Dancing on Glass | h.s. (ON HOLD)
  • Reads 14,142
  • Votes 446
  • Parts 15
  • Time 2h 57m
  • Reads 14,142
  • Votes 446
  • Parts 15
  • Time 2h 57m
Ongoing, First published Jan 07, 2013
Mature
Harry's voice crippled me.
The sound was deep, husky, and pleading as he begged for forgiveness he knew I wouldnt give. I shook my head once more but refused to give into the tears. Crying was easy. There was no skill to it...nothing to be mastered. It was just some hideous action that proved how pathetic you were. It was for that reason that I hated the futile action and instead sat there cold and emotionless.
I think it was then that Harry realized exactly what I was about to do. He was too accustomed to my antics; he knew me like the back of his hand despite how much I tried to distance myself. The boy had a way of gaining people's trust. He could find the key to any door I hid behind...except for one.
Finally the pleading went away and was replaced by desperation. "Please just talk to me Savannah. Say anything. Scream at me, tell me how much you hate me, just...just say anything!"
I just stared at him with the same dead expression I had been carrying for some time.
He shook his curly-haired head; sad and partly frustrated. "You make things so bloody difficult sometimes. I'm begging you to just open up to me...please baby...otherwise we're lost."
I shook my head and prepared myself to run. "I guess we're lost then. Goodbye Harry."
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For as long as you could remember, you had always been respectful of what your mother warned you about, in the privacy of your own room.“Don’t let a boy take advantage of your love, and don’t let him pressure you to do anything you don’t want to do.”And while you always respected your mom, you didn’t want to let her keep you from doing what you wanted! Of course, this was your body. And so, with your body, you decided, on the night of your sixteenth birthday, you and your childhood friend, would have sex.For the first time for both of you, it was electric, exciting, slightly uncomfortable, but damn near perfect. And the best part about it? You and he were perfectly capable of returning as just what you had started out as: best friends. "You’re perfect." You mumbled, lips pressed to the bare skin of his neck. "S-sure." You stopped kissing him, looking at his wandering eyes. "Baby, what’s wrong?" Your hand caressed his face. Softly rubbing over stubble. "I don’t know," He shrugged. "I feel like your lying to me when you say that." Liam rubbed his arm awkwardly, looking everywhere but you. You moved his head over towards yours. "Liam, your perfect and if you weren’t I wouldn’t say it. I would never lie about something that big." You kissed his cheek. Giving him a reassuring smile. "You’ve always been perfect."