Adore You Too [H.S]

1 // Art

a/n: who's pumped ?!?! I AM !!!

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Jess hops off the last step of the staircase. I didn't see it, but I heard it. She was so excited that Harry and I were home from our trip, she couldn't leave us alone. I found it somewhat sweet, but mostly annoying.

Noah eventually responded to my text. Turns out, his mom is retiring in the spring and after that, his family is actually moving. Noah wouldn't tell me where though, all he said was it was somewhere he's always wanted to go. Not sure what that meant.

After such a casual--and slightly dry, if I'm honest--conversation with Noah, we lost contact after only a few days. I didn't tell Harry that I had been in contact with him, I didn't really think he'd care. He never asked anyway.

Harry and I now sit on the barstools at the island in my kitchen, laughing at Tik Toks. Even with growing up in the twenty-first century, I haven't always been the biggest fan of social media. It paints unrealistic pictures of how people are supposed to look and live their lives. Some aspects are good, but some are also negative. And with this particular thing, I choose to let the negative outweigh the positive, simply because I think it can be very damaging. But Tik Tok...that's something I can get behind. Some of the videos, at least.

"What are we watching?" Jess chimes as she enters the room with us, skipping about.

"Tik Toks," I tell her simply, Harry laughing at one currently playing on my phone. She doesn't find that very amusing, rolling her eyes.

"That's all you guys do anymore," she complains. "And you only watch them. You never even make them."

"We could make one," I challenge, looking over at Harry, who had wide eyes. "I'm practically a renegade god."

"Show me," Jess challenges, eyeing me up and down.

"Okay," I say, standing up.

Not surprisingly whatsoever, the video below the one Harry had just been watching was to the 'renegade' song. The number of videos I've seen with that sound, all doing the exact same dance moves, is probably unhealthy. But in my defense, it was like all that was on my 'For You' page.

Setting up the camera with the sound, along with a self-timer, I stand back, preparing to nail this dance.

"H, come here," I wave Harry over, wanting him to do the dance with me. I knew if we made it together, I couldn't post it. Harry and I would both like to keep our relationship under wraps until it becomes way more serious, if it ever does I mean. And we've done a pretty good job at it I'd say.

"No," Harry denies simply, shaking his head vigorously.

The music starts for the dance and I quickly run up to stop it, glaring at Harry.

"Oh come on," Jess whines, "I wanted to see this! I was about to make popcorn and everything."

"I don't dance," he argues.

"Hey! That's my line," I say, acting offended.

"I don't do choreography," Harry corrects himself firmly, a stern look plastered on his face.

"Please," I beg, pouting out my lip and giving him puppy eyes.

Harry's facial expression softens before he rolls his eyes, letting out a sigh of defeat. "Fine."

I squeal and reach out, grabbing his hand and pulling him off the chair he was sitting on. Neither of us had gotten ready for the day, so he was still wearing black Nike basketball shorts and was shirtless. Not that I'd ever complained to be in the presence of that.