Dancing With Myself

VI

It's 4:05 in the morning when you find yourself tiptoeing down the hallway towards Harry's bedroom. You're still in your pajamas: an old t-shirt and some old, nike shorts that may or may not have been stolen from Deidre in high school.

You reach his bedroom, carefully opening the door without knocking, making sure the hinges don't make too much noise as it opens slowly. Harry is lying still on the bed, his sleeping face smooshed into the pillow as he snores. You make your way over to him with a small smile on your face, reaching forward once you reach him so that you can tuck your fingers into the hair at his scalp. It's a shame, really; he looks so peaceful as he sleeps and you know you're about to ruin it for him, but you'd rather use every last moment that you have here.

"Harry," you whisper, leaning your face down to his ear as your hands push against his shoulder, "Harry, wake up."

You watch as his eyelids start to flutter, smiling as he rolls onto his back with a small grunt.

"Fuckin' hell," he groans, squinting up at you, "What time is it?"

"Four."

"In the morning?" He sputters, sleep swollen eyes widening as you nod in confirmation.

You pull at his hand again, successfully dragging him out of the bed. "C'mon, I wanna get an early start."

He finally smiles at you and breathes a quiet chuckle before he pulls you into him and kisses you. It's slow and sweet, like hot, melting chocolate and all you want to do is taste it again and again. After that, it's smiles and giggles in between kisses, pulling the other back in for more after one of you pulls away for a breath of air. His lips are as addictive as a drug and you're swimming in euphoria.

It takes a few more minutes to coax his lips away from yours, but once you do, you're dragging him through the house and out through the back door towards the beach. Eventually, your bare feet are sinking into the cool sand with Harry's warm hand comfortably nestled into yours as the salty breeze causes a chill to trickle down your spine.

"So... what are we doing out here at four in the morning?"

You turn to look at Harry with a smile, "Since it's our last day here, I thought we'd have one last swim, just the two of us."

"And we couldn't have done it a little later in the day?" He frowns, playfully tilting his head.

"No, we couldn't, because then we wouldn't have the entire beach to ourselves," you smile before lifting your t-shirt over your head, revealing your sheer bralette, "and I'm pretty sure I couldn't do this either."

He smirks to himself, eyeing you up as he follows your lead and tears his own shirt off, his shorts quickly following. You're both stripped down to your underwear in less than 30 seconds and then you're hurtling towards the water, giggling childishly.

The first touch of water against your skin is freezing and it nearly sucks the breath out of you, but you power through it, emerging yourself into it completely. Harry follows close behind you, swiftly curling an arm around your torso once the water reaches your waist and causing you to squeal in surprise. His lips press against your bare shoulder, trailing up your neck in small pecks that make goosebumps spread like a wildfire across your skin.

"Think the sharks are up this early?" Harry hums directly into your ear.

You laugh, "God, I hope not. It's bad enough I have you nibbling on my neck right now."

"Hey," he frowns, splashing water up into your face in feigned offense. You snicker in response, squirming in his hold as the water splashes your face.