Our bike ride home feels like an eternity, delicately wrapped up into a tiny, brief instant. And yet, while I cling to this breathtaking moment almost as tightly as I cling to the handlebars, my urge to get home increases with every passing second. The dread of being discovered by Gran and Grandfather gnaws at my stomach, pulling slowly at the seams of my enchanted evening.
How could I have been so reckless? So thoughtless?
A tall drink of water, that's how, my mind reminds me.
I almost laugh, but as the bike reaches the final road, my mind races faster than the wind. Thoughts of being scolded, judged, or worse- sent back to America, cause my pulse to quicken in panic. Shuddering, my body shakes the bike slightly as we come into the shadow of the large estate. Harry's strong arms keep us steady, luckily.
Ah, to hell with it! I sigh. Send me to the moon tomorrow with nothing but a pair of shoes, it'll still be worth having tonight.
Just as I resolve to leave England the happiest girl alive, Harry leans forward slightly, whispering in my ear, "Alright, careful now."
His deep voice eases my fluttering senses almost as much as the image of the large house blanketed by darkness.
Harry brings the bike to a gradual stop and I'm thrust forward. But, with a little hop and a couple of skips, I successfully avoid landing flat on my face. My eyes immediately fly up towards the house that peacefully sleeps, tucked away into the English countryside. There's not a single sign that anyone is awake or aware of my mischievous adventure.
"Looks like you're a proper professional," he says with a grin.
He rests his folded arms across his body, relishing the clear hold he has over me. A cool breeze rushes around us and nearly knocks the bike over. Harry stumbles forward to keep it from falling and I can't help but giggle at how he nervously tries to recover.
"Here," I chuckle, slipping off his warm coat. "You must be freezing."
"Ah, no, Roses. Keep it on."
I narrow my eyes at him, annoyed that he is going to get ill from insisting on being a gentleman. "Don't be silly, Harry."
"What?" he chuckles deviously. "It looks better on you."
Harry swipes his thumb across his lip, pulling at it slightly to hide his flirtatious grin, but it only makes his devilish smirk more inviting. I walk up to him slowly, the excitement of the night fueling my courage.
"I don't care how handsome you are," I whisper, playfully pushing his coat into his hands. "You still can't make pneumonia look good."
"You're a wicked woman," he says, his green eyes alight with humor.
Without breaking our gaze, I challenge, "You're a fool, Mr. Stylrd."
"You take that back."
"Never," I defiantly smile.
Tossing his coat aside, Harry scampers after me with his own impish grin. Squealing, I swing open the gate and run behind the house into Gran's large garden. I dash behind a row of hedges, but Harry catches up to me.
"Gotcha!" Harry's hand swoops around my back, but our feet tangle together. Our bodies crash towards the ground, only it isn't the dewey grass that I land on. Instead, I fall right on top of Harry as he lands on his back.
For a split second, neither one of us says anything. Harry looks just as shocked as I feel, but while his face settles into a grin, my cheeks burn with embarrassment.
"Good gosh all mighty!" I gush. Harry's chin tilts up to the sky as he bursts into laughter.
Hooking one arm around my back, he cackles, "Hazel, I knew you fancied me, but this is something else."
"Harry!" I gasp, smacking him on his firm chest. I don't care how handsome he looks grinning up at me, this is mortifying. Harry continues to laugh as I roll over and lay down on the grass, burying my face into my hands.
Harry pulls my hands away and playfully presses a kiss against them. As soon as his lips touch my fingertips though, a delicate stillness sweeps over us like a blanket of stardust. Harry lays on his side, propped up by his elbow, almost hovering over me. His gaze rakes over my body that practically lies underneath his, and my pulse begins to quicken. The silence suddenly seems to roar in my ears as we realize just how close we lie to one another.
"So you're alright, yea?" Harry asks, his voice suddenly low and hushed.
"I'm okay," I whisper nervously.
"Good," he breathes out.
Harry's chest and rises and falls more rapidly than I've noticed before, and I desperately want to run my hands over his chest again.
"Are you alright?" I hear myself asking. My body feels as if it's become paralyzed as my senses swirl with the warm, sweet scent of his spiced cologne and the faint of vanilla on his breath.
"Yea, I'm alright, Roses," Harry breathes in. He angles his body closer to mine ever so slightly, and my heart beat drums faster than a darn swing number.
"I didn't hurt you, did I?" I whisper, our eyes locking onto each other.
"Eh, broken rib, but I'll be fine."
The corner of his mouth pulls his lips into a warm smile and I find it hard to take my eyes off them. I bite at my lip, trying to steady my ragged breathing, but my shallow breathes only cause my chest to rise more noticeably. Harry stills again, except for the slight bob of his Adam's apple that has my lips aching to latch onto his neck.
"Hazel?" Harry's husky voice shakes me from my unwholesome thoughts.
"Yes?"
I can see the battle between guilt and desire waging in his eyes, the same fight that rages in my own veins. His lust, though, is eclipsed by a look of pure admiration. It nearly stops my heart.
"We should probably get you inside, love." His words softly tickle my lips as he hovers just a few breathes above me.
"That's probably a good idea," I whisper back.
"Just so you're not cold." Harry nods slightly, but I can tell from the way he lingers that he doesn't want to listen to his own words.
"And, so you don't get pneumonia," I quietly add.
"That is what got us into this trouble in the first place isn't it."
And while my head yells at me to move, that this isn't proper for a young lady, that I should be back inside, safe under my covers all by myself, my body aches for his touch. As if reading my mind, Harry leans in just enough to brush his nose against mine. His gentle touch is cold, and my guilt for keeping him out here surfaces.
"Harry," I breathe out, my eyes fluttering as my pulse races.
"Yes?" he whispers back.
