Show Me (A Harry Styles Fanfiction)

Chapter Eighteen - Gold Rush

Didn't learn a thing,

But then again, you know what,

You know how to sing. 

- "Gold Rush", Ed Sheeran

....

His beautiful, throaty voice lulled me into a dreamless sleep almost instantly. When I woke up, Harry's arm was still around me. I opened one eye, then the other, and almost had a damn stroke. He was awake, propped on one arm, watching me. 

"Morning, angel." He kissed my head.

"Hi, Harry," I said, that usual thrill in my heart fluttering when he called me "angel".  "Were you watching me sleep?"

He laughed a little. "Yeah. You look cute when you do." He poked my cheek. 

"That's creepy. Like, Edward Cullen creepy."

He blinked twice, cocking his head. "Who?"

I couldn't fight my responding giggle, and sat up a little. I noticed his messy, after-sex hair. I caused that. 

Harry smiled lazily, showing both of his deep, deep dimples. "Thinkin' about last night?" he murmured slowly, intensity burning behind his casual question. 

My belly curled, heat rushing to my face. "Yes," I whispered. 

He stared at me expectantly. "And?"

"And it was perfect," I said softly. 

He smiled widely just then, his eyes crinkling in the corners. "I agree."

I traced his bird tattoo again, and he gave a soft, content sigh. "I...I loved every second of it."

"Once again, I agree. This has been a damn good spring break."

I kissed him, then sat up, looking around the beach house, sighing. "I hate we have to leave today."

When I realized Harry didn't answer, I turned to look at him. He had a goofy smile on his pink lips, his eyes on my chest. 

"You're still naked," he reminded me huskily. "It's nice to see that chest of yours in the light."

I felt my cheeks get blazing hot, and I bit down on my lower lip, jerking the blanket up to my neck. "Jesus, Harry. Is there a filter on that mouth of yours?"

He pretended to think it over. "No-pe." He popped the "p", his pink lips curling. He grinned, swung his long legs over the side of the mattress, and stood. He stretched his arms over his head, and I noticed raised red streaks from his muscled shoulder blades to the small of his back. My nail marks. 

"You have a cute butt, Harry."

Harry bursted out laughing, twisting to examine his behind. "Wow. Thanks." His voice was dripping with sarcasm and humor. 

"Anytime, flat butt," I teased him, retrieving the flannel I'd practically been living in from the floor and quickly wrapping it around myself. He seemed so comfortable, striding around the bedroom completely nude. 

"Harry," I said, blushing and nervously scratching my head. 

He turned. "Yeah."

"Put on some clothes, for the love of god."

"You don't like the fact that I'm naked?" He took a step closer. "Didn't seem to bug you when you were yelling my name."

My jaw dropped, and I flung a pillow at him. "Asshole."

He just chuckled, finally slipping into a pair of clean boxers. "I'm gonna shower now. Stay."

"Woof," I muttered.