dEVIL {h.s. au}

Chapter Fifteen

After Harry and I kill another innocent man, we go back to my house, where I have no intention of sleeping. My mind doesn't know when to turn off, so I have been laying in bed, staring at the ceiling for the past hour.

I throw the covers off me and make my way into the kitchen in hopes that a cup of hot chocolate might help. When I stumble into the dark room, I notice Harry leaning against the counter.

"Why are you up?" I ask, flipping on the light.

"I didn't really feel like sleeping. What about you?" He follows my every move with his eyes as I make the hot chocolate.

"Wouldn't you like to know." I give him a sly grin before starting the microwave. I press the start button, dreading the next two minutes with Harry.

"Someone's a little grumpy. Remind me to always let you get a full night's rest." He teases, and I roll my eyes as I hoist myself onto the counter top beside him.

"Maybe it has something to do with the fact that two people died tonight." 

"Why does people dying bother you so much?" He stands in front of me, placing a hand on either side of me.

"I'm sorry that I'm not a heartless demon." I roll my eyes at his incredibly stupid question.

"Hailee wasn't a heartless demon, and she didn't seem to mind killing all those people." He says, and I stiffen.

"Stop right there." I warn. After seeing Hailee twice tonight already, I'm not in the mood to talk about her.

"I'm sorry. I wish there was a way I could help you." His words come out slowly as his hands glide onto my thighs, making everything inside of me stop.

"Harry, don't." I take a breath in an attempt to calm my heart, but just like Harry's hands, it refuses to stop.

"Tabitha, you're too stressed. Let me help you relax." He soothes, his hands spreading my legs so he can stand between them, cutting out any space between us.

"You're the reason I'm so stressed." I retort, looking up at the ceiling, for as much as I hate it, looking in his eyes makes me weak.

"Just give in for one night. There's a reason we're both up." His voice is low and alluring. He grabs each side of my face, forcing me to look at him.

For a second, we stay like this, lost in the moment. Lost in each other's gaze. Then, without warning, Harry kisses me. His lips are soft and gentle on mine, like he knows I'm nervous. Nervous is an understatement. Everything in me is yelling to push him away, but the way his lips mesh perfectly with mine make it impossible to pull away.

His hands find mine, guiding them onto his shoulders, then he places his own on my hips, gripping them like I could be gone any second. I jump at the sudden beeping coming from the microwave, alerting me that the water is hot for my hot chocolate. Harry slowly pulls his lips off of mine, a smile on his face.

"God damn microwave scared the hell out of me." He mumbles, making me laugh, and our lips find each other again.

This time our kiss is more passionate and full of need. I entangle my fingers in his hair, letting my instinct take over, and shutting out the voice in my head telling me that this is wrong. If I'm going to kill people and be a messenger from Hell, I might as well play the part. 

I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him as close as possible. He lets out a groan, sending everything in me into a fit. He gracefully pulls my shirt over my head, wasting no time in resuming our kiss once it's on the floor. His hands move to my thighs, giving them a tight squeeze before lifting me into him. Letting out a squeal, I pull away from our kiss and rest my head on his shoulder.