‘Prodigious birth of love it is to me’

Laila’s POV

Home was deserted when we quietly opened the door, just as mum said it would be. Georgiana ran into her bedroom and Bernie and me got into mine. We were just that close to get caught. We quickly changed into our sleeping gowns and jumped beneath the duvet.

“I don’t want to shower anymore, Laila–––Bernie said to me. How can I explain it? I felt so comfortable. He’s so funny. It was simply amazing.”

“Did you reach an orgasm?” I asked without even realising it. Maybe because in the back of my mind I never thought that could happen in a first time.

“Of course I did–––she said tapping my shoulder. My, he is delightful… But what happened with you?–––she suddenly changed the subject. I can’t imagine Harry and you don’t have chemistry in bed.”

“No, we have, we have plenty of chemistry,” I explained trying to sound convincing. Chemistry was not our problem. Our problem was timing, as always. “I just wanted to be near him so badly. Not making love with him was not a calculated matter, Bernie,” I said when she glanced at me suspiciously. “I promise. We kissed and we spoke, and finally we fell asleep.”

“You do a lot of talking,” she ironised.

“I love to speak with him…”

“But you love to kiss him too and I’m sure he turned you on as never before,” she said between laughs. She was so right. As never before.

“Oh, you know, Bernie. I told you everything. I liked sex before. I’m not a prude or that inexperienced–––I tried to explain, I used to orgasm regularly when I was with Bobby, but, I admit it, it was quite dull, mechanical… Do you know what I mean?”

“You left him because of that…” She said.

“No, I did not,” I defended myself, although, she was quite right all over again.

“You go lie to somebody else, missy…”

“Fine. He bored me in so many levels. But with Harry I felt something absolutely new. When I was there between his arms I felt able to let me go…” I explained and all the sensations came to take me over. “I felt so desired. And how he touched me; he was so gentle but made me feel so aroused. I was not strictly genital. It was something else, sensual, emotional… Oh, I can’t even explain it to myself,” I said covering my eyes.

“It’s quite simple: You are mad about him.”

“I am–––I slowly said looking back a Bernie and we both laughed. I don’t want to overthink it. And I don’t want to anticipate anything, but I can’t stop thinking about him. I want him so much. I wish I was still in that bed with him. It is mind-blowing.”

“I wish I was still with Zayn as well. I can’t wait to see him again. You get to see Harry tomorrow morning, you lucky bastard.”

–.–.–

As we finished our late lunch we remained sitting at the table drinking a small coffee. We are convinced we’re mediterraneans. Daddy was reading his paper and Georgiana and Bernie were showing her manicures to mum. I was still thinking about Harry. It’s so strange knowing even your father had sex this morning and you don’t. But it was the truth. Not making love with Harry was not calculated. It wasn’t. Something in the way we were together felt so right I forgot everything about not rushing in. As I seemed not able to shake the feelings from his kiss and his hands away from my mind I kept it quiet, trying to avoid everyone’s attention.

“What time did you come home last night, girls?” Daddy asked while reading with his glasses in the tip of his nose.

“Around two in the morning…” Georgiana answered firmly. She’s such a good liar. It’s surely her therapist’s training.

“You could have stayed a bit longer…–––he pointed out. Weren’t you having fun?”

“Yes, but we have plenty of reading to do today,” she said mischievously.

“My responsible girls…” He leant down to kiss her forehead. Mum and Bernie were laughing discreetly, and I finally giggled too, allowing my thoughts to leave.

“And whose party was it, anyway?” He placed his newspaper down. Suddenly I didn’t quite like the direction the conversation was taking. “Some special friend?”

“A classmate of ours,” Bernie said with her hand touching her mouth.

“And has this classmate a name?” Daddy asked directly to me.

“Harry,” I mumbled.

“And his surname is…?” He carried on.

“Styles,” I said, shyly, and turning away.

“I don’t remember you mentioning him before…” Oh, he has that memory.

“He’s new. He got transferred from Manchester,” Bernie declared in my rescue.

“Northwestern, I see. Is he a nice person?” He asked to Bernie.

