Dust Bones [Harry Styles]

043

note: big booty bitches, big booty bitches (songs that remind me of louis part 1)

The next morning was...silent. I woke up and felt the steady rise and fall of Harry's muscular chest. My palm rested on his warm, tatted skin.

I peered up at him, finding his eyes closed and his eyebrows furrowed. The very usual. Gradually, I began to think about last night, and I sighed and closed my tired eyes.

Then I opened them again. I let my finger trace his collarbones as gently as I could without disturbing him.

He would be there whenever I tried climbing that tree. The memories were hazy, but with a scar on my waist it was inevitable to remember. I didn't know he was the one that carried me back whenever I fell and put myself to sleep with my idiotic actions.

I wanted so much from him, but I never once thought that this could be excruciatingly hard for him. That this change in his character would affect him a lot. And I was both selfish and stupid for not realizing first.

I was so convinced that he was just heartless and emotionless, a sociopath even, that I forgot he's human. Even though he simply hates showing his emotions, he is capable of hiding them too well.

Now I'm even capable of having trouble trusting him. I love him, but in ways I can't trust him. It makes my stomach sick. I can't just simply decide, so I choose to ignore it.

My lips kissed the skin of his neck gently. Then his cheek, the hinge of his jaw, and lastly his right temple. I cuddled closer to him, resting my head on his shoulder and bringing my leg over his waist. I just wanted to feel him next to me, and I thought out that maybe I could afford to be less irritating to him.

"Are you cuddling me?" His husky, raspy voice question me slowly. I was used to his sudden attentiveness, so I briefly nodded and brought my arm over his collarbones. He was silent for a moment until he sighed tiredly and murmured, "I allow it."

I don't know why, but the way he had said it made me laugh. So approvingly and impressed. He sounded like a teacher approving a research topic.

"What's funny?"

"You," I chuckled. "Maybe you just like it."

"I suppose it's kind of relaxing," he scolds. "But that doesn't mean I like it."

My smile never fades when I ask, "You sure?"

"I'm sure," he snaps, and as he says this his arm comes around my body. He begins to hold me.

To me, this is perfect. My stomach churns with excitement and love. I'm so content in this moment I can't stop from running my hands through his hair and peppering small, loving kisses right beneath his jaw.

He lets his hand roam my back. I continue to kiss his skin until my lips finally fall to his. My gestures are sweet, loving, and caring. Three things Harry always seemed to lack. In between kisses, he mutters, "I allow this, too."

He deepens the touch of our lips. I don't resist when he hovers over my body, both of our bodies beneath the sheet as his strong arms slip behind me. He seems to cradle my body, offering his affection. My hands caress his jaw. 

Then they slowly cross his shoulders and the warmth of his back. I sigh into his slow, hard kisses. It doesn't last very long.

Because he pulls away and rasps, "I would enjoy having you all to myself right now. But I can't. There are things that I have to do. And unfortunately, baby, you're not one of them."

I am frozen when he kissed my lips and began to go off into the bathroom. His words make my cheeks turn a bright pink, and I sigh and turn over on my side, now in the lonely space of the bed. I hear the sink run and later the shower.