One (favorite so far) more because you are all the best and I love you :) x

"Hey, Joey," he answered happily, no way of knowing the state I was in.

"Harry?" I managed to choke out.  Immediately, his tone shifted to one of concern.

"Joey? What's wrong? What is it?" he asked anxiously, clearly hearing the distress in my voice.  I hiccupped once, tasting the alcohol coming back up my throat. 

"Ha-Harry, can you come get me?" I asked pitifully before thinking that it was late, it was a lot to ask, he was probably busy, and a million other reasons why he wouldn't.  Why he shouldn't. 

"Yes, of course, where are you?" he replied instantly, not a second thought to be had.

"Oh, thank you, Harry, you're," hiccup, "you're the best."  I tried to stem the tears leaking from my eyes, but they just kept rushing past my fingers, gravity pulling them down.

"Joey, where are you?" he asked again, more persistent this time. 

"I'm at Lydia's house," I told him, realizing he probably had no idea where that was.

"Do you know the address, babe?" All I could register was the fact that he had called me babe.  My heart fluttered.

"Did you just," hiccup, "did you just call me babe?" I sniffled a little, my drunken state making things extremely difficult.

A sigh from Harry could be heard on the other end of the line.  "Yes, Joey, now do you know the address?" Patient.  He was always so patient.

"Umm... no.  I'm walking, hang on," I said, approaching a corner to read the street signs.

"You're walking? Joey, it's freezing out, go back inside!" he said, sounding more authoritative than I'd ever heard him.

"No, I don't like those people," I said, hearing the pathetic whine in my own voice. 

"Joey..." he said, growing exasperated with me.  "Please go back inside?" he pleaded.  I could hear him shuffling around before the slam of a car door sounded.  Coming to my rescue.

"No, Harry, I'm fine, it's hot out," I lied, rather unconvincingly because as I said it my teeth started to chatter. 

"Ugh, fine.  Do you know where you are yet?" I heard him start his car.

"Um, I'm on..." I squinted up at the street signs, trying to read them. "8th and Dover."

"I'm on my way.  Just stay on the phone with me, okay?" he replied.

"Okay," I said, wrapping my free arm around myself.  It really was very cold outside.  If I had thought for two seconds before bolting out of the party, I could have grabbed my jacket and overnight bag.  But with my newfound hatred for everyone in the house and Harry being on his way, there was no way I was going back. 

"I'm sorry for calling you, Harry," I told him.  I'm sure he had much better things to be doing than picking up an emotional drunk girl on a random corner.

"No, Joey, don't worry.  You can always call me," he reassured me.  I let out a long sigh.

"You're too nice to me, Harry," I said, letting the alcohol do the talking, wiping my fingers under my eyes one last time.  I could only imagine what a wreck I must look like. 

"Hush," was all he said.  Suddenly I could see headlights of a car pulling around the corner. 

"Is that you?" I asked, squinting my eyes at the large black SUV that was coming towards me, alcohol making the lights swim.

"Yes," he said just as it pulled to a stop next to me.  I rushed toward the passenger door before flinging it open and throwing myself in.  The car was much warmer than outside, and I immediately let out a sigh of relief.  I turned to look over at Harry, who was studying me with a look of concern and a hint of confusion.

"Thank you, Harry," I said, pressing my back into the seat, arms still wrapped around myself, only my head not facing forward. 

"Here," he said, ignoring my thanks and tearing off the hoodie he was wearing before handing it to me.  The fabric was soft and warm, light grey in color and smelling exactly of him.  Gratefully, I pulled it over my head and immediately felt ten times better.  I looked across the console at him with a smile that didn't reach my eyes.  He gave me a sad look, not understanding why I was so upset before starting to drive again. 

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly, keeping his eyes on the road.

"I think so," I said honestly.  A few minutes ago, the answer would have been a firm 'no,' but now that I was safely in his car with him, I was a lot better.  "My hand hurts."

"What? Why?"

"I punched Colt."

