{Absolutely Lovely}

Used to be @ohsolovelymoments Masterlist I like writing but writing doesn't like me :'( main

[lilacharry]

Tongue Tied

Inspired by true events

“Y/N,” James seemed to bark, snapping Y/N back into reality. She had been sat recording some material for a popular late night talk show and the group had veered into unknown territory for her. Something about the discomfort of one of the other guests having to shoot a very intimate scene in front of their partner’s spouse. Y/N had never been put in such a situation and felt it would have been better to remain quiet on her end of the couch.

“Yes!” She laughed, startled at the sudden call of her name.

“I’ve heard that you throw massive, major parties,” James smiled, his cards covering his mouth as he leaned back into his seat.

“Kind of,” Y/N answered with suspicion, eyeing the audience, “I mean, they’re not that big-”

“No, they’re massive! We had Derek on a few months ago and he said that you have a venue with three different rooms just for different genres of music,” James spoke feverishly, his hands outstretched.

“I mean,” Y/N trailed as she shuffled in her seat, “yeah... but he’s making it seem a lot bigger than it is-”

“I have never been so offended in my life to not have received an invitation,” James threw his hands up.

“You would come?” Y/N laughed, clasping her hands in front of her crossed legs.

“You say that like it’s absurd? Have you got something against fuller bodied men dancing the night away? Do you think I’ll embarrass you?” James jokingly scoffed.

“I didn’t get an invitation, either,” Harry piped from the other end of the couch, raising his index finger.

That was one voice Y/N had been trying to ignore the entire night. She had been a fan ever since she was younger and had done a good job of avoiding meeting the celebrity at other gatherings. She had not been sure how she would act if she ever had the opportunity to properly meet him and decided on playing it safe by actively avoiding events and locations she knew he frequented. That was until one of the producers on the Late Late show had lied to her about Harry’s presence on the show that particular night.

Everyone seemed to know of Y/N’s plans to avoid Harry Styles and took great joy in trying to get the two in a room. Judging by how flustered Y/N would even get when the young man’s name was brought up, everybody thought it would be a delight to surprise her with his presence. She had done a wonderful job of wising up to everybody’s intentions, so far. She had started to decline last minute invitations for random parties from her close friends ever since that one incident. She had had a little wine in her system and been grinding on one of her gyrating friends one night—as a joke—when someone had started recording on their phone. It was when she went to look up from her friend pretending to spank her, to see Harry enter the party. The video was quite amusing, seeing her eyes widen in fear as she’s filmed booking it out of frame. Since then, whenever she would decline sudden invitations to gatherings, she would wake up to see that he had attended said event the next morning while scrolling through her social media feed. She knew why her friend, Florence, would try to arrange last minute brunches with her as Y/N knew Florence’s boyfriend was great friends with Harry and had shared in Florence’s attempts to get her to meet him. She had gone about two years of avoiding the male, but, alas, here she was two cushions over from him. She blamed her sudden bout of placidity on the fact that she didn’t want to say or do anything embarrassing in front of him, but James had kept poking fun at her and she wasn’t sure how much more she could take.

“Then is it just against the British, Y/N?” James scowled.

“Well, most people that come out are either very Hispanic or love latin music and are, like, professional dancers,” Y/N’s face burned as she explained.

“What? Do we not look like professionals?” James egged her on.

“No, I’m sure you’re great dancers. But, it’s also back in San Francisco,” Y/N reasoned with a little shrug of her shoulders, “you would make the trip out?”

“Invite us, and you’ll find out,” James commented with a little giggle, “no, seriously, though, do you really need three different rooms?”

“Well, if people prefer one specific genre it’s kinda nice,” Y/N explained.

“Like what?” Harry asked, trying to make eye contact with the woman that had been avoiding his gaze since the beginning of the show.

“Eh, last time we had one for salsa, bachata, and tropical, and the main room had food and, like... I don’t mean to sound crass, but like... white people music,” Y/N grimaced at the term, “I’m sorry! I don’t know how else to describe it. They also play other music, but more like music that you can kind of... I don’t know...”

“That’s very offensive, Y/N,” James gawked before laughing out.

“Like top 40!” Harry came to Y/N’s rescue.

“Yes, like top 40!” Y/N laughed, and Harry smiled at her nose scrunching in the process.

“So there were four rooms, in total?” James suddenly realized.

“Yes, but it sounds bigger than it really is,” Y/N shook her head, .

“Oh, stop minimizing the party you didn’t invite us to,” James narrowed his eyes at Y/N.

“I’ll make sure to invite you to the next one; we have great food, too,” Y/N leaned back in her seat, uncomfortable with being called out for something she didn’t know she had done wrong.

“I hate that that’s where your mind automatically went,” James feigned offense. In all reality, James knew how timid Y/N was being and the reasoning behind it. He knew her character and knew she would never say anything to offend him, but he was enjoying taking advantage of the situation.

“No! That’s not what I meant,” Y/N’s eyes seemed to bug out of her skull.

“And for your information, I’m quite the athlete when it comes to dancing,” James turned his nose up at Y/N.

“Athlete? What all do you know how to dance?” Harry rolled his eyes as he reached for his drink that had been set on the coffee table in front of them.

“I can absolutely murder the dance floor whenever white people music comes on,” James earned a laugh from the audience, “Y/N what are you best at? Or do you know all of the ones you mentioned?”

“Sort of,” Y/N smiled and shrugged, “I’m better at others, but nothing too fancy. I know, like, the basics of a lot of them just because my mom knew so much and taught me, growing up.”

“Here at Late, Late, we do not tolerate liars,” James began before turning to the monitor behind him, “and Derek sent us this and I’d like to see what you have to say.”

A clip came on where Y/N had been shown being led by one of her companions around a dance floor, making Y/N laugh out.

“Explain that, Y/N!” James pointed at the monitor, “’nothing too fancy’—that’s professional. What’s that, then? Bit of salsa?”

“Yes... but I’m actually not that good at it,” Y/N explained.

“I hate you,” James teased, “could you teach us something?”

“Sure... Now?” Y/N questioned, raising her brows.

“Yeah, you know just something quick and very complex,” James laughed as Y/N looked over to a producer that had been waving at the group to start wrapping up, “eh... our producers are waving at us. Can we do a little something when we come back?”

“I’ll teach you when you come to the next one,” Y/N offered after they got a negative response from one of the producers.

“I’m already looking forward to it,” James responded before turning to outstretch his hand to Harry, “will you be my date?”

“If I’m invited, yes!” Harry grabbed a hold of James’ hand before the two turned to look at Y/N.

“Of course! Did you want one, as well?” Y/N quickly diverted attention to the long forgotten third guest who had been seated between her and Harry.

The rest of the show went along smoothly enough; with Y/N staying somewhat reserved and not making even more of a complete fool of herself. The show had soon wrapped and she was soon caught in a storm of questions and demands from her team as they swept her away from set. She tried to politely excuse herself with one last general farewell, but was enamored with how Harry had reached out to shake her hand and tell her it had been nice to meet her. She felt light headed as she was urged to continue away to the room that had been assigned to her, backstage.

+ + +

“Was that really so bad, now?” Martin, the producer that had invited her onto the show, came walking into her dressing room as Y/N and her team had started to pack up.

“I made a complete and utter fool of myself,” Y/N cried out, covering her face with her palms, “I actually said white people music!”

“He knew you didn’t mean it like that,” Martin brushed off her embarrassment as he leaned in the doorframe.

“I can’t believe you did that to me; I’m just thankful I didn’t pass out,” Y/N remarked as her hands dropped to her side before she reached out to grab a hold of one of her bags.

“He thought you were lovely,” Martin rolled his eyes, “and he’s really looking forward to that invitation, Y/N.”

“What makes you say that?” Y/N furrowed her brows as more people seemed to shuffle out of the room.

“I heard him ask James to let him know if you ended up sending the invitation, since you didn’t take his number,” Martin grinned as he crossed his arms over his chest, “even after James told him he wouldn’t want to make the trip out there. Said he’s genuinely curious as to how such a gathering would go, but I think he’s just taken a liking to you.”

“How? I barely spoke the entire time we were in the same room,” Y/N huffed out.

“Dunno; maybe he knows you’re a fan and wants to make your wildest dreams come true,” Martin wiggled his brows at her, earning a scoff from Y/N.

“Can we talk about this nonsense later?” Y/N widened her eyes before going to wrap her arm around Martin.

“Fine; was nice seeing you,” Martin hugged her back, “let me know when the next shin-dig is so I can tell your boyfriend.”

“Oh my God,” Y/N laughed as she made her way to the hallway.

+ + +

A few weeks later, Y/N’s phone had startled her when it rang out in the middle of a dinner she had planned with some friends. Upon glancing at the device, she found Martin’s name at the top of the message, but thought nothing of it and forgot of its existence—she didn’t like having her phone out at dinner, in the first place. It wasn’t until the next morning when she had unlocked her phone to find the message:

H is asking if there’s any word on that party ... What shall I tell him?

Under the first message was:

I’ll give him your number ???

Y/N chewed on her lower lip as she wondered if Martin had already gone through with giving Harry her number and if there were any negatives to his suggestion. She didn't see why not...

Morning! Sorry; just saw your message! Yeah; go ahead! ☺️

She sent the message and hoped she wouldn’t make even more of a complete fool of herself. It wasn’t too long before Martin sent her a screenshot of what appeared to be his messages with Harry:

Ask her!! 628-555-0890

Hey! Thanks mate! Do you think it okay, though? Not creepy, or anything?

jfc these things used to be so simple; she won’t bite

Y/N laughed out at the screenshot before she got a notification from an unknown number:

Hello! How are you? Martin gave me your number, I hope that’s okay.

And then immediately seconds after:

Sorry, this is Harry.

Y/N could not help but gush at the message and had a sudden realization that Harry Styles had just messaged her—HARRY STYLES HAD JUST MESSAGED HER. It wasn’t long before she started getting into her own head. She thought she wasn’t interesting enough to respond with something smart or enticing and wished he really hadn’t messaged her, in the first place. She had no idea how to respond to that... He didn’t give her much to go off... She started panicking.

Hi ☺️ I’m doing well! How’ve you been? Of course, I told him to ☺️ I haven’t gotten around to planning the next gathering, yet, but I’ll definitely let you know when we start looking into it ☺️

Three smiley faces were too much, wasn’t it? She didn’t know... She decided to keep the one at the end in and blindly pressed the blue send button. God, she hoped that wasn’t too short or long. She really wished Martin hadn’t put her in such a situation... She found herself laughing at the memory of Kim Kardashian crying about Kourtney knowing she felt uncomfortable in certain situations and putting her in them, anyways. This guy knew Kendall Jenner intimately... God, Y/N really wished Martin hadn’t done this to her.

Okay—sorry, hope I'm not coming off as a creep. Just knew I would forget if I didn’t get your number from Martin. I’m actually really curious to see what it looks like.

Y/N sighed out, not knowing if she should respond. There was nothing more to say... right? They weren’t best friends so that she could send something else about her day to him. At least he had left it open, so she could potentially try to strike up a conversation... but she was so bad at these things. She would surely end up coming off as the creepy one.

Well, I’m glad you reminded him, then! We'll have good music and the food’s always amazing; definitely bring comfortable and/or stretchy pants 😂

She was annoyed at how fast she just sent the message. Wasn’t there a rule to these things to ensure you didn’t look desperate? There came a lull in the time that Harry took to respond to her. She loathed how many times she checked that her ringer was on and pressed her lock button to ensure she hadn’t missed any notifications. It wasn’t until later that afternoon when another notification from Harry came through her device.

Haha will do, looking forward to it

She scrunched her nose at the message. She had been too weird; she was sure of it. This is why you shouldn’t meet your heroes—sure there’s a chance they’ll be absolute rubbish people but it’s worse when you end up being the rubbish person, isn’t it? She didn’t save his number and left the chain of messages at that. Maybe she would put an end to such gatherings so she never had to speak to him again.

+ + +

“Okay, so we have about 250 people on the list right now,” Jamie, one of Y/N’s assistants spoke between sips of her iced coffee, “are there any other people I should add?”

“Everything else was approved? The venue’s available that day?” Y/N asked as she picked at the manicure she had gotten earlier that week.

“Yep, Magno said he clears any events on days the boss throws one of her big shin digs,” Jamie laughed at the memory of Y/N’s uncle.

“And the caterers agreed to the price?” Y/N choked out as she looked up from her hands.

“Yes... What’s up with you? You’re never this careful with this stuff,” Jamie noted with a furrow of her brows, “what’s going on?”

“No, I’m just making sure that there’ll be an actual party in a few days,” Y/N cleared her throat as she straightened in her chair.

“Who’re you waiting last minute to invite?” Jamie questioned, her tone accusing. There had, on occasion, been one or two people that had gotten absolutely smashed at one of Y/N’s parties and her method to ensure they didn’t ruin an upcoming event with drunken slurs or fights with other guests was inviting them day of said event.

“Nobody,” Y/N laughed as she looked back to her twiddling fingers.

“Wait a second,” Jaime narrowed her eyes as her fingers went to frantically type at the keys of her computer, “I just control effed this mother for Harry and nothing came up... You’re procrastinating inviting the love of your life to this thing? What the hell?”

“Don’t call him that,” Y/N laughed. She really wished she hadn’t made such a promise on national television. It was all that had flooded her social media feed for the first few days after the incident, and every now and then she would be questioned about when the next party was and if she had invited Harry and James.

“This thing is in three days; even if you invited him now, it’ll be a miracle he doesn’t have anything going on... Is he even in La La Land?” Jamie shook her head at Y/N.

“I don’t know,” Y/N sighed as she stretched her legs out, in front of her seated body, “I just don’t want to embarrass myself in front of him.”

“Look, you already embarrassed yourself back on the show and he still wants the invitation? Doesn’t he deserve more than three days notice?” Jamie pressed.

“Fine; you invite him,” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“You’re going to wish you didn’t allow me access to your iCloud sign on,” Jamie smirked before her fingers went to type at her keys once more.

“Jaime... What... What does that mean, what are you doing?” Y/N fearfully questioned as she rose from her seat and ran over to where her assistant sat typing on her computer.

“God, bring stretchy pants? Not okay, Y/N,” Jaime acknowledged as Y/N peered over her shoulder to see her assistant had already logged into Y/N’s iMessage account and had pulled up her conversation with Harry, “I’m going to put ‘Hey, Harry; hope you've been well! Just wanted to let you know the next get together is going to be on Friday. Hope you can make it. Blushing, smiley face emoji...’ Sweet and simple. Yes?”

“I mean,” Y/N droned before earning a glare from Jaime, “okay, fine.”

About fifteen minutes later, Jaime squealed with delight at the notification that had popped up in the right corner of her computer.

Nice! I’ll be in town this weekend! What’s the physical address?

“Ooh! This is so cute,” Jamie gushed as she went to respond to his message.

“I’m going to embarrass myself,” Y/N kept repeating.

“You already have and he’s still coming back for more. I don’t want to hear it,” Jaime rolled her eyes as she sat back and watched the little gray bubble pop up, insinuating Harry’s typing.

Thank you! I’ll be seeing you! Take care x

“He signed off with an x, Y/N,” Jamie squealed as her hands went to squeeze Y/N’s sides.

“I know,” Y/N whined.

“What are you going to wear?” Jaime turned to look at an already very distraught Y/N.

+ + +

Harry was nervous, which had become something of a rarity, anymore. He had consulted one of his friends—one that had been well known in the fashion industry—about what he would wear for the evening. He wanted to look nice... but not like he tried to look a certain way. He was embarrassed for such a thought process and thought it ridiculous that he cared so much about the clothing he had on his body for the night. He knew there were more important things to worry about in the world but, in his defense, he had never felt this way before.

It all had to do with this one girl. About a year previously, he had begun to see her all over his Instagram feed. A few of his friends had recently befriended her and she seemed to suddenly appear in a variety of their posts. At first, he found it a little odd that there was someone so involved with his friends that he didn’t know or hadn’t heard of. He hadn’t thought much about it the first few weeks she had popped up in said photos. He had seen her hair or profile floating in the background of some of his bandmates’ posts, her laugh recorded as she filmed some of his companions videos, and this majestic and oddly captivating smile popping up in a dozen other photos. That was what had first drawn him in, if he was being completely honest. He thought her lips were a peculiar shape; but in a good way. They were a nice contrast to the sculpted ones that seemed to crowd his social media feeds. Harry was not one to judge others for their decision to change their features. He figured if something bothered somebody so much, they were entitled to change what they needed to feel better about themselves. Hers, in particular, though... Well, nobody could achieve the naturally round shape by means of filler, he thought.

He was absolutely enticed by a video in particular where Alexa, one of his close friends, had filmed while approaching her as she stood, arranging flowers in a vase. It seemed to be in somebody’s grand foyer, but Harry wasn’t as interested in all the grandeur that had surrounded her. He was ashamed to say he had studied the video for a lot longer than he would have liked to. Her hair looked like it had been held together by one of those silk scarves he had seen tied on various overpriced bags. She bore an oversized tee shirt as she worked in her space of plant clippings and, what seemed to be, forgotten stems. She spoke of line, or dimension, or something but all he could focus on was the way her lips curved when her joke about sunflowers being flowers for sons failed.

