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narryffdreaming · 3 months ago

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A TOAST TO THE FUTURE — FIVE

Summary: Aurora and Harry used to be friends, but life happened and they grew apart. Now, 6 years later, they meet again.

Rating: +18

WARNINGS: The story contains explicit language and mentions a past abusive relationship (mostly the consequences of psychological/emotional abuse). Some chapters also contain explicit sexual content.

PART FIVE: 15,3k words. Author’s note: Hi! I'm so, so sorry it took me this long to update. I rewrote this part so many times it's embarrassing, and now that it's done I'm low-key freaking out that it will end up disappointing after such a long wait lol. Anyway, part 5 is here. I hope you're still around to read it and that you enjoy it :) only 3 more left now!

PART ONE || PART TWO || PART THREE || PART FOUR (I) || PART FOUR (II)

When Aurora wakes up, the room is dark, empty and unfamiliar.

She bends her arms by the elbows and perks herself up, leaning on them to scan the space as best as she can — taking in the small window to her right, the faint reflection on the TV in front of her, and the dim light flickering under the bedroom door.

Recollecting her memories feels like a process, and it isn’t until she hears the seabirds crying out and the waves crashing nearby that everything comes back to mind.

She’s on a yacht.

In Italy.

And all of her friends are there.

A smile grows on her lips as Aurora falls back into her pillow, and she closes her eyes just to recall the last moments of the day before—the way she kissed Harry on that floating mat, the way they walked back inside hand-in-hand, and the way they sneakily kissed again before pulling apart to join their friends. Like two rebellious teenagers who couldn’t get caught whilst living a forbidden love.

Except they weren’t teenagers, of course. Nor rebellious.

And except what they had wasn’t love, much less forbidden.

And yet…

Damn.

Joy rushes through her chest, causing her to bring her hands to her face just so she can giggle to herself.

Everything feels so silly, but also so exhilarating. The stolen glances during dinner. The unintentional and unstoppable smiles. How she kept listening to her friends even though she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Or how he ran after her when she left the group behind to go to bed, kissing her goodnight and taking her breath away one last time before she officially put an end to that eventful day.

A sigh leaves her mouth, and Aurora drops her arms to her sides. Kissing Harry had never been an option before, nor even a curious thought of her mind. And yet there was a certain level of desperation when it happened. A sense of fucking finally that ran through her veins as soon as their lips met, and that put her skin on fire every time he spread his hand open and squeezed his fingers around her. As if she’d been waiting for it her entire life, and not just less than a day.

Isn’t that… Weird?

Aurora stares at the ceiling, aware that her emotions are too over the place for her to fall asleep again.

What time is it, by the way?

And why is she still all by herself?

Is Maddie still outside?

Is everyone still outside?

Is Harry still outside?

Full of energy, Aurora turns on her side and stretches her arm towards the bedside table, reaching for her phone and bringing it closer to her face. When she unlocks the screen, though, brightness strikes directly into her eyes, making her wince and quickly give up. She groans, then, forcing herself to sit on the bed and curling her legs closer while she rubs her eyelids.

It only takes her a couple of seconds until she tries again, blinking and squinting as she lowers the brightness and Noah’s beaming face takes over the background.

Aurora bites her lip and stares at the screen, admiring the picture she took just a few weeks ago during one of their walks around the park. A thumbs up on one hand and a pink flower on the other, a huge smile spreading from cheek to cheek and the sun warming up his entire face.

He looks a lot like his father, there’s no way to deny that, but his kindness and sensitivity sets him far away from him—something she deep down is grateful for.

It’s hard to believe that something so beautiful and innocent came up from such a complicated and unpredictable relationship. It’s hard to understand that the same man who treated her worse than anyone has ever treated her, is also the same man that gave her the biggest and most honest love she’s ever felt. And it’s hard to comprehend that even though she sometimes wishes she had never met Zack, she would actually never wish she hadn’t married him. Or had a kid with him.

She brushes her thumb up and down the side of her phone, almost as if she could caress her son. She’s never spent this long without him, and she misses him. She truly does. Even if her latest thoughts have failed to show that.

Heaviness sets deep into her belly, and her chest tightens up.

Shit.

What the hell is she doing?

A make-out session with an old friend wasn’t on the schedule. It isn’t even something she ever imagined it would happen. She just… Went with it. She listened to her friends, she had a couple drinks, and she let whatever she was feeling back then take full control of her actions.

She put a pause on her doubts and, for a moment — for how long that moment lasted — she didn’t think about the consequences. She didn’t think about tomorrow. She didn’t think about next Monday. She didn’t think about her son, who was spending the first weekend away from her. And she didn’t think about her ex-husband, who was taking care of their child while she took a weekend off on a luxury yacht in the Amalfi Coast.

She didn’t think about anyone, or anything.

She didn’t question. She didn’t wonder. She didn’t overthink.

Just like everyone said she should do.

Just like her friends told her she should do.

Friends who don’t have kids yet. Friends who don’t have ex-husbands yet. Friends who haven’t failed in life yet. Friends who don’t wonder who they are, or why everything crumbled down around them. Friends who aren’t worried about how they’re going to make it by themselves from now on, or how they’re going to find new dreams for a future that’s nowhere to be seen.

A toilet flushes somewhere, and Aurora jolts. She drops her phone on her lap and looks up, listening to the heavy steps that seem to get closer and louder each time, as if crossing the same floor she’s in and walking directly to her room.

Through the tiny gap under her door, she sees sounds turn into shadows, and then she hears the mumbling. The soft laughing and the shushing, until everything goes quiet and the handle finally moves.

Light from the hallway cracks in while Maddie walks in, carefully and slowly. It’s only a tiny bit, but it hits directly on Aurora’s face, making her raise one hand and cover her eyes.

“Oh,” Maddie whispers, stopping on her tracks. “Sorry. Was trying not to wake you.”

“��s okay.”

Aurora clears her throat, getting rid of the sudden dryness and soreness.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes. Why?”

“I don’t know… Why are you sitting in the dark all by yourself?”

“Oh.” Keeping her chin down and one hand up to block the brightness from her face, Aurora shrugs. “Nothing.”

“Right…” Maddie says, dragging each letter a little longer than she normally would.

With a roll of her eyes, Aurora shifts on the bed and drops her body to lay back on the mattress.

“I just woke up, Maddie. Don’t be annoying.”

Maddie laughs and steps inside, letting the light from outside guide her whilst she walks towards the wardrobe and rummages through her clothes.

Aurora takes the opportunity to place her phone back on the nightstand and get comfortable under the covers.

“Have you been awake all this time?” Maddie asks. “We thought you were sleeping.”

“I just said I just woke up.” Aurora turns on her side and smashes her hands between her cheek and the pillow, catching the moment her friend freezes for a second while pulling her dress over her head.

“Okay?” Maddie murmurs, fully removing the item and throwing it into the wardrobe. “My bad. Did we wake you or something?”

Aurora sighs. She watches as Maddie puts a t-shirt and some shorts on, but she’s not really paying any attention to her movements. Her mind is foggy, thinking about how caught up in the whole kissing thing situation she was that she didn’t lose sleep over Zack never returning her texts. Or that her mind wasn’t flooded by Noah’s thoughts until she saw a picture of him.

“Hey,” Maddie calls, and Aurora blinks. She’s already facing the bed, hands loose by her sides while a frown takes over her expression. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She shakes her head and looks away, settling her sight on the darkness out the window. “Sorry. ‘M just tired.”

“You sure?”

No.

“Mhm.” She closes her eyes and nods. “Just need to fall asleep again.”

“Okay… Goodnight, then.”

“Goodnight, Mads.”

Aurora hears the soft click when her best friend shuts the door, and also her light steps as she walks around the room. She then feels the moment Maddie pulls the blanket from her side of the bed, and also when she gets under the covers and makes herself comfortable with a sigh.

There’s a beat of silence, in which Aurora shuffles and turns her body around to face the wall. Maddie moves as well, and it’s easy to tell they’re both laying back to back now. Aurora feels it.

She also somehow feels the water outside. The darkness. The birds flying above and around. She feels when her best friend drifts into unconsciousness, when her breathing changes, and when her body gets heavier on the mattress. She feels time going by, although she can’t tell if it’s only seconds or also minutes that are flying past her.

“Do you know what you want?” Harry’s voice echoes inside her brain, and images of them laying on that mat take over the darkness in front of her. His pinky around hers, the way he looks at her, his skin underneath her foot when she moves it up and down. “I think about this a lot, y'know? About you.” His confession puts a smile on her face, and it makes her heart skip a couple beats. She wants to kiss him, and she knows he wants to kiss her, too. So she waits for it to happen. And she waits for him to do it. And she waits. And she waits.

Why isn’t he trying to kiss her?

What is he waiting for?

Something is off, and she isn’t so sure anymore.

Was she wrong all along?

“I want you to make a move,” her voice pathetically begs while Harry laughs, and Aurora’s body jolts in bed. Eyes flying open while her muscles tense up and relax all at once.

I want you to make a move.

Is that what she actually said to him?

Her heart beats heavily, and her belly stirs uncomfortably. She wiggles her feet and rearranges her arms and legs, adjusting her sight until the empty wall becomes clear in front of her.

