Plunge
Closer (part 2)
~Cassidy~
Harry glanced back up at me, his eyes bright in the darkness, “What about you?”
I shrugged, “What about me?”
Wind howled again, and I felt my back bend away from the window slightly, cowering. He reached out to me, grabbing my hand, and twining our fingers together. His hand was big, fingers spindly and long; he had taken off his multiple rings, subduing the coolness I felt whenever our hands touched, and now it was just warmth—a beautiful, comforting warmth.
“I’m telling you everything there is to possibly know about me,” he said simply in a hushed tone, “I think it’s only fair that you do the same.”
I chewed on my lip, suddenly nervous. He didn’t know much about me, but then again, I didn’t know much about myself either. I couldn’t recount happy moments with my parents, because they’d never been there for me. From day one, I’d been stuck at the orphanage, stuck with other children exactly like me, whose parents had abandoned them and left them there.
I didn’t like dwelling back on my time at the orphanage. In fact, I’d almost been able to completely act as though it hadn’t been a part of my life. Even now, this was the longest I’d ever thought about it since I’d gotten out of there.
I remembered squeaky beds in the bedchambers, being one of the oldest ones there. I remembered the tables and the decent food they gave us to eat. I remember the women that took care of us. They were—for the most part—strict; there were many of us there, so they had to keep us in line. But never did they ever resort to physical disciplinary actions.
I guess I got lucky that way.
There was one woman—her name was Consuela. Everyone just called her Sue. She had tanned skin and light brown hair, with the gentlest cocoa eyes. She was the most soft of the ladies, the one that the children all gravitated towards naturally. When the women let us play outside in the yard, we would all crowd around her, sitting on the grass while she was sitting on a rock, reading us a book. She had a beautiful voice, and she would usually tuck us in before bed, often singing lullabies to the younger children that cried and couldn’t fall asleep. Even the older ones—there were few of us—would pretend to be asleep in our beds, but we would listen in anyways.
Stop.
I suddenly felt a rush of anger towards my parents for just leaving me; discarding and disposing me at the orphanage like I was a used appliance.
What had I done to deserve a childhood like that? I’d always hoped that they would come back for me—maybe they’d left because they hadn’t been financially secure. Maybe they’d finally gotten a well-paying job and would take me in again. So I’d waited.
Eighteen years of waiting. Waiting for them to come back for me.
And they never did.
“Hey,” Harry leaned forward, lifting his hand, thumb brushing away something wet on my cheek. Immediately my hands flew to my face, only to be wet with more dampness.
Shit, I was crying.
“I—I’m sorry, love,” he whispered, his hand squeezing mine, “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“What?” I asked quietly, shaking my head, “No, don’t—don’t worry about it. I’m just being stupid.”
My voice cracked on the last word and I squeezed my eyes shut, more tears escaping down my face. Harry cautiously grabbed my waist, tugging me towards him. I complied, and he uncrossed his legs, elongating them.
With a soft pull, he set me on his legs. I was now seated on his lap. I hesitantly spread my thighs, straddling him. I thought he would smirk at me or make some sort of suggestive comment, but he simply pulled my face close to his, cupping my cheeks in his hands. His minty breath tickled my nose as his thumbs and fingers swept over my face, wiping away any water.
“I’m fine,” I whispered, opening my eyes and staring up at him. I shot him a watery smile, “See?”
He chuckled but never faltered to try and dry the sides of my face. Once the tears had seemed to stop—at least, for now—he leaned closer to me, kissing the tip of my nose. I smiled gently at him, loving the way his hands were splayed out affectionately and proprietorially on the small of my back. I felt sheltered, and I knew that he wanted to make me feel that way.
“Can I tell you something?” he whispered, pressing his lips to my left temple. I nodded slowly.
He smiled down at me, seeming to brace himself for something, but his smile was warm, “Well,” he began, “I kind of love you.”
I kind of love you. I kind of love you. I kind of love you. Love, love, love, love, love.
I let the words play out in my mind, and finally they sunk in.
Holy motherfucking shit.
We were silent.
