FINE LINE | HARRY STYLES

FIFTY-TWO.

NOVEMBER, 2019. CONT.

Friday was spent mainly in bed.

It reminded me of Paris and how we would wake up, try to get out of bed, and eventually ended up having the best morning sex of our lives. Then, we ordered room service and ate it in our robes after a shower. And for some reason, we just couldn't tear ourselves away from that bed.

When I mentioned that to Harry, all he said was "then why should we?" and we stayed there the entire day. Watched a movie, made out a bit, ate lunch, filmed really stupid videos on our phones, made out some more, had dinner and dessert that consisted of chocolate sauce and whipped cream which eventually got everywhere because we got carried away.

It was like nothing was wrong. Like for once everything was okay again. I get scared because every time I feel this way, something always sends us into a pit of flames.

I really hope not. I'm getting used to watching him sleep again.

It's Saturday now. I woke up early because I couldn't really sleep. River expects me tomorrow and frankly, I don't even know if I can go see him or do anything about it. There's no plan and it's making me anxious.

Harry's still asleep. It's barely 6am. We fell asleep pretty late last night because Harry was super hyper due to the immense amount of sugar he consumed. He's usually not a huge sweets person but the chocolate sundae from the hotel was too good to eat just one.

He promised to discipline himself today though, and would be using the complimentary gym later.

I study his every feature as he sleeps beside me. From the way his soft hair swirls across the white pillow in an explosion of chocolate curls, to the way his top lip twitches just a tiny bit when he's dreaming of something, all the way to the way his delicately painted toes fidget and curl into the mattress every now and then.

Once a day, I find one of the many things I love about him and focus on it. Today, his lips. I can't stop staring at the way they twitch as his eyes move under his eyelids.

He's totally dreaming.

I continue to watch his lips twitch, until they eventually curl into a smile.

What the fuck is dreaming about?

His smile grows and now I'm smiling at him smiling at whatever the hell is going on in that brain of his. I'm not even going to ask what he's dreaming about because last time he told me one of his dreams, it was not appropriate at all.

I'm getting antsy now, I want to hear his stupid voice.

So, I roll on top of him, sitting down on his stomach as I place my hands on his chest. He immediately responds to this, stirring awake as his hands automatically grab my hips.

"I had a feeling you were awake." He speaks, his voice all deep and raspy and it's making my stomach do somersaults like crazy.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you." I innocently bat my eyelashes at him as he opens his eyes to smile up at me.

"Well, I'm awake."

"Whatever shall we do." I fake a yawn, stretching my arms out dramatically.

Harry uses this as an advantage and grabs my arms, flipping us over so he's hovering above me now. I squeak in excitement as he keeps my hands pinned against the pillow above my head, his lips immediately attacking my neck.

My legs instinctively wrap around his waist as I let out a soft moan at the feeling of those stupidly magical lips on my flushed skin. We're getting carried away, his hips grinding against mine in a circular motion.