Skinny Dipping (h.s.)

please do(n't)

here we gooo amigos ! pls vote if you would like !

"So Katerina, huh?" I question as nonchalantly as possible, swinging open the back door of my van. I use my towel to wipe the sand off my feet and hop onto the bed, my legs swinging over the end. I silently hand him the towel to do the same.

Ignoring my question, Harry cranes his neck forward as he takes in the interior of the renovated vehicle, lips parted slightly. He slowly reaches to grab the towel, his eyes still taking in the details. A full sized bed is pushed against the back of the van, unmade with a simple quilt and two pillows tossed haphazardly among it. Wooden cabinets line the ceiling as storage for clothes, food, and whatever other necessities I may need on the road. Past my bed are two counters, both currently extremely messy, one containing a hand pump sink. A dirty bowl with yesterday's leftover oatmeal stuck to it sits in it, and the air smells slightly damp. The stale smell of marijuana is just barely apparent from last summer's countless hotboxes.

Not paying attention, his hand misses the towel and hits my thigh.

Day 232 without sex...

Well, more like year eighteen.

"Sorry," he mutters, looking down for a moment to actually grab the towel. His tall frame bends awkwardly, wiping the sand from his legs, "This is all yours?" He peers at me through his curls as he shakes the towel of sand and swings it over the top of the car door.

"Yeah- it's kind of a huge mess right now, sorry, I didn't really expect anyone besides me to have to witness this," I laugh lightly, crawling over the bed to clean up some, "I swear I usually-"

"No, this is awesome," He cuts me off, flopping back onto the bed, "This is cool right?" He asks, referring to him laying on the bed. His consideration actually warms my heart a bit. Typically, I don't let it bother me when people come in here and poke around, especially because I'm so used to stoner surfers who don't bother drying off or de-sanding themselves before coming in. That being said, thoughtfulness appreciated.

"Yeah, you're all good. Make yourself comfortable. You can eat on the bed, just try your best not to make too many crumbs," I use a metal spoon and a splash of water to scrape the oatmeal bowl clean, finish wiping it off with a baby wipe before putting it away in the storage above the sink.

Besides the distant ocean and the chilly breeze flowing into the car, a silence settles over the two of us as I put things away. The bed creaks as he makes his way over to the front part of the van. As I stand on my tip toes to put away the last dish, he clears his throat as to say something, but no words come out. I look back at him over my shoulder to see that he's standing behind me, the tops of his curls brushing the top of the van, his hands tracing the photos and stickers stuck to my cabinets.

"So not much has changed, huh?" He laughs, placing his finger on a photo of me when I was around three years old, kicking in the water with my arms over pool noodle, sending back a big cheeky grin to the camera, my little baby bum on full display.

"Oh my God that's a good one, one of my favorites," I take a step in front of him and look closer, "I nearly forgot I had that up here."

"There's quite a few good ones all over the place," Harry's arm reaches past my face to point at a more recent photo, and his close proximity forces me to take a deep breath. I nearly feel his breath on my shoulder, and if I were to lean back an inch, I would feel his chest against my back. I force myself to focus on the photograph, ignoring my suppressed hormones screaming at me to pay attention to the male behind me. My eyes travel down his arm, past his veiny hands and long fingers.

In it, I'm facing the camera in my bikini, except instead of a top, my best friend Sirra's hands are holding my tits in an attempt to censor my chest, her face peering from around my back with a crazed smile. My hair is incredibly long and a mess from the wind, my left arm wrapped around her, the other holding my bikini top in the air. I'm looking down at her, laughing. It thoroughly encaptures the energy of my last summer after graduation, where I was so incredibly in love with myself and life. I sigh at the memory, reaching my hand to play with the end of my hair that now barely reaches my shoulders.