Perfect ➵ h.s

She doesn't like him, he doesn't like her.
But somehow in the middle of the media perception of two different people, they find each other.


Harry Styles Real Life


4. 3 | "You inspire my inner serial killer."

Songs for this chapter:
-  Dive | Ed Sheeran
- Chandelier | SIA
- Heartless | IM5
- Jet Black Heart | 5 Seconds of Summer


Chapter three.


[Harry POV]


"You're really unpleasant, did you know that?" Indiana slurs and waves a finger at my face. If I didn't dislike her as much as I do, I would probably find her state pretty amusing. But I do dislike her, and I don't find her amusing, so instead of laughing, I roll my eyes and push the door to my house open.

She stumbles on her way in, and I mentally curse Louis out for forcing this babysitting thing down on me. I am no one's babysitter, and I am certainly not this obnoxious and troublesome girl's babysitter.

"I hate you, and I think you're rude." She mumbles and grabs the sleeve of my shirt to balance herself. Again, I roll my eyes but wrap an arm around her waist to guide her to the guestroom, where she apparently has to stay for tonight.

My mind is a bit hazy from the alcohol, but I can think completely straight. I have to drink a lot to become as drunk as she is right now, but I guess she did drink quite a lot, too. I just don't know why. What was is that did, that what I said, affected her the way it did?

Honestly, all I said was that her whole 'I hate One Direction'-act was just that; an act. And she just blew up in my face and called me, in a very strange way, a virgin-chasing like-to-go-down-under guy, and stormed off to the bar. I mean, who does she think she is?

After sitting her down on the edge of the bed, I walk out to the kitchen to get some water for her. I may not like her, but I don't want her to vomit all over my floors. I walk back to the room, hand her the glass and carefully sit down beside her.

She mutters a small thanks and hands me the empty glass back. She is rather beautiful, I won't deny that. But the way she dresses; I can tell it's only to get attention from the opposite sex, probably because she doesn't get much attention from her dad or something. See? I know nothing about her, yet I can tell she's got some serious daddy issues.

To be honest, she's probably just the daughter of some rick bastard, and because she didn't get a certain pony for Christmas, she's rebelling against him and her mother. I bet she's used to getting everything she ever points to. Including men.

"Y'know, you inspire my inner serial killer?" She suddenly remarks and I look at her with raised eyebrows. I can honestly say, that I have never in my life, been talked to that way, ever before. Sure, there's been some mean comments thrown at me here and there, but it was never to my face. People didn't have the guts to admit it to my face, I guess.

But this girl? This girl doesn't seem to care if she might hurt me or make me want to crumble together in tears. Something is definitely off about her.

"Well, that's rude, considering you don't know me," I say back, more harshly than I intended. I guess she brings out a worse side of me. I mean, I'm never really rude to anyone that I don't know. Not even people I do know. I think it's because I know that she won't get hurt by anything I could possibly have to say to her. 

"But I do know you, Harry Styles; the megastar, whose life has been nothing but perfect since he was sixteen. Your birthday is February first, you have a sister named Gemma, your mom's name is Anne, your dad's Desmond and your stepdad's Robin. Shall I go on?" She sarcastically raises a brow at me and sends me a lopsided smirk.

"For someone who hates One Direction, you sure know a lot of stuff about me," I call her out, and as soon as the words leave my mouth, the colour drains from her cheeks and a coldness falls over her brown eyes. 

"I don't hate you, Harry. I'm just not necessarily excited about your existence." She huffs and stubbornly crosses her arms in front of her chest; rolling her eyes in the process of it all. 

 "Yeah, I don't hate you either. I mean, I don't know you, so I can't really hate you." I mumble and tilt my head back; closing my eyes and listening to my blood pump behind my ears. A silence falls upon the room, and the only sounds are our breaths and the light sound of her heartbeat. Nice to know that she actually has a heart. 

I'm suddenly snapped out of my daze, as she suddenly climbs on top of me and straddles my lap. She wraps her small hands around my neck and pushes her lips onto mine. I'm completely caught off guard, and it takes me some seconds to understand what's going on.

Once I do, I push her away and she falls back onto the mattress. I guess she's not used to getting a no because she clearly can't take the hint, as she pulls me down beside her and lets her hand shimmer down my torso. I gently grab her wrist and pull it away from me, muttering a small no.

She groans and rolls her eyes at me, but despite that, I don't make the move to get up from the bed and away from her. I honestly don't know why, I mean, I should be leaving her ass all alone, but somehow, I don't feel the need to.

"I'm not used to being rejected," she whispers after a minute in silence. When I look over at her, she's staring at the ceiling and the fan that keeps going round and round. Her breathing is slow, but you can see her heart beating fast under her skin.

