strong sexual content
I look away and stare between us, but he's stolid and so much more serious instantly. The loving smile and the snuggles, and kisses filed right out the door with the replacement; the contentious aroma of suspicion and just a tinge of anger. Because he can almost guess by the way I'm looking right now. "Tara," he calls me, snapping me out of my thoughts. I manage to look at him again, glancing between my wrist and his face repeatedly. "What happened to your wrist?" He questions quietly, like he's on thin ice, and I don't want him thinking that I did this to myself.
My lips press together and I grimace, feeling my voice go soft as I warn, "Don't get aggressive the second I tell you. Just please stay calm, okay?" My voice is soft as to not promote any kind of anger, but inside I'm firm and I don't want things getting out of hand the second I destroy his good mood. And it feels awful that I'm doing so. Because I don't like the idea of keeping things from him either.
Harry watches me carefully, green eyes narrowing and he mutters, "Okay." He's stolid and unfazed, mood completely drained. Voice low and dry.
I stay seated on his lap, trying to make myself seem a little heavier to keep him seated, although the technique seems foolish and in vain. "Uh...I was late to class and um..Keth caught me in the hallways. I told him I had to go but he wouldn't listen," I explain in stammers, trying my hardest to read his expression. My voice is slow and careful, because I feel at any time he'll explode.
But he watches me, eyebrows furrowing and he asks, "What else did he do?"
Harry is calm, yet completely serious and maybe a little less unfazed than I thought he was going to be.
I lay my hands on his chest, soothing his tee. "He grabbed me a little too tight and bruised my wrist. He kept saying that he loves me...and uh..he said I was making him hurt me?" I feel like a child telling him the story, but this time I'm the one on thin ice in a sense. I don't like feeling like I'm about to trigger Harry with anything, especially how he's so protective. It's just incredibly frustrating to care this much.
"Okay," he responds, dry and unfazed. I place my hands on his neck, locking my eyes attentively to his. Harry clenches his jaw and I notice his nostrils flare, not in the way that he does when he's turned on and worked up from the doings of me, but in the sense that he's furious and he's trying everything in his might not to react in the moment.
When he can't look me in the eyes, I know something's up. He stares at the wall behind me, furious. Vexed eyes focused on nothing in particular, but I can tell they're deep in thought. He drops his hands from my waist, loudly exhaling from his nose. My lips part in slight, wondrous shock and confusion as he moves me away from him gently, grabbing my thigh and pushing it off his lap, denim clad thigh rubbing against my skin, and standing to his feet.
"Harry," I call quietly. With his back to me, he reaches up to his face, turning around. He rubs his hand across his jaw, smoothing over the slight stubble on his skin. He still can't look me in the eyes and he stares down at the floor. "Harry..." I try again, furrowing my eyebrows and coming to kneel on the couch, one hand on the back of the cushions and the other on my thigh.
We're quiet for a moment. He simply doesn't say anything and when I call his name again he shuts his eyes for a second, dropping his hand from his face. He exhales loudly again, clenching and releasing his jaw.
He starts shaking his head, and he finally looks at me, piercing green eyes so overwhelming to look at. I see him dig into his back pocket, pulling out his car keys. He doesn't say anything, and he glances at the door, continuing to shake his head. Then he walks to it. My eyes widen in response.
A little panicked, I stand up to my feet and follow him as he goes to reach the knob of the door. "Harry," I call out firmly again. "What..what are you doing..?" My arm reaches out, hand grasping the fabric of his hoodie. He doesn't say a word. "Harry!" I raise my voice as he swings the door open, ignoring the pull I have on his top. My eyes follow his every movement to the steps he takes towards the stairs that descend to the second floor. "You said you'd --"
He turns around quickly, startling me only slightly. I look behind him, registering that he's too close to the stairs with his back to them, and I grab his hoodie and pull him closer to me before we even start the pending, and frustrating argument that is boiling between us.
"I don't know," is all he says. Harry's voice is low, and he speaks through a clenched jaw that only emphasizes his anger.
"You don't know what?" I ask.
"I don't know why you think that I'm going to take this easily? Why you think I'd be able to stay calm after you tell me that a guy put his fucking hands on you?" He almost whispers, and the way he's not yelling, the way he's not bursting out may be enough to convince me that he truly is scary when angry. Because someone who can be so quiet and radiate so much fury at the same time is frighteningly impressive.
