~Cassidy~

I stepped out of the shower, wringing out my hair and shivering softly. The water had been warm, but now that I was met again with the chill air in Harry’s washroom, I couldn’t help but to tremble. I reached for the towel hanging on the hook and wrapped the fluffy white material around my body, hoping that it would provide some warmth and relief.

Why had I stayed out there again?

God, I was such an idiot. I couldn’t stop being stubborn and stupid for one minute, could I?

Granted, at the time it seemed like the most—ah, sensible—thing to do, even though I was practically pissing my pants as I stood there on the wet pavement, letting the rain soak through my clothes and chill me to the bone.

He’d been so sweet though. Of course, he’d muttered a few things about how I was stupid—which I agreed with, looking back in hindsight—but overall he was a pretty good…boyfriend.

There. I said it.

After patting myself down with the towel, soaking up and excess water, and fully drying off, I bent down, picking up the clothing he’d given me. When I studied the pieces, I couldn’t help but to grit my teeth. Just a plain black t-shirt—I could work with that—but it was the bottoms that really bugged me.

Boxers.

They were fucking boxers.

I gulped, suddenly nervous. I don’t think he meant to grab these, seeing as he looked to be in a rush, and he’d only disappeared for a moment from the washroom to grab me some clothing. I shrugged the t-shirt on, letting my wet hair fall down my back. I squirmed at how uncomfortable I felt, so I bunched up my locks and tied them in another bun.

Gingerly, I grabbed the boxers, sliding them on.

Okay, so no underwear. Whatsoever. My bra and panties were drenched, currently residing on the tiled floor. I quickly balled up all of my clothes and set them down in the bathtub, hoping they’d be dry by the morning.

“Harry?” I opened the door a crack, peeking through into his bedroom. He was lying on his bed, facing the ceiling, but when I called, he sat up immediately then cringed.

“Fuck,” he gripped his head and I couldn’t help but to smile lightly at the way he scrunched up his nose, waiting for the dizziness to die down. It was pretty adorable.

Finally he stood—cautiously—and walked over to where the bathroom was. I emerged, feeling slightly self-conscious as I witnessed his eyes widen and gawk at my body.

I crossed my arms over my chest, hoping that it would hide the fact that I wasn’t wearing a bra, but if anything, it simply attracted his gaze even more. His eyes reached my face and he smirked lightly, and I rolled my eyes at him. He was such a boy.

“You look even better in my clothes than I do,” he noted, and I scoffed, staring up at him, “Shut up.”

That’s when I finally noticed what was going on outside. I rushed to the window, gazing up at the sky, my lip pulled between my teeth. Palm trees were blowing violently in the wind, a howling that I could hear from even inside. Rain spattered down on the window, and flashes of light illuminated the gray clouds overhead.

“No, no, no,” I whimpered, reaching for the string of the blinds and letting them fall, not wanting to witness anymore of the storm.

“What’s wrong, love?” Harry asked. Underneath all of my fear and panic, my heart fluttered when he called me that. It sounded good coming out of his mouth.

But then thunder rumbled, making me jump, and I hugged myself, “It’s happening again,” I said brokenly, squeezing my eyes shut.

In a total of two strides Harry was right in front of me, his fingers gripping my chin, pulling my boring brown eyes up to meet his radiant, stunningly beautiful green ones. His jaw was set, lips pursed.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, touching his lips to my forehead very lightly—like a feather. I whimpered again and he wrapped me in his arms, resting his chin on the crown on my head.

Slowly, he led us over to the bed and sat us down, helping me to get under the duvet. I couldn’t help but to note that this wasn’t exactly going slowly.

He was just about to slip under the blanket with me, but I stopped him, “You can’t sleep in jeans,” I whispered, “Change,” and then, to lighten the mood—if that was even possible, “I won’t look, I promise.”

He chuckled lightly and kissed my forehead again, sliding off of the bed and walking over to his drawer, ruffling through it. I saw him cross his arms over his body and take off his top, and when he reached for the button on his jeans, I squeezed my eyes shut, burying my face into the material of his pillow, subconsciously inhaling and smelling the lovely scent of spearmint.

After a few moments, simultaneously—the bed dipped and a pair of arms wrapped around my midsection. I jumped, but then he whispered, “Hey, it’s just me again.”

I relaxed, but then a clap of lightning sounded and I was tense again. Harry exhaled a long breath, tickling my neck with the warmth, and he tightened his grip around my waist. I made a move to turn over, hoping that if I didn’t see the window, the storm wouldn’t be as bad as it actually was.

Shirtless. He was shirtless.

I knew I’d seen him without a top before, hell, I’d seen him in only a towel, but lying here with him—in his bed—made the situation a hell of a lot more intimate and private. I’m pretty sure my lips parted as I took him all in, getting to see each of his tattoos up close and personal.

My eyes widened, “You’re not wearing a shirt.”

Way to state the fucking obvious, Cassidy.

He just chuckled, “How nice of you to notice,” He teased, his eyes sparkling, “You got lucky. Usually I sleep naked.”

