Inherent

One of my biggest flaws (aside from those of a physical nature) might be my idiotic need to keep things to myself, things which should be brought up so they can be sorted out and resolved. That way, so much doesn’t weigh my mind down and leave room to breed negative thoughts and doubts. Since Harry came along, I am usually so much better. Even if he has to force it from me sometimes, at least I talk.

Right now I’m with Vivian, and keeping everything to myself is exactly what I have been doing for over a week now. I haven’t told a single soul about my confrontation with Alex in the book store. Not even Harry… and I feel guilty as hell for not doing so. I know, though, that he would no longer be able to sit by and watch as Alex continues to grow angrier and more volatile by each day that passes, more aggressive than the last. Harry would want to ensure my safety, and while Alex might deserve it I don’t want anyone hurt.

Even though he left a set of ugly, prominent bruises on the underside of my forearm last week, which still have yet to totally fade, I still don’t want to chance any more violence. I feel pathetic for having to wear long sleeves and hide my arm, especially around Harry. He would be suspicious as hell at the marks, however, because even now with a purplish-yellow tinge, hopefully soon to disappear, they distinctly resemble prints made by fingers. Infuriated fingers clenched as hard as possible around the circumference of my arm, which still hurts to the touch.

Vivian and I both sit on my bedroom floor after she insisted on doing my eye makeup, claiming she wanted to accentuate my eye color with some dark eye shadow. Before she came and I threw on what I’d be wearing for tonight, to Harry’s party at The Castle, I had to smear entirely too much cover up on my arm so the bruises won’t be visible. At least, they’re as hidden as I can possibly get them.

My mind uses all of its power to focus on something else, however, and like I have many times over the past week, I concentrate on dissecting every little word Alex said to me. About Harry. How Alex claimed I don’t know anything about him, and the things I do know are only what Harry allows me to know.

Before then I thought I know a good, solid deal about my boyfriend. I know about his mother, Anne, and he has a sister called Gemma. I know he had a rough time growing up, though not the specific details. I’m okay with that, because I’ve neglected to tell Harry a lot of things too, and am more than fine with waiting until he’s ready to talk about it himself. I know he spent several years in Nevada with his father before he moved to Chicago and took several business classes with intent to earn a degree, but then he started his career off with a bang in a lucky investment. I know he likes cats, hates olives, and thinks Pink Floyd is the best band to ever grace the earth. I know he can juggle—which he proved to me after I claimed not to believe him. I know all of this, yet Alex claims it isn’t enough.

“Look up,” Vivian instructs, sticking her tongue out in concentration while she applies my mascara. The sound of her voice, which breaks the silence that enveloped us not long ago, snaps me back to present with a slight jolt. Vivian makes a sound in the back of her throat almost resembling a growl at my sudden movement.

“Sorry,” I apologize quietly, my heartbeat slowing fading from the pulsing beat in my eardrums as it slows back to a normal rhythm.

It irritates me to no end that Alex just assumes all these things about me and my relationship with Harry. About Harry—someone he doesn’t know at all… only what he’s heard, like all the gossip about Chicago’s most popular. Which I certainly don’t care to hear. Although I know not to believe anything I might catch wind of about Harry, I’m not stupid enough to believe it wouldn’t leave room to plant more seeds of doubt in my mind.

There was just something in Alex’s eyes when he said it, in his sheer confidence and belief in all of his assumptions even though he is quite clearly losing his mind.

Vivian shakes her head in dismissal and continues her slow, precise application of the mascara while I hold as still as possible. If I read Alex right past all his nonsense, there might be something there which makes me almost—but not fully—believe there is a reason behind his enraged warning. Just don’t be so fucking naïve, Julia.

Naïve about what? This last week has been a constant cycle of these run-around thoughts and questions. A minute later, Vivian shuffles back to study her work at a distance and nods in ultimate approval.

“Thanks, Viv,” I say softly in appreciation, knowing my friend is much better with liquid liner than I could ever hope to be.

