#harry styles slow burn

[1982grapejuiceblues]

The Lingering I

Official Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2

The Wrong Pitch Part 3

Summary: In the quiet aftermath of their almost, Harry and Y/N navigate the silence of what wasn’t said. Through unsent drafts, pacing thoughts, and overthought messages, one of them finally reaches out — and the other answers. It isn’t grand. It isn’t dramatic. It’s careful. Intentional. Honest. And it’s enough to change everything.

A/N: AHHHHH These two are back!! I really love this story and the slowburn of it, The Lingering is going to be at least three parts, I have it all written out its just the editing that takes FOREVER. I do it in batches though so thats how I'm able to upload these so quickly! Let me know what you guys think so far!

Warning: Anxiety spiraling / overthinking | Emotional hesitation and vulnerability | Unsent texts and delayed communication | Fear of saying the wrong thing | Internalized self-doubt | Extended emotional tension (but no conflict) | Slow pacing, realism-focused inner monologues | No physical intimacy (just yearning and care)

Word Count: 3.5k

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Saturday — 6:42 p.m. — Y/N’s Flat

Y/N didn’t turn on the lights when she walked in.

She didn’t like the way switches filled the room too fast. There was something about the soft, creeping dusk she preferred — the natural fade of light across her hardwood floor, the dim orange glow of a streetlamp just starting to warm the sidewalk outside her window. It gave her time to land. To figure out who she was again, alone, after being something else in someone else’s company.

She slipped her shoes off one by one, the way she always did — toe to heel, heel to toe — and left them by the door. Her coat slid down her shoulders in a single movement, familiar, practiced, and landed on the hook like it had been trained to return there.

Everything about her flat was warm and quiet and intentionally hers.

Usually, she liked that.

But right now, it felt a little too quiet. A little too much like a place that expected her to think.

She padded into the kitchen and turned on the kettle out of instinct. Not because she wanted tea — not yet — but because she didn’t know what else to do with her hands. She moved slowly, methodically: mug, spoon, tea bag, water. Not committing to it, just lining up the options.

She wasn’t hungry.

She wasn’t tired.

She just felt… untethered.

The moment she sat down on the couch, the silence hit her square in the chest.

It wasn’t harsh. But it was immediate.

The kind of quiet that creeps in when you realize someone else’s presence had taken up more space than you thought. That Harry had taken up space — not just in her periphery, but in her head. Her day. Her body, somehow. Like his voice had carved out a rhythm and her breath was still matching it.

She hated how much she noticed the absence.

She hated even more that it didn’t feel like an absence at all — just a… pause.

A question mark.

She reached for her phone almost reflexively. Unlocked it. Didn’t open anything yet.

She stared at the home screen for a few seconds, as if some app she hadn’t downloaded yet would offer a solution.

Then, slowly, deliberately, she tapped into the message thread.

Harry Styles.

The name felt strange every time she saw it written out. A person who had once been a complete stranger — someone with a name that meant nothing to her, just a man sitting at the wrong table — was now… something else. Undefined. Quietly insistent.

A presence she couldn’t unfeel.

She scrolled up.

Read what she had sent. What he had sent back. The part where it stopped.

Thank you for saying that.

I was scared too.

Still am.

But I’d rather be scared with you than wonder if we missed it.

That last line hit her harder than she expected. Again.

She had read it before. She’d felt it earlier, in the booth, in the quiet between them. But here, in her flat, in the silence of her own space, it felt sharper. Heavier. More true.

And still, she hadn’t answered him.

She opened the keyboard.

Typed:

Are you home?

Deleted it.

Typed:

I haven’t stopped thinking about earlier.

Deleted that, too.

Tried again:

I want to see you again.

Her thumb hovered.

She knew what that meant.

She also knew she couldn’t send it yet.

Backspaced. Cleared the screen. Let her fingers rest over the glass.

What was she doing?

Why was this so hard?

She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, hands clasped around her phone like it might reveal something if she just held it tight enough.

And then she whispered it out loud — just to herself, in the soft, safe dark of her apartment:

“I liked being with you.”

The words surprised her. Not because they were true, but because of how much they meant. How heavy they sounded in her own voice. How simple they were, and yet how deeply they landed.

She rested her phone on the couch beside her. Let her hands fall into her lap. Stared out the window as the last of the daylight bled into blue.

She thought about the way he had looked at her when she walked into the café again.

Not surprised. Not alarmed.

Just… relieved.

Like she had made a choice he hadn’t wanted to ask her to make.

Like he had hoped — quietly, without pressure — that she would come back.

“You already are,” she had told him, when he said he wanted to show up.

That sentence had stayed with her all the way home. It was still here now, in the room, in her hands, in her mouth like a thing she might say again if he were sitting beside her.

But he wasn’t.

And she didn’t know when he would be.

Or if she’d be brave enough to ask.

7:09 p.m. — Harry’s Flat

Harry had stared at the same sentence for thirteen minutes.

It wasn’t even a complicated sentence.

It was just the close of a paragraph — something small and transitional. Something that should��ve taken thirty seconds to finish and forget. But instead, it was sitting there like a brick in the middle of the page, daring him to make it sound like he believed it.

He leaned back in his chair and pressed his knuckles against his temples.

Focus.

The cursor blinked at him.

It wasn’t the writing. He could write. Had written better speeches than this one in worse conditions. It was the space he was writing from — the place in his head that felt suddenly unfamiliar. Crowded. Warmer than usual.

Full.

Which was ridiculous. They’d only seen each other again this afternoon. They hadn’t even kissed. Had barely touched. Had said maybe two sentences that could be considered emotionally intimate.

But God, the silence after?

It felt like it carried weight.

He pushed the chair back from the desk, stood up too quickly. Pacing helped. Usually.

He ran a hand through his hair and crossed the room toward the kitchen, trying to remember what he even came in for. Opened the fridge. Closed it again.

There was a time when a quiet Saturday night like this would’ve felt like relief. A long exhale. A moment to recharge.

But tonight, it felt like too much room.

Too much space to think about what he should’ve said when they were standing at her door.

Or what she hadn’t said.

Not in a way that made him second-guess her — he didn’t. He just knew that she was trying. That she was letting herself feel this in real time, and he didn’t want to be the reason she retreated.

He didn’t want to fill the space too quickly. But he didn’t want to leave it empty either.

He opened their text thread again. Not for the first time. Not even for the fifth.

It wasn���t that he expected anything new.

He just wanted to remember the way her words sounded.

Even when they were just black text on a white screen.

“I was scared too.”

“Still am.”

God, that had floored him.

Not because she’d said it — but because of how much he’d believed her.

He hadn’t had that in a long time. Someone honest enough to admit fear, but steady enough to still show up anyway.

He wanted to tell her that. Not poetically. Not dramatically. Just plainly. Just… truthfully.

But every draft he started felt like it leaned too hard in one direction — too casual or too intense. Too soon or too vague. Too much or not enough.

He hated how much he cared about getting the tone right.

He hated how much he wanted to get it right.

He sat back down at the desk. Pulled the laptop toward him. Tried to re-engage with the speech. Something about unity. Shared vision. The usual stuff.

But even those words felt hollow.

He couldn’t stop thinking about her — sitting on her couch right now, probably. Maybe drinking tea. Maybe overthinking this the same way he was.

And maybe she wasn’t.

Maybe she had already moved on from the softness of the afternoon. Maybe he was reading into something that had already cooled.

But then he remembered the look in her eyes when she walked through the café door.

The way she looked at him.

It wasn’t casual.

It wasn’t over.

It was something waiting.

He typed a new message.

Let it sit on the screen.

I’m not going to crowd you.

But I do want to see you again.

Read it. Reread it.

Then deleted it.

Too soon.

Or maybe not soon enough.

He stood up again and rubbed his palms over his face. Walked to the bookshelf. Pulled out the small notebook he kept on the second shelf, tucked behind the short story collections.

It was older. More scribbled than sorted. Just fragments, mostly — moments, half-thoughts, things he couldn’t shake.

He opened to the last blank page and scribbled one sentence.

I don’t want to be afraid of this before it even starts.

Then closed the notebook.

Slid it back into place.

Walked away from the desk and sat on the couch.

He didn’t touch his phone again for a long time.

But he didn’t stop thinking about her, either.

8:14 p.m. — Y/N’s Flat

She hadn’t moved in over twenty minutes.

She was still in her jeans. Still sitting at the edge of the couch. Still staring out the window like something might happen if she just stayed still long enough.

Her tea had gone cold.

She hadn’t touched it.

Didn’t even remember making it.

Everything around her looked the same as it had this morning — the blanket folded neatly at the corner of the couch, the stack of manuscripts on the dining table waiting for her notes, the email inbox she hadn’t opened once.

But she wasn’t the same.

And that realization — as soft and quiet as it was — made her sit up straighter.

She felt unsettled in a way that didn’t have a name. Not anxious, exactly. Not regretful. Just… aware.

Of how much had shifted in such a short span of time.

Of how little it took for someone to take up space again.

And how badly she wanted him to stay in it.

She picked up her phone and stared at the blank message screen.

Typed:

I made it home.

Paused.

Deleted it.

Typed:

I haven’t stopped thinking about the booth.

Deleted.

Then she did what she’d been trying not to do all evening — she opened the notes app. Scrolled past her work drafts. Her to-do lists. Her grocery reminders. Until she found the untitled one from earlier this week.

It was a draft of a message.

One she’d written but never sent.

Dated two days after she left him sitting in that café alone.

I don’t know why I left the way I did.

I panicked.

You were kind and good and you didn’t deserve the silence.

I haven’t stopped thinking about that conversation.

About you.

She read it twice.

Then hit select all.

Deleted it in one tap.

She didn’t want to send him something old.

Not now.

Not after seeing him again. Not after the warmth of the afternoon. Not after the quiet understanding in his eyes that said, You don’t owe me anything, but I’m still here if you want to try.

She opened the thread.

Typed:

Hey.

Waited.

Then added:

I don’t know if I’m doing this right.

Deleted that.

Typed:

Is this still okay?

No, not that either.

She let her hands fall into her lap and stared at the screen for a while.

She thought about what she really wanted him to know.

What wasn’t performative or clever or distant.

What she would say if he were sitting right here, across from her on this couch.

And slowly, carefully, she typed:

I’ve been thinking about earlier.

About how easy it felt.

And how hard that is to find lately.

I don’t know what this is.

Or if I’m supposed to know yet.

But I’d like to keep figuring it out.

With you.

She stared at it.

No emojis. No qualifiers. No softening the landing.

Just truth.

She hit send before she could overthink it.

Then set the phone down, facedown this time, and stood up.

She turned on the light in the hallway.

Went to the kitchen.

Poured out the cold tea.

Started boiling the water again.

She wasn’t going to wait around watching the screen this time.

She already knew she’d hear from him.

8:51 p.m. — Harry’s Flat

Harry was lying on the couch with a record playing low when his phone buzzed.

He almost didn’t check it.

Not because he wasn’t waiting — he was, in the quiet, resigned way people wait for things they know might not come. He’d done it before. Had entire evenings pass with his phone untouched, just to prove to himself that he could.

But this buzz felt different.

It wasn’t the group chat. Not a push notification. Just a single, simple vibration against the wood of the coffee table that made his eyes flick open and settle on the screen.

And then he saw it.

Y/N.

He sat up too fast.

The message preview was just a few words, cut off mid-line — but his chest tightened before he even unlocked the screen.

I’ve been thinking about earlier…

He blinked.

Held his breath.

Opened the thread.

And read.

I’ve been thinking about earlier.

About how easy it felt.

And how hard that is to find lately.

I don’t know what this is.

Or if I’m supposed to know yet.

But I’d like to keep figuring it out.

With you.

It took him three full reads to stop blinking.

Then he exhaled — loud and uneven, like it had been building all day and only now found a way out of his body.

He didn’t move for a long time.

Just held the phone in his hand, let his eyes trace the words over and over. Let himself feel every inch of what she was offering: not certainty, not resolution — but permission.

A beginning.

An opening.

A reach.

His first instinct was to reply immediately.

To give her what she’d given him — honesty, vulnerability, forward motion.

But then the overthinking kicked in.

What tone? What length? Was he allowed to be excited? Should he be measured? Was there a way to say me too without sounding like he’d been waiting by the phone all evening?

Because he had.

But still.

He opened the keyboard.

Typed:

You have no idea how much I needed to hear that.

Paused.

Backspaced.

Tried again:

Me too.

Too short.

Tried:

I’d really like that too.

And I think maybe we don’t have to know yet.

We just have to keep showing up.

He stared at it.

Nodded to himself.

Then, instead of hitting send, he set the phone down beside him and stood up.

He walked to the kitchen.

Opened the cupboard.

Pulled out the tea he had no intention of drinking — just needed to move. Think. Let the weight of her message land.

It wasn’t romantic, not in the sweeping-movie-score kind of way. It was grounded. Measured. Real.

But it meant something.

And the way it made his hands shake a little as he poured water into the kettle — yeah, that meant something too.

Back in the living room, he picked up the phone again.

Read the message again.

Still hit him like a warmth in his chest he didn’t know how to name.

He typed:

Can I see you tomorrow?

Then paused.

Edited:

I know it’s soon.

And I know we said we’d take it slow.

But I think I’d like slow better if you were next to me while we figured it out.

He didn’t overthink this one.

He just hit send.

And leaned back.

And smiled.

Not because he was confident.

But because for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t alone in the wanting.

9:03 p.m. — Y/N’s Flat

Her phone buzzed right as she was pouring the hot water over the tea bag.

It was quiet, almost tentative — like it didn’t want to assume it was important.

But her body stilled anyway.

She reached for it with one hand, the other still holding the kettle mid-pour, and nearly spilled it when she saw his name.

Harry Styles

I know it’s soon.

And I know we said we’d take it slow.

But I think I’d like slow better if you were next to me while we figured it out.

She didn’t breathe for a full second.

Then she exhaled all at once.

The kind of breath that felt like she’d been holding it for days.

She put the kettle down.

Left the mug where it was.

Walked out of the kitchen and back into the living room, phone in both hands, rereading the message over and over.

She smiled.

Then bit her lip.

Then sat down on the couch and tucked her legs under her, trying to figure out why this — this exact combination of words — was hitting her so hard.

It wasn’t flowery.

It wasn’t performative.

It was just… him.

Direct. Earnest. Just vulnerable enough to feel real.

He wasn’t asking her to give him certainty. He was asking to sit in the uncertainty together.

And she wanted that. Badly.

She typed:

You’re very good at this.

Paused.

Backspaced.

Tried:

I think I’d like that too.

No.

She wanted to be sure. She wanted him to feel it.

She typed:

Yes.

I’d really like to see you tomorrow.

And I think you’re right.

Slow might feel less terrifying if it’s next to you.

She stared at it. Her fingers trembled a little.

But this time, she didn’t doubt it.

She hit send.

Then she dropped the phone in her lap and just sat there.

Let herself feel how good it was to say yes to something that didn’t demand her to be perfect — just present.

A minute later, her phone buzzed again.

I’ll make the plans.

She didn’t even realize she was smiling until she saw her reflection in the window — soft, lit by the glow of the lamp behind her, eyes tired but bright in a way she hadn’t seen in a while.

Okay, she thought.

This is something.

Let it be something.

Sunday — 9:03 a.m. — Y/N’s Flat

Y/N woke up before her alarm.

Not with a jolt, not in a panic. Just… aware. Like her body had been keeping time without her.

She stayed under the blanket for a few minutes longer than usual, watching the light crawl in through the window. It was that kind of golden pale that made everything look like a film still. Like the city was trying to convince her to say yes to things before she could think of reasons not to.

And for once, she didn’t try to talk herself out of it.

9:17 a.m. — Harry’s Flat

Harry stood at his kitchen counter, eating toast he hadn’t meant to make.

He kept glancing at the clock like he was going to be late for something, even though there was nothing scheduled. Nothing formal. Just a maybe. A sometime today.

But it felt like a thing he didn’t want to miss.

He’d already checked the weather (mild, clear, cool breeze). Already shaved. Changed his shirt twice. Put on the one that didn’t look like he was trying, even though he definitely was.

He didn’t know where they were going yet — not exactly. He just knew he wanted it to feel easy. Low pressure. Like an extension of the café booth, but out in the world.

Like something real.

10:14 a.m. 

Do you trust me to pick somewhere?

As long as there’s coffee involved.

I’d never disrespect you like that.

Then yes. I trust you.

That last part wasn’t just about the coffee.

She hoped he knew that.

She had a feeling he did.

11:08 a.m. — Somewhere on the Northern Line

They weren’t meeting in the city proper. That had been a conscious choice on Harry’s part. He figured a smaller street, a quieter café, fewer things pulling at their attention — it might give them space to just… be.

He had no idea if it was the right call.

But when he got off the train and stepped out into the soft, sun-filtered morning, he felt like it might be.

He adjusted the bag on his shoulder, checked his phone again.

No new texts.

But she was coming.

That was enough.

11:26 a.m.

She saw him first.

He was leaning against the wall just outside the café entrance, phone in hand, one ankle crossed casually over the other like he was built for waiting. Like he didn’t mind it.

She stopped just short of being in his line of vision.

Took one second.

Then walked forward.

He looked up just as she reached him.

And smiled in that small, surprised way — like something he’d been hoping for had just appeared in front of him.

“Hi,” she said, soft.

“Hi,” he replied, quieter still.

[harrywavycurly]

Worth the Fight: A Harry Styles Series

Summary: A one night stand turns into more than you bargain for when you find yourself pregnant after drunkenly hooking up with Harry Styles after a few too many rounds at a karaoke bar. You don't really know him and he doesn't know a lot about you minus the fact your cat really just doesn't like him, but the one thing you quickly learn is boy can you two argue. This series is all about how you and Harry navigate going from strangers to soon to be parents all while trying not to kill each other in the process and maybe see what these weird feelings that develop along the way are all about.✨

Pairing: Harry Styles x pregnant!reader

Trope: Enemies to lovers (with a twist because it's like lovers to enemies back to lovers?), slow burn baby so buckle up.

CW: Mentions of a lot pregnancy/baby things, language, Harry's a bit of a dick, possessive behavior, jealous behavior, angst.

Tag List: Open just let me know if you'd like on it.

Story Type: This series is a mixture of texts and one shots, I think it'll be fun to see a a good mix!

Extras: Here

Update Schedule: Once A Week✨

Part 1: Late for What?

Part 2: City of Love

Part 3: Reviews

Part 4: A Little Treat

Part 5: Mr. Popular

Part 6: Places of Peace

Part 7: Swoon Worthy

Part 8: Good Hands

Part 9: Civil extra: Harry’s convo with Niall here

Part 10: Smells Good

Part 11: Bad Energy

Part 12: It’s Just Cake

Part 13: Comes in Waves

Part 14: I’m Just a Librarian

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

Wonderful World - Part 16^

Sorry it's taken me forever, I appreciate your patience! No warnings for this one, the only angst is just about Diana & Harry's sadness for not being able to be together.

Series Masterlist!

WC: 11.5k

Celeste was more than excited to be at band camp for the next four weeks. Her first few days were a bit weird as she was adjusting; the mattresses on the bunk beds were too hard and the actual structures would creak if you moved around too much. The nights were a lot colder than she anticipated, so she was glad her mom had forced her to pack two sweatshirts. She’d never had to use a communal shower before and it had been a very different experience as some of the older girls were so confident in just walking around in their underwear or weren’t all that self-conscious about their boobs showing for a second before putting on their bras or tops. She and Geri had been so good about making little changing rooms for each other out of their towels and even would wear cover-ups despite their (one-piece bathing suits) on the days they’d get to use the pool. Ben didn’t seem to mind it though, he always seemed excited to see her during the free activities time and they’d have plenty to talk about after their instrument lessons. And now, they were sat around the camp fire, some people were playing and singing songs right up front. She had chosen a seat closer to the back with Geri, Ozzy, Ben, and a couple more kids from their school.

She and Ozzy were currently singing along to “Just the Way You Are” when Ben came up with a plate of s’mores for their small group. Everyone took one before he sat down beside her and laughed softly.

“You’ve got marshmallow all over your chin.” He said and she groaned and rubber her hand along it, feeling the little strings being rolled into little crumbs with the friction.

“Thanks.” She said and he nodded before biting into his own deliciously melty treat.

She continued singing along with Ozzy who then encouraged her to join the choir at school next year and she immediately declined. Ben also encouraged her, telling her she sang really well and she was all bashful as she shook off his compliment. They hadn’t really held hands directly in front of her friends before, but they really wanted to and kept exchanging these looks that were making her tummy flutter in the best way. The continued making conversation as a group, but she was moving further into Ben’s side. Not only because she was cold, but because she just wanted to be near him. When Geri and Ozzy started talking to one of their other friends from the brass section Ben immediately turned to her.

“So how has your first week been?” He asked softly.

“Really good. I like my teachers, our camp counselor is also really cool with us, she’s a music major in college. I didn’t know you could do that.” She said and Ben also looked surprised at this as they got to talking even more. He also shared about his own week and about the friends he’d made with his cabin-mates and all the while they were just slowly being sucked into their own little world.

Celeste literally felt like there were currents of electricity constantly traveling through her body when Ben would smile. She felt floaty and like her heart would leap out of her chest when his leg would lightly brush hers. She was getting impatient to have more of him and so she just interrupted a story he was telling her to ask him her question.

“M’sorry to interrupt you, but can I ummm…can I hold your hand?” She asked in the smallest voice and his smiled went wide.

“Yes, of course.” He responded to her eagerly and soon their hands were connected as their fingers intertwined into each others on her lap and she smiled up at him happily before nuzzling into his side to stay warm, “Y’smell really nice.” He hummed and she moved away to look up at him.

“Yeah? You like it?” She asked and he nodded with a timid smile, “OK.” She smiled before nestling back into his side. Suddenly a gust of wind came and everyone groaned and whinged and she buried herself closer to him.

“Hold on.” Ben hummed and released her hand before shrugging off the wind breaker he had on, “Let me give you my crewneck, this other jacket is pretty warm.” He said and she smiled at him bashfully.

“Are you sure?” She asked and he nodded.

“Yeah, of course.” He insisted and stood to tear off his crewneck. He did have a shirt on underneath it, so he was layered enough to stay warm, while she was just in a long-sleeved shirt that she had packed by pure coincidence because her sweaters were dirty after being worn all week.

“Thank you so much.” She hummed as he helped her get it on, they both giggled as she struggled to find the arm hole.

“Here, I’ve got it.” He smiled and held it out for her to get her arm through.

“Thanks.” She said as she glanced up at him, he was so close and there was a new and tense flinging between them as they just looked into each other’s eyes.

“Celeste, do you want to come to the bathroom with us?” One of the girls sitting with their group asked, causing her to turn around and break eye contact with Ben.

“Yes, actually!” She said with a smile and then turned around with a big smile, “I’ll be right back.” She said to Ben and he nodded before he watched her scurry off with Geri and the other girl, Sierra. He then turned to Ozzy and sighed.

“Oz, do you think Celeste’s mom would let her date?” He asked and Ozzy smiled.

“Ummm, I think so? Miss Beltran is pretty cool.” He shrugged and Ben nodded.

“OK.” 

“So you like her a lot?” Ozzy asked. He was protective of Celeste and Geri, they had been friends since the fourth grade and he just wanted to make sure that no one would be messing with their feelings.

“Yeah, I do. I want to get to know her a bit more over camp and hopefully by the time we get back there’s been enough of that to be able to ask her to be my girlfriend.” He explained and this made Ozzy happy for Celeste, especially after the year she’d had.

“What made you like her?” He asked and Ben smiled.

“Well after what…happened to her at school,” he started and Ozzy nodded with a slight frown, “I saw her being nice to the girl that had been bullying her one time by the practice rooms.” He explained, “And I just thought that was really cool of her and then when she came with your group to the dance I knew she was being for real about being nice to her. My brother’s girlfriend’s sister is in her friend group and I heard they basically unfriended her when she came out to them.” He said and Ozzy nodded in confirmation, “But like after everything she did to Celeste I think she kind of deserved it, you know? But it was just really cool to see her not stoop to that level. I have older sisters as well so I’ve seen and heard a lot of the girl drama and how petty they can be towards each other. Like I know it can get pretty bad, so it was nice to see she’s not like that and that was what made me like her more. I mean apart from her being so…fucking beautiful….” He confessed nervously and Ozzy smiled. “You’ve never liked either of your friends?” Ben asked.

“I mean I think they’re both pretty, and well, I did have a crush on Celeste in middle school.” He admitted, “But it went away really fast because I got a bit closer to Geri since we had more periods together and started liking her.” He said, “But I think I was more afraid to lose them as friends and then when we got to high school I started going out with a girl from choir after I asked her to homecoming, but I don’t really see them like that anymore. They’re more like sisters to me now.” He explained and Ben nodded in understanding.

“Well you’re a good friend for looking out for them, Oz.”

“Thanks. I mean, they look out for me just as much, so it’s nice when the friendships aren’t one-sided.” He smiled and Ben nodded in agreement.

“Well I just see how close you guys are and I just want you to know that if Celeste does want to go out with me I don’t want to like…just take her away from you guys. I mean, hopefully we can all get to know each other and be friends as well. Like I know we’re cool, but like I’ve kind of seen how my older sister kind of forgot about us after getting a boyfriend and now she never visits from college.” He chuckled, “Like I get that when you like someone that much you want to be around them all the time, but like I think it’s also not cool to just abandon everyone over a boyfriend or girlfriend, so I just wanted you to know that.” Ben said and Ozzy thanked him for seeing that and being mindful of it.

The two continued talking about more things as they got to know each other a bit better until the girls came back and soon Celeste was back beside Ben, fingers intertwined as they started to tell spooky stories around the campfire. 

***********

Diana’s week had been miserable, she was kind of happy that Celeste had forgotten about her for the last couple of days because she had spent them in bed mostly, nursing her aching heart. She would only climb out and sleek her hair back into a haphazard bun for her online lectures. She had forgone makeup, even her mascara, for the whole week which was a huge deal because she always put in some sort of effort, but she just didn’t have the capacity at the moment.

Diana hadn’t felt this kind of sadness and disappointment in years. She had recently felt like she had been able to fully accept and move on from Wesley and what had happened to him and now this? It wasn’t fair and for the sake of transparency, it depressed her. She felt like she was destined to be alone. And this whole time her emotions had been swelling as she watched “Comet”, this film always did the job…right person, wrong time, the what if’s, the squandered possibilities…she couldn’t hold her tears back anymore and she just started to sob as she watched the characters on screen accept defeat. She knew their kind of pain, she understood the way he looked at her with such hopelessness, but there was still a hint of happiness because the person he loved had found what they’d both been looking for…it ruined her and perpetuated her pain and it felt so good to just sob loudly and feel the pangs of hurt pulsing through her pains, making her clutch to the long sleeves of her crewneck tightly before she just brought one up and wiped under her nose without a care in the world for it being gross. She couldn’t even see her screen from how many tears were blurring her vision, and suddenly she regretted even indulging in a comfort meal because her stomach was twisting from how gut-wrenching the pain of a failed love felt as the credits rolled.

“So fucking stupid…” she muttered to herself as she shoved the covers off of her body and made her way into the bathroom to pee, “It’s not like I haven’t seen the fucking movie a bajillion times…” she whispered to herself as she blew her nose in the meantime. When she got up to the vanity to wash her hands she looked at her reflection and felt so fucking pathetic about it all. And then her doorbell started ringing and she groaned and dried her hands before getting her slippers on and rushing downstairs in her dark home. The sun had just set, so there was some visibility, but it was dwindling quickly. And when she looked through the peephole and saw Grace looking all cute and dressed up she groaned and quickly swung the door open. “I’m so sorry I totally forgot about our plans.” She said immediately and Grace frowned a bit as she took in her best friend’s appearance.

Diana was hardly one to be messy and disheveled, but here she was looking a total wreck, something akin to when they first met, at that time Diana was working two jobs, going to school full-time, caring for a 9 month old baby, and still grieving her first love. Understandably, she was a wreck. Grace’s featured softened as she took in her friend and just stepped forward and hugged her tight, which led Diana to break down once again.

“I’m OK. I’m OK. I’m OK.” She whispered over and over as she stayed in her embrace. Grace had no idea if she was saying this to appease her or herself and it made her heart break for her as she pulled back to look into her tearful and swollen eyes.

“Yeah, you will be.” She said to her and Diana just nodded before sniffling.

“Please, just go without me. I’m not even ready and like, as much as I wish I could get drunk, I don’t think I have the energy to be at the bar right now.” She said and Grace offered a kind smile.

“Yeah, I get that. How about we bring the bar to you?” She asked and Diana sighed.

“Don’t ruin your night for me…” she assured and Grace nodded.

“We’re not ruining it, s’just a little modification to the plan. We can go and get changed into something more casual, pick up some food and some alcohol, make drinks, play some games? Maybe even have a sleep over if you’re cool with that?” She suggested, “We’ll be back in an hour or so, give you some time to mentally prepare for company and to freshen up.” She said and Diana sniffled.

“If we’re doing a sleepover why do I need to freshen up?” She mumbled as she wiped at her teary eyes with her sleeve.

“I love you so much so I’ll be honest with you.” She said and Diana sniggered through her sniffles, “Your hair reeks of dry shampoo and you’ve got snot all over your sleeve, and about three different stains on your sweater so I know you’ve gotten at least a week’s worth of use out of this guy.” She said tugging at the fabric of her crewneck and Diana started to laugh softly as Grace smiled at her friend.

“S’my emotional support crewneck.” She excused and Grace smiled, “And showering just seemed really hard, m’sorry.” 

“You don’t have to apologize, Di. I mean, at least you don’t smell like B.O. or ass.” She said and that made the two laugh again, “So what do you say to the change of plans, hmmm?”  She asked and after contemplating it for a moment Diana nodded.

“Yeah, could use some company.” She said and Grace nodded.

“OK.”

“Also, please let Henry know that he absolutely does not need to be part of this. I’m sure he’s been dealing with Harry as well.” She said and Grace’s smile dropped a bit.

“Ummm, actually we haven’t really spoken to him since the whole voicemail thing. He said he needed some time or something and apparently he moved up his vacation and flew back to England for a couple weeks.” She said and Diana frowned a bit.

“Oh, well I hope he’s doing OK.” She said softly.

“Yeah, me too.” She said. And after finalizing their plans Grace headed off and Diana immediately headed to the kitchen to take out her garbage and also wash the dishes that had been collected there over the week and then she hurried up to have a shower.

Everything was more or less back in order by the time Grace and Henry got back honestly, she had a great time with the two. They played the What Do You Meme game, which had them all in stitches and then played a drinking game as they watched a TV show and honestly, it had definitely helped to life her spirits. In her drunkenness she sent a short vide to Celeste of the three of them together being silly and playfully scolding her for not texting her for the last couple of days and then they ended up texting back and forth for a bit before it was “lights out” for Celeste. 

They all went to bed around 1:30am quite drunk off their asses, but when Diana woke up a couple hours later, throat feeling absolutely dry and body aching from drinking while dehydrated she quietly rolled out of bed and quietly made her way downstairs. She squinted when she saw that the kitchen light was already on and she heard some hushed talking, it was Henry. She crept down lower and decided to eavesdrop because this might be the only news she’d get about Harry. She assumed it was Harry because who else would be in a timezone that required Henry to be on a phone call at nearly 4am. She was now standing quietly around the corner as she heard him humming as he listened to whatever was being said.

“Well I get why you might need a little distance from here right now, H. But I just want to remind you that everything’s still gonna be here when you come back, you know? Like if you’re going to continue seeing Celeste you’ll still have to face Diana…you’re having an existential crisis over Diana?” He asked and then went silent again, “Wait. Hold on, hold on, hold on… Rebecca’s pregnant?” Henry asked in shock and this made Diana’s stomach sink and for a lump to form in her throat. She couldn’t help it when she hurried into the kitchen with shock in her eyes.

“Rebecca’s pregnant?” Diana asked with a frown and tearful eyes, as soon as Henry heard her, he whipped around.

“Shit. H, I have to call you back…yes, it’s her. I’ll call you back!” He said before hanging up and hurrying to Diana as her tears started to trickle down her cheeks, “S’not what it sounds like.” He said right away and she shook her head.

“I think that’s exactly what it sounds like, Henry…” she said as she walked past him and to the fridge to grab a water bottle.

“Well Rebecca being pregnant yes, but it has nothing to do with Harry, he hasn't done anything to his vasectomy." he assured her, "She’s having a baby with Eddie, they’re engaged.” He explained and that made relief flood through her body and she literally felt her body relax.

“Oh.” She said and Henry smiled at her just a bit, “Nearly had a heart attack. I’m sorry for eavesdropping, I just came to get some water.” She explained herself.

“It’s alright.” He said softly and they both glanced down to his phone on the counter as a surge texts started coming in. “Shit, I think I freaked him out. Shouldn’t have said it was you.” He said as he reached for it and she sighed as she opened up the water bottle and drank as Henry started texting away, assuring Harry that he had clarified the information to Diana. “He said that he’s having an existential crisis over you and that whole thing with Rebecca. Says they ran into each other at a pizza parlor and decided to catch up. He was caught off guard because she had been so strict about them following her timeline and whatnot that like it makes him wonder if maybe she just didn’t really want anything serious with him. And that after having that conversation with you about things not working out it just made him feel a bit hopeless about his own future and he just wanted to go distract himself for a bit.” He said as he read Harry’s texts to her.

“Yeah, I get that.” She said as she set the water bottle down after closing it. She watched as he glanced down at his phone as it chimed softly again, indicating another text had come in and he saw his eyes soften a bit as he read over the words but decided not to tell her anything about that one and he just started texting back quickly before his eyes met hers again.

“That one was for you, but I don’t think it’ll help to hear what he said.” Henry explained and she bit her lip to suppress her frown and she nodded.

“Just don’t tell him how big of a wreck I’ve been, OK? Don’t want him to feel bad or like it’s his fault.”

“Yeah, don’t worry.” He assured and she sighed. “I feel so stupid for just…continuing on, pretending like we ever had a chance, you know?”

“If it helps, he feels the same. He feels more responsible because he feels like he lied to you and gave you false hopes since he knew the risks the whole time. I think he wants you to be angry at him for it, for keeping that from you.”

“I can’t be angry at him for that…it wouldn’t be fair, we both know better.” She said quietly. “Celeste was telling me that she hopes he can be her therapist for as long as he can, kind of like how I’ve been with my own therapist.” She explained, “And like…I’m really scared that I’m gonna love him forever and always be… like this.” She said and he frowned.

“I mean…if that’s the case with Celeste then maybe there’ll be someone else for each of you?” He suggested with hope and she smiled politely.

“Maybe…” She responded unenthusiastically because she didn’t want that. She wanted the way he made her feel. She wanted the way he loved her and appreciated her. She wanted the love and care he had for Celeste. She didn’t want anyone else, she wanted him. 

“I know that it must hurt, but you’re doing the right thing, the hard thing. You’re so strong, Diana-”

“You know, I’m so sick of hearing that, Henry. I’m tired of being strong.” She said to him, “I’m tired of always hurting. I’m tired of having to be the brave one and of having to think of others before myself all the fucking time…I’ve just…I’ve been losing for so long.” Her voice cracked as her tears started to fall down her cheeks, “It’s not fair.” She whispered and Henry frowned as he saw her facade completely crumble, “I don’t know how long I can go on like this.” She inhaled sharply, “I can’t even talk to my fucking therapist about this without risking Harry losing his job…” she said as she gasped for air through her tears, “Like it’s just so, so lonely.” She whimpered and he just put his phone down and hugged her tight wordlessly. 

Henry didn’t know what to do except to just hold her. There really was nothing to say, she was giving and giving and giving and never getting anything in return and the moment someone was starting to give back it had to blow up in her face. He knew that Harry loved her and that he loved Celeste. And somehow, this was all in her little 15-year-old hands, but she had no idea and well, how could they ask Celeste to just change her dynamic with Harry when he had been of an immense support to her as her therapist. If they were to become a family their dynamic wouldn’t be the same, it would change drastically and of course they couldn’t ask that of her. And it’s not like Harry and Diana planned to fall for each other, like all of the perfect things in life, it just happened effortlessly. 

“God, we were barely anything…this is ridiculous. Doesn’t warrant this reaction.” She said as she reached up to wipe at her tears and he pulled back from their hug. He wanted to tell her that what she and Harry felt for each other was the real thing, but he didn’t. Sometimes you just have to tell yourself things like that in order to cope better with the loss of it, so he didn’t say anything about it. “Thank you for listening to me.” She finally said and he nodded, “Sorry for interrupting your call with Harry.” She sniffled.

“S’alright, he gets it.” Henry assured and she smiled lightly.

“Alright, m’gonna go back to bed, but thank you again for staying over with Grace and trying to cheer me up, I need to get that meme game for Celeste.” She said and he chuckled.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get one for her for Christmas.” He said and she chuckled.

“You know, she’s really lucky to have you guys.” Diana exhaled, “As am I.” She said with a small smile before she made her way back upstairs.

**********

Harry was a completely nervous wreck as he waited for Henry to get back to him after what Diana had walked in on. He hoped that Henry was sharing the information he had been texting him with her so that all of the information about what was going on was clear. He stopped texting back after a few minutes and his knee was bouncing up and down impatiently as he waited for something else to come in from Henry. He was on the brink of a nervous breakdown, but thankfully the door to the office he had been occupying opened up slightly and he saw Enid, the main receptionist from his parents’ clinic peek inside.

“Mr. Styles, your parents just got in.” She informed with a kind smile and he nodded.

“Oh, great. Thanks, Enid.” he said and she just smiled politely before backing out and shutting the door. He texted Henry that he didn’t have to call back and that he’d catch up with him another day.

Harry’s parents had been speaking at a conference in Austria when he dropped in on them, so he’d been using one of the empty offices to conduct his sessions online since he had left rather abruptly. He just needed some distance between him and Diana, especially since he knew that she lived 10 minutes away at the most and was all alone since Celeste had left for camp (he’d texted her to wish her good luck). He just wanted to see Diana and hear her voice, look into her eyes, hold her…he had to go because he clearly had no resolve when it came to her. And now he’d been here for a few days and his parents were finally back. They were going to have lunch. So he closed his laptop and grabbed his phone and wallet before locking up the office and heading to his mother’s office first.

“Hey mum.” He said as he peeked in to see her logging in to her computer. She glanced up and smiled wide.

“Hi, my darling!” She greeted happily, immediately standing up and he hurried in and wrapped her smaller frame up in his arms. “How’ve you been?” She asked as she smushed her cheek against his and then reared back to look into his eyes.

“Ummm, alright I suppose.” He hummed with a smile, but as she looked into his eyes her smile dropped a bit and he was about to give her a small scolding for trying to read him like one of her clients (because they all had a rule about this), but thankfully they were interrupted by his father.

“H!” He greeted enthusiastically and Harry turned quickly and stepped into his father’s embrace.

“Dad, look at this!” Harry chuckled at his father’s new hair style, it was longer and slightly slicked back. He looked a lot more relaxed and causal than he usually did.

“Do you like it?” He asked and before Harry could let him know that he did indeed like this look on him, his mother chimed in.

“Of course he’s gonna say he likes it! But you need to snap out of this phase, Bill.”

“Phase?” Harry asked and she sighed.

“You haven’t told him, Bill?” She asked and he pouted a bit and turned to his dad who had the most unamused expression on his face.

“Heather, you’re talking about me like I’ve got a terminal illness.” He said with a slight scowl and Harry relaxed upon hearing his dad say this. He always had that fear in the back of his head since he was hardly ever around them, and maybe this reinforced the idea he always had of being more intentional of spending more time with his parents. He had no intention of ever moving back to England, but he could do more to nurture the relationship with his parents, they weren’t getting any younger.

“Well it might as well be if you’re not careful!” She warned and Harry chuckled at their bickering.

“So what is the phase?” He asked his dad with a grin.

“I’ve joined a bike club-”

“It’s a motorcycle gang!” His mother cut in and he and his dad chuckled at her exaggeration.

“It is not…and it’s not a phase, it’s a hobby.” he tutted and Harry smirked, “I thought it was neat when you tried it out and so I started to learn. It has helped though, s’given me something to do other than work. I’m trying to reduce the stress, don’t want to be taking too many medications.” He explained and Harry nodded. 

“Well that’s great, dad! It’s nice you’re doing something for yourself.” Harry assured, “I haven’t ridden since university, but maybe we can have a little trek up North or even just to Brighton while I’m here?” He suggested and his father nodded.

“Yes, son. I’d really enjoy that.” He assured and Harry nodded.

“We’ll plan something.” 

“Well, apart from that news…” he said, “I wanted to drop in really quickly because I was asked, quite at the last minute, to join a panel for culturally inclusive mental health training and I think it’s rather important I go, so it’ll just be you and mum for lunch.” He said and Harry nodded.

“Yeah, of course. Sounds important.”

“Very much so.” He agreed and so they all made small talk as they made their way out. His mum had their driver take them to the restaurant they would be eating at, well really it was a pub that admittedly was his family’s guilty pleasure, they had the best classics. So as they sat there eating away Harry’s mum was trying to bring up that look in his eyes as discretely as possible.

She knew that Harry loved her and his dad, but when he was growing up, their clinics started to grow exponentially and unprecedentedly and so she knew that they didn’t spend a lot of time with each other. That always weighed so heavily on their hearts because as psychologists of their caliber, they knew what children needed to flourish. And while they had given Harry everything they could to ensure he would be a well rounded and healthy individual, they just weren’t all that close on a personal level. The evidence was in the fact that he lived in another country, but he was successful there and happy. Well except now, something was on his heart and on his mind, she could see it and she wanted to help, but she had no idea if she even had the right to ask without him thinking that she was just prying or trying to psychoanalyze him.

“Darling, I’ve got to ask.” She said and he looked up from his plate, “Why are you here?” She asked and he smiled a bit.

“Well, I always visit you two in the summer-”

“Right, but you weren’t due here for another two weeks. I know you think that I’m mostly unaware of half the things on my calendar, but I always know when you’re coming for a visit.” She said and he smiled.