I watch him carefully. "I didn't want to tell you right away, especially through the phone..I didn't want to ruin your mood with --"
"Ruin my mood?" He questions, eyebrows furrowing. His voice raises. "My mood is the last of my fucking worries. My mood..I don't give an absolute fuck about!...when that bastard is walking around threatening you and touching you!"
His face starts to get red and heated, that vein more prominent in his neck. I start to feel my face do the same, my temper cutting off the network to my composure. "I care about your fucking mood! I care about everything that even remotely relates to you! And I hate that! I fucking--!.." I rub a hand over my face, covering my sight from him. I then feverishly rub my face to somehow feel like I'm removing some of the pressure on my body.
He only stands there, watching me. Waiting for me to finish. I look at him again, sighing heavily. My face is angry, but my voice lowers again. "I didn't want upset you."
"What's more upsetting is that I didn't know the second it happened," he snaps back, making me want to raise my voice. "Of course I'm going to be upset. Fucking hell, I'm even more furious now! There's no point in trying to avoid that by waiting it out?!"
Clenching my jaw, I shout, "It wasn't like you could do anything from Florida!! God, I wanted to avoid the confrontations and the explanations! You were happy, at least you seemed it...! It was two days ago, so there wasn't any waiting out?!! I was going to tell you anyway, so don't fucking yell at me!"
Harry sighs heavily and when he's touching me again, even if it's just my chin as he moves closer, I know he's calming down, which favors the situation. On the other hand, I'm a little too fired up, and his touch doesn't do much to settle me. I glare up at him. "Don't make it seem like I'm the bad guy for reacting the way I am," he tells me.
"I'm not...!" I insist, locking eyes, breath fanning against his skin, lowering the volume of my voice as I sigh. "You want to act like I was hiding it from you. It was not like that. I just wanted to wait till you came back."
"I don't consider that a good reason," he states, and I shoot him a glare. "I don't, Tara. You want me to lie instead?"
Pushing his hand away from my chin, snapping, "No. But I want you to at least try to understand why I waited until you came back. It really isn't that hard."
"I know," he breathes out, annoyed. "I do understand. I do. It's just...I was away, and I wouldn't be able to tell you how much it could kill me if he did anything else."
"Harry--"
"--I would leave in the middle of that fucking game. You know I don't really care for it. You know that. And for me to even fathom the idea of you being hurt...," he trails off angrily, "Try to understand that," he adds firmly, searching my face with observant eyes.
Letting an eyeroll go, I sigh heavily and feel myself relax. My body goes lazy, and I lean forward until my temple rests against the fabric covering his chest. The messy frizz that is my hair tickles at his chin, and he raises his hand to stroke my hair. Not a minute later, he leans his head back to reach a kiss to my forehead, pulling me tight to him.
"It happened like two days ago," I murmur softly, face still buried into his hoodie. "He hasn't been around me since, and I'm sure Xavier scared him off a bit."
Harry pulls away slightly, locking eyes with me. He raises his eyebrows. "Is that why you asked about Xavier?" When I nod, he responds, "Fucking hell."
I grimace and whisper, "Congratulations on winning, by the way. This isn't the welcome back I planned."
He doesn't even crack a smile on my satirical reference to his fascination with me in white lace. He shakes his head and pulls away from me. I let my bottom lip jut out slightly, feeling him no longer close. I sigh again, grabbing a fistful of his hoodie again and pulling him close again.
Harry clenches his jaw and avoids looking at me. I know he's thinking about Keth and how much of a threat he's being, and I'm doing the same, to a much less intense degree than him, at least.
"I'm taking care of him," Harry says suddenly, and I look up at him in alarm. "Don't look at me like that. He needs to fucking get it. He doesn't even get to breathe near you."
"What are you going to do? Don't do anything crazy," I warn, but I instantly regret it because I know he's going to get worked up again.
"Crazy is him approaching you, fucking threatening you and hurting you!" He shouts at me, shrugging off my grip on his top. I let out a breath of exhaustion. "That's what's fucking crazy!"
"Okay, shh," I whisper, knowing that first floor neighbor of mine could be getting everything from the conversation Harry and I are having of him possibly hurting Keth. I'm quick to brush off the volume of his tone, soothing my hands around his neck and placing a sweet kiss on his stubborn, closed lips. My hands grip his, placing them around my waist, eager to have him feel me. "But I'm here. I'm fine. One little bruise isn't going to do anything to me. I know you want to protect me, I have no issue with that. I just don't want more trouble, especially not for you, Okay?"
