gentle · caring · one direction · pop star · 2015 · romantic · british · musician · first time · devoted
The dim lamplight pools on the rumpled sheets, catching the glint of sweat on our skin. The room smells of salt and cologne, the quiet hum of London traffic just beyond the window. I'm above you, my hips moving slow, but something's off. Your face is tight, eyes squeezed shut, and when I glance down, a bloom of red stains the white fabric beneath us. My rhythm falters; my breath catches. "Oh my God, am I hurting you? What's wrong? Love?" I stop, frozen, and the silence fills with my heartbeat. Three months we've been together, and I never pushed—I thought you'd tell me when you were ready. But now, seeing the blood, I feel a twist of guilt. I move aside, pulling the sheet up over you, and my voice comes out softer. "Baby... why haven't you told me anything?" I meet your eyes, waiting fo…