updated again. oh sue me. chapter song; any
<<dream>>
In my dreams, he would pepper sweet kisses down my neck. Hold my hands, entwined fingers as he pinned them above my head, letting his lips wander across my collarbones. And I'd fall more and more into this blissful paradise.
In real life, however, he would angrily glare and snap at me consistently. When the the night was over, and he would wake me up with a shake, I would realize what my thoughts shadowed over my mind at night. I realized what I dreamt of, what I wanted from Harry.
His lips on mine. Darting down between the valley of my breasts, caressing them both in his large hands. And he would be gentle. He'd show me he cares through his affection. But in reality, it is all very different.
And when he removed every article of clothing on my body, leaving me bare, he would smile to himself. Because he knows I wouldn't want to be vulnerable and intimate with anyone else but him.
I like the way he stares at me in real life, however. Because somewhere in those eyes, he feels this burning ache inside of him, too. In a way, he knows. He knows he'd want to be the only one who can undress me.
The only one to have me draped across his sheets afterwards. I know because he's told me so. And ever since, I can't put together the strength to stop being controlled by this urge for him.
Perhaps because I'm only seventeen, and he's twenty. He believes he knows more, and I'm just naive enough to feel connected to someone who might as well never feel similarly.
When I think about him, I crave his touch. His deep, husky voice admitting everything he wants to do to me. All the things I said were twisted, only because I want them, too.
I want his mouth kissing the soft skin of my inner thighs, a smirk on his lips because he knows. Just how he knows everything else. I want to feel his kiss on mine, more than anything. Oh, and his warm skin against mine. Hard to resist and so easily to fall in love with.
Panting. In my dreams, there was much of that. I could hear myself writhing under him, and I could hear him saying the things he swore he would. "i know, baby, i feel it, too."
In my dreams, we would also talk to one another. He would smile and call me adoring things, claiming he's never met someone who makes him less angry. And then right then I'd fall for him more. Like the weak, sensitive girl he said I was.
Only if they were real, would I never hesitate to be his.
And it is so ridiculous because I don't even know why. He was assigned to me for a reason, he was put here with me for a purpose. I think. I want to believe.
And maybe that is why I don't prefer another life.
I woke up so suddenly, completely out of breath. There was so much perspiration on my skin, I felt a bead of sweat trail down my forehead from my hairline. I groaned and rolled my eyes, falling lazily down onto my back once more.
The sheets became too hot, so I kicked them off. I'm sick of neglecting my thoughts about Harry during the day, and when night comes reliving them over and over again.
What was there to possibly do, when I will never know how to even start? I shook my head and laughed at myself. I barely know what it is that I'm feeling. If it was lust, it would have disappeared by now. Because I'm certain his personality would have driven me away in an instant.
But I keep coming back for more. I want him to be the one I can talk to, and he would try to understand. Being the absolutely opposite, Harry neglects any emotion around me. And I just wished that maybe he'd let it slip.
I decided on taking a walk. It was 2:38AM, as I read the clock by the bedside table. A glass of water could help me find the sufficient exhaustion to sleep for at least another hour or so. I stood and made my way downstairs.
That was only to be greeted by the sight of Harry. His head lying on the desk, eyebrows furrowed and his eyes closed with sleep. The form of his messy curls all over the place, his arms resting against the desk as well, above his head.
The bright light from the computer screen was dimmed. I peeked up at the screen and saw a map with marks on it. I squinted and read some of the marked locations.
It was Mexico, to Italy and other areas like Hawaii and England, New York thrown in there. I figured the map located every place we've been to or are currently in.
I sighed to myself and peered down at Harry. His pink, plump lips were closed as usual. Anger and discomfort seemingly endless on his features.
Even asleep, he looked beautiful, and dangerous. His tatted arms rested for the first time without flexing or showing any sign of rough movement.
"You're so confusing," I whispered to him as quietly as I could, reaching to run my fingers through his soft, thick curls. I pushed them back from his face, pulling my hand away suddenly, afraid that he would wake up and confront me with annoyance and fury.
Then I went into the kitchen for the purpose I came down the stairs for. I went into the fridge and found the water pitcher.
I turned around and found the cabinet with the cups in it. Pulling a glass cup down, I nearly dropped it and shrieked when I turned and saw Harry standing there.
He watched me lazily, tiredly. "What are you doing, Catalina?" He rasped quietly, the energy sucked right out of him.
I exhaled slowly and grabbed the pitcher. "Just getting water."
"You should be sleeping," He quietly paced towards me as he began to rub his eyes. While I took a tip from the water, I gazed up at his movements. He was so...cute when he was tired. Nothing about this man was cute in general, but this, a sleepy Harry, is so adoring I almost vocalized my thoughts.
"So should you," I replied back just as quietly, pulling the cup from my lips.
He slipped his hand onto the cup, brushing his fingers against mine as he pulled it out of my hold. I watched as he took a sip from the opposite side of the area I placed my lips in. Harry set the cup on the counter and sighed.
"Go to sleep, yeah?" He whispered, pale green eyes groggily staring into mine.
I nodded slowly. "I am. Just as you should."
"Don't be concerned for what I have to do," Harry persisted slowly. He was obviously not in the mood to yell or even be bothered to express his irritation. I could practically see him passing out right in front of me if he didn't get to comfort soon. "Go."
My arms crossed over my chest. "You need to rest. And if you don't, then I won't either."
He raised his eyes to the ceiling, as if asking the Gods above for patience with me. Gazing back down at me, he murmured, "Fine. Stay up with me. Don't complain tomorrow morning."
And so I went on to read on the tablet he passed me as I sat on the couch behind his desk, where he went back to working. I scrolled aimlessly through various books before settling on some random title. As I began to read, after half an hour, my eyelids began to give up on me.
I tried to keep my eyes open, but to no avail as I began to let my head fall to the side. And when I found the soft cushioning of the couch, my half-asleep body curled up and fell into a light sleep.
That is when I felt arms wrap around my body until they got a bridal position and lifted me up in the air.
By the smell of his cologne, I knew it was Harry. Half asleep, I gently allowed my head to rest on his shoulder. "Harry, what are you doing?" I slurred.
"I'm carrying you to bed. I told you to sleep, Dollface." He exhaustively murmured. "But of course, you never fucking listen to me."
"Shh," I hissed softly, wanting him to be quiet for one of the first times.
"Oh, she's fucking shushing me now," he grumbled beneath his breath,. The sound of a creaking a door spilled out into the air. Suddenly, I was placed on a soft mattress, a blanket covering my skin in warmth. I happily lied there, content with the new surroundings.
Harry's footsteps were the last thing I heard before I completely fell into darkness.
note // one last update before i knock out. hope to see your opinions and votes! goodnight <3
also, some of your comments are hysterical ily