The numbness followed me back to Las Vegas. That deep, dark feeling that sat on the bottom of my stomach, followed me on the plan ride home, and I wondered if this was what it was going to be like for the rest of my life, or if my brain was still trying to process what had happened to Harry.
I was thankful that we didn't need to drive home. Louis had done whatever black fucking magic he did, and we were suddenly allowed to fly home without even a hiccup at the airport. I didn't want to question it, I was fearful of the answer I would get. Fearful that there was something worse about Louis that was lurking behind the surface.
I wondered how it was all suddenly so easy, that Harry seemed rather relaxed that he didn't need to keep an eye out for his old boss. It made me uncomfortable though I didn't question it. This was all too much and I thought that if I allowed any more information into my head about the dark world Harry was in, I might lose my mind completely.
All I knew, and all I wanted to believe, was that Harry belonged to a group of men who held too much power, who held too much darkness in their souls and should have never been granted such dominance in a world where war got you further up the food chain, and I was suddenly wrapped in it.
It was close to midnight when we arrived back at Harry's apartment. A sickling silence filled the room as we walked in, and I had to blink away the memories of the last time I was here. How I was escorted in unconscious, bounded at the wrists.
"Are you okay?" Harrys soft voice filtered through the air, pulling me away from my darkening thoughts.
He dropped his bag near the couch, wincing slightly as he sat down. The bruising of his body had gotten worse from last night, and I could tell he was struggling to even breath properly. He had practically knocked himself out with painkillers on the short plane ride here, and I was surprised he wasn't slurring his words right now. He had taken enough to knock out a fucking cow, yet now seemed to be alert as ever.
"I'll be okay," I said with a shrug. I didn't want to draw attention to my mood, because if I did, I would have to actually speak about what I was feeling and acknowledge that it was all becoming too real for me.
Harry eyed me closely, lip pulling between his teeth as he did. "Which means you're not okay right now. Come here."
I did as I was told, shuffling towards Harry until I was seated on the armchair of his couch. His bruised knuckles reached out to brush against the fabric of my shirt, wrapping around my wrist until he tugged me down. He moved himself back, allowing room for me to straddle his waist, arms wrapping around my waist, as if this was the most comfortable position in the world for him. He didn't seem bothered as my knees nudged his sides. He only held me tighter.
"Talk to me," he urged with a softness in his voice that was hard to say no too. I took a deep breath, my eyes dropping down to where my knees touched the sides of his waist.
My mind was rattling like it was running loose in the middle of a storm. I felt as if I couldn't hold anything down. "Do I really make the voices quiet for you?" I asked him.
I gave into the demand to touch him, my fingers running over the material of his thin shirt, before they travelled across his exposed collarbone. He shivered at my slight touch, though mad no move to pull me away from him.
"You do," he confirmed, a frown pulling at his lips as he studied me. "You make me feel as if I can breath again. The voices turn into a dull hum when you're around."
It sounded so poetic falling from his lips, it almost made me forget how truly dangerous that was. How truly lethal that would be for anyone around Harry if I was to ever leave. "You don't think that's dangerous?" I asked him, voicing my thoughts.
His fingertips brushed under my shirt, teasing my skin. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip as he thought about my question. "No," he said honestly.
I blew out a breath, my gaze stuck on a bruise peaking out from his shirt. "I think...I still think it would be good for you see a therapist, Harry. Someone who can help you control your thoughts all the time, even when I'm not around."
His next breath sounded slightly ragged. "I don't want to do that."
"You're putting your life, your mental health in the hands of someone you barely know," I argued with him, my heart feeling heavy at the responsibility he was giving me. "You're okay with that?"
His fingertips danced across my skin as he thought. "I think I am," he replied, clearing his throat.
I wasn't convinced. How someone could have so much trust in another, I didn't understand. I wasn't about to argue with him though, because I had a feeling Harry wasn't about to see reason. He was too caught up in the idea that I was his saving grace, that he wouldn't see the reality of things. I dropped the subject, opting to shake my head and close the distance between us instead to lay my head on his shoulder. I allowed the sense of comfort to swarm my body like a million butterflies.
"Isn't this hurting you?" I asked against his neck, breathing in deeply.
"Little pain doesn't bother me," he replied, wiggling his hips against me as if he was proving a point. He pressed a soft kiss to the side of my head, his hands drifting down the length of my spine. It was comforting, and my body seemed to melt along with it.
We sat there in the silence, his arms running down my back like that was where they belonged. I hadn't felt this sort of comfort in a long time, and I felt like every time I was brought into the arms of Harry, I was welcomed with a new sense of contentment. He had something in his touch that made me feel okay.
My mind felt like it was slowing in speed, the thoughts settling and my mind clearing as we continued to lay there, pressed against each other. I moved my owns hands down the length of his arm, feeling his muscles relax against me.
