Song: 'Listen To The Man' - George Ezra

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At the time we embarked on our together break it felt as though I had all the time in the world with Harry. Now nearly two weeks later it is practically over and we will be apart for a month. Despite having a list of things to do as long as my arm, I am going to miss him desperately. I remind myself that this is his reality; a constantly shifting life in which he is never in one place too long. He leads a nomadic existence for his art.

After spending wonderful time together and with his family in Holmes Chapel, we have returned to London for a 'just us' few days before he is due to rejoin the tour in Canada and the States. We have enjoyed lazy days and love filled nights and I feel closer to him than ever.

The July afternoon is hot and sticky but I am not complaining. He finished his packing earlier this morning and we are basking in the happiness of us; simply lounging around in silent contentment of each other's presence. The heat and brightness from the sun seeping into the living room through the floor to ceiling windows is enough to lift enough the lowest of 'he is going away' spirits.

The huge charcoal sofa we are relaxing upon is large enough to seat about six people. I am sat at one end, my legs outstretched and bare feet crossed on the coffee table in front of me. A plump black velvet cushion sits on my lap and the golden tassel that hangs down from one of its corners is running repeatedly through my fingers. The latest 'Marie Claire' magazine is open on top of the cushion and I am engrossed in an article about how society views women in different parts of the world.

Harry reclines across the full length of the sofa, his head at the opposite end to me and resting on another of the velvet cushions. His arm is bent above his head and he is also twirling a tassel from his cushion through his fingers. His latest read that he is holding open with his other hand rests on his chest along with his chin to see the text. The novel is shielding most of his face but I can just see his mesmerising eyes moving from side to side as he reads. Due to the heat, his body is clad in only a pair of boxers. His long lean hairy legs are bent and bare bony feet tucked under my thighs. From time to time he wiggles his toes and it tickles the underside of my legs making me giggle.

We are both totally in our own little worlds, like an old married couple so comfy in each other's company there is no need for constant chatter. My eyes look up from my article to scan the room.

The living room is large with white walls and dark oak floorboards buffed to a shine. A square glass coffee table sits on top of a thick shaggy cream rug and is surrounded on three sides by the huge sofa where we are lounging and two smaller ones. The fourth side faces an open fireplace. Big enough to make a statement but not overpower the room, the fireplace is a mix of a black slate hearth with a Portuguese white stone surround. I can only image how cozy it must be on a winter's night with the glow of the embers and crackle of the logs.

The outside wall of the room hosts two large floor to ceiling windows with an expanse of white wall separating them. Each window is dressed with one heavy black velvet curtain, both held up by a chunky gold curtain pole and swept back by thick silver tie-backs almost straining from the wall to keep the curtains pulled to one side. Thin white linen drapes cover each window entirely to shield the beating sun and outside world. The space in between the window is adorned with three frames stacked horizontally floor to ceiling containing the platinum disks of the band's three albums.

This room is so different from all the others in the house. It is more opulent in its decoration and not cluttered in a messy way but cluttered in a lived-in way. Either side of the fireplace is recessed black wooden shelves filled with books, photo frames and knickknacks that Harry has collected from his travels around the globe.  I cast my eyes across the shelves, intrigued by the stories the ornaments have to tell.  I spot the small replica model of the Cutty Sark ship that Harry purchased in the museum shop in Greenwich.  I smile fondly remembering our wonderful day together.  

The two shelves that run across the top of each recess are reserved for awards and trophies. High up not to be boastful but visible enough that they all stand side by side making a statement of how proud Harry feels about his accomplishments.

The mantelpiece is littered with invitation cards to parties and events. I chuckle inside as there are so many they must be nearly all the invites he has ever received whether he has attended or not. I suspect he has never thrown any of them away as perhaps they serve to remind him how grateful and lucky he feels to have everything he does.

Above the mantelpiece, hanging flat against the wall, is a massive TV which I know Harry dislikes. He wants this room to be free from anything audio, a place to purely relax. He plans to replace it with a huge guilt mirror once the TV/cinema room renovation is complete but for now it looks down, surveying the room from its high position.

My mind wanders some more thinking about how I have ended up here, sitting so comfortably on this sofa with this beautiful man.

"It's rude to stare."

My thoughts are interrupted with the slow raspy tone I can never get enough of hearing. Harry hasn't even looked up; his eyes are still fixed firmly on his book.

"Just enjoying the view." I answer candidly. Although I am unable to see his face behind the book I know he is smiling as his eyes crinkle, Crows feet appearing at their sides.

"Well I might have to start charging then!" He chuckles, still not looking at me.

