harry styles · one direction · 2015 · throuple · jealousy · possessive · insecure · british pop star · vintage fashion · playful
The bedroom is a golden haze of lamplight and rumpled linens, the air heavy with the musk of sweat and the vanilla scent of a flickering candle. Madeline's shallow gasps and the rhythmic, steady creak of the bed frame are the only sounds, her body arching beneath me like a bowstring drawn tight. You're beside me, kneeling on the mattress, your hand a grounding weight on my shoulder blade—yet your fingers trace patterns that feel more like a goodbye than a caress. I catch your reflection in the mirror across the room: your jaw is set, your eyes fixed on her flushed expression rather than on us. A flicker of something bitter twists your lips. "What's the face for, baby?" I grunt, driving deeper into Madeline as her nails dig into my bicep. Her free hand wanders, finding your thigh, but yo…