Harry’s P.O.V

“Are you alright?” I asked Isabelle, crawling onto the bed. She was already nestled up nice and comfy in the covers, the blankets cocooning around her, and he back was to me. I frowned when she didn’t reply.

“Belle?” I questioned again, and this time, she rolled over, clad in only a tank top and shorts. I stared at her face and let my gaze wander down to the valley of her breasts, my mouth going dry. Stop, Harry.

“You alright?” I asked, shaking my head free of all of the unmentionable things I wanted to do to her. We were in my bedroom, Eleanor and Louis asleep in the room down the hall. El had been eager on letting Louis go over to her place, but he’d decided to stay here. She didn’t look too thrilled about that, and I wondered why.

“You seem a bit stressed,” I said softly, pulling off my shirt, now leaving myself only in my boxers. I slipped under the duvet beside her and propped my head up on one elbow.

“Hmm?” she asked, and then she sighed, “I’m not stressed. Just…tired.”

I nodded and smirked, bringing my fingers up to trace little circles on her arm. I snickered when goosebumps arose on her flesh, pleased that her body could react to me in that way.

“Do you want me to wake you up?” I asked innocently, leaning down and whispering the words in her ear.

“No,” she scoffed, and turned back around. I just chuckled and lay down, winding an arm around her waist. I kissed her bare shoulder and pursed my lips, “Seriously though, what are you thinking about?”

There was silence, and I was beginning to think that she hadn’t heard me, but then she sighed again, “I’m just worried, I guess.”

“About what?” I peppered kisses all along the prominent bone that stood out on her shoulder and the side of her neck. I felt her body relax under my touch. God, she was so gorgeous, it literally drove me insane. I couldn’t stand the thought of other blokes looking at her, she was mine and no one else’s, and that was how things would stay.

“Just…things,” she said, tensing up again. I let my fingers slip under the hem of her tank top and stroke the soft, warm skin of her stomach. She shivered lightly.

“What kinds of things?” I mumbled, all the while sucking gently on her neck. She’d probably had more hickeys in the five weeks of knowing me than she’d had in her whole life.

I was proud to be the deliverer of those hickeys.

“It’s really nothing Harry,” she squirmed uncomfortably in my arms, and I turned stern. I didn’t want her to be pulling away from me, we’d be going backwards instead of forward, and that wasn’t good.

“Belle,” I said seriously, and I spun her around. She looked taken aback at my forcefulness, but at the moment, I needed some answers. “Belle,” I repeated, “That’s not going to work on me. Tell me what’s going on with you.”

“It’s Dr. Grey,” she explained timidly, after thinking about it for a moment, “She kind of scares me.” This was the big thing that she was hiding from me? Her eyes told a longer and more complicated story, but I decided not to press for that much tonight. I sighed, “What’s she done now?”

“What do you mean, ‘now’?” she asked, and I shrugged. I couldn’t tell her that I’d been to Dr. Grey’s office before…with different girls. “You were upset last time we’d gone.”

She chewed on her lip, believing my pathetic lie. Good.

“I just feel wary about her, like I can’t trust her,” she mumbled, burying her face into my chest. I shushed her, consoling her, whilst wrapping my arms around her. When her head was comfortably nestled into my neck, I winced. Isabelle couldn’t trust the therapist. Because Dr. Grey was spilling everything to me.

This is for her own good though, a voice in my head nipped and me, and I mentally nodded.

What my girlfriend didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. I was doing this for her, because I knew that she had trust problems and would never open up to me completely. So I just had to get my information from another source, that’s all.

“Don’t worry,” I pressed a kiss to her cheek, not wanting to slip up, so I figured I’d just drop the topic for now, “She’s a great therapist,” I ensure her, “She’s just a little rough around the edges.”

Isabelle looked like she wanted to protest, her mouth opening to say something, but she seemed to think better of it, because she closed her jaw tightly and nodded. “Thanks Harry,” she breathed, “I love you.”

“I love you back, but multiply that amount by infinity,” I replied cheekily. She giggled into my neck and kissed my Adam’s apple.

I pulled back and pressed my lips to hers firmly, and she sighed as I gripped her hips, crushing our bodies together. I climbed atop of her, kissing her softly, no tongue, just our lips, but the kiss was absolutely perfect.

She giggled and wound her arms around my neck slowly, pulling back after a while and whispering, slightly out of breath, “We should stop. Lou and El are just in the other room.”

“So?” I asked cheekily, rolling my eyes playfully, and she giggled but shot me a playfully stern look, “Seriously Harry.”

