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     After I ran, showered, and ate the following evening, I was stuck doing homework. Math sucked. Or, it didn't suck, but it was a lot of effort for something I was not going to need when I got older. After about an hour of math, I made flash cards for my psych class, then annotated another poem. It was followed by taking notes based on something my biology teacher had created. Sitting on my bed, I saw that it was about one in the morning, my eyes widening when I was pretty sure I heard my mother say my father's name, drawing it out.

"Oh my god, why?" I scoffed quietly, getting out of my bed quickly.

Picking up a sweatshirt, I pulled on leggings, and a pair of shoes. Ethan wasn't home, per usual, so I figured they thought I was sleeping at this point. Heading downstairs with my phone, I grabbed a key, walking out into the night, and shutting the door behind me. Taking a deep breath, I found myself texting the one person I didn't think I would, hoping he would at least respond.

My parents are fucking, can I come over?

Harry: lmao are they really?

Yes

Harry: hahaha is Ethan up?

Idk, he isn't home

Harry: hmm

So, can I come over?

Harry: you've caught me at a bad time

I'M SO SORRY EW

Harry: chill tf out, give me like five more minutes, I'll be finished

STILL EW

Harry: I don't want to hear it, I'm sure you touch yourself

STOP TALKING

JUST DO YOU

I'll be there in five

Harry: sounds great

Taking slightly longer than normal to walk to Harry's, I found myself standing at the front door. I knew Ethan would sneak into Harry's house to smoke weed through his bedroom window, but there was no way that I was going to willingly climb up to the second story. Texting him that I was here, he didn't respond. I was worried that he was still in the middle of taking care of himself, however, the door opened a minute later, a shirtless Harry answering.

"Did you wash your hands?"

"Just for you."

I couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not, but when he wiped his hand on my sleeve, it was clear that he had. Rolling my eyes, he shut the door, locking it behind us. I took my shoes off, following him quietly up the stairs. Harry sat on his bed, his room smelling of cologne more than I was expecting. I wondered if he had sprayed the room just for me, but I honestly didn't care that much.

"How long do they usually fuck?" he asked.

"I have no clue, I'm not up when they fuck."

Harry chuckled, letting me lay on his bed. He looked at me oddly, so I turned my head to face the other way. Though to my surprise, he laid beside me, pulling the blankets over us easily.

"I'm not sleeping here," I stated firmly.

"They could go at it all night long," he murmured. "Who knows? You don't."

Desolate - h.s. ✓Where stories live. Discover now