Eucatastrophe ~ h.s.

This isn't how I planned any aspect of my life to occur.

The plan was simple: Finish university with a 4.0 GPA, Get a well-paying corporate job that's more intense than the assistant job I've now, Find a man that loves me for me, Get married at a gorgeous ceremony, Have beautiful children, Grow old with the man of my dreams and watch our kids mature right before our eyes, and Then fall deeper and deeper in love with our time together.

That Night wasn't supposed to happen. My life wasn't supposed to turn out like this.

*Contains: Language, mild sexual content, and a bit of violence. Content could be triggering for some.*

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29. ✗ twenty-eight ✗

SHAY

"So, Shay tell us about your family. What do your parents do?"

Dinner had been quite pleasant thus far and very comforting up until now. We were dining on roast, cooked carrots, and potatoes. There had been one hiccup at the start, when Anne offered me wine and Harry nearly screamed at her. He ended up lying saying that I don't enjoy alcohol. But after that, we really did nothing more than enjoy the delicious food Anne prepared. Now we seemed to be rolling down the path of getting to know more about me. I wasn't sure if I wanted to share the true me with them.

"Oh," I glance at Harry to my right to see him with his fork next to his open mouth. He looks to me, reaching his other hand under the table to take mine and give it a reassuring squeeze. I take a deep breath and smile across the table at Anne, "Well my parents are art collectors." I simply say. There's no need to go into too much detail.

"Wow, that's very interesting. It must have been very educational growing up, being surrounded by art."

"They mostly kept their trading to themselves, but we did enjoy a lot of different art in our home. Some of the pieces that they bought inspired me to pursue an appreciation of art."

What am I saying?

"In what way?" Anne asks curiously.

I continue to smile over at her as I bring my water up to my lips to stall and buy some time before I need to answer.

"I quite enjoy going to art museums in my free time. I've been to The National Gallery, Tate Modern, UCL Art Museum, among others in the London area, including some private shows."

I guess the private art shows were something I cherished about my parents. They would often take me to them because they wanted to show me off to their other rich friends, and they thought I hated it. If they looked hard enough they probably could have figured out that I quite liked it.

"Some of my favorite pieces are so sophisticated and intricate that they make me want to pursue a type of artistic way of life. My favorite modern artists is Olga Rykova, she has amazing pieces that are just so colourful and full of expression and life."

Oh my God, shut up! You're just rambling nonsense now. I sigh and look around the table.

Gemma is eating quietly, whilst listening to my story on art. Robin and Anne, though, have finished their meals and are now strictly looking to me, wanting to hear my story. And I'm sat here, running out of things to say and wishing I could enjoy some of the delicious wine Gemma and Anne are sipping on. Harry clears his throat from beside me and picks his glass up as well.

"Do you have any siblings?" Robin adds in, interrupting his wife from asking any more art questions. I don't honestly think I could tell them anything else. I did gain an appreciation of art from my parents, but that's it.

"I'm an only child."

"Did you grow up in London?"

"Yes, I did. I spent most of my life in Chelsea."

"Nice neighborhood." Robin adds. I nod and dip my head low, not wanting to discuss money.

"Yes, well there are many art galleries and museums in the area. It's a lovely place to live if you want to surround yourself with it."

"Do you paint or sculpt?"

I'm taken aback by her questions. No one has ever asked that before. Usually once they here about my parents' jobs and my love for art they just assume that I take part in the business as well. Everyone assumes this because they think I have no artistic talent. But those fools didn't know the half of it.

"I paint." I say, glancing at Harry. He's staring over at me, smiling.

I haven't actually painted in quite sometime, perhaps years even, but it's like riding a bike. You may lose practice, but it's not that hard to pick up again at a later time.

"I didn't know that." I nod and smile his way.

I can't believe I haven't told him. I tell him everything it seems like. I just wish I could show him some of my paintings, but the one's that didn't sell or go into galleries out of town are at my parents' home. They're stored somewhere in the basement. They hang expensive art on the walls whilst mine collects dust out of sight.

"I mean, yeah, I've won a few contests and my pieces have been featured in a couple of galleries." Harry seems even more surprised. I find myself smirking and shrugging my shoulders. I shouldn't brag, but it's just so fun. "I've never really shared that with anyone before." I admit, looking around the table at the three other pairs of eyes. "People don't really seem that interested when I start spouting about painting."

