Silk || hs

Avoiding the Problem 'til It Goes Away

As I stare down at my phone, reading and rereading Gabrielle's text message, I wrack my brain for any discussion I have had with Harry during which he may have said anything about his formal event. Sadly though, nothing comes to mind. Harry has never mentioned a dance or even the fact that he would be going out of town next weekend. I don't know much about Greek life at a school like mine, but I do know that fraternity formals are an entire weekend spent out of town, alone in a hotel room with your date. And since Harry is the president of his fraternity, there is no doubt in my mind that Harry is required to go. If that's true, as I suspect it is, then Harry is either deliberately not inviting me and going by himself, or he is taking someone else. I honestly don't know which is worse.

Sighing in frustration, I decide to take a shower. That way, if Harry walks in here, I don't have to talk to him. Obviously, I want to confront him about this, but I really just don't know how to go about doing it. I mean, Harry is having problems with his mom right now, and I'm sitting here worrying about a stupid formal dance that Harry didn't invite me to. What if I make a huge deal of it and he tells me that he just hasn't gotten around to asking me yet? Well, then I'd be an idiot who overreacts to the smallest doubt that comes to my mind. But what if he never asks me and never even tells me about it? Well, then I think I we would have something very serious to discuss.

Leaving my phone on my bed without replying to Gabrielle, I toss my clothes aside and step into the steaming hot shower. As the nearly scalding water cascades over my shoulders, I feel some of the pent-up tension melt away, but despite however relaxed my body might feel, my mind is far from it.

I was literally about to give Harry a blowjob for the first time, and I was kind of excited about it. I wanted to see him above me, completely surrendered to the influence of my touch. I wanted to see him come closer and closer to his point of release as my tongue teased him and pulled him to the edge. I wanted to see his eyes on me as I pleasured him, but now I don't know if I'll get to. Right now, I certainly don't want to anymore; I'm too focused on the fact that Harry has kept this thing from me to even think about doing anything sexual with him.

Fuck you, Harry, for ruining my otherwise delightful mood. And fuck Gabrielle for texting me so late on Thanksgiving. Not really, though. I know it isn't her fault. She was just asking about a dress. Harry and his secrets are the reason for my reestablished paranoia, and there is no one to blame but him.

Probably twenty minutes pass before I realize just how long I have been in the shower. I just can't get those pesky thoughts out of my mind telling me that Harry is hiding this from me intentionally. My irrationality even goes so far as to suggest that this is only the beginning of something bigger.

That's stupid, I tell myself. It's just a dance. I shouldn't make this out to be more than it is.

Sighing to myself, I shut the water off and step out onto the tile. To my annoyance, I seem to have forgotten my towel in my room, so I try to squeeze the water from my hair before opening the bathroom door and stepping out onto the carpet. Spotting my towel on the bed, I walk quickly towards it, trying not to drip too much water on the floor.

However, to my horror, before I can even pick it up, I am stunned to hear Harry's voice from behind me, "Hey Cam, is this picture–"

Harry stops mid-question, I assume as he sees me standing in front of him completely naked and still dripping at from my shower. With my heart pounding, I snatch the towel from the bed and scramble to cover myself before turning around to glare at Harry. I know there's no way he could have known that I forgot my towel, but I'm already so frustrated with him that this only makes things worse.

"Harry, what are you doing in here?" I spit, looking at him harshly as he stares at me in a stunned silence. His green eyes are wide with surprise and he seems to be unable to tear them away from me. If I weren't mad as fuck right now, I'd understand his point of view, but alas, I am angry so his blatant stare is irritating me even more.