Mercy

Chapter Seventeen

You know that absolute horrifying feeling you get when you realize something, and it triggers this non-existent rock to plummet to the bottom of your stomach and as it hits the acid, the acid splatters around and sizzles like the panic sensation inside your fast beating heart? The moment right now couldn’t call for a better time to explain this kind of panic, anxious feeling.

 

As I was brushing my teeth next to Harry with a new toothbrush he swore just came out of a pack in the drawers, I hadn’t realized the one thing I should have right when I woke up. I was too busy bumping my hip to Harry’s, and him returning the mischievous, childish gesture every time. We stared at each other in the mirror, laughing and sometimes flicking water from the running faucet at each other.

 

His hand tugged at my one of the loops of my shorts. It felt uncomfortable to sleep in my regular clothes, and wearing them afterwards was just as annoying. But I ignored that as Harry kept pulling at the loops of my shorts causing me to move in the direction he tugged because of his impressive strength and my weakened, tired state.

 

I slapped him on the arm while he stretched next to me having finished brushing his own teeth. I still had excessive amounts of foamy white toothpaste around my mouth as I scrubbed my teeth cleaned from all the germs and the aftertaste of an awful hangover. Harry finally ceased the loop-and-tug crap and wrapped his strong arms around my waist from behind, clearly waiting on for the kiss he was determined to get.

 

When I bent down to rinse my mouth, my butt grounded onto his front. All the more not surprising when he chuckled, his hands on the part most upper of my thighs now. I rolled my eyes at his indecency.

 

With my lips still wet from the water and small droplets falling from my chin, I turned around just to be met by his warm lips. His hands traveled to squeeze my hips, then beneath my thighs where I bent my knees and caught him by surprise when I jumped. My legs wrapped around his waist, his hands beneath my knees for support. Our lips moved at a normal pace, not too urgent and not too slow. The perfect pace that I wanted and that somehow no other guy could meet. Kissing Harry could not compare to any other guy.

 

My arms wrapped around his neck, our lips parting just for a quick breath until they met again. The minty taste was more pleasant than old, nasty beer. I was rested onto the sink with my legs lazily hanging off of the marbled object. Harry’s hands were free to move about as they wished, my lips clinging to his for more of his kiss. His head was ducked just to be able to kiss me, which I found attractive because his height was just perfectly comparable to mine.

 

We kissed for so long I became breathless in a matter of another minute along with clueless as to what the time was. I brushed my lips to his jaw, smirking as I felt him shiver a little. That means he likes being kissed on the jaw, which I have no problem with because his is perfect. I kissed gently there, almost light and feathery enough to make him groan in annoyance.

 

“I’ll find yours, don’t you worry about that,” he threatened breathlessly, planting a soft kiss to my shoulder as I quietly smirked to myself. I felt warm this close to him, and being offered his affection and his touch in privacy was so much more endearing and fulfilling. I know the more time I spend with him, even if it’s not kissing or being all cute and cuddly, I just know I am beginning to like him to the point where things start to get personal.