#(these were hiding in the wrong folder but i knew i had them somewhere lol)

[robo-dino-puppy]

sobeck ranch

[havethetimeofyourstyles]

in which you and harry steal each other’s stuff that eventually leads to more.

a/n: hi beauties! here is my fic for @stylesharrys​ 10k challenge! my picture of harry is the one above, enemies to lovers, and prompt is: ‘can you use your mouth for something other than talking?’ dedicated to my appreciation for great teachers & wanting to become one, but not happening lol

thank you to my girls @bopbopstyles​ & @harrystylescherry​ for beta reading <3

enjoy 23.4k (LONG AH) words of teacher!harry x teacher!reader, (kind of) enemies to lovers, angst, smut, plus a bit of twist in between!

TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK OF STEAL YOUR HEART! i’d love to hear your favorite moments and thoughts!

pls rb to share! <3

It was seven in the morning when you quickly sneaked over to the front desk where the cubbies for mail sat unbothered.

Call it a Monday ritual, where Nina would chuckle at your playfulness as you would take your fellow coworker’s mail and put it someplace else as said coworker would take something of yours and do the same.

Every Wednesday, he would take your bottle of milk from your own personal mini fridge and place it in different refrigerators throughout the building, leaving you to wander around to fifteen different classrooms as you raided their fridges and embarrassingly apologize for being in their business. But they would laugh it off knowing you and Harry always played games like that.

You could use different milk for your coffee that other teachers have, but since you’re lactose intolerant, you’d rather not, especially during work.

And today was no different for you. Every Monday, you would steal Harry’s mail from his mailbox and place it somewhere else; whether it’d be in your classroom or someone else’s classroom—sometimes you would even put it in other people’s mailboxes.

It may be immature of you both to be messing around in a school environment where you’re both teaching third graders how to behave and be nice to one another, but after working alongside Harry for six years, there was bound to be some kind of way to keep the workplace fun and light, but also remain somewhat professional.

But stealing each other’s belongings had begun a year after both of you started working at the school because after you two had met, things were a bit rocky, and somewhat still rocky as of now. You remembered the day so clearly when you accidentally stumbled upon his classroom.

You were nervous for your official first day because it was the first time you would have a class to yourself. You were rather proud of your achievements as you now had your own classroom at twenty-four. It was a different feeling when it was your own; when you were a TA for the high school down the street, but you rarely got to do any teaching because Miss Landson would never miss out on a day of teaching, so you were only really limited to grading papers and helping her students if they went up to you and asked. But you had no experience teaching in front of a whole class.

To say the least, you were nervous.

You had walked into your classroom to find it already decorated, and you assumed it was from the teacher prior who had just retired and didn’t take all of her decorations down. And although you brought many of your own decorations to put up, you didn’t mind it. It was nice to start off your first day not looking at empty walls, as they were filled with all sorts of decorative stars and colorful fliers.

Hesitantly, you took a seat in the comfy and cushioned chair, putting your bag down right beside the legs of the table, and spun around slowly as you tried to ease your nerves. Once you had fully spun around and made your way back to the correct position in front of the desk, you abruptly stopped spinning as you noticed a man standing in front of you with his arms crossed.

“What are you doing?” He had said with his brows furrowed. You looked at him as if you were a deer in headlights, feeling like you got caught doing something bad.

“I, uh…just getting a feel for the chair?” You sat up straighter, realizing that was such a bad and stupid answer.

“And why are you doing that in my classroom?” Your eyes widened at that, making you immediately stand up from his chair.

“I-I’m so sorry. I must’ve gone to the wrong classroom,” you hurriedly opened your folder that contained a copy of your contract, school rules, a map of the school, and the room number that you were supposed to be in.

“You must be the new teacher, correct?” He asked as he raised his brows, but still looked at you as if he was scolding you.

“Yeah, that’s me,” you said with a chuckle, hoping to try and lighten the mood as your face had reddened. Harry only nodded, and you felt his stare intimidate you, so you quickly gathered your belongings and walked around the desk. “Uh, nice to meet you,” you took your hand out as you told him your name, and you felt him hesitantly reach for it. But nonetheless, he shook it, and his heavy ring covered hand met your delicate two ringed one.

“You too. I’m Mr. Harry Styles,” he introduced himself.

Once he had said his name, chills had immediately risen onto your skin as he looked at you so intently. You couldn’t deny that he was incredibly handsome, green eyes piercing into yours, and most likely a year or two older than you, based on how well dressed he was. Everything about him had made you swoon for him.

But that had quickly changed later in that school year of your first year teaching.

It was January, after the Christmas break, when you noticed that some of your things in your classroom had gone missing. Just some basic school supplies such as your gold stapler and all of your expo markers were not in your classroom. You thought that it was impossible your students had taken them because they were in your class when you had left the last day you had gone on break.

It wasn’t until you were helping out with the rest of the staff, putting up decorations for Valentine’s Day when you noticed a certain someone had your gold stapler in his hand as he stapled heart shaped cutouts onto the bulletin board.

“Mr. Styles!”

“Oh, hello there. How are you on this fine Thursday afternoon? Did you know that one of my students-”

“You took my stapler!” You said, and he looked at you confusingly, so you looked at his hand so he would know what you were talking about.

“This is my stapler,” he held it up.

“I don’t think so because my gold stapler was taken from my class and now it’s gone, and I know you don’t have a gold-”

“Snooping in my classroom, are you now, Miss?” He said, interrupting you and a clearly amused look on his face.

“Uh, no, but-”

“Then how would you know I don’t have a gold stapler?”

“I-I…don’t,” you said softly because you really didn’t know as you were assuming.

“Then it’s settled. You must’ve misplaced your stapler,” he told you as he continued stapling decorations to the wall. You huffed as you had walked away, continuing what you were doing.

It wasn’t until a week later, your gold stapler had magically appeared on your desk when you walked into your classroom, and you noticed that a red stapler was on Harry’s desk, when you had buddy classroom meetups, and not in fact, a gold one. And you knew it was him, but decided not to confront him about it as you carried on with your day, happily using your stapler.

So, from that year, fast forward to five years later, taking each other’s things had continued on. Taking his mail and your milk had only started last year, and it’s been fun as you both found new hiding spots and watched each other lose your minds when trying to find them. It was nothing serious, really, and neither of you made an effort to stop.

“Where are you going to put it this time?” Nina asked, amused. You pursed your lip, thinking as you gathered all of his mail in your hands.

“Hmm. I was thinking under my refrigerator, but-”

“What do we have here?” A voice you recognized as Harry said as he snuck up on you, causing you to squeal and jump, making you drop his mail. “Think you dropped something, or is that my mail?” He said as he looked down at the dropped mail.

“Son of a bitch. What are you doing here so early?” You rolled your eyes as you bent down to pick up his mail. He usually arrived at the school around 7:30, and school started at eight.

If it were any other day when you weren’t his annoying coworker and fellow class buddy, he would’ve loved the sight below him, but he had to remind himself to snap out of his thoughts and get it together.

“Now, we are in a workplace where there are children around. Don’t be using that kind of language,” he teased, but proceeded to answer your question. “But I had to print some of the worksheets that I forgot to do on Friday, so here I am. And you know the printer, always getting jammed when you print too many.”

“Seems pretty irresponsible to me if you forgot on Friday,” you turned your head towards Nina as you chuckled, but only found her eyes dreamily staring at Harry, which caused you to roll your eyes. But you didn’t blame her; he was very attractive, but the fact that you both are always messing and annoying one another didn’t completely make your heart swoon for him.

“Says you; the one who gave them a worksheet that was supposed to be for the month later,” he said back. Your jaw slightly dropped, impressed that he still remembered that considering that that happened your first year at the school.

“Ugh, whatever,” you scoffed as you crossed your arms, mail still in your hands. Harry chuckled as he looked at his mail underneath your arms, so he went to grab them, causing you to uncross your arms.

“Think this is mine. Thanks for grabbing them for me,” he said sarcastically, and you sighed, bummed that you weren’t able to do your morning ritual by hiding his mail and watching him struggle while finding it.

You watched him walk away as he flicked through his mail, and as you were about to follow him because your classroom is right next to his, he turned around and stopped walking to look up at you.

“By the way, you look nice today,” he said, looking you up and down in a non-creepy way, before walking away to his classroom.

You slightly raised your brows as you were taken off guard by the compliment, but a tint of pink had creeped up your cheeks as they began to warm up. Turning around to look at Nina if she heard the same thing you did, she was already looking at you with a blushing and giddy smile as you whispered to her, “did he just say that?” To which you earned an immediate nod of her head.

With your lips curled into your mouth, you walked back to your classroom, to get on with the day as you tried not to gush over the words of the curly headed teacher next door.

The rest of the week passed by quickly, and per Harry’s ritual, he moved your milk on Wednesday from your fridge to his fridge.

You had never thought about looking through his fridge since he would be quite obvious with knowing that it was in his room, but once you were getting cranky after looking through everyone's mini fridge and the lack of coffee, you had marched in his classroom and told him you gave up. And he chuckled, getting up from his desk as he walked over to his fridge before opening it and giving your container of milk. You took the milk, shaking your head as you walked back to your classroom as Harry followed.

“You know, I think we’re going to have to find something else to hide because I’m running out of places to stash your stuff in before they rot because you’ve been taking forever to find them lately,” he teased as he leaned against one of your student’s desks.

You rolled your eyes, pouring a splash of milk in your coffee. “I’m not taking forever,” you denied.

“Yeah, you are and you know it.”

You gave up arguing, silently agreeing. “Alright, you can pick something else, but I’m going to still do your mail. It’s fun searching through your monthly catalogs,” you said with a chuckle, and he dramatically gasped.

“It’s illegal to look through someone else’s mail!”

“Please. Like you don’t look through mine?” You said as you sipped your coffee, looking at him with testing eyes, and he was caught red-handed.

One day, you were walking to the cubbies and once you got there, you caught Harry sneaking a peek at one of your fashion magazines that you subscribed to. And since you have enough subscriptions that are being mailed to your home, you decided to mail some of them to the school.

“To be fair, it fell out of your mailbox. I was just simply putting it back,” he explained, and you smirked as you told him okay with a testing look.

The next week, there was a meeting with the rest of the staff after school was out of session in the multipurpose room. You took a seat next to Stephanie, or Mrs. Bale, as Harry sat in the row in front of you on the end with Mr. Ken. He was a bit older than Harry, already had that salt and pepper kind of hair and you thought he pulled it off really well, but he was already attractive to begin with.

“Thank you, everyone, for sticking around to attend this meeting. It’s Friday and I know everyone wants to go home, so I’ll keep it short,” Mrs. Morgan started, “So in one week on Saturday, there is a very special anniversary coming up, and that is the school’s 40th anniversary!” She said excitedly as she clapped her hands.

There was small chatter as everyone let out ‘ooh’s’ and ‘ahh’s’, saying how that’s exciting and a big milestone.

“And we would like to do something to celebrate that—nothing huge, but I’ve already coordinated with a hotel to let us rent out their conference room for next week, and I’ve also hired an event coordinator to grab some decorations. But as for helping set up, I need everyone’s help for rearranging that.” Everyone nodded, not thrilled with the fact that they had to help out with organizing this event. “Just maybe if you can take the time of your busy lives and exhausting job, if some of you can, that would be great.”

Mrs. Morgan then started talking about what would be served, and to sign up if any of the staff were vegan or vegetarian. She also talked about games and photo booths, and expected everyone to participate and be a good sport because it would be a lot of fun when there are more people involved in the activities.

“Also, it is formal wear because the conference hall is a very luxury hotel that overlooks the coast. And besides, you get to dress up, so that’s always fun!” She said cheerfully as she was clearly very excited for the event.

The meeting didn’t go past twenty five minutes as people mainly chatted or asked questions on the location and capacity.

“Alright, everyone is free to go. If you’d like to sign up to help your dear principle set up for next Friday, please sign this clipboard right here.” She waved the clipboard in the air and set it down on the stage as the staff and teachers got up, and headed out of the multipurpose room and some stayed back to ask questions or sign the clipboard.

You stood up from your chair as you gathered your purse and backpack where you keep various folders of your student’s class work, homework, quizzes and tests.

“Gotta get to the kiddos, finally,” Stephanie said as she began to walk, and noticed that you weren’t following. “You coming?” She asked as she turned around.

“I’m just going to sign up for next Friday. I’ll see you on Monday,” you bid her goodbye.

“Oh, you’re an angel for wanting to help out. I’ll see you next week!” She said her goodbyes as she walked out of the room, and you walked towards the stage to sign your name up for setting up the event as well as writing your name down on the list of vegetarians, although you are pescatarian.

You scanned the list to see if there were any teachers you were close with signed up, but so far not many you really know personally, just the occasional hello and how are you. There were only about three people who signed up so far, including you, and you hoped that more people who write their name down and you also hoped the conference hall wasn’t that big because there were only three people helping out, then it would probably take a while to decorate and set everything up.

As you put the clipboard back down onto the edge of the wooden stage before taking one last glance at it, you turn around to be met with a hard chest, causing you to halt back slightly, and soft grunt coming out of your mouth.

Harry was staring right at you as you looked up, you gave him a look as you wondered why he was in your way and standing behind you so closely.

“Watch it, Mr. Styles,” you said, trying to pass by him, but he shifted towards the right as you took a step to your left, making you both face to face again.

“You were the one who bumped into me, Miss,” he said back with a smirk on your face.

You simply rolled your eyes, exhaustion taking over your mind as you’d rather not bicker with him at the moment. He noticed your tiredness, and kept his mouth shut and his games to himself as he let you walk by him. He picked up the clipboard, glancing down at it as he saw your name written down on the third line.

He felt a bit bad that only three people signed up to help out next Friday, especially considering the first two people were Kyle and Saya (Mr. and Mrs. Terrance) who both are way older, and it would be dangerous for them to lift anything heavy. Plus, he probably knew that you would take care of everything if they couldn’t lift anything, but he didn’t want all the work to be unloaded on you, so he decided to grab the pen and write his name down. He also signed his name on the vegetarian list as well.

Once he turned back around, you were already gone, so he lugged his black leather briefcase with him to the parking lot where he saw you walking towards your car. He snuck up behind you, making you squeal and gasp.

“You need to stop sneaking up on me,” you said as you caught your breath and fished for your keys in your purse.

“Thought you liked it?” He asked sarcastically, and you scoffed.

“Aww, annoying,” you stated.

“Aww, you too,” he said right back in the same tone as you, making you playfully roll your eyes, making a small chuckle fall from your lips.

“What do you want, Harry?”

“Just wanted to say that we’re on the event committee for setting up next Friday,” he said, and you raised your brows.

“Oh, goodie. More moments where you get to mess with me,” you told him in an unexcited tone as you gave him a look that told him you found him annoying.

“Please, you like when I tease you,” he said in a more low tone; his voice was deep as shivers ran down your spine.

His words had come out naturally, and his eyes slightly widened at what just came out of his mouth, hoping you didn’t take it the wrong way because it can be taken differently. And you didn’t miss what he said, especially how he said it.

You hadn’t noticed the position you were both standing in and if someone were to walk by, they would definitely have some eyes on you; your back was against the trunk of your car as he stood quite close as he looked down at you while you looked up. It was like you were back to the day you first met him when you stumbled into the wrong classroom and he stared you down until you got up out of your chair. But this time, he was much closer and it seemed like he was definitely not annoyed at you.

And the slightest bit of sweat had run down your neck as you felt hot under his gazing green eyes and the bit of sun was shining right down on you both. You felt a bit nervous under his stare as it can come off quite intimidating, but through the years of knowing Harry, you knew how to bite back.

“That’s too bad though, isn’t it?” You asked, and he raised his brows. “That you would never know if I liked being teased or not.”

With that, you didn’t even wait to hear his response as you shifted to the side, turning around to walk to the driver’s side. He opened his mouth, but nothing seemed to come out of it as he was shocked to hear your words.

A smirk was present on your face as you chuckled a bit from his reaction before you said, “I’ll see you next week, Mr. Styles.”

The weekend flew by with the slightest bit of drizzle, but luckily, Monday came in with sunshine. You were able to steal Harry’s mail successfully and hide it in the cabinets of the lounge room, but you were disappointed because he found it within ten minutes, and probably because you made the dumb mistake to put it where all the sugar is, so that was your fault. 

On Wednesday, you were surprised to see your milk in your fridge until you remembered Harry telling you that he was probably going to steal something else of yours that doesn’t require your milk spoiling. So, you skeptically searched your room as you tried to find something that was obvious that he stole, but you saw everything in place and nothing that you knew was taken. 

With a confusing expression on your face, you continued on with your day. 

It wasn’t until after lunch when you noticed something was different when you sat in your chair. Looking around, you felt like something was off when you leaned back. Your students were chatting as the movement of the chairs slid against the floor. You gave them about ten minutes to get situated because you weren’t one of those teachers who didn’t allow your students to use the restroom after lunch because they “should’ve gone at lunch.” 

So, you sat there wondering what felt so off about sitting down as you had five more minutes left until you had to teach. But once you figured it out, you gasped, telling your students that you would be back in three minutes and that you were going next door. 

Luckily the setup of the inside of the school is one large room with big divider walls for each classroom, so you didn’t have to go outside and you could practically hear other classrooms as well. 

Stomping over to Harry’s classroom, you walked in and he was sitting on his chair with a smirk on his face as he had his hands on the back of his head, telling his students to take out a math worksheet. He had heard you tell your class that you were leaving for just a few minutes, and he immediately knew that you were headed to his class. As you walked over to his desk, he turned towards you with a sly grin. 

“Oh, hello there. To what do I owe this pleasure of you visiting me?” He said in a very obvious tone, knowing that he’s done something. 

You took a deep breath, “You stole my footrest.” He slightly turned his head to the side as if he didn’t know what you were talking about. “You know, the one under my desk?” You clarified, and he opened his mouth as he realized what footrest you meant. “Where is it?” You really didn’t want to disrupt everyone’s class looking for it, so you just asked him. 

“Hmm, I’m not sure,” he said, and he was really getting on your nerves.

You didn’t want to put up with him, so you didn’t answer back as you took a look around his room until you noticed that he was way too comfortable in his chair. Looking at him weirdly, you walked around the desk to where he was sitting to find his sock covered feet resting on your footrest. 

“Ugh, Harry!” You slightly pushed his chair, causing it to roll to the side a bit. 

“Isn’t this what you do? Take your shoes off when the class is working?” 

“Yeah, doesn’t mean you get to do it too,”  you said before you bent down and roughly pushed his feet off, grabbing your footrest. 

“Woah, if you wanted to get under my desk, you should’ve just said so,” he said with a smirk. You rolled your eyes as you scoffed, quickly getting back up and backing away from his desk.

“Shut the fuck up,” you said quietly for only him to hear as his students were distracted doing their classwork. 

“Language. See you Friday night, by the way,” he said before you made your way out of his classroom and towards yours. 

It was only Wednesday, and you thought the days couldn’t go by any slower. 

Friday rolled around, and you already knew it was going to be the longest day of the week. 

With work, and staying two hours after to wait and head to the venue to help, you already knew you were going to crash easily once you got home. And on top of it, Harry was going to be there as well, so you kept the interactions with him limited during work hours because you simply just did not want to put up with when you had a long day ahead of you. 

It wasn’t like you hated him--because you really didn’t. You tolerated and are civil with each other, and you’ve never gotten a chance to get to know him because all you two do is steal each other’s things. Besides, you really had no reason to hate him because you do the same thing to him. 

Luckily, he sensed that you didn’t really want to talk to him, so he knew to not bother you. He figured that you were having a long week, and he made it worse by stealing your footrest on Wednesday and to make matters even more worse, he bickered with you and made innuendos that you didn’t appreciate. So, ultimately he felt a bit bad for that and left you alone. 

Work seemed to go by pretty quickly, and you were already on your way to the venue; the time reading 4:30 p.m, and you hoped setting everything up didn’t take long. Did you regret signing up? Maybe as exhaustion took over you as you drove. But you know that you wouldn’t later on once you had finished decorating. Plus, you felt bad that there were only two people who signed up before you. 

The venue was about thirty minutes away from the school, and when you walked in, the conference hall was completely empty besides the uncovered tables and chairs, but luckily, it wasn’t a huge room. But there were no decorations yet or centerpieces, and you felt like it was going to take a while. Harry arrived right when you did along with Kyle and Saya. 

