The memories still did horrify me at night. There were certain places that would remind me of them, and those days when I passed the place, it would constantly bring tears. But, I had to accept the fact that there were things in your life that won't go the way I wanted it to. Acceptance is the key, and it still took me time to understand the truth behind everything and why it had happened.

Harry and I were getting exceptionally better while terribly worse. We were, and then we weren't. Sometimes people fall asleep in love and wake up empty. Sometimes people fall asleep and don't wake up at all. It hurts until it doesn't; and you don't always feel it at first, but when you feel it, oh God do you feel it.

I didn't know the reason of why my feelings and sadness was getting worse. Harry could tell it because I would not talk much during our late night conversations, nor would he. It would mostly consist of us sipping our orange or cranberry juice, just staring at the small clock that hangs near the kitchen window. His mind was getting worse, and I had questioned myself if he had secretly been buying the bottles of poison with his paychecks from the library due to the small amount he would bring back home.

We would still continue to sleep together in my room, sometimes his, but I would now be the one spooning him as the usuality. And Harry would wait for me to sleep this time, not me to wait for him. It was strange on his actions, but I could not come to the conclusion that it was the alcohol, if there was any involved completely. If I asked him, Harry would know that I had been thinking of the situation and he would obviously get slightly mad, if not more.

He would continue to ask about Mr. Malik, telling me the usual of him beating his ass if he came near me and touched me. But, he did not know the things that happened at work, thankfully. Harry would have definitely beat his ass if he even saw Mr. Malik in a very short distance from me. The things he would do had gotten worse, to the point of where he would grip my waist in public and touch my ass. I was not to the point of slapping him nor telling anybody because I was still so damn afraid.

But, everything had changed after Harry and I went clubbing one night. One night when the truth had came out. This night was months after Harry and I came out with the bottles of poison empty, and we both had come to the conclusion of getting better.

"Harry," I mutter, a lazy smile making its way across my face as I took in his appearance.

This time, a crisp, black button up is wrapped around his torso with the speciality of a few of the buttons undone to show off his tattooed chest. All night, my eyes have been so wide because I did not know of all the small tattoos in the area, even though I have seen all of his manliness many of times. Tight black skinny jeans are wrapped around his legs once again, but without any holes ripped into them. I did not notice how long his hair has grown until tonight, realizing the curly strands were down to his shoulders, and were not held up by the gel. The weight is weighing his hair down, and I wonder when he will decide to cut it.

We have barely had one drink, a small shot. It's crazy on how we are managing our drinking, but very good for us. Our physical bodies have been in this club for three hours, and it is almost hitting the midnight mark. My mind, well, it's been cast on Harry for the past day, and I have been trying to weave him out of it. His image has been bothering work, and that is not very good since my boss already has been having some things in mind.

Our eyes have been cast on the dancing bodies on the floor ever since we came here, and I've been trying to figure out what the hell is wrong with us. We both came here to slightly have some fun while get our brains off of the tough day at work, which we seem to have every day, but nothing has happened.

"Another shot, please," I mutter to the bartender, who is not greasy Dan this time, and fully turn around in my bar chair to face the drinks. Harry's stare is felt burning into the back of my head, and I know he is thinking of what the hell I am doing, but if nothing is going to happen, cheers to the night of loneliness, once again.

"Another one?" Harry questions loudly over the voices, and I hear him turn in the chair to face me.

"Harry, it's only-"

"Well, look who it is," a chuckling voice says from behind me, and I easily recognize the sound in fright. Damn it, that fucker shows up right now.

Turning around once again, I widen my eyes as I see that the voice who spoke is true. I am right, it is Mr. Malik. His appearance makes me open my eyes even more, if they can, because he is not dressed in his usual suit first of all, and second, his wedding band is not on. And I know for a damn fact that he is not getting a divorce.

