***

My lids are heavy, the skin around my eyelashes puffy and slightly swollen from lack of sleep. I stifle a groan as I shift underneath a thin sheet and push the tips of one of my hands through my scalp, massaging random places while I lick my lips and struggle to stretch out the kinks in my body. My legs uncurl from underneath me while I sink my hand deeper in my hair, my toes skimming a rather hairy thigh and making my throbbing eyes fly open. Heart beating fast and brain muddled even more, I look to my left and am surprised to see Harry lying on his back, one arm thrown across his stomach while he rests with his mouth open. His breathing is soft, his body appearing relaxed and tan as he rests with me under the white cotton sheet.

I’m confused for only a moment more before I remember my nightmare, and then I’m sitting up. Cupping my hands in front of my face, I sigh. Moments from the horrible dream swirl into the front of my mind like firecrackers being set off. As I recall bits and pieces, I flinch and inaudibly moan because it’s all just horrible. I know why I had that dream, why I’d woken last night so scared and shaking and unwilling to rest by myself in my own room, and now, in the light of a fresh new morning, I was ashamed. It was my fault that I’d even known those two men and only I had been the reason for them to have been in my hotel room that night, their grubby hands grabbing me because I needed cash and had no other resources to get it.

I want to fling myself back down on the mattress and pile all the pillows on top of me while wrapping up in the sheet, but I can’t; Harry’s still sleeping and I knew he’d be curious about what had made me come to his room so late in the night. Thinking back now, I wish I would’ve just camped out on the sofa with the television on because that would’ve allowed me to avoid the difficult conversation I now know that I’ll have to have at some point. For a second the thought of denying Harry an answer pops into my crossed thoughts, but then I give a shake of my head and curse it away. Harry deserved for me to answer him and I would, no matter how painful, because he’d done the very same thing for me nights ago out on the balcony.

Suddenly, I’m tired again and I ease myself back down, closing my eyes and willing my mind to slow down before something bad happens. Harry rolls over seconds after I lie back down and cuddles up close to my side while one of his long arms slides across my stomach and tugs me closer.

“S’ okay,” he whispers, the words a little jumbled.

I smile a little and turn so I can face him, taking the position we’d fallen asleep in last night.

“What if it’s not?”

“’m won’t let nothin’ happen.”

Then he pulls me even closer, sloppily kissing my forehead. I know he’s still half-asleep, but his words quiet some of the chaos so my muscles ease a little and I can feel a bit of weight being lifted off my chest, worry practically melting away at the feel of his warm skin against mine. But I only lay there for a few minutes longer before I get an idea and start to slide myself away from him.



The smell of syrup and salty bacon wafts through the hotel hallway, a mouthful of salvia being swallowed down as I pull out Harry’s room key and unlock the suite door. Instantly, I’m met with the curly haired man, a giggle slipping out when I notice his frantic and confused expression.

“I thought you left!” he exclaims.

I laugh again. “I did, but only to get breakfast. I was going to cook, but then I remembered that this place doesn’t have a stove.”

Moving towards the dining table, I throw my purse down in a chair and start to pull things from bags, whirling around to hand Harry the cup of coffee I’d ordered for him. I smile brightly as he takes it, laughing again because he still looks confused.

“But… I don’t… You got me breakfast?” Nodding, I push myself up on a free space that rests on a corner of the table and bring my own coffee to my lips. I watch Harry carefully, assessing him like he’s doing me. But after a few minutes, things seem to click and I can see a smirk starting to wrap its way right on his lips. “I like breakfast.”

I can’t help but laugh loudly at this, throwing my head back as my mouth opens wide. As I giggle at his quip, Harry moves closer to me and grips my waist with his right hand. He starts to chuckle as I settle a bit and moves closer, so his bare chest is pressing against mine. His eyes are serious as they stare back at mine.

“Are you alright?” I ask.

He swallows thickly before answering. “I thought you’d left me.”

“Oh, no,” I hum, lurching forward and not caring that he’s standing in between my legs now. “No, Harry. I only went down the street to get pancakes and coffee.”

“But your nightmare… And then you were gone when I woke up.”

“I’m sorry. I won’t leave you again when you’re sleeping,” I promise.

This seems to be good enough for him, because he lets out a big gust of air through his nose and his eyes lull a little. He leans forward and rests his coffee cup on the space behind me before pressing his forehead to mine. Then his lips are enveloping my bottom one, a throaty moan nearly escaping out as I grip the table tightly and try to kiss him back. Meanwhile, his hand is creeping up to the back of my head, where he threads his fingers through my tangled strands and presses my head closer. But just when I think he’s going to try and slip his tongue in, he’s pulling away, his breath cascading over my face.

I breathe heavy too and try to get my balance while still gripping the table. When I open my eyes, he’s grinning again, his top teeth coming down to snag his bottom lip.

“So what’re we having for breakfast?” he asks.

Clearing my throat, I blink a few times and try to remember what I bought for him and I. “P-pancakes. And bacon. Oh, and coffee, too, obviously.”

He moves over to open all the Styrofoam packages that held the food and, with one more steady breath, I kick off my shoes and follow suit. We make a makeshift picnic in the middle of the living room and eat slivers of thick bacon wedged between two bites of fluffy pancakes. Harry stretches his legs out so one of his toes can touch my thigh and I let him try a bite of the mixture of syrup, pancakes, and eggs that I came up with, laughing when he crinkles his nose.

I don’t know how long we sit like there for, but by the time we’re gathering all the things back up, I’m sleepy again and all the morning news shows have given way to ones full of people who wear too much makeup to be on this early in the day.

After we deposit our trash in a bin, Harry pulls me down onto the sofa and lets me rest with my head on his chest and my legs curled up on his thigh as he reclines with his on the coffee table. I get lost in tracing the pretty swallows on his collarbones while he flips between two or three shows.

In this time, I realize that we’re probably creeping closer and closer to my admittance of what I’d been doing the night when we’d met. Sometimes I feel my cheeks blaze when I think about it, and I wonder how I’ll do when I have to look him in the eyes and explain the circumstances I’d found myself in. When I sigh, Harry grips my waist tightly.

“Something wrong, love?” he asks.

I hesitate for a moment, wondering if I should take this chance or let him ask. I bite down on my lip and push one side of my face deeper into his naked chest.

“No, just sleepy.”

He lets out a hum. “Is your nightmare still bothering you?” I just shake my head. “What was it about, anyway? I don’t think you said last night.”

My heart starts hammering frantically in my chest. I don’t know if I’ve stopped breathing or if my mind is just too busy screaming at me to remember that I need oxygen, but suddenly I feel winded. I have to swallow because my throat is starched dry.

“Remember how you were scared to tell me about you and Louis?” He shifts underneath me, but lets out a hum of an answer. “Well, I’m scared to tell you about my dream because it’s about the night we met.”

His fingers push pieces of my hair away from the only visible side of my face and he pecks my temple. “You don’t have to be afraid, love. I swear I’m not going anywhere.”

“But it’s bad, Harry.”

“I don’t care how bad it is, Delaney, I’m not going to leave you. That’s a promise, and I always keep my promises.”

I peek up at him, looking over his pretty face for a little while as I try to decide if I should chicken out or do as I’d planned all along. Do I finally give Harry everything, or do I protect myself like life taught me?