Through The Dark || Harry Styles

23. LUCY

LUCY

Harry throws me on the bed, crawling in after me with a cheeky grin plastered on his adorable face. My stomach flutters with nervous excitement and as he lays on his side with his head propped up in his hand.

Our bodies are turned to one another and so close that we are almost touching.

Almost.

Even in the middle of the night, with barely any sleep, he looks gorgeous. His green eyes are intense but warm, his lips glistening from where his tongue has just wet them, his white t-shirt clinging to his chest, allowing me to make out the faintest lines of the ink that's hidden below.

Whatever cologne he wears seems to melt into his skin and it's hard, even for me, to pinpoint the notes when they are mixed with his natural scent. It's woody and masculine. I swear I can smell tobacco and spice and a hint of vanilla but all of it is so deliciously warmed into his pulse points that it smells nothing like that at all. It's curiously addictive.

Harry has no shame in making it known that his eyes are wandering down my body, but it triggers a panic about whether I've shaved my legs or if I should put more deodorant on. Shit, what underwear am I wearing? And should I make an excuse to get up and brush my teeth? I need to try and hide my stomach, I hate my stomach.

"Hey, where'd you go?" he smiles softly, his voice soothing.

"Sorry, I just... I worry about things," I tell him, waiting for the inevitable question of, "Like what?"

"I know you do," he says instead. "That's okay, we just need to learn how to manage it."

Dumbfounded, I stare at him for a moment, wondering if I heard him correctly.

Jake always had an issue with the anxiety that I carry around in my back pocket. For years he made me feel like it was something I was making up - just being a little bit dramatic, worrying about nothing, stressing for the sake of it.

He summed it up as being part of my personality, my mother's daughter, which bothered me more than I let on.

Guilt consumes me just thinking these negative things about Jake.

"Can you tell me what you were just worrying about?" Harry's voice cuts through my spiralling.

"Mmm," my teeth sink into my bottom lip, debating whether letting him in on my insecurities is a sure-fire way to kill all sexual tension. "I was worrying about how I look, I guess."

His jaw drops open a fraction. He's trying not to react.

"I thought it would be something like, 'Have I left the oven on?'"

My eyes dart away. Did I?

"You didn't, Luce," he reassures me with a throaty chuckle and a gentle squeeze of my hip. "Can I tell you what I'm worried about?"

Our eyes lock as my selfishness gets put to one side and I give him my full attention with an unsure nod.

He leans in to kiss me first as if he is preparing me for the worst. His tongue slips into my mouth just a fraction and it sends a tingling rush through me.

"I'm worried about you regretting this when you wake up," he confesses.

"No," I try and talk over him but he doesn't let me.

"I'm worried that Lola is going to make out with me in my sleep again."

His grin is wide and blinding and a giggle that bubbles up at the thought.

Glancing back towards the door, he raises his eyebrows comically.

His friendly teasing makes me laugh and he watches my face with a smile, his teeth capturing his bottom lip, almost as if he is pleased with himself for making me relax.