Buses & Bunk Beds (Zarry)

Chapter 59

Summer was upon us, and I hated it, already missing the cold weather. Whenever I thought of the winter holidays I was reminded of Harry - I hoped that they'd always remind me of him - since so much had happened for us during that time of year. Hopefully Christmas carols would always make me think of watching Love Actually with him; hopefully wrapping paper would always make me remember the gift he'd given me, the gift that had shown me that he no longer thought of me as just a friend; and hopefully Christmas lights would always remind me of how bright Harry's eyes had been the first time we'd kissed.

I missed the clothes that he wore in winter too, how bundled up he always was. He looked fantastic in his shorts and tanks, his skin tan and perfect, and I swear he looked better all hot and sweaty than anyone else ever could, but I still preferred it when I was the only one who got to see his bare skin and tattoos. I liked it when I could peel layer after layer of clothing off of him, scarf and coat and jumper and t-shirt, one after another, like I was unwrapping a present. And when it was all off I'd be rewarded with the sight of his pale winter skin; the skin no one got to see but me.

Summer also meant hot weather, which I loathed, especially now that my hair was longer. Everyone was surprised that I was growing it out, but I suspected that Harry liked it this way, even though he'd never said so outright. But I noticed how often he ran his fingers through it, and how tightly he gripped it whenever my lips and hands were on him, like it was the only thing anchoring him to reality. So I'd refused every time Lou had asked me if I wanted her to cut it, willing to look a little messier than I preferred if it made Harry happy. I'd do anything to make him happy.

I'd also been shaving less often, because he'd never been shy about telling me how much he loved my scruff; how manly and sexy he thought it made me look. I personally loved the way my beard made his skin so red wherever it rubbed against him. I'd tease him with it whenever I could, sliding my chin along his thighs again and again, under the pretense that I was kissing him, until the proof that I'd been there was visible. Lou complained on the daily about the state of the skin around his mouth, but it just made me want to kiss him even more, even more roughly, so that everyone would be able to take one look at him in the morning and guess what we'd been up to all night.

Summer had brought Ramadan with it as well. It was almost over, and Harry had been very supportive, never eating in front of me while I was fasting even though I told him repeatedly that I didn't mind. He'd even wake me up early each morning so that I could eat something before sunrise, and he never complained even though I cussed him out each and every time, in the groggy moments before I was fully roused and realized that he was just taking care of me in the only way he knew how.

We'd made a habit of staying up to watch the sunrise together, and he'd cuddle me and tell me how proud he was of me as we watched the sky turn from black to gray to purple to pink as the sun made its appearance. It was a wonderful way to welcome the day, safe in Harry's arms and feeling all loved up, and I hoped that we'd continue the tradition, as long as Harry didn't mind. I suspected that he wouldn't mind at all, and I wasn't surprised with how wonderful he was being. He'd always been supportive of my beliefs, even before we'd started dating.

Dating. It seemed like too insignificant a word for what we were doing, not big enough to encompass what we meant to each other. The term boyfriend felt inadequate to me as well, though it did still send a thrill through me every time he used it to refer to me. I couldn't wait until I could introduce him to the world as my boyfriend, but I truly longed for the day that I might be able to call him even more.

I thought about it all the time, making Harry mine, permanently; probably far more than someone my age ever should. But I knew what I wanted, and I knew what it was like to live without him, so I had no doubt that I would do whatever it took to make us work, even though I sometimes still feared that he was too good for me.