When she shifts her eyes around, she notices there’s no brightness under the door anymore, meaning all lights are off and everyone finally went to bed. And that she missed when it happened.

“I want you to make a move,” flashes again inside her mind, and blood rushes through her cheeks.

Shaking her head, Aurora grinds her teeth and stretches her arm, reaching for her phone one more time.

The concept of time feels even fuzzier now, so she doesn’t distract herself like she did before — Noah smiles at her, she misses him, and it’s 4:15.

Aurora sighs. Without too much thinking, determination guides her body off from bed, blindly searches for her flip flops, and takes her straight to the door.

Upstairs, everything’s quiet.

Quiet, empty, and dull.

It isn’t pitch black, though, allowing Aurora to confidently move from one common area to the other as she makes her way to the kitchen.

All she wants is a glass of water, but she knows the galley is considered exclusive for the crew, so a quick apology and explanation rests on the tip of her tongue as she slides the door open as discreetly as she can. Just in case.

Once inside, dim lights cover one side of the ceiling, turning the painfully white kitchen into washed-out yellow. She shuts the brown sliding door again and crosses the small passage-way, walking past the freezers and fridges, then around the island counter.

She follows her instincts while rummaging for a glass, half-smiling to herself when she finds one and then placing it on the counter so she can look for a bottle of water next.

Back around the unbelievably clean island, the French door refrigerators are just as fancy as everything else in that yacht. Aurora takes a moment to gawk at the perfectly organized shelves inside, but it only lasts a second or two until coldness crawls through her hands and arms.

It ends up being an awful reminder of how little she’s wearing right now, and that she should hurry out of there before the crew shows up for breakfast. So she grabs the labeled bottle of water and closes the fridge, then steps towards her glass and watches as she fills it up to the top.

“I want you to make a move,” her mind repeats for the tenth time, and Aurora sighs.

It’s hard to tell why those words are bothering so much, or why they’re hunting her in the first place. She was happy when she woke up, so why can’t she get rid of the uneasiness that’s settling in her chest?

Shaking her head, she places the bottle back on the counter a little harsher than she should, wincing when the sound echoes between the walls. She brings the glass to her lips, then, drinking her water whilst looking out through the window and indulging her messy thoughts.

Because kissing Harry felt right in the moment, it felt right when he chased her down the stairs for a quick goodbye, and it felt right when she snuggled her cheek against her pillow. And yet, the more she thinks about it now, the more she’s questioning the whole thing. As if there was something off about it. As if her perceptions and memories from that moment weren’t safe enough to trust.

Despite the turmoil inside her brain, the galley is so peaceful that the moment a door slides open everything seems to tremble around her.

And Aurora jumps.

And gasps.

She places the half empty glass on the counter and turns around, one hand on her chest whilst she gapes at the passage-way with widened eyes and parted lips.

Her entire body system stops while she waits, and then Harry walks into view, looks at her, and freezes on the spot.

“Heyyy,” he slowly and huskily drags out, his entire face lighting up as he takes one hand up to rub his eye. “You’re up.”

“Jesus.” Aurora closes her eyes and places one hand spread open on the counter, leaning her weight on it while she exhales heavily through her mouth. Underneath her other palm, the one that’s still on her chest, she feels her heart come back to life. Twice as fast. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“Oops.” He laughs, shortly and calmly. “Sorry, love.”

Rough and raspy, the sounds echo from the back of his throat and speak directly to her brain, sending a shiver all the way down her spine and waking up all the butterflies.

She’s never heard his morning voice before. Not like that, at least. Not when it acts like a magnet and pops her eyes back open, then draws all of her attention straight to him.

“Damn, I’m knackered,” he says, stretching his arms over his head and then yawning loudly.

Aurora silently watches him.

Unlike her, Harry’s clearly barely awake, his puffy cheeks and chaotic hair inevitably giving him away.

Also unlike her, Harry’s properly covered from neck to toe, a black sweatshirt and some black sweatpants making him look the coziest she’s ever seen.

The idea of wrapping herself inside his arms isn’t subtle when it crosses her mind, even leaving behind a vivid picture of what the embrace could look like before Aurora kicks it out the door.

“That was probably one of the worst sleeps of my life,” he adds next, dropping his arms down and slightly shaking his head. When he flutters his eyelashes to glance at her, a soft smirk grows on his lips, and he tilts his head to the side. “Auri?”

“Hm?”

“You okay?”

She blinks and nods.

“Yes. Sorry.” Stepping away from the counter, she waves her hands up and down to remove the tension away from her. “You were saying?”

Harry chuckles and steps forward, then makes his way around the island and closer to her. “What’s on your mind? Why are you looking at me like—”

He freezes on the spot once again, however now with his eyes wide open and stuck on her silhouette.

Aurora doesn’t need to look down to figure out what he’s staring at. She feels the burn on her chest, and then on her thighs. She also feels his green irises wandering attentively, moving in such a bold and straightforward way that it would be impossible for her to doubt he’s checking her out.

“Harry…” she calls him out, but she also chuckles, sounding just as nervous as she feels. “You were saying what, exactly, about me looking at you?”

“Uh, sorry.” He shuts his eyes and clears his throat, then firmly shakes his head side to side. As if getting rid of his thoughts. “Shit. Yeah. Sorry. That’s… Yeah. My bad. Sorry.”

Aurora laughs again, turns to her glass of water and shrugs.

“‘S fine,” she says, bringing the cup to her lips and drinking what’s left in it. To be honest, she knows her navy silk pajamas expose all of her cleavage and just barely cover her legs, so it’s not really a surprise that her tiny outfit didn’t go unnoticed by him.

Besides, she isn’t exactly bothered by it. It’s nice to see she can still get such a genuine reaction out of someone—it’s been a long time since anyone has made her feel wanted and desired.

And probably just as long since she’s felt confident enough to believe she could be wanted and desired.

“Where did you get that glass?” Harry asks, suddenly closer. Too much closer. “Need some water, too.”

She puts the glass down and turns her head to the side, glancing at him over her shoulder. “Want this one?”

“Yeah, can be.” He nods. “If you’re done with it.”

She shrugs one shoulder and focuses back on the bottle of water, refilling the cup for him.

Their whole interaction it’s too formal. Kind of mechanical. And weird. Aurora can’t decide if there’s too much going on, if there’s absolutely nothing going on, or if what’s going on should be enough.

“There you go.” She turns slightly to the side and stretches her arm, offering him the cold drink. Before he can grab it, though, she pulls it back to her chest and frowns. “Actually, I put my mouth here, so maybe you just wanted a clean one? In that case they—”

“I’ll take this one, thanks.” Harry laughs, getting close enough to grab the glass from her hand. “You put your mouth on my mouth, too, anyway.”

Aurora gasps, but her lips curve into a smile and laughter quickly buzzes out of her chest. “Harry!”

Harry laughs, too.

“Just saying! In case you forgot about it.”

She rolls her eyes, the playful tone in her voice matching her wrinkled eyes and the big smile on her face. “What a smooth way to remind me, then.”

“Trust me,” he says with a shrug, then looks at the glass in his hand and smirks, almost as if sharing an inside joke with himself, “it could’ve been worse.”

Out of words, Aurora leans her hip against the counter and crosses her arms, watching him tilt his head back and drink the water down.

The glass almost disappears behind his fingers, and the scruff on his neck looks just as messy as his curly hair. Underneath, his throat moves heavily, the muscles popping out with each gulp and his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

Aurora drifts her eyes to the fridges, noticing a new and erratic beat inside her chest. It’s not like she forgot how attracted to him she felt last night, or even during the day, but she definitely didn’t know this is how she’d feel when she saw him again. How easy it would be for her to want him again. How quickly she would crave for more of what they had.

I want you to make a move.

She bites her bottom lip and looks down, closing her hand onto a fist only to entertain her brain with something else. Something that doesn’t involve self embarrassment and silly thoughts.

“Hey,” Harry calls, followed by the clicking of the glass against the countertop. “Are you going back to bed now?”

Aurora shrugs, then tilts her chin up to meet his stare once again. “I mean, I was planning to, but…”

He curves his lips up, a genuine smile quickly growing on him.

“Same,” he says. And then, “Can I show you something, then?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

“Ok, great. I just need a minute to wash my face and all that, yeah? I’ll be back tho. I promise. Wait for me?”

“Sure.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” she chuckles.

“Ok. Yeah. Thanks. One minute, I swear.”

“Okay,” Aurora laughs.

And Harry nods. And turns around, and glances at her over his shoulder, and nods again. Ok, he murmurs. One minute.

And then he walks away.

“One minute!” he whisper-yells, right before he disappears through the door.

It takes him way longer than a minute to come back — of course it does — but Aurora doesn’t mind the wait. She doesn’t want to be caught hanging in the galley by any crew members, though, so she takes it as an opportunity to step into the living-dining room area and snoop around a little.

There’s not much to do, but at least she distracts her mind with minor thoughts, like the fact that all lights are off and all windows are closed, or that everything’s so quiet that she can hear the waves crashing against the hull. Or Harry’s feet when he climbs up the steps.

