FINE LINE | HARRY STYLES

ELEVEN.

I can't handle him.

"That's what they want you to think." He replies.

We step into his room, and I take a look around as he searches for a towel. There are candles piled in the corner and sure enough, he did change his sheets.

I can only assume he cleaned everything up when he found out about me.

"Here you go." Harry hands me the towel.

I thank him and head into his bathroom, placing everything down on the toilet seat. In the mirror, I notice him taking his shirt and pants off before crawling onto his bed.

He lands face first, his eyes fluttering shut.

I grin to myself before shutting the door and turning the shower on.

I climb inside and let the warm water cascade down my body. I notice the water around the drain turns into a sort of reddish color. My stomach churns a bit.

I look for shampoo, finding an all too familiar bottle.

He bought my favorite shampoo and conditioner.

I only like it because he does. Nothing drives him crazier than when my hair smells like vanilla.

I use that but use his body wash, wanting him to be as close to me as possible. Even when he's in the other room.

After I'm done, I turn the water off and step out. I dry off and change into one of his shirts and a fresh pair of underwear.

In the bedroom, Harry hadn't moved. He remains face down on the pillow. His chest moves up and down slowly.

I tip toe toward the bed and lie down next to him. This wakes him up and he turns to his side to look at me. He's smiling widely.

I smile back, poking the dimple on his face. He pretends to bite my finger and I laugh.

I lean back for a moment, admiring him. His hair's so messy and he looks so tired. He's lying there in his boxers, his tattoos exposed under the light of his room.

I swallow hard and trail my eyes down his body.

"No." He says, lifting my chin to meet his eyes.

"No what?" I sheepishly grin.

"I see those eyes. They're up to no good."

"What's wrong with that?" I tease, pushing him onto his back.

"Everything." He huffs as I slowly begin to straddle him.

I hear a low groan bubble up in his throat as I sit down on his groin. His hands automatically land on my thighs, gripping them gently yet firm enough to never let me go.

"Oh come on." I smirk, running my hands down his chest.

"You're sore. We should wait." He warns.

"You act like you haven't left me sore before. And guess what happens the next day? The same thing."

He rolls his head back and sighs.

"You are going to be the death of me." He says as his hands slide up the shirt on me.

"Is that such a bad thing?"

His hand trails up my body, "No, because I'd die for you, sunlight."

I grin as he slips his fingers down my underwear, opening me up. I tilt my head back, letting out a soft moan as he sits up to kiss my neck.

He pulls his shirt off of me and pushes me against the bed gently. I look up at him, my eyes full of hesitance. I didn't realize how bruised up I was until he looked at me.

He's not staring in judgement. It's more of curiosity. He's using his fingers to trace down my body, sending shivers down my spine.

I can see it all in his eyes.

I almost died.

When he lets me pull his boxers down so early, I know foreplay isn't an option. I almost died and he knows that. He needs me. Frankly, I'm glad because I need him just as much.

I brace myself as he pulls my underwear down, lining himself up with me. He places his hands above my head and pushes into me as slow as possible.

I'll admit, it did hurt. Not because he was being rough or careless, in fact he was quite the opposite. My body was on fire and ached so bad. He knew that.

I guess sex is a lot more meaningful and intimate when there's near death experience. It puts it in perspective.

He's going slow and steady. So gentle yet full of passion.

He's looking into my eyes, pushing my wet hair out of my eyes as I hold onto his back. I arch up into him, burying my face in his shoulder and I dig my nails into his skin.

I let out a string of moans when I hear him groan into my ear. It gets me every time.

We pant almost in sync, as he starts to quicken his pace. At this point, I don't even care. I don't tell him to slow down because I'm at a high and I trust him.

He wraps his arms around me and I throw my legs around his waist, pushing my body against his. I bite into his shoulder and he grunts, going faster.

If this bed were cheap, it'd be in half by now.

"Fuck...Harry." I whisper, feeling myself tighten around him.

His hips jerk in response as he continues at the fast pace he's at.

I throw my head back and breathlessly moan, feeling my entire body relax as it releases every emotion inside. He follows not long after, his pace slowing down.

He pants heavily as we both collapse into the bed. I press my sticky forehead against his and shut my eyes. We regain our breath before he finally pulls out and he rolls over beside me.

I curl up beside him, letting him hold me. I don't notice at first, but tears are rolling down my cheeks. I kind of feel stupid for crying after sex but I'll give myself a pass this time.

Because he doesn't seem to care. I know he understands. So, he just holds me and wipes them all away.

I love him.

***

Me: I'm gonna focus on one book.

Also me: Ok but what if I started another one