Fold
one
“Harry, stop!” she squealed, tears streaming down her temples from laughing so hard as she laid back on the bedroom floor. He was on top of her, wildly tickling her sides with a wicked smirk on his face.
“Make me,” he challenged, his accent thick.
Stella thought quickly, moving her hands from his forearms to his shoulders before pushing him off her and onto the ground beside her. She followed up by getting on top of him, straddling his hips and placing his lean, tattooed arms above his head, pinning him down.
“Oh, how the tables have turned,” she countered with a broad smile.
She bent down to give him a swift to the corner of his lips and adjusted so just her right hand was holding his hands in place. Her left hand found the hem of his thin white t-shirt and pulled it up, revealing his torso with a black and grey tattoo of a moth placed directly in the center. Her smile faded as she marveled at the sight, because as many times as she’d seen him- all of him, she could never get enough of the man. However, she recovered in time to smirk at him before bending down, pressing her mouth directly onto the tattoo and blowing onto the skin. Harry immediately irrupted into a fit of giggles, throwing his head back.
“Stop! Please! I can’t breathe!” he begged lightheartedly, but Stella never ceased. She moved along his stomach, blowing raspberries wherever she could. She fought hard to keep from laughing herself. One of the things she loved most about him was how contagious his giggles were. Harry freed his hands from her grip and he placed his hand gently under his chin, pulling her up to look at him. His dimples were more evident than ever when he looked at her, his bright green eyes lit up from laughter.
“Baby, please?” he asked. She returned his smile and moved up his body to give him a soft kiss on his lips before resting her head on his chest.
They stayed there for a while, on the ground. She listened to his heartbeat as he lightly traced patterns across her back with his fingertips.
“I don’t want to leave,” she suddenly blurted out, breaking the silence.
“Then don’t.”
“It’s not that simple, Harry, you know that,” she frowned. “All my stuff is in America, with my stupid dad-“
“Move,” he shrugged. “That man is ruining your life. You’re twenty years old anyway, love. That is not your home. You need to move on, literally and emotionally.”
“I know,” she said in defeat. “I just think moving from home to another country is a big jump.”
“I think getting out of California at least would be good for you, though. Is there any place you’d want to go? Don’t think about the money or the details. Don’t think about anything. Where do you see yourself being happy?”
“Anywhere you are,” she replied playfully, but he could also sense the sincerity of it as a blush crept onto her cheeks. He smiled adoringly at her, brushing the hair out of her face with his fingertips.
“Don’t think about anything, including me,” he encouraged. A sour look spread momentarily on her face before she sighed and opened her mouth to respond.
“Portland.”
“Portland?”
“Yeah,” she said. “I’ve dreamed of it since I was a little girl.”
“Then to Portland we’ll go.”
“We?” she squeaked, her throat suddenly going dry. She sat up to look at him.
“I can support us. We can leave. I don’t need to stay in England, anyway. My future is with you, wherever you choose to be,” he breathed. “I’m invested in this,” he said with an even tone. “I’m all in. If you’re willing to let me in, I’m not going anywhere. Not until you tell me to go.”
“Promise?”
He sat up to place a soft kiss the corner of her jaw. “Promise.”
-
The distant memory flooded back into her mind and it caused her chest to physically ache just like it all happened yesterday.
Harry was lying beside her on her bed, and furrowed his brows at the sight of her, her chest suddenly showing evidence of her labored breathing. It was almost dark, and the sunset coming through the window was the only light being shed onto the small apartment bedroom.
“Are you alright?”
“You promised,” she choked, tears threatening to leave her eyes. “You promised you wouldn’t leave until I told you to. I didn’t tell you to go, I didn’t fucking want you to leave.”
“I know Stella, I’m sorry,” he whispered to her, fighting off his own tears. “I wish I could explain, that I could tell you something that would suddenly make it all okay but I can’t offer you that. I can only do something about now.”
“I don’t want you to do anything,” she said, her eyes closing. “I was just healing, just learning to breathe properly again when I saw you today.
He winced at her words and fought hard not to grab her into an embrace.
If only you know what hell I’ve been through, too.
