.Natalia.
"Coffee is good here," Harry reminded us in a cool tone as he smoothly aligned on the lonely street by the tiniest touristy shops, his hand shoving the shift into park. "Really good." His mood was lifted considerably, shoving his sunglasses on top of his wild hair creating some sort of a careless street-look that matched his grey hoodie and regular black jeans. I smiled as he reached with his left arm across my passenger seat headrest to talk to Sean, who'd been steadily texting on his phone since we left Harry's home.
"Americano, right sugar buns?" Harry confirmed, more than ask, and Sean stifled a smile, accepting the offer, "We'll be fifteen minutes tops, so you can keep texting your girlfriend." I gave him a look, and they stared at each other across the seats, some silent conversation that only they understood before Harry made an exaggerated wink and exit.
We crossed the sidewalk together; stepping into the currently deserted sidewalk café, where we welcomed the familiar aroma of beans and brews, the warm roast-scented air hitting me as I opened my scarf for a heavy indulging breath of sweets and the repetitive steady noises of the espresso machine behind the counter, where a woman was already smiling widely at him, obviously well beyond caring about acting appropriately, as she was easily twice his age. My lips parted in surprise, as I watched like a silent spectator how he grinned back and his brows rose in that charming way of his.
Harry was a cheeky little shit.
I noticed how hard people worked to please him, it never mattered whether they knew who he was or not, he was so complex with some of the things he liked and so very simple with others, the unexpected imbalance of both creating his perfect persona, his aura shining with the most sophisticated power.
So he asked and people pleased, even with the modest shit, like an Americano to-go.
I felt that deep down, already a mess because of him and his frequently frustrating highlights as a person.
"So did you tell your mom where we're going and all?" I asked him while we waited, my hand playing with the small display of sugar packets and napkins. I'd been meaning to ask him but the whole getting ready on time kept me from the how-and-what-to-tell-Anne subject.
"No, but I did send her with my aunt for a couple of days."
My brows furrowed and I narrowed my eyes at him. "And you think that's okay?"
"I don't want to alarm her."
"But you could've mentioned something—"
"I did say where we are going."
That was not enough, something about the way he said to keep her safe and oblivious to our plans scared me.
"What if something bad happens, Harry?" My eyes shifted from the coffee machine to him, wavering as I felt my heart catch in my throat from fear at the thought, that I didn't know what I'd do if anything happened to him.
"Why don't you just say what you wish to say," He stated as though he had rehearsed his answer, both his index and middle finger tapping the wood side of the coffee service section. His expression was blank, though his lips twitch and he did not dare to look back at me.
"I hate it when you're this... this secretive!" I verbally puked what I wanted to say ever since his nightmare and bedroom lockdown, my hand gesturing wildly at the air around me, trying to make my point which was clearly not going to happen. After the initial surprise of his eyes, he smirked back at me and my casual outburst in the middle of the almost empty coffee shop seemed like a stupid reaction more than a valid one. "You and your hidden plans and your mysteries with Sean, your private calls to Tate, your not-telling-your-mother-that-you're-meeting-the-psychopath... ugh, why are you like this?!"
His eyes never left mine, not even to realize that the barista was stiffing a perceptive smile as she placed the three to-go-cups on the counter. My tone was pointed, challenging him to argue. His eyes flashed in a moment of wonder, but finally, he nodded at me.
What?
"You're so annoying sometimes." I couldn't help but roll my eyes dramatically, and I didn't even try to hide it.
"Sometimes?" His voice was bursting at the seams with confidence, hands taking some money, well worth three times of what we order and placing it into the tip jar, then taking all of the cups into his hands like they were nothing. He even managed to open the door for me. "If I'm being that annoying, then why are you here with me?" He grinned as though he had just won a gold medal, and I just rolled my eyes.
My already warm face felt as though it was on fire. "I'm just here to make sure the plan actually works, and that you won't mess it up."
He stopped right before we reached his car, making me stop in my tracks as his gaze and his nose almost bumped mine and I was almost counting the inches between our lips. I kept struggling to focus, trying to remember that it wasn't that easy for me to just go, but his mouth was right in front of mine and my mind couldn't stop trying to figure out how to close the space between us without being overly clingy and absurd.
He was so close to me I could smell him and the coffee wafting through the cup lids, the interesting mix making my knees feel like putty. It was a delicious scent that crushed my mind, throwing my senses into overdrive.
"If you're done analyzing me," He placed one single cup in my bare hand, my breath hitching at the casual stroke of his warm fingers against my cold ones. "We need to get going." The corner of his mouth twitched, pulling his lips into a half-grin and with his own smooth way, opened the door on my side.
