Dark (Harry Styles)

Chapter Fifty-Three

“Let’s go around the back.”

It was obvious he had been here before, guiding me to another entrance hidden from view on first approach. Harry’s body moved in behind mine, encouraging me to the back door of the property.

“No point in knocking, just go in.”

We were greeted with a huge smile, Hayley enveloping me in a hug before addressing Harry.

“I wondered when you two were getting here.” She joked.

The blue of her summer dress complimented her darker skin tone, flaring her brown irises with a smile that reached her eyes.

“Thanks for inviting us.”

“I’m glad you’re here.”

Hayley grabbed at my hand, guiding me through the mass of people to the other side of the kitchen. As always, Harry closely followed behind, his presence shadowing my movement. I had always imagined shadows to feel cold, blocking out the warmth of the sun and perhaps more sinisterly, condemning you to darkness. That was before I met Harry.

“Do you want a drink?” Hayley struggled to make her voice heard.

I nodded with a smile. A hand clamped to my shoulder as Harry leaned over me slightly to reach Hayley’s ear. My endeavour to decipher the mouthed words was unsuccessful. But the significance of the hushed conversation dwindled as Harry parted seconds later.

“Of course not.” She firmly replied.

I had a feeling Harry was educating her in my alcohol tolerance level, and from the small amount she poured into the glass it reaffirmed my suspicions. I didn’t mind though, I had never been a massive drinker.

“Haz, there’s beer over there.”

“I’m driving.”

“One won’t hurt.”

Mental agreement was made as Harry manoeuvred, a little carelessly, around the young people crowding the room. No-one appeared to mind being lightly bumped into, or maybe because they knew it was Harry. No individual would want to initiate an argument by telling him to “watch where you’re going”; no good would come of it.

And thankfully nothing did. A boy Harry obviously knew removed the cap of the bottle, handing it to him with a playful punch to the shoulder; a punch that would have knocked me off balance. But Harry stood solidly returning the greeting and laughing. I scanned the faces, none of them recognisable. Harry sure had a lot of friends for someone supposedly scary as hell.

“Bo, do you want ice?”

I swivelled around to find Hayley holding out my glass with an oblivious smile. The clear alcohol had been topped up with fizzy lemonade, the tiny bubbles flittering to the top. My name was called again and it was only then I become acutely aware of where my eyes had wandered. The unassuming tray of ice cubes on the worktop that had just been retrieved from the freezer.

I held little control as my body reacted to the visual trigger. My skin prickled with the thought, frozen trails across my stomach, my back, my thighs. Contrasting heat flushed to my cheeks, mindlessly scolding myself as sinful images bombarded my imagination of the night before. The proposition of exploring something different; Harry with an ice-cube between his teeth.  Enticing hands were kept at bay, refusing to make contact aside from the occasional unavoidable brush of cool lips. Chilling paths traced down my neck and the curve of my chest as I lay helplessly beneath him. Once melted with the tempting heat of Harry’s mouth and my body, he took a new cube, continuing to torture me with patterns of iced shivers.