#Moving Company London UK

[celeritymoves]

Man with a Van Removals London

For reliable and efficient Man with a Van removal services in London, choose Celerity Moves. Our team is dedicated to ensuring a smooth and stress-free moving experience. For more information, please visit https://celeritymoves.co.uk/

[mariocki]

An uncredited Jacqueline Hill appears as an unnamed Irish barmaid in The Vise: Death Pays No Dividends (1.5, ABC, 1954); in the UK, this episode wasn't seen until 1960 as part of ITV anthology The Crooked Path

[valuedmoves]

London to Paris Moving Companies: Reliable and Affordable Removal Services for Your Hassle-Free Move

Moving from London to Paris is an exciting journey, but it comes with its own set of challenges. Whether you're relocating for work, personal reasons, or starting a new chapter in a different city, hiring the right moving company can make all the difference. Choosing a reliable and affordable London to Paris moving company will ensure your move is smooth, efficient, and stress-free. This guide will help you understand the costs, services, and tips to find the best moving company for your international move.

Why Choose a Professional Moving Company for a London to Paris Move?

Relocating from London to Paris involves more than just packing your bags. It requires careful planning, logistics, and handling of your belongings with care. Hiring a professional moving company offers several benefits:

1. Expertise in International Removals

Moving companies that specialise in European or international removals are experienced in dealing with the complexities of cross-border relocations. From paperwork to customs regulations, they know how to navigate the legalities and logistics of moving your belongings from London to Paris.

2. Efficient and Safe Packing

One of the biggest challenges when moving internationally is ensuring your items are packed safely for the journey. Professional movers have the right packing materials and techniques to ensure everything from fragile items to large furniture arrives in perfect condition.

3. Time-Saving

Packing, transporting, and unpacking your belongings can be time-consuming and exhausting. Professional moving services take the load off your shoulders, allowing you to focus on settling into your new home and adjusting to life in Paris.

4. Stress-Free Customs Handling

Moving internationally involves dealing with customs authorities. A professional moving company is familiar with the customs procedures and can assist with the necessary paperwork, avoiding delays and ensuring that your items are cleared quickly and efficiently.

London to Paris Moving Companies: What to Expect

When considering moving companies, it's important to understand what services they offer. Here's a breakdown of what you can expect when hiring a moving company for your London to Paris relocation.

1. Packing Services

Moving companies typically offer full-service packing, where they handle everything from packing materials to wrapping delicate items. For a London to Paris move, this service is invaluable. You won’t have to worry about finding the right packing boxes, bubble wrap, or other packing materials. The movers will come to your home, pack your belongings, and prepare them for the journey to Paris.

2. Furniture Removals

Moving large furniture items like sofas, wardrobes, and beds can be tricky, especially when moving internationally. Moving companies provide van services that ensure your furniture is safely transported to your new home in Paris. They have the experience and tools to handle bulky items and get them delivered without damage.

3. Van and Shipping Services

Some moving companies offer both van services for smaller loads and shipping services for larger moves. If you have only a few items, you can opt for a van service, which is cheaper and more convenient. However, for larger moves, sea freight or air freight may be necessary. International movers can provide both options depending on the size and urgency of your move.

4. International Moving Insurance

To ensure your belongings are fully protected during the move, it’s essential to consider insurance. Reputable moving companies offer international moving insurance to cover the cost of any damage or loss during transit. This gives you peace of mind that your items are protected every step of the way.

5. Unpacking and Setup

Once your items arrive in Paris, some moving companies offer unpacking services to help you settle in quickly. They can also assist with arranging furniture, setting up your new home, and disposing of packing materials.

How Much Does a London to Paris Move Cost?

The cost of moving from London to Paris can vary greatly depending on several factors, such as the size of your move, the services you choose, and the moving company you hire. On average, you can expect to pay anywhere from £1,000 to £3,000 for an international move between these two cities.

Factors That Affect the Cost:

Distance: The farther you are moving, the higher the cost. London to Paris is approximately 350 km, so the distance is manageable for most international moving companies.

Size of Your Move: The amount of furniture, boxes, and other items you need to move will significantly affect the cost. A larger move will require more time, packing materials, and a bigger van or shipping container.

Services Included: If you opt for full packing, unpacking, and insurance services, the cost will be higher. Basic van services with minimal packing will be more affordable.

Time of Year: Moving during peak seasons, such as summer, may result in higher prices due to increased demand. Booking your move in the off-season may help you secure a lower price.

Finding the Best London to Paris Moving Company

To ensure a smooth and cost-effective move, it’s essential to choose the best moving company. Here are some tips to help you find a reliable and affordable moving company for your London to Paris relocation:

1. Research Multiple Moving Companies

Don’t settle for the first moving company you come across. Take the time to research and compare different companies. Look for reviews and testimonials from other customers who have made similar international moves. A good reputation is crucial when choosing a company to handle your valuable belongings.

2. Get Multiple Quotes

Request quotes from several moving companies to get an idea of the cost. Make sure to provide detailed information about your move, such as the size of your home, the number of items you need to move, and any additional services you require. This will help the company give you a more accurate estimate.

3. Check for Insurance and Licensing

Ensure that the moving company you choose is licensed and insured. Moving companies that specialise in international moves must comply with strict regulations and have proper insurance to protect your belongings. Don’t hesitate to ask for proof of insurance before finalising your booking.

4. Inquire About Experience with International Moves

Not all moving companies have experience with international moves, so it’s important to choose a company that specialises in European removals or international relocations. Their experience with customs procedures, international shipping, and packing requirements will ensure your move goes smoothly.

5. Plan Ahead

International moves require more preparation than local moves. Plan ahead and book your moving company well in advance. The earlier you start the process, the more options you’ll have, and the less stressful the move will be.

Moving From London to Paris: Tips for a Smooth Relocation

Here are some tips to make your move from London to Paris as smooth and stress-free as possible:

1. Declutter Before You Move

Before packing, take the opportunity to declutter your home. Donate, sell, or dispose of items you no longer need. This will reduce the number of items you need to move and lower your overall costs.

2. Label Your Boxes

Clearly label your boxes with the contents and the room they belong to. This will make unpacking in Paris much easier and help you stay organised.

3. Sort Out Your French Residency Documents

As a UK citizen moving to Paris, you may need to apply for a residency permit or other legal documents. Research the requirements and start the process early to avoid delays.

4. Research Your New Home and Neighbourhood

Get familiar with your new neighbourhood in Paris. Research nearby amenities, transportation options, and cultural differences to make your transition smoother.

5. Prepare for the Weather

The climate in Paris can be different from London’s, so pack accordingly. Check the weather forecast and plan your clothing for the first few days after your move.

Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs)

1. How much does it cost to move from London to Paris? The cost typically ranges between £1,000 and £3,000, depending on the size of your move, services required, and the moving company you choose.

2. What services do London to Paris moving companies offer? Services include packing, furniture removals, van and shipping options, unpacking, and international moving insurance.

3. How long does it take to move from London to Paris? The process usually takes 1-2 days for the move itself, but depending on logistics and customs clearance, the entire process can take a few weeks.

4. Do I need to worry about customs when moving to Paris? Yes, customs regulations must be followed, but professional moving companies can assist with necessary paperwork and ensure smooth clearance.

5. How do I find the best London to Paris moving company? Research multiple companies, compare quotes, check customer reviews, and ensure they specialise in international removals with proper licensing and insurance.

Conclusion

Moving from London to Paris doesn’t have to be a stressful experience. By choosing the right moving company, understanding the costs, and preparing ahead of time, you can enjoy a smooth transition to your new home. Whether you need full-service packing or just a van for your belongings, reliable and affordable moving companies like Valued Moves are available to help you make the journey to Paris with ease.

[agarwalpackeruk]

How to Make a Household Removal in London?

Even in a busy metropolis like London, moving house can be a daunting undertaking that is made much easier with the proper preparation and organization. Do you need to move house in London but are stuck with lots of questions? Don’t worry! You can easily make shifting of your goods in no time.

There are many London removal companies working to make shifting relaxing and stress-free. If you do not know how to pack well and book a truck, just sit back and let the removal companies do it. They are so professional that whether you need to shift a household to a new city, interstate shifting, pet relocation, corporate relocation, or even international removal, they do it all for their clients with proper responsibility.

Tips to Make a Safe and Secure Household Removal

Household relocation is relatively easy now. Yet you need to be aware of some of the prior steps before your removal partners come to your home. Although removal companies are very helpful, you should be prepared at your stage and have taken some of the steps to avoid a panic situation at the time of shifting. The following advice can help you have a stress-free household move in London.

Planning Plays a Vital Role in Relocation

To prevent stress at the last minute, plan and begin arranging and planning your move well in advance. This will make you organized and save time in packing and other steps. Planning for anything always benefits a person.

Clear Your Space  

Take some time to clear your space and discard everything you don’t need. We often ignore things and keep them beside us even if they are not in our use. Moving to a new house is an opportunity to make some space in your luggage and pick out the things that are not in your use. It will be a lot simpler to pack and unpack after this.

Research & Hire a Reputable Removal Company

To identify a dependable and trustworthy removal company, conduct extensive research and go through evaluations. There are some of the points through which you can find trustworthy London Removal Companies.  

Clients Review

Complete details online

Insurance coverage

Detailed information about the services

Proper Customer service

Packing Tips  

It is advisable to pack sincerely to make things easy to find in your new place and avoid unnecessary hassle. Use robust boxes, give them clear labels, and pack methodically. Bundle necessary things individually to ensure easy access.

Take into Account Parking and Traffic

When planning a household relocation in London, you must take into account the city’s difficult parking and traffic situations. Should permissions be required, several removal businesses can assist.

Change the Address on Governments Documents or Parties

You must set up service cancellation or transfer arrangements and notify banks, utility companies, and the postal service of your move so that this does not create any issues later on. This will ensure that you receive all your essential documents at your new place instead of your previous address.   

Following all of these tips will help you to make an organized relocation. There are multiple Agarwal Packers and Movers UK  that you can hire and shift with convenience. They do all for their clients, from packing to transporting and unloading too. Thus, you can think of shifting your household quickly. You just need to make sure nothing is missed, remain organized all through the process, and make a moving day checklist. Your household removal in London can be as stress-free as feasible if you adhere to these suggestions and maintain organization.

[vansandhands]

Tips for a Stress-Free House Move

Creating a Moving Checklist is the most important when planning a relocation. Obtain quotes from movers, declare and organise your home, purchase packaging supplies, measure the dimensions of the new room, plan any renovations, schedule a day off from work to move, start packing the goods you use the least, and carefully pack and mark every last item by room.

Vans and Hands offer the expertise and knowledge to help you move, from an apartment in the city to a home in the suburbs or from the calm countryside to the heart of London.

Read Top 11 Tips for Moving a House Stress-Free for a fun and stress-free move.

On the day of the relocation, make sure everything is clean and damage-free, check for damage and snap photos, and vacuum any region of the house that could be difficult to access after the furniture is set up. Moving into a new home includes using the right size boxes, weighing heavy items, leaving empty spaces, mixing items from different rooms, labelling each box with a description of its contents, taping, and unique crating.

To ensure easy packing, use a couple of pieces of tape and pack pictures in paper or bubble wrap. Packing the kitchen involves a lot of different types of items, such as dishes, cups and bowls, glasses, and shoes. Pack clothes in cardboard boxes, and suitcases, or leave them in the dresser. Storing TVs should be double-boxed or stored in a separate box with packing paper.

[tjalexandernyc]

He's got a cover! May I please introduce A Gentleman's Gentleman, out March 11, 2025 from Vintage Books.

You can help support my m/m trans historical romance right now, though! Please consider preordering from your bookshop of choice, adding it to your to-read list on GoodReads or Storygraph, or requesting your local library procure a copy (that's ISBN 9780593686201 in the US, 9780008716332 in the UK).

Note to UK folks: your version will be titled The Earl Meets His Match and will have a different cover (TBD).

Synopsis:

From the acclaimed author of Chef's Kiss, a groundbreaking trans Regency romance that's both delightfully witty and refreshingly iconoclastic. The notoriously eccentric Lord Christopher Eden is a “man of unusual make” and even more unusual habits: he prefers to live far from the prying eyes and ears of the ton, and would rather have the comfortable company of his childhood cook and his aged butler than the swarm of servants and hangers-on befitting a man of his station. But Christopher’s pleasant, if occasionally lonely life is upended when he receives word from his lawyers that, according to his late father’s will, he must find a wife by the end of the Season if he intends to keep his family’s fortune and the Eden estate. Christopher cannot imagine a worse fate: as he isn’t attracted to women, his chances of making a wife happy are slim. Furthermore, if his quest to marry has any hope of succeeding, he must move to London posthaste and acquire some more suitable staff. Enter James Harding, Christopher’s new, distractingly handsome—if rigidly traditional—valet. After a rocky start, the two strike up a fragile friendship amid the throes of the London Season . . . a friendship that threatens to shatter under the looming shadow of Christopher’s impending nuptials—and the secrets both men are keeping. With its heady combination of dry wit, slow-burn romance, and a nuanced portrait of trans identity, A Gentleman’s Gentleman stands to transform the historical romance genre as we know it.

Cover design by Mark Abrams

Photography by Alun Callender

Modeling by Zack Pinsent of Pinsent Tailoring

[a-kind-of-merry-war]

NOW CLOSED!

Wanna win a queer historical romance book? Wanna win.... TWO queer historical romance books??

@tjalexandernyc and I are hosting a joint giveaway to celebrate our upcoming novels!

Enter for a chance to win a prize pack that includes ALL THE PAINTED STARS by Emma Denny, an advance reading copy of A GENTLEMAN'S GENTLEMAN (UK title: THE EARL MEETS HIS MATCH) by TJ Alexander, plus secret extra swag and treats.

To enter, just fill in this Google Form.

Giveaway will close on the 5th November - the date All the Painted Stars comes out in the US - so you've got one week to enter! Full blurbs as well as Ts&Cs under the cut.

ALL THE PAINTED STARS

When Lily Barden discovers her best friend Johanna’s hand in marriage is being awarded as the main prize at a tournament, she is determined to stop it. Disguised as a knight, she infiltrates the contest, preparing to fight for Jo’s hand. But her conduct ruffles feathers, and when a dangerous incident escalates out of Lily’s control, Jo must help her escape.

Finding safety with a local brewster, Lily and Jo soon settle into their new freedom, and amongst blackberry bushes and lakeside walks an unexpected relationship blossoms. But when Jo’s past catches up with her and Lily’s reckless behaviour threatens their newfound happiness, both women realise that the choices they make will always have a cost.

***

A GENTLEMAN'S GENTLEMAN/THE EARL MEETS HIS MATCH

The notoriously eccentric Lord Christopher Eden is a “man of unusual make” and even more unusual habits: he prefers to live far from the prying eyes and ears of the ton, and would rather have the comfortable company of his childhood cook and his aged butler than the swarm of servants and hangers-on befitting a man of his station.

But Christopher’s pleasant, if occasionally lonely life is upended when he receives word from his lawyers that, according to his late father’s will, he must find a wife by the end of the Season if he intends to keep his family’s fortune and the Eden estate. If his quest to marry has any hope of succeeding, he must move to London posthaste and acquire some more suitable staff. Enter James Harding, Christopher’s new, distractingly handsome—if rigidly traditional—valet.

***

Terms & Conditions

Open internationally. No purchase necessary. One entry per person at the link provided. Sweepstakes not affiliated with or endorsed by Google, Vintage Books, HQ, or any other entity. One winner will be randomly selected at 3 PM EST on November 5, 2024 and alerted via email. Winner will be required to share a valid mailing address in order to receive prizes.

[sleepynegress]

Black actor who faced abuse over role in Romeo & Juliet calls for industry-wide action

Francesca Amewudah-Rivers, who played Juliet alongside Tom Holland’s Romeo, says racist abuse went on for months

The actor Francesca Amewudah-Rivers, who received a barrage of online racial abuse after being cast in a production of Romeo & Juliet this year, has called for industry-wide action to protect black and brown actors.

The abuse aimed at Amewudah-Rivers began after the Jamie Lloyd Company theatre group announced the cast of its production in April, with Amewudah-Rivers to play Juliet and the Spider-Man star Tom Holland playing Romeo.

Amewudah-Rivers has revealed she also received hate mail, and that she did not feel safe while working on the play, her West End stage debut, at the Duke of York’s theatre.

“There were many days where I didn’t know how I was going to get through it,” she told the Stage. “The flurry of abuse was sustained throughout the whole job. I received death threats, hate mail sent to the theatre. I didn’t feel safe at work.”

‘Too much to bear’: Black actors condemn racial abuse of Romeo & Juliet starRead more

The 26-year-old, who was nominated at this year’s Black British theatre awards, said the minimal set and closeup camerawork of the production made her feel “very exposed” on stage. “Off the back of the abuse, having to stare down the camera lens and have my face be blown up in this theatre was really tough mentally,” she said.

Amewudah-Rivers said the harassment also affected her family and friends, as well as the show’s cast, crew and producers at the Jamie Lloyd Company, who condemned the initial abuse in a statement on social media at the time and said further harassment would be reported.

The incident led to an open letter of solidarity with Amewudah-Rivers being signed by more than 800 predominantly black female and non-binary actors – including Lashana Lynch, Sheila Atim, Marianne Jean-Baptiste, Lolly Adefope, Freema Agyeman, Wunmi Mosaku and Tamara Lawrance.

Amewudah-Rivers described her experience as an “incredibly tough” induction into the West End. She said: “I know what it means to move through life in a black body. Racism is something we have to navigate every day, so I was very aware of the potential for something like this to happen.

“I think what I was unprepared for was how long it went on for, and also having to navigate it while doing the job. It was four months of battling against this energy, and it’s something I still have to deal with. I really had to reckon whether it was worth it, this sustained feeling of duress.”

The actor called for “broader conversations industry-wide” about the protection of global-majority actors and said it was “not enough to represent our communities on stage, there also needs to be an infrastructure of support”.

“Safety has to be at the forefront. We can’t do our best work if we don’t feel safe, if we don’t feel held, if we don’t feel understood,” she said. “I think more needs to be done, especially because I know I’m not alone. I know other actors who have had similar experiences, more recently, too.”

According to Amewudah-Rivers, the response to her casting showed how the UK theatre sector was still lagging behind in terms of onstage racial diversity.

“For it to cause such outrage that I was cast in this role means we have a long way to go. Theatre has a legacy of community, it should represent society. Especially in London – there’s a big black British community here and in the UK. It shouldn’t be a surprise. Our histories as black people have been erased. It’s about re-education. I’m not the first black Juliet, and I won’t be the last.”

[alisonfelixwrites]

sunlit. - part two - muse one shot [harry styles au]

//

part one.

summary: in which Eden and Harry lost track of one another after she moved back to the UK, and she is visiting her father's house a year later with her boyfriend.

A/N: you guys asked for a part two.......... BUCKLE UP

word count: 18,859

CW's: age gap, SMUT! oral (f & m receiving), rimming (f & m receiving) spitting, choking, degrading, unprotected sex, anal play , mentions of a threesome

//

“Sadie…” Harry sighed, stroking his hand over his dog’s head as she whined softly, her head resting on his lap. He rolled his eyes a bit, “No need to be dramatic now. You’re the one who licked the bar of soap.”

He softly scolded the dog, always rather happy that no one could hear him as he spoke to his dogs as if they were humans.

Harry was beat. Not only was it about forty degrees outside in the peak of summer in Italy, but he had a right scare today when Sadie started throwing up. Panicked, Harry sprinted to the house of his neighbors to ask them to watch the smallest dog as he took the biggest to the vet, but no one answered.

Grumbling and cursing under his breath, Harry then brought both dogs with him. He knew Lola wouldn’t be calm when Sadie wasn’t there, so leaving her home by herself wasn’t an option. 

After a day of vet-visits, comforting Sadie and rolling his eyes when he realized she licked the bar of soap and got sick because of that - Harry was now home. Both dogs snuggled into his side as he laid on the leather couch in his living room, fan blowing in full force in an attempt to keep the three of them a little cooler.

Harry loved living in Italy. He hadn’t regretted it for a second, but days like today made it even impossible to be outside for longer than a few minutes. Even a dip in the pool wouldn’t cool him off enough. He needed to stay inside.

With his shirt unbuttoned and one hand on Sadie’s fur, he grabbed his phone. The Italian news was on but Harry hardly paid attention, opening up the dating app on his phone. He blinked while lazily scrolling, deleting every profile he came across as none of the women he saw peaked his interest.

No one had really peaked his interest in a long time. No one but Eden.

Harry clenched his jaw and sighed out through his nose, swiping the other way on a few profiles in a pathetic attempt to prove to himself that he was no longer thinking of her. It had been a fucking year. And this girl, who was ten years younger than, left a gaping hole in his heart when she left after their summer romance.

He wasn’t exactly sure what he missed. At first it was the sex, because that was the main thing about their meet-ups. Sex and sex and sex. And then he missed her smile, and her scent, and the rambles she did, and how grumpy she was in the mornings, and how she made his coffee and excitedly walked the dogs and kept him company. 

Harry hated to admit that he fell for her. 

He brought the screen a bit closer as he squinted at the description one of the women wrote on her profile.

“Looking for a serious relationship.” He mumbled, translating the italian before huffing out, “Yeah, skip.” He locked his phone again and sighed out, swallowing as he attempted to not think about Eden.

He failed, of course.

He always failed. Harry knew it was better this way. They had no future. She wouldn’t move here, and he was too set in his ways to uproot his Italian life and move back to London for a girl. Harry wasn’t pliant. If he were to meet someone, she’d have to fit his mold. Some called it stubborn, others called it being an asshole. Harry called it being his own person and protecting that. 

Sadie’s eyes closed as she laid her head on his tummy and Harry scratched below her chin for a bit to calm her. Lola snuggled into his other side and he stroked her fur too, eternally grateful for his two dogs. He wondered if they missed Eden when she left. 

He knew it was bad to be involved with her. They had to hide and she had to sneak over to his house most nights. They couldn’t decently go out, afraid of being seen. So they stayed in and Eden quickly made his house a home for herself. Harry remembered the third or fourth time she walked in, it was as if she owned the place. She knew where everything was and moved through Harry’s large house with such confidence and comfort, it almost felt like he was the visitor instead of her.

And he allowed her. He allowed her to buy plants, he allowed her to rearrange his furniture, he allowed her to tape her favorite shows on his television, he even allowed her to paint over one of the walls that had a dreadful gray color before. Every time he walked past the muted orange wall of the hallway now, he was sledgehammered back to a painting Eden in this very house.

It had never felt so lonely here as it did after she left.

He groaned to himself, running a palm over his face before deciding to just get to bed and clear his mind. It had been a year. He had to get a grip. 

His dogs whined and pouted from the movement of his body and Harry coaxed them, even picking small Lola up on his arm to carry her upstairs after he turned off the fan and locked all the doors. He checked their water bowls and made sure the water was nice and fresh for them before heading up the stairs, Sadie trotting behind him.

Harry yawned as he set Lola down on his sheets and Sadie jumped up too, almost knowing her side of the bed and leaving Harry’s untouched. His sheets were still ruffled from when he got up this morning, and Harry shrugged off the linen shirt he wore to maybe grab a quick, cold shower before bed - the ultimate way to cool down.

Walking around his bedroom, he couldn’t help it when his eyes were drawn to his window to glance at Eden’s window. The light hadn’t been on there in a year. He sometimes saw a bit of movement, but suspected it was just Ron or Colleen cleaning the room. 

But now, he stopped dead in his tracks.

It was dark outside, but her lights were on. The lights in Eden’s room were on. Harry squinted as he walked up to the window, dropping the shirt in his hand and blinking to get a clearer view of what was going on.

That’s not Eden, he thought to himself.

No, he saw a shirtless guy, leaning back against the windowsill. Harry could only see the guy’s back and shaggy brown hair. His shoulders were tense, fingers gripping around the windowsill as the guy tipped his head back. Harry’s brows raised, wondering who the hell this was.

Did Ron and Colleen rent out their house for the weekend?

“Oh my god.” Harry mumbled, bile rising up in his throat when a second person emerged.

Eden.

She rose from her knees, a smile on her lips as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and licked her lips, even wiping her mouth a bit with the back of her hand. Harry didn’t have to wonder what she was doing on her knees in front of him.

Her hair was slightly longer and a bit more wavy, and she was in a sport’s bra. Harry’s throat ran dry when he couldn’t even blink. He couldn’t move. If Eden had eyes for anything else but the guy in front of her, she’d for sure see Harry. But Eden didn’t take her eyes off the guy, smiling as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and he pulled her in for a kiss.

Harry blinked a few times, wondering if he was fucking dreaming. Eden arched into the guy, who went on to cup her ass, lifting her up easily before they disappeared from view.

The lights were still on, and Harry saw their shadows dancing on the wall of the bedroom he had the view of. He saw tangled legs for a bit, but every other part of their bodies was concealed by the curtains or the brick wall of the smaller house next to Harry’s.

He felt sick. She was here? Eden was here?

Harry’s hands trembled as he quickly pulled out his phone, scrolling down to his text-conversation with Eden.

His stomach sank a bit when he noticed the final message they had exchanged. One from her, from about seven months ago. And even before that, the conversation was mostly one sided. Eden texted him good morning on most days, and Harry only sparsely replied. 

