PART 12... fanficparker

Harrison groaned at the noise coming from outside. His eyes were still closed and he could easily enjoy sleeping for at least two more hours. He groaned again and tried to shove the covers up to cover his ears but he failed to drag the material. He slowly opened his eyes and definitely didn't regret the sight. Your lips were slightly parted, eyes closed, hairs falling over your face and the pillow, your chest slowly rising and falling under soft snores. He wondered if you were that sleeping beauty he read stories of. Sleeping beauty that needed just a kiss to wake up. Not just a kiss... The true lover's kiss.

And Harrison told himself that he, without any doubt, didn't fall into the category of that true lover. But he did already kiss you. God, it was so rushed and dry, worse than a mouth to mouth. He has probably ruined his first impression as a kisser- Terrible kisser. A non-consensual, dry, bad, devoid of all emotions except hurry and anxiety kiss.

Will she give me a second chance? It's in the contract after all. I can kiss her on the thirteenth day at the party. Gosh, Harrison, get a grip! Stop looking at her. She must not want you to watch her like that. He closed his eyes and let his body relax beside yours, so close, so warm, so soft. Your soft fingertips that touched the skin of his bareback felt burning on his skin, yet soothing. Your legs that were wrapped around his, felt nice. Your warm breath that fanned over his neck, felt amazing. And he cursed himself for feeling this way.

Surely, Karma is a bitch. Because if it was any less than a bitch it won't let his heart riot in his chest this hopelessly... yet full of desire. He shouldn't have allowed you to cuddle with him in the first place. But he was also enjoying this closeness. Ugh! He needs at least a couple of years to figure out his conflicting emotions. But for the time being, he decided to go with- 'I should... probably tell my stupid weird whatever I am feeling in the pit of my stomach... desire as the English language names it... to go fuck off!'

"Fuck off!"

He heard the words of his brain in action- in a real human voice. But that voice didn't belong to him. Suddenly, he remembered the reason why he was disturbed from his peaceful sleep in the first place- The noise. It wasn't just noise, it was the voice of two people arguing.

His eyes fluttered open yet again, ears budged to hear, brain alert to concentrate. He recognised the two distinguishable voices. They belonged to your parents. He flinched on the realisation. The argument seemed serious to him. His movements made you whimper, while you unconsciously pulled his body even closer, not wanting to let go off your sleep just yet. He found it smarter to wake you up before thinking anything about the situation taking place outside the bedroom.

"Y/n... Y/n," he whispered directly into your ear. His breath tickled on the spot just below your ear, making you squirm. He decided to take the matter in his own hands but the way you were holding him, didn't allow him to move. He shook your shoulders repeating your name in a proper amplitude and finally, you decided to slap his chest and open your eyes. His confused, probably even worried frosty blue eyes met your oblivious ones.

"Is it morning yet?" You asked rubbing your eyes, instantly accompanied by a yawn. Of course, it was morning... or even the afternoon. We both slept after six! Harrison wanted to tell but it didn't seem an appropriate thing to talk about right now.

"Ssh..." He shushed you, making you even more perplexed.

"What?" You asked, sleep slowly vanishing away.

"Hear. Your mum and dad..."

Your body stiffened as you finally heard the voice coming from outside the door. You jumped and untangled your limbs from Harrison's. You hurriedly tried to get out of the bed but your left leg stuck in the covers. You were about to fall down facing front but he held your waist and saved your... maybe... nose from getting broken. In a swift motion, he threw the covers away and made the way out of the bed. You opened the door slightly and peeped outside, he did the same. Unable to see anything you pushed the door wider and stepped out while Harrison rushed to throw a t-shirt over his torso, joining you shortly outside. Both of you could make out that your parents were in the kitchen, the sounds of yelling were clearly audible and you both decided to hear it in secrecy.

In about ten minutes you figured out the reason behind the argument. Your stomach dropped pathetically. The reason was so embarrassing. So... so... so... embarrassing, especially in front of an outsider. God, at least not Harrison! You tried to keep your wobbly legs firm beneath your trunk. You had already cried in front of him, just hours ago and now again. No shit. Holding your breath, you tried your best to not let the tears not well up or at least pour down in case Plan A fails. But all you felt were Harrison's arms circling around your waist. He pulled you closer, your back pressed against his chest as he dragged you back into the room. He left you to latch the door and you fell down on the floor, sitting on your knees, sobbing. Plan B failed too.

