45: Sand Castles

102 3 0
                                    

THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR 3K READS! :)

You're amazing and super cool.

Harry is building a sandcastle. Little archways carved in as doors, pretty shells stuck in random places. I watch him from my beach chair.

His hair falls in his eyes. It's still long, although I managed to get him to cut it from his soccer mom - esque look.

Is it 'football mom' in Britain?

I have a radio playing next to me, and Wake Me Up by Avicii comes on. I nod my head along with the music.

I made up a dance to this song a few months back.

"All this time I was finding myself, and I didn't know I was lost." Harry sings softly to the music.

"I didn't know I was lost." I sing back at him, albeit badly.

"Come look at my sand castle." Harry tells me.

I get up from my chair, and walk over to Harry. I sit down in the sand next to him.

"So pretty." I touch one of the shells.

"Yeah?" He smiles. "Let's live in it."

I smirk a little bit and look down at him. "I'll get sand in my hair."

"So? Willie Wonka's chocolate factory would make me fat but I'd live there anyway." Harry says.

"Could we fit in the house." I humor him.

"Well, it's kind of in the layout of the one I bought us back home." He says.

My brow furrows. "Wait, you what?" Chains by Nick Jonas is playing from the radio, getting on my nerves.

"Shut up Nick!" I scream.

Harry snorts.

I get up and turn off the radio. I turn back and look at Harry. "You did what?"

"I bought us a home." He says.

"It looks like a mansion." I say.

"We can have friends over." He says.

"We can have the entire population of homeless people in America over." I say.

"You don't like it?" He asks.

I look up at the sky. I close my eyes. "Of course I like it. But is it necessary."

"Yes." Harry says.

I look at him.

"I like that look." He tells me.

"What's it look like?" I ask, walking the distance between us and sitting on him.

"Like you find me endearing, but I confuse you." He says.

"That's accurate."

"I know you." He smiles.

"What's my favorite movie?" I ask, quizzing him.

"Shallow Hal."

"Right." I nod my head.

Harry looks down at me. "What are you going to do when we have to go back?"

"Cry." I say. We only have two days left in paradise.

Harry's fingers brush over my stomach, and I make the strangest noise. Something in between a laugh and a choking sound.

Harry starts laughing, and I end up smiling. "What was that?" He asks.

The ChoreographerWhere stories live. Discover now