[amber’s pov]
“I feel real dirty in these clothes, gosh. I think I seriously got a unhygienic-phobia going strong or something,” I chuckled as I shook myself a little in the clothes, as I seated on the floor up against the wall.
It was the fourth day in a row I was wearing this shirt - the first couple of days it had been the only one I had wanted to wear. It was the only ‘thick’ sweater I had, which hadn’t been Harry’s grey sweater. I hadn’t been able to even move his actual sweater from that spot on my floor those several couple of days. Instead I had been wearing another sweater reminding me of it, of him. So I hadn't been able to touch - and in no way wear - his sweater but only one, which reminded me of it. Insane. Merely from that act I knew how I had been - and probably still was - wildly stupid and wildly emotional, which was probably the worst cocktail on the freaking surface of earth when you had a secret to keep.
From the sound of my words Harry looked up at me from having scribbled in his journal. As he had done that the past ten minutes, I had curiously looked over some of the music note sheets in his room. After we had eaten more dry cereal and both gotten dressed, he had ever so politely asked if he could be ‘cruel’ enough to just take some minutes to write something down. I had actually gotten up from the bed and picked his new journal up myself to give it to him with a proud smile. ‘A million times yes,’ I had told him.
It wasn’t like I had interrupted him with my statement though - as I the last minute had felt his gaze occasionally rest on me, while I had been looking over his sheet papers and the handwritten lyrics on them. I reckoned he had finished writing down his beautiful thoughts, as I had stated my words.
His green eyes were sparkling again. And just the sight of them running speedily over my body to take in the 'dirty clothes' ignited a million tiny flames of butterfly wings in my stomach. God, he was so beautiful that I would probably never get used to the sight.
“I think dirty looks good on you to be honest,” he said with a lowered voice as his eyes reached mine. A smirk was sneaking in on his lips like a predator, which suddenly attacked and ripped his lips apart into one of those beautiful, crooked smile.
“Really good actually,” he chuckled as I hid behind the sleeves of the sweater. God, it wasn't even his words making me do this - it was his raspy voice and that intense gaze I was hiding from. How could you not, when you felt like a male model was checking you out, huh? And saying stuff - like that to you.
“If you want to,” he hesitated for a second making me peek out from my hide, “well ehm you can maybe borrow some of mine? Like only if you want to -”
I seriously had not had that in mind when stating my thoughts out loud. Not at all - but his suggestion seemed like such an appealing idea suddenly. Going from puzzlement to joy over his pure adorableness; I felt very cuddable all of a sudden in his presence and being in my huge sweater too. I got halfway up from my seated position on the floor and crawled cat-style over to Harry’s bed. Giggling the entire time, as Harry watched my childish behavior with huge beautiful green eyes, right until I planted both my arms on the side of the bed and rested my chin on top, “I like your idea Styles. Actually I pretty much adore the way your mind works all of the time, so yeah.” Shrugging, I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to fight the smile in a try to keep serious.
I watched with bubbling feelings, as a smiling Harry put aside his journal and the pen, “yeah really?” His eyes didn’t leave mine, as he impossibly slowly turned over in the bed so he was laying flatly on his stomach. He lowered his upper body so controlled and slow it told me he was definitely well trained under the white t-shirt, which I had been sleeping in.
I nodded into my arms till lastly he was resting his head on his hands just like me - and he was perfectly close. I could feel the warmth from his hot minty breath, feel his dizzily green gaze literally create goosebumps on my skin from the intensity. I loved watching him this close. It was like getting the chance to study a piece of fucking majestic art up close; in the highest possible definition.
“It’s like your eyes are... are seeing everything from a different angle or perspective you know? It’s like you see things, which seems so perfectly natural to everyone else - but you still manage to find something so unique in that thing anyway. It’s hard to describe,” I narrowed my eyes at him and made a humming-thinking sound. Meanwhile I had studied the effect of my words. His before so confident smile had slowly decreased into a more humble one, a proud but disbelieving one. Like he could easily come up with a hundred arguments for why I would tell him this as a lie.
“I wish I could say and write things as well as you do to be perfectly honest,” it wasn’t just the fascination with his beautiful view on life I would express if so. It was everything else too - why I had told him to stop that time in my apartment, which had ended up making him - I could barely stand to think the thought. I hated myself for having done it. I wish I could find the words to explain him everything, or the bravery.
“This is going to sound so cliche - but I just wish I was as brave as you.” I lifted my chin releasing my hand in the process. “You always know just what to say - how to explain,” I reached over the short distance and let my fingertips lightly touch the corner of his mouth. I could feel the softness of his skin all the way down through my straightened spine. “You don’t have to fear saying anything wrong because that would obviously never happen,” my eyes returned to his for a second, while a trying crooked smile was playing on my lips. I returned to just watch how my fingertip traced the fine lines of his pink lips.
