#stellarboystyles3years

[comingupstyles]

Adore You

Harry is a single father and Y/N is a well known song-writer that happens to befriend Harry and collaborates on his album Fine Line. 

Will it be friendship or develop into something more? 

Word count: 17, 845 (i don’t know how that happened)

A/N: I was fearful of never finishing this because online school is a lot more reading and work than I expected but I made it and I’m proud. I hope you love it as much as I do. Please reblog and let me know what you thought. 

“Jeff, I don’t need a new pair of ears. No more songwriters are needed. I love doing all the writing.” 

Jeff sighs. “She’s not going to write unless you ask her to, maybe she’ll help you see things in a new perspective. You’re close to being done, and I know you hate being hours away from Atticus.” 

Harry is stubborn though not at all accepting what Jeff is trying to say. “I like my team; we work well together. It’ll happen. You have to trust me.” 

“You said that two months ago. She’s coming in just give her a chance.”

Harry groans but nods. “Sure. When is she coming?”

“30 minutes.” 

“Okay, great, let me show you what I have in front of the team before she gets here.” 

Y/N was nervous when she got the call to come for a meeting with Columbia for potential collaborating with Harry Styles. She was over the moon. She loved his first album; his songwriting was impressive. Getting a chance to work with him would be great knowing she’d learn a lot from him, and hopefully, he’d learn something from her. 

Y/N was walking by a café when she crashed into a woman walking out of the entrance. 

“Shoot, I am so sorry. I was in a rush.” Y/N is quick to scan her head to toe to make sure she didn’t get dirty, and lucky for her, she didn’t. 

“Oh no, sweetie, it’s fine.” Y/N is surprised to hear a lovely accent, not that she’d be able to place it at all; she knows it’s British. 

“Let me buy you a new one, please.” 

“Dear no, you said you were in a hurry.” The woman politely declined. 

“My meeting is not for an hour. I love arriving early. Save me from embarrassing myself, so will you accept a new drink, please. Then you can tell me about where you’re from with an accent that beautiful.” Y/N charms.

“Well, how can I refuse?” 

“Thank you, let’s order then find a table to sit at.” 

Y/N learns the woman is named Anne and that she’s from England, specifically Cheshire. She is in Los Angeles for a little holiday, spending days with her son and grandson. Her grandson is currently with a family friend. Talks about him being the sweetest boy. Then Y/N shared that she was born in a small city in California, with her parents. Her parents separated when she was five, and her mom moved back to her hometown in the UK. She chose to stay with her father. She visited her mom every summer. Her mom got remarried when she was fifteen. Y/N was happy for her, and Antonio was the perfect man for her. She was close to graduating from high school when her dad got sick and passed away three weeks after turning eighteen. She had worked hard all through high school to get into the best schools but was stuck deciding between USC and Oxford and chose to be with her mom. It’s the best thing to happen to her; it led to many opportunities, and met producers and professors who believed in her. They helped her get her foot in the door, and have not been pushed out since. 

Anne and Y/N share their life story in less than an hour. Y/N has her phone alarm go off, reminding her she has 15 minutes for her meeting. Thus, both women begin their goodbyes. 

Anne invites her over for tea when they are both back home, and Y/N accepts. She shares that her mother and step-father live in Northwich. Anne tells her she can’t wait to meet them.

“I’m here for a few more days if you want to get breakfast or lunch one of these days.” Anne offers as Y/N holds the door open. 

“Oh, that’d be lovely. I’m here for a week before heading back home. The life of a songwriter is full of meetings, and there is hardly ever food.” 

“Oh no, now you take care of yourself.” Anne chastises her. 

She laughs. “Of course, I had a big breakfast for this meeting.” 

“Please call me to let me know how it went. I’m invested now.” Anne confesses. 

Y/N and Anne chuckle and hug each other. “I will.” 

She arrives and waits only for a few minutes when Jeff meets her in the lobby. He makes small talk but quiets down when he hears loud voices from the studio they are walking to. He shoots her a nervous smile before walking in. 

“Harry, this is Y/N-” Jeff stops talking when Harry sends him a deep glare. Not aware of what for. 

“Hello, it’s great to meet you.” 

“Look, now is not a good time. Please leave.” Both Y/N and Jeff frown. She is confused because they set up a meeting; the least he could do is accept a proper introduction. 

“Harry, come on. We talked about this.” 

“Jeff, just stop,” Harry yells. “I’m not going to have her working on the album with us. Who knows who she has worked with, probably lied about her credentials to get a meeting with us.” 

Y/N frowns. She worked her way here. To get the respect she deserves, but she has no words to defend herself. The king of kindness was rude, and she did not expect it. She graduated at the top of her class in Oxford. She has worked with some of the best artists, from Adele to Lady Gaga. She’s worked in different genres. She’s a Grammy winner, Joni Michelle has become a close friend to her, a guiding hand in this harsh world. 

“I don’t want to work with someone who just wants to write the next big thing to be washed down by the radio with no true meaning behind the lyrics. I want honesty, and a twenty-year-old girl will not get me that. Mark my words, I will never work with her. Now please go.” Harry turns away, looking at a paper in his hand. 

Y/N frowns; this is a hit she was not expecting. Not from someone she admired as a songwriter, not even as an artist. She’s a strong twenty-four-year-old woman, and a man will not bring her down. She straightens up and pulls back her shoulders, looking tall and fierce. She knows her worth and how talented she is, and that is enough. 

“Nice to meet you, Jeff. Best of luck on the album. I look forward to hearing it once it’s out.” She turns and goes out of the way she came in. As soon as she is outside, a tear falls out, and soon more follow. 

Shit. 

Talk about bad days, Y/N doesn’t want to call anyone but knows she has to talk it out. Without thinking twice, she pulls up a new number she had just gotten an hour ago. 

“Hi Anne, the meeting was a bust.” Y/N tries to keep her tears down. 

“I’m sorry, honey.” 

“Thank you, sorry if I’m bothering you. I just had to talk it out.” 

“I’m with my grandson getting frozen yogurt. You are more than welcome to join us. He loves meeting my friends.” Anne’s offer sounds good, but she has to refuse. 

“Thank you, but I don’t want to impose.” 

“No imposing at all. I insist. I’ll forward the address.” 

Y/N lets out a small okay before deciding to walk, seeing as it was a ten-minute walk. 

She arrives and sees Anne with a young boy around the age of five. He was talking, waving his spoon around, and Anne was laughing. 

She approaches slowly, not to startle them. She gets in Anne’s line of vision, and she is quick to stand up to greet her. 

“Hi dear, come here, give me a hug.” 

It warms her heart, making her feel better already. A mother’s hug heals, even if it isn’t her own.

“Atticus, this is my friend Y/N. I told you she was meeting us and was having a bad day. Told her this might cheer her up, is that okay?” 

Beautiful green eyes look up at her. He stays staring for a few seconds before smiling, and she spots a single dimple on his right cheek. 

“Yes, I’m Atticus nice to meet you. You can sit next to me after getting your yogurt. My Daddy says I tell the best stories, will you let me tell you one?” He says slowly, a sweet accent able to be heard with each word. 

“Yes, I’d be honored.”  

She gets plain vanilla tart with strawberries, blueberries, kiwi, and a bit of whipped cream. She then sits next to the young boy who waves at her, patting the seat next to him. She slides right in, and Atticus beams at her causing her to smile back. 

“Honey, before you tell her the story, I’m going to talk to her for a bit to make sure she’s okay.” Atticus nods, picking up a cookie from his cup. 

“Tell me what happened” Anne reaches for Y/N’s hand, giving her a gentle squeeze.

“I walked in and met with his manager, who then took me to the studio and the artist just began to go on about how he could not work with a twenty-year-old who knew nothing about writing an impactful song and how he would never work with me.” Y/N looks down at her cup before looking at Anne again and giving her a small smile. “I don’t think he meant it, the heat of the moment talking, the wrong person at the wrong time. He was upset when I arrived, but also to treat a stranger that rudely, well, I won’t be working with this person now, so no point dwelling on it.” 

“I bet that was hard to endure.” 

“Can’t say it’s the first time I was talked down or looked at for being a woman but doesn’t make it hurt any less.” 

“Well, I’m here for you.”

“Thank you, Anne, one bad day doesn’t mean the rest will be too.” 

“That man didn’t treat you with kindness. That’s what you have to do always, as Daddy says.” Atticus comments on what little he understood. 

“That’s right; your Daddy has taught you well,” Anne tells the young boy. She then turns to you. “Harry has taught him to be kind and help others. He’s brilliant, and Harry is just so proud of him.” 

Y/N nods, agreeing. “Sweetest boy I’ve ever met.” 

Anne gasps. “Atticus Styles, what did you do?” 

Y/N turns to see the boy’s blue polo is covered in white yogurt. She is quick to react, getting napkins to clean his hands; thankfully, his cup did not tip over. Anne says she’s going to take him to the restroom. Y/N nods, helping the boy out of his seat. She cleans the spot up as nothing has happened. 

She settles in her seat, leaning back when what Anne says comes to the front of her mind. 

Atticus Styles

Sure, everyone knew Harry had a child, but that is all anyone knew; Y/N doesn’t use social media much, only using it to keep up with her parents and family members. Y/N hates doing google searches on anyone, but what are the chances of her meeting Harry Styles’ mother and his son. 

Google confirms Anne Twist is, in fact, the Anne she met today. Y/N might be clueless about all this but also will not bring it up. She decides that if Anne ever brings Harry up, she’ll say they met once, and it was brief. Not enough to be remembered. She wouldn’t dare say the man who yelled at her was her son. No mother needs to hear that. 

Y/N had only met Anne today but already knew she would be a special friend in her life. 

—-

After that time in Los Angeles, Anne and Y/N stayed in contact and frequently visited each other. She introduced her mom to Anne, and they got along so well. She was thrilled, but she honestly saw Anne as a friend. A wise friend who she could talk to about anything without any judgment. 

Y/N was visiting her parents, but they got called out for drinks for a few friends, and she insisted they go out and not worry about her. She’d find something to do, so she baked cookies and decided to call Anne. She invited her over because she was just taking care of Atticus. 

Harry was spending the day with his mom before making the drive home to London. There was a knock on the door; Harry was surprised at who it was when his mum answered the door. It was that girl from two months ago from the studio. If he’s honest, he was hoping he would never see her face again. His son was thrilled when seeing her. 

“Y/N,” Atticus yells, running into her open arms. 

“Hello, sweet Atticus.” She hugs him tight before grabbing her hand and having her sit next to him. 

“You can call me Atty. All my friends do; we are friends, right?” Atty pouts, awaiting her response. 

“Of course we are. I’m so lucky to call you, my friend. Also, I think Atty is just as precious as Atticus.” She boops his nose, causing him to scrunch up his nose. 

“Thank you. I like it as well.”

“My darlin’, why don’t you take Y/N to the kitchen and help her plate the cookies she brought us,” Anne tells him, brushing a stray brown curl back. 

He nods. “Cookies, come please.”

She laughs, and it leaves Harry with a warm fuzzy feeling. 

“Lead the way, Atty.”

She helps the young boy sit, gets him a glass of milk and a few cookies that are still a bit warm.

“Do you know my daddy?” Atty asks, focusing on breaking his cookie in half, evenly remembering how she didn’t greet him.  

“Met him once, don’t think he remembers me.” She tells him to accept half of his cookie.

“My daddy remembers everyone.” Atty states. 

“Well, I didn’t get to introduce myself, so there’s not much to remember.” 

Atty frowns. “I remember you.” 

She laughs, reaching over to wipe the milk that makes its way down his chin. “That’s because your nana introduced us, and you’re here when I come over.” 

“Okay, but Daddy remembers every face.” She chuckles the young boy, not wanting to drop the topic. 

“Well, I don’t think I’m memorable.” She shrugs, drinking some of her tea.

“That’s not a nice way to talk about yourself.” She leans back, shocked at his response, not expecting him to comment. “You’re beautiful and have pretty shining eyes that I can never forget. Remember, I won’t lie.” He says, voice as firm as it can be for a five-year-old. 

“Well, thank you, sweet Atty.” She grins at him. “I’ll try my best to be kinder to myself from now on.” 

“Daddy says-” 

“What does Daddy say?” Harry interrupts, kissing Atticus’ cheek. 

“Was telling Y/N that you can be kind to others but also remember to be kind to yourself.” Atticus finishes. 

A small smile is on her face; he is the sweetest boy. It shows how well he’s been raised. Shows how amazing of a parent Harry is.

“Wise words to live by, Atty. I’ll remember that.” 

Harry looks like he wants to make a conversation with her, but he stands stiff. 

“Daddy, I want you to meet Y/N. She’s my prettiest friend.” Harry smirks because it looks like his little boy has developed a crush. “Y/N, this is my Daddy, but only I call him that. His name is Harry.” 

Atticus looks at both to see what they’ll do next. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Harry. You’ve got a wonderful son.” Y/N brings her hand out, and Harry can’t help but admire the mint nail color that he knows so well. Her right has four beautiful rings. He shifts his eyes looking to her left hand and seeing none. 

Harry breaks out of his trance and brings his hand up to shake hers. “It’s nice to meet you. Don’t think Atty’s ever talked about you, and he says your friends.” Harry says, teasing the small boy. 

“Well, you said I don’t always have to share.” Atticus giggles as Harry’s mouth falls open. “I didn’t want to share Y/N.” 

Y/N finishes her tea and takes it over to the sink to wash. 

“Daddy, how many cookies can I have?” Atticus picks up his plate to show it’s empty, 

“Well, they are your Nana’s cookies, so better go ask her.”

Atticus is helped by Harry down from his seat, and he scampers to where he last saw his Nana. 

“Y/N,” Harry begins stepping close. 

“Yes, Harry.” She turns after drying her hands and smiles at him. 

Her smile shocks him, it’s bright, and he feels like it lights up the room. He might be a little crazy, but he swears he feels a flutter in his stomach.

“I wanted to apologize for-“Harry’s words stop as a phone rings. It’s ‘Cecilia’ by Simon & Garfunkel. 

She smiles bashfully. The phones in her back pocket. “It’s my mum’s ringtone.” 

Harry nods in understanding. 

“Hi, pretty lady” She stands there, hand on her hip. “I’ll pick you up. Good thing I told you to get a ride there. You both love to drink with your friends. Not nagging, on my way, I’m at Anne’s.” Harry hears more talking. “See you in ten.” She hangs up, smiling at Harry. She waits to see if he will finish what he was saying, but he stands there silent. She shoots him one last smile before going to leave the kitchen. “See you around.” 

“Wait,” He yells. 

Y/N turns back and looks at him. “I’m sorry for how I acted when we first met two months ago. I had a bad day and had no right to treat you that way. Please forgive me.” 

“Sure, let bygones be bygones.” Y/N grins, wanting to leave now that the air is cleared, but Harry does not have it. 

“That’s it?” 

She nods, heading to the door. Kisses Anne on the cheek, letting her know she’d check in with her once she got her parents home and gives Atticus a big squeeze. Harry follows her like a lost puppy. 

“Why do you forgive me?” His voice soft, not wanting him mum to hear.

“Your mother is the kindest person to walk this earth. I met Anne before I had the meeting with you, and it was like talking to someone I’ve known all my life. She reminded me of my mother. I called her after the meeting went sideways, and she offered to get together. I told her what happened, and she was so sweet. I didn’t even know she was your mom.” she chuckles “if you even want to believe that it only clicked when she full-named Atticus. Then it all pieced together.” 

Harry stands there, surprised to have met someone who didn’t know a lot about his family. 

“Anne does not know about our first meeting. I think it should forever stay that way.” 

“Okay, sure.” He complies.

“Take care now.” She pats his shoulder, getting into her car. 

Y/N drives off, leaving Harry with too many thoughts. She’s an enigma, and he wouldn’t mind getting to learn more about her.

—-

Harry blames it on chance when he bumps into Y/N one day at the grocery store. Harry surprised her by conversing with her over double stuffed Oreos. She let him know how much she loved the cream. He asked her to dinner as friends, but she declined because she was leaving on a trip. He asked to exchange numbers because he wanted her over. Atticus asked him to see her more now that he knew they knew each other. After one phone conversation with Atticus, where he called her inviting her to the dog park (Harry doesn’t have a dog), she accepted. It was that day that blossomed their friendship.  

This is why they invited her to the park with them. Well, Atticus did because he doesn’t want to play football with his dad and his friends, no Atticus prefers to play with his choice of friends. 

Harry likes going in the evening with the park lights on and bright. He goes with a few friends in the neighborhood once a week. All were getting together sometimes with their little ones, other times just them to have a good laugh as well as competition. 

Atticus was mad at Harry when she arrived. She dressed in black sweats and a navy blue sweater that had thumb holes. She looked adorable, hanging on one shoulder she had her black backpack that Harry saw had pins of her favorite things; as she got closer, he could make out one was a bee, an orchid, a small movie poster pin of Midsummer, and one of a piano. Harry was tempted to ask her the story for each one because knowing her; there had to be one. 

She approaches them with a broad smile on her face. “Hello, boys,” She greets. 

Atticus is standing two feet away from Harry, the frown slowly leaving his face when Y/N knees down in front of him. He wraps his arms around her neck, holding her tight. She hugs him back, shooting Harry a look who just shrugs. She pulls back, but Atticus follows. 

“Hey, sweet boy, what’s going on?” She runs a hand down his back to get him to feel more comfortable. 

“I’m mad at Daddy.” He murmurs into her neck.

“Okay,” She nods. “You want to tell me why?” 

“He isn’t giving us time to hang out. He left his friends to be with us.” Atticus is upset she can hear it in his voice. It’s fragile as if he’ll crack at any moment. 

“Atticus,” Harry sighs, running a hand through his curls, his headband forgotten at home. 

“No, Daddy. No talking to me.” He yells, raising his head from her neck. 

“Calm down, yeah. No need to yell, okay.” She runs a hand through his hair. “Let’s sit.” 

She sits down and crosses her legs, Atticus right next to her no space in between. She nods her head at Harry to do the same. Harry’s frowning but still sits down right in front of her. 

“You’re going to tell me what happened, okay.” She waits for the young boy to nod before continuing once he does. “Then your dad will tell me what happened.” 

“Okay.” Atticus has his arm wrapped around her bicep. 

“Go when you’re ready.” 

Atticus looks up at her then quickly glances at Harry before fixing his gaze on the football. 

“I invited you to the park. I was excited. Daddy helped me tie my shoes and zipped up my jumper. Then I looked and didn’t see his friends.” He pauses. “Daddy lied, told me he was meeting with his friends only to hang out with us instead. He-” He frowns, not remembering a word. “Left them for us.” 

“Thank you, Atticus. I see why you’re upset. Is it okay for your dad to have his turn now?” 

Harry, all he can think of is bless Y/N for being this mediator. He doesn’t like it when his son is angry with him. 

“Okay, everything Atticus is true up until where he says I left my friends. Once we arrived, they told me they weren’t making it today. I thought it was fine, but I didn’t know how upset Atticus would get for joining you two once I told him. He didn’t even let me explain.” Harry looks at her and knows she understands. She nods at him reassuring him everything would be okay.

“It seems to me that someone didn’t want their dad playing with us because he misses spending time with me alone. Misses having fun just us two, is that it, sweetie?” 

Atticus nods, tears filling in his green orbs. “Daddy doesn’t let me spend time with you anymore.” 

“Well, you’re both my friends. I like spending time with you both. Your dad didn’t lie. Next time before getting mad, let him explain to you the reasons.” She grabs his small hand and gives it a short squeeze. “Your emotions are valid. Harry is not a liar.”  

Harry and Atticus nod. She’s a miracle with his anger; one thing Harry hates that Atticus got from him is his short temper, not that he does it often. It is rare and takes him a while to cool off. Y/N did it with ease. 

“Now, I’m going over to that bench where your bags are and putting on my cleats. Then we can play some soccer, well football or whatever you want to call it. The three of us will play.” 

Atticus lets out a small giggle at her correction; then, Harry can’t help but join in. Both Styles boys watch her stand up and walk away. She sits with her back to them, giving them a private moment. She doesn’t hear what’s being said, but she doesn’t stop the grin from spreading on her face when she hears both their laughs mixed and sounds of kisses being shared. 

Y/N cares for these Styles’ boys. Laces tied, she’s ready to have fun and score some goals on them. She can’t help but think how well she fits in not only with Atticus but with Harry but knows she won’t ever push for more content to call Harry her friend. 

—-

Y/N fit perfectly in their life. Atticus asks to call her, and she almost always answers him, and if not, Harry relays the message to him when she sends a text for missing the call. She makes conversation with them both flow smoothly. Some days they go to the park or get ice cream, but today she invited them over to her house for dinner. 

It’s a small flat in Primrose Hill, it’s perfect for her. She welcomed them right in and headed for the kitchen, where she was finishing plating up the food. It smelled delicious. It was chicken fajita that her dad showed her how to make. To this day, one of her favorite meals. She even made guacamole to go with it knowing how much Harry and Atticus enjoy it. 

Conversation flowed smoothly as they ate on the kitchen island stools, Y/N checking on Atticus every few minutes, afraid he might slip. She instantly felt terrible when Harry sat him on the stool and had it pulled close to him. She would not stop apologizing. Promised she’d do better for when they came over another time.

Harry grinned at the thought of coming over and spending more time with her. He would not be opposed to the idea at all.

After dinner, Atticus went to browse Y/N’s bookcase that ran along the wall. It was filled with many books, but just as many cd’s. In the corner on the other side of the room was a shelf with two crate boxes full of vinyl, a record player on top in mint condition. Harry resisted the urge to peak even though he knows she’d happily let him if he asked. 

Harry was curious he didn’t see any of her awards, only family pictures and paintings from artists he didn’t know. He decided to ask. “Where are your awards?” 

“Malibu.” She replied, handing a book to Atticus that he was reaching for.

“Why not here?” Harry watched her as she watched his son settle himself on the couch, opening the book.

She shrugs. “I’ve got an actual house in Malibu to keep things, while a flat I will eventually outgrow, I don’t mind having things apart.”

Harry nods in understanding. 

He wants her to keep talking as he sees her take a drink of her tea. He likes speaking with her. She smiles at him before making her way over to Atticus. Harry’s not sure what book he is reading, but he is flipping the pages quickly. 

She feels Harry’s eyes on her as she lets Atticus start reading aloud, wanting him to say each word correctly. He goes slow, flipping back the first page. She smiles, knowing he is doing really well. She gestures to Harry to come sit, and he does without a second thought. He sits on the other side of the couch when, in reality, he wants to sit next to her. To be able to throw his arm over her shoulder as she cuddles close to him, hearing his son read to them, but alas, that is not the reality. 

Harry’s feelings have grown for her over the last few weeks, and he’s sure he likes her. She’s amazing and everything he wants in a partner. Not to mention she’s fantastic with Atticus. He just doesn’t want to ask her out for fear of rejection, then she’d stop seeing them altogether, and he selfishly doesn’t want that. He fears that she’ll reject him because he is a father meaning his son will always come first. 

She smiles faintly as she watches Harry correct Atticus on a mispronunciation of a word. He’s very attentive. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t interested in Harry, who wouldn’t be. He’s a single dad who loves his son with every fiber of his body and is the kindest person she has ever met. He radiates light to those around; he’s the equivalent to the sun that shines each day. 

Y/N wants to ask him out but won’t due to fear of being rejected. 

Both sneak glances at one another, never wanting to be caught by the other. Secret glances are all they have. 

As Atticus closes the book after finishing chapter one, he sits in Harry’s lap after she tells him he can take it home, and it can be their bedtime story. Atticus thanks her before getting up and walking around the couch to her record player collection. 

She turns her body to face him, it also allows her to glance at Atticus behind him. “How’s the album coming along?”

“It’s going. I’ve got an official album name but still writing.” He nods, thinking about the few songs they had finished when he came back from his short time in Japan recently.

“Well, best of luck. Know it’s going to be amazing.” Harry grins, hearing her words, always thankful for her support, whether she knows it or not. 

Atticus walks to the coffee table that has a few books and magazines scattered in an organized mess. He picks it up and brings it over to Y/N. 

She flips it open to a random page and shows him what’s inside is a nine-by-nine grid of numbers filled in. “It’s a logic puzzle game. You have to make sure each box has numbers one through nine but has to make sure that the column doesn’t have the same number. It’s a combination of skills.” She shrugs. “It’s fun and helps the brain grow. My dad introduced it to me.” 

Atticus nods and flips through it. Before setting it back where he found it. 

“Well, I’m a pro at scrabble.” Harry states. 

Atticus jumps at the name of the game. “I am too.” 

“Guess that means we should play.” She stands up and pulls it out from a closed-door that Harry assumes is a closet 

The game begins. Harry stating his letters are terrible. Atticus and Y/N laugh at him before focusing on the letters. The game is going well, no one keeping track of points, something Atticus insisted on because he knows his Daddy can be a sore loser. Harry gasps when he hears his son expose him like that.

 The game has been going on longer than they expected. Y/N has a girl and is happy to see she can put it in front of ‘friend’ without breaking any rules. 

“Girlfriend.” Atticus reads it aloud. 

She reaches her hand in the small bag for four more letters. 

Atticus moves his letters around before looking up seriously. “Daddy needs a girlfriend.”  

Harry and Y/N both laugh, not knowing what to say to that. Atticus lets out a long yawn making Harry call it a night for them.

Atticus shakes his head no. “We didn’t finish.”

“That’s alright, sweet boy. We had a good time, which is all that matters.” Atticus nods, getting up to hug her. “Let me go get the leftover cookies so you can take them home. Bet Matthew would like some when he comes over tomorrow afternoon.” Matthew, Atticus’ homeschool teacher, since Harry is traveling a lot this year and doesn’t like being apart from his son, he found him a private tutor. Atticus enjoys it and loves telling Y/N about it. 

Harry helps Atticus tie his shoes and slips his coat on before doing the same. 

“Thanks for having us over, love,” Harry says as he scoops Atticus up in his arms. 

“Anytime.” She replies, honestly. 

They walk outside together to his car parked out front. “We should do it again.”  

“Of course, I would love to.”  

“You’ve been a great friend.” She frowns at his words. “Atticus really loves you.” 

Atticus lets out a small grumble on Harry’s shoulder, which breaks her train of thought. 

“You should go” Y/N’s voice lost a little of her charm, shocking Harry. 

He doesn’t have time to question it, seeing as Y/N opens the car door for Harry, and he sets Atticus down, buckling him in safely.

“Did I say something?” 

She laughs. “We’re fine, Harry. Get home safe, I’ll see you soon.” 

She walks up to her steps and doesn’t go inside until she sees Harry get in and drive away. 

She lets herself relax now that he’s gone. 

Friends, we are just friends. 

She’s not going to lie and say it didn’t break her heart, hearing him call her his friend, but that is what she is. He’s a dad, and if he doesn’t want a relationship, who is she to push that. 

—-

“Hello, Y/N.” Harry greets on the phone. 

“Hi Harry, how’s the little lad?” Harry doesn’t even try to hide his smile at her question. Harry loves how much she cares for Atticus, makes his heart beat faster. 

“He’s doing good. Went to the park today, knocked out as soon as we got home.” 

“Oh, good to know that his energy does wind down.” Y/N teases. 

“So,” He pauses and clears his throat, “there’s this play on Friday; it’s at seven, and I was wondering,” He’s getting nervous not being able to get the words out. 

“Oh, Harry, you didn’t even have to ask, I’ll be there, six twenty, don’t you worry. No fear of arriving late.” Harry hears lots of talking in the background. “I’ve got to go, but I’ll see you Friday.” 

She hangs, but before he can say goodbye but there’s a grin on his face because he has a date on Friday. 

Friday came quickly. She put in the code that Harry texted her yesterday. He changed it and wanted to make sure she could get in with no problem. 

She knocks on the door, a Tupperware in hand. 

“Y/N,” Harry greets, and she’s left speechless. He looks gorgeous. 

Harry’s wearing a cream knitted sweater and over it a blue wool-cashmere coat. His black fitted trousers and Gucci boots on his feet to complete the look. 

Y/N knows Harry is a beautiful man, but he looks too perfect to be real when he dresses up like this.

“You look amazing, Harry.”

“And you look,” Harry was at a loss for words, he really was. Y/N’s dressed in black sweats and dark blue oversized jumper, her hair in a bun. “Comfortable.”

“Sure am; you didn’t say how long you’d be gone, so I thought this would be best in case I doze off after putting Atticus to bed.” 

“Uh right, well, I thought,” Harry is confused; he thought he had asked her to join him. 

“I heard this play is really wonderful, and if you want to catch dinner afterward, no worries, I’ve got no plans tomorrow.” 

“Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind.” Harry nods. 

“Where’s Atticus?” She asks, looking around.

“In his room, he was tidying up a bit. He wanted it to be clean for you.” Harry laughs. “Think he’s got a bit of a crush on you.” 

Y/N’s hands fly to her cheeks in surprise. “Oh my, well, isn’t that sweet. Kind little bub, I feel honored.” Her cheeks are warm now. “Thank you for letting me babysit, you could have asked anyone else. I really do like taking care of him.”

“Yes, of course, I’m glad you came to do it.” 

“Well, I think you should be going now.” She looks at her phone the time showing 6:30. “Don’t want to be late for meeting your date.” Y/N slips her shoes off and walks further into the house. 

“Right, uh... help yourself to anything in the kitchen, and there’s the guest room open if you happen to doze off.” He grabs his keys. 

“Thank you, Harry. Have a good night.” A big smile on her face until she locks the door does she let it fall. Harry has a date and only saw her as the babysitter. Sad to think he might never feel the same way. She heads to Atticus’ room to spend a great evening with him without thinking much about it.

Harry pulls out his phone to ring his mum as he unlocks his car. “Mum, how close are you?” He nods. “Park your car outside, then we’ll go to the play in mine. The plans changed, I’ll explain no worries.” Harry sighs. “Then I’m calling Gem so she can expect us for a late dinner to discuss how much of an idiot I am.” 

—-

It’s morning, and Harry never made it home. As disheartening is what to find out, she had a young boy asking her what breakfast was. They quickly agreed on French toast, Atticus telling her that Harry’s always came out burnt. She promised her French toast would never come out like that. She helped him sit on the counter, letting him eat strawberries she had washed and cut as well as blueberries. She meant for them to go on top of the toast but just let him be. 

Once she finished cooking her pieces and cut up Atticus’ for him, they both sat at the table. Atticus eagerly dug in as the voice of Joni Mitchell filled the kitchen. She had forgotten to turn off the music. Not that she minded, and as she saw him bopping his head side to side, he didn’t either. 

Atticus pushes his plate away to lean his elbows on the table to get closer to her. He looks at her as if he has something important to ask. Just as he opens his mouth to speak, they hear the front door open then shut. 

His green eyes meet hers shining bright for his father. She helps him off the chair, not wanting him to fall. 

“I’m home. Smells good in here.” Harry leans down and picks up Atticus giving him kisses all over his face until he can’t stop laughing. Y/N can’t help but smile at the scene.

“Late night.” She jokes, standing up and heading to the sink with her dishes and empty cup of tea. She doesn’t hear him laugh and gets nervous; she crossed a line. 

She turns to face him, and he looks serious. His eyebrows furrowed and eyes sharp, looking right at her. 

Harry breaks his stare to lean down to speak with Atticus. She can’t hear them because Atticus is a good whisperer. Something she knows Gemma taught him. Atticus eagerly nods his head. A smile breaks out on Harry’s face showing his son his dimples. 

“Any plans, Y/N?” Atticus asks her after their little conversation. 

“Nope, unless you count the laundry waiting for me at home that I need to do.” She laughs, knowing that it doesn’t sound fun at all, but her favorite sweats need a wash. 

“Do you want to spend more time with us?” He looks shy, asking, something he has never been around her. “Daddy’s taking me to the science museum. He promised me.”

“Don’t feel like imposing, but I know you’ll both have the best time.” Her words were more directed to Harry than Atticus. 

Atty frowns, and then so does Harry.  One and the same they are. 

“Y/N,” Harry finally addresses. 

“I’m going to go get changed,” Atty yells, bringing his plate to Y/N and has her lean down planting a kiss on her cheek. “Breakfast was delicious.”

“Y/N,” Harry starts again once he hears Atticus made it to his room, hearing the door open but not shut. “I want to take you on a date. Last night I was hoping you’d go to the play with me, but you never let me finish and assumed you’d babysit, so I  went with mum instead.” Her eyes go wide, not at all expecting to hear that. “It’s fine,” Harry is quick to reassure her. “but I really do like you. I think you’re amazing, and Atticus is a big fan of you. You fit perfectly in our life, and I’d love the opportunity to explore this with you.” 

She’s surprised not at all seeing this coming. Never once did she think Harry might reciprocate her feelings, but here she heard just that. “Ummm…” she’s at a loss for words. “I feel like an idiot. I’m glad the ticket didn’t go to waste.”

Harry chuckles, “That’s not a problem, love, what I do want to know if you’d like to join my son and me on a date to the science museum.” He’s asked her twice now, and Harry would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous.

“I’d love to, but you have to let me go home and change.” She gestures to her sweats. 

Harry holds back a cheer. “Yes, we’ll pick you up in an hour.” 

She can’t help the smile on her face. “An hour is great.” 

She grabs her bag. Scans the room for any of her belongings and sees that it is clean as she left it last night. “Guess I’ll see you soon.” 

“You will.” He assures her. 

Harry walks her to the door, she slips on her shoes. 

“Bye, Harry” she faces the door and turns back to look at Harry and leans up to kiss his cheek. “I don’t kiss on the first date, especially around a little boy.”

“I’ll wait as long as you want me to.” 

—-

After the first date, it’s not until their fifth that they go out alone. Y/N never letting Harry get someone to watch Atticus, always wanting him to join them, not wanting Atty to feel alone. Harry couldn’t love her anymore for doing that. Not that he’s in love with her already, but he knows he’s pretty darn close. 

He’s never been this happy around a girl, especially one that accepts his son and him so freely. 

Harry finally managed to convince Y/N to go out by promising to make Atticus banana chips pancakes for dinner. 

As much as she wanted to invite herself to join, she couldn’t help but feel like she was taking over their space together. This relationship could very well not work, and it’d leave a very young boy heartbroken, not even mentioning how she’d end up. 

Harry had promised a low key date, and he delivered just that. He set up a table in his backyard with twinkly lights and a bouquet of purple tulips, her favorite. Dinner was covered with grey tops, just like in movies. He even made dessert because he knows how much of a fan she is of her sweets. 

She won’t mention this to Harry because it’ll inflate his ego, but it’s the best date she’s ever been on, and it hasn’t even started. 

“Would you like to take a seat, my lady?” Harry says, keeping up with the charade of pulling out her chair. 

She skips over and courtesies in her beautiful ocean blue dress. “Why yes, thank you, kind sir.” 

She sits and waits for Harry to join her before placing the napkin on her lap. “You didn’t have to do all this, all though I do appreciate it.” 

“You deserve the best, and I hope you’ll let me be the one to give it to you.” Harry’s eyes shine bright with honesty. 

“As long as you let me do the same.” 

Dinner flows by after having an excellent vegetarian paella. Y/N was not aware of how good of a chef Harry was. For dessert, he surprised her with a banoffee pie that Gemma raved about. It’s vegan, and it really was to die for. She had two slices with Harry promising to send her home with the rest. 

They lay on the grass, not at all minding their clothes. Y/N begins to name off constellations, and as much as Harry wants to agree, he sees them he can’t.  

He scoots over, rolling Y/N over to rest her head on his chest, earning him a giggle. “What are you doing?” 

“I want to see the constellations, and this close will help.” 

She leans up to kiss his cheek before laying her head back on his chest. She brings a hand up and slowly follows each star so Harry can follow. “That’s Orion.” 

“Oh, love, I see it. I can see his shield.” 

“That’s right. Orion the Hunter.” 

“Do you know the story?” Harry asks, running his fingers through her hair. 

“Bits and pieces. Orion angered Gaia, so she sent a scorpion to fight him, but he knew he was in a losing battle, so he jumped in the sea. Apollo then pointed to his sister Artemis, the small black object in the sea told her it was a villain and told her to shoot it with her bow and arrow. Artemis hit her target with no trouble. When she saw to retrieve her victim, she discovered that the villain was her friend, Orion. She begged the gods to bring him back, but they all refused. So instead, she put Orion’s picture in the sky so she could always see him.” 

“That’s a bittersweet story,” Harry tells her as soon as she’s finished.

“It is, but what story isn’t.” 

“Ours isn’t,” Harry argues. 

“Isn’t it? You were mean when we first met, then brushed it under the rug. Then fell for me. Or am I wrong?” She smirks. 

“Hey” He sits up now, bringing her up as well. He pulls away from her, and Y/N is just sitting there, giggling. 

“Our story didn’t start there.” Harry crosses his arm in disbelief. 

“All stories start when you first meet, then it builds from there.” She stands up as if she was about to give a speech. “Right away, our story is bitter because you’re rude, and I’m too nice to say anything. Which was bad on my part, won’t ever happen again with anyone else. You say some things about my writing and how you’d never work with me and whatnot. Two months later, we meet at your mother’s house; you’re still hostile, I think it’s the guilt but no death glare.  You apologize, and then I have to leave. We meet randomly at the grocery store, and I’m surprised you keep a conversation going with me. Then invite me to dinner with your son the next day, which I declined because I was leaving that night on red-eye. You told me it would be rain checked. You then texted me, insisting I come to Sunday dinner at your house because Anne, Gemma, and Michael would be there. Anne said I was family and wanted me there. From then on, our friendship just grew. Then you asked me on a date that went over my head, and now we’ve been dating for a month.” 

“Well, you just summed up our story in a long paragraph, you should have written it down,” Harry teases. 

“And guess what,” she says, ignoring his teasing. 

“What, darling?”

“It’s to be continued because we are still writing our story.” A deep grin on her face as she steps closer to him.

“You’re such a cheese ball,” Harry says, reaching for her and pulling her down to his lap to start tickling her. She can’t stop laughing and squirming around his hold, trying to get him to stop. He does so, and in the next second, he is leaning down, connecting their lips together. It’s a beautiful moment; Harry pulls back long enough to let Y/N straddle Harry’s lap. 

Y/N knows she could kiss Harry forever and would never get tired of it. Harry places one last kiss on her lips before letting her forehead rest against his. She swipes her thumb over his bottom lip affectionately; Harry puckers his lips, placing a delicate kiss. She smiles at Harry, always appreciating his acts of affection. Harry places a kiss on her forehead before leaning back a little to get her to look at him. 

“You know I didn’t mean it,” Harry says.

“Mean what?” She pushes his curls back to look at his eyes.

“About not ever working with you.” Harry grabs her face, gently wanting all her attention on him. “It’d be an honor to write a song with you or even pick your brain at lyrics and sound. You’ve won a Grammy.” 

“A Grammy doesn’t mean you’re a great songwriter” She breaks their gaze and begins to chip her nail polish on her left hand. 

“Look at me.” 

She raises her head. “You don’t need any fancy award to know your worth; you know you’re talented. Everyone else can fuck off, including me, for making you feel bad.” He waits for her to nod.

“Thank you, baby.” She kisses his nose. “You’re a talented songwriter as well. You should have seen how I reacted to you not being nominated for the year’s song for ‘sign of the times.’ I called Tyler and just ranted for a good ten minutes.” 

Harry furrows his eyebrows at this new information. “You did that, and you’d never met me before.” 

“I know talent and ‘sign of the times’ had it all. Still does.” 

“Now, I definitely need you in the studio.” 

She laughs, resting her head in the crook of his neck. “We’ll work something out.” 

“Will you let me show you how much I care tonight?” His gentle hands resting on her hips, always waiting for her consent.  

“Always, Harry, always.” 

“How about out here,” He kisses down her neck until reaching her collarbone. “Under the stars?” he makes her pull her dress lower. 

She laughs but not at all stopping him. He peppers kisses all around, needing his lips on her body now more than ever. Her laugh turns to a moan eager for him to continue. 

There under the stars, Y/N knows her life could not be any better. She’s falling in love, and she hopes she never stops falling.

—-

“I’m going to LA for two weeks.” Y/N shares as she lets the pasta cook. They are having a nice night in celebrating their three month anniversary. 

“Oh nice, what for?” Harry asks, placing the finished salad on the table. 

“A few meetings with the team, a few songs I want to pitch to different artists.” She turns to look at him and sees him thinking. 

“Well, I’m supposed to head out there for studio time in a week; why don’t we just head there with you now. I mean, if you’d like the company.” Harry meets her eyes with a shy smile on his face.

“That would be nice, but would Atticus want to come? It’s such a short notice my flight is in two days.” 

“Baby, he loves the ocean. Also, I have lots of friends who he loves and hasn’t seen in forever. Jenny’s kids are his best friends when we are there. I’m sure they won’t mind us crashing there.” 

Y/N nods, remembering he sold his LA not wanting to live there anymore missing home, missing London. 

“Or” Y/N steps closer to Harry, grabbing his left hand to get his eyes on her. “You could stay at my house. It’s a beautiful place in Malibu. Three bedrooms, my office, if you want to call it that, the guest room where Atticus can be alone if you’re comfortable with that. Then my bedroom. You’re welcome to sleep with Atticus in a nice queen size bed or with me in my bed where I can keep you warm.” She leans in close, and Harry smirks at her teasing. 

“That’s very kind of you. Got to ask one more person before the choice can be made.” Harry calls for Atticus, who is in the living room, watching a movie waiting for dinner. 

“Yes, Daddy.” 

“Come here for a sec, bud.” Atticus walks over to where they are standing and turns to face Y/N raising his arms to have her sit him on the countertop. She bends down and sets him down gently, kisses his cheek as she takes a step closer to Harry’s side so Atticus can look at them both. 

She looks over at Harry, and he nods for her to ask. 

“Do you like Los Angeles, Atticus?” She runs a hand through his soft curls. Bright eyes looking at her with a small smile. 

“Yes, there’s a lot of suns. Daddy always takes me to the beach.” His dimple on display as if he’s reflecting back to those times.

“Well, how do you feel about the three of us heading to Los Angeles together, and you can stay at my house. It’s only a five-minute walk from the ocean. I’ve got busy afternoons, but I’m all yours in the morning and by sunset.” 

Atticus nods, following along. “Your Daddy tells me you have friends there to visit as well, I bet they miss you.” 

Harry smiles at the interaction between Y/N and Atticus. It’s sweet and natural. 

He knows it’s only been three months and known her for five, but he’s never felt this way about someone. He’s a dad, and although he might be famous, it throws people for a loop, not wanting to be tied down. 

The difference with Y/N is that she met his son first and still gave him a chance. He’s going to do everything he can to not mess up. 

“Daddy,”

“Yes, bub.” 

“Do you want to go with Y/N?”

“Course I do, but if you want to stay here at home, we can.” Harry leaves the decision up to his son. 

Atticus nods and thinks. He reaches for Y/N’s hand, “You wouldn’t be upset if I said no.” 

Y/N brings up the hand he’s holding and kisses his small hand. 

“I would be sad, but I’d understand. Would never make you do something you don’t want to do.” 

“Okay,” Atticus leans over, and as does Harry, they whisper quietly as Y/N goes to strain the pasta and begins to heat the sauce. She learned to make a homemade tomato sauce when she took cooking classes during her time in Italy. She lived there for two months, and if asked, she’d moved there in a heartbeat well she would have before Harry and Atticus. Now she doesn’t picture her life without them. 

As she folds the pasta in with the sauce, she tells the two boys still chatting at the table to finish setting the table. Dinner would be ready in five. They are quick to get to work. Harry comes over with two white plates and a small green one for Atticus.

“Thank you for dinner, Y/N,” Atticus says as Harry places his plate in front of him. 

“Oh, what about me?” Harry argues. 

“What did you make, Daddy?”

“The yummy and healthy salad,” Harry says in a duh tone.

“That’s too easy, did you know Y/N makes the sauce from scratch?” Atticus defends. 

“Well, I cut up the lettuce, tomatoes, and carrots.” 

“You can work harder next week, Daddy.” 

Y/N can’t help but laugh at the interaction. It’s too sweet, and she knows Atticus has a soft spot for her just like she does for him.

She noticed the glances the two share as she eats, and just as they finish. She’s about to bring out brownie bites that she made for dessert, but first, she makes them look at her and finally tells her their decision.

“What’s the verdict, gentlemen?” She says, placing the brownies in front of her, not at all in their reach. “Is LA a go, or will you be staying home without my cooking and deserts?” 

Harry bends his head to think it over looking at Atticus to do the same. Instead, Atticus shouts, “Yes, we’re coming!” 

Y/N laughs, knowing Harry lost him when she mentioned missing her cooking. 

“Atty thought we were a team. Have her wait a bit.” 

Atty giggles a brownie in his mouth already. “Sorry, Daddy, but I like her cooking better than yours.”

Harry places his hands over his chest in shock. “At least now I know where I stand.” 

Y/N laughs. “This is going to be so fun.” She directs her attention to Atticus. “I can take you on a date, we can go to the Science Center. Then a nice dinner because I’m sure we’ll spend all day there. Then on Sunday, we can wake up early and head to the local farmer’s market.” 

Atticus grins the dimple deep on his face. “Oh, will we take photos on your film camera?” 

“Of course, you’re getting better at it. It’ll be good for us to try sunset pictures.” 

Atticus smiles down at his plate, lost in thought. 

Harry smiles at their happiness. “On one condition.” Y/N nods, waiting for him to go on. “You let me buy your plane ticket. Want us to sit together.” 

“I already have a plane ticket.” She tries to argue although she doesn’t know why she’d want to. “I mean, that’d be nice of you. Thank you.” 

Harry nods, grabbing her hand and leaving a kiss on her palm. A blush rises to her cheek as it always does. 

“Dibs on sitting next to Y/N!” That grabs both their attention. 

“Bub, when are you going to share her with me?” 

Atticus laughs, no shame at his dad’s frowning face. “She was my friend first, and she loves me the most.” 

Atticus and Harry are in a heated staring contest, and Harry caves. “Alright, man, I get it.”

Atticus excuses himself to play in his room. Y/N assured him she and Harry can do the dishes, but he doesn’t leave until he hears Harry says he’s going to do them since Y/N did the cooking. 

“My kid loves you.” 

Y/N blushes, standing up, kissing Harry’s cheek, taking the dishes to the sink. “Good thing I love him just the same. He’s an angel.” 

Harry’s heart grows ten times its size hearing that. “what about his dad, do you love him?” They’ve never said the L-word, but he loves her. He does. He’s just been waiting for a moment, and it’s finally here. 

“Eh, he’s alright.” She’s facing away from him, trying her best not to laugh. 

“Alright, just alright.” Harry is trying to sound stern, knowing she’s joking, seeing her shoulders move slightly. 

“Well, yes. He’d be better if he was a better cook, but he’s an amazing dad, so he makes up for it.” Harry is now behind her, arms around her waist. She twists in his hold to look him in the eyes. 

“What about a boyfriend, is he a good boyfriend?” Harry’s teasing but also a bit serious.

“The sweetest couldn’t be treated any better. Not to mention he’s great with his hands.” 

Harry smirks. “Yeah, and why’s that?” 

She smirks back at him. “Yeah, you should see him play guitar. It’s beautiful; think he put a spell on me.” 

Harry brings his hand up to stroke her cheek. “Would that be so bad?” 

“No,” she turns her head to kiss the inside of his palm. “I hope it never ends.” 

“Think he feels the same way.” 

Y/N smiles softly. “A girl would hope so.” 

Harry leans in to kiss her lips; they brush gently before she closes the distance. This is different; it’s full of power and affection but filled with so much love. She feels like she’d float away if it wasn’t for the hold Harry has on her waist. There is nothing sweeter than knowing you’re loved than by the person who has captured your heart. She wants to remember this moment; she can’t wait to relive it over and over again in her head. 

“I love you,” he rests his forehead on hers. “I love you, and I’ll say it for as long as you let me.” 

“Harry, I love you.” she has tears in her eyes. “I love you, and I love Atticus. I’ll be here in both your lives for as long as you allow me.” 

Harry can’t help but kiss her again, this one faster, more desire in the kiss. It’s as easy as breathing for them. He pulls away, bringing a hand up to brush her hair back. “I’m keeping you forever.”

“Perfect.”

Y/N leans in and pecks his lips three times and settles down in his arms. She lays her head on his chest, smiling at his accelerated heartbeat. He wraps his arms around her squeezing her tight. 

In the kitchen, they stand holding each other, swaying slowly to the beat of their hearts. 

—-

The flight to Los Angeles was long but smooth. Atticus was well behaved and slept most of the time, not being able to stay awake long. He liked conversing with the flight attendants when he was awake. He was curious about how they worked and how much they traveled and if they felt jet-lagged. He’s got a real way with people. 

Y/N let Atticus pick her movie, and he chose Coco. He slept halfway through and finished it even if it did make her tear up. Harry noticed and poked her from across the aisle. She smiled at him. He let her know The Princess Bride was there. It’s sweet he checked that for her. She wanted to chat with Harry more, but the aisle was not their friend.  

Y/N’s best friend Alicia, her friend since high school, picked them up at the airport. 

Y/N went to the UK to study, and Analisa stayed in LA for university and became a music producer. Together they’ve done lots of work, known as a famous duo in LA. Analisia is one reason she will always come to visit this city she used to call home.

Atticus was excited to meet her, and Analisia told him many stories about Y/N like when she took Analisia to the beach for the first time after getting her license but never letting her get out of the car. She wasn’t the best parallel parker at sixteen. Harry was pleased to meet one of her close friends seeing as she’s met more of his. He knows she preferred being alone back at home, only ever spending time with him and her parents. 

It was late, so they stopped for pizza and got dropped off. Analisia promised to stop by another day for dinner because she had to meet her parents for dinner. 

Once arriving, she gave them the grand tour of her living room with photos around on all the walls and a large bookcase on one side of the wall filled with books. She told Atticus those are all the books she bought and got gifted as a child. He got so excited and promised to read some while they were there. 

The guest room was painted pastel green, a light gray carpet. The room had its own bathroom, a window outlooking the ocean. It whites thin curtains so the sun would shine during the day. The bed was centered in the middle with four pillows and a black duvet. There was a six drawer dresser and a chair in the corner. Atticus approved and couldn’t wait to get unpacked. They made it to her room with a balcony overlooking the ocean, and it felt nice being there hearing the waves crashing against the shore. Harry looked around, smiling at the queen-sized bed and white comforter. Above her bed, a wooden board said, “Music can change the world - Beethoven.” It was perfect. He looks over at the wall across the balcony that has vinyl’s hanging. It’s different genres, not at all following a theme. 

“That was my mom’s idea. She put the albums they showed me as kids up. Top four were hers, and the bottom four were dad’s.” 

Harry stops in front of a signed Victim of Love album. “Your dad was a man of great taste.” 

“Indeed, he was.” She sits on her bed, letting Harry continue to roam around 

“Is this you?” Harry grabbed a photo of a little girl dressed in overalls with a lollipop in her hands, standing proudly.

“Yes, I was maybe two or three. Our annual Disney trip and my parents had bought me one of those lollipops that were ridiculously big. Very proud of the outfit.” Y/N laughs, looking at it before Harry sets it back down on the bedside table. 

“You were precious.” He pecks her nose, and she scrunches it, causing him to laugh. “Even more precious now.” 

She leads him out of the room and heads downstairs to her private sanctuary, her writing room. 

Harry is in awe when he walks in. His eyes land on the shelf with awards but not some are missing. It clearly displays two missing spots. 

“Where are the missing ones?” Harry points.

“At my mom’s. I had a bit of a moment where I couldn’t even look at any of them.” She brushes the wood, getting dust on her fingers. “I told mom she should display them in her home. She was glad to.” 

“What do you mean?” 

She turns to face Harry. “You know when you write and as much as work you do, you can’t help but feel you did nothing to earn that. That is what those felt. I was in rock bottom for a while, but I had a good support system that helped me out.” 

“Sweetheart,” 

She laughs. “Don’t. It’s all fine.” 

Harry drops it and, in turn, faces the largest object in the room.

The beautiful mahogany piano standing out more than anything else in the room. It shines as if brand new, but Harry can see it’s not. Especially with the chip on the bench that says otherwise. 

There is a desk against the wall with papers scattered as if they haven’t been touched in months, which they haven’t. There are paintings on the wall that look like they were made by kids. 

“My friends drew some of those when I have them over, and if they have kids, I have them draw me something, whatever they want. I ask them to sign it and then have it framed.” Y/N traces over a rainbow with stars falling from the sky. “It’s them leaving their mark just as I am.” 

“That’s beautiful.” Harry can’t stop staring, seeing that there’s so many.

Atticus comes running in and stops when he sees the paintings before landing on the piano. Harry knows Atticus hasn’t really tried any instruments, but he swears he sees his son’s eyes shine, catching the piano. 

Y/N follows his line of sight and grins. “My parents got it for me on my sixth birthday.” Y/N doesn’t share that it was basically a divorce present but knows that she wouldn’t be where she was today without the divorce. 

“It’s my favorite thing in my house. I wish I could take it home with me.” She sits on the bench, Atticus quickly joining her. 

She starts playing a slow tune that Harry is quick to recognize as a ‘Songbird’.

“Why don’t you?” 

She doesn’t slow her playing. “If I stop coming here, I feel like I’m forgetting my father; this keeps me close to him. Maybe one day, I will but not now. It’s nice to escape to London because yes, this area was once my home but not anymore. I just have the fondest memories here.” 

“What happened to your dad?” Atticus asks softly, placing a hand gently over hers that’s moving over the keys. 

“He got sick and went to a better place.” Y/N knows he’s a smart boy but still can’t bring herself to say he died to the young boy. 

“I’m sorry, that must have been hard.” 

Y/N grins. She places a gentle kiss on his forehead. “Thank you, sweet boy.” 

“Now, the sun is still bright. How about we go play with the sand for a little play and maybe in the water. I got the tools to build a sandcastle.” 

The small boy’s eyes light up. “Daddy, can we?” 

“Course we can. I’ll get your suit out and mine so we can go.” 

Atticus runs to his room for the time being. 

Harry kisses Y/N, and she giggles. “Go change, I will go as well. Also, got to get the bucket and shovels from the garage.”

“Can you wear the yellow one?” Harry says, slapping her butt cheekily. 

She spins around, her mouth dropped open. “How do you know about the yellow one?” It’s her prettiest one but not appropriate with Atticus around. 

“I might have sneaked a book in your suitcase, and that was on top.” 

“Well, now you won’t see me in that one for a long time.” She walks out a sway to her hips. 

Harry stares in a trance as she walks away. 

Harry knows they are in for a great trip to Los Angeles.

—-

Harry invites her to the studio. “Atty is with Jenny and her kids. You’ve got nothing to do.” He shrugs as if there’s no reason to say no. 

“Sure, who’s going to be there.” She slips on a thin sweater and black leggings, sliding on her Vans with bees on them that Analisia gifted to her as a “thanks for coming to visit” gift. 

“Tyler, Mitch, Tom, and uh… me.” 

“Let’s do it.” She feigns confidence. 

They head over, and the men are very kind in greeting her. She feels welcome in the studio with them. Everyone continues their conversations, and Harry pulls her to sit next to him at the piano. 

“How much of the album is done?” She ponders as she looks at Harry’s songbook, the rest on top of the piano. 

“Most of it got a few songs left.” 