"Hey hey... It's okay!" Harrison rushed and crouched down beside you. But you knew he was just trying to be nice.

"Oh god. What you must be thinking about my family, about me." You said sinking down more, hiding your face in your palms. "You heard them, Harrison. He thinks she gives more attention to his friend than him and---"

"I am not judging you Y/n, neither your family. It's fine. It happens, it's normal." He slowly shifted closer to you and removed your hands from your face, holding them in his bigger ones. It was like his strategy. He did the exact same before. But this time things weren't that personal.

"But... at least families keep things inside, and not reveal it to-- to--"

"Strangers?" He quirked an eyebrow, interrupting you, making you pause your sobs and look up at him even more embarrassed.

"I... ah---"

"Don't overthink Y/n. It's fine. I said I don't mind. They'll be okay and you should never be bothered about what others think." He explained calmly. And you did start to understand.

"Right... I don't know what's happening to me since morning. Breaking down at everything. I guess it's because of my periods." You chuckled, breath slowly calming down.

"You need something to eat?" He smiled rubbing the back of your hands with his thumbs.

"Maybe ice-cream," You said slowly looking properly at his eyes and they seemed to stare back at you.

How can someone's eyes be so clear? His irises flicked down to your lips, your heart thudded inside your chest. You instantly pulled away your hands from his grip looking to the other side, pretending to wipe out the already dried tears on your cheeks. When your heartbeat was back to normal you looked back at him again.

"It will settle down. Don't worry." He reassured with a polite smile. A smile that made you wonder- if him looking at your lips was your mere imagination.

You nodded.

"So... Ice-cream?"

"Yeah..."

***

Time was ticking away. Days were moving ahead. It was already Day Seven of the fake dating agreement. Not even a week left and everything will be over. A weird feeling filled your chest... Hollowness. He felt you squirming beside him. He turned his head from the night sky to look at you, your face was illuminating under the moonlight while you were lost in your thoughts, staring at the stars.

You both were lying on the cool grass of the park you came to pass time and the time did pass, too fast for his liking. The moon and stars covered the sky as you both were enjoying the quiet until he observed your anxious behaviour.

"You take too much tension about your career. Let yourself loose," He remarked, making you swirl your neck to look at him, faces barely five inches apart.

Your mouth twitched, "I wasn't thinking about---"

"How many years are you in the industry?" He asked. His voice was way too soothing against the bubbling anxiety that was boiling inside your abdomen. You decided to carry on with his concern. And honestly, you did worry a lot about your career, just not at the current moment.

"Six," You answered.

"How many firms you send your designs to for selection each month?" He asked.

"Umm... Five-six a month I guess," You answered, swinging your head to the sides.

"What?!" His voice was way louder and he jumped to sit up. Confusion arose in you seeing his actions.

"What? What?" You asked.

"Just six? Are you kidding me?" He said as if shocked. Your brows lifted.

"So how many am I supposed to apply for?" You asked curiously.

"At least, one hundred every month!"

"What?!" You almost yelled.

"Yes. Exactly. You need to apply for at least one hundred rejections a month. That's the mantra for success!" He sounded confident and excited.

"One-hundred? There are only thirty days a month." You were confused.

"Yeah but there are twenty-four hours each day." He shifted to rest his head on his elbow to look at you better, his curls fell on his forehead with the movement.

"How is---"

"It is possible and you need to do it. You literally have to send the same e-mail to all the one hundred organisations. You'll also receive some great valuable feedback and you'll improve in a great way. It's easy. I did it." He paused and waited for your response but all you did was stare at him, mesmerised by his words. He continued, "And now this one is very important..."

You lifted your head, looking forward to his upcoming words.

"You should never look down at yourself if you see anyone successful or talented or anything. Any time you feel jealous of someone, you should kill that feeling by giving that person the best of compliments. It's very important to not look down or envy anyone in this career. You understand, right?"

