I've never been one for goodbyes. The unknown of the future is disturbing and makes me feel useless. Standing in the parking lot of the hotel, hugging my sister, is no different. My arms squeeze around her, the both of us silent as we spend our last few minutes in a tight embrace. The idea of not seeing her for at least the next 4 months makes me miserable.
The fact that she'll be carrying my niece or nephew that whole time, and I'll miss most of her pregnancy? I don't even want to think about it.
"Okay, let's not get too emotional."
I roll my eyes at her, pulling back and following closely as she slips into the vehicle. "Text me as soon as you're home, okay?"
She nods, squeezing my hand before settling in. I shoot her a quick smile before shutting the door and waving her off. Don't cry, Cecily. It's fine.
I inhale a breath as the car rounds the corner of the hotel, out of my sight, before walking back inside. It's late afternoon and I haven't seen Harry since this morning when he graciously got a full-course breakfast delivered for me and Kate.
Scanning the room key and pressing my floor, I tap my fingers on my thighs, waiting patiently for the elevator. The hum buzzing through the walls is actually quite relaxing when you're not piling onto an elevator with 4 rambunctious close friends. I slip inside, smiling briefly at the man who walks in behind me.
"What floor?"
"Thirteen, please." He smiles back, settling into the corner.
I press the one button before standing with my arms across my chest. The music is silent, really accentuating how fucking quiet it is in here. It could be the fact that I don't particularly trust men, but the hairs on the back of my neck raise as goosebumps flutter down my arms.
I freeze up, holding my breath as I look at the floor numbers going up and up. Please, for the love of God, why are we going so slow?
"You enjoying Portland?"
I turn my head, looking at him for a longer moment than I should. He's older, definitely in his 50s at least. "Um, yeah." I turn back, discreetly staring right back at the rising number.
"It is really quite nice, you been out of the city at all?"
I inhale a breath. "Nope," I say, watching 11 turn into 12.
"You should. Maybe I could show you around?"
The elevator halts on 13. "I'm unfortunately heading out of town," I say, stepping forward as the doors open slowly. I slip out.
"Nice to meet you!" I yell out, attempting to not appear uncomfortable. I'm cursed with anxiety that makes me friendly to avoid confrontation. I fumble the two keycards in my hand, trying to decipher which is which quickly.
I hear his steps behind me, and I breathe heavily as I read the numbers on the cards. I sneak a peek behind me, eyeing him walking as casually as can be not far behind me. He smiles, and I turn back around. With my feet picking up slightly, I waste no time slipping my key into Harry's door and shoving my way in, shutting it behind me quickly.
I take a deep breath before shamelessly turning to look through the peephole. I close my left eye, leaning into the door. I was hoping I wouldn't see him, but there he is. His back is to me, his hands in his pockets as he waits patiently for someone.
My brows furrow, my head spinning quickly. Why in the world is this guy knocking on Niall's door? How does Niall know this creep? Is it his dad?
"What are you doing?"
I jump, stepping away from the door, my hand colliding with my chest.
"Jesus, you scared the shit out of me!" I shout in a whisper, eyeing Harry. He's rubbing his wet hair into a towel, another hung low on his hips.
His eyes turn into slits as he eyes me with a smirk. "Who are you hiding from?"
"I'm not hiding I'm, stalking."
"Stalking? Should I be jealous?"
I roll my eyes, pushing myself off the door before walking into the room. I pry my shoes off of my feet, settling into his bed.
He walks over to his bag, flicking through it until he pulls out a pair of boxers.
"Kate head out okay?"
I nod, pulling a pillow into my lap. I twirl the tag in my fingers.
"Yeah, she doesn't like the driver you sent for her but she'll make it."
"What's wrong with David?"
"She says he's too serious, and I think I agree. He acts like a CIA agent or something."
"He likes his job and wants to keep it. He's a professional."
