Illusion

Chapter 12: Sunrises, Facing Fears And Good Morning's

Soft, glowing sunlight painted in gold, pastel pink, peach and indigo hues, the screeching of Silver Gulls and the rhythmic ebb and flow of the tide streamed in through the bedroom windows.

It was a foreign, yet not entirely unpleasant mixture of sights and sounds. The early morning rays glistened on the ripples of the waves, Gulls swooped and dove towards the endless expanse of water, the dull roar of the tide crashed to the shore and the Frankston Pier stood out in stark relief.

Harry stared out onto Port Phillip Bay, entranced by the sights and sounds before him. He had his head propped up by his arms as they rested behind his head, his chest rising and falling seemingly in time with the tide and he felt at peace.

He was in bed with the man he loved, his smaller frame sprawled out beside him, with the stunning view stretching out in front of him. It was an altogether exceptional way to begin the morning and one he much preferred to a cavernous, cold and empty hotel suite or his cold lonely bed at home.

He watched as the sky slowly began to change, red's, gold's and purples giving way to oranges and yellows before slowly, ever so slowly, it yielded turning a bright and stunning shade of cerulean blue. He didn't know how long he lay there, simply enjoying life. Enjoying the truly simple and sometimes seemingly insignificant things that he was always too busy to enjoy.

He wished silently to himself that Louis could see this, but this was his view everyday. He'd no doubt seen it hundreds of times before, but none the less he wanted them to share in it's beauty together.

But the way his muscular back rose and fell, the way his dark eyelashes skimmed his cheeks and the way that his lips were parted in a small adorable 'o' shape as he slept had stopped Harry from waking him. Instead he lay and enjoyed the way Louis looked as he slept, wishing he could see what he was dreaming of.

Harry began to get restless, always the early riser even long before his hectic career had even been a distant dream. He was usually up, dressed and enjoying his morning run by this hour of the day. But he didn't usually have a spectacular view and even more spectacular looking Louis to lay and admire.

His back was starting to become sore from all the sitting he'd done yesterday, being confined to uncomfortable and cramped aeroplanes and the countless hours he'd been lying in bed that his body wasn't used to. His body also wasn't used to the rigours of being the top when it came to having sex, but the pain in his back was worth every second he'd spent lovingly worshipping Louis the night before. And if he was perfectly honest he quite enjoyed being the dominant one.

His right hip however, was paining him more than anything else. Lifting the covers and peering down, a large rectangular shaped bruise greeted him.

A smirk spread across his face as his fingertips grazed lightly over it, images of his night with Louis, all fumbling feet, scrambling hands and a metal railing racing to the forefront of his mind.

Last night they'd been rough, letting every ounce of pent up tension loose onto each other, unyielding and unforgiving, yet had been tender, loving, reverent and gentle, worshipping each other's mind, body and soul. They'd loved each other with their words and their bodies and apparently Harry's had paid the price, a price he was always and would always be willing to pay for Louis.

The room was now bathed in the cool winter sunlight and Harry took a moment to survey his surroundings before he got up to start his day. The walls of the room were painted a modest cream, the only defining feature was the black metal framed, floor to ceiling French windows, that lead out onto a small wooden balcony directly in front of him and a sleek silver floor standing mirror.