Mrs. Morgan had assigned you all different jobs so the work would be faster and everyone would finally go home. You were assigned to draping curtains in the entrance and on the window. Harry was in charge of carrying tables and boxes in and out of the storage room of the hotel. Kyle and Saya were placing table cloths on the tables and seat covers, along with placing centerpieces. 

Everyone was working hard for about an hour, and you were on a ladder, reaching for the top of the door frame to hang one side of the curtain. Thankfully, you decided to switch your mules from work to sneakers because you probably wouldn’t have worked as fast as you were. 

Kyle and Saya followed the hotel manager to a different storage closet to get more table cloths for the food table as Harry was still carrying chairs into the room. But you were having trouble draping the sheer curtain over the curtain rod. 

You were completely alone in the room as sweat dripped down your back from how hard and fast you’ve been working until Harry came into the room with his sleeves rolled up as he carried four chairs that were stacked on one another. You hadn’t seen him come in as you were still trying to hook the curtain, and you always didn’t realize the ladder was slowly closing in as you kept moving around. And Harry quickly put the chairs down, rushing over to you as he saw the ladder tipping and you were still working. 

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion as the ladder completely tipped over, causing you to fall off the ladder. You thought you were going to be met with the hard ground, but instead you were being caught in someone’s arms as you two hit the ground. Grunts came out of both of your mouths from the impact of the fall. Luckily, the ladder fell sideways rather on the both of you because that would have been a painful mess. 

“Oh my god,” you groaned, looking over and seeing Harry lying flat on his back with his eyes closed and one of his hands on his back. “Holy shit. Are you okay?!” 

Harry moved on his side to put pressure on his back as he was in a bit of a fetal position. Your body was sat against his as your back was against his stomach. 

“Fuck, that hurts,” he groaned out. 

“Harry, let me see if I can get some ice,” you were about to get up when he placed his available hand on your knee, stopping you from his touch. 

“No, don’t leave. Just…need a minute,” he said softly as his eyes were still closed. You nodded, staying in your seated position against him as you took your hand and rubbed his back. It was quite sweet, considering how you both normally acted towards each other, but you felt really bad that he was the one that had to take the pain. 

After a few minutes, he opened his eyes, looking up at the ceiling and remembering where he was. He sat up on his elbows, and you stood up to help him up. 

“You sure you’re okay?” You asked cautiously, not wanting him to collapse on you. 

“Yeah. Just a bit sore, but it’ll go away. Feel like I’m old and got a bad back now,” he tried to joke, hopefully lightening up the situation, making it humorous. But you were still worried as you held onto his arm to hold him up just in case. 

You scoffed amusingly, “Please. You’re thirty years old. You’re not gonna feel that until you’re maybe fifty.” Harry chuckled, telling you that you were right before you let go of his arm. “By the way, thank you for catching me. I didn’t even notice the ladder tipping over until it fully did. But I, uh, feel really bad that you had to take the fall,” you said, scratching your neck. 

“Eh, don’t worry about it. This pain will be temporary,” he brushed it off before taking a seat on one of the chairs for a moment to relax and not immediately go back to a strenuous task. 

“Let me know if you need anything, okay?” You said before walking away slowly, and he nodded. 

You two hadn’t been so nice or caring for each other like this, so it was definitely a new approach to it. But you didn’t mind it. Playing games with each other was fun, but you wished you had that sort of friendship where you could talk to him and not banter or bicker like a married couple because you think he was a genuinely cool and nice person, even though he really got annoying sometimes. Guess you just attracted annoying people, then. 

You took another glance at yourself in the rearview mirror to make sure your makeup and hair was okay before you got out of your car. You stood still next to your car, trying to see your reflection from the window as you fixed the top of your dress. A blush colored cami dress was looking amazing on your body with the straps crossing each other on the back with a slit on the side. You wore nude heels and dangly diamond earrings to accessorize. With your hair pulled back into a low bun, you thought you looked very nice--beautiful even. 

There weren’t many times when you got to dress up for the fun of it nor does your job require you to go full glam when going into work. But you think some of your students will love seeing you dress all pretty because they would always compliment you on your outfits. 

You walked in just on time, not wanting to be too early when no one is there or too late, but the perfect time. There were a decent amount of people already as the room was filled with teachers, staff, and some people from the school district; all celebrating the anniversary of the school. Everyone was dressed gorgeously--like you, probably having a blast wearing fancy clothes that was hanging from a hanger, waiting to be worn. 

The place looked great, and you were really happy with how everything turned out. The lights were dimmed a tad bit as LED lights were pointed towards the wall as music played softly through the speakers. 

Stephanie found you once you walked in as she took you to the bar because luckily, tonight’s event was an open bar, all thanks to Mrs. Morgan. 

“You look bangin’! That color is amazing on you,” Stephanie complimented as she hyped you up. She was practically the only person you’ve gotten really close with when you started teaching. While you were somewhat close to the other teachers, you and Stephanie hung out outside of school and gossiped your hearts away. 

“Please, you’re too kind, but thank you. You look great as well,” you said back after you did a little turn for her, causing you both to laugh as you sipped your mojito. 

You two chatted for a bit as she asked about setting everything up last night, and you told her about the incident between you and Harry. 

“See, I knew you would fall for him,” she said, making a pun out of it. 

“Ha ha, very funny. I really did feel bad for him though.” A slight frown pulled onto your face and Stephanie chuckled before you saw her brows raised. 

“Ah, speak of the devil,” she said, and you turned around to find Harry in a lovely double-breasted cream colored suit and a light blue shirt under it. You try not to ogle him too much because you know that he’ll catch on and tease you about you checking him out, so you look at him quickly to find him already staring at you. 

“Evening, ladies. Already talking about me?” He smiled as his dimples popped out, making you swoon for him a tad bit more tonight, but you quickly snapped out of your thoughts.

“She was telling me about your little incident yesterday,” Stephanie said, and Harry nodded. 

“Yeah, how are you by the way? Are you still doing okay?” You asked, placing your hand on his arm before quickly pulling it away as you realized that you hadn’t asked him if he could be touched, but he smiled softly as you at the action. 

“I am, thanks for asking. I took some pain reliever medication and iced my back, so I’m fine. Just a bit sore, but all good,” he reassured, and you simply nodded, glad to hear that he was somewhat better than he looked yesterday. “I’ll be around. Gotta mingle and whatnot,” Harry said before walking away. 

After an hour of mingling and eating dinner, you were sat with Stephanie at a circle table along with Harry, Penelope or Miss Nguyen, and three other teachers who were in a deep discussion over wine. Going against your liking, Penelope was being a little too flirty with Harry, and you had no idea where this tinge of jealousy came from. You were hoping to sit next to him and Stephanie, but your plate was moved to the seat over as you went to get napkins. So now, you were on the left of Penelope instead of Harry. 

You saw her touch his arm as you did when you first arrived, but this time, she didn’t pull her arm away, and you thought he might’ve liked her arm there. With sneaking glances at the two of them as Stephanie watched some of the staff play the activities, you took a deep breath and stood up from your chair. 

“I’m going out to get some air,” you told Stephanie, not looking back to look at Harry rather wondering if he was watching you as you walked out. 

You took a step outside through the side doors of the venue that led to a balcony of the hotel. The hotel was on a hill overlooking the coast, and the sun was at its peak of saying goodbye for the day. The golden light illuminated everything around you as you felt calm, watching the sunset as you leaned against the railing before undoing your bun and letting your hair fall free. 

“Hey,” a voice from behind you said, and you quickly turned around and saw Harry standing a few feet away from you with one hand in his pocket while the other was holding a drink. 

“Hi,” you said back, turning back to the coast as Harry walked to stand beside you, watching the sunset as well. 

“S’pretty, innit?” 

“Yeah, it really is,” you responded, not turning your head to look at him, but being captivated by how the view in front of you looks. 

“You look amazing, by the way,” he complimented, and you blushed. Hard. You turned your head towards him as you caught him eyeing you up and down, and you felt intimidated. 

“You look great as well. I love your suit,” you said, hopefully to cover up your nerves. He said a thank you to you, and you turned your head back to the view as Harry continued looking at you. 

And you didn’t notice Harry looking at you the entire time as you watched the sunset. You didn’t know how entirely gorgeous you looked as the gold light was being melted onto your skin, making you look more beautiful than you already are. You also didn't know that Harry couldn’t simply stop staring at you because he was taken back and practically speechless with how the slightest bit of wind that was blowing the right way, which made your hair flow perfectly. You were the epitome of beauty, he thought, and he captured a mental picture to remember you in this moment because it was surely his favorite. 

“My ex never really liked watching the sunset,” you suddenly said, and Harry looked over at you. “I’m sorry. That was really random.” 

“No, no. It’s okay. You can talk about anything,” he encouraged. 

“Well, he never really liked watching the sunset with me. Always said that it was a waste of time and it was boring, but I don’t think so.” 

“It’s really not boring at all,” he said. 

“Yeah, I agree. But people have their own opinions. The earth deserves to be watched over.” You looked straight into the sun as it wasn’t bright enough to blind you anymore as you watched it turn into an orange tone. 

“Why did you two break up, if you don’t mind me asking?” 

“We just fell out of love with each other. We were together for three years, and the last few months of our relationship, there wasn’t any love. He stopped taking me out on dates, and when I asked if he wanted to go out, he always said he was busy. I believe he never cheated on me, but he just wasn’t in love with me anymore, and I can say the same for him—I wasn’t in love with him anymore. So, we had a mature talk and figured it was best to part ways,” you explained. 

“And are you happier because of the breakup?” 

“Much happier,” you simply said, and it was the end of that conversation. 

You didn’t know why you were telling Harry about your past relationships, but there was just something about the sunset where you could be your most vulnerable self. 

After a few moments of admiring the earth and its wondrous ways, Harry spoke. 

“Do you mind doing me a favor?” He asked. 

“What’s that?” You turned your head to look at him as you asked. 

“Do you, uh, mind taking a picture of me?” He asked nervously, not knowing how you were going to react to a random question. Your brows raised as you nodded slowly. You didn’t expect him to be the type to be in front of cameras or want his picture taken, but you did it for him anyways. 

“Oh yeah, of course,” you said, and his face perked up as he smiled softly. Harry took his phone out of his pocket and opened the camera icon before handing it to you. You took several pictures of him so he would have options to choose from, but he was standing completely still as he looked into the camera. “Maybe, like…move around?” 

“What d’ya mean?” 

“I don’t know, like give me some different poses,” you said, and a soft ‘oh’ came out of his mouth before he started to stand differently, occasionally giving you a smile. 

You tried hiding your face behind his phone as you looked at him through the screen, snapping at every chance you think that’ll be a great photo turnout. But you already know that either way, the photos will come out great no matter what. 

After a few more clicks, you smiled and gave his phone back to him as you stood there, watching him scroll through the photos before typing on his phone rather quickly right after. You thought if he was sending them to someone or sending them in general, and you wondered if it was a significant other. 

Trying not to look into it too much, you turned around towards the doors, and asked him, “Do you want to head back?” He looked up from his phone, putting it away. 

“Oh, yeah. Sure,” he followed you through the doors and towards the room where everyone was dancing on the dance floor. Harry had immediately parted ways with you as you saw him walk towards the bar while Stephanie dragged you on the dance floor. 

You kept the going down and throwing it back very minimal as these were the people you worked with, and only stepped side to side, swaying your hips just a tad bit. 

Harry, on the other hand, had already downed three tequila shots within six minutes, and including the drinks he had before he went outside with you, he was pretty buzzed. He watched you dance with Stephanie, and chuckled at how you were restraining yourself. He thought you were adorable. The whirling thoughts of his mind when he watched you take his picture was stuck in his head. Head to toe was splashed in the golden light giving you the most goddess-like look as a slight smirk was plastered on your face as you took his picture. Yeah, you were the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. 

It was a strange feeling to feel like this when it's been years of plotting against each other, and he hadn’t felt like this in a long while. The thumping of his heart had told him that he was falling. Just the mere vision of looking at you had made a butterfly in his stomach appear. You just had that effect on him. And it wasn’t like he was complaining, but he was definitely terrified of that feeling. 

So, that’s why he’s had three, now four, shots of straight tequila to ease his nerves and calm his mind as he watched you on the dance floor with a fifth shot in his hand. 

The music had turned into a much slower one, and the staff that brought their staff or significant other had taken over the dance floor as you walked back to the table to sit down. Stephanie brought her husband, who she immediately dragged to the dance floor, and you watched them smile and look at each other with hearts in their eyes as they swayed. You smiled, observing their faces and how in love they looked, somewhat wishing you had that as well. You hadn’t had a serious relationship in a long while--the last one being before you started teaching. 

You felt a tap on your shoulder and turned around to find Harry smiling down at you with his hand out. 

“Would you like to dance?” He asked. You didn’t immediately grab his hand nor did you say anything; you just looked up at him in shock that he asked you. But after a few seconds, you grabbed his hand and nodded as he led you to the dance floor. 

Once you two were facing each other, you hesitantly wrapped your arms around his shoulder as he wrapped his around his waist. His hold wasn’t too high or too low, but it was placed on the right spot for you to feel comfortable, and you appreciated that. 

As you two swayed to the soft classical piano ballad music, your eyes were elsewhere; looking at the other people dancing and the people sitting to find that no one was watching you both and that didn’t matter. So, you trained your eyes towards Harry, and of course, he was already looking at you. Being under his stare was something you were somewhat used to, but when it comes down to it, it made nerves along with the flutter of your heart appear. It was as if he was looking deep into your soul, trying to figure something out, and it remains once he’s found what he’s looking for. 

“I was surprised you asked me to dance,” you said suddenly. You felt him pull you a bit closer, so your stomachs are pressing against one another, but not your chests, and your face was very close to his, making butterflies in your stomach present as you wondered if he had the same feeling. 

“Why’re so surprised?” He genuinely asked as he swayed you both in a slow circle. 

“Thought you might’ve asked Penelope to dance.” 

“Why’s that?” His brow crinkled, wondering what brought these questions to mind. 

“I mean, you were awfully close to her during dinner,” you said honestly, and Harry let out a chuckle, which you didn’t find amusing like you usually did. “What’s so funny?” 

“Are you jealous?” His face inched closer to you, and you could smell the alcohol on his tongue. With how fast he was downing those shots, it was slowly starting to kick in. 

“I’m not jealous. It was just an observation,” you said. 

“No, I think you’re jealous. Didn’t like seeing me give another teacher attention, huh? Just wanted to give it all to you, is that it?” He asked with a hushed tone in his voice. You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He was full on teasing you as you tried to ignore the arousal that was forming inside of you. 

“I’m not, okay? I was just genuinely wondering because you know, you think I’m annoying and whatnot, so I was surprised you asked me to dance,” you tried brushing it off, and Harry scoffed shaking his head. 

“You’re saying a load of bullshit right now, and you don’t even know how I feel. Can you use your mouth for something other than talking?” The words had come out like rapid fire, and he is fully blaming it on the alcohol because he would never say something like that sober. And you know he wouldn’t say something like that to you, so you found it humorous as you were a bit shocked you heard those words come out of his mouth. You looked at him with your brows raised and your jaw slightly open as it somewhat curved into a smile as you tried not to laugh. Harry hadn’t said anything else, neither had you, but you did give him a shoulder shrug as if it was telling him ‘we’ll see.�� 

The song had ended, and you and Harry made your way off the dance floor and to the table. It was nearing 8:30, which means the party was almost over in thirty minutes. So, you decided to leave a bit early to grab some dessert on your way home since you didn’t really like the selection at the party. 

“Think I’m gonna head home now,” you told Stephanie who made her way to the table. 

“Aww, okay. We’re gonna head out soon too. But drive safe and I’ll see you on Monday.” You two hugged each other, telling each other that you both had fun tonight before grabbing your clutch. 

“Uh, I’ll see you on Monday,” you told Harry. 

“I’ll walk out with you. I’m heading home as well,” he said, and you nodded your head as he took a last sip of his drink before you two headed outside of the hotel. 

The air was chilly as the sound of the coast was heard under the starry night that was above. You shivered slightly, turning to Harry as he was taking his suit jacket off and holding it out for you to wear it. 

“Oh, it’s okay,” you waved off. 

“Please, I insist,” he said, and you nodded before turning around, facing your back towards him as he slipped his cream colored suit jacket on your shoulders. 

The piece of clothing was warm and smelled like his usual tobacco vanille. As you were wearing it, you felt a sense of comfort, like Harry himself was hugging you, and you cherished the feeling of it, even if it wasn’t the real thing. 

“I’m parked over here. I can drive you-” you pointed to the left of the parking lot. 

“Oh no, it’s okay. I took an Uber anyway. Just gonna wait here for a few,” he said as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, blinking a few times from the bright screen. He was clearly buzzed, and couldn’t really think straight, so you took his phone out of his hands. 

“Let me drive you home. It’ll give me a piece of mind, yeah?” You offered, and by the look of your face, you were persistent, so he nodded, following you to your car. 

You started driving down the hill and onto the main street before you said, “Is it okay if I stop by the Sweet Treats before I drop you off?” You asked, referring to the dessert place about two miles away from your place. 

“Yeah, of course. S’bit early, so you can go wherever,” he replied as he leaned his head on the shoulder of the seat, clearly a bit sleepy. You let out a chuckle as you continued driving as Harry drifted to sleep. 

When Harry woke up, he looked around out the windows and found himself alone in the car until he saw you quickly walking towards your car with his suit jacket still around you. And all he could think was how great you look in his clothes. 

“Ah, you’re awake. I got you a cupcake and two cookies. Didn’t know what kind of flavor you like, so I just guessed and got you chocolate,” you said once you got in the car and handed him his box of sweets. 

“Oh, thank you. That’s very kind of you,” he smiles as he opened the box, and the sweetness of the desserts filled his nose. 

“Now, I’m going to need directions to your place,” you said as you started the car. 

Harry navigated you to his house, telling you to turn right here and turn left there. But you needed to make sure, asking him, “Wait, right here?” 

“Yeah, here,” he chuckled, playfully rolling his eyes as you were driving slow so you don’t miss the turn. And luckily, there were no cars behind you. 

Once you finally parked in front of his house, you noticed that he didn’t leave that far from you because you’ve been in this neighborhood before as your cousin lives a few houses down; it was probably a five minute drive to your place. 

“Thank you for the ride, and the dessert,” he said, turning his head towards you, and making no effort to get out of the car yet. 

“You’re welcome. Couldn’t let you be in an Uber while intoxicated--just doesn’t sit well with me,” you said honestly. Harry nodded, telling you that he appreciated it as he looked at you deeply.

“Also, about what I said when we were dancing--I’m sorry about that. That was out of line of me,” he apologized, feeling quite embarrassed from his words, and knowing that he was going to think about what he said and beat himself up over it after you leave. 

You let out a breathy chuckle, “No worries. It was quite funny. But maybe I could use my mouth for something other than talking.”

“W-What?” He gulped nervously, slightly turned on from your teasing. 

“Maybe one day you’ll find out,” you said with a sly smirk on your face as you watched Harry scratch his neck and run his hand through his hair nervously. “Goodnight, Harry,” you bid him goodbye, and that was his cue to get out of your car already. It wasn’t like you wanted to kick him out, but you wanted him to think about your words for the night. 

And since it was still too early to go to sleep, maybe you’ll think about his words to.

It was Monday, a month later after the anniversary party, and you had Harry’s mail in your hand as you decided to stuff it into your filing cabinets that hold future worksheets and your students’ progress. 

It wasn’t until lunch when you were having the pasta you made the night prior as you watched a fashion competition on Netflix when you saw Harry stomp into your room. 

“Where’s my mail?” He asked immediately, not bothering to say hi to you. 

Ever since the party, your moods had changed towards each other. Of course, you both still messed with each other and annoyed one another, but the mood and energy between you two was different. And you didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing. 

“Gotta find it, Mr. Styles,” you said as you took a bite of your food as you eyed him. You could tell he was beginning to get frustrated with you, but you didn’t see a reason to stop because it’s the same way with you when he hides your stuff. 

“Just hand it over. I’m not in the mood to put up with this right now,” he rolled his eyes as he huffed. 

