Flashes in Time
Chapter Seventeen
As the phone ringtone blared through the house, Harry walked passed Mirabelle without a word as she sat on the last step of the staircase, her nose buried in a book. Yes, a book. She had seemed to develop a great passion for reading over the past few days that he refused to talk to her.
She had really pissed him off.
Harry pushed up his long sleeved shirt and picked up the phone in clear annoyance.
“Hello?”
“Aye, Harry,” Louis’s loud voice boomed through the voice. Harry winced and held the phone away from his ear.
“What’s up?”
“What do you mean, ‘what’s up’? Where the hell are you? We got an interview in thirty minutes!”
Harry nearly dropped the phone as he remembered.
“Oh shit,” Harry cursed, fisting his hair. “I’ll be there in twenty tops,” he promised, then hung up, running towards the stairs.
Harry was too busy thinking about how stupid he was to have forgotten such a big interview so easily, that he didn’t notice himself approaching Mirabelle, who sat on the staircase reading her book.
He tripped and fell on top of her.
“Shit!” Harry yelled, hitting his head on the floor.
“What the hell, Harry!” Mirabelle yelled, glaring at him as she held her bruised shoulder.
“Sorry,” he apologized bluntly. “I’m late for an interview.”
Mirabelle rolled her eyes and sat up, staring at the book that Harry had caused some folded pages on. Harry picked himself up and continued up the stairs, running into his room and shedding of his clothes, picking out an outfit which he hoped would match, from his closet.
He shook his head full of hair and headed towards his bathroom, pulling a bit of gel in to hold it back. He didn’t look his best, but it would have to do. After pulling some shoes on, he grabbed his phone and slipped it into his pocket, shuffling back down the stairs. When he didn’t see Mirabelle immediately, he only called out, “I’m leaving! Call if you need anything!”, and then headed out through the garage.
When Harry walk back through his front door three hours later, he wasn’t surprised to see Mirabelle passed out of the stairway, her book flat on her face. She was snoring so soft, it was almost inaudible. Harry smirked and shrugged his jacket off, throwing it onto the jacket stand. He wiggled his fingers and approached Mirabelle, attacking her sides. She woke up screaming.
Harry pulled away laughing loudly, until he saw Mirabelle starting to cry.
“I-I’m sorry,” he mumbled, bending down to meet her at eye level. “Did I hurt you?”
Mirabelle’s lips quivered and she shook her head from side to side, telling him no. Harry guessed she had had another vision.
“Hey, hey,” Harry said gently, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Come here.” Harry bit his lip as Mirabelle’s breathing rate increased, and she covered her face with her hands. When she took her hands away, her eyes were even more bloodshot.
“It wasn’t a vision.” She whispered.
“Then what was it?”
“I was just thinking.” Mirabelle said quietly, refusing to make eye contact with Harry.
“What could have been as bad of a thought as to make you cry?” Harry pressed, suddenly curious of what was going through Mirabelle’s mind. Not that he wasn’t always curious.
Mirabelle looked up at Harry stood up, causing him to stand up with her. He stood in front of her and she looked away.
“I don’t need your help.”
Harry’s fists clenched. Sick and tired. He was sick and tired of hearing those words coming from Mirabelle’s mouth. He groaned frustrated and pushed passed her, only to be stopped by her hand grabbing his.
“Wait.”
Harry turned swiftly, readjusting his grip on Mirabelle’s warm hand.
“No, you wait just one minute, Mirabelle,” he growled, moving forward and Mirabelle moved backward, until Mirabelle’s back hit the wall. Her tears were gone, and instead she looked up at Harry with fear.
“D-Don’t hurt me.” She pleaded, her eyes wide.
Realization hit Harry immediately and he stepped back, feeling guilty. “I didn’t mean to,” he said in a timid voice. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s just… I just…” Mirabelle’s heart raced as she felt her nerves tingle from Harry’s touch. She began crying again.
“Please tell me why you’re crying.” Harry begged, holding her face in his hands. But before he knew it, Mirabelle was sliding past him, sprinting away and to the backyard porch.
He watched from inside the house, through the window, as Mirabelle leaned against the wall, her chest rising and falling at an unsteady pace. She was wiping away tears and her head hung low.
Mirabelle was such a tough girl on the outside. She looked like she could kill someone with her glare. But if someone could only just get to know her, it was apparent that she was broken. And confused. And terrified of her past, of who she was.
Harry recollected himself and stood up straighter, opening the backyard door. The dark night sky did not lighten the mood what-so-ever, so Harry intended on doing so. Whatever he did, he was going to fix this.
He stood awkwardly a few feet from Mirabelle, who was huddled against the wall of the patio. Harry gulped and walked towards her, reaching down to tap her shoulder. He winced when she looked up, afraid of her.
Mirabelle was the only woman Harry had ever feared, besides his kindergarten teacher who had been an absolute bitch to everyone.
“I just don’t know what this is.” Mirabelle breathed out, gulping as well.
Harry tilted his head to the side, confused. “What what is?”
“This feeling.”
Harry bit his lip and sat down beside her, realizing how cold the wall was from the windy atmosphere.
“How does it feel?”
