#Mia Harris

[author-a-holmes]

Random Headcanon Generator Tag Game

Thank you @rumeysawrites for the tag (HERE)

Tagging forward, with no pressure, to; @duckingwriting, @oh-no-another-idea, @faelanvance, @elliottsbigstrongboyarms,

@mr-writes, @pluttskutt, @thatfunkylilfey, and anyone else that wants to play, consider this an open tag <3

How To Play: Use this headcanon generator to make headcanons for your OCs! Then talk about how accurate they are.

Lizzy Hail

"Lizzy drank an almost toxic amount of coffee once"

While this isn't actually true, I could believe it to be true. She is not a morning person. She relies on coffee to move from conscious to awake. I could believe it.

Booker Reed

"Booker is a horrible liar."

Untrue! Booker is actually a really GOOD liar. The fact that he doesn't like to, is probably his saving grace, but Booker could excell the two-talking, double-speak, that is natural within the Fey Court.

Cara Evelyn

"Cara will remind others in the midst of chaos how good they're being."

I can see it. Cara's quite a naturally sweet person. If she thought someone needed to hear it, to get them up and fighting again in the midst of said chaos, the words would come easily to her.

Andric Roche

"Andric can drive."

This one is so simple it feels like a cheat. Yes, Andric can drive. It's seen in the first book, and it's important to the plot in book two as Andric's car is the only way Lizzy and Booker can get to all the places they need to be.

Nameer Khatri

"Nameer has chronic nightmares."

Not something I'd thought about but, again, I can see it. Nameer is a kavian hunter. He's very good at his job. But that does mean he's witnessed, and done, some truly horrendous things. But Nameer's also a genuinely good soul, so I think they could definitely weigh heavy on his mind. Might also explain why he's so often laughing and joking, and taking those small pleasures where he can.

Mia Harris

"Mia does not know what sleep is"

This is an interesting one. It's true. Sort of. Mia does work herself to the bone, but it's not entirely willingly. She has a lot of demands and expectations placed on her from her home life. So she pushes, and she should sleep more than she does. And while her attitude isn't naturally the friendliest, all those sharp edges are only eenhanced by the pressure she's under, and the drastic lack of sleep she operates on.

Connorbar Moore

"If Connorbar was presented with an intergalactic portal, they would enter it without question."

If 'Intergalactic' was 'portal to Arbaon', then the answer is yes. 1000%. Without question or hesitation. Unfortunately for you all reading this, the reasons why are spoiler territory.

Olwen Pryce

"Olwen has fallen asleep at their desk while working in the middle of the night."

Another easy one to end on. Yes. Olwen is Connorbar's right hand, and she takes it very seriously. She's absolutely fallen asleep trying to keep on top of work, and Connor has absolutely ordered her to bed when he's found her.

[dogzcats]

inside the actors' studio with Colin Firth

[sevrinve]

anticipation

[jesuis-assez]

↠ Tim & Lucy ↳ 4x18 - Backstabbers

[harryforvogue]

inspired by this request (thank you @ftdtkatie and welcome back queen). harry and mia post wedding reception. smut but it's not really detailed innit. 2.7k words. more harry and mia here

***

When Harry finally untangles himself from her, Mia steps into the hotel room, twirling the key around her finger. “Wow,” she murmurs, reaching for the light switch. “This is … wow.”

Harry’s back to nuzzling against her neck, arms around her again. “Only the best for you.”

Mia suppresses her shudder, tossing the keys onto the entrance table. She lets Harry turn her around and press her against the door, his mouth on hers before she can squint up at him.

“Wife,” he says again, softly, against her mouth. “My wife.”

Her fingers grip his shirt. The blazer is long gone, sleeves rolled up to his elbows to show his strong arms, tattoos, and watch. The soft overhead light above accentuates the shine of the ring on her finger. She wiggles her fingers and Harry laughs softly, covering her left hand with his own. 

“Are you happy, Mia?” he whispers, using his other hand to pull her chin up. “Was everything perfect today?”

Mia leans her head back on the door and stares up at him. The glow of the candles to the right of him illuminates half of his handsome face. He’s smiling down at her, dimples on either side of his cheek, breathing softly. His lips are slightly swollen from all the kisses they’ve exchanged today. 

“I have never been happier,” Mia says so quietly that it’s nearly inaudible. “And you?”

Harry ducks his head down and kisses her fully, holding her head against the door. “You’ve no idea, Mia,” he whispers. “I don’t think you’ll ever know.”

