Unforgettable

10.

"Embrace me, my sweet embraceable you
Embrace me, you irreplaceable you"

Song: Ella Fitzgerald - Embraceable you.

**

"I was just taking the rubbish out" I reply caught off guard, darting my eyes around anxiously.

I thought he'd still be in bed, Christ how much did he hear?

I didn't want him to hear what Emma had said, he's torn up enough without knowing she not only cheated on him, but flat out used him since they'd met.

He raises his brows, not buying it one bit more "Taking out the rubbish?"

"Yep" I shoot back, looking sideways.

He unfolds his arms, the taught muscles in his chest and biceps flexing, standing and taking a few steps to stand in front of me "Can you make sure to remind me of something?"

I stare at his bare torso, wandering my eyes over the details of his chest and firm stomach. Momentarily captivated watching the slow rise and fall of his chest as he breathes, his abdomen muscles flexing along with it.

I trace my eyes around the tattoos littered across his shoulders, sternum and hips, almost like a game of connect the dots.

I never really paid much attention to Harry's tattoos, I knew he had some on his arms but I barely noticed them when we met or any time after that, they aren't something that I really pay attention to with people.

My father has tattoos covering most of his body, he has my entire life, so I just grew up seeing them as a natural part of someone's body, almost like a second skin, not something all that noticeable.

But I'm noticing his now.

Is that a butterfly?

I lift my head up, immediately seeing the pleased dimpled smirk he has on his face, I shake off the momentary fog that seemed to overtake my thoughts, blinking towards him "What would that be?"

A small smile pulls further on his lips as he stares down at me "To never piss you off, you're bloody terrifying"

Oh for fuck sake.

I groan, throwing my head back "How much of that did you hear?"

I don't like anyone seeing that side of me, like I said, I'm not proud of it and it's not something I enjoy.

I have a trip switch in my head, that triggers something so dark and angry inside of me, something vengeful and spiteful and I absolutely hate it.

It's been there ever since that one night all those years ago, and I can't stand the thought of it.

I didn't want Harry to see that side of me, I don't want anyone to see it, and the part that I hate the most, is that the way I was with Emma was like a harmless puppy compared to how bad it can really get.

He lifts and drops his shoulders, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans hung low on his hips "Oh you know, only from the part where you called her a deceitful little rat"

I huff, resting my hand on my hip "You could have just said you heard all of it Harry"

"Yeah but where's the fun in that?" he quips back, his eyes squinting in amusement.

I shake my head, stepping around him and walking past to the couch, flopping myself down on it and resting my head against the back of the arm, shutting my eyes completely exhausted. "I didn't want you to hear any of that"