When He Holds Your Hand

Rose's eyes were so wide they were almost completely full circles. She looked from me to Harry then back to me again, mouth moving to speak but without making a single sound. To my relief it was Harry that made the first move because fear had glued me to the spot. He reached out and pulled Rose into a gentle hug. "It's so nice to finally meet you! I've heard so much about you from Layla."
The mention of my name brought me back into the reality of the situation. I locked eyes with Harry who was now chatting away with a stunned Rose.
"Are you ok?" I asked her, my voice shaking.
"You've blown my mind, if I'm honest." She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples, "uh...I think I better go home and get my head around this."
"Don't you want to stay and finish your coffee?"
"Layla, I feel like I've just drunk 20 espressos." I nodded slowly, a part of me felt like if she left I'd never see her again. "I'll message you later and maybe we can talk tonight." Rose reached out and touched my arm, "I just need to think."
We said an awkward goodbye then she left leaving Harry and I alone, our bubble well and truly burst.
"That was horrible," my voice cracked and I bit my lip to hold back the tears. Harry enveloped me in his arms, placing reassuring kisses at the top of my head.
"She'll be fine. I just think she was shocked and a little hurt but once you talk to her she'll understand." He cupped my face and made me look at him. "It will all be ok. She won't say a word to Will, that much we do know, and she'll forgive you because she loves you."
"I guess you're right."
"I'm absolutely right." Kissing the tip of my nose his smile turned into a smirk and I knew what his next suggestion would be, "now, what I was going to say when I first came down was that you need to come back to bed."
His kiss was filled with intentions, slow but hard, hands wandering to the tie on my dressing gown and pulling it loose.
"Don't you have to leave soon?" I groaned feeling his fingers stroke my inner thigh.
"I have a few hours yet." Hot breath on my jaw bone and the cold air on my skin and my robe was fully removed. "Besides, there's really nowhere else I'd rather be."
Back in bed we devoured eachother, knowing full well that this genuinely was the last time we would be able to be together for a ridiculously long time.
I wanted to take in every detail of how he tasted, the feel of his skin, the small whimpers he made into my mouth as I rode him painfully slow.
"Please, baby," he'd whisper hoarsely, hands gripped tightly in my hair holding my face close to his, "don't tease."
Harry's focus was so often on making me lose control that there weren't many chances for me to see him do the same, but the splendid view of him on his back beneath me gave me such a thrill that I struggled not to ride him hard and fast like he was pleading with me to do. His cheeks flushed red and beads of sweat began to appear on his skin as he fought back the urge to dominate me.
"When you're gone," my voice barely a whisper I locked eyes with his; they were dark with lust and heavy with need, "this is how I'm going to picture you, under me and begging for me to let you cum."
His head rolled and he whimpered once more, louder this time, so I sped up my pace long enough to give him hope that he was going to get his own way.
When finally he came, his fingers gripped tightly on my ankles, his arms rigid and straight by his side, he cried out my name and swore loudly until his body became limp and he begged me to stop because he couldn't take anymore.
I slid off his hips and collapsed onto the bed next to him, and he turned to look at me with a dopamine filled smile.
"I meant what I said last night, you know?"
"I know you did." I reached out a hand stroked his arm, which was damp with sweat.
I was reminded about what I'd woken up to worry about, the reason I'd gone downstairs at a ridiculously early time of the morning.
We were in a post coital glow, Harry asking me about the tattoo I'd gotten on my holiday with Rose.
"Why an anchor?" he laughed, running his fingers over it. "I mean, I like it, but unless there's something you need to tell me, you don't look like a pirate or sailor."
"I can't give you a fancy answer, I'm afraid, I was drunk and I liked it."
"I might get one," he said suddenly, stretching the arm he was tracing my skin with to see if it would having a dirty great big anchor on it. "It'll match my ship."
"Flowers too?" I teased, trying to quell the paranoia that if he did get one that Will would put two and two together.
"Maybe."
We chatted for a little longer until I got up to go to the bathroom. I'd made it to the door when Harry suddenly spoke.
"I love you."
I flinched at his words but pretended like I hadn't heard and carried on out of the room. When I came back Harry didn't mention it and neither did I.
But now, here he was mentioning it again and there was no way I could avoid giving him some sort of reply.
"I'm not expecting you to tell me you love me back."
There was a harshness to his tone that reminded me that as grounded as Harry was, he was still used to getting his own way. He wanted me to say it, to throw my arms around him and tell him that I loved him too, that I wanted to find a way to be together, but I couldn't.
I wouldn't.

Notes