Afterlife: Redemption

7

LANE

He groaned loudly, his head rolling back against the couch.

"Can we please change the channel?" he begged for the tenth time in the last hour. He looked over to me, his green eyes pleading as he pouted out his pink lips. He looked adorable and sexy, but there was no way I was giving in.

"Nope," I refused, looking away quickly from the pouty look he was giving me. "You said I could watch what I wanted, and I want to watch this."

"But its soooo fake," he groaned, again, his head rolling against the couch dramatically. I ignored him, my eyes trained on the TV as I watched Rick and Daryl stalk through the woods looking out for zombies.

We had been laying on the couch for the last couple of hours, talking, cuddling, kissing and laughing. We were both barely dressed, him back in his boxers, myself back in the oversized shirt that I had plucked off his bedroom floor that morning. After our post breakfast interlude, I decided a little quiet TV time was in order. I knew if we were to go back into his room, there would be only one thing we would be doing. And as much as I was loving being with him, I wanted to be able to walk the rest of the week.

Harry pulled an old blanket from the back of the couch, wrapping us both up tightly. His arm was across my shoulders, my legs pulled over his lap so I was basically curled up in him as we flicked through the channels. I hadn't watched TV since before I left for Somalia, not that I was a big watcher even then. But it seemed like fate when I landed on AMC, and there was a Walking Dead marathon on the screen. Immediately, Harry groaned, reaching out to try and snatch the remote from my hands, whining that I could watch anything I wanted, except my 'stupid fucking zombie show'. Of course, I all but sat on the remote to keep it from him, and after a struggle and a bit of pouting from me, he finally gave in. But not without his constant whining since that he hated the show, and couldn't believe I liked it so much.

"If you hate it so much, why did you watch it with me before I went away?" I finally asked, shooting him a look.

He smirked, his eyes falling to the blanket as he flicked at the loose threads. "So I could spend time with you," he admitted sheepishly, before looking over to me.

I couldn't help the smile that came across my face, as I leaned over and kissed him. Harry met me half way, his lips molding against my own as his hand cupped my face.

It seemed to strange to me that I was here with him now. Somalia had felt like another life, and my relationship with him a completely different one than we had had before my departure. Now, back in New York, with him face to face, it was like a third version of us together. Each part, a completely different stage, the dynamics so completely dissimilar. We started out antagonistic and silent, always back and forth, never honest. Then we moved on to shy honesty, declarations and millions of miles apart. Now, side by side, half naked and wrapped up together, we were like two lovers having never been apart, but still learning each other. We were our own little enigma, our dynamic so difficult to understand, and impossible to explain.

As Harry leaned into me further, he deepened his kiss, moving to lay me back against the couch. Immediately I laughed, pulling away from him to place my hand on his chest.

"Not so fast, Styles," I scolded, dodging his lips. "You're not going to distract me like that."

"Like what?" he grinned, his beautiful accent enticing me. Leaning back towards me, his hands gripped my legs, pulling me quickly until I was thrown back down against the couch. He had me trapped as he lowered himself over me, kissing his way across my neck.

"Harry," I whined, my hands placing themselves on his shoulders. "How can you still be horny?"

Moving his lips to just below my ear, he laughed. "I've had months of no sex, and wanting no one but you. Now that you're here, I making up for lost time."