The room was large and very, very nice and well decorated, but again, not overdone. It had many textures, earthy colors, some more vibrant, natural lighting coming from the huge windows, whose curtains Harry closed to make the environment more prone to a nap.
There was another fireplace, lit, next to comfortable armchairs and sofa, a micro kitchen in a corner, a door that should have been a bathroom, a desk, a tea table, and lots of space, in addition to a giant bed, ultra comfortable, and which was majestically prepared to be occupied.
Carpets, pillows, some works of art and a few paintings on the walls completed the decor. The whole room smelled faintly of Tobacco Vanille, Tom Ford's favorite perfume. As a good fan, she knew some of his tastes...
Harry kicked off his sneakers with his own feet, dropped them on a rug and Debbra took off her boots, got rid of her coat and laid it on the back of one of the armchairs.Both got under a thick layer of impeccably white duvets, very soft, fragrant and elegant, and on huge and fluffy pillows.
How crazy this life is, she thought. A day before he was almost an extraterrestrial "entity". Someone she could, with a lot of luck, see from several feet away, perhaps at a dull press conference. Or, as she had done before, at a concert, she being just another face in the crowd. And yet, there she was, more than just physically close to him, visibly emotionally connected with her idol. It was crazy. He was already crazy without even considering any other possibility, other than that of sleeping, innocently, with that man with whom the whole world was fascinated.
For a moment, Debbra felt like a child who had been up to some serious mischief and who could be caught at any moment, to be scolded and tossed out of there. Harry looked oddly excited and was smiling slightly at her. "I'm glad you're here. Can I?", he asked, already snuggling up to her again, as if he had that terrible cold with which she found him on the side of the road. First, he buried his face in her hair, as he had done before. Then he continued to settle down. "Warm me up, Debbra. Talk to me, listening to you calms me down," he urged, snuggling into her chest, his hair brushing her face deliciously.
It seemed that there was something strange, but charmingly resolved between them, without any discussion or doubt: rescuing him from death had created an enormous intimacy between them, a mutual notion (very evident on his part) that there would be no rodeos and ceremonies between them. It made sense, she thought, feeling a mixture of joy and fear. Where would that take them? Where would that "a" lead?
Harry was known to be a complex human being, she knew that well, even having met him in person less than 24 hours ago. Everything that was known about his life, since he was a 16-year-old teenager and had his face on TV as a musical "freshman", everything about him drew a very, very different man, in terms of personal trajectory and personality.
In the boy band years the media insisted on rushing the transformation of boys into models of virile studs and predators. They were aged between 16 and 18, Harry was only 16 inclusive. He was the 'baby' of the group. It was even embarrassing to see those boys whose voices and bodies were in full transformation, with wispy beards threatening to appear on those angelic faces, having to answer "which part of a woman's body most attracted them", or "what was essential for a good, warm night of love"... There were also questions that bordered on eschatology, such as: "Have you ever had sex with a fan's mother?". It was depressing.
Often they, and especially Harry, were visibly uncomfortable with the super erotic, malicious approaches, while questions about albums, videos, tours, were in the background. That's when they were made. Still, naturally, the boys became men, maturation took place in all areas. Each one followed his path and made his discoveries. Including sexual.
Now a grown man, Harry was a force of nature and a free spirit in the truest sense of the word. She didn't cling to labels, she didn't care to fit anyone's expectations. He was absolutely beautiful physically, a sex symbol, of those who don't make the slightest effort for it - precisely what made everything even more fascinating.
YOU ARE READING
Immaculate
Fanfiction"Harry just wanted some solitude and privacy. He wanted to remember what it was like to feel 'normal'. But he ended up on the verge of death, in a distant and dangerous place. When all seemed lost, she came to his rescue. And it changed life itself...
