Art & Oddity. @harianadimples - Tumblr Blog

R O S E S - Chapter V

WC: 13,162k || table of contents || Warning(s): mature content; forbidden love type of smut, little drops of angst here and there

Anna endured through the remaining hours of rehearsal by the prospect of seeing Harry at the end of the day. He'd managed to weasel his way into her mind no matter what she did. When performing scenes with her co-lead Patrick, who by no means had any resemblance to her Harry (Patrick had slicked back, raven hair, and brown eyes), she would picture him instead. Her crush on Harry had spread, infecting not only her heart but her mind too. She'd sometimes see the cameraman as Harry and saw him among the lighting crew too. Every extra was suddenly Harry. She swears she even saw his reflection in her gin and tonic.

When she returns to the hotel it's nearly nine in the evening.

"Oh, welcome back miss Rose," Dolores greets her from her spot behind the front desk.

"Good evening Dolores, any letters for me?" Anna asks as she stands by the elevator. She presses the button to go up and comes to a standstill.

"None today," Dolores replies.

The elevator chimes as it arrives. Anna waits for one of them to open, wondering which one Harry would be in. At last, she hears one of the doors open. She makes her way to the farthest elevator, anticipating Harry's appearance within, but her smile falters quickly when she sees Norman inside– and Harry with him.

"Oh, you're back already," Norman speaks up first, grinning when he sees Anna. She appears somewhat frazzled, which amuses Norman as he takes her hand, pulling her into the elevator. "I was just talking to Henry about you," Norman says, gesturing to Harry who bites on his tongue to keep himself from correcting Norman, not wanting to know what Norman would do if he were to dent his confidence.

"You usually work late when you're working from the hotel offices," Anna says, trying to sound casual in her response as she mulls over the fact she, Norman, and Harry were currently in one elevator together.

"Well, I put aside some time so I could have dinner with you when you returned. It'll have to be here in the lounge café since I still have a lot of work to do," Norman says. "I was waiting for you upstairs, but thought I'd just wait for you in the lobby, and here we are now."

"Right, then, do you mind waiting here while I go and freshen up?" Anna asks him.

"Sure, but hurry back," Norman says as he takes her by her waist and leans down to peck her cheek before leaving. Anna sighs in relief when he turns the corner, and quickly presses the button to close the elevator doors again. She presses her floor number before Harry can even try to reach for it.

"What did he say to you?" Anna asks him quietly.

"He asked about my shifts here operating the elevator. Apparently, his fiancé likes to go out on walks looking all pretty and irresistible, and he's under the impression that she doesn't go on these walks alone. I told him that I've only exchanged pleasantries with her, so I wouldn't know anything about these walks she goes on," Harry says.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think he'd pry," Anna sighs deeply with regret, "he mentioned his worries about me walking alone, but I tried assuring him that I was fine since I don't go very far. It's rich of him to be distrustful about my whereabouts and who I'm with like he wasn't literally sleeping with his personal assistant for months behind my back. Fair enough, I suppose I'm no better than he was," she murmurs, glancing at Harry with a small smile. "Am I a bad person for loving you?" She asks Harry with a timid voice. It's so soft that Harry's heart nearly breaks from how genuinely mournful she sounds.

"I don't think you are a bad person," Harry says.

"I think I am," Anna admits, "not because I think it's wrong to love you, but I feel like I'm betraying him by not loving him."

"That doesn't make you a bad person, it makes you a hypocrite," Harry points out. He looks at her with an expression that says, 'so what if we're hypocrites, I LOVE YOU'; his eyes smirk at her as he absentmindedly laces their fingers together and gives her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Yeah, thanks," Anna sighs, groaning, "God, this is all very complicated, and from here on out it'll only be difficult if Norman remains skeptical of me. He'll probably want to sleep with me just to appease his fragile ego." Her expression twists into one of distaste. It's so sudden that Harry chuckles as he pulls her towards his chest in an embrace that he hopes would comfort her, though he feels unsettled by the image of Anna and Norman being intimate. He scolds his brain, reminding himself who Norman was and who he is. "He's still your fiancé," Harry reminds her (and himself), "I can't necessarily keep you from him. I'm merely me," Harry sighs. "I don't have much to offer you."

"You're plenty enough. You have my whole heart Harry Styles," Anna pouts before kissing him.

"Thank you for reminding me, Ms. Rose, but what of your status as a hypocrite?" He teases her as she sighs deeply. "Honestly, I don't give a fuck. I'll embrace that title if it means I don't have to surrender my happiness to please a man whose heart I probably don't even have anymore," she mutters, "and perhaps, never had in the first place."

"You'll always have my whole heart, Anna," Harry says, "among other things. When things are a little less hectic, we should go out on a real date. Somewhere nice where no one knows us, and we can just forget for a while."

"That sounds real nice," Anna sighs, "I can't wait."

Their noses touch as they lean into each other with the same starry-eyed expression: it is certainly love.

...

Anna is distrustful of Norman's sudden change of demeanour.

Usually, after an argument, he'll mope around her for a few days before he eventually fucks her forgiveness out of her. It certainly never fixed their problems, but kept them on low heat; Norman only enjoyed the slow burn of their afflictions as it usually leads to great sex no matter the outcome; he's masochistic in that way. But where Norman couldn't see an issue, Anna could see that the rift between Norman's sexuality and her own couldn't be more obvious. His sexual prowess spawned from years of experience and experimentation, meanwhile, as Anna fell several years short of his senior, her experience was limited to just Norman (not counting her on-screen romantic partners of course because they don't necessarily count). She knew Norman had never been in a serious relationship prior to her, as he'd never been looking for one; he wasn't interested in monogamy either, but once he met Anna he vowed to change. In other words, she knew what she was getting into when they began their relationship, though, she'd argue, that she didn't fully understand what a relationship with a man of his nature would entail for her.

Of course, over the years she developed a better understanding of Norman. He'd never been the romantic type, so his façade didn't do much for Anna except alert her of when his intentions were to coax her to sleep with him or do some other favour for him. Though it seems even now, he's still full of surprises.

...

Norman and Anna take the elevator up to their apartment following their dinner, and it's relatively quiet between them.

"I have to get back to work," Norman says as they stop by their front door. "Unless you'd like to fool around, then I can make up an excuse to tell the boss," he smirks, knowing that he is the boss.

"Dinner was nice, but I'm still upset with you," Anna huffs, unlocking the door for herself to walk through.

"Oh, come on Anna, I finally did something your way. Give me a little credit here! You're always talking about this romantic bullshit and how much you wish I was a better boyfriend, and now fiancé, yet, even when I do something out of the kindness of my own heart, using up my precious time just to appease your needs, you still don't put out for me! If I didn't know any better, I'd think you're cheating on me!"

Anna tilts her head back as she howls in laughter. "Oh, my God!" she shakes her head in utter disbelief at the man-child standing in front of her. "I just knew that dinner was just your way of getting me to sleep with you."

"You're my fiancé, you're practically my wife. I'm entitled to receiving from you, and I'd like to have to not have to beg you every time I want to fuck you, only to be turned away because you're 'too tired," he complains, emphasizing the last two words in a high-pitched voice meant to mock her.

