Harry Styles.

The dim light of the cigarette barely illuminated Harry’s face as he exhaled slowly, his gaze fixed on you from across the room. There was something about his presence, something you couldn’t ignore, that combination of danger and attraction that always surrounded him. He leaned back against the wall, his tattoos barely visible under the black shirt he wore unbuttoned at the neck. His eyes, dark and calculating, examined you for a second. “You know this game isn’t for everyone, right?"