Voodoo [H.S.]

Twenty Seven

September 5th, 2022

It's an unseasonably warm day, and the sun seems to be shining a little bit brighter. The grass looks greener than normal. The birds are singing a little louder than usual. Maybe I'm just in a really good mood.

Even my outfit reflects my attitude today, a white oversized sweater over dark brown denim pants and white converse. I feel better than I have in a long time, with things feeling like normal again and the events of the last few weeks fading into the background. Things have stayed quiet and I've stayed on the down low, declining nights out with Gianna and Joey and sticking to myself.

And to Harry.

Who may or may not have a big part in why I'm so god damn cheerful.

He kissed me.

Like really kissed me. Not while things are hot and heavy, which is the only time I've ever felt his lips on mine. I looked forward to those moments, but they were short lived. I knew once the fun was over I wouldn't be able to reach over and feel his lips again until the next time.

He was so casual about it. Like we'd done it a million times. It felt so domestic, it was everything I've ever wanted from him. We fit so perfectly together, and the sparks that ran through my entire body made me never want to pull away again. Just make that my full time job, kissing Harry.

We haven't talked about it all though. I haven't been able to see him since he dropped me off at work and walked away without so much as a look back. Probably for the best, considering I all but squealed to myself and practically did a jump kick in the air.

It's pathetic, but it's only been a couple of days and I miss him. The week spent at his apartment was the best week I've had in a long time. I felt like I learned more about him than I ever have before. Not only things about him, but his mannerisms and the way he operates. Which is arguably some of the most important parts.

He's attentive to detail and a perfectionist. He's a clean person, which is where we clash. One morning I woke up to a bra being thrown at my face and Harry telling me to stop leaving my bras hooked around doorknobs. Oops.

He's incredibly intelligent, almost intimidatingly so. It comes off like he doesn't think he is, which is disheartening because he can have a good conversation about anything. He was so quiet when we first met, and even up until recently, but now it's like the floodgates have opened. Everything new thing I learn about him just makes that growing feeling in my chest feel bigger every time.

But that's getting shoved way down in the depths.

I could go on for forever about all of things that I'm finding I completely adore about Harry. As promised, I'm heading over to his place again with an overnight bag in tow, ready for the date night Harry has prepared. He's cooking dinner, which he claims will be completely from scratch. He's never once mentioned anything about cooking, not once did I see him cook that whole week I was over, and then last night tells me this. So we'll see.