Unedited, sorry. I'm knackered from work, Christmas shopping and the mere fact that I like writing in the early hours of the morning and I've destroyed my sleeping pattern, aha!

THE NEXT DAY, I WAS still fuming. My period just had to have been happening just as Harry wanted to screw me. How damn typical. It was as if the world were crashing and burning around me, refusing me the one thing I wanted more than anything else; Harry, and I meant all of him.

"Stupid, fucking period," I grumbled as I entered the ERHA. "Always ruining things. Not just my clothes but my first proper chance of being with Harry."

I entered the repairs office and noticed the absence of Fiona. She'd mentioned something about having the week off and I couldn't have been more thankful. Finally, I didn't have to run around after her doing the silly little jobs she should have been taking care of.

Or so I thought.

"Jane, I don't suppose I could trust you to have these finished by Friday?" Tim asked as he dumped a pile of statistics on my desk. "And could you photo-copy these residents for me please?" He dropped another piece of paper on top.

"All of them?" I almost squeaked, fuming inside. Those are Fiona's damn stats, not mine, Timothy.

"Please?" he begged before wandering back to his office, his half-bald head disappearing through the door.

I groaned. Fantastic. More work to do as well as my own. Not that it would take too much time, but Fiona usually caught up with everything after her holidays no bother - why was I suddenly dumped with all her work? And so, without another option, I began typing away, half of me positively irked by the extra statistics and the other half raging about the night before.

I'd told him - quite awkwardly - that it was my time of the month, and despite desperately wanting him to fúck me, there was no way it was going to happen while I was on my period. That was just a little odd. Thankfully, Harry had completely understood and resorted to kissing me again, his hands moving slowly over my body as if to tease me - as if he wanted to leave me begging for more.

Which, of course had worked.

I craved him, every inch. Just everything about him called to me, his personality, his smile, his scent. He was just happiness. He made me feel happy. When he'd left my home (after joining me for dinner) his presence seemed to still be lingering in the room. I'd still felt his hands on me, when I was doing the dishes, when I was showering, when I was in bed...

Fuckíng period.

As the day dragged on, like it always seemed to do while I was working, I considered buying Harry a cup of coffee for once. I'd never had the chance to do something so little but kind for him yet. That was if you didn't count drawing him and agreeing to go out with him on several occasions. A coffee was still bordering the I-know-we-are-friends thing but also had a tiny hint of we-made-out-last-night-and-I-want-to-be-your-girlfriend. Not too needy, not too subtle. 

However, the thought was soon pushed to the back of my mind as I lifted every piece of paper after successfully copying over the stats onto a chart. It was taking longer than I'd originally hoped and soon I became bored and in need of a little breather. 

I picked up Tim's list from the side and headed for the resources room to photocopy the buggering thing. There had been nothing stopping him from doing it himself while he was on his feet and nothing more than a couple seconds walk away.

The sudden and rather rude thoughts about my boss startled me. I was never usually this horrible to other ERHA colleagues.

Then the unfortunates of last night sprung to mind again and I understood. 

The resources room was empty, as usual. Thankfully no one from up in finance had decided to use up our stock like usual.

But then the door opened and Harry, of all people, entered with a grin.

"Jane, hi," he practically gasped out. I'd never seen him quite so flustered; it almost looked like he'd ran a marathon.

"Harry," I acknowledged, nodding slowly.

Play it cool, Green. Just focus on not jumping his bones and all should be swell.

"I have something to ask you," Harry said before he carefully took a seat at the table. 

"Oh?" I muttered. "What?"

Will you go out with me? Would you officially be my girlfriend? Do you want to shág right here, right now on the photocopier? Would you get down on your knees and take care of my raging hard-ón for me? Would you like to make-out some more?

I had to take a deep breath to properly clear my head from all the outrageous thoughts running rampant up there. How silly. Knowing my luck, I'd blurt something even more embarrassing out. Then I realised that there wasn't really anything else more awkward than declaring your love for someone, especially unknowingly until pointed out. 

"Well, seeing as last night was ... awkward," he started, paused when noticing my blank expression, and tried again with, "Towards the end it was a little awkward."

"Yeah..." I muttered.

"Well, I realised I may have been a little too straight-forward. I hope you were OK with what I was saying, what I was doing and such?"

I nodded a little too quickly and he just flashed me a smile.

"It was perfectly alright, Harry," I assured him. Truthfully, it was more than alright; amazing more like, but of course I kept that to myself. "To be honest, I would have agreed if there hadn't been anything in our way."

"Yeah..." It was Harry's turn to trail off, but then he seemed to remember a vital topic. "Oh, yeah! I came down to ask if you want to try at a relationship?"

"A relationship as in couple relationship?" I asked, slightly baffled. Oh, thank you.

"Yes, but only if you want to ... but I kind of have a feeling you do after what you told me last night," he chuckled and I felt my cheeks flush a little.

I had to clear my throat before answering. "I'd love to, Harry. Is that what you came here to ask me?"

Momentarily, he seemed to be lost for words or just slightly tongue-tied. He wasn't reluctant to ask, was he? If that were the case, I had no reason to feel like the awkward one any longer - it was his choice and I wanted nothing between us to be embarrassing for us.

"Yeah, it was. I realised when I got home last night that I wasn't acting like myself. I'm not usually so crude... I was just a little - well, a lot - turned on. I shouldn't have rattled on about wanting to take you so much or so quickly. I apologise."

Don't apologise - just make sure to actually follow through with it when I'm done.

"Harry, honestly, it's fine," I promised him. "I was all up for it. Oh, God that sounds so needy but it's the truth."

"That makes it a little less weird for me to be freaking out over it so much. I just felt a little guilty for having been so foul-mouthed."