She breaks her hand out of his and loops her arms around his shoulder. Harry’s eyes shine when he pulls back from the kiss, cheeks a gentle pink. He leans down and picks her up from under her knees, cradling her against his torso. Mia laughs and holds onto him tighter. Harry walks them further into the room, giving her a tour of the place with careless motions. “That’s the dining. The bathrooms. The bar. The fridge.”

Then he stops at the bed, carefully toeing off his shoes and climbing into it on his knees. He swings her carefully and then lays her in the middle of the bed.

Mia stretches cat-like, back sinking into the mattress. “Oh, that’s so nice.”

Harry smiles, sitting down, leaning on his outstretched palm. His eyes twinkle with amusement, watching her stretch her arms out above her head. “Isn’t it? My back’s been hurting something fierce too.”

She shakes her ankles out, catching Harry’s attention. “Try walking around in these.”

“You’re right.” He catches one of her ankles and starts to undo the buckle. “Torture devices.”

“Now you’re understanding.”

Harry drops the shoe and works on the other one. He massages her heel gently, forcing a groan of relief out of Mia who stares up at the ceiling. When Harry’s hand starts trailing upwards and under her dress, she grins and raises her head, pushing up onto her ankles. “What are you doing?”

Harry bends down to kiss her calves and knees, warm hands holding her as if she’ll break. “Sit up, baby. Let’s get your hair down.”

Mia does so, with help from Harry tugging on her hands, and then he sits behind her with his own tie undone and shirt halfway unbuttoned. For the reception, she kept her hair braided and up, so it’s unsurprising that by the time Harry’s done unleashing her hair, there are at least 25 pins sitting in her lap. His nimble fingers run through her hair to get rid of any hairspray, the soft hidden strands from within her bun falling in loose waves around her face. Harry holds her chin as he kisses her again. “So pretty,” he murmurs, lips sliding down to her neck. “Wanna get out of the dress?”

“Mhmm.”

He undoes the zipper and pats her thigh to get her to stand. The dress falls to her feet. Harry leans back on his palms again, biting the inside of his cheek to hide his smile. “You are so pretty, Mia.”

It’s stupid how Mia suddenly feels nervous. She’s not supposed to feel this way – she’s had sex with Harry likely a thousand times now. But there’s something about the way she stands before him in the – very meticulously picked out, thank you very much – bra and underwear set, his eyes drinking her in, though his smile really only widens when he sees the emotion in her eyes.

With his hand outstretched, he beckons her forward. As if a puppet on a string, she shuffles back to him, sitting in his lap.

He kisses her again and again, sighing and licking into her mouth with a surprising amount of gentleness that makes Mia’s throat close. 

“Are you tired? Sleepy? Hungry?”

Mia kisses him back, gripping the back of his neck. “I’ve got other things on my mind.”

He hums, drawing back to look at her face. “I’ll order food now so it’s ready by the time we’re done.”

Her fingers walk down his collarbones, lips pursed. “Done with what?” she says innocently, because even though she’s nervous, that won’t stop her from being annoying. “What do you think we’re about to do, mister?””

Harry kisses her once more. “You know damn well what we’re going to do.” Then he leans over and grabs the phone, balancing her into his lap as he does. “What do you think you’ll be in the mood for?”

Mia rests her head on his shoulder, pressing her hips against his. He takes a shuddering breath that makes her smile. “A burger.”

“Fries?”

“Nah.”

“Anything else? Dessert?”

“No cake, please. I’ve had too much today.”

“Alright, baby.”

She listens to him dial and wait for the desk to answer. His voice rumbles under her ear. He finishes his list of late night dining food with “...and if you could, a bowl of strawberries for dessert. Thanks.”

Mia lifts her head to grin at him when he puts the phone down. “So romantic.”

“Should have made them chocolate covered,” Harry says with a frown. 

She kisses him, throwing all her might into it, which effectively catches Harry off guard. Instead of catching her, he falls onto his back, his hair in his face as she swings a leg over his waist and straddles him. The undone tie comes off first, flying behind her, and Harry’s laughing as she works on the rest of his buttons. 

“What do we have – T-minus twenty minutes?”

“Thirty, likely.”

“Enough time, I’d say.”

Harry reaches up and squishes her cheeks together. “Oh yeah?” he mimics. “What do you think we’re about to do, huh?”

Mia tries to bat his hands away but he only squishes harder. She crosses her arms over her barely dressed torso and says, “You’re being horny. I’m being practical. Don’t you know that a lack of consummation is grounds for annulment?”

