#just a reminder that i’m studying to be a theatre artist so i like it when characters are a little theatrical 🥰

[0039pf-third-blog-hooray]

chat, what do we think about redesign of my musketeers?

the old ones

here, so as not to jump to another post. it’s only been a month!

and a couple of headshots that i drew while working on references

[thevilqueen]

I think that Rook’s betrayal of Vil in Book 5 is particularly cruel and I think it truly layers their relationship into something complex and nuanced that I really like.

Rook and Vil bonded thanks to their shared love for theatre and cinema back when they had just met. We don’t have many details but we know that it culminated in Rook being so obsessed with Vil that he changed dorms to study beauty more closely. Rook is very passionate and he expresses his affection extravagantly. While he doesn’t do so exclusively with Vil, it is seemingly more intense with him.

Now Vil is a very popular person, he is used to being admired but there is no denying that Rook can hardly be rivalled by someone else at least as far as the game portrays it. So I think it’s safe to assume that Vil isn’t immune to it. After all, why wouldn’t he indulge in the idea of being someone’s number one? While it’s still far from fulfilling his longing for the spotlight, it must have felt nice being acknowledged in such a way. Rook and Vil have known each other for at least two years and in all this time despite Rook’s admiration and dedication to Neige he has never once mentioned it to Vil, fully aware that Vil and him worked together closely often.

This isn’t just a mere detail about Rook’s personal life either. Neige had a huge impact on his life. He is also known by Neige as a dedicated fan. Neige is seemingly very famous. In hordes of fans, for Rook to stand out to the point Neige would recognise him is no small feat. His obsession with Neige is time-consuming and serious. We don’t have an explanation as to why he hid the truth from Vil and we never will. As far as I’m concerned I believe Rook never had malicious intent hiding that fact. He’s known to be secretive and even Vil admits still being surprised by him.

Regardless, to find out so abruptly after overbloting and losing to Neige yet again couldn’t have been painless to Vil. Vil is someone who is known for having trust issues, keeping his walls high and repressing his feelings. So I find it terribly heartbreaking that the seemingly closest person to him who spent their time making him believe he was their ultimate obsession for two years reveals their true ultimate obsession all along was his long-term rival, not just him. That revelation wasn’t even initiated by Rook himself, meaning that if it had been up to him he would have kept hiding it.

To be clear, none of that diminishes their relationship as well as Rook’s importance to Vil. Rook visibly cares deeply for Vil and so does Vil for him. Vil also forgives him and handles it very maturely. Yet none of his feelings are truly addressed when this betrayal is so tightly linked to his deepest insecurity. Vil is never going to be Rook’s ultimate obsession as an artist. That’s Neige. It has been Neige for a long time. Furthermore, Vil’s flaw is his obsession with the desire to be number one. Rook directly feeds into Vil’s vice and there are several instances where he does which is why their relationship can be both good and bad for Vil.

At best Rook pushes him to new heights, challenges him to go further, to want more. At worst Rook reminds him of his shortcomings and encourages his bad habits. Rook is very much a double-edged sword to Vil which I think is very interesting.

[liadotpdf]

God I need to write about this somewhere so tumblr it’s is. As an artist it may be my reality or it may be just a consequence of my procrastination, or it may be both in this case. I was met with a very big project for me (I’m a 21 yo graphic design & animation student on the second year of my studies with just some minor experience in the ✨real✨field.) it was my second or third project this big and in case of importance and exposure it was the biggest.

Anyway the deal was to make an animation that will be the part of the stenography in an amateur play in a really fancy theatre in tricyty so.. even tho it’s amateur….it’s big. My group made a plan we had only a month to do it the first premiere will be on this Friday. We got some ups and downs as a group a lot of things didn’t go as planned, I took a lead and one part of animation-the garden. I came across so many errors struggles and in general suffering haha jk. But it was tough recent week for me was sleepless and kinda falling behind with all the other projects I had for my studies. But today, I made it! I got it! Finished my part the animating process is done. I’m kinda relieved now I will only stress about being a coordinator on the plays, but it’s nice to know that I no more have to make the animation on every possible circumstance I have.

That made me thinkink about my state of mind. I haven’t even started to recover as I said I just exported the file, but I have to think about the work and my thoughts while struggling with this project.

The thing that kept hounding my tired brain was the fact that all of this was me not really keeping up and struggling with the work assigned to me, I was thinking how useless I am how my work is worthless that if my animation isn’t perfect then I disappointed everybody on my team. How I’m not suitable for the work.

It’s just crazy how easily those disturbing thoughts kept coming. Just because I was tired and Burnt out.

Right now as I’m done with my work and I gained some perspective and just took a breath I think I need to say this so someone will read this and it will affect them and probably so the future me will find it and I will remind myself about this.

1. Being 21yo is just being an adult baby, it’s okay that you struggle- you are learning. Everything you do rn is learning, gaining experience. Don’t compare yourself it’s never too late to improve and be succesful. And for you it’s not even close to being late. You are on a perfect point of your journey as you are right now.

2.the feelings that you have in this slump ate irrational. I know you Hape yourself rn but don’t make bad decisions just because you are feeling worthless at that particular moment.

3.every experience like this is a gem! Looking back at all my projects sketches works in progress there was so much changes and each one was better than the previous one.

4. It’s going to be okay. Some things won’t match your expectations, they can be even bad and just not go well at all but it’s still a learning process as long as you did your job and you gave everything you got- it is enough. And making not so great project isn’t the end of the world more so it’s better than not doing anything! Making mistakes and failing is a ok!!! The universe is too big to be worried about things like that.

Okay I think that’s all hah here is one more wip that won’t even make it to the stage at the end

[elareine]

This is an old-ish piece I wrote for @scootboot97. It's set in a universe he came up with where a barely-legal Tim hits up a couple on Craigslist to lose his virginity.

He gets his first tattoo at sixteen.

The artist doesn’t ask for his age, just studies the design with interest. “Did you do that yourself?”

Roy nods. “Yeah.” He’s always liked drawing. Looking through his designs, the scorpion and the letters ‘POISON’ just seemed fitting.

“That’s really good, man,” the artists says, “you should consider doing this for real later.”

Roy doesn’t say anything. He knows the other man can see the marks on his arms. There won’t be anything like that in his future.

-

After rehab, he adds another design right underneath it. Same color scheme, a skull with a bow and seven arrows—one for each time he tried getting sober. It’s a reminder and a promise.

A month later, he meets Jason and Kori. Roy never told them, but he credits that tattoo with his good luck. A physical manifestation of his wishes of the future, or something, and there they are. None of them have any money except for a fortune in trust issues, but they make do, and within weeks Roy can’t imagine his life without them.

It’s not a surprise when Jason kisses him as so much a ‘oh, there you are.’ They belong to each other, after that, no matter who else they fuck. Roy will never have to find out whether he’d have managed to stay clean without Jason’s help, and he’s thankful for that.

-

He adds a tattoo to his other arm—a monster, a nightmare, with a long tail that turns into an arrow. It’s meant to show his way out. Moving forward, even if the monster never leaves.

This time, he asks the artist: “So, what would I need to do to get into this business?”

He gets offered an apprenticeship on the spot.

-

Gradually, he fills up his sleeves. There are open shackles for what he left behind, and flowers for where he’s at now; a flame with bright eyes for Kori, and a red theatre mask for Jason. Everything important gets etched into his skin, covering up the scars of his past.

There’s a cigarette burn on his chest. That’s one mark that isn’t self-inflicted.

“I’m thinking about covering it up,” Roy tells Jason one evening. They’re in bed, or what counts as a bed these days. It’s just a cheap mattress on the floor, honestly. The downpayment for the flat was just about all they’ve been able to afford.

Doesn’t matter. They have a home, now. Roy would sleep on the bare floor for that.

“What are you thinking?”

Roy shrugs, as much as that’s possible with a giant draped over him. “Dunno yet. Got any suggestions?”

Jason, bless him, thinks about it, absently dropping a kiss onto the scar. “A heart. Because you survived.”

“Aww, you sap.”

“Shut up.”

-

Roy does get the heart. He adds an extra flourish, though.

“Don’t you always rant at me about clients who want to get their s.o.’s initials?” Jason’s voice is sarcastic, even biting, but Roy sees the way he looks at his name on Roy’s skin and doesn’t buy any of his bullshit.

“Okay, A, we both know we’re stuck with each other.” Roy ignores the way Jason’s mouth opens, ready to argue. “And B, doesn’t matter. Whatever happens, you’re important enough to be there.”

They stare at each other. Then all the tension leaves Jason’s body. He reaches out and traces the letters with something like reverence. “And you call me sap,” he whispers.

Roy doesn’t call him out on the wetness in his eyes. If there’s some in his own eyes, well… This is as good as a proposal for them. He can allow it, just this once.

-

Jason’s YouTube channel takes off. It’s the best thing to happen to them, honestly. Now Jason can quit that construction job, and Roy doesn’t have to feel guilty every time he leaves for the studio because he’s doing what he loves, but doesn’t pay well.

In commemoration, Roy gets his favorite comment from one of the earliest videos added do his sleeve. It just says: ‘Awesome advice and THAT ASS.’

Jason laughs and gets his own: an intricate geometric design along his arms and shoulders that spreads into wings across his back. It’s the kind of work that takes hours and several sessions to complete, and Jason insists on paying the studio for Roy’s time. The final flourish is his signature, right on the soft skin at the back of Jason’s neck where he’s most vulnerable.

When it’s finally healed, Roy runs his tongue along his name, and thinks: Mine.

-

With Tim, it takes longer.

No, that’s a lie. Roy looks down at the trusting young man sleeping on his chest that first evening and knows that their ideas about a quick hookup are doomed. Jason is clearly thinking along the same lines, because he’s in the kitchen whipping up something to feed their guest. It just takes longer for it to stop feeling fragile.

When it does, Roy seriously considers adding the Craiglist logo or something. Jason talks him out of it. In the end, he decides on that ridiculous crop-sweatshirt Tim wore that first time. Dorky and sexy at the same time—that’s Tim for him.

Tim, of course, notices the addition right away, blushing bright red as he peels Roy’s jacket off. It takes him a week to bring it up, though.

Roy doesn’t push. He doesn’t understand what makes Tim withdraw at times like these, why he seems to take some parts of their relationship for granted while others throw him for a loop, but he doesn’t have to.

They’re piled on top of each other on their narrow couch, trying to catch their breath after some really rather fantastic sex (if Roy says so himself), when it happens.

Tim is tracing the outline of the pictures on Roy’s arm, finger finally landing on the sweatshirt. “I didn’t think—“ He doesn’t finish, but they hear the end of the sentence, anyway. I didn’t think that I’m important enough.

“Actually,” Jason says, “I’d like to have your signature, too.”

Roy smiles at him fondly (Jason is the bravest of them, sometimes) and adds: “And I, your name.”

Tim looks overwhelmed, so he adds: “Eventually. If you want us to.”

Jason leans over him and cups Tim’s face, thumbing over his hot cheeks with a gentleness outsiders would never think him capable of. “No hurry, okay? We just wanted you to know.”

-

In the end, Tim comes to Roy. Jason’s birthday is coming up, and Tim knows what he wants. It’s simple, three lines intertwining around two sets of initials; still Roy has to swallow from time to time as he etches it into Tim’s skin. Jason is going to love it.

-

His colleague adds Tim’s name to his chest while Jason and Tim watch. Then Jason stretches out on the bench and Tim steps closer, taking one of Jason’s hands in his own. Tim’s other hand goes to rest on Roy’s back as he works, and Roy swears his hand has never been steadier.

Adding Tim’s signature to Jason’s back feels like a circle closing.

-

When Roy looks into the mirror and thinks about that sixteen-year-old that used some of the last money he had to get a tattoo, he can’t help be proud. Because that, that right there, is the proof that he did something with his life, everything and everyone important to him displayed for everyone to see.

There’s a murderous-looking green bird for Damian, an elegant blue one for Dick, and a looking glass for their father, who distrusted the two of them so much in the beginning and has secretly been paying their rent for months now. Alfred’s cup of tea is snug next to Cassie’s knife. Kori’s flame is still bright. And over his heart, where a scar used to be…

Roy touches the two names and smiles.

-

Drabble Song Challenge 15/50: Tausend Tattoos [Thousand tattoos] - Sido

[havethetimeofyourstyles]

in which you’re harry’s assistant and harry needs to open his eyes.

a/n: ASSISANT!YN has finally arrived! this took me three weeks and a half to write, so please enjoy and kindly rb with feedback! i’ve had this concept in mind for SO long, and i’m proud of it! this is also inspired by my love for the barcelona pic, pictured on the left, that I think about on the daily along with some thoughts in a dressing room! also picture on the right at the final show is an aspect in the story as well!

also big thank you to my bestie @stylesloveclub for screaming and hyping this up for me while I rave about it, ily!

enjoy a long slowburn of 26.3k words of a friends to lovers fic that’s filled with angst and some smut! genuinely be ready for the angst hehe

COME INTO MY INBOX AND LETS TALKING ABOUT WANT YOU HERE! i’d love to know your thoughts and feedback!

pls rb to share! <3

16 December 2017

The smell of fresh flowers brought allergies to your senses as you shuffled and continuously rubbed your nose with a tissue. 