"You what?" he asked, looking shocked.

"I punched him," I repeated.

"Why?"

"'Cause he's a dick," I said simply, not wanting to repeat what he had said to me.

He snuck a quick glance over at me before swallowing.  He looked like he did when I saw him earlier; no glasses, messed up hair.  Now that I had claimed his sweatshirt, he was wearing a simple grey t-shirt and dark grey sweatpants. 

"Do you want to talk about what happened?" he asked, eyes facing straight ahead again, giving me the privacy to decide if I wanted to answer or not. I was quiet for a few seconds before responding.

"No," I said honestly.  Now that I was with him, I didn't want to think about the party or Colt or any of that.  I just wanted to be with him. 

"Okay," he said simply, accepting my answer immediately.  In a sudden rush of appreciation for him, I reached my hand across the seats to slide it beneath his, which was resting on his thigh.  The muscles in his leg tensed for a second before he curled his fingers up, sliding them through the spaces between mine soothingly.  He grasped my hand then, his palm pressing into the back of my hand, and I gripped his fingers. 

"Can I come over for a bit?" I asked, sure he would say no.  I had already asked for a lot tonight, and this was pushing it.

"Of course," he said, running his thumb along the side of my hand.  He had just pulled onto our street when I started to feel dizzy from the alcohol still buzzing through my blood.  I groaned slightly as I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to ward off the sickening feeling.  "We're here, Jo," he said lightly before popping his seatbelt and jumping out of the car, my hand sliding out of his.  Retracting my arm, I fumbled with the seatbelt clasp I didn't even remember putting on in the first place. 

Clumsy from drinking, my fingers wouldn't coordinate how I wanted to press the button and free myself.  I just about had it when my door opened and Harry's tall frame leaned in front of me, long fingers releasing my buckle with ease.  He guided the seat belt back to its holder before wrapping one hand around my forearm and the other around my waist, helping me out of the car so I wouldn't stumble down.  He was so gentle with me, as if afraid I would break.  He released my arm when my feet steadied on the ground, but his other arm stayed wrapped around my waist, settled on my hip to guide me up the porch.  My arm roped around his lower back, hand settling on his sharp hipbone.

I didn't say anything until he had the door open and had marched us through.  Turning to face me, he placed both hands on my shoulders as if to check that I was balanced before kneeling down and unbuckling my boots. I rested my hands on his shoulders to steady myself, not sure what he was doing. Gingerly gripping around my knee in his massive hand, he lifted up my right leg and pulled my shoe off before repeating the process with the other so I now stood in my socks.  Standing back up to his full height, he smiled at me softly.

"Water?" he asked, as if knowing exactly what I needed.

"Yes please," I said, too loudly.  I clasped my hand over my mouth clumsily, shushing myself.

"Don't worry, my mom and sister are still gone," he reassured me, leading me into the kitchen.  I let out a small sigh of relief as my feet padded softly on the floor as I followed him.  Letting out one final, small hiccup, I pushed myself up to sit on his counter as he busied himself with getting me water.  After pulling a glass from the cupboard and filling it, he brought it over to where I was perched.  I gratefully accepted it, clutching it with both hands as I lifted it to my lips and took a long sip. 

"Thank you, Harry," I said.  I could never thank him enough times.  He just smiled at me, looking into my eyes.  I smiled back.  After a few long moments of this, he nodded at the glass in my hands.

"Drink up," he instructed.  He stood close in front of me, hips leaning into my knees, fingers fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt, one of the first hints of nerves I had seen from him tonight.  I did as he said, draining the glass, knowing it would be for the best later on.  Satisfied, he took the glass and placed it in the sink before returning to his spot in front of me.  "Come on."  He gripped my waist again with both of his large hands, fingers covering the expanse of my back before lifting gently and helping me off the counter. 

