Mr. Styles » H.S.

Mara Zaragoza has never been the person of quite confidence. On her first day of at Portland University, she encounters with her Literature professor - Mr. Harry Styles. Who's a charmer and has expensive taste. Dealing with her anxiety and not accepting who she is, Mr. Styles brings out the best of her. With misunderstandings, finding love again, and completely bringing out the best of each other. Mara finds that her deepest affection in life is found in the one and only - Mr. Styles.

Copyright © 2014 || All Rights Reserved


11. Ten

Harry ordered Sushi for room service. We were sitting on the floor by the coffee table. Harry had this all planned out; having extra clothes, and getting this honeymoon suite ready. I wore pajamas; baby blue tank top and short shorts. So soft and silky. My hair was out of the bobby pins, and I washed off my makeup. My legs were over Harry's lap, and I was eating sushi from a small plate.  

"Did you enjoy tonight?" He asked me.   

I nodded, stuffing a shrimp into my mouth. I stuffed another one, to prevent myself from talking. I understand what happened tonight. I just can't over the face that I let him do it; eat me out and finger me. For god sakes Mara, what happened to taking things slow. That was as close as having him inside me. I shoved another sushi. Mara, you let your Literature professor finger you. Your professor. How can you be so—  


I looked up seeing Harry hold a worried expression. "Yes?" His large hand was on my thigh and he began to rub it. Up and down. I can feel the friction contacting our exposed skins. "Are you alright? You seem awfully quiet." I stuffed another sushi. I smiled at him while deep inside I felt guilty.   

"It's just—what we did was unexpected. I-I never done anything like this ever. And with you—the fact that you're my professor, it feels wrong. Really wrong."  

"In class you're my student and I'm your professor. Outside you are my girlfriend."  

"So is that how's going to be all semester. Pretend that nothing is going on between us and watch every student flirt with you. What about tomorrow? When the both of us don't show up, people will start to question. Then what—you'll be gone before I can read the next chapter."  

Harry ran his fingers through his long curly hair. Muttering to himself. "Why do you keep doing this? Why do you always have to see me as your professor? When I, see you as Mara. Not my student."  

"Because I never imagined me in a relationship. I never thought it could ever happen!"   

I stand up. Already feeling my chest tighten, and my breath shorten. I hate when we argue because my attacks happen. I look through my clutch and find my pills; swallowing them raw without water. Feeling two arms wrapped around me, Harry snuggled his head in the crook of my neck. I inhale, then exhale a huge amount of air.   

"Why?" Harry mutters against my neck.  

"Because—I'm afraid Harry. I never imagined someone have an affection towards me. Never have I thought of doing this; dating, kissing, and doing sexual activities. I've always imagined myself being alone for my whole life. A guy, I thought was the one wanted to take advantage of me; and I thought I'd never let anyone else in. I'm afraid that what we have now will be gone tomorrow. That you'll leave me and never see you again. Girls like me don't deserve someone like you. I, myself think I don't deserve you. I've felt alone all this time, Harry—and to feel somebody's company is so new. I'm a stubborn person. I won't want anyone else having you. It'll hurt me."  

I turn to face him. My cheeks stained with tears; this is the second time I've cried tonight. Harry's eyes did that spark. I hope they continue to do so. He cups my whole face, and bring it closer to his. Gently his lips taste mine. "My Mara, I've waited so long for you. From the moment I saw you in my class, I knew you were special. A girl worth fighting for. I will count the stars, and by the time I finish—I'll be right beside you. Wherever you go, I'll go with you. If you want me to leave, I won't hesitate, and I'll go. No one else deserves you—for you are your own person."  

I laughed; wiping away my tears. "That sounded so poetic," I told him.  

"For you only, I'll talk in poetry. Let the stars see your beauty, let the flowers inhale your aroma of lavender, let the birds hear your voice, and let the world know that you're here to stay. My Mara, the air that I breathe has been taken away by your beauty. You have bewitched me, Mara. Every inch of my body, and soul. I can never ask you to be mine. For a woman, can only own herself. But I do ask from you is this—love me."  


