The Unexpected Journey-A Prince Harry Fan Fic

Chapter 71

The folders fell from her hands, crashing to the floor; papers swooshing all around her feet as she closed the three feet between her and the door to her office. Her hands were steady as she turned the door knob and pushed it open.

Harry.

And her heart started beating again in her chest.

"You were right..." His voice was rough, tired—but still full of the same heavy charm she had remembered. "You have way more toys in this office than the one at St. Joe's." With his smug, crooked smile, he held up a tiny plastic hedgehog and placed it on the edge of her desk.

There were no words from her; none. There was nothing but a sharp intake of breath as her hands flew to her mouth. Her head started to shake; her hair moving back and forth over her shoulders. She couldn't believe it.

"Madeline..." The word was heavy with emotion as his smile faded.

"Are you...are you real?" She felt weak and exhausted and unsure. "I see you and I hear you but..."

It took him two steps; two long strides in that unmistakable camouflage uniform, to cross the room to her. Two steps for him to connect with her. Two steps for his arm to circle her waist and press her body to his like he was trying to meld them together. Two steps for his lips to find hers; with such ease and familiarity it was like he had never left—like they were still in his room with her standing on the foot of his bed and him beckoning her to come and kiss him properly.

"I'm real," he whispered; pulling back just enough so that he could meet her eyes, his fingers retracing the planes of her face, his hand reclaiming the curves of her body. "I'm real..."

She remembered thinking that his lips were too soft—too soft for somebody who had just spent 116 days in the hot, dry desert. She remembered thinking that his arms were so strong—amazingly strong and steady as they held her to him.

And then she stopped thinking altogether.

Sighing into him; sinking further and further into the warm, soul lifting space he had pulled her into. His mouth was hot against hers; pulling her lips to his, drawing gasps from deep inside of her. Her body awakening under his hands, under his assurances, began to react. Her fingers twisted around his shirt; pulling him closer and closer—though there was no way he could get closer to her in that moment, in that room—with all of those clothes. Walking her one step backwards, his fingers fanned out; his hands meeting the closed door behind her seconds before he pressed her back against it.

Maddie moaned into his mouth, her hands circling his neck; her fingers navigating into the muss of hair that she missed so much. Tearing his mouth from hers, he blazed a trail from her chin, along her jaw, back to her neck—his nose recalling her smell, his mouth remembering her taste.

"You're real..." She gasped; the heat pushed from her lungs in a strangled sort of gasp—her emotions conflicting in the most wonderful of ways. She felt hot tears come from her eyes and she couldn't help but laugh. He was home. He was safe and home and perfect. Yet the tears came anyway. Harry was quick to tend to them with a swipe of his thumb followed by his lips. His arms moved around her waist then, completely encircling her in his strong, protective embrace. He pulled her away from the door and up into his arms—lifting her feet completely off the ground. Her legs wrapped around him instinctually—as though it was their natural state.

"I'm real," his eyes were dark, intense as they met hers; his hand running along the tangle of limbs around him.

"I missed you," her thumbs rubbed at his temples, her hands fanning out on the sides of his head as she looked down at him.

"You have no idea," he shook his head; his lips curling up as they sought hers again. His mouth was hot, his lips were persistent. It had been too long since he had kissed her, too long since he had felt the way her legs moved around him; too long since he had heard the rush of air that pushed from her lips as he pressed against her. It had been much too long. When he had finally landed that morning, when he had finally touched down on British soil, his first thought, his only thought, was of her. His father was waiting, Will and Kate were waiting, but nothing—nothing—was more important than this moment; when his heart reconvened with hers.