I look at him with raised brows. "Right," I say, shaking my head. "I'm just saying he's a little odd."
Harry chuckles, ripping the towel from his hips and chucking it at me before slipping into his boxers.
I laugh, pulling the wet towel off of myself and attempting to pull my now frazzled hair out of my face.
"Are you okay? With her gone?" He asks, slipping into jeans and walking over to me.
"Yeah, I'll be fine. I miss her, but I was doing okay before she visited. I'll get over it."
He nods, his lips turning inward as he leans down to leave a kiss on my forehead.
"Thank you, by the way. For getting your own room and letting her and I spend the night alone. It wouldn't have felt right to have her to stay in a room by herself." I say, looking up at him as his thumb brushes my jaw.
"Of course. I can't say I didn't stay up extremely late to make sure everything was okay, though."
I chuckle, leaning my cheek into his hand. "You're silly. We were perfectly fine, safe as can be."
His features soften before he seems to wince slightly, the thoughts running through his head are a true mystery.
"Well, in that case, get dressed."
"For what? I thought we were staying in?"
"Absolutely not, I owe you a real date, Campbell. Up and at 'em!"
I fight my smile, my lips turning inward as I jump to my feet to start getting ready. Harry's perfect self already had my things moved back into his room, so I start digging through all of my clothes.
"What should I wear?" I yell across the room, ensuring he hears me from the bathroom.
He peaks his head out of the door. "Whatever you're feeling, I can't give too much information or I'll ruin the surprise." He winks, disappearing again.
I huff, settling on a brown sundress. I get dressed quickly and weave myself around him in the bathroom while we simultaneously get ready. My hair could use a wash and I settle for throwing it up in a very messy ponytail. I pull my hair and tighten it over and over again, styling my bangs to sit as neatly as possible. Harry waits patiently, watching as I huff out a breath of annoyance every few seconds.
He only breaks his stare when his phone buzzes on the table. He picks it up, reading whatever the notification is before his brows furrow.
"What is it?" I ask, fiddling with the tube of mascara in my hand.
He inhales a breath, leaning on the counter before pocketing his phone. "Nothing, just work bullshit. We should get going." He stands, brushing my cheek with his lips before leaving me. I sigh, applying my mascara quickly.
We haven't talked about 'work' as much as I wish we would have. He's still just as secretive as before, and I'm not really sure how to go about asking him. We agreed to deal with everything when needed, but I would still like to know more about his boss and why he's stuck. Does he owe the man something? Is his contract really that tightly bound that he can't just say no to all of the imagery shit? Who even is his boss? Am I going to have to meet him one day?
I screw the mascara shut again, tossing it into my bag and running my pointer fingers up my lashes before wiping my fingers on a rag and walking out. Harry is leaning against the wall, typing away on his phone, his face contorted in all sorts of emotion. "Harry," I say, stepping out of the bathroom with my hands over my chest.
"What's going on?"
He pockets his phone again, shaking his head. "Nothing, let's go." He holds his hand out, and I hesitate before releasing my hold around myself and slipping my hand into his. He turns, going for the door handle and I pull him back.
"Something is going on, you can talk to me."
"Cec, I promise, it's just the usual shit. I just want to be with you tonight."
I frown, squeezing his hand before I let it go. I avoid the shake in my hand, flexing it once before I resume my earlier position. "If you want to be with me you have to be with me. I can't do all of the dishonesty again. I told you to be honest, Harry."
He sighs, his jaw clenching. "Cecily," he says, his hands scrubbing his face.
"Don't do that! Every time we try to have this conversation you get annoyed, I can read it all over your face. You're not being fair."
He rests his hands on his hips, closing his eyes as he inhales a deep breath. "Baby I have told you everything I can without putting you in a shitty position. You have to trust me on that."
I scoff, letting my arms fall before I walk into the room to sit on the edge of the bed. I rub my hands over my thighs as he steps into the room further as well, sitting across the room from me.
