𝐯𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 (hs)

𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫

"Why?" I peer up at him, finally taking him in fully. His head of curls were held back by gel, his usually suit-clad figure dressed in black slacks and a white collared shirt, the buttons halfway undone to showcase his tan, toned torso. His sleeves were messily rolled up, revealing ink painted on his forearms. My mouth was watering just at the sight of him.

"Too occupied with work." His eyes divert to me, catching my wandering eyes in the act.

"Where did you live before moving here?"

"Chicago."

"What made you move? Quite an opposite change."

"The city became too much for me. Wanted to move someplace tranquil." 

"You'd think Chicago would be the ideal place for business in trade. How are you able to keep work in a low place like this? We're far from everything."

"Didn't realize I signed up for an interview, sweetheart." Harry retorts, cocking his head to the side in amusement. My stomach fluttered with butterflies at the pet name. 

"I-I'm just trying to create conversation." I shrugged innocently. 

"No conversation a sixteen year old would take an interest in."

"I'm eighteen, actually." I correct, folding my arms in front of me. I don't know why his mistake of my age irritated me. 

The infamous smirk rose upon his face. "Speaking of 'trying to create conversation', why don't you inform me a little about yourself."

"There's not much to tell." I go quiet again.

"I beg to differ."

"What do you want to know?"

"Anything." Harry shrugs, taking his bottom lip between his teeth. 

"Just a girl from Virginia who comes to Key West every year on vacation for three weeks." I disliked being asked to talk about myself, I never knew what to say that was interesting enough without having it sound like an interview. 

"Oh, when did you arrive?"

"Just a couple days ago." 

"When do you leave?"

"I believe the twenty-sixth..."

Harry only nods, puckering his lips as he chewed the inside of his cheek, looking off at the ocean once again. Why does he need to know when we leave? Perhaps to clean the place up for us after we go as he does own it. Speaking of owning houses, that reminds me.

"Where do you live?" I grab his attention.

He takes a moment to answer. "The third house on Whitehead. I assume you know where exactly."

"I do." I nod, picturing the house in my head. He lived there? A two story, pearl white home, beautiful as can be with the most breathtaking yard of evergreen, slightly hidden in privacy. I suppose it didn't surprise me that Harry occupied that residency, learning he rents out houses around town and makes a bit of money. A bit spacious for only one man, assuming he wasn't married... I don't notice a ring. "The garden is beautiful, your wife must take good care of it."

"I'm not married." He clarifies, looking down at me.

"Oh..." I mask the smile I mentally gave myself. "I would've thought you were."

"And why's that?" He tilts his head, eyes full of mirth. 

"W-Well, because..." Crap, how do I explain this. "you seem like a very nice, kept man."

"That's sweet of you." He praises in a monotone voice as his focus lie ahead on the setting sun, the orange tone of the sunset irradiating his features. His sharp jaw clenched as he turned his head towards me, eyes piercing down into mine with a remark that rose goosebumps upon my skin. "But there are things you don't know about me, angel."