17BLACK

Chapter 81

Louis' POV:

"I don't really feel like having a heart to heart right now Harold," I say as Harry's lips make work to my neck. It feels better than anything I can imagine, better than being high and better than I remember. I hold onto his curls to convince myself that this is real and not a drug-inflicted hallucination.

"I haven't had sex with you in two months. I'm not exactly patient enough for a conversation." I can feel his breath on my skin, raising chill bumps despite the heat. How did I go two months without this?

I pry his mouth off of my neck just as he's sucking a bruise.

"Are you going to leave after this?" Either way I don't think I have enough control to stop, but I want to know if this is just a trip down memory lane or if we're paving a new road to travel down.

Harry looks at me then, his eyes full of green pain.

"You're the one that left, Lou. I never planned on leaving and I don't now."

I kiss him to shut him up, being completely serious about not wanting to talk about feelings. All I've done these past months is feel, all negatively. Now I'm going to have an entire night of just positive feelings.

And Harry is going to give them to me.

"You frustrate me," I gasp. I grip his waist tightly in hopes of being rough. I want I throw him around and fucking ruin him right now.

"Likewise." He gives me a shit eating smirk before colliding our mouths again.

I fuck into his mouth with my tongue, not caring that he probably can't breathe. I lay my hands on his belly, running my hand up the length of his torso. When they rub over his collarbone, he winces.

I eye the area as I reach down to grab the hem of his shirt. He helps me lift it over his head, his tan skin coming into view as he shrugs the shirt off.

"You got a tan." His skin is flawless, ink covering most of the free area on his right arm. I flick a thumb over his nipple before I see a patch of unfamiliar ink.

"...and a new tattoo?" Right under his right collarbone, is a single word written in thick black letters.

17BLACK

Harry grins shyly, not looking at the tattoo but instead looking at my eyes.

"A few months go I thought that it would be a chore, coming here to London. Now, I owe everything to 17Black." The skin around the tattoo is red, the black crisp and clear.

Before I know what I'm doing I lean forward and press a messy kiss to the ink. Harry gasps, his shoulders flexing in surprised.

"Ouch," he chuckles. His hand reaches to rub circles on the skin at my neck.

I pull away immediately, embarrassed that I didn't think ahead to how it would cause him pain. Harry smiles at my reaction.

"I didn't say to stop," he laughs. I bite my bottom lip and smirk at him.

I step away from his body, his hand falling from my shoulder. I can tell that he's about to protest, but then I push my trousers down off of my hips and to my feet and his mouth closes. His eyes, however, look like they might pop out of their sockets any moment now.

"God, Lou." I look down consciously at my bare legs, seeing the lack of fat that was there before. The past month and a half hasn't been very... appetizing.

"I... just..." I try grasping for words, anything to explain my loss of weight without giving away how broken I was without him.

Harry steps forward, his nose nudging against my hair and his hands trailing along the buttons on my shirt.