“Now, those aren’t the rules. You made me find it until you just laughed and pointed at me, so now you have to-” 

“I swear to god, just give me my damn mail!” He said in a loud tone, not technically yelling, but enough for you to stop talking and finally notice how angry he looked. “Fuck, just give me my fuckin’ mail, so I could get out of here,” he added, waiting for you to make an effort to give him his mail, but you were too in shock by his words and tone that you didn’t move. “Well?” He said, arms crossed, and you snapped out of your thoughts and got up, walking over to your filing cabinet. 

Once you handed him his mail, he immediately snatched it, flipping through it as he walked out of your classroom with no thank you, and you swore that you heard him mutter ‘fuckin’ annoying’ as he walked out causing your stomach to drop. 

You sat back down in your chair, pushing your glass container away and turned off your phone as you took deep breaths, trying not to make a big deal out of it. But of course it was a big deal to you. You had thought that your relationship with Harry was doing okay, and you weren’t at each other’s throats, but that hope had all washed away within a minute as he raised his voice with you as if you were a little kid. 

Normally, you wouldn’t take bullshit like that, but this one seemed to hit differently as your eyes started to tear up and your hands started to shake. You got up from your seat, fast walking to the staff restroom before you let it all out. Your tears made its way down your face as you covered your mouth as muffled sobs echoed through the tiled walls. 

A week later, you headed straight to your classroom, deciding that you weren’t going to move Harry’s mail around. 

There was an awkward tension between you two, and Harry’s at fault for it. He knew that he shouldn’t have raised his tone at you because it was completely unnecessary, and he knew better than that. He ultimately felt really bad for talking to you like that, and he didn’t even say please in a calm manner, which he should have. 

Last Monday when he got back to his desk, he immediately knew that he was wrong for how he spoke, so he had gotten up and walked back to your classroom, only to find you already headed for the staff restroom. And he hoped you weren’t crying, but he had a feeling you were. 

After that day, he had gone into your room to try and apologize the entire week, but you would either be talking to a student or avoiding him as you saw him enter your classroom, so you exited, saying an excuse just to be out of his presence. He frowned as he watched you walk away, but it was very understandable and he didn’t blame you whatsoever. 

Now, after a week of pondering what to say to you, Harry walked over to his mailbox to see all of the envelopes in his box. With a small frown, he turned towards Nina who was watching him, and he saw her shrug as she continued doing her work. He walked to your classroom to find you on your laptop, round tortoise framed glasses sat on your nose, and he thought you looked absolutely adorable. Sitting on the side of one of the students’ desks in the front row, you didn’t even bother to look up at him. 

“Hey,” he said. “Can we talk?” 

“About what?” You asked, still not looking at him, but obviously knowing what he wanted to talk about. 

“Please, look at me?” He pleaded, and he saw you take a deep breath in, taking your glasses off before looking at him. “I-I’m sorry. For last week. It was so unnecessary to talk to you like that and I regret it so much. You didn’t deserve that at all.” 

You nodded, “You’re right. I didn’t deserve it. But can you explain to me why you talked to me like that?” 

“I was waiting on something from my cousin back home. He had sent me some stickers that he made for the class, and I really wanted to give my students them already. And when I couldn’t find my mail, I got frustrated and annoyed, and I took it out on you, which I shouldn’t have,” Harry explained, and your face remained neutral. 

“You know, I would’ve eventually given it to you if you would’ve asked nicely, but you raised your voice and called me annoying when this is the kind of game we play. And it’s not an excuse to talk to me the way you did,” you said sternly, but also calmly. Harry felt like he was a kid getting lectured, which he thought this is probably how you looked like when your students got in trouble, and he thought that it was great how you’re so calm. 

“Yeah, it’s no excuse whatsoever. I feel really bad, and I’m really sorry,” he offered a small but sad smile as you looked him in the eyes to see if he meant it, and thankfully, you didn’t find a spec of lie. 

“I forgive you,” you said, and Harry lets out a deep breath. “But that doesn’t mean you go around talking to me or anyone like that ever again when they don’t deserve it,” you added. 

“Yeah, of course. It was just that moment, and I’m sorry it was you. But thank you for forgiving me,” he beamed gratefully and you nodded. “But just know that I think you’re more than annoying,” he confessed suddenly. 

“Do you?” You asked calmly, but on the inside, your heart was racing. 

“Yeah, way more than annoying. I mean I’ve known you for years, and I see you everyday. And I can’t believe this is the time when I’m about to confess this right now, but…” he took a deep breath before saying, “I like you. I really do.” Harry pursed his lips as you were looking at him with a shock expression, but your eyes were saying something else. 

They were almost telling him that you were happy to hear those words, but you didn't expect it and it was shocking to hear because of how sudden and how things escalated so quickly, but there was a hint of sparkle in your eyes, and for that, he remained hopeful. 

“You, uh, you like me?” You asked, wanting to make sure you’re not dreaming, but also wanting to hear it again. 

“I do. I like you. And I know it’s crazy to say it because the way we acted and treated each other seemed otherwise, but lately I’ve just been thinking about you nonstop and it’s driving me crazy,” he said with a small smile, still remaining hopeful.

“Harry-” 

“I totally understand if you don’t feel the same way,” he interrupted. “Because I mean who would like someone that messes and bickers with you every chance they get. But maybe that was the reason why I did it.” 

“What do you mean?” You asked curiously. 

“I guess… when I first met you, I thought you were way out of my league. And I know I put this front up to seem like I’m intimidating, but I’m not! I was actually intimidated by you,” he said honestly, and your eyes widened because you thought it was insane that this handsome man in front of you was intimidated by you. “And I kind of just wanted a reason for you to talk to me and see if we had this bond, and for some reason, I did a childish thing and stole your stapler-” 

“I knew it! You kept insisting that it was yours, but all of sudden ‘yours’ was gone and mine suddenly appeared,” you said excitedly causing him to laugh, which of course, made you join him as well. 

“Yeah, it was kind of immature, wasn’t it? But you started taking my things as well, and I was happy with that because at least we were interacting and talking y’know?” You nodded with a smile on your face. “And I may have acted cocky and whatnot, but I was just scared. I haven’t felt like this in a while, so I hid my feelings, and I couldn’t even believe myself when I confessed that I liked you, but I just needed to say it.”

“Harry, you know you should’ve just told me. But I get where you’re coming from. I was actually really intimidated by you, and I couldn’t believe I walked into the wrong classroom and practically trespassed,” you chuckled at the memory that was so long ago, but it was still so fresh in your mind. 

“It’s okay. You can trespass any time,” he joked. 

“But as time went by, I tried to deny my feelings for you, and then we started talking and it was less banter and more teasing, I knew I couldn’t push it away, so I accepted it,” you said, and he nodded his head with a look as if he’s trying to figure something out. 

“So, what you’re saying is…” he said, wanting to hear the full thing loud and clear. 

You laughed before you said, “I like you too, Harry.” 

The brightest smile was plastered on Harry’s face; dimples popping out with the crinkle by his eye present. You’d never thought you’d be the reason Harry would smile like that, let alone at you, but you weren’t complaining at all. His smile was contagious as you both let out giddy giggles, matching each other’s beaming grins. It was also beautiful as his cheeks had a tint of pink to it while running his finger on the tip of his nose, trying to hide his happiness. 

Suddenly, there was a knock on your door, turning both of your attentions to it, and Harry went to answer it since he was closer. When he opened the door, he found a small boy at your classroom doorstep, and you got up, walking over to your student. 

“Dawson? What’s up, buddy? Why’re you here so early?” You bent down as you talked to him, and you noticed that he had a sad frown on his face. “Are you okay?” 

“My mom dropped me off here early, so I’m here,” he said sadly, looking down at the floor. School started in about forty five minutes, which was usually too early to drop kids off as parents started dropping them off about twenty minutes before school. 

“Okay, that’s completely fine. Come in, yeah?” You stood on your feet, and moved out of the way to let him inside of the classroom. 

“I was wondering if I could talk to you?” He said once he put his backpack on his assigned chair. “You said that we could talk to you about anything, right?” 

“Yes, of course. Anything you like,” you said, reassuring him with a smile, and he nodded. 

“I’m going to head back to my classroom,” Harry said, and you nodded before Dawson spoke up. 

“No, wait!” He called out, and Harry stopped walking, giving your student his full attention. Dawson turned to you and asked, “Can Mr. Styles stay? He’s really nice when we have our buddy classroom days.”

You smiled at the young boy, “Of course he can--that is, if he can. Anything to make you comfortable.” 

“I’d be happy to stay for you, Dawson,” Harry offered him a smile as you walked over to the table in the back of the classroom that’s used for group work and teacher-students discussions. 

You sat at the octagon table, Dawson sitting on your right and Harry sitting on your left. You had completely turned your body towards Dawson as your back was facing Harry. 

“Dawson, since this is the first time we are speaking to each other one on one,” you turned around towards Harry, and softly grinned, and you turned back towards Dawson. “Well, two on one. But just know that whatever you say will stay between the three of us, and it will not leave this classroom, okay?” 

“Okay,” Dawson said softly. 

“Now, what’s on your mind?” 

Dawson began to tell you and Harry about how he feels neglected by his mother because of the reason that she’s starting to drop him off earlier than normal and not coming home until later as his aunt picks him up. He then told you two that he just feels a bit sad that he never gets to see his mom that much anymore, and how his father is rarely around, so he was quite torn. 

You felt your heart sink as you listened to him, making sure to not interrupt him as you and Harry listened to his words intently. 

“Okay, I’m done,” Dawson said, eyes a bit swollen from the tears that had fallen out of his eyes, and Harry got up to grab him a tissue box. 

“Dawson,” you started, “I’m sorry you have to go through that. Have you told your mom how you felt?” He shook his head as aggressively wiped his face with the tissue. 

“Never see her anymore.” 

“What about when she drops you off at school?” 

“I’m always eating breakfast in the car, so I never get a chance to,” he placed his elbow on the table as he leaned his face against his hand, while the other hand traced the outline of the polished wood. 

“What about your aunt? Have you told her anything?” Harry pitches in, and you slightly turn your head towards him, gratefully he’s being involved. 

Dawson’s face changed to a much lighter one as if he had a realization to what Harry had said. 

“Oh, I-I haven’t told her anything.” 

“Maybe if you’re comfortable, you can talk to her when she picks you up, and I’m sure she’ll tell your mom if you’re not comfortable doing so,” Harry said, and Dawson nodded in agreement. 

“I want you to know that, your mother not being there for you at the moment or your father not being in the picture does not have to do with you. Don’t think that it has to do with you, okay? You’re good enough and you’re an amazing person that I’m so lucky to have you in my class,” you said, emphasizing your words so it was stuck in his mind. 

“You’re a great student, and my class and I are happy we’re that we’re classroom buddies,” Harry adds with a bright and reassuring smile on his face that lightened the mood, and added a smile on Dawson’s face as well. 

“C-Can I give you two a hug?” Dawson asked, standing up from his chair. 

“Of course, come here,” you scooted your chair back, opening your arms as you welcomed him into your arms. 

You knew that he really needed this hug by how tight he was hugging you, but you didn’t mind, glad to comfort him for as long as he needed as you rubbed his back as he buried his face into your shoulder. Once he let go, you rubbed his shoulders for good measure before he walked around you and over to Harry. 

Harry widely opened his arms before Dawson placed himself between them as they both gave each other big hugs. You heard Harry whisper how proud he was of the boy in his arms, and your heart swooned at the sight, making you blush and practically have hearts in your eyes as you witnessed their moment. 

There was a moment when Harry looked up from Dawson’s shoulder to look at you. A hint of gleam sparkled in both of your eyes as you looked at each other. Although you’ve just confessed your feelings for each other, you knew that this was going to be completely special. 

You were sitting on the small couch that was in the back corner of the room. You were quite proud of this area of your classroom as you wanted to make it a comfortable place for your students to read or take a break at as you decorated it with a cream colored couch, a floral rug, and hung fairy lights along the wall. 

Sometimes you would take a seat on the couch during lunch when you were getting tired of sitting on your chair where your desk was, so it was a nice change up. 

With your container filled with your lunch on your lap as you looked down at your laptop, sat beside you and earphones in your ears, you saw Harry walk in with his lunch in his hands, a beaming grin on his face once he saw how comfy you looked. 

“Hey,” he greeted, taking a seat next to you on the couch. He completely turned his body towards you with his arm on the back of the couch as you did as well. 

“Hi,” you said with a smile. “What’s for lunch?” 

“Salmon with some veggies. I made it last night,” he said proudly, and you looked at his meal and ooh’ed. “Try some?” 

“Course I will. But you also just want me to boost your ego even more because I’m sure it’s good,” you teased. 

“Maybe. Open up f’me, yeah?” He said, cutting a piece of salmon and sticking a piece of green bean on his fork before bringing the fork up to your mouth. 

You tried not to think of his words so literally as there have been many times he would talk as if he was in the bedroom, not that you know anything about what he’s like in the sheets nor how you know his lips feel against yours. But you’re not complaining about his word choices; they do get you a bit turned on, but you simply couldn’t do anything about it. 

With your mouth open, he fed you a bite of his lunch and a ‘mm’ was heard from you as you chewed. 

“Wow, that’s really good,” you complimented the chef as you wiped your mouth with a napkin. 

“Well, thank you very much, darling,” he said, and you blushed. 

It’s been a month since you and Harry have known how you two feel about each other, and it was full of two days out of the week, eating lunch together. He had stumbled into your classroom one day, and asked if you wanted to have lunch together, and you said yes. So, lunch dates stuck, whether it’d be your classroom or his because he also has a comfy corner in his classroom with a record player next to the couch. When you two didn’t feel like staying inside, you would grab a bite to eat together. It also definitely made finding a place to eat much easier since you two found out you were both pescatarians. 

The mood is definitely different with each other as you two have slowly gotten to know one another as you tell each other about your childhood, past stories, interests, etc. You already knew that he was such a kind person, despite the bickering, but truly talking to him had confirmed your assumptions. 

Within the month had also made you earn a pet name from him. From your past relationships, you were always called babe (along with some nicknames from inside jokes), which in all honesty, you never really liked; it was a generic pet name from a significant other and it was an okay pet name. But hearing the word name ‘darling,’ especially from Harry, it was like butter. The name rolled off of his tongue, and you caved in as you continuously looked at his lips right after, wanting him to call you that multiple times. 

“I know my lunch isn’t all that interesting to feed you, but we can share a pie I made earlier this week if you’d like?” You said, looking down at your food as you only had a sandwich with avocado, tomatoes, and lettuce. 

“Sounds good,” he smiled before taking another bite of his delicious lunch. 

After a few minutes of talking about funny stories that happened during class and upcoming assignments, you changed the subject and nervously asked him a question that has been on your mind. 

“So, I was wondering…” you started, but trailed off as nerves crept up your skin. 

“That’s always interesting,” he teased. 

“Say, how about we go on a date? Like a real and official date?” You looked at him with hopeful eyes, and you saw a smirk slowly spreading onto his face as he blushed a bit. 

“Are you asking me out?” He was completely flattered and loved how you made the effort to ask him because he’s been thinking about it for an entire month, but was too nervous to do so. 

“Answer the question,” you chuckled. 

“I’m so flattered you're asking me. Y’know, really boosts my ego, let me tell you,” he stalled as he laughed, and you playfully rolled your eyes. 

When you had thought he was a kind guy, despite the bickering and being annoying with one another, the annoying Harry was still there. 

“Let me deflate your ego then, and take it back,” you joked, and his face immediately went down. His beaming smile as he teased and joked was gone and was replaced by a frown. 

“Hey, no. Don’t take it back. I was just messing with you,” he said softly, making you giggle from the change of moods he just went through. 

“Then answer the question, you big baby.” 

“Would love to go on a date with you. Of course I would,” he finally answered, and his smile, once again, was present. He reached over to hold your hand as his thumb caressed your skin. “I’ve been wanting to ask you since last month, but it was always a bad time or I would get nervous and come into your room to ask you a completely different question.” 

“Aww, that’s sweet. No need to be nervous anymore. But now I’m noticing that those days you came into my classroom, you always acted strange, but I brushed it off since this is so new and fresh still,” you explain, and he let out a breathy chuckle. 

“Yeah, those were the times when I was supposed to ask you on a date. But I’m glad you asked me, and I would absolutely love to go,” he smiled, still hand in hand with you. 

“I’m happy you said yes. I was wondering if you’d like to come over? I’ve been dying to try this new recipe out. It’s a Thai Coconut Curry rice, and I got it off YouTube, and I was watching it late at night and just wanted to make-” you paused, noticing Harry looking at you funny, but he was really just admiring how you’re just adorable when you ramble about things you’re passionate about. “I mean, if you think it’s too soon, I can look for a restaurant if-” 

Your idea of inviting him over had immediately been thrown out the window because he was looking at you funny, and was probably thinking that it was definitely too soon to be at each other’s houses, which you now see. But you didn’t know Harry was just simply adoring the way you talk. 

“No, no. I’d love to come over if you’d still have me. And I’d love to try that dish out,” he reassured you. 

“Really? It’s not too soon?” You asked, wanting to make sure he was okay with it. 

“Yes, I’m sure. And there’s no real timeline in how people should do things when they’re in a relationship. So, we’re going at whatever pace we both want,” he said, and you took in his words, thinking he was completely right. 

For the rest of your lunch breaks, you both scheduled a date and time, which was going to be this Saturday at 7 p.m, and as you suggested that time and day, you watched Harry look up as if he was thinking if he was available that day before he agreed to those suggestions. 

This was going to be the first date you’ve had in a long while, but you were excited knowing that it was with Harry.

It was a brutal four days of waiting for date night to finally arrive, and you’ve never been so happy until Saturday. 

You had barely gotten any sleep due to your thoughts racing on what to talk to him about and what you should wear, but you managed to get about seven hours of sleep, which was really well considering how late you stayed up. 

Saturday morning, you decided to wake up at eight a.m to go on a run. You had so much energy inside of you, despite waking up, and you needed to let it all out of you so you’re not too overly excited. So, you thought a good run would exhaust you for a few hours. 

You ran around your neighborhood and on the main road for a good two hours. You just had so many things on your mind that you were thinking that you lost track of time as your legs continued on as you were in a daze. 

It was a beautiful day. Although there were a bit of clouds, the sun was out and shining. Thankfully, not at a brutal temperature where you couldn’t go out for a run. But it was the perfect weather for the morning. 

You got back to your house at around 10 a.m, immediately heading for the kitchen for a glass of water. The  coldness streamed down your throat, making you sigh in relief as exhaustion took over you. With tiredness settling over you, you knew that you needed to shower before anything else as sweat was dripping down your back, making your shirt stick to your skin, so you made your way to the shower, stripping down as the warm water hit your skin as you washed off your morning run. 

By 12 p.m, you had lunch and caught up on some grading; being very proud and impressed all your students did really well on the assigned homework. After grading papers, you decided to take a quick nap before you had to go out and get some groceries for tonight’s dinner, and the last thing on your mind before you were lulled into sleep from your run, was how a particular man you were excited to see at night. 

Once you’ve woken up and gotten groceries, buying plenty of spices, veggies, and a Thai curry paste, it was 4 p.m, making you right on time with the schedule you had in your head. You started chopping the veggies before you sautéed them to a beautiful golden brown as the sizzle of the pan brought music to your ears. 

You had a show playing in the midst of cooking that you’ve watched two hour long shows that you didn’t realize the time was now six p.m, meaning you’d have to get ready. As you walked to your room, you heard the splatter of liquid hitting the ground outside, so you looked out your window, seeing the sky had turned grey as rain fell down. 

Quickly, you grabbed your phone, opening your message up with Harry before you typed: (bold) started raining hard just now! Be safe when driving, and see you soon! You hit send before opening up Spotify, playing ABBA to hype yourself up as you sang along while getting ready. 

You opted for a minimalistic makeup look since you were just at home, and a pair of black cropped flared trousers with a nice white blouse. You looked yourself in the mirror and felt satisfied with your look, giving yourself a smile before you took a deep breath as nerves were catching up to you. Checking your phone, the time read 6:55 and no text back from Harry, which you assumed he was getting ready or on his way. 

Keeping yourself busy, you checked on the dish you were making that was on low heat as it simmered, and wiping down the counter and fixing the throw pillows are your couch. Your tasks didn’t take that long, about seven minutes in total, as it had already passed 7 p.m. 

He would arrive any minute, you thought. 

But you thought wrong. 

