Goldie | H.S.

Chapter 12

"Come on now. You owe me a kiss." Harry hangs on the door frame, his body welcoming her in for more of taste he received the night before. Dropping his arm, he wiggles his finger in her direction, scrunching his nose.

"Shhh!" Goldie darts toward him, playfully pushing against his strong chest with no success of breaking through.

He stays stationary, unrelenting to her feeble attempts to get back in the bunk. "Gonna have to push a lot harder than that." Keeping his chin smugly in the air, he looks down at her, a devious smirk on his face. "All you have to do is pay the toll and I'll let you through. My terms are quite simple."

"What are you doing?" she whispers, shoving her shoulder between the small opening between his body and doorway. "Get back in the room before everyone wakes up."

"Ohhhh," he says with a teasing tone. "She wants to get a few more hours in with me before the gang is up. Why didn't you just say so?"

Finally relaxing his body, Goldie pushes Harry into the room. The two's feet tangle in the clothing lain across the floor, causing them to fall to the ground, Goldie on top of Harry.

"Woah, where was this last night?" Harry slinks his arms around her waist. "Had I known my kiss would have brought this side out of you, I would have made out with you sooner."

She rolls her eyes and pushes off of him, grunting on her way up. As she closes the door, the still-lying Harry reaches his grip to her arm and pulls her back on top of him. She laughs all the way down to her landing.

The site that Harry sees seems to happen in slow motion. A ray of sunshine, bursting through a cluster of gray storm clouds, until it lands perfectly on his chest. He basques in the light, using the tips of his fingers to caress up the backs of her thighs and up the sides of his favorite shirt only she has worn, other than himself.

She sits up to admire him, fanning her fingers and pressing her palms against his tattooed torso. His skin is cool against her flushed skin. She traces the outline of the ferns on his hip bones and imagines herself strolling through the botanical garden back home and running her fingers across the silky leaves of the plants and flowers. It was an oasis of life in the middle of her small ocean town.

"Harry..." she catches herself moving her hands further down and stops.

"What happened? Why'd you stop?" He immediately props himself up on hands. Chest to chest. Heartbeat to heartbeat. His eyes dart from her eyes to her lips, so rapid one wouldn't see if they blinked.

"Nothing. We probably shouldn't is all. I want to... but we shouldn't."

The words are a trigger for him. He wants her. She wants him. Since the day they met, all they have been able to comprehend is the feeling of the each other's touch, and now that it was finally in their grasps, Harry isn't ready to let go.