camp cherry two | hs

sixteen

"Okay, I promise to stop being such an idiot," he smiles, shaking his head as his eyes flicker to my lips.

"Thank you, very appreciated. We can leave at half-past five, okay?" I compromise so he won't panic all over again, though I'm sure I'll have to calm his stress tomorrow, too.

"Half five, that's fine. Breakfast in two minutes, let's go," he grasps my hand and pulls a t-shirt over his head, his hair messed up even more before he runs a hand through the curls and they seem to fall into place perfectly. "Wear this?" he requests, reaching out his hand with the green jacket I had worn on the last day of camp the previous year, and I'm ironically wearing a rather similar outfit; black sweatpants and a white top, the thin straps making strange tan lines on my shoulders whenever I wore it.

"Can I wear it tomorrow on the plane?" I ask, knowing he'd agree anyway.

"Of course, it's a bit small for me now anyway, you can have it."

"I have basically all your clothes, Harry."

"Yeah, but I steal your scrunchies when you're not looking."

"Harry! Is that where my cherry one went?" I ask in playful offence, swatting at his chest on the way to the dining hall.

"Yeah, I took it ages ago, wore it when I wasn't with you."

"Can I have it back?"

"Can I have all my clothes back?" he retorts, knowing full well what my answer would be.

"No."

"Then, no, it's mine. Thank you, Cherrypop," he smiles sweetly, something he usually only does when he's trying to piss me off - I'm not sure why he's trying to annoy me when we need to be best of friends tomorrow so it'll hopefully run much smoother.

"Don't push it today," I warn jokingly, though I mean it - I've been weirdly moody recently. Harry was confused about it; it took much less for me to get grumpy or sad, and he made the classic mistake a few days ago of asking if I was 'PMSing' which resulted in a deathly glare from me and a few hours of painful silence until I got over it.

"Trying not to," he shrugs with an innocent smile, disappearing to retrieve a full plate of food for both of us, though he knew he'd probably end up eating half of my plate either way. Surprisingly, I end up eating the entire thing and hungrily eyeing the small amount of food left.

"Harry, get me a mars bar, baby," I ask him as we make our way back home, his face dropping into a confused frown, however, he buys me one which I devour in thirty seconds without hesitation.

"You hate mars bars..." he observes, clearly very uncertain.

"Maybe it's the stress," I suggest, Harry humming in thought, "or my period. Birth control can mess it up sometimes as you said."

"Do you want anything? I can get more tampons if you're running low, I'll run to the store and get you loads chocolate," he smiles; he looks adorable right now.

"I have enough, and I eat too much chocolate, stop enabling my addiction," I laugh, my fingertips trailing along his clothed, hard chest as he brushes a loose strand of hair out of my face.

"You're pretty," he murmurs, almost as if he didn't mean to articulate it.

"You're not," I tease, his eyes lighting up in humour.

"Shut up, idiot," he rolls his eyes and stares at me blankly.

"You're amazing," I smile with mock enthusiasm.

"So are you," he whispers back as if it's a secret, and I grin childishly and rest my head on his shoulder. "I can't believe you're gonna be nineteen soon, you're so old," he chuckles, dodging my light punch to the arm.