opia [h.s au]

Chapter 12

"There's no way this actually happened!" Harry protests, chuckling hard, that damn dimple popping on his cheek.

"I'm telling you!" I giggle along, drinking from my gin tonic and almost choking with it.

Harry laughs louder, throwing his head back and then inhaling a big, sharp breath as if trying to calm himself down before looking back at me, his green eyes sparkling with joy.

"So you're telling me you have only half of a tattoo hidden on your body?" He asks as if trying to certify he understood what I said.

"Yes! Those are f*****g painful things, couldn't get through with it" I shake my head, still giggling of my own ludicrous attempt of marking my body with something else than the big collection of scars caused by my clumsiness.

It was about two months after Sam broke up with me and I was drowning in sorrow and self-pity, getting off of bed only to work and doing it so badly I almost lost my job over it. Dom was so worried he pretty much moved into my apartment, sleeping in my couch and sometimes sharing the bed with me just to make sure I was eating, taking showers and leaving the bed every once in a while.

He would come up with different ideas to help me feel better, like taking yoga classes - which was a total failure -, going for a walk in the middle of the night just to clear my head or even taking me to dog shelters and try to convince me to adopt a puppy. I'm grateful he didn't accomplish that, though. Don't get me wrong, I love dogs a f*****g lot but at that time I wasn't even looking for myself, how in hell would I be able to keep a little dog healthy?

Anyways, one of Dom's brilliant ideas for getting me out of bed and pulling me out of my misery was taking me to his friend's tattoo studio, telling me that it would be a good way to start leaving my past behind. "Why don't you write something meaningful in your skin? Something that will help you remember who you are and what you want in life" He said, caressing my hair as if I was a little lost child and I hated the condescending tone of his voice.

I mean, I knew he had the best intentions at mind but a f*****g tattoo, really? I needed a hammer to smack Sam's face, not a f*****g tattoo. I said no, of course, and waited patiently while Dom marked his skin with some drawing that was meaningful for him somehow.

While waiting I decided to read something to distract my self loathing mind. I was feeling so helpless, so betrayed and so f*****g pathetic, I mean, not only I wasn't enough as a girlfriend for Sam, I was also worthless as a friend to Annabelle. I wished I could understand better the way I felt, I wished there was a word who would describe how hopeless and unworthy I was at that moment.

So I opened Google on my phone and started looking for words to describe the way I was feeling and bumped into a list of words which were capable of describing an entire state of mind or feeling with only a few letters. It was like a compilation of words from all around the world and different languages and I found myself completely drown to that, suddenly changing my mind and deciding I was going to tattoo the one word which was capable of describe my feelings.

Stupid idea, I know, in my defense I was not functioning right, my brain was under some serious food and sleep deprivation and a high level of self-pity so at the time I thought my idea was great. Anyway, I spent more than an hour looking for the f*****g word but there was none that could describe my feelings. I was ready to give up when I read the word "Eglaf", which meant absolutely nothing.

Yeah - Eglaf was described as a word that has no meaning and it can be used in place of any other word.

My drunk in sorrow brain just thought that was perfect. So I decided to print that word in my skin and carry it around with me forever - a word empty of meaning just like I was.

Dom advised me against it, saying the meaning was terrible and it would only make me feel sadder but I didn't care and thirty minutes later I was happily laying on the tattoo artist board, the mock up of the words already on my skin but when he turned that murderous machine on and the needles started doing their jobs, I panicked.

It hurt like a motherfucker and I just couldn't go through with it. I mean, I was already in pain without those f*****g needles, thank you very much.

So that's the story of how I ended up with the letters "E" and "G" barely written on my hip bone. And for some reason that I can't explain, I thought it was a great little tale to tell Harry when he started telling me about his tattoos.

"Tattoos doesn't hurt that badly, Billie!" Harry chuckles, shaking his head "You just can't be serious right now, you need to finish it!"

