Let's Pretend It's Love

I didn’t go home that night.

I was feeling a bit fatigue from my spell of panic and Harry insisted that I shouldn’t be alone. I didn’t put up a fight. When we’d finally made it up to his flat he gave me a change of clothes and forced me to eat something. I hadn’t uttered a word, except maybe to mumble a thanks or two. What was there to say? What do you say after a guy professes his love for you and you run away from him and make a big scene?

“I’m going to take the couch. You alright?” Harry announces standing in the door frame of his bedroom. The room is dim with the exception of the lamp sitting on his bedside table. His hair is still damp from the rain and pulled into a bun and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so exhausted.

I sigh as my head lifts from the pillow.

“No.” I breathe.

His eyebrows furrow. “Need an aspirin?”

“No,” I repeat. “don’t take the couch. Come and sleep with me.”

I pat the empty space next to me. Harry’s face grows solemn and his lips purse into a thin line. His face can be so expressive sometimes but other times, it’s so hard to read. It feels like forever when he finally comes over and slides next to me under the duvet. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding in as I feel his arms snaking around my waist. My stomach drops and I’m not sure this is the greatest idea after my breakdown and all .Harry doesn’t seem to think so as he buries his face in the crook of my neck. I close my eyes, fighting back a giggle as his stubble tickles my skin.

“I won’t hurt you. I’d never hurt you.” he whispers.

I grow silent. I want to say something but I don’t know what’s appropriate at the moment. I turn on my side to face him and our noses brush. I still can’t get over how green his eyes are-like glass bottles crushed to make mosaic art for everyone to marvel at. I reach out to brush my thumb against his jawline.The corner of his lips curve up into a half-hearted smile.

“Won’t you be mine?”

I’m not sure if he’s looking for a real answer or if he’s just thinking out loud. I don’t know what to say or what to do so I only lean over and press my mouth to his. He was never mine and I was never his. It’d never be that way. But maybe, just for tonight, we can pretend.

His hand caresses my hair and I roll over so that I’m lying on top of him. I am kissing him, kissing him like sky is falling and the sun’s stopped shinning. I am kissing him like I’ve never kissed anyone before. His hands travel the length of my back and fasten themselves to my hips but he pulls his mouth away from mine.

“We should probably go to bed.” he rasped. His lips are swollen and his breathing a bit jagged.

“But, don’t you want to?” I questioned in a breathy whisper.

His hands begin traveling the length of my torso again, this time under the fabric of the thin t-shirt he’d lent me. His thumbs run lazy circles against my stomach that make my heart race. By the way he drags is fingers across my skin, I can tell he wants to. Suddenly, I want to, too. The end is here and we both know it. And if so, why not end on a positive note?

“I-I. Fuck. Of course I do. I just-” Harry’s voice trailed off and I sighed, bringing my forehead to meet his.

“I’m fine. Let’s not make tonight about me. Let’s make it about us.”

There’s a gleam in Harry’s eyes, something I can’t quite read. He sits up abruptly, slumping against the head board and pulling my hips to him. Without any prior warning he latches his mouth to the flesh of my neck, sucking a bruise just beneath my chin.The sensation doesn’t last long when he pulls away.

“Roll over.” he whispers huskily in the shell of my ear.

I let out a sharp laugh.

“I am not a dog, ” I swipe my tongue against my bottom lip. “ shut up and let me do something.” I reply darkly.

The corner of his lips curve up into a slow, lopsided grin.

“Bossy. I like it.”

I toss the duvet aside before going back to straddling him. My fingertips sink into the hem of his shirt and Harry lifts up his arms, allowing me to snake the thin fabric up his torso. I’m satisfied and completely turned on at the sight of all the ink etched on his skin. As stupid as I found most of his tattoos to be, I couldn’t resist the urge to touch every single one of them. I wanted to touch him, every single inch of him.

I tugged at the hair tie securing his hair in place, causing it to tumble down his shoulders.

“I reckon you’ve got a penchant for wearing things on your head during moments like this.” I hissed, weaving my fingers through his soft curls.

He presses a wet kiss to my mouth and I can feel his smirk against my lips.

“It’s kind of my kink, yeah? I think it’s sexy.” he joked.

I gently push his back against the head board before leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to the first bit of visible ink just below his clavicle bone. Harry goes completely limp as I travel the length of his torso. His fingers dig into my hips and I feel him growing underneath me. I stop when I finally reach his stomach, paying extra attention to the butterfly etched there. I’ve always secretly loved that butterfly.

His hand travels to my hair once I’ve reached his belly button, just above the elastic band of his shorts. He lets out a low groan, tugging at my tresses briefly.

