"Is she your girlfriend?"

That's the first thing I hear when I walk out of the bathroom, the low rumble of the laundromat not doing a very good job of masking the words.

The question comes from Charlie, the little boy who's here with his mom washing clothes. I can tell it's him without even having to see the person asking the question. His sweet high pitched voice is distinct compared to the rest of the people who occupy the building at the moment. So I don't have to think too much about it. He didn't ask it very loudly but it quickly catches my attention.

I peek my head around the corner, peering from behind the wall to see Harry and Charlie sitting with their backs to me on a set of chairs. Harry's shoulders pull his white t-shirt tightly around his back, which rises up and down slowly with each breath. Charlie stares up at him, the raincoat he's wearing nearly two sizes too big, and waits for Harry's answer. Even though I've only heard a short snippet of the conversation I already have a clear interest in it. So I stop in my tracks, and stay hidden behind the wall near the bathroom.

Charlie was actually the one who interrupted our kiss on the floor. The small whispered "ew" that came from his mouth was the thing that took my attention away from Harry's. My eyes darted up and Harry leaned his head back to look at him upside down, and sure enough there was Charlie, the six year old boy, trying to figure out what we were doing on the floor.

After Harry and I scrambled slightly, straightening ourselves and standing up, Harry introduced himself to Charlie, sticking his hand out in front of him. Charlie took Harry's hand in his and stared straight at us telling us his name. His r sounded more like a w so it came out as "Chaw-ie", but we understood nonetheless.

I introduced myself to him as well and within seconds Harry and I had a new friend. Charlie quickly forgot the scene he walked into, not bothering to mention the whole kissing thing again, and instead was much more interested in our stolen laundry basket. He asked if he could have a ride and Harry told him yes, but on one condition, which Charlie didn't hesitate to agree to.

Not long after Charlie was struggling to push Harry across the room in the laundry basket, Harry's limbs hanging out the sides as he tried to squeeze in. Harry told Charlie he could have a turn if he successfully pushed him across the room. This was a difficult task considering how small Charlie is, but he was determined. After gaining a little momentum he was successful, which Harry was extremely impressed with.

I might have also helped him a little, but that's a secret between me and Charlie.

"Not officially so," I hear Harry's voice. "I haven't asked her."

"But do you wanna?" Charlie moves to his knees, scooting closer to Harry. His curiosity is extremely representative of mine at the moment, clearly anxious for the answer, and my heart begins to beat faster as I wait.

"Hmm," Harry hums and I feel my stomach do nearly a thousand flips. I'm nervous for what he's about to say and unsure if it will be what I want to hear or not. "Absolutely," he nods, smiling wider. "Yes. I would love if she was my girlfriend. I like who I am around her."

I gasp, but quickly cover my mouth, hoping I managed to do it in time so they don't realize I'm standing a few feet away. It seems to work because they don't turn around or show any other signs of realizing someone is listening in, which I'm thankful for. I'm not at all condoning snooping, in most cases it only leads to bad things, but I decide to make an exception in this case. I can't simply pretend I didn't hear anything and move on without wanting to know a little more.

Harry's honesty is so incredible to hear. The fact that it didn't take him that long to answer makes it even more incredible. It wasn't something he had to debate in his head, or really weigh out the pros and cons, he answered simply and straight to the point. Even though he isn't talking to me about it, but instead a six year old boy we've known for an hour, it makes my heart swell up to the point where I'm actually concerned it might explode. Actually, I think the fact the he is talking to a six year old boy about it makes it even better.

I have to fight back the squeals that want to escape from my mouth, which is tricky because I feel extremely happy at the moment. But I manage to refocus my attention on their conversation, rather than getting too wrapped up in celebrating in my head.

"Then why don't you ask her?" Charlie shakes his head at him, not understanding why it can't be that simple. "Are you scared, Harry?"

"No," Harry's quick to respond, his eyes widening at Charlie's teasing tone. "I'm not scared. We're just at a funny place in our lives right now, I guess. Not that it should really matter... these things rarely make sense, they just happen. But no, I'm not scared."

I find it funny that Harry would bring up such a serious aspect of this to Charlie. He's only six. He surely doesn't understand the different complications playing into this. But that doesn't seem to matter because Charlie just nods his head, patting Harry's shoulder like he knows exactly what he's going through, just like he's been there before.

