She just came back from summer vacation. She's a normal teenage girl. Two best friends, good grades. Then she sees him, walking the hallways of their school. His brown hair, gelled back, brown woolen vest, black tie, and a white shirt. His glasses placed low on his nose. She watched him push them back, closer to his emerald green eyes. What was it about him? He really outdid the geek stereotype. Or maybe that's just a judgement you would make, if you only knew how he looks and acts. Because what if it just is an act? What if he wasn't a geek the geek you thought he were?


8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8


He stopped the car infront of a forrest. He stepped out of the car, and while I unbuckled my seatbelt. Harry made his way around the car, and opened the door for me.

"Thanks," I giggled. He smiled and nodded. I looked around quite scared. 

"Why are we here?" I asked, cautiously.

Harry cleared his throat. "I already told you. It's a surprise."

I groaned. "Well, then, where are we?" 

"In a forest." 

"Yeah, I got that part." 

"Just follow me, would you?" He laughed. I smiled.

He grabbed my hand. We walked, his large hand grasping mine, and he lead me further into the woods, until, when I looked back, I couldn't see where we had come from. We walked for about 5 minutes. He seemed to know exactly where he was going, and I was just following him deeper in. 

We came across a trail, detailed with glistening white pepplestones, leading north-west. I looked up, after keeping my head down most of the way, and my eyes widened. In front of me was a beautiful mahogany, and steamed acacia lodge house. The windows were tinted with in colours red, blue and purple. There were wooden beams, decorated along the top and the bottom. The windows had dark purple flowers potted in a trough in front. It looked like it had been pulled out of a fantasy book. It looked amazing.

"What is this?" I asked, curiosuly.

He looked at me. "What, you don't like it?"

"No-" I started.

"No?" He said, and pretended to look hurt.

"No, I didn't mean it like that. It's amazing! What is this place, anyways?"

"It's the place that I take you to to brutally murder you." He said without a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"Wha- Huh?" I stuttered. 

His serious expression slowly turned into a smirk, and he walked over to me. I started to back away, but he just laughed and quietly said, "Just kidding." He took me into his arms, holding on tight, and pressed his lips to my forehead. I smiled to myself. I have the weirdest boyfriend.

He pulled away. "Wanna go inside?"

"Are you going to brutally murder me?" I ask, faking caution, when I know he's not gonna hurt me.

"You never know..."

"Ha ha," I mock, and follow him inside. 

The inside looked even more beautiful than the outside. We walked straight into an area that featured the kitchen, the dining table and the living room. The kitchen was very old fashioned, with checkered floors and backsplash, the cabinets and were a bright mahogany color, and the counter was deep black. The dining table was dark oak, and was decorated with an old fashioned red checkered table cloth. On top was a tall vase with yellow sunflowers, and plates, glasses, and utensils set out. 

The living room was themed blue, with a deep blue couch, and beige armchairs, you know the ones with large cushions, that are very comfortable. There was a television, and a painting of a boat on the ocean above it. The pillows on the couch were beige, as well. 

There was a large staircase leading upstairs, onto the second level.

The best part about the whole thing was the food set out on the dining table. The pizza looked incredibly delicious. There was so much cheese that I could have melted (get it?). It all looked magnificent.

"This looks amazing! And that pizza looks just way too delicious. Can we go eat now?" I walked toward the pizza, and Marcel followed. We sat down on either side and I just took in the delicious smell.

"Is it good?" Harry asked me after I took a bite from the pizza.


"It's not? I thought I did pretty well-"

"It's amazing! Did you make it?" 

"I am actually not a bad cook."

"Well, well, well. Looky here; we have a chef in the house! Thank god. I eat a lot of food, and I expect gourmet midnight snacks!"

"Yes, madame." He laughed.




The rest of the night was amazing, but it's also private ;) Don't worry, we didn't 'do' it. Not yet anyways.

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