"And high up above, or down below
When you're too in love to let it go
But if you never try, you'll never know
Just what you're worth."
**DOUBLE UPDATE! READ CHAPTER 33 FIRST
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The water is cold. My skin is raw from scrubbing the blood off, but I can still feel it.
It runs deeper than skin, flesh, or bone.
I didn't have much choice. My legs gave out so I collapse onto the tub floor and let the water pour over me. I don't care that I begin shivering; I don't care that my body hurts. I don't care that my body curls in on itself. I don't care how long I sit there in the freezing water – I just want the blood off me.
But, the blood on my hands was already long gone.
"Allie?" I don't respond. It's probably Louis checking in on me again.
I squeeze my arms around myself harder, my nails digging painfully into my skin. I wish the world could stop. I want everything around me to cease moving and be lost in time with me for just a moment.
But that's not how this damned world works.
The bathroom door clicks open, and over the waterfall, I hear a familiar voice – one laced with trepidation. It's not Louis like I had expected, but I can't move. I just want to stay here and feel the water beat down on my body.
Harry, however, never lets me have what I want.
I can hear the shower curtain be pulled aside. "Shit-" Harry curses, and then, the water stops. He turns off the freezing water. "Allie, what the hell happened?"
I wish I wasn't like this, Harry.
I don't have the energy to respond. It only takes a moment for me to feel a soft fabric thrown over my shoulders. Harry wraps a towel around my shivering body and rubs his warm hands up and down my shoulder.
"You're freezing, Allie." Again, I don't respond. It's not like I could explain why I do this without sounding insanely broken.
So I've been in the shower for just under three hours? If I had the energy, I would have laughed or maybe cried.
Harry's fingers tremble a bit when he cups my cheek and raises my head. I think he realizes he won't be getting any answers out of me. So, with his lips pressed in a firm line, he stands and digs around in the bathroom closet. He fumbles with a washcloth in the sink, dampening in with water and face wash.
What is he doing?
When he kneels beside the tub again, he swallows and blinks a few times like he's preparing himself for something. Is he nervous?
It's completely unexpected – the way leans over the tub and starts wiping my makeup off with timid, slow motions. "Don't worry... I won't look." That means more to me than he'll ever know.
"Allie," Harry whispers my name in the mix of the silence. He looks down at me. His eyes and deep voice are solemn. "Do you know how long you've been in here?"
I shake my head. No, I don't know. I don't know if I want to know.
"Three hours," Harry explains slowly. "Louis told me you've been locked in the bathroom for three hours."
"Oh," I say numbly. My voice is scratchy and rugged. "I'm sorry." I'm sorry for ruining everything. But, most importantly, "I'm sorry I'm like this."
Harry's shoulders slump, and for a moment, his hand that had been focused on wiping away the mascara under my eyes stops. "Stop that. Don't say sorry."
"Why are you doing this?"
"Returning the favor." Is this his returning the favor for taking that bullet out of his arm? Whatever it is, I don't have the energy to challenge him.
"O-oh."
"Are you hurt anywhere?"
I shake my head side to side. "No. I'm not hurt."
And for the next five minutes, I can't help but stare up at Harry, who's far too concentrated on whipping my makeup off. His lips are caught between his teeth, a few long strands of his tousled hair fall forward and interpret some of his vision, and his eyebrows are drawn inwards as he focuses on being as delicate as possible.
He's not used to being this soft, is he?
"...thank you." All Harry does is hum. "You're really confusing, Harry."
"I could say the same about you, Allie." When he's done, he pulls back, gracing me with one last look before standing. "I got off what I could. I'll leave you a change of clothes by the door." And with that, he turns to leave to give me privacy but-
I don't want to be alone right now.
"H-Harry?"
He stops. He turns and looks down at me. "Yeah?"
I can't say it. I loathe asking for help, but he seems to understand the words I want to say but could never have the strength to say out loud. He walks back over to the tub and kneels down again. Gently, he pulls me up from under my arms all while trying to keep the white towel wrapped around me. I'm more appreciative of that than he'll ever know.
"I got you," he mumbles and helps me step out onto the tile floor. Dripping and shivering, I stumble into Harry. He doesn't let go of me. He holds me gentler than he ever has. His calloused hands come to rest on my hips, and I never thought Harry's touch would keep me from falling into the spiral of memories that plague me.
"There was so much blood on my hands, Harry." But I'm not talking about just tonight, am I?
