Bad Intentions ↠ h.s.

Chapter Nineteen

"What a dinner," Harry growls in arrogance, resting his head on the palm of his hand as he sips on what was rest of the water from a small glass. "I'm sorry about that."

"It's fine," I assure him, standing back up from my spot on the floor from where I was crouched, soaking up the water into a towel. "I get it that couples fight. It's a normal thing." He nods, biting his lip while staring at the door that Ashley previously went out of after Harry lashed out on her. "Maybe you should go talk to her?"

"Ash? Pfft...never. When she's boiled, she's pretty raunchy with a stink eye for about a month. She's pretty tight with her grudges on people," he chuckles, while continuing to stare at the door, glancing at me every so often. "That's why I've been in a bit of a grouchy mood. I'm just so sad to see our private time exit so soon." I nod, straightening up the dinner table, and starting the dishes. "Just so soon, Arabella."

He drives me crazy and flying with emotions, but no matter how upset I was with him or how upset he was with me, I wasn't going to be a toy. Especially when he exaggerates how he's not getting any specific attention from Ashley, when he could easily.

"Mhm," I comment, not wanting to take this conversation or interaction any further, scrubbing the gross and bitter pasta off into the garbage.

"You know she's probably smoking a bowl out there right now?" He states broadly, his voice and footsteps trailing closer and closer towards me. "See, I would rat her out and bicker about her drug bust issue, it's just that I'm not that person." We both know he wants her gone, so why doesn't he just do it? "You'd probably get taken away or the court would assume you need some shrink or something to fix you up."

I feel relaxed and perfectly mellow, until I realize that I'm suddenly tensed up, and that's because I feel his fingertips on my shoulders, and his body's radiated heat against mine, except his towering over me.

I gulp, losing control of the scrubbing method, scrubbing even faster and harder.

He was bat shit crazy upset through-out the whole day, but now, he's magically okay?

"I'm going to-um...go get ready for bed," I say quickly, almost too quickly to the point where he bows his head when I turn around to look at him.

"It's seven o'clock," he informs me, a small laugh leaving his lips. "Why so soon?"

I shut the sink off and manage to slide past him swiftly, in attempt to make no more physical content with him, before being stopped at the stairs.

"Bell?" He calls out, which I wish he didn't because I'm already weak in my knees by the time I make it to the first step. "Is everything okay?"

Is it really?

"Y-yeah, why?" I answer, bouncing with anxiety. You're such a fool, Arabella.

"No, I mean...between you and I," pausing to lick his lips. "Are we okay?"

Simply a curt nod for a reply, and I'm off to my bedroom, in attempt to rid him from my thoughts.

-Harry-

"Have you even been thinking about her school life?" Ashley asks me, the sound of cupboards, along with pans and pots being slammed around in the direction of the kitchen. "It'll be less stress off of our days."

"I actually have been thinking about it," I mutter, crossing my leg over the other and using my straw to spin my drink. "I think she should stay here with me. It's not like I have anything better to do because I really have to turn things in early in the morning or late at night."