《Rain | Harry Styles》1.6

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"Are you sure you want to go tonight?" Tasha asked anxiously, as I glanced over my shoulder before turning back to the mirror.

"It was your idea," I countered running my hand through the loose curls in my hair, "originally."

"I know, I just.." she sighed, wandering over to my record player that sat collecting dust on the window sill, "I just didn't plan for you to go apeshit on Sadie," she mused, picking up a record from the stack, "Fleetwood Mac?"

My breath hitched in my throat, and I forced myself to clear it.

"Fleetwood Mac," he read audibly this time, turning to lock eyes with me, "You like them?"

"When I was younger, I did, yeah," I smiled, jumping down from my spot on the table, walking to stand beside Harry, "It's been a while since I've listened to them, though."

"Mm," Harry hummed, sliding the vinyl from its packaging and laying it onto the platter, and lowering the needle onto it, flicking the switch for the music to play.

As the first note sounded, I let my head fall back with a wide smile growing on my face, and instantly I felt the most relaxed I had in weeks.

"I love this song so much," I laughed, as the grin grew on Harry's face, the song building, Harry playfully belting out some of the notes while I continued to laugh.

"Dance with me," I told him, using his shirt to pull him closer to me as I grinned.

He blew out a breath, stiffening up slightly under my touch, "I don't dance, Ana Grace."

"You do now," I continued to grin.

"No, I don't."

"Harry Styles, dance with me right now."

Harry blew out another breath, a smile breaking through his sigh as he wound his arm around my waist, relaxing into my touch now, "Okay, Ana Grace, okay."

I wrapped my arms around myself, the memory of only a month ago when Harry had lazily thrown his arms around me, stumbling over his own feet several times as we danced to the music, muttering something about 'two left fucking feet'.

"Yeah, they're good," I swallowed, while all Tasha did was shrug, shoving it back into the stack.

"Old people stuff," she chuckled, walking over to stand behind where I was sat, the two of us looking into the mirror, "you look insane."

"Is that a good thing?" I laughed uneasily, tilting my head.

"Insanely good, I meant," she laughed in return, "you ready to go?"

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"Ready as I'll ever be," I shrugged, grabbing my phone and my keys and shoving them into the pocket of my jacket.

Tasha drove us to the party, and since it was only a few blocks away, we were there within a few minutes.

Tasha turned to me as she stopped the engine, "We'll stick together, alright?"

That promise was broken more or less as soon as we made it inside the party - the crowd was moving quickly, and within moments I was on one side of the room and I presumed Tasha was on the other.

"Shit," I mumbled to myself, knowing it was now unlikely I'd see her again tonight. I knew how these parties went.

I headed over to what looked like the kitchen, and poured myself a drink. I was planning to get drunk - I deserved some fun.

"You on your own?" an accent I didn't recognise sounded from beside me, and I spun around.

"I'm supposed to be with my friend," I shrugged, taking a sip from my cup, "but I think she might've got pulled into another room."

"Eh, it happens," he grinned, taking his own cup, "I'm Zayn."

"Ana," I smiled, downing the rest of my drink, "I probably look crazy, but I'm sorta looking to get wasted tonight."

"I can keep up," he winked, and I nodded my head, pouring myself another drink.

"That's what I like to hear," I laughed, taking a long sip of my drink, now.

Two drinks turned to three, three to four, and then four to five, before I lost count. Zayn was nice - very nice. He was a year older, and so he graduated last Summer - he didn't have plans for college, and he was a cat person - I suppose that was a con.

"You know," I announced a little too loudly, swallowing the contents of my cup for what felt like the hundredth time, "Men suck."

"Not all of us," he laughed, steadying me as I leant on the counter, "maybe that drink should be your last."

"You sound like my mom! Shut it!" I exclaimed, stumbling over my words a little as I laughed hysterically, my laughter quickly turning to heavy sobs, "My mom is a bitch."

"Alright, Ana," Zayn took the drink from my hand, "what are you trying so hard to forget, hm?" he asked gently, as I shook my head, moving around him to stumble outside into the empty backyard.

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He didn't follow me - I didn't want him to. Now he was asking questions I didn't want to answer.

