The following morning, I woke with a strange feeling inside of me.
Memories from the previous night scanned through my mind.
Harry's father, Caleb trying to break into my apartment and his threats, my sister, all the things we've discussed. Every memory my mind would lean to, it would find a way to connect it with Harry's lips.
I didn't know why, but I knew out of everything, I shouldn't have felt happy, but I couldn't help it.
The way his lips pressed fiercely but softly against mine, the way his right hand cupped my cheek and the other one wrapped around my waist; the way he had this power from just touching me, sent me chills along my spine.
I shouldn't have felt happy, I should have feared him, I should have felt sad, scared, mad. But all I felt was happiness. I knew something like that would never happen again.
Happiness wasn't something on my daily routine, I was so used to not have it in my life and I did not care. But it was nice to feel this feeling of belonging once in a while, even though I knew I wouldn't be feeling it for long.
"Why are you smiling?" Harry surprised me by saying as I was lightly tracing Harry's birds chest tattoos with my index finger.
His morning voice was deep and scratchy, a beautiful sound for my ears. I looked up at him, but his eyes were shut close.
"Nothing," I said, stopping my movements, "sorry."
"Mmmh, don't stop," he said, bringing his free hand under my shirt and beginning to draw circles on my bare back. I smiled at the raspy voice of his as I thought it couldn't get any sexier.
As soon as I continued my previous movements, reality hit me. What was I doing, laying in bed with a guy I barely knew, sleeping in the same bed as him like nothing? Where was Connie? I knew Connie would have never let anything like that happen, no feelings towards anyone. You're going to lose them anyways. I could not grow any other feeling for Harry, not even as a friendship, it will just crash me at the end.
I already let Zara in — partly. I felt guilty at the thought of her. Now that I was thinking, I hadn't called her for so long, and I didn't even miss her, to be honest. Not that she tried to make any contact with me, anyways. I felt that we bounded so well just because we had shared the same ceiling for such a long time. If I would have met her in any other circumstances, I wouldn't have given her a second glance before turning away and go for my street.
That was it, I guessed. That was the end of another forced friendship. As I leave, the bound also does. Like with everyone else who I met in my life. I knew I should have felt at least a little bit sad about Zara. I mean, we did spend three years making memories and saying some bullshit, I did think I was going to miss her so much; but as I was laying in Harry's arms, I realized I did not miss her at all.
Harry. He didn't say anything as I sighed loudly and continued to move his fingers on the cold skin of my back.
I let out another sigh. I could not stay there.
"Hey," he whispered, "what's wrong?"
"I'm sorry, I—" I started but I did not know what to say.
Simple as that, I quickly shifted away from his grip and climbed off the bed.
I heard his surprised voice calling my name as I made my way out of his apartment, once more, gathering my stuff left here and there.
Just when I reached the doorknob, I felt Harry's touch on my shoulder, stopping me from opening the door and stepping outside.
