The Magic Within You

December 9th

Waking up next to Harry is a sort of visual poetry. In the soft white-gold light of the new day, alone the sight of his sleeping angel let the bedroom move from impressionist pastels to brilliant pop art. Louis is on fire, all is bright just because he can watch this man next to him. With Harry, waking up is suddenly so easy to do.

This is what he's been dreaming about for the past few days. Harry is still asleep in his arms, his light breath fanning over Louis' bare chest, a warm body pressed close to his - just like they fell asleep yesterday. He carefully stretches out his hand, runs his finger slowly and almost not touching over the bridge of his nose. Harry's eyelids flutter and Louis is afraid he's woken him up, but after a little nose scrunch his breathing continues to come in calm gasps. Where Louis has rested his finger, he continues over the small hollow under his nose and gently further over the full lips. Completely absorbed in the sight, he jumps in shock when Harry's lips suddenly purses and pressing a small kiss to the tip of his finger.

"Good morning," Harry rasps, never opening his eyes.

Oh my fucking god. His morning voice is so erotic that I might have a problem really soon.

"A wonderful good morning," Louis whispers back so as not to ruin the magic of their first morning together that lies over them.

Harry lifts his head slightly, nuzzles it further into Louis' neck, rubs his nose along Louis' skin and he can't help but wrap his arms even tighter around him.

Harry's fingertips also come to life, gently finding their way across Louis' chest and stroking along his collarbone.

I get dizzy from the way you touch me. Just want you close like this all the time - you look so pretty.

Louis presses his nose into the wild curls, taking in more of Harry with every breath, intoxicated by the scent, the closeness, his feelings for him. This is exactly how it should be, Louis was made to hold Harry like this.

"You know what, starlight?" Louis breathes.

"Hm?" Harry murmurs tiredly in response and presses a light kiss directly to his pulse point, his pulse probably racing just because Louis is so happy at this moment.

"You belong with me."

"I really need you to kiss me right now," is Harry's only reply.

Louis obeys the request immediately, puts his hand on Harry's face, feels the light stubble of his beard and gently guides it towards him. He first breathes feather-light kisses on the corner of Harry's mouth, whose lips twists into a smile while he still keeps his eyes closed. Then to the other side of his mouth but then he finally presses a loving kiss to the soft pillows that are Harry's lips. Louis literally falls into them, sinks in there and floats as if on clouds.

Only you ever made me feel this way. You alone, my angel.

Harry lets the most beautiful sounds slip from his lips, makes Louis addicted to more, he wants to be the one to elicit that from Harry for the rest of his life.

"Still so tired," Harry finally murmurs into the kiss and Louis can't help but smile, completely whipped.

He guides Harry's head back onto his chest, keeping one hand securely on the back of his head and holding his person close.

"Sleep a little bit longer," he finally whispers. "I'll make us something for breakfast."

"Nooo, stay with me," Harry wails.

Louis twirls a curl around his finger and places a kiss on Harry's forehead. "We can cuddle all day. But now let me spoil you."

Sure, Tomlinson. What are you thinking? Is your brain completely gone? Since when did you think that your cooking skills could please anyone? Stop it, it's just the lovestruck part of your brain making you believe that. Abortion! Immediate abortion!