“What’s wrong with you today?” She demands as soon as I finish my short sentence, capping the mascara and tossing it back in my makeup bag. Although obviously irritated, Vivian manages to keep her voice level and void of annoyance.

“Hm?” I ask dumbly, confused and not exactly present.

“You’re so quiet—more than usual. And just now you looked like you were in a whole other freaking galaxy.” As always, Vivian is observant and intuitive to my feelings on an almost twin-like, telepathic level. Usually I might appreciate this fact because she has grown to know me perhaps too well over the years… but today, I really don’t want to talk about what is weighing on my mind.

I probably should, but I just can’t bring myself to. She dislikes Alex enough as it stands, and knowing Vivian she’d probably band with Harry as soon as she meets him tonight and spill all the details of what happened last week after he left the book store. He would be livid, and I don’t know if my heart could handle the consequential events.

“Oh, nothing. I’m fine,” I try to say brightly, standing up while I pull at the neckline of my dress. This one is a deep blue with a sweetheart neckline and shows off much more cleavage than I would like, more than the one I last wore to The Castle months ago. The halter straps criss-cross at my back and lead to ruched sides at the middle, which also draws attention to my waist until finally the fitted hem ends at mid-thigh. Right about now is when I start to regret letting Vivian talk me into the number when we went out shopping earlier this week. And it was expensive, much more than I would usually let myself spend on a dress I’d wear for just one night.

Out of the two of us in this friendship, though, Vivian is for certain the one with all the fashion sense. Deeper than that, I figured—embarrassingly—that Harry might appreciate this dress. It’s a nice, hopefully welcomed change from my usual shirts, jeans, and leggings. I trust Vivian and my own instincts, but that isn’t to say I feel at all comfortable wearing the thing.

“Stop fidgeting,” she scolds without even looking at me, instead focussed on checking her hair in the mirror over my bureau.

“I feel naked,” I complain, only half joking.

“You look great, babe. Your body is banging. Harry won’t be able to stop drooling all night.” I flush, only able to smile in thanks to Vivian’s brash compliment, and allow my hands to fall limp at my sides even though they itch to continue adjusting the dress.

“I still can’t believe you two haven’t had sex. How long has it been?” She asks, dubious as she turns around to face me. My face flames even further.

“A few months, which I think is pretty reasonable.” It should be considered a miracle I’m even capable of responding to her prying question.

“Have you two got some kind of marriage vow going on that you haven’t told me about yet?”

“No, Vivian!” I all but shout, childishly covering my ears. A wave of heat spreads through my body in an intense blush before the words have even fully left Vivian’s mouth. She cracks up at my reaction, totally satisfied. “We’re just—we’re taking it slow, alright? Jesus.”

To my credit, I only stutter once and I ignore the fact that Harry and I haven’t even broached the topic of how slow or fast our relationship is going. If it’s even going at all.

Maybe Alex is right, after all. Maybe I don’t know enough about Harry to consider telling him tonight, to have placed such unconditional trust in him. Damn it, the only reason I’m second guessing any of this is because of my original plan to tell Harry about my heart tonight. I have been obsessing over the idea for the past week, along with all of Alex’s creepy warning, and still I am no closer to deciding if my plan still stands.

Are we ready? Am I ready? To face possible rejection and then a life without Harry’s light… while I don’t want to be cliché, I can’t imagine what things would be like without him, without his cute visits at the book store which I have sorely missed over the past week, without his limbs tangled in mine every night as we go to sleep, without his promises of staying and his reassurances I am more than my disorder… what would I be then? The shell of a person I was before he came along and showed me what life could really be like?

But there is one thing I still have and that is his promise, and with it in mind I thought I was ready… but I have no idea anymore.

“After he sees you in this, I bet he won’t be able to help himself.” Vivian smirks, eyeing my much too exposed form with a faux predatory gaze.

