Serenity [h.s]

Inevitably with you

How many nights does it take to count the stars? That's how many it takes to fix my heart.

Maybe it was all bound to happen at some point. Maybe I was going to meet you even after that, maybe I would've fallen more in love with you then, than I am now. It's all a twist in reality really.

Summer Lowal

Dinner was quiet that night, my bare thighs brushed lightly against Harry's as we sat and ate the food his mom insisted on making from our long trip back. I was tired as hell, and I knew Harry was too as well, but he was too sweet to say no to his mother. His family was incredibly nice, really. I knew where Harry had gotten his gentle genes from.

"Honestly, Harry at least let her talk, she has her own mouth," Gemma says while giggling softly, feeding her daughter carefully. I look at Harry who's mouth is turned into a faint smirk, chewing softly. His hand grips my thigh gently and grazes the skin tenderly. I gulp down my sigh and muster up a smile, looking back at Gemma.

"Er, it just sorta happened, I suppose. I always loved the way art could show you what a human feels inside, it's kind of like writing you could say," she nods slowly.

"Harry tells me you painted a portrait of him, yes?" I nodded, smiling softly as I place my hand out of instinct over his hand that settles in my thigh.

"Yeah, I did. I don't presume he showed you," she grins.

"No, but I'd love to see it," she cheerfully states.

I nod rapidly. Harry cuts in timidly. "I have it hanging in my living room back at my home,"

"Self centered," I sarcastically muttered with a roll of my eyes. He only sends me a goofy grin and my heart leaps in my chest because in that particular moment, I ached to say I love you, but the timing was wrong and I'd wait.

Anne, Harry's mother cuts in, her smile ever so wide, chewing slowly as she speaks. "I can't get over how he found someone as amazing as you, he got lucky this time," she gushes softly, sighing at the end of her sentence. I only blush while shaking my head.

"No-"

"You're most certainly right, mum." Harry turns to me, stroking my flesh with his thumb softly. My stomach flutters at his stare. "I did get lucky."

The night went by quickly, and we both found ourselves laying in the soft comforter of Harry's old bed. His room was just as elegant as his own back at his place, it had a calm sense to it oddly. All the choices of colors he'd choose were satisfying.

Harry lay beside me as I sat criss cross in front of him, my shorts riding up and my tank top barely doing it's job at covering my breasts. I smirked the whole time as I held the sketching pad in my hands, the pencil gliding carefully as I worked on Harry's facial features, scrunching my nose as I got to his eyes.

I huff slightly as I watched them glimmer under the dim light, fidgeting in my position as he kept observing me.

"Damn eyes," I mutter quietly. I hear him chuckle under his breath, his hand on my thigh, squeezing lightly, his skin burning my own. The flutters in my stomach were something I'd still need to get used to be because I'd never really felt this way towards anyone.

Love is sort of strange.. you don't know really what love is until you're admiring the way they look in regular clothes, less tense and purely free. You don't know what love is until you watch the way their smile forms remarkably across their lips, glowing. You don't really know what love is until you listen to how they laugh, the sound the only thing you can hear in a crowd full of people.
Most of all, you don't know what love is, until you discover the way their souls unmask in front of you, showing their true colors, allowing to free themselves to you. That is love.

"You look care free right now," I sarcastically laugh while blowing air out of my mouth.

"My ass, I'm under a shit load of stress, your eyes are complicated, Harold,"

He scoffs. "Says the one who's eyes are the color of the sea; I get lost in those orbs," my breath hitches and I stopped sketching, scared to look at him.

No one, in the lifetime I'd known, has ever said that.

"Don't start your charm, Styles," I retort, with blushed cheeks.

"You love it though," I look at him through my lashes, biting my lip. His plush lips were turned upwards, a coy smile on them, his eyes fixated directly on my own, jawline perfected in the sharpest way.

"You're oddly too full of yourself, my love," I look back down and confine the sketch, satisfied with it, putting down my pencil and running my fingers over the drawn on lines, the lead marking on my skin. I sigh happily, looking at Harry and showing him the drawing, watching his features slowly turn from amused to in awe. I blush as his jaw slightly hangs, eyes gazing up at me.

"Baby girl, this is beautiful," I chuckle, my heart fluttering behind its cage from the little nickname, letting the pad rest in his hold.

He examines it once more before settling it down on the bed, taking me by my hips and allowing me to straddle his lap, my hands on his chest, his own roaming up and down my waist, pulling me down as our noses touch and lips brush intensively.

"I love you, darling," he whispers. My stomach flips and I flutter my eyes closed; the three words just on the tip of my tongue, but terrified to pronounce them. I only let a shuddered breath leave past my lips, Harry's nose nudging mine. His hands cup my face gently, his thumb grazing the skin of my jaw carefully; humming softly.

"Love, I know you're scared to say it back, I do, but I know you feel it, too." My hand goes to his neck, and I keep my eyes shut, not having the guts to open them, to see the love in his eyes. I don't deserve his love. I don't, but I'm still selfish enough to take it.
"You... how do you love me?" I question quietly, our lips still centimeters away from each other. He only sighs, pecking my lips softly, tongue grazing my bottom lip, pulling away the slightest.

"That is a very tricky question, nevertheless, I'll answer you," he sits up slowly, taking my body with his, both of us melting into one another. His chest is hard against my cheek, his heartbeat slow, and in rhythm with my own. I sigh in comfort, my hands finding his and allowing our fingers to thread slowly. He lets out a breath, kissing the top of my head, a burning sensation left behind.

"Summer... I don't know the particular reason why I'm in love with you, it just.. happened," I let him continue, patiently.

"You're stubborn, I instantly liked that about you, fuck was I triggered, and you always denied me. You denied me although I knew - no, I felt it in my bones that you wanted me as much as I did," he pauses a second, and I squeeze his hand, reassuring him.

"Erm, oddly, I felt like I was myself when I was around you, I barely knew you, but I still wanted to be in your life, I just felt the urge to always be with you, to protect you, to keep you safe, I-I I don't know Summer, it's all mush in my brain, but-but in my heart it's simple, yet complicated at the same time, and I just God, I-"

"Harry, I love you."

---

Fuck man I hate school I wanna stay home and write. Hmfchid how'd y'all think of the ending? Thoughts?

All the love x

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