DANGEROUSLY CLOSE

[Louis' POV]

I was not only being dragged out of the comfort of my house on a day off, but I was also being dragged into a recording studio without a warning.

Two days ago, Phillip had sent me a booklet with new lyrics to learn and an audio file to study the melody I was supposed to record today. A horribly poppy and catchy song that was clearly not made for me.

I had no idea what was happening.

I usually am part of the writing process of my songs, I usually know the recording and writing schedule for my albums and knowing I had only finished writing my last one last month, this didn't make sense.

This was something the label was making me record. A new single out of the album?
A song for a commercial?
A collaboration maybe?
I was lost.

And this song wasn't even good.
It wasn't what I'm used to.

It didn't scream Louis Tomlinson at all.
It was not me. It was shallow and the lyrics were basic.

And I was not liking this whole surprise recording either.
It was supposed to be my day off after all.

"Louis, I'm telling you this song is perfect for you." - Phillip said.

"And I'm telling you that I already listened to it, and I don't like it." - I huffed, following him down the hallways of the recording studio. - "I have a few others that I've been working on for my next album, and I want to show you all. Can't we try those instead of this horrendous one?"

"It's not horrendous, it's going to be a hit." - Phillip said, sternly. - "Besides, it's already planned to be just a single, not part of any album." - He said, then whispered under his breath. - "Since it's a duet."

"Excuse me, what?" - I stopped in my tracks, grabbing him by his arm.

"It's a duet, surprise." - He faked a smile, getting away from my grip and starting to walk rapidly through the halls.

"A duet? And when were you going to tell me?!" - I screamed, hurrying my pace to not be left behind.

"Today, of course. I hope you learned it as I told you so, because your duet partner is here. And unlike you, he is a professional who was here on time and learned the entire song and it's not complaining all the time."

"And who is this guy?" - I huffed.

Phillip didn't reply, instead, just walked faster until he stopped in front of the door of Studio 2.

He smiled wickedly at me and opened the door.

"After you, Tomlinson."

I rolled my eyes, and I stepped inside, looking around.

And there he was. Humming the melody of the stupid song as he scrolled down on his phone, Harry Styles.
I had to stop my jaw from falling.

Because this was shocking. This couldn't be happening.
Harry Styles and I could have never survived in the same room together.
It had to be a joke.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" - I asked him.

Styles lifted his eyes from his phone and his facial expression immediately changed.

Everyone knows we don't get along.
Everyone knows I hate his guts.

"You are my duet?" - Harry raised an eyebrow, looking as surprised as me.

"You have to be freaking kidding me." - I snorted, turning to Phillip again. - "I'm not recording anything with him. You fucking hear me?"

"Well, Louis." - Phillip said with a smug smile that made me want to punch him. - "You have to. This song will be a single for the new Dreamworks movie. The label had already signed with them, and they specifically asked for the both of you to sing it as a duet. They think it'll boost the movie."

"I don't fucking care! I'm not recording this stupid song. Even less with this idiot!"

Harry laughed from where he was seated.

"Is that your best insult, Tomlinson?"

"Shut the fuck up." - I groaned, not even looking in his direction.

"Nah. I don't feel like it." - Harry said, standing up and walking to where Phillip and I were by the door. - "Phillip, I just want to say that I really like this song, I think it's a great opportunity for me to record it. And I can very much do it on my own. You know I don't do collaborations." - He said with that stupid charming smile.

"Of course you don't, you egocentric prick." - I huffed.

"This is not my problem to solve, gentleman." - Phillip smiled, politely. - "You'll just have to find a way to record this together and then move on. Nobody is asking you to be friends." - He rested one hand on my shoulder and the other on Harry's. - "Just one day of recording and then you'll both be free. I trust you can do it."

"Can't we record on different days?" - I pleaded.

"Nope. We have the studio booked for today. We need the single out there in two weeks." - Phillip shrugged. - "And we already lost an hour because of your late arrival, Louis." - He threw a pointed look at me.