"You didn't kill that man," he says suddenly. Soothing, soft caresses, and meaningful squeezes — Harrys squeezes my hips with me the same tenderness I've shown him before. "I did."
"...What?"
"I killed him," Harry explains like it's the simplest thing in the world. "You didn't kill anyone."
Is that why he left me?
I never ask the question out loud but he knows what's on my mine.
Yes.
He didn't want me to carry the burden of taking a life, so he did it for me. He finished the job I couldn't.
"A-Are you okay?"
Harry's chuckle is deep and tired. "'M fine."
He makes me feel safe, and I'll never know why.
"You were gone for so long," I hit his chest weakly, but he remains unmoving. He takes it all, all my frustration, all my tears, and senseless rambles. Over the fabric of the towel, I can feel his thumbs brushing against me in a slow, delicate motion. "You can't do that! You were so rude to me. You said I was worthless – a pathetic waste of space! A-And then I said you were no good and God- you got me so pissed but, then everything went to shit. I-I thought something bad happened to you a-and you just left me, and the last thing I said was so horrible!" I hit his chest again and again. "Y-You can't do that to me! I-I don't care about that guy I stabbed, I care-" about you. However, I can't seem to finish my sentence. These feelings swimming inside me are confusing and overwhelming, and not understanding them pisses me off. I shouldn't care about him but I do. "Y-You just can't do that to me! You can't just leave me, Harry!"
And then he's kissing me.
I hadn't been expecting his large hands to cup my wet cheeks, and I most certainly didn't expect him to kiss me like this – gentle, firm, and steady. It only takes him sucking my lip slightly to have my composure falter. "Has anyone ever told you that you ramble far too much?" He murmurs against my lips.
Frankly, I don't care. I don't analyze the strange and heavy feelings swirling in my chest. It feels like my heart is being broken and then reassembled all at once. All I can do is kiss him again, harder, and wrap my arms around his neck. I've kissed him only once, but I missed it. I missed kissing, Harry.
And maybe, he missed kissing me too.
When I pull back and look at Harry, I realize I'm unsure of many things right now, but I am sure of one thing. I want Harry. I shouldn't, but I do.
"Do you want me to make you forget?"
I nod, and my lip trembles. I pull him closer to me. "Please."
It's so wrong — I know — but I think this is where our crossroads meet. We're not good with words or handling our emotions, so we run. We take, we give, we forget. This shouldn't be how we handle our problems, this shouldn't be our only way of connecting, but it is. It's the only language we seem to understand.
All I can feel is him, and all I want to feel is him.
Please just make me forget, Harry.
Giving as much as taking, Harry kisses me just as hungrily as I kiss him. When the need to breathe becomes too much, I pull away from him, just barely. "Sex isn't going to change anything, Harry." Which is my way of saying – I'm still angry. I'm still hurt.
Harry didn't like kissing me. He made that very apparent the first time we had sex, but now his lips can't seem to stay away from mine. He kisses me impossibly harder and holds me tighter. His kiss is scorching and lights a fire in my tummy.
This kiss, however, is different from the others. It almost feels like an 'I'm sorry' – but I know better than to believe that. He's never sorry.
It's all so much.
"Harry," I moan his name.
Desperate– it's all so desperate; all of the caresses, kisses, bites, and licks. Greedy hands – eager and distressed to feel me.
Then, his hands move under my thighs, and he lifts me easily. I yelp at the sudden action, and my arms automatically wrapped around his neck and my legs around his waist.
"Please just," he struggles to speak. "Please just stop talking," his request isn't rude or snippy. He's frustrated, overwhelmed, and anguished. He's desperate for me.
Why don't you ever say what you want to say, Harry?
I nod slowly because, even though I'm still mad, I don't want Harry to be upset or worried. The next thing I know is that Harry is stumbling blindly through the guest room. He finds the bed quickly and lays me down a lot more temperate than I had anticipated.
What's changed?
He's quick to hover over me on the bed, but I stop him before he can kiss me again. I look up at him, feeling so lost in his soft touch. It's overwhelming, but I don't hate it. Regardless, I don't know how to handle it. "Are you okay, H?"
"Yeah," he breathes out. "Just- let me make you forget, sweetheart." He repeats the words I had spoken to him the first time we had sex.
With his silver chain dangling above me, I wrap my index finger around the metal and tug softly. Harry doesn't resist me, and slowly, he leans down again.
His lips are soft – so soft – and for just a moment, he kisses me deep and slow. I even stop breathing. Something in us shifts, but I'm too drunk off of him to care.
