Naked


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3. Maybe I'm a Lesbian

Rocking on the balls of my feet, I eye the clock anxiously. Five minutes to break. I cross my legs tightly, trying hard to ignore my screaming bladder, earning little success.

Why did I have to settle for the extra- large iced coffee?

Each minutes drags by painfully. When it finally creeps to the three, I throw myself over the counter, walking as quickly and as casually as someone about to explode can.

"Kay!" I whip around, finding my self face to face with a sweaty blonde.

"Oh" I definitely could've come up with a politer greeting, but words slink low into my gut. Damon loops an arm around my hip

"Hey, babe" he says with low audacity. "Can we talk?"

"Um" I hesitate. "I guess". He sighs, trying to pull me into the office, but I keep my feet planted firmly in the public eye.

"Look" he says, taking my hands in his. I'm so sorry about last night I get jealous to easy.

"Kay? I love you"

"Damon, I think we need to stop" I release a tense burst of air from my lungs.

"You're breaking up with me" he says as though he can't believe it.

"Yeah" I bite my bottom lip. "Lasts night was kinda the last straw."

"I'm sorry Kay it was a mistake." "Leave me alone" I year my wrist from his bruising grip.

"Kay don't really I know I messed up, just give me-"

"No" I declare firmly. He grabs me. "Go away!"

"Listen here-"

"She said go away." We both raise our heads to the figure standing across the corridor. A tall, lean boy stands with curls tumbling around his statued face.

"This doesn't concern you man" Damon replies sharply. Harry's eyebrows shoot up.

"It doesn't?" He inquires stepping forward.

"Back off" Harry snaps his fingers in his obnoxiously. "Wake up it's over she's saying goodbye."

For his first part, Damon looks terrified of the curl-framed sneer jeering in his face. Not that I blame him. I decide to pipe up. "Goodbye Big Daddy. I don't want Big Daddy." I nod satisfactorily, wiping the stress swear from my brow. Harry blinks.

"You feeling okay?" He asks under his breath, prying Damon's fingers from my arm. I nod.

"Kay can we talk about it?" Damon crinkles his forehead making him look a little like a wrinkly-face pig. Not as adorable as you might think. I cluck.

"No."

And with that, he stalks away, hanging his head low. At the end of the hallway he turns around to glare at Harry and, in turn, me, then disappears past the corner. I release a deep breath I wasn't aware I'd been holding, inhaling again for a lungful of Harry's musky scent. It smells amazing and is making me a little dizzy.

Without another moment of hesitation, I dive into the washroom, locking the stall behind me. I emerge minutes later, Harry resting patiently against the wall for me.

"You alright?" He swings an arm around my shoulder, giving mr another overwhelming whiff of sweet muskiness.

"Uh, yeah" I mumble, maybe the tiniest but shaken up. "I'm good."

"Good" Harry doesn't smile, but I can sense his relief. "That guy's kinda an ass, isn't he?"

My mouth stay shut.

"You hungry?" Harry asks. I decided against mentioning that I am always hungry, no matter the situation, time of day, or who I'm with.

"I could eat" Under statement of the century. "It is my lunch break so I probably should."

"What time do you have to go back at?"

"One" I twist his wrist to examine his Rolex. "Friday afternoons I work from one to four at the front desk with Da-" I catch myself before I finish his name. "Oh" the boy frowns.

"Do you have to go back?" We step into the restaurant, marching towards the buffet tables dutifully. "Like that'd be pretty awkward, wouldn't it?"

"Absolutely" I snort, piling my plate high with pasta. Harry reaches for a slice of pizza.

"Can you get out of it?" He watched me gravitating to the fries. "Like switch with someone or ditch something? I don't like the idea of you two alone for two hours like that." The caring slugs me right in the stomach with a massive fluffy boxing glove. Butterflies scatter, my toes curling into my feet as I clench my lower lip between my teeth to hide the smile.

