Un-Tying the Knot {h.s.}

Chapter 8*

*mature content warning,
but it's artful,
unlike my other books lol?*

"We're never, ever, going to that bar again."

Harry had barely made it through the door before Eleanor had slammed it shut in a rage. She was now huffing her way towards the stairs, clearly annoyed by their evening.

He shrugged, grabbing the banister and swinging around it playfully before skipping up the steps behind her two at a time. "'Dunno...I kind of liked it."

Eleanor turned behind her to look at him, eyeing him suspiciously, but he was oblivious and undeterred. She finished her ascent to their bedroom as he started humming a tune to himself, clearly in a jovial mood.

And why wouldn't he be? He had a great day today. Not only had he gotten Calvin the money that he needed to finish his record properly, but he pushed forward the Apple Music sponsorship for another artist of his, and spent the end of the day in a cute little bar drinking with the love of his life. He might have even found his next artist while they were there, reminiscing in his mind already about what the young woman had sounded like on stage. There's no possible way this day could have been better.

But as they walk into their room and Eleanor sheds her suit jacket, revealing the pink chaffon top with an extremely low back, her soft tan skin now on display for him, the longing in the lick and bite of his lip shows that there's one thing that might make this night better.

"This was the most awful day."

He's jarred from his thoughts by the annoyance in her tone, watching as she pads across the carpet in her expensive heels. She toes them, about to take them off. He interrupts.

"Baby, leave them on," he whispers in her ear after closing the distance between them. She snorts at him, still moving to pry off her Monolo Blancs with the help of the carpet.

"Ellie," he whines cutely. "Leave them on," he begs, using her nickname in hopes she would take him seriously.

"Harry, I've been wearing these shoes all day. My feet hurt," she mumbles, struggling against him as she finally removes them.

He hummed in response. "Mmm, but they look so good on you," he smirked.

He pulled away enough to let his eyes gaze down her body, taking in her long, beautiful legs. His lips haphazardly attach to her neck, hitting the spot just below the ear that she loves, while his hands move to her waist. The pads of his fingers delicately dig into her hips, pulling her body against his longingly.

Eleanor pulled away, turning to look back at him incredulously. "Are... are you..." she trailed off. "You're drunk!"

Harry just grinned at her, pulling her back to him and nuzzling his nose into her neck. "Mmm, maybe a little."

Eleanor scoffs, using her hands to swat him away from her. She disappears quickly into the bathroom while Harry sighed and made his way over to the bed. He fell backwards into the big, plush comforter with a light thud, just staring up at the ceiling with a groan. His arms spread eagle, as wide as possible, in a crucifixion-like pose, fingering the light tufts of the comforter to occupy his mind.

He missed the days when she was ready for anything, when leaving her heels on was not only a nearly every day occurrence, but something she insisted on. When they first started dating, a simple look from him would have her naked and clawing to get at him. The mere mention of anything remotely sexual, especially a sensual whisper in her ear, had them going at it in the elevator, not even being able to pass the foyer before they were naked on the floor and covered with sweat.