Walking next to me, he lightly placed his hand on the small of my back, leading me up the stairs, uncharted territory for me.  He ushered me to the very end of the hall before opening the door that could only lead to his room.  Looking around, I immediately knew I was right, although my eyes were too blurry to take in any details.  Gently, he walked me over to sit down on his bed before turning around and walking over to a dresser.  He pulled out some shorts before walking back over to me.

"Um," he started nervously, fiddling with the clothing in his hands. "If you'd like to change, you can.  I don't know if you want to hang out in your jeans... or... um..." he trailed off, nerves getting the better of him as his face tinted pink in embarrassment.  Adorable. 

"Yes, please," I said, reaching for the shorts.  He handed them to me and nodded before turning sharply on the spot and heading toward the door.  "You don't have to leave," I said, feeling not in the slightest shy at the moment. 

"Oh, no, I'll go.  Just... call when you're done," he said, opening the door and sliding out, clearly terrified to be in the same room as an even partially naked girl.  I giggled slightly at his bashful modesty.  Clumsily, I fought my way out of my skinny jeans before pulling on the shorts he had given me.  Suddenly feeling very confined by my top, I ripped off his sweatshirt before pulling off my shirt, leaving me in just my bra as I pulled his sweatshirt back on.  Perfect. 

Instead of calling to him as he had requested, I stumbled my way over to the door, pulling it open gently.  I discovered him pacing quietly in the hallway, looking a little surprised as I stood there in his clothes, beckoning him back inside.  He followed me back through the door as I sat back down on his bed.  A yawn escaped me before I could stop it.  I really was very tired.

"Harry, thank you so much, for everything," I said, wishing I could better express how grateful I was. 

"You're welcome," he said, hesitantly starting to walk towards me before pausing again, a few feet away from his bed. 

"I don't want to go home," I said abruptly.  "My mom thinks I'm staying at Lydia's but if I come home I'll have to explain why..." I trailed off, puzzling to myself what I could say to her to explain without telling her the truth.  These weren't the kinds of things I talked to my mother about. 

"You can stay here," he offered kindly, eyes darting up from where they had been focused on the floor to meet mine.

"Really? You sure you wouldn't mind?" I asked, touched by his sincere offer.

"Yeah, I mean no, I mean, I'm sure I don't mind if you stay here," he said, tripping over his words as his eyes flicked around the room. 

I smiled slowly at him, lips closed together.  "You're really the sweetest person I've ever met."  Yes, I was drunk, and yes, I was very tired, but I meant every word.  There was no doubt in my mind I had never come across someone so genuine and kind.  He just blushed before crossing the few feet expanse between us, standing, toweringly, over me once again.  Lightly trailing his knuckles across my cheek before resting his hand below my ear, he leaned down to kiss me gently on the forehead.

"Lie down, get some sleep," he said softly.  I obeyed, struggling to pull the covers down from his neatly made bed.  Helping me, he freed the blankets and helped me snuggle underneath them.  There was still plenty of room in the bed for him, and I already felt bad for all he had done for me that I couldn't possibly take his entire bed. 

"Come lie with me," I requested quietly, eyelids already feeling heavy.

"Oh, um," he stuttered, nervous again. "No, it's okay, you can have the bed."

"Harry that's ridiculous, there's plenty of room." I could hear him swallow harshly.

"I'll be fine, Joey," he promised me.

"Then will you at least sit with me for a while?" I asked, eyes drifting shut before I jerked them back open, not wanting to fall asleep but feeling the alcohol and exhaustion starting to pull me under.

"Okay," he said.  Soon after he said so I could feel the other side of the bed sag as he sat down, crawling up and leaning against the headboard.  After a small hesitation, his hand softly came to rest on the crown of my head, stroking my hair soothingly.

I smiled contentedly, eyes closed, world slowly shutting down around me.  "Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight, Joey," he said.  How nice his fingers felt combing softly through my hair was the last thing I thought of as I fell deeply asleep.

