Harry’s POV
I don’t have summer loves. But I do have Holiday Romances. They’re always for publicity but I honestly don’t care anymore, they’re usually just friends who stick around and the media puts us together. We end up being in a “relationship” and “break up” before February. We stay in touch, but our friendship never completely comes back, some even fade away. Two years ago it was a pretty blonde, blue-eyed singer, last year a nice brunette model with a killer smile.
This year the management chose (Y/N)… I was afraid they would, she’s not just a friend; she’s special. There’s something about her, something that I can’t let go. I just feel home whenever I’m with her. I think I may have feelings for (Y/N), more than just a girl I’d get over with time. She’s gorgeous, amazing, and her heart is bigger than the curve of her lovely hips, I think of her all the time.
How she laughs.
How she dances.
How she kisses me.
How she loves.
I remember Christmas Eve and the only warm I felt on my skin it was her… It’s all a blurry memory that I don’t want to erase.
…
Her red lips left a trail of make up in my neck and chest, and here hands travelled every tattoo in me while I kiss her. It was too cold outside under the Christmas lighting and its music, our bodies became one to get warm somehow. Striping each other’s clothes like our life depends of it; I felt her breasts against my chest and her hands in my hips. Her nipples were hard, with every movement she would giggle. She is so beautiful. I never felt like this, I never had such an urge to make love to somebody.
“I think I love you, (Y/N)” I said recovering a breath while she was kissing my butterfly tattoo and unzipping my pants. She stopped to give me this gorgeous smile on her face.
“You’re lying, Styles” she kissed my hip as she dropped my pants to the floor and played with the waistband of my Calvin Klein.
“I’m not” I caressed her cheek and she stood up. I brushed off the hair on her face and her eyes were shinning, the lust became something else within seconds. She kissed my lips, this time there was no hurry; I could feel the pure sweetness in her touch. I think it was her way to say she loves me too.
We were together from midnight to sunrise. Well, not five hours straight, when we finished we talked about everything and nothing… does it really matter? Just looking at her moving her lips, grabbing her hand and hugging her tight it was as intimate as sex; she was sex, she was love, suddenly, she was everything I cared for. The presence of her was enough. We had a laugh or two that night, her smile still haunts me in my dreams. She likes my silliness, and I love her in every way.
But it’s over now, and our farce as a couple had ended by the media itself. If I get asked about us I just tell them I’m single; because that’s what they want to hear, that’s I’ve been told to say. She hates me for that, for not fighting for the both of us. I think she had a crush on me before I fell for her… It’s cruel to set us apart. We had feelings for each other; we were not ready to end it. Not like this. We’ve barely shared a word since January. Time passes and I can’t stop feeling this way even when I try to fight it.
It’s Valentine’s Day, and I’ve found myself remembering every bit I spent with her. Maybe it’s the colors, the smells, even the shapes of hearts and flowers that guide my mind to think of (Y/N). She’s makes me feel like no other lover, that’s why.
