The Knight in Leather Armor

ch.11 He has flesh

I sat on my bed for a while and finished my homework straight through the week. Danny picked me up after school. I did my chores and went to work begrudgingly. Liam waved at me in the hallways and walked me to class. Nothing special.

The routineness of it all bored me half to death. It’s not that I think Liam is boring, but he sure isn’t that lively. He doesn’t do anything outside of what I expect from him. He doesn’t say anything to challenge or fight me. That’s the difference between him and well, Harry.

I thought about the list of things that I told Harry he didn’t have- and needed. If I wanted to, I could make a list of things Liam didn’t have, but needed, but I didn’t want to. Sometimes it’s better not to have everything- all your options and possibilities laid out- that way you go with your gut and don’t get caught up in the “ifs,” “ands,” or “buts.” 

***

It’s Friday and by some divine miracle, Danny has hap hazardously allowed me to go out with Liam tonight.

The phone rang. It must have been the devil, trying to ruin my happiness. Or contentness. I don’t really know; I’m feeling about a hundred different emotions right now.

“I got it,” Danny shouted unnecessarily as he took the phone up to his room. He was in his room for a while. He rarely takes his phone up to his room. It must have been someone important, well important to Danny.

“Hey, man. How ya been?” Danny greeted the caller. His voice trailed off as he closed the door behind him.

Think of the devil.

I made some pasta for Danny and the devil in leather since I won’t be here later tonight.  The doorbell rang. Danny hurried over to answer it.

“Hey, Harry. It’s good to see you,” Danny greeted Harry, giving him a hug, too.

I straightened up in my seat at the kitchen table.

“They got another lead and let me off,” the deep, raspy voice answered. I could almost hear him smiling. Or maybe that was wishful thinking.

I finished the dishes and let them dry off in the dish rack. Harry strode into the kitchen with his black leather jacket unbuttoned at the top. He removed his forest green scarf from his neck, watching me all the while. 

“What? Did you guys forget each other?” Danny joked as he nudged Harry in the shoulder.

“Hey Angela,” Harry watched me carefully, making sure not to display any emotions himself.

“Hi Harry,” I said a bit curtly.

I went to do the laundry as Harry and Danny talked in the living room, leaving the T.V. on for the purpose of privacy. (I’m assuming).

Harry slung a bag over his shoulder, then plopped it down next to the washing machine. I looked at him.

“I brought you a present,” he smiled. The corner of his dark crimson lips went up at the ends, revealing a dimple.  

Surprise fluttered across my face.

“Thanks,” I answered sarcastically as I picked up his bag, realizing it was full of dirty laundry. I began plopping the items in the machine.

“Did you kill someone-- or something?” I teased as his scent wisped into the once virginal air. His clothes smelled earthen and rusty, not horrible, just overwhelmingly thick, wrapping around my body, entangling me possessively.

Harry laughed.

“Is there anything in the pockets?” I asked as I checked just in case. “Lighter, cigarettes?” I specified.

I watched his reaction.

Leaning on the door; his tall frame looked slightly uncomfortable as it was a tight fit. He looked down and stuck his hands in his pockets.

“I don’t smoke anymore,” he answered me slowly, letting the words drift in the air between us.

I coughed.

“This girl that’s driving me crazy-- like institutional crazy-- told me it’s bad for you,” he explained, the corner of his lips went up in a slight grin.

“Well tell that girl to never stop driving you crazy,” I said, playing along with his game.

Harry’s fists tightened as he leaned his weight against the door frame. Then he looked into my eyes for a long moment.

“I don’t think she could, even if she tried,” he answered very vaguely. But, the way he was watching me told me it was something important.    

I swallowed hard and looked back at the laundry, picking up a piece without a thought. I noticed that it was his boxer briefs and I immediately dropped them back in the bag.

“They don’t bite,” he said.

I watched him with wide eyes as he picked up his underwear and threw it in the machine in a tutorial style. 

Then he took the whole bag and threw it in the machine.  He chuckled lightly to himself. I hated his laugh even more. He started to walk back to the living room.

“Oh, wait,” he said and he turned around. He took off his shirt a bit slowly.

I looked down, fidgeting with the detergent.

“I was starting to smell like marinara sauce,” he teased as he took a whiff of the room. I had made pasta just before he came.

I don’t think he cared if I saw him shirtless, especially since he had just taken his shirt off in front of me, but I still wanted to be on the safe side. Even if the more dangerous side had a very nice view.

“I’m not naked, you know,” he teased as he saw my hesitancy.

I looked at him and down at his chest, then back up to his marble eyes. His chest was cut, both types of cut. His run-ins with the law resulted in both some physical and no doubt psychological damage, which was the reason why he worked out so often. It looked like he worked out more than often.

I remembered when he had held me against his chest slightly, trying to balance my shaking body from that night. He had felt very hard- as I had imagined-but very warm too, which surprised me.

And I've never seen him without his leather jacket, his armor, and now he was half-bare and exposed, just the way he had seen me that night. For a moment, I debated whether he had taken off his shirt on purpose, as a way to balance out seeing me in such discomfort that night. I looked at the contour and definition of his chest mucles, his tattos on his collar and left arm. He had flesh under his armor. That's what made me stare. He has flesh. He is human. 

Harry was watching my expression carefully, but I made no show of my reaction, which I could see bothered him a lot. Then he handed his shirt to me. I placed it on the top of the pile and added the detergent.

But, I spoke too soon. Harry grabbed his leather jacket from the couch and put it on. He could only go for so long without the protection of his leather armor.