He doesn't respond, still angry and frustrated as ever. I send him a slight smile, cupping his jaw. "I missed you," I remind him. But still, he's unresponsive.
With a quick stolid, unfazed look at me he states, "Get ready. We're going out."
The fact that he ignores my comical advances warns me not to continue. I grimace and turn away from him, walking back into my apartment. Before I do, however, he places his hand on my hip and turns me, saying, "You're taking this too lightly."
"I'm not. I know what I can't handle," I retaliate, going off to a warm shower and some needed care.
Eventually, I'm wrapped up in a fluffy white towel, walking barefoot towards the kitchen where Harry sits on a counter, rummaging through a box of Cheerios. My hair is damp, droplets falling down my back and face. I feel a cold breeze across my bare skin. I'm quick to stride towards my phone that I left on the table, turning on the screen to see a few text messages from Charlie and my mother, restating that she needs to talk to me about something. I assume that she's talking about moving. And Charlie's asking if I'm alright and if I need anything.
I glance over at Harry who absentmindedly shoves Cheerios into his mouth and stares up at the ceiling, head tipped back. I type out a quick message to both Charlie and my mother before setting my phone down again. Harry feels me staring, and he looks in my direction while chewing. It's quiet, and I hate it.
My frown is obvious as I snatch the box of cereal from him and fold the top, getting on the tips of my toes and reaching to shove the box back into the cabinet. I slam it closed. Harry narrows his eyes and furrows his eyebrows, not bothering to say anything in response to my antics. Until he says anything he can stop eating my fucking cheerios.
I adjust my towel, giving him one more look of pure annoyance, before he sighs heavily and dips his finger into the top of the tucked towel between my skin and the fluffy fabric. He pulls me towards him and gets off the counter, dipping his head down to kiss me. "Stop," is all he says against my lips, wrapping his arms around my waist and pushing me flush against him. I kiss back with just as much force, feeling myself get worked up the second he bites gently into my lip.
I'm not surprised when he traces a dotted line of open-mouthed kisses down my jaw and neck. The cooled skin is heated once more by his touch, fingers dipping into the tucked fabric just above my breasts. I smile to myself, getting what I wanted when he tugs at the towel. I feel him exhale from his nose, mumbling against my lips, "I missed you, too. Such a little brat when you've not gotten what you want, flower."
He shocks me when his hands go behind my naked thighs, pulling me up effortlessly and turning us around, setting me on the counter. My parted lips give him a chance to lean forward, kissing me with tongue and with no intention of pulling away. His mouth feels so good on mine. Even if was for just a few days, I missed everything about him, pathetically.
I smile into his kiss when he slowly undoes the towel around my body, pulling me off the counter top for a second to properly undo the fabric, letting it drop to the floor. My eyes flutter as his hands trail up my soft stomach, undoubtedly feeling the few pounds I gained from my take out diet. But I don't care as he touches my skin, soaking up his caress. He inhales sharply, kissing down to my collarbones, sucking and licking to a pleasurable extent. He bites into my skin gently, trailing the flat of his tongue down to my breasts.
Hands slip between my inner thighs, spreading my legs slowly, allowing him to stand between them. He feels my soft skin and I feel my cheeks heat up, core throbbing with want at his teasing hands that caress my soft thighs and feel up my nude body. As I wrap my legs around his waist, I feel the denim of his jeans and fabrics brush against me, doing very little to suffice the friction necessity.
I tip my head back, running my hands through his hair as his head is lowered to my breasts, lips busied with kissing and sucking along my skin. My round ass is being practically cut across horizontally on this counter top, and so I sit up straighter and feel the cool marble on my naked skin. The feeling is foreign. Harry pulls away and looks to me, pulling me off the counter top with his arms around me, my legs around him, and his hands clamped to my ass.
"Hmm," I grin against his lips, being set on the table and hearing the desperate, panting breath of his escape his reddened mouth at once. I look around us before he removes his shirt, tossing it to the floor along with my towel. My hands feel up his taunt figure, chest a little flushed. He presses small kisses to my hands, and things get really quiet when he sighs and kisses the bruised skin. I feel a foreign pressure in my chest, and I breathe through it as he forces me to lean back onto my elbows, and he goes downward, kissing between my breasts and down my plush stomach, hands grasping my thighs tightly.
