Broken Misery (H.Styles Fanfic)

Chapter 31

Harry sighs. "You can stay for the rest of your life if you want, I don't quite care. I just want you to be happy, Elena. And if living somewhere else makes you happy then so be it, but please don't push me away."

I zip my suitcase once it's completely empty and lift it up on the top shelf inside the wardrobe. "I should've mentioned when I said that our relationship was over, it also meant our friendship." I hear another sigh but I don't turn around, he deserves this one. "Harry, can you help? Can't reach this-"

His chest is suddenly pressing against my back, his arms coming around me from behind to push the stubborn suitcase on the said shelf. His movement are slow and calculated, his fingertips pressing carefully on the rough material right next to where my hands are flat, still holding the luggage in the air. I could swear I hear him sniff my hair as he presses his chin against the top of my scalp, and I notice the goose bumps appearing on his forearms below the sleeves of his t-shirt.

I haven't been this close to him in days. I feel myself getting weak in the knees as I feel the heat radiating from his body against me, his hot breath on my head, and I find myself not wanting him to pull back. When the suitcase is safely secured on the shelf, I remove my hands and drop them at my sides slowly, watching Harry's slowly retreat his as well. Instead of dropping them, however, he catches my wrists and slips his long fingers in between my small ones, lowering his head to the crook of my neck and pressing his lips there.

"My biggest regret will always be not spending New Year's with you," he whispers against my skin, licking down my neck and to my shoulder. "And every other day before and since."

"Harry," I pant heavily, my eyelids fluttering at his touch. He drops butterfly kisses all over the skin my shirt allows him to expose, biting gently and then licking to soothe the skin there, to a point where I almost feel faint. "Harry."

"I'll stop when you tell me to."

Tears well up in the corners of my eyes because even if my head tells me to say the word, my heart isn't letting me speak. It's a fight of confusion between every limb in my body, because my knees are weak but I want to stand up to him, my eyes cry but I don't want him to think I'm giving in, and I squeeze his fingers instead of stopping him when he moves my bra strap aside with his nose for more skin exposure.

Suddenly, he removes his hands from mine and I think that maybe he's come to his senses, but he grabs my waist and spins me around so I face him. If I look at him in the eyes, all I'll see are those hauntingly beautiful green eyes and I'll start crying. Instead, I keep my eyes shut and suck in a deep breath when his cold fingertips press against my ribs under my shirt. They just skate there, doing circular motions and not daring to go up or down too much.

"Elena, look at me," Harry begs in a low, breathy voice. "I wanna see those pretty eyes of yours." I shake my head 'no' but make no attempt at moving away from him. I'm scared to actually speak to him in case he decides to pull away, I'm not sure how I'd hold up on my own without his support, both physically and emotionally. "I can't make you forget that night and I've got no good excuse for it, but I'm not gonna kiss you unless you look at me like you want it. I can't do that to you."

I mentally weigh the pros and cons, but my brain is unable to find any cons at the moment, from being too aroused by the testosterone Harry radiates. It takes all my strength to open my eyes. Such a small action exhausts me and a few tears roll down my cheeks involuntarily, but Harry catches them with his thumb without ever taking his eyes off of mine. Those green eyes are the same ones imprinted in my head, the ones I'm trying so hard to forget, but he certainly doesn't make it easy for me to. His eyes are glossy, too, covered in a thick coat of moisture that he clearly tries to push away.