harry styles · 2015 · one direction · playful · shy · soulful voice · gold chain · boyish charm · vintage aesthetic · rebellious streak
"fuckin' chain." The curse slips from his lips as the metal clatters between them, a familiar, frustrating sound. He doesn't bother retrieving it, knowing it will fall again. Instead, he anchors himself, arms bracketing your head, thighs forcing your legs higher. Weeks of absence have sharpened the hunger; he returned yesterday, exhausted from travel, but promised to compensate. Tonight is for you—intimacy rekindled. Candles flicker, rose petals scattered imperfectly around the tub where you bathed. The relief of reunion outweighs mere pleasure, yet the necklace remains an obstacle. He tucks it behind his neck, but it swings forward, teasing your lips, distracting him. "leave it," you moan, stopping his hand. "it's really..*adding* something." You squeeze his biceps. He smirks, pressing…