My nerves start to form in my stomach once his lips brush my inner thighs, teasing me. I'm so painfully turned on even as his hands push against my hips, expecting me to jolt when his tongue runs flat up my slit. My jaw goes slack, feeling and hearing his tongue glide up me, slick and effortlessly. I shudder, goosebumps rising against my skin when he circles the tip of his tongue on my clit, groaning against me before wrapping his lips around it, filthy noises make me feel like a sinner and my cheeks rushing red from the heat.
His nose presses up against me as I feel the suction of his lips and tongue at one on my clit. My arms get weak and I feel my my stomach churn. The apartment is intensely quiet except for light slurping of his mouth on me, and my toes curl. He moans gently on me, causing me go jolt lightly at how sensitive I am to even the vibrations of his voice. His ring clad hand rubs underneath my thigh, both then bending over his shoulders. I look down, watching him only briefly because it's just too much. My ankles lock behind his head, softly mumbling, "Please..fuck.."
Breathing picks up, hitched and loud. I don't hold back the moans and the cries, and with my thighs tingling and climax building, I move around, forcing him to hold me tighter in place, thighs locking around his head. His fingers glide down my slit, teasing me. "Hhmm, baby," I whimper aimlessly, squeezing my eyes shut and locking one of my hands into his hair, feeling him get slightly pacier and quicker with his movements. "Dios...asi!..." God...just like that.
I'm there, and I know it. The way he grips me tighter, groans against me, I can feel it. I'm coming, moaning loudly noises along with his name, feeling him still licking me up. My thighs tingle and I feel them tremble a little. For a moment, as I try to catch my breath, he kisses my thighs, rubbing his nose against my skin. I curse one more time, feeling him smile on me. "So damn sexy," he mutters against me, warm breath fanning across my heated skin.
Only so, we're riled up and my sex drive being as lengthy as it is, I'm more energetic than ever undoing his belt. We're both panting and as usual, my hand pressing against the obvious bulge in his underwear, rubbing harder as he groans deeply, kissing my lips sloppily. But I move away from him, earning a look only to pull him towards my bedroom as I plan for better things.
He falls back onto my small, single bed, smirking up at me as I straddle his waist. This isn't the very romantic welcome back I had in mind, but there's always time for that later on. And I'm quick to brush off the thought because it just feels as good as anything else when it's him. He raises his hips slightly, pushing down his jeans and underwear at once, releasing himself from the tight restriction of his jeans. He sighs heavily, biting onto his lip when I grip him, working him up even more.
"Wait, wait," I breathe out, knowing regardless of our needy pace, we still have to be careful. I lean to the side, reaching for my drawers while remaining on his lap. Harry looks up, hand resting on my waist and impatiently watching me rip open the foil wrapper. I don't need his help putting it on him, eager to have him. He grips my hips, pushing his up with slight frustration.
His mouth falls open and his eyebrows furrow when I sink slowly onto him. I feel myself shudder at the fill, biting into my lip harshly. Harry sighs loudly, grunting out a low, "Fuck." The single bed creaks loudly as I move my hips, grinding onto him without a fast pace. He slips in and out, locking his eyes at the point. His eyes shut afterwards, moaning at the feeling. And his moans make me weak already.
He smiles devilishly, lightly, lips parted slightly and panting as he watches me move. I drag his big hands from my waist up to my chest, cupping my breasts effortlessly and squeezing. Our fingers interlock and he mumbles, "..So fucking good....So good for me." I bounce on him lightly, feeling him move his hands from my chest down my back, clamped against my ass. He shifts a little, raising his hips to thrust up into me, rendering me speechless. We do it somewhat laid back, slowly. I feel up his stomach and chest, startled when his hand smacks down onto my ass.
I gasp, not minding however, as the feeling prolongs the pleasure. Noticing, he smirks and I bite my lip. I love the way he looks like at this pace, smitten and satisfied with watching me move, panting and flushed cheeks. I look the same, wearing a matching expression. He picks up the pace, digging his heels into the mattress and thrusting up. I lean down, chest pressed against his and face falling above his, cupping his jaw with one free hand as he makes me come.
