Harvard Boy

Come here.

She was compliant when he'd asked her to move.

Hands shaky; eyes distant; legs standing.

The dismissal of her presence against her beautiful instrument, for a beautiful boy; made her skeptical.

What is he doing to me?

No one knew exactly, not even her.

But it still doesn't change the answer to the reasonable question.

Doesn't change its existence, heavy in the air, begging to be answered.

She stepped away, distancing what little she could.

Harry took her place. Took something of herself with him; unnoticed of course.

Immediately holding his posture, readying his hands, like he's done this multiple times before; practiced, pristine. His fingers glided.

This surprised her, the exact piece she had just finished moments ago, was murmuring between them. Making it stir; combine, into a battle.

She was dazed. Lost in his displaying trance.

It came out smoother; cleaner; better.

Light in the air; balanced.

He'd always represent something more; he'd always outdo her.

Out live her.

And just when she thought it couldn't sound anymore ideal; Couldn't hold anymore perfection.

He stopped.

Allowing a silence to envelop the foyer.

"Come here."

With seconds passing; and moments fragile.

She hesitantly stepped closer.

Breaths were heard, eyes were locked.

He broke it. The invisible line; the space between them.

His hand grabbed her wrist, then her hips, pinning them to his lap.

A gasp escaped her, body freezing; molding against him.

"You went from A to C, instead of A to D." He whispered against her ear.

His arms trapping her on either side; ring clad fingers returning to the keys.

By his example, she watched as he continued to play.

"Now you try."

It wasn't the contrast of his muscles under the thin T-shirt, nor the way his cologne swarmed into a ruddy mist; That made warmth grow into fire.

It was the delicate tone he was using, the small tattoos cascading his arms, the softness of his lips mere centimeters away.

She couldn't see his face, couldn't understand why he was doing this.

Yet they were here together; confused, friends, small smiles, something unsaid, something forgotten.

With a sigh, she heaved forward, repeating his movements.

"That's it." He breathed, while his fingers nimbly moved to her neck, pushing her hair to the side.

She flinched only slightly; only for a moment.

A cool breeze enveloping her exposed skin, in a frenzy of what's happening?

"Don't stop playing." He hushed.

Victoria took this in, along with a sharp breath. Continuing to play, continuing to listen; to do anything he wanted; be anything he needed.

Then all to suddenly she felt lips graze the base of her throat, marking and licking.

She arched against him, her hands falling away.

His palms roaming, until he palmed a breast, until he deepened the kiss.

She moaned; let her head fall against his shoulder; let any sense of the situation go.

Lips moving; teeth biting; tongue licking.

To much; not enough.

He found the faded hickey; he sucked; and sucked until a sultry "Harry" fell from her lips.

Until she couldn't breath, couldn't understand why it felt so good, to good. Why he was here, and why she could never be the girl who ruined him.

(Ayo, hope you likey likey. Cause I likey likey all of you. Thanks so much for reading. You all are the bomb.com (update tomorrow) All the love.)