fifty-seven || in your arms, I feel safe

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the song for this chapter is, "In Your Arms," by Chef's Special :) 

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From the day that I met you I stopped feeling afraid
In your arms I feel save
In your arms I feel save
From the day that I met you I stopped feeling afraid
In your arms I feel save
In your arms

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    Tate


   I felt like I was on a cloud as I kissed Harry. 

   He loved me.

  And boy, did I love him.

 It was the kind of love that the word "love" didn't even seem good enough to explain how much he meant to me. I thought I knew what love was, I thought I knew what it felt like, but I was wrong. 

   Any emotion that had been disguised to me as love was merely a sneak preview of the real thing, which was exactly what Harry and I had. 

   Our attraction was not merely physical. I didn't love him because of his looks. I loved him for his soul. I loved him for the way his voice sounded first thing in the morning, I loved him for how whenever he was nervous he would rub the back of his neck. I loved him for how he subconsciously pulled me closer when he was asleep. I loved him for the way he brushed his teeth and smiled at himself after, even though he didn't think anyone was watching. 

    I loved him for him, all of him. 

"I love you," he mumbled against my lips, tangling his fingers through the remnants of my braid, which was barely clinging together, and I could practically feel the elastic slipping off the ends of it. 

   I smiled into the kiss. "I love you too," I replied, the sound of the words sweeter each time they left my lips. 

  I felt Harry's arms coming down behind my thighs, and I took my cue to jump into his arms, any signs of physical pain he may have felt seemed to have been muted for now, and as he carried me out of the bathroom, I reached one hand out and fumbled around for a bit, before flicking the lights off. 

   We never broke away from the kiss as he carried me, and it wasn't until I felt myself falling down onto the soft mattress that we both took a chance to breathe.

   Harry shuffled into the bed, pulling the covers over both of us, and then placed an arm on either side of my head, hovering over me.

  I could make out his features in the moonlight, and I don't think I had ever seen him look so happy, so peaceful, in all of the time I had known him.

  He lifted one hand and tucked the unruly waves that were falling in front of my eyes behind my ear, sighing contentedly.

  "You are the most beautiful thing about me, Tate," he spoke, his voice no more than a whisper.

I felt the faint tears of joy prick in my eyes as I reached a hand up to cup his face, bringing him down closer to me. 

   "Oh, Harry, you have more beauty in yourself than you realize," I whispered back, and it was true.

  I pulled him even closer, connecting our lips once again. I could taste the mintiness of the toothpaste we had just used each time his tongue came to meet my own. I tangled my hands in his lock and tugged at them gently.

   Harry was without a doubt the first man that I had ever truly loved, and I would be more than happy for him to be the last.


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