"Well, you're lucky I even showed up. If I knew it was for this, I would have stayed at home."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"It's just one day." - Phillip said calmly, looking between us expectantly. - "I'm sure you can keep your opinions of each other to yourselves for a few hours."

"I mean..." - Harry sighed. - "I'm a professional. I guess I can tolerate him for a day. But that's all."

"Same." - I groaned, shoving Phillip's hand off my shoulder. - "Not even an hour more."

"Great." - Phillip smiled. - "Let's get started, guys."

➸

"Oh my God, you're such a brat!" - I yelled, throwing the binder with lyrics on the sofa.

Harry took a sip of his water bottle calmly.

"I am the brat?" - He chuckled. - "Have you met yourself?"

"I'm not a brat. You fucking are, Styles. You are literally asking for all my parts of the song."

"I'm just taking into consideration our voices. And I'd definitely sound better than you on the bridge. And probably the chorus too."

I groaned, pulling my hair.

"The parts were already divided, you asshole!"

"Well, in my humble opinion, I think you shouldn't be the one singing the bridge."

"Your opinion is not fucking humble. You're an egocentric bitch."

Harry put his hand over his heart.

"Oh, you hurt my feelings." - He said, pouting exaggeratedly.

"Phillip! Who the fuck thought this was a good idea?!" - I screamed to our producer on the other side of the room.

"Well." - He shrugged. - "You both share the same fanbase. People had been asking for a collaboration for years. So, it's a great idea."

"No, it's fucking not!"

"For the first time, I agree with the brat." - Harry said.

"I'm not a brat. You asshole." - I hissed. - "You are."

"Your insults are getting old, Tomlinson." - He grunted.

And as I looked up and found his eyes, he held my gaze for a second too long. Almost making me forget what I was about to say.

"And your fake mature attitude is crashing down." - I smirked, breaking eye contact. - "You're starting to show your true colors, Styles."

He laughed.

"Learn your stupid verses, Tomlinson. So we can start recording and I don't have to look at your annoying face any longer than I have to."

"I know all my verses, thank you very much. If it weren't for you complaining about the division, we would be done already, and I would be back home by now."

"As if." - He snorted.

"What does that supposed to mean?" - I asked, standing up from my armchair and hovering over him.

"Everyone fucking knows how long you take to record, Tomlinson. It's not a secret."

"Because I want my records to sound perfect."

"Or maybe because you suck."

I chuckled.

"See Phillip? Your brightest star isn't as professional and mature as he acts. He's a mean, fame-driven, uncooperative jerk."

"Gentleman." - Phillip sighed, massaging his temples. - "Can we try the song from top once more? Let's avoid talking this time."

Harry groaned and I nodded, my eyes not leaving Harry's during the entire practice, as if to prove a point.

➸

An hour later and many many insults exchanged, Phillip said we were ready to start trying to record.

The first verse of the song was Harry's, so he was inside the booth while I had to patiently wait on the other side of the glass next to Phillip and the console.

I rolled my eyes as the fucker nailed it on the first try.

"How was that one?" - Harry asked, removing his headphones and looking at us through the glass.

I opened the mic from our side of the recording cabin so Harry could listen from the inside.

"Can you try and not sound like a pop idiot?"

"And what? Try to sound like your cheap copy of an altern rock singer?"

"I do not sound like a copy of anybody!"

"To me it sounds like you are trying to imitate Liam Gallagher and failing miserably."

"Well, at least I don't write songs about fruit!"

"Okay, gentleman. That's enough." - Phillip interrupted. - "Harry that was great, let's do just one more take in case we need to overlap them." - He turned off the microphone that connected both rooms. - "Louis. I seriously need you to start acting professionally and put up with him for the rest of the day."

Harry inside the recording studio looked smug.
And every part of me wanted to break the glass and go straight to strangle him.

"He's not being professional either." - I mumbled my words so Harry couldn't read my lips.

"I'm sure he only reacts because you're provoking him."

"Ha!" - I laughed sarcastically. - "Let's see when it's my turn if he doesn't have something to say."

➸

"Oh Tomlinson. You seriously can't reach that high note?" - I heard his stupidly low voice on the speakers of the booth. - "I told you Phillip, this bridge is not made for him. Get out, I'll do it."