“Where’s Helene?” She looks around, knowing Harry said she was going to make an appearance. She is sad that Sarah isn’t there also. Over the last few months, they’ve gotten along well, becoming part of their group. Honestly, she’s a big fan of Sarah’s talent, no shame in admitting her girl crush on her. 

Harry breaks her out of her trance. “Sorry, what did you say?” 

He smiles at her brushing a piece of hair back. “I’ve never heard you sing.” 

She shrugs, “I dabbled in it a bit.” 

“Sing for me.” 

“Harry,” he pouts, “that only works if you’re under three feet tall.”

“I’ll get on my knees.”  

“Dork.” She shoves him lightly as he continues to laugh. “What song are you working on?”

“Adore You, about the bliss joy of connecting with someone. I just can’t seem to get the words out.” Harry blushes red, explaining. 

She doesn’t react like he expects her to. He knows she means business now. Harry grabs the sheet that has the lyrics and hands it to her. She stares at it softly, reading it out. “Do you have how you want it to sound? Piano, drums, trumpets?” She jokes, looking around the room before focusing back on Harry.

“Yes,” Harry asks Tyler to play what they have. 

She nods along, mouthing the lyrics. “What’s missing for you?” 

She looks around the room to the men once more; they shrug, looking at Harry.

“Only got the chorus, so the rest.” 

“That’s what I just read, right?” He nods 

“Okay.”

She turns to face the keys and begins to play the melody. She nods at Harry to sing, and he does, he stops, but she keeps playing. 

“Close your eyes,” She tells him, and he gives her a weird look before doing as she says, “What do you see?” 

“Darkness.” He answers, feeling ridiculous 

“H, close your eyes and feel the music. You got to trust me.”

It’s a few seconds before she repeats her question and gets a reply.

“I see a rainbow paradise, strawberry lips and eyes, your eyes.” She feels her face heat up but nods. 

“Give me a second.” She grabs a notebook out of her bag and opens it up. She sings under her breath. “I’ve got it.” She locks eyes with Mitch before turning to harry. “Sing it,” handing it over to Harry. 

“No,” Mitch says, which surprises you. “Need to hear how it sounds in your head out loud so he can copy.” 

“Right, I know that. I’m just nervous. If I’m honest, I’m not used to working with only men. I know it’s a male-dominated industry, but I’ve mainly collaborated with women and the few men I did reach out to me.” She has only ever worked with Tyler, so there isn’t much trust in the group yet.

“Hey, love, relax. It’s a safe place. No one is accusing or saying you’re doing bad. Let us hear it,” Harry grabs her hand, giving a squeeze before letting go so she can place it back on the keys.

“Okay,” she moves her fingers on the key, keeping her eyes on the notebook set in front of her. A deep breath before her voice fills the room. “Walk in your rainbow paradise, strawberry lipstick state of mind; I get so lost inside your eyes, would you believe it?” 

Just as she was about to stop, Harry jumped in. “You don’t have to say you love me; you don’t have to say nothing; you don’t have to say you’re mine.”

Harry continues into the chorus, and she’s in awe. His voice is unique; he has full control of it being able to create a beautiful song. He lets his voice fade out as he reaches the end of the chorus. 

Everyone sits in silence when she lets the piano slowly fade out as well.

Harry and Y/N sit in silence. The others are sharing looks between themselves. 

“Y/n, you got a hell of a voice,” Tom compliments. 

“Thank you” She lets her head fall on Harry’s shoulder, not used to the compliment. 

“Never think of going to sing in front of people?” Mitch asks. 

“No, I played bars, and it was decent pay to keep afloat but not what I want to do. I want to write and give music back. Even if it’s not my voice singing it, I had this crazy dream once that I sang one song in front of the audience, and it went dead silent, no sound, no applause, so I took it as a literal sign.” She giggles at her ridiculous dream. 

They continue, and by the end of a few hours, the song is complete. Harry wrote the second verse because he saw Y/N take off her sweater and exposed her skin, looking even more beautiful due to their time under the sun. He wrote it down so fast he summed the pen in on his hand. Y/N wrote the bridge and sang it. Tyler and Harry liked how it sounded, and Mitch looked on the fence about it. 

Harry had just finished singing it all the way through when Mitch suggests Y/N is the one to sing the bridge and be the background vocals through the final chorus. Harry looks at her, letting her know it’s up to her. 

She nods, saying they should try it. She gets in the booth, and it’s a breeze. They only have her do it two times. She hurries out to the seat next to Tyler, telling him to play it. He plays with a few more buttons until he hits the one she wants. 

It fills the room, all nodding along. Y/N’s buzzing in her seat, loving the sound of Harry’s voice. She sits still when she hears herself on the record, the smile slowly dropping. She startles as Harry sets a hand on her shoulder, a solemn look on his face. Think he added more nerves than calming them. 

The silence is overwhelming as they wait for Harry to say something-anything. “Looks like we finished a new song for the album.

They all break out into collective cheers. Tyler pulls her into a tight hug before he lets Harry steal her away. Harry wants to kiss her but knows how she feels about PDA, so he settles on two forehead kisses.

Harry decides to call it a day, telling Mitch, Tyler, and Tom to go home. Tom tells them he will drop Atticus off after dinner, knowing it’s hard to get them to say goodbye even if they have had a whole day together. 

Harry and Y/N sit back on the couch. Enjoying the fading buzz of writing a song together, not believing how fast it happened. He is in awe of how quickly she works, how easily she can play a melody that comes to her in seconds. It’s a talent he’s never seen before, and one hopes he can see again soon. 

“Is anyone still here?” She asks, knowing they’ve been there for a while, basking in the quietness of the studio. 

He shrugs. “Interns and a few in the offices. Why?” 

“Just wondering.” 

She sits up, beginning to pack her things in her backpack, making sure she didn’t misplace anything. More than likely, if she did, Harry can return it for her. 

“Plans tomorrow?” Harry asks her, shuffling his head into her lap.

“No concrete plans, but I do want to take Atticus to Echo Park. They have pedal boats in the shape of a swan. I know he’d like it.” She runs her hand through his hair. It’s a mess from the long studio day. “That’s okay, right? It’s cause I know you’re going to be in the studio tomorrow and aren’t sure what time you’re out.”

“You’re fine, honey. It’s nice knowing you have plans already, excited to go out with Atty.” 

“Well, our days are counted. You have the Gucci Cruise in Italy, meaning you’re both leaving me. I’ll be here until the first of June, then see you both back in London.” 

“Atticus asked me if he could stay with you” That took her by surprise. She would love to but knows it’s not an option, at least not yet, and not when Harry will be across the ocean. “He was sad about it. I felt bad saying no.”

She cups his cheek gently, forcing him to look at her. “You don’t have to explain it to me. I understand very well. He’s your baby; the safest place is by your side, and if not you, then Anne’s. I remember you’re a father first.” 

Harry’s eyes show nothing but love. She understands it’s not that he doesn’t trust her because he does one hundred percent, but if something were to happen, he wanted to be as close to him as possible. He’s serious about Y/N just as he knows she is about him. “Thank you, honey.”

Harry leans his head on her chest as he guides her to lie down. He knows they should leave soon, but honestly, he could stay here forever. He feels safe, cared for, but most importantly, loved. 

She leans down to kiss him, silently thanking him for the day they’ve had together. Harry surprises her by raising his hand to cradle her cheek and deepening the kiss. She tries her best to hold back a moan; Harry slowly begins to sit up, not wanting to break their kiss. He pushes her back until she’s the one lying on her back. His lips trail down to her neck, and he begins to suck lightly, wanting to see her marked up for him. She releases the moan she had been holding, hands in his hair, keeping him in place. Harry smirks, knowing he is going to get exactly what he wants. 

He shifts down, his hands groping her breasts. He feels her bra through the thin black shirt and knows there is not much separating them. He slips his hands under, pushing it up, revealing a plain black bra with small white flowers. He silently asks if he can remove it, and she quickly agrees. Harry slips the shirt and bra off at the same time. He’s not one to waste time. 

He leans down, peppering kisses around her breasts. He opened his mouth over the nipple and drew it into his mouth in a long, slow pull. Her hips buck up against his, and he knows she feels how hard he is for her. 

“Baby, please?” She breathes out. He sucked harder, pressing his whole mouth into her plump flesh, then moved to the other breast. He didn’t rush; he gave a long delicious draw, circling the tip with his tongue, then sucking again. 

The soft whimpers she released was music to his ears, making him even harder.  

“What is it you need, honey?” He kisses down her abdomen, his hand toying with the waistband of the leggings she has on. “Tell me, and I’ll give it to you.” 

“I need” She’s having a hard time forming her thoughts together. “Need you to” She shakes her head, not bringing herself to say it. 

Harry slides down her legging and sees just how soaked she is for him. Harry moans at her distinct smell that is just for him. 

A single finger, he runs over her damped panties. She moans at the touch. Harry knows he’s teasing her but can’t say he doesn’t enjoy it. He knows it’s too much, and she won’t say it, and he’ll never pressure her to do so.

“I’ll tell you what, I want you to come on my tongue.” 

She whimpers in response. 

He smirks, he leans down, opens her thighs more to give him a beautiful view, one that he will never get tired of looking. He kisses her inner thigh, working his way closer to her center. He continues to lick and kiss her through her panties, inhaling the scent. “Is that what you wanted, baby?” He knows it isn’t, but he enjoys these moments with her because he won’t be able to stop once he starts. She shakes her head. “No.” 

She grabs his hair pulling him back, giving herself enough room to remove her panties as quickly as she can before guiding his head down to right where she needs him. Harry smirks, knowing she’s had enough of his foreplay. 

“Oh, you want me here, baby. Why didn’t you just say so?” 

He smiled at her one last time, and then his mouth was on her sweet, slick folds. She let her head fall back, enjoying the pleasure he was bringing her. Harry sought out her bead, and when he found it, sucked hard and without mercy until he coaxed a moan from her. He licked along with her wetness right before his tongue plunged inside. The moan turned into a gasp, then a curse as his fingers took his tongue’s place. Right when he knew she was on edge, he pulled back, softly kissing her clit and massaging her thighs. 

“Have to be quiet. Can’t have anyone else hearing how good I make you feel, now can we?” She moans before biting down on her lip to stop herself. 

She was ready to beg for him to keep going when he did so with no warning. With tongue and fingers, he built the pleasure again, and this time when she reached the peak, he pushed her right over the edge. 

She gripped his shoulder, and she cried out as her body shuddered in Harry’s hands. She let herself relax, catching her breath as Harry leaned towards her lips, kissing her while the orgasm coursed its way through her body. The taste of herself on his lips aroused her more, and she clung on to him. 

She lets Harry get one last kiss before she pushes him back. “Clothes off now.” She tells Harry as she looks over his outfit, wanting to see the beautiful tattoo’s he’s hiding. She always wants to see them. 

“Bossy.” He teases. Harry begins to take off each article of clothing, slowly putting on a show for her. He tosses her his pink velvet flares exposing how he was not wearing anything underneath. She knows how much he enjoys his breathing room. She giggles, tossing the flares back at him. 

“Sit, baby.” She pats the couch, and he does as she says before she moves to straddle his lap. He feels how wet she still is and can’t help the groan that escapes him. “That’s right, H. You got me this wet, all for you.” 

He grips her waist tight, knowing there will be bruises there in place tomorrow. 

“I love riding your thigh. You know that, baby.” She leans forward her chest against his as she leaves small kisses up his throat until she reaches his lips. “But tonight, I just want to ride you until you cum deep inside me.” Harry lets out a moan at her filthy words wanting to be in her. 

Harry was ready to capture his lips against hers when she pulled back. “Honey.” He whines. 

“You had your fun, now let me.” 

She reaches her right hand down to wrap around his length. Harry keeps his eyes on her face loving to see the expressions she makes. He knows it won’t take long to cum just like this, and she knows that. He knows what she’s waiting for, and he’ll happily give it to her.

“Honey, baby, please.” He throws his head back as he feels her hand move up and down on his length.

“Okay, baby.” 

She places her hands on his shoulder, giving him back the control. He rubbed his cock between her folds, then lifted her by her hips and plunged inside, filling her to the hilt in one move. They moaned together, and she moved her hips, riding him slowly at first. But then he bucked into her, and she gave up any control she was starting to get back. Her hands dug into his shoulders, and Harry hissed, welcoming the mix of pain and pleasure. 

Her orgasm built and crashed over her unexpectedly, and the next thing she knows, she is on her back. Harry spread her legs with his knees then buried himself inside her all over again. Her back arched off the couch, deepening the angle as he thrust in her. She never wanted him to stop. Harry groaned loudly, his body quivering as he held himself inside. They trembled together as he sank back to the couch and slipped free, then drew her against his body. They lay facing each other, slowly catching their breaths, and Y/N smiled. 

Harry kisses her forehead wanting to have his lips on her as close as he could. She’s not sure how long they lay there in the silence, just staring at one another. Taking in every detail of his face, Harry was doing the same. He isn’t sure when his hand started to trace the tattoo on her ribcage, but it caught his attention when she laughed, saying it tickled. 

“Do you know who you are?” Harry says, not stopping the tracing, “you’ve never told me the meaning of it.” 

“Just always remembering to question myself if I’m genuine and real. Giving myself the freedom to let go of things from the past and move forward. Self- acceptance was hard but probably my most important journey.” She realizes she went on a ramble. “Sorry, probably a bit too much to share.”

He kisses her softly. “Thank you for sharing that. Always here to listen.” 

“You’re welcome. I trust you.” Harry blushes, and he can’t hide it. She makes him feel every emotion in the best way.

“And I adore you.” Harry sprinkles kisses on her neck. She hums, enjoying the feeling, never one to discourage his affection.

Harry lets her words replay in his head. He was holding onto so much from the past, and for what? For it to hold him down. No, he was a father, and he was in a great place in life, especially now.

From when he first started writing albums to now, he has felt a shift in who he is. He’s more generous, he doesn’t lose his temper as much anymore, but most importantly, he has allowed himself to fall in love. He may not have known who he was at the start of this journey at 22, now at 25, he knows who he is, and he may not know where he might exactly end up, but he does know who he wants by his side. 

“Do you know who you are?” He sings softly in her ear. “Know who you are. Do you know who you are?” 

She hums, taking it in before sitting up, startling him. “Harry, that’s amazing. Keep going.” She gets up, throwing on his shirt, and sitting at the piano. “Sing that again.” 

She lets herself sway to his voice, finding the highs and lows. “Okay, I need you to start recording.” 

Harry slips into his pants quickly, then grabs his phone to record her without question. He sets her phone on a voice memo, and he brings his phone up to record her. 

Harry lets her play, and she goes for roughly two minutes. It’s the sweetest tune he’s heard her play. To think she just came up with it now, playing only a few keys before diving right in. She stops and brings her left hand up to run through her hair to get her nerves out. 

“This would be like the stripped-down version; once you add guitar, bass, and drums, you’ll get something even better. I think the lyrics are a great start.” 

“That was beautiful. I’m so in love with you right now.” She slaps her hands over her face, overwhelmed by the compliment as if this is the first time he’s confessing his love. “You got that out in a matter of minutes.” 

“That has never happened before.” She confesses, playing the audio back. “You have to show them tomorrow.”

She wasn’t expecting him to ask her to come back the next day, but she only promised half a day, still wanting to spend time with Atticus, and Harry agreed. 

By the time Harry leaves Los Angeles, Y/n has co-written three songs with him. Tyler was like a proud dad when the songs were played for him, and well, Tom had taken a liking to her wanting to know about the work she had done and if she had anything new she was working on. And well, Mitch had already called her his friend but began to show her more chords on the guitar. He even played her a solo bit he had for one of the songs on the album, and she nearly lost it, too in awe of his talent. 

This album did not have the brightest start, but now he realized it was meant to be at the end of the journey. To enjoy the happiest moments of life, he was experiencing. 

—

“You ready?” 

“Course not!” She reaches out a hand for his phone. “Hit play.”

“I wanted to thank you, those last three songs would not have happened without you.” Harry honestly believes that May was the last bit needed for the finished album before narrowing down the exact songs he wanted. 

“It’s my job. It’s what I do.” She does a hair flip to get him to laugh, but his mouth stays flat.

Harry grabs her hand. “It wasn’t just a job.” His voice stern, his irises locked with hers.

“It wasn’t.” She manages to breathe out. 

“I felt so close to you, it was me letting you in one hundred percent heart open, and you accepted it all.” Harry leans in for a kiss that she happily reciprocates. 

“I love you, you cheesehead; now let me listen to this masterpiece.” She’s practically buzzing, knowing she’s seconds away from the first song.

“Right, okay.” He looks up from the phone. “Wait out loud or earphones.” 

He smacks him with a pillow. “Turn the lights low and hit play.” Harry gets up and turns them low enough to still see her face. Before he hits play, she sits up from her, lying down in the bed. 

“Atty won’t wake up, right? Shouldn’t we check on him first?” She is about to run out when Harry grabs her wrist, stopping her.

“You’re perfect.” Harry kisses her lips, distracting her from leaving. “He’s fine. You tired him out at the park today. He’s going to sleep through the night, we can check on him after if you want.” 

Y/N nods. She fluffs the pillow and settles against the headboard. 

Harry’s finger hovers over the play button. He’s tense. 

“You alright, H?” She places a hand on his back gently to not startle him.

He turns his body towards her. “You’ve been really patient, never pressuring me to show you the album.” She nods, letting him know she’s listening. “These past six months together have been a dream. Honestly, it feels like we’ve been together for years as crazy as it is to say.” Harry takes a deep breath gathering his thoughts. He takes her hands in his pressing kisses to both. “The next few months are going to be hard. I have the album releasing in December, but there is so much between now and then. A lot is coming our way and what I want to know is if you’ll be here with us through it or leave me. This is an out if you want it because I will be focusing on the album and Atticus. You’re a priority, and don’t ever forget that as well, but it will get to be a lot.”

Her heart breaks for Harry, who knows how long he has kept this to himself. She shuffles until she’s right in front of him, she gently places both hands on his face, and their eyes lock. His emerald eyes are filled with unshed tears. “Listen carefully, I love you. I have never in my life loved anyone as much as I love you. It’s this feeling of being complete and full of life. I feel invincible with you by my side.

But most importantly, I fell in love with the father you are to Atticus. He is a real angel, and he learns that from his father. This relationship is more than you and. From the start, I’ve known that if I didn’t see a long future with you, trust me when I say I would have stopped this before anything started. It won’t be easy, but it also won’t be wrong. You’re my best friend, and I want nothing else but to see you succeed. Whenever you need me, I will be by your side.” Harry is left speechless at her words. She means everything to him. She grins when she sees the corner of his mouth begin to twitch.  

“What if I need you by my side the entire time?” He sniffles, letting his tears fall as she tries her best to wipe them away.

“Then, that is where I’ll be.” 

Harry kissed her. 

There wasn’t a moment of hesitation. His mouth was on hers, and she stopped breathing. Little shivers of pleasure shot through her as he deepened the kiss, parting her lips. Her heart swelled to the near point of bursting. Each kiss always felt this magical, as if nothing would ever feel as good. 

She pulled back, resting her forehead against his, their breath mixing together. She could feel his stare on her, so she smiled at him, keeping her eyes close. Harry kissed one final kiss to her lips before laying back with her head on his chest. 

Finally hitting play. 

For the next forty-seven minutes, she stayed silent, taking in every word that Harry had sung. From the sweet tune, Golden shared, wanting to get in the car and just drive down the coast with it on repeat. As beautiful and uplifting the beat was, she could feel the sadness in the lyrics. It tore her heart to know he went through so much heartbreak but not anymore, not if she could help it. 

It transitioned to Watermelon Sugar, a summer hit she was sure of. Hearing the trumpets on the chorus made her sit up, her eyes sparkling with joy, Harry letting out a small laugh at her excitement. He knew trumpets were perfect. 

Sitting up now, Harry could see how her eyes began to water as she heard his voice sing the lyrics she helped him create. Their song, so to speak. She closes her eyes before blindly reaching for Harry’s hand that he happily intertwines with hers. 

Harry knows there’s no stopping the tears for Lights Up. After explaining to her the lyrics, he wrote during the night as she slept on his chest, how, when he began to write this album, he had no clue where it would take him. How his guiding light was always Atticus. Then she walked in charm and all and put together the last missing puzzle piece in his life. They want to be loved and love in return freely. 

Harry was nervous when Cherry started to play. It was about his last girlfriend, one he had coffee with a month into his relationship with Y/N because he wanted to use a voice memo he had of her that went perfectly with the song, and he needed her permission. He dated her for two months and was falling hard. The only problem was she never made plans involving Atticus or asked questions to get to know him. He broke it off when she told him he assumed a nanny did all the raising for him. He never wanted to be that parent as busy as his life was. It was hard to read her facial expression but felt comforted by three squeezes on the hand, holding hers. 

Falling was a song she had heard but didn’t mean to. She had met up with Tom for coffee one day in London, and he offered her a ride back. He began to talk about this song he wrote in twenty minutes and thought nothing of it until he pressed play. She didn’t play him, probably thought Harry had shown her everything he had already, but that wasn’t the case. She could never bring herself to tell him to pause it, to lose with the hurt of the song. It felt like a lot of pain. Y/N was quick to say to him once it ended that Harry wouldn’t show her the album until it was complete. Tom called Harry as soon as they pulled up her flat. Harry laughed it off, saying it was fine. Then playfully scolded Tom for ruining his first reaction of it. 

To Be So Lonely, had her swaying side to side. “This is a Mitch song.” Harry nodded because Mitch had sent him the music complete, and Harry went off to write the lyrics just as quickly. She smirked when Harry called himself an “arrogant son of a bitch”. Harry couldn’t wait to discuss her thoughts on each song after. 

She proceeded to leave her speechless. The guitar solo had her jaw on the floor. When he informed her that was all Mitch, she sent him a message sending him all her praise and one too many emojis. Then turned her phone off, throwing it to the end of the bed out of reach. Sunflower Vol. 6 was beautiful. The reflection of the best parts of a relationship. The boops at the end of the song have her giggling. It was inspired by Atticus and how Harry would make those noises to get Atticus to laugh when he was a few months old. 

Canyon Moon was about home; Harry and Atticus had become her home. She knew this song would be added to her playlists for when she had two leave these two special people behind when she went on trips, or they did.

Treat People was a song Harry told her he talked to Jeff about writing but wasn’t sure how he felt. He didn’t bring it up, and neither did she until he heard her humming a tune he didn’t recognize. “Maybe we can find a place and treat people with kindness.” He let it play over and over in his head, and it was like a lightbulb went off; he rushed off to her writing room and began to write down the words he felt would fly away. Although Y/N said, she takes no part in the song. Harry knows she does because it was with her small humming, and that verse, he wouldn’t have this song. Even if at one point he felt like he had thought he didn’t like it. 

Fine Line, the song named after the entire album, a six-minute song with a powerful instrumental in seeing the album out. She tried her best to keep her tears in, but once she heard Harry’s first, “we’ll be alright,” it was like the floodgates opened. She was silently crying but not in a sad way but a sense of comfort and understanding. She felt connected to Harry, knowing he must have had the roughest time feeling accepted and loved not only by others but himself, yet here he sits in front of her eyebrows burrowed concerned over her tears but a small smile breaking out once she sends him on his way. 

She didn’t know she could love him more than she already had, but here she is falling deeper and deeper. She knows she never wants to stop. 

“Pick a favorite?” Harry asks her after now on their third listen.

“Yes,” she responds as she hears the trumpets on ‘Watermelon Sugar’. 

“What’s the verdict?”

She turns, laying her chin on his chest, staring at him.

“Cherry and Golden are battling it out for number two, but my favorite has to be Fine Line. The “we’ll be alright” it’s like healing the soul. I don’t know how to describe it then the last few minutes of the instrumental.” She’s lost in a trance before looking down and kissing him just below his swallows. He brings his hand up to reach out and tuck a loose piece of hair.   

“Do you know the first time I saw you perform live?” 

Harry shakes his head, no. “Some time in 2018.” He guesses. 

“It was May 19th, I had just finished a song and called Tyler for a listen and said he was busy that night but was free now to meet him at the Troubadour. I thought it was strange but didn’t ask; went through the back. He took me to the second floor and told me to watch that I could show him after. There you had the biggest smile on your face rehearsing with Stevie Nicks. I swear I’ve never seen someone shine that bright. I looked at Tyler and told him that the world did not know what was coming their way.” Harry bowed his head, the compliment warming his heart to the point he felt it could burst. “Look at you now, the second album is completed, coming out in a few months. A raved about single, dedicated fans and a loving family.” She strokes his cheek. “You deserve every bit of it.” 

“I love you. I’m forever grateful for you.” A tear runs down his cheek emotions high as their song Adore You plays in the background. “You’ve changed our lives.”

“Just as you changed mine.” 

The door creaks open, both snapping their heads to see the young boy rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, hair sticking out in different directions.

“Daddy,” 

“Yeah, bub,” Harry responds softly. 

“I heard you talking and felt lonely. May I please sleep with you tonight?” Atticus is now at the side of the bed. 

Harry can feel how much Y/N is buzzing at cuddling Atticus. He’d never say no to a cuddle with his sweet boy. “Course boy, let’s get you up here.” 

Atticus grins, and Y/N scoots to the edge to lift him up even though he can manage alone, but she takes the opportunity to smother him in kisses as Atticus giggles, never once telling her to stop. She settles him in between the two of them. 

“I love you, Daddy.” Atticus kisses his father’s hand as he has his head resting on Harry’s stomach. “I love you, Y/N.” He gently picks up her hand, resting on Harry’s stomach, and brings to his lips for a kiss. 

“Good night, darling boy.” She whispers, kissing his head gently. 

Harry mouths an “I love you” that she happily returns. 

She lets out a deep breath, letting herself relax. Allowing herself to be content and happy and full of love. 

The future is uncertain with no real end in sight, but Harry, Atticus, and Y/N know that they can survive anything thrown their way together. 

The final lyrics of Adore You being heard as they drift to sleep.

Just let me adore you 

like it’s the only thing I’ll ever do

And Y/N knows for sure that loving Atticus and Harry is one thing in life she was meant to do. 

Thank you so much for reading Adore You, I love you! If you would like to see Harry and Atticus in the future please let me know.

@stellarboystyles​ happy three year anniversary to you. you’re wonderful and amazing. thank you for letting me take part in your challenge. I love you 

[ill-be-your-honey-bri]

Banana Pancakes

HELLO MY LOVES! WHEW! This one took me WAY longer than I had wanted it to, but you know, life comes at ya and you gotta go with the punches.

That being said, this fic is part of @stellarboystyles​ THREE YEAR ANNIVERSARY FIC CHALLENGE! Congrats darling (though I’m a month late)! I had picked the single parent trope and the line I chose to use for the challenge is bolded and italicized in my fic. 

Without further ado, I present my Nanny!Harry fic. Enjoy, leave a like, REBLOG FOR THE LOVE OF GOD! Send me some feed back, asks, love or hate, I don't care. TELL ME YOUR THOUGHTS!

I love you and treat people with kindness. 

Warnings: Lots of fluff, a sprinkle of smut, and a dash of angst (if you squint). 

Harry woke up to the smell of the crisp, cool fall air coming through his cracked bedroom window. The sky was still an inky fog as he stretched his arms over his head, skin pimpling as the air caressed him. He woke up before his alarm out of habit, knowing it would ring out shortly.

He roused out of his bed, extending his stretch through his legs and let out a satisfied groan when that one particular muscle in his lower back felt the pull it desired. He turned to his phone to turn his alarm off before going to the window to shut it, only after his dark tabby cat climbed back into his rightful home. Harry mumbled a ‘morning handsome’ to his fuzz ball, crouching down to give Elvis some morning loving.

Elvis followed Harry into the kitchen, knowing it was time for breakfast, mewing while figure-eighting between Harry’s feet.

“I know bub, I’m getting it.” Harry let out a yawn as he was filling the cat’s bowl. Elvis jumped on the counter, shoving his face in the bowl before Harry was even done filling it. “Eager this morning, are ya? Out there charming all the lady cats got you hungry? I hope you were a gentleman, I taught you better.”

Harry began making his coffee and filled his mug before returning to his room to get ready for the day. He decided on picking her favorite sweater; his blue ‘mon petite’ chickadee jumper. He laid it out on his bed as he pulled out his brown wide legged trousers and a striped button up to layer. He jumped in the shower to rinse off the morning haze and the ‘sleepies’, as his girl calls it.

His girl.

He smiled as he thought about her, what they had planned for the day. Maybe he will take her to the museum, stop by her favorite cafe, pick up a new book for them to read. He finished getting ready, pulling out his bike from the hallway closet to get it all set for his venture to his girl’s house. He grabbed his backpack, filled it with his girl’s favorite snacks, books, and their matching lavender water bottles, smiling as he threw his bag on his shoulders and carried his bike down the stairs of the apartment building.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry got to his girl’s home, putting in the code as he turned the key as to not awake her with the alarm. He put down his bag by the entry table, kicking off his scuffed up white Vans before softly padding up the stairs. He saw the door cracked open, slowly pushing it open further before walking to kneel by the bed.

He gently pushed her unruly hair off her beautiful face, seeing her lips in a pout and a furrow in her brow. She stirred slightly before her big doe eyes sleepily blinked open, causing Harry to smile down at her, which earned him a smile back.

“Good morning, my sweet girl.”

“Mornin’, did mama leave yet?”

“Not yet, Monkey. You know she can never go to work without giving you your kiss.”

Layla sat up fully, making grabby hands for Harry to pick her up and carry her downstairs. Harry could hear you in the shower getting ready for work as Layla cuddled into him on his way to your kitchen.

If you would have asked Harry two years ago if he thought he would be the nanny to your daughter, he would have laughed at the idea. He had been working at a daycare center when he first met you and his girl, Layla.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She was an infant when you had to return to work. Being a single mom, you needed to do what was best for you and your little bundle of joy. You had done extensive research on all the daycare facilities in your area, even venturing out a little further to get the best for your little angel. You had taken her to Small Wonders Daycare, nervous for your first day back as a pediatrician resident at the children’s hospital and your first day away from the love of your life.

You had walked into her assigned room provided by the administration when you completed the application and interview. The room was duckling yellow with moss green accents. Babies were laying on their bellies on the floor, being cooed at by a gentleman in a sheep sweater vest and tan trousers. He looked up to see you with Layla in her carrier, beaming and quickly hopped on his socked feet to meet you at the door. His co-teacher promptly laid with the little ones on the floor.

“You must be Mrs. Y/LN!”

“Um, no, just Dr. Y/LN or Y/N preferably.” You smiled at him as he was blushing from embarrassment.

“I - I am so sorry.”

“It’s alright. Not the first time it has happened.” You smiled at him before looking down at your little one who is looking around with wide eyes. Harry also looked at the carrier, quickly gaining his composure as he saw the little beauty.

“And you must be Layla!” Cooing at her, causing her to smile and blink slowly. He got on his knees as you placed the carrier on the floor so that he was able to unhook her and gently pick her up to his chest. He softly looked down at her as she returned the gaze, “Don’t tell the other girls this but, you have got to be the most beautiful little girl I have ever met.”

Layla quickly nuzzled into his chest, scratching gently at one of the sheep on his vest, giving you a sense of comfort and ease, knowing that your daughter is already in good hands. You had tried not to cry as you told Harry her schedule and routine, handing him her diaper bag.

“She prefers her milk at room temp, she gets fussy if it's too hot or too cold. There is enough breastmilk for the day and formula as well, if you need it. She has been eating me dry.” Harry gave a light chuckle, handing you your baby as he was putting the breastmilk in the refrigerator, Layla’s diapers and wipes in their designated spot by the changing table.

“I packed some extra clothes in her bag too, lots of bibs. She is not the most ladylike when it comes to eating, huh baby?” You gently rubbed her cheek as you looked down at her with maternal love.

Harry, always in awe of the way a mother could love her child and after being with you for a few moments, he knew that you could never love or cherish anything more than the little being cradled in your arms. The way your daughter looked up at you with awe, watching your every movement. That was a love that Harry always craved for.

Seeing Layla grow was one of Harry's fondest memories. He was there when she started to take her first attempt at steps, babbling and cooing her first ‘words’. When it was time that Layla was meant to graduate from his class room, it broke his heart. And it broke yours too.

Harry and Layla had created such a bond, you couldn’t bear for them to part. So you did the only thing you thought you could do when you walked into the classroom to see Harry laying on his back with your little one being held up in the air, giggling away with a few teeth that finally peeked through her gums.

“Hello my little one!” You had knelt down on the carpet next to Harry as he was handing you Layla, who was extremely happy to see you; kicking her legs and squealing happily. “Did you have a good day?”

“She was a little monkey today!” Harry was packing up Layla’s diaper bag as he was telling you about her day. “She was trying to climb out of her crib, climbing all over my lap during lunch and my back during tummy-time.”

“Oh no! We just got crawling down like a boss and now you get the gall to start climbing! You’ll be walking before you know it and then we will be in real trouble, wont we missy?” You started to kiss her chubby cheeks, making giggles bubble from her tummy.

“I’ll certainly miss her.” Harry gave you a shy smile as he carried her diaper bag and a gift from him for Layla to you. He handed you her bag as you stood up before handing you the gift bag.

“What’s this?” You gave him a curious look as you took the bag in hand as you settled Layla on your hip.

Harry scratched the back of his neck and wiggled his socked toes. “It’s just a little something.”

Layla reached her arms out to Harry, as if she knew this would be the last day that they would be able to cuddle. You handed her over easily, tapping her bum before opening the gift bag. Inside was her favorite book to ‘read’ with Harry, (you're pretty sure it's because of the way Harry reads it to her because she crawls away every time you try to read it). There was a crochet sweater that Harry told you his mom made, and a framed photo of Harry and Layla where Layla is squeezing Harry's cheeks to pull him in for a sloppy kiss.

You held your chest as you looked at the photo and tears began to well. “Harry, this is… this is so sweet, thank you. She loves you so much.”

He smiled down at her, scrunching his face, which Layla had mocked, “I guess I love her too. You have a very special girl on your hands.” He kissed her little nose before she cuddled onto his shoulder.

“I don’t want her to have a new teacher.” You wiped your eyes as you put Layla’s gifts back in the bag. “Would you want to be her nanny, Harry?”

Harry froze at the offer, a little taken back by being offered what he would consider to be a dream job; help you care for your perfect child. Granted, Harry had thought of this before but more of a fatherly figure than a nanny, but he would take what he could get to be close to both of his girls.

“What do you say Monkey? Want me to be your nanny?”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry made his way down the stairs with Layla wrapped around his waist, her head on his shoulder. Her little fingers were twisting in the curls on the nape of Harry’s neck as he was humming and rubbing circles on her back. Layla unraveled herself as Harry approached the table to set her down so that he could start the coffee maker and begin making Lalya’s favorite breakfast.

Layla watched on with sleepy eyes, occasionally giving them a rub, as Harry pulled out a mixing bowl, flour, eggs, vanilla, bananas, and Layla’s favorite part, chocolate chips. She had quietly stood up from her perch and made her way to the ingredients as Harry was setting up the coffee pot. Harry had turned just in time to see Layla pop a small handful of chocolate chips into her mouth. She froze her movements.

“Monkey… what did I say about eating the chocolate chips before they are in your pancakes?”

Layla slowly reached for a few more, putting her hand out to Harry, “We share?”

Harry couldn’t help but to let a chortle out as he bent down, meeting his girl as her little fingers gripped on the chips that she moved to pop them in Harry’s mouth. “Thank you monkey! Would you like to help me mix?”

Layla quickly nodded as Harry picked her up to place her on the counter, making sure she was far enough from the edge before he handed her the whisk and placed the mixing bowl in front of her. Harry measured out the ingredients before putting them in the bowl for his girl to start mixing. Harry had pretended that he didn’t notice her add more handfuls of chocolate chips into the mix.

Harry heard your heels on the hardwood upstairs and Layla quickly turned when she realized you were coming down the stairs. You took Harry’s breath away, as you always did when you walked into the room. He could never take his eyes off of you when you were in his line in vision. He took in how perfect the blush pink, knee length, a-line dress perfectly hugged your curves. The way the nude heels made your legs look miles long. How perfect your hair frames your face and the beaming smile as you saw your baby girl.

“Good morning, baby!” You walked to the island of your kitchen to give your daughter a kiss, noticing the taste of chocolate when you pulled your lips from hers. You hum and squint your eyes, causing Layla to let out a giggle as she covered her mouth. “That’s funny, I’m pretty sure Harry hasn’t made you any pancakes yet, so why are your kisses so yummy?”

Layla shrugged as if she had no idea what you were talking about, causing you to look at Harry who gave you the same exact shrug your daughter had just given you. You shake your head, resting your hand on Harry’s lower back as you pass to make your coffee.

Harry focused on the touch, wishing that your hand was pressed a little firmer and a little longer. He wished that after you kissed your perfect carbon copy, you would kiss him too and catch him red handed after sneaking a few chocolate chips. He had wished that he wouldn’t have to go home at the end of the day to his lonely apartment. He shook himself from his thoughts as he heard you thank him for making coffee.

“Oh, it’s no problem. I made enough for you to take some with you too.”

“God, you’re a saint!” You squeezed his shoulder as you walked to the stool that held your purse and work tote. “Starting as a full time doctor at the children’s hospital has been so draining. I’m pretty sure I have been drinking a whole pot by myself.”

“I know that they just hired you full time but you should take some time for yourself.”

Layla watched on as you and Harry talked about work, slowly stopping her mixing and reached her hand for the chocolate chip bag. Harry slapped his hand on the bag, moving it away without even looking in Layla’s direction as he continued to talk about you and your self care. You let out a chuckle at Layla’s shocked pout as you take your last sip of your coffee.

“Alright my love, I need to get going. Be good for Harry.” Layla reached up to wrap her arms around your neck and gave you another peck to your lips.

“I will mama, I love you!”

“I love you too, baby. Have a good day Harry, call me if you need anything.”

With that, you walked out the door and got in your car to go to work as Harry got back to making breakfast for his girl.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After eating breakfast and doing a team clean up, Harry took Layla to her room to pick out an outfit for the day. Layla stood there, wide eyed, watching Harry as he moved around her room, knowing exactly where everything was.

“I was thinking we could go to the park today, what do you think monkey? And after the park, we would go to the museum.”

Layla perked up, excited to go to two of her favorite places, hoping Harry would list her most favorite place when they have a day planned like this.

“And the cafe?” She looked up at him with hopeful eyes, now standing by his side while he was pulling socks out of her dresser.

“I don’t know monkey… do you think we should?” Harry was trying to hold back his smile, knowing how devastated she would be if he were to ever tell her no to her favorite cafe.

“Please, Harry? It’s my favorite.” Of course, she had to use those gorgeous eyes that she clearly got from her mother. Harry realized that he is so weak for these girls.

“Alright, I guess we must then.” Harry closed the drawer with his hip and Layla jumped and clapped before sprinting to her ensuite.

Layla quickly stripped out of her clothes and turned the knobs to the bath herself before using all her little strength to put the plug in the tub. Harry was smart enough one day, when Layla was feeling extra autonomous, to put stickers on where the perfect bath temperature would be, so that Layla would never burn herself or cry when it’s too cold.

Harry laid out her outfit for the day on the sink counter, grabbing a cup and kneeling before the tub to help wash her hair. He heard “I can do it” more times than he can count until it became time to rinse her hair, where she would wordlessly tip her head back and cover her eyes with her little hands.

They would mindlessly chat about what they were excited to see at the museum, what they would play at the park, until Layla randomly asked, “Do you have a daddy?”

Harry froze. He knew he obviously was going to answer but he was afraid of where the conversation would lead to. “I do.” He let the silence settle, not wanting to push Layla to talk due to his anxiety.

“Mama says I have a daddy out there somewhere but she loved me too much to share me.” Layla rubbed the water away from her face before looking at Harry with a gentle smile that began to turn to a soft pout.

“What’s the matter, monkey? You can talk to me.” Harry put the cup off to the side on the tub ledge before leaning in to listen to his sweet girl. Her little fingers began to trace the ink on his left arm since his arms were exposed after Harry pushed up his sleeves for bath time.

“I’m sad I don’t know anything about my daddy. Did he not love me?” Harry could see the tears form in Layla’s eyes and he could physically feel them form in his along with the lump in his throat.

“Oh, baby. I don’t know anything about your daddy but I do know that he is a very lucky man to have had you and mama.”

“Why is he gone?” Layla’s tears were freely falling and her little lip was trembling.

Harry grabbed Layla’s towel, picking her up and wrapping the towel around her so he could hold her to his chest as she nuzzled in his neck, exactly how she did when they first met.

“My sweet girl.” He was rubbing her back and rocking her back and forth. Harry was curious as to what had brought this on but he didn’t want to press it. He did know that he was going to properly spoil his girl rotten today to make all her worries and heartache disappear.

Layla sniffled and wiped her runny nose on the towel before pushing away from Harry, resting her hands on his chest to look him in the face. She quickly wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a good squeeze, making a smile spread to Harry’s cheeks, holding his girl closer.

“Will you Elsa braid my hair like mama does?”

“Of course, sweetheart. Probably won’t look as good as mama’s but I will try.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry must say, he’s pretty proud of his braid as he is putting Layla’s glittery sky blue helmet on her.

Harry had dressed her in an outfit he would probably wear. You always had a good sense of fashion and Layla was picking up on it as well, now that you have been giving her some more independence in choices.

Layla was dressed in dark purple corduroy flares with a cream sweater, speckled with pastel pinks, purples, and blues. Harry made sure that she wore comfortable but warm shoes, opting for some brown leather Chelsea boots. Harry grabbed her mustard yellow peacoat and threw a pair of gloves in his backpack, just in case, along with more socks, another sweater, extra hair ties and clips (Harry would occasionally steal her butterfly clips for his own hair). He made sure that their water bottles were filled and there were snacks and sanitary wipes in the front pocket of his backpack before throwing it on his shoulders.

Harry and Layla walked out the front door, her helping lock up the house, before walking to Harry’s bike. He picked up Layla to set her in the kid carrier attached to the back of Harry’s bike. You had been extremely nervous when Harry had first told you about the seat and wanting to take Layla for a ride. You offered to help him get a car, even if it was for your own sanity, but Layla loved riding on Harry’s bike way too much to ever say no.

Layla was patient and cooperative with Harry hooking her in, making sure she was safe and secure. Harry checked the straps and buckles three times before he gave Layla an approving nod while she returned his gesture, adding a giggle. Harry swung his leg over the seat, kicked up the kickstand and planted his feet on the pedals, making their way to the park. Layla enjoyed the scenery whizzing by while humming some song that Harry couldn’t make out, otherwise he would have joined her.

They made their way to the park, enjoying the rest of the morning hours there before they ventured to the cafe on the lake that was close to the park. Harry kept his bike locked up, opting to hold Layla’s hand as they walked to the cafe.

Harry had asked Layla why she likes this cafe so much many times and her answers had changed over the years. She used to tell Harry that it was because of “duckies”, then it turned to liking their hot cocoa. Today when he asked, his heart was warmed by her words and how wise she had become by the ripe age of three.

“Mama brings me here when we go to the park and you always bring me here. It’s our family spot.”

The waitress came over, beaming at Harry and Layla sitting across from each other, coloring on the placemat together.

“Oh my goodness, your daughter is so cute!”

Layla looked up at the waitress with a scowl before looking at Harry, causing him to laugh.

“I’m her nanny.”

The waitress looked taken back but quickly changed her features, looking Harry up and down and biting her lip. Layla continues to scowl at the waitress as Harry told her that they were ready to order.

Layla, being the smart girl she is, noticed how the waitress demeanor changed. How she was now only focused on Harry, began to twirl her hair and the constant lip biting. Harry had ordered his food and looked to Layla, who cleared her throat to get the waitress’s attention.

“My mama is prettier and she’s a doctor.”

Harry choked on his water at Layla’s childlike bluntness, causing a laugh to escape from his lips that he was trying to hold back. The waitress now was the one to wear the scowl as Layla’s own demeanor became confident with a hint of sass.

The waitress finally looked to Layla, “That’s not a very nice thing to say to a stranger.”

“It’s not nice to ignore me. I want hot cocoa with extra whipped cream and grilled cheese. Thank you.” Layla went back to coloring on the placemat, dismissing the waitress.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

They had finished their lunch, the waitress returning minimally since she got scolded by the child. Layla had cleaned up her area, stacking all of her dirty dishes and utensils onto Harry’s plate before hopping down from her chair and reaching for Harry’s hand. They got back to Harry’s bike, having Layla grip onto Harry’s trouser leg as he was unlocking the bike to set it up properly to get Layla back in her seat.

On their way to the museum, she was playing with the keychain they had made together that was attached to the zipper of Harry’s backpack. They were chatting about what parts of the museum they were going to be looking forward to.

Harry had tried to make their time together as educational as possible. Her little brain was ever growing, becoming curious, and he tried to feed its thirst for knowledge. The museum was having an exhibit on extinct animals so he had made sure they made it in time for them to join.

Layla was a wonderful listener. Harry had to carry her, per her request, so that she could be close to the presenter as they walked around the exhibit so she wouldn't miss a word he was saying. Her eyes were glued to the speaker when he spoke, focused on the extinct animal figure on display when he would direct their focus. Layla had her fingers wrapped in Harry’s curls, twisting them gently in her little fingers as she sponged up the information. She would occasionally rest her head on his shoulder, nuzzle close, and Harry would rest his head on hers.

“Getting tired, sweetheart?”

Layla lazily shook her head no as her grip tightened on to Harry. Harry knew she would be fast asleep the moment he got her into the bike seat.

Layla slept all the way home, Harry careful to pull her out to not disturb her, holding her close as he got them inside. He carried her to her room, slowly peeling off her coat and boots before covering her in a crochet blanket; another gift made by his own mother for his girl. Layla curled onto her side, subconsciously grabbing for her stuffed monkey Harry got for her for her third birthday, and soft snores began to fall from her lips.

Harry kissed her cheek before turning on her white noise maker and leaving her door cracked. Harry made his way down stairs and plopped on the couch, falling asleep himself.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry woke up covered in a soft sherpa blanket with the smell of garlic and tomato filling his nostrils. He let out a stretch before sitting up, seeing you standing at the stove and Layla at the table painting.

You were still in your blush dress from the morning but were barefoot and hair up in a messy bun with pieces framing your face. You were sipping from your red wine glass while pushing chicken and veggies in a skillet.

Layla perked up when she saw Harry staring at you. She had noticed this look he gave you before, the ever observant girl, but she didn’t know how to verbalize what the look could mean. She let Harry watch you a little longer until you had noticed he was awake when you turned around.

“Morning sunshine! Did this one wear you out today?” You were smiling at him as you continued to chop vegetables to put them in a salad, popping a chunk of cucumber in your mouth and handing Layla a chunk for herself, popping her piece in her mouth almost identical to you. Except, Harry was focused on the way your lips curled into a soft smile while you eloquently chewed and swallowed the piece of green veg before licking your lips, causing Harry to realize how dry his mouth was and how sweaty his palms were.

“No, not at all. We had a great day, guess I just needed the rest.”

You nodded as you pulled three plates down from the cupboard to place on the table. You mumbled a “time to clean up” into Layla’s hair, that is now loose from its Elsa braid, as you kissed the top of her head. Layla gently put her paints away, Harry helping with the water cup and laying the painting on the counter to dry. Harry walked Layla to the bathroom so they could both wash their hands for dinner.

You had made up the plates and placed them on the table before Harry and Layla had walked out. Getting Layla a cup for water and another red wine glass, you poured Harry a glass and topped yours off, setting them on the table as the two walked out.

This had become a strange tradition for the three of you after you had noticed that Harry had lost weight and was concerned that he wasn’t eating properly at home by himself. He swore it wasn’t an issue but you had gone full mama bear mode on Harry and started to put a plate in front of him before he had an opportunity to tell you “no thank you”. You sat at the table with Layla and Harry, discussing their day.

“Mama, the lady at the cafe ignored me to stare at Harry. It wasn’t nice!”

You let out a giggle, thinking to yourself that you can’t blame the poor waitress for being enchanted by the magnetic being across from you. “You’re right baby, that’s not nice but hopefully Harry got a phone number out of it.”

You smiled across at Harry and he began to blush, opening his mouth to speak but Layla beat him to it.

“Why would Harry need her phone number? He can call you!”

As calm and collected as you were, Harry went into a slight panic; was he really that obvious when it came to his feelings for you?

“Again, you’re right baby. Harry can call me any time he wants.”

Harry’s eyes went wide and Layla’s scowl turned into a bright smile, going back to eating her dinner while Harry sat there frozen.

“I can call you?”

“Of course Harry, any time. Even if it’s just to check in on Layla.”

Harry deflated a little when you were clear about your intentions for a phone call just as a friendly gesture. Harry went back to eating, trying to disguise his disappointment.

Harry had helped you clean up while Layla went to get her pajamas on. There was an awkward silence looming over the two of you that you could both sense but you weren’t sure who would cut through it first, so you decided to bare the knife.

“Can I ask you a huge favor? You have every right to say no if you are busy or you just don’t want to.”

“Of course, can ask me anything.”

“Would you be able to watch Layla Friday night?”

“Yeah, no problem. Did you get called in to cover at the hospital?”

“Um, no, actually. I have a date.”

The knife you used to cut through the heavy air around you just went right into Harry’s heart. He couldn’t tell if you could notice but he could feel his blood run cold and his face go pale.

“No problem. I’ll just stay all day Friday. I should get going now though.”

“You don’t want to stay for the Great British Bake off? You always stay to watch after dinner.” You gave him a pout as you wiped your hands with a rag to dry them. Those eyes always work on him, no matter if they are from Layla or you, but his heart couldn’t bear to look at them tonight.

“I have stuff at home to catch up on and since I’ll be busy on Friday now, I should get it done.”

“Harry, you don’t have to watch Layla on Friday if you’re already busy. I can find a babysitter.”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that, Harry quickly walked to the door, stopping when he saw Layla come down the stairs, trying to hold back his tears that he can feel burning.

“Good night my sweet girl, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Layla reached her arms up to hug Harry, holding her extra tight and giving her a long kiss to her cheek before gently setting her feet on the floor and heading home.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You were getting ready for your date as Harry was making dinner for him and Layla. You had offered to cook something up but Harry told you that you should get ready so you wouldn’t be late.

You walked down in the tightest dress Harry had ever seen you in, making his body ache from desire and heartbreak. How desperately he wanted to pick you up for a date with you walking out in that curve hugging maroon dress and black stiletto heel, putting your earring in and fluffing your hair to where you want it to lay.

“So pretty mama!”

“Thank you baby!” You gave the top of her head a kiss before going to pick up your phone from the charger to place in your clutch. You heard the horn of a car outside as you were grabbing your black trench coat.

“Okay baby, be good. You might be sleeping when I get back but I’ll come tuck you in. Harry, call me if you need anything.” You kissed Layla again and made your way to the door, locking it behind you.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Your date has been going extremely well. David was a handsome surgeon you had met during your ER coverage when someone came in with intensive internal bleeding, leading to an emergency surgery where David was on call. Laughs were being had, drinks were flowing easy, then your phone rang.

You saw that it was Harry so you quickly answered, “Harry, is everything alright?” You could hear Layla crying in the background, making your heart race.

“Layla has a fever and I can’t get her to calm down.”

You took a deep breath, “What’s her temperature? Did you give her some children’s Tylenol?”

“She is at 100 right now, gave her the Tylenol and put a cool cloth on her head. She’s just so inconsolable right now. She wants her mama, Y/N.”

“Can I talk to her?” Harry put the phone on speaker as he continued to rock Layla, adjusting the cloth on her forehead.

You whimpered when you heard her choked sobs, gently asking, “Baby, wants the matter?”

Layla’s cries had died down a minuscule amount but you could make out what she was saying, “I want my mama!” Your heart was breaking and you looked to David, who at this point finished his wine and looked extremely annoyed.

“It’s okay baby, I’ll be home soon, okay? I’ll be right there.” Layla settled a little more and Harry ended the call with a “see you soon”.

David paid for the bill as you began to apologize and get your stuff together. David began to walk ahead of you before saying his cold goodbye at the door. “I don’t have time to drive you home, could you catch an Uber or something?”

You scoffed at him before rolling your eyes, “Yeah, that’s fine. Thanks for dinner but don’t expect a call from me.” You pulled out your phone as David walked away so that you could request an Uber.

You had rushed into your house, which was now eerily quiet for having a sick baby girl on your hands. You walked into the house further and found Harry laying on the couch topless with Layla laying on his chest, also topless and a wet towel between them. Harry had his fingers combing through Layla’s hair as they were watching Coco.

Layla lifted her head when she heard your heels on the hardwood, looking at you and tears began to brim her eyes.

“Hi my baby, you’re not feeling good, hm?” You knelt down by the couch as you stripped off your coat and Layla was reaching for you to hold her. You held her close, feeling the warmth radiating off of her but it wasn’t a concerning temperature at this point.

Harry sat up, folding the wet towel before taking it to the bathroom, walking away and coming back still topless. Your eyes explored his torso, his high waisted trousers cover up until under his butterfly. You continued to hold and rock your little one, who was now nuzzling into your neck with her breathing slowing. Your eyes finally finished their exploring of Harry’s dips and valleys when you met his eyes, mouthing a “thank you” for taking care of your daughter.

You stood up and kicked off your heels before climbing the stairs to tuck Layla in. You placed her in your bed so that you could watch her overnight. You walked back down the stairs after leaving your door cracked and promptly went to the cupboard to pull out two wine glasses and a bottle of Syrah, popping out the cork and pouring two hefty glasses before walking to the couch where Harry now sat with his shirt on. To say you were disappointed was an understatement.

Harry took the glass and looked at how full it was before giving you a look with a cocked brow and smirk. “Not good, huh?”

You ran your hand through your hair and let out a sigh. “It was fine until you called.” Harry instantly felt guilty for calling you on your date until you spoke up again.

“I didn’t tell him I had Layla, he had told me before the date that he never wanted children. I guess that should have been a major red flag. I’ve just been so alone and desperate that I took the first thing that jumped on me.” You took a huge swig of your wine before letting out a sigh. “I probably should have asked you if you needed a ride home before I started guzzling down my feelings.”

Harry smiled at you, “It’s fine. I can get an Uber.”

You almost spilt your wine when you sat up with a mouthful, quickly swallowing it. “Mm! He didn’t even drive me home! He made me get a fucking Uber!”

“What an asshole!”

“I know! Ugh, I should just give up while I’m ahead. I’ve got the most perfect daughter, I have a great job, although exhausting. I own a house and have a happy and healthy life… I guess I just get-“

“Lonely?” Harry thought that you were preaching to the choir at this point because he felt the same exact way; he had your daughter to care for, an amazing job, he is happy and healthy because you care for him.

You let out another sigh and closed your eyes, “Yes, so lonely. I have been doing this all on my own and it can be too much. I just want someone to hold me, tell me it will be okay, that I am doing a good job.”

“You’re doing an amazing job,Y/N.”

You slowly open your eyes and look to Harry who has been watching you this whole time. You let out another sigh because you can feel him pull you in but you don’t want anything to happen, not right now anyway, not like this.

As if your daughter wasn’t already your saving grace, she cried out for you right when you felt the pull to Harry become too strong. You put your wine glass down and go to your baby.

“You’re more than welcome to stay in the guest room if you don’t feel like making your way home this late. I’m going to go to bed. Goodnight Harry.”

