Butterfly [A Harry Styles Fanfiction] *COMPLETED WITH SEQUEl* {Book 1}

Chapter 48: Half Way There

Cami's POV:  

As the wretched reminder of my father's visit had faded away, along with it went a very long week. The bruise on my face had healed, but it didn't stop Harry from insisting we spend every night together. Harry was still worried that Jeremy would make another attempt to gain my forgiveness and was determined to ensure that never happened. It took begging and pleading to stop him from showing up at my father's house the night he found out and I didn't want anything to undo that. Not only was I protecting myself, I was protecting Harry from the wrath that would come out if he ever confronted Jeremy. Luckily for us both, as the week came to an end, so did Harry's anger and I couldn't be more greatful. 

As he laid behind me, arms wrapped protectively around my waist, I silently thanked whatever God was out there, that I found him. I shifted slightly, turning myself around to my supposed sleeping boy, only to find his green eyes staring into mine. As I repositioned myself, Harry did the same with his grip on me. 

He smiled sleepily and ran his thumb across my cheek. "Morning, love," he rasped. 

"Goodmorning," I chirped, pecking my lips in the crack of his neck. 

His skin was warm on my lips and I could just barely pick up the soothing scent of his body soap from the shower he had taken last night. I had come to find his scent comforting in all sorts of ways. When I got even the faintest hints of it, I felt safe, relaxed and at home. 

I always thought that the saying 'home is where the heart is' was nothing but sappy words, strung together in a hallmark card. I would never have felt it's power without meeting Harry. 

Harry was the place I went to heal my hurt, a place that always made me feel loved and welcome.

My heart was with Harry. 

Harry was my home. 

I didn't know what I'd done to deserve him, but he was too good to be true. He was perfect and he was mine. As I gazed into his eyes after the passionate night we shared, I felt the need to tell him. 

"How did I get so lucky?" I wondered aloud. 

Harry scoffed and took my hand into his, kissing each and every knuckle softly. 

Harry shook his head. "I'm the one who got lucky." 

I chuckled at the dual meaning his words held and nudged his shoulder playfully. Clearly he wasn't in the sentimental mood like I was. 

I collapsed on his chest and sprawled one arm around his middle, as Harry soothingly ran his fingers through my hair. 

"Can we lay here forever?" I asked, humming in appreciation of how amazing something as simple as lying with him could feel. 

Harry chuckled. "You know I'd like nothing more, but some of us actually have to work on Saturday's." 

I groaned and tightened my grip around him, not that my strength would come anywhere close to his.

We both looked at the bedside clock and sighed in disappointment. It was almost eight, which meant it was time for Harry to get ready for work. 

"I should get going, I need to go home and shower."  Harry made a move to get up and I opposed that notion by leaning all my weight on him and tilting us back into bed. 

"Babe," Harry sighed. "I've been late to work almost every day this week. I'm starting to set a bad example," he reasoned. 

At this point I was fully straddling him, looking down on him with the best puppy dog eyes I could pull off.  I knew it must have been doing something because I felt him harden under me.