No Matter What // Harry Styles AU -- Dunkirk inspired

Chapter Fifty Two

"You know Roses," he taunts, "I never fancied you for such a grouch in the mornings."

"I am not a grouch," I say firmly. "I'm a reasonable human being who deeply appreciates her sleep."

"Good grief!" he exclaims with his head tilted to the ceiling. "It's worse than I thought. She's in total denial!" I try to frown at him, but the light in his eyes makes it darn near impossible. "Roses, this really won't do," he adds seriously.

"I think it'll do just fine, thank you very much," I scoff with small chuckle.

"Can you believe it? I've gone off and fallen in love with a total and complete grouch," he professes, crawling on top of me. "What on earth is a lad to do?"

"You'll let me sleep if you know what's good for you," I threaten weakly. My heads to swept up in his casual profession.

Harry breathes in sharply between his teeth. "I don't think that'll cut it, Roses."

"But it will!" I giggle exasperatedly, drowsily throwing my arms around his shoulders.

"Nope," he sighs before fixing his gaze on mine. "I think we need something a little more... motivational."

A nervous little laugh escapes from my lips as he cocks an eyebrow at me. In a flash, Harry buries his face into the crook of my neck, showering me with a dozen kisses as his hands tickle me from their flurried movement. I laugh wildly, squirming underneath him.

"Stop!" I giggle uncontrollably. Harry pulls back, laughing just as hard as I do.

He smiles down at me, and breathlessly says, "You're so beautiful, Hazel."

I roll my eyes, well aware of what an unruly mess my hair typically takes on in the morning.

"I probably look like I've been hit by a bus," I chuckle, running my hands up his arm as he props himself up above me. I focus on the trail of goosebumps that follow my fingers as I cautiously journey across his entrancing skin.

"You're more beautiful than I ever seen you," he whispers. "You're a princess."

I bristle inside, hating how the words remind me of Jack and all of the parts of Gran's life that I don't care for.

"I don't want to be a princess," I say, still focusing on his arms.

"What do you want to be then?"

I consider the question for a moment, but only one thing comes to mind. Looking back up at him, I tell him my truth.

"I just want to be yours."

He stares at me for a moment, his eyes focused with sudden wild yearning. My heart flutters like a hummingbird and I'm suddenly overwhelmed by my need to feel his hands all over me again. Silently, Harry dips his head and presses his lips against mine for a brief kiss. When he pulls back, his eyes shine with a truth stronger than any words could capture. My heart threatens to burst or possibly fly away all together like a balloon caught in a windy park. Either way, I can't wait for him any longer.

Tilting my head up, I capture his mouth with my own as my fingers weave into his tousled mop of hair. A deep and voracious fire burns inside of me, fanning a desperation that can only be satisfied by knowing him, all of him.

My tongue runs along the his mouth, memorizing its shape and taste. Harry covers my body with his and in the swirling intoxication, open my legs for him to lie between my hips. The firm sensation of his body wrapped up in mine, shocks my brain back into focus at the same time it does for him.

"We should stop," we rush in unison.

Harry falls over onto his back, holding up a weak thumbs up as he stammers, "Yep."