walls | h.s

forty-five.

I got up from the couch and walked towards Harry. His eyes were fixed on me and he wasn't just stressed, there was something else in his eyes but I couldn't quite put my hands on what it was. Was it anger, fear, fatigue?

His arms wrapped around me, holding me tight against his chest. He held me as if he was scared to let go, as if he thought I would run away and leave him alone. My cheek was pressed against his chest as he held me and I broke the silence after a few minutes of just standing there and holding each other.

I pulled away slightly so I could see his face but I kept my arms around his torso and he kept mine around me. "What's wrong?" I asked in a soft tone, almost a whisper.

"You know how much I care about you, right? You know that I would do anything for you and always protect you?" He moved one hand to my face and cupped my cheek, running his thumb slowly over it.

I nodded my head slowly, looking deeply into his eyes. "Of course I do." I said.

"God," he breathed. "I care about you so much."

And with that, he kissed me passionately.

I was the first one to pull away because I needed to catch my breath. "Did anything happen at Stan's that makes you so... so affectionate?" I asked.

He pursed his lips and was silent for what felt like minutes but probably only was a few seconds.

"No," he said. "Nothing happened."

"I went to Cassidy's today." I told him as he took my hand and headed for the couch.

"How was it?" he sat down and so did I.

"It was pretty fun, we had a lot to gossip around and she told me that Andrew has a small dick." I casually said.

He looked at me with a blank expression for a few seconds before he broke out laughing, throwing his head back and holding his stomach. There were crinkles by his eyes and the beautiful noise of his laugh echoed through the living room. I just looked at him with an admiring smile. Moments like these made me realise how much I actually love him.

He calmed down after a while, taking a deep breath to contain his laughter. However, the smile was still on his face and it made me happy to see him like this, to see him being happy instead of stressed.

"It doesn't surprise me that he has a small dick, he seems like the person who would have one."

"What did you and Stan do?"

"Not much, we just talked about some important things, nothing you should be concerned about."

He grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. How I met your mother was on and he leaned back, his eyes fixed on the screen. I wasn't watching TV, I was watching him.

"You're staring," he chuckled, his eyes still on the TV.

"Don't act like you don't like the attention." I joked and finally, he turned his head to look at me, smirk evident on his face.

"It's not polite to stare."

I rolled my eyes. "Shut up," He looked at me with amusement, his smirk turning into a soft smile.

I leaned over and pressed my lips again, kissing him. He placed his hands on the back of my thighs and with one swift motion I was on his lap, straddling him. I ran my hands up and down his chest slowly as our lips worked together and I felt the sudden need to be closer to him.

I pulled away and looked into his eyes. I bit down on my lip as an overwhelming feeling of emotions rushed through me. I wanted to say it –I had to say it. I knew I was in love with him and what's the point of me keeping it a secret? I didn't know if he felt the same way, and I didn't care. He might not be in love with me, but I definitely am in love with him and I wanted him to know.