After he'd totally calmed down, I helped Harry tidy away all the papers and books scattered across his bed and floor. I made it look like I wasn't taking any notice of the drawings as we gathered his artwork and tucked it back into the books, but I was admiring every one secretly. It just blew my mind how amazing they were; all the details were so accurate and the portraits were just so realistic. I knew he was talented, but to see his sketches of something I knew so well - that being myself - just put it into perspective how incredible his abilities were.
It made my heart swell to imagine a miserable Harry one or two months ago, sitting alone in his dimly lit bedroom, a pencil in his hand as he thought about me and transferred the images planted so firmly in his head onto paper so wonderfully. I wondered what he felt back then, what he wasn't telling me. I wondered if he understood what he was feeling and just pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind, or whether he didn't have a clue what was going on in that complicated head of his. What excuse did he have for himself when he decided he wanted to draw me?
Part of me wanted to ask him if I could keep one of the pictures, or whether he'd draw something specially for me to take home and cherish, but I knew it was a sensitive topic. As much as he seemed relieved in the end when I'd told him I was flattered and loved the pieces, they meant a lot to him and deep down he was still holding onto the idea that they were his secret, his escape.
Maybe one day he'd be happy and comfortable enough with the concept of his drawings that he would be able to laugh about it with me, and he would be able to show off his talent to other people. I would love one day for him to be able to draw me from life, and I could tell him how much I adored the finished product and he would say I could keep it forever.
Afterwards, we climbed back onto Harry's bed and cuddled up. The sun was going down as we laid peacefully with our limbs entwined on the soft mattress. The room was getting darker and shadows were coming out, but the sky outside was only getting brighter. For some reason, sunsets seemed all the more significant now, especially those I shared with Harry. I watched through the window as the sky went baby pink, mixing with it's usual blue to eventually become purple. It was a very pale and pastel-coloured sunset, the kind that made the clouds glow and look like perfectly sculpted, fairground candy floss.
As I watched the changing of colours through the glass, Harry watched me. I could feel his thoughtful and absentminded gaze fixed on my face from where he lay on the bed beside me. My pupils were expanding the darker his bedroom got, and it seemed to become pitch black in no time. The moonlight was illuminating his sharp features when he rolled over me, laying between my legs with his cheek pressed to my stomach and hands engulfing my hips in the same way he had on Halloween.
I ran my fingers through his hair slowly. I couldn't even find words to describe what it was like when we were so subtly intimate like this, sometimes when I really think about it I can't believe he's the same person as he is at other times. You can feel that after a lifetime of getting wrapped up in criminality and failure, cutting himself off from feeling anything, he's just craving this impassioned and unfeigned closeness. There was no doubt in my mind that he truly did love me, and I imagined the feeling was overwhelming him.
He was in way over his head. Having opened up and admitted his love for me after what must've been years of putting on this tough front and convincing himself that if he were to feel something that'd make him weak and vulnerable, he'd dived in head first. When he said I was all he had, I know he wasn't exaggerating to some extent. Of course he had his friends and family, but it was as though that was all fake. Those friends he had been hanging around with for so long were almost the same as him, they too had a wall built to keep themselves from damaging their reputation. None of them were really heartless or carefree, getting into trouble and just laughing about it like nothing mattered, it was an act - a method of survival and a competition of who could be the baddest, the most outrageous, who could have the biggest ego and care about things the least.
What we had was real.
I'm not saying everything had changed at the flick of a switch, Harry was still very much in need of time to learn what it means to be true to yourself and take life as it comes, but he was well on the right track. I wouldn't forget the horrible things he'd done in the past, both to me and not involving me, but it's like I could understand why he felt he had to do them now. With Harry, and people like him, there's much more than meets the eye. Under the surface there is usually a deeper reason why they do the treacherous things that they do, but I believe they just need a bit of help. They need to find something that puts things in perspective and makes them really think about themselves and makes them want to get better.
"Does love scare you?" I asked Harry quietly, having set myself into this unfathomable mindset and just wanting to get him to feel it too.
"Before I knew what it was, it scared me to death. I couldn't get my head around what was happening to me. But now, not so much," his voice was muffled by his mouth being squashed against my stomach, and his tone was relaxed and frank. "It kind of scares me in a different way now."
