Damaged » h. styles au

Chapter 60 - Scarlett

                                                                   60.  

                                                           ●•Scarlett•●

It was not until it was completely dark and freezing cold outside that I started gathering my stuff around his flat, distractedly jumping over the cushions scattered on the carpet and a few even on the hallway to the rooms, due to Harry’s insistence on keeping me with him on the couch when I really felt like going to the bathroom, throwing a few at me – and failing at actually hitting me – as if that would totally solve the problem.

The mere thought of what’d happened only a couple of hours ago made me grin stupidly, already making a little ball of clothes folded between my arms as I collected them from the floor, where I’d thrown them after I’d finally changed into my own clothing again.

Obviously, Harry was asleep on the couch – not that the thought of him being on the couch is obvious, but actually the fact that he’s unconscious –, ‘cause obviously he wouldn’t let me even stand if he was fully aware of what I was about to do, then. That’s mostly the reason why I’d stood up carefully, slowly holding his arm and removing it from where it was placed on my belly, silently tiptoeing back to his room, and… Well. Doing exactly what I was doing now.

The second reason I’d been so careful (and, logically, I wouldn’t admit it to him in a billion years) was because he looked completely adorable – and no, there’s no other word to describe it – with his mouth half-open, the upholstery of the couch imprinting its mark on his sleepy face, so beautifully peaceful. Waking him up would be a shame, since his asleep-self was definitely my favorite him.

He looked cute, calm and gullible, and maybe even innocent, like he surely didn’t do while awake, all cheeky and flirty and overly confident. Not that it happened all the time, anyways, because Styles was surely the only person who knew how and when to act in a certain way with me; and I’m not complaining either, because even if his flirts suck, I know his goals are not to make me flush, whatsoever. He seems to care more about seeing me simply rolling my eyes at him, knowing it makes me smile foolishly, than actually making me swoon.

Ha. As if that was possible.

And after all, it was still a shame I had to actually wake him up, because I couldn’t, just couldn’t leave this time without telling him goodbye. I couldn’t go away and let him think all he did last night was useless, when, honestly, it’d been the best thing someone has ever done for me. Today was even better, if you ask me, and I still couldn’t get over the fact that I was smiling like a f–cking child because he was so stupid it made me feel better naturally.

It’d been just a day, almost 24 hours next to him only, maybe? And still, I felt like I was born again.

Bending down in front of the couch, I grasped the edge of it for support with one hand, while quickly loosening up my hair and letting it fall around my shoulders with the other, covering the exposed skin of my neck that’d soon be feeling the cold wind from outside. After that, I hesitantly touched Harry’s arm, just lightly, shaking him almost imperceptibly to try and wake him up.

He mumbled some kind of complaint and turned around with his back facing me, hugging a cushion and burying his face in it.

“Harry, Haz?” I tried again, shaking him a bit harder now, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his neck, not being able to hold back the grin when he literally shivered and half-smiled, still not fully conscious. “Hey, curly, get up.”