There was a different kind of urgency in the way he kissed me, that evening. I felt every part of it - the way he was clinging to the sides of my face as if they may disappear out of reach, otherwise.
It wasn't like I was objecting, by any means - his kisses were something I was definitely well acquainted with, by now - but there was something else in these particular ones. In the whole time I'd known Harry, it was like I'd been able to read so much from the way he kissed me - from the first night time he'd kissed me on the night we met, on that deserted street in London; full of heat and intensity, to every single kiss that followed. Before we'd gotten together, each kiss was so urgent and almost pleading - like we didn't know when we'd get to have another one, and so if we'd caved in, it had to take everything we could give. They'd never lost that spark, even with how frequently we got to have them, now - whether it was a brief kiss in passing, or a lingering one before we parted for him to head out on stage, or even if it was the lightest of pecks against my forehead or my cheek; each one carried enough to make my skin heat.
I remembered the night we'd been out in Las Vegas, early on - when he'd showed up at my hotel room, and we'd ended up sleeping together again. That was when it had gotten heavier, because we knew - both of us - that every single potential string was attached to whatever we did that evening. We could try and sever them with damage control in the days that followed - but it was futile. I'd known, then, that this had more meaning than I wanted to believe; I could feel it in how heavily it weighed on my chest, practically until the time came that I could finally have it again. It would've kept being that way - I was sure of it. It was funny how those strings had felt like some kind of catastrophe - some inevitable collapse, or explosion, and neither of us felt like we could avoid the crossfire.
If I'd thought every string was attached before - this was a new level. This was being with him, completely, and practically binding ourselves to a string that kept us both together; a deliberate submission that we were going to share our lives, as they were, in every way. We'd practically tied those strings with our own hands - it was like I was bound to him, and I never, ever wanted to be cut free.
It wasn't at all as suffocating as I'd imagined it might be. In fact, it was the opposite - Harry seemed to remove every crushing weight from my chest; looking at him felt like fresh air was hitting my lungs for the first time after endless hours of struggling to breathe. Every single time - it was like learning to take a breath; a proper one, a real one.
I was the best kind of breathless, now, however, as he kept my face cradled in his hands. To love somebody like this was endlessly frightening, but I just couldn't stop - that was the part I had to run with. Whether I wanted to, or not, I was going to love him anyway. And it wasn't like he was difficult to enjoy loving.
His fingers pushed into my hair, and I couldn't help but tilt my head back to lean into the touch. He appeared to notice; grinning slightly against my lips as he continued to kiss me. It didn't feel like there was anything left unsaid - for once - our kisses didn't have to make up for everything we couldn't say but rather, now; it reiterated everything we had said.
I leaned in to drop my lips to his neck, but they barely made it there for a second before Harry turned us over so that my back pressed against the mattress. His face buried into my neck as I felt the familiar trail of his lips on my skin, as one of his hands gently drew over my outer thigh, bringing it up to his hip.
"Harry," I whispered, though I wasn't sure I even had words to follow it. His nose nudged against my cheek as he lifted his chin a little, and his hand found the other side of my face.
"I know, baby," he murmured back as he pressed a lingering kiss to my cheek, as if reading whatever it was I was even attempting to convey. I ran my hands over the back of his shoulders as his body pressed onto mine, and I was struck with this incessant need for him to feel how much I loved him - however that may be, I wanted him to feel it. I wanted to feel it, and it seemed like he did, too.
His hands pushed under my dress to take a firmer hold of my outer thighs, and my head began to spin at the sensation. I rested my hand on the nape of his neck, pulling him back in to take more of his kisses, growing easily lost in the way his mouth melted against my own. I loved this; I loved him. I loved the way he made me feel.
I hooked my fingers gently into the band of his sweatpants, but I didn't pull them even an inch. They were the only piece of clothing he had on, and it was a way for me to keep his hips flush with my own - I didn't want any more space between us than this. I wanted to feel him, completely, and I didn't want anything less.
"Can I take this off?" he whispered, tugging lightly on the hem of my dress. He knew what the answer was, but he never hesitated to ask. I nodded hastily, and he pressed another gentle kiss to my throat before he leaned back to guide the material upwards, over my arms and off my body.
