Shelter // H.S.

Chapter 26

"Oh, say you'll always be my baby,

we can make it shine

We can take forever, just a minute at a time"

Dallas

Harry slept over again last night after spending the whole day at my apartment. We danced as we washed the dishes, passing plates and silverware to each other between sways and turns. We returned to my bed, coming to the conclusion that neither of us had any energy to make anything of the day, choosing to surrender to the warmth and comfort of my plush mattress.

We were completely wrapped up in each other as we watched romantic comedy after romantic comedy, per Harry's choice, snuggling close under the covers through Just Go With It, 10 Things I Hate About You, and countless others.

My heart fluttered as he sang along with Heath Ledger serenading Julia Stiles on the football field with Can't Take My Eyes Off You, laughing as Heath spanked the police officer chasing him.

Throughout the films I found myself subconsciously massaging his scalp, fingers running through the ringlets on his head. The gentle and intimate action put Harry to sleep a few times, that familiar wheeze coming from his chest as he slept beside me.

My hand would get tired every so often, and the second I would stop moving Harry was awake and letting out a whine, telling me 'No, not allowed to stop, keep doing that', grabbing my hand and moving it against his scalp himself to chase the comforting relief.

I'd giggle and wave off his hand, resuming the motion. He'd melt right under me, humming a quiet 'Thank you' and pressing soft kisses to my skin, going right back to sleep.

By what had to be the fourth movie we were both out of it, our focus off of the screen and on each other. He laid with his head on my lap when I asked him the meaning behind one of his tattoos which turned into all of his tattoos, The Notebook serving as soft background noise.

As much as Harry insisted it was his favorite movie he couldn't focus on it, so I decided to ask him more.

Knowing now what he holds on the inside, I wanted to know the reasons behind what's on the outside. I traced across every inch of inked skin as he told me the stories behind them. 

A mermaid because he had lost a bet to Niall.

A rose, the flower his mother would bring home for him when she stopped at the farmers market on the way home from work.

The mirrored swallows on his chest because he envied the effortless freedom birds had.

"That's funny." I remarked as I lightly dragged my fingertips across his collarbones. "Carson calls me her birdie sometimes. But I don't really know why."

"Maybe it's because of your non-stop chirping."

"Shut up." I poked the curved tip of his nose as he laughed.

And of course the tiger on his thigh, simply because he thought it looked cool.

"Seriously?" I asked.

"Yeah. I dunno. I just thought the design was cool."

"Why on your thigh though?"

"Ran out of space on my arm."

"I figured there was more of a story to it."

"I mean, technically there is now." He said as he gave me a suggestive look, raising his eyebrows as he looked up at me. My eyes met his as I registered what he meant.