labyrinth Δ harry styles

Door Thirty-Nine: Thin Ice

AFTER HARRY FORCED himself to pull away from the kiss, Indira was left dizzy with emotions. Compared to the other times, her newfound emotions with him were concrete and solid, confident in how she felt about him. His grip around her waist was constricting, and she thanked God above because, if he had let her go, she would have most certainly collapsed. Something about this kiss was different, that much she knew, even to the point of convincing herself that she had felt the same sort of passion from him before. But after further contemplation, she figured it was just her and her fired up hormones.

Harry was still looking down at her with an intense gaze, one that Indira couldn't put her finger on. It reminded her of her first few encounters with him, where he would have this look of emptiness, as if the car was running but no one was behind the wheel. He seemed distant tonight, and through the kiss and a few gentle words, she knew there was something hiding behind his actions. Indira was smart, and she knew that whatever sparked this behavior had come from that phone call from that mysterious person. Deep down, however, she was too afraid to ask him, worried he'd be upset about her eavesdropping.

"You alright, darling?" He asked, interrupting her thoughts. Ironic of him to even ask that, considering what the last ten minutes have been like since she's arrived.

"Are you?" She retorted, not caring that they still remained in the same standing position.

He didn't answer her, only smiling and rubbing his thumb across her cheek muttering, "My sweet girl." His eyes darted over her eyes, distracting her from what she was even going on about, getting herself ready to accept another toe curling, body melting kiss. And so he kissed her again, this time moving his feet backwards until his knees buckled against the edge of he bed, where she followed suit.

She didn't let it get far, and Harry didn't push her.

"You're quiet today."

"I'm always quiet," he replied instantly.

Again, Indira was afraid to ask what was wrong, in fear of him shutting down complete, much worse than what he appeared to be exhibiting just then. So she nodded, tongue in cheek. She pressed a kiss to his cheek, then stood out of his embrace to walk towards the door.

His hand was much quicker though, catching her forearm before she could even make a step further.

"You said you were going to stay?" His emerald green eyes were wide like a begging puppy, a small lump forming in his throat.

"And I am. I just have to go home and grab some clothes. I'll be back in less than half—"

"Nonsense," he interjected, "I know January's left some clothes here somewhere." Without even letting her sit on the thought, Harry was up on his own feet, bolting out of the door to find some spare clothes. Indira knew January still had some clothes left over from her last unforeseeable sleepover, but she thought maybe her leaving would give him some space to...well, give him space period.

Before she knew it, he was back with a spare set of non-provocative, comfortable pajamas and placed them in the bathroom built inside him room. He didn't ask what her plans were going to be now that she had agreed to stay the night, but seeing that he clearly wasn't in the right headspace, Indira followed along.

"Shower's there if you need it," he said walking towards the bed, opposite of where she was standing.

The tension in the air was awkward, and once again she felt that same distant notion from him almost as if he was oozing with it. Despite the kiss and the plead to stay with him, she would think he was acting like a complete stranger. It was starting to bug her that he was acting so indifferent, but if she was going to delve into that thickly guarded mind of his, she needed to tread lightly on thin ice.