And with that, you walked up the stairs to be with your baby and Harry called an Uber home.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry had walked in, eager to start the day with Layla, thinking about maybe baking something and going to the art museum. When he walked into the kitchen, he wasn’t expecting to see you in a long t-shirt, bed head and bare legs with Layla on the counter eating sliced strawberries.

“Oh shit, Harry!”

“Mama! No swear!”

“Oop, sorry baby. Harry, I must have forgot to tell you that I had today off.”

“Oh, it’s no problem, I can head home so you can spend the day with Layla.”

“Or you can stay…” you were looking at him with hopeful eyes that he would agree to spend the day with you and Layla. “We would love for you to stay.”

“Yeah Harry! Please?”

The way that both of you are now giving him the eyes, he’s lucky he didn’t turn into a puddle on the floor. Harry began to peel his jacket and boots off, exposing his layered red sweater over a cream button up to match his brown and cream plaid pants, walking over to the island for Layla to pop a strawberry in his mouth. You smiled up at him as he began to help you prep the breakfast to build your own waffles.

Harry helped Layla get ready for the day, getting her in some black fleece leggings, a chambray shirt with some brown leather combat boots. Layla said she wanted mama to do her hair and that Harry shouldn’t take it personally.

Layla sprinted into your ensuite where you were finishing your simple makeup and loose curls, wearing high waisted dark skinny jeans and a cream off the shoulder sweater. You were still barefoot at this point and Harry thought that he could get used to this.

You made sure you unplugged your curling wand and moved it away from the sink so that you could sit Layla on it to do her hair. She already had white bows in her hand for you to put in her hair. You quickly did a crown braid to keep her hair out of her face and finished it off with a top knot, throwing a bow at the base of the bun. You dashed on your perfume, doing the same to Layla per her request and then threw some chapstick on the both of you before picking up Layla to place on your hip.

You looked up to Harry and asked him if he was ready to go. He swallowed that dry mouth away before giving you a nod.

You got Layla settled in her car seat, tucking your purse under her feet and gave her a kiss before you climbed into the driver's seat. Harry got comfortable in the passenger seat, looking in the mirror in the visor to look back at Layla who was ‘reading’ a book.

You looked over to Harry who was smiling in the mirror, causing you to smile before asking if everyone was ready. You stopped by a coffee shop drive through where you got Layla her hot cocoa, yourself a flat white, and Harry a black coffee. The drive to the art museum was a little ways so you let Layla pick the music for the car. You hummed along to the Disney songs until Layla was begging for you and Harry to sing, causing you both to giggle but sing along.

Harry took over when it came to the art museum, educating Layla on artists and types of paints and materials used. You followed behind letting them having their time together, warming to see Harry adore your daughter and her being excited to learn. You took a few pictures of the two of them and were reviewing them when Layla was hyper fixated on Monet’s “Sunflowers” painting. You froze at a picture of Harry knelt down with Layla between his legs and his hand on her tummy. She was pointing to a painting on the wall while Harry was looking at the camera with a beaming smile, the next one was the same pose with a softer smile and he was looking behind the camera, looking at you.

You looked up to see Layla running to you with arms open and Harry jogged close behind. Layla was talking a mile a minute about the sunflower painting as you knelt down to pick her up. You kept looking at Harry who was giggling at Layla’s gabbing and excitement while you could not focus on anything other than the way Harry’s dimples were popping and his eyes were crinkling. You shook yourself from the trance as you helped Layla get her jacket from the museum coat closet.

You decided to go out of the way to go to the cafe by the park. This would be the first time all three of you went together and you knew Layla would be excited when she saw the car pull into the parking lot.

You were right; she squealed and tried to get herself out of her car seat but Harry had beat her to it. She was in awe of the trees surrounding the lake and the cafe, all in their full bloom of fall colors. The leaves were scattered beautifully along the parking lot, leaves floating in the lake. The cafe was decorated in fall decor, preparing for the holiday season.

You requested a table by the widows facing the lake and sat Layla closest to the window so she could enjoy the view. She murmured how it looked like a painting at the museum and what paints were used in the art she was thinking of. You smiled at her before looking at Harry who was already looking at you.

Layla started to list all the colors she sees outside as the waitress approached, the same one that had eyes for Harry.

“Well, hello again.” She again was focused only on Harry, ignoring your’s and Layla’s presence. Harry had to laugh because the face you were making at that moment was identical to the one Layla had made the first time.

“I’ll let the ladies order first.” Harry nodded at you before you looked up at the waitress, giving her a sickly sweet smile. Her eyes widened when she looked at you, truly shocked by your beauty.

“Layla baby, you first.” Layla never looked away from outside, stating that she would like “hot cocoa with extra whip cream and a grilled cheese, please.” You had asked if she could get a side of veg along with her meal as you ordered a turkey club with a side salad and a cup of soup to share with Layla.

Harry had ordered his turkey burger with side salad before the waitress parted to bring a fresh pitcher of water. Layla had finally turned her attention back to you and Harry, going over her favorite parts of the museum throughout the meal. You're pretty sure she had listed everything she saw.

You made your way home, Layla falling asleep in the car. Harry had carried her up to her bed as you gathered all the dirty laundry to start a load. You sat at the table with your laptop, paying bills when Harry made his way down to you at the kitchen table. Harry let out a yawn and you pointed to the coffee maker.

“Fresh pot.” You smiled and lifted your mug to ‘cheers’ him. Harry sat across from you while you finished up on your computer and you suggested that you watch a movie or some garbage tv.

You got about halfway through the movie before you heard little feet pattering on the hardwood upstairs. Before you know it, Layla has crawled into your lap, laying her head on your shoulder while she looks at Harry with a sleeping smile.

“Good morning beautiful, sleep well?” She nodded at Harry as she nuzzled closer to you. You rubbed her back and patted her bum as you thought about what to do for dinner.

“I was thinking since we have already been bad all day, we should order some pizza.” Layla perked up at that before squeezing you tighter. You giggled as you pulled out your phone, hitting the speed dial to your favorite place.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

With full bellies and a sleepy Layla, you get the two of you ready for bed as Harry puts away the leftovers and throws the boxes away.

You walk down with a clean face, hair up, and a pair of green cotton plaid pajama pants and a white oversized T-shirt. Harry walked back in from the recycling outside to you holding a pint of ice cream and two spoons. You raised your eyebrows and giggled as Harry walked over to you. You popped open the pint and handed a spoon to Harry.

“Layla would be heartbroken if she saw you sharing with me and not her.” He smiled before popping the spoon in his mouth, letting the cream melt over his tongue.

You shrug, licking your spoon, “I don’t share my ice cream with just any one Harry.” You take another spoonful and look at Harry as you take your bite.

Harry could feel his heart racing, his mouth drying, his hands are sweaty. He can feel the word vomit in the back of his throat make its way to the tip of his tongue. “Can I be honest with you?”

“Of course Harry, I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

You stood up straight when you saw that Harry had adjusted his own posture. He was avoiding your gaze now, looking to the spoon in his hand he was twirling while he tried to find his voice. You didn’t pressure him, you both just stood in silence.

“I’m very lucky to have had you walk into my classroom. I instantly fell in love with your daughter and I instantly fell in love with you too.” He was still avoiding your gaze but if he were to look up, he would see that your eyes have glossed and your lip is trembling, the way Layla’s does when she is trying to hold back her tears.

“I’ve known for an embarrassingly long time how I have truly felt about you but what we have is so good and I couldn’t bear to not have Layla in my life, couldn’t bear to lose you. I- Today was amazing and made me realize that it would kill me if I don’t tell you that I am completely and utterly, madly in love with you.”

Harry decided that it’s now or never to look at you, and you looked so beautiful in this moment as you do every time Harry looks at you. You may be in oversized and stained pajamas, your cheeks may be wet and flush and your lips bruised and trembling, but you are as beautiful as you are every day that Harry is graced with your presence.

You now try to find your words but you choke out a sob. Harry quickly wraps you into his arms and kisses the top of your head, holding you close. You finally catch your breath and look up to him.

“I always knew there was something there but I was too scared to find out.”

Harry wiped your cheeks with his thumbs, holding your face in his palms. “Can I kiss you, Y/N?”

You gave him the nod he was wishing for and he slowly leaned in as he pulled you closer. He was gentle in his movements, not wanting to scare you away from this moment. He planted his lips softly against yours, slowly moving so that he could incase your lower lip between his, softly sucking it between his lips. He moved closer so that your bodies were pressed together and he lowered his right hand from your cheek to your waist and his left hand to the back of your head, his fingers weaving into the hair pulled up into the bun on top of your head. He gently let his tongue graze your bottom lip before he pulled you closer and licked again with more fervor.

Your mouth opened more to let him in, just as you were opening yourself more to let him into your heart. Your hands reached out to grip at the sweater on his chest as you finally let go and let your tongue meet his. This move gives Harry the confidence and reassurance he needs as he fully licks into you to massage your tongue with his as he presses his hips to yours, pushing your lower back to the counter.

He pulls away breathless as he lays his forehead on yours, kissing your nose and rubbing the back of your head with his thumb. He goes back in to kiss you more,  lifting you by your thighs to wrap around him. He carefully carries you to your room, gently laying you down on the bed as he starts to kiss down your neck, his hands massaging your thighs that are still wrapped around him. Harry pulls his sweater over his head and before you get the chance to admire him, his lips are pressed to yours. His fingers graze the waistband of your bottoms and he starts to pull them down, his soft and warm palms caressing the bare flesh of your thighs.

Harry continues to kiss the skin of your neck as you swallow down the lump that is forming in the base of your throat as you think about the next morning. “Harry, what if this changes everything?”

“Everything’s still the same, nothing changes. Except now, I get to hold you, and kiss you, and show you much I love you.”

You let out a sigh of relief as the tears begin to form that you try to blink away. Harry’s face is again level with yours, kissing your cheek. “Will you let me show you how much I love you?”

Your lip trembles as you tell him yes, never feeling loved before this moment. Harry gently kissed you and he reached for the hem of your shirt. He pulled it over your head, exposing your sports bra and he leaned on his hunches to finish pulling your bottoms off. Harry took his time, kissing every inch of you. Your stretch marks from carrying Layla, your stubbly thighs because you didn’t have time to shave your legs fully this morning, your freckles and scars. Harry truly loved every inch of you, and you could feel it.

“Can I take these off, love?” Harry’s fingers were tucked into your cotton panties when you gave him a nod. You were nervous because it had been longer than you would like to admit since you have been intimate with someone. Harry slowly peeled them down your legs, kissing a trail behind.

“Harry… it’s been a long time…”

“It’s okay, I’ll take my time with you.” He kissed your ankle as he dropped your panties to the side of the bed. “Can I start by touching you?” You nod again and you lean up to pull off your sports bra and adjust the pillow behind your head. Harry still sat on his knees between your legs to admire you. “Do you have any lube? I don’t want to hurt you or make it uncomfortable for you.”

You give him a shy smile before leaning to your side table, appreciating him for being so kind and gentle. You hand him the bottle and he pops the cap open, spreading some along his fingers as well as dripping some on your center. He placed the bottle by his leg, just in case he doesn’t have enough.

“Talk to me, okay? Let me know if it’s too much or not enough. Tell me what you need.”

“I will.” He smiled before leaning down to kiss you, hovering over you as he started to run his pointer and middle finger through your folds. You gasp at the coldness but quickly relax when you feel Harry’s fingers explore you more; spreading you open, pinching a lip or your clit between his fingers. He gave you one last lick into your mouth before leaning back again.

You opened your thighs more to accommodate him as he watched his own fingers explore you. You watched his brow furrow and he occasionally licked his lip. Your breath hitched when you felt his middle finger slowly dip in you.

“This okay?”

“Yes.” Your hips flex up involuntarily to meet Harry’s finger that he is slowly dipping and pulling out of you. His thumb slowly started rolling over your clit and you let out your first moan. It was soft, but present enough for Harry to speed up his movements a little bit, earning a louder moan from you.

“You like that baby?” Harry slowly pulled out his middle finger so that he could slide his middle and ring finger in together, giving you the stretch to need. When he got to the base of his fingers, your back arched and Harry began his come hither motion on your walls, reaching further to hit the soft sponge that you needed him to find.

“Harry, right there!” He added a little more pressure to your gspot before returning to his massaging gesture, using his other hand to figure eight your clit with his thumb. You could feel yourself on the brink of the tip over but you needed something, you just weren’t sure what it was but Harry seemed to know.

He leaned down to kiss you fully again, the pressure of his body on you caused his thumb to add more pressure to your bud and his fingers to plunge a little deeper, causing the rush to flow over you and the tingles to start in your fingers and toes. You moaned into his mouth as he continued to kiss you to keep you quiet but you pulled away to catch a breath, panting into his shoulder as he kissed your neck.

Harry began to slow his movements, pulling his hands away to massage at your thighs as he continued to kiss your neck down to your chest. You could feel him straining in his trousers on your core as he laid on you.

“Was that okay?” He continued to kiss your chest, licking your left nipple into his mouth, sucking gently and flicking the tip of his tongue across it. You rolled your hips into him, feeling the vibrations from his moan into the flesh of your breast.

“It was great, thank you.” Your hand was combing through his hair as he moved to your right breast.

“Can I make love to you?” He looked up at you, watching your soft, blissed out face turn into a gentle smile.

“I would love to make love with you, Harry.” He leaned up again to kiss you before standing to pull off his trousers. He reached for the nightstand to grab a condom, putting it on and adding some extra lube before setting the bottle aside.

“Let me know if you need me to stop or anything.” He kissed your forehead, your closed eyes, each cheek, then your nose before landing on your lips. He lined himself up to your core, all while kissing you, before gently pushing into you with a role of his hips.

With each roll and deeper kiss, he sunk deeper into you. You pulled away from the kiss trying to catch a breath, feeling dizzy from being overwhelmed emotionally and physically. Harry continued to slowly thrust into you, barely pulling out before he would roll again. He lifted a knee to lay flush with your thigh, opening you more which caused Harry to pull out more than he intended to push back into you.

You let out a moan and your head tipped back after that particular thrust, causing Harry to remove his face from your neck to look at you and repeat the same motion, over and over again. He could feel how wet you were getting, almost too wet that he was slipping out of you more, causing his thrust to be sloppy and deeper.

He lifted the thigh he had pushed up with his knee up to his shoulder, hovering over you more and looking right down at you. You look up to see Harry’s curls falling over his face, his face and chest flush, your hand moved up to move his hair so you can see him in all his beauty. You leaned up to kiss him, creating a new angle that had you both moaning.

Harry could feel himself coming undone, knowing that he had to get you there first. He let his hand travel to wear your bodies met, rolling your bud under his thumb once again. You sat up on your elbows to keep the angle you both loved as well as to stay close to Harry.

“I’m so close, don’t stop Harry.”

He leaned in to kiss you, mumbling “I love you” against your lips between kisses. “Fuck, I love you so much, Y/N.”

At that confession, your arms gave out so Harry quickly gripped you close with his free arm and rolled his hips against you until he moaned out your name and let his orgasm flood over him. He gently laid you both down, resting his head on your chest as you both embraced and caught your breath.

Harry felt your fingers stop moving in his hair and little snores escape your lips. Harry has seen that sleepy pout on your daughter more times than he could count but seeing it on you has made him the happiest man alive. Harry maneuvers himself so that you are both lying comfortably and he falls asleep with his arms wrapped around you.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You wake up to find that Harry is not in bed, but all the clothes from last night are now in the hamper and there is a set of fresh clothes at the end of the bed. You can hear little giggles and a few “oops” from the kitchen. You get dressed and make your way down stairs.

Layla turns her head to you when you walk in, beaming with a “morning mama!” Leaning up to give you a kiss.

“Are you stealing chocolate chips again? Some extra sweet kisses this morning!”

Layla giggles as you press your hand a little firmer and longer on Harry’s lower back as you go for the coffee pot. You lean up to give Harry a kiss, noticing that he has been dipping into the chocolate too. Harry quickly went back in for another kiss, sweeter than the chocolate that lingers. You pull away slowly looking into Harry’s sleepy green eyes and wish him a good morning.

“Morning love, banana pancakes?”

“I’d love some.”

[djosfool]

Me and You Together

A/N: Hello! I would like to say first of all that ^ is not my gif. I had it saved on my computer from somewhere and it just felt perfect for this. I do love my little sweet pea and frat boy Harry, but I also feel like I’ve done them dirty in this fic. I wanted to add more angst, but we all know I’m shit at that kind of stuff bc I’m soft at heart. Anywho, I really hope that you enjoy this and I just want to thank the lovely @stellarboystyles​ for putting together this little fic challenge. Congrats on 3 years babe! I hope that you like this story and that I have done this celebratory moment justice! 

Word Count: 11.9 k 

Warnings: Alcohol, smut, pining, Louis being a dickhead, a mean roommate

Trope: Best Friends to Lovers with Frat Boy Harry 

Prompt: “Just sit on my fingers. Yeah, just like that.” (this is all the way at the end tbh, just a heads up lol) 

P.s I know nothing about frat’s honestly and I just tried to avoid that the best that I could but fratboy!h lives in my mind rent free and I wanted to write it so....yeah.

September

Piper’s POV 

I rolled my head back on my neck, looking up at the ceiling as my roommate sighed. 

“Has anyone told you that you’re a selfish bitch?” Carli asked, her perfectly manicured nail resting on the cheap, wooden door of our dorm room. “I’m trying to unwind and relax after an extremely hard week and you’re ruining it for me.” 

“I live here too!” I felt my brows pull together in frustration as I adjusted my bag on my sore shoulders, shifting from foot to foot. “The least you can let me do is come in and change before you start fucking.”

“You’re killing my mood!” She groaned, holding her hand out. “Give me your fucking bag and tell me what you need.” 

“Carli-”

“Tell me what you need or I’m shutting this door in your face, I swear to god.” She snapped, her brows arching up as she wiggled her fingers at me. “You have five seconds.” 

“Fine!” I said, shrugging my bag off my tired shoulders. “I need my purse, a black t-shirt, and a jacket.” 

“Great.” 

She slammed the door in my face, flicking the lock as I brushed my hands over my face angrily. 

College was not supposed to be like this. 

The next four years of my life were meant to be spent making new friends and partaking in fun activities on campus. So far, the only person I knew was Carli and she most definitely hated my guts with a burning passion. I wasn’t sure why she hated me so much when I mainly kept to myself, hunched over my desk with headphones on for most of the night when I studied. I hardly ever talked to Carli besides the odd argument about my typing being too loud and my presence being too...obvious. I hated every second of college so far and this wasn’t helping me at all. 

I was moments away from having a breakdown, the build up creeping up my throat as I stood there in the hall, waiting for Carli as everyone else stared at my back. I tried not to let their prying eyes bother me, but I could feel the hairs standing up on the back of my neck as I crossed my arms over my chest. I tried to distract my mind, thinking about where I was going to go while Carli got her rocks off in our shared room. Maybe the library? Maybe a cafe?

Just as I started listing off cafes in my head, the door opened just a crack. 

“Here’s your stuff, don’t come home before midnight.” She stuck a hand out, her voice muffled by the door. I rolled my eyes, grabbing my things from her hands. “Bye, Pippi!”

“It’s Piper, you unbearable asshole.” I sighed, holding my stuff close to my chest as frustrated tears started to accumulate behind my eyes. “I hope you don’t have an orgasm.” 

I turned on my heels, ready to storm towards the communal bathroom so I could change and collect myself before leaving. I only made it halfway down the hall when I heard someone shouting behind me. I wasn’t sure they were actually calling out for me until I felt a hand on my shoulder. I stopped in my tracks, sniffling as I reached up to wipe at my cheeks. 

“Piper, hold on.” The girl who was calling my name stepped in front of me, letting out a shuddery breath. She only had eyeshadow on one of her perfectly shaped eyes and a makeup brush in her hand as she stopped. “I just wanted to say that I am so sorry your roommate just did that to you. You can use my room to change if you’d like? I know the communal bathroom doesn’t always offer the most privacy and my roommate is never home. I’ll stand outside and everything!” 

“You don’t have to do that.” I sniffled before offering her a forced smile. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with teasing right now. “But thank you.” 

“I insist.” Her brown eyes looked softer as she spoke, her hand falling to her side. “My name is Eleanor. I think we have Modern English together.” 

“Piper.” I said. “Are you sure you’re okay with that?” 

“Yeah.” She nodded. “I don’t mind it at all, babes.” 

Eleanor left me in her room to get dressed, politely standing outside as I collected myself. 

I took a few deep breaths, trying to compose myself as I stripped out of the blouse I had been wearing all day. I pulled my black t-shirt on, huffing when I realized that this wasn’t the one I actually needed. This one was meant for darker jeans and a pair of heeled boots. This top was meant for parties and bars, not a cafe. The criss crossed pattern was far too fancy for a late night cup of coffee and a lonely piece of cheesecake. 

When I opened the door, my old shirt bundled up in my hand, I smiled at Eleanor. 

She looked over my outfit, her eyes growing wide. 

“You look great!” She said. “Do you have plans tonight?” 

“I was just gonna go to Fitz and Co for coffee and dessert.” I gave her a nervous chuckle, clutching my old shirt in my hands. “Probably going to wander around campus after to kill time.” 

“Don’t take offense,” She gave me a sweet smile, her accent growing thicker with each word she spoke. I hadn’t noticed it all that much before when my emotions were on overdrive and my mind was swirling with anger. “But that sounds absolutely dreadful and you deserve to have a little bit of fun. It’s Friday night for fuck’s sake and we’re in Uni!”

“I don’t really know anyone on campus.” I shrugged. “I’ve not made a ton of friends yet, you know?” 

“I do, actually.” She nodded. “If I had to say, you’re the first person I’ve tried to make conversation with since I’ve been here. I’m going to a party tonight because my boyfriend’s frat is hosting it, and he’ll just text me all night if I don’t go.”

“That sounds like fun.” I said. “Thank you for helping me out and offering me your room. I really hope you have fun tonight."

“Why don’t you come with me?” She asked. “I know frat parties sound horrible after all the stuff you see in films, and a lot of them are pretty shit, but I would love to have a drinking buddy.” 

“I don’t want to impose.” I said. “I’m sure you want to spend time with your boyfriend.”

“Nonsense, he sees me everyday.” She shook her head. “I would love to have someone to chat with that isn’t one of his football friends from back home.” 

“Um, okay.’” I shrugged. “I guess that’s not too horrible and I kind of owe you one.”

“You won’t regret it.” 

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“So the house shouldn’t be too crowded.” Eleanor pulled her flannel tighter around her body, hunching over as the wind whipped around us. “A few of the guys are still out getting alcohol and people aren’t supposed to start showing up for another hour at least.”

“That’s good.” I nodded. “So why did you decide to come to school here?”

“Louis.” She said. “I couldn’t stomach the idea of being away from Lou and there are so many opportunities in America for both of us. He’s here on a footie scholarship and I’m here on a performing arts scholarship.”

“That’s really cool!” I exclaimed, my eyebrows raising up. “I didn’t peg you for a theatre nerd.”

“Just a tiny one.” She chuckled. “I’m more into the costumes than anything. Fashion has always owned my heart and my Mum took me to so many musicals as a girl. I figured I would combine my love for both and make it my career.”

“I admire that.” I said softly, glancing down at the sidewalk as we turned a corner. “So how long have you and Louis been together?”

“Four years.” She smiled. “We met on a holiday to London one summer and we’ve never let go of each other. Last year we went to the same University for our first year before deciding to come abroad and it was….magical.”

“He sounds lovely.” I said. “He makes you happy?” 

“He does.” She nodded, her lips pursing slightly as she tried to hide her smile. “He’s a proper gentleman, even when he’s being a bit too laddie.”

“I don’t even know what that means.” I chuckled and Eleanor joined in. “What is a laddie? Is that like Lassie, the dog?”

“Not like that dog.” She scrunched up her nose. “I think you call them ‘Bro’s’ over here.” 

“Ah, I do understand then.” 

Eleanor and I continued chatting as we walked down Frat Row. 

The houses were large, but they looked a little plain and rundown. I imagine having a group of rowdy, drunk boys living in a house without supervision didn’t do well for wear and tear on a house. Eleanor told me that the last house on frat row in the cul-de-sac belonged to pretty much the entire footy team with a few odd guys sprinkled in. 

When we arrived, my jaw nearly dropped to the ground. 

I was living in a tiny dorm room and these men were living like kings and a gigantic and modern house that looked brand new. Eleanor laughed as I took in the dark, blue-grey exterior. The shutters and the porch were both painted a dark, charcoal grey. We walked up the stairs and I continued to look around like a kid lost in a candy store. 

Maybe joining a sorority wasn’t a bad move?

“So, that is the living room and just down that first hall is the bathroom. I recommend going upstairs to Louis’ room if you want to use a clean and unoccupied bathroom.” She chuckled. “I’ll show you around upstairs later if you’d like.”

“This is the cleanest Frat house I’ve ever seen in my life.” I said slowly, looking around. “How is it so pristine?”

“A few of the guys are really obsessed with cleanliness and organization.” She chuckled. “Also I spend a lot of time over here, so I do what I can.”

“I would spend all of my time here, too.” I said. “Why are you even in a dorm if you could be here?”

“Rules.” She rolled her eyes. “Technically women aren’t allowed to be housed in a frat, which blows, but I understand it.”

“Well, I’ll pretend to be you and stay in your dorm if you want to fly under the radar and move here.” I teased, patting her shoulder. “It’s a win win for both of us.”

“I might take you up on that.” She giggled, guiding me through an open archway. “This here is the kitchen-”

“Ellie, s’that you!” 

Eleanor flinched at the booming voice from upstairs, her eyes casting up to the ceiling as she grumbled. 

“Bloody hell, these men,” She shot me a sympathetic look and I tried my best not to laugh softly at her annoyance. “Yes, Niall?”

“I need help.” This accent was slightly different than Eleanor’s and it almost reminded me of the guy on the lucky charms commercial. “I don’t know what trousers to wear, should I do these dark jeans or these plaid one’s.”

The voice was closer and closer with each word and suddenly, a half naked man appeared in the doorway, holding two pairs of pants as he looked down at them. He was wearing white boxer briefs and white socks, the rest of his pale and freckled skin on display. I had to admit that he was extremely attractive, chestnut colored hair on top of his head and a soft stomach rounded out with a matching chestnut happy trail dusting under his belly button. 

“Oh, hello.” He looked up, smiling at me with piercing blue eyes and extremely handsome features. I tried not to blush, my eyes glued to his. “Which one’s do ya think I should wear, love? Good to have an outsider’s perspective sometimes.” 

The sound of a door shutting behind us caused my head to snap around. 

This was more of a man standing at the opposite end of the kitchen, his chocolate colored curls framing his face and resting on his broad shoulders as he looked up at me. His face was perfect, adonis like features catching my attention and his bright green eyes causing my breath to catch in my throat. He offered me a small smile, his features soft as he cleared his throat. 

“Hello.” He said softly to me before his eyes darted up, looking behind me. “For fuck’s sake, Niall. Why are you nearly naked!” 

“I needed help!” I turned my head back towards Niall as his brows pulled together, his lips turning to a scowl. “I can’t decide what trousers to wear and Liam is no help!” 

“We have a guest.” The green eyed god spoke from behind me, but I didn’t dare turn my head. I was afraid that if I did, I would be stuck staring at him for the rest of the night. “Don’t be rude.”

I glanced over at Eleanor who lifted her hand to pinch the bridge of her nose. 

I tried, again, not to laugh at her misery. 

“I swear to god, Niall,” She sighed heavily. “The least you could do is introduce yourself to the poor girl before you flash her.”

“M’Niall,” He rolled his eyes, looking over at me. “What’s your name, love?” 

Harry’s POV

“My name is Piper.” 

I stared at the back of her head, trying my best not to think about running my fingers through her soft curls that nearly matched the shade of my own. I inhaled sharply as I pressed my fingertips into the marble countertop below me. I had seen this girl, Piper, around campus before. I saw her flitting from building to building with her head tilted down and her headphones tucked in her cute little ears. I had a huge crush on this girl and now she was standing in my kitchen with my half-naked roommate and my best friend’s girl. 

This wasn’t a good thing at all.

“S’nice to meet you, Piper.” Niall winked at her and I rolled my eyes, shooting him a glare over the girls head. 

His brows furrowed and I gave him a pointed look before mouthing, ‘That’s the girl’.

Niall’s brows lifted up and he shot me a cheeky grin. 

He was the only one I confided in about my girl troubles. 

He knew all about the mystery girl that I passed by every day on my way to physics class and he had suggested to me several times that bumping into her was the best way to catch her attention. I declined, rolling my eyes at his childish suggestion. I had to admit though, if she had been in my class, I would have tossed paper at the back of her head to get her attention. 

It was a trick that never failed. 

“Well, I’m gonna go get dressed then.” He cleared his throat, glancing over at Eleanor. “Lou is stuck on the phone with his Mum, babe. I think he might need some rescuing if he’s going to join the party at all tonight.”

“Oh,” Eleanor stood straighter, glancing over at Piper. “I don’t want to leave Piper-”

“I can stay with her.” I cleared my throat, reaching up to fiddle with my hair as both girls turned to look at me. “I’ve finished my part of party prep, so I don’t mind.”

“Harry, I don’t know.” Eleanor said. “I’m already afraid Niall’s neon white body is going to scare her off. I don’t need you turning on your Cheshire Charm.”

“Oi, I resent that.” I narrowed my eyes at her playfully, trying to fight off my smile as she chuckled. “I won’t be turning on any charm tonight, love. I’ve got a big match to play tomorrow, remember? Gotta save my strength and energy if I wanna do well.”

“Alright, fine.” Eleanor sighed, turning back to Piper. “Are you okay if I disappear for a few minutes? I promise I’ll be right back.” 

“It’s fine.” Piper smiled at Eleanor, gently nodding her head. “Please, go ahead. I don’t mind waiting down here.”

“You’re sure?” Eleanor asked, her face laced with concern. 

“Positive.” Piper glanced over at me. “I think I’m in good hands with ol’ Cheshire Charm back there.” 

My smile was so wide that it hurt my cheeks. 

She was funny and gorgeous.

Eleanor glanced between the two of us before saying a quick ‘be right back’.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Piper turned around, her hands pressing against the countertop as Niall wiggled his brows behind us. He disappeared behind Eleanor moments later, leaving Piper and I alone in the kitchen. “Would you like a Whiteclaw?”

“Oh, sure.” She nodded, her eyes dropping down to her hands. “I would love one.”

“You seem a bit nervous.” I said, walking towards the fridge. “Do you have a flavor preference?”

“No.” She said softly. “And yeah, I guess I am a bit nervous. I’ve had a pretty tough day and I wasn’t exactly prepared to come to a frat party.”

“Why are you here then?” I asked, my eyes scanning the shelves until I landed on the one filled with canned drinks. I reached for two lime flavored cocktails, pulling them out before I shut the door with my hip. “If you don’t mind me asking, that is.” 

“Um, Eleanor extended the invitation and I kind of owed her one.” Piper smiled, taking the drink with a soft ‘thank you’. “My roommate is a bit of a dickhead and she kicked me out so she could get laid. Eleanor saw me in the hallway on the verge of a mental breakdown and we just...hit it off, I guess.”

“Sorry your roommate was a dickhead.” I smiled, letting my eyes roam over the soft features of her face. “I’m glad you and El hit it off though. It’s nice to have a new face around here.”

I let my eyes trail over the features of her face now that she was up close and personal. 

Her eyes were hazel, a soft golden hue to her irises. Her brows were thick and wild, but perfectly shaped. There were soft freckles peeking out from under her foundation and her cheeks were a soft shade of red. Her nose was soft and rounded at the end and I couldn’t help but think of hovering over her, brushing my own nose against hers as I thrust into her. 

I hated being a man sometimes. 

She was a beautiful girl and even in my head she deserved better than to be thought of that way. She was more than just a sexual object and she didn’t need some creepy frat guy thinking dirty thoughts about her only moments after meeting her. I cleared my throat, reaching for my drink. I took a long sip as she raised her brows, offering me a sly smirk as she sipped at her own drink. 

“Eleanor is a really sweet girl.” I rested my can on the marble countertop. “She’s been having trouble making friends over here, so it’s nice that she’s found someone to hang out with besides us.” 

“I really like her.” Piper said softly. “I’ve been having trouble making friends, too. I’m not really the best at putting myself out there, you know?”

“I think you’re doing just fine.” I flashed her a reassuring smile, noticing how her cheeks turned a shade darker. “I don’t think I’ve fully introduced myself, love. I’m Harry.”

“I’m Piper.” She held her hand out and I took it, giving it a soft shake. “It’s nice to meet you, Harry.” 

Her skin was so bloody soft, her hands a little cold and damp from the can she was holding. 

“You too.” I said. “If you need anything tonight, please don’t hesitate to find me. I know how overwhelming these parties can be and I’ll be happy to keep you company or walk you out for some fresh air if you need it.” 

“Thank you.” She said softly. “The same goes for you. If you need any company tonight, I’m your girl.” 

Just like that, my mind was back in the gutter. 

All I could hear in my head was the echoes of her sweet moans, her voice chanting over and over again ‘M’your girl, Harry. Yours’. I cleared my throat, giving her a tight smile as I tried to avoid thinking about her tucked in my sheets, writhing and gasping as I licked into her. 

I was so totally fucked.

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“Piper, babe,” I laughed, holding her hips tightly as she swayed. “I think we should sit you down for a minute, yeah?”

“If I sit, I’ll sleep.” She whined, looking up at me with her sweet puppy dog eyes. “Where did Eleanor go?” 

“Eleanor is going upstairs with Louis.” I said softly, digging my fingers into the fleshy skin above the waistband of her jeans. “Do you want me to take you home?”

She pursed her lips, shaking her head as she pressed her hands into my shoulders. 

I knew exactly how we’d gotten here. 

The party was still going strong around us, people dancing and shouting as Piper swayed in front of me. I wanted so badly to brush her hair from her face and stroke the soft skin of her cheek, but I would never do something like that when she was this off her face. Holding onto her hips was already too intimate for my liking, but I was afraid she would topple over without some form of support. She swayed forward, her eyes face pinching up ever so slightly before she pressed one hand to her forehead. I frowned, pulling her closer as a group of guys rushed by.

If Niall hadn’t suggested we play four drinking games in a row, Piper and Eleanor might not have been off their faces within the first two hours of the party. I had to admit that I didn’t exactly mind taking care of Piper. She was a funny drunk, silly puns and snide comments slipping from her lips carelessly as she leaned against me. It was when her eyes started to drift shut and her body started to sway, that I started to worry about her. I pulled her into the kitchen alongside a giggly Eleanor, handing them both bottles of water while I quickly cooked up some pizza rolls that Niall had hidden in the freezer. Both girls ate between loud laughs, knocking into each other as I watched them with a small smile on my face.

 Seeing Eleanor happy made me happy, but seeing her happy with the girl of my dreams made me feel like I was on cloud nine. 

“Mate,” Louis’ hand clapped down on my shoulder and I turned my head as Piper’s body fell into mine. “I can take her off your hands. El told me they live in the same halls-”

“She can barely stand on her own, Lou.” I shook my head, glancing down as she rested her head on my shoulder. “Gonna go put her to bed in my room. I’ll sleep on the couch after everyone is gone.”

“Lock the door if you leave her up there.” Louis said. “I’m going back up to El in a minute, but I figured I should get some painkillers and water for the morning.”

“Bring some up for Piper?” I asked him. “I probably won’t leave her alone in there, knowing all of these jackasses are around.”

“Tell me about it.” Louis snorted out a laugh, shaking his head. “I’ll be up in five.”

I nodded, watching him disappear through the crowd of people in our living room. 

“Hey, love,” I said softly. “Gonna take you upstairs and tuck you in, okay?”

“Kay.” She mumbled, turning her head until her nose brushed against the column of my neck. 

I made a mental note to have a talk with her tomorrow about going places with strangers when she was drunk. I knew that I meant no harm, but we were still getting to know each other. It set off a level of worry that I only ever felt when it came to my Mum or Sister. It was almost a primal need to protect, my arms winding tightly around her as I guided her to the stairs. 

It was no easy feat to get her up the staircase, but when we finally made it to my room, she snapped into a more alert mode. She looked up, her tired eyes growing as wide as they could before she brushed some of her hair out of her face. She looked up at me, her eyes searching my face as I pressed my hand lightly to her lower back. 

“Thank you for taking care of me, Harry.” She said softly. “I’m really sorry I’m ruining your fun.” 

“Nonsense, love.” I shook my head. “S’just another party, there will be plenty more.” 

“Still.” She mumbled. “I don’t want to take your bed. Sleeping on the couch is bad for your back and I overheard that you have a match tomorrow.”

“S’alright.” I said. “I’ve slept on a floor before a match and still kicked ass, Piper. I don’t mind giving my bed up for a good cause.”

She let out an aggravated sigh, rolling her eyes at me. 

I tried not to smile as she grumbled under her breath, reaching for the doorknob to my bedroom door. I followed in behind her, flicking the light switch on before I shut the door behind me. Piper staggered a little and I hovered, my hands waiting to catch her should she fall. Instead, she stumbled over to my bed on bambi like legs, collapsing on the foot with a soft groan. 

“You need some help?” I asked her as she lifted her leg, struggling with her shoe. She merely waved her hand at me, shaking her head. “You want something comfy to change into? I’ve got sweats, shorts-”

“Sweats sound lovely.” She mumbled, a soft ‘aha’ falling from her lips as she finally tugged the shoelace of her boot out of a knot. “You’re a true gentleman, has anyone ever told you that?” 

“My Mum.” I chuckled, walking over to my dresser in search of comfy clothes. 

“S’good,” Piper sighed out as her boot hit the floor. “Hard to find a proper gentleman these days, Harry. I think Jude Law was the last of them.”

“I won’t argue with you there.” I shook my head, trying to contain my laughter as I sifted through my sweatpants. I settled on my favorite pair, the light grey fabric soft and worn. “Do you want a t-shirt to sleep in or a long sleeve shirt?”

“Um, t-shirt.” She mumbled. “Your room is lovely. Did you do all of the decorating yourself?”

“I did, yeah.” I nodded. “Brought a few key things from home, but I spent most of my money in Target when I got here.” 

“Amen to that.” She hiccuped softly. “I like your record player. I’ve always wanted one of those.”

“One day you’ll have to come up and listen to some records with me.” I glanced at her over my shoulder, noting how the corners of her lips ticked up into a girlish grin. “What kind of music do you like?”

“All of it.” She said simply, her voice trailing off. “I’ve always been a fan of classical music for studying. My mom calls me a psychopath.”

“They are known for indulging in the genre.” I snorted, pulling out a white t-shirt before I turned around. “I think that’s lovely, though. I’ve heard some good stuff from Bach in my music theory class and I have to say, it makes for good studying music.”

“That’s what I’m saying.” She said. “I love me some cello, mate.”

“Look at that.” I hummed out, holding the clothes out to her. “Got you talking like a proper brit now, don’t we. Didn’t even know what footy was at the start of the night.” 

“Piss off.” She grumbled, trying to hide her amusement as she mocked my accent. 

“I’m gonna run to Louis' room while you get dressed, okay?” I said. “Gonna steal you some makeup wipes from El’s overnight bag so we can take your makeup off. I want you to lock the door and don’t open it for anyone besides me. I don’t care if it’s Niall or god himself, alright?”

“Alright.” She whispered softly. “You’re really fucking nice, Harry.”

I tried to resist the urge to brush my knuckles over the soft skin of her cheek, but I couldn’t. 

I inhaled sharply as she closed her eyes, leaning into my touch with a soft hum. 

“I’ll be right back.” I said softly. “Lock the door.”

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Piper’s POV 

Falling in love with Harry took me all of five minutes. 

I decided that it was physically impossible not to love someone so perfect. He was a real gentleman, keeping his hands in respectful spots even when I was falling all over him, drunk off my ass. I felt a little guilty about being so touchy-feely with someone I hardly knew, but I was comfortable around him from the start. He stood by my side for most of the night, talking with Eleanor and I as we tossed shots back like water. 

I stood up from the foot of his bed, fiddling with the button on my pants. My vision was most definitely blurry and my fingers were shaking as I swayed on my feet, but I managed to pull the button from the loop before I shoved my pants down my legs. It took a bit of wiggling to get my ass settled into Harry’s sweats, an article of clothing clearly meant for a man with no….assets. 

With a soft hiccup, I worked on my shirt, tossing it to the ground before I reached behind me to take off my bra. My drunk brain didn’t care about etiquette or embarrassment anymore. That all flew out the window with my third shot of tequila that Niall handed over. When I settled the fabric of Harry’s shirt over my tired limbs, I heard a soft knock at the door. 

I stumbled over, pressing my ear against the wood to hear who was there. I was plastered, yeah, but I remembered Harry’s speech about not opening the door for anyone. 

“Who is it?” I called out, my voice breaking just a little. 

“S’me.” I heard Harry’s gruff voice. “S’Harry.” 

I flicked the lock on the door, opening it up with a soft smile. 

Harry held up some makeup wipes and a bottle of water, flashing me a cheesy grin. I laughed, shutting the door and flicking the lock behind him again as he walked into his room. When I turned around, my arms crossed over my chest, he was looking at my body with soft eyes. 

“Everything feel comfy enough to sleep in?” He asked. 

“Yeah, thanks.” I nodded. 

“Alright.” He nodded, looking up at me with glassy jade eyes. “Let’s get you tucked in, shall we?”

I smiled, walking over to his bed. 

I picked the side farthest from the door and closest to the window. 

Harry pulled back the covers, waiting for me to climb in before he rested them over my legs. He set the bottle of water on the bedside table, two painkillers falling to the wood next to the plastic bottle. He sat down next to my legs, ripping into the makeup wipes with ease. I watched him pluck a sheet out before closing the pack back up, tossing it to the nightstand with the other items. I rolled my lips in as he turned towards me, holding the cloth out. 

“Do you want me to do it?” He asked. “Just so you know it’s all gone?” 

“Yes, please.” I nodded. 

I could take my makeup off in my sleep. 

I’d done it before, actually. 

But there was something about being doted on by Harry that I wasn’t ready to give up just yet. 

I preened as he wiped the cloth over my skin with gentle strokes, swiping away concealer and highlighter with ease. I let my eyes slip shut when he asked, his index finger gently brushing at the small bit of liquid liner and shimmery shadow on my lids. When it got to my lips, he did a few quick dabs before his touch was gone from my face all together. 

“All clean.” He smiled, tossing the wipe towards the bin in the corner of the room. “Alright, I’m going to tuck you in and turn on a movie. I’ll just be on the floor next to you if you need anything at all. Bathroom is through that door right there.”

“Don’t sleep on the floor.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m okay with sharing a bed with you, Harry. Friends do that all the time, don’t they?”

“But you’re drunk.” He said softly. “And I don’t want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable-” 

“I don’t.” I said. “From the moment we met, you’ve made me feel very welcomed and comfortable. I promise that I don’t feel unsafe or pressured in any way, Harry. If you feel more comfortable sleeping on the floor, then I understand, but I’m okay with you sleeping next to me.”

Harry reached up to rustle his long strands of hair, his curls flopping about as he looked at me with a curious gaze. He inhaled sharply, nibbling on his lower lip as I stared back at him with raised brows and an amused grin. 

“I’ll put a pillow wall between us and everything.” I said. “If it makes you feel comfortable.”

“I just don’t want you to wake up in the morning and freak out.” He said softly. “You’ve had a lot to drink and if you don’t remember any of this tomorrow, it might be a little scary to wake up with a strange man in your bed.”

“Well, it’s your bed.” I said softly. “And I’ve been worse off than this and still remembered what happened the night before, Harry. I come from a very small town where drinking is considered a sport. This is a regular Tuesday for me.”

“Alright.” He whispered through a breathy laugh. “But if you change your mind at any point through the night, feel free to kick me out of bed.”

“I won’t.” I rolled my eyes. “Get ready for bed, yeah? You’ve got a big day tomorrow and I can’t have you losing a match because of me. People will think I’m bad luck.”

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Harry’s POV 

When I woke up in the middle of the night, our pillow wall was gone. 

Piper’s cheek was pressed into her pillow, soft puffs of air escaping her parted lips as she tightened her grip on my shirt. Her hand was resting on my tummy and her foot was hooked over my calf muscle, but she remained on her side of the bed. I lay there for a minute, watching her peaceful face as she slept. I tried to commit her features to memory, my heart squeezing in my chest as she shuffled around a bit. I rested my hand over hers, softly brushing my fingers over her knuckles as her body moved just a little closer to mine. 

The dry feeling in my mouth pulled me from my peaceful moment, urging me to go downstairs for my own bottle of water. It was silent in the house, no more music pumping through the speakers downstairs, and I felt safe enough to leave Piper on her own in my room without the doors locked. I would only be gone for a few minutes at the most, running down for water before I ran back up to curl back up next to the sleeping girl in my bed. 

When I made it downstairs, Louis was already in the kitchen.

“Hey,” I grumbled, walking over to the fridge. “What are you doing up?”

“Same as you.” He said. “Thirsty.”

“Hmm.” I nodded. “Eleanor still knocked out cold?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled. “Love that girl to death, but she snores like a bloody chainsaw.”

“That she does.” I laughed, pulling a water bottle out. “I’m glad she’s got Piper as a friend. It was nice to see her unwind tonight.”

“It was.” Louis nodded, pressing his hip into the countertop. “Piper likes you.”

I nearly choked on my water as Louis looked up at me. 

“What?” I asked. “How on earth-” 

“It’s obvious, mate.” Louis rolled his eyes, an amused grin on his lips. “She’s got a bit of a crush on you, but what girl doesn’t?”

“Lou-” I said slowly, my eyes narrowing. “Why do I feel like you’re about to give me a speech.”

“It would break my heart if Eleanor lost her as a friend, Harry.” Louis said softly. “She doesn’t have anyone over here and I at least have you and Niall, you know? If she lost Piper because you two decided to fool around and things ended badly-”

“That’s not what this is.” I said quickly. “And I don’t appreciate what you’re trying to say, either. I would never hurt Piper, or anyone, on purpose. She’s a very sweet girl and it just so happens that I’ve liked her for a while.”

“You know each other, then?” Louis brows arched up and I sighed. “Wasn’t aware.” 

“We don’t know each other, but I’ve seen her around campus.” I mumbled. “Always had my eyes on her, Lou. She’s fucking gorgeous.”

“Harry,” Louis said softly. “I’m asking you as a friend, please don’t get involved.” 

“That’s a shitty thing to ask.” My voice was hoarse. “It’s late and we’re both still pissed. I’m going to bed.” 

“Just think about it.” He said, knocking his knuckles against the countertop. 

Lucky for Louis, it was all I could think about for the rest of the night.

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Piper’s POV 

When I woke up the next morning, I could feel Harry’s heartbeat against my cheek.

The annoying beeping of his alarm had me groaning and turning my face into his chest. I heard him mutter a soft series of ‘sorry’s’ before it turned off. Harry’s arm draped over my back, holding me against his chest as I closed my eyes again. I let out a soft hum as he brushed his fingers up and down my back, his chest rising and falling slowly under my head. 

“I see that we’ve lost the pillow wall.” Harry’s voice was deep and raspy, causing a shiver to run up my spine. 

“Sorry.” I whispered, lifting my head up as I pressed my palm to his chest. “I guess I tossed it aside in the middle of the night.” 

“You did.” He chuckled softly. “You pushed it down with your feet and then you pulled it out and chucked it because you were trying to get comfortable.” 

“You watched me?” I asked, blinking a few times to try and focus my vision as I rested my chin on the back of my hand.

“I felt you flopping around like a fish out of water and I had to check on you.” He said slowly, his own eyes still shut. “I fell back asleep and when I woke up for a wee you were snuggled so tightly against me that I could barely pry you off.”

“I didn’t know that I was a cuddler.” I mumbled softly. “I’ve never really slept in a bed with anyone else before.”

“Well, you can tick that box off of your bucket list.” He smiled, his fingers still brushing over my back as I looked down at him. “You staring at me?” 

“A little.” I confessed, a small smile creeping up on my lips. “Think you’re pretty.”

“Love,” He let out a breathy chuckle. “Easy.”

“What?” I asked, dropping my head back to his chest. “Why can’t I say you're pretty? We spent the night together, I’m allowed to compliment you a little.”

“Do you think it’s a good idea to flirt with me?” He cleared his throat, shifting around under me. I groaned, falling back to the pillow next to him. “Do friends flirt?”

Friends.

I should have known better. 

There was no way on earth someone like Harry would want to be with someone like me.

“Friends can call each other pretty.” I said dejectedly, turning on my side. “And friends can cuddle, too.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, you’re an amazing cuddler.” He said softly, pressing his palm to my bicep as he leaned over to kiss my temple. “You’re welcome to sleep more if you’d like, but I would love to take you out to breakfast.”

“Breakfast?” I turned my head, looking at him with furrowed brows. “I thought you had a match this morning?”

“I’ve got a few hours.” He rested his body next to mine, his head falling on the pillow next to mine lazily. “Eleanor will be at the match.”

“I know.” I whispered. 

“You should sit with her.” Harry smiled. “I would like that.”

“Okay.” I said softly as he snaked his arm underneath my own, curling it around my middle. I tried to fight off a smile. “Thought we were getting up?”

“Few more minutes.” He mumbled. “You smell nice. S’that your perfume or your shampoo?”

“Probably both.” I smiled, resting my palm over his forearm. “Both sweet pea scented.”

“Piper.” He mused. “Sweet pea.”

“What are you mumbling about?” I asked, trying to contain my giggles at his sleepy rambling. 

“Gonna call you sweet pea.” He mumbled. “Because your name starts with a P and you’re so sweet.” 

Fuck being friends. 

I liked this boy.

And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t ignore the fluttering feeling in my stomach. 

I was truly fucked.

                                           ⚽️🔹⚽️🔹⚽️🔹⚽️

December

Piper’s POV 

There were only a few seconds left in the match and our boys were killing it. 

Eleanor gripped my hand tighter as Louis shouted to Niall across the field. Seconds later, he was kicking the ball with the side of his foot. Harry was much closer to the goal, ready to land the winning kick into the goal. I looked at him, his chest heaving and his hairline coated in a thin sheen of sweat. His face was intense and it made my thighs clench ever so slightly to see him so serious. He was always so attractive in the middle of a game, his brows pulled together and his lips pinched tightly together. I loved watching him pull his hair up before a game, twisting the long strands around before he tossed it up in a bun on top of his head. 

“He’s got this.” I said. “Come on, Lou!”

“He’s gonna pass to Harry.” She shook her head. “He has to, babe. He’ll miss from back there.”

“They have five fucking seconds.” We always got a bit snippy during games, but never at each other. “It better be a flawless fucking pass.”

Louis passed the black and white checked ball to Harry with a swift kick and I held my breath, waiting to see what would happen. Harry pushed a guy on the opposing team gently with his shoulder, sliding low until his foot collided with the ball. Just as the last second ticked down, it collided with the net behind the goal and Harry collapsed on his back as players rushed around him. 

Everyone cheered loudly, Eleanor jumping up with a loud cheer alongside the crowd. I could barely move, my heart thumping so loudly that it was all I could hear. I watched Harry’s back flat on the ground, my eyes watering as he continued to stay still. When I saw him sit up, shaking his head, I finally took a deep breath. Moments later, Louis and Niall were lifting him up on their shoulders. 

“Thank, fuck.” I whispered, standing up next to Eleanor as I clapped. 

Harry’s eyes flitted to the stands, landing on mine with a wide grin. 

He was covered in mud and dirt, but he was fine. 

Eleanor grabbed my hand, guiding me down towards the field. 

She was quick to launch on Louis when her feet hit the grass and Niall was quick to run over and scoop me up. I patted him on the back, laughing as he shook me around in his arms. 

“We won!” He cheered. “We bloody won!” 

“I know!” I chuckled, brushing my hand over the back of his head. “I’m proud of you, Ni.”

He put me on my feet, pressing a kiss to my cheek before he turned around to Harry. He grabbed his best mate by the face, kissing his forehead before he ran off shouting something that was terribly hard to make out. I rolled my eyes, steadying myself on my feet. Harry walked over to me, holding his arms out with that same wide and cheeky grin on his lips. 

“Come give your best mate a hug,” He said. “Gotta thank my good luck charm.”

“Harry, no.” I said, holding my hands up. “You’re covered in mud and grass and- Harry!” 

I squealed, taking off on the grass as Harry chased me. 

I dodged a few members of the opposing team, apologizing profusely. 

It didn’t take very long for Harry to wrap his arms around me, pulling me against his chest. 

“I deserve a bloody hug, sweet pea.” He squeezed me tight. “I won!”

“I know, but you’re gross.” I groaned, dropping my head back. “You get to shower before we go to lunch and I don’t.” 

“You could always join.” He whispered, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. “Know you’ve been dying to see me naked, haven’t ya pea?”

“I will elbow you.” I grumbled, spinning around in his arms. “Don’t be a prick.”

“Just like watching you blush, Piper.” He reached over, pinching my cheek softly. “Where are we going for lunch today?” 

“Where do we always go for lunch?” I rolled my eyes. “Go on, get cleaned up so we can go.”

“Fine, fine.” He sighed. “I’ll see you in ten?”

“I’ll be here.”

I walked back over to Eleanor and Louis, my mind stuck on Harry’s cheeky comment. 

I hated when he did stuff like that. 

He was always toying with my emotions, pulling me to and fro like I didn’t have any feelings at all. He knew that I had a crush on him and he knew that it sucked for me to be so close, but I had the power to stop it at any time. The truth was that I couldn’t stomach the thought of being away from him like that. I wanted him in my life, no matter how I could have him. I walked towards Eleanor with a heavy sigh, crossing my arms over my chest as she kissed Louis deeply. 

Being around a couple constantly was torture when you weren’t apart of one yourself. Especially when the person you wanted to be a couple with was always around anyways. When the pair were done kissing, Louis ran off towards the stadium to take a shower in the locker room. Eleanor smiled over at me and I gave her a blank stare, my lips turning down. 

“What happened?” she asked softly. 

“He’s done it again!” I tossed my hands up. “He was all ‘you should come shower with me, I know you want to see me naked’. Isn’t he the one who keeps insisting we should just be friends?” 

“He’s an idiot.” She rolled her eyes. “I hate that he keeps doing this and I hate that you won’t let me talk to him about it.”

“I don’t want to come between you and an old friend, El.” I shook my head. “He’ll grow up eventually, I guess. If he doesn’t, I guess I’ll have to start moving on.”

“I think you two would be so perfect for each other, babe.” She sighed. “I don’t know what his deal is!”

“Has Louis said anything?” I ask softly. “I don’t want to pry but-”

“Not a word.” She said, her sympathetic grin causing my heart to sink. “He spends all of his time with you and we both know that he’s into you, but something is holding him back.”

“Yeah.” I grimaced. “I like him so much, El.”

“I know.” She frowned. “I wish I could smack some sense into that thick skull of his. I mean, men can be so daft and then they say we’re the complicated ones!”

“I know!” I exclaimed. “Anyways, you and Lou are still coming to lunch with us, right?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “Louis is dying for a turkey apple sandwich.”

“That does sound good.” I hummed out. “I was thinking about soup, though, it’s freezing out here.”

“Oh, soup.” She groaned out. “That’s perfect,”

                                                        ⚽️🔹⚽️🔹⚽️🔹⚽️

Harry’s Pov

I wrapped my towel around my waist, letting out a heavy sigh as I turned the faucet off. 

I hated what I was doing to Piper. 

My sweet pea.