"I don't want you to be cold, darling."
His eyes flicker open as his fingers lace through my own.
"I like it when you call me darling," he smiles, ignoring my concern. He takes our clasped hand and lays it above me as he moves slightly on top of me.
His eyes pour into mine as his body hovers over me. And without understanding why, my body screams at me to open my legs and welcome him between them.
Just as the shadow of his lips brush against mine, however, a whipping breeze rushes through the garden. The brittle wind snakes its way around us, fiercely rattling the trees and hedges around us. Harry holds me tight as he protectively shields me from its icy bite. His warm body shudders against mine and the fire once raging in my veins is replaced by the cooling sensation of utter guilt.
"I should get back inside," I nervously stutter, rolling over from our compromising position.
I carefully sit up. Harry collapses in a small thud onto his back, one hand resting over his eyes, the other on his chest as he appears to catch his breath. It takes everything in me not to move to him, to pepper him with kisses all over his face, his neck, his-
knock it off, Hazel.
"Yea, let's get you back," Harry exhales as if almost on cue.
I nod quietly, following suit. Harry's far more graceful than me, though, and as I try to stand, I nearly stumble forward as my heels sink into the cool, wet ground.
"Careful there, Roses," Harry lightly chuckles, catching me by the elbow.
"Gravity's always been such a fickle friend of mine," I joke. I brush loose the leaves of grass that cling to my skirt.
"I've gathered," Harry laughs as I feign shock. "Come on, before she gets the better of us."
Taking my hand in his, he leads me quietly back to the dark house. However, as I steer him away from the back door and towards my bedroom window, he begins to chuckle again.
"What happened there?" Harry laughs, pointing at the crumpled flowers beneath the broken lattice.
"Oh, um.." I shift awkwardly from one leg to the other as I try to think of a lie. "Just some wear and tear. Happened a few days ago." I wave it off, trying my best to sound as smooth and confident as possible.
"If you say so." Harry laughs.
I force a smile as I turn away from the embarrassing scene. "So.."
"So," Harry smiles back, his voice even and steady.
"Well, I guess this is my stop then," I nervously chuckle, clutching my hands in front of me. Harry laughs softly as he tucks his hands into his pockets. My breathing hitches as he bashfully looks down at his feet. He's so sweet and lovely and-
"Hey, listen," he says suddenly.
"Yep, mhmm?" I squeak.
Harry looks up as he nervously runs his hand over the back of his neck.
"I had a grand time tonight."
"Likewise" I smile back at him. I quite like nervous Harry.
"I know you're probably used to some big city or something," his voice trails.
"Harry," I say softly, taking a step to close the space between us. "Thank you so much for tonight- for absolutely everything. The movie, the ice cream, the laughs." The kisses, my brain subconsciously adds. "I haven't felt this happy in ages," I truthfully add.
Harry's nervous smile spreads into a beautiful, crooked grin.
"Do you think I can I call on you again?"
"Hmm, well.." I playfully drag out as he wraps his arms around my waist.
"On Sunday's I've been going for afternoon walks down by the stream," I offer up. "If I were to run into someone, you know, a friendly face of sorts, I wouldn't be so rude to avoid their company."
"Noted." Harry whispers into my hair. I hold onto him tightly, breathing in the faint smell of his cologne, loving the smoothness of his button down shirt. My body settles perfectly into his warm embrace. I can hear his heart beating wildly, but its entirely in rhythm with my own.
"I've got to go, Harry," I finally say, although my statement comes out more meek than I intend it to. Harry's hands drop from my waist, but takes hold of my hand as he walks the last few steps up to the lattice.
"Need a boost?" Harry smiles.
"Actually," I laugh, "That'd be much appreciated."
As I turn to face the lattice, Harry's strong hands grip just below my waist, lifting me off the ground and above the few broken notches of the lattice. Lacing my fingers behind the ivy and onto the wooden beams, I pull myself up onto the side of the house.
"Now there's a view," Harry laughs.
"You were so close!" I laugh from above. "So close to being a gentleman the whole night."
Harry chuckles, raising his arms as a peace offering. He takes a few steps back so he isn't immediately under my skirt and I continue to climb up higher. When I reach the top, I pop open the window and ease myself onto the edge of the window sill before carefully swiveling my legs inside.
Pushing myself forward, I land safely inside, only making a small clamor as my heels hit the hardwood floor. The room is cold and quiet, and I instantly wish I was back in Harry's arms. I turn around, resting my arms on the window sill as I lean slightly over.
"Goodnight, Harry," I call down to him.
"Goodnight, my Hazel," Harry replies, and my heart sways like a little tugboat. I smile back at him and with a little nod, I latch the window closed and turn towards my bed. It takes everything in me to not rush back to the window, call out for him, and demand he never let me go.
"Ho-ly. Smokes." I breathe out, collapsing on top of my bed.
I lay awkwardly on top of my oddly shaped pillow decoy, but I couldn't care less. I can't even process all of the emotions my heart just went through. Sweet peas in a pod, I think this is love.
Is this love?
It can't be, I sigh as I tug my headband off to try to relieve the growing headache. I throw it on the night stand next to me and of course, it misses and lands on the floor.
This can't be love. How would I even know what love is? Harry's wonderful, but it's entirely too soon to think like that.
I sigh heavily, exhausted from my swirling emotions and the late hour. I push the pillows back to their rightful place and nestle into them. Having found the perfect spot, I don't even bother to change. Instead, I simply kick off my shoes and pull the covers up to my chin.
The sensation of close warmth reminds me of the way Harry's arms felt as he had held me. Good gosh, I just want to feel that again. And while my stomach is flooded with little butterflies, they finally seem to settle their fluttering wings as I quickly fall into another perfect dream of brown hair and green eyes.