Truly Madly Deeply (Harry Styles FanFic)

Chapter 43

I JUST REALIZED THIS STORY GOT OVER 7,000 READSSS. OH MY STYLES.

yes I just said that.

BUT OH SNAPPP GUYS. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING xxxxxx

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Carly’s POV:

            Sun light seeped through the window as my eyes fluttered open. I let out a small yawn and buried my face in the soft pillow that smelt like Harry. His room was kind of like what I had imagined; posters, laptop, TV, all that kind of stuff. One thing that was surprising was that Harry’s room was really neat. He was a clean freak, apparently. The pillow I was sleeping on smelt just like Harry did, along with his duvet. I suddenly felt someone’s arms wrap around my waist and pull me in, and my back was met by Harry’s hard, shirtless chest. He insisted on just wearing his pajama bottoms and no shirt, and since I lost that argument, that’s exactly what he did.

            “Morning,” Harry’s raspy morning voice says, sending chills down my back. His morning voice is something else – it’s so hot, I swear.

            Harry nuzzles his face on the bare space that meets my neck and shoulder, since I am wearing a tank top. His curls tickle my jaw and a smile falls on my lips. “Morning,” I mumble. “I don’t wanna get up.”

            I feel Harry’s lips come in contact with my shoulder as he kisses my shoulder. “Neither do I,” he murmurs. “Let’s just stay in bed all day.”

            I chuckle slightly, and turn my head a bit so I can see his face. “But Gemma’s coming home today,” I remind him.

            “You’re right,” he says, and then looks down at me. “You look cute,” he smiles cheekily.

            I roll my eyes at him. “Please,” I say. “I just woke up and haven’t even showered.”

            “So?” Harry gives a one shoulder shrug. “You still look beautiful.”

            A blush creeps on to my cheeks as I then ask, “Wanna make some breakfast for your family?”

            Harry grins, exposing his dimples. “Yeah,” he says. “Let’s go,” he jumps off the bed, and I laugh.

            “Can’t I at least change first?” I ask, propping myself up with my elbows.

            “Nope!” Harry exclaims, and before I know it, I’m being thrown over Harry’s shoulder and carried down the stairs. I laugh as Harry enters the kitchen and puts me down, my bare feet coming in contact with the cold wooden floor.

            Once I’m on the floor I throw my head back so my long hair can fall down my back. “Thanks,” I say sarcastically.