"Harry, wake up."

I open my eyes and let out a small little yawn, the drowsiness wearing off.

"Zayn I'm sorry."

"You already apologized babe."

He kisses my hairline, his fingers getting tangled in my hair and I return a sheepish smile.

"I think you need some coffee. Get your lasy arse out of bed."

"You love my ass."

He rolls his eyes playfully and tugs me up out of bed.

"Hi Zayn," I giggle, my nose pressing to his.

"Why do you feel the need to say hi...as if we haven't been engaged in a conversation."

"Engaged in a conversation," I mimick.

"Oh you're going to get it."

"Bite me."

I underestimate him because he does just that, moving curls from my neck to bite my skin gently, just beneath my earlobe.

"S-shit Zayn."

"Got a stutter babe?"

"Shut up," I chuckle. "I didn't think you'd actually bite me, you vampire freak."

"You're the freakishly pale one, not me. I obviously get sun."

I scoff dramatically. "You're naturally tan. It isn't fair."

"Life isn't fair. What are you going to do about it, cry?"

I punch his shoulder and he tackles me, pinning me to the bed.

"My lasy ass just got up," I tease. "Thought that's what you wanted."

His tongue slicks his pastel pink bottom lip, his eyes aglow.

"I think you know what I want."

"Shhhh," I murmur.

And I take his in my mouth.

It's swift and sloppy but it only takes a few short minutes before he's coming, moaning my name.

"wipe

the back

of your

hand,

your lips

red raw

and hair

a tangled

mess of

curls"

He fists my shirt, pulling me in for a kiss that makes me delirious. I whimper as he bites at my bottom lip, tugging it into his mouth, his tongue flicking over it.

Fierce.

Fierce and deep and so so good.

"Zayn, I need you."

"You have me," he breathes out softly.

But he knows what I mean, pulling me into the bathroom.

"We were just in the bedroom. Are you crazy?"

"Do you trust me?"

I nod, my head light as he bends me over the sink, his hands tugging at my hair.

"Hey," he murmurs, his lips grazing my earlobe. "Don't be shy. Look at you."

My gaze lifts upward, my eyes locking on my reflection in the mirror.

flushed cheeks

half-lidded eyes

and he takes

me from

the back,

leaving praises

on my skin,

mouthing at

my warm

shoulder

but then

it all stops

and he kisses

me slowly,

delicately

our lips

softly smacking,

tongues touching

alliteration

alliteration

alliteration

personification

as my heart

dances inside

my ribcage

he's in

my lungs

and courses

through

my veins

i shiver

and shiver

both inside

and out

"Zayn," I pull away, my voice frantic.

"Babe," he knits his brows together, his thumbs tracing circles in my back.

"I want you to know you're my favorite everything. It isn't just this. It's the bickering over radio stations and you laughing over my obsession with Fleetwood Mac. It's over-analyzing sappy poems and me using up all your hot water. It's us sneaking around and me telling shitty jokes because you love a good laugh-"

I stop to catch my breath, wagging my finger in the air.

"It's you calling me a beanie wearing hipster and making my heart giddy. You're the reason I want to wake up every morning. I just thought I should tell you now because...I don't know," I blush furiously and he cups my cheeks.

"I love you," is all he says back.

But fuck it's enough. It's always enough.

"You're my all and more," he sighs and presses a kiss to my throat.

My pulse beats beneath his lips and my legs are sweaty, my jeans suddenly seemingly unbelievably tight as I grapple at them. It isn't smooth at all and I busrt into bright laughter.

A small smile tugs at his lips as I manage to pry them off.

He scoops me into his arms, laying me down on the bed.

"Hurry up and graduate already," he jokes.

He kisses everywhere. My mouth, the warm patch of skin beneath my chin and the back of my knees. Places I didn't know were sensitive.

It makes my pulse flutter against his lips like it's trapped in a cage and is ready to take flight.

He strokes me slowly and I pant into his mouth, unable to form coherent sentences.

His fingers work inside of me, stretching me out.

"Harry, your cheeks are deliciously pink and your hair is the color of milk chocolate."

"But I taste like vanilla."

"Do you?"

He licks me as he eases his fingers out. Slow, wet circles until my hips buck and I threaten to come.

And he strokes at my prostate, his fingers scissoring me open again as his tongue works alongside them.

"Look at me love," I do, my legs trembling.

I can't wait any longer, my hand slipping under my thigh, inserting a finger inside myself.

"So impatient."

"Feels good," I mutter.

"I make you feel good," he whispers softly.

He kneels between my legs, easing in his tip. My toes splay and I let out a little mewl.

And he pushes in deeper. My knuckles catch on the head of his cock as my hips snal forward.

"Harry," he whispers so I move my hand and eases in deeper.

It makes me gasp.

"Forever Zayn," I pant. "Forever, forever, fore-" and I come so hard I nearly black out.

He dips down to capture my lips.

"Forever."

...

"The coffee is cold now," I pout.

"Oh I'm sorry babe, I didn't know you preferred coffee to sex."

I roll my eyes as I turn the oven to bake.

"Cinnamon rolls?"

"What else," I chuckle.

"There are coffee rings on my side table. Know anything about that?"

"Guilty as charged."

"You little shit."

His laughter is sheer joy.

"You better figure out a way to get rid of those cricles. M'not joking Harry."

"Zayn, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to I just-"

"I'm kidding babe. Relax."

"I hate you."

"Weren't you moaning my name five minutes ago?"

I giggle, pressing my finger into his chesf, our eyes meeting as I ask

"isn't that your favorite sound?"