Guaranteed the look of curiosity and seriousness I get from Harry when he's in thought, I sat with my feet in water, jeans rolled up five inches from my ankles. Harry sits beside me on the small, low dock made of old wood and growing algae at the support beams.
I sigh to myself, staring at the sun that settles at the very middle of my sight. Not exactly the pretty sunset type, and not the blinding type either. I can feel Harry looking at me, which as usual, is not surprising. A faint smile curves into my lips, right before I turn to catch him.
"Judging by the time you spend looking at me, I find it hard to believe it's only because you want to draw me," I whisper, gracefully moving my foot in a upward and downward movement through the water.
Harry doesn't react much, and murmurs back a low, "You caught me."
"I did?" I question with light humor. "One...to zero," I move my mouth slowly as I speak, smug look capturing my features.
He doesn't react much and only leans backwards until his back lies onto the wooden deck. He stares up at the sky, eyes squinted and eyebrows furrowed. One of his hands reaches up into his hair, and he sighs loudly, saying, "I let you have that one."
"And I'd like to remind you, not even an hour ago, I tricked you into thinking you could outrun me," I interject, looking down at him. He turns his head, tilting his chin. Green eyes watch me as his lips curve into a faint grin.
"Which I clearly did. You just found a loophole."
"So then you didn't," I insist, and in turn he scoffs while I laugh.
"Fine. Think what you want," he hums lowly.
I don't respond, smiling to myself, looking at the reflected sunlight that glistens over the warm water. It's warmer than usual out today, which makes the idea of going "swimming" in the beginning of the fall somewhat better. No worries about hypothermia, but maybe the amount of bacteria in the lake water.
"I can tell what you're thinking right now," he says. "And I can't believe you're thinking of it." My eyes glance between him and the water, and I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. He then adds, "There could be like a stomach virus in here. Old pee...who knows what's been in there."
Already grinning, I retort, "I'm not gonna question how you knew that."
"What? You really should," his voice is low, and full of humor. "You're ignoring all the psycho obsessed with you signs."
I turn away from him again and pull my feet away from the water, feeling the wind cool my wet feet. Coming to stand, I hop quickly, wiggling my toes. I look to Harry, longing gaze frozen spot onto his features. There's a moment before I reach to the bottom of my shirt, gripping the seams. My carelessness derives from a drive of ambition, confidence...comfort.
Removing my shirt blinds me for a second, and as it flies into the air and onto the wooden dock. Harry's face is stolid, not shy when he unabashedly gazes downwards. I pretend to ignore the gaze, and ignore the voice in the back of my mind reminding me that I'm not really that sexy.
I wasn't going for sexy, anyway.
"I'm willing to get a stomach flu if you are," I propose with my eyebrows raised. I now stand in a black sports bra and old skinny jeans, still rolled up above my ankles from previous moments.
Inside, I feel a little unsure about myself. I want to do something, feel like I'm approaching some kind of heaven away from the stress of reality, but we all know that's too good to be true. And I strangely, clearly...want Harry there with me...distracted for this moment.
He doesn't react. The same hard stoned look on his face that I saw the first time I ever saw him replaces the previous amused grin. Maybe he thinks I'm a whore, maybe...he's one of those guys who think women have to live by certain societal rules that profoundly differ from those of men.
But that's not the case, and I take a chill for a second. Harry sits up and then he's removing his shirt. All of the heat in my body somehow transgresses and flushes to my face and my face only. However, through the adrenaline that seems to be running through both of us, I lightly grin at the fact that Harry is joining me on my rash decision.
His shirt falls to the wood soundlessly. I avoid the well built body in front of me. He is not overly muscular or defined entirely, but he's lean and fit...and it shows. Broad shoulders and toned arms, chest...my dream, but as pathetic as that sounds in my head, I thought it anyway and accepted the fact that I even did.
"Bad ideas need the right people to test them out," he says suddenly, voice still so serious but he looks unsure himself, sighing through his nose, and yet somehow he manages to look amused; lips curved at the corners and eyes flickering to the water and occasionally me. "And I like both the views my eyes have, so this is nice."
Ignoring the subtle (and yet painfully obvious) flirtatious comment, I allow myself to inhale, shaky laugh escaping when I overly enthusiastically spat, "I'm confident we're the right people."
"Eh...I might be..You? Hmm..." He teases huskily, looking up to me again while I send him a scoff. "Teenage angst? I think so."
"I'm way past that."