“I just…missed you.” He said and she sighed.

“Sweetheart, I’m sure you did, as much as we have missed you, but I know that’s not it.” She said and his smile faltered a bit.

“It’s nothing serious. Just needed a little break.” He assured and she sighed.

“H, listen. I know that when you were younger your dad and I weren’t always available for you. And trust me, I really wish someone had shown me that I can be both a good mum and a great doctor-”

“You’re an incredible mum-”

“Leaving you with nannies hardly constitutes good parenting…I wasn’t there for you like I should’ve been, especially when we finally had the means to.” she said with a small frown and he reached for her head. “So why should you even trust me now?” She questioned.

“No mum, don’t say that. I get why you and dad had to do what you did, you’ve helped a lot of people!”

“Yet the most important person, our only son, chose to live and ocean and a country away from us.” She said and he sighed.

“That was more about me than you. I never fit in with the people here, mum. It wasn’t because of you and dad, I mean…did you inspire me to be able to just do my own thing, of course! But I wasn’t trying to avoid you two.” He assured her.

“So why are you trying to avoid me now?” She asked and he chuckled, “Have been since you gave me that look in the office-”

“Mum, we do not psychoanalyze each other.” He reminded and she smiled.

“I’m not being a psychologist right now, H. I just want to listen and be here for you as your mum.” She said and he bit his lip, “I can see that you’re…hurting. And I just want you to know that if…it was something that you needed help with or wanted to talk about, you can trust me with it. I want to be here for you and build trust with you. I want to help make it better.” She said tentatively as her eyes met his and he bit his lip to give himself something to think about other than the hurt in his heart. And well, as much as he just wanted to escape from his problems he also felt a tug at his heart to just be vulnerable with his mother. To give her a chance to build trust with him, to build a relationship with her.

“I am hurting a bit.” He admitted and her eyes softened as he admitted this to her.

“Is it something to do with Rebecca?” She asked and his eyebrows arched up in surprise.

“Oh God, I haven’t even told you that we ended things months ago.” He said and his mother pouted, “Yeah…she slept with someone else.” He explained and her eyebrows creased, “Which was fine, I mean turns out we were both settling and I mean, we ended things on really good terms and well also because I was…kind of infatuated with someone else and I…ended up falling in love with her.” He explained, “But ummm, that’s not going to work out.” He said softly and she nodded with a sad look in her eyes.

“I see. And why is that?” She asked and he sighed.

“She’s ummm…” he chuckled dryly, hoping that she wouldn’t flip out on him. Sure she had said she was listening as a parent, not a professional, but this was pretty bad, “She’s a patient’s mum.” He said and her eyes widened a bit and there were a few moments of silence as he watched her mull over his words. And he was expecting a disappointed look or sigh before he got a proper talking to but it never came.

“Oh…” was all his mother said in surprise and he nodded.

“Trust me, I know…” he groaned quietly, “Her name is Diana.” He said and she nodded, urging him to go on, “It was literally one of those things that just happened to me absolutely involuntarily…when I looked into her eyes for the first time I just…knew that I was fucked.” He said with a genuine smile on his face and she smiled as she watched him light up as he recalled the moment he met this person. “She felt it too -er…feels it.” He explained, “We tried to…only make it about business but life just kept throwing us into the same paths. Like her best friend doesn’t believe in relationships, but then ended up dating Henry and they’re like madly in love! And she’s a professor at the university I was asked to teach at…Like we were so interconnected and it was so inevitable.” He said and she nodded as she listen. “And ummm, we told each other we loved each other and then we were going on our first date and like started talking about the outcomes of us pursuing a relationship and like I explained to her that if the wrong person found out I could…lose everything and when she learned that she just, put me first. Like she always does for others.”

“And her child?”

“Her name is Celeste, she’s just turned 15. They came to me because she was being severely bullied at school.” He explained and she frowned “She’s the most smart and talented girl! She’s so clever and so mature and just so open minded. I learn just as much from her than she does from me.” He gushed and his mum smiled at his excitement, “I ummm…I love her too and obviously, it’s impacted the way I work with her.” He said more solemnly, “And like…Diana is such a wonderful mother to her. She’s done such a great job and like I’ve been able to see pieces of me and of Diana in Celeste and I just…feel so proud of her, but I want to do right by them both. Specially Celeste, with her being a patient of mine. So far, I think I’ve been objective, but it’s getting harder to be. I just…can’t help but feel stupid for allowing this to happen. Like I should have stopped it from the start. I knew better.”

“Right, but the heart wants what it wants, H.”

“Evidently so.” He hummed with a small smile. “Her daughter is also really averse to her dating yet. She’s afraid to lose her mum and she’s also afraid to lose me and like…I can’t betray her trust like that.” He shook his head.

“Well you love her as well don’t you?” She asked and he nodded, “Then maybe tell the girl you love her too and that it’s getting harder to just treat her like any other patient. At one point that parental instinct is going to take over and it could not only create a rift between you and Celeste, but also between you and Diana. No parents likes to see other people trying to parent their children; it’s just a line that we should never cross. And well, I think she’s a bit anxiously attached to her mother with this fear of losing her. I mean, you can’t possibly be at her every beck and call for the rest of her life, so you also need to make sure that in being there for her you’re not allowing her to create the same attachment with you.” His mother expressed and well, Harry had never even considered that. “I mean, you’ve got to be honest with her because I mean…if it were to go wrong you could really hurt them both.” She said and he nodded.

“I know that, I see that. And like…I’m scared that…everything’s at stake and that I’m gonna lose them both. And I don’t want to lose them. I need them and like…I think they both need me and I would happily be what they needed.” He said and she nodded.

“Yeah, that’s very justified.” She said as some silence came between them, “And just to clarify…what we’re talking about here is the possibility of you…being a father figure to this girl, right?” She asked and he sighed but nodded.

“Yeah.” He confirmed, “I mean…if she’d want that. Well her and Diana.” He explained, “Like…after letting them into my heart I suddenly feel so full. I never realized how much I was just going through the motions before them.” He explained, “And like…when we’ve had the chance to…be together, the three of us,” he said and she nodded, “It just…it feels really good and I know that we’d make a great team.” He smiled and his mum smiled right back at him.

“You mean a great family.” She said and he his cheeks flushed timidly and he shrugged.

“I just don’t like to say it because…if I let it become too real of a hope and it doesn’t happen it’ll crush me. More than now.” He said solemnly and she nodded in understanding.

“I understand.” She said and squeezed his hand a bit. “I mean, it is dangerous ground you’re on, H. But I just…I don’t want you to fall into the same thing your dad and I did. I mean, I’m proud of your drive and work ethic and I am so happy that your practice is doing well-”

“Thanks to my generous investors.” He said and she chuckled.

“That’s our job as your parents, to help you and do what we can to make your dreams come true.” She smiled, “And I wish I could do something to help you with this.” She said and he smiled, “I do want you to have what you’re describing with Diana and Celeste. I think you’d be an incredible father and partner. And I just hope that it works out somehow.” 

“Thanks mum.” He said and she nodded.

“So you’d be a father, but not have babies though?” She asked and he chuckled.

“No…there’s lot of babies out there already.” He explained, “And well, Diana doesn’t want any more kids either.” He said and she smiled.

“So it’s just the one for her?”

“Yeah.”

“Where’s the dad? If I can ask that.” She asked.

“Yeah, of course. He ummm, he died. He was Diana’s first boyfriend, her first love, and they got together their senior year of high school and were going to different colleges and were making the most of their time together.” He explained, “So it was a total accident. But ummm, anyway, a few weeks before they were off to college a drunk driver ran a red light and killed him. She didn’t find out she was pregnant until a few months later.” He explained and his mum frowned with sympathy in her eyes.

“Oh my god, that’s horrible. What about her family?” She asked and well Harry started sharing it all with his mum and they were talking for nearly three hours and he told her everything about Diana. He could feel his heart pounding with excitement at the ability to be able to talk about her as much as he wanted. 

And well, towards the end they did get into the hurt and his feelings about everything, and maybe he did have a few beers with his mum, which he never thought he would, but it was a fun time and he was feeling back to himself for at least a bit. And over dinner with his parents he couldn’t help but imagine Diana and Celeste sitting at the empty seats at the table. He just knew that she and his mum would get along just fine. And well, Harry got his own musical taste and talents from his father, so he could imagine Celeste and his dad learning to play some classic rock songs

 and they could all sing along together. He could imagine her freaking out as he took her to Abbey Road Studios, he had a friend who worked there and he would surely give them a private tour. He also wanted to pose with her and Diana as they made it across the crosswalk for the infamously tacky, yet completely necessary photo op - it would make a great holiday card. And well, Harry felt kind of stuck because even when he tried to put distance between them, all he could think about was getting to have the life he wanted with them. The life he knew they all deserved.

**********

“I want him to be my first kiss.” Celeste whispered and Geri’s eyes widened and she covered her mouth as she gasped as to keep their conversation hushed. They were currently facing each other on Geri’s bed during their free time. It was raining today so all of their outside activities had been canceled and they opted to hang out in their cabin rather than attend the Avengers marathon they were putting on in the auditorium.

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah…I get all…fluttery in my tummy when he’s around and like…I don’t know. I just feel so out of whack around him. And like out of control! Like I need this.” She said with a giggle and Geri bit her lip as she nodded, “You’ve never felt like that?” She asked her friend and Geri shrugged and shook her head.

“Not really no.” she said with a timid smile, “I ummm…I thinking that I’m either a super late bloomer or just…not into people like that, maybe?” She explained tentatively

“I see.” Celeste nodded in understanding.

“Like…what if Ben is your first kiss and then turns out you didn’t really like him? Or like are you sure you even like him enough to want that with him?”

“I mean, I think I do?” She giggled, “I’m not sure. Even without the emotional stuff I still feel…drawn to him. Like attracted I guess?”

“Oh OK.” She nodded, “Yeah, I’m not really sure that I’ve felt that way before, like…liked someone enough to feel that.” She said and Celeste smiled.

“Well maybe you will one day?” She said hopefully and Geri smiled.

“Yeah, maybe.”

Despite Geri not relating, she let Celeste get all her fears, doubts, worries, and excitement out. She was an incredible friend and Celeste felt so lucky to have her and Ozzy by her side this whole time, especially now as she was starting to have these new feelings towards Ben. He made her feel so pretty and happy, it was so wonderful and she just couldn’t wait to see what the rest of the weeks at camp had in store for them.

*********

The weeks had dragged by for Diana, but at least Celeste only had one more week at camp. She had been mostly bound to her bedroom, but today she wanted to do something different, so after she had her dinner she decided to go to a summertime concert, a tribute to George Gershwin, it was at the university’s open air auditorium. Faculty member’s got four free tickets each season which was a pretty good deal, after the four you had to pay at a discounted price. She had reserved a spot for this show because she just wanted to do something different on her own. She always loved music but had neglected it after high school considering her boyfriend’s death, a pregnancy, and then everything after that. But she still loved listening to it and she was excited to be there for some live music. 

They weren’t allowed to drink in the general campus area (unless there was a permitted event), so she was just parked on the roof of one of the structures and having a bit of wine from her little travel tumbler. Most of the people had little picnics on the green before the concert, so despite the very many cars here, everyone was down by the auditorium already and no one could judge her for drinking. She was sat in the car with her door wide open and her nose scrunched up a bit when she got a whiff of someone smoking weed not too far from her. She was curious about it, so she got out of her car and just wandered to the ledge of the parking structure, acting as if she were just looking over it and from her peripheral she saw someone two cars down from her and when she glanced over, they glanced to her at the same time. Her heart leapt and broke as Harry’s eyes met with hers. It was only natural that they smiled at each other as they hadn’t really seen each other in a while, but their smiles weren’t wide and excited like they usually were. She didn’t like how tense it felt right now so she just spoke up.

“You’re back.” She pointed out with a smile and he nodded as he smashed the end of his joint against the concrete ledge and cleared his throat.

“Yeah, got in a couple days ago.” He shared and she nodded and smiled.

“So does this mean you’re faculty now or did you pay?” She asked.

“Oh, Dr. Hsu actually gave me the ticket as a thank you for deciding to stay on to adjunct at the very least.” He said and she smiled.

“Well I’m glad you were able to come to a decision. Do you feel good about it?” She asked.

“Yeah, I do.” He confirmed and she smiled. He had no idea why he was so awkward right now, he was still processing that she was really right there, a few feet from him. What were the odds? “What’ve you got there?” He asked eyeing her flask and he would kick himself if he could at how stupid his question was, but he just needed to say something before she left.

“Oh, just a bit of wine.” She said and before she could talk herself out of it she spoke up again, “Want some?” She offered and he smiled, this time it did reach his eyes.

“Ummm, yeah sure.” He said as he scooted past the two cars between them and she extended the tumbler to him. “Thanks. Do you want a hit?” He asked and she shrugged.

“Yeah, I’ll try.” She said softly and he took a swig from the wine and then passed it over again so that he could light up the joint again. Once he did he blew off the burnt parts at the end and then passed it over to her. She studied it for a moment before she brought it to her lips.

“Slowly, it’s quite strong.” He warned and her eyes flickered up to his as she inhaled slowly and held it for a few seconds before she started to to cough, the fine smoke traveled too far down and was burning her throat. “Oh shit.” He said coming up to her and taking the joint to allow her to try and drink some wine down to just lubricate her throat just a bit. She coughed for a bit more, here eyes were tearful, but she finally inhaled properly and shook her head.

“Geez.” She chuckled before clearing her throat again.

“Sorry.” He said and she shook her head and dabbed at her eyes a bit.

“S’alright, I think smoking is just not for me.” She giggled and he smiled.

“I mean same, but these were on sale so I just figured I’d just get them…” he said and she smiled. There was a beat of silence that felt so tense and unfamiliar, it was sad really, “It feels weird now, doesn’t it?” He asked her and she nodded in confirmation that she felt it too. 

“I’ve just been trying to figure out why.” She said, “Like, I thought we left things OK when we last spoke. Like we’re OK, right?” She asked.

“We are, I promise I’m not like upset at you or anything other than the circumstance.” He assured,  “But I think maybe we’re just…protecting ourselves?” He said and she bit her lip and hummed pensively. He took another drag of the joint and exhaled it.

“That makes sense…I do feel…defensive almost.” She explained, “Like I had to just pretend like…” she sighed and just looked down at her shoes instead.

“Like what?” He asked and she glanced back up to him.

“Like you don’t affect me.” She said, her eyebrows creased in frustration. “Like I haven’t been basically bedridden for the past 3 weeks over how much it hurts me to love you.” She said and he pouted. “And the shitty thing is that personally, there’s no reason for why I shouldn’t. And it feels like I’m…fading away.” She said sadly, “Like it physically hurts. My heart literally hurts and I haven’t felt that way in a long time and I just…never wanted to feel this again.” She confessed.

“The hurt?” He asked as he extinguished the remnants of the joint.

“No. The…love that leads to the hurt.” She said and he frowned, “It always does…sooner or later.” She said and he nodded.

“Well yeah, nothing lasts forever.” He concluded and she hummed. He didn’t feel like being the optimistic and idealistic therapist right now, he wanted to feel the hurt with her. He wanted it to suck, he wanted the feelings to just be out in the open because this way they weren’t stuck inside of him making him feel like he was suffocating. He ached too, his chest felt tight and heavy, his stomach twisted when he remembered her telling him that it just wasn’t going to work. He hadn’t been that disappointed in so long… “Told my mum about you and Celeste.” He said and her eyes met his again.

“Did she get upset at you?”

“No, she was really openminded and she just listened.” He said and smiled, “She said she was sorry not being around as much before and like she’s felt guilty all these years thinking that I had moved here to spite her and my dad for never being around when I was younger and that she could tell something was off with me.” He said and she frowned, “And she told me that she understood if I didn’t open up to her, but that she wanted to build trust with me and just be my mum and like…honestly, I had left here because I didn’t want to think about any of what had just happened with us.” He said and she nodded in understanding, “But ummm…she had just been so vulnerable that I just…wanted to be vulnerable back and like…well I just told her everything and she took it well.” He said and Diana smiled.

“That’s really great, Harry. I’m really happy you guys were able to make progress in your relationship.” She said with a genuine smile and he nodded, “What about your dad?”

“Oh, he’s in a motorcycle club now.” He said and she giggled, “Yeah, I used to ride when I was younger and like…I guess he had always been curious and so now he’s making more time to explore that hobby. We did go on a little drive down to Brighton, which was nice, just had some time together as well.”

“That’s really good, Harry. I am glad that it all went well and were able to reconnect with your parents in that way.”

“Thanks. Ummm…how’s it been without Celeste around?”

“It’s sucked so bad.” She confessed with a smile and he chuckled, “But ummm…I think I've needed this time alone to just…deal with everything.”

“Do you feel like you can’t be sad around her?” He asked.

“Not about this. She hounds me and asks so many questions whenever she sees me upset and like…yeah, so no I can’t really be sad around her without it being a full fledged interrogation.” She said with a smile.

“I wish I could help somehow…” he said and she shook her head.

“I’m fine, I mean…it is what it is.” She said before drinking some more of her wine.

“Yeah…I guess so.” He replied. And yeah, it just felt so awkward between them now. It wasn’t right, but maybe this was for the best.

“So do you like Gershwin or did she just give you a random ticket?” Diana asked.

“Honestly, I could give two shits about Gershwin, I’m just here in case they play Rhapsody in Blue.” He said and she laughed at his response which made him smile, “I’m kidding, I do like Gershwin. Dr. Hsu sent me the calendar and let me pick one.” He explained and she hummed.

“That’s sweet of her.”

“Yeah, she’s a nice lady. Do you like Gershwin?”

“Yeah, I do actually. My dad’s a fan, so I grew up listening to a lot of his compositions. I couldn’t miss it.” She added and he smiled.

“Are you feeling anything yet?”

“No…I think it just burned my throat and that was that.” She joked and Harry chuckled, “Are you feeling anything?”

“No, oddly enough.” He said.

“Maybe that’s why they were on sale.” She pointed out and Harry’s eyes widened in realization.

“Well fuck…” he hummed and she giggled, “Just ruining my lungs for no good reason.”

“Is there ever a good reason?” She asked and he hummed.

“That’s a fair question…” 

“Want some more wine? I’ve already had my serving. I literally filled it to the top.” She said and he glanced to her.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I have to drive home so I shouldn’t finish it all myself.” She reasoned and he nodded in agreement as he took the tumbler from her and knocked it back and chugged down the remaining half of the wine. She laughed and rolled her eyes as he swallowed down gulps of it at a time before he was done.

“That should do it.” He chuckled as he handed back the tumbler to her and she smiled as she took it back and turned to put it in the cupholder in the car. Harry was peaking over the ledge of the parking structure, “It looks like it’s about to start.” He said and then they heard the first musicians start to tune.

“I guess so.” She said as she closed her door and headed over beside him to look. 

“Do you have a box seat?” She asked him and he nodded.

“You?” 

“Oh, I got mine for the back section in case I need to go or something.” She explained.

“You’re gonna hear people eating snacks and chattering over the music.” He said and she shrugged. “What if we watched from up here? I mean, we can hear it clearly and the sound isn’t even on yet.” He suggested.

“I don’t think that’s smart, Harry.” She responded. His heart stung at her rejection, but he just couldn’t help it, he craved being closer to her. He loved her so much that being away from her made him feel so alone.

“You’re right. Sorry for suggesting that.” He said softly. It grew tense and quiet between them and he just decided that he needed to remove himself from this situation before he did anything else to embarrass himself, “Ummm, I’m gonna get down there then. Sorry about the bum joint and the awkwardness and just everything I guess.” He said nervously and it broke her in two to see him so insecure and off his game. He was better at hiding his hurt, but the facade was starting to crack and it hurt to see him this way.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to apologize.” She assured him and he nodded before he just took off. “Fuck me…” she whispered as she hurried to grab a tissue from the little packet in her purse and was quick to dab under her eyes as she felt herself start to cry. 

She hated being so cold towards him, but it was a defense mechanism. Everything she was doing now was all part of her self-preservation, she only loved to lose and quite frankly, she was done playing that game. She was so tempted to run after him, to rush down the stairs and meet him and hold him and tell him that she’s missed him so much. It was almost like a compulsion that she couldn’t control, this inherent need to just go after him. Before she could even allow herself to rationalize her decision she got back in her car and started making her way down the structure, she couldn’t be anywhere near him, it hurt too much.

*********

The elevator had just opened when Harry saw Diana’s car waiting for the barrier to raise at the exit of the structure. He hurried out of the elevator and as he got closer he could hear her sobbing and while he had every intention of running over to her to tell her that he loved her and that she should stay with him for this, he suddenly felt cemented to the ground. He didn’t want to be responsible for her tears anymore, so he swallowed the lump in his throat as he saw the barrier lifted and then she drove off without so much as a look back.

The show sucked, even if they did play all the pieces he liked. The others in the box with him were a bit sloshed so they had been chatting over the music the whole time. He was in a bad mood and he didn’t feel like interacting with anyone or being stuck in the line at the parking structure so he just sat in the seat until he was asked by the security guard to please leave the auditorium. So he begrudgingly made it up the stairs and walked back to the parking structure. The ride up to the top floor was fast, but not fast enough that he had the privacy of crying in the comfort of his car. His tears started spilling down his face by the time he’d made it to the second floor and he was glad that no one else was in there to witness this pathetic and sad spectacle. He was just going to go home and get drunk and put on a sad film that could help him cry it out. That seemed like the best plan.

The drive to his house was thankfully smooth, he only got one red light and it was the main street that he made a left on to get into his neighborhood, so he wasn’t all that bothered by it. He was sad and irritated and wanted to drown his sorrows. He wasn’t careful as he kicked off his shoes at the entrance, or as he started to undo the buttons of his shirt. He then tapped his pockets to find his phone to turn on the hot tub jets so it could be nice and steamy when he got in, but it wasn’t on him. He sighed in irritation when he realized it was still in the car and he literally groaned as he swung open his front door, but all of his frustration melted away when he saw Diana standing there, hand in the air, about to knock. 

Time felt suspended as they just looked at each other. The evidence of the hurt they were both being consumed by was tangible. Her eyes softened as she studied his features, his eyes were glossy from his recent tears and she felt like shit thinking that she could be the reason that he cried.

“Harry, I’ve…I’ve missed you.” She said and he sniffled.

“Then why did you leave?” He questioned.

“Because I can’t be around you and think straight! You make me feel all tingly and jumbled up and I love it so much, but it’s so fucking inconvenient.” She said and he smiled lightly.

“I’ve never been happier to hear I inconvenience you.” He joked and she sighed, but held a smile on her face.

“I just want you to know that I’m…hurting a lot too. I know I don’t show it as much and I act so cold and callous, but I…I yearn for you.” She confessed with a desperate look in her eyes, “I have been. Every. Single. Day since we said goodbye.”

“Baby…” he exhaled with a frown and she inhaled sharply as her tears started to fall again.

“I just needed you to know.” She said and he nodded. “I’m not going to stay.” She said right off the bat, “I just needed to tell you in person because I felt like such a coward for just bolting off-”

“You’re not a coward.” He assured her and she nodded her head as she sniffled.

“Yes, I am.” She whispered and he reached his hand out to her and she bit her lip before deciding to just take it. 

She felt relief as she slid her fingers against his palm delicately for a second, she didn’t want to overthink it. She glanced up at him and just surged forward and hugged him tight, burying her face in his chest. Harry’s body relaxed in her hold and he was quick to hug around her tightly as well. She started to sob because just being in his arms brought her all of the comfort she’d been needing and it was sad to know the person who could make you feel better was the person you should stay away from. 

“It’s alright, baby.” He sniffled as he rocked them a bit from side to side. “I’ve missed you too. Can’t stop thinking about you and even when it hurts, I don’t want to.” He said and she exhaled shakily.

“So your escape to England didn’t even help?” She asked and he shook his head.

“Not at all. I was just…picturing how much fun we’d have i-if we went together? Like Celeste would freak out if she got to see Abbey Road.”

“And the Harry Potter set.”

“Yeah, that too…” He hummed as he recalled this detail, “So ummm, yeah I couldn’t help but think of you guys while I was out there.” He said and she exhaled and squeezed him just a bit harder. “Have you talked to Celeste?” He asked and she shook her head.

“She promised she’d text every night but she forgot about me after the first couple of days.” She said and he chuckled.

“Typical.” He mumbled and she nodded.

“Knew she would…” she sighed as she started to loosen her hold around Harry and it made him hold her a bit tighter.

“Please, not yet. Just another minute or so.” He said and she smiled up at him, her chin against his chest as he glanced down at her.

“I wasn’t gonna let go yet, just want to see you.” She said and he smiled.

“Oh, OK.” He said and let her go so that she could reposition her body in a way that made it more comfortable for her to look up at him this way. She just admired him for a moment.

“Like your hair at this length.” She complimented and his cheeks flushed.

“Oh, thank you. Me too.” He replied timidly and she just smiled at up him. “And well, I just like everything about you.” He said and she smiled.

“Can I kiss you? Right here?” She asked as she nudged her nose on his peck, right over where his heart would be and he nodded. She smiled in gratitude before puckering her lips over that part of his chest and smooching him three times over his heart. Harry felt a surge of warmth and happiness that he hadn’t felt in weeks, “I really do love you, Harry. With every piece of my heart.” She reassured him solemnly.

“I love you too, Di.”

---- TAG LIST ----

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[ohmoonbeam]

This is so so adorable and divine. I love the way Harry’s character is written, I love the female lead and generally love the whole fic!

Gala After Gala

Harry didn’t know that one moment with Y/N would change his life. 

Word count: 28,920 (no joke)

A/N: hi amores! this has been something i have been working on for months. this is older harry and I can honestly say i’ve poured my heart into this piece.  special mention to @matildashoney who was just an amazing support as i worked on this on and off. thank you for being patient with me friends! 💜

i hope you enjoy, my loves. buckle in, grab your waters and happy reading!

Warnings: slow burn!!!!! (it’s worth it), angst, fluff, smut (female pleasure) 

Another gala. Another check to write.

Harry has to remind his assistant to stop accepting these invitations for him. Next time he’ll mail a check out instead. He had finished buttoning his velvet maroon coat as he handed off his keys to the valet for the hotel. The doorman guided him down the entry leading him to the extravagant ballroom.

To no surprise, the venue was decorated beautifully. There seemed to be a common theme of gold and flowers. At every turn, he saw a waiter with a boutonniere in their left pocket. The tablecloth shimmered under the dimmed lights, unlike the usual cheap fabric he saw at other events. For food, appetizers were lined up in the back with small places and forks to the side so one could serve themselves to their liking. Dinner was set to start in an hour once most of the guests arrived.

Harry mingled with a drink in his hand, not bothering to force a smile, he had the displeasure of knowing most of the people in attendance, and he can’t say he’s the biggest fan of them. They all had one thing on their mind: money. None of them cared about the cause for tonight, Harry included. All they were there for was to flaunt their money and see who could donate the most, and by the looks of it, Old man Tommy was looking to take the win by how aggressively he was signing his checkbook.

Keep reading

[cloudyluun]

London Fever (p2) | neighbour!harry 

Summary: Y/N knew exactly what she was doing when she slipped into his oversized merch. She wanted a reaction, and oh she got one. Harry doesn’t take well to being toyed with, especially not when she’s been pushing his buttons for weeks. One knock at her door is all it takes for things to spiral out of control. But after a night that leaves them both wrecked and wanting more, reality comes crashing in. The world finds out, the headlines explode, and suddenly, it’s not just a game anymore.

A/N: Turns out, playing with fire does get you burned. Who knew? 🥹 Anyway, here’s Harry losing his mind over Y/N in his clothes, an ungodly amount of tension, and a smut scene so intense it should come with a safety warning. Enjoy the chaos, my loves.

Word Count: 5,5k

Warnings: 

Smut (explicit, detailed, and very NSFW)

Power play, dominance, and control (Harry is in charge, let’s be real)

Possessiveness (because of course)

Teasing & sexual tension (this could fuel a power plant)

Rough sex (hair pulling, manhandling, praise + dirty talk)

Aftercare & softness (he may be mean, but he’s also sweet 🥹)

Angst (because life is cruel)

Public fallout & paparazzi drama (oops)

[part 1]

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

A line had been crossed.

He moved.

A slow, deliberate step forward.

Then another.

She felt it before she fully registered what was happening—the shift in the air, the heat rolling off his body, the static crackling between them like a wire pulled too tight.

Until her back hit the door.

Until he was so close that she could feel the ghost of his breath against her cheek.

Warm. Unsteady.

His presence swallowed her whole.

The scent of spice and cedarwood curled around her, intoxicating, familiar. It filled every inch of space between them, sinking into her skin, into her lungs, making it impossible to think clearly.

She swallowed hard, pulse hammering at the base of her throat.

This was new.

Harry had always watched. Always pushed, always teased—a smirk here, a lingering look there. He kept the tension simmering beneath the surface, something unspoken, something electric.

But he had never touched.

Not like this.

Not with his fingers tracing the line of her jaw, knuckles grazing her skin, the tips barely pressing into the delicate hollow of her throat.

Not with his body caging her in, his chest nearly brushing hers, his presence a weight she could feel everywhere.

Not with his lips hovering so, so close.

His emerald gaze flickered over her, slow and dangerous, cataloging every reaction. Every stuttered breath. Every slight part of her lips, every flutter of her lashes, every tiny movement.

Like he was memorizing something.

Like he was committing every single detail to memory.

She couldn’t breathe.

Her hands stayed at her sides, fingers curling against the doorframe, nails pressing into the wood to ground herself.

But it didn’t help.

Not when his thumb brushed against her cheek.

Featherlight.

A whisper of a touch. So delicate, so intimate, it sent a shiver racing down her spine, left a hollow ache in its wake.

Made her knees feel weak.

Made her mind spin.

His gaze dipped lower, lingering at her mouth.

And then—his lips parted, voice dropping into something low and lethal.

"Because, sweetheart," he murmured, the words slow, deliberate, dripping with something dark.

Something possessive.

Something that curled tight in her stomach, hot and consuming.

His fingers tilted her chin up.

Forcing her to look at him.

To really see the heat in his gaze.

The warning.

"I don’t like sharing."

Silence stretched between them.

Thick. Heavy.

Her breath came in short, uneven bursts, her chest rising and falling too quickly.

She wanted to say something. Anything.

But she couldn’t.

No words came.

Just the heavy pounding of her heartbeat in her ears.

His fingers lingered; thumb brushing the edge of her jaw, tracing the delicate curve.

A test. A tease.

And then—

He pulled away.

Abrupt. Sharp.

Like the snap of a rubber band pulled too tight.

The loss of his touch was instant.

A cold rush of air in his absence.

A hollow ache in the pit of her stomach.

He didn’t say anything.

Didn’t look back as he turned and walked away, his shoulders tense, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

Leaving her there.

Pressed against the front door.

Heart slamming against her ribs.

Every nerve ending burning.

She made a choice the next morning.

A deliberate decision.

The oversized shirt slipped over her frame easily, the fabric soft against her skin, hanging loose, dipping just enough to expose the curve of her collarbone.

It was his merch.

A bold logo stretched across the front, his name, his design.

It wasn’t actually his. Not something borrowed, not something stolen.

But that didn’t matter.

It was the implication that counted.

It was the game.

She saw him before he saw her.

He was leaning against the front desk in the lobby, scrolling through his phone, fingers tapping idly against the polished marble surface.

Dressed down. Sweatpants slung low on his hips. A hoodie pushed up to his elbows, exposing tanned forearms.

Casual. Unassuming.

But then, he looked up.

And everything changed.

His entire body went rigid.

She saw it all.

The flicker of realization. The quick inhale through his nose. The sharp clench of his jaw.

His eyes darkened.

Dragging down. Over the loose neckline exposing her collarbones. Over the way the fabric swallowed her whole.

Over the fact that his name—his brand—was stamped across her chest like a mark.

Then lower.

To the bare stretch of her thighs.

His nostrils flared.

His grip tightened around his phone.

For a moment, he didn’t move.

Didn’t say a word.

Just stared.

Just looked at her like he was trying to figure out if this was real. If she was really doing this.

If she was really taunting him.

Then—

"I thought you weren’t really a fan."

His voice was rougher than usual. Low and sharp.

She tilted her head, lips curling into something dangerous.

"What can I say? Opinions change, I guess."

He didn’t smile.

Didn’t smirk the way he usually would.

His jaw ticked. His fingers flexed at his sides, like he was fighting the urge to do something.

To touch.

To grab.

To undo this tension that was so close to snapping.

But instead—

He exhaled.

A slow, measured breath.

And then, he walked away.

Not a word.

Not a glance back.

But the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands curled into fists at his sides—

It told her everything.

This wasn’t over.

It happened late that night.

Three knocks.

Deliberate. Heavy.

The kind that demanded attention.

The kind that made her breath catch before she even opened her eyes fully.

She stirred beneath the sheets, her heartbeat slamming in her ears.

It was late.

Too late for neighbors.

Too late for casual visits.

And she knew.

She knew who it was before she even reached the door.

Fingers trembling slightly, she curled them around the handle.

She exhaled—slow, steadying—before she unlocked it.

Before she pulled it open.

And when she did—

There he was.

Harry.

Standing in the dim hallway.

His hoodie was gone.

Just a white T-shirt, clinging to his frame. His curls were messy, like he’d been running his fingers through them.

His eyes—

Dark. Blazing.

And when he finally spoke—

His voice was hoarse. Low.

"Open the door wider."

For a second, she didn’t move. Couldn’t. Her fingers curled tighter around the handle, breath caught somewhere between her lungs and her throat. But then she did—slowly, cautiously—stepping back just enough to let the door swing open. Just enough to let him inside.

The second he crossed the threshold, she knew she had made a mistake.

The air shifted.

His presence sucked the oxygen from the room, leaving behind something thick, something stifling. The hallway light behind him cast his features in sharp relief—the sculpted lines of his jaw, the tension coiled in his shoulders, the unmistakable hunger in his eyes.

He looked at her then.

Really looked at her.

His gaze swept down, dragging over every inch of her, drinking her in like he was committing her to memory. Her bare legs. The way the oversized shirt swallowed her frame. The way the fabric dipped past her collarbones, slipping from one shoulder, exposing the delicate skin there. It wasn’t his shirt—but it might as well have been.

His fingers twitched at his sides.

He reached out.

A slow, deliberate movement.

Fingers curling around the hem of the fabric, thumb barely grazing her thigh as he tugged it between his fingers. Testing. Teasing.

"You think this is funny?"

His voice was rough, like it had been scraped raw. A warning. A challenge.

Y/N swallowed, her pulse hammering, her skin prickling beneath his touch. "I don’t know what you mean."

Harry huffed a quiet, humorless laugh. Then he stepped closer.

Too close.

His body heat was suffocating. His scent—spice and cedarwood and something purely him—wrapped around her, invading her senses, making her head feel light.

"You’ve been teasing me for weeks." His fingers slipped beneath the fabric, the calloused tips ghosting up, up, up, barely touching, barely there.

A shiver raced down her spine.

His breath was hot against her temple, his words slow, measured, dangerous. "Is this what you wanted?"

Her knees felt weak. Her fingers curled into fists at her sides. Every nerve ending in her body was on high alert, every muscle coiled tight, waiting—

She barely heard her own voice. Barely recognized it when she whispered—

"Yes."

That’s all it took.

The snap.

A fraction of a second and his mouth was on hers.

Hard. Desperate. Bruising.

A collision of lips and teeth and frustration. His hands gripped her waist, firm and unyielding, pressing her back against the door. She gasped, the sound swallowed between them, lost in the mess of it all. He kissed like he was trying to punish her, like he had been holding back for too long and was finally snapping.

His hands slid up—fingers tangling in her hair, gripping just enough to tilt her head back, forcing her to let him take more. Take everything.

His knee parted her legs, pressing up, pressing against her. She let out a small, choked sound, one she barely recognized as her own, and his grip tightened in response.

He didn’t stop.

Didn’t slow.

Didn’t give her a second to breathe.

And she didn’t want him to.

His hands moved lower, fingers skimming the bare skin beneath the fabric, tracing the soft curve of her waist. Teasing. Exploring. Making her squirm.

Then—

He pulled away.

Just enough to let her feel the loss.

To make her chase after him.

His mouth hovered just above hers, his breath unsteady. His eyes, dark and blown, flicked down—to her lips, her throat, the way her chest rose and fell in rapid succession.

He smirked. Barely.

Then, he whispered—

"Told you, sweetheart."

His hands found the hem of the shirt again.

"You like playing with fire."

He peeled the shirt up.

Slow. Torturous.

His fingers traced every inch of newly exposed skin, dragging up the sides of her ribs, feeling the way her body shuddered beneath his touch. He pressed open-mouthed kisses to her stomach as he lifted the fabric higher, higher, his tongue grazing over sensitive spots, inhaling the way her body reacted to him.

When the fabric lifted past her breasts, he paused.

Pulled back.

Just enough to look at her.

His thumb brushed over a peaked nipple—a featherlight touch, teasing, testing—watching the way she gasped at the contact, watching the way her lips parted slightly, like she wanted to say something.

But before she could, he leaned in—

And wrapped his mouth around her.

A gasp ripped from her throat.

He took his time.

His tongue flicked, slow, deliberate. His teeth grazed, just enough. He worked her up, dragging out every tiny sound, every sharp intake of breath, every shiver that wracked her body.

Then, he switched.

Repeating the same sweet torture on the other side.

By the time he finally pulled the shirt over her head and tossed it aside, she was trembling.

And they had only just begun.

His hands skimmed down her waist, slow and deliberate, his palms branding heat into her bare skin. She barely had time to process the loss of the shirt before his grip tightened—firm, commanding—as he caught the backs of her thighs and lifted her with effortless strength.

A startled gasp left her lips, her fingers scrambling against his shoulders, nails digging in for balance as her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist.

The air felt thick, electric.

Her back pressed against the door, the hard surface grounding her as he held her up, his body locked against hers, caging her in.

And then—he rolled his hips.

Just once.

A slow, deliberate grind that sent a sharp pulse of heat straight through her core.

A strangled moan slipped past her lips.

His reaction was immediate.

A low, deep groan rumbled from his chest, his grip on her thighs tightening like he needed to steady himself. His forehead dropped against the side of her face, his breath warm against her cheek, his voice rough.

"This what you wanted, sweetheart?"

He did it again, slower this time, pressing himself against her just enough to make sure she felt him.

Felt how hard he was.

How much he wanted her.

The friction sent another shudder rolling through her, her body betraying her, her head tipping back against the door with a sharp gasp.

His teeth scraped along her jaw, catching the sensitive skin before he sucked lightly, just enough to make her whimper.

"Yeah," he murmured, voice dark, smug. "That’s what I thought."

And then, he let her down—just barely.

Lowering her just enough that her toes skimmed the floor, his fingers still digging into her thighs, keeping her exactly where he wanted her.

And then—he dropped.

Sank to his knees in front of her, his hands still gripping her thighs, fingers spreading over the soft skin, holding her open.

His gaze flickered up.

Dark. Intense.

Watching her as he pressed his lips to the inside of her thigh.

Slow.

Lingering.

She exhaled shakily, her entire body tensed, caught in that unbearable space between anticipation and desperation.

He didn’t rush.

Didn’t move too fast.

Instead, he took his time, his lips trailing a slow path higher, the heat of his breath searing against her already-sensitive skin.

A soft gasp escaped her lips when he nipped lightly, just above her knee, his tongue flicking out to soothe the spot.

He hummed against her skin.

"So sensitive," he murmured, voice full of wicked amusement.

She bit her lip, fingers curling into fists at her sides as he kept going.

Higher.

His mouth moved up the inside of her thigh, his tongue dragging in slow, torturous strokes.

When he reached the curve where her thigh met her hip, he paused.

She could feel his breath there.

So close.

Right where she needed him.

Her hips shifted instinctively, a small, unconscious movement. A plea without words.

And instead of giving in—

He pulled back.

A small, teasing chuckle rumbled from his throat.

"Impatient?"

She made a small, frustrated noise, her hands twitching at her sides.

And then—

His fingers curled into the waistband of her underwear.

A small tug.

Not enough to pull them down.

Just enough to snap the elastic against her skin.

The sharp little sting made her jolt, made her breath catch.

Harry grinned.

"So eager," he murmured, voice dark, teasing. "Look at you—already soaked for me."

She whimpered.

His fingertips traced just above the fabric.

Not touching her where she needed him.

Just hovering.

Letting her feel how close he was.

Letting her ache for it.

"Tell me," he murmured, voice rough, his lips brushing the inside of her thigh.

"Do you want my fingers or my tongue first?"

Her breath hitched, fingers clenching into fists at her sides. The heat of his breath against her skin sent a shiver rippling up her spine, and she felt like she might go mad if he didn’t touch her properly.

She swallowed hard, chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. She knew what he was doing—pushing her, making her beg for it.

But her pride could only hold out for so long.

"Your mouth," she whispered, voice unsteady.

A pleased hum vibrated against her skin. "Good girl."

And then—he snapped.

In one sharp motion, he hooked his fingers into her underwear and ripped them down her thighs. A gasp caught in her throat at the sudden movement, at the way the fabric barely had time to glide over her skin before he was shoving it aside like it was a useless scrap in his way.

The cold air barely had time to meet her exposed skin before his mouth was on her.

Her whole body jerked against the door, a strangled sound escaping her lips as his tongue flicked out, slow at first.

Testing.

Tasting.

He took his time, dragging the tip of his tongue in a long, deliberate stroke, savoring the way she trembled, the way she exhaled in stuttered little gasps.

His grip on her thighs tightened, thumbs pressing into the soft skin as he held her open for him.

"Fuck," she breathed, already struggling to stay upright, nails clawing at the wooden door behind her.

His tongue moved again, flicking over her in a lazy, teasing rhythm that made her hips stutter forward—chasing the feeling, chasing him.

That seemed to amuse him.

