Where Your Heart Is (A Harry Styles Fanfiction) #pfcc2k16 #Wattys2016

Chapter Twenty-Five: Strong.

My hands, your hands, tied up like two ships drifting weightless.

*****

"What's wrong?" I ask softly when a low whimper comes out of his mouth and straight to my ear.

We're lying on my bed, resting on our sides. His chest is tightly pressed against my back as our legs are tangled together, making our bodies perfectly aligned and bounded to one another.

His tattooed arm snakes under my neck, stretched before my eyes where I can observe his ink art rather closely, and his other arm is wrapped around me just below my breasts.

"Nothing..." He replies, trying to hide the distress of his voice. But another whine follows his response.

Our hands are knitted together as well as our legs, and the moment I squeeze at his fingers, a third groan travels to my ears.

"Oh, No! Is it you hand?" I let go of him, squirming my way around so I can lie on my other side and face him. "Does it hurt?"

I simper at the sight of him, all rumpled waves of hair crowning his head and streaming down his cheek, emerald eyes glossy with sleepiness and pink lips slightly plumped from all the kissing. His entire face is the depiction of beauty, at least in my book.

His brow is relaxed now, but I can still see those lines that carve into the tender flesh at the bridge of his nose when he does, so I know he was frowning seconds ago.

"Nah!" He breathes out, playing tough and failing adorably. "I'm perfect, love."

I chuckle, untangling my fingers from his and taking my hand to tug his hair behind his ear. His eyelids fall slowly at my touch, eyelashes fluttering as they do. And the vulnerability of his stance right now sends a shiver down my spine and causes my underbelly to tense up.

So far, we have been doing nothing beyond kissing and feeling each other up rather heavily. And as much as we both want to take it a lot further, he seemed to understand my limitations when it came to do something more before I break things up with Andy.

I know that at this point I might as well take it all the way and it wouldn't make any difference, but still. If I'm going to render myself to him in the way I truly want to, I have to make sure that there are no ghosts of any previous relationships hovering around us. Let alone current ones.

"Oh, really?" I tease him, taking his hand back in mine and applying enough pressure to make him cringe. "It seems to me you're in pain, Harry... I totally nailed you, didn't I?"

"Oh, baby..." He sighs in feigned disappointment. "You did everything but."

I laugh at his joke because I know it's exactly that. And a good one, to be honest.

I bury my face on the crook of his neck to stifle the laughter and to hide my suddenly blushed cheeks. Once again, I need to gather the little strength I have to stick by my choice.

"I'll talk to him tomorrow after class, I promise." I speak against his skin and my lips can feel how it reacts to my tingling breath.

"Good." It is all he responds before holding me tight again.

And with a slow movement he turns to lie on his back, gently guiding me to rest my head on his chest. And as it rises and falls with each breath he takes, he rocks me into the deepest, most peaceful state of relaxation.

I fall asleep in his arms, thinking to myself that I would do anything to hold on to him for as long as I can.

And I can only pray I could hold on forever.