Shudder

29. A Stubborn Love

Song for Chapter: Stubborn Love- The Lumineers

HARRYS POV
*3 DAYS LATER*

What do you do when you're bipolar and in love with someone who doesn't love you? - Because I seem to be the only one with the problem.

No one seems to understand how it feels to be so emotionally disorganized to the point of nothingness. No one seems to understand how it feels to be so high and so low, and so in between. I used to think it was easier for me to shut it all off. Go numb until the numb feels numb. But when I saw her lying on the hospital bed, and when I heard her telling the story of her mother, and when I felt her cry into my arms that night; I couldn't simply just turn it off.

So I finally turned it all on.

And shit- does it suck.

**

"I don't want to talk to him yet." She's been sitting on my couch for the last few days. When she left the office shortly after Louis told her he was her brother I automatically chased after her, leaving him and Zayn behind.

She hasn't left my house. Only showering, changing into my t-shirts, and nibbling on food with minimal conversation. I won't push her to speak. I don't have the right too.

"You don't have to." I say crossing the couch and sitting next to her, pulling the blankets up and slipping in beside her.

"But I should."

"You should."

"I've just done enough crying, enough remembering, enough of everything. Sometimes I just want to-" Her hands rub against her face almost as if she's trying to rub away all the bad memories of the last few weeks.

"Vanish. Remove yourself from everything and anything. Be everywhere but nowhere at the same time. I understand Jessie."

"But it's just -"

"You don't want to think of yourself as suicidal or depressed. Like what you've been through isn't enough for you to go to that option yet. You don't want to think of yourself as weak either. So you decided for yourself that you're not suicidal nor depressed, you just simply hate living."

"That's exactly it. " Her eyes are glistening with hope; all doughy and big. She looks relieved as if this is what she's been trying to figure out all along. All she's been thinking has just been laid out to her like a map and now it's her job to find X.

I wish someone could do that for me.

"I understand how you feel that's all. I mean all my life I had to struggle with being in the middle and at some point you either move on or deal with it."

"You don't deserve this." She says gripping my jaw and holding my head close to her face. Her hands have a faint smell of lilac.

"Sometimes I think I do. And it's not because I did anything bad, or even because of my father I just want an answer to why? Why did this all happen to me? Why was my father a dick? Why can't a decided how I feel? Why does my mother have Alzheimer's'? Why can't I have someone who loves me back the same as I do them?"

Her eyes are piercing. Her hands are dancing around mine, unlocking and locking our fingers slowly as she tilts her head before nodding. She pushes her hair back behind her ears.

"Kiss me." She whispers.

"What?"

"You deserve to feel loved." And her lips grasp onto mine.

My hands are trembling as she kisses me softly. Her plump lips form around mine slowly kissing- tasting of mint and honey. Her eyelids flutter on mine as I guide her to lie down on the couch. Her hands ruffle around my hair, the feeling of her fingers along my skin sending volts of electricity through my body.

I know this is wrong. I repeat to myself. She's using you to hide her pain. I chant again, but her lips are to intoxicating, alluring. She's my own personal get away- like Christmas- and since she doesn't come often. I take what I can get.

I kiss along her neck, chest, and jaw. All over her beautiful body. Her hands roam mine and with each glide of her fingers I beg for more. Pushing my lips and tongue rougher against hers because it's not enough; with her it is never enough.

Her hips slowly push to mine, causing a moan to erupt from my swollen lips. I'm not used to this. The feeling of a girl wanting me, touching me. Just the idea sends me into an euphoric state. With each slow thrust she does to cause friction along my core makes it harder for me to concentrate. The want of her is too strong. Even a simple touch makes me want to scream for more.

Her kisses burn along my neck as she rips off her shirt and pulls of mine; fingers traces out my tattoos and hips rising to mine.

"Touch me Harry." She whimpers out. Holy fuck I whisper to myself. Her hoarse voice and begging moans making me almost release then and there. "Please." She begs again but my hands begin to shake. My tongue no longer responding to hers.

"I don't know how." Her hand grabs mine, slowly lowering them down her front until she has me playing with her shorts.

"Just try." She moans again guiding my hands down her loose clothing.

She hisses before I even touch her, and I moan when I do.

The image of her body already arching along the cushions; making me want her want to collapse in pleasure.

"Harry." She squirms as I run my fingers along her not exactly knowing exactly what to do.

Her hand grabs mine, showing me how to rub her core making me groan from the picture of her touching herself. I'd cum one hundred times before even entering her.

I do as she tells me rubbing up and down her core and kissing her lips achingly slow. My mouth forms around hers perfectly as my fingers slip into her.

The feeling of her warmth around my fingers bring pain to my crotch as she rides against my hand. Pulling in and out of her as I watch her sweat under my touch.

"Fuck Harry." She groans as I add another finger. Kissing along her breast and torso, my other hand tickling along her hips.

My touch to her is deadly and hers is to mine. She bites her lip, grabbing the edge of the couch. She's so beautiful, godly beautiful.

She opens her eyes when I add another finger looking at me and I stop moving. The feeling of her lust filled eyes too much pleasure for my own body to handle

"Don't look at me." I moan, "Ill come right now."

"Come for me Harry. Come for me." Her hand grabs mine, silently begging for me to continue my path of pleasure and I do; kissing her skin all over.

"Come for me." She whispers one last time in a heap of exhales when I reach her jaw line. Her eyes locking on mine, and her lips red and plump from bitting them down.

Her cries of joy blur me from reality as I, to seep into a heap of pleasure, my core twitching, head in a daze, pure warmth running through each limb, muscle, bone.

"Thank you." Is all I'm able to say.

I'm not used to this. One person wanting the other equally, but in those minutes of our lips pressed together- not quite kissing not quite breathing- was like melting water. Falling into each other's trap of use and love. I didn't know which was which and I don't think I really care.

She could use me for the rest of my life.

Her hands softly rest on each side of my jaw, her eyes run back and fourth from my face and chest. She's scared and confused, her hair is disheveled, her heart is racing, her hands are just a tad bit damp, but I'd love her anyway she appeared.

"You deserve to feel loved." She says once more before kissing me until the sunrises.