"You're not entitled to shit, acting like that just because you can't get what you want. How about you treat me like a proper human first instead of treating me like I'm some sort of pet or sex toy to you! You hardly treat me with any respect, and you constantly belittle me when your ego is on the line. I might have given in easily in the past, but that won't be the case anymore. How I choose to express myself and how much of myself I decide to share with someone will always be up to me. I am my own person. You have always been jealous of my success because you had barely a part in it. My talent speaks for itself, and there's no part of my talent that comes from you. Everything I have I've worked for myself, and I built myself from the ground up."

"Oh, please, Anna. Do you really think I had no part in your success? Who do you think found you the best manager in the business? Who do you think helped you gain more connections in the industry? Who do you think spoke with the studios, producers, casting directors, everyone and anyone, so you'd get the best roles in movies? Who do you think got you that spot on Broadway?" Norman lists off each instance of his outreach on his fingers, glaring at Anna who shies away from him when his voice becomes too loud. "I did, Anna, and neither of those times was to sleep with you. I love you, God damn it! You just annoy the hell out of me sometimes."

"Well, you have a funny way of showing me that you love me," Anna whispers as Norman sighs. "I love you, Anna, at the very least, I care about you," he says.

"Did you have that in mind whenever you kept going back to her?" Anna asks him, disregarding the woman's name entirely as it honestly could have been more than one woman at this point. Her question silences Norman as the two looked at each other as the truth resounds deeply within Norman's eyes. He always has that in mind, but he simply doesn't care. It's so easy to say you love someone, and they'll just believe you.

"I don't think your problem with the idea of me cheating on you comes from a place of love. You're only frightful of the idea that someone bested you in what you perceive as a game. You hate to think someone could make me genuinely fall in love with them, and that they wouldn't have to guilt me into feeling indebted to care for them. Instead, they'd only have to treat me with kindness and humility, and give me their whole heart for me to give my whole heart to them in return."

With that Anna closes the door on her glassy-eyed fiancé, sighing in deep relief as she turns on the lights in the apartment.

...

"I'm proud of you for standing up for yourself," Harry says.

He peers across the way at Anna as she stares out at the city below them. They'd decided to do a little sightseeing from the hotel roof instead, rather than walk since Norman was working in his office on the ground level of the hotel tonight and neither wanted to confront him again. Regardless, Anna doubted that she and Norman would cross paths anytime soon (she knew Norman had a small bed in his office for when he was too tired to come up to their apartment so he'd likely be staying there tonight). Their fight was explosive, and for once, productive. She'd finally confronted Norman on his mistreatment of her, and bringing the truth of his so-called affections into the light only made the case of her own infidelity even more reasonable, regardless of any hypocrisy.

"Let's not talk about him anymore," Anna says as she kicks her feet over the edge of the ventilation box she's perched on. "Tell me about your day," She insists cheerfully, "Did anything interesting happen when I was gone?"

"It's quite embarrassing for me to admit this but, I can't remember much from today because I've been so caught up in you. Honestly, I had a conversation about the weather with one of the guests– she couldn't have been farther from your resemblance being that she's probably eighty and was dressed in dark colours, and all I could see or think about was you. Completely unprovoked, you suddenly popped into my mind. I was trying to think of a good story to tell you this evening because I adore that cute look you give me when I tell a good story. Makes me feel like I'm somebody," Harry chuckles.

"I admittedly went through a similar day," Anna grins. "You ought to get out of my mind, I'm genuinely terrified now. But yes, you're supposed to tell me what you dreamt about last night. If you tell me your dream, I'll tell you mine."

"Alright, alright. We were in Lake Geneva within the isles of Switzerland, staying in the Villa Diodati blanketed by the affluence of mother nature. The dewy grass smelt like spring morning because it had rained the night before. The trees around the property were like Gods gracing the earth with spindling arms bearing the sweetest fruits. Our garden was vast with every species of flower possible alive. You were in one of your floral dresses with a large sun hat on, dancing through the field while I painted the scene for you to put up in the villa with the rest. You're the happiest you've ever looked. Freer than you've ever been. I feel the same of course, and I couldn't be more in love."

Harry's voice fades off as Anna watches him begin to get lost in his memory of his dream. He has a far-off look in his eyes, his lips firmly set in a smile that allows his dimple to show, and it's enough for Anna to walk over to Harry and kiss on because he's looking more precious than usual. The way he speaks of her being in his dream makes her heart swell and cheeks warm.

"I thought you'd say something about what you did after I got you all worked up last night, but this is nice too," Anna murmurs as she holds Harry's face in her hands. There's a sizable difference between them that she finds nice.

"Don't get me wrong, we made love on every inch of that Villa," Harry says with a bigger grin, "you didn't let me finish before you attacked me with kisses."

Anna laughs and kisses Harry again anyway.

"Okay! Okay! Jeez, Louise! I know I'm irresistible, but paws off the money maker!" Harry jokingly attempts to pry Anna away from him, only to grab her around the waist and pull her into his lap so they can kiss properly.

They move to sit next to each other as they continue to talk. Neither wanting to end the night just yet and so they bring up any excuse to prolong their conversation.

"I may have recently proclaimed my super fan status by telling James that you love wine with your cheesecake," Harry chuckles, shaking his head. "He'd been going on and on about all these rumours about you that he picked up through the grapevine, and so I thought I'd express that the only way he'd get to know the 'real' you and not the person people have drawn up through rumours, is by simply speaking to you as I did. He may have the impression now that I've hopelessly fallen in love with you. He wasn't very happy knowing I'm competition, especially since we see each other often in the elevators. James's always had a jealous tick."

"He isn't the kind of friend who'd allow another person to come between you two and your friendship, is he?" Anna asks him.

"I'd hope he isn't. However, he's not the kind to accept a loss," Harry sighs, shaking his head. "I hate the thought of breaking his heart, but love shouldn't be a game when feelings are involved. I don't want to treat our relationship like it's a goal. I want to be with you because I love you, not because I want to win against my best friend or prove a point, you know?"

"I know, and I love you too," Anna says, though she's quite breathless and out of it as she gazes at Harry, completely mesmerized by the existence of a person like him.

"What?" Harry asks her when he notices her staring.

"Nothing," She grins, leaning in to kiss him again.

...

The tension between Anna and Norman worsened throughout the rest of the month.

Norman refused to apologize and let the truth damage his ego, and Anna refused to surrender her position against him. The last she saw of him was when he returned to their apartment that night to gather some of his clothes. He came up a quarter to four expecting Anna to be asleep, but her mind was still reeling over the events of that day so she hardly slept, but she pretended long enough to watch him move around their bedroom, picking up articles of clothing and whatever else he needed before eventually leaving.

Other than that night, Anna saw him a few times when she'd leave for work; he'd be on his way to work himself, and wouldn't spare her a glance. She presumed he was now staying in one of the vacant rooms. She didn't attempt to maintain a semblance of normalcy between them as she was aware that she'd only appear as a figure of someone's ideation of her regardless of how she presents herself. Strangers tend to take what they see and 'know,' and use their half-drawn vision of a person to speculate; it's entertaining for them when these are real people and real relationships.

Anna has come to know most of the hotel staff on a more familial level. She's closest to Harry without question, having spent the most time with him. Second to Harry would have to be James who she sees more often in the elevators now that he's become punctual for his shifts, though they haven't had a chance for a proper sit down. At one point, she visited Harry while he was on break. He was in the worker's common room, speaking with a bell boy who was introduced to her as Elwood. She sat with the pair for the next few minutes, listening to Harry complain about some of the irritable guests. Since then it wasn't much of a surprise to any of the staff who'd come in to relax, to see Anna there with Harry. Sometimes she's brought a book with her to read while Harry naps or she eats with him, having brought him a packed lunch (cucumber sandwiches cut in small cubes, just how he likes them) and a bowl of blueberry and oats, and yogurt for herself.

