What The Heart Wants (h.s.)

Chapter One

Song | The Heart Wants What It Wants

"You got me sippin' on something I can't compare to nothing."

-

Ebony

♡

His heartbeat was a steady drum underneath my ear, occasionally speeding up in its pace as my fingers brushed against different aspects of his skin. My body felt safe in its cocoon of his arms, effectively pressing my body into his. With each of his breaths, his chest moved slowly and rhythmically, and with them, I felt myself lull closer and closer to the contentment of unconsciousness.

"Eb," his voice was scratchy, the underlying raspiness being evident of his silence for the past few moments in time. "Ebony," he tried again, and this time my body shifted allowing him to know I was still very much awake, though nearing on the verge of sleep. "You're awake, yeah?"

"Barely," I yawned, snuggling further into his chest as he chuckled before pulling the blanket higher up our bodies. An array of sheets laid below us on the floor in a haphazard fashion to mimic a makeshift pallet. Crazy, Stupid, Love was playing on the television, though it grew to be more of just background noise as we thoroughly divulged in the presence of each other.

Harry sighed momentarily. His body was seemingly more tense than it had been only moments before. In an effort to ease whatever was going on through his head, I pushed my head up from his chest, so my upper half was hovering over him. I pecked his lips lightly before offering a gentle smile.

"What's going on in that handsome head of yours?"

He smiled softly with that before the smile melted off his face, being replaced with furrowed brows and a slight frown. "Do you think we'll last? As in our relationship?"

His question was abrupt, and I hadn't really anticipated it. The desperate look in his eyes didn't help matters either.

I smiled as best as I could, though with my heart racing and stomach dropping, I hoped my face didn't quite mirror how I was feeling. "Well, I sure hope so, handsome."

His frown dipped down further. "I'm serious, Eb. No joking."

"Harry," I whispered his name so softly I wasn't entirely sure he heard it, but with the intense way in which his eyes gazed up at me, I knew he had. After a few moments of meeting his gaze, I allowed my forehead to fall forward against his chest. "Harry," I whispered again, enjoying the taste of his name on my tongue.

His arms never did falter around me.

"Ebony," he returned, breathily speaking my name.

And in the next moment, I was alone. My head was no longer being supported on his chest, and my body felt exceptionally colder without the safeguard of his arms around me. The sheets were tangled around my legs almost as if his were never there to begin with. The room was significantly darker; the TV was blank without a single flicker of light.

"Harry," I whispered, sitting up before looking around the flat. "Harry," my voice grew more frantic as I turned around, whipping about the sheets as if I'd find him buried beneath them laughing at my hysterics. "Harry!" I yelled this time, though it was slowly occurring to me it was no use. I was alone.

He was gone.

-

I woke up in cold sweat. My heart pounding so roughly against my chest I was sure it would beat right through the skin. It was sickening the effect that dream had on me; the state in which I was in was sickening as my breathing was wracking my body in ragged, harsh puffs of air. My hand, shaking with esteemed power, came up to push my hair of my sweat covered forehead, moving it behind my ears.