cherry (h.s)

sixteen

"I don't want to be your friend, I want to kiss your neck"

*play the song when you see the picture.*

Charlotte Thompson

"Uh-who is it?" I ask, quickly pulling pants up and getting myself together as the knocking continues.

"Who do you think it is." Harry's voice beckons from behind the door.

"Uhm...It's open." I say awkwardly.

What does he want?

He stumbles through the door, with a bottle of alcohol in his hand. He bears a toothy grin, seeing me sitting on the bed.

"I brought goodies." he chuckles, holding the alcohol up.

He sounded like he had broken into that bottle before he came here.

"Are you drunk?" I ask.

He shrugs. "Gettin' there. You could help me."

I couldn't help but feel a small smirk creep upon my lips. "I'm not a big drinker." I say.

He tsks. "Don't you fuckin' lie to me." he says, coming over to the bed and sitting next to me.

He takes a swig and passes the bottle to me. I hesitate before taking it.

I bring the tip of the bottle to my lips, tipping it back to let the strong liquid touch my tongue.

I pucker at the intensity of the liquid. He laughs.

I look over at him. He was staring past me, out the balcony. The sun was beginning to set, casting a golden tone over his face. His green eyes were bright, the setting sun bringing out the emerald of his irises.

There was a natural highlight to his cheekbones. Shadows contrasted, making his jawline appear even more chiseled than it usually was.

"Were you planning on going sleep?" he mumbles, keeping his eyes focused on the sun.

I snap out of the trance his appearance had put me in. "Uh. No." I say.

His eyes flick to mine, and he smirks, making my stomach flutter because clearly he had something planned.

And, knowing Harry, it was probably something devious.

"Wanna do something fun?" he says.

I arch my brow and laugh under my breath. "You can't be serious. Harry, there's people looking for us."

He grabs my chin. "Trust me. Please." he says, very serious and surprisingly genuine.

That's all it took. I was captivated by his eyes, by everything about him. I nod into his hand that held a gentle grip on my chin.

He smiles. "Perfect." he says softly.

*

The street was quiet.

Empty.

Harry and I walked down the cobblestone sidewalk outside the vacant hotel. There wasn't much around here. It seemed like a ghost town.

He had the bottle in his hand, him and I sharing drinks here and there.

With every sip of the alcohol, my throat burned less and less, and I felt more and more loose, not as uptight.

He looked ahead, seeming like he had a destination in mind.

"Do you know where we're going?" I ask.