***MATURE CONTENT READ AT OWN RISK***
Harry seems to be getting uncomfortable and mildly frustrated. "Willow, look at me." He's waiting until he has my full attention. "That wasn't just great sex. You don't feel that intensity without a serious conn...
Harry pulls through the gate at his home in West Hollywood. I'm immediately flung into the deep waters of culture shock. I feel like I'm lost in the pages of Interior Design Magazine. This place is spectacular, something I never imagined visiting in this lifetime.
The outside of the house is eggshell white, the sun is shining perfectly and reflecting off the blue sky which canvases the entire structure in a calming azure effect. It's framed in contemporary angles, to the right of the garage sits a sleek grey staircase leading to the front door. The door itself is glass, accenting the entrance's clean lines. A curved wall stands paradoxically to the side.
The concrete drive has obviously never seen a vehicle with an oil leak. It's pristine, as a matter of fact, everything is perfect. The garage door is made of thick frosted glass panes held in place by a steel frame. Large square windows without coverings sit above the garage. You'd think they couldn't possibly provide him with the privacy he needs to escape his high-profile public life. However, his property seems large enough to make the open windows irrelevant. It's also expertly lined by tall hedges, palms, and bamboo which block the view of possible onlookers as well.
I've seen homes like this on tv, but nothing can ever compare to what's in front of me right now. A house that bares such resemblance to a person's outer beauty and their inner character is shocking. It's beautiful, well structured, straightforward, yet in some instances complicated and unexpected, just like Harry.
"So, what do you think Will? Do you like it?"
I let out a breath I had no idea I've been holding.
"I love it, it's gorgeous Harry. I've never seen anything like this in person before, although it's a little intimidating."
He frowns and squeezes my hand three times.
"Don't be intimidated, it's my home and I want you to feel welcome here, always."
He places closed mouth kisses on my lips, forehead, and the back of my hand where his fingers are woven with mine. It's like he feels the need to reassure me that his words are genuine. The crazy thing is that he doesn't even have to try that hard. His soul has radiated pure sincerity every moment since we met.
"C'mon let me show you around."
Harry warmly grips my hand leading me up the steps. At the door he uses his opposite hand to type in a key code unlocking the door. One of his large hands holds the door open and the other hand makes a sweeping gesture welcoming me inside.
Everything is visually spectacular. My sight line is drawn to the back of the open concept home. It's floor to ceiling windows overlooking the City of Angels. The view from this architectural wonder nestled in the hills of The Sunset Strip is so distracting that I almost miss the elegantly modernized living room.
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His state-of-the-art entertainment system nestled above a slate fireplace and all the furniture is either black, white, metal, or glass. His decorating style is minimalist with the perfect amount of masculinity and sexiness all the way down to the polished white marble floor. Under normal circumstances it could feel unwelcoming, but somehow his presence makes it feel like a home instead of a showpiece.
