Dedicated to StylesSprinkle for the amazing fanart! x

Unedited. Please read the note at the bottom.

I WOKE UP BEFORE HARRY did, and it was the  most wonderful sight, him laying on his side, eyes closed, breathing slow and hair fanned out around his handsome face like some kind of angel. In my eyes he was an angel, of course. He looked at peace, and I had no intention of waking him any time soon. I had to absorb all of his glory first.

I must have spent five whole minutes just looking at him. I squirmed closer just to inspect his face. He had a small freckle near his lips, and a slight sprinkling of stubble could be seen on his jaw. I reached out and gently caressed his skim, my fingers smoothing over the soft and the rough.

Just like last night.

The night before had been a dream come true, quite literally. I'd often had a naughty dream or two about being so intimate with Harry but never did I ever think there was the slightest chance of it happening for real. It just seemed like such a far-fetched thing to happen. But there we were, lying beside each other, naked after a night of passionate love-making. And boy, it had been wonderful. 

I could still feel his hands on my body, caressing me and pleasing me until the early hours of the morning. My hands in his hair and his lips at my throat embedded in my mind, locked away. I knew those memories would be hard to remove and I certainly had no objection to keep them all to myself.

Harry groaned in his sleep.

I carefully reached out and shook his shoulder. When he remained in unresponsive, I glanced at the time on my phone and nudged him again as I told him it was past mid-day.

"No," he grumbled. "It's still the weekend, we can lie in."

I let out a surprised squeal as his arms reached out and wrapped round my waist to pull me closer. I instantly hugged him back and nuzzled my head into his chest, inhaling his scent and wanting nothing more than to be surrounded by it until I was old and grey.

"We can't lie in bed all day," I said.

"Yes we can. And we will," he said throatily.

His morning voice was something of wonders. It was that exact voice that had intrigued me, turned me on, comforted me and made me feel like the luckiest woman in the world. To hear it so close was a blessing itself.

"Harry," I muttered in protest. "Don't be lazy."

"I'm not being lazy," he argued, rolling over onto his back. I instantly followed him and ended up practically lying across his chest. "I am simply enjoying the time I had away from the damned housing association. That place is evil."

"It sure is," I muttered as I traced the smooth expanse of his chest. Slowly, I pushed myself up so I was face-to-face with him. Leaning forward, I puckered my lips and kissed him good morning and he just allowed a muffled, "Mm," to fall from his mouth.

"If I weren't so into you," he started, reaching up to cup my cheek, "I'd be cringing at your morning breath right now."

He's into you.

Into you.

As in, he likes you in more than a friendship-just-turned-relationship kind of way. Perhaps love could soon follow?

"Sorry," I laughed before turning away.

He was quick to pull me on top of him, my legs either side of his waist. I could feel his manhood rubbing up against me and I playfully swivelled my hips against him. A soft groan sounded from him and then his large hands had pulled me down so he could kiss me.

I knew there were several things I would never get tired of; one, kissing Harry. It was just something that ignited my bones and made my hair stand on end. It was exciting, made me feel something almost magical within. I never wanted that feeling to end, because it was almost like a drug - addictive. Secondly, I'd never get sick of him holding me. There could be a room full of people and I knew none of them would hold me as carefully or gently as Harry. He was my rock. He held me to the earth and kept me sane - well, almost sane. Finally, I would never get sick of Harry himself. He was the guy every person dreamed to be with; kind, witty, smart, encouraging, driven, handsome, comforting. He had the whole package basically (inside and below the waist, I may add), and I knew there was nothing, if anything in the world, that I would want more than him.

Harry, my everything.

But I knew he didn't feel quite the same about me. I could see it in his eyes, the not-quite-returned affection. It was almost bordering on unrequited, but I also knew that was far from the truth. He had told me in his own words that he liked me, that he wanted to be in a relationship with me and that he would never use me in any way. That was enough for me, that was why I'd not stop fighting to earn his ever-lasting love.