While her personal life reached a pivotal point, her career couldn't have been flourishing more.

Her opening show is in less than a week's time, and she's in the middle of a small promotional tour. Her schedule lately is mostly various interviews with journalists for newspapers and magazines from the boroughs, and some even as far as California, who travelled to Manhattan to interview her and the cast. During this time, she and Harry couldn't see each other as often (and as late), even if the interviews were being conducted in one of the board meeting rooms in the hotel. Nevertheless, she still saw him every day in the elevators. They'd share pleasantries every morning, but most of their conversations were held between their eyes.

It's a quarter to seven when her interview with Dale, a reporter from the Brooklyn Times (the last one until the show runs) wraps up. She leaves the board room with William after exchanging goodbyes with the reporter and the others who were in the room.

"Tomorrow they want to do one last full rehearsal, then you'll have the day off before the show," William explains to her as they walk. "You've earned it. I've seen how much of your soul you've put into this show these past few months, and I'd say this promotional tour was a success."

"Well, I love what I do, no matter what," she sighs, with a tired smile. "I've been focusing on developing a balance between work and my personal life; that's what's kept me sane throughout all of this so far."

"Good, I've noticed you've been smiling more. Work is a commitment but it's not someone you can go home to," William chuckles.

She and William part ways as they approach the lobby. She stops in front of the elevators and watches William walk through the entrance of the hotel and disappear into his Lincoln. The door shuts behind him. His chauffeur enters the driver's side. As the car leaves, she presses the button for the elevator. The soft click that follows renews her impatience that she'd forgotten in the past hour.

An eagerness to finally get more than two minutes with Harry (which honestly outweighed her excitement about her last interview) had been tucked away in the back of her mind. It was great motivation to keep going in each interview after answering the same questions for each reporter who sat with her, but she couldn't wait to see Harry.

As she stands by the elevator, she watches the row of lights above the elevator doors go out with each floor the elevator descended on. She's soon joined by two other guests who wait nearby, dampening her mood only slightly since she hoped to be alone with Harry when the elevator came down, but she brushes it off when the elevator arrives; she can wait some more. The elevator chimes as the doors open. Several guests spill out making the front of the hotel look livelier. Anna smiles and stands aside as they pass her. She can sense Harry looking at her from inside the elevator, and feels almost drawn to him by their shared sense of impatience as she finally walks in along with the two other guests.

"Afternoon, afternoon," Harry greets each of the guests with a warm smile and a tip of his hat. His gaze settles on Anna who's leaning on the opposite wall facing him. "Af-ter-noon," He tells her but says the word slower, and maybe it's just in her head, but she feels like the guests who're with them can sense the tension between them. She kind of likes it. Maybe even love it. She feels caught like she's being judged for feeling aroused by Harry's voice. And shit she can't wait to kiss that harrying smile off his face.

The elevator shakes as it begins to ascend; she notices that Harry hasn't pressed the button for the seventeenth floor. The two guests eventually get off on the fourteenth floor, leaving Anna and Harry on their own as the doors close again. Anna pushes herself forward and approaches Harry with a small smile. With his outstretched hands, he anchors her by her fingers, pulling her towards him.

"Hey," she whispers to Harry and kisses him like he's a breath of fresh air. Harry chuckles and lets the elevator stall to give them more time. "You looked so beautiful today. I've been wanting to tell you that since this morning," he tells her as he takes her in.

"Thank you, William informed me much too late that this reporter would be accompanied by a photographer. I hardly look any different from how I look when I'm dressed down," Anna huffs. Her makeup was done the same fashion as always, though it's twice as thick to appear better in the photographs. Her choice of attire is a blood-red dress decorated with large black outlines of rosebuds; red shows up wonderfully in a black and white film.

"I don't think there's an issue in that. You aren't the uppity type and your attire reflects that" Harry says.

"I suppose. I do feel like I've got a mask on though. I'll be washing my face with extra consideration for my pores when I get upstairs," Anna sighs as she taps the parts of her face where her makeup has begun to break down from her oiliness and the long day.

"I haven't got any lipstick on me, do I?" Harry asks as he purses his lips. Anna hums in thought as she takes his face between her fingers and inspects them closely. There's only a faint imprint of her red lipstick on the peaks of his lips, yet she kisses his pout until they become a deeper shade of magenta. Harry begins laughing when he realizes her intent. "Don't think you kissed me enough, lovie–." Harry draws his words in a playful manner but quiets himself to a low hum when she kisses him more passionately.

Anna clearly intends on leaving a stain on his lips, which frightens him and turns him on all the same.

When the elevator begins to descend again (someone's pressed the button for the elevator), Anna pulls away with a heavy sigh. Harry chuckles and gives her nose a light peck. His light touch thrills Anna and her cheeks heat up as they hide in her hands. She slides away from Harry and quietly watches his reflection as he composes himself in the metal panel of the elevator.

Surely enough his lips looked a darker pink than usual, with a faint ring of red bleeding into his moustache area and chin. Harry blows a breath as he inspects the stain closer. He sees a reflection of Anna giggling quietly into her hands through the metal panel of the elevator and shakes his head at his girl with a small smile.

"You're going to get me killed one day," he says, as he tries to wipe the edge of his mouth at least, so his lips didn't look so done in. He didn't mind the lipstick transfer much but he'd have preferred to look more 'Marlene Dietrich' and less 'Marlene Dietrich after a day'.

"I didn't think it would stain!" Anna laughs as she hugs her man from behind. "If it bothers you, you can clean it off with a wet washcloth and some soap," she tells him.

"It's fine," Harry sighs, giving her hands a gentle pat as he takes in their appearances in the metal panel. "Your lipstick is smudged too," he adds, "makes it obvious that we were kissing," he says, smirking.

"Suppose it does," Anna shrugs and hides her smile on his shoulder.

"S'kinda nice, though. Bit of a mess but proof like no other that I am irresistible to you," Harry says, earning a playful shove from her, causing him to chuckle. "Oh, you know you love me."

"Unfortunately, I do," Anna sighs, though she can't keep a smile down when she sees Harry making kissy faces towards her in their reflection. "So, I have one last full rehearsal tomorrow, then I have the day off, and I'll be all yours," she says, smiling, "got any ideas where we can have our first date?"

"I think we're technically on like date one-hundred and nine," he says.

Anna's gaze lingers on Harry for a short moment. Sometimes she needs reminding that he's a real person whenever he acts like this. 'This,' is entirely unfamiliar to Anna, because she didn't believe those good men like Harry existed. This is, of course, due in part to her lack of faith in Norman; seeing how accomplished and blessed he is, and how his narcissism ruins the picture every time. As well as the other businessmen and industry men she runs into through her career. Sure, good men still exist in this world, but they weren't going to be any of the men around her– but Harry– the universe made an exception with him.

"I guess so–," she begins but pauses when the elevator slows to a stop.