Now I don't know Charlie well but I doubt he's had any relationship that's extended outside the playground at school, so I find it hilarious to watch.

"Besides," Harry smiles as Charlie pats his back. "Maybe I'm waiting for her to ask me."

Charlie gasps, much like I did a few minutes earlier, but he doesn't cover his mouth like I did. And instead his disbelief is clear all over his face, not even attempting to hide it.

"Girls can do that?" he questions, almost yelling to Harry. "I didn't know girls could ask that."

"Of course, little man," Harry doesn't hesitate, scruffing up Charlie's hair with his hand. I can tell he's fighting back laughter, and from my view of the side of his face I can see his smile widen. "Girls can do a lot of things. They can do anything boys can do... sometimes even better, actually half the time they do it better."

"Girls are gross," Charlie scrunches his nose, shaking his head at Harry's words.

"I disagree, bud," Harry smiles again. "Someday I'm sure you'll feel the same way."

"Greta's nice though," Charlie nods, thinking about it. I find myself smiling again from his pronunciation of my name sounding more like "Gweta," because it sounds extremely adorable coming from him. "Girls I know aren't that nice."

"She is nice, huh?"

"Well, are you going to ask her then?" Charlie persistence doesn't let up, only pressing Harry further.

Inside my head I'm cheering the kid on, happy that he's asking so many questions that I'm keeping inside, because I know now would not be the time to barge out from behind the wall demanding to know the answers. His lack of a filter is easily one of my favorite things about him. Charlie doesn't hold in his question or thoughts, letting them out without much concern, which reminds me a lot of Harry.

Charlie also hasn't grasped to concept of personal space, his chin resting on Harry's shoulder as he bats his eyes lashes while looking up, waiting for him to answer. He's relying on Harry to support his body weight, leaning on his knees with his yellow rain boots kicked up behind him. Harry doesn't seem to mind the invasion though, still smiling as he takes in Charlie's position.

"You know," Harry laughs. "I'm starting to think you're the one who wants to do the asking. Do you have a crush on her, Charlie?"

I watch as Charlie's eyes grow wide and his cheeks redden from embarrassment. It's like Harry's caught him red handed and Charlie is awful at bluffing, not that I can blame him, he's only six.

"Of course not," Charlie tries to shrug it off, moving back so he's no longer leaning on Harry. Even though it's difficult to see Charlie's expression it's clear that he's not revealing everything, and his denial isn't fully sincere.

"I don't believe that for a second," Harry teases him, shaking his head as he crosses his arms in front of his chest. "What happened to girls being a gross, hmm? You think differently of Greta?"

Charlie squirms a little, readjusting himself in the seat next to Harry. I notice Harry elbow him a few times, egging him on like he already knows the answer. I almost want to tell Harry to stop hassling the poor kid but I also know Harry he wouldn't push it too far. And since I can't see Charlie's face he could very well be fine with the entire thing.

"She is pretty," Charlie admits quietly. I have to strain my neck a little more around the corner to hear him. "And I like her laugh."

"She does have a nice laugh," Harry nods, agreeing with him. "It's infectious. Everything feels a little better when she laughs."

"Infectious?" Charlie asks with his eyebrows pressed together, confused by the larger word.

Harry doesn't answer right away, looking forward. I can't see his face because his back is still turned to me but I have a feeling he's thinking hard about something. He isn't one to ignore a question but there are times that he gets lost in his own thoughts, like he goes into some deep realm in his mind before he can answer.

"Infectious," Harry smiles as he turns back to Charlie. "In this case it means, like you can't help but laugh or smile too. It also can be used when talking about a disease, or being sick. Like have you ever gotten a cold or the flu?"

Charlie nods quickly.

"Well, the reason you got sick in the first place was because it was infectious... someone else gave it to you." Harry continues to explain and Charlie starts to scowl as he begins to understand. "But it can be used in a figurative sense... like Greta gave me a smile."

"See, I told you girls are gross," Charlie's tone is dead serious, like Harry just gave him the perfect example for his already stated conclusion.

"If that's how you see it, I'll just keep her for myself," Harry sticks his tongue out at Charlie, still smiling. I feel my heart my swell up again and I don't think I could smile any bigger if I wanted to, my cheeks already sore. "I think she likes me better anyways, did you see her kissing me?"

