Devil's Due [h.s.]

Chapter 47

Chapter 47

I'd forgotten to set an alarm.

The thought struck me suddenly, yanking me from sleep, eyes opening to a dark room, lit only by the faint rays of the rising sun pouring in from the outside. A feeling of panic overwhelmed me, threatening to bubble right over into the frantic physical need to jump right out of bed, to make sure that I hadn't overslept and forgotten to open the studio.

Except for the fact that I was trapped. Trapped between a set of arms, calloused with scars full of meaning I was sure I didn't entirely understand yet and littered with tattoos. Harry's chest was pressed flush against my back, the two of us laying on our sides, our legs intertwined. The only sound audible was his soft, rhythmic breathing.

His face was buried right in the crook where my shoulder met my neck, close enough that I could feel every breath he took skittering across my skin, each of which woke me up just a smidgen more than the last. I glanced down, relieved to see that – whether it had been intentional or not – I was restrained. His hands were closed over the top of mine, holding them tightly to my chest, where I wouldn't have been able to touch him even if I tried.

The entire thing was... intimate. And I wasn't sure if I hated myself more for somehow sleeping so soundly beside him that I hadn't even woken up enough to realize we'd ended up in this position or because I didn't entirely hate it. The part I knew I hated for sure was the fact that I was suddenly calm, somehow having forgotten whatever it was that had woken me up in such a state and could only manage to think about how long we could realistically stay like this – together and comfortable – before the world spun on its axis again and things fell back to how they normally were.

As if in response to this thought, Harry began to stir behind me. His breathing hitched, catching enough in his throat that there was a brief rush of cool air against my neck that prickled my skin before I could feel his body tense behind me. Then I panicked again. Remembering how he'd been back in Italy, how upset he'd been to wake up and find out that he'd touched me while asleep, even though I had no problem with it.

I waited for it to come. The anxiety, the hysteria – like he'd worked himself into last time. Only this time, seconds went by and nothing happened. I knew he was awake because he shifted slightly, pulling his face a fraction away from my neck, his breathing less deep and more even than if he was still asleep. A few more seconds and still... nothing. Right when I'd been about to make a sound, let him know that I was awake, Harry's hand suddenly shifted from where it was currently resting over top of my own.

Needless to say, I had no time to prepare nor did I even know how to react when he drew it up to my shoulder. The pad of his thumb ran gently down the length of my arm, so gently that I wouldn't have been able to feel it had I been asleep, something I was sure he'd been banking on. So, scrapping my original plan of making a noise and getting his attention, I instead pretended to do exactly what he thought I was still doing. I pretended to sleep.

And god if that wasn't the hardest thing I'd ever had to fucking do in my entire life. Harder than when I'd gone to Damien's masquerade and had to front as Ava, harder than the relentless self-defence training Harry put me through every week, harder than the fucking drug drop I'd done, harder than even worrying he was dead. All because the last thing I wanted to do was keep still and pretend to be asleep.

I wanted to lean into his touch, I wanted to soak up the feeling of his sudden softness, I wanted this gentleness – this intimacy – he currently held bottled and kept for me to use whenever needed, no matter how selfish it would be to demand that of him, solely because I knew it would be stronger than any drug I'd ever be able to get my hands on. It was a challenge on its own not to do these things, not to acknowledge these feelings and ignore the urge to turn over and see his face, but rather force myself to remain calm, to even and deepen my breathing.