He stood up and grabbed his coat. He told her he’d be back in the morning before exiting the apartment just as abruptly as he showed up, leaving Stella heaving and just as broken as when he left the first time.
“Make me,” he challenged, his accent thick.
Stella thought quickly, moving her hands from his forearms to his shoulders before pushing him off her and onto the ground beside her. She followed up by getting on top of him, straddling his hips and placing his lean, tattooed arms above his head, pinning him down.
“Oh, how the tables have turned,” she countered with a broad smile.
She bent down to give him a swift to the corner of his lips and adjusted so just her right hand was holding his hands in place. Her left hand found the hem of his thin white t-shirt and pulled it up, revealing his torso with a black and grey tattoo of a moth placed directly in the center. Her smile faded as she marveled at the sight, because as many times as she’d seen him- all of him, she could never get enough of the man. However, she recovered in time to smirk at him before bending down, pressing her mouth directly onto the tattoo and blowing onto the skin. Harry immediately irrupted into a fit of giggles, throwing his head back.
“Stop! Please! I can’t breathe!” he begged lightheartedly, but Stella never ceased. She moved along his stomach, blowing raspberries wherever she could. She fought hard to keep from laughing herself. One of the things she loved most about him was how contagious his giggles were. Harry freed his hands from her grip and he placed his hand gently under his chin, pulling her up to look at him. His dimples were more evident than ever when he looked at her, his bright green eyes lit up from laughter.
“Baby, please?” he asked. She returned his smile and moved up his body to give him a soft kiss on his lips before resting her head on his chest.
They stayed there for a while, on the ground. She listened to his heartbeat as he lightly traced patterns across her back with his fingertips.
“I don’t want to leave,” she suddenly blurted out, breaking the silence.
“Then don’t.”
“It’s not that simple, Harry, you know that,” she frowned. “All my stuff is in America, with my stupid dad-“
“Move,” he shrugged. “That man is ruining your life. You’re twenty years old anyway, love. That is not your home. You need to move on, literally and emotionally.”
“I know,” she said in defeat. “I just think moving from home to another country is a big jump.”
“I think getting out of California at least would be good for you, though. Is there any place you’d want to go? Don’t think about the money or the details. Don’t think about anything. Where do you see yourself being happy?”
“Anywhere you are,” she replied playfully, but he could also sense the sincerity of it as a blush crept onto her cheeks. He smiled adoringly at her, brushing the hair out of her face with his fingertips.
“Don’t think about anything, including me,” he encouraged. A sour look spread momentarily on her face before she sighed and opened her mouth to respond.
“Portland.”
“Portland?”
“Yeah,” she said. “I’ve dreamed of it since I was a little girl.”
“Then to Portland we’ll go.”
“We?” she squeaked, her throat suddenly going dry. She sat up to look at him.
“I can support us. We can leave. I don’t need to stay in England, anyway. My future is with you, wherever you choose to be,” he breathed. “I’m invested in this,” he said with an even tone. “I’m all in. If you’re willing to let me in, I’m not going anywhere. Not until you tell me to go.”
“Promise?”
He sat up to place a soft kiss the corner of her jaw. “Promise.”
-
The distant memory flooded back into her mind and it caused her chest to physically ache just like it all happened yesterday.
Harry was lying beside her on her bed, and furrowed his brows at the sight of her, her chest suddenly showing evidence of her labored breathing. It was almost dark, and the sunset coming through the window was the only light being shed onto the small apartment bedroom.
“Are you alright?”
“You promised,” she choked, tears threatening to leave her eyes. “You promised you wouldn’t leave until I told you to. I didn’t tell you to go, I didn’t fucking want you to leave.”
“I know Stella, I’m sorry,” he whispered to her, fighting off his own tears. “I wish I could explain, that I could tell you something that would suddenly make it all okay but I can’t offer you that. I can only do something about now.”
“I don’t want you to do anything,” she said, her eyes closing. “I was just healing, just learning to breathe properly again when I saw you today.
He winced at her words and fought hard not to grab her into an embrace.
If only you know what hell I’ve been through, too.
He stood up and grabbed his coat. He told her he’d be back in the morning before exiting the apartment just as abruptly as he showed up, leaving Stella heaving and just as broken as when he left the first time.