At the time, he didn’t feel like too much of a dick about it. He basically thought he was doing her a favor. When Eden left, they promised to text and call. And they did, for the first few weeks. But it died down. Eden got a job, hung out with friends, had her life back home while Harry was here. She didn’t make plans to come here, he didn’t make plans to go there and it just… ended. 

In her last message she ever sent him, she asked him if he slept well. He never responded. It was a moment of clarity for Harry, realizing it wasn’t going anywhere and they had no future. He was a fool to think they ever did. And so he broke it off and just stopped responding.

Now, with trembling fingers, he drafted up a message to her.

Message to: Eden, xx

Am I dreaming?

His thumb ghosted over the screen as he stared at the words, flicking his eyes back to the window every few seconds until his shoulders dropped a bit. He deleted the message. 

The lights were still on but he didn’t see anything anymore. He felt sick. Absolutely sick. The first time he saw Eden in a year and she was in bed with another guy.

Eden’s phone on the bedside table stayed silent as Harry decided not to text her, and she laid on the bed with Jason between her thighs. They had to keep it down, remembering her father and Colleen were downstairs watching television.

“Careful.” Eden whispered as the bed rocked into the wall a little too hard. Jason groaned into her neck, “Fuck - I can’t slow down, ‘m so close.”

Eden pouted as she ran her hands through his hair, “I haven’t cum yet.”

Jason slammed inside of her, making Eden squeak a bit as she jolted up on the bedding. He stayed deep, completely hunched over her, “G-Give me a second.” He panted, recomposing himself. Eden bit her lip and nodded, allowing Jason a little time if it meant getting her off. She stroked her thumb over his cheekbone, staring into the deep blue of his eyes and he dropped his lips on hers, shortly kissing her. 

“Rub your clit, baby.” He whispered against her lips. Eden nodded, slipping her hand between their bodies. Jason’s cock moved inside of her, the condom and Eden’s arousal making the glide slick and easy. Her fingers found her nerves, rubbing tight circles as Jason fucked into her again, making her breathing shorter and she bit her lip to keep her moans down.

“Shit.” Eden choked on a moan as she reached her high, and Jason saw it as his cue to finally cum too, burying himself inside of her as he finished inside the condom. 

Eden lazily smiled as her body buzzed in the aftermath of her high, and Jason pressed sloppy kisses into her neck, “Hmm, baby…” He hummed.

They laid together for a bit until Jason pulled out to go clean himself up in the bathroom. Eden stretched her muscles, rolling around the bed a bit. She was still wearing her sport’s bra and reached for her panties to put them back on. As she reached for her shirt, Jason came back into the bedroom, still naked.

He sleepily smiled, “We should take a trip more often if you’re gonna jump me like that.”

Eden bit her lip and chuckled, shrugging her shoulders, “Yeah, ‘s nice here. But please don’t walk around naked, my dad or Colleen won’t appreciate it.”

Jason yawned and nodded, “Yeah, okay. Sorry.” 

Eden’s heart felt warm at his gentle apology and she planted a kiss to his lips, “Go to sleep. I’ll be right there.”

Jason plopped down into the bed as Eden stood in front of her window, her chest tightening just a smidge when she glanced at Harry’s window. His blinds were closed and the lights were off. 

Coming back here brought back all the memories. The first time she saw him through the window and waved at him, and the second time he watched her masturbate. All hell broke loose after that and they had basically been naked for weeks in a row.

And then she left and he ghosted her. And every kind word he ever said to her got drowned by the fact that he never responded when she wished him a good morning. On drunken nights, Eden was glad she blocked his number because she had been on the verge of calling him or sending him angry texts far too often. In the end, she was glad she never gave him the attention. 

Attention he clearly didn’t want anyway. 

The opportunity to go on holiday for free, staying in this house for a few weeks, was just too nice to pass on. Even if Eden could possibly be confronted by Harry. But they were both adults and she’d do her best to avoid him. Besides, she was here with Jason. 

They had only been dating for a few months but he was sweet and soft. And he was nothing like Harry. Harry was stern and dominant. Sometimes he was bossy. Furthermore, he was arrogant and closed-off. Jason was an open book. He confessed his feelings for Eden after only a few dates and it had been smooth sailing ever since. He had hearts in his eyes whenever he looked at her and she’d hardly have to breathe or Jason was ready to move mountains for her.

He was at Eden’s feet, if she was honest. He sweet, gentle and kind. And it brought a sense of freshness after whatever fling she had with Harry. She couldn’t call it a relationship. For it to be anything more than sex, they actually had to talk. And it was something her and Harry never really did. It was as if he always knew they’d end, which is why he never really opened up to her. What was the point in opening up if she’d leave?

Eden vividly remembered him asking her to cancel her flight. But he never asked her to stay, which is why he watched her go. And maybe Eden somehow made a bigger deal of it, but it did pain her when Harry ghosted her. Reflecting back on it, she knew he was toxic. She was a lost puppy for him, drunk on the sex and the way he threw her around and dominated her in the bedroom.

The orgasms Harry gave her were imprinted in her brain. How things were with Jason didn’t come close, but still satisfied her. Jason was gentle as a man, and gentle as a lover. He sometimes did what Eden asked of him, like spank her or choke her, but his heart was never really in it. She did enjoy the way he doted over her when he worried he hurt her. It was sweet. 

Jason was already lightly snoring by the time Eden also crawled in bed. He made room for her, smacking his lips together once as he yanked on her waist to pull her into his chest for the night.

Eden smiled to herself, nuzzling her nose into Jason’s jaw as she drifted off into a sleep.

***

Eden did seriously hope she could avoid Harry for just a little longer. 

It wasn’t much of a coincidence that Eden and Jason chose to take their holiday now - just as her dad and Colleen were going on a trip themselves. They were actually headed back to London to see the rest of the family, and Ron and Colleen had frowned when they realized their trip to London overlapped with Eden’s trip to Italy.

As if she hadn’t planned it that way.

So after just spending one day together at the house, it was the second morning in Italy and Eden’s dad and Colleen were making their bags to head to the airport.

It was Eden’s turn to drive them since there was only one car, and she’d be able to get around in Italy for the weeks they weren’t here. In a sense, Eden and Jason were housesitting. But Eden couldn’t wait for some uninterrupted time with him. They’d lounge around, do groceries, head to the markets and make day trips to the coast. 

Maybe they could rent a boat.

Eden hated how most of the fun things to do here were tainted with the memory of Harry. The market would bring her back to how they flirted so openly, and how Harry often called her from there to ask what she wanted for dinner. Renting a boat would bring her back to them having sex for the first time on the deck. 

To this day, it was the best sex Eden had ever had. 

Harry had been up early, jolting awake after dreaming of the images he saw the night before going to bed. 

Eden going down on that guy in her bedroom.

Part of Harry knew she was bound to return to the house one day. He didn’t have much contact with Ron and Colleen so he never asked them when she was coming back, and he also wasn’t sure if he did or didn’t want to see her again.

But seeing her again - even if it was with someone else - pulled on his heartstrings.

Although, the more he thought about it, the more he felt like she did it on purpose. It wouldn’t be the first time. Last year, she humped that pillow with her blinds open, knowing damn well Harry was watching her masturbate. Maybe she wanted him to see. Maybe she wanted to pay him back for ghosting her and make him jealous. It did seem like Eden to pull a move like that.

He peaked through his window that morning, seeing the car drive off with Eden behind the wheel. Ron was next to her, Colleen in the back. Harry nibbled his lip and leashed his dogs, taking them for a walk. He curiously stared at the house, walking past it maybe a few more times than needed. 

Eventually the door did open as Harry was on the little gravel road in front of the house, a guy popping his head out with a slight frown on his face, “Buongiorno.” He sent Harry an awkward wave, “Can I help you?”

Harry licked his bottom lip, knowing immediately this was the guy Eden had given a blowie two days prior. Sadie wiggled her tail at the sight of another human and the guy’s eyes dropped to Harry’s dogs, offering them a small smile as if to greet them.

Harry wanted to roll his eyes for no good reason. He cleared his throat and waved back, “Hello there. I’m the neighbor.”

“Oh.” The guy smiled, opening the front door wider and clearly dropping the hesitation he had going on earlier, “Hi, nice to meet you. Sorry, I just noticed you walking past the house like seven times, thought maybe you were scoping the surroundings to break in later tonight.” He joked, approaching Harry with an outstretched hand.

Harry forced another smile, somehow not finding it funny. He unenthusiastically shook the guy’s hand, “I’m Harry.”

He thought maybe the mention of his name would spark something with the guy, like Eden had perhaps mentioned him. But he just nodded and shook Harry’s hand, “Jason.” He introduced himself.

A douchebag name.

“So, a fellow Brit, right?” Jason guessed and Harry huffed out a chuckle, “Yeah, the accent’s hard to hide. Hey - uh, is Eden not home?”

Jason’s brows raised, “Eden? No, she’s driving her dad and Colleen to the airport. You must know Ron and Colleen, right?”

“Yeah.” Harry nodded, “I know Eden too.” He hinted again.

Jason slowly nodded, not catching on and Harry shot him a faint grin, secretly enjoying this very much, “She hasn’t mentioned me? We - uh, we actually used to date. Like last year when she was here for the summer.”

Jason’s brows shot up even higher as he stared at Harry, “What? You and Eden?”

“Mhm.” Harry smiled, “Kind of a… summer romance thing.” He casually shrugged, feeling as his dogs circled around his legs. Jason nibbled his lip, as if unsure how to handle that information, “Right. That’s - uh… yeah. No, she hasn’t mentioned you.” He shot Harry a puzzled look, while Harry tried to hide the fact that it pained him that Eden didn’t talk about him.

“How long have you two been together?” Harry asked the dreaded question and Jason’s face lit up a bit, “Few months, like… four.” He counted in his head before offering Harry a smile, “She’s great.”

“Oh, yeah, she’s great.” Harry enunciated the word a little too much for Jason’s liking, who swallowed, “So - yeah, it’s kind of our first trip together. Ron and Colleen are ironically heading back to London for a few weeks to see family, so we’re watching the house.” Jason explained.

Harry wasn’t sure if he had to laugh or cry. A few weeks. A few weeks of Eden being next door, fucking this guy while he was brooding in his living room, pining over a girl he let slip from his hands. He swallowed thickly, “That’s nice.”

A silence fell between them. Harry glanced at Jason, who was looking at Sadie and Lola. He looked younger. Not younger than Eden, but younger than him. His facial hair grew a little patchy and his hair was the type of shaggy that would look awful on Harry because it’d be like him trying to look too young for his age. But Jason got away with it. He was a bit shorter and not as muscular as Harry was. And Harry came to the stupid realization that Jason didn’t particularly look young, but maybe he just looked old.

Harry cleared his throat, “‘M gonna head back inside and let the dogs get their drink in.” He spoke, “Nice meeting you.”

Jason nodded and smiled, “Yeah, you too, man. If you ever need someone to watch the dogs or something… E and I would be more than happy.”

E.

Harry wanted to roll his eyes and knock Jason’s teeth out, but settled on a forced smile, “I’ll keep it in mind. Thanks.”

When Eden came back a few hours later, she felt butterflies in her stomach. Completely ignoring Harry’s house, she pulled up in the driveway of the house her and Jason would call home for a few weeks. She nearly jumped out of the car to head inside, finding Jason in the kitchen with a wide grin and immediately opening his arms for Eden to jump in them. She squealed in his ear, “Finally alone.” She whispered against his lips.

Jason kissed her lips, holding her up below her thighs, “Did everything go okay?” He checked and Eden nodded, “Mhm. I’m so glad we have the car though. We can take little day trips.” Eden stroked her fingers through Jason’s hair, “Like… go to the beach, or a winery…” She mused out loud.

Jason smiled and kissed her again, “Sounds amazing.” He let her down on her feet again, “Hey, by the way, I met the neighbor.”

Eden’s head flipped quickly, staring at him, “What?”

“Yeah, Harry.” Jason leaned back against the counter, “He - uh… he said you two used to date. Like… last year.”

Eden nibbled her lip, her stomach feeling tight at the idea that Harry and Jason talked. She swallowed, “We didn’t date.” She shrugged, “We just slept together. I was here for a few weeks after graduation and I left when I got the job offer.”

Jason slowly nodded, “Right.”

“We tried to keep in touch.” Eden continued, “Like we texted and called. And then he ghosted me.” She shrugged before nibbling her lip again, “I told you about the guy I was getting over, right? When we met?”

“Mhm, you did.” Jason didn’t seem at all angry or jealous, he was simply curious. Eden also knew he’d never lash out against her. She was pretty sure she could cheat on him and he’d still forgive her, that’s how much he liked her and how gentle he was. Eden nodded too, “Well, that was him.”

“Okay.” Jason nodded again, “I mean, that’s fine, right? He’s just a guy.” Jason shrugged, “He just… I don’t know, he looked a little old.” He chuckled.

Eden smiled too, “He’s not that old.” She shook his head, “Like… early thirties, I’m pretty sure.”

“And are you still like… I don’t know, into him?” Jason checked. Eden dropped her eyes, “I mean, I was hurt when it ended. It only did last a few weeks, but it was intense. It felt vulnerable.” She tried to explain, “But no, I don’t have any hard feelings towards him. Like you said, he’s just a guy. I wouldn’t even classify him as an ex, it was never anything official and I was never his girlfriend. We… we barely talked.”

Jason gently stroked Eden’s arm, “But he did mean something to you.”

“Yeah.” She shrugged and Jason nodded, “Well, he seemed nice.” He settled on saying. 

“I mean, now it feels kind of weird.” Eden mumbled, “Like he’s next door and I’m here and we haven’t spoken in like… eight months. And he’s talked to you but not me.” She wondered out loud, “Maybe I should just go say hi really quick.”

Jason pressed his lips together but forced Eden a smile, not having the heart to disagree with her, “Yeah, if you want to.” He shrugged, “You could.”

Eden nervously fiddled with her fingers, “Right.” She made attempts to get up from the couch, “I’ll just be a few minutes.”

Jason opened his mouth but didn’t say anything, just nodded as Eden exited the house and walked into the warm evening air of Italy. The small stones crunched underneath her slippers as she made her way over to the familiar house that was Harry’s.

She couldn’t keep count of the amount of times she had done this little walk. Sneaking out at night to go sleep at his place. She jumped his fence often, hid in the bushes, took the back entrance. But now, it felt formal. So Eden rolled her lips inside of her mouth and shakily raised her hand to ring his bell.

Eden didn’t know why she was nervous. It was like Jason said, Harry was just a guy. A guy she had feelings for, a guy who hurt her. But a guy who told her it was never that deep and Eden knew from the get-go not to get her hopes up. But time and romance were a cruel combination, and the feelings snuck up on her.

Sure, she was the one who left. And Eden only did realize how much she missed him once she was back in London. Harry couldn’t be persuaded to visit her and he never asked her to come back to Italy. And that was that.

Lola and Sadie both lifted their heads when someone rang the bell late in the evening. Harry had returned from walking them and was watching some Italian game show as he laid on the leather couch with the fan blowing full speed to keep them a little cool. 

He ran a hand through his hair and frowned, gently nudging Sadie off as his bare feet hit the cold tiles and he walked over to the front door. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but somehow the sight of Eden didn’t completely surprise him.

She peered up at him and he blinked, hit with every memory of her in front of his door. The playful smile was replaced with a nervous one, and she didn’t jump into his arms for them to stumble inside the house this time, rather had her hands locked behind her back as she nervously shifted on her feet.

“Uh - hi.” He mumbled, his chest pounding as Eden swallowed, “Hey. I - uh… Jason said you spoke to him. Thought I’d come say hi.” She shrugged.

“Jason.” Harry nodded, opening the door a bit wider, “Yeah.” He then let out a sharp breath, shaking his head, “It’s… it’s good to see you.”

Eden wanted to roll her eyes but settled on another small smile, “Mhm. You too.” She had questions burning on her tongue but swallowed them all back. She didn’t want to give Harry the satisfaction. Her eyes glanced inside the house longingly. She did always love this house. 

She remembered the paint stains on her skin after transforming that horrendous gray wall in the hallway. Eden wondered if her plants got taken care of once she left, or if Harry let them wilt and die.

A gentle bark from inside the house made her brows raise and a small smile played on her lips. Harry glanced over his shoulder before clearing his throat, “You wanna see the dogs?” He questioned.

Eden knew it was dangerous territory to get inside of his house. Harry was charismatic and somehow had such a huge amount of power over her, Eden found it hard to explain. She had her boyfriend next door and was supposed to only quickly say hi to Harry to avoid any awkwardness later on - but she found herself nodding at his question, “Sure.”

Harry opened the door wider, biting his lip when Eden brushed past him and into the house. She wasn’t hesitant when rounding corners and she moved through the furniture almost blindly. The smell of her perfume lingering behind her felt overwhelming to Harry, who leaned against the doorpost as he watched a brightly smiling Eden crouch down to greet Lola.

Both dogs excitedly wagged their tails and circled around Eden, booping her over and over again as she giggled, “Hi, girls.” She whispered, “Hi. Did you miss me?” She spoke in a little baby voice and Harry couldn’t stop the smile from spreading on his lips, “I think they did.”

Eden flicked her eyes to the side, swallowing as Harry watched her. She got up her feet again and Harry cleared his throat, “Sadie got sick actually, yesterday. She licked a bar of soap and started throwing up. Took her to the vet.” He wasn’t sure why he told that random story, maybe to break the silence. It felt nerve-wracking to have Eden in the room with him. 

There was tension. He wanted to walk up to her and kiss her and drag her upstairs to claim her again, but Eden had her guard up. He could sense it from a fucking mile away. 

“Right.” She breathed, swallowing away the lump in her throat. Eden glanced to the side to see the dead plants. Her fingers trembled a bit but she tried to play it so fucking cool. Harry didn’t deserve to see her suffer. It was almost as if Eden didn’t realize how hurt and angry she actually was until she saw him. Until he acted so fucking casual.

“You wanna drink something?” He suggested, breaking the silence.

Eden wanted to laugh. She shook her head before tilting it to the side, “Think a glass of wine will get me back in your bed?”

Harry’s brows raised at her blunt words. He knew Eden didn’t bite her tongue. He knew she was sharp and witty and always had a response. His shoulders tensed a bit, “No.” He mumbled, “That’s not… that’s not what I was trying to do.” It was.

Eden huffed softly, “Right.”

Harry frowned a little, “Is there… do you have some problem with me?”

“Me?” Eden raised her brows, “Nope.” She lied, “Look, I just wanted to come over and say hi. It felt weird that you spoke to Jason before speaking to me.” She tried to exit the house again but Harry blocked her and Eden had a fiery look in her eyes as she looked up at him, “I’d really like for you to leave us alone.”

Fuck, Eden tried to keep her cool but she couldn’t. She was two seconds away from completely exploding. All the emotions she had tucked away for months in a row, came back in full force. She never got to tell him. She never told him how it felt for her, how she coped, how she hurt. Harry had no fucking clue.

Harry gave her a puzzled look. He almost wasn’t sure if she was joking or not, “I-I am. Leaving you alone.” He shrugged, “You came knocking on my door.” It was childish and he knew it and Eden rolled her eyes. His chest tightened. He loved it when she did that. When she got so fucking bratty. Usually she did it because she was so passionate about a certain topic they got into a heated discussion.

Harry loved riling her up just for the sake of punishing her later on. And Eden loved it too. It was a bit of a toxic game they had going on. But now, Eden was pissed. 

“You chose your moment, hm?” She challenged, “Searching for Jason while I wasn’t there.”

“I was walking my fucking dogs, Eden.” Harry gritted through his teeth. God, he didn’t expect it to turn out this way, “Public street.”

“Should I have thrown pebbles at your window the evening you arrived, hm? While you were blowing that twat?!” The words were out before he realized it and Eden’s eyes widened in surprise. Her cheeks turned hot as she took a step back, “What?!”

Harry clenched his jaw and bit his tongue as he grumbled under his breath and Eden huffed out sharply, “Fucking hell - you saw me?!”

“Close your blinds!”

Eden gasped, “Then don’t fucking look! Oh my god!” She shook her head in disbelief, “You fucking pervert.”

Harry put his hands on his hips as he exhaled sharp breaths, swallowing, “I-I couldn’t not look. You were right there. I didn’t expect to fucking see you.”

Eden balled her fists, refraining herself from shoving him, “You have lost your fucking rights to spy on me through my window, Harry.” She bitterly spoke, “And I honestly didn’t think you’d even care.” She added the final bit in a mumble. 

Harry closed his jaw, lowering his gaze, “Why would I not care?”

“Because you fucking ghosted me.” Eden’s voice dangerously wobbled and she recomposed herself, taking a deep breath, “You don’t have the right.” She spoke, shaking her head, “Just… leave me and my boyfriend alone.”

She brushed past him this time, knocking her shoulder into Harry’s arm as she left the house. Eden ignored the whining of his dogs and only let a few tears fall once she was out on the street. Her heart hammered and she was crying out of sheer, sheer frustration.

The fucking nerve he had.

Eden hadn’t even thought twice when leaving the blinds open as she was on her knees for Jason. Her thoughts weren’t with Harry, but with her boyfriend. And he watched her. He couldn’t have seen much, but it felt too intimate for Eden. He was too close, again.

She felt vile, knowing Harry had watched her. It struck a nerve with her, but Eden felt just a tad bit better about herself when she realized it apparently struck a nerve with Harry too. He sounded jealous. And Eden knew it sounded petty, but she was kind of glad she could hurt him back, even if it was in the worst way.

Her rage died down once Eden walked back into the house to find a smiling Jason on the couch, “Hey.” He got up his feet, “How’d it go?”

“Fine.” Eden breathed before she pressed a small kiss to his lips, “He won’t bother us.”

Jason had a puzzled look in his face as his thumb stroked the nape of Eden’s neck. He looked like he wanted to ask more, but didn’t. Eden closed her eyes and kissed him again, determined to turn this into a great vacation with her boyfriend.

***

Harry felt miserable.

He peered out his front window, Lola circling around his leg as he held the toy he had throwing back and forth for her, in his hand.

His eyes were on Eden and Jason, who were loading up the car for another little day trip.

He heard Eden’s playful giggle and it made his skin crawl. The wind played with the short hem of her sundress and even got a glimpse of her underwear as she lifted her arms to pull Jason in for a kiss.

His stomach turned watching her be so happy with someone else. Jason gently patted her ass, whereas Harry would’ve grabbed it. Jason’s hand rested on the nape of Eden’s neck as she got behind the wheel to drive, whereas Harry’s hand would’ve been between her thighs to tease her during the drive.

And so Harry had a crisis that day. An existential crisis.

In all his impulsivity, he even looked up apartments or houses in London. He closed the website again after about thirty minutes, telling himself he was being ridiculous. Uprooting his life for a girl who was taken and told him to leave her alone? Pathetic.

He got back to scrolling on the dating apps but that lasted for just a few minutes. His mind constantly drifted to Eden. How she made him feel so light. He had to get used to her bubbly, bratty personality. But Eden was a sweetheart and she’d walk through fire for the people she cared about. She was passionate, fiery, and unapologetically honest. 

And he was a fucking coward.

He let her slip away. Eden presented herself on a silver platter for him but Harry turned her down. And he fucking missed her so much. His life had been so dull without her. Harry had always liked being alone. His life here was secluded. He had a few friends who came to stay every once in a while, but lost touch with a lot of people he left behind in Britain. Harry wasn’t… the best at keeping in touch. Contact just fizzled out, friendships disappeared. 

He was close to his mum but didn’t see her a lot. His sister called sometimes but she had a family and was busy. Harry didn’t have an important ex-wife or kids, so he was just by himself a lot. And it had never felt as lonely as it did when he watched Eden drive away with Jason and not him.

He swallowed thickly, reminded of the little getaways they did the year before. Eden in the passenger seat, kissing on his neck and unbuttoning his shirt as the wind played with her hair and she whispered things in his ear, so filthy to the point Harry pulled over on a remote road and yanked her on his lap for a quickie. 

They had fun, last summer. Once the elastic snapped, they had fun like Harry had never had before. And he fooled himself into thinking it was just sex. It wasn’t.

Harry knew he could either walk around, brooding all day, or he could do something. And so he opened up the dating app again and texted back one of the women who tried to hit him up over the past few weeks. 

She was Italian and beautiful, and responded right away, agreeing to a date that same evening. Harry tried to ease his mind, knowing he’d have company tonight. Who knew, she could be the love of his life.

It’s what he told himself when he drove off into town to meet up with her. And low and behold, the date was fun. Fun enough that she agreed to come back to his place afterwards for a drink and to meet his dogs.

Eden felt alerted when she heard the engines pulling up on the road as her and Jason laid in bed watching a movie. The window was open for fresh air and his fingers played with her hair as they watched a very pixelated version of some action movie that Jason wanted to see. Eden had to admit she dozed off every once in a while.

She felt like toast after lounging on the beach today, and surprisingly, the doing nothing tired her out. 

Eden yawned as she got up, frowning slightly when she noticed two cars pulling up into Harry’s driveway. She recognized his cabrio but the white car next to his was unknown to her. Her stomach dropped into her ass when she saw a beautiful brunette walking out. Harry had a charming smile on his lips as he guided her towards the front door.

“Everything okay?” Jason checked. Eden swallowed, “Mhm.” She smiled, “Everything’s fine.”

