Lessons

Eighth Lesson: How to fight.

This is how it should've gone:
I didn't let him walk away. My hand wrapped around his arm and pulled him back to me, until he was facing me, until his eyes met mine and I could see the hurt in them.
"Don't." I almost whispered, my voice hoarse and almost gone from how hard I had been moaning and screaming all day. "Harry...."
"You don't owe me any explanations." I knew those words.
"Why do I feel like I do?"
"I don't know." His chuckles had a hint of sadness and I felt how my heart broke, even more.
"I was drunk, you weren't there." I told him almost sobbing. "I kept thinking about you and Sam, and I got fucked up. Please, don't leave me."
"Don't cry." His thumb was running over my cheekbones, trying to stop the tears from running down my face. I had to look pathetic, naked, with a red ass, wild hair and tears on my face, but I couldn't help it. I pressed myself to his body, wrapping my arms around his shoulders so he wouldn't get away.
"Worst two weeks of my life." I laughed pathetically, my body rumbling with each little hiccup that came my way. "I'm sorry."
I left a trail of soft kisses down his shoulder, still a little panicked as I was the only one making any kind of contact, his arms were hanging limply at each side of his body. Up in my tiptoes, I kissed his neck, collarbones and shoulders, finally burying my face into the crook of his neck.
Life came back to my body when he wrapped his arms around my waist, as tightly as he could, so tight I almost had to gasp for air. His breath hit my skin when he hid his face on my neck, kissing it lightly. We were both sweaty, and his chest felt cold and clammy and while I would normally get grossed out from how naked and damp we were, I couldn't get enough of it.
"You're not gonna do anything else with him?" He asked me in a small voice.
"No. Not with him, not with anyone else."
"Are you gonna tell him to go fuck himself when he tries anything?"
"I may not be so rude." I kissed his lips softly, smiling when I saw his bright eyes looking at me. Sadness was slowly disappearing from them, being replaced by a lovely hint of happiness. I would give my right arm just to see his eyes every day when I woke up and every night right after going to sleep.
"Tell him you're mine."
"I like the sound of that."
"Are you mine?"
"You got me."
That was how it was supposed to go. I don't know why it didn't go like that, I don't know why I didn't reach to him, why I didn't stop him. Even if he was only going to the next room, it still felt like a hundred miles away, and I felt my heart getting smaller and smaller as he walked away.
Tears started to stream down my face but I was too busy trying not to fall down while I pulled up my jeans up. Fuck skinny jeans. When I was in the middle of pulling my shirt down, wriggling a little as my knotted hair had caught a button and now everything hurt, a different set of hands helped me out, untangling my hair and setting me free. I was so humiliated; I whirled around, trying not to let him look at me.
"You don't have to go. You can stay the night." I felt him take noiseless steps towards me, but I flinched away, taking a shoe and sitting on the bed.
"I don't want to."
"It's late. I'm going to be worried if you go."
"I don't give a fuck." I said and tried to put my shoe on, but Harry's hand took it and sent it flying across the room.
"Stop being so fucking stubborn." He crouched in front of me and put his hands on my tights. He was mad but I didn't give a fuck, I was mad as fuck as well.
I sighed, trying to calm myself and I swept my tongue across my bottom lip, looking at him directly in his eyes.
"I don't know why I did it." I whispered.
"It doesn't matter anymore."
"Harry..." I tried, but he got up.
"Come on, get in the bed."
"Are you getting in with me?" I asked him with a small voice, already starting to feel the soreness in my body. I was so tired, so sad, I couldn't even bear the thought of going home.
"I'm going out."
"Where are you going?" He looked at me and bit his lips, almost hesitant to take another step.
"I'll be back in a few hours."
I watched him go, and as soon as the door closed, I broke up crying, knowing where he was going and knowing that it was my fault. I got up, almost falling for how wobbly my legs where and left the apartment, going home to sleep on my bed.