Harry throws his head back and snorts. “There’s absolutely no way you just said consummation.”

“It’s a real thing.”

“I’m pretty sure we’ve consummated our relationship to keep us afloat for a good decade.”

“Oh, so you’re saying you want an annulment?”

Harry bites on his inner cheek. “It’s a bit early for divorce jokes, no?”

“Annulment, not divorce.”

“Whatever.” He raises his head and smiles up at her. “Mia.”

“Yeah?”

“Why are you shaking?” His hands come up around her, yanking her down with him so she lays flat on his chest. He rubs her arms, but the shivering doesn’t stop. “Baby.”

“Is it stupid that I’m actually, you know, nervous-excited?”

“Excited, I understand. Being nervous, though, is interesting.”

“You’re not nervous?”

“To..to have sex?” Harry asks, slightly bewildered. “Not really.”

Mia rolls her eyes. “I don’t think it’s the sex that's making me nervous. I don’t know what it is. Just all the excitement and all of today, maybe. I think I’m having a sugar crash. Yeah, that’s what this feels like. But I also don’t want the day to end because I’m having so much fun. It’s surreal, but I’m also in the moment. It’s weird. I don’t know.”

She knows she’s rambling a bit, but it’s hard to stop once she’s started and Harry’s looking at her with just a fond smile, she’s not sure if he’s actually listening or just admiring her face.

“I know it’s a lot to process,” Harry says once he’s done staring at her. “Honestly, my love, if you just wanna crash for the night, we can do that. Like I said, we’ve consummated enough times–”

“I’m really starting to dislike the way you say that word–”

“--so we can just get our clothes off and go to sleep.”

Mia frowns deeply. “No way I’m sleeping without banging you within an inch of your life, Harry.”

“Romantic.” He sits up and brings her along. “Mia.” He waits for her to look at him. “You’re in charge tonight. Whatever you want goes.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

A look of determination slots onto her face. “Alright.”

The kiss is gentle, but there’s an underlying urgency in it. The way she presses her hips to his again suggests she’s done with the chatter, and when his large hands grab her waist and pull on her, she softly sighs into his mouth.

Harry – to be plain – has been hard since the moment Mia looked at him at the reception half an hour ago and said it’s time to leave. He’d been waiting for her signal, and now they’re here, Mia sprawled on top of him, thighs around his waist, and her mouth hot on his. Her hands push off his shirt, tossing it aside just as Harry’s fingers twist off the clasp of her bra.

She shivers as the straps fall from her shoulders, and Harry leans in to pepper kisses to her chest. She holds him close, cradling his head, and throwing her own head back with a satisfied hum. His lips find the column of her throat next, the back of her ear, her temple, her nose. He twists them over so that he lays on top of her, and she gives in to his heady kisses.

His hands slide down her sides, fingers catching onto the band of her underwear, and he pulls away to look at her. It’s always been what he does, Mia thinks, as his eyes search for visible agreement. She nods at him, raising her hips to help him. His dimples return and the last of her garment is tossed away.

“Not fair,” Mia murmurs, dragging her nails down his abs. He tightens the muscles to prevent being tickless. “Take yours off too.”

Harry works on his belt while Mia watches with heavy eyes. Once his trousers are gone, he fits himself between her legs and sighs at the contact of their skin.

She loves the weight of him on top of her, just shy of crushing her lungs. His soft skin against hers, simply absorbing heat. 

“Nothing else,” Mia says, getting comfortable under him. “We can do the other stuff later. Just want you inside of me right now.”

Harry smiles. “You know me too well.”

“I can tell by that evil look that you’re about to use your mouth, but I mean it,” Mia giggles, and he kisses her neck as his hands slowly part her legs. His fingers slide through, gently pressing one finger at her entrance. He pushes in and listens to her whimper before adding another. And when she whimpers again, he kisses her so he can swallow the noises and savor them. 

“Harry, ah please just – yeah. Just… yes. Yes.”

He lines himself up and carefully begins to enter her. It’s always this way, no matter if they’ve previously decided to be rough. He watches her face contort with pleasure, her mangled whine blending in with his deep groan. The feel of her walls invites him, warm and comforting.

“I love you,” Harry murmurs against her mouth, arms braced beside her head. Her eyes flicker up at him, a beginning of a flush blossoming on her face. “You are everything. Do you understand? Everything.”

His thrusts are shallow at first, but once he hears her throaty moan, he pulls her closer to him and presses deeper. She makes the prettiest sounds as he quickens his pace, eyes never leaving hers. 

