...
For the most part, my Tuesday afternoon was spent in the library. Addie and Elise were chatting about a film they had watched in the movie theatre the previous Saturday, and Elise went on and on about how attractive the main character was—right in front of Niall's face. She was talking about how his—sexy—facial hair made her lose focus of the entire movie.
Adeline, on the other hand, seemed to have opened her interest for the boy across the table.
Because who didn't like pretty boy?
It was strange—seeing how they were all starting to connect with each other. Niall and Elise had their fucked-up bond, and now Adeline and Caleb were at it as well. As pretty boy was the reserved type, it was too early to tell if he had the same feelings about her. He had at least stopped talking about bath-tub girl, which was a plus, in Adeline's case.
So, magically, all my friends were moulding together in mushy-pushy, lovey-dovey foursome.
And I was just watching.
Feeling absolutely knackered after listening to Elise's celebrity rant and observing Niall's depressed glares, I picked up my cellphone to turn to the person who in that moment seemed to be the only one who could put me in a reasonably good mood. After seeing his name on the display I instantly remembered the conversation I had with Niall the same morning.
I sighed.
ME: I think we need to talk.
He didn't reply for ten whole minutes, which was uncommon when it came to us. When I texted him he would normally reply straight away—regardless if he was busy or not.
ME: Hello?
HARRY: Sorry. I can't see you right now.
ME: Why? Did something happen?
HARRY: I'm busy. It's about Liam. I'll call you when I'm not tied up.
And so everything sunk into place. Almost. Whatever Liam had been going through that night was actually serious and needed to be taken care of. The reason I knew how severe this seemed to be was because Harry usually cancelled everything to be with me—but this time Liam got a free pass, and I was curious to know why.
ME: Oh! I hope everything is okay.
Unfortunately I never got a reply to that text. Instead, seven hours passed and he called me up, sounding less cheery than I had ever heard him be. He asked me what I had needed him for, and I asked him to come over to my dorm. So he did, and Niall exited through the door quicker than a bee stung jeopard. Supposedly, he went over to Caleb's place.
Once Harry was sat on my bed I could already see the pain in his eyes, but I decided not to be intrusive and ask him about it. Instead I crawled up to him (in my boxers), wrapped my arms around his torso and tried to pull him down into the mattress, only to then make him whine in complaint. I continued pulling his arms, legs and body until he finally cracked a smile and crawled on top of me, pecked my nose and gazed into my eyes.
"What was it that we need to talk about?" he asked.
In that moment I realised telling him the truth would be the hardest task I could ever set myself out for. The pain was still evident in his eyes. How could I possibly lay there and wreck his heart into pieces to then watch him leave even sadder than he had been when he came inside. What was making it even harder was the fact that he seemed excited about what I was going to say, as if it was going to be something positive.
I couldn't do it.
While shyly running my fingers over my lower lip and innocently gazing into his green eyes, I said, "I—I just think we need to talk more."
That can't be good.
A smile grew on Harry's face. "Like the other night?"
"Mm-hm," I hummed, my whole body screaming at me from the inside.
Stupid Louis.
Harry pecked my nose again, his voice softer than silk, "What do you wanna talk about?"
"Like..." I gulped. "I don't know. Just..." I shook my head, endlessly searching for the right thing to say. "Tell me something about yourself."
I cringed.
Fuck.
This was never gonna end well.
Harry's smile only grew wider, his fingers soon tracing through my hair, sweeping strands of my fringe off my face. "Um," he began. "If I won the lottery today, I would buy a sailboat."
I rose my brows. "Okay. Why?"
"Because I would love to sail." He chortled. "I like the concept of sailing over the ocean, just exploring," he hummed dreamily. "Though, the boat would need one of those sleeping cabins where I could take long naps while the somebody else takes care of the steering," Harry giggled and I couldn't help but smile. "Imagine how cozy it would be to have a cuddle in there."
"Hm." I smiled. "That's cool."
"What would you buy?"