You had waited thirty minutes before you sent him another text asking if he was on his way, but later on you got nothing. Worriedly, you tried not to let your mind think the worst, but it was difficult not to because he wasn’t answering his phone whatsoever and the weather was horrible. 

As you waited another hour and a half with a glass of wine sitting in front of you, you were starting to get angry. How could he stand you up and not call you? You had thought you two were doing really well, and he seemed to want to go on a date with you, so why would he change his mind so quickly? 

It was 9 p.m when you decided to call it a night a bit earlier than you planned, so you placed the food you made in a container and washed the pot before grabbing the plates and utensils you placed on the dining table, and putting them away. The entire time, you were silent as disappointment and an upsetting feeling hit you. You really tried not to cry as you did your normal skin care routine as if it was a normal night, but it wasn’t. 

But when your head hit your pillows, the disappointment had settled, making you release your tears, hating that you’re going to bed feeling the complete opposite as you did when you woke up, 

The night was slow as you watched the night from your bed, looking out at the window. It was most likely slow because you couldn’t sleep—only getting about three hours of sleep as you were woken up by the sun at six a.m. 

It wasn’t until about nine when you decided to get out of bed to start the day. You didn’t really have anything planned, but if you were to stay in bed, then you would continue being sad that your date didn’t show up. 

You were waiting for your coffee to brew when you heard your doorbell go off, grabbing your attention as you looked towards your door. You then looked down, noticing that you were wearing a flowy shirt with your pajama pants. Shrugging to yourself, you decided to walk to the door, not caring who’s behind it as you think that it may be your sister or cousin stopping by in the morning as they sometimes did. 

But you were completely wrong. 

It was the person who was supposed to be at your house last night just as he’s stood on your doorstep, but it’s the morning after, which doesn’t make it any better. 

You scoffed, shaking your head as if you couldn’t believe it. 

“You’re a bit late to dinner, don’t you think?” You immediately tell him as your words came out as an obvious tone. 

Harry expected those kinds of words to come out of you once you opened the door. He knew that you had just woken up, and it wasn’t smart that you were already in such a bad mood. Looking down at your pajama outfit, he tried not to let himself get too distracted by the way your nipples hardened under your white shirt that poked out due to the warmth of your house colliding with the coldness that is the outside. 

“I can explain-”

“Seems like you’re always explaining, huh?” You stressed, huffing as you were closing the door, but he quickly placed his hand on it, stopping it from closing him out. 

“No, please! I swear I have a good reason,” he pleaded. You looked him in the eye, and saw a hint of sadness, like he really just needed to explain it to you. 

“Y’know if you didn’t want to go out with me, you could’ve just told me that. Didn’t need to stand me up and have me wait for hours with a home cooked meal,” you opened the door a bit wider, but not moving so you could let him in. Instead, you crossed your arms as he stood at your doorstep. 

“I’m sorry. I did want to go out with you. But there was something I needed to do,” he said softly, looking down. 

“And you couldn’t even think to call me?” 

“I know I should’ve. I feel horrible, but my daughter needed my help, so I just couldn’t,” he confessed. Harry was really holding that in for a while, and he sighed in relief once he said the word. He noticed your change of face as it softens; you were taken back, and part of you was shocked because of how off guard that was. 

“D-Daughter?” 

“Yeah. I have a six year old daughter. She’s in the first grade with Mrs. Monet,” he confirmed with a small nod. He was really nervous telling you as his hands shook and his heart pounded, not knowing how you would take his news. 

“How did I not know this?” You said, more to yourself than asking Harry. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I just…I didn’t know how you would take it, so I refrained from telling you,” he apologized. And he did notice that it was like he was apologizing to you a lot (the other time was from when he raised his voice at you); it wasn’t like he had trouble expressing his words or needs to say something, he just needed a minute to gather his thoughts and wait for how other people react to what he has to say. 

“Harry, I teach the third grade where I absolutely adore my students, so I should love kids in general. I’m gonna take the news well,” you said more lightly, and your words made Harry’s shoulders drop as he relaxed a bit more. “What’s her name?” You asked as your anger with him had completely flew out the door, excited to hear all about her. 

“Her name is Bella Anne,” he smiled as he looked down. You wondered why he was always looking down as if he was a shy kid, but you brushed it off until he spoke again. “I know it’s a lot to take in and I still have to explain what happened, and it may be too soon to others, but again, we’re on our own timeline…” 

“What are you trying to say?” You asked curiously. 

“Would you like to meet her?” He asked nervously, and a big smile was placed on your face as you excitedly nodded your head and said yes. “So, would right now be too soon?” 

Your eyes widened, “Like right now?” 

“Yeah, she’s actually right here,” Harry looked down and averted his eyes slightly towards the side, right next to the door frame as he brought his hand out. And that was when you knew why he was always looking down so subtly. 

The little girl wearing blue denim overalls, a white t-shirt with a tan coat over along with some white sneakers, held her father’s hand as she looked up at you with her green eyes; the same as Harry’s. Your eyes immediately sparkle as you look at her, bending down so you’re eye level with her. 

“Hi, Bella. It’s nice to meet you,” you smiled at her as you greeted her. She shyly smiled as she waved at you before looking up at Harry causing you to look up at him as well to see what he had to say. 

“Go on, bub. Ask her what you wanted to ask,” he shook her hand in encouragement as Bella looked back at you. 

“Have you had breakfast?” Bella finally spoke, and your heart flutters at how cute you think her voice is. 

“I actually haven’t had breakfast yet. Why do you ask?” 

“Because we brought breakfast for you!” She let go of Harry’s hand before she bent down to pick up the paper bag, smiling as she held as much as she could up. You gasped, placing your hand on your cheek from the thoughtful gesture. 

“Well, I’ll only eat the food on one condition,” you proposed. Bella’s face dropped as she waited for you to tell her what that condition was, glancing up at Harry quickly before looking back at you. “You two have to join me for breakfast.” 

With that, her face lifted once again as she beamed at you and quickly said an okay. You opened the door and moved out of the way so Harry and Bella could walk in. Bella skipped into your house with no hesitation as Harry called out for her, but you told him that it was okay. 

“You didn’t need to do this,” he told you, feeling bad that he hasn’t even told you the full story of what had happened last night, and you being the angel that you are, openly invited both of them into your house when you had every right to slam the door in his face. 

“Don’t worry about it. We’ll talk later, but for now, let’s eat? I got coffee ready,” you said, brushing it off, and he nodded, still knowing that the conversation needed to happen. 

He followed you to the dining table where Bella had already taken the food out of the bag. She sat there proud of her contribution, and Harry said ‘good job’ and ‘thank you’ to her as he always did when she helped set the table. You got three plates from the cabinet and utensils from the drawer; the same ones you set from last night, but this time, with a plus one. 

You and Harry opened the containers of food as there were various breakfast dishes for the three of you to share. 

“So, Bella. What’s your favorite movie?” You asked, wanting to get to know her better. 

“I like Mamma Mia! That’s one of my favorite movies, but the next one would have to be The Princess and the Frog!” 

You gasped, “Mamma Mia is my favorite movie too! And The Princess and the Frog is an excellent choice.” Bella nodded, agreeing with you. 

Harry watched the two of you interact; talking about all of your interests and dislikes, most Harry already knew about, so he sat back and ate as he thought the sight before him was the most precious thing he’s witnessed. He’s noticed Bella’s eyes gleam as she talked her heart out, and how you gave her your full attention when she did. And he thought that the interaction and connection was so important to him when he introduced a potential love interest to his daughter. The bond between you and Bella wasn’t like anything he had seen before, and he was grateful it was with you. 

After an hour of talking at the table, Harry told Bella it was okay if she wanted to play on her iPad for a bit, and she nodded her head before asking you if it was okay. 

“Of course you can, sweet,” you said, giggling a bit because she felt the need to ask you, but you thought it was sweet; the pet name completely slipped out as if it were natural for you to say it, but you think it really suits her, and by the way her eyes lit up when you called her that, you think she likes it as well. 

Bella opened her backpack, grabbed her iPad out, before walking to Harry, whispering to him. 

“Go on and ask her,” he said to her before she walked around the table to you. 

“Do you think I can get the WiFi password please?” She asked politely, smiling to yourself as kids nowadays know so much of technology from a very young age. 

“Of course,” you said before she unlocked her iPad. 

You noticed her wallpaper, all too familiar because you were the one who took the picture. It was a picture of Harry in front of the sunset with his mouth open as he smiled with his two hands up, throwing peace signs at the camera. 

“I like how you put your wallpaper as your daddy,” you complimented, looking up at Harry as he blushed. 

“Me too! He went to this party type of thing, and I told him to take a picture in front of the beach!” She beamed. 

“Yeah, bub. She was there,” Harry pitched in. 

Bella suddenly gasped loudly, “Are you the pretty teacher that took his picture and bought us cupcakes?!” She asked excitedly. 

“Oh, uh, yeah. That would be me,” you said as you nervously chuckled. 

“Thank you! Those cupcakes were so good!” She thanked you, remembering how good those cupcakes tasted, and you told her that you were glad that you liked them. 

After you typed in your WiFi password, you told Bella that she could sit on the couch in the living area. 

“Twenty minutes, okay?” Harry called out as she walked away. 

“Okay!” Her soft voice yelled back as she took a seat on the couch. 

Your head turned towards Harry as he turned to you as well. Both of you had a moment of silence as you two looked at each with a soft and admiring look. Things were way different now as you now know Harry has a daughter, but in all honesty, you don’t mind it whatsoever. You’ve managed to adore that little girl in a matter of an hour and a half, and you think she’s the most beautiful little girl ever. 

“So the pretty teacher, huh? I liked her wallpaper,” you said with a mischievous grin, and Harry snickered. 

“Yeah, I kind of underexaggerated--should’ve said ‘the gorgeous teacher that I like who took the wallpaper,’” he flirted, and you raised your brows as you blushed, thinking that was incredibly smooth of him. After a minute of thinking how to go about this conversation, you spoke up.

“Do you want to tell me about last night?” You asked, and Harry nodded. 

“Bella was a bit in a bad mood from the morning she woke up. Couldn’t really do anything to please her, so I was pretty frustrated because she couldn’t really explain what was happening to her, just threw a tantrum while holding her head, and then I figured out that she had a headache, and that’s no fun,” he explained, and you nodded as he said so. “It was literally hours of crying nonstop for hours. The only time she stopped crying was when I gave her something to eat,” he chuckled. 

“Everyone stops being pouty after some food,” you joked. 

“She did for a bit, but then it was right back to crying. My mum came over because she was supposed to watch her while I was with you, and usually her Nan would cheer her up, but not this time. After a few hours of trying to comfort her, she started becoming clingy, and when I would leave her side, she would just start crying. By this point, I was just exhausted, so I held her as she slept, which then resulted in me sleeping, also thinking I would wake up just in time, but waking up at midnight.” 

The look on his face was a disappointing one as he couldn’t believe he missed the first official date, and if you were to forgive him, he’d make it up to you with every date you would give him. 

“I understand, H. I can imagine being a single parent is hard. At least, I hope you’re single,” you tried lightening up the moods. 

“Yeah, definitely single,” he confirmed with a smirk.

“Well, maybe not for long,” you teased at the fact of becoming his girlfriend sooner or later, and his heart started to race. 

“Oh yeah?” He smirked. “Is that what you’re thinking?” 

“Yeah. Are you?” 

“I’ve been thinking about it, darling,” he responded honestly, glad to know you’re on the same page. 

He could possibly ask right now, knowing you feel the same way about him as he does you, but with not showing up for the date and practically throwing having a daughter at you, it wasn’t the right time. He wanted it to be special, not during a time when he was explaining why he screwed up. 

“Good. I’m happy we’re thinking the same thing.” 

“Me too.” 

There was a moment of quietness between you two, and the only thing that was heard was Bella’s game that she was playing on her iPad and the thumping of both of your hearts. Harry checked the time on his phone, realizing that he had to leave. 

“What are your plans for today?” He asked. 

“Just clean up around here, and perhaps go to the farmers market before they close.” 

“Sounds lovely. The weather’s nice after all that raining last night,” he said, and you agreed. “I’m really sorry I wasn’t here though.” 

“Harry, stop apologizing. Bella’s your priority and I totally understand.” He sighed deeply before nodding his head. 

“Say, how about this: bring me that lovely dish you cooked yesterday for lunch tomorrow because I would love to try it, and this time, you come over to my house on Saturday for our date? I’ll cook you dinner,” he suggested. 

The corners of your lips perked up as you nodded, “I’d like that.” 

“Great. But we’ve got to go to my sister’s house right now. Can I help you with the dishes really quick before we leave?” Your face softened even more, thinking of how kind and helpful he is. 

“No, I got it from here. Thank you, though.” 

You and Harry got up as he called out for Bella, telling her that it was time to leave. Harry helped put her coat on as he muttered something to her. Bella walked over to you, and you bent down as you smiled at her. 

“Thank you for letting us have breakfast with you and letting us into your home,” she opened her arms, and your heart fluttered as you opened your arms as well, taking each other in for a hug. 

“It’s so great to have you both. You’re welcomed here anytime,” you said against her ear, and Bella hugged you tighter and you rubbed her small back. 

After you two let go of each other, you walked them to the door, a bit sad that they had to leave, but you’re reminded that you’ll see Harry tomorrow and hopefully Bella around school. 

“I’ll see you two soon. Drive safe, yeah?” You told Harry, and he nodded. 

“Always do. I’ll text you?” You nodded, reaching up to give him a hug. 

It was a quick hug that only lasted about five seconds, which was way too quick for your liking, but when you two let go, Harry pressed his lips against your cheek, and that totally made up for it. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he smiled, and nothing came out of mouth, so you nodded instead and waved at the two. 

You watched them get into the car and drive off down the street, far enough where you couldn’t see them, so you watched back into your house and closed the door, placing your palm on your cheek as you felt the warmness of your skin heat up from the softness of his lips. And you hoped that you would get to feel his lips again.

Meanwhile as Harry was driving towards Gemma’s house, Fleetwood Mac was playing through the bluetooth of his phone until Bella spoke up, causing him to lower down the volume. 

“I really liked her,” she said. 

Harry smiled, agreeing with her, “Yeah, me too, bub.” 

“You’re right--she is pretty,” she confirmed, and Harry chuckled. 

“Very pretty.” 

“I hope I have her as my teacher when I get to the third grade.” Harry gasped, looking into the rear view mirror. 

“What?! You don’t want me to be your teacher?” Harry asked her, but knowing that his own daughter can’t be in his class, according to the rules and policy of the school. 

“I mean, maybe. But we might get annoyed with each other,” she stated, and Harry definitely agrees with her, but also loves how she’s not afraid of speaking her mind. “I hope I see her again soon,” Bella said, looking out the window as if she was in a dramatic movie. 

“You will, bub, you will.” 

And he meant what he said because Harry plans on keeping you around for a very long time. 

It was Friday after school when you heard someone say ‘knock knock’ from the entrance of your classroom. You looked up from your laptop to find Harry peeking his head out into the door frame. 

“Hi! Come in,” you said, standing up and taking your glasses off. Harry fully stands up straight, walking into your classroom. You walked towards him until a small figure that is Bella who is running straight towards you, excitedly. 

“Oh, hi sweet!” 

“Hi!” 

“We were just about to leave, but figured we could stop by and say hi--or goodbye since we’re leaving,” Harry chuckled. 

“Aw, that’s so sweet of you two. Well, I’m glad you two stopped by. I’m probably staying here for another hour or so,” you said, and you think that was probably the reason you also never knew Harry had a daughter because you two never leave at the same time. 

“I also wanted to give you these,” Bella chirped, grabbing the box of cookies from Harry’s hands before giving them to you. “We made you these last night!” 

“Wow, thank you so much. I’ll be sure to have some after I have dinner, but I just know they’re really good.” Bella nodded her head in joy. 

“I heard you’re coming over tomorrow. I’m sad I won’t be there because I’ll be with Aunt Gem,” she frowned slightly. 

“Yeah, I will be. But how about this: next weekend, with your dad’s permission and if you two aren’t busy that weekend, we can go to the park? Have a little picnic there and play some games?” You suggested that idea to her, and she immediately said yes. 

“I’m definitely up for that plan,” Harry said, smiling from ear to ear as Bella jumped eagerly. “But for now, we really do have to go.” 

You hugged Bella once more, telling her you couldn’t wait for your picnic together before hugging Harry as well. You became flustered as you remembered the time he kissed you on the cheek. And it happened again--every time you two had lunch together, he kissed your cheek hello and goodbye, and you blushed every time. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

“Tomorrow,” you confirmed. 

And you couldn’t wait for the evening.

As you knocked on Harry’s door, you were filled with nerves. 

The night was a bit cold out, so you wore a pair of black jeans, topped with a red leopard top, and some three inch black booties, and of course, a black coat for outside. In your hands, you held two bottles of Chardonnay--a wine that is paired well with seafood. And although you don’t know what he’s cooking up, you do know you two are pescatarians, so it saves you from roaming down the wine aisle. 

“You look absolutely gorgeous,” he complimented once he opened the door as he looked up and down at you. Harry was wearing a light blue vertical pinstripe button down with cream colored pants. His sleeves were rolled up, and his hair was pinned back with a clip. “Oh, sorry,” he said once he felt his clip that was still in his hair. 

“No, don’t be sorry. You look really handsome,” you complimented back. 

“Thank you. Come in,” he moved to the side of the door, stepping out of the way so you could walk in. 

The Styles’ residence was a very cozy and welcoming home. You had already felt welcomed by the presence of Harry, but his home just made you feel even more welcomed and loving. It was the perfect size, not too big where it looks empty, but not too small so Bella can still run around. There were pictures hung up on the walls, a fireplace, and neutral colored furniture that complimented Prussian colored walls. 

He led you to the kitchen, and you thought the kitchen was lovely as well with white cabinets and potted plants along the backsplash of the kitchen, which you assumed they were fresh herbs. 

“So, I made some seasoned shrimp, and bought some ingredients that I’ve chopped up already for some shrimp tacos? We can do our own if you’d like,” he said proudly. 

“I’d love that. Do you need help with anything?” 

“Yeah, if you don’t mind?” You shook your head. “Do you mind grabbing the toppings in the fridge? They’re all in bowls.”

You made your way over to his silver refrigerator and took out all the bowls you saw, placing all of them on the counter in a line. Harry turned the stove off before grabbing two plates from the cabinet on the side of the stove, and handed one to you. 

“So, these are raw tortillas, which I’ve already cooked and placed on the pan, so it’s really good.” 

“Everything smells amazing. I can’t wait,” you smiled at him. 

Impulsively, Harry leaned forward and placed his lips on your forehead as a thank you. Not really knowing he did it until he pulled back, you beamed at him, thinking the gesture was sweet and made your heart pound. 

You and Harry assembled your shrimp tacos together, giggling when you both would reach for something at the same time, causing your hands to touch before one of you pulls back shyly. After, you followed Harry to the dining table, and it was a beautiful grey wood table with cream colored cushioned chairs. And you came to the conclusion that everything about Harry’s house was beautiful, including Harry and Bella. 

“Thank you for coming,” he said before taking a bite of his taco. 

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?” You asked, and he gave you a sad look before you realized what he meant. “Harry, we’re passed that. It was one time, and you had to take care of your daughter. Yeah, I was angry when I was waiting for you, but only because I didn’t know what was going on. But I’m not mad anymore. Please, don’t beat yourself up with that.” 

“Yeah, you’re right. I still feel bad about making you wait,” he frowned. 

“Don’t. I’d wait for you if I have to,” you said, your words coming out as a double meaning to it. 

As you and Harry ate, you complimented him again on the food as you both drank a glass of wine. 

“Tell me about your family?” Harry asked. 

“Hmm. Well, my parents are divorced. They have been since I was sixteen, but they still have a really great relationship with one another. They see each other occasionally, not often. But I have a younger brother; he’s two years younger than me and he works at a magazine company in the marketing department. My dad is in the construction business, and my mom is a pharmacist. Not really much to tell, we were--are a great family,” you told him, smiling to yourself as you remember how lucky you are to have the family that you have. 

“Do you see them often?” 

“Not as much as I should,” you replied honestly. Your family lives about ten hours away from you by car, which does not cooperate with the school schedule. But you do see them on holidays and whatnot. “Can I ask you a question now?” Harry nodded nervously. 

