I Thought You'd Care
Chapter 38: Rom/Com Part 1
Chapter 38: Rom/Com Part 1
July 11, 20 days until tour
His finger traced down my jawline, forcing a shiver down my spine. He chuckled slightly at my movement, the corners of his mouth turning up, those goddamn dimples appearing as he flicked his curls slightly out of his face and slowly brought his finger back down to his side. With me sitting on the counter and him standing up, we were almost eye-to-eye, his green orbs floating just inches in front of mine. “So what are we going to do until the rest of the lads get back?” He whispered, moving his face so his lips were almost grazing my ear.
My breathing hitched in my throat, and I did my best to maintain a calm look (which was proving quite difficult with Harry torturing me like this). “There’s probably a movie or something on telly.” I gulped.
He returned to his original position and smirked slightly. “Oh, but that’s no fun.”
Keep calm. I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I don’t know, movies are pretty fun.”
He stared at me for a moment more before a slight laugh escaped his throat and he leaned in, connecting our lips for a fraction of a second before pulling away, leaving a ghost of his taste on my mouth and me feeling empty inside. His hands appeared on my thighs, rubbing slow circles on the fabric of my sweatpants. “I could think of other things that are a bit more fun.”
“And, um, what are they?” I stammered, attempting, yet again, to lose the deer-in-the-headlights look, and most likely failing horribly. I could tell that Harry enjoyed this, having this power over me, but I still couldn’t tell what his motive was. He had been the one to tell me to stop fucking around with him and Niall, and now here he was, seducing me in the kitchen of his apartment.
“You tell me.” I got distracted by the feel of his breath on my lips and snapped back to reality when his low, scruffy voice sounded. I couldn’t help myself from flicking my gaze to his lips for a moment and he smirked yet again.
“But, uh, you were the one that said you could think of other things. I just wanted to watch a movie. So you tell me.” I inwardly high-fived myself for saying something coherent that could be construed as flirting, if you ignore my stutter at the beginning. He smiled, and his tongue darted out and wet his lips ever so slightly. His hands inched further up my thighs, and he shuffled his feet a bit closer so that there was no more than ten centimeters between us.
“Kiss me.” And so I did. I leaned forward and connected our lips, moving mine in sync with his, pulling away before either of us added tongue or got otherwise carried away.
“There you go.” I said, awkwardly, before hopping off the counter and pushing past him, running into my room and slamming the door, leaving my bowl of cereal forgotten in the kitchen. I stared at myself in the mirror on the wall, taking in my appearance. Dark blue sweatpants, white comic book t-shirt, blond hair pulled into a messy bun. No makeup, nothing special. I had been sitting on the counter scrolling through my twitter feed, seeing the usual stuff about Niall (which had, for the most part, died down, as we hadn’t been seen together in a while), when Harry had walked up and started our little tango. I stood there, hyperventilating, for a solid two minutes, before finally calming down and throwing myself back on the bed, rubbing my temples and releasing a loud sigh. I didn’t want to fuck around with Niall or Harry until I was clear exactly what I wanted, but both were making it exceedingly difficult. After another three or four minutes I heard a knock on my door, but before I was able to give my reply, the door opened, and Harry leaned against the frame. “Hey.”
I looked over at him. “Hey.”
“How about that movie?”
I smiled, after a moment. “Yeah, okay.” I stood up and padded back into the kitchen, where I grabbed my cereal and went back into the living room, where Harry was stretched out on one of the couches, turning on a rom/com.
I groaned as I sat cross legged on the couch, a few inches away from his feet. “Not another one of these.”
He looked at me and faked a glare. I noticed a slight blush rise on his cheeks. “Don’t make fun of them. They’re cute.”
I stifled my laugh. “Cute, alright. Cute.”
July 11, 20 days until tour
His finger traced down my jawline, forcing a shiver down my spine. He chuckled slightly at my movement, the corners of his mouth turning up, those goddamn dimples appearing as he flicked his curls slightly out of his face and slowly brought his finger back down to his side. With me sitting on the counter and him standing up, we were almost eye-to-eye, his green orbs floating just inches in front of mine. “So what are we going to do until the rest of the lads get back?” He whispered, moving his face so his lips were almost grazing my ear.
My breathing hitched in my throat, and I did my best to maintain a calm look (which was proving quite difficult with Harry torturing me like this). “There’s probably a movie or something on telly.” I gulped.
He returned to his original position and smirked slightly. “Oh, but that’s no fun.”
Keep calm. I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I don’t know, movies are pretty fun.”
He stared at me for a moment more before a slight laugh escaped his throat and he leaned in, connecting our lips for a fraction of a second before pulling away, leaving a ghost of his taste on my mouth and me feeling empty inside. His hands appeared on my thighs, rubbing slow circles on the fabric of my sweatpants. “I could think of other things that are a bit more fun.”
“And, um, what are they?” I stammered, attempting, yet again, to lose the deer-in-the-headlights look, and most likely failing horribly. I could tell that Harry enjoyed this, having this power over me, but I still couldn’t tell what his motive was. He had been the one to tell me to stop fucking around with him and Niall, and now here he was, seducing me in the kitchen of his apartment.
“You tell me.” I got distracted by the feel of his breath on my lips and snapped back to reality when his low, scruffy voice sounded. I couldn’t help myself from flicking my gaze to his lips for a moment and he smirked yet again.
“But, uh, you were the one that said you could think of other things. I just wanted to watch a movie. So you tell me.” I inwardly high-fived myself for saying something coherent that could be construed as flirting, if you ignore my stutter at the beginning. He smiled, and his tongue darted out and wet his lips ever so slightly. His hands inched further up my thighs, and he shuffled his feet a bit closer so that there was no more than ten centimeters between us.
“Kiss me.” And so I did. I leaned forward and connected our lips, moving mine in sync with his, pulling away before either of us added tongue or got otherwise carried away.
“There you go.” I said, awkwardly, before hopping off the counter and pushing past him, running into my room and slamming the door, leaving my bowl of cereal forgotten in the kitchen. I stared at myself in the mirror on the wall, taking in my appearance. Dark blue sweatpants, white comic book t-shirt, blond hair pulled into a messy bun. No makeup, nothing special. I had been sitting on the counter scrolling through my twitter feed, seeing the usual stuff about Niall (which had, for the most part, died down, as we hadn’t been seen together in a while), when Harry had walked up and started our little tango. I stood there, hyperventilating, for a solid two minutes, before finally calming down and throwing myself back on the bed, rubbing my temples and releasing a loud sigh. I didn’t want to fuck around with Niall or Harry until I was clear exactly what I wanted, but both were making it exceedingly difficult. After another three or four minutes I heard a knock on my door, but before I was able to give my reply, the door opened, and Harry leaned against the frame. “Hey.”
I looked over at him. “Hey.”
“How about that movie?”
I smiled, after a moment. “Yeah, okay.” I stood up and padded back into the kitchen, where I grabbed my cereal and went back into the living room, where Harry was stretched out on one of the couches, turning on a rom/com.
I groaned as I sat cross legged on the couch, a few inches away from his feet. “Not another one of these.”
He looked at me and faked a glare. I noticed a slight blush rise on his cheeks. “Don’t make fun of them. They’re cute.”
I stifled my laugh. “Cute, alright. Cute.”
8/19/13