Annabel moans lightly and shifts a little in her sleep. Her dream has just turned from something relatively normal to a sex dream and she doesn't really mind it. She doesn't know that it's not just a dream though. Harry's awake already and he's bored and horny, so he's decided to take matters into his own hands.

Getting himself off is something that he hates to do and since Annabel is right there and she never tells him no, he decides to give her a very nice wake up call. He's between her legs for about a minute when she finally wakes up, the pressure that's building in her lower stomach is too much too ignore.

She yawns and tries to rub her eyes, but her hands catch before she moves them very far. Annabel shifts slightly and realizes that her hands are tied to the bed and that Harry's got his head between her legs.

His thumb is pressing on her sensitive spot and she practically squirms after she wakes up and her senses adjust.

"Well, shit. Good m-morning to you too."

Harry chuckles against her and Annabel writhes a little more, her hands pulling at the rope constricting her movements. She likes that he's tied her up, but she loves touching him and it's making her antsy because she knows that he's not just going to get right to what she wants.

He stops his pleasure filled assault for a moment to give her a devilish grin. "Good morning."

Annabel smiles and rolls her eyes, "Enjoying your breakfast?"

There's a glint to his eyes as he adjusts his elbows a little so that he's comfortable, "Oh yes, it's quite lovely. Would you like a taste?"

Annabel laughs and shifts slightly, "I'm alright. What's with the rope?"

Harry shrugs and licks his lips, "Thought we'd try something new today."

She tugs again because her wrists have started to hurt, "I like it, but I like being able to touch you."

"Trust me, I do like that too, but this is fun and I want to make you crazy without letting you touch me this time. Just to change things up a little." He pauses for a second because he's not entirely sure that she's comfortable with it. "If you don't like it, I can untie you. Just tell me."

Annabel smiles, she's happy that he's given her an option, but she actually likes being tied down and the pain that's starting to blossom on her wrists. The only issue that she has with it is the fact that she can't touch him with her hands and she thinks that being able to touch him is one of the best things about their sex life.

"Stop talking and finish what you've started."

Harry stares at her for a long moment, the edges of his lips curving further upward, "Whatever you want, sweetheart."

Except that it isn't. He has no intentions of letting her off easily or letting her get what she wants right away. Today is it's his time to play and he's going to take full advantage of it.

He teases her with his fingers first, slowly and torturously massaging her bundle of nerves before gradually edging her to a high that he never lets her have.

Annabel writhes against her restraints and begs him to let her finish. Harry absolutely loves it when she's needy like this, begging him for more and shamelessly opening herself up to him.

A devilish smile takes hold of his lips, "Now, why would I do that darling? It's so much better like this, when I have you begging for me to touch you."

She whines in response and bucks her hips up as he grinds against her. "Please just shut the hell up and fuck me."

Harry pretends that he doesn't hear her and continues to roll his hips against hers while he leaves love bites down her neck and over her breasts. He's still got his boxers on, but they're getting uncomfortable the longer that he keeps himself constrained.

Annabel's already ready for him and he can feel it through the thin fabric as he continues to tease her.

She hates this, he knows that she does, but it's so god damn satisfying to see her helpless beneath him, writhing in pleasure and anticipation as she begs for him to take her. And its practically life changing when he doesn't let her cum like this. God, the look on her face and the volume that her voice reaches when he finally gives her what she wants...that's something he could get off to.

He stops the movement of his hips to rid himself of his boxers. Annabel's looking at him with her bottom lip between her teeth and lustful eyes. She wants to treat him to another blowjob, but he's not in the mood for it today even though he loves how eager she always is to give him one.

"Not today sweetheart."

Annabel practically groans and sinks back into the mattress. She's done begging now because it's clear that he's about to give her what she wants. By the looks of it, he won't last very long if he continues to torture her with pleasure.

She's completely wrong though. Harry continues his teasing, running his tip against her and gliding on her instead of actually penetrating her.

Annabel bucks her hips against him and he retracts.

"I hate you."

Harry laughs and resumes his actions, this time granting her the benefit of mild penetration. "We both know that's a lie."

His hands hold her hips down as she closes her eyes and sighs. It isn't completely what she wants, but it's something.

A few moments pass before he adds his thumb to help build the pressure and Annabel moans his name.

He's kissing her neck tenderly now, "What do you want, baby?"

"You. Oh God, please fuck me, Harry."

