walked into the living room and he was standing there. “hey baby!” hugged me, asked how school was, and i told him i got a job at the hostel. he was excited for me, told me i was moving up in life. i looked like shit but i was so excited to see him. we all sat together outside and drank beer and smoked cigarettes. played this trashy card game. he kept making jokes about whether i’d get lucky tonight. 

he flirts in subtle ways. touches the inside of my knee, traces my fingertips, rests his head on my shoulder. calls me babe, angel, darling. ben told me i was beautiful and harry laughed, ruffled my hair, “she’s got a beautiful face.” jesus christ, that accent. 

he told me he loved my jumper. i corrected him, called it a sweater. “wot? wot is a sweeter? that doesn’t even make sense, baby.” he asked if we could switch jumpers and i agreed. we giggled our way into the loft and he started ruffling thru his bag. “check this out, muthahfuckah.” pulls out sweaters, makes me feel the material of three or four of them. “oh here, here babe. this one. this one. you’re going to look so hot in this. not that you aren’t all ready. ahhhhhh.” “you’re a fucking idiot.” “you son of a bitch.” 

i pull my jumper off and he hums porno music. i hit him in the stomach and toss the sweater at him and he drops his in my arms. i push my head thru. “oh my gawd, you look better in that than i do!” i laugh and he puts my spiderman sweater on. the collar is low, obviously a woman’s top. i laugh. “beautiful.” we high five and tumble out of the loft, into the backyard, giggling at each other and oblivious to everyone else. 

we spend most of the night flirting and beating each other up. he calls me a bitch and i call him a cunt. he takes the scotch tape people were using on the cats and tapes all my fingers but the middle one to my palm. i pull his hair and he whimpers. at one point, i go into the house to pee and when i come back out, he’s gone.

“that boy just went to bed,” hannah told me, warning and teasing. 
“go get him.”

i head towards the loft, say goodnight to teo and tom. i walk thru the beds, sigh, stop at mine. i know he’s laying in bed, but i whisper his name anyway.

“are you sleeping?”
“what’s wrong with you?”
“i’m sad.”
i sit on the side of his bed. “um, why?”
“i don’t wanna leave amurrrika,” he pouts.
“then don’t. stay.”
“well what do you want?”
“i want a goat-“
“… with laser beams coming out of its head.”
“oh my god.”

i smack him and he grabs me, pulls me down onto the bed.

“can i sleep in your bed tonight?”
“hell yes!”

i toss my arm over his chest, rest my chin, look up at him. we make fun of each other. he calls me the female hitler and i choke on laughter, trying to keep quiet as to not wake anyone up.

“no, you have to talk to me,” i tell him after he declares he won’t talk to me anymore. i poke and pinch him.
“nope, you’re going to have to do better than that.”

my face hovers close to his, my mouth inches from his, my hair a curtain. i hold my breath, almost kiss him, pull away and bury my face in his shoulder. he runs a hand down my back and i lift my face and we meet in the middle, his mouth pressing into mine, and he’s the first boy i’ve kissed since ryan. and it’s nothing like ryan. harry’s lips are thinner, kisses lighter, whereas ryan’s always moving fast. we kiss and his arm tightens around him. he adjusts himself, and i’m underneath him and everything is sweet. i try to keep my breathing quiet, try to keep the smacking of our lips to a minimum. but i’m finding it difficult to give a fuck about any of the other people asleep. i just want him, in the calmness of the night, in the wildness of brooklyn. 

and his hands are moving everywhere and zippers are being pushed down and my shirt is being pushed up and i’m sighing into his ear and his breathing is fast. i begin to unbutton his trousers, mutter about how they’re impossible and he laughs. his sighs get louder and he’s kissing me hard, biting my lip, moving to my neck and my earlobe. and i have to shush his gasping but i can’t help my smile and then everything lifts and rises and then slowly deflates, his chest falling, breathing harsh, and my fingers move slower and he kisses me so sweet. we clean up and curl up under the sheets and i’m resting against him and he puts my hand on his chest and puts his hand over mine. and we fall asleep, and that’s all i’ve wanted for the past few days; just to fall asleep with someone. and i love it, even though it’s not always comfortable and i get sweaty easily and his arm underneath my neck gets annoying and my body is kind of stiff the next morning. but he wakes up a few hours later, smacks my ass, crawls out of bed, and i give a breathless laugh and fall back asleep.

we say goodbye, hug, he calls me darling. i hug his brother. goodbye goodbye goodbye. “do well in new york, baby.” 

when i went into the kitchen after they left, i found my spiderman jumper along with his fuzzy gray one. i wore it all day today. 

i just found this and got butterflies reading it. this boy was srsly perfect for me. so fucking fleeting.

(Source: carlomarxisms)