Beware

Chapter Two:

(Harry's P.O.V.)

I ran my tongue over my upper lip, my eyes searching the room. "So, you like my brother, huh?" I asked, looking over at Victoria, trying to not to smile. She looked at me, blushing, "I mean, he's a sweet guy, but I highly doubt that he'd ever be interested in me." Walking over to her, I placed my gloves on the kitchen counter, "Why? Does he come across as an idiot?" I grinned, looking down at her. She fumbled with her fingers; I could tell that she didn't want to meet my gaze. "N-No, but I just...," She muttered, slowly looking up at me. "You just... what?" I chuckled, biting my lower lip as my eyes probed hers. Trying not to be too cocky, I slowly looked down at her lips then back up to her eyes. "I-I just.. I..," I felt bad for her considering that she lost her words, but to be honest, it was entirely too cute. "Lost your words?" I chuckled, brushing a strand of hair out of her face, "It's fine," my voice grew deeper as I whispered into her ear, "and so are you." A crimson blush grew on her cheeks as the words absorbed into her mind, "I don't feel like I am," She stuttered. My hand made it's way down to her hip, holding her firmly as I pushed my body up against hers, "I can make you feel it and believe it, you only have to ask," I groaned against her neck, placing a gentle kiss on her skin.

"Is it too early to ask?" She whispered, her hand slowly sliding down my back; a slight smirk forming on my lips. "Not at all," I whispered, my hand searching for hers. Gently I laced my fingers with hers, beginning to walk over to the stairs. "I just hope that I won't have to be too gentle with you," I added, noticing that her cheeks were covered with a soft blush.

(Marcel's P.O.V.)

I decided that in order to avoid any conflict between Harry and I, I would just have to go around the house and start my work. Slipping my gloves on, I made my way over to a rose bush, beginning to remove any unwonted leaves, branches, etc. "Dammit Harry, why do you always have to leave me with the tough work," I groaned as a thorn stuck me through my glove. Seeing as though I hardly had any daylight left, I didn't check my cut flesh, and moved on to other parts of the yard that needed repair. A few noises here and there were audible from outside, causing my mind to wander. "I swear..," I breathed, my eyes threatening to water, "If that is Harry with Victoria.. I'll kill him." A sigh escaped my lips as a single tear ran down my cheek, "Stop being such a misfit, Marcel. Misfit Marcel," I whispered, recalling my childhood nickname that resulted in me crying myself to sleep every night, "Misfit Marcel."

(Victoria's P.O.V.)

Harry's hands explored my body, goosebumps rising on my skin at every gentle touch of his warm fingers. "You don't mean that, do you?" I whispered, my lips nearly touching his ear, his hands holding me firmly. "You tell me," He snarled back, his eyes probing mine, "I'm yours for the night." Slowly I tugged his shirt, beckoning him to come closer, to love me. "What makes you so sure that I'd want to have you?" His eyes scanned my body as his hands slid around my waist, his forehead against mine, "Intuition." The word came from his mouth clean and crisp, almost as if he had been recalling it from a past memory. His lips found mine as did his teeth, slowly teasing me, begging me to go forth with it. Harry smirked against my lips before looking at me closely, "Something wrong?" I looked up at him, half expecting him to look at me disapprovingly like an owner would a new puppy, but the look he had showed something else, something more unique; empathy. My eyes seemed to study his facial expresion for a good while as words upon words fluttered through out my head but not being able to come out of my mouth. "N-No, nothing's wrong. I just don't feel well."

It was almost as if, in that very instant, he changed. Harry no longer looked at me the way a hungry lion would it's prey. He looked at me as if I were his own, as if we were best friends. His hands slid off of my waist and instead carressed my face, his right hand checking my temperature, "You feel a tad warm, in all honesty. Why don't I bring you to your room? You could relax," His voice had changed as well. It no longer sounded deep and raspy, it sounded soft and gentle. I couldn't help but feel the need to give back to him the feeling that he gave me. Soundlessly, I brushed my lips against his in a kiss, my hand holding his cheek, "Sorry," I whispered against his lips, "it's just that-" "It doesn't matter why you did it," He grinned, "Just be glad that you're one of the rare girls who can actually kiss well," He chuckled, placing another kiss on my lips.

It was immensely weird how Harry's personality completely swapped from dark and inconspicuous to caring and affectionate but I wasn't about to spend time thinking it over. Would I have slept with Harry that night? Probably so. Would it mean anything to either one of us? No; that's why I didn't do it. The part about not feeling well was entirely true, but I did not and would not allow for him to make me up to be his own personal toy, his friend with benefits.