‘Warm,” Mirabelle began, “and tingly. Like every nerve in my body is buzzing with electricity. I feel happy, and confused and terrified, all at the same time. I can’t control it, and it just gets stronger every day. It’s so irritating and so annoying, yet I feel…happy. It’s like my heart is set on fire. A great big fire.”
“Does it happen all the time?” Harry asked, interested in Mirabelle’s explanation.
“No.”
“Then when?”
Mirabelle stared out, directly forward, not making eye contact with Harry. Her words were barely audible.
“When I’m with you.”
Harry’s breath hitched in his throat, but as the words settled in, a smile began to grow on his face.
“That’s exactly how I feel when I’m with you.” He whispered back, scared of her reaction.
“What does it mean?” Mirabelle asked, tearing her gaze away from the distance, to Harry’s sparkling green eyes.
“It means that you might care or feel a way about someone that you wouldn’t feel with a normal friend. It means that you’d want to get to know them better, and see a side to someone that may lead to you being intrigued by them even more. In other words, it means you’re attracted to them in many aspects.”
“Is…is that how you feel about me?” Mirabelle asked, biting her lip.
Harry smirked. “Is that how you feel about me?”
“I asked you first.” Mirabelle laughed, a teasing smile on her plump lips.
“But I explained it.”
“But only because I asked you.”
“And I answered because you asked me.”
“So I have the right to know.”
“So do I!” Harry shot back, grinning like crazy.
“God damn, Harry,” Mirabelle giggled. “Just answer my question!”
“Fine.” Harry growled, crushing his lips against hers.
This caught Mirabelle completely off guard, and her first instinct was to push him away. She stared at Harry wide eyed, as he looked away embarrassed at the rejection he had received.
“Sorry,” she whispered almost seductively. “Just my reflexes kicking in.” She gulped down all her disagreeing emotions and threw her legs over Harry’s lap, wrapping her arms around Harry’s neck from the side to pull him back in.
The sudden forwardness in Mirabelle surprised Harry. But it didn’t matter, because it was sexy. The feeling of her soft, sweet lips against his was enough to make him fly over the clouds and never come back down. Her lips felt so right on his, and he knew by the way he felt her smile as they kissed, that she felt the same way. Before long, the kiss had deepened and Mirabelle was on Harry’s lap, straddling him. His hands roamed up and down her hand, and along her hips, while her fingers combed through his hair.
Harry and Mirabelle broke their kiss, panting hard. Their foreheads pressed against each other, Harry decided he would no longer keep the suggestion lingering in his mouth.
“Mirabelle, let me take you on a date.”
She had really pissed him off.
Harry pushed up his long sleeved shirt and picked up the phone in clear annoyance.
“Hello?”
“Aye, Harry,” Louis’s loud voice boomed through the voice. Harry winced and held the phone away from his ear.
“What’s up?”
“What do you mean, ‘what’s up’? Where the hell are you? We got an interview in thirty minutes!”
Harry nearly dropped the phone as he remembered.
“Oh shit,” Harry cursed, fisting his hair. “I’ll be there in twenty tops,” he promised, then hung up, running towards the stairs.
Harry was too busy thinking about how stupid he was to have forgotten such a big interview so easily, that he didn’t notice himself approaching Mirabelle, who sat on the staircase reading her book.
He tripped and fell on top of her.
“Shit!” Harry yelled, hitting his head on the floor.
“What the hell, Harry!” Mirabelle yelled, glaring at him as she held her bruised shoulder.
“Sorry,” he apologized bluntly. “I’m late for an interview.”
Mirabelle rolled her eyes and sat up, staring at the book that Harry had caused some folded pages on. Harry picked himself up and continued up the stairs, running into his room and shedding of his clothes, picking out an outfit which he hoped would match, from his closet.
He shook his head full of hair and headed towards his bathroom, pulling a bit of gel in to hold it back. He didn’t look his best, but it would have to do. After pulling some shoes on, he grabbed his phone and slipped it into his pocket, shuffling back down the stairs. When he didn’t see Mirabelle immediately, he only called out, “I’m leaving! Call if you need anything!”, and then headed out through the garage.
When Harry walk back through his front door three hours later, he wasn’t surprised to see Mirabelle passed out of the stairway, her book flat on her face. She was snoring so soft, it was almost inaudible. Harry smirked and shrugged his jacket off, throwing it onto the jacket stand. He wiggled his fingers and approached Mirabelle, attacking her sides. She woke up screaming.
Harry pulled away laughing loudly, until he saw Mirabelle starting to cry.
“I-I’m sorry,” he mumbled, bending down to meet her at eye level. “Did I hurt you?”
Mirabelle’s lips quivered and she shook her head from side to side, telling him no. Harry guessed she had had another vision.
“Hey, hey,” Harry said gently, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Come here.” Harry bit his lip as Mirabelle’s breathing rate increased, and she covered her face with her hands. When she took her hands away, her eyes were even more bloodshot.
“It wasn’t a vision.” She whispered.
“Then what was it?”
“I was just thinking.” Mirabelle said quietly, refusing to make eye contact with Harry.
