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Harry carefully puts both my hands on his shoulders as he leans towards me. He slides his hands from my waist to the small of my back, gently pulls me closer to him, until our bodies fit together like pieces of a puzzle.
"I'm sorry if I hurt you," he whispers while his lips touch the top my head.
Harry pushes me back a little, he swipes my fringe way from my face. He stares at me like I'm some art to be scrutinized. His fingers stroke against my now short hair, way shorter than his own, his fingertips gently sliding through my scalp till the back of my neck, making my skin break into bumps.
"I miss your hair." He says with his deep drawl. "But not as much as I missed you. You can be bald, if you want to, and I wouldn't really care, as long as I get to hold you close to me, like this," he says as he pulls me back in again.
Wow. How do I respond to that? I faintly smile instead. Too shy to say anything. But my heart is wildly beating and I am resisting the temptation to jump on him and hasten things up. Didn't I just hate him weeks ago?
"I missed you, too," I murmur the words. Too afraid to just let it all out.
I bury my face against his chest and laugh my nerves away. This boy strangely calms the doubts I have. He is the quiet to the noise that plays in my head.
He cups my cheeks with both hands and tilts my head up, to face him. I place both my hands on his arms, my thumb gently caressing his inner wrists while my thoughts are busy trying to put reason to everything. But just like all of my encounters with him, logic has no place. Harry's warm lips presses against mine. A reluctant kiss shifting to a crescendo.
I can hardly breathe as we release each other. My cheeks flushed with longingness. Where have all my anger gone?
"You missed me, too, didn't you?" He smirks.
"Nope!" I say through my wide smile.
"Obviously," he laughs.
He leans forward, our lips touch. His kisses deeper. My hand slides to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, like i'm drowning and he is air. I feel his hand go under my sweater, his fingers are like electric currents sending heat on my skin. Our bodies move, craving to satisfy the need to be touched and felt. His hands shift to my leg, prompting me to lift my leg, as he leans forward and pulls me towards the couch.
I end up straddling him by the couch. A precursor to an inevitable. Should I, shouldn't I, my mind debates. Oh fuck it, my heart says. Didn't the wise men tell me earlier to just to do what makes me happy? This. This makes me happy.
"Ahem!" A familiar voice interrupts us. I quickly dismounted and sat myself beside Harry. Both of us looking flushed, me mostly from the embarrassment of being caught by Nana. Not like this is the first time we were caught and interrupted anyway. But Nana seeing me like this, I'm mortified!
Nana's eyes shifts from me to Harry for probably a thousand times. Why doesn't she say anything? I can feel disappointment from the way she is looking at me.
Nana crosses her arms, "I will be going to sleep now. Allen went out. You should sleep now, you had a long day."
"I'm OK Nana," I look at her with wide eyes.
"I will be going soon, Ma'am," Harry says politely.
"Good," Nana quips and turns around to leave.
Harry leans over to my shoulder. "Is she mad at me," Harry pouts like a child.
"Yep. Your charm doesn't work with her, obviously!" I burst into laughter.
He looks at me with one brow raised, with a lopsided smile. "But it does on you, doesn't it?"
Yes it does. It always fucking does.