"I have half an hour I point out. I'll figure it out while I eat." Hauling my tower of food to a table, I sit across from Harry, shoveling my face with all I can fit on one fork. He watches me, opening his mouth as if to tease me, then swallows his tongue as he changes his mind at the last minute,clearing his throat instead. His smoldering green eyes meet mine, melting my legs into jelly. I'm suddenly self-conscious about the amount of lunch I am scarfing down to a normal pace. A very painful normal pace.

My plate is already half empty by the time either of us say another word, which happens to be exact same time.

"I can't go to work" spills from my mouth just as "spend the time with me" is pronounced over too. We both laugh silently.

"Okay" I say biting my bottom lip.

"You aren't going to get in too much trouble for ditching?"

I shrug. "Probably not you know, first offense."

"Okay" he smiles. "Then we'll do something fun this afternoon."

"Fun?" I repeat. "What's your idea of fun?"

"You don't want to know" he laughs, and I chortle nervously. "No, no ,we'll go swimming of something."

"Oh." I'm confused. "Um alright! Just not at the pool. Someone might see me." I frown. "See me skipping, I mean. Not swimming, I guess. It's not like I swim naked or anything. No, I definitely do not swim naked. Unless you wanted to, then the answer is still no." I clamp my mouth shut to stop the words from bursting, my cheeks burning the color of cherries in the tropical drinks Dad serves. Thankfully, Hardy doesn't mention my rambling. The boy swallows the last of his lunch, hauling himself to his feet. After jamming his napkins in the rubbish bin and gulping the rest of his Pepsi down an astounding four seconds, he towers above me with his hands in his hips.

"I'm going to get my bathing suit on" he stated in his usual quiet demeanour. "Meet you at the beach in twenty?"

"Okay" I turn back to my shrinking mound of food, returning to scooping the grease-caked garlic bread I snatched into my gaping mouth by the handful. I'm finished in minutes. I dispose of the crumbs and trudge out of the dining hall, stopping myself just before I march stupidly through the lobby and past the front desk. Settling instead for an emergency exit, I jog towards home, half heartedly hoping to burn off a portion of the extreme amount of calories I just inhaled, but at the same time, not really caring. Soon I'm in my bedroom, searching in my closet for my bathing suit. I haven't gone swimming in a long time, and it looks a bit like nuclear bomb went off in here, as cleaning my room basically consists of shoving all the crap I can into my closet until the doors hardly close and the floor is visible.

If Harry invited me to go swimming to see me in some skimpy bikini- which I'm assuming he did- he is going to be very disappointed. The stores on the island are far too expensive for anyone without a record deal or their own reality tv show, so I still have the same bathing suit from years ago; a boring black one piece and short green boarder shorts I don't care enough about anything to do something other than pull it on and fasten my hair back in a ponytail, snatching a towel out of the cabinet before making my way down the snaking trail.

Harry is already there, short blue trunks suspended from his narrow hips. His hands rest by his side, toned, tanned, and blush-inducing. And, oh, don't even get me started on those lean muscular legs. I swallow visibly as I eye his firm stomach for second time, peeking down at my own waist bulging from the top of my waistband. If he notices, he's enough of a decent human being to keep his green eyes planted firmly on my face, smiling brightly as I approach.

"Hey" he greets me, waving a hand towards the crystal blue waves. "Is it cold?"

I snort. "Course not!" Dropping my towel, I trek straight down the gentle slope, the water rising higher up my thighs until I plunge straight in. When I surface, I spot Harry following suit. Soon he's beside me, all submerged but his chocolate curls. He clenched his eyes shut while taking in a puff of air, then ducks under. Gentle fingers trail along my legs, earning a screech. He pops up with a cheeky grin, wiping the dripping water from his cheeks and chiseled dimples.

"Why'd you do that?" I splash him right in face, laughing, catching him off guarding and successfully filling his lungs with burning salt water. As he coughs and sputters, I panic internally for a moment.

