Note To Self (Harry Styles AU)

Chapter Forty.

"Stop, Stop!" Harry desperately begged as he writhed uncontrollably beneath Aubry, her bubbling laughter loud in his ears. She'd managed to pin him down in bed after she'd discovered his tickle spot, her fingers digging into his sides relentlessly. He gasped, his body jolting as another round of tickling came, unable to stop the giggles from passing his lips. "Aubry!"

Harry's hands reached for her hips to gain control over the situation, only the more he was tickled, the weaker and weaker his muscles seemed to become and any attempt he made was futile. "Please!" His plea was hardly enough to make Aubry feel bad for her actions, but her tickling fingers did cease. The smug look on her face when she leaned back to face him as he gasped to catch the breath that had been stolen from him showed no mercy, and before he knew it, her fingers dug into him again.

Harry shrieked, his body jolting with surprise. He reflexively grabbed for her wrists to stop her tickling, locking them in his hands as he rolled, knocking her off of him. Aubry's high pitched giggles and squeals echoed throughout Harry's bedroom as she fought to free herself, wrestling with him and proving just how much strength she possessed. He laughed along with her as he struggled to keep her away, eventually rolling over to pin her to the mattress.

Hips slotting between her parted thighs, his weight held her down just enough to render her body useless against his. He stared into her eyes with labored puffs of breath between plush lips, noses held so closely to one another he felt the tip of hers brush against his. Her hands closed into fists where they were held above her head, attempting to twist her wrists free from his grip. "No," he denied as he held on even tighter, adamant on keeping her from tickling again.

Her fingers relaxed into open palms, going limp beneath him. Bright eyes scanned over his features, so close every tiny detail was there for her to behold. Long eyelashes, tiny whiskers that showed the small amount of facial hair he possessed, and the crease between his brows that always seemed to be there. She wanted to reach out to him, to touch him, but the only way she knew how was to tilt her head to the right until she felt the touch of his lips.

Just a ghost of a touch, hardly a kiss, before Harry pulled back to gaze at the girl for only a second more. He could feel that same feeling he always felt with her. The butterflies, the heart flutter, the pulse thrumming in his ears. The only thing that could possibly be louder is the voice in his head telling him to kiss her, and without a second thought, he did. Locking lips, he immediately set her wrists free from his grasp, finding that holding her was more important than the risk of getting tickled again.

She didn't tickle him. Instead, her hands went straight to resting on his chest. The constant thud of his heart beneath her palm was a steady reminder of exactly what she did to the boy, the intensity of the feelings he had for her. His weight shifted on the bed as he moved to cradle her cheek delicately in his palm, lips separating from hers with a pop to admire the girl with adoration in his eyes. Always so captivated by her in any situation, something that was completely out of his control.

The cross necklace that always adorned his neck, the crucified body of Christ engraved into the metal, dangled freely in the open space between the two, gently swaying like a pendulum. Abruptly it ceased as Aubry's fingers clasped around the religious pendant, giving it the lightest of tugs to lead him back to her. His eyes fluttered closed just before his lips met hers once again, soft and plush with just a hint of vanilla flavored lip balm that transferred to his own.

He was gentle, so tentative and caring, always. The tender way he kissed was something she could feel down to her very core, making her heart feel heavy in her chest as she hooked her leg around the back of his thighs to hold him close. Harry's immediate reaction was to slide his hand downward to her hip, heat radiating through the bunched up fabric of her dress into her skin.