Through The Dark || Harry Styles

29. LUCY

LUCY

The air still holds the remnants of dinner; vegetables roasting and mushrooms sautéing, Harry hovering over me, pinching at my hips and stealing bites with a hum, taste testing the creamy sauce and licking his lips before pressing them into mine.

After a small protest, he convinced me to eat with our bowls in hand and crossed-legged on the couch. And he returned the favour by listening to my million horse related questions, some he was able to answer and others he had to look up, but he never let my mind be left without closure for too long.

He won yet another game of Scrabble after dinner and as awful as I am at it, there is something about watching Harry's play, observing how his mind works and discovering tiny new ways in which he thinks and processes and analyzes, that makes losing completely worth it.

The concentration and pensiveness displayed all over his face is kind of adorable and the smirk that slowly creeps up while he tries to keep his cockiness in check is more amusing than whatever word he easily beats me with.

Today has been relaxing, but the night even more so.

Harry has retreated to lying on the couch with Lola is in his lap, the open fire glowing a warm halo around the room. He flicks the page of his book, oblivious to my staring and there is something so domestic and comfortable about the scene in front of me that it tugs roughly on my chest; like a niggling ache from an old injury that time hasn't been able to fully heal.

Putting my own book on the coffee table, I turn my body towards the gorgeous man, sprawled out, his fluffy socks pulled over his jeans and his fingertips playing absentmindedly with his soft curls.

His eyes dart to mine, his lips perfectly pouted and I surprise myself when I crawl towards him, my body laying next to Lola's and my head resting on Harry's chest.

I can feel him hold his breath, no doubt contemplating what the hell I'm doing so close by choice.

Leaning down, he places a kiss to the top of my head, holding his book up higher between his thumb and pinky and his other fingers move to twirl the ends of my hair instead of his.

"You okay?" he checks that my mind isn't wandering too far down any dark path.

"Yeah. Relaxing."

"Who would have thought?" he jokes and I swat his chest.

We lay like this for a while, my hand and head rising with each of his steady breaths, the sound of his pulse in my ear and the smoke from the fire making his cologne smell even more masculine and woody.

I shuffle a bit, starting to become uncomfortable as my mind drifts without deliberate distraction.

"Why don't you run a bath?" Harry's voice is croaky from the extended silence.

"Are you trying to get rid of me?" I tease.

"No," he chuckles. "The exact opposite."  

I smile against his sweatshirt.

"Does sound kind of nice," I admit, pulling myself up but he leans forward to hold the back of my neck, kissing me softly before nudging the tip of my nose with his.

"Thanks for the snuggle," he whispers and I think I feel my face blush.

The tiles are cold beneath my feet as I strip down, the water rushing from the old brass tap into the huge freestanding tub and I rummage through the cupboards until I find what I'm looking for.

Flicking the top off the bottle, I breathe in the scent of lavender and chamomile before tipping a generous amount into the water and watching the soapy bubbles build up like a calming blanket across the surface.

The water is on the brink of being scalding but I ease myself in anyway, inch by inch until I'm settled down with the bubbles surrounding me and my eyes closed. My muscles melt into the warmth and I take a deep breath, embracing the rare moment of peace of mind.

As much as I enjoy Harry's company, I also need time alone to recharge. And as he sits in the other room, quietly and happily reading his book, he seems to need the same thing.

I was worried that accepting to go away with him this weekend would lead to feeling pressured into things I'm not yet ready for. But there's been no indication from him since we got here that this getaway was for anything other than just unwinding.

I'm sure he wouldn't say no if I suggested rolling around in bed all day and night, but it definitely doesn't seem to be his only intention.

It's reassuring.

Or maybe I'm setting myself up for more pain?

My mind drifts as my body adjusts to the temperature, my head resting along the porcelain edge and I dangerously start to wonder what I'd be doing if Jake was still alive.

The sad thing is, I'd probably be sitting at home, worried about where he was while he spent his Saturday night drinking with his work colleagues. I would have bitten my tongue when he'd come home smelling like more than just a bar, but I wouldn't question it.

I never openly faced the truth because the reality was too clear and too painful.

Sometimes he'd come home and whisper in my ear, nudge me awake and take me on my hands and knees but I'd let him, hoping that I was enough.

Why wasn't I enough?

A hot tear trickles down my cheek and dissolves into the bubbles that cover my chest.

Perspective is a funny thing and with a step back and a clear head, everything looks different.

I'm starting to see the forest from the trees but, is it okay to see things with the 20/20 vision of hindsight, or is that tarnishing all the good memories Jake and I had?

I did love him. I'm not easy to be with and he handled me the best he could. I want to believe that he loved me too, but lately, I've been thinking that, maybe I'm wrong.

It hurts less than it used to.

"Luce?"

Harry's voice cuts through the air as he checks on me and he taps a knuckle lightly from the other side of the door.

"Hey," I answer, the jumbled thoughts in my head suddenly becoming clearer. "You can come in."

The thick layer of bubbles sits high on my chest and covers everything he's already seen.

"Hey," he cautiously peeks his head around the frame of the door and smiles, the dark becoming a little lighter. "You turned into a fish yet?"

"Hmm, maybe a mermaid."

His sweet laugh makes me giggle, his hair messy and eyes soft as he leans against the bathroom sink with crossed arms in front of his chest.

"Does that make me the prince?"

I almost say something about true love, but stop myself in time.

"Guess so. You have the hair for it."

He bites into his bottom lip to stifle his bashful smile.

Pushing off the countertop he leans down to give me a swift kiss, my lips slippery against his.

"I'm far too aware of you being naked and wet under there," he whispers, his dimple popping in his cheek. "Take your time, Lola and I will be out there waiting for you."

A/N:

Sorry for the wait my loves!
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What do you think about how Lucy is looking back at her marriage ?

See you soon
Love Ruby
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