Best Quotes

And looking down at Liam, he gives him a shy little smile that only serves as part of the show. Because he’s shameless, really. He loves the attention. Moaning and pulling his hand away when Liam goes down on him again.

He feels like he’s missed Liam. Or like he’ll miss him. Both at once, maybe more and all over again. Harry’s never wanted him this bad. Not to say he’s been wanting him less all the times before. But just that he’s needing him in such a different way right now. Like he’s far or going away goodbye. It’s that feeling. It’s horrible because it makes no sense.

Omg how do you have the patience??? and when do you find the timee??! Sorry, i know this is way late and you might have left? but this blog is true dedication i love it

Things only stand out as much as everything around it doesn’t. Stars only shine bright on the darkest nights. They might as well not exist during the day. Maybe Harry has to make his sun set to know what it’s like to dream again.

And he comes back, he promises. Harry can’t understand why people stopped believing him. When they got so impatient. When they got to being fine with never seeing him again.

And Liam knows Harry can hear what he’s thinking—that his thoughts are somehow making their way through thick curls and soft skin and finding a home in Harry’s mind. So he thinks, with everything he can muster; This is all I want. This is all I have ever wanted.

Haz what you are doesn’t make you a monster,” Liam continues, kissing the top of Harry’s head. “You fight it every day, I can see that. You have this palpable desire to do good that I love. And, just…” Liam bites his lip, wanting to say so much more but stopping himself. Harry pulls away just a bit, looks at Liam with furrowed-brow concentration. “What if I lose? The fight?” Liam is taken off guard by that, his mind stuttering. But Harry is serious, and Liam’s heart is beating faster and faster. “I’ll be there with you.” He says, squeezing Harry’s side until a dimpled grin wrestles its way onto pink lips. “Just be honest with me Harry, and we can get through anything.

Liam can’t really explain it, but seeing Harry like this—graceful and seductive and eager to please, lips bruised and wet—it makes every hair on his body stand on end, electrified with a sense that he’s witnessing something wild. A creature in its natural state, raw and enchanting, eyes so dark with need it’s mesmerizing. Teeth gleaming white, sharp enough to draw blood. Every instinct in Liam’s body tells him he should be terrified, but he only wants to get closer.

You don’t let others in, not really. I’m not the only person who’s tried to love you, you have to know that. If you won’t let other people love you, if you won’t love them fully in return, then what’s the point? He’s won, hasn’t he? If you just give up on loving?

They duck into a tattoo parlour that’s halfway between the city centre and Harry’s mum’s and Zayn gets two black lines carefully inked onto his left ring finger. He smiles up at Harry while it’s being done. “It’ll last forever,” he says. “Just like us.”

"Just, like, I appreciate you coming. But if it’s too hard for you. You don’t have to stay.” Niall clears his throat. “What makes you think it’s hard for me?” “You smile when everyone’s looking,” Harry answers. “Not so much when they look away.” “You saw,” Niall points out, unable to stop himself from chewing at his cuticle. “I’m not everyone to you,” Harry points out, his voice soft, his eyes clear as glass and totally unreadable

Harry touches Zayn as if he’s wanted to for far longer than just tonight, a reverence and a curiosity in his fingertips. Zayn touches Harry like he wants to break him a bit, pulling on his hair and biting his lips, pressing him further and further into the mattress with each roll of his hips. He can’t stop.

Harry is good, is the thing. Really good. Maybe if Zayn wasn’t bored by people putting on an act, maybe if he was the kind of person impressed by bright lights and pretty views, he would have been dancing right into Harry’s palm three hours ago. Instead, he’s struck by an itch in his fingers – an itch to mess things up and take them apart just to see how they work. He wants to poke holes in Harry’s pristine exterior, pull off the mask he’s put on as he spoon feeds lines to Zayn.