Saturday, September 6, 2014

a Harry Style's Imagine


For Charlie

"Tell me, Harry..." I grabbed both of his bare shoulders as hard as I could and looked him straight in the eye. "You'll never speak of her again."

And that's when we kissed and he bumped his head on the metal bedframe. God, I hoped he didn't get his mind back, anytime soon.

He kissed me like I was the only one. Ever.

"Who?" He looked a bit puzzled, even with a crooked grin. I bit my bottom lip, hoping not to give anything away. After all, it was me who found him on the boardwalk, stripped of his phone and wallet. Some hoodlums got him from behind. I just didn't make it, in time. But at least he was OK. And it had to be Harry. It had to be. I had examined those tats very carefully.

I think he'd had a fight with Kendal, but I wasn't certain. And that could have been a pack who got him. It was just hard to find the marks these days.

"Its OK." I sighed. I didn't care if he were dumb at the moment. I pushed him down on the pillow and had my way with him. He wasn't exactly an imbecile.

But after a good twenty minutes of finding each other and all the right parts that really mattered, the doorbell rang.

"Dang." I wanted to say something else, but I didn't want him thinking I was in a girl gang or anything.

 I mean, I get around. I do jobs for people. Like exposing vamps and retraining werewolves to get back in society, but he really didn't need to know that.

"Stay." As if I were talking to my dog. I was in my black undies. I slipped into my skinny jeans and grabbed my plaid shirt. Just my luck it was business.

"Really?" This was not like Misha to drop in. "What are, you, doing here?"

"You, didn't show up at the coffee shop." He said, looking around as if I might actually be hiding Harry Styles in my apartment.

"What coffee shop?" I winced as if he must have been mistaken. We never go out for coffee.

"You know, the one..below.. where you live." He was being nosy. He even checked my fridge and stole a protein bar from my cookie jar.

"And?" I gritted.

"What do, you, know about clones?" He looked at me as if this was our next big case.

"Clones?" I looked at him as if he'd really lost the plot, this time.

"Yeah, I hear that Simon fellow from American idol is cloning boy bands." He shrugged.

"Where did hear such mindless crap?" I almost snickered, but it got me wondering about what was in my bedroom. No way could that Harry be a clone. No way.

"Its on the news." He looked at me as if I were his brightest student, and he was the best father figure I'd ever have.

I crossed my arms.

"So, what do, you, have in your bedroom, luv?" He stared me down as if he would get an answer from me yet.

"I think its time for you to go." Did I need to man wrestle him?

"What?" He squinted hard as if I must be joking, but I pushed him toward the door. Whatever business we had could wait.

I was not done with Harry. And he was an original. I needed to do a little re-programing. Like, less touring and more time with me. Especially, if he was what I thought he was.

Finally, Misha left.

"Whats going on?" Harry opened the bedroom door as if he'd gotten cold or something.

"It was nothing." I smiled as if I'd got this.

"Have any sausages?" He smiled.

"Sausages?" I almost winked.

"Yeah, I have a hankering. Bangers and beans." He looked so fine, bare in his black skinny jeans.

I grabbed him by his belt loops. With a sway and tease, we were back in a liplock.

"You, have any memories yet?" I wanted to know.

"Just of you." He grinned and kissed me on the forehead before he looked in the fridge. After all, he was determined to make me breakfast, even if it were an egg scramble.

I guess we'd have to wait until the next full moon to see if Harry got hairy.

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