The doors open revealing James waiting for the elevator. He looks at Harry and Anna with a fluster of emotions. While Anna removes herself from Harry, she senses tension between the men as their stare down holds. Although she can't hear their silent conversation, she believes James's trying to make sense of what he's seeing. Harry keeps himself collected, innocently greeting James with an outstretched hand. Anna, on the other hand, felt uncertain of the seemingly peaceful nature between the men.

"Sorry, I'm late. It took some persuading to get Margaret to let me work the graveyard shift. She said I wasn't reliable. Can you believe that shit?" James huffs as he enters the elevator.

"Thanks for doing this man," Harry says as he gives James a pat on the shoulder. "I owe you one."

"Nah, you've covered my morning shift for me more than I can count. Most of the time without me having to ask," James sighs.

"You'd do the same for me, I mean you are," Harry chuckles. "I'm gonna go clock out, then head to my room. I'll see you two around." Harry exits the elevator and turns the corner before she can blink. She's taken aback by how sudden Harry left, but she supposes he did what he did to throw James off. But she's not so sure ignoring James's questioning look would erase the image in his mind.

"Heading up?" James asks her, tearing her away from her thoughts.

She nods, yes, in answer, (genuinely) yawning as her long day finally catches up with her. "Sorry," she apologizes, slack-jawed as she cups her hand over her mouth.

"It's alright, I understand. You must be exhausted from how much you get around," James says.

"Excuse me?" Anna glances at James, noticing that he's staring at her with an odd expression.

"You know, back and forth from the theatre and the hotel. Just think it must be tiring," James says.

"Ah, it's not so bad after a while. You get used to the whole routine of it," she says with a shrug. "There's never an absence of that feeling of coming home to something, like, you push through the day so you can come home to this one good feeling."

The elevator chimes as it opens on the seventeenth floor.

"Have a good night James," Anna says, as she turns the corner.

...

"What's going on between you and Anna?"

Harry hears James enter his hotel room.

James slams the heavy door shut behind him. The noise makes Harry jump for a moment, but he had expected this reaction from James once they were alone so he reacts to his question with indifference and doesn't move from the love seat.

He mentally prepared himself for this confrontation. He knew James was a good person, but his judgement can get easily clouded, and easily swayed all the same.

He calmly lowers the book he's holding face-down (as to not lose his place) and sighs, "For the last time James, nothing is going on between me and Anna. Is it a crime for a man to give his friend a hug?"

"I'm not an idiot Styles, I practically caught you two," James mutters as he glares at Harry. "Don't think I haven't noticed how close you two have become. Now, I gave you the benefit of the doubt because you're a nice guy, and I didn't want to believe that my own best friend is trying to get with the girl he knows I love. Clearly, I was wrong about you."

The conviction and certainty in his tone silence Harry. It takes him a moment to compose an intelligent response, afraid that if it isn't his words that give him away, his expression would.

"An innocent hug is hardly an incriminating case," Harry says calmly. "I think you ought to lay off the... opiates," he whispers the last bit because while it holds some veracity in a personal context it had nothing to do with Harry or Anna and their situation, and he could tell by James's dishevelled appearance that he probably isn't sober at the moment.

"And your lips," James mutters over him.

"What about my lips?" Harry asks.

"They were red... like her lipstick," James says, though he seems uncertain of himself as he finally looks at Harry. Harry rubs his mouth with his fingertips and shows the lack of colour to James.

James's expression changes, turning into one of confusion and self-doubt as he rubs his eyes with balled-fists. "I could have sworn..." James trails off as he leans in close to Harry's mouth to inspect the skin around it. His close proximity allows Harry to smell the alcohol on James's breath, and see how blown out his pupils were, like two black holes in a sea of white, confirming his assumption.

Harry takes James by his cheek, gently pushing him away when he figures James's gotten it in his head that his evening's indulgences had conspired against his better judgement again. He can see James besieged by his headspace and quickly enters his kitchen to start a new pot of coffee. He glances at James who's sitting at his countertop with his head bowed in his hands.

"You can't keep doing this to yourself, James," Harry frowns, crossing his arms as he leans down on the countertop across from him. "You're killing yourself man, and it's killing me to watch."

"I know. I'm just... trying to figure my shit out," James mumbles.

"You can, and you will. Just... do it without the distractions," Harry says as he rests his hand on his shoulder.

"Honestly... Anna's the only thing worth suffering through this job anymore," James sighs. "It's stupid, I know. She's engaged– to the boss-man of everybody– but there's something about her that restores my faith in the future. She's kind; she still sees us as people. People trying to make it. She gets it, somehow. She gets that there's a different kind of suffering people like you and I are in, and she doesn't dismiss it; doesn't just preach about a better future. She tries. Tries to do more for other people who don't have what she has. You see how she is with everyone. She believes there'll be a future when people come together– not if but when. How do you not fall in love with a girl like that?" James asks, sounding genuinely upset and conflicted with his feelings.

Harry decides to be honest. "I know what you're saying," Harry says, "I know how you feel." Though he doesn't outwardly admit his feelings, the two share a look that seems to answer the question that's been pervading James's mind and their conversations for months.

"Can't help who we love," Harry says, "but if there's one thing that these difficult times haven't taken from us yet is our hearts. We still feel because it hasn't really taken everything from us, and I think that means we still have a chance to come back."

James finally lifts his head. He appears to have composed himself, a soft expression now replacing the one of distress. Harry gives him another reassuring pat on the shoulder and turns to pour him a cup of coffee.

"You sound just like her," James says as he wraps the cup Harry places in front of him with both hands. Steam rises between them. The air is rich with the smell of dark roast. "But be honest with me Harry- as a friend, as my brother- about what I saw in the elevator. It wasn't a hallucination, was it," James phrases his early question as a statement; as a fact.

Harry dwells on what James is asking him. He doesn't like lying to James, who's one of his closest friends since he moved to the city, and who, if he was in his position, Harry reckons would be candid with him about a relationship that's important to him, and trust him to keep such a complicated relationship, a secret. But in spite of that, he knows neither of them would be totally fine knowing the other were after the same girl which is exactly their case. It's probably best for him to not be as transparent about the nature of his relationship with Anna to James's face. To spare his feelings, and because he wasn't really sure where he and Anna stood. Are they together? Well, relatively, in his head, yes, but he knows it's more complicated than that. But if he's certain about anything, it's how he feels about her. He knows he loves her, and that he wants to be with her, and as far as he's concerned the feeling is returned.

He feels no guilt for loving her; for being someone with a brain, with a heart who understands why this woman should be loved and is willing to give her all that he can and more.

"I love her," Harry admits with no hesitation, "it doesn't matter what you saw, or what you think you saw. What we can agree on is that there are more people in this building, in this city, in this country, who love her the way she should be loved by the one person who can't bring himself to."

James remains silent. Harry watches him drink his coffee quietly. James doesn't pay him any mind; he doesn't look at Harry for the rest of the night.

...

James still stayed the night.

Harry had thought about sneaking out to see Anna, but he didn't feel right leaving James after his evening binge. He wanted to make sure James wasn't alone when he woke up. He knew Anna would understand, and besides, he'd get to have a whole day with her soon.

What's one night to them?

James was unwell in the morning, which Harry knew would be the case so he'd put the trash bin on James's side of the bed and a glass of water for when he woke up dehydrated. James doesn't have to ask Harry to take his morning shift because they share a look that's pretty telling of how James must be feeling, and Harry nods and accepts it without further question. He prepares a fresh pot of coffee for him and James and brings him a mug and another glass of water before he leaves.

