its way to my bottom lip, brushing against it before he dropped his hand. "But that doesn't mean that I believe what comes out of it."

"Well you should," I whispered, sounding a tad too breathless for my liking. I cleared my throat, before speaking again. "I won't betray you, Harry."