Harry
He is following me.
Why?
He watches me and doesn't even have an ounce of guilt on his face. Almost like he doesn't give a shit that he was caught. I am not drunk yet, but I am at the edge of being drunk. My heart races as he takes a step towards me, on reflex, I take a step back. His lips quirked upwards. He knows the effect he has on me--fuck, he must have this kind of effect on everyone.
You can't blame me for reacting this way, this man is gorgeous, and he knows it. He knows how beautiful he is, and he is taking advantage of that.
"Why are you running?" he smiles seductively.
I roll my eyes "I am not running.''
His smile widens.
I don't know what he is thinking. I don't understand why he is here and what he wants from me. I asked him to come up last night and he treated me like I was contagious and now he is here, following me.
It doesn't make any sense.