"You should hang some of your pieces up at your office, that building could use a bit of colour." Robin adds, raising his win glass towards Harry. I chuckle lightly, covering my mouth with my hand. Harry's building is pretty dull, all monochromatic colours. The office could use a pop of colour. "I'm serious Harry, the only colour on your level is the arrangements on Shay's desk."

"He does have a point." Harry raises a brow when I take a stance with his stepfather and rolls his eyes. I roll my eyes back at him before turning to look across the table at Gemma. She's smiling over at the two of us, giggling lightly to herself. I find it's time to take the spotlight off of me and put it on someone else. "So Gemma, Harry tells me that you're a journalist."

"Ah, so he tells the truth for once." Harry huffs and slumps in his seat as his sister smirks. "Yes, I write a fashion, beauty, and modern technology section for the paper whenever they feel like they need to reach a new audience. I'm also a fashion and beauty blogger. Are you interested in fashion?" I nod quickly, squeezing Harry's hand underneath the table as it rests on my thigh.

"I love fashion."

"Yeah, you should see some of her work clothes. They're very bold." Harry cuts in, sliding his hand out of mine before wrapping it around my shoulders.

"Well, we should go shopping sometime, maybe tomorrow. Holmes Chapel has a few choice stores, but we could always drive over to Cheshire and go to the shoppes there." Gemma says warmly.

"I would love that." I look to Harry, hoping he hasn't made plans for tomorrow. I spend all my time with him; I'd like an afternoon off to be around town without him at my hip. "Are we doing anything tomorrow?" Harry shakes his head and brings his water up to his lips. "Yeah, Gemma, that would be really fun. Tomorrow sounds good."

"I guess we'll aim for half one."

&&&

"You bonded well with my family." Harry calls out to me from inside his childhood bedroom. I stand in the bathroom just across the hall, shushing him as his parents are only down the hall in their own bedroom. "Don't shush me, they don't care."

"You're being loud." I say, wiping the remaining toothpaste off from around my lips. Harry pokes his head out of the room and smirks over at me as I place the towel down next to the sink. I lean against the doorframe of the bathroom with my arms crossed as Harry does the same just across the hall. "And I like your family. They're nice people, especially you're sister." I chuckle lightly at Harry's roll of his eyes. I think he's starting to get jealous. "I'm super excited to go shopping with her tomorrow and be away from you."

Harry narrows his eyes as he pushes himself from the doorframe and grabs ahold of the front of my loose t-shirt.

"You don't mean that." He pouts, pulling me towards him. I stumble forward a bit, but catch myself before standing tall in front of him.

His hand is still gripping my t-shirt as his other hand lands on my hip, his thumb tracing circles over the clothed skin. The tickling sensation sent chills throughout my body, causing me to shiver lightly. Harry chuckles lowly and shakes his head at my reaction, continuing the motion as I lift my hands and rest them on his firm, bare chest.

"Maybe I do." I joke. "Maybe I'm only with you so that I can befriend Gemma."

"If that were the case, you wouldn't be shivering under my touch." He adds, raising a brow. I curse my body mentally for not being able to hold it together and act like a blank canvas. I watch as the corners of his lips turn up in a smile and I can't help but smile with him. "There's that smile."

"Was it ever gone?" Harry's eyes fit down on my lips, staring intently at them.

"For a while, yes." I sigh and stare ahead at my fingertips on Harry's bare skin. "I'm glad it's back now."

"Me too."

"Are you sure Anne and Robin don't mind us sharing a room?" I wonder, glancing down the hall towards their closed door. They had turned in early this evening, about thirty minutes ago whilst Harry, Gemma, and I drank tea and chatted a bit more. It's still relatively early, but I feel as if I can sleep for years.

If this were my home my parents would make us stay in opposite sides of the house until we were married. I guess it was a good thing I never brought anyone home with me.

"Of course not." He whispers, lowering his head so that it's closer to my face. He untangles his hand from my t-shirt and places two fingers beneath my chin. Our eyes meet and it's as if everything around us has faded away. "C'mon." I gasp when Harry's hands slide around my waist and find my bum. I'm not expecting the touch on my rear, but they soon lower even more until they're at the back of my thighs. "Jump." He utters and I do as he says.

