I sat quietly beside Harry at the island. I had finished my meal because I had stayed mostly quiet while the boys all goofed around. Harry's eyes had yet to meet mine since we sat down but I knew that he was highly aware of me. His hand rested on my thigh gently, and when I shifted, he did. I laid my hand over his and gripped his fingers lightly. He smiled and took my hand in return but kept his focus on his friends. I leaned my head against my fist as I watched him. He was a beautiful person, not just in his looks. Visually, he was bewildering. Being so taken with him, I could argue that he was the reason that art was created. I smirked at the thought. He was beautiful inside as well. He carried a huge heart inside that sexy, toned chest. Harry was full of love. He loved everyone and everything. A man like him loved me. My breath caught in my chest as I said it to myself over and over. He loves me.
Harry laughed which caused my full smile. One of the boys must've said something ridiculous but I couldn't be sure. The way he smiled warmed my heart. His dimples and the light in his eyes made him seem so young but the deep reverb of his voice proved that he was a man. I loved his duality. Young and carefree but wise and completely self-aware. It made speaking to him interesting and captivating. I released his hand slowly. He frowned slightly. But as I placed my hand on the back of his head to stroke his hair, the frown faded away.
I wound his curls around my fingers slowly and carefully. I bit my bottom lip as my mind drifted to the way his hair felt between my fingers when we were in bed. He thought it was hilarious that no matter the mood of the night, my hands would end up in his untamed mane as we made love. I lifted my eyebrow at myself. The hell was I saying? Made love. That's interesting. Normally, my word was fuck. But whenever I thought about Harry, I couldn't bring myself to use the word. I don't think I'd even said it to him. When I wanted him, I'd say make love. Being with Harry was a more expressive, profound experience. My hand slid out of his hair and down his back. What was I thinking? Was that what I felt with him? Was this love? This need to be close and connected? The desire to see a smile on his face every day? To have his voice be what I heard when I woke and before I went to sleep? It was. I was certain of it. I loved the man sitting next to me. For a million reasons that no one could ever understand.
How was I supposed to say it? Should I wait till the next time he says it to me? No. No. That would just make him think that I was saying it as a reflex. But he'd been saying it for days and I never said it back. I huffed quietly at myself. He'd think I was saying it make him feel better before we left this holiday. Should I wait until we were snuggled in our bed, tired and satisfied? No. He'd think it was a rush of hormones he'd given me. Never said it after making love before though. I grunted at myself. No. After sex was not the time. As I thought more about it I felt like saying it at all was not a good idea. It would be selfish.
"Noli, baby, are you alright?" Harry gazed upon my face with concerned eyes. Those loving, green eyes that saw me the way I really was.
My hand fell from under my cheek, "I am so in love with you." It felt like the words just fell out of my mouth. Everyone in the room was stunned but Harry's eyes shone as brightly as I'd ever seen them. He leaned closer to me and placed his lips over mine softly.