Way to go stupid, you're killing the hottest boy who has ever looked your way.

I'm milliseconds away from jumping in with the Heinrich when he grows silent, smirking above the crystals sea.

"Funny little, thing aren't you?" He chuckles to himself. "God, my insides are burning."

"Funny little thing?" I repeat, confusion stirred. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Harry floats aimlessly on his back, tattoos glimmering wryly in the sparkles of sunlight. "I don't know, you're just interesting."

"Interesting?" I bite my tongue as I realize I am continually parroting him. "How so? I'm pretty sure I'm the farthest thing from interesting."

"That's the thing" he says. "I just find you fascinating. There something about you, this normal, ordinary girl, treating me like normal, ordinary guy, and it's just so... interesting. I can't think of any other word to describe it." He hesitates. "I like it."

I furrow my brow. "Now I don't know where you come from, but here in the world of boring unfamous people, we're all normal. If we weren't, we wouldn't be unfamous or boring."

Now it's his turn to be confused. "I don't understand."

"I'm normal" I bite my lip, trying to arrange the words crashing in my head. "I'm normal and I'm boring and you're not normal and you're famous and amazing. You're the one that's fascinating ."

"Ah" Harry clicks his tongue. "My love, you're mistaken. 'Famous' isn't an antonym for 'normal'. Just because I might not live an average life does not mean I am not normal." He lowers his voice. "I'm more normal than most, probaly, people just don't like to think of me that way. They like to treat me like I'm more than normal, but if people got to see me out of the lights and off of the stage, I think they'd be almost disappointed by normal ness."

"There's nothing normal about greeting random maids whilst in your birthday suit."

"True" his laughter echoes over the rumbling ocean against the sand. "I suppose that's not normal. But the tattooed, horny teenager who happened to sing a nice song and get lots of money."

It's silent for a long time, just the two of us letting the waves carry us, bobbing up and down in the warm waters. Finally, I speak up.

"That's actually really cute, Harry, how you think you're normal."

"What?" He sits up with the most adorable expression of confusion and concern. Concern for what I don't know. His dignity, I suppose.

"I'm like, ninety-nine percent sure you're an alien" I state and his laugh rolls towards me softly.

"Yeah?" He asks. "I'm intrigued allow me to bask in your absurd theory."

"Alright, point one," I declare, pulling myself to beside him and staring up straight into his eyes. "You just said, and I quote; Allow me to bask in your absurd theory. No normal teenaged boy that I've ever met would ever say that."

He weighs my input thoughtfully. "Touché."

"And the curls!" I throw my arms up in the air, getting really into it now. "And the dimples! My oh my! That kind if hotness is just unrealistic by humanistic standards!" The second the words slip out of my mouth, I duck beneath the water to hide my fire truck face, cursing myself as to why I said that. Of course, hiding underwater was definitely not the best idea I've had, as I need to breathe eventually, so after a good thirty second, I tentatively poke my face into the wind, inhaling quickly and diving under again.

Then I remember he's still standing right there.

Fuck my stupidity and awkwardness.

Fuck his gorgeous littles smile and sipping hair sending drips down his TONED ABS.

Just fuck everything

"I'm sorry" I finally say once I've caught my breath. "I most often act without thinking." He waves my words away with the back of his hand in small gesture.

"That was cute" he replied simply, the chili peppers in my cheeks erupting once again. "I mean, yeah, a little weird but cute." I silently pray that he thinks blushing is cute, because I'm beginning to look like I've got a permanent sunburn. "I act on impulse often as well."

"Oh yeah?" Though we haven't been in the water for long, the warm water to feel slightly chilly. Not enough to be considered cold, but enough for the discomfort to expose goosebumps along my water my arms. Harry notices, wrapping his hands around my biceps and pulling me towards shore.

"Yeah" We sit down the beach, sand clinging to our wet bodies. "I don't think rationally and I do stupid things far too often." He play with his hair, and I desperately wish that I could run my fingers through his damp curls.

