how you get the boy

twenty three

I had never pegged myself as someone who's good with words, but I did peg myself as someone who's good with numbers. Anyone could come up to me and hand me an equation and I wouldn't have trouble figuring it out. Answers would come to me instantaneously, though sometimes I had to rack my brain for them. Alas, that's not the point because the point was that I could still do it.

Words, on the other hand, I was never good at it, which was why I had always had difficulty expressing my emotions. Nick had always told me that one day it would come and bite me in the arse, but I refused to believe him.

If even the littlest things such as saying 'take care' or 'I like you' was hard enough for me, having to come up with a reply when the person you thought you had no chance with suddenly came back for you made me want to pull at my hair. I thought I might go mental.

"Harry?" I croaked, my voice echoing in the silence. My eyes chose to scan his face and when they land on his green, green eyes, I felt like I was back in the longing pit. The emotions he could convey with those eyes always confounded me and given that the last time I looked into his eyes I saw the pain I'd inflicted in them, I was pleased to see that there's no trace of it anymore. "What-Why're you here?"

"It's you, it's always been you," was the last thing I heard before he leaned forward and captured my lips, catching me off guard with his unexpected move.

Every worrying thought that had flooded my mind earlier disappeared, replaced by nothing but the thoughts of Harry, Harry and Harry. And his soft lips.

I kissed him like I'd never kissed him before and his lips moved against mine like they were trying to consume me as much as mine were his. We were kissing like we were making up for what felt like eternity's worth of missed moments and like we were done fighting what we knew was a useless fight. Instead of going against the current, we decided to – finally – go along with it.

Kicking the door to my room close, Harry's hands grabbed my face and I felt as though my heart was going to jump out of my chest when I heard a whispered 'bunny' slipping past his lips; it's been a while since he last called me that and I didn't realise up until now how much I'd missed it.

It wasn't my consciousness that reacted next; it was my heart. The same heart I'd been depriving for so long and had just busted free.

Leaning back, I pulled the shirt over my head and it was off, flying to the floor in a matter of seconds. Harry licked his lips and I watched as his Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed the lump in his throat before he pulled his jumper over his head and threw it to the floor the same way I did.

Then, in one seamless movement, he pulled me back to him. One hand crawled down my back, sparing no time freeing my bra from my back. His breathing for the first time was almost as ragged as mine and that was when realisation hit the two of us: this was it.

Even though I saw nothing but green light as his hands slid up my body, skimming up my breasts and moulding beneath my jaw, I foresaw a red light was on the horizon. I foresaw the scenario that'd come the morning after, but none of that mattered; I was so ready for this moment that I could feel it throbbing my every nerve to life.

"Harry," I whispered as I placed a hand on his cheek and brushed my thumb across it. He looked at me, his green eyes so bright that I wondered for a moment if he was the sun. Perhaps he was. "I-I meant every word I said to you that night."

As soon as those words left my lips, he looked relieved. Like he could finally breathe again. And apparently, those were the only words he needed to hear before he hooked his hands under my legs, a silent plea for me to wrap them around his waist. And that, I did.