Isabelle's P.O.V

I rolled around on my bed, unable to find a comfortable position. Sighing, I sat up and reminisced the events that had only occurred a few hours ago. Harry had kissed me. And this time, I remembered it. I could still feel his lips on mine. They were soft and gentle, but had a sort of hunger to them. I couldn’t describe it.

I remembered the feeling. It felt as if a fire had been struck up in my throat, and raced down every other part of my body. My blood no longer flowed in my veins; it had been replaced by pure adrenaline. I probably would have just stood there for eternity, kissing him, but the clock—dammit—had interrupted us.

Kate had come back home only to find us cuddled up, watching one of those cheesy Christmas movies that they always play around this time of year. Harry had stood to leave, but Kate insisted that he sleep in our guest bedroom, which was just upstairs and across the hall from my room. She shot me an elated grin as Harry turned his back and began climbing upstairs, and I beamed back at her. And then, of course, I'd gotten up for a drink and it had ended with Harry almost screwing me. But I'd stopped him.

Now, I just couldn’t seem to fall asleep. My eyelids would droop, and I would doze off for a few minutes at a time, only to snap awake and continue to toss and turn. Groaning, I realised what my problem was. I quickly slipped on a pair of slippers and stood up. Before exiting my room, I checked my reflection in the mirror and raked my fingers through my hair. Then I quietly opened my door and peeked out into the hallway.

Careful not to step on any squeaky floorboards, I tiptoed across the hall and peeked through a crack in the open door, into Harry’s room. When I saw him lying on the bed, I pushed the door open slightly. “Harry? Can I come in?” I expected him to be sleeping, but surprisingly, I heard, “Yeah.”

I opened the door all the way and stepped in, closing it silently behind me. Harry was lying on his back, gazing up at the ceiling, his hands folded on his abdomen. Did I mention he was shirtless again? Colour immediately rushed to my face, and I was glad that the room was dark. Harry looked up at me. “C’mere,” he said, sounding sluggish. Maybe I had woken him up.

Tentatively I padded over to his bed, where I sat at the edge, leaning my back against the mattress, my back to him. “Can’t sleep?” he asked, and I nodded, immediately feeling stupid. I didn’t think this out. I was dressed in a tank top and the shortest shorts I owned, the ones that I would never wear out in public, only to bed, where no one would ever see me. Really damn smart, I told myself.

I hadn’t thought about what I was going to say either. I was just kind of expecting to be able to slide into bed beside Harry and have him wrap his arms around me.

“What’s up?” Harry asked, jarring me out of my thoughts. I shrugged, “Like you said: I can’t sleep.” There was some shuffling behind me, and the squeak of a bedframe, and soon, Harry was sliding into a sitting position beside me. I stared over at him, feeling a little surprised, but then again, you could never tell with Harry. He smiled half-heartedly at me, and I couldn’t help but to scold myself again for not thinking things through and just barging in here and creating all of this tension.

“Why can’t you sleep?” Harry asked, his deep voice whispering, making it sound hoarse. I shrugged, “I just couldn’t, knowing that I didn’t apologise.” Harry shifted a bit closer to me, and I stared at the wall in front of me as he asked, “Apologise for what?”

“For being a bitch,” I sighed, “For saying that I never wanted to see you again, and for saying that I hated you. Because I don’t,” I looked up at him, trying to seem as sincere as possible, because I was, “And I’m really sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” he murmured, moving even closer to me. I shook my head, “You’re wrong. I said all of those mean things. Plus, I was the one lying. I don’t hate you. I feel like a hypocrite, and I’m sorry.” As I finished, I looked over at Harry, only to find that he was smirking at me. “What?” I asked.

He shook his head, “Nothing…just hold still.” I stiffened, “Okay, but what are you going to do?”

“Shh,” he whispered soothingly, “Just hold still.” I obeyed him, and he cupped my chin with his thumb and his forefinger. I wanted to ask him what was going on, but then, ever so gently, he brought my face to meet his and kissed me softly. My breath caught in my throat as his lips touched mine.

The kiss was gentle and innocent, and I loved it. Harry’s lips were soft and slightly moist, and his thumb stroked my jawline with absolutely no force. I put my hand down to steady myself, and then I realised where it had ended up: on his hip.

Why are you scared? A voice in my head asked. This is Harry. Just regular Harry. Don’t be afraid. That voice, I realised, was right.

Why should I be afraid of Harry? I’d kissed him so many times before, even though I didn’t even remember the first time. Shouldn’t I have gotten used to it by now?

Building up my courage, I moved, swinging my leg over Harry and straddling his hips. He pulled back, staring at me for a moment with wide eyes, and I was afraid that he would suddenly become repulsed or disgusted, but then he smiled tenderly at me again and leaned in for another kiss. His hands slid down to my hips, where he let only the tips of his fingers touch. I grabbed onto his shoulders so that he couldn’t see just how much my hands were shaking.

“Are you mad at me?” I whispered, pulling back so that our lips brushed together when I spoke. He shook his head, “I like you. And until you do something way worse than that, I’m not going to like anyone else but you.” I nodded, reassured, but then another thought came to me. “Harry, did I wake you?”

