Incidisti in Passum

It didn't feel like December, or even winter. With Harry's warm body pressed again mine every chill vanished. His big, strong arms were like blankets, wrapped comfortably around my frail waist. I could him inhale deeply, yawning, and stretch his body before tugging my body closer to his. My spine backed against his stern chest. I could feel his heart beat. It was slow and relaxed. His face was probably tangled in the curly mess that was my morning hair. His nose nuzzled closer into the twisted locks as he made his shameless attempts to intertwine our bodies. I tried to make no indication that I was awake. To preserve this fragile moment that I would never get if he was awake or alert. I kept my eyes fixated on the window in front of me. Snow fell on the city outside and all of it's inhabitants; like pieces of soft, white clouds falling down to Earth. They were delicate, like I was in his arms. For a second it felt like we were together. I almost didn't want him to wake up and leave my side.
I felt his body shuffle behind me as he left out a low yawn. He moved slightly, releasing me from his grip, and stretching his arms. I closed my eyes to pretend that I was still asleep. He bought it, but he still moved away from me. He had woken up and was ready to get on with the day. The first thing he did was check the time, muttering, "9:15" to himself in a tired voice. His heels slid against the floor as he shuffled his feet to the kitchen area. I heard him rustle through the fridge before turning on the stove. Quietly, he found the pans and plates scattered around the cupboards. The room was sudden filled with the sound of bacon frying, Harry whisking eggs together, and his whistling.

"Does she like eggs?" he asked himself, stopping his song, "No? Maybe?" he continued to question himself for a few moments.
"No, sorry," I quietly shouted from my place on the pull out bed.
"Good morning! You almost gave me a heart attack, Love," Harry spoke up as went back to cooking.
"Good morning, Sir," I said as I moved my body around so that I was resting on my knees. I crossed my arms under my chin and rested my head on the back edge of the sofa. Harry stood in the kitchen with three pans, each cooking a different thing, and a toaster that looked as if it were about to pop. He twisted the dialed on the stove down and then turned his attention to me.
"Happy Christmas Eve," he smiled cheerfully, "I figured a feast was in order,"
"You didn't have to go through the trouble," I said as I looked at the grocery bags and his matted hair, indicating he just woken up. He gave me that famous "Harry Styles half-smile" that hung perfectly on the corner of his lip. His fingers running through the tangled curls as he exhaled a soft chuckle.
"No trouble at all. I figured since we're away from family and our bands, we should make the most of the holiday," he turned back around to the food.
Harry's kindness shot through me and filled my body with a soft, warm, tingly feeling that I only felt when I was home. It was like running down stairs on Christmas, or Christmas Eve morning, and Dennis would be fixing breakfast for us and the boys. The feeling of having a family, maybe not biological, but it made me feel safe. I wrapped the hotel blanket around my body and watched as Harry cooked. I think he could feel my eyes gazing upon him because he'd look back every so often and smirk at me. Each time my cheeks would flush with a subtle hint of color before I buried my shyness in my arms. Harry detached himself from the kitchen area and strolled around the windows of his suite. He looked out each window, pulling the curtain so that it covered the view. When he reached the last glass screen, he glanced down and sighed before shielding the sight.
"Something wrong?" I asked with concern. His face appeared disgruntled and annoyed with his furrowed brow and tense lips.
"No," his face relaxed into a joyful expression, "Breakfast might take a minute if you want to go get ready,"
All I could do was nod and escorted myself to the bathroom, where I showered, listening to the bands that randomly played on my iPod. Placebo, Coldplay, Less Than Jake, and Brand New. It seemed that it knew what to play to fit my mood, even on shuffle. Other than Less Than Jake, the sound of the bands were soft and slow, with smooth lyrics. Maybe it was a sign that today would be a calming day, with minor snags, but mostly good feelings. As I washed away the pain of not being home, I hoped for the best as the new day arrived. I stepped out of the shower with my head up high. I wiped away the steam on the mirror and began brushing my teeth. The thoughts and expectations that ran through my head almost seemed like a fantasy. I was able to spend the day with Harry. A Christmas Eve with him. People would slaughter their own families to have this chance and it was simply handed to me. I couldn't help but smile to myself.

