Diana

The flat is pitch black, with the exception of a small hanging light in the kitchen. There is no sign of Sadie being awake anywhere in sight, and all everyday appliances are turned off. Once the key is turned and Diana opens the front door, she flicks the switch beside it to turn on the light in the living room. She tugs her shoes off, and throws her satchel onto the couch.

"You can wait here if you want," she says to Harry over her shoulder as she heads into the kitchen.

Harry obeys and makes himself comfortable on the couch. He thinks about turning the TV on, but then he remembers that Sadie might be asleep and does not want to disturb her. Harry puts his jacket aside and it lands on Diana’s satchel that is thrown earlier. He subtly sits on the couch, and has his body learning forward far enough to see Diana in the kitchen through the wide connecting arch.

There is not the slightest expression that resembles annoyance or boredom on Diana's face. She does not necessarily look thrilled or excited either; her face looks just straight. Maybe this is the alcohol speaking, but Harry swears that Diana has the best body he has ever seen.

That is definitely huge for Harry to say, because he has gone out with models before, but Diana still has the best body proportion in his eyes.

Diana has a semi-hourglass figure, not too extreme, but not too flat either. Not to be perverted, but her chest compliments her bottom perfectly, with a smooth, flat stomach in between. Anyone who knows Harry knows that he is a sucker for flat tummies. She has legs that go for miles, but she is not taller than Harry, even when she is wearing heels. Her short hair flatters her shoulders, framing her collarbones in the best possible way. As Diana reaches for the sugar on the upper cabinet, her loose tanktop is slightly lifted, showing a fragment of her skin. That very small reveal is enough to send shivers down Harry's spine.

Diana puts the small cup of sugar along with the coffee on a tray, and she snatches a bottle of Snapple from the fridge for herself. She walks back to the living room to return to Harry, while he readjusts himself on the couch, letting his back rest against it.

She walks over Harry’s feet before settling down beside him and placing the tray on the table. He is about to reach for the coffee mug but Diana beats him to it.

When his hands pull away, they slightly come in contact with Diana’s cold ones, making her unexpectedly tremble and spill a dash of the hot coffee on Harry’s chest.

“Shit! What the hell am I—“

"This coffee-spilling madness we seem to keep having is really getting old, isn't it?" Harry says while cringing, as some of the hot coffee soaks through his t-shirt and onto his skin.

"I'm so, so sorry, hold on a second," Diana apologizes as she runs to the kitchen to grab some paper towels.

When she comes back, she steps over Harry's legs then kneels between him and the coffee table. She presses one of the paper towels onto his chest, with no intention other than cleaning the coffee stain. Her other hand is clutching the rest of the paper towels, not realizing that she has brought way too much than she actually needs.

Harry is shocked by Diana's gestures and giggles, "Di, you don't have to do that."

She doesn't reply, because her mind is somewhat set on the huge mess in front of her.

"Di, seriously..." he insists as he grabs her hands and keeps them off his person.

Her focus is distracted and she immediately looks up. The space between their faces is close to none, and their noses are only millimeters away from touching each other.

Harry is convinced that he didn't drink that much earlier. Hell, he swears that he is even sober enough to drive home right that second. But it really looks like he has absolutely no control of any of his actions that night, including the following.

His hand releases hers and grabs onto the back of her head as he presses his lips onto hers. His other hand finds its way to her hips and wraps itself around it, pulling it to meet his.

Harry doesn't know if it was the way his chest stings from her touch even though his skin doesn't even meet hers or the fact that she was literally kneeling in front of him, even though it was for the most innocent reason. All he knows is that he wants to touch her. He needs to touch her.

Harry's sudden hard kiss takes Diana by surprise, but she soon finds herself giving in and returning it. The paper towels leave her hands and are replaced by his charming jawbone and iconic curls.

Diana caresses his cheek and pulls his face closer to hers, as if it was necessary. Harry attacks Diana’s lips aggressively, but not rushed. He is so good at putting on the right amount of pressure, while still keeping some space for Diana to make her move. His warm lips swiftly dance with her soft ones, and the way he does it makes the tiniest bone of her body shiver.

Harry gently bites Diana's bottom lip, and then tilts his head to let his tongue enter her mouth. She gladly welcomes it and lets them findle. Harry slightly lifts her behind and sits her on his lap for a more comfortable position. Diana responds by gripping his hair tightly and in sync with the tingle in her stomach every time Harry's tongue makes a move.

Before she knows it, Harry already has his fingertips slide their way up her back and inside her tanktop. Once they reach the hem of her bra, Diana unwillingly tries to break the kiss but Harry doesn't allow her.

"Ha... rry..." she murmurs against his lips, "I can't... do this..."

He replies her resistance with yet more aggressive kisses. Harry pulls away from her for a moment before planting kisses on her bare shoulder, sucking on her weak spots.

Diana whimpers from the attack, hating the exceptional control of his own tongue and the way it makes her feel so good. "Harry, I'm serious..." Diana pushes him on the shoulder to separate them from each other.

Harry groans in disappointment and opens his eyes, "Why not?" he says with his arms resting around her waist. Alcohol may be the trigger of this, but even when he's sober, he can't deny his physical attraction towards her.

