Luna and the Moon [H.S]

14: under the covers.

The freezing air from my fridge-freezer stung my bare skin, my legs and arms now covered in goosebumps. I pulled out a tub of ice cream; salted caramel, before shutting the freezer door and taking two large spoons. One stuck in my mouth and the other in my hand as I shut all the lights off and made my way through my apartment and to the bedroom. Harry was sat up on my bed, his bare back against the wooden headboard and his jogger covered legs hidden by the duvet.

His eyes trained on my television as he pointed the remote control in its direction and flicked through channel after channel. "What did you get?" He asked, green eyes watching me as my foot kicked the door shut as both hands contained either an ice cream tub or a spoon. I mumbled something incoherently, the metal spoon clinking against my teeth as I did so. I dropped the tub on the bed and chucked a spoon in his direction, landing in his lap as I dropped the spoon from my mouth. Tugging down my pyjama shorts slightly as they had ridden up and pulling up the spaghetti strap of my grey vest top as it had slipped down my shoulder. "Ice cream? In winter?"

"It's good trust me," I cheekily grinned, excitedly crawling up the bed and resting on my knees beside him, my knees just brushing against his thigh. His smile and green sparkly eyes looking at me, he reached for the ice cream and cracked it open. "Do you like salted caramel?" He doesn't exactly have a choice on the matter, it's all I have.

"I haven't really tried it," his eyebrows pulled low over his eyes as he scrunched his face up as he focused on taking a spoonful of the hard ice cream. I probably should have plonked it in the microwave to melt for a few seconds. Once he succeeded on getting out a chunk of ice cream he tasted it, humming in appreciation for the sweet taste, the now melted ice cream making his pink lips look glossy. Almost kissable...

I sat down and pushed myself against the headboard, folding my legs and taking the ice cream tub from Harry's hands as he continued searching for something to watch. As I licked the ice cream off my spoon Harry made a small squeaky noise that resembled a fourteen year old girl or the screech of a rubber tyre going harshly around a bend. Startled, I looked his way, he put on a film I didn't recognise immediately.

"What's this?" I asked, the screen displayed a clock, Harry paused it immediately.

"What is this? Are you kidding me?" He sounded offended, reminding me of the day we spoke about fruit and he was offended that I didn't like bananas. We'd miss the opening credits that told you the name of the film, so it made sense that I wouldn't know what this was just by looking at a clock.

"It's The Breakfast Club," he said matter of factly, looking at me like I should've known that. "A true classic of a film. One of the greatest movies I have ever watched," he hyped. I looked at him with an amused smile and a raised brow. I'm more of a modern day film kind of person, I can see Harry is definitely going to find that offensive too.

"I've never seen it."

His jaw slacked open in shock, before the spoon in his hand dropped to the bed, making the smallest of thuds. "You're kidding Luna? Oh good god," he gasped as he discovered I was by far joking around. "How can I be with somebody who hasn't seen classic films?!" My heart halting, I was almost worried I wouldn't be able to remember how to let it beat again. He just implied being with me, sure he didn't specify what being with mean actually meant — did he mean friend? I hope not. A blush creeped into his skin as he realised why I was so quiet, I was just overanalysing his comment of course.

"I've seen Lolita, is that a classic film?"

He snorted, shaking his hair and tossing back a long lock of brown curls that fell over his forehead. "Lolita is not a classic film, now that's offensive to think! That film is gross, think about it; it's an old man secretly loving and having sex with a child?"