Ghost Writer [Harry Styles][H.S. Fanfic]

23 - GOOSEBUMPS

*COUGH* HANKY PANKY CUMMING 😉😉 YOUR WAY - NSFW *COUGH*

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(HARRY'S POV)

"Then take me, Harry."

The way her words curl around my body and constrict like a noose; it's as if all the air in my lungs gets sucked into a whirlwind and I can't breathe. She must've noticed how I was turning blue from the lack of oxygen to my brain because her fingers grasp the back of my neck, and she yanks me down to her with unexpected strength. Smashing our lips together, she kisses me with a ferocity that breathes life back into my soul. My angel.

I've waited a long time for this moment. To drive her to the brink of insanity with my touch. To let my lips roam the length of her silky skin and taste her sweetness. To be inside of her. To make her feel good. And tonight is the night I'm getting everything I've wanted since the moment I laid eyes on her. She's my greatest desire, and likely my ultimate undoing. But there's no going back after this.

Bloody hell. I knew I shouldn't have only asked for one night, but the alcohol had me bartering out of sheer desperation to have her. To leave my mark on her heart and her body. That said, I'm not daft enough to think that's all I'll want from Sunny. Because that's not the case. Not in the slightest. I want every night and every day with her. I want the present and the future and to share our pasts. The good and the bad days. I want to be her shoulder and her support. To be the one who wipes away all of her tears, and the reason for her smiles.

People may think I'm out of my mind, and it's too soon, but I've never had this type of connection to anyone in my life. Throughout these last couple of months, Sunny has become my best friend.

She drives me fucking mad, makes me laugh, plays an unnerving amount of pranks, and she sneaks up to scare the shit out of me at least twice a day. She pesters me to no end, and the scariest part is she doesn't even realize she's doing it most of the time. We could be on the couch, and she's reading a book, and her skinny little fingers find themselves poking my cheeks, getting stuck in my ears or up my nose, and they've officially found all of my ticklish spots. I learn so much from her because she talks to me about real, thought-provoking matters, and has effortlessly hauled me to the dark side of the conspiracy theory realm.

She sees me in a different light than the rest of the world and puts me on a pedestal. One that she deserves more than anyone I've ever met. And damn it, she makes me brave. I'm myself around her. My best self. My true self. With her, I don't have to hide.

How could I not want her?

And becoming cognizant of the crippling truth that I'd almost lost her long before ever getting this chance; I'm gutted and grateful, all in the same breath. Sunny almost died. I mean, technically, she did for a few minutes. It tears me to shreds when I try to grasp how the gaping hole in my chest that formed after meeting her last summer would've never refilled by the woman who put it there. But she survived, and I found her again, and letting her slip from my grasp is a task I cannot bear the thought of.

There's no way she can't feel this, too. We've carved open our chests and blindly handed our trust to one another, pouring our unfiltered faith into believing we'll safeguard it with our lives. With people's outlooks on love and relationships, the morals of the current world we live in, and working in the industry that we do; that's damn near unheard of. It's like signing your heart over with the guarantee it'll inevitably get broken.