Cover Your Tracks [HS][2014 VERSION]

13. Hurricane

He nods. I watch silently as his hands go to the back of his neck, gripping the top of his black t-shirt before swiftly tugging it over his head. I fight to keep my eyes on his face as he hands me the piece of clothing before bringing his hands to his belt. I nervously gnaw on my bottom lip as his nimble fingers fumble with the buckle before unzipping his pants.

He bends over to pull the tight material down his legs, and my eyes fall on his torso. He has a defined set of toned abs, that much I can tell as they ripple beneath his skin with his movements. Water rolls effortlessly down his tanned skin, disappearing into the hem of his boxers. I force myself to tear my eyes away when Harry straightens, handing me the damp, black skinny jeans that once clung to his tall legs.

My eyes widen when he looks down and hooks his fingers in the band of his boxers, preparing to tug them down his legs. "Harry! Oh my god—"

He starts laughing, releasing the band from his fingers. Dimples indent themselves on his cheeks, giving him a youthful appearance. The sight makes my heart turn to putty in my chest. "Calm down, I'm just screwing with you," he chuckles.

My hands grip the end of his t-shirt and I playfully slap him on the chest with it. "That's not funny!"

"That's a shame, because I'd much rather go naked."

My breath hitches in my throat at his words and he smiles, a devilish smirk playing on his lips. I mentally curse myself for always being so awkward and nervous around him, although something tells me that he enjoys watching me squirm beneath his gaze.

"I'm gonna go put these in the dryer," I say, holding up his clothes. He nods and I start to turn around but I stop and look back at him. "There are towels in the bathroom if you need one."

He nods again and we go our separate ways. I step into the laundry room and flick on the light, illuminating the small space. I go over to the dryer and open the lid, tossing in Harry's t-shirt and jeans. My hands routinely twist the dials until they're on the appropriate setting. Once everything is in order I shut the lid and press start, walking away as the sound of clothes churning emits from the machine.

When I re-enter the living room Harry is sitting on the couch, flipping through TV channels. A blanket covers his bare legs and I pray that he hadn't decided to remove his boxers in my short absence.

I feel awkward as I walk over to him, and the fact that he looks up as I approach only makes it worse. He sends me a small smile and I return it before ungracefully plopping down onto the couch a good two feet away from him.

Silence fills the room as he continues to flip through the channels on the TV, while I sit there twiddling my thumbs. Taking advantage of his distracted state, I turn my head and scan my eyes over him. His skin and hair are free of moisture, and it is then that I notice the towel lying on the armrest next to him.

"Is there a TV show that you like, because I'm not finding anything," he speaks up, staring straight ahead at the screen. When I don't answer he glances at me from the corner of his eye. A smirk stretches across his lips as he realizes that I had been staring at him. "Or am I entertaining enough for you?"

My cheeks flare. "Sorry."

"I'm just teasing," he tells me, turning his attention back towards the TV. "It's very amusing, actually."

"Do you use that mouth of yours for anything else other than making me uncomfortable to get a laugh?" I question incredulously.

His lips tug up at the corners, forming a crooked smile. "Oh, you would be surprised. There are far more pleasurable things I can do with it."