Hazel's P.O.V
The rain falls in sheets, drumming against the windows as thunder rumbles far off in the distance. It's wild and exciting, but it's nothing compared to the thrill of Harry's sweet kisses. Nothing in the world could take my focus off of him- not the pouring of rain, the flashes of lightening, not even the howling wind. The storm outside is merely a distant melody set to the rhythm of our beating hearts. My body, my mind, my soul- they're his, and nothing else matters.
Our slow and magical kiss burns into something more urgent and more desperate as we cling to each other. Without breaking our kiss, Harry rises and pushes me back against the bed. I collapse into the pillows as he steadies himself with one hand, the outline of his strong arms in the moonlight making me gulp. He pulls away just enough so that his body barely hovers above mine. My already pounding heart feels like it might fly away as my eyes slowly run up his long torso.
Suddenly, I'm overcome with dizzying nervousness. A tidal wave of self conscious thoughts comes tumbling across my mind, all reminding me of how terribly inexperienced I am. I have never once been this intimate before. I mean good gosh almighty, Harry's the only boy I've ever even really kissed. Well, technically that isn't true, my brain reminds me, but after experiencing the way Harry's mouth fits into mine, any kiss Billy McKee ever gave me officially does not count.
"Hazel?" Harry calls to me in a whisper. His voice is thick and heavy like the richest of chocolates and it sends my already knotted stomach into a flurry.
"Mhmm?"
I have no clue what I'm supposed to do, and based on Harry's expert abilities, I'm pretty sure he is not in the same boat as me on that one, which of course presents another whole other set of worries.
"Hazel!" Harry playfully yells under his breath. He lightly nudges his nose against mine bringing a smile back to my face. "What on earth are you thinking about, sweetheart?"
I close my eyes tightly as I feel my cheeks burn. I'm so embarrassed that he must be able to hear the pounding of my jittery heart. "Nothing," I lie.
Harry lets out a heavy breath. I open my eyes, but I'm still too nervous to look up at him. I can only focus my gaze on the way his chest rises and falls. After a moment, his free hand gently cups my face, turning me up to face him. His wild eyes come crashing into mine and just as I feared, they take my breath away.
"Tell me," he whispers. His eyes stare down with an edge of seriousness, but with an intimate focus that could only be heightened by lust.
"It's just- I don't know what I'm doing."
He smiles sheepishly.
"Forgive me. I know I shouldn't be here like this." His breath is hot against my skin and I bite my lip.
Cautiously, I reach up and lightly place my hands on his chest. I can feel his heartbeat racing through his shirt and it drives me wild to think that I might have any bit of an effect on him. Harry's eyes flutter open, blinking twice as he stares down intently at me.
"Never," I whisper up to him with a small smile. The fretful lines of his face soften as a dimpled grin takes over his mouth.
"I love you, Harry. I want you here," I say. "I- I need you here."
I can't stand the distance from his mouth. I tilt my face up to capture his lips again. Gently lacing my fingers through his small tufts of curls, I slowly scratch the back of his neck as I keep his mouth pressed to mine. Harry lets out a low moan that makes my toes curl. He slows our kiss, opening his mouth just enough for his tongue to caress mine. My stomach lurches at the new sensation as it awakens an even deeper lust than I thought possible.
Harry continues to kiss me without reservation, not stopping even as a flash of lightning cracks across the dark sky and lights up the room. His lips drag across my jaw and slowly move down my neck. An involuntary gasp escapes my lungs as his soft lips pull at my skin. Luckily, my pleasure is muffled by the roar of thunder and the return of his lips to mine.
We pant wildly as we try to keep up with one another, but with each passing moment, I feel as if his breath slowly becomes my own. When he presses his mouth to mine, my chest swells and threatens to burst. It feels as if my soul has finally come up for air after floating just beneath the surface, unaware of how sweet and crisp it feels to truly fill every ounce of your lungs with life.
"I love you," I manage to say between our wild kissing. I've probably said it a million times tonight, but I'm desperate for him to understand how deeply I mean it.
Harry pauses to look down at me. His hooded eyes are piercing and it sends a shiver up and down my spine. "I love you, Hazel."
Suddenly, a loud thud bangs at the end of the hallway. Harry and I both jerk our heads up to stare at the door, terrified of what would happen if we're caught. We hold our breaths as heavy footsteps pass by my door and make their way down the hall.
"It's probably just Uncle Ben," I whisper, my eyes still on the door. "He won't come in."
"I should hope not," Harry laughs nervously. "Blimey, he thinks I'm working on a report tonight." His eyes widen comically as he thinks it over. He's so cute, I can't help but laugh. Harry's hand juts out to cover my mouth as he looks down at me with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
"Oi, you goof, you want me caught?" he laughs. I shake my head, rustling against the pillows as I do so.