I look away out of embarrassment and shake my head, not allowing myself to process fully what she says. I hate when she talks like this—not because I have some insurmountable fear of having sex with Harry… well, at least not any more than what I would consider normal—but because with each time it is brought about, more and more explicit thoughts unintentionally filter through my mind. And once they’re there, it’s impossible for me to ignore them. Vivian is well aware of the effect her egging on has, I suspect, and is probably why she gets such a kick out of my reactions.

“I sincerely doubt that,” I reply eventually, croaky because I have to force my mouth to work.

“Believe what you want.” Vivian doesn’t bother to argue with me any further, thankfully, and I watch with a glare as she inserts a set of pretty dangling gold chain earrings in each of her lobes. “But something tells me innocent little Julia won’t be so innocent for much longer.”

Taking a deep, calming breath, I use all of my willpower not to beg Vivian to just shut up already. With my conflicted plans, Alex’s idiocy, and the uncertainty of meeting Harry’s friends, I have enough to think about. After I inhale through my nose and exhale through my mouth methodically, my breathing exercises coming in handy for once, I try to relax. If I really want to dwell on it, taking another—intimate—step further with Harry scares the living day lights out of me right now, and it’s because I am so hugely confused about everything. I don’t have enough time to worry about Vivian’s little visions.

Unable to take it any longer, I hold my breath and turn to my friend, figuring it might be best to just let it all out in a single garbled rush.

“Vivian,” I say, only to have my throat constrict around her name. “I—I think I’m going to tell him. Like, tonight.”

My announcement instantly steals Vivian from her primping in the mirror, and she turns to me with wide disbelieving eyes. “Wait, you haven’t told him yet?” She asks slowly, incredulous.

I wince. Before I even thought about admitting it aloud, I knew Vivian would disapprove of my choice right off the bat.

“I just didn’t know how to bring it up—or the right time. Or what to say. Shit.” It all comes out in such a jumbled, incoherent mess it’s a wonder Vivian even untangles any of it at all. But she does, and thankfully she loses her unimpressed frown and seems at least somewhat mollified by my emotional explanation.

From firsthand experience, she knows all too well how hard it can be for me to talk about my heart. Finally, she sighs. “Just, for the love of god, don’t tell him while he’s drunk. You’ll want him to actually remember.”

Her advice causes my terrible mood to lessen slightly, and I smile wryly as I glance down to the pendant resting just above the dress’s neckline. It goes well with my outfit, and I couldn’t bring myself to take it off. Not even for tonight. “That’s tempting, actually. Maybe I’ll try that instead.”

Of course I’m only kidding around. Finally relenting and telling Harry while he is drunk would defeat the entire purpose… and he needs to know, definitely why sober. Hopefully tonight won’t become crazy wild and he won’t be too inebriated by the end of the celebration or else it might put a kink in my half-baked plan, and I’d likely have to wait until tomorrow.

And that would give me more time to chicken out and put it off even longer. “But seriously, Vivian,” I quickly say when I sense she is about to get into a heavy rant about my poor life choices. It would be a deserved lecture, for sure, but one I can’t bear to hear right now. “Do you think it’s a good idea?”

Vivian runs a brush through the ends of her strawberry blonde hair slowly, thoughtful. I stand inert, feeling precarious in my heels, and brace myself when she locks eyes with me. “That depends on you, babe. If you think you’re comfortable enough with him, then it’s a good idea. But only if you’re ready.”

More than anything I want to run my hand down my face in frustration, but I can’t even do that because the action would ruin my makeup and I’d rather not meet Harry’s friends while I unwittingly resemble a clown.

“That’s the problem,” I groan. “I don’t know if I am ready.”

Vivian chews on her bottom lip and stares, unsure what to say or what advice to give that could help me in my situation. I don’t expect her to have all the answers, however, because that would be unfair for her. She has never had to deal with something so huge, something which can totally change a person’s opinion of you in just one breath or the blink of an eye. It’s as if one moment you are a normal person to them, and then the next you are ill, fragile, not to be handled with anything other than a condescending amount of care. I don’t want it to be like that with Harry, I want him to see me as Jules, not the weird book store girl with the heart condition.

