Eucalyptus & Honey |H.S.|

Chapter 17 - Oh So Far from Home

I awoke to the feeling of something weighing me down into the mattress beneath me. It was a comforting sort of weight. Like a weighted blanket. A very heavy weighted blanket.

Harry's body had somehow found its way on top of mine, his head resting on my chest, and legs sprawled between mine.

Based on the sun streaming in high through the curtains, I guessed it was still early morning. So, rather than shove him off of me, I decided to let him sleep a little bit longer. Despite the fact that I was practically sweating through the thin material of Harry's borrowed shirt. I was way too fucking nice.

After Harry had said he wanted a cigarette last night, he forced his George Harrison t-shirt over my head, pulled on his underwear, and practically carried me out to the quiet beach; cigarettes and lighter in hand. It made me nervous that someone would possibly see us both looking fucked out of our minds, and sharing a cigarette on an empty beach. But he reassured me that wouldn't happen. I still didn't totally believe him, but I guess he had more to worry about if the paps saw us than I did, so I forced myself to chill the fuck out after that.

He had sat on the stairs, pulling me into his lap, and lit a single cigarette for us to share. The gesture felt oddly intimate. It crossed my mind that he could've been doing it just so that he didn't have to waste a cigarette on me, considering that there were only a couple left in the pack. But, I somehow knew that wasn't the reason. He just wanted to share. And it was a fucking weird thing to give a shit about, but fuck if it didn't make my heart thunder in my ears.

We sat on the beach, mostly silent, sharing nothing but burnt lungs and the heat of our skin. We sat there until our lungs turned a shade blacker, and our skin rose with goosebumps. Until the silence grew too loud, and we both became too afraid of what happens between us when there's silence. Too afraid to find out whatever the fuck this was between us.

So, before the silence had a chance to do any of that, Harry stood up, interlocked our fingers, and pulled me back into the room. We headed straight for the bathroom and undressed quickly, before stepping into the shower. We washed ourselves—hands wandering, but never truly initiating anything—and Harry grabbed me a clean t-shirt and a pair of his underwear for me to wear, as well as a pair for him. After that, we fell into bed and into sleep quickly, limbs and hearts interlocking more than either of us had realized.

Now, I brushed my lips over Harry's soft curls and traced my fingers over his ink-free back. He was still breathing deeply, seeming to be fully asleep.

He really was heavy, so I adjusted my hips into a more comfortable position. He must have been closer to waking up than I had realized, however, because he suddenly groaned at my movements, burying his head further into my chest. I bit my lip to hide my smile, and continued exploring his back without speaking.

I felt Harry's weight shift on my body as he suddenly propped himself up onto his elbows, making me drop my arms from around his back. He moved his hands to the hem of my—his—shirt, and quickly lifted it up to just below my chin, exposing my breasts. His eyes looked puffy with sleep, and his right cheek was slightly pink from when it had been resting on my chest. He still looked absolutely beautiful, but it was a more innocent sort of beautiful. Somehow, that was even better than his normal beautiful.

His face broke out into a lazy grin as he stared down at my now-exposed chest. "Love wakin' up to your tits, angel." He bent his head down and pressed a surprisingly soft kiss to the peaks of each of my breasts, before lifting his eyes to mine. They were a pale green, slightly red from sleep, and his cheeky smile was soul-crushing in its beauty. I nearly had to shut my eyes against the overwhelming perfection of him. It was irritating. I knew I probably looked like shit.