*✧･ﾟ:* DEAD TO ME *:･ﾟ✧*
✧━━━━━━━━━━━✧
IF THERE WAS one thing that Indiana Jones wasn't, it was a damsel in distress. A damsel was some flimsy, dependent broad who probably sat around waiting for others to do things for them, waiting for some random prince who probably wore too much gel in his hair to save her from the tower that — if Indiana was being honest — actually seemed like a pretty sick place to live (if you can find a way out, of course). And even if she was a damsel in a tower, she reckoned she'd be able to find a way out before Mr. Prince even found the tower in the first place.
When Potter stormed into that courtroom, wearing that jet black suit, too-tight dress shirt and ferociously determined expression, Indiana decided that she didn't mind being a damsel for a little while. Her tower was a black, unbreakable iron cage and rather than having miles of magical hair, she had rusted manacles about her wrists and a dirty, striped prison uniform. So if Harry Potter had to be her prince for an hour, she figured that would really be alright.
When Indiana returned to Hogwarts to complete her seventh year, there were only three weeks until graduation, thus ending her career as both student and Slytherin Quidditch Captain. Whilst she was gone, it had been announced that Slytherin had won the Quidditch Cup, which for once, she did not care much. She'd be the talk of the school once she stepped foot into the castle, and not in the good way.
Rita Skeeter had been in the courtroom, therefore the Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly had written at least a piece or two on her trials. No doubt they'd blab on about that false-memory Harry had created in his successful attempt to help her. Bloody reporters.
She had arrived early in the morning on Friday (she had stayed home for a few days just to gather herself together and get rid of the constant chill she had gotten from being housed with the dementors), and she immediately realized that the rest of the students were enjoying breakfast in the Great Hall.
The corridors were empty, aside from the occasional cat or rat, and even though her tie was loosened and her skirt was rolled and she knew she looked good, she did not want anyone to see her. No amount of concealer could have covered up the bags under her tired eyes, and even with her sleeves flat against her skin, she could not help but wonder if everyone would be looking for her Dark Mark, now that word was out. Or, perhaps, they were searching for those fun tattoos she had been forced to receive. She wasn't sure which she hated more.
At the sound of footsteps behind her, she clutched her wand and spun around, expecting to see someone ready to throw insults at her, but at the sight of the students, she sighed in relief.
"Indiana, hi!" said Hermione in a chipper voice, her pink lips curving upwards into a bright beam. Indiana's shoulders deflated in relief, and she smiled at her.
"Hi, Hermione," she said, her eyes darting to Ron Weasley, who held onto the Gryffindors hand leisurely. She blinked at him before curly nodding and saying, "Weasley."
His brows jumped up at her cordialness, but with a furtive look at Hermione, he said, "Hi."
Hermione pressed her lips together, brown eyes glancing in between the two of them before she jolting towards Indiana with a small, "Oh!" Arms slung around her neck, Indiana hesitantly returned the embrace, wrapping her arms about the curls torso. The girl's hair smelled like Sleek Eazy's and hairspray, and Indiana felt like she was going to cry all of a sudden.
She buried her head into the girls shoulder, tightening her embrace and not really caring that Weasley was probably just standing and staring at his feet. She never thought she'd say this, but Hermione Granger was her friend. A good one, at that, and it didn't matter if she was Muggleborn or Gryffindor or whatever it was. She was just good.
"It's good to have you back," Hermione told her, pulling away and smiling sadly. She had tears pricking her eyes, and Indiana playfully tapped her on the cheek.
"Quit crying, I'm not dead," She said, although she felt like crying herself. Hermione chuckled and wiped at her face, backing away. "Uhm... is Nance in there?"
Turning pink, Hermione nodded. "Yeah, with Zabini and Nott and them. But — but you're more than welcome to — y'know, sit with us... and... and Harry."
"That's okay," Indiana sheepishly rubbed the back of her neck. "I'll just... play it safe for now."