She felt hot, opening up the window all the way in hopes of cooling down a bit. Harry brought home another woman. Eden tried not to think of how often that had probably happened in the past year. Perhaps he even did it while they were still calling and texting.

Hiking her leg up over Jason’s hips, Eden peppered gentle kisses over his jaw. He raised his brows as he turned his head with a knowing smirk, and Eden bit her lip before their lips met and the movie was forgotten.

“And this is my bedroom.” Harry spoke in Italian as he guided the woman through his house. Eva was gorgeous and she smiled as her heeled feet took her through his bedroom, inspecting some of the books on his tv-stand, “Hai una bella casa.” She complimented.

He smiled and nodded, “Sì, mi piace qui.”

His eye caught the brightness in Eden’s bedroom through his window, and he softly cleared his throat as he walked up to Eva. She didn’t seem very surprised when he put his hands on her hips and nudged her back into the windowsill. The breeze played with her hair, Harry’s window on a crack.

He tested the waters, nerves creeping up in his body. He hadn’t done this in a while. His nose bumped Eva’s before he carefully kissed her. She reciprocated easily, fingers sliding up his shoulders as their lips touched.

She leaned back against the windowsill as the kiss slowly grew a bit heavier, and then Harry froze.

Because he heard it. He heard her. A soft moan filled his ear and it came from a distance. It came from Eden. His eyes snapped open and his body went rigid, alerting Eva. She frowned a little bit in confusion, “Tutto ok?” She asked and Harry quickly nodded, clearing his throat before he kissed her again.

He knew the way Eden sounded. He knew she wasn’t particularly loud, she wasn’t a screamer. Harry knew these were the sounds she made when she was enjoying herself. And it was Jason’s doing, not his. The only salvation he felt was knowing she used to be noisier with him. She used to gasp and sob and whimper, which she didn’t do now. Eden softly moaned and Harry kept his eyes on the window as he kissed Eva. Part of him expected Eden to pop up in front of her window any moment now, but he saw nothing but shadows on the walls.

He imagined her on her back with her legs locked around Jason’s head as he had his tongue on her. 

Harry sighed out through his nose, deepening the kiss with Eva and attempting to block out Eden’s moans. But he couldn’t stop listening either. How fucking convenient that Eden left her window wide open while she was fucking her boyfriend.

Almost too convenient, right? Harry couldn’t help but think she did it on purpose to get a rise out of him. Wanting him to leave her alone and then pulling this move.

A shaky squeak escaped Eden and Harry’s hand grabbed Eva’s ass, pushing his hips against hers. Eva moaned out and their kiss broke shortly, “Shh.” Harry shushed her, resuming their kissing. He needed Eva quiet so he could hear Eden.

And he heard her. He heard her giggling, the shadows on the walls moving and he heard the unmistakable creak of the bed. He heard the familiar gasp she let out when she got filled, and Harry’s stomach turned when he knew Jason was inside of her. 

It was confirmed when he heard skin slapping against skin, Eden’s delicate whimpers accompanied by panting breaths from the guy fucking her.

Harry’s fingers dug into Eva’s skin as he only kissed her harder and harder, and his bulge grew and pressed into the soft of her covered tummy. But it wasn’t due to her. Sure, she was beautiful, she was nice and they had fun. But listening to Eden moaning so sweetly made Harry have a physical reaction he didn’t expect. 

He was even scared to blink, so desperate to get a glimpse of Eden, to know what she was doing, to know how her face scrunched up or how her eyes watered or how she bit her lip.

Her moans grew a bit higher and sharper and Harry groaned under his breath, the sound swallowed by Eva when Eden unmistakably came.

It was Eva this time who pulled away, her cheeks a bit pink. She let out an uncomfortable chuckle and glanced over her shoulder to Eden’s open window, “È un po’ inquietante, non è vero?” She commented on the noises coming out of Eden’s room.

Harry swallowed, his hard-on trapped in his pants and his breathing came out in sharp puffs. He felt sick. “Mi dispiace.” He murmured the apology as he let go of Eva and took a few steps back. Harry ran a hand through his hair, “I can’t do this. N-Non posso farlo.”

Eva looked at him in confusion but Harry sat down on the edge of his bed, burying his face in his hands. It was quiet for a few minutes until Eva’s footsteps walked past him and then downstairs. He stayed in his bedroom until the front door slammed and he heard her engine.

And he was alone again. He sniffled once in misery, lifting his head as he ran his hands over his face and tiredly got up his feet. Standing in front of his window to close it, he glanced up to see Eden. She didn’t notice him, one hand holding the sheet around her chest to cover herself up and her other hand grabbing the handle of the window to close it.

Their eyes locked as both went to close their window and Eden froze for a moment, seeing the pained look in Harry’s face. Her cheeks flushed at the thought he might’ve heard or seen something. Without giving him another glance, Eden closed the window and closed the blinds.

It was safe to say Harry still felt miserable the next day. He was sure Eden would think it was too convenient that he went on a jog the same moment she did. She stepped outside early in the morning the next day, wearing a sport’s bra and shorts to brave the heat even that early on in the day.

Glancing to her side, Harry also left his house, wearing a tanktop and shorts. He had a clip in his hair and headphones on, glancing to his side to see her looking back at him. Eden rolled her eyes and shook her head. Tightening her ponytail, she started her jog and ran past him without giving him a look. Going down the hill, Harry pressed his lips together before he followed behind her.

He tried to keep a distance, but he was still running rather close to her. And Eden felt agitated. About halfway down the hill, she briskly turned around while panting, “Will you stop that?!” She snapped.

Harry frowned as he yanked the headphones off, “What?” He hadn’t heard her through the music.

“Running right behind me.” Eden clarified, “Will you stop that?”

Harry huffed, “Look, I’m just going for a jog.” He shrugged, “Great minds think alike, I suppose.”

“You said you’d leave me alone.” Eden ran the back of her hand over her forehead to get rid of the sweat pearling at her hairline. The early sun lit her up, midriff heaving from the jog she had done thus far. Harry panted too, scoffing, “I am leaving you alone. But it’s a bit hard when I can’t go to sleep without hearing you getting fucked by your twat of a boyfriend.” He bit.

Eden’s lips pressed together, “That… Look, I’m sorry. I-I forgot about the window.”

“Sure.” Harry sneered, exhaling a humorless laugh. He felt blazing fire in his chest all of a sudden, so done with Eden’s allegations, “Like last year, hm? When you humped a pillow and pretended you didn’t want me to see you?”

“Stop.” Eden frowned, shaking her head, “Don’t bring that up, that was a long time ago. Look, I apologized. It won’t happen again.”

“Just admit that you were trying to make me jealous.”

It was Eden’s turn to let out a bitter cackle, “Excuse me?! I’d say you’re the one making me jealous, bringing home that woman.”

Harry felt a flash of pride welling up inside him that Eden noticed that. He fought the grin on his lips and instead bit his tongue. Eden glared at him, “Besides, why the fuck would I want to make you jealous?! You skipped me, remember?”

Harry shook his head to himself and silence fell between them. Eden swallowed, crossing her arms in front of her chest, “I’m with someone else now. You don’t have… a claim over me anymore.”

“I miss you.”

Eden’s eyes widened and Harry’s shoulders dropped when the truth was finally out. After over a week of pining over her, here he was, spilling it all. He swallowed and shrugged, “I fucking miss you, Eden. I missed you. I-I was an idiot. And now you’re here and I know you missed me too, a-and I just want to go back what we were before.”

“And what exactly were we before?” Eden tried to keep her voice stern but it cracked as she challenged him with the question. Harry pressed his lips together, staring at his feet for a moment, “Just… us, I guess.”

Eden wanted to sigh at the words, because to her - they didn’t mean anything.

“I have a boyfriend.” She spoke. It was a weak defense and Harry huffed, “Yeah, I know.”

“Jason is sweet. He… He’s good to me.”

Harry chewed the inside of his cheek, “So he’s a doormat? Jesus, Eden - I know what it is you need, and it’s not sweet.”

Eden shook her head, “You don’t know.”

“I do.”

She sharply flicked her eyes up, “You don’t. Stop saying that.”

Harry’s lip twitched up in a little smirk, “See? There she is.” He took a step closer to her and Eden wanted to sink down her knees when Harry had to hardly use three words to get her wet and worked-up for him. She didn’t even know what it was, just his… demeanor. The way he carried himself. He was an asshole but she couldn’t help being so turned on by him.

Harry’s fingertip brushed her brow bone and Eden held her breath as Harry cooed her, “Feisty girl, hm? You’re a brat, Eden. You wanna be put in place, you need it. You crave it.”

Eden pressed her lips together as Harry stepped even closer to her, dick coming to life in his pants when he could see every detail on her face. The darkness in her eyes, the freckles on her nose, the piercing scar at the top of her ear, the drop of sweat running down her chest. God, he wanted to lick it up. He swallowed thickly, “He’s too sweet, Eden. You don’t want sweet. You want a challenge. You like the chase, you like the fight. Must be boring, hm? To be with someone who gives in so easily? I bet he kisses the ground you walk on.”

Eden’s shoulders tensed as Harry’s fingers trailed down the side of her neck and followed the shape of her sport’s bra down the swells of her breasts. Goosebumps rose over her skin as he near tickled her, and Eden didn’t move even an inch.

Harry fought his smirk at the reaction her body gave him. She was almost trembling. 

“And I did too. I just made you work for it.” He mumbled.

“I followed you around like a puppy.” Eden exhaled, swallowing and Harry hummed, “And now he follows you around like a puppy. How’s it feel, having a pussy sub for a boyfriend?” And Harry knew he took it too far. Eden frowned and took a step back, his touch disappearing, “H-He’s not -”

“He’s not?” Harry raised his brows, “I heard you yesterday, Eden. Don’t lie to me. I could tell you were having a good time but…” He stepped closer again, “I didn’t hear you whining, or sobbing. I didn’t hear spanking or spitting or slapping.” He listed. Eden lowered her eyes but Harry grabbed her chin, forcing her to stare up at him. She held her breath, feeling so dizzy with him this close, “He’s a fucking boy, Eden.” Harry whispered, “Thought you said you needed a real man?”

Eden’s brain turned foggy. She wanted to kiss him so bad. And drag him in the bushes and ride him until she passed out. The sexual tension between them was unmatched. It had been from the get-go. From the first time they spoke to each other with the barrier of the garden fence between them.

Harry’s voice dropped to a whisper, “I think he’s merely dipping his toe in the garden of Eden, isn’t he?” His tone was velvety smooth and Eden fought for a breath. She nearly leaned in and Harry noticed, letting go of her chin yet gently wrapping his hand around her throat, “Place of pleasure and delight.” He crooned, “And fuck, it is. And I wanna drown in it.”

Use me, Eden wanted to scream. Her body was frozen and Harry wouldn’t act on it without her consent, so with a small bump of his nose against her and a very uncomfortable stiffy in his running shorts, he increased the distance between them again.

Eden was grateful for the hand around her throat, Harry almost holding her up or she’d be a puddle on the floor.

“Come by tonight.” Harry gave her throat a gentle squeeze, making Eden softly gasp as her eyes fluttered. Her pussy clenched around nothing and she dryly swallowed, straightening up a bit. Harry let go of her throat and Eden took a breath, “I-I have a boyfriend.” She repeated.

Harry smirked, “Didn’t I tell you to bring him?”

***

“A threesome?” Jason frowned at Eden.

Eden stood in front of the couch with her hands on her hips. She had a towel around her form, having just gotten out of the shower after her run. She found Jason downstairs, scrolling on his phone as the coffee ran in the kitchen.

She exhaled and adjusted the towel around her chest, “It’s…” She sat down next to him, scooting close, “You don’t have to agree. You can say no.”

Jason didn’t respond right away, the frown staying on his forehead and Eden nibbled her lip, hair dripping down her shoulders, “He suggested it and told me to ask you. So… here I am. But I promise, if you’re not into it, you can say no. I won’t mind.”

Jason warily glanced at her, “And you won’t go fuck him behind my back?” He softly asked. Eden pressed her lips together and shook her head, “No. Promise.”

He dropped his head back into the couch, “I mean, I’ve done it before.” He mumbled and Eden scooted closer still, “So have I.”

“I just… I don’t know him? And he’s your ex.”

“Not my ex.” She slightly corrected him, finding it an important nuance that her and Harry were never boyfriend and girlfriend. Jason swallowed as he looked at Eden, “You know I’m not the jealous type, Eden. I-I’m not sure what the meaning is behind this.”

“I’m not trying to make you jealous.” She frowned, placing her hand on his thigh soothingly. Was that his worry? That he wouldn’t freak out when Harry was inside of her? Eden didn’t expect him to. She nibbled her lip again, “There’s not really a meaning behind this. Sex with Harry was really good and it’d just be that for the three of us - sex.”

Jason seemed lost in thought, “I mean, I’m open to it. I’ve never done it with one of the people involved being my partner.” He admitted, “It’s always been friends or strangers, makes it less… complicated.”

“I get that.” Eden nodded.

“I mean, you’re my girlfriend and he’s a guy I’ve spoken to only once. Not to mention he’s ten years older.”

Eden swallowed, “He’s not like… a predator or anything.”

“No, I know.” Jason mumbled before he locked eyes with Eden again, “So he basically wants to sleep with you, but since you’re taken… I’m the bonus?” He had a slightly joking hint to his tone and Eden’s lips curled up into a smile as she chuckled, “Basically, yeah.”

Jason shakily exhaled, shaking his head softly, “Don’t know how you all put us under your spell, E. Seriously.”

Eden’s chest fluttered when she felt Jason giving in. He flicked his eyes up to her again, “I’m not just an extra bonus for you, am I? I won’t just be there for shits and giggles?”

“No.” Eden immediately shook her head, “I promise.” She scooted even closer, “I like you so much, Jason. You’re so sweet.” Her hand cupped his jaw, much like Harry had done to her during their jog. Eden had no idea that going for a run in the morning would turn to this. An altercation with Harry, him basically making her cum with just a brush of his fingers over her skin, and her asking Jason if he’s down for a threesome.

“You’d both be there for me.” She whispered softly. Jason’s lip twitched up in a small grin, “Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

Jason turned to face Eden, “So, what’s he like?” He curiously asked, “Like… I’m more of a sub, I think. Like you said, I’m sweet. A-And I think you know that I’m sweet in every sense of the word.” He murmured.

Eden shot him a small smile, “I’m sure Harry can dominate enough for the three of us.”

Jason shot her a faint smile and then nodded, “Okay. If you’re comfortable with the two of us, I am too.”

“Don’t just do it for me.” Eden exhaled and Jason chuckled, “I’m not. You know I’m open to that. We’re a couple, but we’re open with each other. I’m cool with it.”

Eden bit her lip and bashfully smiled, her skin heating at the thought. Harry, Jason and her. She hated how her thoughts immediately drifted to Harry. God, he could get her off with the flick of his thumb over her clit. She was reminded of that one time he did nothing but rub circles on her clit while whispering dirty Italian talk in her ear. She came so hard she almost passed out.

A shudder wrecked her body and Jason cocked up a brow, huffing out a chuckle, “I take it you’re cool with it too.”

“Yeah.” Eden giggled, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to his lips, “And about not really knowing him… Harry invited us to spend the day around his pool.” She softly shrugged.

Jason raised his brows, “Really? That’s nice.”

“Hm.” Eden nodded, “So… I’d say we have breakfast and get ready, and then we can head over.” She shrugged softly. Jason smiled and nodded, squeezing her thigh, “Sounds good.”

Harry was in the house next door, pacing around his kitchen. The heads of Sadie and Lola followed his every move as he had his hands in his hair, wondering what the fuck he had just done. He wanted Eden so bad. So fucking pathetically bad that he’d willingly bring her boyfriend in the mix.

Harry was no stranger to a threesome or an adventurous night with a man. He had done it before, he was quite fluid in that department, but he had never done that with someone he had feelings for.

He just knew it’d be worth it, but he was being blinded by lust. And that lust was just the top layer, while there was so much more underneath that. An array of feelings for Eden. So strong and romantic his heart pulsed in his chest at the thought of her smile. 

Harry didn’t know what kind of guy Jason was. He was good-looking, obviously. And Eden said he was sweet. Too sweet for her, Harry thought. But that wasn’t his problem. Eden would very soon figure out that Jason was not what she wanted at all. But Harry just needed a chance to show her. If his feelings about Jason were correct, he’d agree to a threesome just to make Eden happy.

He followed her around, just like Eden followed Harry around. It pained him when she said that, because even though that was their dynamic at first, Harry could argue that Eden had way more power over him than the other way around. And he didn’t necessarily want this power either. Maybe in their sex life, it was a fun dynamic, but in real life, he wanted to be equals. Partners.

“Jesus.” Harry mumbled to himself when he realized how fucking whipped he sounded. But he was past that point. He was past fooling his brain that he was doing himself a favor by ghosting her. He craved her like a flower craving a drop of rain. And she was so close.

He wasn’t entirely surprised when the door rang about an hour later. Harry had been lounging around in swimming shorts and a linen shirt, bucket hat on his head to protect himself from the sun as the dogs were outside in the shade.

Opening the front door, he was met with Eden in a white, flowy dress and Jason standing behind her and sending him a slightly nervous smile.

“Hi.” Eden breathed, glancing at Jason over her shoulder, “We - uh… we’re here.”

“I can see that.” Harry chuckled, even if his heart beat overtime. He opened up the door wider, “Come on in.”

Eden strutted past him as Jason made a small stop, shaking Harry’s hand in a greeting, “Hey, man.”

“Hey, make yourself at home.” Harry nodded. Eden was right. Jason was kind. He could see it throughout the afternoon. Jason doted over Eden like no one else. They constantly laid whispering and giggling together while Harry observed. Whenever Eden took a dip in the pool, Jason came with her. He carried her around the water as she had her thighs locked around his hips and they exchanged kisses.

And Harry couldn’t remember why he thought this was a good idea. A raging pit of jealousy had nestled itself in his tummy as he watched the pair. His Eden. It had been another thing to hear her getting fucked, but it was another level of painful to see her be so romantic with someone that wasn’t him.

Eden insisted on making them a little lunch. Harry wasn’t worried when Eden claimed to know where everything in the kitchen was. Him and Jason stayed outside on the sunbeds as the crickets filled the silence and the sun was high up in the air.

“So…” Jason broke the silence and Harry softly opened his eyes that had dropped close, almost dozing off into a nap. He turned his head to see Jason, a small smirk on his lips, “So.” Harry mimicked.

Jason chuckled, “You and me and Eden, huh?”

“It appears so.” Harry nodded with a smirk. Jason exhaled a breath, “Are you comfortable with that?”

“I am.” Harry spoke without missing a beat, “Are you?”

“Yep.”

Harry pressed his lips together, just a small part of him wishing Jason would back out. “I mean, I think we’d both be there for Eden.”

“Yeah, I think so too.” Jason agreed, “I’m not sure if we’re… you know.”

“Well, I for sure wouldn’t mind.” Harry wasn’t lying and Jason smirked back, “Neither would I.”

But then, Eden reappeared from inside. She wore a dark green two-piece and immediately, both men stared at her, no longer having any interest in one another. Eden felt stupidly gorgeous as they both gawked at her. She made it into a little show, putting the plates down while pressing her tits together and arching her back.

“No drooling.” She teased cheekily. Jason chuckled and Harry licked his lip, “You look delicious.”

“What?”

“The food.” He corrected himself with a smirk, “The food looks delicious. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Eden winked and Harry’s stomach did a flip. He despised himself.

The three of them ate and Eden then took another dip in the pool. When Harry glanced at Jason to see that he was not following her in, the two of them locked eyes. Jason gave him the smallest of nods and Harry swallowed, shrugging off his linen shirt before following Eden into the pool after silently receiving Jason’s permission.

Eden resurfaced after diving in, seeing Harry make his way down the steps. The breath got knocked out of her lungs at the sight of his chiseled, tattooed body. He was so gorgeous she felt her pussy clenching around nothing. Every inch of his body brought back memories.

His mouth, his fingers, his thighs. The fucking tiger tattoo. The butterfly that was covered in her arousal more times than she could count. His neck that used to be littered in hickeys. His hair that she loved to pull when he had his tongue between her thighs. 

Eden exhaled a shaky breath as Harry took a small dive and resurfaced, pushing his wet hair away from his forehead. His smirk made her want to moan and Eden stayed still in the shallow end, the water reaching below her breasts as Harry swam over to her.

“Think you need another layer of sunscreen.” He rasped, eyes drawn to her chest, “You’re looking a little burned.”

“Oh.” Eden glanced down too before nodding, “Yeah, maybe.”

Harry and her stared at one another for a bit, both aware of Jason’s eyes on them. Eden took a breath, “Thank you for letting us stay over today.”

“That’s fine. I love having you in my house.” Harry shrugged.

Eden nibbled her lip, “Harry… what today is, and what tonight will be… it doesn’t change anything, okay? It’s just sex.”

“Yeah.” He lied, “Just sex.”

Eden narrowed her eyes, “I mean it.”

Harry huffed out a chuckle, “Me too.” He swam closer to her, both in the shallow end of the pool now. His hands easily found her underneath the surface of the water and Eden choked on a breath when his hands were around her midsection to easily tug her into his body. 

She trembled, goosebumps rising over her skin. She hadn’t been touched by him in so long. Large hands easily knew their way around her form as Harry spun her around, her back pressed to his chest. Her hands found the edge of the pool as she stared into Jason’s eyes, Harry standing behind her.

His nose ran along her shoulder, “So tonight…” He murmured.

“Mhm.” Eden swallowed, “Tonight.”

She shuddered when Harry pressed a kiss so light to her shoulder she could’ve imagined it. Jason watched along as Harry pressed Eden a bit further into the side of the pool, dick hardening in his swimming shorts and pressing against her ass.

“How do you still like it?” Harry whispered.

Eden leaned back into him as she panted out, “L-Like I used to.”

“Yeah?” His voice dripped honey. His hands circled around her tummy and Eden arched as Harry kissed the side of her neck, “You still like it when I’m so deep inside you it almost hurts?”

“Shit.” Eden whimpered, leaning back further into him, head dropping down onto his shoulder. She kept her eyes locked with Jason’s, who watched the interaction. Harry glanced at him too, “Is he as big as me?”

“No.” She breathed. Harry hummed, “Shame. Does he get to fuck your ass?”

Eden swallowed, “Uh-huh.”

“Does he slap you? Bite you? Spank you? Choke you?” Harry’s one hand moved up to her throat and Eden’s eyes rolled back. His hips pushed against her ass, grinding his erection against her. This was a fucking dream, Harry thought. This couldn’t be real. 

Eden fought for a breath, “W-When I ask him to.”

“Shame again.” Harry whispered, “No need to worry, baby. I know just how you like it. Does he make you squirt?”

No. Eden wanted to say but she nibbled her lip, “Sometimes.”

“Ragazza dolce.” Harry murmured. It sounded sweet, but it had a condescending tone. He smirked against her skin, “Lying for him… you must really like him, hm?”

Eden sighed out, turning her head slightly. Harry pressed a kiss to her temple, “Missed you so fucking much. No one feels like you do.”

Her knuckles turned white as they gripped the edge of the pool, water sploshing around them. Harry’s lips feathered down the column of her throat and over her sunkissed shoulder, “Can’t want to be inside you tonight. Feel you cream and squirt all over me, fucking hell.” He rutted his hips forward tonight.

“Where do you want me tonight, hm?” Harry rasped, his hand released her throat as it slipped down her abdomen. Eden’s eyes shot open, her tummy clenching as his fingers found the waistband of her bikini bottoms underneath the water. Harry’s breathing puffed against her skin as he wanted to cup her cunt underneath the water, but Eden’s hand tightly clasped around his wrist before he could touch her.

She panted out and Harry chuckled into her skin, kissing below her ear, “What’s the matter? Don’t tell me he turned you into a good girl, hm?”

Eden couldn’t think straight as Harry peppered kisses on her skin, going back to holding onto her waist as he grinded into her ass, “Remember when I ate you out on the edge of the pool?” He mused.

Eden’s eyes fluttered as she felt his hard length pressing into her and Harry bit the lobe of her ear, “Eden.” He reprimanded, “Do you remember?”

“Yes.” She swallowed, “Yes, I remember.”

“Good. You were always such a sweet little slut for me. Letting me use you however I wanted. Just needed me to take care of you, hm?”

“Oh my god.” She whimpered. Harry wanted to pump his fists in the air. He had her in the palm of his hand. He cooed her condescendingly, “So easy to ruin you. So easy to use you. Just have to whisper in your ear and you’re almost begging to choke on my cock.”

One of Eden’s hands flew behind her, gripping onto the back of Harry’s neck. He groaned softly, flicking his eyes up to lock eyes with Jason, who was still looking. Eden rolled her ass back against Harry as she panted out, dry humping him.

Harry smirked, letting go of inhibitions as he slipped his fingers underneath the triangles covering Eden’s tits, cupping her chest and giving a squeeze. The perfect handful for him. Eden gasped and arched more, providing him pressure and Harry licked the hinge of her jaw. Every dirty memory entered his brain. He remembered it all, every second he spent with her. 

“Gonna fuck you so good tonight.” He promised, “Make you feel what you’ve been missing, hm? Such a whore for my cock.” 

“Harry…” Eden whimpered and Harry grunted, “Fuck.”