****
I hated my bed. It was lumpy, and cold and uncomfortable. I hated it with all of my heart and could never really sleep on it anymore. I tried every position I could think of, taking the whole bed for myself or sleeping in a corner; sleeping with a pillow between my legs and a teddy bear hugged tightly to my chest, or completely still and straight, looking at the ceiling. It was impossible. And if you're thinking it's because it's not Harry's, fuck you. I refuse to believe that was one of the reasons for my lack of sleep, which was outstanding and worrisome, I loved my fucking sleep.
After a while of laying on the bed with my head hanging from it, the blood rushing through my brain, I finally decided to get up so I could take a shower. It was the last class of the semester, so I might as well go, even if I didn't want to, not one bit. I tried to make myself look presentable, ironing my hair and picking a cute outfit that my roommate had made me bought. Shopping used to be my favorite thing to do, but when my roommate suggested it, I groaned and almost cried at the perspective of people surrounding me. Still, she dragged me out of the apartment, telling me I needed sun so I could grow up like a cute flower. She was the worst making analogies.
"Oh, look at you. You look decent!!!"
"Fuck off." I groaned, taking my bag from the couch and waiting for her so we could walk to classes.
"I need coffee or I won't be able to stay up during Math. Let's go to Starbucks, my treat." She bumped my shoulder and I smiled at her, my mouth watering at the perspective of the sugar-calories-guilt loaded drink. Plus, she was paying.
"Okay, you got yourself a deal."
"Of course I got myself a deal." She snorted. "I'm paying for my deal."
"Hey! Give me a fucking break, I've been through a rough patch!!"
"I know, baby. Love sucks."
I looked away, ignoring her last statement for the sake of my own mental health. It was a cold morning, so my hands were safely tucked inside of my jacket, and if it weren't for that, I would probably be weaving them through my hair.
The place was warm, smelled like coffee and I was ready to call it my home. When she started talking about how hard her Math class was, I started to dose off. A person that willingly chooses something that deals with math has it coming, whatever it is. With my elbow resting on the counter and my chin propped up on my hand, I started dreaming away, my eyes almost closing until she shove me against a wall, hiding me behind a division.
"Dude, what the fuck?!" I asked while rubbing a sore spot on the back of my head.
"Sorry, I just thought you wanted the support so you could continue sleeping." Now, while this was something she would normally do and wouldn't even faze me off otherwise, she looked nervous and fidgety, so I pushed her away, coming out of my hiding place and looking to the front of the store.
I'm sorry, I'm a shitty person. I got scared. I was drunk, I didn't know what I was doing. Please forgive me. Those were the words that wanted so desperately to come out of my mouth as soon as I saw him. He was there, standing tall in his dark blue coat and his white tee, his hair tied in a bun and a nice smile on his face while he ordered. I tried to walk to him, still half hidden behind the wall, but she grabbed my hand and pulled me back, hiding me again completely.
When Sam entered the place, a bright smile on her face and perfect hair on her head, I felt my heart dropping to my stomach and I willingly took a few steps back, so there was no chance either of them would see me.
We both poked our head behind the wall, curiosity winning the battle in our heads, and tried to steal glances of what was going on. I wished I hadn't when I saw his arm going around her shoulders and her finger tangling with his. I wanted to throw up and tore myself from the wall, going to hide in the corner of the wall, crossing my arms over my chest and looking down to the floor.
"So, now we just wait?"
"We just wait." I nodded. I thought about how he had fucking ended everything because of Pete and I felt my nose flare. Fuck, we were nothing when I sucked Pete off. Yes, I had fucked up, and but why did he get to do whatever he wanted and I was the one hiding behind a wall? Fuck him. "You know what? Fuck it, we're leaving."
"There's only one exit and it's literally in front of him."
"And we're leaving through it."