I almost forget about Harry, but don't fully. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice that his stare is intently cast on Mr. Malik, dark eyebrows frowned as well as his lips. Mr. Malik, or Zayn, is dressed in a white shirt, tattooes spreading and showing all over his arms. I have seen a few of them before, the small little drawings on his fingers and sides of his hands, butt not his forearms. Black skinny jeans, just like Harry but not as tight, are clad on his legs as well, and his hair is styled the usual: slightly greased quiff hairdo.

"Nice to see you again, Addy, even though I saw you quite a few hours ago," Zayn's eye drops down into a wink and I scowl at him in disgust. "Who's this?" His head turns toward Harry's pressing stare, and Zayn's lips mouth into a smirk.

He's trying to intimidate Harry by the way he spoke. Zayn thinks if he can say that he saw me a few hours ago, it will sound like we had sexual interaction or something. Little fucker doesn't know that my Harry knows better, and he probably already guessed that Zayn is my boss, my frustrating boss.

"I'm her boyfriend," Harry's lips grow into a smirk as well, making Zayn's chocolate eyes turn into a glare. Damn, I need my drink now. "You must be her boss?"

"Oh, yes," Zayn mumbles, his eyes meeting mine. "That's sweet, she's talked about me?" Zayn looks at Harry to see the smirk gone, his face now mixed with confusion and anger. "With all the ass gripping I've done to her, she should have. I can tell she likes it."

Anger is coursing through Harry's veins as I watch his large hands form into tight fists. By the look on Zayn's face, he is proud of what he has said and made Harry's reaction. I'm about to whip his ass because Harry gives me a questioning look to ask me if it is true. But, I shake my head heartily, telling him that it is not true with my eyes.

And by everything that happens next, it is all in a blur.

Zayn is on the ground with Harry punching him repeatedly, anywhere he can get. I watch in horror as his fists connect with Zayn's stomach, over and over again, and I am so surprised that no one comes over to either escort or stop the fight. There is no way Zayn can win, even with the small punches delivered to Harry's stomach and face.

Blood is pouring out of my boss's nose, well, probably ex-boss now. A large gash has appeared on the side of his head, and from what I can tell, one of Harry's rings from the punch put it there. His bottom lip is busted with crimson red slowly making it's way out of it. Harry, on the other hand, isn't as ripped up as Zayn.

"You,"

Punch.

"Fucking,"

Punch.

"Bastard!"

Punch.

And Harry is pulled off of Zayn all too quickly.

The breath that I have seemed to be holding in ever since the fight started is let out, and I cannot help but to quickly stand up. Why the hell didn't I do anything? I just sat there and watched. And to make things worse, I hear the glass clink behind me, indicating that the terrible poison is ready to be drank. There is no way in hell I will drink, after all of this. My antidote is in front of me, and that is all that I need for now.

"Get the hell out of here," a large burly security guards slightly yells at us, grabbing Harry by the collar of his button down and dragging him towards the exit. Zayn is starting to limp away towards the opposite way, but before he can get away from my grasp, I quickly walk over to him with my fist rared back.

And then it collides with his already bruised face.

"Go to hell you fucking dick," and I guess that is all I need, for Harry to take the first swing so I can be the last. "Oh, and I quit."

I walk away, not turning around at all. My fist hurt like shit, but when I watched him moments ago rub his bloody nose in pain, I knew I had done a good job. But the feeling, the feeling of standing up to him was incredible, and I knew it was all because of what Harry did.

Quickly running out of the exit, I look around to notice Harry standing afar at the driver's door of my car. He's got one large hand rubbing his cheek, and the other is planted on my car window, his eyes cast on his mirrored appearance. It's obvious that he is cleaning the small amounts of blood on his face, and I am surprised that he didn't have much.

Another large surprise is that his clothes are in the same condition they are when we got to the club. The black button up still remains nicely tucked into his skinny jeans, and I easily guess that Harry has done that after the fight, because, why the hell would his shirt still be tucked in after he just got into a nasty fight?

