Crush Culture {{Harry Lewis - W2S}}

✮ TWENTY NINE ✮

Mila's pov

"Can you close the blinds?" Freeze groaned as he pulled the blanket back over his head, "it's too bright" he complained.

"The blinds are closed," she told him, smirking as she looked at the windows, the blinds very much still up.

"Don't play with me Mel, close the blinds" he didn't even move.

"Nah mate," Harry chuckled, "blinds are already closed" his eyes flickered towards Milas, a smirk on his lips.

It was a small joy, annoying a man with a hangover, but it was enough to satisfy herself and Harry.

"Close the fucking blinds you bellend" he pulled the blanket closer, only making them laugh more.

"No need to get aggressive" Mila smiled, walking to the window and pulling down the blinds.

"Thank you," he sighed when he peaked out from the blanket, "now get out"

Mila let out a light laugh as she made eye contact with Harry, his face showing that he too enjoyed annoying his friend.

It took Cal throwing two pillows and threatening to steal the frying pan and use that, for the two to finally leave, giggling their way down the stairs and into the kitchen.

"We need to make lunch, that was my way of getting out of hiking" she let him know, pulling open the fridge

"I'm hopeless at cooking," Harry told her, resting his hands on the island countertop.

"Good job you have me," She smiled brightly, "A chef" she nodded, faking a smug smile before laughing.

"A chef? Wow, lucky me" he coughed lightly as he said it, like he regretted it instantly, "show me what you've got, I'll be like...Mary Berry"

Mila turned quickly, raising an eyebrow towards the blond boy.

"Mary Berry?" He nodded, "Not Paul Hollywood, the obvious answer, no you go for Mary Berry" She shook her head at his confused face.

"Wait no, I'm Paul Hollywood" he tried to backtrack, shaking his head violently.

"Okay, Mary Berry, let me show you my famous chicken and bacon pasta" he shook his head at her with a small smile.

"Show away" he nodded, staring at the back of her head as she lit the stove, starting to boil the pasta.

They hadn't spoken about the kiss, at all.

Even straight after it happened they acted as if it was completely normal, not wanting to make anything awkward between them. But somehow it had the opposite effect. By dancing around the subject it's like they had put a wall around it, a wall made of paper that would surely drop at any point.

The night before had already torn through the outer layer, with glances and secret touches, but somehow they had floated back together, this time with a giant sign telling them to stop testing the paper's durability.

"Now we wait" she spoke, stirring the heavy cream in with the other ingredients, to be completely honest Harry had no clue how she had made it so quickly, "for the pasta"

He nodded, making his way towards to couch, flopping down and turning on the large TV, flipping between channels before settling on a nature documentary, David Attenborough's lulling voice flowing through the Villa.

"David Attenborough, almost as iconic as Mary Berry" she teased him some more, sitting on the couch next to him, closer to his side than she intended but neither complained.

"'Almost'!" He nearly shouted, his eyes widening, "David Attenborough's a national treasure, I will weep the day that man dies" he pointed to the TV, unintentionally pointing towards an elephant in labour, "Well, not that- you know what I meant" he stuttered, making Mila giggle.

"If I never get to meet David Attenborough, life's gone wrong" she agreed, "but Mary Berry can make a mean apple pie"

"Apple pie?" He raised an eyebrow, "you'd pass on David Attenborough, an icon, for apple pie"

"I like apple pie" she shrugged.

Instead of responding with a sarcastic comment, as he had been doing, Harry only looked into her eyes. Staring deeply as they sat in silence, neither one of them wanting to break their small connection.

Mila didn't realise how close they had gotten, his arm behind her, resting on the back of the sofa. Her head, which had previously been leaning on his shoulder, was now picked up to see him.

She didn't miss Harry's eyes flickering down to her lips as he moved even closer, she could feel his breath on her lips they were that close.

Then he made the final move. Leaning forward and connecting their lips, his hand moved to the back of her neck, deepening the kiss as he did.

Before they knew it Harry had pushed her back, holding himself above Mila. His lips attacked her neck in a way that made nothing else matter.

Not the fact that Cal was upstairs, or the smell of smoke, or that Lucy had told her just this morning about her feeling for Harry.

Wait...smoke.

"Harry," she started, the hand in his hair stopped moving, "do you smell-"

Suddenly he jumped back, falling to the floor out of fright as a loud, continuous beeping sound came from the kitchen.

"Turn it off!" Cal shouted from upstairs, the fire alarm obviously putting fright in his bones - shown when he didn't even come downstairs to check.

Mila shook her head, smiling down at Harry who still sat on the floor, before getting up and grabbing a kitchen towel and wafting it in the air underneath the fire alarm whilst Harry turned off the stove, holding up the frying pan which held, now burnt, chicken and bacon pasta.

"Mary Berry wouldn't burn pasta"

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Written: 6th January 2021
Published: 8th January 2021
Edited: 19th June 2023
David Attenborough is my celebrity crush, no joke :/
Horrible chapter but we move with the writers block