Alexis;
I spent some time with Nonna, watching the rose competition in the town square. They were all beautiful, however only one could win. I didn't vote, personally not having a favorite. After an agonizingly long chat with Nonna about my trip with Harry, she let me off to my boyfriend's house.
Harry was in his garage, shuffling through things and scattering broken parts around with one goal that was beyond me. I smile to myself, before wrapping my arms around him from behind. His shock is short-lived. He raises his arms and turns around, neutral expression turning into a faint grin when he realizes it's me.
"Hey," he murmurs lowly, arms wrapping around my waist tightly. I watch him through my eyelashes as he dips his head down, bringing our lips to a close for a few seconds.
When I pull away, I softly ask, "What cha looking for?"
He shakes his head. "Just some part my dad wanted me to get. S'fine. I can't even find it so I'll let him know," he explains briefly, sighing. "How was your day?"
"Hmm, Nonna took me to this rose garden competition. And she nonstop criticized anyone she could," I explain, pursing my lips.
Harry chuckles, "Why am I not surprised?" I pull away from him and his embrace, turning around to search the garage with wandering eyes.
"Your dad take the truck?"
"Yeah, he's off to do some thing he has to do. I don't bother asking," Harry tells me, and I suddenly feel his hot breath against my cheek, his husky, low voice whispering to me, "So that means...there's no one home..." His suggestive tone makes a wave of heat drape over my face like curtains, and the squeeze he gives my waist goes along.
I grin lightly to myself, testing him. "Hmm, I guess we are. But what about Max?"
"With a friend, playing football," he answers quickly, softly kissing my cheek down to my jaw. Humming briefly, I react by leaning further against him. For a moment, there is silence. Slow breaths and eager fingertips slipping through the very bottom of my shirt. I feel his nose nudge my neck, husky hum vibrating in his throat.
The tease in me makes an appearance when I move away, pretending to feel nothing for his affection. He watches warily with parted lips as I say, "Let's...eat first. I'm absolutely starved."
"You're in luck, we have food," he responds breathily, kissing my cheek and murmuring, "Tease."
I smile softly before I'm lead into his house. The silence reminds me of how peaceful Harry's little home is. Even small, their yard is countless feet. So much empty land for Max to explore and pick insects from. Even though most people are appalled by insects, I think it's adorable how Max is into nature.
Hopping onto the cool surface of the counter, I await Harry and a plate of warmed food he sets beside me. I thank him with a faint smile before digging in, feeling oddly starved even after all those cherries I ate.
Harry leans against the counter on my other side, crossing his arms over his chest. He sighs lightly before turning to look at me, and since I have already looked at him, our eyes lock. I instantly know there's something wrong by the way his saddened expressions screams it.
"What happened?" I asked after swallowing the bit of food in my mouth.
He pauses, staring directly into my eyes. "So you know that McConag guy?" He almost whispers. I gaze at him skeptically, though I try not to show my skepticism and nod slowly. "Well, I'm gonna race him. Tonight."
I pause before I place my plate to the side, jumping down from the counter and gazing firmly into Harry. "Why?" I ask quietly.
"Because. This is just something I have to do. I've always wanted to get back at this guy for so long, and I don't care if it's childish and I should let it go. I really don't. This is something I have to do for myself," he instantly becomes defensive.
The softness of my voice does not last. I'm immediately threatened by Harry's decision. His very abrupt decision.
"I heard what people say about him, Harry. I'm sure you have, too. What if...what if you get hurt?" I frown deeply, eyebrows furrowing with concern and to put it simply, terrifying assumptions; predictions.
"Baby, there's no way I'm getting hurt. I'm making sure of it," he assures me, going to grab my hand, but I move it away before he can out of spite.
"Are you going to hurt him?" I question, the volume of my voice increasing.
Harry's eyes widen by a tiny difference almost instantly. "What? No!" He exclaims defensively. "Look, baby, no one's getting hurt. Fair race."
"You think he's going to be fair?" I spat. I'm deeply, utterly profoundly surprised at my voice. This doesn't sound like our usual, playful selves. This is a real argument, and I can't explain such foreign feeling, but I know I hate it immediately.
The green in his eyes is all I see when he shouts, "No one's fucking hurting anyone!"
I know the way his voice raised surprised him, and it surprised me. We didn't know where we were going with this. It was strange, but I knew what I wanted and he knew what he wanted. I wanted his safety, he wanted to get revenge.
"He's going to take the first chance he gets to hurt you, Harry! I don't think you should do it. You're stupid if you do," I explain to him harshly. "Is this some kind of stupid hurt ego race? One to prove to everyone that you're better than him?"
"I don't need to prove anything that's already true." Oh.
My lips press tightly together before I turn my head and state, "I should go."
As I begin to rush away, he says, "You just got here."
"And now I'm just leaving." I remark haughtily, walking towards the front door. He sighs heavily, angrily, but does nothing. I can just picture him running his hands through his shaggy, lengthy hair.
Walking home, I angrily kick rocks as I deeply think about what we said. I can't help but think I'm right, and he's in the wrong. But, I also consider that I don't know why Harry and Ben hate each other so much. It is obvious it matters a lot to Harry, and it's making him act that way.