The shadow of Jason looming over them made Harry and Eden both open their eyes. Jason stared down at her, panting and gasping as Harry grinded into her ass from behind, her head lulled back, her eyes hazy, her mouth open. His lip twitched up in a smirk, matching Harry’s. Harry latched his lips onto Eden’s neck, tugging her back into the pool to allow Jason room to join them.

He was hard in his shorts, Harry could tell. Eden’s breaths shortened when she locked eyes with Jason, who pressed himself against her front. She was smushed between both men and Jason wasted no time in cupping her ass, tugging her hips into him as he kissed her. Harry kept up the grinding against her backside, watching as Eden’s tongue slipped out to lick into Jason’s mouth.

His jealousy raged throughout his entire body and Harry grabbed her throat again, harder this time until Eden choked on a breath. She broke the kiss with a moan, tugging Harry’s hair as he had one hand around her throat and the other on her breast. 

“Please.” Eden panted, “P-Please.” 

Jason chuckled, shortly locking eyes with Harry. Harry played with her nipple, squeezing her throat as Jason slipped his fingers into the front of her bikini bottoms. Eden squeaked when he touched her. Jason dipped his head, surprising Harry with a sudden kiss. Harry choked Eden harder, eyes fluttering as Jason kissed him while fingering Eden. Eden’s eyes watered when Jason tapped into her g-spot, finding her so slick after Harry worked her up all the way.

It only took about a minute for her to reach her peak, spasming in Harry’s arms. The kiss between Harry and Jason broke as Harry rutted his hips into Eden’s ass, feeling as she arched and shivered in the aftermath of her orgasm.

He wanted to laugh when Jason gently shushed her, slipping his fingers from her pussy. Harry wondered how many fingers he used, if he pushed Eden to the brink. If it were him, he would’ve edged her a few times and overstimulated her until she was crying. Eden blinked a few times as the waves of pleasure subsided.

Jason looked rather pleased with himself, Eden’s legs locked around his waist. His fingers gently pulled her bikini top back in place, one of Harry’s hands still cupping one of her breasts as he kept her pulled back by her throat.

Harry moaned, forcing Eden’s head to turn as he pressed his lips on hers.

Eden froze, immediately pulling back in shock. Harry chased her, pressing another small kiss to her plump bottom lip but Eden gasped and violently moved out of his grip. Jason seemed surprised at her rejection and Harry frowned, “W-” His hands slipped from Eden as she seemingly panicked, staring at him with wide eyes and a heaving chest. 

Jason flicked his eyes between the two in confusion and Harry stared at Eden, who stared at him in shock.

“Eden?” Harry checked and she straightened up, fixing her bikini as she shook her head, “I-I can’t do this.” She hurried out of the pool, leaving puddles of water behind her as she disappeared inside of the house, leaving both men in the pool.

***

Eden was pacing around Harry’s bedroom. She had no idea why this is the place she chose to have her panic attack, but somehow it comforted her. She saw the bed she spent most of the past summer in, curled around his body.

Her lips still tingled. Not from her orgasm, but from that fucking kiss. She hadn’t expected him to kiss her. Somehow it felt far more intimate than him grinding his dick against her skin or him touching her tits. It felt… delicate. Vulnerable. And it brought back feelings that Eden had tried to get over.

The warm air inside the house had caused her bikini to dry and Eden yanked one of Harry’s shirts out of his closet to put it on and cover herself up a bit. She had a lump in her throat. Eden softly dropped down on the duvet of Harry’s bed, rolling around on her side until her fingers felt the sheets. She was catapulted back to waking up in here with him snoring into her neck. It had all felt so domestic.

She sniffled once until she heard footsteps, and Eden straightened up. She had expected it to be Jason, but Harry appeared in the doorway. He also covered up with a shirt and his hair was drying curly after being in the pool.

He had a frown on his forehead, “Are you okay? Did I hurt you? Or did he?” He asked in a slight panic.

Eden wiped underneath her eyes and Harry’s heart cracked, taking in her broken state. Eden rolled her lips inside her mouth, almost to keep herself from breaking down further, “I’m okay.” She rasped.

“You don’t look okay.”

She almost huffed, sniffling, “I-I just don’t wanna go through with it anymore. I wanna go home.”

Harry nibbled his lip, leaning against the doorpost, “Are… Are you sure?” He checked.

Eden got up her feet, “Yeah.” She breathed, “Sorry, you don’t get to fuck me today.” Her voice took a bitter turn as she was ready to strut past him, but Harry grabbed her arm with a frown on his face, “You think that’s what this was about?”

“What else was it about?” Eden shrugged, her voice sounding scratchy. She shrugged her arm out of his grip, “You’re horny, said you’ve been missing me and the way we used to be. And what we used to be, were two people fucking around the clock. You’re not that hard to figure out, Harry. You just wanted to get in my pants.”

“I did miss you.” He exhaled, “For far more than sex. You have to know that.”

“How could I know that?!” Eden couldn’t stop herself as she angrily shoved against his shoulders. Even though Harry hardly budged, his brows raised in surprise when tears streamed down Eden’s cheeks, “You kissed me! You fucking kissed me.”

He opened his mouth to speak but she shook her head, bottom lip wobbling, “You broke my heart.” Her voice cracked and Harry’s stomach dropped. Eden shuddered a bit, shoulders dropping as she stood wobbly in his familiar bedroom, “You ghosted me.” She muttered, “Do you have any idea how painful that was? A-And now you just… you wanna pretend nothing ever happened?”

“You agreed.” Harry’s tone was soft and Eden huffed, “Yes, because I thought I was over you.”

Harry licked his lip, “Are you not?” He took a step closer to Eden and she took one back as she sniffled, “Well, I’m crying in your bedroom, wearing your shirt after you kissed me. So no, I’m not. Which is very fucking painful considering you’ve been over me this entire time.”

“I’m not over you.” Harry frowned, “Not by a fucking long shot. I-I’ve been thinking of you all year. I didn’t expect you to show up with a boyfriend. That broke my heart.”

“You broke me first.” She bitterly spoke, “I don’t believe a word you say. You didn’t make any effort into making the long distance thing work.”

Harry ran a hand through his hair, “I thought I was doing you a favor.”

Eden stared at him and Harry casted his eyes down, “Honestly.” He murmured, “I-I didn’t want you to be hung up on me. I felt like we had no future, that we had nothing in common. You wouldn’t move here, I wouldn’t move there… I’m so much older than you. It was a summer thing a-and I felt like I had to let you go.”

He perhaps thought his words would soften Eden up, but if anything her face just darkened. He hadn’t expected the second shove against his chest, stumbling back one step this time.

“You coward.” Eden scoffed as more tears leaked from her eyes. Harry pressed his lips together and Eden shook her head in disbelief, “Y-You don’t get to just decide that for me. I don’t need you to do me any fucking favors. And besides, ghosting me was best for me?! Didn’t even have the fucking decency to have a conversation. I’m a human with feelings and I deserved more. Just because you’re a fucking child doesn’t mean you can treat me like I am too.”

“Hey.” Harry frowned and Eden raised her brows, “What? Anything to say? Seriously, that’s the most pathetic excuse I’ve ever heard. Doing me a favor? You hurt me! I asked you time and time again to visit me in London, you always declined. And not once did you ask me to visit you here.”

Harry frowned deeper, “I-I’m - I mean, you could’ve just come over!”

“And show up unannounced?” Eden challenged. She pointed her finger at him sharply, “You single-handedly decided to end something that involved the two of us. I had no say.”

Harry stared at the floor again, her words of pain seeping into his bones. And he knew she was right. He closed his eyes for a brief second, “You’re right. And I’m sorry. I-I went about it the wrong way, but please know that I cared about you so much. I had just as many feelings as you did. We fooled ourselves into thinking it was a summer-thing.”

Eden crossed her arms in front of her chest as she lowered her gaze. It was silent between them. The amount of information Eden just received, confused her greatly. For all these months, she’d had no answers. And now she did, and it somehow didn’t feel half as satisfying as she hoped it would.

“Why did you suggest this threesome?” Eden softly asked.

Harry moved around, sitting down on the edge of the bed eventually. His fingers fiddled together, “Because I wanted to be close to you. I know you’re devoted to him. And you’re right, he is nice. I still don’t think he’s what you need, but he’s nice, like he’s a good guy.” Harry sincerely spoke, “I just missed you so much, and I craved you. Physically, yes, but also more than that. Just… spending time with you. Making you smile.” He stupidly shrugged before sighing out again, “I felt like it was the only way. I told myself it’d hurt me less to see you with him, than to not see you at all.”

Eden stared at him in disbelief and Harry licked his top lip, “Which wasn’t true. I’m so fucking jealous and he’s so lucky, Eden. And I promise I’ll leave you alone from now on if he makes you happy. I let you go.”

“You did.”

Harry swallowed, “I know.”

Eden weighed her words before flicking her eyes up, “I expected more from you.” She softly spoke, the lump in her throat very present. Harry’s shoulders dropped a tad at her words and Eden wiped underneath her eye again, “Doing anything long-distance requires work and effort, Harry. Just because we didn’t see each other every single day and we had responsibilities, didn’t mean I didn’t still have feelings for you. It… It felt like a break-up.”

Harry felt the pressure behind his eyes and dared flicking his eyes up to Eden, forcing his lips to stop wobbling, “I was in love with you.”

“Stop.” She whispered and he shook his head, chuckling bitterly, “No, really. Like I tried to stop it. But I felt so empty when you left, like nothing made sense anymore. I looked for you in everyone, told myself it’d get better. But it didn’t. I’ve been fucking miserable.” He reached for his phone, “Here.” He turned his screen, “See how whipped you’ve gotten me?”

Eden frowned as she took his phone, seeing the open tab on his internet-app which showed apartments in London. Her throat ran dry, “What is this?”

“Was looking to buy a place in London.” He mumbled, “So I could be close to you.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yep.” Harry popped the ‘p’. “It’s quite pathetic.”

Eden stared at him, “I-I don’t know what to say.” She rasped.

Harry was even too embarrassed to look at her. They stood in silence for a bit until Eden turned around and walked off. Harry’s shoulders lowered as he let out a shaky breath, “Shit.” He cursed in defeat, dropping back down on his bed.

By the time he found the courage to get up, he glanced out his window to see Eden’s house quiet and unlit. He felt a punch to his stomach when he noticed the car being gone.

It was dark by the time he was alerted by headlights and the sound of tires on the gravel road. Sadie and Lola lifted their heads too, tails wagging as Harry peeled himself off of the leather couch. He had been sitting in silence this time, brooding. Heartbroken. It felt truly done with Eden now and it was like his heartbreak came around in full force at the realization. He had cried, he had showered, he had cleaned up outside after having Jason and Eden over.

He didn’t know when Jason left. All he knew was when Eden left them both in the pool, both of them decided to give her some time first. They had sat outside in silence until Harry announced that he was going to look for her. Jason didn’t stop him.

Harry was on his way to look out the window and see if maybe Eden and Jason had returned, but stopped when the bell rang.

He hurried to the front door, breathless once he opened it up. Eden stood in front of him, almost as nervous as she had been over a week prior when he saw her again after all this time.

“Hey.” Harry rasped.

Eden exhaled a shaky breath, “I - uh… I drove Jason to the airport. We broke up.”

Harry’s brows raised, “Oh?”

“Yeah.” Eden nibbled her lip, hesitation flashing over her features, “Can I… I mean, have you had dinner? I-I’m starving and I was wondering if… if maybe you wanted to eat together.”

Harry could hardly believe what he was hearing. He cleared his throat, legs wobbling a bit, “Y-Yeah, sure. Uh - here? I have stuff in the fridge. We can whip something up.”

Eden carefully entered the house, not as confidently as she did at other times. Harry watched her like a hawk and when Eden had greeted the dogs and they were in the kitchen together, he could no longer keep it in, “What happened?”

Eden didn’t seem very surprised at his question, “We… We talked. I came home, he was already there. I told him what happened, what we talked about.” She popped herself up on the counter as she took a breath, and Harry leaned against the fridge opposite her.

“He said he figured it out.” She shrugged, “That there was still something going on between us. He… He wished me well, we hugged goodbye.” It hurt her to say it. Jason was just so nice. And she treated him so poorly. Even Harry felt for him, but he hadn’t really expected any less. Jason basically worshiped Eden. He just wanted her to be happy, much like Harry.

“I had to tell him, it just wasn’t fair. Wasn’t fair to be with him when I’m not over you.” She murmured. 

Harry’s chest warmed but he hardly dared to be hopeful. He swallowed, “I’m not over you either.”

Eden watched the swing in her legs, her thoughts clouded. She glanced up at him, “Do you mean that?” 

Harry nodded before her question was even out, “Yes, completely. And I know I was an asshole about it, there’s no excuse. But I wanna be better.” He licked his lip, “Seeing you again… it brought everything back. And I don’t wanna let you go a second time.”

Eden’s stomach clenched, “Y-You don’t?”

“I don’t.” He repeated, flicking up his gaze, “And if you still want me… I wanna prove it to you.”

Eden felt only a bit stupid. Was she falling for his games again? Was this entire thing doomed? Was it all just words with no action?

Harry could see the wheels in her head spinning and approached her, placing his hands on the countertop next to her thighs, “Eden,” He breathed, “I’m serious. Honestly. You’re like…” He swallowed thickly, “my favorite person. I missed you so fucking much.”

Her skin grew hot as Eden blinked at him, in disbelief of his words. He was so close. Harry’s eyes widened in surprise when Eden gently leaned in, their lips just brushing together. Her eyes fluttered shut at the gentle touch, thighs tensing as the air between them grew hot and thick.

Harry relaxed, leaning into Eden further as the kiss deepened. Her fingers found the sides of his button-up, tugging him into her further as she tilted her head to the side to allow him more access. Harry groaned from the back of his throat, cupping Eden’s cheeks. Her knees parted for him and a shudder ran down Harry’s spine when her tongue softly flicked against his bottom lip.

“Shit.” He moaned, stroking his thumbs over her cheekbones, “Yeah?” He nodded the question, flicking his eyes between both of hers, as if asking for confirmation that they were really doing this. That they were really giving it a shot, seriously this time.

Eden bit her lip and nodded, “Yes.” 

Harry crashed their lips together, all inhibitions gone. Sadie and Lola curiously watched them from the couch as they made out. It was all tongues and whimpers and teeth as Eden pulled him so close it almost hurt. Harry easily picked her up, and it was like a déjà-vu when he blindly carried Eden up the stairs. They had done this so many times. 

Her kisses grew hungrier, hands tangled in his brown locks as Harry kicked the bedroom door shut and they both dropped on the bed. Eden hastily ripped Harry’s shirt off of his shoulders, tanned skin bulged around his muscles as he held himself up and Eden stroked her fingers over his biceps, taking him in.

Emotion flashed through Harry’s eyes as he laid between Eden’s parted thighs and they resumed their heavy kissing. He licked into her mouth, the plush of her lips brushing against his as he claimed her again. Eden kicked off her shoes and raked her blunt nails down his back, making him arch into her. 

Eden locked her leg around his hip, flipping them over and Harry gladly let her. His back met the sheets as she scooted up on his lap, sitting on top of him. She yanked off the top she was wearing, revealing the dark green bikini underneath.

Harry’s eyes dropped to her chest, his fingers playing over her ribs and up to the triangles covering her up. He brushed his thumbs over where he knew her nipples were and reached his hand around her back, tugging on the knot to get the bikini off. 

Harry could hardly contain himself when Eden sat topless on top of him, gently rocking her hips into his hard cock while catching her breath. She leaned down to kiss his muscular chest, her hands exploring him as she scooted herself down.

Harry’s eyes fluttered as he stared up at the ceiling, preparing himself to feel her lips and attempt to not cum down her throat. Eden gave the best blowjobs he had ever received. She was so filthy with it, not a care in the world as spit dribbled down her chin and she always allowed him to fuck her throat.

She could take him so deep he’d feel her nose against his tummy and she allowed him to cut off her airway until she was on the brink of passing out. Eden loved the pain. Her mouth watered when she sunk down the edge of the bed, Harry’s legs dangling over it. Eden hastily tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before tugging down Harry’s shorts. He panted out, “A-Are you sure?” Please say yes.

“Yes.” Eden confirmed, “Wanna taste you.”

Harry lazily smirked, humming as Eden’s hands closed around his throbbing cock. She used both to stroke him, and he didn’t have to look at her to know she had a sick grin on her face at the precum blurting at his tip. He was hard as a rock, pulsing against her palm. Eden took her time in studying him, realizing he was just as she remembered. Just as big, thick and veiny as she remembered.

“I missed your dick so much.” She admitted, “So, so much.”

“Take it.” Harry rasped, and Eden did. Her lips folded around his tip to give a hard suck that nearly had him coming right there. “Fuck.” He gasped, nails digging into the sheets as Eden hummed at his taste.

She was impatient, sinking her mouth down on him and enveloping him while her tongue flicked in every direction. She held him in her throat, willing away her gags as her hand pumped the part she couldn’t fit just yet. She hummed, clenching her thighs together. Eden loved giving head. Especially to Harry.

“Fuck, così buono, così buono.” Harry breathlessly moaned, “Dio mio.”

Eden moaned around him at his Italian cursing and her hand played with his balls as she bobbed up and down. Harry saw stars behind his closed eyelids, jaw dropping with strangled groans. He hadn’t been stimulated like this in so fucking long. No one was her.

His eyes rolled back when Eden suckled his tip again, and Harry’s hips bucked up as his toes curled. She knew just how to work him. “S-Shit - Eden…” He lowly groaned. Eden took a hold of his ankles, urging Harry to put his feet up on the bed as she stayed kneeled.

His heart violently hammered at what he thought she was about to do. And when Eden popped off and angled his cock up, Harry felt like he was in fucking heaven, “Baby,” He whimpered, “oh my god - please… p-please.” He begged pathetically and Eden hummed, “It’s okay.” Her voice sounded hoarse from the blowjob and she kissed the back of his thigh before working her tongue between his cheeks.

Harry threw his head back as he gripped his solid cock, stroking himself. Eden used her free hands to spread him and give herself more space to eat him out. Her tongue lapped over his rim, relaxing him. 

“Y-You’re perfect.” Harry squeaked, pinching his eyes shut at the heavenly stimulation. Only Eden did this for him. 

When Eden felt like Harry was close to his edge, she retrieved her touches, licking around her mouth for the excess saliva as he caught his breath. Eden wobbled on her legs when she hastily pulled down the skirt she wore, bikini bottoms webbing to her pussy due to her wetness. 

She was fully naked, jumping back on the bed with Harry who immediately rolled them on their sides. It was all quick and hasty as their tongues tangled and he grabbed her thigh, rolling on top of her with her legs locked around his hips. 

“Can I?” He panted breahtlessly, “Please? Fuck - baby, I need to be inside you.”

“Uh-huh.” Eden moaned, “I’m s-so ready.”

“Haven’t prepped you.” Harry kissed her jaw and Eden felt nearly delirious with need, “No need.” She breathed, “J-Just fuck me.”

Harry didn’t let her off that easy though. He hummed softly into her neck, planting gentle kisses over her skin as his hand moved between her legs. A low moan bubbled up his throat when he felt how wet she was. The mound of her pussy, the apex of her thighs, covered in her slick arousal. Her clit pulsed and Eden tried to keep the tears away, feeling so overwhelmed and sensitive.

Harry raised his head and let one of his hands slip behind her neck to hold her up a bit, “Want you to look at me,” He breathed, “when I slip inside you.”

Eden managed to nod, holding her breath. Harry pumped himself once, “Condom?” He briefly asked. He knew him and Eden never used one in the past. Eden was infertile and they only slept with one another.

She swallowed at his question, “Y-You can choose.” She rasped, “I always used one with him. We never did it bare. I’m clean.” Her words surprised him. She never did it bare with Jason? Eden had no chance of a pregnancy, so Harry wondered if she never really had that connection to Jason as she did with him.

But her letting him choose was also sort of the ultimate challenge for Harry. It was almost asking him if he was really serious about this, if they were really gonna go there. Harry quickly kissed her, “Okay. No condom.”

Eden smiled lightly, “No condom.” She whispered. The smile was quickly wiped off her face when Harry dragged the tip of his cock through her sodden folds.

Eden’s lips parted desperately as she exhaled in a shaky breath, “Yes,” She squeaked, “oh god - please.”

“Yeah?” Harry cooed, “Y’need me? Open your legs.”

Eden tried to split her thighs wider and Harry shot her a stern look, “Wider.”

She whined softly, allowing him more space. It was hard to think when Harry’s cockhead continued to brush into her pearled clit. Eden felt like she was about to fucking explode.

“That’s it.” Harry praised, “That’s so good. There we go. My little slut with her legs wide open for me, hm? La mia sporca puttana.”

Eden sputtered out a high-pitched moan when Harry’s tip popped between her walls. She was so hot and creamy, welcoming him greedily as he inched forward to fill her pussy. Eden clenched her jaw in pure satisfaction, eyes rolling back and a moan stuck in her throat.

Harry couldn’t help but smirk at her ruined state, but his breathing turned shorter too the closer he got to filling her to the hilt. He grunted when his thighs touched hers, nestled so fucking deep inside her as her walls clamped around him.

Eden forgot what it felt like to feel so… full. In the best way. So full and fulfilled. Her hands locked around his shoulders in a death-grip as she puffed out sharp breaths, blinking a few times to remind herself where she was.

Harry reared back halfway before sinking back in and Eden gasped, “Oh - Harry.”

“Fuck, I know.” His voice sounded shaky, breathing against Eden’s lips, “I know, baby… Feels so good. So good.”

“Uh-huh.” Eden whimpered, “M-Missed you like this.”

He pressed a kiss to her chin, “Me too, baby. Me too. I missed you so much.” He sharply thrusted, tip of his dick stroking right against Eden’s g-spot. She gasped shakily at the feeling, a tear leaking down her temple, “Shit - you’re gonna make me cum so fast.”

Harry smirked, “Yeah?” He thrusted again, gently squeezing the nape of her neck, “Are you gonna get wet all over me?”

Eden desperately clawed at his shoulders, “Y-Yes.” She whispered, “Oh my god, fuck.” 

Harry dropped his head in the crook of her neck, speeding up a bit. With Eden’s thighs around his hips, he took her in deep missionary. The bed rocked, their moans filling the room as Eden’s orgasm surprised her completely. She cried out, spasming underneath Harry’s body but he didn’t let up, sharply slapping the outside of her thigh as he only screwed into her harder to get her further gone.

Eden mewled, on the brink of pain and pleasure as always with Harry. He was so big, stretching her so wide. But he knew her limits almost better than she knew them herself. Eden would never stop begging for more even if she couldn’t handle it. Harry momentarily pulled out to stave off his own orgasm, allowing Eden time to come down as he kissed his way down her body.

Her thighs trembled, her pussy wet and puffy as he used his thumbs to spread her folds and anchored her legs over his shoulders to eat her out. Eden grabbed the pillow so hard she worried she’d break her nails as she arched and gasped, the feeling of Harry’s tongue on her simply unmatched.

“Yes…” She slurred, “Oh fuck, yes.” She bucked her hips back into him, Harry’s tongue sinfully slipping in and out of her before locking around her clit to give quick, sharp sucks until Eden near shoved his head away in overstimulation. 

“Can you take more?” Harry wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he crawled back over her, dick rock hard still. Eden blinked at him as she swallowed, nodding, “Mhm. Use me. Use me - please.”

It sounded like music to Harry’s ears. He growled from the back of his throat, tossing Eden around until she was on top of him. Not that she needed to get any ideas - Harry was in charge. He positioned her how he saw fit, splitting her thighs around his hips as he forced her to hold her hands behind her back and his free hand held her up by the chin.

“Look at you…” He crooned, gathering spit behind his teeth before giving Eden a warning look. Her eyes fluttered as she let out a pathetic whimper, lips opening no further than an inch as Harry spat in her mouth, part of his saliva dripping down her lips. 

“Dirty slut.” He whispered, using his thumb to spread his spit around before slapping her cheek. Eden moaned at the sting, shuddering on top of him as she desperately tried to get him inside of her again. Eden’s cheek turned red and Harry felt more turned on than he could ever remember to be. 

Harry grinded up against Eden’s wet pussy, smirking at the way her eyes rolled back at the small stimulation. She looked so ruined, but he loved it. And it was proof of how much she trusted him.

“You want my cock?” Harry crooned, “So desperate for it, aren’t you? You’d just let me do anything…” He gave her wrists a warning squeeze to hold them together without his help and Eden did so as his hand travelled lower on her back. He gave one of her ass cheeks a sharp slap and she gasped, grinding back against him. Harry moaned softly, “You’d let me do anything, such a good cumslut, hm? Just want to be filled.”

“Yes.” Eden croaked out shakily and her eyes closed when Harry’s fingers brushed over her rim. Eden keened, arching into him. They had done anal in the past and Eden absolutely loved it. The stretch felt unmatched and it could just get her so far gone. She loved the daze that came with it.

“Want me to fuck you here?” Harry whispered, heart pounding at the thought of slipping inside Eden’s tightest entrance. She mewled as he put pressure on the tight ring of muscles, teasing to push in a finger. Eden managed to nod, “Y-Yes.”

The thought aroused Harry, his dick twitching, “Later, hm?  Wanna fill up your cunt first. Bet your little pussy missed my cum.” He messily kissed her, licking over her lip before he slapped her ass again, urging Eden to lift up so she could sink down on him. 