"No f*****g way!" I squirm with the thought "No needles for me, thank you so much. You would have to drug me first."

A flash of something I can't decipher lights behind Harry's eyes and he raises his hand to his face, pecking his bottom lip between his thumb and index finger, his face still flustered with laughter.

"What?" I raise my eyebrows.

"So this Sam guy, your ex... Was he worthy of a half tattoo?"

I lean on my seat, waiting for the uneasiness to hit me but it doesn't. It's a fact that I hate to talk about Sam and Annabelle, it's been a year but it still hurt to think about them. Of course I'm way better than I was before but that's not the kind of trauma we completely forget about, guess it's a subject that will always hurt to talk about.

However, something in the way Harry is looking at me is soothing. I find it funny that being around him I'm flustered and yet calm, his presence does something to me that is enerving and comfortable at the same time. I don't know how to define it though, I just know that I don't mind sharing with him things I usually don't like to talk about.

"Well, he wasn't worth any tattoo at all" I finally speak, looking around the place to try and avoid Harry's intense eye contact.

When he said he was taking us to a restaurant I imagined it being one of those boring, regular little bistros, the kind of place guys bring girls they want to bang. But no, not Harry. This is more like a pub than an actual restaurant and we ordered different kinds of finger foods and fancy elaborated drinks I'm loving to try.

Harry is not drinking, though. He ordered water and soda for him and although I find that odd, I chose not to interrogate him why - that's none of my business anyway. However I'm having a lot of fun creating different mixes and drinks.

"Did you have any kind of contact with him or your... Friend after what happened?" Harry pushes a little.

"No, not at all. He did not try to contact me ever again, neither did she... " I sigh.

"Why are you upset about it? Seems like that was the least they could do, leave you alone."

"Yeah..." Taking another sip from my drink, I look towards Harry whose intent gaze is still glued on my eyes "I mean, of course I don't want to talk to them or see them or whatever but it kinda made me feel completely disposable, you know? Like they wrecked my world and didn't even bother to know if I survived it"

Harry reaches for my hand over the table and give it a little squeeze, the warmth of his skin making my own tingle as usually happens every time he touches me. It's like one simple brush of his skin is capable of awakening every little nerve of my body.

"They were disposable, not you." He says intently, his eyes sparkling in my direction "They didn't deserve you, weren't worthy of you. What they did was low and you deserve so much better."

I can't look away, my eyes are completely caught by his intent gaze and for a second I feel like all the air is punched out of my lungs, it's like I'm drowning on the green of his eyes and I'm completely taken aback with the way he looks at me and talks to me, it's like I'm the only person in the world, he makes me feel like there's nothing more interesting than the words leaving my mouth. And when he talks to me, his voice sounds like music to my ears, soothing, smooth, ultimately masculine and yet sweet.

This guy is seriously the most intriguing and breathtaking person I've ever meet in my entire life.

I need to think about something else.

"Hm.. Thank you, I guess" I finally mumble, breaking the intense eye contact we've been holding for the past few minutes to down half of my gin tonic in one big gulp. "How about you? What was the terrible experience that broke you to another person?" I try to sound playful and nonchalant about it but truth is I'm dying to know a little more about him.

This is the third time Harry and I are talking, really just making conversation since I'd met him and I came to realize that as much as he likes to ask me a million questions, always with a charming smile playing on his lips, he shares very little about himself. He remains a mystery to me in almost every subject I can think of.

All I know about him are the things Gemma shared with me before I even met him. I know that he likes to party, that he loves photography, that he is always travelling and and meeting all kinds of people around the globe. I know he is afraid of commitment, know that although he is not doing what his family wanted him to do, he still manages to have an excellent relationship with their parents.

There's just little things I've learned about him after meeting him. Like the fact he likes to cook - and do it amazingly well, how straight forward he is about the things he wants and that although he is always playing the bad boy type, he was extremely gentle with me when I was annoyingly drunk at Dom's party.

