Till Dawn (HS)

iv

Clara woke up to a forceful nudge to her shoulder, causing her body to roll onto its back, limbs spread out weakly. A sleepy hum left her lips, eyes refusing to open just yet, until there was yet another nudge at her shoulder to urge her awake.

"I have to go somewhere," a gravelly voice beckoned her eyes to flutter open. A musky scent invaded her nostrils, and grey light from out of the small window in the room flooded her vision. She blinked- it took her about five seconds to assess her surroundings and realize that she wasn't in her own room. This room was bigger but bare, nothing on the white walls except for the window in the corner and a cracked open door which led to a compact closet where she saw clothes (mostly all black) tossed around carelessly. This was definitely not her room.

Clara groaned as the memory of her sinful act flooded her mind, all of the groaning and gasping and grunting and thrusting. It was a bit too much to think of all at once, especially since she had just barely opened her eyes, but it was hard not to be reminded of it when her eyes drifted to the very person who was the main star in her memories.

His hair was tied back into a bun, showing off a pair of cheekbones that she would have never noticed before with his long curls always in the way. A black shirt (not surprising) hung on his broad shoulders loosely. It looked like it was two sizes too big for his lean but meaty frame. Unfortunately, she had not gotten a glimpse at his chest yet because he hadn't fully undressed when they had enjoyed their miniature sexscapade; Clara wondered if there had been a particular reason or if he had just been too caught up in the moment to remember to take it off. He certainly had not forgotten to take off her shirt, for even now she was still only in her white bra.

Clara became painfully aware of this and suddenly grasped the sheets around her limbs, tugging it up to conceal her chest. The stranger, well- Harry- didn't even make a notion that he noticed her moment of embarrassment, which Clara was silently grateful for.

She wondered, could they really be considered strangers anymore? Sure, she didn't know much of his personal life or character qualities, but having his d*ck inside her had to mean they were at least on an acquaintance basis now.

"How long was I asleep?" Clara finally spoke after coming to her senses, feeling more awake with each blink of her eyes. The grey gloomy ambiance meant that it was probably an exceptionally cold morning and snowing maybe even heavier than the day before. It was only a few weeks until Christmas, which meant that the worst of it was probably yet to come. Clara didn't mind the cold, though, since she grew up north where the winters were even harsher. She liked to think that it made Christmas feel that much more special; the warmth of the fireplace, the crisp burn of hot chocolate on your tongue, cuddling with whoever was in arm's distance. It truly was her favorite time of the year.

"All night," Harry's words were clipped. "I slept on the couch."

She grimaced slightly in embarrassment. "Sorry about that... Where do you have to go?"

"Out."

Harry stood there beside the edge of the bed, just staring at her in a way that had her cheeks flushing. He was back to being unconventionally emotionless, his anger and lust from the night before gone as quickly as it came. Clara bit down on her bottom lip and apprehensively let her eyes flicker up to the green ones gazing at her, still and expectant.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" She couldn't help but ask.

"Because I'm waiting for you to get up."

"I'm not decent," she shook her head and her cheeks became warmer. Having him see her while they were having sex was one thing, but having his cold eyes on her now, in the light of morning while she got up out of his bed was a complete other thing. Clara had never been shy when it came to her body, but for some reason there was a need for his approval that swarmed in her stomach like nervous butterflies.