"So desperate," he murmured against her, lips curving before he dipped his tongue deeper.

Her whole body jolted. A strangled moan caught in her throat, her knees nearly giving out.

Harry groaned against her, the sound vibrating through her, making her stomach tighten, her pulse race. His grip tightened on her thighs, holding her steady, keeping her exactly where he wanted her as he worked her open with his mouth.

And then—he got impatient.

The slow teasing disappeared in a snap.

His tongue pressed deeper, flicking faster, rougher, his lips sealing over her in a way that sent electricity shooting through her limbs.

She gasped, back arching, hands slamming against the door as her whole body clenched.

He didn’t let up.

Didn’t give her time to breathe, to process, to do anything but take it.

Her hips tried to jerk away, the pleasure rolling through her so intense it was almost too much.

But Harry wasn’t having it.

His hands pinned her in place.

"Stay still," he ordered, voice muffled against her. His lips brushed over her slick, sensitive skin, a promise, a warning. "Take what I give you."

And then—his fingers slid inside her.

She nearly sobbed.

His fingers curled inside her just right, pressing into that spot that made her see white behind her eyelids.

She was already unraveling, already falling apart in his hands.

And he loved it.

His mouth and fingers worked in tandem, pushing her higher, pushing her toward the edge so fast she couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but let him wreck her.

Her hands clawed at the door, her head falling back, a sharp cry slipping from her lips.

So close.

So close it was torturous.

Her body clenched around his fingers, legs trembling, the pleasure building, burning, threatening to consume her whole.

She was right there.

Right on the edge of breaking.

And then—

He pulled away.

Completely.

Her eyes snapped open, her breath catching, her head spinning in a dazed, wrecked, frantic haze.

"Harry—"

Her voice came out shattered, her body desperate, aching, ready to fall apart.

But he just wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his lips red and glistening, his eyes dark and burning as he stared up at her.

"Turn around," he ordered, voice low, rough, firm.

She didn’t move at first, still gasping for breath, her mind slow to catch up, still clinging to the pleasure he had just ripped away from her.

But Harry—

Harry didn’t wait.

He grabbed her.

Spun her in one swift motion, pressing her face-first against the door.

Her hands braced against the wood as she sucked in a shaky breath, her body still trembling from what he had done to her.

But she barely had time to recover before she felt it.

Him.

His cock, thick and hard, dragging over her slick folds.

Not pushing in.

Not yet.

Just teasing, letting her feel how ready he was, how desperate he had become.

His breath was hot against her ear as he leaned in, pressing his chest against her back.

"You like playing with fire?" he murmured, his voice low, taunting. His lips brushed over the shell of her ear, the words a dark promise.

"Now you get to burn."

Her body shivered, but it wasn’t from the cold. There was nothing cold about the way he held her, about the way his hands framed her hips, keeping her pinned between his body and the door. Nothing cold about the weight of him pressing into her, the hard line of his chest against her back, his thighs bracketing hers as his grip tightened—possessive, unrelenting.

His fingertips dug into her skin, marking her before he’d even properly touched her. A slow, dark thrill curled in her stomach, anticipation pooling low, thick and hot, making her legs tremble beneath her.

Harry tilted his head, letting his lips graze the curve of her jaw before trailing lower, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to the side of her neck. He hummed against her skin, his voice nothing but a rasp. "You were teasing me all night. Now look at you."

She bit her lip, swallowing down the sound that threatened to escape. It was pathetic, how easily he unraveled her, how effortlessly he wound her up. He hadn’t even touched her properly, and already she was teetering on the edge of something reckless, something that stole the breath from her lungs.

His fingers skimmed down her stomach, deliberate and slow, until they settled on the waistband of her underwear. He played with the fabric, tugging it just enough to make her gasp, before dragging his hand back up.

She whimpered.

"You hear that?" he murmured, pressing his lips to the hinge of her jaw. "You’re already desperate for me."

She squeezed her eyes shut, swallowing down the response on the tip of her tongue. He knew it was true. He knew exactly what he did to her.

And still, he made her wait.

Seconds stretched between them, thick with tension, the air heavy with the weight of what was coming. His fingers flexed against her waist, his breathing uneven, his restraint razor-thin.

And then, finally—finally—he pushed inside.

There was no hesitation, no teasing. No gentle buildup.

The moment he entered her, it was deep and hard, stealing the breath from her lungs in one sharp thrust.

Her fingers flew to the door, pressing against it for support, her body arching in response to the sudden fullness, the delicious stretch of him inside her. A broken moan tumbled from her lips, her forehead falling forward, her body tensing around him.

"Fuck." The word was a ragged groan from behind her, his voice thick, strained. His grip on her waist tightened, his nails pressing crescents into her skin. "So tight, sweetheart. Always so fucking tight for me."

She barely heard him. Barely registered anything beyond the way he felt, the way he filled her completely, the way his hips pulled back—just enough to make her whimper—before snapping forward again.

It was punishing. Relentless.

There was no slow build, no tenderness. Just pure, raw need.

His other hand slid up, fingers tracing the path between her ribs before curving around her breast. He squeezed, rough and possessive, his thumb swiping over the peak. She gasped, her knees nearly giving out beneath her.

She couldn’t think.

Couldn’t focus on anything beyond the way he moved, the way he took her—deep and desperate, like he needed this as much as she did.

"This is what you wanted, huh?" His voice was nothing but a rasp, wrecked and breathless. "To be fucked like this?"

A strangled moan was all she could manage, her hands scrabbling against the door, nails scraping against the wood.

His pace quickened, hips slamming into hers, the sound of skin against skin echoing in the dimly lit room. The dresser beside them rattled with every thrust, the sharp edge of the door biting into her palms as she braced herself.

She could feel herself slipping, unraveling beneath his touch. The pleasure built rapidly, winding tight in her stomach, threatening to snap.

But just as she reached for it—just as she started to fall—he pulled away.

She gasped at the sudden loss, her body protesting immediately, but before she could even form a coherent thought, he spun her around.

Her back barely hit the dresser before his hands were on her thighs, lifting her easily, placing her exactly where he wanted. Her fingers scrambled for purchase, gripping his shoulders, her legs wrapping instinctively around his waist as he aligned himself again.

His mouth crashed against hers—desperate, bruising.

The kiss was messy, all teeth and tongues, heat and hunger. He nipped at her bottom lip before swallowing the breathy moan that slipped out, his hands digging into the flesh of her thighs as he held her still.

And then, without warning, he slammed back into her.

Her head tipped back, a strangled sound escaping as her fingers clawed at his back.

He didn’t give her time to adjust. Didn’t give her time to catch her breath.

He set a brutal pace from the start, each thrust deep and deliberate, dragging pleasure through her like fire licking at dry wood.

"Look at me."

His voice was commanding, his grip tightening as his fingers tangled in her hair.

She forced her eyes open, her vision hazy, dazed, as she met the intense green of his.

His pupils were blown, his jaw tight, sweat dampening the curls at his temples. He looked wrecked, desperate, and completely in control all at once.

The way he was looking at her—like he wanted to watch every second of her unraveling, like he wanted to imprint this moment in his memory forever—sent a fresh wave of arousal through her.

The dresser rocked beneath them, the force of his movements sending jolts of pleasure through her, her body trembling from the sheer intensity of it.

She was close.

So close she could taste it, could feel it creeping up her spine, threatening to pull her under.

And then he did something devastating.

He slowed.

His thrusts dragged out, the pace shifting—not easing in intensity, but stretching the moment, prolonging it, making her suffer.

She whimpered, her nails digging into his skin, frustration making her eyes sting.

"Harry," she pleaded, voice wrecked, shaking.

His smirk was slow, teasing, even as his own restraint wavered. He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear as he murmured, "Come on, sweetheart. Let go."

The words shattered her.

Her orgasm hit her like a tidal wave, dragging her under, burning through every nerve ending. She gasped, her whole body tensing, thighs squeezing around him, fingers gripping him so tightly she was sure she’d leave marks.

The sound that left her—somewhere between a sob and a scream—sent him spiraling after her.

A guttural groan ripped from his throat as he buried himself deep, his whole body shuddering as he spilled into her.

For a long moment, neither of them moved.

Their breathing filled the silence, ragged and uneven, the scent of sweat and sex lingering between them.

Then, Harry let out a breathless, hoarse chuckle against her shoulder.

"Fuck," he muttered, forehead dropping to hers.

She exhaled shakily, still floating somewhere between reality and oblivion.

And when she finally laughed—soft, dazed—he smirked, shaking his head.

"Yeah, sweetheart," he murmured, pressing a slow, lazy kiss to her jaw. "Real funny."

Her body still hummed from the aftershocks, her skin dewy, her limbs heavy and languid. The dresser was cool against her back, contrasting the overwhelming warmth of him—his body still pressed to hers, his breath warm against her temple.

She closed her eyes for a moment, letting herself exist in this space, in the remnants of what they’d just done. Her fingers trailed absentmindedly along his shoulder, nails scraping lightly against damp skin.

He sighed, a slow exhale that ghosted across her collarbone. "You okay?"

It was soft. Barely more than a murmur, but the concern in his voice made something pull tight in her chest.

She swallowed, forcing a small smile. "Yeah. You?"

His lips brushed over her throat, lingering there for a beat before he pulled back just enough to meet her eyes. "Always."

She huffed out a tired laugh, shaking her head. But she didn’t argue.

Because for now, she’d let herself believe it.

The first thing Y/N registers is warmth.

It surrounds her, presses against her back, blankets her in something heavy and solid and safe.

A slow, steady breath ghosts over her shoulder, warm lips barely grazing her skin in sleep.

Harry.

Reality creeps in slowly, threading through the fog of exhaustion. The sheets are tangled around her legs, twisted in the aftermath of limbs and desperate touches. His arm is draped over her waist, his fingers relaxed against her stomach, but even in sleep, his hold is possessive—like even now, he doesn’t want her to leave.

She blinks, adjusting to the dim light filtering in from the window, to the weight of his body curled around hers.

This is real.

The thought hits her with startling clarity. The heat of him against her, the soft inhale and exhale of his breath.

His fingers twitch against her stomach, flexing slightly—like he’s making sure she’s still there.

For a moment, she lets herself sink into it.

She stays still, breathing him in, memorizing the feeling of his skin against hers. She closes her eyes, reveling in the warmth, the intimacy of it, the slow rise and fall of his chest pressed against her back.

But then, the second thought comes.

She needs to go.

Carefully, she shifts, trying to untangle herself without disturbing him, but the moment she moves, his grip tightens.

"Where you going, trouble?"

His voice is low, thick with sleep, rough in a way that makes something clench deep in her stomach.

She swallows. "I should leave before—"

His arm tightens around her, pulling her back into him.

"Stay."

The word is soft. Barely a whisper.

But it steals the breath from her lungs.

She doesn’t move. Doesn’t breathe.

Because this? This isn’t supposed to happen.

She bites her lip, staring at the ceiling.

"Harry, this—" she hesitates, her voice quieter now, less certain. "This wasn’t supposed to happen."

His fingers move slowly, tracing small circles against her hip, his breath steadying.

"Maybe not." He presses a lazy kiss to her shoulder. "But it did."

She doesn’t respond.

Because she doesn’t know how.

So, for now, neither of them moves.

For a while, they exist in a bubble.

The tension is still there—always—but now it’s laced with something heavier.

Something neither of them speaks about.

They steal moments.

Quick touches in the elevator. Lingering glances across the lobby. The brush of his fingers against her wrist in passing. A hand on her lower back when no one’s looking.

The silence between them is thick with unspoken words, with things they should say but don’t.

Because saying them makes this real.

And if it’s real, it can break.

But then, the bubble bursts.

A paparazzi photo leaks.

"Harry Styles spotted leaving neighbor’s apartment in the early hours."

Her phone is vibrating before she even opens her eyes.

A constant buzz against her nightstand, insistent and relentless.

She groans, squinting against the early morning light as she reaches for it.

Calls. Messages. Notifications blowing up.

Her stomach tightens.

With shaking fingers, she swipes through the alerts.

People found her Instagram. They’re digging through her posts. Speculating.

Her heart pounds as she scrolls through the headlines. The invasive comments. The messages flooding her inbox—some curious, some vicious.

Her stomach twists.

Her hands shake.

She doesn’t even hesitate before grabbing her keys and heading to Harry’s apartment.

By the time she gets there, the door is already unlocked.

She steps inside cautiously, closing the door behind her, her pulse hammering in her ears.

Harry is pacing.

His back is to her, his hands tangled in his hair, his shoulders rigid.

He turns sharply at the sound of the door clicking shut.

His expression is unreadable, but his eyes are dark, stormy.

"Harry—"

"We can’t do this."

The words hit like a slap.

Her breath catches, her stomach twisting so violently she thinks she might be sick.

"So that’s it?"

His jaw tightens.

He doesn’t answer.

Because he doesn’t know.

And that’s the worst part.

Not the photo. Not the headlines. Not the fact that the world is picking apart something she doesn’t even understand herself.

It’s this.

The hesitation in his voice. The conflict in his eyes. The way he looks at her like he wants to pull her close but knows he shouldn’t.

She waits.

Waits for him to take it back.

To say something, anything, that makes this hurt less.

But he doesn’t.

His throat bobs, his fingers twitch at his sides, his mouth parts slightly—like he might speak.

But he doesn’t.

She exhales shakily, her vision blurring.

And when she finally turns, when she finally walks away—

He doesn’t stop her.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Thank you so much for reading! I appreciate any support so remember to comment, reblog, & like ❤️‍🔥

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[lemoncrushh]

MASTERLIST

>> Learn a little about me and my writing here <<

Everything is in order from oldest to newest. Unfortunately, all of my 2015 blurbs and one-shots got deleted from Wattpad, and I didn't have them saved anywhere else, so we begin with 2016.

The 2016 Blurbs

Taboo You and Harry have a little fun in the bathroom during a party.

Victoria's Secret Harry meets Victoria, a beautiful plus-size woman, at a party and is quite smitten with her.

The One Where Harry Tries to Win You Back When Harry cancels your date again, you decide to go out alone.

Drunk Me Is Like Regular Me You and Harry have a cute and silly evening together. AKA, Harry can’t help being cute, even when he’s drunk.

Happy Place While staying at a cabin with friends, Harry comforts you when you’re feeling down.

You're Never This Quiet Harry has been quiet all evening and you wonder why.

You Said You'd Never Leave You worry that you can no longer handle being Harry’s girlfriend.

Show Me Your Texts, or It's Over Harry finds out you've been in contact with your ex and gives you an ultimatum.

Just for the Record After returning home from a concert with Harry, you share a smoke and a bed.

Scars You have scars and are hesitant about letting Harry see you naked for the first time.

I Miss You You’ve grown frustrated and lonely because Harry is always busy.

Best Friends You and Harry are best friends, but he would love for it be more.

Rooms On Fire (The Morning After) You meet Harry Styles at a party and have an amazing night.

Slave 4 U 2 Harry is ready to take you home for a little role play.

The Opera You and Harry can’t keep your hands off each other at the opera.

My Home You and Harry visit his family, but you have to stay in Gemma’s room.

A Night Out with Harry You take care of Harry after a drunken night out.

Back For You Harry is in town, and you go visit him at the hotel.

Melt A sexy evening with Harry.

Heartstrings You become One Direction’s new guitarist and you and your best friend Harry realize you have feelings for each other.

What's It Like You can’t sleep and decide to pay Harry a visit in the next room.

The Lucky One Harry is not too pleased when you run into your old high school crush at a restaurant.

Too Long It’s been too long since you and Harry have had sex.

Anniversary Pancakes Harry and his daughter make breakfast for his wife on their anniversary

We're Gonna Have a Baby Telling Harry he’s gonna be a dad.

Lyrics and Melodies: AM A very smitten Harry takes Julia back to his place for drinks and more music.

Claiming His Territory Harry gets jealous when he thinks another guy fancies you, and he decides to claim his territory.

This Is Me You're Talking To You and Harry are divorced, but you both still have feelings for each other.

Meeting Harry Styles After actress Mia Tangelo meets Harry Styles at a One Direction concert, he surprises her by showing up at her film premiere.

What Are You Doing New Year's Eve? Harry invites Rebecca to his Christmas party, but she overthinks too much, misinterpreting his intentions and nearly missing out on her chance to be with him on New Year’s Eve.

Kiss Me Kiss Me Samantha and Harry’s story of young romance and a first kiss.

Sweat Some post-workout sex.

Saturday Night Harry needs comforting after his performance on SNL.

Live From New York Harry’s on SNL and he gets a little jealous when he thinks you’re not there for him.

Leather and Lace The night Harry sang with Stevie at the Troubadour.

I Wish That It Could Be Like That An affair with Harry has taken its toll and is no longer enough.

Faithfully Harry shares the story of how you two met and fell in love.

Running On Empty An unfortunate incident at the gym.

Sometimes It Be That Way Soon after a breakup, Lilliana met Harry…but their relationship may have been doomed from the start.

Stones T-Shirt Commenting on Harry’s Rolling Stones shirt at a party leads to going to a concert with him.

Carrot Cake Harry has something he’s been wanting to ask Y/N, but the timing is never right.

Kinda Perfect It’s a girls’ night out and Harry shows up, but you decide not to let your new friend Tiffany know that Harry is your boyfriend.

What Happens In Vegas... Your Vegas trip to celebrate your friend’s birthday turns into a night you hadn’t expected when you meet Harry Styles in the casino.

Easy Like Sunday Morning It's your last day with Harry before he leaves.

Connect Not wanting to lose their connection, Lily takes a surprise trip to see Harry.

Comfort Food Jessica, a self-proclaimed foodie, helps her classmate Harry study for their Biology test.

Her Album Harry has finished recording his album, and he wants her to hear it. [in Harry's POV]

Ruin the Friendship It’s Ella’s birthday, and her best friend Harry plans to tell her how he feels about her.

You and I Alyssa always wanted Harry, so every time he called, she was there waiting for him at the bar. But one night, things shifted between them.

Rain Rain Lexie is on her way to visit her sister, and she’s taking Harry on the road trip with her, planning to drop him off at his friend’s house for a wedding. But the weather has other plans.

That Sunday, That Summer Kelly’s roommate Bianca talks her into participating in a celebrity charity scavenger hunt that Harry Styles surprisingly attends.

Friends Don't Harry and Gabriella have been good friends for a few years. But neither of them knows the feelings the other has.

Mistletoe & Holly Harry finally reveals to his friend Holly how he feels about her on her birthday…which just happens to be Christmas.

Dressing For Revenge // Part 2 Still heartbroken from finding your ex cheating on you, you go to a nightclub with your friend Kelsie, where not only do you run into your ex, but also a handsome gentleman who’s willing to help you get over him.

Kiss Me Deadly The annual Halloween party at the local pub has Y/N excited when she decides to invite her boss at the University, Mr. Styles. But she soon begins to second guess her decision when Harry starts acting odd. Is Harry Styles really who she thinks he is? Will this Halloween be a fantasy come true…or the kiss of death?

Through the Wall Harry is your handsome neighbour, and you keep hearing him through the wall.

bad idea harry styles is back from uni and he looks better than you remember. problem is, he's your ex's brother.

break up with your girlfriend, i'm bored part 2 of bad idea - after that one night with harry, you can't stop thinking about him...but things don't exactly turn out like you'd hoped.

Touch You’ve been having a hard time getting yourself off, so your roommate Harry offers a hand.

Filthy Cute You and Harry are in a secret relationship, and you get a little jealous when you think he’s flirting with your friend.

Out of Bounds After a few years of being a housewife, Tisa Jordan decided to go back to school. Hoping to find inspiration and a new direction in life, she didn’t expect to meet Harry Styles, a handsome British twenty-year-old. [39 chapters]

Cubicle  I’m Harry. I have a mundane job where I sit in a cubicle all day. But things just got better because the hottest babe just started working here. And I’m determined to make her mine, even if just for one night. I’m Roni. I just started this new job, but all I can think about is the hottie in the corner cubicle. I think he likes me too. [22 chapters]

Fratboy Harry Harry Styles was a boy with a reputation, one that you couldn’t care less about. Yet one night at a frat party changed everything. [10 parts]

The Entertainer Set in the 70s, Sky Jones, a young woman from L.A., meets Harry Styles, an up-and-coming musician and frontman for the band Wildfire. Told in first person from Sky’s point of view, she shares her journey and what it’s like to fall for a rockstar. [10 parts]

Too Far From Texas Stacey Barnett is a writer and a single mother. Her hands full with two daughters (one with special needs), a newly published novel, an extroverted best friend and a controlling ex-husband, the last thing she expects is to meet an international pop star. [33 chapters]

Seven Six Five They met once seven years ago. Now music has made them cross paths again. (Real Harry x Plus Size OC, enemies to lovers) [6 parts]

Tattooed Heart You are a cocktail waitress at a swanky lounge. Harry comes in one night, and you instantly dislike him. But another encounter eventually changes your opinion. (Tattoo artist!harry x waitress y/n, enemies to lovers) [6 parts]

The Entertainer II * Updates will be sporadic * What if it wasn’t the end? What if Sky did actually see Harry at the Forum in the early 80s, and he saw her too? What if fate took hold of them both, and they realized their journey was not over? Set in 1981, Harry and Sky’s story continues with more music, more romance, and a few more twists and turns.

Wild Horses * Updates will be sporadic * Amber Crosby didn’t end up with the life she’d expected, but that didn’t keep her from following her dream. A young, up and coming country recording artist, she and her band set out to do just that. Trying to leave her past behind, it wasn’t until meeting Harry Styles that she realized just how her life could take a turn and alter her future forever.

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Inbox (for requests, feedback or general chat)

divider credit

[finelinejua]

‘For four years, they were each other's anchor amid the chaos of fame. But fame demands its own price.

"Am I enough for you?" Julia once asked, her voice laced with doubt.

The glitz and pressure that once fueled their creativity turned into cracks in their relationship. The love that burned so brightly began to feel suffocating.

In their quietest moments, Harry admitted the truth neither wanted to face: "I love you, but I don't think we're happy anymore."

In the echoes of their love, they must decide if some stories are truly meant to end-or if the music will bring them back together.’

https://www.wattpad.com/1510360043?utm_source=ios&utm_medium=link&utm_content=share_reading&wp_page=reading_part_end&wp_uname=finelinejua

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62595097

[thecuriousbeauty]

Traitor-The Present

Chapter 2

Word count: 5,075

Warnings: Violence, gun, blood, nightmare, slight panic attack.

Author's note: Thank you for the love on Chapter one! Feedback is appreciated:) Here's the link if you've not read it: Chapter One

There was no way y/n could follow Harry around all day, he was a busy doctor. He had patients to tend to. For the time being, she didn't have a better idea except to continue meeting him at the bar. 

"Have you always wanted to be a doctor?", she asks the man, clad in a lime green shirt today. He seemed like he was in better spirits than he was the previous night, so y/n took the opportunity. 

"I..don't know.", Harry's eyebrows furrow, like he tried to think, and it hurt him to remember. "I know how to treat people."

"That's nice.", y/n nods. "It must be a big responsibility, having lives of people in your hands."

"I think I'm used to it.", he replies shortly. "Why are you so interested?", he looks up at her.

"Just like that.", she shrugs. "Can I not make friends? I'm new to this town."

"Why did you come here?", he asks.

"Less expenses than in the city.", y/n sighs, looking around at the bar. Girls swinging their hips on the dance floors, guys looking at them like they were a piece of meat, and lots of loud music blasting. This wasn't her scene at all.

"You don't like getting drinks.", Harry tells her, more like a statement than a question. He was observing her too.

"I don't mind the drinks, it's the whole scene I don't like. I prefer spending my free nights in my bed, with ice cream and a good novel."

Harry cracked what looked like a small smile, one of the dimples on his cheek popping, which made y/n feel warm. She cursed herself for feeling like that, before continuing with the talk. "You said you want to make friends. I'm not the right guy, y/n.", Harry says.

"Why? You're ice cold, mean and friendless? What a sad lifestyle you must lead, Doctor."

He chuckles, popping some of the fried peanuts into his mouth. "I'm not cold and mean."

"So you are friendless.", y/n concludes.

"What's the point? I don't have time for friends.", he says.

"But you need friends in your life, Harry. Friends support you through hard times, you can be yourself with them, and you can have lots of fun!"

"Friends also betray you.", he grumbles.

"Have you been betrayed be a friend or a close one?", y/n asks, trying to know if there were people he thought plotting against him and Reagen in the past.

"I don't remember.", he snaps, motioning for the bartender to fill up his drink. y/n waits for him to calm down, watching him tip the entire glass down his throat and groan. 

"Whiskey's your choice of poison?", she asks, flinching. She doesn't like the burn of whiskey.

"Yes, but it's too much for someone like you. You should try something sweeter, like rum.", he says. "Old Monk rum for the lady please.", he tells the bartender.

"What do you mean by someone like you?", she raises her eyebrows at him.

"You know what I mean.", he simply says. y/n decided to come back to the topic of friends. "Do you have a best friend?"

Harry freezes again, and y/n observes the look in his eyes like he was trying to remember a painful memory. Oliver had told her that Harry was his best friend. He needed his best friend back, and she heard the suffering in his voice when he told her that. "N-No..no, I don't think so, I don't know. I have memory issues, I don't remember a lot of stuff."

y/n nods. "That's okay. Well, I can be your best friend. I mean, I can start by being your friend and then we can see how it goes."

Harry smirks. "You really want to be my friend, don't you?"

"Be grateful I'm taking pity on you, Mr. Friendless mysterious guy.", y/n replies, and Harry laughs. y/n smiles. So he does remember how to laugh.

The bartender keeps her drink in front of her. "I've never tried this before.", y/n says, looking at the dark, sweet smelling liquid.

"You'll like it.", Harry says confidently. "Trust your new friend's drink choosing ability."

y/n grins and tries it. The liquid drink went down smooth, leaving her mouth refreshing and quenching for more. It had almost a dehydrated berry taste to it, which she really loved. She also felt the slight warmth of the alcohol.

"I do like it.", she decides, taking another sip. "How did you know?"

"Just like that.", he shrugs, imitating her from their conversation earlier, and she smiled, liking him more as she got to know him a little. "Oh and by the way you agreed to us being friends.", she adds, in case he let it slip by accident.

"Just friends, y/n?", he gets up after stuffing some cash inside the book the bill came in. y/n sits there thinking about what he said, and he gives her a small wave. "I'm gonna get to bed, see you around."

Harry leaves the bar, leaving y/n pondering. Did he want something more than friendship with her? She couldn't deny that she wasn't attracted to the man, but she couldn't take advantage of him like that. She was already feeling bad for befriending him for someone else. She was only using him and he didn't know that. She decided that she wouldn't let her feelings grow. Yes, he was handsome, and it was natural to get attracted, but she wasn't going to let anything else happen between them. 

______________________________________________________

The painting was gorgeous. It as crafted with such bright tones, and beautiful color bleding. y/n had poured all of her emotion into it. It was piece she didn't look at very often. She didn't keep it for sale either. It was personal. 

The woman in the painting was made of a mix of colors. Her eyes were standing out behind wide framed glasses, and she wore an intriguing and knowing smirk on her lips. Her hair fell down in blunt bangs over her forehead and framed her oval face.

"This is beautiful.", Harry speaks. "You paint more of landscapes, who is this woman?"

y/n sucks in a breath, approaching a sensitive topic. "I don't know..I think it's my mom. I remember how she looked like..but my Uncle Luke said my parents left me when I was little."

Harry tears his eyes away from the painting, looking at her. "I'm sorry. You haven't tried to contact them?"

y/n shakes her head. "I've thought about it, but I don't know if I can take whatever the truth is. And I'm happy with my Uncle."

Harry nods, looking at the other paintings. "Can I buy it?"

"Sure, which one?"

"All of it?"

"All of it!?"

"I have a new flat, it's empty.", Harry says flatly, like it was obvious. "This would look nice on the walls."

"But all of them is going to look like an art gallery and less of a flat, Harry. Um let's select a few out, okay?", y/n says, and Harry nods. "I'll have to see what your flat looks like, to know what matches."

y/n wanted to see if she can get her hands on any pictures, any files, or anything that can point out to his past life.

"Fine, let's have tea at my place.", Harry agrees and she smiles, nodding. "See, you're getting the hang of things for someone who hasn't had friends before."

Harry only gave the girl a small smile, continuing to look around her studio. 

Harry's flat was huge. Two bedrooms, a big kitchen with a patio, a beautiful balcony overlooking the small town. It was neutral themed, the colors brown and cream. Harry makes them tea, and brings out some cookies as they sit on the couch. 

"For looks like yours, you had to have been in love at least once.", y/n says, and Harry keeps his cup of tea down. "Maybe. Don't remember. Are you saying I'm handsome?"

y/n bites her lip as Harry smirks. "I didn't say that. You may be good looking, that's all."

"Sure, whatever you say."

"She must have been lucky, whoever the girl was.", y/n tries to get it out of him. Come on, please remember something so I know you really are the person Romania told me about. 

Harry sighs, bringing his hand to his forehead like he had a headache. "I-I..I don't believe in it."

"Believe in love?", y/n asks, and he nods, bringing his hand back and looking at her with those beautiful eyes. "Do you believe in love y/n?"

y/n nods. "Of course. Love is like this overwhelming sentiment that keeps you up all night and makes you feel like a little child waiting for Christmas day. The feeling of having a soulmate and a place you can really call home, that sounds promising."

Harry's eyes ran over soft features, as he spoke, "You sound like you have been in love."

y/n laughs, biting into a cookie. "Nah, me? I talk too much, and I'm weird. Who would want to love me?"

"There might be someone.", Harry whispers softly, but not soft enough so y/n couldn't hear it.

__________________________________________

"I'm not sure if he is the man you're looking for.", y/n tells Romania on the phone. "He doesn't remember anything about his past, and he's such a sweet guy! He's a doctor who saves lives for god sake, he's not your mafia boss!"

"He's had you fooled by his charm, Miss y/l/n.", Romania huffs. "The reason he remained our secret weapon was because of how easily he could blend in. Do not fall for his charm, it's all an act."

"I think he really doesn't remember, Romania.", y/n twirls a strand of her hair around her finger, worried about what she has to do.

"He does, y/n. I have to believe he does, for his own good.", Romania sighs. "Or we have to kill him."

y/n's hand freezes over the phone. "K-Kill him?"

"Yes, he's a threat to our opponents. He knows too much. If they get to him first..", Romania drawls off. "You won't understand, y/n, just know that he is very important. You are our last hope. If you cannot prove that he remembers, then we will kill him. At least he'll get to be with Reagen then."

"Y-You can't kill him.", y/n whispers, her heart beating fast. What did she agree to? She made a deal with people capable of killing a poor man?

"Then do your job, y/n. I'm sending another fifty thousand to your account. Update me soon." Romania hung up with that, and y/n sat down heavily, hand on her forehead. She has to find a way to break into his shell. She doesn't want to be responsible for the death of a man.

__________________________________________________________

Broken windows. Blood covering the pieces of glass. Someone held a gun to her forehead, the face unclear. The wind was strong, piercing her skin. Then she heard the trigger being pulled and a shot being fired.

y/n wakes up with a gasp, her body sweating under the linen sheets. She closes her eyes, pressing a hand to her heart in relief. It was just a dream. The same dream she keeps having. Uncle Luke had told her to stop watching and reading mystery. This was the consequence.

Her thoughts went to Harry as she pours herself some water. She wasn't even supposed to ask questions to Romania. There were so many questions she had. About his line of work, about his family, about why the opponents had stayed away from him so far, and most importantly, about Reagen. How did they meet? How was their relationship? Were they going to get married?

So many questions she couldn't have the answers to.

The next morning, her Uncle Luke wanted to go on a walk, so she went with him. "Boy troubles.", Uncle Luke observes. "Who is it?"

"It's no one.", y/n dismisses it, feet trudging over the fallen autumn leaves. She didn't like the town, but she couldn't help but admit it was pretty. Full of trees.

"Really?", Uncle Luke teases and she sighs, giving up. "It's just Harry."

"Who's Harry?"

Her uncle had forgotten all about her side job, and the mysterious guy she was spying on. y/n cooked up a story about a customer named Harry to make Uncle Luke happy. She would do anything for him.

She fixed up some breakfast for him before rushing to the cafe. She was running a little late. She got to her painting. Then sat at a table, eating a lovely sugary custard pastry and drinking her ice lemon mint tea while she had a break.

"Do you always eat so much sugar?"

She looked up surprised to see Harry. "It's not good for your health.", he says, before sitting down across from her. "After you shove the sugary cereal down your throat for breakfast, you have this as your everyday snack?"

"Woah, don't go Doctor mode on me.", y/n laughs, continuing to enjoy her pastry. "But it's so good, and this is the only time I'm relaxing, so let me have my pastry, okay?"

"Suit yourself.", Harry eyes it with disgust. 

"Aren't you supposed to be at the hospital?", y/n asks him.

"It's my day off.", he answers, eyes moving to her lips as he watched her tongue peek out to clean up the little bits of custard. "Thought to spend it with my friend."

"Ahh.", y/n smiles. "How do you wanna spend it then?"

"Someone once told me it's fun to have ice cream and watch a movie. Show me how it's fun."

"Is that a challenge?", y/n grins, quickly downing the rest of her drink. 

"Sure.", Harry gives her a signature smirk, before he leaned forward to bring his hand up to her face. His hand rests on her cheek as his thumb gently rubs away a bit of custard on the side of her mouth. y/n felt goosebumps on her skin as he touched her, and their eyes meet. y/n gets lost in the depth of Harry's eyes. She saw something she hadn't seen before. 

Pain.

Harry quickly pulled away and y/n grabbed a tissue. "Give me a minute.", she told him, and he nodded, waiting for her. y/n had done her paintings for the day, and she signed out of the cafe. 

They went to the grocery store to pick up some goods, all while talking happily like friends. Harry was lowering the guard he had up, and although that made y/n happy, it made her guilty at the same time. He thought she was his friend. He was trusting her. 

And what was she doing? 

She was using his friendship to get out some information that she doesn't care about, out of him so she can get the rest of her money from the deal and lead her life.

A man lurking behind them caught y/n's attention in the grocery store. She ushered them to the next aisle, and she saw another man at the end of it. Both of them were looking at Harry like he was their worst enemy.

y/n remembered what Romania had told her about their opponents. 

"Harry, let's get out of here.", y/n keeps her hand on his arm, feeling the urge to protect him. He did not deserve this. He didn't even know who he is. 

"Wait, we didn't get the kind of noodles you like-"

"-This will do." y/n puts one of the instant ramen packets into their trolley, staring back at the men hoping they'll back off. "Come on."

Harry follows her with the trolley, oblivious to the men watching him. He offered to pay, and y/n quickly gets them back into her car. 

"Why were you rushing?", Harry asks.

"I um..I have to pee!"

"There was a restroom inside.", Harry points out.

"Yes I'm scared of urinary tract infections, yeast infections especially, they're so nasty, have you seen the pictures? I'm scared of using public toilets.", she lies, and rambles on.

Harry looked at her for a second, before doubling over and laughing. y/n smiled sheepishly, adoration filling her as she watched him laugh. That laugh did things to her. 

"Well okay let's go then, you have to pee!", he says, and they both laugh as y/n pulls out of the parking lot, missing the two men staring at them from a distance.

_____________________________________

y/n watches Harry as he immerses in the movie, watching it with interest. They had obviously decided on a crime thriller. She had seen before, and she was more interested in studying the tall man beside her, lounging in his sweatpants, curled up on his couch. 

"You're right, I should do this more often.", Harry mumbles, leaning back and stealing a glance at y/n. "You sleepy?"

y/n was a little sleepy with the lack of sleep last night, but she shakes her head, rubbing her eyes. "Not at all!"

A mountain of blankets and half eaten snacks rested on the coffee table in front of them, and she knew she probably wouldn't make it through the whole movie but she had to. 

"Did you go to a doctor about your memory issues?", y/n decides to bite, and Harry heard her, but he still asks, "Sorry?"

"You have memory issues, you can't remember a lot of things. Have you seen a doctor about that?"

Harry pauses the movie. "No. It won't help."

"Why not?"

"I've tried taking medicine, it won't come back. I lost those memories for a reason y/n, I don't want to bring them back. Just like how you don't want to reach out to your parents.", Harry answers, jaw clenching. "I have a good life here. I'm happy."

"Are you though?", y/n leans forward to him. "Are you really happy, Harry?"

Harry remained quiet, studying her face. "It doesn't matter."

"It does! I wish to see you happy. If we can get your past behind you, maybe you can-"

"-I'm already behind it. I don't know what happened in the past, and I don't care. Can we just watch the movie?"

y/n sighed in defeat, but nodded, curling back on the other side of the couch as Harry presses play on the movie. How the hell was she going to get him to remember who he was?

y/n can't fight of the sleep for too long. Harry sees her dozing off, and a fond smile coats his lips as he looks at her. He wanted to carry her to bed, where she could sleep more comfortably but he figured he wouldn't without her permission. Instead, he went to his room to get his blanket and tucked it around her small frame. 

He hated anyone in his personal space, but this was y/n. He could make an exception. Hell, he had already invited her into his house.

y/n mumbles incoherently in her sleep, and Harry coots closer to her, keeping a hand on her arm, in case she was having a bad dream, and continued to watch the movie.

y/n saw the same dream again. Blood. Broken window. Glass. Gun. 

Harry frowned as her serene, peaceful face split into a disturbed one. Her eyebrows scrunching, and her legs tucking underneath her chin. She began to shake lightly.

"y/n.", Harry shakes her awake gently.

y/n runs in her dream, away from the gun, but the shot is still fired from the gun. Before she could see who was injured, she jolts awake.

Her scared eyes meet Harry's. "Hey, it's okay, you're in my flat, we were watching a movie and you fell asleep.", Harry strokes some of her hair back from her forehead as she looks at him, like she wanted reassurance that she's safe. 

Harry doesn't hesitate before pulling her into his lap, wrapping his muscular strong arms around her, and tucking her head into his chest. "Shh..it's okay, you're okay. It was just a dream."

He felt a strong emotion to kill anyone or anything that caused y/n to get so scared. He knew it was in her dream, but he hated the thought of y/n being hurt. She was so delicate, so sweet, he had to protect her.

"H-Harry?", y/n whispers into his chest, her arms tightening around his body.

"Yes?", Harry whispers back, continuing to stroke her hair to soothe her. 

"I'm sorry.", she sniffles, and he gets confused. Was she apologizing for having a bad dream? He had a feeling it was for something else. Either way, she was shaken up and his job was to get her to relax and make her feel okay.

"Don't be, sunshine. I got you."

______________________________________________________

y/n felt horrible. She felt like a monster. Here there was a man who comforted her when she was scared, and on the other hand, what was she doing? She was just doing her task. She would eventually throw him to Romania like he was a piece of meat. y/n felt like electricity was coursing through her veins when Harry's hands smoothed over her body and her hair, calming her down. He scooped her into his lap with no effort, and y/n felt safe.

She felt safe like she never had before. She wanted to stay in his arms forever and forget everything else that happened. She wished she'd met this man before all the Romania and money crap. She wanted to call her and tell her she couldn't do it anymore, but she couldn't back away now. Harry is not showing any signs of who he was five years ago. If he really is that person, then y/n needs to bring his memories back. His friends, or a family y/n doesn't know about, they need him. 

She apologized to him, said that she's sorry for hurting him and doing this to him, but he thought she was worrying about her dream scare. If only he knew the truth.

Then there was what he called her. He called her sunshine. It sounded so sweet, and she wishes he calls her that again. y/n could no longer deny it. She had feelings for Harry, and the feelings kept growing. 

One week. It has been seven days since she started her task. She has only three more weeks to get Harry to open up. She has to gain his trust first. Yes, he's letting her into his house, he's getting comfortable around her, but she has to gain his full trust. 

"Here you go, chicken alfredo. You need some real food after all that ice cream.", Harry smiles as he serves the pasta he just made into two plates. 

"I didn't know you could cook.", y/n says impressed as she sits on the chair. 

"How could you? You've never had my food before. Now you know.", Harry answers, sitting beside her with his plate. He watched her as she tastes it. y/n let the creamy pasta satisfy her taste buds, and the flavorful bite of the chicken was amazing.

"It's so good.", she hums. "You're multi talented. Any other hobbies? Secret gamer? Guitarist? Cyber hacking? Gold smuggler?" y/n waits for his response to the last two.

Harry chuckles, eating his own pasta. "Gold smuggler?"

"I don't know, mystery guy. You tell me.", y/n says playfully.

"Not that I know of. But that would be an interesting secret hobby, wouldn't it y/n?", he asks, giving her a look. What was that look? Was it a knowing look? Was he teasing her? Was he hiding?

"I guess, y-yeah.", y/n replies shortly.

If he is hiding, he's doing a very good job of it. He remembers everything, he's putting up an act, a mask. Romania's words lingered in y/n's brain.

"I do play the guitar. How did you know?", he asks, pouring some water into both of their glasses.

"Your fingers are calloused.", y/n states her observation. 

"Observant, I see.", Harry nods impressed. "You ask so much about me. What are your interests besides painting and reading thriller novels?"

y/n laughs. "Watching thriller movies." Harry rolls his eyes, and she grins. "Okay. Um..I don't really know, I don't get time Harry."

"You should explore yourself some more.", he mumbles.

"Oh? Says Mr. Always Busy Doctor."

He shrugs, and y/n looks at her phone as it rings. It was her Uncle Luke.

"Sorry, gotta take this.", she excuses herself, and Harry nods, twirling the pasta around his fork. 

"Uncle Luke?", y/n answers, and hears panting on the other line. "W-Where am I?"

She keeps her fork down, fear creeping up. "You're at home, Uncle Luke, everything okay? Did you go out somewhere?"

"y/n..w-where are you?", her uncle's voice came out in a whimper and she stands up immediately. Harry looks at her with a frown. 

"I'm at a friend's house, I'll come over now, okay? Don't worry, you're at home. Look around, what do you see?", she replies calmly, even though she was freaking out.

