Sex Lessons 2 [h.s//fanfic]

|Chapter 7|

S T E L L A

My creative writing class ends with Professor Daniel reminding us to make a personal entry about what honesty in writing means to us. I cringe at the irony of the task and try to shelve the thought of Harry into the deepest parts of mind,  just like I have been for the past couple of weeks. 

I have to tell him. I will. I'll explain how I had too many drinks, how Ralph kissed me, that I hadn't kissed him back or wanted to. The longer I wait, the more damage will be done.  

I stack my books into my purse, urgently, wanting to put as much space between Ralph and I so I can leave the classroom without him noticing me. I have been successful in avoiding him the past 2 weeks.

Today, I have no such luck. 

"Hey, wait! I finally caught you today," Ralph appears in front of me, shouldering his own book-bag, one hand shoved in his front pocket. His dark hair is neatly groomed back, framing his chiseled face. I observe the flat curve of his pink mouth, his pointed nose. How a few beauty marks freckle his tan face. 

He appears nervous, and a part of me feels for him sincerely. I lead him on. I told him I was single. I can't him blame for his behavior. 

"You've been flying out of here." He pulls his full lip between his teeth, eyes meeting mine. 

I look away. "I'm sorry. Just busy." I head for the door and to my dismay, he follows me, keeping up with my pace. 

"We just never got to talk about the party. . ." He trails off, his gaze never leaves me. I see it in my peripheral vision. 

"There isn't much to talk about, Ralph." 

Ralph grips my elbow, gently nudges me into a secluded area of the hallway. I feel my heart begin to flutter in my chest as his large hand drops down, slowly cusping my wrists before they completely drop away. "We kissed. I kissed you." He clarifies.

"And that was a mistake," I shake my head. "We were drunk. That was it. I'm sorry." 

"It didn't feel like a mistake." His eyes land on my lips, and I touch them, my breath hitching in my throat. "You're still thinking about it, aren't you?" 

He's close to my face. Really close. I can feel his minty breath fanning against my nose and I hold my breath, trying to keep my composure. 

"I can't stop thinking about you. How soft your lips were. It's driving me insane." He holds onto my elbows, pulling me a little closer. I hate myself for how I suddenly feel out of control. Planted in place.

I close my eyes, slowly, and when I open them he's already cocking his head to the side, his mouth aligning with mine. 

"No." I push him away by the chest and scatter away, exiting the classroom building and welcoming the sun before he has a chance to react. It sobers me instantly and I choke back tears, fighting them all the way home. How could I almost let it happen a second time?

◈◈◈

When I arrive at the apartment, Harry is standing over the stove, one hand holding a blunt, the other stirring a pot of what smells like chicken soup. I  can't help but smile thinking about this small detail about him; how much he loves his homemade chicken soup because it reminds him of his mother and Lux. Of home. I wonder if he's feeling a bit homesick and a pang of guilt hits me realizing I haven't asked him how he's felt about our transition since we moved here. 

When the door clicks behind me, he buds the rest of his blunt and holds a spoon to my mouth to taste. 

"Right on time for lunch, hm?"He asks. I wrap my lips around the spoon, my eyes locked on his. His gaze lingers over my face before he turns back to his soup again. It sends a chill through me. I can't tell if he's trying to read me or if it's me. If my behavior has changed.