If I was sitting next to Harry right now I'd probably punch him in the arm for saying this to a six year old. Charlie does a good enough job of this though, letting out a long and loud "ewwww" once more. I hear Harry snort, laughter quickly following, and I decide that his laughter is infectious too.

I hear a door close behind me, causing me to jump and turn quickly from my spot hidden from the rest of the room of the laundromat. When I turn, my eyes meet a man's who gives me a curious look in return, obviously unsure of why I look so suspicious. I smile at him briefly, fidgeting with my hands as he stays frozen in place, raising his eyebrows. After a few seconds of awkward silence between me and the man who just walked out of the bathroom, I turn around quickly, leaving my hiding spot and heading over to Harry and Charlie.

I sit down next to Harry without saying a word, staring forward. I feel both of them turn their heads to me, their eyes staring at the side of my face but I don't budge and continue to look at the row of washers in front of me. I didn't allow myself to come up with a plan on how to handle all this new information and face Harry, and now it's making it difficult to function like a normal human being.

Look, I know this entire situation is strange... like our whole friendship has consisted of me running away and you doing whatever you're doing, but I like you a lot. And I just overheard you saying that you'd like it if I was your girlfriend. Well, just saying... I have no problem with that.

If you really want me to be the one to ask, I'll do it... wait, who am I kidding? I can't even get myself to speak a coherent thought right now.

Can I kiss you right now? Because I really want to... except there's a kid behind you with wide eyes and a bowl shaped haircut, staring at me who's sort of ruining the mood.

But... I still want to kiss you.

I decide every single one of these thoughts would not turn out well if I let them out of my brain so instead I search the rest of my mind for something else to say. It proves difficult because I can't stop thinking about Harry's lips but thankfully for all of us he breaks the slightly tense situation I'm putting us in.

"Hey, sweet girl," he smiles at me, putting his arm around my shoulders and pulling me into him. It takes me about .05 seconds to forget the slight awkwardness in the air I'm causing, because when I smell Harry against his shirt I realize it doesn't matter anyway. "You okay?"

"Yeah," I nod with my head pressed into his chest because if anything I'm better than okay.

The conversation between Harry and Charlie is still ringing in my mind and it's impossible not to be giddy with happiness when thinking about it, even if I'm unsure how to approach it now.

"Lovely," he smiles again. "Hey, what do you think? Wouldn't Charlie make a wonderful boyfriend?"

I'm not entirely sure what to answer when he asks this. Not only do I find it difficult to judge Charlie's potential in this because he's six, but my lack of boyfriends over the years only gives me so much to judge off of. I lean past Harry to look at Charlie, who is smiling back at me nervously, unable to look in my eyes. He's easily one of the cutest kids I've ever met and it doesn't take me long to come to a conclusion.

"Definitely," I nod my head and Charlie beams. "Someone is going to be extremely lucky to have him someday."

"I agree," Harry adds. "But you see, Charlie here thinks girls are gross."

"Do not!" Charlie interrupts Harry before he can continue anymore, moving to his knees again to cover Harry's mouth with his hand.

Harry tries to keep talking but it just comes out as a muffled jumble of words as Charlie keeps his hand over Harry's mouth, laughing loudly. I nod my head at Harry, pretending I understand every mumbled word and he just shrugs, eventually giving up.

"It's okay, Charlie," I turn my attention back to him. "There is no rush when it comes to something like that, enjoy your youth, kid. Also, a word of advice... I wouldn't listen to a single thing that Harry says about girls, he has no idea what he's talking about."

Harry puffs out air, clearly not falling for my comment, and Charlie laughs even harder.

"Really?" Harry raises his eyebrows at me, knowing better than to believe me. It's clear that this isn't even remotely true.

"He has no clue at all," I nod again, looking at Charlie. I try to be as convincing as possible, but it's extremely difficult as I feel Harry's glare on me, knowing I'm making everything up.

"See!" Charlie yells, shaking Harry's shoulder. "She does like me better."

Harry turns to face me and rolls his eyes dramatically, shaking his head like he knows better. Then he turns back to Charlie and whispers something in his ear. I watch Charlie's face as he listens to whatever Harry's saying. He nods his head slowly, thinking deeply about it.

He whispers something back to Harry. It's hushed and quick, and even though I try really hard to hear what is being said I find it impossible. They are being extremely careful to be secretive, barely a sound coming out their mouth, and after a few other exchanges of whispers they finally turn to me, smiling suspiciously.