"What way is that?"
He squeezed my hips gently and breathed in through his nose, as if feeling nervous over preparing himself to be honest with me. In response I pressed my fingertips a little more firmly to his scalp as I continued to comb through his hair reassuringly.
"It scares me that it might not last forever. Or, in a way, that it will," he replied, a bit vaguely.
He always had to be so complex; it was never straight to the point with Harry. "What do you mean?" I encouraged him to expand, my voice soft.
"It's just like... What if one day you stop loving me and I can't stop loving you?"
My stomach twisted over the fact he was being deadly serious. "Don't say that..."
"See? You can't promise it won't happen. And I don't expect you to, because you can't. But that's my point: nothing's certain."
"That's how I felt the whole time I had no clue what was happening between us," I remembered. It'd crossed my mind that you put a whole lot of trust and energy into someone else who could quite easily get up and leave you. I guess it's not all that dissimilar now.
"It is?" He lifted his head and looked up at me with his eyebrows raised slightly in surprise.
I nodded, giving him a funny look that told him I couldn't believe he was shocked by that, and he smiled a little bit. "I don't like uncertainty."
Following that comment, Harry carried on wearing that little smile as he dropped his head back to rest on my tummy and seemingly nuzzled in to get comfortable. We stayed like that - going back to silence - until his mother called us down for dinner. Harry complained, saying that he'd rather stay in his room with me forever than go down and sit with his mum and dad to eat dinner, and I playfully told him off for being rude to his parents.
When we got into the dining room I was surprised to see that only two plates were set down on the table. It turned out Harry's mum and dad were going out to a work dinner later that evening, and Louise had made dinner for Harry and I. I wasn't used to the way his parents gave him everything he wanted and waited on him like he lived in a five star hotel, if my mum was going out to eat she would leave me and my brother to find something for dinner ourselves, not slave away making food for us before leaving.
Harry kept nudging my knee with his whilst we were eating, smirking down into his plate without acknowledging me when I looked at him. He was like a giddy little child joking around and trying to do anything he could to prevent me from making conversation with his family who were wandering around, drinking tea and ironing their outfits for the evening. I wouldn't dare give him the satisfaction of knowing I found it cute.
After we'd finished our meal Harry just walked out and headed back upstairs, leaving his plate on the table for somebody else to tidy away. I rolled my eyes and took it upon myself to pick up the dirty plates and at least take them into the kitchen.
"Oh, thank you honey. You didn't have to do that," Louise beamed at me, immediately rushing over and taking the plates from me and popping them in the dishwasher.
"It's alright," I assured her, deciding not to bring up the fact that I was raised to do my bit around the house.
I turned to the doorway as Louise was stacking things into the dishwasher, but as I set off to leave she shot up and I felt a careful hand on my shoulder as she called, "Jess?"
I spun around with a polite smile on my face. "Yeah?"
"Thank you," she said sincerely.
"It's fine, it's just dishes-"
"Not for the dishes, dear," she chuckled. "For helping Harry. I know he's not the easiest person to deal with but ever since you came into his life... Let's just say we've all seen changes in him."
I must've looked like a rabbit in the headlights standing there staring back at her. Her voice was so genuine and the way she looked at me when she'd said it just told me how much she really did mean it. I couldn't believe that even his parents thought I'd changed him, it was one thing hearing it from his friends, but from his own mother... I felt a strange sense of pride.
I shifted a little awkwardly and smiled, avoiding eye contact for a moment as I roped myself back in.
"Oh I'm sorry," she laughed, letting her hand fall to her side, "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
"No, no. I'm not," I said confidently, making sure to come across friendly and kind. "I just... People keep telling me the same thing."
"It's plain to see," she nodded. "I don't want to speak out of line here, and Harry would probably kill me if he knew I'd said this, but anyone could see that you're very special to him. I hope he's told you that himself."
"He has," I smiled again, more to myself this time. "He... He's very special to me, too."
