Isabelle's P.O.V

“Ready to go to bed?” Harry asked as soon as I shut the door after Louis and Eleanor. They had been the last ones to leave, and personally, I was glad that they had. I wanted to spend some quality time with Harry, and even though we had just done that recently, I felt deprived for absolutely no reason. Because that was Harry. He was like a drug to me.

“Yeah,” I nodded and then gestured to down the hall, “Just let me change into something more comfy.” Harry nodded and I quickly padded down the hall, arriving in his room.

Thankfully it wasn’t messy. After everyone had piled in, they’d decided to fetch snacks. Harry had threatened to kill them if they got any crumbs on the floor.

I ruffled through Harry’s drawers and finally came across a baggy t-shirt of his. His Hipsta Plzzz one was at my house, so I decided to shrug on a black Ramones top. I pulled my shirt off and tugged his on, and then shimmied out of my pants, deciding to not go with any bottoms. I was wearing plain white underwear underneath, but I doubted that Harry would mind.

Harry. He was just so perfect. His skin was so tanned, his body so muscular, his hair so gorgeous. His smile made me melt, and I felt truly privileged that I got to see his dimple, in person, almost every day. He was mine, and I was his. I know that we were moving so quickly, as in bullet train quickly, but I couldn’t help it. Every time I vowed to take things slower, he was there; fucking up my plans with his beautiful self and making me crave him more and more. I couldn’t help but to think: Was it really so bad to be moving this quickly? I didn’t know, but I didn’t want to stop anymore.

I ran a hand through my hair, messing it up, before looking in the full-length mirror and studying my body. I had to admit, I looked decent. Usually I thought that I wasn’t pretty at all, but I guess being around Harry had rubbed off on me; I now began to think of myself as an average girl. I wasn’t too curvy or too straight, I was directly in the middle. I wasn’t too short, or too tall, but of course, being around Harry made me feel much shorter than necessary. I smiled to myself and shook my head. I couldn’t afford to get distracted right now.

I tentatively made my way to the door, opening it quietly and tiptoeing down the hall. I peeked into the kitchen, and there was Harry. He was still wearing his jeans and t-shirt, but his feet were bare. I padded over soundlessly and wrapped my arms around him. His body tensed for a moment but then relaxed.

“Hey there,” he mumbled, his back still to me. I nuzzled my face into the cottony fabric, “Hi,” I giggled. That’s when he did turn around. And when he did, I swear, I thought he was going to have a heart attack right there and then. His jaw dropped and his eyes became the size of tennis balls when he took in my appearance. I blushed as his eyes raked down my body.

“What the fuck are you wearing?” he asked bluntly. I’ll admit: I was expecting something a little nicer. I immediately felt ashamed and took a step back, crossing my arms over myself, “I’m sorry,” I stammered, “I’ll—I’ll go change.”

I turned away, but a moment later I felt a hand clamp around my forearm, and I was yanked back around. My head hit Harry’s clothed chest lightly and he hugged me tightly, “No,” he growled, and then said gently, “I mean, you look gorgeous. That came out all wrong, I’m sorry. You’re making this ‘No sex’ thing really hard on me.”

“Are you sure?” I asked, biting my lip nervously. He kissed my nose, “You look beautiful.”

Okay, I felt better. He was just surprised. As soon as he complimented me, a buzzing feeling began in my stomach. I stared up at him.

“Really?” I asked, hoping that he meant it. His gaze swerved down my body again.

“Fuck yeah,” he practically panted. I giggled and leaned up, kissing him gently. His hands immediately found their way to my thighs, and he mumbled against my mouth, “Jump.”

I complied only too eagerly and leapt up, wrapping my bare legs around his waist. His hands trailed down to my bum, where he held me there. He then began moving out of the kitchen, down the hall and into his bedroom. The whole time, we were attacking one another’s lips.
He set me down on his bed and I reached for his shirt as he climbed on top of me, clawing at him to remove it. Soon, it was off and was tossed across the room, falling to the floor in a heap. He leaned down to crash his lips against mine again, and we resumed our passionate kiss. “You look so sexy in my clothes,” he muttered, and I shivered as his hands trailed to my lower hips, his fingers playing with the rim of my panties.

This was the man I loved. I loved him no matter how cheeky or perverted he was. He made me smile and laugh, and he made me a happy person, he made me forget about everything around me and distracted me from my past. That was what I needed, and Harry was doing that. It was simple: I needed Harry. I needed him like oxygen. I needed him the way someone only can need someone else. It was insane, so absolutely and irrevocably insane, but so absolutely and irrevocably true. I needed him; there was nothing else to it.