She followed Hermione and Weasley into the Great Hall, hiding behind them for a moment as a minimal amount of heads turned at the sound of the doors opening. The tables were filled with lavish food and golden platters and looked the same as it had when she left, but it seemed different. Brighter, maybe.
And so, bidding goodbye to the Gryffindors, she kept her eyes directed forward as she hurried her way towards the Slytherin table. Her seat beside Nancy and Theodore was open, as always, and she suddenly felt the urge to sprint over and give them each a kiss on the cheek or some other affectionate gesture of the sort.
She barely noticed all the students looking at her; the frightened looks of first years, the curious glances from the staff members, accusatory expressions from older students. The only one she noticed (or cared about, really) was one from the Gryffindor table; a rather tall boy with unmanageable raven hair and scratched glasses, who wore the sort of smile that unfurled unknowingly, as though he simply could not help it. She stared at him for a moment, sending him a smirk and a wink before avoiding his gaze all together. Still got it, she thought.
"ANA!" said Blaise rather loudly, bolting out of his seat and scrambling to his feet before practically sprinting towards her to throw his arms around her. Laughing, she hugged him back, swaying side to side in the embrace and tugging his strong shoulders closer towards her.
She felt another pair of arms around her, and when she turned her head and saw a pair of eyelids with glittery blue eyeshadow and smelt the sugary-sweet perfume, she knew it was Nancy. Her heart leaped.
"Sorry about my dad," said a meek voice of another person, with a head of mousy brown hair and a pair of powdery blue eyes joined them. Theodore's long arms had engulfed all of them, and he had a guilty expression on. "He kinda... ratted you out..."
"Water under the bridge," Indiana told him teasingly, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. She wondered how many other students were staring at the group of them.
"Oh, get up, you idiot," said Nancy breathily, and Indiana turned her head to see Draco Malfoy still sitting. Indiana grinned at him despite being squeezed to death by the three other Slytherins, and Draco huffed.
"I hate you guys," He muttered, swinging his legs over the bench and placing his arms around the clump of Slytherins. "Hiya, Ana."
Indiana laughed, using part of her hand to whack him on the side. Reluctantly, he smiled and let himself fall into the group's embrace. For a moment, all was well.
✧✧✧
"SO YOU'VE GOT the tattoos?" said Nancy as they exited their Transfiguration class. Classes had gone on as they always had if you ignored the glares and terror-filled expressions from a few other classmates. "Like Sirius Black had in his mugshot? Do you have a mugshot?"
"Yes and yes," Indiana said quietly. Everyone had been asking her questions about what happened, but she'd only answer to Nancy. "Here, look —" She tugged at the opening of her shirt, showing the other girl the slightest bit of black ink that peeked through the white fabric.
"Woah," She said. "And the mugshot? I bet you look totally badass."
Indiana pursed her lips, blinking, before giving in and nodding. "Yeah, it's actually not an awful picture of me, minus how ruddy awful my hair looked, but anyway —"
"Oh, oh, oh!" Nancy chirped, her hand whacking Indiana on the elbow multiple times with her eyes trained ahead. Not noticing what this was about, Indiana whacked her back.
"What, what, what?" She replied.
"It's Potter," Nancy said hurriedly. "He's walking over — he's literally — Potter!"
"Fuck you," Indiana muttered, feeling her neck grow hot as the Gryffindor approached them. His scarlet and gold tie was a bit loosened as though he had been anxiously tugging on it, and she watched his long fingers ruffle through his dark hair as he came towards them.
"Can I — erm — steal her?" He asked Nancy, pursing his lips awkwardly. His green eyes kept darting in between Indiana and the rest of her surroundings as though he were too afraid to stare at her for too long. Nancy nodded, pushing Indiana forward.
"Go for it! She's all yours!" Nancy said lightly, and at Indiana's glare, she said, "See ya, Ana!"
