Love to Hate You (A Harry Styles Love Story)

Chapter 12 - Such A Girl

A/N: Hey, so I know this isn't the most fabulous chapter ever, but I just really wanted to update something. I just haven't been feeling that proud of my writing lately and Wattpad is such a downer with all of those amazing writers who are just amazing and I wish I could just magically have their amazingness, too. It's just plain depressing. But, hey.. Se la vie, guys. xx

- Autumn's Point of View -

“Let’s start!” he cheered, combing his hair back with his fingers.

 He looked down at the list in his hands, licking his lips absentmindedly. His eyes looked greener today than they usually did, glinting as the sun got in his eyes. I liked it.

 “Number one is...” he paused, smirking at me, “tree-climbing.”

 I frowned, wondering as to why I had had the ability and choice of picking what we were going to do today and actually circled something that I was terrified of.. I guess I had been caught up in the moment at the time. I hate heights. Just the thought of them scares me. What if you look down? What if you fall? You could die!

 “If you were my friend, Harry, you wouldn’t make me do this,” I said as he led me to the backyard, where his annoying scumbag of a brain remembered that we have a giant oak tree, just waiting for two British teenagers to climb it and take photo evidence.

 “Sadly, I’m not your friend, so,” he pushed me toward the direction of the tree, “Climb it!”

 “Unless,” he had a sly smile on his face as I turned over to him and quite literally gulped like in those movies, “you’d rather climb me?”

 My eyes widened at his comment that I should have seen coming, “Ew, no!” 

 I turned toward the tree whose trunk was too thick for me to wrap my arms around entirely. I grabbed hold of a branch that had been sticking out about four inches above me and jumped a little to get my other arm on it. I was swinging three inches above ground and still refused to look down.

 “Do I have to?” I asked one last time, my mouth twisting uncomfortably as the branch scratched my palms.

 He made a noise, signaling yes. I groaned and attempted to swing my foot over onto the branch but, what a surprise, I’m not as skilled as Katniss Everdeen in the fine art that is tree climbing, so it’s safe to say that I’d be the first to die if I were in the Hunger Games.

 “Do you need some help?” he muffled a laugh, as I swung from side to side on the branch.

 “I’m fine.”

 I furrowed my brows and tried swinging the other way onto the branch that was currently holding my weight. This didn’t seem as good of an idea as it had seemed to be just a minute ago.

 “You need a boost?” he walked toward my swinging form, in which I attempted to kick him, but instead hit air. Muttering, I glared at the tree trunk.

 “Is that a yes?” he asked, reaching out to grab me.

 “You only want to help so you can touch my butt, Harry.”

 He let out a guffaw, causing some birds to fly away in alarm from a tree nearby.

 “I’m not hiding my intentions, Miss Pierce,” he said, making hand movements to the skies. “If you were to ask me as to why I was helping you, I would no doubt tell you that I would very much enjoy touching your butt.”

 “Harry,” I was almost out of breath from swinging so much and not really getting anywhere, “I sometimes wonder why millions of girls like you.”