1 week later…
I could feel the heat of his body on mine beneath the sheets. It was nearing 7pm, the light outside dimming gradually as time went on and another icy, winter night set in beyond the walls of my heated apartment.
Although I was in my warmest woolly pyjamas and he was fully clothed, I felt closer to him than I ever had. I felt like his best friend, as we spent the entire day cuddled in my double bed watching corny Christmas movies, eating Chinese take-out and talking about everything, anything and nothing in particular.
“I fucking love hot chocolate,” Harry sighed as he gulped back his mouthful, closing his eyes as he rested his head against the top of the bed. “I love this movie, too.”
I nodded, curling closer into his side, my fingers wrapped securely around my warm mug as I tried to focus on the large plasma screen on my bedroom wall.
I couldn’t pay attention properly. Harry had his hand around me, his grip resting lazily on my hip, his thumb stroking little patterns into my skin where my vest had ridden up slightly. He was making my skin tingle, and that familiar dull ache had already begun between my legs.
“Have you ever been there?” he asked, pointing at the screen. Little Macaulay Culkin, dressed in his anorak and bobble hat was making his way innocently through central park, before spotting that weird bird woman who had always freaked me out a little bit. Home Alone 2 – ‘incredible, absolute classic’ as Harry had described it.
“Of course,” I replied, trailing my fingers gently down his torso over his Jack Wills t-shirt, trying to inconspicuously communicate my want for his body all over mine. “It looks beautiful in the snow.”
He nodded, taking another swig of his hot chocolate, my touch going seemingly unnoticed. I’d have to take it up a notch.
“You’ve really got a lovely place here,” he said politely, glancing around my large bedroom, the huge bay window that overlooked the city now blocked out by thick, purple curtains, sheltering us off from the rest of world. It made the room feel closed off, private, and a little cosier.
“You know,” I murmured huskily, my voice thick with frustration at his ignorance of my need, “this is the bed where we had sex for the first time…”
A devilish smile broke over his features. “So it is.” He exhaled as he recalled the unforgettable night as our drunken bodies had come together, colliding perfectly, gracefully. The start of everything between us. “Great night, that was.”
I grinned, letting my fingertips pad up his front, over his pecks, and down his arms. I brushed my touch gently over his exposed biceps, and to my delight he shuddered visibly, tiny goose bumps arising under my contact. I smirked with satisfaction.
He seemed to latch on to my mood, his fingers trailing up my back in a heavenly teasing way, his touch more fervent than before. He was driving me crazy. I could feel myself get wetter for him as he licked his lips temptingly.
“Are you doing much over the holidays?” he asked, a wicked smile tugging at his lips. He knew I couldn’t stand it when he made me wait, so he teased me with small talk, prolonging it for as long as possible before finally granting me the physical contact I craved.
“Nothing,” I snapped in reply, “I’ll probably spend it by myself, like usual.” I blurted out the truth without thinking, my mind whirring, hurrying my responses on so we could cut to the important parts.
His face fell a little, his gaze becoming concerned, his hands no longer teasing my skin. “Why on your own? Won’t you go back to New Jersey to see your family?”
I froze, my stomach churning uneasily as I realised I’d brought on all the questions I didn’t want to answer. I hadn’t wanted him to query it. I hadn’t intended to tell him. The familiar stinging behind my eyes erupted as it did every time this topic came up. I shifted uncomfortably in his arms, sniffing to stop myself from sobbing.
“I don’t have any family,” I muttered, my voice a dull monotone, “My mum, dad, and my sister Alice all died in a car crash when I was seven.”
Harry was silent as that all too familiar look of guilt and shock washed across his face, the same one everyone had when they found out. Then there was the part I dreaded most – the pity. That look in his eyes, as if he looked down on me, like I was some helpless child who was vulnerable and weak and alone. I hated that. I hated how he looked at me differently, now that he knew my secret. The same way everybody did when they found out.
“Oh God, Tamara, I’m so sorry…I had no idea,” he whispered, his voice full of sympathy and kindness, turning my stomach with anger. I didn’t need anybody’s pity. I was strong enough on my own.
“It’s okay, you weren’t to know,” I mumbled, shrugging it off, still defying the tears that pooled behind my eyes, but my voice cracked and broke betraying my outward show of strength. “It was a long time ago. I don’t remember them very much.”