"S-Stairs..p-pictures on the walls. Of us."

y/n sighs in relief. He is at home. "Yes, it's safe, Uncle Luke. You're at home, okay? I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Come soon..sweetheart.", he whispered, and y/n feels her heart break at his small voice. "I will. I love you."

She stuffs her phone into her pocket and looks at Harry. "I'm sorry I have to go, my uncle needs me."

"I'll come with you.", Harry was already putting away their plates.

"No, Harry, it's okay..my place is small and it's a mess and..you don't wanna be there.", y/n says embarrassed.

"y/n, I didn't always have a flat like this. I used to live on the streets for a few months. Then someone who said they know me came and told me that I'm a Doctor. I managed to get my license back, and everything worked out. I know what it's like, okay?" Harry squeezes her shoulder gently.

y/n quickly stored in her brain the information he had shared. Then she felt bad. He told her because he thought she was his friend.

"Okay, come with me.", she agrees. Harry and y/n leave Zach's flat, and it's a twenty minute drive to y/n's place.

"Your uncle..", Harry drawls, waiting for her to complete.

"Alzheimer's.", she answers, and Harry nods understanding. They didn't talk on the way. y/n was worried, and Harry wasn't used to starting conversations.

When she got home, y/n runs to her Uncle who was sitting at the end of the stairs. "D-Did you fall?", she gasps, seeing him clutch his foot like he was in pain.

"Y-Yes.", Uncle Luke nods, arms leaning to pull his niece into a hug. "y/n. Are you okay?"

"I'm okay, Uncle, shh..", y/n assures, holding him tight and feeling guilty. She had left him alone and he fell. "Y-You didn't fall down all the stairs, did you?"

"No I tripped on the last few.", he answers. "I think my balance is off. I'm okay I think..I just needed to see you."

y/n nods, kissing his cheek. "It's okay, I told you that you can always call me. I'm glad you did." She looks over him to see if he was injured.

"W-Who's this young man?", Uncle Luke looks up at Harry who was silently watching their exchange.

"He's Harry, I told you about him, remember?"

y/n looks back at Harry, who was looking at her uncle with an expression she couldn't read. Uncle Luke nods at him. "Sorry our first meeting is like this."

"I don't mind.", Harry leans down to help him stand up. y/n took one arm and Harry the other, Uncle Luke was brought back on his feet. 

"Does your ankle hurt?", y/n notices as he winces, and he nods. 

"I can take a look.", Harry says. "Let's get him to bed."

They got Uncle Luke back to his room, and y/n makes him drink some water. Harry sat on the edge of the bed and his fingertips ran over Uncle Luke's ankle as he examined it. Harry did his prodding, checked the movement on the ankle, and observed that there was no swelling, but a purplish bruise forming. He did not feel any broken bones.

"It's a small sprain.", he tells them. "You have a crepe bandage, y/n?It should be there in a first aid kit."

"I think so, let me see.", y/n says, and goes to the cupboard near the sink where she keeps basic first aid. 

Uncle Luke stares at Harry, making sure his niece is gone, before spitting out, "What are you doing with y/n?"

"We're friends.", Harry answers patiently, although he did not like the tone Uncle Luke spoke in.

"Don't you dare get close to my niece. I know all about you, Harry Styles.", Uncle Luke uses his full name, and Harry did not even know that that was his full name. He's used to people coming up to him and calling him that, then they threaten him and go away. 

"Do tell me, cause I don't remember.", Harry says, and Uncle Luke grabs his collar with an iron grip. A weak man like him shouldn't be this strong, Harry notes. 

"You think you're smart, don't you? Doctor Turner, huh? We're just waiting for the right time. You killed my family. I will watch you being burned down to the ground, Styles."

"What the hell are you talking about?", Harry exclaims, trying to get his hand off of him. 

"Oh my god. Uncle Luke, stop!", y/n rushes over, and Uncle Luke lets him go, his face full of hatred and anger. "I'm so sorry Harry!", she says to him apologetically.

"It's okay.", Harry tells her, staring at her uncle. "Illness does it."

y/n nods, rubbing her Uncle's arms, calming him down. "I'm here, Uncle. Harry's my friend, it's okay."

He didn't answer, just kept looking at Harry as he wrapped his injured ankle up. "Keep it elevated, ice pack on and off. It should be fine in two days.", he said when he was done, and left the room.

"I'll be right back.", y/n tells her uncle, before running behind Harry.

"Harry!"

Harry pauses near the door. "I'm so sorry, I don't know what got into him.", y/n grabs his hand to stop him from storming out. Harry nods, a little shaken up with what her uncle had said. You killed my family.

Harry was a Doctor. He saved people, he didn't kill them. He knew her uncle was sick, but the fire in his eyes when he looked at him? He couldn't shake it away.

"He's turning delusional, I'll make an appointment with his doctor for tomorrow.", y/n shakes her head, stressed about what to do. Harry thought she had too much of stress in her life. He could see the dark circles under her eyes due to the lack of sleep. He wanted to ask her about it, but now wasn't the time.

"I-I have to go, y/n", Harry tells her, and y/n nods, standing on her tip toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you for your help. You're a good man, Harry."

Was he? 

Harry's fingers went to his cheek where she had kissed him as he stepped outside the door. Her touch made him feel less anxious. He hoped it would leave him calm enough to get some sleep tonight. His thoughts shifted to the girl who came into his life just a week ago. She was perfect. He had a chance to make things different from last time. 

After all, she's his to ruin, isn't she?

[bottlesofrouge]

☆ on one condition ☆ masterlist ☆

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

-ˏˋ i'll do it on one condition," harry drinks from his water glass and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "you can't fall in love with me."

"ah, there's the harry i know," lynn flicks her crinkled straw wrapper at his face, and it lands in the middle of his salad. he frowns and tries to fish it out with his fork, but he decides he's not really that hungry anymore. "something tells me that won't be a problem." ˊˎ-

one.

two.

three.

four.

five.

six.

seven.

✰ part eight soon ✰

[writingsfromhome]

Dos and Don’ts II

A/N: the story kinda got away from me so it’s getting a part 3. Would love to know what you think of the characters/choices!

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

—————————————————

It’s a beautiful morning; the late summer heat is right around the hour but for now the morning clouds keeps the city cool. I’m sat at Harry’s dinner table with stacks of paper around me, sorting out paperwork whilst on hold with a private venue he was playing in the fall to sort out some details his manager asked me for.

I had become good at my job, multitasking like a pro and not having to leave the room to make a call. After all, it had been nearly half a year of this.

And yet, my relationship with Harry Styles had stayed the same. Sometimes it felt like it got worse.

My other relationships, in the rest of my life, had definitely gotten worse.

“Riley just called said he’s sent over some prints I bought for the bedroom,” Harry pops into the room. “Can you call someone to put them up?”

“Yeah, where do you want them?” I get up so he can show me.

“Somewhere that looks good in there,” he waves his hand. “It’s pictures of me.”

“Of course they are,” I know how big-headed he could be. “Above the bed?”

“Hm,” he heads off to the bedroom so I follow. He examines each wall of his bedroom which was pretty neutral and relaxing to be in. “Why not? Yeah. Above the bed’s good.”

“Great.” With that I head back to my makeshift office.

I wondered why Riley didn’t message me directly about the prints considering we avoided getting Harry involved in these minor decisions.

Maybe I’d ask him tonight. We were having drinks—we tried a bunch of times to get together seeing we were “coworkers” but our timing rarely worked out. Since Gray was out of town the next two nights I’d reached out to Riley.

Evening comes quicker while I’m still buried behind paper. I start tidying up after 7.

“Going home?” Harry asks. He’d been out most of the day at voice lessons.

“Yes, your dinner’s in the oven and Roy said he left cocktails in the fridge.”

“Lovely Roy,” Harry rubs his hands together. “He makes the best drinks.”

I smile and go back to work.

“There’s enough for two,” he calls with his head in the fridge. “You want to join?”

Of course the one night Harry asks me to join him personally—a time I could use to get on his good side, I’m going out.

“I’m actually heading out for drinks myself.” He’s already placed the jug on the marble countertop.

“Oh.” He freezes awkwardly. “With your fiancé?”

“No,” for some reason I feel flustered at his mention of Gray. “With Riley actually. We’ve been meaning to get together for drinks since…I started. Wow. That’s been a long time.”

“Riley,” Harry purses his lips. “Does your fiancé know?”

“It’s a friendly drink,” I feel my temper flare. “I don’t need to report to my fiance.”

“If my fiancé was going out to drinks with a man with loose hands, I’d worry.”

“Well it’s a good thing we’re not engaged,” I mouth off before I can stop myself. He raises a brow and the single movement has me backpedaling. I was such a coward. “So you don’t have to worry.”

“Y/n you get away with a lot but I’d remember who’s working for who.”

I clench my teeth. Just seconds ago he was inviting me for a drink and now I’ve dug myself a grave. I couldn’t be stopped.

I grab my bag and head to the elevator.

“Don’t turn your back on him once he’s got a few drinks in.” Harry calls out.

Asshole, I think.

***

God, Riley talked a lot. He’s got 3 drinks to my 1.5 and really got the gift of the gab.

That is until he starts asking me about Harry.

“Do you find him hot? He’s kind of a lady’s man yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” I laugh. “Got ‘em all lined up.”

“And you?” He asks casually. “Has he got you yet?”

“Riley! I’m engaged,” I flash my ring.

“Didn’t stop the last girl,” he mutters.

“What? What’s that mean?”

“Nothing.”

“Tell me,” I poke him, knowing he wanted to talk about it anyway.

“Just that the last PA he had for…less than a year? She had a boyfriend and everything but one time I pop in early to set up for this masseuse right—I’m there and I hear someone in the bedroom with him. No big deal whatever. Then Harry comes out and he’s fuming just seeing me. Tells me to get out and leave the rest, that I should have called him. All this shite. And then I see her jacket, she wore a very specific jacket, and her shoes off the way. He was angry cuz I caught them.”

“Woah,” I think about the way Harry treats me. “Well I don’t have to worry about that. He can be a right dick with me.”

“He can come off that way. Until you get to know him. Well. He used to be nicer. It’s changed a bit since I started.”

“How long?” I ask, curious.

“Uhh I was his PA for a year and now this for one and a half?”

“Wow. That’s a long time.”

“I know. Too long. Well, big things are coming for me I can feel it. How about you? Are you staying long? I hear the way he talks to you, I don’t know how you put up with it.”

I thought he talked to all his PAs that way. Maybe he was different when Riley was his. Of maybe it was that Riley was a guy. Maybe the fame got to his head. “Uhm. I want to stick around for at least a year. What do you mean the way he talks to me?”

“He’s rude.” Riley runs his hand through his hair. “Don’t you find him rude? You’re surprisingly…graceful, but he’s always bossing you around and then ignoring you.”

I feel a pit in my stomach. So I wasn’t imagining it. “I thought that’s just the way he is.”

“No, you should have met him a couple years ago. A really cool guy. He taught me a lot.” Riley suddenly sobers as he looks off into the distance. “I grew a lot with him. I’m thankful for that y’know?”

“Right,” I nod. “Yeah. I dunno. I’m hoping to learn a lot here.”

“Well if you want to stay connected, keep my number. When you wanna jump ship just let me know.”

I’m surprised Riley is talking so openly about helping me leave. I would have thought he was a Harry die-hard.

“Yeah. Hey are you the one that’s created all those notes on the phone? They’ve been a life saver.”

“Notes? Oh the lists. I made them when I was his PA. I don’t know if the last girl updated any…”

I think of the snarky additions. She definitely did.

“Well I owe you my first-born because without them I’m pretty sure I would have been fired.”

“No you wouldn’t have,” he smirks.

“Uh yeah, I forgot to bring his bloody tablet to the studio the first day. He was so mad.”

“He wouldn’t fire you y/n,” he cocks his head to the side. “Not with the way I see it.”

“Huh?” I ask but Riley’s turned to the bar to ask for another drink.

I excuse myself and freshen up, checking my phone for messages. Gray’s sent me a picture of his hotel view and I send him a quick text back. I wish he was here. Maybe it was time I got home, I was starting to feel tired.

“I’m thinking of heading home,” I tell Riley when I get back.

“Now?” He looks at his watch. “Night’s still young y/l/n.”

“I’ve been up since 6 I’m dead.”

“Fine, I’ll walk you outside.” Riley knocks back half his drink and stands, swaying slightly. I put my hand out to steady him and he smiles down at me.

The pub is crowded as we walk past people, shoulders brushing against strangers. It takes me a second to feel the hand on my back sliding down to my ass.

I whip around to chew out whichever stranger thought he could get a grope but the only person behind me is Riley with a cocky smile.

“You alright? Let’s keep going.”

I can hear the blood pumping in my ears and I stumble back, Harry’s words echoing in my ear.

“I’m alright.” I try to put distance between us. “I’ll walk myself out you should look after your drink.”

“Nah c’mon,” he reaches for me again and I inch back.

“I said I’m okay,” I know my voice comes out harsh due to the fear coursing through my body. But I don’t care.

“Bloody hell alright then,” Riley shrugs. “Night y/n.”

I wait for him to turn and leave before I get out of there. The night air cools down the flush in my cheeks but I can’t get my heart to stop racing. Harry was right and for some reason it makes me angry at him. I’m furious.

All these men just made me feel small and confused all the time. Is that what I had to accept working in this industry? Was I just naïve for thinking things could be decent? That people could be decent?

I wish more than ever that Grayson was here. I imagine him on his own in another city. Then I imagine him alone, at home, while I’m working all the time. It felt like we were on a piece of ice drifting through the ocean and the middle was cracking leaving us to drift alone. My heart feels like it’s cracking with it.

I call Gray on the ride home just to see his face. I listen to him talk about his day and slowly my grip on the anger loosens. Slowly with his voice in my ear, I come back down to earth.

***

It’s a couple weeks after the Riley incident. I’d come into work the next day and managed to ignore Harry for most of it just like he did me.

Today I’m back at the dining table waiting for Harry’s publicist to call me to take me through what was left for this upcoming weekend for a small awards show Harry had been nominated in that was happening Sunday. Riley would be on the call too, the first time I’d seen him since that night. I just hoped my pokerface was good enough to move on past any awkwardness.

“Let me get your thoughts on this,” Harry sits down across from me with a yoghurt. He’d just come from the gym and seeing him shirtless now was just another Thursday afternoon.

He’d taken to using me as a soundboard lately which started out interesting and got old quickly. He loved to hear himself talk, I’ve concluded. And I was forced to listen. And he always lied. He never wanted my thoughts on anything, just an ego stroke.

And just like usual he launches into a song he’s working on and something about string progression and inversion. I nod along until my phone rings and I pick it up instantly.

Graham and I speak about the details of event and I reassure him everything would run smoothly. When I’m done Harry’s nearly done the smoothie he grabbed while I was on the phone.

“Austria tomorrow, everything’s prepped?”

“Yep, for you.”

“Not for you?”

“I have the rest of the week off?” I remind him just like I’d been doing for the last two weeks. So this wouldn’t happen.

“You do? I thought that was next week. What am I gonna do without you there it’s 4 days.”

“I reckon you’ll survive,” I say with a light tone but I’ve learned the art of backhanded jokes. It felt like the only way to get some of my aggression out. “Plus Riley’s joining you Saturday afternoon.”

“So I’ll be alone on Friday?”

I look up from my laptop, “Are you ever really alone?”

“I guess I’ll just have to invite one of my girls to keep me company,” he continues watching me. “Keep my bed warm.”

“If you’d like,” I hated when he tried to make me uncomfortable. “Let me know which one and I can cut her a ticket.”

He clenches his jaw and levels me with an irritated look. “I’m sure Vienna has many beautiful people to choose from.”

Ignore ignore ignore. I go back to my screen and leave him on heard.

***

“It’s been too long,” Gray clinks his glass with mine. It’s Friday night and we’re having an early anniversary celebration.

This whole weekend I promised Gray I would be his from Friday though Sunday even though our actual anniversary was on Monday.

Our relationship that was once so strong, supportive, and loving had started treading rocky grounds. I felt jostled and very close to being kicked right off the ride altogether.

I look at my fiancé’s face, his dark features and serious looks made him look intimidating but a flicker of his smile and you felt like you were on the ins with him about something. I had missed him.

The last time we did anything together was at the beginning of summer. I had a long weekend off and he’d driven us to lake district, soaking in the sun and hiking along the peaks. We’d had a serious conversation about our relationship but a lot of it had felt like me apologizing and him accusing.

“You look radiant,” Gray reaches for my hand. “How are you?”

I didn’t think he wanted the real answer. I hold back a sigh and replace it with a smile, “Alright. Better now to be with you.”

He kisses the back of my hand and my stomach flutters. “Me too. I’m excited for this weekend.”

“Let’s see we’re seeing friends tomorrow for brunch, then doing old school movies and dinner in the evening.”

“That was one of our first dates don’t make fun.”

“I’m not! It’s a classic I’m excited. It’s been so long since I saw a movie with you.”

With Harry, I’d seen a few. I was always told to tag along on premieres Riley passed on.

“And Sunday we’re just being lazy bed bugs.”

“Mmm that sounds amazing.” I could use a day in bed. A week in bed would be even better.

The night is perfect and romantic and it soothes the heartache I’d been carrying, the guilt that I was killing my relationship. Gray is attentive and we laugh like we always did.

I don’t mention work. It makes me anxious knowing I had to put the biggest part of my life on mute in order to keep the good vibes going with Gray.

Saturday brunch brings me back to life. I’d missed our friends and catching up on their lives, all the chatter and the laughter. Gray keeps reaching for me at the table and I feel like I belong.

“So how’s the tyrant?” My friends had started calling Harry that since he always kept me from most of our social outings.

“The usual,” I try to keep it short for Gray’s sake.

“Grayson was complaining that you spend more time with him than your actual fiancé!”

“Is that so?” I turn to Gray with a teasing expression but he’s serious.

“I wouldn’t have helped her with the job if I knew,” Gray jokes when I nudge him. The table laughs but I fake it, knowing the kernel of truth in it.

“He can’t be all that bad?” Another friend asks.

“Nope. Pretty consistently bad,” I tell them. “I’m just telling myself it’s vital experience. It’s the only thing that helps me sleep.”

“When she sleeps at all,” Gray slips in another passive joke and I try to distance myself from it.

“Just wait, in a couple years I’ll be living my best life.” I raise my glass.

“To y/n’s best life,” the table cheers.

On the walk home from brunch Gray and I swing hands in between us. I want to bring up his passive comments but it feels stuck in my throat. His hand feels like lead in mine.

“Gray-“

“I’m sorry. I got a bit salty at brunch,” Gray admits. I nearly deflate completely with the sigh that comes out of me.

“That’s okay,” I kiss his cheek. His hand feels like an extension of mine again. “I know there’s a lot of things we don’t talk about, I know my job doesn’t make you happy. But I appreciate that you still support me and keep the peace even when I can be a bit of a dick sometimes.”

“Hey,” Gray stops and tugs me to him. “I love you. Nothing changes that.”

“I love you too,” he kisses me with the same passion he did last night, our first intimate night after a couple months. With the urgency in his kiss I can tell it wouldn’t be another couple until the next.

***

We get back in around 8 and I happily kick off the dress and boots I wore to dinner to snuggle in my pjs. I watch Gray remove his contacts as I comb through my hair.

“I still can’t believe that ending,” Gray says to me in the mirror.

“Same, I feel like everyone’s kept it so hush I didn’t even know there was going to be a plot twist!”

“I kind of saw it coming-“

“You did not!” I flick Gray. “Why do guys love to brag about seeing a movie ending coming.”

“It’s our roman empire,” he grins.

“You’re using that in the wrong context,” I roll my eyes. “Josie would be so disappointed. Oh I didn’t even turn my phone back on after the movie, Josie had texted me something.”

“Just leave it,” Gray calls out as I go back into the room to get my purse. “Let’s keep our phones off, stay unplugged tonight.”

“Too late,” I grin as my phone powers on already.

I know Gray stayed nervous about any call I got during our down time because he always thought it was Harry. To be honest I was surprised he hadn’t bothered me more than asking for a password yesterday.

As my services connect my phone vibrates with a dozen oncoming messages.

“Y/n,” I hear Grayson say in warning but my eyes stay glued to the screen that flicker with notifications.

I look up once they settle, my eyes are as wide as saucers and Gray’s watch me through the mirror, heavy and resigned.

“Please, ignore it,” Gray pleads just once.

“I just…I need to know what it’s about.” I plead back.

“It’s going to spiral,” he warns. “You can’t just look y/n you’re gonna get involved.”

“What if it’s an emergency? He wouldn’t message like this unless it’s an emergency!”

“Like the documents on Josie’s birthday? Or the hospital appointment that one bank holiday? Or his empty fridge on-“

“I get it. But Gray I have 14 notifications. And it’s from his manager too it’s gotta be an-“

“You have a life y/n!” Gray turns around quick like a pistol whip, I stumble back into the doorframe. “He has other people in his life other than you they can figure it out! Why do you keep putting your job, this man, before me? Before us?!”

“I’m not trying to! I’m not!” I stutter.

“What’s the worst case scenario huh? He tries you, and you don’t answer because you’re off. And he’ll find someone else to help—those type always have someone else.”

“You don’t get it-“

“I get it.” Gray lowers his volume. He looks around for his glasses and slides them on. “I get it clearly. You’re just scared you’re replaceable to Harry Styles.”

His words stun me a little. All I can do is watch as he puts on jeans and grabs his phone.

“Do you ever wonder who else in your life’s replaceable?” Gray says before he slams our door shut.

I sink back and my mind races with everything Grayson just said. I was awful, he must feel even more awful and I-

My phone vibrates. Jeff.

“H-hi?” I answer.

“What the fuck y/n! I’ve been trying to reach you for the last 2 hours-“

“My phone was off-“

“Have you even gotten any of the messages we’ve left you-“

“I’m not working today-“

“Obviously,” He cuts me off for the hundredth time. “Harry’s in Vienna alone with god knows who!”

I don’t point out the contradiction in his sentence.

“Isn’t Riley supposed to be with him?”

“Riley quit.”

“What?! When?”

“Today. Apparently the sneak’s been cozying up with one of Harry’s supposed friends. He’s left us high and dry!”

“Is that why you’re calling me?” My confusion grows.

“Jesus no. Just look at your bloody messages.”

I put him on speaker and check the link to the photos he sent me. I gasp.

Harry looks a mess, one in a bar and another right outside it. With a questionable choice of friends.

“He’s not answering his phone,” Jeff continues. “Nobody can reach him and Riley decided to courier the stupid phone back to the penthouse so we don’t have access to his gps. But you do. That’s why I’m trying to reach you y/n. You’ve gotta go there and get him home.”

“Get him home? He’s in another country!”

“Yes, for that niche fucking awards show. You gotta get him back to his hotel and sober him up. We paid some fucker way too much money not to leak these photos and I don’t want to find out some other fucker took more.”

“Isn’t this something his publicist should be doing? Or you?” I’m starting to get angry. Why was Harry like a big fucking toddler that I had to go get when he was misbehaving. “I took the weekend off-“

“Listen. Y/n. We will pay you 5 times your rate if you just get on a plane and sort him out. I’m in Iceland right now. On holiday! Nobody is paying me 5 times the amount to deal with this and I don’t get back to the UK until tomorrow.”

“His publicis-“

“And Graham is the one that caught all this but he doesn’t fly out until tomorrow. So that leaves you. Mr. Styles’ personal assistant.”

I think about Gray, should I call him? Let him know? Fuck. Fuck Harry and his ability to ruin my whole life.

“I don’t have a choice here do I?” I ask wearily.

“Sure you do, one gets you a nice pay check. The other doesn’t.”

“Fuck,” I swear just loud enough for him to hear. “Do you know when the next flight is.”

“There’s a private jet that can leave within the hour I’ll text you the address can you make it?”

I map it. 30 or so minutes away. I look around my room—I had my emergency duffle with my passport the Harry Survival Guide told me to keep so I didn’t need to pack much.

“Yeah. I’ll be there.”

***

“Out of all the fucking nights,” I swear as I take the elevator down. The flight had been under 2 hours and I’d kept my eyes glued to Harry’s phone locator. He’d moved one location so far. The hotel wasn’t too far from this location so I drop my bags off on the en-suite and head out into the beautiful city.

It’s buzzing despite the hour and I wish it was a calmer trip so I could take pictures and soak in the beauty of Vienna.

Instead I trudge on to the little dot on my phone and avoid thinking about Gray and how much he would love this city. And how badly I betrayed him tonight.

What to do when he won’t answer the phone: track his gps, get good at lock-picking and don’t be shy to call whoever he’s out with to get ahold of him. Harry not answering his phone unexpectedly usually means bad decisions.

I find Harry in a kitschy club but it’s not easy. In the flashes of blue and purple lights I sort through all the men about the same height as him. None of them are him.

I knew he was here. I scan the room a second time, he had to be in one of the private sections.

I walk the perimeter until I see a flash of a familiar laugh.

“Harry!” I shout but a man in a suit steps in front of me.

“Private area,” he says in a rough accent.

“I’m his assistant I need to see him!” I point to Harry but he just steps in my way again. I shout Harry’s name and on the second try he looks up.

“Heyy!” He lights up and picks his way over the people sitting around him. He loops his arm around the brick wall in front of me. “That’s y/n! Y/n you came let her in!”

“Thank you,” I shoot the man a dirty look even though I knew he was just doing his job. He was the difference between a PR disaster and no disaster. “Harry we-“

“Have a drink!” He slurs. My heart quickens when I get a glimpse of the table with an assortment of drugs all over it. “Relax. C’mon c’mon!”

Harry pours me champagne and leads me by the hand to where he was just sitting. A couple shift away to make room for me but I stay standing as Harry sinks into the cushion.

“Mr. Styles we-“

“Ms. Y/L/N,” Harry says seriously before bursting into laughter. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this uninhibited before. One part of me is nervous and another part finds it intriguing.

He tugs me down and I tip into the couch, the champagne sloshing over the rim. What the-

“Relax,” he whispers into my ear. It goes straight to my stomach. “Have some champagne and enjoy the night!”

“I want to-“

“Your fiancé won’t let you drink with me? Is that the issue here?”

“No,” I bite. “I am taking you back-“

“I,” Harry sits up and hovers over me. “I am not speaking to you until you drink! Good god woman, lean back! Relax! What do Americans say take a chill pill?”

“I don’t need a chill pill.”

Harry mimes zipping his lips closed.

I roll my eyes and bring the champagne to my lips to take a mock sip but he must anticipate this. Using his finger he tips the glass even further. Half of it drips down my chin.

“Agh!” I jerk the glass away but Harry just laughs. “This is so not funny.”

He leans in smiling. I expect him to stop but he continues moving into me until his lips are on my jaw. His mouth coasts over my skin before he buries his head in my neck where the champagne had dripped down leaving a pool of heat-

“Harry!” I jerk away and push my hands into his chest to prop him up. His eyes are half-closed but as intense as ever as he looks into mine.

What the fuck. What the fuck just happened.

My hands are shaking, steady only because of the force of Harry pressing into them. I feel the tears springing to my eyes, why the fuck did he just…

“Sorry,” he smiles, his finger brushing my cheek. “Y’had some champagne there.”

It was nothing, I tell myself. He’s drunk and taken god knows what. He’s out of his mind. And he was going for the champagne, not me.

I loosen my arms but he comes back towards me again.

“Fuck this,” I mutter. I push him back into the sofa and get up. “We are going back to the hotel. Now.”

“Just stay a little longer here. It’s life. I’m bloody famous!” His hands come around my waist to pull me towards him but I dig my heel in.

I grab him by the shirt and haul his lanky body up, it’s like lifting a slab of marble. We nearly fall into the table but I catch us on my back leg in time.

I get us outside and call a taxi. Harry sways into me and I help keep him up.

“S’cold,” he complains.

“It’s really not.” I look back to him but he doesn’t look good. I lean him against the wall gently. “Harry look at me.”

He eyes stay closed but his head bobbles and he starts to tip forward again.

“Harry!” I nearly slap him. Instead I push him against the wall and use my body to keep him propped upright. I grab his face in my hands. “Harry look at me you’re scaring me.”

“You’re scaring me,” he slurs.

I shake his face a bit and try to pry open an eye which makes him laugh.

“I was alone,” he mumbles.

“I am not carrying you into or out of that car so you better stay conscious.” I tap his cheek.

“You’re no fun.” He says and I ignore him. “I was alone but you came.”

“Not out of any choice,” I mumble.

Our taxi arrives and I’m shaking him every few minutes to keep him conscious. At the hotel I get some help to his room when they recognize his face.

I drop him in bed with a sigh of relief. He looked pathetic like that. And I wanted to cry out of frustration.

I take his shoes off and then his shirt, deciding to keep his trousers on. I leave a bottle of water on his bedside with painkillers and head to the bathroom. For the second time tonight I get ready for bed.

I scrub the sticky champagne out of my neck and block out the feeling of his lips on me. Block out the confusing feelings that arose.

I grab my phone and pray for a text from Gray but there’s nothing. I update Jeff and he sends me a thumbs up. All that and just a fucking thumbs up.

***

Still no text from Gray the next morning.

Harry’s still in bed when I get up. I crack on and order both of us breakfast, ordering the most expensive things just to get something out of being here.

Harry wakes to the smell of coffee, groaning as soon as he sits up. I don’t know what he took last night but it serves him right.

“Y/n?” He sounds just as confused as last night.

“In the flesh,” I nearly growl.

“I thought Riley’s s’pose to be here?”

“So you do remember I’m supposed to be off all weekend.” I can’t hold back on the sass. I’m too mad at everyone.

“Yeah…what?”

“Riley quit.”

“Riley…quit? That’s why you’re here?”

“No.” I want to throw my cup of coffee in his face. “I’m here because you weren’t answering your phone last night and the only updates we were getting were compromising pictures of you absolutely pissed.”

“You sound like my publicist.”

“Your publicist had to pay the photographer off.”

“It couldn’t be that bad,” Harry swings his legs over the side of the bed and winces. He notices the painkillers and pops them. “Did you undress me?”

I pull the photos up on my phone and show them to him. He throws the phone down on the bed after a glance.

“Okay so he sent you to get me back to the hotel?”

“Jeff called me.”

“Jeff’s on holiday.”

“So was I.” My anger brews over. “I had 2 fucking days off Harry and I couldn’t even get that! You had to go to Vienna and get pappd doing the stupidest shit and of course I have to come in and save your ass because I can’t get any time these days to just be!”

He groans as he gets up and shuffles towards me. My heart picks up speed but he simply reaches for the coffee and takes a big gulp. The silence stretches out after my outburst and I wait with an anxious anger for what comes out of his mouth.

“You didn’t have to come. I could have lived with the consequences of being an idiot last night-“

“Jeff didn’t give me a choic-“

“There’s always a choice,” he holds up his finger to my face, hovering an inch from my lips. “Jeff can’t do shite. If he fired you he needs my final say. So again, I didn’t ask you to come here.”

Fuck him, I think. Does he really think I could have said no and gone on with my night? Since it didn’t come out of his mouth, he vanishes any accountability? He’d totally at fault here.

“Secondly,” he wasn’t finished I guess and his eyes are like laser beams into my soul. “It’s Mr. Styles.”

Anything I was about to mouth off on disappears. Like a sinkhole it all collapses below the surface and I’m left feeling as I always did—humiliated.

“Now,” Harry puts his cup down. “That’s not to say thank you for coming to my rescue yesterday. I don’t remember a lot of it so I’m not sure what happened but I’m sure it wasn’t pretty.”

I don’t answer. I bite my tongue until it falls right off and I can swallow it. I wish I could also swallow the memory of his lips that spring to mind.

“It is a Sunday, if you’d like to take it off feel free. The stylist team is coming around 4 to get me ready for tonight.”

“Well, you’ll need me to coordinate this evening since that was the point of Riley being here,” my voice comes out smoother than I felt.

“Ok,” he dismisses me. “I need a shower.”

He leaves and I clench my fists to keep from throwing everything within range at him. How could he flip the script like this? Turn my life upside down and then act like he did nothing wrong?

I go to my phone and hover over Grayson to call him but i have a notification from him. He’s sent me a message, it’s a link.

I click it. It’s a small article in a tabloid about Harry Styles and his mystery woman. You can’t tell it’s me but our pose looks intimate from last night—him leaning against the wall with my knee in between his legs and my body propping him up while my hands hold his face.

But Grayson knows its me.

I get my other phone and message it in the group with Harry’s publicist.

He responds casually: It’ll blow over don’t worry. Can’t see your face plus romantic is better than looking fucked up like the other pics.

It would blow over for Harry but not for me.

I try to call Grayson but he doesn’t pick up.

I close the room door and bury myself in bed, aching so hard it was hard to believe I was still breathing. It felt like an end, I know I could talk it through with Grayson and explain once he saw the other photos. But something feels like it died tonight.

***

“Y/n?” A voice sings outside my door. “Helloo?”

I feel hungover as I open my crusty eyes. I’m in an unfamiliar room and-

“Hello hello?”

I sit up. I was in a hotel suite and I had to help get Harry to his show. Shit.

I look at the time, it’s nearly 5.

“Sorry!” I shout at whoever was behind the door. “Sorry one sec!”

One look in the mirror and I know I had to throw my hair up. I swish some mouthwash around and exit to the lounge.

“Hi,” a woman I’ve never met smiles kindly at me.

“Sorry. Did you need something from me?”

“Yes,” she takes my arm and leads me towards where Harry was getting his hair done. He looks amused as he watches me. “I need you here. We need to get you ready.”

“Oh no,” I say but sit where I’m told by this commanding woman. “Oh I’m just helping coordinate so you just focus on Mr.-“

“Y/n,” Harry’s deep voice cuts me off. “Riley comes with me to these things when Jeff isn’t around. Since neither are here you’re joining me and Graham.”

I look for his publicist but I’m told he was running late. Great.

“I didn’t sign up for this,” I say as the woman takes a wet wipe to my face. “I thought I had Sunday off.”

“You reminded me you’re replacing Riley,” Harry says. “And I got the team to get you a few things but I don’t know your size. I’m sure one of them will fit. Kit can tailor it if you need.”

“Wha…” my face is positioned to the side and cream is dotted all over. I shut my mouth and glance at Harry which becomes a glare when I realize he’s enjoying this.

“Lighten up Y/N, it’s not the end of the world.”

He didn’t know. It was the end of my world.

***

The red carpet or whatever this imitation of it was is a sensory nightmare. Graham had explained on the car over I was to stick to the shadows with him and his security detail. I don’t know why they stuck me in this beautifully tailored pantsuit just to be in the shadows. But apparently I could keep it so I was happy about that.

While Harry gets his name shouted and photos taken I watch from the side, hiding behind Graham’s shoulder so I don’t get caught in any pictures. The flashes still make my head hurt.

Again, we stand off to the side as Harry gets interviewed by labels I recognized and others that must be local. One woman has the nerve to ask,

“So Harry the whole internet is dying to know who your mystery woman is. Would you like to give our viewers a hint?”

I stiffen and Graham glances my way with a warning look. He’d already prepped Harry in the car but I couldn’t believe someone would be so bold as to ask. But that was show business.

“Ah you know what the media’s like, all out of context. I love the theories especially the one about this being my secret fiancé but I would like the viewers to know I’m not engaged, very much single, and not to believe everything you see online.”

I hold my breath as Harry answers but he’s a natural, I had to admit. He went off script a little—he wasn’t supposed to acknowledge the content of the photo, but he did so with grace and humour. Wow. I could learn a few things.

Graham relaxes beside me once the reporter laughs and asks if he sees himself not being single any time soon. When we finally move on Graham wraps his arm around Harry’s shoulder and gives it a shake.

“You did good kid,” he kisses his cheek with all the leftover adrenaline from the carpet. “I’ll see you in there. I see some friends I want to catch up with first.”

Then it’s just Harry and I, and his shadow of a security detail who Harry dismisses while he’s inside the room.

“So I guess now’s the part you go to your seat?” I ask. There was no What to do at an Awards Show so I was clueless and I decided I would create one myself to keep the legacy of all these dos and don’ts.

“It is,” Harry looks…nervous? His eyes flicker around the room and his jaw twitches. I do a sweep of my own, there’s a lot of people I don’t recognize and those I do I’m just about dying trying to stay casual.

“I thought that reporter was going to propose after you cleared up how single you were.”

“Hm?” Harry looks at me—in heels I was finally near eye-level to him. His gaze clears as he takes in what I said and I consider it a win getting him back down to earth. “Oh. Her, yeah she was cheeky with those questions wasn’t she?”

His smile makes me stomach dip. “Yeah she slipped them in so expertly. I thought ‘I have to take some tips from her’. And you, you were good dodging the question.”

“I didn’t lie,” Harry’s now fully engaged in our conversation. I give myself a pat on the back. “It was just you and I am still single.”

Just you. I fake a laugh, “Yeah. That photo is proof that I’m stronger than I look because you were deadweight and I managed to get you to bed y’know that.”

His green eyes flicker up and down my face for a beat. “I know that. I…hope that picture didn’t get you into any trouble.”

I look away, unsure how to answer. He brings a hand to my arm. “I can talk to someone if it helps?”

“Oh no,” my cheeks flush. “No I don’t think that would make anything better but thank you. I…appreciate the-“

“Harry? Oh my god it’s you!”

I retreat in a quarter of a second, invisible once again for Harry to shine with his colleagues. It’s a singer I recognize but I only remember her stage name, Dragon something. I watch them embrace and I try to wind up the spool of thread I’d released when Harry showed some kindness.

I think I had some issues, I became unrecognizable every time Harry was nice for a moment. I had to remember that it was temporary and there were boundaries I couldn’t cross.

Yesterday flashes into my mind. God, was it just yesterday?

Harry starts walking with the other musician arm in arm. It comes to me as I follow why I knew her. There were rumours shortly before I interviewed with Harry about seeing him on the town with this woman. So they had history. Of course.

By the time Graham joins me in our seats I’ve become part of the wallpaper and I feel like I’m being torn away when he acknowledges me to ask if everything had gone ok. I stay invisible for the rest of the evening and I try to remember that’s how it would be.

***

We’re sat on the tarmac for the ride home and I try to refresh my messages over and over but Gray hasn’t responded after I’d told him we had to talk. He was stupidly good at the cold shoulder and I felt like a needy bitch whenever he got like this.

“Could I get a water y/n?” Harry asks from across the aisle. He has his head tipped back and he looks awful—consequences of an after party where he drank himself silly again and relied on me to get him home. I did make friends with some other PAs who were roped to the party so that was the only highlight.

“Sure.” I go to the front of the jet where Graham is typing away on his laptop, oblivious to the rest of us. I grab Harry a coffee too. “It’ll help with the hangover.”

Harry accepts it graciously and I go back to refreshing my phone.

I thought he’d fallen asleep an hour into the flight until he unbuckles his seat and slips in beside me.

“Can I get your phone?” He holds his hand out.

“Why?” I ask suspiciously.

“You’re driving me crazy refreshing that thing it’s like you’re getting paid per refresh.”

I was lost in a trance doing it. I put the phone facedown on my lap but he takes it from me.

“Hey-“

“I’m keeping this until we land. I promise you if you haven’t gotten any messages by now you won’t get any at all.”

His patronizing tone wriggles something loose and I have to look away, out the window, so he doesn’t see the tears.

“My offer still stands,” he says quietly after my silence. I shake my head.

“Thanks,” my voice wavers. “It won’t help. He just gets…quiet. Any time there’s an issue he just goes quiet and it drives me f…crazy. I feel crazy.”

“You kind of look it.” I’m ready to throw him a dirty look but Harry’s smiling when I look at him. I was rarely on the receiving end of such a handsome look that I forget I was going to be mad. “What? You do, hunched over your phone pressing down over and over. My neck hurts just looking at you.”

I sigh and leans back into the seat, trying to straighten myself out.

“Sorry,” I sniffle. “I just need some sort of proof of life from him. He knows it drives me crazy when he ignores me but he does it anyway. He could be dead for all I know. Anyway, I’ll stop now you can give me my phone back.”

“Mmm no,” Harry pats the pocket he put it in. “You listen to me. It stays here.”

I don’t fight him. It was for my own good.

He sits with me for the rest of the flight. It should be uncomfortable but having another person’s presence beside me—knowing there was a shoulder pressing against mine, makes me feel a little less lonely today.

He probably didn’t intend that, I rethink the thought. Harry wasn’t thoughtful like that, he was probably just too lazy to move back.

We take the car home when we land but Harry tells me to take the rest of the Monday off even though it was already 2.

“And y/n,” Harry stops me before I exit the car where it stalls outside my complex.

“Yes?” I wait for the other shoe to drop—I had the day off but…

“If he knows it drives you crazy, and he truly loves you, he should respect you and give you a chance to talk. You deserve that.”

My breath catches at the unexpected words. I feel my defences go up.

“You’ll work it out,” he rushes on when I don’t respond.

I’m left feeling slightly reassured and mostly confused.

“Thank you,” I look at him a beat too long and it feels awkward so I scramble out and head up. To someone I hope was willing to listen like Harry said.

***

Like a baby calf out of the womb, my relationship stays on shaky grounds. It feels like building a foundation all over again after thinking that was already done with, but Hurricane Harry had caused a lot of damage.

Now 9 months into my new job I wasn’t always so on edge. But I was busy.

With no Riley, the team had decided to hold off on hiring anyone new and my work load had tripled. I’d brought it up casually and just as casually Harry had let me know I would be compensated.

I thought about Vienna a lot. Things were done and said there that should change our dynamic but didn’t. Not much. Harry was still an ass, he still demanded most of my time, and I still suffered from major anxiety about my life falling apart.

So maybe I was still on edge, just about different things.

“G’morning,” Gray whispers to me. I wanted to sleep in and cuddle with my fiancé but I’d already snoozed my alarm and I knew I had to get to work. I had errands to run all over town.

“Morning,” I burrow my head into his warm body. “I don’t wanna work.”

