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Chapter 49 - Harry

                                                                 49.  

                                                           ●•Harry•●

"It’s tidy!” was the first thing she said once I unlocked the door to my flat, pushing it open and revealing the pleasant sight inside. And, yeah, compared to the last time Kirsten had been here, I guess I could say it was tidy. Plus, I’d spent the whole week doing a few tasks here and there so that I could take a break after work, before uni and during the weekend.

Not that I was expecting the girl I’m in love with to call me on a Friday afternoon asking me to take her out, and later, ending up at my place. Like, not at all. I’m not complaining, though.

After the tree house experience – which wasn’t as bad to me as I was expecting it to be, after so long being away from there for obvious reasons –, Kirsten and I went back to our picnic blanket and put all the leftovers into the basket before finally leaving. I intended on being at the tree house for a wee more (because, seriously, I was a lot comfortable with Kirsten lying on my lap and laughing like there was no tomorrow), but the wind was only getting harder and soon enough it’d be raining. And, well, the tree house has nothing but holes on it.

“I am a tidy man, okay?” I finally replied to her while putting the key back on the lock and closing the door behind us. Kirsten just removed her jacket, revealing her white tank top and a bit of her blue bra strap which I successfully avoided looking at by turning around again to throw my keys at the small bowl on the counter that separated the kitchen from the dinning/living room, also removing my shoes on my way there.

“Lie. You just cleaned it up ‘cause you were trying to impress me,” she mocked, placing her jacket on the back of the couch and making her way to the hallway, stopping just to turn around and ask me, “May I use your bathroom?”

And I couldn’t help but laugh at that.

“Oh God, you do know what politeness is? I’m shocked.”

“Shut up, bastard. I do have good manners, just so you know. Though I should just insult you, ‘cause seriously, what’s the thing with your socks? Don’t you have enough money to buy proper ones?” she then pointed at the hole in my left sock and I unconsciously put my foot back, curling my toe in an attempt of trying to hide the fact that it was hanging out of the material. For which reason, I don’t know. She’d obviously already noticed it.

“May you go to the bathroom and leave my socks alone, Kirsten?” she laughed at my words, but turned around and disappeared behind the door.

The thing is: I just noticed I had put on my old torn socks when I had already both of them on my feet, and I was just too lazy to change them, considering the fact that my feet would pretty much be hidden in my shoes all the time. And then again, I wasn’t expecting to bring her home tonight with me at all, so I really hadn’t worried about that. Besides, I wasn’t really ashamed. I’m lazy most part of the time.

Silently, I removed my socks (not ashamed, but I do not need Kirsten staring at my foot), placed them inside my converse and walked to the kitchen, grabbing two glasses and then heading to the living room, going for the cabinet where I kept a few special wines for a few special occasions. Today it was certainly one of them.

Just when I was about to sit on the floor I realized I’d forgotten the corkscrew, quickly going back to the kitchen and opening the top drawer. On my way back, Kirsten was walking out the small hallway, frowning at me as she took in the objects in my hands.

“So, did it work?”

Her frown grew bigger. “What worked?”

“The cleaning, did it impress you?”