“He is. And intelligent and a perfect gentleman,” she answered him, glimpsing at me.

“And he’s sort of dating your daughter…” Georgiana pointed out at me.

“Georgiana!” I exclaimed. I wasn’t quite ready to speak about him with my parents while I was having all those sensual revivals.

“What?” She said giggling.

“Well, that sounds fine, Laila. Why don’t you bring him home any of these days? Your mother and I would be delighted to meet him.” And that was exactly what I wanted to prevent.

“I don’t know, dad,” I muttered looking away.

“We met your previous boyfriends. Bobby and that other lad…” Daddy said.

“Steven,” mum spoke.

“Steven. I liked Steven,” he said glancing at her.

“He was an asshole–––Georgiana claimed. You have a poor taste in men.” Bernie and her bursted into laughs.

“Well, not my speciality, I admit it.”

Why were we having that particular conversation? It was definitely too soon. Oh, yes; courtesy of Georgiana Coleman, as always. But maybe she was right exposing the entire situation, because it soon became quite normalised. The necessity of hiding or sneaking around was over and I could simply be with Harry. My sister is an evil genius.

–.–.–

Harry’s POV

When I arrived home the street was almost deserted and I saw Louis’ car parked downstairs, along the street. As I got into the flat I found Gemma sitting on the sofa, reading some book. I kissed her cheek and looked around. Then I heard the water of the shower running.

“What is Louis doing here?” I asked her leaving my keys on the table.

“He crashed at your room last night. He was too tired to drive home,” she explained.

“Ah, fine…” I said. When I was turning away to get into my bedroom, she spoke to me.

“I love Laila.”

“I think I love her too…” I mumbled, glimpsing at her. My declaration was startling, even to myself. But the entire night had been too intense and I needed to say something. I knew I could speak to Gemma, no matter how insane I might sound.

“I promise I won’t make any joke about it. Please, carry on,” she muttered. But then we heard the bathroom door opening and Louis walked into the lounge. His hair was wet.

“Mate, you are home already–––he said fixing them a bit. I thought you’d be with Laila still…”

“Laila left early–––I explained quite annoyed, feeling frustrated all over again. Something about her father waking up before than expected…”

“OK, I see–––he chuckled, noticing my bad mood. Well, do you want to talk about it?” He said glimpsing at Gemma.

“I’ll talk to you later, sister,” I said to her, kissing the top of her head.

“I know you prefer him–––she joked. But, fine. I’ll be in my room…” She jumped off the sofa and exited the lounge along with her book, leaving Louis and me alone.

We went to the kitchen and I made me a sandwich. I was starving. Louis told he and Gemma had taken a late breakfast soon before.

“Well, mate, as I admitted earlier–––he said placing his hand on my shoulder, we are backing off, Liam and I. Laila is your match. You found her and she’s mad about you.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I was a bit uncomfortable.”

“Well, it is over now. She’s yours,” he solemnly declared. Of course she was mine. I knew it all the time but they were too stubborn to let it go right away. “And Liam got along quite well with Marianne. She seems a nice girl…”

“And you, mate? What about you?” I asked.

“Don’t worry about me–––he laughed. I’m not looking for a relationship or something special right now. I’m living in the moment. But, well, tell me everything. Did you…?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Do you really think I’m going to tell you something that intimate?” I asked rhetorically.

“You sort of did it until the last one before Laila…–––he claimed, quite puzzled. Oh, I get it, lover boy…” He poke my dimple when I smiled.

“We kissed. We just kissed–––I said. I don’t want to scare her away… I thought perhaps something else could have happen, but, well, she had to leave,” I explained, dejected. She was so hot moving against me but she had to go…

“Oh, well. You’ll see her soon.”

“Yeah,” I mumbled, glancing down.

“I’m sorry, Harry, but I have to ask–––Louis said changing the tone of his voice. What about that teacher of yours? Are you over her?” He sounded quite serious.

“Why in the world did I tell you about her?–––I exclaimed throwing my head back. I’m not over her because there’s nothing there. She means nothing. She is just as hot as any other woman I could meet tomorrow. But I want Laila. I want her. There’s something more with her,” I explained myself.

