Bad Intentions ↠ h.s.

Chapter Seventeen

-Arabella-

Last nights blur is still imprinted in my mind. All I remember is me pointing out how I like Harry's Adam's apple and nothing else after that. Oddly true yet weird, I really did like the silly boy's...well...everything.

I can feel that the bed is empty, and I know for a fact that it's been like that for at least ten minutes, giving away the feeling of the cold fabric beside me.

I swing my legs over the edge, gathering my suitcase and grabbing out my toiletries and a fresh set of clothes. I head to the bathroom, shutting the door lightly behind me.

The warm water runs over my hands as I swipe my toothbrush under it, starting to brush my teeth and doing my essential morning things.

I don't even recall hearing the door click, but just as I'm placing my hair in a bun, I feel his presence near me.

"You should leave it as is," his raspy morning voice calls out to be as I place a Bobby pin between my teeth to keep it loose, fastening it in my bun. "I like your natural hair."

"Good morning," I greet him, collecting my items and stuffing them back into my suitcase behind me. "I don't like my natural hair anyways."

He sighs, following me out into the main room. "It's so nice though."

I falsely chuckle, making my back to the bathroom with clothes and various toiletries now. "It's so not."

"But, it is," he claims. "Not whatever, this is."

I roll my eyes at his rude remark, keeping myself quiet until I have to practically force him out of the bathroom so I can change.

After changing my pajama shorts for a pair of yoga pants, I figure I'd keep his shirt on because it still has the faint and musky scent of him all over it. Not only that, but it was also super comfy and snug on my body.

I swing the door open to see he's once again, not present in the room. I sigh, wondering where he could manage to go in just a matter of what? 30 seconds?

I decide that it's best I keep to myself, while I start to pack things up, along with dumping our drinks from last night down the drain, organizing the room so it's at least semi-decent for the room maids.

I open the blinds to have the sun spill in even more, soon regretting my choices once it hits me in the eyes, nearly blinding me half to death. After what seems forever, I grow agitated with Harry's unknown presence.I pause at the door, checking the room just to affirm that Harry isn't in here, just so I don't get spooked.

I peek my head outside into the hall, and quickly scamper along the padded floor in nothing but bare feet.

"Hey," I introduce once I see him outside, puffing on a cigarette, cellphone between his shoulder and ear. "Everything okay?"

It's not like him to smoke. I only ever recalled him smoking one time while I was in his presence, which I believe was the night Ashley left us to go on a 'work-related' business trip a few weeks back.

He nods, offering me the phone, me mouthing 'who is it?' It's so strange seeing his beautiful and pink lips holding a cigarette between themselves, almost as if begging to be smacked with cancer. I politely decline, chewing the inside of my cheek.

"Ashley, I'm gonna have to let you go, I promise we'll be there in a few hours. Yes. Yes. No," he pauses, glancing in my direction. "She didn't. Okay. Bye."

I cross my arms over my chest from the eased breeze entering me, the sun fully displaying itself in our balcony view. "What was that all about?"

"Ashley, wondering when we're getting her and if we slept in the same bed, blah blah blah," just what I expected, besides the bed part.

I choose to ignore it though, watching as he takes another puff off of a cigarette while sliding his phone into his pocket and playing with the small bed-head fringe he had going on.

"I didn't know you smoked," I comment, hoping to ease a bit of the tension that seemed to be building. I could see the muscles tensing beneath his shirt, and his eyes seemed to be irritably darting around, as though he were waiting for something awful to happen any moment now.

"There's a lot you don't know about me," Harry replied curtly, leaving me unsure if he's open to further discussion on this topic. It sounds cliché coming from him.

I click my tongue, awkwardly tilting side to side."It makes you look cool," I simper in an attempt to be cute, but the curly haired man simply ignored me and continues to silently puff away. I don't really take it to heart though. "So, uh, what are the plans for today?"

"We get in the car and drive to pick up the witch," he scowls, and by that, I know that 'the witch' is Ashley, as recently discovered. "I guarantee she's already pissed that we spent a second day here. Who know's how she'll if we delay our trip anymore."

Running a stressful hand through his hair, as it messily falls down on top of his already messy hair, he glances towards me before dying out his cigarette on the banister and tossing it over the ledge. "You're still wearing my shirt."

"Do you want it back? I was only wearing it so-" I begin.

He cuts me off. "You look pretty sexy in it, too," he addresses, and then opens the glass door, using his free hand to gesture that I follow his lead.

I don't recall him saying that last night when I was wearing it or this morning, which I push aside in the back in my head.

I thank him then he slides his arm over my shoulder, as we begin descending over the long and narrow hallway.

This is what satisfaction feels like. A happy man that adores your company, you wearing his shirts, and he's kind and understanding about it all.

--

"The guy at the concession stand a block away only agreed to let me purchase gasoline from him if I decide to take a listen to his mixtape," Harry mumbles, pulling out a cd in a plastic case, tossing it into the far backseat. "It was pure shit, but I'll give a good review on his website just to thank him."

"That's the Harry I know and admire," I tease, glancing back at the bags in the backseat that Harry insisted he loaded. "Thanks for walking so far to get the car while I sat like the lazy bum I am back at the hotel."

"Of course," he grins, his eyes skimming all of my facial features, me doing the same to him. I reach over the concil, my lips connecting with the skin on his forehead, leaving a quick peck. "Funny...now give me an actual smooch."

I laugh at his sarcasm and his choice of words, watching his dimples rise up when he smiles at me, my stomach falling weakly into a dipping motion. I return to my seat, shrugging his idea off.

What I assume is him reaching for the gear method in between us, turns into him taking my hand in his instead. The engine roars to life and we're back on track on the highway, all smiles, sweet smells, rainy weather, and pure emotion filling the vehicle.

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Short chapter, oh well. I was too tired to write more and my writers block is getting the best of me. We appreciate and love all of you who show your support to the story :) It means a lot. More to comeeeee.

Fo shizzle my dizzle