19 Rules [on-going]

C h a p t e r 1 1

Harry's POV

She finally turns around, emerging out of Haley’s strong embrace. She stares at me with her soft brown eyes, her hair slightly moving along to the rhythm of the unexpected breeze.

“Harry…did you eavesdrop in our conversation?” It takes me a minute to realize she actually asked me the question, so I shake my head in denial. Her face doesn’t have a real expression, it’s hard for me to read it.

“No, not a word.” I lie, because I assume she seems to be hoping that I didn’t hear it, so I let her feel that way.

“We were just, casually talking you know…” she fumbles at explaining, “It’s okay,”

She walks towards me and pulls out a tiny twig from my hair and giggles. Her laugh echoes through my head, like some kind of soothing symphony. A mental tintinnabulation forms inside my mind.

Her eyes are hidden by the crinkles that form around it and I go on and place my clammy hands on her face. Her skin is soft, and her cheeks are bony.

“I confess to have heard a little bit of the conversation,”

“Uh…what part?”

“The part where you said that you really really really really really like me. Did I say too many really-s?”

“Hmm…” she leans back, taking support of an erect tree trunk and looks away. She never stares back at me as much as I would like her too.

“Why did you rent me the room?” she asks, still refusing to look at me, so I shift and stand right in front of her sight.

“Because, my dad expects me to earn so I thought I’ll rent half of my apartment and it worked out great didn’t it?”

“But the rent’s hardly anything for what I’m getting…”

“The lesser the pay I get, the more effect it has on my dad. He probably thinks I’m working my ass off. It’s plenty,” she finally smiles, and I smile back at her.

She smiles a lot, she really does. I think that’s why I smile a lot, and then I find her staring at my dimples, which is a shame because they’d look better on her. Every time she laughs, I can see the subtle dents form on each of her cheeks. It’s like she’s so happy that she can force a dimple upon herself.

“So how long are we supposed to be here?”

“We leave tomorrow morning,” I kiss her forehead and leave her alone, even though I don’t want to.

My mind plays back the time when she kissed me for the first time, then when she kissed me again in the tent. Her lips are the softest I’ve ever touched, but then again, I have felt just one other pair.

Diana.

I never realized that the last time I saw her, was truly going to be the last time I would see her. She had done it so many times before, but she always came back.