opia [h.s au]

Chapter 9

It's been almost a week since Dom's party and I'm laying on my bed wearing my oldest clothes, as my usual agenda for Friday nights.

I had an intense week at work, but nothing extraordinary, just the same kind of trouble and stress I'm already used to deal with by this point. It still makes me exhausted by the end of the week but it's not like I'd have anything else to do anyway.

Tonight I'm binge watching Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, one of my favorite shows of all times, feeling completely useless once my stomach is crying for some food but I just don't have the energy to get up from bed and walk to the kitchen.

Ha, who I'm kidding?

There's nothing in my fridge anyway, all I need to do I take my phone and call the pizza place, but guess what? It's on my purse back in the living room and there's no way I'll leave my warm bed to get it.

Yeah, I know I turn to human trash as soon as I step inside of my home, but I can't help it. At least Mrs. Scott came today so the apartment is clean, otherwise I would literally be surrounded by trash.

Usually I'm neat and somewhat organized but lately I've been just too tired to care this much about it, that's why I hired Mrs. Scott, a sweet lady who comes once a week to clean and keep my apartment how I need it to be. It's something I could totally do myself during the weekends, as I used to do before, but lately I don't want to spend my valuable time cleaning.

Some would say that spend an entire weekend watching Netflix is just another way to waste time, but I'm not one of those people.

I haven't seen or spoken to Harry since last Saturday when he brought me home and literally put me to bed. f**k, just to think about that makes me want to vomit - it was such a shame! And if I remember well I completely opened up, telling him the lame truth about that night six months ago.

He must be thinking I'm some needy person who have spider webs spread all over my v****a. Which I actually am but I'm not ready to share this much about myself yet.

However, I also can't forget the way he said I'm gorgeous and how we almost kissed before Gemma calling to ruin anything. After that I have to admit I had a tiny sparkle of hope that Harry would try to reach me out during the week so we could pick up from where we left off, but I was completely wrong about that.

I told everything to Dom, who said I'm the worst person ever for letting an opportunity with Harry escape again, that he is just too f*****g hot for me to ignore it but it's not like I have an option right now, is it?

Gemma was in a terrible mood this week, which I find very strange, she is usually a very happy person, I call her my own personal ray of sunshine with her positive attitude and constant optimistic smile. However, these last few days she has been very on edge and kind of cranky.

Usually she opens up to me easily but something this time kept her from doing it and the only thing I can think about is that Harry might have something to do with that. She was doing great until he arrived, but she always talked so proudly of him, so full of love, I would never think he is the one putting her in such a miserable position.

Although, now that I'm thinking about it, I did saw her exchanging long ass text messages with Adam, her boyfriend who is currently living on Canada. They usually see each other every two or three weekends, and I think he wasn't very happy about Gemma going out with Dom and I last Saturday. I'm not sure though - Gemma always shares with me everything but she has been very secretive about whatever is upsetting her this week, brushing it off every time I asked if everything was ok.

So I just decided to respect her space, she knows I'm here when she's ready to talk or even just sit along and eat a whole carton of ice cream in silence. You know, I'm very good at that.

I hate to say that not one day has passed without me expecting to see a glimpse of Harry when Gemma arrived work or left for home, but he was always inside of the car and didn't even roll the window down so guess he wasn't so eager to talk to me again. On Wednesday our regular photographer missed work again but Harry denied covering for his shift, saying something about having a doctor appointment.

I'm trying very hard not to think that this has something to do with me, the rational portion of my brain insisting I haven't done anything wrong, but the self-conscious, insecure part of my can't stop screaming I scared him away.

My intercom buzzes, pulling me out of my mind and I notice almost an entire episode of Crazy Ex-Girlfriend passed before my eyes and I didn't catch a glimpse of it. So much for binge watching.

Groaning, I practically crawl out of the bed, cursing all kinds of dirty words under my breath. I've told Marcel, the doorman from my building, over and over again that he doesn't need to announce every time Dom stops by, he can come and go whenever he pleases but Marcel continues to be very strict with the building rules.

"Hey, he can come in" I groan at the intercom, hating that I had to leave the bed for that.

"Ok" Marcel agrees, turning the phone down before I could add he didn't have to call me every time Dom comes here.

He is always around anyway.

Unlocking the door, I crawl back to my room. Dom has my spare key so theoretically I shouldn't need to left my door unlocked for him but he also has the terrible habit of leaving it at his car, among his own keys and the keys for his mother's. I mean, if someday I have some kind of emergency I would probably die before the son of b***h find the right key.