***

When I woke up, the sunlight was streaming across my face in an unfamiliar way.  Squinting my eyes open, I took in a surprised gasp before I remembered everything that had happened the night before.  The drinking, the party, the glass shattering, the fight with Colt, the threatening look in his eye.  Then the cold walk, the phone call, Harry picking me up, giving me his clothes, and taking better care of me than anyone ever had. 

Sitting up from the bed slightly, I could feel the pounding of a headache already setting in.  I noticed I was very much alone in the bed, so I looked around the room.  There, on the floor, resting on a thin blanket and pillow, covered with only a sweatshirt, lay Harry.  He looked cold, arms crossed tightly in front of him, knees bent and brought close to his chest.  His face, however, looked relaxed, innocent, vulnerable.  Lips parted slightly, just as they had been the last time I caught him sleeping, and hair ruffled around his head in a type of halo, he looked beautiful. 

Glancing at the clock, I noticed it was only just after seven.  While I didn't want to wake him, I didn't want him to continue sleeping on the ground when I had already stolen his bed for the entire night.  Just as I had been last night, I was more than willing to share, especially after all he had done for me.  Not sure of how to wake him, I decided to try calling out to him.

"Harry," I whispered, not exactly sure why I was doing so since we were home alone.  He stirred slightly, but didn't wake. "Harry!" I repeated, a little louder this time.  His face scrunched up, as if he had heard me but was resisting waking up.  He groaned a little, nuzzling his face deeper into his pillow.  I giggled a little bit; he was like a child who didn't want to go to school.  "Harry!" I said yet again, the loudest of all now.  His eyes finally popped open, almost immediately squinting back shut, trying to ward off the sunlight. 

"Morning," he said, voice gravellier than I had ever heard it, rumbling through his chest. He stretched out his long limbs, surely feeling tight after being clamped together so long.

"Come up here, silly," I said, feeling that the sooner he climbed into bed, the better.  I expected him to protest, as he had last night, but he didn't say anything.  Rolling onto his stomach, he placed his hands on the floor before pushing himself up, the sweatshirt he had used as a blanket falling to the carpet.  He was still wearing the sweatpants and white t-shirt he had been when he picked me up. 

The same t-shirt that was now riding up slightly, revealing a strip of taught stomach.  Still lying on one side of the bed, I rolled my body so I was facing the middle, watching him as he lifted the covers and climbed in next to me, laying down so he, too, was facing the middle.  He closed his eyes immediately after laying down sighing softly at the comfort of his own bed.

"Good morning," he said, voice thick with sleep yet.

"Good morning," I replied, smiling softly.  He opened his eyes just the tiniest bit to look across the sheet at me.  "You really didn't have to sleep on the floor," I said, feeling guilty not only for practically inviting myself over, but for taking his bed as well.

"Don't worry, carpet's comfier than it looks," he said thickly, giving me a lopsided, close lipped smile.  His dimple appeared on his cheek.

"I think you're probably lying, but thank you for everything last night," I said sincerely, meeting his gaze.

"You've already thanked me several times," he reminded me.

"Yeah well every time I try you just shrug or do something else sweet, so shut up.  Thank you," I chided him, grinning.  My headache already didn't seem so bad with him near me. 

He reached a hand up to rub one of his eyes before blinking a few times.  "You're welcome, Joey."

"I just... I just couldn't stay there last night and you were the first person I thought to call so..." I trailed off, trying to explain.  He just looked at me patiently as I struggled for what to say next.  "I just trust you."

"Well, um," he started, eyes darting around, not sure what to say.  "I... I'm glad."

I peered at him intently.  I had to ask.  "Do you trust me?"

He paused, eyes settling down to search my face, thinking.  I started to feel a blush creep on my cheeks.  Why had I asked that?  Surely he didn't; my friends had been nothing but rude to him for who knows how long, and I'm sure he saw me as just as bad.  Or used to see me, anyway.

"I do," he said, seeming surprised at his own answer. 