"Yeah, bye," Indiana muttered, glancing once at Harry before she averted her eyes to her feet. Students walked around them in the hustling and bustling hallway, a sizable amount of them turning their heads at the sight of the pairing. "Hi."
"What's wrong?" he asked almost immediately. She furrowed her brows.
"What d'you mean?" She asked hurriedly, rolling her shoulders a bit. "M'fine. Nothin's wrong. What's wrong with you?"
"You're acting weird," he said bluntly, staring at her. She didn't meet his eyes. She wondered how red her face had gotten. "Is everything...? Wait, hold on..."
He continued to stare at her. Blinking violently, she promptly locked eyes with him before shifting her eyes away again.
"Look, can we just —?"
"Merlin, are you blushing, Jones?" He asked in a cocky tone, one she had only heard during Quidditch matches and competitive things of the sort. Probably turning more crimson, she huffed wordlessly and brushed past him, speeding away. Laughing to himself, he turned on his heel and jogged after her. "You totally are! Wow!"
"Shut your mouth, Potter," She grumbled. He kept looking down at her with that stupid, toothy grin and pink-dusted cheeks and Merlin, he literally was doing nothing at all and he was making her chest flip. "And for your information, I'm not blushing. I'm just refraining from hexing your stupid face."
He clicked his tongue.
"Not your best, Indiana," He quipped. She would never get used to him saying her name. "And this stupid face is making you nervous, isn't it?"
"Fuck off," She said bluntly. He let out another laugh.
"Don't deny it," He said lightly, and to her surprise, he nudged her shoulder with his. "You know I'm right."
"What I know is that you've got too much energy for — what is it? — nine o'clock in the morning," She told him, sending him a sideways glance. He rolled those bright green eyes of his before letting them land on her again, his lips pressed into a grin that she almost mistook for a smirk. "What're you doing here, anyway? I share my next class with the Puffs."
"What, can I not walk with you to your class?" He asked rhetorically.
"Technically, you can, but..." Indiana glanced around furtively. "People'll... talk..."
"Oh, about that..." He trailed off, one of his hands scratching the back of his neck. "People already... erm... know..."
"What?" Indiana snapped. "What're you talking about?"
"Well, the Prophet wrote all about the memory," Harry told her carefully. "People kind of just... assumed..."
"You kill me, Potter," Indiana told him under her breath as she turned to enter her Charms classroom. Harry frowned a bit.
"It's Harry," He corrected in a stern and yet still light tone. "Thought we talked about this?"
"Every word you say goes in one ear and out the other," Indiana drawled, turning around and sending him a smirk. Instead of quipping back something equally as sassy, he flashed his teeth in a bright grin and — oh god — winked.
"See you," He told her, slumping his hands into his pockets and sauntering away. Taking a deep inhale, Indiana closed her eyes for a moment before turned and entered the Charms classroom. He'd be the death of her, she was sure of it.
✧✧✧
"LET ME SEE, let me see!" Hermione Granger was practically bouncing on her toes, clutching her Charms textbooks to her Gryffindor tie clad chest and staring at Indiana's approaching figure with wide, excited eyes. She held a paper behind her back, hiding it from the other girl's sight. "Oh, come on!"
"Unfortunately..." Indiana began, offering a faux frown. Hermione, taking this as real, pouted. Indiana then whipped the paper out from behind her back, letting the girl's eyes land on the bright, red O scrawling in messy handwriting. "I fuckin' passed!"
With a loud squeal of pride, Hermione accidentally dropped her textbook and flung her arms around the Slytherin's shoulders, swaying back and forth and to and fro with such vigor that Indiana almost twisted her ankle. Passing by students eyed them strangely, some with judging eyes, but Indiana truly did not give two shits. She hadn't gotten this high a score on a Charms test since her fifth year.
"I told you! I told you you could do it," Hermione said encouragingly, grabbing the test from her to look down at her answers. "Oh, and you got the question on Nonverbal Charms right! You always forgot that one, didn't you?"