“Well, I know, but I had to ask–––he said. You know you can’t screw Laila up. Please, Harry, not her,” he almost begged.

“You are speaking just like Gemma!–––I snapped. I won’t ruin things with Laila. I want her. She might be the one…” Louis’ expression lightened up as he heard me.

“Well, you, telling those things…–––he giggled. It’s unheard of. OK, mate. I have to run. Don’t forget about the band’s rehearsal tomorrow afternoon.”

“I’ll be there,” I said.

–.–.–

I finished my sandwich and came into my room. It’s odd to see my bed is made. Louis is usually so untidy. Oh, well. Maybe Gemma did it while he was taking the shower. I put on some record, laid down on my bed and immersed myself in the memories of Laila. How have we got to this point? That first morning when we met seems so far away, like another life, or someone else’s life. I authentically feel like those lyrics I spoke to her. I never felt it before but I’ve read so much about it. I have all the signs.

“Are you here?” Gemma says, outing me from my meditations.

“Do you want to talk still?” I straighten up a bit.

“And Louis?” She asks.

“He left a while ago.”

“He did?” She seems puzzled.

“Yeah, half an hour ago, why?” I ask her, sitting on my bed.

“No, nothing. I thought you’d come to my room to talk when he’d leave–––she explains. If you don’t want to speak anymore…” She says almost turning away.

“Yes, I want to talk–––I claim. I didn’t realise you were waiting for me. I’m sorry. Come, sit down,” I say tapping by my side.

“I wanted to tell you… Well. I wanted to explain you… But perhaps I have to let you talk first,” she stammers. She seems nervous.

“No, please, go ahead.” I hug her, resting my forehead on her temple. “You just said you loved Laila. I’m so glad about it.”

“Harry, please, don’t screw this up…” She says leaning back, pointing at me with her index finger.

“You too?–––I snap. Have you been speaking with Louis about us?”

“With Louis? No! Imagine!” She flicks her hand at me. Her expression softens. “I don’t need to tell you how Laila is–––she says returning to the conversation. But, besides that, I felt something rare, I don’t know, something like ‘friendship at first sight.’ I feel I can trust her, I don’t know, it’s strange…”

“It’s funny you say that because that’s sort of how I feel about her–––I say shivering and Gemma notices it. I feel I can tell her everything and, mostly, I want to tell her everything; every laugh, every wound, every thought that comes to my mind, I want to share it with her. And I want to know everything about her as well, I want to see pictures of her when she was a little girl.”

“Oh, Harry! You are falling for her. I’m so happy. She’s made for you, I can tell–––she says resting her head on my cheek. Please, don’t screw this up.”

“Come on, Gemma, stop torturing me with your suspicions–––I blurt. I told you. I want her. I want only her.”

“Fine. That was the last time–––she claims. Hold on to her, Harry. To love someone and to be loved in return is the greatest thing you can have in this life.” There’s emotion in her voice. “Better than words, better than books, better than music, better than art, better than random sex, for sure.” She smiles.

“Is there something I ignore about your sentimental status?–––I ask her. Because you speak as if you were in love yourself.”

“Oh, no. What are you saying?–––she says slapping my arm playfully. There’s no one. I would have told you, especially if I was in love… There’s no one.” I’m sure she would, but you never know.

–.–.–

Gemma left a while ago and I’m laying in my bed trying to read. But there’s one thing I’m not able to push away from my mind. Laila wanted me to take her jeans off. What did she want to do? Did she want to make love with me? I need to get away from people when I’m with her. Interruptions are really trying my patience. I think it is time to start planning that European cultural trip we talked about.

–.–.–

Notes

Gemma and Louis, really? Expect more in the next chapters.

I had some sort of an epiphany two days ago and I've started to write, although it's not yet published, a new 1D/Fan Fiction. It'd cross path with this one at some point in a most surreal way. I think it's a whole new concept.

Here it is finally! My new Fan Fiction: Dreaming Of You. Check it out!

Thank you so much for reading!

xo.