"Really?" I asked, suddenly feeling elated.  He nodded sincerely, green eyes looking into mine.  I felt the smile pull across my face, crinkling up the corners of my eyes.  Noticing his hand laying innocently in the space between us, I reached out until my fingers combed down the back of it.  Slowly, he turned his hand over so his palm was facing up, mirroring mine.  Our fingers tangled together gently, skin electrifying at even the slightest touch. 

My eyes focused on our hands, weaving together, coming apart, and weaving together again in the slowest, most excruciating way possible.  Watching his large palm and long fingers fiddling with my much smaller hands made my stomach tie itself to knots.  I could feel my breathing getting heavier as I slowly slid my gaze from our hands, across the navy sheet, and up his neck before connecting with his own, which had been set on me long before I had realized.  Breath catching in my throat, I bit my lip gently before sliding myself closer to him, hoping he wouldn't shy away.  He didn't.  He simply watched me, eyes never leaving my face as I inched closer and closer. 

When I finally settled, his hand had pulled from mine to gently reach out to brush a few hairs off my face.  He then ran his fingertips along my jaw and down my neck, torturously slow.  Every time he touched me I felt like my skin was going to ignite.  My hand, which had previously been occupied with his, trailed lightly across the front of his chest, coming to rest over his heart, which I could feel pounding erratically through the thin material of his shirt.  I was certain mine felt the exact same. 

Never in my life had such simple actions from a boy made me feel so out of control.  His hand paused on my neck, always so careful when he touched me, not wanting to accidentally brush somewhere he thought he shouldn't.  Little did he know that there was already hardly anything I'd stop him from doing.  His inexperience, though, made him extremely hesitant, anxious, cautious, never wanting to make the first move.  He was pure. 

Pulling my hand from his chest, I slid it across his arm and up to the back of his hand where it rest lightly on my neck.  Slowly, I tugged on his until he realized I wanted it to move, eyes widening in apprehension.  I could hear my pulse thudding in my ears as I moved his hand down to hover over my heart, the expanse so large that his fingertips reached the curve of my collarbone while his palm rested slightly on the curve of my breast.  Giving his hand a final squeeze, I pressed it between my palm and my chest, wanting him to feel my heart pounding.  To feel what he did to me.  To show him that I, too, was affected just as deeply as he was.  He seemed to realize what my intentions were and relaxed slightly,

"Feel that?" I asked quietly, feeling the need to whisper in such close proximity.

He nodded, eyes looking down to our hands over my heart before sliding back up to my face. 

"That happens every time I'm near you," I said honestly, wanting him to know what he did to me.  An intense look came over his face as he opened his mouth to speak, then closed it.  Instead, he pulled his hand from my chest, taking mine with him, and placed it over his own heart again, mimicking what I had just done to him. 

"This is what you do to me," he admitted, eyebrows knitted together making him look extremely vulnerable.  A steady thumping could be felt, just as strong as it was the first time I felt it, if not more so.  I held his gaze for a few moments, reveling in the fact that we both had such a great affect on each other.  Unable to hold out any longer, I leaned across the tiny space still separating us, pressing my lips to his.  Leaving my hand against his chest, he reached up and brought his hand to the side of my face, pulling me in even closer. 

It was the fastest he had ever reacted to me kissing him.  Such intense emotion flowed between us in that moment that I never wanted to get out of bed, never wanted to take my hand from his chest, never wanted the sun to fully rise and ruin this perfect morning.  The feeling of his lips molding against my own, gentle in every movement, was something I was certain I would never get used to.  Soft patterns were traced across my face by his thumb as his other fingers wound themselves into my hair at the base of my neck.  T-shirt clenched in my palm, I was unable to stop my other fist from sliding up and joining my other one, grabbing even more of his t-shirt, attempting to pull him even closer to me. 

My neck strained as I held my head up, offering more freedom to move around as he kissed me deeply, tongue snaking into my mouth.  Just like the last time we had kissed, what started out as slow, gentle movements escalated into an urgent and needy affair.  Sliding from his chest up to his neck, my hands finally released their death grip on his shirt, the skin there feeling extremely soft in contrast to the cotton of his top. 

