Harry H.S

thirteen

    I woke up to the sun blaring through the white see through curtains. I moved ready to stretch but was restricted as an arm is wrapped around me underneath my shirt. I rubbed the sleepiness of my eyes, looking down at the arm wrapped around me for it to be covered with tattoos, I hummed melting into his arms.
The night before entered my imagination, as my cheeks heat up. It's funny to see how far we have come, we aren't really close that we can consider ourselves as a couple nor a best friend, but I am glad that we have this connection that always bring us to each other no matter what we go through. I learned enough from him to know that he has a pure and full heart.

"Good morning," his rasped morning voice sent shivers down my spine, as he hug me from behind. He gave me squeeze, as I hummed into his arms.

"Morning," I responded, turning to face him to see his eyes closed. The sun illuminated his godly features, from his brows, to his pink lips and to his long lashes. His brows were furrowed because of the sun blaring, I raised my hand blocking his eyes from the sun. His face softened at my actions.

"You're the sweetest," he said giving my nose a little peck, he flutter his eyes open as his green eyes brighter than usual. Jesus, this man will be the death of me. I couldn't help it, smashing my lips against his, just like last night it deepened than expected. His lips move against mine as if it was the perfect match to mine. I pulled back, smiling at him. Showering his face with kisses.

"Am I dreaming right now?" rhetorically asking, he shook his head no pulling me closer if possible. We stayed like that for a couple of minutes before his phone started ringing. He let out a groan letting his phone ringing, two minutes passed and the phone was still ringing.

"Answer it," I muttered, pushing him off turning to one side as he pulled out his phone from the bedside table answering his phone.

"Yes Azoff," his accent deep and rasped, I sat up looking at him his face turned to a pout his brow furrowing yet again. From where I sat, I can hear this Azoff guy yelling from the other side.

"She's just a fucking old friend," he said, I couldn't help but eavesdrop, he noticed me staring. He left the room, whispering lightly. Everything was muted, but I can hear him yelling. Curiosity killed me, as I make my way by the door, putting my ear against the door.

"The fuck do you want me to do then?" I can already see him fuming. "No- fuck no I'm not telling her that," he muttered. "Does it looks like I care what the hell the tabloids write? I know the truth and that's what matters," he continued, his voice very much frustrated.

"You can't possibly expect me to just leave her do you?" his voice has gotten so much softer.

"No Jeff, I can't just do that-"

"Yes I fucking want to be successful you dimwit, but I also want to live," he whispered. "You know what, fuck you too," a killer silence filled the apartment. "What time?-"
"Tonight?" he whined. "Fine, see you later," he muttered, I heard him end the call before marching his way to the door. Quickly I ran to the bed, covering myself with the duvet as I stare at the window.

"Hey," he said, sitting at the edge of the bed. I pretended as if I didn't hear anything. "Who was that?" I asked. "No one important," he muttered, flopping next to me pulling me close to him.

    "What did they want?" I asked,

"Nothing,"

    Liar.