I can't get the words right, and I can't write you a poem. But, let me paint the love I have for you, on your heart.

"So, tell me about your wildest dreams, pretty baby." Harry smirks, fingers still toying, teasing almost, across my skin. "Tell me all of your secrets."

"Well," I hum, savoring the contact. "I want to adopt a bunny and name it Cheetos."

"That's your biggest secret?"

"One of them," I shrug.

Harry's face breaks into a large grin. He leans in closer, and nuzzles his nose against my jaw, peppering kisses along the way. "Such a pretty baby," he mewls. "My pretty baby."

"Don't be greedy."

"With you, always." That's when his mouth finds mine, and somewhere a baby is laughing and a rainbow is shining. "Are you happy?" He asks, pulling back.

"Wouldn't be here if I wasn't," I'd be home, and not in a hotel (a nice one I have to admit) trying to give everyone I know a chance to accept the sudden turn of events. "Why do you ask?"

He shrugs, eyes flickering over my face, hands dropping to my waist, holding me in place. "Because, you're mine again," he shrugs, pleasant smile, wide and content. "I'm glad you came with me."

"Well, when you asked for my dad's blessing--"

"I just got you back. I don't want to be without you." Harry defends himself. "He did say yes."

"After a few hours, and from sheer surprise of you even asking."

Harry rolls his shoulders easily. Like, he's not disturbed by the declaration. "You're so pretty."

"Thanks," I laugh. "Stop looking at me like that. You're making me squirm."

"You look so warm and soft," Harry's face is scrunched up in endearment. His hands are gently roaming me, and I think my skin burns with need every time his fingertip graze over it. "You've been my dream for a year, and now that you're actually here, all sleepy and tired. I feel like the world's biggest idiot for fucking up the way I did."

"So much love for the early morning, baby, baby, baby." I croon.

His hands slide into my hair, fingers getting lost in the strands. "Tell me everything about yourself. Even the small details. Like, your favorite vegetable. Tell me everything."

"You know everything," I whisper, eyes soft and sleep ridden. "But, mushrooms are my favorite."

Harry hums, and rests his head on my chest, his arms hugging me close. "Keep going," he demands gently.

And I forgot the way it feels to have someone wrapped around you, replacing all the loneliness you've ever felt, with warmth and soft endeared whispers.

"I don't like the sun when it gets too hot. I think all homeless people are angles who are placed on earth to teach people how to give without wanting something in return, and I like sleeping a lot."

"What's your favorite color?"

"Pink."

"And how do you make yourself feel better when your tummy is being mean?"

"I drink tea, and sometimes I'll crawl into Ben's bed. He doesn't get surprised anymore. If he senses me coming, he'll lift his covers, let me slide in, and hugs me, while mumbling until I fall asleep. Ben's nice to my stomach when it's being mean to me."

"Can you crawl into my bed when it happens, again?"

"Yeah," I scratch along his scalp, a Harry's arms tighten, shamelessly.

"I can make you tea, and hug you. I'll tell you all the stories that my mum used to tell me when I was tiny."

"Okay," I whisper.

"Do you still like strawberries?"

"Love them."

"And the rain?"

"S'my favorite." Harry is warm, and comfortable. It feels almost illegal to move him. His hair itches my chin, but it's soft, and sweet smelling, nonetheless.

And if you ask me. The feeling I'm feeling is complementary.

"Tell me your secrets, baby, baby, baby."

Harry shifts, head still resting over my chest. His body stills once more, and his hand has started to rub patterns over my side. "I like wearing hats, and sometimes I get too lazy, and put my hair up. I haven't had a good cuppa since the last time you made it, and I don't think I'm sad anymore."

"Yeah?"

"I think I'm home now," Harry's hums vibrate against me. "My favorite color is you, and the moral of our story is boy loves girl."

"We're a story?"

"Yes," he murmurs. "The ending is yet to be written, and baby, we've got the pen."

"Deep." I chuckle. "You comfortable?"

"You're so warm, brown eyes. How can I not be? You're an invitation for cuddles, and I'm merely excepting."

"We should probably do something," and I don't really want to. Productivity has never been my strong suit. "We've been cooped up for a while, now."

"Don't want to share you yet," Harry's head raises, eyes glittering, lips plump and pink.

"Harry," I warn. "I know that look."