“What’s your relationship like with Bella’s mom?” 

“Uh, well…we were together for the last two years of uni. We moved in together during those two years, and everything was great until she got pregnant. She kept saying that her life was over, but I kept telling her that everything was going to be alright. It was pretty rocky from then. When she had Bella, I immediately fell in love with my baby. She was this precious little thing in my arms, and I was committed, y’know? But she didn’t feel the same way. She was having trouble bonding with her, and I told her that that sometimes happened and she shouldn’t give up, but one day, she told me that she was over everything. That she’s in the peak of her career and that she’d rather travel. Of course, that turned into an argument, but at the end of the day, that was her choice, so I didn’t bother anymore.” 

“Does she still see Bella?” You asked hesitantly, and Harry can sense it. 

“Maybe once a month? If not, then every other month. But they only see each other for about an hour, and that’s about it,” Harry said, and you nodded, not saying anything. “If you’re wondering, I don’t love her anymore, like, I’m completely over her. Just because she’s Bella’s biological mother, that doesn’t mean I love her,” he said, wanting to make sure you knew. 

You chuckled softly at his assertiveness, “I know you don’t love her. You’re a wonderful father to Bella.” 

“I try,” he said shyly. 

“And that’s all that matters. She completely loves you and she looks up to you,” you told him honestly from what you observed. Harry doesn’t say anything but take in your words, and his heart flutters from it because everyone needs a bit of encouragement; it helps them keep going and to not give up. 

There were no words that fell between either of your lips as there was no need for it; just the unspoken connection that you two shared as you stared at each other so intently, silently sharing a bond with one another that will mean something so deeply to you hearts. A blush settled on both of your cheeks, and it definitely wasn’t the wine because it was so much stronger; Harry had that kind of affect. 

Harry placed his arms on the table, slightly leaning in. You did the same, and your faces were inches away. His hand reached up to brush your hair behind your ear before placing his palm on your cheek, your skin immediately heating up. As he looked at you, his thumb brushed your cheek and it was the most soothing and innocent action anyone has ever done to you, and it made goosebumps on your skin rise. 

“Can I ask you something?” Harry asked. 

“Anything,” you said softly. 

In a moment of weakness where you would let this man do anything to you, you felt strong and powerful. You felt confident and beautiful. And you think that is so important in seeking a partner because they should make you feel like that even with the simple act of staring. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

“Please do.” 

Harry smirked, glancing down at your lips before looking back up at your eyes--something he’s accustomed to doing to you, and you noticed every time. 

He placed his forehead against yours, nose touching as your lips were just a small movement apart. Harry’s hand moved closer to your mouth as he took his thumb and placed it on your bottom lip, pulling it down slightly. You were breathing deeply as you didn’t expect him to do that, but you were nonetheless turned on by it. 

And when he went to caress your cheek again, he finally leaned forward and kissed you. 

It was like everything you imagined. Through the years of tension that was building up, stealing each other’s belongings, the bickering, the days of daydreaming in class of how his lips would feel against yours, and all those nights imagining his lips against your skin—it all came down to something so explosive but marvelous at the same time. 

The taste of Chardonnay adding to his own was something so sweet as his tongue brushed against yours as you grabbed the back of his neck to bring him in closer. Your lips molded together as if it were one, and there was no hint of rushing it even further. It was sweet and slow, taking in one another’s feel as the spark between you two heightened and bursted. 

Once you two pulled back, and the appearance of swollen lips and being breathless, you two looked at each other and giggled, finally relieved that happened. 

“Not sure if this is too soon, considering this our first date, but will you be my girlfriend?” He asked nervously, and your kissed lips turned up, smiling brightly at him. 

“So, when you meant soon, that meant the next week, huh?” You teased, not completely answering his questions straight away. 

“Precisely,” he chuckled, knee shaking under the table. 

“But I thought you’d never ask sooner, so yes. I will be your girlfriend.” Beaming, you held his hand as you said so, and Harry’s face dropped. 

“Really? You’re not messing with me, right?” He said shockingly. 

“Of course I will! How could I say no?” You placed your hands on the sides of his face and caressed your thumb, meeting your pointer finger as you pinched his cheek ever so gently in a comforting way, and not childish one. And Harry finds it sweet and it might be one of his favorite things if you keep doing it. 

Harry took your lips in with his again, knowing he won’t get used to the feeling of having your lips on his. It was a surreal feeling that he’s been wanting to happen for a very long time, and he’s talking about years, way before he even confessed his feelings. 

After a few minutes of kissing and getting used to each other’s soft lips, Harry suggested moving to the living area. So, you two cleaned up after much declining from Harry as he rejected your help, but you helped him anyway. 

Taking a seat on his couch as you waited for Harry to open the wine in the kitchen, you took a look around the living room. It was very warm and comforting; it made you feel safe. From the moment you stepped into his home, it had that sort of feel of security, like you were being wrapped up in a warm hug of love and safeness. And you absolutely loved it.

Harry finally joined you, taking a seat next to you as he poured more wine into both of your glasses—you two having the same amount. 

“What’s your family like?” You asked, only knowing the basics of them. 

“Well, as you know, I’ve got a sister; grew up with her and my mum. My parents got a divorce when I was seven, and it was a bit weird. I was young at the time, so I didn’t really know how to deal with it, but luckily mum always told me that it didn’t have to do with Gem or me,” Harry remembered that day so vividly as him and Gemma were sat on the couch of their childhood home as his mum and dad was in front of them. 

“Did you still see your dad?” You asked. 

“Yeah, we did all the time. I still do see him to this day. He was always an amazing father; never left us worrying. He’s an amazing granddad to Bella, and I really love their relationship.” 

“That’s amazing,” you smiled fondly at him, and Harry agreed. 

For the next hours, you cuddled up to Harry as you both talked about anything and everything as you two were a bit tipsy off your friend called Chardonnay, and off one another as the kisses hadn’t stopped. You hadn’t realized you were talking for so long that it was almost midnight, and you suggested you call it a night to get out of his hair. 

“Wait, how about you stay the night?” He suggested instead. 

“I shouldn’t,” you had sobered up during the last hours as you told him you’d pass on another glass of wine, to which he stopped drinking as well. 

“No, please. I insist. I know that you’re a bit sober, but I don’t want you driving like this anyways,” his hand met your forearm, rubbing it slightly as a way to convince you, and the mere touch is enough for you to say yes. 

“Okay,” you complied, nodded your head. Harry smiled, grabbing your hand as he led you to his room. 

Walking into his closet, he told you to pick anything you’d like to wear as he went to change into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, but hoping you’d be okay with him sleeping shirtless. 

You opted for one of his band tees and one of his a pair of shorts that were actually pretty short on you, so you were eager to see what it would look like on Harry. You met him in his restroom as he handed you a toothbrush and a makeup wipes, telling you that Bella liked to do makeup on him sometimes, so he bought wipes for it, and you told him that the next time she does it, to invite you over. 

Once you and Harry got ready for bed, you had felt like you were intruding, but he reminded you that you weren’t and that if you wanted to sleep in the guest bedroom that he would be okay with that. But you wanted to spend the night with him, so you climbed into bed with him, the worries about things being ‘too soon’ or ‘too quick’ flew out the window as you both were on your own timeline of your relationship. 

Harry pulled you into his bare tattoo chest, and luckily you were totally okay with him sleeping without a shirt on. You were amazed with his inked body, thinking how beautiful it is and wanting to look at every single detail of art that’s permanently on him. He kissed your forehead as you two made light conversation before your eyes dropped and slowly closed. 

You were in his arms, sharing a bed with him for the first time on the night of your first official date where he asked you to be his girlfriend and your first kiss with him. 

Everything had happened so fast, but with the warmth of his arms around you, feeling ultimate safety, it felt so right. 

The next morning arrived and Harry already knew that the night prior was the best sleep he’s ever had. 

He had been sleeping well, but he didn’t know what sleeping with you felt like until last night, and he loved every bit of it, even though he only had memory of the moment before falling asleep and waking up to you. 

The hold on his girlfriend’s arms became tighter as he woke up from the morning light that was peeking through the shutters. It was a quiet Sunday morning; no one in a rush to get anyone as it was everyone’s day to sleep in. 

The position you both were in as you cuddled was an interesting one. Harry had woken up to you both facing each other as Harry's arm was under your neck and your arm on his waist. But what was different was that his thigh was between your legs, squeezed together by them. 

He didn’t want to move because that’ll wake you up, he’s sure. So, he laid still, brushing off the hairs on your face as he watched you peacefully sleep. You were quite adorable as you slept, even though there was a bit of dried up drool on the corner of your mouth. But still adorable. 

After a few moments of laying there, his eyes were slowly starting to close as the silence took over, making him sleepy again. But after a minute of having his eyes closed, movement from you had startled him awake again. 

You were still sleeping, and your position hadn’t changed, only the movement of your hips slightly grinding down on his thigh in your sleep had left him wide awake. He thought it was a mere coincidence of you jolting, but as you continued to do it, he knew that you were having some sort of dream. And he hoped it was about him. 

Harry had been semi hard since waking up, but he felt himself start to grow harder in his pants as you let out quiet whimpers. He leaned forward, pressing a small kiss to your lips before kissing around your entire face in order to wake you up, thinking he could get used to this. 

You stirred, but your hips didn’t stop, and Harry continued to kiss your face until you opened your eyes and yours locked with his as you started back a tad bit, looking at him. 

“Morning, darling,” he greeted, bringing you back into him. There was a bit of a smirk on his face, and your eyes widened, remembering the dream you just had before you woke up. The familiar heat between your legs that made its appearance every time you had a glass or two was being relieved by Harry’s thigh. 

“Oh, god. I’m so sorry,” you said, moving back to push his leg out from between yours, but he pulled you back in, placing his leg between yours again. 

“No, no. C’mere. Don’t be sorry. Were you dreamin’?” He asked, voice deep and raspy from the slumber. And it only added to your arousal as you felt very wet inside of your panties. 

“Uh, yeah. I was,” you replied, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand as you stretched, hoping to hide away the embarrassment you’re feeling. 

“What about?” He consulted with a smirk on his face. You still had your eyes covered, but you know him all too well to know that he has a mischievous grin on his face, and you know yourself all too well to know that you’re red. Harry grabbed your wrists gently, pulling your arms. “C’mon, don’t hide from me please.” Once he held your arms down, you opened your eyes, meeting his gaze once again. “Wanna tell me about your dream?” 

“It’s embarrassing,” you muttered. 

“M’sure it’s not. I’ll tell you something ‘embarrassing’ if you tell me,” he emphasized ‘embarrassing’ as a sarcastic tone because he knows that it’s not really anything to be ashamed of. 

After a few moments of thinking, wondering if Harry would laugh at you, you huffed as you told him. “Every time I have a few drinks, I tend to have some sex dreams.” 

“Yeah?” He smirked. “What was your dream this time?” He asked curiously, but the look on his face tells you that he already knows and just wants you to say it. 

Figuring that you’ve already confessed that you had a wet dream, you told him honestly. “It was about you.”

Harry’s brows raised at that, shifting closer to you before he briefly kissed your cheek. He hadn’t said anything, and it’s driving you insane because here he was, telling you to tell him, and once you did, not a word out of his mouth. 

“Are you not going to say anything?” Your brows furrowed. 

“How about you tell me all about your dream?” He suggested, and the crease on your brow flattened. 

“W-What?” 

“Yeah. Then maybe after, we can make those dreams into a reality.” 

There was no stutter in his words. No lie in what he said. He had this raging hard on below him, and he knows that you’re probably wet already, so why not help each other out? After all, you two are together. 

“How does that sound?” He asked when you hadn’t said anything, dipping his head down to kiss your neck. “Do you want that? Because it’s okay if you don’t. Although, I’d still like to hear about your dream-”

“No, no! I want that. I want that so bad, please,” you pleaded, eyes looking into him so innocently when your dreams were about him railing you. 

“Do tell then, darling,” he gave you a kiss to your lips before, pulling back too quickly, so you pulled him by the neck, reconnecting your lips again. 

Unlike last night’s kisses, this one was eager and rushed, knowing it’ll lead to way more. Your tongues met, and Harry grabbed the back of your thigh, squeezing the flesh, making you hiss out. 

“So we were actually in the position,” you started your storytelling. “We kissed for a while,” Harry pecked your lips again, making you chuckle. “It felt nice, like I felt it through my dreams.” 

“Maybe that’s because I was actually kissing you,” he pitched in. 

“Maybe. And I really liked it.”

“Tell me more,” he hands roamed against your arm that was resting on his waist, and you could already feel the chills from his touch rise on your skin. 

“Your hand sneaked down to my panties, and you teased me a bit, not putting your hand inside of them right away.” 

“Like this?” As you said so, his hand trailed down your torso, slightly pulling your (his) shirt up to reveal a bit of your stomach as he raked his finger down your skin and to the hem of your shorts, dragging his nail along the hem. 

“Yeah, like that,” you confirmed as butterflies settled into your stomach. “Then you took my pants off, and you touched me very slowly.” 

“Can I take this off?” He asked, and you breathed out a ‘yes’ before he pushed the shorts down and you kicked them off your legs. You were wearing red lace panties, just like the top you were wearing, and he admired them for a quick second before taking them off. 

“Can I touch you?” You asked suddenly as you were half bare in front of him. 

“Is that part of your dream?” 

You shook your head, “no, but I really want to touch you, if you’d let me?” 

“Please do. I want you to touch me,” he gave you his consent, and you placed the palm of your hand on top of his clothed crotch, feeling him out as his hands roamed your thighs, Harry softly moaning from your touch. 

“Take this off, yeah?” You referred to his boxers, and he briskly took them off, kicking them on the floor. You looked down at him, impressed by his size, but did do well with your wet core as he still hadn’t touched you yet. “Next, you rubbed my clit for a while as you kissed me.” 

His fingers finally met your clit, and he rubbed as the wetness from your arousal had lubricated his fingers. He lifted your shirt up, and you slightly sat up for a moment to take off the material, finally fully bare for him, and the sight in front of him was to die for. 

“God, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he said, fingers still rubbing you and his mouth immediately going on your breasts, kissing the skin and sucking on your nipples. You moaned out at both of the feelings of his hands and mouth on you. 

Suddenly you felt his finger dip into your wet hole, plunging them in and out of you as he curled his fingers up, hitting that soft spot of your upper walls. 

“Oh my, fuck,” you moaned out as Harry continued to kiss your tits. 

“You like that?” 

“Mhm. So good,” you felt as if you were about to come on his finger, but you held back, edging yourself and wanting the feeling to last longer. 

You looked down at his cock as it stood straight up and looked quite painful, but Harry didn’t show it; only focusing on your pleasure and getting you off. But you cared, so you licked your hand, and grabbed his cock, pumping it slowly. Harry hadn’t expected you to do that as he groaned, throwing his head back, exposing his neck, so you leaned forward, kissing and sucking on the skin of his collarbone; not wanting to go too high up because he does have a daughter.

“Like that, darling,” he moaned out while you were pumping your hand around the tip, learning that was probably his most sensitive spot. 

The thrusting of his fingers hadn’t stopped as well, alternating between fingering you and rubbing your clit as you started to grind against his hand. 

“Do you wanna fuck me?” You asked straightforwardly, slowing down your movements as did he. “It was part of my dream,” you added. 

“Y’know, you can just ask me to fuck you. Don’t have to say it was in your dream,” he smirked. 

“True, but it really was in my dream. That’s why I was practically humping your leg,” you chuckled. “It’s okay if it’s too soon, I’m close anyways.” 

“Yeah? Let me fuck with you then. Been wanting to feel you,” he smiled before turning around to grab a condom. He turned back around at you, his smile no longer there. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“I don’t have a condom.”

“Oh,” you said, trying to think if you had one in your purse. 

“I haven’t had sex in about two years, so I don’t have any.” 

“Yeah, I don’t think I have one either.” Neither of you said anything, trying to see how to resolve this situation. Harry could possibly go to the store quickly and get one, but you had a better idea. “We can go without one? I mean I’m clean. I have an IUD. I haven’t had sex in about a year, and I recently got tested and I’m clean,” you stated, and Harry nodded. 

“Okay. I got tested about a month or two ago, and I’m clean as well,” he told you, not giving you a straight answer. 

“So, yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

With that, he crashed his lips onto yours, gladly taking in the softness of them. You moaned against his lips as he grabbed your ass, pulling your body closer to his while squeezing. His hand made his way back to your clit, rubbing it relentlessly, causing you to whimper from the sensitivity, and you physically pulled his hand out from between your legs and looked him in the eye.

“Fuck me already,” you demanded. 

“Alright, alright. So bossy,” he teased, and you rolled your eyes. 

Your chests were pressed together as there was no change in position, just the two of you on your sides, facing each other. Harry reached between you, grabbing a hold of his cock before running the tip up and down your slit, collecting your wetness to coat it. You slightly bucked your hips, urging him to put himself inside of you already, and he chuckled at your eagerness, but obliged as he slowly pushed into you. 

The position was definitely different than what you were used to, but he was so deep into you that you felt him everywhere. You both groaned out, sighing in relief that you two finally made it this far. Harry started to thrust into you, grabbing your leg, placing it high on his hip, practically on the side of his stomach as he fucked you. 

“Holy fuck, yes. That feels so good,” you screamed out as you placed your hand on the side of his face. 

“So fuckin’ tight for me, yeah? Love the way I’m fuckin’ you?” He asked before taking in your lips with his quickly, and pulling away so you could answer him. 

“Mhm. So big. Just like that,” you said, feeling him every time he hit that lovely spot inside of you, making you moan loudly. 

“M’not gonna last,” he said, chest heaving deeply as continued thrusting. There was so much foreplay that happened before the fucking that he could’ve came with your gentle touch of your hand wrapped around his cock, and also because he hasn’t gotten a single bit of action in two years. 

“Me neither,” you agreed, bouncing the way you can as you met his thrusts. Harry’s tongue met one of your nipples as you continued your movements, trying to get both of you on edge of an orgasm. 

“Tell me what you need. Let me get you there,” he said, wanting to help you out. 

“Play with my clit,” you breathed out, and his hand immediately went in between you to rub your sensitive button. Once you felt his fingers on you, it didn’t take you long to reach your peak. “Oh... shit, H,” you let out, voice shaky as your orgasm surged through you, whimpering his name out into the air, not ashamed with how loud you were being, 

Harry took place of you, pounding into you as you rode your high. “There you go. That’s it, darling. Look so pretty cummin’ for me.” With sloppy thrusts, his orgasm rushed through him, finally releasing inside of you as groans came out and he smashed his face on the pillow. Moans of your name was practically all he knew as they came out muffled from the pillow. 

You pulled him into your chest to calm down from his high, and the hot and deep breaths against your skin made you warm up as you scratch his curly hair lightly. 

After a moment of being in each other’s arms, you felt his lips press against your collarbones, sucking the skin lightly. His head moved up to your neck, only kissing it as he knows not to leave love bites there because of work. 

He pulled his head back, laying his head next to you against the pillow as he lazily smiled, looking so fucked out as do you. You moved to cuddle into his side as he gladly took you into his arms. 

“That was amazing,” you said. 

“Really, really good,” he agreed. “Did I do your dream justice?” 

You giggled, completely forgetting that you started out telling him about your dream.

“Way better actually.” 

“Can’t believe you’re my girlfriend now,” an overwhelming feeling hits him as his face is in disbelief. 

“I can’t either. Do you think Bella would be happy?” You worriedly asked, hoping the little six year old, that you’ve grown to adore, would love to have you around often. 

“Please. She would be ecstatic. She loves you so much already. But how about we don’t tell her yet? Just have you around, so she could get used to you, and then we’ll tell her?” He suggested. 

“That’s actually a really great idea. I wanna make sure she likes me fully enough to tell her,” you said, and Harry nods his head, chuckling as you’re still not convinced Bella loves you already. 

“Can you believe after five years, we’re in this position?” 

You smiled fondly at the fact; you really couldn’t believe it nor would have guessed you would end up like this with Harry. But you knew all this time that he was a genuine person, and if he truly hated you from the beginning he wouldn’t have talked to you at all throughout the years. 

“It’s crazy, but I’m so happy,” you smiled at him, eyes gleaming with happiness as you placed your hand on his stubbled cheek.