"So, we came up with a game," Harry says calmly. His arm is resting on the back of my seat and I feel him gently playing with the hair in my ponytail as he speaks.

"A game?" I ask slowly, feeling nervous from their whispers and their trouble making grins.

"Yes," Harry nods. "Charlie, would you care to explain."

Charlie says yes and stands up from his seat, walking over so he's in front of me. In the short distance his rain boots squeak loudly with each step, drawing out the wait for the explanation. When he stops, he breathes in deeply, lacing his fingers together like he's prepared for an important speech.

"You are the judge," he begins, talking quickly. "Harry and I both take a turn kissing your cheek and then... wait," he turns back to Harry. "What happens when you win?"

Harry laughs quietly, shaking his head before finishing the rules of the game.

"After you decide who the better kisser is, the loser has to push the winner around the laundromat in the laundry basket five times."

"I thought you said ten times!" Charlie yells to Harry.

"Right, sorry," he smiles. "Ten times."

"But Harry said you have to agree to it," Charlie continues. "He said it doesn't count unless you say it's okay... Can we play?"

I hesitate for a moment, trying to decide if this is a good idea or not. Charlie stares up at me, with wide eyes, practically begging me to say yes. I look back over to Harry for a moment and he raises his eyebrows at me, crossing his hands in front of his of chest as he waits for my response.

"Only cheek kisses?"

"Yes, this is extremely innocent," Harry nods. "One kiss, one cheek, one winner... you cannot say it's a tie."

"And you want to do this, Charlie?" I ask wanting to make sure we're not corrupting the poor child. He jumps up and down as he nods, clearly determined to win for the sake of the laundry basket ride.

"Okay," I agree to it. "Who's first?"

Charlie raises his hand high, jumping up again. I laugh, agreeing to it and he moves to sit in the seat next to me. He crawls up, nearly falling over in the process and seconds later I can feel his breath on the side of my face, his hands on my shoulder. He pauses for a moment, giggling to himself and I think about how much confidence this kid has. I doubt I'd ever agree to something like this if I was in his shoes, but then again the laundry basket ride is extremely tempting.

Before I have a chance to do anything else, Charlie plants a slobbery kiss on my right cheek. It's quick and wet, but still very sweet.

"Quality job, Charlie," Harry cheers him on, reaching over me to give a high five.

Charlie high fives him enthusiastically, looking extremely proud of himself and then jumps down from the seat next to me.

I turn to Harry for a moment, looking into his eyes and he smiles back at me. I feel disappointed for a second that all I'm going to get from him is a cheek kiss. But then I think about how much of a disadvantage that would put Charlie at, because there is no way he would be kissing me where I want Harry to, for many reasons.

I hear Charlie say something to Harry, telling him to hurry up and next thing I know Harry's large hands are on either side of my face, pulling me closer to him. He kisses my left cheek hard, pressing his lips into my skin quickly. It isn't slobbery like Charlie's was, and it's much more forceful. And I find it difficult to understand how such a simple thing like a kiss on the cheek manages to send shivers down my spine.

Harry's kiss lasts a little longer than Charlie's did, and I feel him breathe heavily before he pulls away, but it's still a quick one, leaving me feeling a little frazzled.

"Who won? Who won?" Charlie's in front of me again, dancing around.

I look off to the side, tapping my chin as I pretend to think about the answer. I already know who won, I knew before we even started the game, but I still have to pretend like it was a competition in the first place.

"Hmm," I hum, and Charlie squeals, unable to contain his excitement for my decision. "Charlie, obviously. Charlie is the winner, hands down."

"Yes!" he screams, jumping and doing a spin in the air. "I beat you, Harry!"

"You sure did," he responds quickly, trying to act disappointed, but I see the slight smile on his face and he doesn't trick me. "I'll be there in a second, go get in and then ten times around it is!"

Charlie nods, and then skips over to the laundry basket. I watch as his rain boots clunk on the floor, almost positive he's going to fall over in the trip to the laundry basket, but he manages to keep his footing the entire time. Harry and I watch him struggle to get in the laundry basket for a few moments, having to pull himself up to get inside, but he manages to do it after a few failed attempts.

I feel Harry's arm around me again, and his lips pressed into my temple as I watch Charlie wait patiently in the laundry basket. Harry's kiss obviously surpassed Charlie's, there is no doubt in my mind of that, especially now that he's doing it again. But there is no way I would have answered any differently.

