Best friends. A fake relationship. One weekend in Edinburgh—and maybe a shot at something real.
Author's note: This is a repost of the original story I first shared on Patreon. I’ve done a bit of light editing throughout—tightening up the prose, tweaking a few lines, and adding in some original text that was previously only on Patreon (including a few extended moments I really loved). Thank you so much for reading (or re-reading!)—your support means the world. I hope you enjoy this version just as much, if not more. 🤍
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The soft hum of the evening surrounded them as they sat on Harry’s plush couch, nestled in the heart of his spacious home. The minimalist decor of his living room reflected the careful balance between his hectic life in the spotlight and his need for peace. His house, though large, was warm, with low lighting that gave it a cozy, intimate feel. The air was thick with the scent of the coffee table candles he’d lit earlier—notes of sandalwood and something sweet.
Harry sat next to Y/N, his body half-turned toward her as he read a book, legs tucked beneath him like a cat seeking comfort. There was a distinct softness about him when he was in his own space, away from the flashing cameras and curious eyes of the public. His hair, dark and messy, tumbled over his forehead, catching in the dim light, giving him a boyish charm that contrasted sharply with his usual confident and polished public persona.
He wore a simple white t-shirt, the fabric clinging loosely to his lean frame. His broad shoulders spoke of strength, but his posture, slightly hunched as he leaned into his book, gave off an air of vulnerability. His long fingers traced the edges of the pages absentmindedly, and now and then, his green eyes flicked up from the book, studying Y/N with a kind of quiet amusement, like he was aware of the unspoken understanding that lay between them.
Harry had always been attentive, almost in a way that felt second nature, as though he knew more about her moods than she did. There was something undeniably magnetic about him—his laugh was a little softer here, his voice a touch lower. His fame could never overshadow the gentle heart he showed her when they were alone.
Y/N’s eyes hovered over the same paragraph for what felt like the hundredth time. The words blurred together, the meaning lost as her mind wandered to the man sitting beside her. She was supposed to be reading a novel on leadership—something meant to inspire her as she navigated her demanding corporate job—but her thoughts kept drifting back to him. It was ironic, really. The book talked about control and decisiveness, yet here she was, lost in the one thing she couldn’t control: her feelings for Harry.
She had always found him attractive. No—more than attractive. Beautiful in the kind of way that felt effortless. His messy hair, the way his lips quirked into a half-smile, those green eyes that seemed to see straight through her… It all added up to someone she could never quite believe was real. He’d always been larger than life to her, even before the fame. Back when they were younger, when they were just two young adults with dreams and no idea where life would take them.
But then, his life had soared into stardom, and hers had stayed grounded in the corporate world. He became Harry Styles—the Harry Styles—and she remained his best friend, hidden away from the glamour of his world. She had watched as women swooned over him, throwing themselves at his feet, and she had silently swallowed her feelings. She knew she could never compete. He was out of her league, in every possible way.
And yet, sitting here next to him, as close as they were, it was impossible not to be reminded of just how deep her feelings for him ran. His presence had always had this effect on her, an electric undercurrent that made her skin tingle and her heart pound just a little harder. She stole a glance at him over the top of her book. He was engrossed in whatever he was reading, completely unaware of the thoughts swirling in her mind.
That’s what made it all so painful—he would never see her that way. She was just Y/N, his best mate, his confidant. The one person who was always there, but never the one he looked at with desire. She felt a knot tighten in her chest as she allowed herself, for just a moment, to imagine what it would be like if things were different. If she were someone else. If he saw her the way she saw him.
As if sensing her gaze, Harry suddenly looked up, catching her in the act. His lips twitched into a small, knowing smile, and he set his book down on the coffee table.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asked, his voice low, breaking the silence between them. His eyes locked onto hers, and the way he studied her made her feel exposed, as though he could read her thoughts without her saying a word. “You’ve been staring at that same page for ages.”
Y/N quickly dropped her gaze, closing the book to avoid his probing eyes. “It’s nothing,” she mumbled, though the heat rising to her cheeks gave her away.
He tilted his head, not buying it for a second. “Come on,” he coaxed, a teasing edge to his voice. “Spill it. I know you. You’ve got that look.”
She shifted uncomfortably, trying to laugh it off. “What look?”
“The one where you’re overthinking everything,” he said, leaning back against the couch, still watching her closely. His gaze softened. “Talk to me, Y/N. What’s going on?”
Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat as Harry’s green eyes bore into hers, his expression filled with gentle concern. She had always struggled to lie to him. Whenever he looked at her like that, like he truly cared, she felt like he could see right through her. The panic rose quickly, threatening to bubble over, and she knew she had to say something—anything—to steer the conversation away from the thoughts that were tangled up in her mind.
She blurted out the first thing that came to her. “My cousin’s getting married.”
Harry raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by the abrupt change of subject. “Which cousin?”
Y/N let out a long sigh, glad for the distraction, though the topic she’d chosen wasn’t much better. “The worst one. Out of the three, I mean. You know, the one who’s always got something to say about everything. Perfect life, perfect fiancé, perfect job… perfect everything.”
Harry’s expression softened into one of amused sympathy. He knew exactly the kind of family pressure Y/N was talking about. He stretched out his legs, making himself more comfortable, as if settling in for a story. “Ah, her. That sounds like fun,” he teased, his voice laced with sarcasm.
Y/N rolled her eyes, tucking her legs beneath her as she faced him. “It’s not just her. It’s the whole family. They’re all so excited, and for some reason, they’re all hell-bent on me bringing a date.” She threw her hands up in frustration. “I don’t even have a boyfriend, but everyone keeps asking if I’m bringing someone. They’re already assuming I’m going to show up with a ‘plus one,’ and I just… I don’t want to deal with the humiliation of telling them I’m still single. Again.”
Harry’s brow furrowed slightly as he listened, a small frown tugging at his lips. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked at her thoughtfully. “Y/N, you don’t owe anyone an explanation. If you don’t want to bring someone, then don’t. Your family’s expectations shouldn’t dictate your happiness.”
Y/N smiled weakly, appreciating the sentiment, but her heart was still heavy with the weight of the situation. “I know, but it’s just… hard. It’s like they see me as incomplete because I don’t have someone.” She let out a bitter laugh. “They don’t understand that I’m happy with my life. But at a wedding, it’s like a flashing neon sign that I’m alone.”
Y/N smiled weakly, appreciating the sentiment, but her heart was still heavy with the weight of the situation. “I know, but it’s just… hard. It’s like they see me as incomplete because I don’t have someone.” She let out a bitter laugh. “They don’t understand that I’m happy with my life. But at a wedding, it’s like a flashing neon sign that I’m alone.”
The room fell silent for a moment as Harry absorbed her words, his gaze softening even further. He opened his mouth, about to say something, but then paused, seemingly deep in thought.
Y/N bit her lip, realizing she was rambling, but it was easier to talk about this than the real issue she was trying to avoid. And with Harry sitting so close, his concern for her so palpable, it made her feel even more off-balance. Every time he cared, every time he listened so intently, it reminded her of how much she longed for something more than just friendship.
But that wasn’t an option. Not with him. So, she buried it all under the wedding invitation and the pressures from her family, hoping it would be enough to keep him from asking more.
Harry studied her for a long moment, eyes searching her face like he could sense there was something more she wasn’t saying. He tilted his head slightly, lips pressing together in that way he always did when he was thinking hard.
“Is that really why you’re freaking out?” he asked gently, his voice laced with quiet skepticism.
Y/N felt her stomach twist, the question catching her off guard. She hated how easily he could see through her, but she wasn’t about to crack. Not when it came to her deeper feelings. So, she nodded quickly, clutching onto the family wedding excuse like a lifeline. “Yes, it is. It’s a big issue, Harry. Every time I visit my family, it just… it tears me down a little more. They make me feel like I’m somehow falling behind because I don’t have someone. It’s exhausting.”
He sighed softly, his eyes softening with sympathy, though there was still a trace of doubt in his gaze. Without saying anything more, he leaned back against the couch and picked up his book again, his fingers absently running along the spine.
For a few minutes, silence fell between them, the crackling of the fire and the soft rustle of turning pages the only sounds filling the room. Y/N watched him out of the corner of her eye, heart still racing from the close call. She didn’t know what she’d do if he pushed further—if he managed to pry open the lid she’d been keeping on her feelings. She shifted in her seat, trying to focus on her book, but the words refused to make sense.
Then, just as she was beginning to lose herself in her own anxious thoughts, Harry broke the silence.
“I’ve got an easy solution,” he said suddenly, his voice calm and casual, like he hadn’t just spent several minutes in contemplative silence. He didn’t even look up from his book. “I’ll go with you.”
Y/N blinked, his words not quite registering at first. “What?”
He glanced over at her, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’ll be your date. To the wedding,” he clarified, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Problem solved.”
Her heart skipped a beat, her mind racing to catch up. “You… you’re serious?” She could hardly believe what she was hearing. Harry Styles, her best friend—and secret crush—offering to be her date to her cousin’s wedding?
“Of course,” he said, shrugging as if it were no big deal. “If it’ll make things easier for you, I’m in. I’ll go, smile for the family, and be the perfect distraction. You won’t have to deal with any awkward questions about being single.”
Y/N stared at him, stunned. He made it sound so simple, like it was no trouble at all. But for her, it was anything but simple. Having him at her side, pretending to be her date, while she tried to keep her feelings under control… It sounded like both a dream and a nightmare all at once.
She swallowed hard, trying to find her voice. “Harry, you don’t have to—”
“I want to,” he interrupted, closing his book and turning his full attention to her now. His gaze was steady, sincere. “You’re my best friend, Y/N. If this is stressing you out, let me help. I’d be happy to go with you.”
Her heart swelled at his words, warmth spreading through her chest at the thought of him being there, by her side, at a time when she felt most vulnerable. But at the same time, the reality of pretending—of standing next to him, feeling things she shouldn’t, knowing it was all just for show—made her feel dizzy.
“Are you sure?” she asked, her voice quieter now, almost unsure.
Harry’s smile widened into that familiar, mischievous grin. “Positive. And besides, who wouldn’t want to show off a date like me?” he teased, his tone light, but his eyes still holding that warm, comforting sincerity.
Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, her anxiety easing just a little. Maybe, just maybe, having Harry with her wouldn’t be so bad. It might even be the perfect distraction—from her family, and from her feelings. If she could keep them in check, that is.
“He’s going with you?!” Maddie’s voice echoed through the apartment, loud and full of disbelief.
Y/N, sitting cross-legged on the floor in her bedroom, groaned and yelled back, “I know!”
Maddie appeared in the doorway a second later, her eyes wide with shock and excitement. “Harry Styles—your best friend and international superstar—is going to a wedding with you. As your date. This is… this is insane!”
Y/N let out a half-laugh, half-sigh as she flopped back onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling. “Trust me, I’m still trying to process it.”
Maddie crossed her arms, leaning against the doorframe. “Okay, let’s go over the logistics because this is a lot to unpack. First of all, the wedding is a whole weekend, right?”
“Yeah,” Y/N muttered, sitting up and running a hand through her hair. “It’s in Edinburgh, so we’re going up on Friday, staying until Sunday. Two full days of family, dinners, receptions, and a ton of small talk.”
“And Harry knows this?” Maddie asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically.
Y/N bit her lip, her voice dropping to a quiet murmur. “No, not exactly.”
Maddie’s eyes widened even further. “Wait, so you haven’t told him it’s a whole weekend thing? What if he backs out when he realizes it’s not just a one-night event?”
Y/N sat up straighter, her anxiety returning in full force. “I mean, I hope he won’t. He offered so casually, but I didn’t get into all the details.” She winced, feeling a bit guilty for not being completely upfront. “It’s just... he said yes so easily, and I didn’t want to overwhelm him with everything all at once.”
Maddie shook her head, pacing the room in thought. “Okay, well, you’ve got to tell him. He’s going to need to know what he’s signing up for. The last thing you want is him backing out last minute.”
“I know,” Y/N agreed, sighing. “I’ll tell him tomorrow. I just… I really hope he doesn’t change his mind. It’s already going to be awkward enough dealing with my family, and having Harry there is the only thing keeping me sane.”
Maddie stopped pacing and turned to her with a mischievous smile. “Well, there’s something else we need to focus on.”
“What’s that?” Y/N asked, dreading the answer.
“Your outfits!” Maddie exclaimed, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “This is a wedding weekend in Edinburgh with Harry as your date. You need to look absolutely perfect every single day.”
Y/N groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Maddie, please don’t make this into a fashion show. I’m already freaking out as it is.”
Her roommate crossed the room and sat down on the bed beside her, nudging her playfully. “Listen, if you want your family to shut up about you being single, you’ve got to show up looking like the best version of yourself. And besides…” She shot her a knowing look. “It wouldn’t hurt for Harry to see you in a new light.”
Y/N peeked up at her through her fingers. “What do you mean?”
Maddie grinned. “Come on, Y/N. You’ve had a crush on him for as long as I’ve known you. Maybe this is the chance to finally turn his head, you know? If he’s going to be by your side all weekend, you might as well look stunning while you’re at it.”
Y/N’s heart fluttered at the thought, but she quickly shook her head. “Harry doesn’t see me that way, Mads. He’s going because he’s a good friend. That’s it.”
“Maybe. But maybe not,” Maddie said with a wink. “Either way, we’re going to make sure you look incredible. Now, where’s that suitcase of yours? We’ve got some planning to do.”
The next day, Y/N stood outside Harry’s house, a small bouquet of flowers in her hand. She smiled as she reached for the familiar key in her pocket, the one Harry had given her ages ago. She slipped it into the lock, the click of the door unlocking bringing a sense of comfort. Harry’s house had always felt like a second home to her—sometimes more of a home than her own apartment, if she was honest.
Walking inside, the familiar scent fresh linen greeted her, making her feel instantly at ease. She made her way into the kitchen, glancing around at the cozy space before setting the flowers down on the counter. After a quick search for a vase, she arranged them carefully, letting out a satisfied sigh once they were settled. The bright colors of the flowers added a little warmth to the room, something she liked doing whenever she visited.
“Harry?” she called out, already heading towards the back of the house and into the familiar hallway that led to his bedroom.
“Closet!” his voice echoed, slightly muffled, from somewhere in the bedroom.
She stepped inside, smiling to herself. His bedroom looked like it always did—neatly chaotic, with a mix of designer clothes and random bits of his life scattered about. But one thing caught her eye immediately: his Gucci suitcase, already lying open on the floor, ready to be packed.
He’s really going through with it, she thought, a mixture of excitement and nerves bubbling up inside her.
As she approached the closet, Harry emerged, fresh out of the shower, a towel slung low around his hips. His damp curls clung to his forehead, and water still glistened on his skin. He caught her eye and grinned.
