Know

19 - Play Hard

I slouch against the wall on my bed, absentmindedly chewing on a pencil as I read my textbook. Finals are next week and I've been cramming intensely to soak in as much information as I can. I don't want to start winter break anxious about whether or not I did well, I want to be sure of it.

Harry is at the end of my bed and my legs are crossed over his. He's been frequenting at my apartment lately since I've been locked in my room, feverishly studying. He browses a few vinyls that are spread on my bed while quietly humming a tune.

"Did you know that 'Hotel California' is supposedly about Satanism?" he asks, spreading open one of my Eagles albums.

"Yeah, I heard," I mutter.

"Isn't that creepy?"

"I guess," I mutter again, not taking my eyes off the book.

He gets up from my bed and turns on the record player. "You don't mind, do you?" he says, with the tone arm already lifted.

I sigh, trying my best to keep patient. "Actually, I do, Harry. I'm trying to study here."

"You've studied this entire week and the week before," he points out. "And I think the week before that, too."

"So? I'll be prepared," I reply.

"You're losing the 'work hard, play hard' spirit," he says, almost reprimandingly.

"I'm not," I defend, shifting my eyes back down. "I'm just doing the 'work hard' part right now. Maybe if you help instead of distract me, I could get it done quicker."

Harry gets back on my bed and slowly crawls over to me. He closes in, moving the textbook out of the way and sliding off my reading glasses.

"Then after, can we get to the 'play hard' part?" he whispers, his voice irresistibly husky and his warm breath tickling my lips. I have to work hard to stay composed and force back a grin, gently shoving him away.

"If you word it differently," I mutter, pushing my glasses back on.

"Okay fine. Can we doing something fun afterwards?"

"Help me memorize these terms first." I place my textbook between us. He doesn't bother glancing at the page and keeps his eyes on me, smiling.

"Have I ever told you how sexy you are when you wear glasses and tell me what to do?"

"That sounds a bit unhealthy," I answer, hiding my amusement, "might wanna get that checked out."

Harry springs from my bed and exits the room.

"Where are you going?" I call into the hall.

There's no response but about ten seconds later, he returns with an oversize bag of fruit snacks.

"Where did you get that?" I ask while watching him pull it open.

"Effy brought it home from the store."

"Effy's home from the store?"

He tilts his head to the side, slightly scrunching his eyebrows. "Were you studying that hard?" he says, popping a fruit snack into his mouth.

"Go ahead, help yourself," I deadpan.

He shrugs innocently. "She said we could. And besides, this is for you."

Then he returns to his spot on the bed and faces me with his knees bent in front of his chest. He swivels the textbook around and props it up in front of his face.

"Are you ready for round one?" he says.

"Sure, but who am I up against?"

"Me."