Dollhouse (h.s)

Sixteen.

I turned the heat of the stove down, wiped my hands and slowly made my way to the front door. Looking through peep hole my blood ran cold. Why was he here? I'd been happy as I'd not seen him the entire day. Backing away from the door, I drowned in thoughts once again. I was paralyzed, had no idea of what to do.

"I know you're in there, Bella." I heard his voice from the other side of the door. Sighing in defeat, I unlocked the door only to meet a pair of piercing eyes staring at me.

"Can I help you?" I asked miserably, not actually meaning my offer.

"Depends..." He mumbled, trying to walk past me, into my home. I quickly put a hand on his chest, stopping him. My actions surprised me, my hand resting right on his heart. I felt the steady beat from it as well as the warmth radiating off his skin through the thin material of his white shirt.

"Why so cold?" He simply asked though his usual cheeky undertone was missing from his voice. He wore a hint of a frown, towering over.

"You're not welcome into my home." I scoffed, putting more pressure on my hand to keep back. He was already closer than I wanted him to be.  "My mother told me to never let strangers into the house."

"Well, I'm hardly a stranger."

"Yes, you are. And I don't know what makes you think that you're not." I tried my best at hiding the frustration that was slowly growing within me. Plus, I needed to tend to my poor vegetables that were probably burning at this point.

"I think we both know what makes me know that." Styles was completely serious though I could feel just how badly he wanted to smirk.

"Good bye!" I sarcastically smiled, slamming the door in his face. Turning around, I walked back to the kitchen. Luckily, my vegetables were fine but I was not as I heard the front door open. Not long after Styles appeared in the door way of my kitchen. I thought I was practically explode with anger.

"Uhm, excuse me?!" I almost shouted as I saw him in my house.

"Yeah, you are excused for slamming that door in my face." And there was that smirk, I thought as he sat down at the kitchen table. Rolling my eyes, I opened a drawer by the stove serving up my vegetables, adding some quinoa. Grabbing a knife and fork, I sat down opposite Styles.

"Can you please just get out of my house?" I huffed, picking up my phone to avoid eye contact with the intruder sat at my dinner table.

"I'm good." I didn't even have to look at him to know he was wearing some kind of smug expression.

"Harry, I'm serious." Putting my phone down I looked at him to see his reaction. His face immediately changed at the mention of his first name.

"Don't call me that." He sternly ordered, staring harshly into my eyes as if to intimidate me.

"You're in my house, I do whatever the fuck I want." I retaliated. It probably wasn't the best idea seeing as Styles could easily murder me though I highly doubted he'd do so in my own home.

"You're really hard to understand..." He stated out of the blue, leaning back in his chair.

"So, I guess you're staying," I sighed and he looked content with winning. "Harry." I finished my sentence and he gave me another dirty look.

"Don't test me." He sulked and I couldn't help but smile. I felt like I had a little bit of an upper hand as I knew how to annoy him so easily. "It's not funny."

"It kind of is." I forked some more vegetables up and I saw him eye my food.

"What the fuck are you eating?" He grimaced, leaning forward to examine what was on my plate. Nice change of subject, I thought to myself, as he blatantly didn't want to go near his first name again.