"I'm not moving from here, you annoying bastard. You already recorded everything, just fucking leave. Go home, nobody wants you here."

"And not be around when the final demo is finished? No way. I need to have an opinion on it. And so far, my opinion is that it sounds horrible with your voice in it."

"Nobody fucking cares about your opinion, Styles. And this bridge is mine, so suck it up." - I made a signal to Phillip to turn the mic off. - "Let's try it one more time."

But Harry pushed Philip's chair aside, taking control of the microphone and the console.

"Listen up, Tomlinson. This is why I don't do collaborations, because everybody else fuck everything up. And I'm not letting you fuck with a song that has my voice and my name on the credits."

"It is my song as much as it's yours, Styles." - I spit. - "So, as I said. Suck it up."

"If you don't do this right in the next try, we're going to be here all night long."

"Then so be it! I told you; you can leave! You're free to go. So go!" - I ran my hands on my face, shaking it and laughing maniacally. - "I don't fucking understand how it is possible that we share the same fanbase."

"Me either. I actually do good music."

Oh, but two could play this game.
And I knew just how to rile him up.

"Ha. Sure." - I rolled my eyes. - "My music is authentic. Instead, your greatest hit is a copy of an A-ha song."

"It's not a copy! It's a tribute!" - Harry was getting angrier and angrier by the second.

"That's what every plagiarist always says." - I smirked.

"Well, the fans love it. And it won a Grammy."

"Didn't you have to give the Grammy to A-ha?"

"Enough, Louis." - He said, in a warning tone.

"Oh... am I hurting your ego?" - I pouted. - "I just hope my fans can see what an egocentric jerk you are soon. You don't deserve them. You're not even good with them. At least I am fucking humble and give them back the love they deserve. You? You just fucking lay on rose petals and their money."

"That's not true!" - Harry gasped.

I saw Phillip finally rising from his seat and moving Harry aside once more.

"If you both don't end this, we're never going to finish this song."

"Then maybe we shouldn't finish it." - Harry murmured.

"Oh, but we will. And I'm going to sound amazing on this bridge. Let's try it again, Phillip." - I smirked, putting my headphones back on and giving my best performance yet.

➸

As Phillip let us both have a bit of a break, Harry and I headed to the coffee place on the terrace.

Firstly, because we were starving, but secondly because we were probably going to have to stay even longer than planned since Harry ruined half of my takes by cutting me every two seconds to call me a brat.

It was almost five pm and we still hadn't recorded the choruses and the harmonies.
We were going to stay at least until midnight, and that was hopeful thinking.

Harry ordered his coffee and something to eat while I waited for my order to be ready.
When I saw what he had ordered, I laughed.

"Don't tell me oh great Harry Styles actually eats donuts."

Harry frowned. Looking down at his food as he stopped himself from handing the donut to me.

Then he recovered his 'professionalism' and shook his head, chuckling.

"I was actually going to poison it and give it to you, brat."

"Oh yeah?" - I laughed. - "Guess your evil plan is ruined because you told me." - I smirked. - "Are you going to eat it?" - I arched an eyebrow, challenging him.

"Why not?" - He smirked.

"Wow! Where is all your fanciness Mr. Styles? Why don't you go post a picture of your donut in your media? Too scared of people thinking you're an actual person?"

"I am a person."

"You're really good at showing otherwise. As far as I can tell, the way you show yourself in your socials, you could be a Kardashian." - Harry rolled his eyes.

"Well, I'm not." - He grunted, grabbing his coffee and donut in one hand and turning his back at me.

"Really? Didn't you have your own cosmetics brand? Isn't that what every Kardashian does?"

Harry took a deep breath, then put on back his fake smug smile and lifted his face to face me.
He slid his free arm around my waist, leaning closer and whispering in my ear.

"You are going a little too far with your insults, Tomlinson. But you have no idea how far I can go."

"Is that a challenge?" - I shoved his hand away from me, taking a step back and smirking. - "I'm not afraid of your infant insults, Styles. You're a joke."

