Virgin Mary

Deleted Chapter 2

“Oh,” Harry said striding over to me with a sly smirk. He stopped short, a meter between us as his eyes turned to playful slits and he bit his bottom lip. “Can we talk about these? I’ve been meaning to for a while.”

I straightened up, dropping the underwear I had in my hand and watching as he picked up a frilly pink pair.

My cheeks immediately turned pink as I jumped forward to snag them from him, his arm and half his body veered away from me, holding them up higher as I made a jump for it.

“I think they’re sexy.” He mused stretching them with his pointer fingers and watching the fabric expand.

“Stop,” I whined in defeat, arms crossing and lips pouting as he took the mickey.

“No, I’m genuinely curious as to when this started. Like, did you just start wearing them, and why didn’t you tell me?” Harry was enjoying this way too much for my liking.

It was embarrassing really, although I knew it shouldn’t be. I still wore the full coverage knickers to bed, but with Harry I wore sexier underwear. Underwear that made me feel confident and alive. Underwear that he would stroke and toy with before taking them down my legs.

I knew he had noticed them, I watched as his eyes lit up with every new pair he saw, but I didn’t know that he had been aware of just how many I had.

After all, I had only begun wearing them in university under the instruction of Alexis who said that under no circumstances was I ever to wear anything that fully covered my arse at any time.

It was easy to throw all the old pairs out, but difficult to spend eight pounds on a pair of dental floss undies.

The pair Harry had in his hands was shot into my face, falling to the ground when I didn’t catch it in time. “Excuse me?” I asked picking it up and flinging them back at him.

“I like them, means I can finally buy you a pair or two.” He smirked taking a step forward. I rolled my eyes but stepped into his embrace. His arms came around me, lips nose buried in my neck. “Tell me you have a matching set.”

“No.”

“Babe.” He whined this time. His lip ring puckering forward along with his bottom lip. Unable to resist, I made a move to gently flick it.

All too quickly, his fingers wrapped around my wrist and he pulled me into him, trapping my body alongside his while he held me away from the drawer.

He was wearing a prize winning smirk as I struggled against him.

On some level I should have predicted that he would have done this, but I wasn’t fast enough for him.

“I know you have one in here.” He teased, snooping through my garment drawer hastily, knowing that I was seconds away from breaking free.

“I’ll find it if you just fuck off.” I whispered harshly and he chuckled deeply before letting me go.

“Love when you get all feisty.” I ignored the way my heart flipped, instead, focusing on trying to find the deep blue bra that I knew was hidden somewhere. Harry leaned against the wall, long legs crossed over each other as he watched me dig. I could just picture the smug expression he had on as I huffed in frustration.

I could find the delicate lace knickers, but the upper half was missing.

“I can help you, you know.” He sing-songed, but I batted away his hand and opened my drawer wider.

Snug in the back right corner was the garment in question and I quickly enclosed it in my fist.

“Found it.” I smirked and Harry immediately sidled in beside me.

“I wanna see.” He murmured and I shook my head.

“Nice try mister.”

“You said I could see it.” He pouted making grabby hands for me.

Harry was a toddler, I swear.

The tattoos that laced his skin and the piercings that protruded from three different places on his face gave the wrong impression. Harry was more like a sugar-crazed four year old than the twenty two year old punk he was often mistaken for.

More often than not, Harry got his way with me simply because of his angelic features. The way his eyes went doe-y when he wanted to stay in bed for five more minutes or the way I would hand him something simply because outstretched his arms with a big pout was an unfair advantage.

“You’re an idiot you know that?” I teased on my way to the bathroom.

“Yes! Yes, I love you!” He cheered to my back as I gave him the middle finger.

Stripping down, I avoided to look at myself in the mirror.

It was nearing midnight and my make-up was smudged from the hot air of the pub. I knew my hair was a frazzled mess, and my skin was pale from the exhaustion of the day.

I heard Harry call for me just as I was clipping my bra in place. Bending forwards, I lifted my breasts up to give a bigger impression and told him to just wait dammit.

Being with him when I was back in my teens made me anxious. I knew I had no reason to be, but there was some level of pressure now.

Harry loved me, and he loved teasing me. Our banter back and forth was easier now that I had learned more comebacks and was desensitized to a majority of his stupid jokes.

But something that always made me weirdly paranoid was what I wore.

He loved me when I wore the long dresses and high cut collars – and he loved me with my outfits now as well. And yet, I still gave myself a double check to make sure that he wouldn’t make fun of me. He had picked fun at my outfits in the past, which, to be honest were a fair degree more conservative than the ones I was wearing.

The first time Harry had seen me in something other than my granny panties, he had taken in a deeper breath, something that Emma had ensured was a good thing, a veryvery good thing. I craved that effect on him. Consciously choosing underwear that I thought would get a good reaction out of him. I craved the breathless look on his face every time I wore something and this was no different.

Twisting the door handle, I took a deep breath.

He looked, breathless.