Broken Misery (H.Styles Fanfic)

Chapter 22

Warning Contains Sexual Content!

-Katexx

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Chapter 22

Previously on broken misery:

Harry's body suddenly goes still, almost inert, and then he whispers almost inaudibly, "Elena?" This time it's a question.

"Yes, God damn it."

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And he laughs. He laughs so hard, completely breathless and bending over, and I listen to the sound of his back sliding down against the wall. And because he laughs, I start laughing too. At first it's just a nervous laugh, my cheeks hurting from not wanting to stretch this much, but then as his laughter increases, mine changes in a full on laugh, stomach burning and all, and I spit the remainder of the toothpaste before laughing even more.

I don't really understand why we're laughing, technically under normal circumstances it would be an embarrassing moment, but really, when were we ever normal?

When our laughter finally dies down, Harry stays quiet in the back of the shower stall, his back against the window but still barely visible. I focus on his breathing to keep mine stable, the water falling quietly from the showerhead and just making enough sound to distract. "Don't go," he finally mumbles, dropping his head back against the glass.

His plea sounds more like a request, and before I know I'm sitting on the cold tiles with my back to his, the shower wall separating our bodies. He exhales a sigh and I wipe the beads of sweat building on my forehead from the heat of the steam and the nervousness. "Don't stop," I almost beg, and I hear him catch his breath.

Well, the mood changed fast.

"Are you sure?" he asks, his voice cracking.

I nod, but then I realize that he can't see me from the way we're sitting back to back. "I want you to keep going."

The faint noise of the shower conceals his movements but I can hear the slick glide of Harry's hand across his length in a quick pace, wet and sloppy. He shifts and readjusts himself, his hand never stopping, and once he find a comfortable position, a moan leaves his lips. "Do it too," he demands.

"Just you," I whisper, my breathing accelerating to match his. What the hell are we doing? "I miss this."

His speed quickens, the moisture of either him or the water, perhaps a mixture of both, echoing through the walls. I close my eyes and lean my head against the cold glass, a pleasurable pressure growing in between my legs. I squeeze my thighs to relieve it. "I need you, babe. Please, touch me."

I place my hand in my middle and apply a little bit of pressure. Not able to resist, I whimper at the sensitivity from not having done anything in a little while. With Harry in the house, I haven't had the guts to do it. "Your hand is mine, Haz," I breathe. "I want to touch you so bad."

"Fucking hell," he moans loudly, growling a little. My heart skips a beat at the huskiness of his voice. "Why did you have to leave me?"

His question takes me by surprise, but I know what he means behind it. "Harry, I didn't want to." I catch my breath as my fingers fumble over the seam of my leggings, heat radiating from my middle section. "You know it was better for both of us. I spent seven months thinking about you." I've told him this before, but I know he needs reassurance. He needs to know that no matter what, I cared and I still do.

Harry chuckles. "Promise me you'll never leave me again."

Promises. I could never break this one. "I can't leave you, Haz," I say breathlessly. "Why do you think I came back?"