Jupiter Falls ✓

o13| mirrors

Chapter 13 

Dedicated to everlasts for being such an amazingly talented person. I recently finished 1789 and it was so so so good. Please, add it to your library you won't regret it! To those who hate history, please don't be put off. It's worth it, and leave a nice comment—I'm sure it'll make Nicole's day a little brighter.

Since the burst of feels from Harry six minutes ago, I felt conflicted. What was this, just carry on being with Harry, being friends? Not pulling away, not pushing away even when we're about to tip into some place unknown to both go us, some hole I might not be able to get out of.

What a plunge.

"So what are you doing here?" Harry asks and I can't help but giggle at how stupid he's being.

"I could ask you the same exact question, due to the fact we both work here," I respond and he smiles knowingly.

"Yeah, I know that but why are you here so early?" He asks, pulling out his phone from his jean pocket, "there's like half an hour left until our shift starts," he says, his eyes boring into mine and his index finger tapping a tip, tap, tip on the edge of his phone.

"I don't really know, I watched a film before coming here. I didn't anticipate being so early." I say remembering how Hays and I both went our separate ways after the film. I had put my bowl in the kitchen to wash later and hopped on out of there. It was so awkward, we didn't speak, we avoided looking at each other. It was strange and I wanted out of there—so I left. That's why I was at work forty minutes early... "What about," him...? I started narrowing my eyes a little. Zoning in on him like I was a telescope and he was a star, "you?"

"What about me eh? You what, I don't actually know. I just came early because, because you know?"

"That's not an answer Harry," I say and his brows laugh.

"Yeah, well I can't really explain it, to be honest," he says normally. "I just came." He adds, his eyes popping out, his hands moving to add more emphasis; his voice slower, and more high pitched with each word.

"Okay then," I smile.

"Hey J have you been to roof yet?" He asked.

I nodded, " like once or twice."

"Let's go now," he says. His fingers now making a tip, tap, tip on the edge of the metal barrel.

I shake my head, "are you mad Harry?"

"Ah come on J, when's the last time you did something daring?" He asks, his hand now moving his phone from his lap to his jean pocket. The last time I did something daring huh? Let me think when I slept with you.

He hops off the barrel and holds out his hand. Like an eighteenth century gentleman, almost as if his hands were speaking: "coming or staying?"

My fate was sealed the moment I slowly placed my hand in his and he yanked me off the barrel. I stood next to him, breathing hard and he just laughs.

Looking at him sideways, I begin to speak when he yanks me again, this time closer to him. I glance at him again, and his smirk sends rocking storms into my body as he whispers, "do I take your breath away?"

I open my mouth to protest, to speak up and defend my breathlessness, but as soon as I do. My throat feels like it hasn't had something to drink in days—I felt thirsty. Yet I pushed out the croaky word nonetheless, "no."