In The Depths

Loneliness is like a deep dark void, with nowhere to go and nowhere to hide. As much as I try, I just get deeper into the depths of loneliness, and into the depths of my soul. I just want to get out. I don't deserve this.

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17. A Toast

So we drink.

I took Harry to this fancy eatery place, and he seemed to enjoy it to say the least. As he sat down next to me on a stool, the giddy smile on his face was full of happiness. I couldn't help but laugh as Harry tried to order a PB&J vodka, but-to my surprise-they had one, jelly encrusted glass rim and all. I, meanwhile, am working on my cranberry gin. 

Harry just ordered a round of shots.

I don't disobey on the fact of being drunk.

"Louis," Harry smiles into his cup. His words are deep and throaty as he speaks. Its obvious to the naked eye that Harry Styles gets very drunk very fast. "I'm really happy that you brought me here."

I decide not to point out that he has jelly smeared on his lip. "I thought you'd like it."

"I hope you know that I'm going to get really drunk."

"Mhm."

"I am already drunk." He looks down at the shot glasses, filled with a lime-green liquid. He downs one, wincing as the acidic taste hits his tongue. "Even more drunk after that shot I just inhaled."

"I'll stop drinking, then. We need to drive home later." I set down my half-finished glass of gin. "I'll be the 'designated driver, responsible and mildy attractive'." I make air quotes.

Harry smiles as he takes another shot, and I can't help but to get worried. What if he makes a complete fool of himself? Being under the influence of alcohol isn't exactly a state of wisdom. I don't want to stop him though, because A; When he drinks his face softens and his eyes get smooth and he can't stop smiling, B; He may or may not want to kiss me later, sober or not, and C; Being a party pooper is a total turn-off. 

"We should go," Harry says suddenly.

"Huh?"

"I sort of hate being drunk in public. Everybody looks and there's a family over there with a nice looking baby who I don't want to upset." His slim finger points to a toddler with a set of golden curls. "You should probably drive me to your place because I, honestly, want to stay overnight there. And what's a relationship without being honest?"

"Oh, alright."

And thus we head to my place.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry looks like he just dined with fatigue. His eyes are foggy with pinkness, the bottoms curved with bags. His chest rises and falls, and yet he manages to stay awake. I come to wonder how he could look so handsome while being so tired, draped over my tan couch in a daze.

"Have you ever had a boyfriend?" I ask from the 'lazy chair'. I call it the lazy chair because all I seem do is be lazy in it. Once I sit in it, there's no way I'm possibly getting up, the lazy serum already sucked me in. 

"Yeah. Well," Harry lazily flutters his eyelashes. "In ninth grade there was this guy. One kiss was all it was." 

Ah. Clouded thoughts prod my brain of my first boyfriend in high school. The black hair, the red shoes, the sweet smiles. He was a perfect boy except for the fact that he was a lying bastard.

Perfectness doesn't exist in my world.

"So I'm your first real date?" I asked.

"Yes." He gnaws at this fingernail, totally in oblivion of the task. 

I find myself standing up, walking over to him. He catches his breath as I take a seat next to his sprawled out body. The smell of tangy alcohol arises from his clothes when I massage my fingers over his clavicle. A soft sigh escapes his lips. 

"You're so amazing," I whisper. In a smooth drift, I'm practically on him, in a mass of soft clothing and cuddles. Our warm bodies radiate heat together, causing a soothing aroma to prosper. 

"Can we kiss?" Harry asks, rolling onto me. His long legs drape over my hips as he breaths into the crook of my neck. I catch my breath in the act of my heart leaping into a gallop. 

"Why," I chuckle softly. "would you even ask?"

And then we're kissing. His lips mesh into mine and we're breathing in the same air and our tongues perform the ballet of love and we are kissing

Kissing Harry feels like nothing else in the world. Pings and zaps of contentment shoot throughout my delicate veins. He is my magnet and I am captivated to him. 

I feel his smile under my lips, crisp and happy. A hum vibrates out my chest and into his lips. I'm in total euphoria as he hardens the kiss, as we knead into each other with such passion that I find myself gasping for air as we part.

"So, Louis," Harry laughs, out of breath. Beads of sweat dot his forehead. "Are we going to have sex or what?"

I feel my stomach erupt with butterflies. I'm probably the most innocent virgin one would ever meet. I've never so much as watched some extreme R rated movies, and I would always end up sweaty and out of breath. 

"Um. Sure, I mean. I don't-"

He cuts me off by pressing his lips eagerly to the small of my neck. I feel my breath stop as his lips massage into my skin, stinging. Leaving his mark. Showing he loves me.

"Oh my God," he whispers harshly into my ear. "You are so fucking adorable."

And that's when it starts.

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