The Deal

*Olivia Harper*

I let out a loud huff and sat upright. I checked the time on my watch. Great, it was only 1 am, and I couldn’t sleep. I picked up my phone and decided to check my twitter.

As I scrolled through my mentions, I heard a soft rap on the window. I stilled completely. Who the hell was knocking on my window at 1 am in the morning? I looked towards my window, not moving. I could see a large silhouetted figure outside. It continued knocking urgently.

I got off quickly and grabbed my perfume—the closest thing I had to a pepper spray right now. I inched slowly towards the window, not even breathing. My hand moved towards the window slowly and opened it, holding my breath.

“HARRY?” I asked.

The curly haired boy looked very uncomfortable crouching on the window sill, grabbing on to the edges for dear life. If he fell, it wouldn’t hurt him much, because the window wasn’t too high up from the ground.

“Fuck, too you long enough.” he muttered. “Grab my hand and let me in!”

I took hold of his hand and pulled him in with all the strength I had in me. He fell inside, and I staggered back, both of us almost falling down. I used him to steady myself. I shut the window quietly and then hurriedly checked to make sure my bedroom door was locked. Then I turned to him.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I hissed at him.

He grinned. “I couldn’t sleep.” he said. He took in my appearance, my tank top and sleep shorts and messy bed hair. “You look hot.”

“So you decided to come here? In the middle of the night?” I asked incredulously, ignoring his last sentence.

“Well…yeah.” he muttered.

“Harry, if dad and Linda see you—”

“They won’t.” he waved my fear off. “I’ll be gone before they wake up.”

“But why are you here?” I asked him.

Harry smirked and wrapped his arms around my waist. “Why do you think, Harper?”

“Harry—”

He cut me off with a kiss.

“Seriously? Right now?” I asked him.

“Why not?” he questioned, kissing down my neck. “Come on, Harper. Are you going to send me away just like that? I came all the way to your house…”

“Harry, dad and Linda are just below this room!” I said urgently, as I felt him push up my night shirt.

“Mmm, why do you care?” he asked me. “I’ll be quick.”

I felt his hand travel up to my breasts, and I started to lose control. His thumb massaged mu nipple as he sucked on my collarbone, and I bit my lip to stop myself from moaning. I really couldn’t risk any loud noises right now.

“No bra?”

“Who sleeps with a fucking bra on?” I asked, as he pushed me onto the bed and crawled on top of me.

“I wouldn’t know.” he chuckled against my skin, as his hand slipped inside my shorts. “I don’t wear one.”

“You need something to cover up those extra nipples of yours.” I pointed out. “They’re weird.”

“Hey,” he protested, kissing my behind my ear, “girls actually find that attractive.”

“I fail to see how.”

He pulled away and grinned down at me. Our noses were brushing against each others, and I could see his green eyes sparkling, even in the dim light streaming through the window. “You find them attractive, Harper. You find me attractive.”

I blushed as my stomach churned at the softness of his voice. I didn’t reply. “Will you just do what you came here for?” I asked him instead.

He chuckled and got back to kissing every inch of my face and neck. He palmed my crotch from outside my panties, and I lifted my hips slightly into his hands.

“I wish I could make you moan,” he whispered softly in my ear. “I want to hear you scream my name, Olivia. I want to let your neighbours know my name. But I can’t do it tonight.”

I didn’t reply—couldn’t reply rather—because he’d just slipped his finger inside my underwear and was now running it up and down my slit in a slow, torturous, teasing manner.

“I can feel you’re already wet for me.” he continued, and bit my ear lobe gently. “Mm, I love how easily I can make you wet. Who makes you this wet, baby?”

“Harry—” I gasped softly, arching my back as his finger circle my clit.

“Who?” he pressed on, applying slight pressure on the small nub.

“You—you do.” I said quietly, as I bucked my hips into his hand. “You make me so wet, Harry.”

He smiled, satisfied. He planted a kiss on my lips, before moving down to my neck. He wrenched up my tank top to reveal my breasts, and licked between them slowly, before moving further down to my stomach. He pulled down my shorts and underwear and tossed them behind him, before taking my leg and placing it on his shoulder. He kissed my inner thighs softly and I bit my lip in anticipation of what was about to come. His lips inched closer and closer to where I needed him the most. He finally reached, and licked my slit slowly.

“Did I ever tell you how good you taste?” he asked softly.

His tongue flicked my clit as he entered one finger inside my core, twisting and turning it. I bit my lip harder, trying to hold back my moans. I wanted to moan loudly, wanted to scream, but dad and Linda sleeping right under the room prevented me from doing so.

Harry slowly proceeded to add another finger, moving both in and out at a steady pace, all the while sucking on my clit, and sometimes drawing figure eights on it. My back arched of the bed and I thrusted my hips into his mouth as I rushed towards my release. I tugged at his soft curls and he moaned into my pussy, and that pushed me over the edge. My mouth fell open as I struggled to hold back moans (a soft one still managed to escape) as I came, grabbing onto his hair for dear life and closing my thighs around his face.

I fell back onto the bed as Harry came up for air, wiping his mouth.

“How was that?” he whispered, smirking.

“Amazing,” I breathed.

“Next time, I’m going to make you scream so loud…” he promised. “Are you going to kick me out now?”

