The Girl in the Mirror 2 (Harry Styles fanfic)

Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Sienna's POV

My eyes slowly open, just minutes of sleep have engulfed me. I can't sleep, not properly at least. My head hurts and my eyes sting from my lack of sleep, but as I focus on the person sleeping beside me none of that seems to matter.
My eyes graze over him, starting with his face, his perfect face. His soft pink lips are slightly parted, allowing him to breathe softly. I can feel his low breaths hitting the top of my head, reminding me this is happening, it is actually happening. My gaze continues upwards drifting past his perfect nose and his closed eyes, lavished with dark long eyelashes. I reach his head and his brown hair messily hangs down his face and lays across his pillow, beneath him. I never appreciated him, not in moments like this and now I am going to make sure I do. His shirt is hung over the back of a chair, leaving his torso bare. My eyes move down to his arm, tattoos covering it and it hangs over my waist. He hasn't moved his arm since we got into bed together, his grip is firm, but not in a dominant way. It's like he is holding onto me, making sure I will still be beside him when he wakes up.
I close my eyes, yet I still can't sleep. I have drifted in and out of sleep for the last few hours, but each time I have woken up in an almost panic. I woke up with my heart racing, terrified that he had left me again. I can't help thinking in my head that if I fall asleep, when I wake up he will be gone. I am terrified that this is all too good to be true, him being here. My stomach lunges with nerves and my chest feels tight with anxiety. I couldn't cope losing him again, I wouldn't be able to go through it again.
My heart keeps racing with every slight movement or noise he makes. I feel like I am obsessed with him, like my entire existence revolves around him. I know I am being far-fetched and I am bound to feel like this, we're just finding the balance of being back together. The more time I lay here though and he stays beside me, the more I start to feel complete again. The broken pieces of my heart have been recovered and he is in the processing of gluing them back together. He connects each broken piece every time he smiles at me, every time he touches me and every time he says he loves me. This time around he is holding the pieces in place, making sure the glue is set before he takes his secure touch away. He is making sure this time it doesn't break.
I just keep touching him, my fingers moving softly over his skin, reminding myself that he is real. I have dreamt of this moment so many times and I didn't believe it would ever happen again. It's like my head doesn't believe this is real, but my heart knows it is. My head is the rationale one, almost refusing to believe that he is here and that he loves me. He does though, he still loves me and I love him. I didn't know it was possible to love him or anyone more than I already did, but I've proven that I can. The love I have for him is indescribable, I can't even begin to tell you. I just know that I can feel it in every part of my body and it is the happiest, most sensual, fulfilling feeling I have ever had.
I genuinely didn't think this could happen again. I didn't think I could allow myself to show that I love him, not after all of the pain and hurt he caused me. I never thought he would be able to show me he still loves me either. I don't like the things we have done along the way, the many wrong paths we have taken. I never wanted to hurt anyone, but how can I regret them now when they have all led me back to him. I have somehow got him back and I know now after all the bullshit and lies, this is all I ever wanted. He was all I ever needed, things would have been easier if I had realised that when I first laid eyes on him in the airport, all that time ago. I have never made things easy for myself though, not until now. I know what I want now and what I need, it's all him. It's always been him.
I continue to move my fingers gently over his skin, drawing over the outline of his many tattoos. My fingers run softly over the words on his arm, the words he got for me. Those words remind me of a time when we were completely infatuated with each other. It was a simpler time, a time when we both knew we loved each other and that was all that mattered. I always knew as long as these words were still etched into his skin there was still something there, there was still love between us. We may have replaced the names of one another on our skin, but these words were the one that really meant something. These words gave me hope, something to hold onto, even when I thought he hated me.