"I trust that you like my company. I trust that you like your job, apart from your boss. I trust that you've known Niall for a long time and you two are good friends. I trust that you actually do want to be with just me tonight, to enjoy time together. But I do not trust you, Harry."
I'm unsure of when I was able to read the man nearly as well as he could me, but I watch as his throat hitches and his chest rises and falls as the words hit him. "What?"
I shrug, my hands going up slightly to express how conflicted I feel. "I don't trust that you've been honest with me since you promised to stop lying. Every single time I have begged for you to talk to me, you've shut down. Why?"
His eyes close, his head falling as he shakes his head. "It isn't that simple, Cecily."
"No, it is," I say, leaning forward with my hands on my knees. "You have a choice, tonight. You can either open up and let me in, or I need to stop trying so hard to get you," I exhale a breath, stopping myself. I leave it at that, surely that makes enough sense.
He's silent, staring at me as I try to put on a strong front. I'm definitely toying with the idea of breaking up with him, and we both know it. He knows I mean it, I can see it on his face. He's nervous.
"The more I really think about it, Harry, I don't even know who you really are. You've told me so little about you, and I know I haven't been an open book either, but maybe tonight we should both try."
His lips part as he rocks his head back and forth, a painful look on his face. "Cec," he whispers, leaning back into the chair.
I say nothing, just wait for him to make the next move. I need him to just, talk. This is it, this is all I have left in me. I've done a relationship with someone you barely fucking know before, it isn't for me. Harry is perfect in every way except this.
"I," he says, stopping himself. I look at him expectantly, waiting for him to finish. Come on, Harry. His phone buzzes again and I watch as he checks it, inhaling a deep breath. With one final sigh, he sets his phone on the table next to him and clears his throat.
"I'm on a contract that essentially says I need to do whatever my boss tells me to do. If that contract is broken, there are some things I don't want to happen that will happen. Somehow, someway, I will lose everything. I'll lose my job, I'll lose my life, everything. And I wish that I didn't have to keep you out of it, but I do."
I nod, trying to think about his cryptic answer.
"You think you'll lose me?"
He hesitates but nods. "I will."
"And what if you'll lose me either way? What if I need to know, to understand, to stay?"
"That's what I'm scared of because I cannot lose you. Not right now, not at all. But I also can't tell you."
I stare at him for a moment before blinking, looking down to think about my response. He's not making it easy, that's for sure.
"But I can tell you about me, I can open up to you. I trust you, Cecily."
He's compromising, or trying to at least. Do I let him? Do I get to know him until one day his stupid fucking job finally becomes our only problem? Our final thing to argue about?
I inhale a breath, gesturing to him. "Okay, tell me about you, Styles."
He releases a breath he must have been holding before he smiles slightly.
"Okay, uh, I grew up in Holmes Chapel. Things were pretty good, normal even, until I was twelve. My mom got sick, and my dad went crazy trying to make sure we had the money to keep her alive. It was always just the three of us, and I didn't know what to do. For years she got worse, and my dad went into debt with all of the hospital bills. He couldn't work, he had to take care of her. It got to a point where I had to start staying with Niall's family. My dad was incapable of taking care of me and my mom at the same time. I started doing poorly in school, and then all of a sudden my mom was doing better. She had more consistent care, and my dad got her the meds she needed. Everything was okay."
He pauses, inhaling a breath as he swirls the rings on his fingers. My heart breaks for him, fighting to explain to him that I know how he feels. All this time, I've been talking to him about my mother without knowing.
"I moved back home, started to do better in school, and watched my mom stabilize. She wasn't really ever my mom again, but she had her meds and she was, alive. Then, my dad started to be late getting home all of the time. He was struggling to keep up with everything. I had no idea how he suddenly had money to help my mom, no idea what he was doing. I was barely sixteen when I came home and found him."
This time, I inhale a breath with him. My heart picks up.
