Sweaters [hs]

three

11:53am |Portland

Harry was taken aback by her sudden bluntness, his mouth agape; green eyes wide.

“Why do you care?” Noah repeated quietly, dropping her eyes from his.

“Everyone deserves some care.” Harry responded, gnawing on his bottom lip. “What are you doing later on tonight?”

Noah’s eyes widened, as she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

“Did you just ask me out on a date?” Noah blurted out, her cheeks splashing pink.

“I believe so, Noah.” Harry smiled, dimples indenting his cheeks.

“I guess I could go.” She shrugged her shoulders, adjusting her bag strap.

“I’ll pick you up 7:30,” Harry exchanged information with Noah, as she stood to leave.

x     x     x

Noah slid into a high waisted, jean shorts, a black sweater, and she pushed converse on her feet. She had straightened her hair, and place a white flower crown upon it.

She checked her phone, 7:26pm. Noah collected her belongings, and headed downstairs.

She looked at herself in the mirror, not bothering to put on an excessive amount of makeup, she just stuck with eyeliner, mascara, and red lipstick.

Suddenly, a knocking sounded at her apartment door, startling her out of her wits.

She opened it, being greeted by Harry, and his infamous grin.

“Are you ready to go?” Harry rocked on both of his feet, shoving his hands inside of his pockets.

“Of course,” Noah shut her door, locking it, and followed Harry into his car.

Noah loved the way his jeans hugged his long legs, and the way he had cleverly used the sleeves of his black and red flannel, as a headband in his hair.

Noah basically loved everything about him.

x     x     x

After about a thirty minute drive, they finally arrived at a small café.

Harry politely opened the door, leading Noah into the diminutive space. The cashier smiled in acknowledgment, remembering Harry’s face.

Harry led her to a booth, crossing his fingers in front of himself.

Noah copied his actions, cocking her head to the side in thought.

“I have a question,” Harry quirked an eyebrow, biting his lip as his eyes scanned her attire.

“Shoot,” She smiled at the oncoming traffic as they passed by her.

“Why do you always wear sweaters?” His question caught her attention, her smile fading.

“Because I’m cold,” that was her excuse of why she wore a sweater every day. She is too scared to tell anyone the truth.

 x   x   x

toodlesss