Louise looked like she was going to cry, she had this heartfelt look on her face like she absolutely adored and admired me, which made me want to cry as well. We just smiled at each other, trying to contain the emotions threatening to spill. I'd previously thought about what Harry's mum might think of him and I really did fear that she was disappointed with him, so seeing her be so happy that he was improving himself and had found someone that he cared about to help him along the way was so touching. Maybe she had been worried that no one would ever love him.
"Jess?" Speak of the devil, Harry's voice echoed down the stairs impatiently. We composed ourselves and I glanced over my shoulder.
"Go on, or he'll throw a strop," she joked, making us both laugh. "We'll be off in half an hour. See you tomorrow if you're still here."
"Yeah, okay. Thanks again for letting me stay."
"Anytime," she responded solemnly, with so much more meaning behind the word.
I scurried back up the stairs to Harry's bedroom, finding him sprawled out across his bed once again.
"What took you so long?"
"Nothing," I fibbed, closing the door and crawling up to lay with him.
"What a wild Saturday night we're having," he teased as I rested my head on his chest. "Saying that, we will have the house to ourselves very soon..."
I could hear the cheeky smirk he had on his face before I looked up at him and saw it in full swing.
It was around twenty minutes later when his parents left, shouting their goodbyes up the stairs. I decided to get comfy by changing out of my jeans and jumper, Harry pulled off his shirt and tossed me it so I nipped into his bathroom and put it on. It was warm and smelt pleasantly like his body spray when I pulled it over my head, leaving the bathroom in the large tshirt and my knickers - which thankfully were quite cute.
Harry had taken his jeans off and was laying on his back, propped up by his elbows. Both of us eyed the other blatantly and my stomach started doing flips as I approached the bed. It's not like we had discussed whether or not I was going to allow him to touch me or not, but there was this untold tension that said we both knew the offer was there. I flopped down on my back, attempting to come off as casual and not like my heart was thumping at a million beats per minute, ignoring his fiery gaze.
"You can't walk in like that and then act all innocent," he mumbled, looking down on me with a devious expression.
I admit that I wanted to kiss him, touch his skin and make him hot, but I was way too shy to initiate it, so I was thankful when he pushed off his elbows and rolled onto me. I grinned slightly nervously as his legs slotted between mine and he brought his face closer.
"I don't know what you mean," I fluttered my eyelashes and tried to seem confident, and in response he bit down on his bottom lip.
"God I'm hard already," he muttered, his vulgar comment making me gulp and my façade totally falter. My stomach was churning, and his hot breath flooding my face was making my skin tingle.
I couldn't stop my eyes from falling closed, and he used this to his advantage by pressing his lips hard against mine, catching me off guard. The kiss didn't even start out slow, it was rough from the very beginning. His tongue was colliding with mine messily and his head was moving with the motion, deepening the kiss.
He shifted his weight onto his forearm, using his other hand to hold and massage the curve of my hip just underneath the material of his top. I moved my leg, trying to bring it closer to the other despite the fact one of his was in the way, and he grunted when just above my knee pushed against his crotch. I moved my leg back down but he ground his hips down against it to get that same friction again as he continued to move his mouth with mine passionately.
My hands slid up his bare back, fisting his hair as he ducked his head down to kiss my neck harshly. It struck me that we'd never been in so few clothes whilst kissing, which both excited me and made me even more nervous. I could feel every inch of his skin against my own, and it was starting to become clammy the more heated this encounter got.
I whimpered when he took my skin between his lips and sucked, smoothing his hand down over my outer thigh. He hooked his fingers around my knee and pried my leg open, moving his in-between both of mine without detaching his mouth from my neck. Suddenly, his fingers were gently running over me through my underwear and I took in a sharp breath which made him raise his head to look at me closely.
"Okay?" he checked, and after I'd finally exhaled I nodded. His fingertips stroked me up and down as he hummed deep in his throat. "Jess," he whispered lowly.
"Mmm?" I replied in a high pitched noise.
"Will you touch me as well?" Although he had a lustful and assertive look in his eye, he spoke hesitantly like he was shy.
"Yes," I breathed out before I couldn't think about it, and he dipped his head to kiss me deeply again.
He moved my underwear to the side with his fingers and rubbed me gently. I shakily inhaled through my nose, sighing into the kiss as I boldly slipped my hand past the band of his boxers. He tensed when I wrapped my hand around him, feeling the proof of how hard he was.