Coming back to my bed, I crawl under the comforter to the exact same position I was before Marcel calling. Dom usually just stops by to taunt me about eating right and try and get me out of the house. I hope this is one of his visits to complain about food so I can shut him up by ordering something for dinner.

I hear a light knock in my door and roll my eyes with so much intent they almost get stuck in the back of my head. "Ugh, it's open!" I scream from my room and hear when the door opens slowly. 

Why is up with him today? Dom usually enter my house already complaining about me being a terrible host with loud remarks about how much I don't deserve such a good friend like him.

I wait patiently in my bed, one of my favorite scenes of the show making my laugh out loud at the same time I hear faltering footsteps at my door.

"Why do you have a f*****g key if you never remember to use it?" I grumble, my eyes still glued to the TV.

"Well, love, I would love to have it but I don't" A raspy, very British and very non-Dominic voice takes me off guard and I feel my blood froze under my skin.

Fuck.

Oh f*****g f**k f****d s**t.

Holy f*****g s**t.

Leaning against the doorframe of my room, carrying a big bag and looking at me with that f*****g smirk, is Harry.

What the f**k is he doing here? 

"What the-" I squeal, jumping from under the comforter and looking to Harry, suddenly very conscious about my torn out oversized t-shirt and how my hair is so tangled in a knot in the top of my head it would be too optimistic calling it a messy bun. It's more like a bird's nest.

"What are you doing here?" I finally manage to blurt out, trying not to sound so fazed but failing miserably.

Harry raises his eyebrows, nodding towards the bag he is holding. "I'm here to cook you dinner." He says matter of factly.

"What? Why?" I ask, trying to at least untangle my messed hair using my fingers, very conscious that I may be looking like a hobo.

"Felt like it" He shrugs, turning on his heels and leaving my bedroom. "Do you want to show me your kitchen?" I hear him asking in distance while stepping away.

I jolt out of my bed, running to my bathroom to at least try and look a little more presentable. Thank f**k I took a shower as soon as I arrived home today. Quickly brushing my hair and using some mouthwash as I look at the mirror, trying to understand what the f**k just happened.

What is Harry doing here? Why does he "feel like" cooking dinner for me? No one is that random and kind, if he is here he wants something, it has to be a reason behind it. He wouldn't just show up at my place on a Friday night with a bag full of groceries and good intentions.

I mean I thought we really connected last Saturday, we talked a lot at Dom's party and it was really fun, actually it was funnier than I would ever imagine. Although I was a little ashamed that he saw me drunk as a lord, before that I was thrilled with the idea that it's not only our bodies that seems to have an undeniable chemistry.

But if he felt the same way then why he didn't even tried to talk to me all week? He could have asked for my number, or he could at least left the car when picking up Gemma the entire week. f**k, even scrolling down the window would do it. But he chose to be distant and now out of the blue he appears in my apartment to cook dinner for me?

It doesn't make any sense.

Inhaling a sharp breath, I leave the bathroom and walk towards my kitchen, thanking all the Gods I don't believe in for having Mrs. Scott to clean everything earlier today.

Harry is leaning against the kitchen counter, a smirk playing in his lips while he waits patiently for me. He gives me a slow once over as soon as I step in and I pull the hem of my t-shirt lower, even though it's so big for me it already reach almost to my knees.

"I like the way you look when you're at home. Seems comfortable." He praises when his eyes finally meet mine.

"Comfortable is just another way to call it hobo clothes" I roll my eyes playfully "I wasn't expecting visits so you'll have to deal with my lack of elegance tonight."

"I think comfortable is the most sexy thing one can be, or wear" He winks at me "So I'll gladly cope with it. Why did you buzz me in if you weren't expecting people?"

"Well I thought it may be Dom, he usually stops by to try and bribe me to get out of the house" I shrug.

"Hmm" He hums in response, turning his back to me.

I watch as Harry starts to empty the big bag he brought, unpacking a lot of ingredients I don't think I'd ever had in my kitchen before. There's meat, herbs, different kinds of cheese, fresh tomatoes, garlic, olive oil, pepper, rock salt, bread, eggs, flour, potato, milk and some other things I don't even recognize.

"What the hell is all that?" I raise my eyebrows, a disbelief inflexion on my voice.

"I'd told you already, gonna cook you dinner sweetheart."

"Yea but why?" I sit on the kitchen counter, being careful not to show off more skin than necessary.