She goes back through the door, then, meeting him halfway and saving him an unneeded walk to the kitchen.

“Hey,” he whispers and smiles. “Thanks for waiting.”

“Of course,” she whispers back.

He’s short-winded, as if he ran to get there, but he also looks refreshed and determined, stretching his arm and offering his hand for her to hold.

“C’mon then,” he adds in another whisper, “let’s go upstairs.”

As she links fingers with him and follows him outside, she mentally notices a pillow under his armpit and a blanket on his other hand. For some reason, the simple gesture brings a smile to her face, but she’s good at looking the other way and keeping it to herself.

He guides them kind of calmly, then, but also slightly rushed. He is polite enough to say ladies first and let her walk up the stairs in front of him, but then also cheeky enough to stay behind and unashamedly watch her as she moves all by herself.

The thing is, though, that Aurora only catches him when she’s already a few steps ahead and absently glances over her shoulder. He’s practically drooling and doesn’t even notice she’s looking at him, which only makes the whole thing worse — or maybe better.

“Harry!” She mouths with a gasp, mindful of being quiet and not waking anyone up, but also unable to stop her laughter from coming out of her mouth. “Stop staring!”

He blinks a couple times and shakes his head, then immediately climbs two steps at a time.

“Oops,” he says under his breath, catching up with her and smirking sheepishly.

He seems the least regretful or ashamed for his actions, but she’s not exactly bothered by it, so she doesn’t hide the smile from him. Or how amused she is. She simply rolls her eyes and chuckles a bit more, facing forward and going up the rest of the way.

She only stops again when they finally get to the sun deck, knowing it’s the highest part of the yacht and therefore they can’t really go more ‘upstairs’ than that.

There are no walls or roof shielding them from the weather, so she’s instantly met by a breeze from all sides, causing her body to tense up and forcing her to take her hands up to hold her hair away from her face. Still, Aurora takes a deep breath in and bites her lip, filling her lungs with ocean air and her ears with crashing and loud waves.

That deck looks just as dark as all the others — if not even more. And yet, somehow, it also feels the brightest she’s seen since she woke up.

Most lights are completely off, except for the required ones, but half of the moon is up in the sky, casting the way. It allows her to see the shadows of the table and chairs where they spent half of the day before (the only covered area), and far behind, on the opposite side, the barstools with perfect view to the back of the boat.

“Was talking to Niall about this place last night,” Harry says, stopping so close behind her that she can feel the warmth of his clothes. He keeps his voice as quiet and soft as before, matching the delicacy in which he places his free hand on her bicep as he speaks again. “Told him he should bring Megan up here to watch the stars.”

Aurora pulls her lips into a thin-smile and nods, still needing another minute to assess the space.

Harry doesn’t seem to mind her silence, nor her astonishment, simply shortening the distance and pressing his chest to her back while respecting her needed time.

That is, for a moment or two, until she shivers.

“Ok,” he chuckles with a squeeze of her arm, then slides his palm down and easily finds his way to her hand, “let’s move now.”

He walks past her, using their intertwined fingers to guide them as he steps to their right, across from where she’s been staring at.

Next to the stairs, it’s the jacuzzi — the same one she saw the day before and freaked out about. She remembers seeing it, but she definitely doesn’t remember noticing there was also a large, wide sunbed right behind it.

Which there is, obviously, since it’s the only thing she can see once they walk around the hot tub.

“I brought you a blanket,” Harry says, “but if you want I can get you a jacket. Or you can wear my hoodie… I don’t mind. I mean, I wore this to sleep and I’m not wearing anything underneath, so I don’t know how you’d feel about that.”

He chuckles, but Aurora is only paying half-attention to what he says. She’s distracted by how huge the white leather cushions are, how they seem to sparkle under the moonlight, and how much space they take. They’re presented as three sets, as if individual loungers were put together, but in reality it ends up being one big and comfortable daybed.

“We can also go back inside if you want,” Harry speaks again, however this time the louder tone of his voice brings her to look back at him. “I’m not—I don’t want you to feel cold, so that’s totally—”

“It looks great,” Aurora offers, squeezing her fingers around his hold. “That’s why I’m speechless, actually.”

Harry brushes his thumb on the back of her hand and smiles, not even once removing the stare from her eyes as he speaks again. “In that case… How do you feel about watching the sunrise from up here?”

Excitement bubbles from her belly to her chest, and to her throat. Suddenly, it’s written all over her face—in her smile, her widened eyes, and her parted lips.

“Oh my God, yes! I’d love that!”

“Yeah?” Harry mimics her reaction, taking their hands to his mouth and kissing her knuckles. “Let’s get you warm then. C’mon.”

Aurora blinks and nods, murmuring a soft “okay” even though he’s already dropped her hand and turned away from her. She watches him place one knee on the edge of the sunbed, drop the pillow and the blanket, then quickly crawl to the middle cushion and take a seat.

“Ok,” he murmurs, taking off his worn-out shoes and tossing them next to her. “Almost there…”

She smiles to herself, entertained by how endearing he looks. By how endearing he is. How he scooches backwards to make sure he’s sitting fully against the backrest, how he coughs into his fist as he puts the pillow behind his shoulders, and how he spreads his legs open and bends them by the knees before finally looking at her again.

“C’mon now,” he murmurs, patting his hand on the spot between his thighs. “Sit with me.”

For a moment, and for as short as that moment is, Aurora considers playing hard to get. She considers making a joke about his demanding tone, or even about how acquainted with the whole scene he seems to be.

And yet when she thinks about it again, she can’t find a single reason why she would do that. She’s too tired to pretend she doesn’t care, doesn’t want, or doesn’t mind — if Harry’s offering, and if she’s feeling it, then wouldn’t she?

So in the end, she simply sits down and takes off her flip flops, then skitters backwards with the help of her own hands. Legs stretched out in front of her while she pushes and pushes herself.

Harry meets her halfway, his hands finding her waist and guiding her until her back touches his chest.

“There we go,” he says, pulling the blanket and throwing it over their bodies.

And just like that, easy like that, they’re molding and curling around each other.

Harry makes sure their legs are properly covered, then leans on his pillow and waits for her to drop her weight on him. When she does it, and as she crosses her arms on her stomach and waits for Harry to do the same—as she waits for him to hug her and hold her close against him—he busies himself pulling the rest of the fabric up to her shoulders. And then he sighs, wraps his arms around her midsection, and nuzzles into her neck. Humming while his curls tickle her skin.

His body relaxes underneath her, and she finds herself mimicking him. Letting all the air out of her body, loosening up all of her muscles, and going numb against his chest.

Comfortable. Warm. Satisfied.

Relieved.

In front of her, under the handrail, the glass is so transparent that it’s almost nonexistent. Darkness is out there, all around them, but not to the point where she can’t distinguish the horizon. The moon, even though distant to her right, works everywhere, highlighting a few clouds and also reflecting its beauty on the water.

To that same direction, it appears to be nothing but ocean, and as far as she can see the same goes to what’s in front of her.

On the other hand, above her, wherever she looks, stars are still easy to spot, and to her left the coastline is all lightened up. Blurry, small, and far away, but shining gold still. A reminder of where they are, but also a reminder that, despite how it might feel, they are not alone right now.

The whole experience brings a weird feeling to her chest.

The view, Harry’s presence, the sounds coming from the water…

It is just… Weird. Somehow also scary, but mostly — and oddly — comforting and peaceful. Hopeful. It makes it easy to forget about the world that’s waiting for her, about all the problems and all the pain. It makes it easier to pretend she doesn’t have to go back to London and keep looking for a job, or that she doesn’t need to worry about paying her own bills.

It makes it easier to pretend she isn’t trying to start a new life. A new life with Noah, but also a new life completely by herself. A life of her own. A life where Zack is only there because he’s the father of her son, and not because she can’t make it without his help.

In the end, it makes it easier to believe that she’ll get through it. That things will get better. And that she will be okay.

Which, truth be told, is the scariest feeling she’s ever had in life.

And the hardest to embrace.

“I wonder which one is Saturn,” Harry murmurs, bringing her out of her inner thoughts. “Or what constellations we’re seeing right now.”

She licks her lips and drifts her eyes above them, then to their sides.

The way she scans the sky is more attentive this time, not randomly taking in whatever’s out there, but focusing on finding specific information just for him.

The easiest to spot are always Saturn and Venus, but since only one of those can be found right now, she doesn’t think twice before resting her chin on her own shoulder and pulling one arm out from under the blanket.

“See the moon?” she asks, raising her finger to the sky and pointing to the three-quarter-white-circle that shines distantly on the horizon.

Harry turns his head, too, then presses his lips on her hair and murmurs, “Yeah?”

“Well, that brightest spot next to the moon is Saturn.”

“Shit. Really?”

“Mhmm…” She lowers her arm, but doesn’t bother hiding it under the blanket. “The Aquarius and Capricorn constellations are there, too, but we can’t properly see them right now.”

“That’s so cool…” he mumbles, seemingly too distracted by the new information he received. “What else? Do you know any other?”

She faces forward, feeling Harry follow her lead and remove his lips from her hair, then rest his cheek on the side of her head.

“Okay,” she says, once again lifting her arm and pointing it to the sky. “See that red spot around here?”