“Presley, I need you to roll over.” Harry hisses.

I smirk up at him, hair wild about his head and perfectly pink lips swollen.

“But I-”

“I need you to roll over. Now.” he bites the corner of his lip. “I need to touch you.”

Too aroused to protest, I do as I’m told. I’m lying on my back in anticipation, my heart racing with excitement.

This is going to happen. No anxiety, no interruptions. Just pure bliss and total release.

Harry hovers over me, parting my knees slightly before settling between my legs. I moan softly, feeling him hard against me.

He leans down, pressing his mouth to mine. His tongue swirls aimlessly around my mouth as he grinds against me. My hands fist the sheets and I’m absolutely certain I’m going to lose it.

“Shit, Harry,” I breathe once he pulls away. “that’s not fair. Hurry up.” I hiss.

I feel him smirking into the crook of my neck and his hands slowly slide down to my waist. His fingers tug at the band of my joggers making my whole body shiver . I think he’s going to pull them down but instead he leans forward , hovering over my ear.

“I think it’s so sexy when you wear my clothes,” he drawls. His teeth graze my earlobe in a slow and teasing manner as if to match his words. “I’d fuck you in them if I could.”

I open my mouth to say something but nothing comes out. Months ago, I would have never imagined being in this situation, lying on my back with Harry hovering over me in tiny Calvin Klein’s and whispering salacious words in my ear. But at this moment I was all for it.

“Harry.” I moan in desperation. I am growing impatient, dying for him to touch me.

He smirks before sitting back on his knees and expertly bring the joggers down to my ankles. I kick them off before Harry grabs the hem of my shirt, tossing it over my head. A draft of winter chill hits my skin and I squirm, suddenly feeling self conscious about my pale body, plain cotton bra and knickers.

“Sorry, no sexy surprises this time.” I quip.

His hands rest on the sides of my stomach as he shrugs.

“Who cares, it’s coming off anyway.”

I nod slowly, giving him the green light to do what I know he’s been waiting to do. We’re right at the place where we left off before.

Harry carefully takes his fingertips and tugs at the straps of my bra. He leans over to press a kiss to my shoulder as I sit back on my elbows, fumbling with the clasp. It lands on the floor without the slightest thump once I’m successful in getting it off. Lying on my back again, I suddenly feel less insecure.

“Beautiful.” Harry hums, sitting between my legs again.

His hands reach out to cup my breasts, my back arching at the sensation. I’m lying here in pure bliss, nearly powerless and totally ready for Harry to just get on with it. But he moves so slow.

“Harry. Please.” I groan.

“Tell me,” he drawls, leaning down and peppering kisses against my collar bone.

His mouth is warm and wet against my skin and I unsuccessfully bite back a moan as he latches on to my nipple. His hand does the job for the other, giving his mouth time to travel the my rest of my body.

“Tell me what you want, babe.”

His mouth travels further and further, kissing the bruises he leaves behind and the rasp in his voice drives me completely wild.

I can’t deny it anymore.

“You.” I whimper.

His final kiss stops right beneath my belly button and he slowly lifts his head to meet my gaze. His eyes are greener than ever and God; I wanted him. Every bit of him.

“Say it again.”

There’s the slightest hint of a dimple in his cheeks and his eyes glitter with mischief as his hand slips down the front of my knickers, a finger sliding teasingly against me.

I bite down hard on my bottom lip.

“I want you. You, Harry. ” I hissed. “I want you so bad.”

My answer seems to please him and I frown when he snatches his hand away and swings his legs over to the other side of the bed. I think that maybe he’s paying me back for the last time.When he rummages through his nightstand drawer and retrieves a familiar foil packet the stupid idea leaves my mind.

I watch in a lustful haze as Harry shimmies out of his shorts and slides the condom on. I’m pretty impressed with his length and I kind of want to snap a picture and send it to Charlotte just so she knows I was right all along.

I wiggle out of my knickers and he’s hovering over me again, hair tumbling down his face in the sexiest way ever. A mixture of excitement and nerves courses through my veins and I can’t quite tell which emotion is the dominate one. Harry takes my hands that lie awkwardly at my side and turns my palms up so that his own hands can rest there. I wrap my legs around his waist, bringing him closer to me and he intertwines our fingers.

“You okay?” he whispers resting his forehead against mine.

My breath hitches in my throat and I hope my nerves aren’t getting the best of me.

“Yeah. Go ahead.”

I close my eyes, wincing at the throbbing pressure between my legs as he pushes. Harry sucks in a deep breath, moving until his hips meet mine. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding in and my eyes shoot open, meeting his jade irises.

