Crime (h.s. au)

Chapter Thirty Six

Ava

I keep my hair down and I wash my face, ridding myself of the make up. The amount Michael had put on prior to the Christmas party was insane, and then I made him change it. He wasn't all too pleased but I don't like wearing colors outside of neutral tones.

Once my face is washed, I grab my toothbrush and begin to brush my teeth. I hear my doorbell ring and I frown, taking a look at the time. It's midnight and I begin to have suspicion as to who it is. Without minding, I keep brushing my teeth as I walk down the stairs. All the lights are off in the lower level and I take a peek through the peephole on the door. A slight smile toys at my lips and I unlock the door and pull the chain.

Harry takes a look at me and smiles, his hair still in the elaborate curls he had at the party. He's switched his suit for a t-shirt and jeans, a black winter coat on his arms.

"Styles, it's late," I mimic from our encounter a few days ago, his dimples plastered on his cheeks. My words were mumbled by the toothbrush still captive in my mouth and I allow him in.

"Make yourself comfortable. I'll be back," I say, mumbling as I finish brushing my teeth. I walk upstairs and rinse the toothbrush, putting it into the holder.

Harry is sitting on the couch and looks up at me, my body walking to sit beside him on the couch.

"To what do I owe this visit?" I ask, his arm propping up on the back of the couch.

"Just wanted to see you. I was pacing my apartment, debating on if I should actually come over here," he explains, and I pull my legs up to my chest.

"I see," I tell him, his hand lifting up to my face. My eyes watch the action and he brushes the hair behind my ear.

"If you want, I can go," Harry says, playing with the end of my hair.

"No. I want you here," I tell him, his hand moving down. His palm lays flat on my knee and I look back up at him, his eyes watching his hand.

"You want me here?" he smirks, eyes flickering back up at me.

When I had watched him talking to Annabella, something switched for me. I had never known jealousy, but watching him with her gave me a scope of it. My ear was being chewed off by Jacob, who I've always known to have a crush on me, and I couldn't find a way to leave the conversation. Then I witness Harry leave and I took it as an opportunity to get time alone with him.

We both expressed our slight jealousy, but I'm still bothered by the fact. Having these feelings is unlike me, but it seems it's much the same for Harry.

"I do enjoy spending time with you," I reveal, causing him to grin. His hand moves down my thigh and holds it, brushing his thumb against the skin.

His hand is warm, and rough due to calluses. My mind wanders as I take a look at his fingers. The gentle touch they place to my skin almost burns; it's enticing.

"I wanted to be alone with you. After we went back inside, I just had to make mindless conversation with other people. Our conversations aren't like that," he tells me, and I move my hand over his. I start to play with his fingers because I'm not used to this type of touch from another.

I glance back up to him and his eyes look into mine, unsure of what the expression on his face is. It's unreadable; his eyes attentive but his lips are pressed in a line.

"Can I ask you something?" I ask, his head giving me a nod. His thumb continues to circle my thigh.

"What are you feeling right now?" I wonder, his eyes trailing over my legs. I'm wearing a pair of pajama shorts, easily allowing him to look at me. With him, I don't mind.