Harry lay naked, sprawled across his unmade bed. His hand absent-mindedly stroked the sheets on the other side of the half-empty bed while he thought about how he wished they could be stroking her, instead.
Valeri had left him exactly twenty-three hours and fifty-five minutes earlier. Five more minutes, and it would be a whole day. And maybe then, when she'd actually been gone for a whole day, he might finally be able to admit to himself that she truly wasn't coming back.
They had had a fight, which was nothing unusual. With a relationship like a powder keg, it didn't take much to set the two of them off. The arguments were explosive, the sex was incendiary. But there had been no furniture broken in this fight. No clothes had been torn. No knick-knacks had been thrown against the wall in anger, or smashed to the floor in their rush to empty the nearest flat surface to hold their writhing bodies. No fight had ever ended like this in the past. She'd never cried over one of their fights before. And she had never before ended a fight by pulling out her old trunk, loading it with everything she owned, and leaving him behind.
It had been too much of a shock for Harry to believe it. That's why he hadn't stopped her. That's why he hadn't gone down on his knees and begged her to stay. That's why he'd let her walk out the door. That's why he hadn't moved in twenty-three hours and fifty-five minutes. He kept waiting to wake up and find that it was a nightmare, and that he and his lover had *not* had a horrible fight that had ended in her leaving him. He held on to the hope that he'd wake up with Valeri's delectable body curled against his like always, her long hair tangled around the both of them, and a suggestive smile on her lips as she offered to 'comfort' him after his nightmare and make every scary memory melt away.
Harry groaned as the thought of Valeri 'comforting' him made his cock harden completely yet again. They'd been having sex when the fight started. He closed his eyes and whimpered softly as he remembered it. Valeri had gotten back into town from her assignment that afternoon. He hadn't been expecting her for another few days and been thrilled (not to mention, instantly aroused) when he got her sms saying that she had returned safely, and that she planned to sleep until he got home from work. Harry had known exactly what that meant. Valeri put everything she had into her work and was always exhausted after. Sleep would recharge her energy.
When he arrived home from he started stripping off his clothes as soon as he closed the door of the apartment behind him. His tie was dropped by the door. His shoes were kicked off in the direction of the living room. His jacket lay in a heap in the hallway, followed closely behind by his shirt, his trousers, one sock, the other sock, and finally his boxers as he reached the bedroom door.
She'd been fast asleep, lying on her back on the bed, without even the pretense of a sheet covering her naked body. Harry was, literally, salivating just at the sight of her after nearly a two-week absence, but had forced himself not to pounce on her immediately, no matter how sorely he was tempted. His girl loved to be teased, and there was nothing he wouldn't do to bring her pleasure.
He had started with her feet, left first, then right, firmly massaging the arches while he placed a reverent kiss each toe. She didn't wake right away, but she did moan in pleasure as her body shifted on the bed. Her eyes started to flutter open when he wrapped his lips around her ankle bone, and by the time he started massaging her calves, she was following his movements with hungry eyes and a lazy, impossibly sensual grin. His hands moved to her thighs at the same moment that his face moved forward to rest between them, deeply inhaling the familiar fragrance of her arousal as he nuzzled his nose against her soft curls.
Her fingers slipped into his hair, fingernails scraping against his scalp and the back of his neck in the way that made him shiver, and he was just about to return the favor and make her shiver and moan and whimper and (if he was lucky) maybe even beg… when there was the unmistakable of sms. Harry has one message signal for those who were on his list of contacts. He very often gets messages from fans. Some were sweet and harmless but most of them were with pictures of naked girls or random suggestions and communications. They are amused him and he always read them for hours deleted some of them or saying sorts of phrases kind like "Awesome body", "Louis, look what she doing!". No matters how much Valeri ask them change the number or simply ignore these messages and it would be really great if Harry didn't give his number to fans but he didn't listen to Valerie. And this times the same thing. He looked up from Valerie and took the phone off the nightstand.