I couldn’t help but rile her up like that, watching her face flush red as I whispered in her ear. 

Part of me was certain that I was riling her up so that she would make the first move. If that was the case, maybe Louis would realize that our feelings for each other were real. 

“Mate,” Louis said. “What was that on the field?” 

“What do you mean?” I asked, my brows furrowing as I walked up to my locker. “We won, Lou.”

“I meant when you were chasing Piper.” He said. “That was flirting, Harry.”

I snapped my mouth shut. 

If he heard the things that passed between Piper and I when we were alone, he’d be livid. 

It was borderline verbal sex with us sometimes, the tension so thick that it had her clamping her legs shut and me shifting in my seat. 

“Was just teasing her, Lou.” I rolled my eyes. “You’re not getting onto Niall for picking her up and kissing her face.”

“Niall means no harm.”

“And neither do I.” I shot him a glare. “Mind your mouth.”

“Why her, Harry?” He sighed. “You could have any bird or lad on campus and you want her, why?”

“Because she’s Piper.” I turned towards him. “She’s the one that I want, okay. I can’t tell you why I think about her every moment of the day or why I want to be with her, I just do. I want to be there for her and you’re stupid fucking fear for Eleanor is standing in my way.”

“You can do what you want.” Louis’ jaw tensed. “M’not standing in your fookin’ way, mate.”

“But you are!” I shouted. “You are because you know that I would never do anything to hurt you or El because you’re family to me. You asked me not to do something and I’m being respectful of that because I respect you. I can’t say that you respect me though, because you would never ask this of me if you did. Can’t you see that this is killing me?”

Louis let out a frustrated huff as I turned back to my locker. 

I grabbed my clothes, angrily pulling them on before I ran my towel over the wet strands of my hair. Piper would be pissed to see me pulling at my curls instead of properly scrunching them up with a soft t-shirt, but I couldn’t be arsed to care about that right now. I slammed my locker shut, hiking my bag onto my shoulder before I stormed out of the locker room. When I walked out onto the field, Eleanor and Piper were whispering amongst themselves. 

“I just don’t get it.” Piper let out a sad sigh. “I want-”

“I know, babe!” Eleanor interrupted her with a chipper voice, pressing her hand to Piper’s bicep with a wide smile. “I wish they still had pumpkin spice too, I already miss it.”

“You women and your pumpkin spice.” I grumbled, pressing my hand to Piper’s hip before I leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Know you miss it, Pea, but it’s peppermint season now.”

“You’re right.” She gave me a playful pout. “I guess I can survive with that for now.”

“Thatta girl.” I chuckled, pulling my hand back as she reached up to touch my hair. “What?”

“You didn’t scrunch your hair properly, H.” She sighed. “I’ve told you to take better care of these curls! They’re going to be frizzy when they dry.”

I licked over my bottom lip, resisting the urge to lean down and kiss the pout off of her lips. 

“Sweet Pea, I’m sorry.” I said softly. “I was in a little bit of a rush, yeah? Wanted to get my favorite girls to lunch.”

“In that case, I guess I can forgive you.” She mumbled. 

                                                    ☕️☕️☕️☕️

Piper’s POV 

I sipped at my peppermint latte as Harry tossed a french fry into his mouth. 

“So when are you all flying home?” I asked. “Only a few weeks left until Christmas and exams are almost over.”

“El and I are flying out next Friday.” Louis said, smiling over at his girlfriend. “I’m excited to see me Mum and sisters.”

“Me too.” Eleanor nodded. “Missed them all.”

“What about you, H?” I asked. 

“I decided to stay.” He shrugged. “I don’t want to disrupt my schedule mid year, you know? It’ll be hard for me to get back into things come January if I spend an entire three weeks vegging out with Mum and Gem.”

“Oh.” I said softly, my face falling as he cleared his throat. 

He was avoiding something and he was sad about it. 

“I’m not going home either.” I said softly. “Too expensive to fly around the holiday’s, you know? Don’t make nearly enough being a full time fan girl for the footie team.”

“Tell me about it.” Eleanor rolled her eyes playfully. “Who do I talk to about getting that raise I was promised.”

“Oh, you get plenty as it is.” Louis leaned forward, capturing her lips. “Pay you in love and other things.”

Harry let out a frustrated sigh, standing up from the table. 

“I’ve gotta go.” He pulled his wallet out, tossing twenty five dollars onto the table. “S’enough for both of us and the tip, Pea. I’ll see you later in Mcgregor Hall for our study session.”

“H-”

“Bye.” He leaned over, pressing a sloppy kiss to my forehead before doing the same to El. 

I watched him storm out with a confused look on my face. 

“Should I not have asked about Christmas?” I looked at Eleanor with soft eyes. “I can’t….El, I can’t do this anymore.”

“Babe, it’s gonna be fine.” She said softly. “He’s just a bit moody today, isn’t he? Misses his Mum a whole lot, it has nothing to do with you.” 

“What are you two on about?” Louis asked, glancing between us. “Is something going on between you and Harry?”

“No.” I shook my head. “That’s the problem.”

“They have this chemistry and Piper really likes Harry, but he told her that being friend’s was their best option.” Eleanor explained softly. “Sometimes he’s sweet on her though and it makes her sad because she wants him.”

“El.” I mumbled, my cheeks growing warm. “He doesn’t need all of the details.”

“You like that miserable sod?” Louis asked. “You’re not worried about a relationship with him ruining your friendship?” 

“Not really.” I shook my head at Louis. “Harry and I will always be friends.” 

“No, I mean,” Louis sighed. “You’re not worried about it ruining you and Eleanor’s friendship?”

“No.” I said slowly. “What are you talking about?”

“I feel like if you and Harry were to break up, you wouldn’t want to be friends with El because he’s always around.” Louis said softly. “Wouldn’t that be hard?”

“For a bit, yeah.” I shrugged. “We’re both mature, though. I think we could work through any differences and remain friends.”

“Why are you being so nosy?” Eleanor narrowed her eyes, looking at Louis. “What have you done?”

“Nothin’!” Louis exclaimed. “I’ve not done anythin’.”

“Louis!” She cried out. “You’re lying to me.”

“M’not.” He fidgeted in his seat, avoiding her gaze. “Swear I meant well.”

“Louis, what did you do?” I asked softly, my heart dropping as he avoided my gaze. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything, I just…” He licked over his bottom lip, looking between Eleanor and I with wide eyes. “I just asked him to consider your friendship with Eleanor before making any moves on you. I didn’t want to see her lose her best friend, you know?”

“You’re a sodding prick, Louis Tomlinson.” Eleanor snapped. “You knew that Harry would respect that if you asked. He thinks of you as a brother and he would do anything for you.”

“I have to go.” I grabbed my bag and my coat. “I have to find Harry.”

“Go on,” Eleanor said. “I’ve got a very naughty boyfriend to deal with.”

                                           ❄️💠❄️💠❄️💠❄️

The first place I ran to was the frat house. 

Harry wasn’t there and Niall hadn’t seen him at all. 

The second place I ran was the park on the far end of campus that we often spent weekends at.

He wasn’t there either. 

When I finally found him, I was only a little shocked. 

“You just played a match, mate.” I let out a relieved sigh when he snapped his head up, his eyes softening when he saw me. “What are you doing out here?”

“Just needed to clear my head.” He said as I walked closer. “Why are you here?”

“I had to see you.” I took a deep breath, swiping the ball from between Harry’s feet with a swift kick. It landed in the goal and Harry let out an amused, but breathy chuckle. “I’m getting good.”

“You’ve got a good teacher.” He snorted out a laugh. “Everything okay, sweet pea?”

“No.” I said. “You see, I’ve got this friend and he’s having some girl trouble.”

“Oh, yeah?” He asked. “What’s his deal?”

“He really likes this girl and he flirts with her all the time, but he hasn’t made a move.” I shrugged, glancing up at Harry. “There’s this other friend of theirs that asked an impossible favor of him and he’s being loyal, which I admit is admirable, but a little daft, as you would say.”

Harry’s Adam's apple bobbed up and down softly and he looked over my head. 

“He does sound quite daft, doesn’t he?” He let out a soft laugh, closing his eyes. “Piper-”

“It makes me love him more though.” I said softly. “The fact that he’s putting aside his feelings because he’s that loyal to the people he loves. It’s stupid, but really sweet.”

“You think so?” He asked, his eyes a little watery as he looked down at me. 

“I do.” I nodded. “Why didn’t you talk to me about this, Harry? We share everything with each other and-”

“This was the one thing I couldn’t tell you, pea.” He said softly. “I never wanted to hurt you and...I knew that this would.  I didn’t want you to feel like I was choosing something over you, because that isn’t the case.” 

“Harry, it’s okay.” I said softly. “I would have understood and I also would have had a very long talk with Louis about minding his own business, darling. You’re free to be with whoever you want and no one can tell you otherwise.”

“What if I want to be with my beautiful best friend, pea?” He reached up, brushing his thumb over my chin. “What if I want to be with the girl that stole my heart the moment I saw her?”

“Then make a fucking move, Styles.” I let out a breathy laugh as he leaned closer. “She won’t wait around forever. She’s a fucking catch and-”

Harry’s lips pressed into mine, cold and wet and perfect. 

I pressed my fingers into his shoulders, gripping his coat tightly with glove covered fingers. 

He tilted his head slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of my lips. 

“You’re perfect, Piper.” His breath washed over my lips as I shuffled closer, desperately seeking his body heat. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” I said. “Just be with me, H. Be mine.”

“I’ve always been yours, Piper.” He brushed the tip of his nose over mine. “Always will be.”

When Harry’s lips pressed to mine again, something wet landed on my cheek. 

We both pulled back, looking up at the sky with wide smiles. 

“Snow.” I said softly. 

“Christmas miracle isn’t complete with snow, is it?” He teased, brushing his nose against mine. 

“Shut up and kiss me.” 

                                                 🎄❄️🎄❄️🎄❄️

Harry’s POV 

Louis looked like a child who had just been told Santa wasn’t real when Piper and I walked back into the cafe holding hands. He shot me a soft look that said ‘mate, I’m really sorry for being a dickhead’ and I gave him a tight smile in response. We still needed to have a talk about everything, but there was no use in fighting over something that was in the past now. It felt good, sitting next to Piper as her boyfriend and not just her best friend. It was sudden and my mind was still reeling, but I wouldn’t want it any other way. I walked her back to her dorm that night with a pout on my lips and our fingers tightly laced together. 

“I don’t want to say goodbye, pea.” I mumbled, my thumb brushing against her cheek softly as we stood in front of her door. “Just got you.”

“You’ve always had me.” She snorted out a soft laugh. 

“Never been able to make out with you, though.” I wiggled my brows. “Think we can finally carry through on all that sexual banter we’ve been partaking in.”

“Yeah.” She said quickly, her cheeks getting pinker. “But not tonight, H. Think we should take some time apart to think about things before we jump right in. It’s going to be a bit different now and I need to get used to the idea.” 

“Take as much time as you need.” I pressed my lips to hers in a soft kiss. “I’ll be waiting.”

I was only slightly regretting my words now. 

Everyone had left for Christmas and we had the house to ourselves. 

We were in the middle of a movie marathon in the living room, a few bottles of wine and takeout boxes scattered on the coffee table as we snuggled into each other. Piper’s head rested on my chest and her fingers rested against my stomach, slightly drumming over the bit of holiday weight I had put on over the last week or so. She looked so cute all snuggled up in my sweater and a pair of fluffy sucks, my sweatpants tucked into them carelessly. 

“You’re thinking too loud.” She whispered, lifting her head up. “What’s going on in your head, H?”

“Just thinking about how cute you are.” I smiled down at her. “You’re all snuggled up in my clothes with your pretty hair and your pretty eyes. I just can’t believe that I’m lucky enough to call you my girl.”

Her eyes searched my face as I reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“I want you.” She said softly. “But I’m scared.”

“I wasn’t…” I trailed off. “M’not trying to get in your pants, sweet pea. I just wanted you to know that I’m so in love with you.”

“And I’m in love with you.” She sat up. “And I would really, really like to show you how much I love you.”

“When you’re ready.” I said. “I know that you didn’t have the best first time and you’re a little nervous to dive back in, but I can wait. I want you to be one hundred percent ready when the time comes.”

She inhaled sharply before giving me a soft nod. 

“I love you.” I said, brushing my thumb over her bottom lip. “Get back over ‘ere, pea. Wanna snuggle you some more.”

                                               🎄❄️🎄❄️🎄❄️

Piper’s POV 

Harry was snoring softly in my ear on the couch. 

The sun had long gone down and the credits for The Holiday were rolling on the flatscreen in Harry’s living room. With a soft groan, I flipped around in his arms, nuzzling my face into his chest as he tightened his arms around me. The scent of his cologne filled my senses, nearly lulling me back to sleep. I was moments from falling back into dreamland when I felt something firm pressing between my thighs, causing my eyes to snap open. I pulled back to look at Harry’s face, his eyes still shut as he continued to softly snore. He was still fast asleep. 

I let out a soft gasp, my walls clenching down as I shifted against his thigh. I let out a soft gasp, my fingers tightening against his sweater as I stilled my hips. I tilted my head back, looking over his face as he slept peacefully. I didn’t want to wake him, but was done waiting. I wanted him. I wanted everything with Harry and I especially wanted to indulge passion filled moments with frantic hands and desperate kisses with a christmas film playing in the background. 

“Harry.” I said his name softly, my fingers trailing up his throat to cup his cheek. “Harry, baby, wake up.”

“S’wrong?” He asked, tucking his head down. “You alright?”

“I want you.” I said it softly, my heart pounding against my chest. “I’m ready.”

“Sweet pea, s’late.” He opened his eyes. “Are you sleep talkin’?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I mean it.” 

I rolled my hips, grinding my core against his thigh to really send the message through. 

“Piper.” He gasped, his eyes wide open. “Darling, what….what’re you doing?”

“Was trying to snuggle up to you and you put your thigh between my legs, H.” I said timidly, my face heating up under his gaze. His lips were curling into a soft smile and I bit the inside of my cheek. “It felt nice.”

“S’that why you want me?” He let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “Needy girl.”

“Please.” I whispered. “I need you.”

“I’ve got ye’.” He leaned down, pressing a series of soft kisses to my lips. “Gonna push your pants down, okay?”

I nodded, but she shook his head. 

“If we’re doing this, I want to hear you.” He said. “I need you to say what you want.”

“Take my pants off.” I griped, tilting my head back.

“Good girl.” 

Two little words.

They sent a shockwave through my body, running straight to my core. 

I let out a soft whimper as he pushed at the waistband of my pants. 

“M’too tired to fuck you.” He said softly. “But I promise to make you feel so good, sweet pea. Gonna have you cummin’ fo’ me.”

“Please.” 

I shifted my hips as he moved the waistband of my sweats to my thighs, his hand brushing up the skin of my leg to my hip. He gave it a soft squeeze as our lips collided and I squirmed beneath him. He pulled back, brushing his nose against mine with his eyes shut tight. 

“Do you want my fingers?” He asked me softly. 

“I do.” I nodded. “My fingers are too small and I can never get the angle right when I try.”

“Fuck, pea.” He groaned, opening his eyes. “You’re killing me, my love.”

“Just want to love you.” I pouted my bottom lip out. “Wanna feel good.”

“I know, darling.” He sponged a few soft kisses over my hairline. “Let me get on my back, okay. I want you to ride my fingers.”

Harry wrapped his arms around my body, turning onto his back. I fumbled, my chest pressed tightly to his as he let one of his hands trail over my bum. I whimpered when he tucked his fingers between the crease of my bum and my thigh, brushing the pads of his fingers over my lower lips. His other hand maneuvered its way between our bodies, his thumb brushing swiftly over my clit before it dipped towards my entrance. 

“S’this okay?” He asked. “You feel comfortable?” 

“Yes.” I nodded. “I’m good.” 

He inserted his thumb, pulling it out quickly before he slipped it back up to my clit. 

He rubbed soft circles over it as his fore and middle finger brushed over my entrance in a teasing manner. 

I rolled my hips, desperate to have them inside of me. 

“Yeah, just like that.” He said gruffly. “Ride my fingers, sweet pea. Take what you want from me.”

I gasped when he pushed two fingers into me, my slick walls stretching around them as I moved my hips. I pushed down as Harry curled his fingers up, stroking over that spongy spot inside of me. I moved my hips up, his fingers sliding out slowly before I fucked back onto them. He cooed, brushing the pad of his thumb over my clit in quick circles. 

“You’re so tight, Piper.” He whispered into my hairline as I gripped onto his shoulders. “You’re clenching my fingers so tight.”

“Feels so good, Harry.” I whimpered. “Wanna cum.”

“Are you close?” He asked, a teasing lilt to his voice. “My girl is so greedy, isn’t she? Gonna cum before I properly fuck her with my fingers becuase she wants it so bad, isn’t that right?”

“Yes.” I gasped against his throat. “I need to cum, Harry. It feels so good and I can’t...I need it, baby. Please let me cum.”

“Take it.” He said, sliding his free hand up to my hip. “Take it from me, Piper. Make yourself cum for me sweet pea.”

I felt my thighs clamping as he pressed harder against my clit, my hips stilling against his hand as he stroked that spongy spot inside of me. I felt my walls clenching down around his digits, my whole body warm as my mouth fell open. It was better than any orgasm I had ever experienced on my own and it had me crying out into the skin of his neck. He brushed his hand up my back, slowly slipping my fingers out as I started to come down. 

“You’re so good.” he whispered. “That was perfect, darling. Did so well for me, didn’t you, pea?” 

“That was nice.” I mewled. “Thank you, thank you-”

“Gonna treat you so good tomorrow, darling.” He promised, a sharp edge to his voice. “Gonna spend hours with my head between those pretty thighs and then I’m gonna fuck you like you want. Gonna have you screaming for me, sweet pea.”

I whimpered into his neck, nodding. 

“I want that.” I whispered. 

My eyes felt heavy as he started to pull my pants back up. 

“I love you so much, H.” I whispered, my eyes slipping shut as he covered me up. “Love you, darling.”

“I love you more, pea.” he whispered. “Go to sleep, baby. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

I drifted off to the sound of Harry’s voice, my face snuggling into his shirt. 

This was all I ever needed. 

[luminescencefics]

stir me up

Harry Styles doesn’t know much, but he does know two things. He knows that there’s not many things a good cocktail can’t fix, and he also knows that he can’t stop thinking about the blonde-haired girl who he shamelessly flirts with during his shift every Friday evening.

Willa Tillerson might know too much, to be fair. She knows that she lets work slowly take over her life, she knows that this work-life balance her friends talk about is nothing short of fiction, and she knows that she can’t help but look forward to Friday’s so that she can flirt with the handsome barman at the pub across the street.

A oneshot about drinks and the people who make them, featuring a hint of pining and a dash of a (potential) happily ever after.

written for @stellarboystyles​‘s 3 year anniversary 

mutual pining // prompt #3 “You’re really cute when you start rambling like that.”

harry/ofc, 15k

Willa Tillerson notices two things instantly when she walks into The Churchill Arms after a long and tiring day at work. The first is that her coworkers have already started without her, a pile of empty pint glasses nearly towering over the wooden table they’ve deemed as their own in the back corner of the pub. The second is that her favorite barman is working.

She tries her hardest not to make eye contact with him, because Willa has always thrived on playing hard to get. But there’s no denying that he makes it that much more difficult, with the way his brown hair wisps around his forehead in fluffy curls, and the way his black collared work shirt strains over his bulging biceps when he pulls a pint from the tap, and the way his green eyes light up and cherry lips quirk with a boyish grin when the door shuts tightly behind her, the bell above clanging together in a pretty tune.

Willa Tillerson is trying.

Before she can begin putting her black leather Saint Laurent boots in front of the other, she hears a loud posh voice calling her over towards the back table. With her new handbag held tightly under her armpit, she begins barrelling forward, purposely sashaying her hips back and forth when she walks past the bartop, ignoring the hot gaze that hits her lower back.

“About time! You’re nearly an hour late, Ms. Workaholic,” Annabelle tuts once Willa has approached the table. She rolls her eyes, putting her Celine handbag on the hook below the table and throwing her Isabel Marant wool longline jacket on the back of one of the unoccupied chairs.

“Oh be quiet, I just had some last minute things to catch up on,” Willa retorts, doing her best to turn off Work Willa and turn on Fun Willa.

It’s hard sometimes, considering her job has been taking over most of her life for the better part of the year. She loves the work, and Willa will be the first person to admit that, but it can be a bit gruelling at times.

But she can’t complain, because she’s passionate about her position as a senior designer at Kensington Interior Design Ltd. Willa’s been lucky enough to work at the company ever since she finished uni years ago, and she received the promotion almost four months ago. Her workload had increased tenfold—but she really can’t lament. Even though she’s almost the last person to leave the office every night, and she’s now the last person to trickle in to their after-work drinks tradition that started a few years ago, and she honestly can’t remember the last time she had been out on a date ever since she’s been working through the weekends.

Willa’s really trying.

The sudden urge to have a cocktail is almost all-consuming. So with a quick flick of her neck towards the bartop to Annabelle, Willa grasps her wallet in her hand and struts over towards the counter where her favorite barman is already waiting for her.

“Evening,” he calls out, his right dimple already sunk deep into his ivory skin, causing Willa to grin right back at him. His arms are stretched out wide against the dark wooden countertop, causing his large shoulders to jut out. Willa is doing her best to not stare at the dark ink swirling up and down his toned arms.

“Hi Harry,” Willa responds easily back, resting her forearms on the countertop and leaning forward in her boots so that her cleavage is a bit more exposed in her tight white blouse.

“Your regular, then?” He asks with his deep voice, and Willa just nods back, suppressing the flush that’s beginning to crawl up her sternum when Harry reaches down for the bottle of gin and begins scooping ice into the shaker, pouring a generous amount into the tin.

Harry’s focus shifts towards the task at hand, and he feels grateful for the excuse to point his green eyes at something other than Willa’s pretty face and exposed neckline. He’s really doing his best to keep his eyes above her collarbones, but she’s making it increasingly difficult with each shift forward against the wooden bartop.

“How was work?” Harry asks after placing the gin bottle back into the speed rack. The distraction of watching him make a cocktail is brief, but Willa is happy for the extra minutes she gets to stare at him unabashedly without him knowing.

“The usual, how about you?” His eyes finally rise from the cocktail shaker and meet hers, and her lips begin to lift because she already knows what he’s going to say.

“The usual.” It’s said with a shrug and a smirk, and even though Willa and Harry have the same transfer of words every Friday evening, it still doesn’t fail to make her red-painted lips quirk up in a pretty smile.

He hands over her martini in exchange for Willa’s credit card, which he slides through the machine swiftly to start her tab that he knows won’t exceed four drinks.

Willa loves how their little flirting ruse has been quite routine for the past two months. She knows that they flirt from a distance, with lingering gazes and small quips of lips into half-smiles, half-smirks. She knows that he remembers her drink order by heart, but still asks her because it’s cordial. She knows that he always asks her how work was, to which she always responds the same thing. She knows it all.

So when she starts to pivot on her back foot to head towards her coworkers, she stops abruptly when Harry leans forward against the bartop, crossing his arms over his chest to support his torso.

Because she hasn’t known him to do this.

“You look nice tonight, Willa.” His voice sends shockwaves through her insides and it happens so quickly that she can’t even try to hide the blush that finally rests on her cheekbones. Before she can think of a witty response or even a gentle thank you, Harry’s already begun moving to the other side of the bar to help another customer.

Before Willa can start to get confused glances from other patrons, she begins to walk forward towards her coworkers, trying her hardest to force the blush to leave her cheeks. Because Harry has never complimented her appearance before, and while she appreciates the gesture, she can’t help but wonder if her surprised look threw him off.

“He is too fit to be a barman,” Ethan says once Willa has slipped into the chair with her jacket on the back, pulling a long sip from her Vesper. She’s grateful for the harsh sting that soothes her burning insides.

“He really is. If I was single I would jump on that in a heartbeat,” Annabelle agrees, shooting Willa a knowing look to which she tries her hardest to ignore.

She really doesn’t want to talk about her love life, or lack thereof, in front of her coworkers.

“Honestly Willa, if he played on my team I would already have done it,” Ethan announces a bit too loudly, forcing Willa to swat at his side.

“Ethan!” Willa shrieks, shooting a glance over his shoulder to see if Harry had overheard anything. He hasn’t, luckily, but he has felt her gaze linger on his frame for a bit too long, so when green eyes meet blue she quickly looks away, swallowing down her drink.

Ethan just shrugs her off, finishing up the pint in front of him. “Oh, bugger off. I don’t know what you’re waiting on, Wills. You clearly fancy him.”

“I don’t even know him enough to fancy him, you twat,” Willa says, placing her drink down on the table to give her friend a sharp look. “I think he’s nice to look at. And he makes a good drink. That’s it.”

It’s a lie and everybody at the table knows it, so when they all roll their eyes and tell her to fuck off, she doesn’t even feel bad.

“Sure, Wills. Fancy getting the next round, then? If you just think he makes a good drink, it shouldn’t be a problem, right?” Ethan asks and Willa just ignores him, practically finishing her martini in two full gulps. She knows that he’s taunting her, and when he looks at her Willa shakes her head, praying that he’ll just drop it.

He does, because even though Ethan can be a bit much at times, he knows all of the shit that Willa has been through this past year. And while he means well and really wants Willa to branch out and meet new people, he knows that he can’t push her. So he lets it go and Willa does her hardest to not watch Ethan interact with Harry at the bar. Does her hardest to ignore the way Harry’s gaze shifts to hers in a questioning look when Ethan orders her a new martini.

She needs more liquid courage.

So when Ethan hands her another drink without a word, she’s thankful for that. Because as much as she wants to talk to Harry again, she’s far too shy to do it herself. And not to mention a little thrown off at his last comment—because she wasn’t sure that their relationship existed outside of flirtatious looks and short-worded conversations.

So she sits in the back with her coworkers and drinks and makes sure that whenever she chances a look at Harry, he’s busy doing other things. And after she’s finished her third cocktail, she throws her jacket on and approaches the bar to close her tab, just like every other Friday before that.

“Have a good night, Harry,” Willa says once she’s slipped her wallet into her purse and slides the checkbook over towards his large hands.

Harry just nods, looking at her with that special glint in his eyes he saves just for her. “You too, Willa. See you next week.”

And when she walks over towards the door and feels the chill of the autumn breeze hit her flushed cheeks, she’s wondering if the warmth that lingers on her skin is from Harry’s gaze or if she’s just imagining it.

***

Willa’s spirits are quite high when she walks into The Churchill Arms that next Friday only a few minutes after five o’clock for the first time in about a month.

She had just won over a top tier client and was working on the next steps to continue growing her portfolio. It was between Willa and another senior designer at the firm, and by some stroke of luck, she had been chosen to redecorate the master bedroom in their Knightsbridge mansion.

Her good mood is palpable, and Harry can practically feel her beaming from the entryway of the bar. She looks the same as she always does, far too pretty and successful to banter with a barman like himself, but she still does it anyway. Her long legs are hidden under flowy navy dress pants, heels giving her that extra bit of height that makes her seem larger than life in the dimly lit bar. She’s wearing a cream-colored scoop neck top that makes Harry imagine what she’ll look like leaned over the bartop, and before he can even realize he’s been staring at her for far too long, she gives him a glowing smile and he feels as if he’s weightless.

Willa saunters over towards the table in the back where her coworkers are already waiting for her, with Ethan grabbing her jacket and handbag and wrapping her up in a hug and Annabelle holding out a shot glass filled with clear liquid and a bright smile covering her face.

It’s times like these when Willa feels as if everything is falling into place.

She shoots back the tequila with grace, clamping her teeth down on the lime until the acidic taste quels the stinging of the liquor. Willa leans her head into the crook of Ethan’s neck, feeling his warmth completely encapsulate her body.

“So proud of you, Wills,” Ethan whispers into her blonde hair. Willa just squeezes his hip back in thanks, reaching into her handbag to grab her leather wallet, beginning her normal trek up to the bartop to see Harry.

He’s already waiting for her like usual, a rapturous smile covering his face. He looks exactly how she feels—happy and warm and safe, and she wonders if she’s just realizing it now or if he’s always looked like that. His arms are doing that thing again where the muscles practically stretch his cotton work shirt to shreds, and his eyes are doing that shimmering thing where Willa knows she should look away but she can’t, and his hair is doing that floppy thing that makes Willa want to run her fingers through the tendrils, and Willa feels the warmest she’s felt all night.

“Hi Harry,” Willa says once she’s approached the counter, leaning forward and causing Harry’s green eyes to darken a bit. It’s exactly as he imagined it, and he isn’t even trying to hide the fact that his pupils dart down before lifting to her blue eyes once more.

“Evening, Willa. Celebrating something?” He asks, gesticulating towards the empty tray of shot glasses lingering on the wooden table her coworkers are occupying in the back of the room.

Her eyes light up even more and she nods her head in an excited, enamoring way. He leans forward too, resting one forearm on the clean bartop and his other arm is bent at the elbow, holding his face as he watches her.

Willa tries her hardest not to lean forward an inch more.

“Had a good day at work, landed a really important client,” Willa explains, and she’s fully aware that the pair are straying from their usual Friday conversation, but she really could care less.

Harry gives her a look of admiration. “That’s wonderful. Congratulations are in order, I reckon.” He’s giving her a mischievous look and Willa suddenly feels intrigued. Apparently that was the only sign of approval Harry needed, because he suddenly reaches down and makes two shot glasses practically appear out of thin air, pouring them to the brim with the same clear liquid Willa had just swallowed a few moments prior.

“I’m hoping the other one is for you?” Willa asks in a low voice, cocking her head to the side and looking up at Harry under her thick eyelashes. He can practically feel the groan forming in the back of his throat when he pictures her looking up at him for a different reason entirely, but he suppresses it with a quick nod of his head.

“‘Course. ‘S bad luck to take a shot by yourself.” His voice is even lower than hers, and Willa’s surprised that she can hear it clearly with the barrier of the bartop between them. Willa seemingly agrees with Harry’s statement, because she’s suddenly standing upright, reaching her long fingers out to cup the cool glass in her palm, arching her eyebrow when she realizes that Harry is watching her instead of copying her movements.

“Cheers, Harry,” Willa says, extending her arm and smirking to herself when Harry hurriedly grips the short glass, sloshing a bit of the tequila over the edge. He regains his cool composure though, before extending his arm as well and clinking the glasses softly together.

“Cheers, Willa.” His voice is guttural and Willa can practically feel it resonate through her. But before she could think about it too much, she’s bringing the glass to her rogue lips and knocking the liquid back, keeping her blue eyes locked on Harry’s green.

His lips are moistened from the tequila and a small dribble has started to form on the lower left side of his mouth, threatening to leak down to his chin. Without even thinking (or maybe thinking quite a bit, to be fair), Willa reaches her hand out and cups Harry’s chin, before thumbing at the liquid to make it disappear.

His eyes are blown wide and suddenly the clamor from the busy bar turns into white noise, and all Harry can see is Willa. All he wants to do is grab her smaller hand in his and hold on for dear life, bringing her closer and closer into his atmosphere before she floats away. But then, a voice asking for a refill breaks his reverie and he’s back to tending the bar and ignoring the blazing feeling of where Willa’s hand once was on his mouth.

She waits patiently while he pulls a pint from the tap, watching as his large hands grip the cool glass easily, the motions practically ingrained in his system. He’s quite graceful behind the bar, all long limbs grabbing glasses and mixing different liquids together in such a fashion that makes Willa never want to return to that wooden table in the back of the room.

Before long, he’s right back in front of her, asking if she wants her usual drink to which she responds with a dazed yes. He doesn’t say much to her, still reeling from the fact that she was so close and he couldn’t do anything about it because he was behind the bar and she was on the receiving end, the sobering cognizance surging back into his skin that he is, in fact, at work, and can’t spend his night kissing the pretty blonde patron (even if it’s all he can think about, really).

Once the martini is placed on a cocktail napkin in front of her, Willa reaches for her credit card causing Harry to shake his head with a small grin on his lips.

“No, no. This one’s on me,” before Willa can protest, he cuts her off. “Congrats again, Willa.” And with that he’s off to the other end of the bar, leaving Willa feeling a lot more hot (and bothered) than she was earlier.

Once Willa returns back to the table, she finds herself sandwiched between Ethan and Annabelle, talking about anything and everything. The group rarely bring up work, and instead, Willa finds herself joking around with the office intern and reminiscing about drunken uni nights, finds herself gushing over Annabell’s engagement ring and revelling in wedding plans, finds herself laughing at Ethan’s crude jokes about all of the failed dates he’s been on in the past few months.

Willa finds that she’s actually having a lot of fun.

After her second martini, Willa asks the group if they’d like another round and with a few negative responses, she walks back over towards the bar. Harry can see her out of his periphery, and the sight of her with flushed cheeks and messy hair and glossy eyes causes him to overpour the pint glass in his hand, sticky beer coating his long fingers.

He shakes it off and rubs the remaining liquid on the bar rag in his back pocket, handing the glass over to the burly man who ordered it and accepting his payment with a quick nod. He really wants to head over to where Willa is before the other barman notices her.

Harry’s expecting her to ask for her tab, because he’s noticed that she’s had two martinis and two tequila shots, and she’ll probably want to call it an evening.

But when she’s looking at him with big blue eyes and a hint of a smirk on her lips, he’s suddenly hoping that she doesn’t want to leave. That she’ll stay for quite a bit longer, actually. (And maybe even long enough so that he can walk her home after his shift, but he doesn’t want to think about that all too much).

“Hi Harry, fancy making me another?” Willa asks once he’s in front of her, swiveling the empty up glass in her dainty fingertips. He smiles at her, plucking the glass from between her hands, trying to ignore the burning feeling on his flesh from where their fingers touched.

“Thought you’d be heading out by now,” Harry says in between exchanging the gin bottle for the vodka bottle, pouring a generous amount into the tin.

Willa laughs a bit, shaking her head softly. “Kind of feel like staying out a bit longer.” She’s fully aware that the alcohol she’s consumed throughout the evening has made her much more bold, but she really doesn’t care. She’s grateful for it, in fact, once she’s noticed the darkened look in Harry’s eyes and the sultry smirk gracing his cherry lips.

“I’m glad. Always feel like you cut out a bit early, anyways.” His eyes lift from stirring the liquid in the tin to her pupils, and Willa wonders if he’s speaking in riddles like she is.

“Are you trying to persuade me to stay longer?” Willa asks, and she’s doing that leaning forward thing again and Harry can feel his neck tense with the running reminder to not ogle at the swell of her breasts trapped inside her tight top.

He puts the top back on the cocktail shaker and lines up a new glass, straining the Vesper into it. “Might be.” He’s trying to be smug but Willa is really testing his patience, and she’s found that she quite enjoys making him squirm.

She grabs the glass as he’s placing it on the bartop, her thin fingers falling over his wider ones, causing his hand to still. She’s leaning forward on her forearm, her chest resting over the skin practically causing her breasts to spill out of the tight material of her top. Harry gulps harshly, slipping his fingers out from under hers and immediately regretting the warm feeling that leaves his hand.

Willa giggles again, staring at Harry as she takes a sip from the cocktail, her lipstick leaving a mark on the lip of the glass, making Harry practically fall over at the sight of her.

He has a feeling she knows exactly what she’s doing to him, and normally, he would be annoyed. But for some reason, this pretty girl with too-expensive shoes and put-together makeup and an all-together sophisticated demeanor is somehow the hottest person he’s seen sitting at this bar in weeks. And even when her hair is messy and her eyes are blown out and her lipstick is a little smudged, she still causes Harry to fidget and second guess what he’s saying to her.

He also can’t deny the sudden urge to bend her over in the toilets and make her squirm instead.

He coughs into his fist, breaking the spell, and thankfully Willa gets the hint. Without another word, she slides her credit card over the wooden counter and slips it under Harry’s palm, muttering a slow, “Keep it open, please,” before slinking back to her friends.

Harry’s in a daze and he really needs to do something about the tightness in his pants. But before he can dwell on it any longer, a redheaded girl has taken over the spot Willa was once in and he’s forced to think about something other than the blonde girl sneaking looks at him from across the room.

After two more cocktails, Willa has come to the conclusion that she’s had quite enough to drink. She’s the type of drunkenness where laughter comes far too easily and she feels a bit too warm in her clothes, and while she has the sudden urge to dance and kiss a pretty boy, she knows that she’s done for the night. Because she doesn’t want to lose this feeling, and one more drink will definitely cause her to be the type of drunkenness that includes a side of nausea and a dizzying headache.

She grabs her belongings and gives both Annabelle and Ethan a sloppy kiss on the cheek, promising to meet them Sunday afternoon for brunch. Willa starts heading toward the bar on shaky feet, and when Harry looks at her with an amused grin on his face, she’s quite thankful for the countertop that she can latch onto, because she could get lost in his green eyes if she wanted to (and she really wanted to, more than anything).

“I think I’m throwing in the towel,” Willa slurs through a smile, watching the way Harry’s lower lip juts out in a pout. Her eyes fall to the pinkness of his round lower lip, noticing the slightly chapped skin and admiring the stubble framing his mouth. She starts to think about how kissable they look, but then the pout leaves and he’s forming words and Willa focuses back to listening instead of staring at him hungrily.

“Ah. As the barman, I fully support this decision,” Harry starts, sliding a glass of water over in her direction and beginning to run her credit card before slipping the receipt into a checkbook with a pen. “But, as a normal guy, I’m quite disappointed.”

Willa pauses signing the dotted line at the bottom of the paper. “A normal guy, huh?”

He watches her close the book and slide it back over in his direction, her face scrunched up in confusion. He wonders how somebody could be both sexy and cute at the same time, and wonders how she does it so effortlessly.

“Yep. You do know that I work on other days besides Friday, yeah?” Harry asks, leaning a bit forward so that the conversation can be as intimate as possible in the newly crowded area.

Willa looks at him and smiles, relief flushing over her as her drunken convoluted mind comes to the conclusion that Harry is, in fact, finally making a move. Albeit it’s not as direct and Willa is fairly certain that if she were a bit more sober she’d actually pick up on what he’s been hinting at the entire night, but nonetheless, she takes it in stride, finding herself leaning in a bit more towards his towering frame.

“I think I’ll take you up on that offer.” Willa watches as Harry’s eyes light up, and she’s almost certain that he’s leaning closer towards her, but she steps back with a sly smirk. She wants to leave Harry wanting more (even though all he does is want her, practically every waking moment she’s in this bar), so she sneaks away with a tiny wave, causing Harry to come to a startling realization.

Willa Tillerson knows exactly what she’s doing.

***

The next time Harry sees Willa, he didn’t think she’d look so dejected.

He hears the bells chime when the heavy oak door closes behind her. It’s a Wednesday, therefore her usual gang of coworkers haven’t entered the bar at all this evening. At first glance, Harry’s excited to see her, thinking about the last time he saw her and invited her to come in on a non-Friday. But once he sees her blue eyes are a bit dull and her trousers are crinkled from slumping in her office chair long after everybody has left and she just looks, well, sad, he’s instantly concerned.

Willa wasn’t really thinking all too clearly about her arrival when she looks around the half-full bar. It’s a much different scene inside than it normally is on Fridays—the leather booths along the far side of the wall are filled with people eating dinner, the music is a calm acoustic playlist, and Harry is standing alone behind the bartop.

She can feel his eyes on her frame immediately, and while the warmth is still there, she suddenly feels timid under his unwavering gaze. Willa’s fully aware that she looks exactly how she feels—complete and utter shit. It’s a far cry from how she felt the last time she stepped foot in The Churchill Arms, but she didn’t feel like going home, and when she remembers Harry’s invitation to come in on another day, she didn’t really think twice about changing her route to the bar instead of the tube to head home for the evening.

“Evening Willa,” Harry greets her like normal, and he isn’t really sure how to play this one out. He really wanted to sound more excited to see her, maybe playful even, but he doesn’t want to scare her away. Because even though she looks upset, he still really is glad she came in.

But there’s no denying he’s worried.

“Hi Harry,” Willa mumbles, sliding her heavy Theory trench coat off her shoulders and hanging it around the back of the leather barstool. Her handbag rests on the hook under the bartop, and she realizes then that this is the first time she’s ever sat at the bar with Harry in front of her.

He slides a cocktail napkin over in her direction, just like he does with every other customer, and waits patiently for her to look him in the eyes. When she finally does, clear blue eyes squinting up at him with an unknown emotion covering her face, he wants nothing more than to jump over the barrier between them and hold her close.

But he can’t.

So he does the next best thing he could think of—ask her what she’d like to drink.

Harry is expecting her to ask for her usual. But she surprises him (something she’s been doing quite a bit of lately) and gives him a sad, half-smile. “What do you usually drink when you’ve had a shit day?”

He frowns at that. “That bad, huh?” He’s leaning down over the counter on his forearms, trying to reach her at eye level. She’s not backing away, which Harry appreciates, and before he can lean in a bit closer, she gives him a small shrug.

“Yep. I’m officially the sad girl at a bar asking the cute barman to make her feel better with copious amounts of alcohol. Think you can help me out with that?” Willa’s head is cocked to the right in question, her blue eyes brightening when Harry’s lips form a deep grin.

“You think I’m cute?” He asks, reaching for the nice bottle of Reposado he saves for himself after long nights behind the bar. Harry watches as Willa gives him a genuine smile, and he finally feels the mood begin to lighten around them.

Willa chooses not to answer, instead, her eyes widen at the bottle in his large hands. “Tequila? Are you trying to kill me?”

He laughs, reaching into the ice bin to deposit a few cubes into the highball glass on the counter. “This isn’t just any tequila, Willa. Trust me, you’ll like it.”

When the cold glass lands on the cocktail napkin in front of her, she reaches for it, holding it up in front of her face a bit in Harry’s direction in cheers. His eyes squint behind his smile when her lips wrap around the glass, taking a generous sip without flinching.

She doesn’t need to tell him that it’s good, because he already knows that.

Instead, he rests his palms on the countertop and looks down at her. “So, why are you officially the sad girl at my bar, Willa?”

“Christ,” Willa starts, swallowing down another gulp of tequila. “Am I really going to be that person who tells the barman all the woes in their life?”

Harry laughs. “Only doing my job here, babe.”

She laughs a bit, finally feeling a bit better. Maybe her decision in coming here wasn’t as stupid as she originally thought. Maybe seeing Harry on a night where she can actually hear him and be in his presence without the lingering feeling of another patron waiting for her to finish up, or the looks she gets from Ethan and Annabelle when she’s so obviously flirting with him, or the loud music reverberating through the wooden walls, is exactly what she needed.

So, Willa gives in.

“You know how I’m an interior designer, right?” Willa starts, watching as Harry nods instantly. “Well, I had just gotten back from a meeting with a new client—”

“—The big one, yeah? The one you were celebrating last week?” Harry asks, and Willa immediately feels her cheekbones warm. She feels a bubbling in her stomach at the fact that Harry remembered, and before she can get sidetracked on the feeling inside of her, he’s nodding at her in a way that’s asking her to continue.

“Yeah. Anyways, on my way back to my office, I ran into my ex-boyfriend.” Willa takes a break to sip the tequila again, trying her hardest to wash the image of Gavin and his blonde hair and smug look out of her brain with each harsh sip.

“That’s never fun,” Harry admits. There’s no denying the fact that he’s a bit chuffed to hear that she has an ex-boyfriend. Even though a part of him knew deep down that she must have been single with the way she was flirting with him and pushing her chest in his direction and wiping his lips clean of leftover tequila. But he can never be too sure.

But he doesn’t want her to think that.

“Oh that’s not the best part!” Willa announces, feeling herself hot with anger once again. She thought she had gotten rid of it when she slumped in her leather office chair for the past few hours, staring at the white wall thinking about how much of a fucking prick Gavin actually was.

“What happened?” Harry’s voice is soft and kind and it suddenly calms Willa down. She starts to feel her anger dissipate with each second Harry’s green eyes are on hers, and she’s wondering what that all means.

“He was early for a meeting with one of my coworkers. He has plans to make the spare bedroom in his loft a nursery.” Willa’s eyes fall from Harry’s and focuses on the amber liquid sloshing around the heavy ice cubes. Instead of anger, Willa just feels sad.

Not only sad. She also feels a bit stupid, if she’s being honest.

Because Gavin didn’t want her in the same way Willa wanted him. Gavin wanted stability, a place of his own with a wife who would be home with their baby. He always believed that Willa put her career first, which in hindsight, was probably true.

But Willa was not the type of woman to stop doing what she loved in order to make the person she was with feel secure. She was not the type of woman to bury her feelings in order to make her partner feel comfortable. She was not the type of woman who would drop everything in her life to have a baby.

So when she tells him this, he walks away.

It was only until today that Willa discovered he had found another woman to do all of that for him instead.

“I’m sorry, Willa. That’s really shit,” Harry says softly, forcing Willa to turn away from the liquid in her glass and look at him. Him, with his fluffy chestnut curls. Him, with his forehead scrunched in concern. Him, with his cherry lips turned downwards. Him, who causes Willa to realize that she shouldn’t be upset over Gavin.

Not anymore, that is.

“Yeah,” she shrugs and finishes off her drink, nodding silently when Harry offers her another. “It’s been almost a year now, and honestly I do feel like I’m over it. It’s just—I don’t know. It just sucks realizing that he’s moved on and he’s finally gotten what he wants and I’m still so unsure of everything.”

“Who says we’re supposed to have everything figured out?” Harry responds, placing a new drink in front of Willa.

She looks at him and wonders how he can make sense of all of this with a few measly words. Wonders how he always seems so confident and sure. Wonders how he’s made her feel comfortable in this bar on a Wednesday night. Wonders if he’s always been like this, to be fair.

“You’re quite good at this,” Willa says after a beat, smiling when Harry laughs.

“Yeah, well, it’s part of the gig.” Before he can stay and talk with her longer (because he could give fuck all about his job at this point), one of the waitresses rings in a drink order and Harry’s off to the other end of the bar, pouring pints and scooping ice into glasses.

Willa doesn’t mind. She actually finds it quite comforting to watch him work. He’s a natural conversationalist, always making eye contact and coaxing laughter out of people. And while she sits and continues to drink, she notices how he always manages to glance her way whenever he is in the middle of performing different tasks, and she finds that her heart keeps swelling with every shy look he sends her.

Two more drinks later, Willa starts to realize that she hasn’t even thought about Gavin at all. Instead, her mind is filled with green eyes and curly hair and mermaid tattoos. She’s found that her eyes keep tracing over Harry’s features—at his sharp jawline, his scattered freckles, his carved muscles, his long torso. She’s quite overwhelmed with how handsome he is under the dim bar lighting, and she’s quite grateful to be sitting this close to him for this long.

Harry makes sure to keep Willa company between drinks, watching the way she seems to grow a bit lighter with each passing sip. A large part of him wishes he could just close early so he could take her home and make sure she stays this level of content for the remainder of the evening, but with each passing hour, he’s watching her eyes grow a bit heavier and he knows that it’s only a matter of time before she leaves him again.

Willa begins to reach for her wallet just as Harry saunters over towards her. “Leaving so soon?” He asks even though he already knows the answer.

“Unfortunately, I have to wake up early tomorrow for work. And I’m already dreading the ghastly tequila hangover I’ll be dealing with,” Willa says, handing over the thick plastic card in Harry’s direction.

Harry laughs. “Hey! I wasn’t the one who asked for a different drink this time!” His tone is light but Willa is quite intoxicated, and normally she would be able to identify the hint of sarcasm lacing his words. But she can’t this time, and suddenly her cheeks burn red and she starts stammering out an apology and Harry can’t help but watch her with a grin.

“Shit! I, uh, didn’t mean it like that. I mean, yeah—I definitely asked you for your usual, and I didn’t mean to insult you! I just, uh, let me rephrase—”

Harry’s laughter cuts her off and Willa drops her forehead into her awaiting palms in embarrassment. “You’re really cute when you start rambling like that.”

Willa lifts her head up and smiles at him, reaching for the checkbook in his extended arms. “You think I’m cute?” She asks in the same way Harry did to her hours earlier, and she watches as he looks deep into her eyes with an unwavering look.

“Much more than cute.”

If Willa was warm before, she feels sweltering under his gaze. She tries her hardest not to let his words affect her, but she gives herself away when she almost drops her credit card while she’s trying to slide it into her wallet, when she starts fidgeting in the leather of the barstool, when her throat suddenly becomes dry and she starts to take heavy gulps of the water glass in front of her.

“Do you live close by?” Harry asks after a beat of silence passes through them. He’s suddenly aware of the late hour, and even though he wishes she could stay, he has the overwhelming urge to make sure she gets home safely.

Willa shakes her head before wrapping herself up in her coat. “No, near Swiss Cottage. I’ll just take the tube, it’s not far.”

Harry immediately shakes his head, reaching behind him to grab the telephone near the till. “Nonsense, you’re not taking the tube at this hour. Sit here, I’ll call you a cab.”

Before Willa can argue, Harry’s already punching the numbers into the phone, giving the driver the address of the pub to pick Willa up at. Normally, Willa would be annoyed at his forwardness. But, she finds it quite charming that Harry is hellbent on making sure she gets home safely, and she finds that she’s not annoyed in the slightest.

“He’ll be ‘round in ten minutes,” Harry announces once he’s hung up and he’s stood in front of her again, looking at her in a way that makes Willa warm all over.

He has a habit of doing that, she thinks.

Just as she was going to thank him, Harry’s attention is drawn to the older man at the end of the bar asking to settle up his tab. With an apologetic look, he heads over, forcing Willa to wrap her scarf around her neck and gather her handbag so she’s not sitting there looking at Harry like a lovesick puppy.

When Harry’s back in front of her, she notices the headlights in the windows announcing the arrival of her cab. Just as she’s about to say her goodbyes, Harry cuts her off, his arms holding him up as he leans forward, staring at her with nothing but intent in his green eyes.

“Go out with me.”

“Pardon?” Willa asks, completely thrown off by his declaration.

“Saturday. I want to take you out.” The cab driver honks from outside and Harry’s practically desperate, needing Willa to say yes. He doesn't think he’ll get another chance alone with her.

Her eyes shift from the car to his. “Okay.”

“Yeah?” He asks, breathless.

“Yeah.” It’s final, sure and assertive, and before Harry can say anything else, Willa’s already heading for the door, offering him one last lingering gaze before the bells clang above her head, signalling her departure.

Harry’s almost positive he’ll be dreaming of that look for the next three days.

***

On Friday evening, Willa decides to skip out on after-work drinks with her coworkers. It’s not because she doesn’t want to see Harry—because every time she closes her eyes all she sees are his staring back, and she really doesn’t know what to do about that.

Willa’s not used to being so enthralled with somebody else, and all she wants is to play it cool for their upcoming date. So when she’s home in her flat, she throws her mobile on her bed after ignoring Ethan and Annabelle’s incessant calls about her bailing on them. And just before she falls asleep, she digs into her comforter and finds that she has a text waiting for her from an unknown number with an address and a message underneath.

Don’t overthink it. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow. x

When she clicks on the address and it populates on her Maps app on her mobile, she finds that it’s a pub somewhere in Camden. Before she can overthink it, just like Harry’s message predicted, she shuts off her mobile and forces herself to sleep and try not to think about the boy who’s been infiltrating her dreams for the past three nights.

Just as Willa’s getting ready for her date, she decides that she’s been ignoring Ethan for far too long, and reluctantly decides to call him back while applying a generous coat of mascara to her eyelashes.

“Christ Willa! You have a date with the fit barman and decide to go AWOL in the meantime? How bloody selfish can you be!” Ethan’s voice squeaks out through the receiver on Willa’s mobile, and she honestly shouldn’t be surprised at his dramatics after knowing him for four years, but she still rolls her eyes anyways.

“His name is Harry,” Willa decides to mention while placing the mascara wand back in the tube on her vanity.

“Oh, pardon my mistake, Wills. Imagine my surprise when Harry asked me for your bloody number last night! You at least could’ve given me a heads up so I didn’t look like an absolute git standing there with my mouth hanging open,” Ethan recounts, and Willa can practically see his erratic hand movements with each stressed syllable that comes out of his lips.

“Aren’t you the one who’s always telling me to branch out and meet new people?” Willa says through mumbles, making sure her lipstick application isn’t butchered through her choppy conversation with Ethan.

She hears Ethan’s cackle through the speakers. “I didn’t actually think you’d listen!”

Willa chooses not to respond. Instead, she leaves her bathroom vanity and heads over to her closet to grab her black leather heeled boots resting on the bottom of her shoe rack. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she starts shoving them on while she waits for Ethan to talk—knowing fully well that quiet pauses in conversations never sit well with her obnoxious friend.

“So, where’s fit Harry taking you?” Ethan finally asks.

“Some pub in Camden, according to the address he sent me,” Willa says while grabbing her tube of lipstick, keys, and wallet and throwing them into her small black leather shoulder bag.

“Camden!? Please tell me you’re not wearing your bloody Celine bag!” Ethan is absolutely ruthless and Willa is really regretting calling him back.

“Will you calm down? I doubt Harry would take me to some dodgy pub,” Willa assures him, flicking off the overhead light in her bedroom as well as the kitchen light and beginning to lock up her front door.

“It’s just so not you, Wills.” Ethan’s words cause Willa to freeze while turning her key into the lock in the hallway of her apartment complex. In retrospect, Ethan does have a point. Willa’s not entirely sure what she’s doing going out with the barman she’s been shamelessly flirting with for the past two months.

And while it’s slightly terrifying, Willa finds a rush of excitement scouring through her veins.

“What if that’s the point?” Her friend hums on the other line, and it’s one of those rare moments when Ethan is actually silent during conversation. Willa takes this in stride, locking up her front door and heading out towards the Underground near her complex.

She says goodbye to Ethan as she’s descending the cement stairs, knowing fully well that her reception will cut out the further down into the station she goes. Willa promises to call him the next morning, and reassures him that she’ll let him know if she needs a rescue (even though she’s fully certain that no danger will come her way with Harry by her side), and happily ends the call just as she’s stepped onto the platform.

The journey doesn’t take as long as Willa would like, considering she’s still wringing her hands together as her body is riddled with nerves when she gets off at the appropriate stop. While Harry has done nothing but make her feel comfortable, there’s no denying that for the first time since knowing him, she’s finally meeting him outside the comfort of The Churchill Arms. She’s finally going to be able to stand near him without the barrier of the bar between them, and while the thought of that is what sends her brain into overdrive, there’s no denying the nervous butterflies floating around her stomach, racking against her ribs until she’s forced to meet the situation head-on, exiting the Underground faster than when she first entered.

Once she’s on the pavement outside, she reaches for her mobile to pull up the address Harry sent her last night. According to her Maps, the pub is a short five minute trek from the tube station. Tucking her chin into her charcoal longline jacket to escape the biting wind, Willa starts walking, trying her hardest to quell the rib-racking nerves shaking her body.

Just as she’s a block away, she notices her destination on the corner of a somewhat quieter intersection. The building is tall, brick-faced at street level, a black sign with The Camden Eye written in capitalized white letters. The pub is lodged between a restaurant and a coffee shop that’s long since been closed. When Willa cranes her neck up, she can tell that it’s two-floors, with loud laughter reverberating through the cream-colored cement walls that have aged with time.

Willa’s head begins to search over the small crowd of people outside the front door, trying her hardest to spot curly hair amidst the cigarette smoke wafting around the entrance. Just as her eyes fall on a tall figure in a cable knit jumper and a long navy trench coat, eyes locked on the glowing screen of his mobile, her own vibrates in her left hand, and she notices it’s from Harry.

