The Queen (Harry Styles)

Chapter 10

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The following night after all of the rehearsals, arguments, and busy schedules were finished, Harry and me were finally able to spend some time in our bedroom alone. Together alone. Harry arrived an hour or two before I did. He was sitting on our bed in just his sweatpants flicking through the TV finding something to watch. 

When I walked into our living quarters, I kicked off my shoes, and crawled into bed cuddling into his side. His arm immediately wrapped around my backside pulling me closer to him. 

"Long day?" he asked, one hand brushing the loose hairs from my bangs from my line of vision.

"Your mother was yelling at me constantly. Like, screaming," I said with wide eyes. "I've never heard someone so nice yell so loudly."

"You've officially met Anne," he laughed. "No, Mum is a perfectionist, so she has yelling tendencies. You've now been warned."

He leaned into me, the crinkles under his eyes popping out, and dimples appearing on his cheeks as he smiled. I rested my head on his shoulder curling into his side. I hooked our legs together, and looked at the TV to see what it had landed on. 

"Ready for Friday?" he asked, picking up the remote again. The channels flicking every two seconds before I was able to comprehend what it even was. 

I paused unsure of what to respond. I mean, his answer was a simple yes or no, but it was more complicated in my brain. I don't know why it was so difficult to give him an answer to this simple question. Every time I thought about Friday, my stomach clenched and I grew nervous. My palms sweat, my heart raced, and my breathing hitched. It was as if I were driving myself into a panic attack at the thought of standing there in front of all those people. I was ready though. 

"Em?" He asked, his hand lifting my chin to look at me. "You okay?"

"It's complicated," I whispered, my lips barely moving more than a centimeter apart. 

"You'll be fine you know," he assured me. His hand gliding down my arm over the soft of my skin. "We'll be in this together. You and me."

"I know," I grinned, turning to look at him. He clicked the TV off, and rolled out of bed. I gave him one of the most confused looks I've probably ever gave anyone in my life. 

"Come on," he laughed, as he took long strides over to the radio, and flicking it on. 

"What are we doing?" I asked, a light giggle erupting from my chest. "Surely we're not dancing."

"Oh we are," Harry said holding his hand out as the beautiful melody sounded through the speakers. 

Harry's hand clasped around mine as he pulled me into his body. He swayed us side to side, his chin resting on top of my head. I rested my head against his chest as we danced in silence to the soft melody of the music playing in the background. I looked up at him, his happy, bright green eyes stared down at me.

"What?" I asked, a lopsided smirk appearing on his lips.

"I can't look at my wife?" he asked. 

"I never said that," I said with a giggle. "You look too much."

"Can you blame me?" he laughed, his hands running over my backside. "You're thee most beautiful girl ever. I could never stop looking."

Harry glanced down at my lips before ducking down to capture them together. I gave him a happy smile as we stood there locked in each other's arms. I trailed my hand over his tattoos that I seem to never look at closely. It doesn't help that the majority of the time they're concealed by his clothing. The intricate designs of ink in the skin appealed to me on him. Before I met him, I never thought I would like any man with tattoos, but Harry once again proved me wrong.