For a moment, what we were doing almost felt normal. Almost as if we were a normal pair, doing normal things. If only life was that simple though.
"Are you tired?" I asked him softly. "I think you should get some sleep, Harry. You're probably so sore."
I pulled away to get a better look at him, brushing a few stray hairs out of his face as I did. A frown touched his lips when I moved away.
"Are you going to stay over?" He asked, his hands stilling on my back.
I hadn't really thought about going home, strangely enough. I should have though, and it sent a shiver of panic through my body when I realised I would of preferred to stay with Harry than go to my own apartment that wasn't that far away.
"Yeah, I'll-I'll stay."
I climbed off his lap, allowing him to stand, watching him wince as he did. "I'll get you some more painkillers and a glass of water," I told him, holding my hand to help him.
He grasped my palm, tugging me closer until he could wrap his arms around my waist. He peered down at me, smiling at me, soft and sweet.
"Thank you," he whispered, clearing his throat. "I appreciate it, Sophia."
My name still sounded foreign on his lips. I was so use to him calling me Spice, that I was almost confused to hear it. Either way, it made my heart thump as if I was a twelve years old. I offered him a smile before he turned and made his way in the darkness towards his room. I waited until he shut the door behind him to make my way to his kitchen.
I took my time, allowing myself to get familiar with the marble countertops and found myself peaking into draws and cupboards, as if it would give me a deeper inside into Harry's life. It didn't. Everything was pretty much bare, only the bare necessities stocked. Things that couldn't expire.
Once I found the glasses and his backup stock of medication, I wandered a little closer to the windows. The floor to ceiling windows that led out to the balcony were breathtaking at night.
I stared out at the city lights, allowing the beads of light to illuminate my skin. I could see Midnight Blues from where I was, though it was nothing more than a blinking light in the distance. I could see the general direction of where my own apartment was, and I could pinpoint the areas that had my memories painted across them.
How different the world looked from all the way up here. What a pity it would be to fall from such a great height.
—
"Can I ask you something?" I asked, unable to stop my mind, as I walked into his room.
Harry didn't have any lights on, the glow filtered in midnight lights of his own window. The view was even better from in here, I thought to myself as I placed the water and tablets down on his small bedside table. I was momentarily distracted as I walked closer.
He mumbled a thank you when I gave him the glass of water and pills, swallowing the two in one gulp and followed it by a splash of water.
He waited until I climbed into the bed besides him to speak. "Go on, ask away. You know you can ask me anything."
Shuffling so he could rest his head against the pillow, Harry stared up at me. The tiredness of his face was coated in the soft glow of the city lights, and I felt my stomach flutter. He was always so fucking pretty.
For some reason, this moment felt more intimate. We had a shared a bed before, we had shared midnight conversations and we had shared soft smiles, though laying in his bed felt different. It made whatever was going on between us so much more real.
"Anything," he murmured, when he saw my hesitation.
"Can you tell me something about you?" I asked him, as I settled in the bed. "Something no one else knows."
I crossed my legs under the blanket, wrapping my arms around myself as I stared out past him, to the window. I wondered about what was going on outside the little bubble we had created for ourselves. I wondered what the real world was like out there.
His eyes followed my gaze, looking out into the fairy lights of the city as he thought.
"I miss my mom," he said finally. He laced his fingers together. "I don't talk about her often, but I do miss her a lot. She was my best friend."
"Is she back in England?" I asked him softly.
He nodded sadly. "Yeah, she's living in protective custody."
I blinked, my body freezing momentarily. "From...from you?" I asked slowly.
He furrowed his eyebrows as he turned to me, almost looking wounded.
I instantly felt horribly guilty. "No, of course not. I wouldn't hurt her."
"Sorry, I-,"
"No, it's okay. I guess I can understand why you'd assume that. She divorced my step-father just before I moved to America. She had to go into protective custody because he wouldn't leave her be."
"Oh, I'm sorry."
He smiled, shrugging as if it wasn't a big deal. "Don't be. I might not get to talk to her often but as long as she's safe, that's all I care about."
"What happened to your step father?" I asked, biting on my lip. I was worried I could be touching a sensitive topic.
His hands tightened in his lap, knuckles whitening from the pressure. "Jail."
"Well...I guess that's a good thing, isn't it?"
Harry shook his head, biting down on his lip. "Police had him in custody before I could even do anything to the bastard."
I didn't want to know what he had done, though from the ugly sneer that coated Harry's face, I could tell it wasn't anything that I wanted to know. I remembered that Harry had shared stories of his stepfather, and he not a single story sounded like it had left a positive experience with him.
I reached out to touch his hand, relaxing the tight grip he had on himself. "Tell me about her."