“Wanna watch it drip.” Harry’s brain spun as he murmured all his filthy thoughts to Eden, who whimpered when she heard him. Her shoulders tensed as he took all control even with Eden on top of him. Harry immobilized her, holding a hand on her ass with a firm grip to have her move up and down on his cock.

He licked up the side of Eden’s neck, “And lick it back up. Y’look so pretty when you’re all creamy for me, baby.”

Eden lulled out a moan as she squirted, making Harry’s eyes pinch shut at the feeling of her gushing over him. “Fuck.” He exhaled, “Hm, just like that.” He continued thrusting up in a lazy pace, “There’s my good girl… Getting me all wet because I’m fucking you too good.”

It all felt like one big orgasm to Eden. Harry’s cock was made for her, filling her up so perfectly. He knew just how to handle her. His slaps were well-timed to keep her on the brink of pain, which only intensified the pleasure. His dirty talk was unmatched, his choking and spitting was just the right amount to turn Eden insane. She had never been this aroused in her life and she couldn’t believe she had been missing this for a year. No one ever came close to how well Harry knew her body like the back of his hand.

“Never gonna let you leave again.” Harry slurred as his orgasm neared, feeling Eden clench around his cock as he whispered the message in her ear. She was hunched over him, panting into his neck as he held her on top of him, fucking up into her wet pussy.

He slapped her ass again before his hand grabbed her chin, forcing her to kiss him, “Promise me you’ll stay.” He moaned.

Eden could hardly hear him, her body convulsing in so much pleasure. Harry spat in her open mind and gave her cheek another slap, something Eden greatly welcomed. Tears streamed down her face in pure delight when Harry manhandled her like this. “I promise.” She whimpered.

It was all Harry really needed to hear to fill her up. His hips jerked, his teeth sinking down into his bottom lip. Eden always loved listening to him when he was turned on. He moaned a melody of her name mixed with Italian curse words, grabbing her body so tightly he could break a few of her bones if he wanted. She let him, cock jolting up inside of her as he sharply thrusted with each spurt of come leaving him and painting her insides. 

It was primal, dirty and not even nearly enough. But it was for now.

Harry doted over her afterwards, Eden too out of it to really say much. He cared for her, cuddled her and kissed her as he massaged her sore shoulders and rubbed lotion over any scratch or bite marks he left behind. Eden laid curled up in his fluffy sheets as Harry gently cleaned them both up.

Eden didn’t say anything as she curled into his body, exhaling a comforted sigh when Harry wrapped her up. Her voice came back about thirty minutes later, once she had taken a little nap.

“Wow.” She whispered.

Harry chuckled, playing with her hair as he stared up at the ceiling. Eden’s head rested on his shoulder and he turned his head to kiss her forehead, “Hm, you’re back.”

“I am.” Eden yawned, “Jesus…” She stretched out her sore legs, “that was intense.”

“How do you feel?” Harry checked, cuddling her a bit closer for warmth. Eden kept her eyes closed, “Good. ‘M thirsty and hungry.”

The night was still young, and it proved to be so when round two happened in the kitchen. As they had some focaccia in the oven, Harry bent her over the countertop. With the dogs outside for the evening freshness, Harry fucked her. It was softer but she came twice more, the position so good for Eden as she arched out her back and pressed her chest into the cold countertop. 

Round three was in the shower afterwards, when Eden lowered herself to her knees to suck him off again. Her body was too tired and sore for more, but she was desperate to have Harry coming again. And he did, filling up her mouth and most of his release painted over her face. 

Eden overstimulated him, her fingers disappearing between his ass cheeks as she took him all the way in her throat in aftercare. Tears leaked down Harry’s face as he lost his balance in the shower, every muscle in his body shivering and trembling. It always turned him a bit emotional to realize how much pleasure Eden wanted him to have. Pushing her own discomfort aside to have him coming as hard as possible.

They cuddled in bed after that, and Eden couldn’t keep her eyes off of him as Harry fought his own body - refusing to go to sleep. His eyes constantly turned droopy but he forced himself to stay awake.

And when Harry jolted awake the next morning to a cold bed, he was immediately panicked.

Did Eden regret it? Did she sneak off? Was she gone? Did he dream it all?

Her bikini on the bedroom floor proved that it had all happened, and Harry jumped in a pair of boxers as he ran downstairs. 

“Shit.” He breathed, clutching his own chest when he stood in the kitchen, overlooking his garden. Eden was in a pair of his boxers and a button-up, holding a fresh cup of coffee as she played with the dogs. Sadie and Lola excitedly circled around her legs and fetched her the ball Eden continued to throw. He could hear her giggle all the way inside.

Harry felt ten years younger, watching Eden. She brightened up his life so much. His feet carried him out in the warm morning, grass crispy from the heat underneath his feet.

“Good morning.” Harry whispered, standing behind Eden and wrapping his arms around her from behind. She smiled when looking over her shoulder, and they met in a sideways kiss, “Good morning.” She smiled.

Harry gave her body a squeeze as he nuzzled his nose below her ear, “Thought you snuck off on me.”

“Really?” Eden teased, turning around in his grip. Harry grabbed her ass, pulling her up a bit to kiss her decently as he hummed, “Yeah. Got me scared.”

Eden ran a hand through his hair, hearts in her eyes when she stared at him, “Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Except back to the UK next week.” Harry murmured. Eden’s smile dropped a bit. Harry took the coffee from her hand to have a sip himself before he cleared his throat, “Hey - I should really look for a house rather than an apartment, shouldn’t I?” He mused out loud, “I kind of hadn’t thought of the dogs. But they’d hate being locked up all day. I definitely need a garden.”

Eden’s heartbeat quickened as she nibbled her lip, “Like… What do you mean?” She carefully asked.

“In London.” Harry pecked her top lip, “For when I move there.”

Eden exhaled a sharp breath, staring at him in wonder, “You were serious about that?” She softly asked.

Harry gave her ass a squeeze, “Of course.” He finished up her coffee and put it down on the windowsill behind him, “I’m serious about you. About us. I can sell this place easily. Maybe look for a little vacation home somewhere else. Somewhere… not next to your dad and Colleen.” He joked.

“But… But you love this house.” Eden murmured.

Harry shot her a grin, making her slightly yelp as he picked her up underneath her thighs, “I love you. Fuck the house. I can buy another one. Doesn’t matter where I am as long as I’m with you.” The romantic words felt foreign to Harry, but they came naturally. He had never been this infatuated with another person before. No one could ever make him move in the past.

Eden giggled in disbelief, “You…” She stared down at him before leaning in and taking Harry in a deep kiss. He moaned into her mouth and Eden panted out, nuzzling her nose with him, “I-I love you too, but I want you to think about this.”

“I don’t have to.” Harry shook his head, slowly carrying Eden back inside as he continued carrying her, “The last year of my life has been so fucking lonely, Eden. Like I said, I don’t care where I am as long as I’m with you.”

Eden’s body erupted with butterflies and her cheeks hurt from smiling so wide. Last night had felt like a fever dream. Her legs still felt sore from the amount of orgasms Harry pulled from her body, but it was so much more than that. It was never just sex.

“London’s quite cold.” She breathed teasingly and Harry smirked, squeezing her thighs, “I suppose you’ll have to keep me warm.”

//

THE END OFFICIALLY

[finelinevogue]

hot summer nights

summary - a warm summers evening with your one and only

word count - >1k

Summer had finally arrived. In Autumn.

August had rolled into September and everyone was preparing for wet weather, thunderstorms and miserable grey clouds.

So it was a surprise to everyone when the sun decided to come out and the temperatures decided to shoot up to the high 20s in the first week of September.

And good weather meant only one thing in the UK; beer garden.

You and Harry were currently getting ready to go, having texted the group chat of your closest friends for you to all meet at ‘The Rose Inn’ at 6PM.

Harry had decided to have a shower, dragging you in behind him even though you really didn’t need one. He just couldn’t keep you away from him for too long.

After you, too long, shower, Harry started looking for an outfit whilst you dried your hair.

Harry offered to finish drying the rest off for you whilst you started on your makeup, knowing how much you hate being late. Your makeup would’ve been done faster if Harry hadn’t been stood behind you with just a towel around his waist.

The both of you cleaned up very nicely.

Harry was wearing some beige linen trousers, a white t-shirt and a baby blue cardigan, whilst you wore a gorgeous baby pink dress that had a floral pattern on. Both of you looked summer ready.

“Babe! Let’s go!” You shouted to Harry, who was nowhere to be seen since about half an hour ago.

You pulled your pink Stompers, yes you call them Stompers, out of the shoe cupboard and slip them on, knowing that Harry will already be wearing his and you can match.

You go to the mirror in the hallway and readjust your hair that’s slipping out of place already.

This stupid heat.

You walked into the kitchen to grab some snacks in case you got hungry, before returning to the hallway.

“H?” You called out again. “C’mon let’s go!”

You looked at your phone and noticed you were already running ten minutes late. If you were another ten minutes late then you might as well not go.

The sound of the back door shutting caught you off guard and you suddenly understood where he had been.

You heard the sound of jingles before you saw anything. You crouched down on the floor in preparation for your Cavapoo to bound up to you and give you lots of kisses.

“Hello!” You said in your dog voice as Fred rounded the corner. Fred, Freddie, Frederick - whatever you wanted to call him - was your two year old Cavapoo that Harry had bought you to keep you company when he was on tour.

“Hello there my gorgeous little baby.” You entertained Fred as you heard Harry walk through the kitchen towards you.

When he emerged, you felt your breath hitch a little.

He looked so good.

You had seen him half an hour ago and he still looked the same, but damn did he look good. There was something about him today that made you just want to stick to him like a koala bear would a tree. He looked so soft and… yours.

“What?” He asked, looking down at where you were looking up at him.

“Nothing, just… admiring you.”

“Okay, alright.” He smiled with a heavy blush, “Let’s go before I turn red.”

“You already are red.”

“Shut up and move your cute arse.” He giggled, pulling his sunglasses over his eyes.

Harry attached Fred’s lead onto his harness and handing you over the leash, as the two of you made your way outside.

The pub wasn’t that far away from you two, so walking was the easiest option for getting there. Of course, you do live in the countryside so you have to hurdle some styles and dodge some cows, but the country walks are always your favourite.

The air is fresh and clean and the world feels a little bit more yours out here. You’re in control and Harry is too. You can decide your own choices.

Then again, you are only a twenty minute drive into London if you want to be.

Fred enjoyed the walk as much as you did. Harry walked alongside you, walking on the outside of the pavement when he needed to and he held your hand the entire time. Even when you were both getting a little clammy from the heat, he just moved to holding one finger of yours instead.

“Mrs Brown came over this morning, did I tell you?” Harry said, as you were a few minutes away from approaching the pub.

“What? When I went shopping?” You asked, being forced to stop by Fred who was sniffing for something amongst the grass.

“Yeah. She offered to bake us some strawberry tarts for your birthday party. I said yes, obviously.”

“We’re going to have so many desserts, H.” You laughed.

“Yeah, but mums bringing pizzas and pasta salads remember? And I think Gem is making some sort of vegan Greek dish. We’ll be fine.”

Harry kissed your forehead to keep you from stressing, before shouting to Fred to hurry up.

“Can you make your treacle pudding too?” You asked shyly.

“Just for you, though.” Harry nodded.

“Just for me.” You hummed in delight. “Ah, it’s going to be a good birthday.”

“Our fifth one of yours together.”

“Really? I’ve put up with you for that long? Wow.” You teased.

Harry tugged on your hand for you to stop, pretending to scoff and then pulling you against his chest tightly so you couldn’t escape. He kissed you then and there, on the side of the road, like you both had no tomorrow. One hand around your waist and the other still attached to your hand.

Both of you melted into one another and neither pulled away first. You both had to move, though, when Fred started getting restless and excited over his parents together.

“Never stop doing that.” You smiled up at him with stars in your eyes.

“What?” He smiled back.

“Surprising me. Kissing me.” You pecked his lips again for a short moment. “Loving me.”

“It’s not even possible to think about.” Harry meant it as he kissed you again, softly.

The summer breeze chose this moment to blow and it made your hair blow like crazy. Your dress blew with it and you noticed Harry’s cardigan flap open a little too. It looked like some shot out of a perfume photoshoot.

Harry helped you straighten out your dress and reorganise your hair, before kissing you again.

[celeritymoves]

Hire Professional Movers for Your Next Move: Save Yourself from Heavy Lifting

Hiring professional movers for your next relocation has numerous advantages, but the main one might be the ability to relocate without stress. Professional movers are very skilled and knowledgeable on how to move properly. Movers London UK will assist you in moving, packing, and settling into your new house as quickly as they can.

[me-loving-woso]

Your Hot Neighbor

Prompt: You just moved to Manchester because of your job and you meet your neighbour. 

OR: 5 times you see your neighbor, 1 time you actually talk to her (or at least, she talks to you)

Prompt 9 (Miscellaneous) :"Abort mission, I repeat abort mission.” “What? Abort what mission? All you were doing was introducing yourself to your neighbor?” “Yeah, and they’re too attractive. I can never speak to them again.”

You recently moved to Manchester after being in London for your entire life. You were a civic lawyer who had just landed her dream job in Manchester as a partner for one of the biggest companies in the whole UK, Smith & Wesson. You were ecstatic, to say the least. Even though you had to move four hours away from your home, you were looking forward to starting the next step of your life. The fact that your best friend lived there was an advantage; now you could finally spend time with her instead of having endless hours of video calls and unlimited texts with each other.  

They called you ‘the fox’; you seldomly worked with other people, but you would demolish your opponents on the court because of your wittiness and aggressiveness. You established yourself quickly in the world of law. Everybody wanted to work with you because of how professional and available you were to everybody. 

Everybody who knew you and went to see one of your cases would tease you because you would become different when you had to represent your client. You were aggressive, never smiled, and always very serious, which was the complete opposite of what you were in real life. You were shy, funny, and a little bit of a people-pleaser, but you would never acknowledge it. 

As soon as you arrive at your new apartment in Manchester, you plop on your new sofa and have a nap. You hated driving, and after a four-hour long drive alone with your dog, you were barely standing up from the tiredness. 

The house was chosen by the company you were working for. You didn’t want anything big, as you knew you would be living there alone, but you specifically asked for a garden to let out your dog when you couldn’t take her for a walk. The company was more than willing to give you anything you wanted with the hope that ‘The Fox’ would bring new clients to them. The house was attached to another house, so you would probably at least have a neighbor. Your balcony and garden were shared; only a railing would divide your terrace, while a bush wall divided your garden.

Your dog was a year-old German Shepherd; her name was Leika. Your four-year-old niece gave her that name when she was still a puppy, and you called her that ever since. 

As you were already sleeping for an hour, you heard a knock on the door. You slowly move from the couch, scratching your eyes, going to the door. As you open it and recognize who the person is, you immediately throw your arms at her. You finally saw your best friend after months.

“Oh my god, I’m so happy to see you, Ellie!” You say as you finally break the hug.

“It has been too long; how have you been, Nick Wilde?” 

“Don’t call me that.” You chuckle. 

She began calling you that after you started working for your first job as a lawyer, you went out together for drinks when she still lived in London. You told her that people called you The Fox. She replied, asking if you were like the fox in Zootopia, and from then on, she would occasionally call you Nick Wilde, mainly when you were being irrational, trying to be funny, or just when you embarrassed yourself. 

She entered the house, and as soon as she walked in, Leika ran to her and asked for cuddles. She kneeled down and began petting the dog. 

“Oh my god! She is so beautiful. I already love her so much!” She awed, never looking away from the dog.

“Okay, that’s enough. I don’t want you to steal away my dog.” I chuckled as I sat down once again on the couch. 

For the rest of the night, you stayed in your living room catching up on each other’s life. Leika was peacefully sleeping near your feet. You were already at your second bottle of wine opened when you saw a car parked near your house. 

“Were you expecting somebody?” Ellie asked.

“Nah, I think it’s just my new neighbor.” 

You both stand up and look out the window, trying to be sneaky, peaking at who your new neighbor would be. You couldn’t see much from outside, only from her car's lights and the street. She was wearing some sort of tracksuit, with her handbag around her shoulders. It looked like she just came back from a run. Her hair was up in a messy bun, and you could see only part of her face, but as she turned around, you had to blink twice.

“Damn, she is beautiful,” Ellie says. She found the keys to her house and entered inside. 

You turned around, returning to your couch, mumbling, “She really is.”

After a while, Ellie decided not to return to her place to sleep as she was already very tipsy. She took the couch, having Leika at her feet, while you went upstairs to your room. Tomorrow would be your first day at your new job.

-

The second time you see her, you are taking Leika for a walk. You stop at a Coffee shop nearby your house for some coffee, yes, you are British, and yes, you prefer coffee to tea. As soon as you get your coffee, you exit the shop and head home; as you are walking, you see a woman running towards you with a Manchester United shirt on. She was your neighbor. With the daylight, you look at her, trying not to seem creepy, and  she seems even more beautiful than the other night. The sunlight perfectly hit her face, revealing all her freckles and amber eyes. You couldn’t function properly; she was hot, appeared to be athletic, and on top of that, had freckles. You were fucked. 

As she moved past you, you gave her a last look and then went home.

-

The third time you saw her, it was a Saturday morning. You just finished one of your most tedious cases since you came here to Manchester, so all you wanted to do was relax in your house with Leika and maybe watch some tv, or, if you were really up to something social, go out for a coffee with Ellie.

 It was 2 pm, and you were just finishing changing your bed sheets when you heard Spanish music playing outside. Unable to mind your business, you look out the window from your bedroom to see where the music came from. What you didn’t expect was your neighbor in soccer shorts and a sports bra working out and doing abs exercises. 

“So she really is fit,” you think to yourself. You didn’t want to look creepy, so you continued your day, trying to ignore your very hot neighbor once again.

-

You are in your house with Leika and Ellie, the fourth time you see her. It was a scorching day in April, so when you heard that you finally had a free day, you invited Ellie to sunbathe outside with you. About an hour passed when you heard reggaeton music from your neighbor’s house. Ellie suddenly looks at you, giving you a puzzled look. 

“It’s just my neighbor working out.” You explain.

“The really hot neighbor?”

“I only have one neighbor, so yes, I suppose.” 

“Just admit it; you like her.”

“How can I like her if I didn’t even talk to her.”

“You still haven’t introduced yourself?” 

“Nope.”

“Well then, find an excuse and do it.”

“What excuse?”

“Umm, you could say Leika lost a toy in the bushes, and you wondered if it got stuck in her garden.” She suggests.

“You will not stop until I introduce myself to her, right?”

“We are very insightful today, aren’t we, Nick Wilde?” Ellie says sarcastically.

“Stop calling me that.”

“Then introduce yourself to her; the worst that could happen is that she is mean and sends you away.”

“Thank you for the encouragement.” You stand up from your sun lounger and put on a shirt and some shorts. You slowly pet Leika as if she would transmit some braveness, and you walk to her house. 

You couldn’t recognize yourself. You were a great lawyer who wasn’t afraid of being confident and skillful, but you couldn't help but feel nervous right now. 

You inhaled and exhaled the air quickly, preparing yourself. You were about to ring the doorbell when you saw her. She was opening a small bottle of water and drinking it, then she poured it all over her head, and you could see the tiny droplets of water slowly going down her body. You were so entranced by her movements that you nearly forgot why you were there. 

So you focused again on your mission and were about to make your presence known when she let down her hair from her ponytail and combed her hair while moving her head from side to side. She looked as if she were in slow motion. Nope. You couldn’t do this; you wouldn’t embarrass yourself in front of her. So you speed walked to your house and were soon met with Ellie’s waiting eyes.

"Abort mission, I repeat, abort mission.” You walk into your garden, sitting down on your sun lounger.

 “What? Abort what mission? All you were doing was introducing yourself to your neighbor?” Ellie replies, looking confused, following you.

 “Yeah, and they’re too attractive. I can never speak to them again.” You put your sunglasses on and continue to sunbathe like nothing happened. Ellie was still confused. At the same time, Leika looked at you, asking herself what just happened to her owner; Ellie just sighed and chuckled, following your lead and lying down too.

-

The fifth time you see her, you see her friend first.

When your boss came inside, you were in your office, “So there’s a new client. Someone recommended you to her, and she wanted you as her lawyer. This is a high-profile case; she is a professional footballer and needs the maximum discretion. I know you don’t need a reminder, but I must insist you do your best in this case.” Your boss advises you.

“I will do my best, Mr. Wesson, I don’t think I ever had celebrities as my clients, but I will treat her like any other client.”

“I know you will, y/n; you are one of our best lawyers. As for celebrities as clients, from my experience, you have to treat them as any other client; they might be more dramatic and a tad bit egocentric, but deep down, they are normal people.”

“So, who’s my new client?”

“Her name is Alessia Russo. She has been having problems with her property.” Your boss hands you the case. “I’ll send her in right now.”

You didn’t know much about football; when you were younger, you would watch some games with your dad, but when you moved out to college, you stopped caring about the sport. 

As soon as she entered the room, your first thought was, “Damn, she is tall.” You stand up from your desk and give out your hand so she can shake it. “Good morning, my name is Y/n Y/ln, but you can call me Y/n. You must be Ms. Russo.” She shakes your hand, “Please call me Alessia; you make me sound like I’m old.” You both chuckle. 

“Sure! Alessia. Please sit down. I couldn’t review your case, as I got it thirty seconds before you entered. Please tell me your issue, and I’ll assure you I will try my best to fix it.” You gave her an assuring smile, and she began talking.

Over the following weeks, you worked very closely with each other, trying to win the case. Sometimes, she would try to make small talk with you, to get to know you better, but you would always reply with short answers. This case could open many job opportunities for you, and you didn’t want to mess it up and be unprofessional, even though you were just going to be friendly. 

One day she came late for one of your meetings with her,

“Sorry, I know I’m late, but our coach made us do an extra hour of training, and I forgot the time.” She apologizes.

“No worries, yours was my last meeting for the day, so you are good. I heard you have the derby in a few days, so you must prepare.” You add.

“Oh my god, finally, my lawyer is giving in to small talk?! Who are you, and what have you done with my her?” She jokes.

“Oh. Sorry.” You say shyly, bringing up again your 'The Fox' persona. “I didn’t mean to act unprofessional.”

“And now she is back.” She chuckled exasperatedly. “You know, I don’t care if we talk about other stuff besides property, right?” 

“What about this, if we win the case AND I’m in the mood for it. We can go out for drinks.” You concede. Even though you tried to be professional and a lit aloof, her clumsy and outgoing demeanor reminded you of Ellie and how the two of you would get along together. 

After a week, when you won the case, Alessia hugged you and gave you a gift.

“I don’t know if you like football, but if you are free, I brought you two tickets for the derby tomorrow.” She says happily.

“I couldn’t possibly accept.” You gave them back.

“Come on.”

“Okay, only because my best friend is obsessed with Manchester United.”

So that is how you went to the stadium to see the derby. You and Ellie were in a great spot; Alessia found great sits for you. 

As you saw the girls running up to the field, you recognize her.

“Is that-“ Ellie questions

“Yep, that’s my neighbor.” You were shocked. Now you finally understood why she was very fit and why you saw her with a Manchester United jersey.

“How could I have not recognized her before?” Ellie wandered.

“Maybe you didn’t see her properly, it was dark outside, and you were very tipsy.”

“I was not.”

“Yes, you were.”

“Well, at least I know who Ona Batlle is.”

“Is that her name?”

“Yes. She’s Spanish.”

“Ohhhh.”

“Did you still not introduce yourself to her?”

“Nope.”

“Are you going to?”

“Nope.”

As you continue to see the game, finally, Alessia got subbed in. You point at her. “That’s my client, right there.”

“Your client is Alessia Russo?”

“Yep.” 

Your best friend was deadpanned. “You definitely need to introduce me to her. She’s like my favorite player.” 

“And not to mention, she is also your type. Am I wrong?” You remark knowingly.

“Don’t use your voodoo lawyer tricks on me, Nick Wilde.”

“Excuse me?! I would never.” You say faking being offended. 

She rolls her eyes at you while you give her a dumb smile then you both continue to focus on the game.

At the end of the gave you put yourself near the stands to say hi to her.

“Hey, Alessia, nice goal out there!” You say, making her turn her head towards you.

“My favorite lawyer.” She ran to you happily.

“This is Ellie, my best friend.” 

“The one obsessed with Manchester United?” She says, looking at your best friend.

“Yep, that’s me. I’m Ellie.” She says, giggling, trying to contain her excitement. 

Alessia was handing out her hand so that she could shake it. Still, Ellie was too caught up in meeting her favorite player that she didn’t even realize, so you gently nudged her arm so she could focus. 

“Oops, sorry.” She giggles and shakes her hand. 

In the meantime, Ella Toone was approaching the stands.

“You must be y/n, the best lawyer in the world.” She says, looking at you. 

“Don’t give me too much credit.” You say humbly, slightly blushing.

“Nope, she is. They call her The Fox for a reason.” Ellie backs you up. You blush even more; Alessia is shocked at your change in personality from when you were in court to how you are usually.

“I don’t think I would ever see the day my lawyer would blush at a compliment.” Alessia chuckles.