He pulls away from my mouth, and his hand grabs a handful of the cotton fabric of the white towel wrapped around me. "I want this off."
Why would he want to see my ugly body?
The last time we fucked, I was fine. I still had my dress on, and he couldn't see every part of me. He wouldn't-
He wouldn't like my body.
I know that, deep down. I know he'll be repulsed just as much as I am.
When I hesitate, Harry pulls away. I'm cold without the warmth of his body so, I sit up, leaning on my elbows. Hbuhhbb Without a word, Harry walks over to the door with a prominent bulge in his pants. "Where are you going?" I ask, sitting up. Then, he flicks the lights off.
Suddenly, I feel much safer.
"Oh," It's the only thing I'm capable of saying. Maybe Harry does know me better than I thought.
When Harry comes back, he gently taps my legs to let me know — I'm right here. Then, his hands bunch up the fabric as he gently pulls. I lift my hips and allow him to remove the damp towel from my body. I lay there, exposed and nervous. Swallowing thickly, I lay back down in a comfortable position before Harry crawls on top of me again, settling between my legs. My heart races, my palms start sweating, and my breathing quickens.
"I-I'm sorry. I'm just-" I'm so nervous.
Harry sighs. "Stop rambling." In one fluid motion, he rocks his hips, the bulge in his pants rubbing just right between my legs.
Fuck.
Next, his hands trace my skin, caressing my breast and the soft skin of my stomach and hips. I can't help but squirm and moan his name. When was the last time a man touched me so gently? I can't seem to remember.
"Still want me to make you forget?" He whispers against the shell of my ear.
I nod frantically. "Yes. Please."
His grave hum makes me throb. Slithering down my body, one of his hands disappears between my legs. "You're already so wet for me," Harry says gruffly, seeming very pleased. "I can't wait to fuck this pretty pussy."
"P-please," I run my hands up his chest and tug at the buttons of his shirt. "I wanna feel you."
At that, Harry chuckles. "You're a needy little thing."
I don't fight him on that. I can barely make out his silhouette, but he stands from the bed and begins removing all of his clothes from what I can see. When his skin meets mine again, it's warm, and I can't help but let my hands wander.
"Harry, please just fuck me."
"You think you're ready for my cock, sweet girl?"
"Yes." Can't he see how badly I want him?
I hear the foil of a packet that Harry tears open. He takes out a condom and slides it down over his dick. Then, his hands hook under my thighs before he throws my legs precariously over his shoulder.
"I-I hate you," I murmur in the dark.
Harry chuckles lowly before lining himself up with my entrance, teasingly applying pressure. "I hate you too."
He eases into me, and unlike last time, he gives me a few moments to adjust before he snaps his hips roughly.
Oh fuck.
With just one thrust, my eyes are rolling back. He hits the deepest parts of me, and the tiny moans, gasps, mewls that leave my lips are uncontainable.
"Fuck. Harry- hmph!"
"What is it? Tell me what you want, baby."
"H-Harder-" I can barely get the words out before he's pushing my legs back so my knees are perpendicular to my chest. He rams into me harder, deeper.
I can't contain myself — not in this position.
One of the curtains is open just a crack, and the light from the city shines through. I can see him now — his eyes, long hair, and his silver chain dangling right above the skin of my chest. I kiss him this time, and it's messy and interrupted by my small gasp that he swallows down.
The thing is, Harry isn't gentle. He's jagged, and rough edged. I've never experienced slow hands and soft kisses with him. So, driven by my neediness for him, I initiate the affection. I brush his long hair from his eyes, tucking the messy strands behind his ears. I kiss him long and slow, and my legs wrap around his waist.
Like lightning, Harry seems to pick up on what's happening and pins my hands above my head. For a moment, he completely stops, panting heavily above me. I thought I did something wrong when he pulls away from me and panic swirls in my gut.
I reach for him. "Harry-" He ignores me and roughly, he shifts me onto my side just a bit. I say his name again but he leaves me no time to talk as he drops one of my legs onto the bed, keeping only one on his shoulder. He drives into me again, nearly splitting me open.
All I can do is scream his name.
I want to touch him, I realize. But I can't. I shouldn't, not in the way I want to touch him, at least.
The rough pads of his thumb find my clit, and he rubs tight and quick circles over the flesh. My breath hitches at the sudden pleasure that electrocutes me. My legs start trembling and I can barely breathe. My back arches, and my eyes roll back. I never knew sex could be like this. No one has ever made me feel this good. Crying his name, I start throbbing around his cock.
