Flat 51

~Emily

I woke up wrapped in his arms. The heat of his chest against my back perfected the moment as I listened to the sound of his deep, sleepy breathing. Who knew that the big, bad, grumpy old troll could be so cute and cuddly? I liked him like this. He wasn't trying to act tough, or hide behind his grumpy face. I shifted a little, moving my back further into his chest, but the second I moved his grip tightened around me. I wondered at this... He was protective even in his sleep. He'd been so adamant on picking me up from work, he'd done everything for me while I was stuck in bed from my ankle, and he'd invited me of all people to go with him to Paris!

He said he cared about me. Maybe it was true.

I reached for my phone to check the time. We'd slept all day... it was almost 6 P.M. I thought back to when his warm hands were sliding up my thighs, and his lips were sending chills down my spine and straight to my core. I loved the way he'd touched me. Every inch of skin was burning, but then I panicked. I didn't get it. I still don't. Men had always used and abused me for their own pleasure. He touched me as if it brought him pleasure just to touch me.

My body was suddenly too warm to be in bed, so I managed to slip from his grasp and climb out, heading for my bathroom. I grabbed a pair of daisy dukes from my suitcase, and a cute red t-shirt. I took one more lingering glance over the boy on my bed before disappearing through the door. He was simply beautiful. He was shirtless, and beneath the duvet I knew he was still wearing his black jeans from earlier. Unable to stand it any longer, I turned and shut the bathroom door.

I pulled out my hair drier after changing, but decided to forgo the make-up since it was already so late. I plugged my earphones into my phone and chose my custom country playlist, smiling as Dirt Road Anthem by my man BG and Colt Ford blasted into my head. The heat from the hair drier was oddly soothing, as moments ago I'd practically been sweating.

"Memory lane up in the headlights, got me reminiscing on them good times." I sang, rolling the round brush through my bangs. Here it comes. Here we go, I thought, prepping myself for the rap. I stopped blow-drying and held the round brush like a microphone, and then I rapped the hell out of that song.

"Back in the day Potts farm was the place to go, load the truck up, hit the dirt road. Jump the barbed wire, spread the word, light the bonfire and call the girls. The King and the can and the Marlboro man, Jack and Jim were a few good men. Where you learned how to kiss, and cuss, and fight too, you better watch out for the boys in blue. All this small town he said, she said, ain't it funny how rumors spread? Like I know something y'all don't know, man that shit is getting old. You better mind your business, man, watch your mouth, before I have to knock your loud ass out. I'm tired of talking, y'all ain't listening, them old dirt roads is what you're missing." The chorus rang through the bathroom as someone began to clap, the door creaking open. Harry was stood in the doorway, a silly grin plastered on his face. Shit...

"That was something else, Emily. I didn't know you could rap," he laughed, coming up behind me. I pulled out my earphones and set my phone on the counter.

"I can't rap. It took me about a month to be able to get that right,. Also, it's not very nice to eavesdrop!" I giggled, finishing the blow-drying process. There wasn't much water left in my hair, since we'd slept, but it had still been a little damp.

"Well you did a damn good job," he said, wrapping his arms around me. I easily relaxed into his hold, leaning my head against his bare chest. "You're beautiful," he mumbled, inhaling the scent of my hair.

"Gee, thanks. You're not bad looking yourself, tall dark and curly," I joked. His deep laugh rumbled through my back, widening my smile.

"We should go downstairs. I think Lou's got somebody over."

"Oh, shit... awkward." He rubbed my hips affectionately and planted a kiss on my cheek before heading back to put his shirt on. What was that? How did we just jump from roommates to... whatever we were now? "Harry?" I asked a few minutes later. I'd decided on some very light make-up, given that there'd be other people down there.

"Yeah?" he asked, turning to me. He held my favorite book in his hand, an uncut copy of Morgenstern's The Princess Bride. I brought it with me everywhere I went.

"What... What did we just do?" He frowned, as if considering the same thing. "We were just supposed to be roommates, Harry. Not this. What is this? What are we doing?"

"Emily, you need to stop. We're just trying this out. If it doesn't work, then it doesn't work. But you need to trust me that I won't hurt you like all those other men."

"Don't patronize me like that!" I exclaimed, hushing my tone. "What are we 'trying out'? I don't want to do this if I'm just going to be your fuck buddy, Harry. That's not how this works."

"Yes it is. We try this for a while, and see what happens from there. What the hell did you expect?!"

"Don't you shout at me!" I cried, placing my hands on my hips. "I feel something for you, and if you don't feel the same way, then get out of my room! I'm not going to let you use me!"

"I won't use you! I could use somebody to at least pretend to care for me right now, so could you manage that for a while?!" his face grew red, and suddenly wanted to slap him. "You're being dramatic, Emily." Oh really? I stalked up to him, snatched my book, and slammed it painfully hard across his face. The force turned his head, and he left it like that for a minute, stunned and enraged. Suddenly he ripped the book from my and forcefully tossed it across the room, and I almost died as I saw it hit the wall and tear in two. He grabbed me by the arms and shook me, and finally I let the tears spill down my cheeks. "Don't ever strike me again, bitch, or I swear, I will..." he trailed off, and suddenly his face flooded with guilt. He released my arms and took a step back. "Emily, I... I'm sorry," he cried as I grabbed my broken book and flew out the door. "Please, Emily!" He called after me. But all I heard was bitch, bitch, bitch.

But no. I couldn't turn back. I ran until I ended up in some sort of greenhouse. I collapsed behind a tree in the corner, hugging my knees to my chest. I could hear him calling out for me, but I prayed that he would never find me. But if he did, I'd be here. Crying. Breaking.

Notes

I think I broke my heart.