I cleared my throat, reaching behind me and grabbing his hand, unwinding his arm from around me. I sat up; bringing my knees up to my chest and internally cursing at my body for letting this go too far.

“Harry, wait,” I said, pained. He sat up as well, but I scooted away from him. Thunder boomed again and I cringed, wanting to curl up into a little fetus position and disappear from the world right now.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his brow pulling together. I swallowed the sudden lump that had formed in my throat.

“I’m not—,” I tried to say, but then I broke off, swearing under my breath. I looked back up at him, noting how confused he looked and deciding that he at least needed a bit of an answer, “I don’t do this. Any of it. I—I’ve never slept in someone else’s bed before.”

He shifted closer to me, his chest and abs like fucking flashing neon signs. It took all of my willpower not to let my gaze fall to his magnificent torso.

“And tell me,” he said, moving even closer. I kept backing up until I reached the end of the bed, nowhere to go, “How is that going to lessen my affection for you in any way?”

I suppressed a shudder when he leaned his face down to mine, our lips only inches apart. I tried my hardest not to throw my arms around his neck and kiss him—even though I really, really, really fucking wanted to.

“I—I just thought you should know,” I whispered, my eyes flickering from his own eyes to his lips and back again. The corners of his mouth curved up in a small smile just as a particularly loud gust of wind swept through the neighborhood, howling.

“Well, now I know,” he said simply, shrugging, making his muscles all the more prominent. He moved backwards, resuming his former position on the bed, but now his arms were crossed behind his head. I gazed at the muscles that were bulging in his arm, my mouth going dry.

Snap out of it! This isn’t like you at all!

I know…but it just feels so fucking good to have someone else caring for me for a change.

Harry patted the spot beside him, wearing a flirtatious smirk, “Well, aren’t you going to come lie down with me?”

I bit my lip nervously as I budged slightly closer to him. Eventually I was back where I was before, and I lay down tentatively, resting my head on the pillow. He smiled genuinely at me his hand came up to trace the outline of my jaw.

Vibrant emerald eyes boring into my own, he whispered, “You’re so beautiful.”

I looked away, trying to control the embarrassment that was no doubt making its presence known on my cheeks. “Thanks,” I breathed, my heartbeat accelerating, racing a mile a minute. The left corner of his lips came up in a slightly lopsided smirk, one that I couldn’t help but return.

Lightning flashed outside again, momentarily snapping me out of my own little bubble. I squeezed my eyes shut, and felt Harry’s arms envelope me in a tight hug. “Shh,” he whispered as I made a squeaking sound, “Shh, love.”

There was that damn ‘love’ again. Fuck, he had no idea what he did to me every time he called me that.

I hesitantly let my hands come up and rest on his chest. His skin was so hot, like touching an open flame. How was he able to radiate this much warmth? I bet he never got cold, with body heat like that. He tensed for a moment but then quickly loosened up again, simply sighing and fastening his arms a bit more steadily around me.

“Let’s talk about something,” his low voice came out as a throaty murmur, sending quivers down my spine. I nodded vigorously, my eyes sharpening in the darkness and landing on his sparrow tattoos. His leg brushed up against mine—I could feel the material against my bare skin; he was wearing sweatpants.

“You have a lot of tattoos,” I noted quietly, and I felt his body rumble with a chuckle.

“I do.”

“Why?”

This time he shrugged. I pulled back as he turned onto his back, pulling me up to where he was. I set my head down cautiously on his chest, still unsure of what to do in this situation. This was new, uncharted territory, something that I wasn’t familiar with. This was change.

But I liked it.

Holy fuck, I loved it.

He chuckled at my carefulness and a moment later, I felt my hair being tugged loose from its bun. I inhaled lightly, emitting a small gasp as it fell down around me, cold and damp. His fingers plowed through the strands, stroking along my scalp and making me close my eyes.

We just lay there for what felt like hours—but it couldn’t’ve been more than a few minutes—as he ran his fingers throughmy hair, soothing me as large drops of water smacked against the windows.

Slowly, I brought my hand up, tracing the moth on his abdomen.

I felt his body freeze for a moment, and I stopped, but then he whispered, “It’s okay.”

I sighed and ran my fingers along the large tattoo, my curiosity overpowering every other part of my brain that contained even an ounce of common sense. His chest was moving up and down a little bit faster than usual, his breathing coming out a bit ragged.

I shifted my body, so that I was lying on my stomach, and looked up to meet his eyes, “Did it hurt?”

“What?” he looked at me and then realised I was talking about the tattoos, “Oh. Um…yeah, of course,” he grinned sheepishly at me just as thunder sounded again, making me jump slightly. I clenched my jaw, willing myself to push through tonight.

“Huh,” I simply said and put my head back down on his chest, continuing to trace the butterfly.

I trailed my fingers up to his pectoral muscles and drew along the outline of the pair of swallows just below his collarbone. He inhaled sharply and wrapped an arm around me, bringing me—impossibly—closer to his body.

