the cool side of the pillow {styles au}

three

"There you are," Harry says with relief.

I've been wandering around his house, finding myself engrossed by the beauty of it while he was taking a phone call. It's an old Victorian style home that was clearly built long before either of us were born. It's built similarly to mine but feels much more vintage with all the antique furniture and even the original fireplace in the living room. Right now I'm in a hallway off of the kitchen looking on with a small smile at a picture of Harry when he was a baby. I have to admit, he was the most adorable child I've ever seen.

"Everything okay?" I ask, referring to the phone call Harry took.

He smiles down at me as he takes my hand, leading me away from the picture, "Yeah, it was my mum calling to tell me that they won't be home until tomorrow."

Harry pulls me onto one of the couches in the living room, sitting close enough to make my heart beat a little faster. I curl my legs up beneath myself while Harry sits spread eagle, one arm draped over the couch behind me. I pull the sleeves of my sweater down and curl my fingers around the ends, trying to warm up.

"Cold, love?" he asks.

"A little. Have you put that fireplace to use yet?"

Harry shakes his head, "Nope. But I could give it a go if you'd like."

I nod furiously and Harry stands up, walking over to the fireplace and tossing a few logs in. He then crouches down and lights a match, tossing it in as well. It takes a few seconds for the fire to catch but then it burns steadily. Harry stands up with a proud smile on his face and I clap for him. He takes a quick bow before plopping down next to me again, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. At this point, I don't mind his touch as much and even welcome it. His body is extremely warm; he is practically a walking furnace. I lean a little more into his side, basking in the heat he provides.

"So how did an Englishman like you end up here?" I inquire.

Harry rubs my arm as he talks, "My dad got a job here a few years ago but my mum and I decided to remain in England while she tried to find work here. She finally found something substantial, and they thought it would be great for me to finish school here."

"Damn... I was expecting something about you witnessing a crime and the English Mafia being after you, so you had to move here. Is your name even Harry? You can tell me, this is a safe space."

Harry goes into a fit of laughter, "You're mental, Cleo."

After a few seconds he calms down and looks at me seriously, "'Nothing special' my ass."

My smile disappears as I get caught up in the seriousness of his tone. I find myself gazing up into his vibrant green eyes and getting lost in them. My heart beats frantically in my chest and I have to remind myself to breathe. Harry's warm breath hits my face like a tidal wave as he leans closer and I'm enveloped by the smell of peppermint and alcohol. The last thing I see before my eyes flutter shut is Harry's breathtaking half smirk. Before I can really even prepare myself, he kisses me. There are fireworks. Fireworks so big they're probably visible all across the world. He knows exactly what to do with those soft, full lips and I find myself completely out of breath. Sooner than I'd like, I have to pull away to keep myself from passing out.

Harry presses his nose against the side of my face as he fiddles with the ends of my hair. He seems to be in his own little world for a minute, smiling like an idiot. I find myself blushing for the millionth time as he looks down at me with those captivating eyes. I'm terrified by how fast this has all happened and how little we truly know about each other. As far as I know, Harry has no clue about what happened with Jonah and how I'm on the train halfway to Crazyville. I also know very little about him and that's scary, but right now I don't care. He's smiling down at me and I can't help but smile back, happy to have his company.