"Oh. Yeah?" - Harry smirked, taking a bite of his donut. - "You'll see, Tomlinson."

"Can't wait."

➸

"Okay, gentleman. We only have one last chorus to record. Okay? How are you both feeling? Still have some energy left?" - Phillip asked and I took a glance at the clock. Five minutes till eleven pm.

This definitely had to be the longest I've ever been in a studio without leaving.
And I knew we weren't going to leave for at least one more hour.

"Of course. I'm perfect. I mean... I'm worried for Louis though." - Harry said and I rolled my eyes. - "Because well, I have better training and lung capacity than him. You know. I give two hour shows while running, playing my guitar, changing stages, dancing, singing high notes he could only dream of. But he..."

"Keep going, Styles. I'm loving it." - I mumbled, already too tired to even come up with a good comeback.

"He just stands on his mic, you know? He doesn't really know what it's like to actually have energy and push through your tiredness." - And then he whispered. - "And don't even get me started on his smoking. He can't sing two verses without running out of air. Those poor lungs."

I rolled my eyes, my fingers tense with the force I was using to close my fists.

"My lungs are fine." - I spit out. - "And I can continue recording too. Let's finish this before I murder him." - I said, looking only at Phillip.

I felt Harry's hands on my shoulders, massaging them.

"Don't be so tense, Louis."

"Don't touch me!" - I screamed as I pushed him backwards.

Harry quickly let go and camouflaged his obvious surprise with a quick chuckle.

"Being tense is not going to help you sing, that's all I'm saying." - He shrugged, playing nonchalance.

"I don't need help." - I groaned, turning my back to him and rereading the lyrics yet again just to have something to do.

"It surely looked like it." - Harry laughed. - "You can't even sing these basic harmonies."

"Oh, I'm sorry, is the big pop star offering to give me singing classes to be like him?"

"You can only wish to be as huge as I am, Tomlinson." - Harry smirked. - "But I'm always willing to share my knowledge."

And something in my mind clicked, knowing Harry was not only referring to his singing career. I almost laughed, but I wasn't going to give him the pleasure.

"No, sorry. Not interested in learning how to wear sequins without irritating my intimate parts. It must be a really useful skill though." - I smirked.

He chuckled, shaking his head.

Then, for a second, he held my gaze. The most intense eye contact so far.
I could see the challenge and the defiance in Harry's eyes.

As if he was daring me to stop him, because I knew he had a bigger comeback coming my way.
And he was giving me time to accept I had lost the battle.
Which I hadn't, not yet.

I just held my chin higher.

Harry shrugged.

"Those sequins looked awesome while I held my Grammys. Now remind me, how many did you win?"

I shrugged, shaking my head, but still acting nonchalant.

"None, Styles. But, you know what?" - I took a step closer to him. - "The day I do, I will not shove it in your face, or anyone's face for that matter."

I faked a smile and turned around, leaving the room without giving a single explanation. Finishing the freaking song was the least of my problems.

I quickly found the bathroom and locked myself in one of the stalls.
Harry was finally getting under my skin.

We should have known where to stop. Because with shallow bickering, we could both play that game. But if we had to continue raising the bar with every comeback until the song was finished, I honestly didn't know how it'd end.

It could be irremediable.

He was now aiming at my insecurities. And it could end terribly.
My biggest weakness was not believing in myself enough, was what other producers put in my head through the years, that I was not good enough.

I couldn't let Harry keep riling me up through that path, I couldn't let it get to me again.
But he warned me, he told me I was going too far with my insults, and I took it as a challenge.

A challenge he was definitely up for.

And damn, he was playing his cards well.

The sound of the door of the bathroom opening made me snap out of my thoughts. I didn't even have to see him to know who it was.
I could recognize his cologne from kilometers away.

"Louis, are you okay?" - I heard Harry's voice.

"I'm fine, Harry." - I snapped out.

"You sure? You seemed pretty hurt by my comment." - He chuckled. - "I thought my insults were a joke. But I guess big tough Tomlinson can't take them. I guess you're actually a softie."

I pushed the door of the stall open and faced him.