You were at the flower shop with two bouquets in your hands as you debated which bundle to get. You were given specific instructions to find a bouquet that’s full and big with the color white being the dominant color of the bouquet, and your options were a white orchid bunch, which weren’t your personal favorite, but it was one of the white bouquets, and your other option was a white lilac bouquet with a couple of white roses and baby’s breath around the large lilacs. 

“Do you need help choosing a bouquet?” The lady that was named Vicky asked. She had an expression of curiosity as she was probably wondering if you were going to buy anything since you’ve been standing in the corner for quite some time as you tried choosing which bouquet to get. 

“Oh, no. Thank you,” you replied back with a smile, and she nodded her head, walking away to help another customer, but you knew she was going to be back to ask you again in the next ten minutes if you don’t make your mind up right now. 

After another three minutes of deciding, you opted for the white lilac bouquet, and headed to the cashier. You gave the employee your number for rewards since you were at the flower shop quite a lot that you’ve managed to rack up some points in order to get a free bouquet. Once you paid and were on your way, your phone rang in your purse. Struggling to reach for it as you were holding the big bouquet and a few shopping bags, you moved to the side to set your paper bags down on the ground, and quickly grabbed your phone so it won’t go to voicemail. 

“Hey,” you answered cheerfully, knowing exactly who it was. 

“Hi there. Where are you?” The voice from the other end asked. 

“I just left the flower shop—should be there soon.” 

“Okay, perfect. Thank you for everything.” 

“Harry, you don’t need to thank me every single time,” you chuckled. “I’m your assistant. It’s my job.” 

“I know, I know. It’s just…I’m grateful for what you do,” he said thankfully. 

“I know, and I’m grateful for having this job and working for you. So, thank you also.” 

“Look who’s saying thank you now,” he joked, and you laughed. “But I’ll see you soon. Walk back safely, please,” he said, bidding you goodbye. 

“Always do. See you,” you hung up the phone, picking up the shopping bags, and walking towards Harry’s place. 

You’ve been Harry’s assistant for quite some time now; exactly two years. You started working for him when you were both twenty one, and he had just gone separate ways from the band. Harry was in the midst of writing his very first album and planning his first world tour as a solo artist in smaller theatre venues, and desperately needed an assistant to do some basic errands and remind him of his scheduling. Luckily as Glenne’s friend, you were in need of a job. You were fresh out of college as you had your bachelor’s in public relations, and being friends with someone who’s boyfriend is in the industry has its perks. 

Glenne had immediately recommended you once Jeff mentioned that Harry was looking for an assistant, and since Jeff had met you a handful of times, he told Glenne to call you in for an interview, but somewhat knowing that he was going to hire you already since Harry desperately needed one and you were a friend. 

When you walked into the interview, you were greeted by Jeff and Harry. That was your first time meeting Harry, and you were quite shocked that he was a real person. Of course you were a fan of him, and you were still surprised whenever Glenne talked about him, but when you saw him for the first time, you immediately thought that he was more gorgeous in reality. 

“So nice to meet you,” Harry said, shaking your ring filled hand. The coolness of his metal rings met your shaky hands, and sparks had immediately shocked your body. 

“Great to meet you too. I love your shirt,” you complimented. He was wearing a bright blue button down shirt with a cherry blossom print on it with a white t-shirt underneath along with some black skinny jeans and brown boots. 

“Thank you. Your trousers are very nice,” he said back, looking down at your pants. You were wearing burnt orange corduroy pants with a white semi turtleneck blouse with a pussybow tie on it, along with some black booties. “Actually, I love your whole outfit,” he added, and you chuckled, trying to hide your blush. 

Never in a million years would you have thought you would meet Harry, let alone Harry complimenting your entire outfit. You’re really living the dream. 

The interview went extremely well and only lasted about thirty minutes. The first ten minutes were some generic interview questions because they still had to keep it professional, but the last twenty minutes consisted of asking about your interests and simply getting to know you because you would spend most of your time with Harry. 

At the end of the interview, it was quite obvious Jeff and Harry knew they wanted to hire you. They loved your personality and how you made jokes, especially how you laughed at Harry’s jokes, which he thought was a very important aspect of being his assistant. 

Jeff exited the room, telling you he would be right back, but really he went into his office to grab some paperwork for you to sign. That left you and Harry in the conference room alone as you made conversation with him about university. You also told him that you were a fan of his, which you thought was a mistake to tell him because you’re sure he doesn’t want a crazy fan to be his assistant and practically have access to his personal life, but he said gratefully said thank you, and asking if you had a favorite song off new released album. Your favorites off his album were ‘Only Angel’ and ‘From the Dining Table.’ 

“Good picks,” he teased. 

“I would hope they’re good picks. It is your album,” you teased back, making him laugh, and he thought that it was a great choice making you his assistant. 

Once Jeff was back, he opened a folder, taking out various paperwork before Harry broke the news and told you that he’d love for you to be his assistant. You hadn’t expected to be hired on the spot, or be hired in general, but there you were, reading over the contracts and signing your name at the bottom of the last page along with the date. Jeff and Harry both shook your hands, telling you that they were excited for you to be along with the ride, and you told them that you were excited as well. 

You had thanked Glenne a million times for getting you an interview, and till this day, you always made sure to thank her because one mention of your name had gotten you an opportunity and a well paying job that you actually really loved. 

Harry also made the job bearable; not truly treating you as only an assistant, but rather a friend who helps a lot. Throughout the years of knowing each other, you and Harry had grown quite close. With always being around him, it was like hanging out with him, and you were thankful for that because you were sure no other job would feel like this. Harry also doesn’t give you difficult tasks either. He just has you go on coffee runs or run to the store to grab him something, but the most work you’ve had to do for him was to call several people on his guest list for a party he was hosting last year or write out his whole schedule for the entirety of the year. But nothing strenuous that would leave you frustrated with him. 

He would also make sure everything that he assigns you to do is okay for you to do, and you really appreciated that, but you would do anything for that man. 

You stood in front of Harry’s door, setting your bags down onto the floor before you reached into your purse to grab your keys where a spare key to Harry’s place hung on the metal ring. Before your hand could even find them, the door swung open revealing Harry smiling at you, looking impeccably sharp in his suit, which caused your heart to flutter. 

“Ah, thought I heard you. Here, let me help you,” he grabbed the shopping bags from the ground and the flowers from your hands, leaving you empty handed as you followed behind him into his home. “Thank you for getting these. I’ve just been so busy lately,” he thanked once again as he did on the phone. 

“Yeah, I know. Afterall, I am your assistant,” you teased, and he laughed as he studied the bouquet. 

“This is a lovely bouquet. Good pick,” he said, and your mind immediately goes back to when he said that to you for the first time at your interview. He said it quite often as you ultimately always make the decisions when he asks you to go out and grab something for him. 

“I thought so too. Also,” you opened one of the shopping bags, taking out the garment bag before unzipping the entire thing, “I got the exact dress you asked for, and get this: it was the last one in her size. Lucky man, you are, Harry Styles,” you handed him the Yves Saint Laurent black dress so he could get a better look at it, and he held it up, smiling. 

“It’s perfect. Thank you so much, angel,” he said, and you slightly blushed from the pet name that you would never get used to. 

Harry started calling you ‘angel’ when you were two months into working for him. With all the work you do for him, the pet name had slipped out, but it stuck once he kept calling you that. You loved it--a lot, and you hoped that one day, he wouldn’t forget to call you that because you would miss the simple name coming out of his mouth very much. Plus, it was fitting because your favorite song of his is ‘Only Angel.’

“Are you excited for tonight?” You asked. 

“Yeah, I am. It’s been a while since I’ve properly taken her out on a date, so I’m stoked for it. Pretty sure she is too.” Harry had a busy schedule. With being involved in interviews and promo for his upcoming tour, he was a busy man, which you knew of course. But it had affected his personal life greatly. 

“Well, I’m happy if you are. I hope she loves the dress,” you said painfully. 

“She will. She’s been talking about it for a while now. I just hope she didn’t go buying it without telling me because that would be really awkward once I tell her to go change into this,” he chuckled softly, and you joined him, agreeing. Harry quickly checked the time on his phone as it read 6:30 p.m, and he carefully placed the dress back into the garment bag and zipped it up. He grabbed the bouquet of flowers and his wallet on the counter. “I gotta go. Gonna be late if I don’t leave now. Lock up for me if you decide not to stay, yeah?” You nodded, walking him to the door as if it were your house. “Oh!” He turned back around because he had forgotten something, and you were holding up his keys already, and he chuckled. “Thanks again. You’re a lifesaver. Don’t know what I’d do without you,” he leaned in to give you a brief kiss to your cheek, which he has done often, and you waved at him. 

“Have fun tonight! Call me if you need anything,” you called out from his front door and he waved the flowers as a sign of goodbye before getting into his car. You watched him reverse out of his driveway and drive off to his girlfriend’s house. 

With a sigh, you closed the door, looking around at what needs to be done. Harry’s place was relatively clean. He just had some things laying around on random surfaces, and you think that was probably because he was in a hurry, so he just placed them on the nearest surface. If Harry were here, he would probably tell you that cleaning up his own mess was so unnecessary and that he doesn’t expect you to, but you know that he’s grateful you’re doing it anyways. 

You were silent as you tidied up his house, putting things back in his closet, and washing the bowl of yogurt and fruit he eats in the morning. It was an unnerving silence, and you just wanted to make any kind of noise just to fill the quietness that was slowly eating you away. You grabbed one of his shirts off the ground that slipped off the hanger, and you brought it up to your nose. His scent filling your senses as you closed your eyes, taking his smell in. You inhaled enough to practically take away his entire scent that was left on his shirt to fill the satisfaction in your body as you pretended he was close. 

As you did that, you uncontrollably sobbed into the material, letting out a heartbroken cry as you covered your face with his shirt. You slowly sank down to the floor, completely sitting down on the cold tiles. The sudden outbreak of your cries weren’t new; they had made their appearance when he left for dates or after he was done talking about someone he liked. When you would go out to the store and grab things he wants gifted. When he would call you angel while he was with the devil who was keeping you two apart. 

Once you calmed down a bit, you thought about how hugging his shirt was the closest you would get to him as you wished you were the lucky person he would be greeting them with his presence and a pretty batch of flowers, but he doesn’t even know your favorite flower.

It was the next day, and you woke up in the comfort of your own bed. 

You had taken an Uber home around ten p.m the night prior as you figured Harry was still on his date and perhaps wouldn’t be coming home till later. So, after watching a movie on his couch and having dinner, you turned off all of the lights and locked up as you headed to your place for what you hope is a relaxing night. 

A weird feeling had taken over you as you got ready for bed and it felt strange. You knew you weren’t yourself, and you hated that. The outburst of your crying was long forgotten as you climbed into bed and slept the day away. 

Once you had woken up from your deep slumber, your charged phone was ringing with your text tone. Groaning, you stretched your body from the tenseness from your sleep before you reached for your phone, unplugging the charger. You rubbed your eyes and blinked a bit as the brightness of your phone was straining to your vision. When your sight had cleared up, you were greeted with various messages from Jeff, asking if you had heard from Harry or if you’ve seen him. Going to Harry’s message, you hadn’t received anything, so you texted Jeff back and told him that he hadn’t contacted you and the last time you saw him was last night. Jeff immediately texted back, asking you if you could kindly go to his place and check if he was there, and you instantly said yes, a bit worried as Jeff seemed to be worried as well. 

You got out of bed for the day, not wanting to leave, but knowing you had responsibilities, you got ready for the day, doing your normal hygienic routine.

 It was Sunday, and usually on Sundays, you didn’t have much work to do since it was Harry’s day off as well. That is, if it’s not on tour, he gets a nice little day to himself. So, you chose a comfy outfit—one where you wouldn’t sweat so much as you walked to Harry’s house in the summer heat. You opted for a big t-shirt and pairing it with black biker shorts, and some sneakers. With one last look in the mirror, you were out the door and headed to Harry’s house. 

The day was beautiful as the sun was out and the sky was blue. Rarely any clouds to overcast the sun, and there was a slight breeze in the air, making the walk more bearable so you wouldn’t sweat all that much. 

Once you got to Harry’s house, fortunately, it wasn’t that far of a walk from where you live, you unlocked the door and walked in. 

“Harry?” You called out, looking around the living area. His shoes that he normally wears out are by the couch, so he should be somewhere. He might still be asleep, you think. You walk up the stairs to his room, knocking lightly before entering. And what you saw was something you wanted to erase from your memory forever. “Oh, fuck! Sorry!” You immediately slammed the door as you stood still outside of his room, in disbelief of what you just saw. 

You had just witnessed Brooke giving Harry head. They were both obviously naked, and her actions were on full display too because the bed faced the door and Brooke was on the side of Harry rather than in front of him as she had his dick down her throat, and of course, Harry had his head back, simply enjoying it because what guy wouldn’t. 

You heard shuffling through the door, and that took you out of your spaced out mind; quickly walked down the stairs and to the kitchen, grabbing yourself a glass of water, feeling yourself get flustered from how bare Harry was in front of you. 