I stared up at him, not knowing what to say. A part of my brain was screaming at me, just a bunch of nonsense, telling me to say it back, telling me not to say it back, simply a shitload of words here and there that weren’t part of coherent sentences. The other part was shocked, completely stunned into silence.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say I was in a semi-coma. No sound, no movements, nothing, simply breathing to let me know that I was still there, still alive and well-ish.
Matt was the only person that loved me. The Jansens too. That was it. Three people on this planet loved me. I didn’t need any more.
I realised I’d said this out loud, and Harry chuckled, touching his forehead to mine, “Well, that number has just been brought up to four now.”
I opened my mouth but nothing came out. This wasn’t happening, this wasn’t happening. How could he be so calm about this? He looked like he’d completely accepted the fact; there was no trace of an internal debate on his face. I, on the other hand, must’ve looked schizophrenic, the features of my face contorting and relaxing as I fought with myself.
Say something, dammit!
“Harry, I—,” I was about to say, but he just nodded.
“You’re not there yet?” he finished off for me in a question. God, it was times like these where I just lov—liked him. I nodded soundlessly, my mind still not wrapping itself around the fact that he’d said he loved me.
I expected him to be mad at me and to get angry at the fact that I didn’t know if I reciprocated the feelings. That was the thing: I didn’t know. There were parts of me that were simply yelling at me, telling me that I loved him, that I loved him so much, and other parts that told me to wait, that it was too soon, that this defied all the laws of affection.
“I—I don’t know just yet,” I admitted quietly, barely over a whisper. He nodded and smiled. He fucking smiled. What the fuck was going on here?
“Okay,” he said simply, and he pressed his forehead to mine again, “But just for the record—”
He pressed his lips to mine softly before pulling away. I hadn’t reciprocated the kiss, still too stunned to remember my own name, and he chuckled, “—I love you.”
“Okay,” I whispered, and he laughed, his whole body vibrating with it. I didn’t smile, though I usually would’ve, too wrapped up in my own little world to move onto a different topic. My brain couldn’t focus. I was frozen, simple as that.
“Let’s go to sleep,” he whispered, and he shifted, laying down and pulling me with him. I rolled off of him, onto my back, staring up at the ceiling and breathing heavily. He propped himself up on his elbow again, reaching over and tracing my jawline.
“You don’t have to say it back,” he whispered, and I looked over at him. He was smiling tenderly at me, “I’m not mad, Cassidy.”
“You’re not?” I managed to get out.
He shook his head, chuckling lightly, “Not at all. I just wanted to let you know.”
There was a flash of lightning and I felt my body tense, but I simply sighed and leaned up, lips puckered, and kissed him before he could do anything.
The kiss took him by surprise, to say the least. For a moment, he didn’t reciprocate, and I almost pulled back, losing all of my confidence. But then he was there, grabbing my face in his hands with newfound passion, his lips moulding perfectly against mine. I pried his mouth open and snaked my tongue inside, exploring the world beyond his lips. He tasted amazing and I sighed loudly, wishing that I could get drunk off of the wonderful feeling.
I put my hand on his hip, using it to press my body up against his. I had no idea what the fuck I was doing right now, my lust for him driving me beyond anything I’d ever done before. I let my body take control, pushing my brain’s demands away, wrapping a leg around his waist.
We broke apart for air and a moment later, dove back in. His right hand snaked down from my face to my arm, over the curve of my hip, and rested on my thigh, squeezing lightly. I raked my fingers through his hair, and he moaned into my mouth, making my body tighten up suddenly. But then his fingers were there, cupping my chin and soothing me, making waves of ecstasy churn in my stomach.
He ducked down, peppering kisses all along my neck, travelling behind my ear and sucking on my sweet spot. My breathing hitched, and I knew that I felt something. Something deep down, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. It was too blurry, too fuzzy to make out; I knew it needed time—but it was there.
He climbed on top of my body, knees planted on either side of my hips, forearms supporting him. I wrapped my arms around his head, fingers pulling, tugging, yanking at the hairs on the nape of his neck. He kissed down my throat and moved my damp hair out of the way, paying special attention to a spot below my earlobe, parallel to my Adam’s apple.
