Night Changes

35

Pulling up out front of my building, it felt familiar, and yet, awkward. I hadnt even let myself walk down this street over the last week, trying to keep a distinct distance. And yet, here I was, stepping out onto the sidewalk in front of it, with Harry in tow.

This didn’t spell disaster at all, did it?

Harrys hand found my lower back as he lead me into the building, and remained there as we waited for the elevator. All the surroundings were so familiar, and yet, it seemed as if I hadnt been there in years. It had only actually been a week.

Stepping inside the elevator, Harry leaned forward and pressed the button for our floor, before leaning back to return to my side. His hands were clasped behind his back, his eyes forward. Neither of us said anything, and yet, I had no doubt, our minds were racing. I felt my breathing increase, my heart hammering in my chest.

I remembered the time he had cornered me in this elevator, pressing me against the wall, his lips devouring my own. His hand slipped beneath my panties, torturing me, making me writhe and crave him. I was almost panting at the memory.

Glancing to my side, I found Harry watching me with a smirk.

“What?”

He shook his head, shrugging. “I don’t know,” he smiled. “You just started breathing heavy for a minute. Thought maybe you were getting a little claustrophobic.”

My eyes widened, before I turned back to the front. I caught the hint of the smirk on his face deepening.  That fucker knew exactly what I had been thinking. He knows Im not claustrophobic.

Asshole.

The bell signaled our arrival on our floor, and Harry stepped back to allow me out first. We walked in silence towards the apartment, Harry just a step behind me. But at no point was I not completely aware of him.

He stepped up to the door, pulling out his keys and allowing us inside. Passing the threshold, I glanced around.

It was immaculate. Not an item out of place. I was surprised, to say the least. Harry was not necessarily a messy person, but he wasn’t this tidy either. Neither was I, if I was being honest. He had either spent the entire week cleaning, or had hired someone.

I felt him step up beside me.

“I wanted to make sure it was clean,” he said quietly. “For when you came home.”

I nodded, swallowing hard. My heart seized, and I refused to meet his eyes. If I did, I would either cry or kiss him. Neither would help our situation right now. So instead, I made my way towards our bedroom.

This was a bad idea, I told myself. Being here with him, in our apartment, after such a nice day, was not the best way to be able to hold my ground. He had been so fucking perfect today. Everything he planned, everything he did, everything he said, was perfect. Because he was perfect. To me, at least. And now I was here, in our space, with him so close to me, and yet so far away.