Play Date // h.s. (REVISING)

12.

Kisses were officially my new favorite activity. Never would anyone have ever expected such an innocent girl like me to be so in love with the way it felt to lock lips with someone other than family, and an older man for that matter. Never would anyone have ever expected someone like me to be so in love with kissing intimately rather than in an act of respect for family.

I fell in love more and more each time I had the privilege to feel the amount of experience Harry had accumulated throughout the duration of his teenage years, and up until, and past, his years of becoming an official adult. I, myself, didn't know much about kissing, but I could say I was glad to learn from an experienced adult rather than from an inexperienced teenage f.uckboy.

Harry helped me to fix my wrongs, and to enhance everything I did right, better than any popular girl in my school ever could. F.uckboys were surely missing out, and the popular girls were missing out as well, but I guess both parties were on each others' level, so it was quite fair to them. Little did they know that they could find so much better if they just extended their boundaries.

They are all so judgemental once they find out a girl is having hook-ups with some older man, but can't even begin to think about how older men can do things so much better. They think that the constant s.ex that they have with multiple guys is great, but are quick to judge other girls when they have even better s.ex with a man in his twenties. And what's the difference? The older man does it better.

I was glad to be in love with the way an older man could take care of me and love me without having relation to me. I was happy to be accepted and loved for once by someone who I could nearly consider a stranger. Just Harry himself could make my day ten times better from the start, regardless of whatever mood he is in. His whole existence lit up my entire world from the moment he stepped foot through my front door.

-

Harry had cooked another delicious breakfast that morning, and we had sat, yet again, silently at the kitchen table, enjoying a small meal of pancakes and bacon. The food was so very well made that I would have probably had fourths, if I hadn't been so full.

I felt as though I would soon throw up the contents of my stomach, as my abdomen had tightened in pain. All I could get myself to eat was a half of a pancake. I couldn't even manage any bacon, and bacon was my absolute favorite food.

Harry furrowed his eyebrows at me as I used my fork to poke at the remains of the cut up pancake on my plate. My head was rested on my hand, a frown found it's way upon my lips. I glared at Harry as if begging to be excused from the table, but he didn't plan on letting me get away from breakfast with a nearly empty stomach.

"Why aren't you eating, princess?" He asked me, seemingly utterly confused since I so desperately wanted food that morning. "You begged me for food and now you've barely touched anything."

"I'm just not hungry anymore." I shrugged, dropping my fork onto my plate. I had no explanation or reasoning, really. I just suddenly felt full. I didn't even know why.

"What do you mean you aren't hungry anymore? You were starving just minutes ago and now you can't even finish just one small pancake?"

"My tummy hurts." I whined, a pout forming on my lips. I propped my head in my hands, my elbows rested on the table. Harry glared at me for a short moment.

"Just finish the other half of your pancake." He demanded, ignoring my pouting, then returned to eating his food.

"I can't." I groaned.

"Yes you can."

"No I can't."

"Yes. Don't argue with me." Harry raised his eyebrows at me, testing whether I would continue arguing or just suck it up.