Diana's hands slide down to his chest that is now damp from the spill earlier, "Because... I'm sort of trying this thing with Jace, I mean, we are… and...."

"You never actually confirmed that he was your boyfriend," Harry insists.

"No, I know, but maybe I should listen to Sadie,” she says as she gets off Harry’s lap and sits beside him instead.

“What did she say?”

“You know, that I should try to be in a… relationship,” Diana can swear that she almost choke on the last word.

“Yeah?”

“I guess. I mean, I hate labels, but I also hate to say that Sadie’s right. It’s not only about sex anymore with him.”

He runs his fingers through his shiny curls as he releases a sigh. As much as he wants her, Harry knows that his mother taught him better than to shag another man’s girl, so he just lightly taps Diana’s thigh and simply says, “Okay. Whatever you say.”

They both throw their back against the couch at the same time.

"Sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. Shouldn't have made the move," Harry says as he plays with his bottom lip, twisting and pinching.

"Totally not your fault," Diana ensures him.

"Maybe it's the alcohol."

She unconsciously stares at him, watching his lips move as he forms each of every word. Never in a million years would Diana have thought that she'd be making out with Harry Styles in her tiny living room at one in the morning with her roommate sleeping upstairs.

No, scratch that. Who she has sitting beside her is not Harry Styles. Not the Harry Styles she has been seeing on TV anyway, one who wears overpriced coats and goes to Fashion Weeks. The Harry that she is with right now is a gentleman who throws witty comebacks at her lame remarks about him being a popstar and lends her his jacket afterwards.

With his face so close to hers, Diana can see the gravels on his face, confirming her judgments about celebrities being retouched on photoshop before they appear in magazines. But she likes it. She likes that he is, in fact, not made of porcelain. Diana likes the fact that he is a real person, and to be honest, it makes her feel butterflies in places she shouldn't be feeling. Also, the way he keeps on fiddling with his lip is not making her resistance any easier.

Harry disrupts her train of thought by saying, "Let's just to try to be--" But he is soon interrupted by Diana's weight on top of him and her lips reattached to his.

His knees weaken and his chest tightens before it relaxes. His hands are back to exploring her smooth body while hers easily wrap themselves around his neck. Harry and Diana are soon back to touching and feeling and exploring each other's person.

She rocks her hips and presses it against his, smirking against his lips when he slightly moans in pleasure. Diana wants nothing more than to stand by her words earlier, but every bone in her body is disobeying her. The way his curls fill in the gaps between her fingers and the way his fingertips travel along her backbone excite the little jade inside of her. She wouldn’t care even if she’s marrying the Prince tomorrow, because her body demands for his touch right now.

Harry, however, suddenly begs to differ.

He cups her cheeks in his hands, “No…” he tries to get a word out with their lips so attached.

She hums in return, not wanting to leave his mouth.

He grips her cheeks more firmly and tries to push her a little away, “No, Di, you said…”

“I know what I said,” she says as she detaches her lips only to reattach them against her jaw and neck. She then lets her tongue find its way up to nibble on the leaf of his right ear.

Harry bites his bottom lip to keep himself from letting out yet another moan, almost sure that if he doesn’t let go soon, he will tear it apart. “Di, we’re drunk.”

“Not that drunk,” she says as she continues to bash into him.

He knows that he has to immediately separate her body from his or he won’t be able to control himself and does something that he knows he will regret. “We can’t do this. Unless you’re changing your mind about Jace.”

Diana sits back up on his lap, “I’m not changing my mind about anything; not Jace nor this. What’s the big deal?”

“You might be used to this, but I’m not.”

“What? Sex?”

“No, one-night-stands.”

“Is there a difference?”

Diana starts to lean in once again, but Harry keeps her from doing it. “No, Di, I mean it. As much as I’d like to, I don’t wanna be the third person.”

“I wanna be with Jace, but I’m sure he couldn’t care less.”

“You told me that both of you are trying this out, so unless you change your mind, I’m not doing this.”

She is both confused and frustrated by Harry’s resistance, not understanding how he initially started the whole thing but now he is rejecting it. “You initiated this!” she exclaims as she stands up from Harry’s lap.

“I know, I said I’m sorry, but we can’t do it. Not like this.”

The last few words startle Diana quite a bit, “Not like this?”

Looking just as surprised, Harry responds, “Forget it.”

“Fine, whatever,” Diana says as she slams herself against the couch next to him.

“I’ve heard a few things about you, you know. From Sadie. That’s how I know that for you to even say that you want to try to work things out with Jace is quite a lot.”

Diana just scoffs in return.

“Hey, it’s true! The last thing I wanna be is the jerk who fucks it all up before it even started,” he says as he tucks some of Diana’s hair behind her ear.

“Well then you should stop doing shit like that,” she says while she throws him a side look.

Harry chuckles, “Sorry.” He stands up and slips out of the sofa, passing Diana, before he grabs his keys and jacket. “Okay, I should head home and you should get some sleep.”

He heads towards the front door with Diana following right behind him. “Yeah, sure.” Harry lets Diana open the door as he slips into his shoes and puts his jacket back on.

She leans against the door side while still holding onto the handle. He awkwardly goes in for a hug and she simply returns it with one arm and a stiff smile.

“Thank you… for uh, the coffee.”