letters to hazel

Styles Stockholm Syndrome 2,3

-Hazel-

Chapter Two- The Basics

I will skip the beginning of Harry and I. I find it very simple and boring. Harry and I, oddly enough met online. He flew my friend and I out to meet him and the rest of One Direction in London, we hung out, he drugged me, and I lived with him for a little over a month. That is really all there is to it. Before we met in person though, we talked on the phone like it was our jobs. We would text, face time, and sext like there was nothing else going on, like we were the only two people in the world.

Harry: I wish I could see how wet your pussy was for me.

Harry: I wish I could bend you over and spank you when you tease me.

Harry: I wish I could eat that sweet pussy.

Harry: I wish I could fuck you for so long and so hard you wouldn't be able to walk the next day.

Hazel: Mmm Daddy.. Someday you will get to do all those things.

Hazel: You'll get to feel my lips wrapped around your thick cock.

Hazel: Just wait, Daddy

Harry: If only waiting was that easy, princess.

Harry: I'll have you with me sooner that you think, Kitten.

Hazel: I'm so excited Daddy.

Hazel: I can't wait until I have you all to myself, Daddy. I can't wait until you make me feel good.

The basics of our relationship doesn't begin there. Him and I were nothing when we first met or when we first started talking. You really think that you get to know a person through the phone but that is not the case. Over the phone you hear there voice, see there face, or see the words they type out for you to see. Over the phone you can't feel a person, you can't see what they are like when they are angry, or sleep with them. Through text I only knew the side of Harry that he wanted me to know. I love that side of him just as much as I love every other side but it wasn't really him. I didn't get to know the real Harry until I was locked up in his house and forced to be with him everyday.

During that time I got to know the person that he really was and that is the basics of us. I learned that Harry is emotional. He feels each aspect of his life so deeply. He cried when I was tied up in the chair in his basement begging him to let me free. He cried when I told him I hated him for a week when all I wanted to do was go home. He cried recounting his best memories with his band and he cried when the cops took me away from him. He cried more than he would ever like to admit and I thrived of off that. I was an emotional person too and I felt for him whenever he cried just like he did for me. We were able to cry together all the time and those were the moments where we let our walls down the most and really felt for each other. Those were are most vulnerable moments together.

Harry is the most passionate and dedicated man. He was always writing something or singing something or emailing someone he wanted to work with. He took his work very seriously and even though people never really see it, he poured his soul into everything he touched. He would sing me songs every day that would bring back old memories or that sounded like the perfect single. He loved what he did more than anything in the world. I told him a million times over that he was born to be a star. He was born to inspire people and make people happy with his singing voice. He would do anything for his work and to make sure that people knew he was serious. He loved his job. He would tell me countless times that he loved his job almost as much as he loved me.

Harry was more kind to me than any person had been in my whole entire life. He would wake me up with the most gentile of kisses all over my face and shower me with compliments any chance he could. I was only sixteen at the time and insecurity was my worst enemy but Harry had filled me with more confidence than one girl would ever need. He would compliment my looks and make me feel like the physical body I was given was the most important thing on the planet. I thrived off those compliments that made me feel like I was too beautiful for this world but it was always so much deeper than that. Harry would compliment me as a person more times than I could count and that is what mattered. He taught me that I was a valuable person and that I mattered. He always told me I was the nicest person or that I was the smartest person he knew. He made me feel confident but he also always let me know that I was a good person and that the life I was living mattered not a single person did that other than him.