He kisses the top of my head. “How about I join you on some of those errands you mentioned? We can get coffee?”

I’m suddenly excited about going to work.

Gray laughs when I climb over him and kiss him like a lunatic, and we’ve been together too long to be embarrassed about morning breath or pillow face. I can’t believe I almost lost him.

The day is perfect as Gray and I move around town doing odd bits. We get to grab lunch together and I’m so glad what a good sport Gray had been about it all since I’d forced him to carry any heavy items.

“I’ll see you for dinner,” Gray drops me off at Harry’s. We linger in the lobby for a few minutes. “I’m cooking.”

“Mmm can’t wait,” I kiss him before taking the load from him. “Thank you for coming with me today.”

“I had fun, I hate to admit it.” He grins as I walk backwards to the elevator. He takes my breath away.

Grayson’s eyes widen and he opens his mouth to say something but I collide into a body behind me before he can warn me.

“Oh shit sorry I-“ I turn and Harry stands behind me with Jeff walking off the elevator. He was probably headed to the studio and I was late. Dammnit!

“Y/N,” Harry says.

“I’m so. Sorry,” I look between Gray, Jeff, and Harry. Do I introduce everyone? Do I apologize and rush to drop these things off so I could join them like I’m supposed to?

Jeff makes it easy, walking away on his phone. Then it’s Harry and Gray.

“I’m sorry I meant to be upstairs five minutes ago.” I tell Harry who’s expression is hard to read. “Uhm…this is Grayson my fiance I don’t think y’all have met he was just dropping me off since I had my hands full. Um. Gray this is…well you know who this is I-“

My blabbering is cut short as Harry steps forward to shake hands and I nearly die at the steely look Gray gives him. Also, why the fuck did I say y’all?! I wasn’t even southern.

“Grayson Duran yeah? Nice to meet you,” Harry says. I’m surprised he knows his full name. He must have asked his friends.

“Yeah,” Gray drops his hand. “The infamous Harry Styles—I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Likewise,” Harry says, glancing at me. Why would he say that. “As much as I’d love to chat, y/n you’re late and we’re heading to the studio. Can you give all that to the concierge?”

“Yes,” I nod. “Have you got-“

“I grabbed my things yes. I’ll see you in the car.”

Harry nods to Gray and leaves an air of cologne and annoyance behind. Gray and I lock eyes and I burn with embarrassment.

“What a dick,” Gray mumbles.

I’m offended, wait, why am I offended? It’s not like Harry wasn’t a dick.

“Yeah, I gotta go sorry babe.” I rush to the concierge and explain the delivery.

“Y’all?” Gray asks when I rush back to him.

“I know I know,” I cringe. “It just came out. I gotta go but thank you so much for today. Loveyoubye!”

I give him a quick peck and rush out, nearly collapsing into Harry’s car.

“Sorry about that, being late. That won’t happen again I meant to be there before you left-“

“As long as it doesn’t happen again,” Harry says stiffly, staring out the window. He was a dick, Gray was right. But why was I so offended at him saying that right after meeting him?

Things felt so confusing these days and I just wanted time to catch my breath and figure things out. A few more weeks and I’d get some time off for the holidays at least, I was looking forward to that.

***

Even though I planned the intimate holiday party and spent countless hours on the phone making sure every detail would be perfect I can’t help but criticize it as I join.

“Maybe I should have gone with a live band,” I mutter as someone takes mine and Grayson’s coats. Tonight I was supposed to shut my brain off as Harry said, and enjoy the party as a guest. But that part was hard to shut off after nearly 10 months of re-wiring it.

Grayson was tough to convince but finally he’d agreed to come to the party. Things were mostly back to normal with us. I tried to be home by 7 most nights and didn’t talk about work too much.

But sometimes it felt like a volcano lived inside me with how much I had to compartmentalize and keep in and when times got really tough, I wanted to spew everywhere.

“Josie told me your mom’s doing bohemian Christmas?” I ask Gray as we hover by the foyer. I’d just had a catchup with her yesterday now that she was finished exams. “Do you know what that means.”

“Mum’s crazy,” Gray sighs. His relationship with her was always followed by a sigh, an eye roll, a heavy resignation for who she was. I never quite understood it.

Josie, on the other hand, loved their loud and free-spirited mother. As for me, I thought she was the most interesting woman I ever met and we’d gotten along instantly.

“She’s always got some new idea up her sleeve,” I try to make things more positive. “What do you want a bet it’s going to be vegan?”

“I don’t bet when I know that’s what she’s serving. That’s why we do dad’s for lunch and hers for dinner. We’re too stuffed once we get there to care what she’s serving.”

“Remember when I tried to get you to go vegan and-“

“Y/N! Hi,” I’m interrupted by a friendly face in the crowd and end up chatting with people I’d worked with the last few months. We introduce our partners and they chat but I keep an eye on Grayson, in case anything changes.

I watch Harry’s friends trickle in and Gray lights up when he sees Liam and a few other people he trained.

I flit around the room with ease after that, knowing Gray had friends to keep him company. I make sure drinks are filled and catering is setting up. Until a hand stops me.

“You’re not supposed to be working tonight,” Harry reminds me.

“Yes. Right. Well…”

“Y/N,” he warns.

“Okay!” I throw my hands up. “Not working, here look I’m enjoying myself!”

I pick up a random drink and take a big sip. Champagne. Suddenly I remember the last time I drank champagne in front of Harry and I nearly cough it back up.

“Ugh,” Harry hands me a napkin and I try not to bristle. “What happened? Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” I clear my throat. “Yeah sorry just…just not a fan of champagne.”

We lock eyes and I’m gripped with the sudden and very real possibility that Harry may actually remember parts of that night.

When his eyes flicker down to my neck, it’s confirmed. Oh god.

“Well! I’m off to find a better drink!” I turn too quickly, nearly taking out the caterer who was setting up hors d’œuvres on the table. “Sorry!”

Oh my god. Harry remembered.

Did he remember this whole time? Was he pretending to forget that night? Did he ever remember the moment randomly in my presence like I did?

I had to stop freaking out. It had been months!

Where was Grayson.

I locate my fiancé in a random group but his eyes are already on me. I raise a hand and he smiles, raising a finger to tell me he’d be there in a moment.

My mind races in the meantime, wondering if I should mention the incident to Harry and tell him I was fine. Or maybe that proved the opposite. No. I should just keep it unspoken like we had this whole time. Oh my god!

“Quite a turnout,” Grayson comes back to me. Two drinks in his hand. “I saw you talking to Harry why did you look so scared? Did he say something?”

“Oh!” Of course Gray saw. “No. I just…almost choked on my champagne the fizz y’know? And then I didn’t want to make a scene so I left.”

“Hm,” Gray wraps his hand around my waist. “Hey I see a mistletoe I’m going to nudge you in that direction.”

“You don’t need a mistletoe to kiss me babe.”

“It’s supposed to be romantic.”

I let him lead me to it and he kisses me with a knee-bending passion.

“Woah,” I feel dazed when we finally part. “That was fucking romantic.”

“Yeah?” He grins.

“Excuse me!” Harry’s voice rings over the crowd and the room hushes slowly. “Uh hiya! Thank you all for coming tonight and making me feel like I have friends during the holidays.”

A quiet laugh rumbles over the crowd. Harry looks magnetic on his makeshift podium, he’s in a cozy red sweater that I know cost more than my month’s salary and a collar peeks out from under it. He’s got on navy slacks and tinsel thrown over his shoulder. I’d bought that sweater, I remember. But he managed to pull the rest of the outfit together well.

“…a few people.” He continues. I’d zoned out. “My manager Jeff of course—this year has been a roller coaster and you’ve managed it all. Charlie, Claire, Niji, Elin, Sarah, and Mitch. We had a ball playing our hidden shows this fall but we have so much planned for the year ahead. I’m beyond grateful that you all came into my life and we get to make music together!”

A few whoops in the crowd and the people he mention raise their hands and shout out their own praises to Harry.

Harry thanks a few more people and says some more kind words. I don’t expect him to zero in on me.

“Last, but not least folks, I want to thank somebody who joined my team this year. She’s seen a lot—she’s been in the trenches my friends, she has. But she’s stuck with me. She’s planned everything tonight so really you’re all here because of her. Y/N, please make yourself known and everyone should give her a thank you if you talk to her tonight for tonight.”

Oh god. I am as bright as Harry’s sweater and with every single eye turning on me I’m sure I also turn every shade of the rainbow. I paste on a grin that feels like I’m the Joker and hope it looks normal.

I wave awkwardly and make eyes with Harry across the room who looks like he’s having a ball putting me in the centre of everyone’s attention. I was really going to wring his neck but he winks at me and finally turns the attention back to him with a few closing words, then starting the music and food.

“Am I alive?” I ask Gray beside me whose hand had dropped from my waist during the last few minutes. “I think I died of embarrassment and turned into the ghost of Christmas’ present.”

I turn to Gray and he looks around me. “Hello? Is someone talking to me?”

“Gray!” I push his shoulder and he laughs. “I hated every second of that.”

“I know,” Gray laughs again. “You hate attention.”

“I do! I swear Harry was up there gloating didn’t you notice? Ugh I hate him.”

Gray’s expression shutters for a second. “Yeah, he definitely knew what he was doing.”

“Y/N, quite a shoutout.” A voice says from my right. It’s Liam who I hadn’t seen myself in ages. I go in for a hug and hope my embarrassment clears away as we catch up.

As the night goes on I ease up a little, enjoy the mingling and the drinks. Especially the drinks. The evening’s embarrassment and everyone coming up to me knowing my name was hell so I drink to keep up the liquid courage.

Coming out of the toilets for the tenth time that night with all the drinks I was downing, I notice a light on in the room.

I go to it, in case it was a guest in a place they shouldn’t be.

I don’t spot him at first, flicking off the lights only to see a shadow move. Harry.

“Oh! It’s you. Is everything alright?” I lean in the doorway. It’s the first time I’ve seen him in this office actually. He always hovered outside it like I was now.

“Yeah yeah, just came for some air.” He walks up to me and I step out of the way so he can leave. But he stays just inside so I move back to my spot.

“Air? In the smallest room here?”

“Yeah,” he smiles like he’s been caught. “I was looking for you. We ran out of ice I just don’t remember where you stored the rest.”

“Well I’m not working remember? So I don’t know.”

“Touché. I guess the guests will just have a shite time with their lukewarm drinks.”

Ugh. He knew me too well.

“Fine. I’ll get the bag. By the way, that wasn’t funny. What you did earlier.” I put my hands on my hips, ready to give him a piece of my mind for embarrassing me.

“What!? It wasn’t meant to be funny. I’m expressing my gratitude y/n.”

“In front of a whole room of random people who are all looking at me? You know I would have hated it!”

“Let’s just say I’m trying to get you out of your shell,” Harry teases. He smells of his usual cologne, the fresh soap he used, and scotch. I spot the empty glass on my desk.

“I’m plenty out of my shell thank you. You know, you could have just said it to me privately. That would have meant more.”

His mouth opens but nothing comes out. He inhales sharply and turns around.

“What?” I ask his back.

“Nothing.” He turns back around. “You do good work y/n, people should know.”

Now it’s my turn to go quiet. I only seemed to do this when Harry was nice. Because otherwise I knew how mean he could be. Why couldn’t there just be a balance.

“Why are you so randomly nice to me?”

Oops. All those drinks made for some loose lips.

“What?” He’s taken aback.

“Yeah,” I feel fired up now that it’s out. “You ignore me half the time—not that I expect to be bffs but at least a hello now and then would be nice. Then when you do talk it’s grunts and clipped answers. You’re pretty mean to me! And suddenly out of nowhere it’s like-like this 180 and you’re really nice. And praising me in front of a crowd. What’s up with that?”

His expression retreats the more I talk and I know I’ve dug myself into a hole. Forget the whole speech just now I’m pretty sure I’ve just written my own termination notice.

“I have to be,” he says simply after an awkward pause.

“Have to?” I demand. “You have to be mean to me?”

The long deleted Dos and Dont list when I first joined flashes through my mind. Did that have something to do with it?

“Because when I spoke to Riley that one time for drinks, he told me you weren’t always this mean. So is it me? You just said to a whole crowd how helpful I am so I just don’t get why you’re so mean sometimes!”

“What else did Riley say?” Harry hangs on to that.

“I…a lot I dunno! Riley faffs a lot. He’s also a creep but that’s neither here nor there I-“

“What do you mean he’s a creep?” The room feels even smaller as he zeroes in.

“I-“ I try to stutter something to change the subject but he stays on, asking me again. “It’s nothing. He was drunk and he made a pass at me-“

“He did?! Why didn’t you tell me?” There’s zero space between the two of us now.

“Why would I? It was something that happened outside work hours, plus you warned me and I didn’t listen-“

“Y/n you should have told me,” he swears. “I let that little shite get away with way too much.”

“Yeah well he’s not the only person working here who’s made a drunken pass at me so let’s not make it a big deal okay?”

I guess I wasn’t holding back.

Harry closes his eyes and breathes through his nose. One mississippi two mississippi three-

“You’re right.”

My heart pounds in my chest. I want to get out of this room, find Gray, and stay in the light. Because this small, dimly lit space was becoming too intimate. And yet, I can’t seem to will myself to move.

“I am?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry. It doesn’t cut it—what I did was incredibly wrong. Being drunk shouldn’t be an excuse and I promise I don’t go around doing that to everyone-“

“I know,” I say before thinking. It was weird of Harry to do but I never felt unsafe with him. I understood what he was trying to say.

“You can make it a big deal if you want. It shouldn’t have happened. It won’t happen again.”

I feel weird having the roles reversed—Harry apologizing to me. Promising not to do something again. I recognize what he’s doing is right but I don’t know what to do with myself. My breathing’s shallow with Harry so close to me, practically hovering over me. I should’ve worn higher heels to really equal the field.

“Thanks,” I finally manage. It’s low and raspy and I barely get in enough air to speak it. He doesn’t respond.

We stay in the tableau, our breathing irregular, in between a single decision that both of us knew wouldn’t end well. Yet neither of us are strong enough to end the frozen display.

“You clean up nice,” he says, eyes never leaving mine as he compliments my getup. I’d worn a simple cowl-necked slip dress and strappy shoes with my hair in an up-do. I was definitely underdressed after seeing the other guests but I believe Harry means it.

“Don’t look as haggard as I usually do, you mean?” I find my voice again. I barely have to whisper for him to hear.

“You never look haggard,” Harry says as he brings his hand up and traces the curve of my dress strap. My heartbeat was loud and surely showing through my dress.

“You should go,” Harry adds in a whisper.

My head feels like it’s filled with carbonation as I nod in agreement. This was bad. With a capital B. I had to go.

“I…should go.” I repeat. Slowly I inch sideways on the wall and Harry leans away. We stare at each other for another long moment before I scurry away, my heart in my throat and my guilt where my heart should be.

“Don’t forget the ice,” I hear Harry call out from the room. Miraculously this is exactly when Grayson turns the corner.

“Y/n? Where were you?”

“Oh I-“ I imagined I looked fucked up. Because I felt high and out of my mind. The white lie comes out, attached to a thread that unstitches something within. “I drank too much, so I was in the toilet.”

“Oh,” Gray looks relieved and I’m sinking with guilt. Technically I did nothing wrong. I didn’t even have feelings for Harry. But whatever physical magnetism he seemed to have nearly made me do something I’d seriously regret. “Did I hear someone say something about ice?”

“Yeah!” I laugh and it comes out like I had never learned how. “I just bumped into Harry, we ran out of ice. So much for not working huh?”

“At least everyone knows how hard you work,” he jokes.

I stick to Gray’s side for the rest of the night, not touching a single drop of alcohol. I had to forget everything in that room ever happened if I wanted to keep my job and my sanity. I had to be a better person, the devil was handsome and I had to stop playing into his tricks.

I call it quits a few hours later when I notice Gray low on energy.

“I’ll get our coats,” I tell him. The relief on his face is palpable.

I go through where the spare closet was but hear voices in Harry’s darkened room. The door’s open so I go to investigate. I regret it instantly.

Harry’s inside with a woman, I don’t see much of her as she’s on the bed but I know it’s Harry with the tone of his voice as they exchange words.

My stomach drops and it’s like an accident on the side of the road, I’m mortified but I can’t look away.

I watch him kiss her and I feel like I’m sinking through the floorboards.

“Oh!” The woman notices me when she turns her head and pulls the sheet up. She whispers, “you didn’t close the-“

“Oh it’s fine,” Harry laughs. He sits back on his legs and looks at me, his expression void of anything he was tonight. Like the moment in the room didn’t even happen. “It’s just y/n.”

Of course it didn’t matter to him, I scold myself. I was the one with fucked up issues that couldn’t make up my stupid mind about how I wanted to feel about this man who literally paid me to be around. Who treated me like shit most of the time. Who was nice to me sometimes and I misconstrued it to mean a whole lot more.

What was I thinking? Did I think suddenly this man who’s known to be a player had a single one-sided intense moment with me and that would change him?

I was an absolute idiot.

“Could you get the door?” Harry asks so casually, so nonchalantly, that it punches me in the chest. It was closer to some combination of humiliation and self-inflicted hurt but for now it feels like my chest aches.

“O-of course.” I shut the door and stand there, taking in deep breaths as I try not to think about everything that just happened. Tried not to think of all the million ways I was the worst girlfriend in the world. Tried not to think about the fact that I had to quit sooner than later because things were getting tangled up and it was not okay.

xxxxxxxxxx

TAGLIST: @boomitsallie1 @indierockgirrl @ndunad @jerseygirlinca @sunshinemoonsposts @ninasw0rld

I’m trying to make part 3 the last—it includes your final decisions and returning to the present to find out what happens (from the beginning of the story). Thank you, as always, for reading <3 xx

[xoxmatilda]

Matilda | h.s.

Chapter Index

summary eighteen prologue nineteen one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen seventeen

[1982grapejuiceblues]

Stranger Lanes - Masterlist

~series~ - ongoing

Summary: Y/N’s summer starts with a betrayal and a very long car ride. Her boyfriend leaves her for Claire. Claire, who also happened to be dating Harry. Now Claire and Ben are together, and Y/N and Harry? They’re the ones left behind—with a cross-country drive to a friends trip they no longer want to be part of. They don’t know each other. They don’t like each other. And they definitely weren’t supposed to share a car, a cabin, or anything remotely close to trust. But between gas stations, motel nights, terrible playlists, and late-summer silences… something shifts. Because the worst part of the trip isn’t being stuck with Harry. It’s realizing she doesn’t want it to end.

Tropes: Strangers to reluctant allies to lovers | Forced proximity (one car, two exes, zero escape) | One bed (motel edition™) | Road trip romance | Exes of exes |Slow burn with tension so thick it could shatter | Quiet pining & internal monologues of doom™ | “We don’t talk about it” energy | Grumpy x guarded | Emotional repression Olympics | Falling in love in silence first

Warnings: Off-page infidelity / cheating (by secondary characters) | Breakups / heartbreak (past relationships and emotional fallout) | Emotional repression / avoidance | Loneliness and grief surrounding failed relationships | Light alcohol use (coping, social, and isolation contexts) | Mild language and sarcasm-as-defense-mechanism | Complicated friend group dynamics | Moments of emotional vulnerability, crying, and self-doubt | Subtle themes of trust rebuilding, emotional intimacy, and fear of abandonment

Word Count (so far): 1.7K

Change Of Plans

Passenger Seat Purgatory (coming soon)

[harrywavycurly]

Worth the Fight: It’s Just Cake

Masterlist: Here

CW: Language, small-ish argument, pregnancy symptoms, one moment of slight jealousy and one tiny injury that sends Harry spiraling.

A/N: I spent a sold 36 hours debating on the outcome of this update and this just seemed to make the most sense so enjoy and sorry for any tears, hopefully they are happy ones?👀✨

Tag List: @kookjipao @msolbesg @lomlolivia @namoreno @outofthisworl-d @mema10 @watarmelon212 @natykn @sassamanda77 @st-ev-ie @ghayda0 @hannah9921 @indierockgirrl @chaoticthoughts2022 @lizsogolden @gmikaelson @styleswithaseaview @sofaritsalrightt @babegoals @fangirl509east @one-sweet-gubler @stylesftcher @umadirectioner @last-saturday-night @montgomery-929496 @laughterismytherapy @hisparentsgallerryy @jerseygirlinca @behindmygreyeyes @mads3502 @tpwkdpr @unfuckwitablenarry @itscoucouharry @latedirectionerera @ell0ra-br3kk3r @cumuluscranium @donutsandpalmtrees

Summary: You see Harry three days in a row and you get a cake delivered ✨

“This one’s soft.” Harry just nods as he places a hand in on his hip while you give the pillow in front of you a good squeeze. “And very squishy.” You add and Harry doesn’t bother even responding because you’ve said the exact same thing about all the pregnancy pillows you’ve touched during the fifteen minutes the two of you have been in the store. So instead he just leans his back against the shelf and runs his hand through his hair while you move on to the next pillow that he’s sure will also be soft and squishy.

You look at the pillow in front of you and let out a sigh because you don’t really want one and you don’t think you need one right now but Harry swears your lack of support on your back and bump is why you’ve been having issues sleeping. Resulting in the two of you standing on the aisle that has all the pillows that help with sleep and breastfeeding in the boutique down the street from your work on your day off, the same one he saw you and Ethan in a few weeks ago. But instead of offering you his opinion on which pillow to get he’s been oddly quiet, keeping a safe distance from you and you wonder if he’s the one having issues sleeping due to his late nights with the girl Ethan told you he was seen with just last week.

“I read that one’s good.” You turn your head at the sound of his voice, it’s quiet and lower than normal as he points to the pillow currently in your hand. “Gives you back and belly support and it’s not massive like the others are and you already said it’s soft-”

“And squishy.”

“Yeah. So I say give that one a try and see how you like it? And if you hate it we return it and get another one.” He offers before he pulls his phone out of his pocket to check the time.

You just look back at the cream colored pillow in your hand and give it one more squeeze before deciding it’ll do and you’ll give it a try. When go to pull the pillow off the shelf you don’t even give it one tug before Harry’s ring clad hands are grabbing it for you and pulling it off the shelf in one quick movement. You can’t help but notice how effortlessly he tosses it into the cart you have next to you and you have to remind yourself it’s just a pillow not a heavy sack of potatoes when a small blush begins creeping onto your cheeks. You want to smack a hand over your face when you catch yourself staring at his arms that are being shown off by his tank top, something you’re extremely used to seeing him in since he normally stops by your apartment in the mornings after a run of before he’s due at the gym. But for some reason you feel like his black tank top and questionably short maroon running shorts are a bit more distracting today than usual.

“Did you hear me?” You jump slightly as Harry’s voice snaps you out of your daze making your eyes instantly connect with his instead of where they were just fixated on the muscles in his arm flexing as he grips the handle of the cart so he can push it for you.

“Sorry what-what did you say?” Harry looks at you with concern etched on his face as he gives you a quick once over. Your cheeks are red and your eyes have this glazed over appearance to them and you have a hand clutching at the pendant at the end of the chain you wear everyday while the other one is resting on your bump.

“Are you feeling okay?” He questions with a furrow in his brows as he notices the way you swallow thickly while briefly letting your eyes dart to his hand that’s wrapped around the handle of the cart.

“Uhm yes I’m totally fine why do you ask?” You ask as you do your best to appear as normal as possible, running a hand through your hair after you clear your throat and blink a few times before meeting his eyes once more so you can offer him a small smile. Acting as if he didn’t just catch you staring at his hand that has his signature initial rings snuggly tucked up against the knuckles of his pinky and ring finger.

“You just look a bit out of sorts that’s all.” He says making you let out a very forced laugh as you give him a shrug.

“I could say the same thing about you.” Harry raises a brow as you motion to his outfit causing him to look down to check himself out but when he doesn’t see anything out of place he looks back over at you just to find you’ve turned away from him and have begun walking down the aisle a few steps ahead of him.

“You’re sort of worrying-”

“I’m fine Harry really just got a bit of a hot flash that’s all.”

“A hot flash?” He doesn’t remember you telling him about hot flashes before so he feels a little confused as he pushes the cart a safe distance behind you so he doesn’t accidentally hit your ankles when you suddenly stop to look at something.

“Yeah a hot flash. I’ve had a few randomly but-oh look at these.” You try your best to distract him from your flustered state with a pair of tiny newborn sized socks. You grab them off the shelf and hold them in your hand as you turn to face him. “Look how small they are.” You mumble as you look down at them and run your thumb over the soft material.

“Do they need socks right out of the womb?” Harry asks as out of pure curiosity since he’s only seen babies in socks when they out of the house or in posed photos on people’s social media accounts.

“I think so because it’s nice and warm in here.” You tell him as you place a hand on your bump while the other holds the tiny socks out to him so he can get a better look at them. “So you want to try to make them all warm and cozy once they are out.” Harry just nods as he looks at the tiny pair of socks that fit in the palm of his hand and when you take a glance at him you can’t help but smile as he takes a moment to try to imagine one of the twins being big enough to wear the socks while also being tiny enough to fit both their feet in his hand.

“How can something be so small but also big at the same time?” It’s a thought he doesn’t mean to voice out loud but then again he doesn’t mind letting you hear his inner thoughts because you just take a step towards him so you can look at his hand that looks even larger than it normally does as it easily fits both socks in it.

“Considering right now they are only the size of bananas everything kinda seems big.” You begin to explain while Harry just stares at the socks. “But then when they actually get to wear the socks their feet will look so tiny in them.”

“Bananas? So you’re about-”

“Twenty weeks.”

“Which means we can-”

“Yup.” You finish for him since you already know what he’s going to ask. Harry stares at you as your hands fall to your bump while you rub your lips together as the two of you silently take a moment to sit with the knowledge that at your appointment with Dr. Andrews tomorrow you’ll be able to find out the genders of the babies you’re carrying.

“So did you-”

“Are you seeing someone?” Harry feels his body go stiff at your question that you all but shout at him as you begin to rub your bump, something you tend to do when trying to calm yourself down. You watch as the pair of socks fall out of Harry’s hand as he blinks at you a few times while opening and shutting his mouth as if he doesn’t know what to say and his mind and body are at odds with one another making him look like he’s struggling to make sense of what’s happening around him.

“I uhm don’t-what what exactly do you-uh I’m not no-no no I’m uhm not see-seeing anyone.” The way he fumbles through his answer makes you raise an eyebrow at him while he quickly bends down to pick up the dropped pair of socks so he can just toss them into the cart and worry about if you actually wanted to buy them later at the checkout since he’ll already have to argue with you about letting him pay for everything anyway.

“So the girl you were seen with in the green dress isn’t anyone?” You have no clue why you’re asking him these questions in the middle of a baby boutique but you’ve spent the past few nights wondering about it so you figure you might as well get it over with and see what he has to say for himself.

You continue to rub soothing circles over your bump as Harry stands there trying to figure out who exactly you’re referring to because his mind has all of a sudden become void of anyone he’s hung out with recently that wasn’t you or his mother. But when for the life of him he can’t recall anyone wearing a green dress he just lifts a shoulder up in a casual shrug and shakes his head.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about?” You let out a sigh as you roll your eyes, not at all shocked his memory is messing with him because that seems to happen anytime he meets a girl and has a decent time with them on a night out.

“Figures you can’t remember the girl you walked out of a club with the night you told me you had plans with your mom and that’s why you couldn’t come help me hang the curtains in the nursery.” Harry grips the handle of the cart with both hands as if it’s the only thing capable of keeping him steady as he’s hit the with memory of the night you’re referring to. “Must’ve been quite a night then.” It’s the casual tone of your voice that has Harry worried because it doesn’t at all match the look you’re giving him.

You’re eyes are slightly narrowed in a glare but there’s something hidden behind the glare that he can’t quite put a finger on, but he has a feeling it’s something along the lines of hurt or jealousy but he doesn’t see why’d you be jealous so he leans more towards you being hurt over the fact you think he lied to you.

“I did have plans with my mom we had dinner together.” He explains as you look away from him and towards the pregnancy pillow sitting in the cart. “And that girl she’s just a friend who needed a ride home-”

“And she couldn’t call an uber? She had to call you?” You know you sound like an untrusting girlfriend but you just blame your hormones making you feel as if he’s still keeping something from you.

“I was just trying to be a good friend. She doesn’t know a lot of people here she’s from New York and-”

“It honestly doesn’t matter I just don’t like feeling like I’ve been lied to that’s all.” You state deciding you don’t really want to hear anything else about the girl in the green dress. Harry gives you a small nod when you finally look back up at him, he doesn’t know why the idea of you thinking he lied to you makes his heart drop a bit.

“I understand and I’m sorry.” He doesn’t really know what he’s apologizing for but it just seems like something he needs to do in the moment, and honestly it’s something he’s becoming an expert at doing considering how many times he’s said those exact words since meeting you. “I hope you know I’d never lie to you. I may be an asshole but I’m not a liar.” You playfully roll your eyes as you look at him with a quirked brow.

“You don’t lie? Harry you told me I looked good in black and red polka dots last week.”

“And you did? You looked like a lady bug with your black leggings and polka dotted cardigan.”

“I looked like a bug? Bugs aren’t cute.”

“Lady bugs are cute.” You try to ignore the way your heart flutters at his roundabout way of calling you cute so you just let out a chuckle before turning around and heading down the aisle. “Besides there’s a clear difference between lying and just telling you something so you don’t get your feelings hurt.”

“So you’re saying I didn’t look good you just didn’t want to make me upset?” Harry wishes Niall was here to give him a smack upside the head as you pause and look at him over your shoulder. He rushes to shake his head no and push the cart further down the aisle towards where you’re standing near the end of it.

“No of course you looked cute-I mean good you looked good.” You place a hand over your mouth to stop your laugh from being heard throughout the store while Harry just glares at you as he realizes the trap he just walked into. “You’re in a mood today Cranky. Let’s hurry up and get this pillow so you can go take a nap.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t help myself but a nap isn’t going to fix it but you know what might?” Harry doesn’t even have to think before he’s answering your question.

“A green juice with no carrots and extra apples?” The smile you give him makes his insides feel all warm and he has to stop himself from laughing at how you’re already licking your lips at the thought of your current favorite juice recipe.

“Exactly.”

“Can I ask who uh told you about me being out the other night?” He asks as you turn to go down another aisle, he has a strong feeling he knows who gave you the information but he just wants to hear it from your lips.

“Ethan.” Your voice sounds like you’re distracted and when Harry looks up he sees why, you’re standing there wrapped up in a fuzzy robe that’s about two sizes too big for you with a grin on your face as you let out a sigh of content. “I’d be able to snuggle both of them at the same time in this.” Harry watches in amusement as you grab two stuffed animals off the shelf in front of you next to the hanging robes and act out what it would be like holding two babies at the same time cuddled in the robe.

“You look ridiculous.”

“Oh you’re just mad I don’t want to snuggle you in this thing.” You snap making Harry have to look away when your eyes meet his, his cheeks and the back of his neck getting hot as he struggles to keep a stupid smile off his face.

“Didn’t you just have a hot flash? Should you even be wearing that right now?” He asks with a hint of worry in his voice making you roll your eyes as you put the stuffed animals in the cart so you can shrug off the fuzzy robe.

“Next time someone tells me how fun you are I’m going to tell them to have a baby or two with you and they’ll really see just how fun you can be.”

“Forgive me for caring about your wellbeing.”

“I don’t think I can because I really liked that robe.” Your eyes are a little big and your bottom lip is poked out a bit as your head tilts to the side giving the robe one last look as you hang it back up. Harry just lets out an annoyed sigh as you make your way down the aisle, an obvious stomp in your steps making him roll his eyes at your dramatics.

“Yeah you need a nap.” Is all he says as he grabs the hanger with the robe on it and tosses it in the cart on his way down the aisle where you’ve stopped to look at a set of onesies.

You can feel the anticipation building in the room as you and Harry stare at the white envelope sitting on your kitchen table. Having picked you up for your appointment before work he also took it upon himself to walk you back to your apartment where you informed him Dr. Andrews had given you the results of the gender scan you had done during the appointment since at the time neither of you felt ready to know quite yet or more so you just didn’t feel like crying in front of your doctor, again. But suddenly the idea of knowing if you’re carrying two boys or two girls or maybe one of each feels like something you desperately need and want to know so you asked Harry to stay a bit before running off to do whatever it is he does during the day.

“Will you open it?” You ask as you still stare at the envelope with the name Styles written on it while rubbing your hands over the soft material of the t shirt that’s currently covering your bump.

“Me?”

“No Harry the ghost standing behind you.”

“But this is a big deal I’m-I’m not properly dressed for-”

“Properly dressed? Harry you’re not opening the envelope that tells someone they just won a Grammy.”

“Well yeah this is way more important.” He states as he runs a hand through his hair before he turns his attention to you and he almost jumps back a bit when he sees how intensely you’re already staring at him. You don’t give him time to ask if you’re okay before you’re turning and heading into your kitchen for your water bottle you accidentally left on the counter due to rushing down to meet Harry in the parking lot so he wouldn’t be able to tell you that you were going to make the two of you late for your appointment when he helped you get into his passenger seat.

“You’ve done gender reveals before so just act like this is one of the times a fan asked you to read it on stage or something.” Harry rolls his eyes as his hands land on his hips while turning to look at you as you take a sip of water.

“This is different than opening a fan’s envelope this one is for my- sorry our babies so it’s a bit more intense.” You let out a sigh as you place your water bottle back on the counter and if Harry wasn’t on the verge of an anxiety attack he’d probably take a moment to appreciate how adorable you look when you’re throwing a tiny fit about not getting your way.

It’s something he’s witnessed a few times during his morning juice visits, the long exasperated sighs that come with a hand on the hip and a glare to whatever view of his head you have at the time. But what really gets him is when you sometimes rub your bump and lean down so you can whisper to it things about how he’s being a big meanie or something equally as silly and untrue. He imagines this is something you’ve always done, throw tiny fits when things aren’t going your way or you feel out of control and he can only assume your pregnancy hormones are just exasperating those emotions making you have at least one tiny tantrum a day.

“Would you open it if you weren’t in jeans and a t shirt?” Harry’s glare answers your question. “I mean you’re the one who said you aren’t properly dressed so I’m just asking if you’d open it dressed in a Gucci suit or is it just you don’t want to open it?”

“I mean of course I want to open it but I’m-I’m nervous. And I don’t even know why? It’s just a bloody envelope.” He mumbles and you get it, you understand how he’s feeling because it’s exactly why you can’t bring yourself to open it.

“Maybe someone else should open it for us?” You suggest making Harry rub his lips together as his eyes dart back to the envelope that’s now just mocking him as it sits there unbothered and unopened on your table. “Oh what about your mom? She could open it for us!” Harry looks over at you as you take a few steps so you’re back to standing next to him, your eyes glued on the envelope.

“You’d be okay with her knowing before us?” He feels the corners of his mouth pull up into a smile when you just shrug and nod your head.

“Of course and she’ll probably figure out a way to tell us that’s super cute and not just some words stuffed inside an envelope.” He can’t argue with you about that since he knows that exactly what his mother will do. He watches you reach over and grab the envelope and hold it out for him. “So just give it to her and let her do the rest. Only if she wants to though don’t make her feel forced to do this Harry or I’ll be very upset.” Your voice lets him know you’re not kidding about not forcing his mom into anything and he just has to laugh at you trying to be threatening while twenty weeks pregnant.

“Trust me she’ll be thrilled to be the one to tell us.” He informs you making you feel a little better about the whole thing once he gently takes the envelope from you so he can carefully place it in his back pocket. “Do you need anything before I go?” You just shake your head with a smile before he begins to turn and head towards your front door.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” Harry pauses as he reaches your front door and slowly turns around and raises a brow while looking down at the floor as he tries to think of his plans for tomorrow.

“I can come over if you need me-”

“You still haven’t hung up the curtains in the their nursery.”

“Oh shit that’s right.” He feels his face get hot as he realizes how long it’s been since he told you he’d do that for you. “Then yeah I’ll uhm see you tomorrow.” You give him a smile as he turns back towards the door so he can reach for the doorknob.

“Have a good day.” You half shout over your shoulder as you turn to head down the hallway to your room so you can start getting ready for work. Harry quickly lets go of the doorknob and lets out a sigh as he looks over his shoulder, of course you forgot he can’t lock the door when he leaves because he doesn’t have a key.

“You have to come-” He stops talking when he hears you muttering what sounds like some sort of curse word from the hallway making him chuckle and shake his head as he waits for you to reappear.

“Lock the door.” You finish for him with a groan as you walk back into the living room towards the front door where Harry is standing with a playful smirk on his face. “Sorry one day I’ll remember.” You reassure him but it doesn’t do much as he just rolls his eyes before opening your door and stepping out into the hallway.

“Have a good day at work and let me know how the pillow works tonight because if you still hate it we can return it tomorrow.” You just nod as Harry stands in your hallway just outside your door, the place you thought he’d be staying the whole duration of your pregnancy but to your surprise, his knowledge of how to make green juice and actively trying to do better has earned him access to the inside of your apartment.

“Have a good day Harry.” You say with a smile that he returns before he watches you close your door, waiting a few moments to make sure he hears the locking sound before he turns to head towards the elevator.

“Nice to see you’ve been promoted from hallway dad to inside the apartment dad.” Harry instantly feels a strong bubbling of annoyance in the pit of his chest as Ethan steps out of his front door just as Harry walks by.

“What’s your problem?” Harry asks as he stops heading towards the end of the hall and turns around so he can face your neighbor who also happens to be one of your bestfriends.

“What’s my problem? I think the real question is what’s your problem Harry?”

“I don’t have one but you seem to have this weird thing with me that makes you unable to stop yourself from being an asshole.”

“I mean you’d know all about being an asshole wouldn’t you?” Harry wants to wipe the smug looking smirk off his face but he knows that wouldn’t be the smartest thing to do because you’d hear it and come out and be upset and he also is very aware of who he is and can only image the issues he’d face if the press found out he hit someone in a random apartment complex’s hallway. So instead Harry goes for the jugular in a different way, one he knows will pack more of a punch than if he used his fists.

“You know Ethan for someone who claims to be such a good friend to her,” Harry motions towards your front door making Ethan quirk a brow at him as he crosses his arms over his chest. “You sure did cause some damage with the information you chose to share with her about me being seen with someone last week.” Ethan’s jaw clenches as he takes a step forward, his eyes set in a harsh glare aimed directly at Harry.

“You wanna know why I told her about you and the tacky green dress girl?” Harry ignores the comment about his friend’s dress and just shrugs as Ethan takes another step towards him, his hands now at his sides and his eyes still set in a glare. “Because she shouldn’t have to find out that sort of thing from a magazine cover or someone texting her the photos. I wanted her to find out from someone who cares about her who would be there to help her deal with the emotions that the knowledge of you going out and living your pretty boy pop star life while she feels unable to go out and do things because she’s pregnant would stir up.” Ethan’s voice is harsh as he stands right in front of Harry, staring right into his eyes.

“And guess what the only question is that she asked me after she told me some bullshit about how you’re allowed to be seen with whoever you want because you’re single.” Harry swallows as Ethan rolls his eyes when he talks about the excuse you gave him prior to asking him about the girl Harry was seen with.

“What did she ask you?” He has a feeling whatever Ethan is about to tell him is going to make him upset he just isn’t sure which type, anger or sadness.

“Was she pretty.” The harshness of Ethan’s voice is gone and Harry swears he almost sounds as if he’s holding back his emotions as he lets out a dark chuckle and shakes his head. “She wanted to know if the fucking girl you were seen with was pretty. What does that tell you Harry? Huh? What does that mean to you?”

“I don’t-I don’t know what it means.” There’s a thousand thoughts swirling around Harry’s head as Ethan looks at the floor and takes a few deep breaths to calm himself down before looking at Harry again.

“Let me fill you in on something pretty boy.” Ethan reaches over and places a hand on top of Harry’s shoulder only making him slightly nervous. “Just because you can’t remember the night you met doesn’t mean she can’t. She remembers meeting someone she thought liked her enough to give her his number and a promise of a call the next day. She remembers that same person telling her how much he liked her and couldn’t wait to see her again. And she also remembers the feeling of being ghosted by that same fucking guy but as fate would have it she has to end up being the one to text him to tell him she’s pregnant and here’s the real kick in the ass Harry you’re going to love this part.” Harry knows for a fact he isn’t going to like the next part because he knows what’s coming, he knows exactly what Ethan is going to say and he feels his heart drop to his feet.

“She remembers the feeling of him telling her he doesn’t remember meeting her. The guy she thought was so amazing and everything she’s looking for in someone she’d like to be with doesn’t fucking remember meeting her. So now she’s stuck feeling all these weird emotions because she really liked you Harry like really liked you and now you’re her baby daddy who sometimes is an asshole and is sometimes a nice guy that just doesn’t remember anything about her.” Ethan ends his rant with a not so soft pat to Harry’s shoulder before he takes a step to the side so he can go around Harry and head to the elevator.

“So next time you think I’m the asshole who doesn’t care about her remember I’m the one who’s been here for her since she came home drunk and on cloud nine the night you two met.” He adds from a few steps behind Harry, who can’t seem to get his feet to work as he stays standing in the exact same spot. Ethan takes his silence as a sign that maybe Harry is doing some deep thinking into how he hasn’t really thought about how you must feel dealing with him during all of this, and that’s just what Ethan wants, he wants Harry to realize how deeply effected you are by not only his words but his actions as well.

“Fuck.” Harry says with a groan as he runs both hands through his hair giving it a slight tug as he closes his eyes and does his best to get ahold of himself. When he opens his eyes he runs a hand over his face and turns to head towards the stairwell, deciding he doesn’t want to risk having to share an extremely awkward elevator ride with Ethan down to the lobby.

