Artifice

Overthinking

My dumbbum forgot to add somewhere in the last chapter that they used a condom, just pretend that he had one or pulled out, whatever floats your boat.

Harry was carelessly roamed around with only a towel covering his lower body. His clothes were in the washing machine so he would have to stay that way for a while now, which I had no problem with.

After we made a mess of paint all over the floor and our bodies, we decided to take separate showers to clean ourselves up after Harry made a joke about how we'd never leave the shower if we went in together.

Harry, obviously didn't do a good job in taking out all the paint in his hair.

"I hope you know your hair still has paint in it."

"For fucks sake, really?" He grabbed onto the ends. "I washed it twice, if I have to go in there and wash my hair with your kiwi scented shampoo again I might just turn into one."

"I've got it." I carefully pulled out the pieces of dried paint in his hair.

I desperately wanted to talk to him about what just happened, about everything. We just did something that besides him, I've only ever done with one other person in my life.

With Harry, I didn't know what to think, if we were still just friends in his eyes or more than that. I've looked past my denial and admitted to myself that I actually cared for him. I actually cared for the boy that I despised so much once upon a time.

It terrified me that he might not feel the same way.

My thoughts slowly diminished my mood. I was quietly eating cereal while Harry checked his phone next to me.

Now, I couldn't look him without remembering the girl he so easily ditched at the club the night we met, or the many others he's probably done the same to. My paranoia grew the longer I was submerged by my thoughts.

I wanted to know why he approached me that day at the MET, why he took me home and kept coming back. Why he insisted on pushing me away at first by acting like a insensitive jerk. I wanted to know why after a month of not seeing each other he came back into my life so quickly.

I hated that I cared for him so much now, if only he could've stayed an insensitive jerk.

A phone ringing interrupted my somber thoughts.

"S'yours." Harry announced, seeing his phone wasn't ringing.

I retrieved my phone from the living room where I last left it and answered the call coming in from my mom.

"Evangeline." My mother's voice cooed through the speaker.

"Hey mom." My voice was flat.

"How are you doing sweetheart? Are you feeling better?"

"I'm better now, thank you for asking." I awkwardly paced around the living room, knowing that Harry was feet away listening.

"I'm glad to hear. You're birthday is in two days!" She squealed. I haven't even noticed how close it was, Christmas was only two days after also.

It was bittersweet having my birthday and Christmas so close together. Some years it meant getting double the presents, others it meant my birthday being completely ignored because of the festivities.

"Woohoo."

"Oh c'mon, are you and Elizabeth planning anything?" She asked.

"A dinner with some friends I think."

"Oh that's lovely. How about for Christmas? What are you girls going to do?"

"I think I'm staying in Manhattan," I could hear her sigh through the phone and I actually began to feel guilty. "Or I could make a visit." As soon as the words left my mouth I wanted to take them back.