Harry sighed, and I could hear in his voice how genuinely sad he was, how guilty he felt about reminding me of my empty childhood, my hollow past. His arms wrapped around my waist, and as comforting as it was, I couldn’t help thinking bitterly that his hugs were useless; they couldn’t make it better, could they?
“I’m really sorry, Tammy,” he murmured next to my ear, holding my head against his chest as a few lone tears strayed down my cheeks. I had never been one to cry much and I wasn’t about to start now, now that he was here.
“It’s fine, Harry, really. I’m fine.” I pulled away from his hug, wiping my eyes dry quickly. It had been so long since I’d teared up like this. I never felt the need to cry over it – it was in the past, and it should stay that way.
He nodded, his face a picture of worry, and I smiled at how caring he was, how loving. We’d barely known each other a few weeks and already he’d all but handed me his heart on a silver platter. He definitely wore his heart on his sleeve – and he had a big heart, wrapping everyone and everything he met with in his careful emotions, always wanting to help, to love, to care for everybody all at once. Sometimes I worried that one day he’d try too hard and wear himself out – that the effort of trying to keep everyone around him happy would result in his own despair. But he was a big boy; he could take care of himself. It just so happened that he seemed to have decided he was going to take care of me, too.
“If you need somebody to talk to or anything, I’m always here for you,” he said, his voice full of conviction and meaning as he pushed my blonde locks back from my face. “Don’t forget that. You can tell me anything, I’ll listen.”
I smiled at him, charmed by his thoughtful nature, while a tiny part inside of me felt sorrowful. It was a little bit miserable that the one person who actually seemed to care about me the most right now, who was most anxious for me, was the person who I’d known for the least amount of time.
“Thank you, Harry, I’ll remember that,” I said quietly, letting him engulf me into his arms once again, his warmth combined with the sweet smell of his aftershave soothing me into quietness, like a lullaby for a baby.
His fingers played delicately in my hair as I let my eyes fall closed. I knew I shouldn’t sleep here in his arms – I’d get a creaked neck, on top of everything – but his hold on me was so appealing. I was wrapped in his embrace, my head tucked securely into the creak of his elbow, like a newborn child in its parent’s arms. I didn’t want him to let me go.
“You know what?” he mumbled quietly, and I nodded tiredly against him. He continued, his voice pondering. “You should spend Christmas with me.”
I snickered lightly shaking my head. “I thought you were going home to Holmes Chapel? I couldn’t stay there, not with your family.”
“You could,” he insisted, “they’d be happy to have you. I’ll just tell them I’ve a friend who has nowhere to go for the holidays and they’d be more than welcoming.”
I batted my eyelashes open cautiously, glancing up at him. His gaze bore down on me, his expression perfectly smooth and serious.
“I’d feel like I was intruding,” I argued. “I’d be a nuisance.”
He chuckled, combing his fingers through my hair gently, giving me shivers. “Nonsense, my mum would be ecstatic to have you, to feel like she’s helping someone have a happy Christmas. And my family would love you, I promise!”
I smiled at how his tone had become begging, like a child asking their friend over for tea.
“Pretty please?” he pleaded, giving me those undeniable puppy dog eyes.
“I don’t want to intrude on your Christmas with your family; it should be your personal time with them.”
He shook his head, sticking to his battle. “I won’t be happy if you’re not there. If you don’t come it’ll ruin my Christmas. Do you want that on your conscience?”
I sighed, chuckling as I shook my head at myself and my easily won over disposition. “Fine, okay, I’ll come…”
He cheered, hugging me tightly as he whooped with joy, and I giggled as he slung me down on the bed. His heavy form hovering over me, his weight pressing on my body. The same throbbing need in my centre began again.
“This invitation is the nicest thing anybody’s ever done for me,” I breathed, my fingers entwining in his delicate curls as he tugged on the waistband of my pyjama bottoms, his touch arising emotions within me that wiped my memory of all my sorrow, feeling only pleasure and want for him.
“I’m glad,” he purred, pressing wet kisses down my neck, “That’s what friends are for.”
“Damn right,” I moaned as he slipped a hand into my underwear and rubbed his fingertips across my entrance. My gentle sighs turned violently to gasps of pleasure as he plunged two fingers inside me without warning. He smirked at the reaction he provoked in me, and began pulling in and out as I met his hand with my hips.
It was going to be an eventful holiday season, indeed.
Wattpad made some of the chapters private because of the smut, so if you'd like to read the smut parts follow me :)