“What could have been as bad of a thought as to make you cry?” Harry pressed, suddenly curious of what was going through Mirabelle’s mind. Not that he wasn’t always curious.
Mirabelle looked up at Harry stood up, causing him to stand up with her. He stood in front of her and she looked away.
“I don’t need your help.”
Harry’s fists clenched. Sick and tired. He was sick and tired of hearing those words coming from Mirabelle’s mouth. He groaned frustrated and pushed passed her, only to be stopped by her hand grabbing his.
“Wait.”
Harry turned swiftly, readjusting his grip on Mirabelle’s warm hand.
“No, you wait just one minute, Mirabelle,” he growled, moving forward and Mirabelle moved backward, until Mirabelle’s back hit the wall. Her tears were gone, and instead she looked up at Harry with fear.
“D-Don’t hurt me.” She pleaded, her eyes wide.
Realization hit Harry immediately and he stepped back, feeling guilty. “I didn’t mean to,” he said in a timid voice. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s just… I just…” Mirabelle’s heart raced as she felt her nerves tingle from Harry’s touch. She began crying again.
“Please tell me why you’re crying.” Harry begged, holding her face in his hands. But before he knew it, Mirabelle was sliding past him, sprinting away and to the backyard porch.
He watched from inside the house, through the window, as Mirabelle leaned against the wall, her chest rising and falling at an unsteady pace. She was wiping away tears and her head hung low.
Mirabelle was such a tough girl on the outside. She looked like she could kill someone with her glare. But if someone could only just get to know her, it was apparent that she was broken. And confused. And terrified of her past, of who she was.
Harry recollected himself and stood up straighter, opening the backyard door. The dark night sky did not lighten the mood what-so-ever, so Harry intended on doing so. Whatever he did, he was going to fix this.
He stood awkwardly a few feet from Mirabelle, who was huddled against the wall of the patio. Harry gulped and walked towards her, reaching down to tap her shoulder. He winced when she looked up, afraid of her.
Mirabelle was the only woman Harry had ever feared, besides his kindergarten teacher who had been an absolute bitch to everyone.
“I just don’t know what this is.” Mirabelle breathed out, gulping as well.
Harry tilted his head to the side, confused. “What what is?”
“This feeling.”
Harry bit his lip and sat down beside her, realizing how cold the wall was from the windy atmosphere.
“How does it feel?”
‘Warm,” Mirabelle began, “and tingly. Like every nerve in my body is buzzing with electricity. I feel happy, and confused and terrified, all at the same time. I can’t control it, and it just gets stronger every day. It’s so irritating and so annoying, yet I feel…happy. It’s like my heart is set on fire. A great big fire.”
“Does it happen all the time?” Harry asked, interested in Mirabelle’s explanation.
“No.”
“Then when?”
Mirabelle stared out, directly forward, not making eye contact with Harry. Her words were barely audible.
“When I’m with you.”
Harry’s breath hitched in his throat, but as the words settled in, a smile began to grow on his face.
“That’s exactly how I feel when I’m with you.” He whispered back, scared of her reaction.
“What does it mean?” Mirabelle asked, tearing her gaze away from the distance, to Harry’s sparkling green eyes.
“It means that you might care or feel a way about someone that you wouldn’t feel with a normal friend. It means that you’d want to get to know them better, and see a side to someone that may lead to you being intrigued by them even more. In other words, it means you’re attracted to them in many aspects.”
“Is…is that how you feel about me?” Mirabelle asked, biting her lip.
Harry smirked. “Is that how you feel about me?”
“I asked you first.” Mirabelle laughed, a teasing smile on her plump lips.
“But I explained it.”
“But only because I asked you.”
“And I answered because you asked me.”
“So I have the right to know.”
“So do I!” Harry shot back, grinning like crazy.
“God damn, Harry,” Mirabelle giggled. “Just answer my question!”
“Fine.” Harry growled, crushing his lips against hers.
This caught Mirabelle completely off guard, and her first instinct was to push him away. She stared at Harry wide eyed, as he looked away embarrassed at the rejection he had received.
“Sorry,” she whispered almost seductively. “Just my reflexes kicking in.” She gulped down all her disagreeing emotions and threw her legs over Harry’s lap, wrapping her arms around Harry’s neck from the side to pull him back in.
The sudden forwardness in Mirabelle surprised Harry. But it didn’t matter, because it was sexy. The feeling of her soft, sweet lips against his was enough to make him fly over the clouds and never come back down. Her lips felt so right on his, and he knew by the way he felt her smile as they kissed, that she felt the same way. Before long, the kiss had deepened and Mirabelle was on Harry’s lap, straddling him. His hands roamed up and down her hand, and along her hips, while her fingers combed through his hair.
Harry and Mirabelle broke their kiss, panting hard. Their foreheads pressed against each other, Harry decided he would no longer keep the suggestion lingering in his mouth.
“Mirabelle, let me take you on a date.”
Notes
What do you think Mirabelle's gunna say?Geez duhhh. It's a no-brainer.
Or is it.....
Sorry I haven't updated in a while. I apoligize!
Yayyyy you updated!!!!!! And it was worth the wait!
1/29/14