"No one, actually" As usual, he gives me an evasive answer "I've never been in a relationship, it's just not my style. I like to be on my own."

"Can't blame you" I giggle. "Although being in a relationship also has its perks."

"Like what?"

"Well you don't need to worry about what the hell are you going to do every weekend, there's always your partner to spend time with... And when you're really thirsty during the night you can ask them to go grab a glass of water for you so you don't need to get off bed" I shrug and Harry laughs hard.

"Oh darling, now you convinced me, I need to find myself a girlfriend" He chuckles, rolling his eyes "Nah, I prefer take a bottle of water to bed every night".

"Bright side of being alone is no one will wake up in the middle of the night and drink your entire bottle of water, leaving it empty for you" I roll my eyes, remembering that's one of the things Sam used to do that drove me crazy along the years.

"Can think of one bright side of being in a relationship, though" Harry says, his face suddenly dropping to a serious expression that makes me raise my eyebrows in curiosity.

"Sex." He states, proudly.

"What about it?"

"s*x, all the time. You don't need to worry about the chase, to go out, meet someone, try to have some level of connection, you can just bang your partner whenever you please" Harry says matter of factly and I suddenly burst into laughter.

Oh, poor boy.

"Hate to break this for you, baby boy, but things are not as simple as that!" I giggle "Try being with the same person for two, three years. Once you learn everything about their body it stops being such an exciting thing, it turns into a routine."

"What? Are you crazy?" Harry raises his voice in protest "If you learn everything about the body of another person, you know just the right places to touch and to turn and damn, s*x must be amazing, with no clumsiness or fear of pushing boundaries."

"Ha, you wish!" I giggle with sarcasm, rolling my eyes "After two years is more like one quickie once a week if you're lucky and orgasms become a long gone memory."

"No. f*****g. Way." Harry seems to be really fazed with my words and I think that's funny, although I might be ruining him even more for whoever may want to have a serious relationship with him someday. "You're wrong."

"Who here have been in a serious relationship for more than two years?" I ask loudly, looking around us and raising my hand while Harry stays completely still, biting down his bottom lip in amusement as he watches me "There you go. I'm older and I have more experience, therefore I'm right. s*x is overrated" I conclude, giving him a big smug grin.

Harry gives me yet another slow once over, his eyes lingering a second longer in my lips and his eyes twinkle towards me, the emerald green seemingly even clearer under the dim light of the pub. He suddenly stands up, circling the table we're sitting at and pushing his chair behind him until he places it right by my side, sitting so close I can feel the warmth of his body towards mine.

"Listen to me, love" He mumbles, his raspy voice dropping to an octave and I need to lean my head closer in order to be able to listen to him "If you think s*x is overrated, you haven't been properly fucked."

A shiver runs down my spine as soon as the words leaves his mouth, my stomach fluttering and suddenly I feel anxious, almost squirming in place with the inflection of his voice. It's full of promises and dirty intentions and I have to take a deep breath before talking again, gathering all my self control to keep my voice steady.

"You lucky you're a guy, having a d**k shouldn't be such a blessing" I blurt out "It's easy to please you guys, so of course you would think something like that."

Harry flickers his eyes between mine, being impossibly close and definitely not close enough, his pink tongue sticking out of his mouth to wet his lips and he also take a deep breath but seems to be for a different reason than me.

"Having a c**k is amazing, darling, but you know what it's even better?" He pauses, leaning an inch forward to brush his lips against mine for a split second before adding in a voice so low it almost sounds like a groan "Knowing how to use it."

I feel like my stomach just detached from my body and fell to my feet, my breath suddenly getting shallower and I feel my palms sweating. Sucking my bottom lip inside of my mouth, I feel as that other Billie who seems only awake in Harry's presence emerges, pushing me off my limits and I almost can't believe the words that leaves my mouth in a slow purr.

"Why don't you show me, then?"