Harry knocked on the bathroom door to tell me breakfast was ready. I wrapped the long, white, hotel towel around my meager frame and tip toed out.
"Don't look," I cried modestly as I passed Harry who was setting the table. He playful shielded his eyes with one hand as he set two plates, two glasses, and the food down.
After the door to the bedroom closed, Harry shouted a cute, "is it okay to look now?" followed by a sweet laugh. I rolled my eyes and dug into my overnight bag to pull out an outfit for the day. It was snowing outside so I knew it would be cold, but I wasn't sure if we were even going outside. Perhaps we were staying indoors and watching more movies. Either way, I wanted to be comfy. I decided on a pale colored, collared sweater and a pair of black skinny jeans. I'd fix my hair later if we were going somewhere. For the time being, I just put on slippers, and brushed through it.
He had already started putting things on his plate by the time I exited the room. He had a mug of coffee, or tea, with a mug waiting for me in the seat across from me. The table was properly set. All that was missing was me. He had prepared toast, bacon, sausages, bagels, and then scrambled eggs for him. I felt spoiled, but I wasn't about to complain. I knew he was just kind.
I took my place across from Harry and smiled at him before putting a few things on my plate. Before an awkward silence could cloud over us, I forced a bit of small talk about the weather. I couldn't see anything due to the curtains, but I knew it was still snowing outside.

"Glad we're not out there," I said jokingly, and awkwardly.
"You don't like the snow?" Harry asked as he made a strange sandwich with his food.
"I just don't enjoy the cold. I like being warm or at least comfortable," I replied.
"I don't really mind it. It gives you the opportunity to cuddle with someone and get warm and cozy," he explained. Suddenly I felt my heart skip at the thought of us being close again. Last night he held me because I was scared, I doubt that would happen again.
"I usually just curl up in a blanket and hibernate in the winter,"
"That's no fun, though. You can make a snow man or do something," he protested my complaints.
"I suppose I'm more of a 'snuggle on the couch and drink hot chocolate by the fireplace' kind of girl," I gave him a weak smile.
"That can be fun too, if you're with the right person," he gave me grin that put mine to shame. I felt the wind exhale from my lungs as the image of us curled up on the couch together in a romantic way hit my chest. Thoughtthe thought left me partially breathless, I shouldn't shake the image from my head.
"So, any plans for today?" I asked with a rush voice to change the subject.
"Actually, I need to go into the city and pick up a few presents. It's kind of last minutes, but I ordered them in a few days ago and I don't want to wait until tomorrow," he explained.
"That's fine," I smiled pleasantly. I thought about my presents that were at home. I wrapped one for each of the boys in my band. I didn't get anything for Harry. It sort of slipped my mind. Suddenly I felt a sting of guilt as I poked my sausage links with my fork. He had cooked this amazing breakfast for us to enjoy and I had nothing to repay him with. I had a bit of money in my wallet for the trip, so I made a plan to sneak off while we were in the city and pick him up something.
After breakfast, we both finished getting ready, and prepared ourselves for the winter cold. I added a scarf and coat to my wardrobe, a long with a pair of converse (seeing as I didn't pack boots). (Sadie's outfit: polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=99815426). Harry wore a Mickey Mouse sweater, with black skinny jeans, and thick brown boots to walk through the snow. He threw a jacket on over the sweater, covering up the Disney mascot, and placed a beanie on his head to protect his drying hair. I had a feeling that he would be a lot warmer than I would. As we were about to leave his hotel suite, he looked down at me with a cautious face.

"Everything okay?" I asked with my hand on the doorknob.
He let a frustrated sigh before explaining his annoyance, "There's sort of a crowd outside. It happens a lot when people find out where I am," he said with a saddened tone, "They're just fans and I love them, but they can get kind of...grabby, I guess is the word. I'll hold your hand and try to get you to the taxi, but just mind yourself, please," he explained instantly taking my hand in his grasp. My chest rumbled at his touch. We made our way down to the lobby where we were greeted by security guards.
I've never had security guards to escort me out of a hotel. I've only needed them at shows. Just another thing that separated him from me. Soon we were surrounded by tall, heavy set men in black t-shirts and jackets, with earphones in their ears. They tried to keep the girls away from Harry. The noise was horrendous. They screamed and cried for him. I had to plug one ear in order to keep my focus on the yellow taxi only a few feet away. Harry casually smiled at the crowd and waved to them. He even tried to stop to give a few one armed hugs, handshakes, and receive a teddy bear from a fan. Though the guards tried pushing him away from the roaring fans, Harry was persistent to meet as many people as he could. The guards would try to pull him away, cut in front of him and a group, and other things because they found the crowd to be a distraction. Still, he wanted to make as many people as he could happy. It was nice, until a handful of people noticed us holding hands. I could hear their gasps and screams over the collective roar. A few clicks of a camera and a couple "Are you kidding me?!" later, we were in the taxi, on our way to whatever store Harry had to go to. I noticed another car trailing behind us, it carried a few guards.