Harry enters the locker room, turning the light on for the rest of the workers who'll eventually be coming in. He walks towards his locker and opens it, picking off his uniform coat from its hanger and shrugging it on. He buttons it up all the way and places his cap on the crown of his head before shutting his locker. He inspects himself in the jaded mirror near the door, pressing down any wrinkles that appear in his trousers while he takes in his appearance.

When he's ready, he heads back to the elevators and takes his place inside by the button panel. It's a few minutes before the elevator begins to move, meaning that someone on another floor had pressed the button for the elevator. Harry rubs the little bit of sleep that pricked his eyes and prepares himself to put on the most cheerful 'good morning' he could muster at four in the morning.

The elevator stops on the fourth floor and begins to open.

"Good morning–," Harry freezes, seeing Norman leaning into a ginger-haired woman sucking fervently at his neck.

It's incredibly awkward for Harry when they step inside. He's unsure about Norman's expression when he sees him. There's little recognition, but he can see the cogwheels in Norman's mind circling as he looks Harry in the face.

The woman with Norman clearly isn't Anna...and everyone clearly knows Norman is engaged to Anna.

And Harry would argue that everyone knows that Norman's nothing but a cheater; an asshole undeserving of Anna. But no one is brave enough to tell him that to his face. Not when their livelihood rests in his hands. But boy did Harry want to punch the smirk off his face when Norman's attention returned to the woman chasing his lips for a kiss.

"What floor?" Harry asks, trying not to let his annoyance show.

"Ground floor," Norman says.

Harry presses the button and sighs deeply as he turns farther into his corner. They've begun kissing again, making unkind noises that he wishes his ears weren't able to pick up.

"Same time tonight. I'll have someone pick you up."

"Why can't we meet in the mornings like we used to? I miss spending the day with you. All you wanna do now is fuck."

"Are you complaining?"

"No."

"Good."

Their hushed conversation ends when the elevator stops on the ground floor. Harry holds back a gasp when he catches the face of the woman as she leaves. He recognizes her as the ginger-haired woman who's been coming around often for months now. The realization saddens him for a moment, thinking of Anna, and how he's certain that this woman has been coming to the hotel even before he knew Anna on the level he does now. He surmises that Norman didn't stop cheating on Anna even after she found out; despite the promise he made to her when he proposed and the promise he made to earn her forgiveness at the time.

Norman doesn't leave with the woman, his sanguine appearance immediately falling apart in front of Harry as soon as the elevator doors slide shut.

"Harry," Norman reads his name tag, "you don't speak of what you just saw to Anna or the press, and I'm willing to negotiate to raise your salary by two to three figures." The quickness of his offer sounds so rehearsed to Harry that he nearly laughs. He wonders how often Norman's gotten caught in the past and who else's silence he's bought.

"If you don't mind me asking sir, you came to me once expressing concern that Anna could be with someone else when you're not around, yet here you are trying to keep her from finding out that you are with another woman... I can't help but ask why you're still with Anna if you could just end your relationship with her and spare her the heartbreak," Harry says.

"I don't have to explain myself to you," Norman says after a moment.

"I think you should," Harry retorts, insinuating that he'd rather know the truth than accept bribery from Norman.

"Look," Norman sighs, "you are with someone long enough that when they're not there you feel incomplete like it feels wrong; too different for comfort. It's like that with Anna. She is the one constant in my life that keeps me grounded but at the same time... I'm terribly bored. These hard times have most of us searching for something to numb the reality of the aftermath. Some people drink, some people take a pill or jump off buildings. I fuck my ex-assistant."

Norman caps off his bluntness with a heavy sigh. "It's only sex. I'm not in love with her. When we're done here, Anna and I will move back to London, and we'll be married. Until then, she doesn't need to know. Spare her the heartbreak, as you said," he says. The elevator moves again as he speaks. "I'll speak to Margaret. I'll have her increase your pay."

"You don't need to do that–," Harry starts but Norman stops him. "I admire you holding onto your dignity," Norman says, but Harry can't help but sense false pretence in the sentiment. Norman pauses. "However... it's a lot of money for you," Norman continues, "Money I'm sure you need. Don't take it as bribery. Look at it as a forthcoming raise for the extra hours you clock in."

The elevator stops on the seventeenth floor, prompting the end of their conversation.

...

Harry stares at the cheque that Margaret gave him. She had come up to him while he was putting away his uniform for the night, and when he turned to her at the call of his name she pushed the envelope into his chest then walked away without another word.

He knew by the look she gave him, that Norman had done what he promised to do and it wouldn't be the first time.

...

"Then, I had to hide from Rochelle so I could eat my cheesy omelette in peace, but William ended up finding me– Harry? Hey... what's wrong with you... come back down."

"Hmm, oh... sorry," Harry sighs, rubbing his arm as he finally looks at Anna. There's a concern in her expression as she takes him in. He can tell she's trying to figure out what he's thinking, and frankly, he's unsure if he'll be able to give her an answer she likes.

But if the last few hours have done anything for Harry, it allowed him to properly think and decide what to do with his knowledge of Norman and the woman he's been seeing behind Anna's back. He knew even before he saw his cheque that he'd tell Anna the next time he saw her. Well, that didn't happen when he saw her leave that morning, or when she returned from rehearsals. Now, they're on the rooftop, sharing their day with each other and Harry knows it's the right time to tell her.

It should be easy. Just tell her, his mind incessantly recited, but his heart wanted him to hold off telling her the truth. Not to protect Norman or some other selfish reason, he thinks. But the more he dwells on what good would come from it he's reminded that he doesn't really know the whole nature of Norman and Anna's relationship. Surprisingly he heard some sense in what Norman told him. How they'd been together for so long that naturally, Norman found the idea of not having Anna around as strange. But Harry still held his own sense in higher regard, because he'd only fallen in love with her and it shows that he probably isn't hurting Norman by loving his fiancé. Not when Norman thinks it's justifiable to cheat because he sees it as a coping mechanism that he'll drop eventually. Anna doesn't deserve that. She doesn't talk about him much anymore (nothing more than a few callbacks to something he did in the past), but now Norman has planted a seed of reality in Harry's mind for him to overthink.

What if she feels strange without Norman?

What if their relationship is only 'great' for now because of the thrill of having to sneak around?

What if she realizes what life she'll be trading in return for a life with him?

Harry knows he and Norman were at odds because Norman basically made Anna out to be not enough for him to keep his love and interest in her, while Harry found a good friend and a beautiful soul in her footprint.

Harry had already told Anna that he had nothing much to offer other than his heart. And while she expressed disregard for the implications of what he said, Harry knew better than to ignore the obvious class divide. Norman could easily support her for nine lifetimes and could buy her a smile whenever she was missing one. All Harry can do is promise to love her, and to never hurt her, and to treat her with the appreciation and respect she deserves.

You're plenty enough, he recalls her telling him. He remembers how her eyes shined for him when she spoke in her soft voice, you have my whole heart.

He looks to her as she sits across from him, legs folded, hair flowing behind her as the nightly air blows colder winds into their faces atop the roof. Her cheeks are a soft pink colour and her eyes are a bit watery from the dry windy weather. Harry takes in her appearance some more while mindlessly taking in every word she spoke. In a few moments, he'll have to rip the smile from her pretty face. He braces himself as he waits for a window of opportunity for him to speak.