“Wife,” he marvels, causing Mia to whine and throw her arms around him. Her sharp nails dig into his shoulders. “I love you. I love you.”

All of Mia’s nervousness, or whatever you would call it, melts away. Instead, she looks up at her husband in awe. Only the two of them know how far they’ve come. Nobody else but Mia sees the way Harry’s eyes take her in, how his heart beats to the syllables of her name, how his hands cup her face as if she’s the most precious thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

And in his most vulnerable moment too. Nobody sees Harry the way he is now, spread out and bare in front of her, broken down to the point where she can see every molecule of him. His fears, his fierce way of loving, his stubbornness, his protectiveness. 

It’s all hers. 

She holds him closer, emotion in her throat causing her to moan lowly, nails still pressing into his skin.

It doesn’t take long for either of them to announce their impending orgasm, but Harry goes first, and then, with the help of his thumb against her clit, she follows, hot pleasure running down her spine like electricity. He’s holding her in his arms when she’s coming down from that high, mumbles soft words against her hair.

“I love you,” Mia whispers, and that doesn’t even begin to cover it.

Harry’s lips twist into a smile and he runs his palms over her eyes. “I love you.”

“I’m crying?”

“A little, my love.”

His own eyes are looking misty again.

“Sorry. Don’t know why I’d be crying right now.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t apologize.” He starts sliding down her body, and she only realizes what he’s doing when his head is between her legs and his tongue is darting out to give her a gentle lick.

Mia hisses, yanking on his hair. “Give me a bloody minute, would you?”

He rests his head on her thigh and waits exactly one minute before he returns to his spot and licks into her.

Despite the lack of rest, Mia’s riding out another orgasm on his tongue within minutes, the tears in her eyes now from oversensitivity. She’s pushing him away frantically, trembling when he emerges while wiping the corners of his mouth, grinning. His hair is a mess, curtains around his brows, and his eyes filled with delight.

He’s so fucking handsome.

“You just can’t help yourself,” Mia says, barely able to manage a whisper.

“You taste so good, I really can’t.”

Before he returns to lay next to her, he finds his white shirt and helps her into it. She’s shivering again, still from excitement it seems, and when he finds his place beside her, she immediately snuggles into him. Mia takes exaggerated inhales to breathe in his scent, and Harry simply cards his clean fingers through her hair. 

It’s nearing two in the morning now, but unlike before, Mia’s wide awake. Harry’s eyes are closed, she sees when she glances at him, but he doesn't seem to be asleep. She presses even closer to him, throwing the blanket over his lower half to keep him from getting cold.

When the food arrives, it’s Mia that wraps her robe around herself and takes it in while Harry yawns and struggles to sit up. They go for the strawberries first, both of them sitting in white robes on the edge of the bed, shoulders brushing against one another. He pours her some champagne and blinks at her when she tells him she’s barely had a sip of water today.

And when Harry wipes the strawberry residue from Mia’s mouth and drags her in for a deep kiss, Mia’s heart just about explodes with happiness. Harry smiles into the kiss and holds her tighter. 

She leans into his strong frame, breathing him in again.

Everything is good.

[vaporwavebeach-writes]

Kinktober Day 6 (Dubcon)

Harry Warden x Reader (NSFW)

(773 Words)

Summary: Whatever happens in the mines, stays in the mines

Warnings/Tags: 18+, gender neutral reader, EXTREMELY dubious consent (like seriously), dead dove do not eat, descriptions of violence, guilt, confusing and shameful feelings, reader is a little delirious from the mining fumes, fear play (kinda), penetrative sex, Harry Warden being scary, coming on clothes, pickaxe threats

Notes: this one was a little tough to write, but I’m proud of how it turned out :) I’m starting to near the “oh man, I’m running out of inspo” phase, but fuck it we ball, we’ll push through LMAO enjoy the fic!!!

-

There was no time to catch your breath. You weren’t sure how long you’ve been running and you didn’t know where you could even go. These mines were like a labyrinth. The air became lighter the further down you ran. Exhaustion and gradual decrease of oxygen quality makes for a deadly duo, but you couldn’t think about that now. All your friends were dead- at least, that’s what you’ve begun to accept. Reaching another dead end in front of you, the heavy footsteps of the murderous miner pounded in the distance.

Back against the wall, you sink to your feet, feeling utterly helpless. Around the corner of the darkened mineshaft, Harry Warden- the urban legend of the town, stalks into view.

