It is what it is

13

ONE YEAR LATER.

Louis POV

"Harder Harry, ughhhhhh" I scream into the room.

Our sweaty bodies grinding together making me moan at the contact. It's so hot in the room and the smell of sex lingers in the air. Harry picks up his pace and I moan into his mouth as we sloppily kiss.

"You like that baby?" Harry's husky voice asks.

"Yeah....right there ughhhh" I practically scream Into the empty bedroom as Harry pounds my prostate over and over until I'm coming untouched all over my chest.

"Fuck" Harry yells as he also comes inside me, slowing down on his release.

He lays down on top of me as our breathing goes back to normal.

Harry and I have been sexually active and together officially for about 10 months now and I couldn't be happier. Harry is amazing and everything I could have asked for in a partner. I love him to death and we both have admitted so.

"Baby" Harry says, bringing me out of my post orgasim haze. He swipes my sweaty fringe off my forehead.

"Haz" I say back, my voice breaking causing a slight chuckle from Harry.

"You okay there beautiful?" He asks and I can hear the smirk in his voice.

"Yeah" I whisper, too out of it to care that Harry finds me amusing.

"Come on I'll make you breakfast" he says as he pulls me up.

I go lazily but my feet stumble and I loose my footing and fall into Harry, he catches me amused.

"Good one today hey?" He asks.

"Always good with you Haz" I say with a slight smile.

Harry kisses my forehead and wraps a protective arm around my waist.

"Go shower baby and I'll have breakfast waiting for you" he tells me.

I'm in no mood to argue as I slip out of his warm grip and make my way to the shower. Harry puts some boxers on and heads downstairs. I walk inside the fancy bathroom and stand in front of the mirror. My appearance has changed over the last year. I've now got jet black hair thanks to Zayn who chose the colour to dye my hair. I also have a piercing in my eyebrow. I look at the hickeys all over my body that Harry so possessively placed there, he loves marking me its one of his favourite things to do. And I secretly love it.

Over the last year we have travelled through four different country's. We resided in Ireland for a few weeks then Germany and Italy but the shield managed to find us each time, within a matter of weeks. So the boys made the decision to move across the world, currently we are in Seattle and we have been here for six months. No trace of the shield at all. We all live together in a huge penthouse overlooking the city, it's beautiful. I have become really close with all the guys too which is nice. They don't treat me like a little kid, yes they are extremely protective and I have a thousand rules to abide by when it comes to leaving the apartment, but they are my very very close friends I guess you could even call them brothers. I haven't had any contact with my family for the last 12 months and it's killing me, although I don't let it show to the boys. I just want to talk to them, just once, just to hear their voices again. I still have nightmares about the charity event and Charlotte getting shot, as well as William and Jeremy. They still haunt my dreams but I try my hardest not to let it affect me, to try and block the memories out. It doesn't always work though.

I sigh and continue on with my shower, when I'm done I dress in a pair of black skinny jeans and a tight grey T-Shirt. I have to head to uni this afternoon. So as not to raise suspicion of six guys living together in an apartment and to look as normal as possible, the boys enrolled me in university. I hate it and I loathe the study and assignments but I have to do it in order to appear normal. Our story is simple, I'm the misbehaving kid from London and has been sent to live with my older cousin (Andy) and his mates in the hopes they can steer me back on the right track of life. It's worked so far and no one has questioned our story. I'm supposed to lay low and not make many friends and just get by without causing to much attention. No one has recognised me at all, the American people don't really care to much about English politics and the Prime minister and his family. I'm thankful for that though.