Walking closer, I notice that Harry reaches out his large, cross tattooed hand to me, and I give him a questioning look. "Your keys," he mumbles, immediately grabbing them from my small hand. "I'm driving," he declares, and opens the door, getting in without another word said.

Of course, I walk to the passenger side and step in the car as well, but another question is on my mind. And as Harry pulls out of the club's parking lot, I brace myself for the answer. "Harry, you don't even have a license, do you?"

He had been homeless for six years, going on seven. How could he still have a driver's license? I'm sure he didn't get it renewed and whatnot since he was living on the streets. Did he even drive or ever get to? Shit, that's bad if he never did, really tragic.

"Yeah, I used to," his hand reaches to turn down whatever the terrible song is on the radio. "But, you know, ever since I lived on the street, things kind of changed."

Awkward tension is filled throughout the car ride as we go back home. My head turns to look out the window so my eyes are fixated on the blur of endless rows of trees and houses that the car passes by. My hands, which are resting in my lap, constantly ache to pick at the nail beds, and I finally let them. I know it is from anxiety and what had happened at the club, especially not having another shot of vodka.

Sighing, I finally decide to look over at Harry, noticing the frown etched upon his face. He's deep in thought, probably thinking about the shit ton of events that happened only long moments ago. The curly strands atop his head are still messy, but look more like a rat's nest now rather than how they were previously groomed when we arrived at the club.

"Harry, it's not true, you know?" I ask, not really looking for an answer. "I didn't like it one bit when he touched me there, and I should-"

"Why the hell didn't you tell me?" He cuts me off from me quietly speaking. His voice isn't forced, but I can tell the anger and disappointment behind it. "I asked you and told you that if he messed with you, I would kick his ass. And that's the thing, you didn't. I had to hear it from your fucking boss, the one who was doing it to you."

His tone is now raised, almost to the point of where he is yelling at me. "You don't understand. I don't know why I didn't tell you, I was just scared. And I know that isn't a good enough reason, but, it's confusing."

"It's a form of assault, Adeline."

"Harry, God- I know! I know, okay? It's over with now, and I quit the whole job so I'm okay. We're okay," I mumble the last part, my eyes now gazing ahead of me to look at the lifeless road.

"You better have," he mutters, and that was the end of our conversation for the whole car ride.

----

Harry and I walk into the house in complete silence. My high-heels are kicked off and I rub my feet in pain since I had been wearing those nasty ass things for the past few hours. Trotting towards the stairs slowly, I run my hand through my no longer nicely-curled hair. God, my feet hurt so bad. I hear footsteps following me, automatically knowing that it is Harry.

The tension in the air is still thick. Ignoring the sound of his footsteps, I continue walking up the stairs with my right hand sliding swiftly against the wood railing. All I hear is the sound of Harry and I's breathing, but besides that, silence invades our ears, but our minds are quite loud.

After I reach the top of the stairs, I head straight toward my bedroom, but before I could get there, a large hand grasps my arm lightly. Turning on my heel, I am met with a yearning look on Harry's face. My eyes lock with his intently. Beginning to open his mouth to speak, my arm shimmers out of his grip for my hands to clasp together.

"Look, I'm sorry about everything that happened. You know, the fight, our mishap in the car... everything. I shouldn't have yelled at you in the car like that," he let out a deep sigh.

I bit my lip, my eyes switching to look at the hardwood floor that is supporting my feet. "Harry..." I shake my head, glancing back up to look at him once again. "I could've handled the situation easily by myself."

He groaned, taking a few steps sideways to lean against the wall. "You know you couldn't have done that. For Christ's sake, he had been touching your ass almost every day at work, and you say you can handle that when you tell no one," he rests his head against the wall and sighs loudly, waiting for my reply.

He is right. I am just acting as if I can handle it. The fear had swallowed me up from the inside, and with Zayn touching my ass, I had thought it was no big deal. He was just swiftly walking passed me and his hand happened to squeeze it, but it actually but was such a problem.

I took a few steps closer to him. "Harry, it's okay now. You're right," I said, biting my lip once again.