He smirked at me, a smirk that had begun as annoying but had soon turned out to be endearing. “No,” he muttered, “I couldn’t sleep either.” I grinned at him and traced my finger along the chiseled features of his face. His eyes crinkled at the edges as he smiled, and my heart began to beat just a little bit faster. I yawned.

“I think you’re finally getting tired,” Harry noted quietly, smiling at me. The edges of my mouth turned slightly upwards. “I guess I am.” I climbed off of him and watched as he stood up. Then I turned to leave, but he caught my wrist and I turned back around.

“Whoa,” he said, “Where’re you going?”

As he spoke, he tugged me along with him and he sat on the bed. Suddenly picking up on what he was implying, I felt blood rush to my face, and I blushed beet red. “Harry, I…” I guess I must’ve looked uncomfortable, because he just grinned, “Come on, just for the night. I promise.”

I chewed on my lip, not wanting to admit that I’d never slept in a boy’s bed before, not even for just sleeping. Harry grabbed my other hand and lowered me down onto the bed with him, and I slid under the covers tentatively. He grinned mischievously at me as I rolled over to face him, and I made a quiet exasperated sound,

“No, we are not going to have sex.”

“There goes my Saturday.”

I giggled and slapped my hand over my mouth, suddenly afraid that Kate would burst in with a shotgun. Harry just smirked at me and ran a hand through his unruly hair, while I internally swooned. He had no idea how much I actually liked him.

“So,” I began quietly, “When did you first realise you liked me?” he thought about it for a moment and then said, “I think it was when I invited you to the banquet. Over the week, I-I’d…” he trailed off, and I smirked, realising that he wasn’t comfortable with this topic. I held up my hands, “Hey, hey, okay. I get it. You’re not entirely comfortable with pillow talk.”

He scoffed, “Please.” I chuckled lightly, and said, “Well isn’t this what we’re doing? Pillow talk?”

“I always thought pillow talk was after a very…passionate evening, if you get my drift.”

“Yeah, I get it. And may I just say: it’s a very dirty drift.”

Harry groaned and put his face in his hands as I grinned victoriously at him. I couldn’t help but to notice all of the ink that littered his body. Sparrows, a pirate ship, a heart. Usually, I found tattoos disgusting, but on Harry…they just seemed to work. Stupid, right?

We fell asleep with our arms wrapped around each other.

***

“Isabelle! Harry! I know you’re in there! I don’t care whether you’re sleeping or doing unspeakable things to each other, but I want you downstairs in five!” Kate pounded at the door a few more times before I heard her footsteps recede down the hall and bound downstairs. I rubbed my eyes and groaned.
The first thing I saw when my eyelids fluttered open was another pair of eyes, sparkling green, staring straight at me. I yawned and Harry smirked. Suddenly he turned serious, and began mumbling, “Shit, shit, shit.” He rolled off of the bed and I sat upright, asking,

“Harry, what’s wrong?”

He pulled on a shirt and leaned back down on the bed, looking at me. “I forgot to tell you, since you weren’t speaking to me and all. I forgot to tell you last night too.” As soon as he mentioned last night, my body heated up, and I was pretty sure blush began to
form on my cheeks. I tried to stay cool, “What?”

“We’re,” he looked sheepish, “Going to see my mum and my sister today, back in Holmes Chapel.”

“What?” I almost shrieked, and then I lowered my voice, “What?” I repeated, “You can’t just spring this on me today! I have no time to pack!”

“We’re only going for three days,” Harry rolled his eyes at my exasperation, and I threw my hands up, “Who cares? I’m not packed, I’m not prepared, and I’ve never even heard about your mom or your sister!”

“Well,” Harry said, “We were going to go anyways, since you had to pretend to be my girlfriend and all, but I guess since we’re dating for real, it shouldn’t be a problem.” I was about to go on about how I wasn’t ready and that I’d have to pack very last minute when I froze. Slowly a teasing smirk spread across my face, “Did you just say we were dating for real?” I asked mockingly.

“Um,” Harry looked confused, “Yeah, why?” I shook my head, trying to ignore the fact that my heart had just done an aerial. “No reason. I’m just saying: I didn’t agree to that.”

“Oh,” Harry suddenly became nervous, “Well, then—I mean…” Honestly, it was quite funny. I’d never seen Harry look nervous before. Usually, he was the one who was calm and collected, who looked like he had everything sorted out and he enjoyed watching me stutter. But now, the situations were reversed, and I understood why he liked to see me get all flustered. It was cute.

I laughed, “Harry, calm down. Are you,” I paused, “Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?” Harry thought about it, “Well, see, I’m not really good at this sort of stuff, so just tell me where you’re at.” In response, I simply leaned forward and planted a simple peck on his cheek. When I pulled back, I saw that he was smiling.

“Well,” I said, trying to make it sound like I was reluctant, “It would be much easier to play off the act if I literally got into my character, don’t you think?” Harry grinned widely and I scrambled off the bed, “Now leave me be! I need to pack three days’ worth of clothes, makeup, and feminine hygiene products!”

Notes

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