My face heated again from the interaction, now wondering why on earth we agreed on the car places as I looked at him getting into the driver's seat, right next to me. I could've stayed in the back seat just like the last time, but of course not, I was now his freaking copilot and that meant making casual conversation or being somehow of use to him.
My eyes burned with curiosity as I looked at him carefully moving the steering wheel into motion, one hand blowing slightly on the coffee lid, making the cup seem like the smallest one, while in my hand it looked way different.
My fingers tightened against the carton-like texture of the hot cup, every nerve felt stimulated and every hair stood on end, as though the static in the small space had been corrupted by his dominant energy.
I was a smart woman to notice that this was the kind of stuff you see in chick-flicks, the kind of tension that I've never really experienced, not in real life at least. Maybe only on my side because he looked so unbothered, licking his lips after each sip of coffee, head bopping into each sound of the songs he was carefully selecting.
"What's the matter?" His accent drew the words beautifully. I breathed in and out, and just by pure nervousness, I started to chug the coffee like it was straight up tequila, the burn of the liquid out of hotness and not from any alcohol percentile. I turned over my shoulder to check if Sean was aware of what was happening in the front seats but he looked half-asleep, his muscular arms hugging his backpack to his chest, head resting between the window and the leather.
"You look like you're going to be sick," Harry pointed out as he took the middle lane and he steadied the speed, staying a good distance behind another car. "Jesus Christ, are you going to get sick?"
"No!" I shook my head and with another elongated sip, I realized the only thing I wanted was to shut him up with a kiss. "I'm just thinking... stuff."
"Oh?" He cocked a half-grin, looking a little unpleased with my answer; finally leaving the empty cup into space between us and looking slightly at me while touching his lips with his fingers. "Am I in those thoughts?"
I snapped my lips together, but not before "Not everything revolves around you, Harry," escaped from my lips.
"Well, that's where you're wrong, darling."
"You're being ridiculously lame right now. I hope you realize that."
"You make everything bearable, you know that?" A frown tugged the corners of my mouth at the reaction my body entertained at his words. My stomach muscles clenched and my body felt uncomfortably warm, not from the coffee, but from him. "I'm glad you're here with me."
"Just don't lose control," I said to him without thinking. Oh God. Again. Just for the sake of it, my mouth had a mind of its own, and Harry chuckled, taking the sunglasses off his hair and running an unsteady hand through the stands, messing them up. "I mean with the car." I pulled the sleeves of the cardigan down to the palms of my hands, making my mind to stay quiet for the rest of the journey. A small breezy rain blurred the windshield and I wanted nothing more but to throw myself out of the vehicle.
As we moved forward into the country road that looked vaguely familiar to me, I noticed the clouds starting to grow thicker and darker, the grey of the skies looming over the car as the rest of the drive was spent making small talk about music, and I was glad to say that he was helping me feel safer as he started driving slower as we approached the inevitable storm.
"Be careful, it looks like we're driving to Mordor..." I blurted out to cover my stress. He stilled, his eyes widening, and then a strangled snort broke free, escalating into a choked laugh, hard enough to wake Sean from his sleep break and we all sat looking at the lightning up the sky and the full force of the rain that now was coming down so thick it was impossible to see more than a few feet in front of us. I smiled, wanting to laugh too, but holding it in as my eyes assessed the storm, it made me crave the comfort of a warm, cozy house and not the sounds of Van Morrison mingled with thunder.
The weather changed fast; big fat raindrops the size of candies hit the windshield. But we were safe inside the car, or so I wanted to believe, as I looked over at how peaceful Harry looked while taking the road like this. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him flipping the wipers on a higher speed, his mouth still singing in the softest voice.
Thank God the heater worked. The steady wail of the heavy wind mixed with water engulfed us, filling us with a menacing feeling, swirling the mood into something unfamiliar, like a sinister omen growing on the horizon. He was about to add something to make better my already unnecessary comment, when a clear steady bump was felt through the car structure, just by my side of the car and loud enough for all of us to tighten our hands to the nearest place to hold on to.
What was that? I shuddered as an unexplainable force strengthen the moment, startling and shocking my body as my veins filled with unwanted adrenaline.
Harry stiffened at the blunt moment, the sound of his boot slamming on the brakes, skidding several feet before finally stopping inches from a very abrupt slope, both of his hands bracing on the steering wheel like he was keeping the whole thing together, and sending the car swerving the smallest bit before he regained control of the whole thing and steadied it again.
I concentrated on my breathing pattern, determined to steady myself as the warning noise coming from the navigation system of his very smart and technologic car appeared, cutting into the sense of dread, where a small diagram-like version of the car signaled a warning on the front left of the vehicle.
Check All Tire Pressures.
Holy fuck, no.
***