“Me too. Does that mean you’re gonna stop stealing my mail?” He joked, making you laugh loudly; the voice echoing the room. He smiled at you as he watched you laugh, realizing that might be his one favorite sounds right next to you moaning his name. 

“Nah, I’m still gonna take your mail. But think I stole something else.” 

“What’s that?” 

“Well, I did steal your heart, right?” Harry blushed, a crimson red settling on his cheeks, and you gently pinched his cheek as you did the night prior. And he was right, he loved when you did that. 

“Who knew you would be cheesy,” he teased, and you playfully slapped his chest. “But yeah, you completely stole my heart.” You smiled, cuddling more into his che

As you two laid on his bed in each other’s arms, there was a comfortable feeling that you two felt, knowing that this has possibly got to be the most safe you both have ever felt. 

And as your chests pounded in sync, you thought that he had stolen your heart too, and you wouldn’t mind if he kept it. 

hope you loved it as much as i loved writing it! 

LETS CHAT IN MY INBOX ABOUT THIS! i’d love to hear your thoughts and feedback! <3

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[fictionalabyss]

She didn’t show.

Pairing : Dean x Various, Dean x Reader, Sam

Word count : 3,589

Written for : @spnfluffbingo​

Square :  Online dating.

Warnings : Flangst, online dating, unrequited love, catfishing, guilt, angry Dean, regret.

A/N : I had this idea, and ended up shoving it in this square for a fill and now I’m not thrilled with how it turned out. So this idea is going to eventually get re-done and given some proper justice. Until then, enjoy this version lol.

Masterlist • Patreon • Ko-fi.

SPN Fluff bingo 2020 Masterlist. 

Dean smirked to himself as he hurried past the library and towards the garage. His eyes were so focused on his phone, he didn’t notice he was being watched. “Where you headed?”

“Hot date.” his smile widened.

“Yeah? Finally treating your left hand to something nice after all the work it’s done for you?”

“Fuck off.” Dean snapped. “I’ll have you know it’s a real person.”

“Pictures or it didn’t happen.” you crossed your arms, leaning back in your chair. You were surprised when Dean stormed over and shoved his phone in your face. A blonde haired bombshell sitting on a classic car covered his screen. “Looks like something you’d find on some dudes calendar.” you chuckled.

“You’re just jealous that I’ve got a date.” he said smugly before walking away. “Don’t wait up.”

“For you? Never.” you laughed.

As Dean vanished from view, your phone chimed. You pulled out your phone and opened the app with the bright red notification.  Going to your messages you licked your lips as you read the latest one that had just come in.

> Can’t wait to finally meet you tonight.

Leaving it on read, you closed the app and hit the power button on your phone as Sam walked into the library, handing you a beer. “Where’d Dean go?”

“Manicure.”

“Manicure?” Sam stopped half way to his seat on the other side of the table and gave you a confused look.

“Said he had a hot date.” you shrugged. “I figure either a manicure, or maybe he’s going to buy some gloves.” Sam’s smile was bright and wide as it grew into a laugh. “You know, change it up a bit.”

“You're an ass.” Sam shook his head, still laughing as he finally got to his chair and sat down.

“You love me.” you lifted the drink to your lips.

“Didn’t you even consider that he might just have found some new porn so embarrassing he’s scared to watch it here?” you snorted, your drink almost coming out of your nose. “Yeah.. you’re right.. It’s Dean. He has no shame when it comes to porn.” Sam shook his head as you laughed hysterically.

“And what could possibly be worse than what he’s already watching?” you clutched at your stomach, sliding lower in the chair as Sam shuddered at the thought.

An hour and a half later, Dean walked back into the bunker, eyes on his phone with a glare as he mumbled.

“Dean?” Sam sat up straighter in his chair, watching as his brother stormed past.

“You’d think he’d be happier after such a hot date.” you mused.

“Fuck off.” Dean snapped. “I’m not in the fucking mood.” he growled before disappearing down the hall.

Getting up, you left Sam behind and went to find Dean. He was pacing around his room, eyes still on his phone. “Dean, you okay?”

“Peachy.”

“Dean-”

“She didn’t show, okay?” before you could say anything he turned to you, finger pointed right at your face. “And don’t you fucking laugh or give me some bullshit about how everyone gets stood up, I don’t.” he growled the last two words.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know.” he tossed his phone onto his bed. “I don’t fucking know.” he sighed. “One second she can’t wait to see me, the next.. ghosted.”

“Okay, but for real, Dean. Since when do you give a shit? Since when do you not just move on to the next?”

“I kinda liked her.” he mumbled quietly. “But whatever, right?” He shrugged. “Her loss?”

“Yeah. Her loss.” you gave him a smile. “Beer and pie?”

“There’s pie?”

“There’s pie.” you nodded.

“You’re so good to me.” Dean pulled you into a hug and you smiled, ducking your face against his chest as your arms went around his waist.

“What are friends for, Dean.” the sentiment earned you a kiss on the top of your head before he let you go and you headed for the kitchen.

“You’re in a good mood.” you smiled up at Dean from the motel room table as he walked in, coffee tray in hand. “Let me guess, waitress slipped you her number?” Dean chuckled and shook his head. “Really? Huh.. okay.. Uh.” you thought for a second. “Oh, soccer mom, fresh from school drop off is sexually frustrated cuz her husband is shit in the sack and you’re gonna give her exactly what the dr ordered?”

“You’re disgusting, no.” he shot you a look. “New state, new matches.” he smiled, putting down the coffee and pulling out his phone. “Matched up with this one girl-” you tuned him out as he showed you the girl he’d messaged while out getting coffee.

“Looks hot.” you mumbled, reaching for your cup and tearing your eyes away from his screen. Doing your best to hide the jealousy.

“She is.” he grinned. “You should see this one pic-”

“I don’t think Y/N wants to see some other woman's nudes, Dean.” Sam joked, stepping out of the bathroom in boxer briefs and a shirt, towel drying his hair.

“Of course she does.” Dean scoffed. “She’s my best wingman.”

“Actually, I need to piss. Been waiting for Sammy to get out of that bathroom since the turn of the century.” you laughed as you got up from your seat, leaving Dean laughing at his brothers expense behind you.

“I wasn’t that long.” Sam defended himself.

“Sure there, Rapunzel. “ Dean laughed as the door shut behind you.

Once locked away from them in the privacy of the bathroom, the smile you had plastered to your face fell. Another one? He already had another one? It was the third girl he’d talked to so far this month. Was he planning on meeting her? Fucking her? Of course he was, otherwise he wouldn’t be smiling like an idiot.  Pulling out your phone, you opened the app, signed out, and signed up creating a new profile. You kept everything basic but intriguing, found a random picture on google that you knew would grab attention, and hit create. Taking a deep breath, you got to work, swiping past various people as you flushed the unused toilet and ran the water in the sink for a moment. You finished up on your phone, tucked it back into your pocket and stepped out.

“What's your excuse?” Sam teased, poking at how long you were in the bathroom.

“Coffee.” you answered. “You want the details?”

“No ma’am.” Sam was quick to turn back to his own coffee, smile gone from his lips.

“Didn’t think so.”

“Hope you sprayed.” Dean muttered, eyes on his phone.

“Yeah, entire bottle of that cheap cologne you bought for that date last month.” Dean’s eyes shot up and he glared.

“Oof, that bathroom must smell nasty now.” Sam teased.

“Both of you can fuck off, okay, it smelled good.”

“So good she didn’t show up.” Sam teased with a laugh.

“Fuck you both.” Dean spat, getting up from his chair and storming out of the room.

“Think we took it too far, Sammy.”

“He’s done it to me enough times. Since when does he buy cologne anyways?”

“Fuck if I know.”

“Did you really spray it?” Sam asked.

“No.” You laughed. “I threw it out a week ago. He hasn’t noticed yet. We’ll just pretend he left it behind somewhere.” you put your finger to your lips to signal it was your little secret.

“Deal. I hope I never smell it again.” Sam scrunched up his face before opening his laptop. “Did Dean get those files from the sheriff?”

“Yeah, I think so..” As you reached for Dean's bag, your phone chimed. Peaking into his duffle, you saw the folders sitting on top and pulled them out, handing them to Sam.

“Maybe we can figure this out while he throws his tantrum.” Sam muttered as you pulled out your phone.

“Yeah.. maybe.” you answered quietly, opening the dating app and seeing you had a new match. You smiled to yourself as you clicked to send a private message.

< For some reason I was feeling a little off today. But when you came along, you definitely turned me on ;)

It was ballsy. Forward and crude could go very wrong, but it just might make him laugh and you were hoping it would. You waited, baited breath as ‘read’ appeared on the screen but nothing followed. You waited a few minutes, pretending to research on your phone before you cursed yourself and closed the app. Your gamble had failed.

With a sigh, you opened your browser and started to actually research. “What’s wrong?” Sam glanced over.

“Dead end.” you lied.

“Yeah.. it’s a rough one.” he nodded, eyes back on his laptop again.

A moment later, your phone went off again.

> Impala67 : Are you a parking ticket, because you’ve got FINE written all over you.

> Impala67 : I’m Dean, by the way.

< Charlotte.

> Impala67 : Nice to meet you, Charlotte.

You expected Dean to come back after an hour pissed, but he didn’t. You didn’t see him until some time a bit after 4:30. “I take it the date went well?” you tried to hide the bite in your tone and were thankful enough he was still enjoying enough of his post fuck high to miss it.

“Didn’t show, but quickly recovered.” he winked as he shut the motel room door behind him. “Why you up so early? Did you wait up for me?” his smile got wider.

“No. You said we were leaving at 5am, remember?”

“Okay but it’s-”

“Almost 5. And Sam’s showering.”

“I’ll just use yours-”

“I’m already checked out.” you turned your attention to your phone. “Next time, take others into consideration, please.”

“What the fuck is up your ass?” he snapped. “Since when do you care where I am or when I get back?”

“Since either I have to smell the stench coming off of you the whole drive, or we’re behind schedule.” you got up from your seat and grabbed your bag. “I’ll be in the car, praying you didn’t fuck in my seat.”

“They’re all my damn seats.” he snapped at you as the door shut behind you. “What the fuck is going on?”

You were behind Dean in the car, he’d jumped in a quick shower, even changed his clothes but when you looked up your eyes were drawn to the dark mark on his neck. Rolling your eyes, you unlocked your phone, signed out of the app and created a new profile.

“What’s gotten into her?” you heard him mumble to Sam.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

You glanced up, and Dean's eyes were on you in the rear-view, but you were quick to look back down at your phone.. “Never mind.” he sighed. “Forget it.”

Another city, another stand up, another pissed off Dean, and then it was back home to Lebanon. The recently finished case on no one's mind. Dean's mood was shit. It was the 12th time he’d been stood up and he was swearing he was done with the dating apps. Fed up with women ghosting him like he was some chump.

You were answering messages on your phone when Dean slammed on the breaks, making you hit the back of the seat in front of you and drop your phone.

“HEY ASSHOLE! YOU NEVER SEE A FUCKING STOP SIGN BEFORE?” Dean was screaming out the window, much to Sam’s embarrassment. The guy flipped him off and Dean revved his engine ready to follow.

“Dean.” Sam warned.

“Whatever.” he surged the car forward, making you fly back against the seat again. With a sigh and a head shake to Sam who’d glanced back at you, you looked out the window and waited for the bunker to come into sight.

Dean was still sitting in his car, parked in the bunker garage. He couldn’t figure it out, and he was trying. Was it something he was saying? Was he being too eager? Too desperate? Too cocky? No, this always worked for him, he hadn’t changed anything. Maybe it just wasn’t how shit worked online, but why agree to meet up if they weren’t going to show..

He was deep in thought when he heard a phone chime. He sighed and pulled out his, but saw no notifications. That confused him until he heard another chime. He glanced around and into the back seat. It took him a minute, but then he spotted it, your phone down on the floor. You must have dropped it when he’d slammed on his brakes when that asshole almost plowed right into him and forgot it. Leaning over the back of the seat, he reached for it.

He was making his way out of the garage when your phone chimed again, and he looked down at the screen as it lit up with the notification. “Dude is coming in hot.” he laughed seeing the beginning of the message some guy had sent. “Is this the kinda shit chicks like?”

Curious now, he swiped his thumb across your screen and was surprised it unlocked without some kind of code. He’d scold you about that later, because he knew he’d get an earful right back for snooping.

He recognized the app that opened. It was the same dating one he’d been trying out. He had no idea you were on there and wondered why he’d never come across your profile. “Why does she even need online dating?” he wondered, reading the messages from some strange guy.  Dude was bold, coming on too strong, and he could see your messages were half teasing, but mostly uninterested.

Then he saw the name. “Son of a bitch.”

“You!?” You spun around as Dean stormed into your room, your phone in his hand, and your eyes shot right to it. “It was fucking you!?”

“De-”

“Were they all you?” he demanded, and you clamped your mouth shut. “They were, weren’t they?” he scoffed. “I can’t believe you. I thought we were friends, who the fuck does that to someone? Do you know how fucked up that is?” he unlocked your phone and showed off the messages with him that had spanned the last week and a half until he got stood up and you stopped responding. “Why would you do this to me? WHY!?”

“I’m-”

“Don’t you fucking tell me your sorry.” he growled. “Sorry doesn’t mean shit to me right now, sorry doesn’t even begin to fucking cover what you did to me. I thought it was me. I thought I was the fucking problem, but it wasn’t. It was you.” he shot your phone onto your bed.

Tears blurred your eyes. “Dean, I-”

“I don’t want to hear it. I don’t even want to fucking see you.” he spat before storming out.

You stood there staring at the spot on the floor he vacated. Fighting not to let the tears loose. You’d fucked up. You’d fucked up so bad and there was no taking it back. Swallowing, you turned and started re-packing the bag that you’d be unpacking when he stormed in.

You were working on your second bag when you heard Sam sigh from the doorway. “Why’d you do it?”

“Doesn’t matter.” you mumbled, not turning to face him. Not wanting to see the same look his brother had given you before storming out.

“It matters to him.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Where are you going to go?” Sam asked after a moment of silence.

“I don’t know. But I’m not wanted here anymore, so..” you zipped up the bag and grabbed your phone and keys before slinging one of the bags over your shoulder and grabbing the other.. “It is what it is.”

“Keep in touch, at least?”

“No promises. Good bye, Sam.” and with that, you walked past him and headed for the garage and your car that had been parked there for months.

Before deleting the app, you send out one last message, an apology. Then you deleted all accounts, deleted the app and changed your number. You’d driven off beyond the Midwest and out of their lives, trying your best to never look back, but it was hard. You’d been moving from motel to motel, hunt to hunt like you use to years ago. You’d gotten so use to having somewhere to settle, somewhere to call home. Now all you had was shitty diners, shitty beer, and even worse motel rooms.

It had been about 4 months since you walked out of the bunker. You were tired, and lonely, but no one in the bar you sat at caught your interest, so you finished off your beer and left. The 10 minute walk back to the motel in the cool air doing nothing for your mood. But nothing had been able to lift your mood in a long time.

You walked into your motel room and looked around. It was time to move on, you’d been here a week too long already, but you weren’t sure where to go next. Dropping onto the bed, you grabbed your laptop and started to look for a case.

A knock sounded on your door, and you ignored it. Then again. The third time it was louder. “I’M NOT FUCKING INTERESTED.” you yelled out, only for whoever it was to pound on the door this time. “Jesus fuck.. Take a goddamn hint-” the words died on your lips when you yanked the door open and saw him standing there. “Dean..”

“About fucking time.” he muttered stepping past you and into the room, looking around at the mess. “Looks cozy.” he teased.

“A real home away from home.” you muttered, shutting the door.

“Speaking of, when are you coming back?” he glanced back at you behind him. “I think your tantrum lasted long enough, don’t you?”

“I’m not.” you gave him a confused look. “You didn’t want to see me again, remember? So I left. Why are you here, Dean?”

“Couldn’t exactly call you.” he pointed out. “Numbers disconnected.”

“Changed it.”

“Yeah. And ghosted me again.”

“Again, you didn’t want to see me again.” you pointed out. “What do you want from me?”

“I want to know why. Why’d you do that to me, you have to admit, it was fucked up.” You sigh as you cross the space and drop back onto your bed, staying quiet. Dean sits so he’s facing you and asks again. “Why’d you do it?”

“Because I love you, you dumbass.”

“You-” his brow furrowed as he watched you, you were looking down at your hands like you were afraid to look at him. “How does that even make sense? Why didn’t you just say something?”

“I did.. I tried.” you were picking at the skin around your nail. “But you didn’t seem to notice. You were meeting girls at bars, at diners, and then you started with the app.. You had more dates, spent more and more time on your phone.. I can’t compete with that, Dean. I got jealous, I got upset. I made that first profile not thinking I’d actually get anywhere, but then I did, you saw me, you talked to me like you talked to them and I got lost in that feeling, it felt so good to finally be seen. But then you wanted to meet. And I got scared. Scared that you’d be disappointed it was just me, but I couldn’t bring myself to say no to you, I never could.”

“So you said yes and didn’t show?”

You nodded. “And you were upset, and I felt bad. But I wanted that feeling again, I wanted more than anything to be anyone but me just so you’d see me again. So I became someone else. Always someone else. Catfishing you seemed to be the only way to get your attention. You liked me, Dean. Each and every time it was me and you seemed to like me, but when I acted like that with you, face to face.” you shrugged and finally looked up again. “Sometimes even saying the exact same things, I got nowhere. I was your wingman, I was your friend, but you couldn’t see me beyond that, and I should have just accepted it. I should have respected that I was nothing more and this was one sided and just moved on. I realize that now, and I’m sorry."

Dean was watching you, taking it all in. Processing. He could see the guilt all over your face, the tears stinging your eyes, he knew you meant that apology more than anything. To be honest, he’d forgiven you months ago, but now he had answers to process.

“I’m sorry I fucked up.” you continued. “I’m sorry I fucked up our friendship. I regret it, I regret all of it. I miss you, I miss having a best friend, I miss having a home.” the tears started running down your cheeks and Dean reached out to wipe them away.

“Then come home.”

“I can’t. It can’t go back to the way it was. I can’t just sit there, and watch you with someone else, or-”

Dean cut you off, pressing his lips gently to yours before pulling back again. “Come home. I miss you too.”

“I hurt you..” you whispered.

“Yeah, you did.” he agreed. “We’ll figure it out. Because you’re right, I did like you. I loved our late night chats, I love how dirty you get in DMs, and I miss my closest friend by my side. Come home with me.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.” he smiled. “Don’t ghost me this time.”

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[tazzytypes]

Apocalypse: Sanctuary - Chapter 9

Hey Guys! I’m back at it with another chapter! Will I ever write anything shorter than 7,000 words? Probably not lol. As always, thank you for your continued support. I love hearing what you guys think of the story -- parts you like, parts that make you wonder, parts you find amusing, everything <3

Read more on Ao3 or find more chapters on the Masterpost!

The place was empty, a shell of a thing made to feel like someone lived in it. It was a temporary office, after all. Venable wasn't foolish enough to leave Langdon a single scrap of information. Em was hitting dead ends everywhere she looked… then again, she was a diversion.

She’d never had a good look at the office before. Venable never called anyone to it and Langdon was a viper you didn’t want to take your eyes off of. It certainly had a unique design. Em imagined they had the numerous candles to thank for that, casting strange shadows around the room. It made it feel like there was always something moving out of the corner of your eye.

There was a partition that led to god knows where across from the main door made of a darker wood to serve as an accent wall of sorts. It probably led to a lounging area given the pattern of the other rooms in the outpost. In front of it was Langdon’s desk, seen right as you entered the room. Two side tables had been rearranged to hold candles, wax hardening as it dripped over the sides.

To the right of the desk was a spiral staircase… again leading to some destination she couldn’t even begin to guess. Beyond that was a wine cabinet. It was empty, more for decoration than storage. A good spot to place a pitcher of water and expensive Waterford crystal glasses.

The fireplace roared to the far left, surrounded by the two armchairs they had sat in before. Another sofa was on the wall near the door and she had a feeling Langdon arranged them however he needed.

Her mother used to watch those shows on interior design. The arrangement of furniture psychologically did something or other. Em had always been more interested in abnormal psychology than environmental. She imagined it was like a painting, the flow of it directing the viewer to what the artist wanted them to see.

That certainly sounded like something Langdon would do.