“God, does she ever learn how to fucking knock?” You heard Brooke faintly say as they both walked down the stairs, most likely thinking you didn’t hear, but you definitely did as her voice echoed throughout the whole fucking house. “Hey, girl,” she smiled once they both made it to the kitchen, and it was the fakest smile you’ve ever seen. No wonder she’s a good actress, you think. 

“Hi,” you said back, sipping your glass of water as you avoided eye contact with Harry. 

“Hi. What are you doing here? Do I have to be somewhere today?” He greeted, but immediately asked questions as if you were invading his privacy and day off. You looked at him very briefly, but remained your sight on his marble counter. 

“Uh, no. Jeff told me to come here and check on you; said that he hadn’t heard from you, so he was worried,” you explained, glancing up and Harry nodded. 

“Oh, okay. The last time I talked to him was before I left, but I hadn’t checked my phone since. Was it anything urgent?” You shook your head, realizing Jeff never really explained why he needed Harry, but you brushed it off. 

“He bought me this lovely bouquet of flowers and a pretty dress for dinner!” Yeah, I know. I was the one who got them, you thought. “Then he took me out on a boat ride, and we came back here-”

“Spare me the details? I already know all of this. I am his assistant afterall,” you said in a not so friendly tone, interrupting her and not wanting to know the details of what happens in his bedroom that entails Brooke. Usually, you weren’t so harsh to anyone, but you had a reason to be a bit stern with Brooke because she bites back. Unfortunately for her, you bite back even harder. 

Harry and Brooke have been dating for what seems like forever, but it’s really only been about six months. You tried being nice to her--you really tried, giving her your patience, but every time you see her, she would act cold towards you. Of course not in front of Harry because he thinks she’s an absolute saint, but she was the complete opposite of that. She was the devil and you were the angel. But of course, Harry doesn’t see that. 

Brooke gives you a harsh look, rolling her eyes a bit as Harry grabbed a glass of water for both of them. She turns to him, giving him a big smile before reaching up to kiss his lips, knowing exactly what she was doing in front of you. She then took a sip of her water, hugging Harry before she said, “I gotta go. Have a meeting at ten. I’ll call you?” Harry nodded, walking her to the front door, giving her one last kiss before she was off and Harry shut the door. You scoffed to yourself as you watched them, rolling your eyes in a way to attempt to hide your pain. 

Harry walked back to the kitchen, leaning on the counter, matching your stance. 

“I’m sorry you had to walk in on us-”

“Harry, it’s fine. I should’ve waited before I knocked,” you tried to get rid of the thought of seeing Brooke’s mouth on Harry. That was the first time you’ve walked in on him like that--fully bare on the bed while in action. Brooke was probably his first serious girlfriend in years, but he’s had some one night stands here and there, which he called you in the morning to pick him up. It wasn’t your preferred task to do because of the pain you would always feel when you would see him walk out of the house he just slept in, but then again, he is your boss. 

It was a bit quiet between you two, and Harry thinks that it’s because you practically saw his dick on full display. Partially it was for that reason, but it was also the way Brooke would treat you almost every time she sees you. Harry thinks back to when Brooke was in the house, and he could practically feel the anger from you when she was there. 

“You know, you could be a little nicer to her,” he stated, recalling what you said to Brooke and how you said it. 

“Well, she could be nicer to me in general,” you raised your brows, waiting for what he has to say about that. 

“She is nice to you. She always talks about wanting to invite you places, but she comes back sad because you’re always so quick to turn her down.”

“Brooke has never invited me anywhere. In fact, she’s never said a word to me unless you were there,” Except for that time a couple of months ago when you two had a little chat that ended up with you in tears at the end of the night. You laughed as you were in disbelief that she would actually lie to Harry that she actually wanted to be friends with you. 

“What? No. She’s always talking about wanting to get to know you more, but you just shut her down,” Harry’s brows furrowed, and you laughed even more. “W-What’s so funny?”

“Harry, you would know if she would have talked to me because I would’ve told you, but your girlfriend has never mentioned anything other than…” you trailed off as you stopped laughing, not wanting to overstep or overshare some of things that Brooke has really said to you. 

“Other than what?” He noticed that you cut yourself off. 

“Maybe ask her if you wanna know. I gotta get going,” you said, brushing it off as if it didn’t matter to you as you avoided his suspicious eyes while you headed for the door. “Make sure to call Jeff too. Oh, uh,” you turned around to find him following you to the front door, “Did you need me to do anything for you while I’m here?” You asked, still knowing that he was your boss. 

“Oh, hmm, no. Don’t think so. Enjoy your day,” he said, and you got off of his doorstep.

“Bye, H-,” you were interrupted by the sound of his door closing. You raised your brows in confusion as Harry never really interrupted you, especially not like that. He would usually wait for you to get in your car and pull out of the driveway, but he didn’t even wait for you whatsoever. 

You tried not to make it a big deal because you figured he was frustrated and probably a bit pissed that you weren’t so nice to Brooke, but how could you cover up her lie like that especially if she was so mean to you? You grew some thick skin when you first started working for Harry, and that meant that you learned how to stand up for yourself no matter who is talking to you, not even Harry’s girlfriend. 

You groaned; on the topic of Harry’s girlfriend: how could he possibly think she’s a nice person? She put up such an act in front of him, and whenever he’s not around, that act is the complete opposite. 

When will he realize what’s right in front of him? That’s been right in front of him for years now. You were tired of meeting his new love interests and picking him up from other people’s houses when he could be at yours without worrying about going anywhere or leaving because the morning would be spent cuddling and making breakfast together. Oh, how you envied the people he got to hold onto tight and freely kiss as you wished for those lips to land on you as he called you angel. 

The thought was driving you insane because you wouldn’t dare tell him whatsoever. Afterall, he was your boss and it would be awkward if he didn’t feel the same way. But you think he would never see you in that way, so you keep your mouth shut and hold your heart close as you just go with the flow despite the pain you feel. 

20 December 2017

Harry was laying on his back breathless as Brooke collapsed right next to him, deeply sighing as she tried catching her breath. 

“How does it get better every single time?” She giggled as she was in a post orgasmic state. She shifted so she was laying into Harry’s side, cuddling him as he wrapped his arm around her. He smiled, kissing the top of her head. Brooke’s hand roamed his chest as it was her way of showing that she would like to go for another round. 

She started kissing his chest and his neck, and Harry wasn’t opposed to the idea, but the sound of his phone vibrating on his bedside table had killed the mood. 

“Don’t answer it, please. Want you again,” she sat up slightly and buried her head more into his neck as she kissed and sucked his skin. He was so close to listening to her, trying to block out the sound of his phone, but as it kept vibrating, he realized he couldn’t ignore it. 

“M’sorry,” he sat up causing Brooke to pull away as she groaned, laying on her side of the bed. Harry picked up his phone and Brooke had a little peek at who was texting him. He had changed your contact name from your name to your nickname ever since he started calling you ‘angel,’ and it’s been the same ever since. He loved it; it added a little flare and he would always smile when he sees your contact name pop up on his phone. 

“Does she always have to make an appearance at the worst times? Or in general?” She asked, but the last part was definitely muttered under her breath as Harry was too focused on reading your texts. Harry had sent out a text  a few hours after you left on Sunday, saying that he was sorry for being rude and practically slamming the door on you. You had texted back saying that it was okay, and that you were sorry for being rude to him too. There were no rude remarks towards him, but your tone had said otherwise, and you knew that you could’ve handled that conversation better. 

My Angel: Hi, H. I was wondering if you wanted to do some suit fittings before you leave to go back home or after? Let me know so I can tell Lambert and Harris. 

“Sorry. She’s just wondering if I’m available to do some suit fittings for the upcoming tour,” he said to Brooke before texting you back. 

H: Preferably after the holidays. We’ll do it right at the beginning of January. 

“Isn’t she your assistant? Why doesn’t she just schedule it already?” She asked cluelessly. 

It wasn’t like Brooke was stupid. No, she was smart. But there were some things that didn't click for her, which makes Harry and anyone have to explain things twice. She would usually have her assistant do everything for her without confirmation, and Brooke would just go with it.

“Well, I still have to approve of it, love. Can’t just book me without me knowing,” he chuckled slightly. 

My Angel: Okay, perfect. I scheduled the fitting for January 4th. That’s okay right? I know you’ll be back before New Years, so I just wanna make sure. 

He always loved how you were so cautious about everything. Sure, he wanted you to let loose sometimes and not take everything so seriously, but you two were a perfect team because you need to keep him in check sometimes, but you did let loose and have fun off the clock. 

H: Yeah, should be good. Thank you, angel. xx

My Angel: That’s what I’m here for! You don’t have anything scheduled for tomorrow before you leave. Do you wanna get some coffee before your flight? Say at 8?

He smiled down at your text. Brooke noticed, which made her furrow her eyebrows in confusion, so she started rubbing his back and his stomach as she tried getting a look at his text messages. Once she saw a bit of it, she climbed on Harry’s lap. 

“Do you want to get lunch tomorrow before you leave? I’m gonna miss you,” she pouted slightly, and Harry had only glanced up at her very briefly before looking back down at his phone as he was in the middle of responding to your question. 

H: Sure! That’d be great. The usual spot?

My Angel: Yes, the usual :) see you then, H! 

He grinned before locking his phone and placing it back on the bedside table. He looked up at Brooke who was impatiently waiting for him to give her attention as she had her arms crossed. 

“Well?” 

“Oh, sorry I’m actually getting coffee with Y/N,” he frowned slightly, somewhat feeling bad rejecting her offer. 

“You don’t wanna see me before you leave?” She asked in an annoyed tone, getting off his lap to sit beside him on the bed. 

“W-What?” He said in disbelief. “You’ve been sleeping over since Saturday. That’s why we planned for you to stay here until I leave right?” He stated obviously. They clearly talked about her sleeping over after their date on Saturday until he leaves to go back home for the holidays. So, he’s wondering if she’s missed something or she’s just acting like this to get a rise out of him. 

“You think four days is enough? You’re gonna be gone for two weeks until I have to see you again, and you would rather spend your time-” 

“Four days is a really long time! And I’m seeing you for New Years. I don’t understand where this is coming from,” Harry got off the bed and pulled on his boxers. 

“I’m just saying…she’s already your assistant. Why do you have to spend so much time with her?” Brooke asked as she got under the covers as she watched Harry pull on his sweatpants. 

“She’s also my best friend. Where is all of this coming from? Are you jealous or what?” She scoffed, rolling her eyes, and Harry furrowed his brows. 

“Please. Like I could ever be jealous of her. All I’m saying is that I just want to spend all the time I can get before you leave, or I can go with you back home…” she suggested, and Harry perked up. 

“What? You want to come with me?” She nodded eagerly as she smiled. 

“Yeah, why not? We can spend the holidays together, and it’ll be fun. What do you say?” She crawled over to the edge of the bed where Harry was standing, and she sat on her knees as she looked up. 

They’ve been dating for six months, and Harry hadn’t introduced her to his family. It wasn’t like he didn’t like her or he was embarrassed that he’s dating her, but that was a really big commitment that needed a lot of thought put into it. Meeting the family is just a big step for him, and although his family has met his previous partners, that was when they were still friends and not together. But with Brooke, it all happened so fast that his family had never met her when they were friends or hooking up. They obviously know he’s dating someone, but to bring them home? Especially on Christmas? He wasn’t ready for that. 

“Maybe some other time. I’ll talk to them to see if they want to come over here for my birthday or something,” he rejected her suggestion. Home was just something so vulnerable to him that he wouldn’t just bring anyone. 

Brooke sighed deeply, “Okay, I’ll hold you to that,” she said, impatient that she hasn’t met his family yet, but he’s met hers. “How about I come with you tomorrow morning to get coffee?” She looked at him as she pleaded with her eyes. 

He knew that you wanted to spend time with him before the holidays and he wanted to as well. But Brooke obviously wanted to see you as much as possible now that he’s denied her suggestion of coming home with him, but she had been sleeping over for the past four days, which Harry thinks is enough time. 

“I’m sorry, but no,” he said as it came out more like a question as he didn’t want to seem rude by saying no to her. Throughout the months of dating Brooke, he learned that she hates when people say no. Obviously, it’s fine when he says no to sex, but he could tell that it really frustrates her. “I haven’t seen her in a few days because I’ve been with you the whole time, so I think it’ll be good to catch up with her before I leave,” he smiled lightly, trying to make light of the room. 

“Sure. Have fun,” she said sarcastically before heading to the restroom. 

Harry sighed, grabbing his duffel bag from the closet before he started packing. He was simply just excited to see you tomorrow and his family over the holidays. 

21 December 2017

You waved over at Harry once you saw him standing at the entrance of the coffee shop. Harry walked over to you with a beaming grin as he looked incredibly handsome. He wore black circular sunglasses that sat on his nose, a blue hawaiian shirt with a gray t-shirt underneath as a brown coat was thrown over his body. He wore his famous black skinny jeans and his famous brown Yves Saint Laurent boots that you know he has a whole collection of. His hair looked amazing as he recently cut it a week ago, and it’s starting to grow out a bit as the ends of his hair started to curl. 

