PULSE [H.S]

100

"I love you not only for what you are, but for what I am when I am with you." — Elizabeth Barrett Browning

It's my birthday.

I've always hated my birthday, and this year is no different. Turning twenty-four reminds me that I'm getting closer and closer to 30. It's a daunting thought that I would rather not be reminded of every year.

When I was younger, I looked forward to my birthday. My mom would get the supplies for the three of us to make ice cream sundaes, and we would eat ice cream until our stomachs hurt from all of the sugar. It was the highlight of my year, especially when I saw how happy it made Rae.

It's the one thing my mom always got right. Even if she was struggling with her addiction or using at the time, she always gave us our ice cream parties. She always made our birthdays feel special.

Harry insisted on taking me somewhere this evening, even though I told him I didn't need anyone to do anything for me. If I had it my way, we would pretend today was just another normal day.

We're in the car now, with Harry cruising down the freeway. He won't tell me where we are going, which makes me slightly nervous. I don't mind surprises, but he's had a cute smile on his face all day that's really been throwing me off.

"Put this on," Harry says from beside me, his deep voice echoing through the car.

I look over at him, and he's holding up one of his black bandanas that he occasionally wears. I furrow my eyebrows at the piece of cloth and say, "I can't really pull off the whole bandana look."

"As a blindfold," he laughs. I blink at him. He holds the bandana out further, putting it right in front of my face. He says, "Put it on."

I take the bandana, feeling worried. I say, "You're serious?"

"Mhmm," he hums with a smirk.

I reluctantly put the bandana over my eyes, tying it behind my head with a knot. I adjust the fabric so I can't see anything but darkness, and my mind starts to race with all of the possibilities of where we might be going.

I mumble, "I feel silly."

"You look silly too," he teases. I roll my eyes at him, but then quickly realize he can't see my eyes through the bandana.

The past week has gone by really quickly, and it's been a great week in terms of Harry and me getting close again. We haven't been able to keep our hands off of each other, and with every day that passes, I start to give into him more and more.

Honestly, I'm okay with it.

I know that I can trust him, despite everything that transpired that led to our parting before. I can trust him, and I know it's true. I feel it in the deepest parts of my soul. I trust him with everything, and I love him with everything, too.

I haven't told him any of this, and we haven't talked about it, but I know he sees the change in me and in us. I'm not guarded around him anymore, and I've dropped all of those walls that were separating us.

I'm happy.

But right now, I'm nervous.

Harry puts his hand on my thigh, the contact catching me by surprise since I can't see anything. I jump, and I hear a little laugh leave his mouth. The feeling of his hand on my leg makes my stomach erupt with butterflies.

I ask, "Are we almost there?"

"Almost," he replies.

The feeling of his hand so close to my center is driving me mad, and it's all intensified since my vision is cut off and my other senses are heightened. The sneaky bastard must know this is killing me because his hand slowly inches further up my thigh.