Damaged » h. styles au

Chapter 68 - Scarlett

PS.: Read chapter 09 of MTJA :)

                                                                     68.  

                                                             ●•Scarlett•●

I don’t really think neither I nor Harry actually realized the moment Lana came back home; I can’t be much sure about him, though I know that when I woke up he was still with his eyes closed and his arms around my waist cuddling me up on the carpet of the living room. The TV was not on anymore, whatsoever, and I knew Lana was the one to have turned it off.

It was just when I loudly yawned, stretching my arms open, that Harry dared to move, blinking a couple of times before sitting cross-legged and offering me a hand so I could do the same. Once I was half up, he moved one of his hands to push his messy fringe away, scrubbing a hand over his eyes and letting his neck crack. He was the loveliest thing I’d ever watched waking up, besides Angel, of course.

And maybe I even dared to voice my thoughts as I stared at him in something like awe, watching as he smiled fondly, too tired to try to be cheeky now.

“Thank you very much, misses.”

With a nod, I managed to stand up, quickly looking for my shoes and pressing the button of my phone resting on the coffee table to take a look at the time, sighing as I realized it was somewhere near three in the morning and freaking Lana hadn’t waken us up. She was probably asleep by now, that stupid proud-mother-like smile plastered to her fond face even while she did so, and I couldn’t help but shake my head at that, still smiling, though.

“Too late?” Harry asked, sinking into his shoes as well and groping his pockets in an attempt of finding what I assumed being his keys, so I gestured for him to look beneath the cushions on the couch. He did it. “Thanks,” he added once the keys were stuck to his fingers.

“Too early, I guess I can say,” I replied then, putting on my gloves and shoving the mobile into my back pocket. Curly arched an eyebrow, more confused than challenging; I sighed again, the mere thought making me mad. “Nearly three in the morning. I don’t think I’m getting any more sleep tonight; feeling pretty much awake, you know?”

He nodded, chuckling into his fist, choking on air briefly before saying “I assume we’re going home, then?” and right after he was folding up the quilt on the floor (then again, bless Lana), waiting for some kind of response as he placed it gently on the couch, gathering his stuff and getting ready, standing still right next to me. “The offer’s still up? Y’know, spending the night over?”

I smiled sheepishly, nodding with a smile of my own showing “If you’re okay with it, sure,” he rolled his eyes, because. Of course he’d be okay with it. It was Harry and it was me and honestly both of us knew we didn’t bother spending time with each other; enjoying the moments as much as we could. So. “I just need to go home and get decent clothes, because I’m not wearing yours again – though they’re comfy, I must admit – and, well, gonna leave my car there.”

He muttered a quick “sure” before walking towards the door and opening it up for me, holding it like that until I was out. Silently, I locked it, throwing the key back inside through the gap between the wooden and the floor, making sure it was safe, then finally turning around to walk inside my car, absent-mindedly observing as Harry did exactly the same.

He followed me all the way to my house, clambering out of the car just as I managed to unlock my front door, stepping in and instantly enjoying the warmth that wrapped me. It was not the warmest environment, to be fair, but it was still warmer than it was outside, so I could not complain much. And I would be tucked into warm arms under a cover in a while, anyway, so. Who was I to even bother?