Teenage Dirtbag

21

-Noel-

He looked behind me, smiling a bit. I heard the light footsteps, feeling my heart race. They were going to see Harry and I was going to get in so much trouble.

"Well who is it El?" My mom called, getting closer. She opened the door more, and my eyes closed, swallowing every nerve that bothered me.

"Oh! Harry, come on in!" I opened them, wide, confused as to what just happened. My mum walked away, leaving me and him at the door.

"Let's not keep them under suspicion El." He winked at me, walking passed me into the house with the roses. He handed them off to my mum, making her whine in excitement.

"They're beautiful! Thank you very much Harry!" I shut the door, not taking a step. What was I going to do? Harry is in my house, and he had roses for my mother. He's in my house!

"El? You coming?" I turned, giving a fake smile. "Yeah, sorry." We weren't on good terms and I wasn't happy with him. This is now the third thing he's done to make me upset. He must be good at it.

"Sorry I didn't respond to your message, I had gotten very jumpy and rushed a bit." My mum giggled, waving a hand around as she stirred the clam chowder soup. She messaged him?!

"I thought you weren't going to make it! But that's okay." I could feel Harry's eyes on me as I crossed my hands in front of me, standing by the counter. He walked closer, taking a seat on one of the bar stools.

"Can we talk? After dinner?" He whispered, making mw jerk my head to him. I furrowed my eyes in anger. "We better." I whispered back to him.

He sighed, getting up. I watched in remorse as he made his way into the kitchen to observe my mums cooking. "Would you like any help Ms. Thompson?" She set her fork down, looking at him.

"Not at the moment, but how about you and El go wash up. It'll be done in a bit." He turned to me, smiling warmly. I closed my eyes and turned around, walking up the stairs into the bathroom to wash my hands.

The water was warm, which was a plus for me. I looked in the mirror as Harry walked in, looking a little nervous.

"Are you angry?" Is that even a question? I tried to reason with him, wondering what he was thinking. It's not that easy to tell what a person is thinking, but once you get the slightest grip, you can't back out.

I sighed, turning the focet on more. "I don't know Harry.." He walked behind me, leaning in close. I could feel his hot breath over my neck as his arms curved around me, grabbing soap and moving his hands towards mine. He washed our hands, rubbing the soap in slowly.

"Why are you doing this?" I whispered. He pulled my hands along with his under the warm water, rinsing the soap of. Our fingers intertwined as he cleaned them.

"Because I'm sorry." He shut the water off, grabbing the towel and wiping his hands off. I reached for it, but he insisted on drying them himself.

"Harry-"

"Don't pity me. I messed up and it was wrong of me to write you that letter, especially in that kind of tone." I blinked up at him, seeing the apology plastered all over his face.

"I don't know if you can forgive me, but I understand if you can't." He let go of my hands, walking out. I stopped him, my hands grabbing the nearest one I could reach. He looked at me, curious to find out what happened next.

"What?" I looked him in the eyes, trying to find that apology again.

"I forgive you." I looked down at our hands, rubbing both my thumbs along his index fingers. He took his other hand, placing it gently on my cheek.