𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐃 // 𝐇.𝐒.

epilogue | just like heaven.

Epilogue

Eight months later

"Are you sure I'm not hurting you?" I ask for the millionth time.

"No, my love... I promise you, you're not hurting me."

I heave a sigh, having no choice but to take his word as I power on the tattoo gun again.

Just as I'm about to return to my work of covering up a certain tattoo, Harry yelps, "Ah!"

I jump, clearly startled to think I might've hurt him. I instantly frown when I realize he was only messing around. "Harry," I scold. "I could've messed up!"

He's in the middle of laughing at me before he looks down at his side. "Well, did you? It's okay if you did."

I huff to myself, wiping his skin clean. "I didn't. But that wouldn't be okay. Have you forgotten tattoos are permanent?" I raise an eyebrow, but then I let myself grin. "I guess you have or else I wouldn't be trying to cover up your gang tattoo right now."

"Very funny," he mumbles, but he matches my grin. "Really, how's it coming along?"

I cock my head to the side at my work. I would like to think I'm doing an excellent job at following the outline of angel wings, but I was no expert. I knew that, but I don't think Harry did. "I mean, if you don't look from afar— it looks sick."

He laughs. "Take a pause," he asks of me. When I set the tattoo gun down on the tray, he sits up. I smile as he inches close to kiss me.

"I'm just scared," I mumbled against his lips. "and this big belly isn't allowing me to really get in there if you know what I mean."

He furrows his eyebrows together as if he doesn't know what I mean. Then he smiles when his hands slide onto my belly. "I'll have Zayn finish the rest," he assures. "I just wanted to desperately have you ink my skin so I can say you made your mark on me."

I'm smiling while peeling the black gloves off my hands. As Harry dips his head to kiss my round, almost due, baby bump, I feel the giddiness spread through me. He's been so good, so amazing, as a dad already. My heart skips a beat every single time he decides to kiss, touch, or even talk to the baby growing inside of me. He does it every so often, but I never get over it.

"What time are they getting here again?" I ask.

"The grand opening isn't until later, but I think they should all get here soon. Why are you asking?" He raises an eyebrow, but he's also smirking at me. "Because if you're wondering if we have enough time to bless our tattoo parlor, then yes... we do. Let's fu—"

I bring my hand to cover his mouth. "Harry, no. That's not why I'm asking." I laugh and I bite my lip over the sight of my shiny ring. I can't get over that either. "And didn't I tell you to watch your mouth? Bean can hear."

As my hand slowly lowers off his mouth, he ends up catching my index finger between his teeth. I wince at the feeling, but I form a tiny smirk at the sight. "Sorry," he then whispers after releasing my finger. "Just can't help myself... I mean, look at you." His eyes drop down to my white sundress with a floral print. He looks at my chest first in the flattering scoop neckline and then his hand in on my right thigh where the slit of my dress reveals. Before I could stop him, he drops down to his knees in front of me.

"Harry," I begin with a soft and playful scoff. My hand lands on top of his messy long curls as he starts to kiss my thigh. "I already told you... you can't turn me on when I feel like a balloon."

He sucks in a breath. Slowly, he raises himself back up and he reaches for the back of my head. He makes me look up at him. "You gorgeous girl, do you know how fucking hot you look right now? You wore this dress to taunt me, didn't you?"