Isabelle's P.O.V

January 26th

“I’m telling you Kate, things are fine,” I made an exasperated noise into the phone.

Kate clucked her tongue, “You’re bullshitting me, Belle. I can hear it in your voice. Things are most definitely not fine.”

Fuck, why did she have to be so good at analyzing people? It really drove me insane.

“Well, you’re wrong for once,” I rolled my eyes, forcing myself to keep a smile on my face, even though I was on the phone with my sister and knew that she couldn’t see me.

I tried keeping my voice light, playful, so that Kate wouldn’t actually expect anything to be wrong. I was having enough trouble controlling things with Harry as it was, and I didn’t need nor want another person added into the equation. My mind had been reeling these past few days. Harry and I hadn’t had a full conversation since the day we’d watched The Notebook. I was starting to feel scared. Every time we took one step forward, it seemed as though we were taking three steps back.

I never really knew what had happened with Dr. Grey. We’d only been to a few sessions with her, but we hadn’t seen her in a while. In a way, I was relieved; the therapist had put me on edge. But it was times like these where I wished that we were still seeing her, just to try to sort things out in our hectic rollercoaster ride of a relationship.

“Belle?” Kate snapped me out of my thoughts.

I blinked once, turning my attention back to the conversation. “Huh?”

My sister laughed, “I asked if maybe you and Harry wanted to come over?”

My eyes practically bulged out of my head. “No!” I said a little too quickly, and then cringed, “I mean, we have a pretty packed schedule. Well, Harry does anyways. I’m sure I’ll be free though,” I was rambling now, “When?”

Kate paused, thinking, “Well, I was going to meet up with Alex today. But I could cancel that if you want?” I shook my head; how is it that Kate was so goddamn good at analyzing things, but at the same time, she could easily misread something?

“No,” I repeated, “How about tomorrow? Go have fun with Alex today. I have to go now anyways.”

“Okay,” Kate sounded worried, and even a little bit suspicious. She drew out the word but then laughed, “I’ll see you tomorrow then, babe.”

“Bye Kate,” I smiled genuinely, “I love you.”

She returned it and then I hung up.

Flopping down onto the sofa, I sighed. It had been three days. Three fucking days since Harry and I had indulged in a full conversation, and I just wanted this whole thing to be over. I still had no idea what to get him for his birthday. So many things were flitting around through my head, and I had a feeling that soon, I’d spontaneously combust.

I had just brushed a strand of my hair out of my eyes when the front door to Louis and Harry’s flat jiggled, and opened a moment later. I sat there, watching as Harry entered the house, pulling off his boots and his jacket. He wore black skinny jeans and a teal checkered shirt, which was open, revealing a white V-neck t-shirt underneath. I tried to look away, but I couldn’t.

His hair was windswept off of his forehead and sticking up, and his lips were pursed. He turned away from me to hang up his coat. When he turned back around, he finally caught sight of me and froze, his jaw dropping lightly. I didn’t blame him. I hadn’t really been out of his room at all these past few days. He’d been sleeping on the couch since this whole thing began, and frankly I missed him. I missed him a lot.

Finally, he cleared his throat, and my gaze fell to the floor.

“Hey,” we both said at the exact same time, and I mentally cursed.

He ruffled the back of his head sheepishly, giving me a pitiful look, “What were you doing?”

I gestured to the phone that was still in my hand, now clamped tightly, the skin turning white.

“Um,” I stammered, “Calling Kate.”

He nodded, pursing his lips again, and slipped his hands into his pockets, looking around his house, as though he’d never been here before.

“Cool,” he said after a pause, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.

I wished that I could just jump into his arms and kiss him, he could carry me upstairs, we’d have hot, passionate sex full of love and longing, and everything would go back to the way it was, when things were fine. I was so sick of walking on eggshells and watching every word each of us had to say, being awkward and not acting natural.

“So,” I drew the word out, “Where were you?”

After a beat of silence, he answered, “Working on the ‘You and I’ music video.”