The clock ticked slowly, inexorably counting off the seconds. Twenty-three hours and fifty-six minutes. Fifty-seven. Fifty-eight. Fifty-nine minutes, and a tear formed in his eye. He practically held his breath for the next sixty seconds, hoping that something would change, that time would stop or that the door would open or that the world would end, anything that would keep him from having to accept that she had left him and wasn't going to come back. Holding his breath did no good. The seconds continued to pass, and before long, it had been twenty-four hours that she was gone. He groaned as he rolled over, the biggest movement he had demonstrated in hours. He groaned again as his erection rubbed against the sheet. As if he needed yet another thing to make this the worst day of his life, he had an erection that wouldn't quit.
He had been so hard the day before, thinking about coming home and making love to Valeri, and it seemed as if he got only harder when he got home to find her naked in bed. Even the argument after the sms arrived had done nothing to make him soften; arguing with Valeri always aroused him. He'd still been on the bed, his mouth hanging open and his aching cock pointing out proudly when the apartment reverberated with the sound of the door slamming behind her. Lying in the bed where he had shared so many ecstatic nights with Valeri kept his erection at a minimum of half-mast the entire time, and spending twenty-four hours without release was uncomfortable at best.
He had tried 'to take the matter in hand' all day long, but he hadn't had any luck. He hadn't expected to. All of Valeri's out of town assignments had taught him the hard lesson that he was too accustomed to Valeri's touch on his body, and the feel of her soft, warm hands against his skin, and the blazing perfection of her body closed around his erection to find true pleasure in anything else. Every inch of Valeri was warm and yielding and soft as silk to rub against or rub inside. His touch simply didn't satisfy him. His hands, along with his thoughts and fertile imagination, were enough to bring him to a fevered pitch of desire, but only Valeri could bring him release. When she was gone on assignment, the only way he was able to keep from exploding from sexual frustration was by stimulating himself with something of hers.
He'd touch her things, running his hands over the papers scattered on her desk, tracing his fingers over the notes written in her small, precise handwriting. Sometimes, he'd position himself in their closet, burying his face in the soft material of her shirts and skirts, rubbing himself against the material while he breathed in her scent. Often, he'd wank in the shower using her body wash on one of her washcloths. The best option, however, was the one that he used the least.
Sheets that smelled like Valeri and sex got him off like nothing else, short of Valeri, herself. When he missed her so badly he couldn't stand it anymore, he'd pull the sheets loose from the mattress and wrap them around his body, covering his skin in the smell of her and him and *them* together. He'd remember all the things they had done to make the sheets smell like that, and his orgasm would literally explode out of him, draining him to the point where he would, almost invariably, pass out.
Usually when she woke him, he'd pounce on her immediately, taking her on the bed, the floor, the couch, the large, cushy chair by the window, her desk, or any other vaguely flat surface he could find. Hours later when Valeri convinced him that she simply *couldn't* stay conscious through another orgasm, they'd put fresh sheets on the bed and then go to sleep with his body curled possessively around hers until they gathered enough energy for round two. He hated that he needs to go on tours so often, and she often disappears at work and at home when they met, it was bliss. They missed each other. She was the last year of study at the university and worked that's why they are so rarely seen.
But she wasn't coming home this time. She had left him, and taken every piece of herself with her. There was nothing left he could comfort himself with: no photographs, no clothes or trinkets, no hairbrush with those curly, familiar strands, no soap in the bathroom carrying her scent, no stationary, no books, no *anything* that felt or smelled like her. Even the sheets on the bed (she had obviously changed them when she got home) carried nothing more than the faintest trace of her scent. There was nothing left of her. Nothing left behind for her to come back for, except for him, and he, obviously, was something she no longer wished to keep.
With his mind focused on his depression, his body responded on autopilot to roll over again and release the pressure off his sensitive erection. Unfortunately, he wasn't paying much attention, and he rolled straight off the bed to land with a thump on the floor. He just lay there on the floor for a long moment, laughing bitterly at himself and how pathetic he had become. But when he turned his head, the laughter died on his lips as he caught sight of it. The scarf.
