THE CURB (MATURE HARRY STYLES AU) #WATTYS2016

CHAPTER EIGHTY-FIVE

LOOK AT THE PICTURE ON THE TOP. AAAH GET ME ZAYYYYN.

Harry gives her no time to speak, leaning in for a kiss every two seconds. Their breathing is laboured, their lips are sore after all the biting and sucking but Harry's still not satisfied. The emptiness is still there in his chest, the burn determined not to fade away and Harry's unsure of what to do. How to get rid of whatever he's feeling.

"Harry." She gasps, gripping onto his shoulders tightly as he dives in to capture her lips once again. Her eyelids are shut and she's breathing hard, head resting against the wall and fingernails digging into his shoulder blades.

Harry does not dare to blink even once, eyes fixed on her face, trying to memorize even the smallest detail, feeling like it might be the last time he would see her this close to him.

A small whimper escapes her lips and he roughly brings her body closer to his, trying to eliminate even the slightest distance between them. He needs to be close to her, as close as he can possibly be. Feels like it is be the only way to make him feel less miserable.

"Please." Harry desperately whispers against her forehead, his arms trembling where they are around her waist. "Help me."

He doesn't see how she reacts to his words, but he feels her hands sliding up from his shoulder to cup his cheeks. Her thumbs gently caressing his cheekbones and then he feels a pair of lips pressing against his forehead. Once, twice, thrice.

"Come." She whispers against her lips before moving away and Harry lets out a shaky breath, letting go of his hold on his waist as she takes his hand in her own, squeezing it reassuringly before leading the way.

No words are spoken between the two as they reach the bedroom. Not even once they look into each other's eyes as Harry's lead to the bed and his shoes are gently taken off.

Harry eyes her carefully as her slightly trembling hands starts to unbutton his shirt, one button after another before finally taking it off, leaving Harry just in his pants.

Harry senses her nervousness as her fingers reach the button of his pants, with a little hesitancy she pops it open. A breath escaping her lips as she undo the zipper. All the while, her eyes glancing elsewhere, not even once looking up into the pools of green.

Harry rises from the bed a little, helping her to slides the pants down his hips and then his legs and then Harry sits there, just in the pair of white boxers.

Harry's eyes follow her as she stands up from the floor, taking Harry's clothes with her but before she could move a step away, Harry takes a hold of her arm, causing her to finally look up at him.

"Don't leave me." He whispers, tightening her hold more, his eyebrows furrowing at the thought of her being away.

He watches as the corners of her lips turn upwards and she shakes her head, leaning down to kiss Harry's cheek.

"Not going anywhere, love. Not leaving." She tells him gently but Harry still doesn't let go, looking up at her with glassy eyes, silently conveying his request this time.

"I'll just wanted to get you some food and water. Aren't you starving?" She questions her, her tone soft as if she's talking to a five year old boy.

"Not hungry." Harry tells her, shaking his head before shivering, "Just cold."

Harry tells her, feeling his eyes welling up with tears all of the sudden, the reason behind unknown to him. He tries to figure out why he's feeling this way but the alcohol that he's consumed isn't helping him remember shit.

"You're okay, Harry." She whispers, wrapping her arms around his neck causing Harry to react quickly, as he wraps his arms around her tightly, bringing her into his lap and burying his head in the crook of her neck, letting out a small sob.