He kissed, licked, nipped, sucked, and blew on that small area, eliciting a moan out of my mouth. It felt a bit sore after he moved away, but I figured that it was to be expected.
Fuck, he really knew what he was doing. The whole time, I was just running my fingers through his hair, unable to get enough of the softness.
Just then, a large clap of lightning sounded, and I let out a small scream, my body jolting on the bed. Harry pulled back and gazed at me with wide eyes, pushing away my hair from my face, concern etched into his features.
“Are you okay?” he whispered. I whimpered but nodded.
We eyed each other. His hair was dishevelled, thanks to my little fetish. His green eyes were wide and iridescent, like a little kid who had just found out that Christmas had come early. He was panting heavily, his chest heaving up and down, matching my own. His full lips were pinker and swollen, no doubt from me biting and sucking on them.
“I love you,” he breathed, kissing my forehead. I was breathless, gasping for air at what we had just done, but also at how amazingly handsome he looked right now. I nodded, finally finding my voice, the words coming out as a winded stutter.
“I—I have a deep affection for you as well.”
He threw his head back and laughed, and I couldn’t help but to giggle breathily. What the fuck? I never giggled.
“You’re adorable,” he told me in a chuckle once he’d calmed down slightly.
He rolled off of me and I turned to face the other way, hoping that he’d put his arm around me. Almost as if he’d read my mind, I felt his arm wind around my hip, slung over carelessly. I grabbed his right hand with my own and interlocked our fingers together.
This isn’t moving slowly, a voice in my head nipped at me.
Fuck off, I retorted, smiling and closing my eyes. Harry moved closer, his chest pressed against my back, and I sighed lightly. He moved hair away from my neck and pulled back the collar of the t-shirt, exposing my shoulder and pressing a soft, sensual kiss to the skin, making me quiver.
“You know in the morning you’ll probably have some explaining to do to the Jansens,” Harry chuckled lightly, making my body move as well.
“Mm,” I hummed, smiling softly.
He exhaled lightly and shifted on the bed, laying his head down, “Sleep, love.”
So I did. And it was the best fucking sleep ever.
Harry glanced back up at me, his eyes bright in the darkness, “What about you?”
I shrugged, “What about me?”
Wind howled again, and I felt my back bend away from the window slightly, cowering. He reached out to me, grabbing my hand, and twining our fingers together. His hand was big, fingers spindly and long; he had taken off his multiple rings, subduing the coolness I felt whenever our hands touched, and now it was just warmth—a beautiful, comforting warmth.
“I’m telling you everything there is to possibly know about me,” he said simply in a hushed tone, “I think it’s only fair that you do the same.”
I chewed on my lip, suddenly nervous. He didn’t know much about me, but then again, I didn’t know much about myself either. I couldn’t recount happy moments with my parents, because they’d never been there for me. From day one, I’d been stuck at the orphanage, stuck with other children exactly like me, whose parents had abandoned them and left them there.
I didn’t like dwelling back on my time at the orphanage. In fact, I’d almost been able to completely act as though it hadn’t been a part of my life. Even now, this was the longest I’d ever thought about it since I’d gotten out of there.
I remembered squeaky beds in the bedchambers, being one of the oldest ones there. I remembered the tables and the decent food they gave us to eat. I remember the women that took care of us. They were—for the most part—strict; there were many of us there, so they had to keep us in line. But never did they ever resort to physical disciplinary actions.
I guess I got lucky that way.
There was one woman—her name was Consuela. Everyone just called her Sue. She had tanned skin and light brown hair, with the gentlest cocoa eyes. She was the most soft of the ladies, the one that the children all gravitated towards naturally. When the women let us play outside in the yard, we would all crowd around her, sitting on the grass while she was sitting on a rock, reading us a book. She had a beautiful voice, and she would usually tuck us in before bed, often singing lullabies to the younger children that cried and couldn’t fall asleep. Even the older ones—there were few of us—would pretend to be asleep in our beds, but we would listen in anyways.
Stop.
I suddenly felt a rush of anger towards my parents for just leaving me; discarding and disposing me at the orphanage like I was a used appliance.