It was a simple little thing, just a small scrap of scarlet silk barely long enough to tie around Valeri's elegantly slender neck, but it was Valeri's favorite. She had bought it for herself when she was twelve years old. It was the first time she had visited France. The scarf was a souvenir.
And just a week and a half before, the day before Valeri left on her assignment, Harry had spent all night touching and teasing and pleasuring every inch of his beautiful witch with that very same scarf, caressing her through the immeasurably soft material until she was completely undone, trembling and begging in his arms. When she reached that point, the scarf was discarded while Harry shagged her into unconsciousness. The scarf remained forgotten where it had fallen behind the bed, and had escaped unnoticed when Valeri packed her things.
Harry snatched at the scarf eagerly, holding it up to his nose and inhaling blissfully. His forgotten erection twitched painfully at the scent of Valeri covering the material. Eagerly, he rubbed his face against the material and groaned in pleasure. The softness of the material combined with the smell of Valeri's release was almost enough to let him image he was rubbing his face against her thighs, teasing her with the stimulation before arriving at his final prize. With a groan of pleasure, he ghosted the scarf down to his neck, trailing it lightly over the skin and imagining it was Valeri, leaving a trail of baby kisses as she explored him to her heart's content.
Harry's breathing grew labored as he scrambled back up onto the bed, keeping his eyes closed as he continued the fantasy. One hand slipped down to grip his aching erection while the other hand brought the scarf back up to his nose for a quick, deep sniff before lowering it back onto his torso to tease and torment his erect nipples through the silk. The hand stroking his erection tightened as pleasure shot through his body at the sensation and he groaned Valeri's name, over and over again.
Harry rubbed his face against it blissfully, soaking in the scent and the softness while his hand teased his body through the material. His neck, shoulders, chest, abs, and thighs trembled in pleasure as he groped them through the silk, imitating the sweet perfection of Valeri's remembered touch.
There was a very large part of him wanted to draw this out, to tease every inch of his body over and over again with the Valeri-soft silk and feed the illusion that he had his love in his arms, but his erection had grown downright painful, and he knew it couldn't wait much longer. Every muscle in his body was tense and strained, his breath came in pants, and tears had formed in the corners of his eyes at the mingled pleasure and pain of holding off his orgasm. His erection was swollen to an almost frightening extent, and Harry knew the moment had come.
His right hand dropped away from his erection to his balls as his left hand slid down to enclose the silk-covered hardness. Moaning Valeri's name in a swelling crescendo, he gripped the silk around his cock and tugged hard, literally screaming as his orgasm released, tearing through him as he came. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over Harry and he literally sobbed as his body drained itself completely. Then his hips stopped jerking and his erection deflated and the tears of release turned into aching soul-deep sobs of sadness and loneliness while he continued to cry out Valeri's name. She was gone. She was really, truly gone from him and that was the last release she would give him, the last pleasure he would be able to take in his beautiful woman who he loved so dearly.
The pain blocked out everything else, to the point where he didn't hear the footsteps approaching the bed, or the shift of the mattress as someone climbed onto the bed. He wasn't even aware, at first, of the hand stroking its way through his hair while murmuring gentle, soothing words. It was the lips that finally managed to catch his attention. Soft, warm, unforgettably familiar lips brushed against his hair, his neck, and just behind his ear in that little spot where he was ticklish. The feel of those lips made the sobs stop as abruptly as if a switch had been turned off while Harry held his breath and lifted his head, wondering if he had finally managed to drive himself mad.
His eyes locked with that familiar cinnamon gaze and he decided he really didn't care if he was crazy or not. Insanity seemed rather pleasant, thus far, and more pleasant still when his beautiful illusion transferred her kisses to his face, kissing away the traces of the tears while telling him over and over again that she was sorry, so terribly sorry, and could he ever forgive her? He answered by wrapping his arms around her, pleased that his illusion felt real enough to touch as he cradled her body against his, humming softly in pleasure as he nuzzled her hair.
