It was totally enjoyable, but I knew it couldn’t really last. I wasn’t sure how much sanity there could be in a relationship where two people had to be locked indoors with each other the whole time, not even telling the people closest to them. I wasn’t sure how long the two of us could last like that. But for the time being, it was quite nice blocking out the world. Nothing else mattered. I stood in the kitchen wearing one of Harry t-shirts, which just about covered me enough to have a little dignity as I happily moved about to the sounds of the Red Hot Chilli Peppers. I was cooking us something to eat, since the amount of take-away food we had eaten over the past 9 days was actually slightly ridiculous. I couldn’t help but wonder how Harry’s body had remained so toned and beautiful after all the shit we had eaten, because I could see the difference in my stomach. It was very noticeable. Tell Me Baby played as I happily moved about the kitchen, preparing a relatively healthy pasta dish, frying some onions as I danced to myself. I hadn’t noticed Harry stood in the doorway of the hall watching me, smiling to the back of my head as I lost myself in my happy moves. “Are you cooking for me?” He asked, fresh out of the shower. I turned around, smiling at the damp boy with a towel clung to his hips. He pushed his damp hair back, revealing his face to me entirely. Fuck, he’s beautiful. I danced up to him, moving my hips and cocking my eyebrows playfully, causing a beautiful laugh to fall from his lips. “You never cook for me, so I have to cook for you.” I said. “Heyyyy.” He protested. “I would cook for you!” “Yeah? Then why haven’t you?” I smiled, tracing his abs with my fingertips. “Because... Shut up!” He crinkled his nose with a smile. I quickly moved my hand down and tugged the towel away from him, forcing him to let out an exceptionally feminine scream, rushing to grab it back off me and cover himself. I turned myself back around, laughing at him, making my way towards the onions I had left frying, turning them off before I burnt them. But Harry was quickly back with me, spinning me round and pulling my body to his. “That was rude.” He said before biting his lip. I pulled at the towel again, quickly throwing it behind him before he had the chance to grab it back off me. I tried to hold in my laughter as I looked up to him with guilty eyes, my throat trying to force a giggle but I held it in, gaging the way he looked down to me. “Right, that’s it.” He spoke. I squealed as he picked me up and slung me over his shoulder. I was still amazed by his strength even though I had seen it so many times in so many different scenarios, but he literally had no struggle as he lifted me and began to move. I giggled and screamed as carried me, kicking my legs dramatically. I reached down as far as I could and began slapping my hand against his bare arse cheeks, my stomach hurting I was laughing so much. “You’re in trouble now, Black!” He bellowed. I couldn’t physically stop my laughter as he carried me up the stairs, my giggles only increasing when he moved his free hand and slapped my bum in return, leaving quite a harsh sting to the sensitive skin, but I enjoyed it. I reached down again and gripped both his cheeks with my hands, giggling the skin. As we reached the top of the stairs, his strength showed once more as he swung me round, moving me off his shoulder, and I instinctively wrapped my legs around him, my arms draped over his shoulders. His dark eyes caused my throat to catch, making me look to him with utter lust lining my needs. His face was low as he looked to me, he knew exactly how to tease me, he knew how to work me up so I was desperate for him. It was safe to say I was no longer laughing. “You’ve just been a very naughty girl. Naughty girls need punishing.” He grunted. I inhaled deeply, hot and bothered and very aware of my t-shirt and knickers, the only two items keeping me from being naked with him. He started to move again, carrying me into his bedroom, his eyes not leaving mine. I was expecting him to throw me to the bed right away, but I was completely caught off-guard as he took hold of my knickers, wrapping his fists around the material against my hip and pulling it with force. They ripped from my skin, the elastic and lace tearing, my body trembling as I took in what he had just done, and how aroused I was thanks to it. “Fuck.” I gasped rather breathlessly. “Mind your language, Honey. You’re in enough trouble as it is.” He then took the frayed material to his mouth, gripping his teeth to it and then pulling down, waiting until is snapped away from his mouth as I watched him, totally in awe. I was obsessed with him and everything he did. I wondered how anyone could become so incredibly sexy, how it just flowed so naturally through him. It was never forced, he just captured the meaning of sex and desire. I ached for him, always. His touch was fire, his breath was a deserts wind, his eyes were a dark summers evening. He was a specimen that was a rarity in life, and I had somehow got lucky enough to be able to call him my own. He moved to the bed, dropping down on top of me as he attacked my neck with his lips, sucking on my skin, bound to be making his mark. I had never enjoyed love-bites, but Harry was different. I wanted to be marked by him, I wanted to feel that little bit of pain from his touch, see that he had been there and that I had been his. He withdrew from me, kneeling up on the bed and showing me his hard member, his toned body looking perfect and tanned. “Take your top off.” He spoke. I quickly removed the requested item from my body, and then lead back down, watching Harry move his hand and grip around himself. He began to masturbate ahead of me, biting his lip as his wrist moved with speed. I tried to travel my hand down to myself, wanting to masturbate with him, but I was stopped. He