As he creeps closer, his bloodied pickaxe comes into view. You remember just an hour ago, how it swung into skulls of your peers. The screams ring out in your brain. The image of the light leaving their eyes as blood and organs pool around you is forever etched in your memory.

You feel yourself being lifted off your feet, the collar of your shirt crumpled between his gloved hands. You can’t see anything at all behind the vacant, blacked out eyes of his dust mask. The wind is knocked out of you as he slams you against the jagged walls of the tunnel. You’re forced to deeply inhale the noxious fumes of the mine, making your brain go hazy as the miner’s hands grip onto your waist, traveling under your shirt.

You let out a soft gasp that weren’t entirely sure was out of fear or arousal. You’ve been running in these mines for so long, you didn’t know what to feel anymore. On one hand, you felt scared, alone, traumatized- definitely in need of some therapy after a situation as dire as this, wanting nothing more than to push him off you and run out of the tunnels. On the other hand, you were feeling utterly amorous as you allowed yourself to get felt up and groped by a pickaxe-wielding maniac, morbidly curious to see how far you were willing to go.

Your brain was running itself completely ragged. You didn’t know what you wanted anymore. Maybe the poor air quality and fumes were messing with your head- scrambling the terror and confusion and adrenaline and lust that were fighting over how your body should be reacting.

You could hear heavy grunts and muffled breathing through his mask. He was impossibly close to you, the heat of each other making the already compact mining tunnels feel like a pressure cooker. The unintentional (or was it?) friction from one another distracted you from your thoughts. It didn’t feel right to enjoy this, especially after witnessing something so violent and grotesque, but that didn’t matter once Harry Warden unzipped his pants, freeing his aching cock.

As you felt your pants being forced down, you attempt to push off the walls, but are met with his pickaxe- dripping with that fresh crimson, to the side of your neck.

You stare at him, terrified, yet exceedingly desperate. “I don’t want to die.” You whisper.

Harry reels back, swinging the pickaxe. You violently flinch, shrieking in terror as the pickaxe is wedged into the wall beside you. Before giving you any time to settle from the fear, Harry Warden pushes himself inside you, dripping and eager.

You wail in ecstasy as his cock pumps into you so quickly. You grab onto his shoulders to steady yourself. The strangled groans from inside his mask burrow their way into your mind, mingling with the screams and pleading from your friends being violently murdered. It scared you to know how aroused you were. Your friends were dead and here you were, getting fucked stupid by the man who killed them. And you liked it.

Your orgasm crashes into you, powerfully and unexpectedly. You shudder around the miner, who sloppily continues to thrust into you, not far behind in his own release. You could now add cum to the blood and dust that stained your clothes as he shoots his load onto you.

Your tainted clothes were the least of your problems now compared to your tainted mind. The thought of what just happened finally begins to sink it. You weren’t scared or disgusted, but were more so scared and disgusted at the fact that you didn’t feel like that at all. You didn’t know what would happen next, but there was one thing that you would continue to tell yourself for as long as you had left to live: Whatever happens in the mines, stays in the mines.

[firawren]

Colin Firth Barbies

In honor of May the Firth, please enjoy these Colin Firth Barbie posters.

[barissoffee]

thank you bad batch animators

[themilkshanghai]

Thestral’s Calling

" The meeting between Mia and Thestral is no coincidence. A thestral’s eyes stares calmly, walks around, it looks as if wants to get to know her. "

[cufflinksandsnapbacks]

I care for you, Harry Bright

Single gay dad of two dogs. Too kind for this world. Also very spontaneous

[author-a-holmes]

Find the Vibe Tag

Rules: find an excerpt from your WIP that fits a vibe.

My vibe is "I think I will cause problems on purpose"

Thank you for the tag @talesofsorrowandofruin <3

As soon as I saw this 'vibe' I knw exactly the scene I needed to share. I planned to do something from Darkling, but there's just this one moment in Changeling that's absolutly perfect.

"It's Mimi right?" Booker asked, turning around fully in his seat, and Lizzy felt her heart raise to settle in her throat anxiously.

She recognised his tone. The one that said he was irritated, but was refusing to show it. The overly friendly voice Booker liked to use when he wanted someone to let their guard down long enough for him to get revenge.

"Booker..." she warned quietly, but he ignored her.

"It's Mia."

"Ah, of course. My apologies. That privilege was only bestowed on Hunter Roche. I remember now."

"Booker," Lizzy hissed, trying to split her attention between Andric, who was shifting uncomfortably, and Mia, whose eyes were flashing with anger, her lips pressed tight, but Booker still didn't stop.