"I figured as much," I whisper back. Usually, I would be ashamed of talking like this to a girl, hell to anyone. But I don't with this ignorant girl, and my point is proven when she laughs and nods at my statement.

"Toucé." A solemn look takes over her features and she closes her eyes; parting her lips and licks them before speaking. "I'm sorry I called you a cherry chasing dot muncher."

"Are you really?" I ask baffled and raise my eyebrows at her. She opens one eye and looks at me with it.

"No, not really, I just figured I'd be somewhat civil." She smiles a small smile, and I can't help but send one back. I know I said that I had her almost figured out, but something about her is off. Like this big part of her is just one big mystery. "The whole One Direction thing is just a tough subject for me, I guess." She whispers and blinks. To what, blink tears away?

"Why?" I can't help but ask. She clenches her jaw and squeezes her eyes shut.

"I just miss her so much, Harry. So incredibly much. But, I left her back in Texas. She's still in Texas." She exhales deeply and looks me in the eyes. She's being irritatingly cryptic, and I can't help but feel the need to know what the hell she's talking about. 

"Who? Who are you missing?" I stumble over my words. My eyes are widened and my mouth agape; intensely waiting for her to spill. But she just sighs and smirks, focuses her eyes on my lips and then back to my eyes. 

"Thanks for letting me sleep here." She smiles and bites her lip. Her brown hair is lying in knots under her head on the pillow, and I can imagine my hair being the same. Her brown eyes are not as bloodshot anymore, and you can tell that she's sobered up a lot since we drove home. Or, my home. This obviously is not her home.

"You're welcome," I whisper and find myself staring at her. She's closed her eyes, again, and her eyelashes are lying thick on her cheeks, which has got a red glow in them. Her full, pink lips are parted, and small snores are leaving her mouth. She's fallen asleep, I know it. 

My point is proven when she turns and nuzzles her head into my chest. My entire body stiffens, but at the same time tingles, at our sudden contact. She looks so peaceful when she's sleeping, and I can't get myself to unlatch her from me, and go to my own bed. 

Instead, I sigh and look down at her. 

I wonder what's going on inside her mind. After the confession she made, I can't help but think, that there's something more to the mystery, that is Indiana than just some rebelling rich kid. She seems far too intelligent, smart-mouthed and...- bruised, to be something as stereotypical as a simple rich kid. 

Maybe the girl she's missing, is her girlfriend? But the way she looked at the males in the club, I can tell it's not the case, but you never know. Maybe she got rejected by her parents and family because she's a homosexual? Maybe she's rebelling because she doesn't have anything else to live for? No one to impress?

Maybe it's a mother? Sister, maybe, that she left back in Texas? Maybe she left and haven't spoken to them since she left. But left for what? College? I mean, she does have that smart-girl thing over her, but at the same time, she doesn't strike me for the type who goes to college. Maybe she already graduated? 

Ugh, I can't handle all of this. She's screwing with my head, and I don't know how to handle it. Normally girls don't hesitate to get to know me and let me know them, granted that's it's usually to end up in my bed later on. But this girl?

She's as closed off as an impossible-to-open bag of crisps, and that's pretty damn closed off. I usually don't have to fight for information when it comes to women; they're all sharing their life stories like a prostitute shares her ladyparts. It's unbelievable. But Indiana, she's impossible. 

I know she was trying to steer clear of the subject when I asked who she was missing, and it only makes me want to know more about her. Normally I'd think that that was her plan; to get me to want to know her, but I don't think this is the case with Indiana. I really don't think she wants me to know anything about her, other than the insides of her mouth. 

When Louis earlier told me, that he had invited a girl he met on the street, I immediately put my guards up. He told me how she was as sassy as they come, and how she repeatedly had told him of her dislike towards One Direction. Of course, I was led to believe that it was nothing but a scheme to make her seem more interesting. I mean, a girl who has no interest what-so-ever in either Louis, Niall, Liam or myself, is - pardon my arrogance when I say this - very hard to come by. 

But after meeting her, I've actually changed my mind. Usually, girls who have the I-hate-One-Direction act up and running, drop after a couple of hours and doesn't hesitate to shove their tongues down your throat and shower you with compliments, but Indiana kept pushing the matter. She kept claiming she hates One Direction. 

Why though? What has One Direction ever done to make her hate us so fiercely? 

With thoughts about unanswered questions and bloodshot brown eyes, floating around my head, I feel myself doze off; still with the sleeping girl's head on my chest, and her legs entangled in mine. 

What have I gotten myself into?




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