“Alright?” he asks again, his breath shaky.

He stops moving and I slowly nod before lifting my hips upwards in an attempt to adjust until I decide I’m totally ready.

“Move.” I pant.

Harry untangles our fingers and places his hands on my hips. A gasp escapes me and my hands clutch his back as he sinks in deeper. He moves at a slow and gradual pace that drives me wild. Part of me wants to tell him to hurry up but another part of me loves the undivided attention he’s giving.

His head settles in the crook of my neck and he groans against my skin, quickening his pace a bit.

“God,” he hums, the vibration of his voice against my flesh makes me shudder. “you feel incredible, love. So, so incredible.”

Incredible wasn’t even the word. I’d had other boys before but Harry was in a totally different league. He very was detailed oriented, listening to the sounds I made and paying attention to the way my body reacted to his touch. It was obvious he had an affinity for romanticism, making sure to shower my skin with kisses and intertwine our fingers. Our bodies had long fallen in a steady rhythm, clinging to each other from a sheen of perspiration that had built on our skin. He keeps eye contact, staring at me like I put the stars in the sky and only occasionally closing his eyes during burst of pleasure. I don’t want to look away first. Ever.

I’d never had this before, pure intimacy and total affection.

If the idea of being with Harry was so wrong, why did this feel so goddamn right? Sex with Harry was like firecrackers on a summer’s night and bubbly champagne spilling down your throat on New Year’s Eve. It was a wildfire of desires, a big bang in which the lines between friends and lovers collide.

Harry’s thrust soon grow sloppy and I can feel that familiar sensation building up in my stomach. I know he’s loosing his stamina, trying so hard to make me come undone.

“I want you to come,” he pants , lapping at the freshly bruised skin on my neck.

His words are motivating but not quite enough to send me over the edge.

“I think I’m close.” I gasp, weakly. I want to and I try hard not to think about it too much.

He bucks his hips into me, making me slam my eyes closed in bliss.

“ I promise you will. I won’t come until you do.”

His hand moves between us, successfully finding my clit. My head rolls back into the pillow from the contact and my nails claw his back much harder than I intended. He suddenly moves much slower and more careful but also much quicker and more intensely as his fingers dance expertly against the bundle of nerves. I lift my hips to match his thrust but I soon lose it. I’m certain I’ve forgotten to breathe and my head feels weightless. I reach my peak just as he promised with a loud contented sigh. Harry follows soon after, grunting into the crook of my neck as I writher beneath him. For a moment we lie there, tangled in each other and trying to catch our breath while we listen to the drumming of our heartbeats. The moment probably lasted a minuet or two, but I honestly wouldn’t mind if it lasted an eternity.

“Fuck,” Harry mumbles once he finally rolls off of me.

His breathing is still not quite normal and his chest heaves, glistening with sweat. Still in a daze of passion, I can’t speak. He turns over on his side and presses a kiss to my mouth, tugging at my bottom lip briefly before leaving to dispose of the condom. I don’t even stir. If this was like the movies, I’d doze off into a peaceful slumber with an orchestra of violins blissfully playing in my head. If this were like the movies, this would be the be-all and end-all, the start of a perfect relationship. But this is not the movies, and nothing is perfect and this is not the start of anything; it’s simply the end.

It’s not long before he returns, sliding under the duvet with a contented sigh. His skin feels warm against mine, almost burning, and he wraps his arms around me. I rest my head in the crook of his neck, just underneath his chin in fear of staring into those hypnotic green eyes of his. We are the closest we’ve ever been and maybe the closest we will ever be.

“Good, yeah?” he hums, breaking the silence.

“Great.” I whisper, my voice hoarse.

I want to say more but I also don’t want to say too much. I say just enough so that I don’t hurt his feelings even though I know I’m bound to anyway.

“Amazing.”

A beat of silence passed between us and I pull the cotton sheets closer to my chest and close my eyes, hoping that maybe sleep will come and take this sudden sadness with it.

“I knew,” he drawls, taking in a deep breath.

My eyes flutter open and my brows furrow.

“What?”

I run a finger down his chest as the pads of his finger tips brush against my bare skin.

“When you got shit faced at the Wild Sphinx, I knew.”

In the morning,when the first few rays of sunshine have peaked through his curtains, I am gone. I don’t want to be but I am. Gone with his fingertips lingering on my skin, gone with his favorite Rolling Stones t-shirt, the taste of his mouth burning on my tongue and images of the night before flashing through my mind. I want to stay but I know it’s better this way. No more no more what ifs, no more blurred lines and trying to be something that we’re not. No more pretending. That’s what got us in this fine mess anyway.