"You know very well I'm not a softie." - I raised my chin up.

"Well, then... why did you come here to cry, brat?" - He arched an eyebrow.

"It'll take a lot more to make me cry, Styles."

"So... am I not hurting your ego?" - He asked smugly, but I could see a brief slit of worryness in his eyes. A piece of humanity left under all his facade.

"You're not." - I said, firmly.

"Oh." - He frowned, then he chuckled. His facade going up again. - "Then I'll have to step up my game."

"Trying to make me cry for real?"

He shook his head, amused.

"If I wanted that I could have done it long ago."

I raised an eyebrow.

"You're playing with fire, Styles. You know there's a lot at stake here."

Harry's eyes glittered with mischief and in a sharp movement he stole a kiss from my lips. Lingering there for just a moment until he backed off.

"Oh, I know."

➸

We had just finished recording the last take, and miraculously, it was a good one of our last chorus together.
Somehow, it went smoothly. No comments exchanged, no attacks, no insults.
Just peaceful singing. One in front of the other.

Even if we were professional for the first time and didn't take every opportunity to attack one another, it didn't go by without staring at each other.

And they were rather intense stares, because after he kissed me in the bathroom it seemed he had gone quiet. As if he was silently apologizing? Or maybe he was challenging me to do it again.

But I, on the other hand, was trying really hard to shake the kiss out of my mind.

It shouldn't have happened. What was he thinking?
And it's not like I can go and ask him what the fuck was going on his mind, It's not like I can grab him aside and yell at him. Not even if every cell in my body wanted to kiss him again.

Harry had gone quiet, and I was about to explode with questions.

"So, are we done?" - Harry asked Phillip as we stepped out of the booth.

He gave us a thumbs up.

I checked the clock. Fifteen minutes past midnight.

"Awesome guys, yes. Great job."

"I thought we sounded really well in there, don't you think so, brat?" - Harry turned to ask me, a smirk on his lips.

"Must have been the singing lessons you gave me in the bathroom." - I said with a pointed look.

"You're welcome are the words you're looking for." - He said with an accomplished smile. I rolled my eyes.

"Anyways." - I turned back to Phillip. - "Can we leave?"

"Sure, I don't think there's anything else I need from you right now."

"Wow, wait." - Harry said, grabbing the back of my shirt as I started heading to the door. - "We're not leaving until we get to listen to how at least it sounds raw. I didn't tolerate an entire day with this brat for nothing."

Well, the niceness only lasted two seconds, then.

I shoved his hand away from my shirt.

"Look, Styles. If you want to stay until morning while Phillip puts it together, be my guest. But I'm out, I'm not staying."

"Yes, you are." - He said, lifting his gaze and meeting my eyes.

And right then, when his deep forest green eyes focused on me, I felt my knees give up.
It was like a sudden wave of relaxation ran through my body, making me melt into a puddle.

I could still feel how his hand had grabbed the back of my shirt, my skin burning at the contact.

Or maybe it had been a really long day and it was getting into my head.

"Why?"

"Because if I'm staying to make sure our song is not a failure, then so are you."

"Gentleman, this song is going to be a hit."

"Yeah, well. Why don't you let a hit composer see that for himself?"

"Well, now that you called me a hit composer..." - I smirked. - "I'm definitely staying."

"I was talking about myself." - Harry groaned and I leaned closer to him, resting a hand on his lower back and whispering in his ear.

"Oh, I know. You're just really easy to rile up."

Harry pushed me away from him and we both settled on chairs on each side of Phillip and his laptop.

If I had known that touching him was the key to keeping him shut up, I'd have done it earlier. But for now, I was happy with my win.

Harry didn't comment at all on my solo parts. And, each time Phillip played them, I felt the burning of Harry's eyes on me.
I didn't want to know the reason. I wasn't going to turn.

➸

"We're going in the same direction. Let's share the fucking Uber, Louis. Don't be a baby." - Harry said for the third time.

I rolled my eyes.

"No, thanks." - I said, pulling my jacket over my shoulders since the late night breeze was getting in my bones.