gripped onto my wrist, watching me with serious eyes, dark and low. “Touch yourself and you’ll get nothing from me.” He seethed. It took all my might not to do it, especially when he spoke to me like that, all I wanted to do was touch myself, pleasure myself to him pleasuring himself. He moved his hand back and continued the action, looking me in the eye the whole time. Soon he began grunting his pleasure, moaning into the room, rolling his shoulders, really getting into his work. I just watched him, my eyes flicking from his face to his dick as I attempted not to squirm on the bed, so turned on and so fucking frustrated. Harry then closed his eyes, rolling his head back before he spoke. “I’m thinking of fucking you.” He groaned. “I’m thinking of bending you over and pulling your hair, gripping onto your skin until it burns. I’m thinking of the way you moan my name, and how much I want to feel your cum on my lips again.” “Fuck you!” I moaned. He knew how much he was turning me on, and it reached the point where it was absolutely killing me that he wasn’t touching me, it was killing me that I couldn’t touch myself because I needed to. I felt as though I was close to my edge; even without his touches I was close, but I knew I needed some form of contact or I wouldn’t finish. It was like dangling at the edge of a cliff, that was how my entire body felt. He continued to work himself, giving me absolutely nothing as I whimpered beneath him, my back arching as he moaned more and more, clearly nearing his end. “Lift your hips!” He demanded. I did as I was told, and without a second of hesitation, Harry thrust into me, and we both cursed and came in time with one another. That was all it took. One thrust, one bit of contact, and I was done. I almost felt as though I could cry, that sort of overwhelming feeling that washed my body. Harry fell on top of me, his chest crashing to mine in a hot daze as we rode it out together. I moved my hand to his hair, running it through the wet curls calmly. Harry’s face was in the sheets beside mine, flustered and hot. He moved his hand, not even looking at me as his thumb found my cheek, brushing over my skin. I nudged my cheek even closer to his touch, and soon enough he brought his face back round to me, kissing soft touches against my lips. He was so gentle, so soft and caring, I loved how things could change so quickly between us, the feeling of the atmosphere completely different than it had been only moments before. “Do I tell you I love you too much?” He spoke quietly. “I don’t think so.” I smiled. “I just feel this need to tell you. All the time. I think it’s ‘cause… when I first told you, it was so... awful. It was bitter. Now it’s different. And I just want to say it all the time.” I kissed him again, closing my eyes and breathing him in, amazed by his beauty, amazed by the fact he didn’t fear his honesty. “Then say it.” I whispered. “I love you, Anna.” “I love you too.” I breathed.

He kissed the tattoo at the back of my neck for what felt like the millionth time, stirring me from my serene slumber. I automatically had a smile on my face, I couldn’t help it. I snuggled further into him, his arms wrapped sweetly around my waist. I hated thinking back to the wasted months where we weren’t together, where my mind tortured me with memories and thoughts of him, the way things had been, the way things should have been. I had tried so hard to get over him, to try and convince myself it was the right thing to do, to try and even convince myself that I didn’t love him. But each attempt was a fail. Even when I was with Will, Harry was there in the back of my mind. It was like I could always hear his voice. I think what had made it so difficult was that we were both aware that neither of us wanted things to end, our relationship had been forced to come to a close. There were two people wanting to be together, wanting to find one another. That’s what made it impossible. Maybe I’m too busy being yours to fall for somebody new. As I lay there in his arms, I hated the fact there had been a time where we had gone along with his managements bullshit and let things end. Because this was exactly where I wanted to be. In his arms. He moved his fingertips down to the scar on my stomach, brushing over the raised, smooth skin that had been crafted by hatred guised as love. I breathed in the soft moment, hearing Harry behind me do the same thing, like he still had to fully come to terms with what had happened. We both knew nothing needed to be said about it, but sometimes it was just nice to have him be that way with me, because he was still comforting me about it. Even after all this time. “Good morning, Beautiful.” He kissed the tattoo again. “Do you really have to go out and do press stuff today?” I asked sadly. “Hmm. I don’t want to, but yeah. I’ll make it up to you though.” I turned myself around so I was facing him, a cheeky little grin on my face as I draped my leg over his hip, feeling him shuffle closer to me, our relaxed, naked bodies meshed together. “How?” I cocked my brows. “I’ll buy you flowers.” He smiled. “Oh.” I sulked glumly. “No?” “They just die anyway.” “Unfortunately, all beautiful things do.” “Well... that’s just killed the conversation.” I rolled my eyes. Harry chuckled heavily, kissing at my cheek over and over and he held me, his skin making love to mine. “If not flowers, what do you want?” “Sex.” “You get that anyway!” He laughed. “Really, what do you want?” “Then nothing.” I smiled. He kissed me again, his tongue caressing mine, slowly and gently, leaving me moaning to his open mouth as we moved together. He was so easy to get lost in. I had never found myself lost in another human being. But with Harry, I always was. ”I’ll try to think of something, Honey. I’ll be bored out of my mind all day, I’ll figure something out.” ”I love you.” I told him. ”I love you more.”