Her Deliverance (vol. 2) ON HOLD

Seven

I sat at the edge of Harry's bed, knees pressed together and my hands fiddling nervously in my lap. I kept my chin tucked down and occasionally looked up through my eyelashes to watch Harry pace across the floor in front of me. He had been doing this for a good twenty minutes or so, shifting between having his arms crossed and his fingers running through his hair. I've finally agreed to talk about what happened last night with him, but the moment I told him that he had suddenly gotten anxious and began pacing the floor. Not that I was really complaining though, it was giving me enough time to prepare myself from this inevitable conversation.

But all too soon, his pacing stopped and he halted by the door. He turned abruptly to face me, his arms still crossed but his forefinger and thumb holding his chin. His eyebrows pulled together, lips thinning out as he frowned and his dimple popping out as he did. "We're going to talk about last night."

I nod slowly, my expression unwavering. "Yeah, I agreed to. Like twenty minutes ago."

He blinked at me and the crease in his forehead deepened before he dropped his hands to his sides with a light slap. "I didn't expect you to agree. I felt pressured and needed to think, but I'm good now."

"So am I."

He nods and another awkward silence fills the room. My bare-feet barely touch the ground as my legs hang off the bed, and feeling nervous I swing them slowly back and forth. Harry's gaze shifts to my legs, seeing my anxious movements and looking back up at me. His eyes soften and his shoulders fall before he's moving across the room until he's sitting on the bed next to me. He sighs loudly as he does, lifting his hand to run his fingers through his now loose hair. I can't do anything else but stare at him as he begins to push it back, running his fingers through the strands until he's holding his hair back in his other hand. I'm in complete awe with him when he grabs the hair tie around his wrist, his biceps on full display as he swiftly tied his hair back into a bun again. It came out so perfectly messy and I envied his ability to get it to look like that. Especially when I couldn't even get my buns to come out with that cute messy look, no matter how hard I tried. Why was he so perfect at everything?

He drops his hands into his lap, shoulders slightly hunching over as he slid his gaze to me. His eyebrow arched and it was then I realized I had been staring at him for far too long and I quickly looked elsewhere. "So, you remember everything from last night?" He asks after another moment of silence, his tone unsure and cautious.

I nodded slowly, biting my lip as the images of us dancing together, us sneaking into the boys restroom, Harry's hand in my underwear, and me on my knees in front of Harry, flickered across my eyelids like a fast slide show. I felt my cheeks flush at the last image of Harry's face when he climaxed flashing in my head that I couldn't restrain myself from briefly glancing down at his clothed crotch. Just as quick as I had looked, I turn away with my cheeks burning red. "Yeah, I remember."

"Everything?" He mumbled.

I nod. "Everything."

"We were drunk."

"We were."

"We weren't thinking."

"No, we weren't."

"We didn't know what we were doing."

...Didn't I though? "We didn't."

"You hesitated."

I finally turn to look at him, my eyebrows drawing together as he blinked at me. "What?"

"You hesitated when I said that."

"No I didn't."

"Yes you did.

"I didn't hesitate."