This time he lets her push her hips forward as he sinks into her, a heavy sigh passing her lips as a moan escapes from his. Driving her crazy drives him crazy and it feels so good to finally get to the good part.

He rests his head on her shoulder as he drives into her slowly, feeling her clench around him with each little motion. It's been a few days since they've done this and he can certainly tell that she feels it.

Gentle moans pass her lips as he swivels his hips and increases his pace. It's nice to take things slow, but he's pretty close from all of that teasing and the time for fucking around has vanished.

Annabel's wrists are red and burning from the rope and the sight only furthers his arousal. He'd been thinking about doing this for a while, but now that it's actually happening, he wishes that he'd been doing it all along.

"You're so good to me."

Annabel replies with a whine as he leans forward a little more so that he's hitting both of her most sensitive areas. She's practically writhing beneath him, whimpering his name and following it with a string of curse words and a lengthy moan.

Suddenly he's overwhelmed by the urge to dig into her veins and set her beautiful red essence free. He's not even thinking as he reaches over and grabs the blade from the dresser. She knows what he's doing, but she's far too caught up in the waves of pleasure spreading through her body to really give him any mind.

It's been coming for a long time now and she doesn't exactly mind going out this way. Especially if he's the one taking her life.

He's there and he's not all in the same breath. Almost like he's having some sort of out of body experience.

Harry sees his hand raise to her neck, the blade glinting in the sunlight just before it touches her skin and slices right through the delicate tissue.

The red is everywhere. Annabel's looking up at him with a gentle smile even though there's a deep cut in her throat that's releasing her life blood as if it were a fountain.

Suddenly he snaps out of it, his mind crashing back into reality like a meteor falling to earth.

He drops the blade immediately, eyes wide as panic starts to consume him.

"Annabel...I...no. No! Baby, I'm sorry! Please don't go. I didn't mean it...I didn't mean it! Annabel!"

Harry rushes to untie her and wrap something tightly around her neck, but not tight enough to choke her because that would defeat the purpose. He wants to call for an ambulance, but that will take too long and he doesn't have time to waste.

Just like the last time, he rushes her to the car and speeds to the hospital in a panicked desperation to save her life.

This is what he's been afraid of. This is what's been haunting his dreams and keeping him away from her all week.

Harry hates himself. He hates how twisted that he's become and he hates the fact that it felt good to slit her throat and feel her blood rushing through his fingertips.

He loves what he did and he hates it at the same time because he loves her and he doesn't want her to go, not like this. Not by his hand.

The emergency room is deathly quiet when he runs in with Annabel in his arms, shouting for a nurse to fucking help him already.

Yelling like a madman gets him help a lot faster than just rushing in with a dying woman.

Again, they make him fill out a ridiculous amount of paperwork and they cut him off from information. He paces the room restlessly and pulls at his hair. Mumbling to himself about how stupid he is and how she can't die because he loves her.

A few of the patients that are waiting to be treated watch him with wide eyes. He's the epitome of a madman and, for the first time in public, it's completely obvious.

The nurses keep a careful eye on him and eventually he calms down enough to sit down and keep his thoughts to himself.

Hours pass before he hears anything about Annabel and he almost doesn't want to know because he knows that he cut her pretty deeply.

"It took a lot of work and a lot of patience, but she's alright. Right now she's in the ICU and resting. You're welcome to come back and sit with her, but she'll be asleep for a while."

Harry nods and follows the nurse back into the ICU. He's biting his lip in anticipation because he knows that it's bad and he's not really sure that he's ready to face the music yet.

She leads him to the room and leaves without another word. He paces the hall and debates with himself for five minutes before he decides to suck it up and sit in the room with her.

Annabel looks horrible. She looked pretty bad the last time that he put her in here with slit wrists, but this is so much worse. All of the color is gone from her skin and she looks like a corpse. The only thing that tells her that she's still alive is the monitor on the other side of the room, reading her heartbeat and playing it back with moderately loud beeps.

He nearly falls to his knees in front of her bed.

He never wanted this.

Never wanted love.

But he's got it now and he's fucking terrified that he's going to send her away to some place that she won't ever come back from.

For the first time in his life, as he sits beside her hospital bed with her limp and tube riddled hand in his, Harry Styles cries and prays that she'll be okay. He doesn't believe in God, but he's desperate enough to try for her because she doesn't deserve this and he doesn't deserve her.