Time Share; A Haylor Fanfic

Chapter 19:

Chapter 19

"Okay, I got this." I clear my throat, staring down at the script in my hands and soaking in the line. Harry nods from a few feet away. I'm helping him with his lines, this being a scene from the movie.

"But Trevor, I can't just turn around and trust you again." I say clearly with a steam of conviction. Harry glances half down at the line to refresh his memory.

"I know I cant, but I don't think you understand, Dani. I love you, I really couldn't give one that Sam likes you, and just because I hit him doesn't mean I'm the bad guy. He provoked me!" He shouts, so into the lines I forget we're acting it out. Then I realize how amazing of an actor he is, so in depth that he zones out and works so hard to do what he does.

"You didn't have to hit him! He's just my friend, he did nothing to you!" I shout back, my grip on the paper growing tighter. Harry advances closer in the moment, spouting off the lines like the scene explains as well as doing the motions.

"He wanted you. I saw it in his eyes, he wanted you like I want you but the difference is that he can't have you." His body now bumping into mine, my heart race picking up.

"And you can?" I retort sassily as the character is explained. Harry presses me into the terrace wall, staring me down. Everything becomes real.

"Yes, because your mine and I am yours." He says huskily though that's not exactly the line, he's actually saying that. Not sure if this is the scene or not yet not caring whatsoever, I meet Harrys dipping lips halfway to mine. The kiss is gentle at first, loving and passionate then becomes urgent and rushed, as if this is the last time we'll kiss. Our lips run after eachother, overlapping eachothers frantically. Harry ushers me up by my bottom, pressing me firmly into the corner wall. He holds me there tightly, our lips only parting for short intervals where we'd meet again a second later.

"Harry," I goad as he trails his kisses down my neck to my collarbone then back up. He frowns and looks around slightly as I fumble my fingers into his buttonup, struggling to get it off. All I wanted during the fight was Harry and now there's this where we can do what we want with eachother as we had before. He turns me quickly, rearing me into the dining room table, clattering the glass from it but neither of us cares.

We work continuously on eachother without breakout our lips. He pauses from kissing my stomach to look down at me, my self consiousness taking over as I shift my gaze from his face to his toned body which only turns me on further. He dips his head again, this time in the crook of my neck, "Beautiful." He whispers, trailing kisses down my body causing me to sigh heavily.

One of his hands touches my cheek, kissing it softly. I grin, my nails digging into his shoulder tightly. Every touch from his skin sends shivers down my spine like heat in a pool of cold water. He sends sparks flying around me with each kiss and all I recognize is Harry and Harry only.

It escalates, Harry towering over me the scene turns rabid. Each of hungrily enveloping eachother over and over again, pushing way past the comfort limit and turning into desperate clinging of bodies. Feelings flow out my mouth in pleasantries, complimenting him and his body without recognizing what I'm doing. Our tongues explore eachothers, memorizing each curve in eachothers bodies. He murmurs possessively against my skin, fingers clutching at my hips.

The rest is clashing and skin hitting skin until I find myself falling asleep in the midst of the makeout session. Dreams filled with where we had left off.

••

I awake to white linens and red woven silk covering my body, unaware of how I got here but thankful. I then feel Harrys warmth behind me, his muscular arm wrapped around my waist, keeping me pressed closely to his strong torso. His chest is tight, inhaling and exhaling slowly under his sleep. I turn silently to face him, staring up at his closed eyes. Suddenly wishing he was awake to kiss me back, I gently peck on his lips while lingering on his bottom lip, not losing sight on them. His hair is perfectly tousled, even after the rough night, he looks and sleeps perfectly sound.

"How are you so perfect?" I whisper more to myself, pushing his curls up off his forehead so I can examine him. I turn my attention towards his inked skin, marking down his arms and on his stomach. A butterfly pairing with two flying birds catches my eye, tracing them out with my finger, my entire focus zoned in on the task until I feel breath on my scalp.

"Distracted?" He murmurs against my hair, swirling a piece in his hand. "Mhmm." I manage, rumbling it slightly as I continue onto his arm. I can feel his gaze dissecting my actions thoroughly.

"You do believe me, right? About that rumor?" He whispers which I look up to meet his piercing green eyes. I raise up a small, genuine smile.

"I do... I believe you. I'm sorry I didn't trust you, Harry. I should've, you're nothing like what I said, I meant none of it." I apologize, all of which is true. I should not have said those things in the first place, they were all in the heat of the moment. I regret it all now. "By the way, is last night apart of the scene because I think i'll need to talk to my dad about rewriting that.." I tease with a smirk.

"No, but even if it was I wouldn't do it because all i'd be thinking of would be you." He trails off.

My attention seems to drift back to his abs, pushing my fingertips through each crease.

"Taylor?" he whispers, my eyes redirecting up quickly, my cheeks heating up from what I thought was him seeing me drooling over his muscles. "Did you mean it when you said you loved me?"

His voice is serious, his eyes sparkling like theyre ready for emotional toil but I just smile, cupping my hands up around his cheeks, our noses brushing. My long, painful thoughts during my time locked in my room had concluded one thing for sure and that was that I loved him. Whether I hated him or not, I loved him at the same time no matter if I wanted to or not. Being a hopeless romantic is nothing short of torture. "Harry Edward Styles. I absolutely, positively am so hopelessly in love with you."

We both mesh our lips at the same time, a powerfully passionate short kiss. One that speaks for itself. "You don't know how long I've been waiting for you to say that." Harry breathes out in relief, pulling me into his chest His skin is steaming, feeling like he should have a fever he feels like he's on fire.

"Taylor, I am so deeply in love with you. What I want more than anything in the world is to have you as my real wife, I want you and you alone. You make me feel... different. Loved and cared for, I never knew those words before you. So thank you, thank you for what you've done to me." he says and it's all correct. He had truly changed, in every way. He was no longer the arrogant jerk that had haunted my dreams but he was now the playful little boy that lit up with his friends, the man that heated up the scene with so much passion that you could cut it with a knife, and the man that absolutely stole my heart.

"What's with all this gooey stuff, bedhead? Just kiss me already." I laugh with a wink, wrapping my arms around his neck enough to press our lips back together with our smiles breaking into the kiss. I am loved.