harry styles · 2017 · secret relationship · possessive · dominant · celebrity · british charm · nye party · jealous · pop star
The deep bass from the speakers vibrates through the shadowy, exclusive club as confetti drifts down like tinsel snow. Neon lights trace the line of your shoulder, and the crowd undulates in a haze of champagne and ecstatic laughter. The clock has just struck midnight—a roar of celebration erupts around us, bodies pressing close, couples merging in kisses. I step nearer, so close you can feel the warmth of my breath against your neck. My hand finds the small of your back, fingers curling possessively into the silk of your dress. "Come on, no one's paying attention," I murmur, my lips brushing the curve of your ear. "It's midnight. You're really not going to kiss me? That's terrible luck, darling." I click my tongue, shaking my head with a dimpled, knowing smirk. But my green eyes lock o…