Not sure when it had happened, I discovered that my legs hand tangled with his, my left leg hitched fully over his hip, pulling him tighter against me.  He didn't seem to mind, however, because his hand slid down from my face, along my side until coming to rest on my lower back, arm flexing as he hugged me closer to him as well.  My breathing had sped up considerably, and I had a hard time catching my breath as our lips shaped against each other's.  I tugged lightly at his bottom lip with my teeth, pulling back for a second before releasing it and letting out a hot breath, pausing to watch his chest rise and fall rapidly against my own. 

I smirked lightly at the dark look in his eyes, pupils huge in the early morning light.  Missing the feel of his lips already, I dove back in, connecting our mouths once again.  When his tongue pushed its way into my mouth, I couldn't help but let out a slight moan.  My body reacted on its own when I ground my hips closer to his, needing contact.  It was then that I felt him for the third time, growing hard as our hot bodies pressed together. 

Encouraged by his bold behavior so far, for him at least, I captured his full lower lip between mine one last time before pulling back a bit and pushing lightly on his right shoulder, forcing him to lay flat on the mattress.  His breathing continued heavily, chest rising and falling harshly as he obeyed my actions, holding my eye contact.  My leg was still draped over his lap as I brought my right arm up to support myself, left hand briefly tracing the outline of his lips as I leaned over him before running across his cheekbones and sliding down his neck. 

Leaning down to meet him, we pressed our lips together, instantly opening them to allow our tongues to slide against one another.  Trailing my hand down from his neck, it roamed across his chest toward his stomach.  His solid chest muscles morphed easily into firm abdominal muscles that could be felt clearly through his shirt.  Pulling back slightly, I shot him an impressed look before dragging my lips along his jaw back to his ear.  Wanting to feel more of him, I slid my hand under his shirt, feeling the velvet soft skin that covered his stomach.  The outlines of his abs could easily be felt, and I ran my fingers along the edges. 

He let out a soft breath as I nibbled on his ear lobe, tugging lightly before swiping my tongue across the edge.  His left hand tangled in my hair at the back of my head while his right slid up and down my arm, grazing the skin lightly with his thumb nail.  The feeling of it sent a shiver down my spine, causing me to press my leg firmly against his growing bulge.  He groaned at the feel, softly pushing his hips up into the contact.  Whether that was on purpose or not, I didn't know. 

Suddenly I felt him sweep my hair back from my neck, cool air that rushed in quickly being replaced by his full lips, sponging soft kisses along my sensitive skin, mimicking what I had previously done to him.  When I felt his warm tongue dart out and caress my neck, I about lost it.  Rolling my head to the side, I reveled in the magic his mouth was working on the side of my neck with so little practice and experience. 

He had to be going strictly on instinct, an instinct that was not failing him in the slightest.  As he sucked lightly on my neck, I straightened out my leg, sliding it slightly off his hip, the friction causing him to moan slightly against my skin.  Wanting to give him opportunity to stop me if he so desired, I slowly slid my hand down from his stomach, hesitating when it met the hem of his boxers that stuck out maybe an inch above the waist of his sweats. 

He didn't stop me, so I ran my fingers under the band of his underwear, skin softer than ever, discovering a dark trail of hair that led down from his belly button.  I could hear his breath exhale quickly from his mouth, warm air blowing across the side of my neck where his mouth had been attending to.  Wanting to ease him into it, I pulled my fingers out from under the band and slid my hand down his hip, over the outside of his sweats and rested them on his upper thigh before turning my face back to him, wanting his lips on my own again. 

He looked at me, licking his lips slowly, scared yet determined look in his eye.  Something else was there, too; lust.  The muscles in his neck strained as he lifted his head, pressing his lips to mine, meeting in a hungry kiss.  Taking his action as permission, I slid my hand off of his thigh over the bulge in his pants.  As soon as my hand came into contact with him, he sucked in a breath around my lips, mouths open and pressed against each other but no longer kissing.  My jaw almost dropped in shock as I felt the massive size of him.  Even through the fabric of his sweats, I was positive he was bigger than anyone I had ever experienced.  As I continued to move my hand against him, his breath came out in pants, the entire experience completely new to him. 

