° take off ° h.s. {a.u.}

° chapter five °

so there's like kinda sorta some sex in this chapter. just be warned.

° five °

Avalon didn’t give a shit. She honestly couldn’t care about anything. All she cared about was Harry’s lips. The way they pressed firmly to hers and how his hands softly caressed the area between her shoulder blades as he held her close. He seemed to consume her, the way he was holding her and she loved it.

She wanted to say that this was all lust. It wasn’t all the want she had for him but honestly, and most scarily, she knew it was more. Somehow, in the hours she’d known this goofy, curly-haired book nerd, she knew there was something different about him.

Harry softly pressed her against his kitchen counter, dipping down slightly for him to be able to scoop her up into his arms and lift her onto the counter. She ridded him of his coat as he did the same to her, allowing them to drop in a pile on the ground. Next was her sweater, getting stretched with his eager hands as it made her curls stick up with static after being whipped over her head.

They smiled at each other, a kind of nervous hazy smile, before Harry’s lips pressed to Avalon’s neck, making her mouth gap open in surprise as Harry’s lips brushed over the soft and sensitive skin. Her fingernails dug into his upper arms and she found, to her fascination, his skin littered with an assortment of tattoos. There were so many more than the cross she’d noticed on his hand.

And she loved it.

They were wearing too many clothes, Harry decided, and he made the rash decision to remove Avalon’s shirt, leaving her in her bra, skirt and tights. He stepped back for a moment, pulling his shirt over his head and drinking in the sight of the girl sitting on his kitchen counter.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he murmured, watching as Avalon’s cheeks tinged red before he went back in, kissing along the tops of Avalon’s breasts. Avalon couldn’t control herself as she ran her fingers through Harry’s curls, twisting and gasping as his lips covered every inch of her body.

She held his head to her, hoping he would go lower, so impossibly lower, and scolded herself for her sinful thoughts. London was proving to be a very good choice already.

Harry collected Avalon into his arms, feeling the weight of her dainty legs wrap around his torso as he stumbled back, bumping into one of his many bookcases before he finally found his way to the bedroom, stumbling slightly in the doorway before he and Avalon fell onto the cold bed.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, making Avalon giggle, as he rolled them over so he was hovering over her. Their eyes were wild, their actions uncontrollable as Harry slowly zipped the skirt open, pulling it down her long legs. Sure, Avalon was short, but she sure had some damn nice legs.

And Harry couldn’t stop looking at them.

She looked like she belonged in a museum. She was a piece of artwork in nothing but her tights, bra and underwear. Harry greedily attacked her flesh again, leaving marks wherever he could as Avalon squirmed and moaned beneath him.

His grip on her thighs was so tight that Avalon felt her tights rip under his fingertips, the material sliding around her legs as he pulled away with wide eyes, looking at the disaster he’d just made. “Shit!” he cursed, “I – I’m so sorry. I –”

Avalon didn’t let him finish as she pulled what was left of the tights from her body, reaching up and pulling Harry’s lips to hers again, stopping him from stuttering. At her touch, Harry relaxed and wrapped his arms around the beauty beneath him again, feeling her soft skin under his rough touch.