"Well, thanks to you, my brain has magically grown in size," Indiana gave her a closed-eyed smile. "I'd've failed without you, Granger."
"Oh," Hermione waved a hand dismissively, although Indiana had the feeling she knew it just the same. "Congratulations. It's all you. You just needed to learn how to actually study."
"I studied," Indiana said defensively. "Although, most sessions ended in either a snog or a cigarette..."
"Both of which are not very helpful to your grades," Hermione told her in a motherly tone. "But, now I suppose you can't study with Harry..."
"Thank god," Indiana drawled. "Maybe I can finally concentrate without his incessant tapping."
"Oh, quit it," Hermione nudged her shoulder. "I bet you're just dying to get down to the kitchens, aren't you?"
"The kitchens?" Indiana paled just a bit. "What's...? What's so special about the kitchens?"
Hermione let out a loud laugh and said, "I think you forget that Harry's one of my best friends."
"....So?"
"So," Hermione scoffed. "He tells me things. Or, well... he tells Ron things, and Ron tells me."
"Oh, yeah?" Indiana cocked an eyebrow. "And what'd Weaselbee tell you?"
"I wish you wouldn't call him that," Hermione told her.
"Ah, you only get three wishes, and I'm afraid that can't be one of them," Indiana clapped her hands together in front of her chest like a genie. Hermione blinked. "Oh, c'mon. Aladdin?"
"How do you know about a Disney film?" Hermione asked shrewdly.
"Nancy went through the entire movie scene by scene for me," Indiana shrugged her shoulders, stuffing the Charms test into her bag. "Hey, y'think you could take me to one of those thea-tres?"
"A theatre? A movie theatre?" Hermione laughed. Indiana pursed her lips.
"Whatever it's called," Indiana muttered. "I wanna go."
"Fine, then," Hermione nodded. "It's a date."
✧✧✧
HER FINGERS WERE itching at her sides, her mouth dry, a sharp pain right in between her eyes. She had already devoured two bowls of buttered pasta, as well as two cups of hot chocolate, but nothing was satisfying her craving. She would kill a small village for a cigarette.
But she couldn't. She had promised both Nancy and herself that she'd stop, especially if she wanted to go further into Quidditch like she planned. She knew it was fucking up her lungs, like, royally, and that it could kill her. And since the end of the trials and the upcoming of a certain green-eyed pain-in-the-ass, she felt less cold. Warmer. Hopeful, even.
Maybe she shouldn't have gone to the kitchens. The kitchens were her ideal place to smoke, and if she was trying not to do just that, maybe she shouldn't have gone to the place where her urge to do so wouldn't be the strongest. But maybe it wasn't about the cigarette. Maybe it was because she was expecting Harry to show up, because he always seemed to show up whenever she was there.
And so, when the door creaked open, she convinced herself she was psychic. Or, maybe Harry was psychic. She ran her teeth over her bottom lip due to the smile she was holding back and didn't bother turning around. She could not be getting this excited when all he did was open a door and take a few steps into the kitchens.
His shoulder brushed hers as he slipped into the seat beside her, a rush of pine and something that reminded her of toffee flooding her senses. He had sort of rested his hands in his lap, not yet turning his head to glance at her yet. He said nothing, she said nothing.
Indiana side-eyed him. He glanced over. They both averted their eyes. Christ, since when did things get so... so... awkward?
"No cigarette?" he asked her after a prolonged period of silence. Indiana was glad he had broken the quiet space and shook her head no.
"Nope," She said, leaning back. "Bad for Quidditch."
"So I've been told," he quipped, shifting his eyes at her again. She didn't look away this time, her eyebrow twitching up. Harry pressed his lips together as though to conceal a smile and turned his head away again. "Uhm... it's nice outside, isn't it?"
"Is this small talk?" Indiana blurted. "We are not small-talking."
"I literally said one sentence," he said.