“That was so bad, oh my God,” came her laugh as she shook her head and went back to whatever she had originally intended to explain. He noticed she liked to use her hands while she articulated her thought process.

Another one of the many videos in existence had played a recording of her singing "I Just Called To Say I Love You” to one of their friends as a voicemail. Harry couldn’t believe the emotion it stirred inside of him. It was the most endearing little voice that hardly broke, and the little giggle at the end pulled at his heartstrings and he wasn’t sure why. There was this thought nagging at the back of his mind that he could get really invested in this girl if he allowed himself.

One day, he had to go against his better judgement and had tapped on her handle in one of the many tagged photos he had seen. Her profile popped up so easily and he knew he was doomed. One shot was of her sprawled across a bed, her bare legs kicked up against the headboard, feet covered in red fuzzy slippers as she seemingly read John Boyne’s The Heart's Invisible Furies. He had done little research on the book before he got a confirmation e-mail on his purchase.

Another image depicted her sitting cross legged on the floor, surrounded by a sea of various sized and shaped seashells. He couldn't help but smile at at the image of her in jeans, topless while holding up two shells over either side of her chest. She had captioned it “What the shell?”. It wasn’t funny; but he found himself eventually laughing at the caption.

It was a real slippery slope that he had fallen down. He knew better than to poke around in somebody’s social media accounts, yet there he was—laughing and gushing at the dozens of photos she had posted. There weren’t many likes on the photos and her follower count was nothing to boast about. He wondered what she did for work... There was nothing written in the little biography section and he wouldn’t allow himself to look her up on any other forms of media. He wondered how she had met so many of the people he knew.

“She was working with one of those self-help magazine column things,” Alexa had informed him over brunch one sunny afternoon.

“S'very LA,” Harry chuckled to himself, and he wasn’t sure why, but he felt badly after the words came out of his mouth.

“No, she’s not like that. She refuses to move out here; lives in San Francisco—says it gives her less anxiety,” Alexa explained as she took a bite of her veggie burger, “anyways, I guess she was working on writing or producing some documentary series with some director—Larraín, I think—and I guess he liked her so much he offered her a big gig in one of his films a couple years back.”

“Ah,” came Harry’s understanding nod. He had never heard of the man, but was surprised to hear such a drastic change of careers.

“Guess she’s a bit of a fan,” Alexa shrugged as she looked around the restaurant they had been seated at, “Florence keeps trying to get you two in the same room. You saw that video Maggie posted of Florence’s shin dig a few months ago?”

“Yeah! Got all spooked or summat,” Harry furrowed his brows as he shoveled some of the rice he had ordered earlier into his mouth.

“Well, I guess,” Alexa stopped as her eyes widened and her lips curved into a grin, “someone’s been cyber stalking.”

“Ah, s’nothing,” Harry’s cheeks burned as he reached for his water.

“Anyways, no, I guess she was mortified because you walked in,” Alexa burst into laughter.

“Me?” Harry gasped, pointing at himself in disbelief.

“Yeah,” Alexa continued to chortle before coughing into her fist, “m’telling you; she’s quite a fan.”

“Huh,” came Harry’s response as he took a drink from his water, “s’interesting.”

It hadn’t been long before he had joined in on everybody’s attempts to get into the same room as the female. Eventually, he had found out through James Corden that a producer on his show was great friends with Y/N, and the rest had been history.

He felt ridiculous as he stood in front of his mirror staring at the clothing that had been sent to him earlier that day. He groaned as he forcefully shedded the blazer from his shoulders and went in search for something more casual.

+ + +

It had already been a pretty long morning for Y/N. She had been waken at six in the morning by Jamie claiming one of the vendors fell through and was demanding a larger sum of money if Y/N really wanted them to serve food at her gathering. A groggy eyed Y/N had wandered into her study to find the contract she had drawn up with the business and had gotten them on the phone within thirty minutes bringing up the terms of contingencies the two had agreed upon. It had taken a bit of haggling on both ends, but Y/N finally got the company to agree to their original terms. It was ten by the time Y/N had just started to fall asleep when Benny, one of the decorators, had messaged Y/N about a missing table. From then on, it seemed one miniature disaster occurred one after the other. Never in the time Y/N had held such events had so many things gone wrong last minute. Thankfully, she was able to resolve most of the pop up problems, but by the time Y/N was supposed to be getting ready for the night, she felt as though she could drop at any given moment with how exhausted she felt. She had jumped back into bed and set an alarm for a thirty minute snooze, but even that had been interrupted by Jamie calling her to open her front door. The designer of the outfit Y/N agreed to wear for the night had mixed up her measurements and the fit was all out of proportions. So, Y/N and Jamie had frantically started going through her closet to see what possible contenders there were for the night. Naturally, Jamie had wanted Y/N to wear her most revealing dress, but Y/N wouldn’t allow it. She insisted that such an outfit wouldn't allow her to dance as comfortably as something a little more sensible. The two compromised as Y/N finally settled for a calf length, flowy dress that was low cut and had cut outs around her midsection.

Thankfully, Y/N had made it to the venue on time to help set up, iced soy latte in hand—Jamie had insisted on the way over when she saw Y/N nodding off in the passenger seat. Magno had chewed Y/N out for having come in so early, again. He always told her they had things handled so she could literally “roll up with everybody else.” Y/N usually always replied how she liked to see everything set up before people arrived, anyways, so it was usually, really no bother. This particular day, though, she really wished she had taken her uncle up on such an offer.

The sun had started to set when people started flooding in. Y/N didn’t know how to act. Usually, she would already be pulling people into rooms and forcing them to dance with her, whether they liked it or not. She would circle around greeting friends and their plus ones, telling them what her favorite foods to order were and what drinks to try at the bar. With Harry coming, though, Y/N had to fight the urge to plant herself at the entrance just to catch a glimpse of him. Honestly speaking, despite her best efforts to speak with everyone who participated in her festivities, there were nights when a friend would message her the next day saying that they were sorry they weren't able to talk to her and to plan something in the future. She hoped that wouldn’t be the case with Harry, but the more people that started showing up, the more she had begun to be pulled every which way by her guests. Jamie had assured her that she would be on the look out for the male, but Y/N had thought that a little unfair and told Jamie not to worry about it and to enjoy herself, instead.

“Y/N! Odie wants you to head back to the kitchen for something special,” Jamie had come up behind Y/N while she stood chatting with some companions.

“Hm? Oh, okay,” Y/N seemed flustered as Jamie grabbed a hold of her hand and pulled her away from her friends, “what? Did he walk in?”

“Hm? Oh,” Jamie nervously chuckled to herself as the two continued walking towards the back of the venue, “eh... no... Odie really does have something for you, but I’m sure he’ll be here any minute.”

“He’s not coming,” Y/N sighed before shaking her head, “it’s really better that he doesn’t. I’d make a fool of myself.”

“Oh my God, stop being so dramatic,” Jamie began before the two were interrupted by one of Y/N’s acquaintances.

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N,” came Daphne’s frantic chants as Y/N and Jamie turned to face the young woman, “you have to come with me right now.”

“Why? What’s going on?” Y/N furrowed her brow, thinking something else had gone wrong.

“Mikka just spotted him at the back entrance; come on,” Daphne grabbed a hold of Y/N’s forearm before pulling her towards the direction she had come from.

“Wait,” Jamie pulled Y/N the other way.

“Jamie!” Y/N yelped from being caught in the middle of such a tug of war.

“Sorry,” Jamie laughed before gaining her composure, “I feel like going over there now makes her look desperate.”

“What? No way!” Daphne rolled her eyes.

“It makes it seem like she had people watching for him,” Jamie reasoned.

“I mean, I kinda did,” Y/N shrugged.

“It does not! It’s polite to greet your guests,” Daphne argued.

“Yeah, but not the moment they step foot into the party! Shouldn’t he seek her out?” Jamie tried to dispute.

“He already has by coming in the first place,” Daphne narrowed her eyes and shook her head. The two friends had started going back and forth on what would be considered appropriate while Y/N’s head started to throb with all the decision making she had already had to do throughout the day, and the blasting music in the background. It was when Y/N looked up from rubbing her sinuses when she felt her heart skip a beat. Just a few feet away was Harry, stood speaking with some woman she didn’t recognize. In perfect Harry fashion, he looked jaw droopingly gorgeous. Y/N was sure if any other man on the planet had attempted to sport his outfit, they would have looked ridiculous. However, as always, Harry could pull anything off. She suddenly remembered the subject matter her friends were currently debating and hoped to God the music was too loud for him to overhear them.

“You guys,” Y/N interjected before the two females neared Y/N to better hear the words she spoke, “don’t look; he’s right there.”

“Oh, my God,” Daphne gasped as she immediately looked over to where Y/N had nodded.

“She literally said not to look,” Jamie scolded before rolling her eyes.

“I can’t help it; he’s the literal love of my life,” Daphne seemed to sob, “Y/N, you'd better go over there before he gets mobbed... by me.”

“Daphne’s right, go say hi,” Jamie nodded.

“But,” Y/N tried to buy some time before her friends pushed her away from them, closer to where Harry stood. Y/N tried to recover her balance on her heels from the push as she looked over her shoulder to see them giving her encouraging smiles and a thumbs up. God, she hoped he didn’t see that. As she approached the couple ahead, she couldn’t help but feel the lightest tinge of jealousy creeping over her at the woman that stood so closely to him. Then she started to feel as though she would be interrupting an intimate chat if she were to just walk up to the pair to say hello. She decided against greeting him as she tried to find the nearest person to glob onto before actually catching his eye. The way he smiled at her made her face burn and she knew she would have to think of something intelligent or interesting to say—quick. She watched as he said something to the woman he was with before she nodded and left him. This was sure to mean that she could approach him... right?

“Hi!” Was all Y/N could muster as she smiled at Harry. She wasn’t sure if she should go for the hug or handshake, and so there was this awkward carrying on where Harry had gone in for the embrace while Y/N stuck out her arm. Then came the same predicament only with the two swapping actions. Harry finally grabbed Y/N’s hand in his own hands to greet her.

“Sorry; didn’t want to interrupt over there,” Harry nodded over to where Daphne and Jamie were not even attempting to hide the fact that they were trying to eavesdrop on the two.

“Oh, no! That’s fine; they were just telling me whether or not I should head over here and whether it would make me look desperate,” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Desperate?” Harry cocked his head, his lips grinning.

“They like to overanalyze everything; they think just because you’re here tonight, you want to get in my pants or something,” Y/N laughed before realizing what she had just said and really wishing she hadn’t come in so early. She must have been delirious; she could get real open and chatty when she was exhausted. All Harry could do was laugh.

“Sorry, must be a little delirious or something. I haven’t even had a lick to drink tonight,” Y/N nervously laughed.

“S’fine! Sorry, I was late! I forgot what traffic can be like over here on the weekend,” Harry rolled his eyes, “but thank you for inviting me!”

“Oh, it’s no problem,” Y/N anxiously laughed, “James didn’t want to come?”

“No, s’too much of a scrooge,” Harry laughed, “you look great!”

“Please! Look at you,” Y/N beamed as she gave him a once over.

“Eh,” Harry shrugged his shoulders, rolling his eyes, “they’re not stretchy pants, was afraid I’d overdressed.”

“Oh, my god! I can’t believe I said that. No, Latinos live for this kind of stuff; it’s like their Paris Fashion Week, so you might be a little underdressed, if anything,” Y/N joked as her wrist went to nudge at Harry’s arm.

“Is that what it is?” Harry laughed as he looked around at all the people that had started looking their way.

“Yeah,” Y/N noticed the eyes that had gravitated their way, “have you gotten anything to eat or drink, yet?”

“No! Didn’t know what to get; there’s so much,” Harry shook his head as his brows raised on his forehead.

“S’not much of a time without a drink! C’mon, let’s get you something yummy,” Y/N smiled as she took hold of Harry’s hand before looking behind her to see her friends still staring at them. She mouthed that the two were headed to the kitchen. The two nodded and shoed them away. It was when Harry had caught up to Y/N’s pace that she had realized she was still holding onto Harry’s hand.

“S’really big!” Harry shouted over the music as Y/N let go of his hand, making Harry look down at the loss of contact. He had debated reaching out for it once more, but thought it ridiculous.

“A lot of people couldn’t make it,” Y/N laughed as they neared the kitchen.

“What?” Harry gaped as he followed. There were fewer people the further they had gotten from where they had met and he felt like Y/N could hear him without having to yell.

“I mean,” Y/N shrugged as her name was suddenly called out and she looked around to wave back at whoever had called her name, “I kinda copied the idea from an event we had back home, and they had twice as many rooms.”

“Twice?” Harry marveled at the girl walking beside him.

“Yeah,” Y/N nodded, smiling at the memory, “it was nice, though! All the vendors in town would pitch in and serve, and even though there were twice as many people, everybody knew each other. Newcomers always came back the next year, and it was just a nice little event everybody looked forward to every year, you know?”

“I’d have liked to see that,” Harry shook his head as the two finally entered the kitchen. Y/N was about to respond but was interrupted.

“Y/N!” Came a shout from somewhere in the back, making Y/N pick up her pace towards the man that had caught sight of her.

“Odie!” Y/N gasped as she spread her arms open to the man before he took her in his arms and leaned back to pick her up from the ground.

“You’ve come to say hello to your amiguinho?” Odie widened his eyes at Y/N.

“Claro!” Y/N’s smile radiated her familiarity with the man before going to plant a kiss on his cheek.

“Ah, meu bem, have you brought me someone to cook for?” Odie asked, the sound of Y/N’s heels landing back on firm ground as he looked around her body at Harry.

“Oh, Odie, this is my friend Harry,” Y/N looked back and signaled for Harry to come closer, “Harry this is Odie.”

“Nice to meet you, Sir Styles,” Odie’s eyes squinted as he smiled at the young man as he stuck out his hand for Harry to take.

“Nice to meet you, Odie,” Harry reciprocated his smile.

“O que ele disse?” Odie furrowed his brows at Y/N.

“Ah, you’ll have to speak up, Harry. Ele é surdo,” Y/N spoke up to Odie, laughing when he elbowed her side, “he can’t hear very well out of his left ear on account of always yelling at people.”

“Feh,” Odie swiped a palm through the air, “makes a good chef.”

“Excuses,” Y/N narrowed her eyes and shook her head, “Jamie said you had something for me.”

“Sim! Vem, vem, vem,” Odie ushered the two over to another section of his kitchen, cursing a few people that had not moved out of his way. Y/N had apologized to those he cursed as she trailed behind Odie. She spoke so softly, if he hadn't been trying, Harry wouldn’t have known she was apologizing.

“I know you couldn’t have them last time, but I finally worked out how to make it sem laticínios,” Odie paused as he turned to the couple behind him, “no dairy.”

“Pasteis de nata?” Y/N gasped as her eyes fell to where a pan of pastries on the counter.

“Sim! Yes,” Odie’s eyes shrank as he gave her his biggest smile, “tente! Try! Please.”

“Odie, obrigado! It smelled absolutely celestial last time, my mouth was watering. I almost threw away cinco anos de veganismo to taste it,” Y/N explained as she reached to grab two of the pastries from the pan before handing the other to Harry.

“What is it? Paste de,” Harry paused as he looked between Y/N and Odie for the answer.

“Pasteis de nata,” Odie answered, as Y/N had already popped the pastry into her mouth, laughing because she couldn’t speak with her mouth so full.

“Pasteis de nata,” Harry repeated before Odie nodded with glee.

“Try!” Odie insisted before Harry went to taste the food.

“Oh, Odie,” Y/N moaned, her eyes rolling, “you’ve outdone yourself! Está perfeito! Que gostoso! E a receita?”

“É um segredo,” Odie shook his head, “you ever want; avise-se me! Call me!”

“S’delicious,” Harry gaped as he went in for another bite.

“I know,” Odie grinned, crossing his arms over her chest, “your new boyfriend?”

“Hm? Oh, no,” Y/N quickly interjected, shaking her head, “actually, can we take one for his date?”

At this point, somebody had called for Odie somewhere within the kitchen and he had cursed under his breath before turning back to Y/N.

“Meu bem, sempre um prazer. Pleasure, pleasure,” Odie gave Y/N another smile as he went to sandwich her hand in his own, “you’ll come and visit, soon?”

“Of course,” Y/N nodded as she laid her free hand on top of his, “muito obrigado por ter vindo.”

“Ah, your Portuguese está melhorando,” Odie shook his head at Y/N, “much better, meu bem. Harry! Foi um prazer conhece-lo; lovely to meet you. Conte-me, what’s your favorite food?”

“Eh,” Harry chuckled, trying to think of something, “eh, I’ll eat pretty much anything, so long as it’s not meat.”

“Okay,” Odie nodded, pensively before being yelled at once more for assistance, “Aff! Okay, I’ll make something and send out! Até logo!”

“Até logo! Thank you,” Y/N smiled as he sent a wave their way before rushing away. Y/N grabbed another small pastry and halved it to share with Harry.

“Date?” Harry scrunched his nose as he turned to look at Y/N, who had already taken a bite from her half.

“Yeah,” Y/N innocently nodded, her hand going to cover her mouth full, looking up to see Harry’s confused features, “the woman... you were speaking to? Before?”

