bare [h.s.]

Drive

Harry lightly taps his fingers against
the steering wheel to the beat of
the song that sounds from the radio
and echoes throughout the car softly.
I wrap one arm around his shoulder,
my fingers swirling his loose curls
around my skin.

"Harry," I whisper as night falls on us.
The clock on the dashboard flashes
a late hour, but I'm relieved my parents
are comfortable with me staying with him. "I want to give you all of me."

He glances over with a playful
grin tugging at the corners of his lips.
"You're already all I need, love."

I shake my head, my hand pulling
one of his hand's tight grip off the wheel. I gently press a longing kiss against the top of his hand,
then place it on my chest,
directly above my heart.

"I want to give myself to you.
I want you to know that
I'm willing to push away that
memory of my first, awful time.
I'm willing to open myself up to you,
to trust you, to love you."

He stares at the road, nodding mostly
to himself all the while. When we turn onto his street, he finally meets my gaze.

"We don't have to do this," he says
sincerely, putting the car in park.
"I know how you feel about me
without doing this."

I lean my body over the seat until
our lips are mere inches away,
and we are taking in the same breaths.
"Please, Harry,
let me show you how I feel."