"Fuck you, Harry," I whispered out into the freezing night air, pulling my jacket tightly around me.

Before I knew it I was pulling my phone out of my pocket, and pressing on Harry's contact.

"Ana?"

"Harry!" I cheered, ecstatic with the line for connecting, "What's crackalackin?" I burst out laughing at that, "Did you hear that? CRACK AH LACKINNN!" I shouted, and I could hear his sigh through the receiver.

"Ana, baby, are you drunk?" his voice sounded through the phone - who made his voice that beautiful?

"No, no!" I yelled, "you, Sir - you do not get to call me nice names! You're a dick!"

"Ana-"

"You are an asshole! I'm too good for you, anyway," I slurred, "I can't believe I ever liked you - you're horrible."

"Ana, where are you?"

"A party, duh!" I said as if it were obvious.

"Alex's party, yeah?" he asked, and I nodded, although he couldn't see, "Can you stay on the phone with me, Ana?" I frowned, shaking my head now.

"No, wait - I'm not even supposed to talk to you," I scowled, scolding myself a little.

"Mhm, I know," he answered softly, as I heard a car door slam shut and an engine start up.

"Where are you going?" I frowned, laying back on a bench that sat against the wall.

"Nowhere, Ana Grace," he replied, and I shrugged it off, "Just stay put for me, yeah?"

I didn't remember the rest of the conversation taking place; I didn't hang up the phone, and frankly, I didn't know why - I just couldn't bring myself to.

I felt myself lifted into strong arms just as my eyes began to flutter shut, the grip familiar, but momentarily unidentifiable.

"Don't touch me," I murmured weakly, my eyes beginning to open.

"Shh," was all that came in response as my head fell back against their shoulder. My eyes focused now, and I examined the person above me, the dimple prominent, jaw defined and sharp.

"Harry," I stated, looking up at him closely as I was put into the front seat of a car I didn't recognize.

H.

"That's me," my voice rasped as I placed her gently into the front seat, pulling the seatbelt over her. I shut the door, stepping around the car to get into the driver's seat.

"Who's car is this?" she slurred as I started the engine, "it smells funny." Who let her get this drunk?

I bit back a laugh, "My mate's - you don't know him," I said honestly, taking off down the street. Liam hadn't been chuffed about me borrowing his car, the bastard, but it didn't stop me.

"Is he nice like you?" she asked, and I shook my head.

"I'm not a very nice guy, Ana Grace," I exhaled, "I wasn't very nice to you."

"I think you're nice," she announced, greatly differing from the abuse she'd shouted down the phone.

All I did was hum in response as I pulled up outside my house, lifting her out of the car with ease and carrying her to the front door, where Liam stood.

"Damn, she's really wasted," Liam folded his arms as I walked past him, Ana giggling in my arms.

"No shit," I mumbled, carrying her upstairs to my room and laying her carefully on the bed. She wasn't putting up a fight like I expected, she only lay as I told her.

I walked over to my drawers, pulling a shirt from there and tossing it onto my bed.

"C'mere," I murmured, as Ana sat up as best she could, immediately attaching her lips to my neck. I grunted, trying to pull her away from me as she ran her hand over my crotch, "Ana, no. You're drunk."

"So?" she giggled into the crook of my neck, sucking on the skin for a moment before I pulled her away.

I sighed. God, I found Ana so attractive, but I didn't want to be with her this way, "No. You need to rest, baby, come on," I soothed, as she groaned, leaning back from me. I lifted her shirt over her head, and tugged her jeans down her legs after tossing her shoes aside, leaving her in only her underwear below me. Fuck, Harry, focus.

I'd never seen her this way before, ever - and if she wasn't so wasted, I'd have been so tempted - but I pulled my shirt over her head so it now covered her body, and pulled the covers over her. She was beyond wasted, and I found myself wondering how many she'd had, and why she'd- Then I came to the realisation. She'd gotten this drunk because of me.

"Goodnight, Ana," I mumbled, pressing a kiss to her forehead as sleep was already pulling her under. I headed outside to sleep on the couch, wondering how the fuck I was going to explain myself to her in the morning.

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