A/N: Here it is...! I hope you'll find this makes up for the angst of the last few chapters?! Wattpad notifications have been a little screwy again, so please ensure you've checked out the previous chapter (uploaded on Saturday), or else this won't make any sense... Enjoy! Xx
8th February 2018
After only sleeping fitfully, Harry dragged the boys down to the hotel gym, bright and early.
Whilst Mitch and Tom sat drinking their coffees in silent protest, Jeff dutifully tagged around after him, keeping a watchful eye as he bounded between cardio machines and weights.
They all stare, impressed and a little intimidated, when he started going to town on the punching bag; intent on burning up the last of his restless energy.
>
After the sauna, steam room and then the pool, Harry realised as they grabbed some lunch that he had nothing to wear. Unconvinced there'd be anything clean he could grab from the rest of his stuff still scattered around Fujii's house, he decided they needed to go shopping.
Throughout most of his time in Tokyo, he'd been living in tour merchandise, black sweats, hoodies and beanies, or else a limited repertoire of ratty t-shirts, a pair of vintage blue jeans, and an oversized khaki jacket.
But none of that would do for Eloise. After four long months and everything he put her through? He'll need to bring his A-game.
Heading outside, the boys were amazed at how little fuss Harry attracted as he slipped in and out of the taxi and stealthily into the Gucci store.
Afterwards, he'd had them stop off at a barber shop Kunichi recommended, just for a little trim and a spruce up.
What a tart. The guys lent some levity, ribbing him over his sudden vanity and underlying nerves.
>
But the barber didn't style it quite right, so as soon as they returned to the hotel, just before 5pm, Harry headed straight to the bathroom to turn on the shower.
After eyeing the time nervously, then unfastening his watch, pulling off his rings, emptying his pockets, and setting his phone to charge on the nightstand, he promptly started stripping off.
"You gonna sort yourself out, yeah? Good idea", Tom heckled, ignoring Harry's scoff, "I am absolutely not kidding, mate!". Unperturbed after failing to dodge the socks pelted in his direction, he calls out after him, "Four months? Poor little Harold will be gunning for some attention!". Grinning smugly at the others, he ignored Harry's rude gesture as he slammed the bathroom door shut.
Boys will be boys.
>
But, admittedly, Harry was in there a while.
The waterfall shower head did amazing things to the tense muscles of his neck and shoulders.
And, fine, Tom may have had a point.
It's been hard not to get his hopes up unduly, but he figured that might at least help take care of one potential distraction.
>
Emerging from the bathroom in a cloud of steam, with one towel wrapped around his waist and one over his head, Harry's vision is obscured as he vigorously rubs his damp hair.
Whipping back his still lengthy enough wild curls, he shakes his head in an attempt to dispel the dizziness.
When his vision settles, he gasps in shock and drops the towel from his hand, stopping short a few metres away.
Raking his fingers nervously, distractedly through his hair, desperately trying to tame it, he casts his unblinking gaze over her, drinking her in.
She looks flustered; frazzled and rumpled. And pale. Skinny too, in black leggings, and with comically big hotel slippers dwarfing her bare feet. Her cropped damp hair falls in tousled waves above her pronounced collar bones, and her hands are tucked nervously into the too-long sleeves of her cream knit jumper. Her eyes seem a bit bloodshot behind her glasses - perched a little wonkily across her bare face.
But, God, she's actually here. The emotions flitting over her expressive glass face reveal she's tired and confused and cross and a little shellshocked... But she's here.
And he thinks she's never looked more beautiful. Genuinely.
Staring back just as brazenly, her first thought is that he looks buff... So sue her, but come on!
Against the contours and shadows his muscles cast across his unusually pale skin, a myriad of ink peeks out at her - swallows, butterfly, heart, rose, eagle and much more besides - like old friends, saying hello.
But he looks scruffy too; with his grown-out hair curling around his ears and almost grazing his jaw, and a heavier five o'clock shadow than she's used to. And, judging by the pronounced shadows under his eyes, she's not sure when he last had a good night's sleep either.
He seems older and more mature, somehow, in just four months. Broader, bigger, manlier.
Fuck, she's missed him.
