***Louis Tomlinson***
Monday, April 2nd, 2012 – North London, England

Harry and I were doing much better since we’d had our major blowout fight a week ago. He hadn’t cut – although I had, to hold true to my promise that I would every time he did; he just didn’t know it yet – and we hadn’t fought. We’d spent a lot of time just cuddling, holding each other, enjoying the presence of the other one. It was absolute, complete, pure true love and I loved every second of our time together. I still worried about him – a lot – but he had been doing okay. The guys had checked on us a few times since they’d come to the rescue, and seemed satisfied that we were alright. Harry had said that Niall was pretty shook about the cutting, so we vowed to make sure and keep things upbeat on the next leg of the tour, which started up again in less than two weeks; for ten days in Australia and New Zealand, then we had another month off before the craziness of the North American tour started. It was time to focus. Of course, focusing was always a problem when you lived with Harry Styles, because he was so beautiful it was impossible to take your eyes off of the kid.

We were watching a movie Monday night, him lying on the couch with his head in my lap, and I was caressing his hair like always. I sat there, thinking about how much I loved that boy, and I knew I was ready.

“Harry,” I said. He twisted his neck and looked up at me. I bent down and planted a kiss right on his lips, taking him by surprise, which I loved doing – it helped turn me on even more. He secured his hands around the back of my head and kissed me back, and then we fumbled around to stand up. I pulled my lips away long enough to look at him, and we had an unspoken conversation with our eyes. Then Harry took my hand and lead me up to his room. He shut the door behind him – which was funny since no one else lived there, but it did make the setting more intimate. I put my hands against his chest and slammed him against the wall, kissing him some more, and then I reached my hands down and pulled his shirt up off over his head, throwing it carelessly on the floor. He pushed me back – our lips still locked – and he tore my shirt off of my torso as we made our way to his bed. He threw me down on it, crawling on top of me and unbuttoning my pants, which he removed along with my boxers – neither of us had been wearing socks or shoes. I reached up and did the same with his shorts and boxers, and we were both there, completely naked with each other for the first time in a setting other than a dressing room. All the other times we’d fooled around, we’d been half clothed. Harry was taking it slow for my sake, and I wanted to reward him for that.