“Mhm.”

“That’s Mars.”

“Shut up!” He tightens his arms around her, and a soft chuckle leaves his chest.

Aurora chuckles, too, then moves her arm an inch down and to the side.

“And see this other star shining next to it?” she asks.

“The brightest one?”

“Yeah… That’s actually Jupiter.”

“Damn…”

“And I know the Pisces constellation is somewhere around there,” she says, pointing up and down next to the two spots she just referred to. “But most of the time I can’t tell exactly where… Then… Hmm… Well, I think that’s it. That’s all I— No! Wait. Actually, lemme just…”

She turns her head from one side to the other, and when she knows she’s looking at the wrong place, she leans forward and twists her upper body, trying to see behind them, too.

“Nuh-uh,” Harry groans, pulling her back to his chest. “No leaving.”

She crashes against him with a smile, settling into her spot and letting him cover her body again. Including both of her arms.

“But I can’t spot the bears from here… I think they’re back there…”

“The bears?”

“Yeah, y’know, Ursa Minor and Ursa Major.”

“I actually don’t know about those.” He chuckles. “And I also had no idea you knew about any of this.”

Aurora rolls her eyes, but her lips curl into a smile anyway. She cozies up against his chest, settling her arms on top of his and tilting her head slightly to the side.

“It’s not a big deal.” She shrugs. “I’ve just shown you, like, three planets. That’s nothing.”

“Ok, then show me more.”

“I don’t know any others.” She laughs, and from the corner of her eyes she can tell he’s smiling along with her. “I mean, there are a few that we can only spot during winter, and others that we can’t spot now unless we walk to the other side.”

“Hmmm… Well, I really don’t wanna move from here, so I’m happy with the ones I’ve learned.”

“Okay…”

“Unless you want to move, then we move.”

She wriggles her bum to scooch down a little and sighs, settling even more onto him. “Nah, I’m good.”

“Then we’re good.”

He places his chin on the top of her head, and Aurora faces forward with a smile on her face. Reconnecting with the ocean view and also with the sounds she apparently tunes off whenever they start talking.

Silence. Quietness.

Comfort.

“Y’know,” Harry eventually says, “now I’ll always think of you when I look at the stars.”

A beat of silence goes by, and then…

She laughs.

“Oh my God…” She stretches her spine and throws her head back, landing on his shoulder. “You’re sooo cheesy.”

“I know.” He tightens his arms around her waist, playfully squeezing her while turning his head to press his nose on her neck. “I am. And I don’t care.”

She shakes her head, still smiling and staring at the sky.

It’s like she can hear the happiness in his voice, and it blows her mind how easy he makes it seem. Or how contagious he is.

“Wanna know something else?” he asks.

“Hm?” Tilting her chin to the side, she rests the side of her face on his temple and closes her eyes. Focusing on the way he warms her skin as he stays hidden on her neck.

“I don’t think I’ve smiled this much in a really long time.”

“Really?” She raises her eyebrows, her lips never coming down from the upward curve they previously formed. “Well, a yacht on the Amalfi Coast can do that to you.”

“Actually… You are doing this to me.”

Silence settles around them. A heavy silence, but not an uncomfortable one. It gives time for his words to linger between them. Making her stomach flutter and her mouth break into this big and genuine smile.

“Damn.” She chuckles, closing her eyes and shaking her head.

“What?” he asks, lifting his face from her neck and kissing her cheek. Quick. Loud. And full of joy. “Gonna make fun of me again?”

She opens her eyes and lifts her head from his shoulder, holding onto his forearms as she turns to look at him.

“No, c’mon… ‘M not making fun of you,” she says, because she feels the need to explain. However… The playful smirk on his face indicates she doesn’t need to. He’s not mad. He’s not disappointed. He’s just teasing her back. Because he knows. He knows her, he gets her. And so, she sighs. “Okay, maybe I am a little…”

Harry laughs, his lips touching his dimples as he throws his head back and then looks at her again.

“But only,” she adds, a little bit louder so the smile on her own face doesn’t get in the way of her words, “because I think it’s really sweet and I don’t know how to react.”

“Hmm… C’mere,” he says, pulling her back into his chest and pressing his lips on her bare shoulder.

It’s a gentle kiss. Sweet, but calculated. Not too long, but also not too short. Just wet enough to linger on her skin when he pulls away, but also quickly to forget when it’s followed by another one, slightly to the side, and another one, even further to his right.

“You don’t—”

“Do you—”

They both speak at the same time, and they both also freeze at the same time, turning silence into giggles just a moment later.

“Sorry,” she says. “You were saying?”

“Nothing important. You go.”

“My thing wasn’t important either.”

“Wanna hear it anyway.”

“But—”

“Say it.”

“Ugh.” She rolls her eyes and chuckles. “Fine. I was just about to ask if you want me to show you where Venus is.”

“Venus?”

“Yeah, the planet.”

“Oh, right,” he says, breathing hotly into her skin before he kisses her one last time and rests his chin on her shoulder. “Of course. Show me, please.”

“Okay, so… Remember Jupiter and Mars?” she stretches her arm in front of them, pointing to the sky. “They’re higher now, right? So if you look closer to the horizon,” — she lowers her arm, trying her best to give short and objective explanations — “you can spot another bright star.”

“Mhmm… And that’s Venus?”

“Yep.” She nods, then drops her arm and grabs the blanket, covering herself from the early morning breeze. “That’s Venus.”

“Amazing. And she’s just showing up now? When it’s about to be over?”

“Yeah…” Aurora smiles. “I always associate Venus with the sun, because we can only see it right before sunrise or right after sunset. Never like, in the middle of the night. And in the evening it’s the easiest to spot because it’s usually the first one to show up… Or the brightest.”

“That’s really cool… I had no idea. So we got Venus, Mars and Jupiter right in front of us, and to that side” —he shrugs his right shoulder, indicating what direction he’s talking about— “we got Saturn near the moon. Got that right?”

“Yep. Perfect.”

“Ha!” He smiles, sounding all proud of himself. “Tonight we gotta do this again. Wanna see if I can find them myself.”

Aurora smiles, too. “Okay. I’ll test you.”

“Deal.”

Her smile turns into a joyful beam, and as their happiness nests in silence, Aurora feels herself somehow melting into him. Maybe not physically, but emotionally. And even maybe mentally, if that’s possible.

She isn’t really sure of what’s going on — and she can’t really explain it when she doesn’t understand it herself. What she knows, though, it’s that it’s nice to share that moment with him. And that she’s happy to be there with him. She knows that it’s nice to be wrapped inside his arms while the sky turns into lighter shades of blue and leaves its heavy darkness fully behind. That it feels good when he places his chin on her shoulder and watches how a new day begins right in front of them—how things change right in front of them.

Because things are always changing and things will always change.

Although…

Even when constellations officially start to fade off, there’s a reminder of their existence still flickering from time to time. Letting her know they’re still there, and that they can still be found. That just because they’re about to stand behind and let others shine, it doesn’t mean they won’t get another chance to try again. To show up again. To be themselves again.

And, yeah, maybe she’s taking it too far, maybe she’s reading too much into it. But Harry’s consideration and enthusiasm bring comfort to her heart, and as the horizon burns with flames and is draped with layers of honey, words fly out of her mouth before she can at least think about them first.

“This is actually something Noah and I do together pretty often… Watching the sky.”

“Yeah? He likes it?”

“He does, yeah… He never showed any interest, but one time he woke up in the middle of the night after a nightmare and he just wouldn’t stop crying… So I took him to the living room and sat with him next to the window… I mean, I was just trying to distract him, y’know? So I started pointing out the ones I knew and telling stories about them.”

“What kind of stories?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs and chuckles, aware of the lies that she would probably have to explain as soon as he got older. “I was just trying to calm him down, so I was improvising… Told him how there are two bears protecting the other constellations, about this dog that’s their best friend and helps them sometimes, and that when we see the brightest stars twinkling it’s because they’re watching out for us, too… I don’t know. Silly things like that. I’m not really creative so…”

“Those are not silly things,” Harry says, and she can feel his jaw move on her shoulder with every word he lets out of his mouth. “I mean, at least I don’t think so. I remember when my grandma died and I was struggling to understand the concept of not seeing her ever again, and then my mum told me Nana had turned into a star, so she would always watch out for me and that I could talk to her every night. And that was nice.”

Aurora feels the way he shrugs behind her, but it feels almost forced. As if he’s just trying to prove he doesn’t think too much of his own vulnerable words.

And yet, that doesn’t stop him from talking again and sharing even more with her.

“Sometimes I would look at the sky and pretend I was talking to her. Say hello, or goodnight, or things like that. Of course later I figured out it wasn’t real and I stopped, but deep down it kinda stuck with me, y’know? So now when I look up and see the stars, I like to… Y’know. Just think that my mum is up there, too. Y’know. Still around. Watching out for me. Hanging out with Nana. Stuff like that.”

Aurora bites her lip, taking in everything he just said. Aware of how hard it must’ve been for him to say that, and how even his voice and the words he used carried along that uneasiness, sadness and longing that comes with losing someone we love.

