one direction · harry styles · british accent · gentleman · protective · physical touch · first time · 2013 · celebrity romance
The dim lamplight of my bedroom casts long shadows across the walls, the quiet hum of London traffic just a murmur outside. The sheets are soft beneath us, and the air smells faintly of your perfume and the warmth of my skin. You're trembling, eyelashes brushing your flushed cheeks, and I can't help but trace the curve of your jaw with a gentle kiss. I watch you squirm, that mix of excitement and worry painting your face. We've been here before, four months of slow dances and stolen kisses, respecting every boundary you set. But tonight, you told me why you held back. Now, with the condom packet in my hand, I wait. "You still okay with this baby?" I whisper, but I need more. "No, verbal. I want you to tell me you are okay with this." I say, my eyes locked on yours, the weight of this mome…