"Mm-mm," I giggle underneath his palm.
"Oh really?" he laughs, cocking his eyebrow as he playfully looks down at me with doubt. "Really now?"
"Mm-mm," I repeat, my giggles deepening. Harry's smirk grows as devilish excitement takes over his face.
"You're a bloody gorgeous little liar," he chuckles seductively as he stoops down to kiss my neck. His lips graze an incredibly sensitive spot along the top of my shoulder causing me to squirm and giggle deeply. Harry laughs into my neck, shaking his head about like a wet dog. We both fall into a fit of uncontrollable laughter.
A door creaks down the hall and Harry and I immediately stop. Harry's cheeks puff out as he tries his hardest to keep his mouth shut. The urge to laugh becomes nearly unbearable. He holds his finger up over his mouth, short breathes escaping his nose as he tries his hardest not to laugh.
"Don't do it," he whispers with a glimmer in his eyes. "Don't," he mouths, stifling his own laughter.
I nod while covering my mouth with my hands. One ridiculous sound or thought and I'm a goner. I force myself to think of math equations and the smell of old newspapers to try and deaden any sense of humor, but Harry's cheeky grin and taunting gaze make it incredibly hard not to giggle. We wait for the clumping of Uncle Ben's footsteps to return to his bedroom, finally letting out our laughter when we hear his door shut.
"Good gravy, woman, you're gonna get me killed," he cackles. It's that pure, yet rough kind of boyish laugh that kills me. I immediately fall into another fit of laughter as Harry playfully pinches my sides. Only thing is, he has no idea how ticklish I am. Just as he moves in to kiss me, a zing shoots up my side and I involuntarily jerk my leg, kneeing Harry right below the waist.
My eyes shoot wide open as Harry cringes and falls onto his side.
"Harry!" I squeal, clasping my hands over my mouth. "I'm so sorry!"
"Yep, she's trying to kill me," he groans, still curled up. He reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose as he tries to recover. He's so damn cute that paired with my nervous guilt, I can't help but laugh a little. "You're a cruel dame," he teases, peaking up at me under an arched eyebrow.
I pick myself up so that I kneel beside him and gaze down at his adorable wincing. "Oh, Harry, I really am terribly sorry. Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," he says with a little puff of laughter.
"Heavens, I'm such a klutz."
"Yeah, well, at least you're a pretty good lookin' one."
I snort at his ridiculous grin and roll my eyes. When our gaze meets again though, my pulse immediately quickens. Harry stares back with such a radiant, yet simple smile. It's as if he can see into my soul. It's unnerving and yet addicting.
"Come here," he whispers to me. Extending his arm so there is room for me in the crook of shoulder, I happily nestle into his embrace, tucking my arm snugly around him. He leans over and places a kiss on top of my head before settling back against the pillows.
Harry and I lie there in sweet drowsiness just enjoying each other's company as the storm rages on. As the hours pass, the hard rain eventually quiets into a wet snow, dusting the outside world in winter magic. Even though it's a bit cold, I'm a little too nervous to get under the covers with him. Somehow, inviting him underneath my sheets feels like a line that we shouldn't cross. I'm probably just being a nervous nelly, and a hypocritical one at that, but Harry makes no mention of it whatsoever. He simply wraps us in the extra blanket I brought over from my dresser earlier and holds me close to him.
Into the early morning, Harry cradles me close to him, his hand fiddling idly with my hair as I listen to the steady beating of his heart. Some moments are quiet and serene, filled with silent appreciation for one another. Other moments are for sweet kisses, and as we fight off our drowsiness, we eventually begin to gab about everything on our minds. From music to silly stories about ourselves, we find ourselves in a back and forth tennis match of questions.
"Most embarrassing moment, then?" he asks me.
"Nope, never had one," I reply firmly.
Harry throws his head back against the pillows and lets out a deep laugh at my firm response. "Oh come on, I told you about how I like to paint."
"Harry, how on earth is painting embarrassing?" I laugh, keeping my eyes focused on the snow gathering on the windowsill as I nuzzle into him. "I'm just saying, I feel like that only proves how interesting you are."
"I mean, I suppose that does make me a proper Renaissance man," he quips. I shift my gaze to shoot him an annoyed look. "But.." he laughs, "It's not exactly the first thing I mention when the other lads are up for a bit of boxing."
"Well, that's just silly. You can do whatever you want."
"Quit changing the subject. Fess up, Roses. What'd you do?"
"It's embarrassing for a reason," I whine.
He narrows his eyes at me with a playful smirk. "Tell me."
I cringe not wanting to, but I know he's hellbent on pestering it out of me. I look up at him through scrunched eyes as I confess, "I couldn't say my S's and Z's."