Suddenly, Harry’s cell phone rang from inside the pocket of his jeans. He groaned against my mouth, but continued to kiss me, paying no attention. It took all of my strength to pull away, and even then, I did so reluctantly. “I think,” I panted, trying to catch my breath, “I think that you should—should answer that.”

He made a deep growling sound in the back of his throat and I couldn’t help but to smile lightly as he rolled off of me and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He unlocked it and answered the call. “Yes?” he snapped, and I was about to tell him that it wasn’t nice to greet someone like that, but then he immediately sat up, his chest still bare and heaving, “Yes,” he said quickly, “This is him.”

He listened intently to the crackly voice on the other end of the line, nodding every so often and saying, “Mm-hm.” I wondered who he was on the phone with. Finally he said firmly, “Yes, tomorrow. Yes, I know. We’ll be there. Have a nice evening. Alright, bye.” He hung up and stared down at the phone for a few moments.

I cleared my throat and he looked over at me, his face a blank mask. I pried, “Who was that?” I asked. He yawned before saying, “It was the couples’ therapist. Remember I told you we would be seeing her tomorrow?” I nodded, the events of earlier today coming back to me.

“Do you know her name?” I asked, and he bit his lip. I found the gesture extremely cute and wanted nothing more than to kiss him all over again. “I think her name is Doctor Grey,” he said, his eyebrows crinkling. I nodded and then there was an awkward moment of silence.

Clearing my throat, I asked, “So…what should we do now?”

Harry immediately caught on and smiled wickedly at me, “I don’t know,” he said innocently, batting his eyelashes, at which I laughed, “What should we do?”

He inched closer to me and I giggled as he climbed back on top of me. He leaned down to kiss my jawline lightly, trailing small pecks all along my skin. “I think we should,” I grinned devilishly, “Get some rest. It’s been a long day.”

Harry groaned and sat up off of me, his legs still straddling my hips, “Aw, come on,” he grumbled irritably. I laughed and sat up, so that our chests were pressed against one another. Ever so faintly, I used the tip of my fingernail to trace small circles on his bare torso. He stiffened.

“Fuck this,” he muttered, and he harshly pressed his mouth to mine again in a needy way. My arms soon wound around his neck and I fell back, pulling him down with me. He traced my bottom lip with his tongue and I opened my mouth, letting him in. Our tongues fought for dominance, and I smiled against his lips. Usually I didn’t like these kinds of kisses, but as I said before, Harry was a drug that I craved. I couldn’t get enough.

His fingers slipped up my shirt—or was it his?—and I shivered, digging my nails into his shoulders and leaving small crescents in their wake. Finally we pulled back and he kissed my nose gently, “I’m so lucky to have you,” he told me quietly. My heart was beating so hard in my chest that I was afraid that it would burst out.

“If anything,” I whispered, “It’s the other way around.” His brow furrowed, “What do you mean?”

It was all coming out now. I had to tell him. When I thought about it, it made so much sense. I was the lucky one. I was dating freaking Harry Styles. I loved him, and he loved me back. Millions of girls across the world would give anything, would even kill, to be in my exact position right now, directly under him, with him smiling down at me and kissing me tenderly. Out of all the girls in the world, it just so happened to be me.

I didn’t realised I’d said this out loud until Harry growled, his lips only centimeters from mine, “Don’t fucking say that,” he told me, “I’m the lucky one here. Out of millions of girls, I found you. Tell me what the odds of that are.”

He made me feel better. Whenever I was down on myself, he made me feel so much better and happier. I loved him so much, and at this point, I didn’t care who was luckier, all I cared about was the fact that I was with him and that he was with me. “I love you,” I told him solemnly. He kissed me hungrily before replying back, calmer than I’d expected, “I love you so much more.”

I giggled as he wrapped his arms around my waist and nuzzled his face into my neck. I was expecting him to kiss me again, but in a way, I liked this better. To me, it revealed that he didn’t just want me physically; he wanted to cuddle with me, and honestly, I wasn’t complaining one bit.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my throat, making me shudder. I grinned, closing my eyes and stroking his hair. He nestled his face a bit deeper into my neck and sighed, “We should sleep. The appointment is at ten in the morning tomorrow.” I nodded subconsciously, already beginning to drift off. “Okay,” I mumbled, still stroking his curls.

He must’ve sensed that I was on the brink, because he kissed my collarbone lightly before saying, “Good-night baby. I love you.”

“I love you too Harry,” I murmured quietly, my last thought being: How on Earth did I get so lucky?

***

Gray wintery morning light streamed through the windows when I opened my eyes and yawned. At first, I blinked a few times, looking around, and trying to get a grip. Finally I remembered that I was in Harry’s room. I blushed when I began reminiscing the events that had happened last night. It seemed so far away.

