three | get that cigarette out of your (hands)

I still feel him watching me after twenty minutes, and I'm close to calling the police. Who stares at a person for ten minutes, let alone twenty? Looking back at him is not one of my options, because I feel like one look into his eyes will leave me a liquid puddle on the floor.

"You alright?"

I turn to the voice speaking to me, and sigh in relief when I see it's Nameless, from the art gallery. I may not know his name, but I feel better knowing he's around. He's strong, and muscular. Maybe he can punch him if he comes near me. May not look good for him, but saving my ass will put him higher on my radar.

Not that it matters to anyone anyway, because I'm Liam Payne. I work at a law firm, and this trip is the only interesting thing I've ever done.

God, I am such a loser.

"I'm fine," I answer, taking another sip from my glass, "drinking, but just peachy."

"Can I join you?"

I nod, because he'd probably join me either way. He perches himself on a stool next to me, ordering a martini.

"Isn't that a little stereotypical?" I point out, and he turns to me with a smirk etched on his face before he gives me a shoulder shrug.

"If I'm gonna be gay, why not be stereotypically gay?"

He flips his hair playfully and bats his eyes, leaving me in a fit of laugher. I happily rationalize his response, nodding as the bartender places the martini he ordered in front of him.

"Why are you here?" I ask him, and he snorts before replying,

"What? I'm not allowed to go to my favorite night club?"

"Oh of course, this one had to be your favorite."

He chuckles, draining his glass as he rests it back down on the counter gently. Everything he does has this delicate audacity to it; it all combines to create elegance in his every movement and it soothes me, filling my mind with curious questions about him, rather than concerns about the man that's been staring at me for a half hour.

In fact, he's still staring. I look back at him, side glancing to make sure Nameless doesn't catch me looking fearfully. I said I wanted him to protect me, but now I kind of need a one up on him. He's got everything except a law degree. Yay for me, but he has my dream job.

Everything is going swimmingly (except for my creeper at six o'clock) until Nameless single-handedly ruins the entire moment by taking out a cigarette.

"What?! Are you--" I groan and he looks at me with slight alarm.

"What?" He asks, as if he's innocent.

"Why are you smoking?!"

He looks around a few times before shrugging, and lighting the end of his pipe.

"I don't see a sign anywhere."

"No! I mean in general!"

"Oh," he smirks, "I didn't know you were my mother."

"You know," I smack the stick out of his hand, "your mother would not approve. We may have just met, but you must really hate yourself if you're considering destroying your body with a fucking cigarette."

He looks at me intently, biting his lip and sending waves of confusing emotions to my heart. I barely see him take another cigarette out of his pack, as my eyes are just mesmerised by his.

"What if I told you that it was a metaphor..." he suggests, but I cut him off before he can continue.

"This isn't fucking The Fault In Our Stars," I retort and he laughs,

"Alright alright," he holds his hands up in defeat before giving me another warm smile, "did you like my note?"

"Hated it actually," I tell him, swirling the ice around in my drink, "uncertainty is my least favorite thing to deal with."

"Well I didn't leave you waiting long, did I?"

"Long enough," I say with a small smile, because part of me is ecstatic that he didn't wait ages to see me again. He says this is his favorite place to go, but I have a feeling in my gut that he was just looking for me.

"My name is Harry," he says suddenly. The mention of his name has me all sobered up.

"Harry what?"

"Styles."

"Harry Styles," I let the name slip off my tongue, loving the sound of it almost immediately.

Harry Styles.

God, what an elegant name.

It fits him perfectly too, and that's what surprises me all over again. How can everything about him mesh together without a single flaw in the system?

"Why are you so perfect...?" I find myself mumbling, and I cover my mouth almost instantly. That was supposed to be an inner thought.

"Everything is uglier up close Liam," Harry says before taking my hand, "but, maybe I can offer you something instead of perfection?"

"If it's not a million dollars and a penthouse, I'm not taking it."

"Who said I'm your sugar daddy?"

"Who said I was gonna play along with you damn cigarette metaphors?"

A hearty laugh escapes his lips and I can't fight off the grin that's captivating me. This happiness feels way too good to have; who knows how long this will last. Maybe it's only for this vacation; what if I never see him again? That would definitely ruin me; attachment is the number one thing I can't avoid.

"Meet me in the bathroom? It's quieter in there."

"And trashier."

"Come on," he pleads, "it's crowded outside too. Trust me, the quietest place in a nightclub in Spain is the bathroom."

"Fine," I cave, "let's go."

"I'll meet you in there."

I nod, and pick myself up from my seat. As I walk to the bathroom (occasionally bumping into a man trying to get me to dance with them; apparently I'm man candy in this club) I start to wonder, what could Harry be offering other than sex? Not that I mind sex, but we just met today. I have a compelling reason to say yes (I would literally give anything to be in his presence alone), but does he?