“Fine, fine,” I grumbled, rolling my eyes dramatically, and I hopped off of her, settling back into my previous position on the bed. She smiled widely at me, “Good night. I love you.” I chuckled and kissed her forehead, my heart aching.

“I love you too,” I replied, pulling her body close. We just lay there for God knows how long before I could feel her body relax and her breathing slow down, and I knew she was asleep.

And then our breaths moved in perfect synchronization as I followed suit.

***

I awoke super early, and when I peeked at the window of my room, I saw that it was still dark outside. Craning my neck to catch a glimpse of my alarm clock, I soon discovered that it was two o’clock in the morning. For a few minutes, I just lay there, my eyes closed, trying to see if I’d fall back asleep, but with no such luck.

I unwound my arms from Isabelle’s body reluctantly and rolled away from her, swinging my feet of off the bed before standing up. I pulled on a pair of sweatpants, not bothering with a shirt, and slowly crept out of the room, careful not to make a sound.

Everything was quiet all throughout the house. When I passed El and Lou’s room silently, all I heard was heavy breathing, so I assumed that they were asleep or had just indulged in something very dirty. My bet was on the second one.

Finally, I entered the kitchen and flicked on a light. It was bright, and I squinted as my eyes got used to it. I made my way over to the pantry and opened it quietly, praying that it wouldn’t creak, and I pulled out a box of pancake mix. Then I walked over to the fridge, pulled out the milk, and grabbed a bunch of cooking tools from the drawers.

That’s right; I cook when I’m anxious.

As I pulled out a huge bowl from the cupboard and poured a cup of pancake mix into it, followed by another, I pondered.

Isabelle’s going to hate me. She will; I know she will. I haven’t been honest with her, I’m untrustworthy, and I can’t get my shit together. She’s going to find out, all at once, and it’s going to be too much for her. I know her. She’ll get overwhelmed with everything, overwhelmed and stressed. And then she’ll leave. That’s what happened last time, there’s absolutely nothing stopping it from happening again.

I can still remember the day that it happened. The day that I felt as though my life was over, and I know that sounds like an exaggeration, but that’s the farthest from what I’m doing right now.

She’d looked so beautiful in my clothes that morning. We’d been kissing. Then Gemma had called me out. We’d fought. I’d spit out that I didn’t love her. I can still picture Gemma’s eyes widening as she peered past me, and my utter horror when I turned and found Isabelle. She’d heard everything.

Fuck, I was such an idiot.

It was absolutely true. There was nothing holding her back from leaving this time, just like the last time. Once she found out, she wouldn’t stick around to listen to my pathetic apologies. She’d be gone in a second, and I wouldn’t have the strength to chase after anymore, because I would’ve been spent and tired from spending all of my energy on crying to myself and mumbling what a fuck-up I was, mumbling the truth.

I had already added a cup of milk and was now whipping the thick batter around the bowl mercilessly with the whisk. Stupid, I whipped the batter ever harder.

Worthless, a few drops spilled out of the bowl.

Fucking idiot, I threw the whisk down onto the ground, where it clattered noisily against the white tiles. The little drops of pancake mix that were still on it flew onto the tiles but I didn’t give a crap. I shoved the bowl aside and buried my face into my hands, resting my elbows onto the counter and hating myself.

I didn’t deserve her. I didn’t. She could have so much better; it was only a matter of time before she realised that. She was going to walk away one day, and I knew that it would be soon. She was an angel, my angel, but angels don’t stay by your side when you’re dead. There’s no point in that. Why would you be protecting a corpse? It’s a lost cause.

I’m dead. I’m a lost cause. She would realise that sooner or later.

“Harry?” a timid voice sounded from the doorway of the kitchen. I looked up, hoping for Isabelle, but I found Eleanor instead. I tried for a smile, but it came out pained.

“Oh, hey,” I rasped. Eleanor shuffled into the kitchen, wearing an oversized t-shirt and shorts. She walked up to the opposite side of the counter and leaned against it. Her brown eyes widened slightly as she studied me, and she pushed some hair from my face, “Are you alright?”

I barked out a quiet laugh, running my hands through my hair anxiously, “No, El, not really.”

She pursed her lips, “I’m here if you want to talk about it.”

I shook my head and sighed, “Well, I don’t really, but thanks.” I wasn’t being fair to Eleanor, but I couldn’t spill all of my guts to her. She and Isabelle were pretty good friends now, and I didn’t feel like being told on.

She nodded empathetically, “It’s about Isabelle, isn’t it?”

How the fuck did could always know these things?