“Oh,” Harry finally spoke after a few moments of trying to remember who he had been speaking to beforehand, “oh, no, that was just someone that just came up to me... you don’t know who it was?”

“No,” Y/N laughed at his expression, clutching her stomach as she did so, “sometimes people bring their friends that I’m not that acquainted with.”

“Ah,” Harry frowned as he put his hand on his hip, “s’that not scare you?”

“Not really,” Y/N shook her head, “it hasn’t been a problem, so far.”

“Well, wish I would’ve known that,” Harry commented with a little shrug of his shoulders.

“Why? Nobody ever asks, they just bring them,” Y/N took another bite from the dish Odie had made for her.

“Hate showing up to places alone,” Harry explained as he looked down at the half of the pastry Y/N had given him, “didn’t want anyone to think they had to entertain me.”

“Ugh, I know,” Y/N squinted and smiled as she bumped his hand with the back of her palm, “sorry, hope you don’t mind my company?”

“No, of course not,” Harry quickly shook his head before a silence came over the two.

“What? You don’t like it?” Y/N nodded toward the pastry he had been holding while blankly looking at her.

“No, s’great,” Harry smiled as he went to take a bite, “think it may be one of the best sweets I’ve ever had... What was it? That he was speaking?”

“Português,” Harry finding it endearing how easily the accent rolled off her tongue, “it’s a beautiful language, no?”

“Yeah... And you speak it?” Harry questioned as he watched her finish her half of the pastry. “No... at least not fluently. Well, it’s pretty close to Spanish, but m’learning little by little,” Y/N shrugged as she rubbed her hands together to rid them of crumbs, “hate him having to speak another language on my account, he tries so hard. Figured I could put some effort in, as well.”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, knowingly, “s’cool.”

“You want some actual food, now? I’m already getting a tummy ache with all the junk food I’ve consumed today,” Y/N smiled up at him as he took another bite of the dessert. He laughed as he raised a fist to cover his mouth.

“Sure,” came his muffled response before Y/N nodded for him to follow her. They had made their way to another room where there were a few people jotting down orders and giving people estimates of how long it would take for them to get their food.

“What do you recommend?” Harry asked as the two looked at the various options on various panels of food.

“Everything,” Y/N sighed as her eyes seemed to look for something in particular, “do you like hispanic food?”

“Yeah,” Harry shrugged before Y/N turned to look at him.

“How much spice can you handle?” Y/N questioned, raising her brows at the male.

“Oh,” Harry laughed, “eh... a good amount, I guess?”

“Okay,” Y/N turned back to the menu, “the jackfruit tacos are al pastor and can be quite spicy, so is the pozole... eh, they do a great tamale with mole sauce on top. The pasteles are pretty good... Mmm, there’s a few curry dishes and Odie’s been trying his hand at a few Asian inspired dishes.”

“‘ve got just about everything, don’t you?” Harry wondered, shaking his head. “I don’t know, now. Everything sounds good.”

“How hungry are you?” Y/N asked, a grin pulling at the corners of her mouth.

+ + +

“This is fucking delicious,” Harry groaned out. He had just tasted the tamale Y/N had ordered earlier. It was not the first time he had uttered those words throughout the night. Y/N had ordered them “a little bit of everything” and he was surprised at how much of it the two were able to put away. Within twenty minutes, a platter had been served to them with small servings of various foods. Y/N had told him she had wanted to show him something and had taken all she could in her arms before he had taken the rest in his own. She had led him up a dark flight of stairs before kicking open a door that revealed the venue’s rooftop. The two had taken a seat on the edge of a skylight, the twinkling lights of San Francisco providing enough light for them to see what they were eating—the Golden Gate Bridge was somewhere off in the distance of the fog.

“Feel like you’ve said that about all of it,” Y/N laughed as she reached for the drink she had set in front of her criss crossed legs earlier. Harry had tried what she had called Ponche—a drink infused with cinnamon, apple, and various other fruits. It had proven to be too sweet for him, so Y/N had happily agreed to finish it.

“It just keeps getting better, though,” Harry attempted to explain, “and just when I think that I’ve tried the best, I’ll go back for something else and that’s great, too... How’d you get so many vendors, anyway? I saw one actually came in from LA.”

“Yeah,” Y/N smiled before Harry squints at her.

“You must be something to have people come out so far,” Harry commented with a shake of his head, “even restaurants have a limit to how much money gets shoved at them before they refuse such a long distance to travel.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Y/N shook her head and shrugged as he watched her arm poke from his blazer to grab more food. He had noticed the goosebumps poke through her skin when they first started setting up and had debated offering her his jacket. He liked Y/N. He thought she was sweet and nice to talk to but he didn’t want to be too, as he found Y/N liked to say, cheesy. He had offered, anyways, and the item had been graciously refused by Y/N.

“Then you’ll be cold, and what’s the good in that,” Y/N scrunched her nose, “I’m used to it, anyways.”

Harry would not have it and had made a great show of taking his blazer off before wrapping her in the remnant warmth of his own body. She had laughed (he realized he really liked the sound) and thanked him. It was then that Jamie had interrupted the two, apologetically delivering a sushi roll Odie had sent up before hurrying away—Y/N had rolled her eyes as she called out to her that she was welcome to stay. Jamie had refused and wished them a great rest of their night. As for the sushi roll, Harry had fallen in love. It had tempura carrots and sweet potato with cucumber and Harry was over the moon with the little sweet sauce that had been drizzled over it.

“I hope I don’t sound presumptuous, but you were a fan?” Harry asked as he reached for the Jamaica Y/N had urged him to try. It was a red hibiscus juice that was too bitter for his tongue at the first sip, but it had started to grow on him.

“Oh my gosh, yes,” Y/N furrowed her brows, “I’m surprised I didn’t pass out on the show.”

“Really?” Harry’s brows raised as he sat the cup back down in front of him.

“Yeah, why do you ask?” Y/N asked, cocking her head at him. She had grown suspicious that people had told him of her attempts to avoid him. She was sure Florence had outed her. “Dunno why, but I can’t peg you as the type,” Harry shook his head.

“Well, what's the type?” Y/N inquired as she popped another bit of tamale into her mouth. He had long been in awe of how she had substituted her fork for chop sticks.

“You know what I mean,” Harry sighed as he leaned back on his hands, his legs outstretched, “you were so calm on the show. Could’ve fooled me... Who was your favorite?”

“Oh my God, I’m not telling you that,” Y/N refused as she tucked some of her hair behind her ear.

“Must have been me then,” Harry narrowed his eyes at Y/N and nodded as he pursed his lips at her.

“Wow,” Y/N gaped as she turned to look at his snickering features, “a little full of yourself, aren’t you?”

“I mean, is there any other reason why you wouldn’t answer the question, Y/N?” Harry shrugged as he turned to look at Y/N. He liked how he looked with his blazer over her shoulders. It almost looked as if it was intentionally a part of her outfit.

“What if it’s one of the other boys and I just don’t want to risk you running off to tell them?” Y/N shook her head as she watched him pop a plantain into his mouth.

“Then Florence must have been lying when she told me you used to have posters of me up on your walls,” Harry shrugged, nonchalantly.

“Oh my God,” Y/N cried out, her hands going to cover her face before they dropped to reveal her annoyed features, “first of all, it was one and I only put it up as a joke.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Harry laughed as the two reached for the last samosa. Harry tsked and Y/N squinted over at him.

“Don’t think just because you were a little fan, I’m just going to let you have it,” Harry shook his head.

“I will physically fight you,” Y/N shook her head.

“Jesus, give a boy a chance, won’t you?” Harry widened his eyes as he went to cough into his elbow.

“Rock, paper, scissors?” Y/N offered with a shake of her head.

“Okay,” Harry shrugged as he turned his body to face her, which she reciprocated. The two chanted the necessary words before Y/N’s hand landed as rock and Harry’s as paper.

“Ah,” Harry cheered as his larger palm went to cover Y/N’s fist, “best two out of three?” “Okay,” Y/N responded, closing her eyes before the two commenced with their antics. Y/N had won the second round, and for the third, Harry had used “fire,” which had started a bit of an argument.

“No, no. It’s called ‘rock, paper, scissors,’ Harry,” Y/N shook her head as she watched him rub his hands on his thighs.

“It’s fire! It beats everything,” Harry chuckled as he went to grab the samosa.

“Absolutely not,” Y/N playfully argued, “if that’s the case then I want another round where we’re using made up rules, that way I can use the water balloon thing.”

“Okay, Phoebe Buffay,” Harry muttered before giving the samosa to Y/N.

“Here,” Y/N chortled as she tore the turnover in half and handed one of the two to Harry, to which they tapped the two together in cheers.

“What’ve you been listening to lately? I feel like I’ve been listening to the same three songs for the past few months, and it’s getting pretty bleak,” Y/N stated as she looked on toward the city lights.

“Ooh, well I’ve kind of rediscovered my love for the lyricism of some of Joni Mitchell’s-” Harry began before Y/N tensed.

“Joni Mitchell?” Y/N’s brows had furrowed.

“Yeah,” Harry replied as he turned his head to look at her. There was an awkward pause where Y/N seemed to be mulling something over.

“Didn’t she... didn’t she do blackface on one of her album covers?” Y/N asked after swallowing her food, brushing some crumbs from her lap.

“Eh,” Harry didn’t know how to answer the question, “she said that she really identified with-”

“No,” Y/N shook her head, “I... I don’t know... I just feel like that’s not a good enough reason. She hasn’t experienced what they’ve experienced. I think... I think that’s kind of unfair of her to say.”

“Uh,” Harry trailed as he tried to think of what to respond before shaking his head, “no, that... that makes sense.”

There was a moment of silence where Harry wondered if he had just messed everything up.

“I’m sorry, I,” Y/N began before Harry went to fervently shake his head.

“No,” Harry voiced, “you’re completely right. I just... I guess I never thought about it like that, but thank you for bringing it to my attention. I never want to support someone... someone that isn’t... well, considerate, I suppose.”

“No,” Y/N also shook her head, “I haven’t read much more about it. Maybe she apologized... or something. Sometimes I overreact-”

“You didn’t,” Harry assured, his hand going to cover Y/N’s and Y/N couldn’t help but sigh a breath of relief. Her last boyfriend had always gotten so angry when she spoke about such things. It was a breath of fresh air to be heard by someone she admired so much.

“I liked putting a donation box at the front,” Harry quickly changed the subject, “s’a good idea.”

“Right?” Y/N raised her brows and nodded. “Wish I could take credit for it; but Jamie was the one that had suggested it.”

“Jamie seems real nice,” Harry commented as he went in for another bite of samosa.

“Yeah, she’s sweet,” Y/N smiled. The two sat in a comfortable silence where they listened as the song playing beneath them had changed.

“See,” Harry nudged her arm, “what’s this? I can never differentiate between different genres... is that not tasteful to say?”

“No, not at all,” Y/N shook her head, “I had trouble with it when I was younger. This sounds like it’s cumbia.”

“And how’s it danced? How is it different than, like, salsa?” Harry asked, going for the Jamaica, again.

“Mm,” Y/N hummed as she finished chewing and swallowing, “salsa tends to be more front and back, while cumbia is more to the sides, but there’s a few different ways to dance it.”

“Will you teach me?” Harry asked as he set down the cup of red liquid to his side.

“Yeah, sure!” Y/N smiled as she set down what was left of her samosa and slipping Harry’s blazer from her shoulders. “D’ya mind terribly if I lay it on the glass, here? S’okay if you do! Can put it back on. Don’t wanna get it dirty.”

“No, it’s fine!” Harry nodded before the two pushed up from their seat.

“Okay so you can do a simple two steps to either side like this,” Y/N began.

“Okay, but y’can’t poke fun at me, because I know I’ll look ridiculous,” Harry seemed to pout, his hands at his hips.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Y/N almost seemed to scorn before grabbing his hands and urging him to follow her steps, “there you go!”

“Yeah?” Harry asked as he stepped back to look at her feet. “You said there were a few ways; which do you prefer?”

“That I prefer? Mm, you almost want to think like your skipping,” Y/N explained as she crossed one foot over the other, “and then you kick this one out.”

“So you cross this one,” Harry followed as he looked at his own feet before looking to Y/N for further instruction.

“Yeah, and then kick that one out,” Y/N pointed to one of his legs before he followed her direction, “yep, just like that. Then you do the same on the other side. Mm-hm.”

“Just like that?” Harry asked as he carried out a slightly faster pace.

“Yeah! You’ve got it,” Y/N beamed before her hands went to bump his arms up, “and you’ve gotta move those arms. It’s like fifty percent of looking like you know what you’re doing.”

Harry laughed before inquiring on turns, which Y/N roughly helped him get an idea of how to lead a turn. It took a while but Harry was a fast learner. Before too long he was comfortably leading her in a turn, but was confused when Y/N started laughing.

“What? What’d I do?” Harry asked as he searched her features for an answer.

“No, nothing,” Y/N calmed from her previous fit of laughter, “this song’s just funny. He’s talking about marrying a fish, or mermaid, I guess.”

“A mermaid?” Harry cracked a smile at the explanation.

“Yeah, and they have a baby with the face of an angel but the tail of a fish,” Y/N snickers, “but soldiers came one day and accused him of eating her for breakfast. Sorry, it’s not even funny, I don’t know why I’m laughing so much.”

“Of eating her?” Harry gaped before laughing along with Y/N, as his hold on her slips. “What have you got me dancing to, Y/N?”

“Some sick, true crime episode, apparently,” Y/N laughs before Harry grabbed Y/N’s hand.

“I can do a bit of salsa,” Harry smiled with excitement, “and by a bit, I mean a teeny tiny bit.”

“Okay, let’s see it,” Y/N responded as Harry had tried to get her into a ballroom hold, “oh, damn.”

“What?” Harry laughed down at Y/N.

“This is, like, a hold,” Y/N widened her eyes, a soft smile forming amidst her features.

“What’d you mean?” Harry inquired, confused by her phrasing.

“No, it’s just, I’ve never been in, like, a ballroom hold for salsa,” Y/N shrugged, “that’s professional ish.”

“Stop,” Harry rolled his eyes, “how’d you dance it, then?”

“No! I didn’t mean it like that, I’ve just never seen it danced like that, but you learn something new everyday,” Y/N reasoned before bouncing in place.

“Now, I’m embarrassed,” Harry huffed out a laugh, “all I know is you go back and forth.”

“No! M’sorry! Didn’t mean anything by it,” Y/N pleaded, pouting out her bottom lip.

“Oy vey,” Harry rolled his eyes, “you asked for it.”

“What do you mean? S’not bad! It’s a basic salsa step, that’s all you need,” Y/N shrugged as he led her in the little step he knew.

“Yeah, but you were doing way more in that video James showed,” Harry responded.

“Yeah, but that’s a bunch of fluff, mostly for show,” Y/N pursed her lips and shook her head before Harry attempted a turn. It was the wrong way, but Y/N wouldn't call him out on it.

“Sorry m’not a better dancer,” Harry feigned a whimper.

“Me, too,” Y/N joked as Harry gaped at her.

“Hey,” Harry droned out, his features showing a bit of offense as he furrowed his brows at her.

“M’only kidding,” Y/N giggled.

“I’m really trying,” Harry whimpered out, once again, feigning offense.

“Alright, then. I already said you’re a fine dancer, no?” Y/N teased, making Harry's eyes widen in surprise.

“Okay, little Miss Show Off, what else can you show me?” Harry asked.

“You’ve got a real mean streak, you know that?” Y/N replied.

“I’m a dream,” Harry said in a matter of factly tone. Neither had noticed that they had started simply swaying back and forth. The music had changed to something quite slow, and Y/N assumed they had wandered over another room. Y/N had gotten distracted by the view of the city before she turned to see Harry staring at her, a little smile taking over his features. Y/N had a moment where she believed she had to have been stuck in some sort of fever dream.

“What else did you wanna learn?” Y/N stammered, breaking eye contact with Harry.

“Eh, this is quite nice,” Harry shrugged as he pulled Y/N a little closer, “like dancing white people music with you.”

“Please,” Y/N cringed, shaking her head as she fought the urge to laugh, “I can’t believe I said that.”

“I thought it was funny,” Harry shrugged as he went to carefully dip Y/N

“You know, if I didn’t know any better, I would say I’m living an actual sappy, cheesy, fan fiction moment,” Y/N teased as Harry held her body up with a palm to her back.

“I cannot believe you’ve read that smut,” Harry shook his head, mockingly disapproval.

“Why would you jump to that conclusion? I could have been into that cottagecore stuff,” Y/N defended.

“What the fuck is cottagecore? What? Is it people that like to have sex in miniature cottages,” Harry furrowed his brows before yanking Y/N’s body back up to him, where the two were forced to bump noses. This had caused the two to burst into a fit of giggles, Harry reaching out to grab a hold of Y/N’s shoulders and ducking his head to make sure Y/N was alright.

+ + +

“S’this it?” Harry seemed to whisper as he had pulled up to Y/N’s home, her looking out the passenger window to see the familiar sight of her home.

“Yeah,” Y/N sighed as her fingers went to press on the little button that would release the buckle of her seatbelt. Harry and Y/N had stayed on the rooftop for a while longer than either had anticipated. So, when Jamie’s sleepy features had appeared, inquiring as to how the two were, Y/N had jumped up, slipping Harry’s blazer off her shoulders as she tried saying she was ready to leave.