Grunting, he pulls out of me, and I can't help but wine at how empty I feel without him. Why'd he stop? However, he doesn't give me much time to complain as he flips me over like a rag doll so I'm facing away from him. Surprisingly, he taps my leg. "Sit up for me," he mutters. I listen to him, and he slides a pillow under my hips. Then one of his hand pressed to my lower back as he guides me to lay back down.
My back arches as I lay on the pillow, leaving my ass up at the perfect angle. I gasp when he slides back into me, effortlessly. I've never done this before, but the pleasure I feel nearly makes me cry. He's hitting so deep in all the right places. As far as I know, Harry is the only man who's ever made me feel this good.
The bed sheets muffle my cries but I don't think Harry likes that. He loves hearing me fall apart. Driving into me harder, faster, he wraps one of his hands in my hair and yanks. My head snaps up and now there's nothing muffling the noises fumbling from my lips.
He's the only thing other than a pill that's makes me forget.
"Fuck-" Harry grunts. "M gonna cum."
After a few more harsh thrusts, he pulls out of me, and I quickly slide the pillow out from under me and turn around to face him. The light coming through the window is still faint, but I can see him take the condom off. I have to squeeze my legs together at the sight of him touching himself. Eyes screwed shut, sweating, and panting heavily-
"Please cum for me, H. Wanna feel you."
He cums hard, all over my breast and stomach, and even though he's not touching me currently, I can't help but moan. Even in the dark, he's beautiful.
But Harry isn't done. He bends down, and with his tongue, he laps up all of his cum off my body. Kissing, sucking, biting. He pays a lot of attention to my breast in particular and takes his time licking up the mess he made.
When he's finally satisfied, he moves up, so we are finally facing to face again. I feel his nose nudge mine, and I squeeze his waist. One of his hands grabs my face, and I don't fight him as he pries my jaw open.
I tremor when he spits all of his cum in my mouth. "Swallow." He doesn't have to tell me twice. I swallow happily and never look away from him while I do it.
I hum pleasantly. "You taste really good, baby."
The mood shifts to something lighter, even in the cloak of night. I find myself smiling brightly when he looks down at me. He's utterly shocked. I never thought I'd be able to catch Harry off guard, and I can't help but giggle. Harry begins laughing too, and his head falls forward to rest on my collar bone.
His laugh makes my stomach whirl.
Between laughs, he groans loudly, frustrated, elated, and most definitely turned on. How is he already hard again? "You better shut up before I fuck you again, Allie."
"I'm not opposed to that."
I love that I can feel him smiling against the skin of my neck. I wish I could see him right now. I adore his dimples. "That's cute," he snickers. "Did you think I was done with you?"
My smile falters. "Huh?" Grinning, Harry moves, the bed dipping under his weight as he moves down my body. "H, what are you doing-" I yelp when he spreads my legs apart again. He shifts to lay on his belly and throws my legs over his shoulders effortlessly. My eyes go wide. "H-Harry! What are you doing?"
"I've been wanting to taste you for a while, Allie." He looks up at me through thick lashes. God, it only takes one look for me to want him all over again.
I cover my face with my hands and peek through my fingers. "Ohmygod- really?"
Harry chuckles. "Yeah," he hums. "why are you so surprised by that?"
"I-I don't know-" he presses his thumb to my clit and rubs me in slow, small circles. It shuts me up instantly.
"You're a bad liar, Allie."
"I- fuck. Okay, I just- no one has ever-" I cringe as I push out the following words. "No one has ever done this to me before." And, if I'm honest, I've never been fucked the way Harry fucks me either, and we've only slept together twice now.
Harry's eyebrows furrow. "You dated your ex for four years, and he never ate your pretty pussy?"
I throw myself back on the bed, utterly embarrassed. "Stopppp."
God, this is so embarrassing. Harry pats my thigh three times – one, two, three. Those three taps help me steady my breath just a bit. Then, he squeezes my thigh gently, the calloused pads of his fingers making me shiver. I feel so shy now, but I love it when he talks to me like that, and he knows it.
"That's nothing to be embarrassed about, Allie baby," Harry murmurs right before he licks me long and slow. My hands fly down, and my fingers weave through his long hair and pull. He grunts against me, and all I can do is pant heavily with anticipation. "Let me show you what you've missed."
-
A/N
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@sunflowerwinds
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