10 Hours (HS)

12:11 am

Harry's POV

"It still blows my mind, for all of us actually. It's just not something you ever get used to." I say.

There's not been any sounds from outside the vault walls in a while. I'm not sure if that's good or bad. The only sounds we could hear were the gun shots, so I'm choosing to take it as a positive sign.

No gunshots. That has to be a good thing.

"It's been almost five years since you all started this. How can it still amaze you? By now all of this should be normal." Liv says.

We're laying on the floor, her head's on my chest and my arm's around her. She asked me what it feels like to be on stage, and I'm really trying to stick to my own advice and slow down ...but her hair smells so good, and her body's warm against mine.

Calm your shit.

"It just does." I say. Her hand is on my stomach, which doesn't help my focus. "Normal is NOT how I'd describe it. Hearing thousands of fans sing every word to your songs. That's beyond amazing, Livvie. It's the ultimate compliment."

"The fans, Directioners, we support you all and love you guys. You've really helped so many, you know? Your kindness, sweet encouraging words, the respect you show for women, the importance of family, not giving up on your goals or dreams, all of that inspires people. It's SAVED people, Harry. LITERALLY saved poor unhappy girls, guys too, from doing horrible things to themselves, kept them from giving up. You should know that." She says, smiling, but serious.

"I do, WE do. We see their tweets. Believe it or not, we really do read a great deal of them. They inspire us too you know. Without them, we'd be nothing. The fans aren't just fans because of the music, they care about us, and we care about them to." The signs they bring to our concerts, course there's the usual 'I Love Harry', 'Future Mrs. Tomlinson', or 'Liam Marry Me', but some of the fans go the extra mile and say, 'Harry Tell Gemma I Think She's Beautiful', 'We Love Anne and Des', or 'Congratulations On Theo Uncle Niall'. Then there's the funny ones that catch our attention and make us smile. We even talk about the ones we've seen after the shows. One fan in Columbus, Ohio, and I only remember this because it was literally just a few weeks ago when we played at The Horse Shoe. It said, 'Birds Don't Have Eyebrows'. How odd and hilarious is that?!" I put my hand over hers, lacing our fingers together.

"That is funny."

It's so damn easy to talk to this girl. To really open up and share in ways I've never done before with people.

"Seeing a tweet that one of us will put out there, get shared forty thousand times, within SECONDS, or when we go out somewhere everyone goes, to get lunch with friends, or to get a coffee, and we're spotted. There's fifteen pictures instantly on Twitter or Instagram, all the same, just from different angles. The girls always want a picture or a hug, which we usually are happy to take the time to give them. Uh, that didn't happen to me when I left my house to go work at the bakery. I wasn't noticed AT ALL. These are things that happen to us almost daily now, but they're anything but normal."

She's quiet, not saying anything.

"What are you thinking?" I ask.

"Just trying to put myself in your shoes. You don't have much of a private life, do you?" She says.

"It happens, but it's planned. I can't just spontaneously decide to go do something, like other people do. I can still do things but to some degree it's always complicated. It's gotten easier though. I've figured out how to manage my time, my outings, so that I can enjoy it, but still give part of myself to my fans. You never want to shut them out, and I wouldn't. They're the best group of people I've ever known. They're what made us."

She lifts up on her elbow, looking at me. "You said that in your book, something like that."

"It's true."

Her eyes are so blue.

"No, all of you being supremely talented, hardworking boys, that's what made you." She says.

I smile at her. She probably thinks it's because she just complimented me, but fuck, it's really because she's so damn beautiful. Her hair falls forward and she smiles back at me. My sweater is enormous, but it looks good on her. I already know I'm not getting that back.

She moves over me, sitting on her knees, straddling me.

OK, remain calm. She's still talking to you, nothing heavy going down.

I clear my throat and put my hands on her thighs. "We do work hard and we don't take our success for granted. We know this could all be over someday, and we work hard to give our best."

She pulls her hair up with her hands, flipping it all to one side.

I continue my thought, but my eyes are taking in every movement she makes. "Whether it's at the live shows, the song writing process, or the one on one moments with the fans. But the fans....they're faithful, standing behind us always, whether we make a poor fashion choice that day, have a less than perfect performance, or are literally sick and pulled over on the side of the road throwing up."

"I remember when you did that. You're right, pictures of it from all angles." She says, smiling.

"Yeah, nice right?"

"Well, you still looked fantastic."

So do you.

"You might be a little obsessed with me." I say, laughing.

"MIGHT? Only in the best way, Baby." She winks at me and honestly, I think my heart just skipped a beat.

Pathetic. Embarrassing, really.

She pushes my T-shirt up, then stops. "Is this OK? I just wanna see your tattoos." She says.

"Totally fine." I say this, but realize if she touches me, I might not be able to control what happens next.

"No actually...I'm just glad you didn't turn out to be a total asshole. That would've CRUSHED me, Harry! Thinking you were this sweet, delicious guy, and then finding out you were this cocky dickhead."

"And now?" I gently squeeze her thighs, sliding my fingers up to her hips slowly. "What do you think of me?" I ask her, as she runs her fingers over my stomach, tracing the leaves of my tattoo.

I can't help myself. As soon as she climbed on top of me, everything in me switched gears, and when her fingers touched my skin, I lost all control.

She stops tracing, looking at me seriously. "Harry....you wanted to slow down. That was YOUR idea." She says, softly, biting her lip.

"I know. I did...still think we probably should, but I'm having a rough time here, Love." My voice cracks, dropping low.

Don't.

We've been talking for almost three hours. I know more about her then most of the people I know outside the band. She's got me spinning, more now then before, and I can't go back to that....that just friendly bank vault hostages.

Just keep talking.

No control. Out of my hands. She says yes, I'm on her.

She's watching me. Her fingers moving up, as she lays down against my chest.

"I think...I can't stop thinking about you. Sure we've been talking, and for the most part I've stayed focused, but...."

I bring my hands up, one hand pushing up under her shirts onto her back. She sucks in her breath.

"But? I don't want to talk right now, Liv. We have this time, and I want..."

"...your mouth on me again...that's what I want, Harry."

I bring my other hand up behind her neck, pull my knee up and roll her over onto her back.

She smiles.

That's a go.