Breathless, and loud, he thrusts fast, our need having won over. My mouth hangs open, hair falling to one side of my face. He watches my face, nose brushing against mine, lips doing the same. "There," I cry softly, feeling his hand down my stomach, fingers rubbing me in hard, fast circles around my clit. I feel that familiar feeling, seeing a similar expression form on his face.
I'm breathing so hard as he thrusts, matching my moans to his rhythm. He tightens his hands clamped to my ass, eyes locked to my rosy cheeks and glossed over eyes. I make a mental note of taking another shower, hearing out skin smack every time with his thrusts, wet noises the result of him coated in my arousal. He suddenly stops, and gives me a hard look, holding me tightly against him, panting out, "You like to tease me..no?"
Rosy cheeks and glossy eyes don't return the same aggressive, dark look he sends me. I swallow harshly and sigh out with frustration. He turns us over so I'm on my back, without wasting time, slipping out easily but pushing hard into me without the effort. He grinds slowly, and my toes curl as I cry out. My hands frantically hold his shoulders, but with no effort he grabs them in one and pins them above my head, driving into me at an angle that makes me speechless. His voice is strained and labored with breath when he leans down, forehead pressed against mine, murmuring, "Say my name?" And I do, but he isn't satisfied. He continues to go torturously slow. "Louder." I do as I'm told, wishing he'd let go of my hands and let me pull onto something. My stomach churns as he pushes faster, smirking against my cheek, whispering, "Good girl."
Some time later, I find myself lazily lying on his chest. Legs tangled and bodies close, influenced further by the small bed. I'm sore and breathless...and utterly drained. Harry's quiet, catching up with his breath after an intense orgasm. He drapes his arm over his face, jaw clenched. I try to move a little, ending up whispering to myself, "Fuck okay..let's not do that."
Harry turns his head to look down at me. "You okay?" I know he's about to smirk, seeing the curvature of his lips.
I bury my face into the pillow, glaring as he pecks my cheek with amusement. My eyes are glued to him, watching him dispose of the condom. When he lays back down, we settle into our previous position again. My head on his chest.
My hand tries to find the necklace that is usually around his neck, but I don't feel it. I frown and look up at his face. "Your necklace..where is it?" I ask, kinda sad about it because I would always notice it even more when we were intimate.
"Oh, yeah," he murmurs, sitting up and leaning to the side, reaching over to grab his jeans. Out of his pockets, he fishes out the golden cross necklace. I watch as he holds it up, adding, "Sit up for a second."
Knowingly, I send him a playful frown, and he grins when I sit up, proceeding to lock his arms over my shoulders, the small cross falling a few inches above my breasts. When he pulls away, he whispers, "Yours now."
I look down at it, still sitting up and touching against the cross. "I don't know..are you sure?"
"Yeah," he nods. "It looks good on you."
I lay back down, resting against his shoulder. "Harry.."
"Hmm?"
Before I can say anything, the door of the apartment opens and I can hear my mother's talking. I sigh heavily, and while Harry suggest we get dressed, I'm too lazy and I remind him that the door is locked. I cuddle closer, and Harry turns on his side, pulling my thigh around his waist. He presses a kiss on my lips, sharing repeated short kisses. I cup his jaw, smiling gently.
There's a knock on my door and I hear my mother call, "Tara? Estas aqui?" Are you here? "We need to talk. Is Harry there?" She's much closer to the door now, and I sigh.
"Yeah, just give me a second," I murmur, standing from the bed and going to throw whatever I can on, knowing I'll want to take another shower. My eyes widen for a second and I turn to Harry, who's buckling his belt. He looks up at me, a little confused. "Please tell me you didn't leave your hoodie on the kitchen floor.."
Harry pauses and then mutters, "Your towel..."
Cringing, I pull a t-shirt over my body and scurry towards the bedroom door, only to be greeted by my mother on kitchen with her hands already holding Harry's shirt and hoodie, the towel in the other one. She's pissed off, I can tell, and the little hints that Harry and I were a bit reckless picking where we wanted to get intimate makes her furious. She whips the clothes at me and startled, I grab them, shouting, "Ma!"
She doesn't even say anything, brown hair messy and bags under her eyes. Jaw clenched tightly with flaring nostrils. She is so scary when angry. I know she's stressed and evidently I'm just making it worse. If she was in a better mood she'd only scold me, but she's fed up.
Harry walks out of my bedroom, and I sigh, handing him his shirt and hoodie. He glances at my mother, who isn't pleased with his presence, which for her is weird because she adores him. My mother isn't having it as she states, "I wanna talk about something I saw the other day that I didn't like."