"Oh yeah?" He tests, and I feel a harsh beat beneath my rib cage when his tongue pokes out from his lips, gliding gently across his bottom lip.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I raise my chin. My breasts rise with the push of my arms, and I gulp when I notice his eyes and the way they flicker rapidly as to avoid any awkward attention. All fails when gravity, by law, makes them technically bounce -- for lack of better word -- when my arms fall.
Regardless, our conversation continues. I firmly testify, "Yes."
He stares curiously, knowingly...cockily. "You're about to jump into a lake....half naked...I mean...literally everything about this moment is teenage angst-y," he explains lazily.
"Um, I beg to di--"
Seconds later, arms wrap around my waist in a tight grip, and they're pulling me towards the open air. I screech for only half a second, knowingly aware of who's responsible for dropping me into the water. Water that now engulfs my freezing, discomforted body. The arms that held me have long let go by the time I rise from the water again. Gasping and hair sticking to my face, I push the soaked strands away and see Harry a foot away from me, treading water like I'm doing myself.
His hair is matted to his flushed cheeks, pink-tipped nose and parted pink lips. Green eyes watch me, eyelashes decorated with a few water droplets that disappeared when he blinked. They clumped up together now, making them look thicker than they already are, focusing on the details of his irises. His nostrils flare as he breathes heavily, laughing, white teeth on display in neat rows. I begin to chuckle softly, sniffling and shaking my head at him.
"I can't believe you..." I mutter, raising my glistening hands to push away the matted, wet strands of my hair away from my cheeks and eyes. The cold I feel makes my body extra sensitive in all the overly erogenous places...ones that I would not want to bring attention to. I wiggle my toes onto the dirt beneath us.
"Believe it." He brushes a hand across his forehead, moving away hairs and then rubbing his pink nose. I roll my eyes and lean my head back, looking up at the darkening sky. My body is now becoming accustomed to the chilly water, and I barely feel it by the time I'm looking back towards him, noticing that he's looking at me. He murmurs lightly, "Is that teenage angst-y enough for you?"
"Hmm...not really," I huff. "It's missing something."
"Quite frankly, maybe you're just boring." He mocks playfully.
"Quite frankly," I begin, already prepared to mock his low voice and sarcastic tone, along with the English accent he has. My lips jut out as I try to form the words, widening my eyes at a teasing measure. Nose scrunched up. Harry watches me quietly, smiling faintly while I do my mocking.
When I finally finish rambling about how I just don't give a bloody fuck, Harry's absolutely silent. The water trickling and splattering in the distance the solid silence this moment would have been. I look at him, face dropping as I see him, and his face -- one of a stolidness and hardness that concerns me.
Furrowed eyebrows and frown forming rapidly, I mumble, "What?"
I didn't notice the distance between us, until one of his arms latches around my waist. I'm pulled, within a second, into him. This acts as no surprise to me, and I wrap my own arms around his neck. I gain the advantage of height, using his shoulders and the water to support myself. He leans his head back, large fumbling hands finding a spot on my waste. I notice his slip ups with my body, the way he fumbles (maybe out of nervousness) for a minute before taking control. I like it.
It doesn't take long for me to lean down to his face, his already angled up and our lips at the perfect spot to touch. I feel his steady, hot breath against my parted lips, and I know he feels mine. Warmth becomes more efficient now that our distance has closed, and the cool water ceases to be bothersome. My nose clumsily bumps his, and I can't help but feel the failure seep out of what should've been a soppy, cute moment.
"Watch where you're going. This isn't about to be a fight between noses," he whispers, and I have to laugh. He grins briefly, and I bite my lip to subside the laughter in me. His eyes flicker to the bitten lip, and my hands grip his hair tightly, and my toes curl, and my stomach quenches tightly when he slips his hands, past the soft fabric of my cotton underwear, to my thighs. He lifts them effortlessly, watching me as he wraps them around his waist.
He does everything in a very sensual, intimate way, and it makes me notice how he does it perfectly on purpose. I feel his hard stomach against my inner thighs, warm skin heavenly. I lean down again, this time my breath is more labored, and I can tell his is, too, but I am now more than aware of not to miss his lips.
Gently, our lips moving at a slow pace, I let my fingers fall from his hair to the back of his neck, trailing them to the sides. He kisses harder, deepening by a little, just enough for me to feel it. A moment passes by where our kiss lingers, until his tongue touches my bottom lip, teeth following as they gently bite into it. I feel the sharp exhale escape from his nose, nostrils flaring slightly as I notice he does it when he's getting worked up.
