under the covers [hs au]

chapter twenty-one.

"You know you don't need me to realize these things, right?" Samira clarified.

"Okay, but I do." Harry sighed, caressing her face with his thumb. "I couldn't sleep this one night because I missed you. I left the light on, and my mum came in to check up on me. I asked her to sit next to me, and she did. We talked for hours until I finally fell asleep."

"Damn, what did y'all talk about?"

His face reddened. "You, mostly."

"Oh," Samira giggled. "What did she say about me?"

"That you sound lovely," Harry mused, poking the dimple on her cheek. "It was nice. I guess we needed that."

Reading his countenance, she could see he was content. Maybe not the happiest, but there was progress where it counted.

"Did she like the swing jacket?"

"She loved it. That, and the tea from Sri Lanka you told me to give her."

"That's where the tea was always from. Colonizer."

Harry laughed, kissing her cheek.

"You know. It's sort of random that you cut your hair."

Samira shrugged: "It felt nice to."

Harry sighed, resting his head on the pillow they shared. The smaragdine in his eyes brightened as he stared at her.

"What?" She asked softly.

He pursed his lips. "Are you okay?"

His voice was luscious and smooth, luring her in like a fish to a hook; the question caught her off guard. It was something she asked everyone, but was never reciprocated—not only from Harry but from a lot of people in her life.

"I'm fine."

"Really?" He replied. "I feel like you're . . . away."

Samira was appalled; he caught onto her habits. The way she read him, he learned to do the same.

"Did something happen at home?" He asked.

"No."

"Sam," he said. "You're not the type to jump into decisions like this."

Samira shifted awkwardly, realizing he was right.

"See, you're acting weird again," Harry mentioned, pointing at her. "You've been doing that all day, darling."

The elephant that sat on her grew heavier and heavier, oddly now because she was with Harry.

The last thing Samira wanted to do was rain on his parade, but ironically, it was already sprinkling—he'd been happy all day, and she didn't want to ruin it.

Harry held her hand in his, kissing her gently as he split her knees. Samira breathed him in, relishing in his touch. But with her mind full of thoughts, her heart began to pound.

"Relax, princess," he mumbled in her ear.

"Harry . . ." Samira whined, feeling his fingers caress her core.

It felt like she was taking advantage of him. He asked her what ran through her head, and she gave him nothing. This wasn't what he deserved.

A wave of restlessness came over her, but she forced herself to fight it. Samira knew it wouldn't go away unless she did something about it.

"Stop," she finally bellowed. Before she could give him time to halt, she pushed Harry off her, sitting up from the bed swiftly.

Samira's chest rose and fell prominently. She clutched his shirt around her body, facing the wall. Harry's irate gaze was felt; she started to sweat, and her tongue was unfamiliar with words.