She doesn’t want to make the silence too long or turn it awkward, though, so she doesn’t search for the perfect thing to say, she just slides her hands to his wrists and tries her best to twist her upper body and look at him, then says whatever it’s there for her to say.

“That’s so beautiful.”

Harry smiles, and it should seem blurry with how close he is, but he actually looks as clear as ever. As pure and vulnerable as ever.

“I know,” he says. He turns his hands over and meets her palms, easily linking their fingers together. “And it’s not different from what you did when telling those stories to Noah… He’ll always feel protected now, he’ll have something to hold on to, even if he doesn’t say it out loud… And that’s because of you.”

Aurora bites the flesh inside of her cheek and breathes in, feeling the burning in her throat instantly watering her eyes.

“Okay,” she blurts out and faces forward. “We should stop now, because I’m about to start crying.”

Harry chuckles, but it’s so soft and tender that it feels like he’s just hugging her. “Sorry, love.”

Shaking her head, she clears her throat and brushes her thumbs up and down the back of his hands. “It means a lot… Everything you said. So thank you.”

“Of course.” He squeezes her.

“I mean,” she finds herself speaking again, “deep down I know it’s not silly and that he really loved that, because now whenever the sky’s clear he gets all excited for us to find them again.”

“And does he spot them easily?”

“Well…” Aurora smiles. “The bears are supposed to be Ursa Major and Ursa Minor, so sometimes… If they’re hard to spot and he’s really confident he saw them somewhere else, I’ll pretend he’s right. But the others, y’know, like the planets I showed you today, he’s usually pretty good at finding them, yeah.”

“Hmm… What a smart little guy.”

Her face breaks with happiness and pride, and for once she doesn’t even try to hide it.

Truth be told, Aurora knows she can’t take credit for Noah’s entire DNA, so there’s no point to deny that when it comes to intelligence, she hopes Zack’s genes will play a bigger role than hers. Which seems to be the case so far, because he’s constantly blowing up her mind with—

“Only two left now,” Harry murmurs. “Venus and…”

Aurora looks around, taking in how the setting they’re in slowly turns into strawberry ice cream, and how thin gray clouds surf in thin waves made of yellow lemon rinds. It reflects all around them — from the sky to the water, and even the air they’re breathing in. Suddenly lighter. Fresher. Saltier.

“What’s the other one?”

“Jupiter,” she whispers.

“Jupiter.” Harry nods. “Right.”

It is so magical that it takes her breath away, and the fact that the last two planets in the sky are barely hanging on a string doesn’t seem so bad. Not if it means it will lead them to witness something so extraordinary like this.

“Can’t believe everyone else’s missing this,” she murmurs.

“I know…” he says. “Hands down the most beautiful sunrise I’ve ever seen.”

Aurora nods, and a moment of silence goes by.

Then Harry speaks again.

“I’m happy it’s just the two of us, tho,” he says, his voice so low that Aurora isn’t even sure she is supposed to hear him.

But she does, of course.

She hears him, and she understands him. Because had their friends been there with them, things would be different. They probably wouldn’t even be sitting together, so they also wouldn’t be holding each other, or linking fingers, or whispering into each other’s ears.

In the end, she would’ve shared the moment with everyone, but she wouldn’t have shared it with him.

Much likely how the entire day is going to go by once they all wake up.

Which, now that she thinks about it, will slightly suck.

Before she can put together the words to agree with him, though, the sun finally peeks out, and the horizon turns into lava.

Dark and intense as a tangerine, it quickly takes over all the other colors—the timid purple here and there, the pink, the yellow.

It’s just as beautiful as before, albeit a little bit different. Because from now on, she knows it’ll be quick. She knows even blinking could mean missing something, and she knows it won’t take long for everything to go back to normal. For the magic to end. For things to be over.

And perhaps Harry’s line of thinking is traveling the same route, because he leans in and presses his lips on her shoulder, sighing loudly to her skin before he moves to the side and kisses her again.

And again.

Aurora bites her lip and breathes in slowly, filling her stomach with air before letting it all empty again.

He’s good at this. He’s good at teasing her and making it happen, both at the same time. He’s good, and Aurora likes that—she wants that. So she closes her eyes and tilts her head to the side, giving him more access. Giving him more room, and more skin. More to kiss, and more to taste.

Harry curls his lips up as he takes them further up, spreading more distracting kisses all the way through her neck. Following a sweet, gentle path that he makes sure to equally enjoy in every step of the way, up until the corner of her jaw.

“Is this ok?” he murmurs, low and husky, then takes her earlobe inside his mouth.

Shit.

Aurora’s body tenses all at once, and then a shiver runs down her spine.

He doesn’t wait for an answer before kissing her skin again, but it’s obvious that he doesn’t need one—there’s absolutely no reason for him to believe it isn’t okay to make her melt and sigh against him. Just like there’s absolutely no reason for her to do anything that would put a stop to what he’s doing right now.

And yet, it’s like her body reacts on its own, because next thing she knows she’s already turning her head to the side and searching for him.

Harry meets her with his chin at first, bumping it into her cheek before he tilts his head down and slides his nose all the way to her mouth.

As soon as they’re within reach, their lips act like magnets, immediately curling and molding around each other.

Aurora breathes in, as if she’s been lacking all this time, and Harry breathes out, as if he’s been holding it in all along.

Slow, but undoubted.

Wholehearted.

He lets go of her fingers and brings his hand to her jaw, holding her in place while his other arm remains around her waist.

The way his forearm rests on her chest, almost sinking between her breasts, fires an alarm inside her brain, and Aurora shuts it down by bringing her own free hand to his wrist and keeping him there.

It’s uncomfortable to kiss him like this—with her head tilted back and to the side. It’s uncomfortable, but it’s also comforting. The best kind of comfort, actually. To have him so close, so awkward, so real. So willing to just be there with her.

It makes her belly flutter, and her hands itch.

It makes her crave for more.

So when he pulls away, and when the sound of their lips parting echoes on the empty highest deck, Aurora drops her hands and shifts between his legs, turning and leaning sideways against him.

That is all Harry needs to take the hint and move as well—to get rid of the blanket, then find her waist and pull her along as he shuffles to lay down.

“Here,” he says, rolling on his side and holding the pillow for her to use.

Smoothly and effortlessly.

Aurora lifts her head and makes herself comfortable, watching his pretty features as he holds his weight on one elbow and brings his free hand to pull her hair out of her face.

His gaze follows his own movements, keeping track of his hand as he puts her untamed waves behind her ear, and also as he brushes the back of his fingers down her neck and through the curve of her shoulder and extension of her arm.

He’s respectful, but also straightforward. Brushing her bicep while actually scanning her breasts, then settling his palm on a covered spot on her side while he keeps running his eyes past her tiny silky shorts and all the way through her exposed legs.

Suddenly, Aurora is very conscious of the way heat spreads through her veins, the way her heartbeat speeds up, and the way her belly quivers.

She’s nervous, she knows she is. She hasn’t thought about being with anyone other than her husband (well, ex-husband) for almost a decade now, so it’s only natural her instincts are shouting for her to squirm away or hide herself. Even though she more than definitely doesn’t want to squirm away or hide herself. Especially from him.

“You’re so beautiful,” Harry murmurs, almost to himself, lost in sight around her ankles.

Aurora swallows.

Shadows of orange meet his silhouette, and the light blue behind him contrasts nicely with the green of his eyes. He looks kind of angelic, to be honest, praising her when there’s nothing but affection and admiration on his face.

“You think so?” she asks, then brings both arms between their chests, her hands nestling around his sweatshirt.

Harry brushes his thumb up and down her waist and nods.

“Always thought so,” he says, as if it was the most natural thing to share. And then he wanders his gaze up through her body and settles his attention inside her eyes, and Aurora feels the intensity of his many emotions pouring into her.

It’s hypnotizing, and it knocks the air out of her lungs.

“Always the most beautiful girl in the room,” he adds.

Aurora’s lips curl around a tiny and timid smile, and Harry’s gaze shifts to them. He leans in, then, closing his eyes and sealing his words by softly and simply pressing his mouth to hers.

Her chest squeezes around her heart, so she closes her eyes and slides one arm up, pressing her palm to the back of his neck and encouraging him to stay there.

Which he does, at least for another second or two. And even when he pulls away—even when he creates the tiniest distance between their mouths and squeezes her waist so he can shift closer and lay half on top of her—he still remains close enough to let her know it’s not over yet. And he’s not going anywhere.

Aurora keeps her eyes shut and sighs, instinctively puckering when his mouth fully touches hers again. Careful. Polite. As though he’s introducing himself and letting his presence be known before he curls around her bottom lip and sucks her flesh into his mouth.

The quietest and softest whimper vibrates in Aurora’s throat, and Harry deepens his fingers around her waist.

With a hum, he tastes her like he’s been craving for it his entire life. Like it’s the most delicious flavor he’s ever found. Or like he’s hoping to take a snippet of her forever with him.

He takes his time. And enjoys himself. Only letting go of her lip to peck her mouth once and then going for it again.

Except now he sucks her flesh in and secures it between his teeth, then holds it in as he pulls away.

For a moment, it’s almost painful. But it also brings a fire to her chest, and then a new whine to the back of her throat.