His Jules.

“How about I be the judge of that,” she suggests suddenly, and I can practically hear the gears turning in her clever mind. She bounces in excitement, her heels clicking against my floor. I wrinkle my nose, unsure yet what she means yet already wary. It isn’t that I don’t trust her judgement, but I don’t know if she understands fully how excruciatingly difficult this will be for me. While she has witnessed a lot of my disorder over the years and she doesn’t look at me as less of a person because of it, I still feel scared.

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” I say hesitantly, afraid I’ll upset Vivian with my disagreement.

“No, no. This is perfect. We’ll go and meet him—you talk about him, but I want to see how he really acts with you. By the end of the night, I’ll give you my seal of approval… if he deserves it, that is.”

I snort at her arrogance, well aware the idea has been cemented in Vivian’s mind and now there is no getting through to her, so for the moment I decide to play along with the idea.

“We’ll see,” I say noncommittally, though all in all it might not be so bad after all, and I smile again when Vivian claps happily in response, giddy with excitement all over again. I can’t help but to let it rub off on me too. “This will be perfect. I’m a genius.”

“Sure you are,” I laugh.

“Hey, you weren’t complaining when I did your makeup for you.” She points an accusing finger toward me and glares mockingly. “Treat your elders with respect.”

“Sorry, sorry,” I soothe, taking a few steps backward when she eyes a pillow on my bed to chuck at me. “I didn’t know three years difference made you my elder.”

Underneath all the joking around, though, Vivian does play the role of an older sibling in my life. Caleb cared but he was never a good example. He didn’t try to be—in fact, plenty of times he told me to do the exact opposite of whatever he did. Past all of his short comings he was a good person, and I still looked up to him even though I knew I shouldn’t have. While Vivian might not understand sometimes, she means well and always tries. Which, I suppose, might even be more than what my big brother ever did.

Vivian offers solid pieces of advice, too, and I seriously value her opinion. I can’t say I would stop seeing Harry if she doesn’t like him, but that isn’t to say I wouldn’t take my friend’s opinion into consideration. In an impulsive decision, I recreate my promise and try to see it in a different light. If everything goes well tonight, I’ll tell him, and I won’t let Alex get in the way of finally trying to achieve happiness. After all, Harry should be in a good mood. This event is being held in celebration for his second year of ownership of The Castle. I would balk at attending such a huge event thrown in my honour but Harry, I’m sure, will soak it up just like everything else.

“When is he coming, anyway?” Vivian asks with an impatient note and I know she must be getting a little too over her head with excitement. She loves a good party, and she has made it clear she expects tonight to be one to remember. I don’t know how to feel about that, still shy at the premise. Will Harry drink a lot? I can’t help but to wonder again. The beer I had at the game, being my first real taste of alcohol, didn’t amount to much. I’m still not sure yet if I want more.

Especially in such a public place when I’m trying to impress his friends. Right… probably not such a good idea to experiment tonight.

Just as Vivian voices the question my phone dings from inside my dress’s cute, hidden pocket with a received text.

“Right now, actually,” I say with a heat in my cheeks and a nervous flutter in my chest. I’m even more anxious than normal because tonight is going to be huge on so many different levels. Totally nerve-wracking levels which I only hope we are ready for. There will always be the possibility that he won’t be able to handle the news of my heart disorder, and as much as possible I try to squash the doubt from the back of my mind. The effort isn’t so difficult anymore, and after only a moment of doubt I revert back to my hardened resolve.

My eyes scan of the simple text Harry sent, reading ‘on my way’ with his usual abundance of x’s and love-struck emoticons. I focus on those to remind myself that this is Harry. Time and time again he has vowed to me he won’t leave. That whatever I’m keeping from him won’t change how he looks at me… and tonight is the best opportunity so far to tell him, out of any. He won’t leave. Alex might have been out of his mind last week. I don’t need to worry any more than I already do—this feels right.

