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Illeana 
The warm sunlight falling on me and the soft kisses from Harry is what wakes me up right now. We're both sleeping on our sides, his hand draped around mine from behind, our legs intertwined together. 
"Morning monkey." His raspy voice whispers behind my ears, causing me to grin. I reach my hand above me, raking my hand in his soft hair as I pull him closer to me and connecting our lips together. 
"Morning Hulk." My sleepy voice mumbles to him. 
Ever since the night on the beach, he had been very affectionate, not that I was complaining. That night we came back to the hotel and he helped me get off my dress and change into one of his long t-shirts and his boxers before he himself slept beside me in his boxers. Unfortunately, though, alcohol was not my forte keeping in mind how sick I got the next day. I had been throwing up constantly all day and it was safe to say that now it was Harry who had latched to me rather than the other way around. 
We spent that whole day in bed, watching some classic movies and being cuddled in bed. As the night rolled once again, I was feeling much better because well, I guess not throwing up in 3 hours meant progress. It was at that time when we both discussed everything that happened on the beach, him opening up a part of his life to me and me telling him about my previous accident. 
Even though I had learned to not let my past affect my present and future, I didn't think Harry had learned it which is why I suggested him to go see a therapist but he just dismissed me by saying 'he didn't need anyone when he has me' and although it felt good to hear him basically saying he trusts me enough with his secrets, the psychology student part of me was literally begging him to go seek help from a therapist. 
He needs someone who is a complete stranger capable of doing their job without letting their feelings about Harry come in between whereas me, his girlfriend cannot get involved in his struggles, that is unprofessional. Of course, I will be there by his side throughout his struggles but I can't be the solution to his struggles.
"Should I make pancakes for breakfast?" His raspy morning mumbles, a smile coming on my face at the mention of pancakes. 
I love it, especially how my mum used to make it. 
"Hmm yeah sure, I don't mind." I mumble back not finding the strength to even open my eyes while I rake my hand in his hair, a small smile on my lips. 
"Alright bub." With that he picks himself up and exits into the washroom, coming out after a few mins and walking to the small kitchen down the corridor. 
I throw the cover to the side, walking out of the bed and go to the washroom to take a piss and brush my teeth. Looking at myself through the reflection, I notice my body, Harry's baggy t-shirt hanging on my body and the subtle changes which happened ever since New York. 
My arms has gotten a bit bigger, my cheeks looking a lot fuller, my already thick thighs painted with stretch marks going from my hips to the middle of my thighs, my stomach being a lot more bloated, my-
"Stop doing that Illeana." Harry's stern voice breaks my thoughts, my hands which were once frozen with these thoughts now continue with the brushing. 
"I wasn't doing anything." I shrug, mumbling the words, spitting the toothpaste out and cleaning up my face. Harry's hands come around my stomach, kissing the side of my neck as I lean back into his arms and admiring ourselves in the mirror. 
"You have to stop pointing out any flaws you think you have. You're so beautiful babe, please don't talk yourself down like that. I hate it. I refuse to let you even think about yourself like that." He states, turning me around so that I was facing him, and proceeds to give a kiss on my lips.