“‘You and I’?” I asked quizzically, having no idea what he was talking about.

He seemed to realise this, because a small, genuine smile spread onto his face, “It’s one of our songs on the album,” he paused, debating with himself before asking, “Would you like to hear it?”

“Um,” I chewed on my lip, not really knowing where he was going with this, “Sure?” It came out as a question and I mentally face-palmed.

Harry smirked lightly and his hand twitched. We both stared down at it. I was very sure that he was going to hold out his hand for me to take, but I tried not to make things even more awkward than they already were.

“So…upstairs?” I asked, and he nodded, looking away. He made his way over to the steps and began climbing, and I followed.

I tried not to stare at his tight, fit bum while we climbed the steps, but rather looked down at my feet. Finally, we arrived inside his room. I sat on his bed while he crossed the room to open his closet door and rummage through. I wondered what he was doing until finally, he pulled a large object out. I immediately recognized an acoustic guitar.

I must’ve looked surprised, because he smiled sheepishly, “Niall’s taught me a few notes. It’s enough.”

I picked up my slackened jaw and just nodded soundlessly. He nervously sat on the bed, balancing the guitar on his knee, and reached for a pick in his pocket. He pulled it out and played a few random chords.

Looking up at me, he grinned, “Warm-up.”

I couldn’t help but to smile, gazing dreamily at the way his long fingers positioned around the neck of the guitar, padding along the strings and moving back and forth to tune the instrument.

“Alright,” he muttered, almost to himself, and then he cleared his throat. I watched in anticipation as he began.

And fuck, did he begin. His fingers glided effortlessly along the guitar, playing the opening instrumental. For a moment, I was frozen, fascinated, before finally tearing my gaze away and staring at his face. I expected his mouth to be concentrated into a frown, focussing, but I was wrong. Instead, he was smiling faintly, looking down as he played.

When he sang, a soft gasp emerged from my lips. I’d never really heard Harry sing before, he didn’t really do it outside of concerts, and I hadn’t been to any of those. I made a mental note to tell him to sing; it was his passion, so he should be passionate about it.

“I figured it out,

I figured it out from black and white.”

I watched him soundlessly as he sung, watching the way his eyes closed, the way the veins in his neck strained, and watching the way his mouth moved to pronounce each word in such an articulate fashion. His eyes flashed open for a moment, landing on mine. Under any other circumstance, I would’ve looked away, but I couldn’t; I was stuck, glued, my gaze never escaping his. He faltered for a brief nanosecond before taking a heavy breath and going on with the chorus.

“You and I,

We don’t wanna be like them.

We can make til the end.

No, nothing can come between,

You and I.”

I watched him as he finished the chorus and broke into the second verse. The whole time, I was just thinking, scolding myself for ever wanting to slow down with a man this beautiful, this passionate, and this amazing. Had I been high when the idea had formed?

Different thoughts ran through my mind, mingling, confusing me, and before I knew it, Harry had finished.

He waited a few seconds, gazing at me intently, before clearing his throat and asking, “So…how was it?”

I blinked once, snapping myself out of it and prodding myself to answer.

“Um,” I stammered, not really knowing what to say. What could I say? It was beautiful, it was exquisite, it was absolutely, irrevocably amazing, just like him?

“It was nice,” I whispered, and I cringed when he bowed his head, chuckling.

His gaze rose back up to meet mine, “I’m glad you think so,” he said, equally as quiet, his eyes omitting a tiny sparkle. I sobbed quietly, quietly enough so that he didn’t hear, or so I thought.

His eyebrows furrowed, and he gazed at me worriedly, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” I nodded, waving his concerns away, swallowing the sudden lump in my throat and turning away, not wanting him to see my suddenly-watery eyes, “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just, you know, we start this whole bet thing, and here I am, hoping that you’ll lose first. And it’s only because I don’t want to be the one to give in, because I need to prove to you that I can be independent. But it’s so goddamn hard to do that if you—,” I gestured fiercely to him. I was rambling, glaring at him almost accusingly with my red eyes, and I couldn’t stop, “—didn’t have to go and be all sweet and dreamy, and just your normal fucking self in general. And I’m just left here, wondering what the fuck I’m going to do, because I’m so torn and broken without you, but at the same time, I’m way too proud to lose. And it just really sucks, you know?”

