In This Lifetime-- Ch. 4
There’s a heavy weight holding me down when I wake up the next morning. For a moment, I come close to panicking: it’s like a nightmare has come to life until I realize that the weight is warm, breathing, and smells alarmingly like my best friend. In a rush of sensation, I recognize the way Harry’s skin feels against mine and the curls that aren’t mine cascading over my shoulder. It takes a few seconds for me to make sense of why I’m in Harry’s bed but then last night’s activities slowly seep into my mind.
In the spirit of preserving what I considered to be a wonderful friendship, I had always tried to not imagine what sex with Harry would be like. It would only make me forlorn and it would read on my face like a novel. Harry’s intuitiveness tended to have horrible timing on my end, so there’s no way I could have escaped without an explanation. My convictions hadn’t always worked, though. Late at night, when rainstorms or racing thoughts were keeping me awake, my mind would wander and I would think about what things would be like if Harry saw in me what I saw in him. The way our bodies would move together and the way I would feel.
Never in my midnight wonderings had I considered that I might feel guilty. In my idyllic thoughts, I had imagined that things would have just clicked together. That Harry would have realized that he was in love with me before we even got as far as taking off my pants. That it would be slow, sensual sex full of understanding about the strong feelings between us. I had imagined feeling treasured in a way I had never experienced before.
That was about as far from reality as I could get and part of me felt like a naive thirteen year old who had just discovered smut and was reading it with a blush on her face in the darkness of the computer room after everyone had gone to sleep. To make it worse, I couldn’t shake the uneasiness about Harry’s current mental state. He has been improving, but he’s still not in what I’d consider a good state of mind. My dreams unconventionally coming true or not, I felt like I had taken advantage of him.
And it was definitely hard to not attach emotions to what happened when he had all but forced me to sleep in the same bed as him last night. Waking up with him all over me wasn’t helping anything, either. The conflicting feelings of guilt over potentially taking advantage of him but also really enjoying having him this close to me were enough to make me seasick.
It was going to have to come to an end soon, though. I needed to get up and ready for work. Glancing at the clock, I knew I had overslept by about fifteen minutes in the absence of my alarm. I should be able to get ready on time if I hurried, especially since I had showered yesterday, but that all hinged on me getting out from under Harry’s lightly snoring body.
Just as I’m trying to figure out how the hell I’m going to shift him off of me so I can get ready for work, he rolls onto his back of his own volition, leaving me free and feeling oddly empty. “Did you oversleep?” he asks groggily, his voice husky with sleep and almost enough to keep me from rolling out of bed– almost.