Desolate - h.s. ✓

° fourteen °

     Harry decided he was fine to drive. I didn't think it was a good idea, but he swore it would be fine. Somehow, someway, we got to his house safely. I was sure in the morning I would be shocked at the fact that I had been in a car with a very stoned, possibly drunk boy. But, the decisions I seemed to be making weren't that smart to begin with. We headed inside his house, Harry picking me up again. I wasn't used to anyone really picking me up. Angelo had a few times, but it was when I was also chubbier, so he had never really done it that often. Though, my thoughts dispersed when Harry headed up the stairs, a giggle leaving my lips when he stumbled slightly.

"Shut up."

"No, you," I giggled.

"I'll drop you."

Instantly, my grip on him tightened. Harry chuckled softly, my back meeting a door carefully. He soon opened the door, setting me down. I stood in the dark room, Harry locking the door behind him before turning on what appeared to be a desk lamp. Nothing looked different from the last time I was in here, my eyes focusing on Harry.

"So, what do we do now?"

"You cuddle with me so I can sleep," he stated.

My eyebrows pulled in, Harry opening a drawer in his desk. He was quick to empty his pockets, the boy taking off his flannel. He was left in a black T-shirt and jeans, Harry taking off his Vans as well. I set my cardigan on his desk chair, watching as Harry walked over to his dresser. He grabbed a pair of sweatpants, throwing them over his shoulder. My cheeks flushed when he turned around, Harry raising an eyebrow.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing."

"Why are you blushing?"

"I just ... well ... you're just really pretty."

"Pretty? I'm not a bitch, I'm not—"

"Shh, shh," I shook my head. "You're just really nice to look at, that's all."

He rolled his eyes, undoing his jeans. I shut my eyes as he actually changed, Harry laughing quietly. He told me when he was finished changing, and I opened my eyes to see a fully clothed Harry, only he was now wearing sweatpants. Though to my surprise, he pulled his shirt off, setting it on his bed.

"Arms up."

"What?"

"Arms up. You're not sleeping in this."

My cheeks burned with his words. I didn't really think any of this through. Of course, I didn't want to go home. Cuddling sounded really nice right now, and I honestly wanted to hold onto Harry in anyway that I could. It was simply that I didn't like the idea of him seeing me half naked.

"I've seen you in a swim suit, there's no difference. Maybe a little more skin, but that's fine."

"Well, it's just .... my bra and underwear are a little more personal."

"Nicole, let me just—"

"They're both lace. I don't want you seeing me like that right—"

"Shit, you're so fucking hot."

My face was actually on fire. I turned around, pressing the backs of my palms to my face. It was a few seconds before Harry actually reached for me, his fingers tilting my chin up. At first, I avoided his eyes, but when he had me look at him, I smiled some. It was clear he liked me a little bit, Harry chuckling when I tried to pull away.

"Why have I been such a dick to you? You're literally the cutest fucking thing."

"Stop, stop, I feel too warm."