AN: I hope you like this chapter!

Love you all bunches and bunches

~Alex

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My eyes stared at the dark ceiling above me as I laid in Harry's bed. His warm arms were wrapped around me while his head was snuggled into the crook of my neck, his soft breath tickling my skin as he snored softly. Our legs were entangled together and my fingers played with his curls as I lied on my back.

I would've enjoyed all of this and I probably even would've been asleep if it weren't for my mind being wide awake.

The sweet aroma of the roses coming from his bedside table had me spinning rapidly down a black hole as I realized I had met Maria. I had sold her an arrangement of flowers that she had given to Harry when they met today. The worst part of it all was; she seemed to be the sweetest person and was intriguingly beautiful.

We were complete opposites. My skin was a light tan while hers was a warm, caramel color. My hair was a reddish-brown while hers was a shining black that fell in gorgeous black ringlets. My eyes were a bright green while hers seemed to be pools of honey. My lips weren't as plump and full as hers are. There were so many other things I could list that showed exactly how beautiful she was.

We were two completely different people.

I still couldn't put my finger on why she looked so familiar. Maybe there had been a picture hanging up in Harry's apartment that he later took down. Or maybe I just had this gut feeling that it was her. That was the girl Harry had been so desperately in love with.

Harry's grip around my torso becomes tighter as he shifts in his sleep, his eyebrows furrowing together with worry, "Aurora," he breathes out, his eyelids still closed as his eyes flitted back and forth behind them, "Aurora..."

"I'm here, baby," I whisper softly to him, rubbing his back soothingly.

"Flower. Take my hand," he says a bit louder this time and his body starts to shift some more, "I'm right here."

I roll him over onto his back and straddle his waist, smoothing the curls away from his face, "Shh, Harry. It's okay. I'm right here," I lightly shake his shoulders for him to wake up.

"Don't drown. Take my hand."

This is the third night in a row that he's had this dream about me drowning in the ocean and not being able to save me. "You're okay, baby. I'm right here. I'm not drowning," I tell him as he still lives in the nightmare raging around in his mind.

I pepper kisses across his nose, cheeks, jawline, forehead - anywhere my lips met skin as he twitched underneath me and small whines left his pink lips.

"Please. Take my hand. Don't leave me like this," he whimpers and my heart breaks as I spot a tear slip from the corner of his eye.

"Please wake up, Harry. I'm here, darling," I shake him harder, feeling useless as his face contorts into pain and another tear escapes from his closed eyelid, "Come on, baby. Wake up."

I've never seen Harry look like this before. Pain was etched into every fiber of his face and his hands were clutching tightly onto the sheets as his mind caused him to stay in his nightmare. My heart was shattering with each passing second as I shook him harder and harder, hoping and praying he would wake up soon. He was suffering and there was nothing I could do.

"No!" His green eyes snap open as he quickly sits up, causing me to slightly fall backward. His arms catch me before I fall completely backwards and he pulls me into his chest.

"Thank God," I breathe as I throw my arms around his neck, squeezing him tightly against me, "Are you okay, baby?"

His breathing was erratic as his hands clutched at me tightly, "You're here."

"I'm here. I'm here, baby," I assure him as my fingers thread themselves through his disheveled hair. His body was shaking underneath me as we were both sat up in bed, my legs still straddling him while he squeezed me tightly. I had no idea that this nightmare he'd been having was so bad.

"I'm sorry," he whispers softly as he nuzzles his head into my hair.

"Don't be sorry. There's no reason to be sorry," I whisper back.

"It keeps getting worse and worse every night," Harry breathes while his hands slip underneath his shirt that I was wearing, his arms reaching all the way around me as he sighed in relief as he touched my skin.

I couldn't help but think that it was possibly my fault. I felt myself drifting farther and farther away from him without meaning to, knowing he probably saw the light in my eyes disappearing. I tried holding on. I tried holding on for him, but it was no use. He was noticing my change in the atmosphere that surrounded me.