Harry sighs before looking at me, his eyes darting to my legs before he pins his gaze on my face. "Gem told me you don't cook and I remember seeing only ice cream on your fridge. So I decided to make you some home cooked dinner for a change, instead of taking you out."

"Why would you take me out?" I raise my eyebrows, completely lost on his true reasons for being here tonight "And hey, ice cream is a nice meal, you should try it sometime."

Harry rolls his eyes, moving closer until he is standing right in front of me, the combination of him being tall and me being short making our eyes stay almost in the same level even though I'm sitting on the counter. He casually rests his hands on my bare knees and I try to ignore the little electroshocks rolling all over my body.

He pins his eyes on mine, giving me a sly smile. "Because I can't seem to stop thinking about you and that night six months ago." He says matter of factly and I'm slight baffled by how straight to the point he is.

"Well you could at least called me first and asked me if I am willing to go out with you" I try to keep my face straight and serious, but it's hard to bite down the smirk fighting to break my lips at my smart-ass response.

So he can't stop thinking about me? My stomach drops with the realization of what he is talking about and for how much I can relate.

Can't stop thinking about him either.

"It's harder to say no when I'm already here, darling" The smug on his face is so intense I suddenly feel the need to slap it out of him.

"Aren't you a little devil?" Raising my eyebrows, I stretch my right leg to slightly touch his thigh with my big toe "What if I didn't want to see you?"

"Just say the word and I'll go" Harry smirks but I can see a little flash of insecurity behind his eyes "Do you want me to?"

It's my turn to give him a slow once over and I take the opportunity to look more intently at him. He is wearing tight black jeans, boots and a t-shirt and this must be the most relaxed outfit I'd ever seen him wearing, outside of work. Of course that having seen him only twice off work I'm not the most reliable source of information but you get my point.

"What you're cooking?" I ask, darting my eyes to the kitchen balcony behind him, filtered with ingredients.

"Italian" Harry answers matter of factly "Gnocchi al formaggio with filet mignon on the side and bruschettas".

"Really?" I raise my eyebrows in surprise. Are you f*****g kidding me?

Handsome as f**k, hot as hell, British and still capable of cooking Italian food? It's not like I'm having any chance at all, Jesus.

"Really." He smirks, taking another step towards me, forcing my legs open so he stays between them, impossibly close. Emerald green eyes pinned on mine, he leans forwards, so close I can feel his warm breath tingling my face "So can I stay?" He asks in a raspy, low voice, his nose almost touching mine.

"Y-you can stay" I mumble, my mind suddenly going completely empty with his proximity. I can't think straight when he is so close, the intoxicating smell of his cologne sending me to an espiral of memories and making my head dizzy.

Harry stay silent for a few seconds, his eyes never leaving mine and I swear to God my brain has turned into a cotton ball, I'm completely unable to form a single word, all I can do is hold Harry's gaze and hope he will close the little distance between us and kiss me already.

He inhale a deep breath, taking a step back with a f*****g smirk on his face.

"Great! Let's get this started then."

"How can I help?" I ask reluctantly, still trying to calm down the pace of my heart which is beating so freaking loudly I'm afraid Harry will listen.

"You can open the red wine, serve us and keep your hands to yourself" He winks at me, quickly making a quick bun with his hair "I got this."

I do as he say, serving two glasses of wine before coming back to sit in the kitchen counter, silently watching him move around the kitchen with so much grace is almost like he is dancing, a natural maneuver on the way he chops, swirls, mix up ingredients together and proves every single time he adds something new to the mixture. It's kind of hypnotic to watch.

Taking a sip from my wine, I need to squeeze my thighs together when he starts to mingle the smashed potatoes to the flour and egg using his bare hands. The way the muscles on his arms tensions as he adds more strength, beating up the mixture and grumbling a little. I never thought watching someone cook could be so f*****g sexy and I honestly don't know if is the act of cooking or just the fact that Harry is the one doing it, but by the time he starts cutting the pasta on little balls my underwear is already a little damp.

Jesus, I need it bad.

"So Billie, tell me something love" Harry says, now braising garlic and onion, the amazing smell making my stomach fumble with desire "What did you mean when you said you don't date?"

"W-what?" I stutter over his out of the blue question.

"Last week when I thought Dom was your boyfriend, you said you don't date. Why is that?" Harry looks at me over his shoulder, his cheeks a little red with the heat of the stove, his green eyes sparkling at me and I take another sip of wine to gain a little time before answering.

