Gentle kisses, almost as tender as a dove's feathers, caress the curve of my neck as nimble fingers skillfully glide along the contours and ridges of my frame, awakening my once torpid senses.
"Harry, wake up... Up you go, Hazza, darling. Let me see those gorgeous eyes of yours, love. Up you go, baby boy. Come on now..." I faintly hear a voice whispering into my ear, causing my eyes to idly blink in hopes of adjusting to the room's brightness peeking through the black-out curtains.
"Oh, why hello, bunny? Aren't you just a sight for sore eyes?" Louis coos once again evidently stirring me from my slumber due to the flames erupting on my cheeks as a result of his teasing remark.
His chuckle in response to my obvious coyness prompts me to burrow my face into his chest, but not before noting his sleepy, rumpled appearance and pillowy lips that I desperately want to feel on mine.
How is it that he looks this good by simply just laying in bed with me? How is it that seeing him with bedhead makes him one hundred percent more attractive, evoking that carnal desire from yesterday in me once again?
"...Harry, love, aren't you planning on answering? Or are you still mad at me for disrupting your beauty sleep?" Louis further gests with a chuckle, brushing the stray curls from my eyes and tracing the outline of my features.
Sighing in happiness I allow myself to bask in his presence for a second longer before apologising and embarrassingly admitting that I didn't even hear his previous question, hence my lack of response.
Usually, I'd feel poorly over something as trivial as this — not wanting the other person to feel as though I don't care about what they have to say — however I feel no such thing due to the fond gaze Louis places upon me as he repeats his question once more with his fingers curling in my hair and clutching around my clothes.
"All I asked was if you slept alright, baby," he responds, causing me to hum noncommittally in response and pucker my lips for a kiss, which he gladly bestows upon me. Morning breath, be damned.
With a crusade of little winged fighters now in my tummy, threatening to break free and consume us both with their fluttering joy, earnestly wanting to know whether they have companions in his stomach as well, I find myself replying, "Probably the best I've slept in my life, actually."
At that moment, I can't seem to care about the headache or the soreness in my eyes, since his blinding smile is enough salve to last me through any abrasion.
I then ask, "What time is it, though?" with my voice coming out gravelly due to lack of use, leading to my cheeks heating in embarrassment as he snickers while I hastily clear my throat.
Rolling my eyes in retaliation, I jokingly shove him off of me, leading to his hands finding their way to my waist and lightly assaulting them, causing soft giggles to escape my parted lips as he flips us over and pins me to the bed while planting a chaste kiss on my lips.
He then says, "I wouldn't do that if I were you, love, and it's almost ten..." while winking at me, causing me to swat his now-bare chest due to the suggestive glint in his eye while noting that he chose to ditch the shirt at some point last night.
I would be lying if I said my body didn't react to the position we are now in—him half naked hovering over me while pinning my hands above my head and practically panting into my parted mouth.
Nevertheless, after a minute or so passes with us just staring into the other's eye, he continues his previous statement, completely normal like the menace he is, by saying, "I would have left you to sleep in more, but since Gemma is leaving tomorrow at noon, I figured you'd probably want to get in as much time with her as possible, hence why I disrupted your rest. Although I have to admit keeping you in bed with me for the entire day now is just oh so tempting..." while leaning down to connect our lips once more but to be interrupted by the banging of a door in the distance and screeching indicating the rest of the house (Sophie and the girls) are now awake also.
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Insatiably You | l.s.
RomanceCURRENTLY ON EDITING HIATUS. (Will not be abandoned...next chapter is already 3/4 written). How was Harry expected not to look when every instinct of his being was begging him to capture Louis' pure personification of beauty to his canvas? How could...