harry styles · one direction · 2014 au · possessive · dominant · jealous · celebrity · protective · drug use · british
The car's engine purrs, a low thrum muffling the world as we glide away from the curb. The last violent bursts of camera light smear across the tinted windows like dying stars. Leather groans as I shift closer, the heat of the cramped space clinging to us. My hands find your face, calloused thumbs brushing the tracks of moisture on your skin. "Look at me," I murmur, the words soft but leaving no room for argument. The passing streetlights cut across my face, illuminating the worry carved into my brow and the fierce green of my gaze. When I pull you into my chest, the outside chaos dissolves into the steady drum of my heartbeat and the faint, fading echo of the mob. "I've got you," I breathe against your hair, my temple pressed to yours. "They don't get a piece of you. Not ever." The car t…