I feel a passing shudder make me fidget in his tightly locked embrace, knowingly kissing him harder just as I refrain from getting too excited, but that plan is down the drain five seconds before I can even think about it. My mom might think I'm seeing someone, and pester me, and Charlie might be thinking I'm fucking some weird guy, but that's not my issue.
"Harry...," I mumble against his lips, trying to regain composure of my breath. His nose brushes against mine as he sighs heavily, doing the same.
He looks up at me, lips a deeper shade from the consistent use. I feel his hands tighten on my waist, gulping and murmuring, "Yeah?"
I search his face, wondrous of what he's thinking but I know he'll tell me soon enough. Or maybe, I just know he's going to have an answer without me having to even ask. So...I don't. "The amount of bacteria in this lake is astronomically huge --"
"Wow...astronomically? That must be...you know, really huge," he comments sarcastically, laughing when I send him a clearly displeased look. One that's just as sarcastic as his tone. Through his grin, he leans forward and presses his lips again to mine. I grab his face, pulling away.
"And I just wanna say..." I breathe out, "Um....I didn't think, you know...a flirting mechanism like yours would work on me."
He snickers lightly and then begins to smile. "Wow, I am not offended."
"I'm serious," I insist in a low voice, furrowing my eyebrows and staring off at the water. "I thought you had a problem with me."
"I have to admit I give off that feeling...especially towards you...I mean, what guy pops out of nowhere consistently, trying to draw you for some assignment as well as woo you in...I mean, c'mon on, pathetic..." He huffs, rolling his eyes. And everything he says is in a sarcastic manner. I love it.
Looking back at him, I manage to laugh through closed lips before whispering, "You would've had me at a date for steak."
"I noticed. Just thought you were more than a steak date."
Eventually, Harry and I leave the disgusting water smelling like algae and dew. I hold my arms tight to my chest, trying so conserve some kind of warmth, but it's not working. Our clothes are dry but our undergarments aren't. Regardless, I put on my jeans.The night is young, but I know if I'm not home any time soon, and by the amounts of calls I've gotten, my mother would call the cops on me even as she insists she treats me like an adult.
Harry's car is warming up when he turns up the heater, handing me a large hoodie from his trunk with his baseball number on it. I rub my hands together and against my thighs, resting them between both of my legs to warm my chilled fingers. A soft hum of the engine and the radio distract me for a while, until I'm startled by a loud noise.
It comes from Harry's phone. It rests between us in a compartment, and I look to it briefly. It reads "Katherine" and I look up to Harry, his face exhausted the second he sees the caller ID.
"It's my aunt. She comes by to make sure I'm not up to anything bad..." he explains softly. "Tomorrow's the day they read my dad's will. And um, usually they would've done it before the funeral, but they had a few things mixed up, I guess."
The phone, still ringing, becomes increasingly exhausting for him. "Are you going to let her know you're okay? I think you should."
"Yeah, me too," he sighs, grabbing his phone and quickly answers it. He keeps his eyes ahead as he murmurs, "Hey."
I can hear her muffled voice, just within my earshot. "Harry! Goodness! You've finally answered. I've been calling for ages. We need to talk about yesterday."
"No, we don't. It's fine. They're not even what you think they are," he tells her, and I try not to grow interested, so I turn my head to look out the window.
"Harry, those papers are not for you to have. If they knew --"
"Just stop," Harry breathed out, shaking his head. "It's not that serious."
"Not that serious!? Harry, those are police records! School rec!--"
"Bye, Aunt Katherine. I'll be home soon. Just dropping off Tara."
"What? Who's Tara? Harry--"
And then he hangs up.
It would be idiotic of me to pretend I didn't hear any of that. So, I don't. My head turns and I look at him, noticing the details of his face changing. Tight fists, clenched jaw, and avoiding eyes. My eyebrows furrow as I finally gather enough energy and courage to ask him.
"Police records? School records?"
"It sounds bad...It's not though --"
"They're not very easy to get. You went through all of that?."
"You can conclude that from that conversation? What if I didn't get them?" He starts to get defensive, and I notice.
Examining his side profile, I mutter, "I have a feeling you did. But...why?"
He shakes his head. "It's this thing I'm thinking about. I needed information that I couldn't get just by looking, so I found out how."
n; thank you for reading. and thank you for waiting. i've been really busy lately. lacrosse season is almost here and all that training's got me exhausted!