As he was close enough, you snapped yourself out of your trance of checking him out before you stood up, giving each other a hug and a cheek to cheek kiss. 

“How are you, angel?” He asked, taking his coat off before taking a seat, and setting his coat down on the chair next to him. 

“I’m good. I hope you don’t mind, but I went ahead and ordered for us. Should be out soon.” You had gotten Harry an iced black coffee, and despite the weather, he was always up for an iced beverage, especially when it came to his coffee; and you had ordered him a coffee cake--the coffee house’s specialty. 

“Of course not. Thank you. So, you’re going back home right?” He asked, placing his arms on the table. Right as he asked, the drinks and food had arrived and you waited for the barista to leave before you answered. 

“I might,” you said, taking a sip from the coffee mug. 

“What do you mean you might? Told me that you were going,” he furrowed his brows in confusion because you two had just had this conversation the other week, and you were excited to go back home. 

Home was in Oregon for you, and you moved out when you were eighteen to go to school in New York. It had always been your dream of moving to the big city, and although you loved Oregon, New York had made space for you to have a home as well. 

“I mean, I was. But you know how I’m saving to buy a house right? Well, flights are expensive, especially when it’s around this time,” you explained. 

“I can always-” 

“No, no. Before you go saying that you’re going to buy me a ticket, don’t even waste your breath because I’m not taking it,” you shook your head, and Harry chuckled. 

“C’mon, please? I know how excited you were to go back home. Don’t want you to be alone during the holidays,” he pouted as he cut into his coffee cake. 

“I told mom the situation, so they might come here for a change, but not definite yet--was just a suggestion. But honestly, I don’t think they will because it might be too late and all that, y’know how they are,” you chuckled, knowing how late your family will be if things happen last minute. “Don’t worry though. Glenne asked if I could take care of Penny, and I said yes if I’m not going home,” you said, smiling at the thought of the shih tzu that Glenne and Jeff own. 

“I mean, you can always come home with me,” he put it out there, and your eyes perked up. 

“W-What? No. I can’t do that.”

“Why not? It’s not like I would be buying you a plane ticket either. We’ll be using the jet,” he smiled lightly as if there were no meaning behind his words. 

“God, you just don’t know how rich you are--saying shit about your own fucking jet,” you teased, and he laughed loudly. 

“But really. Think about it. Mum would love to see you again and I know Gems has so much to catch you up on,” he said, taking a sip from his straw. 

You had met Anne and Gemma several times as they often visited sometimes or you would fly home with Harry and hang out with them while he’s working. They were a lovely family, if not, your second family, you would say. They were the kindest people you’ve ever met, and you’re so grateful that Harry was raised by great people surrounding him. 

“Really, H. Thank you, but I’m going to pass that up. I’ll probably just suck it up and buy a plane ticket,” you scoffed slightly at your indecisiveness. 

“Alright. Well, if you change your mind, which you have practically a day to figure it out, let me know and I’ll see what I could do with the jet going back here,” he said with a smile, wanting you to have choices rather than being stuck at home all alone during the holidays. 

“Thank you, Harry. I appreciate it.” 

The rest of the hours spent at the coffee spot was filled with conversation and laughter. Luckily, Brooke wasn’t one of the topics during your time together, and you were glad for it. Harry was also happy you didn’t mention Brooke either because he just wanted his mind to rest during his vacation, and not to say that he doesn’t like her, but it can be a bit stressful to communicate things with sometimes. 

“Oh, you have to head to the airport already,” you said, looking at your phone and realizing that he has about two hours to head to the airport. “Do you have everything packed?” You asked as you two stood up from your seats and put your coats on. Harry put on his sunglasses, hopefully a way to avoid the curious eye of the public. Luckily when you two were having coffee, no one approached him, but there were some looks made towards you two, but none of them walked up to the table. 

“Yeah, you have my shirts right?” 

“Yup. They’re in my car.” Once you two made it outside, you were parked on the curb and Harry’s car was about three cars behind you. You took Harry’s shirts out from the backseat that were folded very nicely and ironed. You had borrowed a couple of shirts from him when you would sleepover and had forgotten to give them back to him, but Harry said it was fine for you to keep until he needed them. “Alright, here you go. Don’t need anything else before you leave right?” 

“Actually, if you’re not busy doing anything, do you want to drop me off at the airport? I can call ahead of time and tell them that my driver isn’t going to take me, so we have access to the back,” he said with hopeful eyes. 

“Oh okay, sure,” you smiled softly. 

“Great,” he gave you a big smile before looking down at his phone, and you assumed he was texting Kyle, his driver, that he didn’t need to pick him up anymore. “Okay, I’ll see you at my place? I just have to get my shit.” 

“Okay, race you there! Wait, no, just kidding. Really, drive safe,” you chuckled, and Harry laughed. 

You met Harry at his house which was only about ten minutes from the coffee shop. His car was already in the driveway when you had pulled up, and you just decided to wait outside by your car for him, popping open the trunk. A few minutes later, Harry came out with his duffel bag, locking the door behind him. 

He put his stuff in the trunk before hopping into the passenger seat of your car, and you were off to the airport. 

Traffic was a bit heavy, but you made it just in time for Harry to check in and get settled without having to worry if he was late or not. You had pulled into an underground garage of the airport, and got out of the car as Harry got his stuff out from the trunk. 

“Guess I’ll see you on New Years?” You stood in front of Harry behind your car. He nodded before taking you into your arms. 

“Yeah, I’ll see you then. Let me know if you’re going back home or if you decide to join us,” he said into your ear as he hugged you tightly around your waist. Your arms were looped around his shoulders, giving him a warm squeeze. 

“I will. Have a safe flight, and text me when you land,” you said back into his ear. 

“Always do.” 

Both of you pulled away, but his touch had still lingered on your arm; raking his hand slowly down your arm as he walked away, and you had wished you weren’t wearing a coat with many layers underneath just so you could feel his hand on your bare skin. 

“Don’t miss me too much,” you teased. Harry turned around and smirked; the one that made your stomach do flips. 

“You know I will. Gonna miss me too?” He asked in return. 

“Always do, H. Always do,” you blew a kiss at him, and he caught it, placing his hand on his heart before walking through the doors. 

You sighed as you got into your car before pulling out of the garage and driving back home. 

It may seem a little peculiar on how you two ask towards one another despite him having a girlfriend, but it’s always been like that between you two. It all started when you were at a party right beside Harry, and a few friends of his went up to you two and asked when you two were going to get together. At that time, your heart stopped because you had just figured out that you had feelings for him. But Harry responded with “until she lets me,” and it was meant to tease you, but it had left you in confusion. 

Since then, you two would tease each other and somewhat act like you were together, but it had died down a tad bit ever since he’s gotten a girlfriend. And although Harry is a natural charmer, you two were best friends, so there was a tad bit platonic flirting between you two. 

But you wished that he would see past the best friend line and assistant line. 

31 December 2017 

The cold air from the room had made goosebumps rise onto your skin, although it seemed warm in the room from the crowd that was gathering rather quickly while the music started becoming louder, and chatter and laughs filled the room. 

You were talking with Glenne and observing the people around you at the same time; everyone was wearing their best attire for the new year, and you were as well. You were wearing a red silk dress that hugged you just right as the material in the back dropped to your mid back, showing almost the entirety of your back. You wore nude four inch heels, feeling like the height of your shoe was enough so you weren’t completely struggling to walk throughout the night. And your makeup was sparkling with gold colored eyeshadow and a red lip. You looked hot, and you knew it. 

One of Jeff’s friends had booked a hotel room on the top floor, literally right next to the ball drop, so everyone can just look out the window rather than going outside in the freezing weather. 

It was nice to dress up after being cozied up throughout Christmas. You had decided to go back home after all, buying your plane ticket right when you got home from dropping Harry off at the airport. It was a bit pricey because of the fact that you were buying the ticket a day before the scheduled time the flight is supposed to take off, and considering that it was the holiday season as well. But you had gotten a Christmas bonus unexpectedly, and everything worked out. 

You enjoyed your time with your family and getting to spend a week with them before you had to leave for New York again for New Years. 

You also hadn’t expected to receive a gift from Harry on Christmas morning when your mom was passing gifts out. With a confused expression, you took the big box from your mom’s hands that was wrapped in red and white festive wrapping paper with a bow on it. Once you opened it, you had softly gasped when you saw the items inside; it was all of your favorite things, including some extra items Harry had picked out for himself. He had gotten you a much bigger planner, for the next year, that will help for work, and you smiled, knowing that he had remembered you talking about how much you wanted the planner so badly. The box also contained some of your favorite snacks, little Knick knacks that reminded him of you, and a velvet rectangle box that held a small diamond pendant attached to a thin gold chain. 

It was absolutely stunning, and Harry must’ve spent a lot on it, but he didn’t mind. He thought it was going to look so beautiful on you, and it made you feel special that you were wearing something so meaningful from someone that means so much to you. 

The gold chain sat perfectly on your collarbones, and you hadn’t taken it off ever since you received it; only when you showered, but you put it right back on after. 

The volume of the room had increased, and you turned your head towards the door and found Harry walking in with a bright smile on his face, and of course, Brooke right alongside him with her arm looped with his. 

They looked absolutely stunning together as they walked inside the building as they greeted everyone with big smiles. They radiated perfection and luxury as everyone’s eyes were on them as if they were a piece of art hung up high in the gallery--worthy enough to be looked at. But your eyes were placed on one person in the room, and you so wished you were right beside him instead of her. 

The couple had made their way through the crowd when Harry spotted Jeff in the corner. With Harry leading the two of them with their hands interlocked together, they greeted Jeff and Glenne before Harry let go of Brooke’s hand to give you a hug. 

“Hey, angel,” he smiled, wrapping his arms around your waist as he slightly picked you up off the ground. His hands met the exposed skin of your back and he felt goosebumps rise onto your skin as his cool metal rings touched your skin. 

“Hi, H. How are you?” You asked against his ear and he set you down on your feet before pulling away. 

“Good, good. Missed you.” 

You blushed, “Miss you too. Also, thank you again for your present, it was so thoughtful and lovely.” 

“I’m so happy you liked it. Thank you for yours as well. I love it a lot,” he beamed as he looked down at you. You had given Harry three presents. The first one being a black soft leather journal with his initials engraved in the middle and spine of the journal in gold. The second gift was a manicure set because he recently started to paint his nails, so you wanted him to have all the tools and colors he needed. The third gift was a photo album of his success (you also threw in a couple of you and him). You told him that he can look at it anytime he wants, but it’s just a reminder of how proud you are of him and how far he’s gone; and you would be adding more in the future. It had made him tear up a bit as he found the gifts to be so sweet and sentimental of you. 

“Hi, Brooke,” you greeted with a small smile, and you saw her face beam as she hugged you, but you knew that it was definitely a fake one to put up an act in front of her boyfriend. 

“How are you, girl?! I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever!” She yelled over the loud music. 

“Good, thanks. How are you?” 

“Great! Did you see what Harry got me for Christmas?” She waved her arm out to show you the diamond bracelet that sat on her wrist. It was very beautiful, you had to admit. It was very Brooke, and you were glad Harry didn’t ask you for any help with trying to find her a Christmas present. 

“I’m gonna get another drink,” you excused yourself, not really wanting to be around her much longer as she smirked and tried to flaunt her gift in your face. But you didn’t let it get to you because you truly loved the gifts Harry had gotten you, and it made it extra special because he put so much thought into it. 

You made your way to the bar, downing the remains of your drink before asking the cute bartender for another one. 

“Having fun?” He asked with a smile as he set your drink down onto a black square napkin. 

“Sure, let’s just say that,” you chuckled sarcastically before throwing your head back to take the entire cup of alcohol down your throat. 

“Thanks,” you set the glass down before walking away. 

You wanted to go back to where Glenne was standing, but you had bumped into some friends that you had met through Jeff on your way, so you had to catch up with them and tell them everything that’s going on with you after they told you their whole life story. 

The hours to the new year went by pretty quickly. You ended up hanging out with a few friends and going outside with them to have a smoke. The alcohol and weed had eased you, and you actually had a really fun time with them. The idea of Brooke clinging onto Harry had left your mind and you loosened up, smiling and dancing along with drinking. 

There were five minutes left until midnight, and everyone was gathered next to the window that overlooked Times Square. The volume in the room was loud as everyone screamed and laughed—excited for the new year. 

You were standing next to Harry, and of course Brooke on the other side of him. Glenne and Jeff were on the left of Brooke, and both of the couples had their arms around each other as the only thing you were holding was a glass of tequila as you didn’t have anyone to celebrate the new year with. 

“Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven! Six!” Everyone chanted, and you chuckled, laughing at your loneliness when there were so many people around you. Your eyes watered up, crossing your arms as you looked at the shining lights through the window.

“Five! Four! Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!” The sounds of cheers and party horns erupted in the room as people took each other against their lips. 

You slightly glanced right next to you and saw Harry and Brooke kissing lovingly as she smiled into the kiss, along with Jeff and Glenne. 

You turned away, looking out at the window as you raised your glass. “Cheers,” you whispered to yourself before throwing your head back and consuming your tequila shot. 

Everyone was so consumed in one another that nobody noticed the tears streaming down your face as the loneliness you had felt physically and mentally took over. 