"What look?"

"That one," it's a devious, sinful, request. "I've been naked three times now. Aren't you sedated yet?"

"With you?" Harry's breath fans over the bite marks on my skin. "Never." He mouths wet kisses over his marks, and hums against them. "Can we?"

"Again?" Harry is energetic, and if he gives me the right look, the answer will never be no.

Harry nods against me, hand already pulling my shirt up. "God, I love this piercing. Fucking love it." I'm not wearing pants. I probably should of have been, at least, I should have aimed for underwear.

Harry's fingers snake down, and push inside me. He hums appreciatively, and says. "You're still wet, darling. All I need is a yes, love. I can stop if you want, though. Anything you want."

"Yeah," I shudder, feeling the contact. It brings shivers all over, and this is going to be slow. I can already feel it.

"M'gonna take it nice and slow. Wanna feel you." Harry's pulls his fingers out, pops them into his mouth, raising both brows, and looking coyly down at me.

"You're a kinky bastard," I laugh, even though I'm almost positive I'm red, and slightly embarrassed.

Harry laughs, head thrown back. He shucks of his bottoms, and helps with my shirt.

"Chest to chest. Heart to heart." He licks his lips, and leans down. "Gonna make us one." Harry says, before crashing his mouth against mine. It's a wet, and hungry kiss. The kind that is sure to scare someone who doesn't expect such force.

A soft gasp fills the room, our kiss breaking, when the head is in, my body stretching just enough. Like, it knows it's Harry. Only meant to be filled by Harry, inch by inch. He watches, incredibly and awed, like he can't look away. When he's in, completely, my thighs separate, and Harry's body rest between them.

"And two, makes one." He whispers.

And fuck. We are as close as two separate entities can be. Tied together, and connected, limbs tangled and wounded.

My fingers, shakily find Harry's neck. I squeeze the back of it, when wet and soft lips find my nipple. My mind is foggy, my heart beating, breathless noises leaving my mouth. Harry's hips begin the dance we've done throughout the day. They rotate, and connect against mine, stretching me. Filling me.

His hands slide up, like snakes, and entwine with mine, coming to lay on the sides of my head. Our bodies move, back and forth, and true to his word, it's slow.

Excruciatingly slow.

The movements begin to speed up, and slow down just as fast. I can almost feel Harry's need to pull this time out for as long as possible.

Harry switches nipple, sucking and grazing his teeth, and I may die from the twitching, and sensitivity convulsing through me. The feeling of Harry rolling into me, hips meeting hips, a friction I never want to end, is destroying me.

"Baby?" Harry comes up to whisper in my ear. "Can you feel me?"

I can't respond. My mind is numb and unable to form words. I squeeze his hands, and nod the best I can.

"I can feel you, so good." Harry pulls out, steadily, despite the shakiness in his voice. My thigh is raised over his waist, as he moves back in.

"Fuck." I end the word with a whimper.

"Chest to chest," Harry chants, slow like his movements.

"Heart to heart," I finish.

Harry lets one of my hands go, and let's it rest on my thigh. His mouth falls to my neck, his words molding against my skin. "Two bodies becoming one, making love."

My head, my body, everything around me was electric and soft. My noises, and needy whimpers breaking, against Harry's sloppy lips. He lets my thigh go, and brings his hand up to my head, palm pressing against the mattress, fingers fumbling to find mine, until it does, and latches tight. He begins to move faster, but not crazy, the friction building, and the need to come, growing and overflowing, like water in a sink.

"Feel me, baby? This is where I should be." Harry squeezes my hands, hard, my head falling against my pillow, to look up at Harry's wide eyes. "Connected with you. Becoming one, pretty baby."

I was close, and my body is becoming tight, with my impending need to let go. I was between the need to release and wanting it to last, too. That's when Harry's teeth sank into my skin, lips sucking like a vacume. My hips picked up Harry's rhythm, and I swear we were making a song.

"Fuck." Harry cursed, hands releasing mine, and palming flat against the mattress. He pulls out, only to slam back in, the headboard connecting with the wall. Once. Twice. And finally on the third; I saw stars and heard a chorus singing. After a few seconds, the flashing in my eyes disappearing.

Harry peers down, panting, and smiles lazily. "Only gets better."

Notes

I'm overwhelmed. Xx