Sonata (Harry Styles FanFiction)

35. Veni, Vidi, Vici

"Harry," my name was a half sob, half prayer and I clung to her, pulling her down to kiss me. My unspoken promise translating through the contact we were sharing. I was here, here for her. She wasn't alone. I moved my hips to join her now desperate rhythm and the sound of skin slapping skin filled the room. The sound was intoxicating, almost as intoxicating as the girl above me. Her skin was glistening, her scent inebriating; she smelled of rich, french perfume, floral shampoo, and sex. Breathing her in, I ran towards the edge of oblivion, leaping off and soaring down into the darkness. She came with me, those heart shattering silent tears slipping between our mouths, flavouring our kiss. I clung to her still as we fell, settling back down into infinite nirvana.

Harry Styles

I had no idea how long we'd laid there. Her head was nestled into the crook of my neck. I could feel the hot silent tears still slowly slipping down her cheeks and onto my skin. I didn't move; I just laid there beneath her, holding her to me, wondering what the hell had happened to this vibrant girl. It could have been minutes later— it could have been hours. I didn't care and it didn't matter; all I knew was that at some point the tears stopped and her breathing evened— she'd finally fallen asleep. No matter how much I wanted to though, I couldn't join her. My mind just wouldn't stop turning. I needed to know what happened to her, what could have possibly left her so hurt and broken.

Absently, I ran the tips of my fingers up and down her naked spine; the gentle bumps of her vertebrae through her skin distracting me. God, she was so thin. What on earth did this girl do to keep up this staggering energy? From the way that her pale skin stretched across her frame, she couldn't ingest much more than I saw her eat tonight. How? Why? Couldn't she see how beautiful she was without trying to starve herself?

Between skin and bone was a thin, but toned layer of muscle. She was obviously very active. I couldn't help the wave of heat that washed through me at the though of exactly what kind of physical activity she'd taken part in to build that muscle tone. I didn't particularly think that I wanted to know the true details.

Cautious not to wake her, I let my fingers explore the naked skin of her back and sides. A shiver ran through her and I moved quickly to right the comforter around her with one hand, before resuming my exploration.

I froze the second my touch brushed over a jagged incongruity in the skin between her shoulder blades. It was so light that I hadn't ever noticed it before; a thin and fading jagged line marred the smooth flesh along her right shoulder blade. Gently, I traced it with the pad of my thumb and a low, quiet sob slipped out of her throat, wracking her slender form.

"Arrêtes, s'il te plait," (Stop, please,) she whispered, her voice breaking over the lilting accent. I froze immediately, but it didn't help, "S'il te plait, je t'en prie, non!" (Please, please, no!) Instinctively, I held her tighter, my hand coming up to cup her cheek and brush away the hot tears.

"It's just a dream. It's just a dream," I soothed, brushing my thumb back and forth along her prominent cheekbone. She quieted a bit, but the tears still slipped out, unintelligible murmurings slipping out of her trembling lips. "Come back to me, Darien," I whispered, willing her away from whatever terrors were plaguing her in her dreams. A shudder raced through her before she suddenly stilled, her breathing changing.

Shit, she was awake.

"I didn't mean to wake you," I breathed, resuming the trail my fingers had been taking up and down her spinal cord.

"What-what did you do?" She asked, propping herself up to look at me with glistening, sleep addled eyes, trails of tears still slipping down her cheeks. I just stared back at her, all thought deserting me.