“Didn’t hear you come in,” he said, toweling off his hair as he glanced down at the suitcase. “I figured I’d start getting things ready for this weekend. here we come.”
Y/N chuckled, leaning against the doorway of his closet. “You’re already ahead of me. I haven’t even started packing yet.”
Harry shot her a playful look. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you choose your outfits. You know I have opinions.”
Y/N rolled her eyes, her heart lightened by his teasing. But as she looked at him—standing there so casually, like this whole wedding weekend was no big deal—a knot formed in her chest. It was all starting to feel very real, and the idea of spending an entire weekend with him, pretending he was her date, was starting to feel overwhelming. Still, she couldn’t deny how good it felt to be in his presence, the one place where everything seemed a little less complicated.
Y/N lingered by the doorway of Harry’s closet, watching as he continued to dry his hair, the smell of his cologne mixing with the steam from his shower. She glanced again at the Gucci suitcase on the floor, neatly positioned and ready to be packed. A wave of guilt hit her. She hadn’t told him everything yet—about the wedding being an entire weekend event.
Clearing her throat, she shifted her weight. “So, uh, Harry… there’s something I need to mention about the wedding.”
Harry raised an eyebrow, still toweling his hair, his grin never faltering. “What’s that? Do I need to brush up on my dance moves?”
She let out a small laugh, then bit her lip. “It’s not just the wedding ceremony, you know. It’s kind of… a whole weekend thing.”
He stopped drying his hair, the towel resting on his shoulders as he turned to face her fully. “A whole weekend?”
Y/N nodded, her heart picking up its pace. “Yeah. It’s in Edinburgh, and there’s a dinner on Friday, the ceremony and reception on Saturday, and a brunch on Sunday. It’s like… a three-day event.”
For a moment, Harry just stared at her, blinking. His eyes searched her face, processing what she’d just said.
“Wait, so it’s a full-on wedding extravaganza?” he asked, his voice tinged with amusement.
Y/N nodded again, suddenly feeling sheepish. “Yeah, I should’ve mentioned that before. But I didn’t want to scare you off.”
Harry let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Scare me off? Y/N, I’m already committed to this. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” He tossed the towel aside and crossed the room, leaning casually against the wall beside her. “A weekend in Edinburgh with you? Honestly, that sounds like a good time.”
Y/N’s eyes flickered with relief, though a part of her was still nervous. “You sure? I mean, it’s a lot—my family, the pressure… all of it.”
Harry shrugged, giving her a reassuring smile. “I’ve done crazier things. Plus, I’m kind of looking forward to charming your family.” His grin widened, eyes sparkling. “So, when do we leave?”
Y/N smiled, her chest filling with warmth. He really wasn’t backing out. He was in this with her, and somehow, the weekend ahead didn’t seem so daunting anymore.
Y/N and Harry sat cross-legged on the floor of his living room, plates of Indian takeout spread across the coffee table. The comforting aroma of curry and naan filled the room as they half-watched How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days playing on the TV. They had seen it a million times, but it never got old—Harry always laughed at the same parts, and Y/N always teased him for knowing the lines better than she did.
As Y/N scooped up a bite of butter chicken with a piece of naan, she noticed Harry glancing at her with a mischievous look in his eyes. She raised an eyebrow, already suspicious. “What’s that look for?”
Harry grinned, leaning back against the couch, plate balanced on his lap. “I was just thinking about the wedding.”
“Please don’t remind me,” Y/N groaned, shaking her head. “I’m still processing the fact that you’re actually going.”
“Don’t worry, I’m still all in,” Harry assured her, nudging her playfully. “But I had a thought… Why don’t we drive to Edinburgh?”
Y/N blinked, lowering her fork. “Drive? Like, from here to Edinburgh? That’s over eight hours, H.”
“Exactly!” he said, his eyes lighting up like it was the best idea he’d ever had. “Think about it—if we drive, we have complete control. If things get weird at the wedding, we’ll have a getaway car. No waiting around for flights or relying on anyone. We can just leave whenever we want.”
Y/N gave him a skeptical look. “You’re planning our escape before we’ve even arrived?”
He shrugged, popping a piece of naan into his mouth. “I like to be prepared. And besides, it’s not just about the escape plan. We’d get a proper road trip! Snacks, music, random stops at those little roadside places—remember the last time we did a long drive?”
Y/N couldn’t help but smile at the memory. “Yeah, and you made us stop at every service station just to try the food.”
Harry’s grin widened. “Exactly! Imagine all the snacks we could pack—crisps, chocolate, samosas. And the music—oh, the music! I’ll make the ultimate road trip playlist. We’ll sing along the whole way, windows down, no stress.”
Y/N snorted, shaking her head. “You just want an excuse to sing loudly and off-key, don’t you?”
“Hey, I have excellent taste in road trip tunes,” he said, pointing a fork at her in mock offense. “Besides, don’t you think it’d be fun? Eight hours in the car, just us, no rush.”
She tilted her head, contemplating the idea for a moment. As much as she loved the thought of a carefree road trip with Harry, she was more focused on practicality. “Look, I get it. But it’s just… flying is so much quicker. We’ll be there in less than two hours, and we won’t be exhausted by the time we get there. We need our energy for my family and the whole wedding thing.”
Harry leaned back against the couch, pouting playfully. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”
She looked over at Harry, who was now munching on a piece of naan with an expectant grin on his face. He seemed to sense her change of heart and glanced up, eyebrows raised in question.
“You know,” Y/N said, breaking the comfortable silence, “Let’s do it!”.
Harry’s eyes widened in surprise and delight. “Really? Are you serious?”
Y/N nodded, a smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah, why not? It could be fun. And I guess having the car would be good for flexibility. If we need a quick escape or just want to explore a bit…”
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The villa buzzed with quiet chatter and occasional laughter as the Islanders scattered across the garden and lounge areas, enjoying the calm of the evening. The stars above twinkled faintly, casting a serene glow over the scene. But inside, away from the easy conversation and playful banter, Harry sat alone on his bed.
The door was cracked open, letting in a faint murmur of voices and the distant clinking of glasses. He stared at the floor, his elbows resting on his knees, the weight of the day pressing down on him like a heavy blanket. His head throbbed slightly—not from any physical ailment, but from the emotional exhaustion that came with living in a villa where every word, every action, every glance was scrutinized.
His gaze flicked to the bedside table where a photo of his family sat. It was his anchor, his reminder of life outside this bubble. But even that felt distant now.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair, tugging slightly as if that would somehow untangle the mess in his mind. Sophia’s laugh from the garden echoed faintly through the villa, and his stomach churned. He liked her energy, her confidence. But the guilt that came with thinking about her when Y/N’s face kept flashing in his mind was unbearable.
And Y/N… She was everything he wanted. Except he didn’t know if she wanted him in the same way. Not really. Her guardedness, her hesitance in showing her feelings publicly, gnawed at him. It felt like she was holding back, and it made him question everything. Was she scared? Or just not as into him as he was into her?
He leaned back against the headboard, eyes closing briefly as he exhaled deeply. It was strange—he felt drained in a way he couldn’t fully explain. Being in this villa, surrounded by people constantly, was supposed to be exciting, fun, and carefree. Instead, it felt like he was carrying the weight of two different versions of himself: the one who wanted to let go and the one who couldn’t stop thinking about what he might lose if he did.
The door creaked open softly, and Harry glanced up to see Sophia stepping in. Her small smile was warm but carried a hint of curiosity. She walked toward him slowly, hands clasped behind her back.
“Thought I’d find you in here,” she said, her voice light but purposeful. “Everyone’s outside. It’s a bit of a vibe.”
Harry forced a smile. “Needed some space.”
Sophia tilted her head, her eyes scanning his face. “Heavy day?”
“You could say that,” he replied, leaning back against the headboard.
Sophia took a step closer, perching on the bed opposite him. “Well, if you’re looking for something to take your mind off it, I was thinking… maybe you’d want to sleep outside with me tonight?”
Her tone was casual, but her intent was clear. The corners of her mouth lifted in an inviting smile as she waited for his response.
Harry’s heart skipped a beat. He knew this moment was coming; he’d felt it brewing all day. And yet, faced with it, the words caught in his throat. Finally, he managed a smile, soft but apologetic, and shook his head.
“I appreciate the offer,” he started, his tone careful. “But I think I’m going to stay in here tonight. ”
The change in Sophia’s expression was subtle but sharp. Her smile faltered, her eyes narrowing just slightly. “With Y/N?” she repeated, her voice tinged with disbelief.
Harry nodded, feeling the weight of his decision in the air between them. “Yeah. I just… I need to sort things out with her.”
Sophia’s posture stiffened, and she let out a dry laugh. “Wow. So, after everything today, you’re still chasing her?”
“It’s not about chasing,” Harry said quickly, his voice firm but not unkind. “It’s about what feels right. And I owe it to her—to us—to figure that out.”
Sophia crossed her arms, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “You know what, Harry? Maybe you should figure it out. Because right now, it feels like you’re just stringing people along.”
Harry flinched at her words but didn’t argue. Instead, he exhaled deeply. “I’m sorry if it feels that way. That’s not my intention, Sophia. I think you’re amazing. But my head’s a mess, and I can’t give you what you deserve while I’m still working out what I want.”
Sophia stood, her movements sharp. “Right. Well, good luck figuring it out. Hope she’s worth it.”
Without another word, she turned and walked out, leaving Harry alone once again. He leaned forward, running his hands through his hair and letting out a long, frustrated sigh.
“Great job, Harry,” he muttered to himself. “One more bridge burned.”
“Ah, poor Harry. Torn between two beauties and about as decisive as a toddler choosing an ice cream flavour. Don’t worry, mate, I’m sure this will definitely work out well for you. Or not.”
Y/N stepped in softly, already dressed in her pyjamas: an oversized shirt and comfortable shorts. Her face was bare, her hair tied loosely back, and a slight crease of uncertainty lined her brow. She wasn’t sure how to approach Harry, especially after the game earlier and everything that followed.
Harry was lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling, though his gaze flickered toward her briefly as she entered. He didn’t say anything, and neither did she. The lights were still on, casting a warm glow across the room, highlighting the neatly made beds of those who hadn’t yet retired for the night.
Y/N moved to her side of the bed, placing her water bottle on the nightstand before sitting down. The mattress dipped slightly under her weight as she uncapped the bottle and took one last sip. For a moment, she simply sat there, her fingers nervously playing with the hem of her shirt.
Then, without a word, she slid under the covers, turning onto her side to face the wall. She curled up slightly, pulling the duvet up to her shoulders, her breathing slow and steady as she stared into the soft light of the room.
Harry shifted, lying on his side but with his back to her. He had hoped she might say something, even something small—an olive branch, a sign that she wanted to bridge the gap between them. But her quiet, distant demeanor said otherwise.
He exhaled silently, the weight of the day pressing heavier on him now that they were so close yet felt so far apart.
The unspoken tension hung between them like a thread stretched taut, fragile and fraying at the edges.
The tension in the room shifted suddenly as Harry felt her arms wrap around his torso from behind. The warmth of her embrace caught him off guard, making him still for a moment. Her cold feet brushed against his thigh, sending a sharp contrast through his skin, and he shivered involuntarily.
Her breath, soft and warm, tickled the nape of his neck, and before he could even process what was happening, she pressed a gentle kiss just under his ear. The sensation sent a jolt through him, her touch tender yet charged with unspoken emotion. Her arms tightened around him as if she didn’t want him slipping away—not tonight.
Harry’s heart raced, his mind struggling to catch up with his body’s reaction. It was intimate, more than he expected, and far more than he thought she’d allow herself to give after the events of the day.
His hand instinctively moved to hers, resting over the warmth of her grip. His fingers intertwined with hers for a brief moment, grounding him in the moment.
He turned his head slightly, his voice soft. “Y/N?”
She didn’t answer, only pressing closer, her face near his shoulder.
Harry exhaled, letting himself relax into the moment before gently shifting. Slowly, he turned around to face her, their eyes meeting in the dimly lit room. Her face was close, her expression vulnerable, a mix of hesitation and longing.
For a moment, they simply looked at each other, no words exchanged but everything they needed to say hanging in the space between them. Harry’s hand moved up to brush a strand of hair from her face, his touch lingering against her cheek.
“Is this real?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Y/N didn’t answer with words. Instead, she leaned in, her forehead resting lightly against his, her breaths mingling with his. It was intimate, unguarded, and for the first time in days, it felt like they were finally on the same page—even if they hadn’t spoken a word.
Y/N’s voice was barely audible as she whispered, her lips close to his ear. “I don’t want to argue or fight anymore.”
Harry felt his chest tighten at the vulnerability in her tone. He nodded, his own voice soft but firm. “Neither do I. I hate conflict. Especially with you.”
She hesitated, her fingers brushing against his chest as if gathering courage. Her heartbeat seemed to echo in her ears, but she pressed on. “I like you, Harry. Too much to let anyone snatch you away in three days—not when we haven’t even given ourselves a proper chance.”
Her words hung in the air, raw and unfiltered. Harry’s lips curved into a smile, small but genuine, as he searched her eyes for any trace of doubt. “Do you really feel something for me?” he asked, his voice tinged with hope.
Y/N raised an eyebrow, a faint smile playing on her lips despite her nerves. “Do you seriously doubt it?”
Harry didn’t respond immediately, his silence speaking volumes. Y/N’s gaze softened as she scooted closer, the space between them disappearing. Her hand rested lightly against his cheek, grounding him in the moment.
“I don’t ever want you to hesitate, Harry,” she murmured, her tone gentle but resolute. “Not about me. Not about us.”
Her words hit him like a wave, washing away the doubts and confusion he’d been wrestling with. Harry’s hand covered hers, pressing it against his cheek as he leaned into her touch. His eyes searched hers, seeing nothing but sincerity and determination.
“I won’t,” he promised quietly, the weight of her words settling in his chest. “Not anymore.”
Y/N’s lips curved into a soft smile, and for the first time in what felt like days, the tension between them seemed to dissolve. She rested her forehead against his, their breaths mingling in the shared quiet of the room.
The sound of laughter and footsteps signaled the return of the other Islanders, their chatter filling the shared bedroom as they trickled in to wind down for the night. Harry glanced toward the door, his eyes darting back to Y/N’s as a cheeky grin tugged at his lips. Without a word, he grabbed the edge of the duvet and pulled it up over both their heads, creating a cocoon of privacy amidst the chaos.
“Real subtle, Harry,” Y/N whispered, her voice laced with amusement as she stifled a giggle.
“Just trying to save us from the peanut gallery,” Harry muttered, though there was a playful twinkle in his eyes.
The muffled voices of the Islanders grew louder, and it didn’t take long before Lucas clocked the huddle under the duvet.
“Oh, what’s all this then?” Lucas called out, his tone dripping with mischief. He let out a loud wolf whistle, drawing attention from the rest of the room. “Harry and Y/N, hiding away like two lovebirds under there!”
