The shock on Harry's face is evident as he looks down at me.
I sit up straight, facing him. I had never meant to ask that out loud, but now I anxiously await the answer. Why I care at all, I have no clue.
Harry's eyes trail over my face. "Why did you kiss me back?" He counters.
I open my mouth. "I--I..."
"After all, you are with Aaron."
The atmosphere has changed yet again, and it's giving me whiplash.
"I don't want to talk about this," I state.
"You brought it up."
"You're the one that kissed me!"
Harry stands from the couch, turning his back to me. I regret bringing this up at all.
"I'll get you some blankets," he says coldly. He disappears into his room and I put my head in my hands.
Harry returns with the same pillow and blanket I used last time. I stand up, chewing on the inside of my lip.
"I'm sorry," I rush out. "I don't want to quarrel with you."
To my utter surprise, a smile spreads across Harry's face and be drops the blankets on the ground, doubling over in laughter.
I stare at him. "What's funny?"
Harry puts his hands on his knees, gasping for breath as he continues to laugh. "Rose, who the hell says quarrel?"
I smile slightly before breaking into laughs.
Harry falls back onto the couch, still laughing. I join him and pull my knees to my chest, a smile still playing on my lips.
I lean back on his arm. I like the feeling of his skin on mine, as weird as that sounds.
"Harry, are we friends?" I ask.
Harry sighs. "I don't know, Rose," he says.
"Why can't we be?" I seem to have no control over my words.
"Are you saying you'd like to be friends?"
"Well, when you're not being an asshole, you're actually quite pleasant," I say.
He looks down at me. "Thanks," he says sarcastically and I laugh again. I watch his dimples carve delicately into his cheeks as he smiles.
"All right, Rose," he says. "If you really want to be, then we can be friends."
"Really?"
"Sure. I mean, you already know where my stash of Snickers bars is, so I guess there's nothing left to hide." He smirks.
Nothing left to hide.
"You have a stash up there?" I widen my eyes.
"Shit," he says, shaking his head and smiling. I laugh. "Yes," he says. "I've got like three hundred up there."
"Three hundred? What, are you expecting to be caught in an apocalypse attack or something?"
"Like Snickers bars would help me in an apocalypse. Get your facts straight, Rosalie."
I smack his arm and he winces slightly, laughing.
"Watch it, Rosalie," he says.
"Asshole," I say, sitting up and crossing my arms over my chest.
"So you don't like being called 'Rosie' and you don't like 'Rosalie' either. What the hell am I supposed to call you?"
"Rose!"
"Not if we're going to be friends, I'm not."
I pelt him with a pillow and roll my eyes. "If that's how it's going to be, I don't want to be friends."
"Oh, there's no going back now. You know where I keep my Snickers."
I laugh again and lean back on his arm. I have no idea why I keep leaning on him like this, but neither of us seem to object to it.
The television is still playing an episode of Family Guy, which we both turn our attention to.
Harry leans back into the couch and I curl up next to him. A comfortable silence descends upon us as we watch the late night rerun, occasionally laughing or commenting on the program.
I fight to keep my eyes open, but fail as I rest them shut. I lean my head on Harry's shoulder, breathing in his scent and truly relaxing for the first time in days. I fall asleep shortly, the sounds of the TV muffling around me. I've never fallen asleep next to Aaron.
Guilt consumes my dreams as Aaron wiggles his way back into my thoughts. Why should I be guilty? Harry and I are only friends.
I wake up in the middle of the night, still leaning on Harry. I can tell he's asleep, too, from his slow steady breathing. His arms has moved so that it's loosely around my waist, and his head leans toward me, our foreheads lightly touching. His body is warm next to mine.
I smile a bit in my sleep state, knowing that if I was Regular Rose, I would have shove him off of me and storm back to my apartment.
But Regular Rose is slowly dying and fading. I don't think I object much to that.
I cuddle back up closer to Harry and shut my eyes again. He stirs a bit, sighing in his sleep and wrapping his arm tighter around me. I fall back asleep with traces of emerald eyes and the smell of spearmint in my mind.
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YOU ARE READING
Hidden. (by seasidestyles-original copy)
Fanfiction2014 Watty Award Winner rose does not like harry. and harry does not like rose. but perhaps the looming threat of a ruthless mastermind and a shady corporate conspiracy can change that for them. because to her, he was like the moon-part of him was a...