"This is nice," he sighed. "Almost feels real."
Valeri pulled back, startled. "Almost?"
Harry nodded. "I never knew insanity was so enjoyable."
"Insanity?"
Harry frowned at her response. "Are you going to keep repeating everything that I say? Because the real Valeri wouldn't do that."
"Harry, I am the real Valeri!" his lovely illusion insisted, growing increasingly bewildered when Harry smiled again, obviously pleased.
"Oh, that's much better. That sounded just like her."
"Why do you think I'm not real?" Valeri asked, trying a different tack.
"Because the real Valeri isn't coming back here. She doesn't want me anymore," Harry stated calmly, his hands happily occupied playing with her hair. "That's why she left. If she was just angry, she would have stayed and we'd have argued it out, like always. But she didn't stay this time. She left. And she took everything with her so she wouldn't have to come back. That must mean she doesn't want me anymore."
This time it was the illusion's eyes that filled with tears. "Oh Harry, that's not true," she insisted, cuddling closer to him while stroking his face gently with the tips of her fingers.
"Why else would she leave?"
"Maybe because she thought you didn't love her anymore?" Valeri offered, her voice cracking a bit in spite of herself. "And she… she spent her whole assignment working as quickly as she could because she wanted to come home early to be with you, and meanwhile, you were at the club with blond girl, and—"
"I never had an affair with someone," Harry interrupted.
"You… you didn't?"
"Of course not. Why on earth would Valeri think that?"
"But all of these photos, messages that people have sent me, the video where you put your arms around her and dance with her ..."
"It wasn't someone blond girl it was a Niall's cousin. I met her at the club, which, by the way I was with Louis and Eleanor, but then they are gone. And I told her how I and Valerie fell in love. She was impressed. But she's sixteen and she's Niall's cousin - I think this is the age for girls full of romance."
"And… that's all?"
"Well, I think we had some biscuits along with the scones, but I really don't see why—"
"You didn't sleep with her?" Valeri interjected.
"No, I didn't sleep with her. She's sixteen! What kind of pervert do you think I am?"
"But she's…"
"She's what?"
"She's beautiful," Valeri whispered her eyes downcast.
"Yes," Harry agreed with a puzzled look on his face. "She is. And so is her sister who, by the way, I haven't slept with, either."
"And I… I mean, *her*… I mean… Valeri's not… that is to say, she isn't…"
"Isn't what?" Harry demanded, becoming more confused and impatient by the minute.
"Isn't beautiful."
"What are you talking about?"
"Valeri isn't beautiful, alright?" Valeri stated, starting to get a bit aggravated herself. Just because she knew she wasn't beautiful didn't mean she was all that comfortable talking about it. It was rather like poking at a bruise that never quite goes away. "She is not beautiful but the other girls, girls, whom you see every day – they are!"
"Not as beautiful as Valeri," Harry insisted.
Valeri looked at him in shock. "Merlin, you really *have* gone crazy," she whispered.
Harry shook his head impatiently. "Of course I have; how else could I be having a conversation with a Valeri-shaped figment of my imagination? But it's not crazy to say that Valeri's beautiful. So are you, for that matter, even if you're not real."
"I'm not beautiful," Valeri insisted, shaking her head. "And neither is she," she added hastily a moment later.
"But you *are*," Harry replied softly, reaching a hand up to caress her face. "You… you won't disappear if I show you, will you? Because I want to, so badly, but I don't want you to disappear. You're not real, but you're the closest I can get to the real thing, and—"
Valeri cut him off with a gentle kiss to his lips. "I won't disappear," she promised.
Harry returned the kiss, with interest, sliding his body on top of hers. "Let me show you how beautiful you are?" he pleaded.
She looked away, suddenly bashful. "I… I'm not," she insisted weakly.