"You had a lisp?" He smiles.
"Stop it," I warn with a pointed finger as his smile widens. "It went on way longer than what's considered cute."
"Wait." Harry grins through a toothy smirk, "Does that mean you couldn't say-"
"My own name?" I shamefully moan, covering my face with my hand. "Yep. My teachers absolutely hated it- Thought I was being lazy. They'd make me practice in front of the class and oh, it was just so awful," I gripe, burying my face into his chest.
Harry strokes my back gently. "Still, doesn't seem to trouble you much now, though?"
"After a particularly bad lesson, I was so mortified that I forced my brother to coach me every night for nearly a year. Even now, on a couple of words, I have to really think about it before I speak. I think it's why I feel as if I've swallowed a toad when I'm in front of a large crowd."
"What do you mean?"
"Well you remember how I froze at Gran's party."
"Yes," he says, his forehead crinkled as concern washes over his face. "I didn't know that you felt that way in front of every crowd though."
"Oh absolutely. When I was ten, I was tree number three in A Midsummer's Night Dream. I didn't even have a speaking role and I somehow managed to take out two fairies and all of my fellow shrubbery when I keeled over from nerves," I chuckle in embarrassment. His dimples deepen as he smiles sympathetically, though his firmly pressed lips tell me he's working hard at suppressing his laughter.
"I just feel like I'm an absolute fool and that the world can't wait to point it out."
Harry mouth settles into a small frown. "I know the feeling," he says quietly.
"You're so natural at everything you do, though" I say, turning on to my stomach so I can more easily look up at him. "It's hard for me to imagine you that way."
Harry lets out a snort. "Trust me, Roses. I feel plenty insecure at times."
He breaks our gaze, focusing instead on fixing a piece of my hair. I fold both my arms in front of me, laying them flat across his chest and a bit of his arm. Resting my chin on my hands, I stare up into his eyes until he looks back down at me.
"I think you're brilliant, Harry."
Harry lets out a little laugh that almost sounds like a sigh. Shrugging his shoulders, he quips, "Well, that solves it then. No more insecurities here."
I narrow my eyes at him playfully as he returns to brushing his fingers through my hair. After a moment, he pauses and looks back into my eyes. "Don't kid yourself, Roses. You're bloody brilliant as well."
My heart bursts. "I feel brilliant when I'm with you."
A radiant smile takes over Harry's kind features. "You sweet talking me, Roses?"
"A fine fella like you? Why naturally," I taunt. Pushing myself gently up, I crane my neck up to kiss him. His lips feather lightly over mine in the sweetest and most tender manner. It sets my heart on fire.
"You know I'd still love you even if you still had a lisp," he chuckles, clutching me a little bit tighter. My years of awkwardness have always made me feel so crummy inside, but somehow telling Harry has lessened the pain of it all to the point where I feel as though I can even laugh at some of it.
"You know there are still some words I can't say?"
His eyebrow arches inquisitively. "Really?"
"Successful," I mispronounce, all of the consonants falling flat as if I had the verbal strength of a two year old.
Harry grins wide, "You're adorable."
"I'm unsuccessful, is what I am," I laugh, again completely butchering the word. At least now I'm able to let it most of it go. "Happy now?"
"Over the moon," he smiles.
"Ahah!" I vindictively taunt, sticking my tongue out, "That means it's my turn and I get to ask a hard one."
"Shoot."
Harry chuckles as I wrinkle my nose and twist my mouth in concentration, but I won't let his dimpled smile distract me from the opportunity of asking a trickier question. Only problem is I can't really think of anything all that clever.
"Tick-tock, m'lady," he teases.
"Hold on!" I giggle. He rolls his eyes at me, but begins to laugh the more frustrated I become at my lack of creativity.
"Come on, now!"
"Fine!" I laugh. "What are you most afraid of?" It's weak, but Harry seems like such an even tempered person, I can't imagine him really afraid of anything. Harry responds with slightly furrowed eyebrows as he stares forward.
"Spiders? Heights? What's your poison?" I tease, but when he looks down at me, concern etched into the lines by his eyes, I pause.
"I used to think it was being sent off to war," he says, "but now I think it's losing you."
His words break and mend my heart ten thousand times over. I can't even concentrate on the compliment of it all. The thought of my sweet, lovely Harry on a battlefield makes me want to vomit.
I sit up so that my gaze can reach his straight on. "You are not going to war," I command. "I won't let you, I won't."
"I'm afraid you don't have much of a say in that, love," he says quietly with a little smile. England's made no move towards formally starting a war that I know of at least, but I'm suddenly overcome with irrational worry. The world does seem to be heading towards ruin and for Harry to be caught up in it puts a lump in my throat.
