Sorry had never been a word with much meaning to me, because it was tossed around so carelessly. People claimed to be sorry over their actions, but just because you said something, didn't mean that you meant it. Every single word, sentence, and phrase is meaningless unless you give it a meaning.
I could practically feel the change in the atmosphere since yesterday all because of that one little word. It was startling just how drastically things had shifted around me, though nothing had even happened yet. It was the mere fact that I could feel fingers entwined with mine that had an inkling of hope growing inside of my heart.
I blinked my eyes open, surprised to find Harry's dark green irises already gazing back at me. He squeezed my hand in a reassuring gesture before leaning forward slowly, his gaze drifting as he rested his head near my neck, the side of his face pressed against the comfortable bed. He left a feather light kiss there before moving a hand to my waist and holding me there. We weren't incredibly close, but the small touches had my entire body tingling with feelings that only Harry could cause.
"Good morning beautiful," he murmured. He leaned up, his lips pressing to the skin of my cheek, before pulling back and throwing the thick covers off of his body.
I heard his feet hit the wooden floor and soon enough he had completely detached himself from the bed, his lean body moving towards the door just across from the mattress: the bathroom. My eyes trailed over his bare skin since he only wore boxers to bed and I sighed, shuffling more into the confines of the blankets. It wasn't quite as warm without Harry.
He glanced back upon hearing my movement and raised an eyebrow when he saw me burrowed in the duvet. "Are you cold?"
I nodded, opting to go with nonverbal honesty. No one needed to hear my morning voice.
He walked back over, his large hands resting on the edge of the bed as he leaned forward and placed another kiss on my cheek, and then a third on the other side of my face. My eyes fluttered close as he peppered small kisses along every inch of the skin available. He skipped over my lips, instead opting for quick presses of his mouth against the corners of mine before pulling back.
"Better?" he asked quietly. My eyes blinked back open to stare at him and I narrowed them, knowing full well that he knew the effect he had on me. It surprised me that he hadn't used it more to his advantage, but that only reminded me of yesterday's events. Once again I nodded and he retreated back to where he was headed, this time making it all the way.
I could hear the shower start and knew that Harry was cleaning up and might be in there awhile, so I turned over onto my side to face the blank wall and attempt to gather my thoughts.
My mind was a whirlwind of chaos, a mess that was too far wild to try and explore right now, but there were a few things that I could make some sense of, for which I was grateful.
The first being very obvious, but very important: Harry loved me. It didn't matter if he didn't feel the same way now: at some point in time, Harry Styles, who was considered to be too corrupted to love, had loved me. The thought was impossible really, and I could feel one of the few more clear topics in my mind beginning to become confused, but it was allowable considering the circumstances.
I had always heard that everyone had a fatal flaw--the key to one's downfall. I remembered reading about it in some Greek mythology book I'd once had to read in high school, where it applied to Hercules, a demigod that was the son of Zeus and a mortal, Alcmene. He was a hero that was known for his multiple adventures that were typically triggered due to his fatal flaws.
One was his ego. He believed that he could go up against anyone and anything, which resulted in one too many battles between him and others, and the other was his emotions. He allowed those two things to rule his life. They were his fatal flaws.
