Strings Attached (Harry Styles FanFiction)

21. Seal It With a Kiss

Cassie's POV:

 "Harry," I groaned, doing my best to dry my sopping hair with a towel as I padded out of the master bath, "where's my shirt?" He'd been snagging my clothes all week; it didn't matter where I hid them while I showered, he always managed to sneak in and take them. I'd been lucky the majority of the time, finding one of his old t-shirts or button downs in the hamper, but today, apparently, was laundry day. 

 He lay lounging in the large bed, exactly the same way that I'd left him ten minutes ago, my oversized sea foam t-shirt dangling from his long fingers, "Give it back," I huffed, adjusting the strap of my bra as it slipped down my shoulder.

 "Hmmm, I actually think I like you better this way. I might have to hang on to it." I glared at him. He flashed me that same dazzling, fox smile that got me into this whole mess in the first place, jade eyes raking over my exposed chest. I squirmed under his careful examination, thankful I'd at least managed to hold on to my jeans.

 "Styles, I'm serious. I have to go to class."

 "It's a weekend, Angel."

 "I told my professor I'd come in and work on my figure studies. This torture device keeps getting in the way," I grumbled, picking at the pink cement coating my right wrist.

 "You can go in later," he hummed, languidly rising from the bed. I backed up against the door as he stalked towards me, his lean frame towering over me. One large hand came up to cup my cheek, the pad of his thumb tracing the line of my lips which parted under his touch.

Sucking in a sharp breath, I glared at him, locking down my emotions, refusing to let him win yet again. Ducking under his arm, I headed over to the large chest of drawers a few feet away, rummaging around until I found something that wouldn't completely swallow me. He watched me as I slipped the beaten Rolling Stones tee over my head, still holding my shirt captive. 

 He had refused to leave me alone all week. The one night I'd been allowed to stay alone in my flat, he'd shown up at the ass crack of dawn the next morning to "make sure I was okay". I knew that I should have been annoyed by his clingy and possessive tendencies, but, frankly, I enjoyed them. He made me feel safe and waking up next to him every morning was just icing on top of a glorious, sculpted, abdominal muscle cake. 

 Taking a deep breath, I turned towards the mirror, doing my best to keep my eyes from wandering down the panes of his bare chest as I pulled my fingers through the damp tangles in my long hair; it would dry straight but the knots would bother me later. I really needed to go back to my flat. Staying here with him was nice and all, but he was a guy and his taste in products sucked. My hair was pissed at me.

 I pushed past him, opening the door to his room and padding down the hall. I didn't make it ten feet before strong arms snaked around my waist, lifting me up and turning me around, carrying me back towards his bed.

 "Put me down," I said, poking his chest.

 "You're not leaving, Angel."

 "I need to go back to my flat."

 "Why?"

 "I'm hungry, I've been in the same clothes for two days, I need a real brush, and I want to actually sleep in my own bed."

 "You don't like sleeping with me?" He cooed, nuzzling his face into my neck as he sat us down in his California King, cradling me in his arms.

 "Yes-, I mean no-, I mean... Harry I need my stuff."

 "I'll have Ni go over and get what you need," he shrugged, pressing a soft kiss against my nose.

 "You can't just send other people to do your dirty work, Styles."