Alluring » h.s

11

//Ugh I'm starting school in a few days. It's my first year of high school(yeah, high school in Canada is grade 10 for some reason). but heyy my crush is in a class with me so that's something//

That night we entered my bedroom, the doors and windows surrounding the house finally secured, we settled on the comfort of my bed. I laid on my side, the wall of Harry's torso near my head. His back pressed against the creaky headboard, gleaming eyes frozen on the bland coloured walls across.

"Are we going to just walk into the school, and demand for his presence?" I asked, tilting my head to acquire a better view of his face. His distracted gaze flicked to mine, bright irises apparent from the murkiness of the room.

"No. We have to find a way to speak to him without attracting any attention."

"Um...we can just go to his house?" I suggested, anticipating his next question with a sheepish bite of a tongue.

"And you're in knowledge of his home address?" Harry arched a suspicious eyebrow, lips slid down in a disbelieving frown.

"Y-yeah. It was my Junior year. One of my bit-- friends wanted to uh...seduce him. So she somehow got his address and pretended to ask for help for an assignment. She dragged me along, just in case the plan would fail. It did. She was expelled," I muttered, meeting his gaze with shameful eyes. "Not one of my finest moments. I was stupid."

Harry's eyebrows furrowed, complimenting his jutted bottom lip. His eyes blinked, sights tilted to survey my face. "It's all right. Remember what you once said? There is no shame in being open about certain matters."

I chuckled, surprised he remembered my words. "Using my words to make a point? Clever." I turned to lie on my back, my hands resting on my stomach. "So, are we going to Mr. Malik's place?"

Harry sighed. "I'd prefer if you don't come." A series of protests were ready to escape my lips, but the continuation of his voice prevented me from speaking. "But I did say that you were to stay by my side at all times."

It was silent for a while. His alert eyes met my drowsy ones, locked in a whirlwind of stares.

"Why do you do this?" I muttered, my eyes roaming every inch of his defined features. He was a definite sight for sore eyes, and I had no shame with admitting that to myself. I consider myself to be lucky that I got Harry, instead of some other old man that I had originally thought he would be. It was remarkable how my previous feelings for Harry morphed into another. Things were strictly business at first. I'd learnt to tolerate him with his annoyingly formal way of speaking. But now? He constantly appeared in the subconscious, vivid scenes in my mind as I slept. I found myself thinking about him, appreciating him, ogling him.

Maybe it was all because of my supposed sexual attraction toward him, due to my deprivation of sex. But I was afraid that it would morph into something beyond my sexual desires. Now was certainly not the time.

"Do what?"

I sighed. I sat up from my position, slowly crawling toward the edge of the mattress. My curled toes met the soft carpet. "Never mind."

He kept silent. What I liked about Harry was that he didn't push it. Maybe he just didn't care enough, but I was glad he didn't force me to elaborate.

I opened my closet, thankful that I have much more variety. I took a loose fitted shirt-- which originally belonged to Liam, and a pair of my fuzzy socks.

"I'm just going to take a shower," I mumbled, turning to see his eyes tracing my movements. "You can shower after, if you'd like. I have some of Liam's clothes. Wear that while I put our dirty ones in the wash."