The only thing keeping Harry together is the envelope securely tucked into his back pocket and the fact he’s on his way to see his mom who although she can be meddlesome always has an open ear to listen to his problems and offer whatever advice she can. And in this case he knows what she’s going to say because it’s what she’s been saying to him since she found out he’s been going to your house every other day, he likes you and needs to just acknowledge it and either act upon it or move on. But for some reason he just never thinks he’s ready for either option so Harry just keeps doing what he’s doing, helping you with whatever you’ll allow him to and visiting you in the mornings so he can make your juice and get caught up on how you’re feeling. As he walks towards his car once he makes it down to the lobby and into the parking lot something inside of him switches letting him know he can’t keep going on like this, he needs to sit and think about his feelings towards you because clearly he’s hurting you and that’s the last thing he wants to do since he’s promised himself he’s done being an asshole.

“That’s not level.”

“What? Yes it is I have a level in my hand and it’s saying it’s perfect.”

“Then the level is lying to you because that rod is very much not level.”

“It’s lying to me? Really?” You cross your arms over your chest as you stand next to one of the cribs while Harry takes a few steps back so he can look at the curtain rod he just finished hanging above the window. He furrows his brows as he bites down on his bottom lip while his hands rest on his hips as he realizes the rod is hanging down a bit lower on the left side. “It’s not level.” He states followed by an annoyed sigh as he steps up on the step stool so he can undo the left side.

“Tell me when it’s level then will you?” He asks over his shoulder making you just nod as you take a small step backwards. He raises the rod up a tiny bit and when you don’t say anything he raises it up just a bit more causing you to squint your eyes as you try your hardest to tell if it’s level or not.

“I think that’s good.”

“You think?”

“It’s perfect. Totally level.” You correct yourself making him let out a huff before he secures the rod to the wall. Harry is stepping down off the step stool when he hears it, the faint sound of you saying “ouch” followed by a painful type of hissing noise.

Before you can even register what’s happening you feel Harry’s hands on you, turning you around from where you’re leaning over one of the cribs to grab the curtains for him to place on the rod he just put up. His hands are soft but his hold on your arms is firm but not too firm that you feel like he’s squeezing you as his wide panic stricken eyes quickly roam all over your face before he steps back only enough so he can look for any obvious source of pain or an injury of any kind. Once you realize what’s happening you decide to end his search and hold out your hand that has a few very small cuts on the knuckles of your index and middle finger where they somehow got caught between the crib and the zipper of your zip up hoodie when bending over resulting in the zipper scratching up your knuckles the tiniest bit.

“Does this happen a lot?” You can tell by his voice that Harry is panicking as he takes your hand in both of his so he can examine the damage done to your knuckles.

“Does what happen a lot?”

“Getting hurt on things like cribs and zippers?” He asks with furrowed brows as he ever so gently runs a thumb over your knuckles, just above the scrapes so he can see if they need anything other than just a bandaid.

“I mean I’m a little clumsy sometimes but no-”

“Clumsy? As in you fall a lot and run into things?”

“First off that’s not the definition of clumsy it actually means awkward in movement or in handling things or to do something without skill or elegance and difficult to handle.” Harry has to fight the urge to roll his eyes but instead he just focuses on how small your hand looks in his while he looks at the cuts on your knuckles that are already starting to form little bruises around them. “So when I tell you I’m clumsy it doesn’t mean I fall a lot it means I drop things every now and then.” You explain with a huff as you look down at your hand that Harry is examining as if it’s a priceless jewel that’s not to be handled with anything other than feather light touches and the occasional gentle rub of his thumb.

“So you don’t fall a lot then?” He asks while dropping one of his hands from yours so he can turn around and lead you out of the nursery. You don’t bother trying to fight him so you let out a sigh as you just let him lead you by the hand out of the room and down the hallway.

“Not really no.” You answer once the two of you are in the kitchen. Harry just nods as he pulls out a chair for you to sit in at the kitchen table, to his surprise you sit down without a word or a huff and he silently thanks you for letting him fuss over you with a small smile before he turns to head towards your small medicine cabinet you have next to your fridge.

“But what if you do fall one day and no one is here?”

“Uhm then I just get up and go on with my day? What kind of fall are-”

“I don’t like you being here alone when something could happen at anytime and I’m fifteen-twenty minutes away.” You feel your eyes go wide as Harry finally finds the box of Disney themed bandaids, pulling out one with Belle on it and finding it very fitting since you have a deep love of books as well.

“Harry I’ve lived alone for a very long time and been just fine.”

“Okay well that was before-”

“Before what?”

“You got pregnant with my twins.” His words make you sit back in the chair and blink a few times as he runs the hand that’s not holding your princess bandaid over his face. “I think I’m allowed to worry about you being alone a lot when you’re walking around with-with my whole world inside of your belly. Because what if next time something happens it’s not just a little cut on your hand? What if it’s serious and I can’t get here in time to help you?” Out of instinct you place your hands on top of your bump as he tells you exactly why this little scrape on your knuckles has caused such an intense reaction.

“I worry about you and just want to know you’re safe that’s all.” You feel a lump start to form in your throat as he lets out a shaky breath before he turns to look at you.

“I understand.” Your voice is strained as you try to swallow down the emotions that want so desperately to start bubbling over. “I just don’t know how to help you not be so worried.” You tell him truthfully, because at the moment you have no clue how to help ease his anxiety about you being alone if something happens.

“I take it you don’t fancy the idea of just moving-” A sudden knock makes both of your heads turn towards the front door. Harry takes the interruption to really think about what he was about to say to you, asking how you felt about moving in with him, even if he didn’t quite mean it as seriously as you might’ve taken it he was still only a few seconds away from letting the words fall from his mouth and that takes him by more of a surprise than the knock that stopped it from happening.

“Are you expecting someone?” Your voice takes him out of his brief moment of deep thought as you look away from the door and towards him with a raised brow.

“Me? This isn’t my house why would I be expecting someone?” You just shrug as you make a move to get up but are quickly stopped by Harry standing in front of you holding out the bandaid he picked, making a small smile appear on your face when you see it’s Belle from Beauty and the Beast.

“I’m not expecting anyone.” You state as you raise your hand for him so he can place the bandage on your scraped knuckles before turning and heading for your front door so he can answer it for you. He imagines whoever it is that’s expecting you will be quite shocked to find him on the other side of the door but that’s an issue he will deal with once he has to.

“Check the peephole before you open it Harry it could be a weirdo.” You call out to him as he gets closer to the front door causing him to roll his eyes before he leans in and looks out the tiny peephole on your door.

“There’s no one out there so maybe it was just a delivery?” You raise an eyebrow as you lean over a bit so you have a direct line of sight to your front door allowing you to watch Harry open it to reveal a white box with a pink and blue bow tied around it. “It’s a cake.” He says as he bends down to carefully pick up the box so he can bring it inside.

“A cake? I didn’t order a cake.” You begin to go through your memory of the last few days as Harry kicks your front door closed with his foot before walking back towards you in the kitchen with the box in his hands. “Did I order a cake in my sleep? No. No way I- I haven’t done that in months.” You mumble to yourself making Harry send you a questioning glance as he places the cake down on the table in front of you.

“You’ve ordered a cake in your sleep before?”

“Oh has Mr. Popular never ordered something while half asleep? I highly doubt that.” You tease as Harry reaches for the card that’s taped to the top of the box before sitting down in the chair next to you.

“It’s from my mom.” He says in a very confused voice but as he goes to read the rest of the card he sees your fingers grab the top of it yanking it out of his hands.

“God have some manners this is my cake so it’s my card so let me read it.”

“Uh it said to the lovely parents to be making it our cake and our card.”

“Why would she send a cake for both of us to my apartment?”

“Because she knows I was planning on hanging the curtains for you today.” He answers as he begins to undo the bow, careful not to ruin it because he has a feeling you’re going to want to keep it for sentimental reasons. While you read over the card he opens the box and as soon as he sees what’s written on the cake he feels his stomach do a weird flip.

“All it says is-Harry? What’s-”

“This isn’t just a cake.”

“What do you mean it’s not-oh my god.” Your words turn into a whisper as Harry turns the box towards you so you can read what the top of the cake says. His eyes watch your reaction closely as you bring the hand that’s not clutching the card up to cover your mouth.

“It says we’re having twins with three little dots at the end so that-” Harry swallows before he looks at the cake that you’re still staring at with wide eyes as your hand goes from covering your mouth up to your forehead as you begin to breathe a little heavier. “That means it’s going to tell us what we are having.” He finishes with a heavy sigh.

“Okay this is fine we will just act like it’s a normal cake and honestly this is great because at the end of the day we get to have cake and who doesn’t like cake?” Harry just goes along with your anxious rambling as you begin to fan yourself with the card while he stands up from his seat so he can carefully take the cake out of the box and place it down on the table.

“I’m gonna go grab uhm plates and a-a knife.” You don’t even bother nodding as you stare at the cake in front of you that somehow holds the answer to an extremely important question while Harry stumbles his way into your kitchen on the hunt for two plates and a knife. “Okay so how do you want to do this?” He asks once he’s back sitting next to you.

“Uh maybe I’ll cut it with my eyes closed and-”

“You want me to let you hold a knife with your eyes closed? After you already had to get a bandaid not even ten minutes ago?”

“Okay then just cut it a piece and put it on a plate.” You answer as you stop fanning yourself and place the card on the table next to the cake so you can reach over and hand Harry the knife.

He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this kind of anxiety before, and he knows it’s just the anticipation of finally finding out what you’re carrying but he can’t help how shaky his hand is as he holds the knife over the cake. He shoots you a look and when you just nod at him as you chew on your bottom lip he takes a deep breath and cuts into the cake. You feel like time moves in slow motion as Harry cuts a piece and puts it on the plate in front of you, both of you stare at it for a solid minute before you can process what exactly you’re looking at.

“That’s pink.” He whispers as you let out a sniffle while you nod your head.

“And blue.” You feel your eyes begin to burn as you look at the piece of white cake that’s been dyed blue for two layers and pink for the other two with a thin layer of vanilla icing in between each layer.

“A boy and-and a girl? We’re having a boy and a girl.” Harry’s voice is watery as he finally looks away from the cake and over to you and when your eyes meet it’s as if the flood gates open and the tears begin to roll down your face.

Before you can even make sense of what you’re doing you fling your arms around Harry and pull him into an awkwardly angled hug, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he wraps his arms around you in return. He tries to hold his emotions together but as soon as he feels you give him a squeeze he can’t help but let a few tears slip past his waterline. When you pull away a few moments later you grab Harry’s hands and place them on your bump, letting your hands loosely grip his wrists.

“Edward and Nora.” The grin that spreads across Harry’s face as you say the names the two of you agreed on last week makes your heart want to explode as you place your hands over his.

“Hello Edward James and Nora Anne Styles I’m-I’m your dad and I can’t wait to meet you.” He says with a smile as he leans down so he’s closer to your bump making a whole new wave of tears want to flow down your cheeks but you do your best to blink them away.

“I hope they have your eyes.”

“Yeah? Even though they’re big and dumb?”

“More importantly they’re green.” Harry laughs at your response as he rubs his thumbs over the soft material of your shirt that’s covering your bump. “Oh god where’s Paris? I need to tell him he’s going to have a brother and a sister.” You begin to look around the kitchen for any signs of the orange cat trying not to feel overwhelmed by how good and normal it feels having Harry rub and talk to your bump.

“I’ll go find him.” Harry says with a smile as he gives your bump one last gentle rub before you lift your hands off of his allowing him to get up from his seat. You give him a smile when he looks at you one more time before heading down the hallway to check your bedroom, but the moment he’s out of sight you let out a deep breath and try to get a firm grip on your emotions not wanting to let this moment cause you to slip into a dangerous line of thinking. The type that ends with you starting to envision Harry around all the time, doting on you like he did earlier with the bandaid and just being as normal as a couple the two of you could be. But you know for that to ever happen he’d have to actually have some sort of feelings for you and as far as you know he just sees you as someone who’s having his babies that he now can tolerate being around.

“Holy shit.” Harry mumbles as he runs a hand through his hair and takes a seat at the end of your bed. He takes a minute to think about everything that’s just happened in the last five minutes. A smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he finally starts to come to some sort of conclusion about how he feels about you. His moment of peace is short lived as he hears a bell jingle and soon feels the softness of fur rubbing at his ankles. “Can you keep a secret?” He asks the orange cat as he looks up at him from where he’s sitting next to Harry’s right ankle, his favorite one to snack on Harry has learned. When Paris just tilts his head Harry does something risky and bends down and gently picks him up but to his surprise Paris just nuzzles his head into the crook of Harry’s neck and starts purring.

“I think I have a crush on your mom.” He whispers to Paris who doesn’t do anything besides purr a little louder as Harry smiles and stands up so he can bring him to you. “Don’t tell her okay?” He adds in a hushed voice and when Paris just moves his head a bit to get comfortable Harry feels like he has finally done it, he has earned the trust of your very picky and very protective cat and takes that as a good sign that he’s made the right decision in acknowledging his feelings about you, now all he has to do is figure out how to tell you.

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

Wonderful World - Part 11 ^**

Hello friends, this is a big and transitional chapter! There's a lot going on and I think it's the one that gonna start winding down this story. It's kinda long, so buckle up! I hope you guys like it!

SERIES MASTERLIST

Warnings: many angsty themes, heated arguing, mentions of OCD, psychotic symptoms, suicide, mental health crisis, HJ

WC: 14.5K

It was the day of the board meeting and Celeste had been quiet and contemplative all day. Megan had tried to talk to her, presumably to say thank you or to just communicate something she wanted, but she was avoiding her like the plague. She had no idea what she was going to say in her testimonial that evening. She had even asked her mom if she could skip school but she said no, which really pissed her off, but whatever. The day was inching by as she hid out during lunch to try and write down her thoughts like Dr. Styles had suggested a few times, but all she ended up doing was doodling little flowers, butterflies, and a few variations for her potential signature all over the page. This was hopeless.

She was also really in her head about the awful things she’d heard her grandmother say about her and her mom. She felt sadness more than anger, how could someone be that awful to their own family. She knew that her mom wasn’t close to her parents but her mom had never really talked about why. She had never seen or heard an argument between them and as much as she wished her mom had her own mom to support her, she was happy that she’d rather not associate than to make excuses for her awful behavior and mindset. She had been a bit distant from her uncle the last few days because she just didn’t know how to feel about him bringing her to therapy. She understood that he had been worried and he had been so apologetic, but that was her safe space. And well, Dr. Styles told her that it was OK to be upset at him, to feel betrayed by him, so she sat with the feelings for the last couple of days and it made her wonder if he’d still show up to the meeting. She’d understand if he felt like he should no longer be there, but as long as her mom and Dr. Styles were there she’d be fine. She put her things away and got ready to go to class and as she was sneaking out of the practice room she’d been in she saw Megan waiting outside across the hall.

“Hi.” She said nervously and Celeste nodded at her. “I ummm, I just wanted to thank you f-for defending me.” She said and immediately she started to cry and Celeste pouted, “I know I don’t deserve it because to you I am the meanest person in the world.” She sniffled, “but Miss Jones encouraged me to…come out to my friends and then-”

“That’s how they reacted?” Celeste asked softly with a frown and Megan nodded with tears in her eyes.

“I mean, I get it…my parents aren’t happy about it either…” she sniffled, “But it’s Karma I guess.” She said and Celeste shook her head.

“No it’s not, they’re just…assholes.” She said softly and Megan glanced up to her eyes and then Celeste’s eyes went wide, “I’m so sorry for calling your parents and friends assholes.” She whispered nervously and then Megan started to giggle.

“No it’s OK! I’ve been thinking the same thing but I just felt bad actually saying it.” She confessed and Celeste’s nerves faded into a small smile.

“Hey ummm, if you don’t get expelled,” she said and Megan chuckled and so did Celeste for a few seconds, “Ummm, do you want to come to the spring dance with me, Geri, and Ozzy?” She asked and Megan’s smile faded into a look of surprise.

“Are you serious?” She whispered. She had been really bummed about this because well, her “friends” had told all of their group about her and her date had flaked on her.

“Yeah, I…think so. I mean, I’ll have to ask Geri considering…you know.” She faded off into silence and Megan nodded.

“Yeah, I get it. But if she says yes and I still go to school here on Friday then I’d be happy to go.” She said with a soft smile that Celeste mirrored.

“I’m not mad at you anymore.” Celeste said and Megan exhaled.

“Because you feel bad for me.” She said with a sad smile and Celeste shrugged.

“So? It’s progress!” She said optimistically and Megan smiled.

“Yeah…progress.” She hummed.

***********

Diana had set up a video lecture for her class that afternoon and she had thought about texting Harry to see what his plans were but she decided against it. Yes, they were on great terms, but they weren’t in a place for her to be checking up on him like that. Celeste had been really quiet all afternoon, just up in her room. She had asked if she wanted to talk but she declined so she gave her some space. 

It was around 6:15pm when Damian showed up at the house to pick her and Celeste up for the meeting. He had taken their mom’s hotel room to give Diana and Celeste some space after that nuclear fight with their mom on Monday and they hadn’t really spoken, so things were still a little bit tense.

“Hey.” She said as she let him inside and he offered her a slight smile as he followed her into the kitchen, “Do you want a drink or something?” She asked as she went back to clearing out the dishwasher.

“No, I’m alright, but can I talk to you about something?” He asked and she nodded and gave him her full attention. “I’m sorry about mom.” He said again and she nodded.

“I know you are, Damian but what I continue to find hard to understand is how you can continue to make excuses for her when she treats us that way! Like I know she’s our mom, and I don’t wish her harm or anything like that but she’s so in the wrong! About tons of things, especially suggesting all those racist things about Celeste, her own granddaughter!” Diana said with frustration but kept her voice down, she didn’t want to stress Celeste even more with another argument.

“I know and I’ve been silent about it for too long but not anymore. I gave her a piece of my mind about her views and her beliefs and I told her that I didn’t want her in my life if she was going to continue treating you both that way. I told her it was wrong and that she needed to reevaluate herself…obviously she…acted unfazed about what I said but I just don’t want to be a coward anymore.” He said to her genuinely, “I’m sorry for never speaking up before and for not defending you. I just…as soon as Harry stepped in I knew that I needed to do better.” He admitted and Diana’s eyes were welling up.

“I know that it’s hard to do that, so thank you. You’ve always been there for me, you’ve always looked out for me, and taken care of me. I’m so grateful for you and I’m sorry that my relationship with mom has…basically extinguished yours, like you shouldn’t have to choose-”

“Of course I had to choose. It should have never even been a question after everything that’s happened between you two.” He said and she rolled her lips together, “I promise to do better where it counts, Di.” He said and she rounded the island and hugged him tight and he hugged back, “Te quiero mucho, guerita.” He said softly and she smiled. He hadn’t called her that nickname in many, many years.

“Yo también, feo.” She hummed back with a grin and he scoffed.

“Really? When I’m being all sweet and sentimental?” He asked as she giggled, “Quítate!” He scoffed playfully as he pried her arms off of him as she laughed, “I’m gonna go apologize to someone who will actually appreciate it.” He said as he headed out of the kitchen.

“If you’re referring to Celeste I think she’ll be far harder to crack!” She warned and he peered back into the kitchen with narrowed eyes.

“We’ll see about that.” He challenged before he headed to the stairs.

“Well don’t be too long we need to go soon!” She called and sighed when she got no response. But as she stood there by herself, kind of feeling bad for their parents, she was happy that her brother had stuck up for her like that. It truly meant the world.

*********

After her uncle had come up and apologized to her for everything that had happened on Monday, Celeste was feeling a lot better. She was happy that despite her being a bit distant he had shown up to make sure that she was alright and to just be there for her during this really nerve-racking thing she was about to do. When they arrived at the school she looked for Dr. Styles but she didn’t see him anywhere yet so when they took their seats Diana ensured to save him a spot. As the minutes to start diminished and the meeting hall got a bit more full she started to glance around again.

“He’ll be here, don’t worry.” Her mom said to her quietly and she exhaled and nodded.

“Yeah, there’s probably traffic. And if he comes a little late he might just sit in the back.” Her uncle chimed in and well, that made sense. They were the 3rd and final item on the agenda, so it would be OK, if he was a little bit late. She stopped being so concerned about him and more about her nerves about reliving the awful things that happened to her and speaking about them in front of all of these people she didn’t know.  

She was clutching her mom’s hand as they finally started to talk about her situation. They said that due to the nature of some of the evidence in this item they would not be showing the evidence, but that all board members had been briefed previously, she was grateful for that and surely Megan was too. Then, Principal Whittaker went up and spoke about the rules that Megan had broken that led to her recommending expulsion. She talked about her and about Megan as students as well. Then the school counselor, Miss. Jones talked about how she’d been working with Megan, and then Megan also went up and made a statement where she apologized again for what she had done but she never mentioned that she had been bullied too. She was crying the whole time and it made her even more nervous for her turn to go up there.

“Thank you miss Freeman, we are glad to hear that you are addressing the issues that led to your behaviors and that you have been following the recommendations and carried out all disciplinary measures consistently.” She said and Megan nodded from her seat and then glanced at Celeste who was already looking at her, “The last part of this item will be a testimonial from Miss Celeste Beltran, if you’d be so kind to come up to the podium.” The director said and she stood and glanced to her mom before swallowing thickly and walking up to the podium. It was positioned in a way in which she could see the board members but also those in the audience.  The woman started to speak but she was distracted as she scanned around the audience to find Dr. Styles she couldn’t see him anywhere and her mouth started to go dry and her heart to sink in so much disappointment. “Miss Beltran?” The woman spoke to her once again and she blinked a few times to get rid of the tears welling up in her eyes because he wasn’t here. He promised.

**********

“Miss Beltran, we’ve heard from Miss Freeman about the steps she has taken to reconcile this situation with you. Would you say that she has sincerely done her best to make amends for victimizing you over the past several months?” She asked her and Celeste didn’t answer.

Diana frowned as she saw Celeste glancing around the room with a frown on her face and that was enough to confirm to her that Harry had not shown up. She had texted him a few times throughout the meeting but she hadn’t received any responses from him. She sent one more, asking where he was. She started to worry that something bad had happened to him because he wouldn’t have not shown up without a warning or notice. He wanted to be here for Celeste. 

“Miss Beltran?” The director called to Celeste and Diana frowned as she saw that she wanted to cry. So she cleared her throat and it caused Celeste to look at her and at Damian. She gave her a slight nod and with that she exhaled shakily before she parted her lips to speak.

“Ummm what was the question?” She asked again softly.

“Would you say that Miss Freeman has sincerely done her best to make amends for victimizing you over the past several months?” 

“Oh, ummm yes.” She said.

“Do you feel like your school has adequately administered consequences to help rectify the situation between you and Miss Freeman?”

“Yes.” She responded.

“Are there any other things you’d like the school board to consider before we decide on a verdict for Miss Freeman’s expulsion?”

“Ummm…Megan’s been going through a lot.” She started off and then glanced to her, “Like Miss Jones advised, she wrote me a private letter explaining herself and at first I was…even more upset. But she’s dealing with something quite big that has…led for her to also be bullied at school.” She explained solemnly, “I didn’t expect to step in an defend her, but I did. Not out of pity, but because we all deserve to feel safe. And at first I was scared of her and of running into her but I’m not anymore. Now that I understand her better I’ve…” she paused and bit her lip as she decided to just say what she’d been mulling over all day, “I’ve forgiven her.” She said and Megan started to cry even harder and Celeste sniffled as well.

Diana’s eyes welled up with tears and she squeezed Damian’s hand at Celeste’s confession. “If she’s allowed to stay I know we won’t be having any more issues like this and…I mean, it’d kind of suck if you expelled her because she’s supposed to go to the dance with my friends and I on Friday.” She said and the audience broke out in a small chuckle. Diana sniffled through her laughter and shook her head as she glanced to Celeste who had glanced to her briefly. “I do think she deserves another chance.” She finished and the director thanked her before she stepped down and headed back to her seat. As soon as she was sitting Diana hugged her into her side and kissed the top of her head.

“I’m really proud of you, mamita.” She whispered and Celeste just leaned further into her hold. After that they said that they would take 15 minutes to deliberate in private and called a recess to the meeting. Diana excused herself to go to the bathroom, she took a little detour outside on the way over. She needed to call Harry, she had this awful sinking feeling in her stomach that something was wrong and that just made her think about Wesley and she was starting to spiral. Her vision was blurring with tears as she pulled out her phone to dial Harry. When she felt a hand on her shoulder she whipped around quickly as the unexpected touch gave her a fright and she was riddled with disappointment and even more concern when she saw Megan’s mom behind her.

“I’m so sorry I scared you.” Mrs. Freeman said and Diana chuckled away the scare.

“Oh, it’s alright.” She assured with a hand on her chest.

“I just wanted to…say thank you for being such a good parent.” She said softly and Diana shook her head as she looked at her feet for a moment.

“I can’t take credit for anything Celeste said up there, that was all her and her therapist’s hard work.” She assured.

“Sure. But she had to learn to have a great character from somewhere and well, even if you might think you’ve got nothing to do with it you’ve actually got everything to do with it. Even if Megan gets expelled I ummm, I think she’ll be alright with that declaration.” She said and Diana smiled.

“She’s a good kid, Megan. And I mean…I don’t want to speak out of turn but…she deserves to be happy, no matter what that looks like for her.” She said softly and Mrs. Freeman nodded.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about that too…my husband, he’s an elder at Crossroads Baptist church.” She said quietly, “I sometimes get really extreme with what I think because I feel like I have to. And I’m not going to lie, I’ve judged many people for the way they choose to live their lives and it’s unfortunate that it took my daughter being in that position for me to understand just how wrong and…un-christ like that is.” She said and Diana hummed in understanding as she listened. She wouldn’t necessarily agree that people chose their sexuality for themselves, but if this woman was coming around to any reason that was progress on its own. “I’m doing better though. I’m…praying a lot and branching out a lot more because I don’t want to lose my daughter. I even found a church close by that’s not as rigid as the one we’ve been going to all this time.” 

“That’s wonderful, I’m glad you’ve found that. And well, I mean, I know that it’s hard to reconcile certain things at times but there is always a way. And you know, sticking to your beliefs is also important and it’s good to be able to find a space in which you can question and learn and grow without judgement. Hopefully Megan feels accepted there too, but the biggest thing is for her to feel accepted by you.” 

“Yeah.” She agreed quietly with a smile, “Well, I just wanted to say that to you before I missed my chance and ummm whatever happens, I’m sure it’ll be for the best.” She said and Diana nodded.

“Agreed.” She hummed. Mrs. Freeman was just about to excuse herself when Damian came outside.

“They’re about to start up again!” He said.

“That was quick.” Diana said as she and Mrs. Freeman agreed as they both hurried over to the door and went their separate ways as they headed to their seats.

“Is he here?” Celeste asked her softly and Diana frowned as she shook her head.

“No, I didn’t see him, sweetheart. I’m sorry.” She whispered as she tried to remain calm and Celeste just huffed.

“He’s a liar.” She said with disdain and Diana frowned.

“Mamita, he really wanted to be here, you know that. I’m sure there’s a really good explanation for why he’s not here. I mean…god forbid something happened to him or-”

“After some deliberation and consideration of the testimony given by our four witnesses  these are the votes of the members of the school board.” The director’s voice overtook hers so she just quieted down, “In favor of expulsion - 4 votes. Not in favor - 6 votes.” She said and Diana glanced over to Mrs. Freeman who was smiling at her already and hugging Megan close, “Because the majority has voted against, Megan Freeman will remain a student at Los Angeles Center for Enriched Studies, she will be on a probationary period during the fall Semester of the new school year. We expect her to continue working with Miss Jones regularly and we will work with the principal, student, and her family to finalize the details of this probationary period. We have gone through all of our agenda items for today’s meeting so that concludes this session. Our next meeting is scheduled for July 5th. We will only be considering and addressing agenda items pertinent to the new school year. Have a good night everyone.” The woman finished and everyone started getting up to leave.

When Megan came up to hug Celeste afterwards she knew that despite the smile on her face she was extremely angry because Harry didn’t show up. She knew that there was a good reason for it, he wouldn’t let Celeste down like that, but the fact that he wasn’t answering her texts was worrying her more than she cared to admit. She felt sick to her stomach and passed on a late night snack when they stopped at a fast-food restaurant on the way home. She hoped he was OK and she did the most she could to talk herself down from thinking of the worst case scenario, but based on her experience it was always the worst case scenario.

**********

Harry had welcomed in his last scheduled patient of the day at 4:30pm like he usually did on Wednesdays. But since he had no class tonight he had taken his time with doing all of his report notes so that he could kill some time before the school board meeting at 7, but all that changed when one of his patients just dropped by at 6pm in a full blown crisis. This man had unfortunately been dealing with OCD for a large part of his life and he had just lost his job because his compulsions had gotten in the way of his productivity; he was a checker. And he also shared that his wife was threatening to divorce him and now this man wanted to kill himself. 

Obviously, this was an emergency and he needed to help deescalate this man from his breaking point and suicidal ideations and intents immediately. The more digging Harry did, he discovered that the patient had not taken any of his meds that month because he had accidentally dropped them all on the ground when he was organizing them into his med container and so he had tossed them all; his germophobia had gotten the best of him. But this was a big issue because this should’ve been his second month on a combination of an SSRI and antipsychotic medication because one of the big overarching symptoms he had was paranoia. Harry needed to diminish those psychotic symptoms first in order to get them to a level where he could see if  clinical intervention could help so that he could ween him off of the antipsychotics - he tried to steer away from prescribing antipsychotics for OCD as much as possible, but some people just needed them whether it be for a few months or for the rest of their lives, but long terms users of antipsychotics were often riddled with really unfortunately side effects later down the line and of course, he didn’t want that for any of his patients.

All of this just completely distracted him and so by the time he had finished talking with his patient, assessing suicidality, and making a safety plan for him it was a little bit after 8:30 and he immediately felt sick to his stomach; he had missed the board meeting. He rushed back into his office and checked his phone to see that Diana had texted him a few times.

“Shit!” He cursed as he opened up his phone to check her messages.

Diana Beltran:

6:50pm: Hey, I saved you a seat. We’re in the third row on the left side.

7:13pm: Are you sitting somewhere else?

7:43pm: I just need to know that you’re OK. Please let me know that you’re OK.

“Fuck.” He sighed in disappointment as he immediately dialed her number and it rang and rang until it reached her voicemail. He didn’t know if she was angry at him so he didn’t want to just show up at her place unannounced; he’d be livid if she’d left him hanging without so much as a warning. He tried her again a few more times before he just grabbed Misty and put her in her little travel kennel so that they could head home. She’d call him back when she was ready.

*********

“No goodnight?!” Damian called after Celeste as soon as she started heading up the stairs when they got home. She huffed and came back and hugged him half-heartedly.

“Thanks for being there for me. Love you, goodnight.” She said and then rushed up the stairs and Diana sighed as she slipped off her shoes by the door. She’d try Harry after Damian left, she hadn’t heard her phone go off.

“She’s just really bummed about Harry not showing up.”

“Yeah, what’s up with that. Did he say anything to you?” He asked as he followed Diana into the kitchen and she nibbled on her lip nervously as she shook her head and flicked on the lights.

“I texted him a bunch of times and he never answered.” She said as she set her purse down on the island. She swallowed the lump in her throat and glanced over to Damian, “What if something happened to him?” She asked in a small and nervous voice and his features softened as he came over to her and pulled her into his arms.

“No, no, no. I’m sure he’s fine.” Damian said as she started to cry softly and he shushed her and held her close. 

Damian knew that this uncertainty was probably bringing back a lot of really awful memories for her. One of his biggest life regrets was leaving for school early that summer. Wesley’s passing had been traumatic for Diana all on it’s own, but the aftermath was even worse. Their parents forced her to go to Columbia just weeks later and she was in an awful place mentally. She was also all alone in New York, he tried to visit as often as he could, but he was also in school almost 7 hours away. And when she found out she was pregnant it made things worse for a time because of the stress of having to tell their parents; it was a secret between them until they went home for Christmas break, then all hell broke loose. For a long time he was the only person that she had in her corner. Their dad wasn’t angry at her like their mom, but he just stayed out of it, which was almost worse in a way.

“He better fucking be.” She sniffled and Damian pondered whether he should even ask his next question but he did it anyway.

“Di, do you…have feelings for Harry?” Damian asked gently and she just sighed.

“I’m trying not to.” She sniffled as she pulled back from their hug and he let her go to be able to look at her better. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked with a confused chortle.

“It means that…I can’t, like I just can’t.” She said softly, “Celeste would never forgive me. She’s already gonna be angry at Harry for who knows how long for not showing up tonight. It’s just…weird you know? Me dating her therapist.”

“Does he feel the same?”

“Yeah.” She confirmed and Damian frowned.

“Oh…”

“Yeah.” She sighed in defeat, “We’ve…snuck a few kisses,” she confessed and Damian smiled, “But ummm…I’m scared.” She admitted, “I’m scared that it’s all going to get taken away too soon because he’s like…really fucking great and we get along so well! And I don’t want to bring him into my life like that or Celeste’s and lose him. I don’t want her to know what that feels like. I know that the odds are like…insane for the same thing to happen but they still exist. And I keep using Celeste being his client as an excuse for why we can’t try, but it’s me who just…can’t.” She confessed, “I’m the biggest obstacle.” 

“Well let me tell you something, since the moment you found out that you were pregnant, despite the surprise and fear and everything else, you’ve lived your life to make Celeste happy. Everything you’ve done has been to benefit her. And that’s so admirable of you, but you’ve forgotten yourself along the way. I know that you’re happy with your life, but you need more and she needs more too, and I also think you want more and I know that’s hard for someone like you to accept, but it’s OK to want more.” Damian said to her earnestly, “I really like Dr. Styles-er, Harry, whatever…” he said as she giggled softly, “I like how he didn’t even hesitate to stand up for you and Celeste against mom, he’s a protector.” He said with a smile, “Maybe before I go we can all do something together again. I mean we as in the adults.” He tagged in.

“I mean…they’re really big on escape rooms.” Diana said as she crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“Hmmm, never done that before…sounds like torture.” Damian said and Diana laughed softly.

“I mean, it is if you’re not smart or have no problem solving and critical thinking skills….so yeah, maybe we should do something else- ah!” Diana shrieked as Damian playfully head-locked her for a few seconds and gave her a noogie before releasing her as he laughed at how she rubbed at the crown of her head, “Jeez.” She huffed through her own laughter and he smirked.

“What are big brothers for? Now, I’m staying at the hotel again because I want to get my money’s worth out of mom’s room, but I’ll pick Celeste up from school tomorrow if you want?”

“Yeah, that would be great. I moved my office hours to tomorrow so I’m gonna be late. Probably make it back around 7:30 or 8.” She explained.

“Perfect.” He hummed and they hugged once more before she headed up to her room. When she pulled her phone out of her purse she saw that Harry had tried to call and so she locked her bedroom door and then rushed into her bathroom and closed that door as well before calling him back. The line only rang twice before it stopped.

“Harry?” She spoke immediately.

“Hey, Di! I’m so, so sorry that-”

“I’m glad you’re alright.” She interrupted with a relieved sigh, “Fuck, I’m so happy you’re OK.” She said more quietly and he bit his lip as he heard her sniffle, “When you weren’t answering I thought maybe something had happened to you or-”

“Oh my god, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry.” He apologized as he paced around his bedroom, “I didn’t mean to worry you or scare you. Fuck, I didn’t even think about that.” He said with a frown, mentally beating himself up for making her so worried like that, “How upset is Celeste?” He asked lowly.

“Pretty mad, she was looking for you right before she started and it tripped her up a bit but she…ended up publicly forgiving Megan which I wasn’t expecting.” She shared and Harry smiled as he heard this.

“Wow…we were talking about that on Monday…and then everything else went down.” He said and she hummed, “I’m so proud of her.” He sighed happily and Diana smiled, “God, I wish I could’ve been there.” He said softly. And then he realized that she hadn’t even asked where he was or what happened, “You’re not gonna ask where I was?” He asked and she huffed out a little laugh.

“Ummm, if you want to tell me you can.” She said and he chuckled, “But I didn’t feel the need to ask because I know you wanted to be there. I mean, you promised, and I figured it must’ve been something really important for you to not show up. And I don’t know if that’s my business, which is why I didn’t ask you, but I…I do know that if you could’ve been there you would have been.” She explained her reasoning for not even asking him what happened and Harry felt a sense of satisfaction with her response, she trusted him, implicitly. It gave him butterflies in his stomach to know that, “I’m just…relieved that you’re alright.” She said softly.

“Yeah, love. M’safe and sound.” He assured again and after a beat of silence he spoke up again, “Well I’m gonna tell you anyway to dissipate my guilt.” He said and she chuckled, “A client just walked in a bit before I was getting ready to go, he was in a full blown crisis, wanted to kill himself…it was kind of messy. Apparently he’d been off his meds the whole month and never said anything.” He explained and she hummed.

“See. Knew it must’ve been something big. Is he alright?”

“Yeah, he’s better thankfully. I also alerted his primary doctor, we made a safety plan, and I refilled his prescription. That took a bit of time since he wasn’t due for a refill until a week or two, so I had to chat with a pharmacist about it…it was an ordeal, but we sorted everything out.” He assured. “So ummm, what else ended up happening?” 

“Well they didn’t expel Megan, she’s all good. Her ummm, her mom talked to me during the deliberation break and well she’s ummm, she’s coming around, trying to be more supportive of her.”

“That’s really good to hear.” He smiled.

“Yeah, Celeste apparently invited her to the dance with her and her friends this Friday since Megan’s friends are…assholes.”

“Oh, she’s making strides!”

“Yeah…I mean, I know she can be stubborn and resentful, but she’s got a huge, huge heart and she’s so empathic and I just think that this was really mature of her.”

“Yeah, honestly it is! I’m really, really proud of her. I’ll be sure to tell her with extra, extra sweetness on Monday.” He said and Diana sighed.

“If she even wants to see you on Monday.” Diana said and Harry chuckled.

“You really think she’d want to cancel?”

“It’s highly likely…I’m gonna ask you something and you can be honest about it, if I just..let her cancel is that like…reinforcing her to be a brat? Like I understand that she has a right to be upset, but things happen, emergencies happen, and you can’t always get what you want, you know? I think I’ve been really lenient over the last couple of months because of what she’s been going through but I also don’t want her to think that it’s OK to just not confront difficult situations. She’s capable of it, clearly, but ummm…I don’t know…” she trailed off.

“I don’t think so. If her feelings are hurt and she needs some space to just figure out what she wants to say or even if she wants to say anything I think that’s important for her to do. I mean, whether she ever brings it up or not I’ll still apologize for letting her down.” He said.

“Well thank you for that, I appreciate it. Maybe she can practice those new forgiveness skills with you too.” Diana said and Harry chuckled.

“Hopefully…”

“Ummm, Damian is leaving on Friday night, well it’s more of a redeye on Saturday, but we were planning on sending him off with a night of fun since Celeste will be at the dance. And he wanted to know if you’d like to join us?” Diana brought up and Harry grinned.

“Are you asking for your brother or is your brother asking you to ask for me to join for you?” Harry questioned and she giggled softly.

“Ummm….both? He really liked you and well, I really like you too. I told him we’ve kissed.”

“You seem to like telling people we kiss.” He mused with a smirk and Diana suddenly felt so nervous as he pointed this out.

“Oh…I guess I do, I hadn’t realized…”

“S’alright, I told Henry that we kissed right after that first time…I’m shocked he didn’t tell Grace.” Harry chuckled and Diana did as well, “I don’t mind that you tell people, by the way. I actually quite like that you…want to tell people and acknowledge it. S’never fun being a secret.”

“Yeah…and well, I just…think I want to see how people react and it’s never as bad as I assumed. And that also makes me feel less guilty about it.” She admitted.

“Good. You shouldn’t feel guilty about doing things that make you happy.” He said softly and she bit her lip to suppress her smile.

“Yeah. I’m learning that.” She confessed.

“So I do make you happy.” He stated inquisitively and she chuckled nervously as she shrugged.

“I…I mean…yes, you do.” She confirmed and Harry was smiling so hard he swore his cheeks would soon start to hurt.

“You make me happy too.” He assured and she smiled happily.

“That makes me more happy.” She said and he chuckled.

“So do you have any idea what our plans entail for Friday?”

“I suggested an escape room and he said that sounded like torture, so maybe we just do something else.” Diana said with a chuckle.

“I mean, you can never go wrong with a little bar hopping.”

“Let me just clarify that we do want him to make it to his flight, Harry.”

“We’re not gonna fuck him up, just get him a little more relaxed for the flight.” He said and she laughed quietly.

“Sure, sure.” She hummed in amusement, “Well look I’ll try to finalize everything by tomorrow, so just keep an eye out. It might be a late arrival since I had to change my office hours to tomorrow to be able to go to the meeting tonight, but it’ll get finalized tomorrow, OK?”

“Sounds good.” He assured.

“Alright. Well I’m gonna start getting ready for bed but thank you for getting back to me, I really appreciate it.” She sighed contently.

“Of course, love. See you soon. Sleep well.”

“Thank you, you too.” She smiled before they hung up.

*********

Just as Diana had thought, when she tried to bring up Harry over breakfast Celeste was still really hurt and upset that he hadn’t shown up for the meeting and she was not ready to talk to him on Monday. She was chalking it up to the fact that maybe that professional boundary had been crossed when he went to Disneyland with all of them and that she was sure now that he wasn’t going to go to her spring concert either. Diana tried to talk her down and remind her that this was still really fresh and that she might change her mind, but Celeste didn’t seem open to having a change of heart and asked her to cancel the appointment. Diana said she would, but she’d wait the weekend, she knew Harry wouldn’t mind if she notified him on Monday morning that Celeste needed more time. As they pulled up to the drop off zone at her school she reminded her that Damian was going to come get her and with that reminder she Wass saying goodbye and rushing off to the building.

Diana’s day had been quite busy. Her morning had been full of meetings with current and incoming students for advising and program planning , she’d grade a bit in between meetings before she’d move along to the next one. This is how her day flew by, it was around 7:30pm now and her eyes were burning from staring at her screen for half the day. The last week of school was already next week, so most people were feeling some sort of pressure and plenty of exhaustion. No one had come by after 6, so she’d been trying to finish as much grading as possible, she’d finish the paper she started and then call it a night.