"You are," he answered, smiling sweetly. "I'll show you. Can I…" his voice trailed off for a moment, and when he raised his eyes to look at her again, he looked almost bashful. "Can I pretend that you're real? That you're really my Valeri?"
"I am. I'm yours," Valeri whispered in reply. "All yours. Your Valeri."
The scarf was crumpled between them, but Harry gathered it up and smoothed it out. Covering his hands in the silk, he began gently stroking her face.
"Do you like that? Does it feel good?" he asked, smirking slightly when she purred in wordless agreement. "That's what you feel like. Soft as silk. You've got the most beautiful skin I've ever touched: so soft, so smooth, so perfect. I can't keep my hands off it. Especially here," he added as he dropped his mouth to her breast, sucking and nipping on one while he played with the other through his silk-encased hand, punctuating his caresses with softly spoken words.
"You have such gorgeous breasts. I feel like a pig sometimes, the way I stare at them, especially when we're in public. When we're at parties and you're in those sinful green dress robes of yours, I find myself trailing off in the middle of sentences, offending important dignitaries, and, one time, even getting beaten over the head by an elderly witch with a large handbag because I caught sight of the curve of your breasts across the room and forgot about everything else." Valeri whimpered softly under the triple pleasure of his touch, his mouth, and his unbearably sensual words.
He shifted his body lower on the bed until his face was level with her belly. He trailed the silk over it gently, but soon replaced the material with his lips, tracing soft kisses against the skin and nuzzling it gently with his face. "I've dreamt about growing a baby here," he whispered, his voice sounding almost reverent. "I never told you before; we never talked about children; but I can't stop myself from thinking how wonderful it would be to have children with you, babies that would be *ours*. Yours and mine. Sometimes I pass pregnant women on the street and think how gorgeous you would look like that, big with our child." He pressed one more painstakingly gentle kiss against her belly before sliding down further on her body.
Valeri tensed with anticipation and lifted her hips eagerly when she felt his breath between her legs, but he merely slid the scarf underneath her hips before bypassing that area to trail a series of kisses down her thigh from her hipbone to her knee. "I love your legs," he purred. "I lose my mind every time you wrap them around me when I'm inside you. Feels so good. But they really drive me crazy when I watch you walk. I'd recognize your walk anywhere: fast and confident, with just enough sway in your hips so that no one can help noticing your delectable arse." His hands cupped her backside underneath the scarf, squeezing it gently through the material. "I'm always tempted to walk right behind you, so no other man can ogle you, but then I wouldn't be able to enjoy the view myself. And it is a gorgeous view."
He tugged on the scarf, forcing her hips to rise while he lowered his head. He planted a soft kiss on her curls before lowering her hips, lifting one of the edges of the scarf that lay spread out to the side. He trailed the tip over the lips of her pussy, not opening them but merely caressing them with the silk. "Remember the night before your assignment?" Harry murmured in a breathless tone. "Remember the things I did to you with this scarf? The way I cut off your senses one by one until you couldn't see, couldn't speak, couldn't hear or taste, couldn't do *anything* but feel? Remember the way I slid it inside you with my fingers? The way I dragged it across your flesh? And then, at the end, the way I wrapped it around my cock and fucked you with it?" Valeri moaned as her hips bucked up, but Harry refused to give her the pressure she craved.
"I won't be doing that tonight," he whispered. "I want you too badly to tease. I need you too desperately to hold anything back. Harry's hand dropped the silk as he shifted his body fully on top of her, so they were face to face. "Gods, you're beautiful," he whispered. "Your mesmerizing eyes, your gorgeous, tempting mouth, that delicious curve of your neck, and the way your hair frames your face when it's spread out against the pillow. You look like an angel. A fallen angel, fallen right into my bed. And I'll keep you here as long as I can." Without warning, he slid fully inside her, causing both of them to groan in pleasure. Harry buried his face in the curve of her neck, muffling his words, but Valeri still heard him clearly.