"You scared me. You scared me so bad," I breathe out shakily and I force my racing heart to beat slowly in hopes it would ease Harry's own racing heart, "Are you okay now?"

He only hums in response as his grip on me doesn't loosen a bit, "I'm so glad you're here. I thought that when I woke up you wouldn't be here."

"How about we make you some tea, yeah?" I offer while pulling my head away from his neck to look into his glazed-over eyes.

"Okay," he replies softly and his grip around me falls. I climb off of his lap and let my feet hit his soft carpet. His shirt that I was wearing reaches slightly above my knee, raising up only slightly as I reach out my hand to intertwine our fingers together as he stands beside me, "Thank you for being here."

I squeeze his hand gently as we tiptoe down the hallway, staying quiet as to not wake up my brothers who slept in the room only two doors down from Harry's bedroom, "Of course. I'm just sorry I wasn't here the past two nights to help you through it," I shake my head lightly as guilt washes over me like waves washing ashore.

The soft light from the fridge washes over the side of Harry's face as I open it to grab the milk. Harry liked his tea plain while I liked mine with milk - which is something he would not let me live down, "Just try it without milk for once," he begs me as I place the kettle full of water on the stove.

"I have and I don't like it," I laugh lightly at him, wrapping my arms around his torso and pulling him against me, "Are you sure you're okay now? You're still shaking."

"I'm fine," Harry says softly, resting his chin on top of my head, "I don't think I'd be fine if you weren't here, but you are. That's the only thing keeping me from losing it."

His heartbeat had slowed but his body was still trembling slightly. I rub soothing circles with my thumb on his back that lacked a shirt, his words acting as a bullet that went straight through my heart.

That's the only thing keeping me from losing it.

Were his dreams really that bad? What I saw on the outside was horrible and I'd hate to actually see what had happened in his mind. I'd never seen such fear and pain on Harry's face before, "Did I wake you up?" He asks me.

"No. I haven't been to sleep yet."

"Why not? It's nearly 2 AM," Harry asks, a hint of worry laced in his voice.

"There's just too many things going on right now. It's like my mind is always awake," I admit and he takes a deep breath, tightening his grip around me.

"Please tell me what's going on, Flower. You haven't been yourself these past three days."

I wanted to tell Harry about Niall. I wanted to ask him about Maria. Both were conversations I wasn't ready to have yet. I was too terrified of the response and answers I would receive.

The kettle starts to whistle and I pull away from Harry, turning my back to him as I take the kettle off of the stove, "Let's not talk about me," I shrug off his question, pouring him a cup of tea.

"Aurora, please. I'm worried about you," Harry begs me and I close my eyes, the end of the kettle hovering over my cup.

"And I'm worried about you. I'm not the one who just had a nightmare and woke up shaking and crying. Now please," I sigh, finally pouring the steaming water into my cup, "Stop worrying about me and worry about yourself. I'm fine."

Harry becomes eerily quiet behind me and I wonder if he left the kitchen, "Are you still upset about our argument?" He asks quietly and I turn around to find him staring at me with sadness in his eyes. The same sadness that was probably filling my eyes right now.

"What? No."

"Are you sure? Because you've become distant from me ever since that night. I'm starting to think the only reason why you touched me was because you felt like you had to," he mumbles while looking down at the ground, "Do you think I'm going to leave you just because we're not having sex?"

Although the thought had crossed my mind, I knew Harry wasn't like that. He had made it very clear to me that he could wait, "No, I don't think that. And I didn't touch you because I felt like I had to. I did it because I wanted to," I shake my head, furrowing my eyebrows a bit as he continues to stare at the floor.

"Then why haven't your eyes been as bright here lately? Do you think I don't notice that you're faking your smiles? That you're hiding your pain?" He finally looks up at me and I have to take a step back as I see the thousands of emotions running through his eyes, completely blown away now that he's finally let his walls down.