Do you know what would be a stupid, impulsive thing to do right now? Kiss me. Haha, you know, just saying.

Harry just shook his head. "Just stupid stuff."

"Is that why you're here?" I can't stop nosy question. He releases a tense sigh.

"Yes, Kay" he says quietly. "I'm here because I did something stupid impulsive and needed some time to get away."

"Oh."

"You know you could just type my name into Google and find out everything you're curious about, right?"

"I don't want to do that though" I wrinkle my node. "I'd rather hear the truth from you than some bullshit from some bigoted site."

Harry is silent for a long time. Too long. I jab at his arm, tugging him from his distracted reverie. A smile starting at the edges of his lips creeps into full beam.

"God" he says. "And I thought you couldn't get any more perfect." Before I can react, he catches my wrists in his hands, sand grinding against my skin beneath his palms. I'm hauled to my feet against his solid, wet chest. "Dance with me."

"Dance?" I repeat, shocked, and still startled by his previous statement. "Harry, dancing on a beach together without music is by far the cheesiest thing you could ever possibly suggest."

He wiggles his eyebrows. "So?"

"No way" I roll my eyes, stepping away from him, treading footprints into soft white sand as I trek back towards the ocean. If he is disappointed, it isn't evident.

We spend a few hours swimming, talking and laughing in the waves. By half past three, we're both tired and our limbs feel numb and wrinkly like plump purple raisins. We crawl up on land, bundling ourselves in our hot towels.

"That was nice" Harry says, tousling his wet hair.

"Yeah" I agree. "It was."

It's awkward for a minute, silence clouded with crashing waves. Green eyes meet brown.

"See you later?" Harry smiles, and all I can do is force a nod, transfixed in his gaze. God, he's attractive. We both depart our separate ways.

Thankfully, my cabin is deserted. As all the staffers are forced to share the shower, we don't have a full bathroom, and the odds of running into someone are too great to risk heading over to rinse off the burning salt. I towel off the best I can, then let my hair down and change into simple denim capris and t-shirt.

Settling into the couch, I flip on the television, flipping through channels until I finally reach something that looks semi- decent; some cake show I've never heard of. Minutes in, my stomach rumbles audibly, and I trudge to the fridge, rummaging through to find absolutely nothing delicious. I toss a mould lay piece of chocolate cake dad snagged from the kitchen but had never eaten into the trash, noticing the bin overflowing. The white garbage bag drips as I drag it outside, tying it and leaving it at the bottom of the steps to be disposed of later. When I get back inside, I snatch a cola and a bag of chip crumbs sinking into the sofa once again. Soon my eyes drift shut, pulling me away from the show and into a gentle nap.

I dream of Harry.

I don't know why, but I do.

"Dance with me, Kay" he begs, his deep voice and perfect accent whispered into my ear softly, tickling my cheek. His fingertips are burning against my waist, pulling me close to him. "Please."

His arms wrap around me, his large hands sneaking to my chest as he turns me around, planting his lips roughly against me.

I never want to pull away.

So I don't.

I wake suddenly from the perfect dream when there's a creaking in the other room. My disappointment of the disappearing moment erased immediately as I note dad's shoes missing by the door and someone definitely rummaging in the other room.

"Hello?" I call groggily, pushing myself from the chesterfield and creeping down the hall to my gaping bedroom door.

I poke my head into the room, it seeming deserted at first glance. A scream slips from my lips as finger at grasp my wrist, pulling me backwards into the hallway.

"Shh, it's okay Kay" the heavy British accent most definitely not Damon. Harry smiles apologetically down at me. "Didn't mean to freak you out love."

"Uh" I say "what are you doing here?"

"I was bored" Harry shrugs his broad shoulders. "So I came to find you."

"Why are you in my room though?"

He rolls his back. "I told you. I was bored." He pronounces it as though the statement offers even the slightest explanation, which of course, it doesn't.

