Lights (2019)

Koalas and Chlamydia

A soft smile plays on his lips the whole drive home. In hindsight; I really should bring some over-night items to keep at Harry's since I apparently spend the night so often. Items like; some pajamas, a hairbrush, make-up remover, tooth paste, a toothbrush. His bedroom is just like I left it last; the bed unmade, some dirty shirts on the floor, a dog-eared book on the nightstand. On my side-- if I could even call it my side-- was a book I had left here and the pair of reading glasses I thought I had misplaced. Harry pressed a kiss to my cheek, before heading to the shower.

I probably stand there like an idiot for more than a minute with a stupid grin on my face. I set my bag in his desk chair, and hold on to it for balance as I peel off my shoes. I toss them into the corner and reach for my cell phone. I press my father's contact and get his voice mail. I tell him that I will be home tomorrow and that I am with Harry. I plug my phone into Harry's extra charger and place it neatly on the bedside table.

I turn on the television and flip through some channels before tossing the remote onto the bed. I fumble through Harry's drawers looking for something to wear to bed. I settle on a black t-shirt that is freshly clean and smells like fabric softener. I peel my sweater over my head and fold it neatly. I peel off my jeans and add them to my pile. I pull Harry's shirt over my head, pausing momentarily when I hear the door to the bathroom shut.

"Now, there is something I could get used to seeing," Harry muses. My cheeks darken as I struggle to pull the shirt over my head. I hear him laugh and firm hands grip the sides of the shirt pulling downwards. I resurface from the depths of the shirt thoroughly embarrassed only to see Harry grinning cheekily at me. I am swimming in his shirt, it is like a dress, hitting me mid-thigh. He presses a kiss to my burning cheek, his hair dripping drops of water onto my skin. He gives me one last look before plopping down on the bed. My cheeks are still colored as I tie up my hair with an elastic from my wrist. I try to nonchalantly look at him out of the corner of my eye; and, damn...he is fine.

He is lazily draped across the bed, one hand tucked behind his head, the other flipping through the channels of the television. He is wearing a white t-shirt that is slightly wet in places from his freshly clean body, and a pair of grey sweatpants (I won't go into much detail, but I am sure you can imagine). He catches me looking, and smiles smugly. I roll my eyes as he pats a spot beside him. I take the stack of my clothes and set them gently with my bag. I spy the clothes he had abandoned on the floor and glare at him.

"What?" He asks.

"Fold your clothes," I command.

"No." He groans.

I cross my arms over my chest. "Fold them."

He dramatically pulls himself from the bed and stomps to his dresser. "Fine." He bends down and scoops up the clothes. I watch as he sloppily folds the t-shirt and jeans, jamming them into his dresser. "Happy?" He asks.

"No!" I say putting my hands on my hips. "Do you even know how to fold clothes?"

He shrugs with a sly grin on his lips. I refold the clothes perfectly, earning an eye roll from Harry. As I am folding he returns to bed, the springs groaning in protest as he plops his body down. I place his shirts into his drawers, and turn to face him. I lean against the dresser with my arms crossed over my chest. Harry is laying on his stomach, his face buried into a pillow. He glances up at me over his shoulder and groans pressing his face deeper into the pillow.

"You're insane, you know that?" Harry says, his voice muffled by the pillow. I laugh lightly, and turn off the lights--the room still lit by his bedside lamp. He rolls over onto his side to make room for me. I crawl on my hands and knees to him, the mattress bending underneath my weight. He tugs me beneath the covers. The sheets are cold against my bare legs. Harry settles onto his back and pulls me practically on top of him. His arms wrap tightly around me. My head rests on his chest, and I can hear his heart beating at a steady pace. His hand rests lazily on my lower back while my arm winds around his shoulder. I place a small kiss to his clothed chest, my fingertips brushing through his wet curls.