4 January 2018 

Harry was standing on the elevated box in front of a mirror. He was wearing a sparkly pink suit with gold lining on the seams, along with a gold shirt with a pussybow. Harry Lambert was behind up, straightening out the jacket. 

You had sat on the couch of the large private dressing room as you observed. Harry looked at you through the mirror, giving you no emotion. You smiled, but he didn’t smile back; only looking away and taking his attention on the suit. You furrowed your brow, confused as to why he was looking at you like that and so coldly. 

You stood up, walking over to him. “It looks great, H.” 

“Thanks,” he said quickly. 

“Think you can dance in it?” You teased as you smirked, trying to add some sort of lightness to see if his cold looks were accidental. 

“Pretty sure,” his tone was very short, and your smirk fell. 

“Wait right here. Just need to get something really quick for the pants,” Harry Lambert said before walking out of the dressing room. 

There was a moment of silence, and Harry pulled on the suit jacket so it sits nicely on him. By this point, he would’ve asked for your opinion and for some reassurance because sometimes he needs those extra words that tell him it doesn’t look too much or weird on him. But you got silence. 

“Is everything okay?” You asked warily. 

“Yeah.” 

“You sure?” You still weren’t convinced enough. 

“Yes, now can you please stop asking me? Fuck,” He rolled his eyes, voice slightly raised. 

“What is your problem?” Your brows furrowed. 

“What my problem is, is that you won’t leave me the fuck alone nor would you stop talking. I’m just trying to do some fittings, but you wouldn’t stop talking,” he huffed. He didn’t even turn around, just kept looking at himself in the mirror. 

You scoffed, grabbing your bag from off the couch. “Don’t fucking ask me to come with you if you didn’t want me here.” You headed for the exit before turning around at the last second. “And next time, look me in the eye and tell me that shit,” you said before you completely exit the building and head towards your apartment. 

You’ve never been so annoyed before, and that says a lot because you deal with a lot of people from the industry and Brooke. You didn’t know what came over him because he’s never talked to you like that nor has he raised his voice at you. With utter confusion, you sat on your couch, taking off your shoes for the day since you didn’t have any other work to do for the day, and you thought going with him to his fitting was a waste of time if he was going to act all pissy on you. 

Only moments later, you heard a knock on your door, and you immediately knew it was Harry probably coming by to tell you that he was sorry and he didn’t mean to say those words. But words are words and despite not meaning to say them, they still came out meaning that he was thinking it. But since this was Harry, the kindest human you’ve ever met, you opened the door because he’s your best friend and you deserve an apology. 

Huffing, you opened the door to find Harry standing on your doorstep with his head down and a slight frown to his face. Without saying anything, you moved to the side, opening the door wider for him to walk through, which he does. You walk over to the couch and take a seat; Harry sitting on the other side. The fact that you weren’t saying anything was killing him, but he doesn’t blame you. You crossed your arms as you waited for him to say something, and he inhaled deeply before he spoke. 

“I’m sorry for what I said back there. I shouldn’t have taken all my anger out on you because you don’t deserve that whatsoever. You were just trying to make sure I was okay, and I really appreciate that,” he resented himself for acting that way towards you. His eyes were red and he looked quite sad, and you want to know what made him originally feel this way. 

“Why were you so mad to begin with?” You asked curiously, and he sighed as you brushed away his apology. 

“Brooke and I have been fighting--ever since New Years. She claimed that I was always hanging out with you and that I left her at the party to be with you, but that’s not true right? I feel like I barely saw you during the party,” his brows furrowed in confusion. He was right; you barely even hung out with him during New Years because you were some other friends, and the only time you really spoke to him was when he arrived and after the countdown, but that was it. 

“Why is she so…” you trailed off, not wanting to sound so offensive towards his girlfriend. 

“You can say it.” 

“Possessive? Obsessive? Threatened by me? I mean I get that you’re her boyfriend, but I haven’t done anything to trigger that, have I?” You tilted your head as if you were thinking. You were never the one to steal someone’s boyfriend because that wasn’t any of your business; no matter how much you liked that person. But your attitude towards Harry was very much best friend-like. You miss him on days when you don’t see him, you give him big hugs when you reunite, you give each other friendly kisses on the cheek in a way to say ‘thanks,’ but it was never meant to steal him away from her. 

“No, you haven’t. I don’t know… I feel like she’s always had this problem with you because you’re my best friend, but also assistant--the closest person to me. I always tell her that she has nothing to worry about, but she doesn’t trust me for some reason.” 

“I’m sorry, H,” you said, placing your hand on his knee in a way to comfort him. He placed his hand right over yours in a way to say ‘thank you for understanding.’ 

“I should be the one apologizing. You didn’t do anything wrong. I really am sorry for how coldly I acted towards you,” he softly smiled, and you gave him one back. 

“It’s okay. Was it unnecessary? Yes. But it was one time,” you forgave him. 

“You’re the best. But I should get going to finish up the fittings,” he said, standing up from the couch. You stood up, walking him to the door. “I’ll see you?” You nodded, giving him a big hug. He embraced you with both arms as he squeezed tightly before he walked out the door. You figured there was no point in going with him since he only has a couple of suits to try on, so you stayed back. 

About thirty minutes later, your phone vibrated. Seeing Harry’s contact name, you smiled to yourself. 

H: Attachment: 2 images 

How do these look?

You chuckled. He had sent you mirror pictures, holding up a peace sign as he was in a sparkly blue suit. 

My Angel: You look like Cinderella lmao

I love it!

Harry smiled. He was about to text you some silly joke about being Prince Charming while you’re the princess, but he heard a voice at the door, making him stop what he was doing. 

“Hey, babe!” Harry looked up and saw Brooke walk in. His eyes widened as he turned around, and she gave him a kiss. 

“W-What are you doing here?” He asked, confused. 

“Jeff said you’d be here, so I decided to surprise you!” She said cheerfully, holding his hands. 

“O-Oh, I’m very surprised,” he chuckled nervously. He didn’t really know why he was nervous, but possibly the fact that if he hadn’t snapped at you, then you would still be in the room, which would have raised questions and yet another argument with Brooke. 

“I figured after you’re finished, we could get an early dinner and you could come back to my place?” She suggested. “Think we need to talk about some things.” 

“Yeah, that sounds good. I have about two more suits, so you can wait outside-”

“Silly! No, I’ll wait here,” she took a seat on the couch you were just sitting on thirty minutes ago. He nodded without saying anything before he proceeded on to his next suit. 

You looked down at your phone on Harry’s message thread, waiting for his reply. You saw the text bubbles pop up and you smiled, waiting for him to say some corny joke, but they went away. You waited for a moment, so they could pop back up, but they didn’t. So, you shrugged, locking your phone, and wondering if he got caught up in something, so he couldn’t reply. 

1 February 2018

It was Harry’s birthday and the crowd was rolling in. 

He decided he wanted to spend his birthday in Los Angeles since most of his friends are there anyways. Plus, it’s a small get together before the tour starts next month and then he would be all over the place. He wanted a semi small party at his house, nothing too crazy, he just wanted everyone he cares about at the party. Anne and Gemma flew in the day before to join in on the fun, and you were excited to see them because you missed them like crazy. 

“Angel! This party is great! Thank you for keeping it so nice and small,” Harry said, giving you a hug. He also handed you your favorite drink, which is a whiskey on the rocks. 

“I’m happy you like it, birthday boy,” you smiled as you watched everyone gather into his Malibu house. There were about thirty people in total that were on the guest list, only adding people Harry was close to.

“Ah, there’s mum and Gem. Let’s say hi,” he told you, and you excitedly smiled, walking towards the door. 

“Mum!” Harry called out, and Anne’s eyes lightened up. 

“Oh, my baby! Happy birthday, my love,” she kissed his cheeks as he hugged her. 

“Hi, Gems,” he greeted his sister, also giving her a hug. 

“Happy birthday baby brother. One more year and you’ll be a quarter of a century,” she joked, and Harry chuckled. 

“Ha ha, very funny. I’m so happy you guys are-” 

“Y/N? Is that you? Oh my god, come here you!” Anne interrupted Harry once she saw you. Her eyes widened and she was smiling like crazy as you walked towards her, giving her a lovely hug. “Oh, darling. It’s been a while since I saw you!” 

“Yeah, it really has been. You both still look so amazing,” you said, giving Gemma a hug. 

“Please, you’re too sweet to us. How have you been? Don’t want to quit just yet because of this one?” Anne joked, nudging Harry as he playfully rolled his eyes. 

“Heyyy,” his brows furrowed, and Anne pinched his cheek. 

“I’ve been good. And not yet. Give me about five months and we’ll get back to this conversation,” you joked back, looking at Harry to see him frowning. You looped your arm around his waist, giving him a hug, and he stopped frowning; his face turning into a small smirk. 

“Let’s definitely catch up later. I’m going to say hi to Jeff and Glenne. Be right back,” Anne said before walking through the crowd, Gemma following her. 

You and Harry were alone again as you two sipped on your drinks. Some people said hi to them, but not making conversation for too long as they wanted to get another drink or food. 

“Is Brooke here? Haven’t seen her,” you asked curiously. Harry’s face dropped, and you looked at him confusingly. 

“Oh, fuck,” he pinched the top of his nose as he looked down, shaking his head. 

“What?” 

“I totally forgot she was coming,” he said, and you fought the urge to laugh. 

“How did you forget your own girlfriend?” 

“I don’t know--I was just so focused on the tour and this party that it slipped my mind that she was coming,” he sighed. 

“Oh okay. What’s so bad about her being here?” You wondered. 

“That means she’s gonna meet mum and Gem.” Your mouth formed an ‘o’ as if realization struck you, and Harry nodded his head as if he was saying ‘yeah, that’s why.’ 

“Better prepare for that because I could already hear her laugh,” you placed your hand on his shoulder, patting it. Harry took a deep breath and downed the rest of his drink before he walked over to the entrance. You chuckled as he did so as you found it amusing that he had to do that to deal with her. 

After you heard her squeal, which meant that Harry had gone up to her already. You started walking towards the entrance door, and you saw them hugging; she then started jumping and kissing him, whispering into his ear and biting her lip as he gave her a smirk. 

As you watched from the sidelines, your heart started to ache. You wished that it was you instead of her. You wished you could whisper all things sweet and dirty into his ear as he looked at you with a smirk before biting his lip. You wanted him to give you the same smile he gave her, although you were starting to see less and less of that smile. You wanted what she had. 

But you would never get that. 

“Hey, you,” Gemma sneaked you from behind you, causing you to slightly jump. “Sorry,” she chuckled. 

“It’s okay. What’s up?” You smiled, trying to hide the pain in your eyes. 

“You’re not going to tell him, huh?” 

“Tell who what?” You raised your eyebrows, pretending to be oblivious. Gemma gave you a knowing look as she raised her eyebrows. 

“You know what. Not gonna tell him at all?” You sighed, shrugging your shoulders as you turned your head back to them. They were posing for some pictures with their arms around each other’s waists. They took a couple: smiling ones, funny ones, and even a kissing one. You turned your head back to Gemma once they started to kiss for a picture, and she softly smiled at you. 

“There’s no point. He’s with Brooke, and it’s not like he’s ever going to like me or get with me,” you sadly explained. Gemma looked at you as if you were totally wrong. “If he’s happy with Brooke, then why would I ruin that for him because of my selfish reasons?” 

“It’s not selfish for wanting to tell someone you love-”

“I don’t love him,” you immediately interrupted. 

“Y/N…c’mon,” she raised her eyebrows, knowing you’re completely wrong. 

“Okay…” you sighed in defeat, and she chuckled, continuing what she was saying. 

“You’ve known him for what, two years? That man makes sure you’re a priority. He makes sure you’re happy. If you could hear the stories he tells us and how he talks about you, you would think otherwise,” she stated before taking a sip of her drink. 

You stay quiet for a moment and think. Was there any way that Harry could have possibly liked you? There’s no way. You hadn’t noticed anything different about his behavior in the past two years you’ve known and worked for him. So, there was no way he could’ve liked you. And you know you’re only telling yourself that now, so you don’t lose your shit at his birthday party. 

“W-What does he say about me?” 

“Maybe you’ll know some time in the future if you tell him,” she challenged, and you rolled your eyes, causing Gemma to laugh. 

After Harry and Brooke managed to get away from the entrance, you and Gemma saw them walking towards you both. 

“Y/N, hi!” She greeted you with a not so surprising high pitched tone; only because Harry is right next to her. She also gave you a hug, which you only put in half the effort like always. Harry smiled at both of you, and she let go. 

“Gems, where’s mum?” He asked his sister. 

“Think she might be in the back,” she replied, looking at Brooke for a brief moment before looking back at Harry. 

“This is Brooke,” he introduced his girlfriend. 

“Hi! It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Brooke said with a big smile on her face, giving Gemma a hug. Polite as Gemma is, she hugged back. 

“You too,” Gemma simply said. 

“Should we go to the back and find mum? Brooke wants to meet her,” Harry asked, and Gemma nodded before walking towards the backyard. 