"I liked it," I blurted out before I could stop myself and I instantly had to look away as his emerald eyes locked me in place. Suddenly, it felt like it were only the two of us, not in the resources room, nowhere near the ERHA, not in the centre of London. It felt like us, nothing at all mattering as I looked back round at him and we focused on nothing but each other.

There was something between us and it was undeniable. Whether it was sexual attraction, tension or even just my unrequited love, there was a powerful force which seemed to be tugging us closer and closer. Almost like magnets. And I had absolutely no problem with it.

"Oh, you did?" he asked, mockery in his tone. He was purposely teasing me and he knew it, the wicked grin on his face being all the conclusive evidence I needed.

"Shut up," I giggled, raising my hand to press firmly against his chest as he stood and moved closer to me. I could smell him, touch him, kiss him if I wished.

"Make me," he challenged, raising a brow as he gently pushed my hand out of the way and lifted me gently against the work-top behind. He pushed his torso between my legs until we were directly face-to-face, the cheeky twinkle in his eyes soon dissipating and transforming into something I'd only recently become acquainted with; his lust.

"Harry," I whispered, my hands moving slowly up his front to link around the back of his neck. 

"Mm?" he mumbled before he closed the distance between us and touched his lips to my own. The kiss was short and sweet, almost as if to build the anticipation of our future get-togethers. I hoped for many.

"This is a little risky," I said. "If someone walks in they're going to assume we're up to no good."

"Mm, but we are up to no good," he quietly informed me. Just before I could ask him to clarify what about the situation could be classed as 'no good,' his hands slowly slid up my thighs, to my waist and then to my breasts, his large hands squeezing a little rougher than I think he'd intended. I didn't care; he still managed to coax an aróused sound from me.

"Urgh, stop teasing me," I whispered before I kissed him hard. Our breathing soon became eratic and louder, the tension in the room building - we were both so desperate.

"I like teasing you," he told me, pouting when I pulled away. "I've been subtly doing it for a few weeks to see if you'd notice."

"You have?" I questioned.

"Yep, like at the club especially," he told me. "The way I pressed myself against you and ... held you closely and ... tried my very best to whisper seductivély in your ear. Which horrifically failed, I may add."

Oh, Harry - it really didn't.

"Ah," I said, unsure what else to say. "You're mean."

"I can be very mean," he drawled. "I think you'd like me when I'm mean."

"You're trying to dirty talk me, aren't you?" I guessed as his hips slowly started to grind against me. It felt more heavenly than any other experience I'd encountered. 

"Maybe," he said. "After all, we're supposedly up to no good."

"Indeed," I chuckled before I wrapped my legs around the back of his thighs and pulled his lower half against me. "I'd very much like to get up to no good with you, Mr. Styles."

"Ah, your wish may soon come true," he said.

Trust me, my wish has come true, but not that one. The one where you're mine? Perhaps.

"You never know," I managed to say before he kissed me again.

"Urgh, Jane," he throatily spoke. "I so wish I could fúck you up against the photo-copier."

"I'd love that," I told him, my hands slowly moving up to cup his chin. "I really would."

"Then, I'll make sure we do," he promised, kissing the top of my nose.

This has got to be the best week of my life, I thought as he gently tugged me forward and into his arms.

HARRY AGREED TO LET ME buy him coffee that afternoon, and I couldn't have been more pleased. 

He'd officially asked me out too, and that was probably the most exciting part of my day.

He'd literally asked, "So, do you want to go out with me?"

To which, I'd replied, "Obviously."

And then, for the rest of lunch, we had discussed where we could go, what we could do and what we could see. There were endless possibilities; cinemas, museums, ice-rinks, the zoo, the theatre, going out for dinner, staying in and so on. As it was December and rather chilly, we'd agreed on a good old night-in at Harry's.

He, much to my disbelief, had announced he would cook dinner for us.

"You cook?" I asked.

"I like to think I can," he corrected me. "It's more like I read recipes, try to the best of my ability to make it precisely and then I pray that my guests leave the house without food-poisoning."

I'd laughed, but at the same time couldn't deny the feeling of unease in my stomach. And so, not completely changing the subject, I'd suggested we could order something if he couldn't be bothered to cook. Of course, being the gentleman he was, he'd decided to cook.

That night, I returned home with the biggest smile on my face, a thousand butterflies in my stomach and a burning desire to draw my happiness onto paper. And so I did, the finished result turning out to be Harry, like always; the true source of my content, happy feelings.

I'd been dreaming for months about what our first date would be like, if the situation ever occurred. And now it was definitely going to. Harry and I, on a date. Yes, an indoor meet-up, but that was only because the aftermath was going to be some hot as hell bedroom action. It all seemed a bit surreal.  

No matter how many times I pinched myself, I still believed I was dreaming. Things never usually turned round for me, very few things at least. And now I was with Harry ... kind of. I was going on a date with him. We'd kissed. We were going to make love. We were - hopefully - going to become a couple and my love for him would not only be one-sided. He would love me too, at least a little, I hoped.

Even I know that love takes time and the last thing I wanted to do was put unnecessary pressure on him. I wouldn't do that. I wouldn't hurt him in any way, I'd love him and treat him right. He was beautiful in absolutely every way and deserved the best things in life. There was only one thing I would never do for him, and that was to try and live up to his ex. To Hell with that bitch, I was going to be there for him like she never was.

Just want to say a few things:

One; yes, smut is coming but two; you do not 'need' smut, you want it and three; I love you all.

Thank you all so much for reading this story so far, I'm loving writing it and I'm loving that you're loving reading it! At least I hope you are ... because if you're not, my previous sentence just became a little awkward. But thank you anyway.

Question for you: If this story were to be published, what would you envision the cover to be like?

Cazza