Ambition || Harry Styles

*17*

Last time I remember looking at my phone it was close to 4 am.  Harry and I are three unwatched movies, and close to the same amount of bottles of wine, in.  I have had significantly less than him but my lack of stamina caught up with me quickly and right now we both look in fairly messy shape.

Thankfully, he has stopped prying into my lack of a sex life and changed the subject, the conversation twisting and turning around everything from music to art, mixed with a little reminiscing about what sports we played as kids and what we studied at university. 

And still, with all the conversation, I have very little, to no idea, who he really is.

"What would you wish for?" Harry words are slower as he takes a long drag from his cigarette, his eyes hooded under the heavy veil of wine in his bloodstream.

One of my eyes is already closed as I struggle to sit upright and stay awake, one of my legs pulled up into my chest as we sit at the table on the balcony.

I squint a little harder at him trying to work out what he means.

"C'mon Lexi," he whines like a child as he butts out his smoke with difficulty as if his arms are made of lead before leaning on his elbows to get a little closer.  "Like if you could have anything, do anything what would you wish for?"

I may be drunk but the weight of his question is not lost on me. What would I wish for? For my dad to appreciate me? For Adam to have not cheated? For my mum to still be here? Most people would probably jump at the chance to wish for these things but I don't.  I find it really unproductive to look back with regret, like it or not, awful things make us who we are. 

So, would I wish for something good? Something better? Something more?

Even in my state, I know I have been silent for a long time.  Harry is staring at me, his brow furrowed and his hand by his lips, his index finger extended as he waits for my answer and for some reason I feel like it means more than just a silly drunk game.

"I don't know," I say honestly, and I swear I see him exhale a breath, something that looks awfully like disappointment crosses his face.

"You?" I ask back.

"Well, that's flattering, AP," he smirks. 

When the hell did this egotistical Harry creep back in? He has been missing for the majority of the night and suddenly it's as if his eyes are those of a different person.

"I mean what would you wish for?" I say again, slowly so that my word drag out.

I can see in his face that he knows the answer, most people don't ask questions like that without know what they would say in return. It's on the tip of his tongue, his eye darkening and his face serious.

His green eyes gaze into mine, almost searching and the silence and intensity is making my chest hurt.

"I dunno." He looks away and the moment's gone, leaving me confused and a little out of breath.

What the fuck was that?

Harry gets up without another word and walks inside. I push down the pain in my chest and light a cigarette of my own, needing a couple of minutes alone to gather my thoughts.

This guy is driving me completely crazy.  I know I have been out of the dating game a long time but I swear he flirts with me, and what guy spends his Friday night at a girl's house watching DVDs he gave her as a gift yet he doesn't have any interest in? Does he see me as so unattractive that the possibility of it being a mixed signal has not even registered in his mind?  Am I one of the boys to him? Or just a work colleague? A sister?