You’re on your way to the DVD Store with your boyfriend, Harry. You wanted to rent ‘The Lucky One,’ but Harry wasn’t so sure about spending seven bucks on a movie he knew wouldn’t be very interesting.
He held your hand firmly as you two examined the isles, but you had your other arm wrapped around your winter parka because it was in the middle of winter, and you were freezing. You shivered, and Harry looked down at you nervously with his green eyes. “(Y/N),” he said quietly as he leaned down to kiss the side of your head before continuing, “Are you getting sick?” He let his lips linger next to your cheek, and you could feel his sweet, warm breath brushing against your skin.
Immediately, you were warm… and perhaps a bit turned on, to be honest. You bit your lip, and glanced up at him. “I’m fine,” you whispered, but the forced smile on your face was enough to show him that you were lying.
He shook his head, and frowned as he pressed his warm palm against your forehead. He hissed, and decided to move his hand-holding hand around your waist to pull you in tighter. “You’re getting sick. Come on, we need to go home.”
You weren’t going to argue with him as you snuggled into his side, and wrapped your arms around his waist. The two of you walked for the exit, only until you were stopped by the cute, male clerk by the front doors. He smiled at Harry, then looked at you. His brown eyes examined your body before he chuckled, “The lovely lady isn’t buying anything?” He leaned against the door frame, and bit his lip as he took in your beautiful appearance.
Harry was already fuming, you could tell. You weren’t even going to look up at him as you nervously started to push your boyfriend toward the doors with you. You smiled politely at the male clerk, and said through gritted teeth, “The lovely clerk isn’t going to let me leave if I don’t?” This was a sarcastic question, but still Harry was growing more angry. You looked up at him, but his glare down at you was frightening. Perhaps you had pushed your luck with the words, ‘lovely clerk.’
The clerk hummed, “Maybe we can hang out sometime?”
But Harry already forced you out the front doors, slamming it behind you as he stayed inside. You swung around, and watched through the night’s darkness to peek inside the window. Harry took a swing at the clerk, and even though the male was on the ground within minutes, and your boyfriend had basically won, that angry expression was still plastered on Harry’s face. This lasted the whole car ride home, which was silent. And even when you got to the living room of his house, he was STILL angry.
You looked down at Harry, who was flicking mindlessly through the television channels in the darkness. The only light was the screen, but it was enough to see that Harry’s face was red from possible crying.
You were dressed in your pajamas, which was basically a pair of sweats and a blue tank top. “Harry,” you whispered, leaning in to kiss his forehead. But Harry held his hand up to block you out, and he kept that same, angry look on his face as he let the remote drop to the carpeted floor. “Harry Edward,” you say sternly as you slipped onto the couch next to him, wrapping your arms around his neck to nudge the side of his face with your nose. “Come on, it’s not that bad.”
Harry threw his arms up, suddenly bursting into a fit of laughter. “Not that bad?!” he demanded, grabbing your arms and forcing them to your sides. His green eyes shot right into yours. “That guy was hitting on you, and you just flirted right back.” He pushed you back so you were laying on the couch, straddled by him. This turned you on, strangely. You bit your lip as you saw the anger fill his eyes, mixed with what seemed to be true lust.
You decided to mess with him a little, knowing that he was probably turned on as well. “What are you going to do about it, curly?” you asked, freeing an arm from his grip to tangle your fingers in his curly locks.
