Sweet Tooth [HS]

FIFTY THREE

The rest of the day Max and Harry spent in bed. They curled up around each other, fitting together in that jigsaw way they did. His knee slotted in the bend of hers, his chin resting in that soft space where her neck met her shoulder, and his arms wound around her body like vines of ivy. It was like he was growing around her, like they had been like this, like this tangle, this knot of body parts and beating hearts forever.

And Max found it so strange to look and to hold Harry's arm and claim it as hers. For her to run her fingers up his bicep, across his collarbones, tap against the heart inside his chest that now belonged to her.

"Does this make me your boyfriend?" Harry had whispered earlier, as they lay spent and panting beside the piano.

Max had shrugged. "Do you want to be?"

"Well no one else is touching you, baby. You just told me you're all mine," he had brushed a hand through her hair. Smirked. "All mine."

And Max had laughed and scrunched up her nose and her cheeks had gone blazing red because yes- she was aware of what had just happened, but no- she did not want to talk about it.

And Harry loved how she was like that. How she was so dark, so desiring- how she could ignite this feeling inside him, like a gnawing sensation, that made him animal, rendered him out of control. But, yet, she could be like this, too. Could become so bashful and so embarrassed and so gentle and so sweet. Could just blink and her violet eyes returned to deep brown as she got all flustered by talking about the dirty, devilish things she'd done only moments before.

An angel. A devil.

God.

It was all these sides of her, all these parts of Mackenzie Sweet that he could now explore and discover and study.

She fascinated him- he wanted to know everything, all the things, about her. Count it up on his fingers, recite her, write essays on her.

He wanted to learn her forever.

"Are you asking me in your stupid way to be your girlfriend, then, Harry?" She giggled, adjusting her head on his lap.

"No," he had paused. "You're more than that. I want you to be mine and I want to be yours. I am yours. Every part of me. I don't think calling you my girlfriend would really change that, you know?"

Max smiled. "I know." Then she bit her lip, "And you know I'm all yours, too. Every bit of me."

And after that Harry had whisked her off the floor and then onto the couch, into the shower then onto the bed, where they had been laying for what must have been hours now.

Max's eyes jumped open.

Fuck.

Hours.

"What time is it?" Max suddenly jolted from her thoughts, dropping Harry's forearm that she'd been examining to dart her eyes around for her phone.

"I mean it's dark outside now," Harry yawned. "You OK, baby?"

He brought a warm palm up to stroke her back, but Max didn't collapse into the feeling.

All she was thinking about was Lexie and how she missed work today and her radio silence and fuck. Fuck!

She hopped out of the four poster bed, almost tripping over her own feet as she found her phone in the other room, tossed carelessly on the chaise longe.