Harry pulls me close, closer than I've ever been held by any one else, let alone a man. When his hands drop around my lower back, I'm nearly paralyzed by the serenity of the moment.
All I can see is him.
All I can feel his him.
All I want is him.
Harry rests his forehead against my own as we sway. His soft brown tufts of hair curl slightly at the edges, tickling my skin.
"You're a singer aren't you, Roses," his low voice gently caresses my skin, warming it like a soft blanket.
"Nothing like you," I reply quietly. "Really Harry, your voice is something marvelous."
Harry ignores my compliment, and simply closes his eyes and continues to hum, swaying ever so gently in the middle of the street, underneath a crowd of stars.
"I should be getting you home, Roses."
"Mhmm," I reply, not able to muster the words that will pull us a part.
The church bells from the town square suddenly ring out twelve sharp chimes.
"Oh goodness," I gasp under my breath, "Can it really be midnight already?"
"You really are Cinderella," Harry grins as I peal away from him. I walk past him, swatting his arm playfully before bending down to grab my coat. He flashes his cheeky grin and adorable dimples.
"Let me take you home."
Harry walks the bike over to me, but when I go to grab it he playfully pulls it away.
"I got it," he smiles kindly.
We gab about funny parts of the movie, poking fun at one another as we journey back home. When we hit the bridge leading out of town, the conversation seems to come to a still.
"So what's America like?" Harry asks almost nervously. I look over at him, and he shakes his head as if he doesn't like the question, but it warms my heart because it takes me back to our first walk home. I think just walking and talking might be one of my favorite thing to do with Harry.
"I dunno, really," I answer.
Harry chuckles slightly, "What do you mean you don't know? You haven't been faking that accent of yours, have you?"
"First of all" I point at him, smiling, "you're the one with the accent."
"Oh is that how this works," Harry grins.
"And second of all, it's hard to explain."
"Try me." I focus on my feet while I try to make sense of my own feelings, let alone phrase it in a way that doesn't make me sound as dumb as I already do.
"It's just... I feel like I haven't really gotten to know England all that well. I can't really tell what's English and what's just my Grandparents being strange."
"They're a pretty good English pair," Harry laughs lightly.
"So.." Harry's voice trails slightly, "Does this mean your family back home very different then?" Harry's eyes remain fixed forward.
I let out a loud cackle at the thought my troop of a family visiting here. "I think Grandfather would have a heart attack if he met all of us."
"Rowdy lot?"
"There's five of us, kids that is."
Harry stops and faces me. "five?"
I tilt my head toward Harry, and giggle, "They call us the Chapman clan."
Harry lets out a loud laugh. "You know I really can't picture four more of you."
"Well we're all pretty different. Except for Thomas. He and I are two peas in a pod."
"Thomas?" Harry asks, eyebrows raised slightly.
"My twin," I tell him proudly. Thomas and I have always loved dropping our twin fact on people.
Harry stops in his tracks, the gravely road scraping hard against the bottom of his leather shoes. "Roses has a twin? Well how do you like them apples." I let out a little laugh, pulling him with me as I drag the bike forward.
"So you're both close then?" Harry continues to ask.
"Very much so," I nod.
"Well it's probably for the best he stayed home."
I stop and stare at him, my narrowing eyes clearing telling him to explain.
"I'm just sure he wouldn't want to see me chasing after his darling of a sister," Harry holds his hands up innocently as I roll my eyes.
"What about you?" I change the subject. "What's your family like?"
"Less of a crew, but a good bunch." Harry laughs.
"Siblings?"
"One," he nods with a smile, "Gemma. She's a pretty good egg. We've decided to keep her," Harry adds with a laugh. "She's just a couple years older."
"So you're the baby then?" A smirk plays at the corner of my lips.
"Yea, yea, yea.." Harry waves me off, but I can still make out the grin on his face, even from the side.
"So you grew up here then? On the farm you mentioned before?" I ask. I want to know every little piece of Harry's life.
"Yup." His expression is neutral, but his answers are short. Why doesn't he want to talk about this? An awkward silence falls between us, and I start to feel a little bad about bringing it up.
"We're just not all that interesting," Harry offers up, his voice gentle and even, as his eyes stay fixed ahead.
"Try me," I echo his own words. He tilts his head slightly and his eyes seem to search mine. "Tell me more."
Harry gives a little nod, but his pinched eyebrows and taught jaw tell me he's deep in thought over this. After a few seconds, he finally begins to speak.
"We're all pretty close, I suppose. My father had a hard time being around. He left when we were younger." He pauses slightly, his breath somewhat uneven. "He was a tunneler. In the War, that is."