He pushes himself from the wall, now walking up to me. Placing a large hand on my temple, he gazes deep into my eyes. This feeling, this action, seems like the smallest thing, but there is something more.

There is love.

"Good, it's kind of how I'm right about orange juice being better than cranberry."

"Shut up," I mumble, rolling my eyes. And that curly haired idiot leans in closer and closer, until the space between us is barely an inch. My breath is sucked in, but my lips are slightly puckered, ready for this moment...maybe. But, during all my thinking, it is too late.

The space between us closes, and his lips were now firmly pressing against mine.

I am still shocked, but the feeling of his lips against mine sends me to nirvana. I give in quickly, a few seconds later, my lips now moving against his in perfect sync. His warm, slightly chapped lips continue to wrap around mine, and it takes me a moment to realize that I have not kissed anybody in two damn years. And then I realize, he is the drug I never expected to get addicted to.

He guides both of us toward my bedroom, using his right foot to kick open the door roughly. Giggling at his action, I pull back to get a breather, knowing where the whole situation is going. A large grin is set on my face as I look at the red tint in Harry's cheeks and how frazzled he looks.

"Slightly unexpected?" He asks quietly, his hands wrapping around my waist and I nod in response. "Yeah, me too."

After both of our bodies are fully in, he kicks the door shut with the same foot, leading both of us to the wall across from the door. My back soon hits it, and we both stop in our tracks. We continue kissing slowly, the passion arising with each second that passes by. Not only did the passion arise, our breathing also became unsteady as we journeyed deeper into the kiss. He suddenly pulls away, but his eyes are still wildly glued to mine. I gave him a look of confusion, and he starts to whisper, once again.

"You are," he fiercely whispers, his grip on my waist becoming comfortably tighter. "You're worth it."

This is the moment of when I drink it all in. I've fallen in love with the little things about someone, like the sound of their laughter and the way their smile forms. The way they speak about how they love orange juice and would love to pick an argument of how it is better than cranberry juice, or those two in the morning conversations. Harry makes me happy while sad, and I guess that it how you know. When someone makes you the happiest person and saddest person at the same time, that's when it's real. That's when it's worth something.

I am in love with him.

"Stop, Harry," I mutter, and before I know it, tears are grazing my eyes.

"Hey, hey," his thumb connects with the softness of my cheek, rubbing slowly in circles. He sees my tears, damn. Way to ruin the fucking moment. "Baby, what's wrong," he asks and slightly chuckles, wiping the stray droplets. The worry in his eyes meant so much, but why the hell am I crying?

"I don't even know why I'm crying," I laugh pitifully, my breathing becoming more soothed.

"It's okay," Harry whispers, slowly leaning in to kiss my forehead and pull back. "It's just the feeling."

And God, how he is so right. I know what he means by those words. I nod reassuringly, silently telling him I am okay -- him doing the same -- before he reconnects our lips to give me one last quick kiss.

He then rests both of his large hands on my waist, yet again guiding us to a new spot.

The bed.

He sets me down carefully on the bed, to where I am still sitting up. Our eyes never leave each other's as he caresses my cheek delicately with his left hand.

I lick my lips slowly, reaching my hand out to clasp the hem of his jeans. Two fucking years since it was my last time having sex, but being with Harry, it probably would feel like the first time over and over again. Harry rolls his lips together and mumbles, "go ahead," as he notices me being hesitant.

I glance down, unbuttoning his jeans, and pulling them down nervously. Stopping suddenly, I look at his hard on boner through his boxers. Holy shit, I can tell he is already going to be big. My eyes widen slightly, and I hear Harry chuckle.

I swallow the lump that seems to be stuck in my throat and pulled his jeans down further, Harry kicking them off when they are pooled around his ankles. Clasping my hands to the elastic of his black Calvin Klein's, I yank them down painfully slow, chewing on my bottom lip in the process.

What I saw next made me nearly choke on my saliva.

He is... large.

