Fight Club (h.s.)

Part 22

Fluttering my eyes open, I find myself smiling at the feeling running through me. Yes, I'm incredibly sore, but I feel on top of the world. I wouldn't want to feel any other way than I do right now.

Rolling over, I'm met with a card with my name written upon it. After situating the sheets to cover my chest, I grab the card and open it, Harry's hand-writing written over the inside.

Good morning, my beautiful. Just went to get some breakfast for the two of us. Be back shortly.

I smile, closing my eyes and rolling back. My heart is pounding and I can't help but love the way I feel. After laying for a little longer, I grab my robe from the suitcase and tie it to my body. My feet walk against the floor and I notice Harry standing at the end of the pier. A few bags are on the table and I walk outside, the door shutting behind me.

Abruptly, Harry turns and his feet work to walk towards me. He jumps off the pier and wraps his arms around my waist, my arms wrapping around his neck.

"How are you?" he asks, holding onto my sides tightly.

"Good. Sore, but good," I assure, his head lifting to kiss my cheek. He smiles down at me and rubs our noses together, making me laugh at the action.

He leads me back into the house and takes my hand, having me sit at the table. As he passes me, I get a defined smell and I scrunch my nose up.

"Have you smoked?" I ask, his head turning to meet mine.

"Yes. Only one," he says, my eyes looking away. It still bothers me he's putting toxins into his body.

"Why?"

He sighs, my worry only because I don't know what else to do.

"I don't know. It's a habit," he explains, moving a to-go container in front of him. He places the pancakes on a plate and hands me a plate for myself.

"Do you think it could stop?" I wonder, not expecting him to change.

"If you don't like it, I will. I'll end it," he whispers, placing a pancake on my plate for me.

"Thanks," I mutter, surprised he's willing to change for me.

He sits down next to me and looks at me, his lips curving as he chews.

"You know," he says, swallowing. "They look good on you."

"What do?" I rush, worried I have something on me.

"These," he whispers, touching my neck. A slight ache is felt and I quickly rush to the mirror in the main hall, gasping at the sight. He's placed love-bites all down the left side of my neck, my shoulder containing them as well.

"Oh my," I whisper, not knowing how I should respond to such a mark.

"If you think it's meant to hurt, you're wrong. It's just a more...passionate kiss, so to say," he explains, tugging my hand once back in the kitchen.

"They look like bruises," I revel, his lips curving.

"Bruises from kisses. It's as though you hadn't noticed because I was making you experience too much last night. We had quite the night, I'd say," he smiles, kissing my cheek after I'm brought into his lap.

"One I never want to forget," he tells me, kissing me after. My lips continue to move with his syrup-flavored lips, my hand coming to hold his neck.

"Was it okay? Everything was good for you?" he asks, breaking our kiss just to ensure I'm alright.

"Yes, everything was perfect. Better than I could have ever imagined," I smile, his lips pressing to mine again.

The rest of our time at the cabin was swimming together, campfires, and taking showers. We had only made love the one night, but we were constantly intimately feeling each other. It was when we came home that Harry asked to have one last night with him before we both had school and work.