Hey, I’m waiting outside. Can’t wait to see you. x

She grins at the message, locking her phone instead of responding to his text considering he was standing just across the street from her. As she approaches him quietly, she takes this time to quietly acknowledge him. It’s sort of cute the way he stares at his phone, undoubtedly waiting for the bubbled three dots to appear with her response that won’t come. He shifts a bit in his brogue boots, the hand not holding his mobile nipping at his lower lip.

Willa wonders if Harry is as nervous as she is, too.

Before she can get caught, her heeled boots stop a few feet away from his, and she watches his head snap up when she calls out his name softly.

Almost instantly, Harry shoves his mobile into his pocket, no longer needing the distraction. Instead, his green eyes shift to Willa’s blue, and his mouth quirks up in that slanted boyish grin of his that she has grown to love, his dimples appearing through the light stubble surrounding his mouth. Willa watches as his eyes dart down from her face to scan over her outfit, and for the first time since knowing her, Harry finds that he quite enjoys the version of Willa standing in front of him.

This version wears denim jeans that are tight around the waist and upper thigh, before falling straight until cropping just at her ankles, showcasing her square-toed leather boots. He takes note of the haphazard holes in her trousers, giving Willa’s look a bit more edge than he’s normally accustomed to. Harry thanks the gods above that she’s wearing another top that shows just the perfect amount of cleavage, his eyes falling to the stacked gold necklaces resting on the smooth skin under her long neck.

While Willa appreciates the way Harry’s arms look in his collared work shirt, there’s something about the way he looks in a cable knit jumper that gets her heart racing just a bit quicker than normal. He looks to be the perfect mixture of comfort yet cool, and as her eyes linger on his waist hidden beneath a pair of worn-in denim trousers, she can’t help but be fully aware that she’s been ogling him for far too long.

But when her eyes finally catch his and she takes note of the surprised glint in his irises, she’s not embarrassed at all, because Harry’s also aware that he’s been caught, too.

“Was starting to think you’d bail on me,” Harry finally says, stepping a bit closer to her on the somewhat crowded pavement.

Willa giggles and Harry’s heart almost stills. “Told you I was coming, didn’t I?”

Harry’s starting to think that if he had to banter with her for the rest of his life, he probably wouldn’t mind it at all. In fact, the thought is practically all-consuming at this very moment.

“Well, I’m really glad you’re here.” His voice drops a bit as he takes one last step towards her, brown leather boots touching black. Both Harry and Willa are conscious of the fact that this is the closest they’ve ever been to each other. While Willa has always known Harry to be tall, she’s extremely aware of it now when he’s standing this close to her, leaning forward with his torso so that his neck falls to keep his eyes locked on hers. With this distance (or lack thereof) between them, Harry can smell Willa’s perfume without the overbearing scent of stale ale lingering in the air. He wants to bask in it for as long as he can.

“Me too,” Willa finally responds, reminding herself that she needs to pull herself together if she wants to get through this night without embarrassing herself any further.

Harry seems to sense it too, standing straight and gesturing his head towards the front entrance. “Ready to head in?”

Willa nods. “You wanted to spend your night off at another pub?” She watches the way Harry’s neck falls back as a loud laugh rips through his lungs, and she can’t keep her eyes off of the bob of his Adam’s apple and suddenly, her throat has gone completely dry.

“I’ve seen your local. Figured I’d show you mine,” Harry says, holding the heavy oak door open for her with that dimpled grin of his.

Once Willa’s stepped through the front entrance, she can’t help but take in the drastic difference between Harry’s local and her own. Willa takes in the sticky wooden flooring, chipped from overuse and stained from various liquors ruining the coating. The high-tops lining the walls are no different—antiquated and blemished, some wobbling in the corners, no doubt lacking a distinct charm. The bartop itself is busier than ever, long and sleek. Willa notices the overworked brown-haired barman pulling pints from the tap and heckling other patrons, and she finds almost everybody in this small pub knows each other in some strange way. The atmosphere is vibrant and light, loud and serene, and Willa finds it rightfully so that this is Harry’s local.

Because it’s practically him personified.

Before she can think too much of it, Harry’s long fingers are wrapped around her wrist and he’s dragging her straight to the far corner of the bartop where a small group of people are pulling long gulps from tall pint glasses. Just as they get close enough, Willa’s eyes widen when a few of them call out Harry’s name in heavy Northern accents, and she can’t help but watch the way he interacts with his mates.

They’re clapping his back while Harry appropriately says his hello’s, but before he can get lost in conversation with them, he turns his back towards the group and rests two strong hands on Willa’s shoulders, gripping the heavy material of her coat.

“Here, give me this,” he says softly, peeling off the fabric from her upper body with such intense care that Willa can feel her already dry throat practically barren at this point.

He watches her as he strips the wool from her thin arms, handing it back to her carefully as he rips his own off, before gathering both jackets easily in one hand. Once he tears his eyes off of hers, Harry grasps Willa’s wrist again, dragging her softly towards the far corner past where his friends reside, shouting over towards the brunette barman who’s neck nearly snaps in his direction once he hears Harry’s gruff call.

“Oi! Horan! Take care of these, would ya mate?” Willa watches as Harry rests the arm that isn’t holding their jackets on the bartop, heaving his upper body over the ledge so that the long material in his other hand does not lap up any spilled drink on the counter.

The barman grabs them, before entering a doorway behind him and disappearing into what Willa can only assume to be an office. Harry’s back in front of her now, smiling that toothy grin that makes Willa feel as if she’s completely lost the plot.

“Let’s get you a drink, yeah?” Willa just nods, afraid that if she tried to speak her voice would come out gravelly and hoarse. Harry’s hand slips into hers and he gives it a gentle tug until Willa is standing right beside him, her front resting against the bartop with Harry attached to her right side.

“Who’s this, Harry?” The barman asks once he’s reemerged from the back room in a muffled Irish accent. Willa watches as he gives Harry an amused look under his blue eyes, and she can feel Harry’s gaze shift from her left cheek back to the man in front of her.

“This is Willa.” Harry says her name as if it was something everybody should already know. And judging by the wide look in the barman’s eyes and the way Harry’s cheeks start to flush a rosy color, Willa can only guess that these people do, in fact, know exactly who she is.

And for some reason, that makes her feel all warm and gooey inside.

“Willa! Hiya, doll. ‘M Niall.” Willa smiles at Niall, watching the way the skin around his blue eyes crinkles when he gives her a gleaming grin. His arm is extended out towards hers, flannel shirt rolled up towards his elbows revealing untouched warm skin. When she shakes his hand, she makes sure not to break eye contact, and she watches as Niall gives Harry a look that seems to be laced with approval.

“I’ll take a pint of Fuller’s, mate,” Harry says to Niall before looking down at Willa with a shy look on his face. “Want your usual? Can’t be sure that it’ll taste as good as when I make it, but I’m sure Niall here could give it a go.” There’s no sign of an innuendo laced in Harry’s words, but for some reason, Willa can practically feel the sexul tension grow tenfold when he speaks to her. She shivers a bit, despite the fact that she is quite warm to begin with, before shaking her head and turning her attention towards Niall who is already, undoubtedly, staring at them with a knowing look in his eyes.

“I’ll just have a vodka tonic with lime, please.” Niall nods at her before grabbing a pint glass and heading over towards the taps, leaving Harry and Willa to themselves for a moment.

“What do you think so far?” Harry asks, his body mirroring Willa’s as it rests against the bartop, with nothing but his chin resting on his left shoulder, looking down at her under the curtain of his eyelashes.

Willa just smiles, cocking her chin upwards so that she’s looking right back at him, and Harry feels his lungs constricting for air. “Ask me after a few drinks.”

It’s coy and sultry and sexy, and the thesaurus in Harry’s brain is working overtime, but instead of getting lost in her gaze (something he’s quite positive he could do without really trying), Niall reappears with two drinks in his hand, sliding the clear glass over to Willa first before exchanging the pint for Harry’s credit card to start a tab.

“Cheers, Niall,” Willa says kindly, before taking the straw between her cherry lips and drinking a generous amount. The immediate rush of liquid alleviates the dryness of her throat, and she tries her hardest not to moan at the feeling.

Harry holds his pint up in Niall’s direction in thanks, before resting his right hip and elbow on the wooden countertop in order to face Willa. She mimics his movement, and Harry’s eyes watch every discerning shift of her body, the way her hips sway in her jeans, the way her tight blouse leaves little to the imagination. His eyes shift from her exposed neckline to her jaw, to her full lips, to the slope of her nose. Suddenly he feels parched, and he’s practically draining his beer once his eyes meet hers, watching the way her lips twitch upwards in a tempting smirk.

Before he can force his mouth to form words, a body approaches Harry's left side, and he feels the heavy arm of one of his mate’s wrap around his shoulders, nearly sloshing the beer over the rim of the pint glass. Sadly, he tears his eyes away from Willa.

“Who are you hiding from us, Harry?” He asks. He’s almost the same height as Harry, and when Willa looks at his grin, she can tell that he’s just trying to take the mick out of his friend. Before Harry can introduce her, Willa places her glass on the bartop and extends her hand to the dark-skinned man.

“Hi there. I’m Willa.” Once his larger hand is in Willa’s much smaller one, he glances over at Harry with a gigantic grin. Harry just nods back, his eyes showing nothing but adoration for the blonde-haired girl, and suddenly he’s realizing that his nerves about her meeting his mates were absolutely unnecessary.

Willa Tillerson can hold her own in any environment.

“Ah, Willa. Nice to meet ya, babe. I’m Marcus.” The inflection of her name only causes Willa to give Harry a look, one that’s laced with surprise and maybe a little bit of teasing. Because she’s found it quite endearing that he’s told his friends about her, and while the flush on his cheeks tells Willa that he’s a bit embarrassed by it, the quick wink she shoots in his direction tells him that he’s nothing to be worried about.

“Nice to meet you, too.” Willa takes a long gulp of her drink as Marcus starts talking to Harry about one of their other mutual friends. But before she could be left out for too long (not that she needed the constant attention to begin with), Harry suddenly asks Niall for another round and shifts the conversation to her, telling Marcus about her job and how successful she is at it.

She thinks that’s quite charming, to be fair.

“Wow, you’re working on a mansion in Knightbridge?! Blimey, that’s proper lush. Congrats! Pretty fuckin’ wicked, Willa,” Marcus says, reaching between Harry and Willa and smacking his hand on the bartop to get Niall’s attention. “Oi! Horan! Line up some shots, would ya? Harry’s date here’s earned ‘em!”

Both Harry and Willa try not to flush at the word date. Instead, their eyes meet through their periphery, and Harry’s not quite sure how long he can stay in this bar without pushing her up against the wooden walls and feeling her against every single ridge of his body.

Their eyes fall to the copper liquid in the shot glasses, noticing that Niall has poured a generous amount not only for the three of them, but for the rest of Harry’s mates as well. Willa doesn’t even look at them, though. She barely even acknowledges Niall when he shouts out a cheers! in their direction. No—instead her eyes are locked on Harry’s, taking note of the green and turquoise swirls, the golden sphere around his pupil, the way his eyelashes fan over the tops of his cheekbones, the way he licks his lips in preparation for the bitter liquid about to fall down his esophagus.

Harry’s watching her just as intently. Wonders how in this small space filled with people she’s the only person in his atmosphere. How everybody else has practically vanished at this point. How her hair shines under the shitty pub lighting, how her light blue eyes look like mirrors, how her red lips pucker a bit, her mouth hanging open just slightly so that Harry can see the tip of her tongue.

He can’t imagine looking at anybody else.

She doesn’t even want to think about anybody else.

Suddenly the shot glasses are in their hands, and without breaking eye contact, Willa leans a bit closer so that she doesn’t have to extend her arm too far in order to clink their glasses together. She’s so close that all she has to do is whisper a quiet, “Cheers, Harry,” in his direction, watching him mimic her words before bringing the rim to his lips and swallowing whole.

Harry’s eyes are locked on her lower lip, and he’s watching as her soft tongue darts out between the folds to lap up the whiskey dribble that never made it into her mouth. He shudders, his mind conjuring up any and every inappropriate thought, all filled with ice blue eyes and ruby full lips and her.

He’s not quite sure how he’s going to contain himself. But before he could harp on it much longer, Niall places another round in front of the pair, and Harry’s almost positive that the only thing that will make him calm down is liquor.

Or maybe, it’ll just make everything that much more difficult.

***

After an hour and a half, Harry’s almost positive that he’s going to burst.

He’s watching Willa from a short distance away mingling with the rest of the girls in his friend group. She’s taken to his friends quite easily, and while that’s impressive in its own right, Harry sort of wishes he could spend the entirety of his evening alone with just her.

Harry’s downed enough pints to make him that much more sociable, that much more calm, that much more pliant. But, the drinks have somehow made Willa that much more vivacious, that much more amorous, that much more teasing.

It first started when Marcus’s girlfriend complimented her boots, and somehow dragged her away from the comfort of Harry’s side. Before she could slip away, she made sure to rub her arm against Harry’s, flush her side against his, brush her fingers against his wrist, before slithering a couple feet away. He’s been trying his hardest to pay attention to the conversation going on in front of him, but every couple of passing minutes, he can feel Willa’s warm gaze on his. And whenever he looks over, she’s always staring up at him under her heavy eyelashes, keeping hold of his gaze before slipping the plastic straw between her lips.

Harry’s not sure how much longer he can hold on, to be fair.

With every passing drink that Niall generously places in front of Willa, she’s fully conscious of the fact that she’s turned into an absolute tease. And while she feels bad, she can’t really help herself, considering Harry is looking extremely delicious leaning against the bartop with the sleeves of his jumper pushed up, exposing his strong etched forearms and big hands.

She’s never one to lose her cool, but she can feel herself grappling with her self-control with each lingering gaze Harry leaves her with. Whether it’s on her eyes, or her lips, or her collarbones, or when he brazenly darts down to her chest—she instantly finds herself craving to be alone with him.

Willa’s not sure how much longer she can hold on, to be fair.

Once she realizes her third drink has been emptied, she kindly excuses herself from her conversation with Marcus’s girlfriend and slowly approaches the bartop near Harry and his friends. He notices her approaching just like he notices everything about her, and in a bold move, Willa sneaks by his frame, making sure to rub her front against his side, her hand falling just above his waist, as she excuses herself to get past him in order to reach Niall.

Harry doesn’t even excuse himself from his friends before he turns around and approaches Willa. She’s leaning against the bartop, her backside fully visible to Harry and he takes this moment to appreciate the length of her torso, the plushness of her backside, the reach of her legs. He places both palms on the wood outside of Willa’s forearms, easily wrapping himself around her body, resting his chest against her back. Willa smiles at the warmth, before adjusting her back a bit in order to feel the friction of Harry’s waist against her, noticing in her periphery the way Harry’s knuckles turn white against the edge of the counter.

“You’re killing me, Willa,” Harry whispers roughly into her ear, the tips of his curly locks tickling Willa’s cheeks. Instinctively, Willa tilts her head to the right, exposing more of her neck for Harry, practically moaning at the feeling of his lips so close to her pulse point.

“I could say the same for you,” Willa mutters back, pushing her backside almost completely flush against Harry’s front, and she jumps in surprise when she feels his right arm wrap around her waist.

“Are you suggesting something?” Although he’s whispering, his grainy voice cuts right through Willa’s insides, causing a shiver to run over her entire body. She can feel his words rush straight through her middle, falling lower and lower until they settle in her core, and she’s suddenly both hot and cold all over.

All of a sudden, Willa is spinning around until her back is against the bartop, with her elbows leaning on the edge, her front practically millimeters away from Harry’s. His eyes have grown darker and she’s fully aware of the rising and falling of his chest, and how his gaze has shifted towards her breasts, completely pushed out at this angle, and all she can think about is kissing his mouth.

But before they can, Niall places two more drinks on the countertop behind her. Harry’s hooded eyes snap up to his friend, and Willa takes note of the strained look he shoots in his direction. Niall clearly has bad timing, and while Willa would normally turn around and acknowledge the barman politely, she suddenly has the urge to dismiss all of her morals and forego most of the rules.

Harry fully expects her to turn around at the intrusion, but after Niall walks away and he realizes that Willa is still trapped in between his arms, his eyes dart down to hers and he sees her white teeth biting her plush lower lip, and he’s completely lost all self-control.

Willa runs a long pointer finger down the lines of his chest, and Harry’s eyes watch the path she traces starting from the middle of his pectorals, falling down the tenseness of his abdominal muscles, before settling just above the button of his trousers. Harry’s certain that Willa’s pupils are as dark as his, and when she lightly traces over the zipper of his jeans, a loud groan forms in Harry’s throat and he’s almost positive he’s about to break in half.

“I’m gonna head to the loo,” Willa says, grabbing her drink with the hand that was just tracing a tantalizing path to Harry’s nether region. Her grip on his forearm is a signal for Harry to move out of the way, but he’s suddenly found himself frozen in place. “If you’re up for it, I’ll make sure the door is locked.”

Willa sneaks away before she can take in Harry’s slacked jaw.

He turns around just in time to catch one last look at the undulation of her hips in her tight jeans, and suddenly he’s downing half of the fresh pint in front of him. He ignores the smirk Niall shoots in his direction, ignores his name falling from Marcus’s lips, ignores basically everything in his sight until he’s standing in the far less crowded hallway where the toilets are.

Harry waits until the girl in front of him enters and leaves the loo before he nearly breaks the wooden door down in order to reach Willa. He finds her by the sinks touching up her lipstick, and before he can even check if the coast is clear, she’s pushing him back against the door, flicking the lock with one hand before wrapping it around the back of Harry’s neck and bringing his lips to hers.

It’s as if time stands still, and it’s a bit surprising for both of them considering their minds have constantly been filled with visions of the other person doing exactly this. But as Willa feels Harry’s tongue slither against hers, and Harry feels Willa’s teeth bite at the flesh of his lower lip, and they both feel warm hands grasping at their sides—it’s as if everything makes sense.

Harry snakes his hands around Willa’s waist, leaving one above her hip while the other palms her ass in her trousers. Willa squeals inside Harry’s mouth, before interlocking her arms behind Harry’s neck, crawling her fingers up the back of his head, pushing and pulling at the soft tendrils along the way.

It’s everything and more and Harry feels as if he could finish in his pants, because kissing Willa is the one plaguing thought that’s driven him completely mad for the past two months. And now that it’s finally happening and she’s here in front of him pulling his hair and biting his lip and moaning his name into his own mouth, he feels as if he’s floating through air.

Willa slots her legs in between Harry’s before grinding her hips against his, and the sudden friction causes Harry to pull apart from Willa’s lips and rest his head back against the door, moaning loudly into the ceiling. The sound makes Willa squirm against his front, and she begins to mouth at Harry’s exposed neckline, running her tongue over his throbbing pulse point before sucking harshly on the skin.

Harry’s never been so hungry for a girl ever in his life, and with each lick and bite at his flushed neck, he can feel himself grow harder and harder against his pants. He’s desperate for friction, and once Willa begins lapping at the strip of skin just above the collar of his jumper, he shifts his hips forward so that she can feel him against her clothed core.

The force of the pleasure causes Willa to still against Harry’s neck, and when Harry pushes forward a second time, she can’t help the whimper that falls from her mouth. Once Harry hears it, he wraps his fingers in her blonde hair before bringing her face forward so that he can connect their lips once more.

Willa’s never felt so many things all at once—it’s as if an electrical current has shot straight into her chest, and the only thought she can think of is Harry. He’s moved his hand from her hip to her right breast, and the smooth kneading causes her to grind against Harry again, a breathless fuck falling from her lips into Harry’s mouth.

When they break apart for air, Willa can see her lipstick on Harry’s mouth and it’s enough to send her into a frenzy. Harry notes her blown out pupils, her messy hair, her smudged lips, and it’s as if he’s completely lost all restraint.

Willa’s eyes dart down to Harry’s stifling erection trapped inside his trousers and without even thinking, she begins to palm him through the denim. His forehead falls into the crook of Willa’s neck, and she can feel him heavily panting with each hot breath that scorches her already flaming skin. His muffled moans prompt Willa to pop the button of his jeans, her fingers falling towards the zipper slowly.

Before she can reach under the waistband of his pants, three loud knocks form against the other side of the door, and Willa’s hands immediately fall to her side. Harry’s head lifts from her neck, darting towards the door before falling back to Willa’s eyes.

She calls out a quick “one minute!” before breathing loudly through her front teeth, creating a soft whistle with her frustrated huff. Harry quickly buttons up his jeans before pressing his forehead against Willa’s, sighing breathlessly against her warm skin.

“As much as I like your mates,” Willa starts, “Any chance we can get out of here?”

Harry laughs a bit before nodding, pressing a quick kiss against her forehead. “My flat’s close by.” Willa finds herself nodding, her mind completely clouded over by lust and the fact that she very nearly had Harry’s cock in her hand in the inside of a public toilet in a tiny pub in the middle of Camden.

From the dazed look in Harry’s eyes, Willa can confirm that he feels the same, and all at once he flicks the lock beside them, grabbing Willa and holding her a bit close to his front as they hurriedly rush over to the bar to close his tab, praying her body covers his half-hard erection in his jeans that practically hide nothing.

With the safety of the bartop covering his lower half, Harry calls out to Niall before grabbing a handful of notes from his wallet, throwing them on the wooden top without even double checking the amount. Niall gives both of them a knowing look, taking in their flushed cheeks and unkempt hair, before cackling loudly at the pair.

“You two have fun!” Once they have their jackets, Harry grabs Willa’s hand and leads the way to the front door, not even sparing his friends a second look. He doesn’t even think to put on his trench coat, his body still blistering from wherever Willa’s hands were placed. She feels the same, rushing after Harry wordlessly as he drags them through the busy streets of Camden, racing towards his flat to keep this sexually charged energy-filled bubble from popping.

Before long, they reach an old brick building that looks as if it were once a factory of some sort, but was recently transformed into a modernized apartment building. Willa doesn’t get the chance to observe it much longer, because before she knows it, Harry’s punched in the code to the front door and shoves her into the open elevator door before pressing his lips back to hers.

It’s quick and hurried and somehow completely satisfying every craving itching up Willa’s skin. She’s not even sure what floor he’s clicked or how much time they have left in this confined space, but her fingers are pulling at his chocolate tresses and his hands are gripping her jaw and cupping her cheek and all she can think about is how much she’s been waiting for this moment to finally happen and now that it’s here, she’s kicking herself for waiting this long to feel it.

Harry breaks away once the elevator doors have opened, and with one last peck he’s gripping her waist and shuffling them towards the last door on the right of the short hallway, holding her against the slate grey door before picking up where they left off. Willa’s moaning into his lips and he can feel her clawing at the material of his jumper, and before they can get too carried away, he shoves his key into the lock and thrusts them both into his dark flat.

He flicks a switch on to the right and before Willa can get adjusted to the new light, Harry’s mouth is at her neck and his hands are inching their way up towards her chest, pushing her back against the door and she feels completely lightheaded.

“Harry, fuck. You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this,” Willa says, her head falling back against the heavy door as Harry kisses along every inch of her exposed neck.

“God, been thinkin’ about this for months, Willa. You’ve no clue what you do to me, do you?” He’s speaking against her skin, his lips ghosting over the upper swells of her breasts. The feeling is almost too much, and Willa feels her body arching from the door and pressing her chest closer towards Harry’s mouth, needing every inch of his searing mouth against her skin.

His palm cups over her core above her jeans and she sighs out blissfully. He hasn’t even touched her yet, and Willa feels herself freefalling towards the edge. She’s not sure if it’s because she hasn’t been touched like this in a long time, or if she’s been waiting for this moment with Harry for months now, but she’s completely enraptured by him and all she wants is him inside of her.

“Show me, then.” Willa’s words cause Harry’s lips to pause against her chest. His head shoots up and his eyes meet hers, and Willa watches the smirk work its way against his lips.

“Is that what you want?” His voice is husky and he’s leaning in so closely that the words form over Willa’s swollen lips, and they’re enough to cause the wetness to spread inside her knickers.

Willa grips the back of Harry’s neck tightly, her fingertips ruffling the hair at the base. “I want you. I’ve always wanted you.”

Harry groans before bringing his lips roughly to Willa’s, dragging her away from the front door and leading her into his bedroom. On the way, Willa steps out of her boots, flings her jacket and purse somewhere, not even caring if Harry has a roommate or someone who would be bothered by the noises escaping their mouths.

Harry does the same, and she can sense that even if he did have a roommate, he could give less of a fuck if he or any other neighbor of his could hear what the two of them are doing. They finally reach the entryway of his bedroom, and when they part for air, Willa presses her body tightly against Harry’s and she can feel every inch of pleasure coursing through his veins.

She brings her palms to Harry’s front and begins rubbing him over his jeans, running her fingers along the strained length of his cock hidden under the fabric against his thigh, and the throaty moan that escapes his mouth is the only affirmation she needs to unbutton his pants and pull them down his legs.

Willa falls with them, kneeling on the hardwood floor and bringing her lips to the tip of his cock. She licks a stripe from the base of his shaft all the way up to the tip, making sure to outline the hardened vein on the outside, pulsing against his skin.

Harry shudders, weaving his hands around the back of Willa’s neck and gathering her hair into a messy ponytail to ensure it doesn’t get in the way. He watches as she wraps her mouth around the tip, flattening her tongue against the rest of him as she works her way down, inching herself closer and closer down until he’s practically completely enveloped in her throat.

“Holy fuck. Are you real?” Harry calls out between grunts, and the second she looks up at him through the thick of her eyelashes, he can immediately feel himself careening towards the edge, remembering how he thought of her in this position multiple times.

He pulls at her hair, signalling he needs her to stop deepthroating him. Willa lets him go, the suctioning pop reverberating through the quiet bedroom once he’s no longer in her mouth. She pouts up at him, and the vision along with her sticky lips is enough to cause Harry to roll his eyes behind his head.

“Christ, babe. I don’t know how much longer I’ll last if you keep doing that,” Harry groans, reaching down to pull her up so that she’s back standing in front of him. He pushes a strand of hair that has fallen in front of her face behind her ear, and Willa settles into the open palm of his hand, pressing a gentle kiss to the inside of his wrist. “I’ve been picturing you doing that to me for months. So the fact that it’s actually happening I just—shit. Need a minute.”

Willa smirks before inching her fingers under his jumper, walking them up the ridges of his stomach before settling on his chest. “Yeah? What else have you pictured me doing?”

Harry’s eyes widen at her forwardness and he can practically feel his cock twitch against his stomach. “You really want me to tell you?”

Willa smiles, resting her other hand against Harry’s jaw and bringing it close to her mouth. “I’d rather you show me.”

Harry growls before stepping out of his jeans and pants and walking her backwards to his bed. He pulls his jumper over his head, exposing the warm planes of his skin littered with various tattoos. Willa’s hands immediately trace the outlines, her lips hovering over the matching sparrows under his collarbones causing Harry to moan loudly.

“You’re far too overdressed,” Harry mumbles against her lips, reaching forward and pulling her shirt over her head, her breasts hidden under a nude lace underwire bra. Harry’s eyes fall towards her chest, before following the lines of her stomach until his hands begin hovering over the buttons of her jeans.

“Please tell me whatever’s under here will match,” Harry says, his mind completely stupefied at the sight of her half-naked in front of him.

“Why don’t you pull those down and find out?” Willa’s words cause Harry to whimper, and before she can even blink, Harry has pried her legs from her jeans, his mouth watering at the sight of her see-through matching knickers.

“You’re fucking incredible,” Harry says, taking a step back and watching the way she looks splayed out over his duvet. He’s completely hooked on her, one hundred and fifty percent fucked by the way her hair falls over his pillows, the way her chest puffs out against her bra, the way her long legs fall from the ends of her knickers.

He’s in awe.

Willa looks up at him in that way that makes his mind fall to mush, and with a quiet “c’mere,” he’s completely hers.

She brings her mouth back to his and his hands instantly fall to her back to unclip her bra. Her hands fall to his backside, pressing him against her clothed core, begging for friction. She moans when Harry’s lips fall to her chest, before wrapping his mouth around one of her nipples, lapping his tongue against the pilled bud, causing Willa to lift her back completely off the mattress.

His hands graze over her core, cupping her heat as his mouth moves to her other breast. She feels him push the lace fabric of her underwear to the side, before slipping his middle finger into her wet folds. She’s a writhing mess underneath him, and as much as she loves the touching and kissing and kneading, she needs more.

“Harry,” Willa gasps, her own palm sliding up and down his shaft, causing him to groan against her chest. “I need you to fuck me.”

He stills, looking up at her through clouded eyes. “Yeah?”

Her hand squeezes a little harder around him, and she pushes her body upwards to graze against his, watching the way his eyes shut tight in pleasure. “Please.”

He nods, reaching over into his bedside table for a condom, leaning over her again and ridding her of the last layer of clothing between them until they’re both flushed skin against flushed skin. His eyes scan her body, and when he looks at her, she can practically feel the devotion falling from his gaze.

“Are you sure? Can’t guarantee I’ll last long,” He admits, and as much as Willa appreciates his affable claim, she really just needs him inside of her. Without speaking, she grabs the condom from his hand and rips the foil open with her teeth, before sliding it down the length of his cock.

“I’ve never been more sure. Show me what you fantasize, Harry. I’m here.” That’s all Harry needs before he’s lined up at her entrance, slowly sliding into her warmth.

He makes sure to take his time, allowing Willa to get adjusted to the feeling of his length inside of her. It takes her a moment, but once Harry’s almost three-fourths of the way inside, the pinching feeling suddenly fades into something almost euphoric, and instantly her hand reaches out to grip Harry’s wrist by her head.

“More, Harry. I need more.” He groans into her neck, sliding out of her almost completely, before pushing all the way inside, bottoming out with one loud cacophonous groan.

He gathers his rhythm quickly after that, and when Willa wraps one hand around his glistening bicep and the other pulls at the curls at the base of his neck, he reaches down to lift her ankle over his shoulder, the other hand kneading her breast and his mouth latches against her own.

The new angle allows Harry to reach that plushy spot along Willa’s walls, forcing her back to arch off the mattress and her fingernails to dig into the skin around Harry’s bicep. “Oh my god, Harry. Yes. Right there.”

“Fuck Willa, you feel so good. Love when you say my name,” Harry says against her mouth, his teeth clacking against hers, tongue sliding in to taste every inch of her.

“Harry!” Willa calls out through a moan when he lifts her leg higher into the air, causing him to reach deeper inside of her than ever before. He’s nothing but a narcissist, and the sound of his name crying out of Willa’s lips is enough to cause his movements to falter a bit, his release coming far quicker than he imagined.

“Shit, babe. I’m close,” Harry says against her neck, his eyes fall towards her navel where he can see the tip of his cock push inside of her. The vision is enough to cause him to spiral down down down, but he needs to make sure Willa is close too before he completely falls into the abyss.

“Me too, Harry—fuck! Me too,” Willa squeaks. The fingers resting against Willa’s chin inch their way towards her mouth, and instinctively, Willa wraps her mouth around them, sucking deliberately while watching the way Harry’s mouth parts in wonderment.

He reaches down to circle against her clit with his wet fingers, and after a few more timed pumps inside of her, Willa’s crying out against his skin, her fingernails digging harshly into his bicep. Harry likes the pain, and that coupled with the sounds falling from Willa’s mouth is enough to push him towards his release.

He languidly pumps slowly in and out of her until her body has grown limp underneath him. Slowly, he pulls out of her, and Willa immediately frowns at the warmth dissipating from her insides. Harry rolls onto his back beside her, discarding the condom in the bin near his bedside table and trying his hardest to catch his breath.

“That was—”

“—Yeah.”

Willa’s giggling softly beside him, and the sound is enough to cause Harry to smile widely, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and bringing her to rest comfortably against his chest. Their skin is sticky from exertion, and Willa’s hair is knotted from Harry’s hands pulling through the tendrils, and Harry’s arms feel bruised from Willa’s fingers, but they wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Can’t believe it took us that long,” Willa says against his chest, causing Harry to laugh loudly from above her.

“Yeah, we fucked up a bit on that one, I reckon,” Harry says back, combing his fingers through her long blonde hair. Willa hums at the comforting feeling, and she reciprocates the same, running her fingers lightly over the moth tattoo under his chest calmingly.

Maybe it was the alcohol she consumed this evening, or maybe it was the fatigue to her body from what her and Harry just did, or just maybe it was the fact that she had never felt more comfortable wrapped up in another person’s embrace, but almost instantly, Willa finds herself falling asleep, her soft breathing pattern lulling Harry into the same comfortable darkness.

***

It’s the absence of warmth that causes Harry to wake in the middle of the night. He looks over to where he remembers feeling Willa sleeping against him, and finds that his bed is empty. The only reminder of her ever being in his bed is the crinkled sheets and the overwhelming smell of her shampoo on his pillowcase.

His eyes dart over towards the clock on his bedside table informing him that it’s nearly five in the morning. He looks around a bit to see if she’s crept into the en-suite attached to his bedroom, but he finds the light off and no sign of movement inside.

Harry’s a bit bummed, to be fair. Although Willa never explicitly told him that she’d stay, he never would have pegged her to pull a runner in the middle of the night. Especially after the mindblowing sex they shared.

Or was it just mediocre for her? Harry thinks, silently cursing himself for underperforming in any form. He can’t really blame himself. He’s been imagining Willa doing the unspeakable acts she performed on him a few hours ago for months now, so he can’t really blame himself for finishing quickly.

Before he can mull over any other scenarios, the sound of bare feet padding against hardwood flooring causes Harry’s eyes to scan over the hallway. Willa approaches silently, tip-toeing into his bedroom wearing nothing but Harry’s discarded white undershirt, falling against the middle of her thighs. Her hands are deep inside a box of Golden Grahams, and the sight is enough to cause Harry’s heart to thump loudly in his chest, relief rushing through his veins.

He starts laughing, and immediately Willa locks her eyes on him, her chewing abruptly stopping. She swallows harshly before speaking. “I didn’t mean to wake you! I was just, er, hungry.” Willa holds up the cereal box slightly, and Harry just beckons her over with his outstretched hand.

“You gonna share?” Harry asks teasingly, and his just-woken-up thick voice is enough to cause her lower stomach to warm significantly in pleasure.

Willa giggles quietly while treading over to the bed, squeaking when Harry’s arms wrap around her waist and she crashes into his lap, her legs slithering around his waist comfortably with the cereal box in between them.

He reaches his hand in and scoops out a large mouthful, before tipping the open box in her direction and allowing her to do the same. She’s smiling through her chews, watching the way Harry’s jaw works through crushing the cereal bits before his Adam’s apple bobs with each swallow.

Suddenly, Willa isn’t hungry for cereal anymore. She places the box on the ground near the bed, before wrapping her legs tighter around Harry’s waist, settling herself lightly on Harry’s lap. His hands wrap around her backside, his fingers squeezing the soft skin underneath her thighs, causing her to ground down a bit more against his hips.

“I don’t think I’m hungry anymore,” Willa says quietly, her hands falling comfortably around Harry’s shoulders. She watches his lips form that crooked grin that makes her smile right back at him, and slowly his mouth starts to lean towards hers.

“Good, because I’m thinking there’s other things we can be doing,” Harry says against her lips, before pushing her closer to his half-hard bulge and licking his way into her mouth, groaning at the sugary flavor residing on her tongue.

“Yeah? What’s that?” Willa’s teasing and Harry’s come to the conclusion that he quite enjoys her this way. Without answering, Harry reaches for the hem of his shirt and pushes it over her head, discarding it aimlessly on his floor.

“Whatever you want to do, Willa,” Harry says earnestly, noting the way her eyes twinkle in the moonlight falling through his window. She’s beautiful, and he suddenly realizes that his statement was true.

He’d do anything she wanted, as long as she keeps looking at him the way she is at this very moment.

Willa somehow knows how he feels without him needing to express words. She can see it in his eyes, the same ones that have looked at her for months through the crowded bar. And now that they’re in front of her, staring at her with nothing but adoration and fondness, she’s almost positive there’s no other place she’d rather be.

“I just want you,” she whispers, closing the space between them with a kiss, meaning every word.

[purplekiwis]

Summary: The story of a hopelessly romantic saloon girl, her long lost lover and very stubborn horse.

Genre: Wild West AU | Different Time Period | Forbidden Love

Prompt: “you’re really cute when you start rambling like that”

Warnings: Smut, cursing and cowboy rowdy behaviour 🤠  

Wordcount: 28K (total) 17K (this part)

P.S: This story goes a bit back and forth at the beggining, so mind the dates and locations as you read, otherwise it might get a bit confusing.

You can read part 1 here

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It was nearing 8pm when Bathilda was startled by a knocking on her door.

In a jump, the large woman got up from the kitchen chair, where she had been sitting petting her cat, Jack, and rushed to pick up the rifle that she kept hidden under her bed. Whoever had the audacity to come knocking on her door this late at night, couldn’t be up to no good, she figured.

On her tippy toes, the woman reluctantly moved towards the door with her gun pressed against her shoulder, ready to shoot the intruder that she had already assumed to be a robber or an attacker.

“Please, don’t shoot.” A whimpery voice pleaded once the door flang open. A girl stood there, with full blown eyes and her hands held up in the air. “It’s just me, Valerie.”

“For goodness sake.” Bathilda immediately put down the gun once she recognized the sad-faced girl standing on her porch. “What are you coming here for at this hour, child?” Once Valerie got past the fact that there wasn’t a shotgun barrel pointed at her nose anymore, she noticed Bathilda’s unnusually disheveled figure. Her thick, red hair that was usually fixed into a unblemished updo, fell over her shoulders and chest like a pair of curtains. She wore a simple white nightgown and on her shoulders was wrapped a large blanket. Her eyes looked drowsy and the corners of her mouth curved into a frown, signaling that she was very unappeased about the surprise visit.

“I left my dad’s house.” The girl confessed with droopy shoulders. “I tried to stay at auntie’s but she sent me away. Said she had no room for me.” A peeved breath left the woman’s mouth once her eyes dropped down to the luggage sitting at Valerie’s feet. The sheepheaded girl had came here looking for shelter, she realized. “I have nowhere to go.” Valerie reinforced her urgency.

With a sigh, Bathilda stepped aside. “Come inside, will you?”

The room was dark, the only illumination being provided by a pair of melting candles sitting in the middle of the small table and the gentle fire burning in the fireplace. There were pots and pans hung from the ceiling, over the counters and the bigger ones stacked on the corner of the room. On the shelves, could be seen some condiments, cans, crockery pieces and cutlery. Immediately, as she stepped inside the room, Valerie felt the warmth and heard the sizzling of a pot boiling. “I was making tea.” The unmistakable smell reached her nostrils. Lemongrass. Her mom’s favorite.

“Sit down and tell me what happened.” The woman urged, rushing to pick up the cattle as Valerie sat down in one of the three small stools laying around the square table. She placed a tray right in front of Valerie, with two mismatched tea cups, spoons and a half-full flask of sugar cubes.

“Thank you.” The girl sputtered awkwardly as she watched Bathilda pour down the scalding liquid, that tampered the cups with a soft shade of yellow. She blindly picked out the beige colored cup and noticing a crack near it’s ear, she ran her finger over it a couple of times, as she remenisced the events of that day.

"I got into an argument with my father.” Valerie confessed, gaze turning agitated as she peered at the ambar sillhouette that was the face of the woman sitting beside her. “He wants me to get wed to the son of one of his consorts, but I refused. Said I wasn't going to marry a man I’m not in love with.” She took a shaky sip of her tea. “I told him… that I let Harry take my purity.” Her hands trembled slightly. “He… he slapped me.”

Bathilda snorted a laugh. “I’m surprised to find you in such good shape. Had it been my father, you wouldn’t have lived to tell the tale.”

“They told me he’s dead…” the distressed girl murmured under her breath. “But I don’t believe it."

“Valerie, Valerie, Valerie…” The woman buried her face in her hands, drained by her attendant’s senselessness. “I wonder what bloody spell that man’s got you under, acting like this…”

The girl looked down at her tea, trying to hide the tears that were beggining to pool under her eyelashes. “He’s the best man I’ve ever known.” She whimpered, voice muffled due to her sorrowing state.

“He’s an outlaw,” Bathilda stated flatly. “What good would it do to wait on a man whose fate is already sealed? Either dead… or doomed.” She stirred her tea slowly. “He set his path the moment he decided to rob that train.”

“I’m sure he had a good reason for what he did,” Valerie murmured, her voice wavering as she tried - and failed - to feel certain.

What reasons could possibly compel a kind man like Harry to commit such a crime? She had wondered many times. Sure, he was ambitious and hungry for more, but he wouldn’t really get his hands dirty over something as petty as greed or selfishness, would he?

“Dead or alive, he’s not coming back. I can tell you that much.” Bathilda affirmed, assuredly.

“So tell me,” Valerie pleaded. “How does someone mourn the loss of a person they can’t bring themselves to believe is really gone?”

“I’m a businesswoman—you don’t want advice from me,” Bathilda dismissed the topic. “Especially when it comes to matters of the heart.” Her gaze returned to the heartbroken girl. At first, she looked nothing but annoyed by the tears, yet beneath the frown, a quiet mercy lingered. “I think you’d do well to listen to your father’s advice.”

“And marry a man I don’t even know?” the girl protested.

Valerie didn’t mean to sound ungrateful or skeptical. She knew that most handsome men, like Otis, would likely turn a blind eye to a girl like her. After all, she wasn’t only considered a woman of questionable reputation - she was also thought past the age for marriage and children.

“Mr. Montgomery is cold and starchy,” she admitted. A man like him probably had little time to look for a partner, which was likely why he had settled for a simple girl who could care for his house, attend to his needs, and make his evenings a little less lonely. “I don’t think he could ever make me feel happy the way Harry did.”

“Marriages are like the lottery Valerie. Sometimes you win... most times you don’t.”

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Gravefort, Texas. 10th of July 1886

Ever since their brief encounter at the rodeo, everytime Valerie pictured Harry working on the grange during her daydreams, she would always imagine him riding on horseback, long hair floating behind him as he took the horses out for a ride around the farmsted, feeding them or perhaps even a giving them a nice grooming.

So, naturally, she found it to be intriguing, even humorous that out of all things, the one time she got to catch a glimpse of him on her way to the post office, he was doing some light maintenance keeping around the fields. In other words, shoveling from a large pile of cow manure.

She thought it to be entertaining. That the boy cheerfully sang and whistled to folklore songs as he worked, that the muscles on his arms flexed with each dig and pull, that the beads of sweat running down his forehead and chest were glistening under the ruthless western sun.

After brief seconds of mindful peering, she opted not to bother him with her curiosity... but on her way back from the post office, when she found him on the exact same spot, she couldn’t fight the temptation to approach him. Making no effort to announce her presence, she walked over and bent her arms over the tall fence, resting her chin over her forearms. She silently stood, watching and hearing him hum his way around ‘Root Hog, or Die’ as he mindlessly scooped away. “I thought you worked with horses.” Valerie baited, at last.

Harry couldn’t stop himself from shaking a little in his boots once he lifted up his head and saw the girl staring back at him. “Miss Valerie!” He sputtered, accidentally dropping his shovel on his own foot with the surprise. “Blimey…” His cheeks grew scarlett as he bent down to pick it up. “What uh…” He mumbled, smiling and scratching the back of his hair at his clumsiness. “What brings you around these parts today?”

It was Valerie’s turn to blush now. “Oh! I just… Had to go and… deliver mail for my dad.” She wasn’t lying, but it surely wasn’t the small package inside her apron that had her eagerly walking to the post office on a torrid Saturday afternoon.

Casually, Harry looked around the grange. “Is your dad awaiting your arrival?” He dared to ask, noticing none of his honchos were in sight.

“Oh! No. He always goes for dinner at my aunt’s on Saturdays…” Valerie answered absentmindedly. “I never quite understood why… her cooking is atrocious.”

Harry simpered at her aimless revelation. “On that case, may I stall you for a couple of minutes?” With a little help from his boot, he burried the blade of the shovel on the dried up soil and attempted to clean the dirt off his hands with the fabric of his trousers. Valerie seemed reluctant, so he figured it was best to clarify his intentions. “It’s just that, uh, one of our nannies gave birth yesterday. The kids are an absolute wonder… I thought that maybe you would like to see them…”

Valerie bit her lip as she dwelled over the propositon. Like most people, she had a soft spot for baby anything, and just thinking about the baby goats playfully bumping heads and jumping over eachother was making her heart swell, but she was also understandably apprehensive to venture down an unfamiliar farm with a young man that she barely knew. “I can assure you that I have no intention of causing you any harm, but in case you find it more appropriate, I can go pick one up and bring it here so that you can pet it.”

Harry’s voice sounded soft and sweet as morning dew in Valerie’s ears, and there was something about his true gaze that was making it hard for her not to trust him with her whole heart. “No, that won’t be necessary.” She simpered. “I’ll walk with you, Harry.”

The young cowboy was beaming from ear to ear as he helped Valerie up the wood picket fence like a gentleman, being extra careful to make sure her dress didn’t get caught up in any of the wood splinters. He was also extremely respectful as he ushered her around the farmstead, keeping a cordial distance as both his hands behind his back as they walked and side by side.

Valerie liked Harry. He was gentle, charming, unpretentious… And a little clumsy. Which Valerie didn’t mind one bit, matter of fact, it made her smile in a giddy way. Plus, conversation flew easily between them, just as if they had known each other for years. They started by talking about Harry’s life back at Horse’s Road, and somehow that escalated to Valerie’s childhood pet chicken and Harry’s harrowing experience with a family of geese. As the conversation grew thicker, the distance between their bodies grew thinner, and by the time they arrived to the goat barn, their upper arms were softly brushing against each other’s.

“Oh my word, look at them!” Valerie exclaimed with adoration as soon as her eyes landed on the three black and white pygmy babies. The trio gathered around it’s mother, skirmishing under her body to try to get a feeding. “Harry, they’re adorable!” She gasped, dropping over the hay and sitting on her knees.

“I knew you would like them.” Harry facetiously boasted. His side leant against the doorway and his hands were shoved in his pockets as he rejoiced on the view of Valerie unsuccessfully trying to get the attention of the pygmies. But once he noticed the beautiful girl moping from disappointment he decided it was his time to step up. “Alright. Come here, little buddy.” He jeered, skillfully picking up one of the goats.

It bleated a little once it got dragged from it’s mother, but as soon as Harry’s arms securely wrapped around it’s body, the soft creature relaxed into his hold. “I always forget how warm they are…” Harry nuzzled his face against the baby’s fur as he lulled it in his arms. Valerie awed at the sight, this man was too good to be true.

She lifted herself up, patting the hay pieces away from the bottom of her dress before she walked over to where Harry was, a couple of steps ahead. “They’re so soft…” Valerie observed as she repeatedly ran her fingers through the hair on the goat’s head.  

“Would you like to try holding it?” He inquired once Valerie began snuggling the small lamb’s head and snout with a little more confidence.

“I’m scared I’ll drop it…” She confessed, but Harry knew that her concearns had no reason to be.

“Nonsense, Cherry. They’re as light as a feather.” Without giving her any more space for doubting, he took a step closer and carefully transfered the kid onto her waiting arms. She instinctively held it in the right position, however a little loosely, causing it to start jumping and wiggling in her arms. “Squeeze it a bit tighter. He’ll like it... Makes ‘em feel protected.” The cowboy instructed, getting a bit closer and gently adjusting Valerie’s forearms for her, guessing that she was just nervous about hurting the delicate creature.

She followed his orientation, noticing the change in the animal’s behavior straight away. “I can feel it’s heart beating…” She choked out, a little breathless due to the excitement she was feeling. “He’s so fuzzy… Like a little cotton ball.”

“Fuzzy, heh?” Harry replicated the word. “I quite like that name. I think it suits him.”

“Is he trying to bite me?” Valerie asked once the goat stuck it’s tongue out and began licking her hand and wrist as she delicately scratched the place under it’s ears.

Mostly for precaution, Harry picked it up from her arms again. “No, I think he likes you…” He pointed out with a smirk, before he held the baby higher up against his chest. “You fancy miss Bluebell, don’t you? You nutty goat…” Harry kept playfully scraping the billy’s chin as placed the question. “Ha… I see…” He joked once he realized the billy’s tongue was still actively chasing Valerie’s hand, that she was teasingly holding above it’s head. “You and me might have a bit of a problem then, buddy, ‘cause you see, I fancy miss Bluebell as well.”

Valerie’s chest convulsed a little with surprise at his confession, and once Harry noticed her startled state, he immediately put down the goat. Guilt took over his features. “Pardon my behavior, miss...” He apologized, suddently feeling unreasonable for allowing such gutsy words to escape past his lips. “I know you probably take me as a lovesick fool but I…” Harry gingerly shook his head, amused at his own words. “From the moment that I saw you, I haven’t stopped thinking about making you mine… And quite frankly, I don’t think I ever will.”

Valerie’s insides felt like they were floating. The feeling reminding her of the very first time she felt her ribs getting squeezed inside a corset, many years ago. “Mr. Styles, what if…” The rest of the sentence got caught up in her throat for a short moment. “For imprudent reasons unknown to me I wished for you to kiss me now?”

Harry’s eyes widened with surprise at her request. “Miss Bluebell, I...” He struttered, still unsure if he’d heard her correctly or if the words that came out of her succulent, sunset colored mouth were a mere product of his imagination. “I’ve been out in the heat all morning so I’m a bit whiffy…” Harry cautioned, but Valerie seemed unphazed by his statement. “But if you don’t mind it, then it would be an absolute honour to...”

“I don’t mind it.” The girl admitted, nervously fiddling with the lace in the edge of her apron. Harry politely removed the hat of his head and ran his fingers through his hair before slowly looming up towards her nervous body. Smiling softly when Valerie let out a whimper at the feeling of his rough knuckles caressing the skin from the apple of her cheek alone.

Valerie’s chest was heaving with desire. Eyes pressed shut and head tilting back against Harry’s hand. “Everytime I look at you, Miss Bluebell, I feel like I’m staring in the face of an angel.” Harry confessed against the flesh of her opposite cheek, placing slow and tentative kisses over it as he spoke. Her eyes darted to his unhurriedly approaching lips at the compliment.

“What was it that you called me earlier? when you handed me the goat...” Due to the closeness, she couldn’t see the look on his face, but she could still conceave one of the corners of his mouth lifting at her odd question.

“Cherry?” His single worded question was a nothing but a breath in her jawline. “Did you fancy it?”

“Deeply.” The girl nodded, and with one last timid kiss to her chin, Harry tilted his head to the side just so their mouths would brush softly. Judging by the way her body was reacting to his harmless touching, he could tell this was her first time getting so intimate with someone.

So, despite his eagerness to smack their mouths together, Harry decided to take his time with her... Slowly molding his rosy lips on hers and placing soft pecks over her top lip. In the midst of their gentle kissing, The cowboy gave a step forth, eager to get closer... What unfortunantly led him to, not so delicately, trip over a forgotten watering can, plummeting forwards over the large pile of hay and consequently taking Valerie down with him.

“Shit. Are you alright, miss?” The flustered boy fretted, face reddening as he hurried to pull himself away, at the realization that Valerie was suggestively positioned under him. Instead of answering his question, she decided to save him the embarassment and swiftly connected her lips to his again. Harry was quick to carry on where he’d left off, fondling up her face with sweet and tender kisses that had her giggling and whimpering into his hold.

Never in his wildest dreams, had the boy imagined he would enjoy that much having such a tempting girl laying down over hay for him to love in such a innocent way.

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Gravefort, Texas. 18th of April, 1892

It was a particular stormy night in Gravefort.

Tall and wide clouds aligned in the horizon and torrential rain showered steadily over the soil, flooding the village’s deserted paths. However, two reckless fiends had dared wondering around the the muddy, slippery shortcut roads that led to the village center.

Loud thumps and heavy splatters echoed through the seeming ghost town as they made their way down the road. A lightening bolt stroke against the inky, redish sky, illuminating the way for little over a second before the ambience fell back into pitch darkness. 

“We made it.” The brown haired man sighed once his eyes began to discern the lit up windows of one of the few Gravefort’s estabelishments still open late in the evening. He simpered, tilting his head down and running his fingers through the soaked fur of his horse’s neck. “We’re home, Kiwi.”

The outlaw had just finished settling down his horse at the Saloon’s corral when he began to perceive the familiar sound of trotting hooves and wooden wheels moving towards the gate, where he stood. “Fuck…” He hissed, giving one last reassuring look towards Kiwi before rushing to sneak his way around the building, walking past the swinging doors of the Saloon before anyone could spot him.

“Howdy, sir.” The receptionist happily greeted once he spotted the late costumer walking inside from the corner of his eye.

Harry wondered if the locals would even recognize him now that his clothes looked better, his chest was broader and the untamed strands that used to fall down the sides of his face had been cut into shorter, fluffier curls that were currently soaked and plastered over his forehead in a bowlcut like shape. His internal question was answered as soon as the recepcionist’s gaze met the man’s standing before him. “Nightingale?!” Armand mumbled astonishingly, his jaw going slack and the shade of his skintone paling as if he’d seen a ghost. “You’re alive?”

The calling of that name made a couple of curious heads tilt in their direction, but they turned back around fast enough to make Harry feel grateful that his lover happened to work in a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ sort of place. “Jeez, it’s nice to see you too Armand…” Harry ironized, cordially lifting his hat from his head and placing it back smoothly before beginning to walk past the reception, aiming for the dance hall.

“Not so fast.” Armand called out, causing the cowboy to stop in his tracks and turn his body around to face the scrawny looking, still slightly aghast, redheaded young man with a startled look in his eye. Maybe Harry had misjudged his intentions on letting him off free a little too soon. Armand cleared his throat sternly. “Gun’s out.” He declared, pointing to the multiple wood signs pending above the reception counter, where it could be read in messy white paint strokes ‘No guns allowed’ and ‘Please leave your guns here’.

“Are you serious?” Harry scorned, exhaling through his mouth as he paced back to the front of the counter with a dismayed, yet slightly humorous smirk plastered onto his face.

“Sorry…” Armand fruitlessly apologized as he watched Harry pull out the revolver from his gun belt and resentfully slap it on top of the counter. “Bathilda’s new rules.” The receptionist added as he collected it, handing Harry a token in exchange for the weapon.

“Can I go in now?” The cowboy asked, clearing his throat and taking a stealthly peek at the receptionist through to the top of his lashes, only to be met with his suspicious, unyielding gaze. “Alright, fine.” He exhaled loudly, begrudgingly rolling up his trousers and removing the two pistols he always warded off to from his ankle holsters. “Happy?”

“Nothing else in there?” Armand pushed, as he carefully snugged the pistols next to the revolver inside one of the compartments hidden under the counter.

“Not a thing.” Harry rebuffed, lifting up his arms above his waist and spinning around mockingly. “I don’t think I’ve felt this naked in a long time...” The outlaw admitted, patting at the oddly weightless belt strapped around his hips. “Okay. What now?” He asked as he noticed Armand peeking down from behind the counter. 

“What’s that in your pocket?” The receptionist asked with a inquiring nod of his head towards the hump inside Harry’s compressed pocket.

“For fuck’s sake…” He complained, glancing down at himself. “Is it a crime for a bloke to be a little excited to see his girl, now?”

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Harry immediately spots Valerie in her usual spot.