"Whoever they were, they made sure to make it hurt. He was nothing but a body when I got home, the bloodbath making me sick. I threw up everywhere and ran to my mom's room. She was weak, tired, and never did much of anything. I was happy to find her unharmed. But she wasn't going to be okay without medicine and care. Her MS was severely advanced, and she hid it for years. Tried everything to keep it contained and at bay, but her body and brain just stopped working."
"So, when I found her, I knew to keep her from feeling all of that pain, I had to make sure she had her medicine. So, I called Niall, he helped me get her safely to his house. His parents asked every question in the book, and they never found who killed my dad, but I did the only thing I could to make money. I fought to start my career, and never would have guessed my boss would be such a controlling piece of shit. And now I finally have something I care about again, I have you. And I've never been more confused about what I want."
I take it all in, trying to remember every word before I speak. One question is on the tip of my tongue, and I don't want to ask it. I don't know what to say.
"She died six months ago."
My heart breaks.
"I broke, didn't know how I was supposed to live. I wanted out, I needed a break. This tour was the deal. Do the tour, make the money, get out of my contract. I owe Micheal a lot of money, Cecily. He's a man who enjoys interest rates. The more famous I become, the quicker I can pay him. This tour is my only chance."
"Stop, you don't have to say anything else. I know you don't want me involved, it's okay."
I stand on my feet, walking over to him. He pouts, and my heart hurts even more at his pained expression. I reach him, immediately sitting on his lap and embracing him. "I am so sorry about your father, and your mom. I can't imagine the pain you feel, but I'm here." I say, holding him to me as he holds me back like his life depends on it.
He cries into my shoulder, and I don't know what to do. How do you comfort a man who has been hurt like this? How do you heal him?
"I'm here, baby," I say, my hand going into his hair. I rub my fingers through it, attempting to soothe him in any way possible. He sighs, following it up with a pained gasp. I can feel his wet tears coating my neck and I fight my own. I pushed him and I shouldn't have.
"I'm sorry," I say, scratching his scalp with one hand and keeping him close to me with the other.
He's fighting his breath, struggling to calm himself. I pull back, resting my forehead against his. "Breathe for me, okay? Just breathe." I grip his neck, both hands now playing with his hair softly. I've only seen him like this once, but he had no tears that time. This is different, maybe even more. Think, Cecily. What did I do last time that worked?
"Breathe, Harry. I'm right here."
I play with his curls, running my fingers softly through them. My fingernails softly scratch his scalp.
"You're okay. I'm right here, breathe."
He does, inhaling sharply before breathing in and out. I rub his hair and repeat my words as his breaths come in and out more steadily. His grip, once tight around my waist, loosens as he calms down. He pulls back slightly, looking up at me. I stare down at him, silently watching him.
Instead of trying to pry more to see what he's thinking, I continue to do what works. "There you are," I say, sitting backward a bit to give him some space. He tightens his grip around my waist again, keeping me close. "It's okay, I'm not going anywhere."
He furrows his brows, looking up at me without a word. I cannot help but think back to the last time we did this. The last time I saw him this vulnerable. That might have been the best night of my life, aside from seeing him in so much pain. I selfishly felt good, felt that he was going to change once I saw him the same way he had seen me. We've been so blindly good since then, high on feeling one another and being with one another.
Until tonight, I forgot we were both still humans with feelings other than infatuation. We both have horrible, sometimes debilitating anxiety. We're both just trying to survive that, navigate it and each other. How could I be mad at him for not wanting to talk about it? He's human.
Regardless of the stupid paparazzi stunts, he's never done anything to hurt me. He's just trying to figure out himself while we, fall for one another, I guess. I can't just throw everything away over one silly disagreement.
"I'm sorry, Cecily."
I freeze, leaning back to get a good look at him. "Sorry? What the hell are you apologizing for?" I say with a soft laugh, attempting to lighten the thick tension.
