bare [h.s.]

Her

His hands run steadily down my back, fingertips lingering at the hem of my jeans.
I twirl a loose curl around two fingers as his lips move dominantly against my own.
The way he makes me feel,
undeniably remarkable,
is almost enough to stop my hands
from lightly pressing against his chest.

"Harry," I breathe,
his eyes fluttering open
in response.
The corners of his mouth lift delicately, mirroring the
trace of a smile on my face.
He lays his forehead atop mine,
playfully rubbing our
noses together.
I wrinkle my nose, and his lips
print one last kiss against my forehead.

"What are you doing?"
Harry directs his gaze to Lauren,
who stands on quaking legs
at the end of the hallway;
her unbeatable beauty nearly
ruined by streaming tears.
Harry removes his hold on me,
opening his mouth to explain,
but only a helpless croak escapes.

"I can't believe you," She states,
her expression blank and voice almost unnoticed.

"Wait," Harry begins,
looking from her to me.
I pull my bottom lip
between my teeth,
the taste of him still remaining.
Reluctantly nodding him away,
I wrap my arms around my body,
barely holding myself together.

He chases after her,
footsteps noisily echoing
through the halls.
I lean my back against the lockers,
gradually sliding down until
I hit the floor.

The sudden awareness floods
my every thought:
He still wants her.
And I am alone once again.