Before either of them could respond, Lucas threw himself dramatically onto the lump beneath the duvet. The impact caused Harry to groan in mock annoyance, and Y/N couldn’t hold back her laughter.
“Get off, you prat!” Harry protested, his voice muffled by the blanket as he shoved at Lucas’s weight.
“Oi, don’t mind me!” Lucas teased, sprawling over them with exaggerated effort. “Just making sure you’re not sneaking off to the Hideaway without telling us.”
The room erupted into laughter, and Amber chimed in, “Lucas, leave ’em alone! Let them have their moment, for God’s sake.”
“Moment? They’re about to suffocate under there!” Lucas quipped, finally rolling off and collapsing onto his own bed with a cheeky grin.
Harry threw back the duvet just enough to glare at Lucas. “You’re lucky I don’t kick you out of this room, mate.”
“Love you too, pal,” Lucas replied with a wink, settling in and pulling his own duvet over himself.
Y/N shook her head, still giggling as she turned back to Harry. “You’re surrounded by absolute children.”
Harry sighed dramatically but smiled. “Tell me about it.”
Underneath the playful banter and teasing, there was a sense of ease that hadn’t been there earlier. Even in the chaos of the shared room, Harry and Y/N felt like they’d carved out a little space for themselves.
The morning sun poured into the villa, bathing the kitchen in a golden glow. The smell of sizzling eggs and toast wafted through the air as Islanders milled about, still in their pyjamas and nursing mugs of tea. Y/N was leaning against the counter, a relaxed smile on her face as she watched Harry flip a pancake with surprising precision.
“You’re getting the hang of it,” she teased, nudging him lightly with her elbow.
“Hang of it? I’m basically a Michelin-star chef,” Harry quipped, sliding the pancake onto a plate and passing it to her. “There you go, princess.”
The others in the kitchen exchanged knowing looks, their grins growing as Harry reached to brush flour off Y/N’s cheek.
“Oh, they’re insufferable,” Amber groaned, though she couldn’t hide her amusement.
“Leave them alone,” Lucas chimed in, pouring milk into his tea. “They’re in their honeymoon phase.”
Chloe smirked as she leaned against the counter next to Y/N. “Alright, lovebirds, enough showing off. Y/N, come have a chat with me.”
Y/N raised a brow, momentarily hesitant to leave Harry’s side, but Chloe was already pulling her by the arm toward the seating area. She shot Harry a look over her shoulder, and he gave her a playful wink before turning back to the stove.
“Alright,” Y/N said as they sat down, “what’s all this about?”
Chloe’s eyes sparkled with excitement, leaning in conspiratorially. “Okay, so… Lucas.”
Y/N’s brows shot up. “Lucas?”
“Lucas,” Chloe repeated, her voice dropping to a whisper even though the kitchen wasn’t far. “We had a bit of a moment last night. Well, not just a moment—a proper chat. He was sweet, funny… cheeky as always, but he said some things that had me thinking.”
Y/N leaned forward, intrigued. “Go on.”
Chloe grinned. “He said he’d been watching me in the challenges, and he thinks I’m the ‘dark horse’ of the villa. Can you believe that? And then—get this—he said he couldn’t stop looking at me during that Pilates session yesterday.”
Y/N’s eyes widened, and she clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh. “No way! What did you say?”
“I told him to behave himself, obviously,” Chloe said with a dramatic eye roll, though her cheeks flushed. “But… it felt good, you know? Like, maybe he actually sees me. Not just as the ‘fun one,’ but as someone he’d be serious about.”
Y/N smiled warmly, placing a hand on Chloe’s arm. “You deserve that, Chlo. If he’s making you feel good and treating you right, then I say go for it.”
Chloe bit her lip, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face. “Yeah, but you know me. I don’t want to get carried away and end up hurt.”
“Take your time,” Y/N advised. “Feel it out, but don’t let fear stop you. You’re amazing, and if Lucas doesn’t realise that, he’s not worth your energy.”
Chloe smiled, squeezing Y/N’s hand. “Thanks, babe. You’re a good egg, you know that?”
Y/N chuckled. “I try.”
Harry carried a tray of scrambled eggs, toast, and a couple of plates over to where Y/N was lounging by the outdoor table. Her legs were tucked underneath her, the morning sun making her skin glow. He set the tray down with a flourish.
“Breakfast, madam,” he said with a cheeky grin.
Y/N smiled, sitting up. “Thanks, chef. You didn’t spit in it, did you?”
“Only a little,” he teased, grabbing a slice of toast for himself before retreating to sit on the bean bag beside Lucas.
As Lucas muttered something about the game last night and nudged Harry, he suddenly froze. “Ah, crap,” Harry muttered, slapping his hand against his forehead.
“What now?” Lucas asked, raising a brow.
“Left the smoothies on the counter,” Harry groaned, already pushing himself up. “Be back in a sec.”
As Harry disappeared into the villa, Sophia sauntered across the garden and, with all the grace of a lion claiming its territory, plopped herself onto the bean bag Harry had just vacated.
“Morning,” she said with a saccharine smile, turning her attention directly to Y/N.
Y/N glanced up from her plate, her smile fading slightly. “Morning.”
Sophia leaned back, playing with her hair as she tilted her head. “So… I have to ask,” she started, her tone light but her eyes sharp. “What did you say to Harry last night to make him change his mind?”
Y/N paused mid-chew, swallowing before setting her fork down deliberately. “Not sure what you mean,” she said calmly.
Sophia smirked. “Oh, come on. You must’ve said something. I mean, he was all over me one second, then suddenly he’s acting like I’ve got the plague. Gotta give you credit, though—you work fast.”
Y/N leaned back in her seat, her gaze steady. “I don’t need to convince anyone to do anything, Sophia. If Harry made a choice, it’s because it’s what he wanted. Maybe that’s something you should think about.”
Sophia laughed lightly, brushing imaginary lint off her shorts. “Oh, I’m not mad. I’m actually amused. Just watching you claw to keep him when you’re usually so… what’s the word? Aloof?”
Y/N’s jaw tightened, but her voice remained calm. “It’s not about clawing. When you’re confident in a connection, you don’t have to fight for it. Guess that’s why you’re so interested in what’s going on.”
The subtle jab didn’t go unnoticed. Sophia’s smile faltered for a moment before she leaned forward, her tone dropping. “You’re cute when you’re defensive. But let’s not pretend, yeah? Harry’s got options. And three days isn’t a lot of time to lock anything down. I’d be careful if I were you.”
Y/N stared at her for a moment, then smiled sweetly. “Thanks for the advice, but I think I’ll be fine. And by the way, if Harry has options, so do I.”
Before Sophia could retort, Harry returned, holding two smoothies in his hands. He stopped short, glancing between the two of them, sensing the tension. “What’s going on here?”
Sophia stood, her grin back in place as she brushed past him. “Nothing at all. Just girl talk.”
Harry frowned, watching her walk away before turning to Y/N. “Everything alright?”
Y/N smiled, taking one of the smoothies from him. “Perfect. Thanks for breakfast.”
Harry hesitated, glancing back toward Sophia before sitting beside Y/N. “She didn’t say anything, did she?”
Y/N shook her head, sipping her smoothie. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”
Harry’s lips quirked into a small smile as he watched her. “You’re something else, you know that?”
“And don’t you forget it,” she said, nudging him with her shoulder.
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The beauty room was quiet, the hum of fluorescent lights the only sound accompanying Y/N as she wiped away the remnants of her make-up. The day had been long and emotionally draining, her mind replaying every interaction, every glance, every word. Harry’s behaviour, or rather lack thereof, gnawed at her. She’d seen him laughing with Sophia earlier, their heads bent close as if sharing a secret, and the sight had felt like a knife twisting in her chest.
The door creaked open, and Y/N’s eyes flicked up to the mirror. Harry stood there, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his shorts, his usual confident demeanour replaced by something hesitant. She turned back to the mirror, focusing on her reflection as she continued wiping off her make-up.
“Y/N,” he started, his voice soft but steady. “Can we talk?”
Ah, Harry. The king of timing. Nothing like waiting until the absolute worst moment to finally address the elephant in the villa
She didn’t respond immediately, finishing with her make-up wipe before tossing it into the bin. Finally, she turned to face him, arms crossed. “Talk about what, Harry?”
He took a tentative step forward. “About today. About… everything.”
Y/N raised an eyebrow, her expression guarded. “Now you want to talk? After ignoring me all day?”
Harry winced, running a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t ignoring you. I just… I didn’t know how to approach you.”
“Approach me?” she repeated, her tone sharp. “Harry, you’re my partner. We’re supposed to be in this together. And yet, you’re off entertaining Sophia while I’m left wondering where we stand.”
“It wasn’t like that,” he said quickly, his voice rising slightly. “She asked me to go on the date. I didn’t have a choice.”
“And after the date?” Y/N shot back. “Did you have a choice then? Because you chose not to come talk to me. You chose to avoid me, Harry.”
He sighed, his shoulders sagging. “You’re right. I should’ve come to you. I should’ve explained everything, but I was… scared.”
“Scared of what?”
“Of making things worse,” he admitted. “I knew you were upset, and I thought if I gave you space, it might help. Clearly, I was wrong.”
Y/N’s gaze softened slightly, though her stance remained firm. “You can’t just shut me out, Harry. That’s not how this works. If we’re going to survive in here, we need to communicate. Otherwise, what’s the point?”
He nodded, stepping closer until there was barely any space between them. “You’re right. I messed up, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel ignored or unimportant because you’re not. You’re the only one I care about in here, Y/N.”
Her eyes searched his, looking for any sign of insincerity but finding none. Slowly, her arms uncrossed, and she let out a sigh. “Do you like her, Harry?” she asked suddenly, her tone firm. “And I mean be straight with me. No bullshit.”
Harry froze, his eyes darting away as he hesitated. “I… I don’t know,” he admitted after a long pause. “I like spending time with you, Y/N. But I… I guess I just want to keep my options open for now.”
“Ah, the classic ‘keep my options open.’ Translation: I like you but not enough to close the shop.”
Her expression faltered for a moment, the bluntness of his words cutting deeper than she expected. She straightened, her walls going up again. “Right. Well, thanks for being honest, I suppose,” she said, her voice quieter but edged with hurt. “But don’t expect me to wait around while you figure out your options, Harry. I’m not a backup plan.”
“Backup plan? Y/N isn’t even the plan—she’s the main event, Harry!”
Harry’s face fell. “Y/N, it’s not like that—”
“Then what is it like?” she interrupted, meeting his gaze with a steely resolve. “Because right now, it feels like I’m the one doing all the work to keep this going. And if you’re not all in, maybe we’re wasting our time.”
Harry opened his mouth to respond but faltered, unable to find the right words. Y/N shook her head, turning back to the mirror. “You know where I stand. Prove to me that I’m wrong about you, Harry. Otherwise, don’t bother.”
For the first time that day, Harry didn’t know what to say.
The next morning, Y/N and Chloe were sprawled out on yoga mats on the villa terrace, catching their breath after finishing a Pilates YouTube video. The sun bathed the terrace in a warm glow, and the faint sound of birds chirping added to the calmness of the scene. Y/N wiped her forehead with a towel, her expression distant.
“Nothing like a bit of Pilates to stretch the legs and spill the tea.”
Chloe noticed immediately. “Alright, spill. You’ve been quiet all morning. What’s going on?”
Y/N sighed, sitting up and crossing her legs. “It’s Harry,” she admitted, her voice tinged with frustration. “Last night, we had a chat. I asked him straight up if he liked Sophia, and do you know what he said?”
Chloe raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“He said he wants to keep his options open,” Y/N said, her voice cracking slightly. “I mean, what am I supposed to do with that? I feel like an idiot for even caring at this point.”
Chloe sat up, her face serious. “Y/N, listen to me. You cannot let him see you sweat. If he wants to keep his options open, fine. Let him. But you need to act like you couldn’t care less about him or Sophia.”
Y/N frowned. “Easier said than done. I don’t know if I can just switch off how I feel.”
“You don’t have to switch it off,” Chloe said, her tone firm but encouraging. “You just have to fake it for now. Trust me, guys like Harry hate feeling like they don’t have control. If you act unbothered, it’ll throw him off completely. And in the meantime, you’ll give yourself space to figure out what you actually want.”
“Chloe, handing out advice like smoothies. And she’s not wrong. Nothing shakes a lad like a girl who’s unbothered.”
Y/N bit her lip, considering Chloe’s words. “So, what? Just pretend like I don’t care?”
Chloe nodded. “Exactly. Smile, laugh, chat with everyone else, and don’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you upset. Time will do the rest.”
A small smile broke through Y/N’s conflicted expression. “You make it sound so easy.”
“It’s not,” Chloe admitted with a grin. “You’ve got this.”
Y/N took a deep breath, the weight on her chest feeling slightly lighter. “Alright. Let’s see how unbothered I can be.”
Chloe laughed, nudging her playfully. “That’s the spirit. Now, how about we reward ourselves with a smoothie?”
Harry stood at the kitchen counter, his hands wrapped around a steaming mug of tea. The morning sun streamed through the villa’s glass doors, casting a warm glow over the open-plan space. Lucas joined him, rubbing sleep from his eyes and grabbing a mug from the cupboard.
“Nothing like a cuppa first thing,” Lucas muttered, pouring hot water into his mug. He turned, leaning against the counter, and nodded toward the terrace where Y/N and Chloe were mid-stretch, their workout mats rolled out on the tiled floor. “Well, they’re looking pretty good this morning, aren’t they?”
Harry chuckled, taking a sip of his tea. “Yeah, they’re putting in the work, that’s for sure.”
Lucas tilted his head, watching Chloe as she effortlessly moved through a set of lunges. “Chloe’s got some legs on her, mate. Proper strong. Bet she could kick a ball further than me.”
Harry snorted. “Wouldn’t be hard. Your kick’s shocking.”
Lucas smirked but didn’t argue, his eyes still on Chloe. “Fair play, though. She’s got this, like, natural confidence about her. Proper attractive, you know?”
Harry raised an eyebrow, hiding a grin behind his mug. “You’ve got it bad, haven’t you?”
“What can I say?” Lucas replied with a shrug, setting his mug down. “Anyway, enough about me. Did you sort things out with Y/N last night?”
Harry’s smile faltered, and he stared into his tea as if the answers might be swirling in the cup. “We talked,” he said slowly.
Lucas’s eyebrows shot up. “And? What happened?”
“She’s not happy, mate,” Harry admitted, leaning against the counter. “Asked me straight up if I liked Sophia. Told her I wanted to keep my options open.”
Lucas groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Oh, Harry. Why would you say that?”
“Because it’s the truth,” Harry said defensively. “I don’t want to lead her on if I’m not sure.”