"I am not sitting here so you can ask me about the weather," Indiana said, grabbing the mug that held the remainder of her hot chocolate and downing it before getting to her feet. "Up you get."
"Why?" Harry asked, complying nonetheless. Indiana walked ahead of him, and trailed behind like a stray puppy, even going as far as to close the door behind her as she exited the kitchens. Lowering his voice, he said, "Where're we going?"
"I dunno, around," Indiana shrugged, starting down the hallway. "Filch isn't out, is he? You got that stupid map with you?"
"How d'you think I found you?" He grinned, shoving his hand into the pocket of his jeans and pulling out the folded piece of parchment.
He then took out his wand, muttering I solemnly swear I am up to no good as Indiana watched over his shoulder as the small footprints and lines that resembled passageways were drawn by an invisible quill across the blank space.
Harry opened his mouth to speak and turned his head, but seeing her head just right behind his shoulder, he whipped his head forward again and kept his eyes on the map.
Cheeks red, he said, "He's on the third floor. We should be alright."
"Brilliant," Indiana quipped, unfazed. "Off we go, then."
Neither of them said much for a long while. She felt like she could barely blurt out full sentences when he had such a content look on his face, like he had been waiting to find her and hang out with her all day. She felt like she was taking a puppy for a walk.
"Hey, Potter?" she spoke up, her voice softer than before. He shifted his green eyes to her for a moment.
"Harry," He corrected. She pursed her lips.
"Harry," she reiterated. Taking a deep breath, she glanced at him for a moment before saying, "I'm sorry."
He furrowed his brows. "What for?"
She couldn't help the laugh that came up from her throat. "Everything."
"Indiana, you..." He paused. "You didn't do anything wrong."
"Actually, I did a lot wrong," Indiana breathed. He didn't say anything. "For starters... I literally bullied you and your friends."
"Yeah, but that's —"
"And then I made fun of you for being a virgin," Indiana went on, chest twisting. His face turned red. "And — and there's really nothing wrong with being a virgin. Nothing at all. I — I was just angry with you and needed to find something to poke fun at you for. And this isn't me making excuses for it, it's just... letting you know why."
"Indiana —"
"And after that night in the Quidditch Commons, I didn't even listen to what you were saying," she went on. "I was just so scared about Azkaban that I didn't even take the time to think that you... you were a good person. I should've known better."
"Well... thank you," Harry said slowly. "For apologizing."
"And I told Blaise about what happened," Indiana blurted suddenly. Harry blinked. "Everything that happened with us. Like everything. Like — like details I should have kept in between us and I shouldn't have just told him everything, it was private stuff and I should've kept my mouth shut and I'm so sorry —"
"Indiana!" Harry interrupted, halting and clasping both hands on her shoulders. She clamped her mouth shut, blinking wordlessly up at him. "It's okay. Really. If it makes you feel any better, I kind of told Hermione and Ron everything, too. It's alright. I understand."
"You — you —" Indiana began, looking bewildered. "You're not mad?"
"What? No!" Harry laughed. "Well, maybe when I found out from Zabini I was a little bothered, but not anymore. Hell, I'm glad he knows. Now he knows not to try anything."
"Try anything?" Indiana said slowly. "What d'you mean?"
"Like — like —" He stammered. "Cause he knows that we — we have — oh, quit smiling like that, you know what I mean..."
"Blaise and I are just friends," Indiana reassured him, a swarm of butterflies flapping around her stomach at the idea of Harry being jealous. "Nothing to worry about."
"Good."
Another flipping in her chest, she bit back a grin and said, "Okay."
They walked for what seemed like hours, the silence interrupted with small sentences or observations that although seemed trivial, Indiana held onto them with both hands. Her headache from the nicotine withdrawal had faded just a bit, and she couldn't help but wonder whether it was because of him or not. It wasn't until they sat down that they got to talking.
"...and I looked down at the hat, and the sword was there, so I took it out and just —" he made a series of violent movements with his arms that resembled him slashing the weapon around. "— and then it bit me, but I stabbed it, and then I was bleeding everywhere."