That’s when I realised that Harry was on top of me. I was lying down, under the covers of the bed, with Harry’s whole body blanketing me. It seemed as though we hadn’t moved from the position we’d assumed last night. His head was buried in my neck, his body squarely on top of mine. His shallow breaths and snores tickled the skin on my neck. He wasn’t really that heavy, but I was starting to get hot, and I really had to pee.

“Harry,” I whispered, moving my hand up to tug on his curls lightly. He groaned, nestling his face even further into my neck. I giggled, “Hawey,” I said in a baby voice, pulling on his hair a little more forcefully.

“Keep doing that,” he rasped, and I felt something light tickle my neck. I could only guess that it was his eyelashes; they were very long.

“I would, but I’ve got to pee,” I giggled again. He grumbled and pulled out from the crook of my neck, looking at me. His eyes were still halfway closed and he licked his lips. His hair was unruly, and usually that was something that turned me off, but he looked so sexy right now, I couldn’t even describe it. His bare chest was pressed down onto my t-shirt, and he said, “Can I come?”

Dear Lord, that raspy, sexy morning voice. I couldn’t contain it anymore. I wrapped my arms around his neck and threw myself at him. Our mouths met, and for a moment, he didn’t do anything, but then he began kissing me back, his passion exceeding mine.

But I had to pee.

I pulled back, smacking my lips and laid back down on the bed, trying to break free of Harry’s embrace, “There. I think that should hold you off for a little while.” He groaned, rolling off of me, and I thanked him whilst making my way over to the washroom. I closed the door, did my business, and flushed the toilet.

While I opened the tap on the sink and let warm water run down my soapy hands, I stared at myself in the mirror. My hair was slightly frizzy, as it always was, and there were slight bags under my eyes. Huh, that was new.

I hooked my index finger into the collar of the Ramones t-shirt and tugged it down, exposing my collarbone. The numerous love bites that Harry had given me were still there, purple and pink. But my attitude about them had changed. I was no longer embarrassed about them, I guess you could say. I mean, really, Harry freaking Styles had given me multiple hickeys. I should’ve been showing them off proudly.

Of course, I wasn’t going to do that, because then I would be labelled as a slut for the rest of my life. I didn’t want people knowing about them, but it wasn’t because I was embarrassed. It was my private life. Well, mine and Harry’s. But I felt as though that these marks were symbols of our love; they were something that we could look at and smile about, something that reminded us that the media didn’t own us and we could have secrets and privacy.

These bites were my own little sweet secret.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. I heard Harry’s voice, “Are you decent?” Without waiting for a reply, he strutted in.

I giggled, drying my hands and looking at him in the mirror, “What if I wasn’t?”

“I wouldn’t have minded,” he said in a sweet voice, batting his eyelashes at me. I laughed and watched us as he leaned down and wrapped his arms around my hips casually, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “Look at us,” he said, his eyes tossing a quick glance to the mirror, “We look so good together.”

“We do, don’t we?” I said proudly, laying my head back and snuggling closer to his bare chest. He grinned, “Yes we do, Miss Foster.” He pressed a feathery kiss to my neck and I sighed.

“What time is it?” I asked. He frowned and then turned his head, shooting a look at the alarm clock on his nightstand.

“Ooh, nine,” he sucked in air between his teeth dramatically. I bit at my bottom lip, “We should get ready. We can’t be late to the first meeting.”

“Relax,” he made an exasperated noise, but I managed to slip out of his grip and back into his bedroom. He groaned, trailing after me, and I placed my hands on my hips, “Do you want to have sex with me, or not?”

“Do you even have to ask?” he cocked an eyebrow dryly, and I blushed, forcing myself to keep my gaze on him and not look away. Instead I rolled my eyes, “Well then, let’s get ready and go.”

“Fine,” he sighed, and I grinned, sauntering over to him and kissing his cheek lightly, “Thank you,” I told him earnestly, and he flashed me one of his famous cheeky grins. I turned to walk away, but he caught me around the waist and whipped me back around to look at him.

“But afterwards,” he murmured in my ear, “We’re doing something fun.”

I couldn’t help but to feel excited.

Notes

I know, I know, I'm a terrible person! I had a massive science fair project to work on yesterday, but thank God that's over! I will now be free-ish, so expect another update sometime within the next week. Yesss...

Guysss...we're so close to 100 votes! Come on! If I reach 100 votes I will be so fucking happy, you will be able to feel my happiness all across the globe. Kind of like a good global warming, I guess :)

That awkward moment when you start wincing in class because of period cramps...

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