The Castle of Gold [Bk 2]

ch.1 My gold

“I’m graduating in a week, remember?” I spoke slowly, trying to jog his memory. But I don’t think he forgot. I think he was trying not to remember. For whatever reason that may be.

“Oh, yeah” he nodded carefully, avoiding my eyes.

“Harry, what’s wrong?” I asked him cautiously. I stroked his head slowly, making his dark curls bounce and entangles with each other.

I moved a stray curl to the side, so that I could watch his eyes as he spoke. He could lie pretty well. He was careful with his words; he said what he wanted to say, how he wanted to say it- without adding too much or little, which always left me hanging for more. And he liked that.

Grey clouds formed over the green forest in his eyes.

A crackle of thunder sounded.

Then a streak of gold cut across.

I leaned in close, looking into his eyes with disbelief.

Then I turned to the real direction of the sound and streak. The sky was now blue-black and puffs of grey clouds had overtaken the once golden sky.

A tear dropped from an angel above. Then another.

And another.

And another.

“Let’s go” Harry told me, but he’d already carefully placed his jacket over my shoulders and scooped me up in his arms-bridal style- and began jogging out of the park. He held me close to his lean torso and ducked his head of curls as he rain fell harder.

“Harry, I can walk” I protested quietly, secretly not wanting him to put me down.

“I don’t want you to get wet” he explained with a soft grin that made his cheeks rosy and sweet like a young boy instead of a young man. I leaned in close and kissed his cheek, wanting the rosiness to rub off on my lips.

“Well, not this kind of wet” he winked.

I spoke too soon.

Then I rolled my eyes playfully.

Harry laughed and jogged faster now.

We reached my place. Well, Danny’s place, which I still lived in because I was still in high school and still a “baby,” even though Harry’s place was my real home. I was there most of the time. But never over night, Danny wouldn’t allow it. He couldn’t say my name and “bra” in the same sentence, let alone me and Harry being together… at night.

So we made our puzzle in the day. I skipped class a few times, but never English or history, just math and science. (The less important subjects to me because they were only right and wrong answers. And I don’t like cold, hard facts anyway.)

“Oh, Harry, you’re shirts soaking wet” I commented quietly, guiltily.

But his shirt looked nicer that way. It was a plain white-t, but the rain drops made the cotton fibers cling to every muscle.

continued>>>

It reminded me of the time he tricked me into wearing a white dress, then he tricked me into thinking he was drowning in his pool, then he tricked me and- and did other things that night. Things that- because I never said them aloud, they were written all over my face and body, like I was Harry’s words unspoken.  The words he could speak to me through his hands.

Becky could say those things out loud. She could look you in the eye and even add a wink here and there. But I never could do that. I didn’t blush as much as before, but I could never talk about it to someone. And I didn’t want to; that’s why it’s called “intimacy.”

Harry looked down at his shirt and I saw those dimples cut into his grin line.

“What a shame” he hissed teasingly.

He took a dangerously mischievous step closer and lowered his head and shook his dark curls, making sure that every drop landed on me.

I pushed at his chest and hid my face in my arm, trying to avoid the water he practically sprayed me with. But that only encouraged him even more.

“Hey! Stop it!” I protested, but ended up laughing.

Harry held his arms out around me, making sure I had no escape from his playful water works.

The moment I stopped trying to fight him off (which was quickly becoming pointless because I Iost the moment I started) he took my face in his hands and lowered his lips to mine.

But the moment his lips met mine, I pushed at his chest again as I remembered that I was supposed to be mad at him for forgetting my graduation. But that was another hopeless cause. Harry and I couldn’t ever truly be angry at each other because we had suffered so much to even have one moment with each other that to fight was to waste that precious moment.

“What’s the matter, baby? Don’t like getting wet?” he purred in a low voice, close to my ear.

I blinked to stop the icy-hot shiver from sliding down my spine.

“No” I retorted in pretend annoyance.

Harry lifted his shirt off and tossed it on a nearby bush.

My gaze fell to the beads of sweat and water that glided along the contour of his chest.

Harry took advantage of my momentary distraction and tugged me to his chest, then closed his lips over mine again.

I wound my arms around his neck. A drop of water slid down his nose and landed on mine.

“Well I do” he smirked.

Then he kissed the drop.

“Ah-hem” a deep voice cleared his throat from close behind.