Now would've been the perfect time to tell him everything, just so I could end his worrying and let him know why I was upset. Why my eyes haven't been as bright and why I'm faking my smiles. Why I'm hiding my pain. But I just couldn't. I was afraid.

Harry's walls had finally came down and I couldn't even tell him why I was upset. While he was opening up to me, I was closing down to him. His nightmare was coming true and he was just now realizing it - and it scared me to death.

Maybe I should tell him and get it off of my chest, but I knew it wouldn't help the situation we were currently in, "I...I can't tell you," I finally breathe out, looking down at the cold kitchen floor, "Not now," Silence once again envelopes us and I look up only to find that Harry was no longer standing in front of me.

Something inside of me breaks just a little. I couldn't blame Harry because it was all my fault. I'm the one who was shutting down while Harry had never been so open.

I inhale a shaky breath while taking a sip of my tea, scrunching my nose up as I remember I didn't add milk. As I unscrew the lid to the milk and add just a dash, Harry reenters the kitchen with a small notebook in his hands along with a pen.

"If you can't say it, then write it down and give it to me when you're ready," he says while handing me the two objects. I send him an odd stare, taking them from his hands uneasily, "I don't care when you give it to me. Just write it down."

He grabs his cup of tea along with mine and motions for me to follow him. I trail behind him, pausing in the doorway of his studio as he sits our cups of tea down on his desk and grabs an empty canvas, "What are you doing?"

"While you're writing," Harry mumbles, grabbing a blanket and some pillows from the closet, "I'm going to paint," he sets the pillows and blanket down in front of the window. He walks over to me and takes my hand, leading me over to the window.

"What are you going to paint?" I ask him after he presses a soft kiss to my forehead and walks away to sit on his stool.

"Can't tell you. Just write," he sends me a soft smile before picking up his paintbrush and dipping it into some watercolor.

I sit down on the pile of pillows, wrapping the grey blanket around me as I open the notebook to the first page. I glance over at Harry only to see that he was looking at me expectantly, his paintbrush hovering over the canvas, "I'm sorry, Harry."

"For what, darling?"

"For becoming so closed off to you. I'm not meaning to...it's just..." I take a deep breath, fidgeting nervously around on the pillows, "I'm scared that if I tell you now...things won't end so well for us."

He pinches his lips together into a thin line, getting off of his stool to come crouch down in front of me, "You have your reasons for not telling me everything, just like I have my reasons for not telling you everything. We keep them from each other to prevent from hurting each other. In the long run, we'll probably end up hurting each other, but that doesn't mean things have to end. We can work through it together," he caresses the side of my face gently, causing me to lean into his warm touch, "I know we can."

But can we?

He had no idea how bad my situation was, just like I had no idea how bad his situation was.

I suddenly realized what I needed to do.

"Thank you for saying that," I lean forward and peck his lips softly.

"Now write. Get it off of your chest."

So I wrote.

I poured my heart and soul onto the black and white pages of the notebook, glancing at Harry every now and then to find him painting away on his canvas. My mind spilled itself onto the pages and with every word I wrote, the weight of the world seemed to lift itself off of my shoulders.

Every letter. Every word. Every sentence. Every paragraph. Every page. It was all addressed to Harry. It was all meant for him to read one day.

Just not today.

Today was too soon and I wasn't ready for it to happen yet. I needed more time; more time with Harry. I needed to spend more time in his arms and hear him tell me about his day. I needed more time to feel the way his lips felt against mine and I needed more time to hear the word Flower leave his cherry red lips.

Something wet makes it's way down my cheek and I wipe it away, pulling my hand away from my face to see the wetness of a tear. I look up at Harry to see him staring at me, seeing an unreadable expression on his face before he clears his throat and looks away.

I turn away from him and look out at the city, marveling at the dozens of lights that glimmered and shone across the vast landscape of Rome. Dots of golden light illuminated the historical architecture and I could feel the lights shining brightly in my eyes as they acted as a mirror.