"Are you going to make me beg?" - He groaned. - "There's literally no other Uber close by. Yours is the only one that accepted the request."

I took a look at the light blouse Harry was wearing and his stupid running shorts under. I could see every goosebump on his legs and arms as he tried to warm himself up with the friction of his hands.

I sighed.

"Fine. But you'll pay for the total of it." - I said and Harry chuckled.

"Fine."

We didn't have to wait much for the Uber to show up. And the silence that fell between us as we waited was a rather nice break after everything we had gone through during the day.

After we both climbed in the backseat of the car, each of us at different ends and looking out the window, the driver started the car and moved through the streets towards our destination.

In a soft movement, almost undetectable, Harry shifted in his seat and dropped his hand on my thigh.
I turned to him with an eyebrow raised, he just smirked at me, ignoring my questioning look and staring out of his window once again.

His hand remained on my thigh, index finger softly tapping my knee.
I left it there, turned back to the sleeping city out of the window and ignored him for the rest of the ride.

➸

As the driver pulled over at the entrance of my house, I opened the door on my side and climbed out, not looking back.
As I walked the few steps up to the front door, the sound of another pair of shoes followed me.

I unlocked the door as another body hovered over my back. A pair of arms softly grabbing my waist.
We both took the last steps until we were inside, and I heard the door clicking behind him.

I turned around in his arms.

"You're freezing." - I said, running my hands up and down his forearms to warm him up.

"I know." - He pouted. - "I wasn't planning on being out all day when I left home this morning."

I leaned up, kissing his pout away.

"You went running this morning and then straight to the studio?"

"Yes." - His eyes crinkled as he smiled. - "And then I saw you there. An hour late by the way." - He said.

"Babe." - I laughed, collapsing on top of him, and he was quick to grab me in his arms. - "That was so intense."

Harry slid his arms around my back, hugging me and kissing the top of my head.

"I know, I was taken by surprise too. And I hated it."

"Right? They could have given us a heads-up. Or even just... I don't know, split it in two days? Pretending I hate you is exhausting!"

"Really?" - He chuckled. - "You really seemed to enjoy it."

"Shut up! I did not." - I hit his chest playfully, leaning up and kissing his lips sweetly. - "I love you."

"I love you too."

"And I really missed saying it."

Harry seemed offended.

"Where did you have your phone, idiot? I've been texting I love you's all day long."

"What? You did?" - I frowned, checking my pockets. - "I don't think I saw my phone at all today. Where is it?"

Harry rolled his eyes, smiling.

"Of course."

"No, seriously." - I kept patting my pockets in search of my phone. - "I didn't even notice I didn't have it with me."

"Maybe you left it here."

I sighed.

"I'll check upstairs." - I stole another peck from him, before turning around to head to the stairs. - "I'm dead tonight, H. I think I really just need to go straight to sleep."

"Same. Tea before bed?"

"Hmmm... sounds good." - I flashed him a smile and climbed up the stairs.

I reached our bedroom and indeed, my phone was laying down on Harry's bedside table. I chuckled.

As I crawled in bed and under the covers, I grabbed the forgotten phone, quickly scrolling through all my notifications.

But I only clicked on the ones that mattered. Just Harry's chat.
As I read over them, I couldn't help but smile at the thread of texts.

Hey, we got this.

I'm sorry. I love you.

Fuck, Baby. That hurt.

I hate this. I don't like insulting you.

I have an idea 🤔 let's have a secret word to say I love you and reset.

Okay, from now on our secret word to say I love you is brat. Brat means I love you, got it?

Do you want the donut? I'm not eating it.

I think I unconsciously bought it for you.

You're not even reading my texts. :(

Your voice sounds soo goooooood! Is it bad that I'm liking this stupid song only bc it has your voice on it?

Louiissssssssssssssssss :(
Just answer me, babe.

Anyways, I love you. All I said are lies. I don't believe anything I said, so don't you dare believe it either.

I love you. Always.

"I love you too." - I said, smiling at Harry as he showed up with two steaming mugs in our bedroom.

"Huh?" - He mumbled as he handed me the mug.

