You Still Have All Of My Heart. (Harry Styles)

29.

After that day, things seemed to wind down, if that was even possible with a life of touring. I never forgot about the phone call, and I started to talk to my mom every day. Danielle and Eleanor quickly became the two people, besides Harry, that I could confide in the most.

We began traveling all around the United States, and each day, the boys grew more and more popular. We were in Boston, and as a celebration of our success, all went out to dinner. We were all just having a laugh and enjoying each others company.

On the way back to the hotel, Harry's arm was wrapped protectively around my waist, and I couldn't have felt any more safe. I smiled to myself just thinking about him.

"T." Two fingers snapped in front of my face, and Harry's grinning face quickly came into focus, with a drink in his hand for me. I took it, and began to sip happily, as he did with his. After another, I starting to space out, a bit tipsy, but it was nice.

"What are you thinking about?" We were curled up together on the couch, still in our 'fancy clothes'. He had been flipping through channels on the TV.

I shook my head, and rested my head on his shoulder. "Oh, nothing, just tired," I sighed. He wrapped his hand around my knee, sending an electric current up my spine.

He put his fingers under my chin, so I was looking him straight in the eyes. "Wanna get un-tired?" he murmured, bringing our faces closer.

"I think I'd like that," I whispered, resting my forehead against his. The lips I had been craving met mine with a softness that I couldn't describe. I could never seem to wrap my head around anything whenever he kissed me, other than the way we fit together perfectly.

He broke away suddenly, and I gave him a confused look. He just grinned slyly, and tightened his arms around me. "No," I warned. "Don't even think about it, Styles!"

As soon as I had the words out, he threw me over his shoulder, carrying me to the bedroom.

"Harry!"

"Topher!" he mocked, throwing me onto the bed effortlessly.

"Well, you're awful forceful," I huffed, crossing my arms, resisting the urges to touch him.

He laid beside me, grabbing my waist and pulling me to him. I looked up at him, trying my best to scowl. "You love me," He murmured, kissing the corner of my mouth.

"True statement," I muttered. "But you're still not forgiven." He smirked, leaning in. He pressed his lips to mine, kissing me long and slow. I felt every nerve ending in my body come alive, it was absolutely amazing.

"Am I forgiven now?" he whispered against my lips. It took every fiber in my being to not just give in.

"No, you're not." I smiled against him. He trailed his lips down to my collar bone, nibbling the skin there lightly.

I shivered, and he chuckled. "How about now?" his voice was husky, making me shiver again.

"Not yet," I breathed.

He kissed up my neck until he got to my bottom lip. His teeth tugged seductively, my eyes closing involuntarily.

"And now?"

"Oh, fine," I grabbed his shirt in my hands, pulling his body to mine. Our lips collided with enough passion to give me goosebumps. My fingers found their way to his hair, one of his hands pressed to the back of my neck. He broke away to plant kisses along my jaw.

He shrugged his blazer off in the process, and I heard it drop to the floor. I took in a shaky breath, and tried to assess the situation. Everything around us felt more real; vibrant, if that made any sense.

Here was this man, who was making me feel like I could conquer the world, just by looking at me. He made me feel more love than I was able to handle.

I sighed unconsciously, and I felt his smile against the side of my neck. "I love you," he murmured, kissing the skin there. I was aware of his fingers sliding up to the zipper of my dress, and for the first time, I didn't stop him.

He pulled the item of clothing over my head without breaking eye contact. Immediately after he did so, I tried to shield myself with a pillow, laughing nervously. "Stop with that. You're perfect," he grinned. "It's not like I haven't seen you like this before," he said, referring to the one time he caught me grabbing clothes from my suitcase in Birmingham.

I smacked his arm. "You pervert!" Laughing, I still held the pillow around me.

"I'm your boyfriend, I'm allowed to think about you naked, aren't I?" He shrugged, smiling.

I blushed, groaning. "You weren't my boyfriend then, Haz!"

"Can I have the pillow?" He just batted his eyelashes, trying to pull me close again but I held him at arms length.

"No, it's your turn." I gestured to his fully clothed self.

"Do the honours," he said softly, opening his arms wide. I unbuttoned the shirt carefully, aware of his eyes on me as I did so. I didn't know if it was the alcohol or the fact it was him I was doing this to, or both: but I felt completely comfortable in that moment when he freed himself from the sleeves, exposing his bare skin.

I made no effort to tear my eyes away from him, and he knew that. He smirked before tossing the shirt to the ground. "Alright, I'm satisfied," I giggled, giving into him again.

In that moment when our lips pressed together once more, I knew I was about to let my guard down for the first time in over two years.

And with that, I pulled him under the sheets.