093

                                    

                                          
"Home should be an anchor, a port in a storm, a refuge, a happy place in which to dwell, a place where we are loved and where we can love." —Marvin J. Ashton
I've always felt insecure about my ears.
Harry and I sit on the couch at home together. He's doing something on his computer, and I'm reading a book that I plucked off his bookshelf earlier today.
I ask him, "Is my left ear bigger than my right?"
"Are you serious?" he says as he looks up at me, staring at me like I'm insane for asking such a thing.
"Yes," I say as I turn to face him. "I swear they're uneven."
He looks at me with amusement dancing in his eyes. He looks really cute today, he has a black bandana tied around his forehead, pushing his curls back and out of his face. He partially closes his laptop, giving me his full attention.
He says, "Alright, let me see the right."
I turn my head so he can look at my right ear. He takes a few moments to observe it, and I really hope I don't have earwax showing in my ear or something.
He says, "Okay, now the left."
I turn my head so he can see my left ear this time.
"Right again," he says.
I turn my head.
He says, "Hmm, let me see the left again."
I turn.
"Right."
I turn.
"Left."
I turn.
"Right."
I turn to face him, glaring at him as I realize what he's doing. I throw a pillow at him and say, "Harry!"
He's laughing, his nose crinkling, and his dimples showing. The smile on his face makes all of my embarrassment worth it. I want to freeze this moment and capture it forever.
He says, "I think your ears are perfectly normal."
I shrug, not feeling very convinced since he clearly didn't take this seriously at all. I can't keep the small smile from spreading over my face as he laughs to himself again. I pick my book back up, but the words aren't coming into focus.
The apartment smells like vanilla again. Since he's been back, he's been lighting his candles again, making the place smell good. I can't smell vanilla now without thinking of him. Or mint. Or honey.
Aaron always smelled like body odor.
I try reading my book, but I keep rereading the same line over and over again, still unable to comprehend what it's saying. My mind is all over the place today, mostly occupied by Harry being so close to me.
It's been four days since we spent the night in the hotel, and we've respected the physical boundary between us since then. Harry, however, has been driving me crazy with his flirtatious demeanor.
"You look cute when you do that," he says, bringing my attention away from the book and back to him, even though it never really left him. He has a playful grin on his face.
I say, "Do what?"
"Exist."
I bite my lip as a grin spreads across my face, and I feel my cheeks tint. I shake my head at him, and he smirks at me and my flustering. It's so easy for him to get a reaction out of me.