Introvert

21

 

 

'I want to feel your heart against mine

Your clumsy fingers touching every inch of my skin

I'll feel myself being pulled closer and closer to you

Until our bodies have no room left between them.' ~ a.j

 

||Louis||

 

He's everywhere, burning my mouth with a flame he's readily set ablaze, fingers bruising with feather-light touch on my neck. It's impossible to ignore it; the roaring in my gut that says kiss him back, now. Kiss him back.

So I do. Because I have waited years to do so, because Harry is everything to me.

The second I begin kissing back, a soft moan is elicited through his plump, pink lips. He opens his mouth, breath heaving, smelling like mint and slightly like vanilla cupcakes. And I kiss him, moving my own fingers to brush at his neck, tugging him forwards, moaning into his mouth. Because this might be the only chance I get to kiss Harry fucking Styles, because this might be the last chance to feel his moans against my lips. Because he sounds fucking amazing, all warm and sighing. 

He shoves me back, then, and my head crashes against the headboard. I let out a small, breathless laugh and he winks, green eyes looking darker than I've seen them. 

Every brush of his fingertips as he crawls up my body to kiss me sets something off, and by the time he kisses me, I'm half hard.

"F-uck." I mumble, as he flicks his tongue out to touch mine. The air is electric, buzzing furiously. It's never been so light when I have my eyes closed.

He tastes like vanilla and everything I've ever wanted, which is only one hundred percent sappy. Don't do things by half.

"I." He pulls away, eyes blown, lips bitten raw, passion bruised. I lean up to press a soft kiss to them, just a peck. A giggle floats out of his mouth. He's so motherfucking cute.

"Fucking hell, H." I laugh, pressing my mouth to his neck. I don't lay a lovebite there; I'm afraid he might come to his senses and push me away. Mostly, I just like the taste of his soft skin.

"Lou, fuck." He whines, and he sounds desperate. I laugh against his throat.

"You wanted that, though?" I ask, not peering up at him like I should. I'm worried that he'll say no; that I will have to watch him roll his eyes and push me away. I'm selfish. I don't want to be hurt over this.

"What the fuck? I initiated it, dumbshit. Yes, I wanted it. I have a crush on you. You're such a dipshit, fucking hell." He sounds affronted, and I have to bite my lip really hard to stop from squealing.

"Crush?" I ask, finally, finally looking at his face. It's full only of fondness. Butterflies swarm around my belly.

"Yes. It's pretty obvious, Lou," Harry laughs, before his cheeks flame red, "so, um. D'youwannagopromwithmemaybe?" He fucking rushes it out, and it shouldn't be as endearing as it is. But then, everything he does is endearing. It's Harry, how could it not?

"Yes, it's pretty obvious, Haz." I mock, before slowly pressing a kiss onto his mouth. I revel in the soft whine that comes through his slightly parted lips.

"Shit. Shit. 'Kay. I. I've. I've had a crush on you for a while." He admits, closing his eyes like he's scared of his own words.

"Yeah? Well, I've had a crush on you for a while, too. Should have got a move on." I wink, and he snorts, as if the idea I could like someone else is astounding. To be honest, it kind of is. I've liked him since we were at primary school, before I even knew I was gay. Before I knew it wouldn't go away.

"Reckon the boys are gonna rip the shit out of us?" Harry asks, and his eyes are lighter, but still blown. How is it possible he always, without fail, looks pretty?

"Probably. Do you mind?" 

"Not at all. I'll gladly take that over not getting to kiss you. You?"

"Babe, we've been living tucked in each others' pockets for years. We can handle it. Together." 

I know it's true. He's the ship to my compass, the arrow in my heart. I may have only just kissed him, but this isn't the start. The start was the round-faced boy who toddled over to tell me my Power Ranger toys were cool. The start was the boy who giggled so hard he fell off his seat when I told him about the time my cat ran away and how I didn't care, because it was mean anyway. The start was the boy who asked me to stop climbing trees because he was worried I'd hurt myself.

So as his fingers intertwine with my own, I smile at him. Because this kiss has been a long time coming. Because I love him. Because, despite it all, we're still here. And he is still here. And I know it's true. We can do it. Together.

 

||Niall|| {Chemistry}

 

I honestly have no idea what came over me. I have no idea why I decided to grab Shyanna's shoulder and tell her people are arseholes. I have no idea why she looked so breathless, so confused. I have no idea why I would ever save her, when she's made it apparent she doesn't need saving.

But the thing is, she looked terrified, which is completely understandable. Max is a fucking terrifying sort of guy. The idea that he could ever call Shyanna a whore, though. It sickens me. I feel completely horrified as I slowly scratch out another note, watching out of my peripherals as Shyanna ties her hair back. I suddenly want to rach out, to warn her not to be vulnerable. I know she isn't. I know she's capable of being brave. I've seen her covered in blood that isn't hers and in cuts that were her own. That doesn't constitute bravery, of course, but she struggled through it. She struggled and she hurt, but she did it. To think Max would call her a word that's so demeaning makes fury spread through my bones. No human is a whore. No matter how many people they tease, how many people they fuck. Nobody is a whore. Max is a fucking child.

So as Shyanna stands and walks towards the front where Tendra is setting things up, as Max smirks at her from two tables away, I flick the paper directly into her bag.

You're not weak and you're not stupid 

You're pretty and capable and so wonderful

I want you to know you matter.

 

 

Larry :) Cute Niall :) my faves I :) comment, follow, stalk as you want. (thanks so sosososo much for the 2.9k reads; I never expected Introvert to become so noticed. It means the world) xx