"You're fine, right?" Harry asked inspecting more for any injuries.
"Perfectly fine, you?" I smiled as I moved an unwanted hair on his head.
"Nothing too bad. A few bruises," he shows a scratch on his arm from the nails of one fan, "I know they don't mean it," he kept his cheery composure.
"I think a few saw us holding hands," I warned him.
"Eh, rumors breathe and die," he ruffled my hair with his over sized hand before staring out the window of the cab.

Buildings passed us along with flocks of people and the snow. Everyone was bundled up
tightly with coats and scarves, carrying bags from various stores. It seemed as though many people were getting some last minute Christmas shopping down before the day was through. I suppose I was one of them. It didn't take long for our taxi to reach are destination. A jewelry store that was almost packed with people. Harry took my hand once again and led me inside. There was a rather large crowd, which scared me. I was afraid that people might notice Harry and freak out, but the majority of the crowd appeared older and more mature. We were safe for the time being. That didn't stop two security guards from waiting outside the store door.
The store appeared to be most women oriented jewelry. Beautiful necklaces with sparkling gems, gold and silver bracelets, earrings, and more sat in display cases scattered around. I couldn't find anything that Harry might have liked, or anything I could afford, so I decided to wonder off. I told him that I'd only be across the street. He said he's come after me when he was done. It have me little time to examine the stores around us and find a gift. I wanted to find something meaningful since I didn't know if we'd ever spend another Christmas together. Across the street from the jewelry store was a small shop. It seemed to sell things for local artists.
Inside it was dusty and cold. There wasn't much heating, I assumed the owners couldn't afford it for too long. Prints, paintings, drawing, and posters lined the walls of the small shop. Figurines, artwork, and other things were among their merchandise. It seemed like this was a store that sold things for other people. I found t-shirts with strange graphics, hoodies, hats, and other clothing items that you wouldn't find at retail stores. It was a fun place, but a shame that it wasn't well funded. I glanced around the area, trying not to take too much time so I didn't keep Harry waiting. I tried to think of something he would like, but like the jewelry store, this store had mostly feminine attire. After moving around the shop, I found a self of unmarked books. At first I thought they were stories, written by unknown authors, but after taking a few off the shelf, I found out they were journals and diaries. Harry's a musician and I know he likes to write, so, with only a few minutes to make a decision, I grabbed a think, wooden covered journal (storenvy.com/products/133912-letterpressed-paulownia-wooden-...). It was kind of pricey for a journal, but I figured he would like it and that was good enough for me. The cashier gave a decorative Christmas bag with fancy paper inside so I wouldn't have to wrap anything. We parted with kind smiles before I exited the tiny shop.
Across the street, Harry was waiting for me with a small black bag in his hand. He was mingling with the security guards as he waited. I dashed across the street so I didn't strain his patience. He greeted me with a smile and asked what was in the bag. I lied and said it was something for Connor because I forgot to get him a present. Harry shrugged his shoulders and we went back to the hotel. The crowd has dispersed since we left, leaving only a few stranglers with plenty of patience. Harry didn't feel the need to hold my hand since there wasn't a raging crowd. Instead, he met with the eight fans that waited. They took pictures, gave hugs, and chatted for a bit before we pulled into the hotel by security. Before the doors closed, I could hear a girl shout, "Your girlfriend's pretty," causing me to laugh.

Harry put his presents in his room and I stuffed mine in my overnight bag. The rest of our day was spent lounging around the suite, snacking, and watching TV. We barely talked unless we were cracking little jokes, but most of our conversations were nothing very important. We were just being our usual selves. I laid on the couch and flipped through channels while he danced around the room to music. I never noticed how often Harry tweets and makes pointless Vines, but he at least does it every hour. It was fun to watch him take random selfies and pose. He was a very fun person. Everything he said was funny and he just did things that made me laugh. Every so often he would sit on the couch with me. Sometimes he would place his hand on my leg and rub my calf. The soft touch sent my body into a flurry of feelings. I thought about telling him how I felt, but I knew now wasn't the right now. I thought to wait until he gave me an indication of how he felt.

