in the ring / harry styles

32- Love

Harry lay beside me, his breathing deep and steady, his back to me. I watched him for a moment, letting the quietness settle, until my gaze drifted to the scar he had shown me—the jagged, pale mark that cut across his skin, a reminder of his past.  

Carefully, I reached out, my fingertips grazing over the rough skin, light as a whisper.

Harry flinched, his shoulders tightening. "Don't," he said quietly, his voice low and rough. "It's...it's not something you need to see. It's—" he hesitated, as though searching for the words, "ugly."

The word struck me, heavy and unexpected, and I felt a surge of something protective, fierce, pushing back against the pain I could hear in his voice. Gently, I leaned in and pressed my lips against the scar, letting my kiss linger there. I wanted him to feel every unspoken thought I couldn't seem to find the words for, every promise I'd been too afraid to make.

"Harry," I whispered against his skin, my voice trembling with emotion I couldn't hide. "It's part of you, part of what makes you...you. And I love it. I love everything about you."

He stayed still, frozen, as if he hadn't expected to hear those words, like they were something he'd stopped letting himself hope for. Slowly, he turned to look at me, his green eyes now dark and vulnerable, filled with a mix of disbelief and something else I couldn't quite name. His gaze searched mine, as though trying to make sense of what I'd just said, of what it meant.

The silence between us felt electric, charged with something words couldn't capture, something we were only just beginning to understand. His hand reached up to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing along my jawline in a touch so tender it made my heart ache. His touch grounded me, made everything else slip away until it was just us, here, in this quiet, fragile space.

"You're mine," he says, his voice a low promise, raw and unfiltered.

The single word sent a wave of warmth through me, and the last of the distance between us dissolved. I leaned into his hand, feeling the heat of his palm against my skin, the strength in his touch that made me feel safe, seen. 

My heart raced, each beat syncing with his, pulling me closer until nothing else existed but him. His breath mingled with mine, steady, carrying with it the weight of every unspoken word, every quiet assurance that had built between us.

Harry lowered his head, his lips brushing softly against mine, hesitant at first, as though he were testing the waters, but I felt it—the pull between us, deep and unyielding, like something we'd been waiting to find all along. He kissed me deeper, his hand slipping to the back of my neck, pulling me to him, and I felt the quiet intensity of everything he couldn't say, everything he had buried, finally reaching the surface. 

When he pulled back, his gaze held mine, his eyes dark and serious, filled with an emotion I hadn't seen before, something that reached into me, settling in a place I hadn't known was empty. 

"I love you, Lucy," he said softly, his voice steady, and I could feel the truth of it in every word, like he was saying it for the first time in his life, like he'd never said it to anyone else. His fingers brushed against my cheek, his gaze never leaving mine, and for a moment, we stayed like that, caught in a quiet honesty that felt more real than anything I'd known.

A soft smile tugged at my lips as I felt a warmth bloom in my chest, filling every corner of me. "I love you too, Harry," I whispered, the words spilling out as if they'd been waiting there all along, something I hadn't let myself say until now, something I hadn't even realized I'd been holding back.

With those words, the space between us seemed to settle, filling with a warmth that didn't need explanation or promises. His hand still held me close, his touch gentle, reverent, as if he couldn't quite believe I was real. 

"Do you want to?" He asks, and I nod. He lowers his head to kiss me again, slower this time, the weight of his presence, his love, wrapped around me like a steady, unbreakable force.

"Just...make sure," I say softly, glancing toward the nightstand. His eyes followed mine, and with a quiet nod, he reached over, opening the drawer and grabbing a condom.