Always(Trilogy)

Chapter 16

*Allison's POV*

I continue to read the next piece of paper that Harry's hand had written out.

There are so many things I wish I could tell you, but I'm just not good with words. There are so many things I miss about you, Allison. There are so many things I miss doing with you. I miss the way you wake up, every morning with a smile on your face. And it makes me feel like the best fucking person in the world because I know it is because of me that you wake up so happy and so content. I love the way your skin feels, and how  your body immediately responds to me touching you. It doesn't even have to be in a sexual way, just a kiss to your forehead, or a lingering kiss to you lips, taking your hand, entwining our fingers, laying with you in bed, wrapping my arms around you, your body immediately reacts. When I kiss  your forehead, your body relaxes and you close your eyes, sighing in contentment. You probably don't realize it, but you do it every single time and I wonder why you're so stressed. If you'd allow me near you, I'd ask you why, but now I know it's because of me. Every time we kissed, I could feel your heart speed up, little did you know that mine was doing the same thing. When I'd wrap you in my arms, you'd lean into me, seeking shelter when really, I was the thing you were running from all along. I miss the way you crinkle your nose when you laugh and how you'd furrow your brows in whenever you were trying to concentrate really hard and I'd kiss the wrinkles away just like you'd do to me when I'm stressed out. Your laugh is the most beautiful sound in the world. It just fills me with so much joy and happiness and this indescribable, over-whelming feeling that I have no idea how to explain it to you, but I wish I could. You were always so good with the kids. They absolutely adore you. I adore you. I love everything about you. Every single little thing. I love the way you put your hair up in that adorably messy bun whenever we stay in. I love how you look with no make up on. I love how you look when you first wake up, eyes droopy, but full of love, voice groggy, but filled with adoration for me. I love that you love to fall asleep in my shirts and how you always feel like you have a piece of me when you wear them. I've never let anyone ever sleep, or even wear my shirts. You're the only one. At first, I didn't understand why, but now it's clear as crystal. It feels so right to see you in them. Especially the one you've taken  particular liking to, the red plaid one with the long sleeves. The hem of hit rests just above your knees, the sleeves going way past your wrists and you always ask me to roll them up for you. I love how you can see the curve of your breasts and the shape of your thighs and ass when you wear it, along with those stupid, fuzzy Santa Claus socks. You wear them year-round even when it isn't Christmas. Every time I ask you about them, you tell me, 'To me, the Christmas spirit never dies away!' and then you add, 'Plus they'r'e comfy!' and we laugh and then kiss and we're happy.

I remember our first Valentine's Day. I took you  out to eat, but the food was terrible so we just ended up coming back home and I set up candles and roses and we ordered pizza and Chinese while watching P.S. I Love You. You cried, as I suspected you would. But your startling beauty as the tears rolled down your cheeks made me pay more attention to the moral of the movie and I almost cried, thinking about how unbearable the hallucinated pain was and I remember just feeling the need to take you in my arms and kiss you and never stop, so that's what I did. You didn't even ask me why I had kissed you so suddenly and I think it's because you already knew. I like to think that our souls are so connected that we could communicate without muttering a word. 

I remember how I felt when you lost your memory and I literally died inside because everything was going so well. We were engaged, we had Brooklyn, our lives were perfect. And then this shit happens and fucks everything up. I'll never be able to explain the pain I felt as I watched my wife fall in love with a man that wasn't me. I knew it wasn't your fault, and I knew Niall always had feelings for you, but I continued to blame the world, thought it was really my fault. I should have been there, every step of the way, helping you regain your memory, but like the idiot I am, I decided to just shut you and everyone else out and as a result, you almost didn't remember us and what we had. When we eventually did end up getting married, I was the happiest man on earth. I believe my happiness could've cured cancer. And I wish it could have because then you never would've been diagnosed with it and you wouldn't have had to go through so much pain. That was one of the worst feelings in the world, watching the love of my life deteriorate into nothing and being able to do not a single motherfucking thing about it.