“Right, but you’re not exactly making it easy for yourself, are you?” Lucas countered. “Y/N’s not the type to just sit around and wait for you to make up your mind. If anything, she’ll use this as fuel to move on.”
Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know. Chloe’s probably in her ear right now, telling her to forget about me.”
Lucas glanced back at the terrace, where Chloe and Y/N were laughing between stretches. “If she’s smart, she’ll listen. Chloe doesn’t mess about.”
Harry’s jaw tightened as he looked out at Y/N. She was glowing in the morning light, her hair pulled back and her smile wide as she joked with Chloe. “I just… I don’t know what to do, mate. I like her, but Sophia… she’s got this vibe, you know? Makes me wonder what else is out there.”
Lucas shook his head. “You’re playing with fire. If you’re not careful, you’re going to lose Y/N and not even get a chance with Sophia. Girls talk, mate. And no one likes a bloke who can’t make up his mind.”
Harry didn’t respond, his eyes fixed on Y/N as she stretched her arms above her head. The thought of her pulling away, of her laughter directed at someone else, left a sour taste in his mouth. He took another sip of tea, trying to shake the feeling.
“You’ve got to figure it out, Harry,” Lucas said, his tone serious. “Because right now, you’re playing a game you might not win.”
The sun blazed down on the villa as the Islanders gathered on the lawn, coffee cups in hand and nerves bubbling under the surface. In the center of the garden stood a brightly colored spinning wheel, its glossy paint glinting in the sunlight like a harbinger of chaos. The air hummed with a mix of anticipation and dread.
Y/N adjusted her sunglasses, leaning back lazily as Chloe leaned closer.
“I’m telling you now, this game is going to start World War Three,” Chloe muttered, her tone low but laced with amusement.
Y/N let out a small laugh, though her stomach was already knotting. Across the lawn, Harry was lounging on the beanbags, his body sprawled out casually as Sophia leaned in close, whispering something in his ear that made him grin.
“It’s 10 a.m., and the Islanders are already sweating. Not from the heat, though—oh no. This morning, we’ve gifted them a little something we like to call Lips Don’t Lie. Because nothing says ‘good morning’ like breaking hearts before brunch!”
“Here’s the deal: spin the wheel, land on ‘Snog,’ ‘Spill,’ or ‘Steal.’ Kiss someone, confess your darkest secret, or swipe a kiss from another Islander’s partner. Oh, and there’s a lovely stack of truths in those envelopes, just in case things weren’t messy enough.”
“Alright, Y/N,” Lucas called out with a cheeky grin. “You’re up first!”
The group erupted into chants, and Y/N stood, her shoulders squared as she approached the wheel. The handle felt cold under her fingertips as she spun it sharply, the clattering sound making her heart race.
It landed on ‘Spill.’
“Easy one to start with,” Chloe teased.
Lucas, practically vibrating with excitement, grabbed an envelope. “Alright, Y/N,” he said, his grin devilish. “If you had to recouple with someone other than Harry, who would it be?”
The crowd fell silent, all eyes on Y/N. She felt Harry’s gaze burning into her, but she kept her expression cool.
She tapped her chin thoughtfully, dragging it out. “Hmm… Lucas,” she said finally, turning to him with a sly smile. “You always know how to make me laugh.”
Laughter rippled through the group as Lucas dramatically clutched his chest. “My dream finally comes true.”
“Y/N keeping it light and breezy. But don’t worry, Harry—Lucas is just here for the bants. Or is he?”
Harry’s jaw clenched, his mug of tea now forgotten on the table beside him.
“Your turn, mate!” Callum called, his grin wide.
Harry stood, brushing off invisible lint from his shorts before giving the wheel a forceful spin. When it landed on ‘Snog,’ the group erupted with cheers and whistles.
Sophia’s eyes lit up before Harry even moved. Without a moment’s hesitation, he crossed the garden and kissed her, slow enough to make the others holler in delight.
Y/N felt Chloe nudge her hard. “Don’t react,” Chloe hissed. “He’s doing it to get a rise out of you.”
Y/N tilted her head, feigning indifference. “Couldn’t care less,” she said smoothly, though her nails dug into her palms.
“Oh, Harry. If this were chess, you’d be playing checkers. Y/N? Ice cold.”
Sophia’s turn was next, and the wheel landed on ‘Spill.’ She sauntered over to the stack of envelopes, picking one like it held her winning lottery numbers.
Tom read aloud, “Sophia, who do you think is your biggest competition in the villa?”
Sophia smirked, her gaze drifting lazily over the girls before landing squarely on Y/N.
“Y/N,” she said confidently. “She’s stunning, and, let’s face it, everyone seems to fancy her.”
The group erupted with laughter and gasps, while Y/N shot Sophia a sweet, unfazed smile. “Aw, thanks, babe,” she said lightly.
“Sophia, dishing out backhanded compliments like cocktails. But let’s be honest, she’s right. Y/N’s still the main event.”
Max spun the wheel next, landing on ‘Snog.’ Without missing a beat, he turned to Y/N. “Sorry, Harry,” he said with a mischievous grin before kissing her, lingering just long enough to turn the group rowdy.
When Y/N sat back down, Chloe clapped her on the back. “Legend.”
Harry’s expression didn’t flinch, but his eyes burned into Y/N’s as she casually sipped her water.
Finally, Tom pulled an envelope from the truth pile, holding it up dramatically. “Time for a big one!” he announced.
The group quieted as Tom read aloud, “One Islander confessed: ‘I still think about kissing Y/N.’”
The garden froze.
Amber’s mouth dropped. “Who said that?!”
The boys erupted into teasing accusations, whistles flying as Lucas turned to Harry with a smirk. “C’mon, mate. You’ve got guilty written all over your face.”
Harry’s jaw tightened as he glared at Lucas. “Didn’t hear my name, did you?”
“Oh, Harry. Denial isn’t just a river in Egypt, and your face says it all.”
Chloe leaned into Y/N’s ear, whispering, “You’ve got him rattled.”
Y/N shrugged, her voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “Not my problem.”
“Whew, what a morning! Secrets revealed, kisses stolen, and Harry’s mood hitting boiling point. And we haven’t even had lunch yet. Buckle up, folks—this villa’s about to erupt.”
The villa was quiet after the chaos of the game, with most of the Islanders scattered in their own corners, trying to digest the truths and dares that had been laid bare. Y/N was perched on the edge of the terrace, her foot tapping against the ground as her mind replayed every moment of the game—Harry’s snog with Sophia, the truth bomb about someone still thinking of kissing her, and the way Harry’s eyes had burned into her the entire time.
She heard footsteps approaching and sighed. She didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.
“Not now, Harry,” she muttered, her tone tired but edged with annoyance.
“Yeah, well, I think now’s the perfect time,” Harry said, his voice low but charged. He moved closer, stopping just a step behind her.
Y/N whipped around, her frustration spilling over. “What do you want, Harry? Haven’t you had enough fun for one day?”
His jaw tensed. “I came to talk because clearly, we need to. But if you’re going to start throwing digs, I can walk right back out.”
“Oh, how generous of you,” she shot back, crossing her arms. “Do you want a medal for gracing me with your presence after ignoring me all day? Or is this just damage control because you know how bad you looked out there?”
Harry’s brows knitted together, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “You’re acting like I’m the only one who played the game! What about you? Max kissed you, and you didn’t seem too bothered about that.”
“Don’t you dare,” Y/N said, stepping closer as her voice dropped dangerously. “Max kissed me because you made it very clear where you stand today. I didn’t ask for it, but I wasn’t about to stop him just to protect your fragile ego.”
“Fragile ego?” Harry repeated, his voice rising. “Do you even hear yourself right now? You’re the one who’s been sulking and throwing me daggers all day, acting like I’ve done something unforgivable when all I did was follow the rules of a stupid game!”
“Stupid game?” she fired back, her tone cutting. “So kissing Sophia—grabbing her like you couldn’t wait to get your hands on her—that was just for the rules? Funny how you didn’t hesitate even for a second.”
Harry took a step closer, their faces now inches apart. “And what about you, huh? Smiling and laughing with Max like you were enjoying every second of it? Don’t act like you’re above playing games, Y/N.”
Her heart was pounding, her anger mixing with something else entirely—something she didn’t want to name. “You don’t get it, do you?” she said, her voice breaking slightly. “I didn’t want to play any games. I just wanted to feel like you cared. Like I wasn’t just… replaceable.”
Harry’s expression softened for a moment, but the tension between them was still thick. “You’re not replaceable,” he said, his voice quieter but no less intense. “You think I don’t care about you? I can’t even look at you without losing my head, Y/N. And yeah, I messed up today, but don’t for a second think that means I don’t want you.”
She blinked, caught off guard by the rawness in his voice. “Then why—”
Before she could finish, Harry reached out, cupping her face in his hands and pulling her into a kiss. It wasn’t soft or tentative—it was full of all the anger, frustration, and desire that had been constructing between them.
For a second, she resisted, her hands pushing lightly against his chest, but then she gave in, gripping his shirt as she kissed him back with equal intensity.
The world seemed to blur around them, the only sounds their ragged breaths and the faint hum of the villa in the distance. When they finally broke apart, both were breathing hard, their foreheads resting against each other.
“That’s why,” Harry said, his voice rough.
Y/N swallowed, her emotions a whirlwind. “This doesn’t fix anything,” she whispered, though her hands were still clutching his shirt.
“I know,” he replied, his thumb brushing against her cheek. “But it’s the truth.”
She pulled back slightly, her eyes searching his. “Then prove it, Harry. Because I’m not doing this halfway.”
He nodded, his gaze steady. “I will.”
As the distant chatter of the other Islanders drifted toward them, Y/N stepped back, her walls slowly rebuilding. “Good,” she said quietly before turning and walking back inside, leaving Harry standing there, watching her go.
“Well, if we were playing ‘Lips Don’t Lie,’ those two just failed spectacularly. But will Harry make good on his promise, or is Y/N setting herself up for more heartbreak? Stay tuned, folks. It’s about to get messy.”
Author's note: Hello lovies ❤️, this is it! The last part of Love Island. It's been a journey! I've been so so happy with all the reactions and reading ur opinions abt it! I hope you all like the end!
⭐️ Please consider joining my Patreon (there are much much more stories) -> Patreon
⭐️ Please consider submitting your one shot request -> Forms
⭐️ Love Island masterlist -> ML
Sunlight filtered into the villa, casting a soft glow over the mess of pillows and blankets on the common room couch where Harry and Y/N had spent the night.
Y/N stirred first, blinking against the morning light, only to realize she was still wrapped in Harry’s arms. His hand was resting on her waist, holding her close like he was afraid she’d disappear if he let go. His slow, steady breathing tickled the back of her neck.
For the first time in days, she felt… calm.
She carefully turned in his embrace, taking in his sleep-softened features—the tousled hair, the faint crease between his brows, the slight part in his lips. He looked peaceful, like none of the drama from last night had reached him in his dreams.
She reached up, brushing a stray curl from his forehead, and that was all it took. His eyes fluttered open, hazy with sleep but locking onto her immediately. A slow, lazy smile spread across his face.
“Mornin’,” he murmured, voice thick and gravelly.
Y/N felt her heart stutter in her chest. “Morning.”
Harry exhaled deeply, stretching slightly but keeping her close. “You stayed.”
Her lips twitched. “You think I was gonna leave you after everything?”
His hand slid up her back, fingertips tracing light patterns against her skin. “Would’ve chased after you if you did.”
She laughed softly, but there was something deeper behind her smile—something warm and real.
The moment was too perfect to ruin with words, so she didn’t say anything, just nestled closer, pressing her cheek to his chest as his arms tightened around her.
For a while, they just lay there, wrapped up in the quiet of the morning, pretending the rest of the villa didn’t exist.
But, of course, the villa always found a way to interrupt.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Lucas muttered as he sat up on the other couch, rubbing his face. “Some of us were tryna sleep without being blinded by all this romance, yeah?”
Y/N let out a small laugh, burying her face in Harry’s chest as he threw a pillow at Lucas. “You’re just bitter ‘cause no one wants to cuddle you, mate.”
Lucas smirked. “Oh, don’t worry about me, bro. I was plenty warm last night.”
Before anyone could question him, another phone buzzed, followed by a loud, high-pitched gasp.
All heads turned toward the villa entrance, where Sophia stood, holding her phone in both hands. A smug smile played on her lips as she looked around at the Islanders, letting the suspense build.
Then, in the most dramatic voice possible, she read aloud:
"Islanders, it’s time for a dumping. The girl with the most votes at the end of today… will be leaving the villa immediately."
The room went silent.
Y/N’s stomach clenched.
Harry’s grip on her tightened.
Ian’s voice, as always, broke the tension:
"Welp, looks like somebody’s about to get their suitcase packed. But the real question is… will they be walking out alone?"
The tension in the villa was unbearable. Even as the sun shone brightly over the terrace, an ominous weight lingered in the air, pressing down on all of them. Conversations were quieter, laughter forced. No one wanted to say it out loud, but they were all thinking the same thing—someone was leaving today.
And it could be Y/N.
She sat on the sun lounger, legs curled up beneath her, staring at the infinity pool without really seeing it. Her stomach churned with nerves, a mixture of dread and helplessness settling deep in her bones.
Harry sat beside her, knee bouncing restlessly. He hadn’t let her out of his sight all morning, his protective energy tangible, even in the silence.
“Talk to me,” he finally said, voice low. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
Y/N exhaled, rubbing her arms. “I don’t know. Just… thinking.”
“About what?”
“About how quickly everything can change,” she admitted. “Yesterday, we were happy. And now—” She swallowed hard. “I might be leaving.”
Harry’s jaw clenched. “No. Don’t say that.”
She turned her head to him, giving a sad smile. “We don’t know what’s going to happen, Harry. I have to be realistic.”
His brows furrowed, frustration flickering across his features. “Realistic?” He shook his head. “Sod being realistic. We’ve got something real, don’t we?”
“Yeah,” she whispered. “We do.”
“Then let’s focus on that.” His fingers brushed against hers, gentle but firm. “No matter what happens, we’re in this together.”
Y/N wanted to believe him. She did believe him. But the fear was still there, gnawing at her, whispering worst-case scenarios in her ear.
Before she could say anything, Chloe appeared, marching towards them with determination. “Right, enough moping. We’re not sitting around acting like she’s already gone.”
Harry smirked slightly. “That was dramatic.”
Chloe shot him a look. “Not as dramatic as you pouting like a lovesick puppy all morning.”
Y/N laughed under her breath, and Chloe grinned, pleased. “See? That’s better. No more doom and gloom. Until we get a text, we’re carrying on as normal.”
Harry nodded, squeezing Y/N’s hand. “She’s right.”
Y/N took a deep breath, pushing away the nerves. Normal. Okay. I can do normal.
She wasn’t going to let this day be ruined by fear. Not yet.
