Concupiscence | HS | currently on hold

II. Michelle

'Michelle, ma belle, sont des mots qui vont très bien ensemble, très bien ensemble...'
Michelle - The Beatles

While laying half naked in his bed, Harry tried to remember what exactly had happened the night before. The little things that flashed through his mind were many Whiskey Sours, coloured lights, loud music and a petite brunette named Michelle who hadn't quite figured out how a hand job should be properly given. Maybe it was the social awkwardness on her part, but Harry thought it was quite...endearing.

His passion for female company hadn't changed a bit.

Women had always been a way of relaxation or even distraction for the young man and if they were up for it, he would let them take him to their beds only to become their temporary king in the bedroom. For years Harry had only wanted to 'have fun' and 'enjoy life'. At the age of sixteen, after he discovered the pleasures some sort of physical contact could provide, he realised actually having sex instead of bragging about it like other teenage boys did, was the way to go for him.

Romantic strolls on the beach while holding a girl's hand suddenly didn't seem that appealing anymore. He was young and he wanted to enjoy his freedom in the best way he knew. He didn't want to be held back by the idea of love or by its responsibilities. He wanted to do whatever he pleased with whoever he pleased. He got his way with girls, made it very clear he didn't want anything to do with them romantically and then moved on. If he couldn't have the one he wanted, he shagged another one. No need for losing energy because of a bird he couldn't pull. Certainly not when there were more than enough pretty ones still flying in the sky.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his phone resonating through his still dark bedroom. He picked it up from his night stand and saw three missed calls. He checked the alarm clock and decided it was time to start getting ready to attend his afternoon classes. He crawled out of his bed after rubbing his face with both hands one last time and answered the call when he finally realised it was his mum.

"Hello?" He spoke and shut his eyes briefly once he heard his voice, thickly coated with deep sleep. He drew back his curtains, flinched at the unexpected brightness shining through the window and opened it to freshen up the room.

"Good Morning, sweetheart, you're finally up." Harry smiled when his mum's soft and warm voice came through the other end of the line.

"Hi mum. Last night was quite a rough one. I went out with the boys after Chelsea won...you know how it is." Harry chuckled, thinking back at all the crazy things he and his friends had done.

"Do you have class today?" Harry walked out of his room to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator to look for a healthy breakfast.

He was one of those people.

"Yeah, but only after noon, I still have time to chat." He answered while holding the phone between his cheek and right shoulder to take a banana, some yogurt and raisins out the fridge.

"I thought you didn't like watching Chelsea play anyway?" Anne asked with a little confusion edged in her voice.

"Yeah well...I went along for moral support." Harry stopped his actions abruptly, almost dropping his half peeled banana to the ground.

What was happening to him?

After a full night out with the lads, getting plastered and a hook up with some brunette-girl, Nina StPierre, who had said no to him very directly, still managed to slip into his head. He hadn't seen her for years - never thought he actually would ever see her again - and yet here he was choosing and using the exact same words her delicate lips had shaped the evening before. Even though the academic year had already started several weeks ago, it was only yesterday he had noticed her glowing presence.