>
There's a heavy, weighted silence after the door finally shuts behind his three best friends.
"El, I'm-", he starts tentatively, but she cuts him off, finding her nerve and fearing that whatever he has to say might render her incapable.
She blurts it all out. "You-, You did the very worst thing anyone's ever done to me... You hurt me, so badly. And made me question and doubt everything about us... But you also did the very best thing anyone's ever done for me. I can't understand it and I have a million questions and a billion things to say... But, right now, I can't think of anything apart from how much I've missed you... I hate you a tiny bit, but I love you, so, so much-".
A sob catches in her throat, causing her to whimper.
Heaving a deep breath as her vision blurs with unshed tears, she staggers a little in her ridiculous slippers and, reflexively, he strides towards her; stepping smoothly in and scooping her into his arms on instinct.
They can't get close enough, quickly enough. Her soft curves melt into his harder planes.
Totally overwhelmed, her shaky breaths catch and stutter up her throat, releasing in a trapped, hiccuping squeak, high in her chest.
Her soft peal of laughter, embarrassed, sets off his disbelieving chuckle, but he swallows it as hers tails into a proper sob.
When she crumples against him, entirely boneless, he takes her weight and holds her up effortlessly.
"Oh, El...", his voice is a little wobbly too and comes out in a bubbling chuckle.
Lifting a hand to cradle the crown of her head, he bends his knees to lean back to get another look at her, but she just shakes her head and burrows further into his neck.
Before he can comprehend his unexpected stoicism and sense of calm, he feels her press a soft kiss to the juncture of his neck and shoulder, and his knees give out too; literally.
With a yelp, she flings her arms out for balance, but it's too late and they land in an ungainly tangle of limbs. But, dropping straight down on to his shins, he reflexively cushions her fall, pulling her on top of him.
Sprawled on the floor, they remain entwined, just breathing each other in.
Holding tight and with hands scrabbling for even closer purchase, they find reassurance in each other's thumping heartbeat.
They're otherwise silent, bar rogue sighs, sniffs, hiccups, and sobs.
Minutes pass, and neither makes any move to let go.
Quite the opposite, in fact.
Awkwardly bent up, with one foot underneath her and one planted by his hip, she unfurls her long legs. Stretching them out, of quite their own accord, they end up sliding around his torso to cross tightly behind his back.
As her shifting hips inadvertently meet some resistance, she cranes her neck back, looking at him wide eyed.
"Fuck, I'm sorry!", he blushes. "It's, well, it's you... And it's been four months. I just can't believe you're here... But I'm sorry, that's fucking embarrassing. I'm not some horny teenager. And-".
"H?", she cuts him off.
"Hmm?", he reaches up to thumb the tears from her cheeks.
"Can you kiss me? I need you to kiss me", she whispers, eyes dropping to his inviting pink lips.
There's a whine of longing from low in his throat, even as his lips tug into an irresistible smirk.
Surging in, he just catches himself.
Raking his fingers through her bobbed hair to comb it back from her face, he then strokes his thumbs over her jaw and neck, gazing at her in disbelief.
Fluttering her eyes closed, she whimpers softly, at both his touch, and the effort to keep her hips still.
As he leans in slowly, she gasps at the feel of his breath hitting her lips, readily parting them, in invitation.
Her hands grapple him closer, tracing the defined muscles of his back, rippling as he shifts and strains to hold himself back.
Leaning closer still, to rub his nose gently up and down hers, she mewls.
That noise alone crumbles the last of his resolve, and he finally surges forward.
>
How can one person feel like home?
Familiar pillowing, pressing, hungry lips.
Sliding, stroking, silky tongues.
Irresistible sighs, hums, whimpers.
Needy, tugging, frenzied hands.
Chests, hips, hearts melding.
Home.
Oh, God, why can't he seem to stop kissing and touching her?
She's addictive, and he's binging hard after painstaking withdrawals.
It leaves him light-headed.
And, breathless, she lets out another sob. Overcome with emotion, her racking shiver rattles against his frame.
As he pulls back, just enough to be able to gaze into her watery eyes, he feels her tighten her arms around him, in desperate need of grounding.