He watched me for a moment after my short rant, and when I paused to take a breath, dropped his head, smiling faintly. I grew slightly annoyed.

“What?” I asked defensively, glaring at him as he set his guitar to the side, laying it comfortably on the bed. He looked up at me, smiling.

I continued, wiping at my eyes furiously, “What, Harry? Are you happy now? There, you finally know that I can’t be without you, you know that you were right all along, slowing down was a stupid idea. I don’t know if I was on crack when I said it, but I know that I was such a fucking idiot, and now you get to be all smug about it! So you know what? Go ahead! Just go—”

Suddenly, quicker than I would’ve ever imagined possible, Harry lunged at me, knocking me backwards, so that I fell softly on the mattress, and was on top of me in an instant. We both gazed at each other, speechless, wondering what the other would do, neither of us wanting to initiate the first move.

My breaths were short and choppy, my chest moving up and down rapidly.

Fucking hell, stop being a pussy and just do it already!

Finally, Harry sucked in a deep breath and dove down towards me, our lips colliding.

I wrapped my arms around his neck immediately, missing the feeling of feeling his mouth moving rhythmically against mine. I felt as though I’d been deprived for so long, starved for his touch, I’d do anything to have him put his hands on me.

I wound my legs around his hips, my ankles locking, heels digging into his lower back. He simply growled a low, animalistic sound into my mouth, our tongues finding each other and fighting ferociously. We bit and nipped at one another’s lips, raking our fingers down each other’s body mercilessly. I tried to be everywhere, wishing that I could touch his whole body all at once.

I tugged on his top and the kiss was finally broken for him to rip it over his head and discard it, my shirt following soon after. I worked at his belt buckle, eventually unclasping it and sliding it from the loops of his jeans, proceeding to fumble with the buttons on his pants.

Finally, they were unzipped, and he helped me to rid him of the clothing. He was now in his boxers, and I was in my jeans and bra.

“This has to go,” he growled, pulling me up. When I sat up, his hands found their way to my back, where he unclasped my bra effortlessly and slid it swiftly down my arms. He then worked on my jeans, and soon, I was only in my panties.

His gaze raked over my bare chest and down my body, both of us breathing heavily. Without another word, we lunged at each other again, rolling around the bed like animals, just trying to get enough of one another, a thirst that was unquenchable. I pulled down his boxers and he kicked them off whilst tearing away my panties, and soon, our naked bodies rubbed up against one another, creating the friction that I so desperately longer for. He reached over to his nightstand and wrenched open the drawer, pulling out a condom and sliding it over his length. I watched him in anticipation.

“Mine,” he snarled, not bothering with any foreplay. I appreciated it; I just wanted him to get in me…now.

“Yours,” I whispered breathlessly.

He positioned himself at my entrance, and before he slid in, he looked me dead in the eye, giving me a long, stern yet meaningful glare, wrapped with so many emotions that I couldn’t recognize them all within the span of two seconds.

“Never again,” he muttered, both to me and to him.

Without another word, he rammed into me hard, giving me no time to adjust. I screamed, my back arching off of the mattress and my nails raking down his back. He kept on pounding mercilessly into me, and my eyes rolled back in my head.

“Never again!” he repeated, louder this time, practically yelling it. I sobbed, the sensation felt so good.

“I know,” I finally managed to choke out in a broken whisper, “Never again.”

His hands gripping my hips, he leaned down and planted a soft kiss on my lips, not at all matching his hard and quick thrusts. His movements were so forceful; our hot bodies were rocking on the bed, sliding the mattress along the bedframe.

“I love you,” he told me sternly, “I fucking love you so damn much.”

