Lone [MATURE HS]

Chapter 19.*

strong sexual content

A couple of single rain drops trail down the windows of his loft. The sound of rain echoes only slightly, drifting around, and while he packs his bags, I find myself watching the rain. The sun was setting, the sky a bold blue with a tinge of orange, and it was cloudy but the sun still peeked through the clouds. I'm lazy as I lie back down, ignoring the sky and the white noise all together.

I stare at the high ceiling above me, hearing the quick sound of the zipper on his luggage. I hear him sigh to himself, lifting the bag to stand up right and while he does that, I aimlessly trace the decrepit lines and patterns on the ceiling.

"You're quieter than usual," I comment softly, feeling the bed dip beside me and he takes the spot there. He lies on his back and joins my aimless guard.

He doesn't respond for a bit, and the noise of the rain pattering across the tall glass windows and a car's wheels whooshing by on the streets raises in volume again. "I wanted you to come with me. I think I'd be excited," he tells me, and I can feel him turn his head and look at me. The watchful look, like he doesn't want to miss a thing.

I don't look back at him. My eyes roll and my lips form into a goofy grin. "More excited than winning the championship game?" I ask him, scoffing, "Please."

"I'm only doing this because...actually, I don't know. I lost the motivation to play for a while now," he mutters, and I turn my head to look at him this time, seeing that his green eyes are already on me like I expected. "I'm more of an art guy, anyways. It's weird trying to be both."

"But you're an amazing athlete. And I'm sure you're an amazing artist, even if you don't want me to see it, yet." My voice teases him only slightly.

Harry shakes his head. "You will, trust me. And you can't tell me I'm a great artist, yet. What if I drew stick figures?"

"The best stick figures I'll ever see," I tease, moving closer to his body where I can drape my leg over his waist and my hand presses against his dark green tee, the denim of his jeans rubbing against my bare thigh. The smell of his cologne evident. His hand falls at the very bottom of my back, fingertips pushing away the soft cotton fabric of my own t-shirt. I sigh softly, resting my arms on either side of his neck, forearms touching his collarbones. "Can't believe you're leaving me," I whisper against his neck, my lips brushing his warm skin.

My eyes flutter shut, but not for long as he rolls me onto my back, a deep groan rumbling in his chest. His face lines with mine just above me, the tip of his nose touching mine. Bright eyes glued to my lips and then flickering to mine. "Only for a bit. I promise you, I won't enjoy any of it," he lowly mutters as my legs wrap around his waist, arms still around his neck from our previous position. He leans on one of his elbows to keep himself up only slightly. His hair falls against his cheeks.

"I guess this is the part I wish you good luck," I smile, and it's then when he leans down and presses a full, deep kiss on my lips. I return the need behind the kiss, my fingers finding their place in his hair, tugging lightly. He doesn't bother pulling away from me when he turns his head, angling to kiss me harder. His free hand dips beneath my t-shirt, gliding up my stomach. His teeth gently bite into my bottom lip, rendering a soft groan to settle in this throat. I feel his hand slip underneath my bra, clasping his hand against my breast. The desperate need is there and it lengthens as my shirt is pulled away from me, separating our reddened lips for a few seconds.

It's tossed onto the floor and every article of clothing follows until I'm breathing a little harder, and so is he. His eyes trail down my body, fingers tugged into the elastic band of my baby pink underwear. He dips down again to trail warm, open-mouthed kisses down my neck as he pushes the thin fabric down my legs. Cheeks pink and mouths red from the harsh kisses.