I stare at him, waiting for him to say something, but he just stares at me. He stares at me like he has so much more to say. I want to know, but I don't want to push him further. He needs a break, from all of it.
"I fucked up," he says, his body resting against the back of the chair as his hands grip my waist. "I'm a fuck up."
"No, Harry. I shouldn't have pushed you to tell me all of this. You didn't do anything wrong, and I'm sorry I pried it out of you. The last thing I want is for you to feel like you can't talk to me, but this wasn't how I wanted to really get to know you. I should not have forced you, I'm sorry."
"Cec, we're in too deep."
I inhale a breath, suddenly feeling too confined in this hotel room.
"If there's anything I've learned over the last three months of knowing you, it's that I want you. I care about you, Harry. Please, don't push me away as soon as you let me in. You pulled me in and I'm here to stay."
He's looking at me and I'm forgetting how to breathe. He's doing that fucking thing again where he makes me feel breathless, weightless, and disgustingly full of feeling. I know I said I needed the full truth, but he gave me all I needed. Everything he said reminded me of why I'm so drawn to him. He is so loyal and so willing to sacrifice for others. He's done it for me since we first met. He's given me everything any normal girl would want. All I've really wanted the entire time, I think, is him.
"If it'll make you feel better, I'll go. But if you're doing it for me, I don't want to go."
That's it, my last offering. My heart is beating out of my chest, and my eyes brim with tears as I look down at him. I know we've done it before, we've given the ultimatum and ended up right back where we started. But this one is different, this time I know exactly who he is. He knows exactly where I stand. I accept him. Please, Harry, accept me.
His hands are slow and soft as they release my hips, resting on my cheeks instead, his fingers grasping the sides of my neck. He pulls me to him slowly, and I give in, pushing myself forward until my eyes are closed and my lips are on his. He kisses me softly, possibly the softest he ever has. My upper lip rests between his as he holds my face to his, pouring every feeling he has into the soft and intimate kiss.
I fist his shirt that rests on his shoulders, unable to think of anything but how happy I am to be right here. It feels right, perfect. Nothing could ever ruin this. Nothing could ever change what I feel for him. Not even his past, not the bullshit contract. None of it. He pulls away, catching his breath as our foreheads rest against one another briefly.
"I don't want you to go, please, don't ever leave me." I look down at him, our lips hovering as I breathe in the shared space. Thank God.
"I'm here, Harry. I'm right here."
I kiss him again, unable to think of any other way to show him what I feel without saying it. I can't say it. I don't know how. I wrap my arms around his neck as I kiss him deeply. With my eyes slammed shut, the brimmed tears slip down my cheeks. I ignore the feeling, focusing instead on moving my lips with his. Our mouths part against one another, a mix of fighting for breath and fighting to voice whatever we're feeling.
He pulls me into him, meeting me halfway as he sits up. His chest is pressed against mine and I'm unable to think of anything but every emotion coursing through my veins. I feel it like it is the beat of my heart, like a river crashing through me. I love him. I love you.
The words are on the tip of my tongue, but I swallow them. Don't do it, Cecily. Give it time, don't overwhelm him.
His hands fall to my ass, holding me softly before they're on my hips and my thighs. The feeling of his palms on my bare skin, with my dress ridden up, has goosebumps showering me. I fist his hair, pulling back with his bottom lip beneath my teeth. I tug it softly, barely applying any pressure. What we're doing is soft, different than what we've done in the past.
He brushes my longer frame pieces of hair behind my ear, grasping the side of my face while one hand softly kneads the skin of my thigh. I kiss his nose, my lips soft to the touch. My hands release his hair as I brace myself on the arms of the chair, standing on my feet.
My hands shake as I slip them beneath my dress, removing my underwear. I step out of them, my eyes still locked with his. He swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down before his lips part and he breathes heavily. The sundress, once ready for a night out, is discarded on the floor next to my underwear.
