Muse

Chapter Twenty Eight

Harry and I are sat on the couch, his eyes glued to the TV while I fold my laundry. His feet are kicked up on the coffee table and the remote is squeezed in his hand, his chest rising up and down slowly while some action movie flashes across the screen.

"Alright, I'm all done." I say mostly to myself as I finish with folding everything and setting it down in the basket.

"Finally, come sit by me." Harry asks, well, more like demands.

I scoot my body over to his and melt into his side, one of his arms slithering over my shoulder. I look up at the screen and find myself lost, I have no idea what is going on in this movie but I don't really care to know. Right as I'm about to ask him to pick something else, the room goes black. The TV is shut off, and every light in every room is blacked out.

Harry walks over to the window and pulls open the curtains and the moonlight spills in, and every building outside is no longer lit up either.

"Damn, looks like the power is out. Guess we'll have to find something else to occupy ourselves." He says sarcastically, as if he doesn't have sex in mind.

"I guess so." I hum in response, not playing along with what he obviously wants to do. I'm just not in the mood right now, but I'm not sure how to tell him that.

I lay down on the couch and nuzzle my body into the curves of it and Harry squishes his body next to mine.

We both relax like that for a moment and I begin to feel myself doze off, but of course, Harry interrupts my slumber by pressing his lips to my neck, the bit of facial hair scratching me. His heavy breathing tickles my neck and I shrug my shoulders up to shield myself from his itchy face.

"It tickles." I croak out, completely unamused.

"You like it." He chuckles and kisses the top of my head.

"Sometimes I do, but not right now." I groan and pull the blanket that's hung on the back of the couch over my body and head.

Harry snakes his arms around my stomach and slowly lifts up my shirt and I move his hand away and tug my shirt back down.

Then his hand begins to travel down the back of my pants and I have to pull his hand away once more. I'm getting sick of this.

"Stop, I'm too tired to do anything." I whine. I'm also feeling a little self conscious lately. I feel like my thighs have gotten bigger, actually, my whole body is getting bigger.

I've really been eating a lot lately, it's all been mindlessly of course. I just keep eating to eat, not even because I'm hungry and it's starting to show. Letting Harry touch me makes me worried, what if he notices I've gotten fatter too? What if that grosses him out?

I guess if it does then he is not the man for me, he'd be no man at all if he mocks a woman's insecurities, especially her weight.

But I'm still not in the mood for his touch, feely, cuddly mood. As much as it pains me to say that.

"Okay, whatever." And with that he stands up and walks away. I'm not sure where he goes and a part of me doesn't care to look but the other part of me is dying to know.

I slide the blanket off my head, my hair sticking up and becoming staticky. Harry's sat on a couch across from me, his phone lighting up his face and a blanket laid across his lap.

Laying my head back down my eyes begin to droop shut and I doze off.

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