And then it’s almost embarrassing, how he leaves her hanging as he groans and suddenly lets her go.

It takes Aurora a moment to realize nothing else is happening. That she’s just laying there with her eyes closed and mouth parted, and that he isn’t kissing her anymore.

So she licks her lips and blinks, swallowing as she finds him already staring at her.

Attentive.

Handsome.

Preoccupied.

Affectionate.

With a racing heart, she spreads one hand open on his chest and takes the other up on the back of his head. Moving as much as she can whilst her arms remain tucked between them.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, and although she doesn’t mean to whisper, apparently it’s all her voice can come up with right now.

Harry smiles.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head twice. “‘M just enjoying the view.”

Aurora rolls her eyes, but she also mimics his smile and turns her head, avoiding to look at him in case heat spreads through her cheeks.

“Hey,” he calls with another squeeze to her waist. “C’mere.”

He’s leaning in before she fully tilts her head back, meeting her mouth with a little more intent than he’s shown so far.

Aurora closes her eyes and feels him smashing their lips together only for a second before he loudly breaks them apart, and then smashes them again, and again, and again.

And again.

The cute, little and repetitive mwah, mwah, mwah echo in her mind, causing her to smile and, very quickly, inevitably break into a giggle.

Harry smiles at her reaction, then moves his playful tenderness to her chin — mwah — her cheek — mwah, mwah, mwah — her nose — mwah — and her other cheek.

Mwah.

“Harry!” She laughs, bringing both hands back to her chest and squirming away.

Mwah.

“Stop!”

Mwah, now closer to her beaming mouth, and then mwah, right on top of her parted lips and exposed teeth. Kissing not only her, but also her laughter and her happiness. Sharing it with her.

The gesture makes her chest feel lighter, and when he pulls away again, it compels her to lift her head and follow him. Stealing a new kiss of her own—one that’s even longer and even louder than all others before.

Mwahhhhh.

Harry smiles, and as Aurora drops her head back to the pillow and blinks to the bright and clean sky, he brings his hand up to the side of her neck and lowers his face to touch his forehead with hers.

It’s kind of adorable, really, how cozy and laid-back he looks. His eyelids are shut and his mouth is slightly parted, as if he’s taking a moment to recollect himself, but the emotion behind his actions is still present. Deepening on a dimple and drawing the clearest upward curve on his lips, or even coming out of his chest and warming up her face with short heavy breaths.

Then it is also kind of impressive, how he mixes all that with confidence and maturity. How manly he presents himself, even though he’s full of cheesy lines and teasing words. How strong and tough he proves to be, even though his behavior is mostly carried by vulnerability and tenderness. Or how deeply he makes her feel, even though he doesn’t seem to be trying so.

Kind of adorable, kind of impressive, but also kind of crazy, isn’t it? Almost kind of scary. How easy it is to be with him like this. How moments around him keep causing this friendly and familiar feeling inside her, and how much playfulness and fun he constantly brings to the table. And at the same time, how quickly he’s sparking so many emotions inside her body. How he’s reminding her about things she didn’t even notice she forgot about, and how he’s leading her to realize how neglected her own desires and needs have been all this time.

The up and down brush of his thumb on her throat is nothing but soft and innocent, and yet it keeps bringing a new level of heat to the blood rushing through her veins. The way he looks (with his tempting lips and scruffy growing facial hair), the way his body feels (pressing on her side while one of his legs rests placidly on top of hers), and even the way he’s dressed (clothed from up to toe with the most simple and plain set of sweats).

Everything about him is making her body itch.

Everything.

And, to be completely honest, Aurora doesn’t know what to do with that. Or how she’ll go the entire day without going insane because of that. How she’ll watch him laugh without being able to run her fingers through his hair, or how she’ll sit next to him without being able to nuzzle on his chest, or how she’ll talk to him without being able to kiss his mouth.

She licks her lips, then, running her eyes over his too close and blurry face.

It doesn’t even make sense to feel like this for a person she’s just met again.

She knows it’s probably because she hasn’t gotten any attention in a really long time and he’s suddenly there, willing to give it to her. Being nice to her. Making her laugh.

She knows it’s temporary, that as soon as they leave the yacht their paths will part again and she’ll realize how overdramatic she’s being right now.

Rationally, she knows.

But still, what is she supposed to do?

Is she supposed to ignore how she’s feeling?

Is she supposed to ignore how he is making her feel?

Well…

Maybe, yes.

Maybe it’s for the best if she offers they go back inside and meet again when everyone’s around.

Maybe that’s the smart, mature thing to do.

And yet…

It is not what she wants.

Is she supposed to do it anyway?

With a sigh, that’s mostly to shut the voices inside her head, she slides her hand back to his neck, then allows her fingers to get lost in between his curls.

Things are quiet around them — too quiet. Waves crash distantly downstairs, seabirds cry out hazily from time to time, and despite the fact that the sun is fully out and the sky has settled into the most gorgeous blue and the most vivid yellow, other voices apart from theirs have yet to be heard.

It’s encouraging, somehow. To be all alone and under such a paradisiac view.

Maybe that’s what prompts Aurora to move next, when she tilts her chin up and down and brushes the tip of her nose with his own. Once and twice.

It’s a silent call for attention, and also a call that he picks up immediately, blinking and holding her stare with a new set of emotions behind them.

“Can I tell you something?”

Aurora scratches the back of his head and nods. Their noses brush again.

“Of course.”

“I can’t feel my arm anymore,” he whispers.

Aurora’s mouth curls up, then soft laughter breaks from her chest.

Harry smiles as well, then they both shift and shuffle until he’s laying on her other side and holding his weight on his other elbow.

“Fuuuck,” he breathes out with a chuckle, waving his hand up and down while finding a spot on top of her thighs for his other leg. “Ten minutes and we’ll switch again.”

“Okay.”

Still smiling, Aurora throws one arm around his shoulders and angles her body towards him, albeit a little bit more intentionally than before. Her other hand rests between them, her own elbow tucked between her breasts while her fingers hold onto the neckline of his sweatshirt.

Nothing else is said between them, no plans or intentions are shared, and yet it’s like they’re perfectly in sync.

Their eyes meet, then their smiles fade off. A moment goes by, and the ocean fills their silence as Harry shifts his sight to her mouth, then gets interrupted by his own heavy exhale when she drags her tongue to lick her lips.

“I swear to God…” he murmurs, already lowering his face closer to hers.

He places his arm across her belly and molds his palm around her side, then she reaches up and kisses him. Or maybe he leans in and kisses her—it’s hard to tell, with both of their mouths already open and their tongues instantly searching for each other.

Eyes closed, Aurora twists her hand around his sweatshirt and hums. And Harry sneaks the arm that’s holding his weight underneath her neck and hums. And just like that, it’s like an unspoken hesitation instantly dissolves, or like their brains finally get rid of the restraints that were pulling the strings up until then, because, very quickly, it becomes very desperate. Very messy. Very needy. And very intense.

For both of them.

Their kiss is now a kiss that can be heard, felt, and seen. A kiss that doesn’t stop there. A kiss that crushes her tightly onto the sunbed and pulls urgently down his chest. A kiss that tangles her fingers around his hair. A kiss that tilts their heads to one side, and then to the other one. A kiss that’s loud, and wet, and over the top. And yet never enough.

A kiss that feels right.

Damn it feels right.

So, so right.

Like putting together matching pieces of a rare puzzle.

Maybe not the most gracious kiss she’s shared with someone, nor the most tactful to display in such a clear and open space, but certainly one that consumes her like no other. So much so that it echoes sweetly through a whine in the back of her throat, revealing how gone for it—for him—she already is.

Harry slows down, then. He sucks around her lip and brings his hand to her throat, barely holding there for a second before he slides his palm to her collarbone and then further down, covering where she’s beating fast and out of tempo for him.

“I’ve dreamed about this for so long,” he says around her lips, digging his nails on her skin and the heel of his palm on the swell of her breast. Almost as if he’s trying to catch her heart inside his very own hand. “About you… About us…”

He brushes the tip of his nose with hers and, just like that, kisses her once more. Not giving her one second to absorb or question his confession before he’s taking over her mouth all over again.

And Aurora has questions, lots of them, but she’s also distracted. So distracted. Because Harry isn’t holding anything back anymore. He’s hungry, vehement, and demanding. Ardent. He kisses her so loudly that it is all she can hear, and so deeply that it is all she can feel. And she likes it. All of it.

So, so much.

She likes how he knots the hand that’s underneath her head around her hair and holds her tight, and then how he forcefully presses his other palm to her body when he strokes it down, feeling and squeezing all the curves of her chest, belly, and waist.

She likes how he isn’t embarrassed to use his tongue and teeth, or to show how much of her he seems to want to devour. How he sometimes moves his kisses to her jaw, and to her neck, but then quickly comes back to her mouth. As if he couldn’t stay away.

She likes how he touches her leg. How he teases with the hem of her shorts. How he always, always goes back to her sides. As if digging his fingers into her flesh is his favorite thing to do. And then how he presses her down and yet pushes her up at the same time, as if he couldn’t decide who should be on top.