There were so many things I wanted to say and explain. I had so much inside of my head and heart I wanted to share with him; because I wanted him to understand but also partly because I was starting to realize I couldn’t live with it on my own any longer. The weight of keeping my dark unpleasant secret from him was growing too heavy for me to carry.
Was I afraid of falling out of love as he had whispered as I had found him the night before? Or was I just afraid that telling him everything, giving him everything would eventually just push him away? Would the truth be too much?
I sighed defeated by the confusion; "I feel like I am walking on a staircase." My fingertip brushed over the roundness of his bottom lip, "and for every moment I ... open myself to you I am taking a step further up, you know?"
His lips were so full and perfect, "but for every step I fear it's going to break under me, you know?" My words came out more questioning than what I had imagined, "that maybe I tell you something that would make you back away, that would make the step I am standing on crash from your reaction."
Saying those words I had to fully concentrate on the play with how I let my fingertip move over his lips; I couldn't look into his eyes and say them, because I feared this would be one of those exact things, that would make him back away, freak out, make the step break.
"That is what I am afraid off." I took a deep breath, as an uneasy chuckle escaped my lips. I traced the curve of the middle of his upper lip, "because right now I am so fucking high up that fucking staircase, that I can't even see where it starts."
My fingertip stopped for a moment as I admitted the last few words; "I don't know if I could survive a fall like that again." Maybe saying this out loud was honestly even more a realisation of my own, than to let Harry know.
“Well,” his lips parted still with my fingertip frozen on his upper lip. He left them parted, as I started following the line curiously up to the other corner of his mouth, “you don’t have to be afraid to say anything wrong to me.” He spoke carefully with a low voice, that was so caring I just wanted to say everything right then. He had understood my pathetic staircase explanation it seemed.
I could feel his breath on my fingertip. Exhale, inhale. Mesmerizing.
“I think I would somehow understand it in the right way you know?” I could feel from the rhythm of his breath that his heartbeat was increasing in speed, as I tried concentrating on slowly following the shape of his lip with my fingertips; light as a feather. I had to. I had to force myself to focus on something else, while listening to him. Otherwise I wouldn’t be able to carry the weight of keeping the secret. And now wasn’t the time to let it out - not with Louis coming to pick us up for the band practice in five minutes time.
[harry’s pov]
She was driving me insane. I was so terribly close to the edge of twirling into unquestionable insanity, that I was barely even sure I hadn’t started falling already. Fuck. How. How the fuck did she do it, how did she enchant my every sense and mind and heart and every fucking cell of my body like this?
And it didn’t just happen once in awhile. Oh no - every fucking time she did something, anything, I felt like burning up on the inside and falling into deep madness!
God. I wanted so badly to … to fucking seduce her or something. I wanted to push her to that same place as she sent me with these things she did. Like touching my lips like this. And explaining so fucking beautifully like that what she was thinking. And just telling me these things, and hiding behind her sleeves, and the fucking crawling, and her fucking perfect sea green eyes, which was the color I wanted to drown in if I had to choose a way to fucking die.
I wanted to just - show her - just how obsessed I was with her. Explore every line on her lips as well, and see her lose her mind too. I would never let her fall. Never.
But I wasn’t going to push her into anything that could make her unsure. Still, that didn’t mean I was able to steady my breath and kill the fire in my skin, which made the temperature of the entire room rise.
I felt like laughing genuinely and breaking down all at once with her touching my parted lips like that.
“Babe,” my voice was shaky and her eyes flew up to mine only making the entire wave of insanity I was fighting desperately even more violent in its movements. “I really need you to stop doing that... lip-thing,” my voice fucking cracked at the end.
And seconds after an ‘oh’ escaped her sweet soft innocent lips - and the playful igniting touch from her fingertip was gone from my flammable lips in the same heartbeat.
She smiled apologetic, and went back to merely resting her chin on her hands - both of them - while we both listened to how my breath steadied. "And you know - I would never let you fall, Amber Moore," I removed one of those wild strands of hair from her beautiful face, which had kind of become a hobby of mine.
As my breath was finally back to normal and her wild hair was back into place the buzzing ring of the doorbell echoed through the small apartment.
please vote & comment
a/n; people have been very ... critical towards Amber's careful actions around Harry. So yeah this was kind of to let her explain you - that she doesn't do it to hurt him (god no!) but because she's terribly afraid to be hurt herself. So please don't ... call her names ... anymore *hugs character tightly*.
& loads of love to everyone for being such cutie pies by waiting patiently and for joining another epic group hug xx