Stars

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My father has left me for the night, claiming he's meeting up with friends. It's questionable, but fuck what I think anymore. He's still annoying.

I walk around the house barefoot, wearing shorts and a tee. The heat is starting to grow and I continue making myself dinner, my hair up on the top of my head.

There is a knock on the door and Harry stands on the other side, his smile bright. He walks in and follows me into the kitchen, his body moving onto a chair.

"Is he out again?" he asks, my head nodding.

"When is he not?" I rhetorically ask, his lips frowning.

"You know, you are more than welcome to come over whenever he's not home," he says, my shoulders shrugging.

"I don't mind being alone, Tarzan," I say, his lips curving at the old nickname.

"I have a problem with it though. I want you to be with someone than alone on your summer vacation," he says, my feet walking over to him.

"Clearly, since you are always around me," I say, his hand grabbing mine.

"Is it that obvious?" he grins, making me laugh.

I turn to walk back to the dinner I'm making but he pulls me onto his lap. "I want to make this your best summer vacation I can."

I smile and grab his chin. "Whatever you say."

I kiss his cheek and walk to make dinner, his body getting up and leaning against the counter.

"Are you expecting something tonight?" I ask, his hands folded and his eyes look at me carefully.

"I just like spending time with you, Claire Bear."

He grins and I roll my eyes, causing him to laugh. "Say what you really think."

"What?! Is it so hard to believe?" he laughs, making me laugh.

"I'm Harry and I like spending time with Claire, even though she's a bitch," I lower my voice, making him laugh.

"Claire, you're beautiful. I'd be a damn fool to pass up any opportunity to spend time with you," he explains, but one thing stuck out to me.

"You...You called me beautiful," I say, his eyes watching me close. I don't think he's called me that before, at least not in a time like this. It's always hot or sexy, never beautiful.

"Because you are," he smiles, walking over to me. He grabs my hand and kisses my hair, his eyes then looking down at me.

"Why?" I ask, his hand holding mine and tugging me into him. He wraps his arms around me and leans his head down, his lips kissing my jaw.

"I have nothing bad to say about you," he whispers, my hands holding his biceps.

I look up and he presses his lips to mine, his hands running over my bottom before he grabs my thighs, lifting me up and kissing me deeper. I feel him reach over and shut the stove off, my hands grabbing his cheeks.

His hand runs beneath my shirt and he walks towards the living room, my heart pounding. I've never had this much anticipation for the night and I know Harry will make it count. He's the first boy that could make me feel and that means something to me.

"Where's your room?" he breathes, but I keep kissing him through his words.

"Upstairs," I whisper, his hands holding me on his body as he walks up the stairs. As soon as the pink walls are in sight, he shuts the door behind us and he lays me on the bed.

Barely any words are spoken and we're naked between the sheets all night, his body shining with sweat as we go late into the night.

When we finish round two, he holds me and we look out the window and see the stars.

"I'm going to get something to eat. You want to come with me?" I ask, his head nodding. He puts his shorts back on and I pull on my robe, his body following me downstairs. But I freeze when I hear the door open and Harry stops too, his eyes wide. We hear laughing, female laughter mixed with my father's, and I watch as they are too distracted to notice Harry and me. They disappear into the hallway and Harry grabs my hand, my anger boiling over. I rip my hand away and rush into my father's room, stopping his shit.

"Fuck you!" I yell at him, his woman friend shocked at me.

"Claire I didn't know you were home," he rushes, but I shake my head.

"You haven't changed, you bastard," I yell, running out of the room and out of the house. 

"Claire," Harry calls after me, my eyes stinging with tears. I'm so naïve to think just maybe, even a little, he had changed.

"Fuck him. Selfish piece of shit," I groan, grabbing a potted plant and throwing it at the sidewalk. It shatters and I breakdown.

"Claire," Harry continues, my irritation high. I'm ruining all his plants and I just desperately try to get over my idiotic thought of my father's potential at turning his life around.

Two hands grab my waist roughly and Harry wraps his arms around me. I thrash against him and he keeps me locked in place.

"Kick me, hit me, hate me, damn it. Claire, just calm down and let me help you," he whispers, my eyes shutting tightly. I start to refrain from thrashing against him and I grab his hair, breaking down in his arms.

"Harry, what..." I hear my father, but Harry tightens his arms.

"I heard her yelling and throwing pots. So I helped," he says, just to make my father think nothing's going on between us.

"Fuck off, John," I yell, my father's name harsh on my tongue. Harry tightens his arms again; this time probably to restrain me.

"Shhh, relax," Harry whispers to me in my ear, his hands soft on my waist as his arms remain around my body. I close my eyes and Harry lets me stay in his arms, my father receiving the message. I hear him walk away and I break down in Harry's arms, his lips pressing to my cheeks.

"I've got you, Claire," he whispers, my hand fisting his hair and the other holding his shoulder tightly. I must have cried for at least ten minutes before I finally let him go, his hands holding my waist. He kisses my forehead and I look up at him, his eyes on me closely.

"I wanna stay with you," I manage to get out, his head nodding. He leans down and lifts me bridal style, his arms holding me close.

He carries me into his house, walking up the stairs and laying me on his bed. Once he changes, he lays beside me and I clearly surprise him as I curl close to him. He wraps his arm around me and kisses my hair, letting me relax and escape beside him.

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