He pursed his lips. "She's the best person you'll ever meet. Wouldn't hurt a fly. Always caring about others."
His gaze flickered to me, a smile tugging on his lips. "You would love her. She would treat you like her own."
My cheeks tinted at the fact he was even considering a world where I would meet her. "She sounds wonderful."
He nodded in agreement. "She is. I haven't spoken to her in over a year though. It's too dangerous and she's paranoid. I'd rather keep her safe and not talk to her than risk her safety."
He tilted his head to look up at the ceiling, a look of pain flashing across his face before he concealed it. He turned to me, a mask of bravery pinching at his face.
"What's something nobody knows about you?" He asked, his hand finding mind under the blanket. He squeezed it gently.
I thought about it for a moment. I was expecting the question in return, though I wasn't sure I had the answer for it. It took several minutes of absolute silence before I opened my mouth.
"You alight something inside me," I admitted softl, squeezing his hand in return. "It feels like a fire in my chest. Sometimes I wonder if I'm going insane, or if this is just what being...content with life feels like."
Harry stared at me. His eyes moved from my eyes to my mouth, as if he didn't believe the words came out of my mouth.
"Yeah?" He breathed.
I nodded, a little sheepish. Admitting that sounded strange, embarrassing even.
He smiled at me, looking as fond as ever. His fingers reached out to trail down my face, his thumb rubbing at my bottom lip. I couldn't help but turn into his touch.
"I hope it's a passion for life I'm alighting in you," he admitted, pressing his thumb down softly. His thumb moved into my mouth, and he smirked when my lips closed around it.
I watched Harry watch me. I swirled my tongue around the base of his finger, my body feeling warm as his own cheeks flushed at the sight.
He was so intoxicating like this. A part of me wished we had met in a different life. Maybe things would of been simpler if we had.
Harry removed his thumb from my lips, only to replace it with his own. His mouth found mine, and as always, they kissed me with urgency.
I tangled my hands into his hair, accepting the kiss with greed, hungry for what his lips possessed me with. It sent a rush of tingles through my body, and I pushed myself closer to him, eating up any sort of space we had between our bodies.
He kissed me softly, his hands running down my cheeks before they moved to rest on my shoulders, pushing me down until I was laying on my back. I went down like a sinking ship.
I wasn't sure how he managed, though without breaking our kiss, he moved until he was hovering over me, his knee spreading my legs together to give him better access to my body. My back arched at the touch, a shiver of electricity shooting up from where he touched me, all the way to my head. He was like a drug. I'd take anything he gave me for this high.
I couldn't describe the feeling that Harry gave me, as much as I tried to pinpoint it. Each and every time this man laid hands on me, was like all the dopamine in my brain was released and I was in heaven. I didn't know what was so addicting in his touch, but I knew I may just be in a little too deep to be able to get away from it without leaving a little part of me behind.
He pulled away ever so slightly, before he pressed another soft kiss to my lips, almost as if he couldn't get enough, even if he did need to part ways to take a breath. I peaked my eyes open to watch him, feeling aroused by even just the look of him.
Pink cheeks and swollen lips. Messy hair and eyes hooded. He was perfect. So fucking perfect.
His eyes met mine, looking drunk from just a slightest kiss. He grinned lazily at me, all warm and soft, it made my inside feel like goo.
We stared at each other for a moment, drinking in the sight of each other. The only sound in the room was from the cars below, intertwined with the soft sound of wind, and the shallow breaths we took.
"This is where I want to exist," Harry said quietly into the air. "Right here. I would take back every other moment to live in this one forever."
I swallowed down the butterflies, my hands reaching for his shirt. I gripped it between my fists, almost as if he was going to fly away like one. "Right here?" I questioned, sounding breathless.
"Right here," he echoed with a nod, not seeming the least bit ashamed by his confession.
"Why?" I couldn't help but ask, my voice growing quiet as my thoughts grew at what he was saying.
He looked sad as he smiled at me. Slightly crazy, slightly out of it. His hand brushed against my cheek. My eyes shut at the feeling.
"I don't think you'll ever look as beautiful as you do right now," he murmured to me. "I want to keep this image of you in my mind for as long as my mind is still alive and working."
I was speechless. I blinked up at him, my mouth opening slightly in shock. I couldn't do anything but reach up to kiss him. capturing his lips in a kiss. Capturing the moment between us. I hoped he could feel all the words I couldn't say aloud.
I hoped he realised I felt the same, even if it did scare the living shit out of me. The internal battle of what was right and wrong was almost over, I could feel it. I knew I could walk away, walk away from Harry, walk away from the chaos that was his life and his mind, but when he kissed me like this; when he held me like this.
He made me feel as if everything was going to be okay. Even if it was just for a little while. I'd happily stay in the bubble we created for ourselves, if it meant I got this version of Harry all too my self.