Maybe he's into me? Likes the way I style my hair?

As I walk into the bathroom and see it now poking out unevenly because of the gel wearing out, I frown and try to rearrange it. He can't like the way I style my hair. It looks weird after like two hours and there's just no way he can like anything about me after a day.

I frown as I stare at myself, wishing we found a way to switch bodies. Harry could probably make me look better than he already does.

Speak of the devil; Harry enters the bathroom, his hands brushing his hair around and about. I turn from the mirror in a rush and look right at him as the door shuts behind him. He has this authentic glow to him as he enters the room. It must be the alcohol that's giving it to him, because for some reason, he looks more attractive than he ever has. He takes off those notorious sunglasses and hooks them on his shirt before giving me his undivided attention.

"So..."

"This must be important if we had to meet in a bathroom," I say and he rolls his eyes before smirking at me.

"Liam, you have to know by now that you've somehow... enthralled me."

Big man, big words. And maybe a big dick (I hope a big dick. I really think I'm getting sex out of this).

"If by enthralled you mean seduced, then I really don't think I have," I laugh, "I don't really... seduce. I haven't been dating for a reason."

"What? Liam you're--"

"No," I hold my hand up, "I'm not that guy you think I am. You on the other hand, with your culture, and your hair, and your--tattoos?"

Harry and I are both looking at his open chest and he rushes up to button his shirt.

"Shit..." he murmurs, hastily buttoning up his shirt to the top before looking at me again. His cool slowly comes back and I smile a little, seeing that he's left a button open in the middle.

"You missed one," I tell him, stepping closer to him and reaching up to button the single one in the middle of his chest. He looks down at me with a fond smile itching at the corners of his mouth.

"Why do you say you're not the guy I'm not looking for?"

"You've probably had better," I tell him, "why waste your time on me when--"

"The last time I had anything close to a lover was high school. You're my better Liam."

"We just met today though, how could you possibly know--"

"I'm not saying you're a lover," he gives me an 'are you dumb' look and I narrow my eyes, folding my arms as he continues, "I'm saying that you're the closest thing I've had to... feeling towards someone. It just struck me when I saw you."

"Mhm, yeah, tell me more lies."

I expect him to continue talking, but when I feel hands force their way onto my hips and push me against the wall, my eyes widen in surprise. His face increases in proximity with mine, and his existence before me takes away all of my ability to breathe.

"You think I'm playing, don't you?" he whispers ever so sweetly as he leans towards my ear. I can smell the peppermint on his breath and it makes me want to lean up and kiss him even more.

"You never quite pointed out if this was a game or not..."

My voice comes out in a hoarse desperate rasp as his lips trail down my neck. Lips have never felt so good on my neck in my life. He's captivating, but the last thing I need to be is played. Not that I think he would do that, because Harry Styles may be the least flawed person I've ever met.

"Life will always be a game Liam," his celestial voice rings in my ear, "but I promise you, for now, for just tonight, I can make it feel like it isn't."

"And when you're done?"

"Well I guess you'll have to learn how to play along."

I gulp, undoubtedly looking submissive and fragile as Harry is holding me with his single grip. His eyes are piercing into mine and I can feel him practically ripping me apart as he waits for a response.

"What if I don't learn?"

"Game over."

My sass returns in full force.

"Shut up, this isn't Super Mario Bros."

"But I just said--"

"Shut up," I chuckle, "can you just kiss me?"

He nods, pressing his lips to mine hastily. I quickly throw my hands around him and fall in love with the sensational feeling he's surrounding me in. My fingers alone twitch every once in awhile as he moves his lips in another way. His mouth is soft as it pushes against mine and I don't want the feeling to fade.

After the haste of our first touch fades, he starts to ease his lips into a rhythm with mine. His hands roam across my body and my mouth parts, a moan escaping as he kisses me harder.

"We should go," he says, pulling away and keeping me steady, "my house."

"You got weed?"

"Weed? What--"

"I'm kidding, let's go go go! Before I change my mind!"

-

My mouth misses Harry's lips as a driver takes us to his home. We've been driving up a spiraling road for ages and I just want to feel him again. We could be making out right now, but he claims it's rude. What a gentleman, but with terrible timing.

"Are we almost there?" I whisper to him, whining like a child as he pats the inside of my thigh.

"We'll be there any second," he replies, leaning over to kiss my cheek, "but wow, look at you."

"What?"

"One day in, and you're just begging for it."

"Shut the fuck up, you are too." I chuckle and he smiles as we finally stop driving in circles and pull up in a driveway.

"Okay," he starts, "so initially, I may have lied just a bit when I said I lived here. This is my vacation house."

