"I hope you know I never intend to hurt you, mentally and physically. If I ever do, just know I don't mean it, you don't deserve any pain" Harry says, cuddled on his bed, my feelings somewhat changed.
"You mean something to me, hell, you mean more than something. Does this feeling flows both ways?" He asks, looking at me.
"You mean more than something to me, Harry." I say, softly speaking.
His eyes are looking into mine, the green pale, yet so deep, I could get lost in them for ever. Massive cliché, I know. We lay on his bed, face to face, his hands wrapped around me, only our breathing to be heard, the silence comforting.
"Your eyes are beautiful." I say, breaking the silence.
"Just as you are." He says, smiling, and I smile at him.
He pats my lower back twice before speaking, "Get dressed, I'm taking you out."
"Where are we going?" I ask, and he replies with a "you'll see".
I sigh, going to my room to get clothes. I decide on something casual, yet stylish.
I pull out my black biker jacket, a white tank top, some floral printed pants -quite flashy if I do say so myself-, and some biker boots. (Outfit in the picture. Ignore the grey thing and imagine the pants being tighter)
I strip out of the clothes I slept in, and putting on the clothes I've picked out.
I don't really wear makeup, so I walk out my room. I walk towards Harry's room, walking into a shirtless Harry, my eyes widening at the sight.
His back is turned towards me, and as he puts his shirt on, his muscles contort, and before I can get caught I just walk out, running downstairs.
I can hear Harry's shoes on the hardwood stairs, and I turn to look at his lean figure coming down the stairs.
That human is so fûcking beautiful, it hurts.
"You ready?" He asks, smirking.
"What have I gotten myself into?" I ask him.
"A hell of a ride, babe." He says, and opens the door, allowing me to walk out and he follows behind.
I walk towards his black Range Rover and he gets in on his side and I get in on the passenger's side.
He shimmies his trench coat off his arms and begins driving.
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(Hazza's outfit, just imagine him with long hair)
I look at his shirt, the admiring the cheetah pattern. He's got some good sense of fashion.
