Lone [MATURE HS]

Chapter 17.*

n. i have not seen day light for a while. but i love ya'll! mature content.

I effortlessly poke around into my noodles with the chapsticks while Harry does the same with his. We're glued to his bed, soft noise from the small television animating the quiet loft. I sit between his extended legs, him sitting up behind me, leaning against the back of the bed while I'm leant onto his bare, muscled chest. My phone vibrates on the sheets next to us and I see it's an incoming call from my mother. I almost forgot.

Grabbing the device with my free hand, I hold it up to my ear. "Hi, ma. How're you feeling?" I hope she saw the note I left her beside the dark blue orchids Harry brought her. Speaking of him, he quietly eats and chuckles to himself from the show on his "beat up telly" as he calls it.

"Awful. Just awful. I saw your note. They are beautiful. Tell him I said muchas gracias," she tells me, shuffling heard on the other end. She then yawns and adds, "Are you with him right now?"

"Yes," I answer, and I pull the phone back from my ear to speak to Harry hastily. "My mom said the flowers are beautiful and thank you." He glances down at me and nods with a slight smile before going back to the show. I don't expect him to talk a lot, anyway. Knowing what he would've said, I put the phone back to my ear and tell my mom, "He said he's happy you like them."

"Okay, well I better do something with myself. It's noon already," she huffs. "I will call you later, mija. Be safe."

When she hangs up, I lazily toss the phone back onto the bed and naturally, I feel myself cuddle closer to Harry, who doesn't mind at all as he quietly eats. South Park plays on the television, and it amuses Harry more than it amuses me, but I watch it with him anyway. Shifting a little, my leg rubs against his and I messily shove a bunch of noodles into my mouth. I get cold eventually and hop off the bed, looking for my socks with my noodles still in my free hand. When I find them, I slide them on and like a child, hurriedly rush back underneath the sheets with Harry.

My back rests against his chest again, my tied up hair curling against the back of my neck and around my ears, sometimes getting in his way hut he doesn't complain. He chuckles softly and I think it's because of the show, but he leans forward far enough to press his lips to mine and give me a soft kiss. I look up at him, our eyes locking, my own dark ones with his green ones. I furrow my eyebrows, murmuring, "What?"

"You're so endearing to watch sometimes," he whispers, kissing along my neck and shoulder before his attention redirects to his noodles. I only peck his jaw lightly in response before we're consumed by our comfortable silence and the obnoxious voices from the characters in South Park. There's a soft hum from the television. When we finish our food, Harry gets up and tosses everything out.

I scratch my arm, yawning lightly from the bed. Laying on my back, I stare up at the ceiling until I feel the mattress dip next to me. I see Harry kneeling, bending forward and climbing over my body like he did last night. My smile is automatic, in turn he sends me one back. He dips down and presses our foreheads together, hair falling to his cheeks.

A wondrous hand of mine slides up his bare back, nails lightly scratching against his skin. "You know...we never officially agreed on being together...I kind of just introduced you to my family as my boyfriend," I realize suddenly, breath fanning against his expectant lips. I pull mine down into a goofy grimace, widening my eyes. "Woops."

His lips curve up into a slight smile. "I wasn't complaining," he whispers, giving me a dopey, lingering kiss as his free hand -- the one not keeping his body above mine -- trails down my waist and grips me there. I bite gently into his bottom lip, a thing we've come to like to do. He groans softly, deepening an innocent little kiss. An arm of his slides up beneath me, gripping me tight and pressing me to him as he turns on his back, pulling me above him. I straddle his waist comfortably, tired smile forcing my lips to curve. He lies there, messy hair fanned onto the pillow, bare chest aching to have my hands run across it, the golden cross necklace falling slightly to the right from his position. Pink lips closed and his steady green eyes watching me silently.