Ace (HS)

No Control*

The hot steam fanned over his lips as they approached the rim of his mug. His legs were spread out onto the coffee table, ankles crossed, and his back was leaning against the thick leather of the couch. The mug was hot against the palm of his hand but he paid no mind to it, taking a large sip from his tea, letting the liquid burn down the length of his throat. It made his mind warm and relaxed, much different than how chaotic it had been while he was sitting alone in a booth for two hours, waiting and waiting and waiting.

Harry needed this. A moment to forget about the foreign and overwhelming emotions that had seeped into his typically apathetic heart. He needed a moment to let the sweet tea envelope his mind, a soft hum vibrating through his chest. He loved the herbal taste, something he had enjoyed ever since he could remember. Memories of his mother always accompanied it, images of her soft eyes and gentle smile never failing to make his rosy lips curl upward just the slightest.

He missed her. He didn't want to admit it to himself, but it had been years since they talked, even on the phone, and it angered him that she had never took the time to reach out to him since the death of his father. Harry couldn't help but feel like she couldn't stand looking at him anymore, always seeing her husband's emerald eyes and similar features. His mother probably blamed him for what had happened, too. Not that he wasn't to blame, of course, but she hadn't even given him a chance to explain.

Harry really didn't have anyone. Part of it was that he was stubborn. Many times he had stared at the contact names in his phone, wanting to call his mother or sister just to hear their familiar voices once more, but then he would remember that if they wanted to see him, they would do something about it.

Besides, Harry Styles didn't need anyone.

"I'm better off alone," he muttered to himself, withdrawing the cup from his lips and setting it down on the table. How many times would he keep saying that to himself? He didn't know; perhaps he would say it over and over until it came true.

The truth was, Harry hated being alone. That's why he invested in The Wild Things, a club where he could busy his mind with people-watching and poker-playing. He would watch the endless game of chase the men would play, and would always critique their lack of skills when it came to picking up girls. That was something Harry was naturally good at it, with his seductive charm and alluring sense of masculinity; women always seemed to be entranced whenever he was around. He loved it. He loved the way he could prey on their vulnerability. His ego would grow with every stutter that escaped their lips, their eyes wide with desire as they looked at him.

But those women never did anything to fill the emptiness.

That's why Carmen was so different.

Around her, he felt like there was never enough time. She made his fingertips go numb, all of the heat in his body flooding to his heart (and his crotch). She had an enchanting sort of effect on him, somehow being able to make everything seem more appealing to him.

She made life more appealing.

He wanted to please her, to get her anything and everything she desired. Harry wanted to see her smile, revealing her pearly white teeth, and he wanted to be the reason for it. The only reason.

He wanted to kiss her, every goddamn inch of her, from the corner of her ruby red lips to the nearly translucent skin between her hip and pubic bone. He wanted to make her squirm in pleasure as he teased her, his lips hovering just over her sweetness. But even more than that, Harry wanted to care for her. Comfort her.

Love her.

His breath hitched in his throat at the thought, his eyes going wide with the sudden realization. Before he had time to think anymore about it, though, a soft knocking came at the door. Slowly, his heart thudding irregularly, he stood up from the couch, wiping his hand over his face.