You stayed back, realizing that you weren’t needed and you didn’t have any business following them for Brooke to meet Anne. So, you walked over to the kitchen to grab a plate of cheese and crackers. Since the kitchen was right next to the large doors that led to the backyard, you looked up and saw Brooke jumping up and down slightly as she greeted Anne with a hug. You saw Anne smiling, hugging her back before they pulled away and started talking. Harry looked at them so fondly as they spoke. 

“Hey,” a voice next to you had startled you, making you slightly jump, taking your attention away from what’s happening in the backyard. Luckily, not dropping any of your food. 

“Hi,” you said back to the man you don’t know. 

“I’m Alex. One of Jeff’s friends. I don’t believe we’ve met yet,” he shook your hand, smiling. 

“I don’t think we have. I’m Y/N,” you nicely said back. 

“So, how do you know Harry?” He asked, grabbing a grape. 

“I’m his assistant, and best friend.” 

“Oh, shit! Special person I’m talking to, right here,” he smirked. Alex was cute and very attractive, but it wasn’t the same kind of smirk that you’ve been in love with for two years. 

“Hardly,” you scoffed before giving him a small smile as a way to tell him you’re somewhat joking. 

“Hey, don’t sell yourself short. By any chance, you want to go somewhere to sit and talk?” He proposed hopefully. It wasn’t a bad idea whatsoever. You needed to make new friends and possibly make some new connections. You also didn’t want to depend on Harry all the time when you wanted to talk to someone because he’s busy, and his girlfriend doesn’t like you. So, you nodded. 

“Yeah, I’d like that.” He smiled, leading you to a more quiet area of the house, which was the sitting area. 

Meanwhile as you were chatting with Alex, Harry watched Brooke interact with Anne with a smile, but he still felt a weird feeling in his chest, like he’s happy about it, but he’s still wary. He brushed that feeling off, looking around and wondering where you were--if you’re having a great time. He turned his head towards the kitchen, and saw you talking to Alex. Smiles were placed on both your faces, and Harry frowned. He knew Alex was charming him up because that’s what he does. Alex technically wasn’t a bad guy, and Harry’s known him for a few years. He was nice, attractive, and can charm the shit out of someone just like Harry. But the sight and thought of seeing him actually charm you did not sit well with him. It really didn’t sit well once he saw you following him out of the kitchen. 

Harry took deep breaths, trying not to let the thought of you possibly enjoying hanging out with Alex as he carried on with his birthday night. 

6 February 2018

A deep sigh was let out once you sat in your seat on the plane. 

It was cold in Los Angeles and you knew the flight back to New York was going to be a bumpy one considering the weather in both cities, so you dressed comfortably, wearing grey sweatpants, a black sweatshirt, and some white sneakers. Your headphones had been plugged into your ears ever since you were cleared at TSA. 

As you got comfortable in your seat, Harry sat next to you, sighing. You obviously didn’t hear it because your headphones were in, but you definitely heard it the second time when he did it louder. You didn’t do anything, just browse on your phone until he dramatically sighed again, even louder this time. 

“What?” You said, taking your headphones out. 

“Why are you ignoring me?” He immediately asked, and your brows furrowed. 

“Ignoring you? Why would you think that?” 

“Well, for starters, you haven’t really spoken to me since my birthday. What’s up with that?” 

“Well, I didn’t really have to, did I?” There was no reason for your somewhat sarcastic tone and it’s not like you weren’t mad at him or anything, but you were exhausted from flying back and forth, plus doing your job. It’s not like you were ungrateful, but sometimes, you just needed a break, and that included, not talking to anyone. 

“You could’ve just answered my texts saying you were okay and that you weren’t going to be on your phone,” he scoffed, and you knew he was right. You were about to say you were sorry until he muttered something else. “Too busy with Alex, I see.” 

“What?” You asked in disbelief, knowing he said what you heard, but wanted to clarify. 

“You were, right?”

“What does this have to do with Alex?” You were starting to grow frustrated. 

“I mean, I saw you two at my party, and you two left together and stuff. So, you were probably busy for the entire week,” he said casually, scrolling through his phone as if you weren’t fuming right next to him. 

“It was one night-”

“Are you saying you had sex with him?” He turned his head towards you with raised eyebrows. He had this look on his face that told you he knew everything, but he just wanted to hear you say it. So, you did. 

“Yeah. So what if I fucked him? Is there something wrong with that? Didn’t get a little birthday sex? Don’t worry, I had some for you!” You tried containing your yells, but it came out like a loud whisper. Luckily there weren’t that many people on the plane; only the people who flew first class. 

It was true. When Alex had suggested talking, you found out that he was a very nice and funny guy. The night was getting late, and you said you were going to head home (which was a hotel), so he offered to drive you since you took an Uber, and that led to you inviting him up to your room and him gladly saying yes. It all happened so quick. You had immediately kissed him once you closed the door, and that led to him taking both of your clothes off before he fucked you. It was average sex, but you had fun considering that it’s been a while since you’ve had someone fuck you. That morning he left, telling you to text him, but you hadn’t and you don’t know if you will.

Harry stayed quiet, looking back down at his phone, and you shook your head, sitting correctly, and looking out the window, knowing that this was going to be a long flight. 

Just as you knew, the ride was bumpy, raising your fear and anxiety as you held onto yourself for dear life. You turned your music up, put your hands into your sweater, and crossed your arms in a way to calm you down and feel like someone is holding onto you. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on the songs until you felt a hand on your arm. You opened your hands, and saw Harry with his eyes closed, but you knew he wasn’t sleeping. He had always held your hand when you two would fly together and there was turbulence. It was something he did that made you feel safe and comfortable during the flight. 

You smiled softly, taking his hand in with your as you shifted closer to his seat despite the middle console in between you two. For the rest of the flight, you weren’t as scared. 

Once you two landed, Harry’s driver was immediately outside in the designated area, and you two were taken back to your place before there was any cause of commotion at the airport. Harry helped you with your bags, walking to your front door. 

“Hey, I’m sorry for everything on the plane,” he said as you looked for your keys in your purse. 

“It’s okay. I’m sorry too--for not replying to you and for snapping at you on the plane as well,” you said back. “Can I just ask why you were so...angry I was with Alex?” You wondered. 

“I…uh,” he stumbled over his words, trying to find the right thing to say without it coming out like he was a jealous prick. “Just...Alex is known for charming the shit out of you, so he could sleep with you, but seeing as you already slept with him…” 

“Harry, isn’t it my job to decide who I can and can’t sleep with? I get that you want to look out for me, but just let me decide that, alright?” You said softly, and he nodded. 

“Think I was jealous,” he blurted out, and he immediately closed his mouth and widened his eyes once he said that because he really didn’t mean to. 

“W-Why?” You looked at him concerningly, and Harry took a deep breath because now he had make up an answer because god knows what the truth is. 

He took a step forward, looking at you so intently. You felt like he was staring you down, but you didn’t look away as you were so lost in his eyes that it physically made it difficult to even glance the other way.

Next thing you knew, he was inches away from you, glancing down to your lips and back up to your eyes. You held your breath as you looked up at him, looking extra close at the pinkness of his lips. Your chests were pressed so close against one another that you were sure he could feel your heart pounding through his. It was so loud that it rang through your ears—so loud you couldn’t hear anything else except for the constant chanting in your head screaming ’Harry, Harry, Harry.’ It was Harry that you wanted to kiss so badly. It was Harry who’s lips you could touch in an instant if you were to just lift your feet. It was Harry. It always has been. 

But you couldn’t.

Brooke.

You immediately stepped away from him as your eyes looked down, finally away from Harry. “I’m sorry-”

“No, I’m sorry-”

“Because Brooke, and-”

“Yeah…” 

You nodded, not sure what to do next, but seeing as you were still outside of your door, you finally got your keys out, and unlocked it. 

“Well, I’ll see you.” 

“Yeah, I’ll text you,” he said as he started walking backwards away from your apartment. 

You nodded. “Yup. Bye.” He waved, turning around and walking down the hall. 

Walking into your space and bringing your luggage in, you sighed as you closed the door. It was completely silent as your mind was racing and your heart was beating. 

What the fuck just happened and what the fuck was that?

3 March 2018

The first show of Harry’s tour was kicking off, and you were excited for him. He was slightly nervous and jittery, but that was expected. 

The ‘moment’ you two had when you came back from Los Angeles after your birthday was past you two. Although, you still think about it way too often, Harry seemed like he didn’t want to talk about it, so you respected that and didn’t bring it up. Besides, what was there to talk about anyways?

The first show started in Basel, Switzerland and you were very stoked. You’ve never been to any of the countries he’s going to play in besides London and some cities in the states, so it was going to be an adventure for you. For his very first tour that included small venues, you rarely went to any of the shows, so to say you were excited was an understatement. 

You were with Harry Lambert, looking at the first show suit in the stylist room. It was a Gucci black sparkly suit with gems on the lapel. You hadn’t seen this particular suit on him yet because you weren’t at the fitting the day he tried it on, but you absolutely loved it. It gave everyone just a hint of what the rest of the suits for the tour will look like. 

“Har—oh,” Brooke had entered the room, assumingly looking for Harry, but was disappointed when she saw you. “Have you seen Harry?” 

“Uh, I haven’t. He might be out on the stage,” you said honestly, and she nodded, turning around. But before she could exit the room, you called her, “Hey, Brooke.” She turned around, rolling her eyes. “I just kind of want to mend things between us. I feel like there has always been some sort of tension ever since we met, and seeing that you’ve been around for long and might be around for even longer, we should be civil towards one another.” 

“Well, obviously there has been. You’re trying to steal my boyfriend,” she said straightforwardly, and you raised your eyebrows, looking at Lambert. He was looking at Brooke with a not so friendly look, knowing that you would never do that despite knowing that you were in love with him. “I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again. You will never get Harry. He’s in love with me, not you. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re trying to do. You will never be enough for him because you’re just his assistant. That’s all you are to him. Don’t think you’re more than that, okay?” She said with a smile, and you bit your lip, not wanting to argue with her. 

There was something about her words that really got to you, and you think that’s because she’s actually dating Harry and has managed to weave her way into his heart.

“I’d hate to continuingly have to tell you this, but I think the first time was enough, right? Now you’ve made me tell you twice,” she continued as she scoffed. “Anyways, I need to go find my boyfriend,” she turned around but suddenly stumbled back as she was met with Harry. “Oh, Harry. I was just looking-”

“Don’t even speak right now,” his eyes were dark and he was angry. 

It wasn’t like you to see Harry so often considering that he sometimes deals with rude fans and pushy paps, but he was mad. 

“I-”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now? Trying to degrade my best friend and assistant?” 

“Har-”

“We need to talk,” he told her, leaving the room. She turned around to look at you with sad eyes, but you simply couldn’t help her, not like you would anyways. She followed him, and the room was left with a weird tension that needed to be cut with a knife.

“Well, wasn’t that interesting,” Lambert said. 

After about thirty minutes, Harry walked back into the room. He stayed complete silent and started undressing to get into his suit since there was thirty minutes left until he had to go on. You and Lambert looked at each other, not knowing if you two should say anything, but decided to keep your mouths shut and let him get ready. 

Once he was dressed, he thanked Lambert and walked out of the room; once again with the same tension being in the air. You walked out as well as you debated whether or not to talk to him, but you saw him and the band gathering together, so you figured you could just talk to him after. 

The show had finally started, and the band was going out on stage. The crowd was roaring like crazy as the anticipation of seeing Harry was finally coming to an end. Once the band was fully equipped, Harry started to climb up the stairs. Around the stage it was dark as the beginning of ‘Only Angel’ started to play. You turned on your flashlight on your phone, and called out for him.

“Harry!” He turned around, holding the railings of the stairs, and his expression was normal; no smile or anything.  “Goodluck out there!” Once you had said that, the corners of his lips turned up as his mouth turned into a soft smirk. 

“Thanks, angel,” he said before pointing up as a way to say ‘listen to the song.’ “This is for you,” he quickly told you, running up the stairs and to the stage before the big circular screen rose up. 

You watched the rest of the show from the side of the stage, not too far away from the front of the pit. He was spectacular on stage; he truly belonged there. He charmed the crowd, made them laugh, scream, cry, and dance their hearts out for an hour and a half, and you were truly amazed. The atmosphere of the venue was insane, loving every second of it. 

Once he finished with ‘Kiwi,’ he said his goodnights to Switzerland before running off the stage and meeting the band, talking about how crazy and fun the first show was. He told everyone that it’s only going to get better from here, and everyone nodded and high fived excitedly. 

After a few minutes, Harry walked to his dressing room to cool off, and you followed behind him. It may seem as clingy, but you were concerned for your best friend. A lot went down with Brooke in just a few minutes, and you wanted to know if he was okay, despite not showing any signs of sadness or anger on stage. 

You knocked on his dressing room door and opened it before you heard ‘come in.’ Harry looked up, and saw you peek your head through the door, and he gestured you to come in all the way, which you did. 

“That was an amazing show, H,” you complimented. 

“You watched?” He asked surprisingly. 

“Yeah, didn’t miss a moment. I was on the side of the stage.” 

“Oh, well. Thank you,” he said. 

There was a moment of silence as you tried to form your words on how to go about talking to him about what had happened before the show. 