"But...." I had already started to walk, going around the counter to look for the exit. My roommate was almost running behind me. I hadn't thought it through, cause when I heard Sam's giggles my eyes darted to them, meeting Harry's eyes halfway. His eyes went wide when he looked at me and I kept my face up, refusing to be the first one to break the eye contact. I almost laughed when his fingers left Sam's and she turned around to find me there. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction to stay there longer than necessary, I walked out of the store, not even waiting for my roommate and feeling my heart wrench in a tight knot.
****
They say there are 5 stages of grief: Denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. Does that apply to me? Are those general stages that we could throw to every kind of situation? Do we have to follow them in order? If so, I suddenly went back to anger. I was going through a steady depression, but now, my body was boiling in rage.
I barely paid any attention to the lecture, which was going to bite me in the ass sometime soon, but literally all I could think of was Harry's hand in Sam's. I kept my hand fixed on one point in front of me and almost didn't notice when the girl in front of me turned around to give me one sheet. I think something she saw scared her, cause she didn't insist, she immediately gave the sheet to the guy next to me and turned around, moving her chair slightly away from me.
When I finally got home, I paced around and bit my nails until they almost bled. If you wanted me to describe how I was feeling, I don't think I would be able to. All I knew was that my heart was pounding and my head was throbbing. Throwing the sheets to the floor, I changed my bed; I even cleaned up my room, sweeping and tidying up so I wouldn't have to think about Harry. This was not how it was supposed to go. It was supposed to be fun and sexy, I was supposed to learn a few things here and there and he was supposed to come. It was nothing more, it was never meant to be nothing more, and still I felt like he had taken my heart out and stepped on it. I felt like I had helped him, maybe taking it out myself and being the first one to stomp on it. Jesus, I was being melodramatic.
Crying over boys was literally one of the last things on my list, maybe before eating bugs in an exotic place. I had never had the need, all of my previous experiences before Harry sucking so bad it was a miracle I had let him convince me to even try out little deal. From my first kiss to my first time, it had all been so bad and sad if I had to sworn males off, I wouldn't even sweat about it. But life has some ways of being a complete bitch and there I was, with a knot on my throat and the tears brimming in my eyes. I couldn't even cry properly, no sound came out of my mind and each time I managed to sniffle, it felt extremely fake. However, the tears came pouring down and I put a hand on my mouth so I could drown the noiseless whimpers.
"Fuck it." I grabbed my jacked and got out of my apartment, walking aimless around the street. I just wanted to grab fresh air and clear my mind, maybe eat a chocolate bar, even when I knew that it was going to get stuck in my throat and that I was going to throw it up at the end.
Before I could notice, I was standing in front of his door. I knew the doorman never really announced me, but I could barely remembered how I had gotten up there, as the elevator was broken and unless I had learned how to teletransport, I had taken the stairs up.
He opened the door, wearing only a pair of sweatpants that put all of his tattoos and hard body in display. Sadly, I had only one thing in mind and that was to hurt him. I pushed him as hard as I could, making him stumble a little and look at me with a stunned face.
"What the fuck?"
"You're a fucking jerk!" I accused him, poking my finger on his chest and pushing a little more. His hands wrapped around my wrist to stop me but I trashed until I was free again. "You put all this show when I'm with Pete and then go around, strolling hand in hand with Sam? Fuck you!"
"Fuck me?" He snorted. "No, fuck you! You don't get to be the one fucking pissed when you fucking cheated on me!"
"I didn't cheat on you! You weren't my fucking boyfriend and we were fighting and I was fucking drunk but you never let me explain!"
"Well, now we're fucking done, so what's your excuse? Do you want me to wait around for you until you decide I'm fucking worthy?"
"Fuck you! And go ahead and stop waiting for me, I fucking hate you anyway!" I spat on his face, whirling around to leave the apartment, but didn't make it too far as he took a bunch of my jacket and pulled me back with it.
"You hate me?" He smiled coyly at me and I noticed that his eyes were already darker.
