Annabelle stopped splashing and started rubbing her eyes, so Harry also stopped splashing. He swam over to her and grabbed her waist, pulling her close to him. He wanted to feel her, he wanted to feel that spark she gives his body. He wanted to feel the butterflies.
She stared at him, her hands holding onto his arms. Her eyes looked down, examining his arms and chest, all of his tattoos. He secretly hoped she liked all of them, wishing he would look at him this way more often.
Harry could feel some hair hanging down on his forehead, but he didn't want to let go of Annabelle to move it.
Her eyes looked up to his. Man, she has beautiful eyes. Harry has never seen any like hers before. Not purely brown, but not purely green, but not a mix. The dark brown turns to green, and it makes him wonder how a girl could be so beautiful.
He let his eyes look down to her lips. They were also intriguing. Her top lip was smaller than her bottom lip, but they were both a dark pink, as if they were chapped. But they were so smooth, he could tell they weren't chapped.
Then he felt her hand on his forehead, pushing away his hair. He froze at the contact of her skin on his, in a foreign place. He then realized that she was so close to him, closer than ever before. Her soft, bare legs were almost wrapped around his waist. Her arms and hands on his. Her face only inches away. But then she removed her hand, and swam away, right out from under him.
What did he do? Did he say something? Did he give her a weird look? What did he do?
Harry watched as she climbed back up, leaving him alone in the water. He stared at the large rock she used to climb up on, blankly. What did he do wrong? They were having a moment. He could have kissed her. He should have. She was so close to him, in his arms. He should have kissed her.
Harry quickly swam out of the water and climbed up, seeing Annabelle had already changed into her dry clothes. His wet t-shirt was hanging from the tree, slightly moving from the wind.
There was a small wet-spot on her back from her wet bra. He had to quickly look away and block his mind from any dirty thoughts.
He slid off his boxers and pulled his jeans on while she wasn't looking. He didn't want his jeans to be wet, and hey, a man needs a breather every once and a while.
As he walked up to Annabelle, he shook his hair and pushed it out of his face. She was walking towards the car, pulling her wet and curly hair up into a bun. Harry likes her natural hair. She should wear it down and curly more often.
She got in the car, so he followed her, making sure to put his drenched boxers and shirt in the trunk first. She sat in the passengers seat, her body turned to face the window. What did he do?
Harry inwardly sighed (he has come to the conclusion that he does this, a lot), and started the car. He's going to bring her back here, soon. He is going to make it special.
An hour later, they were close to her house and Harry was dreading the fact that he would have to wait until at least tomorrow to see her again. It is only seven p.m.
He wanted so badly to grab her hand and hold it tightly in his again, but he knew she was upset. He didn't want to push it any farther. When he stopped the car in her driveway, she looked over at him. Her wavy bangs covered her forehead, and there was one curl hanging down to the side of her face.
Harry reach over, and tucked it behind her ear. She gave him a small smile, and he returned it. But before she could get out of the car, he reach over and grabbed her wrist. She quickly, but somehow gently, pulled it away.
"Sorry, I just," he sighed. "I was just wanting to know if I could have your number?" Harry pursed his lips. She pulled out her phone and let him type in his number, and he sent himself a text. "Thanks." He said, offering a small smile. She did the same, and got out of the car. He watched as she walked inside, then leaned back in his seat and let out a big breath.
He couldn't help but smile. Sure, he somehow upset her, but overall, it has been an amazing day with Annabelle.
Right before he pulled out, he got a text message. Expecting it to be from Annabelle, he quickly unlocked my phone.
*From Sandy,
Hey, cutie. Me, you, at my house for dinner. Tomorrow night. See ya then.*
YOU ARE READING
Speak |h.s. a.u.|
Fanfiction"You want to know something, Annabelle?" Harry asked. She slightly nodded. "I'm okay with the fact that you don't speak. I like you anyways." •ongoing and editing• •kind of slow updates when those depressive spells hit you know what i'm saying•
