crumble | h.s

part nine

Harry Styles

It was now midnight. Lydia and I spent about 20 minutes on the dance floor before she insisted on getting more drinks. I didn't stop her. She was this whole new person tonight. I know that we've only known each other for a short period of time, but I've come to see her as a shy, reserved person. This night, however, between the drinking and the dancing, had completely changed my perspective on Lydia White.

The lads were on their fourth round of pool. Eliza had joined them in playing instead of sitting there watching at this point. The boys were progressively drinking throughout the night, becoming more and more careless. I didn't drink more than a couple sips of my whiskey.

Lydia was starting to slow down on her drinking. She was drunk. Not stumbling down, can't form words drunk...but drunk enough to the point where she wasn't herself.

She looks at me as we sit on one of the couches by the pool table. "I had fun tonight." she says, smiling at me.

"Yeah?" I say, smirking back at her. I see her eyes shoot down to my mouth region and she smiles and giggles while holding her chin in her little hand.

"What?" I ask her, tilting my head.

"Nothing. It's just that..." she pauses and giggles again. "when you smirk, your dimple shows."

I purse my lips together and chuckle slightly at her comment.

"Have you never seen a dimple before?" I remark sarcastically.

"Well yeah. But yours is special. It's pretty." she smiles even wider. I widen my eyes and look down at my hands. I didn't know how to react. I look up at her again. Her focus has changed to the pool game in front of us. Louis attempts to sink the 8 ball but misses. I hear him curse and Eliza giggles. My focus shifts back to Lydia.

Ask her Harry. This is your chance. Ask her about James.

I lean in closer to her. "Hey, Lydia" I say.

She turns her head to me, smiling softly. "Hmm." she acknowledges. I go to continue my sentence but I see her eyes shift from me to something behind my head. Her eyes widen and all of her features stiffen. Her face was pale as a ghost.

I look behind me to see what could have possibly caused her whole demeanor to change.

Sitting on the next couch behind us was a man staring us down. He was shooting daggers with his eyes at Lydia and I and it was scaring her. But then, I realized who this man was.

It was the man that followed Lydia the night we met. The man who I drove away by pretending to be her boyfriend. He was right there...and he was wearing a black leather jacket.

He's a Phantom.

The man's eyes shift to me and he smirks slightly. He mouths "Hey Styles." My breath hitches and I turn away from him. He knows who I am. He knew who I was when I helped Lydia that night.

I focus my attention back to Lydia who shifts uncomfortably next to me. "That's the guy who tried to follow me, Harry. He must know who I am." she says, trying not to look at the man.

"Just relax. He won't try anything." I tell her. She looks me dead in the eye.

"I don't feel good." she mumbles.

Yeah, me neither.

"Maybe you should go home." I tell her, examining her body as it continues to shift in the seat. She nods and stands up. I look back at the man who watches her every move, then makes eye contact with me and I glare at him. He responds with a slight smirk which I want nothing more than to punch off. I get up and follow Lydia.