“Sorry, guys, ’ve just had a long day,” Jamie hung her head, apologetically, before going to look at Harry, “you can always talk to her tomorrow.”

“Jamie,” Y/N nervously chuckled as she began folding Harry’s blazer to return to him.

“S’fine,” Harry waved away her attempts to return the piece of clothing, “you can give it to me the next time I see you.”

“Oh, okay,” Y/N smiled as she hesitantly unfolded the blazer to slip back into, chuckling as she did so, “still warm.”

“Or you could drive her home,” Jamie droned, making Y/N’s eyes widen as her head whipped around to glare at Jamie, “you know... so you guys can keep talking. I didn’t want to interrupt your invigorating conversation about... what was it? Volcanoes on the moon?”

“They were a real thing,” Harry insisted, making Y/N smile and narrow her eyes at him, “but, yeah, if you want to head home now, I can drive her a little later.”

“See?” Jamie raised her eyebrows at Y/N before sticking her tongue out at her.

“Okay, well,” Y/N paused as she looked back at Harry, “only if you're sure.”

“Of course,” Harry seemed to sing along.

So, Jamie had made her way back to her vehicle as Harry and Y/N remained on the rooftop, continuing their random subjects of discussions. It hadn’t been long before Y/N had let out a yawn, and Harry insisted that he take her home before she fell asleep on the roof. It was a comfortable ride where Y/N would pipe up with random facts about her hometown as the passed different locations. Harry found it impossible when Y/N had told him the fortune cookie had been invented in San Francisco, but the way she spoke could definitely make him believe anything. He liked seeing her so animated about such random topics.

“Are you staying in town tonight? I really hope you’re not making the trip back tonight—even a flight’s like two hours, no?” Y/N cocked her head at Harry as he knuckled at his eye, one of his rings catching the moonlight and shining in Y/N’s eye.

“No,” Harry shook his head, “staying at a friend’s house and driving back tomorrow.”

“Oh, that’s good,” Y/N nodded her head. She was a little disappointed. In all honesty, if he had said any different, she most likely would have tripped over her hormones to offer for him to spend the night at hers.

“S’fine, really. S’cold out,” Harry spoke lowly and held his palm out in protest as he saw her begin to peel off his blazer, once more.

“It’s not that far of a walk, really,” the apples of Y/N’s cheeks were prominent with the smile she gave him, “thanks... well, it was nice seeing you tonight.”

“It was nice seeing you, thank you for inviting me. I’ve not forgotten our dim sum date at that one place,” Harry pointed a finger at Y/N, accusingly, narrowing his eyes at her.

“No, of course not,” Y/N laughed off his casual use of the term “date,” as she felt her face heat up, “let me know when you’re in town, again.”

“No, you let me know when you’re available,” Harry shook his head as he looked out his windshield.

“Oh, so the ball’s in my court, now?” Y/N teased with a nod of her head.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, “don’t get me wrong, s’a lovely town... but I don’t come here very often. Don’t know many people, here.”

“Oh, well, if L.A.’s easier,” Y/N began, before Harry chuckled.

“S’not what I meant. I know L.A. makes you nervous,” Harry shook his head at her, knowingly.

“I don’t know why,” Y/N scoffed, “I have to work there so often, but I just hate it. It doesn’t really feel like home, you know? Like I know a lot of people, but it’s not like they’re... I don’t know.”

“No, I get it,” Harry’s lips barely curved into a knowing smile, “d’ya mind terribly if I did something?”

“What?” Y/N questioned before Harry reached over to grab the side of her face in one of his warm palms before he carefully leaned in to connect their lips. She let out an odd noise, it was somewhere between a squeak of surprise and the beginning of sentence. Though it had taken her by surprise, she couldn’t help but smile at the taste of the sweet Jamaica he had slowly started warming up to. He had been the one to pull away, his eyes still closed when she opened hers.

“Sorry,” Harry dimpled, shaking his head, and at this proximity, Y/N could see the little crinkles at the corners of his eyes, “was that okay?”

“Yeah,” Y/N beamed as he finally opened his green eyes to stare into hers, both trying to read emotion on the other’s expression, “was lovely.”

“Yeah,” Harry slowly blinked at Y/N.

+ + +

The next day, ordinarily, would not have been anything special for Y/N. She had worked for a few hours and then had gotten to spend some time with some friends before returning to her home to tidy up. What had been different, though, and what had made all she encountered ask her why she seemed so happy that particular day had everything to do with Harry.

She had waken up to someone at her front door. It had scared her, at first. She hadn’t been expecting anybody so early. She had grabbed a sweater and slid her arms through the sleeves as she bounced down the stairs, brows furrowed as she ran her fingers through her hair, her fingers catching on the knots that had formed overnight. She had unlocked her phone to see who was standing at her doorstep, but had been confused as she saw an empty frame. She debated whether it was worth opening the door to check if whoever had rang the doorbell had rushed away. Something compelled her to do so, anyways. The door had swung open and something on her stoop’s little table captured her attention. There, on the little table, were white lilies wrapped in some brown paper, a little cup of hot liquid, and a small, familiar pastry bag. She knew who it was from judging by the little cup of hot chocolate she had told Harry about the night before. She looked up in time to see a car that resembled the one she rode in the night previously turn around her block.

Later that day, while she had been sorting through her Excel bill sheet on her laptop, her phone had rang out, making her look at the top corner of her screen for the message that had come through.

How was your morning?

Y/N smiled as she set her laptop aside and grabbed her phone. She hadn’t set Harry’s contact information up in her laptop, so it had read his phone number instead of the name she had assigned him in her phone’s contacts. A feeling stirred inside of her as she had the sudden urge to see his face. She wondered if it would be too much to FaceTime him... She had a habit of moving things along too quickly and falling too hard, too fast in the past. They had only just met, but he had been the one to bring her breakfast that morning, afterall...

😂 Was that you? Didn’t want to assume...

She bit her lip in anticipation as she watched the little gray bubble appear and disappear a few times. She was thankful she had disabled her read receipts in the past when the next message swooped in.

Good Gravy Miss Daisy. Hard one to woo, aren’t you, mate?

... don’t like that I used that phrase... please ignore :/

Y/N laughed out at the message that had come directly after the first. She could not believe he had actually took the time to type out the emoticon instead of just using the built in keyboard on his phone for emojis.

I wasn’t about to make an entire fool of myself! If I had thanked you earlier and it wasn’t you, I would have been mortified, you noodle!

A few moments went by, and nothing. Not even the little bubble she had seen the previous time. She had decided to lock her phone and get back to the task she had been doing, picking up her computer and setting it on her lap. She had gone through a few more bills before she looked down at her silent phone to her right. She frowned as her hands went to tie her hair up in a ponytail. She had just pulled the elastic off of her wrist to complete her ponytail when both her phone and her computer rang out. She instantly recognized the sound before she even saw the application pop up on her computer. She yelped out as she quickly tore out the elastic from her hair, and grimaced. She had probably damaged a few strands of hair for being so aggressive, but there was no way the ponytail had been as neat as she would want if she were to FaceTime with Harry. She knew she looked disheveled. She had been out and about with makeup all day. She knew the liner she had put on earlier that morning had probably smudged and transferred onto her lower lash line. She knew the lipstick she had rubbed onto her lips had probably left remnants in the cracks of her lips. She would have wanted a little more notice to be able to look presentable, at the very least. But if she had fixed all the things she had wanted, she would have missed her opportunity to accept Harry’s call. So, she figured letting her hair down would be good enough. It wasn’t long before she had clicked on the “Accept” button and had waited for the call to connect. The little sound that signaled a connection rang out and Harry’s features popped up on her little computer screen. Y/N wanted to squeal at how adorable the young man looked. He was in a gray hoodie, but his little curls poked out of the pulled hood. His lips seemed to glow compared to his puffy and soft, pale features—as if he might have just woken from a deep slumber.

“Sorry!” Harry seemed to be laughing, “is it too late? Figured you were responding to my messages...”

“No! No, I was just doing some... work,” Y/N shook her head as she made herself more comfortable on her couch.

“Oh, okay, good,” Harry nodded as he rubbed at his face, “and why’d you call me a noodle? What does that mean?”

“What? You’ve never been called a noodle?” Harry smiled at the laugh he had become so familiar with the previous day.

“Can’t say that I have,” Harry furrowed his brows.

“Ugh, that was like eighty percent of my childhood entertainment,” Y/N sighed as she tried not to look up at the little frame that showed what she looked like. She hoped she didn’t look too messy. “But thank you for breakfast! It was delicious.”

“What breakfast?” Harry furrowed his brows at her. Y/N widened her eyes at her screen. He had asked if she had gotten anything special earlier that morning. How could he not have left those flowers and food at her stoop? Who else would it have-

“M’joking,” Harry rolled his eyes, “sheesh.”

“I’m sorry! It’s been a long day... But thanks, just the same. And for the lilies! They were lovely. They definitely brightened up my office this morning. How’d you know they’re my absolute favorite?” Y/N narrowed her eyes at her computer screen that had displayed his features.

“Lucky guess,” Harry shrugged his shoulders through the lie. He had wanted to say that he knew, but knew that would most likely make Y/N feel compelled to ask how he had known if the subject hadn't been breached the previous day. He didn’t feel like explaining how he had basically been cyber stalking her a few months previous.

“Meanwhile, that bakery... you may’ve turned me onto something,” Harry widened his eyes.

“Did you actually go in?” Y/N questioned, her brows raising out of shock.

“Yeah,” Harry slowly responded, narrowing his eyes, “wait, why?”

“I mean,” Y/N laughed, “I just can’t imagine you... walking into a panaderia on Mission.”

“Why?” Harry seemed to pout.

“No reason,” Y/N shrugged, clearly finding the idea amusing, for some reason, “did you get what I was saying about the smell being other worldly, though?”

“Yeah,” Harry responded, defeated, “you’re right... it smells a lot warmer... or maybe sweeter? It just might be better than any other bakery I’ve stepped into.”

“It’s all the extra cholesterol they put into their bread,” Y/N joked, “did you get anything for yourself?”

“Yeah,” Harry responded, lifting his chin as he spoke, “eh, I got one of those pink concha things and the hot chocolate? The ch... champ... champ-”

“Champurrado?” Y/N smiled, thinking it absolutely endearing at how hard he was trying to pronounce the term.

“That’s it!” Harry smiled.

“So, what’d you think?” Y/N pressed.

“Eh, was too sweet for me,” Harry grimaced, his dimple making an appearance as he pursed his lips, “but I feel like if I hadn’t gotten it with coconut milk, I would get the appeal.”

“Coconut milk? No, way! You’ve gotta try the almond milk!” Y/N widened her eyes.

“I know, you told me last night, but I usually prefer coconut milk,” Harry commented, “suppose that’s what I get for not listening to you.”

“I may not know a lot, but I know my plant alternative milks,” Y/N perked up, “how bad was the aftermath of the concha?”

“God awful,” Harry scoffed, “I made the mistake of trying to eat it on the way home and it was everywhere. There’s still sugar all over my floor mats and the passenger seat.”

“Oh, no,” Y/N burst into laughter, “m’sorry!”

“Don’t be,” Harry calmed from his own laughter, “was worth it, all the same.”

“You’ll have to get something different, next time. There’s one with pumpkin filling that’s,” Y/N kissed her fingers, making Harry laugh out.

“I have to slow down,” Harry shook his head, “m’getting pudgy.”

“Nonsense, bread goes straight to the heart,” Y/N made a face as though what Harry said could never be imaginable, “besides, pumpkin’s healthy. There’ve actually been studies that it can help boost your immune system!”

“Okay, then, it’s settled,” Harry shrugged, “I’m only eating bread for the rest of my life, so long as it’s stuffed with pumpkin.”

“Sounds like an absolute dream; sign me up,” Y/N sighed out.

“How was your day? What did you do? Anything interesting?” Harry questioned.

“It was fine,” Y/N shrugged, “work and then dinner with friends. Nothing too crazy.”

“Anyone I know?” Harry wanted to take it back as soon as he the words escaped his mouth. He felt it a bit too intrusive, given the little that they knew of one another. He wondered if he had made things awkward, but Y/N seemed unfazed.

“Mm,” she she seemed to think of the answer, “I don’t think so. Not unless you know Michelle Kelvin?”

“Is she related to Maisie?” Harry wrinkled his nose at his screen.

“Yes! They’re second cousins... twice removed... or something weird,” Y/N laughed with a shake of her head, “but yeah! She was supposed to come with us, but couldn’t last minute.”

“She’s cool,” Harry smiled.

“She really is. She always remembers my birthday and sends me a little care package every year around Thanksgiving,” Y/N made that expression he noticed she did a lot. It was whenever she was endeared by something, she would pout out her lower lip, but looked as though she were smiling. He had looked over at his image to see he looked absolutely smitten with whatever it was he was speaking to and wanted to wipe the look off his stupid face.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded his head as he suddenly felt his cheeks start to burn, and he hoped it didn’t translate through to her screen, “she’s nice.”

“I wish I could be more thoughtful,” Y/N shook her head and Harry bit his tongue. He had wanted to comment on how she really was, based off of the stories he had heard from mutual friends. Rob had told him of his wife falling in love with this rare album that she couldn’t find anywhere, and after mentioning it once to Y/N, had found it in the mail a week later with a thank you note from Y/N for dinner. Another one of many anecdotes was how she had volunteered to pick up one his friend’s daughters from school when they couldn’t find anyone else and had brought chocolates and violets for the little girl because her name was Violet. It was after this encounter that Violet would fervently continue to ask for Y/N as a babysitter.

“How was the drive back?” Y/N had interrupted his silence.

“Was fine; got home earlier than expected,” Harry features brightened as his brows momentarily rose, “was able to watch that documentary with the pig thing.”

“Isn’t that crazy?” Y/N laughed, remembering how flabbergasted Harry been when she had told him of a documentary that had explained how researchers were working on facial recognition with pigs the night before.

“Freaky,” Harry closed his eyes and shook his head, “and those birds!”

“I know,” Y/N’s eyes widened as she gaped, "it’s kinda creepy.”

“Yeah! Like, who came up with that? Who was like, let me make some animals that know the weather better than these dense humans,” Harry continued to marvel, and all Y/N could really focus on was how grateful she was to be able to see this side of Harry. She had always dreamed up this imaginary persona that she felt matched up with what interviews and social media had portrayed of the male. But she had made up her mind that she liked this version much better.

+ + +

Y/N had gotten to Magda’s house pretty early—about 6 AM, to be exact. It had been tradition for about two years, now. Y/N had met Magda at a local bookstore when Magda had approached Y/N, asking about what the kids these days were reading. They had instantly bonded over their love and appreciation for classic novels—Jane Austen’s Emma, in particular. Ever since, the two had kept in close contact and Magda had become a sort of adoptive grandmother to Y/N. It had been when Y/N had voiced her yearning for some traditionally homemade tamales that Magda had voiced her proficiency in cooking the dish and had offered to make Y/N a batch as long as she brought over spirits and a good movie. It had become a monthly event, and this time, a newcomer was to be involved.

“So,” Magda beamed as she ferociously scrubbed at a big pot she kept hidden away until moments such as these, “what’s he like?”

“Harry?” Y/N raised her brows as she pulled apart some jackfruit.

“Yes,” Magda encouraged.

“He’s nice,” Y/N nodded and looked up to see Magda knowingly grinning, “s’pretty wonderful, actually.”

“Oh,” Magda gently nodded.

“He’s... I don’t know... thoughtful? Is it foolish to think that’s such a unique feature in a man?” Y/N shook her head.

“It’s a bit disappointing that more men aren’t described in such a way,” Magda shrugged and looked up as she twisted the handle of her faucet.

“That’s true,” Y/N nodded, vacantly looking ahead, “it’s just that... he makes me feel... heard?”

“Unheard of,” Magda teased.

“I know, right,” Y/N laughed, “but he looks into your eyes when you’re talking and... I don’t know... he makes you feel like you’re the only person he’d want to be talking to and as if... what you say actually matters to him. And it’s not just me! He does it with everyone I’ve seen him around... He’s very validating and surprisingly open minded.”

“You’re pretty open minded,” Magda noted.

“No,” Y/N shook her head, “not as much as he is, I don’t think. He’s so accepting so long as there’s a good means to an end... if that makes sense. I don’t know, perhaps it’s just the fact that I’ve admired him for so long.”

Magda was about to respond when a knock came at the front door.

“Come in,” the two sang out in chorus before the sound of the doorknob being turned and the sound of the door being pushed open alarmed the two to Harry’s arrival.

“S’this a no shoes household?” Harry asked as he waited at the entrance for a response.

“It’s a whatever you prefer house,” Magda laughed as she looked over at Y/N, “s’very considerate.”

“I told you,” Y/N mumbled as she straightened in her chair.

“Thank you for asking, lovey,” Magda beamed as Harry quietly made his way into the kitchen.

“Oh, s’no problem,” Harry piped up as Y/N turned to smile at him from her stool set at the kitchen island. “Hi,” came Y/N’s greeting before Harry went to give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Morning,” Harry almost seemed to mumble as he grinned down at her before remembering the two weren’t alone, “you must be-”

“Magda,” the older woman rubbed her palms on the little apron Y/N had gifted her about a year previously, “so nice to meet you, Harry.”

