The Art of Affection

3-

A few days go by, and the stress of my classes is more than enough to keep my mind occupied. I'm trying to organize my schedule for tomorrow in my head as I unlock the door to my apartment. I'm tired from working on my assignment for my Figures class, before ultimately, I gave up and worked oil pastels for a much easier project.

"Welcome home, Gorgeous!" Harry is sitting at the kitchen island when I walk in, startling me. There's a black laundry basic with neatly folded clothes piled up inside sitting on the couch.

"What are you doing here?" I ask in exasperation once I can breathe again.

"Some fuckwad broke the washer at the house, and your lovely roommate graciously offered me yours until its fixed." He smiles widely, showing rows of perfectly white teeth. "I brought this for said roommate, but since she isn't home, it's for you." He slides a coffee cup across the counter towards me.

"So, if Jas isn't home, how did you get in?" I ask, dropping my bag in exchange for the hot cup. Thankfully I look at the order before drinking it. "This has hazelnut, and I'm allergic to nuts." I slide it back towards him.

"Russ's spare key." He reveals, holding it up. "Anyway, I was hoping to run into you." He takes his phone from his jean pocket and then slides it over towards me.

I'm wondering what he possibly could want to show me, but I'm more annoyed than anything. It's just like Jas to have guests over while she's not home to deal with them. And I'm a mess. The bun I've tried to keep my hair secured in keeps loosening and slipping lower, tugging painfully at my hair. I have paint and oil color all over my hands and arms, probably on my face, too. I just want to take a hot shower and eat whatever cold dinner I can salvage from the fridge in peace.

On Harry's phone, a health portal is open. Bold black letters reveal that he is completely negative for a full STD panel.

"What is this?" I ask anyway.

"The information you requested." He says causally. "I'm clean." Again, he flashes his smile.

"You actually got tested?" I scoff, handing his phone back. Maybe he's more of a lunatic than I thought. Truthfully, I hadn't really thought more about that conversation in his room, having chalked it all up to horny, drunk rambling.

"Course I did. I want you to be completely comfortable with the situation."

I grimace. He's making it sound like a business deal or something.

"We weren't being serious about any of that." I scoff as I bend over to look in the fridge. There's nothing good (of course not, we're college students, we're not buying groceries), and when I turn around, I'm pretty sure I've caught him looking at my ass.

"I was being serious." Harry argues. "I am being serious. I want to help you out. I like you, and you're a nice girl. Plus, I've been wanting to fuck you for a long time, anyway."

I will myself not to be flattered and turn to face him. It's hard to believe I'm actually having a conversation with him about a causal sex agreement, in my kitchen, but here we are on a Tuesday night.

"Are you sure?" I ask. "I meant it when I said I don't want you sleeping with anyone else. I'm not going to change my mind about that."

He shrugs. "I didn't ask you to change your mind, did I?"

"I don't know. How would this even work?"

He stands and comes to stand beside me. I knew he was tall but I guess I didn't realize how tall until just now, when I'm picturing what our bodies would look like lined up, until I start to wonder would I have to stand on my toes to kiss him or would he bend down? And then I have to grimace again. This really couldn't work.