I expected him to lean back down to reconnect our lips as soon as my dress was off - but he didn't. He drew back a little, resting an affectionate hand on my stomach before he leaned back enough to support himself. His eyes landed on my body beneath him, trailing from edge to edge - he didn't even touch me; he only looked, drawing his eyes over the entirety of it with his lips slightly parted. I would've felt insecure with such thorough eyes on me, but I knew him. I knew that gaze.
"You're so beautiful," he murmured, then, dipping his head down to attach his lips to the curve of my breast, making my breathing grow shallow for a moment. I watched him, my eyes half-lidded as my fingers found his hair, and he kissed over my ribs and my stomach, down to the edge of my underwear and then back up. His eyes drew over me, and I couldn't help but relish in it - that utterly torturous glint I'd see in his eyes when I'd catch him staring. It was there, now, and it was enough to make my heart thump.
"I love you," I whispered then, watching him lift his head from where it had dipped to kiss me. It felt so good to tell him that - to know that. His chin almost grazed my stomach as he looked up, his eyes flickering from my body to my face, as his lips twitched a little.
"I love you, too," he whispered back, pressing his lips together straight after, as if stifling that boyish grin I'd seen threatening to overtake his features. He pressed another kiss to my abdomen, before he moved back up to connect our mouths again, instantly humming at the contact.
It was different, now - as he pulled off the remainder of my clothes, and I nudged his sweatpants down his thighs. There was something so soft and gentle in every moment - but there was a certainty about it that was stronger than we'd ever had. His hands brushed delicately over my sides as we kissed, his fingers coaxing over my waist to draw my body closer to his.
His hand reached instinctively towards the dresser, but I caught a faint flicker of his eyes as he did so. My mind began to race as I began to ponder our situation, before his eyes landed back on my own, his hand still on the handle of the drawer.
I was on the pill - he knew that. This hadn't even been a point of consideration - at least, not for me, until this very moment - not really. I'd pondered it maybe once or twice; the idea is feeling him without even the thinnest of veils between us - but I'd never found myself wanting it this much.
I looked up at him, and it began to feel like any barrier between us was one I didn't want; every part of us was shared, and our connection ran far deeper than we'd ever expected. We'd always been instinctually extra safe - and that was a good thing, but this was something else - we weren't just seeing each other anymore, and though our largest steps of progress had been taken in the last couple of days, Harry and I had been anything but casual for a long time.
"I want to feel you," I whispered, watching his eyes soften as they trailed over my face, and down to my lips. He wanted it, too - I could see it the moment his eyes locked onto my own, but he wanted to be sure that I did - he'd been waiting for me to say it. Using a condom had never hindered our connection, but I knew that he knew what I meant.
"Are you sure?" he asked in a faint whisper of his own. His eyes were slightly wide, even though I knew he wanted it. He took his hand away from the drawer, bringing it to my cheek. "Really sure?"
"Positive," I whispered back, watching a smile fight its way onto his lips again. I'd been with him countless times, now, but as soon as he leaned down to kiss me in confirmation of what we both wanted - I realised that this would be different from those countless occasions.
He pressed a short kiss to my lips, and then my chin, and my throat - and then another to my lips, again. The heat in the room only seemed to amplify as he lay on top of me, kissing and coaxing his lips over every inch of my face, until my eyes fluttered closed in a pleasure laugh. This was perfect - he was so, so perfect.
His hand fell gently between my legs, sliding smoothly beneath my underwear as it had so many times, now. The feel of his fingers on me never ceased to make my head spin - I'd gaze at them, sometimes, when his hands would rest somewhere in front of me; whether it was on his microphone stand, or on my leg, or holding my own hand - I had a tendency to stare and drink them in. He had the most beautiful hands I'd ever seen; with that little cross tattoo on the patch of skin between his forefinger and his thumb - those bulky rings that practically drowned his fingers, inadvertently drawing some of the attention away from how he'd have his nails painted, almost all of the time. I'd noticed he didn't have a tendency to pick at the polish, much - maybe once, at his stadium show, I'd noticed him grazing his teeth against the black paint, but otherwise, they stayed perfectly manicured. His hands were big, and they matched how tall of an individual he was - he was so often leaning down to bring his lips to my own, or nuzzle against my neck, that it was easy to forget that he had an ability to tower over me.
