The girl behind the bucket list (1D Fanfic)

Dance with me

Isabelle's POV.

   I was at the bar talking to berman while he served me my usual sour vodka when Harry came walking through the door. His lips turned into an immediate smirk, unearasable. His hair was certainly unbrushed, clothes unneat, shoes untied- as if he had run from home just to come here.

   "Same for me berman," He sits next to me on a barstrool.

    "How was th hospital?" He asks.

     "Sad"

    "Yeah um, hospitals, are um sad," He stutters, "Damn it I'm so stupid"

   I smile, "You're... cute," I speak before drinking. My long sleeve nudges a little high exposing a few wounds so I pull both of them down.

   "Um.." Harry breathes unevenly before taking total control, "Dance with me"

   "No"

   "What if I make you?"

  "You can't" I smirk.

   "Oh common I love this song, Belle!"

   "Fine" I roll my eyes at him when I realize it's some weird ass hip hop song.

    He pulls me into the dance floor and I feel the material of his soft white shirt on my bare back. See, I was wearing this clasped black dress, with soft long sleeves, and the back part, now the back part is the sexy part- It's completley open reliving my whole back in a perfect formed U that sits right above my butt, and its innerline is covered in lace that hold unto my skin as soft rose petals.

    When we rich the dance floor Harry turns me around. Our legs intertwine as my hips sway over his right leg hitting the ede of his hip. His hands run down my back as he clasps our bodies tighter. His lips sleeped in my ear, and he whispered a few lovely thing I couldn't here. He made goofy faces while dancing and I laughed when he did, and he kept whispering things unto my ears, and we danced the whole night, and he clasped our bodies tighter each time, and it felt a little more right every time.

    ***

    "Take me home," I whisper when his hands lay on my waist.

    "Yes m'am," He smirks and looks deep into my eyes, his green orbs eating my soul alive, "But I really wanna do this one thing before we go" He speaks low and seductive, a little husky too.

  "And what is that?" I smile.

   And so his smirk kinda turns into a frown, and his eyes become a little full in warmth and mystery, and his hands run from my waist up to my neck, and he tilts my head a bit with one hand as he runs a finger through my lips with his other hand. And he placed our nose together, and his warm breath fanned my hair, and his lips graced mine,

   "Kiss you," He mutters, "That's what I wanna do," He speaks with his lips touching mine with every word. I could feel the words on my lips, I could've made them out even if I wouldn't have heard them.

  "Then do i-" And he didn't let me finish, He kissed me.

  He kissed me.

  And we kissed.

  And I loved it.

  He tasted off vodka and sweet cherries, and his sweaty curls tickled my forehead, his hands cupping my face, his thumbs rubbing in circles. His chest rising and falling, same as mine. 

  And we kissed.

  A little more passionate.

  And a little more.

  And his lips were soft as they locked mine. I held his face closer to mine, and I could feel how he hasn't recently shaved around his jaw and chin, and I loved that. And I loved how he gasped for air every few minutes like if I were too much to handle. And for the first time ever I felt important, and for the first time ever I felt worth something and important. Or maybe I didn't feel that, Maybe I just forgot about all that perfection shit.

   

  "God damn it, I love you," He snarls after bitting my lip.

   "Wh-What?"

   "I said I love you" He states, unafraid. His hands cupping my face as his long thumb played with my dry skin.

  "I-"

  "Don't" He interrupts me, "You don't need to say it back. But don't go"

  "No"

  "For fuck sakes let me love you" He whispers touching my lower lip.

  I heave, and I'm afraid, but my lips aren't, they're darring, "Take me home," I whisper, "Touch me"