Shattered Glass

Honour was a Junior in high school. She made straight A's and never really had any enemies but many friends. When her life takes a dramatic turn for the worst, who will be there for her when she needs them?

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7. Chapter 7

“Is he like your boyfriend or something?” Harry asked, breaking the silence that had not been long settled.

 

    “More like best friend.” I say, sighing as I go through my dresser for dry clothes. 

 

    “Are you sure he knows that?” Harry rumbled as he walked further into my room.

 

    “Yeah, I’m sure.” I reply, shutting the last drawer before turning to him. 

 

    I frown, looking at the small puddles that had formed in the hallway and had trailed into my room. Harry stood by my bed, his shirt clinging to his torso as he brushed back his wet curls. My mouth went dry at the sight, making me swallow harshly before clearing my throat.

 

    “I think I have some dry clothes that might fit you. Let me look.” I say, laying my pile of clothes on top of my dresser before digging through it once more.

 

    A mumbled thanks was given as I pulled out a pair of joggers and tee shirt out of one of my drawers. I threw them at him, not making eye contact as I gathered my clothes and stepped into my bathroom. Once I was behind the closed door, I pried the wet cloth from my skin, tossing them into the tub so they wouldn’t create a mess on the floor. After towel drying my hair, I loosely braid it and let it hang down the middle of my back.

 

    My attention went to the thumping noise from behind my door, making me sigh. What is going on now? I open the door and step out, flipping off the light before turning my attention to the guy standing in the middle of my room.

 

    “I’m surprised these fit. I didn’t think they was going to.” Harry said, his back towards me as he fought with his shirt. 

 

    I felt my mouth start to water as his shirt slowly came off, revealing the tan skin beneath it. Muscles flexed underneath smooth flesh, random drops of water rolling down his neck and shoulders from his still dripping hair. The light glittered off of his damp skin, showing that it was still moist from being caught in the rain. I felt my breathing get shallow as he turned around, a smirk playing on his lips.

 

    “Whose clothes are these anyway?” He asked, tugging on the joggers that decorated his lower half.

 

    “They were Louis’s. He has a big bum.” I say, blurting the last part as I try to keep my eyes from roaming over his bare chest.

 

    “Don’t you think he would be a little upset if he found out your ‘play toy’ was wearing his clothes?” Harry teased, fiddling with the shirt I had given him.

 

    “He doesn’t have to know.” I say, adverting my eyes from the temptation that stood just feet from me.

 

    “Do you have a towel I can dry off with?” He asked, the smile in his voice telling me he knew why I turned away.

 

    I didn’t respond as I retreated back into the bathroom, catching a breath or two before grabbing a clean towel and throwing it in his direction. He didn’t speak as he dried off, letting an awkward silence set in. My chance to take in the sight before was opened up as he placed the towel over his head, covering his face as he towel dried his hair. 

 

    Tattoos decorated his skin, dark lines curved and swirled into images and letters. Birds covered his chest as a butterfly had been inked into the flesh of his upper stomach. Different pictured dotted his arms and shoulders, making me curious what they mean and why he got them. 

 

    I jumped when he cleared his throat, his eyes glistening at me as I looked up at him, realizing that I had just been busted. Fire set in on my cheeks, making me drop my eyes in embarrassment.

 

    “You see something you like?” He asked, his confidence coming through.

 

    “I was just wondering about all your tattoos.” I mumbled, trying to explain myself without sounding like a weirdo.

 

    He just grinned at me, making my cheeks burn even more. He slipped on the shirt, making me giggle as we both noticed that it was a tad bit too small for him. It was tight around the shoulders and chest, the fabric sticking to his stomach and was about an inch to short.

 

    “Do you have any other shirts?” He asked, crossing his arms over his stomach and grabbing the ends of the shirt. I shook my head and watched him grin.

 

    “Well, looks like I’ll just have to go shirtless.” He says smugly as he wiggles out of the shirt and tosses it on my bed. He steps towards me and I place my hand on his chest to stop him from getting any closer.

 

    His heart beat hard under my touch, his breathing growing shallow as I looked up at him from underneath my eyelashes. He leaned in and I panicked, stepping back and clearing my throat. He frowned but brushed it off.

 

    “I think my dad might have a shirt that fits you.” I mutter and retreat out of my room. 

 

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