Heat - Harry Styles

five

The two of us were wrapped in silence once again. It was almost dark now as the sun was slowly sinking beneath the water. Through the quiet summer air, you could hear the waves sloshing against the hull of the boat.

"I really want to kiss you right now," Harry confessed suddenly.

I quickly turned my head to the right and looked into his eyes. At that moment, in the heat of the Charleston summer, I wanted to kiss him too.

"We shouldn't," I said, my voice barely louder than a whisper.

He nodded and took another sip of his drink. I didn't take my eyes off of him. His pink lips wrapped around the rim of the glass so nicely. They looked so soft... so gentle. His jawline became even more defined as he swallowed the golden liquid, almost making me change my mind about the kiss then and there.

"You stare a lot for someone who doesn't want to kiss me," Harry jested.

"It's not that I don't want to," I admitted. Harry raised an eyebrow at this, signaling that I had confused the living daylights out of him.

"Of course I want to kiss you," I added. "I mean look at you. You're like a model or something." I mentally cringed from my sudden confession but continued to talk as the alcohol was making me honest. "You're such a nice guy. I just don't want to kiss you if I have no intention of dating you. I don't think it would be fair to either of us."

He shrugged, "How can you know that you don't want it before you try it?"

I bit my lip and gazed out onto the ocean again. He kind of had a point. The last time I'd had a guy that I was even remotely interested in as a boyfriend was when I was fifteen. I hadn't so much as dipped my toes into the dating pool since then.

"Look," Harry said, interrupting my thoughts, "I'm the last guy to ever pressure anyone into anything, but all I'm saying is that it might do you some good to be open-minded. Don't write me off yet."

I nodded and cracked a small smile as I turned my blue eyes back to his green ones. We looked at each other for what I'm sure was just a few fleeting moments, though it seemed much longer. The sky was now dark, and Harry's brown hair was rustling in the summer breeze.

"I won't write you off," I spoke, "but you have to promise to be patient with me. We're friends for now. And friends don't kiss each other."

"Friends don't kiss each other," he confirmed.

I sighed in contentment and lay my body back down on the sofa. In the newfound silence, I was abundantly aware of the feeling of Harry's arm grazing against my own. Even this mild form of physical contact with Harry felt so good. I was craving more of his touch. In my drunken state, I slowly turned a bit to my side, nuzzling up against his chest and allowing his arm to drape over my shoulders.

"Do friends cuddle?" He asked as a smirk pulled across his face.

"Friends cuddle."

-

-

"I can't draw you if you keep making faces like that!" I scolded.

After a long while of star gazing, Harry and I made our way downstairs to the main cabin of the boat. He had been pestering me incessantly for the past half hour wanting me to draw him. He stuck out his tongue and crossed his eyes upon hearing my comment.

"You could make a preacher cuss," I mumble under my breath. "Now hold still," I command as I grab his chin, straightening out his face.

"Yes ma'am," he mimics my southern accent.