"Have you..." he begins, "have you seen Norman at all recently?"

"Oh–. Um, occasionally when I leave for work. I've encountered him once or twice around the elevators but I don't speak to him or really acknowledge him past that. Why?" She asks, "did he speak to you again?"

"Yes– and– something else happened, as well," Harry stammers, then forces his nerves down to form a more straightforward answer. "I bumped into him this morning when I started my shift. Well, it was James's shift technically; I covered for him again. He... uh... he was getting on from the fourth floor, and he wasn't um... he wasn't alone; he was with another woman. I have reason to believe he's having an affair with her."

The wind howls in their ears, drowning out the silence that overcomes the two as Harry looks at Anna waiting for her reaction.

"I knew it," she whispers, "I fucking knew it," she repeats, though it is harsher as she shakes her head in disbelief. "Was she blonde? Brunette? Ginger?"

"Ginger," Harry answers reluctantly, silently surprised by the level of composure she kept as she spoke.

"Of-fucking-course it's Ginger!" Anna suddenly yells, which startles Harry and causes him to nearly fall off the box he's sitting on, but he feels her quickly reach for him and pull him back by his forearm. "I knew that good-for-nothing sack of shit is still fucking her!" she yells, grunting as she stands up. She paces in front of Harry, hands on her hips as she shakes her head, expression full of disbelief. Harry can't tell if she's upset or pissed beyond feeling sad about it, because she seems to pride herself for being right about Norman being unfaithful.

Harry watches Anna approach the edge of the building, towering over the city with her eyes aglow. He wonders what she must be thinking as she becomes quiet. Her shoulders rise and lower as if she's let in a gulp of air and pushed it out.

Anna finally turns, looking back at Harry who's still sitting. She walks towards him and sits in his lap, with her thighs across his knees. Harry immediately wraps his arms around her and nuzzles his nose in her neck. He feels how quick her heartbeat has become, and how heavy it seems to pulse under her skin.

"Does Pedro have any cheesecake left from today?" Anna asks suddenly.

Harry meets Anna's eyes which are looking at him with distress. "We can go look," Harry offers, as Anna stands.

...

Anna had been crying quietly into her wine glass (her second full glass of the night), her cheeks puffed out by the cheesecake they found hidden in the very back of the hotel freezer, and Harry can't help but feel a rush of déjà vu to their first night together. It seemed like the wine and sweets brought out a delayed reaction in Anna, but now he's wondering if she'd have any tears left to cry when she stops.

As much as it pains Harry to watch her cry, he doesn't try to dictate how she should feel and react to the news about Norman. She wasn't hysterical, in fact, her outburst on the roof earlier seemed as close to the reaction he'd expected from her as her whimpering at the moment was. Of course, she'd feel hurt by what Norman told him in the elevator, but her emotions were highly conflicting with one another. She'd initially felt joy for being right, and somewhat confident in what it means for her and Harry. The image wasn't fully realized when she'd paced the roof trying to think of how Norman's affair with Ginger would change how she feels about her relationship with Harry, but as she gazed at the city, trying to see over its horizon, she'd realized one thing about herself: that she'd been a fool; that those small moments with Norman where she thought they'd fixed the mess he'd caused were a farce. She'd worked so hard to preserve what was left of their union despite his cheating because she'd believed that they'd eventually be okay. Now she's being told that there's nothing she could have done to keep Norman happy; the idea hits her differently as she thinks of herself as being the problem. That's what Norman told Harry, after all. But it also hits differently in that she's gone and fallen in love with the elevator operator, so she's not in any place to be as mad or as hurt about Norman being with someone else.

There's a difference there that Anna catches when Harry tells her that Norman didn't really love Ginger, but saw her more as someone expendable; she could cater to his needs and his ego wouldn't have to worry about hurting her feelings. From the way it sounds, Norman expects Anna to still be with him by the time he ends contact with Ginger when it suits him. Norman expects Anna to love him unconditionally and to remain by his side, cooped away in their future London home as his trophy wife while he goes to work, leaving her to wonder and worry for the rest of her life if he's with someone else.

She'd really be a fool then if she were to let that happen.

Anna wipes her eyes with the back of her hand, sniffling, "Okay, I'm done with that." She downs the rest of her wine and pours herself another glass. "We should be celebrating. I'm gonna be on fucking broadway tomorrow!" She guffaws, bringing Harry to grin as he bumps his glass with hers.

"To your first Broadway show, and the rest to come," Harry says.

"And to us, and our future: please... don't... cheat on me," Anna says the last part in a light voice, clearly joking with an edge of emotion lingering beneath, which makes Harry's heart hurt for her a little as he smiles, but it doesn't really reach his eyes. "Never," he asserts. "My mother didn't raise an idiot."

"I'd love for you to come and see me. You can be my plus one," Anna says. She's suddenly giddy at the idea of having Harry watch her in her element. He'd been someone who kept her from ending it all and made her feel so loved and appreciated, constantly reminding her how important she is. So what if her impact is not earth-shattering, Harry had once told her that someone out there will see her and feel something, and that's what makes her art so special. She has the power to make people feel for her characters, taking them on a life journey in the span of two hours, and in that time they may learn something about themselves and the world.

The more she thinks about it, the more she realizes how Harry is that person for her. The longer she looks at Harry, seeing him smile at her request, she feels a new set of butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

"I'd like that, very much," Harry grins, a dimple appearing on his cheek, "I've never been to the theatre before, or seen a broadway stage."

"You'll have to wear a suit," she says. "I reckon you'd look so handsome in one. You look so good in your uniform; it's sort of a suit."

"I have a suit that I bought for job interviews. You can come up to my room and take a look at it... see if it's theatre-friendly," Harry trails off. He's looking at her in a way that makes her breathing catch in her lungs.

Anna nods without saying much else, following Harry out of the lounge café.

...

It takes a moment for the light in Harry's room to turn on. The delay of the flickering bulb stops by the time the pair are by his wardrobe cabinet.

"Make yourself comfortable," Harry motions to his bed. Anna perches herself on the edge, facing Harry as he begins rummaging through his wardrobe, but her sitting doesn't last for long as she inevitably falls on her back with a soft bounce. She feels hot like she could melt right through Harry's bed. She spreads her arms out, willing herself to sink deeper into this floaty space in her mind.

"What do you think?" Harry's voice lifts her from the veil she's in for a moment as she raises herself onto her elbows to look at him. "I know it's nothing fancy–."

"It's nice, Harry, but honestly you'd look good in anything," she says as Harry chuckles, "you're making me blush, lovie."

The suit is a dark colour; black or dark grey, she couldn't tell. It truly wouldn't matter to Anna if the suit were any colour of the rainbow, but she notices he's being fussy about the suit regardless of her comment. "You'd be surprised by what's accepted as fancy these days," She says as Harry hums, turning to place the suit back in the wardrobe.

"Growing up, my mother had a friend who was a modiste and she taught my mother how to sew. It came into good use while she was a laundress because the family she tended to had so many children, always running around, dirtying and ripping up their clothes, but I guess it didn't matter to the parents because they'd tell my mother to just throw them out. Instead, my mother would bring them home, fix them up, and alter them to fit me and my sisters. She kept the habit even after she quit. She always had an eye for potential, like she knew what greatness lay ahead." Anna sighs. She is laying down again, staring at the ceiling with a wistful smile as a highlight reel of her mother played in her mind. When she looks at Harry again she realizes that he's looking at her. She's thinking of something to say next, but he's already laying next to her before she can think to ask. They both turn to rest on their sides so they can face each other.

