Rising Stars [H.S]

32.

When my eye lids slowly open, the first thing I notice is the aching pain in my head and jaw.

My mind quickly replays last night, remembering Harry dancing with me in the streets, Dylan hitting me, and then Harry coming over.

Oh God— Harry.

I kissed him— no, he kissed me. Well, I guess we kissed each other. But holy shit we kissed. I never would've expected that night to turn out the way it did, but it did, and I don't regret it.

My mind replays the way Harry lightly kissed me, his lips molding with mine as we held each other close. God— his lips. They were so soft, and he was so gentile with the kiss, like I could break if he made the wrong move.

I then remember that Harry stayed the night, but when I looked to my side, I was all alone.

Did he leave?

I very quietly flip my legs over the side of the bed and stand up, walking over to my dresser. I glance in the mirror for a second to look at myself. My eyes immediately shoot to my lip, a large visible cut on the side if it from Dylan's one ring. My jaw and cheek had a large reddish purple bruise on it, along with some scattered across my neck. I looked like a fucking mess.

I take my hair and brush it to my side with all the bruises to cover them up. I'll have to cake on a lot of makeup to fully cover them though if I go out.

I quietly walk out of my room, and am surprised at the next thing I see.

Harry was standing in my kitchen, fiddling with the stove.

"Harry?" I say, and Harry immediately turns around and shoots his head in my direction, his cheeks going red.

"Oh— you're up." He says, bringing his hand to the back of his neck and rubbing it nervously.

"What were you doing?" I ask, my eyes shooting to the stove. There was no pan or anything on it, he was just pushing buttons.

"I— uhm... how do you turn the stove on?" He asks, taking me by surprise. I widen my eyes and let out a loud laugh, louder than I meant to.

"Do you not know how to use the stove?" I ask, bringing my hand up to my mouth to try and cover the fact that I was laughing at him.

"No." He says quietly, embarrassed "Usually people make me food or I order it." He admits, making me smile and shake my head at him.

I walk over beside him, and he moves out of the way to grant me access to the stove.

"This is a gas stove, so if you turn this knob—" I say, turning the knob to the upper left eye, "it'll catch flame." I say, and then the eye quickly catches flame.

"You can adjust the flame by turning it to the left and right." I show him. I look up at him to see him not looking at the stove but looking at me, a small smile on his face as his eyes watch me intently.

"What?" I ask, looking up at him confused.

"Nothing." He smiles, his eyes dancing between mine and my lips.

I smile up at him, and he slightly leans in closer to me, our faces now being millimeters apart. My heart rate quickens, and I feel myself grow nervous at the closeness between us. He slowly leans in further, now being able to feel his hot breath against me.

He doesn't waste another second before closing the space between us, pressing his lips against mine. My stomach erupts in butterflies as he lightly moves his lips with mine, bringing his hands to my waist. I stand up higher on my tippy toes and wrap my arms around his neck, pushing myself closer to him.