FINE LINE | HARRY STYLES

THIRTY-NINE.

OCTOBER, 2019. CONT.

Bent over my kitchen counter as Harry erratically thrusts into me at two in the morning was exactly where I needed to be. With one hand slamming the side of my face onto the surface, gripping my hair tightly, and the other digging into my hip as he continues to ram in and out of me.

Lately, he's been pent up with all these emotions not  even he can recognize. I'm pretty sure it's just stress and anxiety he's had building up. Which is fine because whenever he decides to take it out on me, it's usually the best sex we have.

He knows I won't refuse. And he also knows I'll let him use me like a rag doll. Though, he's still always respectful of it and afterwards he's constantly following me around to be sure I'm really okay.

But right now, he's lost all control. Hell, I was barely even fully awake until halfway through. I was just coming down to the kitchen to grab water when I noticed he was on the couch strumming his guitar. I asked him what was wrong and I don't really remember what happened next but here we are.

My fingernails dig into his arm as I let myself go, encouraging him to do the same. With a few final thrusts, he collapses on top of me and presses his forehead to my back. I smile when he kisses up and down my spine as he slowly pulls out which always brings me this uncomfortable ache.

Panting, Harry wipes his face and reaches out for a few paper towels to clean the kitchen and both of us.

"We made quite a mess." I laugh softly, observing as he wipes up the residue off the floor.

"You okay?" He asks me as he turns my body so my back is now pressed against the counter.

My eyes follow him as he crouches down and brings a fresh paper towel up my legs. He cleans the rest with his mouth and it's so sudden yet so soft.

"I'm fine, H. Just perfectly fine. You worked a number on me though." I grin, studying the marks that begin to form on my hips.

They'd surely be purple and blue in the morning.

"Fuck.." He exhales, his eyes trailing up my legs to observe them as well.

His hands are gentle this time when he grips my waist, his lips fluttering over each mark carefully. My fingers instinctively run through his hair as he does this.

"Feel better?" I inquire when he rises to meet my face.

"Lots. Thank you. I'm really sorry for all these random bursts of energy. I don't know what's gotten into me."

I cup his face and rise on my tip toes to kiss his nose.

"Come on. I have to pee and then we can make out until we fall asleep."

-

The next morning I wake up to the sound of Harry's meditation app speaking to him softly. He's sitting on the floor in front of the bed, criss cross as he inhales deeply. I can't help but watch him for a moment.

His lips move to whisper the words they tell him to repeat.

"Now, think of someone who you deeply love and care about. Someone who brings a smile to your face when you think of them. Now say their name followed by: may you find happiness, may you find peace, may you find healthiness."

"Soleil, may you find happiness, may you find peace, may you find healthiness."

Oh my God.

I can't resist.

"My baby!" I squeal loudly, kicking the covers off of me as I throw myself at him.