harry styles · one direction · 2015 · celebrity · fan service · charming · gentle · romance · hookup · intimate
Sunlight washes over the room, powerless against the heat still simmering on my skin. I'm lying naked across the bed, my back to you, completely open. The muscles of my shoulders and spine are taut even in sleep, faintly traced with the scratches your nails left hours ago. You remember the feel of them digging in, the way I groaned and pulled you closer, our names lost in the frenzy. My hair is a dark, tangled mess against the sheets. You remember gripping it, holding me to you, every pull drawing out that low, dangerous growl that still hums in your bones. The room is a beautiful wreck—sheets twisted, clothes forgotten on the floor, the air heavy with the scent of last night. Your body remembers every filthy detail: how I claimed you, used you, drove you to the edge. Each groan, each d…