“Good, I want to dance.” Vivian shakes her hips on a mischievous grin. I shake my head; Vivian, alcohol, and a dance floor are never a good combination.

Harry insisted on picking me up instead of just heading over to the club with Vivian like I initially planned. He’d said that since I’m his date, I should arrive with him. Which makes sense, I realized belatedly, though it might come down to me simply being inexperienced and naïve to date and party etiquette.

Vivian agreed to take her own car upon Harry’s adamancy, as mysterious as it was. She claimed it would give her the incentive not to drink much.

I had to resist an eye roll at that. Before, she has made the same decisions on multiple occasions and on nearly all of those I have ended up having to either drive her home or call a cab. I expect tonight to be no different… or maybe even a little worse than usual. Ultimately, we decided for Vivian to come over beforehand so we can help each other get ready.

While we migrate to the living room to wait on Harry’s arrival, I attempt to suck in all my anxious nerves.

“I can do this,” I mutter aloud, for Vivian’s benefit even though I’m sure she knows exactly how much of a wreck I am right now.

“You can do this,” she repeats, but with much more confidence than I ever could. I’m grateful she is here with me, that I have my friend’s faithful support when I need it most. “You got this, babe.”

“I hope so.” I lick my lips nervously and wonder if I should reapply a little more lip gloss before we leave. My usual understated flowery perfume is still discernable, so at least I don’t have to worry too much otherwise. I can’t change my dress even though the urge is strong. I want tonight and everything to work out so much it physically hurts, and now that it’s upon us I don’t know if I can take the possibility of things going south.

But they will. Everything will be fine. Harry promised. It’s so hard to remain optimistic when I spent so long being negative or at the very least neutral when it comes to my outlook on life. From experience, though, I know if I head into tonight with a bad attitude it will all be downhill from there.

“Finally, he’s here.” Vivian dances excitedly as we hear the familiar purr of Harry’s car in my drive way, and I wish I could figure out how she manages to be so graceful in heels which are an inch taller than mine. In this moment I feel like we’re teenagers and Harry is the boy we’ve both been crushing for an eternity. Sadly, the stakes are much higher in this case.

I resist a forlorn groan and watch curiously as Vivian click-clacks her way around the coffee table and toward the hallway. “I’m only sticking around for the look on his face after he sees you in that dress, then I’m out.”

“You’re going to be there when I meet his friends, right? Vivian?” When I don’t receive so much as a nod in confirmation to my panicked question, I grow even more nervous. If I hadn’t decided to be so stubborn and act as if nothing about tonight freaks me out as much as it really does, I could have gotten this moment of sheer horror over with hours ago. Now I don’t have time to even voice my worries aloud. Something tells me I won’t see Vivian until later in the night, probably after she’s had a couple of drinks at the bar and been socialised sufficiently.

“Just text me when you get there, okay? And then we’ll meet up,” she soothes after a beat of hesitation, undoubtedly having noticed I’m on the verge of having one monstrous panic attack.

“Okay,” I agree, soft and with a tinge of desperation. Why the hell I thought I could handle tonight while the odds are never in my favour and the risks being so real, I may never know, and I seriously regret making such huge promises to myself when so much could go wrong.

All the blood drains from my face at the sound of Harry’s car door open and then shut just outside, and soon I break out into a nervous sweat. My fingers clench together in my lap and it feels as if I’m incapable of rising from the sofa, legs crossed so tight it hurts.

His familiar knock sounds at the door, and I almost plead with Vivian to go answer it instead so as to prolong the inevitable. For just a moment I revert to how I was before, losing sight of the end goal while forgetting Harry is outside waiting for me. There is nothing to be afraid of; but right now my mind doesn’t work quite right through all the tension and I forget who he is and exactly how much he means to me.

