The Year 3000

Chapter 21: The Rebellion Is Back

Scarlett's POV

Previously:

I jerked myself back with a gasp, frantically rubbing my lips to somehow get the memory to vanish. But it was as if someone had branded it into my head, haunting me every time I closed my eyes. What was wrong with me? How much blood had I lost?

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When I finally gained enough courage to look up at Harry, he was staring at me, a mixture of emotions playing on his face. In his eyes, I could see the hope dancing across his irises. It scared me. I wasn't sure I wanted to give Harry any hope about us. I had a feeling I would only be setting both him and myself up for pain. But what else could I do? Our deal was that I had to pretend to love him and Luke lived. Now more than ever, Luke's safety was on the line. So maybe it was better that I convinced Harry early on of my pretend feelings for him. Harry's eyes darted down to my lips before meeting my eyes once again, his intentions clear. Brutally shoving down any shred of dignity I had left, I didn't pull away when Harry leaned in once more. He was cautious at first, almost hesitant when his lips met mine.

My heart thumped painfully against my ribcage, racing faster and faster with each passing second. I was filled with a mix of terror and weightlessness, like I had just thrown myself off the edge of a cliff, as Harry became more and more eager, tangling his fingers in my hair and pulling me closer. Much, much, more slowly and reluctantly, I became responsive to him. I was furiously trying to shut out any and all of my thoughts, to just forget who and where I was and all that Harry had done. As much as it killed me to admit it, from a completely physical standpoint, kissing Harry felt good. His lips were as soft as silk, and he applied just the right amount of pressure. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I had been holding in as the kiss continued, the tightness in my chest lessening slightly.

Panic had already heated my body before, and now it felt like I was on fire, not unpleasantly. My body was still a messy tangle of fear and nerves, but a blissful fog was slowly taking over in my mind. From an objective standpoint, I knew that what I was doing was wrong, which was why I was desperately trying to shut down the logical part of my brain. Because I also knew that, from a survival standpoint, if I didn't respond, Harry would get angry, and with Luke here, I couldn't risk it. No, it was far better to get on Harry's good side with this one kiss. This first, truly willing kiss.

After who knows how long, Harry pulled away, panting slightly with his hand still gripping the hair at the base of my neck. My chest rose and fell at an alarming rate. I felt as if my body had turned into a battle ground for morals and survival. Clearly, this time, survival had won out. And at what cost? A kiss. I could stand to lose a kiss. My eyes slowly fluttered open to meet Harry's half-hooded lids. The intensity in his eyes was jarring, and I found it hard to keep his gaze. Yet, I was also fascinated at the depth of emotion held in those two little emeralds flecked with gold and light brown. I blinked, subconsciously leaning closer to somehow look deeper.

"Scarlett," he breathed, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead against mine, "You have no idea what that meant to me. I-I needed that, after seeing you . . . thinking that you were dead. My God, I needed that."

I swallowed, closing my eyes as the unsettling thought of my near-death truly started to sink in. I almost died. Luke almost killed me. My chest constricted painfully, and I suppressed a shudder. I didn't blame Luke, but the thought was still jarring.

Without warning, the door to the infirmary burst open with a loud bang, making me fall back with a gasp.

"Your Majesty! Your Majesty!" A small boy with curly, blonde hair came rushing in. Harry emitted a low, annoyed growl as stood and faced the boy, towering over him.