On Tour [HS]

Eight

Love On Tou

"Can I kiss you?"

Laughter escapes my lips as Harry takes me by surprise, trapping me with my back to the sink with his hands gripped tightly on the surface either side of me. He's found a small moment where both my children happen to be in the other room to venture into the kitchen in the hopes of getting a minute alone with me.

My hands fall softly to his chest, stabilising myself while staring up into his gentle eyes. "You're so desperate, H."

Instead of denying his desperation, he simply nods his head in agreement. A date yesterday clearly hasn't held him over for long, ever since he's been close almost like we're tied by an invisible string. I don't mind, his closeness it's comforting.

Warmth radiates from his body onto mine as he leans even closer in the hopes of stealing a kiss, I lean back to tease him, smiling to myself as a whine ripples up his throat in utter desperation. His brows are dropped softly into a crease, eyes shut while he nudges his nose softly at my jaw, murmuring. "Please..."

My eyes feather shut, exhaling a soft breath while my hands slide down his chest to fist the material of his shirt that covers his sharp hips. The feeling of his lips pressing the lightest of kisses to my exposed shoulder before grazing them up to my neck until he pauses on my jaw.

I cling to his clothes hard as he kisses the hinge of my jaw, turning to putty under his spell and our roles switch instantly. Begging for him now, "Harry... please kiss me." I need him to put me out of my misery, to press his lips against mine and melt me into his embrace.

There's zero hesitation with his actions, dragging his lips to mine where he kisses me softly - teasingly like he wants to make me plead for him.

My adoration for him hasn't ceased, the feelings I've had since a teenager seemingly never left, I'd just learnt to ignore them once he'd moved away. There was no reason to feel that strongly towards him when I couldn't act upon my cravings any longer, I had to deal with the fix I was given and hoping it would last until he returned.

However, ten years is a long time and I feel the urge to make up for all the lost time because I'm sure the past decade would've been spent with him.

I still have a lot to discuss with him, things I need to say into the air to relieve the weight crushing my chest but I don't want him to view me differently. Things that either keep me up at night unable to shut my mind up or expel from my body in the form of tears until I'm too exhausted to stay awake.

He's trying desperately to express his thoughts through his lips as they mould with mine, pushing emotion into the kiss in the hopes I can reciprocate and understand. I do. I can feel what he's trying to say, words we're not wanting to admit just yet. This is all so fresh, we can't destroy what we don't yet have.