Because for now, she was still here. And she wasn’t ready to say goodbye.
The villa was still buzzing with nervous energy, but that didn’t stop production from throwing in another challenge—because why let them sit in peace when they could stir the pot instead?
The Islanders stood in their swimsuits by the pool, the sun beating down on them as the challenge setup was revealed. A giant inflatable heart sat in the middle of the garden, with a runway leading up to it. Next to it, a podium with a very smug-looking Callum, who cleared his throat before reading out the rules.
"Alright, Islanders, it’s time for a challenge that’s guaranteed to get pulses racing. Welcome to… ‘The Heat Is On!’”
The group cheered, but Y/N could already sense the impending chaos.
"Here’s how it works: Each of you will take turns pulling a card that gives you a steamy dare to complete. It could be a kiss, a sexy dance, or even revealing a juicy secret about someone in the villa. But be warned—some of these dares might land you in very hot water. Now, let’s get to it, shall we?”
Lucas immediately rubbed his hands together. “Oh, this is gonna be a madness.”
The girls took their seats on the benches while the boys stood in front of them, ready for the first dare.
Callum reached into the bowl first and pulled out a card, chuckling before her read it out loud.
"Chloe, give a lap dance to the person you fancy the most in the villa."
Chloe’s face lit up, and she immediately turned to Lucas. “Right, sit down, you.”
The Islanders erupted into cheers as Lucas plopped onto the chair, spreading his arms out smugly. “Go on then, don’t be shy.”
Chloe strutted toward him, rolling her shoulders back as she flicked her hair dramatically. The second the music kicked in, she moved, swaying her hips before dropping low between his legs. Lucas’ mouth fell open, his hands gripping his knees as Chloe ran her hands over his chest before whispering something in his ear that made his jaw go slack.
“Oi, that’s enough of that,” Callum laughed. “Get a room, you two!”
Lucas, clearly flustered, stood up, grabbed Chloe’s face, and kissed her full on the lips, pulling her close as the villa erupted in cheers.
Ian’s voice boomed through the speakers. “Well, well, well! Didn’t need a dare for that, did ya, Lucas?”
Chloe grinned as she walked back to the bench, and Y/N nudged her. “That was something.”
“Babe, I don’t do things by halves.”
Next up Callum, pulled a card and smirked before reading it aloud.
"Harry — Kiss the last person you had a dirty dream about."
The boys started hollering immediately, and Y/N felt her stomach drop as Callum handed the card to Harry.
“Oh, this is easy,” Lucas teased. “We all know who he’s picking.”
Harry shot him a warning look before turning toward Y/N. His eyes met hers, and her breath hitched.
Before she could react, Harry stepped forward, closing the distance between them. He reached for her waist, his fingers curling against her skin as he leaned in. The world blurred around her as his lips met hers—soft at first, almost teasing, before he deepened it, making her head spin.
Y/N melted into him, her hands sliding up to his shoulders as the cheers around them turned into a distant hum.
“Okay, okay, we get it, you fancy each other!” Amber laughed, clapping her hands.
Harry pulled away slowly, his forehead resting against Y/N’s for just a second before he stepped back. His hand lingered at her waist, his thumb brushing over her skin, and she shivered at the feeling.
Ian's voice cut in: “And here I was thinking he might pick Callum. Shocked, really.”
Callum turned to the group, barely able to contain his excitement. “Alright. The next dare is… Sophia, give the steamiest lap dance to the Islander you fancy the most.”
The villa exploded with shouts and laughter.
The reaction was instant.
“Oh, this is mad,” Callum wheezed.
Lucas howled with laughter. “This is about to be painful.”
All eyes flickered to Sophia, who plastered on a smug expression, even though everyone could see the wheels turning in her head.
For a second, she hesitated—because this was risky.
But then she flipped her hair over her shoulder, squared her shoulders, and strutted over to Harry.
Y/N, sitting cross-legged on the daybed, tensed, but she didn’t react. She didn’t need to. Because as soon as Sophia got close, Harry leaned back slightly, arms crossing over his chest.
When Sophia placed her hands on his shoulders, Harry let out a sharp laugh.
“Nah,” he said flatly, shaking his head. “I’m good, babe.”
The atmosphere shifted instantly.
Sophia froze.
The reaction from the villa was immediate—Lucas literally choked on his drink, Callum smacked his own forehead, and Amber was laughing.
Y/N felt her stomach flip at the sheer rejection on Sophia’s face.
But to her credit, Sophia recovered quickly, forcing a tight smile. “Alright,” she said breezily, flicking her hair back. “No worries.”
Then, in an attempt to save face, she turned to Callum instead.
The moment she moved towards him, Callum’s hands shot up defensively. “Nope! Keep me out of this.”
Ian’s voice cut through the villa speakers.
"Well, well, well… talk about a lap dance going horribly wrong. That’s two strikes, Sophia. Might want to cut your losses before you get a third."
Sophia forced a laugh, waving it off like she wasn’t absolutely mortified, before settling for Tom—who, to his credit, let it happen, but not without pulling the most awkward, stiff-body reaction ever.
The moment the dare was over, Sophia practically ran back to her seat.
The villa was still losing it, but Y/N couldn’t even enjoy it because all she could think about was the way Harry had shut it down instantly.
And when her eyes flickered to him, he was already looking at her.
His gaze was steady, like he wanted her to know—
There was never a choice.
It was always her.
Callum, still laughing from the madness of the game, held up his hands. “Right, right—that’s it, game over!” he announced, still grinning. “You lot need to start getting ready for tonight, and something tells me this is gonna be a big one.”
The energy shifted instantly. The challenge had been fun, full of shocking kisses, brutal rejections, and wild dares, but now? Now, the reality of the night ahead settled in.
Y/N barely heard the chatter around her as everyone began moving toward the villa. She felt the warmth of Harry’s hand brush against hers, lingering for just a second longer than necessary before he pulled away.
“Buzzing for the ceremony?” Lucas teased, slinging an arm around Chloe as they made their way inside.
Chloe rolled her eyes. “Buzzing? I feel ill, mate.”
Amber groaned. “I hate the waiting. Why do they always drag it out? Just tell us who’s getting dumped and put us out of our misery.”
“No one’s getting dumped yet,” Tom said, adjusting his mic pack. “Voting’s still gotta happen.”
Y/N swallowed hard, but Chloe, ever in tune with her emotions, gave her a reassuring nudge. “Come on, babe,” she murmured. “Let’s get ready.”
As they stepped into the dressing room, the villa’s buzzing energy dulled into something heavier, something more uncertain.
The fun was over.
Tonight, everything was about to change.
The villa was alive with the sounds of everyone getting ready—hairdryers whirring, perfume being spritzed, the occasional burst of laughter or nervous chatter—but somehow, Y/N and Harry had managed to steal a moment away from it all.
She stood on the balcony just outside the dressing room, the warm evening air brushing against her skin as she stared out at the softly lit garden. Everything felt different tonight.
She didn’t hear Harry approach until his arms wrapped around her waist from behind, pulling her back against his chest. “You alright?” he murmured, his lips brushing lightly against the shell of her ear.
Y/N exhaled, her hands instinctively resting over his. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I feel… uneasy and I don’t know if I’m ready for it.”
Harry turned her gently so she was facing him. He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his touch lingering. “I know what you mean,” he said, searching her eyes. “But I don’t want you overthinking tonight, alright? No matter what happens, I’ve got you.”
She let out a small, almost disbelieving laugh. “You say that, but—”
Harry cut her off by cupping her face, his thumb tracing softly along her jaw. “I mean it,” he said firmly. “I’m done letting things come between us. No games, no doubts. Just you and me, yeah?”
Y/N felt her heart squeeze, overwhelmed by the intensity in his gaze. The way he looked at her—as if she was the only thing that mattered in the world—made her chest ache.
She nodded, barely able to find her voice. “Yeah,” she whispered.
Harry smiled, slow and warm, before leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her lips. It wasn’t rushed or desperate like before—this was something deeper, something that felt like a promise.
Y/N melted into him, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as he deepened the kiss, his hands sliding down to rest on her hips. For a moment, the tension of the night ahead didn’t exist—there was only this, only them.
When they finally pulled apart, Harry rested his forehead against hers, exhaling softly. “Let’s go knock ‘em dead, yeah?”
Y/N smiled, feeling lighter than she had in days. “Yeah.”
Hand in hand, they stepped back inside, ready to face whatever came next.
The Islanders gathered around the firepit, the usual playful atmosphere nowhere to be found. Tension crackled in the air, heavy and suffocating. Everyone was on edge, shifting uncomfortably in their seats as they exchanged glances.
Y/N sat beside Chloe, her fingers laced tightly in her lap to keep from fidgeting. Harry stood behind her, his arms crossed, his jaw set as he scanned the group. Something felt off tonight.
The firelight flickered across their faces as the familiar voice of Ian Sterling broke through the silence, addressing the viewers at home.
"Tonight, our Islanders are about to learn their fate. The public has been voting, and let me tell ya… it’s about to get spicy. Some will be safe, but for one unlucky soul, their time in the villa is up. Let’s see who’s about to get a one-way ticket back to reality, shall we?"
The Islanders barely had a second to process that before a phone dinged.
The group froze.
Sophia, sitting with her legs crossed confidently, reached for her phone. She smirked as she read aloud:
"Islanders, the public has been voting for the most compatible couple. The results are in. The couples with the fewest votes are now vulnerable. The least compatible individual will be dumped from the villa tonight."
Gasps rippled through the group, and Y/N felt her stomach drop.
Lucas raked a hand through his hair. “Bloody hell…”
Another phone dinged.
This time, it was Amber’s. She inhaled sharply before reading:
"The following couples are safe and will remain in the villa:"
Everyone held their breath.
"Chloe and Lucas."
A wave of relief passed over them as Chloe clutched Lucas’s arm. He kissed her cheek, and they both exhaled.
"Max and Amber."
Amber clapped a hand over her heart, while Max let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head.
"Tom and Georgia."
Tom squeezed Georgia’s leg, while she simply smirked, looking entirely too self-satisfied.
The silence stretched unbearably before Amber continued.
"That means the remaining Islanders are at risk of being dumped."
Harry, Y/N, Sophia, and Callum.
Y/N’s ears rang as the reality of the situation crashed down on her. She felt Chloe grip her hand tightly.
Another phone dinged.
This time, it was in Y/N’s lap. Her stomach turned to stone.
Her fingers trembled as she picked it up, swallowing past the lump in her throat before reading the words aloud.
"The individual with the least amount of votes and therefore the next Islander to be dumped from the villa is…"
The pause was excruciating.
She forced herself to look up, meeting Harry’s intense gaze. His green eyes burned into hers, filled with something between desperation and defiance.
She inhaled sharply, then read the name.
The moment Y/N read the text, it was as if the world around her had gone silent. The words hung in the air like a death sentence.
"The individual with the least amount of votes and therefore the next Islander to be dumped from the villa is… Y/N."
For a second, no one moved. No one breathed.
Then—
"What?!" Chloe’s voice rang out, breaking the stillness like glass shattering.
The firepit erupted into chaos.
Chloe was on her feet instantly, eyes wide with disbelief. "Are you having a laugh?!"
Lucas swore under his breath. "Nah, this is bollocks."
Amber blinked rapidly, as if trying to process what she’d just heard. Even Callum, who had been sitting stiffly, let out a breath of frustration. "This don’t make any sense."
But Y/N barely heard them. Her vision blurred.
Her stomach twisted painfully as the realization hit her like a freight train.
This was it. Her time was up.
Harry was already looking at her. His jaw was clenched, his hands in fists at his sides, as though he was physically restraining himself from doing something reckless.
She exhaled shakily, gripping onto his shirt.
“I don’t want to leave you alone,” she admitted quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.
It was the first thing she’d said since the text.
Harry turned to face her, his movements sharp, deliberate. He cupped her face between his hands like he needed to anchor her, to make sure she heard him properly.
"Then don’t."
Her eyes flickered up to his, wide with confusion. “What?”
His expression softened, but his voice was firm, unwavering.
"If you go, I go."
The words hit her like lightning to the chest.
The group erupted around them—gasps, exclamations, Chloe muttering, "Oh my God," under her breath. Lucas dragged a hand over his face, looking like he was witnessing actual madness.
"But you—" Y/N started, but he cut her off.
"I’m leaving with you," Harry said, as if it were the simplest decision in the world.
Sophia scoffed, folding her arms. “Oh, give me a break.”
Amber turned to her with a withering look. "Sophia, do us all a favor and shut up for once."
Harry didn’t even acknowledge them. His eyes never left Y/N’s.
“Tell me I’m wrong,” he said softly, challenging her. “Tell me I’m making a mistake, and I’ll stay.”
Y/N stared at him, stunned. Her heart was slamming against her ribs, her thoughts a mess.
This wasn’t how she thought things would go. She was meant to leave alone.
Not with him.
Her throat tightened. Everything in her was screaming at her to take his hand and just run.
Chloe let out a short, breathless laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. “Oh, this is proper Love Island history, this.”
And then—
Ian’s voice, as smug as ever, echoed through the speakers:
"Well, well, well… Looks like someone’s about to leave this villa, but they sure as hell won’t be walking out alone."
A shrill ping rang through the tense air, pulling everyone’s attention back to Y/N’s phone.
Her hands trembled as she unlocked it, the final blow already expected.
She swallowed hard before reading aloud, her voice barely steady:
"Y/N, pack your bags, say your goodbyes and leave the villa . #EndOfTheRoad #GoodbyesAreHard"
A fresh wave of emotions crashed over her.
This was it.
The villa was silent except for the sound of a few sniffles. The girls looked devastated, Chloe shaking her head like she still couldn’t believe this was happening. The boys looked pissed off, like they were seconds away from flipping the firepit over.
But it was Harry’s reaction that hit her the most.
His grip tightened around her hand—firm, certain. Like there was no force on this Earth that could pull him away from her.
She exhaled, nodding. "Let’s go."
And so they did.
The walk back to the villa was heavy, silent. Everyone trailed behind them, watching as Y/N led the way into the bedroom.
Chloe was the first to throw her arms around her. "I can't believe this," she murmured into her hair, her voice thick with emotion.
Y/N held on tight, soaking in every last second. "I love you."
Chloe let out a watery laugh. "Not me cryin' like a little bitch."
The other girls followed suit. But Y/N wasn’t paying them any mind.
Because when she turned around, Harry was packing.
His suitcase was open, his clothes being thrown in haphazardly.
It took a moment for her to process. And then it hit her.
She stepped toward him, eyes wide. "Harry, are you—"
He didn’t even look up. "Course I am."
Before she could react, another voice cut through the room.
"Are you actually serious?"
Sophia.
Y/N tensed as she turned, watching as Sophia pushed through the doorway. The rest of the group instinctively moved aside, giving her space.