One look from my friend and I choose hurriedly to suck it up, though, and as I rise unsteadily to start toward the door I try and bring myself a little closer to reality. It is Harry waiting for me just behind the door, the Harry I haven’t been able to get enough of. My Harry.

If it weren’t so true it would be funny, how just the mere thought of him mends my frayed nerves and allows me to relax a little more. Perhaps it might be the knowledge and proof Harry won’t hurt me or even dream of making me uncomfortable—at least, any more than what’s bearable—but I suddenly realize that with him by my side, I will be able to get through the night. Even if it does turn out to be terrible.

But it won’t end up that way, I faithfully tell myself, all of the sudden filled with optimism while I unlock the door. Today my emotions have felt like a whirlwind, though my promise has remained strong through all the chaos. As soon as I catch sight of Harry after swinging open the door, I’m instantly enraptured once again. He looks sharp, and that is putting it mildly. Tonight he wears a pair of dark blue, fitted jeans with rips at the knees, his usual sported brown boots, and a simple black V-necked sleeveless shirt, clinging to his chest and displaying his broad shoulders. His messy quiff is pushed back more than usual, it having gotten a little longer since we met, and it seems more impeccable than ever.

I tear my eyes away from his form in embarrassment, only to find him appraising me in a very similar way. His eyes darken as they travel from my heels, to my exposed legs, then to the way my dress fits my waist near perfectly, and then past my chest, lingering noticeably. He licks his lips when he finally locks eyes with me and I find myself way, way too affected by the heat in which he drank in my form. Hungrily.

“Hello, beautiful,” he greets quietly, much slower and the words clearly enunciated; they ring in my ears for several seconds and leave me shocked, totally absorbed in every little thing about this man.
Beautiful… Harry doesn’t call me that often. I can count on one hand how many times he has said it, the Sunday after we met and last week in the book store being two of them. It’s as if he doesn’t want the word to lose its meaning. So when he does call me beautiful… well, I about fall over from being weak in the knees alone.

It almost takes me a moment too long to recover, and in that time Harry smiles lazily in satisfaction at what he has managed to do to me from one heady look and a couple of husky words. When I finally mange to blink back to reality with my face aflame yet again, Harry’s triumphant smirk is still present. My own erupts with full force. Gaining some semblance of composure, I focus on him past my heated haze. “Hi, handsome.”

At the sound of my voice breaking the silence, much gentler than his mischievous, desire-filled tone, his eyes soften and he looks at me like he always does when I do something either embarrassing or unexpected. I’m not sure which he considers this one, but the bravery I felt before I uttered the couple of words remains and I don’t regret expressing my appreciation of his appearance. If I had the courage and confidence, I’d do it more often.

But it must be a good kind of unexpected, thankfully, because before another sentence can be uttered he swoops down to mold his mouth against mine. The force in which his lips bring to my own cause me to stagger back slightly out of shock from the sudden embrace, but his fingers are quick to press into my spine and draw me closer while his other hand ghosts gentle digits along my jawline. And he doesn’t stop there, guiding me backward and farther into the house until I meet the wall which separates the hallway from the living room, a light thump echoing as his lips part and he skilfully slips his tongue into my mouth. I gasp into the kiss as he trails his consuming touch from my neck, past my chest and finally to my waist.

Such fervency I didn’t expect, Harry having been in control so well for so long now, and I really didn’t believe a simple dress could be so capable in unraveling all of it in just a couple of seconds.

But I’m too caught up in him, his tongue gently caressing mine while he holds me as if this might be our last kiss ever, like I will evaporate and fall through his fingertips as soon as he lets go, to even think about breaking his addictive hold.

Off to the side, Vivian clears her throat none-too-subtly and for a second Harry doesn’t bother to pull away or even acknowledge we aren’t alone. He lingers, in fact, perhaps proving a point, and lands another quick peck to my surely swollen lips before he grudgingly relinquishes me. Automatically his fingers thread through mine to keep me close to his side. I exhale in a shaky burst, eyes wide while I all but hide behind Harry and away from my friend’s devious smirk. Oh, god… Vivian probably just witnessed every second of our exchange.

