counting stars - harriet hayes

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summary: you get stuck on the rooftop with none other than harriet hayes. perhaps she's not bad as you think she is. or perhaps she just looks really pretty under the moonlight.

warnings: none

word count: 2233

.   .   .

When back luck decided to stuck, it hit at the worst possible time. You not only felt as if you had an awful show, but now you were stuck on the root top with none other than Harriet's Hayes.

It was silly, really.

You were enjoying the after party when Matt sent you up to the roof to turn the lights on after the power had suddenly went out.

It was simple, you just had to flip the backup switch on.

But of course Harriet had to follow you up. She was bored, is what she had said. She simply wanted to get fresh air. But when she's your shadow nine out of ten times, you find her excuses somewhat hard to believe.

She always had to be around you. But she hated you. And you despised her too.

She didn't like that you were gay, and you didn't like that she tried to push her beliefs on you. Harriet's Haye's stupidly pretty face pissed you off to no end. And you hated that stupidly pretty dress that she was wearing tonight; it hugged her small curves in the best ways, and you just wanted to rip it off.

You wanted her to stop making you feel like this, like the only way you would only be able to feel her skin, and taste her lips would be in your dreams. Like you had to fight wars with her to keep your feelings down within.

"There's no cell service" Harriet had said.

"Could've told you that one" was your piqued response, and you banged on the door one last time before giving up.

"Maybe we can climb down."

"Harriet, I hate to break it to you, but we aren't in one of your silly little movies" you told her plainly, without even making an effort to look at her.

You sat down on the concrete block, and pulled your coat tighter around your frame.

"Okay well calm down. At least i'm trying to think of ways to get out of here."

"Yes, because your ideas have been so helpful" you replied sarcastically, and could see that you were getting a rise out of Harriet.

She took a seat beside you, and you moved your leg when her knee hit yours. You hated that a single touch caused shivers down your spine. "You don't have to be so mean to me. I just trying to help, okay?"

You looked away, you wanted to cry, really. Her voice slightly quavered, and you wanted to take it all back. But, you refused to falter your demeanor around her, so, you provided an act of kindness instead. "Harriet, take my jacket. Your freezing," because you could feel her ice cold arm against yours.

"What?" she turned her head to the side, and now her face was incredibly close to yours. All you had to do was lean a little further, if you were to have the courage. "No. It's freezing out. I don't want you to be cold."

"Well you're the one who has to film for a movie soon, so I don't want you to get a cold. My dress sleeves are longer than yours anyways."

You took your jacket off, and placed it over Harriet's shoulders, where she then put her arms through it. It was cold out. Freezing. But you would let yourself get hypothermia if it was the punishment for making Harriet comfortable.

She was still looking at you, you could feel it on the side of your face. You could hear her soft breaths in your ear, over the millions of cars down below you. "Why are you being nice to me all of a sudden?"

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