prince in jeans

f i v e

Clutching the coffee cup in one hand, I stared out at the empty streets from the living room window.

Today morning had proved better than yesterday—a fog hung in the air and there was a cold breeze but other than that it was pleasant—and Elena and I had managed to get through breakfast without an argument.

Then she’d left, her heels clipping down the hall, her house key jingling in her hand as she exited the house to where Peyton was waiting in the car.

I’d spent the first hour of her absence studying up on medicine and then I’d taken a hot bath with Glade perched on the sink, blinking at herself in the mirror with her head cocked.

A young couple passed outside the house, grasping each other’s hands as they walked and laughed. A woman with greying hair stood in the garden beside ours, watering her plants and I watched as the door of the house opposite ours opened and Harry stepped out, long unruly hair covered with a bandanna as he held a mug in one hand.

He moved down the driveway towards the mailbox and my feet hurried out the front door almost automatically.

He looked up as I approached him and only then did I realise I was just in a thin t-shirt and sweats and already goose bumps were lifting on my arms from the cold.

“Hey,” I said, meeting his eyes and he gave me a small nod in greeting.

“Celeste.”

I followed his actions as he opened his mailbox and pulled out a sheaf of letters.

I sipped my coffee, shivering from the cold and Harry raised an eyebrow at me.

“Are you sure you’re…” He cleared his throat, looking at me. “You’re not cold?”

“Freezing actually.”

My response caused Harry’s lips to turn upward in a small smile. “Well, shouldn’t you be going back then? You’ve got nothing to do?”

I shook my head as he raised his mug to his lips.

“Elena’s out for a meeting and I’ve already finished my daily studying so…” I looked down at my feet as I heard him chuckle.

“Ever read ‘Demon’s Diary’?”

His question startled me into looking up at him to check if he was joking but his eyes were the usual grave.

“No…”

“Then that should give you something to do today. Come in for a minute.” His voice was low as he turned and led me up the driveway.

We passed his black Camaro and the inside of his house was much like Elena’s—only his had a mysterious ambiance and almost every wall was lined with shelves of books.

Harry tossed his letters onto the long oak table in the hall which was littered with papers and files and then gestured for me to follow him into the living room.

I waited as he strode to the shelf in the furthest corner and ran his finger along the spines of the books before stopping on a maroon hard covered one and pulling it out.

He tossed it to me and I caught it with one hand, feeling the rough material beneath my fingers.

“Is it any good?” I asked, turning it over in my hand while taking a drink from my mug.

He lifted a shoulder. “Better books out there but let’s get you started with this one.”

“I like your place,” I said, sipping my coffee and Harry copied.