“Okay, stop it.” You say, turning your eyes to another figure by the stands; she put an arm on Alessia’s shoulders as she went to the changing rooms. Ona was walking by, and you made eye contact for a moment. This time was Ellie’s turn to nudge you.

“Yeah, sorry, what were you saying?” Focusing on your former client.

“If I remember correctly, you owe me a drink.”

“Tomorrow I have work, so I can’t tonight. But maybe tomorrow night?”

“I’m good with that. I’ll bring a couple of friends. Is it okay with you?”

“Only if I can come!” Ellie interjects.

“Oh, definitely,” Alessia says. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow then.” You say, waving at her while dragging Ellie to the exit.

- 

When you exited the stadium, you went to Ellie’s house and dropped her off, finally going home after a long day. You didn’t expect your neighbor to sit on the steps of your door. You looked at her confused; she saw you and then stood up. 

“Hi.” She said awkwardly. You gave her a small wave, incapable of pronouncing words. “So, you are probably asking yourself why I am here.” She says with a very strong Spanish accent. 

“You are my neighbor.” You say, deadpanning a little too quickly, genuinely hoping you didn’t sound too harsh.

“Yes, I am. I’m Ona.” She says, giving you a small smile, reaching out with her hand. Your mind was short-circuiting; you internally hoped that from the outside, it wouldn’t seem like it. Spoiler alert, it seemed like it, but Ona was too nice to say something.

“Oh yeah! My name is Y/n Y/ln. But you can call me y/n.” You took her hand and shook it a little too eagerly. 

In the future, you will definitely cringe thinking about this first encounter.

“I don’t think you just sat on my stairs just to introduce yourself to me, right?”

“Nope.” She says as she shyly rubs the back of her neck. “I forgot the keys to my house today, and I hoped you could let me use your balcony to let myself in.” She says, pleading. 

You hesitated a minute, trying to get your mind around the fact that the woman next to you, whom you had a slight crush, and whom you were too scared and embarrassed to talk to, just asked you to come into your own house to get into hers. 

“Or I could totally ask the landlord for a spare key. A stranger asking you to get inside your house might make you feel uncomfortable right now. I’m really sorry for asking.” She rambled, getting her stuff from the floor, wanting to leave, slightly embarrassed. 

She is cute when she rambles, you think. “Wait. Come inside; let me help you. We are neighbors, after all.” You gave her a shy smile.

“Thank you, you literally saved my life!”

“That’s a tad bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

“Nope.” She stood behind you as you opened the door. 

“I hope you like dogs because you will definitely see one, no-.” You don’t have the time to finish the sentence that Leika ran towards you and Ona to get her cuddles. You put your bag down and kneeled to pet her. Then you stood up and let Ona in.

“Can I pet her?” She asked shyly.

“Of course, you can. This is Leika, my dog.”

She took off her bag and sat on the floor while Leika jumped on her and started kissing her. Ona just laughed and began petting her.

 Her laugh was so cute and heartwarming, you never wanted to stop hearing her giggles, and you didn’t even want to get started on her voice. She had this deep voice that she asked something, you would just comply with her, and she could make you do-. You definitely had to get your out of the gutter immediately. 

You blinked once, shaking away your thoughts, while you put your bag on your desk chair.

“Busy with work?” She asks, looking at the pile of papers on your desk. “Yeah. I’m a lawyer, so I usually get many piles of paper daily.” You chuckle nervously.

“Wait. You are y/n? Lessi’s lawyer?” 

“I can’t either confirm or deny.” 

“You were the girl talking to her after today's match, weren’t you?” She says, recognizing you.

“Yes, it was me.” 

“So it is you then!” She says happily.

“Maybe…” You say, giving her a small smile. “You played well today, Ona; you definitely carried the team.” 

She blushes a little. “It’s really a team effort.”

“Yeah, but you definitely shined more than other players. Don’t tell Alessia that I said that.” You chuckled nervously.

“I won’t. But as I said before it-“

“It was a team effort.” You roll your eyes jokingly. “Just take the compliment, Ona.”

“Okay, only if you take my compliment.” She says shyly, slowly rocking herself from one leg to the other, “You looked cute when you tried to deny you are Lessi’s lawyer.” You were taken aback by her words. You definitely weren’t expecting that. Try to act cool. 

“I-, “you stutter. 

“I’ll take yours if you take mine.” She smiles innocently, kneeling back down to Leika and petting her.

“ I- thank you?” You blush, “I’m not really used to taking compliments.” You chuckle.

“You’re welcome.” She smiles. “So, where’s the balcony?” 

“Oh yeah, right.” You nearly forgot why she was in your house in the first place. You bring her upstairs. 

She would have to pass through your bedroom, and you hated that. A, because you just met her, and B, you couldn’t help wondering if the room was tidy or messy.

“I’ve recently moved in, so it might be messy there.”

“Don’t worry. I get it. I thought lawyers would be tidy and organized, but I guess everyone makes mistakes.” She teases.

“Ha ha, very funny. I feel very offended right now.” You joke.

“Oh, poor you; how will I make it up to you now?” She smirked. 

“Oh, I know some ways you can.” You mumble lowly. 

“What did you say?”

“Uhm, nothing!” You say, snapping out of your thoughts. 

She definitely heard you. You definitely are still in denial about that.

You open the door to your room, and you let her in; you don’t let her have time to wander with her eyes into your bedroom and bring her outside. You were both out now; she threw her bag into her balcony.

“Let me help you; I don’t want a dead person in my conscience.” You grinned, holding out your arms for her. 

“Oh, I get it, you wanna be, what you English people say, my knight in shining armor?” She smirked once again. 

You slightly blush, “You know what, legally, I can say you are an intruder, so go on without me, I won’t help you, nor will I be your knight in shining armor, as we English people say.” You remark, trying to mock her accent.

“Hey, I don’t speak like that!” She gently smacks your shoulder.

“Yes, you do.” Mimicking once again her accent, lowering your voice, then you chuckle. 

She sighs, frustrated, and then she looks where she has to climb over and then at the ground outside. You see her hesitation, and you jump into action. 

“Just let me help you.” You plead, once again offering your hands to her. This time she takes them without blinking twice. Her hands were so soft, but you could feel the hesitation as she wouldn’t move. 

“Are you scared of heights?” You ask. 

“What?” She replies, still looking at the ground. 

“Are you scared of heights, Ona?” You gently tighten the hold on her hands, trying to ground her. 

“Nope, I am not!”

“Okay, say that while looking at me and keeping a straight face.” You chuckled.

“Okay.” She gave up. And for the first time in a while, she looked at you, “I may be slightly scared of heights, happy?”

“Definitely. Let’s do this. Why don’t you stay here while I open the balcony door for you?” You reassured her. 

“Can you take the house keys for me? They are on the nightstand near the bed.” 

“Okay,” You reply. You climb over the railing; as you are about to put your feet on her balcony, you act like you tripped. She gasped. Trying to reach for your hand. While you just laugh at her concern. 

“You asshole.” She smacks your hand. “I hate you.”

“How can you hate me? We just met.” You say dumbly, reaching for the door and opening it. 

As you open the door to her room, you look at it, then go back and look at her, “So you gave me shit about me being messy while you are the one talking.” You say, shaking your head in awe.

“I recently moved in?” Using the same excuse that I said before.

“Nah, our landlord told me you’ve been here way longer than me.” You laugh. “Just admit it.”

“Okay, I’m a little messy.” She sighs, “I’ve been really busy lately, and I haven’t been able to clean up; I’m sor-“

“I was just messing with you.” Cutting off her ramble. “You look very cute when you ramble, though.” She blushes and then shakes her head. 

“So, the keys?” She giggled. 

“Oh yes, right!” 

You come out of her room and hand her the keys for her railing.

“Now, can you please help me return to my house?” You smile. 

“Yeah, sure.” She offers her hands to you and slowly pushes you towards her.

“Wait!” You scream, losing your balance and falling to the floor of your balcony on top of her. You stay there for a moment, flabbergasted, and then you quickly get up to your feet. “I’m really sorry! Did I hurt you?” You ask her, helping her up. 

“You are asking me that? I nearly got you killed; I’m so sorry!” 

“Hey, I’m good, see?” You show her, making weird movements with your arms, making her laugh. “Plus, you did a pretty good job muffling the fall.” Winking. 

She hesitates for a moment and then quickly hugs you. “Thank you, really.” You hold her a little tighter, “You are a lifesaver.” 

She shyly takes two steps from you, “So I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

“Well, I don’t know. Are you planning on blasting your reggaeton music?”

“Probably.” She grins. “But I meant if you were coming to have a drink with us with Lessi.”

“She invited you too?” You ask her, and she nods. “Then I’m definitely not coming.” You joke, smiling to show her. 

“I’ll see you there then.” She starts to walk away. 

“I’ll count the minutes.” You tease. 

“Asshole” She screams as she exits your house.

Bonus

You were back to work the next day but still didn’t tell Ellie that you had finally talked to Ona. You knew you had to say to her before going out for drinks with Alessia and her friends. So when you picked her up during the evening to go to the bar where you would meet the others, you told her,

“So, about yesterday.” You begin.

“Oh my god, yes! It was so cool meeting Ella Toone and Alessia Russo! God, I am actually going out for drinks with them! I am so excited!” 

“Yeah, I wasn’t going to say that, but yes, also that.”

“Oh, sorry, got a little excited for a moment. Please tell me what you were trying to say.”

Suddenly, you don’t know why; your nerves caught up to you, and you can’t pronounce the words; luckily, you just got to the bar.

“I-I. We are here.” You say, releasing your seat belt and exciting the car.

You get inside the bar and are soon greeted by Alessia, who runs up to you to hug you. “I genuinely thought you would bail on me.” She laughs.

“I thought about it.” You joke. “But Ellie here really wanted to come.” You tease your best friend. 

“Okay, Nick Wilde, don’t get too cocky now.”

You approach the table. Ella and Ona were already there. You and your neighbor smile when Ella asks, “Nick Wilde?”

“Yeah, I usually call her that when she’s trying to be funny or gets on my nerves. So always.” She grinned; you gasped and gave her a smack on the shoulder. You begin to talk to Ella, ignoring Ona; of course, you were doing it on purpose as you didn’t know if she wanted to talk to you after yesterday or if she was just being nice because she had to get in her house.

“Aren’t you going to say hi to your neighbor, y/n?” You slightly blush.

“Hey, Ona, did you remember your keys today?” You joke, making Ellie look at you strangely while Alessia and Ella look confused.

“Wait. Are you guys neighbors?”

“Yeah, we only actually met yesterday.” 

“Wow, what a small world,” Alessia says.

“Excuse me, but I have to go to the bathroom, y/n can you come with me?” Ellie says, dragging you away hurriedly to the bathroom. “Sure. I’ll be right back!” You say the last part to the girls.

You enter the bathroom, and your best friend quickly shuts the door with a waiting expression.

“You talked to her?”

“Yeah. Well, she talked to me?”

“Fucking finally!”

“It’s nothing; she locked herself inside the house and used my balcony to get in.” 

“So, did you talk or did more than that?” She smirked.

“Oh my god Ellie! I’ve just met her; get your mind out of the gutter.”

“So nothing happened?” 

“Nope. We just talked, and that’s it.”

“Okay.”

After a while, you leave the bathroom, and Ona tells the two English girls about yesterday night. They were all laughing, and you only heard, “So I tried to help her, but I just made her lose the balance, and she tripped and fell on top of me.” She laughs.

“Nothing happened, my ass,” Ellie whispers, sitting at the table.

“Y/n Y/ln parkour sensation, everyone.” Alessia jokes.

“You are the one talking, Alessia. Do I have to remind you why I had to make another copy of all your case documents?” You grin wittingly.

“Ohhh. Nick Wilde has some character!” Ella replies.

“Not you too, with the nickname.” You sigh, holding your head in your hands. “I need a drink.” 

“Let me buy it for you.” Ona offers; you look at her dumbly.

“You don’t have to.” You shrug.

“I insist; you helped me out yesterday. I owe you one.”

“You won’t let it go, won’t you?” You both smile without taking your eyes off each other  

“Nope.”

“I’ll come with you then.” 

Your interaction didn’t go unnoticed by the table as they shared questioning looks while you headed to get drinks.

The night progressed really enjoyably. You and the girls got along very well, and you thought that you could actually be friends with them. Ellie was having a blast and, honestly, was a tad bit drunk. It was midnight when you decided it was best to get her home. 

“I think it's better if I take her home.” You say to the girls. You hug each one of them quickly, making the one with Ona extra uncomfortable, then you drag Ellie outside. 

You call a cab, and soon you leave the bar. Ellie was already asleep in the car. So when you get to her house, you slowly wake her up, and with your help, she is sleeping safely and soundly in her bedroom. You decide to walk home, which would take only five minutes. Ona’s car was already there, so you were glad she came back home safely. 

When you reach your door, you rummage through your pockets to find your keys, but you can’t. Fuck. You left them on your coffee table. 

So you decide to do what your neighbor did yesterday, hoping she would still be awake.

You knock twice at her door, really hoping that she will answer. After a few seconds, you see the light turned on in her living room, and she opens the door. She was already ready for bed, with no make-up, some shorts, and an oversized T-shirt on. 

“Don’t tell me that you forgot your keys.” She chuckled tiredly.

“I-I’m sorry. I think I left them on my coffee table. Can I get in through your balcony? Then I’ll get out of your way.”

“Of course, you can! As you said yesterday, we are neighbors after all, and friends?” She asked. 

The thing is that you didn’t want to be friends with her at all. You wanted more, but you knew you had to wait for that.

“Yep, friends!” You say a little too forcefully. She, fortunately, ignores your tone and lets you in.

The house is the same as yours, only the furniture is slightly different. 

You get into her balcony and carefully climb over it into your property; she just looks at you.

“Ha Ha.” You open the door leading to your bedroom and finally look at her.

“What?” You ask, a little embarrassed.

“We should stop losing our keys; what if you fall off that railing?”

“Oh, you care about me!” You tease.

“You are an asshole, Nick Wilde!” She grins, rolling her eyes.

“Only for you.” You wink suggestively. “And don’t call me that.”

“Asshole?”

“Nick Wilde.” She says. “I hate it.”

“Another reason to call you that, then.” She chuckles.

You wave at her as you are about to go to your bedroom when you hear.

“Wait! Y/n” She hesitates; you can see some doubt in her expression; you move next to her; she is leaning on the railing on your side. You move beside her, and she whispers, “May I kiss you?”

You definitely weren’t expecting her to say that. You couldn’t speak. 

“What happened? The cat got your tongue?” She chuckles nervously.

You just react by reaching out for her, touching her cheeks, and simply kissing her. Your first kiss with her was shy and tentative. But it was all that you hoped for, a confirmation that you weren’t delusional and that she liked you back for some strange reason. You couldn’t fuck this up.

You break away from the kiss and put your foreheads together while you gently stroke her cheek. You both smile at each other, and after a few instances, you break off the moment by talking.

“I am so glad that I came to your door tonight.” You laugh, still breathless.

She gives you a small peck, “I am glad too.”

You step back, defying all of your self-control to just jump to her side of the house, fully make out with her.

You gently wave at her, giving her one of your biggest smiles.

“Good night, neighbor.”

“Good night, Nick Wilde.”

[misskattylashes]

Okay inspired by @thetruthisfictional post about Milex patterns. I thought I would share some observations I have made in my autistic pattern seeking brain.

I am only looking at the post EYCTE period to the present day, and not everything is in chronological order.

Louise

Louise started to appear around the same time Miles decided to move back to the UK permanently. Rather than Alex split with Taylor, there are rumours of him cheating on her with Louise, creating a reason for him to want to leave LA. It is also a convenient narrative because Miles and Taylor were friends, so the reason that Miles and Alex can’t be seen together is because Miles doesn’t like Louise because of what she did to his friend Taylor.

Which means Alex can come home to London, without it looking obvious that he is following Miles.

Plothole – the reason for his return is so  Louise can split her time between London and Paris to pursue her ‘successful music career’. The truth has since emerged that Louise lives in Paris and Alex lives in London and Louise has no career to speak of.

Louise’s use of social media

A genuine social media account will post day to day happenings, even not every day. Shared songs, interesting meals, something work related. Louise’s posting only ever coincided with events happening around AM. Go and check her account sometime, see how much she posted around the summer of 2022 leading up to the release of The Car. Note also how she has posted every September 21 since 2021 which also coincides with the day she was officially announced in September 2018.

Songwriting

Since EYCTE Alex has not used one female pronoun in a romantic sense. Miles barely has either, nothing to the degree of the previous two albums.

Alex’s image

This is so carefully protected. Most recent photographs were taken several days or even weeks before. Alex is usually in his ‘costume’. One of the most questionable being the recent Eurostar ones. He was sitting there so obviously being ‘Alex Turner’ but the only people who recognise him are a couple of fans who happen to have professional equipment. I suspect there are all sorts of clever wizardry and facial recognition software going on in Meta that stops unfamiliar photos of Alex being published. Before you say ‘How can they do that?’ think about times you may have uploaded a song only for the sound to immediately disappear or you get a message with the list of territories it can’t be played in. This happens in seconds so the technology is there.

The train photos fitted a convenient narrative. Just after Alex was seen coming home from Paris, Louise is seen in the Caribbean with her family. We then get a recent of Alex in NY. Louise comes home from the Caribbean to Paris, but then makes sure to tell us she is going to NY, we then get the pap walk etc.

Why are we never allowed to see Alex walking along Bethnal Green High Street or in the pub with Miles? I think this is less to do with record company pressure and more to do with Alex wanting to keep his private life private.

Miles’ use of social media

Last year when AM were in the UK, I would notice that days Alex was on a break, we would hear nothing from Miles. You might get one official post about OMB that was clearly posted from his social media team. But stories would be empty.

Once Alex went to the US in late August, many a night we were treated to tipsy Miles chatting to the TV, or filming little Maxie getting up to mischief in the house. Soon as Alex came home it stopped.

Earlier this year Miles started the late night posting again and filming Maxie. Lo and behold a few days later we get pics of Alex in NY. Soon as he comes home, it stops again.

Another thing I have noticed. When Miles posts videos he always puts the photographer's name. But he occasionally only puts an 👀. These will always appear when Alex isn’t seen elsewhere.

There are probably many more but I will probably do a part 2.

[twopoppies]

On a recent London outing, Styles dressed down in black Under Armour shorts, tortoiseshell Jacques Marie Mage aviators, worn-in Adidas Sambas, and a JW Anderson crossbody bag that Vogue suggested could be a token of interpersonal goodwill, given Russell’s ambassadorship at Anderson’s Loewe. Interestingly, the musician also wore a maroon crewneck printed with the small serif-font logo of Cadogan Tate, a London fine art logistics firm that specializes in transporting valuable objects.

Eagle-eyed Styles fans quickly surmised that the sweatshirt, which is not publicly available for purchase, must be part of the firm’s staff kit. And while an art-handling company like Cadogan would typically assist dealers and auction houses, it seems Styles may too have had some valuables that needed moving.

In an email to GQ, a Cadogan Tate representative confirmed the musician’s maroon sweatshirt “is part of our team-member uniform program. Mr. Styles acquired the garment after a recent project that our team completed with him.”

The rep declined to comment further on the specifics of the project.

Harry Styles is a big art guy. He posed for David Hockney. He gallery hops. He’s been collecting since he was in his early 20s, when his personal holdings reportedly included a small museum’s worth of taxidermy, gun sculptures, and paintings such as an Andy Warhol–style print of Kate Moss. According to UK tabloid the Daily Star, he once tried to commission the covert British street artists Bambi and Banksy to paint frescoes in his home, but was thwarted by the fact that going to a famous singer’s house would have revealed their identities.

x

Given that Harry moved at least some of his belongs out of Erskine last year prior to the renovation that happened there, perhaps it was the art from that house that they helped him with. But, who knows? I’m here for art collector Harry wearing random merch, though.

[itsasainz]

the poison drips through | Roman Roy x Reader

Summary: grief is a natural instigator of reflection; Logan’s funeral forces you to look back on your own grief, and your relationship with Roman.

Word count: 7.3k

Warnings/tags: death of a parent (Logan Roy, reader’s mother), discussions of abuse (physical, emotional), grief and breakdown, mentions of addiction, depression and associated mental health struggles in a parent and in reader, implications of suicide, toxic and/or abusive familial relationships.

a/n: roman roy has a special place in my my heart. he’s awful, he’s product of his environment, I can’t justify his actions, I love him, it’s confusing, I don’t know. I binge watched all of succession in seven (7) days.

masterlist!

You’re not sure how old you were when you first met the Roys, but you find it strange to think of time pre-Roman, pre-Roy, when you were free of proxy-politics, hidden slights and subtle digs. You must have been a preteen, maybe twelve. It would make sense—the second summer after your father moved to New York, when he bought the house in the Hamptons. Your mother had stayed in London that summer, leaving you and your siblings to battle the sweltering Long Island heat alone with your father, who worked most of the summer anyway. Had it been the Sailing Club or the Golf Club where you’d first met Siobhan Roy? You aren’t sure, but you remember the bathroom where you’d run into her, and how a five minute conversation had turned into five weeks of friendship. It had gone beyond that five weeks—even when you got back to the UK, you’d found ways to keep in touch, and spent holidays together when you were in the same place; you’d grown accustomed to Kendall’s strange attempts at seeming “hip” and cool, and Roman’s whining and jokes.

Shiv had been, and is your friend—in many ways, your best friend—but you’d always had a sweet spot for Roman. It wasn’t until you moved to New York more permanently, right after you graduated, that you actually befriended him, your work at his father’s company at first forcing you into the odd work dinner or late night at the office, but routines were formed, at some point. Thursday lunches together, Monday morning coffees. At some point, he’d stopped seeming like Shiv’s whiney older brother, and become funny—most of the time. Roman, you had, at some point understood, took time. But most of your relationship with him came after Greece.

The first time you went on holiday with them—beyond the Hamptons or British countryside—you were twenty-three, and had found yourself on a ten-day trip through the Greek islands on Logan’s oversized yacht. It was that ten days that you realised that you were in, not particularly intentionally, but in nonetheless. You remembered everything about that trip; the private jet that took you to Thessaloniki, the starting point of the trip—you’d fly back to New York from Heraklion, with the entire family, who were coming from various outposts across the globe. To start with, though, it was just the two of you, walking on the scorched tarmac of Thessaloniki’s international airport, leaving the gleaming private jet behind, already feeling slick with set in the hot, midsummer air. You had appreciated the perks of a private jet that day—no queues, no crying babies or seats reclined into your knees—and didn’t have to think twice about where your luggage was, because everything had been taken care of by a team of people you barely saw, working like ants under the foliage. A refreshingly air conditioned car had brought you smoothly to the port, where a smaller boat, already stacked with your luggage, had taken you quickly to the gleaming palace on water that was the Roys’ yacht. The boat was like a small, disturbingly empty, city; an almost utopian place, gleaming and shimmering under the Mediterranean sun, a labyrinthe of rooms and decks and corridors. Despite the surplus of space, it was split between a select few; Logan Roy, of course, his four siblings and their own guests, a selection of board members and his third wife, who you’d met only once or twice before, Marcia. That day was languid, a steady flow of arrivals as the hours passed and the yacht sat just outside of the port, watched by the locals and tourists alike, most likely speculating about the owners of such a gratuitous yacht, carelessly waiting for all the world to see.

You and Shiv had been greeted by Connor, in his pre-Willa days, already in his forties though; Kendall had appeared at first without your notice, but the sound of his children, still babies then, had alerted you of his arrival, alongside his then-wife, Rava, who you still respected wholeheartedly. Roman had been next, harder to miss, making sure to “jokingly” insult everyone aboard within five minutes. You weren’t sure whether to feel flattered when it took him a minute or so to come up with an insult for you, but that train of thought was quickly lost to the arrival of the man himself; Logan Roy came with a fleet of people. He spoke about three words to you directly on that first day, but you supposed that wasn’t so bad—you were hardly novel to him anymore, given how your recent promotions had drastically increased your time spent with him and Kendall. Roman, however, was a different matter entirely.

You’d seen him around an awful lot, and spoken to him maybe twice, never for longer than a passing comment or introduction, though he knew of your friendship with his sister. And yet, here you were, on holiday with his family, and he was suddenly fascinated. Over those ten days, between your hours spent gossiping with Rava and his hours spent talking business with his brother and father, you somehow found time to get attached to the youngest son of the Roy dynasty.

Roman was a piece of a work, there was no denying it. He was insulting, defensive, childish, et cetera, et cetera, but he was often funny, too, and within days you had understood him well—he, like Kendall, Shiv and Connor, was driven by his father’s approval, but as is the way in any family, each of the siblings had manifested the same fears and motivations in different ways. Shiv’s fear of intimacy made for relationships with people who depended on her—for money or status—but who she could keep at an arm's length, and cast aside if they got too attached. Roman more openly craved connection, but his fears and traumas came to light in a more physical expression. The jokes at his expense had swiftly enlightened you to his troubled relationship with sex and affection, while, even this early on, Kendall’s addictions were beginning to form cracks in his determinedly “hip” façade. Most of these things you had already understood, but an extended amount of time on a vehicle that you can’t exactly leave had opened it all up to you—unlike the Hamptons, you couldn’t piss off to the other side of the island or back to the city, but only to the other side of the yacht, and even for a big yacht, it never allowed you to genuinely leave. The thoughts that would later become a strange, fucked up mantra began to formulate on that holiday; before you’d put it into words, or understood what you were asking yourself, the statement was swirling around your consciousness; the poison drips through.

