This game is rigged. I watch as Harry sinks another ball into the pocket, with my hands wrapped around my pool cue and rest the front of my chin against the top of it; with the bottom perched between my feet. Show off. He moves around the table, bending over it and splaying his large hand against dark green material; perching the pool stick between his pointer and middle finger and I watch as his muscles in arms flex with the movement of him lining up his shot while his brows crease in concentration. He takes his shot, shooting his last coloured ball into the pocket like it was effortless; leaving only the black ball left over while I stare at the multiple coloured balls I still have on the green table - taunting me. He stands straight from the table, messing his long fingers through his hair and smiles at me "Your turn" "What's the point? You're just gonna kick my ass regardless" I say, shrugging my shoulders and he gives me a playful scowl. I've accepted defeat, I did it the second we started playing and he made it apparent he was some freak pool prodigy. He did this on purpose. I just know it. "Don't think like that, you could still win this" I throw my head back letting out a loud sharp cackle "Ha!" "Right, sure - okay then" I say giving him a sarcastic look. "Would you like me to help you?" he offers, walking around the table to stand in front of me. "Sure - just turn around real quick and ignore the sound of me slapping my balls into the pockets" I reply and he chokes on a laugh at my choice of words. "I meant help you line up your aim better" he says, biting on his lip while the apples of his cheeks lift to crease the corners of his bright eyes. "My aim is fine" I argue and he looks back to my numerous balls on the table then back to me and cocks his brow. Yeah yeah yeah , rub it in why don't you. "Just give me a chance, I'll -" he says but cuts himself off, and I crease my brows when he brings his hand up and grasps my chin to swipe his thumb across it. "You had blue chalk on your chin" he points out when I pull my face back away from him, and he smirks to himself. "Maybe I wanted it there" I say, lifting my brows which only makes his smirk grow and deepen the dent in his cheek. "Sorry, I can put it back if you want?" he offers, pointing his pool cue towards my face. "Nope. It's too late - you've ruined it. It won't be the same" I say, sticking my nose in the air; earning a chuckle from him that seems to light up his eyes over the fact he's getting some playfulness from me. Has to be the vodka. Vodka is probably also why I can't even manage to sink a god damn pool ball to save my life. I was so good at it as a kid, but I guess that talent didn't stick around. Also I'm by no means drunk, just tipsy but smirky over here is sober as a nun. "Just let me help, worst case you still lose and best case you kick my ass at the last minute" he says, watching my face for my reaction. "Fine" I sigh "You'll only keep nagging me until I give in anyway. I'm gonna lose but go on, prolong the inevitable" "You're so optimistic" he teases, resting his cue against the pool table and gestures his head for my to follow him. I walk to where the white ball is sitting at the side of the table and Harry comes to stand behind me. "Alright, bend over" he says, and I whip my head over my shoulder to gape at him. "Excuse me?" He raises his brows, wetting his lips and points to the table "So you can line up your shot - you'll need to bend over" I squint my eyes at him, giving him a suspicious look but decide to just do as he says, knowing that if he tries anything I will promptly crack him straight in the nuts with this pool cue. He steps back as I bend forward and place my hand on the wooden side of the table, placing the pool cue between my pointer and middle finger; keeping my elbow bent as I hold it near the end with my other hand and glare at the white ball like its my nemesis. My whole body goes rigid when I feel Harry lean over me as he comes back up behind me, his chest hovering against my shoulders while his face comes to rest next to mine; his cheek to close to my own I can feel the warmth from his face. His hand slides down my forearm to rest over the top of mine, so the pool cue sits between his own fingers and his other hand wraps my own at the end of the stick. My stomach twists into a knot that tight, it knocks the air out of me and I stay completely frozen - someone being this close to me always makes me panic, and it's only being made worse by the fact it's him. I don't like being close to anyone, but men especially send my nervous system into overdrive. Harry laughs under his breath, noticing how my body has seized up and I don't dare waiver my eyes from staring straight ahead, and grip the pool cue so tight I swear I nearly crushed it. "Relax love, you need to loosen up" he says keeping his voice soft and my heart is accelerating that fast I'd swear it was having a seizure. "I'm relaxed" I lie, my voice squeaking with stress. "I've met statues less stiff then you right now" he says with a dry tone, and I can feel his cheek hit mine when his mouth pulls into a grin.