Mercy

Chapter Sixteen

Wasted by Tiesto ft. Matthew Koma 

"Summer tiiime," Clary sang, her arms in the air and a grin plastered on her face. The night after I went to Harry's, we were all hanging out late at night at the ice cream parlor. My excuse? I was interested in doing research on classes for college at the library. We were just about to leave and hop into Clary's Jeep, but Zayn wanted another vanilla cone. 

My hips were grasped just so suddenly, but I knew exactly who those hands belonged to. His chest was pressed against my back, my arms lazily at my sides doing absolutely nothing because my face had reddened. There was this different emotion that was changing between us. Something shifted and suddenly we were both completely okay with public show of affection. Although our show was just mainly holding hands or hugging, Wayne and Zayn stilled teased the hell out of us. 

Clary even pulled me aside at one point, hissing about how I should have told her what's going on between Harry and I. I'm not even sure myself. We're getting to know each other, and hugging and hand holding isn't a law broken. 

My ears were hot as a tight grin pressed against my lips, appearing although I tried hard to hide it. The most reassuring part was that Harry was the main contributor to affection, and that made me sure he didn't care what his friends thought, and he did somewhat like me. He's a cocky little bastard, so I'm sure he believes I like him, too, which isn't a lie. 

"Are you good, fat ass?" Emily teased Zayn, and he only glared at her with his pretty hazel eyes. Emily laughed quietly to herself as he went to pinch her cheek.

Zayn and Emily were two very opposite people. She was bright and cheery, happy all the time except when something really dawned on her. Zayn, however, was darker and much quieter. He was still a partier, and still socialized, but I mean he's sometimes a little scary. And Emily would never hurt a fly. She's as scary as a tuna fish. 

"I'm leaving you all behind," Clary announced as she hoped in the driver's seat. Wayne immediately objected to her driving. 

He waved his hands motioning towards the jeep. "Hell no," he only said, shoving Clary from the driver's seat with his hips, holding onto the steering wheel. Clary squealed, her jaw clenched as she pushed against Wayne's stronger figure. They both held on to the steering, and I was a little afraid they'd break it off. 

We watched with annoyance, knowing that one of them was going to get hurt and whine about it the entire night to each other, eventually fighting again. I leaned onto Harry, who was strangely silent. He would now be egging on Clary and Wayne, but tonight he was rather quiet. 

"My fucking car, dickface!" 

I turned around in his arms just to stare up at him. My chin rested against his chest, my eyes looking up at his face. He was staring far ahead, eyes squinted as he watched something from behind. I rested my hands flat against his stomach, wanting to catch his attention. When he finally looked down at me my lips were pouted, eyes big just the way he says is "kind of" cute. 

He took a breath before talking. "You and Belle give me the same fucking look. It's creepy. Stop." 

"Why? Isn't it cute?" I laughed, recreating the look on my face just for him to object and look away again. He only gripped my body closer, warm gaze filling me with even more heat to rise on my pink cheeks. He had to lean down to even get our lips at a close proximity, so I filled in the gap by going on my toes. The kiss was short and sweet, but he kept pulling me back every time I pulled away. 

Both of us were grinning as I fought against him, but knowing he was stronger he cockily gripped my hips tighter and pulled our bodies together tighter than before. I laughed when I stepped on his feet, and he groaned because he hates when people step on his Chucks, especially the white ones he takes more care of than his hair. And his hair is another thing. I feel like I have to ask for permission to touch it. Unfortunately, I love to touch it because it's soft and cute, and I'm not good at asking for permission.