Harry finally looked up, unimpressed. “What do you want?”
Sophia folded her arms tightly, her expression unreadable. But the way her fingers dug into her own skin gave her away—she was desperate.
"You leaving puts me in danger," she blurted out. "I could get dumped next!"
Harry let out a bitter laugh. "That's not my problem."
Sophia stepped closer, lowering her voice like she thought it would make a difference. "You never even gave me a chance, Harry. Not a real one. And now you're just—just throwing away everything we could've had for her?" She threw a sharp glare toward Y/N.
Harry stilled.
And then, he looked her straight in the eyes. Cold, unwavering.
"I never wanted to know you, Sophia," he said simply. "There was no need."
Sophia sucked in a sharp breath, as if he had physically hit her.
"And before you start blaming everyone else," he continued, stepping around her, "just remember—this is all on you."
He slung his bag over his shoulder and reached for Y/N’s suitcase, pulling it up as well before looking back at her.
"Ready?"
Y/N nodded, her chest tight, emotions threatening to overwhelm her.
Harry took her hand again, leading her through the villa one last time.
By the front door of the villa, the Islanders gathered, forming a tight circle around Y/N and Harry.
It was bittersweet—every tear, every whispered goodbye.
Chloe was the first to wrap her arms around Y/N again, holding on like she never wanted to let go. “These are happy tears,” she sniffled, pulling back just enough to look Y/N in the eyes. “Because you found what you came here for, babe. And that’s love.”
Y/N smiled, eyes glossy. “I really did.”
Lucas turned to Harry, gripping his shoulders before pulling him into a proper hug. “You’re doin’ the right thing, mate,” he murmured, patting his back. “Proud of you.”
Harry nodded, swallowing thickly. No words were needed.
One by one, they hugged, laughed softly through the tears, whispered their last words to Y/N and Harry before pulling back.
All except for Sophia and Georgia.
They stood off to the side, watching with unreadable expressions, but neither said a word.
Harry didn’t spare them a glance.
With one final deep breath, he turned to Y/N and offered his hand.
She took it without hesitation.
And together—with smiles on their faces, hands intertwined, and hearts steady—they walked out of the villa.
Y/N x Professor Harry Styles share a secret passion that could destroy them both. Crossing the line means risking everything.
Author's note: Hello! As you know Love Island is coming to an end. So, I decided to post the first part of the Crave just so none of you run out of reading material for this weekend after the last chapter is posted on Friday. Let me know what you think!
📌 Please consider joining my Patreon -> Patreon
📌 Please consider submitting your one shot request -> Forms
The wooden doors of the lecture hall groaned softly as Y/N slipped inside, her movements quick but measured. She’d never been the type to enjoy being late—especially to his class—but today, her mind was elsewhere. She found a seat near the back, heart still fluttering from the hurried walk across campus.
Professor Harry Styles hadn’t started speaking yet, standing at the front of the room, quietly observing the room. His presence alone commanded attention—a stillness that felt more intense than the bustling energy of the students around him. Even from where Y/N sat, she could feel the weight of it.
She swallowed, her pulse thrumming beneath her skin as she pulled out her notebook, stealing a glance toward him. He didn’t seem to notice her entrance, his gaze fixed on something—or someone—else. Yet, something in the air made her feel as though he had seen her the moment she walked in. He always noticed.
Y/N shook off the thought and refocused, gripping her pen, trying to quiet the thoughts stirring in her mind. It had only been a week since that strange encounter in the library, where they had exchanged a few words—polite, distant, yet there was an undertone she couldn’t quite place.
Harry’s voice broke through the silence, low and deliberate. “Today’s topic is boundaries.”
Her breath caught. Of course, it would be.
He turned toward the whiteboard, writing the word in bold strokes. It was simple, and yet it felt heavy with meaning as the chalk scratched across the surface. Y/N shifted in her seat, wondering if he knew how that word lingered between them, unspoken.
The lecture carried on, but Y/N found it impossible to focus. Harry’s voice was calm and steady, the kind of voice that demanded you listen, that pulled you in even if you didn’t want to be drawn so close. She kept her gaze low, pretending to scribble notes, but every time his voice dipped into something more intense, she felt a pull in her chest.
Her eyes flicked up briefly, catching the way his hand moved across the desk, the strength in the veins of his forearms as he gestured toward the board. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing tanned skin, and Y/N had to force her gaze away before anyone noticed.
What bothered her most was how unaware he seemed of the effect he had. There was no smirk, no glance her way, no sign that he even remembered her as more than just another student. But that didn’t stop the feeling that coiled in her stomach every time they were in the same room.
When the class ended, Y/N was quick to gather her things, eager to escape the charged air of the lecture hall. She was almost at the door when she heard his voice again.
“Miss Y/L/N.”
She froze, heart racing. Slowly, she turned around, her hands clutching her bag strap a little too tightly. “Yes, Professor?”
Harry stood at the front of the room, still sorting through papers, but his tone was casual, indifferent even. “I’d like to discuss your last paper, if you have a moment.”
There was nothing strange about the request, nothing inappropriate about it. But her stomach twisted all the same.
She nodded and walked back down the aisle, each step heavier than the last. By the time she reached his desk, the room was empty, leaving only the two of them. Harry’s attention seemed to be fixed on the papers in front of him, his brow furrowed in concentration.
He looked up only briefly, his gaze flicking to hers before returning to the papers. “You’ve written well,” he began, his voice as measured as ever. “But I can tell your focus has been... divided lately.”
Y/N’s heart stuttered. Was it a critique? Or something else? She licked her lips nervously. “I’m sorry, I’ve just had a lot on my mind.”
Harry hummed softly, almost as if in thought, his eyes still on the paper. “Understandable,” he said, flipping a page. “But I’d hate to see your potential go unrealized.”
The statement hung between them, strangely intimate for what should have been a routine discussion. There was no accusation in his tone, nothing that suggested he had noticed more than just her academic performance. And yet, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that his words carried weight beyond their surface.
“I’ll do better,” she said, though her voice was softer than she intended.
Harry finally looked up again, his eyes meeting hers with a steady gaze that sent a chill down her spine. For a moment, she wondered if she was imagining it—the tension, the unspoken things between them. He seemed so composed, so unaffected, while her own heart raced in her chest.
“I’m sure you will,” he replied simply, his tone polite, neutral.
And just like that, the moment passed. Whatever she thought she might have seen in his gaze was gone, leaving her feeling foolish for reading too much into it. He turned his attention back to the papers, clearly dismissing her, and she let out a quiet breath, relieved and yet disappointed at the same time.
“Thank you, Professor,” she said softly before turning to leave, feeling his presence like a shadow behind her.
As she walked out of the room, her mind raced with questions. Had she misread him all along? Or was there something hidden beneath his calm exterior, something darker that he kept carefully veiled? She couldn’t be sure.
All she knew was that whatever it was between them—it was far from over.
Y/N’s footsteps echoed in the empty hallway, her mind buzzing with the memory of Harry’s gaze. She should have felt relieved that he hadn’t called her out for anything too specific, yet that brief exchange had left her unsettled.
Her phone buzzed, breaking her thoughts. She fished it out of her pocket, glancing at the screen: a message from her best friend, Liv.
"How was class? Any more moments with Mr. Unattainable?" Liv had a knack for teasing her about Harry, ever since Y/N had once, in a moment of weakness, mentioned how attractive he was.
Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn't help the small smile tugging at her lips. "Class was fine. No, stop exaggerating," she typed back quickly, though her fingers hesitated. There was no way she was about to confess how his voice had almost made her heart stop when he’d called her name.
The truth was, she didn’t understand it herself. She had no reason to be so affected by him—he was her professor, after all. Yet, ever since that first class, there had been something about Harry Styles that lingered with her long after the lecture ended. The quiet control he exuded, the way his words dripped with intellect and confidence, how he seemed perfectly oblivious to how his presence could command a room without effort.
She let out a frustrated sigh, tucking her phone away. This was ridiculous. She wasn’t some schoolgirl with a crush on her teacher. But she couldn’t deny the fact that when she thought about Harry, it wasn’t just admiration for his mind or his teaching methods. There was a physical awareness too, something magnetic that made her pulse quicken whenever he was near.
By the time Y/N made it to the campus café, her mind was still spinning with thoughts she shouldn’t be having. She grabbed a coffee, needing the warmth and caffeine to shake the lingering unease from her bones.
As she settled into a corner booth, opening her laptop to review her notes, her gaze kept drifting toward the window. She didn’t expect to see anyone familiar, but every once in a while, her thoughts circled back to him.
Was it wrong? Was it really just in her head? That gaze earlier—it had felt like something. Or was she reading too much into it, twisting normal interactions into something they weren’t? It didn’t help that Liv’s constant teasing about “Professor Dreamy” had planted ideas in her head she couldn’t quite shake.
Just then, a shadow moved across her table, and Y/N’s heart lurched into her throat. She looked up, eyes widening slightly in surprise.
Harry Styles stood before her, his expression unreadable.
"Mind if I join you?" His voice was smooth, yet his tone made it sound like more of a statement than a question.
Y/N’s pulse stuttered as she nodded, forcing herself to appear calm, even as her mind raced. What was he doing here? It was a large campus—he could’ve gone anywhere—but here he was, sliding into the seat across from her with an ease that both unsettled and intrigued her.
Harry set his coffee down and leaned back in the chair, his presence overwhelming even in this casual setting. His eyes, a deep shade of green, flicked to her laptop briefly before returning to hers, as if assessing something.
“You looked like you were in deep thought,” he remarked, a faint smile playing at the edge of his lips. It was a subtle observation, but his gaze lingered a fraction longer than necessary, making her feel exposed.
Y/N cleared her throat, trying to gather her thoughts. “Just catching up on notes,” she said, forcing a smile. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
Harry’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, but there was something about the way he leaned forward slightly that made her heart skip. “I frequent this place often,” he said simply. “Though I don’t usually run into my students outside of class.”
There it was again—that carefully controlled neutrality in his tone. She couldn’t tell if he was making small talk or implying something deeper. It was maddening.
“I guess it’s a coincidence,” Y/N replied, trying to keep her voice steady. But she could feel it—the undercurrent of tension pulling them closer, threading through the seemingly innocent conversation.
Harry raised an eyebrow, watching her with a quiet intensity. “Do you believe in coincidences?”
His question hung in the air between them, heavy with implication. Y/N opened her mouth to respond, but no words came. There was something about the way he was looking at her—like he was testing her, challenging her to acknowledge the unspoken tension that had been simmering ever since that first glance in class.
Before she could formulate an answer, Harry’s phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at it briefly, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face before he stood.
“Another time, perhaps,” he said smoothly, gathering his things. “I’ll see you in class, Miss Y/L/N.”
And just like that, he was gone, leaving Y/N sitting alone, her heart pounding and her mind whirling with questions. The conversation had been brief, but it was enough to set her on edge.
What did he mean by coincidences? Was there more to that question than she realized?
Y/N stared at the empty seat across from her, frustration and curiosity churning inside her. She had no idea what game Harry Styles was playing, or if there was even a game at all.
But something told her this wasn’t the last time their paths would cross outside the lecture hall.
Y/N sat in her apartment that evening, nervously adjusting her costume in front of the mirror. She and Liv had been planning to attend a Halloween party on campus for weeks, and Y/N had finally settled on a daring outfit: a sleek, black cat costume that hugged her curves in all the right places. The fitted bodysuit clung to her figure, the fabric shimmering slightly under the light, with a daringly low neckline that accentuated her collarbone and added a touch of allure.
The suit left her legs bare, the material stopping just below her hips, showcasing her smooth, toned thighs. She wore black heels that elongated her legs, making them appear endless and adding a sultry confidence to her stride. Each step felt powerful, her high heels clicking against the floor, a stark contrast to the soft fabric of her costume.
To complete the look, she adorned herself with a pair of playful cat ears and a thin tail that swayed behind her, giving her a playful edge. Y/N could see herself in the mirror, her reflection bold and unashamed. She felt good in her skin, caught up in the thrill of the night ahead—one filled with dancing, laughter, and maybe a little mischief.
The thought of running into Harry flickered briefly in her mind, but she brushed it aside, determined to enjoy the party without overthinking her attire. Tonight was about having fun and celebrating, not getting tangled up in complicated feelings.
“Are you ready yet?” Liv called from the living room, her voice slightly slurred from the pre-party drinks. “We’re going to be late!”
“Almost!” Y/N called back, taking one last look at herself. She felt powerful and fierce, ready to own the night.
“C’mon, I need you to approve of my costume!” Liv barged into the room, wearing a bright, revealing witch outfit complete with a feathered hat. She spun around dramatically, her long hair swaying. “What do you think? Am I hot or what?”
Y/N laughed, the tension easing a bit. “You look amazing! Just don’t make me drag you home” Referring to the multiple times that she had to carry her across campus back to their apartment.
Liv winked, grabbing her bag and tossing Y/N a mischievous grin. “No promises! Now let’s go, I want to dance!”
As they made their way to the party, the campus buzzed with excitement. Halloween decorations adorned the buildings, and students in various costumes milled about, laughter and music echoing in the cool night air. Y/N felt a thrill run through her as they approached the venue, a popular fraternity house that was known for its raucous parties.
On the way, they decided to take a shortcut through a quieter part of campus. That’s when Y/N spotted him.
Harry Styles emerged from the gym, a towel draped around his neck and wearing a loose fitted tank top that showcased his toned arms. His hair was slightly damp, and he looked effortlessly handsome—exuding the same confidence that had captivated her in class. Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, her earlier bravado instantly replaced by embarrassment.
“Shit, is that—?” Liv started, her voice slurring slightly as she squinted in the dim light.
Before Y/N could stop her, Liv straightened, her playful demeanor shining through the haze of her tipsiness. “Hey, Professor Styles!” she called out, a cheeky grin plastered on her face.
Y/N felt her cheeks heat up as Harry turned his gaze toward them, eyebrows raising in surprise. “Liv, Y/N,” he greeted, his tone friendly yet laced with curiosity. His eyes flickered over their costumes, and Y/N couldn’t tell if he was amused or shocked.
“Looks like you two are ready for a big night,” he said, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.
Y/N could feel her stomach twist with embarrassment, acutely aware of the way she was dressed. She glanced at Liv, who was practically bouncing on her feet, clearly emboldened by the drinks she’d had. “Yeah, just heading to the party! You should come by and join us!” Liv said, her words spilling out a little too quickly.
“Liv!” Y/N hissed, mortified. This was not the conversation she had envisioned. The last thing she wanted was for Harry to see her friend flirting like this.
Harry chuckled, the sound low and rich, and Y/N felt a mix of relief and frustration at the way it sent warmth through her. “I appreciate the invite, but I think I’ll pass,” he replied, his gaze still locked on Y/N, as if trying to gauge her reaction.
