Distraction

Sweatpants & Nothing Else

Sweatpants and nothing else.

Nothing else.

This is why you don't climb in through peoples windows at night without knocking.

Even if the window is open, knock.

That piece of information might have come in handy before tonight. Because when she had climbed up the tree and through Henry's window, she hadn't been expecting this.

He obviously hadn't been expecting her either (she didn't feel like she needed to tell him that she's coming over), because otherwise he wouldn't be walking around in only sweatpants and no shirt.

No shirt!

There's a glorious expanse of golden skin on display and wow.

Wow.

Since when does he look like that?

It's mind boggling.

It might be because of the lighting in his room (although, she's not really paying attention to that or anything else at the moment), but everything looks so

Defined.

He's always been good looking (a fact that she's only recently started to let herself accept) but this is-

Wow.

She can't help but let her eyes roam over him, even when she's telling herself not to (he deserves some privacy and he's not some piece of meat).

Her eyes move from his neck, to his shoulders and his arms -that have become very defined-, before moving down to his pecks (ditto) and then down to his stomach.

Her pulse quickens.

Is it getting hot in here, or is it just me?

Charlotte's eyes are glued to his abdominals.

They are overwhelmingly perfect.

Okay, she is burning up.

She suddenly understands what people mean when they say 'thirsting for something or someone'.

Because her mouth is as dry as the Sahara probably is. She really needs a glass of water.

And Henry is one tall glass of water.

Her eyes keep moving down. His pants are hanging low on his hips and his hip bones are jutting out beautifully, pointing down towards-

She hurriedly looks back up, refusing to let her gaze move any lower.

The ogling had probably only taken a few seconds, but she feels flustered for even indulging herself for those few seconds.

"I'm sorry!" she blurts out when she looks into his eyes. He's looking at her with some type of emotion that she can't pinpoint, "I didn't- I just- uh...The window was, uh, open and I though.. I brought you some fudge blast from Yotally Toghurt!" she finally says, raising the plastic bag with the shop's logo on it for him to see.

Henry keeps staring at her, eyes dark. Then he looks down momentarily. She sees him close his eyes for a second, before he opens them again, looking back at her from under lowered lashes. When he speaks, his voice sounds raspy.

"Thanks. I'll just put on a shirt first," he smirks, "If that's okay with you, of course?"

Is he making fun of me?

She almost tells him not to bother with the shirt, but chooses to give him a nod instead.

She doesn't trust her voice at the moment.

When he turns around, she really wishes that she had looked away.

His butt looks perfect in those pants.

She's going to be (day-) dreaming about this for weeks, she just knows it.

-------------------

Tbc.