"Then... where do you live?" I ask.

"I never stop moving. I have a few vacation houses located in remote areas. There are main places that I stay, just because, well..."

"Well what?"

"When life is so limited, why stay in one place?"

"Well I'm poor, I wouldn't know." I say, getting out of the car. He takes my hand as the driver pulls away, and I stare up at the beautiful house before me. It's huge, with windows taller than I;ve ever seen and just an incredible landscape. The entire place levels out, with the gardening outside (lit up by the lights that don't look like Christmas lights) to what looks like a huge mural leading to his backyard. The mural is lit up by spotlights and it looks like it's filled with signatures. Harry's artistic vision is...incredible. Yes, I'll say it a third time; incredible.

"Wow..." I whisper as he leads me up, unlocking the door. Suddenly I'm not antsy to have sex. I just want to sit here and listen to Harry tell stories about his life; because he has to have more than a million.

"Do you like it?"

"I love it," I continue to whisper as he unlocks the door to what looks like the main foyer. I push it open, shoving him out of the way rudely as I look inside, gasping like a child as I catch sight of the glimmering chandelier that's bigger than my future.

"Welcome to my castle, princess."

He almost gets away with that sly comment until I flip him off, rolling my eyes as he seems to be getting a big ass kick out of it.

"What, you don't like it?"

"No," I mumble, tracing the marble counters to the kitchen (sorry, big ass kitchen), "I don't like it."

"But the only way I can show you the world is if you'll be my princess."

"Who says you're gonna show me the world? I've known you for less than 24 hours."

"Like I said Liam, I know myself; I don't feel this way about people anymore. You're the first in ages. And it's stronger than ever."

"...Can I be a prince instead?"

"Anything you want."

This is weird; being so involved with Harry after literally not even a full day of knowing him. Partially, I can't help but not give a single fuck, because I've already adapted to being around him. I suppose that's a thing with him; a constant homey feeling.

"Am I... staying here tonight?" I ask, fiddling with my fingers nervously.

We're both soft now, no intentions of fucking or being fucked into oblivion.

"If you'd like," Harry replies, "I have some clothes you can wear."

"Good, because that was a long ass drive, and I'm really not feeling going back."

I laugh and so does he, leading me upstairs.

"I'll give you the tour tomorrow," he tells me, "but once you get changed, could you follow the stairwell up to the roof?"

"Sure," I say, "where am I sleeping?"

"I'm a fan of cuddling, so, in there."

He spins around, pointing to the door with a gigantic 'H' engraved in the wood. This rich white boy has it all, doesn't he?

"I'm sleeping in the same room as you?"

"I'm not diseased or downright strange," he argues, "I don't see the big deal."

"We just met--"

"Stop measuring our relationship with time!" He shouts, laughing right after. I smile, shrugging before I open the door slightly.

"You can pick up clothes from the bottom left drawer. See you in a bit."

-

Harry's clothes are really soft, if I must make a statement. I feel as if I'm walking on clouds with Jesus Christ holding one of my hands and Beyoncé's in the other. Sighing happily, I push the door open to the roof and my eyes land on a dramatic sight. Harry stands with his elbows resting on the banister that surrounds the rooftop. The wind is blowing softly and it ruffles his hair as he moves his head in small increments. His hand fiddles with a ring, specifically a blood red one. Harry looks more beautiful than ever, even though the only thing I can spot in the darkness is his shadow. The sun is setting before us, and the light yellow-orange glow brightens the front of his silhouette; the part I can't see.

"Harry?"

My voice sounds weak and innocent in comparison to his being as he turns, his figure softening at the sight of me in his clothing.

"Come," he says, waving his fingers and calling me over. I nod, inching my way to him as he wraps his long arms around me. I instantly ease in, Zayn's warnings pertaining to enigmas slowly melting out of my brain.

"Look at the horizon," Harry says, rubbing his hands over my shoulders, "do you see that Liam?"

"See what?"

"Everything the light touches, is our kingdom."

"Are you--are you for real right now?"

He laughs and nuzzles his nose into my neck, kissing softly.

"No, but it's a great ass view, isn't it?"

"Yeah," I sigh, leaning back on him as I clutch his forearm, "it is."

"One day, we'll get a chance to find more great views like this."

"You seem to like getting my hopes up. I have so many things to look forward to with you."

"Yeah, sadly it's my weakness."

"What is?"

"Getting people's hopes up."

"Thanks for telling me."

He sighs deeply, closing his eyes as I continue to stare out in the distance. As the sun disappears for good and the stars begin to twinkle in its absence, I hear Harry speak the last words we exchange for the night.

"Of course, for the sake of an enigma."

i'm really liking this fic so far oh my god...