"Thank you for breakfast," I spoke up trying to force conversation. Harry was sitting on the other side of the couch, one hand on my calf, and his phone in the other. He looked over at me and smirked.
"No problem at all," he said before returning to the screen. It didn't look like he was typing, but just scrolling through. He furrowed his brow again. His face tightened as if he were uncomfortable. He constantly shifted his body, bit bottom lip, and squinted his eyes.
I held my breath as I thought of my next question carefully. "Are you okay?" I spoke with a mousy voice.
"Yeah," he shot at me quickly, turning off his phone, "just some drama,"
"What happened?"
"Stupid stuff. It's fine," he gave me a quick, false smile. All of his smiles and smirks appeared genuine until that last one. I could tell something was wrong.
I sat up and crossed my legs. I rested my hand on his. This was an impulsive move to me, but I didn't want him to be upset. "You can talk to me you know," I said, making sure my eyes met his. I almost forgot how green his eyes were, maybe because they always looked more brown. Eyes tend to change color depending on mood.
He gave me a weak smile as his eyes slightly sparkled. It took him a few seconds to muster up the right words to explain the situation. "It's just some Twitter drama," he said, it was only half of an answer.
"Go on," I persisted.
"A few people saw us holding hands and they took it the wrong way," he turned his phone back on and showed me the picture on Twitter. It had only been an hour or two since it was taken, but it had already surfaced around five gossip sites, along with fans exploding on Harry's profile. I expected Harry to be one of the few people who could handle people's judgments, but the things people were saying were pretty bad, though they weren't directed towards Harry. Most of their harsh words were aimed at me. I'm not sure how many said it, but a lot of people were saying that I wasn't pretty enough for Harry. The shippers were in a frenzy, saying we were a fake couple, though we weren't a couple at all. I can take criticism, so I disregarded their comments. Once Harry announced that we weren't dating, I assumed things would die down.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart," I looked up at Harry with concerned eyes.
"Why do you always apologize when you don't do anything wrong?" he smirked at me, a sincere smile. He threw his phone aside.
"I just do. Aren't you going to say something to them though?" I asked.
"Nah, they can fight it out. It's Christmas," he said as he clasped my hands in his. He gave me a look of kindness that I remembered from this morning, "The best thing to do is ignore it,"
"That's true," I used my free hand and ruffled his curly brown hair. Suddenly Harry moved forward and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into a tight hug. I returned it by wrapping my arms around his waist and resting my head on his shoulder. This was something to make me feel better. If there's one thing I've learned about Harry is that he's prone to guilt. Out there in Cyberspace, people were bashing me for something silly. Harry felt responsible and this was the only way he knew how to make it up to me, by making me feel better.
"I'll make hot chocolate and we can watch a few movies," I suggested, pulling away from our embrace. I didn't want, but I knew it would make him feel better.
"I bought the tiny marshmallows as well, if you want to use them instead of whipped cream,"
"Is that what you want?" I asked.
"Yes, please, with some cinnamon on top. Just a sprinkle," he asked in a kiddish way. I could hear him humming a song to himself as I prepped the kettle. I rolled my eyes and smiled. Sitting on the pull out couch, he wrapped himself up in a blanket, clicked on the T.V., and began watching some cartoons. It was kind of nice, perhaps even ideal. Everything was calm and peaceful. The hoard
of photographers and fans lined up outside were shut out by the curtains. I knew they were out there, itching for a glimpse of who lies beyond the walls of Harry's suite. What could we possibly be doing? I wondered how disappointed the reporters to see that there was just a nineteen year old boy watching cartoons, as his friend girl made hot chocolate.
The kettle began to steam. Before it let out it's obnoxious squeal, I took it off the burner. I empty two packets of cocoa powder into two Hilton mugs and poured in the milk. I added in the marshmallows as I stirred everything together. Behind me I could hear Harry humming along to the theme song of the cartoon. It was cute, how childish he could be. He wasn't immature, but innocent. I smiled once again, sprinkling in his dash of a cinnamon. I walked the mugs over to our spots on the couch, being careful not to burn myself. Harry was wrapped up tight in his blanket, eyes glued to the screen, until I crossed his path. His eyes lit up with a youthful joy. I thought he might snatch the cup right out of my hands, like a young boy would do, but he opened his arms, and allowed me a spot next to him on the couch. I took it, handing him his cup. He wrapped the blanket around me, pushing us even closer together. Our legs touched, which was enough to give me chills. We were now sharing a small, wool blanket, sipping hot chocolate, and watching some dumb cartoon made for eight year olds. It surprised me how much enjoyment Harry got out of these tiny moments. Sometimes I felt like little, seemingly meaningless moments meant more to him than I could guess. This man had seen millions of faces starring back at him in sold out stadiums, singing his songs, ravishing him in praise. Yet spending Christmas Eve next to a friend, drinking hot coco, and watching T.V. put a permanent smile on his face.
