the writer // harry styles au

chapter 38

Alexis

The warm touch of Harry's hand in mine feels like it's the only thing I've wanted for months. Just this simple, caring touch that warms my body even as the cold air flushes against my skin, which is way too exposed. I know I crave more than just the feel of his hand in mine, but it seems to fill some sort of void, makes me feel more at comfort. I want him to take me to his house, never lets his body not be on mine. I'm being indecent, I'm cheating. I'd always thought of myself as someone who would never do this. I hated hearing my friends talk about cheating stories, it disgusted me. But now I'm the disgusting one, wanting someone other than my fianceés body one mine, fucking me like no one has before.

There's this rush I get when I'm with Harry. It's not adrenaline, although that would be the go to feeling. I know what it is, and it's so hard to admit to myself, just like admitting that I'm a cheater. The rush moves through my body each time I see Harry, each time I kiss Harry, each time I think of Harry. It fills my heart with something I know everyone in the world wants, even if they won't admit it.

Harry's love is the type I never thought I'd experience, never thought existed. It's like it fills an empty yourself you never thought you had. It's a warming, a comforting, a dream. My body feels cherished, my mind feels challenged, and my soul belongs. You don't need to tell someone you're theirs, they'll know. The way you touch them, thorugh the decisions you make, through the way yours eyes look at them, and maybe the way your hand searches blindly for theirs in the midst of a crowd, just needing the feel of them for comfort.

Our situation over the past year has been ridiculous. I've gone to him, left him, been hung up on him. I don't know why I do this, why I let myself leave who I clearly love. I know, previously, I've tried to trick myself, saying it's the right thing to do, staying with Will; saying Harry never really loved me was a reoccuring one too. But I'm going to follow what I want now. I won't let anything stop me from going with Harry and letting him be mine.

"Lex," I hear Harry call. He's only a foot in front of me, but I can barely hear him yell my nickname over the sound of the crowd.

"Yeah?" I yell back. He tugs me into his body more, letting my back hit his front.

He ushers me to the right as we almost waddle forward towards his car. He hotly whispers in my ear, saying, "You ready for this? I'm not going to let you forget tonight."

A shiver run downs my spine because yeah, I'm ready for this, ready to be skin to skin with him all night before I have to be anywhere.

"Get me home and under you. Now, please," I say. And seconds later, he's rushing me into his car and running - sprinting - around to the drivers seat.

***

We stand outside his front door. The cold doesn't bother us, because nothing but being so close to each other, letting out hand roam each other's bodies freely, softly and gently, matters. There's this feeling that I know both of us are comsumed by right now. We want to go inside, feel every inch of each others bare skin, but we also don't want to move from this postion we've found ourselves stuck in for however long it's been.

Harry slowly drops one of his hands from my cheek. It winds around until his finger tips are at the tip of my spine. He runs his hand down slowly. It feels like every nerve in my body is igniting. If I didn't have goosebumps from the cold before, from this action I must have now. His fingers eventually find their way to the bottom of my spine and he removes it from my skin. I want to whine at his action, beg him to continue the action, but when I hear his keys, I know he's ready for more than soft, loving touches.

When I step inside, I dare look over at where I had last seen Harry, staring at me wide-eyed and clutching his face. I don't want to remember the stupid thing I did, leaving him there hurting; I just didn't know what Will would do in the instance if I left him. I never wanted to be the cowardly woman who stayed with a man because she was scared of the consequences. I always told myself when I wad younger to always follow my gut, no matter what the collateral damage was. Having my life in a secure vantage seem pointless if I were uncomfortable. I should always want comfort.

I remember being 14 and stil not having kissed a boy, unlike other girls at school - including Jess. I had met a guy, through mutual friends, and he'd expressed an interest in me and said he would be my first kiss. Although, he didn't reallt say it. It was through an IM chat. I was always one for reading people - assesing situations - but over IM you have no idea what they look like, whether they genuinely care or just want to add another girl to their spankback.

I'd had this uncomft just sitting at the bottom of my stomach, pulling and pulling. Everytime I thought of him kissing me, or touching me, the pull grew stronger. I hated it, feeling uncomfortable, so I made the decision to always choose comfort over the expectation. Just because he called me pretty and showed an interest doesn't mean he should kiss me. It never should.

I feel Harry's warm, hard front against my back. I press back into him, humming with the warmth of happiness that seems to spread through me. Harry moves my hair from the right side of my head, exposing the length of my neck to him. I feel his lips delicatly peck behind my ear and then a little but further down, and further down again until her found himself by the material of my dress. His hands ran up my sides, and eventually rested on the zipper on my back. He pulled it down, following with his lips down my back.

His hands came back up and pushed the dress off my shoulders roughly. He tugged it down my body urgentl. He moaned as his hands felt my curves while pushing the dress down. I felt sexy when he acted like this, rough, almost dominating. I wanted his rough hands grabbing, pinching, grazing every part of my body tonight. I want to see him take every move I make in. I want to see him so turned on that he can't wait to confide in me, and he just has to get his boxers off and fuck me until we're so tired it's hard to breath.

He spins me around and steps back. He drinks me in. His eyes graze so teasingly over my body. He's not just looking at my chest or my panties; he's looking at my toes and my kness, my elbows and my fingertips. I feel well and truly adored.

"You're not leaving my bed," he starts, stalking forward, "until i've kissed every square inch of you." I felt my body shiver. "And I'm not leaving my bed until I know you love me."

At this point, I usually would have frozen, having heard a guy say he loves me, but I'm going to say it back. I'll say it to him all night, every chance I get.

"I do love you, Harry." I see his face flash with relief, but only for a brief few seconds. He puts back on his game face, but assures me with a nod that he knows how I feel.

He places his hands parralel to each other on my chest, just above my breasts. He runs them flatly up my skin until they're inbedded in my hair, gripping. His body is pressed flush to mine. None of his skin is bare like mine is. Even with his clothes on, his heat radiates off him like he's the sun and I'm desperate for warmth. He pulls my head towards his, angling it to meet his eyeline. His head is looking down at me with all this passion I've never seen before. His breathing is heavy, like he's nervous to kiss me.

He's not, though. Seconds later his mouth is pressing so desprerately on mine like I'm what's giving him life, letting him breath. Because we truly do survive off each other. Each time I saw Harry before this day was like a little bit of light was entering my life again. A little bit every so often would keep me more alive then the blood that's running through my veins seems to be.

Our lips are moving faster and greedier against each other than they ever have before. I'm so sure Harry's going to push me up against a wall and I'll accidentally smash through and ten thousand dollar painting. It's passion like this that makes me not feel so bad about all those times I turned down a guy because it didn't feel right. I waited for someone that made my stomach turn in the most delicious way it ever has, that makes my heart, so traditionally, skip a beat each time I see his perfect face. I'm so happy I found the one, but I'm so mad I'm not with him like I should be.

Harry's hands eventually stop wandering so much and make their way to my upper thigh. He hoists me up around his hips and pulls his perfect lips from mine. I look right infront of me and am hit with a sense of belonging, one I've wanted to feel for so long.

I'm ready for this, and I'll do whatever it takes to keep it.

(A/N: heyy guys oh my god! an update! i'm so sorry it's been so long, i'm just trying to write the best stuff for you guys! please vote and comment, it means the absolute world to me! ciao, my lovelies xxxx)