skinny || h.s. au [Rewrite Now Up!]

fortysix

[*]

Harry has been alone with Marley before. But this time it feels different. He can't really tell what it is. It's just different.

She's quiet. But that's normal. Except what isn't normal is she's not looking at her hands or fidgeting with her cold fingers. She's sitting there in the passenger seat with her right ankle resting on her left knee.

And Harry can feel her eyes on him every few minutes.

Just small glances. Like he broke the silence and she's simply looking over at him as he speaks.

But the air stays quiet. The silence unbroken. And the slight smell of disaster hanging just outside of their senses. Just too far away to grasp and give meaning to.

As soon as they get to his house, she leads the way to the door. Waits for him to unlock it. And steps inside when he holds it open for her.

The door is hardly closed behind them when she turns to face him. She slowly walks to the staircase. And stops on the first step. "You're sure no one is home?"

He shuts the door. And walks toward her. "Yeah."

And then her cold fingers are in his hair. And her lips are all he can think about as they kiss his own. Along his jaw. Down his neck. And back again.

It's like a dream. His entire being screams for victory. She's kissing him. And tugging on his shirt. And he can hardly keep himself from smiling long enough to kiss her back.

Because she's kissing him.

"Harry," she says. Her heart beating a bit faster. Her mind set on this even if it's reckless and for the wrong reasons. "I want to."

His chest feels like it may explode. Without a verbal response, he lifts her from the step. She wraps her legs around his waist. And Harry climbs the stairs blind and a bit clumsy in his haste.

He isn't sure why now. But he doesn't complain. Doesn't want to think about her reasons. Even though she just lost her mother and hasn't spoken to her brother in months and her entire world is chaos. He's selfish in this moment with her lips on the hot skin of his neck.

The door to his bedroom is kicked closed. And a second later, Marley finds her back pressed up against it.

Well apparently this is happening. Maria sighs.

Marley just tugs harder on Harry's hair. As if pulling him closer will push away the voice in her head. His skin is warm and his lips are a bitter kind of sweet. Like coffee and sugar.

His fingers trace up under the cotton of her shirt and grasp her hip. And for once, Harry's fingers are colder than her skin from their prolonged time outside in the wind.

The temperature of them makes her gasp into his mouth. The electricity of his touch sparking across her freckled skin.

Harry smirks at the small sound and slides his hand higher. Disappearing up her shirt. Fingers finding the small dips between her ribs and the elastic strap of her bra. But before he can find the clasp, Marley grasps his hand by the wrist and pushes it away from her side. A wordless no.

Instead she interlocks their fingers while their kisses become sloppy and holds him impossibly tighter. Impossibly closer.

And despite her previous experience with sex and boys with lips an intoxicating taste, this time it's different. She tells herself it's because she's in control. She's the one using him instead of the other way around.