...

"I was miserable without you," I admitted.

Harry was laying down in bed with me on top of him. With my hand combing through his luscious fringe, I studied his face after my expression, observing how a small compassionate smile began to grow on his pretty lips. The hand that was on my back stroked back and forth in the curve of my spine while his eyes leered at my face. We had been laying like that for an hour, but we hadn't said much. Instead we had mostly kissed and played with each other's hair.

"You do have some serious under-eye bags, I'm not gonna lie." He ran his thumbs in place faintly, his senses careful in attempt to not make my eyes twitch. I batted my eyelashes, giggled a little nervously because I felt slightly embarrassed, but then he kissed the tip of my nose to make me feel better. After regarding my gratitude he also leaned in to peck my lips, which was an act that I quickly returned. He hummed against my mouth, "Did baby lose sleep because of me?"

"I barely slept at all," I said.

He pulled away. "Really?"

As Harry seemed bothered, I decided to try and appease him from his concern with a lie. "Well, I—I mean I did sleep, just not as much as usual–"

"Tell me."

"What—Tell you what?"

"How many hours have you slept the past week?"

I blinked a couple times, stuttering my reply, "I—I don't know—Not many." I figured there was no point of making up stories. He already understood. "Not many at all."

His thumb was then stroking over my cheek. "I'm sorry..."

"No." I shook my head. "Don't be sorry. I don't deserve that. I was a dick to you."

"You were just scared."

"Don't make excuses for me, Harry–"

"No excuses. I'm just trying to understand, and I think—I think I definitely understand why you did what you did."

I shut my eyes tightly, the anxiety building up inside of me. "Sweetie, can we please not talk about that? It makes me feel bad, and I'm so sick of feeling bad, because the thought of me hurting you is fucking torturing." I squeezed my eyes open to see his inquisitive ones. Suddenly another thought popped into my head. "Unless—I mean, unless you still have to talk about it in case you haven't forgiven me yet, because if that's the case, I'm willing to do everything I can to fix–"

"Shh..." Harry brushed his vibrating lips against mine. "I have definitely forgiven you."

Cautiously, I kissed his mouth, soon humming, "Mm?"

"Have you forgiven me?"

"There's nothing to forgive–"

"For kissing that guy."

My face suddenly stiffened as the image of Harry making out with the random guy at his lunch-tables several days earlier appeared on full-screen in my corrupted mind. I cringed at the thought, hovered away from his mouth slightly and looked away from him, into the mattress. There was definitely a part of me that was still bothered about the fact that he had done that, but apparently my mind had already repressed it (until he reminded me).

I sniffled. "Well..."

"I only did that to–"

"To make me jealous," I butted in, looking him in the eye. "I know." I exhaled. "I was jealous. But I was mostly angry. And upset."

"I'm so sorry, Louis–"

"N-No. I was angry at myself. I barely even blamed you. I thought I deserved that, and I sort of did. The reason I was angry was because I regretted making you feel the need to make me jealous in the first place."

Harry looked troubled when he caressed my cheek. "I noticed you were skipping classes."

I chuckled unhumorously. "Wanna know something?" He nodded with slight caution, looking slightly worried. "You're the first person I ever cried myself to sleep for. Heck, you're probably the first person I ever cried over. And I cried, let me tell you, I cried like a baby–"

"Louis–"

"After seeing you with that guy I threw my football trophy into the wall." Harry's mouth parted in shock. "It's true. The metal guy lost his head and all."

He rose his brows. "You broke it?"

"Pretty much broke the wall, too."

"Baby..." Harry hummed, his eyes filled with sorrow.

"It's okay." I smiled. "I'm all better now. I got you."

Harry's face slowly lit up. "You got me."

Leaning in, I kissed his lips again—because damn, I couldn't get enough of that taste. I had always known they were abnormally pink, although it was only until this day that I was informed that they were also abnormally appetising. We had "only" spent an hour snogging, and our kissing techniques had already evolved through several different stages. Both of us seemed to enjoy it when the other pecked and nibbled with a reasonable amount of saliva added to create wetness. Furthermore, his tongue did have this subtly sweet and highly addictive taste to it, too.