Each of the Roy siblings was broken and damaged in a way you’d never seen before, but your long standing practice of people-reading and your love of untangling the dynamics within groups made the holiday a sort of project—by the end, you’d created a map in your head of the different events and people that made up the complex web of Roy troubles, built off the foundations laid by your friendship with Shiv and many brief interactions with her extensive family over the decade. It was an incomplete map—there would be things you didn’t discover until his death, a decade later, and things you would never know, but that initial map, fraction of what it would become, was the starting point for your relationship with Roman.

Your morbid fascination with the family, and apparent loyalty (though you only realised it years later) met with his intrigue with you. Shiv never brought friends on holiday, he disclosed on the third or fourth day—as such, everyone was trying to work you out, your game, your presence, beyond the limited stuff they already knew. But at the end of the trip, it wasn’t Shiv who you’d spent the most time with, but Roman.

You’d thought of it as a ten-day deep-dive into the family, one that wouldn’t be repeated and that would have few repercussions—for you, anyway, but something had been pushed into being on that yacht that would change the trajectory of your life.

Upon your return to the company, tanned and rested from your break, you found that your routine at work changed a little at first, and then a little more, and then completely. A week after the end of the holiday, Roman had barged into your office at around lunchtime, insulted a photo on your desk and dragged you out for an overpriced lunch to discuss work stuff—a legitimate offer, you later found out from Gerri, about an actual deal that he genuinely wanted to pick your brains about. The work-related talk had lasted maybe fifteen minutes before the two of you were side-tracked by something entirely inconsequential and spent the rest of the hour essentially gossiping. His coarseness surprised you a little, though it shouldn’t have, and you remember your initial reservations about his overt slights and hyperactivity—though nowadays you’ve grown to love both. The deal—the one he’d wanted to pick your brains about—had gone better than anticipated, partially, it was said, due to your counsel. So it became more regular—Thursday lunchtimes became your lunches with Roman, and he would stop by your office for discussions almost every day, uncharacteristically invested in his work, according to his siblings. You started to move up through the company too, taking on more responsibility, spending more time with the family, getting closer to the top.

At some point, you and Roman had become friends. You gravitated towards each other at galas and occasionally went for drinks after work on a Friday night. But, despite your time together, there was something odd about the dynamic—neither of you particularly spoke about your pasts, your childhoods. There was a certain shame you had about your upbringing—you knew it was entirely unfounded, that you’d been better off than the vast, vast majority, but then again, you spent most of your time with multibillionaires these days. Generally, you avoided discussions about family wealth, and guarded the inner-workings of your family, and all its troubles, in a way that is far more impossible for a family of the Roys’ calibre—you had your own secrets, a great many things you refused to discuss, and he knew that. In turn, Roman didn’t seem to want to delve into what it was like to grow up with the mighty Logan Roy as a father; so neither of you pushed it, and the subject of who you were pre-Roman began to fade; it would take a couple of years for it all to be disclosed, and even then, most of your big revelations about your relationship with him seemed to come in times of crisis.

You were friends. Work friends, really, but edging into the ground of the simpler terms; you were friends. You were, perhaps, his only one, or one of very few, and he was one of a fair few on your part, though he and Shiv were almost entirely separate from the company you kept outside of Waystar; you’d sometimes wondered what they’d think of the people you spent your Saturday nights with, or the clubs you frequented. But for years, he was your friend, and only your friend.

You’re not entirely sure when things began to get muddled, and lines began to blur. After one crisis or another, he had turned up at your door, late into the night, too tired and too upset to take the piss out of your apartment—a sure sign something was wrong—and ended up in your bed. You hadn’t slept together, but had spent the night beside one another, in hushed conversation or drifting into restless slumber. You’d woken up with his back to you, and it hadn’t been brought up again, not even when he turned up at your door a week later. Sleeping in the same bed as Roman became more common, though it was never sexual—it eased slowly from the simple need for company to admissions of wanting some form of affection—you would sometimes wake up to find that you had curled into one another, that in your unconscious states you had found an intimacy that was impossible in your waking lives.

And then, at some point, something had changed. You’d created a setting in which Roman could actually communicate—not without difficulty, but a space where he could say what he thought and attempt to move away from what he felt he should think. The emotional stuff took longer, but with those changes came a definite change in the nature of your relationship—namely, there was a newfound romance to it.

You’d held off the idea of a relationship with Roman for a long time—through all his joking, overly casual proposals, which you suspected were a way of him affirming some need for rejection, assuring himself that he was unlovable by presenting the ridiculous to have it shot down, as expected. But that had changed as he had, gradually, changed. As he became more open, more honest in that mesocosm of your apartment, developing a unique ecosystem of trust and loyalty and, you supposed, love, allowed him to become accessible to you in new ways.

Sex had taken longer. You were, to all intensive purposes, his girlfriend for a long while before you actually had sex. It was tentative, a slow process of breaking down barriers and rebuilding his relationship with a lot of things, in order to create a version of him that was capable of vulnerability. It’s still a work in progress. At some point (a nonchalant way of putting it—your milestones with him may have been muddled, but they were still deeply significant to you), the relationship had been opened for scrutiny at the hands of his family. You had, in some senses, created a healing process that they couldn’t comprehend, and you think that for that they will always resent you, but for the most part his siblings saw someone who made their brother a little happier and a little less skittish, and his father saw someone who could talk business and keep his son in check.

You didn’t know if there would ever be a wedding to commemorate it, and you doubted there would be children, but your ever-evolving relationship with him made you happy, and you knew it made him happy. Sometimes, you just wished that all that progress you’d made with him would translate to other aspects of his life, but such hopes never came to fruition—at the end of the day, he was still the young boy desperate for the approval of his hard-headed, abusive father.

It was that relationship with his father that made his relationship with his siblings so twisted. You and Shiv weren’t so close these days, but there was still amiable respect and remnants of that original loving friendship, but circumstance had torn rifts in the friendship of your teen- and twenty-something selves. In your thirties, that love had been somewhat lost, or changed—you’d probably always feel that friendly love for Shiv, the one responsible for this entire trajectory of your life.

Now, however, feels simultaneously like the best and worst time for a reflection on the ins and outs of your relationship with Roman Roy. Your bed is a mess, sheets tangled from Roman’s tossing and turning, his frame tense as he paces back and forth, pink flashcards clutched in his grasp. You’d helped him write them over the last few days, through the frustrations that he couldn’t get the words right or couldn’t express his true feelings.

It is only natural that on the morning of a funeral, you think of the funerals you have been to before. The one that stands out, the paradox, is the funeral that exposed your true upbringing to him; it wasn’t the wealth—Roman had hardly expected anything quite so extreme as his own family, but rather the people, your people, and how different they were from his.

You’d received the call late at night—UK and US time differences had gotten confused, your uncle thought you were five hours ahead, not behind—and had tried to gloss over the reason you were suddenly going back home for a week. Of course, in registering your time off with work—paid compassionate leave—he had discovered the truth, and insisted he accompany you. So Roman had met your family at a wake—not ideal, but it made sense. Your family, for all their flaws, had an open, friendly attitude; anyone was welcome in your home, and help was always offered where it could be, a notion so foreign to him that he’d never quite managed to grasp it.

Your family had been confused but welcoming of him; the context of your mother’s death was a strange setting to first impressions, but they liked him nevertheless. Your brother found his jokes more than a little amusing, and your little cousin seemed to think he’d hung the moon, which had more than baffled him—he’d never liked kids, even when they looked like you might have when you were little, even (perhaps especially) when they made him wonder about having children with you. That funeral had been a modest affair with a large turnout—most of the neighbourhood seemed to be there, but there was no fancy coffin or grand church; it was a small funeral, as your mother had wished, and as fitted the circumstances.

You remember a conversation with your sister a day or two later; sat in the garden, smoking, she had turned to you, posed that fatal question; What if the poison drips through? You had dismissed it initially, but at some point, probably after another depressive episode after, you had understood it. The poison drips through. But that was then, and this is now. This is not a modest funeral in your mother’s hometown, but a lavish one, in New York City.

No, this funeral is different.

Logan Roy’s funeral is not a neighbourhood affair, but an international one, and your Roman is doing the eulogy—hence the pacing and the flashcards. He is already dressed, and you are still in your pyjamas, but that is hardly the consideration—in this moment, you are simply concerned over whether or not Roman will make it through the eulogy; with every hour that passes, you become less convinced by his claim that he has “pre-grieved” his father’s death. If Roman breaks, the whole world will see it, abuse it, manipulate it; but everyone, Roy or not, should be able to grieve their parent’s death—no matter how awful they were—without judgement or manipulation.

He looks up from his cards— “You’re not dressed yet.”

“We have time.” you chide, but slip out of the tangle of bedsheets and turn the shower on. “Getting there on time is not going to be an issue.”

He dismisses you again, announcing the lines from his flashcards to himself as you shower, still going as you do your make up and dress, eat a little food—as much as you can stomach on a day like this, and make sure everything in terms of logistics will run smoothly, send a quick text to Shiv to make sure she’s coping—you’re sure none of them are—and eventually let Roman know it’s just about time to go.

His composure is already cracking by the time you get to the car. There is a sense of foreboding, and though you can’t bring yourself to iterate the thought, you have a distinct premonition that Roman’s eulogy will not happen as planned. You’re even wondering if he’ll sneak out before it’s his turn to speak, but you push the thought away. Roman would be okay, he always managed to scrape himself out of trouble, somehow.

The funeral is sombre, to no one’s surprise. You end up on the front pew, between Roman and Kendall, though you’re not entirely sure how. The service is long, as Roman Catholic funerals usually are, in your experience, and Roman will have to sit through the rest of it after his eulogy—whether it’s good that he’ll get it over with, or bad that he’ll have to sit with it for ages after is something you can’t decide on. You suppose that regardless of which point in the service he did the eulogy, he will always have to sit with his words.

And then it’s his part, and he doesn’t even manage the first sentence. You realise, the moment that he looks over to the coffin, that it’s over. You’re the first to get to him at the front, pulling the cards from his hands and letting him collapse into you, the cards getting taken by Kendall, the Roys all there to offer some form of support to their faltering sibling. His questions, his grief, are concerned with Logan’s body, lying and waiting in that coffin. It does, admittedly, seem unnatural that such a force could be contained in such a simple box. You feel almost like you are carrying him back to the pew, tucked under your arm, and welcoming him into your side, his body pressed into yours as though you are the only thing keeping him on earth, as if he would be gone without you. You let him cling, you make it to the end of the service without a further disruption, and then tell Shiv you’ll walk him back to the reception yourself, make sure he’s in a better state before you present him to the world once more. You sneak him out somehow, find a long route back that is not impacted by protests or by paparazzi.

The walk is slow, and he comes to himself little by little by the simple process of walking. He calms his breathing, starts to look about, register his surroundings and the events of the last few hours.

“Why’d you take us this route?” he asks. It’s not the quickest route, and it’s too strange a route to simply be about avoiding photos or crowds. He’s frowning, but you don’t seem embarrassed or confused by his line of questioning.

“My grandparents used to say that you should leave a funeral in small groups, and never all take the same route. It was some superstitious thing—like, if you all took the same route back then the soul of the dead would be able to follow you home, and they’d never leave.” You don’t say that you would hate for Logan’s soul to remain here, to follow him for the rest of his life.

He frowns at you. “I don’t think there’s much we can do to stop him from staying.”

You sigh. “You’re probably right.”

“I’ll never escape him, will I?”

“Roman, for the first time in your life you can step out of this sphere. You can look at the world without the oversight of that bastard, and you can pick a direction. You have the choice, the ability to choose for yourself without his consequence. If you want so badly to escape him, then you can. It’s in your grasp.”

He doesn’t respond, meandering toward your destination. Eventually, he formulates a response. “He’s gone, but the rest of them aren’t.”

You don’t push it—it’s for another day. Instead, you hold his hands in the street, and the pair of you head towards the reception.

He’s beside you for the majority of the evening, until you go to get a drink so that kendall can have a word—a bad idea, in retrospect—and you return to find him gone. Kendall shrugs you off, and no one else knows or cares where he’s gone. You call him a few times, wonder if he just needs some quiet, and then feel your instincts correct you; Roman has not gone for a moment of quiet, you know him better than that, and there is no guarantee he is safe or calm or well.

So you leave, try his phone a few more times, and some morbid curiosity leads you toward the sounds of the protestors. Perhaps it’s your gut, perhaps there is something that viscerally understands his masochism and self destruction. You know you’ll find him in that mob, at the mercy of the only people who will show him violence like his father used to. You feel sick with the thought, nauseous with the understanding of what he is doing to himself.

Sure enough, by the time you find him he has been beaten to a pulp, he is black and blue and bloody, damn near smiling with the pain despite being barely able to stand or walk, destroyed by a sadistic crowd. They do not know this man, you think, as you bundle him into a car, they do not understand grief if they can do this to a man who had freshly lost his father.

At your apartment, you sit him against the bathroom wall, on the floor, splatters of blood on his clothes, tainting the white tiles. He’s incoherent as you sort the first aid kit, and find a cloth to clean him up with. You work methodically, sure to keep him conscious in case of a concussion, as you clean and dress every part of broken skin, and treat his bruises with an ointment you find in the bottom of the kit, and strip him of his stained clothes, providing him with a change. You do not leave him alone, for fear of what might happen, and help him into some new clothes, sweaters and top, too casual for him to ever actually wear—you’d bought the joggers over a year ago and seen him wear them twice—before settling him into bed. You know enough about concussions to know you should wake him up frequently to check on him, but for now you let the tears come in waves. You’ve cleaned the physical wounds, and you hope that with every round of tears comes a cleanse, one that will make the wounds of his broken life easier to heal come the morning, as though the tears themselves will act to wash the grit from the graze, or to pick the shrapnel out from the marred flesh of this open wound.

You look around your apartment, out the window at the city below, and an idea strikes you—almost certainly a bad one, but you’re beyond the point of caring. “Rome,” you say, “You wanna go to Barbados?”

-

Caroline’s place in Barbados is lovely, if a little mosquito-ridden, and it feels oddly bonding to care for Roman together with his distant, almost neglectful mother. She loves him, that much is true, but it’s never enough.

You have thought more about your own mother in the last two weeks than in the last few years—not because you’d wanted to forget her, you saw her in everything—these thoughts were more active, like you were searching for the memories that might guide you in how to deal with this, or help Roman to cope. Your mother had been a different kind of a parent to Logan, and her issues had never been sought out—it was like no matter what she did, she would always have been claimed the same way, her life would always have made yours worse, despite anyone’s efforts to change that.

The poison drips through. That had been your sister’s line, and now Kendall’s. You’d experienced some of what your mother had first-hand, and it always made you wonder if everyone is destined to become their parents, to mirror their lives no matter how consciously they tried to avoid it; whether they resign themselves to it, or try so hard to avoid it that they do a full circle, returning to the likeness of their parents, everyone you’ve ever known is the product of their parents; it is biological, cultural, psychological.

It’s no surprise when Shiv arrives, ready to turn Roman to her side of the discussion about the board meeting. It’s late afternoon when you and Shiv find a moment—Roman has disappeared, and you sit on the paved surrounding to the pool, legs soaked up to your knees, weight leant back on your arms. The youngest Roy is somewhere behind you, to the right, probably on a deck chair.

“Do you think—and tell me to fuck off if you like—that maybe this whole deal is a good thing?”

You hear her sit up, and turn to look at her. She’s frowning at you, “How so?”

“I don’t know, ‘cause, like, you guys—all of you—have just been trapped in this sphere of Waystar and ATN and your dad, and all of you are just fucking miserable. What if you—what would be so bad about just getting out? You could free yourselves from all this bullshit, and there’s no Logan to pull you back in, so you could just… be. Just, y’know, learn a bit more about who you are outside of your father’s sphere of influence. Plus, like, Kendall’s gonna break, Roman already has, and you—all of you—are, frankly, pretty fucking fragile at the minute.”

She moves to come and sit next to you, slipping her feet into the pool beside yours. “You don’t understand.”

You shrug. “I’m sure I don’t.”

“We’re never, really, going to be free of it. Any of it.”

She shifts, her head resting on the bare skin of your shoulder, hair ticklish on your neck. You rest the side of your face on the crown of her head. “Maybe, maybe that’s true. But for the first time in your lives, the door’s open.”

The silence stretches out over the pool, filling the air, making you wonder what’s going on in her head. You sit like that for a while and at some point you realise she’s crying— not sobbing, not shaking with the force of it, but just sitting there, letting the tears stream; you don’t think she’s even really blinking, but the stillness remains, you don’t move. She needs this. You know about the scheduled meeting rooms for crying—Roman mentioned it—but this doesn’t feel like mourning. Not for her father, at least.

“Hey, fucknuts,” Roman calls, appearing at the edge of the courtyard, still barefoot in the shorts and top Caroline had gotten him when you first arrived. Shiv swiftly brushes the tears away, smiling up at him. He looks between you. “Ah, fuck—what… nevermind.”

Suddenly, you are plunging through the chlorinated water, lungs straining at the shock, hands splaying out through the cyan waters, in some momentarily suspended, bubbly universe, the tiled walls of the pool reflecting its pale, eggshell blue translucence onto your skin. You burst upward, drawing in a deep breath and flicking your hair from your face as your toes find the floor of the pool. “Argh, fuck you!”

Roman is laughing, Shiv in a similar state to you, and the moment feels distinctly child-like. You wade through the neck-deep water to the edge, and reach up to him to help you out, but he shakes his head. “Fuck that,” he chides, “I’m not that stupid.”

Shiv is laughing now, and you realise that you’re smiling despite yourself. “Rome, come on, at least help the pregnant lady.”

“Yeah, Rome, help the pregnant lady!” Shiv echoes, joining you at the edge and reaching for him. He knows what’s about to happen and submits himself to it regardless, letting her get a grip of his hands and be practically thrown over your heads, crashing sidelong into water. The splash and waves lap at your chin but you and Shiv are too busy laughing to notice; he struggles upright and rolls his eyes through his smile.

“Cunts.” he groans.

Shiv splashes him in the face with some water, and he swears again, splashing her back and catching you in the process. The ensuing water fight is short and chaotic, halted by Caroline’s arrival to tell you all to be quiet. Roman is laughing, the three of you paddling to the shallow end through some half-hearted apologies. Clambering out and grabbing some towels, you meander down to the seats and drinks table overlooking the seas, drying out your hair and letting conversation turn to business. This is where Kendall finds you, twenty minutes later, in a serious discussion about the board meeting.

The next few hours are a rollercoaster. Calls, discussions, debates, the classic Roy egoistical outlook on why each of them are better suited to the CEO position and why they have been groomed for it. Privately, as you meander in and out of their discussions, conscious that you’re not really involved in their family stuff at all, you settle on the idea that perhaps none of them are. Your feelings about the deal are one thing, meant to be separate from your feelings about them, but they intertwine now—the future of the company lies with them, and their capabilities, and their decisions. That’s not particularly your concern, you’ve been starting to manoeuvre your way out of your current position of influence, toying with the idea of leaving completely, selling your shares and heading elsewhere, but the idea of leaving them behind, leaving Roman behind, is too difficult to consider. What if you didn’t have to factor that in? What if you could walk away knowing it wasn’t them you were walking away from?

It’s this spiralling thought process that subdues you during dinner, ignoring Peter’s friend—James? John?—and knocking back continuous cocktails. Shiv frowns at you, “Trying to get hungover before the board meeting?”

You let out a half laugh. “If I drink a bit more tomorrow I won’t get the hangover.”

Kendall watches you for a second. “Clear minds tomorrow.”

You roll your eyes. Caroline glares at you all for ignoring the pitch you’re currently being presented with and you glance at Roman beside you. He’s anxious, he has been since the morning of the funeral, and you get the sense that he—body, mind and soul—is consuming himself, like he’s just destroying the fabric of himself from the inside out, so destroyed by his father’s death. The whole structure of his life, its fabric and its character, has been defined by his father’s presence and absence, and the man’s ability to maintain his presence even through his absence, but that presence, that famed presence, their “dear, dear world of a father” diminishes with every passing second.

Roman’s hand finds yours under the table, slightly clammy, taking you by surprise. His initiation is uncharacteristic. You give his hand a slight squeeze, and in response he laces his fingers into yours, a more substantial hold. Be here, he seems to ask. The world goes quiet—it’s just you, Roman, and your palms against one another under the table.

Like all things, the moment passes, the chaos returns. More phone calls, an equivocal end to the dinner, and you end up at the house, the Roys down at the beach. You lie at the end of Roman’s bed, feet still on the floor, staring at the ceiling fan; there could be any manner of discussions going on between the siblings at the sea, you could wake up to find they’ve drowned one another or something. Knocked each other out with a coconut or some shit. Roman, your Roman, and his grief, his deep felt love and guilt and terror, lost in the storm of this entire shitshow. You think of that day at Connor’s ranch when you saw the scars on Logan’s back, Ewan’s eulogy about his polio and self-blame, the mirror he made his children look in when they cried. Broken people make broken people. It’s easy to think of time as linear—past, present, future—but it’s more of a circle, you think. Infinite, never-ending, always repeating the same old mistakes. Kendall’s distant fathering, Logan’s abusive fathering—were they really so different?

The poison drips through.

It’s difficult to compare your childhood with the Roys’, but you remember those same thoughts, of a different nature—you’d been lucky enough to live in a world where things were talked about, and you had been able to process things as they happened, rather than let them bubble under the surface, but there had always been that idea. Your family history, the mental health troubles, ECT treatments and various crises in your family history, long before your time, and the effects that you had grown up with. You remember the first time you understood that your mother wasn’t quite right. You remember trying to get her out of bed to walk you to school and the realisation that she wasn’t really there, not in her mind, anyway. And in your teenage years, when you felt that yourself for the first time, you remember the terror of becoming her, of losing all feeling until you couldn’t get out of bed for days at a time.

When you took Roman to her funeral, you hadn’t told him how she’d died, too scared it would be weird or uncomfortable. He’d worked it out, and confronted you in the bathroom at the wake. Sat on the bath met, you had unleashed it all on him, and it had been one of the few genuine conversations you’d had with him in those first years. It had been a different kind of a struggle to his—it wasn’t actively inflicted by your parents, it wasn’t an intentional abuse like the kind he had experienced, but an enforced bystander effect—instead, you had had to stand at the sidelines as your mother collapsed in on herself, decaying before your eyes until you gave up and left. Half the world away, you had learned to understand those things, but now Roman had hints of it in him—he was barely even a bystander in his father’s death, but the grief and guilt were parallel.

This deal was his version of moving to NYC. An escape, an out.

You must drift off, because you open your eyes to the muffled chant; a meal fit for a king. Downstairs, you find them, concocting some awful smoothie, cackling like maniacs. As teenagers, it had been one of those games you’d played when their parents were away, seeing who could stomach the most awful of concoctions for trivial prizes and rewards—apparently this is similar, an initiation to a proper CEO position, on Kendall’s part. You make yourself known by handing Shiv a bottle of Tabasco, Kendall groaning and the other two cheering.

Caroline’s interruption only spurs it on, and by the time you’re heading back to bed, the smoothie having been dumped on Kendall’s head, a crown, you can barely stand you’re so tired.

Still vaguely unfamiliar, you wake up with Roman’s face pressed into your neck, his breath warm and ticklish on your skin, arm thrown over your waist and legs tangled together, a position that makes you think he really is comfortable with you, even if it’s taken a ridiculously long time to get here. You wonder if he can hear the air in your lungs or the blood in your arteries, or whether he notices the patter of your heart as you recognise this display of unconscious affection. Eventually, the rest of the building comes to life, and Roman wakes, moves from you with a sort of embarrassment, changing from his Walmart shirt into business attire. You wear the pantsuit you’d gotten with this board meeting in mind a while back, your office fashion being a slight point of pride—you weren’t the biggest fan of the drab stuff people usually wore, and liked to use interesting cuts and shapes to create range in the endless blouses and blazers and skirts and trousers of your work clothes. Subtle, but not boring.

Back in NYC, after a morning of calls and diplomacy and last minute bids for votes, you are greeted with a room full of people in expensive suits waiting and chattering anxiously as board members start to file in. You still don’t know how to vote, whether you’ll side with the siblings or not. Instead of stressing, you wrangle some gossip out of Stewy and do a shot in the bathroom. Zero hour.

With a pencil, you tally up each vote on a Post-It note stuck to the page of your notebook where you were planning to take notes, both Shiv, to your right, and Roman, to your left, glance at the tally every few seconds. You will be the last three votes.

When it reaches Roman’s turn, it is 6-4 toward the deal, he votes against and you are faced with a choice. If you vote for the deal, Shiv’s vote is purely nominal, and the deal will go through whether she likes it or not—you will be the decider; if you vote against, then it is an even 6-6 and she will cast the deciding vote. You look at the faces of each of the Roys, the children who have grown up to get to this moment. It feels ridiculous that it might be your choice. In the end, that is what makes you vote how you do—this is their livelihood more than it is yours, and you want Shiv to have the options in front of her—you can cope either way. So you vote against the deal—not for any loyalty to Kendall, but for one of your oldest friends, to give her some ounce of autonomy when you know that’s something that has been scarce in her life. Perhaps it's cruel to give her the choice between her brother and her husband, but, selfishly, you don’t want Roman to hate you.