"But it's a basilisk bite," Indiana said matter-of-factly. "That would've killed you instantly!"
"Well, yeah, I figured I'd die down there," Harry said casually. "But then Fawkes — Dumbledore's phoenix — flies over and sings this song and starts crying over my shoulder. And at first I was really confused but then the tears were landing in the wound and healing it!"
"But what about Tom Riddle?" Indiana inquired, leaning forward. They were sitting opposite one another, legs criss-crossed and knees touching, leaning against the wall under a large, stained-glass window in which the pale moonlight seeped in through shades of blue and purple.
"I grabbed the diary, took one of the basilisk fangs and stabbed it right through the cover," Harry went on. Indiana got the impression that after all these years, he had found it enjoyable to be able to tell all of these stories. And who knew that Indiana would be so invested in them? "And he yelled out something I can't quite remember and just... faded away. The end."
"Woah," Indiana breathed. "Y'know, I always thought you were lying about that. I didn't think you actually slayed the basilisk."
"Yeah, well..." Harry shrugged his shoulders a bit, shifting his eyes to her for a moment before averting them to a small crack in the stone floors before he shifted around, moving so one leg was bent and his back was leaning against the cold stone wall. Resting one arm on his bent knee, the other leg straightening in front of him, she eyed a blueish white streak of moonlight trail over the lines of his shoulder and up onto the cut of his jawline and daring to spill into one of his iris'. "What?"
She blinked. He had caught her. Instead of turning away like she initially intended, she curled her lips up at him, smiling.
"Nothin'," She said happily. She liked watched the crimson blush spread up his neck and onto his cheeks. She really did.
"Okay," He said softly. And she realized he was staring at her, too, looking dazed. "You..."
But he cut himself off, shaking his head and muttering something to himself.
"What?" She asked, tilting her head to the side just a bit. A coil of her hair drifted down from atop her head and hovered right over the now berry-red apple of her cheek. His eyes shifted downwards at it, down to her lips, and then back up to her eyes.
"Nothing," he shook his head again. "I was just... you're just... no, no, I can't..."
"Oh, c'mon, Potter," Indiana let out a laugh, "Where'd all the confidence go?"
"Couldn't tell you," He breathed out, blinking twice before adjusting his glasses that had slid a bit too far down the bridge of his aquiline nose. "Are you... erm — do you —"
"Come out, come out!" came a gruff voice from down the hall. Harry's eyes popped out of his skull, and he glanced down at the ground where the map was sitting. Filch was right down the hall. They traded looks, silently getting to their feet and frantically searching for an escape route.
"Right there!" Indiana whisper-hissed, pointing at an unrecognizable door that she prayed stood in between them and an abandoned classroom or something sizable. She lead the way, tip-toeing as fast as she could until she wrapped her hand around the door knob and pulled.
You've got to be kidding.
"Let's find a different —" Indiana began, turning away from the broom closet. Harry made a movement to turn as well, but at the sight of Mrs. Norris, he grabbed her by the elbow and tugged her inside, gentle shutting the door without a peep.
She froze, blinking owlishly up at him for a moment with a deep-rooted desire to see him through the tense darkness, and as her eyes adjusted, their gazes locked. She held her breath, listening carefully to the footsteps that drew nearer and nearer right outside the door, as well as the soft mewls coming from Mrs. Norris.
"Potter, what do —" Indiana began in a barely audible whisper, but Harry drew a finger right in front of his lips to signal her to be quiet. She clamped her lips shut as the footsteps grew a bit quieter, and she wondered when it would be safe to breath again. If she could even find enough air to do so.
"Students out of bed..." They heard Filch mutter. "I know they're here... I heard the door close! Ha ha!"