The only thing that compared to this view was the green-eyed man with curly brown hair sitting behind me, his tattoos that littered his torso and arms on full display as he sat there in only his underwear. Without even having to check to make sure, I knew that his curls were just barely brushed out of his eyes as they splayed themselves messily around his head like a halo - a result of having just woken up from a horrendous nightmare.

"Remember when I sat here and called you beautiful and you said no one has ever called you that before?" I ask him, my head still turned away from him as I continued to look out the window.

"I do," he says quietly.

"Do you find yourself beautiful?"

"I find you beautiful."

I turn my head to look at him, furrowing my eyebrows, "That's not what I asked you."

He stares at me with an empty look in his eyes, his shoulders slouching slightly as he sighs, "No...I don't," he runs a hand through his hair nervously.

"Why?" My heart breaks a little as I close the notebook and get up.

Harry looks up at me as I look down at him, cupping his jawline in my hands, "I don't know. I guess because I'm an artist, I criticize every little thing about myself. Since all I see is beauty in everything and everyone...it's kind of hard to see it in yourself. When I look in the mirror...all I see is me. I don't see beauty or any type of attractiveness in myself," his eyes search mine as he looks at me, "I wish I could see myself through your eyes. Every time I look into them when you look at me, it does make me feel beautiful...but when you look away or even blink for half a second...all of those feelings of me feeling beautiful vanishes into thin air and I'm left feeling like I'll never find myself beautiful ever again."

"Then I'll look at you forever," I say immediately but feel a pang in my heart as I speak.

He smiles at me softly, "You want me to feel beautiful all the time?"

"I want you to feel beautiful 24/7/365 because you make me feel beautiful and I want to return the favor. You are beautiful, Harry. Mesmerizingly beautiful in so many ways. So, so many ways, Capolavoro."

"Flower," he breathes before reaching forward to pull my head down to meet his lips, kissing me with such urgency that I almost collapse into his lap, "My beautiful Flower," he rests his forehead against mine.

"Il mio bellissimo Capolavoro."

We stare intently into each other's eyes and I watch as his pupils dilate, green surrounding the overpowering black, "Did I mention how happy you make me?"

"Once or twice," I smile and kiss the tip of his nose before pulling my touch away from him, going back over to sit on the pile of pillows, "This is rather comfy by the way," Harry chuckles softly as he takes his paintbrush out of the cup of water he had placed it in.

Nothing else is said, the only sounds filling his studio being our breathing and the sound of my pen scratching the notebook paper as I let my heart spill out onto the pages. In some strange way, it felt as if I was putting the pieces of my heart back together by combing letters together to form words and sentences - words and sentences that I knew I would never speak aloud because of the pain they would cause and the turmoil they would leave in their wake.

Small yawns begin to escape my lips as I find my eyes becoming harder to hold open. Luckily, I was almost finished writing, my had beginning to cramp up. "Someone's mind is finally falling asleep," Harry says softly and I look up from the paper to send him a sleepy smile.

"I'm ready to snuggle and go to sleep," I yawn again as I write my last word, shutting the notebook and getting up from the pile of pillows.

"Then let's go snuggle and go to sleep," Harry sweeps my legs out from under me as he picks me up bridal style and once again carries me into his bedroom, "Promise you're going to go to sleep this time?"

"I promise."

I didn't pay attention to the arrangement of light pink roses and white lace as we laid down in Harry's bed again. I didn't even pay attention to the small note tucked into the roses that I had somehow overlooked the first time.

I only paid attention to how our legs intertwined in the most natural way possible and our bodies fit together like two puzzle pieces, my head fitting into the crook of his neck as if God had carved it perfectly just for me.

"Have you ever noticed how perfectly our bodies fit together?" I whisper to Harry.

"Have you ever noticed how perfect we are for each other?" Harry whispers back.

"Goodnight, Capolavoro."

"Goodnight, Flower."