Killer Kisses // h.s au

sixteen. Development

Development 

Toned, heavily inked arms were pinned either side of my head, body lowered atop of mine. Our legs were tangled, my fingers woven between his wild curls. His lips detached from mine, only to trail longing, peppered kisses from my jawline to my neck, my collarbones and beyond. My spine involuntarily arched at the contact. Fingers removing from his hair, I dragged my nails down his back, red raw rivers streaming down past his shoulder blades. He groaned into my neck, mouth latching onto mine once more.

"I'm sorry," I murmured against his lips. He ignored me the first time, only proceeding to graze his teeth against the column of my throat. "I'm so sorry," I tried again. 

Hands unclasping from around his broad shoulders, my arm reached out to my side. My fingers wrapped around the handle of the gun, arms returning to hook around his neck. Just as his tongue was entering my mouth, I pressed the muzzle of the gun against Harry's temple and pulled down on the trigger.

Gasping breathlessly, I shot up from my bed. I sat up, leaning back against the headboard as I awaited the erratic hammering of my heart to slow down. A sheen layer of sweat cloaked my forehead, my chest rising and falling with each heavy pant. My mouth was parched so I swung my legs around to the side of the mattress and rose from the bed. Manoeuvring my way through the dark until I reached my door, I padded passed Harry's room to the landing. The stairs groaned in protest as I descended them, progressing into the kitchen. Still slightly shaken up from my nightmare, I held a glass under the tap. I retracted it so brutally, it caused the water to lap over the rim of the glass and slosh onto my hand. Leaning back against the counter, I downed the drink in one.

I remained in that position in the kitchen for a good five minutes, before eventually composing myself. My pulse had returned to its normal pace and remnants of my nightmare were already beginning to fade from my memory.

Sighing as I adjusted my vest top, I returned back up the stairs and to the landing. As I was passing Harry's room, a light sniff seized my attention. I halted in my tracks, pressing my ear against the door. A barely audible sob caused me to turn the handle and open the door.

"Harry?"

He was instantly detectable since his bedside lamp was already turned on, casting the room with a subtle, orange glow. He immediately smacked his novel shut, fumbling to hide it under his pillow. He furiously swiped the tears away with the heel of his hand, which was a pretty idiotic move since all he succeeded in doing was draw further attention to his bloodshot eyes. Sniffing twice more, he kneaded his eye sockets with his fists. "Hunter, I was, um, why are you still up?"

"Were you crying over a book?" My grin was smug and teasing, but my heart lurched at his soft side he tried so desperately to conceal.   

"No, I just – I just had something in my eyes, is all."

I cocked a brow. "That's honestly the best excuse you could come up with? You were crying over a book!" I provoked, pointing accusingly at him.

"No I wasn't!" he defended, shuffling uncomfortably under his covers. After a few more seconds under my unconvinced scrutiny, he sighed and threw his arms in the air. "Fine! Maybe I was!" Even in the low, amber lighting, I could see his face burning up.

I giggled lightly, leaning against the door frame. "It's alright. I think it's kinda cute actually." I was pretty sure it was the romance novel I had unearthed whilst snooping around in his house a few weeks ago.

His brows knitted together, a crease surfacing on his forehead. "Cute? I'm not cute, Bambi."

I smirked. "Fine, you're the manliest man I've ever come across. I can literally smell the testosterone from here."