"So many people are shut up tight inside themselves like boxes, yet they would open up, unfolding quite wonderfully, if only you were interested in them." -Sylvia Plath
"No, I'm actually here to offer you a drive to some ice cream parlor." He declares and I felt my jaw dropping down to the floor.
"You what?" I wanted to check if I miss heard anything.
"Stop making this any harder for me." Harry fairly groans.
"What do you want from me?" I ask, frustrated about the twisting situations.
"Maybe I just want to make it up to you for that day." He shrugs. His causality exasperates me.
I walk past him, ignoring him but something inside me was jumping; forcing me to agree and maybe have a good time.
"Look, I know I went a little far with that and I'm sorry." I turn towards him, shocked by his own words. I really wasn't expecting an apology from him.
"You're what?" My instincts wants to tease but I'm cautious not to give him any friendly sign. To show that it's all right now, because I have a feeling it's not, I still have a feeling he'll return to his previous form and hold all my friendly gestures against me.
"Stop making it worse for me, okay." He warns, "Come on." He leans forward to reach for my hand and I place it on my hip, out of his reach. Our eyes connect for a mere minute, his stunned for an unknown reason. Why does he expect I'll let him touch me so easily?
"Are you coming, or not?" His voice is flat.
"I don't know." I shrug, speaking honestly.
"Come on." He groans like a kid.
After a little battle inside of my head, I give in. I almost forget that Mrs. Barton is in the same room as us, that she is noticing every communication between us.
"Mrs. Barton, can you serve this tea I made to the female in the T.V lounge?" I request. "I have to go somewhere." Harry turns his attention towards me, a smirk forming on his face when I gaze at him.
"Of course, sweet heart." She smiles. "Have fun." I hear her say as we exit the kitchen, something giddy in her voice. I'll make everything clear to her once I get back.
"You're quite stubborn." He says, still smirking.
"You're annoying." He laughs. Is he up to something?
"I have to change." I hold the reeling of the stairs but I'm stopped by Harry grabbing my wrist. The touch lasted for a second before I swiftly pulled my hand from his hold.
"No need. You look fine." I try not to let the comment get to me but my cheeks fairly heat for such a minor compliment. It wasn't even a compliment.
His car was big, and black. Something that gives me a negative vibe for an instance but I ignore it. I expected him to open the door for me but instead he walks around the car to settle on the driving seat.
Slightly disappointed, I walk to my own. His car had a strong scent which did not let me breathe freely for a while but I gradually got used to it. I felt weight on my shoulder for not informing anyone in the house except Mrs. Barton and seating in a car with a boy I have met only thrice. How will my mother react when she finds out? She's going to freak out and probably think extreme of this situation.
"What type of ice cream?" Harry gains my attention. When I look at him, his focus is on the road, one hand on the steering and the other pinching his lower lip. The view was quite captivating that I almost forgot to answer his question.