We sat together in silence as Adventure Time played on for a half hour. I sat in a nervous, anxious bubble. My arms laid tightly at my sides, the rim of the white mug close to my lips, as I blew the steam away from my face. The marshmallows had melted into a thick white foam over the chocolate. I tried taking a sip, but each time, I'd burn my tender lips. I tried not to make a scene about it, but each time I'd wince in a bit of pain. And each time, Harry would glance over at me. I pretended to be fine, my lips began to get sore from the attempts until I finally set my mug down and ignored it. He leaned over and gazed at my burnt lips, awing as he did.
"Did you get hurt?" asked Harry with his casual half smile.
"I'll be okay," I shied away from his eyes, but he touched my bottom lip with the tip of his thumb. It could've been how sore it was from the boiling hot chocolate, but I felt more sensitive to his touch.
"Your lips are really red, darling," he stroked the rim of my bottom lip tenderly.
"They're always red," I tried to shake off the shivers that ran down my spine. He caressed my lip sweetly with his thumb as a pondering look appeared on his face.
"Do you want some ice to soothe them?" he asked.
"No, no, sweetheart, I'll be okay," I gave him a weak, quiver of a smile.
"Do I need to kiss them better?" he chuckled. Suddenly I lost every word I'd ever learned. I forgot how to exhale. My lungs trapped in any air I had taken in. I felt my face flush red at the thought of his lips soothing mine. "I'm kidding," he slowly pulled away from me.
"I'm sorry," I quickly regain my composure, exhaling harshly. My eyes darted around the room, looking for something else to catch my attention. Harry drank his hot chocolate down casually, relaxing, as the cartoon continued on. Desperate for something to relax my own nerves, I picked up my mug, and tried to take a sip. Once again, I singed my lip on the hot liquid. This time I let out a whimper, clasping my hand over my mouth.
"Sadie," Harry turned his attention to me once again. He set his mug down, brought his face close to mine, and examined my sore lip. "Did you hurt yourself again?" he asked, like a concern parent to a clumsy child.
"I'm sorry," I whimpered as he thumb grazed my bottom lip once again. My body quivered under his touch.
"Don't apologize to me, apologize to yourself. You have to be careful, love, or you'll damage your pretty lips," he gave me a reserved smile as his cool touch quailed my burning skin.
"You don't have to worry about me," I must've told him that a hundred times since the accident.
"I always worry about you. You're clumsy," he pulled his face away from mine, looking into my eyes. His rough hands still rested upon my soft face.
"I've survived this long," I stumbled on my words, trying to overcome my rumbling emotions. His eyes were so beautiful and intimidating. They shined brightly, piercing through my pathetic blues like Cupid's arrow. My heart bounced out of my cheat, just under his glare alone. I could only imagine what would happen to me if he actually kissed me. But all he did was stare coaxingly, stroking my lip with his thumb.
"I'm surprised, honestly. You hardly walk two feet without hitting a table, or a couch," he joked.
"I also bump into doorknobs," I tried to match his playful tone, but I remain nervous.
"You're short enough," his lips hung carelessly on the corner of his mouth, just below his delicate dimples.
I shoved him in a playful manner, "Don't make fun of my height," not expecting him to shove me back.
"But you're a shorty,"
"You're just tall," I fought back with a cheerful giggle.
"I'm average, you little munchkin," suddenly his hands dove for my waist. My body began to twitch and turn under his dancing fingers. He tickled me mercilessly, knowing very well it was my childish weakness.
"No! Harry! No!" I cried between gasps of breath and fits of laughter. I fell onto my back, pulling my knees to my chest, hoping it would help my cause. But Harry was much bigger than I. His body towered over my small frame, caressing my sides with his fingers. "Please! Stop!" I shrieked. My voice became high and shrill under his spell. My arms flailed around in a effortless fight. "Please!" I continued on until finally Harry gave up. He sat up, resting his body on his knees while I laid on my back. My body relaxed. I gasped for breath as my forced laughter faded. Then I noticed the position we were in. Harry's body was almost between my legs. The blanket draped carefully on his back, shielding us both. He looked down at me with his big hazel eyes and chuckled to himself.
"We always end up here," he commented.
"Seems like it," I replied, recalling the brief moment in my hotel room. Once again, I was tense and nervous. My puny body couldn't handle the strength of his gaze, or the look on his face. That modest smile that stretched across his face. It made me weak and dizzy.
"How does your lip feel?" Harry asked, removing his body from the awkward position, and taking his spot on the couch. I followed his lead, taking my cup off the table.
"Fine, I think it's cool enough to drink without any injury," I began to sip on my chocolate to cover my nervous fidgeting. The cup was colder now, so was the liquid inside of it. It was relieving to feel the cool, smooth drink drape over my sore mouth, quailing whatever burn it caused. But still, inside my chest there roared an unsound heart.

