Gardens Of Eden (A Harry Styles Story)

37. Ice Cream

I had the car packed up to go just before 11am on Sunday. 

The past week had been a write-off at work, and now that I had some reassurance that we were safe to go home, it was time to get back on track. 

I turned towards the sound of the front door closing and voices saying their goodbyes.

Mum had Eve pulled in for a hug, and it looked like she was talking quietly in her ear. When they pulled apart, Eve's blue eyes were shining, and she said something back that sounded like a thank you. I tried not to let my eyes linger on her long legs, complimented by a pair of denim shorts. 

I slammed the boot closed before joining them.

"Love you mum, thanks for everything."

"Please come back soon! I'll be here, waiting patiently."

"We will." I hugged her tightly and she gave us all parting waves as we got in the car.

"Drive safe, call me when you get back!"

We were on the M6 a few minutes later, blasting the Doors and leaving Holmes Chapel in the rearview.

**

Three hours and a wide variety of car tunes later, Harry told me we would soon be at Dr. Withers house. 

I was excited to get the Frankenstein-esque stitches out of my face, and the doctor was impressed with how the cut had healed. The procedure to remove the stitches was relatively short and painless. He gave me a new prescription for a lighter dose of pain killers, and instructed me to call him if I experienced any dizziness or loss of vision. 

I was almost back to normal. My cheek would be sensitive for a few weeks at least, but there was nothing else I could do aside from letting it heal. 

When Gemma finally dropped us off, Harry made a point of locking the front door behind himself with one hand and tossing his bag toward the stairs with the other. Deep green eyes never left my face as he did it. They traveled down my body the same way he had done when he saw me in the leather jacket.

"No more people." 

"No more people." I agreed.

"No more driving."

"Mm Mm." I shook my head and bit my lip, drawing his eyes downward. 

"Just you..." he leaned down and kissed me, "and me." He kissed me again, this time harder. I kissed him back, feeling that new sense of contentedness settle in. It was addicting, he was addicting, and the effect he had on me was a terrifying thing.

"About time." I whispered. He hummed in appreciation, leading me backwards slowly. His hands were tight on my sides, holding me to him. My mind was reeling with the possibilities of what could happen, so lost in his kiss I didn't have time to catch myself when Harry's bag on the floor tripped me up.

Harry and I both toppled backwards. It would've been a hard landing too, if he hadn't reached out just in time to catch himself with one hand on the railing of the stairs. I heard my own squeal, and my eyes squeezed shut as I braced myself for an impact that didn't come. 

Slowly, I reopened them to see Harry staring down at me, breathing hard. 

"You are going to be the death of me." He rasped, flicking his head to get his hair out of his eyes.

"I'm going to be the death of both of us." I replied, letting him help me up. Harry was running his tongue along his bottom lip, and I realized then that it was bleeding.

"Oh shoot." I leaned in for a closer look.

"Think I bit it." He shrugged.

"I'm the worst." I breathed, watching him put his hands into his pockets. He gave me the classic Harry close-lipped smile.