bare [h.s.]

Wishes

Familiar faces of loved ones and friends smile sympathetically around me, like they've gathered for a charity case, and their awful harmonies
echo throughout the kitchen.
I force a smile on my lips as I watch
Harry's move to the tune of "Happy Birthday", his eyes never leaving mine.
If only he knew what was coming.

"Make a wish," my brother demands
impatiently, licking his pink lips at
the sight of cake and sugar.
I playfully push him away,
leaning down toward the eighteen
candles that burn brightly before me.

And I wonder what my wish is.
I previously thought that Harry was my wish; a rare one that came true.
But now, the flickering of fire reflects
in my pupils and I realize what
I have to wish for.
My eyelids shut slightly as my cheeks
puff out with a held breath, and
I feel Harry's large palms rest against my shoulders. I wonder if he can sense my tension as I blow most of the candles out in one try.
He laughs at my attempt and helps me finish the job, both of us nearly spitting on the cake in an effort
to distinguish each flame.

And like those candles, our flame must eventually burn out.

Before I can speak to him, Harry
indulges his finger into the white icing. My eyes widen as he smears the treat down the side of my cheek, smirking at his masterpiece.

"Do you want me to lick that off for you?" He says lowly as I reach in for a slice of cake.

"Never in your wildest dreams," I laugh too loudly, slamming the dessert into face.

"Oh, come on! You're wasting it,"
Niall shrieks from across the room,
where he stands beside Ally,
who watches me with a bright smile. Even she can tell I'm better with Harry, but they don't know my decision yet.

I hand Harry a towel to wipe his face,
and plant a kiss against his lips,
tasting the cake from his mouth.
"Can I speak to you privately?"

He's reluctant at first, clenching
the towel in his grip as if I just gave
him the worst news he's ever heard.
But then he nods, excusing us both
from the party. I lead him down the hall, up the stairs into the closest room I can find. It happens to be my brother, Zach's, room, and Harry is quick to make a joke of it.

"Doing the dirty in a twelve year old's room? You have some dark fetishes,"
his dimpled smile brings me warmth,
but I shake that feeling away and focus on the main point of this private meeting.

"Harry," I begin, pacing around the compact bedroom. "I've been thinking
a lot about my future and-"

He's oblivious, or at least pretends to be. His eyes scan the pictures adorning the painted walls as I slowly fall apart.

"Didn't know you had a Star Wars kink," his index traces the galactic movie poster, turning his back to me. "I'll be Duke Skywanker, and you, Jabba the Slu-"

My face flushes red with frustration.
"Will you listen to me for a second, Harry?" I speak louder than expected,
and he buries his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

"Lighten up, Saw. It's a party," he sighs suddenly when I press my lips into a thin line. "Is this about the icing incident?"

"It's not the cake, Harry," I groan, sitting on my brother's mattress. I softly pat the spot beside me, gesturing for him to take a seat. He follows, and I frown down at my feet. "I think I have to go."

"Go where?" He asks, confused. I find the courage to look up at him, and when I do, he notices I've begun to cry. I draw in a sharp breath, my voice altered by the cries threatening to escape my lips.

"I, uh." The words are harder to speak than I originally thought. I hold my hand out for him to take, so I can feel him with me when I tell him the truth.