Harrison Osterfield | One-shot Imagines

Wisdom Tooth

Word count: 1.1k words
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"Mah jae iz still numb," Harrison said with mouth stuffed with cotton, words unclear but somehow intelligible.

"Don't talk much," You cooed, draping an arm around his shoulders in a friendly hug.

"Iz mah face swollen?" He touched his jaw and cheeks as you guided him to the car.

"Nah, dude. It's just anaesthesia... and you are getting ice-cream so... maybe enjoy?" You said sitting on the driver's seat as he settled beside you, grabbing up the paper bag from the back seat. His face instantly turned into a frown when he peeped into it.

"Now what?" You asked, slightly annoyed, giving him a quick side-eye glance.

"I'm literally swallowing my own blood mixed with some hideous medicine and you couldn't even get my favourite ice cream?" His voice was slightly muffled. He rolled his eyes, sinking into the seat and you couldn't help but giggle at his shenanigans.

"You're laughing?"

He is almost behaving like a drunkard or like a whiny toddler. How could you not laugh?

"Wow, it's like you don't have a lisp any more." You chortled.

"Whatever..."

***

You were scooping ice cream in the kitchen while Harrison was resting on his bed, his soft whimpers reaching your ears. The anaesthesia was probably wearing off, and you knew Harrison had a flair for drama anyway. You grinned as you entered his room, carrying a tray with two bowls of ice cream.

His eyes blinked open at the gentle thud of the door closing. Swiftly, he shifted onto his side, watching you approach him. You placed the tray by his legs, nudging some space for yourself to sit.

"Have you taken out the cotton yet?" you asked as he sat up on the bed, a hand pressed against the right side of his face as if he had been slapped.

He simply nodded, avoiding talking since moving his jaw was becoming increasingly painful. You sat cross-legged opposite him, passing him a bowl, but he didn't extend his arms to take it.

Your gaze instinctively went to his face, and your eyes met for a fleeting moment before he turned his gaze away. Your heart raced, causing a lump in your throat. It always happened whenever you caught him looking at you and it seemed to be happening more often lately.

You swallowed and took a silent breath, attempting to calm the sudden pounding in your chest as he finally accepted the ice cream from you. His eyes met yours again, and this time he offered a small grin. You smiled back, though your expression felt a bit strained.

He always did this... Left you puzzled, intrigued, and a little anxious, only to leave you without answers. You'd catch him looking at you across the bar, from across the room, or even from across the dining table, and when your eyes met, he'd quickly turn away.

He couldn't accidentally lock eyes so often with the same person, could he? Your trailing thoughts were put to hold with him nudging you in the elbow.

"It's melting," he remarked, glancing down at your untouched ice cream bowl. Your eyes followed his gaze, and you gave an embarrassed chuckle, picking up the bowl and taking a spoonful into your mouth, relishing the temperature change.

"It doesn't have the same kick as blood," he teased, then laughed at his own joke, his chest vibrating with his giggles. Classic Harrison. But you just smiled... a shy smile. He didn't seem to notice, though. Good for him. Good for you.

Sighing softly, you stood up, collecting the tray and now-empty bowls. He reclined again as you left the room, only to sit up when you returned with your handbag by your side.

"Leaving?" he inquired, his eyebrows knitting together. He shifted till his legs were hanging off the edge of the bed.

"Yeah," you sighed. "There's not much to do, and you should get some rest. Plus, I left some fresh orange juice in the fridge. You can have it when you wake up. It's good for—"

"Pain–"

"Blood loss–"

You let out a chortle but he didn't laugh, instead, you felt his hand wrapping around your wrist. The very next moment, you were pulled onto his lap.

"Who said you don't have anything to do?" he breathed out, his warm breath washing over your face, "You've got me, and you need to spend more time with me," he added, his arms encircling your waist.

The lump in your throat was hard to ignore. You looked into his eyes, a shiver running down your spine. He was looking at you, no, he was practically admiring you.

"Thank you," his voice was soft. You realized you hadn't spoken in a while.

"Uh... Wh-Why?" you stuttered, unable to hold his gaze.

And you thought he was the only one who looked away? Ha ha.

His fingers traced down your arm, intertwining with yours, hands fitting together like puzzle pieces.

"Just..." he paused, as if searching for the right words.

"I don't know. Just for something." He speaks quickly, shaking his head.

You were surely confused but you were more nervous than confused. You were also a bit flustered and partly mesmerized and also excited...

What were you even feeling?

"... Lately," he began again but then stopped himself.

"Lately what?" You ask, voice basically a whisper.

"Lately..." He again paused before he finally uttered, "Lately... I want to kiss you, " taking your breath away.

He continued, "To be more than friends. Waking up next to you... Yeah... Thank you for making me a mess."

Silence hung in the air. You could feel your heart thumping against your ribs.

Were you dreaming?

Was he possibly drunk?

"I didn't ruin it, did I?" he winced, perhaps from the pain in his jaw or the vulnerability of his confession, and he closed his eyes, resting his forehead against yours. He's silently praying. You can look through his expression.

"No," you finally add and he sighs almost instantly. It was like he'd been holding his breath. He also looked a bit sleepy, almost drowsy.

And then, you were kissing him. Gently, delicately. He tilted his head to the left when you tilted yours to the right, and he moaned softly into the kiss. He tries to push his tongue inside your mouth and you are quick to pull away.

"Not when you've got blood in your mouth," you chuckled, your breath coming out unevenly.

He snorted but smiled.

"Why don't we get some sleep?"

He was already yawning.

Typical Harrison.

You laughed again, planting small kisses on his cheeks and forehead as he pulled you down with him, enveloping you in a warm hug.

And soon enough, he was asleep.

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