If he ever felt it, of course. Some people didn't, at least not as strongly as another.

 My hands intertwined in his hair, running through the knotty locks before tracing down to his face, my fingertips caressing his cheeks and touching over his closed eyes. The man before me was beautiful inside and out and anyone who thought differently could fight me.

Something that always crossed my mind was what Harry had told me that day in Starbucks; that Sally had 'lose interest' in him. I'd often pondered her words, wondering what in the hell she had lost interest in? How could one lose interest in Harry when he was practically perfection on legs? If I ever saw her again I'd knock some sense into her ... with a cricket bat.

"Jane, have a shower with me?" Harry asked all of a sudden.

His straight-forward question momentarily rendered me speechless. Sure, there had been occasions where he had asked me things pretty bluntly; for example, the time when he had asked me out, when he told me he wanted to screw me and now this.

Of course, being the witless wonder I was, I agreed and soon enough, our naked bodies were pushed together in the small shower in Harry's bathroom. His hands worked the shampoo through my hair, his foamy fingers trailing down my spine to my bottom. With a cheeky squeeze here and a playful touch there, we left the bathroom all clean - physically. Mentally? I was too fúcked up there to ever be clean again. Dirty-minded was all I knew.

Harry seemed to be too, his still slightly-damp body flattening me to the mattress before kissing me hard.

"You're gorgeous," he told me. "Absolutely gorgeous."

I felt my cheeks flush and I just let out a little and slightly awkward laugh. 

"Harry," I muttered.

"What?"

"Shut up, you cheesy person," I just said before wrapping my legs around his waist and hugging him as close as possible. I kissed him back until he pulled back and started to remove my clothing.

WE WENT ON A WALK through Regent's Park that evening. It was chilly, the December air sending shivers up and down my spine. The only source of warmth was Harry's large hand holding mine and I leaned against his side as we walked in the dark of the night, simply enjoying each others company.

Passers-by glanced at us briefly, some taking no interest, some smiling at us and others just rolling their eyes. One man walked past us and muttered, "Urgh, public affection," in a disgusted tone. I didn't care though, because Harry was with me and as long as we were together I felt like I could walk through fire.

"I paint here a lot," I said as we walked down the path of dead trees. I glanced up at the sky and saw the blanket of bleak grey. It looked as if snow was on the way.

"You do?" Harry said. "What do you paint? The trees?"

"Pretty much. Trees, the people, the flowers, and so on." I tugged his arm carefully and guided him down the path to our left. We came to a halt at a large pond and I looked up at him as I said, "I like to paint here. Because it's right by the banking and overlooks the water it's fun to paint. I once brought blankets and such with me one Winter so I could capture it while  it was freezing over. It was painful but worth it - until it started to snow of course. It kind of smudged the pin from the canvas."

"Aw, damn," Harry muttered as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "I'm sure it didn't turn out completely dreadful."

I shrugged. "It messed up some of the trees near the top but apart from that it's not too bad. I always said I'd go back and finish it someday but it escaped my mind. Besides, I quite liked the smudged effect."

We continued to wander through the park, Harry whistling a Christmas tune as we did so. I'd heard my fair share of Christmas songs over the last few weeks and the festive melodies had inspired me with my art. I'd drawn Harry in a Santa hat but which head the hat was covering had been a little problem I'd been faced with. You could say my imagination had been a little explicit that night.

"Harry, what's your favourite Christmas song?" I asked as we turned and started to head back.

"I don't know," he muttered, running a hand through his messy hair. "I like the majority of them but I do like Fairytale of New York. It's just a really feel-good one."

"Yeah," I agreed. "I'm picky every year. Some I'm in the mood for and others I can just skip."

"I get what you mean," Harry said. "Some are over-rated and over-played. But then again, it's Christmas so obviously they will be over-played," he laughed. 

