HARRY STYLES
For the first time in a while, every single thing in my life just seems to be going according to plan. Work is great, my friends, and family are all doing well, but more importantly, my relationship with Scarlett feels better than it ever has.
After her first therapy appointment yesterday, there was a new calamity about her when we went back to my place. She wasn't anxiously picking at her nails or trying to be subtle about pacing around. Instead, we laid on my couch and just sort of talked about our lives and relationship with each other and it felt so good to hear her tell me that she appreciates me more than I know.
I didn't ask her anything about what she spoke about with her therapist, but after our long talk, I wonder if communication was a topic they touched on and if that was Scarlett trying it out. Either way, I couldn't be more proud of her and the small steps of progress she's already making.
Something about her looks different even now as I watch her try to pick an outfit for the Arctic Monkeys show at The Wall tonight. I wouldn't say she looks magically happier, but she's not looking at her reflection in such a critical manner as usual.
"I think I like this the most," she turns to show me the tiny little black dress from the front. "Good or no?"
The material conforms to her body to accentuate her subtle curve, and the off-the-shoulder straps with the straight neckline show off the freckles on her chest. That's one of my favorite features about her.
"You look incredible," I nod as she balances on one foot to zip up her black knee-high boots.
She smiles as she stands upright again, then climbs on the bed to crawl over and straddle me where I'm sitting against the headboard. "How about the underwear?"
I look down to see her bunching the dress up to her hips to show me her bright pink lace thong. "Good, yeah."
As she leans in to kiss me, I refrain from reminding her that we need to be at The Wall in a half hour, which means we'd have to leave right about now to make it there on time. But then she's taking my hands to place on her hips and she's undoing the last half of the buttons on my shirt.
"We need to go, Scar," I mumble as her lips graze my neck before they close with a wet kiss.
"Right now?" She glides her hand down my chest and twists her wrist to touch me over my jeans.
Before I can even think of a response, she tilts her head to kiss me with her tongue rolling over mine. I know that as soon as I touch her she's going to take that as a green light to keep going, but then I'm reaching my hand down between her thighs anyway, just touching her with my fingertips until her lips falter on mine.
"We need to go, H," she smirks as I sit up to chase her mouth, holding her close to me as I roll her over onto her back.
"We've got a few minutes," I kiss the corner of her jaw as she fully smiles and turns her head to the side to give me more access to her skin.
"Since when?"
"Since now."
With my lips grazing past her collarbones, I sit back on my knees and hook my fingers into the waistline of her underwear to pull it down her long legs. I feel myself practically get instantly hard when I hear her moan before my mouth even reaches her core. The fact that she was anticipating it is enough to turn me on.
"Fuck me, oh my God," she delves her fingers into my hair and arches her back with her face still turned to the side.
Even as she starts pulling my hair, I strain to keep my eyes open so I can watch the way she's lulling her head from side to side, the way she's smiling and biting down on her bottom lip before her expression relaxes as she moans again. It never ceases to amaze me that I am somehow the reason for her to look and sound like that.