Em’s focus, therefore, was on the desk. It was situated out of the flow, the farthest thing away from the fire save for the wine cabinet. She stood on the other side, looking for anything she could.

On the back of his chair was a red scarf that reminded her of one she had before the bombs. It was always her favorite and she always paired it with her favorite dress. God, she’d give anything to wear that dress instead of the constricting skirts that—

Focus — she reminded herself. Her anxiety was making her thoughts go haywire. Langdon was getting into her head. Memories weren’t going to save her. Holding onto the past wasn’t going to save her. Her rage wouldn’t save her.

Manila folders were scattered on the desk. Her hands hovered over the one with her name on it, but she forced herself to look past them. As curious as she was, knowing if Langdon thought she was a good candidate or not wasn’t going to get her any closer to the truth. Desk drawers were where he’d hide the things he didn’t want to be seen.

Tying her hair up with a ribbon, Em crouched down. The doors weren’t locked… the desk older and expensive. That only meant she didn’t have to leave behind another hairpin.

There wasn’t much. She wasn’t expecting anything. If Langdon had secrets, they’d be in his room. She wondered if Timothy and Emily had found anything yet. They had told her to be a distraction, but they never told her how long she needed to be one.

“Are you sure you don’t want backup?” Emily asked.

Em shook her head, voice coming out dull and tired, “Like I told you: I’ve already crossed myself off the list of survivors.”

The night before she had hardly been able to sleep. Fever dreams plagued her every time she closed her eyes. She only remembered flashes. It gave her the feeling of being somewhere between a revelation and an acid trip. All she recalled was choking, gasping for air. Her stomach burned with something more than starvation and the world spun around her.

“It’s probably one of his games,” Emily noted, not bothering to hide the venom from her voice.

Her words pulled Em out of her reverie.

“Cat and mouse,” the brunette noted with a sigh.

“He can still make your life worse,” Timothy reminded. Sending a worried glance to Emily.

Em scoffed, “Only if I let him.”

The top drawer was small, enough to fit the vial of pills Langdon had shown them. Glancing back at the door, Em plucked one out and put it in her pocket. Insurance — she told herself like she was a spy out of noir mystery.

Second drawer down was filled with random books from the library. Nothing more than an original Hawthorne and other similar authors. She flipped through them, looking for a note-card or even something written in the margins. A few coffee stains were the most she was able to find.

Reaching in for the last book, she was surprised when she pulled out a journal. It wasn’t old and certainly wasn’t Victorian, something you would have found in a Target or Staples. A quick flip through revealed handwriting. Langdon's? No. There was a message written inside the cover which read: ‘Michael — May this be a symbol of—’

Em’s head flicked to the door as she heard approaching footsteps. Quickly, she threw the books back in the order she had found them. Then closed the drawer as quietly as she could before she threw herself into the chair across from the desk.

The door opened a few moments later and she evened her breathing. Footsteps paused, the person behind her halting before continuing to move.

“I must say you never fail to surprise me,” Langdon noted as he approached, footsteps slow and even behind her, “I don’t recall calling you for an interview.”

He paused at her shoulder, eyes glimmering with amusement. Langdon was eager to hear what excuses she would create. Em had imagination. It made everything she said all the more interesting.

“I came to see you,” was all she gave him, looking over her shoulder as he smirked and broke from her gaze and rounded the desk.

“Come now,” he said, voice light and amused. Blue eyes scanned over the files that weren’t even a hair out of place and gesturing towards her as he sat. “I know you too well to believe that.”

Em didn’t respond, a slight raise of her brow and twitch of her lip the only reaction he could gauge.

He chuckled and shook his head, hands placed on the desk on either side of him.

“Venable would call this an offense worthy of execution,” Langdon noted, attempting to sound intimidating. She showed no fear. He didn’t expect her to.

“And you?” she prompted, her mouth moving before she could think. The adrenaline made her feel detached from her body like someone else was pulling the strings.

The blond leaned forward, putting his elbows on the desk and resting his head on top of his fists.

“I find it amusing,” He noted, “what did you find?”

Em smirked, “nothing interesting.”

She watched his brows raise, “Oh?”

“You knew someone was going to come in here,” she noted, “or you were hoping someone might.”

The man showed no emotion. Sometimes it felt like he knew exactly what she was going to say. Either he was reading her mind or entertaining her like the cops did when conspiracy theorists came around talking about aliens. She felt like the latter more than the former on most days.

“Did I?”

“A man so intent on secrecy wouldn’t leave confidential files on his desk and his door unlocked.”

“You’re a fascinating candidate, for sure,” Langdon noted, face brightening with a grin as he fell back into his seat.

Em shrugged, “I’d say the same, but I don’t really know you.”

The man cocked his head, “don’t you?”

“You’ve made sure of it.”

Whatever glee he had found in their exchange was quickly smothered. The tone of her voice made it clear that past incidents would not be forgotten. He knew she’d be a better friend than foe.

Lips pressing into a thin line, Langdon sighed. He rose and gestured to the fire. Em watched him as he round the desk and sauntered towards the armchairs before making a move to follow. His movements were slow and methodical, taking his time as he searched for the right words to say. His knuckles rested on his lips as he sat, reminding her of the statue The Thinker.

“I feel as though we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot,” He finally said as she sat. She turned her chair to face him and he did the same. “I can appreciate someone who searches for truth above all else.”

Em only laughed, “You’re going to tell me the truth? We’ve danced this dance already.”

A rueful look crossed his face as he chuckled only to mirror her own laughter. He couldn’t blame her for not trusting him. If he was in her seat, he wouldn’t believe a word that came out of his mouth. If he were to gain her trust his actions would have to speak louder than his words.

“Then I promise no more deception,” he proposed, “As long as you do so in turn.”

Her eyes burned him, searching his eyes for something. He met her gaze which showed no sign of turning away. This moment would change everything.

“A momentary truce?” she asked, fishing for specifics. When you made a deal with the devil you had to eliminate loopholes. A buzz filled her body… probably from anxiety and giving her a feeling that made the world feel like a dream.

“A promise.” The blond assured, voice as earnest as he knew how to be. Their conversation had become hushed and intense as if the world would cave in on itself if they spoke too loudly.

“Promises are a dangerous thing,” she noted, “I find many do not put as much weight into them as I do.”

The man made no rebuttal. Any word would be hollow and without true meaning. He just stared at her and waited, hoping she would find the evidence of truth she was searching for in his eyes.

He had played her before, making her think she was important. This time she could predict his moves. It would require double and triple-checking over each piece of information he gave her. She'd have to work under the assumption he was always lying, but—

“Alright,” She relented, “What are your terms?”

Langdon’s shoulders fell, the tension in them finally dissipating.

“Simple,” He assured, “Nothing I tell you leaves these walls; nothing is to be said to the others about our bargain, and nothing will be done to compromise my mission.”

Em took in the information and nodded. She expected as much. She looked at her feet and considered her options for a moment before raising her head, a hand held out.

“Deal.”

He took her hand and shook it, squeezing it to convince himself it was there. When he looked into her eyes, however, he found that nothing had changed. The pupils dilated and held the same amount of scrutiny as before. If he wanted her on his side, he’d have to work for it.

Em’s heart leapt in her chest the second she took his hand. She was making a deal with a devil and she knew the weight in that. Only time would tell if she had sold her soul for nothing. Either way, better the devil you knew than the devil you didn’t. Besides… she was good at working with loopholes.

***

Dinner was tense. Then again, it was always tense. More so with Langdon’s presence. He never joined them, but it felt like he was lingering in every shadow. He was the bogeyman of Outpost Three.

Em had been quiet during dinner. Emily assumed her silence was from nerves. They had completed their investigation earlier in the day. The brunette was no doubt itching for answers and Emily was itching to provide them. The computer was their pot of gold, the ultimate weapon against Venable’s rule.

After dinner, they retired to the salon for mandatory cocktails. Coco’s complaining had once again turned to boasting about almost everything. She acted like she was already one of the survivors, Gallant joining in for good measure. Emily’s mother always said the best thing to bring what you wanted into your life was to act like you already had it. It was probably some kind of psychological method Em no doubt had a definition for. Coco's behavior was something else entirely. It was pattern of behavior even Emily knew the definition for — overcompensation.

In the light of the fire, Em’s eyes looked different. They looked colder…more calculated. It was as if staring into the fireplace would make it explode and put an end to the nonsense that surrounded them.

Em was reflecting on her deal and the darkness that had consumed her soon after. The whole thing felt like a dream, like she wasn’t in full control of her body. Perhaps it was just her anxiety… that, mixed with starvation, would make her light-headed and give her a dream-like feeling across her body.

She didn’t remember leaving his office, coming to in the middle of dinner. Another blackout. The feeling was like being put under during a medical operation, a blink of an eye and you were awake once again. It didn’t help that her whole body felt like it was buzzing, her bones feeling like they were shaking in her skin. It was unpleasant, to say the least.

Emily spared another glance at her friend who was now closing her eyes and pinching her nose. Another migraine, most likely. Coco’s monologuing probably wasn’t helping the fact.

She leaned back on Timothy with a sigh. Raising her glass to her lips, she waited for the required socialization to be over. Brown eyes flickered over her companions. Dinah and Andre were whispering amongst each other, no doubt mocking the blonde given the flickering smiles that came to their lips. Gallant seemed to be the only one actually giving Coco his full attention and even he had a distant look in his eye.

Her eyes raised to the balcony above them, Greys running here and there. They didn’t even turn their heads at Coco’s theatrics. There was one carrying laundry, another polishing the railing. Emily scanned over each one until her eyes rested upon an outlier.

There Langdon stood, golden hair catching the light and staring down at them. Following his gaze, she found his eyes rested upon her friend who was staring into the fire. When she looked back up at the man, she found his eyes on her and she quickly averted her gaze.

“Langdon’s watching,” she whispered to Timothy.

“What?” He asked, stiffening a bit and moving to turn until Emily whacked him on the arm.

“Don’t!’ she hissed.

“I’m just saying,” Coco went on, patting at her hair like a model about to walk on a catwalk. She was loud enough to pull everyone out of their thoughts… probably intentional. “if anyone should be chosen it should be someone who knows how to empathize with others.”

Andre scoffed, eying the girl up and down with disdain, “You have the empathy of a snake.”

Em sighed as the buzzing became more intense. Why couldn’t they have one quiet evening? Her vision swam for a moment before images flashed in front of her eyes — dead bodies on the floor, foam gathering at their mouths.

Then she was back in the salon, pain striking through her head like someone had stabbed her with an icepick. Pressing her head into her hands, she willed it to go away, but the abrasive voices of her companions ensured it didn’t and her pain surged with every word.

“Look,” Coco snapped, smirking at the man as her head bobbed, “people want to be me. They follow me because they see something they like — that’s useful.”

Evie laughed, light and mocking, “Exploitation is hardly a marketable trait.”

“No one asked you!” Coco snipped, turning on the woman like a shark smelling blood in the water, “Maybe that’s why your acting career tanked. People find someone younger more relatable.”

“People follow you for the same reason they watch reality TV,” Em finally spoke. Her voice was bored and distant. “to look at your life and thank god it's not theirs… to laugh at your ignorance and missteps.”

Coco gaped before huffing, chest rising and falling with labored breaths. She sputtered out responses she couldn’t hear.

A large smirk had crawled across Gallant’s face, eyes crinkling with amusement. He lowered his glasses to stare at the pair with his own eyes. It was distasteful.

“Oh, shut up, Gallant,” Em snapped as he let out a barking laugh, “you’re hardly any better.”

“Who pissed in your cheerios?” Coco finally snapped, glaring at the girl.

Em’s voice was frighteningly calm, “You. For a year or so you’ve sounded like a Snapchat ad on loop. Your hypocrisy was annoying at first but—”

“I don’t have to deal with this!”

Coco rose from her seat like a fire was on her ass. Her face red from either rage or embarrassment… or both.

“Up! Yours!” she shouted, stalking away and pausing at Gallant’s shoulder. When he didn’t move, she gave him a look and kicked at his foot. The man sighed and slowly followed after her. Turning on his heel, he raised a glass at the room before downing it and placing it in the hands of a nearby Grey. They could hear Coco’s raving as she hurried down the halls — mostly Em’s name and choice expletives.

The woman in question only sighed and took a sip of water. Her head thanked her for removing the object of its irritation. Emily looked at the rest of the room, on edge but none the less relieved.

“Finally, some peace and quiet,” she muttered, earning a few chuckles in response. Timothy rose his own glass to hers.

“Cheers to that.”

The rest of the room raised their glasses. Silently, they threw back their drinks and resumed their nightly ritual of staring off in the distance and wondering what their fate may be.

***

There was only one place in the outpost no one came to. The library was her sanctuary, but even it was prone to invasion by Timothy, Emily, or anyone else who knew her. Here, however, she was safe for as long as she wished.

It was the staple of a luxury private boys’ school, a grand piano that sat front and center of a circular room with high ceilings. A tightly wound spiral staircase off to the side, framed by Greek marble columns. A door sat on every level but rarely did one walk through them. Bookcases framed the room, tall enough to warrant a finely crafted ladder. Every page on the shelf pertained to music — dedicated to either theory or song.

Gallant and Coco had found the room when they first arrived. Em would come to it only to turn around when the grating sound of bad notes echoed down the hall. They had soon grown bored of it, much to her relief.

Andre used to linger there with Stu, eyes filled with adoration as he watched him play. Sometimes they’d duet, one taking the low notes and the other the high. Em remembered the laugher. The memory of it was enough to make her cry. She didn’t blame the man for never returning.

She was no Mozart... Certainly no Stu, but she knew enough to pluck chords to her favorite songs. Em had never truly learned to play. Her reading of bass cleft was painfully slow, but she had a good ear. After some practice and a few improvisations, the songs came to sound somewhat presentable.

The only good thing her father gave her was music. He had been in a band… ‘had’ being the keyword. Instruments littered their house, unused and untouched for years. Em would always wait for him to leave to play them.

Hands skimmed over the keys. Long and dainty fingers twitched as she searched for a note and settled into place. When she needed to quiet her mind, she’d try to remember the chords to her favorite songs. Music pushed anxious thoughts to the background and all that mattered was the melody. The intro to City of Stars echoed upwards, a piece she had mastered back in high-school.

Who knew four years later she’d be in high-school 2.0?

She missed her friends. The people here were cruel and callused, so rich that she couldn’t relate to them if she tried. Emily and Timothy tried their best but fell short in the memory of those she’d left behind. Some she knew upwards of a decade. They were dead… all dead.

“I don’t want to die, Em,” they had begged, “please don’t let me die.”

Each one of them deserved so much more. They were more qualified than Coco, more qualified than Gallant, more qualified than any purple in this fucking hellhole.

City of Stars devolved into Moonlight Sonata. She only remembered the first page or so, some of the notes added in because she thought they sounded right. It was a peaceful, but she always played it with anger. Each note she hit with intensity, giving a feeling of doom more than serenity. It was the type of anger than accompanied grief, the gaping void it left where your heart once beat.

“How long have you played?”

Langdon thought he was being stealthy, but her reaction told him that she knew he was there the whole time. She only sighed, fingers running over a scale as he came to stand beside her.

“I was never formally trained... not for long, at least,” she said, “I use to try and play songs on an out of tune piano before that.”

“Classical or modern?”

Em smiled a bit, “If you count the first few stanzas of Moonlight Sonata as classical training.”

“I fancy the violin myself.” He noted, watching her pluck out another tune.

“I as well,” she said, “that instrument I know far better.”

He smiled and motioned to the seat beside her on the bench, brow raised in an unasked question. Em waved a hand and he sat, watching her fingers as she plucked out a small, quiet melody. It was her way of fidgeting.

“Who are we mourning?” He asked, leaning on his knees. He had turned opposite of her, facing the door as she faced the piano. It give her some semblance of space.

She didn’t look at him, focus still on the notes, “Who says I was mourning?”

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and he hummed, “your reaction to Coco says otherwise.”

“What?” She said, stopping the music to give him her full attention, “You can read minds now?”

“Not yours,” he admitted, looking into her eyes, “but I’d like to think I can make an educated guess.”

The brunette pulled away from his gaze, hitting a note with her finger and letting it sit.

“You play?”

He dropped the subject.

“No,” he admitted, turning around to face the piano, “never had the time.”

With two fingers he tapped out to play basic chopsticks.

“It’s all math, you know,” she told him, watching him hit random notes, “or at least so they say.”

Langdon grinned, unsurprised, “you say otherwise.”

“I don’t see math,” Em explained, hands hovering over the keys once more, “I see patterns that turn into a larger story.”

“A story?”

She placed her hands over the keys, her hand but a breath away from his own as she began to play.

Then she began to sing, “It goes like this the fourth, the fifth, the minor chord and the major lift. The baffled king composing hallelujah.”

“I’ve never been one for religion,” He told her once she trailed off, voice a quiet murmur. If he shifted over even an inch, her face would be a breath away from his own.

“It’s not a song about religion,” she corrected, turning to face him and finally realizing their proximity. Her eyes flickered to his lips, but she made no attempt to move away. “It’s a song about faith. Judaism is much different than Christianity. It's based more in culture than our typical conventions of religion.”

“Faith is fragile,” Langdon noted, “it makes things seem stronger than they really are.”

“It’s the closest mortals can get to divinity,” Em countered, “to look upon something and... completely believe in it without a single doubt.”

A sad smile came to her lips, “I may not envy the religious, their rules and structures, but… I envy their faith.”

Her eyes finally rested on his and Langdon felt like he was really and truly seeing her for the first time.

“Do you have faith in anything?” he asked after a beat of silence.

“No,” She answered, her response needing little thought, “it’s why I envy them.”

Langdon smiled the same rueful smile she had moments before. They stared at each other. Em realized if she leaned in only a few inches she’d be close enough to kiss him. The question was if she wanted to kiss him or if he wanted to manipulate her into kissing him. She realized her hand had come to sit atop his own.

“We’re being honest, yes?” Em finally asked after a moment of consideration.

Langdon simply hummed an affirmative, more focused on her hand than anything else.

“Why do you seek me out? Why do you call me to meetings more and find me when you don’t?”

He chuckled a bit, so quiet Em could hardly hear it, “that is the question. One I’ve been asking myself over and over.”

Em was afraid to ask the next question, but she knew it needed to come out to the open.

“Does this actually mean anything or—”

“Yes,” he answered as her mouth opened to speak the next word, “it does.”

Finally, she let out a breath, nodding as she took in the information.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

Langdon’s eyes looked almost pained, but he knew her pause was logical. It was the same logic that made him wonder if she was using him to survive.

“You don’t,” he said, more an observation than a response.

Her lips pressed into a line, eyes flickering away from his as she tried to find the words to say.

“In your first interview,” he noted, “you said your sexuality was complicated. Why?”

“Asexuality,” she explained. Her words came out slow as she weighed each one in her mouth before speaking them into the world. “means I don’t feel sexual attraction. Aesthetic and emotional attraction, yes, but I can’t look at a stranger and—”

She sighed, “In a relationship in which I fully and completely have trust in the other… maybe. But it would be more of an emotional connection than a sexual one to me.”

“A relationship based in faith,” he noted.

“Exactly,” she said. Green eyes flickered away from his once more. “and that is something which is earned, not given.”

“And you won’t until you see your name on the list of survivors.”

Her brows knitted and her eyes focused on their hands. It sounded so manipulative when he said it that way, but it was true. That was the only way for Langdon to prove he wasn’t playing a game with her, using her emotions as a mean to an end and even then—

Langdon turned his head as he heard something down the hall, pulling away from her and raising from the seat. Em suddenly felt cold, her body growing accustomed to his presence. She watched as he buttoned his dinner jacket and straightened his sleeves.

“We’ll speak again soon,” he assured, voice back to the one he used in interviews when he was nothing more than a Cooperative representative.

“Goodnight,” She said, voice quiet, “Mr. Langdon.”

“Goodnight, Emily,” He said, dipping his head in a final farewell. Then he was gone.

She waited back a good while, trying to clear her mind with music and failing miserably. What were her feelings towards him? What were her feelings towards her fellow residents? Could she really sit here while Emily and Timothy—

Her head began to buzz and she started the trek back to her room. Pace slow and steady, a million thoughts filled every step. Brows furrowed and showed no sign of relaxing. It wasn’t until she caught movement out of the corner of her eyes that she was pulled out of her own head.