Harry, of course, plays everything off like he believes it is totally fine to make out with his girlfriend with a guest present in the house.

“Hello, Vivian. It’s nice to see you again,” he says, totally collected while I remain so rattled I’m unable to form a coherent sentence, clutching onto his hand while angled behind him still at his side. For a second my hazy mind doesn’t connect the dots to his greeting, but then I’m transported back to the night Vivian and I went to The Castle together and I ended up running away after a heated moment with Harry and a phone call about my grandmother’s declining health.

Since then so very much has happened, changed… it seems like light years ago. Neither of us had any idea what was in store, not by a long shot. Concerned. Harry was concerned, even back then when he hardly knew it. I have nothing to worry about tonight. I’m glad, though, that Vivian has at least briefly met Harry once before. She undoubtedly knows every last piece of gossip ever spread about him, too, but I don’t worry about that. Even if it was only to obtain my address to track me down, at least this introduction won’t be any more painfully awkward than Harry has already made it.

“It’s about time I officially met you,” Vivian replies, her smirk unfaltering as she no doubt catches a glimpse of my tinted lip gloss on Harry’s mouth, making them appear extra pouty and very kissable.

I stop myself, already feeling much too aroused from Harry’s dominant display of affection, and I focus on at the very least appearing calm. Underneath the poorly constructed mask, however, I’m anything but. On the inside I feel the embarrassment mingle dangerously with the hot feeling settled low in my abdomen. My heart beats a slow, loud rhythm in my ears—not much cause for concern, especially while I’ve been steady taking my medication.

“Julia likes to put things off,” I wince immediately at Vivian’s hint, wondering if she really knows what she is saying. Harry notices and squeezes my hand for comfort, unfazed, and Vivian keeps up her wide, welcoming smile. Through my nerves I file this moment for later, intent on causing her some amount of bodily harm for the obvious insinuation.

“You have a lot of expectations to live up to, you know,” she says before Harry can reply. Thankfully. “Julia won’t shut up about how great you are.”

Now I know she’s trying to send me into cardiac arrest. If I was so lucky to be standing anywhere near my traitor of a friend, I would opt to elbow her quite painfully in the ribs. But with Vivian hiding in the archway like a coward (or at least I think so) I settle for levelling her with frantic, wide eyes while my hold on Harry’s hand subconsciously tightens, too. When his thumb begins to draw a soothing pattern on the side of my palm, however, I relax slightly.

Vivian is sure as hell going to get an earful later, though.

“I’m confident I will live up to them,” Harry affirms in confidence and casts me a side glance, suppressing his own smirk while his dimples deepen with the effort. I try to meet his eyes but fail miserably, now too mortified to even function properly. He doesn’t seem to mind, however, because he pulls me forward to wrap a solid arm around my waist. “Julia means a lot to me, trust when I say that. I would never dream of hurting her.”

Vivian nods once, slowly as she stays to scrutinize Harry and the truth to his words. Right now I feel as if she more resembles my mother or how I would imagine her to act, if she had been around more. I have never had a moment like this with Mom, and I don’t think she would want it. Grandma’s opinion means more to me than Mom’s ever will anyway.

And Grandma already likes Harry. Heck, when I brought him to her he was the first person to receive a response from her in weeks. She thought he was Caleb’s friend, which hurt like hell, but that’s okay. Because I realized later she was still my Grandma, somewhere underneath all the fog in her mind.

Then, finally, through my embarrassment I process just what he said and the icy barrier which shielded my heart so securely not long ago melts that much more.

Eventually Vivian breaks out into a friendly smile and I all but breathe a sigh of relief. This is a sign she—hopefully—won’t cause any more trouble tonight now that her third degree is over with. Harry did remarkably well under the pressure, and I certainly did not expect him to admit his feelings for me so freely.

