The Pawns that Gleam [Bk 3]

ch.1 We

Trailer for KNIGHT on the right side>>>> 

Pic of Hangela from their wedding on the right. Barbara Palvin plays Angie. Credit @Hopinghighh

Twitter: @Atlantis094

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We lay there, entangled in each other's arms, like a pretzel from Auntie Anne's: salty and golden. We were terrified of letting go, even for a moment. We took breaths together, let our hearts beat in sync, our minds tune to form one thought, one idea. 

Saying "we" seems so strange, but now it's official. I belong to Harry and Harry belongs to me. There's no one in between our golden puzzle, no one to take our identities or toy with our hearts. 

There was a strangely blaring silence in the room, in the entire apartment, the castle. We were absolutely alone, but we were also jam packed.

Our hearts were screaming, crying that they were together once more. That they could touch each other again.

I looked up at Harry as he stroked my hair, my natural brunette hair, not the bottle-blonde that I had been transformed into just hours ago.

"Mr. Styles," I spoke quietly and added a smile for effect.

Harry laughed lightly. His Adam's apple vibrated gently, close to my cheek. 

"Mrs. Styles," he grinned, letting a dimple slip through. He lowered his head carefully, just enough to kiss my nose. (We were still horrified of letting go, even for the slightest second).

Harry looked down at my dress and he traced the lace of the sweetheart neckline slowly. I watched his eyes as he tried to memorize the intricacies of the lace.

"We never got to have our first dance," he whispered close to my ear.

"Good," I smiled happily. I can't dance with just Harry let alone in front of a room full of people had the wedding gone as planned.

Harry laughed lightly and let his hands wander down my waist, to my legs.

"Oh, come on," he grinned. He slipped those sneaky hands of his under the skirt of my dress and started tickling my legs. Thankfully, the dress was long and quite fitted so he couldn't go too far up.

I pushed at his chest and squirmed under his ever-tightening grip. He was determined to make me sqeual in laughter or laugh while trying to waltz with my two left feet.

"Please, Mrs. Styles," he whispered softly as he kissed down my neck.

I would have shaken my head and folded my arms over my chest in stubborn disapproval, but he had called me "Mrs.," he had given me his name and I softened like putty in his sturdy hands.

After how close I was to losing him, so many times over, I wanted to be Mrs. Styles for a thousand years to make up for every moment I feared losing Harry.

"Ok," I agreed and looked up at him.

He stood up slowly, patted his tie and held out his hand.

"May I have this dance, Mrs. Styles?" he asked with another sneaky grin.

I nodded "yes."

Harry took my hand gently in his and rested his other hand at my waist. He tugged me close with one swift pull and I rested a hand at his shoulder.

He took slow, even steps, trying not to complicate the quite simple and natural movement of dancing. Then he leaned lower and kissed my neck.

I looked up at him and we held each other's gaze. We held each other's names, each other's hearts, carefully, simply, but equally as powerfully. 

"I can still guide your body," he spoke in a hushed whisper.

I looked up at him.

He nodded.

I slipped my heels off and stepped on his shoes. He took more fluid steps now, carrying me along for the ride.

Harry moved a strand of my hair to the side. He smiled at the golden butterfly clasp that had caught his attention once before and had almost gotten him accused for burglary. But now, now it held my hair in place, something that seemed very tempting to meddle with- for Harry.

Harry tugged at the clasp with his teeth, making it slip down my back. He caught it in his hand and grinned as my hair loosened, falling over my shoulders like muddy vines. 

He let his fingers tangle in a few locks of my hair as if making up for not touching it enough before.

"Don't change your hair," he told me quietly. He scanned a strand in his finger, studying at the variance of brown hues. 

I looked up into his eyes. Then I reached for one of his curls.

"We match," I grinned and held his curl close to the strand of my hair that he held.

Harry shook his head.

I watched his expression with slight confusion.

"We have rough edges, we're cut and chipped at the ends. We were made that way. We fit each other," he corrected me softly.

I nodded slowly, watching his lips as they curled up in a grin.

"Like a puzzle," he smiled and he kissed my cheek, then down my neck and chest.

"Like a puzzle," I returned his smile. I leaned close to kiss his neck and tugged lightly at his tie to give my lips more skin to touch.

Harry let his lips travel back up my neck and cheeks until he reached my lips. He pressed softly. But his eyes watched my face intently. The green in his eyes spun around in circles, mixing with the grey, making space for the gold. 

He touched my cheek softly with his hand and focused on my lips first, then he moved on to my nose and finally, my eyes. It was like he was looking at me for the first time, for the first time that he could officially, legally call me his.

I traced his dimple with my finger and let my eyes wander from his lips to his round nostrils and to his eyes. His round, marble-like eyes that reminded me of globes, tiny worlds that I wanted to live.

Harry titled my chin up, making my gaze meet his and our lips reach close. Close, but not touching. 

Suddenly, as if having lost patience, Harry pressed his lips to mine, letting our tongues do the dance that my body clearly failed to do.

He grasped my dress in tight fists and pulled me against him.

I tugged at his collar, loosening his tie. He took it off, along with his shirt.

Then he slid his hands down my back, pulling the zipper of my dress all the while. He lifted me slightly and tugged the dress off carefully, but eagerly. 

I pushed at his chest and he fell back on the bed, pulling me down on top of him. He rested his hands at my waist, letting his fingers tease at the lace of my underwear before pulling down and pushing me under him.

Harry reached into the drawer, but then stopped himself midway. He laughed lightly and kissed my neck.

"We don't need a glove," he whispered close to my ear, letting his breath grow low and heavy.

I looked up at him and played with one of his curls, tugging his face closer.

“We just need love,” I grinned as if ‘love’ was a tangible entity. I didn’t even care if I sounded sappy or stupid; it was all true.

Harry nodded. He came slowly, delicately, like he was planting tiny pawns inside me, admiring his work with every touch.

We were skin to skin. We felt each other softly, quietly because our ears bled with each other’s bodies screaming, begging to me with one another. We were raw; no latex, no armor.

Just raw. Just the way He had made us to fit.