17BLACK

Chapter 52

I'm unable but to laugh along with Harry as he rolls us over and tickles my side. My hands go limp and I hold them out in surrender.

His lips brush mine lightly, barely touching but the feeling is so intimate that I may faint.

"Everyone is ticklish," he whispers and I can feel every movement of his lips. I'm out of words, so I instead push him off of me.

Two things happen at once - his phone goes off and there's a knock at the door. I wiggle my eyebrows at his ring tone (Call Me Maybe, really Harry?) before sitting up and moving to tend to the door.

"Yellow," I say as I'm swinging the door open. Will rolls his eyes, pulling at his - my - beanie.

"You do realize you sound like an absolute dick when you say that, right?" Aaron chuckles next to him, and I stomp on his shoes.

"I do like dicks. Especially Harry's." I hope he heard me from the living room. Will groans at my words and pushes past me, Aaron lingering behind. I notice how Will didn't comment on my bruised face. Aaron must have warned him.

"Yellow is cool, don't you think so?" He puts on a mask of truthfulness and nods quickly.

"I think it's bloody amazing, Tomlinson. A work of Shakespeare. True poetry." I put my arm around his shoulders as he moves forward, shutting the door with my foot.

"Quality work."

"You're milking it a bit too far, mate."

He brings his fingers together at one point and kisses the tip. "Marvelous!"

"That's enough!"

"Muy bien!" He shrieks. I punch him in the shoulder.

"Screw you," I say, but I'm laughing.

Will is already lounging out on the couch, watching Netflix. That's new - Harry must have only just gotten it. Or maybe he's always had it. It's not like we watch a lot of television, being too preoccupied with... other things.

"Where's Harry?" I take my arm off of Aaron's shoulders and push Will's propped up feet off of the couch cushions.

He flips me off and shrugs, his eyes not leaving the screen.

"Terrace."

Aaron jumps over the back of the couch, landing straight on Will's feet. Will curses loudly and pulls his feet out from under Aaron. They bang loudly against the coffee table. I swear that they're going to trash this place piece by piece.

Harry is standing out on the edge of the terrace, his free arm resting on the railing and he is chewing on his thumb nail. The wind is ruffling his hair and his shirt looks as if it may fly away at any moment.

His back is to me, the muscles looking strained and his legs are locked. I don't know who is on the other line, but they are causing him distress.

He isn't saying much to the conversation. I move to the corner of the glass to get a better view of him. His eyebrows are nearly touching, his lips in a hard line. I long to go comfort him but I don't want to seem clingy so I wait until he has hung up and slid the phone into his pocket before sliding the door open and joining him outside.

He doesn't acknowledge me as I wrap my hands around his waist. I try to ignore the fact that my crotch is pressing him bum, but we do it all the time when I'm riding his motorcycle, so it isn't a big deal. Right?

"Everything okay?" His back stays tense and I lay my head on the area between his shoulder blades. I stay like this for a minute, focusing on his breathing and the beating of his heart. It's steady and calming.