Blueprint

Part 15 - Out for Blood

I leaned away from him to see his face fully. "She's taken a strong liking to me since my interview on Monday. I'm apparently a lot like her younger self. I really don't think she knows what kind of person I am at all," I mutter, inhaling deeply.

Two days ago, I met Akira Haruno in her office. And not necessarily by choice. On my way back from campus, I saw her leaving a lecture hall. She had been apparently guest lecturing for an anthropology course about pharmaceuticals. She was a very interesting woman, and no doubt she knew exactly how to get what she wanted. That was admirable about her, just her insistence and determination, her demeanor was flawlessly assertive, and she was profoundly aware of it. However, I was overly unsure about who she is and what she does. She wasn't very specific, and it seemed she had a peculiar range of talents. All in all, she was a mystery to me.

Harry huffs and gruffly hums, "Hmm." His hands slide up and down my waist, blunt fingernails brushing against my flesh. I look at him momentarily, noting his indifference and lack of interest. I could attribute that partly because he was distracted by my nudity, and had other things in mind. Raising an eyebrow, I allow him to pull me closer to his body, his face buried into my neck. His breath felt on my skin, and his nose brushed against it, too. I bit at the inside of my cheek, trying to restrain the smile struggling to curve into my lips. "Did you sleep well?" He questions quietly.

"Yeah...," I whispered tenderly, my hand reaching up to slip into his hair. My fingernails scratch lightly throughout his scalp, a soothing gesture that makes him breathe out a soft groan. A moment elapsed, and I turned my nose into his hair, the scent of his shampoo from last night evident. "I wonder what she wants with me," I murmured into his hair.

"Probably looking for a personal assistant who can take her lunacy," he groans lightly, his hands slowly gliding up, past my stomach and over my breasts, squeezing what he could remarkably fit in his palms. I let out a small giggle at the feeling of his caress, enjoying his cheekiness this early in the morning. His lips press open-mouthed kisses up and down my neck, my teeth biting into my bottom lip when his tongue glides onto my neck as he suckles at the skin. I feel myself grow aroused by the slow, sensual movements of his tongue. I'm reluctant to fall too quickly into his submission, but it proves to be hard to avoid. My eyes shut and focus on the sensation of his mouth, successfully getting worked up.

Another ring. I'm scowling with agitation as he breathes in, turning away from me and leaning sideways to reach for his phone. It appears we're both going to be busy today. I'm fully aware of the hints the morning is throwing at us so far. It is preparation for the day's climate. I'm standing from his lap and walking towards his bathroom in the nude. He takes his phone call with his usually dismal, bland tone, muttering, "Hello?" His hand reaches up to swipe at his nose as he stares off at the wall, listening to the voice on the other end.

By the time I'm out of the bathroom, dressed in my matching set of navy undergarments, buttoning up my sky blue shirt, he's rummaging through his drawer, more than awake now. I furrow my eyebrows as I watch his quickened movements. He's only in his black pants, and they're unbuttoned and unzipped. His broad back faces me as I watch him. "What happened?" I ask him curiously, my eyes following him as he goes from rummaging in his end table, to checking his pockets.

He shakes his head, dismissing my question as he quickly replies, "Work."

"Ernest, huh," I concluded immediately.

There's a long pause before he stops moving, and he looks up at me. "You know I can't talk about this," he answers sternly. That was an answer that confirms my conclusion.

I nodded my head and raised an eyebrow, wondering what would have been the answer he was not going to give me. Ernest is truthfully a petrifying man, who carries a tension with him everywhere he goes. I'm not interested in knowing anymore, at least not to the point where I'm compelled to question him more. Ignoring the sudden change in the atmosphere, I finished buttoning my shirt and proceeded to get fully dressed. I'm more concerned with putting my shoes on and heading to Akira's office as soon as possible. And as promised, the address was sent to my phone. I planned to take the metro to the destination, and as I'm throwing my hair into a low bun, fixing a few unruly strands, I turn to look over at Harry again.