"I read your texts and I love you too." - I repeated and then he smiled.

"Good to know." - He accommodated against the headboard on his side of the bed, sipping on his tea. - "When you went to the bathroom... You didn't feel bad, did you?" - He asked after a few moments of so needed quietness.

"Uhmm... no. I just needed a minute to reset and remember, you know, that you were acting and saying those stuff because we're forced to."

Harry hummed, grabbing my hand and intertwining our fingers.

"I guess... I'm feeling bad for the things I said. Your voice is amazing, you know that? None of it was serious." - He squeezed my hand. - "I love your voice, your songs, I know you're a perfectionist and that's why you spend all that time in the studio. And... just wanted to remind you that you're amazing. We are okay, right?"

I smiled softly.

"Yes. Of course we are, babe. I had to come up with a hundred different fake reasons to hate you too." - I said, leaning towards him and pecking his lips. - "None of what I said to you is what I actually think and believe. And..." - I sighed. - "Your egocentric facade is amazing. Honestly, what did you do with my beautiful, nice, funny husband? Where did you bury him? Do I have to call someone and perform an exorcism on you?" - I asked and he cackled.

"Are you kidding me?! What about your acting skills? Damn, babe. We need to put you on the big screen soon. If I hadn't known you loved me, I would have been seriously considering a divorce."

I laughed, shaking my head.

"You were awesome, H." - I sighed. - "And hopefully, we don't have to act for much longer."

Harry rested his mug on the bedside table and turned completely to face me. His forehead pressed against mine, and closed his eyes.

"Soon." - He promised.

I smiled, tilting my head to the side and pressing a kiss on the corner of his lips.

"God, I love you so badly." - I said, putting some distance between our faces so I could look him in the eyes.

"I love you too. So much."

"Now. Why did you kiss me?" - I laughed, remembering what happened in the bathroom.

"Because it was killing me." - He shook his head, smiling. - "I needed just... something, you know. Having you all day at the reach of my hand but not being able to touch you, having to stop myself everytime I wanted to erase that stupid smug smile of your face with a kiss, I reached a peak where I just needed some type of contact." - He had wide eyes, looking like a maniac. - "Anything."

I snorted.

"Damn, you're dramatic." - I joked and he relaxed in my arms as I stroked his back. - "Thirteen years of touching you weren't enough?"

"Shut up, I'm still sensible from when you told me I was a plagiarist." - He pouted.

I laughed.

"I'm sorry. I know it's a 'tribute'."

Harry gave me the side eye and pinched my nipple over my shirt.

"You're not allowed to talk for the rest of the night."

I tightened my grip around him, burying my face on his hair and leaving a trail of kisses. Harry tilted his head up, finding my lips and capturing them in a sweet, long and satisfying kiss.
That type of kiss that leaves you breathless and sated.

He turned his head to the side as I left a trail of kisses down his neck, my teeth scratching his skin and the fragrance of his cologne intoxicating my sense of smell.

As I kissed and marked my way up to his ear, I softly whispered:

"Brat."

Harry laughed, pushing my face away from his neck.

"Brat you too."

"Very creative secret word." - I joked and Harry poked my stomach.

"Shut up. It was the least insulting one."

"I know." - I smiled, leaning to peck his lips again. - "Let's use it again next time?"

"Next time?" - He frowned.

"You think this was the last time? Baby, we sound awesome together. You realize that, right?" - I asked and he giggled. - "They're most likely going to ask for another collaboration soon." - I shrugged.

"Right." - He scrunched his nose. - "I don't want to think about that though. I've barely survived today." - Harry slid his hands under my shirt and kissed my lips again. Then, he sighed. - "Let's just sleep, it's almost three in the morning."

I hummed, nodding, as I pulled him closer again and pecked his cheek.

"Sweet dreams, babe." - I whispered, stealing another flushed smile from him.

Harry turned around, pulled my arm over his torso and rested our intertwined hands over his stomach.

"Goodnight, brat." - He said, and I could hear the smile on his voice.

I chuckled. And placing one last kiss in between his shoulder blades, I softly drifted off to sleep.