"I got snubbed," Harry whispers into my ear, his lips still against my skin. "That was just a warm up. The real kiss is coming later," I feel him smile, laughing quietly.

Then he stands up quickly, running over to Charlie in the basket and keeps his promise. He pushes Charlie around the room ten times, until his whole body is sore and Charlie can barely breathe from laughing so hard.

...

"Wake up, sweet girl," I hear his voice, deep and raspy, coaxing me out of my sleep.

I don't open my eyes right away, almost hoping if I ignore him he'll let me sleep a little longer. But I quickly change my mind as I feel his lips trailing against my jaw, his tongue rough against my skin. It's now that I realize Harry's on top of me, his chest pressed into mine and his legs straddling either side so he doesn't put all of his weight on top of my body that's mostly still asleep.

"Wake up," he whispers again, trailing his small kisses down my jaw and to my neck. His hands grip my waist, pushing up my shirt slightly as his fingers pad on my skin. "Wake up, or I'll tickle you," his fingers start to move against my side.

"Harry," I groan with my eyes still closed, hoping to stop him before he lives up to his threat.

"Ahh," he laughs, his lips still extremely close the skin of my neck. "There you are. Good morning."

I still haven't opened my eyes, only peeked through a small sliver to make sure I wasn't dreaming. In that time, I quickly confirmed that I was indeed in real life, and not in a dream world. But it was almost impossible to believe considering how I saw Harry's messy hair below me as his face was almost buried into my neck, quickly realizing that he is nearly naked on top of me. The only thing covering his warm skin is the pair of boxers around his waist.

It definitely seems like more a dream than reality.

Even though I have almost no sense of what time it is, I have a feeling that it is very early. My brain is telling me it's early, and that I shouldn't be awake right now. But my body doesn't want to listen as it starts to register Harry's that's on top mine. After a few more seconds of darkness I finally open my eyes, and Harry's face is right in front of me, with sleepy eyes and a small smile.

"You suck," I huff out, a yawn quickly following.

"Mmm," he kisses the tip of my nose, breathing softly. "What makes you say that?"

"It's early, way too early," I begin, the words quickly coming out of my mouth. "And I was having a dream with bunnies in it. It was a good dream and then you had to go and ruin it by waking me up. I was just about to pet this one, it was a puff ball of fur," Harry nods his head slowly as he listens to me, biting softly on his lip. "It was looking at me with its cute bunny eyes, and then-,"

He kisses me hard, interrupting my rant about my bunny dream. Despite it being a nice dream I quickly decide that it wasn't as great as I was trying to make it seem, because the way Harry's kissing me now has totally taken my thoughts away from anything else. It completely knock the breath out of me and I don't hesitate to move my tongue with his, feeling his hand pressed against my cheek.

"A bunny, huh?" he smiles while pulling back, clearly a little out of breath too.

"Yes," I nod, not being able to blink as he stares down at me from above.

"Well, I'm sorry to have ruined such a lovely dream," he laughs quietly. "But we must get going."

He flops to the side of me, launching my body an inch or so in the air from the springs of the mattress, and I turn to look at him. It's impossible not to get lost in his body as I try to make out every detail in the still somewhat dark room. For a moment I get too lost in how little of clothes he's wearing that I almost block out everything he's said.

"Where are we going?" I ask confused.

I know we're trying to keep somewhat of a schedule, but we don't usually get up at the crack of dawn to get the day started. Usually there is a more leisurely pace to our travels, which is probably why it takes so long.

It's been a day since we said our goodbye to Charlie and our brief laundromat friendship with him, and by now we're on east side of Wyoming. We've finally started to break ground toward the middle of America, and it's becoming less and less of the west side.

My brain is foggy with the early morning and the magnificent kiss Harry just laid on me, so I find it difficult to figure out where he's going with this.

"We're on a mission," he says simply, pushing up on the bed so he's sitting upright beside me. "It's a mission to find the most beautiful thing in the world, starting now. So it's time to get up, sunshine. The world is waiting for us."

I stare at him blankly, appreciating the last few seconds of the warm bed. Then he leans down and kisses me once more before turning to leave and start walking to the bathroom. I watch him as he walks away, and I try to think of a good argument of why he's the most beautiful thing in the world, because I wouldn't be lying and then I'd also get to stay in bed.