"So fucking much." I whispered, grabbing his shirt to give me some balance when he pulled me to his chest.
"Good." No, there was nothing soft about the kiss. There was a lot of passion, and maybe that was the reason why he pushed me harshly against the door, only backing off a few inches to let me move when I whimpered because the knob had buried on my skin. Once I had moved away from the knob, he literally pressed his body to mine, not leaving one inch between our bodies.
His tongue was inside of my mouth, completely dominating the kiss before he decided to start biting on my lips. I was getting excited from how rough he was being, how his big hands were roaming up my body and squeezing my eyes, I had to start rubbing myself against his thigh between my legs. It was not nearly enough what I needed, but it had to suffice for now, as he was kissing my neck, biting on it and making sure he left purples that were noticeable miles away.
"Be quiet." He commanded when I moaned, the rolling of my own hips and the anticipation for what he was going to do to me, making me wetter and wetter. I tried to pull his face up so I could kiss him, but he stopped me from doing so by tilting his head to one side. "You don't get to touch me, babe."
I whimpered in protest, almost shrieking when he hooked one of my legs around his waist, the other one following it so I would fall, until both of my legs were secure around him and his lips were attacking mine mercilessly.
When he started walking, I knew exactly where we were going and I smiled in the kiss, tightening my grip around his hips so I wouldn't fall, but it was really unnecessary, as his hands were on my ass, supporting the weight of my body.
When he let me fall on the bed, or threw me on the bed, whichever you prefer, my body bounced a little, and I immediately propped myself up on my elbows, looking at him while I spread my legs. He looked down to me, his eyes going up and down my body until they met mine again. The smirk on his face was really telling of what was coming and when he opened his mouth to talk, all I could think was how beautifully they moved.
"You need to get naked, babe." He said, taking my shoes off so I could kneel on the bed. I eagerly got up, taking my clothes off and standing in front of him in my underwear. I wasn't shy anymore, he had literally tasted every inch of my body, his fingers had trailed up and down my body and he probably knew it better than me, better than anyone.
When I was about to unclasp my bra, he shook his head, pointing to the bed for me to lie down.
"Leave it on. I'll take it off myself."
I nodded, climbing on the bed and lying down so I could spread my legs again. The wet patch in front of my panties didn't go unnoticed to either of us, his eyes fixed on it when he kneeled on the bed and hovered over me.
He didn't come near my face, as I expected him to, staying there, in between my legs and hovering over my stomach. I sat up so I could kiss him but it was more than biting, roaming and pulling than kissing properly. When my hand tried to cup his face, he pushed it away.
"Say it again." He whispered in the middle of the kiss and I was confused for about a second before I could react.
"I hate you."
"Yeah? How much?"
"So fucking much."
"Remember that when I'm eating you out and you can't touch me." He said, pushing me to the bed and breaking the kiss to my despair so he could smirk at me. There was no sweetness or tenderness in his smile, only lust covered his features. He never stopped looking at me when he hooked his fingers in the hemline of my panties, pulling them slowly down and shoving them in the pocket of his sweatpants
"You're soaking." He skimmed one finger down my slit and when his knuckle hit my clit, I shivered visibly, shifting so I could see what he was doing.
Licking my own lips, I continued watching how his finger played lightly with my clit before he slid it down my slit.
"Harry, please."
"Quiet."
I lied on the bed and tangled my fingers on the sheet, biting my lips while I waited for him to decide to fuck me.
The foreplay was taking too long or I was desperate to have him, either way I needed him to stop fucking around and fuck me to another planet, like I knew he could. But instead, I kept quiet, biting my lips hard so I wouldn't even whimper.
He hovered over me again, leaning and extending his body so he could open the drawer and take out the little bullet he bought out last time together. I rubbed myself against his thigh in anticipation.
