Passion || h.s.

Chapter 4

The sizzling of the potatoes against the pan was the only thing I heard while I quietly unpacked boxes. Harry decided to cook potatoes and steak, only because that was really all he bought. It wasn't like I still wasn't waiting for explanations from him, but I could wait. I set up some pictures up on the mantle of the fire place, admiring them. One was of my brother and I. He and I were similar in looks, both with black hair and blue eyes. He was much taller than I was, getting the trait from my father. Another frame held all four of us together at the beach, sitting side by side with our backs to the camera. 

"That your family?" Harry asked from the kitchen.

"Yeah," I murmured, turning toward him. He was emptying the potatoes to a plate, tossing the pan in the sink. I looked to the dining room table which was set perfectly, a candle in the middle with a flower I had sitting on the window sill. 

"Candle lit dinner? If I were thinking too hard, I'd say you were trying to seduce me." I wiggled my eyebrows at him, sitting at the chair across from his. He smiled lightly, laughing with me as he sat down, grabbing some fried potatoes from the plate in front of us. I dove straight for the steak, taking a big piece and dropping it on the plate. 

"Na, I've got a girlfriend for that," Harry said, reaching for his fork. I tried to hide my disappointment, my energy dropping. 

"So lets talk over this living arrangement?" I asked, cutting my steak up. 

"Well, this is my apartment," he said as I reached for mash potatoes, "but you have no where to go. Seeing as my mom let you stay here, and there is no where for you to go, I guess we can share." 

"And what if I don't want to share an apartment with a complete stranger?" I asked, studying his face. His smile rose in amusement. 

"If you think you can't trust me, ask me anything. I'm an open book." 

I brought my lip between my teeth, thinking about a good question. "Why are you so weird? Like, first you're in my apartment-" 

"My apartment," he corrected between chews. 

"Okay, your apartment, at three in the morning." 

"Next." 

I choked on a potatoe. "You said anything." 

"I said next." 

I sighed. "Fine. What did you take from my box?" 

"Something." 

"You are not a good open book you know," I stated. The food was excellent, better than I tasted before. Harry could tell I liked it, smiling when he was me go for seconds. 

"It's okay, you'll get used to it. So I'll take the spare room?" 

"No, I didn't agree yet!" I put my fork down and pushed away from the table. I walked to the kitchen aware of Harry's eyes on me, but I didn't look back. Before I could turn around, I felt his hand on my back. Instinctively I pushed him away, backing up toward the fridge. "Don't do that," I said, my hands shaking. I couldn't help but be scared, although I didn't know why I was. For some reason I knew that Harry wouldn't hurt me, and he made me feel safe. 

"I'm sorry. Look, I'm not going to hurt you okay." Harry put his hands up in a sign of surrender, and I nodded, walking back to meet him. 

"You get the spare room, and you have to make sure it's okay with your girlfriend." I told him, putting my hand out to shake his. He gripped mine with force, and it took everything I had to hold myself up. He was so close to me, and the scent of peppermint  and something almost lilac littered the air, putting me almost in a high. Heat radiated  from him, and he pulled me closer.