less than lovers (h.s.)

fourteen

When I woke up the next morning, I didn't realize right away that I wasn't alone. In fact, it wasn't until I rolled out of bed when Harry's arms tightened around my waist that the memories of last night washed over me.

"You're not allowed to leave," he groaned sleepily, squeezing my hips. "Stay in bed."

My pulse rioted in my throat as I slowly turned around to face him. He was looking at me with a gentle expression on his face—almost nervous, like he was afraid I might fade away at any second. I gave him a small smile, and he immediately reciprocated it.

"I wasn't leaving," I said slowly. "I was just getting my phone."

"Oh." Harry was quiet for a second. His hands were still wrapped around my waist, but he lifted one of them up to tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. "Listen, about last night..."

My heart sped up. I braced myself for the words that were sure to follow—we should forget about it. Of course he would say that. He was with Hannah—I mean, he wasn't technically with her, but he liked her. The events of last night weren't going to change that, no matter how much I might have wanted them to.

"Don't worry, I completely understand," I said quickly before he could continue. I didn't need to hear him say it; the implication was bruising enough. "I promise to forget it ever happened. Just like last time." Except we hadn't actually had sex last night—although we'd certainly come close to it.

Harry's mouth twisted into a frown, lines of confusion etched on his forehead. "What? Jonesy, what are you talking about? That's not what I was going to say. Is that what you think?"

"I—"

"Actually, no. Don't answer that, because I know what you're going to say," he said. "You're going to give me some bullshit excuse about why it shouldn't happen again. But this time I'm not going to listen to you. This time we're going to talk about it."

My stomach flipped, and I couldn't meet his eyes. There was no reason for me to be nervous, after everything we'd done last night, but all of a sudden, it all felt a little too real. We were lying in his bed, bodies tucked into one another, and the possibility of him was closer than ever. And yet I had never been more terrified.

"Jonesy," Harry said gently, his eyes soft as they lingered on me. "I'm not letting you get out of this. Not again."

I swallowed, my throat dry, and all I could say was, "You first."

He paused for a minute before nodding. "Okay. I don't want to forget about what happened last night, and I didn't want to forget about it last time either. I thought that was what you wanted, because you were so adamant that it was a mistake."

"You said it was a mistake, too!" I pointed out.

"Yeah, but you said it first." Harry looked at me. "Why would I want to forget something I've been thinking about for so long?"

Heat crept up my neck, and I could feel my heart racing in my chest. "How long?" I whispered. "Be specific. I need to know."

Harry considered me for a long moment. His brow was furrowed, but there was a small smile curving up the corners of his lips. Finally, he said, "I liked you in first year. You must have known that."

"I swear to God, I never knew!" I insisted, but I was blushing. Niall had been telling the truth—Harry had liked me. And I was pretty sure he liked me now too.

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say. But eventually I gave up because...well, what was I supposed to do? You were with Adam."

"Until I wasn't," I said slowly.