“Thank you so much for having me,” Harry approached where the woman stood before extending his hand.

“Oh, it’s my pleasure,” Magda shook her head, “we love having new friends over and cooking for them. It’s such a nice way to show your appreciation for someone, you know?”

Y/N felt her cheeks burn as she knew Magda most likely meant nothing by the statement, but it somehow felt too intimate for Harry to know she appreciated him.

“Completely agree,” Harry nodded his head, still holding onto Magda’s hands.

“Oh, honey, you were right,” Magda called over her shoulder to a clueless Y/N.

“About what?” Y/N scrunched her nose.

“He does make you feel heard,” Magda actually giggled, making Y/N softly chuckle behind the two.

“She’s talking about me? What else has she said?” Harry raised his brows before smirking over at Y/N.

“Magda, did you see where I put the peppers?” Y/N pretended not to hear him as she feigned searching for what she had requested.

“Don’t want you thinking I’m only here to freeload your food. What can I do to help?” Harry turned back to meet Magda’s already adoring gaze.

“Y/N,” Magda gasped before turning to see Y/N’s confused features, “marry this man.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Y/N stated after her initial shock and embarrassment, “you two would be a much lovelier little couple.”

“Oh, hush,” Magda rolled her eyes as she pushed past Harry to grab a hold of the peppers Y/N had supposedly misplaced, “here are your precious missing peppers.”

In no time at all, Magda and Harry had finished making the maza. Magda made a big deal out of how big Harry’s hands were, saying that he was born to knead the dough-like substance that would carry the faux meat they made their tamales with. This, of course, had elicited a small anecdote of how Harry had once worked in a bakery when he was younger, back home. The two had then proceeded to bond over missing their respective homelands and it wasn’t long before Harry was inviting Magda over whenever she felt like a visit and vice versa.

“So, I’ve seen some with like... a different wrapper? Like paper, almost?” Harry furrowed his brows.

“Those are made with corn husks,” Y/N nodded her head as the three worked on loading the ingredients of a tamale into a banana leaf.

“Ah,” Harry seemed to nod in realization, “so how different will these taste? Will they taste like banana?”

“No,” Magda responded with a shake of her head, “it just makes it more... more...”

“Succulent?” Y/N voiced.

“Yes,” Magda nodded, “tender. I tend to think the corn husk tamales can get a little dry, so I like using the banana leaf to give it a little kick.”

“Huh,” Harry nodded, “how many are we shooting for?”

“A lot,” Magda laughed, “we’ll be here all day, lovey. We don’t expect you to hang around all day with us.”

“I don’t mind,” Harry shrugged with a little smile on his face.

“Well, be warned, this one likes making hundreds to give to the friendly... and not so friendly,” Magda grinned as she elbowed Y/N.

“Oh my gosh, don’t bring that up or he’ll never come back here, again,” Y/N tried to refrain her laughter.

“What? Why?” Harry furrowed his brows as he looked between the two laughing friends.

“Y/N likes to go around town to give some to people in need of a good meal,” Magda beamed over at her long time friend, “but this one time-”

“You can’t let this change the way you see San Francisco, though,” Y/N pleaded as she stopped her handwork to look over at an already amused Harry.

“No, of course, not! Harry’s a good boy; he wouldn’t think of it,” Magda shook her head before proceeding, “anyways, nothing bad has really come from it... except for this one time. This one man that was sleeping on the sidewalk and this one goes up to hand him a few tamales when he wakes up, screaming! He had a syringe in one of his hands and charged at her. So this one starts running, and he ended up chasing her to the car!”

“What?” Harry’s eyes bulged out of his skull upon hearing this tale, searching both the female’s features for some sort of validation.

“He couldn’t really run... so I wouldn’t say he chased me, exactly,” Y/N frowned.

“No, honey; he chased you,” Magda shook her head, “but, anyways, she’s not allowed to approach strangers alone, now. We have another good boy that accompanies us when we want to distribute these bad boys around town.”

“You still go?” Harry gaped, ignoring the tinge of jealousy that had bubbled up within him as he wondered who would accompany the two and if he thought the world of Y/N like he did.

“Oh, yeah,” Magda assuredly nodded.

“That’s wild,” Harry shook his head. It was another one of those moments. Another moment where he could feel his heart swell with an emotion he couldn't quite pinpoint for Y/N. He wanted to say it was admiration, because what else could it be after such a story. Somewhere deep inside, he knew better.

Harry had kept his promise, he had stayed pretty much all day. He had helped the two make enough tamales to last a lifetime, or in this case, enough to feed the entire city. When it came time to try them, Y/N had nervously told him it was okay if he didn’t like them while Magda assured him that he would love them and was right. He could not believe the texture and taste that he had earlier been wary about. Magda was insistent on replacing each tamale that he consumed, which had proven detrimental to his physical comfort. After about four, he started to feel pretty weighed down. Luckily, to wash it all down, Magda had made a pitcherful of Jamaica because she knew how much Y/N liked it. Harry’s features had brightened so much that it sent Magda into a fit of laughter at the mention of the beverage. It had been a nice little end to their day—to enjoy the labors of their hard work.

Magda had loaded a few dozen tamales into some cute little Tupperware with ducks on them and had instructed him on the ease of freezing the dish if he wanted to save them for a later date. He knew this wouldn’t be necessary, as he knew he would be attempting to act in Magda’s and Y/N’s image and distribute them. It was after Magda had hugged and kissed him on the cheek that he was led out to the front of the house by Y/N.

“Thank you for coming today,” he was met with Y/N’s sleepy smile as he turned from stepping through the front door and down a step, “hope we didn’t work you too hard.”

“Not at all,” Harry shook his head as he went to hug Y/N’s abdomen, “liked it. I think Magda may be the love of my life.”

“Mine, too,” Y/N’s smile deepened.

“You sure you don't want a ride home?” Harry inquired, pouting out his bottom lip the way she had a few nights previously.

“Nah,” Y/N shook her head with a shrug of her shoulders, “thank you. You know the offer still stands if you’re too tired to drive. Believe me, Magda will be more than happy to have you stay here tonight.”

“I think I’m okay,” Harry stated with a little nod of his head, “have to feed Matt’s cat.”

“Right,” Y/N shook her head, “forgot.”

“Get some sleep,” Harry pulled Y/N in to kiss the wrinkle between her brows away, “I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

All Y/N could do was nod in her tired state.

“Yeah?” Harry seemed to bump his body into her own to get a response.

“Yeah,” Y/N laughed.

“Good,” Harry dimpled with satisfaction before going to press his lips to Y/N’s.

+ + +

“What are you doing?” Came the voice on Y/N’s speaker. She had been thrown across her couch, making endless loops with some yarn and two knitting needles.

“Knitting, watching Princess Diaries, and mourning the death of my youth,” Y/N rambled, as she ended one row of stitches to look over at her television screen.

“Oy. The first or second one?” Harry questioned as Y/N went back to her stitches.

“The one with Chris Pine,” Y/N wiggled her brows to herself.

“Ooh, what a dreamboat,” Harry sang out, making Y/N laugh out.

“He is quite nice to look at,” Y/N commented with a sigh.

“I suppose—if you’re into that tall dark and handsome type,” Harry quickly snapped, Y/N’s brows furrowing. Was there a tinge of jealousy in his tone?

“I mean,” Y/N reasoned, “I guess I kinda am.”

“Well,” Harry cleared his throat, “just feel like you wouldn’t have much in common with him.”

“Why? I think we’d make a good match,” Y/N frowned as she paused her actions once more.

“He’s an old man! Already has salt n’pepper hair,” Harry rebuked.

“S’kinda hot, though,” Y/N shrugged to herself.

“You little weirdo. What are you doing this Saturday? Thought we could go get some dim sum,” Harry suggested.

“Eh,” Y/N sucked in her lips as she seriously considered canceling her plans to hang out with Harry, “I have a wedding thing this weekend. Starts on Thursday; s’one of those three day weddings with the bachelorette party, rehearsal dinner, yada yada yada.”

“Oh,” came a pause from Harry’s end, “that sounds fun. S’it in town?”

“No; it’s in L.A.,” Y/N explained, “are you free on Sunday?”

“Oh... yeah,” Harry’s tone sounded odd but she didn’t want to question it; she felt it too soon in their relationship (if you could even call it that) to inquire, “yeah, d’you wanna try something here?”

“Yeah, what would you recommend?” Y/N asked as she finished another row of stitches.

“There’s this great sushi place in Malibu, if you’re up for that,” Harry suggested, “or there’s a good Indian place around the corner.”

“Ooh, you said sushi and my mouth already started watering,” Y/N laughed.

“Sushi it is, then,” Harry chimed.

+ + +

Y/N had been pretty tuckered out as she sat at a little round table, alone, watching everybody around her seeming to be having the time of their lives. Her feet had started aching from the heels she had slipped into at the beginning of the day, her hair had long sagged in the deliberately messy bun she had styled her hair in, and her chest had expanded and collapsed pretty jaggedly as she caught her breath from her friend, Angie, twirling her around the dance floor. It was when she was laughing at the drunken groom trying to lead his bride in a simple turn that she noticed her phone light up her open clutch. Normally, she wouldn’t have checked the notification, but something told her it may be the boy she had been talking to as of late.

She had posted a photo much earlier of the bride placing her veil over Y/N as she was digging into her pasta entree, snapped by the same Angie that had been twirling her earlier. Y/N found Harry had reacted to the photo and sent a message.

That looks fucking amazing. How do you feel about pasta instead, tomorrow??

p.s. you look really pretty 

Y/N couldn’t help the huge smile that came across her features as she peered down at the message. She had been typing out a little response when somebody had plopped down next to her.

“What happened to no phones?” Alex, one of Y/N’s oldest companions narrowed his eyes at her.

“I’m just checking in on something,” Y/N laughed as she hastened typing out her message.

“Absolutely not,” Alex grabbed a hold of Y/N’s phone and tucked it in his pocket.

“Alex!” Y/N gasped as she plunged for the device.

“You're missing Michael trying to seduce Paul,” Alex nodded towards some of their friends laughing at a slightly tipsy male.

“What else is new?” Y/N rolled her eyes. “Last year he tried that with you and was horrified when you actually locked lips.”

“Somehow that boy forgets that I’m a raging homosexual every year, and I’m sick of it,” Alex shook his head, “I will give this back to you if you come shake what the good Lord gave you for an entire song.”

“Alex,” Y/N started before he gave her a glare.

“We haven’t danced one song together and you’ll be heading home soon, I know it,” Alex pouted.

“Okay,” Y/N gave in, knowing she could finish her message to Harry afterwards.

“C’mon, girl,” Alex reached out his hands for Y/N to take. She could only laugh as he led her over to the dance floor before he had dropped into a squat to one of the last notes of a Saweetie song before a salsa blasted over the speakers.

“Aw,” Alex groaned before he stood to his full height.

“You said,” Y/N began, more teasing, if anything.

“I know what I said,” Alex rolled his eyes as he proceeded to take Y/N’s hands, once more, before leading her into a turn. It wasn’t long before Michael, another companion, had whipped out his phone and had gone around tormenting people with his flash video recording. A few dancing couples had shoved their hands in front of the camera lens before he had approached Alex and Y/N. Alex had seen the camera pointed at them and had pulled Y/N to him before he had dipped Y/N and pulled her back up, before going to peck at Y/N’s lips. Y/N had thought nothing of the video as she laughed and went to hug Alex as he shouted something at Michael’s giggling features. The two had known each other for years and a peck here and there was the norm between the two companions. Y/N had not thought of any repercussion. She did not think there might have been a certain male laying in his bed, the glow of his phone’s screen illuminating his smiling features as he opened one of his friend’s Instagram stories to see the girl he had been talking to being pulled to some man’s chest before locking lips with him. She had not thought of how his little smile would fade as he kept tapping on the left side of his screen to replay the video—to replay the way she smiled and hugged onto the strange male’s body. No, Y/N hadn’t thought very much of how that might look.

+ + +

The next morning, Y/N was surprised to not hear from Harry. She had started getting ready, however, knowing Harry would eventually message her with an address, because he had promised to do so earlier that week. She had finished slipping on her shoes when she went to check her empty lock screen. The place they had settled on was about forty minutes away, and if she was to make the time they had initially agreed upon, she would have to leave any minute. She decided to send Harry the following:

Morning, sunshine! ☀️ We still meeting up for lunch?

She figured she could start on her journey. Even if Harry cancelled, which she didn’t foresee, she could just enjoy the drive, maybe get some coffee... She had been about fifteen minutes into her drive when her phone rang out. The message read out went something along the lines of:

Hey, something came up last minute. Can’t meet today, rain check?

Y/N couldn’t help but instantly feel a little blue as she responded.

Of course; hope everything is okay. Take care!

Harry did not respond to this message and Y/N thought it a little odd, but figured whatever had come up must have been important. Y/N had driven past Malibu and caught sight of a cafe on her way back. She figured she deserved a treat and had decided to pull in for some coffee and maybe dessert if they had anything good. She had been quickly seated and had been browsing the small menu when the sound of another party was alerted with the ding of the bell attached to the front door. Y/N had looked up out of habit and had thought nothing of the couple that had entered before she glanced back at the menu before realizing why one of them had looked so familiar. Trailing behind a pretty looking woman was the person she had originally had plans with that morning—one Mr. Harry Styles. Y/N hastily went to raise her menu to cover her face, praying that he hadn’t seen her. She couldn’t help but peek over the top of the menu as she watched the two follow a waiter to the outdoor seating just in front of her. Of all the coincidental instances she had encountered in her life, she couldn’t think of one more embarrassing than the one she sat in. Her shock and horror had slowly started to morph into discontent as she watched the two speak. It was clear that the female had more than platonic interests in Harry by the way she leaned forward, hanging onto every word that came from his lips... the same ones that had been pressed to hers not that long ago. She could not believe her eyes, and she suddenly felt as if she was going to be ill.

“Good morning! How are you?” Y/N’s view of Harry and his companion was suddenly interrupted by a tall woman that had stepped in front of Y/N’s seat.

“Oh, eh,” Y/N glanced at the menu, wondering how rude it would be to excuse herself. She had considered staying and watching the two, but she felt that would be an enormous invasion of Harry’s privacy... that and she couldn’t stand the idea of him seeing her—alone, at that. “I’m so sorry, I... I have to go.”

“Oh,” the waitress stepped back as she watched Y/N collect her things, “is anything wrong?”

“You have no idea,” Y/N sent a glance out to the terrace where Harry sat intently watching his companion speak, “s’nothing, sorry, thank you so much for your time and help.”

+ + +

Y/N hadn’t been back to the house she had been staying at for very long. She had arrived and had marched straight to the living room where she allowed herself to plop down to lay on the carpeted floor. As she stared up at the ceiling, she wondered why such a string of events had bothered her so much. She told herself again and again how she wasn’t jealous but peeved at the principle of canceling on her to see someone else... but she knew the green eyed monster was involved. She had absolutely no right to be jealous. She and Harry had just met, and he was allowed to see other people if he wanted to. It wasn’t as if she had committed to only seeing him, either. Nobody had asked her, but she was free to see other people. Oh, but she couldn’t get over how much she hurt over seeing him with someone else. It was something different to know he was seeing other people, but to actually see it? She felt positively icky. She had grabbed her phone in attempt to distract herself when she noticed a message that had been delivered a little while ago, most likely a few minutes after leaving the cafe.

Was that you?

She chewed the inside of her cheek as she stared at the message from the person that had been tying her stomach in knots. She locked her phone and laid the phone on her abdomen, not knowing if she wanted to reply. She almost never wanted to speak to him, again... but she knew she had no valid reason for it.

Where?

She had decided to play ignorant, as she wished he would leave her alone; at least for the time being. Didn’t he have that woman to entertain himself with?

Are you still in town? Fancy a visit?

Y/N couldn’t muster the energy for a visit. She couldn’t imagine how she could possibly refrain from asking who he had been with. So, she did something she wouldn’t normally do.

Did whoever came up get resolved? I’m actually heading back home today and I need to pack 😕 rain check?

Y/N wasn’t one to be petty or passive aggressive, but something about the situation had just rubbed her the wrong way. She had almost hoped that perhaps her message had deterred Harry’s friendship, and that she would never see him again. She wasn’t surprised when she did not receive a reply from the male and had went about her day, just a little bit more melancholy than she usually would have been leaving town.

+ + +

A few months had come and gone, and Harry would have liked to say that Y/N had become a distant memory, but that was nowhere near the case. He thought more about her than he would like to admit. He knew he had struck a nerve when he had gotten her last message, and had become slightly infuriated by it. How could she have been so snappy when he had been the one to reach out after she had been out locking lips with some random bloke? Sure, she had seen him out with one of the women that his friends had been trying to set him up with, but he had asked to see her, damn it. Wasn’t that enough of a gesture? He had been out with a few different people since, in attempts to forget the female, but it was all to no avail. How could anybody compare to the strange little person he had eaten so much food with on a rooftop all that time ago?