"Hey, hey, hey," he coos. Harry's hand reaches up to hold my face, his thumb running across my cheek. "Roses, I didn't mean to upset you. I only meant to tell you how much I care for you. Just the few hours today thinking you were lost to someone else made me go absolutely mental."
"I hate the thought of you fighting some god forsaken war just because some people can't seem to find a single kind bone in their body."
Harry pouts slightly. "Alright now, you know it's more complicated than that."
"I just can't stand the thought of it Harry."
Harry skooches upright a little, clasping my hands in his. "And I can't stand the thought of not being with you."
"I am with you," I say. "I'm yours, darling."
Harry leans forward and places a kiss on my forehead. "Then we have nothing to fear tonight."
His tender gesture is meant to silence my concern, but his use of the word tonight frightens me. How long will we be able to avoid what everyone in the paper's been talking about?
"Harry?" I squeak.
"Yes, love?"
"I don't think I could stand it if anything should happen to you."
Harry places both hands around the side of my face. He whispers, "It won't, I promise."
"You swear it?"
"I swear it, Hazel." I know it's something he can't really promise, but I need something to hold on to through the anxiety of our crazed times. As Harry gently kisses my cheek and then the top of my nose, and finally my mouth, I play his oath over and over in my head.
"Come back and lie with me," he says and I happily oblige. We settle again into each other, but the mood has definitely changed.
"What are your plans for this weekend?" he asks, changing the subject. He squeezes my arm tightly, and I know he must be still thinking about it like I am.
"I'm actually off to visit Lucy."
"Lucy?"
"Yes, my friend that I met traveling here. Remember, you met her that night at the dance." I smile remembering how incredibly handsome he had looked standing across the dance floor.
"Ah, Niall's red headed gal."
"Has he talked about her?" I look up, excited to do some digging for Lucy. She hasn't told me everything, but from her flirty implications, I know she is quite keen on him.
"Every bloody minute," Harry laughs. "But you didn't hear that from me," he adds with a pointed finger.
"Maybe you'll both want to visit us? We're planning on going to that winter fair. It's apparently close to Lucy."
"Ah, yes. The lot of us usually go each year, but we wouldn't be intruding if we met up?"
"I'll check with Luce, but I should think it would be more than fine."
"Well, alright then," he smiles. "It's a date."
I smile into his embrace and soon the anxiety that had risen in my chest begins to fall back down. We continue to cuddle, still asking each other questions about one another. With every new piece of information, my love just seems to grow. Kissing and touching Harry is such an exquisite feeling, but magical as it is, I don't think it compares to the truly wonderful sensation of becoming closer with his spirit. To know him feels like a far greater gift than I'll ever be able say thank you for.
As time passes, his already slow and hypnotic voice become more gravelly with sleep, until finally, I myself drift off. Before I know it, a deep groggy voice is nudging me awake.
"Roses?"
"Mmhm?" I moan, keeping my eyes shut. I cling to Harry, loving the way he keeps me warm in the now very cold room.
"Roses, I've got to be headed home."
"No, thank you," I groan, wiggling closer to him. He lets out a sleepy laugh and a little groan as he stretches. His foot shakes ever so slightly as he extends his leg reminding me of the way a puppy shakes off sleep.
"What time is it?" I ask, shutting my eyes again as I resist the day.
"Nearly five, I'm afraid." His voice is much deeper than usual, and when it skips a pitch, I can't help but smile madly at how incredibly cute he is in the morning.
"I've got to go love. I've got to get back in the house before my parents wake."
I drag my eyes open and with a deep yawn look up at Harry. He chuckles at me and with a quick kiss on the forehead, begins to shuffle out of bed. I fall back against the pillows, arms spread above me and a goofy grin on my mouth. I'm too tired to care about how I look, I feel so perfectly content.
Harry pads across the room and I smile as I watch him button his shirt back up and pull over his coat. He turns around and smiles devilishly, albeit somewhat sleepily, at me.
"Come here," I whisper, motioning for him to return to me. He pads across the room and crawls on top of the bed so that he is back on top of me.
"You rang?" he asks cheekily. I reach up drowsily and smooth out his wild hair earning a little laugh.
"I love you, Harry. I really, really do."
"I love you too, Roses." With that he plants a firm kiss on my mouth. I wrap my arms tightly around him not wanting him to leave.
"I'll come back to you, I promise," he whispers as he pulls away. Harry quickly puts his shoes back on and makes his way to the window. He swings it open and gingerly makes his way out. Before he descends, he looks up at me and says, "Sweet dreams, my sweetheart."
His smile is as a brilliant as the shade of the navy blue morning. I smile back at him, and with a little wave, he shuts the window and starts his journey home. With a little squeal, I roll on to my stomach and clutch my pillow, ecstatic from how much joy and love now courses through my veins.
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