"Do you think she knew you'd end up here in New York, on Broadway?" Harry asks with a curious, yet knowing grin.

"I think she knew I'd go wherever I could sing and dance and not be kicked out," She laughs, though she can't help but smile solemnly, "No, I think she knew that I was the kind of girl who likes to sing and dance and that I could make money doing it. I resented her for how she put me through so much work when I was younger, but being her age now when she had me and thinking about what it must have been like for her to have to raise three girls alone at the time, I can understand the pressure she was under; we really needed the money. I now like to think she was teaching me to seize every opportunity to do something great, but that it's the hard work and necessary sacrifices that'll get me to where I want to be."

"She's proud of you," Harry concludes.

Anna smiles timidly at the confidence in Harry's voice. She still hasn't gotten used to someone responding with such certitude to her doubt, and the fact that she knows she can trust Harry, it makes her feel so lucky to the point of concern; she's so in love. She swipes her thumb over Harry's chin in a loving gesture as their eyes meet, silently questioning the other.

When they kiss, the warmth in Anna's body intensifies, spreading to her shoulders first then to her ears. It's a ticklish feeling and makes her giggle into the kiss. Harry takes this opportunity to slip his tongue past her lips, and for a few minutes, they're just lying in his bed making out like a couple of teenagers in love. Harry props himself up on his elbow so he can hold Anna while they kiss. Half of him covers her body as she lies completely still aside from her head which follows Harry's lead in the kiss, her fingers pulling and digging into his hair. Harry breaks from her lips to kiss her neck. As soon as his lips touch her skin she feels parts of her body tense instinctively from the ticklish feeling, but at the same time, her body unravels when she remembers that it is Harry making her giddy.

"Can I?" Harry's fingers already grasp the top button of her dress, while his eyes search hers for consent, but all Anna can do is nod as she hears her heartbeat in her ears.

One by one Harry undoes the buttons on her dress. His lips follow each window of skin that begins to show. When his nose bumps the material of her bra, Anna feels him hum against her skin before raising his head to look at her; another question of consent lingers in his lust-filled eyes. Anna grins, nodding as she helps move them along by pinching her collar, pulling them apart so the top of her dress is spread open. She looks at Harry for his reaction and is not at all disappointed when his lips part for several seconds while his eyes linger on her chest.

"Are you just gonna sit there and stare at me all night, or are you gonna help me get this thing off me?" Anna teases him, which causes his cheeks to redden as he playfully nibbles on her shoulder while pulling the top of her dress over her shoulders; it's just enough so he can reach around her back. He unhooks her bra and pulls the garment over her shoulders and down her arms.

This time, Anna notices Harry's more frugal with his staring. Probably not wanting to disrespect her by making her feel like an object to be stared at, but regardless of what she imagined he might have been thinking at that moment, it's his sigh mixed with a moan that makes her cheeks warm up and realize how exposed she is to him. She's flattered by his subtle glances at her chest, but it immediately changes when his lips attach to the top of her left breast. Anna moans when she feels his teeth sucking and nipping at her skin, then licking over where it stung.

"Careful, you'll leave a mark," She murmurs, trying to sound serious, but her voice catches when his head shifts and his lips barely catch her nipple, making her whine out his name instead which makes him chuckle and look at her with a toothy grin before he returned to her breast where he was sucking her skin beforehand.

"That's the point, lovie," Harry murmurs as he sits up again, "have a look."

Anna glances down at her chest and sees the love bite that's been raised on her skin, and it takes her a moment to realize that it's in the shape of a heart, over her heart. Her response to what it meant is another kiss which she prompts by sitting up so she can hold his face with the intention of having him as close to her as possible.

"Harry," She pulls away momentarily to look at him. Both of them are breathing hard. "Make love to me," She whispers, in case it isn't tonight, so she can feel better if it isn't tonight but the bump she feels digging into her thigh leaves her with high hopes. "I love you so much, I want you so much," She mumbles pathetically, "please, make love to me."

Harry smiles softly and nods, kissing her again with the intention of instilling some reassurance through the gesture. Harry helps her finish undressing first, leaving her in just her panties while he took off his clothes. Now it's Anna's turn to try not to stare because she'd only had a vague impression of his cock from the times he'd gotten hard in his work slacks which were loose enough to show a subtle imprint of what he had. But now in his boxers, she could see everything. Well, not everything since he's not completely naked (yet), but she can see how large a bulge he has and she has to try her hardest not to look affected by his appearance.

Harry approaches her at the foot of his bed. Her knees knock together as he pulls her panties off before he nudges them apart again with open palms that slide along her thighs to spread them open, exposing her soaking centre to him. Harry hums thoughtfully before he glances up to meet her eyes.

Suddenly he's lowering himself onto his knees, which makes Anna's eyes widen with surprise. "Oh, what are you doing?" She asks him timidly, her voice small as she looks at Harry.

"I'm going to help you fit me... I'm, uh, I'm quite big and I don't want to hurt you."

"Oh," She whispers cooly, trying to mask her intrigue but she can't really think properly with how Harry's looking at her from between her legs. When she feels the warmth radiating from Harry's open mouth graze her sensitive skin, Anna jumps and clears her throat, "Oh, um, you should know that... um... no one's ever..."

"No one has ever given you oral sex!?" Harry finishes before her, open-mouthed as if she'd said something wrong.

"Norman didn't like the idea of giving as much as he liked receiving," She shrugs.

"M'gonna take proper care of you, lovie," Harry assures her, "gonna make your cute little honey pot ready for me, s'that alright?"

"Hmm, yeah," She bites her lip, feeling the dull ache between her legs pulsing harder as Harry smiles into her thigh. He kisses her skin and starts a trail leading downward, never breaking eye contact with her.

"M'gonna start licking you now," Harry says, and it makes it even harder for her to breathe as she nods, giving him the green light to begin.

Anna feels her lower lips being spread apart. Harry's cool fingertips on her warm, wet skin make her skin tingle as she considers how he's staring at her pussy like it's his last meal on earth. She inhales sharply through a moan when she feels his finger rub over the length of her slit, barely dipping into her hole before he raises it to his lips. "You're dripping all over my bed, lovie, leaving a mess already." She watches with wide eyes as he hums low in his throat. "Taste real good."

Harry drops his head down again, licking her clit directly. He moves with a flourish, kitten licking her sensitive bud, eager to taste more of her on his tongue and wanting to help her feel good. He swirls his tongue some, and wriggles the tip along the valley of her core before dipping in and curving his tongue out; he repeats this until she's writhing on the bed and can't help but try to close her thighs around his head. Harry chuckles and pulls her clit between his lips, sucking hard. Her heart begins to race when his chin grazes the hood of her clit as he moves to look at where he's eating her, pulling her lips taut before he's back to licking into her.

"Harry!" Anna jolts up and pulls on his hair, practically fucking herself on his tongue as she whimpers, "More, more, please, don't stop."

Harry hums and proceeds to ease his index finger inside as he continues licking over her clit. Anna's taken aback for a moment, having never felt another finger other than her own, and Harry's fingers are much thicker and longer. As Harry begins moving his finger in and out of Anna, he watches her reaction carefully to see if she's still doing fine, but also to enjoy how responsive she is to what he's doing.

