The Bad Boy's Bad Words (COMPLETED)

Preparations

Taylor's P.O.V

A Week Later:

"Okay so you got the dresses," I questioned Arianna once more, "and you got the makeup and hair artists to meet at the venue."

"Yes Taylor," she huffed, "you do know where the venue is, right?" Her tone became questionable.

"Um," I fiddled with my jumper as I packed the remaining items off of my 'Florence's Wedding' list.

"Okay, I'll just swing by tomorrow and pick you up a few hours before the wedding."

"Bye," I grinned, and tiredly ended the call.

I pushed myself off of the bathroom sink top, and slouched into the bedroom where a tired looking Harry was laid flat out on the bed.

I grinned, and dived on his stomach giving him a large hug as I drifted off to sleep.

Somehow, I'd managed to develop a sleepy sensation at nine forty two at night, and I'm guessing it's due to the masses of stress and eye rolling Harry has put me through these past months.

---

Coffee.

The word played over and over in my head as I stomped down the stairs in Harry's house - our house.

"Morning," Harry mumbled as I kissed his smooth cheek. I smiled at him as my eyes travelled to a steaming mug of coffee sat on the kitchen island.

"This is why I love you," I grinned, and his movements stiffened, slightly.

"Oh," love, Taylor? "I meant it as a phrase."

"Yeah I know," he silently sighed, and handed me the coffee. Phew.

"Can we still tell each other we love each other, even though it might not actually be love?" He broke the silence by bringing up the subject again.

"Of course," I shrugged, and carefully sipped on the coffee.

Within seconds I had dropped the mug to the floor due to the pain that the burning coffee had caused me. I clasped my hands over my mouth and staggered backwards, my hips coming in contact with the kitchen island, it being the only thing to steady me.

"Taylor!" Harry gasped, rushing to my side and helping me sit down.

My eyes welled up with tears and I continued to apply pressure to my increasingly swollen lips.

"Here," Harry stumbled over to the sink and grabbed a small towel, soaking it in cold water. Then, he quickly walked back to my side and turned my chair to face him.

I looked at his face, twisted with concentration as he skillfully dabbed my lips with the cool and refreshing towel.

Staring into his eyes, I realized something - although he may come across as a narcissistic asshole, he just happens to have a heart; that's set on me.

"Thank you," I tried to smile, but all that came from that was a strange and cringey like mouth lift.

He lifted his finger to my lips, pressing it against the soft and swollen skin.