"I won't let you go." He pulled out, and drove into her harder, starting a forceful, almost desperate rhythm between their bodies. "Being inside you is the closest a human will ever get to heaven, and I refuse to give that up. I don't care that you're not real. I don't care that I'm going out of my mind. All I care about is keeping you. The real Valeri doesn't want me anymore, but you're still here, still with me. And I won't let you go."
Valeri babbled soft words of comfort in his ear, telling him that she'd never leave him, that she loved him, that she never wanted to be anywhere other than in his arms. He sighed in pleasure at her words, holding her closer, driving into her deeper, and thanking whatever gods existed for such a happy insanity. Even though it wasn't real, it was still far more than he deserved. He reached a hand down between their bodies, seeking out her clit. Even though she was an illusion, he still ached to please her. He smiled in satisfaction at the sound of her keening and the feel of her muscles tightening around him, smoother than silk, encasing him in pure pleasure as he reached his peak. Panting slightly, he was in the process of covering her face in soft kisses when he was distracted by a loud pop from the living room.
"Harry?" a familiar voice questioned. "Where are you, mate? My date with Elleanor cancelled on me so I thought I'd pop by and see if you were up for grabbing a bite to—" The bedroom door opened to reveal Louis Tomlinson. "Jesus!" he exclaimed when he caught sight of the still-entwined couple on the bed. Always the gentlemen, he immediately and deliberately stepped back out of the doorway, out of view of the bed. "Valeri! You're home early," he stammered.
Valeri giggled. "Hi, Louis!" she called cheerfully. "Don't suppose you could chuck in my clothes from the living room, could you?"
"Clothes? Oh, right! Here you go!" Moments later, a bundle of clothing flew through the doorway into the bedroom.
Valeri squirmed underneath Harry. "Let me up, love, so I can get dressed." Numbly, Harry obeyed. Something in this situation didn't make sense, but with his mind hazy from his explosive orgasm, he was having trouble figuring out what.
Quickly and efficiently, Valeri slipped into her jeans and t-shirt (leaving off her bra and panties, Harry noticed) and tossed Harry his bathrobe from the closet, which he obediently put on.
"It's alright, Louis," Valeri announced, opening the bedroom door. "We're both decent now."
"The two of you? Decent? I know better than to believe that!" Louis smirked, crossing the room to plant a kiss on her cheek. "Welcome home, milady. When did you get back?"
"Just yesterday," Valeri answered. "We got finished early."
Harry entered the doorway, a bewildered look on his face. He had finally realized what bothered him about the situation. "You see her?" he questioned Louis urgently.
Louis rolled his eyes. "Yes, Harry. I caught a glimpse of your girl. I'm sorry, alright? I didn't mean to. But how was I supposed to know she had gotten home early? Besides, I barely saw anything more than your scrawny arse. Be an angel, love," he said, turning to Valeri, "next time, you be on top." He leered at her playfully. "I daresay I'd like that view much better."
Valeri rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to reply, but was distracted when Harry rather abruptly sat down on the couch, wearing a very dazed appearance.
"You're real?" he whispered, looking at Valeri with a combination of fear and hope.
"Louis, maybe you'd better go," Valeri stated softly, never taking her eyes off of Harry. "I'll call you later."
Louis took one look at the couple and nodded his agreement.
"You're real," Harry repeated, his voice sounding more certain this time. Valeri nodded, crossing the room to sit beside him and take his hand.
"You came back," he stated, turning her hand over in his and tracing the lines of her palm with a careful fingertip. "Why?"
"I shouldn't have left in the first place," she admitted. "But thinking that you might have slept with Niall's cousin; might even be planning to sleep with she *again*; it just hurt so much that I couldn't stand it. I thought getting away would make it easier. But it only made it worse. I realized that running away wouldn't do any good, and decided we needed to talk it out, like we always do. That way, we could decide together whether what we have is worth saving or not."
"I never touched her," Harry interjected quietly.
