Speak |h.s. a.u.|

Chapter Thirty-Five

             Annabelle was never the type of person to be super touchy-feely with anyone, especially boys. She always sighed in annoyance when anyone would try to hug her, especially her parents. Her grandmother was really the only person she would enjoy being with and talking to and hugging. Her grandma gave the best hugs, for a grandma. She quickly learned that Harry gave the best hugs, for anyone. She knew that no matter where they were, what they were doing, or how they were feeling, she could stop everything and hug Harry and he would instantly hug back, making all of her worries and annoyances leave her mind and fill the empty space around them for the few moments that he clung to her small body as if their lives depended on it. Annabelle still wasn't the type of person to constantly touch people or want to be touched or talked to, but everyone had an exception for Harry, especially Annabelle. She knew she was very lucky to have him around, whether he was hugging and kissing her, holding her hand, or just sitting in the same room as her.

Harry had always been the touchy-feely type of person. He was always super friendly and sweet to anyone and everyone he met. He was a baby when it came to his mom, he would do anything for his mother. He was constantly trying to please her in everything he did. He loved his sister, even though he pretended not to like her at all. He was a protective little brother and always had Gemma and Anne's back.

Annabelle, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. Her parents constantly annoyed her and made her want to rip her ears off. She never did anything to please her parents, she wanted them to displeased with all of her actions.

If you think about it, Harry and Annabelle were nothing alike when it came to their families and their actions towards other people. They seemed like that odd couple, where they were both attractive and mysterious, but didn't seem like they belonged together. Everyone would expect Harry to end up with a hot blonde, Annabelle with an emo kid that wears too much guyliner. They somehow fit perfectly, though. Harry was patient with her and she was kind to Harry. Annabelle had a large heart and was very compassionate toward everyone and everything, except her family. It's kind of messed up, but it makes perfect sense (just like Harry and Annabelle dating).

When they got back to the hotel from eating dinner and going to a few random shops, Annabelle was more than ready to go to sleep. She almost fell asleep on Harry's shoulder (again) in the backseat of Anne's car on the way back. Harry wished she would have fell asleep, just so he would have to carry her upstairs and see her adorable eyes open when he laid her down on the couch and told her she had to get changed for bed.

She held the strap of her suitcase, whining as she dragged it over to the bed. Harry noticed her laziness and lifted the suitcase onto the bed and unzipped it for her. She grabbed a pair of sleeping shorts and laid her little teddy bear on the bed. She couldn't sleep without it, even if Harry were there to cuddle her all night. Harry's suitcase was opened and left unattended right beside hers, so she sneakily grabbed his black t-shirt and changed into it and her shorts before he came back into the bedroom.

"Do you want- hey, that's my shirt!" He tugged the bottom of the black cotton hanging from her body towards him. She laughed, shutting her eyes and leaning her head onto his firm, warm chest. "That's okay. You look better in it than I ever will, baby." Of course she blushed, not only at the nickname, but at the compliment as well. He always had a new nickname for her, whether it were "love," or "baby." She had yet to discover any new nicknames, but always looked forward to hearing them for the first, second, third time.

"Do you want some tea?" Harry spoke as they walked into the small kitchen area. She shook her head and he poured a cup. "Come on, I made it just for you!" He said, the cheeriness in his voice making Annabelle wonder how he was even still awake. How was she still awake? She smiled, shaking her head again and going to brush her teeth. Harry shrugged and drank the tea.

Annabelle had wiped her face clean from her makeup, put Chapstick on (she always had Chapstick with her, peppermint kind, and never had dry lips), and pulled her hair up while she pulled the blankets off the bed and replaced them with a few she brought from home. Who knows if those hotel blankets had been washed? Plus, they always smelled so stale and dirty. She went to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water and saw Harry laying on the couch with his sweatpants hanging low on his toned hips and his shirt nowhere to be seen. The pillow under his head was halfway hanging off of the couch and he looked uncomfortable on the hard cushions. She got on her knees beside the couch in the darkened room, the only light coming from the tv, and gently tapped on his bare shoulder. Harry's head turned so he could see his girlfriend who looked confused. "What?" He asked, his voice deeper than usual in his tired state. She grabbed his hand and tried to tug him off of the sofa as she stood up. She wanted him to sleep in the bedroom with her and she had no clue why he was trying to sleep on the couch. Thoughts of insecurity and doubt swam through her mind as she asked herself if maybe he didn't like being in the same bed as her when she slept. Maybe she snored, maybe she cuddled him too much. Maybe she had a tendency to take the blankets or take up too much space. Of course, none of these theories were true. Harry had given his word to her father and he wanted to keep to it, and not do anything that her father wouldn't approve of. Holding her hand when no one was looking didn't count, neither did kissing her or thinking she was the most beautiful girl to walk the earth after seeing her clean and shiny face with her hair pulled back and his shirt swallowing her small frame.

"You can have the bed," Harry said as he sat up and ran his fingers through his hair that was growing, almost at his shoulders now. When Annabelle had first met him, it was hardly past his ears. "I'll take the couch." Harry gave a small smile and his girlfriend shook her head in disapproval. If he wanted to sleep separately, then he could take the bed and she would take the couch. She tried not to think about how he hadn't kissed her goodnight. Not that he had kissed her that many times, but when he did it was meaningful and sentimental; something she wanted to always have and never let go of.

So Annabelle pushed him off the couch and took his spot, but he was quick to say no and pick her up, sitting her gently on the coffee table and taking the couch. At this point she was getting upset. All she wanted was for him to hold her and keep her warm, at least until she fell asleep, but her doubtful thoughts took control of her actions and made her frown as her feet padded away on the cold tile floor. She was stopped right before her feet hit the stuff carpet of the bedroom, by Harry's hands twisting her around by her own and pressing his lips to hers softly, in a goodnight kiss. She kissed back, but he ended the kiss too soon for her liking. He kissed her forehead and let go of her hands, returning to his uncomfortable position on the couch. The many doubts were subsided as she laid down in the lonely bed. At least he kissed her, at least he let her have the bed.

Annabelle was determined to get back at him tomorrow for upsetting her and making her sleep alone when they finally had the chance to cuddle and be alone after being in front of her parents all day. As she drifted to sleep, she nuzzled her nose closer to his shirt that smelled like him in a search for comfort.