Losers |H.S|

Chapter 33

Posting Medicine again cause you'll know why, and also *Medicine supremacy*

My mind still couldn't conceive the trick fate played us, and brought me and Harry back together.

Normally, I'm not a person that believes in those types of situations. I always assume they're coincidences, but I couldn't neglect the phenomenon taking place in front of my eyes. If I tried to think about it and justify it, I gave myself a headache every damn time. The way we met again in a different continent, after all these years, was simply uncanny.

Harry was a literal dream. He was so caring and sweet towards me that I couldn't begin to fathom how those same strong arms that held me to sleep every night and brought me so much pleasure, were capable of causing such an amount of pain in his past. I still had some difficulty digesting all that information he poured on me a week ago, but I realized that it didn't matter to me. I simply didn't care what he had to do back then, as long as he treated me right, which he did.

He was so unimaginably perfect, that everytime I woke up next to him, I'd consider the fact that he might be a figment of my imagination. But then he'd open his beautiful emerald eyes and shower me with passionate kisses, whispering to my ear sweet nothings with that hoarse, deep voice of his, reminding me that he was in fact very much real.

I was falling for him so hard and fast that it mortified me. I've never felt the way I feel for him. It was like he brought me hell and heaven altogether. My body was in literal pain anytime I wasn't around him, and my stomach would do cartwheels just with a simple smile of his. I was addicted and doomed. I could tell that he was falling for me too, I could feel his heart thumping wildly in his chest every time he held me in his arms, and I noticed how he'd just stared at me laid on the bed, while I was getting ready for work. But I wasn't sure it was at the extent of my feelings for him.

One thing was for sure; we couldn't keep our hands away from each other, it was like they were perfectly matched magnets. However, since he fucked me senseless onto his bed a week ago, after introducing me to those hooks on his wall, we hadn't been able to be this intimate again. Every time something would come up, just on time we were ready to lose ourselves to each other, that being a phone call or an emergency situation that ruined the mood.

One night, as I was ready to close the bar and go to his apartment, while he was waiting for me outside with the ignition of his bike running, after teasing the fuck out of me the whole damn day, Rita popped of Layla's office, asking me to stay and have a drink with her.

Of course I couldn't deny her, I was already feeling like the worst friend walking on planet earth. So I stayed with her, texting Harry to go home without me, which earned me a text, full of angry and crying emojis, accompanied by the words 'I guess I'm fucking my own hand again, thinking of your burning hot cunt around my cock' that made my breath stuck in my throat and my lower stomach clench just by reading it. That smirky bastard and his dirty mouth.

But I had to restrain myself and stay back with Rita, because I really missed our endless conversations over full glasses of vodka cranberries, and I wanted to catch up with her so badly. I had so much to tell her and I'm sure she had quite a lot to share with me also. Needless to say that we were talking until dawn that night, covering only the basics.

Standing inside the bar now, I was observing her's and Logan's dynamic. It astounded me how they already acted like an old married couple, actually believing that they were keeping it a secret. Bringing her words to the surface of my mind, made a silent cackle escape my lips.

"So we're kinda a thing ya know, but I don't know exactly what yet. Bitch you have to keep it to yourself. I mean it. Not telling anyone, not even mister locks. Promise", she said to me pointing her finger to my chest.