Introspective Strangers [h.s.]

Chapter 60

Maybe a little celebration could do us some good.

"Mm," I'd hummed, bracing my elbow on the door and resting my head on my hand so that I could look at him as he drove. "And how were you hoping to celebrate, honeybee?"

He glanced over at me; eyes sparkling. "You're the graduate, you decide."

"I can't make a decision to save my life," I scoffed, grinning at him. "It's up to you."

Harry's choice had promptly led us to tonight – the two of us dancing and singing around his living room, readying to soon trek our way to the bar. The same bar that we had met. Only this time, we were headed there together.

Where once the idea of heading to a dingy, crowded bar on a weekend would have sent me spiralling and into a fit of anxiety, for some reason none of those feelings came. Even after having invited half the people we knew – Amelia, Heather, Friday, Casey, Isaac, Ty and Luke – to tag along as well. I was almost excited.

"You're sure you're okay with Isaac coming?" I'd asked Harry.

"Are you okay with it?" His eyes had born into mine – reading me and unveiling the inner workings of my mind.

"I... am. Yes. I want him to be there... I'm not totally ready to forgive him, but I'm ready to take those first few steps forward."

He'd only nodded, kissing me once both deeply and passionately, before pulling back enough to murmur, "Then I want him there too."

His response only made me love him more.

He was sitting across from me now on the carpet, our knees knocking against one another as I fixed his nail polish. He grabbed the wine bottle that the two of us were sharing from between my legs and took a long sip.

"I'm kind of regretting this."

"Careful," I hissed, grabbing his wrist from where he was lowering the bottle back down. I had to pry it from his fingers, where his wet nail polish had almost grazed against my jeans. "And regretting what? Having me paint your nails? They look fine, idiot, but you kept moving so they're–"

"Not my nails," he snatched his wrist back, hooking his thumb around the neck of the bottle and moving it out from between my legs. He leaned forward, bracing a hand on the ground on either side of my waist, his knee replacing where the wine had been until he was almost fully straddling me. "Regretting agreeing to go out."

He turned his head slightly to the side, eyes fluttering shut, as he brushed his nose over my cheek and down my jaw. Before I had a chance to answer him, he mumbled against my skin, "Let's just stay here."

I braced a hand on his shoulder, reluctantly shoving him back a fraction. "What about the celebration, huh?" I teased, grinning and knitting my fingers in the hair at the bottom of his neck. "The one you were so very keen on?"

He was back nuzzling my shoulder, his hand grazing up my side and slipping underneath my shirt. "Mm," was the only response he gave, shifting himself until our chests were almost fully flush against each other. "Don't care about it anymore."

"Rude," I tried to tease, but the word came out more of a strangled gasp as he pressed a number of kisses up my jaw, stopping finally by pressing his tongue against the sensitive spot below my ear. My hand found his thigh for support the same moment that his mouth found mine, his teeth sinking down on my bottom lip with a little hum.

"Let's stay here." He repeated, eyes darkening a fraction before he greedily leaned in for another kiss. I held off on any reprimands that might have otherwise tumbled from my lips until he drew back an inch.