Haven • H.S.

17. Dates on the Lake

        "Did you just watch me?" I asked in a whisper. I sat up. Yeah, my neck definitely took the fall for sleeping in that position.

        He just smiled-- the one I loved so much-- and got out the car, making his way to my door. When he opened it, he held out a hand which I unceremoniously took while still trying to wake up and not wobble all over the place as I stood. His hands came to my waist to steady me anyways. I looked up at his smirk. "You alright?"

        I was wondering when his asinine ways would make a reappearance, so I smiled back easily. "Wonderful, but you didn't answer my question, babe."

        "Mmm," he hummed, coming closer and pressing me against the side of his car. My heartbeat spiked. "I'll never get used to you calling me that, angel."

        "Harry," I whispered, combing his hair back with my fingers. He closed his eyes lightly at the contact. "Did you watch me while I slept?"

        His eyes opened, only to narrow. "That sounds awful. You're making me out as a pedophile when all I did was simply enjoy your sleepy state. You're beautiful, and I love looking at you. I thought you figured this all out by now?"

        God, he always knew the right things to say. He smiled, bringing his lips down to kiss my cheek softly. "Want me to show you around?"

        I looked around briefly, trying to find a clue as to where we are, other than the massive expanse of water a few hundred feet in front of me. "Are we at the harbor?" I asked, my smile expanding. I took his hand.

        "We are," he replied, watching me as I took in everything.

        "Wow," I whispered. Because, wow was right. Above the water was a glimpse of the sun starting to set; the pink and purple colors of the sky meeting the blue to create one beautiful, breath-stealing mixture. It was something you'd find in a painting. "This is crazy gorgeous."

        I could feel Harry's eyes on me for a drawn out moment. I couldn't stop staring in awe. They didn't have skies like this back in New York City.

        "Come on, baby." His hand tightened around mine, and he began dragging me with him until we came to a stop right near the shore. I wasn't in the business of lying to myself when it came to how good it was to touch Harry. He was soft and firm in all the right aspects, and I'd learned to love every inch I'd seen so far.

        There was a quaint wooden bench right next to us, allowing a view of the entirety. "Here," he faintly muttered, and pulled me next to him on the bench. "I wish I would've prepared more to come here, we could've had a picnic...or," he shuffled a bit in his seat, "something. But I was just driving around when you were sleeping and saw how beautiful that sky looks. I knew just the right place to be able to see it clearly."

        I smiled, leaning in closer to him, tightening my fingers through his. It was already one of the most relaxing moments I've ever experienced in my life. The silence and serenity of the night had this way of making you drowsy, there was no hustle and bustle of the busy city down here.

        "It's perfect," I said, hoping my words came out as truthful as I wanted them. They didn't. I had a hard time thinking they would be able to. I couldn't put this in words. I was most likely so astounded because in the back of my mind I was aware no one had ever done things, or been as nice to me ever, as Harry has in the time I've known him. He was everything and more.

        "Is this a date?" Harry asked from beside me. I pulled myself out of my thoughts.

        "I don't know," I said, amused. "Is it?"

        "If it is then I would feel bad." When I turned to look at him, ignoring how beautiful his eyes looked from the reflecting sunset, I spotted his small smirk.

        "Oh?" I decided to play along. "And why's that?"

        "I mean, come on. Our first date was at Fenway fucking park for a Red Sox game. I'm pretty sure this idea for a date has to be completely horrible compared to that." He scoffed.

        I sobered quickly when I realized maybe this wasn't a joke to him. From what I gathered by the look on his face, maybe he was actually self conscious of this being our second date.

        I smothered my frown. "Harry." I used my free hand to touch his arm, rubbing circles into the skin with my thumb. "If this was our second date, I would be ecstatic, honestly."

        He watched the movements my thumb was making. Without looking up, he mumbled, "Really?"

        He acutely resembled a four-year-old getting a scolding after they've gotten caught red-handed eating a cookie before dinner time. I let out a chuckle, trying to desperately think of ways I can show him that he doesn't need to walk on egg shells with me, that he doesn't need to have everything perfect or be perfect. It would be a boring life if everything was figured out for us ahead of time.

        "Yes," I said. "It's amazing out here."

        "You sure?" He continued to ask.

        "I'm positive." I leaned up to peck his cheek. He turned his head to look down at me and I met his eyes. I failed to remember just how breathtaking his features were. I looked at them every chance I could get and yet that didn't seem like enough. He leaned down slightly, puckering his lips adorably, and I gathered he expected me to meet him half way. I quickly tilted my head to meet them, and he smiled slightly through the soft touch. The hand that wasn't occupied in mine reached up to cup my cheek, tentatively using his fingers to work a few strands of hair behind my ear. In a moment of courage, I pressed my lips harder against his, deepening the breathless act and surging my tongue forward. He let out a quiet and surprised gasp, tightening his fingers in my hair, meeting my tongue with his own.

        He tugged me closer silently, bringing me sideways along the bench so I had better leverage, reaching his lips easier but never detatching them. God, I loved it when he kissed me like this. There was nothing better than the feel of his demanding mouth winning mine over. Nothing had ever felt this good.

        "Not a bad second date after all," he pulled back only fractionally to mumble breathlessly against my lips, and then he was back to kissing me, firmly. He pushed into me more, finally loosening my fingers with the hand he'd never let go of until now, and he used it to guide mine to his silently telling me he enjoyed whenever I had tugged at the soft hair previously. Then, he brought his up to the other side of my neck, to match his other one. They were both working on holding me to him, as if afraid I'd pull back and stop kissing him.

        His fingers dropped, almost hesitantly, to the crevice where my shoulders met my neck, giving me a soft squeeze before moving lower. Slowly, his fingers whispered over the skin of my bare arms, down to meet my hands again. His mouth continued its exploration against mine, and he moved them until his fingers were gently gripping my waist. When he was satisfied he'd gotten to that point safely, he tightened his grip and pulled until I realized what he was doing. I situated my self upright, and brought a leg over his lap, finding the bench we were sitting on unhelpful rather than uncomfortable, and straddled him. He let out a breath in my mouth, finally wrapping his arms around my waist and bringing me closer. "God, Ella," he breathed.

        Slowly but surely, he was unhinging me into a person no longer recognizeable, and it was such a stark contrast to the person I'd been for so long that I didn't fear it. I welcomed it, just like I knew Harry had.

        Finally, with apparent reluctance, he pulled back. The space between our lips was almost non-existent yet it gave enough space to breath. My inhales were his exhales. His exhales were my inhales.

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"...we are the boxes in the ring, we are the bells that never sing, there is a title we can't win no matter how hard we might swing.." -the last goodnight

*edited*