It's You [H.S.]

3.3 | You & I

Granting his tongue access, she sighs into the kiss... Perfectly content, and with nowhere else she'd rather be than here in his arms.

>

Minutes later, it's him shifting in his seat. He pulls back and drops his forehead to hers, panting for breath. "We need to cool it", he groans. "I don't think locking you in a bedroom all night will go down well with the others".

With an eye to his tented yellow shorts, she pats his stomach, acquiescing. "I, umm-", she looks away, mumbling shyly, "I was wondering about the sleeping arrangements...?".

"God, Eloise! I would never put any pressure on you", he panics, worrying he must have come on too strong.

She looks back up at him with a roll of her eyes and a knowing smile. "H, of course I know that! And remember I'm the one who tried to proposition you after an innocent yoga class", she blushes.

"It wasn't that innocent, if I recall", he chuckles.

"I just meant there hadn't been any discussion about bedrooms", she clarifies. "Obviously all the Cordens.  And your mum and Gem. But that leaves Ben, Niall, and you, and me...".

"You and me?", he grins with a nudge to her shoulder.

"Alright, grammar police! Fine, you and I", she jokes, crystal clear on what he was inferring.

"I didn't want to push my luck by bringing it up", he admits. "With you, or Ben. He's been cool so far, but...", he trails off.

"Don't worry about him," she says trailing a finger on his thigh. "We caught up last night and again earlier. About all this...", she gestures between them, "And he's cool... I mean, do whatever you need to - you know, 'Bro Code' and all that - but don't stress".

"Yeah?", he says, hopefully.

"Yep", she says, popping the 'p'.

"You know, we've not done much of that that...", clarifying at her confused look, "Catching up".

"Well, someone's been too busy! Kissing, and touching and flirting", she says pointedly, playfully.

"Yeah, you've been a nightmare!", he sasses back, laughing at her immediate protest.

>

So they talk.

About the last six months.
About her juggling the toughest final term of university whilst finalising her script and securing representation.
About all the boys and everything that's been happening amidst the pressure of such a huge world tour.

They talk about what's next.
She's giving herself the summer off. Exhausted, but restless and excited.
About how almost all her favourite people are in California right now, and how maybe it's a sign. How she has three months to play it by ear before the US government kick her out on her tourist visa. She needs to be back in London by mid September for the Rugby World Cup, anyway.
Interesting, he can't help but mention. They're touring the US for the next two months. He doesn't ask her to join him outright; it's too soon to pile on that kind of pressure. But he floats the idea; asks her to imagine it.

They admit some secrets.
Turns out she really, really hates sand. So, yes, the volleyball incident was traumatic.
He shares one in return too. A big one. The hiatus. She listens intently, asking him how he's feeling. Awed by his openness and honesty, she feels herself falling that bit more for him.

They reveal the times they'd wanted to get in touch, but held back; to avoid being a bother, or coming on too strong.
He shyly admits he couldn't help but wonder if there had been anyone else since yoga night. She scoffs, as if anyone else stood a chance. Says she wouldn't ask him the same thing. She doesn't have to, he promises.