GOLDEN (harry styles)

je veux me baigner toute la journée

(01/02/18)

I smile into my hands as I admire Harry beside me. I'm the first one up for once, so I get to do the somewhat creepy love stare. His hair is ruffled and messy, the curls roaming loose. Other than that, his eyes are an adorable type of puffy, as are his lips in their morning pink.

It's his birthday today. I can't believe that the man laying so peacefully next to me is 25 years old.

Gemma came in a few minutes ago to tell me that everything was set up downstairs. I had been inhaling the warm scent of homemade pancakes for ages, so understandably my stomach grumbled a bit when she told me there is also croissants and other buttery pastries.

I'm so excited for Harry to open my gift. It's simple, but I think he'll really like it. I gathered all of the photos we've taken over the last few months, from the shot of him backstage in San Francisco to our adventures in Tokyo. It's like a little art gallery of our journey, spiralling from his clumsy introduction to the brilliant rainbow state we're in now.

I gently caress his cheek with my thumb, feeling the beautiful smoothness of his English skin, a small ridge passing every now and then. He's got the faint beginnings of stubble starting to come through along his upper lip and jawline, which he will no doubt shave off later this morning. These moments of sleep give me the chance to fully admire his long eyelashes as they protect the seagreen gems beneath. He's just so unbelievably beautiful.

After a few minutes of this, Harry starts to stir beside me. A lazy groan is muffled by his pillow as he grabs onto it tightly. I laugh quietly, and move my hands to rub up and down his bare back as the duvet shifts to reveal more of his skin. It's strange to see so much of his skin untouched, despite the few smaller tattoos along his shoulders.

"Morning..." He rasps, before rolling onto his back and grinning.

"Morning my love." I smile, still tracing my patterns on his chest.

I feel him shiver underneath my fingertip when I start to outline the butterfly placed daintily on the centre of his stomach. His abs flex tightly, creating little ridges.

"It's my birthday...." He sings, his voice still scratchy.

"You're 25."

"And you're still twenty! Ha!"

I roll my eyes playfully as he speaks, a smile creeping onto my lips very expectedly. Harry wraps his arms around my waist and drags me down to lay beside him, his arm a pillow for my head. His hands touch my bare shoulders, continuing to thread underneath the tank top I wore to bed.

"It's so weird to think that I'm actually an adult."

"I know right?" I snicker as he shoves me gently.

"That's mean. But I'm 25! That's so crazy..." He awes in disbelief.

The door is suddenly pushed open, Gemma standing in the doorway wearing a light blue apron with pancake mix stains covering the front. She looks very upbeat and excited as she runs over and envelopes Harry in a sisterly hug.

"Happy birthday!"

"Thanks Gemmy." Harry grins goofily, starting to pull back the covers to put some clothes on.

I stare at him with wide eyes, silently begging him to sit back down. He obviously sees this, because he smirks and walks over to his closet, ignoring the unsurprised sigh Gemma expresses.
"Right, get some clothes on, because we have to get going. Come on, chop chop!" She thumps his back on the way out.

"Jesus, why the hurry?"

Harry decides on a pair of simple trousers, a plain white that will match nicely with the blue t-shirt he's already thrown on. I remove my pajama shorts and shirt, pulling out the pretty yellow sundress I've decided to wear in the cold temperatures. We'll be inside anyway.