But the look he sees flash fleetingly in her eyes makes him shiver a bit too.
Is that uncertainty? Pain? Regret?
But it's gone just as quickly; replaced with a look he has no trouble recognising.
Hunger.
She pounces.
Wrapping her long, lean, surprisingly strong legs even tighter around him, intentionally canting her hips, she surges closer and captures his lips hotly.
He can barely keep up.
"Wait-, Hang on-", he says around frantic kisses.
"Sex first, talk later. Please-", she begs in a husky whisper.
"El, hold up...", he cranes his neck back, and looks up to the ceiling, trying to momentarily block out the distraction of her in his lap, with those eyes and those lips. "I can't risk just falling into bed with you if this, us, isn't a sure thing".
He drops his head and eyes her intently, desperately trying to decipher those swirling pools of dark blue. They've never felt like such a mystery to him. "...That would fucking finish me off", he admits lowly; the soft and honest tone of his voice at odds with the piercing intensity of his stare.
Detangling her fingers from the curls at the nape of his neck, she offers him a soft half smile. "I jumped straight on a plane, didn't I?".
Then, taking him by surprise, she pulls her jumper over her head and swiftly reaches to unhook her bra.
"Whoa, El... I'm serious-", he tries desperately to keep his eyes locked on hers, but he's not a saint. And, come on, it's been four very long months.
"Shh...", she hushes him. With one hand demurely holding the silky fabric of her bra to her chest, she twists in his lap to reveal her left side to him.
Looking down, he gasps.
"...I somehow couldn't bear to see it incomplete". A loaded statement if ever there was one, she holds his watery green gaze as his eyes snap back to hers.
"Baby...", he finally says it. But he doesn't quite know what else to say, thumbing the small and feathery soft musical notes inked on her ribcage against a smudge of muted rainbow colours.
He can't help but sing She's Like a Rainbow quietly as he stares at it, spellbound. It's delicate and pretty, but thoughtful and speaks volumes; just like her.
His heart swells at the thought of her going through with it, when, ostensibly, she should have been hating him. But it also simultaneously breaks a bit, at the thought of not being there to hold her hand, like he'd promised.
"We need to talk it all out, but I'm not going anywhere, okay?", she drops her free hand to cradle his face, tilting it up to look at her. "We'll deal with it all, together, I promise... But I need you-, I need you to ground me, somehow, please?", she implores softly.
After kissing him once more, softer this time, loaded with feeling, she pulls back again, dropping her forehead to his.
"Will you just answer me two questions?", she asks, a little hesitantly.
"Anything", he promises quickly, albeit lathing kisses to her collarbones, not quite able to meet her eye as he tries to steel himself.
"Were you always intending to come back to me?".
"Yes, always!", his eyes cut back up to her in shock. "Well, if you'd have me... And if you wouldn't, or couldn't forgive me, then I'd have done anything to explain and try to make it up to you", he says earnestly.
Shaking off her relieved if slightly dazed expression, her brow furrows as he leans slightly back and twists away from her. Following his gaze, down towards his torso, it's her turn to gasp.
It's subtle, but it's definitely there. His fine line.
A neat, black line tattooed vertically down the lower ribs on his left hand side, below the birdcage and cluster of existing ink. "It's my new favourite, and the most special by a mile", he admits with a soft smile.
Lifting a shaky finger, she traces it before cutting her eyes back up to his; his emerald orbs are already locked on hers, swirling with heady emotion.
"Just promise me one thing-", she whispers.
"Anything", he repeats, cutting her off in his eagerness.
"I think I understand why you did it, but please, please, just promise me you'll never make that big of a decision about us, without me, ever again?".
"I promise", he exhales. "God, yes, I promise. I wouldn't want to, I couldn't go through something like that again".
She drops her forehead back to his, letting out a long and relieved exhale of her own.
"Was that your second question?", he prompts.
When she squirms in his lap and gets bashful, he knows exactly what's coming.
"No... Umm, did you actually-? Was there anyone else?", she whispers before literally holding her breath.
"No! Absolutely not, I swear to you". When she sags against him in relief, shifting on his lap, he has to bite back a groan. "I've been a monk... Well, a monk who wanks a lot, but still... I won't even ask you, I know I don't have the right-".