Why does he want to know that? By all means he should be relieved to know I'm not the kind of woman who will demand a marriage after two or three dates.

"So..?" Harry presses me, turning his back again and adding some more ingredients to the pan.

"Don't know, I just don't think I would be able to have a serious relationship again" I shrug "Just don't see the point, you know? To give another person so much power over you. Also, I don't have time for that anyway"

"What happened?" Harry asks and I don't need to question what does he mean. I'm starting to realize Harry is always straight to the point with his questions, and to be honest I kind of like that, saves a lot of time we would spend with bullshit mind games and guessing charades.

"I had a serious relationship for about three years until he dumped me over my best friend, who he was f*****g for a while before ending things with me" I roll my eyes, downing the remainder of my wine in one big gulp.

"Oh, that's harsh. When you say your best friend, do you mean...?"

"No! No, not Dom. Sam is straight" I chuckle "It was with Annabelle, my girl best friend. Never be friends with a girl so much hotter than you, I guess" Shrugging again, I refill my glass, feeling i***t for still being so fazed about what happened over a year ago.

"Seriously doubt that" Harry winks at me, now chopping cheese with fast skilled motions.

"Why you ask?" I question, trying to understand where is he going with all of that.

"Was curious about it..." Harry shrugs "I don't date too but not because I had some dickhead to screw me over, I just don't feel I would be good at it. Like my freedom too much."

I nod, even though his back is turned to me and he isn't able to see my face. I still don't get why our conversation got to this subject, it's not something I'm very comfortable to talk about.

"Just thought it would be good to make things clear" Harry says, as if he knows what is passing through my mind right now.

"What do you mean?" I ask again, feeling kind of stupid for not getting what he means straight away but now he is being f*****g mysterious and I don't like that.

"Dinner is almost ready" He changes the subject and I hate to say that I'm so f*****g hungry I don't even care about it. We can always talk later "Would you be an angel and set the table for us?"

"Oh, sorry"" I chuckle "I don't have a table. Would you mind sitting at the floor and eating over the center table of my living room?"

Harry laughs loud, turning to look at me with a sincere, authentic smile that makes my knees go all wobbly all of the sudden. "It's perfect, love." 

~*~

This was, hands down, the most delicious meal I'd ever had in my entire life. By the time we end eating, I'm already missing the moment I took my first bite, that's how magical it felt.

I'm very glad there's a lot of leftover because I could eat this dish forever.

Harry is smiling proudly over my non-stop wave of praises about how amazing of a cook he is, seriously questioning why he don't do that for a living. Really, I would pay big money to eat the gnocchi he made.

"You're just this amazed because you don't eat real food very often" Harry shrugs "You should really start eating better."

"Nah, I'm good that way" I dismiss him with a hand wave "Keep it practical and simple, that's my vibe. I don't have time to cook".

Harry leans his back on the couch, sitting more comfortably while spreading his long legs on the floor, his eyes never leaving mine. I came to realize that Harry has a very unique way of holding his gaze, when I look into his eyes is like he is seeing every tiny bit of my soul while his continues to be a mystery. He is all easy going, talkative and smily but it's very hard to push some information out of him. It's like everything he does have a purpose behind it, but only him is able to know what it actually is.

"So, you don't have to cook and don't have time to date" He says matter of factly. "What do you have the time for?"

"Work" I answer him immediately, not even trying to I do something else in my life.

"Really? So you work all week and when you arrive home you're just too tired to cook or do anything else than laying down and sleeping, right?" Harry asks and I start to feel uneasy, don't think I like the inflection on his voice, so I just nod.

"I see.. But do you work during weekends as well? Are you going to work tomorrow?"

Oh, I see where he is going with all this questions.

"No, I usually stay at home. Work drains all of my energy during the week." I dart my eyes from his.

"You know that's bullshit, right?" Harry chuckles "I know working can be exhausting but when do you get the time to do things for you? To go out with your friends, have a nice dinner, visit your family or any other activity than just laying in bed and watching TV shows?"

I know this should be something that fazed me but to be honest I'm very used to have Dom repeating the same speech to me almost every day. I don't know exactly how things came to this, but truth is ever since Sam and I broke up I don't feel that need to go out anymore. While dating, we were a very homy couple, always choosing to stay inside, guess that is something that I inherit from the relationship.

When I was younger, before I even met Sam, I loved to go out, party at clubs and live life at its best, my routine was chaotic, I'd gladly trade a good night of sleep for a regular night out, just because I used to like too much to be partying. But that was me when I had like 23 years old, I had time, energy and now all I have is tiredness.