To be honest, even though I know it’s wrong and I shouldn’t, I almost anticipated him to be ashamed to be with me. I didn’t expect him to want to show me off to his friends or even meet my own.

“You better, Styles. Or you’ll have me to answer to,” she laughs, but it is obvious Vivian means every bit of her playfully posed threat.

Harry chuckles deeply, amused and unruffled by her brash comments, and he nods earnestly. “I’d expect nothing less.”

I focus on the fact that Harry officially has Vivian’s talked about seal of approval… or at least part of it, anyway. The night has only just begun. I try not to think too much or allow my self-conscious doubts to seep through and ruin Harry’s celebration.

Full on grinning now, Vivian hitches her purse higher on her shoulder and struts her way past us to the door. “Well, I’m off. Watch out for her at the club—she likes the jager bombs a little too much. Let me know when you get there, Julia!”

She doesn’t even turn around to see my furious expression before she shuts the door, leaving me in a stunned silence, left to deal with one very, very surprised Harry at my side. “She’s joking,” I stammer, face heated and my pulse increasing. Okay, now it’s a little alarming. But only because I might faint from humiliation more than my disorder. “I’ve—I’ve never even had one of those.”

Harry turns on me, eyes twinkling. I gulp. “Are you sure?” He asks, slowly and disbelieving.

I nod, mute, which only causes his chuckle to deepen.

“I’m not so sure… after seeing you in this.” His hand travels down from the curve of my waist to play with the hem of my dress between his thumb and forefinger. Under the intimate contact I instantly heat. “I think there might be a little vixen hiding in there somewhere, after all.”

All of the sudden Harry bends to kiss me, this time totally unrestrained, and my embarrassment is quick to melt away as soon as my mouth instinctually moves with his and I focus on his touch trailing to my midsection while he still has hold of my dress with his other hand, settling at the edge of my bra’s underwire as hot fingers skim my breasts. Even through clothing I feel the light, daring move, the boldest he has been since the night he made us official. Only when he pulls away to leave us both panting with lack of oxygen from the long, heated kiss do I abruptly realize exactly how turned on he is. Pressed flushed against each other, Harry has my dress bunched tightly and dangerously high in one fist.

“Harry,” I breathe, airy and telling of just how much this affects me too. The muscles in his shoulders have tensed again, biceps working visibly through the rolled up sleeves, though I know it isn’t out of frustration or stress. Now it’s from restraint. “We should—we should get going.”

The words are forced from my mouth only because I know all too well that if this continues, I don’t know where it will end, and while the thought is a little terrifying I find myself wanting to go on and find out. I trust Harry wholly when it comes to such intimacy, I realize with surprise.

With a tense nod, Harry releases my dress and smooths it out, leaving an electrifying path when he intentionally makes contact all across my upper thighs. I tense, though not out of nervousness… I tense because I want more.

“Come on, before I change my mind,” he rasps, shaking his head at me as if I was the one to initiate such a heated moment. I’m pretty sure Harry wouldn’t miss a party being held in his honor to fool around with me—or at least, I don’t think he would. Smiling shyly, I take a small step backward and reach for my small purse left on the end table around the corner. I feel his eyes burn into my figure from behind, and much to my surprise and embarrassment he emits a loud, almost pained groan. “Fuck. You are so tempting.”

And with that, I know tonight is going to be interesting.

Notes

So I have a question for you! It's actually quite serious and I really need to know, because it depends on your opinion for what happens in the story.

Now, how do I word this... all along I planned to write the intimate moments of Harry's and Julia's relationship, including their first time (which will happen I swear!). However, I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable, so is that something you would like to see? Let me know guys! I'd appreciate it so much. If you don't want to be too detailed in your answer, a simple yes or no is fine!

The next few chapters will all take place at The Castle, and a lot of stuff is going to happen. Things are going to get intense, too, but I can't say how or when of course!

Comment... rate? :) Thanks for reading!