Nevertheless, he had continued seeing her in his friends’ posts. She looked good, as usual. Something so simply classic about the clothes she wore and her disposition in each snapshot. He had noticed in the past that she would never pose smiling, but as of late, she had smiled in almost all the photos he saw of her. He wasn’t sure why such a small detail had resonated with him. She had cut her hair and lightened it since the last time he had seen her. He wanted to believe she had done so because of him. He had read something about women changing their hair after meaningful relationships, but he didn’t want to flatter himself. It had been when he had been visiting an old friend and sipping on a glass of sauvignon blanc—it hadn’t been that good if he was being honest—that his friend had really thrown him for a loop.

“Have you seen this?” Andrew nodded at the title of the film he had landed on. Harry usually never had his phone out when visiting good friends, but he had been waiting on a message from his sister. He had looked up from his messages to find, to his surprise, Y/N’s face staring back at him.

“S’this new?” Harry mumbled, still staring at Y/N’s features. She had been looking straight into the camera when the photo had been taken, and from the look of her surroundings, it looked like some sort of 60s mystery film.

“Says it was released this year,” Andrew shrugged, “don’t you know her or something?”

“Not really,” Harry cleared his throat, “looks stupid.”

“Stupid?” Andrew furrowed his brows at Harry.

“What?” Harry glared over at him.

“Don’t think I’ve ever heard you use that word,” Andrew grinned.

“Well, it does, doesn’t it?” Harry nervously laughed, feeling a tinge of guilt creep over him.

“S’got that guy from X-Men in it... Think she looks nice,” Andrew shrugged as he took a drink from his glass, “wouldn’t mind if I made a pass?”

“A pass,” Harry scrunched his nose, “won’t get very far with that kind of thinking.”

“Alright, mate,” Andrew rolled his eyes as he continued scrolling through the streaming service, “I get it.”

“Well, there’s nothing to get,” Harry shook his head, “didn’t mean anything by it; go for it.”

+ + +

“Magda?” Y/N had called from the older woman’s kitchen. She had let herself in with the key that Magda had made for her and had worried when she could’t find the lady on the lower level of her home. “M’up here, lovey,” Magda hollered from the second floor of her home.

“Sorry, m’late,” Y/N vocalized as she treaded up the stairs before finding Magda sat on the floor, kneeled atop a gargantuan white canvas with paint splatters here and there. There was the outline of a young woman’s face ever so slightly traced out from what Y/N could see.

“No, no, honey! You're fine,” Magda shook her head as she looked up from the piece, making Y/N smile at some stray smeared paint across the older woman’s forehead, “eh... the books are over there on that chair over there, if you want to take ‘em today.”

“Oh, thanks,” Y/N glanced over her shoulder before going to look back at the painting, “this is huge.”

“Uh, yeah,” Magda seemed to nervously chuckle as she wiped her hands on her overalls. Y/N noticed the elder was avoiding making eye contact with her as she kept looking down at the painting or at her hands.

“Who’s it for? You never do projects this big unless someone’s hanging it in the Guggenheim or donating a pretty penny,” Y/N commented as she walked around the canvas edges to get to the chair Magda had pointed out earlier. All Magda could do was offer another nervous chuckle as she went to push some straggle hairs from her face. Y/N could sense the awkward air between her and the woman she came to trust like she trusted her own mother.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to pry,” Y/N shook her head, feeling her cheeks burn out of an embarrassment she couldn’t pinpoint.

“No,” Magda went to shake her own head as she let out a heavy sigh, “no. You’re not prying, honey. I’m the one that’s making the situation awkward... Um... It’s... it’s for Harry.”

Y/N could not find words at the mention of his name. She didn’t know why she felt so bothered... so betrayed. There was no reason that Magda could not speak to Harry. She really didn’t even know the circumstances surrounding Y/N’s broken communication with him. All Magda knew was that they weren’t speaking, and Y/N knew it was silly to feel so deeply about her contact with the person that had wounded her pride a while back... but Magda was family. Shouldn’t that count for something? Y/N sure wouldn’t be friendly with somebody Magda had shunned, which would be impossible because Magda didn’t believe in holding grudges.

“Oh,” Y/N finally choked out, nodding her head as she broke eye contact with Magda to pick up the books that had been set on the chair she had been earlier directed towards.

“If this bothers you, honey,” Magda began.

“No,” Y/N shook her head, rolling her eyes up to the ceiling as she sighed out, “it doesn’t. I’m being silly.”

“It’s just... he came by last week to make tamales,” Magda began, making Y/N’s head jerk up to meet her gaze, “he said he knew you were taking that trip and wanted to ensure that we didn’t break tradition. And he got a glance of some of the work I did when I was younger and he begged for me to make him something and that he’d pay whatever I asked, and I said I would do it if he donated to this stem cell research fund I’ve been working with, and he said he’d be thrilled, and I just couldn’t say no to such a generous donation and-”

“You don’t have to... justify it,” Y/N shook her head, “I’m sorry. I... I’m just being... childish, and... I guess I’m still sore at him for being so... I don’t know. I’m just happy you got such a big donation.”

“Look, he didn’t tell me what happened,” Magda shrugged her shoulders after a pause came between them, “but whatever it was... he’s moved past it.”

“That’s good,” Y/N tightly smiled as she opened the book that was on the top of the stack.

“If you don’t want me to do it,” Magda offered before Y/N shook her head once more.

“Do it,” Y/N nodded, “please. Don’t pay any attention to me; I’m just being... it doesn’t matter. I think you should do it.”

“Are you sure?” Magda pressed, her eyes searching for her answer in Y/N’s eyes.

“Of course,” Y/N nodded.

+ + +

Y/N had had a few. She wasn’t stumbling or slurring her words, but she was feeling quite toasty. She had been invited to some party, some celebration for someone she didn’t know and had been delighted for some excuse to get all gussied up and have drinks with some friends... Friends that had disappeared about thirty minutes after their first drink, but that was no worry. Y/N had soon found some drunken girl that had globbed onto her after claiming she looked better than Naomi Campbell did on the 1995 Chanel spring runway. It hadn’t taken too long for the two to find a permanent dancing partner in each other as the two had clasped hands as they sang along to almost all the songs that had blasted over the speakers. They had just finished shouting lyrics to one another before the girl yelled something about having to go back to her friends.

“You should come with me, I have this really cute friend who’s single and ready to fuck whoever crosses his path,” Glenda, Y/N’s new drunken friend, droned.

“Okay, but food first! I’m starved! You want anything?” Y/N yelled over the music before Glenda asked for a shot before pointing to where a group of her friends were sat. Y/N didn’t think much as she loaded her plate with the cucumber salad she had been eyeing all night. There hadn’t been too much food for her, most all dishes had featured some animal product, but she wasn’t one to complain too much about it. She debated whether she should make her way back to the table she had originally been sat at to see if any of her friends were there, but she liked meeting new people and had a strange goal for taking the opportunity to make new friends. So, she had forced herself over to where the girl had plopped down, Glenda’s eyes lighting up at the sight of the shot glass in Y/N’s other hand.

“Thanks, girl!” Glenda beamed as Y/N handed her the glass.

“How’s the cucumber salad?” Came a familiar tone from the other side of the table. Y/N wished she had just gone to sit alone at the table she had originally been sat at, even if that meant she would be alone.

“Hey, Harry,” Y/N smiled as she shoveled a fork full of cucumber into her mouth.

“This is my friend I was telling you about,” Glenda grabbed at Y/N’s arm with excitement, wiggling her eyebrows, suggestively.

“Ah,” Y/N laughed, remembering Glenda’s words about her cute, promiscuous friend.

“What were you telling her?” Harry’s words were drowned out by the man next to him rising to make his way over to where Y/N had been.

“M’Andrew,” the man stuck his hand out for Y/N to take.

“Nice to meet you,” Y/N smiled as she juggled to hold her cucumber salad bowl in one hand and shake the male’s with her other, “Y/N.”

“We were just talking about you the other day,” Andrew leaned closer to Y/N’s ear.

“Really? Why?” Y/N furrowed her brows.

“Your movie came up while we were browsing on Netflix,” Andrew smiled, “and Harry, here, had nothing but good things to say about you.”

“That’s nice,” Y/N smiled at Harry before turning back to speak to the male that had approached her.

Harry couldn’t believe his eyes. He had legitimately thought Andrew was kidding that day; he didn’t think he would have to sit and watch his friend talk up the girl that he had been so invested in a few months previously. He did tell him to “go for it,” but it still felt wrong. He hated the way she smiled at him and seemed to tune out everyone else to pay attention to what he had to say. Harry knew Andrew, he didn’t have much interesting to say. He hated how sour his mood had suddenly become as he watched them over the rim of the glass he had raised to his lips. He knew it was unhealthy, but he couldn’t help but to start comparing himself to Andrew. He was a little taller than he was, but wasn’t that nice... He had to refrain his jaw from dropping as Andrew extended his open palm for Y/N to take before Andrew led her to the dance floor. He had lost visual on them and he couldn’t help what happened next.

“Glenda,” Harry seemed to bark.

“Yeah?” She innocently responded, furrowing her brows at Harry’s fixated features. He had nodded towards the crowd of people dancing, causing Glenda to squeal with delight. None of their friends had danced with her all night, or had danced, period. Harry didn’t get why they would go to a party just to sit and try to talk over loud music, as he usually enjoyed dancing around a few bodies after a few drinks and had even taken Glenda out a for a few songs, but he had lost interest pretty quickly on the dance floor as a pretty girl had been sat back with his friends. In any event, it was with great force that Glenda had pulled his arm as she led him to the dance floor where a bunch of bodies had been dancing to a Drake song. It was coincidental that Glenda had led him to where Y/N and Andrew had been dancing. Y/N had noticed him, but Harry acted the ignorant. He couldn’t help but become distracted by Glenda when she had started spanking him before he turned to dance along to the music with her. It was a bit hard for Harry to watch what was happening with Y/N and Andrew as they had been dancing behind him. He had tried turning Glenda so that he could get a better view, but it had not worked as she would shimmy back to their original positions. He would occasionally make a big show of making a turn, but it was more purposeful than anybody could really know. A song Harry didn’t recognize came on and Glenda screamed and pointed behind Harry, at who he had assumed was Y/N. Harry hoped to God he wouldn’t turn around to see anything too jarring between her and Andrew; he didn’t think he could handle that. Thankfully, though, Glenda had pushed past him as she went to grind on Y/N’s tummy, making him laugh as Y/N had raised her bowl and kept eating her cucumber salad and allowing Glenda to keep grinding on her. If Y/N hadn't been involved, Harry might have gone back to the table and people watched. However, Y/N was involved, and she was giggly and cute, and he had missed her. So, he stayed and danced alongside Andrew before Glenda stopped grinding her rear on Y/N and turned to look at Harry, a grin playing at her features. He knew she would try to do the same to him, and he couldn’t have that in front of Y/N. So, he took the initiative to turn and rub his back on Glenda, earning a few cat calls from her as she grabbed a hold of his hips and tried to shake them. All Harry could do was laugh as he turned back around to grab her hands so he could turn her.

“Wait, I’m gonna puke!” Glenda sobbed as she grabbed on Harry’s forearm.

“Oh, no,” Harry frowned as his arm slipped around her back, trying to support her as her fist went to her mouth.

“I’ll take care of it,” Andrew rolled his eyes as he grabbed a hold of Harry’s shoulder as he spoke into his ear, “this one hasn’t stopped looking at you.”

“Maybe I should take her,” Y/N yelled, as she went to grab at Glenda.

“No, s’okay! You stay and dance with Harry,” Andrew shouted as he took a hold of a woozy Glenda.

“It’s fine, I can take her,” Y/N shook her head.

“I’m gonna take her outside for some fresh air,” Andrew explained. Y/N looked over at Harry, and he somehow knew she was worried about Glenda’s safety with the male she had just met. Harry knew even with his reassurance, Y/N would still have been worried.

“I’ll take her, s’fine,” Harry yelled as he grabbed a hold of Glenda’s arm and started for the door.

“M’sorry,” Glenda continually apologized as the two made their way out of the building.

“S’okay,” Harry rubbed at the female’s back as the two stepped out into the breezy night air. It wasn’t long before Glenda had retched into a nearby shrub, Harry holding her hair for her as he tried not to look at the sick coming out of her mouth.

“Oh, good!” Came a voice from behind him, making him look over to see Y/N hurrying toward them with Abby, one of the friends he had been sat with.

“I’ll take her home,” Abby sighed once the two met Harry, “I’m tired, anyways.”

“Glenda, I have your jumper,” Y/N commented as she held out the sweater in front of her, “ooh, s’cute.”

“Thanks,” Glenda laughed as she stood to her full height, fisting the corner of her mouth before Y/N helped her into the piece of clothing.

“C’mon, Glen,” Abby rolled her eyes as Harry passed Glenda to Abby.

“Can you get her to the car?” Y/N doubtfully asked.

“Oh, absolutely,” Abbie nodded, “this happens every weekend. I would have a gold medal if it was a sport in the Olympics.” “Oh, okay, then,” Y/N smiled as she rubbed Glenda’s arm, “s’nice meeting you.”

“You too, girl,” Glenda lazily smiled, “did I get any puke on you this time, Abby?”

“No,” Abby sighed as she looked down at her heels, “not yet.”

“You okay to drive?” Harry inquired.

“I’ve been dry for a year, now,” Abby furrowed her brows at Harry.

“S’right, sorry,” Harry shook his head, wearily.

“S’alright. Well, was nice meeting you, Y/N. We’ll do this again, yeah? Well, hopefully not the whole puking thing,” Abby laughed.

“Of course,” Y/N smiled as her fingers went to tuck her hair behind her ear, Abby and Glenda turning to make their way to their car.

“You two have a good night,” Abby sang before continuing to lead Glenda to her car. 

There came a moment where Harry and Y/N stood still, Y/N watching Glenda and Abby as Harry watched Y/N. After watching her sigh, Harry had been caught staring as she turned to look up at him.

“What?” She innocently questioned.

“You hungry?” He asked, his mouth only slightly smiling at her.

+ + +

“Here ya go,” a tall brunette waiter had set two waters and laminated menus on the table Harry and Y/N had been seated at before turning on his heel to leave the two.

“How’d you know about this place?” Harry asked as he picked up one of the menus and glanced over the options.

“Oh, uh, my dad and I used to come here every year for one of his work meetings,” Y/N answered.

“For his work meetings?” Harry’s brows pressed towards his hairline.

“Yeah; he was in this like... society of engineers... Basically a bunch of geeks getting together every few months to talk about quantum physics or something along those lines... We’d always get in so late on the first day and we’d be starving, but there were never a lot of places open. This place always was, though,” Y/N smiled as she looked around the room, “we would never run out of conversation here, even though we had spent the entire day in silence on the way up here. S’weird. Haven’t been here in a while.”

“Why not? Does your father live far away? You don’t bring him here anymore?” Harry innocently asked.

“It’d be kind of hard for him since he’s passed away,” Y/N smiled. If it had been anyone else, Harry would have thought the comment a bit snippy. For some reason, he felt she was trying to make a joke of it. For his sake; he didn’t know.

“Oh, m’sorry,” Harry offered his condolences before being met by a short pause.

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it to come out like that,” Y/N’s smile softened before she shook her head and went to look at the menu to change the subject, “they have excellent spring rolls here.”

“Sorry to say it, but I can’t stand them,” Harry narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips.

“Oh, me, either,” Y/N laughed as she put her menu down, “I ate too many once and threw them up. I can’t eat them, but I appreciate them.”

“Ah, that’s valid. I just hate basil,” Harry shrugged as he stole another glance at her. He felt nervous, all of a sudden. He hadn’t felt nervous on the drive over, or when Y/N had to scoot closer to him while waiting to be seated because the entrance was small and a couple needed more space to exit the establishment. He hadn't been nervous when he got the chance to catch a whiff of her hair to find though she changed her hair, she still used the shampoo that left it smelling so nice. “You’ve changed your hair.”

“Hm? Oh,” Y/N pursed her lips as her palms went to flatten her hair, “yeah... it looks weird.”

“I like it,” Harry commented, without looking up from his menu.

“These bangs are a bit much,” Y/N sighed out as she allowed her elbows onto the edge of the table, her chin going to rest in the palm of her hand.

“I think it looks great,” Harry furrowed his brows.

“M’not... fishing for compliments or anything,” Y/N shook her head.

“Know that,” Harry nodded, “just think you look really good.”

“Oh,” Y/N’s lips barely smiled, “thanks.”

“What else do you recommend, because everything looks good to a person that hasn’t eaten since breakfast,” Harry sighed.

“Their burger’s scrummy,” Y/N suggested, “you can get either fries or these really great avocado fries... they also have this amazing pad thai.”

“Pad thai and burgers? Am I wrong to be a little nervous?” Harry looked up at Y/N, doubtfully.

“I mean, yeah,” Y/N laughed before shrugging her shoulders, “but I think great things come from things that make you nervous.”

“Alright, alright,” Harry sucked in his lips, “but if it’s not, you owe me another dinner date.”

“Oh, this isn’t a dinner date,” Y/N shook her head.

“It isn’t?” Harry questioned from behind his menu.

“No, at least, not like that,” Y/N shook her head as she went to sip from the water that had been set before them earlier.

“Like what?” Harry cocked his head at Y/N.