"I know that now," Valeri assured him. "When I got home and saw you on the bed while you…" Unaccountably, Valeri blushed, and Harry couldn't stop a small grin from spreading across his face. One of Valeri's more adorable traits was how easily she blushed, no matter how many depraved things she was willing to do and have done to her in the height of passion. "You were… and you kept saying my name. It…" her blush grew darker, "… it turned me on. A lot. So I got undressed and stood in the doorway where I could watch. But then you came, and you started crying, and I just wanted to be close to you and make you stop hurting."
Harry nodded, remembering the way she had joined him in bed. "You said you thought I didn't love you, and that you believed I wanted to be with someone instead of you. You don't still think that, do you?"
Valeri shook her head. "No, Harry. I know you want to be with me."
"And you know there's no one else that I want, right? You know you're ten times more beautiful than any of those fools who hung on me. You do *know* that, don't you?"
Valeri blushed again and looked away. Harry cupped her chin in his hand and forced her to look at him again. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. What can I do to convince you of that?"
Valeri smiled tremulously. "Just love me," she answered.
A slow smirk blossomed on Harry's face. "I can do that." He shifted Valeri onto his lap, pulling her into a searing kiss. "I love you," he sighed into her ear. "I love you and you're gorgeous and I'm going to take you to bed and not let you out of it until you believe me."
Valeri giggled and tightened her arms around his neck. "I think that's a very sound plan," she concurred in her most studious tone, trying to maintain a serious countenance through the grin that threatened to break out over her face.
Lifting her into his arms, he carried her back into the bedroom, laying her out on the bed and joining her immediately. "I just thought of a wonderful way to convince both you and all world that you're the only witch for me," he commented as he slipped off his robe and slid a hand underneath her shirt.
"Mmm?" she murmured, barely paying attention to his words as she concentrated on his gorgeous body and wickedly gifted hands. "What's that, love?"
"Marry me," he replied, doubling his attentions to put her in as receptive a mood as possible. His plan fell through when she froze as the words finally processed.
"Did you just ask me to marry you?" she choked out in a strained voice.
"Yes," he confirmed, holding his breath while he waited for her answer. Fortunately, he didn't have long to wait.
"Yes!" she squealed, throwing herself in his arms and showering his face with kisses. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!"
Harry chuckled as he gathered her closer, planting a possessive kiss on her lips. "Excellent," he purred. Gently, he removed her from his lap, smiling reassuringly when she made noises of protest. Taking with bedside cabinets can from Coca-Cola and took out the iron little thing, he put it on Valeri's finger. "I'll buy you a diamond tomorrow," he promised, slipping the ring on her finger with a satisfied smile. "But this will have to do until then as proof that you're mine."
"Always yours, Harry," Valeri responded, lifting her hand to kiss the new ring on her finger. "Always."
Harry pulled her back onto his lap and drew her into another sweet kiss. Moments later, he pulled away with a chuckle. His eyes twinkled when Valeri looked at him questioningly. "You know, all my relatives will be extremely happy, especially my mother. She likes you" he explained with a smirk.
Valeri's eyes sparkled mischievously. "Really?" she asked.
"Oh yes," he answered, smugly.
"Can we start planning the wedding tonight?" she asked eagerly.
Harry laughed out loud. "Not tonight, love. We'll be busy tonight, celebrating the engagement." Deftly, he unbuttoned her jeans, slipping his fingers inside to show her just how he planned to celebrate.
"Oooh, yes," Valeri gasped, wriggling against his hand. "We'll plan tomorrow. We'll *celebrate* tonight."
"I love you, Valeri," Harry whispered. "Promise me you'll never leave me again."
"I promise," Valeri replied, planting a soft, chaste kiss against his lips while her hand tenderly caressed his cheek. "I'll never leave you again. I love you, Harry." He pulled her hand away from his face to press against his lips, kissing the ring that marked her as his. She responded by tugging his hand over for her to kiss, as well.
"Now," she stated, that mischievous twinkle back in her eyes. "Back to celebrating."
THE END