Breakable Heaven

Chapter 3

Thankfully the sun has completely set by the time the SUV arrives back at my Tribeca apartment, leaving the street dark and seemingly empty. I say seemingly because honestly, paparazzi are getting too crafty. I mean how is it possible to take such a clear image from a mile away? I don't know, but they do it. They're vultures and I can never be too careful. I step out onto the street bundled in a peacoat with a scarf wrapped around my neck and cross my arms around my stomach as I make my way towards the entrance of my building. Mike follows behind me but stops in the lobby, offering me a goodnight. My security keeps 24/7 watch in the lobby at all times, switching shifts every few hours which I'm thankful for. It offers me alone time and a chance at a little bit of normalcy while in my own home. I turn for the elevator and see a man standing in a dark coat with joggers and curly hair peeking from an otherwise hooded head. 

Harry. 

"No one saw me, no worries," he says quietly, already knowing what I'm going to say. Some see my concerns as paranoia, I know Harry does. When you live life in such a public manner people have a way of finding out everything, the good and bad. Harry is bad. If news got out that we were doing... whatever this is... it wouldn't be good. Casual sex has no place in my public image. I'm supposed to be the girl you bring home to mom and dad, not to bed. 

"Erm, ready?" Harry asks, sounding a bit confused. He breaks me from my thoughts and snaps me back to reality. 

"Uhm, yea. Yea, sorry. Let's go," I say quietly, leading him into the elevator. 

We enter my once-darkened apartment and I flicker the lights on as we set our things down and remove our jackets. 

"You moved things around, yeah?" Harry asks, noting the change to the living room layout. 

"Uh, yea. New couch," I say awkwardly. I'm not one for forced niceties, which is all this is. It's small talk until he can get me to bed. Hook-up culture can naturally be a bit impersonal and surface-level, both things that I'd usually avoid. 

"Want a drink?" I ask Harry as I pad over to the bar cart in the dining room. It's sitting just outside of the liquor closet. 

"Erm, sure. Whiskey neat please," he responds, following me slowly into the dining room as he looks around the penthouse. I oblige while making myself an old-fashioned, my go-to drink. I don't know why I'm so nervous to be with Harry tonight, it's not like we haven't done this a million other times. I try to distract myself from my own thoughts as I hand Harry his drink and take a big gulp of my own. 

"I can't stop thinking about you," Harry admits as he takes another sip of his already half-emptied glass. Our eyes meet for the first time tonight, my skin vibrating from the glass of alcohol I so quickly finished. His green eyes pierce my blue ones and a wave of familiarity rushes over me. 

"I've heard that one before," I say in an attempt to deflect his vulnerability. 

"Don't act like I didn't care about you... like I don't care about you," he says softly as he takes a step closer to me. His eyes are hypnotizing. 

"What about Nichole?" I ask in return, referencing the much older woman he always seemed to enjoy more than me. 

"She's not you," he answers effortlessly, closing in on me. He now stands over me, the smell of whiskey radiating off of his breath and onto my lips. Before I know it, I'm crashing my lips into his, wrapping my long arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. Harry grabs my face before letting his hands roam down my body and to my waist, pulling me in closer. Warmth radiates off of his body as he wraps his arms around my waist and I feel his muscles contract around me. I move my hands to his curly hair, running my fingers through it, making Harry breathe heavier. He picks me up and I wrap my legs around his waist, never breaking the kiss. He walks us to the dining room and puts me down on the table. We break the kiss briefly and I look up at him. We stare into each other's eyes for a minute, taking the other in.