He was so easy to look at; his body was so easy to feel, and relish in. Each part of him put me into a trance, and it was no different, now, as his hand gently drew over my centre and caused my breath to hitch in my throat. My head tilted back against the pillow as I heard him hum in gentle approval, pressing a soft kiss to my throat.
"Mmn... look at you..." he whispered, and I felt his breath against my jaw as he kissed it, before he moved back to look into my eyes, still gently running his fingers over me. "God, I love you so much..."
It was like now we'd started saying that to one another, we couldn't stop. He couldn't know it enough, and neither could I. Those words felt like they said so, so much - everything I needed to hear, and him to hear, and they sounded so incredibly beautiful coming out his mouth. It was like he couldn't help saying it, now, and it made my heart thump in the best way possible.
Every touch on my body was so tender, even as he slowly pushed his fingers into me. It felt like he knew my body better than I did, sometimes - applying a perfect amount of pressure at the perfect pace, making me writhe a little underneath him as he pressed soft kisses to my hair. My hands drew gently over his shoulders as he leaned in to kiss me, taking and stifling each moan from my mouth as he worked me so perfectly.
After a moment, it became clear that we both wanted more. His body rested between my legs as he leaned down to kiss me again, keeping his weight off me with his hand beside my body, as my own hands held onto the sides of his face. I wanted him impossibly close to me - I wanted every single part of him fused with my own; it was insane.
As soon as I felt him brush himself at my entrance, I felt like I was seeing stars. I could feel his skin - his actual skin - with no obstruction; just warm, and smooth against me. I sucked in a breath, just as he did the same, clearly caught up in this amplified feeling. I had never had sex with somebody without using a condom - we still had protection, now, but we'd just always used one. In my past 'relationship', it had never even crossed my mind- it hadn't, truly, until Harry, when I realised how I wanted to feel him in the same way we'd shared our feelings, now - unbridled, and freely. This feeling, already, was making my toes curl with anticipation.
A low groan fell from Harry's lips as he pushed into me, and my mouth fell open in the very same way. This was unbelievable. I could feel every part of him, unhindered, and there was an instant undeniable bliss in feeling him without any form of barrier - this was like nothing else I'd ever experienced.
It almost made me emotional, feeling his fingers push gently into my hair as he rolled his hips against me. He was slower than I could ever remember him being before - his eyes burning so beautifully into mine as he filled me with the pleasure that he always did; but it was so, so much more now. I'd never realised it could be like this - our sex had always had feeling, even when it wasn't supposed to, but now, I felt like I'd never been more connected to him than I did in this moment.
"God, Iz..." he whispered as his lips found my cheek, not quite kissing it, but lingering there, instead. I let my hands run over his shoulders and his back, my touch gentle as it traced over every flex of his muscles as he drew his hips back and forth, slowly and deliberately. I could feel everything - his warmth, and his arousal - his skin, completely. I'd never felt him, or anybody, like this - with every part of us connected as he lay on top of me and rocked his hips again, and again.
His skin felt so hot beneath my fingers as I pressed my hands against the smooth skin of his back, feeling his chest rise and fall, shuddering with his intense breaths as mine did the very same thing. There was such intensity here - it was shared, and there was such a warmth in knowing he felt it, too. I loved him. I loved him so much.
My fingers weaved into his hair at the nape of his neck as he kept pushing into me in that slow, methodical manner - each push was still firm, and riddled with pure pleasure, but it was slow enough to make sure not a single movement was unfelt or wasted by either of us. We were in this.
"Harry..." I finally mustered the energy to let his name filter through my moans, just as my back arched into his body. His arm came around my waist to cradle my lower back, supporting my body as it rose into his, and he leaned in to kiss me again. I accepted it almost gratefully - gently tugging on his beautiful jaw to keep him close; to make sure I didn't lose this kiss for even a second.
My legs wrapped around his waist to let him keep moving, as I tried to pull him impossibly close to me. I was weak in his hands, feeling him dip his hips repeatedly between my thighs as the most gentle, beautiful sounds and exhales left his lips. His actions felt so deliberately crafted for this very feeling - for us both to share and harbour this unbelievable sense of adoration and this deep connection. He was moving differently from how I'd ever felt him move, as my arm rose to gently wind around his neck and keep our lips connected in a slow, lazy kiss.