Standing next Bill “Wobbly Knuckles”, attentitively watching him play the piano, like she always did when she wasn’t performing or getting screamed at by Bathilda to act a little more like a soiled dove to get the costumers to buy her a whiskey drink. (She had once let Harry in on the secret that what was served to the girls was just cooled down tea. Not only because it was cheaper, but also to prevent them from getting too drunk to work. Looking at the brown liquid, no one could ever tell the difference, therefore Bathilda always charged them at whiskey price and left the men to wonder how it was that her girls could handle their liquor better than sailors.)

Harry leaned against one of the wooden pillars observing Valerie for a while. She looked as beautiful as he remembered… even more beautiful, if anything. He discerned all the small details of her profile, the ones he’d partially forgotten with the passing of time… Like the small beauty mark on the apple of her cheek. Speaking of which, there were a few new lines traced on her face. Barely perceptive when compared to the deeper, rougher looking ones set between the crease of Harry’s eyebrows and the sides of his lips.

“Valerie!” A girl he recognized, but couldn’t remember the name of came running through the front door, holding up the frills of her long skirt with a slighly tottering blonde alongside her, prompting his lover to tilt her head urgently at them. “You need to come see this! It’s, it’s him.” The girl sounded aghast, a little spooked even. “I saw it with my own eyes. It’s Kiwi, Valerie... At the Saloon’s corral! I think The Nightingale’s back in town.” With a angry expression, Valerie got up from her seat in order to face the two startled twits standing by the front door, already guessing that they were either making fun of her or wrong...

But then she spotted him.

Her eyes unfurled in awe as she stared at the tall, stunning looking man before her. “Harry...?” Her mouth fell open, jaw twitching slightly as she hummed questioningly under her breath. She knew it was him. His boyish smile was the same. His brown curls, although shorter, fell in similar branches. The bridge of his nose was scalded in the same spot it was the last time she’d seen him years ago. There was no doubt in her mind, this was her Harry. The only difference being that where once stood a youthful boy, was now standing a tainted, illegitimate man.

Harry’s lips twisted into a canny smile as he walked down the steps in front of him, in order to approach the woman he still believed to be his wife-to-be. “God, how I missed you,” He breathed out, truthfully. “My beautiful Ch...shit!” He cursed, barely dodging the glass bottle that came flying directly at his head. A few whistles from the costumers were heard once the one sided confront erupted between the two long lost lovers.

“Valerie, darling…” The cowboy babbled in shock. It wasn’t that he wasn’t already predicting that Valerie wouldn’t be thrilled to see him first thing, but he was far from guessing that his sweet, delicate flower’s first reaction would be to try and beat the tard out of him. Well, one thing he knew for sure, this wasn’t exactly the type of heated reencounter he had imagined in his head.

“How dare you?” Valerie’s face contorted in utter rage. Face and chest redder than Harry had ever seen them. “How dare you show up here after six years?!” She picked a jar from the table closer to her and yanked it at him at full force. Harry dodged it again, by swiftly bending down over his knees.

“Cherry, I swear I didn’t mean to stay away for this long, it jus-” Harry tried to justify himself, but Valerie couldn’t listen him, blinded by all the mixed emotions she was feeling. “Don’t call me that!” She interrupted, struggling to speak as she picked up a large object sitting in the corner of the room. She held it up in front of her chest with difficulty, trying to aim at her nervously moving target.

“Darling, please… You know you don’t want to do that.” He tried to appeal to her rational side, barely having any time to finish his sentence before being forced to shield behind the pillar he had been leaning against moments before, to avoid what would surely be a painful strike, judging by noise the object made as it smashed against the column, sending splinters of wood all over the place. “Valerie, sweetheart, you need to calm down...” Valerie’s ex lover stressed, cautiously peeking at his girl from behind the pillar. “We can talk about it, yeah?”

His words seemed to only end up adding more salt to Valerie’s wound. “Talk?” The girl scoffed with disdain. “So now, you want to talk?” She questioned as she dragged a stool from under the table. “Fine, then... Let’s talk.” Both of them kept pacing around the room in circles as they spoke, Valerie trying to find the perfect throwing angle and Harry consequently trying to find the better shielding spot. “Six years you’ve left me lost at sea.” Valerie screamed out her lungs. “No telegram!” There goes the stool, “No mail!” There goes a flying vase, “Not even a bloody postcard!” And there goes a full bottle of Port wine, all smashed against wooden structure Harry was hiding behind of. “For Christ’s sake! Just let me hit you!” The girl pleaded with annoyance.

“Okay, fine! I’ll let you hit me.” Harry agreed at last, stepping out from behind the pillar and throwing his hands up in surrender. “Under the condition you listen to me after.”

Valerie took her tongue to her cheek. She didn’t want to look at him, let alone listen to his empty promises and half-assed excuses. However, she was also curious to know how far he was willing to go with this, and that’s why she decided to put down the bottle she was holding in favor of picking up a considerably larger object instead. Another stool. She held it abover her head and aimed it at his head, watching Harry push his eyes shut to stop his reflexes from attempting to prevent the oncoming agression.

A couple of moments went by where nothing happened, leaving Harry wondering if she was still mustering up the courage to crack his skull open (which he doubted, at that point) or if she was just taking pleasure in watching his deplorable figure, squirming in fear of what was to come. “God, woman! Just do it, already!” The boy flinched, pressing his lips and eyes together in harsh lines as a way of trying to brace himself for the blow. It never came though, at least not in his direction. Instead, he heard the stool land on a different side of the room, fracturing two of it’s legs apart.

“I don’t want to listen to you, and I never want to see your face again!” Valerie cried out, once their eyes met again, turning her back to him and rushing inside the dressing room, looking for a place to hide. Recklessly, Harry decided to ignore her outcry for distance and followed her all the way inside room, repeatedly calling her name and pleading for her to just listen to him. All amidst his justifications that he only did it because “Cattle work isn’t what it used to be, love.” and “The Wild West days are over. People aren’t investing in cattle the way they used to anymore.” until she had no choice but to turn around and face him.

Her eyes bursted into tears, face contorted in a mixture of rage and sadness. “Do you have any idea how it felt to go to sleep every night wondering if you were dead or alive -- for six years?!”

It was a rhetoric question, but the look in her eyes was telling Harry that she was still waiting for an answer, and unfortunantly he had no idea of how to properly respond to her pointy accusation.

Impulsively, the cowboy cupped her face in his hands. Crashing his lips into hers like he used to do anytime she got mad at him for acting up on the nights he drank too much, or for being a little too honest with his opinions about her dad. Only this time, the issue wasn’t nearly that minor, and his bold move, despite causing the escape of a delicious whimper from the girl’s mouth, came off as senseless and even a little insulting to her. And that’s why, when she finally managed to come to her senses, she clapped her hands on his chest and pushed him away. “Keep your hands off me!” She shouted. “I’m engaged!”

“Yeah, I know…” Harry chucked, lips parting into a confused smile.

“No, Harry.” Valerie waved her hand in front of his face, where a golden braided ring laid around her finger, with a mesmerizing green rock in the middle of it. “This time, I’m actually engaged.” She said, hiding the fact that one of the few reasons why she wore the jewel on her finger, was because it’s greenery reminded her of the glow she saw in her one true love’s teary eyes as he climbed on his horse, after kissing her goodbye 6 years ago.

“You’re…” Harry chuckled nervously. “But that’s not… I didn’t…” The smile was still very much present on his lips as he repeatedly shook his head, but there was an obvious melancholic gleam taking over the rest of his features. “I don’t understand…” His voice broke at the confession. The look on his face suddently becoming too agonizing for Valerie to stare at. “How?”

It was shattering Valerie’s heart to break the news to him, but she couldn’t fight the bitterness that was still very much present in her speaking tone. “What’s so hard to understand?” She disclosed with a shrug. “You left and I got tired of waiting.”

“But you… You gave yourself to me. We were getting married… You made a promise.”

“You promised a lot of things as well…”

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Gravefort, Texas. 9th of October, 1886

Harry nuzzled his nose on Valerie’s stripped neckline, whispering something almost incomprehensible into her skin.

His draggy secretive tone never failed to bring chills down her spine, but this time, the chills happened for a different reason. “What was that?” Valerie pressed, lifting up on her elbows and staring at him with her wide and expectant cherry eyes.

“I asked you to marry me.” Harry repeated a little louder. The warm sun rays from the end of the afternoon embraced his ethereal features with an orangey gleam, that matched perfectly the golden athmosphere that surrounded the two compromised lovebirds. “I don’t have a ring, but…” He rolled around so that he was now laying on his belly, before messily kneeling down in one knee over the grass and taking both of Valerie’s now trembling hands in his. “I couldn’t leave without asking…”

The hardened skin of his overworked fingertips pricked Valerie’s own in a soothing manner as thumbs caressed the soft skin of her palms. “Harry…” The girl mumbled, a little dumbfounded by her lover’s proposal.

Before she could let out another word, he took her hands to his lips and placed a tender kiss over her knuckles. “Valerie Cassidy Bluebell, my Cherry… Will you conceide me the previlege of having you as my wife for the rest of my life?” Valerie gasped. Words catching on the bottom of her throat, due to the emotions pricking her skin from the inside out.

Harry’s confidence faltered upon Valerie’s unnusual quietness. His heart rate uprising from trepidation at the unpredictability of her answer. “Oh no... This was a terrible idea, wasn’t it?” The long haired boy sweated out. “I know I should’ve gotten you a ring, but I-”

“Yes.” Valerie finally managed to let out. Harry lifted his head, ready to be met with what he assumed would be his girl’s confounded and perhaps even slightly offended expression, however all there was for him to meet was the comforting warmth of her kiss. “Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you.” She nodded, puckering up the entirety of his face whilst her eyes overflowed with happy tears.

Once the heavenly smooch assault came to a halt, Harry took Valerie’s hand to his mouth again, placing his lips over her naked ring finger. “I know I should’ve at least gotten you a metal ring...” He counterpoised, heavy hearted about his infeasibility to afford a piece of jewelry to gift to his wife to be. “Harry…” Valerie started in a dismaying tone, already guessing where the conversation was going.

“If I could, I would get you a gold one… decked with pearls and Amethyst.” He reveried out loud. “You would see... even Queen Victoria would be jealous of it’s artistry!”

Valerie’s eyes blazed at his words, evidencing her dandered up state. “Why would I care about a piece of frippery when I have the biggest treasure of all?” She questioned. “I have a beautiful, charming man with a heart of gold, that cherishes me above all my blemishes and faults… What else is there to long for?”

Harry’s eyes glistened in the light as he stared adoringly into Valerie’s. “Fucking hell…” He snickered, rubbing off the line of sweat from his forehead and the debris of his emotional discomposure from the corner of his eye. “Come here.” He called, flinging himself off his knelt position and crawling over Valerie’s body. The girl sprained herself over the grass to accomodate her lover, letting out playful squeals as his lips traced down a path from the apple of her cheek to the prominent bone on her collar, before coming right back up and meeting Valerie’s mouth halfway.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him closer as they traded loving and passionate kisses, causing a guttural groan to escape from within Harry’s lips at the feeling of his crotch getting squeezed against Valerie’s cottony lap. “Make love to me.” She asked, noticing the way his muscles contorted in anguish at the feeling of her touch. “I want you to.”

“You do?” Harry questioned with surprise. It wasn’t like they never fooled around with one another. They did, in fact, they shared some very pleasant moments in the back of the saloon quite regularly during Valerie’s work breaks. They usually included lots of kissing and crotch bumping. On rare occasions Valerie would let Harry touch under her skirt, and one time she’d even kissed him down there... Those moments usually ended up with Harry making a right mess in his pants, something that Valerie secretly took a lot of joy out of. “Are you sure?” He spoke haltingly, looking into Valerie’s eyes to make sure there was no reluctance in them.

“Yes.” She confirmed, leaning upwards to connect their mouths once again. Unhurriedly, Harry’s hands dwelve under Valerie’s petticoat, pulling down her drawers. She whimpered under him, at the feeling of the fabric sliding down her legs and the soft puncture of the grass on the flesh of her backside.

His fingertips met his mouth, as he sizzed a fair dose of saliva directly over his index and middle finger. Without wasting much time. He took them to Valerie’s tender center, encompassing her folds with variable up and down and circular movements.

Her lips parted with delight, sweet and succulent moans dripping from them like nectar from a ripened apricot. Her hands griped the collar of his flannel shirt. “Wanna take it off?” He asked in between a heap of pecks to her lips. She promptly undid the buttons and pushed the shirt away from his body. Both of them tittering once it awkwardly got stuck over his shoulder.

He kneeled for a moment to remove it fully, dropping it on top of Valerie’s translucent underwear before he placed himself on top of her again. Their eager mouths met as Harry’s fingers seeped through Valerie’s sweltering heat. He bore them in and out of her at a slow, vacillating pace until he felt them slip in and out without any compulsion.

“I want more.” The young girl pleaded, bolstering up her hips to urge Harry to hasten up his movement flow. “I need you deeper.” She confessed, brushing her lips and tongue over the slightly sweaty curve of his neck. Goosebumps erupting all over his skin at the contact of her deliciously warm and clammy mouth.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He inquired, already nestling himself more comfortably in between her spreaded legs as Valerie fervently leered right back at him.

“Yes, undoubtedly.” She affirmed, but there was a agitated tone to her voice. “I’m just feeling a touch nervous...”

“Yeah, me too...” The boy admited. “Not gonna lie, I’m rather scared of tearing you apart. Don’t want to hurt you...”

“You won’t.” Valerie assured with a chuckle, pulling his face down and collapsing their lips together one more time. Resting her head over the cushy soil, the girl took a deep breath and pressed her eyes shut. “Just don’t be too rough at first…”

Harry nodded his head firmly, tenderly stroking his knuckles over her beautiful face before placing a chaste kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be gentle, I promise.” He pulled his pants under, leaving them halfway down his thighs. Setting his painfully compressed member loose at last. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah, I’m ready.” Valerie confirmed, holding her lover to her chest and nuzzling her face on his collar. Harry coated his shaft with it’s own outflow, stroking it against his Cherry’s hidden slit. He dragged it along her folds instictively, loving the way she let out perky cries every time his lenght stroke against her sensitive button. “I’m gonna try to push it in, alright?”

She didn’t give him a verbal answer, but he felt her nod against his shoulder and her grip thightening around his body in antecipation as she felt Harry align himself with her entrance. “I love you.” He muttered into her hairline, as he inserted himself into her for the first time. Valerie seethed as she felt him, hardly a couple of inches inside of her. There was a pulsating sting to the stretching, but it was a oddly satisfying one.

Valerie’s hand found her lover’s hair, pushing the stubborn strands falling over his face back in place. “You can keep going.” She assured, and with another tender kiss he carried on thrusting into her at a slow pace. With each thrust, she felt him slide deeper inside of her.

“Feels so good…” Harry groaned lowly, tenderly pushing Valerie’s knees up against her chest to get better access to her weepy core.

“So do you.” She admitted diffidently. Harry raveled in the sound of her promiscuous confession, daring to launch his weight into her with a little more force. It took a couple more thrusts for his member to slide throughly into her, causing both of them let out a moan. Harry’s delightment didn’t last though, for when he opened his eyes and looked down at Valerie, he noticed the girl’s eyes were squeezed shut and her nostrils were flaring as she breathed heavily through her nose. “I’ve hurt you, haven’t I?”

Valerie opened her eyes and stared back at him with fondness as her hands came up to cup his face. “I’m just getting used to it…” She said with honesty, running her thumbs across the sides of Harry’s face. “It’s not insufferable, just a little different…” She added once she noticed all the corners of Harry’s contorting in genuine affliction. “No.” The saloon girl protested once she realized his intent of pulling away from her. “If I wanted you to stop I would’ve asked you to.” She assured, crossing her ankles behind Harry’s lower back to keep him from moving further away.

“It’s no good if only one of us is enjoying it…” Squinting her eyes at his groaning, Valerie  tightened the grip of her legs around his body and gave him a little push with her calves, making his hips involuntarily jounce forward. “Cherry,” He warned. “What are you trying to do?” He asked in a cautionary, yet playful tone once he found himself burried inside Valerie again.

“Getting what I want. Which is for my dearest love to screw me.” Unhurriedly, she repeated the action a couple more times, compelling Harry to tilt back his head in pleasure, before she felt his body begin to pendulate back at the rhythm she’d settle. “You can go faster if you want. It’s making me feel good... Feels like I’m wet, down there.”

“Trust me, you are. And as much as I would love to go faster, this pace is already making it really hard for me…” He admitted, knowing he wouldn’t be able to stay much longer inside Valerie’s tight walls without spilling his load.

“Does me being wet also make it feel good for you?” Harry knew it was a genuinely innocent question, but it still didn’t stop it from sending a pleasure wave throughout his belly, not only because it made him more conscious of the warm fluids coating his prick, but also because it came straight out of Valerie’s well-behaved mouth.

“Are you going to start uttering profanities in front of me more often now?” He teased, feeling the previous apprehension and insecurities melting away with each thrust, due to her palpable eagerness.

“Of course not. I’m a very respectable woman.” Harry tittered a warm laugh at Valerie’s words.

“Remarkably respectable.” He assented in a matching farcical tone as he carried on fucking haltingly into her. Valerie’s cheeks were tickling pink, mouth opening for it’s own accord as she relished on the feeling that she was starting to get used to. The fullness was heavenly, but getting to see Harry in such an elated state, and knowing that she was the reason for his pleasure, was even better.

“You’re making me feel so good...” The boy moaned between gritted teeth into the skin of Valerie’s face. “You have such a pretty little flower. I can’t believe you’re letting me devour you like this.”

“I always feel good under your touch.” Valerie admitted, letting out a little weep in response to a particularly pleasurable thrust. “Unblemished, even having you inside of me.” Harry’s curious hand dwelve under Valerie’s chemise, groping the flesh from her thighs, hips, waist and stopping right under her chest. His fingers met the string in Valerie’s neckline and he plucked it open, taking one of her breasts in his large hand as he mushed their lips together. Valerie’s back helplessly arched once she felt her hardened nipple brushing against Harry’s perspiring palms. “You’re my kindred soul, Harry.” She spoke into his mouth.

“And you’re my heart’s desire.” The boy complemented her stance, attaching their mouths together once again as he increased the lurching of his lenght inside of her.

His hair fanned over her face when a gust of warm wind embraced both of their bodies, reminding Valerie that she had yet to give him the trim he’d asked for, but that thought was quickly forgotten once he tucked his nose into her neck and open mouthedly kissed the upper side of her bosom. “Please go faster.” The girl urged, running her nails up and down the skin of his back.

“Val… I can’t, I’m gonna…” Harry breathed into Valerie’s skin. She could feel his movements faltering and his irregular panting in the gap between her breasts. 

“I know.” She acknowledged with a nod of her head. “Keep going, I want you to.”

In the spur of the moment, and mostly because he was too euphoric to anticipate the consequences of his actions, Harry decided to fulfill his girl’s wish. He balanced his weight on his forearm and simultaneously pushed Valerie’s right knee further apart, and after a sequence of unsteady jerks of his flank, he let out a series of inarticulated groans, coating his delilah’s skintight walls with his sticky closure.

Once he finished riding his orgasm, Harry let his exhausted body fall to the side, causing his prick to slide out of Valerie in the process. Her back was now pressed against his palpitating chest, right leg widely spread and leaning over his own. Seeing her like that, Harry couldn’t stop himself from taking his right hand to her entrance, collecting some of his own release on his fingertips. “My sweet Cherry...” He mouthed against Valerie’s scalp as he began rubbing his fingers in circles over her swollen bud. “I love to watch you bloom for me…”

His determined fingers were doing wonders for Valerie, but so were the sultry gasping on her neck and the sweet carnal praises he was breathlessly singing in her ear as he trailed wet kisses down her throat. “I’m going to miss this so much.” He was kneading on the flesh of her inner thigh to keep her in place as he savored her. “Look at me.” He fondly asked once she inevitably began to gitter in pleasure. “I want to remember the way you look when you reach it.”

Valerie’s face blushed at the request, but nonetheless she shifted a bit in her laying down position, so that they were facing eachother. “Like this?” She asked timidly.

“Almost.” Harry’s free hand found Valerie’s chest again, unfurling the fabric of the already open collar of her chemise, until both of her breasts were exposed to him. “So beautiful...” Harry simpered before he began caressing the mounds with steamy kisses that had his girl whimpering and boring her nails into the flesh of his arm, that proceeded the stirring movements over her sensitive flares. Once their gazes met, Harry could tell Valerie was smouldering with desire. “Swear I‘ve never seen a prettier sight...”

At first she was holding herself back, mostly because she was trying to keep her composure in order look decent for Harry, but as the pace of his hand quickened, Valerie’s body involuntarily began to convulse. She knew she should be feeling vulnerable, being so exposed to a man’s gaze, but she didn’t. On the contrary, staring into her truelove’s olive colored eyes was only fomenting her confidence and pleasure.

The more she truthfully embraced her joyride, the more his eyes gleamed with amusement and the closer she was getting to the finish line. With a sequence of affected Ohs and whimpers and her eyes still very much locked on his, she moaned out a array of “Harry I- I’m going to… Harry, oh please...”

The boy held her close to his chest, knowing how much the physical contact intensified the experience for her. “So pretty baby, you’re really cute when you start rambling like that.” He cooed against the skin of her temple, raveling on the feeling of Valerie’s body unruffling under his steady hold as she reached her climax.

Once Harry was done drawing out all the cries and body springs that he could from Valerie, the lovers laid in blissful stillness. Finding comfort in the feeling of eachother’s heartbeats and the sound of a solitary prairie falcon chirping at distance.

“What if now…” Harry’s chapped voice broke the almost silent athmosphere. “… you know,” He raised the question, not having to finish it for the girl to make out what he was attempting to ask.

She tilted her head back to stare at him. “If I happened to get your baby today, I’ll have it... Wether we've already wed by the time it comes or not.” They hadn’t really discussed parenthood yet, even though they were both aware that it was something that came with marriage and that they wanted to experience eventually. “But don’t think too much about that...” Valerie dismissed, noticing Harry staring at his release pouring from her entrance and sliding down the curve of her rump. “A gipsy once told me that I wouldn’t get pregnant until I was 25.” Harry looked down on her with a distrusting smile. “It’s true! She said it was written in my mount of Venus...”

Harry’s face scrunched up with inquisitiveness. “Your mount of what?”

“It’s something in my palm.” She raised her hand in front of him, spreading her fingers apart. Harry grabbed her wrist and skepically leaned forwards to inspect it. With each passing second the corners of his lips tilted down a little more, not noticing anything particularly lumpy. “You’ll need to look a little closer...” The girl advised, as the cowboy tilted his head to the side a bit, attentitively staring at the hand in front of him. Once his nose was practically grazing Valerie’s palm, she jumped over his lap and ran the tips of her fingers through his hair in a sprightly manner, urging a soft roar to burst from the pit of his chest.

He wrapped his arms around the girl and rolled their bodies over the grass, until they were both laying on their sides, directly facing each other. He pulled her against his chest, feeling a sudden heaviness taking over his heart at the recognition that he was bound to soon leave this small western town that he’d grown so fond of and most importantly, the beautiful woman that he was ought to marry in the near future. “I still allow upon getting you that ring though…” He mumbled into Valerie’s freshly disheveled hair. “With at least one pearl.”

She rolled her eyes at the unrealistically high-reaching words that came out of his mouth, but gave him a generous, grateful kiss anyway. “You’re too ambitious for you own good.”

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Gravefort, Texas. 18th of April, 1892

It was past 10pm when Harry tumbled out of Myrtle’s Sapphire.

As he made his way down the street, with hopes of still finding a room at Gravefort’s Inn or, at least a dry piece of land to spend the night. He carried on ambulating downtown. Only half aware that due to his highly inebriated state, for each step he gave to the right, he was giving two to the left. The outlaw didn’t manage to get far from the estabelishment’s door, ending up tripping in one of the pebbles of the bumpy ground beneath him and collapsing over his side.

As he fell harshly over the rocky soil, he felt what he considered to be his biggest treasure (besides the one that grew up with him and usually hung between his legs) fall from his pocket. “Shit.” He cursed, blindedly palming through the fresh mud as he lazily looked for the missing item. “There you are.” He disclosed with a relieved expression. Still sitting with his ass on the ground, the cowboy tore apart the freshly ruined wrapping paper, revealing a simple yet one-of-a-kind ring. It’s band was unpretentious, thin and golden, however, there was unparalleled uniqueness to the piece of jewlery brought by the single freshwater pearl laid on top of it.

The darkness of the night didn’t stop Harry from rolling it around in his fingers like he always did, even though he knew that only day time could bless him with the sight of the magnetizing pastel shades the object reflected with the sunlight. Lilac, pink and ivory. Dazzling, delicate and beautifully unpolished, just like her.

Harry sat for a while, contemplating the ring and on to what to do with himself. He felt mad. Mad at Valerie for giving him the mitten, madder at whoever bastard she was about to marry, but more than anything, he felt hellish at himself. For being selfish to the point of assuming a beautiful woman like her would wait forever on a bad man like him.

He wondered if, had he gotten around to send her a letter like he wanted to so many times, things could've been different. Maybe if he hadn't let himself be convinced by those crooks… Maybe if he had listened when his gut told him not to step inside that first train… Maybe if he'd carried on doing his honest, poorly-paid work at the farm he would've already gathered enough money to bear the costs of having a family without having to relinquish the privilege of his freedom. With a shake of his head, he stuffed the ring back in his pocket and got back on his feet.

“Fuck…” He hissed at the sharp pain he felt on his thigh as he stood from the ground, not even daring to bend down and slap the dirt away from his trousers with fear of losing his balance again. He looked heavenwards. “I know you’re mad at me…” He spoke to God, drunkenly pacing around the building’s entrance, with his eyes stuck on the full moon iluminating the dark path he was walking on. Harry had always considered himself a man of faith, and even though he’d sometimes disregard his religion, his christian beliefs still remained the same. “But I deserve it, don’t I?” He questioned with a sob. “I’ve been bad… I know I have. I’m a piece of shit… I’m nothing but a thief…”

“I’m not worthy of my Cherry…” He blubbered out. “She deserves so much better than the selfish son of bitch that is me…” Harry carried on grumbling to himself, with his eyes still locked onto the two lit up, blurry circles that he was seeing in the sky, believing them to be God’s eyes. “A noose around my neck is all that I’ve got waiting for me… And I bet you won’t even take me up there with you, will you?”

Once he didn’t get an answer to his question, he scoffed at the starry sky. “You know what, fuck this shit. I’m going back to Horse’s Road, I’m going to marry the first woman I find that isn’t my cousin and I’ll never think of Valerie, cherries or this stupid, shit town ever again!” His empty promises were uttered in the shape of bitter mutters as he drunkenly strided over a series of puddles on his way to pick up Kiwi from the stable.

Once he got there, the intoxicated man stood still by the gate, as his confused green eyes jumped between the deserted street he’d just walked down of and the loose rope, fallen over the soil and dangling from the unnocupied horse pole.

“Where’s my horse?” He asked the only two hoofed witnesses that unfortunantly, much like God, couldn’t answer any of his questions.

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A little less than a mile away, on the other edge of town, Valerie was also observing the full moon shining over the valley.

Now that the bustles were officially out of fashion and with her wedding around the corner, she had been spending all her free time rearranging her work dresses, in hopes of making them look a little more contemporary and… modest, assuming her knee lenght skirts and lowered necklines wouldn’t do her any favour causing a good impression in Otis’s parents once she finally got to meet them in a couple of months.

Although, quite frankly, Otis and his family were the last of her worriments that night. She couldn’t stop thinking about him. The bloody idiot! She couldn't help but tremble at the remiscence of his kiss. Hours ago, animosity had crawled through her veins, swiftly caging her senses like ivy climbing up a tree. But there was fondness, agonizing fondness still deeply rooted inside her heart. And good God! She was aching. Sobbing. Silently screaming into her closed fist as she wondered if he had already put his feet back in the path away from Gravefort. Part of her wished he had, but the bigger part of her wished he had stayed. Wished to see him at the Saloon again the next day. Wished he came knocking on her door that night and used his mouth to beg for her forgiveness in a completely different way.

"Autch!" The girl yelped, once she felt the needle’s sharpness piercing through the skin of her finger. Immediately, she took it to her mouth, sucking on the blood before it could form a bead over the tip. She glanced towards the window briefly as she did so, but then her eyes squinted, as she saw a animal’s outline advancing through the grass. “That can’t be…” She mumbled inquisitively, easily recognizing the brown splattered white fur of the creature happily trotting around her back garden. “Kiwi?”

She got up in a jump, figuring that Harry had somehow heard her prayers, found out where she currently lived and had came to try his luck again, hoping for a different outcome than the one he got earlier.

Valerie stood by the window for a while, waiting for his figure to eventually show up in her campsight, but as the minutes kept passing and it was only just the horse, she figured something couldn’t be right. It’s not your problem Valerie she told herself, sitting her ass back down and focusing her attention on the half unstitched ruby red fabric again.

But everytime she peeked through the glass, she noticed the equine had walked a little closer towards the sierra, that was packed with hungry wolves, coyotes and rattlesnakes. Valerie tried her hardest to push back the thoughts of the innocent creature being torn apart by merciless teeth or neighing in pain as the venon of a serpent ran through it’s body, slowly shutting down it’s organs, one by one…

“Oh, for christ’s sake…” She grabbed her light blue summer robe, putting it on briskly over her nightgown on her way outside. “Hey!” She took her fingers to her mouth and whistled, like she had witnessed Harry do countless times, when he wanted to call the attention of his four legged companion. The mustang stopped and stared around itself, but once he didn’t recognize it’s owner, he carried on paying no mind. “Oh, come on...” The girl protested, as she followed through the yellowy grass field that led to her neighbour’s fruit garden, where Kiwi was currently heading.

“No, no, no, no… Kiwi, no!” She shouted down as the mustang opened it’s mouth and started ripping out a branch from one of her neighbour’s apple trees, in order to munch on the ripe, delicious smelling fruits growing from it. “You can’t take those!” She hissed, fearing that speaking loudly would scare him away or worse, wake up her catabolic old witch of a neighbour, who also happened to be her landlord and would undoubtedly turn both of them into minced meat if she found them destroying her property in the middle of the night.

Impulsively, Valerie grabbed onto the fallen branch’s two largest twigs and dragged it a couple of inches back, hoping Kiwi would follow after the strong apple smell. But it turns out the creature was very ill-tempered and stubborn, so instead of following the woman's lead like any normal or decent horse would, he started rearing and nickering disobediently. Like a spoiled child throwing a fit.

“Oh, stop that. Will you?!” The brown-eyed girl scoffed with annoyance. “And where’s your god forsaken owner, anyway?” She asked the hoofed being as she carried on unsuccessfully trying to convince it to follow her back to her side of the property. “Did he abandon you as well? Oh well, don’t worry too much about it… I’m sure he’ll come back eventually,” Valerie let go of the branch and puffed out her cheeks, giving up on coarcing the horse to move in exchange of taking a sit on the edge of the property’s well. Head supported by one of her hands and the other picking on the small wildflowers growing from the cavities within the stony walls. “You know, when you've finally accepted his presumed death and moved on with your life… Just so that he can ruin it all over again.”

As if he could sense the girl's dispiredness, Kiwi trotted over and peacefully stood next to her. “You could stay with me if you’d like…” She jokingly proposed, running her hand up and down the equine’s forehead in slow motions in response to it's urging nudges and nose blows on her shoulder. “What do you think? Cherry and Kiwi… does that make a good combo? --How the hell should you know... You’re a horse.” The girl suspired, “Hey! Where are you going?” She asked, but then she began to descry the figure of a man that she knew all too well, wondering through the same half-knee high grass she stood on.

Earlier, when she was blinded by rage, she hadn’t really taken the time to appreciate his accouterment, but she did now. He was wearing a cream colored shirt, unbuttoned nearly halfway, like he usually always wore. Valerie could momentarily spot the silver cross glistening against the skin of his chest under the moonlight as he dashed towards Kiwi. Over the shirt, he wore a brown jacket shirt, made in the same leather material of his trousers. Speaking of which, was that blood in them?  

“Harry.” Valerie made herself known, by sprinting over meadow towards him. She could feel the pavement rocks and spiky grass bruising the underside of her feet as she ran barefoot through the unkept garden, but she couldn’t care. Not when her dearest love was limping and staring back at her with those afflicted, bewildered eyes.

“Cherry?” He inquired as he recognized the underdressed, loose-haired woman running towards him. For a moment, he thought he was hallucinating, having lustful visions of cherry eyes, long strands of hair and unconstrained breasts again... But then she stopped, inches away from clashing against his body.

“You’re hurt.” Valerie observed with a silent gasp. Her gaze locked onto the blood pooling over the side of his leg, just above the knee. Harry could feel the warmth radiating from her heavy breaths, assuring him that he wasn’t dreaming. This was real. She was real. “You’re bleeding…” The saloon girl kneeled down and carefully pulled at the torn fabric with her finger, but the night light was scarce and didn’t allow for her to see much. It wasn’t a bullet wound, she could tell that much. “You fell, didn’t you?”

“No…” Harry sheepishly lied, but Valerie could tell he wasn’t being honest. She could smell the alcohol on his clothes. “M’ fine. This is nothing… just a scratch.” He laid her off, but Valerie ignored him, knowing that he was just embarassed and trying to act tough.

She wasn’t surprised by this outcome.

There was no denying that Harry was inherently clumsy, so adding a couple of drinks to his, most likely empty, stomach was the most definite way to bound his night to end in disaster. She was still miffed though, mostly at herself for leaving the confines of her house tonight. Because now that she had seen his injury, her tender nature was compelling her to do something about it. “Come inside. We need to clean your leg.” The girl suggested, letting her hand drop from the fabric and getting back on her feet.

“You don’t have to, it’s fine…” Harry insisted, but Valerie had already wrapped her arm around his waist and was helping him walk ahead.

Once they made it inside the house, she dropped him over one of the kitchen chairs near the door. Pulling another one from under the table to sit right in front of him, she tried pulling up his trousers to reach his thigh. That’s when she noticed something was a bit off with him.

“You stink.” She commented, scrunching up her nose with repulsion, once the smell his body emanated reached her nostrils. It wasn’t that bad, if she was being honest. Especially, once she compared to most cowboys she met at the saloon, but she was used to him keeping a fairly decent hygiene, at least before he came to meet her, so she found it to be disconcearting nonetheless. “When was the last time you bathed?”

“Uhh…” He hesitated, scratching his greasy hairline as he tried to recall “Like bathed, bathed?!”

That was enough of an answer for her.

“Get undressed. I’m going to run you a bath.” Valerie said, getting back on her feet and prudishly turning around to give him some privacy to remove his clothes. She didn’t notice it straight away, but the fact that she was facing a glass window doomed her with a clear view of his bare ass as he calmly removed his trousers and climbed inside the bath barrel she kept in the kitchen out of convinience.

“Will you help me wash up?” The cowboy asked earnestly. “I can barely move, it’s too small.” Valerie bit her lip, trying to fight her sinful desires threatening to fully cloud her mind with each passing second of undisclosed gawking through the glass reflexion.

She forced herself to literally shake the thoughts away from her head as she picked up two buckets kept under the counter. “I’m going to go get you some water.” She said, walking outside so that she could fill them… and get some air. 

Don’t even think about it, Valerie The girl censured herself as she pushed the first bucket down the hole. You’re a compromised woman She assented with a forced nod of her head The only reason why he’s naked inside your house is because he’s a man in need Valerie really wished that pulling that thought to the front of her brain was as easy as pulling the thick rope she was tugging at with familiar ease. Therefore, you’re going to help him… and as soon as you’re done, you’re going to kick him out the door - “Yeah, that’s it.” She uttered out loud, swiftly turning around and making her way back inside the house with a brimming bucket dangling from each hand.

Closing the door with a stomp of her foot, the saloon worker walked back inside the kitchen, instantly disappearing from Harry’s line of sight as she walked behind him.

He didn’t think much of it, assuming she’d gone put the water to boil, or at least to warm for a little while. Quite frankly, he expected about anything but to feel half of a bucket of freezing water getting poured down over his head without a single warning. His body jumped inside the tub as he let out a involuntary screech at the liquid cold cascading down his upper body.

“Too cold for you?” The girl asked ludicrously, noticing the way Harry was gasping and shivering from head to toe. Valerie wasn’t a mean person, she just trying to wake him up… and perhaps doing God’s work and penalizing him a little for his sins.

Harry quickly dismissed her question with a jiterry sounding “It’s fine.” but there was no hiding... The gooseflesh and chattering teeth were giving him away. “What is that?” The cowboy blabbered apprehensively, noticing the small ambar glass bottle Valerie had just placed on the side of the tub as she dropped down on her knees behind him.

“Rum and Rosemary,” She practically suspired. “Better for the hair than that Massacar oil y’all like so much...” Opening the flask, she poured out a generous ammount of the mixture in her hand and took it to harry’s head, earnestly rubbing the infusion around his scalp, combing her fingers through every single lock. Once she was finished, she dared to take a glance at Harry’s face, furrowing her brows once she noticed the man’s eyes were shut in complete bliss… Or maybe he had just passed out from the booze… or hypothermia. She was’t really sure.

Valerie got back on her feet and walked up to one of the kitchen counters, completely oblivious to the way Harry was anxiously tilting his head back at the recognition of her absence. “Are you done already?” He asked with a disconsolated pout.

“Patience is a virtue, Nightingale.” She bickered, walking from side to side inside the kitchen before she came to kneel down in the same position than before.

“Don’t call me that…” The man grumbled, as she grabbed a fresh slice of homemade soap and submerged it in water.

“Why wouldn’t I?” She ran the soap across his broad shoulders and back, until she was satisfied with the thick line of product coating the skin. “Is that not who you are?” She asked as she placed both hands over his shoulders, using her thumbs to massage the sore muscles of his shoulder blades as the remaining her fingers spreaded the product around.

“It is, but… fuck, that feels good.” Harry cut himself off with a moan, tilting his head back and casually resting his elbows over the edges of the wooden barrel. Once he did, Valerie couldn’t help but to take a impertinent peek downwards, being immediately presented with a glimpse of the most preeminent yield of his manhood. The cold water was definitely not doing his lenght any favours, but the topsy-turvy outline was still obvious enough to make her feel bad for staring. 

“Wouldn’t hurt to have some decency...” The girl prompted, leaving Harry mystifiedly staring at her. “Cover yourself.” She demanded, trying her best to look away as he unconcernedly peered down on himself.

“Oh, come on… Don’t go acting like you’ve never seen it before.” Despite his taunting, he sank both his hands under the water, overlapping them on top of the organ resting between his painfully bent legs.

“Doesn’t mean I want to see it now…” Valerie enlightened as she dragged her body around the barrel, until she was face to face with him.

“Oh, right! Forgive me, I forgot you have another one to look at now...” From the corner of her eye, Valerie could see him looking at the jewel in her ring. “Does his resemble that ring he gave you?” He asked, not even bothering to dissemble his bitterness, nor his dirty mouth. “Showy, unimaginative and of terribly poor taste? Oh, not to mention it doesn’t even fit you right.”

Valerie heaved a humourless laugh at his assuming. “My husband to be’s possessions are none of your business, Nightingale.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Maybe not all of them…” He agreed, hissing once Valerie unnapolagetically ran the bar of soap over his injured thigh, right before she carried on massaging the bruised, overly sensitive area with much less gentleness than she normally would. “But you… You were mine to begin with. He made it my business when he decided to steal you from me.” Harry added begrudgingly, prompting Valerie to cough out a outraged huff.

“I’m not a piece of landing one can just steal. And losing me was your own fault for vanishing and leaving me here, mourning your loss when you were still very much alive and well.”

“I promised I would come back to you, and I did.” Harry stated, brows furrowing from the jealously induced anger mixing with his blood. “Doesn’t that make up for anything?” He knew he was being nonsensical, he had no right to demand for her forgiveness, let alone for another chance, but he couldn’t help himself. He cherished her too much to let her go and marry another man when he knew he could love her better. “Does he know? About us? Does he know I was your first?

His question left her feeling uncomfortable, he could tell that much. “Why would I tell him? It was ages ago… It’s nothing of great importance.”

“Nothing of great importance,” He repeated her words, voice low and unbelieving. “What are you going to say if he can tell?”

"Men can’t tell such things, that’s all corral dust." She promptly said, not daring to spare him a look, fearing that he could sense her angsty state by looking into her eyes. Valerie really wanted to believe what Agnes and Judith had swore to her, that men really couldn't tell if women were virgins by the way their sex felt like. However, Valerie’s guilty conscience still tormented her sometimes, making her consider storing a little chicken blood to pour over the sheets on the wedding night, as ridiculous as that may sound. She wasn’t going to express her worriments to anyone though, especially not to a jealous past lover. “And even if he can, I’m sure he’ll come to appreciate the little baggage that I carry.”

Harry breathed his discontentment through his nose at the thought of someone else having what was once his and only his. “He won’t love you like I do, you know?” With his head tilted down, he let one of his hands come up to the surface, just so he could slowly run his fingers across the edge of the barrel. Valerie wished she could stop the vulgar thoughts reeling up her crotch as she watched Harry’s large hand moving back and forth, gleaming from the water dripping down his fingers, and falling over the kitchen flooring in thick drops. “As you’ll come to find out, most men don’t do the things I do that you like…”

“Why would you say that? You don’t even know Otis. He’s a very polite man.”

“Politeness doesn’t make a good lover darling,” A small smile graces his lips, it’s a self assured one that it’s almost making her feel embarassed, or at least a little too insecure to try and contradict him. “I’ve been told I’m a very generous lover…”

A gasp of shock came to Valerie. “So you’ve slept with other women?!” She chokes out, immediately pulling her hands away from his leg and looking into his worried stiff face.

Harry’s throat went dry as he realized he had just put his foot on his mouth by saying that out loud. He was just trying to prove a point, but maybe - no, definitely, he’d be better keeping his mouth shut. “Only from the back!” He swore, leaning forwards to take Valerie’s hand, but she pulled it from his hold immediately. “And I swear I kept my eyes closed most of the time!”

“You. Ungraceful. Swine!” Valerie chastised between slaps to his torso, before getting back on her feet and walking away from the tub, until she was facing the furthest wall with her arms crossed and tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. She knew Harry had gotten up after her by the sound of the water running down his legs and pooling by his feet as he stood still inside the tub, presumably staring at her, trying to figure out what to do next. “I can’t believe I ever thought that you loved me.” The girl grumbled under her breath, once she heard him whine flatly with the pain that came from the stretch of his leg as he stepped outside the barrel, undoubdtedly making a mess after himself, but Valerie couldn’t even muster to complain about it. She couldn’t look at him right now.

She felt his approaching presence behind her. “And I can’t believe I ever thought that you didn’t…” He replied, effortlessly making her spine curdle with the warmth of his breath on her neck. It was a contrasting feeling compared to the one of his wet and bare body against the thin layers covering hers. “Would it make you feel better if I told you that I cried after every single time?” Without much of a warning, he wrapped his arms around her middle, and nuzzled his nose on the back of her head.

“No.” The word came out as a whimper at the feeling of his scruff on her jawline as he spoke against her shoulder.

“No? What if I told you that the only way I could reach it was if I thought about my face between your legs? And how your honey is so much sweeter than the rest…”

“Harry… please, just...” Valerie pleaded, letting her head fall to the side at the feeling of his icy, purply lips repeatedly kissing her shoulder and collar. She hadn’t quite figured what exactly she was begging for, wheter it was for him to stop or to take whatever he wanted from her right then and there, and before she could, she heard him speak again.

“Allow me to kiss you again…” Valerie shook her head no, unable to pronounce the lie that she didn’t want him to. "Please... Just one last time. Been dying to from the moment I saw you tonight.” It was starting to get to her, having his lips so close to her mouth and not being able to taste them… But she couldn’t, no matter how inviting the thought was.

“You’re a prick. I’d rather kiss a stray dog.” The glassy-eyed girl lied, tilting her head back to look him in the eyes. She shouldn’t have looked, because staring directly at his mouth was only making it harder for her. Especially when the freezing tips of Harry’s fingers came up to graze the under side of her jaw. His thumb skimming lightly over the flesh of her lips, as his mouth placed delicate kisses all over the side of her nose, eyebrows, cheekbone and any other part of her face that was exposed to his cactus colored eyes. “Harry, we can’t.” She admitted, past the agitated state of her heart. “You know I’ve compromised with another man.”

“But you don’t love him,” Harry said assuredly, as if he had been able to see through her chest, inside the turmoil that was her heart. “Not in the way you are supposed to love a man you’re about to marry, and certainly not in the way you loved me.”

“That kind of love isn’t essential to a marriage. There are far greater things about marriages than a couple’s intimacy and things of carnal nature.” The girl fabricated, desperately trying to move her head to hide her eyes away from him, but the gentle pressure his hand exerted on her face, wasn’t allowing for her to.

“That’s a big load of bullshit.” Harry said, eyes twinkling once he felt her cheeks warming up due to his allegation. As much as her yearning for Harry anguished her, Valerie couldn’t escape the seducement that his gaze carried. So, before he could torment her any further, she bounced forward and kissed his plushy lips with all the raging passion she had been supressing from the moment she laid eyes on him. The pressure of their mouths on eachother’s immediately beckoning their lips to part, giving their tongues all the opportunity they needed to meet halfway into the kiss.

The couple stood in the middle of Valerie’s old style kitchen with their arms wrapped around each other’s bodies, and their tongues swirling amidst push and pull motions of their relentless lips.

“I love you so much,” Harry confessed in a low murmur as he pulled away from Valerie for a moment. “And I’m so sorry… I wish I could take it all back, if I could I would jus-” He began to pour out excuses, but Valerie shushed him by crashing her mouth on his again, much softer than the first time.

“Don’t remind me of all the reasons that should make me despise you when I’m about to ask for you to pull my clothes off.” With a playful sly smile on his lips, Harry’s hands moved from where they rested on Valerie’s lower back to her stomach, just so that he could pull apart the knot keeping her robe sealed together. Once he did, both sides fell open immediately, reveling the girl’s pratically seethrough nightgown to his hungry eyes. The light in the room was scarce, but it still allowed him to make up her nipples, growing pebbled at the contact of his chest, where freezing water dropplets still drizzled down from time to time, from the back of his hair.

Whilst the cowboy entertained himself by gripping and squeezing at her chest, the girl took her hands to her collar, pulling the light colored robe off her shoulders and letting it fall to the floor, that was not only dusty, but also slippery from the water leaking from Harry’s hair and body, but a dirty piece of clothing was the least of Valerie’s problems. She couldn’t care about that, not when there was a naked outlaw standing in her kitchen doing her like that.

Once he finished his charge on her nipples, his head lunged up again just so he could smush his mouth onto Valerie’s again. He was gripping at the fabric covering her hips as they kissed, impassioned by the little hums and whimpers falling from his Cherry’s lips anytime his hands slid behind her and felt around her bottom. “Should we take this off?” He asked, grabbing onto the hem of her nightgown, that he had been not so descretely tugging up her thighs with fervent fingers. “Feels like it’s getting in the way of our lovemaking…”

She hadn’t been expecting him to ask to see her naked, she assumed he would just want to ride up her skirt, like they’d always done. But this time things felt different, they weren’t squeezed in a barn corner or hiding under a tree, taking chance of a pasture field’s downtime. No, this time, there was a special longing radiating from both their bodies, craving to be touched, kissed and seen like never before. And after all she was already commiting multiple unforgiving sins by sleeping with him, wheter she decided to leave something to the imagination or not was only a small detail.

So she nodded her head and held her arms up, scrunching up her face with a smile once she felt it eagerly being pulled off of her. Once she opened her eyes again, she saw Harry stupefiedly staring at her body, like it was made of gold. His lips were parted, face flushed and eyes relentlessly embracing the beautiful sight that were her curves. Her, all of her. “Cherry, I-” Harry was all out of words. The only thing he could do was stare, simpering as he did so. “You’re breathtaking.” He complimented, running the pads of his fingers up and down her sides and lightly pushing their foreheads together. “Always have been.”

She took the time to observe the beautiful man standing in front of her, focusing mostly on the parts that were right in front of her. While bathing him, she’d already noticed a couple of changes in his body that had came with maturity, but getting to run her fingers through them like she was doing now, was giving her goosebumps. His shoulders looked more outstretched, new hair trails adorned his skin, right in the middle of his chest and under his belly button, what naturally made him look more masculine, in a beautifully grown way that was making Valerie’s body tingle with want.

“You’re breathtaking as well… my kindred soul.” She flaterred back, wrapping her arms around the outlaw’s neck and brushing her lips on his multiple times. She could feel his erection dangling between their bodies as she kissed him. It was the reason why she was repeatedly flexing and relaxing her toes, wallowing on the shaky gasps the cowboy was respiring into her neck at each rub of her venter. “Darling, if you keep rubbing on me like that I’m going to make a mess all over you before we even start.” He warned, with a charming laugh that echoed all the way inside the ramshackle house like it actually belonged there, making Valerie’s chest swell.

“I see not much has changed then…” She taunted, attempting to push her body even closer to his to continue with her teasing, but he stopped her with a hand on each side of her hips.

“I’m gonna need you to stay still...” He asked in a demanding tone. “While I get down on my knees and kiss your warm little flower.” He informed, not even giving her time to collect her breath before letting his weight drop downwards over his knees. He started by planting kisses all over her little pooch and caressing her skin with his fingers, slowly spreading her lips open to reveal the slick, smooth interior hidden beneath the frizzy, fluffy surface.

“Let’s move to the bed!” Valerie yelped, pushing his body further away by the shoulders once she felt his lips touch below her hip bone. Harry sighed in agreement, holding on to her forearms to help himself back onto his feet.

She grabbed him by the hand, dragging him across the room and through the door that led to her small bedroom. The matress on the floor was made of straw, kept together by a set of uncordinate buttons displayed all around the sheets. There was a small and tall furniture piece in the corner of the room, where she kept her clothing and more personal belongings. Backed up next to the window was a writing desk, where Valerie’s sewing utensils and unassembled red dress remained, after being placed there on a rush after she spotted Kiwi through the window.

Harry wasted no time in easing her on top of the matress, carrying right where he left off kissing her mouth, her neck, her collar… Valerie pressed her eyes shut, as she felt him kissing his way down her body until he was situated between the girl’s legs again.

“Don’t you think it’s best we just do it the conventional way?” She asked suddenly. Her reaction didn’t surprise Harry the slightest, he knew how uptight his girl could get about her own wants and carnal desires. “This feels a little… sinful.” He also could tell by her abashed state that she didn’t mean that, and was only saying it because she was feeling nervous.

“There’s nothing blameworthy about wanting to be pleasured, Cherry.” The boy assured, carrying on displaying kisses over the expand of her lower belly. She’d let him taste her once, on the same day she’d tasted him. He remembered it vividly, the way sheer flicks of his tongue had managed to pull the prettiest sounds off her throat, sounds pretty enough to make him involuntarily thrust his hips into thin air. “Just for a little bit, then I’ll make proper love to you.” He suggested, feeling her apprehension melt under each touch of his lips up her thigh. “I miss your taste... and making you feel good.”

Valerie was breathing heavily, eyes wide as she looked down at him. Almost like she was expecting him to bite a piece of her off. “It’s okay, love.” Harry cooed, kissing the inner part of both her thighs, and soothingly running his palms up and down her legs, from the hips to the knees. He could smell her already, deliciously overpowering and persuasive as only she could be, and it was making it hard for him to hold back and not jolt forward and bury his face in it to quench his thirst for her squirms.

“I know, I just... I don’t like how loud I get when you do that.” Valerie confessed, somehow feeling even more embarassed for admitting it out loud. “Makes me all wary and noisy.”

Harry knew that, of course he did. It was one of his favorite parts about licking up into her. He loved the way he could make her jitter and moan out little cries for him with just a couple of wet kisses and glides of his tongue. “But you like how it feels, right?” She nodded her head, so he carried on kissing the soft flesh of her flank, lips petting higher and higher up towards the spot he was aiming reach. Valerie was growing wetter and warmer with every little advance of his mouth, legs already starting to tremble just from guessing what was to come. Her fingers sank into his hair, giving him the impression that she was asking him to stop, but just as he was about to, she tigheted her grip onto his hair and tugged his head down further.

He wasted no more time in pressing his lips on the girl, who was growing breathless under his touch, letting out a little squirm once her eyes met Harry’s lustful ones, blazing with satisfaction to finally get a taste of her juicy nature again. Part of him, wanted to stop and ask how it felt, but truth be told, her body was telling him more than her words ever could. She had let her head fall back against the pillow, mouth helplessly opening and closing, but no single noise was coming out. Matter of fact, the only sound being heard inside the walls of the small bedroom were the sounds of his saliva getting mixed with her essence through the licks and sucks he was pleasuring her with.

But that didn’t last long, especially once he tilted his head up a little a began kitten licking her sensitive nub, making a sudden groan erupt from the dephts of her throat as she let her back collapse against the matress and lifted up her head to watch him work on her. “It’s nice isn’t it?” Harry asked, not being able to hold his teasing tongue, upon noticing her elated expression. “Watching as I do it, ‘s what I mean.”

By the way she furrowed her eyebrows, Harry could tell his naughty question had left her all hot and bothered, especially once she hummed her way around the words “No more.” Triggering the frown that set over the boy’s freshly wet and swollen lips as he crawled over her body, only stopping once he was face to face with her again, mouths inches apart from touching once he asked “Why no more?” in between pecks to the side of her jaw, since she was shyly trying to hide her face from his inquiring eyes. “I know you were enjoying yourself... You were sounding so pretty for me...” Harry crooned against the side of her face he was kissing. “Making me so hard with your sweet little moans.”

“Yes, but I – I want the other thing now.” The girl timorously uncovered her intentions, making Harry’s worried expression soften as he let out a chuckle that Valerie not only heard and saw, but also felt directly over her ribcage, making her insides flutter. “So, you want to take me again? Is that it? Want me inside of you?” The boy amusedly asked, making Valerie nod her head with conviction. She usually disapproved of men’s use of lewd, raunchy vocabulary in front of her, but Harry was different. Maybe it was the honeyed, loving look in his eyes counterbalencing the bitterness of his words… or perhaps it was the smell of her arousal, coming directly from his filthy tongue as he spoke, that was tainting her sanity, and yet it was probably just her secret liking for vulgar, stinky outlaws. “And then what, Cherry? Tell me, what should I do with myself?”

“I trust you know what to do better than I do...” She said. “But maybe you could start by putting it inside?” She suggests, and Harry willingly obliged, his chest parting from the girl’s breasts for a couple of seconds as he positioned the head of his penis at her soft entrance, waiting for confirmation from her before easing himself inside her. Due to the additional slickness of his spit, the insertion happened with fairly more easiness than last time. His cock fitting inside of her so nicely, that it made her ankles jump to wrap around his back right then. “God, Harry.” She whined, lightly carving her nails into his shoulders, once she felt his tip hitting deeper inside of her, right before he bottomed out halfway.

“Is that a good God, or a bad one?” He questioned apprehensively, controlling the urge to thurst his hips harder and faster like he wanted to. Valerie’s lips contorned into a mischievious smile, before she swiftly flexed her knees, that were still crossed behind Harry’s back. Just like last time, his hips jolted forward, making his prick slide fully in and nudge that divine spot that made her toes curl and her lips part in awe. “You really enjoy doing that, don’t you?” Harry merrily huffed, only getting back a “Mhm” from Valerie before she crashed her lips on his for a quick kiss.