What had I done to deserve a childhood like that? I’d always hoped that they would come back for me—maybe they’d left because they hadn’t been financially secure. Maybe they’d finally gotten a well-paying job and would take me in again. So I’d waited.
Eighteen years of waiting. Waiting for them to come back for me.
And they never did.
“Hey,” Harry leaned forward, lifting his hand, thumb brushing away something wet on my cheek. Immediately my hands flew to my face, only to be wet with more dampness.
Shit, I was crying.
“I—I’m sorry, love,” he whispered, his hand squeezing mine, “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“What?” I asked quietly, shaking my head, “No, don’t—don’t worry about it. I’m just being stupid.”
My voice cracked on the last word and I squeezed my eyes shut, more tears escaping down my face. Harry cautiously grabbed my waist, tugging me towards him. I complied, and he uncrossed his legs, elongating them.
With a soft pull, he set me on his legs. I was now seated on his lap. I hesitantly spread my thighs, straddling him. I thought he would smirk at me or make some sort of suggestive comment, but he simply pulled my face close to his, cupping my cheeks in his hands. His minty breath tickled my nose as his thumbs and fingers swept over my face, wiping away any water.
“I’m fine,” I whispered, opening my eyes and staring up at him. I shot him a watery smile, “See?”
He chuckled but never faltered to try and dry the sides of my face. Once the tears had seemed to stop—at least, for now—he leaned closer to me, kissing the tip of my nose. I smiled gently at him, loving the way his hands were splayed out affectionately and proprietorially on the small of my back. I felt sheltered, and I knew that he wanted to make me feel that way.
“Can I tell you something?” he whispered, pressing his lips to my left temple. I nodded slowly.
He smiled down at me, seeming to brace himself for something, but his smile was warm, “Well,” he began, “I kind of love you.”
I kind of love you. I kind of love you. I kind of love you. Love, love, love, love, love.
I let the words play out in my mind, and finally they sunk in.
Holy motherfucking shit.
We were silent.
I stared up at him, not knowing what to say. A part of my brain was screaming at me, just a bunch of nonsense, telling me to say it back, telling me not to say it back, simply a shitload of words here and there that weren’t part of coherent sentences. The other part was shocked, completely stunned into silence.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say I was in a semi-coma. No sound, no movements, nothing, simply breathing to let me know that I was still there, still alive and well-ish.
Matt was the only person that loved me. The Jansens too. That was it. Three people on this planet loved me. I didn’t need any more.
I realised I’d said this out loud, and Harry chuckled, touching his forehead to mine, “Well, that number has just been brought up to four now.”
I opened my mouth but nothing came out. This wasn’t happening, this wasn’t happening. How could he be so calm about this? He looked like he’d completely accepted the fact; there was no trace of an internal debate on his face. I, on the other hand, must’ve looked schizophrenic, the features of my face contorting and relaxing as I fought with myself.
Say something, dammit!
“Harry, I—,” I was about to say, but he just nodded.
“You’re not there yet?” he finished off for me in a question. God, it was times like these where I just lov—liked him. I nodded soundlessly, my mind still not wrapping itself around the fact that he’d said he loved me.
I expected him to be mad at me and to get angry at the fact that I didn’t know if I reciprocated the feelings. That was the thing: I didn’t know. There were parts of me that were simply yelling at me, telling me that I loved him, that I loved him so much, and other parts that told me to wait, that it was too soon, that this defied all the laws of affection.
“I—I don’t know just yet,” I admitted quietly, barely over a whisper. He nodded and smiled. He fucking smiled. What the fuck was going on here?
“Okay,” he said simply, and he pressed his forehead to mine again, “But just for the record—”
He pressed his lips to mine softly before pulling away. I hadn’t reciprocated the kiss, still too stunned to remember my own name, and he chuckled, “—I love you.”
“Okay,” I whispered, and he laughed, his whole body vibrating with it. I didn’t smile, though I usually would’ve, too wrapped up in my own little world to move onto a different topic. My brain couldn’t focus. I was frozen, simple as that.