I feel naturally about this. I'm so in love with him, and even though I haven't told him, I think it's obvious now. And I care about him so much, that I could only get angry when he put himself in dangers like these. Ben McConag. I hate that guy.
When I arrive at Nonna's, the house is empty. She must've gone out or something. I sigh heavily to myself, shutting the door behind me. These are the moments I didn't want us to have, but like all relationships, there are flaws. I huff to myself, angrily stalking to my bed where I lazily lie on top of the mass of blankets.
Now that I have time to just lie down and think, I remember my parents and how much fun they're probably having. They've only called twice so far this summer, and it's been...probably a month and two weeks in. This doesn't shock me. They're used to having fun on their own.
I sigh heavily, pouting angrily at nothing particular, just the old, cracked ceiling. I know I'm probably being somewhat dramatic. I should go back there and support him in the race, but at the same time I don't want to. I don't want to watch him get hurt.
By evening, I'm sipping on warm soda from an unopened can I saw by the counter. My mind is bored, and restless because of it. I try to busy myself with the television, though nothing seems to. I go to my room and decide on a pointless nap.
It's so hot, I strip down to a tank top and my underwear. Then, I rid the mattress of any unnecessary blankets, and down I fall lazily onto it like there was nothing stressing me out. I sigh heavily, tucking my arms underneath the pillow and hoping that this works.
False. I can't sleep for a second. The powerhouse that my brain is does not stop. It consistently magnifies issues I have, and it only prolongs the misery of boredom and over thinking.
"Alexis!" I hear Nonna, finally arriving home.
I get up and open the bedroom door, lacking the capability to force energy. "Yeah! I'm here."
"Somebody's here for you by the way! Found him sitting on the front porch."
"Wh—"
"Alexis."
I'm not fast enough with reacting with anger and shutting the door. He grabs the door and pushes it open, and I back away with a scowl. Harry shuts it behind him lightly, turning to me with a gloomy expression. His wariness as he speaks does little to me.
"Can we just...stop for a minute," he suggests firmly. I stare intensely. "And that includes the death stare, babe."
A groan uplifts from my throat and I sigh afterwards. "Alright, you're right. What do you want?" I cross my arms over my chest.
"You're this angry at me for just wanting to feel like I'm redeeming myself? By driving a car? Something I've done for the longest time," he insists.
I roll my eyes irritatingly. "You sure have a stupid way of redeeming yourself," I retort. "I'm not angry at anything, but the fact that it's him you're racing. He's just...he makes me feel very worried. Especially because I care about you, and I love you so much, and you just...put yourself in a dangerous position and I don't like th—"
He places his hands at my waist, interrupting me with, "Yeah? You do?" There is a sweet, amused grin on his face that makes him look quite off of it and intoxicated, but never less handsome and adoring at once.
"Yes!" I persist. I hardly notice, but I end up frowning, getting more peeved off at his sudden amusement and giddiness. My mouth falls agape for the second I inhale sharply, ready to yell. "Are you kidding me r—!"
His lips meet mine forcefully, hands that remain at my waist pull me further into his body. I feel the denim of his jeans against my bare thighs, the warmth of his hands when they touch the strip of skin between my shirt and my underwear. I want to push at him, placing my hands against his chest. Yet, he only pulls me further, humming and his lips curving into a smirk.
Managing to move my lips from his, I murmur, "Harry, stop it. I'm furious with you."
"Hmm."
"Seriously, just get out."
He shakes his head, smiling faintly, eyes hooded. "You know what? I will."
My bottom lip nearly quivers. "What's wrong with you!? You're being such an asshole to me and —"
"And what?" He breathes, biting into his bottom lip. His hands squeeze my waist, teasing smirk curved into his lips. My lack of speech encourages him to continue. "You love me?"
I part my lips in surprise. He laughs lightly and says, "God, Alexis, you have no idea...how much I love you. Fucking adore you, baby. Just...shut up for a sec."
Harry dips his head down again to kiss me with force, and want. I feel my face heat up instantly, now realizing everything that happened in this short span of two minutes. My small hands reach to cup his face, deepening our furiously passionate kisses. A groan rises from his throat, pressing his hands to my lower back and inevitably moving my body into his harder.
I have this incredibly aggressive urge to kiss him harder, with less of anything in the way. I know he does, too, by the way he starts to tug at my tank top. Knowing the limits, I pull away, and breathe out, "We can't. Not here, and definitely not now."
He tries to regulate his breath, burying his face into my neck. He nods seconds later, sighing. I tell him, "Later, when you beat that idiot."
"You're coming?" He asks, eyebrows furrowing, his voice surprised.
"I'm not happy with it. But, I'm too anxious to not be around 'cause my thoughts will eat me alive," I firmly state. "I'm still absolutely pissed you're doing it."
"Yet..."
"Yet I'm going, yes. Complicating." Then I add, "And don't think I'm going because you told me you love me because —"
"Shh, I love you. I love you, beautiful. I love you," he repeats with a faint smile.
I return it, trying to cover it with furrowed eyebrows and a bad attempt at a glower.
n. so late, but school for me ends in a few and i have too many exams to pass and so many hours to sleep. so, goodnight, or goodmorning, or good evening, or good afternoon.