Complicated Love

Harry and Charlotte are in love and it should be just as simple as that. However, after keeping their love a secret from her disapproving parents for so long, everything is starting to change. As Charlotte's mother decides it's time for her to grow up, she finds her an eligible suitor, Louis Tomlinson, and Charlotte is faced with a difficult choice. Will she stay with the man she loves or will she be forced to let him go? Either way, there are going to be consequences.

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4. Sneaking out

It was a crisp, dark night as the moon hid behind a few thin clouds, layering the sky as if they were a blanket to keep it safe from the chill. Of course, it was cold, the winter air drawing nearer and nearer with each passing second. I tried not to notice the clear change in climate from the earlier bikini weather, though I was forbidden to wear so little clothing in the presence of others, now daunting and bleak. It was as if even nature itself was warning me.

It took me less than a minute to sneak past the security guard that stood by my house gates. I had been sneaking out for such a long time now that it had become effortless on my behalf and I had stopped getting the thrill I used to get, when Harry and I first started to date.

The wind started blowing heavier as I walked down the empty road towards the park and I was overly thankful that I hadn’t chosen to wear my skirt. Instead I had picked my blue skinny jeans, ripped with an inside layer of lace, and a burgundy loose tank top under my black leather jacket. It was safe to say that I had gone all out with my make-up and, undeniably, I looked hot.

Harry was stood with his back against the wall as smoke poured out of his mouth, swirling around him in the air. His eyes were closed, his jaw tight, as he inhaled the sweet taste of lung cancer. I stood back and watched him. That’s what I often did. I would just stand back for moment or so to take him in, him and his poor stature, him and strong torso, him and his whole breathtaking image.

The cigarette once more made its way between his parted lips and he let his tongue roll over it with an intake of breath before he tugged it away again with his long fingers. Smoke filled the air around him all over again but he never so much as coughed. I guess, just as with my sneaking out, he had just grown used to it.

“How long are you going to stand there?” He prompted his question at me but he didn’t turn his attention off the cigarette. I didn’t answer him. I merely swept forward over to him and rested against the wall beside him. He pushed the cigarette towards my face, like always, as if he was asking me if today would be the day I took a drag. I shook my head. I was smart and knew the effects the cigarettes had on the body and it wasn’t worth it, no matter how much hotter I would look with one in my mouth.

Harry eventually turned round to look at me after taking yet another puff of smoke. With his emerald eyes searching mine, though for what I do not know, his mouth came closer towards mine but he paused by way of asking permission. I stepped up onto my tiptoes and he gladly wrapped his arm around my back, planting a tender kiss on my lips. It was a sweet gesture, which wasn’t always seen by Harry, his kisses usually involving endless tongue colliding and body fondling, so I loved it even more so in its rarity.

“You look hot,” he uttered but, of course, I already knew that. I had done it purposely.

“You look smoking,” I said and a slightly smirk approached his face and he cast his cigarette off to the floor, stamping out the light.

“Puns are bad.”

“Smoking is bad,” I whispered as I moved closer to him, my arms falling around his neck. “I am a very selfish person and I would quite like to keep you those extra few years you are smoking away.”

“You can keep me,” he gave me another quick peck on the lips, “in a box.” He smirked again but this time it was wider, almost if he was fine with the fact that he would be dead in a box on my mantelpiece. I pouted at him but he just laughed it off.

“You’re cute when you pout.”

“Well, I’ll be sure to do it more often then.”

“Shall we walk?” He untangled my arms from his neck and took my hand in his. I could feel the rough skin around his palm but I didn’t mind, it was kind of nice, in a weird way, as it moved over my soft skin that I could tell he was enjoying the feel of, his thumb lightly grazing mine.

I can’t explain to you how Harry made me feel. It was like my whole life I knew I had been missing something, something important. I had always assumed it was my freedom from my over daunting parents and for a while I led myself to believe that I was locked in some metaphorical cage that I couldn’t escape from.

In my childhood, I was deprived of many things, though some might argue the opposite, and though I had money and a profitable future, it wasn’t all I wanted from life. I never even had a real friend growing up, never mind a best friend, and the way my parents loved me was different to the way the other children’s parents loved them. I could tell by the way their parents hugged them when they picked them up from school as I climbed into the car my parents had sent for me.

And whether or not it was those things that I was missing in life, either way I knew Harry made up for them. Harry was my freedom, and he was my best friend, and he was all the love I could possibly ever need.

And every night I prayed to god that it would stay that way.

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