-Ava's POV-
Laughter.
It escapes my lips, my hand landing on top of them to stifle it.
The dirty looks we received did nothing to stop the devilish smirk that was directed towards me, the constant complaining like a child.
"It's a slug carrying around a bloody house on its back. Admirable... But I'm not putting it in my mouth... No."
"It just snails."
"Wretched." Harry scrunches his nose up, looking down at his plate.
"Why did you order it?"
"Did you see the menu? Not a word of English."
"Funny, being we're in France."
"Can't read a lick of it."
"Shame you told the chef you loved it. Now you'll have to eat them all or he'll be offended." I tease, causing Harry's eyes to widen.
"Never seem to know when to keep my mouth shut. Hand me your bag yeah?" He nods towards the small bag hanging off the back of my chair.
"Why?"
"Desperate times."
"You're not putting those slimy things in my purse." I shake my head at him.
"Ah... So I'm not the only one who doesn't fancy them?" He raises an eyebrow at me, "Now do a lad a favor and help me smuggle these out."
"Oh no, I'll never get the smell out."
"I'll buy you a new one, love."
"It's vintage."
"Come on, what'll it take? Name it and I'll get it for you."
"They're that bad hmmm?"
"Horrid. Name your terms McCain."
I narrow my eyes at him, my mind playing over the various things I could demand.
"Your tan boots."
His mouth drops open, his eyes narrowing to mirror mine. "Pure evil is what you are. They're my favorite."
"I know. They're my least favorite."
"Way to kick a fella when he's down. I'm over here, eating rubbish and you've got to ask for my boots?"
"Yup." I smile. "Snails or boots, you decide."
"Bloody hell woman." He looks down at his plate then back at me. "If I get sick on these, I'm blaming you."
I laugh as he picks one up, looking at it in disgust.
A little over an hour later we are headed back towards the villa, snow coming down and coating the country side.
Harry focuses on the road, having insisted on driving back. We pass by several villas, me directing him where to turn.
The snowfall is heavy by the time we reach our destination. We rush inside, me laughing once again as Harry slips and falls into the snow.
"Meant to fall." He closes the door behind him, shooting me a smirk. "Don't want you bored now do I?"
I roll my eyes at him as he chuckles, shrugging his coat off his shoulders.
"Fire's out." He steps into the living room. "I'll get it started. You want to get us some drinks? Brought some wine, it's in my bag."
"Ummmm, actually I should probably get to bed. Pretty tired."
"Right, yeah me too... yeah." Harry looks down at his feet, obviously disappointed our night is ending.
I don't want it to end either, but I know it should. Us paired with wine and a fire would not be taking things slowly. Not in the least.
"There's some pillows and blankets in the hall closet."
Harry glances at the couch then back at me, "So we aren't... we not even sleeping in the same bed anymore?"
"Well I... No. Taking things slowly remember?"
"I won't try anything." He says quietly.
"Not you I'm worried about." I reply honestly, my cheeks flushing.
A small smile plays on Harry's lips, "Sure... em.. Can I walk you to your door at least? Is the only way to end a proper date you know."
I nod, my footsteps carrying me up the stairs and towards the only bedroom in the house. I feel bad, having him sleep on the couch. But I know it's for the best.
I feel his presence behind me as I stop in the doorway, turning around to face him.
"This is me." I smile, Harry chuckling at me.
He steps forward, pushing a strand of hair out of my face and tucking it behind my ear. "I know it's not customary to say on a first date... but I love you."
"I love you too."
He smiles, glancing between my eyes. "Can I... Can I kiss you?"
"Maybe just a small..."
His mouth is pressed against mine before I can finish my sentence, his hands holding my face as his lips mold around my own. It's soft, so soft, as if he's afraid I could crumble in his hands. It's him telling me he loves me. It's him, telling me he's sorry.
"I'll see you in the morning yeah?" He asks, pecking my lips once more before letting go of me.
"MmmmHmm."
"Now don't be making those sounds, hard enough already on a lad to leave you like this."
"Sorry." I widen my eyes, realizing my agreement sounded more like a moan. Good going Ava.
He chuckles, telling me goodnight before heading back downstairs.
It takes everything in me not to call after him. I'm still upset, still hurt, but I need comfort and I want it from him.
I stand my ground, closing the bedroom door behind me and resigning myself to the fact I'll be sleeping alone again tonight.
Three hours later, I'm still awake. I've tossed and turned endlessly, my mind not being able to calm down enough to let me sleep.
I sigh, pulling the covers off myself and standing up, prepared to carry out the same routine I have every day since I've gotten here. Attempting to ward off my insomnia with a hot cup of tea.
It's something Louie got me hooked on when I was on tour with them. He insisted it would help my sleepless nights and he was absolutely right. The only problem was after I drank it and was ready to fall asleep I still couldn't, not with him and Zayn a bunk away, bickering and joking.
I walk down the stairs softly, careful to not make any noise as I head into the kitchen. Thankfully it's a separate room then the living room, so I don't have to worry about waking Harry up.
I open the cabinet, pulling out a mug and the canister I keep tea in. Finding it empty, I reach for an unopened box, it resting on the third shelf. Of course, it's just out of my reach and no amount of standing on my tip toes and stretching is going to help.
I groan quietly as I try to reach for it, a sudden pressure on my back startling me.
A large hand reaches above me, grabbing the box off the shelf. I feel my heart rate increase as Harry hands me the box, his chest still pressed up against my back.
"I wake you?"
"No." His answer is short and his voice is low as his hands land on my hips, making my breath hitch in my throat.
I'm frozen, unable to move, box still in one hand and the mug in the other as Harry pushes my hair over one shoulder.
"Just tell me when to stop." He whispers against my neck, his lips grazing up the surface.
My head immediately drops to the side on it's own, giving him more access. His teeth softly nip the skin, making my eyes screw shut.
He quickly turns me around, taking the mug and box out of my hands. His hips press against mine as I lean against the counter, my whole body feeling like putty.
He takes my hands, placing them around his neck before gripping my waist.
I gasp as his kisses me roughly, his tongue slipping into my mouth as he presses himself firmly up against me. I can feel his excitement through his boxer briefs, them and my thin pajama shorts being the only barrier between us.
He groans into my mouth, the same small groan he breathes out every time my tongue presses against his.
I freeze, my mind going to a place I wish it wouldn't. To all the woman who have heard the same pleasured sound come from the back of his throat.
I push him away, our lips making a small smacking noise as they disconnect.
"I can't."
I push past him, not even looking him in the face as I make my way towards the stairs. He doesn't follow me. He knows.
I close the bedroom door behind me, locking it before falling down onto my bed.
I don't cry, I'm not sad.
I don't throw things... I'm not angry.
I don't know if we'll be able to make it back to where we used to be. So many lies.. so many unnecessary lies.
No, I'm not sad or angry...
I'm scared.
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