The next morning, I've woken up next to him. His arm hung over my waist, and his head nuzzled by my neck. I feel his hot breathes tickle my skin, and hear him mumble words of nonsense. His long curly hair covered half his face; so I pushed it back. To reveal his angelic features. My fingers traced his chiseled out jawline, plumped lips; I traced his whole face. I wanted to remember it with the touch of my fingertips. I placed a strand of hair behind his ear. His elvish like ears. Harry's arms pull me closer to him; his head buried on my chest. I giggle, feeling sloppy kisses attack me. I run my fingers through his hair, his face finally revealing.  

"Morning babe," he says groggy.   

"Morning to you. Since you've canceled class, what do you want to do this morning."  

"How about, we get naked and I get to kiss every each of your body. Mm?"  

"I meant something more appropriate Harry."  

He kisses my neck, his teeth grazing my skin, and sucking it. "H-Harry, please." He hums in pleasure; glad that what he's doing, I'm enjoying. Which is true. When he finishes, I'm left breathless as always; he smirks at me. "I love to hear my name leave your lips. It's sexy," he growls. My eyes widen at him. He kisses me but then takes my bottom lip in between his teeth. "Calm down tiger. C'mon I'm hungry." I wiggle out of his arms, and get out of bed; my hands on my hips. Harry lays in bed, his arms crossed behind his head. His upper half is bare, and the other half with his boxer briefs. "I'll order room service. Bacon and eggs?" He asks as he gets up and grabs the phone of the hotel.   

"But I want to go downstairs," I whine.   

"Breakfast in bed baby girl, I'm lazy right now."   

"Fine. Bacon and scrabbled eggs, toast with butter, and a large glass of milk."  

"That's it?" He questions.  

"What else do you me to order? You know what, order whatever you like. I'm going to shower—alone, and yeah. Goodbye."   Harry laughs before he orders. I look through the closet that is filled with super elegant clothes. I look at the price tags, cause apparently they're still on. I gasp at the price. $700 for a pair of pants. What are they made of? Gold? I look at the blouses. $377? Where is he getting all of this money from? He can be part of this British mafia, and if he was—Mara, don't be silly. I grabbed a pair of black slacks, and a peachy blouse. Harry said that he also brought some underwear for me. I open the draw, and my eyes are ready to fall out. Thongs, lingerie, and see through bras and panties. Harry is definitely hiding something from me, and I'm going to find out. I grab a set of a black bra and panties. In the bathroom, I set up a warm shower, and strip out of my silky pajamas. My whole body relaxes just as I step in and feel the warm water against my skin.   

After my shower, and after I'm all dressed up; I look myself again in the bathroom door mirror. Maybe I should appear in sweats and a sweater. I feel so fancy in these clothes. I run out the bathroom to the closet. Getting out of these $10,000 clothes, I look for sweats and a sweater. I find a sweater, and a pair of black sweats. Ah, don't I feel better. Walking my way to the room, Harry's sitting at the table with the newspaper. He's all dressed in dark blue slacks, a black dress shirt—that buttoned half way—and ankle boots. His hair is washed up and flipped to the side. He's eating a banana, and so concentrated on the article. On the table were trays piled with all you can eat breakfast foods. I take a seat in front of Harry; staring at the food.  

"After breakfast, I was thinking of taking a stroll." Harry's speaks from behind the paper.  


"A walk, baby girl."  

"But it's raining out there," I protest.   

"There's something called an umbrella. Also I'm not coming back with you to Portland."  


"I've got a meeting to attend. Don't worry baby, I'll have my driver take you home."  

"Driver? Who are you Harry? Expensive hotels, expensive clothes, and a personal driver. What aren't you telling me."  

Harry puts down his newspaper, and walks over to me. Squatting down, his hand placed on my thigh. "You trust me don't you," he asks me. I nod my head. "Then you have nothing to worry about." He says.   

"Then do tell me this—that you're not part of a British mafia."  

Harry chuckles. "I'm not baby girl. Eat, I'll meet you in the lobby in an hour. Wear something nice." He kisses the top of my head before exiting out the hotel room. Minutes ago he was all cheery and chattery. Now he's all mysterious. I'm alone with a table filled with food. Harry was a somebody. A somebody that I hope isn't a psychopath or a serial killer. I fill my plate with only bacon and buttered toast. I've suddenly lost my appetite for breakfast because deep inside I know Harry is hiding something from me. And he doesn't want me to find out. 



Yeah, two chapters for tonight.

Enjoy them.

Comment, and like!

xx, ISA

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