"You don't have to", she cuts him off, allaying his worst fears. "Barry, my security detail was no competition, trust me", she chuckles, thinking of his jowls and silvery hair. "I've hardly seen anyone else", she shrugs and then drops her gaze again. "...But I was trying to make myself hate you, so I've not even been sorting myself out", she can't help but pout.
"Sounds like I owe you orgasms as well as apologies?", he can't help but grin and jostles her shoulders playfully.
"Better get to it then", she smirks and meets him halfway in an eager kiss.
Wrapping his arms tightly around her back and bum, he takes a deep breath and grunts. Rocking forwards to free his feet from under him, he heaves up to standing with her still wrapped around him like a koala bear.
Quickly finding her lips again, it's a distracted and ungainly stagger to the bed, where he drops to sit with her still in his lap.
But it's her that pushes him back and then rolls, lying back and pulling him on top of her. "I meant what I said about needing grounding...", she explains. "Please, just let me feel you".
After eagerly peeling off their scant few layers and quickly reacquainting themselves, things abruptly turn slower and more serious.
It's languorous, intentionally so; both desperate to last to have time to reconnect.
It's intense and emotional too; they both cry.
If his kiss felt like home, she can't even begin to describe this... Almost like a rebirth-? Wait, no, that's weird.
>
Round two, back under that waterfall shower, was more energetic, more carnal, more needy.
Then, after switching off the lights and slipping back into bed, with legs and bodies and hands entwined, they finally talk; for hours.
In the near darkness of the bedroom, in hushed tones, interspersed with sniffles and whimpers, they lay themselves bare all over again; even more exposing.
Truths, hurts, feelings, emotions, regrets.
Then promises - resolute ones; never again.
>
Clearing his throat, Harry asks shyly if she'll fill him in about Zayn after the Golden Globes. "...I'm just curious; I couldn't figure that out", he shrugs with a puzzled expression.
"I wondered what you might make of that", she smiles softly, nudging his shoulder. "I didn't even see the photographer, but it was nothing... Well, not entirely nothing", she twists to look up at him, to watch his reaction.
"I was feeling a bit overwhelmed, so as soon as I arrived at the afterparty, I headed straight for the toilets, for a breather... But, needless to say, I was the punchline of the joke when I emerged from a stall to find Kendall, Cara and Taylor staring at me in the mirror". Now, in hindsight and with him naked at her side, she can't help but smile as he blanches.
"Fucking hell! Really? God, I'm so sorry...", he winces, looking sheepishly down at her.
She mirrors his expression playfully. "Well, when Bella stood up from taking a line and made a catty comment about you, I whirled out of there just as the other girls started squabbling amongst themselves... Zayn had been waiting for Gigi outside, and, seeing them all filing out after me, he must have had a hunch. After pressing, he didn't hesitate to put Bella in her place. He sassed that she might know a thing about cheating, but that in all the time he knew you and saw thousands of girls literally throw themselves at you, he never once saw you cheat on anyone". She smiles as he raises his eyebrows in shock. "So yeah, I just chatted to him for a few minutes, then snuck the hell out of there".
Harry didn't know what he'd been expecting, but it certainly wasn't that. Mulling it over, deep in thought, he figures Zayn was always really principled, and definitely fiery when in protective mode.
>
Eloise asks if his mum and Gemma knew anything.
"No, not really", his lips turn down at the corners as he picks at a thread on the duvet. "It's killed me, but I know how much they love you and was worried they wouldn't be able to resist defending me online... I just couldn't risk anything being let slip by anyone, and inadvertently putting you in danger".
She wraps her hand around his, stilling his fidgeting. "I can't begin to thank you for that, but I feel terrible that this mess has come between you and them... Can we FaceTime them tomorrow?".
He grins, already looking forward to resolving that tension.
She doesn't have the heart to admit it, but, in return, she realises she needs to ensure her dad fills Ollie and Lucas in. It's safe to say they have not been on Team Harry. But, as furious and broken hearted as she was, she couldn't bear to hear a bad word against him, and they'd had multiple spats over it all. She's barely spoken to either of them for weeks now.