He was driving me closer and closer to the edge with every skilful roll of his hips, feeling him push deeper and firmer with every shift of his body, though he never moved particularly fast. He let us feel it - all of it, without a second overshadowed. This was achingly intimate, and it was perfect.
"I love you," I almost whimpered. The words spilled from my lips without me even having to think or coax them through, because they were the truest thing I was sure I'd ever told him. Every part of us was so beautifully connected in this moment - our minds, and our bodies; completely intertwined, and I didn't want it any other way.
His eyes continued burning into my own as I said that, and it caused the fondest twist in my chest to know those words carried through him the same way they carried through me. He almost shook his head a little, and I watched a beautiful smile pull on his lips as he looked down at me.
His face hovered a mere inch from my own, and I reached up to brush his slightly dampened curls from his face, letting my fingers push into them, away from his hairline. His face and lips were flushed, and his eyes were soft and glassy as they peered down into mine. He looked so unbelievably captivating like that, and the view was mine. This was ours - this feeling, and this moment; completely. I couldn't let anybody other than us try and own this.
"I love you, Iz. I promise you'll always know that."
His lips trailed from my own to my cheek, and then to my neck, as he kept rocking himself into me. My body felt like it was on fire, and if it hadn't been for his weight so comfortingly distributed on top of me, then it felt like the butterflies in the pit of my stomach may have carried me away, somehow.
His voice was so delicate as it carried through my ears, and it made my insides ache. I adored him so deeply, and it felt like there'd never be another way to make it clear to him.
"Baby..." his voice came low against my ear, and it sent a shiver up the length of my spine. My back arched into him even more, and I felt him catch the rise of my body with ease, yet again. His face nuzzled briefly against my neck as he continued to push into me, making my body feel simultaneously overwhelmed with the movement, but equally so, so satisfied with the bliss he was giving me.
I was almost done for - with every thrust, it felt like I could come undone beneath him. I could feel his movements growing a little firmer, and I could feel him staying pushed in for a little longer each time. I ran my hand between his shoulder blades as he kissed just below my ear, repeating the word again.
"Baby... should I..." he started, and I was so dizzy with pleasure that it took me a moment to understand what he meant. I felt him slow, and hold himself inside me for a moment - making my toes curl and my thighs quiver, only for me to realise he was trying to hold off for a moment until he had my answer.
"Stay," I whispered back, feeling his muscles flex as he had a clear physical reaction to my words. "I want it... it's okay..."
I trusted him beyond words. Never had I even considered having this with anybody else, but it was now all I wanted from him. I wanted him close, and I knew he wanted it, too - he'd just never want to make me feel like I didn't have a choice, or that I had to lean one way or the other. Harry always, always made sure I had my own choice.
His movements grew a little more urgent as our bodies moved together, and his face buried tight into my neck. I could feel myself approaching my release as he kept moving so perfectly, making my core ache with pleasure and need for him. Our bodies were intertwined in every way as our mouths desperately found each other's again, capturing the moans that the other person breathed out as we both clung onto each other.
I could feel his hands trailing desperately over my sides as he tried to cling onto just about any part of me - his hands moving from my hips, to my waist, and settling in a firm grip on my ribs. My head tilted back into the pillow as his lips landed on my exposed throat, now, mouthing at the skin and letting his tongue draw over it, until I basically lost my mind entirely.
It only took another push of his hips to send me over the edge, and I groaned out against his lips as they found mine again. He kissed me relentlessly as I came undone, as my legs tightened and clenched desperately around his body. This wave of pleasure was like nothing else I'd ever felt - that pressure in the pit of my stomach was filled with so much more than just lust and pleasure. This felt incredible, as it washed over me and it felt like I was floating in his arms - my eyes fluttering shut and my body almost limp against his.
It only took another second to feel him grow even more urgent with his pushes - and then, that sensation. I felt his mouth open against my own as his body fell heavily onto mine, just as a beautiful groan left his lips, and I felt his body tense against my own. All I could feel was a sudden warmth, as I sensed him pulsate alongside the tense of his muscles beneath my hands, and it prompted a soft gasp from my lips. His hips stopped thrusting - he held himself still against me, pushing deeper as I felt him come undone, and it sent a flush of adrenaline through my veins.
I'd never felt closer to him than I did, then - feeling him collapse in a comforting heap on top of my body as we both struggled to catch our breath. He'd given me everything - I could feel that particular warmth in the pit of my stomach, and it made me shiver. He was perfect.
