Chiller (harry styles)

17: White Rain Intruder

It has begun to drizzle.
Within seconds, the night turns from a dark shadow to a canvas of white rain. It sticks to the window like runny paint, and the curly haired boy clinging desperately to the skylight bangs his hand against the surface of the glass, and madly, and I lift the window sill up and reach out to pull him inside. He ignores my efforts, and suddenly a titanic, gloomy shape is quivering erratically on the other side of the glass, lurching toward me like it is going to smash right through. I stagger back, terrified that he may hurt me by accident, my throat closing around a scream. And then he hits my bedroom floor like a silent cannon, a familiar, husky voice calling to me from inside the darkness.

"Tahlia!" He groans.

His body lays crumpled in a dark heap before me, and for a second I hesitate. I have the sudden urge to run into his arms, to kiss his cheek, and proclaim to him how terror ate at me that he might have been in mortal danger, but I cannot bring myself to do it. I need to step back and look at the bigger picture.

This boy is trouble. Whatever mess with this mirror and these gangsters he has gotten into has me dragged into the drama as well, and I don't wish to be a part of it.

But more than that makes me fear the possibility that I might like him.

It seems, as I recall it from memory, being alone with Harry frightens me, but not being with him frightens me more.

I shake my head of my thoughts and look back down at him.

He doesn't seem hurt, to be honest, but I don't take any chances.

I bend down to his side, and through the dimly lite light the clouds give me, place my hand gently on his shoulder, and attempt to soothe him.

"Are you okay?" I whisper.

He smirks, his dimples showing like a beacon on the bay.

"Yes, thanks for asking. Maybe next time I crash through your window you'll set up a nice little comforter or trampoline to soften the blow. I'm sure you could afford it."

I try to smile.

"Damn it. I thought you were just gonna leave me out there after I drove all the way here to see you in the midnight hours.." He complains.

I shake my head at the insanity of his naked and obviously raw truth.

Without thinking, my hand tenderly touches the curls flipping out of his bandana.

"You're crazy." I tell him. "You know that, right?"

He sighs happily, and moves from under my touch to stand to his feet.

"Well, as true as you seem to believe that is, the cause of my visit has absolutly nothing to do with the status of my mental tendacies." He says in his usual sarcastic tone.

I raise an eyebrow, trying very hard to stifle my giggle.

"Tendencies? You're crazy, and that's the beginning and end of everything."

"Anyway," He says, waving his hand as if to move time along. "The point is, baby, that I dropped in to see if you were okay. Louis called me while I was on my way here about you passing out because of those idiots. It's all my fault you got tumbled into this mess. So, are you? Are you okay?"

His eyes are are soft and beautifully green, like the dewy grass of a meadow on a spring's dawn.

His hand touches my cheek and I feel the heat rising inside me.

"I am now." I assure him, placing my hand over his. "Are you going to explain to me what happened?"

Harry takes a deep breathe, nods, then goes to sit on my bed. The sight of him in such an intimate area makes my heart rate quicken, but I choose to ignore it and focus on the matter at hand.