Chimera | H.S Mature

28.

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*Samantha's POV*

Harry lingered in the living room as I changed, every so often I'd hear him pick something up and mumble a quite 'shit' when he dropped it.

The contents of my wardrobe was thrown across the room, jeans and skirts littered the floor, shirts and dresses were flung on the chair, shoes were set side by side at the foot of the bed. With each passing moment I was becoming more and more worked up, nothing looked right, nothing matched, everything I held to my body made me look either too casual or like I was trying too hard.

"Come on" I whispered to myself, rummaging through all the clothes I had previously rejected. At the bottom of a pile beside the small chair I had in the corner of my room I found a black skater dress. The fabric was thick enough to offer me some protection against the cool night air but with the low cut neckline and the silky fabric, it was fancy enough to wear to wherever Harry was taking me. He was dressed in a pair of tight black jeans and a white dress shirt, so I felt like this would be acceptable.

"Sam? Are you almost ready?" Harry called through the closed door.

"Yes, I'm just coming!" I replied, slipping the dress over my body and stalling for a few moments while I fought with the zip on the back. I slipped my tired feet into a pair of slightly worn black converse before gathering my hair into a messy high ponytail. I brushed some light pink lipstick over my lips, giving up on the rest of my make-up and simply leaving it as natural as I had worn it to work.

"Ok" I breathed, dashing around my room and gathering my phone, purse, keys and lipstick into a small pink handbag and slipping my black leather jacket over my shoulders. I glanced briefly at my reflection in the mirror. I sighed, resigning myself to that fact that I had no more time to improve the face that gazed back at me and left to join Harry. His back was to me as he watched the sun fully set beneath the horizon, the last orange glow that filled the room disappearing with it and leaving us to bask in the warm glow of the lamps dotted around the room. His figure was tall and lean, silhouetted against the deepening night outside. His back was broad, and the tight shirt he wore was stretched thin across the skin as he reach beside him to draw the curtains.

I cleared my throat quietly to make him aware of my presence. Harry spun on the spot an appeared to choke on air, which he quickly covered with a subtle cough.

"Is this alright?" I asked, brushing out the skirt of my dress so that it sat right. "I don't know where we're going".

Harry said nothing for a moment, simply gazing at me with wide eyes and slack jaw. With each moment that silence lingered between the two of us I could feel the self-doubt creeping into my veins. Suddenly the dress felt too small, too revealing and inappropriate. I squirmed beneath Harry's gaze, which had settled itself on the plunging neck line of me dress, revealing perhaps more cleavage than I had shown to any man for many years. The weight of his stare made me both uncomfortable and yet elicited a strange buzz in the pit of my stomach. My cheeks flushed and the palms of my hands became clammy as I fidgeted with them nervously in front of my body.

Harry seemed to realise that he had been staring too long at my body and snapped his eyes up to my own where he still seemed to falter for words.

"Harry?" I asked nervously, fidgeting slightly on the spot.

"You look good!" he blurted, his voice one octave below a yell as he spluttered the first words that came to his distracted mind. "Good, yeah really good" he rambled, his face flushing a bright crimson as I looked at him with raised brown.