She likes how fast, short-winded, and never-ending it goes. How it feels. How none of them can’t seem to bring themselves to wrap it up.

It’s like the entire universe stops around her, but also like her very own personal world finally starts spinning again. Like his kiss is the single drop to cure a hundred years of thirst, but also like getting away from his lips would mean going through another hundred years of starvation.

Everything he does fits perfectly with everything she does. And everything she needs. The way he holds her, the way he licks her, the way he breathes into her—the way he breathes from her. The pace in which he moves, the angle in which he tilts his head, the eagerness in which he pulls apart and moves in again.

Everything — everything — is good.

And she really, really, really likes it.

All of it.

So much.

Oh God.

It’s just…

It’s been so long since anyone has made her feel like this.

So long since her body reacted on her own, since she didn’t feel the urge to reprehend her instincts or shut down her needs.

So, so long, that she isn’t even surprised when she snaps out of it. When she brings both arms around his neck and pulls him fully on top of her. Spreading her legs open so he lays in between them, then taking both hands to the back of his head and raking her fingers all over. Twisting them around his curls. Tugging him close. Trying to find a way to get more of it, to get more of him.

She whines, as if frustrated that she can’t merge their bodies together, and Harry hums. Low and husky. Deep in his throat.

He kisses her fervently, like he means it, like he needs it, meanwhile settling his weight down and adjusting their heights so his hips are pressed against hers.

That’s when his bulge pokes between her legs, and the softest moan escapes from Aurora’s throat.

The thin and tiny fabric of her shorts does close to nothing to cover her underwear, making it ridiculously easy for her to feel his shape through his sweatpants.

Full, firm, and hard.

Heavy between her legs.

It catches her by surprise, to be honest, and she’s got no idea how further she should go —or how further he is willing to go— but she doesn’t even try to fight the feeling that creeps in. Instead, she brings both legs to hook them around his waist and finds the strength to move up and down. Timidly, just barely. Feeling him stroke exactly where she’s also grown warm, wet and needy for him.

This time, they both moan.

Harry brings both hands to her waist and squeezes her, holding onto her as he bends his legs by the knees and spreads them open, placing them underneath her thighs. It gives him the freedom to own the task to himself. To kiss her while wandering his palms through her sides, and then through her arms, then finally to meet her hands and link their fingers together.

It allows him, next, to drop their connected touch onto the pillow, then cage her head between his elbows and rest his forehead on hers. Leaving all kissing behind, because now all of his energy seems to be focused on rolling his hips collectedly. As though he’s desperately trying to keep it together. To slow himself down. To make the feeling last.

“Damn,” he breathes around her mouth. “Auri…”

Eyes still closed, she links her ankles even higher around his waist and squeezes her fingers around his knuckles. “Yeah?”

Another roll of his hips, and a deeper groan from his throat.

“I just…” he tries, but it sounds like coming up with words it’s nothing but a struggle right now. Like he physically can’t. Like he needs a few moments to recollect himself. “‘M… Sorry.”

Aurora blinks.

Harry is already staring at her.

He lets go of one of her hands and brings his own to her face, cradling her cheek while catching his breath and trying to speak again.

“I’m… I’m pretty sure this is about to be the best… And also the most embarrassing thing… That’s ever… Happened to me.”

Aurora breathes in and out. Heavily.

The fact that he’s stopped moving doesn’t go unnoticed by her, but he’s still pressed between her legs. And she’s still feeling him. And she’s still craving him.

“Why’s that?” she asks.

“Because…” He closes his eyes for a moment and sighs, then meets her stare again.

This time, Aurora finds a different mix of emotions hiding between the green of his irises. He looks softer now, maybe ashamed, and she can swear there’s even pain somewhere in there.

It causes her to bring her hand to his wrist and brush her thumb up and down. Soothing him.

“What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head.

“Nothing’s wrong. Jesus. Absolutely nothing’s wrong.” He chuckles, nervously. “It’s just… It’s you… And I’m really trying here but… But I think I’ll be done in less than a minute.”

Oh.

Aurora blinks.

And then…

Oh…

The look on his face makes sense now.

The furrowed brows.

The frown around his mouth.

The struggle.

The sorrow.

It’s cute—at least she thinks it is. And even though she doesn’t know what the best way to react is, she figures she probably shouldn’t be curling her mouth up (which she is), nor laughing (which she is about to).

“Huh.” Harry raises his eyebrows and flinches his head back. “Really? You think that’s funny?”

“No! Of course not.”

“Then why are you laughing?”

“‘M not laughing!”

She totally is.

Harry snorts.

“You totally are!”

Yup.

“I’m sorry!” She lifts her head to kiss him, but Harry dodges her. “C’mon!”

She tries again, and Harry slides his touch from her cheek to her neck, then pushes her back down onto the pillow.

All at once, Aurora swallows her laughter and gets rid of her smile, feeling his big and strong hand holding around her throat as she gulps down.

Shit.

At first, her brain recreates the scenario she’s become familiar with, and Aurora freezes. Waiting for the anger to come out. Waiting for the yelling to come out. Waiting for the voice telling her she’s ruined everything —again— and that she’s always finding a way to embarrass him.

But then Harry brushes his thumb up and down and rolls his hips once, and Aurora exhales through her nose. Shoulders dropping while her brain catches new details and reads the new context she’s in—noticing the patience on the slight tilt of his lips, the tenderness in which he holds her stare, and the carefulness in which he lets go of her throat and meets her hand. Then how he intertwines their fingers and drops them back to the pillow, above her head and next to his other hand.

His other hand, that’s still linked to hers.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, his head hovering over hers. “Won’t do that again.”

Aurora shakes her head.

He does that a lot, doesn’t he? Reading her mind and knowing exactly what she wants. What she needs. Constantly embracing her, and constantly encouraging her. And never making her feel bad or guilty for the things she does. Or for the way she is.

“You didn’t scare me. It’s just… I just…”

He nods. “I know.”

Of course he does.

In years of knowing him, Harry’s been nothing but sweet, thoughtful, and gentle to her. A great friend, really. There’s just too much kindness inside his soul, and absolutely no reason for her to believe this scenario could ever be remotely similar to the one she’s been trapped in for so long.

On top of that, there’s also the fact that for the last twenty-four hours or so, Harry’s been also sharing with her a side of him she’d never seen before. Flirting with her. Kissing her. Touching her. Growing bolder and bolder. Making her feel things he hadn’t made her feel before.

Overwhelming her in a way she’s never experienced before.

Which is why she launches herself forward and kisses him, refusing to let the ghost of her ex-husband’s actions get in their way.

“I don’t mind if you last less than a minute,” she murmurs, then unhooks and hooks her ankles around him, tightening her legs a little bit more and pressing her heels on his lower back. “Just keep going.”

Harry stares at her for a second or two, then leans in and kisses her.

“Ok,” he murmurs, too, then squeezes her hands and resumes the rolling of his hips. “But just so y’know, I love when you smile. And when you laugh. And I’m glad my lack of strength to hold myself around you amuses you.”

He kisses her, again, and Aurora’s smile is lost against his mouth. All and any previous thoughts swiped away by his tongue. Or nibbled by his teeth. Or sucked by his lips.

The way he moves is too intentional now, sinking and rubbing across her center in a very steady and very meaningful way. Back and forth. Back and forth.

Her entire body grows hot, and the very air around them seems electrified. She can feel how filthier and filthier the situation gets—how the desire pools between her legs, and how easier he slides with each stroke he takes.

And she’s sure that if she can feel it as he grinds on her, he can feel it, too.

So she removes her hands from his and brings them to the back of his head, tugging his hair to force him to look at her. Hoping to let him know she’s all in right now. That he can do whatever he wants, at any speed he wants.

Harry holds her gaze, then brings one hand to her face and moves a little bit harsher. A little bit faster. Creating a new pace while they shelter into each other’s eyes and their breathings speed up.

“Shit,” Harry curses. And then he groans—a sound that is very similar to a moan, and that gets muffled by her own mouth as he kisses her.

She pushes him closer and kisses him, too. Searches for his tongue and nibbles his lips. Hums inside his mouth. Matches his urgency and encourages his recklessness.

And then she brings one hand to his shoulder, and sneaks it underneath his armpit, and follows an invisible path from the side of his chest, to his waist, to the waistline of his sweatpants.

Harry breaks the kiss apart and looks at her with what can only be described as shock in his eyes.

He says nothing, though, so Aurora shuffles her hips and places her hand between them. Covering him while he gives her room and also rolls his hips again.

Long, full, and thick.

Against her fingers and palm.

Harry falters and moans, instantly closing his eyes and thrusting his hips forward.

Aurora wraps her touch around him as best as she can, filling her hand and feeling him up. Wishing she could do way more than that.

Harry moans again, and again. Shortly and breathlessly. He furrows his brows and stops moving, then takes his own hand to cover hers and guide her.

“I— Shit—I’m gonna cum.”

Aurora nods and kisses him. And touches him. And feels him. And hears him. And absorbs him.

“Auri,” he suddenly calls, and it’s a little bit heavy, a little bit tense. Different than any other time she’s ever heard him call her name before. Sounds like a plea, sounds like a warning, sounds like affection and admiration. Sounds like he’s fighting his own release whilst climbing toward a desperate climax at the same time. Like he’s struggling to let go.

