And then, the awkwardness was gone, replaced by the same heat Harry had felt in their first kiss. Except it had gotten more intense since then, now that they both knew it was going to become something more. He shivered slightly at the feeling of her hands on his skin, though he definitely did not feel cold; he felt slightly lightheaded with how warm his blood had gotten, and he closed his eyes against it as he kissed her back.
He was overly aware of every part of his body, his hands feeling oddly large and almost as if they didn't quite belong to him as he touched her. That might have had something to do with the fact that they were acting of their own accord, unburdened by his mind's confusion about what was meant to happen next, sliding up her body to pull her shirt off. And he was aware, too, of how restricting his own clothes felt at the moment, as if he'd suddenly grown a few sizes. He knew why his trousers felt that way, but it was his shirt, too - and his shoes. He couldn't be bothered to draw his hands back to deal with it, though - his hands were on her breasts, his head lowering to run his mouth over the curve of her skin above her bra. Hopefully she'd do something about his clothes herself.