It's You [H.S.]

3.3 | You & I

4th July 2015 (continued)

"Ugh, I have sand in wildly inappropriate places", Gemma grumbles as she makes her way back to the steps from their impromptu beach volleyball court. Anne and Julia laugh from their vantage point up at the edge of the fire pit.

"You do?! At least you bloody won!", Eloise whines, trying to shove a giggling Harry off from on top of her. The epic last match point had gone awry and somehow ended up with them sprawled under the net. And they were supposedly on the same team.

"No one likes a sore loser, Lolly Pop!", Ben gloats as Niall and James barrel past him, shotgunning first dibs on the showers. "H, come on, I'm trying to be cool about all this, but can you at least not molest her in public?", Ben jokes. Sort of.

>

When Harry finally rolls off, jumping to his feet to pull her up, she casts her eyes over him, then down at herself, with a grimace. They're literally covered in sand.

He just chuckles and unties his bandana. Shaking it out, he steps closer to start brushing her down; intently focused on doing a very, very thorough job.

Keeping her eyes on his face, she feels herself turning gooey at his focus; tongue slightly poking out the corner of his mouth in concentration, as gentle hands manoeuvre her this way and that.

She laughs as he makes a play of slut dropping down to his haunches, keeping a hand on the back of her thigh for balance as he runs the bandana up and down her long legs. He looks up at her with a satisfied cheeky grin.

She rolls her eyes, pops a hip and holds out a hand for the bandana he's shaking out. "Go on, then", exasperatedly, eagerly.

Now it's his turn to stare as she moves the cotton over him. Swiping and smoothing.

It's her first time properly seeing all his ink up close, and she's fascinated. She can't help but trail her fingers across the butterfly tattoo once it's revealed to her.

His abs tense at the touch, a gasp leaving his lips. "That'll do". He steps in to her and drops a kiss to her forehead, hushing her protest that she's not finished. "Your brother will castrate me".

He swipes the pad of his thumb over some sand he'd missed at her hairline. Her fingers ghost his before running a hand through her hair to her very messily undone bun. She wails at the feeling of all the sand against her scalp.

>

The pool deck is empty when they make it to the top of the stairs from the beach. A glance upward reveals lights on in all the bedrooms. "Bastards", he huffs under his breath, changing tack to lead her over to the cushioned fire pit.

He sits close and rests one arm behind her back, the other drawing circles on her bent knee. She twists to snuggle into his side and toys with the fingers draped over her shoulder.

"God, I love it here", she says, looking out over the long stretch of beach.

"So beautiful", he says wistfully.

Looking up at his tone to find him already looking down at her, she squirms and buries her head into his chest.

At feeling his lips against the nape of her neck, huffing a soft chuckle before pressing a gentle kiss, she braves a look back up at him. "Today's been wonderful".

"It has", he agrees, "And it's not over yet...".

He lifts his hand from her knee to her jaw, and angles her head to his.

They've snatched the odd kiss here and there today, but this is the first time it feels like they have time.  And no audience.

She shifts her hips and pulls him closer, angling his longer torso over hers.