Harry suddenly rifled through his left pocket, pulling out a shiny, glittering cloak, and before Indiana could say anything, he had draped it over the both of them. Harry swung an arm over her shoulders to pull her in closer towards him so the cloak of invisibility could cover them entirely. She had turned her head to press her cheek to his upper chest; he could feel her heart rapidly beating as they stood there, chest to chest. Outside, Mrs. Norris meowed again.
"We'll catch 'em, my sweet," Filch's voice said as his shadow crept closer to the wooden door. Indiana pressed herself backwards as though the move further away from the shadow. Harry tightened the arm that was around her. "And we'll turn them right into the Headmistress — huh?"
Filch had opened the door. Indiana's breath hitched and she clasped her hand over her mouth. Harry stayed looking up at the caretaker, not daring to move an inch in case the cloak decided to pop up over their shoes. The caretaker, mumbling curses under his breath, before he slammed the door shut and began to walk away.
"What is this?" Indiana whispered, her voice barely audible. She lifted her head off of his chest and blinked up at him; her hair was ruffled about by the cloak, pushed over her forehead just a tad, but her arms were still grasping onto him. "How'd he not see us?"
"Erm — I kind of have an Invisibility Cloak," Harry said meekly. Indiana's jaw dropped.
"You kind of have an Invisibility Cloak?" She repeated slowly. "You're full of surprises, aren't you, Potter?"
"I guess so," Harry nodded his head a tad, although neither of them moved to leave the closet, nor apart from one another. Another miniature streak of silver light from a crack in the door ran from his cheekbone shoulder up the side of his temple, highlighting the rosy blush of color that had risen. The light passed perfectly over one of his irises, making the green hue look more like a glittering emerald. He was so attractive, it hurt. "I — Indiana — we — uhm — we should —"
"Potter," she breathed quietly, and he clamped her mouth shut, staring at her. His hair was mussed and wild, tufts of raven locks pushed out of shape all along his tanned forehead, and behind his round and definitely scratched glasses, the eyelids of his brilliant green eyes were gradually becoming half-lidded. She suddenly forgot how to breathe. "Could you maybe shut up for a moment?"
"Yeah," He mumbled, letting his eyes close as her lips brushed against his. And she kissed him.
Now granted, they didn't have as much room was Indiana would have liked, due to both the perimeter of the broom closet as well as being underneath the Invisibility Cloak, but she didn't have any desire to change anything. It seemed, over time, he had gained a bit of confidence, because she hadn't expected his hands to latch right onto her waist.
"Oh—!" She exclaimed when his calloused fingers slipped up and down her torso, gripping the bottom of her ribs to tug her closer to him. She felt a sort of smile unfurl on his lips through the kiss, and even she could not help but grin as well. He lifted his lips from hers and pressed them to the corner of her mouth, then her cheek, then her temple, then —
"Sorry," He mumbled as she began to giddily laugh. "I just —"
"Thought I told you to shut up?" Indiana repeated. He grinned before bringing one of his hands up to his mouth to pretend to zip his lips closed, throwing away the invisible key. "Much better."
"Are we gonna stay in here?" Harry asked her, gesturing to the closet. Indiana cocked up at eyebrow.
"Well, we could go somewhere else," she shrugged, running her hands along his chest; she could feel his heart pounding beneath his chest. "Or... y'know... we could just continue in here..."
"Please," he breathed. And then he kissed her again.
SHE SPEAKS!
EEEEEE I LOVE THIS CHAPTER SO MUCH I'VE BEEN WAITING TO WRITE THEM JUST HAPPILY TOGETHER (don't get me wrong i love the tension but I LOVE THEM AHHH)
also, another thing i wanted to add. indiana is in no ways a perfect person. she has more than enough flaws to her character. i wanted to add in her apologizing to harry about to show that yeah, she might have good intentions and is good at her core, but she's done some fucked stuff that needed to be addressed. she's not perfect. by no means.
thanks for reading dead to me :) ur comments make my day! not too many chapters left. ahh!!!
comment stuff you want to stuff with indie and harry before their story ends!!
- s<3