Guilty Pleasure (A Harry Styles Fan Fiction)

Chapter 20

“Daisy!” I called as I stepped into our dorm and switched on the lights. “Dais, are you here?”

“What’s up, Ray?” She responded, emerging from the bathroom in a robe. Her eyes nearly popped out of her head when she saw Harry standing in the door way. “Harry? What the hell are you doing here? I thought we left you in Mexico.”

“That can be discussed later. More importantly, what are you doing here? What happened with Chris?” I asked. I waited as she rummaged through her closet and went back into the bathroom to change.

“What always happens.” She said simply when she emerged again, this time dressed in the shortest, tightest, and lowest-cut red halter dress that ever existed and a pair of black Louboutins whose height put the Empire State Building to shame. “Chris made me feel like shit about myself then found another girl. So, I’m going to find another boy. I’m sick of waiting around for him.”

“So you’re going to go out dressed like that?” I asked, gesturing to her nearly-naked body.

“Yes, Reina, I am.” Annoyance was clear in Daisy’s voice. “Nearly everyone on this campus knows me as Chris’ girl. But dressed like this, they won’t be able to resist me anyway.”

“I don’t think this is a good idea.” I parented. “Being with another boy is what got you into this mess with Chris. I realize that this happens way too often and it’s unfair that he gets another girl as soon as you guys start fighting, but he told me that he wanted to be exclusive with you. You hooked up with Aaron on Spring Break. It’s understandable, but now? I think you should go talk to him.”

“Fine.” She surrendered. “But I’m going dressed like this just in case.” Daisy left the room, slamming the door behind her. I let out a deep breath and collapsed on to my bed. Harry sat at the foot of the mattress.

“Girl problems,” he chuckled. “It’s so much easier being a guy.”

“I’m sorry you had to witness our mother-rebellious daughter relationship. Daisy’s been having a hard time lately.” I explained.

“With what?” He asked. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Just, life. Boys, school, work.” I shared. “She’s hopelessly in love with Chris but all they do is fight and it’s not healthy for her. She’s constantly being broken and having to put the pieces back together with her tears. I guess that he wants an open relationship, where he can still see other girls, but it kills her. He’s tattered her strength and there’s only so many times that I can play the problem-solver before they need to figure it out on their own. And then there’s school. She’s having a hard time with her grades and she’s been on and off of academic probation since her second semester of freshman year. The only reason she got accepted here is because both of her parents are alumni. And it’s hurting her self-esteem, like she doesn’t know if she could do anything on her own; she feels like someone will always have to help her out. And because of that, she can’t find a job or an internship. She’s in a rough place when it comes to trying to get on her feet.”

“Is that why she dresses like that?” He asked. “I’ve taken a few Psychology classes. People who feel like they have no control usually rebel with the way they act or dress: it’s something that no one can stop.”

I nodded. “She feels like sex-appeal is the only thing she can accomplish without anyone else’s help. You know, her and Chris were engaged for a little while two summers ago. They were high school sweethearts and they picked to go to college together and they figured that there was no point in waiting. Then, one day, she went to the frat house and walked in on him with another girl.”

“You’re kidding.” He said. “Poor Daisy, no wonder she feels like life is kicking her ass. I knew that kid was a piece of shit when he first opened the door. She’s better off with Aaron. I could call him, I know he wanted to pursue her further.”

I shook my head. “No, she’s not. Aaron was merely a fling. I know he’s your friend and he was really nice, but he’s just not for Daisy. If you saw the boys that she’s dated when she wasn’t with Chris then you’d understand why. She needs someone who is grounded, not reckless.”

“Just as you thought I wasn’t for you.” He mumbled. “No wonder you two are best friends. Throw a few tattoos in the mix and you’re better than that.”

“No, Harry, that’s not it.” I defended. “One day you’ll come to fully understand me and why I am the way I am. For right now, all you need to know is that my dad is overprotective and opinionated.”

“I understand. My parents suck, too.” He said with a shrug. I nodded and stood from my bed.

“It’s late and I’m tired, so I’m going to start getting ready for bed. You’re more than welcome to stay the night, though.” I offered.

“I’d love to.” He accepted with a smile. I turned and walked to the bathroom. I peeled my clothes from my body and tossed them and my dirty cardigan into the hamper. I released my hair from the hair-tie and brushed it out. I tied a light pink silk robe around my half-naked body and left the bathroom.

When I made it back into the bedroom area, Harry was sprawled out on my tiny bed in only black boxer-briefs. I let my eyes roam his body. His stomach was defined and covered in swirls of ink, a prominent butterfly standing out from the other designs. His shoulders were broad with small cursive letters dancing on each of them and his chest was muscular and decorated with two birds, one on each of his pectoral muscles. His legs were long and bare of any ink markings. I swallowed hard, choking down the overwhelming sight that was laying before my eyes. Harry was unfairly enticing and completely irresistible.

“I’ll sleep on the floor, don’t worry.” He assured me with a tempting smirk when he noticed that I was back in the room. “And I apologize for the the slight nudity. I hope you don’t mind, I don’t have shorts and I would be ridiculously uncomfortable if I tried to sleep in jeans.”

“No, it’s okay.” My voice was shaky. “I usually only sleep in underwear, too.” His pupils dilated when my words registered and I switched off the lights and laid down. I felt him shift beside me and, before my eyes could even adjust to the darkness, his lips were on mine. His kiss was rough, tongue pushing and hands roaming. Eventually my robe was thrown to the ground and I was thankful for the blackness filling the room and blinding Harry. I could feel his eyes burning into my body, though, and I squirmed with anxiety.

“Harry,” I spoke, my voice hoarse and practically unrecognizable.

“You can trust me, Reina. I promise.” He whispered, answering my question before I even asked it.

Harry pressed his lips back to mine. His lip ring was cool against my mouth and I swiped my tongue over it, earning a grunt and a long drag on my bottom lip. He dipped his head down to kiss my neck as his hands went to my back. His tongue left a trail of goosebumps from my collarbone to my jaw and he moved the straps of my bra from my shoulders, tossing it to the ground to accompany my robe. His hands moved to my bare chest, exploring and squeezing.

“Are you okay?” He breathed. I nodded, gasping for air and unable to speak. I wanted this, I wanted Harry more than I ever thought was possible. His lips on my skin ignited something within me. His body hovering over mine, his small exhales against my throat, and the sweat that lined the endless amounts of exposed skin between us was freedom to me: the freedom that had been absent my entire life.

His strong hands held my waist and he flipped me over to lay on top of him. His mouth found mine again, our lips moving in the most needy rhythm, our tongues gliding against each other. The kiss didn’t part until all of our energy was used up and our bodies were desperate for rest. I clung to Harry’s damp chest as I drifted into sleep.

Harry did not end up sleeping on the floor that night.