Guarded

23

My alarm went off at seven-thirty the next morning and I tossed it on the floor, hoping it would stop buzzing. But it didn’t since I had set a few more to go off every few minutes afterwards. Groaning, I turned off the alarm and sat up in bed, glancing over at the curly-haired snoring boy next to me. He looked so peaceful and harmless. The blanket covered him from the waist down and I found myself entranced by his tattoos. Despite our intimate times lately, I hadn’t really explored the ink he had gotten on himself over the years until this moment.

I didn’t have any tattoos myself but I had always been curious and he was covered in random designs all over his chest and arm. Some were bigger than others and some seemed extremely random. His arm was above his head and I traced my fingers along some of the random shapes on the inside of his arm. My fingers stopped over the heart tattoo that he had.

“Morning,” his sleepy voice murmured.

“Morning,” I said. “I was just admiring your tattoos.”

He opened his eyes and saw me tracing over the designs on his chest. “I have quite a few.”

“I know. I haven’t really had a good chance to examine all of them. I like them.”

“Thanks. They’re quite random,” he said, sitting up in bed. I removed my hand from his chest and gave him a peck on the cheek.

“I want to know the story behind all of them,” I told him.

He murmured a response and I noticed his eyes had shut again and he was drifting back to sleep. I shook him. “We have to get ready to go, we have a long day. Well I do.” I stood up and headed over to my closet. I had showered twice yesterday and actually enjoyed the scent of Harry lingering on me. I didn’t want to lose it yet. I also wasn’t sure if I wanted him to be accompanying me to my ex-boyfriend’s funeral but if Carissa was on the lose still, I didn’t feel completely safe without him by my side.

I walked into the walk-in closet and sorted through my rack of dresses. I pulled out a few different black ones and they all ended up on the floor after I tried them on. One was too short, another was too long, another was too tight, another showed too much cleavage. I sighed, being unable to find something perfect.

I felt someone behind me and Harry reached out and pulled out a black dress with long sleeves. It was plain and simple and hit right by my knee. “Try this one,” he said.

I put the dress he chose on and stood back while he took in the sight of me. “Perfect,” he said.

I checked the mirror and he was right. The dress was respectable and was flattering in all the ways that would be appropriate for a viewing. I slipped on black heels and set to work on my make-up and hair.

“Uh, Annaleise?” He asked once I had finished my make-up. I went with simple eyeliner and mascara and a sheer red lipstick. My hair just needed to be fixed with a flat iron and I was ready.

“Yeah? What’s up?” I called from the bathroom.