I huff, and try to loosen how tense I am; swallowing down a harsh gulp when his hand that's engulfed my own wrapped around the pool cue gives it an assuring squeeze. The fact that he smells so nice isn't helping things, I hate that I like it or that I've even noticed it. Why does he have to smell nice? The prick. "You're still tense" he points out and I roll my eyes. "This is as good as you're gonna get with me smirky, just hurry up" "I doubt that, I can think of a few ways to loosen you up more" he says with a teasing tone and I grit my teeth, going to push myself to stand but he presses his chest against me to stop me. "Say one more thing like that and I'm showing you how good of an aim I can be with this pool cue at a set of balls" I warn. "Well if how you've played tonight is any indication then I'm pretty sure I'm safe" he grins and I press my lips into an annoyed flat line. "Screw you" I mutter, but my nerves fire off through my whole body when he turns his head and hovers his lips near my ear, murmuring with that amused drawl to his voice. "Oh I'd love it if you did" "That's it!" I growl, trying to shove myself back but he keeps his chest pressed against my shoulders and keeps me caged against the table. "Calm down, I'm just playing around. M'sorry, I'll behave" he coos, turning his face back to look at the table. "I fucking doubt that" I mumble to myself; wanting to kick my own ass for agreeing to this. I knew he'd be like this. "Am I making you uncomfortable?" he asks, that playful hint in is voice switching to a sincere tone suddenly. "No you're just irritating" I reply, not knowing how to explain that the sincerity in his voice is actually what just made me uncomfortable. I can handle the crude banter, and fuck boy antics but I can't handle serious moments. "Awe stop it, you're gonna make me blush" he says switching straight back to his cheeky demeanour. Harry flexes his fingers resting on top of mine, then clears his throat "Now, which ball did you want to aim for? You've got plenty of options" "Thanks for pointing that out" I deadpan at the reminder that most of my balls are still on the table. He nudges his cheek against mine, sounding like he's a coach trying to train me "C'mon, concentrate" "I don't care which one" I say, looking at the coloured balls on the table, and not seeing a single one I could actually make a successful shot with "Couldn't sink any of these anyway" He tutts me, clicking his tongue "Of course you won't with an attitude like that. You just need to look at it from a different perspective, there's plenty of shots you could sink with what's there" "Whatever you say Yoda" I tease, wanting to shake my head at how sure of himself he sounds. "What about sinking that purple one into the top left pocket?" he suggests, resting his chin against my shoulder. "I don't see how that's possible" I say, looking at where it's positioned, and have no idea how I'd hit that from where we are with the black ball blocking it. "Anythin's possible" he states, gripping my hand around the pool cue and pulling back and pushing forward in a fluid motion as he works out his aim, until he hits the white ball with a sharp blunt force. I watch as it rolls forward, hitting the other side of the table, to bounce back and roll over the other side, rebounding to roll towards the purple ball and avoiding the black completely until it taps against the purple ball and knocks it into the pocket. Well I'll be damned. "See?" he grins, turning his face and leaning it back to look at me; but I just keep staring at where the ball just went into the pocket, far too apprehensive to look at him while our faces are so close. "yeah yeah yeah, you're a fuckin genius - congratulations" I deadpan; trying to cover for the fact I'm slightly impressed... Slightly. "A genius? Thought I was irritating?" he mocks, leaning his head around to try and make me look at him. "You're an irritating genius - how is this helping me if you're doing it for me?" I ask, still avoiding looking at him and he rests his chin back on my shoulder and I'm wondering when he's gonna let me stand up because he just seems to be getting more comfortable. "Helping you see things differently is help" he replies, and nudges his cheek against mine "And besides, letting someone do something for you is help too" "Isn't the point to do it on my own?" I question, feeling like I'm going to start sweating soon from how close he is. It's making my stomach do weird shit and I don't like it. Unless... I just actually need to poo, which is a possibility. That's what it has to be. He's not effecting me, it's just the burrito I had earlier. "Everyone needs help at some point love" he states. His hand moves from mine wrapped around the pool cue and grasps it, pulling it out of my grip and leaning it against the table to then place both hands either side of me on the table; caging me in with his chest still against my shoulders. .... This is kind of a compromising looking posistion and I can tell smirky is lapping up how my body went stiff again. "Well I don't like help, I like to do things on my own" I say before I can catch myself, nearly biting through my tongue that I admitted something vaguely personal about myself. "Well, that would certainly explain why it's been two years" he teases, tilting his head to watch the side of my face with a damn smirk I can hear in his voice.