Ambition || Harry Styles

*23*

The conversation is awkward, tensions high as Harry masterminds his way out of every question Katie throws at him, his patience clearly starting to waver from the interrogation he definitely didn't expect tonight.

She asks vague questions about the time we are spending together, his work and friends, what he likes doing on the weekend and throws in the odd question about my father mentoring him.

He runs a hand through his hair and fires back with questions of his own, trying to deflect any real conversation and it is so obvious what is going on that I'm wishing a little more with each passing second that we didn't come to this party.

As the weird back and forth plays out in front of me, I try and distract myself with the memory of how his hands felt against my skin for that brief moment and how I can indulge in it again soon.

Liam is being a team player, running back and forth with drinks to help with Katie's pursuit and not give anyone a chance to break the uncomfortable conversation with the predictable excuse of refilling a glass.

I, in turn, am getting drunker by default, throwing back the gin like it might be some sort of magic escape portal to getting me out of this situation.

The four of us have somehow managed to nestle ourselves in a corner, Katie propping herself up onto the armrest of a sofa, Liam standing close by as they work together to try and uncover the man who is still putting in the effort and speaking to them for some reason.

Katie words are starting to slur and just as a new song starts she is jumping up, proclaiming it's her favourite and dragging Liam onto the makeshift dance floor with her.

I laugh at their expense as he spins her around, entertained by his ballroom dancing skills and that he is enough of a goof to pull out his classical moves to a hip-hop anthem.

"Jesus, those two are something else," Harry breathes out as he faces me, having had enough of the two wingmen I never asked for.

"They mean well," I counter and he bites the side of his lips as I take another swig of my drink.

His hand reaches up to guide my glass down from my lips but I'm too distracted by his fingers pinching the exposed skin of my waist as he purrs into my ear, almost protectively, "Careful, baby. This stuff is strong."

Green eyes search my soul, his body so close to mine and this dark corner the perfect place for getting into trouble.

"Haz! Nice of you to introduce your friend," a brash voice bellows with an Irish accent beside us and Harry uncharacteristically looks sheepish as he takes a careful step back and looks at the tops of his boots.

The blond man who has approached us slaps a hand on Harry's back and although this guy has a massive grin on his face, Harry looks anything but delighted about his company.

"Alexa this is Niall, we... work together," he hesitates but Niall doesn't, pushing obnoxiously between us and holding a hand out.

"Great to meet you, I've heard a lot about you from Harry here. But don't tell him I told you that."

I hear Harry grunt in disapproval at Niall's indiscretion and sense of humour and my alcohol clouded mind finds it too amusing.

"And she thinks I'm funny!" Niall proclaims.

My stomach drops as Harry quickly makes an excuse to leave, mumbling about a bathroom and the moment he disappears I am stuck daydreaming about his touch and wondering where he is, while I smile and nod at whatever the fuck Niall is talking about.

I despise small talk and Niall is giving it to me in droves, forced to ask a million questions when I give him almost nothing back. My eyes search for Harry, or at this point, even my annoyingly pushy friends to save me.