Diana stood from her chair and stretched a bit, giving her neck and back relief from the position she’d been in nearly all day. She walked over to the big glass wall that offered a view of this little patio/picnic area that was behind their building, but she could hardly see it due to the bright lights of her office reflecting off of the glass. She huffed and went over to the switches and turned them off. She had a her desk lamp on and that lighting was still enough to illuminate her office without it being to harsh on the eyes. She went back to the window and peered out to see that the seating areas was desolate now, but the lighting on the fountain out there was so pretty and she made a mental note to take more walks out there next year. She exhaled as she walked over to roll down the blinds, the setting sun was right in her eye line. So she took the chain and tugged on it to get them down for the night. She started to rush when she heard a few taps on the open door behind her and quickly turned around. 

“Hey.” Harry smiled timidly as he stood at the entrance of her office with a tote over his shoulder and a big brown paper bag in hand and she smiled brightly. He looked so cute with his light yellow pullover and his glasses on his face. She’d maybe seen him with them on once before, but she liked the look on him.

“Hi! This is a surprise.” She smiled wide.

“Yeah,” he chuckled nervously, “I hope m’not intruding. I remembered you said that you were working late tonight so I figured I’d stop by with some dinner. Hope you haven’t eaten?” He asked hopefully and her eyes softened.

“This is so thoughtful of you, Harry. And no, I haven’t had dinner.” She said with a smile and so he took that as his cue to step in. He set his tote down on a chair as she made some space on the coffee table for him to set the food down. “Ummm, I don’t expect anyone else to come by can you close the door please?” She asked as she set the books from the table on the other chair there. 

“Yes.” He said and did that before starting to unpack the bag, “Alright, so I got drunken noodles and spicy eggplant.” He said.

“Ooh, that smells amazing…” she hummed, already feeling her mouth water from the scent alone. “Here’s some rice…” he said pulling out another container, “And…the mango and sticky rice.” He said pulling out another container. “Here are the plates and utensils…” he said setting those down, “Do you have napkins?”

“Yes!” She said turning around and opening one of her drawers and pulling out a thin stack of them before heading back to the coffee table and setting them down. Harry was arranging everything on the little coffee table and she grinned. “Oh wow, this looks incredible. Thank you, Harry.” She smiled with gratitude as he moved the bag aside as she sat on the rug and he followed suit. 

“You’re welcome, love.” He hummed, “Just wanted to do something nice for you.” He explained as he started to open everything up, “You first.” He insisted and she sighed and went for it. They ate while making some small talk about how their days had gone and just caught up little bit before they both split dessert.

“Mango and sticky rice always hits the spot.” She hummed in delight and he smiled and nodded in agreement.

“Doesn’t it? It’s so light and simple.”

“I should learn how to make this…” she mused as she set down her fork.

“I would accept that as payment for Celeste’s therapy.” He joked.

“Say less!” She said and laughed along with with Harry, “Ummm…speaking of which…she asked me to cancel your appointment this morning.”

“Hmm…” Harry mused.

“Yeah, I haven’t because I mean…maybe she’ll get over it over the weekend or if something happens at the dance…so I’ll let you know Monday morning if that’s alright?”

“Yeah, of course.” He assured and she nodded.

“She was saying that maybe having you come to Disneyland probably made you realize you were getting too close to us so that’s why you bailed. And that you won’t be showing up to her concert for sure now…she’s quite dramatic, like all kids that age…but umm I wasn’t sure if I should be the one to tell her that you had an emergency with a client.”

“Yeah, I should explain it to her, don’t worry. And as for the concert, thank you for bringing that up I was planning on going anyway, but I definitely need to make up for missing the meeting. I’ll block that time off right now.” He said as she reached for his tote and pulled his phone out. Diana smiled as he started typing away on his phone, reminding him of the date and time when he asked, “Does she have a favorite flower or candy bar or animal?”

“Mmmm, she likes all flowers and you know, she’s never really asked me for candy bars…” Diana said pensively, “But she’s currently obsessed with llamas, though I’d really prefer if you didn’t get her one.” She joked and he chuckled.

“Got it. Buy a whole herd of llamas.” He spoke aloud as he typed on his phone and she rolled her eyes playfully as he grinned, “Isn’t her birthday coming up next week? On the 8th?” Harry asked and Diana nodded with a smile.

“Yeah actually.”

“Is she having one of those 15 year old parties?” He asked and Diana shook her head.

“Hell no. We both felt the same about that. She hasn’t told me what she wants to do with her friends yet. Ooh maybe you can teach me how to bake a really nice cake for her.” She said and Harry nodded.

“Honestly, yes. I could come over on Saturday morning? It should maintain it’s freshness for Monday.” He assured and Diana nodded in agreement. “Wow…15 years old…what were you up to 15 years ago?” He asked her and she glanced to him with a straight face and his eyebrows raised before he started to laugh, “Oh shit, yeah you were pretty busy I’d say.” He chuckled as she shook her head with a giggle.

“Yeah, I’d say a little busy… just giving birth to a whole ass person!” She said and he chuckled again and then bit on his lip.

“Ummm, how was that by the way? Having Celeste, you said you were alone.” He recalled and she nodded.

“Well I was in class when I started getting contractions, but I wasn’t due until the next week so I didn’t think much of them. They were so small and far apart that I just took a Tylenol and continued on through my day.” She said and he shook his head, “I was in my night class when they started getting more intense and so I finished my class and drove myself to the hospital.”

“You finished class? You nerd…” He chuckled and she laughed.

“It was important to me! We were learning about neurotransmitters and the synaptic cleft and all that good stuff. Even made it to finals.” She said with a grin and he chuckled, “But ummm, once they told me I was dilating quite fast I called Damian, he was in France with his girlfriend at the time because we weren’t expecting her until the next week and so he found a flight, but he wouldn’t be making it util the next night the earliest so I knew I would be alone.” She said and her smile started to drop a bit, which he noticed quickly.

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” He said quietly and she shook her head.

“It’s alright.” She assured him with a small nod, “That was probably the hardest thing I ever had to do.” She continued, “Like…in the moment it’s kind of hard to remember that like…the female body is built to be able to give birth.” She explained with a small chuckle and he nodded, “The nurses were really great and supportive though, they’re the ones who reminded me that women are the most powerful people on the planet and they were so encouraging-”

“Hyping you up? As the kids say.” He asked and she chuckled and nodded.

“Yeah, as the kids would say.” She agreed, “And by 4am the next morning she was here!” She said with more excitement now.

“And you still went to finals?”

“Well, it was a Saturday when she was born and my first final was a Wednesday afternoon so that’s why I was able to go do that. I was only taking 3 classes at the time so it’s not like my schedule was insane for exams or anything like that.” She assured and he shook his head with a smile.

“Still! You had a baby.” He said and she giggled, “Did you know you were gonna name her Celeste?” He asked and she smiled.

“No. I was having such a hard time choosing a name. Like, I wanted a name that would also remind me a bit of Wes in some way and I was just having the hardest time doing that in a way that I liked. After she was born I was in the hospital, looking over some old photos for inspiration and well there were tons of football pictures of Wesley, our high school colors were light blue and white. And well, Wes was going to go to UCLA, which also has that light blue color. Then, in Spanish Celeste means light blue and that’s how I chose Celeste.” She shrugged and he smiled.

“It’s cool how you were able to make that connection. And well, it’s a beautiful name.” He said and she smiled.

“Thank you. As long as she likes it.” She smiled and he did as well.

“You’re so fucking cool and badass.” He smiled with pride and she looked away bashfully.

“I’m glad you think so.” She muttered, “My teenage daughter begs to differ.”

“OK, when you put it like that…” he teased and she laughed and shook her head.

“You’re so annoying.” She laughed and he grinned.

“I thought I was thoughtful…” he teased.

“We all have good and bad in us, don’t we?” She asked and he laughed softly.

“I suppose so.” He confirmed with a small smile and she sighed as they just looked at each other for a few moments and her lips quirked up in a smile again, “What?” He questioned.

“Nothing, you just…look cute with your glasses on.” She complimented and she didn’t miss how he got all bashful over it.

“Oh, ummmm, thanks. Ran out of contacts.” He explained and she hummed.

“Well, I like this but I’m also biased, if you haven’t noticed I have like…10 pairs of glasses.” She said and he chuckled.

“Yeah, but yours are all cool and funky, these are just plain.” He said.

“Yeah, meaning they don’t distract for your chiseled and handsome face.” She said with a grin.

“Chiseled and handsome, huh? Is that what you really think of me?” He asked and she giggled.

“I mean…it sounds better than just saying hot.” 

“No, no. Hot is good too.” He assured her and she sniggered along with him. “I like your office, it’s really nice, cozy.” 

“Thank you.” She smiled happily, “That’s the vibe I’m going for.” She assured, “How’s your grading coming along? Excited for finals next week?”

“It’s…coming.” He said and she chuckled, “The papers are so long…if they ask me back for another semester I’m gonna try an exam and see what I prefer to grade. What do you prefer?”

“Well the exams are definitely easier to grade. However, I prefer giving papers when I can, as annoying as it is, because the paper ensures that the student is applying their knowledge. If they submit a good paper that proves to me that the students have met all of the learning objectives of my class. I want them to think about the information and find a purpose for it. I mean, mostly anyone can memorize facts and answer questions about them, you know?”

“Yeah, I see your point.” He hummed pensively, “And well, my last classes were the ones this week since both sections are doing papers so I don’t have anything going for me next week.” He explained.

“So you would say yes if you were asked back?”

“Oh definitely. It was a bit terrifying at first, but I really love it. It feels like the perfect way to completely give back. Like yeah, it’s time consuming but definitely rewarding. You know, I felt so powerful and fucking cool when a student asked me for a recommendation letter a few weeks ago.” He said with a big smile and she giggled.

“Oh shit, don’t let the power go to your head!” She warned with a chuckle.

“I don’t know, it’s more gratifying than signing your name on things as a doctor.” 

“Hmmm…interesting.”

“Yeah, like believing in someone so much that you vouch for them? That’s so cool.”

“It actually is pretty cool…” she agreed with a smile. They were interrupted by her phone ringing on her desk and she excused herself before standing up and going to pick it up, “Hey!” She answered as she turned around to face him again as she rested her bum on the edge of her desk, “No, Damian I didn’t realize it was almost 9.” She said and his eyes widened in shock as she looked at him and nodded, “Well I got really sucked into grading and then Harry stopped by with some dinner so I- no, it’s not a date.” She said and Harry chuckled. He agreed this was not a date, at least not the kind of date he would want to take her on, but he was glad that she was talking about him to Damian instead of making up some lie as to why she was delayed.

“Well we just got to talking. I’ll be home soon, don’t wait up, it’s fine.” She said and Harry stood up and started making his way over to her with a smile and she glanced up at him as he placed his hands on her hips as he basically closed the space between them. Harry started to lean down to her and she raised her hand to not let him get too close to her face yet and so he just kissed the palm of her hand and she smiled at him as he then kissed up her fingers, his eyes not daring to leave hers, “Ummm no, she has school for 2 more weeks so cannot stay up until midnight.” Diana said and Harry grinned, “Of course she lied to you, she’s a teenager…OK, fine. When I get home she needs to head up. Yeah, yeah…bye.” She hung up and shook her head as she put her phone down before glancing up to him with a smile, “What’s the meaning of this?” She asked playfully.

“Nothing, it made me really happy that you didn’t lie about this.” He said simply and she smiled up at him.

“Feels good to say it.” She confessed and sure, it was something so simple but it was making Harry’s heart pound erratically with excitement.

“Can I kiss you, Professor Beltran?” He asked quietly with a smug smile and she giggled as he dipped down a bit lower and she hummed pensively.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea…” she teased as her hands now ran up and down his chest.

“Please?” He asked quietly, almost pleading with her as his hands inched back just enough to have his fingers dig into her bottom in perfect time with his request and she giggled quietly. 

“Ugh, fine…if you insist.” She said with a dramatic eye roll and he chuckled as he hoisted her up and she gasped in surprise until she felt him set her down on her desktop.

“There, you’re closer now.” He said as one of his hands cradled her face and she leaned into the warmth and comfort of his touch. He was a bit hesitant to get too close because he was fighting for his life against the erection that was raging in his pants, but she soon hugged him and pulled his body flush to her own and he exhaled shakily against her lips as she felt it pressed right up against her, their eyes were on each others’ as the sexual tension boiled over between them.

“You’re so hard for me.” She whispered, her lips tickling his with her soft words. He felt his cock throb and a chill traveled down his spine as he nodded, “Can I help you with it?” She asked and he tightened his grip on her waist as his other hand dragged her bottom lip down with his thumb.

“Love…” He whined and she smiled before kissing the pad of his thumb.

“What?”

“Is that a good idea?”

“I don’t know. I don’t have to do anything f’you don’t want though.” She whispered as her grip on him loosened up.

“Of course I want y’to but-”

“Then?” She interrupted as her hands came back to his chest and she gently raked her nails down his chest until they stopped at his trousers and he squeezed his eyes shut as his jaw tensed up and she smiled as she watched him try to keep himself composed.

“Fuck.” He groaned lowly as he knocked his head back and she leaned up a bit, supporting her weight with one hand against her desk to be able to kiss his neck and he sighed in relief as her lips sponged gentle kisses down the column of his throat. She could feel it bob as he swallowed thickly, “A-are you sure?” He asked and she hummed against his neck.

“Yeah, so fucking sure.” She whispered as she kissed him a bit harder and he dug his fingers into her as she started to suck a little, not enough to leave a mark though.

“Harder.” He mumbled his request, “Suck harder. Wanna see your mark on me tomorrow.” He muttered lowly and breathily and she moaned softly as she parted her mouth a bit more and sucked a bigger patch of his skin into her mouth as her right hands traveled lower to grope at the bulge in his pants, “Oh shit…” he sighed in satisfaction as she started to rub the palm of her hand up and down his length. He knew he was holding her too hard so he let her go and grabbed the edge of her desk instead, his grip was so hard that his knuckles were going white as she worked him up even more. She smoothed her tongue over the mark she left under his jaw before kissing it tenderly and then pulled back a bit.

“Can I undo your pants?” She asked him.

“Yeah, baby.” He confirmed and she moved forward with his permission. 

Diana immediately brought her hands to the button and unfastened it with ease before she moved to the zipper, she tugged it down gently and thankfully with a steady hand despite the nerves she felt at the prospect of being sexually intimate with someone after quite a long time. Nerves were natural. And she was relieved that she felt nervous in this moment rather than anxious, because she’d been so anxious about sexual intimacy, which is why she hadn’t done anything with anyone in a while. But Harry was a safe person to her, she knew that there was plenty more to learn about him, but she knew enough to trust him and to feel comfortable around him. She was attracted to him and she often found herself fantasizing about him when she got some alone time. She hadn’t realized that she’d not moved for a few moments until Harry’s hands grabbed her cheeks and turned her up to his face.

“Hey, are you OK?” He asked quietly as he searched her eyes.

“Ummm, yeah I’m just nervous and I was justing thinking that I haven’t done something like this in a really long time.” She explained.

“Like I said before, you don’t have to do anything f’you don’t want to.” He reminded her and she nodded.

“I know. I want to, I just…might be rusty.” She huffed through a small chuckle and he leaned in and kissed her slowly. Her mind just blanked as she got lost in the way that their lips moved together, almost like a dance. He was leading the kiss and she was following until she just needed more. She sucked at his bottom lip before peeking her tongue into his mouth and he took the hint and deepened the kiss. They were breathing hard now and her hand sunk back down and slipped under his open trousers to feel him over his underwear. She couldn’t help it as her mouth watered upon feeling the outline of his erection straining the fabric over it. Her fingers came back up to the band of the briefs and ran over it a few times, building up the courage to get underneath it. She appreciated that Harry wasn’t rushing her to do anything despite his evident desperation for her. He then parted his lips from her and smiled at her. “What is it?” She asked at the smirk adorning his lips.

“You’re definitely not rusty.” He assured, “Teasing the way you are is a pro move.” He sniggered and she bit her bottom lip for a moment.

“I have a confession to make.”

“Go on.”

“It’s not deliberate, I’m just stalling.” She admitted through a giggle and he chuckled as he kissed her cheek.

“Well it definitely doesn’t come across like that.” He said with a smile.

“Well good.” She sighed through a giggle. And her smile dropped as she bit her lip again and glanced down to watch as her hand gently pulled the band of his briefs away from his body, “So you like being teased?” She asked quietly before glancing up into his eyes. Harry nodded in confirmation because he couldn’t trust his voice at the moment. Not with her fingers toying with the band of his briefs and with her big, beautiful eyes peering into his own. He had been craving her for ages and here they were, on the brink of having just a little bit more with each other, it was too exhilarating, “Why?” She asked and he chuckled.

“Ummm, it’s exciting I guess. To not know when to expect something. The building of the tension…fighting to keep your composure…edging…” he said and she hummed in understanding as she glanced down between them and then back into his eyes, “I mean, patience is a virtue I’ve been blessed with.” He smiled smugly and she grinned.

“Hmmm, can’t say the same for me.” She admitted, “I hate to be kept waiting.” She said with a smile.

“We’ll see about that.” He hummed as he placed his hands on her thighs and she smirked as she finally dipped her hand into his briefs and tugged them low enough that his penis was freed up and fell into the minimal space between them. She licked over her lips with lust, watching it bob up and down a few times with the weight of it. It was really pretty, she couldn’t deny it. It was uncut, long and thick, his tip was a dark pink and everything inside of her was begging her to lick and suck at it until his arousal was pooling steadily into her mouth. She had to touch him and so she quickly wrapped her hand around his shaft and gave him a gentle squeeze. Harry sighed in relief and she smiled lightly as she looked back at his face only to find that he was already looking at her. Despite the hungry look in his eyes, he remained calm and like he had said, patient. So patient, so good, so determined to not pressure her or push her into continuing on if she changed her mind and in the end that’s exactly why she continued. She tightened her grip around him a little more and dragged her hand up and he squeezed her thighs just a bit in return, “S’that alright?” She asked and he nodded.

“Yeah, feels good.” He said lowly and she dragged her fist back down. Harry swallowed thickly as she started to set her pace. He was just about to ask her to mind his tip when she started to circle over it with her thumb and he moaned lowly as his eyes squeezed shut at the new and delicious sensation, “That’s…that’s so good.” He hummed and she bit her lip, not sure whether to watch his face contorting in pleasure and satisfaction, or to just stare at his beautiful penis. She decided to put her saliva to good use and pulled her hand away to spit onto her palm and then wrap it back around his cock. He groaned as the slickness made her strokes glide with even more ease and in her excitement she started going a little faster and his body tensed up, “Fuck, just like that, baby.” He chuckled breathily as his head dropped back and his fingers dug into her thighs.

Harry’s heart was pounding in his chest as he fought to just keep it down. He had only been dreaming of this moment for months now and it was finally coming true. His breathing was labored as he grunted quietly with each stroke of Diana’s fist over his cock. He was so fucking hard that he just felt this immense pressure in his lower stomach. His fingers were gripping hard at her thighs, just needing to hold on to something so that he didn’t feel like he was withering away every time her fist dragged over his sensitive and leaking tip. The build up was incredible, he could feel his knees buckling the closer and closer he got to his orgasm. His breathing was hitching in his throat and he’d bite down hard on his lip to keep his sounds to a minimum because the pleasure had him reeling, he’d been waiting for this with her for so long and it was superseding his expectations.

“Oh fuck, baby!” He moaned as she tightened her fist a bit more and started stroking faster, building him up for his finish, “Y-you’re gonna make me come.” He panted as he spared a glance down to his cock in her fist, watching it moving up and down quickly, “I’m so close!” He grunted and she smiled at him and it was making him melt.

“Yeah, baby?” She asked and his entire body jolted when he heard her call him that. He swore that his heart exploded just from hearing her call him a term of endearment and that was his undoing. He could feel his entire body tingling and he forced himself to remove his hands from her thighs and instead gripped the desk as his abs started to clench and his lungs to tighten without his permission. He felt like time froze for a few seconds as the pleasure peaked and his jaw slacked as he panted hard, trying to keep himself quiet as he felt the thick, milky streams of his sperm started to shoot out of his tip. He thrust into her hand as she kept going, keeping her pace to get him through the entirety of his orgasm and as his thrusting slowed and his breathing shuddered she slowly came to a stop, not releasing him just yet, but definitely loosening her grip around him. Despite his orgasm, his cock hadn’t softened yet. She could feel him throbbing in her hand, that big vein on the underside pulsed in perfect time with his rapid heart beat, “You’re still so hard. Got a little more for me?” She asked as she glanced up to him and he blinked his eyes open and nodded.

“Go slow.” He whispered and she nodded as she started stroking him a bit again, “Fuck yeah.” He hummed as he watched intently this time as she milked the last bit out of him. Definitely not as much as the first one, but there was just a little more he needed to get out of his system. These last couple streams just oozed out of his tip and down her fist and with a brain still foggy with pleasure he grabbed her face and kissed her hungrily. His tongue invaded her mouth and slid against her own as her soft moan poured into his mouth. Moments later they parted and he rested his forehead against hers, “Fuck, that was incredible, thank you, baby.” He said through his ragged breathing and she nuzzled her nose against his before kissing his lips quickly.

“No problem.” She sniggered and he smiled.

“Your turn?” He asked suggestively as he kissed her cheek.

“Maybe another time, I need to get home.” She huffed and he pulled back and pouted.

“I feel like a total ass now. I knew I should’ve insisted on ladies first.” He said and she shook her head.

“No, no, no, it’s alright. To be quite honest this was…a lot. I wasn’t expecting to do that. And I don’t regret it, at all!” She clarified, “But I’m just not…ready for that… w-with you…I think.” She explained nervously. Not really sure how he would react, but he just nodded.

“That’s alright. You don’t need to justify it to me.” He said and she frowned.

“I think I do.” She said and went to reach for his face but then saw that she was still covered in his cum, “Oh, ummm-”

“Hang on.” Harry said and then reached behind her and pulled a couple of tissues from the box she had on her desk and cleaned her of his mess, “There.” He said softly before balling up the tissues and tossing them in the garbage can right beside her desk.

“Thanks. Ummm…” she started and sighed, “It’s not that I don’t want to do this with you, believe me I do! I’ve gotten off to the thought of doing plenty of things with you a few times already…and fuck, that’s…TMI.” She shook her head, the nerves were getting the best of her, and he grinned at her confession but he stayed quiet and let her finish, “I’m just…afraid of what that’ll mean for me.” She explained, “Like I…” she sighed and swallowed thickly, expressing her feelings was so hard for her but she needed to do it now, she owed it to him, “I like you, Harry. I like you a lot and I just think that…if we’re not careful I could see myself really falling for you and-”

“OK, would that really be such a bad thing?” He asked.

“Yes! It would be right now, at least.” She said to him.

“I think you’re just scared.”

“Of course I am! I just told you I’m afraid of this! Of us! Of what I feel!” She groaned, “I’m not ready.” She shook her head, “I’m not ready to add more complications to what we already have going on! If I sleep with you it’ll change everything!”

“We’re not gonna have sex. We don’t have to for as long as you don’t want.”

“I’ll cave! I’ll cave because it’s you! I mean…fuck!” She groaned in frustration.

“Di, look at me.” He said softly as her eyes met his, “I care about you. I only want you. You’re all I think about day in and day out. I’m starting to fall for you, even with the limited access I have to your life! I want this. I want you.” He said to her earnestly.

“Well it’s not just me, Harry.” She said softly, “I have my daughter to think about as well. My happiness is her happiness and vise versa.”

“You know that I care about Celeste, love.”

“Being a father is far more complex than just caring about someone, Harry. And you’ve told me before that you never wanted kids!” She reminded and he sighed.

“It’s a little more complicated than that for me, but even still! People change their minds all the time!”

“I don’t want you to just change your mind just to get me in exchange, Harry. What if you change your mind about this again? What if I let you in and you wake up one day and realize that you never wanted that?” She asked and he shrugged.

“I’d never commit to you without considering all of that seriously first, Diana. And well, you just need to trust me.” He said simply and she sighed and shook her head.

“I need to go.” She said instead and pushed him back a bit so that she could get back on her feet and he just moved aside and did his pants back up. He felt his heart aching more and more by the second as she just turned around to face away from him and he frowned as she started to cry.

“Di, baby.” He said softly as he reached for her arm and she flinched away from him, “Don’t do this.” He pleaded quietly. His heart broke as she started to sob. He felt beyond shitty now, but she insisted that it had been fine, that she wanted to take this step with him. Maybe he should’ve tried harder to dissuade her? Sure, she was saying that she didn’t regret it but she was crying about it and that certainly wasn’t because she was happy about what they had done. He rolled his lips together for a moment, but before he could even continue beating himself up over this he nipped that in the bud with a curt, but painful sentence, “I knew I shouldn’t have come here.” He said lowly, but not low enough to spare her from his words. They cut deep and made her let out another sob, “Ummm…tell your brother to have a good flight for me.” He said before grabbing his things. She turned around now, sniffling.

“Harry…” she whimpered.

“I can’t keep doing this with you!” He said with frustration, “It’s not fair! I understand that you’re hurt and that you’re scared but you can’t keep hiding behind your tragedies, Diana!” he expressed, “I mean, it’s been 15 years, Di. Don’t you ever get tired of making the same excuses?” He asked her with a frown, “You self-sabotage better than anyone I’ve ever known! And at this point you’re actively choosing to not move on from the past. You’re choosing this for yourself.” He said with pity and she hiccuped on her sob, “And quite frankly I…I don’t need this.” He said to her and headed out. The loud bang of her office door closing behind him made her flinch. Moments later the door swung open again, “And don’t you dare bookmark this moment as an example of how people always abandon you or that you’ve always been alone because I have tried. I have tried for months!” He pointed at her before leaving again and right before she could even make her next move he came back through the door again, “And I don’t know why I feel like the biggest asshole when you’re the one who insisted on getting me off! I have feelings too! I’m not an experiment for you to figure out what the fuck you want or what you are and aren’t ready for!” He scolded.

“I know you’re not, Harry.” She said quietly

“Well that’s what you’re making me feel like! I feel used. You…you push me away and then pull me back in and give me hope that we can work things out and then you push me away again until something happens and I’m just stupidly available for you! Taking any crumb of attention you’re willing to spare me. I know you’re in a tough spot, but if you don’t see this going anywhere just say it.” He said and she frowned.

“I’m sorry, Harry. I assure you I never meant to make you feel that way.” She apologized and he sighed.

“I know…I know that, but that’s what you’re doing.” He said to her sadly and her heart broke seeing the pain in his eyes, “Maybe I am the asshole for pursuing you when I knew how you felt about this from the start.” He concluded sadly.

“You’re not an asshole, Harry.” She said coming up to him and taking his hands in hers and her frown deepened when he pulled them out of her grasp.

“I stand by what I said before I can’t do this anymore.” He said looking into her eyes as she started to cry again, “Just…figure your shit out, Diana.” He said with disappointment before heading out and after a few more moments he didn’t return.

Diana groaned in frustration as more tears fell and after a few more minutes of that she started to clean up. She put all of their now empty food containers in the bag they’d arrived in and set them by the trash can; she put her decor back where they went and then grabbed her things to head out. When she opened her office door to leave she saw Harry standing right across the hall with his phone in his hand and he glanced up at her.

“Didn’t want you to walk alone at this hour.” He said quietly. Diana just pulled her door shut, hearing it click to indicate it had locked.

“Thank you.” She said and he nodded as they started to head down the hall in silence. When they got in the elevator they stood across from each other, he glanced back at his phone and she just stayed looking at him and as she glanced down his body she rolled her lips together to suppress the giggle that wanted to leave her mouth despite the clear tension brewing between them, “Ummm, you’ve got ummm…cum on your pant leg.” She said and he glanced up to her.

“Well so do you.” He said and she glanced down at herself and saw that she was indeed stained as well.

“Oh…thanks.” She responded and then glanced up at him again, “N-not for the cum stain! F-for telling me about it.” She clarified and his eyes met her’s again and he shook his head as he fought a smile, “What?”

“Well duh, goes without saying that you were thanking me for telling you and not for…Jesus.” He said and she started to giggle and he shook his head. “Stop that! I’m still mad at you.” He said as he fought his hardest to keep a straight face.

“You can still be mad at me and laugh at my scrambled up brain.” She said and he shook his head.

“You’re something else…” he chuckled lowly and she smiled, she’d accept that over him shouting all her truths to her face. 

The doors finally slid open and they started making their way to the parking structure closest to her building. She was definitely angry at him for losing his patience and shouting at her, but she wasn’t going to fight him on it because he was totally right about everything he’d said. Maybe in a couple of days once he’d cooled off she’d be able to tell him that she didn’t love the way he spoke to her and that maybe in the future he could vocalize his concerns earlier on instead of letting everything build up this way? But as that thought materialized in her head she recognized that trying to “avoid” her feelings for him was futile because well, they already existed despite how cautious she thought she was being. It was pointless to try and shut someone out who had already been let in. Even without her realizing it, his charming, helpful, and loving nature had softened her up enough that he’d unknowingly made a home for himself in her heart and she didn’t want that space to be empty. She loved him. There was no question about it.

“Hey, what is it? Did you forget something?” Harry asked because she had stopped walking and she soon shook her head as she looked at him.

“Ummm, no, it’s fine. I’m…I’m fine.” She assured and he looked at her skeptically for a moment before she nodded again in reassurance and they kept walking. She obviously wanted to tell him but it would feel a tad manipulative to say it to him right after the argument they had. Like she’d say anything to not lose him and continue using him, she didn’t want him to even think that was an option. Of course she wasn’t using him, she could never, but it made her so sad to know that he felt like that. Like he was just a person she called on for convenience. And well, if he was done, she had no idea what she would do, but she certainly didn’t want to hurt him anymore. She was mulling the thoughts in her head until they got into the structure.

“What floor are you on?”

“Second.” She said.

“Do you want to take the stairs?”

“I don’t care, I just…I need you to know that I’m not using you, I never have.” She explained to him, “I hate to think that I make you feel that way about us. And yeah, I admit that I do call for you when things get tough but because you…you make me feel safe and looked after and you always know what to say to make me feel better and I…I need you.” She said and his eyes softened, “I want you around. I enjoy being with you and around you and I don’t ever want you to feel like anything we’ve shared together has been some scheme to just keep you close by until things get better.” She sighed.

“I’m not great at expressing my feelings or even knowing what to do with them, like I’ve grown up with such cold and callous people and the only time I ever let myself fall in love was with Wes and look how that ended!” She expressed with frustration, “You’re right, I choose to be alone. But it’s not because I enjoy it or want to be alone, it just works for me! It always has! I’m just fine all alone! I always had been until…until you.” She confessed as she met his gaze, “It scares me to know that everything I know about how to live and carry myself would potentially change. Like I’ve been this way since I was 19, Harry! That’s a really long time…15 years.” She said to him and he nodded, “I think that more than getting hurt, I fear hurting you.” She explained, “And I feel like shit knowing I already did. And you’ve been wonderful and so patient with me and I know that I’ve pushed the bar way too fucking much. So I…understand why you’re done with this. W-with me.” She said as her eyes welled up and he frowned, “I don’t want to string you along, Harry. You don’t deserve this so I respect your decision.” She said and swallowed thickly.

“You respect my decision?” He asked her and she nodded, “Diana…that’s the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.” He said to her and she frowned, “We both have a say in this. If you agree that whatever this was has run it’s course, fine. But don’t just agree with me if that’s not what you want!” He said to her and she sighed.

“Well you’re clearly done and upset with me, why would I try and change your mind?” She asked.

“Because! It’s what people do when they…care about each other! They fight for each other. They try and work things out!” He responded, completely exasperated.

“Well, I’ve never had to do that before so…now I know.” She said and he shook his head as he fought off a smile, “What?”

“Nothing I just…forget that it’s been a while for you.” He said and she chuckled through her tears.

“More than a while, I’d say…” she responded and he hummed in agreement with a smile.

“I’m sorry I blew up on you that was wrong of me.” He apologized, he was always so good about that, it was one of her favorite things about him.

“I accept your apology, but I understand why you exploded like that. And you know, I’d like to think that I’m a pretty receptive and approachable person about this kind of stuff. So maybe in the future you can just tell me as things come up and not let it build up to that point, you know?” She said and he smiled.

“In the future, huh?” He asked and she felt her cheeks heat with a blush as she nodded.

“Yeah, in the future.” She repeated, “That is of course i-if you still want to be in my life in the future. Because I’d really like you to be.” She clarified softly and he reached for her hand and the amount of relief she felt surge through her body was epic and she just batted him aside  and hugged him instead and he chuckled as he hugged her back.

“Of course I want to be in your life.” He said softly as he rocked them back and forth a bit. 

“Good. I’m so sorry for making you feel less important than you are to me.” She apologized yet again.

“I guess I forgive you.” He hummed and she scoffed playfully which made him smile.

“Ummm, Harry?” 

“Yeah, love?”

“Would you want to go on a date with me?” She asked as she pulled back to meet his gaze.

“I’d love to.” He responded immediately with a big grin.

“Perfect! I’ll plan something and run it by you.” She said with a meek smile.

“Perfect.” He agreed. He couldn’t stop smiling because yes, it had been hard, but what he felt for her was well worth the challenges. He couldn’t lie to himself about his feelings, they were more “love” than just “like” by now and well, he knew that was big. So he wouldn’t spring that on her just yet, but he couldn’t wait for the day where he’d finally be able to just say it to her. Just tell her that he loves her.

-

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[softonstyles]

Part Three

(Part Two)

Word Count: 2.4K

Aurora had lost track of time, tucked away in her room for what must have been three, maybe four hours. It wasn’t her proudest moment, but after the mortifying interaction she had earlier, creating distance (no matter how insignificant) seemed like the only practical solution. She threw herself into unpacking (her least favorite task) and, for a while, even made good progress.

Until her thoughts drifted back to him.

To their first encounter at the coffee shop. The way he leaned in to hand her the pastry bag. The shift in his eyes when she called him Mr. Styles.

And just like that, Aurora was distracted; absentmindedly tucking books into her clothing drawer, completely losing track of what she was supposed to be doing.

Mr. Styles.

As in Charlotte Styles’, her good friend’s father.

She groaned and set a book (this time on a shelf, where it belonged) with an unintentional thud. It wasn’t just mortifying — it was wrong. She owed it to Charlotte to bury her nefarious thoughts six feet under. 

Whatever had passed between her and Harry at the coffee shop, if anything at all, meant nothing. It was just a fluke. A misfire of neurons.

Her frown deepened as she stepped back to observe the shelf. The books were haphazardly arranged, disregarding her preferred order of genre first, last name second. With a sharp exhale, she pulled them all down and started over.

By the time she finished, her stomach growled in protest. In her unusual state of distress, she had forgotten to eat lunch. Hiding away like this suddenly felt melodramatic, even for her. Enough was enough.

Aurora reached for the door handle, opened it. . . and walked straight into a solid chest. She barely had time to stumble back before a pair of strong hands reached out and steadied her.

“Aurora, hey — sorry about that,” Harry said, his voice gentle with concern. “You okay?”

“Uh, yeah,” she managed, blinking up at him. “Totally fine, no worries.”

Harry gave her a once-over, checking for any sign of injury, then smiled when he saw she was unharmed. Aurora found it difficult to ignore the way his hands remained on her, Harry’s touch a quiet current beneath her skin. 

“Guess that’s two for two today, huh?”

Her stomach flipped. He’s talking about the coffee shop. He’s going to bring it up and —

“First your record player, now you.” His grin widened, dimples on full display. “Starting to think I can’t help but orbit around you today.” 

He chuckled, and Aurora felt the corners of her lips twitch, too. It wasn’t just his words — it was the effortless way he delivered them, as if charm came as naturally to him as breathing.

Harry’s hands lingered a moment longer before he finally let go, stepping past her toward the record player in the corner. “Nice collection you’ve got here,” he mused, flipping through the vinyls. “Knew you had good taste when I walked in and heard Stevie. Mind if I take a look?”

Not at all. Take whatever you want — me included.

“Go ahead,” she said instead, keeping her voice steady. “And thanks. Are you into Fleetwood Mac?”

He glanced up, eyes glinting. “I’m into all kinds of things.”

Her breath hitched. A slow warmth crept up her neck, thoughts drifting precisely where she promised herself they wouldn’t, couldn’t go.

Harry, oblivious or simply unbothered, paused on a record. “Is this Californiacation?” He flipped it over, a nostalgic smile tugging at his lips. “This came out my freshman year of high school. Blew it out on cassette all four years.”

Aurora pressed her lips together. Californiacation was one of her favorite albums, and she knew it was released in 1999. 

Do not calculate his age. Do not.

“It’s a classic,” she answered lightly. “Can’t blame you.”

“No, you can’t.” He met her eyes, that teasing, familiar grin softening his features. “Really takes me back.”

Aurora swallowed, forcing herself to break eye contact. “So, uh,” she began, desperate for a shift in focus. “Where’s Charlotte?”

Harry leaned against the wall, crossing his arms with an amused smirk. “Sleeping. Apparently, watching me build her furniture is exhausting work.”

She laughed.

Classic Char.

Aurora could picture it now: Charlotte hovering nearby, doling out unsolicited instructions, more of a distraction than a helper. Later, she’d send him a perfectly crafted thank-you message — sincere, thoughtful, and utterly convinced she’d been supportive.

“Well, lucky her,” Aurora said, the words slipping out before she could stop them. “I wish I had you helping me build my stuff, too.”

Harry straightened, his eyebrows rising. “Do you need help with something?”

“Oh, no,” Aurora said quickly, embarrassment flashing across her face. “I didn’t mean —”

“Aurora.” His voice was calm but insistent. “If you need help, just ask. That’s what I’m here for.”

There was something in the way Harry spoke — steady, unwavering — like he was someone who kept every promise.

And maybe even every threat.

“Well. . .” Aurora hesitated, glancing toward the box by the TV. “There is one thing.”

————— ୨୧ —————

An hour later, the dimly lit living room hummed with quiet laughter and the soft scrape of furniture parts against the floor. Aurora sat cross-legged on the couch, carefully assembling a drawer, while Harry stretched out on the hardwood, smoothly working on the base of her desk.

Despite the easy rhythm of their conversation, Aurora felt Monday looming at the edges of her thoughts. She was here, physically engaged in the task at hand, yet Aurora’s mind drifted — deeper and deeper — until she could no longer ignore the familiar weight pressing down on her.

Imposter syndrome had always been a quiet but persistent shadow, trailing her through every important milestone. Every moment of success felt borrowed, as if it belonged to someone else and not her. That relentless inner voice dissected her past with surgical precision, magnifying even the smallest mistakes into towering failures.

She thought of her childhood – of constant moves that uprooted Aurora’s life every few years, friendships left half-formed, relationships fragile. School had been her anchor, the one steady thing in an otherwise uncertain world. But the armor she built from academic success was heavy, and somewhere along the way, her self-worth became inextricably tied to achievement.

“Hey,” Harry’s voice broke through the spiral, soft and curious. “Where’d you go just now?”

Aurora blinked, startled back to the present. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I’ve been here, building this drawer.” She held it up as proof, her smile almost defensive. “See?”

Harry gave her a knowing look, his expression warm yet unwavering. “You were somewhere else. I saw it in your eyes.”

Aurora froze, caught off guard by his attentiveness. She hadn’t realized he’d been watching her so closely.

When she didn’t respond, he didn’t press. Instead, Harry shifted gears easily, allowing the moment to dissolve into something lighter. “Well, wherever you went, I hope it was less stressful than this IKEA nightmare.”

She let out a laugh, grateful for the change in topic. “Let’s just say this is the lesser of two evils.”

He tilted his head, studying her for a beat, his expression unreadable. Then he simply said, “I mean, I can see why you put this off. Tackling it alone would’ve been brutal.”

“Oh, definitely,” Aurora rolled her eyes. “I even thought about assembling it at my parents’ house and cramming it into my trunk, but there wasn’t enough room with all my other stuff.”

Harry nodded, focusing on attaching a leg to the desk’s base. “And where exactly is home for you?”

“New Mexico,” she replied, then hesitated. “Well, kind of.”

“Kind of?” He echoed, and if Aurora hadn’t been looking at him, she would have missed the way his nose scrunched in thought. It was so. . . cute, she couldn’t help but smile. Maybe that was why she found it easy to keep going.

“My dad was in the military. We moved every two or three years, depending on where he was stationed — mostly all over the West. He was discharged four years ago, and my family moved to New Mexico. I’m pretty sure it’s the longest we’ve ever stayed anywhere.”

“I see.” Harry paused to look at her fully, his expression thoughtful. “That must have been tough on you.”

Aurora shrugged, absently fiddling with a screw. “It was fine, I guess.”

When she didn’t elaborate, Harry raised his eyebrows slightly, encouraging her to continue.

“I mean, it wasn’t terrible,” she admitted. “Frustrating, sure. Always being the new kid, feeling like the odd one out. But it wasn’t unbearable. Some people have it a lot worse.”

She hesitated, gauging his reaction. The conversation had drifted somewhere heavier, somewhere she wasn’t sure she wanted to go. But Harry seemed invested, like he truly cared about what she had to say.

Aurora wanted to feel his lightness again.

So, with a teasing smile, she added, “Although, it might’ve left me with a deep, abiding hatred of moving.”

He smiled, too. “It’s important to have stability while growing up. At any time, really, but especially as a child. Having a place to call home, roots to grow into. Sounds like you didn’t really get that chance.”

Aurora glanced down at the drawer in her hands, fingers slowing. No one had ever put it quite like that before.

“I guess not,” she murmured. “But you adapt, you know? You figure out how to make it work.”

“Of course,” Harry replied, his tone measured. “And you seem to be doing just fine at that. More than fine, really. Kids are resilient, but that doesn’t make certain things easy. Or fair.”

The weight of his words settled over them, and for the first time that evening, she was reminded of the years between them. There was something in Harry’s tone, something that carried experience — an understanding born from time and reflection.