"So far this morning, Blake Allbrook and Kelsey Garrick have both approached us about sitting with you. May I suggest if you are that desperate for more friends, that you be a little more approachable?" he taunted. "Perhaps be a touch more open to people using your adorable little nickname?"

Tagging forward to; @minamoroz @faelanvance @ashen-crest @ettawritesnstudies @sleepyowlwrites and anyone else who see's this and wants to play (tag me so I see it!)

Your vibes are "I should not have said that".

[shortmexicangirl]

adrien’s miraculous conception has me thinking

[sirlancenotalot]

[firthbetterorfirthworse]

I'm sorry Harry Bright Harry Deane Harry Hart

How many times has Colin Firth played a Harry?

[samix-asb]

hear me out...

actually don't and don't think about the implications please this is nothing but a rendered joke (ᴗ_ ᴗ。) 

[harryforvogue]

“This is so nice,” Harry murmurs, staring up at the ceiling. He’s sure that if he keeps his head back against the couch like this for a few minutes longer, he’ll develop a crick in his neck, but that thought seems far away as his fiancée continues to assault his jaw and jugular with soft, yet pointed kisses. His hand rests on the back of her head, her hair spilling over his fingers, and the press of her thighs against his keeping him awake.

Mia pulls away to frown at him. “I’ve been kissing you for ten minutes and all you have to say is ‘this is nice’?”

He smiles down at her, the hand in her hair traveling to cup her cheek. “You are so nice, I meant.”

“You’re right,” she says, looking pleased. “I am.” And then she ducks her head and continues kissing his collarbones.

He’s half sprawled on the couch with his legs wide, and she’s directly on top of him. The collar of his shirt is open, his tie undone, and he’s pretty sure that somewhere between entering their house and Mia basically pouncing on him, she managed to undo the button and zipper of his pants.

Harry sighs softly, melting into the soft presses of her lips. He imagines how his neck must look right now, riddled with lipstick stains and slight marks from her nipping. He’s not entirely sure what’s gotten into her, but he’s not complaining.

Today, Harry is thirty.

Mia calls it the "hot age", which he’s unfamiliar with, but if it gets this type of treatment, who is he to argue?

His hair was carefully done before they attended dinner, but now, it’s a complete mess. By Mia’s orders, he’s not cut his hair for several months now, and without any product, it falls into his eyes. Her face lights up whenever he comes out of the shower and has to tuck the curls behind his ears to avoid getting his face all wet. Some days, it’s hard to scrape her off of him. He’s even been late a few times to work because of it. If he actually had to answer to someone, it may have been a problem.

“I love you,” Mia suddenly mumbles against his collar. 

Not realizing he’s closed them, Harry opens his eyes and glances down at her. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She’s quiet. And then: “I’m really happy I get to see you at 30.”

He runs a thumb over her cheek. “What do you mean?”

She turns her head into his neck. “I mean – well. Eight years ago, I didn’t think I’d see you at 25, much less 30.”

“Didn’t think I’d be in your life?”

“Yeah.” 

Harry rests his chin on the top of her head. “There have been a few bumps, hm?”

(They don’t really talk about their break up much these days. Mia saw Harry struggle with accepting it and moving on from it for a very long time. Now, they’re both at ease, it seems.)

“Mhm,” Mia says. She bites down on his shoulder gently. “I hope I get to see you at 35. And 40. And 50. And 100.”

He laughs again though his heart is heavy in his chest. “Think you’ll still love me at 40 and 50 and 100? Doubt I'll be too hot then.”

She raises her head then, and Harry is surprised to see her pretty eyelashes sticking together with tears. He immediately stops smiling and puts his palms over her eyes, wiping away the moisture. He leaves a streak of mascara down her face, but that matters little right now.

Mia holds his open collar, bunching up the fabric between her fingers. She leans close, sliding her nose against his. “I wish,” she whispers, “I could put into words what I feel for you. And how it grows every time I wake up next to you. It is so–” she takes a breath, “unbearable sometimes.”

Harry swallows, too stunned for words. Mia kisses him softly, trailing her fingers down his chest, resting her fists against his butterfly tattoo. He kisses her back, pushing off the back of the couch to lean into her as well, pressing their hearts together. At some point through the kisses, his fingers become tangled in her hair. Mia pulls away to take a breath. 

When he releases her, their chests rise and fall hard with their breaths. Mia rests her forehead on Harry’s, a smile twisting onto her lips. “Happy birthday, Harry.”

He surges forward and kisses her again.