"Fuck," I heard Harry groaning in annoyance as I jumped at Zara's sudden voice.
I quickly removed Harry's hands from my heat skin and stood up, suddenly feeling cold, covered by just the thin material of my shirt, footsteps coming closer and closer, until they're just a few feet away.
"Connie, where are—"
Her voice stopped abruptly with her trace of steps once she noticed Harry and I in the living room, me standing still, my lungs looking for air as Harry looked at my friend smiling from the sofa.
Zara dropped her gaze to Harry for a few seconds as she looked at him surprised. Swallowing loudly, her lost eyes met mine, whispering, "what's happening?"
"Zara," I said, my voice trembling and I wasn't even sure if it was for Harry and I's little make out session, or Zara almost discovering our foolish actions.
But, that being said, I was always so nervous when Harry was around.
"Hi I'm—"
"I know who you are," Zara interrupted. "What is he doing here?" She asked, nodding towards Harry, who was now standing, his hand slightly touching mine, making me even more edgy.
"What?" I asked, taken aback from Zara's behavior. She was the one always looking so fearless, reckless. Now she almost looked...scared?
"What is he doing here?" She repeated, her voice louder.
"Nothing. We were just talking."
"Why?" She asked as her eyes fell on Harry's shirt, which was slenderly rolled up, showing the start of the tattoo on his left lower quadrant.
"You didn't fuck him, didn't you?"
This time was Harry who talked, surprised by Zara's words as much as myself.
"What the hell?" He exclaimed.
"Did you, Connie?" She ignored his comment as her eyes burned into my confused ones.
But before I could say something, Harry replied.
"Last time I checked, that isn't any of your concern but mine and Connie's."
Zara shook her head in disbelief as she whispered almost to herself, "so you did fuck him."
"I did not!" I snapped.
What was her issue with Harry anyways?
"Did you like him, Connie?"
"Why do you even care?"
"Just answer the question!" She shouted, her arms crossed against her chest,
"Hey, stop yelling at her," Harry intervened, a shiver racked my body at the sound of his angry and raspy voice.
Zara just rolled her eyes, completely ignoring him as she awaited for my response.
"What if I did? I challenged her, raising my eyebrows.
"I can't believe you! With everything you've been through, how can you trust someone, especially him?"
And then I knew the reason to why she was acting so weird. She was jealous. She was aware that I didn't trust her enough to share parts — the most important ones— of my past with her. She could see that Harry and I's connection was different - stronger than ours has ever been, no matter how many years we spent together, living in the same roof.
I didn't know if I liked Harry or not. But what I knew is that I trusted him, more than I ever did with anyone else. Our whatever type of relationship we had was possibly the oddest I've ever experienced. I couldn't actually define what was driving me to him, but something in Harry made me trust him. That I was sure I didn't want to lose it possibly the only person who wouldn't judge me for who am I, for my past.