Harry's curious to hear which of his, their, friends reached out to her.
"Well, Adele might tear your balls off with her bare hands", she warns. "Rosie must have a massive soft spot for you, and was adamant something wasn't adding up... And Stevie reached out and urged me to give you the benefit of the doubt". He swallows thickly.
"Mitch and Sarah checked in", she adds, "Glenne too, and Jeff tried". Then she grins, "And Niall was amazing; he even gave me his key to stay in his penthouse if I needed a break and had to get out from under Dad's thumb".
"How has it been, with your mum?", he asks softly.
"Honestly? Worse than ever, somehow", she shrugs with a frown. "Dad thinks that once it's all resolved, something will change, but I'm just not sure... She's lived in fear of all this for twenty-five years, I'm not expecting sunshine and rainbows overnight".
>
"Everyone's going to freak when they hear about this, us", he lifts their joined hands to drop smiling kisses to the back of her palm. "Not least my label and publicists", he adds with a chuckle.
"Oh, God, they must hate me?", she winces.
"Why would they hate you?".
"Err, all that terrible press after that fucking stunt?".
He can't help but scoff in recollection. "That's on me, not you. Don't you worry about that. Like I said, only your dad, Ben and maybe Mer knew", he shrugs.
"And your team?", she prompts.
He shakes his head. "Only now. Only Jeff, and Tom and Mitch".
"Wait, Harry, your management and label and publicists didn't know?", she sits up and gapes at him. "What on Earth did they have to say about all those headlines?".
"You don't want to know, trust me", he laughs; he has to.
"I do, H", she insists. "Fuck, the damage you must have done-?".
He cuts her off to explain softly. "It was personal; need to know... And they didn't need to know", he shrugs again. "I've given them a pretty easy ride so far, so figured I could let them work for a bit of all that money they siphon off me".
"Oh, my God, we have to fix this!", she tugs at the roots of her hair in worry.
He reaches up and pulls her hand back down to his lap, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles soothingly. "It's done", he coos.
But she carries on regardless, strategising. "Legally, I can't say anything about him and I don't really want it out there, but we'll think of something, okay? Anything to help make amends... We'll sort something, together", she says pointedly.
"God, 'together' sounds good", he beams, teeth flashing in the near darkness.
He can't help but moot never being apart from her again. "...Better get used to it", he lifts her left hand to his lips and peppers it with kisses.
"That's not you asking, is it?", she ribs him.
"No, not yet", he smiles softly, catching her eye with an intense look. "But it's a 'when', not an 'if' for me, you have to know that?".
That certainly wipes the smirk from her face.
>
Just before 10pm, and just after round three - inevitably, after that - they settle down. Finally.
They're both entirely spent. Physically and emotionally.
Barely having slept in three days, her reserves are running desperately low, even by her new insomniac standards. And he hadn't managed much last night either.
But, entwined together, they both drop off to sleep, easily; for the first time in what feels like forever.
>
>
9th February 2019
In the pale dawn light, something causes Eloise to wake with a start from a deep and restful sleep.
Her still half asleep brain is on a lag, neither recognising the room nor the unfamiliar heavy arm draped over her waist, holding her firm against a muscled chest.
After an unconscious shiver racks her slim frame, she tenses and sucks in a ragged breath.
The arm lifts and torso backs up a fraction, but hovers close.
As the hand inches closer and she catches sight of the eagle on the underside of his right forearm, her senses snap slowly into focus and she lets out the breath she'd been holding.
"You okay, baby?". That low, rumbling, rasping morning voice is unmistakable and she melts back against him, inviting his hold again as he drops a contented kiss to her bare shoulder.
Fuck, that all really happened.
The unfamiliar ache between her thighs confirms it.
She twists on to her front and pauses for a second, collecting herself as she's face down in the pillow, before neatly flipping again.
Pressing impossibly, needily closer, she drops a soft kiss to his chest, right above his pounding heart.
Sliding one arm between his and his waist, she dances her fingers across the play of muscles over his broad back. With her head pillowed on her other bicep, she lifts that hand to cord her fingers through his hair.
His sweet sigh and smiling kiss to her forehead is at odds with how she feels him stir against her upper thigh.
