Lone [MATURE HS]

Chapter 9.

Guaranteed the look of curiosity and seriousness I get from Harry when he's in thought, I sat with my feet in water, jeans rolled up five inches from my ankles. Harry sits beside me on the small, low dock made of old wood and growing algae at the support beams.

I sigh to myself, staring at the sun that settles at the very middle of my sight. Not exactly the pretty sunset type, and not the blinding type either. I can feel Harry looking at me, which as usual, is not surprising. A faint smile curves into my lips, right before I turn to catch him.

"Judging by the time you spend looking at me, I find it hard to believe it's only because you want to draw me," I whisper, gracefully moving my foot in a upward and downward movement through the water.

Harry doesn't react much, and murmurs back a low, "You caught me."

"I did?" I question with light humor. "One...to zero," I move my mouth slowly as I speak, smug look capturing my features.

He doesn't react much and only leans backwards until his back lies onto the wooden deck. He stares up at the sky, eyes squinted and eyebrows furrowed. One of his hands reaches up into his hair, and he sighs loudly, saying, "I let you have that one."

"And I'd like to remind you, not even an hour ago, I tricked you into thinking you could outrun me," I interject, looking down at him. He turns his head, tilting his chin. Green eyes watch me as his lips curve into a faint grin.

"Which I clearly did. You just found a loophole."

"So then you didn't," I insist, and in turn he scoffs while I laugh.

"Fine. Think what you want," he hums lowly.

I don't respond, smiling to myself, looking at the reflected sunlight that glistens over the warm water. It's warmer than usual out today, which makes the idea of going "swimming" in the beginning of the fall somewhat better. No worries about hypothermia, but maybe the amount of bacteria in the lake water.

"I can tell what you're thinking right now," he says. "And I can't believe you're thinking of it." My eyes glance between him and the water, and I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. He then adds, "There could be like a stomach virus in here. Old pee...who knows what's been in there."

Already grinning, I retort, "I'm not gonna question how you knew that."

"What? You really should," his voice is low, and full of humor. "You're ignoring all the psycho obsessed with you signs."

I turn away from him again and pull my feet away from the water, feeling the wind cool my wet feet. Coming to stand, I hop quickly, wiggling my toes. I look to Harry, longing gaze frozen spot onto his features. There's a moment before I reach to the bottom of my shirt, gripping the seams. My carelessness derives from a drive of ambition, confidence...comfort.

Removing my shirt blinds me for a second, and as it flies into the air and onto the wooden dock. Harry's face is stolid, not shy when he unabashedly gazes downwards. I pretend to ignore the gaze, and ignore the voice in the back of my mind reminding me that I'm not really that sexy.

I wasn't going for sexy, anyway.

"I'm willing to get a stomach flu if you are," I propose with my eyebrows raised. I now stand in a black sports bra and old skinny jeans, still rolled up above my ankles from previous moments.

Inside, I feel a little unsure about myself. I want to do something, feel like I'm approaching some kind of heaven away from the stress of reality, but we all know that's too good to be true. And I strangely, clearly...want Harry there with me...distracted for this moment.