Keeping Isabelle
Seven
“So, Isabelle, where are you from?” Niall stared at me intently. I looked at Harry, not knowing what to say. I didn't know. I didn't even know where I was now!
“She's from Plymouth, mate,” Harry said, covering for me. “Remember a few months back, when I visited Gemma in Plymouth? She was there.” Niall nodded.
“What made you come to England?”
“I was… erm, visiting on a holiday. I bumped into Harry a few days ago, and he, eh, insisted for me not to stay at a hotel.” Niall nodded again, sipping from his coffee cup.
“How old are you, Isabelle?”
“Nineteen,” I answered, my eyes flickering to Harry. He nodded subtly. Niall checked his watch.
“I'm sorry, I have to catch a flight back to Ireland. Terribly stormy out there, eh? Hopefully it doesn't get cancelled.” Niall stood, and so did Harry, and they both shook hands. Harry showed Niall the door.
When Harry got back, he looked terribly tired. "Would you like to watch a film, Isabelle?”
Harry'd fallen asleep halfway during the movie, luckily. I did not want him to see that I'd been crying over a silly romance story.
I shut the blinds and locked the front, back, and garage doors, like I'd seen Harry do every night. I came back to the parlour, where Harry laid fast asleep.
I saw that his hands were wrapped around his muscly arms. I grabbed a woolen blanket that lay on the couch I'd sat on and threw it over him. He immediately snuggled into it.
Harry was really good looking, I noticed. The chocolate brown, curly waves of hair that needed to be cut, his warm personality, his tanned complexion. The longness of his legs, making him so much taller than I.
“You're beautiful, Harry,” I whispered, kissing his cheek and going up to my room.
Notes
I'm Baaaaack!!
@not_any_maryjane
Haha, thanks.
12/12/14