What Makes You Beautiful? | h.s.

33: two pieces

*Charli POV*

After another hour full of laughing fits, some to the point where I was gasping for air, the movie had ended.

I looked down to see where Harry had put the remote, and realized that at some point, I had brought my hand to Harry's head and was running my fingers through his hair. My body tensed up at realization, and I quickly pulled my hand away.

A soft hum left his mouth, "Why'd you stop?"

My eyes widened in shock when he spoke. I froze, not knowing what to say. I could feel his stare on me, and I dared myself not to look down.

"Charli?"

"I didn't realize I was doing it, sorry," I mumbled and reached for the remote, flipping through the menu and landing on 21 & Over. I haven't seen it in a while, and I had the sudden urge to watch it.

I dropped the remote on the bed, and folded my hands in my lap. His hand came up and took mine; bringing it back to his head, "Continue."

"What?"

"Please?" I felt his stare on me again, so I looked down. His eyes were pleading, and he jutted out his lower lip.

I shook my head and resumed my motions from before, gently running my fingers through his hair, watching as he sighed and closed his eyes.

I looked up at the screen to realize I'd missed the beginning. The guys were already at the bar, and Jeff Chang had just thrown a dart at Randy.

I could feel my eyes getting heavy when the buffalo went crazy at the bonfire, so I grabbed the remote and set a shut off timer for a half hour. I put the remote on the side table, and adjusted myself to be lying down on my stomach.

I turned my head to face Harry, seeing a smile on his lips. I couldn't help but smile back.

"Why are you staring at me?"

"I- uh. Shit. Sorry."

"It's because I'm so good looking, isn't it?" he laughed into the pillow.

"Yeah- what? No. You were smiling, I was just curious."

"Did you just say yeah?" he asked, peeking at me through one eye.

I buried my face in the pillow to cover the blush that was appearing. It was probably after four in the morning, and it was still dark out; but with the light from the TV, he could still be able to see it.

"You did! You think I'm hot!"

"You're crazy. I never said that, Harold."

"You didn't need to," he reached over and poked my side, causing a round of giggles to leave me.

"Harold, stop!"

"You know that that's not really my name, right?"

"Yeah. I just like to bug you with it," I said as I peeked over the pillow, seeing that he had turned his face away from me.

He rolled onto his side facing away from me, and I couldn't help but feel a little bit sad. So I slowly and gently inched my way towards him, stopping just a few inches away.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice full of curiosity.

I shrugged and wrapped an arm around his waist, holding on to one of his hands, "Sometimes I like to be big spoon."

He let out a quick laugh and laced our fingers together, "Sometimes I like to be little spoon."

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