I'm completely bare in front of him, and for the first time in a while, I'm nervous. My hands continue to shake and I fight to keep myself from covering myself. I'm safe here. I'm okay. He would never hurt me.
"You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen," he whispers, his hands fidgeting. Does he feel it, too?
He gestures for me to come back to him, and I do. I sit back on his lap, leaving just enough room to unbuckle his belt and pry open the button and zipper to his jeans. He assists me, lifting his hips while I hold myself up on the arms of the chair. He kicks his pants off until they're gone, leaving him in just his shirt. My grip is soft as I grab the edge of it, slowly pulling it over his head.
We're both naked, and I can't think of anything but him. How beautiful he is. How I can feel the beat of his heart beneath my hand on his chest. I relax against him, our most intimate regions resting on top of one another. I kiss him again, this time sure to communicate my feelings with every part of my body.
I grind into him, feeling how wet I am as I glide seamlessly over him. His lips part, and my tongue slips into his mouth without thought. Nothing has ever felt like this. Even with him, and how perfect he made sex feel, this is something new entirely. He keeps getting better, we keep doing things that make me feel too much. My heart beats profusely as he swirls his tongue with mine, his hips matching my pace.
If I were to die and go to heaven, I think this is exactly what it would feel like. He is everything. How did I ever live without him?
I kiss him harder, and the sexual side of me starts to take over. With one hand in his hair, I drop the other between us. I lift my hips away just enough to grip his cock, straightening it between us before pumping it a few times. My hands move up and down the soft skin, slightly coated in my arousal. He moans into my mouth, his grip on the sides of my face tightening.
I moan back, unable to help myself. And before I can even think of saying it, giving into speaking it into existence, I align him with my cunt and slide down slowly. Our jaws lock up and mouths hang open as we both breathe and moan into the air between us. I stretch around him, sucking him into me the lower I get.
My hand leaves his cock and lands on his shoulder in a tight grip, the feeling overwhelming me. I claw his shoulder, sinking onto him completely. He lets go of my face, gripping my hips softly as we relish in the feeling. Neither one of us moves immediately, both of us seemingly wanting to drag out the feeling for as long as we can.
"You feel so good," he says, his lips brushing mine as I pant out soft breaths.
He guides my hips softly, rolling them to make me grind into his incredibly hard cock. I follow suit, moaning softly into his mouth before kissing him. I pick up my pace just enough to keep it slow and intense. I need him to feel it. I need him.
I grip a fistful of his hair softly, holding him in place as my hips move back and forth. The feeling is other worldly, and damn my emotions for forcing wet eyes. I squeeze them shut, my brows furrowing as I continue to fuck him softly. Our movements are lazy but so right. Nothing I have ever done has ever been this perfect.
He kneads my ass, giving the skin soft squeezes as he simultaneously follows my lead. I break the kiss to catch my breath and his head falls back to do the same. "I love being inside of you, Cecily."
My heartbeat quickens, even more, that sentence fucking with my head. Jesus, why does this feel so fucking incredible? "Harry," I whimper, biting my lip to keep myself from saying anything more. I push back, putting some distance between us before I say something stupid. My hands find the tops of his thighs as I arch backward, my hips alternating between coming down on him in circles and bounces. His head hangs forward as he watches, unable to look away from the sight of my pussy swallowing his cock over and over again.
"Cecily, fuck," he moans, his hands gripping my hips but letting me continue to lead. I push myself back a little more, situating my thighs further apart. As soon as I come down on him again, I can't help the noise that escapes me. I can feel him everywhere, his cock caressing parts of me I can't even fathom.
"Oh my God," we say simultaneously. I look down, cheeks tinted red at the comment. When I realize how deep he is, by the sight of the shape of his cock pumping into me visible in my lower abdomen, I lose it. My pace quickens, both of us transfixed on the sight of my belly bulging. I've never seen him this way, never squeezed around his cock while seeing it physically fuck me from the inside.
