Receiving Her (h.s. au)

III

"I'm from New York, but my mom and dad were both from England. So we moved back to London when I was four and stayed there until I was fifteen. Then came back here, where I met people in music at school. I would sing for hours, losing my voice, and I got sick of it. So I found football. So many scholarships were offered for college and I accepted the one here. I was so excited, but my parents had other feelings," Harry explains, my eyes watching him closely. He's very passionate when he talks and I find him fascinating.

"I don't talk to them much, but I talk to my sister," he says, my fingers maneuvering the chopsticks into the noodles.

"What about you?" he asks, looking at me closely.

"Nothing, really. All I've done with my life is try to make my parents happy, and that hasn't gone very well," I say, his eyes flickering around my face.

"You should make yourself happy now," he says, my eyes meeting his.

"I don't know how to when my entire life I've worked so hard to make them happy. Mostly for nothing," I explain, his expression soft.

"Take it from me and just do what you want. Honestly, being free has never felt so good," he replies, my lips releasing a sigh.

He stands up and sets a twenty on the table, reaching out to me. I grab his hand and he walks out of the restaurant with my hand in his, my body moving closer to his due to the brisk air.

"Did you play any sports?" he asks, my lips curving.

"I used to play volleyball, but that's long over," I tell him, his lips curving.

"Were you any good?" he asks, walking us over to his truck.

"I was primary setter for the high school varsity team all four years. We won state my senior year," I elaborate, his lips curving.

"That's cool. What high school?" he asks, my back leaning against the truck.

"Washington High in Illinois," I say, his lips curving.

"Sounds cool. Don't know where that is because I've lived in New York most of my life," he says, my eyes watching him. We smile and I can tell he's a genuine boy; his attitude positive and his personality nice.

"Do you want to do anything else?" he asks, my breathing hitched in my throat as my waist is taken in his hands. He leans over me and I look up, my shoulders shrugging.

"Because I seriously want to do anything with you tonight. I like you," he says, my heart racing.

"I'll do something with you," I tell him, his lips curving.

"Wanna catch a movie?" he asks, my head nodding.

He opens the door to his truck and helps me in, my body sitting down. After he closes the door and slides into his own seat, he pulls onto the street. Soft music plays in the car and I look at the radio when I hear one of my favorite songs come on.

"Do you mind?" I ask, moving my fingers to the volume.

"Go ahead," he smiles, my fingers twisting the dial. I sit back and close my eyes, smiling at the words being sung. It's so perfect.

"I can see you're a Coldplay person," I hear his raspy voice say, my head turning to look at him.

"I love them so much," I grin, recalling all the nights I'd spend listening to Coldplay rather than listen to my parents hound me on my grades.

His eyes meet mine for a second and the green eyes are soft, my heart racing. He really is attractive; my nerves still tingling in my stomach.

I feel the car stop and I look at our surroundings, my stomach turning in nerves as I notice we're in a park.

"I've always wanted to do this," he says, my eyes watching him closely.

He climbs out of the truck, but leaves it on. I get out in curiosity, watching as he spreads a blanket in the back of his truck bed. He signals for me to walk over and I do so, his hand grabbing mine.

"Have you ever watched the stars and listened to Coldplay?" he asks, my lips curving. I nod and he lets go of my hand, grabbing my waist instead. I blush and look down, his hands warm against my body.

"Then you will be my first at this," he says, my eyes flickering to look into his.

"Okay," I flush, his lips curving at me.

I remove myself from his grasp and jump onto the back of his truck, his body moving to the driver's seat. He turns up the music and I smile, his body moving onto the back of the truck next to me.

"Do you have any games soon?" I ask, his head leaning back to look up at the stars.

"Two weeks is when the games start. We have practice every day but Sunday this week," he says, my head leaning back too.

"How long are your practices?" I ask, his lips releasing a sigh.

"Four hours usually. Sometimes longer," he explains, my eyebrows rising. That's a really long practice.

"You get tired a lot, then?"

He nods and turns his head to look at me. "Most of the guys on the team are dicks I hate talking to," he elaborates, my eyes looking at him.

He stares at me for a second and I blush, so shy that he keeps looking at me that way. He rarely takes his eyes off me and I don't know whether to feel appreciated or scared.

"I'm sorry. Was I staring?" he asks, my head nodding. He smiles and throws his head back, my eyes taking in his profile. He could not get more attractive. If he does, I'm sure to explode.

"I just can't seem to get over how beautiful you are," he says, my stomach filling with butterflies.

"Stop," I blush, his body leaning towards mine. His hand sets beside my waist and I turn my head to look at him. Our proximity has come to a point our foreheads are almost touching and my heart rate has multiplied.

"Oh, God, I'm holding back everything," he whispers, my lips parting. My breathing is soon erratic and his green eyes lock on mine.

"I never do this," I whisper, his nose touching mine.

"Neither do I," he breathes out, my hand coming to his shoulder.

"You are so different," he continues, his fingers coming up and brushing a strand of hair behind me ear. My eyes flutter closed as he continues to touch my face, the warm fingertips leaving me to feel so cared for.

"So different in the greatest way."

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