Under Pressure {H.S}

Chapter 18

Harry's POV:

The flash causes my eyes to close, and I attempt to blink away the little dots that interrupt my vision.

"What are you doing?" The sound of the Polaroid coming out of the camera fills the air.

She giggles, and my heart clenches, "You're busy and I'm not. So I'm making myself busy."

I shake my head with a downward smile, and her she giggles again.

"I don't want to be busy. Not with this at least." I scoot my bar stool chair away from my computer and walk around the counter to where she stands. "I'd rather be busy with you," I say, wrapping arms around her waist and locking my fingers behind her back.

She gently puts her camera on the counter, setting it across from my computer. I furrow my eyebrows as she grabs the Polaroid photo, and gently lifts up a part of my robe that rests on my chest. Cold air blows through, making goose-bumps erupt on my skin.

"Now what are you doing?" I question.

She puts the photo against my skin, and places the part of my robe back on my chest and holds it, keeping the photo in place under it.

A content smile sits on her freckled face, "I read somewhere that it'll develop better if it's in a dark place. So here it is." She grins up at me, patting the surface of my robe that covers the picture.

"Really?" I ask and she nods. "'Cause I heard that if you kiss the person in the picture, it develops better," I shrug nonchalantly.

"Really?" she says with an interested look. "Hm. That's too bad," Her lips form into a line.

She begins to pull away from me but I don't let her.

"Hey, this is no way to treat your photographer," she huffs.

"And this is no way to treat your model," I reply.

She gives in and smiles, causing me to smile, too. She shakes her head, "Only for you, Harry Styles."

"Only because of you, Haven."

We meet in the middle with a kiss, pure bliss taking over me. If I were to die right now, I'd die contently.

She pulls back, "Now hurry up and finish your-" she glances over to the laptop, "whatever the hell you do on that thing. Maybe we could go do something later."

I can't help watch her lips as she speaks.

Those damn lips.

"Fine," I agree, and her fingertips brush along my skin as she slides her hand under my robe to grab the photo.

When she steps away, my hands feel empty, but I take a moment to admire her in my clothes. She's in my Velvet Underground and Nico banana sweatshirt. She got all excited when she found it in my closet last night after I told her to change into something more comfortable.

"Want some more tea?" she asks, hesitating to go back into the living room.

"No I'm good. Thanks though," I say and she nods before heading back to sit on the couch with her camera. I love the whole domestic feel she has to her.

I haven't needed much caffeine since she came home or- back to my place. She's only been back for a few days, but I guess I never realized how much more sleep I got when she was laying next to me.

Since the whole airport tragedy, we decided to have all of the girls get picked up in separate cars. We felt it'd be safer that way.

A driver picked Haven up, and then I met her at her and Audrey's apartment.