"Eager?" He asked and I nodded, letting a strained moaned go when I felt my poor clit throb. "You don't come without my permission," I nodded again and licked my lips, sure the desperation was now written on my face. "and you're a good girl for me, okay?"
My eyes went all the way to the back of my head when the bullet connected to my clit, rubbing it with its vibrations. It wasn't until Harry slid one of his long fingers inside that I almost lost it, crying out with the first rub of my g-spot that he already knew by heart.
"Look how fucking wet you are." He said, lying by my side. "Hold the bullet." He commanded, and my fingers went down and I held the little cold thing, crying when it drove me closer and closer to the edge and it was getting harder to stay quiet when Harry just kept thrusting his finger inside of me, stroking my g-spot each time.
I turned my head until I was facing him, my lips looking for his so we could kiss, slowly and passionately, our tongues moving in sync with each other.
There was no longer controlling my body. It had a life of its own and the shaking of my legs and the throbbing of my clit felt like a fucking out-of-body experience. It was almost as if my mind were on some place, like focused on his kiss, while my own body did his thing.
Before I could actually reach my high, for which my body was more than completely ready, he pulled my hand away, making me drop the bullet on the bed and pulling his own fingers away.
"You're only coming because of me." He warned me and positioned himself between my legs. I no longer felt rage or jealousy. Right now, the only feeling I was aware of, was my need for him. I was so fucking needy, the time he took to bring his lips to my tights and bite on them was like an eternity to me. The pain I felt when he sank his teeth on my skin went almost unnoticed, the goosebumps prickling on my skin up and down, up and down until I shivered.
Not being able to touch him was awful. My fingers hurt and fiddled, wanting desperately to take the little tie that kept his hair in a bun and pull it away, so they could run through his fingers.
"Fuck, you're soaking." He placed a kiss on my clit and I had to make an effort not to close my legs around his face. "How wet would you be if you loved me?" He asked, kissing around my inner thighs.
Before I could answer, his lips attached themselves to my clit, sucking on it roughly while his fingers helped his spread my lips. I started rocking my hips, now unable to control the flow of my moans, whimpering with each suck and lick. His tongue swirled around my clit and I felt him moving it in defined patterns. At the end, I felt him form a "Y" and I chuckled, looking down at him.
"It belongs to me." He mumbled and the vibrations of his voice were making me even wetter for him, if that was even possible. "You need to remember that."
I lolled my head, feeling the need to touch him consume me while he continued lapping, pushing me over the edge with each movement of his tongue. His fingers were digging on my skin and I was going to have a whole map of bruises, I was actually going to be able to trace the night on my skin.
"You can come." He said and I almost sighed in relief.
When I reached my orgasm, I had to arch my back, hooking my leg around his shoulder and pushing him closer to my wetness. Maybe it was because of that, or maybe it was because he was as unwilling to let go as I was, but he kept lapping and sucking, licking me clean and then some more. His lips wrapped around my finger until it was throbbing again, or maybe it just never stopped, clenching my walls until a second orgasm washed over me.
"Jesus, fuck, Harry!!!" I screamed, finally letting go all the noises, mumbles, curses, whimpers and moans that I had drowned at his command. "Oh, my fucking God."
I kissed him eagerly when he crashed his lips to mine. His body had me pinned to the bed and I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, taking advantage of the fact he was too preoccupied unclasping my bra.
When he finally succeeded, he literally kneaded and sucked and bit on them, until they felt raw and marked, until the purple evidence of his lips on them was clear and present on both boobs. I was going to need all the concealer in the world if I wanted to even try to hide all the hickeys he had left.
His tongue played with mine and I sighed at the taste. It was me, yes, but it was mixed with his usual sweet taste and it made me feel like it was my own branding on him, like I was marking him as mine as well.
He pulled away, climbing out of the bed and taking his sweatpants off, pulling his boxers away. He picked the sweatpants before they fell on the floor and took my panties out.
