Only You {h.s}

Chapter Thirteen

Harry's POV

Meredith Elaine Tomlinson.  A name she hates and one I can't get out of my head.  She claims it sounds boring.  I suppose her ordinary is my alluring. 

She enchants me.  Her ethereal beauty is something I can't find in anything else.  But she's just so goddamn sad.  Meredith seems to float rather than walk.  Sometimes I think I might come home to see that she has disappeared altogether.  Nothing scares me more than losing her.

Then, it seems as though for every time she's sad, there is a time when her eyes are the brightest, liveliest thing I've ever seen.  The green in her hazel shines through when I hear her angelic laughter.  Her smile can be so big you would think it's impossible for her to ever be sad.  But these moments are fleeting.

I just don't know how to help her.  When it's just the two of us, the light in her eyes becomes so intoxicating it feels like nobody else exists.  But outside of these moments is when I find that melancholy expression tainting her face.  She never stops being beautiful, but it's a sad beauty.  It breaks my heart to see her that way.

The one thing I want most is to be there for her.  If I could shield her from the world and protect her from anything that could possibly hurt her, I would. 

I don't think I've ever known someone to be as self deprecating as Meredith.  I see it in her face, the way she looks at herself in mirrors.  She doesn't even have to say anything negative about herself for me to know how she feels.

This, no doubt, is the product of the pain she's gone through.  I still don't know what happened to her while I was in New York.  I want her to be comfortable enough with me to tell me herself; I don't want to push it.

So here I am.  Sulking around my office at half 4 on a Thursday afternoon like a lovesick puppy.  This infatuation is starting to seep into every facet of my life.

My mind drifts back to last night.  I heard soft sounds coming through the shared wall of our rooms.  I automatically started thinking she was having a nightmare and so I went to check on her.  Imagine my surprise when I found her moaning in her sleep, moving her hips ever so slightly.

And if I didn't think it could get any hotter, I heard the word Daddy come out of her whimpering little mouth.  Of course she was asleep, and dreams can be crazy, but I was relieved to find there's a chance she has a daddy kink too. 

By that point my cock was painfully hard in my boxers.  I closed my eyes and palmed myself, enjoying her little noises.  After taking way too long to realize how fucking creepy that was, I retreated back to my room. 

I could still hear her muffled noises through the wall as I stroked myself.  I imagined her writhing beneath my touch.  I could practically see her all fucked out, her head tipped back in ecstasy.  God, what I would give to hear her call me Daddy.

After I had my wank, I felt slightly guilty.  But not enough to really make me feel bad.  I decided I needed a cigarette and of course the girl I was just fantasizing about was sitting outside, not wearing any pants.  It's like she wants to kill me.

It was amusing to see her get all flustered when I asked her why she was awake.  But it wasn't as amusing as when she called me a dragon.  She can be so innocent.  I shake my head at the memory.

I hate that she asked me to let her smoke.  Granted, it worked out very well in the end.  But if I ever catch her smoking I swear to God I will take her over my knee right then and there.  I know she's used to doing destructive things, but I will stop her from doing so every chance I get.