Cover Your Tracks [HS][2014 VERSION]

45. Clairvoyant

"This is your life, there's no way to run from it. The doubt in your brain, or the pain in your stomach . . ."

The next morning, my alarm is not a clock but a pair of lips ghosting along my neck. Although pleasurable, the sensation tickles at my skin and I can't help but squirm and lean my ear into my shoulder to block the contact. Upon hearing an amused chuckle, I groan and turn over. My inhuman sounds of displeasure are soon muffled by a pillow.

Harry sings my name whilst running his hands down my back. His fingers dip beneath my shirt, warming my hips as he squeezes the skin there. The rough, calloused pads then travel upward along my bare skin before tapering off and moving to brush my hair off of my neck.

"Hey, wake up. You have to go to school."

I let out an even louder groan at the reminder of my forthcoming demise. He chuckles and I bury myself deeper into the mattress, wrapping the covers tightly around my body. He tries to rip the sheets away from me but I clutch them to my chest like a child.

"Go away."

My response is laced with annoyance but Harry isn't having it. The mattress dips as he comes down to hover above me, spreading the large expanse of his palms on either side of my body. His hips pin me down to the mattress, holding me in place.

"Oh, baby. You don't mean that, do you?" he inquires whilst bringing his mouth down to my ear. His tone is mocking, almost. He knows I crave the way his breath crawls along my skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. It's obvious that his touch has always left me feeling powerless; I can never seem to get enough of him.

I shiver upon feeling his cold mouth press against the back of my neck, just above the neckline of my shirt. He lazily drags his upper lip along my goosebump-ridden skin and exhales. I fist a pillow between my fingers and try to remain as still as possible, wishing to prolong this unusual wake-up alarm. The truth is, I've always been a heavy sleeper. Ever since my mother died, I have experimented with a variety of alarm clocks, testing which one was most effective.

And out of them all, this had to be my favorite.

I remain lying on my front and turn my head to look at him over my shoulder. My tired eyes hone in on him like a camera focusing on its subject before everything suddenly becomes vivid and clear. Dimples, curls and iridescent green eyes staring back at me. The smile on my face soon matches the lazy one on his.

"Good morning." His voice is deep and raspy as ever. The gravelly tone is like his touch, rough and soothing all at once. "Did you sleep well?"

He tries to make casual conversation but I know there's a hidden meaning behind his words. He wants to make sure that I slept well, both physically and mentally. Last night's events had taken a toll on me. He wants to make sure that he put my mind at ease, even though he hadn't comforted me with answers to my burning questions. He had merely coaxed me to sleep with the lullaby of a promise that I can only hope he will keep.

I nod my head wordlessly. Doubt clouded my head throughout the night, but Harry was like the sun; he shone through the murky haze and gave me warmth and comfort when I needed it most. But, the sun can often be blinding.

He stares at me for a moment before crawling out of the bed, leaving me to lie alone in the dark sheets. His hand is offered to me and I take it without hesitation. My body is gently lifted from the bed, and then unexpectedly pulled into his chest. All of the air is knocked from my lungs upon crashing into him.

I find myself at a loss for words as he dips his head to peer down at me. His eyes are so vibrant in the morning light; a light, iridescent green highlighted with bright specks of yellow.