I sat up on the bed, still breathing hard. I looked at the watch. 1: 25 am. I looked at Harry and shook my head. I grabbed my underwear and shorts and put them on before turning to Harry.

“You can stay for some time. I can’t sleep either.” I shrugged, and he smiled and we sat down on the bed. We both lay on our backs, staring up at the ceiling.

“So,” he asked me after a while of silence. “What’s the deal with Linda? Why do you hate her so much?”

“She’s a bitch.” I rolled my eyes. “Dad’s changed since she’s come. I know she’s only with him for the money. She doesn’t love him.”

“How can you be sure?” Harry asked me.

“I can see it.” I shrugged. “She doesn’t love him like my mother loved him. She tries to rule his life and influence his decisions. Dad hasn’t been the same since he’s met her.”

“You haven’t been the same either.” Harry pointed out. “We may not have known each other personally, but I knew how good you were before.”

“Are you saying I’m a bad person?” I asked, slightly hurt.

“No,” Harry said quickly. “I meant good, like—a good kid. Like, you always did you homework—hell, you were one of those kids who reminded teachers there was homework. Your grades were amazing and you always looked so…happy. But then—”

“—then my mum died.” I said, slightly bitterly.

I felt Harry place his large, warm hand on mine. “Sorry,” he muttered. “How, though?”

“Accident.” I told him. I sat up, sighing. “She was coming back from work. I’d just won a debate competition and she was going to take me out for ice cream as a treat.” I chuckled at the memory. “But…she never made it. And I waited…but she never came. And when they called us up to tell us what had happened, I didn’t believe it. Till I…” I struggled to keep my voice steady. “I saw her body. In the morgue. I….I just—”

“Hey,” Harry said softly, placing his hand on my back. He’d sat up too. “We don’t have to talk about it. Sorry I asked.”

I nodded, taking deep breaths to calm myself. The memory still hurt to think about. I looked over at Harry. How strange was this? I’d never shared this with anyone—in detail, at least. Not even Lexi. Dylan was out of the question, he wasn’t a particularly good listener. Plus, I’d never felt too comfortable to talk about how I felt with either of them. There was no way I was talking about it to Dad. And Linda—right.

“It’s okay.” I mumbled, looking back down. Harry removed his hand quickly, and cleared his throat.

“So…” he asked, to break the awkwardness that had suddenly settled in. “How many times did Dylan sneak into your room?”

I chuckled. “Actually,” I said, “you’re the first guy.”

Harry’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Dylan loved it when we got physical.” I recalled. “But…he would never make an effort—not such a big one anyway. He liked me to go over to his house, and we did it during parties sometimes. But he never sneaked in…”

“Wow,” Harry murmured. “What’s with you and Dylan? Are you guys…?”

“We’re over.” I said. “He cheated. Honestly, I’m not mad at him or anything. In fact….I sort of don’t care. But this sort of made me realize that maybe I’m not meant to be in a relationship. Like, a serious one.”

“Why?” Harry asked me.

“If I really loved—or even liked—Dylan, I would care. I would care if he cheated, I would care if he never sneaked in, I would care if he didn’t call me, didn’t buy me gifts or made me feel special. But I didn’t. It was about the physical things for me too, I think.”

“Maybe you haven’t found the right guy yet.” Harry suggested.

I laughed softly. “The right guy.” I repeated. “That’s all bullshit. There’s nothing like a “right” guy or “wrong” guy. Guys are guys, some are just nicer than the rest.”

Harry laughed. “That’s your take on it.”

“What’s yours?”

“I think there’s someone for everyone out there.” he said. “There’s the person who you think is right for you, and then…” he looked at me, “then there’s the person who is actually right for you. You’ll find them eventually, when you’r done with all the false alarms first. And when you do find that person…it’s unlike any other feeling.”

I stared at him, as I listened to everything he said. “Have you…found someone like that?” I asked him.

He shook his head, still looking at me. “Not yet. You?”

“Even if I believe in these things…” I said, “no.”

“Hmmm.” Harry said thoughtfully.

We continued to look at each other, before realizing how awkward it was. I looked down hurriedly, and he looked away.

“Well—” he said, “you know…I should—”

“Yeah,” I nodded, slightly relieved, but disappointed at the same time. “It’s late and—”

“Your parents—”

“That’s right—so I’ll—?”

“Yeah, in school—” I nodded.

Harry got up and walked back to the window. He turned to me. “Goodnight, Harper.”

“Goodnight.” I said.

He climbed onto the window sill, but before jumping onto the tree, he turned to look at me. “Oh, and,” he said, “by the way—you’re not bad.”

“What?” I asked, confused.

“You’re not a bad person.” he said. “You’re a good person, a very good person. And don’t….you know, let anyone tell you otherwise.”

I blushed, delighted at his words. “Thank you, Harry.” I said, glad it was dark so he couldn’t see the rosy colour my cheeks had turned.

“Sure,” he mumbled. “Erm, anyway, bye.”

“Bye.” I said, as I watched him hop onto the branch of the tree and help himself down from there. He looked up one final time to wave at me, before disappearing into the night, leaving me standing at the window, feeling slightly confused.

About what though, I didn’t know.

Notes