red herring [h.s.]

49. (*)

*cracks knuckles* let's gooooo

Harry.

I always loved waking up next to Stella.

She looked peaceful when she slept. Her cheeks were puffed up and pink from how many blankets she had on top of her during the night usually. The heat of my body pressed to hers warmed her up even more. Often, she was cuddled all the way into my chest, engulfed by my arms, my chin on top of her head or my lips pressed to her forehead. She usually breathed into my throat, arms tucked into her and legs tangled with mine.

When I woke up, my mind was blank. For just a few moments, I used to forget that I was lying to her, that I was using her, that she'd hate me if it ever got out.

I felt like I was finally at a point where the truth felt relieving. It hadn't in these first few weeks, not with Stella's attitude towards me. Now, we were back to the way we were. Glued together clumsily. I knew not one thing could go wrong now or we'd be shattered again.

There were still so many things for us to talk about. One being my line of work and what I did in Matt's company. The other being what on earth we were going to do once were free to leave here. The idea sounded liberating and it was around the corner. Today, Stella would write the column and lure Kristina somewhere, so it was safe for us to leave.

At the same time, nothing scared me more. I had free, full access to Stella as long as we were in this house. I knew that if I ever wanted us to be fixed, I had to do it here. I would've had no chance otherwise. This house was kind of our safety bubble. There were no outside influences, no things taking up our time, no friends whispering advice in our ears. No one was in this but us. And Mike and Dominic. But that didn't matter.

I stroked my fingers over the back of Stella's head, her soft locks shining in the early sunlight. She was fast asleep still, puffing out breaths against my collarbone. Her body was bare still, she hadn't put on a shirt anymore after last night. She used it to clean me up and then tossed it in the hamper – quite an impressive shot from her position on the bed.

I had gotten up for just a few minutes, using the downstairs toilet to clean myself a bit since Dominic was still asleep in the upstairs bathroom. By the time I got back into bed, Stella was almost asleep. She was tucked underneath the covers in just her tiny shorts and scooted into my side immediately, sighing out once she felt me with her.

We were tired. Her from the drinking and the many emotions. Me from the orgasm and the many emotions. Seeing her on top of me like that, grinding her hips, shirt off, flirty look on her face... God, it got me off quicker than ever.

"Harry..." I was snapped out of my thoughts when I heard the soft rasp of Stella's morning voice. I hadn't realized she slowly woke up until she shifted her leg between mine, calf rubbing against my shin before she arched her foot around mine and nuzzled her nose into my shoulder, "Hey."

I smiled as I hugged her into my chest, so overcome with butterflies and tingles all over that I could cry from how happy I felt.

"Hi, baby." I murmured back, brushing my lips over her forehead.

"I still want to." She cut to the chase immediately, bringing her hand up to stroke my cheekbone. Her head lifted slightly as she peered up into my eyes, "Please."

My heart hammered harshly at what she was asking for. Sex. I knew I had promised we'd do it if she still wanted to today. I couldn't last night, I simply couldn't. Not when she was that drunk, not when I wasn't a hundred percent convinced that she was making conscious decisions.

"Yeah?" I asked with a dry throat.

Stella pecked my jaw, "Yes. I'm sure."

I exhaled a shaky breath, trying to collect myself as Stella's lips brushed over my skin, "Do you still want to?" She softly asked.