“I-I just wanted to ask if you were okay?” You started. He took a seat on his couch as you stayed standing up in front of him. “I’m sorry for what happened before the-”

“Why are you saying sorry?” He asked, looking up at you as if he was genuinely asking. 

“I...I don’t know what happened with Brooke, but if something did happen then I’m sorry,” you nervously. The only reason why you were so nervous was because you hoped that he didn’t get mad at you for whatever happened with her. 

“You didn’t do anything, angel. You did nothing wrong at all,” he sighed, and you stayed quiet as there was definitely more of what he wanted to say. “But I did break up with her.” Your brows raised at that, and you fought the urge to jump and cheer. 

“Y-You did?” 

“Yeah. I kind of wanted to a few weeks ago, but I never got the chance to. But before the show, she gave me another perfectly good reason why we shouldn’t be together, so I ended it.” There wasn’t a hint of sadness on his face as he told you. 

“What were the other reasons?” You hadn’t known that he wanted to break up with her before the events that happened today. You would expect him to talk to you about it, but you weren’t hurt by it. 

“I…” he cut himself off, and you waited patiently to see if he was going to say something. After a few more seconds, you saw him debate with himself to see if he actually wanted to tell you, and you wondered if he trusted in that sense; to talk to you and tell you things that were on his mind, but you didn’t want to get into it with him. 

“Are you okay?” You asked instead, truly wanting to make sure. 

“I should be asking you that.” 

“No-”

“Angel, c’mon. Behind closed doors, I didn’t know half the shit she was saying to you. I told her to fess up everything she’s done to you, and she did. Let me tell you, I was not happy at all that you had to deal with that without me knowing. And that fact that she lied to me about asking you to hang out and pretending to be nice to you--no wonder why you didn’t want to hang out with her.” 

The first time you had hung out with her was when you had to pick up some lunch and dry clean for Harry. They had only been dating for two months, so you thought it was best to get to know her since you were Harry’s best friend. You asked if Brooke wanted to go, and she hesitantly said sure, but when Harry thought that was a great idea, she perked up to it and said yes. When you two were in line for lunch she had asked you the basics of your job before rudely interrupting you and telling you that she knew that you were in love with him. Before you could even deny, she wasn’t having it and told you that you weren’t good enough for him and that you were only hired because you were Glenne’s friend. You were quite devastated after that and you faced Harry everyday with a smile on your face, but with the lingering thought of her words in the back of your mind. 

“Yeah, she wasn’t my particular number one person to hang out with,” you said sadly, and Harry sighed, standing up. He walked closer to you, and it felt like that time when you got home from the airport, and placed his hands on your shoulders. 

“Her talking shit about you was the last straw. Can’t have anyone talk to you like that, ever,” he said while looking into your eyes as if he was trying to convince you. 

“I am really sorry that you had to go through a break up though--especially on your first night of tour. Plus, it was your first serious relationship you’ve had in a while,” you felt bad because no one should go through the pain of a breakup. 

“It’s alright. Wasn’t in love with her like she said--didn’t even say those words to her. And it was her idea of wanting to meet my family. I was still wary about it, but that was one of the subjects for most of our arguments,” he sighed. “But I’m gonna be much happier without her. Felt like I was always stressed out around her,” he chuckled, causing you to as well. “But if anyone that I know talks to you like that ever again, please don’t hide that from me. I hate knowing that you were taking all of that shit, especially for months.” You nodded your head and he gave you a smile. 

He pulled you in for a hug and you wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head on his chest. You two stayed like that for a moment as you both felt like it’s been a while since you two has had one of these hugs. All thoughts and worries flew out of your head--not thinking about when the next time you’ll have one of these types of hugs again, and you felt safe in his arms. 

And you cherished it. 

30 March 2018

Tour was going by rather quickly as the first ten shows were already done with. 

You were able to see some beautiful sightings of the countries with Lambert and some of the band, and throughout that time, you had wished Harry was with you all, but for obvious reasons, he couldn’t be out in public so casually. 

Everything you’ve seen was so beautiful and your jaw dropped everytime you would look at a tall and high building, or the skyline of the entire city. You were quite amazed. 

Now, everyone was in Barcelona, and it was by far one of your favorite cities that you’ve visited. You loved the atmosphere and the ambiance that walking through the streets of Spain had placed a beaming grin onto your face. You were only staying for a couple of days before everyone had to pack up and head to Madrid, but you made sure to snap a mental and physical photo to remember your time in Spain. 

But rather than spending your day on the streets, roaming around the beautiful city, you were currently looking for Harry because Lambert was also looking for him, and of course, you decided to help find him. You pretty much checked every room backstage besides the bathroom, and you didn’t really think to check the restroom, but he might be in there, so you made your way towards it. 

“Oh! Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to barge in,” you said once you entered the restroom. 

The sight before you had made you sweat. A series of butterflies made its appearance in your stomach, making your hands shake. The slightest bit of air from swinging the door open had made chills rise onto your skin, but you knew that it was because of the beautiful man in front of you. 

You had walked in on Helene taking pictures of Harry, possibly so he could post them on Instagram. But he was candidly looking into the mirror as he sprayed on his Tom Ford Tobacco Vanille cologne; the one that you had picked up for him multiple times, and the one that you think smells amazing, specifically on him. He strutted around like it was made for him, and it was honestly your favorite scent. His suit was a custom Palomo black and white checkered sequined suit that just looked fucking good on him. 

“No worries, sweetheart. Just about finished. He’s all yours,” she winked at you before heading out of the bathroom. 

“What’s up, angel?” 

“Just wanted to tell you that Lambert is looking for you. Said he needed to fix up a stitch really quick before you go on stage,” you said, not meeting his eyes. 

“Is that all?” He asked, sensing your nerves, and he knew that it was possibly from walking in on him, doing a mini photoshoot because he knew he looked good. 

You gulped, “Y-Yeah.”

“You don’t sound too sure,” he challenged, walking closer to you, but not too close as there was a bit of space between you two. 

“Uh-”

“Tell me,” he shifted even closer, making you nervous. You didn’t know where the sudden outbreak of him being somewhat flirtatious as he demanded you to tell him came from, but the sound of his raspy and deep voice, and the way he was looking was making you act up as you were about to confess your feelings towards him. 

You figured it was time as you felt like he sensed that kind of vibe from you, plus Brooke mentioning that you were in love with him, which you think you’re pretty sure he heard, but you’re wondering why he hasn’t 

“I-I want to tell you something, and this may potentially ruin things between us, but-”

“There you are!” The sound of someone else’s voice in the room and the banging of the room had interrupted you, and you and Harry stepped back from one another. “Everything okay here?” Lambert asked, looking at both of you and practically feeling the tension. Once you two nodded, not looking at each other, he looked at you both suspiciously before continuing. “Anyways, come with me. I need to fix something,” Lambert walked out of the restroom as Harry followed him, not giving you another look. 

You turned around to look in the mirror, sighing to yourself as you shook your head. 

Well, guess that’s not happening right now, you thought. 

Watching Harry up on stage was something you would never get used to. You made sure to never miss a show as you watched from the side, and since he knows where you stand during the show, he always makes sure to go to that side of the stage and wave to you. But seeing him on stage was different every night. His performances and conversations with the crowd were always different and that’s what made them and him so entertaining. 

Once the show was over, he made his way off the stage and to the dressing room. He talked a bit with the band, as they always did right when the show ends, to talk about their favorite moments and which songs they needed to work on for rehearsals. After that, Harry walked to his dressing room and you would follow every single time. 

“Another great show, H. Never get tired of watching you,” you said once you entered the dressing room.

“Thanks, angel. Always feel like I’m on a high when I’m trying to cool down, like I just have so much energy to perform another hour,” he chuckled, wiping some sweat off his forehead. 

“That must be exhilarating--being up there every night for your fans,” you walked towards him to stand in front of him as he leaned on the table of the vanity. 

“Yeah, it really is,” he smiled. He pulled your arm towards him and wrapped his arms around your waist, giving you a hug. You were surprised by the sudden affection, but Harry was an affectionate type of guy, and really, you didn’t mind being close to him. Plus, he seemed extra needy since he recently just broke up with someone. “Thank you for being here.”

“Of course, Harry. Always going to be here for you,” you said against his ear as your arms were around his shoulders. 

“And I’m always going to be here for you,” he said back. 

For a moment, it was just this--hugging him as he cooled down in your arms, and you liked it...a lot. But when you pulled back, you didn’t pull back completely and it made you face to face with him, literally inches away from each other. You two looked at each other in the eye, glancing your eyes to his lips and back up to his eyes. The only thing you thought was: I really want to fucking kiss him right now. 

And it seemed like he did as well because he crashed his lips with yours, molding them together as your arms were wrapped around one another. It was everything you expected as you dreamed of his lips on yours quite often, and you absolutely loved it. He felt like a drug, like all of your pain and worries went away once his lips touched yours, and you were addicted. You wanted so much more. 

Your tongue makes its way in his mouth, meeting his, and he swirled it with his before lightly sucking on it. Your teeth found a way to bite his bottom lip and he let out a groan. He pulled back for a bit, looking at you before kissing you again. 

“God, been wanting you for so long,” he groaned, and you felt butterflies in your stomach, trying not to take his words literally as to keeping your hopes down. But little did you know that his words were serious. “Can I touch you?” He whispered in between kisses. 

You nodded, whispering out, “Please.” Harry’s stomach did flips once you gave him consent, and his hands trailed down your body. Luckily, you were wearing a simple dress with straps, so it was easier. He bunched up your dress up to your hips, and you held it up with your arm before touching you over your panties, feeling a wet spot over the fabric. 

“Practically drenched. It’s for me, right?” He muttered, wrapping his free arm around your waist so you were closer. 

“Yes. Always going to be for you,” you moaned as his hand continuously rubbed you and he smirked. Your words had completely slipped out, but it was the truth. 

“Can I take them off?” He asked, and you nodded your head before he slid your drench underwear down your legs and you kicked them off to the side somewhere in his dressing room. You molded your lips with his again and grabbed a fistful of his curly hair, causing him to kiss you even harder. 

Harry then started roaming his hands around your thighs, going to ass and squeezing the flesh, and you moan against his mouth. His hand moves up and to your stomach before trailing down to your hot core. He took his fingers and swiped up your slit, making you groan from the feeling of his hands. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he whispered before touching your clit and rubbing it. He buried his face in your neck to kiss, suck, and nibble on your skin, and that feeling made you throw your head back as his hands rubbed you and mouth kissed you. The feeling was indescribable, but it was Harry. 

You felt his fingers slip inside of you, starting off with one finger before pumping in and out of you. He then added another finger as he curled them in an inward motion and brushed his fingertips against the soft upper area of your pussy. 

“Shit, that feels so good. So, so good, H,” you groaned out. Harry took the straps of your dress off your shoulders, and kissed your chest where the gold chain he had gifted you rested. He pulled on the front of your dress to expose your tits, and his mouth immediately wrapped around your hard nipples, sucking them and pulling on them before releasing them with a pop. Your grip on Harry’s hair tightened as you felt like you were going to rip out his hair from the way you’re feeling. “Add another,” you whimpered out. 

“Another finger?” He looked at you with wide eyes, but all he saw was your eyes closed and head being thrown back; and you nodded. He added his pinky finger in with his ring and middle finger, trying his best to curl them up into you, but the snugness of your hole was challenging him. “Fuck, you’re so tight. Practically squeezing my fingers,” he said, kissing your neck. 

His words and fingers had gotten you to the edge, and you were minutes away from releasing around him. He saw you bite your lip and take deep breaths, and he knew you were close. 

“C’mon, angel baby. Let go for me, yeah? Know you’re close,” he thrusted his fingers deep into you, and that was when you hit your peak. With loud moans, you jolted around his fingers, riding your high out as Harry continuously pressed kisses to your chest and neck. He took his hand, sticking one of his fingers in your mouth, and you swirled your tongue around his finger that was covered in your orgasm, and moaned. He took the other two fingers, and placed them in his own mouth, tasting yourself on his fingers. “Taste so good,” he smirked, kissing your forehead, and you leaned your head on his shoulders to take a breather.

Once you calmed down, you turned your head to kiss his neck, sucking on his skin to calm your breathing down, and Harry hissed. His hands ran through your hair and all the way down to your back, soothing you. After a minute or two, you lifted your head up, meeting his eye before you kissed him, deeply. You two made out for a while you unbuttoned his black shirt, and you pulled away from his lips to kiss down his torso until you were on your knees. Harry was hard as rock in his pants and desperately needed some release that he could possibly come any minute with how you’re kissing him. 

His entire suit was still on and he went to take his jacket off, but you stopped him. 

“Keep it on,” you looked up at him as you told him so before proceeding to kiss down his stomach. He put his arms down, and gripped and sat on the edge of the desk. You got to the hem of his pants and looked up at him, giving him a sight to die for. “Can I take these off?” 

He looked down at you, smirking before nodding his head. “Please, take it all off,” he gave your cheek a stroke with his thumb, and you smiled looking back down to his pants to unbutton it, pulling down his trousers to his ankles, you saw his bulge, and smirked before you kissed over his underwear. Harry took a deep breath in as you palmed him before grabbing the hem of his briefs and pulling it down, his dick springing up as Harry’s shoulder relaxed from the lack of restraint. 