Harry and I watched T.V. for a few hours, joking about what we watched (mostly cartoons). Every so often we clicked through channels in between commercials. We were both extremely impatient when it came to them. We finished our hot coco and decided to snack on mini-marshmallows until the bag was almost gone. We'd toss them into the other's mouth like a game; I think Harry purposing aimed them down my shirt at one point. I got my revenge by tossing them down his sweater. After the fourth or fifth one he cried out, "You're wasting the mallows!" and went on to stuff them all in his mouth. Before we knew it, it was dark out. The crowd outside had left, not that we really knew they were there in the first place. It seemed that Harry had forgotten all about the twitter drama from the early parts of the day. I'll admit, I forgot about it for a while there, but it crept back into my mind. I made sure not to mention it and spoil all of our fun. But it was dark now. The room was dark, other than the light of the television. It didn't bother Harry, and strangely enough, it didn't bother me. I didn't really notice the darkness anymore. I didn't feel alone anymore, not with him, obviously.
The clock below the television set kept catching Harry's attention. Every so often he's glance at it, as if he was waiting for something. As the hours crept to the late hours of the night, he got more excited, like a kid waiting for Christmas. To be honest, I forgot it was Christmas. I know, I've been talking about it a lot, but at that moment, time seemed to blur. We had no tree in the hotel suite, no decorations. The only indication that it was December was the snow outside, but it could've been any day in winter. The present I bought for Harry earlier in the day sat in my bag. I wasn't sure of the right time to give it to him. I didn't want to wait until morning because we'd be rushing to pack our things. I let the thought scurry to the back of my mind.
Harry picked up the T.V. remote and began surfing through the on demand channels, looking for a movie to watch. Everything was Christmas themed, from the adaptations of a "Christmas Carol", to the traditional "A Christmas Story" marathon than ran on about twenty different channels, and other holiday movies like "Elf". It seemed like Harry wasn't in a Christmas mood, passing through them all, and looking for something else. We've seen all those movies before, so it was understandable. After so many years of the same movies, they get dated. Even one of my favorite movies, "The Nightmare Before Christmas", was undesirable. They were all cliché to watch on Christmas Eve.
"There's nothing on," Harry complained, sinking into the couch that we had been on all day.
"Well, we could always order a movie," I suggested. I took the remote from Harry carefully and surfed through the movies that they had to offer. "Can I pick something scary?" I asked, glancing over the horror movie section.
"As long as it's actually scary,"
I hit Insidious, one of my favorite new aged horror movies, and decided on it. Harry shrugged his shoulders, admitting that he had never seen it. "It's kind of scary," I warned him.
"If I get scared, you can hold me," he nudged me slightly as the room filled with more darkness, as the movie began to play. The title screen screeched with the familiar, harshly played violin music. Harry covered his ears until it ended. "What's this about?"
"Ghosts and junk. There are a lot of jump scares," I replied, getting comfortable in my seat. That's what our Christmas Eve consisted of, laying on the couch, and talking.

Notes