Still, Harry didn’t let the mood press too hard. With a soft grin, he concluded, “And don’t worry, you’re not the odd one out. Moving’s awful for everyone.”

Aurora grinned in response, about to reply, when Charlotte’s tired “Hey, guys” interrupted the moment.

She turned and found Charlotte mid-yawn, rubbing her eyes. Upon making eye contact with them, Charlotte smiled and waved, as though her prolonged absence were perfectly normal. “Whatcha guys up to?”

“Oh, hey, sleepyhead,” Aurora  teased, gently poking her as Charlotte approached for a hug. She always found Charlotte’s affectionate nature to be sweet, instantly absolving her from any wrongdoings. 

“How did you sleep, darling?” Harry asked, his tone light.

“Just perfectly!” Charlotte declared, settling beside Aurora on the couch. “With my dad and Biggie here, how could I not?”

“Biggie?” Harry raised an eyebrow, glancing at Aurora for clarification.

She mouthed don’t ask, then turned to Charlotte. “Are those your pajamas?”

“Sure are.” Charlotte stretched out, casually draping her legs over Aurora’s lap.

Aurora shook her head, amused. “You look ready to go back to bed.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Charlotte quipped.

“You’ve been a tremendous help today, Char,” Harry said dryly, setting down his tools before rising from his position on the floor.

“Hey, to be fair, it’s that time of the month, and I’m very anemic. You can’t blame me for being  a sleepy girl.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, darling. Do you need me to pick up anything before I leave?”

Charlotte, now comfortably settled on the couch in her satin pink pajamas, waved him off. “Thanks, dad, but I should be fine. Plus, Aurora’s always been the mom of the group, so I’m sure whatever I might need, she has me covered.” She gave her a pointed look, which Aurora returned with a knowing nod.

“This is true,” Aurora confirmed.

Harry chuckled. “Right. Anyway, I’ve finished assembling the base and legs, so connecting the finishing pieces tomorrow should be easy enough.”

“Sounds great. Need anything for the road, Mr. Styles?” Aurora asked, carefully moving Charlotte’s legs off her lap.

“No, but maybe you can show me to the door, since my lovely daughter looks ready to pass out again.”

They both glanced at Charlotte, who had already closed her eyes and murmured a faint, “Bye, see you later,” in response.

Classic Char.

Aurora shook her head before leading Harry to the door. As he retrieved his shoes and wallet, an unexpected pang of reluctance tightened in her chest. Aurora had enjoyed his company more than she anticipated and found herself wishing he could stay longer.

“Thank you for all your help today, Mr. Styles,” Aurora said, her voice sincere. “And, no worries about the desk — I should be able to take it from here.”

Harry raised a hand, gently dismissing her offer. “Ah, please. It was no problem. I’ll take care of the rest tomorrow.” He met her gaze, his expression warm. “Besides, I should be the one thanking you. This is Charlotte’s first time truly living on her own, and I won’t lie, I was nervous. For reasons I’m sure you can understand.”

They both shared a knowing laugh.

“But, knowing she has you around puts me at ease,” he added softly.

Her smile widened. “She’s in good hands, I promise.”

“I know she is,” Harry replied, his voice full of quiet certainty.

They stood there for a moment, enjoying a comfortable silence. Neither of them made a move to part ways just yet.

Seeking to prolong the moment, Aurora asked, “Are you driving all the way back home now? It’s about an hour and a half away, right?”

“It is, but I won’t be heading back tonight,” Harry answered. “With it being the tailend of rush hour, traffic would be a nightmare. I’ve booked a hotel about ten minutes away for the weekend, so I’ll be here nice and early tomorrow.”

Aurora nodded. “I have a feeling your definition of ‘bright and early’ differs significantly from Charlotte’s.”

Harry smiled. “I assure you, she didn’t inherit that trait from me.”

The look on his face turned distant for a moment, a small flicker of something bittersweet crossing Harry’s features. It passed quickly, and he refocused on Aurora. “It was truly a pleasure meeting you today, Aurora.”

“Likewise, Mr. Styles,” she replied softly.

They stood there, eyes locked, an unspoken understanding passing between them. The seconds stretched, but the silence was far from uncomfortable; it hummed with muted possibilities — possibilities neither of them could ever act upon.

After a final moment, Harry cleared his throat, a strong (and soft) hand moving toward the doorknob.

“Enjoy the rest of your evening,” he said, his voice a soft farewell.

With one last glance, he stepped out into the hallway. As the door closed behind him, Aurora leaned against it, sighing.

Aurora knew that if she thought of him, she most certainly would.

Part Four

————— ୨୧ —————

Tag List: @fangirl509east @saraxoxo12567 @kyle-xian @mellamolayla @gem1712

[he4dlin3]

Part Five.

Louis Tomlinson x Fem!Oc

"The discipline of desire is the background of character" — John Locke

Material List | series material list

Word Count ; 8.4k (😯)

════════════════════════════════════════

2013

    The city was quiet that evening. A faint chill lingered in the air, remnants of a summer that had already begun to slip into the cool embrace of autumn. The rehearsals had run late, and Tatum could feel the exhaustion setting in, the kind that gnaws at the edges of your thoughts and refuses to be ignored. She'd been working on her set, tweaking lyrics, adjusting melodies, and trying to maintain a certain level of professionalism around people she was less than thrilled to be around.

Louis Tomlinson was in the studio again.

And just like every other time they'd been forced into close proximity, it was like a spark waiting to ignite. She couldn't quite place it—why he bothered her so much, or why it felt like every moment around him was like walking on thin ice. He was never far from her thoughts, never far from the latest headline, and yet, every glance, every word exchanged only seemed to push her closer to the edge of something she wasn't quite ready to face.

After all, she was an enigma in her own right—a woman who'd spent too many years building walls that couldn't possibly be torn down by a man like him. No, she refused to be part of whatever twisted game he was playing.

But what if she was already caught in it? What if he'd gotten under her skin, just like he claimed?

It had started with their meeting at the after-party, that damn after-party where everything seemed to go wrong. The air had been thick with alcohol, tension, and the weight of their shared history. They'd barely spoken at all, and yet, the world seemed to know everything they hadn't said. The cameras, the whispers, the subtle undercurrents of something simmering between them. It wasn't just the public that noticed; even her colleagues could feel it.

It wasn't just the tabloids either. Tatum could see it in the way people looked at her now, the side-eye glances that weren't subtle enough to miss. The curiosity was palpable, the unsaid words heavier than any of the conversations she'd ever had.

Louis Tomlinson had a way of dragging her into the spotlight, without even trying. And that irritated her.

The next morning, she was already on edge when she arrived at the rehearsal space. The others were all milling about, getting ready for a long session ahead, but Tatum felt that gnawing sense of discomfort crawling up her spine. When the door opened with a creak, her pulse quickened.

And there he was.

Louis, leaning casually against the doorframe, arms folded, a half-smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He looked entirely too comfortable for someone who had just made her life infinitely more complicated.

"You're early," he said, his voice annoyingly calm, his eyes assessing her every movement.

"Early means prepared," she shot back, not bothering to hide the bite in her tone.

Louis didn't flinch. "Always so serious," he mused, his smirk widening. "You know, it's just a rehearsal. No need to look like the world's about to end."

The audacity of him made her jaw clench. She refused to engage in another round of their petty back-and-forth, but he was relentless. Always had been.

Tatum adjusted the strap of her guitar and began setting up in silence, deliberately not giving him the satisfaction of a response. The tension in the room thickened, hanging in the air like an unspoken dare.

Louis had no problem filling the silence. "You know, I've been thinking," he began, moving closer, his tone almost casual, though there was something more dangerous in it. "You're putting up a good front. But it's just a front."

Tatum's head snapped up, her gaze locking with his, cold and unyielding. "And what makes you so sure of that?"

His eyes glimmered with something unreadable. "Because, Tatum, no one who really believes they're in control has to keep proving it to everyone around them."

The words struck her with unexpected force, reverberating through her mind and piercing the armor she had meticulously constructed over the years. A familiar tightness gripped her chest, and she felt the sting of unshed tears threatening to surface. Her hands, clenched into fists at her sides, betrayed the internal battle she waged to maintain her composure.

The room seemed to close in around her, the air thick with tension, as the weight of his statement settled heavily upon her shoulders. She swallowed hard, the motion deliberate and controlled, determined not to grant him the satisfaction of witnessing her vulnerability. Drawing upon every ounce of her resolve, she steadied her breathing, lifted her chin slightly, and fixed her gaze ahead, refusing to let her facade crumble.

"Is that what you think?" she asked, voice low but laced with a sharp edge.

Louis shrugged, his hands slipping into his pockets. "Maybe. Maybe I just think you're afraid."

A sudden, involuntary gasp escaped her lips, her breath catching in her throat as a surge of fear washed over her. The questions raced through her mind in rapid succession: Was she afraid of him? Of the unpredictable and treacherous situation they found themselves trapped in?

Her pulse quickened, each heartbeat echoing the uncertainty and dread that threatened to overwhelm her. The room seemed to grow colder, shadows lengthening as her apprehension deepened. She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms, as she grappled with the unsettling realization of her own vulnerability.

"Afraid of what?" she countered, trying to mask the unease she felt clawing at her chest.

Louis leaned in slightly, closing the distance between them until he was standing too close for comfort. "Afraid of getting too close, Tatum. Afraid that I might actually get under your skin." He paused, his voice almost a whisper. "Afraid that, when it really comes down to it, you might just need me."

Tatum felt her heart race, felt that terrifying vulnerability crack wide open. She was not going to let him see that.

Before she could respond, the door to the studio opened, and the rest of the band filed in, effectively cutting the tension before it could get any worse.

࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎

The rehearsal was a blur. Tatum's mind kept drifting back to his words, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake the feeling that he was right. She was running, running from the possibility of letting someone get close, someone like Louis, someone who might just tear through the walls she'd worked so hard to build.

But she couldn't. Not yet. Not when everything else felt like it was falling apart.

Every glance towards Louis had her pulse quicken, his presence like an electric current in the air, charging everything with a heat that was impossible to ignore. She could feel his eyes on her even when they weren't in the same frame. She could feel him studying her, reading her every move. And it wasn't just the rehearsals that had her uneasy; it was the feeling of being watched, of being understood in ways she wasn't ready for.

At lunch, they all sat together in the break room. Tatum had tried to keep her distance, but Louis wasn't having any of it. He slid into the seat next to her without asking, the weight of his presence too much to ignore.

"Why do you always try so hard?" Louis asked, eyes glinting as he leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. "You could just be normal for once."

Tatum rolled her eyes, her fork clinking against her plate as she pushed her food around. "Normal is boring."

Louis chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Maybe you're scared of normal."

She whipped her head toward him, fury igniting inside her. "You don't know anything about me, Louis."

His gaze softened for just a moment, but it was enough to make Tatum question everything she thought she knew about him. He wasn't just playing a game anymore. He was in it.

"I know more than you think," Louis replied, his tone uncharacteristically sincere. "I've seen people like you. People who hide behind walls, because letting someone in means giving up control. And you won't do that, will you?"

Her body went rigid, her breath hitching as an unwelcome tightness constricted her chest. A surge of frustration coursed through her veins, ignited by the realization of how deeply he perceived her inner workings. His uncanny ability to penetrate the layers of her meticulously crafted facade left her feeling unsettlingly transparent. The vulnerability that accompanied this exposure was a sensation she despised, stirring a tempest of emotions she struggled to suppress.

Her mind raced, grappling with the discomfort of being so thoroughly understood, and the fear of what he might uncover next.

Later that evening, after another grueling session, Tatum was packing her things in the studio when Louis appeared in the doorway again, standing with that familiar, smug look on his face.

"I'm not done with you yet," he said, his voice low and steady.

Tatum didn't turn to face him immediately, but she felt him moving closer, could feel his gaze on her like it was branding her skin.

"What do you want now?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, the weariness in it making her sound more vulnerable than she'd intended.

Louis stopped just behind her, close enough for her to feel the heat of his presence radiating against her back. "I want you to stop running," he said, his voice quieter this time, almost like a plea, though it was laced with a challenge she couldn't ignore.

Tatum's fingers tightened around her bag strap as she turned to face him. "I'm not running," she said, more forcefully this time, but even she could hear the uncertainty in her words.

Louis smiled softly, the kind of smile that made something stir in the pit of her stomach. "You're not running?" he asked, his voice dropping lower. "Then why are you so damn afraid of me?"

For a moment, neither of them said anything. The air was thick with unsaid words, raw emotion that neither was ready to confront. But that wasn't going to stop Louis from pressing further.

"I'm not afraid of you," Tatum lied, her voice trembling ever so slightly.

Louis' gaze softened, but his words came out like a gentle punch to the gut. "Then why can't you just let go, Tatum?"

Her breath caught in her throat, and for the briefest moment, she allowed herself to meet his eyes. What if he was right?

But she couldn't. Not yet. Not when everything else was so uncertain.

"I can't," she whispered.

Louis stepped back, his expression unreadable. "You will. Eventually."

Tatum watched him walk away, the sound of his footsteps fading into the distance, and for the first time in a long time, she wondered if he was right. Maybe she was running. Maybe she'd always been running from the one thing that could make her feel alive.

As the echoes of his departure lingered, Tatum's mind churned with memories she'd long suppressed. Faces and moments flashed before her eyes—times when she'd chosen the safe path, avoiding risks that could lead to genuine connection or potential heartbreak. The walls she'd built around herself, once a source of comfort and protection, now felt like barriers imprisoning her from the world outside.

The weight of her solitude pressed heavily upon her chest, and she found herself questioning the choices that had led her to this point. Was it fear of vulnerability that kept her isolated? Or perhaps a deeper dread of confronting the parts of herself she'd rather keep hidden?

The realization was unsettling. In her quest for self-preservation, she'd inadvertently numbed herself to the very experiences that could bring her joy and fulfillment. The thought that he might have seen through her defenses, recognizing the truth she refused to acknowledge, sent a shiver down her spine.

As the room grew quieter, Tatum made her way to the window, gazing out at the world beyond. The bustling life outside continued unabated, a stark contrast to the turmoil within her. She realized that while she'd been standing still, life had been moving forward, leaving her behind.

A surge of determination welled up inside her. Perhaps it was time to confront her fears, to dismantle the barriers she'd erected, and to embrace the uncertainties that came with truly living. The path ahead was unclear, but for the first time, Tatum felt a glimmer of hope—a possibility that she could change her narrative and step into a life where she wasn't merely existing but truly alive.

࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎

The studio was buzzing with energy as One Direction set up, getting ready for yet another long day of recording. Tatum stood by the sound booth, arms crossed, watching the band with a mixture of irritation and reluctant admiration. The last thing she wanted to do was collaborate with a group of guys who were as cocky as they were talented, especially Louis. But here she was, locked in a room with them, all under the guise of "working together."

What a joke.

Louis, as usual, was the first to catch her eye. He flashed a smirk her way, his posture confident as he adjusted his mic. There was always something infuriating about the way he carried himself—like he knew exactly what was going to happen next, like he was always ten steps ahead. She tried to ignore him, but his presence alone made it impossible.

"Ready to record, Tatum?" Louis asked, his voice dripping with that same smugness she hated.

Tatum shot him a glare, brushing past him to grab her own mic. "Do I have a choice?"

The other guys in the band exchanged glances, sensing the usual tension between the two. Niall leaned over to Liam and whispered, "Here we go again."

"Don't feed into it," Liam murmured back, his eyes on Louis and Tatum. It was like a game at this point, one that was entertaining for everyone except for the two involved.

"Alright, alright," Zayn called out, holding up his hands. "Can we just get this done without the constant bickering?"

Tatum opened her mouth to retort, but Louis beat her to it, turning to Zayn with a grin. "You know how it goes, mate. It wouldn't be a proper session without some sparks flying."

"Fine," she muttered under her breath, settling into the rhythm of the music. The track was upbeat, infectious, and the chorus was one she was almost too familiar with. It had that feel-good vibe, the kind that was meant to be fun and catchy. But every time Louis' voice blended with hers, she felt that familiar tension. It was like their harmonies were fighting each other, both in pitch and in their personalities.

Minutes turned into hours as they worked through the song, getting closer to a final take. But despite the music, the energy between her and Louis didn't ease. Every time they had to share a moment in the booth together, whether for a duet or a simple backup line, her skin would prickle with the unspoken animosity between them.

Louis' voice broke through the tension, his tone lighter than usual. "You know, Tatum, I think we actually make a pretty good team. Too bad you'll never admit it."

Her eyes flicked to him, narrowing. "Don't get too cocky, Tomlinson. You're still the last person I'd want to work with."

"Is that so?" He raised an eyebrow, leaning closer as he adjusted the microphone in front of her. "Maybe you're just afraid I'm better at this than you."

Tatum couldn't help the way her breath hitched, though she immediately cursed herself for it. "Better? You wish," she shot back, though her voice wavered for a second.

There was a long pause. The air between them felt thicker than before, charged with something neither of them was willing to admit. Louis eyes lingered a little longer than necessary, his gaze holding hers.

Niall cleared his throat, causing both of them to snap back to the reality of the session. "Could you two save the fight or foreplay, or whatever you wanna call it, for after we're done here?"

The tension broke as they both turned their attention back to the music. But it lingered, undeniable, and it was starting to feel like there was something beneath all the bickering. Something that neither of them was willing to acknowledge.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of music, pauses, and sharp words thrown in between. But when the session finally wrapped, everyone was exhausted. The energy had shifted, the music completed, but something had changed between Louis and Tatum. It was subtle but undeniable.

As the band packed up, Louis found himself lingering near Tatum, who was busy with her coat. He watched her for a moment before speaking, his voice quieter than usual. "You know, for all the shit we give each other, I think you're pretty damn talented."

She hesitated, looking up at him, unsure of how to respond to the unexpected sincerity in his voice. "Thanks, I guess."

"Maybe next time, we could actually try to make this work without the whole 'hate each other' act."

Tatum's heart skipped a beat, and before she could overthink it, she responded. "We'll see about that."

With that, Louis gave her one of his signature smirks—though this time, it held a layer of something else beneath it, something warmer, maybe even a little hopeful.

She turned to leave, her chest tight, but there was a flicker of something in the back of her mind. Something she couldn't quite place.

࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎

The days leading up to the concert were a whirlwind. The schedule was packed, and rehearsals took over every waking hour. For Tatum, it felt like the calm before the storm. The closer the concert got, the more she realized that this collaboration with One Direction was a bigger deal than she'd initially thought. It wasn't just another performance—it was a massive crossover, a blending of worlds that made her feel like she was walking on a tightrope.

By the time they arrived at the rehearsal studio two days before the show, the air was thick with anticipation. Tatum had spent the morning mentally preparing herself, running through vocal warm-ups in her dressing room, trying to block out the noise of the crew setting up. But the second she stepped into the studio, she felt the shift in the energy. It was the kind of charged atmosphere that only came before something big. The stage was set, lights testing, and the band was scattered across the room, going over their individual parts.

Louis was one of the first people she saw. He was standing by the microphone, his eyes scanning the setlist. His expression was focused, but when he saw her enter, a flicker of something crossed his face—something that looked almost like relief, or maybe a challenge. It was hard to tell.

Tatum, already feeling the nerves creeping in, barely acknowledged him. She walked past him, keeping her distance as she joined Niall and Liam by the side of the stage.

"Hey, Tatum, you good?" Niall asked with a smile, his easygoing nature always managing to put her at ease.

"Yeah, just... ready for this to be over," she said, her voice light but her mind already racing. She had been pushing the thoughts of Louis to the back of her mind for the last couple of days, but the proximity to him was starting to make it impossible to ignore.

Louis, overhearing her, gave a low chuckle from across the room. "What's the matter, Tatum? Nervous?"

Her head snapped toward him, and for a moment, their eyes locked. There was that damn smirk again, the one that made her feel like she was constantly under a microscope.

"I'm not nervous," she said, her voice steadier than she felt. "Just tired of hearing your voice."

Louis raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained. "You're just mad because I can hit all the high notes and you can't."

"Please," she replied, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "You're not that good."

The playful banter was familiar, but there was something different this time. The usual sting of irritation was mingled with something else—a flicker of something deeper, something that made her second-guess every sharp word she said.

As rehearsals kicked off, Tatum's nerves tightened. The performance was so close now, and she couldn't shake the pressure of everything—the expectations, the audience, the collaboration with One Direction. But it was Louis who kept drawing her attention. His voice, his presence, the way he moved on stage like he belonged there—everything about him was magnetic.

She couldn't deny that his confidence had always grated on her, but now, in this space, in this moment, it was like she was finally seeing him for who he was—not just the loud, cocky guy she loved to hate, but an artist who had spent years perfecting his craft. It was hard to look away.

For a while, they worked in silence, focusing on the music. Tatum's interactions with Louis were minimal, just quick exchanges about notes and cues. But every time their paths crossed, there was a flicker of tension. It was almost like they were dancing around each other, neither one of them willing to give in, but both feeling the pull.

After hours of rehearsal, they took a break. Tatum stepped off the stage, grabbing a bottle of water and leaning against the wall. She was mentally and physically drained, but the last thing she wanted to do was sit down. She needed to keep moving.

"Taking a break already?" Louis' voice came from behind her, the familiar teasing tone pulling her attention. She didn't turn around, but she could feel him standing there, close enough that she could hear the light shuffle of his feet.

"Yeah, I'm human," she shot back, her back still turned. "Unlike some people."

Louis chuckled, but there was a softness to it this time. He took a step closer, and she felt the change in the air, the weight of his presence behind her. "You're not as bad as you pretend to be, you know."

She hesitated before turning to face him. His face was a mix of exhaustion and amusement, his hair resembled a headgehog, slightly tousled from hours of singing and dancing. The usual teasing look was gone, replaced by something almost... thoughtful. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Louis' gaze softened, but only for a second. "You act like you hate me, but I can see it—you're starting to get into this. Starting to enjoy it. You know I can tell."

Her heart skipped a beat. It was strange, hearing him say something that wasn't laced with sarcasm. But before she could respond, Niall appeared at her side, saving her from having to come up with an answer.

"Oi, you two, stop having your little moment over here," Niall said, playfully nudging Tatum. "We've got a show to put on, remember?"

Tatum forced a smile, feeling the tension ebb away, but only for a moment. As Niall moved off to join Liam, she glanced back at Louis. He was already looking at her, that same spark of something unspoken in his eyes.

For the rest of the night, the rehearsal felt different. The music was louder, more intense, and their interactions—though still filled with snark—held a new undercurrent. They were close, too close, and with every note they sang together, the walls between them felt like they were slowly crumbling.

By the end of the night, Tatum was exhausted, but something else lingered in the air. Something that she couldn't quite define. She tried to push it down, tried to focus on the show, on the performance. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't ignore the way her heart had started to race around Louis, or the way his eyes lingered on her when he thought no one was watching.

࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎

The countdown had officially begun. Only three days remained before the big performance, and the air in the studio felt like it was thick with anticipation—and frustration. Tatum couldn't stand the way the rehearsals were going. Every time she looked around, there was Louis, standing there with that smug grin, like he had it all figured out. Like he owned the stage. It was infuriating, and even more so because, deep down, part of her knew he had a point. He was good. Too good. But she'd never admit that to him—not to his face.

The tension between them had only increased over the past few days, and it was starting to wear on everyone. The constant bickering, the sharp words thrown between them like daggers, had become routine. At least, that's how it felt to Tatum. She hated the way it consumed her, how every word from Louis made her pulse spike, how every glance sent a wave of irritation crashing over her. But she couldn't stop it.

It was the third day before the concert when things really started to heat up.

Tatum stood backstage, pacing as the band rehearsed. The lights above flickered, adding to the already tense atmosphere. The rest of the guys were doing their thing, but Louis—Louis was everywhere. Every time she tried to focus on the music, she found herself distracted by him. The way he moved across the stage with that carefree attitude. The way his voice cut through the mix like it was meant to be heard. It made her blood boil.

She gritted her teeth and crossed her arms, watching as Louis sang with Zayn. She was meant to be focused on her own part, but no—every time Louis laughed or joked with the others, it made her stomach churn.

"You alright there?" Niall's voice broke her thoughts, and she glanced up to find him leaning against the wall nearby.

"Yeah," she muttered, though it was a lie. "Just tired of this whole thing."

"You mean Louis?" Niall asked, his tone half-joking, half-serious.

"Exactly," Tatum said, not even bothering to hide the frustration in her voice. "I can't stand him."

"Maybe he's just trying to mess with you," Niall shrugged, obviously amused. "But you're biting. I think that's what he wants."

"Well, I'm not playing his games," she snapped, too annoyed to care about how she sounded. "I'm not here to make friends, Niall. I'm here to work. He's just a distraction."

Niall held his hands up in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, no need to bite my head off. But you know, the whole band can feel it, right? The tension? It's pretty obvious."

Tatum shot him a glare before turning back to Louis. He was now standing off to the side, chatting with Harry, and the sight of him laughing with the others made her feel like she was going to explode.

"I can't stand it," she muttered, stepping forward, not fully realizing she was walking toward Louis until she was right in front of him.

Louis looked up at her, the familiar cocky smirk immediately curling on his lips. "What's up, Tatum? You look a little... irritated today."

She clenched her fists, her pulse quickening with anger. "You think this is funny?" she hissed, her voice low, yet laced with venom. "You think it's funny to mess with me, to get under my skin like that?"

Louis tilted his head, studying her for a moment, his smirk never faltering. "I think you take everything way too seriously. It's just a bit of fun, no need to get all worked up."

Tatum stepped closer, her jaw tight, her words deliberate. "It's not funny, Louis. And if you think I'm just some idiot you can push around, you've got another thing coming."

Louis' eyes darkened slightly, though his grin only widened. "So what are you going to do about it, Tatum? Get all dramatic again? Make a scene?"

"Maybe I will," she shot back, her voice rising now. "Maybe I'm tired of you acting like I'm the only one who's wrong in all of this."

"Oh, don't act like you've got some moral high ground. You're the one who started this little war," Louis shot back, his voice cutting through the space between them.

"Maybe I'm sick of playing your games, Louis! Maybe I'm sick of pretending I care about this stupid collaboration when all you do is show off and act like you're the only one who matters!" Her words were sharp, the anger flowing out of her before she could stop it.

Louis took a step forward, his body tense now, his jaw clenched. "You think I'm the one acting like I'm the only one who matters? Look at yourself! You're the one constantly throwing insults, constantly playing the victim. You think I'm the problem? Maybe you're just pissed off that you can't control everything."

Tatum's breath caught at the accusation, the words striking harder than she'd expected. She had always prided herself on keeping a level head, but something about him saying that hit her right in the gut. She opened her mouth to snap back, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, she clenched her fists again, her whole body stiffening.

Louis stared at her for a long moment, his eyes hard, as if trying to dissect every ounce of her frustration, her anger, and her words. The silence between them was suffocating, charged with the tension they'd been building for days. Tatum's chest was rising and falling with shallow breaths, her hands still clenched into fists at her sides. Her mind was racing, but no words could escape her lips. It was like the space between them had expanded, a viewpoint that felt almost impossible to bridge, yet he was the one stepping away from it, leaving her standing on the precipice.

The look he gave her, a mixture of disbelief, contempt, and something else, something deeper, burned in her chest. It made her feel exposed, like he could see right through her, to the parts of herself she wasn't willing to admit. But it was more than just his gaze. The way he didn't flinch, didn't react the way she expected, made her pulse race with something she couldn't name. Anger, frustration, maybe even a little bit of fear. Fear that everything she was trying to protect, every wall she had built up, was starting to crack.

And then, just like that, he turned away. No final words, no rebuttal, just the sound of his shoes against the polished floor as he walked off. It wasn't a dramatic exit, he didn't make a scene, didn't give her any satisfaction of watching him storm off. But that's what made it worse. It felt like he was leaving her with nothing, like she wasn't even worth his attention anymore. Like he'd already written her off.

Tatum stood frozen in place, her mind spinning in a blur of emotions. Her hands were still tight, her jaw clenched, but the moment his back was turned, the tension that had been coiled so tightly in her chest suddenly felt like it was about to snap. She could feel the heat rise in her face, the frustration swelling up into a knot in her throat. Every part of her wanted to shout after him, demand some kind of closure, to make him feel as angry, as conflicted, as she did. But the silence in the room, the weight of his departure, made her feel small, exposed in a way she hadn't expected.

For a few seconds, she was utterly still, unable to move or think. The sounds of the band and crew continuing with their work felt distant now, as if the world had narrowed to just her and the bitter sting of Louis walking away. The seconds dragged on like minutes, and yet she couldn't shake the image of him—the way he walked, the way he hadn't looked back, the way he'd left her standing there like nothing had happened, like her anger meant nothing at all.

Tatum exhaled sharply, her chest tightening with frustration. She hated this. Hated feeling like this, so vulnerable, so raw, with her emotions tangled in a knot she couldn't untangle. She couldn't even explain it to herself, let alone anyone else. But the fact remained: Louis had gotten under her skin again. And she didn't know how to stop it.

She closed her eyes briefly, trying to push the thoughts away, but they lingered. The bitterness, the anger, the strange unease that had settled in her stomach. It was as though everything she thought she knew about herself was being thrown into question. She didn't know how to fix it, didn't know how to stop feeling like she was walking on the edge, waiting for the next confrontation to send her tumbling over.

It was only then, in the aftermath of his departure, that Tatum realized just how much he affected her. That realization made her skin prickle with unease. The battle she fought to keep everything inside, to maintain that icy detachment, felt like it was becoming harder with each passing moment they shared. She didn't know if she wanted to scream or cry or just walk away from it all. But she couldn't. Not now. Not when the performance was so close, and the band and the crew were depending on her to keep it together.

Still standing there, lost in the echo of their last words, Tatum took a deep breath and straightened her back. She had to keep moving, keep focusing on the task ahead. But the knot in her chest, the unease, wasn't going anywhere. And neither was Louis.

࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎

The rehearsal continued, but the air between them had shifted, thickening with the unresolved tension. And it wasn't just between her and Louis anymore. The rest of the band could feel it too, and they didn't know what to do with the storm that had just erupted.

Later, as the day wound down and the team began to pack up, Tatum couldn't shake the feeling of anger that still clung to her. She needed space—away from the band, away from Louis. But before she could slip out the door, Niall stopped her.

"Hey, you good?" he asked again, more seriously this time.

Tatum met his gaze, her frustration simmering just beneath the surface. "No, I'm not. I'm tired of this. Tired of him. I don't know how much longer I can do this without snapping."

Niall gave her a sympathetic look. "Maybe it's time to talk to him. Seriously. This fighting? It's exhausting."

Tatum shook her head, trying to push away the ache in her chest. "Talking to him never works. He's impossible."

"I get it," Niall said, his tone soft. "But the show's coming up. You can't keep avoiding it."

Tatum felt a wave of guilt crash over her, but she forced herself to swallow it down. She wasn't ready to talk, not yet. And as much as she hated it, Louis wasn't going to be easy to get rid of—physically or emotionally. The performance was coming, and whether she liked it or not, she had to face him again.

࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎

The night before the performance, the tension in the air was palpable. It had been brewing for days, weeks, really—but now, with the final rehearsal behind them and the audience waiting just beyond the horizon, everything felt heavier. The band and Tatum were all gathered in the backstage area, the last few moments before the show quickly ticking away.

The excitement from the others was evident, laughter, chatter, nervous energy, but Tatum couldn't shake the gnawing frustration in her gut. Not only was she battling the nerves of performing live for the first time with One Direction, but she was also tangled in the relentless tension with Louis.

She tried her best to avoid him, to bury herself in preparations, but his presence was unavoidable. His voice, his movements, the way his eyes seemed to always find hers, even when he wasn't speaking. It was maddening. The anger that had simmered over the past few days, the insults, the taunts, all felt like they were sitting just beneath her skin, waiting for the right moment to erupt.

Tatum stood off to the side, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her eyes scanning the crew moving around, the chaos that always came before a show. She could feel the eyes of the others flicking over at her occasionally, but she refused to acknowledge them. She wasn't here for small talk or pleasantries. She was here to do her job, despite everything else.

But then, there was the sound of footsteps behind her. At first, it was faint—just a subtle rhythm against the polished floor, soft but distinct. But she didn't need to turn around to know who it was. She could feel it. The shift in the air, the subtle change that happened when he was near. It was like everything in the room held its breath in anticipation, a kind of stillness that fell over the space the moment Louis entered it.

The noise of the band, the crew, the endless hum of preparation—they all faded for a split second. The world around her seemed to slow, the rush of her thoughts and the rhythm of her heart overtaken by the awareness of him, closing in. It wasn't even about the sound of his footsteps. It was the weight of his presence. The way the space seemed to tighten, how the air itself felt heavier, as though it were pressing in from all sides.

There was an undeniable pull, an invisible force that tugged at her senses, making everything else seem insignificant for just that moment. Even without looking at him, she could feel the heat of his gaze, the steady pulse of his proximity. It was like he had an effect on the atmosphere itself, a magnetic pull that demanded attention.

Tatum could sense the way his energy seemed to ripple through the room, making the air feel thicker, charged with something unsaid. Every small movement he made, the way his boots echoed softly in the distance, seemed to reverberate through her body, her nerves picking up on his every shift. It was as if the space between them contracted and expanded with every step he took.

It was unnerving. The moment he entered the room, the world felt just a little too close, a little too alive. She couldn't escape it—him—no matter how much she tried to focus on the others around her, to pretend that his presence didn't matter. But it did. It always did. And she hated how it made her feel, how it made everything else seem more intense, more charged.

Her muscles tensed, and her pulse quickened, even though she hadn't turned to face him. It was like she could sense him even without seeing him. The awareness was suffocating, the way the silence between them stretched out, thick and heavy, a tension that seemed to hang in the air and settle into her bones.

"Looks like someone's in a mood," Louis' voice broke the silence, and Tatum immediately stiffened.

Without turning to face him, she took a deep breath, trying to remain composed. "What do you want, Louis?" Her voice was clipped, controlled, though every word felt like it was dragging itself out of her throat.

Louis leaned against the wall next to her, his arms casually crossed as he observed her, his expression unreadable. "Just making sure you're not planning on ruining the show," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

She whipped around, her face hardening. "Excuse me?"

He didn't flinch. "You heard me. You've been acting like a ticking time bomb for days now. If you're not careful, you're going to bring the whole vibe down." He spoke like he was lecturing a child, his voice laced with that all-too-familiar condescension.

Tatum felt a flare of heat rise in her chest. She could feel the anger building like a storm, rising in waves until she couldn't hold it back any longer. "You think I'm the one ruining things?" she snapped, her voice low but fierce. "Maybe it's you, Louis. Maybe it's the way you've been trying to get under my skin this whole time. Maybe you can't handle the fact that not everyone finds you so... charming."

Louis chuckled, but there was no amusement in it. It was like the sound of a challenge, an invitation to keep going. "Oh, I'm sorry, Tatum. I didn't realize you had such a delicate ego. Must be tough, being so easily offended by the slightest thing."

Tatum took a step closer to him, her breath coming in sharp, quick bursts. "You don't know anything about me," she spat, her anger boiling over. "You think you can just say whatever you want, and I'll roll with it? Newsflash: I'm not some girl you can mess with. You don't get to dictate how I feel or what I do."

Louis' gaze darkened, his jaw tightening. "Oh, I see. You're all tough and untouchable now, huh? Fine. But don't pretend like I'm the problem here. You're the one who's been acting like a damn child for the past week. Everyone can feel it. You've made this whole thing a hell of a lot harder than it needed to be."

"Don't act like I'm the only one," Tatum shot back, her voice rising with every word. "You've been making everything worse. You're the one who starts the games, who taunts and pokes until I'm ready to lose my mind. So don't turn this around on me, Louis."

He stepped forward then, closing the space between them. His presence was overwhelming, as always, and Tatum's heart pounded in her chest, a mix of anger and something else she refused to acknowledge. "Maybe you should just admit that you can't handle it," he said, his voice barely above a whisper now, but sharp and pointed. "Maybe you're just pissed off because you can't control what's happening. And that, Tatum, that's not my problem."

The words hit her like a slap in the face. She could feel her pulse quickening, the blood rushing to her head as her hands clenched at her sides. She wanted to scream, wanted to push him away, but instead, she just stood there, furious, her whole body trembling with the force of her emotions.

"You don't know anything about me," she hissed, her voice dangerously low.

Louis smirked, his eyes glinting with something she couldn't quite place. "I think I know you better than you realize."

The space between them crackled with an energy that felt almost electric, like a storm on the verge of breaking. Neither of them moved, neither of them backed down. They were locked in some kind of unspoken battle, neither willing to surrender, both so desperate to maintain their ground that it was almost suffocating.

Tatum finally turned away from him, breaking the intense, charged stare. She could feel his gaze burning into her back, could feel the weight of his presence even though she had physically removed herself. She didn't trust herself to say another word—not right now, not when every part of her was on the edge of snapping.

The rehearsal continued in the background, but Tatum could hardly focus. Her mind was a mess of emotions—anger, frustration, fear, and something else she wasn't ready to admit. It was all tangled up inside her, a storm she couldn't outrun.

As the minutes ticked by, she felt the anxiety of the performance closing in on her. The show was in a few hours, and the weight of everything—the fighting, the unresolved tension, the rawness of it all—was unbearable. But she had to keep going. She had no choice. She had to perform. She had to show them all that she was more than just the girl who couldn't control her emotions, more than just the girl who fought with Louis Tomlinson.

And as for Louis... well, she didn't know what to make of him anymore. But she knew one thing for sure: this wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎

The minutes passed in a blur. The chaotic energy of backstage—the crew moving in a rush, the sounds of instruments being tuned, the rush of last-minute adjustments—became a distant hum in Tatum's ears. She was lost in her own thoughts, trapped in the knot of nerves and frustration that had been building all day. Every moment of the rehearsal, every second spent fighting with Louis, had led to this point. The tension was suffocating, but there was no turning back now.

The sound of a microphone being tested snapped her back into focus. Her stomach did a nervous flip. She looked around, finding the band members as they lined up, each one looking just as ready—just as nervous—as she felt. But the difference was that they had each other. And she, well, she had only herself to rely on.

The countdown had begun.

The team moved like clockwork now, the final preparations quickly falling into place. A hush spread through the backstage area, and the excitement was almost tangible. Tatum adjusted the hem of her outfit, smoothing it down with hands that betrayed the anxiety she was trying to hide. She could hear the distant roar of the crowd from beyond the walls of the venue, their excitement rippling through the building like a living thing. It only made her feel smaller, more exposed. The adrenaline was starting to kick in now, but so was the pressure—the pressure of performing with One Direction, the pressure of proving herself, the pressure of being perfect.

And then, as though on cue, the music started—the familiar introduction to one of their songs. It was the moment she had been dreading all day, and now that it was here, she was fighting to keep herself together.

Louis moved past her, close enough for her to feel the heat radiating off him, his presence impossible to ignore. He glanced at her briefly, but there was no smug grin this time, no sarcastic remark. His face was focused, determined. She couldn't tell if it was the same nerves she was feeling or something more, but for once, she didn't see that familiar cocky grin.

They all took their positions on stage. The lights, bright and blinding, made it impossible to see anything beyond the first few rows of the crowd, but the sound of their excitement was deafening. The air was thick with anticipation, the buzz of their voices mixing with the music. Tatum felt her heart race, her pulse thrumming in her ears.

As the song began, she threw herself into it, focusing entirely on the performance, on the music, on the rhythm. But the tension she had been carrying for days was still there, lurking beneath her skin, threatening to make its presence known. It was like she couldn't escape it, no matter how hard she tried.

And Louis... he was everywhere. Every glance, every move, was calculated, precise. There was no room for error tonight. She caught glimpses of him between lyrics, his sharp eyes meeting hers for the briefest of moments before darting away. It felt like a game, like he was trying to see if she could keep her cool while the world around them exploded in chaos.

The fight between them, the unresolved tension, it was all right there in the air, hanging over them like a cloud that wouldn't dissipate. She could feel his presence pressing in on her as she moved across the stage, the weight of their earlier argument sitting heavily on her shoulders. But for now, she buried it deep, her voice cutting through the music, her body moving in sync with the others.

But Louis, he was still there. His every move was calculated, performed with the kind of effortless charisma that always made him the center of attention. But tonight, he wasn't just performing for the crowd. He was performing for her, too. She could feel it in the way his eyes occasionally flicked over to her, in the way his smile seemed to linger just a second too long when they shared the spotlight. It was like a challenge, a silent battle between them—one that she wasn't sure she was winning.

As the song came to an end, the roar of the crowd hit them like a wave, and for a split second, Tatum felt something inside her crack. The adrenaline, the lights, the sound—it was all so much. It was overwhelming. But it was also a release. The pressure of everything—of the argument, of the buildup—faded for just a moment, swallowed up in the energy of the crowd. For a fleeting instant, it almost felt like everything was right, like everything could be fixed with just one performance.

But then, as the next song began, reality came crashing back.

Louis' voice joined hers, the harmony between them as perfect as ever, but the distance that had grown between them felt impossible to close. The tension was still there, thickening the air. As they sang, their eyes met again, this time for longer, and the weight of it—the unspoken words, the unresolved conflict—hung between them like a thread, taut and waiting to snap.

Tatum fought the urge to break away, to walk off the stage and escape the suffocating pressure. But she couldn't. Not now. Not in front of the crowd.

Instead, she swallowed it down, burying the frustration and the anger beneath the performance. She would finish this. She would prove herself, no matter how much Louis' presence grated on her, no matter how much their unresolved tension made every note feel heavier.

The show went on, but the battle between them, quiet—unspoken—was far from over.

࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎

a/n : tbh, tatum starting a fight with louis was kinda unecessary, but she’s honestly so me, and i just wanted a fight betwe them, sighs 🙁💔💔 also sorry if this chapter makes no sense, but i honestly just gave up on it. anyways, i’ve already started working on the next chapter, so it should be out pretty soon.