Depiction

seven

A t-shirt.

A fucking white t-shirt. That is what hung from Harry's shoulders, a pair of simple dark jeans adorning his lower half. The only thing holding any hint of dressiness was his silver cross necklace and maybe the dark boots. Well, if you ignored the fact that they were old and worn and that he had them on every time I saw him.

So I think it was safe to say I was overdressed. At first I was embarrassed that I had put in so much effort for an evening with him. Well, technically Alexis was the one who had put in the effort. But I began to take a little pride in how I looked when I saw Harry's reaction. His eyebrows were raised as he devoured my appearance, a slight smirk lifting the corner of his lips. He didn't seem to mind.

"Damn," he muttered. "Look at you." He didn't say it as a compliment, but made it sound like more of a teasing remark. He was satisfying himself with the idea that I had gotten all dressed up for him, I could hear it in his cocky tone.

I stepped past Harry without making any eye contact or inviting him in, trying to make it obvious that I wasn't in any way excited to see him or trying to impress him. I just wanted to go to whatever place he had planned and leave so that he would stop bugging me. Or at least that's what I told myself, but that fact still didn't explain the pumping of my heart before I had opened the door.

I heard him follow behind me as I walked up to the only parked car in sight that wasn't me or Alexis'. I turned back when I approached the passenger door, looking back to him. I didn't know what I expected; for him to say something, open the door for me, anything. But instead he only walked over to the drivers side and hopped in.

I just did the same before Harry started up the engine. "Where are we going, exactly?" I asked.

He took his time answering, pulling away onto the road before glancing to me. "First I thought we'd grab something to eat, then check out this new club downtown."

I nodded. I wouldn't expect anything different, really.

We drove in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, Harry irritatingly taking a glance at me and my attire every once in a while. Not that I was one to talk, because I was doing the same. I found myself eyeing his large hands gripped around the steering wheel, for some reason loving the rings around his fingers. I also saw the way his necklace chain rested on his prominent collarbones. His jawline was also a nice feature, and God, so were his plump red lips. And I could tell through the thin fabric of his shirt that he was well muscled.

All of these attributes led me to believe he took girls to clubs often.

"Ahem," Harry coughed. I snapped my eyes up from his tattooed arms to find his everlasting smug smirk. I'd been caught.

"What?" I asked.

"I saw you looking."

"Don't flatter yourself," I said. "I was just staring off."

"Mhmm," Harry said as if he didn't believe me. I wouldn't believe me, either.

We passed by a cute little pizzeria that I went to sometimes and it sparked my interest. "Why don't we go there?" I asked, pointing out the window. Harry glanced that way and his smile immediately disappeared.

"No."

His hard expression confused me a little, but I shrugged. "They've got some good pizza," I said in a sing-song, "you're missing out" kind of voice.

"Yeah, I know," he muttered, which only puzzled me more. Then he glanced from side to side, looking for what seemed to be his cigarettes since he pulled out a stick once his eyes found it. He cupped his hands around it and then put one back on the steering wheel, lighting it and sticking it between his lips. I didn't like to smoke and probably never would, but I didn't have a problem watching Harry puff the coils out of his cherry red lips.