book club

twelve || bruises

Somewhere Only We Know - Keane

Can't Help Falling in Love - Fleet Foxes

The sun is emerging through the darkness, the sky is grey and the first birds begin to sing. Harry is asleep across from me, his pink lips in a parted pout, the crease between his eyebrows is nonexistent and his green eyes are resting. Dark eyelashes fan across high-set cheekbones, and I can hear him softly snoring.

"Harry?," I say softly, shaking him until he sleepily opens his eyes. "I have to get home."

He wipes his eyes and looks around. "Yeah, you do have to get home. Let's go." He says, pushing himself to his feet and reaching out for my hand.

"Did you get any sleep?" He asks.

I try and tame my brown hair by finger combing the straw out of the ends and shrug.

"Not really..." I say.

He rubs his face, yawns, and walks down the stairs, me carefully following him. I'm sure I look like a mess, my brown hair in tangles and my dress littered with dust. My feet are dirty as well, I still am without a pair of shoes.

When we reach the truck Harry looks down at my feet. "Shit, I keep forgetting you don't have shoes." He mutters.

His deep voice is gravelly and husky with sleep. His green eyes are dull and his skin is pale.

"We have to get you cleaned up. Get in." He says.

I do as he tells me and the drive begins in silence, with the faint sound of the radio.

"You did sleep. I watched you." Harry finally says.

I furrow my eyebrows and frown. "You watched me? That's very Edward Cullen of you." I reply.

He laughs. "Edward Cullen? I'd rather be a werewolf. It would highlight my masculinity."

I shake my head. "Nope, you're too pale." I reply.

He purses his lips and glances at me. "Well I'm going to the lake on Friday to work on my tan. You should come."

We pull in front of my house after a while and I get out of his truck.

"I had fun." I smile.

Harry unbuckles his seatbelt and leans towards me. His breath is warm and minty as it fans across my face. His scent is intoxicating, spearmint and the straw that's still littered on his black jeans. His eyes are wide, lips parted. I feel something being pushed in my hand, a piece of paper with numbers on it.

"Call me, yeah? I'll pick you up Friday." He says.

I step away from his truck and he speeds off, leaving me there with bare feet and a tattered dress. And then my mind goes to my parents, they're more than likely awake already, checked my room, knowing I'm not there.

What do I do?

I develop a plan, one that I highly doubt will work, but now, I've got no other option. I pad up the pathway and open the front door, shutting it behind me. My mother is standing right in the foyer, arms crossed over her chest and a crease between her carefully plucked eyebrows.

"Sup." I throw her a nod of the head and attempt to hide in the bathroom.

She blocks the door and purses her lips, taking in my disheveled appearance and dirty feet.

"Where have you been?" She asks.

"Um, I was outside. Meditating? I was meditating." I say quickly.