Harry notices my longing stare because he starts to laugh quietly, trying to keep the mood. A smile makes its way across my face as I look up at him, still hearing his laugh and seeing the large grin on his face. Shaking myself out of my daze, I continue to strip him from his clothes. Tugging his boxers completely off, I toss them to the floor, where they land atop his black, skinny jeans.

Harry has already unbuttoned his black shirt, which there isn't much to unbutton, and it is now up my chin so my head can look at him. My vibrant eyes meet his through the light of the moon. on the floor, along with his jeans and boxers. He stands completely bare in front of me for what seems like the millionth time, and I chuckle quietly while thinking about each time I had seen him naked, all funny coincidences.

"What're you laughing about?" A hand comes to grip underneath my chin, and Harry slightly tilts my head so my eyes meet his.

He laughs as he sees the smile still laying on my face. "Just the many of times I have seen you naked before," I mutter for only him to hear, not that anybody is in the house.

He continues to chuckle as he lays me down on the bed, my body being in the middle of it. God, I am ready to get this fucking dress off of me. It is his turn now to strip me from my clothing as well. Lifting myself from the bed, I allow Harry to take off my uncomfortable dress, and his body slowly crawls up towards mine. But before he can get near my face, his hands move to the bottom of my dress, grasping the edge, and pulling the thin fabric off to reveal my undergarments and black, lace bra. Removing the dress fully, Harry throws it to the side, making it land in the pile of his clothes.

"Score!" He whispers while yells, fist bumping the air.

My reply is letting another laugh escape from my lips, but I notice that Harry is caught off track as a small gasp falls out of his mouth. He is gazing at my half naked body with his green irises glowing with emotion. I cannot tell whether he is having second thoughts due to the form of my body, or if he is deeply indulged by it.

But, the next thing he does seems to prove that it is the latter.

"You're so beautiful, Adeline."

His fingers smooth delicately down my arm, goosebumps forming in the places he touches. He rests his palms on my sides once again, but this time to flip my body, so my back was faced toward him. Long, ring clad fingers trace my back as he did the same thing he did to my arm. The coldness of his rings makes my body shiver. Slowly, I feel him unclasp my bra gently, his touch still lingering against my chill-blanketed, bare skin. He releases the hold of my bra, letting it fall loosely to the floor. He doesn't bother on making another score joke, nor does he want to throw it in the pile. After doing so, he turns me around once again, his eyes traveling down to my bear chest. He smiles softly.

"Beautiful..." he whispers, and I feel my skin crawl with chills.

"Harry, I'm a little scared, you know?" I splutter out. "I didn't know what this feeling was a long time ago, but I am pretty damn sure on what it is now. And, I've gave you my insecurities, darkest secrets, trust, loyalty, every single damn thing. It terrifies me in the most beautiful way possible because it leaves you willing to do anything for that person. I'm giving you so much without even realizing how much you're giving away, but I guess I don't care. I just believe it's the feeling now, the love."

"Love," a small smile makes its way across his face as he mutters the word. "you don't have to worry about me, Adeline. I care about you so much and see- I just know you're it, you're her."

"Harry, I don't-"

"You're the one that I'm in love with, Adeline Carter. You are the one, and I'm in love with you. And that might sound totally cliche, especially when I repeated it, but I love you and I don't care."

It's beautifully terrifying. But, when I was younger, I found it hard to be in love. Sure, I was madly in love with the idea, but the real thing, it was completely almost impossible. Secretly, I think didn't want to fall in love. I refused to lower my walls down and was too afraid of getting hurt after my last boyfriend. It wasn't love with him, but it was pain. But, it seems, that after all the wall breaking, the dream and nightmare has come true all at once.

He then gently pushes me onto the bed once again, but I am now laying on my back. Large hands trail down my my sides gradually. A small breath hitches in my throat from his gentle touch. His eyes graze my body admiringly as my undergarments are pulled down slowly and slipped off. Warm, heart shaped lips are formed into a small smile as he takes in every inch of me.