"In that case I'm happy to keep looking whilst it's free but I'm not sure about paying for it though!" Placing my magazine down, I remove my feet from the coffee table and curl them up to the side of me to lie down on my side adjacent to him, between his body and the back of the sofa. He shifts his arm from above where his head is resting and hooks it around my shoulder. I nestle my face into his neck and he kisses my forehead.

"So, if you are going to start charging, just how much is each piece of you worth I wonder?" I ask inquisitively.

Harry's hair is all pulled up into a bun which is a look that single handily does things to parts of me that are unthinkable. "What about this part?" I take the small bun into my hand and make a 'honk honk' noise. He smirks but his eyes still don't leave the text.

"Umm, trademark curly locks let's just say insured for lots, especially after I nearly set fire to my whole head on stage once." He winces at the thought.

"Ouch." I reply screwing up my face.

"Yes, if it hadn't been for Zayn pulling me out the way it could have been singed locks!"

"Ok, so what about this part?" I move my hand so it is outstretched and covering his face. The tip of his moist tongue pokes out and he licks my palm causing me to whip my hand quickly away. "Yuk, Harry!"

"Well, a band does need their looks so enough, not as much as the curls, but enough." He replies laughing.

"Right I see." I run my index finger slowly down the bridge of his nose, across his soft lips where he kisses my fingertip then onwards down his chin to his Adams apple. "What about here?" My finger doesn't still; the others join in as I caress his neck.

"Now you're talking, lots and I mean lots. Voice is everything, if I lose it I can't sing." He is trying so hard to sound serious but failing miserably as my fingers continue their touch. He closes his eyes, sucking in a deep breath.

"Ok." I nod my head in understanding and purse my lips. "Soooo, what about here?" I run my fingers across his smooth chest, the pads tracing lightly over the tattoos scattered there. Harry's head pulls back raising his chin off his chest and his shoulders hunch forward at my tactility. I glance down to see he is beginning to twitch and I smirk at the thought of the affect I am having on him.

"Oh those, well whenever I get a tattoo the artist inking it is insured but I've got extra in place just in case something goes wrong."

"Ah, very wise." I skim my fingertips down his core, accentuating my touch over the ridges of his abs. When I reach the hair of his happy trail I lean my mouth to his ear and delicately kiss his earlobe. Without stopping, my hand comes to rest over the bulge of his boxers and I squeeze it very gently. "And what about here?" My voice is almost a whisper.

Still refusing to look at me but completely hot under the collar as I continue slow squeezes, he manages to practically gulp out of his throat, "as performances go not relevant at all, so about £10.50!"

I now feel unbelievably turned on and respond as seductively as I can manage without laughing.  "Well that's a matter of opinion really isn't it," not being able to resist applying more pressure to his hardness beneath my palm.

It is enough to send him over the edge. His book drops from his hand onto the floor and in one swift movement he rolls on top of me, smiling down at me as I raise my eyebrows and smirk at him. His lips meet mine and he kisses me deeply, the tightness of his shorts straining against my leg.

However, being as clever as he is he certainly isn't going to let me have everything I desire in that exact moment. He slides back off of me so he is lying on his side, leaving me on my back. His leg hooks over both of mine pinning me down with one arm trapped under him and he holds my other arm down by my side. It is me who now closes my eyes and takes in a deep breath as his lips skim kisses across my neck. I try to move my head to make him stop, the intensity of the feeling too much, but he isn't having any of it.

"Come on, play fair, you've had some fun now it's my turn." He is in a playful mood and this will only end one way.

He lets go of my arm and his hand teases its way to under my vest top. Warm fingers skim upwards carrying the material with them and exposing both of my breasts to the air. My nipples are already peaking as he takes one between his fingers and gently pinches it whilst still caressing my neck with his lips.

"Harry." My breathing is heavier and mouth open at the thought of the place he so often takes me.

"Harry what?" He replies sarcastically, his tone trying to suggest he is completely unaware of the effect he is having on me, yet knowing full well what he is doing. He is not even touching me there but my nether regions are practically in spasm. The lustful feeling pulsates as I wiggle under his leg but am unable to move. He takes my other nipple between his lips and his tongue taunts it to prominence. His teeth graze over it before gently biting down and sucking it whilst pulling it outwards.

"Harry please I can't-." I'm panting for him to finish what he's started.

"Oh yes you can, let's see how long you can last shall we. It'll teach you to tease me!"

The only thing I can move is my head and I turn away from him closing my eyes as moans escape from my lips. I feel his mouth smirking around the soft skin of my breast at what he is doing to me. I'm practically having an orgasm at his touch alone and he is relishing in it.

Suddenly his hand reaches for the elastic of my shorts and with one tug they are pulled down and taking my panties with them. His leg pushes mine apart and he rolls on top of me once more sliding his hand in between my crotch and the bulge of his shorts.  Two fingers slide into me whilst his thumb massages my bud of heightened nerves round and round as he satisfies me and massage himself.  