I shrugged. "Probably just some really nice house."
"Would you invite me over?"
My lips curled, nodding. "I'd let you explore my luxurious master bedroom."
"Oh?" He cocked a brow, mockingly adding, "Why the bedroom? Why not the pristine kitchen?"
"Well, unless you're up for doing it on my marble kitchen counter," I smirked, waggling my eyebrows seductively.
"Oh, but I definitely am," he huffed. "Although, I don't know why you're trying to seduce me when we're attempting to have a normal conversation like two normal people."
"Not possible," I said, teasingly flicking his nose with my index finger. "'Cause out of the two of us, I'm the only one who's normal."
He rolled his eyes. "What am I then?"
The conversation continued with me mocking him, calling him names, making him laugh and soon enough ending up digging his fingers into my sides, tickling me as if there was no tomorrow. My wriggling form crashed with his torso as I laughed and giggled, desperately trying to break free from his grip. His fingers crept upward—where I was even more sensitive—and I squealed, jerking and twisting my body aggressively to make him stop.
"Harry! H-Harry!" I laughed, seized his left arm and tried to pull it aside. "B-Babe, stop, ugh, you're torturing me!" I kneed him in the tummy, causing his mouth to fall agape. "I'm sorry!" I laughed, "Now stop, I'm suffering!"
The boy towering me finally stopped to then lean in, grab my face and placed wet kisses on my cheek repeatedly until that started tickling as well. I giggled, turned to the side, allowing him to move on to the next cheek, doing the same damage there. Soon enough he continued down to my neck where his lips became softer and started trailing tinier pecks along the veins that were sticking out of my skin.
"Mmm," he hummed, snuggling his face into my neck while hugging me close to his chest. "You're so cute I can't take it..." He pulled away to see me blushing only to then place kisses on each of my rosy cheeks. He added, "Do you know how pretty you are?"
"You're pretty," the words slipped out of me before I could even think, causing my cheeks to redden even more. Just as I saw his face lighting up I began stuttering to find an excuse to what I had just said. I went, "I mean—I meant you're—you're–"
"Shut up." Harry smirked, nudging his nose against mine. "You meant I'm pretty."
In all honesty, he was not just pretty. His entire face was something out of a movie. With that I meant, it seemed that his face was sculptured the way people would like to watch it. As if his lips were meant to be that abnormally pink because people were meant to wonder how they could possibly be so beautiful, and as if his those dimples in his cheeks were carved into his skin for the sole purpose of making people feel captivated.
Perhaps that was a strange metaphor. Though, there was no effective way of describing this man's beauty. It was out of this world (which annoyed the shit out of me).
And so he kissed my cheek again, his lips then trailing up to my ear where he whispered bluntly, "Wanna fuck?"
"S-Sure," I replied.
After Harry realised the lube and condoms had been removed from my nightstand drawer (because Adeline had found it there a few days earlier and teased me about it), I told him to go look in the chest of drawers where I kept my underwear. He strutted over there and started rummaging through my drawer, finding it rather quickly. Before returning to the bed, something at the top of the antique piece of furniture caught his eye.
"Louis' list of bullet points," he read out, and I instantly felt my heart jump in my chest. "What's this?"
Quicker than ever, I sprinted out of bed and reached for the piece of paper he then held in his hand, but he only stretched his arm out in the air so I couldn't reach it.
"Gimme that! It's private!"
Harry smiled, "Is this what you wanna achieve?" he chuckled. "This is cute."
"Stop Harry." I was fully blushing. "Nobody was meant to read that."
"Get a better sleeping schedule," Harry read out. "That's hard." I slapped his arm. "Drink more water. Good one. Go to Amsterdam." He stopped, looked at me and rose his brows. "Why Amsterdam?"
"Harry." I rubbed my hands over my face to covering up the redness while mentally praying to God that he wouldn't read out the second bullet point from the top. My face scrunched up as I whined, "Please..."
"What does this one say?" My heart sunk in my chest. "Find...love?"
...