Prove It (H.S)

Chapter Fourteen

We lay on my bed together, Harry stroking the top of my head, planting a soft kiss there every so often. I'm wearing only his shirt, it's scent invading my nostrils. He lay beside me, my head resting on his chest. I run my fingers over the bare skin on his stomach, over the butterfly that is ever so perfectly tattooed there. I look up at him and he's already staring at me. His emerald eyes pouring into mine.

"Claire," he brushes my now mostly dried hair behind my ear. "What?" His eyes search mine for a moment before he says,"I think I-," he stops. "Go on," I brush my thumb across his defined jaw bone.

"I think I love you." I stop my fingers in their path, everything seems to pause. Except for those green eyes, looking at me, anxiously. "I," I swallow. "I think I know I love you," and I kiss him yet again. Yes, I love him. I love Harry Styles. You've only known him for what- my subconscious tries to remind me, but I cut her off. It doesn't matter. None of it matters. All I want to think about is him, laying here beside me, telling me he loves me.

He's smiling at me now, his hair has fallen over his forehead, and I brush it up for him. He grabs my hand, and presses my palm to his lips. "Harry?" I ask, as he lowers my hand. "Yes, love?" I play with his rings, like I always do. "I'm flying home to Portland next weekend to see my parents and my grandmother, and well, do you want to come?" This is something I've secretly been wanting to ask him for a few days now, but I never thought the circumstances were right.

"Really?" He asks, a huge dimpled smile showing. "I mean, yeah, only if you want to," I trail off, suddenly unsure if this was a good idea. Harry lifts my chin with his index finger to look at him. "Of course I want to."

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Harry's POV~

By the time I get back to my dorm, it's almost 5:00. Louis is watching some movie with a lot of gun shots and hardly looks up when I walk in. "You've been gone all day. Where've you been?" He finally speaks, his eyes still glued to the screen.

I pull my boots off and throw them at the foot of my bed. "I've been with Claire," I say, taking a seat on my bed. Louis is looking at me now, his thin lips turned up into a smile. "So all is good with you two then?" I nod, feeling a smile grow on my face. I run my finger through my hair.

"Actually, I'm flying out to Oregon next weekend to meet her parents and her beloved grandmother." Louis' eyes widen at my statement and then he gives me a toothy grin. "You don't say! Well, lad, that's great!" I smile at him, nodding. "Yeah, it'll be great, time alone with her, well with her family, away from school, and well, no offense, but away from you and the lads." My friend laughs at this and shakes his head, turning back to the movie.

Claire explained to me that her and her grandmother, Grace, have an extremely close relationship, and that she thinks that I'll love her just as much as she does. I hope that is true, and I don't have a doubt that it is, but I can't help but feel a little jealous. Ever since Claire and I became official, I've wanted all of her attention, all day everyday.

Although I admire her relationship with her grandmother, I do hope I won't be pushed away. "Liam, Zayn, Niall and I were gonna go play some football later, wanna come?" Louis asks, breaking me from my thoughts. I nod, then remembering the situation with Aubrey. "Yeah, I kinda wanna talk to Zayn about the Aubrey thing."

Louis pauses the movie, turning his whole body towards me. "Harry, my boy, I don't know if that's your place," he says, scratching his head. I crinkle my eyebrows in confusion and Louis sighs. "If you go and tell one of your best friends that his girlfriend fancies you, chances are things won't end well." I think about what he's saying, and although he's probably right, I feel a need to talk to him, for Claire's sake.

"I'll think about it, Lou," I tell him, causing him to roll his eyes and play the movie. I take out my philosophy notes and flip to the most recent page. In the left hand corner, at the bottom are small words written in red ink. Claire. She always writes her notes in red ink. "You're cuter than Democritus" with a smiley face with its tongue sticking out. I laugh out loud at her silly gesture, causing Louis to raise an eyebrow at me.

"What?" He asks and I shake my head.
"What is it?" He pushes and I quiet my laughter. "Just Claire," I say, smiling.