I narrow my eyes and glance down at my feet, already thinking the worst. Knowingly, I watch her and await for her to say something. Harry is pulling his shirt on, putting his arms through the sleeves of his hoodie. He runs a hand through his hair, silent and waiting for my mother to continue as well.
"You have marks on your wrist, Tara," she says. "And don't you dare tell me you fell, or anything like that." Her approach to the situation she thinks is going on, in every way and for lack of better word, is insensitive and straight forward. My mother was always so involved, but she wouldn't handle the situations as I wanted.
My mouth hangs open, unable to believe what she's thinking. I turn to look at Harry, and I'm pained to see the way he looks. Eyes glossed over and jaw clenched. He doesn't want her thinking that he would even think of hurting me.
"Ma...," I start quietly, wishing she thought about it first and had this conversation with me and only me, not in front of Harry, practically accusing him even without saying anything. But as usual, my mother doesn't like beating around the bush.
She isn't fazed. Harry surprised me when he says, "I would never dare to intend on hurting her...ever."
"I know that," my mother responds. "So that's why I'm asking. Because when I saw it, I thought the worst. I couldn't believe you'd touch my daughter. I'm simply asking for an explanation. Because I know damn well you didn't do it to yourself, and certainly wasn't me."
Finally deciding on speaking, I snap, "It was this guy who's obsessed with me. He wouldn't leave me alone up until two days ago, and he grabbed me too hard. But he's not going to bother me anymore. He's always had problems with Harry, but it's over," I sugar coat, wanting her to stay out of it as much as possible. "His name is Keth."
Ma raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest. "Are you sure?"
"Yes!" I exclaim with slight irritation. I would prefer to have this conversation without Harry present because I can't believe she decided to just throw the accusations out there. I turn to Harry, remembering that he said we're going out today. My voice is profoundly gentle as I say to him, "Could you grab my shoes in my room? The boots with the black laces?" He nods in response, knowing which ones I'm talking about.
When he's out of sight, I quickly turn to hiss at my mother, "Why would you just accuse him of that? Do you even think sometimes?" I regret it immediately because she's livid at my tone.
Eyes wide, she snaps, "Don't talk to me like that. I'm in the position to want to worry about you. I'm your mother."
"I know that?" I remark. "But you could've just asked me. Had this conversation ourselves. Not with him right here. I can't believe you'd even think Harry would do something like that. You approached the situation in possibly the worst way?"
"You know what I'm like," she points her finger at me warningly. "Don't you dare talk to me like that or even for a second think that you're smart. I was worried, and I don't want you going through what I went through. You know that. I know Harry is a sweet boy, but I still worry. People do things. If he ever touches you, mija, you will tell me?" Sweetie.
Annoyed but yet still understanding where she's coming from, I whisper, "Yes, ma. I know."
Harry returns with my shoes and I send him a smile, but he doesn't return it. I go to sit, putting my shoes on as my mother sighs heavily and walks towards him, a hand on his cheek as she, in an overly mothering way, says, "Perdoname, mi niño bello. (Forgive me, my beautiful child). I'm sorry, I just worry you know? But I know you'd never hurt her. Okay?"
He nods, accepting her hug. I stand to my feet and grab my bag over at the closet. "We're going out. But I'll see you later." Harry bids her goodbye, and the second we escape that tense apartment, I inhale deeply and look towards Harry. We're on the parking lot, empty if it weren't for our car and someone else's. A man sits in the ca, smoking a cigarette. I don't pay any mid to him.
Harry is silent, and right in front of his car, I grab his hand to get his attention. He turns only slightly, and I look at him with no ounce of amusement, being super straight forward when whispering, "This is the part I don't like. The part where you get quiet again. The part where you just don't want to talk to me and--"
"Tara," he murmurs, turning fully to me. He leans forward and kisses my lips. "I missed you. I don't want to fight..again. I just want to go out with you."
"Me too," I sigh, and he lets go of my hand to walk to the driver's side of his car.
We drive all the way to some breakfast place thirty minutes away even though it's noon already. We're silent for most of the way, but as he drives he reaches for my thigh and strokes his hand up and down my jean clad leg. I look down at my phone with little interest, seeing Charlie post about his little sister, leaning over a pillow, wide brown eyes looking up at the camera. I smile widely and like the picture, immediately texting him about the picture.