His green eyes catch mine, and suddenly everything is too overwhelming. Dimples, curls, curls, abs, long legs, strong arms, back muscles. A wave of heat rushes over me, an invisible force tangling my legs towards him. Hands that don't feel like mine bury themselves in his hair, pulling him to me.

As my body molds itself to him, my brain panics. But maybe it's because of the dream, or the way the stars are aligned, or the afternoon at the beach, or the way the sun spills through the window and catches in the tips of his curls, but my mouth is suddenly against his. He's limp, then after a millisecond, he's kissing me back, pulling closer and closer, tightening his arms around my hips.

I pull him to the bed, pinned beneath him as his hands brush down my sides, sending shivers down my spine and making me ache for more. His lips are still locked with mine, his hands beginning to explore. He's electric, balancing above me with his eyes jammed shut, nose beside mind as we're as close as ever before.

I want this.

Do I ever want this.

His green eyes find mine, our lips parting for a moment as he leans heavily over me. His breath escaped in hot puffs, curls tickling my forehead.

"Harry..." The words slip from my lips, drawing a smirk onto his pink lips. Before I can think, I'm tugging my shorts by the belt loops towards my toes. He stretches above me, trailing his warm hands along my stomach, tickling up below my t-shirt and brushing my goosebumps with a long thumb.

"Do you want this?" His eyes drop to my underwear, meeting my gaze after a moment. I bite my lip.

"Yes" I reply breathlessly, fumbling for the fringed bottom of his shirt. "I want this, Harry."

He stares at me. "I don't know..."

"You don't want to?" I ask, shuddering as his fingers brush my thighs. Harry watches my eyes drop to the lap of his jeans.

"You know I want to Kay" he smirks as a blush brushes across my cheeks. "I think that's obvious enough. And usually I would gladly have sex with an attractive girl who wants me but..." He pauses, releasing a soft sigh. "I don't know you just seem so... innocent. And we only met two days ago..."

I snort. "It's my body Harry. I want to do this." My fingers loop themselves in his t-shirt, straining to pull it free. He delicately pried my hands from his article if clothing, pressing a ginger kiss to my temple.

"I'm here for twelve more days" he states. "Think about it. If you still want to in a couple if days, we'll do it. Deal?"

I puff out a frustrated breath, the boy still testing above mr, hot against my trembling body.

"Fine" I stubbornly blow the word from my lips. He chuckles

"Don't look so disappointed, love" his voice rasps in my ear. "It's not even going to be all that great your first time."

"How do you know it's my first time?" I admire the brief flash of surprise in his usual calm eyes. He shrugs. "Fine you're right. It would be my first time." I narrow my eyes at him. "I'm really not as innocent as you think though." I twist onto my knees to paw at the bulge of his pants.

"What are you doing?" He laughs uncertainly. My fingers fumble for the zipper, sliding the button out and truffling the tight denim down his thighs.

"Proving you wrong" I reply. Truthfully, he was probably right. I had no idea what I was doing. The closest time I'd ever come to arc was few times I'd been close with Damon, and the only things I really knew were from what I learned in health class and that one time I accidentally visited a dirty website. Oh, and that one dreadful time Papa and Dad forgot to lock their door, but I try not to think about that.

So really, I am pretty innocent compared to some, but for an unknown reason, I feel I have to prove Harry wrong

He smiles down at me in only his boxers and shirt, cocking curious eyebrow. I tentatively tug at his waistband, inhaling sharply as they slide down his slim legs.

I've never been so close to IT

Maybe not being able to say the word means I'm not ready for this, but I stare it straight in the face regardlessly. It stands large and tall, poking up like the Eiffel Tower.

Harry noted my expression and brushes my hair back gently. "It's okay, my dear, you definitely don't have to." Somehow I take his words an encouragement, and I use it to gather the strength to touch it.

Not like, sensual or pleasurably, more like I'm poking a dead animal with a stick.

Maybe I'm a lesbian.

