Dream Writer » Larry AU

24: LIPS

A/N: In the words of Harry Styles himself, "Kissy." Here we go!

Harry,

I was never one to believe in magic. That was, until Louis' lips were on top of mine.

My body's reaction to Louis' angelically light touches bore resemblance to the glinting electricity conducting through a cable. Burning nerves bustled within my facial muscles, proceeded down and reached each and every remaining stem and limb. It was electricity, because it felt like fire. The cables that pumped through my body had been touched by his magic charisma, and as he kissed me, these cables seemed to glisten and burningly tickle my insides with bliss and hysteria.

Louis was magic, and he had put a spell on me.

His lips had been wet when they traced mine, which were equally as slippery in return. It had been the most gentle gesture, as if I'd been fragile as thin ice and he was trying his best not to break me. But once he'd decided to press harder, the arms he'd flung around my neck tightened and the warm breath he had been holding in slowly passed through his nostrils and fanned my damp philtrum.

Right that second, Louis pulled away. His eyes opened in tiny slits, allowing me to only catch a glimpse of the ocean blue underneath. "That nice?" he murmured.

Regardless of how much I would try, there was no simple word I could from to make up for what he had just done. Anything I would say would ruin it. This had been his time to shine, and even if he would've wanted, I wasn't going to steal it from him by mumbling a stupid reply.

Instead, I kissed him back.

At that, he grunted softly into the kiss, clearly taken by surprised by its harshness. So I softened the touch and finally felt him move against me in return.

At this point, the waterfall was no longer there. It was thunderingly loud, but I couldn't hear it. The two of us weren't even in the water anymore because we were flying. We were flying together, and he was clinging onto me for dear life, because if he'd let go, then maybe this moment were to expire, just like every remaining detail in our surroundings. Indeed, there was no cave, no cascade and no turquoise water. All there was, was Louis and I. And all I could think was:

I'm kissing him, I'm kissing him, I'm kissing him.

Louis,

I'm kissing him, I'm kissing him, I'm kissing him.

This isn't a dream, this isn't a dream, this isn't a dream.

This moment was roughly a carbon copy of Hollywood concept. But greater. Pluperfect! Because I was there, and I was living it.

Just as our lips moved artistically in sync, his palm fondled over the curve of my naked waist and mine secured around his dripping neck. The sole missing element was the tongue, which was briskily added once he parted his mouth and let his own wetly run past my momentarily passive lips. By the time our tongues had joined together and I was finally tasting him, Harry kissed me deeper, implanting the impeccable mixture of sweet and salt into my mouth.

How it felt was freakishly similar to how it had been in my dreams. But this time, it was real. And if warmth had been a flavour, that flavour would've been Harry's.

It wasn't merely the tempting physical warmth melting in my mouth. Likewise, it was the buoyant kind his kiss injected into my blistering veins. The rousing kind that swam within my blood and tingled in the tips of my fingers and toes.

This time, Harry was the one to split us apart. The boy was candidly staring, appearing dumbfounded, just like before.

To fuck with him, I inched daringly close and studied his swollen and newly kissed pair of lips, which were then parallel to my own. "You're a good kisser," I said.