Poppy/H.S

Chapter 26

I squint my eyes at the brightness that has so boldly entered the room where I'd decided to crash last night, the living room. Not having bought the blinds yet, the full moon shines right through the window. As I try to stretch myself, having slept in a very crouched position, I notice something is holding me back from moving. My tummy is feeling tight, just the way it usually feels when I have muscle cramps after working out. I frown when the feeling doesn't disappear, pulling the duvet away from my body.

No fucking way.

This cannot be happening.

Fuck.

A pair of tattooed arms are wrapped around my belly, holding me tight and blocking me from moving even an inch. The strength in Harry's hands doesn't allow me to escape from his grip on my tummy. His chest is pressed tightly against my back, and I can feel his chest gently rising. He breathes the air in in regular intervals and breathes it out shortly after, the cold air tickling my neck. Shivers erupt all over my body when he nuzzles his head further into the nook of my neck. Sighing, I cover my face with the duvet out of the embarrassment.

How the hell did we end up in this position?

I carefully look under the duvet, letting out a relieved sigh when I notice I still have my yesterday's clothes on. Nothing could have possibly happened last night, since the two of us are fully dressed. Maybe Harry was just too tired to climb up the stairs and join Poppy in my bedroom.

Fuck. Poppy's here. That's probably why Harry wanted to spend the night with me in the living room. He didn't want his daughter to see him drunk. That's acceptable.

I try to recall some memories from last night, happy that my mind is not fully blank. I remember us drinking red wine while watching Friends. God, I love Friends. A memory of us talking about our favourite pieces of poetry makes my smile. What is my smile freeze is the bet we'd made about the two of us getting married. I mean, there's no reason for me to freak out, right? We'd agreed to get married under the strict conditions of the magnolia blooming and the two us being single in our forties.

It's in longer than ten years. A lot of things can happen in ten years. By the time we're forty, he'll have forgotten about the little friendship the two of us had. There's not special me. He's got tons of friends, ones that are famous and more memorable. Who am I compared to them? I'm a lonely girl from Slovakia who has a boring job. I'm neither an actress nor a model. He can easily forget about me.

What if our friendship is only temporary? What he starts touring and the two of us won't see each other in months, even years? What is worse, what if he moves to the US for good because of work?

The thought of us not being in touch makes mine heart skip a beat, not in a good way. I can't imagine not having him in my life. I think I got way too touched to an unavailable person. He's grown way too close to my heart. I shouldn't have let this happen. I shouldn't have gone all in. I won't be able to take it if something happens.

I think I've started to see him in a different light and that thought scares me. I might like him way more than I'd like to admit.

I've never met a guy, not even a Slovak one, who would listen to me talk about my favourite Slovak authors with such adoration. I could tell that the story of Andrej and Marina caught Harry by heart. He's got such a romantic soul.

Having parents who understand the beauty of literature, reading different kinds of books and poems, is so rare these days. It's not just the teenagers who have stopped reading, it's mainly the adults. Being overwhelmed with work, I don't blame the parents for not having the time to open a book, but I blame them for not raising their kids with the love and adoration for literature that Harry has.