He is out of breath as his loving kisses reign down along my jawline.  The intensity of the feeling is so strong and his muttered words so damn sexy that my back bucks off the sofa. He whispers something else in to my ear but I am so lost in him that I am unable to process what he is saying. I run my hands up his back to cup his broad shoulders and dig my nails into the sweat of his skin. His mouth opens onto mine and he lets out an expletive before taking my lips between his teeth. The pain I feel as he bites down only further increases my desire for him.

Gently he removes his fingers, tugs his boxers down and slowly begins to move over me.  His hands cradle my head as he rests his forehead onto mine and looks straight at me.  He is always the same, so reassuring and loving.  He watches and reads my every reaction to him as he eases into me and when I kiss him he knows he can take me so far away from anything I can comprehend that my eyes will roll into the back of my head and I will lose myself.  As my whole body clenches, I gasp in a held breath as I begin to shudder; my mouth open moaning into my release.

His soft lips rest open against my cheek soaking up his warm breaths and his whole body relaxes over mine but I suddenly begin to shake. Immediately, he rolls off of me, yanks my shorts back up and surrounds me with his arms. My face disappears into the crook of his neck as I continue to have difficulty catching my breath, my whole body rigid, eyes squeezed tightly shut.

"Natasha breathe, calm yourself." I hear the panic in his voice. His strong arms tighten around me like his life depends on it but I don't respond.

He pushes me away from him and takes my face in his hands again as he raises his voice. "Natasha, open your eyes, look at me."

My eyes flick open to see a concerned Harry looking straight at me with his forehead deeply furrowed. He places one of my hands on his chest so I can feel his rise and fall and repeats slowly, "breathe baby, breathe with me."

Suddenly I choke a breath in and the sharp intake relaxes my body that goes limp. The knee jerk reaction causes me to involuntarily thrust my arms out in front of me and Harry disappears, flying off the side of the sofa and hitting the oak floor below with a thud. Rolling onto the side of the sofa, I peer down at him, my hand over my mouth in shock. He is sprawled out on the floor, boxers round his knees, and rubbing the back of his head with a frown on his face.

I cannot help my loud guffaw. "That'll teach you to tease me!"

"But bloody hell it was amazing wasn't it?" He retorts smiling.  

I cannot resist my retaliatory reply nodding at his exposure. "Yeah, it's certainly worth more than £10.50!"

He laughs hard as he crawls back onto the sofa and to my side, taking me into his arms before I can say anymore. All thought of the bump on the back of his head is forgotten.

"Have I told you I am going to miss you?"

I graze my fingers lightly across his cheek holding his stare. "Yes you have many times." Raising my head to kiss my words onto his lips. "And I am going to miss you too, very much."

His eyes close and he rubs in nose back and forth over mine before unleashing his lips onto mine and kissing me deeply. "I just want to stay like this forever. I love you so much."

I smile at him and mouth, "and I love you."

He asks me to hold out my hand and reaches across to the small table to grab something that he places into my palm.  It is a key.  I attempt to speak but he puts his finger to my lips.

"Now, listen to me for a change. I know you are an independent woman and I love that you want to do things your way BUT until you sort yourself out a room in London, if you need to stay in town this is a key to this house. I want you to treat this place like your home. You can come and go as you please, stay here the whole month if you want. The security company has your name on the registered list and the house security patrol know you now have a key. Okay?"

I stare at the key then flick my gaze up to him and smile because I am not about to argue with him; not this time. Despite our mostly content place in love, there has been little disagreements tangled amongst our happiness over the Twitcam, the moving in together, me buying a new car and how long I should visit him in the States for. This time I will not argue. I will graciously accept the key because, in truth, it is one of the things I adore about him. He is always one step ahead, always thinking about me and always protective in his endeavours. "Okay."

His eyes go wide and he bottom lip juts out. "Goodness, no protest. That has to be a first!"

"Hey, enough of that, I just like to stand on my own two feet."

"Yes and I respect that." He's looking at me intently as he tucks a stray piece of hair behind my ear then runs his fingers across my cheek. "But sometimes Natasha, just occasionally, I want you to stand on my feet because we are in this together; we are a couple. I love you, I am by your side and it's my job to protect you. Please never stop letting me in."

I pull both my lips into my mouth as pools well in my eyes. "I know you do and I love you so much for it. I am so lucky Harry. Thank you for the key, truly." I let out a puff of air to prevent my tears from falling.

"No, I am the lucky one. Now, how many hours exactly before I leave?" He glances at his watch. "Well it appears around about twelve so we'd best make the most of them." He has his wicked look in his eye as his lips hungrily return to mine once more.