Knockout (Sequel to Dark)

10.2

Harry chats as she fights with the sticky tab sealing the coaster box. But after a few short seconds it's neglected because there's a record player placed on the floor in a wall alcove, just to the left of some boxes overspilling with disks.

"It's a bit hipsterish for you, isn't it?" Bo teases, nodding towards the musical mess.

Her nose crinkles as she grins at Harry over her shoulder before dropping to her knees in front of the boxes. There's a few records propped up against the peeling paint, music which Bo guesses were some of the first to christen Harry's new place.

"Can I have a look?" she asks.

"Couse," he continues. "It was a 'congrats on your new home' gift from my mum. Those old records are from the loft, I've not sorted through them yet."

Bo's fingers flick through the ageing sleeves; evidence of how they were used and adored very much apparent on the worn cardboard cover, a contrast to the unscathed disk.
"You've got some good ones."

Harry's mum was feisty. Straying away from the popular, more documented, trends in music and delving into bands and genres Bo's never heard of. She flips a disk over to study the song listings.

"Just some?"

Bo hears the amusement in his voice but the pride on his mouth is out of her line of sight.

"I don't know most of them," she admits, running her fingers over another mysterious album title.

"My mum had an eclectic taste, still does."

"Well, I think it's safe to say she was a fan of Rod Stewart," she comments, flicking through five consecutive albums.

"If you want my body and you think I'm sexy." The gravelly tone is enough of a musical interlude to cease her movement through the disks. Bo bursts out laughing, falling back on her butt and turning to witness Harry's little performance.

"Come on, sugar, let me know."

His deep bow finishes the ensemble and Bo almost feels like she should applaud. And that's what she does as Harry dramatically basks in the praise.

"Good job I actually know that song, or I'd have thought you were coming on to me."

"The night's still young," he counters and it's to Bo's surprise that she's the recipient of a cheeky wink.

The gesture is enough to have her blushing cheeks think she's being flirted with. A harmless game Bo thought she had become immune to, after hearing cheesy icebreakers in bars and no longer laughing at them.

Her face still feels warm with playful atmosphere when she lifts her head and finds Harry's hand outstretched. She takes it without hesitation, allowing herself to be hoisted upright into the perimeter of Harry's body. Too close to be considered casual and torturous on Bo's senses.

With a smile like a siren song and stormy, green ocean eyes to match, it's somehow difficult for Bo to try and find her sea legs.

"Alright?" he murmurs.

And that about does it. With a couple of adamant nods Bo pulls away before something ridiculous happens, like her telling him she misses the way his mouth fit with hers.

"What colour are you painting it in here?" Bo asks, fingers grazing the sofa arm, heart positively thundering as she meanders to the other side of the room.

She's glad to see Harry provide some distance, taking the temptation away as now she'd have to volt the back of the couch to jump his bones. It isn't the sofa from the old flat, this one is a bit ostentatious in the pattern with scuffed wooden feet. And as Bo sits, it's like falling into a marshmallow, squishy, soft and the perfect place to take a nap.