Forbidden Feelings (Larry Stylinson) (On Hold-- Rewriting)

Chapter 18:

I stumbled through the front door behind Liam, feeling myself dripping in sweat while Liam seemed only slightly sweaty. He laughed as I rushed to the sofa and crashed down onto it face-first. "Leave me here to die," I moaned out, and I could just imagine Liam rolling his eyes.

"Maybe we should have started you out at a job," Liam voiced, and I lifted my head up to glare at him.

"Really? You think so?" I growled out, but he only shrugged before disappearing into the kitchen.

I laid still for a few moments before managing to stand up from the couch. I walked with a limp to my room, remembering how Liam told me I should have stretched first before running, to which my reply was, "You couldn't have told me that before I pulled my muscle?"

I finally reached my bedroom and went into the bathroom. I stripped off my sweaty and sticky clothes before getting into a warm shower. I was surprised that I was able to stand upright for a decent five minutes in the shower.

As soon as I stepped out, I wrapped a towel around my waist and went back into my room. I walked over to my dresser, going to search for a pair of boxers, when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

I jumped in surprise and yelled out loud before turning to see who was behind me. "Jesus, Harry. What are you doing?" I gasped out, trying to forget about the fact that I was standing in front of the boy I liked in nothing but a towel. It was embarrassing.

"Sorry," He laughed out, taking his hand away. "I figured we could get a head start on our day together. I brought over some movies, blankets, snacks, and a few board games. What do you want to do first?" He wondered, and I looked over at my bed to see the pile of things be brought over.

"Sleep," I responded honestly. "Liam really kicked my ass today with the running. I'm knackered. Remind me to never, ever go running with Liam again. Maybe Zayn. Never Liam."

I turned back around and pulled out a pair of boxers before shrugging them on underneath the towel. I finally dropped it off and pulled out some sweats from my closet. I put them on and trudged my way over to my bed, crashing down on it with the intent to knock out within a few seconds. However, that plan changed as Harry followed behind me and sat himself on my back.

"What're you doing?" I mumbled sleepily, my head pressed into the pillow. His weight didn't hurt me, but it did cause me to sink a little deeper into the mattress.

"I'm giving you a massage. It'll help your tired muscles," He said before pressing his warm hands down against the bare skin of my shoulders. He added a bit of pressure, his touch firm and effective as he began to massage my shoulders.

"That feels fucking amazing," I groaned out, losing myself in the way Harry's hands rubbed circles into the skin of my shoulders. I felt my muscles relax and my body go limp against the mattress.

"Shh. Just close your eyes and relax," Harry ordered, and I complied.

I kept my eyes closed, feeling my whole body sag down just a bit. I didn't realize how tense I was beforehand.

Harry's hands travelled down my back, massaging near the top and over the dip in my back. I kept my eyes closed, enjoying the amazing feeling. It was like heaven, I decided, Harry's hands were heaven.

I winced as Harry's hands traveled to the backs of my legs, and he made a tsk sound. "Pulled muscle?"

"Didn't stretch beforehand," I mumbled out.

"It needs ice," Harry said, moving away to grab something before returning. He lifted up my leg, and when he lowered it again, there was something soft underneath holding it at a higher elevation than before. A pillow.

Pretty soon, Harry's hands were on my feet, adding pressure as he massaged them.

"Fuck," I groaned out again. "I could kiss you right now."

My eyes snapped open, and I tensed up as I realized what I had said in my haze. I didn't want Harry to respond because I didn't want thinks to get awkward. I just wanted the bed to open up and swallow me whole so I wouldn't have to face his response.

I squeezed my eyes shut tight again, but Harry's hands never stopped moving on my feet. His fingers still pressed firmly into the skin there, and he seemed completely unfazed as he spoke.

"Good thing that's already crossed off the bucket list."

He was joking. He was making a joke out of it because he could. Because he felt nothing when we kissed, and I assured him that I didn't either. If he was joking, it was my job to keep the tone just as lightweighted.

"There's no way that's on your bucket list," I mused, forcing out a chuckle.

"Top five. I specifically wrote, 'Kiss Louis Tomlinson.'"

"Oh yeah? Then what's number one?" I questioned, finding myself actually enjoying the banter.

"Hmm," Harry hummed out in thought, hisbhands moving from one foot to the other, offering it the same attention. "I'd say a magic carpet ride. Aladdin style."

I laughed at his reponse, and be pinched at the back of my leg.

"Don't make fun of my dreams."

"Your dreams were written when you were twelve and watching as many Disney movies as possible," I accused playfully, and Harry laughed.

"Alright, Mr. Tough guy. What's your number one?"

I thought seriously about the question. I never really made a bucket list. I was never really someone to set specific goals for myself. I was more like water, just going with the flow. I didn't expect too much, and I didn't out expectations on people. Just like I didn't expect Harry to like me back.

If I could have one thing in the world, what would I want?

"Find my soulmate," I whispered out, and Harry's hands did pause this time. His fingers stopped massaging, and he lowered my foot down onto the mattress before crawling beside me and looking at me in the eyes.

"Really? I didn't expect it to be something so...."

"Sappy?" I supplied, and Harry shook his head.

"No, not sappy. Though it is. Something so... raw. I didn't know you believed in soulmates." Harry grabbed another spare pillow and hugged it to his chest.

"I sort of always have. You don't?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. "I don't know what I believe in. Love, obviously, but I don't know about falling in love."

I sat up in my spot and faced Harry, looking him in the eyes.

"I've always believed in soulmates. They don't necessarily have to be the romantic kind. It just has to be someone you feel like you connect to on a different level. Someone you can bond with, tell everything to. Someone you feel such a strong, unbreakable connection with, even through the ups and downs. It can be romantic, it can be a friendship, it can even be a sibling or a family member. Just someone you are so truthful to."

"And you don't think you've ever had that with anybody? That connection?" Harry questioned, his curiosity serious instead of teasing.

"If I had to pick someone, I'd say my mum was the closest I've ever been. She's just amazing. I can always count on her, and she seems to know whenever something's wrong with me. Even from miles away," I replied.

"What about us?" Harry questioned, and I raised an eyebrow at him. My heart felt like it was bursting at the words, wishing he meant it romantically, but I knew he didn't. "What about our friendship? I feel pretty connected to you. Remember how drawn we were to one another even from the very first day? There's got to be a reason for that."

"Are you saying we're soulmates?" I wondered, not wanting to make assumptions.

Harry grinned and nodded. "We're definitely soulmates. Now, c'mon, soulmate. Let's start our first movie of the day. I'm thinking The Notebook."

Harry moved to grab the pile of movies, and I offered him a forced smile when he turned back to look at me, but my mood was officially ruined.

Soulmates.

As much as I longed for it, I didn't want it at the same time. At least, not in the way Harry did.