When He Holds Your Hand

I've been in plenty of awkward situations in my life, like calling my teacher 'mum' in front of a whole classroom of unforgiving teenagers, falling over in front of a group of hot guys whilst dancing in heels, and going up to a woman in the supermarket, who I thought was Rose, grabbing her waist and yelling, "Hey bitch, you're on my patch!" before realising that it was actually a complete stranger! All of these combined could not beat the awkward knot that sat in my stomach as I showered.
I was aware, or rather hopeful, that when Harry had said the song inspired by our relationship was about love that he did not mean he was suggesting we were in love. But it definitely made me squirm - what I couldn't tell was if I was squirming at the idea of love in a good or bad way. Falling in love with Harry would be disastrous and there would be no way in hell he would fall in love with me, but I couldn't deny that I was hugely fond of him and being in his company.
After long enough to give us both time to get over the embarrassment I switched the shower off and stepped out of the cubicle. Harry leant against the sink counter, his arms across his chest and the navy blue boxer briefs worn low on his hips, the outline of his erection was clear enough for me to see.
Forgetting the towel I held and dropping it to the floor, I strode across the bathroom into Harry's now open arms, pressing my wet body against his warm one. Our lips met with vigour and before I knew what was happening I was spun around and lifted up onto the counter.
Harry was rough with me in the most delicious way, thrusting into me so hard that I passingly worried for my internal organs. He was proving a point though: he wasn't in love with me; we were here for sex and that was all it was for him. I was one of many ports, but my marital situation was good song material, and I was fine with that... sort of.
I tangled my fingers in the hair that had dried in curls at the nape of his neck and held on to him tightly as he came hard without any care if I had come or not. We were still and silent for a few moments; there was no post coital pillow talk or asking if I was ok, he was still shaking and shuddering as the nerve endings remained clasped in my warmth.
"I need to get down", I whispered. The cramp in my thigh was starting to set in and I was cold.
Untangling from me, Harry grinned sheepishly and helped me off the counter.
"Are you ok?" he asked, reaching for a dry towel and passing it to me, instantly undoing all his roughness had intended to show me.
"I was going to ask you the same thing." Wrapping myself in the soft, fluffy fabric I watched Harry's cheeks flush. "I didn't know you had that side to you, I quite enjoyed it."
He laughed and pulled me against him again, enveloping me into a warm and comforting hug before whispering, "I might tie you to the bed posts later." A groan left my lips at the idea of being completely open to Harry with no control as his hands and mouth wandered over my body. "I'll take that as a yes."
We ate breakfast then lay on the sofa idly chatting and enjoying the lack of pressure to do anything or go anywhere. He found it highly amusing that I'd been a holiday rep and begged and tickled my sides until I showed him the photos of me in my uniform of a bright blue polo shirt and tiny white shorts.
"I need a copy of this photo." I watched his eyes widen as he grabbed the phone from my hand and inspect the image closer, "I'd have married you too, you look so fit!" Quickly he turned to me and kissed my cheek, "You look just as fit now, by the way."
I giggled and swiped the screen to show him a second photo but this time I was with Rose. Will's continuous comments about how he'd wanted to sleep with Rose and about how I wouldn't fit in my shorts still echoed in my mind. I couldn't resist the need to see if Harry commented on her too.
"Woah!" he gasped then watched as he zoomed in closer on me, "Is that a tongue piercing?"
I watched his face as he changed the photo back to the one of just me, the dirty smile which played on his lips as he sent it to his phone before turning to look at me, hands sliding up under my top with devilish intent.
"That's going to keep me company on those lonely nights in Australia." Twisting around to position himself over me, Harry kissed me deeply. "I think we need to get you the outfit so I can see it for myself. I never got to go on a proper lads on tour holiday that all my mates are doing, so at least this way I could pretend."
"I think the lads on tour adventures you have 100 percent beat a week in Zante drinking so much and ending up in a&e or pulling some disaster of a girl and fucking in the hotel room you share with 6 other guys."
"Sounds pretty fun to me, actually!" He laughed and kissed me again, "I wouldn't be going after any girl, I'd have my eyes on you."
"Harry, when I was doing that you were 10." I shook my head and ignored the tricky age gap which kept cropping up.
"Well, as you know, I'm particularly fond of the older lady."
Laughing, I shook my head and pushed him away, "You're all kinds of wrong, Styles!"
Wrapping himself back around me, his head resting against my chest, he sighed happily.
"Can I hear the song, when it's ready? Will you tell me which one it is on the album?"
"Are going to listen to the album?"
"I will if you tell me the song."
There was a moment of silence where he simply played with the hem of my top and considered his answer.
"It's called 'Happily'." Tilting his head back to look up at me, green eyes filled with concern over me hearing his work, he promised, "I'll play it for you when it's completely finished."
"I can live with that."
Laying his head back down and going back to playing with my top, we said nothing. I wondered how much the song was inspired by us and Harry wondered if when I heard I'd know he was falling in love.

Notes