Here We Stand [H.S]

121.

"I have a suit fitting appointment, tomorrow."

I kept lingering my finger over his chest, drawing light little circles over the swallows that were inked on his chest.

I was breathless just looking at him.

How could anyone look the way that he did, seriously?

I mean, I didn't want to think of Des and Anne like that, doing the dirty that was obviously so earth shattering enough that they created Harry.

But the smirk on my face told me that I was unable too, because in their few moments they'd created someone who I loved immensely.

Hopefully through our love, we'd be able to be just as lucky as them one day and make our own little version of ourselves.

Only, we were staying together forever and ever.

"What are you smirking at?"

"Nothing." I answered, keeping the joke to myself.

I don't think he would appreciate the fact that I was thinking of his parents after what we had just did.

I stared at him, my finger still tracing over him, leaving little patterns as his hand stroked and squeezed at my thigh, which was draped casually over his lap.

Like the rest of the female population that was obsessed with him (hell, maybe male too), I could spend hours upon hours trying to find a single flaw of Harry's, but I would never be able to find one- not physically anyway.

He really was a work of art, a beautiful piece of human nature whom I was lucky enough to call my boyfriend.

Emotionally and mentally, Harry had flaws just as much as I did, but they were the things that made me love him even more.

Even though it drove me crazy at times, I hated when he couldn't tell people no; because he never liked seeing anyone unhappy.

Another flaw that bugged me was that he didn't see how handsome he was, and instead picked at his insecurities that made him stand out from the crowd- the fact that he had four nipples, for example.

Not to mention that one leg was also half an inch longer than the other, which meant that he suffered with permanent backache.

I smiled at the memory of him telling me that he was told to take up ballet at nineteen (I tried not to laugh and imagine him in a tutu, honestly) but he decided that was far too girly for him, so he began taking yoga instead.

Another imperfection or flaw if you like, but it was one that I loved because even in his flaws, they somehow aided his immense beauty- inside and out.

And he wanted me, he loved me.

This beautiful boy with curly hair, green eyes, four nipples and a leg half an inch longer than the other who literally all of the world lusted after, wanted and loved me, a girl who equally had enough flaws.

It made me feel fuzzy inside.

"For what?" I asked, remembering what he had said; "What's the suit fitting appointment for?"

We were laying in our bed, basking in the afterglow of what we had spent most of the early hours doing- making love, because clearly, once wasn't enough.

Neither was twice.

Or three times.

We had a lot of making up to do.

"My dad's wedding." Harry replied, "He text me earlier, think it's at 2.30pm. Got to go to up to Manchester for it."

"So, isn't it today then? Not tomorrow?"