My fingernails claw into the skin of his thighs, and my abdomen spasms as I work my hips. I'm a slutty mess of loud moans, my head falling back as my pace becomes quick, precise, and hard. With every circle of my hips, as I lower onto his perfect cock, my pussy tightens and squeezes around him. I'm overwhelmed by the feeling.
His hands on my hips, fingernails pressing into my ass cheeks, thumbs pushing into my lower belly. Everything feels so good, he feels so good. Oh, God.
"Harry, I-" My orgasm threatens to wash over me, and I lose my ability to think straight. All I can do is chase it, fucking him with everything I have. Surrendering my pussy, the intense and invading feeling of his cock inside of my abdomen, I give in. Moaning out, my orgasm crashes through me and he takes over while my hips stall and spasm.
He works my hips, grinding me back and forth as I continue to clench around him. "Fuck," I whimper out, unable to hold myself up as my vision blurs and I squeeze my eyes shut. My arms give out, and I fall back quickly.
He pulls me to him, my forehead on his as he fucks me, chasing his own high. My clit has no choice but to rub against his abdomen, and my brain short circuits at the feeling. Every nerve ending in my pussy is fully aware right now. I feel him everywhere, and the relief from changing positions causes me to yelp.
"Oh my God, Cec," he says into my mouth, his body tensing with every move.
"Harry," I want to say it, but I don't. No, I'm weak right now. I'm overwhelmed by how good he feels, how good I feel. The lines are blurring, I can wait and see.
I continue to clench around him as he works me onto him over and over, his features a mix of relaxed and tense. God, he is so beautiful. I bring my hand to his cheek, running my fingers over his soft skin. I can't help it, I'm enamored by him. I don't know when the infatuation changed, or when I became so completely changed by him.
I hold his face, my eyes burning into his as he breathes heavily. His throat pushes out the prettiest sounds, and my body reacts. I meet his pace, fucking him and holding him to me. His brows furrow and his hips falter as his orgasm starts to take over. I take control again, fucking it out of him. Just when he's right there, his hold tightening around me, I feel like I've gone to heaven.
"I love you," he whispers, moaning out into the space between us before stalling. His hips jerk, and I feel all of it. I feel him inside of me, I feel him on my hips, I feel him in my veins and my chest and everywhere in between. He said it, right? He said it. I grip his hair, slamming my lips onto his and kissing him with everything I have.
In between them, I give in. I speak it into existence, eyes sealed shut, too afraid to look at him. "I love you." Did I imagine he said it? Did I say it out loud before he did? I quickly don't care, kissing him the same way I did before. I love him, and I can't change that. This is right, this is where I'm supposed to be. This is what all of this was for. Everything I've ever done, ever endured, I needed to survive all of it to get here. To be with him.
Only when his hips stall, and his hands softly hold my face, do I dare to part myself from his lips. We breathe heavily, and I open my eyes. They're hooded, still refusing to look at his. He guides me, pulling my face up. I close them again, my heart beating out of my chest as I lean back to separate our faces completely.
"Cecily,"
I tighten my features, my expression probably pained as I fight back tears. Don't get so emotional, it's okay. You're safe with him.
I open my eyes, meeting his. He's looking at me the same way I feel like I'm looking at him. I want to say it again, but I bite my tongue. I still don't even know if he really said it. I feel like I wanted to say it so bad, that I made myself believe he said it first. It's too good to be true.
"I love you," he says again, brushing my messy hair back and out of my face. I blink, knowing it's real. His lips moved, and he said it. I smile, trying to fight it but failing miserably. My pink cheeks shine and I grip his cheeks, squeezing his face as he laughs.
"I love you," I say, kissing his lips to rid myself of the pathetic smile.
A/N: We're nearing the end of book one. Please, please, please leave comments to let me know if you're enjoying the book! I appreciate all of the votes and comments and am really enjoying writing this story. <3