My hand holds Harry's, my eyes casted to the stairs ahead of us. We walk up to the top, and I meet the same hallway that I made my discovery of Harry's bright smile. Though I've never seen it, just seeing it contained in a picture from only a few years ago still gives me a heart pounding effect.
When we come to a big, black door, Harry opens it and he moves in front of me before I can look. I look up at him and his hand comes to my face. He removes the mask and takes his own off, my lips curving when I see his appearance in full again. My cheek is taken in his hand and he runs his thumb gently against the skin, causing me to close my eyes.
"I get you all night," he says, resting his head on mine. My heart races and I just hope I don't disappoint him. I'm not nearly as ready to go all the way with anyone, and I fear Harry is anticipating it. Only my utmost infatuation is what is carrying me through tonight.
He allows me to enter his room and I take it in, always intrigued as I go into anywhere in his house. It's an enigma; a perfect type of home considering the owner.
There's a fireplace, couches, open windows, and a huge bed beyond any size I've ever even heard of. It could be its own home in here.
"Harry," I say, his hands setting on my waist from behind. He brushes my hair back and kisses my neck.
"Yes, darling," he responds, and he brushes his hands over my stomach. He connects his hands, holding me to him.
"I don't usually do this," I tell him, and he doesn't loosen his grip. It's almost as if he's tightened it. The thought of him trying to do anything to me tonight makes me flush, but I know I won't be able to follow through with it. The nerves and my own thoughts would eat me alive. I'd need to know him more; understand and fully know him.
I spin in his arms, wanting to know what he looks like during this conversation. He just takes hold of my cheek once more, and he brushes his thumb along my lower lip.
"Darling," he whispers, my lips puffing out what feels like rapid breaths. He's making me so incredibly aware of how I react when I feel something for a man. I never knew what I'd be like, but I'm out of my mind for him.
"How about I give you a shirt to put on and we can talk for a while?" he wonders, my head nodding. I know I'd be wearing his shirt regardless, but I accept the fact I won't have pants on. All I want is to know he will be here, and I'm sure he won't mind. At least I have tasteful underwear on.
He walks over to a drawer and hands me a black tee, looking into my eyes. "You don't have to worry with me," he assures, and I bite my lower lip. It's when I feel his lips touch my forehead, I feel myself breathe again. The touch he sets on my forehead makes me feel so protected, easing my fears.
Harry shows me where his bathroom is and I close the door behind myself. I lean against the opposite wall for a moment, running my hands over my face to snap myself back into reality. My arms reach back to find the zipper and I pull it down, taking a deep breath. The beautiful dress falls to the floor and I'm left in just my underwear. My hand reaches for the tee and I quickly pull it over my head, pleasantly surprised how it falls below my bottom.
I'm eased into comfort once more.
When I grab the dress, I make sure it's in a way that won't wrinkle it. Then I step out of the bathroom, moving to find Harry. He steps out of his closet and looks at me, my eyes unable to not look at him. He's shirtless and only wearing a pair of joggers, my breath hitching in my throat.
"Want me to hang it up for you?" he asks, and I can only give him a nod of my head. His tattooed torso is artwork and I can't believe I'm even in his presence. When he returns to me, I reach to grab his hand. He takes it and moves them up, leading me to spin around. After, he lifts his hands to my hair, removing all the pins that contained my curls to let them fall around me. My eyes close, the feeling soothing. When he's finished, he lifts my chin and my eyes open to meet his.
"Darling, I have to go lock up the house. Feel free to wander around."
I thank him, biting my lip once he walks out. With his permission, I take a few minutes to wander around. There isn't much on the walls in his room other than a few pieces of artwork; artwork that is probably worth more than my life. With my curiosity, I flip the fireplace switch and the flames rise. Deciding to keep it on, I walk closer to the dresser he has.
I see a few things laying on the surface, but I stop at a small frame. It's of him and a girl, my hand taking it in my grasp. It's clear the two are incredibly happy together, his arm wrapped around her chest as she sits between his legs. I'm not one who knows what love is, but this is clearly it. The beaming smiles, the hold he has on her, and the absolute beauty between the two of them is enough for me to know that he was in love with her.
After I set it down, I think about what could have happened. Maybe she left him, broke it off and he's not over her. Or she cheated. He wouldn't have it if he was the one that ended it.
My thoughts come to an abrupt end and Harry walks in, and I move towards the couch and take a seat. He sits beside me and I kneel on the seat, trying to hide my underwear discretely.
"What'd you find?" he asks, curious about my exploration in his room. "I see the fireplace is on."
He sends me a soft smile as his arm extends over the back of the couch, looking over at me. It takes the courage I have to try and not bring up what I found, but it's not going to leave the back of my mind. I bite my lip and he leans closer, bringing his finger to my lips. I release my lip from between my teeth and look into his eyes.
"Ask it," he whispers. I'm sure he knows what is racking my brain but doesn't want to talk unless I ask. He keeps looking over my face, curious but anticipating.
"Who is she?" I reply, barely breaking my voice into a whisper. He doesn't take his eyes off of me, my heart pounding. I'm not all that jealous; in fact, I'm not at all. I don't mean to pry, but I just simply want to know him more.
"Her name is Mariana," he tells me, and I nod. I don't want him to elaborate for me, but I can't stop thinking about it.
"Come here," he says, waving his fingers over. My feet meet the floor and I climb onto his lap, his hands grabbing my waist to situate me to a position comfortable to both of us. He takes my hands and I keep my eyes on him, his eyes look into mine.
"I was 18 in that picture; she was 17. We were in our final year before we were going to college," he starts, my fingers stay entwined with his. "We were two weeks into summer when she left to go with her family on a trip to Ireland; it was where she was going to school. I received a call from her mother a week into her being away. There was a car accident, and both her and her father passed away."
My heart nearly breaks into a million pieces. I did not even know the girl, but the news is enough to make anyone sadden. He clearly has come to terms with it all, spending years to cope with the horrific event. All I do is grab his cheek, his eyes not leaving mine.
"That's one of the only pictures we had together," he tells me, and I don't say anything. There isn't anything I can say because I don't know the pain he feels. I've lost my mom, but I've never lost someone I was in love with. I've never even felt what it's like.
I bite my lower lip and I can't think of what to do. It is a sad thing to talk about and I'm not very good at talking about it. So I just move down and wrap my arms around his neck and his arms move to cover my entire back, tightly embracing me. My body is fully pressed against his and I can't let him go, my body so secure and safe with him.
"I'm sorry," is all I can say, but I don't expect anything in return. His strong grasp is all I could want, all he needs, and I don't think of moving.
When I feel Harry loosening his grasp, I lean back and he looks at me. He brushes my hair behind my shoulders, and he keeps our eye contact, my lips puffing out.
"She'll always be in my heart, Rhiannon. But I've had quite some time to move on," he lets me know, and I nod. I understand completely, and I would never pry him away from the memories he has.
"I've met new people, had people come into my life that have changed it, impacted me to who I've become, and I've found you in there," he tells me, moving his hands to my cheeks. He sits up further, looking at me intensely as I can't seem to find the words. His words are so beautiful, and I can never seem to find the words to match his.
"I want to take care of you," I simply tell him, knowing men don't really hear that all that often.
Harry smiles at me, his lips forming into a curve to display his dimples. As I hold his wrists, he brings my head towards his. Our lips meet and I am consumed in our own reality once more.