I nodded along with him, glancing up at the sky just as the first flurry of snowflakes had started to fall. I smiled to myself, thinking how wonderful it would be to kiss Harry in a Winter Wonderland, out in the open, in public for all to see.

"I'm sorry by the way," I said.

Harry frowned down at me. "What? Sorry for what?"

I shrugged. "For everything. I'm sorry about being a creep and weird in general"

He just laughed and unexpectedly ruffled my hair. Quickly, I batted his hand away and scrunched up my face in annoyance. Oh, come on, you love it, said the voice at the back of my head and I just grinned. It was right, I did love it.

"Damn you," I said before I reached up and messed up his hair. "Revenge is sweet."

"Not as sweet as you," he said before he leaned down and crushed me to his chest. Then he picked me up and spun me round in the air like I weighed nothing. I giggled like a school girl and clutched onto him for dear life, my vision a blur of pathways, trees and pedestrians. The snow flakes caught in my hair and landed on my cheeks, Harry settling me back on my feet before he leaned forward and kissed my nose.

"You are horribly cliché and mushy," I teased, wrapping my arms around his neck and standing on my toes so I could be face-to-face with him. His green eyes seemed to be sparkling.

"I may be, but you and I both know you love it. All girls love a romantic boyfriend," he told me. "C'mon, admit it."

"You're right, unfortunately," I said.

And with that, he kissed me once again.

"You know," Harry started, his voice rather quiet. "I think I need to tell you something."

That piqued my interest. What could it be? Perhaps that he wanted to go back to his place? My place? Did he want to tell me that he'd lost interest in me all of a sudden?

"Alright," I said as I swung our hands back and forth. Visually, we looked like a sickly-sweet couple from a teen romance movie. 

Harry grasped my hand tighter and led me towards the nearest bench. I was curious about what he was going to say. Would it be something good or bad?

Fingers crossed that he's going to say something good, huh?

I held my breath as Harry looked me in the eye and said, "You know that day I told you about what happened between Sally and I? The day I was a little bit of a mess?"

I nodded.

"Well, you listened to me. Like, you really listened to me. I felt a ease being able to tell someone about how I was feeling. I guess after that I really started to take an interest in you. A romantic interest that is."

"Really?" I blurted. "That soon after Sally?"

Harry just smiled at me. "Well, just a little. I thought the same myself - it was too soon so I tried to ignore my feelings for you. However, the more we met up and the more I got to know you, I realised that I liked you a little too much."

"Oh, really?" I asked, giddy that he had been concealing such feelings from me for such a long time. 

"Yes," he simply said. "And also, I believe you deserve to know that I love you."

Everything seemed to freeze around me. There were no Londoners walking past, no snow falling, just Harry and I, on that bench, my mouth slightly open in shock. He'd said it. He'd said the one thing I longed for him to say but never thought he would say, at least not so soon.

"You what?" I stupidly asked.

Harry took released my hand and carefully reached up to cup my cheek. His touch made my heart leap.

"I love you, Jane. And yes, to feel like that back then was only a passing thought, but now I know for sure how I feel. I love you."

I was shocked, and my lack of voice was proof enough. What felt like minutes later, I was still silent. I had been waiting for those words for so long, and to finally hear them was like a slap in the face - a good slap, if there were such a thing. It was sudden, it was a shock, and it had caught my attention. My heart was racing, and if I hadn't been out in the open, I would have burst into tears. Maybe.

"You do?"

He nodded.

I cleared my throat. Breathe, you moron. Christ, don't make him un-love you so quick. I carefully reached out and hooked my finger down the collar of his shirt. I pulled him to me and kissed him quickly before saying, "I love you so much."

He just smiled before hugging me close and muttering a, "I love you too,"  into my hair.

It was a good day.

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you're all liking the story so far! Now, I asked you to read this above because I'm going to be taking a little time off writing Wish so I can finish up my other story Messages. It shouldn't take too long so updates will be coming very soon hopefully! 

Question for you: What has been your favourite part of the story so far?

Cazza