"Can already feel how tight you're gonna be around me, lovie," He teases her, "squeezing my finger so nicely, but I gotta open you up some more." Harry pushes in another finger and begins pumping his fingers in and out of her as he sucks on her clit again. His palm faces upward as he starts a come-hither motion with his fingers.

"H-Harry, that's it," Anna moans.

Harry rubs the pad of his thumb on her clit so he could speak. "Like that?" Harry asks, smirking at the feeling of her clenching around his fingers in small intervals.

Anna is enthralled by the pleasure she's experiencing to make a coherent response to Harry's question, but her body is different. Her orgasm arrives as a bright light. First as the result of her squeezing her eyes shut so hard that she could see stars, and then it's the feeling of the serotonin in her body being lit up by the same fuse. Only, she's not truly been set off, much like how after her orgasm the dull ache between her thighs doesn't leave and leaves her wanting to ride Harry's cock until the sun rises on them.

While Anna comes down from her first high, Harry sits back on his feet and cleans his fingers. He's tempted, looking at the way she's glistening, to lick her some more but the throbbing of his cock in his boxers fights this desire with something that burns stronger. She reaches out for him, drawing Harry closer to her so she can hold him for a moment. He kisses her cheek comfortingly, "Was that okay?" He asks her after some silence as her harboured breathing slowly gains normality.

Anna snorts, sighing deeply. "That was more than okay," She giggles. "That will become a regular thing," She adds as Harry chuckles, "I'm more than happy to oblige," He nods with a smile. "I'm gonna make love to you now."

Harry kisses her as he maneuvers himself to hover above her. He straightens up for a moment to push his boxers down. Anna gets a short glimpse of his cock as it bounces out, curving upward to his navel. Harry takes the tip between his fingers and gives his underside a gentle rub just to give himself a little of the pleasure he's been desperately needing for the last half-hour. Anna spreads her legs again, bent at the knee, as she anticipates feeling Harry inside her for the first time. He presses his tip against her opening, sighing shakily as he glances at Anna to see if she's fine enough for him to continue. Anna winces as he begins to push in.

"You alright?" Harry asks, his concern painting his features when he hears her make a noise.

"Y-Yeah... you're just... really–," She can't finish, because she already feels the uncomfortable stretch from just his tip; she couldn't fathom what it'd feel like to have all of him inside her.

"M'sorry," Harry mumbles, though his modesty is hard for Anna to believe because he can't possibly be seriously apologizing for this. "I can stop if you want, can go back to licking you."

Anna replies by hiking her foot over his bum so she can pull him down further into her. The dull stretch burns, even more, making her moan and pulse around him.

"O-oh-kay," Harry stutters, readjusting himself so he can have more control as he continues to push the rest of himself into her.

When he bottoms out, Anna gasps at the feeling. It's inexplicable, just how full she is. She shuts her eyes and sighs deeply, moaning as she clenches around him. The image above her is no less angelic than the feeling of being this close to Harry. Harry is struggling, he's really trying not to finish so soon because he really wants to make her feel good, and if he finishes now it'll take him a few minutes to recover. But she's so inexplicably tight; she feels so good, he wonders if he'll ever feel true happiness after knowing his pleasure has peaked.

"I love you," Anna breathes right over his neck, sending chills through Harry though it's more to do with hearing her say it to him coupled with being this close to her than the whole physicality of the situation.

"I love you too," Harry returns as he ducks down to kiss her before he begins to pull himself out, stopping until only his tip is inside before pushing back in. He continues moving in and out of her at a snail's pace, wanting to relish in the vice she becomes whenever he fucks deep into her.

"More," Anna whimpers.

"More?" Harry huffs, quickening his pace slightly, "S'that good?"

"Yessss. Moreee," She's well aware how whiney she sounds but she couldn't give less of a shit. Harry is acquainting himself with places within her that's never known another touch, and it's making her question what the hell is this feeling because she's never felt so good before.

"Y'feel so good around me, lovie– fuck," Harry wheezes, "fit so well together, don't we?"

"Hmm, yeah," Anna smiles through the pleasure as she begins to move her hips, following the rhythm of Harry's thrusts. She makes sure to clench when he's pushing into her because it makes his forehead crease and lips part in a whimper of her name that makes her feel good in a different way.

Anna soon feels the coil in her stomach begin to unravel as her whimpering of his name turns into a high whine between moans. "Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry, uh, uh, uh, Harry," She repeats, getting louder with each trembling drive of his prick into her. Harry swallows her moans in a kiss, relishing in the way she's tightened around him, but he doesn't want to silent her pretty sounds; her moans, the slapping of their hips, and the squelch of her pussy as she takes his prick. It's bringing him close, fucking her through her orgasm.

"Fuck Harry, fuck, harder," She squeaks, like a little mouse, biting on her lip as she looks up at Harry with her pupils blown out, a little teary, which has made her mascara smudge.

It's her expression, right then, that causes the string holding Harry together to snap. "Fuuuck," he draws the word out as he quickly pulls himself out, wrapping his hand around his soaked cock to finish himself off. His cum spurts out in several strings, connecting with her outer lips and clit. Harry paints his tip through the valley of her pussy, mixing his cum with her juices, making them both shake from the sensitivity and aftershock of their orgasms.

As Harry's about to wipe himself with his boxers, Anna stops him and crawls up onto her knees, pushing him to lay down with a small smile. "Let me," She says as she takes him into her mouth. Harry's eyes widen a little as her fingers gently grasp him. She licks around the shaft first before tending to his balls. "Oh-m'sensitive babe," Harry jolts a little when she suckles on his tip, but she only giggles and gives him a quick, hard suck before popping him out of her mouth. "M'finished, anyway," She says as she moves to lie next to him.

The room smells of sex for the rest of the evening, but Harry's too tired to get up and light some candles; he probably should have done that before they did anything. He's much too comfortable next to Anna on the bed, even though their limbs are quite awkwardly entwined. He knows that if he moves right now the ache in his bones will come back. Sleep dawns on Anna first as her eyes had already felt heavy after her first orgasm, but now she feels soft and warm and fucked out, which are all wonderful ways to get her to fall asleep. Harry chuckles when he notices she's fallen asleep on him, and gently rubs her hip as he kisses her forehead. God, he fucking loves her, Harry thinks to himself as he reaches over her and pulls the sheet over both of them. He turns himself so he's facing her, leaving his arm to drape over her middle as his exhaustion finally overtakes him.

...

The next morning Harry took her again in bed, then she rode him in his chair before he bent her against the shower wall and made love to her in there. It's interesting to her, how different sex can be when it's with someone you truly love. Somehow it's not just the climax that feels good, but to share that intimacy with the love of your life, it somehow elevates that feeling. Anna realized that it's not something she's familiar with because she's never been in love before.

The longer she dwells on it, staring at the hush cheque that Norman had organized for Harry lying on his coffee table untouched, the more she's sure about ending things with Norman once and for all. Her worries about being a hypocrite seemed to dissipate as she stared at the envelope. Its contents, Norman's money, his power, all encased on paper would be the last trace of him ever being in her life. Norman may think he's gotten away with his escapades but here she is, well aware of his affair and still hurting, but she'll get over it and Norman will just have to deal with his losses. Norman will just have to learn that power isn't someone you can go home to, and he'll have to do it by himself.

Next chapter will be posted Oct. 18 at 3pm EST

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