My heart breaks.
Harry's simple explanation is enough for me to understand. The tunnelers probably saw the worst of the Great War. I shudder slightly at the thought of it; being trapped underground with no escape. Not many came back, and if they did, not much came back with them.
"It was mostly just me and Gemma helping Mother on the farm as kids." Harry continues and my heart aches as I start to picture a young Harry doing his best to help. "Mother remarried when I was in my teens. Man named Robin. He's a pretty good lad." Harry disappointed tone shifts a little, his soft smile returning, "I've come to think of him as a real father."
"They must be good people, Harry." Harry stops and looks at me.
"How do you figure?"
"They must be, because look at what a wonderful person you are. They must have done something right."
My honest words seem to affect him as his tense shoulders seem to relax, and his smile becomes less apologetic and more of something tender.
"You're turned out to be a real gentleman, no matter what old women think," I add with a little laugh trying to turn the moment into something more playful. Harry chuckles a little, but keeps his eyes on me as we continue down the main road.
Harry goes on to tell me about how sister is trying her hardest to make it to University, something unheard of for this town. He tells me about his mother's love of cats and tea as well as about the time when he was eight and accidentally let loose all of the chickens.
"I thought for sure I was a goner that day," Harry lets out a beautiful laugh.
"And what did your Mother do?"
"Made me go catch every single one of them," Harry laughs heartily. "That was actually the first time I officially met your grandparents. Showed up in their back garden trying to grab Chirpee."
"Chirpee?"
"Yes, Chirpee. A fine lad, if you must know." Harry smirks and crinkles his nose at me. "Your Gran helped me nab him. She's a clever one. Found out he was real keen on blueberries."
"Was he really?" I laugh out loud, loving these details not only about Harry's life, but that of my grandparents as well. They are still such a mystery to me, even though they are family.
"Loved them." Harry laughs. After a moment, he adds, "I've spent a lot of time with your grandparents. They're good people too, you know."
"I'm sure you're right," I offer up, unsure of what to say. I want to believe him, but I still haven't figured them out just yet. There's still a cloud of doubt in my head.
"So what's your family like then?" Harry asks, picking up on my uneasy tone and I'm grateful. I want to speak honestly, but I also don't want to say anything I'll regret or anything that's unfair to Gran and Grandfather. I shake my head as I kick a tiny rock along the empty road as I think of where to begin.
"Well, Thomas and I are the oldest. You'd probably get on real well with him. Both cheeky fellas," I tease and Harry nods laughing lightly. "After that is Mabel, she just turned fourteen this past September and is quite the lady. Can't even tell you all of the times she's broken into my hidden stash of makeup."
Harry nods taking in all this information.
"Then there's Elizabeth," I continue, "She's ten, but I swear she's practically thirty. She already knows she wants to be a teacher when she grows up. Every evening, we would play school, but of course she's the teacher and I'm a pupil in need of much tutoring," I look up over at Harry who laughs along with me.
"An education is an important thing, Hazel," Harry points at me. I like his nickname for me, but I really love the way my name sounds on his tongue. My heart speeds up a little, and I try to refocus. "The youngest is John. He's about eight. He's a right devil that one."
"A man after my own heart," Harry tosses in. I let out a laugh that's more of a sigh. Homesickness has hit me like a ton of bricks. My thoughts are rushed away as a gust of wind nearly knocks me over. The chilly air has become almost frigid, and I cling to my coat to keep me warm.
"Are you cold?" Harry asks, his eyes flicker with worry.
"Oh no, don't worry about me," I lie while trying to stop my chattering teeth.
"You're a horrible liar," Harry calls my bluff.
"I guess that's something different between England and America," I laugh. "It's definitely colder here."
Harry stops the bike and walks around towards me, taking off of his coat.
"Harry, what are you doing?"
"You're cold."
"Because it's cold out, you goof," I whine. "Put your coat on before you catch something."
Harry ignores me and drapes his black wool coat over my shoulders. The warmth is undeniable. Harry takes a step back and a wide grin takes over his face as he starts laughing at me.
I stand there pouting like a five year old, and I look like it too. Harry's long coat makes me look like a small child trying on their parent's clothing.
"I'm serious Harry, I don't want you to be ill." I try to take it off but Harry wraps his arms around me, holding me and his coat in place.
"I'm fine. Honestly, Hazel." I wiggle slightly to place my arms in the right sleeves and Harry tugs at the collar, tucking me nicely into it. I bite my lip as I look up into his kind eyes as he stands just a few inches away from me.
