Carolina [h.s]

thirty three

Vada
//

My cheeks are pinker than they've ever been.

Leaned against the bathroom counter, strawberry and blonde drips damp from the shower. Love marks cover my neck, scattering down my chest. My lips are bitten red, and my throat felt scratchy.

Everywhere ached.

Every time I move and shift my body too quickly, pain shoots through my lower middle half and I only have one person to blame.

I glanced at myself in the fogged up mirror, standing in just my towel. I felt as new as the day I was born. Like I shed the skin of my old self and stepped into this new one. I felt confident and fearless. I felt like I was let in on a secret the rest of the world was waiting for me to catch up with.

I held my head high and embraced this new person looking back at me. My eyes shine and sensitive skin aches with meaning. I smile. I can't even help it.

Stepping out of the bathroom and into the air conditioned room, all the lights are off but the sun bleeds its shine through the opened curtains.

Harry's tall figure sits shirtless and leaned on the unmade bed. Cigarette hanging from his mouth, he props the telephone up to his ear with his shoulder while writing something down on a piece of paper.

His eyes look up as soon as I step out, and every move I make is calculated. He listens to the person on the other line, but his attention is mine as I pull my underwear up my legs and when my eyes move around to find my clothes his eyes move in the same direction.

Circling the bed I find my shirt, but before I can reach it he's reaching for me instead. Sitting below on the mattress, he watches up through his eyelashes as he fights with me to tug my towel loose

"I'm sending it today, it should be there next week," He says, but it's not for me and then the thick white cloth falls to the ground by our feet.

Moving inward, he kisses up my bare stomach and holds me still by my hips. My hands grab his hair for leverage out of habit and my head tilts towards the ceiling as his kisses get lower and lower.

"Yeah, I'm still here," I feel his smirk on my skin, and when he tries to get underneath my underwear waistband I'm pulling his hands away with a stern look.

Glancing up at me through dark eyes, his frown is evident and he grows impatient as I keep pushing him away. What he wants is still too sore and I'm scared of the pain of his touch. So getting an idea I lean down, lips brushing against his ear.

"Hang up the phone," I whispered before kneeling down between his legs, starting to run my hands up his denim covered thighs where his belt buckle is already undone.

"Hang up the phone," I repeated, not whispering anymore and he's the one who gives me a hard look this time.

Before I can lean in and pull him out, he's holding me back by my hair and it makes me laugh loudly. He curls his tongue against his cheek, fighting his own smirk as he speaks.

"I'll call you back later," The phone clicks back on the hook and he's fully mine with dark eyes and a tight grip.

"You're pushing it, V." he tells me but I ignore him as I fight him to grab at him again and we have this ridiculous tug of war that makes us both laugh.