"Turn over." He ordered and offered me the pillows that were right next to my head. I complied, putting the pillows under my hips and raising my hips even more. I felt the swatting of his hand over my ass cheek and I moaned, my skin tingling and resulting in even more wetness between my tights. Soon, I was going to start dripping.
"You have such a nice ass. I should spank you and just fuck you in the ass." He was running his hands up and down the curve of my ass.
"Fuck you."
"Nope. But I'm going to fuck you. Give me your hands." I had the side of my face pressed against the bed and I tried to see what he was going to do, but couldn't. It wasn't until I felt the lacey material linking both of my hands over my back that I understood why he wanted my panties. He was literally tying me up with them.
His cock ran over my ass and I raised my hips, feeling it pressed against my skin.
"Fuck, Harry, fuck me." I demanded, not wanting to wait a second longer to have him inside of me. He chuckled, but didn't try to punish me or be funny about my outburst. Instead, he wrapped his arms around my waist, until he could connect his finger with my clit and rub on it. "Fuck, Harry, please don't tease me."
"You want me to fuck you, babe?"
"Yes, please."
"How?"
"Hard."
I hadn't even finished telling him when he slammed inside of me. I mean slam, like he actually plunge inside of me so hard the force sent me forward, until his hands on my waist stopped me from moving.
"Fuck, I swear you've gotten bigger." I panted when I felt the second thrust coming. He was filling me even more, which I never thought possible, but I could feel him in my stomach, stretching me even wider as well.
"You've gotten fucking tighter." His voice was completely hoarse, putting a hand right next to my head while he kept thrusting. The slapping of our skin filled the room when our moans felt to do so. There was no doubt in my mind my legs and ass were going to be full with new marks to keep a track on. The fact that I was going to be sore as fucking hell didn't even crossed my mind, too focused on the fact that his cock was brushing my g-spot with each thrust and that his finger was drawing circles on my clit. I closed my eyes, crying out curses with every new thrust, so fucking ready to let go. I just needed him to tell me I could come, to give my own body permission, for some twisted reason.
"Fuck." He moaned when I clenched my walls around me and I felt my body being lifted, his hand pulling me back from my hair until my back hit his chest. His lips immediately attached themselves to my neck and I tilted my head so he could have more space to kiss. When he ran his tongue over my newly formed hickey, I winced, feeling the skin sore and sensitive.
"Wanna come?"
"Yes, please." I begged. He wrapped a hand around my throat, squeezing it a little until I was sent to a frenzy, my head and vision turning dizzy and almost black. I gasped for hair, a last thrust sending me to the bed where I fought my orgasm over control of my body. The fact that my walls were clenching like crazy helped him reach his high right after me, making me feel warm inside when he came inside of me.
"Fuck." He panted and fell on the bed right next to me. I had my face buried on a pillow, struggling for air while I came down from my high.
I felt his fingers run down my spine and I purred, scooting closer to him until the warmth of his body wrapped my own.
"I don't want to go." I complained, sighing when his fingers ran up to my neck and then back down.
"Don't go. Stay."
"Can I?"
"Yes. Look at me." He said and I complied, turning so I was facing him. "But if you do, things have to change. I can't, I need to know you're mine, that I don't have to worry about anyone else."
"You never did."
"But still, things happened. That's fucked up."
"I'm sorry, I really really am. I was stupid."
His lips pressed to my forehead and I closed my eyes at the contact. Letting him pull my body closer to his, I hooked my leg around his waist.
"What about Sam?" I asked him, running my thumb over his lip.
"You don't have to worry about her, babe."
"But I do."
He nuzzled his face on the crook of my neck and his hand ran up and down my leg.
"You don't hate me, right?"
"I don't know what I feel about you half of the time, Harry. But no, I don't hate you. I don't think I do. I was just pissed off."
"Well figure it out, alright? Together."
"I just don't want to lose you as a friend. No matter what, I want you to be my friend."
"We'll go as far as you want to go."