"Wow..." he trails off. Again, I melt inside.

Kneeling down, Harry gently begins to leave love marks on my neck, all trailing down against my bare chest. Slowly making his way back to my lips, he scoots both of our bodies up towards the headboard. In no rush, my legs are slowly spread open and Harry positions himself between them. Tip at my opening, I look at him to notice his lips parted, starting to speak.

"I have not done this in a year," he mutters, and I quickly reply back.

"It's been two years for me," I mumble, and the beautiful laugh erupts out of Harry's mouth.

"Always trying to one-up me," he bites his lip, and slowly pushes himself in, length fully inside of me.

And holy shit, he is big. Bigger than all of the other experiences I have had, for sure. But with all the, 'I love you's,' said, the pain slowly subsides. The thrusts are most speedy, but steady, and I know Harry is trying to contain all of his sexual frustration inside. Moans were spread throughout the house, but his pace remained steadily as he hit my sensitive spot very rarely.

Hands are everywhere and my eyes are only focused on Harry's as everything else is a blur. Sweat is forming on both of our bodies, and I cannot help but gawk at how gorgeous Harry looks. His tattoos are glistening, and my eyes catch onto one on his forearm, a large one. Even though it is barely lightened in the room, I can see the large heart on his forearm. Another thrust strikes through our bodies, making me moan loudly once again, but my eyes slowly roll back to look at the tattoo.

It's a heart, a real, human one. But, looking closer at it, there is a small letter in the middle of the heart. My eyes squint more as another thrust radiates into my body, and the letter finally forms. It is an 'A.'

"Harry," I groan, my gaze flustering back to his open eyes.

"Just let go," he repeats, ignoring my response.

"No, Harry. I need you to look at me," I chuckle throughout the pleasure, feeling another fucking thrust hit me in my sensitive spot.

Soon enough, his full blown jade irises look deeply into mine as his lips part in pleasure. My back starts to begin to arch, but I try to dismiss it to ask him the most important question on my mind. The pleasure is arising.

"What does the A stand for?" I ask and groan as another thrust burns, my walls getting tighter.

"What the hell are you talking about?" A slight yell it is, but I know it is the slight pleasure speaking.

"Your tattoo," I mumble, closing my eyes as his thrusts get more sloppily. "It has an A in the heart."

"Shit, Adeline. I'm going to-"

We both moan, complete pleasure overtaking both of us. I feel myself slowly reaching my high with every push and pull. The pressure beginning to explode at the bottom of my stomach is amazing. Harry still continues to thrust smoothly and slowly, and a moan shakily escapes my throat.

He then pushed in harder and pulled out slower, the cycle repeating a few times before we moaned together, loudly, one last time as we both released, our liquids filling each other. My body shook as I let out a shaky breath, and Harry moaned raspily.

Our breathing, together, was out of control. But, as Harry slowly pulls out and I whine as the lack of contact, I hear him speak.

"The A means Adeline, and that she has my heart," his body is thrown beside mine and I feel his arm wrap around my waist and bring me to his glowing chest.

"That's cheesy, but I don't need a tattoo-"

"Hell yes, you do. Did I ever tell you that I am in love with you?"

"A few times, yes," I mumble, my eyes slowly fluttering. "Harry, what time is it?"

"Um, two in the morning," he rasps out, feeling the goosebumps on my arms and reaches to grab the comforter to slowly pull over us. A small smile appears across my face as I hear the time and from Harry's action.

"Usually, at this time, we would be drinking our orange or cranberry juice, discussing God knows what."

"You are very correct," he mutters, his head quietly laying on top of mine to not bother my dazed mood. Yeah, I am going to fall asleep. "But, I think we should sleep, baby."

"I agree," I mumble in reply, my head rearranging to get comfortable on his bare chest. "I love you, Harry."

"Goodnight, Adeline. I love you."

shoutout to my bitch harrysheroine for helping me on the smut. thanks hoe.