Tangerine

Chapter 78

Soundtrack: Smokey Robinson and the Miracles - Ooo Baby Baby

Dedication: (@SoFlower) hellooo thank you for reading, your comments are always very lovely :) i'm so glad you like my writing, hopefully you weren't left hanging for too long with that last chapter haha! here's an update you might enjoy x

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Harry guides me along the hotel corridor, his hand firmly wrapped around mine. He doesn't say a word. In fact, Harry doesn't look back once, not even to check if I'm still attached to the fingers he's got so rigidly in his grasp.

Once we make it to the end of the corridor and we're almost about to turn right, Harry jerks in his stance and stops us from moving. We are halted directly behind the bend. Harry presses a finger to his lips, his eyes boring into mine.

"What?" I mouth to him, eyes wide.

"Security," Harry mouths back, moving his finger from his lips to midair, signalling for me to wait.

I nod, watching as the boy peeks around the corner and pops his head back once, twice. Then he's nodding back to me and grabbing my hand like before. Then we're keying at his door, then it's shutting and locking behind us, then Harry is turning around to face me, and we haven't kissed yet.

We haven't kissed yet.

"Harry..." wonder lives in my eyes as I trail him into his suite; a space much bigger than mine.

"Scarlet," he smiles, seemingly dropping his stealthy act now that he's got me alone.

"Um... well, happy five o'clock," I smile at the lad dreamily, wandering over to peer through the crack in his drapes.

I'm met with the sight of office buildings and hotels tightly knit where our window resides, with a view of endless businesses stretching into the distance. Below, a pleasant sight of the morning streets of Kansas City, overlooking the early traffic below.

Our hotel is on a corner and unfortunately, the neighbouring buildings are so closely situated that there is no back entrance or private drive to any underground areas, so we had to be very public about our arrival. Any discomfort I felt getting into this place, however, is so being made up for right now.

That, and everything beyond.

I draw the heavy curtains open, allowing the soft haze of the pre-dawn to cast shadows over Harry's walls, his carpeted floors, and - I swallow thickly - his unmade bed.

"Enjoying the view?"

I turn around.

Harry is closer than before. His hand is tucked underneath his thin t-shirt, fingers busy scratching along his waist. My eyes are not drawn to the fern leaves inked over his bare skin, nor the tight V of muscle exposed by his low-sitting joggers. My mouth is definitely not watering at his thick bulge hidden under thin cotton, nor at his perky rosebud nipples poking through that sheer white shirt.

I'm even more definitely not scanning my eyes over Harry's fit torso, shoulders to knees and everything in between, picturing him as naked as can be, or gaping at him like a fucking x-ray.

"You move your mouth up and down," Harry nears me, smirking softly, "then you make words with sounds."

I part my lips to speak, but all that comes out is an airy laugh. I cover my hand over my face, giggling at how surreal this is and how fucking giddy I've become, all from mere implications.