Harold

four

From freshman year of high school until now, I had a total of two boyfriends.

My first boyfriend, Morgan Williams was a hunk. Nice blue braces, bright red hair, and a birthmark that covered his left bicep shaped as a three-leaf clover. We were seventeen and Harry hated him.

It wasn't because of jealousy (well, maybe a little). It was mainly that Kevin wasn't very nice. He never liked the way I dressed and he told me I needed to stop eating so many cookies at lunch because he wouldn't want to marry a fat lady. I was going to break up with him that wonderful March day but he beat me to it.

"What's wrong, Lee?"

"Morgan broke up with me."

"Good," he scoffed, "that's a girl's name anyways."

That made me laugh and I was okay again.

My second boyfriend wasn't until I was 19. His name was Daren and I actually met him through Harry. They were friends and we just hit it off. He was a good guy and we dated for a good year but he didn't like how close I was with Harry. He didn't like the nights I chose Harry over him. But it wasn't an option; Harry needed me. He was in a bad place. A year later, I couldn't handle it anymore.

Usually when I wake up there is a refreshing breeze over my body and a fair amount of space to move. The fan above me keeps the sweat from clogging my pours and my silk bed sheets allows me to roll around freely, keeping me from staying in one place at a time.

But as I wake up, I feel hot and clammy. I feel pressure against my chest and my legs are wrapped like vines around a tree. When I open my eyes I realize it's because a man's head is placed on my stomach and his arms are wrapped around my waist. His hair is dispersed across my chest and tickles my chin lightly. And I'm okay with it.

I smile delighted that Harry hasn't left me yet. When we were younger I would have never expected him to—but I don't know where we stand anymore. I have to pee but I refuse to move my legs; only my fingers through his hair.

His breath against my skin is slow and even. His legs shuffle occasionally but not enough to know if he's awake. If he is, he doesn't say anything. I want to lay like this forever but I know in reality he'll get up, leave, and I won't know when I'll see him again. Times have changed and we aren't kids anymore. We have responsibilities...such as work. Which I have in two hours.

I close my eyes again; wanting badly to fall back asleep but know it's a bad idea. If I fall back asleep I won't want to get up.

"Harry," I whisper, "Harry, I have work."

He groans and squeezes me tighter, pushing his face into my torso, his nose finding its way into my belly button. I laugh making his head bounce up and down.

"Stop," he whines, shuffling his feet against mine sending a deja vu feeling of the messy New Years Eve Night.

"I have to get up," he finally picks up his head and rests his chin against my rib cage.

"Can't you take off?" I'm surprised with his suggestion. I want to get back into our friendship but I didn't think he'd want to start so soon. I contemplate in my head and know I want nothing more than to call out.

"Okay," the words slip out of my mouth before I have the chance to think clearly. A smile forms on his face and I poke the dimples so clearly puncturing his cheeks.

"Okay," he responds.

"Will okay be our-"

"Finish that sentence and I'm gone," I close my eyes and laugh. Harry lifts himself up and crawls above me so his face is just inches from mine. His palms are pressed into the cushion beside my head and all his weight is on top of me. My breath catches in my throat as I feel his morning manhood against my thigh. I jolt and bite my shaky lip beneath my teeth. The effects he's been shining on me recently are unnerving, as our roles seemed to have been switched. He mesmerizes me while I seem to give him no hesitation. He's so confident, it's like we're ten again. If this were years ago I'd say something like, "ew, learn to control your dick," and push him off. Not today though.