“You know,” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“No, I don’t know. Clue me in,” Harry stated before grabbing his own glass and sipping water from it. For some reason, Y/N could not take the way he peered at her over the rim of his glass and had to break eye contact—such an innocent thing felt much too intimate.

“Never mind,” Y/N shook her head.

“No, now I want to know,” Harry smirked, “now that I think about it, Andrew did say something about you not being able to take your eyes off of me tonight.”

“Oh, did he?” Y/N’s brows rose, her lips curling into a smile.

“I mean, my arse does look really good in these pants,” Harry spoke before shaking his head and bursting into laughter, “please forget that I said that.”

“No,” Y/N laughed, “that will live rent free in my mind forever.”

“Fine with me,” Harry calmed from his fit of laughter, “so long as you tell me what you meant before.”

The two were interrupted when the handsome waiter from before came by to take their order. Harry fought the jealousy that started creeping in when the waiter started blatantly flirting with Y/N in front of him. He had no right to be jealous about someone that didn’t belong to him. It wasn’t long before he had finally left them with one last "my dear” being thrown at Y/N.

“So?” Harry pressed. “What?” Y/N asked out of confusion as to what Harry was referring to.

“What’d you mean? Why isn’t this a date?” Harry questioned.

“Oh, sorry to disappoint, but that topic is closed, my friend,” Y/N emphasized, hoping he would get the hint.

“Friend?” Harry’s teasing mood turned somber.

“Yeah,” Y/N nodded, trying to hide her own disappointment.

“Alright, then,” Harry sighed in defeat as he twiddled his fingers, “how’d you know Glenda?”

“I don’t,” Y/N shook her head as she looked up from her clasped hands before her.

“Then how,” Harry trailed off, his brows pinched together.

“We only just met tonight,” Y/N explained.

“Huh,” Harry voiced with a slow nod of his head, “so, what’d she tell you about me?”

“Why’d you wanna know?” Y/N knowingly grinned and Harry knew he was done for.

“Dunno,” Harry shrugged as his gaze dropped back down to his glass, “was just curious.”

“Alright, then,” Y/N sighed, looking up to the ceiling as if doing so would help her recall what Glenda had said any better, “said you were really cute.”

“That’s not so bad,” Harry breathed out a sigh.

“You sound relieved,” Y/N commented, narrowing her eyes at the male.

“Do I?” Harry innocently questioned.

“Yeah,” Y/N nodded.

“Hm,” Harry’s brows rose and fell as he went to take another drink from his water.

“’Course she also told me you were ready to fuck whoever crossed your path,” Y/N nonchalantly spoke, resulting in Harry choking on his sip of water. Y/N couldn’t help but laugh out as she reached for a napkin to hand him.

“She did no such thing,” Harry’s response was muffled as he wiped his mouth.

“I know what I heard,” Y/N spoke with a nod of her head, “and she specifically said-”

“I got it the first time, thanks,” Harry interrupted, his skin turning crimson red.

“Oh, there’s no shame in it,” Y/N rolled her eyes, “must be fun.”

“M’not like that, usually... you know that,” Harry furrowed his brows.

“Yeah,” Y/N’s laughter softened, “also said you were single.”

“What happened to friends, huh?” Harry grinned.

“I,” Y/N’s jaw dropped before laughing out, “I was just saying. I was trying to distract from your embarrassing ass comment.”

“Uh huh, okay. Sure,” Harry narrowed his eyes at Y/N, “what about Andrew?”

“What about him?” Y/N’s laughter converted into a small smile as she looked at her finger running across the table.

“What’d you think of him?” Harry was met by a shrug from Y/N. “Don’t seem too impressed.”

“He’s nice, but I didn’t really get to talk to him that much,” Y/N explained.

“Ah,” Harry nodded, “well, don’t think you’d like him very much for too long.”

“Why?” Y/N questioned, furrowing her brows.

“He’s no good at it,” Harry shrugged, nonchalantly.

“At what?” Y/N inquired, still clueless.

“At crocheting scarves for his nan, what else?” Harry rolled his eyes, Y/N still not understanding. “At it, Y/N.”

“Oh,” Y/N finally seemed to understand as her furrowed brows softened before her features scrunched up once more, “oh. Well, that’s crap. He’s kinda cute.”

“Well,” Harry shook his head, “all I’ve heard are complaints.”

“Unless you’ve bedded him, I don’t think you have the right to say,” Y/N cocked her head at Harry.

“Who says I haven’t?” Harry questioned.

“Mm, I don’t see him being your type,” Y/N scrunched her nose.

“My type? Who’d you think my type is?” Harry asked, hoping she would say something along the lines of herself.

“Hm,” Y/N closed one eye as the other looked up, “either a real man’s man, like a logger or something... or an old, handsome sugar daddy type.”

Harry couldn’t help the laugh that had come from his belly at her words.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” Y/N smiled, knowingly.

+ + +

It hadn’t been too late by the time Y/N had trudged through her front door, Harry trailing behind. She was happy to be home. Even with the short amount of time she was away, she missed her little home and the scent of potpourri mixed with the remnant aroma of that one Apple Toddy candle that never seemed to burn out. She had dropped her bag on the little bench she had by the door before bending over to undo the straps of her shoes.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Y/N spoke as she peered up at Harry to find him taking in his surroundings.

“Thanks,” Harry smiled as he looked down to see her pull off her heels and throw them beneath the little bench she had stopped by. After finishing his meal and having to voice how much he liked it to a knowing Y/N, Y/N had asked where Harry was staying. He had said he was staying at a friend’s house over an hour away, and Y/N couldn’t let him drive such a long distance so late in the night. It didn’t have to take much convincing for Harry to accept the offer, as he had wondered what the inside of her home looked like ever since dropping her off so many nights previously. 

“Lucky for you,” Y/N sighed out as she walked up the stairs that led to the main level of the home, “I bought a pajama set that was grossly mislabeled online; I think it’d fit you just fine!”

“Okay,” Harry laughed as he wondered where to put his shoes. She had tossed hers underneath that little bench, but there was a door to the side, which he assumed was a closet.

“What’s wrong?” Y/N asked from above.

“Eh,” Harry cleared his throat, “s’it matter where I put m’shoes?”

“Oh, no,” Y/N shook her head, “wherever’s fine.”

“Okay,” Harry said under his breath as Y/N disappeared out of sight. As Harry treaded up the steep stairs to the upper level, he was overwhelmed with the scent of cinnamon... maybe vanilla. He had smelled something wonderful upon entering her home, but it became much more warmer and sweeter when he stepped foot on the last step. He instantly thought he liked the layout of the small little home. Off to his right, there was a little living room that led out through siding doors onto a spectacular little balcony with a view of the city’s night lights twinkling in the distance. Straight ahead seemed to be a dark kitchen. To his left, a hallway was illuminated by a few plug in night lights. He thought better than to invite himself into her bedroom and had furthered into the living room. He had been peering down at a rug that he wished he could rub his bare toes against when nearing footsteps had made him turn to see Y/N approaching him.

“They’ve been tucked away for a while, but,” Y/N voiced as she looked up from the pajamas she held. Harry wondered why she had stopped in her tracks while Y/N thought how surreal it was to see Harry stood in the middle of her living room, toeing at the rug she had just purchased. “They should be pretty comfortable... at least it felt soft when I last tried it on.”

“Thanks,” Harry smiled as he approached her, his hands going to take the pajamas from her hands. It was when he noticed her looking intently at his face that he worried something was wrong. Had she suddenly felt uncomfortable with him in her house? God, he hoped he didn’t make her feel uncomfortable. “S’everything alright?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah,” Y/N spoke softly as she seemed to snap out of whatever trance she had been in, “sorry.”

“What for?” Harry’s eyes seemed to search her own for the answer.

“I don’t know,” she smiled and shook her head. Her senses were suddenly overcrowded by what she assumed was his cologne—something between vanilla and ginger.

“Where can I change?” Harry asked as he looked behind her, towards the hallway she had come from.

“Uh,” Y/N shook her head once more, trying to regain her focus, “first door on the left.”

“Alright, thanks,” Harry smiled as his finger tips went to brush at her hand. The simple touch seemed to stay constant even when he passed her to retreat into the room she had instructed him to. She wondered if maybe he would just stay in her spare bedroom after changing into the pajamas she had provided. She padded into her kitchen to pour a glass of water as she looked out into the sea of yellow dots through her kitchen window. She had been slowly sipping on the liquid when she heard Harry approach her.

“Sleepy?” Harry asked as he lingered in the threshold separating the kitchen from the other rooms.

“Not really,” she lied.

+ + +

“Who’s Fabio?” Harry asked, pulling out another one of Y/N’s vinyls from the stand that also held her record player. Y/N had been laid out on the couch, her legs thrown up, over the side as she threw her head back to see what Harry had been talking about.

“That’s Antonio Solis, you boob,” Y/N gasped as she flipped over to her belly.

“Who’s he?” Harry scrunched his nose as he turned the record cover back around to take a better look.

“He’s, like, a totally famous artist,” Y/N explained, “well, he was in a really famous band—that’s them. The Bukis.”

“What does that mean in Spanish?” Harry asked, looking up from his place seated on top of a throw blanket Y/N had tossed to him so that he wouldn’t have to sit directly on her cold, hard wood floor.

“I don’t really know,” Y/N furrowed her brows, “I don’t know if it means anything, actually.”

“Are they any good?” Harry inquired, raising the record.

“They’re famous for a reason, Harry,” Y/N teased, “you can put it on, if you want.”

“What’s your favorite side?” Harry asked as he rose to his knees. They had first  listened to a man named Joao Gilberto who Y/N had marveled at him for not knowing. He was able to recognize one song as “that song they always play in the elevator,” which had caused Y/N to gasp out in horror before laughing out one of those laughs he had missed so much. The kind that wasn’t inhibited by self-consciousness or restraint. It was goofy, but so endearing, somehow. Then, Harry had recognized a Van Morrison album and had replaced the record. They had listened to a few more as Harry read out some of the record’s liner notes.

“B,” Y/N responded, resting her chin on her crossed arms before her. It still hadn’t set in as she watched Harry struggled to remove the previous record and replace it with the new one. The way his fingers moved did something for her. She wasn’t sure if it was the sight of his bigger hands doing something her smaller ones usually did or if it was the nice contrast of his sun kissed skin to his various colored rings on each of his knuckles. Y/N hated the other odd string of thoughts that ran through her mind. All she could think of was if she had been murdered a few months previously, investigators would not have found Harry Styles’ prints in her home... What in God’s name compelled her to think such morbid thoughts? She continued to watch as Harry released the needle and sat back on his heels, listening to the first few notes of a song she remembered from her childhood.

“Groovy,” Harry commented after a few lyrics passed before he started dancing, pretty goofily if Y/N had any say in it. He had struggled to push up to his full height as he started dancing towards Y/N reaching out his hands for her to grab. She hesitated, knowing full well how dancing with this little foolish boy would affect her once again. She couldn’t help herself, though, as behind her speculative gaze there was nothing but admiration. She had reached her hand out and had been pulled from her couch to dance around her living room quiet sloppily.

“What are they saying?” Harry asked as he went to turn her.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh as the two continued to listen to the song.

“What?” Harry asked.

“Eh... he’s saying how he fell in love with someone while they were dancing,” Y/N shook her head, “as much as it may seem, I’m not trying to say anything, here.”

“Shame,” Harry raised his brows before he suddenly stopped dancing with Y/N. She was left standing in the middle of her living room as she watched Harry walk over to kneel before her record player. His hands had stopped the record and taken it from the record player.

“What?” Y/N asked, furrowing her brows as she set her fists on her hips.

“S’nothing,” Harry shook his head.

“Yeah?” Y/N pressed.

“S’really nothing,” Harry sighed.

A few awkward moments passed between the two before Harry turned to peer over at Y/N, 

“Why’d you chat me up all those months ago just to go plant one on somebody else on an Instagram story?” Harry asked, the hurt showing on his somber expression.

“What?” Y/N huffed in disbelief. He must have been out of his wits drunk.

“So you’re denying it?” Harry narrowed his eyes at Y/N.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Y/N offered, “when did this happen?”

“At that one wedding,” Harry explained. It took Y/N a moment before she remembered what Harry had perceived to be a risky moment between her and a young man.

“Are you talking about Alex?” Y/N couldn’t help the laughter that came with such a question.

“I... I don’t know. He was tall and you were dancing, and he,” Harry started before Y/N shook her head at him.

“He’s a very good friend,” Y/N stated, “nothing more.”

“Hm,” Harry still did not look convinced.

“He’s also finds men very attractive,” Y/N added.

“Ah,” Harry’s features showed his embarrassment as his tone turned slightly red, “I feel very foolish, all of a sudden.”

“Jumping to conclusions’ll do that to you,” Y/N shrugged before a pillow was thrown her way.

“You hurt my damn feelings,” Harry laughed as his hands went to cover his face.

“Why?” Y/N huffed to which Harry raised his head to look at her in bewilderment.

“I knew it,” Harry gaped.

“What?” Y/N’s brows pinched together.

“You’re an alien from Mars,” Harry nodded.

“What?” Y/N scrunched her nose at him.

“You act as if nobody has ever taken an interest in you,” Harry shook his head in bewilderment at Y/N.

“Oh, God. Well, I’m not very good at these things; if you haven’t noticed. I tend to read things wrong and make too much of things, and overcomplicate them, and then things inevitably get awkward,” Y/N suddenly stopped speaking, “I’m rambling... sorry... I’m sorry I made you feel so badly.”

“Me, too,” Harry voiced and it wasn't long before Y/N got up to pad over to where Harry had been sat to kneel in front of him. Her hands showed hesitation before they went to grab a hold of either side of his face and he couldn’t help but melt into her touch.

“Hi,” she almost seemed to whisper, her teeth going to bite at her bottom lip as she smiled at him.

“Hi,” he lowly responded, sleepily smiling back at her. Being at this proximity, Harry thought her eyes seemed to go on forever. There was a little glint to them, and he swore some film director out there somewhere was looking for someone with eyes half as breathtaking as hers.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N repeated but Harry could only shrug his shoulders in response as the scent of her perfume wafting through his nostrils. God, she smelled so nice.

“Would you mind terribly if I did something?” She continued to speak softly.

“Hey,” Harry pouted, “s’my line.”

Y/N’s smile deepened before Harry pushed forward to kiss her lips. Harry couldn’t help it as his arms went to encircle her torso, her elbows going to rest on his shoulders. Harry thought his heart would come up into her mouth, it was beating so hard and so fast. If it weren’t so creepy, he wanted so badly to open his eyes to see her in that exact moment—to see if she was just as in love with kissing his lips as he was with hers. He wanted her closer but didn’t know how to ask for more contact. With others, it had all come so naturally. With Y/N... well, she was different. All of a sudden, he didn’t want to rush things and he didn’t know how much he could take of her soft lips caressing his own.

“D’ya want this?” Harry couldn’t help but ask. All Y/N did was hum a response and Harry moved his head so that Y/N could nip down the side of his neck, sending chills down his entire being.

“Baby,” Harry mumbled into Y/N’s hair as he forced his eyes open, kissing the side of her head, “answer me?”

“What?” Y/N hesitantly pulled away.

“I mean,” Harry puffed out a sigh, “is this... are we going too fast?”

“Too fast?” Y/N’s brows raised out of confusion.

“Yeah,” Harry trailed as he tried to read her emotion.

“Uh,” Y/N laughed, “I mean, I don’t want to pressure you... or anything.”

“No,” Harry fervently shook his head as he went to rub at her bare arm, “just don’t wanna rush things.”

“I don’t,” Y/N seemed to cut off her own train of thought, “I’m sorry; if you don’t want me, that’s... fine.”

“No, I,” Harry quickly shook his head as Y/N sat on her heels, “of course I want you. I just... I don’t want... I... I tend to... rush things or... I start things too intimate at first and then a relationship follows... but you’re... I don’t know. I don’t want to start like that... at least not with you... I just... I really like you. And... I don’t wanna mess it up... You know?”

Y/N seemed to be trying to figure out whether or not she believed Harry.

“This is usually the part where,” Harry grinned after audibly gulping, “you tell me if you like me... too?”

Traces of a smile grew upon her features before she rolled her eyes, ”I mean, don’t let it go to your head.”

“I will let it go to my head,” Harry smiled as he leaned forward on his hands to extend his neck for her to kiss him, “I can feel my head expanding with it, now.”

“Harry,” Y/N pouted as her hands went to caress each side of his head.

“Y/N,” Harry reciprocated her tone.

“I kinda want to rush things,” Y/N scrunched up her nose.

“Yeah?” Harry seemed to tease, flashing another one of those grins where Y/N couldn’t discern sleep or want.

All Y/N could do was nod before pressing her lips on Harry’s, his tongue going to prod between her lips. His mouth was pleasantly warm for her. It wasn’t long before Y/N ended up on her back, Harry’s presence overwhelming her on the rug in the middle of her living room floor.

“Taste so sweet,” Harry mumbled in between Y/N’s kisses. Y/N only hummed as her fingers went to comb through the hair at the back of his neck.

“A date,” he suddenly pulled away as he looked down at Y/N’s eyelids as she recovered from the loss of contact.

“What?” She furrowed her brows.

“I want a real first date before we go any further,” Harry stated.

“Are you serious?” Y/N furrowed her brows up at him.