My legs wrap around his waist as my arms circle his neck, a large smile coming across my lips. I thought that as soon as he touched me sensually I was going to start freaking out, but oddly enough I seem fine. My brain stayed in check, finally. Harry looks up at me before turning on his heels and carrying me into his old bedroom.

There are posters hung on the wall and intricate photographs in black and white. I recognize some of the places in the photos like Paris, London, and Rome, but some are unfamiliar to my eyes. The furniture is black in colour with white and grey accents throughout. His bedding is white in colour and spotless, giving the room a chic and clean look. The only mess about is our open suitcases on the floor, overflowing with too many clothing items for only three or four days.

Harry walks over to his bed and climbs on to the mattress resting on his knees. He slowly leans forward until my back meets the mattress before pulling away. My legs stay wrapped around his waist and my hands slide from the back of his neck to his face. He looks absolutely stunning under the dim lighting in the room and the moonlight peeking in from the sheer curtains.

"What are you staring at?" I shrug and run my fingertips over Harry's pink lips.

"You." I simply state, my lips barely moving as my eyes slowly scan up Harry's face until they meet his beautiful eyes. I think his eyes are the most beautiful things in the world. If I could capture them on camera and hang them in a gallery they'd be the main attraction. But I don't believe a photograph would be able to capture such beauty. "You're so beautiful." I say without overthinking it.

"Me? Beautiful?" I nod and smile up at him, my eyes continuing to scan his flawless face, my fingers following wherever my eyes go. "I'm not the beautiful one in this relationship." He adds, ducking his head down to press a kiss to my lips. I smile through the kiss, pulling his lips further onto mine as my body ignites.

The heat spreads up from my toes and down from my head. I feel hot, the temperature rising in the room from a comfortable level to sauna level in milliseconds. The loose t-shirt and shorts do little to keep my body cool as Harry's hand glides up and down my clothed side. My head feels lightheaded with the force of the kiss, but I don't dare pull away.

I can't explain the way the kiss feels tonight. There's always sparks when we kiss, but never this. This is kissing to a whole new level. My hands find Harry's long locks of perfectly chocolate curls and they tug at the roots as his lips melt with mine.

I have an idea why I feel this way tonight and I should make an attempt to stop myself, but it's almost impossible. I read up on a pregnancy website this morning whilst waiting for Harry to finish getting ready. I was searching for what other symptoms I may be experiencing during the first trimester. Fluctuations in hormones are like number five on the list and boy do I believe the website now. My hormones were completely taking over now as my tongue darts out to run along the expanse of Harry's lips.

A deep moan leaves his lips as I do so, causing his lips to part as my body heats up to another level. Our tongues meet for the first time and I swear fireworks are exploding around us, any minute we may get burned or catch fire. His hand continues to run along the expanse of my body, finding a place on my hip and gripping down roughly. His lips depart from mine and I open my eyes whining at the loss of contact.

I'm met with the green irises of his eyes before his head ducks down and his lips meet my throat. I suck in a breath with every peck he leaves on my burning skin until his lips choose a spot just south of my chin. My eyes spring open to meet with the ceiling before drifting closed again with the feeling. I've made out with other guys before in my past, but with my hormones at a whole new level I feel reborn.

A loud moan leaves my lips as Harry sucks harshly on the skin of my neck, making me clamp my hand over my mouth to keep quite. His movements still for a moment when the moan left my lips, but continue their assault shortly after.

I tangle my hands deeper in his curls, pulling harder to gain a reaction. The reaction comes in the form of a low moan from deep in Harry's throat and his teeth to nip at my tender skin where he's already sucking. I squeeze my legs tighter around his waist, pulling his front down onto mine, my breath hitching my throat when our bodies touch, my centre aching. His hips against mine cause the most heated friction that I so desperately need and want.

A few moments longer of Harry sucking on my neck and of contact between our clothed centers, a hot heat spreads through my centre and a cry leaves my lips.

I'm breathing heavily and my lower half feels like it's trembling, my legs falling from around Harry's hips from exhaustion.

My eyes widen tremendously when I realize what's just happened as Harry pulls away, immediately meeting eyes with me.