"I must say, I surely hope you rinsed, cleansed and sanitised your mouth after making out with that boy. And that girl behind the building," I joked.

Harry chuckled. "'Course. He wasn't even good, anyway," he told me. "Besides, I never made out with that girl."

I scoffed. "Of course you did, you went behind the building–"

"N-No. I—I actually—genuinely—didn't make out with her. In fact, didn't even kiss her." I blinked. "Not even a tiny peck."

I creased my brows. "Why not?"

"You know..." He blushed, smiling. "When you and I...you know...had our thing..." I nodded, accepting that he had trouble labeling what it was. "I fell for you very quickly and for some reason I just couldn't–"

"You stopped sleeping with other people," I ended his sentence (again).

He pursed his lips. "And you figured it out straight away."

I laughed. "It was obvious. You were like a little puppy. My little puppy. You stared into my eyes as if I were your little doggy-treat." It was Harry's turn to laugh. "Actually, the way you stroked my skin was even more convincing, maybe I was your little puppy–"

"Where did all the dogs come from?"

"You're asking me? You were born with the access of puppy eyes."

"You think I have puppy eyes?" I nodded approvingly. "Did they affect you?"

"Sweetie. They seduced me."

Harry tilted his head to the side. "Is that why you slept with me?"

I rose my brows. "Good guess, but no."

He smiled, humming, "Why then?"

"Because..." The corner of my mouth twitched as I tried to prevent my own smirk. The reason my face muscles felt like smirking, was because a particular image of an earlier version of Harry sitting his lunch-table and sucking on a cherry tomato appeared in my head. Instead, I chuckled at the thought while re-experiencing the feeling of my tummy churning. My hand then found its way to his pretty neck where it stroked a little. "I thought you were terribly attractive, I was really fucking horny, and the thought of doing something daring enticed me."

He nodded. "Wow. So, my puppy eyes had nothing to do with it?"

"I don't know if you remember, but I used to despise you." I said, the first half of my sentence in a sarcastic tone. In a quiet and quicker voice, I said, "No offense. You're my favourite person now." Harry grinned. "Unfortunately, I didn't have a thing for the puppy eyes at the start. In old Louis' defense, he hadn't had enough time to look at them. Although, when he finally did, he fell pretty fast. He just didn't see it with his own eyes for a while." I paused. "And for your information, right now, they're like a drug to me. Enticing, but not just because they're sometimes puppy-like. More specifically, because they're beautiful, and they belong to the guy who entices me more than any other."

Harry started tearing up. "You're an angel."

I chuckled. "You know what? I just realised I gotta stop using the puppy-eyes-reference, because I usually associate it with your best friend, and it's starting to get really confusing in my head–"

He shut me up by connecting our lips, kissing me rather harshly. After carefully breaking apart, he hummed, "I'm actually your favourite person?"

I cocked a brow. "I'm not yours?"

He smiled. "I'm just checking."

Leaning in again, I whispered against his lips, "I really like this. What we're doing right now. Just so you know."

He tangled his hand into my hair. "What exactly are we doing?"

"Right now," I mumbled, smudging my mouth against his. "We're kissing." Harry giggled into my skin. "And I'm telling you that I adore you. And that I would gladly like to take this to the next level."

"Why exactly?"

"Because I've grown some balls." We both laughed into each other's mouths. "And I don't exactly feel like keeping you my dirty little secret anymore."

"Mm..." he hummed. "I like that."

We proceeded tranquilly kissing for another three minutes. During those three minutes, my hands were stroking all over his upper body, but not in sexual way. It was outside of foreplay. In fact, it wasn't even something I associated with foreplay at all. It was just me, stroking Harry because I wanted to show him that I was enjoying the way his lips tugged and nibbled at mine, and the way I felt as though our hearts were somewhat mending together through the thin fabric of our shirts.

All of a sudden, Harry pulled away with a grunt. He murmured, "You think Liam has puppy eyes?"

...