“Oh my God,” I cried, my hands snaking up to bury themselves in his hair. He leaned down, pressing a billion kisses all over my face, trailing his lips down my neck; leaving little love bites on my breasts, the small bit of pain pushing me closer and closer to the edge.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered brokenly, struggling to find my voice as he continuously slammed into me, “I’m so, so sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he growled, placing his left hand on the bed beside my head, proceeding to rock into me, shaking the whole bed, our bodies sliding against each other and against the mattress effortlessly.

“It was me,” Harry managed to choke out in a pained voice, pressing his forehead to mine, “It was all me. I’m such an idiot, but I’m an idiot that loves you so, so much. And I want to be with you forever, I’m so, so sorry for everything.”

He was simply rambling now, thoughts and words forming lopsided sentences, but I knew exactly what he meant, because I was thinking the exact same thing. Harry kissed my neck, biting down on the skin, and his hands cupped my breasts. He was providing pleasure for so many parts of my body; I couldn’t keep track of it all.

I moaned, not having been used to the intimacy in a while—a week to be exact—so I knew that I’d let go much quicker than usual.

I was right.

Faster than I would’ve thought possible, I felt the familiar burning sensation nip at the pit of my stomach. I gripped Harry’s biceps tightly, securing my legs around him and shuddering as my climax took over. I clenched my walls, closing my eyes as he gave me everything he had.

We shook together, hands gripping at each other. I never wanted to let him go; an animalistic fire had ignited inside of me, and I couldn’t find the will to put it out. My mind went blank, only focussing on the fact that he was here, with me—inside me, and I squeezed my eyes shut.

The feeling was so hard to describe. I couldn’t only feel pure joy coursing through my veins, replacing the blood. I was exhausted, yet I’d never felt so alive. Different emotions swirled inside my head, my brain not knowing which one to obey; everything was just so intense, so utterly perfect.

Harry quaked, and I knew that he was done.

“Fuck Isabelle!” he bellowed before his beautiful body tensed and I felt him release his warmth into the condom.

He collapsed atop my body, our moist, clammy skin sliding effortlessly against each other. His arms wrapped around my waist and his face nuzzled slowly into the crook of my neck. I wound my arms around his neck lightly.

We just stayed there for God knows how long. I think about fifteen minutes passed before he finally pulled out of me, regaining some of his energy, and pulled off the used condom, knotting it before throwing it away. He turned back to me, still lying squarely on top of me, only to find that I was still breathing heavily, even though I’d had enough time to calm down.

“I—um,” he stammered, biting his lip, not knowing what to say. I didn’t blame him; I too was speechless. How the fuck did we go from fighting to sleeping together within the span of ten minutes? It really was insane.

“I—,” Harry tried again, and he snapped me out of my thoughts.

I realised that he was still trying to explain things, to come up with a legitimate excuse for the sudden turn of events. I shook my head, my hand coming up to push some sweaty hairs off of his face. His words were cut off abruptly.

“I know,” I said gently, sighing, and then I pulled him down to me, enveloping him in a hug. He was stiff, surprised at first before exhaling deeply and reciprocating the hug.

I stroked his hair, relishing the feel of being able to do that, being able to sleep in the same bed with him, feeling starved of something for so long. I smiled, and emitted a tiny laugh.

Harry looked up at me and frowned, “What?”

“Nothing,” I said, still grinning widely. I tried to be lightning quick and come up for an excuse.

Finally, I landed on one, “I won.”

He smirked, seeming to buy it, and his face fell back into my neck. I closed my eyes, smiling, feeling absolutely ecstatic and complete. This was what I’d been waiting for, and I was so glad that it had finally come to pass, like a rainbow after a storm. There was an unquenchable feeling of happiness buzzing throughout my nervous system, setting off feelings of joy that I hadn’t even knew existed. But I liked them…a lot.

I fell asleep wrapped in his arms.

Notes

There we go, everything's peachy-keen...for now :/

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