Incandescent | H.S

Part Seven: Raging Hangovers & Reticent Habits

You slowly blinked your tired eyes awake with a much-needed stretch of your stiff body. You lifted your head, feeling the surface beneath it was harder and warmer than a pillow.

Upon investigating, you realised it was Harry's bare chest. It was rising softly with each breath he took. His arms were still wrapped around you his, long eyelashes brushed the tops of his cheeks and his berry coloured lips were parted. It was then you remembered the night before, more so the tail end of it. And with that remembrance, you felt how dehydrated you were and how much your head was throbbing.

You laid it back to Harry's skin with a groan and burrowing your face into him. Flashes of his lips danced behind your eyelids; his tongue teasing yours, his hands nipping at your hips, his excitement pressing against your center as you straddled him.

His words.

I want you so much

I can't stop thinking about you

What you'd feel like

Taste like

You wondered how much he remembered from the night, understanding how drunk and high he was and you felt a pang of guilt because while you were also very out of it, you were in more control of the situation than he was.

You were nervous for him to wake up and push you away from him and demand to know what had happened the night before and why you were in bed together (which wasn't abnormal for you) but why you were in bed together half-naked.

You wanted to stay tucked away with him and forget about it. Start fresh and get back to your simplistic harmony with him.

You nestled deeper into his warmth and he stirred beneath you, reaching over in his sleep and pulling your leg over his hips. His hand melted into a squeeze and his thumb started to stroke your skin and you realised he was very much awake and not pushing you away but instead choosing to show you affection. Maybe he did remember and he'd pepper you with kisses.

Your gaze lifted to look up at him and he smiled warmly and squeezed you into a tight hug.

"Morning," His voice was gravelly and the texture of it pulled at your senses.

"Hi," You were cautious, waiting for him to bring up whatever he remembered about your night.

Harry's head was a throbbing mess. He'd had many comedowns in his time and he could tell even in his first few seconds of consciousness that this one was going to be a killer.

You slowly sat up and caught his eyes scanning your body. You were suddenly very aware of how bare you were and the bravery from last night had worn off as you looked down at his chest.

"Feel like I'm dyin," He rasped, moving his hands from your skin to rub at his eyes.

"Yep, definitely not looking forward to catching a flight in this state."

Your comment twanged in his stomach at the realisation you'd be heading back to London that day while he was there for another few days. He dreaded the time without you as always and even more this time around. He felt this separation would be harder.

"Just stay here," He shrugged and stretched his lean body casually as if he hadn't just said something that made you long for him.

"Mm, I'd love that."

His arms encased you again and you rested on his chest, fingertips tracing the ink on his inner bicep.

"So what happened last night?"