"Well, I went to Dom's party last week" I shrug, darting my eyes from Harry's.

"That aside, when was the last time you went out during a weekend?" Harry insists.

"Oh, I don't know, like two months ago? Jeez, why do you care so much?" I playfully nudge my shoulder on his "I'm not young as you are anymore, I'm old and tired."

"Rubbish" He rolls his eyes "You're talking nonsense. Do you know what I think?" He doesn't give me a chance to answer before he is talking again "You are not tired, you're bored."

Of course I'm bored, life is boring. I just don't think is that fun to spend an entire night standing at some random party, talking to random people, drinking random beverages. Even when I was in a relationship, the idea of doing anything that included having to change from my pajamas to regular clothes was enough to make me squirm.

"I am" I finally agree with him and he raises his eyebrows "Life is boring and I'd rather stay home watching the lives of fictional characters than having to see and interact with random people that have nothing to add in my life".

Harry don't say anything. Instead, he just watches me, his eyes darting between mine seeming to be deeply in thought, his eyebrows knitted and f**k, he is gorgeous. I love the way his pouty lips gets even more prominent when he is lost in thoughts like that.

"I'll take these away" I say quietly, standing up and starting to catch our dirty plates and silverware. Harry just nods, his face still freeze as if he doesn't know from where to start. I can see his mind is working fast but his face stays still.

Oh, f**k, I broke the kid.

I leave him alone in the living room and go to the kitchen, putting all the dirty dishes over the sink - I'll deal with them tomorrow, there's no rush to clean things now. Feeling the need to offer something in return for the delicious dinner Harry just cooked, I open my freezer to dig out some ice cream and serve as dessert.

There's salt caramel, chocolate chips and vanilla, I wonder which one of them Harry likes the most. My favorite is vanilla, which is as boring as I am, now that I'm thinking about it. I bet Harry favorite is chocolate chips, strong and striking that lingers in your mouth for a long period.

Or maybe he is more a salt caramel kind of guy, surprisingly tasty, somewhat fancy and definitely salty, the perfect combination between sweet and sour, as intoxicating as his presence.

Maybe Harry seasoned the dinner with weed? I'm definitely poetic tonight.

Giggling to myself, I decide to ask Harry which one is his favorite instead of trying to poetically guess. Closing the freezer, I turn on my heels just to bump into a hard chest and if it wasn't for the fridge behind me I would probably fall on my butt right now.

"Oh, s-sorry" I mumble, looking up only to find his emerald green eyes digging holes on my eyes. 

Harry's presence makes the kitchen seem smaller and he is very, very close, I can even feel the warmth of his body and the intoxicating smell of his cologne.

"Imagine if you decided to stay at home watching some random TV show that night, six months ago" Harry's voice is raspy and he is talking slower than usual, his pouty lips wrapping around every word that leaves his mouth. I'm completely paralyzed with the sound of his voice and proximity of his body, but my heart starts beating faster as soon as he mentions that night.

"We would never have met" Harry takes a step forward, his body now so close we are almost touching, an inch of distance between my chest and his "We would never have danced together" His voice is even lower now and I know my eyes are wide and my cheeks are crimson red but I just can't stop staring at him, my eyes seems to be glued to his.

"We would never had touched" He ghosts his hands over my shoulders and down my arms, my skin shivering with so much closeness and I suddenly desperate for his touch. He is so close and yet so distant, this is like torture.

"We would never had kissed" Harry leans over me, his warm breath hitting my face and now I don't know how to breathe. It's like my insides are slowly melting and he hasn't even actually touched me. He ghosts his lips over mine and I catch a deep breath, my entire body slightly trembling in expectation and I move a little forward, trying to catch his lips with mine but he darts his head a little, just enough for me not to touch him and a smirk cracks on his lips.

"You know, Billie, I'm bored too" Harry says lowly, his eyes studying my face and lingering on my lips and I'm sure my mind just melted and turned into mush, I'm completely frozen like a rabbit caught by it's predator. The difference being I'm not frozen by fear. "And do you know what I like to do when I'm bored?"

He nuzzles the tip of his nose on mine, his breath tingling my skin and I dart my eyes to his lips, seeing his pink tongue sneaking out of his mouth to wet his lips.

"W-what?" I stutter and to be honest I'm surprised my voice didn't sound like a high pitched squeal.

"I f**k" He says, crashing his lips against mine.