Zessa

chapter 16

much groveling and apologies for the inexcusably long delay ... i was dealing with some personal issues and didn't have consistent access to internet, but i'm back now! time to torture you all with my tendency towards procrastination *~*

Tessa

I wake up too warm, as usual. Harry's arms are wrapped tightly around me, one of his legs encased between mine. I squint into the dazzling morning sunlight and shift into a more comfortable position. Harry mumbles something unintelligible into my neck and pulls me closer.

"Harry, wake up," I whisper, brushing his hair back from his forehead. I kiss the tip of his nose and he wrinkles it, flinching away from me. Then he readjusts himself and buries his head in the crook of my arm.

I sigh and attempt to wriggle out of his grip again. I untangle his arms from around me and slide out of bed, stretching.

"Where are you going?"

I turn to find him sat up in bed, rubbing sleep from his eyes. I smile at him and comb my fingers through my hair. "You want anything for breakfast?"

Harry falls back onto the pillow, throwing an arm over his eyes. "Come back to bed, baby," he groans, pulling the duvet over his bare chest. "And close the curtains."

I check the alarm clock on the bedside table. "It's almost ten o'clock. If you don't get up now, you might as well stay in bed all day."

"Be in the bed all day?" He peeks at me from between his crossed arms and flashes me a cheeky grin. "That doesn't sound so bad."

"Alone."

"Still."

I roll my eyes. "Get up," I say exasperatedly. "We've got things to do."

"Like what?"

"I don't know." I frown. I can't think clearly. "But you still have to get up."

Harry rolls over. "Don't go," he says into the mattress.

I giggle and pull the sheets off of him. "Try and stop me."

But as I turn to leave, he suddenly snakes an arm around my waist and jerks me back down onto the mattress. "Don't go," he whispers in my ear, playful and sexy.

"We'll miss breakfast," I remind him. "You know —"

"Don't go," he insists again, and his voice is more urgent now, with a note of uncharacteristic panic. It's rising in pitch, becoming desperate, frantic, distressed. His arms tighten like clamps around me and I can hardly breathe. I can feel his hot breath in my hair, his mouth against my neck as he moans, over and over, "don't go, don't go, don't go —"

— and then it is my voice, my face pressed into the mattress, my throat being rubbed raw as I scream don't go don't go don't go, over and over again. I can't open my eyes. I can't move. Every muscle in my body is rigid in shock, frozen in pure panic, and I don't know why I feel so afraid. I think it's because I'm alone. I'm alone in bed, and Harry's not here, and nobody loves me anymore. All I can say is don't go don't go god please don't leave me but I'm still alone, the duvet is still cold against my back, I still can't open my eyes.

But another voice joins mine, a heartbeat pumping low beneath my ragged screams: Tessa, Tessa, Tessa. It's Harry. Harry came back, he loves me, he changed his mind. My fear turns to relief and my screams break into sobs: you came back you came back you're here.

"Of course I'm here, Tessa, I'm not going anywhere." Warm arms around me. Someone's mouth pressed to my forehead. A pair of dark, dark eyes gazing uncertainly into mine. It's not Harry.