Once she attempted to pull back from it, Harry slid his fingers around the back of her neck and pulled her back to his mouth, rolling his hips against hers as he did so. Valerie’s fingers were dancing along his broad back, nails digging into the hard flesh in dragging motions, and pulling him closer to her at the same time. He was groaning in her ears as he pulled out and sank back inside again, his movements growing quicker and harsher as her moans got louder and her cunt got wetter.

And fuck, she was wet. Wet and so beautiful, with her clammy chest glued to Harry’s, her back arching upwards everytime he hit that sweet spot and hips bucking up to meet his movements halfway.

The sounds their bodies were producing were obcene, sticky skin slapping loudly inside the walls of Valerie’s impoverished bedroom, and once Harry slid his hand down and began fiddling with her swollen button, Valerie was a goner. Releasing a groan that would have definitely had her covering up her mouth in shock any other time, but she was too turned on to care. All she could focus on was the feeling of her lover’s fingers messily circuling her bud, the heavyness of his lenght, filling her up to the brim, the efeverscent heat she felt deep within her core and the buzzing in her ears that had her her eyelashes fluttering as she took her bottom lip in between her teeth. “Don’t stop, please, please, please. oh, shit!” She curses as she reaches her climax, coating Harry’s prick with her arousal, that he can feel, smell and still taste all over his tongue.

“Did you just cum and curse?” He seeks her confirmation, slowly pushing his prick all the way inside of her and stilling his movements. He could feel her heartbeat on her gut, squeezing and releasing him at a fast and steady rhythm. She nods her head, that’s still entirely too dizzy to be getting shaken up so eagerly. The action has him staring between their bodies as he carries on with his movements, but he soon realizes that the idea of filling up her up with his release is too tempting for him to keep staring at his prick sliding in and out of her hole, so he tilts his head back, seeking for his ever favorite pair of brown eyes instead.

Valerie doesn’t notice his stare right away though, since she was looking at the place their bodies connected as well, eyes practically black with how much her pupils had dilated at the filthy sight. Harry hisses, pushing their foreheads together once their eyes meet, and after five more truly relentless thrusts of his hips, he pulls out of her. “Gonna cum.” He warns, sliding his ready to burst prick in between her wet and puffy outer lips until his body involuntarily twitches and flinches, as he spurts thick stripes of cum right over her pubic bone and the fluffiest part of her belly. The boy groans, kneeling down over the matress and rubbing up against her folds until he was completely finished milking out his orgasm.

Once their eyes meet again, Valerie’s chest erupts in a fit of contagious giggles that Harry catches onto right away. “I love you.” He says, falling on top of her body over his bent elbows. “I love you so much.” The side of his face is pressed against her chest, limbs resting over the sides of her body as Valerie runs her fingers through his still slightly moist hair. It’s heavenly. Feeling the weight of his body pushing her down onto the matress, his chest rising and falling over her ribcage, their exhausted breaths fanning over the loose hair strands falling over their faces and necklines... Valerie doesn’t think she’s ever felt more pleased than she did then, in his arms.

“I love you too, Harry... I always have.” The girl says, feeling a tear pricking her eye, as she soothingly runs her hands up and down his nape. “I just wish things were different, if -- if Otis wasn’t around and you didn’t have to leave again.” She really was crying now. From where he was pushing open his eye, Harry could spot a set of glossy tears running down her cheek as she spoke.

“It’s not too late, Cherry.” He speaks against her skin, wiggling his body to fit better against hers. “You can run away with me. We can move to California... I’ll get a job there, we can get a house. I won’t promise it will be a great one to start, but then maybe-”

Valerie stopped his rambling by surprisingly crashing her lips onto his. “I don’t care.” She assured, kissing her lover time and time again. “I’ll go anywhere we have to, as long as I get to be with you.”

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[pinencurls]

“I could just hold you and listen to your voice all night long.”

Hiii so this is my entry to @stellarboystyles‘s three year anniversary fic challenge! I’ve been busy with getting ready for classes starting and balancing other stuff so I wrote it on and off for a week and a bit but I hope you all enjoy! Feedback is so so encouraged and appreciated <3 

Here’s my masterlist of some other stuff I’ve written x 

Enemies (more like friends but oops) to lovers, prompt 9 “I could just hold you and listen to your voice all night long.”

14k+ :) Not read through sorry! pls let me know of any mistakes and I’ll correct them <3 (also i k n o w the title's bad but i couldn’t think of anything, pls feel free to leave any recs.)

- - - - 

It isn’t that I hate Harry. He just makes me feel...insecure. He’s never said or done anything directly but it’s hard to feel good about yourself when all your closest confidants seem to compare you to somebody else, somebody they so clearly hold higher above you. There wasn’t a single day I could meet a mutual friend of mine and Harry’s and not have them sing his praises, and apparently everyone was a mutual friend. I’ve known Julia and Theo for years, we all met in uni when they first started going out but it wasn’t until a year ago that I somehow ended up finding myself a regular within the friendship group they’d formed when they both went into the music and fashion industries. They had ties everywhere and after a pure coincidence of running into them and their circle at a pub, almost all my weekends were spent in various art galleries or new restaurants owned by somebody’s cousin or the guy they met last night at a Fleetwood Mac concert. 

I’d met Harry about five months into hanging out with the group. He’d known them a lot longer than I had, weaving his way into the little pockets of interesting people for years since the x factor. I was busy with work the first few times he was in town but after a while, Nick, the persistent party planner of the group who always managed to wrangle us together, insisted that I just had to meet him.                  . . . . . 

Eleanor’s house is huge and buzzing with hundreds of strangers. I cling to Julia and Theo’s side, Nick and Eleanor are nowhere in sight - most likely playing host or drinking too much chardonnay in another corner of the house. These four are the only people I can say I really know here, sure there are a few familiar faces on the dance floor, either from having met them at any of Eleanor's past elaborate parties or just because of they’re not so subtle fame. That’s another thing, all the people sipping wine and dancing around me are fairly...well known. Either just within the industry or to the general public too, they’d all gain fairly high status. It was a fluke really that I got on so well with Julia when we first met on a fashion course in uni. 

Julia had big goals, all of which she was on track to fulfil, that conflicted slightly with mine. Her goals consisted of runway show models clad in designer brands she might one day contribute to whereas mine were more...anti, that whole world. It took a few years to find a steady footing but eventually, I was proud of where I’d ended up: a comfortable little cubby in the fashion and sustainability columns of a handful of independent magazines. After a few nights out with Julia, I was pleasantly surprised to find her shared interests and solidarity in my work and ambitions of her own within the same ideology. But whilst that’s all well and good, I’m still very much the small indie journalist that slips through the cracks when it comes to small talk at these kinds of events. It became apparent pretty quickly that my latest articles on how fast fashion had begun its destruction of a liveable environment in developing countries weren’t as relevant or interesting to the people promoting Prada and Calvin Klein as the next met gala theme. 

“Do you want another drink?” Theo asks from beside me, pulling my focus from my scan of the room. 

“No thanks..I’m good.” I murmur, debating how long I have to stay before I can slip out and feel a little less awkward around all the people I have no clue how to talk to. “Think I’m gonna head off actually..”

“Look I know you hate networking, but this is just a chill get-together yeah?” Theo chuckles, squeezing my shoulder before taking another sip from his gin and tonic. “We’re in the same boat about these snooty things but tonight’s not like that, relax a bit will ya.” 

Theo works mostly with small-time music artists, producing debut albums and such so we share the same deep discomfort for the many events we often find ourselves at. It’s how we got close really, week after week we’d trail behind Julia as she strikes up conversations with Hollywood elite...and he always makes getting piss drunk in someone’s pool house exceptionally fun. 

Before I can further any excuses about getting home to start on the legitimate and ever-growing pile of work deadlines on my desk, a tall man in far too much Gucci to belong anywhere but in a room full of models and artists makes a beeline straight from the bar to our awkward party. 

“Harry!” Theo shouts, embracing the slightly tipsy man in a hug he reciprocates. 

“It’s been too long mate, how ‘ave you been?” Harry cheers, leaning back from the hug and grinning down at his friend. 

“I’ve been good - busy, enjoying the free bar as always.” Theo jokes, motioning between his and my matching G and T’s. Harry’s eyes wander up from the drink, realisation dawning on his face as he smiles again.

“Ah and you must be the famous Olivia,” He reaches his hand out to mine and shakes it lightly. “Sorry I didn’t introduce myself, ‘m Harry, it’s good to finally meet you, love.”  

“Likewise.” I smile, trying to suppress the blush his words of endearment tease. I can’t deny the natural charm and charisma everyone always talks about now that it’s hitting me straight on. There’s something about the way he doesn’t hesitate to hold eye contact just that little bit longer that makes the room go still for just a second. He’d got it down to a T.

“Aww I see you two have finally met!” Nick interrupts. My hand falls from Harry’s grip as he’s welcomed into another hug. “About fucking time as well, been trying get this one to take a night off for weeks!”

“I literally came out with you last Thursday!” I counter, not missing the smirk setting on Harry’s face as he watches Nick and I’s back and forth. “And the Saturday before, come to think of it I’m always out with you Nicky.” 

“Not when Harry’s in town though n’ that’s a different kinda night.” Nick laughs, his beer sloshing slightly in his free hand as his other remains draped over Harry’s shoulders. 

That was maybe the first sign of my slight resentment for Harry. All night I wandered around with Theo hearing little bits of conversations, all surrounding the star of the party. I understood this wasn’t his doing, his humility was clear in every one of his bashful attempts to turn the conversation away from his growing achievements and onto literally anything else. He was, however, a self-proclaimed narcissist. Every time somebody would swoon over him and insist he stay the topic of conversation, a smirk tugged at his lips and stayed there as he consumed the endless and animated praise from almost all the party guests. 

I’d expected some of his qualities to be untrue, learning from the past never to believe blindly of someone’s pure character when you didn’t truly know them. Especially when they frequented the gossip columns. But it wasn’t him so much, he was true to his motto of kindness and courteous even as people fawned over him, it was more the attention that surrounded him. As the night went on it became clear what Nick meant even if he didn’t know it himself. A night out with Harry was different because everyone made sure to capitalize off how different he made them feel.

. . . . .

“Can I get you anything else M’am?” The young waitress asks as she clears up my empty mug and saucer. My eyes falter a little as they adjust from the blue light of my laptop I’ve been staring at for the last twenty minutes. 

“Um- oh please could I just get a refill?” I ask. 

“Sure thing - mint tea right?” She smiles, adjusting the mug in her hands to make a quick note. 

 “Yeah..s’perfect - thank you.” She’s gone before she hears my delayed gratitudes, definitely used to the throngs of bemused writers tapping away at their laptops for hours. 

I turn back to my open google doc. So far it’s written in two parts I have no idea how to connect and my senseless rereading hasn’t resulted in any legitimate progress in almost an hour. I’d accept the rut I’m stuck in and work on something else for the day if I didn’t only have the day. Last night had been filled with plans of settling in early and finishing the last two thousand words on an upcoming sustainable clothing brand. That all went out the window of course as my phone buzzed off the kitchen counter with Nick’s insistence of yet another night out to celebrate ending the work week - his was quite different to mine. It was easy to ignore the persistent beeping of my phone as new texts and call notifications popped up every three minutes, but less so when the rhythmic bursts of noise were replaced by knocks on my front door. 

Within 40 minutes of opening it to Nick in a silk shirt and jeans too skinny for someone pushing thirty, I was two drinks in and dancing to Blue DeTiger with a pair of hands on my waist that I didn’t entirely recognise. It was just the six of us: Me, Nick, Ellie, Theo, Julia and Harry.

He was hard to ignore, not that I was trying particularly hard. On the drive over, the limited backseat space in Nick’s car and close proximity had practically forced me into his lap. Even with thighs pressed tightly against each other, we hardly talked, a few polite hellos here and there and then silence as we listened to Eleanor recall her latest night with whichever blonde bassist was her ‘soulmate’ that week. The whole ride over, Harry kept his hands on the thigh closest to the door and leant his shoulders the same way as to touch me as little as possible - which was still quite a lot considering the packed five seater pushing seven passengers. It was fairly common knowledge we weren’t close and I got the feeling he wasn’t too keen on me, but he could at least not act like touching me would be the worst thing ever. 

As the night went on he clung to Theo, ever the cuddly drunk, and I stayed more to the pleasant stranger I’d found on the dance floor.

No meanest was ever intended between us but I couldn’t help but watch the kindergarten like bitterness grow as everyone just loved him. We couldn’t go anywhere without a crying fan or two approaching the sweet and smiling man who always answered their questions affectionately and hugged them goodbye. The times he was out of town were always filled with comments about his absence, as if none of us were good enough without his added presence. I couldn’t help but wonder why they even bothered to bring me into their little group. The lack of closeness between Harry and I felt almost like a lack of closeness to the group as a whole, despite how much my individual friendships with everyone advanced. 

Just as I thank the waitress - Alice, her name tag read, and take the first sip of my third tea (I had to switch after a particularly strong starter coffee) I notice a familiar man out the corner of my eye looking just as rough as me. Of course he’s wearing it better than I am. 

Harry collects a drink from the counter and bows his head slightly in thanks, turning and catching my eye just as he’s on his way out. He waves with his free hand and shoots me a candid smile before making a quick change in direction towards my small table. 

“Long time no see,” He pulls the chair opposite me out a little as he chuckles at his own joke. He perches lightly, temporarily. “How’ve you been?”

“A little hungover, I won’t lie..” I laugh, surprised by the whole encounter. “You?” 

“Same, I might have had a shot or two too many,” I nod knowingly and shut my laptop softly. He sips what smells like coffee before going on. “Are ya workin? Sorry to interrupt.” 

“Oh no- I mean I am but it doesn’t matter really, ‘ve kinda hit a dead end.” His eyes hover, waiting for me to go on. “I was gonna get it done last night but Nick had other plans..” 

“Yeah Nick’ll do that to you,” He laughs, “What’re you writing ‘bout?” 

He leans slightly forwards, holding eye contact and shuffling comfortably into his chair. 

“Oh just this promotional piece on a new company, they’re hiring young women and training them to make these handmade clothes. They’re paying them above minimum wage and focusing on sustainability so this editor I’ve written for before offered me it.” I’m not really sure how sincere he is in his curiosity, he always seems to have time to listen when Julia has a new design plan or Theo’s found a new artist but that’s different really. I stop before I start to ramble, just in case. 

“That’s so cool, what kinda stuff are they making?” He prompts, resting his chin on his fist, imitating the posture of an eager little kid. 

“They've started stocking stuff by other independent artists but mostly dungarees and these cool cord trousers, they’d suit you actually, even got some 70s style ones.” Now that the two worlds are colliding in my head, I can’t help but imagine Harry in a pair of their forest green cords, the wide legs would almost bury his vans but a part of me is pretty sure he’d love them. 

“Thanks, if they come at your recommendation I might have to get my hands on a pair,” He smiles, his tone’s a lot different to the usual polite cheer, it’s difficult to place where it’s landed before he’s talking again. “Reminds me of that show you took us to with the upcycled clothes, all those dungarees made of old quilts - remember?” 

It’d been a small exhibit just outside of London I’d mentioned offhandedly and somehow ended up showing everyone around. It was nice to have them all in my world for an evening. Marcus, a friend of mine from college, had put it together and created a lot of the pieces. He and the others I’d met through my work were fairly shocked to say the least when Harry Styles came traipsing through the doors behind me. All night he quietly asked Nick questions, to which Nick only responded by motioning towards me and wandering off to the bar. 

“I do - I’m surprised you do to be honest.” It slips before I can decide if it sounds passive aggressive or not. To be fair, it had been a surprise to me, meeting everyone at the train station and watching Harry and Nick scramble out a taxi and run towards us. He’d been dressed in proper gallery attire and seemed genuinely thrilled to be joining in on the rare night I actually played host. 

“Course I do, it was a good night...I’d choose it over Nick’s tequila Tuesdays anyday.” His phone buzzes on the table, a text popping up in green. “Oh I- my manager’s waiting sorry.” 

A sheepish smile is accompanied by a loose arm movement towards the door where, out on the street, I see Jeff. He’s shaking his head and motioning for Harry to hurry up. Had Harry sat down to talk to me whilst his manager had been waiting this whole time? 

“It was good running into you, good luck with it all,” He stands. “See you friday yeah?” 

I’d totally forgotten about his “Whenever I’m in town Friday film night.” until he mentioned it. I’d been twice in the past and stayed quietly to my corner of the sofa, only watching as everyone else laughed at whatever romcom had been chosen that night. 

“I-maybe.” He shakes his head as I smile, not quite ready to commit a whole evening to watching Nick raid Harry’s wine cellar. 

“You better, I’m gonna need to hear more ‘bout those cords.” He points his hand in a kind of joking reprimand/wave before he’s gone back down the aisle of tables to the door where Jeff ruffles a hand through his hair and laughs when his hands fly to fix the now birdnest of brown curls. 

I open my laptop back up, skimming over the last few lines I wrote to get myself back on track. I take a sip and my tea’s gone cold. 

. . . . .

“Are you coming to Harry’s tonight?” Eleanor asks down the phone, her voice chipper as she no doubt raids her closet. 

“Maybe, I don’t know..I’ve got this deadline Monday morning that I’m nowhere near meeting.” 

“Come on Liv, we haven’t seen you all properly together since last month, and last week doesn’t count it was too loud to actually talk!” She chimes in, the sound of clothes being tossed to the floor clear in the distant background. “Have you got a problem with Harry or something?” 

“No Elle, of course I don’t-” 

“Then why do you guys never talk? You hardly come with us when he’s around and when you do you barely even say hello.” Eleanor complains, she’s mentioned it in the past but it’s been easy to blow off with excuses of how busy he usually was making his way around the room to greet everyone or how we just hadn’t known each other that long and weren't particularly close yet. 

“I just...I don’t know, I don’t think he likes me very much.” I pause. I still haven't decided what last Saturday was in the cafe. “We’re not really close and I’d prefer not to spend another night listening to people tell him - and everyone else - how great he is.” 

“You’re saying that like he’s some arrogant twit, if you came out with us more you’d see what he’s really like around his friends. Or you know, you could actually talk to him when we’re together and see that he’s not a dick?” 

It was a fair point. I haven’t made much of an effort over the past year to spend any time with him outside of larger gatherings or to have genuine conversations with him that went past the weather or a new jacket one of us had on. Maybe he really is a good guy away from all the pretentious crowds and watchful eyes he usually called to our group. He’d certainly seemed different in the quiet Saturday surroundings of Blondies Coffee Roasters in between sips of coffee. 

“Okay, okay yeah I’ll see you there.” We hang up a couple of minutes later and I’m left alone in my kitchen again.

. . . . . 

“Hey!” Harry cheers as the door swings open to reveal him in yet another pair of flared pants that hung comfortably around his waist. “Come in, come in.” 

We all pile in through the doorway as he steps aside. Arms weaving through each other as we hang coats and jackets and Julia passes Harry the fruit platter she’d made (and scolded us all for picking at on the drive over.) 

“Oh very appropriate,” Harry laughs as he uncovers the tray to reveal an array of sliced watermelon, strawberries and grapes, He sets the fruit down on the table in the lounge for us all to eat and shakes his head lightly. I look up at Julia for an explanation but she’s too busy claiming the comfiest loveseat for the night. “I’m never telling you anything again, Jules.” 

Julia and Harry tease each other for a moment more until Theo catches my confused stares and laughs to himself. 

“Harry wrote a song ‘bout fruit- another one actually,” Theo starts, tucking himself beside Julia and letting her take over before he can finish. “S’not just about fruit though is it H?” 

Harry blushes slightly and settles his glare on Julia as he carries six wine glasses through to the table. 

“‘S about watermelon, it just has some..” He clears his throat as he fumbles for his next sentence. “Other themes to it too.” 

“As if mate,” Theo’s laughter booms, “ Basically Liv, he wrote this new song the other day all about how much he loves to-” 

“Watermelon!” Harry yells, pointing an accusatory finger at Theo. “S’all about how much I love watermelons...I’m a fruit guy.” 

“Oh are we talking about the pussy song?” 

All heads snap round to see Nick, obviously having let himself in and now chuckling softly to himself as he leans against the archway into the room. 

“Oh sorry H, were you tryna give an interview answer?” 

Harry just slaps his palm over his eyes and lets his shoulders shake for a minute before he bounces back to host mode. 

“Okay!” I can’t help but notice how flushed the tips of his ears are as he claps his hands together, desperately trying to move on from the conversation. “Who wants wine?” 

Fifteen minutes later everyone is settled onto the sofas with an array of throws between us and a layout of fruits, crisps and other mid rom com snacks that make me feel bad I left my flat in too much of a hurry to remember anything but hummus. 

“Okay - Sixteen Candles, When Harry Met Sally or Mamma Mia?” Nick calls out, waving the tv remote above his head to get everyone's attention. An outpour of votes follows - you’d think between only six of us we’d be able to sort out a process by now but still we fall into momentary anarchy as the room divides. 

“Mamma Mia is a classic!” Eleanor protests as Nick’s shaking his head. 

“And Billy Crystal isn’t?” He yells back, eyes wide and genuinely offended. 

“Colin Firth is arguably more iconic, Nick really, come on.” Theo sighs. He accepts the high fives Ellie and I reach out to him and saluts us both. 

“We’ve all seen Mamma Mia before though, we’ve never watched When Harry Met Sally all together,” Julia points out, winning a smirk and nod of approval from Nick. 

There’s a beat of silence while Nick weighs up the votes in his head. He tilts to the side slightly and eyes Harry up, our gazes following. 

“Harry?” 

“Ellie?” 

“Come on, you’ve got the last vote here, and I know how much you like Meryl.” Nick gasps a little, the mention of Meryl Streep as a wager to win Harry over to his opposing team was definitely foul play in his eyes. 

“Yeah but he loves When Harry Met Sally...and he is a narcissist..” Julia offers into the debate, a few snickers follow her comment before we all turn to look at Harry. We’re all already half a glass in but I could swear for just a moment his eyes lingered over me, fluttering down to my smile before turning back to announce his decision to Nick. 

“I’m afraid I am in the mood for a bit of Abba,” Cheers and not so subtle murmurs of frustration fill the lounge as Nick scrolls through the Romance bar on Netflix before clicking on the film of just over half of our choosing. 

Everyone goes quiet as the film starts, breaking out into bursts of song only as the cast does. From the conversation in the car, it’s pretty clear everyone has just been through a pretty tiring week. We all tended to pile our workload a little heavy so it was always nice to escape for a few hours at the weekend and relax together.

Just as Voulez-vous plays through the room, a slightly tipsy Nick leans into Harry to serenade the singer with his own rendition. The duo sway slightly, both narrowly avoiding Nick’s wild limbs before there’s a crash and Harry’s cursing. 

“Oh- H, Sorry!” 

Nick’s wine glass that’d been balanced on the coffee table in front of him moments before now lays on its side. The, luckily white, wine trickles down onto the rug but most noticeably splashes into Harry’s lap. I’m not entirely sure how he managed it, it must have flown forwards when it was knocked but Harry quickly stands to access the damage. 

“I’m so sorry Harry I-” 

“Don’t worry mate, I’m just gonna go change and toss these in the wash..could you wipe that up for me?” Nick nods, looking a little less cheerful and a lot more guilty now as Harry makes it way out the room. He calls behind him: “Keep watching I’ll only be a second!” 

Nick finishes wiping down the table and rug just as Harry jogs back into the room. I don’t mean to and I’m never one to check people out..unless very subtly, but I can’t help but let my eyes linger a little. 

He’s still in his plain tee but instead of his fancy pants he’s found some soft wash denim jeans. The whole look paired with his thick rimmed glasses and how his hair's gotten tousled about by Nick throughout the night just made him look so...ordinary. Not in any bad way, anyone who met Harry knew he could never be ordinary, no matter how casual he dressed, but something about seeing him abandon the more dressed up looks and go for the comfortable option just made him seem different. 

In a second his green eyes are complimenting the look too as he gazes down at me. 

“Hi,” He mouths, nobody’s taken much notice of his return, yet another musical number taking everyone’s attention. It’s my turn to blush a little now. I avert my eyes quickly, anywhere really, before sneaking a quick look up at him to smile back. 

Ellie had helped Nick in the “For fucksake save Harry’s rug it probably costs more than your car” mission and had stolen the seat beside him after they were done. It slipped my mind until Harry set the new bottle of wine on the table and sunk down into the space beside me, He curls one leg underneath him and slips me one more smile before turning back to the screen just as Donna and Sam start singing SOS.

. . . . . 

“Ah shit, I think I left my book!” I curse just as we make it down the road to Julia’s car. Parking was shit so by the time we found a spot we’d ended up a good 15 minutes away from Harry’s house. “You guys go on, I’m only round the corner anyway.” 

Theo and Julia were familiar with my stubbornness so let me go, yelling their goodbyes after a few hugs as they drove away, Ellie and Nick do the same as they clamber into a taxi. I turn quickly in the chilly air and make my way back down the street to Harry’s drive, punching in the familiar code at his gate before running up to the door hastily. 

It was open - as always, so I let myself in. He was probably still cleaning the lounge up after we all got a little too tipsy. 

“Hey it’s me...just left my book sorry!” I call down the hallway. It’s quiet despite the light Paul Simon playing in the distance so I make my way quickly to the sofas I’d spent most of the night on, praying to avoid an awkward run-in with Harry. 

Although we’d actually shared some light conversation throughout the night and a handful of smiles, I’m not sure we’re quite at the stage in our friendship that me more or less breaking into his house wouldn’t be awkward to run into. 

The lounge is empty when I get there. The side tables are still littered with wine glasses and tacky red rings on coasters but no Harry in sight. Or book for that matter. 

I start pulling back the cushions carefully - god knows how much they cost. Despite scouring the one spot I’d pretty much clung to the whole night -  incidentally beside Harry -  I have no luck. Nick tossed the book back to me at some point in the night after reading it by my recommendation but knowing him it could have ended up anyway. I follow the breadcrumbs of our night down another hallway as I vaguely remember Nick talking about a certain plot twist as we searched Harry’s kitchen cupboards for the wine he’d sent us off to restock. 

As I come around the white archway into his kitchen I catch a glimpse of him from around the kitchen island. He has his back turned to me but he’s leant forwards against a counter with ring covered fingers clutching the edge, a glass of amber liquid set slightly away from him. 

“Oh, sorry I was just-” He jumps a little at my voice, turning quickly to face me with his now free hands coming up to hold his chest. When his eyes finally meet mine they’re red and it takes a second for him to register the tears still streaming from them before he replies. 

“Shit, fu- what are you..are you alright?” His hands bat between tangling into his hair and wiping the tears from his cheeks, anything to avoid actually looking up at me again. 

“Yeah, I just..um..left my book,” I mumble, taking a step closer to him when I notice how his hands shake as they move timidly around his face. “Harry, what’s wrong?”

“Uuuh um.” He wanders for a moment before slapping a palm lightly atop the counter and pulling out his infamous grin. “Nothing much, how bout you - find your book?” 

“-Harry..” I take another step close, “I know we’re not, ya know..close. But you can talk to me.” 

There’s a beat of silence when he keeps up the act, I’d almost believe it if it wasn’t for his bloodshot eyes and anxious fingers drumming against the tile. 

“What’s wrong?” 

He pauses for a moment, assessing whether or not to tell me whatever’s weighing so heavy on his shoulders. But the dam bursts. 

“Fuckin’ everything Love” He laughs, rubbing his palms over his face. I try to focus on the matter at hand: Harry weeping in his kitchen. But that name’s only ever left his mouth directed at me a handful of times and it’s never made my stomach flutter quite as it did just now. “Just..Fuck I’m so lonely Olivia.” 

I don’t really know any of the details but between conversation - mostly overheard, and the media frenzy, it was hard not to be aware of Harry’s break up two months ago. I can’t claim we were close enough to discuss it, having hardly ever talked beyond trivial issues, but I knew that despite them only being together two or so months, he’d been incredibly distant for the weeks that followed the break up. 

“I hear about you and Aubre..I’m really sorry it didn’t work out for you guys-” Harry laughs almost, a pained sort of chuckle that told me I was way off with this one. 

“It’s not..that isn’t why I..” He takes a deep breath before lifting his head up slightly to focus on where his fingers still tapped out a nervous beat on the counter. “I was lonely before her...and with her. I just, I can’t seem to get it right ever...feels like nobody wants to be with me for the right reasons.” 

“Hey no..what about tonight? Your house was full of so many people who love you yeah? Maybe your bougie wine collection had something to do with it but still,” He laughs at that, peeking up from behind his fringe for just a moment. “They- we love you ‘k?” 

“I know but, ‘clock hits the am and everyone leaves, it just gets...it gets so fucking lonely to see everyone in perfect pairs ya know?” 

I don’t really know what I’m doing but I’m doing it - my arms wrap over his shoulders and lock with a hand at the nape of his neck. We’ve never hugged before beyond a general greeting but anyone watching wouldn’t know it, his face burrows quickly into my shoulder and his arms cocoon over my waist, holding me tightly and slipping under the thick layers of my jacket. 

“I know exactly what you mean, H.” 

The hug lasts longer than I imagined it might. He smells of vanilla and the coffee he brought back in bulk from Jamaica. He lets out a shaky breath and melts further into me, nuzzling my neck softly with the tip of his nose. His curls are soft between my fingers and I find myself shhing him, lulling us both into a tired kind of calm. 

Another moment passes in the silence of his kitchen before Harry lets out an awkward cough and straightens up, pulling out of our hold and immediately covering his face with his palms again. 

“I..sorry Jules and Theo must be waiting for you..” Harry murmured, wiping the last of his tears away and letting his hands fall and fidget by his sides. 

“Oh no don’t worry they..um they already went I was actually just gonna walk.” I tell him, making his head perk up a bit. 

“Wha-It’s past twelve Liv it’s not safe, how far do you even live?” He clears his throat and his voice is clearer now, it feels like a whole different world to the one we were in just a minute ago. 

“It’s fine honestly, only take like thirty minutes walking - I’ve done it before-” I ramble, eager to put this situation behind me before I embarrass myself anymore. 

“No - let me drive you yeah?” Harry shakes his head, adamant. 

“Harry..we’ve been drinking all night, I think that’s more dangerous than me jus’ walking.” I laugh, holding his gaze for a second longer than I usually would - fuck, how do we usually act around each other?

Before I come to a conclusion, his eyes rest heavy on mine and I can see the cogs turning in his brain as he tries to work his way out of this one. Ever the people pleaser. 

“Then stay.” 

“Harry-”

“You said you know how it feels.” He cuts in, unwavering now as he doesn’t let my eyes fall from his. “So stay …’s safer anyway.” 

. . . . . 

“I can take the sofa, really Harry I don’t mind,” I reassure as he tosses me an old t-shirt and joggers to sleep in. “It’s comfier than my bed anyway. 

His guest bedrooms had just been painted and were still pretty fume filled so the sofa or his bed were the only options. For twenty minutes now he’s tried to convince me to take his bed and leave him on the sofa, despite the fact we both know he’s a little too tall to sleep without his feet hanging off the end. 

“But you’re my guest!” He protests again, coming up from his wardrobe to stand in front of me, hand on hips and an expression of concern on his face. 

“And you’re almost six foot!” 

“Hey, I am six foot.” He takes a deep breathe, exhaling through his nose in defeat before speaking again. “Okay, you can sleep on the sofa but if anyone asks I was the perfect host and you bullied me into this.” 

I laugh softly, this whole new side of Harry had never been directed solely at me before and it was honestly refreshing. Usually Nick or another friend was the target of his jokes and playful demeanor and I only noticed it from afar but now he was right in front of me, hauling pillows off his bed and sticking his tongue out when he caught me staring. 

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” He asks for the third time since I agreed to stay the night. We’ve just finished setting up the sofa to sleep on and despite the duvet and many quilts far more lush than my own actual bed, he seemed unconvinced it was enough. 

“I’m sure” I sit back into the pile of blankets and pillows, tucking my feet underneath me and looking back up at Harry. “If you’re really not, just come watch a film with me and see how cozy it is.” 

The quick change in dynamic was a lot smoother than I’d imagined. Within an hour of being alone together we’d already talked more than in all our past interactions, not to mention how close we’ve gotten. He only nods his head quickly and he’s settling under a quilt beside me, rummaging around for a controller to pull up netflix again. 

“Mamma Mia two?” He asks. 

I chuckle a bit and nod. At the beginning of the evening I hadn’t quite seen it ending in a Mamma Mia marathon with just me and Harry. 

He presses play and as the opening display begins we both lean back into the sofa and pull the blankets up over us. It’s only in the quiet of the first few scenes that I notice we’re matching. We’re both dressed fully in his clothes, grey joggers and t-shirt - his rolling stones, mine fleetwood mac. And it all smells of him. I pull the blanket a little higher over my chest and the faint, but now familiar, scent of vanilla and coffee fills my lungs and for a second all I can focus on is how desperately I want to be in his arms again. 

. . . . .

“-ow” A groggy voice mumbles from above me and I feel myself being pulled forwards slightly against something hard - and warm. 

I’m a few seconds from falling straight back asleep before I feel the painful ache in the side of my neck. I reach a hand up to gauge my current situation and feel my fingers plunging into soft hair - soft hair that ends too soon to be mine. 

“Hi..” I recoil my hand quickly back to my side and push myself up so I’m sitting slightly. I look down and see Harry, half asleep still and hand still resting on my side. 

“Oh-hey sorry,” What do you say when you wake up beside the guy you barely knew but simultaneously had been incredibly vulnerable with just the night before? 

Harry seems to be waking up now and certainly more aware of our predicament as he pulls his hand away from where it was holding firmly onto the material of my - his - t-shirt and pushes himself up to sit against the arm of the sofa. 

“We must have fallen asleep..sorry I didn’t mean too, ya know…” His eyes flutter between where I sit opposite him and the “Are you still watching?” Netflix screen. 

“It’s fine, accidents happen an’ everything.” I smile, slipping out from the warm cocoon of blankets to stand. “I’m just gonna wash up quickly and I’ll be out of you hair.” 

Before I can rush off to tame my hair and hopefully find some toothpaste to rid me of my morning breath, Harry clasps his hand gently around my wrist and tugs slightly to get my attention. 

“Not in a rush Love, I’ll make us some breakfast.” He says it effortlessly, like it was a regular occurrence for us to fall asleep cuddling on his sofa. He stands, groaning as his knees pop appreciatively and lets my hand go before he’s disappearing into the kitchen.

“Okay…” I murmur to myself. “....okay.” 

. . . . .  

Alice is back at my table with my second refill before 11am. I thank her and take a gulp of the fiery ginger tea before reading over the last three paragraphs I just wrote. The spice licks my tongue as I tip the cup up for a second sip; it’s autumn after all. 

In the last two weeks September had slipped into October and all the trees in London had received the memo. I’d been busy, hoaled up in the quietest corner of Blondies the whole time with coffee filling all my senses. I haven’t seen everyone together since that night at Harry’s. I grabbed lunch with Eleanor the Monday afterwards and told her nothing, preferring to avoid the texts my phone amassed over the fortnight. I've turned down all proposed group activities and focused on work instead. To be fair, I do have a lot to get done. There were always seasonal pieces in my to do list and with the weather getting colder it was time I got to them before it was Christmas already. 

I haven’t talked to Harry either. He made us pancakes with blueberries and maple syrup in the morning and we haven’t even texted since; I’m not sure that we even have a private text between us. Eleanor and Julia have told me how much fun they’ve all had the times I’ve politely but persistently declined, I can only assume Harry’s in the mix with them all. He’s in town for awhile if I’m remembering our breakfast chatter correctly, it makes sense that they’re all hanging out together really when they don’t often get time together. Ellie’s phone calls keep me from sliding into thoughts of how easily I could fall right out of the group and not be missed, at least. I was just taking space for work. The fact that most of my afternoons at the cafe disappeared into me analysing anything I might ever have felt or said to Harry means nothing at all. 

Neither does the heightened pace of my heartbeat when he walks through the stiff wooden  doors of Blondies. 

He orders what I assume is his regular black coffee, scans the room for a second and lands directly on me. He hesitates a little to hold my gaze, turning his head to look outside before looking back at me and smiling. He thanks the server and takes a few quick steps towards me, weaving in between the packed tables to my little spot hidden away in the corner. 

“Hi,” He smiles again, although his toneos overshadowed by a slight anxious hilt. “Can I sit?” 

Nodding, I close my laptop and pull my tea closer to me to make a space for him. 

“Hi.” He repeats, smiling a little sheepishly. 

“Hi,” I wait a second, nervous to start when I’m so unsure of how this conversation has already gone in his head. But he doesn’t say anything so I push through and bite the bullet against my better judgement. “Look, about that Friday I-”

“Can I just-” He cuts me off, leaning forwards and opening his hands out as he mulls over his next few words. “I’m sorry if it was awkward at all, I didn’t mean for anything to happen and I thought we were fine an’ everything but then I haven’t seen you in two weeks and Ellie keeps saying you’re not comin’ out. Did I do something wrong?” 

“Oh god no,” I hurry, “You didn’t do anything it was just - I didn’t expect to wake up..like that...and it was just a really quick change because we’ve never really been close and suddenly it was just, us, like that.” 

He nods, pushing a loose curl back a second later that broke free in the motion. He seems understanding as he looks down before leaning his elbows against the table so only the two of us can hear what he’s about to say. 

“I know, I didn’t expect it either but, can I just tell you I’m glad that it happened?” He leaves a three second pause for me to flounder in confusion before continuing. “What I told you, ‘bout feeling lonely, it messes with my sleep all the time. I just get stuck in my own thoughts but the night you stayed over I slept fine - perfect even.”

Not sure what else to do with this new information, I nod for him to continue.

“I know we’ve never been close, but hanging out with you just really calmed me down.” He smiles, gaining confidence now in his vulnerability tucked away in our little hiding place. “Thank you for staying.” 

“I get what you mean.” I mumble, slightly anxious any of the busy customers with prying eyes could overhear my confession. “I never really know when to stop working and I think I got the best night sleep on your sofa I’ve had in awhile, which really speaks volumes about how crappy my mattress is.”  

He chuckles. Relief seems to settle in as he lets his shoulders relax and face soften. 

“I was thinking - especially now that I know it was good for you as well, maybe it could become more of a regular thing?” He asks, his forefinger and thumb pinch together and twist one of his rings a little - a nervous habit, I’m sure. 

“How do you mean?” 

“Like..when we all go out, maybe we go home together, you know - so we can sleep better.” He moves down to focus on the metal rose he’s still fumbling at. “If..if you don’t want to or you think it’d be weird it’s fi-” 

“I’d like that.” I reach forwards to comfort him, absentmindedly cupping my fingers around his. “I think it’d be nice, to get a good night's sleep I mean.” 

“I’m glad.” He beams.

“..That and you make a mean blueberry pancake.” I tease, earning a light chuckle from Harry. 

Just like our last cafe encounter, the ping of a his phone beats me to my new few words. He checks it quickly, shaking his head and glancing down the large room to the shop front where, once again, Jeff waits. He seems a little more agitated this time, waving vigorously whilst trying not to attract the attention of passersby, all  rather unsuccessfully. 

“Bollocks okay - I’ve gotta go,” Harry swears, collecting his coffee from the table and pushing his chair back quickly. “I’ll just - we can text before we go out next yeah?” 

“Cool, yeah - wait a sec, let me just give you my number.” I reach up for him to hand me his phone but he doesn’t make any effort to move, instead he blushes slightly and stares at the floor. “..What?” 

“I um, I already have it.” He fiddles with the hair at the nape of his neck before talking again. It’s hard not to remember how it felt when it was my fingers carding through his brown curls. “I got it from Theo awhile back when we were going to this thing, felt weird not having it. I hope that..okay and everythin’” 

I nod, smiling up at him. The idea of him having a part of me for this past year without me even knowing is oddly precious. The fact that he felt odd about not having my number and going to the effort of getting it from Theo was unbelievably endearing. 

“That’s fine, helpful actually.” I smile still, “Text me before we meet everyone and we’ll make a plan or somethin’” 

“Okay,” He smirks, his slight cocky nature reemerging. “Will do, Liv. See you soon?” 

“See you soon.” 

Jeff flies a hand up to his hair like before but this time is met with a grinning Harry who doesn’t seem to mind so much. 

. . . . . 

Unknown Number 

‘Hey! Is tonight good? We can slip off after drinks at the gallery. H x’ 

I look down at my phone. Caught off guard by the sudden text, I’d almost forgotten out arrangement. Julia invited us all to a gallery opening of one of her friend's new exhibits. Even as I flicked through my wardrobe for the right jacket, I hadn’t put two and two together and realised I’d be seeing Harry again for the first time since our chat at Blondies four days ago. 

I save his number and I think quickly, not wanting to leave him on read when he knew I’d be leaving to see them all any second and most likely spend the whole tube journey on my phone. 

‘Hi :) That’d work for me yh, just let me know when you want to leave and I’ll make an excuse. Liv x’ 

With another thought rushing through my head, I send a quick follow up. 

Me

‘Can we keep this between us right now? Might be a bit tricky to explain to the others.” 

Harry

‘Read my mind love.’

‘See you in a bit :)’ 

I’m still not the hugest fan of the airy feeling that rushed through my stomach as I read over the pet name. He was just from Manchester, it was normal up there to call everything by casually affectionate little names. It didn’t mean anything at all. 

. . . . . 

“Livia!” Nick calls out when he sees me scanning over the faces at the entrance to the gallery. I smile instantly and make my way over, quickly falling into his arms as he rocks us for a second. “Haven’t seen you in an age!” 

“‘Ve been working, we can’t all piss about Monday to Friday.” I giggle, smiling wide as he murmurs something under his breath and plants a big kiss on my cheek. “Is everyone here?” 

I try not to look suspicious when I peak over around us, trying to pick a certain brunette from the crowd.

“Yeah, they’re just over there with Julia’s friend.” Nick points and I see him immediately. He’s dressed just as I expected - half gucci half grandpa sweaters. “I’m gonna get us drinks, meet you there?” 

“Mhmmm” I hum, breaking out of his hold and slipping through the crowds to our small group of friends. 

“Hi!” Julia smiles brightly. She hugs me quickly before stepping aside to give Eleanor and Theo their turns. They all whisper quiet ‘Missed yous’ in my ear as if I’ve been gone for years. 

“Hey,” Harry appears by my side as everyone else turns their attention to the front of the crowd where it looks like the artist is setting up to introduce the night. “How’ve you been?” 

“In the last four days?” I chuckle, “Good. Not been sleeping great, but I’ve got a lot of work done so that’s been great.” 

He nods approvingly. A smile tugs at his lips at the mention of sleep, almost like some secret inside joke we’ve managed to form between just the two of us. 

“Me neither. Jeff’s been buggin’ me what feels like every hour with deadlines.” I find myself squeezing his hand a little under his long coat sleeves so nobody can see. “Looking forward to just collapsing tonight, if I’m honest.” 

“Me too.” I smile tiredly, tonight had been a big ask come to think of it. I've had work piled up twice my height all week and even having worked day in and day out I’ve still only made a crack in the mountain of final edits and emails to respond to.

Harry squeezes my fingers back and our hands linger in each other's hold until Nick emerges beside us and the artist begins her speech. 

. . . . .

 The comfortable chatter surrounding the booth we’d taken up a few hours ago died down as the clock ticked later and later. We’d left the gallery a while ago now in favour of the after party at a pub down the road but by now the heavy scent of beers and various gin based concoctions were giving us all headaches. 

“I think I’m gonna call it a night guys,” Harry announces, a slew of groans following from the group. “Sorry, sorry! It’s been great but it’s getting late.” 

Julia and Theo move out the way to let him out the booth. He slides across the red cushion to stand, pulling his coat over himself as he sneaks a quick look at me. 

“I think I’m gonna head off too,” I smile, waiting for Eleanour to stand and let me out as another wave of complaints flooded me. “Sorry! I’ve got work and the tube’ll be hell any later.” 

“Well if Harry’s going too couldn’t he take you home?” Julia suggests, looking between the two of us as we now stand slightly away from each other. “You drove right?” 

“Yeah, I did.” Harry turns to smile at me, amused clearly by how our plan was being unknowingly encouraged by our friends. “C’mon, I’ll drive yeh.” 

I nod, biting back a smirk. We say our goodbyes and wave as we slip out the heavy pub doors out onto the road outside. It’s started to drizzle slightly and I resent choosing the jacket without a hood. 

“I’m just over here,” Harry points a little ways off. “Hurry, think it’s about to pour.” 

We walk quickly down the street and through a metal gate into a car park when there’s a loud rumble of thunder and immediately the rain thickens. 

“Fuck!” Harry laughs as he scrambles for his keys, we match each other's paces until we’re practically sprinting to his car in the far corner of the lot. The click of the locks sounds out and his lights flash red a second before we’re both pulling the doors open and throwing ourselves inside onto warm seats. 

We catch our breath, chests rising and falling with uneven pants before our laughter settles and Harry slots the keys into the ignition. 

. . . . . 

“Do you want anything to eat?” Harry asks as he closes his front door behind us and we kick out shoes off in his hall. “I think I have some takeout menus somewhere..” 

“I’m not really hungry, thanks though,” I cut off his search as he walks through to his kitchen and starts opening draws. “Kinda just wanna go to bed now.” 

He nods and rubs a hand under his eye in silent agreement of my exhaustion.

“I’ll make us a tea, meet you up there yeah?” He calls over his shoulder, having turned quickly to retrieve various packets from his cupboards. “Chamomile okay?” 

“Yeah chamomiles good,” I hover for a second in the archway leading into the kitchen, suddenly awkward to be alone in his house again. “Where um..where is it?” 

He looks over his shoulder at me, slightly confused. His eye brows unfurrow when I motion behind me. 

“Oh- just up the stairs and third room down the hall..on the left.” He smiles, turning back to the cupboard to look through his extensive mug collection. 

I nod to myself, spinning on my heel and making my way up his stairs. I’ve never gone beyond the downstairs of his house before and even then I stuck to the kitchen, dining room and lounge. It felt odd to suddenly have access to something as intimate as his bedroom, I try not to overthink things as I push open the third door I see.

The first thing I see is his large bed, there’s probably enough room for three people on it and there’s definitely enough pillows to go around. The room as a whole is tidy, whether it’s always like that or only organised so precisely for my visit, I don’t know, but the thought makes my stomach flutter. 

I walk up to the side of the bed with no charger on it’s table and set my bag down. We hadn’t talked about the logistics of our...arrangement, but I’d brought the basics to last me through the night. I plug my charger into the wall and take out my wash bag and a set of clothes to sleep in before sliding my bag under the table. I look around for a second. Somehow I hadn’t really thought through the fact that by the end of the night, I’d be in Harry’s bed. With Harry. In a completely platonic way with the only function to soothe our mutually crappy sleeping habits. 

I hear Harry walking up the stairs just as I slip into the un suit to wash up and get changed. He’s humming a song under his breath. The clink of mugs being set down is followed by wardrobe doors opening and closing and a light thud of clothes being thrown on the bed. 

I wait a few minutes to make sure I don’t walk in on him changing. Opening the door tentatively, I step out into the room in a large sweater and pajama shorts. Harry turns to look at me, he’s in the same t-shirt he wore last time and a pair of boxer shorts and the whole situation suddenly seems so amusing. After just one night of falling asleep on the sofa together, not having ever talked before, here we are standing at our most vulnerable about to cuddle in his bed together.

“Hi.” 

“Hey,” He nods, looking down at himself. “Hope this is okay...I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or-” 

“It’s fine,” I reassure him, “I didn’t really know what to wear either.” 

His eyes flicker down my body and he smiles back up at me. He motions to the bed and we both nod a little awkwardly before making our way over to our sides. I climb in and instantly let a small groan out as my body sinks into the mattress, the pillows and duvet feel almost like a cloud as I burrow under and pull my tea up to my lips. 

Harry chuckles from beside me, I peak over the mug to seem him grinning down from where he sits slightly taller in the bed.

“Sorry, you look comfy.” He laughs a little, 

“I am, your bed’s insane.” I set my mug down and turn to him, bouncing slightly to emphasise the quality of his mattress that probably cost more than a year of my rent. “I really should start earning millions, feel like it’d suit me.” 

He returns his tea to the bedside table and copies me, turning to face me with his legs crossed. 

“It definitely would.” He smiles, bouncing a little before I let out a yawn. “Tired?” 

“Exhausted.” I mumble, hand still covering half my face. Harry reaches behind him to turn to switch the lights above his headboard off before pulling the duvet back for us to slip under.

“C’mere,” Without hesitating, I shuffle back slightly until I can feel his chest behind me and an arm come up to rest around my hip. “‘This okay?” 

“Mhmmm,” I hum, “What about our teeth?”

“We’ll brush ‘em in the morning,” I nod, groaning again as all the aches in my body subside as I sink into his arms and the foam mattress. “You okay?” 

“Yeah,” I mumble, embarrassed to have let myself go so easily around him. “Your mattress is just unbelievable. Might have to make this a regular thing.” 

I speak before I think, mind clouded with sleep and my eyes already fighting to stay open. 

“That’s the plan, love.” 

. . . . . 

When I wake up, Harry’s arms are tight around my middle and his body’s like a furnace behind me. I vaguely recall pulling my sweater off in the night to cool down as I lay now only in a vest and shorts. I slept better than I have in months though, despite the warm breaths on my neck turning my cheeks flushed. 

The mix of Harry’s company and his safe haven of a mattress made for the perfect night sleep. I push back slightly into his chest and feel his arms tighten around me and a low murmur of his voice in my ear. The clock on my bedside table reads 6:30. It’s a Saturday and I can quite easily imagine spending the rest of my day - weekend even, exactly like this. 

I slip back to sleep for a little awhile before I’m woken up to a low groan behind me. Harry shifts slightly, burying his face in the base of my neck and squeezing around my waist again. He must still be half asleep to be this comfortable with me. 

I’m proven right when it takes another fifteen minutes for him to poke his head up over my shoulder and mumble: 

“Breakfast?” 

. . . . . 

Our routine works smoothly for weeks. After sleeping so well the first few times, it became a given that we’d pile into Harry’s car after every night out with our friends and go back to his. Sometimes we’d get takeout or watch a film, but it wasn’t so rare that we’d just stumble out of his car, or a taxi - depending what the night had entailed, and walk with eyes almost closed straight to bed. 

I stopped bringing things every night about two weeks in when a new toothbrush appeared next to Harrys and an oversized t-shirt of Harrys found its way onto my side of the bed. We also ditched the awkward pleasantries. Spending two or three nights a week in his house, I’d become pretty familiar with it all. I sometimes brought us breakfast if it was a weekend, or left a coffee beside the bed for him if I left for work first, We had very easily slipped into an oddly familiar sense of domesticity. It was strange to never mention any of it to our friends, it made it special though. We helped each other, and it was all just between the two of us. Nobody else knew Harry taught me how to make coffee just the way he likes it, or that we share his lavender shampoo sometimes. 

“Ols?” Harry calls up the stairs to me. We’re running late to Julia and Theos anniversary dinner. 

“Coming!” I yell back, reaching into his wardrobe to snatch a jacket before running down the stares. 

“Oi! Slow down love, you’re gonna fall,” He complains, holding his hands out at the bottom of the stairs to catch me as I skid a little on the wooden floors of his hallway. “Hey! This’s mine!” 

He tugs playfully on the opening of his jacket. I pull the fabric from his grasp and smile up at him. 

“Not anymore…” He scrunches his nose up and pulls me towards him. The sudden movement pushed the air from my lungs suddenly. “-Fine! Just for tonight...nobody’ll notice anyway, you only just got his one.” 

He shakes his head, bringing his fingers up to tickles across my stomach quickly before letting me go and clapping his hands. 

“Shoes now!” He points down at my sock clad feet, “Come on we’re late already.” 

I sling my bag over my shoulder and slip my boots on before trailing after him to the front door. He’s pulled his large green coat off the hangar before he’s looking back down at me, brows pulled together in confusion. 

“What’ve got yeh bag for?” 

“Ah see Harry, I tend not to leave my stuff places I don’t actually live.” I laugh.

“You’re not coming back tonight?” The confusion’s not joined by a hint of sadness as his hands fall from the door knob and he turns to face front on. 

“Oh I..hadn’t thought ‘bout that. I’ve gotta water my plants.” I haven't been home in two days, I spent the whole day at Blondies yesterday then headed to Harry's after a few drinks with him and Nick. We’ve hung out around his house all day, sleeping in and finishing our last few bits of work for the week. “I can let them go a little dry I guess-” 

“Can I come to yours?” Harry cuts me off to ask. “It’s just, I haven’t ever seen it..and that way your plant’ll be fine.” 

I stay quiet for a second. Our world of sleepovers and movie marathons and home made curries for dinner existed within his house. My flat was small in comparisons to the homes of our friends, who were all, delicately put, pretty well off. Not that I wasn’t, I’d just gone into a lower paying area of my industry. I lived alone anyway so there wasn’t much point paying thousands in rent when I didn’t need much space. 

“It’s fine it you want a night to yourself I can just-” 

“It’s not that, H, I just didn't really think about how we only ever come here.” I mumble the last part, “Come back to mine, I don’t feel like going back on my own anyways.” 

I smile a little, unsure of where we stand on the whole admitting we’d grown pretty dependent on each other’s presence, front. He smiles back, twisting the door open and holding it for me as I slip under his arm. 

The car clicks unlocked and I settle into my seat. I reach over to push my seat belt in as Harry pulls his door shut and the car rumbles to a start. 

“Can’t believe Jules and T have been together so long.” He sighs as we pull out onto the main road. 

“Tell me about it,” I gaze out the window as rain dribbles lightly. “Feels like the year just went straight by.”

“They seem so happy still, like they’re still honeymooning,” Harry hums. 

“I remember when they just started going out in Uni, even then it was obvious they’d end up together.” 

“I like those kinds of people. The ones who make each other just completely themselves, ya know?” He glances over at me before turning back to the road. 

“Yeah...they’re proper soulmates aren’t they.” 

. . . . . 

“Okay but seriously, what the fuck is up with you and Harry?” Eleanor bursts out as soon as we reach the bar. We’ve been sent off to get the third round whilst the others stayed at our favourite booth of the pub we frequented. 

“Wait what?” I yell over the loud chatter of the pub, “What do you mean?” 

“You know what I mean!” She’s still waving her hand out for the bartender when she glances down at me again. “You’re tryna say you’re suddenly so close and nothing’s happened between you?” 

“We’re not that close.” I quip, “We’ve just talked a bit more lately, I guess.”

“And nothing’s happened?”  She raised a brow at me suspiciously. “You guys have left together every night for the past few weeks, just admit you have feelings for each other.” 

“No, nothing’s happened.” I sigh, unsure if I sound convincing or not. “We just live close and it’s too cold now to get the tube back so late, he’s just being nice. You know Harry...he’s like that with everyone.” 

Eleanor laughs a little, shaking her head. She places our order with the bartender when he makes his way to our side of the bar before turning back to me with her arms crossed. 

“He’s nice to everyone, but he’s not just being nice to you.” She smirks, “And he usually doesn't give just anybody his clothes.” 

She reaches out and rubs the fabric of my - Harrys - jacket between her thumb and forefinger. She looks up and quirks her brows up a little again. Before I can splutter out an explanation our drinks are being laid out on the counter beside us and Eleanor is pointing to the ones for me to carry and turning back to our booth. 