"Did you just-"

My jaw stays ajar as I separate us, pushing Harry off and onto the bed before I get up. I quickly rush out of the room and across the hall to the bathroom, shutting the door and leaning back against it. My chest rises and falls heavily as my hand shakily meets my mouth to touch my swollen lips as my other hand comes and rests on my lower abdomen, right at the top of my cotton shorts.

"Oh my God." I hiss breathlessly and quietly, jumping up and down on my jelly-like legs before I grow too tired and lean against the counter for support. My eyes slowly come to meet my reflection.

My face is completely flushed with bright pink tinting my cheekbones. My eyes seem to be glistening and my lips fell double in size. My gaze falls to my neck where three marks lay, one darker than the other two. My gaze continues to get lower and lower until I'm staring at my lower half. "What are you doing to me?" I whine, dropping my head into my hands and shaking my head about.

I quickly wet my hot face briefly before cleaning myself up and figuring out just how I'm going to face Harry again. We've never done anything remotely sexual, unless you considering kissing sexual, which I don't. The one time we makeout my hormones decide to take over and embarrassedly I had come undone in front of him, just from him kissing me and like seconds of contact.

Coming undone in front of someone is almost the most vulnerable you can possible get in front of another person, almost. Sometimes you don't have control over your actions or your words. Sometimes it leaves you paralyzed for moments at a time. It's just so intimate, especially the first time.

I'm debating ways that I can sneak out of the bathroom and run from the house without seeing Harry when there's a knock at the closed door.

I assume its Harry since I've been hiding here for a good ten minutes just pacing and freaking out.

"Just a minute." I call out lightly, to ensure that I don't wake anyone else in the house up, though I'd be shocked if my moans and cries hadn't woken someone.

I still can't believe how out of control I was back there. I work to conceal my raging hormones when I feel like crying or screaming out in anger, but apparently I cannot conceal the sexual effects of my hormones.

I hear the door open as I stare at the ground. I don't bother looking up towards Harry, still too embarrassed to show my face. I simply just continue sitting on the closed toilet seat and stare at the tile floor as Harry enters the bathroom.

His feet start in my direction before turning and coming to my side. He lowers himself down on the side of the bathtub, sitting with his hands clasped and his elbows resting on his knees.

"Shay." I hum in response, not bothering to look up at him. I find my painted toenails very fascinating at this point in time. "Look at me." Harry says softly, patting my knee. I sigh heavily before pulling my gaze from the floor and locking eyes with his green irises. "Hey."

"Hi." I mumble, my cheeks burning hot and probably looking like tomatoes. I don't know if I should bring it up or just act like nothing happened. It's kind of hard to act like nothing happened when I ran out of that room so fast I probably gave Harry whiplash. "So, um, about that..." I begin, my voice trailing off into silence as I stare over at him. I find it hard to talk about, and even harder to apologize. Should I even apologize? I couldn't control myself and it's not like I didn't enjoy it? But maybe Harry didn't enjoy it.

"Did you seriously orgasm?"

My jaw drops at his direct question, and I'm surprised to see that his face is filled with amusement. So, he's not mad? I try to answer but simply groan and drop my head into my hands.

"Don't say that word." I blush, curling into a small ball in hopes that I may actually disappear.

"Sorry, but did you-"

"Yes." I groan out, lifting my head and allowing it to fall back as I pout. "Okay, yes, I did. I couldn't control myself." Harry begins laughing before apologizing and trying to stop himself.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't be laughing." He says, still trying to stop.

I find myself smiling with him, unable to stay annoyed when there's a large smile on his perfect lips. Finally, after a minute he regained his composure and the smile faded from his lips.

"Listen, I'm sorry for what happened in there." I begin again. Harry shakes his head quickly and reaches forward, grabbing my hands in his.

"Don't apologize. It's normal, right? Being extra horny-"

"Harry!" I cut him off, whining.

I have no problem with swearing or anything like that, it's just when it comes to dirty talk I get really flustered and embarrassed.

"Sorry, but still, completely normal. Next time all you have to do is ask." I send a glare his way as an amused look takes over his features again. "Besides," He tugs at my hands so that I fall into his lap. His lips tickle my ear causing me to shiver. I need a cold shower, "it was pretty hot."

"Okay." I jump off of Harry's lap and point towards the door as I walk towards it. "I'm going to bed now. Let's never talk about this again, yes? Okay. Goodnight."

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