“That’s me,” she whispers, and a low rumble of pleasure bursts from his chest.

It makes her sweat on the back of her neck and adds a new tingling sensation deep in her belly, one she can only handle by squeezing him tighter and moving even faster. Harsher.

“C’mon,” she adds. “Do it.”

Harry closes his eyes and furrows his brows, then parts his lips and crashes onto her chest. Vulnerable and real, moved by involuntary and helpless spasms that have him moaning and making a mess out of his own clothes.

She feels it through the fabric. The relief. The release. The moment he shatters and shudders. And Aurora stays with him through it, in awe of how beautiful he is. And sounds. And feels. She hugs him with her free arm and kisses his temple, and his forehead. And when Harry tugs her hand and brings it up to his mouth, offering little kisses to her knuckles, she nuzzles her cheek into his curls and allows herself to smile.

Allows Harry to stay hidden on her neck and catch his breath, whilst holding onto her fingers and crushing her body.

Allows time to go by.

And allows her heart to settle into a new beat.

Blissful.

Pleased.

Even though she didn’t finish herself.

And it’s just…

Everything.

She truly forgot being with someone could feel like this. That it could be more than the absent thrusting from behind, staring at the wall, and waiting for it to be over. That it could have other endings, apart from hiding tears away so she wouldn’t get a roll of eyes or have to hear “here we go again”.

That it didn’t have to involve emptiness, coldness, or loneliness.

That it could happen with someone who actually wanted to be with her.

She forgot, because she had to forget. Because she was forced to. Because she had to let go of the version she was holding onto and move on. Stop hoping things would go back to what they were, accept the reality she was in, and get away from it.

Which was really hard at first, because their relationship didn’t used to be like that. Of course it didn’t—Aurora used to love Zack. She used to be in love with him. She used to think he was the one.

If she digs enough, she could probably still find a memory of him dropping his head back while finishing on her mouth, or him kissing her to muffle his crying moan with the last few thrusts. She could, if she tried, remember the way he made her sigh, curl her toes and breathe out his name in the dark. She could also recall moments of them falling asleep wrapped around each other, then waking up and repeating all over again.

She could.

But she can’t.

And she shouldn’t.

So she doesn’t.

Because those memories aren’t real anymore. None of them bring her happiness anymore, so she doesn’t dwell on them too much. Or at all. They don’t represent the man Zack turned out to be. Neither the kind of love she wished she could have received—or she thought she would receive.

“You smell so, so nice,” Harry murmurs, brushing his nose up and down her throat. “Like peaches.”

Aurora smiles and closes her eyes for a moment—a way to focus in the present and once again get rid of her line of thinking.

“Thanks,” she says. “It’s my body wash.”

Harry hums, then presses his lips where he’s been breathing from. A long, sweet, innocent kiss. One that lingers on her skin as he shuffles down and rearranges himself to lay his face on her chest, his temple right where her sternum begins, and his chin right where the swell of her breasts meet.

“I think the crew is up,” he murmurs, and spreads his arms open, resting one hand near her shoulder and bringing the other to fidget with the strap of her top. Right in front of him. “Pretty sure I just heard people talking.”

“Oh…”

Her chest tightens around her heart, and it’s hard not to pout at the idea of having to let go of him.

“Yeah…”

He wanders his hand on her side, down to her hips, then back up to her armpit. Without a word, he runs his fingertip across the hem of her top, scratching his nail on the surface of her breast.

Aurora breathes in and out, then slides her hands on his head, threading her fingers through his curls and scratching his scalp—if only to enjoy the little time that’s left.

“Do you wanna go downstairs?” she asks.

Harry shakes his head.

“We’re not done here yet.”

“We’re not?”

He shakes his head again, then slides his finger through the silky fabric, moving until he bumps on her nipple.

“It’s your turn now,” he says, drawing circles and watching the tip grow perky and rigid.

Aurora’s mouth twitches.

“That’s a nice offer, but… Would it be weird if I said no?”

Harry tenses—she feels it on top of her—and then he withdraws his hand from her chest. Like her skin is on fire and he just burnt himself.

“No, of course not. Sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed—”

“Oh my God,” Aurora snorts, then finds his hand and places it back on her breast. “Relax. I’m just really happy right now. And I feel good. So I just… I don’t know. I want to enjoy this a little bit longer, like this. With you. That’s all.”

She spreads his fingers open, encouraging him to fully touch her, then moves her hand back to the back of his hair—where she decided they belong now.

“Don’t stop touching me, tho. Feels good when you touch me.”

He brushes his thumb up and down, caressing the side of her boob.

And Aurora feels the way he smiles, the way his cheeks move and the way his body relaxes. The way he feels heavier. The way he melts on top of her.

But then, he says nothing.

And as time goes by, only the birds and the ocean create a soundtrack to cover their silence. Plates click somewhere, and at some point a couple of voices finally make it to her ears.

Still, none of them move.

And none of them say a word.

“Are you awake?” Aurora whispers.

Harry nods. Once.

“Mhm.”

She closes her eyes, and brushes the back of his head.

Feels his hair between her fingers.

Feels his breathing on her chest.

Feels the up and down of his stomach matching her own.

“You got so quiet…”

Harry hums.

“I know.”

“Why? What’s on your mind?”

“What you said… Felt good to hear. So I’m replaying it over and over again.”

Aurora smiles.

“What, exactly, are you replaying over and over?”

“I’m just really happy right now,” he says. “And, I want to enjoy this a little bit longer with you. Also, feels good when you touch me.”

Heat spreads through her cheeks, and she squeezes her eyes shut even tighter.

“God… So apparently your cheesiness is contagious, after all.”

Harry chuckles, his body shaking on top of hers.

“For what it’s worth, I’m really happy, too. Gross. But happy.”

Aurora snorts.

“Seriously, I need a shower.”

“I mean, you just came in your pants so… Yeah. I figure you do.”

He lifts his head, and Aurora tilts her chin down.

Their eyes meet.

“I did, huh? Because of you.”

She rolls her eyes.

Harry keeps going.

“You made me cum in my pants. In thirty seconds. Like a horny teenager.”

At that, she laughs.

Probably louder than she should, though, so she widens her eyes and brings her hand to cover her mouth.

Harry smirks.

“You made me cum, with that hand.”

“Oh my God,” she breathes out, laughing even more. “Really? This one?”

She takes her hand to his face and slides it from his forehead to his chin.

Harry holds her wrist, keeping her palm in front of his mouth.

“Mhm.” He kisses her, then speaks against her skin. “This beautiful, wonderful, ethereal hand.”

Aurora shakes her head, but she also brushes her thumb, caressing the top of his lips.

After a moment, she sighs and says, “I should get dressed. Don’t want people to see me like this.”

Harry furrows his brows. “What’s wrong with this?”

She shrugs, dropping her hand to her chest.

“Just… Kinda shows off a lot, doesn’t it?”

He looks down, scanning as much as he can without moving.

And then he looks up.

“Not enough, to be honest.”

She smiles, and rolls her eyes.

“Well, I won’t feel comfortable if any of the boys see me wearing this, so…”

Harry nods.

“So…” he repeats.

“We should probably go downstairs.”

“We should, yes.”

“You should take a shower.”

“And you should change your clothes.”

“Exactly.”

“Yep…”

They hold each other’s stares.

Firmly. Deeply.

Unabatingly.

Wholeheartedly.

“Just so you know,” he finally says, “this isn’t how I planned things to go between us.”

Aurora raises her brows.

“Really? You mean you didn’t plan on coming to Italy and convincing me to watch the sunrise, then getting a hand job from me, on a yacht, at six am?”

Harry’s mouth curls up. “Jesus. Not even in my wildest dreams I thought I would ever be this lucky.”

Aurora snorts, then playfully smacks her hand on his shoulder.

“Shut up.”

“No, I mean it, tho. I’m happy, but if we go back downstairs and for any reason this ends up being the last chance I get to be with you, I’ll never forgive myself.”

She flinches her chin back, eyebrows furrowing. “Why?”

“You didn’t finish.”

“Oh…” She nods. And then shrugs. “Well, it was my choice, tho. You offered.”

“No, I know, still… Kinda feel like an asshole.”

“Don’t. I really enjoyed it. Everything. I swear.”

Harry sighs, and a crease appears in the middle of his forehead. Without a word, he wanders his eyes around her face, as if checking for any indication of a different answer—which she knows he won’t find, because she means what she’s saying.

“Hey,” she says, taking both hands to the back of his neck. “I mean it, okay? Don’t worry about that. Besides, isn’t it more exciting like this? Knowing that you kind of owe me?”

He raises his eyebrows and moves back up, hovering her face with his.

“I kind of owe you, huh?”

Aurora nods.

“You do. So, y’know, we kind of have something to look forward to…”

“Right. That being, an orgasm.”

“Exactly.”

Harry smirks, then smiles, then chuckles.

He leans down and kisses her—one, two, three, four, five times. The same cute, little mwah, mwah, mwah from before echoing loudly inside her.

“God you’re amazing.”

Mwah.

“Can’t wait,”

—mwah—