You nodded.

"Words Y/n?"

"You sound like a teacher. Too demanding." You complained and he couldn't help but laugh.

"Yeah, Harrison I understand. Thanks," You said when he stopped laughing. His advice was actually inspiring, even a new dress idea emerged in your head, maybe you'll try drawing it later on your tablet.

"No need to thanks. We are already friends," He shrugged off, waving his hand.

"Are we?"

He was about to laugh again but noticed your serious expressions.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"Friends share stuff. It's just me telling about myself all the time. What do I know about you? Did you tell me anything?" You looked into his eyes with a steady gaze. He instantly shifted his gaze to the other side.

"Look, you are still hiding. It's fine, really but..." You trailed off and instead reached for his hand.

He let you trace your fingers on the back of his hand and on his forehead. It was a soothing experience indeed but what wasn't soothing were the emotions that your face conveyed. Harrison could see the glint of disapproval and disappointment in your e/c eyes. He felt dishonest. The feeling was pretty terrible for him. You removed your hand and he sighed. Your eyebrow twitched at his reaction making him feel even more vulnerable under your gaze.

"All your smiles are fake Harrison, isn't it?" It was indeed a very loaded question.

"Not all."

"So... some are?" You sat up and slid closer to his sitting figure.

"Everyone---"

"No more philosophy Harrison. You have bad anxiety. Accept it."

He exhaled looking down for a minute and then back at you, your gaze hasn't softened at all.

"Yeah," He admitted slowly, his breath was shaky. Harrison could see a little hesitation in you but you slid even closer to him till your shoulders bumped with his. Your arm snaked around his shoulders and gently you pulled his head to rest on your shoulder. His heart sputtered as your hand travelled to his hairs, your fingers slowly combing through the curly blonde strands. A little sigh escaped your lips and he exhaled deeply. It was the breath he didn't even realise he was holding- a breath you had unknowingly taken away. The burning sensation in his eyes made him close them. For minutes there was absolute silence. His heart squirmed weirdly every time your fingers untangled his curls.

"...So, you are like one of those people who guide others in their problems but never themselves." You said. It wasn't a witty remark, it was a supportive, understanding statement.

"Guess so," He whispered, enjoying the feeling of his hairs rolling around your fingers. You hummed pausing the ministrations. You rather shifted on your lap. He could tell you were about to lift his head off your shoulders and look at his face.

"Don't... look at my face," He said making your body go still.

"Are you--- are you crying?"

He could hear the doubt and worry in your voice.

"No... but I will if you'll look at my face..." He was honest.

"Please play with my hair. Please," He pleaded in a little bit screechy voice. You complied. His body slowly relaxed under your touch.

"You are pretty fucked up." You said and he could feel a little smile on your lips.

"Aren't we all a little fucked up?"

"Guess so..."

***

"What are you going to wear to your friend's party? What was his name again?" You asked sipping through the orange juice sitting on the little breakfast nook on the outside of the little cafe. A big jute cap helping your face with the intense sunlight. Fresh day. Fresh mood.

"Jerry. It's his wedding reception. He didn't have a formal wedding. He likes saving money," Harrison grinned scrapping his pastry with a fork.

"He's smart." You remarked, "But what 'you gonna wear?"

Harrison paused the pastry piece before it touched his lips.

"It's a simple black suit. Nothing special," He shrugged, finally putting the pastry in his mouth.

"I don't have any fancy clothes here. We'll have to go shopping."

"Today?" He asked surprised, keeping his finished glass of juice aside.

"Not even a week is left Haz... Hey, can I call you Haz? I heard a lot of your co-artists calling you by this name. Is it your nickname?" You straightened your back against the chair, your voice radiating enthusiasm.

"Yeah, I'll like that actually." He smiled but internally the bitter part of your sentence had captured his consciousness. A weird feeling rushed through his chest, filling the cavity with hollowness.

Not even a week is left...

Not even a week is left...

Not even a week is left...

Any feedback guys??? Say something, please. Is anyone still reading this?

Words count: 2.5k
Date published: 18 Mar'2020