Emily's POV
I snap out of my numerous day dreams about Harry beating the crap out of my demon-father by the ear-piercing sound of glass.
I snap my head up to inspect the source of the sound and see Harry and I's his and her mug. I feel anger coarsing through my veins and I push the person who was at fault of this. My mother.
"Fucking bitch!" She screeches at me after I perform my movement, eyes blazing with fire.
"Get the out. Now" I spin to see fuming Harry behind me, and in the background I see a limping figure of my dad mumbling something to James before his contracted body has vanished.
My mother storms out, murmuring something about 'burning that bitch' to the ground. She slams the door behind her and silence cascades around us.
"I'm sorry I invited them, and for beating up your dad, and for telling you to be ni-" Harry begins, though I break his meaningful apology by a short but sweet kiss.
"You didn't know, I'm sorry for not telling you." I look down at the floor, knowing none of this would've happened if I wasn't as closed up.
"I'll clean up the mess." Harry gestures to the shards of our mugs scattered on the floor. I nod and walk into the kitchen before countering back, "And, I'll help."
I retrieve the dustpan and brush from its respected place and I walk back to the scene. I kneel down by the wreckage and start to collect the fragments into the dustpan, with the brush.
Not long after I've accomplished my goal of getting all of the pieces, Harry waltz' in and stops dead in his tracks while he stares at the now spotless floor. "You cleaned it up without me?!" He frowns and kneels beside me.
"You were taking too long." I reply in a teasing tone while elbowing his slightly in the arm. He throws himself on the floor, making the impact of my small fist even worse, I then take this as my oppurtunity.
I place the contents of my hands onto the table safely, being sure not to spill a dust-spec and I straddle his waist, which surprises him to say the least.
He jumps, causing me to fly for a second and him hitting his head on the cold wooden floor. He rubs his head, prior to intensely gazing into my eyes.
He tilts his head up and meet him, moulding our bodies as one and we kiss. Slow but passionate.
Harry turns the tables, so I'm on the bottom and his plump, now pink-redish lips leaving my ones. His next move sends a flock of 1000 butterflies around, he pepper kisses up and down my neck to the bottom of my collar bone.
I press my hands against his shirt and tighter them around the thin fabric, causing his actions to freeze. I can just feel his heavy breathing against my now uncovered collar bone.
"I've always wanted to do that, Em." He says after our moment of silence. He's breathless, just by one mediocre part of my body.
Strange? Yes. Did I find it cute as well as a sign loving? Yes.
I blush at his statement before looking into his jade eyes before stating. "You've kissed me before, Haz.."
"Yes, but only your lips and cheek. I want to kiss all of you, make sure you feel loved at any hour of the day, every day, every year for the rest of your life."
From a pale rosette colour, my cheeks are now attacked by a furious crimson colour.
Great, just great.
Just as he was going to dip his head down to my neck, the doorbell rings. "Parcel for Mr.Styles!"
"Fuck sake. Every time." Harry sighs quietly while I just laugh and push his off gently and equipping myself with the rubbish and making my way to the kitchen. While, Harry walks in the opposite direction and opens the door.
I pour the entries of the dustpan into the bin and I close the lid quietly after.
I wander back into the living room prior to placing the dustpan and brush to their appropriate place.
I see Harry tiptoe up the stairs out the corner of my eye. "Harry babe, where you going?" I decide to call him out. My actions result in him slipping down a small number of stairs and spinning around, hiding the alien object behind his broad back.
"Whatcha got there, mister?" I inquire, taking a step forward, which results in Harry feeling his way up the stairs with the pads of his feet.
"N-nothing babe, none of your concern." He stutters being galloping up the stairs, never catching a single glimpse of the mysterious object Harry is occupying in his hands.
"I will find out." I say to myself after I hear a door close from up above me, probably the storage room.
I will, defiantly.