“Those are my terms,” Harry nodded, kissing Y/N’s nose in the process, “take ‘em or leave ‘em.”

+ + +

“How’d I look?” Y/N asked as her hands went to run over her legs once more, smoothing out the fabric of the dress Harry had sneakily watched her wiggle into earlier that afternoon from her bedroom.

“Talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular,” Harry and Y/N both shared a fit of laughter, Y/N’s hand going to cover Harry’s larger one before he went to grasp at her fidgeting hands, “no, you look great, you look great. More importantly, how’d I look? I’m the one meeting your friends and family as a first date.”

“You’ve never looked bad a day in your life,” Y/N rolled her eyes as she shifted her weight onto the foot further away from Harry. The two hadn’t had much time to schedule a first date since that night the two shared in Y/N’s home. Their schedules just hadn’t matched up and Y/N decided to suggest the night of her next big soiree as a first date. Harry was reluctant; stating how much he had been wanting to “wine and dine” Y/N. The two both understood how needy the other was for intimate contact, however, and had agreed on the event as a sort of first date.

“Really know how to stroke a boy’s ego,” Harry smiled as he couldn’t help but drape his arms around Y/N’s waist. Harry liked the amount of skin that had been on display. It was a little more than he was used to and he hoped Y/N had done it with intent—with him in mind.

“Are you sure this looks okay? It’s not too tight around my butt?” Y/N craned her neck in attempt to peep a glance at her backside.

“Oh, it looks just fine,” Harry teased as his hands had slipped a little to rest hazardously above the asset they were discussing. 

“Oof, m’shaking in me knickers,” Y/N laughed as she went to peck at Harry’s lips, Harry catching another just as she leaned away at the call of her name.

“Y/N, if you’re done trying to taste your boyfriend’s stomach, Odie’s here,” Jamie called out, a grin pulling at the corners of her lips that had been painted a deep shade of purple as she looked ahead at the sight of Harry’s back and Y/N stood in front of him.

“Oh, uh,” Y/N was going to correct Jamie but was suddenly stopped at the surprising sensation of Harry’s hands squeezing her bum before patting it and rising from his seat.

“Yes, how is the old chap?” Harry wondered aloud, grabbing a hold of Y/N’s hand to lead her out of their nook, as if nothing had happened. The pair had snuck into the kitchen to greet the cook. It hadn’t been long that the two had been chatting with the elder that Harry had to excuse himself to take care of the spilled soup stain on his button up he had caused while trying to slurp Odie’s dish when he barked at someone to find them a spoon. Y/N had stayed behind, scorning Odie for his temper when the two were interrupted.

“Baby,” Greta called, and Y/N immediately recognized the voice.

“Mami!” Y/N beamed as she left Odie’s side to go envelop her mother in an embrace. “You made it!”

“Of course; I told you I would, mamas,” came Y/N’s mother’s response.

“I know,” Y/N pulled away to get a better look at her mother, “but I feel like something always comes up.”

“Well, not this time around,” Greta shook her head as her hands went to push her daughter’s hair off her shoulder, “so... where’s the new boyfriend?”

“Oh my gosh,” Y/N’s eyes seemed to pop out of her head, they bulged so much, “you cannot call him that.”

“Why not?” Y/N’s mother scrunched her nose the same way her daughter would when she was confused.

“Because we haven’t had that talk, yet,” Y/N explained.

“Odie,” Y/N’s mother furrowed her brows over to the cook her daughter had created an odd friendship with.

“I’m already planning the wedding cake, Mami,” Odie grinned.

“I can’t with you two,” Y/N laughed, shaking her head as her hand slipped to intertwine her fingers with her mother’s, “come meet him?”

“Honey, that’s a big part of why I’m here,” Greta responded, “if he thinks I’m gonna take it easy on him just because he’s a big Hollywood star, he’s got another thing coming. You are my most precious thing in this world and-”

“Mom,” Y/N laughed as she squeezed her mother’s hand, “it doesn’t have to be this serious. I don’t even know if this is going to be a long term thing. I just... we haven’t gotten to spend a lot of time together lately and he was willing to come tonight, despite having to meet my family... Can you just... be nice to him? I really like him.”

“You deserve more than you understand, mija,” Greta went to cup her daughter’s cheek, “but, fine, yes. I’ll be nice... but not too nice.”

“Oh my goodness. Odie, nos veremos?” Y/N turned to Odie, signaling their departure.

“Sim, meus amores. Go, enjoy,” Odie nodded before turning back to his kitchen, “onde está aquela colher maldita?”

They had looked in the all the different rooms of the gathering, but it took an unusually long time to find the male. When they did, Y/N and Greta could not help the laughter that ensued. In the middle of the dance floor, Harry seemed to be having the time of his life dancing with one of the elders in Y/N’s family. She was a distant aunt—twice removed or something along those lines. She was a short, little thing standing at about four feet and eleven inches. It was quite comical, the foot height difference between the two as the elder seemed to lead Harry in a few turns here and there.

“Mira tu novio, hija,” Elena called out to Y/N once she noticed her laughing off to the side, “sabe bailar.”

Harry furrowed his brows as he looked back to Y/N to see what the older woman had said.

“She says you know how to dance,” Y/N translated over the music, the end of her laughter ending in a few huffs before Harry’s gaze shifted to the woman that stood next to her. Y/N watched as he neared his lips to the elder’s ear before Elena smiled and nodded, patting his back before she urged him towards Y/N and her mother.

“Sorry,” Harry laughed as he approached the two, Elena on his arm.

“Tan amable, Y/N,” Elena gushed up at Harry, “me miro bailando sola y me invito a bailar.”

Harry’s features contorted as he glanced at Y/N for translation. All Y/N could do is pout her bottom lip at the thought of Harry asking her lone aunt to dance.

“What a gentleman,” Greta raised her brows as Elena parted from the group, giving Harry a little squeeze before excusing herself, “s’nice to meet you, Harry.”

“I would say it was nice to meet you, too, Mrs. Y/L/N, but that couldn’t be true, right? Look too young to be this one’s mum,” Harry nodded as he went to cup Y/N’s mothers palm between his own.

“Oh, my God,” Greta let out a giggle that Y/N couldn’t help but furrow her eyebrows. Y/N couldn’t believe how her mother had already started falling under Harry’s spell.

“Honestly, are you her sister?” Harry continued.

“No,” she chortled, shaking her head, “I’m the mom.”

The mom? Her mother had graduated top of her class both in high school and after completing her master’s degree... What kind of response was that? Y/N crossed her arms as she watched her mother giggle like a school girl.

“Well, you could’ve fooled me,” Harry shrugged before he went on to flatter the older woman. It wasn’t long before Harry had noticed Greta’s toe tapping to the beat of the music playing behind them and had offered his hand to take her out to dance.

“You’ll have to teach me how to dance this,” Harry explained as he glanced at Y/N, “your daughter tried showing me, but I’ve got two left feet.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Greta shook her head as she rolled her eyes at her daughter, “besides, she’s not as nice a teacher as I am.”

“What was that, mom?” Y/N narrowed her eyes, grinning at the two before her mother turned to laugh at her.

“Nothing!” Y/N’s mother snickered as Harry went to twirl the woman.

Harry had spent the better half of the evening endearing Y/N’s friends and family—her mother especially. Greta had fallen in love with the young male. She went around doting on him like she would a son. After failing to get her daughter to fix Harry a plate, she took it upon herself to retrieve food from the kitchen for him. Since then, Y/N had felt pretty unessential. It was a different feeling, to sit back and watch someone she had started developing such serious emotions for go around and enchanting the people she was so close to. She couldn’t quite pin the feeling, at first. Pretty soon, though, she felt pathetic for feeling such a way. It was odd to feel jealous of the time her loved ones had monopolized with Harry. She had blamed it on the fact that she had entered the party thinking it would be a traditional one on one date with Harry—the one he had requested to begin with. Perhaps this was why he had been hesitant to count such a gathering as a first date.

In any event, Y/N had decided it wouldn’t be such a good look for Harry to look over from the little crowd of her relations he had attracted to see her pouting at a nearby table. She had removed herself from pouting in the corner and had treaded up the stairs to step into the night San Franciscan air. She normally wasn’t like this at one of her parties. A prior longtime boyfriend had frequented these events and they never had this problem. He would sit, drink, and smoke with his group of invited friends while Y/N would habitat the dance floor with a constant group of individuals. He would usually go home earlier than she would, but they would always end up sleeping next to one another at the end of the night. She never felt jealousy towards his friends for occupying his time... She wondered why it was so different with Harry. Sure, it was a different relationship (if you could call it that) with a different person; but she didn’t think that should change the way she felt about him spending time with her people.

“Hey,” a voice from behind Y/N’s seated body had frightened her as she quickly turned to see Harry’s head poking out from the door that led to the stairwell, “what’re you doin’ up here? It’s freezing.”

“Oh, uh,” Y/N smiled as she turned back to the scene she had been staring at, “watching lights.”

“The main character, are we?” Harry teased, frowning when Y/N didn’t laugh. It had been something she liked to use as a punchline so many times before and once he had started using the phrase, she always seemed to get a big kick out of the phrase. He wasn’t sure why it had tickled her fancy so much—something about hearing him specifically saying it, she had once said.

“You feeling okay?” Harry gently inquired as his hands went to rub at Y/N’s tense neck before being shrugged off by Y/N.

“Yeah,” she replied, still not looking up from staring out in front of her.

“Okay,” Harry sighed as his fingers went to bunch up the fabric of his pants before he sat down, “that’s a lie... C’mon, what’s wrong? Tired?”

“No,” she shook her head before tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Okay,” Harry went to look at the city lights, “have I done something to offend you? Something I said?”

“No,” Y/N shook her head as she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Stop that,” Harry nudged her lip. It had been a conversation they had just had—Y/N pleading with him to help her stop her bad habit of picking at her lips with her teeth, “look, I’m no mind reader but I know there’s something bothering you... We were having such a lovely time...”

“You spent all night charming everybody’s pants off,” Y/N softly stated.

“And?” Harry shook his head, starting to become a little frustrated. He had never tried so hard to read her mind before... or anyone else’s, for that matter. There was a long pause between them before Harry’s elbow nudged Y/N’s side.

“Do you not want me? I mean, shouldn’t you be trying to charm my pants off?” Y/N huffed. Harry huffed out a breath before he shook his head, staring straight ahead. 

“What?” Y/N asked.

“Baby,” Harry huffed as he turned to face Y/N, his hands reaching out to snake under Y/N’s chin so they could gently grasp the sides of her neck, his thumbs going to push her hair from her face.

“What?” Y/N shook her head as he looked at her under those lashes she had come to be so fond of.

“I couldn’t want you any more than you could possibly know tonight,” Harry replied before his lips were on her and it seemed like a ton of bricks were lifted from Y/N’s shoulders. Harry got chills as he still hadn’t gotten used to how soft her lips were against his own. She tasted like the bubble gum she had been chewing earlier, and he wondered if there would ever be a time when he would tire of the smell of her perfume. Y/N’s hands warmed Harry’s cheeks as he helped hoist her from her seated position next to him so that she could straddle his thighs a little more comfortably. Previous times her lips had met Harry’s were tender and their almost languid. This time was a little different—it was needier and the way Harry rubbed up and down Y/N’s arms had given her goosebumps. His larger hands had slipped down to rub at the bare thighs that had poked out from her bunched up dress. She couldn't help but shiver as the harsh callouses of his fingertips ghosted up and down her skin.

“Looked so good all night, baby,” Harry mumbled between kisses, “d’you wear the tightest dress you could find on purpose? Hm? ... And how’d you know my favorite color on you was blue?”

All he got in response was a little murmur he couldn't quite make out, but he didn’t mind. He liked how she licked at his mouth too much to get huffy puffy over a response that never came. Things had escalated pretty quickly from there—he could soon feel the heat of her where he wanted her the most and he didn’t know how much he could take of their clothing being in the way. There had been one or two purposeful movements of Y/N’s hips before Harry felt Y/N’s hands start to trail between them.

“What’re you doing?” Harry feigned ignorance as Y/N could feel the smile on his lips growing. All Y/N could do was whine at his statement before Harry’s hands had to stop her own.

“As pretty as you look on me out here, can’t do this out here,” Harry shook his head as his thumb went to brush some of Y/N’s hair from between her lips before he couldn’t help but run his thumb over her lips, “least not the first time.”

“Buzzkill,” Y/N frowned before her lips opened to allow Harry’s thumb to lay on her tongue before she briskly sucked on his thumb.

“What would you say to leavin’ the party a little early,” Harry voiced as he felt Y/N’s tongue on his thumb.

“Yes, please,” came Y/N’s muffled response before Harry pulled his thumb from Y/N’s mouth.

“Let’s go say our goodbyes, then,” Harry cooed at Y/N before pressing a kiss to her nose and helping her dismount his lap.

+ + +

[A/N: For all my Latinx Harries out there. I have been working on this since about the very ending of last year and so many things in this blurb have manifested (e.g. Harry + Florence Pugh + Chris Pine working together; people knitting A LOT in lock down). I’m convinced I’m psychic. I hope you are all doing well/safe. Please, remember to wear your masks, socially distance, and treat people w/ kindness. :)}

[mariacallous]

Anyway here’s some information from the National Center for Transgender Equality on how you can support trans people, and here’s a direct link to their donation webpage, and here’s their page for national/federal and state advocacy efforts and actions if you wanted something specific to get involved in.

Here’s the Human Rights Campaign’s resources page about transgender people and issues , and here’s their Get Involved page to help find ways to volunteer and lobby and advocate in your area.

Also, here’s the National Network to End Domestic Violence’s page about the Violence Against Woman Act , their Action Center, and their Donation page.

[armandgender]

writing is so fun

[armandgender]

writing is impossible why does anyone do this

[guldaastan]

i'm plugging in @ahmednaserfamily's fundraiser here. the fundraiser has been verified by gazavetters and is #37 on their list. they have raised less than 2% of their goal and have received only 2 donations in last eight days. this fundraiser is meant to take care of 20 people. please donate and share this fundraiser. i would also encourage you to make your own posts for this family.

donate here

tagging for reach [reply to be removed]

@buttercuparry @timetravellingkitty @jezior0  @neptunerings @khanger

@determinate-negation @transmutationisms @sylvianritual @imjustheretotrytohelp @sunflowersmoths

@maaszeltov @zigcarnivorous @armysurplus @executing @irangp

 @forgetfulrecord  @lesbianmaxevans @fading-event-608 @repulsion @z-moves

@gusherbug @autisticmudkip @tiredguyswag @briarhips  @chilewithcarnage

@fly-sky-high-09  @maoistyuri @noble-kale @thedailydescent @ramshackledtrickster

@theropoda @heydreamchild @galactic-mermaid @c-u-c-koo-4-40k @roadimusprime

@thatsonehellofabird @thedigitalbard @gorillawithautism @opencommunion @postanagramgenerator

@comrademango @turtletoria @prisonhannibal @chokulit

@murderbot @andiv3r-reblogging @akajustmerry @tamamita @death2germany

[justacoldfrappucino]

This was Hillary's final rally in Philadelphia in 2016. She had a crowd size of 40,000+ people. If you think you don't have to vote because the numbers appear good for Harris right now, think again. It's not over until it's over. Vote.

[alloutshirt]

seeing so many people who haven’t been here for a while . we’re all family and will always be . what we got to experience is rare and precious . hope time will allow us to look back at it with joy and peace again . hugging all of you tight

[sophism]

but first of all, victims should never have to worry that this is a potential outcome as a result of them speaking out

[femstyles]

Those 5 boys and the community around them held such a strong role in shaping me and knowing one of them is just... no more... I can't explain this feeling.

[tommosloueh]

+

[guldaastan]

this should make you angry. children in gaza have been out of school for a whole year and will be out of school as long as the israeli invasion continues. palestinian children live in flimsy tents which do not offer them any protection from the heat/cold. they travel long distances to search for water. they are threatened by water-borne diseases and skin infections that are running rampant in gaza.

no aid has been allowed in gaza since may. there is a shortage of everything from food to medicine to blankets to tents. this means that prices for everything have gone up.

it has become very expensive to survive in gaza. heavy rains followed by the winter are fast approaching. a tent does not offer much protection against the elements.

help alaa [ @alaakh998 ] buy supplies for the winter and medicine for her son who is suffering from a skin infection. she has two children aged six and four. she needs to ensure their safety and welfare and it cannot be done without your help.

[verification]

[doinggreat]

RIHANNA Super Bowl Halftime Show 2023

[sickchild]

everybody shut the fuck up i don't want to see any posts that aren't about baby gromit

[sickchild]

happy birthday gromit!

[zaiinab]

i just think that

[mr-styles]

stanleytucci I listen to this man’s music everyday whilst cooking. ⁣⁣⠀ ⁣⁣⠀ It was a great honor to present Artist of the Year at the Brit Awards to the talented and kind soul that is my friend Harry Styles.⠀

[solicitorfrommars]

who is the ultimate little guy?

paddington

kermit

moomin

winnie the pooh

garfield

snoopy

Voting ended onJan 25, 2023

[lycaniums-room]

An ad for your deepest desires :)

[natalieironside]

I don’t wanna compete with anybody.  I hope we all make it.