Pride {l.s.}

27- Was A Friend

I can't even name the music. There's a DJ off to the side with a turntable. All you can hear is the melody made by technology and a pounding of the beat. The words become a jumble and are barely heard unless people are shouting them. The dance floor is tight as Harry pulls us into the middle of it. We all look ridiculous with a cheerleading grinding on a knight and other such odd occurrences, but no one is being rejected. Every odd person to ever live is being accepted without words being spoken as we all dance next to each other.

I stand on my tippy toes so that I can talk into Harry's ear directly in order to be heard. "What if we're seen?"

Harry has a mischievous smile before he leans down to whisper in my ear. "Who cares? Just live, Lou."

I think that it's the grin on Harry's face that gets me moving. Harry and I move our bodies to the beat in the crowd. We all get lost in the music, but I can't get completely lost. I am still completely aware of Harry's body pressed up against mine as we move. There's no room for spaces between us. Our arms are up in the air or near our bodies, but sometimes they are on each other. Harry's hands are on my waist. My hands are on his shoulders. Our eyes barely leave each other. I didn't think we could get closer, but Harry pulls me in by my waist. We move as one.

"What are you doing?" I ask him with a confused expression. I find it hard to speak when I can barely breath being so close to him.

"Distracting you," Harry replies. His breath on my neck makes goose bumps appear and my legs weak. I hold onto him for support.

"It's working," I mumble and hope that Harry doesn't hear it.

The one song turns into many songs. The DJ flows the songs together so easily that it's impossible to tell how many songs we've danced to. I get lost in his touch and nothing else matters. All I feel is his eyes on mine, his hands on my waist, and his body against mine. No one looks at us odd. If they saw us, they would probably think we were actually the two gay men from Brokeback Mountain.

Except I'm not gay.

But looking at Harry, I only want to kiss him. I want his body pressing me into a wall. I want to run my fingers through his long hair as I lose all sense of reality. I want to lie underneath Harry with his lips on my collar bones.

I shouldn't want one of my best friends like that.

"You're making it really hard not to kiss you," Harry whispers into my ear before he pulls away slightly to look into my eyes. He bites his lip. It makes him irresistible. "I wish you didn't have a girlfriend."

Every ounce of common sense leaves me.

"It's not my fault if it's a drunken mistake," I whisper in reply even though we both know it would not be a drunk enough mistake. Neither of us have had a sip. My mouth goes right up against his ear, and I can feel him shudder.

"Lou, stop teasing me," Harry replies with shaky words. "Let me do it or leave me on this dance floor alone."

I wish that I have the courage to walk off of the dance floor. I wish I could turn my back on his green eyes and walk away. I wish I could force him out of my life again, but I can't. He takes up my whole being now. Every thought is him. Every dream is him. Harry has taken over, and I can't walk away.

"I can't leave you, Harry," I reply. My voice is almost as shaky as Harry's. We know that this is something that would be undoable.

"Kiss me, you fool," Harry says, and that's all I need.

It's a desperate kiss. We cling to each other as if we can only breath with the other ones mouth against ours. My hands slide from his shoulders to his hair. My knees are weak, but my body being surrounded in a crowd makes it easier to stay standing since we're so tight. I tilt my head, and I feel my cowboy hat fall to the ground. I barely notice. All I feel is Harry's hand slipping underneath my shirt. His hands are against my hot skin. Having his lips on mine again is like the first time I started smoking after I quit. It's full of desperation and relief. I'm relieved to finally be able to do this even though I know how wrong this is.

I'm the one to pull away. I rest my forehead against his. I'm scared to open my eyes. If I open my eyes, I'm going to be reminded even more about how wrong this is. Something so wrong shouldn't feel so right.

"Open your eyes, Lou."

I shake my head slightly. "If I open my eyes, I'm only going to be reminded that I should not have done that."

"Drunken mistake, right?" Harry reminds me. I open my eyes. His green eyes are the same color as a spring green color. It reminds me of spring, baby deer, and plants that are just beginning to grow.

"Drunken mistake," I confirm. My eyes leave his and glance down at his lips. "What's one more mistake?"

This kiss is slower. It's showing the emotions that we have both been showing but too scared to talk about. It's a kiss that shows the way he always makes me food. It shows the way I answer his midnight phone calls because he's lonely. It shows how he wants me to quit smoking. It shows every time we have protected each other without seeing another option.

We continue to dance. We sneak in small kisses here and there, and we barely notice that the party is slowing down. The music changes to older pop tunes, and a slow song finally comes on. Harry's hands don't leave my body as he pulls me against him. I rest my head on his chest as we sway to the music. The dance floor is emptier and quieter. Everyone is holding their loved ones close. I didn't even notice that the party was winding down. I was so absorbed in Harry's touches and kisses.

"What have we done, Haz?" I whisper quietly. I can hear the pain and concern in my voice. We've gone past a line that we can't go back over.

"I didn't mean to force you, Lou. I'm sorry," Harry replies. "I couldn't be your friend in that moment. I needed you. I needed all of you. I'm sorry."

I lift my head off of his chest and look at him. "This was not your fault at all. I wanted you too."

"That's the difference between you and me, Boo. You want me, and I need you."

He doesn't know how hard it is to function when he isn't around. He doesn't know how many times I've wanted to kiss his lips. He doesn't know. I want to tell him about how much I need him, but I leave him alone with his thoughts. I put my head back on his chest. I can hear his heart beating along the words to an old Bob Dylan song.

He was a friend of mine
He was a friend of mine
Every time I hear his name
Lord I just can't keep from cryin'
'Cause he was a friend of mine.

A/N

Fun fact: I wrote this scene randomly off the top of my head, and it happened to me. Like a boy kissing me, and we both called it off as an in the moment feeling. We knew we crossed the line of being friends. Just found it weird that my life shaped after this book.

Cool. Thanks for reading.

xoxo raindropkiss1