Harry. Styles. Those two words make so many guys jealous because they know as they sleep with their girlfriends they are dreaming about having me fuck them. That's the way of my life. Everything. Is. About. Me. End of story. Period. Exclamation point. Done. I want the cameras back on me, and I know exactly how I'm gonna do it. I'm going to create the biggest scandal ever. It's the perfect time to do so, so get ready because this is going to be the summer to break rules, and fall in love? I never thought she would be entering the picture. This changes everything. Me plus her equals catastrophe divide that and you get two teenagers who perfectly in love and utterly Wild.
**+15 for mature content {language, sexual scenes, etc}** Continuation of the Meet Me In Battersea Park stories, exemplified as Harry's story.


14. Distracting You From Temptation

I came home from hospital feeling even worse about myself. Harry was talking to me, making sure I was alright, but I wasn't. I was losing myself, unsure what was actually going on with myself. 

I thought I had control, I thought I was able to keep myself perfect. Able to tell myself no, I was completely wrong. 

So of course, I was anything but alright. 

"Crick," said Harry. It sounded like he said my name multiple times, but I just heard him say it for the first time. 

I looked up at him. His curls, his green eyes. 

I burst into tears. I fall to the floor, brining my legs to my chest. 

Harry soon fell beside me, placing his arms around me. "It's okay," he hummed. 

"No," I said. "It's not. I'm a terrible person. Take me back to Louis' house, I'm unable to be controlled."

"Stop," he muttered. "I'm not taking you anywhere. You are confused, and I know how it feels. I don't care that you took the drugs, I don't care about anything. I only want you. All of you. Don't take that away from me." 

He placed his forehead against mine. "Why do you care so much about me?"

He hummed against my skin causing a vibration before he spoke into my ear, "Because I love you." 

I started to cry harder. "Don't--Don't say that. Please say you don't mean that."

He pulled away a little and placed his hands on either side of my face, making me look at him. "I mean it. Why can't I love you?"

I looked up into his eyes, and whispered, "I'm scared." 

"Let me take your fear away." He gently brought his lips down on mine. I quickly gave into him. "Let me protect you," he continued. "Let me love you." 

He brought me closer to him as my fingers found their way into his brown hair. His hands on my lower back, pulling me closer and closer. 

When I felt like I couldn't breathe, he pulled away softly as he kissed along my jawline and down my neck. Sucking onto the sensitive skin. I moaned into his hair as he went lower, kissing around my breasts. 

My mind was completely invaded by butterflies, unable to think. His touch was the only sensation that kept going through my body. 

Like an electric shock. 

My eyes drifted close as his hands explored me. He was being so gentle, not pushing me, not removing clothing. It was like a first time, bringing back innocence. 

My innocence. 

I lay back, my back hitting the wooden floors. We hadn't even made it into the living room, but on the floor, still surrounded by the hallway of the foyer. I slowly opened my eyes, looking up at the ceiling. 

Feeling him all around me, the dark apartment. 

He was kissing the inside of my arm as his fingertips ran along the inner side of my thigh. 

"What are you thinking?" He asked me between kisses. 

I kept looking up at the ceiling. "Starting over. I want to start over." 

I felt his hands touch the floor around me as he leaned over top of me. I looked up at his green eyes. "Let's start over," he agreed. He smiled softly and then placed a quick and small kiss over the tip of my nose. 

He lay down beside me and pulled me with him. His arm wrapped around me as I let my head lay on his chest. His index finger making circles on my arm. 

"I like this," I said to him, whispering, thinking anything louder would be an intrusion. 

"Me too," he also whispered. "It's a lot nicer without the distractions." 

My hand balled around his shirt quickly before letting ago. I hummed, "It is." 

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