I steadily moved my wrist and he groaned throatily, pressing his middle finger into me and stilling momentarily before sliding it out carefully. My pace quickened ever so slightly and he eventually sped up to match it, eliciting a trembling moan from me as he pulled away from my lips and breathed hard against my shoulder.
It was hot - touching each other like this. I'd never been so turned on. I had butterflies in my stomach and heat creeping up my neck into my cheeks, unable to close my mouth although no sound was coming out. My other hand was pressed against his sweaty back, feeling his muscles move under the skin as he slipped his finger in and out. I could hardly concentrate on moving my own hand up and down his length as I was so consumed by the pleasure he was giving me.
I moaned loudly and clawed his back when I felt him add another finger, curling both of them upwards with every quick thrust of his hand. Involuntarily, I squeezed him in my palm and he cursed, jerking his hips and panting heavily next to my ear.
"Oh God," his voice was deep and rumbled in his chest, making a familiar jolt of electricity shoot through me down to where his fingers were moving. Small sounds started slipping out of my mouth with every breath, and I gripped his flexing bicep.
"H-Harry," I whined breathily, tilting my head right back and gasping for air, which only spurred him on. My hand was moving faster on its own, squeezing and thumbing him without even processing any of it.
"Fuçk, yes," I got out, in a way which was almost a squeal, feeling my high approaching fast. Harry placed an out of breath kiss to my lips and kept his face close as my breathing suddenly sped right up. My mouth fell agape in a silent scream, my back arched up and my head went back when my body froze and then came crashing down in a wave of pleasure with an overly loud moan. My legs shook as I came and I was writhing underneath him on the mattress, my face burning hot and my mouth dry.
Once I'd finally come back down to earth and stopped moving, Harry slipped his fingers from me and I squirmed as I watched him wrap his tongue around them before holding onto my waist. I put all my focus on him now, still pumping my hand rhythmically. His face contorted in bliss now that I had all my attention on making him feel good, and he groaned with his forehead against mine.
"Jess- Fuck- I..."
The way he couldn't even form a sentence told me he was close. I kept moving my hand and he kept bucking his hips to push himself in and out of my palm, unable to control himself.
"Come on, Harry," I urged him to let go, using as seductive of a voice as I could muster, making him grit his teeth, beads of sweat running down his temples.
"I'm... going to-"
And with that, his mouth fell open and he pushed himself towards me one more time and moaned as he started to come. I hadn't even thought about where he would come, and ultimately he made a mess on my exposed lower stomach and on his own tshirt that covered the rest of my top half. Once he'd stopped I let go of him and he collapsed half on me and half on the bed with a huff.
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THIS CHAPTER STARTED ALL CUTE AND THEN IT WENT OFF ON A DIRTY TANGENT I APOLOGISE.
I actually planned this ending differently but it was SUPER long so I stopped myself. Hopefully you forgive me for taking ages to update. This story is getting close to reaching 100K views and I am reaaaally excited about it omg. You guys also got it ranked number 117 in Fanfiction last week so thank you very much :)
On a side note, just FYI, WheresHazZayn is translating Illicit into Italian! Idk why you would be if you're already reading it in English, but if that's something you're interested in then you can find it here: https://www.wattpad.com/story/53566020-illicit-hs-au-italian-translation
Q: StylesClarityxx: What's your favourite song at the moment? x
A: I'm quite liking Justin Bieber's new song 'Sorry', and I cannot stop listening to 1D's Take Me Home album for some reason haha!!! I just love it right now.
Q: derailedthoughts: Favourite cereal?
A: I'm not much of a cereal person in that I don't eat it for breakfast. But I would have to say Krave, I don't know if that's just a British thing so if it is and you have no clue what that is then I am sorry.
Q: @frogprinceharreh: Do you have a Harry kink you like to read about? (Daddy ;))))
A: I don't actually think I do!? Each to their own and all, but the daddy thing just doesn't do it for me. I actually find it kind of cringe. Idk, I guess I just like it in fics when he's kind of dominant lol.
Highlight with a q!
My q for you: I'm actually intrigued by that question, haha... Do you have a Harry kink you like to read about? ;)