DIFFERENT [hs] |Complete|

Twenty-Three

Cass.

When I had woken hours later; realising that it was past six in the morning, I came to the conclusion that Harry hadn't stayed. After calling his name a few times and being replied with pure silence I figured that he wasn't here. But something I did notice was the Opal necklace; it was right besides my pillow, resting beautifully with the simple gemstone and black chain with stunning intricate patterns that continued their way until it reached the stone, where it ended.

After a good rest I no longer felt like I was deprived of sleep, but peculiarly still felt tired. The thought of leaving my bed sounded absurd but I pushed myself until I was forcefully standing at the edge of my bed.

I walked into the hall hoping to clean the mess Harry and I made last night, but found that everything had been already cleaned. A single sheet of white lay folded on the coffee table, immediately recognising it as a note. I hastily snatched it from the table, unfolding it three times before setting my eyes on his neat yet scribbled handwriting.

It took me bloody ages to find where you kept your spare papers. I found a notebook in the kitchen after stubbing my toe a few times, so I thought I would just start by saying that's your fault.

I scowled at the paper with a grin, reading on.

Cass rhymes with ass. Just kidding, (well it does but anyway).
I want to thank you for dinner, it was great but my stomach is feeling a little squeamish now, again... your fault. But besides that, thanks for everything. Knowing you for over three months has made me a happy guy (Jesus Christ now I'm all sappy), but just, thanks?

The necklace is yours now, and my very accomplishable threat remains. Don't sell it, don't give it to anybody, it's for you. But you can't wear it, and I'll briefly explain because this stupid pen is running out of ink. Legend says owning an opalus (which stands for opal in latin—I know I'm a genius) is a curse, ONLY if it's from the natural source. The stone is real but it has been tampered, if you wear it it's bad luck, but you can have it with you. It's said to protect you. Just don't lose it!

Harry x

P.S: I've never seen somebody drool like you do.
P.P.S: And somebody who farts in their sleep too.
P.P.P.S: Just kidding.

I laughed softly, slumping on the couch with the note in my hand. He thinks he's hilarious, and his cocky demeanour just intensifies everything—but in the best way possible. Life with Harry leaves no room for boredom, and I like that.

His friendship means so much to me that I don't want to risk losing it to anything. We've led ourselves into dangerous paths, our insatiable desires for one another isn't replenishing our cravings. Simple gestures like kissing does little to decrease the tension, but once the kissing leads to more, then that desire increases which makes us in need to 'quench our thirst'.

Yet, I will not allow myself to risk something so treasureable for a short moment with Harry. As amazing as he is, I won't give in to the little voice in my head that's begging me to tear his clothes off and completely ravish every single inch of him. Though I resist the temptation, every time he shoots me a smile I melt. He's so irresistible. I don't think he knows it.

Harry Styles is so damn tempting and confusing all at the same time that I don't know whether I want to kill or kiss the guy.

Harry.

"And you're beginning to mark?" Niall asks.

"Yeah, it's starting to form. It itches like hell though; I dunno how you dealt with it. I'm scared I'll literally graze it off."