“Let’s go to sleep,” he whispered, and he shifted, laying down and pulling me with him. I rolled off of him, onto my back, staring up at the ceiling and breathing heavily. He propped himself up on his elbow again, reaching over and tracing my jawline.
“You don’t have to say it back,” he whispered, and I looked over at him. He was smiling tenderly at me, “I’m not mad, Cassidy.”
“You’re not?” I managed to get out.
He shook his head, chuckling lightly, “Not at all. I just wanted to let you know.”
There was a flash of lightning and I felt my body tense, but I simply sighed and leaned up, lips puckered, and kissed him before he could do anything.
The kiss took him by surprise, to say the least. For a moment, he didn’t reciprocate, and I almost pulled back, losing all of my confidence. But then he was there, grabbing my face in his hands with newfound passion, his lips moulding perfectly against mine. I pried his mouth open and snaked my tongue inside, exploring the world beyond his lips. He tasted amazing and I sighed loudly, wishing that I could get drunk off of the wonderful feeling.
I put my hand on his hip, using it to press my body up against his. I had no idea what the fuck I was doing right now, my lust for him driving me beyond anything I’d ever done before. I let my body take control, pushing my brain’s demands away, wrapping a leg around his waist.
We broke apart for air and a moment later, dove back in. His right hand snaked down from my face to my arm, over the curve of my hip, and rested on my thigh, squeezing lightly. I raked my fingers through his hair, and he moaned into my mouth, making my body tighten up suddenly. But then his fingers were there, cupping my chin and soothing me, making waves of ecstasy churn in my stomach.
He ducked down, peppering kisses all along my neck, travelling behind my ear and sucking on my sweet spot. My breathing hitched, and I knew that I felt something. Something deep down, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. It was too blurry, too fuzzy to make out; I knew it needed time—but it was there.
He climbed on top of my body, knees planted on either side of my hips, forearms supporting him. I wrapped my arms around his head, fingers pulling, tugging, yanking at the hairs on the nape of his neck. He kissed down my throat and moved my damp hair out of the way, paying special attention to a spot below my earlobe, parallel to my Adam’s apple.
He kissed, licked, nipped, sucked, and blew on that small area, eliciting a moan out of my mouth. It felt a bit sore after he moved away, but I figured that it was to be expected.
Fuck, he really knew what he was doing. The whole time, I was just running my fingers through his hair, unable to get enough of the softness.
Just then, a large clap of lightning sounded, and I let out a small scream, my body jolting on the bed. Harry pulled back and gazed at me with wide eyes, pushing away my hair from my face, concern etched into his features.
“Are you okay?” he whispered. I whimpered but nodded.
We eyed each other. His hair was dishevelled, thanks to my little fetish. His green eyes were wide and iridescent, like a little kid who had just found out that Christmas had come early. He was panting heavily, his chest heaving up and down, matching my own. His full lips were pinker and swollen, no doubt from me biting and sucking on them.
“I love you,” he breathed, kissing my forehead. I was breathless, gasping for air at what we had just done, but also at how amazingly handsome he looked right now. I nodded, finally finding my voice, the words coming out as a winded stutter.
“I—I have a deep affection for you as well.”
He threw his head back and laughed, and I couldn’t help but to giggle breathily. What the fuck? I never giggled.
“You’re adorable,” he told me in a chuckle once he’d calmed down slightly.
He rolled off of me and I turned to face the other way, hoping that he’d put his arm around me. Almost as if he’d read my mind, I felt his arm wind around my hip, slung over carelessly. I grabbed his right hand with my own and interlocked our fingers together.
This isn’t moving slowly, a voice in my head nipped at me.
Fuck off, I retorted, smiling and closing my eyes. Harry moved closer, his chest pressed against my back, and I sighed lightly. He moved hair away from my neck and pulled back the collar of the t-shirt, exposing my shoulder and pressing a soft, sensual kiss to the skin, making me quiver.
“You know in the morning you’ll probably have some explaining to do to the Jansens,” Harry chuckled lightly, making my body move as well.
“Mm,” I hummed, smiling softly.
He exhaled lightly and shifted on the bed, laying his head down, “Sleep, love.”
So I did. And it was the best fucking sleep ever.
Notes
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10/25/15