Should I put my mouth on it? The thought sends shivers through my shoulders. No, I'm definitely not up to that yet.

Instead I bravely wrap my fingers around it, exhaling with relief when I find it isn't slimy or grimy. It just feels like skin. I begin to stroke, gently, peering up at Harry for his reaction.

He just smiles, almost like he's making fun of my extreme failing. Furrowing my brow in concentration, I begin to pump harder. After about a minute of my hand growing number and number by the second, he finally emits a tiny grunt. Whether it's due to how I'm doing or if it's just forced to make me feel a little better, it pushes me to work harder.

I'm starting to really get into it when the front door slams, my hands grinding to a halt.

"Kay?" My fathers feet pad to my closed bedroom door. Harry's eyes widen, searching desperately for a place to hide.

"Go!" I mouth, gesturing to the closet. He fives in and I pull the door closed quickly.

"Yeah?" I drop into bed with the blankets up to hide my bare legs and flip open a magazine just as dad shuffles in. He eyes me suspiciously before lowering himself down beside me. My face forms the most innocent smile I can muster, but it just draws a startled expression from my father.

"Uh" he says. "I was wondering if you wanted to go to the restaurant for dinner tonight. I'm getting a little sick and tired of microwave pizza."

"Me too" I agree, nodding vigorously. Too vigorously.

"Is something wrong?" Dad scrunches up his eyes in his concerned-parent kind of wat. I nod again, then immediately realize what I'm saying and switch to extreme head shaking. My brain knocks in my skull, dizziness blurring my vision.

"Okay" Dad frowns. "Be ready at seven."

"Okey dokie!" My tone is overly- enthusiastic. I am a terrible liar. He stands up and heads back towards the door, freezing halfway.

"Kay?" He whips around. "Whose jeans are these?" His finger jabs towards the ground and my breath hitches. Harry's jeans lie crumpled on the ground, incriminating and guiltless. I blurt the first thing that comes to mind.

"Those are mine!" I cry anxiously. "I'm going to wear then tonight." I wonder if he can see the liters of sweat pouring off me. He stares at me for a long time, then smiles.

"Oh. I've never seen them before. It's going to be hot out" he scoops the pants up and tucks them under his arm. "And these look worn. I was going to a load of laundry anyway. Why don't you pick a nice skirt?"

"Uh, okay" I say as he disappears with Harry's jeans, waiting as he whistles, gathering dirty clothes to bring to the staff washing station. He scavenged for articles to wash for a minute until the front door slams. I leap out of bed and throw the closet open, Harry teetering pant less on an enormous stack of junk.

"You really should clean up in hear once in a while" he remarks thoughtfully. I roll my eyes.

"Sorry about that..."

"About what?" Harry questions, narrowing his eyes. "About your messy closet? About your father walking in? About how you just jumped on me and suddenly both our pants are gone, even though I only met you yesterday and I didn't think you liked me that way?"

"Um" I hesitate. "I guess all three." Inhale. "I-don't-really-know-what-came-over-me-there-and-I'm-really-sorry-because-that-was-super-inappropriate-on-my-part-and-I-honestly-really-do-not-know-what-happened-like-it-was-just-really-spur-of-the-moment-and-now-you-probably-really-understand-what-I-meant-earlier-about-the-whole-thing-on-acting-impulsively-and-blindly-and-just-plain-stupidly-and-I-totally-understand-if-you-hate-me-now-and-I'm-sorry-for-making-you-feel-uncomfortable-so-I'm-so-so-sorry." Exhale.

Stunningly, Harry doesn't look offended and doesn't show any signs of discomfort. In fact, he looks almost... bemused?

"Oh, Kay" he chuckles under his breath. "You're really fucking adorable."

It's probably one if the most intense blushes I have ever had.

And, as you probably have picked up on, I blush a whole lot.

***

This was so freaking awkward to write

Wow

Okay

Thanks for reading!!!

I love youuouou xxx

B)

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