Sanctuary [h.s.]

Chapter Thirteen (*)

"You put your hands under my shirt

Undid my bra and said these words

'Darling, you're so pretty, it hurts'"

***

The first Saturday of June had rolled in, bringing with it the promise of summer in the city. Olivia and I had spent the day together, indulging in one of our favourite pastimes—shopping for clothes. The bustling streets of London had been our playground, filled with the hum of conversations, the distant sound of street performers, and the vivid displays of fashion in every window we passed. By the time we made it back home, our arms were laden with bags, each filled with the treasures we'd discovered.

As the night crept toward midnight, we found ourselves nestled in the comfort of our living room. A movie played on the television, casting flickering shadows across the room. Olivia, exhausted from the day's adventures, quickly succumbed to the soothing lull of the film and drifted off to sleep, her head nestled against the armrest of the couch. I glanced at her peaceful form and marvelled at how serene she looked, completely unaware of the world around her.

I, however, was wide awake, a rarity at this hour. I could only blame Harry for this newfound nocturnal energy. His presence in my life had turned my routine upside down, our late-night conversations and escapades stretching my evenings into the early hours of the morning. His charm and allure made time seem to slip away unnoticed, and the effect lingered even when he wasn't around. I glanced at the clock, noting it was near midnight, and sighed softly. It was becoming clear that my schedule was bending to his, and I wasn't entirely sure how I felt about it.

My phone rang, its insistent buzzing pulling me from the half-hearted attention I had been giving the movie. The soft light of the screen illuminated my face in the dim room, but I didn't bother to check the caller ID. I had a strong suspicion about who it might be.

"Hello?" I sang, letting my voice carry a playful note.

"Eleanooor," Harry whined, dragging out my name in a way that made my smile widen.

"Harryyy," I mocked back in the same tone, unable to hide the amusement in my voice.

"Where are you?" he asked, his curiosity evident.

"I'm at home. What's up?" I replied, my fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns onto the couch's fabric, the soft texture grounding me in the moment.

"Well, I've been thinking about you endlessly, and I can't wait another moment to see you again," Harry said, his words smooth and earnest.

I rolled my eyes, but the smile on my face was undeniable. I bit my tongue lightly, feeling the warmth rise to my cheeks. "I'd like to see you again too."

"Can I see you tonight?" he asked without a second's hesitation.

I leaned my head back onto the couch, feeling a mix of exasperation and excitement. "You know I hate going out so late."

He chuckled, the sound causing a flutter in my chest. "Are you really going to make me beg?" he teased, his voice laced with a playful smile.

I laughed, the sound soft and genuine. "Where do you wanna meet?"

"My place," he said, surprising me with his straightforward answer.

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. Harry had never invited me to his before. I had no idea what to expect.

"Okay," I agreed, curiosity and anticipation mingling within me. He quickly rattled off his address before we exchanged farewells and the line went dead.