“Yeah,” I admitted, “We’re having some problems right now,” I added, not really meaning it at all, but just wanting this conversation to be over, “But I don’t really want to talk about it. Sorry.”

She shook her head, shooting me a small smile, “It’s okay. I hope you guys work everything out. Good night.” With that, she turned on her heel and shuffled out of the kitchen. I could hear her light footsteps patter back up the steps.

El was so innocent and sweet. She was an ‘Isabelle’. Fuck, here I go again.

I turned away from the entrance to the kitchen, slamming my hands down onto the counter. Fucking hell, I hated the effect she had on me. She made me hate myself, which never happened before. I banged my head against the cupboard and opened the fridge door, resting my hand inside. I was crazy, out of control. I was just about to slam the door onto my hand when I felt two small hands grip my bare shoulders and whip me around. Surprised, I let go of the fridge.

Isabelle was on me in a second, backing me up against the counter, and her face inches from mine. She looked furious. “What do you think you’re doing?” she screeched. I was surprised that there were no sounds of footsteps coming back down the steps, so I could only assume that Eleanor had told Louis that we had things to work out.

“What does it look like?” I asked; my tone just as harsh. God, I really hoped that they couldn’t hear us that well. She clamped her jaw shut and just shook her head, a strand of hair falling over her forehead. I reached out to push it away, but she just stepped back.

“Don’t,” she said quietly, her eyes completely hard, “I can’t believe you.”

“What?” I asked and she barked out a dry laugh.

“Seriously Harry?” she asked, incredulous, “There you go again with the self-loathing. The whole ‘I don’t deserve you’ shit. I’m not stupid you know. I know you! How many times must I fucking tell you—?” She was back up in my face in an instant, peppering kisses along my bare shoulder. I just stood there, dumbstruck, not knowing what to make of this. One minute, she was seething, and the next, she was kissing me. She was so fucking hard to figure out.
“—that you’re amazing?” Isabelle finished off her sentence, pressing a long kiss to one of the sparrow tattoos on my chest.

I pushed her away from me and tugged on my ringlets, “I’m not Belle! I’m not! Fuck, you’re so blind!”

She looked shocked as I pushed her away and ran back upstairs. “Harry!” she yelled, as I heard her begin to follow. I ran along the hallway and slammed the door, feeling bad for Louis and El, who were no doubt awake and trying to tune everything out. A moment later, the bedroom door opened and slammed shut again, and I was being pressed up against the wall by Isabelle. I couldn’t help but to smirk. This seemed to be the opposite of what was supposed to happen.

Isabelle was angry; any idiot could’ve seen that. She opened her mouth, and for a moment, I thought she was going to yell at me, but she kissed me instead. Hard.

“You’re—such—a fucking—nuisance,” she growled between kisses. I hoisted her up, and she complied only too easily, wrapping her arms and legs around me. Without even knowing it, I carried her to the bed, and dropped her down on it, quickly climbing on top of her and keeping myself steady, using my forearms. We kissed long and hard.

“I hate you,” she gasped as I moved my mouth from her lips down to her neck, sucking harshly on every bit of skin I could reach, “I hate you so much Harry. I hate that I love you. I hate that you can’t see it, I hate it, and I hate you.”

I chuckled against her skin before ripping her tank top off of her body. She sucked in a long but audible gasp of air as I trailed the tip of my tongue all along her collarbones. Her eyes closed but snapped back open as I licked the valley of her breasts. I thrust my pelvis down into hers and she moaned gently. Her moan turned me on so much.

“Let me make you feel good,” I pleaded, moving back up and staring at her desperately, “Not—not sex, just…please Belle, anything.”

Her eyes widened, and I suddenly realised that I’d put pressure on her, the one thing that I’d promised I’d never do. “Shit,” I whispered, and then tried to lessen the damage, “I’m so sorry baby. I didn’t mean that. I’m so, so sorry.”

She pressed her hand to my mouth, cutting me off before I could apologize some more. “I want to,” she told me solemnly, and I didn’t bother asking if she was sure, because her eyes told me everything. I nodded shakily, wanting to make this the best possible experience for her.

“Okay,” I breathed, still marvelling at how we could go from fighting to this, “Okay,” I repeated and then I pecked her lips once, “Tell me to stop if you want me to. I love you.”

Notes

Okay, guys, so I have massive assignments to do, so no updates over the weekend, sorry :(

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Yeah, this note is really, short, nothing like my others, ha-ha.

That awkward moment when you don't know what to put in 'That awkward moment'...like right now ;)

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