At the breakfast place, Harry's aunt Katherine and his sister Erin along with Nathan wait for us at the front. I grin widely the second I see them. Nathan runs over to me and hugs my waist, causing Harry to smile.
"Hey, Nathan!" I exclaim. "How's it going?"
"Awesome. We were in Florida yesterday!" He says excitedly as Erin hugs me and Katherine sends me a smile, all of us walking forward to be seated. Harry grips my hand, entwining our fingers and giving me a slight smile.
Everyone sits at the table in a soft chatter, Nathan talking to Harry about the game as Erin and I talk about my seminar class, and how she took a similar class in college and hated it. I laugh and say, "I like debates. They get me excited."
Harry butts in with a dry, "Oh, she does."
Erin and Katherine laugh gently as I send him a playful glare. Nathan's cup of apple juice is too close to the edge of the table, and she moves it forward a bit, saying, "You guys remind me of me and my husband when we were in college."
"You met your husband in college? That's so cute," I say, and she smiles in return.
Katherine adds, "I met my ex husband at an amusement park when we were twelve. Even after, we're still great friends. You can never let go of a person you've known for that long."
I nod in understanding. Harry runs a hand through his hair, leaning on his elbow before turning his head in my direction. I look up at him and smile, and he isn't discrete with the way he looks at me. Serious, yet adoringly.
Nathan sneezes in his hand and gets scolded just as the waiter comes by to take our orders. My order simply consists of waffles and bacon, which is most of what everyone at the table ordered anyway. Except Nathan wanted to pack on the chicken.
"Your necklace," Erin says to Harry suddenly. "I just realized Tara has it on. How cute, little brother," she teases, and Harry sends her a look.
"At least I can keep jewelry longer than two days," he remarks at her, shaking his head.
"That was one time!" She protests.
Katherine smiles to herself, shaking her head and helping Nathan do a coloring sheet with the few crayons the restaurant provides. Harry sips his drink, entwining his fingers together on the table before him, watching Nathan color. I look around the restaurant, finding the parking lot next to our seat outside the window interesting.
My eyebrows furrow when I notice a familiar car parked in the lot. The man back at the apartment with the cigarette in his hand has a car just like that. Lost in thought, I keep staring at the car until I find Harry trying to get my attention, pointing to what he's now started to draw on a piece of paper with a blue crayon.
I give him a look, laughing. "Really?" It was a cartoon dog.
"Mhmm."
After our meal, everyone bids their goodbyes and Harry and I are left to do what we want. Harry and I are just outside his car when he's patting down his jeans, cursing that he forgot his keys inside. He jogs back inside, letting me know he'll be right back. I stand outside his car, waiting.
The familiar car attracts my eye again. I look at the license plate. The leather brown seats inside, rusting metal. It's an old car.
A voice startles me suddenly. "Pretty necklace."
I snap my head in the direction of the voice, seeing a tall man with black, buzzed hair and a long, thin face. His eyebrows thick, eyes a very a light color. My eyebrows furrow and I ask, "What?"
"I said that's a pretty necklace you got there," he sends me a stiff smile. He keeps his distance and I lean closer to Harry's car. "I think I live in the same building as you, actually. Just moved in. My name's Kennedy."
My eyes watch him carefully and I raise my hand to wave. "Oh. Well, I'm Tara." This is the guy whose letters keep making it to our apartment about his cameras and home depot bills, not to mention my trip to his apartment then getting an earful of how he was spending his night.
I shudder a little, but he doesn't notice. He grins, thin lips curved up, and says, "I'm sorry about my mail. Must be annoying."
"It's okay.."
Harry returns, walking out of the place. He has his keys in his hands and looks up to see Kennedy standing by me. He doesn't react much, only walks up to me and expectantly waits for me to say something. "Harry, this is my new neighbor I was talking to you about.."
Kennedy sends him a smile and Harry doesn't bother, nodding his head and stating only for me to hear,"Let's go, baby."
The man beside us stops smiling, and turns away from us. He doesn't even bid goodbye as he walks back to his car. I assume he's just in a rush to go, and I climb into the car with Harry.
"Funny how every time I'm away, even for a minute, some other guy is already there," Harry mutters, shifting the car into reverse.
I sigh. "Yeah."
n. there will be much more. any predictions?
and thanks for reading!