A Crazy Thing Called Love (Harry Sytles Fanfic.)

67

"Us."

Harry

"Alright," I huff, unwrapping Mum's arms from around Carmen. "If anyone gets to hug her it's me."

"I guess this means you two are okay?" She looks between us and Carmen smiles wider than I was expecting.

"Yeah." She looks up at me. "We are." I didn't realize how good it would feel to hear her say that.

"Are you staying?" Mum asks her.

"No, my Dad came with me. We're staying at a hotel."

"Your father is here!" She claps her hands and I chuckle to myself at how excited she is, just like I said she would be. "He'll have to come see us! Oh, it'll be lovely we can all have dinner together. I bought a roast for tonight that's too big for four, anyway. Call him, have him come!"

"Let's do that from upstairs," I suggest, taking Carmen's hand. She waves to everyone as I drag her up the stairs and back into my room. When she shuts the door I lift her off the ground and Carmen squeals quietly when I push her against the door.

"That was kind of rude," she mutters breathlessly.

"If we're being honest, I don't care."

"Okay, but-"

I don't wait for whatever argument I was about to get from her because I would much rather be kissing her. She immediately wraps her arms around my neck and force of habit makes my hands slide under her shirt. Carmen hooks her hand around the back of my neck and I groan quietly, turning to lay her on my bed. Whenever I kiss Carmen I lose track of everything else and what I can pay attention to is too overwhelming. Her hands, her lips, her tongue, her entire body. I can't think about anything else and it takes all of my self control to keep from ripping her clothes off.

"Harry, hang on," she mumbles against my lips. "I should call my Dad."

"Yeah, okay." I lay my head against her chest and she laughs quietly.

"My phone is in my jeans."

I get up to find it for her, fishing her phone out of one of her pockets. Her lock code is still the same, so I dial her Dad's number and hand it to her, sitting against my headboard while she holds it against her ear. She's too far away, though, so I pat the space between my legs for her to come closer.

"Your eyes look more green," she says, sitting with her legs crossed so she's facing me.

"Do they?"

"Yeah, like a tree."

"A tree," I repeat, laughing at her analogy.

"Or an emerald. That's prettier." I just laugh. She gets her Dad on the phone, assuring him everything went fine and telling him about Mum's invitation. Once he's got the address she talks to him a few more minutes before hanging up and taking my hands, lacing our fingers together on either side of us.

"Did you tell your Dad what happened with us?" I ask suddenly, frowning to myself. That could be bad for me.

"Do you think he would have let me come here if I did?" She scoffs. "No. He knows you did something, but I didn't tell him what."

"Is he going to hurt me?"

"No," she laughs. "I talked him out of it on the flight over here."

"So he was going to!"

"He wanted to. I've cried every day since he came home and not only am I his daughter, I'm his only child. Over-protective goes with the territory."