Hidden [h.s]

FIFTY-TWO (EDITED)

I look over at Harry, the light of the TV reflecting in his eyes. His lips are upturned in a small smirk as he watches the show, his dimples only slightly showing.

I want to kiss him again.

Just as I'm thinking this, he turns his head and looks down at me, our eyes locking. He swallows, blinking lazily as I smile up at him, and he smiles back.

This is the same boy that I told myself I hated for so much time, the boy who taunted and insulted me at every chance he got. The boy that greeted me by telling me to keep the noise level down, when I'm sure our other neighbors would have liked to tell us the same thing, with all our constant arguing and shouting at each other.

"Rose."

Harry's rough voice snaps me out of my train of thought.

"Hmm?"

"I never noticed what lovely eyes you have." His own emerald eyes search mine, a small smile on his lips.

"They're not lovely," I scoff, sitting up slightly. "They're the color of dog shit."

Harry laughs. "No, I believe dog shit is a bit darker."

"That depends on the type of dog shit." Harry smirks.

"Well, no matter what type it is, your eyes are the most beautiful color of dog shit brown I've ever seen."

I laugh. "I'm flattered."

I turn my attention back to the show after that, sighing and leaning on Harry's shoulder. We watch the characters on the screen, and I laugh constantly.

Harry always looks down at me when I do, laughing, too. It's like my laugh triggers his, and vice versa.

After awhile, my eyelids get heavy, and I find myself falling asleep on Harry for the third time now. I desperately try to keep my eyes open, but the events of the day are catching up to me, and I fail.

Harry notices my battle with consciousness. "Hey," He says softly. "Do you want me to go get you some blankets, now?"

I shake my head, not moving off of him. "No," I say, not wanting him to leave.

"Rose, you're falling asleep." He begins to shift underneath me, but I grab onto his shirt.

"No," I say again.

I'm enjoying this too much-being so close to him.

"Rosalie Knight," He says, his tone mock-authoritative. "You get to bed this instant."

He sounds so much like my mother that I laugh, and he takes this opportunity to slip from under me, a triumphant grin on his face.

"That wasn't fair," I pout.

"I'll get you the blankets," He singsongs, disappearing down the hall.

During this time, I sleepily change into my pajamas in the bathroom, brushing my teeth as well.

When I emerge, blankets are set up neatly on the couch. I notice one of Harry's pillows there, too, and internally rejoice at the fact I'll be smelling the scent of spearmint and cologne all night.

I slip into bed, turning out the lamp. Harry leans against the wall connecting the hallway to the living room.

"Sleep well, Rosie," He says.

"You too."

He smiles at me again before disappearing into his room.

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