27 Tattoos

You stutter out your words. What had you just said? You told him you loved him. You told Harry that you were in love with him. You weren’t even thinking, that’s the thing. It just came naturally, like it felt right. Were you in love with him? You couldn’t be, it would end up like your parents. He would cheat on you just like your father did to your mother. He loved you; he was in love with you. Why would he do that to you if he was in love with you? You loved the way that Harry always smelt like his aftershave mixed with a hint of Tabaco, the way his lip ring would get caught in his teeth. You loved the way that he treated you different to everyone else; he would treat you with care rather than not giving a shit about you, acting up in front of his friends. You loved that he blew away your expectations of him; he was completely different from what you imagined. You loved the fact that the piercings on his face moved around when he laughed, or the way his eyebrows furrowed when he was confused or thinking about something. You loved his cheeky side, the dangerous side. It scared you and intrigued you at the same time. You loved the mystery of it. You loved how hard he was trying to knock your walls down, to let himself in. You loved him. You honestly did. You just had a hard time trusting people, especially people you cared for. Looking up, you see Harry’s face, his eyes wide and his lips parted, a look of shock spread across his features.

“You l-love me?” He whispers, his eyes slightly glossy from tears. He was crying? He really did care about you.

You nod your head, looking down at your shoes, now finding them the most interesting things in the world. Suddenly you feel arms wrap around your waist, your body being pulled into his, his lean body engulfing your shorted one, his head buried into your neck. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer.

“Thank you.” He murmurs into your neck.

“Why are you thanking me?” You ask, pulling back to look at him.

“For that second chance. For letting me prove myself worthy of you. For not letting what others say about me define what you think. Thank you.” He says, his curly hair blowing to the side.

“Do you realise how sappy you sound?” You joke and he looks at you with his eyebrows raised.

“I honestly don’t care because you just admitted that you loved me, so I’m pretty good right now.” He winks.

“Yeah, I changed my mind.” You laugh, pulling out of his grip, only for him to pull you back.

“Oh really?” He mutters, his face inches from yours, his breath, hot on your lips. That’s when you do the craziest thing, something completely out of character; you grab his cheeks and smash his lips onto yours. At first he didn’t respond, but soon enough his lips were moving in sync with yours, his tongue swiping your bottom lip for entrance and you gladly accepted. Your tongues swirled around in each other’s mouths, massaging one another and battling for dominance. Suddenly you feel Harry’s hands on your bum; he lifts you up, you immediately wrapping your legs around his waist, your arms secured tightly around his neck. He starts to walk whilst his lips are still attached to yours; you then feel your body being pressed against a door. Harry pushes you against the car door, his hands roaming over your body, his lips traveling from your lips to your jawline, kissing down your neck towards your collar bones. He nipped at the skin as he went down, kissing every inch of exposed flesh.

“I love you so much.” He murmurs against the skin of your neck, making your breath hitch in your throat.

“I love you too.” You whisper and he leaves your neck, looking you in the eyes and kissing you once more on the lips before opening the car door and placing you in the passenger side, strapping you in. He gets in the car, straps himself in and drives away from the warehouse, where people are probably still wondering what the fuck just happened.

The car ride was silent, not awkward just comfortable. Harry hand found its way to yours, encasing your dainty hand in his much larger one, bringing it up to his lips and planting a kiss to it before resting it on his lap. When you reached your house, he gave you one last kiss goodnight and helped you climb back up to your window; it wasn’t the most graceful of gestures. When you were safely in your room he waved and climbed into his car, speeding off. You couldn’t help think of Harry, he was always on your mind. Now as you lay in bed in your pyjamas, he was all you could think about, not being able to find one flaw in his appearance or personality. You go to sleep dreaming about him, which was not an irregular occurrence as of late.