Fingerprints

Four- POV Johanna

Harry almost never upsets me. It's very rare. The only other time we fought was a misunderstanding. He wasn't clear about who he was with one day, and then he said he was with Jordan. Of course I freaked on both of them, but in the end I felt like an asshole because Harry was actually planning on surprising me, and since it was the first year of dating, he didn't know too much about me; not as much as Jordan, anyway. He ended up at my house a week before Valentine's Day with a rose and two tickets to a play. It was the sweetest gift I've ever gotten. That made me learn that sometimes things aren't as they seem- for the better.

-

        "Are you mad at Harry?" Jaycee asked as we sat on her bed. I smiled, and skimmed the nail polish bristles against her big toe nail, leaving a bright streak of purple.

        "Why would you think that?"

        "A'cause he's not here. Harry is always here." She pursed her lips and batted her eyelashes, showing off her dark blue eyes. She had a point. He never left my side.

        "Harry's probably just with his band."

        "Can he come over now?" She barely let me finish my sentence. I think she likes Harry more than I do. She always loved playing with him; especially dress up. Harry has the perfect hair for dress up. I think she was able to fit 34 of her bows in his hair. Don't ask me why she has 34 plus bows.

        "I don't think so, Jay," I finished her second foot with the purple polish.

        "Well if you weren't mad at him, you'd let him come over."

        "It's almost your bedtime," I said.

        "Well don't you want to be with him too?" I forced a frown, and pulled out my iPhone. 

        "Yay! Harry!" She went to get off the bed.

        "Hey!" I yelled, "Your nails are wet." She shuffled back on the bed, waiting for the polish to dry, and I pulled up Harry and I's message thread on my phone. 

        "would you like to come over?"  I texted him. I put my phone down and waited for his response.

        "Wait, is Harry mad at you?" She looked up at me, wiggling her wet toes.

        "I don't know, Jaycee." I was honest. I shouldn't have made him choose me or his music. It was unfair. I rested my chin on my hand as my phone went off, a long dinging sound. I looked over to see his screen name light up on my lock screen; H ♡

        "Sure, my Love. I'll be there in 5. xx" I always get the sweetest responses from him. My cheeks flushed at the nickname. I glanced over at Jaycee, who was yawning.

        "Why don't you go to sleep?" I asked her.

        "I just want to say hi to Harry. And he can see my nail polish." She put her right foot in my face and spread her toes out as far as they could go. 

        "Ew," I said laughing at her. I threw down her foot, and started tickling her, as she let out bursts of uncontrollable giggling and laughing. She picked out another color- white- for me to paint a small flower on the big toe. It turned out better than I expected, and she loved it. She's definitely a girly girl; dresses flowers and bows. 

        "Knock knock," we heard a voice from the bedroom door as I finished the last flower. It was Harry, wearing a Kiss tee shirt, black pants, his golden boots, and one of the bandanas I picked out for him a while ago.

        "Harry! Look at my toes!" He leaned over and looked over the dry, shiny dark purple color.

        "I love that color on you, Jay!" Harry said. Jaycee tossed one of her light brown braids over her shoulder and thanked him. 

        "Is your band playing good?" She asked him.

        "Yeah, kiddo, we just finished recording for our debut album." I smiled, remembering he told me about it. Eighth and L's first album name was Reggie, the drummer's idea; Living in Color. I'm not sure what it meant, but it sounded pretty cool.

        After we said goodnight, Harry went to the bathroom, as I lied on my teal comforter and turned on a movie to fall asleep to. 

        "Tired, are we?" He said, his accent was heavy with each word. I could hear in his voice just how much he practiced that night. He closed the door and kicked off his boots.

        "Not as tired as you sound," I laughed. He got under the blankets, and wrapped his arm around me, his strong hand on the right side of my ribcage, following the rising and falling of my chest as I breathed. I closed my eyes and felt his warmth, his presence for the first time in a while. He let out a warm breath that made its way to my neck through my messy brown hair, making my heart speed up, and sending chills down my spine. His breath smelled of sweet cherry and peppermint. I turned my body around, facing him now, his hand on my waist. His bright green eyes were shining in the dim light of the TV, and his lips were shiny. He gave a smirk, and let out a soft breath, pressing his lips to mine. My heart felt like it leaped out of my chest; I couldn't remember the last time we were alone like that. I took the moment in, knowing he left in a few days for his tour. I wouldn't see him for a month. He's never gone that long without seeing me, and he was making the most of the moment as well. The kiss became deeper, and deeper. He lifted his left leg up over to the other side of me, so he was straddling me. His hand holds my head, with his thumb on my cheekbone. Our lips opened and closed rhythmically on one another's time after time, giving me quick tastes of the mint on his lips. The room was filled with love, lust, and desire for one another. I entangled my fingers in his curly hair, and clenched my fist, pulling slightly. My hand on his back pulled him closer to me. The subtle movement of his hips on mine, and his ragged breaths hinted he wanted to go further. He gave me one last kiss before he pulled away, looking at me with his glossy green eyes.

        "Not yet?" He breathed. I felt so bad doing this to him. I felt like such a tease. He took his hands off me to use them as support to hold himself up. I bit my lip, looking all around the room, and then back into his eyes.

        "I'm scared," I said. And, I was. He brushed a piece of hair out of my face, and stroked his thumb over my cheekbone.

        "You know I'd never hurt you," He prompted me, "I've got you." I didn't tell Harry, but I felt pressured by him. Not that it was his fault, not by what he had said. We were dating for almost two years and I haven't given him anything; except, well, touching. He was experienced, and I was a virgin. He stayed in his position, towering over me, and on top of me still. His stare was intimidating, but not threatening. He still had his same sweet tone, and playful touch. I didn't have sex with him- not because I didn't know if I loved him, because I knew that for a fact- but just because I wasn't ready for that part of my life yet. He lowered his head, and let out a laugh.

        "It's okay, Johanna. I'll wait-," he cut himself off by giving me a kiss on the forehead. His leg went back over to his side of the bed, and he laid his head on the pillow, wrapping me in his arms once more.

        "You're worth it," he finished.