His hand in my hair tightened its grip as his other hand, now lying by his side, fisted the sheets tightly.  He tried to focus on kissing me, lips pushing against mine at an unsteady pace, tongue occasionally running against mine, but the more I massaged my hand, the harder it became for him to do so.  Even without directly touching him, I could tell he was quickly approaching his end; his breath came faster, shorter, and he struggled to release the grip he had on my hair and the sheet.  When my palm slid down his entire length and back up, pressing down lightly against him, he let out a low groan that I could feel against my lips. 

Before I knew what I was doing, I pulled my hand from the front on his sweats and slid it beneath the outer fabric and his boxers, now able to feel him much easier.  He let out a stream of air through his nose, biting his lip while I moved my lips to trail kisses down his neck before sucking lightly against his skin.  With my hand now only separated from him by a thin piece of cloth, I knew he wouldn't last much longer. 

Moving my mouth down to his glorious collarbone, I sucked more harshly the area the harder I massaged my hand against him, my mouth bringing blood to the surface of his skin before I ran the flat of my tongue across it, soothing the sting, sure to leave a mark.  I could feel his body tensing up beneath me, and with one final caress of my hand, he squeezed his eyes shut, letting out the loudest groan I had earned from him yet, a flush creeping up his face as he finished. 

A small wet spot could be felt through the fabric of his boxers as I stroked him one last time through the material before bringing my hand up to the side of his face, pulling him in to kiss me one last time before resting my chin on his chest, looking up at him.  His hands had finally released their firm grips, though I had hardly noticed him tugging on my hair.  Eyelashes rested on the tops of his cheeks as he let out a few staggered breaths through slightly parted lips, head resting on his pillow.  I stroked my fingers across his cheekbones softly, waiting for him to gather himself and open his green eyes, small smile playing on my lips. 

When he did open his eyes, they had returned to their usual emerald green color, the darkness lust had instilled in him gone.  He looked at me with a slightly overwhelmed expression, raising his eyebrows before blowing out a breath and smiling at me, as if he didn't believe what had just happened was real.  Incredulous was a good word for it. 

"Holy shit," was all he said, heart still pounding in his chest beneath my chin.  My smile grew wider as he slowly started to come down from his high. 

"Was that alright?" I asked, thinking I probably should have inquired sooner.

"Um, yes.  That was definitely alright," he said, laughing slightly as he spoke.  I grinned as I leaned up quickly, pressing a light kiss to his lips before snuggling myself into his side between his chest and his arm, which was wrapped around me.  It was still early, giving us plenty of time to lie there and do whatever we wanted.  I could tell he was starting to get sleepy again when his breathing started to even out, now inhaling long, deep breaths opposed to the shallow, quick ones he had been taking earlier. 

He tightened his arm around me, placing a kiss to the top of my head before pulling the covers, which had hastily been kicked off, back over top of us.  I sighed contentedly, more than happy to cuddle with him under his blankets.  I was still plenty tired, especially now that we had finished fooling around in his bed.  My eyelids started drifting down as I threw my arm across his stomach, hugging him to me.

"Will you stay?," he mumbled, sleep clearly about to pull him under as well. 

Eyes closed, face pressed into the front of his chest and arms hugging him to me, I smiled.  I never wanted to leave.  The way his arm curved around my back felt too perfect to be a coincidence.  Surely this was exactly where I was supposed to be at this exact moment.  He may have already been asleep by the time I happily exhaled and nuzzled my face into his chest one more time before replying, "Always."

What do you guys think? I know (sexually) things are going slowly (for now) but I feel that's how my Harry would actually be, so I wanted it to be as realistic as possible :) x