camp cherry three | hs

fifty seven

i hope the fact i'm updating once a week isn't that bad 🧍‍♂️ i'm super busy rn with work and i also just started college so it might stay that way for a while!! i'm still very excited for the rest of charry's story :)

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HANA

Although I miss Ella before I even reach my parents' house, the dull heartache is numbed by the sight of my childhood bedroom. Plastered with holiday relics and pictures and reminders, the place is practically a sanctuary of comfort.

Harry rests our suitcase in one corner, dusting off his hands lightly and observing my face, "hey." He eyes forward firmly, scooping my hands into his, "what's up?"

I exhale heavily through my nose, glancing off to one side, "I just miss being..." I pause, shaking my head with a huff of dry humour, "younger, sometimes. Being able to be more, you know, carefree."

"Cherrypop, you're only twenty-five. You are still young. You have nothing to worry about."

"I know there's not much difference in the age, I'm mostly complaining about having to pay taxes," I concede, knocking my feet together and puffing out my cheeks immaturely.

He laughs softly, sitting right next to me and scooting over until my body automatically lifts, and he guides me right into his lap. "I think maybe I should hire an accountant for the camps and then you never have to worry about it again, does that sound good?" he offers, expression completely steadfast and serious.

I run silent at his suggestion, biting my tongue to one side for a moment until my voice finds a way to materialise, albeit quietly, "you're so hot." His subtle smile grows gradually, sparkles in his pale eyes as he nods sharply.

He blinks, running his tongue gently over his bottom lip to hide his smile, "because I'm getting us an accountant?"

"Yes," I answer without hesitation, resting my hand on the back of his neck and leaning forward to connect my lips to his briefly. "And you're pretty."

His arms snake around my waist, momentarily bumping his chin against my shoulder, "pretty, yeah?" His volume drops into a near whisper, his eyes glinting with awe, "you're pretty."

I lean forward once more, kissing him harder as my hand instinctively drops to his jeans. Before I can even attempt to remove them, his slender fingers are wrapping immovably about my wrist and pulling my hand away. I pout dramatically, frowning a little, "baby—"

He grabs my other with incredibly quick reflexes, gathering them together and somehow holding both wrists within just one of his hands. "No, c'mon," he speaks solidly, though I sense a little weak waver in his voice. I shuffle upwards, resting my legs on either side of his waist in an attempt to be closer, "stop, Cherry. You know we can't. Don't start shit that I can't finish like I want."

"Yes, we can," I battle softly, settling back to give him a little space.

He sighs heavily, pale eyes reasoning with mine, "we can't. Your parents are—"

I raise my eyebrows, "we can be quiet."

He follows, though his is more condescending than persuasive, "you know that's bullshit."

I straighten my spine, deciding to dig my feet into the ground on this matter, "it's not. At least I can be quiet."

He sits up so quickly I can barely process it, and his hand supports my jaw, tipping it back with a certain roughness that he tends to avoid now that I'm a little more physically vulnerable, as he likes to put it. My eyes flutter closed at the tiny squeak that escapes my throat, knowing that was his exact intention.