Abstract

Chapter 13

 (A great song to listen too while reading this is Half a Heart with the rain in the background, and also Over Again with the rain :)

Harry's POV

"I'd like to take you up on your offer." She teases. We go from sexy bedroom scene to casual conversation within seconds. Weren't her fingers under my shirt a few seconds ago...?

"Which offer?" I ask. She's not blushing, so I can tell that it's not my offer to fuck her.

"I'll go to dinner with you again, if you are acting nice, like today." 

Dinner? No, I have to do something much more interesting. A club? Possibly. Maybe if I get some alcohol in her I can make something happen. I'm not sure though. Maybe she'll prefer some stupid romantic shit. 

"How about I take you to a museum?" I've wanted to take her for a while.

"Sounds fun enough." She gives me a smile, which I probably don't deserve. 

She stands up, walking out of the room. I follow her, watching as she flicks on the light. It's clouding over again, the unpredictable French weather taking another victim.  She pours the macaroni onto two paper plates, and she also puts a pile of grapes on each. It's nothing like the food I usually eat, which is fancy and expensive. She flicks on a light, only to have it turn off by itself. Followed by it is are the rest of the lights, leaving only the tiny candle that was on our table. 

"What the heck?" She asks. She tries flipping the switch back on, but it doesn't do anything. 

I stand up, walking to stand by her in the dark room. Her eyes are frantic, and I can admit that I'm slightly upset that our lunch turned into such a disaster. 

"The power is out." She concludes the obvious.

"No shit," I mutter, trying to think of a plan. The rain is back, cracking thunder close to us. 

"Oh my god, oh my god." Adella starts repeating. 

"Shh, its fine." I whisper to her. She searches desperately for matches and candles, only to be missing both.

"It's fine, you're fine, lets just go upstairs. I have some candles." I lead her to my flat. She follows closely behind. She doesn't seem like the type of person to panic in emergencies, but I figure that this probably never happened at her small home. 

I go to get candles, leaving her on the couch. My power is out too, and the wrapping on my front door implies that Aimeé is also without electricity. I ignore the door, but I hear Adella open it from down the hall. Fuck. I hope she doesn't mention what I said earlier to her...

"What do you want?" I ask, lighting a match as Adella and I both stand in to doorway. 

"I was wondering if her power was out?" Aimeé responds, completely ignoring my presence. 

"Yes, it is. Goodbye." I shut the door, walking back into the dark kitchen to get more candles. Adella gapes at my rudeness, but doesn't protest. 

After I've collected a fair amount of candles and placed them across the room, I join Adella on the couch. She's looking at a sketch pad of mine, and I silently pray that she hasn't seen the sketches of her. The lights flicker a few times, casting shadows across the ink. 

"These are amazing, Harry." She mutters, flipping to the next page. 

Not many people compliment my art. It's mostly blurred faces and sceneries, images of gory thoughts out of a horror book. 

"Thanks," I say, unsure of how to take the compliment. 

"Who's this?" She asks, holding the book so that I can see it. 

It's an old sketch of my sister, back when we spoke and she begged me to paint her. It's not exactly her though. I added more skeleton-like features, giving her dark circles under her eyes. Over the years, the picture has become blurry and faded. 

"My sister." 

She nods slowly. Her brows are furrowed, a look of concentration on her face. It's something she does a lot, I've come to notice. 

It's odd how it can be so wrong and feel so right, yet be so right and feel so wrong. When we're able to have these romantic moments, it's hard to picture myself trying to sleep with her. She's in her element, getting up to study the novels perched on my bookshelf. When she's nervous and flustered, it's a lot easier to make a move on her. 

I find her looking at me, smiling softly when my eyes meet hers. She checks the window, but the rain still continues to hit against the glass. 

"We should do something." I inquire. 

She looks at my as if I'm crazy. "Harry, it's pouring."

"Yes, it is." I grab a coat for myself and a coat for her, throwing it at her from across the room. 

Her mouth falls open when I walk out the front door, and I call her name as I run down the stairs. 

After a few seconds of standing in the rain, she follows me out of the complex. She starts laughing at my hair on my forehead, brushing it from my eyes. The gesture is casual, but she stops laughing after my hair is smoothed back onto my head. 

Adella's POV

He doesn't break eye-contact with me, his smile now faded from his lips. I look away, staring up at the sky. I'm soaked through already, my hair dripping down my back. Harry doesn't stop looking at me, and I have to blink to keep the water out of my eyes. 

"De toute beauté." Beautiful he whispers. 

His hands touch the skin of my face, cupping my flushed cheeks. The contrast between the misty background and his jade eyes is stunning, and I wish I could take a picture to capture the pure beauty of him. Ever aspect of him blows me away.

His lips form the French words. "Embrassez-moi." Kiss me.

And for some reason, I do. 

I don't remember dreaming of kissing this boy, but I find him tasting just like I imagined. His hands rest on my hips, pulling me closer towards him. The rain doesn't stop me from feeling like I'm on fire. His tongue grazes the inside of my mouth, and he tastes faintly of cigars and mint. I'm unsure where to put my hands, so I wrap them tightly around his neck. The only way I am able to describe the feeling of being with him is a crossfire between heaven and hell. He pulls away for a split second, whispering "Adella..." But I reconnect his lips to mine as he finished the word. It seems to last forever, and I wish it would. This boy, who I'm supposed to hate, is the one hole in my plan. It's the kiss that I never dreamed of. 

I pull away first, breathing heavily.  My lack of sanity is almost as big as my lack of breath. 

"Adella," He tucks my hair behind my ear. 

"Sorry," I whisper, hoping that he doesn't hear me. 

"Sorry for what?" He chuckles lightly, running his fingers across my palm. 

"For kissing you," I'm already beginning to regret my choice. 

"It's not a big deal. " He shrugs. "I liked it, I don't know about you." 

I liked it more than I'm supposed to, that's the problem. 

"I know how you feel about women and relationships and I don't want to be lead on." I'm honest with him. It's one thing to kiss him, but it's another thing to start an entire relationship built on a lie that he actually cares for me. 

"I would still like to go to the museum with you, if you would like." 

I turn slightly away from him. "I don't know, I'll think about it. I'm going to go dry off." 

He watches me go, not bothering to follow.