“C’mon, it’ll be fun! You could let loose for one night,” Liv pressed, tilting her head with a playful smile, completely oblivious to Y/N’s discomfort. “Besides, we’d love to see you in a costume!”
Harry shook his head, laughter dancing in his eyes. “I think I’m better off here, thanks. Maybe next year?”
Y/N felt like she might combust. Next year? As if they’d still be in the same orbit then. “Uh, right. Maybe,” she managed, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Yeah, you should really think about it,” Liv chimed in, clearly enjoying the banter. She nudged Y/N, a teasing sparkle in her eyes. “I mean, we’re all just trying to have a little fun, right?”
Harry’s gaze flicked back to Y/N, his expression softening slightly. “You’re right, fun is important. Just make sure you’re safe tonight.”
Y/N swallowed hard, struggling to keep her composure. The concern in his voice felt personal, like he genuinely cared about their well-being. “We will,” she promised, forcing a smile despite the heat flooding her cheeks.
“Well, I’ll leave you to your night. Enjoy yourselves,” he said, taking a step back.
As he turned to walk away, Liv leaned into Y/N, her eyes wide with excitement. “Did you see that? He was totally checking you out!”
“What? No!” Y/N protested, though her heart raced at the thought. “He was just being polite.”
“Polite? He was practically undressing you with his eyes! Come on, don’t act like you didn’t feel that!” Liv giggled, already pulling Y/N toward the party.
Y/N tried to shake off the feeling, but as they walked away, she glanced back at Harry, who was now disappearing into the shadows of the campus. The look he had given her lingered in her mind, an intoxicating blend of desire and danger.
The party loomed ahead, pulsing with music and laughter, but Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that this night was just the beginning.
As Y/N and Liv stepped into the party, the pulse of music hit them like a wave, vibrant and intoxicating. The room was filled with bodies dancing under dim, flickering lights, laughter and cheers blending into a thrilling cacophony. The atmosphere buzzed with energy, and Y/N felt herself being swept away, the earlier embarrassment fading as she embraced the night.
“Let’s get some drinks!” Liv shouted over the music, her eyes sparkling with excitement. They made their way to the makeshift bar, where red solo cups overflowed with punch and various alcoholic concoctions.
Y/N poured herself a drink, the sweet taste sliding down her throat with a comforting burn. She felt the warmth of the alcohol spreading through her, loosening her nerves. Maybe this was what she needed—a distraction, a chance to dance, to forget for a while.
As they moved through the crowd, Liv grabbed Y/N's hand and led her to the center of the room, where bodies swayed and mingled. The rhythm of the music thrummed through Y/N, and she found herself letting go, the beat pulling her into the moment.
But even as she danced, her mind kept drifting back to Harry. The way he had looked at her, the flicker of interest in his eyes—it made her heart race and her skin tingle in ways she didn’t fully understand. The tension between them was electric, but the reality of their roles—the professor and the student—loomed over her like a dark cloud.
She needed to shake off those thoughts. Just for tonight.
As if the universe was listening, a guy approached her, a confident grin spreading across his face. He wore a pirate costume, complete with a ruffled shirt and an eye patch that gave him a playful charm. “What’s a pretty cat like you doing here all alone?” he asked, leaning in slightly, his voice a low drawl.
Y/N raised an eyebrow, suppressing a smile. “Not alone, I’m with my friend,” she gestured to Liv, who was laughing with a group nearby, completely engrossed in her own conversation.
“Well, I’m glad you’re not alone,” he said, his eyes glinting with mischief. “I’m Shawn, by the way.”
“Y/N,” she replied, a hint of flirtation in her voice. “So, you’re a pirate, huh? Got any treasure to share?”
Shawn chuckled, stepping closer, the heat between them palpable. “Oh, I’ve got plenty of treasure. Just depends on what you’re looking for.” He leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. “What are you in the mood for tonight?”
Y/N felt a spark of excitement, a welcome distraction from her thoughts of Harry. She wanted to forget the lingering glances and the magnetic pull she felt toward him. “I’m looking for something fun,” she replied, her confidence bolstered by the drink.
“Fun, huh? I can definitely help with that,” Shawn said, his gaze lingering on her legs, appreciation evident in his eyes. “Why don’t we grab a drink and see where the night takes us?”
Y/N hesitated for just a moment, then nodded, eager for the distraction. She needed to step away from her complex feelings and embrace the night. “Sure, let’s do it.”
They made their way back to the bar, Shawn’s easy charm making her laugh as he recounted silly stories about past Halloween parties. She found herself genuinely enjoying his company, the flirtation light and carefree, a pleasant contrast to the weight of her feelings for Harry.
As the night went on, they danced and shared drinks, the music enveloping them in a cocoon of excitement. Y/N allowed herself to get lost in the moment, to revel in the attention Shawn offered her. It was fun, thrilling even, to flirt with someone who wasn’t complicated or off-limits.
Yet, even in the midst of the revelry, she felt that familiar twinge in her chest, a reminder of Harry's presence and the tension that crackled between them. The deeper she got into her flirtation with Shawn, the more she realized she was trying to fill a void that Harry had created—one that was proving harder to ignore than she had anticipated
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Y/N sat with Chloe, Amber, and Lila on the sun deck, still buzzing from the night. The girls were all leaned in, hanging on her every word as she recounted the details of her date with Harry.
“And then,” Y/N said, her cheeks flushing again at the memory, “he asked if he could kiss me. It was so sweet—like, proper gentleman vibes, you know?”
Chloe squealed, clapping her hands. “A proper prince charming moment! I mean, can you even? And the kiss? Was it fireworks or what?”
Y/N laughed, tucking her hair behind her ear. “It was… perfect. He’s definitely not what I expected when he walked in, but I’m glad he surprised me.”
Amber smirked, nudging Y/N’s arm. “Sounds like he’s got you properly smitten.”
Meanwhile, by the pool, Harry was sitting with Lucas, who was grinning ear to ear as Harry shyly recounted his version of the night.
“Mate, she smiled when I asked, and I was like, thank God. Thought I might’ve been reading it all wrong.” Harry ran a hand through his curls, laughing at himself.
Lucas gave him a friendly slap on the back. “You smashed it, man. About time you stepped up. She’s been waiting on you.”
Harry was mid-sip of his water when his phone buzzed on the table. The sharp ding drew the attention of the nearby boys, and Harry picked it up cautiously, already suspecting something was up.
His eyes scanned the message, and his expression shifted from confusion to mild panic. Clearing his throat, he stood up and held the phone high. “I’ve got a text!”
The villa immediately went quiet as everyone turned to listen.
Harry read aloud, his voice steady but slightly unsure: “Harry, please get ready for your next date. A new girl has entered the villa, and she has chosen you to join her for her first date. #IncomingBombshell #DateRoundTwo”
The reaction was instant. The boys erupted into cheers and whistles, while the girls exchanged wide-eyed glances.
Y/N’s heart sank slightly, her lips tightening into a small smile as she tried to hide the twist in her stomach. Chloe, sitting beside her, immediately placed a reassuring hand on her arm. “Don’t overthink it, babe. It’s just a date.”
Across the villa, Lucas laughed, shaking his head as he looked at Harry. “You’ve got a busy week, mate.”
Harry gave him a wry smile, but his gaze instinctively darted to where Y/N was sitting. She was already looking his way, their eyes meeting for a fleeting moment.
The narrator chimed in, ever the cheeky commentator:
"Well, looks like Harry’s dinner date might’ve been the starter, but the villa gods just delivered the main course. Y/N, time to find out if that kiss was sweet enough to keep his attention… or if this new girl’s about to turn his head faster than a spin class!”
Harry stood at the small, secluded patio where the villa hosted its first dates. The table was set simply, with two glasses of chilled lemonade waiting in the evening heat. He fidgeted slightly, running a hand through his curls as he wondered who this new girl might be.
Moments later, she arrived.
The newcomer strode in with confident steps, her posture straight and her smile dazzling. She was striking—tall, with a cascade of dark hair framing her face and eyes that sparkled with mischief. She wore a flowy, green dress that moved elegantly as she approached.
“Harry, right?” she said, extending her hand. Her voice was smooth, her confidence unmistakable. “I’m Sophia. Lovely to meet you.”
Harry smiled warmly, shaking her hand. “Sophia, hi. Nice to meet you too. Welcome to the chaos.”
She laughed as she took her seat. “Oh, I’m ready for it. Believe me.”
They settled into light conversation at first, with Harry asking about her background. Sophia explained she was a marketing executive from Manchester, had a love for traveling, and wasn’t afraid to speak her mind.
“So,” Sophia said, her tone shifting to something more direct as she leaned slightly closer, her eyes glinting with curiosity. “What’s the situation in the villa? Anyone caught your eye?”
Harry hesitated, not wanting to dive too deep into the complicated dynamics of the house. “Well, yeah. I’ve been getting to know someone—Y/N. We’re sort of… seeing how things go.”
Sophia tilted her head, her lips curving into a knowing smile. “Oh, I see. So it’s early days, then?”
Harry nodded cautiously. “Yeah, you could say that. She’s great.”
Sophia leaned back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other as she regarded him thoughtfully. “Listen, I get that. She sounds lovely, but let me be straight with you, Harry—I didn’t come here to play it safe. You’re the one I wanted to meet, and I’m not shy about saying it.”
Harry blinked, caught off guard by her candor but unable to hide his amusement. “Straight to the point, then.”
“Always,” Sophia said with a wink. “Look, I’m not saying you have to throw everything away with Y/N, but what if I’m the love of your life? You’ll never know unless you give me a chance.”
Harry let out a soft laugh, shaking his head in disbelief at her boldness. “You don’t waste time, do you?”
“Not when I see something I want,” she replied confidently, her gaze unwavering. “You’re here for the same reason I am—to find someone who makes you feel something real. So, why not explore it? Worst case, we don’t click, and you can go back to Y/N without any ‘what ifs.’”
Harry leaned back, studying her for a moment. “Very confident”
Sophia grinned. “You’ve no idea, Harry. But you could find out.”
The narrator’s voice chimed in:
"Well, Sophia didn’t come to make friends, that’s for sure. A bold strategy—let’s see if it pays off, or if Harry’s loyalty to Y/N is stronger than a well-executed sales pitch. Grab your popcorn, viewers; things are heating up.”
As Harry stepped back into the villa, the buzz of chatter around the fire pit dulled for a moment as the boys turned to see him. He made his way over to Lucas, who was lounging on one of the outdoor chairs with a drink in hand.
Lucas grinned up at him, already suspecting why Harry had come over. “My turn, mate?”
Harry nodded, holding up his phone. “Yeah, just got the text. She’s waiting for you now. Good luck, mate.”
Before Lucas could even stand, the rest of the boys swarmed around Harry like moths to a flame.
“Alright, give us the rundown,” Zak said, leaning forward eagerly. “What’s she like?”
“Yeah,” added Ethan, his eyes wide with curiosity. “On a scale of one to ten, what are we saying?”
Harry chuckled, shaking his head at their enthusiasm. “She’s… confident. Really confident.”
The boys groaned in frustration. “We don’t want personality yet, mate. Is she fit or not?” Zak pressed, his grin wide.
Harry rolled his eyes but smirked. “Alright, alright. She’s tall, dark hair, green dress. Proper striking, honestly. And yeah, she’s fit.”
“Oh, this is gonna be fun,” Lucas muttered as he got up, brushing off his shorts. “Anything I should know before I head in?”
Harry gave him a knowing look. “She’s direct. Like, no messing around. Be ready for some bold questions.”
Zak burst out laughing. “Lucas? Handle bold? This I’ve got to see.”
Lucas shot him a playful glare as the boys chuckled. “I’ll be fine, cheers. You just stay here and be jealous.”
As Lucas made his way out of the villa, the boys immediately turned back to Harry, still brimming with questions.
“Did she mention anyone she fancies?” Ethan asked, his curiosity piqued.
Harry hesitated for a moment before shrugging. “She’s here to see where things go, same as everyone else.”
The narrator’s voice chimed in cheekily:
"And by ‘see where things go,’ Harry, you mean straight to you, don’t you? Well, lads, buckle up—looks like Sophia’s confidence is already making waves in the villa!”
Y/N sat on one of the sun loungers with a glass of red wine on her hand but her attention wasn’t on the words. Her eyes flicked toward Harry, who stood surrounded by the boys near the fire pit. He was animated, laughing and gesturing as he described his date with Sophia. The excitement in his tone and the eager reactions from the boys only made her jaw clench tighter.
She had waited patiently for him to come over after his return. Surely, after the date, he’d seek her out—offer her reassurance, a kind word, something. But instead, he’d gone straight to the lads to gush about the new girl.
"Unbelievable," Y/N muttered under her breath.
“What’s got you fuming?” Chloe asked, slipping onto the lounger beside her with a cold drink in hand.
Y/N sighed, rubbing her temple. “It’s Harry. He’s just like the rest of them. I really thought he was different, Chloe. Like, more mature, you know?”
Chloe glanced toward the fire pit, where Harry and the boys were still deep in conversation. “What’s he done now?”
“It’s what he hasn’t done,” Y/N replied, her tone clipped. “He didn’t even come to me first. I mean, after our date, after that kiss…” She shook her head, struggling to find the right words. “It would’ve been nice if he’d just—ugh—checked in with me, reassured me that his head wasn’t going to turn the moment a new girl walked in.”
Chloe winced, clearly trying to pick her words carefully. “Maybe he’s just, I don’t know, caught up in the boys’ banter? It doesn’t mean—”
“No, Chloe,” Y/N cut in, her voice firm. “He should’ve made time for me first. Instead, he’s over there, probably telling them how stunning she is and how confident she came across. And knowing her, she probably told him she doesn’t care that he’s with me, which clearly got him buzzing.”
Chloe gave her a sympathetic look. “So, what now?”
Y/N leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest. “Now? Nothing. I’m not going to chase him. If he wants to act like every other lad in here, fine. But I’m not going to sit around like some mug, waiting for him to decide where his head’s at. He knows where to find me.”
"And Y/N makes her stance crystal clear. Harry, mate, if you were looking for a ‘heads up,’ you’re about to get it—just not the kind you want. Someone fetch the popcorn; it’s getting juicy!”
The villa buzzed with energy as Lucas strode confidently through the main doors, Sophia at his side. His arm was casually draped around her shoulders, and his grin could have lit up the entire space. The rest of the Islanders turned their heads to watch them come in, conversations halting as the pair made their entrance.
Y/N sat at the corner of the sun deck with Chloe, idly swirling the straw in her drink. Her gaze flicked over to Sophia, and she had to admit the girl was stunning. Her dark hair gleamed under the villa lights, and her confidence was palpable—her stride matched Lucas’s with ease, her smile just as radiant.
Chloe nudged Y/N gently. “She’s pretty, yeah?”
“Yeah, she is,” Y/N admitted, her tone even. “But this isn’t about her. It’s about Harry.”
