It's You [H.S.]

9.2 | All yours

19th September 2017

Disorientated to wake up in yet another unfamiliar hotel bed, Eloise squints as she shifts to face away from the soft sunlight streaming though the edge of the curtain.

For just a split second, she'd forgotten about Harry. Well, about yesterday at least.

But as she peeks an eye open she can't help but beam brightly at seeing him smiling softly down at her. The shaft of light catches his face and gives his eyes that brilliantly clear, pistachio green look. They twinkle playfully as she comes to.

Despite her jet lag, he'd awoken first, but watching her sleep had proved just the tonic to help soothe and quieten his mind a bit, already nervous and jittery for tonight.

She lays on her stomach with one arm and leg bent up as if she was reaching towards him in her sleep. With her other arm hooked under her pillow, she burrows deeper as he reaches a gentle hand to her shoulder to drape her hair over her back.

It's as if his fingers become magnets; once he's touched her, he can't quite seem to prise them away. They drift to her lower back, exposed with the sheet bunched at her hips, and trail slowly like a whisper up the groove of her spine.

Squirming at his teasing touch, she lets out a pathetic mewl and lays a hand to her neck, which had been twisted awkwardly.

His hand glides up to swat hers away, strong fingers massaging gently.

As her hips start writhing under his attention, he chuckles and she nudges him off before she gets too distracted. Shifting on to her right side to face him, she unwittingly blocks his view of her chest with her left arm as she tucks her hand under her pillow.

Misreading his frown, she reaches her other to his forearm, raking her nails lightly up the sensitive underside, swirling patterns as she writes secret letters against his skin. He shivers more than once at the gently grounding attention.

"What are you awake so early for?", she whispers. "You've got your thinking face on". The crease between his eyebrows is always a dead giveaway.

"Hmm, just how pretty you are", he grins soppily, leaning down to nuzzle a kiss to her open palm.

She rolls her eyes playfully at his predictable response. "Nice try... No, really?".

Giving in when she levels his squinty look right back at him, he admits lowly, "Well, I guess I am also thinking about tonight...".

Rolling on to his back he huffs a deep breath through his nose. She shifts closer and intertwines their hands, which he pulls to his lips again for a distracted kiss, before dropping them to his chest, still holding tight.

The steady thump of his heart is as grounding and reassuring as ever. He's here. He's hers.

She rubs his thumb in encouragement, silently willing him to open up.

Lolling his head on the pillow towards her he sighs again before looking back to trace the elaborate ceiling mouldings.

"It's just me... It's all on me", he admits quietly, "I'm definitely feeling the pressure". Once he's started talking, he can't seem to stop, and soon gets on to hypotheticals.

"What if I can't command the stage enough and the fans get bored?".

"Impossible, you're a true showman and born frontman if ever I've seen one. They'll be beside themselves with excitement. They already love you, H!".

"Well, what if my wrist doesn't hold up?". He flexes it gently.

"Well, then you'll put your guitar down and focus on singing, and I guess Tom would step in and play all your parts instead?".