“No, I vote against.” you eventually utter out, earning a triumphant nod from Kendall. Shiv glances at your tally, confirming the equal scores, confirming that it is her choice that makes or breaks the deal—literally.

And she breaks.

You see them, the Roy children, through the glass walls that separate the various conference rooms. You see the pain, the anger, the fear; it comes to a head, and all of the raw emotion of the last days is borne into the world, witnessed through the glass. You listen to Kendall’s rage, and for a minute you are a teenager, listening to one of Logan’s tantrums after one of Roman’s misdemeanours. For a minute, you realise how quickly Kendall turns into his father. For a minute, you feel your heart break on their behalf—at the end of the day, they are children, mourning for a father whose love was confusing and hateful.

The poison drips through.

You are your mother’s daughter, and he is his father’s son.

Afterwards, as you stand beside Shiv in a commemorative photograph, it is understood that there is no singular reason behind this. The freedom of her siblings; the power as the wife of a CEO, not the sister; the wishes of her late father; Kendall’s rage; Roman’s breakdown; the inevitable becoming of one’s own mother. When you and Roman leave, despite the knowledge that Roman is emotional and angry and probably confused by a sense of relief, you resolve that you will call her in the morning. You’ll make your exit as quietly as you can, but you will try to book Saturday morning brunches with her like you used to when you were in your early twenties. You’ll text Rava a little more, and try to create some positive influences in the next generations of Roy children.

You think of your parents. Of Logan, of Caroline, of your own siblings and your own childhood. The poison drips through. What if it doesn’t have to?

[queenshelby]

Yes! Mr Murphy (Part Three)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Smut, Age Gap, Past Abuse, Child in Foster Care, Angst, Depression 

Words: 4,899

Notes: This is a series which is not based on Cillian’s actual life!

Summary: Imagine having a one night stand you can’t forget. Then imagine seeing him again where you would least expect it.

A week had passed and you had settled back into drama school without any problem whatsoever which, to you and your best friend Nadine was a surprise. You had to Nadine about your encounter on campus, you had told her about who he was and you had told her exactly how you felt about this man being your lecturer now. But Nadine was the voice of reason. Like always, she supported you, retained your secrets and reminded you that it would just be for four months and then he would move on and so would you. The semester would be over by the end of October and you would probably not see him again.

Just like you however Nadine was surprised by the fact that your new lecturer was a rather famous actor himself. She should have known him but, then again, even if George Clooney was to walk straight past her, she would probably not notice. Movies and acting did not interest her and this is why you were such a good match. You liked different things but were open to discuss each other’s needs and wants because you went through the very same hardship when you were young.

Both of you went through the so called “foster system” in the UK, moving from one family home to another and the last of them was the worst for you. Your so called parents were strict and any time you didn’t obey or came home with bad grades or were caught doing something which you were not supposed to do, you were punished for it. Food was withheld from you and, on occasion, you were even beaten to the point where your skin turned blue. But it was not your foster father who punished you. No, he was a good man. But your mother was not. She was vile and abusive and, thus, when you turned eighteen, you moved out into a home designed for women like you. It was a home for women who went through abuse and pain and an inquest had since been conducted into your living situation after you had filed reports with the authorities against your foster parents.

This inquest itself however was difficult for you to go through and Nadine went through exactly the same. She, too, went through the system and lived at the facility with you which provided excellent care for anyone who needed it but, on occasion, you felt somewhat worthless and ashamed about living there still. You had a job now, but your income was nowhere near enough to cover your living expenses, so your options were limited. On occasion, you would indulge on a night out of course, but mostly, you were saving all your money for a deposit bond so that you could finally move out of this place and make space for someone else who needed the help. Nadine was trying to do the same and with 500 pounds short, you eventually began looking for apartments together. Yet, no one wanted you or Nadine as tenants, at least not without any guarantees and a guarantee was not something you could provide. You had no parents who would be willing to act as guarantors and you were still young, making you a risky choice for prospective landlords.

Just like you, Nadine had received some funding to attend university but, unlike your funding, her funding was not conditional upon anything. Your funding, on the other hand, came with several requirements, one of which was that you had to commit two years of your post graduate career to a certain ballet and dance company in London.

You were an excellent dancer and had two jobs, one of which was performing on stage for this very same ballet and dance company. You were not good enough to be the lead just yet though, but this is why you went to drama school. It was the job you loved the most and if it was not for your lack of acting skills, you knew that you would have excelled already in the world of ballet and musicals.

But that job, unfortunately, did not pay well enough yet either so, every evening following drama school, and every Saturday morning as well, you taught young children how to dance through a dance school on campus, called the Stafford School of Dance. You taught them ballet and modern dance and loved spending time with the youngsters, some of which were on a scholarship as well. Others were private students and most kids you taught were willing and eager to learn.

***

Reflecting on your life was something you did on occasion but reflecting on life was also something you were required to do as part of your first essay in PRAC300.

Why this was relevant to your acting skills you did not know, but according to the curriculum it was and when you spoke to Cillian about it, he explained to you that reflecting on your own life will also assist you in dealing with emotions of others. It will help you to put yourself into the shoes of your characters without which you cannot put on a convincing act.

You can pretend to be sad, but no one will believe you unless you can comprehend how the character would feel in any given situation. The character you portray may be sad for a reason and if you reflect on your own life as well, including moments of happiness, sadness, love and pain, then often you can draw parallels to some of your characters feelings and the reasoning behind their emotions.

Thus, according to Cillian, if you are unable to feel and draw from your own emotional state and accept how you feel at times, you will not be able to draw upon the emotions of your characters either which, to you, made perfect sense. You had to allow yourself to show emotion if emotion was something you needed to portray.

Yet, even though all he said made sense to you and you knew that whatever you would write down in your essay was confidential, you did not want to pour your heart out to this man. Not after what happened between you. You had slept with him and did not want him to know about your troubled past so, in the end, you submitted something which you knew would probably fail you. It was a one-page document, dot pointed and brief and, as little as an hour after your submission through the university’s online portal, he sent you a message.

“Can we talk about your submission please” was all it said and you knew that he would pull you aside for it next week. There was no doubt about it, so you took the courage to respond.

“Yes. Sure. I will see you at your office on Monday. What time works for you?” was your response and, within minutes, you locked in a time.

But, the truth was, that you had no idea about what you were going to tell him. What was it that he needed to hear, you wondered? The truth?

The truth was that you were supposed to be a good girl. This was at least what you wanted to portray when you were around him.

But good girls do not hang around by the dumpsters smoking cigarettes. Good girls do not take sleeping pills to sleep. Good girls do not fail classes in their senior year of high school. And good girls certainly do not sleep with strangers.

So clearly, he knew that you were not the good girl you wanted to be and, thus, when Monday came around, you were sitting in Cillian’s class awkwardly like a pathetic loser, raising your hand, answering questions, to make up the credits that you would need after submitting this terrible paper to him.

Luckily for you, however, he never called you out that day. He left you be, sitting quietly at the back of the class room and then, without giving it any thought whatsoever, you were the first one out the door, wanting to avoid him at all cost.

“Will I see you at noon?” Cillian reminded you in passing as the students behind you were all hanging back, chatting and joking with the others. Lorraine, in particular, attempted to put on act of her own, flirting with Cillian and it amused you slightly as her efforts were clearly futile and he showed no interest in her.

“Yes, I will see you at noon” you confirmed and, realising that noon was less than fifteen minutes away, you then made your way to the ladies room.

***

The lady’s lavatory followed a dull theme of light green. It was dated and made you feel a little nauseous.

You were nervous about meeting with Cillian about your essay and thus splashed some cold water on to your face before taking deep breaths. Then, when you looked into the mirror you saw the ghost of a girl who had died a long time ago.

Your face was gaunt and all your features were sunken in. Your eyes, once your best feature, were the only things that seemed to stand out now, as if you were just that, all vacant and lifeless. There was nothing else to look at. You were already disappearing and realised that you were all bones and baggage now, made up of shadows and secrets and nothing, nothing at all.

Then, you recalled what your dance coach had said to you just recently, telling you that you were one of the best dancers in class, but you lacked emotion. You lacked expression and you certainly lacked happiness. It was obvious to him, which is why he suggested an acting class. But perhaps acting skills were not what you needed. Perhaps you simply needed some happiness in your life, but felt as though you were not entitled to it.

Then you remembered though, that, just a few weeks ago, you did feel alive and happy for one night only and this was the night you had shared with Cillian.

It was strange, exciting and sensual and certainly felt different to when you were with James who did not help the way you felt within your own body. Sure, you were attractive, but that was it. There was nothing special about you and James was just like another bad habit you had accumulated over the years. Just like cigarettes, you kept him around and went back to him simply for the fact that he provided something to you which you were familiar with.

But he did not excite you. Life did not excite you and, thus, you wanted to break every mirror in the bathroom. Every time you saw yourself you saw the sad little girl you used to be and still were, caught in this viscous cycle of negative thoughts. You were afraid to take risks because it had been enshrined in to you throughout foster care that taking risks was wrong. You lacked family and love and often wondered whether your life would change one day.

Then, eventually, you locked yourself into a stall to get away from your reflection. You knew that you were nearing another mental breakdown any minute now and began to scream, quietly, but loud enough for others to hear.

It was quarter past twelve now and you had been there, inside the lavatory stall, for fifteen minutes. You put your head in your hands, your fingernails digging into your face, wanting to scream but not having the nerve to do it.

Traumatising thoughts about your past visited you just like bad dreams did at night. You were losing your mind or maybe you have lost it already.

Some time passed, but you could not tell how much. You just let yourself slip away from reality for a bit but then, suddenly, the sound of the restroom door swishing open made you jump, startling you out of your mad, mad thoughts. A familiar pair of brown leather shoes came to stop outside of your stall.

"Y/N? Are you alright?" were the words you heard next and, suddenly, time slowed. Your skin burned and your voice was shaky when you spoke.

"Please go. You are not meant to be in here" you said although you were not even sure if you really wanted him to, but you said it anyways.

"But I am in here, because, according to James, you’ve been inside the lavatory for over half an hour. So please come out before I tare the door open and embarrass myself in front of the entire school” Cillian chuckled, but with great concern in his voice. He knew that you were simply hiding in there and he was clearly worried about you and your wellbeing.

“Fuck. Seriously?” you stammered as you got up slowly and opened the stall door.

“Yes! Seriously Y/N! Clearly, you are avoiding me and I thought that we talked about everything that we needed to talk about. But, clearly, I was wrong as, first, you submit this ridiculous paper to me and now you are hiding from me…’ Cillian then said quietly as he was facing away from you in what you presumed to be an effort to give you some privacy, but his eyes then met yours when you looked in the reflection of the mirror.

You saw yourself too, standing in front of him with tears in your eyes.

“Y/N, fuck, are you okay? Did something happen? Should I call the student counsellor?” Cillian then asked anxiously when he noticed your tears and you tried to hold his gaze, but his eyes were too intense so you looked down at the tiled floor.

"God no, please. I just had a moment. I am okay” you stammered quickly but Cillian looked sceptical.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he then asked politely but you shook your head.

“I think I embarrassed myself enough already” you then told him but his eyebrows furrowed quickly.

“You are afraid of your own emotions and I get that. Most people are. But you know what I have learned throughout many years of acting?” Cillian said quietly again but, this time, with a warm and gentle smile.

“What?” you asked, wondering where he was going with this.

“That accepting and dealing with your emotions is an integral part of life. Unless you do that, you are not going to be happy and you most certainly will struggle with the line of work you chose” Cillian then explained and you were glad for his words and the way he spoke them, in a gentle and caring way.

“Can I redo my paper?” you thus asked, seeing that he had just given you a hint.

“I was hoping that you would and I want you to know that I will not judge you or think any less of you for what you write, even in light of what happened between us a few weeks ago” Cillian reassured you and, after you gave him a quick nod and wiped away your tears, he walked towards the door of the lavatory and held it open for you.

“Can you redo the paper by Wednesday? I need to pass it on to the unit co-ordinator after marking it” Cillian then said with a slight chuckle and unbothered by the fact that he just came walking out of the ladies’ bathroom with you.

“I can. And I am sorry for my slobby work” you then said and Cillian smiled. God, he was so beautiful and you stared shamelessly at him. He should not have become a lecturer at school full of young female students. Temptation was going to come knocking at his door, hordes of twenty something year olds begging to be noticed, to be loved, to be fucked. It was insanity and, just like Lorraine and some others, you wanted him and that was another form of madness.

***

Eventually, Wednesday came about and, when it did, your first stop was at Cillian’s office. You had promised him to hand in your revised paper by nine and so you did.

This time, your effort was six pages long and included a large spiel about the foster care system in the UK and how it shaped you from an emotional point of view.

It also included an array of emotions you believed many others like you felt when dealing with every-day life and you drew an analysis to several famous playwrights in this regard.

It was a paper to which you had prepared with great care and thought and, in the end, the references to pieces of literature within your writing impressed Cillian so much so that, on Thursday evening, he sent you a message on the online portal.

“I am impressed. This was certainly worth the wait” he said with an emoji on the end and his message certainly made you laugh.  

“I am glad, because it wasn’t easy to write knowing that you would be the one reading it” you responded quickly after you saw Cillian’s message pop up on a notification on your phone at around 10 o’clock that night and, the fact that he wrote to you that late made you wondered whether he was thinking about you.

Clearly, he had read the paper on Wednesday morning already before marking it up and sending it to the unit co-ordinator, so why did he only message you now? There must have been a reason for it, right?

***

Unbeknownst to you, there was most certainly a reason behind this message. Cillian had, indeed, been thinking about you and the truth was that he was taken by what you wrote in your essay.

He saw the care you took in writing down your every thought and very own emotions and, whilst he could sense that you were hurt by the system, he did not consider you to be weak. To the contrary, he considered you to be much stronger than you even thought yourself you were. You took matters into your hands after the system had failed you for which Cillian was impressed by your courage and soon realised why it was you who had been chosen for the school’s scholarship.

You were determined and, whilst you struggled to come to terms with your feelings about what happened to you, you were emotionally intelligent. You knew what you needed and you knew about the bad influences in your life. You just had to act upon your desires, follow your goals and leave your pain and restraints behind.

As such, Cillian had nothing to add to your paper and thought about it every night since. There was something about you which intrigued him and it was not just sexual anymore. His interest in you was now on a different kind of level and the feelings he was starting to harbour for you bothered him even more, causing him to supress his very own emotions.

Nonetheless, his behaviour was obvious to some, especially Cillian’s friend Enda who began to worry about whether this was still about you, the woman he had met two weeks ago. Even though Cillian assured him that he had forgotten all about your short lived fling, he did not believe him. He was not the type of guy who would engage in one-night stands and then never think about them again. He must have liked you from the get go, as otherwise he would not have slept with you. And he most certainly had not forgotten about you now as all he ever did was mentioning your name non-stop, in every single ended conversation.

***

Eventually, Friday rolled around and it was another day where you had a lecture in PRAC300 before commencing your on-stage experience for which you were each given an on-stage character role and a script to read.

The roles were allocated randomly and when you were assigned the role of a mother who had recently lost her child, you could not help but sigh. It was not a role you were confident to act out and, yet, you knew you had no choice. You had to take the role just as the other students had to take theirs. This included James who, also, ended up with a role he was unhappy about but, unlike you, he spoke about it in Cillian’s lecture.

“Cillian, man, I think there is a mistake” he said in an arrogant way. “This role should be given to a girl” he then determined, causing Cillian to furrow his eyebrows.

“Why?” Cillian asked, seeing that James had been drawn for the role of a character named Tina.

“Because Tina is a girl. I am playing a fucking girl” James laughed but Cillian did not think that his comment was funny at all and neither did you.

“Not exactly James. The role is non-binary” Cillian explained before telling him that this was an acting class. “It is important for you to step out of your comfort zone” Cillian furthermore said before pointing out that two female students in the class are portraying male characters.

“Now, if I can get everyone to schedule a time with me please so that we can go through your role, one on one, that would be fantastic” Cillian said and, of course, Lorraine and some of the other female students were quick to snap up the first available spots, leaving them with next to no time to prepare.

Luckily for Lorraine, she was portraying a young female teacher who was in love with her student. It was a role based on a book you had read quite recently and the fact that she got this role was rather amusing to you. She had an interest in Cillian and it was basically a matter of roles in reverse, if only Cillian had known.

When it was finally your turn to book a time with Cillian however, you realised that your work schedule clashed with his remaining availabilities and it was at this point that he made an exception for you which was something that got you talking.

“I have ballet classes from 3 o’clock to 6 o’clock each day and I cannot get out of them” you told him after the last student left the room and, sure enough, he remembered your passion for dance.

“So, how about 7 o’clock on Thursday then? It is after hours but I could come and see you here” Cillian offered and you were surprised by his suggestion.

“Is that not too late for you?” you wondered, knowing that he two young daughters.

“Well, generally speaking, Thursdays and Fridays are fine” Cillian responded since he was usually on his own on these days and, just after he told you about his availabilities for the next week, he also mentioned that both of his daughters had recently joined the dance club at Stafford school, which was an integral part of the academy you attended.

“Really? Do they like it?” you asked while imagining Cillian taking his two girls to the ballet classes. It was mothers who attended the classes with their children but, on occasion, a dad would come along and appear totally out of place.

“Yes. They seem to enjoy quite a bit” Cillian told you before showing you a photograph he took of them from their last class.

“Who is their teacher?” you wondered, seeing that they were both between the ages of eight or ten.

“Miriam Connor. She is a young French woman I think” Cillian told you while sliding through the photographs and you could immediately see the resembles of him in both of his daughters. They had the same pale freckled skin and light-coloured hair.

“Yes, she is. She is good. But she is leaving. She is going to join the London Dance Company” you told Cillian who appeared surprised as, clearly, the dance club has not informed him about it just yet.

“Really? That’s a shame, because the girls really liked her” Cillian thus told you and you smiled.

“Well, they will get another pretty awesome teacher mid-term, so don’t you worry” you then teased and Cillian furrowed his eyebrows quickly.

“Really? Is she good too, is she?” he asked without realising that you were going to be the girls’ new teacher.

“She is the best” you joked before telling him that you would be taking on the classes for the eight- to twelve-year-olds from next week.

“Talking about awkwardness” Cillian thus said, seeing that this may become a little weird but, to you, it meant nothing. If anything, you were looking forward to meeting Cillian’s daughters and teaching them how to dance.

“Yeah, I mean, you could enrol the girls into another dance school if you like” you said nonetheless but he chuckled.

“And explain this to my ex how?” Cillian asked while cocking an eyebrow.

“Well, you could tell her that you slept with the ballet teacher who also happens to be your student at drama school” you teased jokingly but quietly and Cillian quickly reminded you to be discreet.

“Y/N, please…” he said while you smirked and then suddenly interrupted him.

“God, relax Cillian. I am going to make sure that they have fun and excel with their routine. There is no bad blood between us and, like I said, nothing ever happened right? It was just sex, a one off, that’s it” you reminded him and Cillian gave you a reluctant nod.

“Yes, it was just sex” he repeated quietly after ensuring that there was no one around. “So, Thursday, 7 o’clock then?” he then asked and you confirmed.

“Yes, 7 o’clock is great. Thank you. But I must go now. I am already late for training. Thanks Cillian” you said before grabbing your things and walking through the door.

***

Later that day, at around five o’clock, you were indeed dancing and preparing yourself for a competition in London next week.

Unbeknownst to you, however, this time around, you were being watched just as you practised your routine, wearing nothing than black ballet shoes and a dark coloured long sleeve leotard.

“Cillian!” Enda said as he saw his friend standing in the door of Studio C. Enda’s daughter was dancing in the same class as Cillian’s girls and, after Cillian had already told him that he would be there this evening, he sought him out after seeing his daughters upstairs, practicing their routine.

“Fuck, you scared the shit out of me” Cillian jumped suddenly, after having been startled by Enda. He was too lost in his thoughts and admiration for you that he had not noticed his friend approaching from behind.

“What are you doing here?” Enda ought to clarify, seeing that the girls dancing took place upstairs. Downstairs was reserved for the adults, the professionals, and choreographers.

“The girls have ballet practice” Cillian said in a trance.

“Yes, upstairs in Studio A. As always” Enda laughed, seeing that he had dropped his daughter off there ten minutes earlier.

“They are there going through their routine” Cillian then said without turning around to face him and, what he was saying, made no sense at all.

“While you check out the grown-up ballerinas in Studio C. Makes total sense” Enda eventually laughed, seeing that his friend was paying no attention to his presence and it was then that he realised something. Enda realised that there must have been a reason for the fact that Cillian’s mind was absent and that reason was wearing a black leotard and fit his friend’s description of a girl he met in a bar two weeks ago.

“Oh wait, hang on, is that her?” Enda then asked a little too loudly, causing Cillian to finally turn around.

“Who?” he asked.

“Your student. The one you slept with…” Enda said before watching you turn around as well. “Oh shit, she is coming” he then went on to say and Cillian’s cheeks immediately turned red.

“Yeah, thanks for that man” Cillian said, worried about the fact that you had heard what Enda was saying but, luckily for him, you did not.

“Cillian, hey” you thus said with a smile before approaching Cillian and his friend.

“Hey” Cillian responded shyly.

“What are you doing here?” you wondered, seeing that his daughters had dancing practice upstairs, not downstairs.

“The girls have dancing upstairs and you know when they get to the age where, as a parent, your presence embarrasses them?” Cillian chuckled but you both knew that he was simply making an excuse for watching you.

“Yeah. I can see how that would pen out for you” you said nonetheless before your name was called again and this was when you had to leave and continue with your performance, leaving Cillian’s deep blue eyes to follow you.

“Dude, I can see your dilemma here. She is attractive” Enda observed but his friend was in a trance again as he was mesmerised by the way you moved to the quiet classical music playing in the background.

“She is incredible” Cillian then murmured, causing Enda to gasp.

“Okay. You may need to reconsider resigning from your position at the drama school Cillian…” he said with caution but Cillian did not listen. “Cillian?” Enda then asked again. “You aren’t listening, are you?” he wondered.

“What?” Cillian responded and Enda shook his head in disbelieve.

“Nothing, I am going back upstairs man” he then told him, knowing that there was nothing else he could do for his friend at this point. Cillian was playing with fire and Enda had to find a way to address this with his best friend. He could not pursue you unless he resigned but, even then, it would look terrible for him if it ever came out.

To be continued…

Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

Tag List:

@fastfan @elenavampire21 @dolllol2405 @allie131313 @cilliansangel @coldbastille @kpopgirlbtssvt @cdej6 @kathrinemelissa @landlockedmermaid77 @crazymar15 @m3th-kate (cannot tag)

@damedomino  

@lauren-raines-x @miss-bunny19 @halleisheree (cannot tag)

@skinny-bitch-juice @odorinana @cloudofdisney @lexiwoods (cannot tag)

@weepingstudentfishhorse @allexiiisss @geminiwolves @letsstarsfalling @ysmmsy @chlorrox @tommyshelbypb @chocolatehalo @music-lover911 @desperate-and-broken @mysticaldeanvoidhorse @peaky-cillian @lelestrangerandunusualdeetz @december16-1991 @captivatedbycillianmurphy @romanogersendgame @randomfangirl2718 @dorothea-hwldr (cannot tag)

@missymurphy1985 @peakyscillian @lilymurphy03 @deefigs @theflamecrystal @livinginfantaxy @rosey1981 @elenvampire21 (cannot tag)

@hanster1998 @mariapaiva13 (cannot tag)

@fairypitou @zozeebo @kasaikawa @littleweirdoalien @sad-huffle-nerd @theflamecrystal @peakymalfoyscullymulder (cannot tag)

@0ghostwriter0 @stylescanbeatmyback @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni @momoneymolife @mcntsee @janelongxox @basiclassy @being-worthy @chaotic-bean-of-smolness @margoo0 @vhscillian @crazymar15 @im-constantly-fangirling @namelesslosers @littlewhiterose @ttzamara @cilleveryone @peaky-cillian @severewobblerlightdragon @dolllol2405 @pkab @babaohhhriley @littleweirdoalien @alreadybroken-ts @masteroperator @stevie75 @shabzy96 @rainbow12346 @obsessedwithfandomsx @geeksareunique @laysalespoir @paigem00 @lkarls @suneshinebelledaisy (cannot tag)

@vamp-army @luckystarme @myjumper @gxorg @eline-1806 @goldenharrysworld @cristinagronk16 @stylesofloki @faatxma @slut-for-matt-murdock @tpwkstiles @myjumper @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @smellyzcat @kittycatcait219 (cannot tag)

@theliterarybeldam @bekkiemahonxx95 (cannot tag)

@layazul @slutforprentiss03 (cannot tag)

@blossemedfloweroflove (cannot tag)

@lyn07 @kagilmore @dakotapaigelove (cannot tag)

@50svibes @mainstreetlilly @ourthatgirlabby @bitchwhytho @arthurdeservesbetterrip (cannot tag)

@takethee @registerednursejackie @sofi128 @mrkdvidal1989 (cannot tag)

@minxsblog @annipiola (cannot tag)

@heidimoreton @laylasbunbunny @laylasbunbunny

@queenshelby @camilleholland89 @forgottenpeakywriter @fmo166

@foofarny

@vintagecherryt