His face buried into my neck as my arms wound tightly around him, a perfect silence between us as we came back down. We were practically hugging, now, as his hand stroked through my hair again, and again, my lips finding his temple as he tried to steady his own breathing.
"Oh my god..." he murmured against my neck, his voice muffled by my skin as he held tightly onto me. He didn't pull out of me, yet, as we both lingered there, wrapped around each other. If there was some kind of peak, this had to be it. It surely couldn't get better than this.
His actions remained tender and gentle as the night drew on - as we eventually unravelled our limbs from each other's, and dragged ourselves into the shower; as we finally crawled back under the covers, our bodies intertwining once more. It was like there wasn't any other choice - there was only being with each other like this; his hands circling my hips as my fingers played with his hair, our lips meeting occasionally and our noses nudging one another's. I'd never felt closer to him - and I'd never been more in love with him.
I couldn't even be sad about leaving the next morning - not yet. Even as I dragged myself out of that bed in the apartment for the last time - those warm, comfortable sheets that now seemed to house so much of mine and Harry's connection - I wasn't upset. My heart didn't seem to cease racing; I was happy.
We'd woken up a little earlier than usual, for the sake of packing. I'd usually have insisted that we packed the night before as I did whenever we travelled, and though he could usually talk me out of it, I hadn't needed much convincing last night. I felt a tiny pang in my chest as I put the last of my things in the suitcase, glancing over at Harry as he sat on the edge of the bed, reaching for my hands to take them in his.
"Come here," he murmured, squeezing my hands and moving up to take my forearms to pull me closer, his hands then finding my waist. I grinned as they looped around me to tug me to stand between his legs, and I watched him press a kiss to my stomach, his hands sliding under my sweatshirt before he pulled me into a hug. I stood between his legs as my arms draped over his shoulders, and I nuzzled my face against his hair, still damp from his morning shower.
"For somebody who constantly lives out of a suitcase, you're a horrible packer," I remarked quietly against his hair, feeling him pinch my hip lightly in response. He turned his head with mine, resting his temple against my chest as I glanced back at his suitcase on the floor, poorly organised.
"I'm sure there are worse traits," he countered, equally soft, but still playful as he pressed another kiss to my stomach. I hummed, feeling his hand smooth over my back.
"You don't have any," I returned, nudging a soft kiss to his forehead as he looked up at me, before I reluctantly pulled away to keep packing. Our things overlapped, now - I could see some of my clothes in his suitcase, and I could see some of his, in mine. I caught his lips twitching into a smile as he watched me walk between the bathroom and our bedroom, gathering more items of ours to pack them.
"I'm going home, anyway," he pointed out after a minute, returning to my comments about his packing. "I'm just going to do a ton of laundry once we're back. So it can be shoved in there, for now."
I sent him a little smile at that. We were going back to his place in California, just as we'd planned before he'd presented me with his idea of going to Italy - but now, we'd actually get to do it. I was sort of starting to relish in the idea of getting to spend more time with him so domestically - it had been so perfect getting to do that here, in this apartment, and I couldn't help but feel excited to get to continue that in his home. I couldn't wait to enter a space that was actually his - to see how he lived when he actually had some real say in it. Italy had given me the most beautiful taste of that, and I finally didn't have any reservations about seeing more of it.
Everything was all packed up, finally, and after spending far too long with our arms wrapped around one another, swaying mindlessly back and forth; we were going to be late for breakfast. I couldn't wait to see everybody again - Grace, in particular. Last night I'd felt almost too overwhelmed to really take it in, and I still did, but I was excited now. With the protocol for the remaining time on our trip being more like the one we had back in the US, it meant that our bags would be taken to the airport ahead of us so that we could get breakfast as a group. All of us would be flying back to California together whilst Grace headed home, and though I didn't want this trip to end, I couldn't help but look forward to getting back to what had become my normal routine, with the others.
We drove away from the apartment complex for the final time, and I almost craned my neck around ridiculously far to keep it in my vision for as long as possible. I was a little sad that I didn't get to see it from the front entrance, again, with us sneaking out of the back for the sake of remaining in private, but the sadness soon wavered as we drew further down the street and back into the city.