He shifts back with a frown, "Shit, sorry, again. I just-, it's-".
Hooking her hip over his, she pulls their cores flush and raises an eyebrow at him in challenge.
"Well... It's you!", he huffs with a chuckle. "It's always been you". He never stood a chance.
She looks up and is left speechless at his intense look; enchanting emeralds outshining sparkling sapphires.
>
By early afternoon, when there's still no sign of them, Ben, Jeff, Mitch and Tom squabble quietly just inside the door into the suite.
Poor Mitch draws the short straw.
Grumbling, he hesitantly cracks the door to Harry's bedroom, and cocks his head to listen out. Hearing nothing, he braves a peek.
Shit, that's cute.
They're tangled in each other and the sheets. As close as can be, even fast asleep. She's on her back, but twisted with her hip over his. He's ostensibly on his side, but leaning right over her, his lips pillowed to her neck. Heads together in a tangle of blonde waves and brown curls. They're even holding hands.
Mind you, for that Mitch is grateful, the angle of Harry's bent arm is the only thing sparing his blushes from seeing too much of Eloise right now.
Taking a step back, he closes the door and releases the breath he didn't know he was holding.
Spinning to the guys with a toothy grin, he claps a hand to his mouth as he swallows a bubble of laughter that inadvertently comes out as a sob.
They're back; they'll save each other. Two of his very best friends... The relief is palpable.
>
After another hour or so, once the boys head back upstairs after lunch and hear some hushed noise from the bedroom, Ben raps his knuckles on the door as he passes. "Come on, lovebirds!".
But, evidently Mitch hadn't clicked the door properly closed again, and it springs open.
Ben realises a fraction too late... Just too late to avoid clocking his litter sister's naked back, sitting up astride Harry's lap.
"Arghh, fucking hell!", he wails. Grappling for the door with his eyes shut, he then sprints to turn up the volume on the TV, desperate to drown them out.
Oops.
But what can Harry say? He's a man of his word, and he was not kidding about making up for those four months of orgasms he owes her.
>
>
12th February 2019
After eventually dragging themselves from bed - finally well-rested, mellowed and positively beaming, if a little self-conscious - Harry and Eloise spent the next few days floating around in their little love bubble, both alone and with the boys.
Harry showed them his favourite vinyl bars. And introduced them to Fujii and Bel, and Kunichi.
At their insistence, he took Tom, Mitch and Jeff to hear his progress on the album.
With her track record hearing his new songs for the first time, Eloise knew she wasn't nearly ready for that, and hung back at the hotel for a heart to heart with Ben instead, finally clearing the air between them.
It marked the first time in a few of days that she had to go more than a few minutes without touching Harry somehow, and she didn't enjoy it at all... Evidently she's still not entirely grounded just yet, and more than a bit needy.
Alone, she and Harry made the most of nocturnal soaks in the deep, square stone bath in her suite - now theirs, after that incident with Ben - whilst savouring the mesmerising view of the city lights. And, of course, in the serene spa and pool too, with its sun-drenched daybeds laid out against those expansive windows.
>
They caught up on what else they'd missed, in each other's bizarre four months alone.
Work stuff, family news, friends' gossip. And, still adjusting to the idea of life back together, their long discussions about the next few weeks and months and years, filled them with love and hope and happiness.
Eloise received all the reassurance she could ever need about his promise and instance that he'd only ever intended their separation as temporary - however painful - when he pulled out his laptop to show her some properties he'd been keeping an eye on.
"Our addresses are out there", he explained, "And I won't take that risk, not anymore. The New York condo is like a fortress, but the houses in LA and London have us like sitting ducks...".
After refreshing some pages, and getting her head around the eye-watering prices, even she was disappointed to see some had since sold or been listed as under offer. "Oh, bummer... That one was bloody amazing!", she pouted, "You shouldn't have waited".
"Well, I wasn't going to decide on anything without you, was I? I promised, remember? No more big decisions alone".
"That was three days ago!"
"That was four months ago, believe me", he'd replied in all seriousness. "I might be prone to learning lessons the hard way, but I take them to heart when I do".
It was all the promise she needed from him, and then some.
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