The Wolves

Harry hailed a taxi and we both climbed in; the driver seemed to spend a few too many moments looking at Harry before setting off, and he kept glancing at him in the mirror as he drove.

"You're that Styles boy, aren't you?" He spoke, his voice thick with the weight of years and years of cigarette smoking; raspy and deep.

Harry nodded.

"Are your his girlfriend?"

I shook my head silently, Harry looked at me from the corner of his eye.

"That's good, my 12 year old neice would be heartbroken." I wasn't sure if it was meant to be offensive or if the middle aged taxi driver just had a naturally evil laugh, but he seemed to find what he'd said hilarious.

I looked up at Harry and furrowed my eyebrows, he shrugged and delve into a conversation with the taxi driver about the new album as I stared out the window. My head was starting to ache and my vision was still spinning as I felt Harry's hands squeeze my thigh. I darted my eyes towards him but he wasn't looking back, and I didn't know if it was Harry or the taxi, but suddenly I was beginning to feel very sick.

We pulled up outside my hotel and Harry handed a handful of notes to the driver before we both clambered out of the car. He pressed his hand to the small of my back as he met me round my side, "Which one's your room?"

I shrugged as we started up the stairs, shoving my hand into my purse and pulling out a key that read "262" and handed it to him. He looked at it once as we got inside the lobby and nodded, guiding me towards the elevator.

"I could probably handle it from here..." I said quietly. It wasn't awkward, but the silence was killing me. But what killed me more was the idea that I was dismissing him again when I'd spent the past 5 years wondering if I'd ever see him again.

Harry sighed, "Let me just get you to your room."

The elevator dinged and alerted us of its presence and Harry's hand slipped from my back and round to my wrist, fingers slowly finding mine as he linked them with mine. I just nodded, trying not to stare at the way our hands were entwined and how his hands had gotten so much bigger than mine.

"I'm sorry, by the way."

I bit my lip and squeezed my eyes shut, "Harry, please."

I heard him sigh again, "No.. Rachel.. just- please. Your mum showed my mum a photo of you with some guy."

"His name was James."

"Was?"

"We broke up like 3 months ago."

"How long were you together?"

"About 3 years."

"Nearly as long as us." He commented and I let out a scoff.

"Nearly."

"Did you love him?" the elevator stopped at that and the doors opened to my floor.

"Why does it matter?"

"It doesn't." He said, tugging on my hand and out of the elevator, "I just- yeah it doesn't matter."

I didn't say anything for a few moments after that, just followed Harry as he unlocked my room and lead me inside, "Coffee?"

I don't know why I asked; a part of me just didn't want him to leave just yet. I felt like there was so much left to be said, but I just didn't know what it was. He looked surprised, but nodded, "Milk and-"

"Three sugars." I finished, clearing my throat as I nodded, "I remember."

Harry stared at me for a moment, "I thought you didn't like coffee?"

"I don't," I shook my head, "But you do."

It was silent as the hotel-provided kettle boiled in the corner of the room. I poured him a cup of coffee and the silence continued.

"It was your birthday last week." Harry said, I just nodded, "I uh... I debated sending you a text, but I didn't know if your number had changed."

I laughed sadly, because the truth was I hadn't changed it just in case he ever tried to contact me, "No I uh- I haven't changed it; it's still the same."

"I'll remember that next year." He nodded and brought the coffee cup to his lips. I watched as his curls fell over his forehead and he had to brush them out of the way. His shirt had been rolled up to his elbows and I took note of all the tattoos he'd added to his body.

I couldn't help it; over-analysing every part of him. Maybe it was the fuzziness in my head from the alcohol, or maybe it was just because it'd been so long since I saw him.

"I think you need to go to bed." He muttered, placing the cup down on the coffee table, "C'mon."

I let him take my hand again, which surprised me, as he lead me to my room, but what surprised me more is the way I let him unzip my dress and push it down my shoulders, "I've got nothing to sleep in - the airport lost my luggage."

An amused smile flickered on his space for a moment, "That would only happen to you."

"I know," I mumbled, climbing into bed in an attempt to cover my body up that was now only clad in underwear.

"I should probably go." Harry said, "But-" he paused, running his tongue across his bottom lip, "I'll text you or something, yeah?"

I nodded and he stood there for a moment, staring at me. It was in one swift motion that he took a stride towards me and placed his hands on either side of the pillow that my head was on, dipping his head down and catching my lips in a kiss before I even knew what was going on.

It was over as soon as it started, and then he left. Hearing the door of our hotel apartment close set my mind off at 100mph. He was gone again.