I hurry into my parents room down the hall, trying to unclog my mind. What is it with this kid and his scent? I find my dads part of the room and dig through his drawers, coming across a regular grey tee. Snagging it from its place I shut the drawer and make my way into the hallway.
“I think this one will fit you bet- what are you doing?” I ask as I find him slowly flipping through my sketchbook. Oh no.
“You are a very good artist.” He states simply as he flips another page.
“Please give me that.” I say, hurrying towards him.
I reach for the book as he stands, barely dodging my effort for the pad. He grins at me as he flips another page, revealing the dark monstrosity that I still have to burn.
“You go from happy, sweet things to dark and scary things.” He mumbles, about to flip the page to the very thing I was trying to keep hidden from him.
“Give me.” I grunt as I snatch the book out of his hands and quickly replace it with the shirt.
The shirt was dropped as I squealed, his arms wrapping around my waist to bring him closer to the book. I bend over, keeping as much distance between him and my sketch book as possible. He makes a throaty sound but continues on his mission to snag the book out of my hands. I wiggle, stomping on his bare foot with mine and sent us both forward on the floor.
The air huffed out of my lungs as he landed on me though almost instantly his weight was gone, his elbows against the floor has he held himself above me. With one hand he retrieved the book from my loose fingers. I bury my face into my hands in embarrassment as I hear him flip to the page he left off on. It was quiet for a moment, the silent seconds ticking by until he spoke.
“This is what you didn’t want me to see. It wasn’t the scary drawing it was this.” He mumbled.
I kept my head down, my face so hot that the tops of my ears were burning. He’s going to think that I’m some creep. His personal stalker. Some weirdo that draws his face while he sketches his own pictures.
I resist his gentle attempts to roll me over until I hear the thump of my drawing book hit the floor. Large hands manually rolled me over, his larger body enveloping mine as he forced me to look up at him.
“It’s okay. I like it. You did a very good job.” He rasps, looking down at me.
“So, you don’t think I’m a stalker?” I ask, making him chuckle. I try not to notice that his body is brushing against mine in almost every place.
“No, I don’t think you are a stalker. I actually have something of my own to show you.” Harry admits, getting to his feet and holding his hand out. I take it and I’m lifted off of the floor and placed on my bed.
“I’ll be right back.” He promises before he disappears out of my room. I wait about five minutes before he comes back through my door, his own sketch book in hand.
“Here.” He states, flipping to a page and handing me the paper.
“It’s me.” I mutter in surprise.
My dark eyes scan over the picture, surprised at how much detail he was able to put into this.
“My favorite part of drawing that was the lips.” He says quietly, directing my attention to my mouth.
My bottom lip was lightly taken between my teeth, something I normally do when I’m trying to focus really hard on something.
“They always look so soft.” He mumbles, drawing my attention away from his drawing and to him.
“ Like rose petals. Little pink rose petals.” He says softly, making my heart beat hard as his large hand cups the side of my face. His thumb rubs over my bottom lip as his other hand rests on my waist, gently squeezing.
He leans in and I mentally panic. What am I supposed to do. His lips brush mine and my mind stops working, clouding with the feeling of his smooth lips against mine. I let my eyes flutter close as he places another light kiss on my mouth, a small hum coming from him. I feel him start to push me back but I refuse, my brain thawing.
“It’s okay.” He rasps, the right words said by the wrong person kicking my body into overdrive.
I quickly detach his body from mine, going from sitting on the bed to standing across the room in seconds. I clamp my hand over my mouth as I turn away from him, holding in my tears.
It’s okay. Everything is fine, you are okay. I think to myself, letting my heart beat slow down before I turn around.
“Did I do something wrong?” Harry asks, hurt clear in his voice at my reaction.
“N-no. You didn’t do anything wrong. I just... I think you need to go.” I say, crossing my arms over my stomach, holding myself.
“We can talk about this, please don’t make me leave, Honour.” Harry rasps, standing to his feet.
“We can some other time but I need some space, please leave.” I say quickly, not allowing myself to look him in the face as I focus on his chest.
“Honour-” He starts but I cut him off.
“Leave!” I say a little louder, forcing myself to be brave and look at him.
He stands there for a moment, his face blank as he watches me.
“You were never in an abusive relationship....Were you?” He asks quietly, his tone telling me he knows the answer to that question already.
I shake my head fast, my eyes hitting the floor as I blinked rapidly. Stupid tears. Stupid feelings. I take my bottom lip between my teeth and turn away from him, the crying episode to close to just push away anymore.
“I’m sorry, Honour. I wouldn’t have done that if I... I’m so sorry.” Harry apologizes, his own voice thick with some sort of emotion.
“It’s not your fault. You didn’t do it.” I sniffle, wiping at my face.
I jump as his hands land on my shoulders, turning me around to face him.
“It doesn’t change anything. I’m not going to just leave you by yourself. Who all knows?” Harry asks, his green eyes locking mine.
“Just you.” I mutter, holding in what the rest of my tears as I cough to cover up a small sob.
“It’s going to be okay.” Harry mumbles as he pulls me closer, wrapping his arm around me tightly.
Instead of pushing him away, I do the same. Burying my face into his chest, I let it out. We stood like that for a while until he scoops me up and sits down on my bed. He rearranges me in his lap, my face still in his borrows shirt as I hiccup and try to calm down.