seraphic [h.s]

chapter fifty seven.

So as Harry kept watching, analysing, looking, I knew it was because maybe he didn't quite understand each and every one of them, but he was trying to. I could see by the frown of his lips and the dip of his brows that he was coming from a good place, that he was trying to think from my perspective. He was trying to understand them because he wanted to understand me.

"These are fucking beautiful, Mae." His voice trailed through the air and echoed right by my ear, or at least that's what it felt like.

He sounded different now. His voice was the voice of the man that I was in love with. As his fingers grazed over the piercings on my lower back, over some of the tattoos there, it felt different. His fingers were the fingers of the man that I loved, of the man that had my heart in the palm of his hands.

The difference with the way he held my heart now, was that he was aware that he was holding it. He held it fiercely, confidently, with no intentions of letting it go this time. He held it, watched it, spoke to it quietly and nicely. He knew how to care for it.

I turned around, his fingertips slipping from me.

"Did it hurt? All this?" He asked as I came to peer down at him, seeing the focus in his features, as if his whole body too weren't covered in even more tattoos. "At the start, definitely. But I kind of got used to it. I'm definitely used to it by now." I told him. He nodded like he knew too. Like he'd found his own way to turn his emotions into something tactile.

In a slow move, Harry leant forward again. His lips coming straight onto my skin. His hot breath warmed my stomach, I could feel as his nose dragged along with his movements.

Kissing just above the band of my sweatpants, he moved up, the continuous cold of his lips moving around my middle, making every hair on my body stand up.

When he reached my sternum, he looked up with his mouth still on me. "What else are you hiding? Hm?" He mumbled, waiting for me to answer. Though I was having trouble breathing, let alone trying to think properly. "Not much else." I told him, swallowing as he kissed his way between my breasts and stopped with his face in the crook of my neck.

With his nose and his mouth and his hair all stimulating my skin, I couldn't help but roll my neck to the side, giving him more space. He didn't kiss quick and ferociously and rushed, he kissed the skin of my neck intricately, deeply, with a kind of slow and hot rhythm.

"And you?" I somehow managed to exhale, "Are you hiding anything?" My hands gravitated towards his chest, not only to reiterate that I was talking about him hiding anything underneath his still clothed body, but I also did it to steady myself.

As Harry's mouth moved along, over to the other side of my neck and upwards, he came to loom over me with so much darkness and need in his eyes I thought there was no way I would survive anything from here on out.

I hadn't had him this close to me in so long, the way he towered over me and peered down like he knew he'd made my cheeks flush with colour. Though he just chuckled at my question, his deep and low tone firing off signals to all parts of my body.

My back straightened, skin cold and nipples no doubt being obviously felt through Harry's thin Kiss t-shirt. My eyes could not move higher as he continued to smirk at me, the warmth of his hand settling over my chest. He snaked it higher, until his fingers delicately and loosely wrapped around my neck, just barely there, no pressure.