Hideaway [h.s]

123

Amelia Adams

I gently open my eyes to the sunlight and a slight breeze. I close my eyes again and go to turn over to meet Harry's body but he wasn't there- it was just the cold empty side of the bed. When my arm rested on the soft fabric rather then his warm exterior, my eyes opened.

I felt the cold draft again, making me shiver a bit and tilt my head up to look at the room.

I am quick to see the balcony door is open a crack, and standing out their is Harry leaning on the railing with a cigarette between his lips.

I slowly sit up and look at him as the wind hits his face, blowing his hair in all different directions. He was just in a pair of black track pants, exposing his long muscular torso.

My feet meet the hardwood flooring, I reach down and grab his red flannel to wear. It falls to my thighs as it cascades down my body, surrounded by his pleasant scent from when he wore this the other day. I button it up just enough to cover my bra and walk to the door.

"You think you're cool because you smoke cigarettes Styles?" I ask while leaning in the doorway and crossing my arms with a smug look on my face.

He turns his head back with the cancerous stick between his lips, smirking back at me.

"You bite your nails, I smoke cigarettes. We all have bad habits." His morning voice raspier then ever.

I chuckle and walk out to the cold February air, leaning forward on the railing next to him.

"Fair enough." I mumble.

"What are you doing up so early babe?" He turns his head to me, letting the smoke blow out the corner of his mouth.

"You left the door open enough for a draft." I rest my chin on my fist, looking out at the backyard.

"Mmm I see." He hums between the cigarette and moves so he stands behind me, leaning on the railing with his forearms that were on either side of me. I stay trapped between the railing and his body. He tosses the remains of his cigarette off the railing and dips his head down to kiss my exposed shoulder. His body was so warm against me, he was always radiating pleasant heat.

"Why are you stressed?" I ask, making him stop and pull his head back.

"What do you mean?" His chest vibrates against my back.

I turn around to face him, my back against the railing between his arms. I rest my hands on his chest and run my finger lightly down the vertical scar, meeting my eyes with his green entities.

"You're stressed. You told me you smoke when you're stressed." I murmur up to him, running my hands up his shoulder and keeping them on the sides of his neck. His lips curl a bit and he shakes his head a tad bit.

"I did tell you that didn't I?" He looks out at the forest instead of down at me.

"You did." I whisper while stroking his skin with my thumbs softly. His eyes trace back down to me, his emerald orbs looking like their so many crazy things going on behind them.

"It's just everything going on. The gang, my father, keeping you safe. I just sometimes wish things didn't have to be so fucked up all the time." He mumbles while looking down at the ground between us.