A surge of anxiety washes over me as I follow Eleanor back to the group. My breaths feel unsteady and I can’t help but dart my eyes to get a quick glance at Harry to see if he’s experiencing the same kind of interrogation. He seems fine though, laughing at something Nicks said. 

Soon we’re at the booth, slipping back into our seats and setting the drinks out in front of everyone. Harry’s eyes hover on me for a few seconds, brows raised a little in question. I smile and shake my head - everything’s fine. 

I don’t miss how Eleanor glances between us throughout the whole night. Especially not when a different two get up for the next round and Harry and I are pushed next to each other when they climb back into the available seats. Harry seems a little suspicious too. He clearly hasn’t noticed Eleanor’s strange behaviour - or doesn’t care - because he’s kept gazing down at me every now and then since we came back with drinks hours ago. When I stop looking up at him, nervous Eleanor might question me about his constant and slightly nervous glances when we’re alone, he reaches his hand under the tables and pulls mine into his lap. He squeezes our hands every now and then. He’s always a touchy, cuddly drunk. Normally it’s a bit more obvious; he’ll wrap his arms around one of us on the dance floor or lap his head on a shoulder, nothing too intimate. Just friendly. But now he’s stroking his thumb over my knuckles and tapping out the beat of the current song playing with his foot, his knee bumping mine. 

Julia and Theo are the first to go. Relief settles in me at the idea of not being the first two to leave for once. There’s no way Eleanor wouldn't’ve have noticed me and Harry sneaking the other a glance like we usually do to signal we’re ready to go, without some kind of distraction. 

“It was so lovely guys, feels like we haven’t just sat down and talked in so long!” Julia smiles, leaning into Theos side tiredly as they say their goodbyes. 

“I think I’m gonna head off too, it’s getting pretty late,” I smile, waiting for Harry to speak when Theo pipes up before him. 

“Livs, you want a lift?” Theo looks down at me. 

“Oh Olivia, that’s a good idea, you were just saying how it’s too cold for the tube.” Eleanor beams, smiling cheekily as she knows I’m the only one who’ll understand her subtle teasing. 

“Oh I-” I stutter before Harry’s squeezing my hand again and looks up at Theo. 

“I was actually gonna take her home, we’re only 10 minutes apart so it’s just easier.” He smiles politely, if I couldn’t feel his foot hooking over mine I’d believe he was just being nice and helping out a friend. 

“Yeah but you’re gonna stay a little while aren’t you?” Julia countered, “We’re pretty close, it’s fine really.” 

I nod, motioning to slide out of the booth. Harry lets me by, dropping my hand before anyone else could see. Julia, Theo and I say goodbye quickly and head out to the car park. As soon as we’re all strapped into their car, I pull out my phone and click Harry’s contact. 

Me 

Meet me at mine x

Harry 

Okay - what was that about? 

Me 

I’ll explain when u get here, just something w Eleanor

U might have been right about the jacket :/ 

Theo pulls up outside my flat and I jump out the car, thanking them quickly and waving them off. I climb the stairs of my building and click the keys in my door, pushing it open and kicking my shoes off the second I get in. After a fifteen minute frantic clean, the place is looking slightly better. There’s no time to perfect it as I hear my phone buzzing on the counter, a dorky photo of Harry in one of his infamous sweaters all sprawled out on the sofa and sticking his tongue out at me flashes the screen. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey, I’m just outside,” He talks softly, “What number are you?” 

“24, wait a sec and I’ll buzz you up.” 

I tread quickly to the button by my front door and let him up, hearing a quiet thanks over the phone and a “See you in a sec”  before the line goes dead. 

A minute later there’s a quiet knock at my door. I open it and see Harry, he looks a little more tired than when I left him forty minutes ago, he rubs his knuckles under his eyes and sighs softly. 

“Hey, come in.” I pull the door a little wider, stepping aside to let him inside. He walks past me, eyes watching the floor whilst I lock the up behind us and turn to face him. There's an awkward tension in the air that I haven’t experienced with Harry before, maybe a little that first night when I walked in on him in his kitchen, but nothing like this since we’ve gotten closer.  

“What happened?” He asks quietly, lifting his head with an uncertain look on his face.”You barely even looked at me. 

“I..” I stumble over what to say, I’ve been thinking I could just explain what Eleanor had said and have it done with but now I know we’re not going to be able to just leave this. If somebody’s going to find out about our arrangement then something would have to change. “Ellie thinks there’s something going on with us and she kept staring all night. I just, I couldn’t give her anything to be suspicious about.” 

“S’that what you mean about the jacket?” I nod, “What did she say?” 

“Just that we seemed closer, talk more I guess.” I sigh, “She didn’t believe anything I said.” 

“What did you say?” He presses. His tone is unclear, he seems less hurt now and more focussed on getting answers from me. 

“I just, I told her nothing’s happened.” I mumble, “She asked about us leaving together and I told her it was just because we lived close and it’s easier than the tube.” 

Harry bobs his head a little, taking in what I’ve just told him before laughing a little. He shakes his head and brings his palms up to his face, cursing under his breath. We stand in the quiet of my hallway before he speaks up again.

“Can we still do this?” That catches me off guard. Of course I knew we’d have to stop sometime when one of us started dating or a friend found out, I just hadn’t thought seriously about it happening anytime soon. “If she does find out, would that be the worst thing in the world?”

I shake my head, taking a step towards him to close the gap between us that’d been building my nerves throughout this whole exchange. 

“I don’t wanna stop hanging out.” I confess. Harry quirks his lips up a little, obviously relieved as he pulls me to his chest. He wraps his arms around my shoulders and rests his chin on my head as we breathe together for a moment. All the while we’ve been spending nights at his, there’s been no serious moments like this. We’ve opened up about vulnerable subjects and confessed more than we probably should have to each other, but never anything like this. There’d never been a  time I thought I could lose him. 

“What if something did happen.” He whispers into my hair. 

“Like what?” I murmur, voice a little muffled by his jacket. 

“Like..” He trails off a little and I’m pretty sure I hear him inhale a little and smell my hair. “Like what if I kissed you..or something.” 

“Or something?” My chest tightens, stomach fluttering suddenly. 

“Mmhhhmm,” He hums, “What would happen then?” 

“Eleanor would have a field day.” 

Harry laughs, shoulders shaking a little as he giggles above me. He loosens his grip on my and pushes away to create a little space to see me again. 

“Oh yeah?” He teases. 

“Uh huh,” I smile, “She’d never let us forget it if she knew she was right.” 

“And what would she be right about?” Harry lifts his hand to cup my face, tilting it slightly to make sure I’m staring right up at him. 

“..Something..happening.” I whisper, “Having feelings for eachother.” 

Harry grins, cheeks a soft rosy between the outside cold and the new blush. He strokes the pad of his thumb against my cheek and beams down at me. 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Uh huh…” 

“Really..she’d be right about that?” 

“I’m pretty sure-” 

Before I can tease anymore, Harry’s leaning down to press his lips against mine. I inhale sharply, closing my eyes and looping my arms around the back of his neck to hold us in place. His hand still holds my face firmly, thumb fluttering over my cheek a couple times before he pulls away and we both breathe in deep. 

“She’s definitely right.” He smiles, tone turning serious for a moment. “I really like you Olivia.” 

Butterflies surge through my stomach for the millionth time since he walked through my door. Blushing and happy, I tighten my arms and push my face back into his shoulder. 

“I like you too H….just a little bit.” 

“We don’t have to tell anyone, just want this to be ours for a little while.” I can hear the smile in his voice as he leans back down to whisper into my ear. 

“I want this to be ours forever.” I hum, words quiet and part of me hoping he doesn't hear my honest confession. 

A comforting quiet settles over us. I remember how tired I really am as I melt further into Harry’s body, breathing in the sweet cinnamon and vanilla scent. His breathing lulls me half to sleep as I let my eyes flutter shut and bury my head further into his neck. I feel him lifting me up as my body relaxes against his and I catch his last few words before I he’s shifting me into his arms and walking us up the stairs. 

“I could hold you ‘n listen to your voice all night long, love.” 

. . . . .    

“Oh my god!” Julia yells out, unravelling a long shawl from pristine white tissue paper. “Okay whoever got me, thank you so much!” 

She continues to squeal a little as he wraps it over her shoulders and presses the end to her nose, inhaling the lavender scent of her favourite designer brand. 

I’d only spent one Christmas with the whole group before but it was clear secret Santa was a bit of a tradition. Between the six of us we all had other friends, family and mostly, relationships. Organising a secret santa within our group just relieved some of the stress of present buying - and it was fun. 

We’re all sitting around Harry’s living room, it felt the homiest  to us after all. The kiddy advent calendar I bought for him hung by the fireplace reading December 21st. We’ve all finished our egg nogs, meaning it was officially present time. Over the next few days we’ll all be driving up and down the country to visit family, meaning today’s the last day most of us will be seeing each other. Harry had whined about me leaving, begging me to stay another day with him or better yet - spend christmas with his family up north. 

It was when I told him my own parents were spending the holidays visiting my sister and her kids in New York that his campaign started. We kissed almost three months ago now and have been on a slew of dates since. Between all the secret dinners out, brunches and farmers market trips, we haven’t found time for the talk. We had no official title. I’ve heard Harry refer to me as “m’girl” a couple times when I’ve wandered into the kitchen and overheard him on the phone to mitch, but nothing he’s told me himself. Despite this, he still insists I have to come and spend christmas with him and his close family. The idea of me hanging out with my young cousins and distant relatives apparently doesn’t satisfy him. 

“Are you serious!” Eleanor gasps as she unwraps her own present. Everyone had picked the perfect gifts for each other this year. In a pure coincidence, I ended up with Harry’s name after Nick made me trade because he’d already bought Julia’s present for her. I’ve been nervous about it all evening, I was sure he’d like it, a little too sure. That was the problem. One night, wrapped up in Harry’s bed, he’d recalled his latest tragedy to me: He’d taken shroom with Mitch on his last trip to LA and subsequently decided to skinny dip in the sea, losing his favourite mustard cords in the process. The only times we’ve seen everyone else has been with the both of us present and , to my knowledge, he hasn’t mentioned this to anyone else. The brown paper package that sat on the coffee table could invite a few more questions that I was prepared to answer. 

“Harry, you’re next!” Ellie grinned, hugging her present to her chest. 

Thanks to our early secrecy, there’s been no opportunity to tell our friends we were dating. Eleanor hasn’t stopped her constant questioning but we’ve kept up a pretty good front of excuses. It was still freezing out so it made sense for us both to climb into his car together at the end of the night. Nobody had to know we would be going home to the same house where we’d climb into the same heavenly bed and scramble eggs together in the morning. 

“I’m going, I’m going!” Harry laughs as Ellie tries to hurry him up, playing perfectly into her role as the youngest in our group. 

He pulls the first fold of paper back with his ringed fingers and immediately looks up at me as the mustard fabric shines up at him. He grins wide, beaming back at me before pulling the rest of the paper back and laying the trousers out in front of him. 

“No babe...where did you find them?” He’s running his fingers down the cord, in awe to have his favorite trousers back - or at least a copy. 

I don’t miss how Eleanor and Nick’s heads turn to share a look of shock as the pet name tumbles out. Before I can put anything together, Harry’s standing and leaning over the coffee table. He wraps his arms around my shoulders, pulling me into a hug and whispering his thanks in my ear. 

“Wait I dont - how did you know it was h-” Julia pipes up, before she can finish she’s cut off by the joint gasps of Nick and Ellie as Harry plants a wet kiss to my cheek - then my lips, and laughs at our friends reaction. 

“I knew it!” Ellie yells, pointing frantically between the two of us, Harry now having stepped over the table and come to sit next to me, pulling me into his side.

“What was-” Julia stammers, “Since when!” 

Harry’s eyes flutter down to my face. He giggles quietly when he catches on to my glare. This wasn’t exactly how I’d imagined the evening going. 

“Have you just been lying to my face for the past three months?” Ellie asks, crossing her arms over her chest and pouting her lips. 

“Five,” Harry mumbles, almost just as an inside joke for the both of us to enjoy. I slap my hand against his shoulder to shut him up but the damage is already done. 

“Five months!” Even Theo’s joining in now. “How didn’t we know?” 

“It didn’t start out like this honestly, we would’ve told you.” I try and explain, eager for this to quiet down so we could get to the roast dinner waiting for us in the oven. 

“How did it start?” Nick pokes, drawing Julia and Ellie’s attention as the same puzzled expressions adorn their faces. 

“Unimportant,” Harry brushes off, standing up to tower over us all and reaching a hand back for my own. “We better get dinner, we wouldn't want burnt potatoes.” 

Harry pulls on my arm gently, leading me out the room before anyone can object. 

In the kitchen, he picks up a tea towel and starts to check on the food, prodding at the parsnips. I roll my eyes as he ties his lavender apron around his waist and tentatively pulls the potato tray from the oven. 

“Harry..” I sigh, trying not to laugh as he turn to face me, spatula in hand. 

“Yes dear?”  

“What was that?” 

“Oh - You’ve gotta shimmy a little spatula under the potatoes or they’ll break apart-” 

“No, obviously not that,” He makes it so hard so stay stern, a giggle leaks out as he lifts a hand to rest on his hip. “Why did you do that?” 

“I want them to know.” drops his utensils, tone sincere as he takes another step towards me. “I want our friends to know how much I love you already, and you remember about my mustard cords so..it felt like the perfect time.” 

“What?” I stutter, looking up at him from where he’s pulled me into his chest. His hands rest on my waist, rings a little hold against my exposed skin. 

“You remembered the trousers I lost last month in LA -”

“You love me?” 

His eyes go a little wide, a smile peaking through as the sides of his mouth quirk upwards. Realising what he just said, he lifts a hand from my waist to rest it against my face and lean down a little. 

“Of course I love you.” He whispers, his voice a little croaky and I can see tiny droplets gathering in his eyes that make my heart flutter. 

“Love you too..” I mumble. I wipe a thumb over his cheek before pulling him down into a kiss. I feel his smile against my own, and everything’s perfect for just a second. 

“So you’ll come to Christmas with me?” 

. . . . .

Hiii I hate the ending :)

Tysm for reading !! pls leave a like or reblog (it rlly helps <3) if you enjoyed it x

[iwannaholdyoutight-]

The way to Emmeline and the story of how Pierrot fell in love with Columbine

Summary: a dead sunflower field,  a masquerade ball and a love spell. Witch!H with Fairy!reader. 

Word count: around 6k

A/N: This is the first part of my contribuation to @stellarboystyles 3 year celebration. My thrope is masquerade ball.. Btw this is witch!harry with fairy!reader that is an OC because I ended up picturing her in certein way and it became part of the plot (the color of her hair). But this is a very soft story that made me feel very soft while creating this magic world. 

Somewhere, right at the rainbows end, you will find yourself walking through the colorful path to Emmeline. 

A land where woodland creatures could live without fear of the human race. You see... There was a time where humans and magical beings lived together. But prejudice and fear of the unknown and powerful made people start to hurt those with glitter blood. 

That’s when all those different creatures ran away  and ended up together. 

As soon as you find yourself in Emmeline, you will find a little cottage made out of wood. That’s where all the witches and warlocks live, or, Rhiannon’s daughters and sons, as they like to call themselves. For you to be a witch, you have to be born from a family of witches or fall in love with one. Then a bit of their power will pass to you. 

Most witches prefer a life of a Gypsy, never stopping in one place. But the few who like to have a place to call home, they choose Emmeline. 

If you walk  further into the woods you will find yourself meeting the ones who are born from nature: the fairies. 

There are different types of fairies: the ones who are born from flowers, others are born from mushrooms and others from butterflies. 

The ones who germinated from a seed will have the gift of nature and poetry. They can grow and heal plants and turn anything into something beautiful. They are always colorful. Nature is their mother, so they all consider each other sister. 

The ones who are born from mushrooms, have the power of colors and creativity. Music and dancing are always present in their life. Also, they make a l good tea that will make you see the world even prettier and feel like every single thing is more than it meets the eye. 

And, last but not least, there are the ones who are born from a cocoon, kindly called the butterfly daughters. They can fly and that is the reason why they never actually are around.

But that night they were all going to be together because of the masquerade ball in celebration of the magic new year: October 31st, halloween night They celebrate their union, drink and dance all night with enchanted masks that make people not see them and yes the character they decided to dress as. It’s a night of love and friendship because there is no bad blood between fairies and witches.

Except two. 

“OUCH DO YOU HAVE TO BE SUCH AN ASS?” Screamed the sweet yet scary voice of Maya that was floating  across the room without anyone to help her 

“Well you said you needed a witch to help you float the yellow lights to the ceiling… I have no problem if you have no power” 

Harry was lying on the floor, enjoying the view of the fairy, using his hands to make her move around the ceiling, together with the little golden stars. Her pink curly hair was all around, with gigant brown eyes staring at him with horror. 

“I went to Stevie asking for help because I DO have fairy powers that I was born with it” 

And with that she shut Harry’s smile down. Him and Maya were enemies at first sight. She was raised in Emmeline, born from a beautiful pink gardenia that matches her hair. Raised together with all the flowerchilds and Harry was a witch, a very resentful one when it comes to the matter that he wasn’t a “pure blood”: back in the 1500s he kissed a witch during a ball and her power was transferred during the kiss, she didn’t want to be an immortal anymore. But it wasn’t till the end of the millenium - the year was 1994- that Harry found the Emmelime city. Now he was one of Rhiannon’s sons and was very close to one of the eldest witches: Stevie. 

She didn’t have a problem with him, only knowing him by name and by the enamored  whispers from everyone: “he is british”, “he has green eyes”, “he is so pretty you should go by his little house, he is very receptive”. But it was only his third day in the little village when he ruined one of her plants while high thanks to the tea the mushroom a fairy gave him. He fell off the tree right on top of the new plantation of sunflowers she was rising with her power: her first BIG plantation. 

Harry tried for days to apologize: with food, with music, with potions that would make her feel all glittery inside. And her answer was always the same: can you make my sunflowers grown again? And sadly the answer was always no. 

26 years later he sort of learned how to hate her - even if he always thought she was beautiful and kind, she was never nice to him and it burned his feelings. Being rejected from all the clans his whole witch life because he wasn’t a “pure” one made him resentful. 

And Maya was never able to plant sunflowers again. Every spell, every potion, every prayer. She even tried to plant the seeds with the help of her sister Blanca - a sunflower child: but no success. 

So she hated him with all of her pink glittery heart. 

Harry got lost daydreaming about their story of hate at first sight from Mayas point of view that he forgot about the girl so he just shook his left hand in a circle then closed his fingers in a fist and gave a little whistle and the fairy fell to the ground. 

“Did you have to be so vile? I could have died” 

“You’re an immortal, darling, you can’t die” 

“I could have been hurt and then I would miss the ball” 

“I’m not that heartless, I would make you a potion to fix whatever bone you had broken” he looked at the girl sitting on the floor with a frown in her face “you need any help getting up?” Harry asked with such a sweet voice she almost couldn’t believe he could be so... soft.

“I can get up... what I need is for you to be serious for once in your life and put those damn starry lights I made floating all around otherwise I’ll…” 

“You’ll what...call my mom? She has been dead for over 500 years. But sure be my guess she is buried in the small cemetery from my hometown” 

“You know what? Fuck you” 

She was storming off the gigantic room the masquerade ball would be taking place later tonight when he called her name, the pink haired girl looked back at the the tall man wearing a white tunic with Indian pants. He gave a small smile, snapping his fingers and in less than 5 seconds all the lights she had on the floor were up in the ceiling, making it look like it was a very starry night, just like the painting. 

Giving him a nod she left the place and he whispered to himself “if I could only plant those sunflowers with a snap of my fingers” 

................................................................................................................................

“And the worst part, Blanca, is that he just made me fall on the ground just like he fell all those years ago over my sunflowers”

Blanca was sitting down on her bed, in her very white room with flowers and glittery light everywhere, from the window she could see the butterflies dancing… those gossip motherfuckers, they wanted to hear more about Emmeline’s favorite drama: Harry and Maya. There was a big bet about when they were going to realise they were actually in love with each other.

“Don’t you think you are a bit too resentful towards him?” she asked while her pink haired friend was fusing over the butterflies, trying to shoo them out of the window “I mean… everybody is in love with Harry, all the fairies all the witches are in love with them, I know a lot of them that always tried to put a love charm on him...and never works.

“That only proves my theory that he doesn’t have a heart”

“Or his heart is already filled with love for someone else, you know how potions and charms work: it can only work if the said person has the soul free to be enveloped by the words of the spell or the mixture of a potion” 

“And how do you know so much about witchcraft, miss Blanca?” Said Maya with a flirty tone, already knowing the answer but she would give ANYTHING to change the conversation and not have to talk about no longer.

“You know I’m dating Florence, that witch that also came from London”

Florence got to Emmeline just a few years ago, together with a few friends. She was always kind and sweet, Maya liked her very much. Actually, if the blond girl didn’t share such a bond with Harry - they were very close - Maya knew she would always be around her little cottage, because she loved how it was full of sunflowers, the only plant she can’t create. 

“She is very nice, are you guys going to dress up like a couple for the ball?”

“Of course we will… I’m going to be a witch and she is going to dress up like a fairy”

“I can’t believe you guys are going to do this… so cliche”

“Come on… we’re cute” Blanca said with a wink of her eye and a bashful smile “I can’t wait to experiment the power she holds, she is sweet but you know… she has like… a way… sweet yet dominant” Blanca was laying down on the the bed, looking like she was remembering a very private memory “you know we actually we are going to be each other in everything today? Even inside the bedroom”

“God… I miss sex” 

“It’s been what… 5 years? The last one was the butterfly fairy, the french one, right?”

“Yeah… he was a attentive lover but it just wasn’t working, he would come here once in a while and we would fuck, it was good, but then I just wasn’t that much into him. I never was, actually, just an easy fuck”

“I think you are too much of a kinky fairy to be with another fairy”

“Yeah but most of other witches have already found their partner and I’m not the one to intrude in one’s relationship”

“I know someone who is willing and if the rumors are true… is a very very very kind and passionate lover, even if it’s just a one night stand”

“Don’t start, Blanca” Maya was back on her feet, looking down at her best friend. “I’m very happy for you and Florence but I do not wish to be in a relationship with another witch, especially if the other witch is… him”

“I don’t know how do you are almost 80 and you still haven’t learn that we do not have a power over what the destiny chooses for us, you could just admit you have feeling for him”

“I do… feelings of hatred. He destroyed my sunflowers”

And with that Blanca gave up helping her friend, knowing that she had to go to the one person that knew of their secret. She couldn’t talk about her knowledge on the matter, so she just had one thing left to ask: “so… what is your costume for the ball?”

Maya gave her a happy and excited smile and started blabbering about her outfit.

At the same time they were having this conversation, just about 1 mile away from them, Harry was sitting in a dark room, full of stones and plants,with candles laying in every single surface, being the only thing lighting up the room. He was playing with a very purple crystal ball, looking at the images that showed up. Ever since he got his first one, back in his early days of witchcraft, a gift from the woman who gave him her powers (till the day of her death she taught him everything about being a witch). The first thing she gave him the purple rounded stone, she told him that was the colors of his soul and whatever he saw in there was what his soul was longing to have. And Harry always saw, one way or another, the color pink in everything and also a lot of sunflowers. Pink like her hair, sunflower like the plantation he destroyed. He knew he had some sort of mission with her. 

Playing with the ball in his hands, he looked at his lap, where his familiar sat, a cute little guinea pig called Betsy. It was a welcome home from Stevie the moment he got into Emmeline. 

“What is it, Betsy?” she was leaning against the magic artefact “do you want me to make it work?” a little sound… “yes”.

With that, he held the ball with one hand, the other getting one of his plants, to first clear the energy, then he looked at the immensity of the purple before closing his eyes, concentrating. Imagining a white light involving him, from the tip of his toes to his hair. When he felt like his own soul was levitating, opening his eyes he said the words: “aperi pectore expuli, ostendere animae meae”.

Open my heart, show me my soul. 

With those words a little purple fog started to leak from the magic artifact, making his dark room glow like the twilight sky during spring, the smell of tulips reaching his senses. Suddenly he saw what he always did: the forest, the flowers, the pink hair, a sunflower field (with flowers that weren’t dead). Normally the vision ended here but this time the fog only got more intense, he felt like his body was lifting, flying over the sky, looking at the happening from the last year. He could feel his own head spinning, trying to make him go deeper and deeper inside his own soul. 

There was a path going down, he knew what it meant: he needed to dig deeper inside his own mind. The path was his own story, his own thoughts. His body was separating himself for his spirit, letting him move freely. That was the moment Harry was able to see: a painting of Pierrot and Columbine dancing around, together, in a masquerade ball. 

Pulling himself from the immersive spell he looked at Betsy and told her one single thing: “I need Stevie here. Now”

................................................................................................................................

The blonde woman was sitting next to a tree, watching the river reflect the midday sunlight, looking like small diamonds. She stills remembers the time mermaids were alive, before humanity decided that there was no worth in being good, letting the powerful take over everywhere, losing the essence the universe - so kindly - gave them. She is one of the oldest witches from human kind, she remembers everything and even if she couldn’t get old, she put a spell on her, so she could look older than most of her little forest town. 

Mother the woods, some would call her. But, the true story was that her heart was always too big, there was always room for another person to be apart of her family. But, she could admit she had a few of them closest to her heart. Like Harry, he looked so lost when he finally found the way to Emmeline. He didn’t have anyone for him, so she decided to be that person. That’s why the moment Betsy came looking for her she just ran to him, she knew he needed her, and what he told her made Stevie so happy: his soul was finally ready for the journey, and it was all happening tonight.

“Did you send for us?” she heard the sweet voice of Blanca, walking hand in hand with her girlfriend, next to a black cat named Luna, Stevie’s familiar.

“Yes, I think it’s time”

“Do you think they are ready?”

“Harry had a vision while questioning the mirror of the soul,  he saw Pierrot and Columbine. Blanca, darling, what is the costume Maya is planning for tonight?”

She looked at the girl, who looked paler than usual:

“She's going as Columbine. A white dress with little black hearts made out of glitter”

“And I was helping Harry making his for week now… you two can guess what he’s going as”

“Pierrot” they both said in unison.

“But, Stevie, isn’t the end of this tale sad… like, they don’t end up together?” questioned Florence.

“No, the true story, the one from the italian Commedia dell’arte, they end up together. But that’s not what I’m talking about… they are more connected than ever, Harry’s visions are getting more clear. How is Maya with her powers?”

“She still can grown those sunflowers”

“For someone so smart, she is quite stupid if she doesn’t know they both have a part of each other souls. Harry’s familiar also has a necessity to always go after her, sometimes when she is growing flowers around her house and plants start to grow near him…” 

“What spell are we going to use?”  

“I know just the right spell,” said the older woman. 

................................................................................................................................

She could see the lights and the beams. Everything was shining so bright. Right at the entrance of the ball there was a sign: “may the masks show your true essence” with a potion underneath. 

That sounds like mushroom fairies. Not today. 

“Don’t you look beautiful” she heard a melodic voice 

“Florence you look so pretty as a fairy” 

“And you look beautiful as a pantomime character” 

“Did you know it’s my favorite tale?” 

“Why is that” 

“The Pierrot crying because he is in love with Columbine in the middle of the crowd and she is able to sense his pain from far away… it just makes me believe in love. You know? One soul for everybody” 

“Aren’t you romantic,” Florence said while using her hands to fix and friends pink hair. While doing so she started to say the words Stevie told her to, the words that would make the powerful spell work. 

“You know, if there is one single  truth about soulmates: if magic strikes maybe once or maybe twice you have to hold onto it. Because if it’s in the tarot and in the stars, hiding your soul from what it seeks makes you think that love is, in essence, its opposite, which is hate. So, for tonight, I wish for as long as you are Columbine for your soul to outshine your tour thoughts and for you to feel it for everything you always did but couldn’t admit, ille amor consumit te caput ad pollicem”

Let the love consume you from head to toe 

“Did you just casted a spell on me, Flo?” 

“Maybe… maybe not. Maybe won’t work if you don’t love anyone” 

“Well… it’s going to fail but nice little verse” 

And with that Maya walked towards the middle of the ballroom, looking at the little floating stars, appreciating the vast colors of the place, pink and blue pastel colors, glitter and the faint smell of lavender. 

Suddenly she felt like a rush going through her body, an unfamiliar feeling setting in her stomach, that’s when she felt warm hands on her back: 

“So the Pierrot is no longer crying in the middle of the crowd. Who are you, my little Columbine?” 

When she turned around she saw the same green eyes she spent so much time thinking about and hating how it made her feel uneasy. But, now, under the fake stars and lights, everything felt different. With his black and white suit and a glittery make up - a little draw of a black tear down his left cheek, adoring the constellation of his freckles. 

She knew his name, she knew his smell, she knew of their story. But there was something in the way her heart was beating so loudly… there was something different. Like she couldn’t control. Not anymore. 

And she didn’t even know if she wanted to, either. 

“Hello, dear Pierrot, how are you on this fine evening?” 

“Better now I found a pair so I’m not the lonely Pierrot. And how are you, little Maya . Or should I call you Columbine?” 

“Call me Columbine for tonight we aren’t a witch and a fairy who share feelings of hate. We are Pierrot and Columbine. And they are in love” 

In the middle of the ballroom, filled with so much laughter and joy, he was the same Harry dressed as Pierrot, looking at Maya, like it was the first time. 

“It’s close to midnight, will you join me as my partner for the new year dance?” 

She took his hand. Yes. 

The New Years dance was the way Emmeline lives the joy and hope of a new year. Instead of a countdown, Stevie would sing for them for the next 3 minutes, while they went around being free and loving every second of it. Normally that was the part Maya liked the less, because most of her friends and sisters had significant others. So she was always alone. 

When the subtle sound of the harp began, they started to move. The big clock on the wall, showing the position of the universe with its stars, planets, moons and even black holes, was counting down the seconds to the new year. The world was spinning, everybody was moving around the Pierrot and the Columbine, but, inside their eyes there were only them and the stars. 

With bodies moving in synchrony Harry was caught in thoughts of forever, because now, it was clear. He always had this pull towards her. She is his forever and he could only hope his love wouldn’t pass as unrequited. He could not survive this. 

If she wanted to, he would make Maya his. His little baby, his fairy, his pink little love. With her shining glory and his red essence. They would be perfect for one another. If she could only see this. 

She looked at the clock and then back at Harry, she was feeling nervous but also she had never felt so calm. In his warm body Maya felt engaged by a protection spell and nothing could ever hurt her. But, what changed so suddenly? They were fighting just this morning and now she was clinging to his body. The love spell had worked. She needed to find Florence and ask for it to be reversed, it was wrong, she shouldn’t feel what she was feeling. Because, if the spell worked that meant they were each other’s mirror. And she didn’t do well with that perspective. In that moment she saw the time: 20 seconds to a new year. The song was ending. But a new phase was beginning. 

“It’s almost midnight” 

“True” he told her while playing with her hair “you know… humans have a tradition” oh “and they kiss when the clock strikes midnight. And I was wondering… if I could kiss you” 

She was hypnotized by his smell, his sweet honeyed voice. By his eyes that were always so green that made her shy. He was the closest thing to perfection and now it just made sense why so many witches and fairies had their way with him. Why so many tried to cast a spell on him. Why so many tried to be what she always was. 

10 seconds now 

“If we kiss I have this feeling that everything is going to change” 

“Aren’t changes good?”

9 seconds 

“I want to kiss you but I’m afraid of what will I feel” 

8 seconds 

“Whatever you feel is fine as long as is with me and only me” 

7 seconds 

“You can kiss me” 

With his thumb caressing under her eye she felt like he was trying to call me her down 

6 seconds 

“Protecto” he whispered and out of nowhere he enveloped then in a purple glittery cocoon. He was making her feel comfortable. 

5 seconds 

“You are the most fascinating creature I have ever met in my 500 years of life upon this earth” 

4 seconds 

“And you are the most annoying one” 

3 seconds 

“Aren’t you a romantic 

2 seconds 

He got closer, his nose touching Maya’s. The glitter cocoon spinning around them 

1 second

There was no going back and she didn’t want to. 

“Happy New Year, my pink dove” and he kissed her. 

Maya has had her fair share of kisses but nothing ever felt like the feeling of him. Sweet and hungry. A perfect compilation of opposites. The caress of his tongue was welcomed with joy, his hands touching her back, holding her waist, holding so close to him, like she could vanish at any second now. She was feeling his lucious curls, so long and so so soft that someone would believe he an actual prince, not a witch. 

With two pecks to her lips he let her go, opening his eyes, heart beating so strong and holding her gaze that was already waiting for him. 

During the kiss someone had broken their cocoon and now they both had glitter all over them, but neither was actually caring. They were seeing each other for the very first time. A new year, indeed. 

“Would you care to miss the party?” Harry asked “I made blueberry cake and I would love for you to meet Betsy”

“We are eternal, we have many new years to live, lead the way” holding her hand, he walked her towards the exit, turning around only to find Stevie, who gave hum a little wink with her left eye. Of course she was in the middle of this. He knew it was a love spell that made them loose their strings and prinde, finally admiting the true behind their hearts. That was the reason he wanted to get her in a quiet place, if they were going to do this, he wanted to know she was his, beyond any spell or trick. He needed to know if she loved with at least an ounce of what he felt. 

The walk was quiet, the full moon was shinning so he didn’t felt the need to cast a light spell. The woods were talking, the wind blowing aganist the trees and the animals, they were happy. 

“Is it true you can talk to plants?” he asked her

“Yeah, it’s one of my powers... why?”

“I think the nature is happy today, something in my hearts tells me so, but I hold no power over nature beyond what was given to me” Harry was feeling shy, his curiosity was getting the best of him and he was afraid she would judge him

“Do you want me to talk to some of plants?” nodding his head he took her hand to a bloodflower “you know, this one atracks butterfly the most” she told him

Letting go of his hand she sat on the flor, putting both of her hands on the floor, feeling the soil, trying to see if the flower was awake and if it wanted to talk.

She was awake but she was a bit dry 

“Harry before I talk to her, can you put a bit of water on it” she called him Harry, not Pierrot, the spell was faiding and he could only hope their newfound love didn’t fade aswell.

With a snap of his fingers a little cloud was made over the flower, raining a little bit, then vanishing with the wind. 

“Hello, are you feeling better now?” Maya asked with a sweet voice, the plant opened more showing its petals as a way to thank the couple.

“How do you actually comunicate with them? Like you ear their thoughts?”

“No, I feel what they feel, and she feels safe here with us. Come one, put your hands here and try to focus with your heart and mind”

“I’m not a fairy”

“Just try, come one. Sometimes I can pronouse witches spells and actually works and I don’t even know why. So with his left hand he carressed the petal but never taking his mind of the pink haired girl and he felt his heart race at the same time he felt like the little red and orange plant was trying to show him something.

“My heart is beating so loud... what does that mean when you touch a flower and you feel this?”

“Love”

................................................................................................................................

After saying goobye to the flower, walking hand in hand, they got to Harry’s little cabin. Made out of woods it had a small living room with a little couch, books everywhere, stones, herbs, charms. Betsy was nowhere to be seen, maybe she wanted to give them privacy. The dark walls were contrasting the pink of her hair but she looked like... home. Like she belonged there. 

Turning around to look at Harry she felt this need to kiss him, she was feeling such a strong love for him, she couldn’t hide or pretend anymore, so she want for it. With her hand pulling him towards her, Maya kissed him.

This time with hunger. This time with power. This time to hold onto him in the most intimate ways. 

With their height difference being so big, Harry helped her to get on the couch and started to assault her neck. With his hands carresing her neck and her hips. 

“Can I touch you” he asked her

“Please” So that’s what he did. Kissing her and letting his hands explore her like the most searched treasure map , slowing coming closer to her breasts, first touching her lighting, then gripping with a strong yet caring hold. Feeling her, trying to read her body. When his fingers reached her nipples he lost it, kissing her neck with intent, marking her, showing her this was it. 

“Take off my clothes, please, please” she said in a fant voice, too caugh up with pleasure. So that’s what he did, with his hands he took everysingle piece of clothing they both were wearing. Using his streight to take her to his bedroom.

Maya wanted to analyse every little thing about his home, but at that moment, with his lips making a long waited jorney across her body, she knew she had to to this in the morning.

He kissed, he touched her. She whispered how much she wanted them. He gave her anything and everything. Kissing her tights, her most private parts, using his tongue, and his fingers, using anything to make her shiver to make her want him even more. 

When they were finally one, Maya lost a bit of her control over her powers making petals of the same flower they talked earlier fall over them in a shower of love and desire, Harry loved that he made her feel like that so he only encraised his powerfull movements. 

In that moment that was only a verb they could conjugate: to love. 

................................................................................................................................

The sun is almost up, the spell was vanishing, they were no longer Pierrot and Columbine. They were Harry and Maya. 

“Hey, Harry... I think I should go back to my place?” 

“Won’t you stay? We can have breakfast together” 

“Why should I?vWe can’t be Pierrot and Columbine forever” 

“But we can be Harry and Maya” 

She looked sad, she knew about the spell. 

“But the thing is... we’re not”  he looked at her with confused green orbs. So she told him about the words Florence told her.

“You know... that spell does not change a thing, because it only made us say and do what we always wanted to do” he took her hands, playing with her fingers, adoring her white glittery nail polish, trying to keep everything memorized because he knew she was leaving. His visions were wrong, she wouldn’t stay “but if you wanna leave, it’s okay. You can go back to hate me but I won’t hate you, well, I won’t pretend that I hate you when the truth is I love you with my hole soul” 

She was quiet, looking around his room. Trying to keep something with her when she left but her legs weren’t working. The way he had deep red walls and paitings from his many years of life upen the earth. The deep black sating sheats and the beautiful naked man adorning the dark satin. And when she looked at him she saw his light, his golden light. She was seeing his aura. That was a power witches held, so why she was seeing his aura. 

“You know, even your aura is pink”

“And yours is gold” 

Harry understood at that second that there was no going back. They were connected now. One can only see the aura of their true love.She could leave and he would hurt forever for part of him would leave with her. So he decided to try to get her to stay. 

“You know, sometimes I daydream that you come into my room and just lay down next to me. And I always feel so happy about it. Because if you ever come and visit me, at any given time, I would let you. I just want you in my life, I have this pull towards you. I just need to get to know you.”

He paused se he could put her messy hair behind her left ear

“When I fell over you sunflowers I felt terrible. Because not only I made you hate me, I thought I lost the chance to be with you. But, if everything we went through is because now we’re slowly walking, with no rush, to a path full of love. I won’t ever hate you. I will always cherish you. Because if you want me, truly want me, let me know, because when it comes to me I just need to tell you that you will have in me a friend, a lover,  even a personal brewer when you want some nice potion to make you feel dangly inside”  

“You don’t understand. I want to be with you, but how can you be the one to match my soul if you killed one of the things I love the most:” 

The sunflowers. It the end it would always be about those flowers. And Harry will hate himself every second of the day for the rest of eternity if he doesn’t fix it 

“Will you every give me another chance? Just one? Can’t you see how we fit? You don’t find this anywhere, damn it, it’s so rare for fairies and witches to be made for one another but when they do... it’s perfect. Look and Blanca and Florence. You have my heart in your hands, every piece of it, even the parts I don’t even know about. It’s you, it’s you you you. Everything is for you. Everything is about you” 

She was quiet, but she was still holding his hands. 

“I will spend the rest of eternity with you trying to grow sunflowers, they won’t be kept in our memory because we will plant new seeds from our love. One chance. Just one chance” 

Maya got closer, touching his forehead with her, her eyes golden from the sun that was entering the room from its window

“So... what changes?”

““Everything’s still the same, nothing changes. Except now, I get to hold you, and kiss you, and show you much I love you.”

With that she kissed him, and they kissed till the sun was high in the sky. With her on top they were moving together in the most intimate dance one could ever share. They were one and while they were kissing and making love to one another pink and gold mixed together, healing their pass and plating new seeds for future filled with love. 

Maya was the first one to wake up, with Harry’s familiar on top of her, asking for attention: 

“Hey, Betsy, what is it?” 

The little animal went to the window, so she followed and when she saw it, she couldn’t believe it: 

Sunflowers. Everywhere. 

She didn’t even knew she was crying till she saw a tattooed hand holding her face: 

“My dove, why are you crying” 

“The sunflowers. We made them” 

“You finally gave your sunflowers” 

She gave him a small kiss 

“Our sunflowers, my love. Our sunflowers” 

 THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING. DON’T FORGET TO REBLOG AND TALK TO BE ABOUT IT AND READ ALL THE OTHER FICS FROM THE CELEBRATION AND GO ON AND GIVE @stellarboystyles CONGRATULATIONS

ps: the last part was not prof read, sorry...

[baggochipps]

‘Everything’s still the same, nothing changes. Except now, I get to hold you and kiss you, and show you much I love you.”

AN: Hello Readersss and @stellarboystyles, this is my first piece that I’ve ever posted of mine and for that I’d like to thank @stellarboystyles for creating a great way for newbies like me to get our writing out there and gain recognition(experienced writings as well🥰). I am entering this challenge with a friends to lovers piece so yeah I had fun with this. Now without further ado I present to you beautiful people:

‘Our moment’

Ever since you and Harry have been sat in front of one another at the age of 5, you guys have been inseparable. You guys went through what friends go through of course; the arguments and the infamous drift between friends due to the want to fit in and society’s placements, however as soon as y’all got over that and realized that society’s standards shouldn’t be the blueprint to life, you both began strengthening the bond between the two of you in high school despite the fact that Harry, to everyone, was the charming jock and you were only merely thought.

You both still continued to go on though ignoring the wandering eyes and the gasps of air from stuck up popular kids when they saw you both crackling in the hall at the jokes you’ve both shot at each other and the times when you both were caught skipping school together. So by the time you and Harry were at the end of senior year and prom was just a few hours away, Harry planned to go to prom just to hang with those he more than likely won’t ever speak too again and then you would both find yourselves at the end of that night in his car, but as all plans go, it didn’t fail, but it definitely wasn’t what you expected. Yes, you guys left. Yes, you’ve got to hangout, but he leaned in and you kissed him only to laugh it off and never speak of it or bring it up ever again because you’ve already told yourself it was the alcohol you’ve both consumed prior to getting in the car with him, but Harry couldn’t help, but remember your soft pinkish lips against his as he lays down only to get lost in the sight of his ceiling on restless nights. You didn’t know that though because when you asked him he said he didn’t remember that night at all, you laughing it off after that.

Even after that event, you were both officially back to together, as friends. Harry was there for you through the booboos, the mood swings, and family troubles as you were for him, but as things began to get back to the way things were, You were there for the endless amount of girls that he talked to you about even after you’ve expressed that you didn’t wish to hear about his sexapades that left envy in your heart, you were there for his darkest moments and he was there for yours especially when you called him over late at night to hold you because you’ve gave all of yourself away to someone who didn’t deserve any of you.

You guys carried each other through the end of high school to sophomore year of college avoiding another recap of high school prom again and to say it was easy would not be the truth. Along the way there were many college parties or days alone that got cut short due to one look, one bite of the lip and or one lengthy staring contest that would’ve resulted in jeopardizing a great friendship. Conversations of what could be if you and him decided to take that leap surfaced. All in all you’ve both managed to not take it to that point despite the fact that you and Harry shared a room and a very strong bond.

“Har, I don’t think I wanna go to that party tonight.” You sigh as you reminisce about what your mom talked to you about a few days ago, the word ‘separation’ drowning your thoughts. You wanted your parents to be happy, but to think that you had it all wrong, they weren’t always as happy as you thought, makes you question everything.

Harry stopped his search for an shirt just to knell beside your bed and rub your back. You lean into his touch and continue to look at the wall in front of you.

“Who would I get drunk and make Trevor uncomfortable with,” He says as a smile begins forming upon his lips. “ You know, I can’t do that with anyone else. You remember that Annalisa bit ?”

The “Annalisa bit” occurred when You were sick, which doesn’t happen often, and making it to class and college parties wasn’t really an option so Harry went to seek an understudy and Annalisa was his pick. “I found her in the tub of the bathroom asleep after one winecooler” He told you once he got back before plopping right beside you and letting it be known that if you can’t make it too a party he won’t go either because it just wasn’t the same without you.

You didn’t respond yet as you were looking for the strength to just get up “ Or we can always watch a gameplay or a movie or whatever until we feel better, yeah ?” Harry says patiently waiting for your answer. You turn to meet Harry’s emerald green eyes,furrowed brows and small smile in the dimly lit room. Harry searched your eyes as you searched his until you part your lips to speak with a worn expression on your face with a warming smile upon your lips.

“Can we just stay ?” You ask cautiously to which he nods. It takes only a second for Harry to get up and search for a few snacks to pair with some drinks he saved for occasions like these. He never believed in watching a movie without snacks and neither did you. With the snacks in his hand, he goes to sit them on the floor for easy access to then catch with your head bowed as you play with your fingers.

“What’s on your mind, bug ?” He asks, going over to knell beside you again.

“Nothing. Just glad you’re by my side.” Your eyebrows furrow and your eyes get watery. Harry’s faces drops as he notices yours contorting. You clear your throat to speak again until you’re interrupted by his soft voice.

“Come ‘ere.” He gets up and pulls you into an embrace and as though your face against his chest was a trigger you find yourself sobbing.

You couldn’t think about anything except for that day, you felt like you couldn’t even function that day. Harry walked in on you just sitting on the edge of your bed with confusion clouding your mind. The last time you’ve talked to your parents they seemed fine, happier.

Harry rubs your back gently holding you tight enough that you could hear his heart beat and every breathe he takes. It’s almost soothing only you can’t stop thinking about your parents. Harry knew that and it was breaking his heart. He placed a kiss to your forehead as his eyes began to water, that familiar feeling coming about as he remembers the first time he heard his parents were separating.

“I don’t know how I didn’t figure it out,” You choke out and remove your head from under Harry’s chin to look up at him. “I wish I was enough to keep them together.”

“Hey, hey,” Harry says. He takes your face in his hands .”You will always be their girl.”

“But why ?,” you say in a despondent tone. “Why would they just end it ?” His heart sinks again for the hundredth time.” I knew their relationship wasn’t perfect, but why ?”

He hated this so much. He hated to see you look so defeated because you were always so strong despite what you went through, but as though this situation drained all the energy you had, your eyes are low and puffy, and your posture is no longer accentuating confident anymore. He lets the tears that he’s tried to repress fall.

“Maybe they just don’t feel the same way they did around each other anymore ,” Harry speaks honestly, “ When you’re around someone that you love, their smile brightens your day, their laugh is contagious, but even when their not so bubbly or warm you want to experience that with them and the only thing you want to change about the experience is how they felt. I’m sure they had similar feelings towards one another, but feelings fade.” You could only nod as more tears fall and your heart sinks. You knew what he was saying was right, things change and as much you didn’t want things change, things will always change with or without you.

You pull Harry into a tight hug and he can’t help, but hug you just as tight. “Thank you, Harry.”

“Im here, bug.” Harry says. It take a few moments for you both to let go and get ready for the movie. Coraline is always the go-to movie you’d watch when you’d be going through something or nothing, it is definitely your favorite and Harry didn’t mind watching it because of that same reason.

As the movie played, the energy in the room began to settle, you stealing a few glances at Harry while he steals some at you. Neither of you can stop what Harry said just a few moments ago about your parents from flooding his and your mind. As those words flew from his mouth he felt so much emotion behind it as he looked in your eyes and he just knew you felt it too which you did, however anxiety consumed you. You wished to experience him as yours just as much as he did, but your worst fear is losing your best friend so never experiencing Harry in a different light is something you’ve come to terms with. Pulling you out of your thoughts, Harry leans towards you to get your attention.

“Shh you’re making me miss my favorite part.” You lightly push his face away as a light laugh erupts from your mouth.

“The part you’ve seen a million times,” Harry says taking your hand in his, a pout forming upon his lips,” I just want to lay in your lap.”

This was what watching a movie with H is for you and in all honesty it only made you love him more because that’s how he is, always distracting you despite the fact that all you wanted to do was watch the movie. You sigh and clear your lap of your phone for him to lay down.

“Are you happy now ?” You ask as you look down at a very content Harry Styles with his prominent dimples. He nods and focuses on the movie once again.

When the movie finally reaches the end your eyes feel as heavy as Harry’s. Harry raises his head from your lap to look at you.” Feeling any better, bug ?” He asks to which you nod and take in his reassuring smile.

“I’m okay, H, you could head to bed. I might just watch this again.”

“Well I can always stay up with you.”

“No. I just want to say thank. You have been there through everything and I’m sorry if this brought up anything from when your parents were going through it. I just think if I figured this out before they told me I might’ve been able to accept this better,” you shake off the haunting thought before continuing ,” either way, thank you.”

” I will always be there no matter what. You will never have to endure anything alone, y/n y/l/n.” He kisses the top of your head and positions you in between his legs. He pulls you to his chest and lets you lean against him while you shut your eyes.

“When we were young you were such a fashionista, man, with your rainbow shorts and off brand snea-“, you rise up from his chest and turn around swiftly to meet his eyes in amazement. “ You know how much those sneakers meant to me, Styles. Don’t get beat up.”

“Oh ? so you think you could beat me up ?” He returns your expression, straightening his posture. You give him challenging look.

“Oh for fu- we were only playing !” He exclaims. “ And you hit me hard-“ you add.

“And a punch to the gut was your way of solving it, I know.” He laughs aloud at the memory for a moment while you break into a smile. Silence surrounds you both as you and Harry keep your eyes on each other, the smiles fading.

Harry always loved you and the day he pressed his lips against yours only for you to lean into it, you’ve confirmed that you’ve felt the same way. Your tongues brushed each other with such ease and passion, but as soon as you both let go you became hesitant about every move you’ve made because you didn’t know if he really meant to kiss you. I mean he didn’t mean to kiss a lot of girls so you didn’t feel the need to even jeopardize a great friendship for one kiss while he was under the influence.

You break the silence first once a wave of realization washes over you. “ We should get to bed, H.” And with those words you’re getting up with his hand wrapped around your wrist.

“We should talk about this.” Harry gives you a suggesting look. “About what, Harry ?.” You ask as you silently hope it isn’t about you and him.

“About the night we kissed. I mean I kissed you, but you leaned in, love.” The words that leave his mouth makes your lips tingle as they wish to indulge in his taste again.

“And ever since that night, that memory is engraved in my mind and it won’t let up. I can’t sleep because of you so how do you sleep at night ?” You shrug before speaking.

“ I thought I was just another girl, Harry, that you were just doing what you usually do.” You watch him shake his head and disbelief take over his expression. He lets his hand drop from your wrist. “ You told me you didn’t remember so maybe I am just another girl.”

“You’re not.”

“ But you know where I stand on this topic, Harry, so why do you insist on having this conversation ?” You fold your arms as you become slightly frustrated. “When I said all that stuff about your parents and how they must’ve felt towards one another I thought about how I feel abo-“

“Don’t finish that sentence. I just don’t want to talk about this right now.” Before you get the chance walk away Harry’s hand is attached to your wrist again. “ But I do, y/n. I do because I like you a lot and I hate that you won’t even consider being with me despite your list of what-ifs.” Harry says as you pout. You weren’t looking to talk about this, but you didn’t want push this away anymore. If you were going to nip this in the bud you wanted to give him a chance to talk. “If I have this conversation with you and I say no to being with you, do not pester me again okay ?”

“I can’t promise that,”Harry says causing a groan to erupt from your mouth, “Just talk to me.” You take a breathe before obliging.

“I like you too, but my list of what-ifs are very important to me.”

“So enlighten me.”

“Well what-if we don’t work out ?-“

“We will,” Harry replies all to quickly, no doubt detected in his voice,” but if we don’t please hold off on telling me ‘I told you so’.”

“Welp that wasn’t reassuring at all, Styles.” You say as you chuckle. You watch him get up from his seated position and smile down at you.” That’s because I’m not from the future, but when you bunk with Styles,” Harry leans in to place a kiss on your cheek,” I’ll guarantee it will be for awhile.” Your smile brightens and his follows.

“I’m making you smile is that a good sign ?” Harry asks, using his thumb to trace your lips. “I’m scared.” You say lowly to which Harry mouths an ‘I know’. Harry wasn’t oblivious to the fact that you were uncertain about this shift in direction of his and your relationship, however he wasn’t going to let up because he knew why you didn’t want to partake in a relationship with him.

“I’m scared that we won’t get married or have kids-“

“So you started planning beforehand ?-“

“Shut up,” Harry continues as he smirks,” or even just enjoy a few years before those things happen, but I can’t say that I wouldn’t risk it, bug. I want to hold you and not just on days where you feel alone or sad, but days I just want to hold you. I want to kiss your lips and every inch of that pretty little face of yours and tell you everyday how much you mean to me.”

“And on days you don’t want too do that ?” You ask as you began to feel overwhelmed with emotion. Your eyes get watery again and your heart beat quickens. Harry wipes the tears before they fall.

“I’ll do it anyway and if I don’t or I do something wrong I want you to tell me. I want you to tell me if I’m being a jerk or an ass or if I just pissed you off. I take criticism very well.” You stifle a laugh.

“No, you don’t.” You say and Harry gives you an amusing look. “ I do so ,y/l/n.” Harry replies to which you shake your head. You remember a time where this art teacher you both had assigned a project which instructed you, Harry and your peers too draw a portrait of a person among the class. Harry picked me as said person to draw, however the person on the paper looked nothing like me and our teacher was sure to point that out. Harry just let that go after so many years. You blink just a few times before Harry moves on with a ‘fine’ and goes on about the task at hand.

“ A penny for more of your thoughts ?” Harry asks. “ What if we don’t work out and stop being friends ?” Your breathe is shaky as this question comes out of your mouth. You are scared of losing him in anyway shape or form and Harry senses that, his playfulness gone as he allows you to set the tone. He drags you over to your bed and sits down beside you as his thumb caresses the back of your hand. “ Then we don’t,” you interrupt him with a sigh dripping in disappointment,”But look I just want to enjoy you while you enjoy me. I want to sit and watch movies with you all day, go on cute dates maybe even pick out a few outfits for you to wear on them. I want you to love yourself while I love myself while we work on loving each other. No expectations, no talks of the future. I want you here with me right now.” He places your hand against his lips. “Okay ?” Harry asks, but you pause taking in everything before you respond.

You’ve always wanted to say yes and just live in the moment, but you knew you couldn’t because that just wasn’t you, however that was Harry. He balanced you out and made you feel comfortable, stop you from overthinking and has made everything that has mentally held you back no longer do that anymore. It is going to take time to adjust, but you nod your head slowly, confirming that you understand. You don’t want to give up this opportunity and you aren’t going too. As your nodding that shit eating grin takes over his once neutral expression. You return the smile with a small one, one of slight caution, but excitement of how this will go.

“So ask me.” You say to which Harry improves his posture and takes a deep breathe.” Will you, y/n y/l/n, be my girlfriend ?” Harry stares at you in such awe. “Yes, Harry Styles, I do.” You say and in one swift move Harry is picking you up and expelling words of joy all at the same time. You squeal in his arms and wrap yours around him. The moment is over once he puts you down to take in your face, feeling of adoration overcoming both of you, but the look on your face fails to hide your uncertainty.

“I don’t like change, Harold.”

“Everything’s still the same, nothing changes. Except now, I get to hold you, and kiss you, and show you much I love you.” You pull Harry into an embrace and silently hope for the best.