Down the hall stood a black figure in Latex with its back to her. Breath hitching in her throat, she watched it walk down the hall and pause outside Gallant’s room. She stumbled backward towards her door, hand shaking as she tried to unlock it with her key.

It fell to the ground with a sharp metallic sound and her eyes flew wide as the figure turned to her. The lack of features terrified her and she rushed to grab the key, shoving it into the lock and rushing into the room.

Em slammed the door shut, pressing her back to it as she turned the lock. She stood there for a long moment, picturing each step the thing would take.

Covering her mouth, she quieted her breathing so she could hear footsteps. There were none. Not for one second… not for two… not for ten. A loud slamming of a door made her jump, the thing taking another path. Perhaps she wasn’t much of a threat… or maybe it was trying to lure her out.

Taking quick strides across the room, she grabbed the chair from her desk and dragged it across the floor. With deft hands, she placed it under the knob and tested it a few times to make sure the chair wouldn’t topple to the ground.

There was something about that thing… person… whatever it was. It made the air feel thick around her — more like tar than oxygen. It didn’t feel like a person. It felt like a sentient shadow.

***

“Gallant!” Coco exclaimed as the hairstylist entered the salon. It was late, only a few Greys in the halls. The man in question looked disheveled. His shirt had become untucked and hair poking up in all directions as if he had just woken from a nap. He picked up a glass of water and eyed it before taking a sip. “Gallant! Gallant!”

He had barely a moment to turn towards the woman before she was hurrying up to him, biting her lip to keep whatever she was going to say from bursting forth. She patted at the air in front of her, aiming for his hand but missing terribly.

“I just saw the craziest thing.”

He quirked his brow, thinking of his rendezvous a few minutes ago and playing dumb. “What?”

Coco either didn’t notice or didn’t care. She pulled the man to the couch like a child at Christmas and looked around to ensure they weren’t overheard.

“I just saw Langdon and Emily kiss,” she whispered, “Well… almost kiss. There was more talking than anything, really, but—”

Gallant gave the woman a look, brows scrunching in confusion, “I thought Emily had the hots for Timothy? Aren’t they like… dating?”

“No!” Coco exclaimed with a roll of her eyes before quieting her voice once more, “Not that Emily!”

Gallant sighed, twirling the water in his hand, “this is why we gave them nicknames.”

“That’s not important!” Coco hissed, “What if she’s like… seducing him to get into the sanctuary.”

“Em? Seducing someone?” Gallant said with a scoff, “unless the person has a thing for random, unimportant facts—”

“It’s not funny!” Coco hissed. She leaned forward even more for the sake of secrecy. “They seemed to be talking about something really serious! What if she takes my— our spot in the sanctuary?”

“Look,” Gallant sighed, leaning forward. He had just had sex with the man… there was no way he’d make a move on a girl. Not with that kink. “This is between you and me, but I got a good read off Langdon and he definitely likes guys.”

“How can you be sure? What if he’s bi?”

The hairdresser gave his friend a look, “Has my gaydar ever led you astray?”

“I’ve had a boyfriend as long as we’ve known each other,” Coco reminded.

“And who got a hit off that guy who tried to flirt with him at that Hollywood party?”

Gallant rose his brow for emphasis as Coco gaped like a fish, unable to find a response. Finally, she rolled her eyes.

“Whatever,” she relented, “I’m not going to argue with you, but how do you explain what I saw?”

“He’s using her, obviously,” Gallant said, “he knows she’s a flustered virgin and is making her sweat to get what he wants.”

“You better be right,” Coco says, “or its both our heads on the block.”

“Trust me,” Gallant assured, reaching over the couch to grab another champagne glass of water and handing it to the woman, “would I ever lead you wrong?”

Coco tried to keep a serious face but ultimately failed. With a sigh, her shoulders sagged and she gave a halfhearted smile to her friend. Gallant grinned and clinked their glasses together.

“We’re getting into that sanctuary,” Gallant says, “your dad bought the tickets. He kills off paying residents and the Cooperation or whatever it’s called they’re going to have a riot.”

“Yeah, but my dad is dead.”

“But you’re not.”

The pair were unaware of the shadow lingering above them. Langdon felt nothing but disgust when he looked upon the pair. Blue eyes filled with venom and his upper lip twitched as he pulled himself away from the scene.

“What do you mean?” Coco’s voice echoed down the hall, clashing with the sound of his steady footsteps. They weren’t nearly as quiet as they thought they were.

The hairdresser had fallen for his ploy. Shadows were so easy to manipulate, visions so easy to produce. Outpost three would fall into chaos without him lifting a finger.

A few Greys paused as he passed, heads bowed to hide their faces. His interviews with them had proved less than fruitful. They were all the same. Either they wilted under the weight of the new world or filled with anger by their oppression. An anger which aimed at either Venable or the Purples or both. It meant little to him, what they thought. They were but his pawns, protecting their king, protecting their—

The blond paused as he spotted a figure down the hall. Their back to him and facing the elevator. Quirking his head to the side, he approached them. A smile forming on his lips as he recognized the familiar brown hair.

“A sheep should not wander far from the flock,” He teased, stopping in his tracks and waiting for her to turn. When she didn’t his brows furrowed and he took a few slow steps towards her.

When he came to her back, he realized her hand hovered over the control panel, the lights blinking in an odd pattern. Still, she showed no sign of knowing he was even there.

Growing concerned, he placed a gentle hand on her arm and turned her slowly to face him. Her eyes were blank as she faced him, her usual light gone. He placed a hand on either arm as she swayed a bit.

“Emily,” he spoke, crouching a bit to look in her eyes, “Emily.”

She blinked slowly as if she was waking from a dream, eyes seeming heavy with sleep. He didn’t rush her, searching her eyes for any sign of something wrong. When awareness finally returned to her, she jumped back out of his grip and look around wildly. Langdon’s hand hovered close to her, seeing her waver on her feet.

“Are you alright?”

Her brows knitted with confusion. She turned here and there as she tried to put pieces of the puzzle together. She was scared, anxious, but doing her best to mask it. “I… think so.”

“You file never mentioned you were prone to sleepwalking,” he noted.

“Because I’m not,” Em said, nose scrunching as she tried to see. She didn’t have her glasses, the world around her cast in a semi-blurry fog. Looking down she realized she was still in her nightdress. At least she hadn’t been sleeping naked…

“Sorry to… concern you,” She apologized. Her attention was more on figuring out how she got there than on her words. “... I should go back to bed.”

Ignoring his presence, the brunette turned and started to walk back down the hall. Her body had other ideas, however.

The world spinning around her, making her head light and her legs jelly. Gritting her teeth, she felt herself fall into the wall, hands flying out to keep herself vertical.

Langdon was quick to catch her, one hand on her hip and the other holding up her arm. His lips pursed, the rest of his face twisting with concern. Em didn’t see it, too busy scrunching her eyes shut and trying to center herself with no avail. The floor didn’t feel real below her feel.

“Perhaps I should escort you back to your room,” Langdon noted, earning a shake of the head from the woman he held up.

“No sign of interaction, remember?” She reminded, “It’s fine. I’ll—”

The blond’s voice was firm and left no room for argument, “I insist.”

Em sighed. She didn’t have the energy and, more importantly, the strength to fight him. “Alright.”

They started walking almost agonizingly slow. Langdon would have offered to carry her, but he was sure the woman would only tell him off and crawl to her room instead. Holding up one of her arms and his own curling around her back for support, they took it one step at a time.

“Something can be said about the extent of your independence,” He noted. She tried to walk out of his grasp, subtly shaking him off. Her reply was short and terse.

“My mother raised me to solve my own problems.”

He did nothing to hide his annoyance, “part of solving problems is knowing when do ask for help, wouldn’t you say?”

“Vultures will follow weak animals for miles until they drop,” She replied, “some people are no different.”

“So, you aren’t entirely without trust.”

She glanced at him, “I just have high standards.”

“Am I up to standard?”

“Meh,” she teased, “you’re getting there.”

Langdon chuckled, “you wound me.”

Another wave of dizziness hit her like a brick wall. Stopping in her tracks, she closed her eyes again and breathed through it. This was certainly a new symptom to add to the ever-growing list.

“This will count against my evaluation, won’t it?” she asked once she got moving again.

“I thought you didn’t care what the outcome was.”

“I prepared myself for the worst,” She noted. The sight of stairs made her grimace and she prepared herself for the challenge. “retain any dignity I have left. Just because I’m prepared for death doesn’t mean the thought of it doesn’t terrify me.”

“Where do you think you’ll go?” he asked after a moment of silence. It was as if their conversation from earlier had never stopped.

The question caught her off guard, “pardon?”

“Most people have a concept of heaven or hell.” He noted.

She chuckled, “I’d take either.”

“You’d subject yourself to eternal damnation?”

“Afraid of the nothingness, remember? I’d rather be tortured for eternity.”

They finally made it up the last step, taking a moment to pause as Langdon adjusted his grip.

“What about you?” she asked.

“What about me?”

“Heaven or hell,” she pushed, “I already gave my answers so technically you can’t sway me.”

“So, it is…” he said, sounding almost proud, “technically.”

“So?” she said, stopping and showing no hints at moving until he gave her what she wanted.

“Hell."

“Is that due to belief or desire?”

“A bit of both,” he admitted, smiling at a joke only he knew, “who knows— perhaps I’ll take over Hades.”

Em laughed. He quite liked the sound of it. “And become Satan himself?”

“Something like that.”

They started moving again, finding his response satisfactory.

“And what would you do?” she asked, “once you became ruler of hell?”

She turned her head to him at his silence, catching a brief glance at his smug face.

“Classified,” he noted.

“Ah yes,” she sighed, “I suppose it does wander into the category of leading the witness, but I thought we made a promise.”

“Does this look like my office?”

Em shook her head and kept pressing forward. God, they were going at the pace of a snail. Usually, she’d be frustrated beyond belief. Langdon made the journey somewhat tolerable.

“You know my nickname in high-school used to be Satan,” She found herself saying to break the silence that took over them.

Langdon laughed and rolled his eyes, “of course it was.”

Em narrowed his eyes at him, judging his reaction, “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should,” he assured, “how did this name come about?”

The brunette was eager to tell the tale… perhaps a bit too eager.

“I was in middle school,” she began, “at a sleepover. The girls were still up a giggling, but I had gone to bed. They said I rose up around three in the morning, ordered them to go to sleep in the voice of the devil himself, and laid back down.”

Her companion chuckled, “That’s all?”

“The fact that I remembered none of it certainly added to the effect.”

Finally, they reached his door. Langdon almost looked disappointed at the fact.

“Thank you for helping me,” Em said, humor replaced with sincerity.

“Consider it a favor for a favor.”

“What kind of favor?”

A smug smirk crawled on his lips, “I haven't decided.”

Em rolled her eyes, “of course.”

“Do try to keep out of trouble,” Langdon pressed, tone serious but light, “If you go and get yourself killed, I’ll be stuck with the paperwork.”

She mirrored his smirk, pulling herself out of his arms to lean on the doorframe. Pride forbidding her to stay in his arms any longer than necessary. “I’ll keep that in mind next time I’m feeling spiteful.”

His eyes flickered between her eyes and lip before he took a step back. Nodding a goodbye, he turned on his heel and made his way down the hall. Em turned to open her door, only to find it stuck. She checked the knob and realized it was still locked. When she pushed on it heard the familiar sound of a chair spoke hitting the wood.

Outpost Three was getting stranger and stranger and Em was swept along for the ride. With a sigh, she looked down the hall to find Langdon had vanished.

Allowing herself to fall against the door, she weighed her options. Flopping around the outpost hardly seemed a good idea. Her best bet was waiting for her fellow Purples to wake and get her some help or a Grey to wander by and get the master-key. Until then, she planned out a lie. Blackouts would make her stick out more and the last thing she wanted was to give Coco a reason to call her crazy.

[aka-willow]

Flight

gif

Words: 1817

Characters: Willow Wren, Peter Parker, Ned Leeds, Natasha Romanoff, Steve Rogers

Prompt/Tag:

“call me now. it’s urgent.”

“What did I do wrong?”

Summary: Willow receives visitors at school

Timeline: February 2016

Song: Flight - Hans Zimmer

A/N: passed 300 views on Ao3! what?! like i know that’s not a lot but it’s a lot for me lol

—————————————————————————–

I wanted to skip school the next day—I hadn’t slept all night and I still had to get up early to shower in the locker room before school. I probably would have skipped if I didn’t have in-school suspension, which had to be the stupidest thing I’d ever heard of. Like… I’m already here, aren’t I? At that point, just let me go to class.

So, I dragged my ass to school, cleaned up in the locker room. I didn’t even bring a backpack to school that day, just my phone, and a charger. And a sharpie as a writing utensil. Off to a great start, per usual.

I ran into Peter and Ned in the hallway and they were surprised to see me there that early. “Hey, what’s up?” Peter asked. “Did you get number two on the algebra homework last night because Ned and I got two different answers. I texted you but…”

“Yeah… uh… no, sorry,” I said. “I forgot to text back.”

“Wanna go over it at lunch?” Ned asked.

I sighed. “Look, guys. Um… I got in-school suspension. Three days. I won’t be in class today.”

“What? What did you do?” Peter asked, his forehead crinkling with concern. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I got into a fight with Annabel,” I said. “After school.” I glanced down at my phone lockscreen. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“Jeez, okay,” said Ned. “Wanna hang after school then?”

I can’t. I can’t do this anymore. “Sure,” I said. “Text me.”

We parted ways and I walked to the guidance office, where I’d be spending the rest of the day. It was a beautiful, sunny winter day, which made the whole thing seem even more depressing. I’m going to have so much work to make up. And we were doing review for the biology unit test in class today. Shit. I’ll have to get the notes from Ethan. In guidance, I was faced with another awesome Captain America VCR tape. “So, you got in-school suspension. You messed up…”

Jesus Christ.

“They’ll be sending your work down to you shortly,” said one of the guidance counselors.

“Great,” I said, completely deadpan. “Um… could I borrow a pencil?”

She frowned and handed me one from the colorful mug on her desk, a chipped D.A.R.E. to Resist Drugs and Violence pencil, and I took my time getting up and sharpening in the electric sharpener by the door. I can’t sit here all day. Physically. I’m gonna fall asleep, and then I’ll get another day tacked on.

I miss… I miss how things used to be.

Eventually, a manila folder of work was dropped off at the guidance office and I cracked it open, trying to decide if it was even worth doing any of it at this point. Even though my first term grades were good, I was barely scraping by now, and I didn’t have much hope for the third term, either.

Around nine, I had filled the margins of my Spanish homework with doodles and I was coloring in the spaces with a sharpie when the phone rang. I heard my name through the receiver. “Willow?” the guidance secretary asked. “They want you to report down to the main office.”

You’ve GOT to be kidding me. At least this is more interesting. “’kay,” I said, closing the folder, standing up quickly, almost excited for anything to break to monotony. But something felt wrong, and I couldn’t place what. As I walked down to the main office, my steps echoing in the empty hallway, my stomach began to clench. What is it now? How could things possibly get worse?

I became hyperaware of every noise, the sound of the heating escaping the vents, conversation in a nearby classroom, my own heartbeat. Calm down. You need to just calm down.

I paused outside the main office door and then opened it, as I forced the rest of my paranoia back. “Hi?” The office was silent except for the receptionist writing on a Post-It, and what looked like a dad in one of the waiting chairs, typing on his phone.

“Willow?” the receptionist asked, looking up.

“Yeah.”

She nodded her head down the hallway. “Conference room.”

“Do you know what this is about?” I asked.

She shrugged. “Why the hell would I know?”

Fair enough.

My feet heavy, I trudged down the carpeted hallway to the conference room, the same one I had met with Officer Dunphee in only a day ago. Is that what this is about? Does she have something to share with me? Or am I in more trouble?

I paused again in the hallway, trying to hear who was in the room, if anyone. Something is wrong. I know it.

“You saw it, too. We can’t risk it anymore.”

“I know. It’s just… is this the right way?”

I recognized the second voice, a male, and tried to run it through the catalog of all the other men I knew in my life. Marty’s dad? Principal Morita? The list was small. I opened the conference room door and decided to get the first word in. “What did I do wrong?”

Time seemed to grind to a complete halt. There were only two people in the conference room. A woman. Red hair. Wearing all black. And the man. It took me a few precious microseconds to deconstruct it, but I knew the face because I had stared at it so many times before.

Captain Fucking America.

“Willow?” the woman asked. “Do you want to sit?”

At that moment, I had a decision to make and as each fraction of second ticked by, as my heartbeat was reduced to a slow drone in my ear, I made it. Whatever this is, you need to run. It was a split-second reaction as I pivoted and sprinted back down the carpeted hallway, flying out of the main office as I heard the chairs scrape the conference room floor and the woman say something to the man. The “dad” sitting in the main office lunged for me as I ran for the door and I opened my palms and struggled to control my power, pushing him back just long enough for me to get out.

Comms chattered outside, I heard vehicles idling. The adrenaline seemed to dial my senses to a ten and I heard it all. It’s happening. They came for me.

I sprinted down the hallway, my mind racing, trying to get out of sight as footsteps pounded behind me. I can’t take them on. I need to get as far away as possible, right now. This is a fight I know I can’t win. “Hold on!” the woman yelled, but I heard heavy footsteps gaining on me and I turned, my hands pushing outward just as a projectile redirected from my chest and wind shot past it, back down the hall. They were going to shoot me.

With dawning horror, as a tide of wind pushed through the hallway, I ran for the auditorium, pushing open the stage doors and running for the camera perch, just somewhere to hide and regroup. I opened my wings, but I didn’t have enough room to gain momentum and get up there, and after a few failed hops, I was still on the ground and running out of time.

The ladder. I climbed the ladder up to the rafters just as the doors opened and a flashlight surveilled the space. I laid down as flat as I could against the rafters above the cameraman’s perch, praying I wouldn’t be seen, that they didn’t have heat goggles or something like that. I was still trying to process everything, what this meant, why?

You know why.

The flashlight clicked off and the door shut. I heard talk of calling in SHIELD to secure the room. Of course. That’s who’s outside.

With shaking hands, I pulled out my cellphone and pulled up Peter’s number. Pick up, please just pick up. It went to voicemail and I waited three agonizing seconds for the beep. “Peter. It’s me. Call me now. It’s urgent.” I then paused and reconsidered. “The really bad thing I said might happen has happened.” Is this really it? “Um… I have to go now, and I don’t think I’ll be able to be in touch for a while. Can you tell Ned? Please? Um… and Jessica Jones. Alias Investigations, her number is online. Bye. Thanks for being my friend.”

I hung up and powered my phone down, slipping it back into my pocket just as the auditorium doors opened again. SHIELD agents this time. Lots of them.

I still have a mission. I need to find Doctor Turner and get rid of that book. Dulce, New Mexico.

I can’t get caught now. Not yet.

I shimmied along the rafters, as quietly as possible, each creak and groan sounding like gunshots in my head. The comms chattering down below were beyond distracting as someone relayed instructions. I continued to move, an inch at a time until I reached the ladder to the roof access. Easy now.

I stood, praying I was out of sight and gave the trapdoor a push. It didn’t budge. I tried again. Nothing. Finally, I put all my weight into it and on the third try it screeched open and immediately the agents below went silent. Light filtered in and I was suddenly illuminated in the dark auditorium, cold air filling the rafters.

Before I could think of all the possible consequences, everything that would happen once I made this decision, as the chatter picked up and another projectile nearly struck me, I jumped up onto the roof and began running, as fast as I could, opening my wings, not caring who saw now. The edge of the roof approached fast and I jumped off, letting myself fall towards the ground until I angled myself and swooped upward, rapidly gaining altitude. I looked down and saw a plethora of black SUVs outside MSST, and the same people from the conference room standing outside, staring straight up. I was too high to be caught now.

Something was approaching from where the sun was—I heard it cutting through the sky and saw its shadow—and without a pause, I narrowed my span, shooting through the sky, as fast as possible, aiming for the clouds that I hoped to lose them in. If they have someone in the air, they know what I can do.

I breached the clouds and passed through the white vapor, ducking and weaving as fast as I could, knowing now that I could never go home. The wind bit at my skin as I charted a new course, my limbs numb with adrenaline, my vision blurred. Gooblin’s in upstate New York. The fire tower. I need to get there.

They found me. I can’t go home.