"You aren't attracted to me" I point out, which earns a raise of his brows at how sure of myself I sound "You're attracted to the challenge because I'm so disinterested - that's if you had any inclination towards me at all, which you don't, but if you did that would be the reason." "So you think I don't find you attractive?" he asks, looking somewhat confused but curious at the same time at my train of thought. "Yep." I answer without missing a beat. He purses his lips, creasing his brows further, before shaking his head and laughing under his breath. "Maybe you are actually blind" What is that suppose to mean? My brows drop as I frown but he doesn't give me a change to reply. "And you're wrong, by the way. I actually hate challenges" he says, not sounding at all offended by my assumptions, more so just stating his own facts. He wets his lips, tilting his head as he looks down at me with lazy eyes "I'm not interested in persuading someone to want me. I much prefer willing and consenting partners, anything other than doesn't interest me in the slightest" "Well, if that's the case you're definitely not interested in me" I tell him, leaning back as he leans forward, looking at me like I'm some intricate puzzle he's trying to piece together. "And why is that?" I shrug my shoulders, keeping my voice factual "Because I don't want you" He sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, placing his hand over his heart in mock agony "Ouch, you really are a heartbreaker aren't you?" His exaggerated pained expression morphs into an amused lazy smile, and I can't figure out what he finds so entertaining about all of this, but that fucking smirk is getting on my last nerve. "I'm a real ball breaker too, want me to show you?" I ask with a sweet smile, raising my brows. "Actually, yeah I do" he says, leaning back casually with his palm still rested on the counter. I look at him confused, not expecting that answer "What?" "I'd like you to show me whatever you want about yourself, you're intriguing. Wanna get to know you - can't figure you out" he explains, watching me as if I were a foreign language he's trying to figure out how to translate. I blink at him in even more confusion, as if there's literally shit dripping from his lips. Why could be possibly want to get to know me? I think I find that idea far more nauseating than when I thought I was a vagina with a heartbeat he was trying to fulfil his ego with. "There's nothing to figure out, and I'm not interesting - so I'd save yourself the disappointment" I dismiss, feeling uneasy again when he gives me that stare that looks like his eyes are literally trying to have sex with my own. I genuinely feel like he needs condoms for his eyes. "No you're a mystery sweetheart, I hate challenges - but I love mysteries" I scoff, rolling my eyes; having absolutely no interest in entertaining whatever he's trying to do "Then go play a game of who'dunnit and leave me out of it" He drums his fingers against the counter, before pointing at me with a knowing look, squinting, but it's still extremely cheeky. "You don't like making friends do you?" the question sounds more like a lighthearted accusation, a rhetorical question he doesn't need the answer to. "I think being friends is the last intention you have with me" I say flatly, wondering when this conversation is going to end so I can just go back to the room, and not sleep again for another night. He slides his hands into the pockets of his absurdly tight jeans low on his narrow exposed hips, and I could slap myself when my eyes dart down briefly at the action to watch it; his large hands disappearing and outlined under the dark fabric with his thumbs hooked over the outside of the pockets. I snap my eyes back to his face as soon as I notice how the indents of his hips carve into his skin, dipping perfectly to trail into the top of his briefs peeking over the black denim, and it's very apparent he noticed my brief glance, chewing on the corner of his lower lip fighting a smug smile. "Don't be so quick to judge people's intentions, I think I might surprise you" he says, sounding coy and like he's aware of some secret that I'm clueless about. "And what exactly are your intentions with me?" I question, trying to keep a wary distance but I feel my stomach drop like a sack of bricks when he takes a stride forward to stand directly in front of me, towering over me so close our hips are nearly touching. "You really wanna know?" he asks, keeping his tone ambiguous while he bends at the knees slightly, to lean down to my eye level "Guess you're gonna have to try and find out - would you like a hint? I can think of a few I'd like to give you." I groan, pinching my eyes shut to try and break that damn devil magic he does with those serpentine eyes; leaning back to create some distance and my voice becomes tight with frustration "Look smirky, it's late, I'm fucking tired and I do not have the energy for you to be a human crossword puzzle. We aren't friends, we aren't going to be friends; so find someone else to play your games with" I open my eyes to see Harry just watching me fondly, which makes me think he's even more insane than I am. He traces his eyes over my annoyed face, before smiling to himself and talking sweetly as if I hadn't just sounded like I wanted to strangle him. "Go get some sleep, I'll see you in the morning" he says a little too cheerfully, and nods in the direction of the sun room "Your boyfriend's probably wondering where you are any way" I press my lips into an annoyed flat line at his insistence of referring to Gizmo as my boyfriend now, a teasing reminder of the obvious lie he caught me red handed in that he obviously isn't planning on letting me live down the embarrassment from. He only gets more of a kick out of my unimpressed expression, smiling with the tip of his tongue caught between his teeth, flashing his dimple. I turn on my heel, huffing and not planning on verbally replying to him, but my few short steps are halted when his hand grasps the material in the middle of the back of the shirt he coerced me into, gripping it into his fist as he tugs me backwards, sending me tumbling back; my shoulders hitting his bare chest. He releases the shirt, moving his hands to hold my waist as he leans his face down, tilting his chin down while he watches the side of my face and I stare straight ahead in shock; wondering what the hell is going on. His low drawl comes out soft, sweet and taunting at the same time. "But just remember love, you also said you weren't going to be staying here or wearing my shirt - if this were a game, I'd be winning" I feel like I'm going to choke on my tongue as I will my brain to start working, to spring into action and tell him where to go, elbow him in the ribs - something, but it's just stunned into static. He nudges the tip of his nose against my cheek faintly, and I can hear the self satisfied tone in his voice over how incapacitated I am currently. "Sweet Dreams darling" he coos, flexing his fingers against my skin through the thin material covering it before he pulls away and walks off without another word, the only sounds I can hear are my own shallow anxious breathes and his footsteps against the hardwood towards the staircase. If only he knew how ironic saying that last phrase was to someone like me. I hate to break it to him, but this is a game he will not be winning, because I am not playing.