I glanced over at Harry, who had a baseball cap on his head and his hood pulled up, with only a couple of his curls peeking out the sides. He had a pair of sunglasses in his lap to pull on, and I watched as he blew out a gentle exhale. He seemed a little uncertain about us all going out to breakfast in broad daylight, with how intense things had grown around the paparazzi in the past couple of days, but I knew it was better for us to be seen out in a group, rather than it would've been for him and me to be seen out, alone. If he were to be recognised in the cafe we were on our way to, then at least it would be with a much wider group of his colleagues, rather than just his girlfriend, who wasn't even publicly his girlfriend.
Everybody was already inside the cafe when we arrived, having fallen a little behind. I'd caught sight of this cafe a couple of times when we'd driven past on the moped, and I thought Harry had noticed and wanted to drive us there in the following days, but we'd obviously had a change of plans. He'd suggested it to me last night, and then sent it onto our group chat with the band whilst I texted Grace about it.
His hand grazed my back as we stepped into the cafe, but he drew it back after a second as if waiting to assess our surroundings, first. That type of thing didn't bother me much - I missed his contact whenever I didn't have it, but I never felt anxious or doubted the reasons behind it.
I spotted Grace first, standing up from the table to hug me as Harry and I approached. It caused a font twist in my chest to see how she'd been conversing with the band so easily when we'd walked in. I caught Harry walking over to Mitch out of the corner of my eye as we hugged.
"Hey," she grinned as we swayed back and forth in a tight hug, her arms squeezing around me. There was the best kind of familiarity in her hugs - they were the most stable and comforting pair of arms I'd known for so much of my life, and I hadn't realised how much I'd truly missed them until we'd been reunited. "How was the rest of last night?"
I exhaled, moving a piece of hair out of my face as a smile started to force its way onto my lips. How could I even sum it up? Before I could, Harry had approached us and was resting his hand on the small of my back again. After he and Grace said their hello's, he turned to me.
"What do you want to eat?" he asked, and I glanced at the table to see everybody with their own coffees and pastries. I looked over at the service counter.
"I can go and get it," I returned, mainly for the sake of saving him from the chance of being recognised, but he shook his head, lightly stroking his fingers where his hand rested on my back.
"No, no. I'll go. Do you want me to just get a bunch of things?" he asked, and I smiled, nodding at his tendency to always pick food based on what we could share. He kissed my temple before he walked away - of course, not before checking if the entire table wanted anything else, in the most typical, endearing Harry fashion. I couldn't help but watch him as he walked away, before I turned back to Grace, catching the smile on her lips from how she'd been watching us interact.
"It was perfect..." I told her softly, and her eyes met mine. We were silent for a moment before tilted her head a little, her eyes gently widening, and I nodded, silently confirming the answer to her unspoken question.
"No way," she whispered, and I bit my lip. I wasn't sure why I felt so emotional all over again, but it felt like every time I really thought about it all - I did. I loved him so much, and it felt endlessly good to finally realise it and share it with him. I'd never felt so secure with where I was with somebody, or with myself - everything felt so perfect, that I'd usually fear the worst was on its way. But this time - for the first time - I didn't fear that at all.
I could picture it, now - that time I'd recalled so often during my time on tour; when Grace and I had sat on my bed, once, and I'd insisted that if things felt too good to be true, that they probably were. She'd insisted that it didn't mean being naïve, but sometimes - things could really just be good. It felt like I finally knew what she was talking about.
I finally sat down at the table, next to Elin and opposite Grace, leaving space for Harry beside me. I glanced over at him, lined up to order, and I noticed him hunched over a little. A fond smile fought its way onto my lips as I noticed that he was interacting with a dog - not even with its owner - but just the dog; stroking its fur between his fingers and letting it adorably sniff and examine his bare knees. It caused my heart to thump, just watching him silently bond with the animal, and I realised I loved those parts of him just as much as anything else. Even the dog recognised how beautiful the energy surrounding him was, I supposed - it was magnetic.
I finally tore my eyes away, meeting Grace's expectant ones. She laughed softly - teasingly - but it wasn't condescending.
"God, look at you. All in love..." she remarked, and I rested my chin in my hand, a bashful smile on my lips as Elin chimed in from beside me with a teasing comment of her own. For the first time, at least, like this - I couldn't deny it one bit.