Chloe tilted her head, following Y/N’s line of sight. Across the yard, Harry stood near the fire pit with Zak and Ethan. His head turned slightly as he caught sight of Sophia and Lucas, his expression unreadable for a moment before he joined in on the boys’ laughter and banter.
“That’s what’s bugging me,” Y/N continued, her voice low. “This isn’t some petty jealousy thing. It’s not even about her being beautiful or whatever. I knew this was a game when I signed up. But Harry? He’s the problem.”
Chloe frowned. “Because he hasn’t spoken to you?”
“Exactly,” Y/N said, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “He’s spent the entire evening talking to the boys about how confident she is, how fit she looks—like I don’t even exist. After the date we had, the things he said, the way he kissed me… I thought I’d at least get a bit of reassurance. But no, I’m over here watching her waltz in like nothing’s wrong while he’s acting like we’re just mates.”
"Y/N’s got the clarity of a woman who’s been through it. And as for Harry? Well, mate, seems like you’ve fumbled the ball in the first half. Better come up with a game plan before you’re sent to the bench!"
As the evening buzzed on, the girls continued their conversation with Sophia, who was holding court effortlessly. They sat around the fire pit, the warmth of the flames and their bubbling excitement keeping the energy high.
“So, Sophia,” Amber said again, determined to get answers, “come on, just tell us. Who do you fancy?”
Sophia smiled, her confidence glowing as she twirled her drink in her hand. “Honestly? Everyone’s been so welcoming. But if I had to pick, I do love a guy who’s confident. And my date with Lucas was a great way to kick things off.”
“Oh, come on, you can’t just leave it at that,” Georgia chimed in with a laugh. “Who else caught your eye? You must have noticed someone.”
Sophia leaned back, her eyes sparkling mischievously. “Alright, alright. I’ll admit, Harry seems like an interesting guy. There’s something about him, isn’t there?”
The girls giggled and exchanged knowing looks, except for Chloe, who subtly rolled her eyes. She leaned into Y/N and muttered, “I don’t trust her.”
Y/N raised an eyebrow. “What? Why?”
Chloe glanced at Sophia, who was now laughing brightly at something Amber had said. “She’s too polished. Too... perfect. I get that it’s early, but it’s like she’s trying to be everyone’s best friend. Nobody’s that nice straight out the gate.”
Y/N smirked. “Maybe she’s just a people person.”
Chloe scoffed lightly. “Or maybe she’s playing a longer game. Just be careful, yeah?”
Y/N hummed in response, still keeping an eye on Sophia, who had seamlessly charmed the entire group.
The narrator chimed in, perfectly timed:
"Chloe’s not buying Sophia’s act—she’s got her radar up. But whether Sophia’s a charmer or a schemer, it seems she’s got everyone under her spell… for now."
As the evening settled into a quieter rhythm, the villa began to wind down. The laughter and chatter by the fire pit faded as couples peeled off to their respective corners, ready to call it a night. Y/N was the first to step into the bedroom, the soft hum of the air conditioning greeting her as she walked in.
From the corner of her eye, she spotted Harry emerging from the bathroom, towel in hand, his curls damp and tousled. He glanced up and caught sight of her, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. “Alright, love?” he said with a playful wave.
Y/N barely acknowledged him, her lips pressing into a thin line as she strode past without so much as a second glance. Harry’s grin faltered, his hand awkwardly dropping to his side as he watched her head toward her side of the bed.
Frowning, he scratched the back of his neck before making a beeline for the boys’ corner of the villa. Lucas was sprawled on one of the loungers, still mid-chat with Callum. Harry dropped down beside him, his expression puzzled.
“Mate,” Harry started, his voice low, “I’m so confused”
Lucas glanced at him. “What’s happening?”
“Y/N,” Harry clarified. “I just said hi to her, and she walked past me like I wasn’t even there. Proper blanked me.”
Lucas raised an eyebrow. “What did you do?”
Harry threw his hands up. “Nothing! At least, I don’t think so? We had a good laugh earlier today; everything seemed fine.”
Lucas leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Well, if she’s giving you the cold shoulder, you’ve definitely done something. Girls don’t just do that for no reason.”
“Like what, though?” Harry asked, his voice tinged with frustration.
Lucas glanced around, then spotted Chloe heading toward the bedroom. “Oi, Chloe,” he called out, motioning for her to stop.
Chloe hesitated, her eyebrow arching as she stepped toward them. “What’s up?”
Lucas tilted his head toward Harry. “What’s Y/N’s deal? She’s just given this one the freeze treatment, and he’s clueless about what he’s done.”
Chloe folded her arms, her gaze flicking to Harry. “What did you say to her?”
“Nothing! I waved and said hi,” Harry protested.
Chloe sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “It’s not about what you said, Harry. It’s probably about what you didn’t say. She’s been stewing since dinner.”
Harry frowned. “Dinner? What about dinner?”
Chloe gave him a look that practically screamed you’re hopeless. “Sophia. The fact that you came back raving about her instead of checking in with Y/N. You left her hanging, mate. She probably thinks your head’s turned.”
Harry blinked, a slow realization dawning on his face. “Bloody hell. I didn’t even think about that.”
Chloe smirked. “Clearly. Better go fix it before it gets worse.”
The narrator chimed in with impeccable timing:
"Harry’s learning the hard way—when it comes to Love Island, actions speak louder than words. And in this villa, silence can be deafening."
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Harry, a private billionaire and devoted father, hires Y/N as his son's nanny. Her kindness stirs unexpected feelings. Will love overcome his guarded life, a jealous girlfriend, and the mystery of Oliver's mother?
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Harry's frustration had reached its peak during the carefully planned trip. The purpose behind the getaway was more significant than anyone could fathom. Before Y/N entered his life, settling down was a notion he rarely entertained. The carefree days of bachelorhood had held their charm, but they were now distant memories. The separation from Y/N during those months felt like a prolonged agony, each day an ache for her voice, her vibrant personality, and the comforting texture of her skin.
Their future together held the promise of endless possibilities, and Harry had envisioned the perfect moment to ask the most important question of his life. Yet, every attempt was thwarted by the incessant interference of the bothersome couple. Frustration and disappointment mingled in Harry's gaze as he looked at Y/N.
"Seems like it's getting late," Harry declared abruptly, interrupting the tiresome, trivial conversations with the couple. The desire for some intimate, uninterrupted time alone with Y/N in the sanctuary of their room was becoming irresistible.
The resort room welcomed Harry and Y/N back with a soft glow from the bedside lamps. The rhythmic sound of the waves outside created a serene ambiance, a stark contrast to the frustration simmering within Harry. He needed a moment to collect himself.
“I am going to have a bath” Harry admitted, running a hand through his tousled hair. The night, initially filled with anticipation, had been repeatedly hijacked, leaving him on edge.
“Can I join you?” Y/N said, sensing his agitation, gave him a reassuring smile.
Harry nodded appreciatively and disappeared into the bathroom. Once inside, he decided that a relaxing bath might help him shake off the irritation that clung to him like a persistent shadow.
As the water filled the tub, Harry glanced at his reflection in the mirror. He was a mix of emotions — frustration, anticipation, and a touch of disappointment. The sparkle of the engagement ring nestled in his pocket seemed to mock him, a reminder of the proposal that kept slipping away.
The warm water embraced him as he eased into the bath, closing his eyes to block out the world outside. The subtle aroma of bath salts filled the air, creating a sanctuary within the confines of the bathroom.
The gentle lull of the waves failed to drown out the intrusive thoughts that swirled in Harry's mind. He replayed the moments when he had attempted to ask the life-altering question, only to be thwarted by Paige and David's unwelcome appearances.
As Harry soaked in the warmth, the tension began to dissolve. He thought about Y/N waiting just beyond the bathroom door, the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Determination flickered in his eyes.
As the warm water embraced him, Harry found solace in the soothing confines of the bathtub. The flickering candlelight added a soft glow to the bathroom, creating an intimate atmosphere. Lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice Y/N quietly entering the room until she stood at the edge of the bathtub.
“Hi” She smiled as she took off her clothes and slip into the hot water on the other side of the bathtub.
Y/N gracefully slipped into the water, settling in front of him. The warmth of the bath and the closeness of their bodies created an unspoken connection. Harry welcomed the comfort of her presence, feeling the tension melt away.
Y/N traced circles on the water's surface with her fingertips. "What's been bothering you, honey? You seemed a bit off tonight.”
Harry sighed, grateful for the understanding in her eyes. "I had plans for tonight, plans that kept getting interrupted. I wanted everything to be perfect, especially for you.”
Y/N's gaze softened. "Everything is perfect. We're here, together, and that's what matters.” She caressed his leg under the water.
He nodded, appreciating her perspective. "You're right, love. It's just... I wanted tonight to be special, and it felt like every time I tried, something got in the way.”
In the soft glow of candlelight, Harry's eyes locked with Y/N's, and a tender smile graced his lips. The warm water enveloped them, creating a cocoon of intimacy. As he reached out for her hand, his voice, filled with emotion, began to paint a scene of love.
"Y/N," he whispered, the words carrying the weight of all the love he felt. "From the moment I met you, my life changed. You brought colors to my world that I didn't know existed. You're my anchor, my partner in every adventure, and the love of my life.”
Y/N's eyes shimmered with understanding and affection as she held his gaze, captivated by the sincerity in his voice.
"And, well, I had this whole grand plan for tonight," Harry continued, a touch of vulnerability in his tone. "I wanted it to be perfect, because you deserve nothing less.”
He took a deep breath, his fingers gently caressing hers. "Y/N, will you make every day brighter, every moment richer, and every future better by being my wife? Will you marry me?"
As Harry spoke the question that had been lingering in his heart, the room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for Y/N's response. A tear slid down her cheek, carrying with it the depth of her emotions.
"Yes, Harry," she whispered, her voice a symphony of love. "A thousand times, yes."
Harry's hand reached out of the water, grabbing his pants. He fumbled for a moment before pulling out a small red box. The Cartier logo adorned the elegant packaging, and Y/N's eyes widened with surprise.
Y/N's breath caught, and her eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Harry..."
He looked at her with a hopeful smile. "Say you'll be mine forever?"
Y/N's heart swelled with emotion. "Yes”
The room was filled with the warmth of their love as Harry slid the ring onto Y/N's finger, sealing their promise in the intimate glow of the candlelit bathroom. The imperfections of the night faded away, leaving only the perfect moment they had created together.
Once the sun-kissed days in Anguilla had faded into cherished memories, Harry and Y/N returned to the States, hand in hand, ready to embark on the next chapter of their journey. The warmth of the Caribbean sun may have been replaced by the crisp air of their hometown, but the glow of their shared experiences lingered.
The townhouse, a charming abode with a history of its own, stood welcomingly as they approached. With keys in hand, they stepped inside, greeted by the echoes of empty rooms and the promise of turning this space into a home.
Over the next few days, Harry and Y/N dove into the process of making the townhouse their own. Boxes were unpacked, revealing memories and mementos from their time in Anguilla—a seashell collected on a morning walk, a framed photo capturing a sunset, and the scent of ocean air lingering in their clothes.
In between arranging furniture and choosing color schemes, the couple found moments to steal kisses in the midst of chaos, laughter bubbling up as they navigated the unfamiliar terrain of assembling furniture.
"I never thought I'd be packing up and moving once more," Y/N sighed, meticulously cleaning the picture frames before carefully arranging them on the mantle above the fireplace in the living room.
Harry, carrying yet another box into the kitchen, flashed a reassuring smile. "This truly is the last time, love. I promise." The process had begun upstairs in the bedrooms and gradually made its way to the ground floor. The rhythmic tasks of unpacking and settling into a new home felt both familiar and promising, a shared endeavor for the couple embarking on this final move.
"Do you think our collection is enough to fill the shelves in the office library?" Y/N questioned, securing the last unpacked box in the living room.
Harry grinned, glancing at the myriad of books around them. "I hope so. But if not, I know you won't hesitate to fill them up with more from the bookstore for your own pleasure." He had embraced her love for reading, gradually turning into a reader himself.
"Feeling hungry?" Harry sprawled on the couch. "I'm starving."
"Thai?" Y/N suggested with a chuckle as Harry reached for his phone. "What's so funny?"
Harry grinned, dialing the restaurant. "Nothing. I just know you've been on a Thai kick since you got pregnant."
The doorbell rang, drawing Y/N's attention. She swung the door wide open, and there stood Michael, Violet, and Alessandro.
"Well, what are you doing here?" Y/N exclaimed, her face lighting up. She pulled them into a group hug.
Alessandro's eyes fell on Y/N's pregnant belly. "You're glowing, really suits you," he said with a warm smile, planting a kiss on her cheek. “You look beautiful.”
"Come in!" Y/N ushered them inside, the atmosphere instantly filling with laughter and the comfort of cherished friends. “Welcome to our new home”.
"This place is gorgeous," Violet commented as they admired the townhouse. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm alright. Very tired, but happy."
"No way!" Violet's exclamation caught the attention of both men, and she grabbed Y/N's hand to get a better look at the ring.
"Harry proposed?!" Alessandro's disbelief resonated in his voice. He never imagined Harry settling down and creating a family. "Styles!" he called out, making his way toward the back of the house where the living room was situated. "Congratulations, stronzo!" Alessandro grinned, pulling him into a tight hug.
"What brings you here?" Harry asked, still processing the engagement.
"A baby on the way, a new house, and now you're engaged?! Who are you!" Alessandro chuckled, teasingly expressing his shock at the whirlwind of changes in Harry's life.
"Harry, I didn't know you had it in you," he teased, Michael joined the conversation.
"Well, it seems life has its surprises," Harry replied, glancing at Y/N with a fond smile.
"Let's celebrate!" Violet suggested. "I brought a bottle of champagne. This calls for a toast!"
As they gathered in the living room, Alessandro couldn't help but express his genuine happiness for the couple. "You know, Y/N, I always knew Harry was head over heels for you. It was just a matter of time."
Y/N blushed, appreciating the kind words. "I'm lucky to have him and to have all of you”
The champagne cork popped, and they all raised their glasses for a toast. "To love, happiness, and the future Mr. and Mrs. Styles!" Violet exclaimed.
The clinking of glasses filled the room, marking a joyous moment in the midst of unpacked boxes and the promise of a new chapter in their lives.
Later that evening, as they enjoyed their Thai takeout, Alessandro turned to Harry. "So, when's the big day, mate?"
Harry exchanged a glance with Y/N, and a smile played on his lips. "We haven't decided yet, but we'll let you know. You might have to travel across the ocean for a wedding."
Alessandro chuckled. "I'd cross the ocean for you, Styles. Just let me know when and where."
As the night unfolded with laughter, stories, and shared memories, the new townhouse echoed with the warmth of friendship and the anticipation of a bright future.
