The Dead and The Damned

Part 3

The Dead and The Damned

Chapter 3

After attempting to sleep with a pounding headache, I finally gave up, turning over on the bed to see daylight streaming through the wooden planks boarded onto the windows. I sit up and stretch, last night's events coming back to me in a rush. Harry. That dick. OOOOO i want some cereal. wait what.

I throw the covers back, standing up and trying to locate the kitchen with no luck. I basically just open random doors until I find it. Oh wait - this is Harry's bedroom. Well, temporary bedroom. He's curled up in his bed, his mouth hanging open slightly as he snores quietly. He has no shirt on, so I can see his toned chest perfectly and the tattoos that run up and across it. Fuck he's so HOT. My subconscious waves a finger at me, as if saying "no no Sophie he's a dick stop it". I grab the door handle and slam the door shut, scampering off to the kitchen. There's a few boxes of food on the counter, and I dig through them, locating the cereal and sighing loudly as I find out there's no milk. Ugh. Whatever.

"What's wrong, love?" a raspy morning voice says from behind me. I practically jump out of my skin. I turn around, my back digging into the counter, and see Harry leaning against the doorframe smirking. His eyes are slightly red and puffy as if he's been crying. But my eyes wander down to his pajamas - or lack of. He's in nothing but a pair of black boxers, and no shirt. OHMYGODHESSOHOTOHMYGODJESUSHAVEMERCY. I purse my lips, trying to hide the blush rising to my cheeks with no avail. And then I realized he asked me a question. Shit.

"We have no milk." I mutter, turning back to the food boxes. "Why do you care, anyway?" I add, my tone cold.

"So you're still irritated about yesterday? Figures." he shoots back.

"I could've died!" I wheel around, yelling. Wait, people are still sleeping. Oh gosh. My bad.

"I could've too!" he yells.

"The zombie didn't even come near you! It was trying to eat me, and you didn't even bother to help. Fucking prick." Harry looks really pissed off now. Oh shit. What did I dowhatdididowhatohcrapohcrap - he storms over to me, stopping just short off my face. He towers over me by a good three inches, and he looks down at me, his gaze intense and unwavering.

"Call me a prick one more time." he growls, before pushing me back against the counter with his body. He ducks his head forward, his lips inches from mine as he whispers, "I can fucking destroy you. I would honestly love to hear you scream my name while I fucked you bloody senseless." My stomach floods with butterflies, and my knees are shaky. God, he knows just what to say to make me melt like butter. He seems to know what he's doing to me, for he bites his lip, seriously turning me on. I shove him away, my cheeks burning, making me furious at how he can just walk in and control my feelings.

"J-just..just go away Harry. Don't talk to me."

"Suit yourself, angel. I know what I do to you." he sneers, grabbing a roll and padding back into his bedroom. Little shit.

___

"But Sam, can't we leave now?" I plead, noticing how Harry isn't in the car.

"We can't. We're waiting for Harry." he says, hands posed on the steering wheel. I mutter a curse under my breath, crossing my arms and turning to look out the window. I nestle farther into my seat as that stupid boy with his stupid pretty eyes and his stupid perfect curls and his stupid perfect body walks out the front door and slides into the car. He pokes Mack in the side, earning an admiring squeal from her. She bursts into giggles as he pulls a silly face on her, and I sink even farther into my seat, trying not to look in the rearview mirror. Stupid Harry.

"Soph, if you scoot down any farther you're gonna choke yourself with the seatbelt." Sam mutters. I swat him in the shoulder, pretending not to notice Harry smirking in the back seat. Sam starts the car, pulling out of the driveway and starting back onto the open road. Halfway down the road, however, Mackenzie ends up throwing up all over, but luckily made it outside before she did. But - there's always a fucking but - she had to sit up front, resulting in me sitting next to - you guessed it - Harry. I keep my arms crossed over my chest, refusing to look at him. Zayn is sprawled out in the back seat, sleeping, so he's not much help.

"It's a shame that Mack is sick." Harry says, his voice low.

"First off, don't call her Mack. Only I get to. Second of all, yeah. It's a shame." I say, not making eye contact. I hear the seat shift underneath him as he leans toward me.

"I can call her what I want. Just like I can call you angel when I want." he says, his breath warm on my neck. I squirm under his gaze.

"Stop it, you prick."

"You know what I said I would do if you called me prick again." Harry reaches his hand forward, pressing it on my thigh gently. I'm too shocked to flinch away. He slides his hand slowly up my leg, stopping short of where my leg actually ends and my waist starts. I sneak a glance over at him, noticing the way his eyes are now such a dark green that they resemble obsidian. His mouth tugs up into a smirk, and he draws his hand away from my leg to press his thumb to my lips, dragging it slowly across them.

"Do you know how badly I want to kiss you?" he whispers. Nope nope nOPE. THAT'S WHERE WE STOP. I grab his hand, yanking it off and placing it back near him.

"Damn you, Harry." I growl, unbuckling and climbing in back with Zayn. I push his legs off the seat, not caring when he jumps awake, and take a seat beside him. Harry snickers in front of us. And the funny thing is, as he's laughing, I can't help but feel a tinge of...I don't know..something, like when you see something so beautiful it just makes you all tingly inside. That's how I felt looking at Harry, and I hated myself for it.