"You're some gal," he says, his voice low and tender, his breath slightly caught in his throat. I can't take it anymore. In an instant of reckless courage, I run my hands up his chest and lock them behind his neck as he wraps his arms tightly around me, pulling me up towards him.
"Hazel," His whisper dances on my lips and my whole body tingles as if it were made of a thousand little fireflies.
"Harry," I whisper back. We're so close, I can feel the cool of his breath caress my lips. I lift my chin ever so slightly, placing the tinniest of eskimo kisses on his nose. Harry nuzzles me back, knocking his hat from my head and onto the ground. I couldn't care less though as I gaze up into his wild green eyes. His pupils are wide, his own cheeks flushed.
I want him. I need him.
My fingers lace through his tufts of soft brown hair and I pull him in, crashing my lips onto his. My once frozen body is immediately on fire. Our lips move quickly and passionately together, and I can still taste the faint flavor of vanilla ice cream on his lips. I don't even recognize myself as my body begs for more of him. I take in his bottom lip lightly between my teeth, earning a husky, low moan.
I think I might explode into an actual firework.
Our ragged breathing and the world around us is lost in the wind that swirls about our intertwined bodies. We are fire in the cold winter night, the brightest of stars shining down on the darkened town road.
"Hazel," Harry breathes out in between our kisses. I can't bring myself to open my eyes. If he tells me we're just friends one more time, I think i'll die right on the spot from sheer embarrassment. He rests his forehead against mine, our pants the only audible sound. Harry cups my face in his rugged, yet tender hands.
"God, I'm crazy about you, sweetheart," his deep voice rushes. His perfect words hit me like a ton of bricks. My eyes flutter wide, and I take in Harry's pleading eyes. I'm stunned into silence.
"Please, know that. I'm not just.. I don't want you to think.." Harry stumbles over his words.
"Harry," I breathe out. "I'm absolute mad about you." I gaze up into his eyes, trying to show him just how true that statement is. "I trust you."
Harry carefully takes my hands from his neck and kisses the tops of them. I wrap my arms around him, nuzzling into his chest. And in the quiet of the night, in the middle of this empty road, I finally feel like I'm exactly where I belong. We stand there, holding on to each other, for as long as we can as if we knew the way towards heaven itself.
"I've got to get you home, love." Harry says into my hair.
"No, thank you," I say into his chest. Harry chuckles as he holds me close. It's such a delightfully deep sound and it resonates throughout my whole body. It' wonderful. He's wonderful.
"Your Gran will have my head."
"She doesn't even know I'm out." I whine.
"What?" Oh, schnitzel.
"Oh, well, um.." I stumble over my words. I don't want Harry to think for a second that any part of this is wrong.
"Miss Chapman, did you sneak out tonight?" I look up to Harry, and thankfully he isn't angry. In fact, he has a wicked smile on his face.
"I'm not saying I didn't.."
"You're a little devil, aren't you."
"Just for you," I beam.
Harry holds me tight and picks me up off the ground, my feet kicking slightly behind me as his lips move lovingly against my own. I give Harry another little peck and pull back to smile at the beautiful man in my arms.
"Come on, sweetheart," Harry places two rapid kisses on my lips before gently dropping me to my feet. Harry picks up the bike that I can't even remember falling. Instead of grabbing the handle bar, he moves to sit on it.
"Alright, love," Harry smiles as he pats the front of the bike.
"You trying to kill me?"
"Never," Harry bites his lip. "Come on, it'll be fine."
Harry straddles the bike, and I laugh a little at how his long legs look as he sits on my shorter seat. With a little huff and smile, I clutch Harry's big coat around me so it won't get caught in the spokes of the wheel and hop up onto to top of the handle bars. I guess now would be a good time to mention my klutzy behavior, but Harry catches me, helping me find my balance.
"I've got you," Harry whispers into my ear. Goosebumps rise up and down my arms. I crook my neck slightly to face Harry.
"No matter what?"
"No matter what, love." His eyes are bright and kind, his smile honest and true. How in the hell did I get this lucky?
With a final kiss, Harry begins to peddle. He's so tall that he stands as he rides, as I lean back slightly on the handlebars into his chest. My legs dangle freely as the whipping wind flies through our hair, our squeals and laughter dissolving into the moonlit air.
We suddenly reach the top of the last hill, and begin to fly down the other side. Wind flying through my hair, my heart beating out of my chest, I really feel as if I'm a weightless bird, soaring through the night sky. In a leap of trust, I slowly let out of my death grip on the handlebar, and steadily outstretch my arms. And in that moment, I could feel everything. I felt love. I felt joy. I felt the corners of infinity. And it was mine and Harry's to keep forever