Taken

Chapter 8

I pray as I walk in the hotel, in Niall's arm, that I don't have to sleep with that bastard again.
If that was even called sleep, I don't think I even closed my eyes for more than five seconds.

The host checks us in and we're on our way up the sliver elevator.

"I'll take the girl. You boys room together, again." Harry states without a blink.

I let out a small whine in the corner, but only loud enough that I could hear.

"Mate, are you sure it's sa-" Louis begins to talk.

"It's not of your business, mate." Harry growls as he prolongs the word 'mate' through clenched teeth.

Louis nods and takes a step back from Harry.

Louis was the only one who ever called Harry 'mate' instead of 'sir'.
Weird.

The elevator door opens and Harry snakes my hand out of Niall's and takes me to the room.
I didn't realize I was still holding his hand until Harry took it from me.

Harry eagerly swiped his card in the door and jerked it open.

"Get inside." His voice unusually soft.

I promptly nod my head and walk inside of the room.

He follows directly behind and closes the door.

I stand next to the spacious bed, unsure of what to do.

"Do you hate me?" His voice sounding broken. Like he just saw someone kill his family right in front of his eyes.

"What?" I wasn't expecting that question ever to leave his mouth.

"Do you hate me?" He repeats with the same tone.

"I-I" Do I lie or do I tell the truth?

"That's what I thought." He sits on a chair across from the bed and puts his head in his hands.

He stands up and grabs the lamp from the bureau and throws it against the wall, shattering it into thousands of glittering pieces.

Instinct takes over and I grab the back of his torso, holding him tightly from behind.
"Shhh...It's okay." I whisper to his hard back.

He whips me from his back and to his front, and does something unexpected.

He dropped to his knees and hugged me, afraid to let me go.

"Don't worry, my Harry. You have me. I'm here, and I won't let go unless you tell me to." My voice soothing his internal wounds.

His arms hug the back of my legs tighter until he finally lets go of his immense grip and tilts his head to look at mine.

His eyes red, my pants stained with tears.

"Don't cry sweet Harry." I let my hand travel in his curls and gently pull out some of the knots.

He lifts himself from the ground and meets my eyes.

"Can I?" He questions as his lips dangle next to mine.

I bite my lip and nod, too afraid to deny his request.

He brings his lips on mine and slowly presses further. He lips begin to move in sync with mine while his right hand caresses my cheek.
He licks my bottom lip, asking permission to enter.
I allow as his tongue dances with mine.
I've been kissed before, but never like this.
Never so much different emotions into one kiss.

He breaks away too early for my comfort and a small whine escapes my lips.

I quickly cover my mouth with my hand, in shock.

He leaves me there panting as he chuckles lightly to the bathroom.

I grasp the edge of the bed frame to keep my balance.

"Aren't you going to join?" He cheekily smiles to me as he leans against the bathroom frame.

Before I know it my feet are leading themselves to Harry, and I'm an enormous tub filled with multiple jets.