“Would you ever get one?” he asked me quietly. Unable to see his face now, I was grateful, since his hand had moved lower and was curved around my hip—and fuck, I was blushing.

I thought about it, “Maybe.”

“What would you get?” he asked after he’d let that sink in. Lightning struck outside and I gritted my teeth, closing my eyes briefly before willing myself to get lost in this conversation and pay no attention to the squall going on outside.

I shrugged, “I don’t know. Something personal,” I sat up, crossing my legs beside him and facing him.

He looked like he wanted to protest, but instead he closed his mouth and simply propped himself up on his left elbow, his head resting in his palm, giving me a nice view of the flexed biceps. Holy sh—

I moved closer, so that my left knee was poking into his abdomen, and rested my right elbow on my leg. With my left hand, I reached out and tapped the birds on his chest, completely focussed on his torso. My eyes flickered up to meet his, only to find that he was staring at me with a burning intensity, lips parted lightly, nostrils flaring as he took deep breaths.

“Are these personal?” I questioned softly, letting my gaze drop back down to where my index finger was tracing the swallow on the right side of his chest.

“Yes,” he breathed.

He sat up as well, cross-legged, and I suddenly felt very exposed in only a t-shirt and boxers. I pulled my legs up to meet my chest and supported my chin on my knees, exhaling a pent up breath I hadn’t realised I’d been holding in. Harry looked down at his body and pointed to a bit of ink in a language I couldn’t recognize.

“This is my sister’s name,” he explained in a murmur, “Gemma.”

I was a bit taken aback. He never really spoke all that much about his life in England.

“I didn’t know you had a sister,” I said, gazing at the inscription. He chuckled, “Well, now you do.”

“Is she nice?” I asked inaudibly. He actually laughed; a full out laugh, like a siren in the cold night, so different from the tone we’d been speaking in since I’d gotten in here.

“She’s a pain in my arse,” he told me, smiling coyly, “But she’s my sister. I think you guys would get along quite well, actually.”

At that, I blushed—why the fuck was I blushing? It’s not like he’d given me a compliment or said anything mildly inappropriate. Embarrassment just came naturally to me whenever I was around this boy.

He saw my cheeks redden slightly and chuckled lowly. Determined to get onto another subject, I asked, “And your mom?”

He smiled widely, and I couldn’t help but to feel proud of myself, like I’d done something right. If I could make him smile like that all that time, I think that I’d be even more attracted to him than I already was. His grin was wide, innocently childish, something I found weirdly endearing. I liked it a lot.

“Her name’s Anne,” he told me, his eyes lighting up.

Momma’s boy, huh?

“She’s amazing,” he practically gushed.

I laughed quietly at how enthusiastic and loving he felt of his mother, but at the same time, my stomach churned with envy. I wanted to look like that when I spoke about my parents; I wanted to have that same love in my eyes, that same inexplicable tone when I explained them to people. But I would never get to.

“And your dad?” I posed, expecting him to go off on this long rant about all of the sports his father had taught him to play, how to talk to girls, how to ride a bike. Instead, his gaze averted from my own, and his smile dropped.

“Erm, I don’t see him all that often,” he told me softly, his tone not at all happy, “My parents divorced when I was young. He comes around sometimes, but I’m not as close to him as I am with my mum.”

I was completely shocked. I think my expression showed it too, because he finally looked at me and smirked lightly, “Well, you could say something, love.”

Love. Oh God.

“I—I don’t know what to say,” I stammered, caught off-guard at this. Harry just seemed so perfect. Hearing that his family wasn’t perfect made me like him even more, I think, because it showed that he was like me. If anything, it made him more human, revealed to me that he had faults, I wasn’t alone here.

“Usually people pity me,” he shrugged, and then smiled a small smile, looking up at me, “But I have a feeling that you won’t do that.”

I shook my head.

“I won’t,” I whispered, and then I cleared my throat, deciding to be courageous and add on, “I know how it feels, trust me.”

Harry looked down at his lap, chuckling. I took a moment to notice how attractive he really was, definitely enjoying the view. He made butterflies erupt in my stomach; he was one of the only people that could actually make me uncomfortable, the only person that could break down my walls in such a short amount of time of knowing me.

It scared me and excited me at the same time, making me believe that I really was bipolar. It was a confusing whirlwind that never dissipated.

But at the moment, I was enjoying it a lot.

Notes

Okay, so this chappy was ten fucking pages on Word, so I split it into two parts. This (obviously) is part one :p Let me know what you thought: COMMENT!

Guys, I'm super swamped. I've got so much shit to do, and it sucks. I really wish that this story could come first, but at the moment, that's just not possible. I've got projects due right after the break, and it's horrible, but I can't do anything about it, so I'm sorry. Next update should be (hopefully) within the next two weeks.

Can we reach 120 votes? *Hopeful expression)*

Random fact: A pound of houseflies contains more protein than a pound of beef.

~Happy Holidays (and Merry Christmas, if ya celebrate that shit)~