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Summary
I thought about the nights I had shared with Harry, and how different it felt, to be held by Zayn this way.
It was like all Harry did was give, give, give. He gave me his warmth, his kindness, gave me pleasure, gave me affection and reassurance. He had indulged me, indulged my fantasy, and, ever so generous, had offered me his time and allowed me in his sweet embrace.
Zayn was the opposite. All he seemed to do was take, take, take. Take my every thought, my every breath, and make it his. He was taking everything from me, hands greedy over all of my body, all of my soul. It was raw, and selfish. He wanted all of me only for himself, and somehow that was what was leaving me breathless and lightheaded. It made me want to strip down from all my lies and appearances, lay bare and offered him all I was.
or
It felt like travelling back to 12 years ago, to a place I once called Home, and then forgotten all about. Except you’re not here anymore.