“Fuck, you’re so big,” you said, grabbing his dick. You knew very well that he was well endowed because of the many times you’ve seen him get hard on stage, and also from that moment when you walked in on him in Brooke’s mouth had confirmed it, but seeing it up close was unreal. You licked your hand and grabbed his cock before looking up at him. “What do you want me to do, Harry?” Your voice asked seductively. He was completely under your spell as his breaths were staggered while you stroked him. 

“Anything you want,” he breathed out. You smirked at the state he was in at the moment, and you loved every second of it. 

You put your mouth around his tip, sucking it lightly, and that caused Harry’s breath to hitch in his throat. You took more of him in your mouth as you relaxed your jaw. He was bigger than the guys you’ve fucked and you really hoped you were doing a good job for him because you wanted him to feel good. You hollowed your cheeks in and sucked hard, slicking your tongue on the underside of his cock. 

“Feels so good, angel baby,” he moaned, throwing his head back. He was already embarrassingly close, but he wanted to feel you more, so he tangled his fingers in your hair, getting a gentle but steady grip, and started guiding your head up and down his cock. You let him take control for the time being because honestly, you loved hearing the sounds of his moans start to progress. “That’s it,” he muttered under his breath once he felt the back of your throat. 

You placed your hands on his thighs, gripping his skin harshly so that your nails dug into it, and he hissed, but the pain felt so good to him. After a few more pushes to your head, you pushed on his thighs so he could release you, and when you did that he knew that he was done being in control. You grabbed his cock that was slick from your mouth, and you loved your head down so you could take his balls in your mouth. More of the beautiful sounds coming from his mouth came out more loudly as you sucked until he finally said the words. 

“Gonna cum, angel. Gonna fuckin’ cum,” he moaned. You saw his knuckles practically turn white as he gripped the desk hard. You loved your head back up to place the tip in your mouth as you fondled with his balls before he spurts his come in your mouth. “Such a fuckin’ good girl,” he said as you swallowed. 

You kissed back up his stomach and to his neck before meeting his lips again. He tasted himself on your tongue, and you were a good mix with him. You two pulled back from one another, looking at each other before you both started giggling—post orgasm haze. 

“Jeez, such an angel, but that mouth of yours is sinful.”

5 June 2018 

The rest of the Europe, Australia, and Asia leg went by, and you were back in the states for the first show of the US leg. 

Ever since the dressing room escapade, you and Harry had been acting differently towards each other. There weren’t anymore sexual acts, but there was a lot more affection. Sadly, not any kisses to the lips, but kisses to the cheek and forehead were made, and they were welcomed and given. He would always put an arm around your shoulder when you two were walking, and there was the occasional cuddle in his hotel room before or after the show. It was definitely different, but you enjoyed it. 

What you didn’t enjoy was the fact that you hadn’t told him you liked him. You were sure he had an idea, but you wanted to say it out loud to get it off your chest. You also didn’t know if he felt that way towards you whatsoever, and that thought scared you. Just because of what happened in the dressing room didn’t necessarily mean he had feelings for you. The thought of him just leading you on and messing with you feelings made your heart sink when you think about it, and you really hoped it wouldn't get to that point. 

Tonight was the Dallas show, and Harry wore an Alexander McQueen embroidered pink floral suit. As always, he looked amazing. But your favorite was the Barcelona suit, and you might be a bit biased on that given the events that happened in that particular suit. You chuckled to yourself as you followed Jeff and Glenne to your seats. 

You decided to watch the show with them in the reserved seats in the lower level of the arena, and it was a change from the side of the stage, but you could really see more from the seats. Once you got to your seats, Harry had already finished up with ‘Only Angel’ and was moving on to ‘Woman,’ but a familiar man had caught your eye. 

“Alex?” You called out through the music. 

“Y/N! It’s so great seeing you!” He said, giving you a hug. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Jeff and Harry invited me! Haven’t seen Harry perform since last year, so they reserved me a seat,” his face was close to your ear, so you could understand him better through the loudness of the crowd and the bass of the music. 

“Ah, well I’m glad you’re here! It’s been a while,” you said completely innocently, and he nodded, smiling before turning his head to watch Harry on stage. In all honesty, the thought of Alex slipped your mind because your head was constantly thinking about Harry as it always does. 

For the rest of the show, he was amazing. The crowd was wild as always, and he absolutely looked so cute in his suit. Your favorite part was when someone threw a rainbow sequined cowboy hot on stage, and he picked it up to wear it. It was a look, to be honest. 

Before the band said their goodbyes to the crowd, the four of you headed backstage, so there wasn’t any delay with everyone trying to leave at the same time. As you were walking, you were walking next to Alex as Jeff and Glenne walked in front of you two. 

“Hey, I was thinking. Maybe we should get dinner tonight? Y’know, to catch up? I know some places that are still open,” he suggested, and you liked the idea. 

“Yeah, sure. Sounds good,” you said, smiling back. 

The four of you met with the band as they laughed and talked about the show. You met Harry, giving him a hug as you told him that he did amazing out there. He hugged you back tightly, telling you thank you. 

“C’mon,” he said, taking your hand as he wanted to go to his dressing room as you always did after his shows. 

“Oh, uh, actually,” you pulled your hand back, causing him to stop walking. “I’m going out to dinner with Alex…” you said nervously, and he raised his eyebrows, looking down the hall and noticing Alex talking to Adam. 

“Oh okay, yeah. Go ahead,” he let go of your hand, completely dropping it from his as his face dropped. In that moment, you wished you didn’t say yes to Alex and went with Harry to his dressing room. This would be the first time you were going to miss out on dressing room chats as he calmed down from his energetic state from being on stage. It would be the first time you weren’t going back to the hotel with him while holding his hand in the car and up to your rooms. 

“Hey,” Alex caught up to you, not feeling the tension between you and Harry. “Ready to go?” You looked up at him briefly, placing a fake smile on your face before looking back at Harry who already had his back turned towards you, walking to his room. 

“Yeah, I am.” 

21 June 2018

The prospect of not talking to Harry as much hurt you a bit. 

You haven’t had a full conversation with him in about two weeks. The most you’ve ever spoken to him was when someone was looking for him or if he was clearing up and clarifying his schedule. But other than that, nothing. You didn’t know why it was like that, but you tried not to let it get to you as you told yourself that he was tired from the tour. He was on the last month of tour and the flying had definitely caught up to him. 

But that wasn’t the real reason. 

You have been going out with Alex ever since that night in Dallas, and you thought it was nice to have someone to talk to other than Harry and the rest of the crew and band--although they’re very nice and fun people, you saw them everyday. And you came to find out that Alex was even more fun once you’ve gotten to know him even more. 

Alex made you feel free. There was something refreshing about hanging out with him that made you want more, and he definitely took your mind off of thinking about Harry... by having his tongue down your throat and inside of you. There have been plenty of pleasurable times when Alex had made you feel good, and vice versa. It started out in the night at Fort Lauderdale, two days after Dallas, and you went out with Alex to a bar in the city. Both of you had too much to drink and he asked if you wanted to go over to his hotel, which of course you said yes. One thing led to another, and you were underneath him, moaning his name out. Ever since then, he would watch every other show and you two would have date nights that took the night away into a hotel room. 

It was nice, and he liked you and you liked him back. 

Liked him as much as Harry? Not quite. But there were definitely a little bit of feelings for him. Besides, he calls you nice things and tells you you’re pretty. 

It was Harry’s first New York show in Madison Square Garden as a solo artist, and he was pumped, but also a little nervous. You were so incredibly proud of him and what he’s done in his career, so you were happy for him. And you were happy to be back home for a few days as well because you haven’t been home since the beginning of the month. 

Alex stood next to you with an arm around your shoulder the entire time of Harry’s show. He was wearing a custom Gucci white suit with flowers printed all over and the phrase ‘Memento Mori’ underneath it. The lapel part of the suit was a velvet material and he wore a black shirt underneath. The trousers were flared from the knee down, and you absolutely loved it. 

When the show was over, you and Alex headed backstage to meet with the band. You had expected that he wanted to get dinner already, but he hadn’t mentioned anything, so you assumed that you were going to go back to your hotel and hang out with him there. 

“Lovely show, H,” you hugged him tightly, but he didn’t reciprocate the same energy into the hug like you, and you found that odd because he usually hugs you tight. 

“Thanks,” he smiled softly, shaking Alex’s hand before thanking him for coming to the show. 

You turned towards Alex and asked, “What’s the plan for tonight?” 

“Oh, I was going to tell you, but I’m hanging out with a couple of friends from college that live here. So, I can't hang out with you tonight. I’m sorry,” he slightly pouted. “I’ve got to get going now though, so I’ll see you tomorrow?” You nodded understandingly. 

“Yeah, definitely. Probably best we don’t hang out all the time because I don’t want you to get tired of me,” you joked, and he shook his head no. “But I’ll see you tomorrow. Text me,” you told him before he gave you a kiss on the lips before heading towards the exit. 

Harry had watched the whole interaction with a small frown. He tried to contain his jealousy when he saw Alex kiss you and you smiling, but it was difficult for him to not scoff loudly, so he turned around and walked towards his dressing room. You turned around to find Harry missing, and you assumed he went to his dressing room, so you headed over there. You knocked on the door before entering, and you found him on the couch with his phone in his hands. 

“Hey,” you smiled, sitting on the couch as he muttered a ‘hi.’ “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, what makes you think I’m not?” He said defensively, and you furrowed your brows. 

“I never said you weren’t. I just wanted to make sure you were. I haven’t talked to you in a while.” 

“Well, that’s not my fault,” he whispered under his breath before continuing to scroll through his phone. 

There was a bit of a silence, and unfortunately, it was an awkward one. You didn’t feel needed in the dressing room, but you sat there awkwardly as you didn’t know what to say to him. 

“You’re seeing Alex?” He suddenly asked, breaking the silence. 

“Yeah. Just hanging out with him,” you got up to grab a water bottle from the table, and you opened it, taking a sip. 

“So, you’re fucking him?” He said casually, but you choked on your water, immediately coughing. Once you calmed down, you looked at him with watered eyes. 

“Uh…” 

“You can tell me,” he said sternly. 

“I mean, yeah, we had sex a few times, but there’s no label or anything like that. We’re just hanging out,” you told him, and he nodded. 

“Do you like him?” He raised his brows, and you took a deep breath, wondering what all these questions were for. 

“I think so, but-”

“Good, he’s a good guy,” he interrupted you. You liked Alex, yeah, but comparing your feelings for Alex to Harry...unmatchable. “I’m glad you’re happy,” he said, getting up from the couch before grabbing a towel from the vanity and walking out of the dressing room. Once he left, you were alone in the dressing room. You sighed deeply as you buried your face in your hands. 

“Yeah, sure I am.”

22 June 2018

The sound of ringing had woken you up from your slumber. 

You groaned as you tried to make out where your phone might be on your bedside table with your eyes closed, but you were hitting empty spots, so you opened one eye and grabbed your phone. 

“Hello?” Your morning voice coming out through the speaker. 

“Y/N. Can you come by, like right now?” It was Harry on the phone, and you groaned. After the night prior, you thought he didn’t want to talk to you, but seeing as you’re still his assistant, of course he would call you. 

“Why must you call me at,” you pulled your phone back to look at the time, “six in the morning?” 

“Please. It’s important. I have some stuff I need you to do,” he pleaded, and you stretched your limbs out, making inhumane noises while still being on the phone, and Harry chuckled. 

“Fine. Be there in like twenty.”

“Thank you, angel! See you.”

He must be in an awfully good mood this morning, you thought. And it’s been a while since you heard your pet name, but you brushed it off and got ready. 

You unlocked the door of Harry’s house, letting yourself in. You found him sitting on the couch, reading a book until he looked up at the door and saw you. He got up and walked towards you, and opened his arms, giving you a big hug. 

“Hey, angel. Thanks for coming by,” he said into your ear, leaving you in goosebumps. 

“Course. Everything okay?” You asked once you pulled away. 

“Yeah. I miss you, y’know. Feel like we haven’t spoken in a while,” he trailed off a bit, and you squint your eyes at him. 

“I sense a ‘but,’” you said, and he chuckled. 

“I actually need you to get these for me, if that’s okay? Just need them before the show,” he handed you a list, and you looked at it. 

The items were something similar as before: a bouquet of flowers and a gift basket with various types of snacks. As you read through it, that’s when you knew and your heart sank. 

“So who is it?” Harry looked at you curiously, and you waved around the list up. “Who are you dating?” 

“Oh, this girl I met through a mutual friend. She actually was at the Dallas show and we met after at a bar. She’s in the fashion industry; her name is Rena,” he explained with a smile. “She’s coming to the show tonight, so I just wanted to get her a little something.” 

“Okay, I’m on it. I’ll see you tonight,” you headed out, figuring since you had nothing else to do, you could stretch your errands out until the show. You decided to have breakfast first and get some coffee since it was quite early still, and enjoy a day to yourself until Harry introduces you to yet another girl. 

Rena was a nice lady. She was two years older than you and Harry, and she was drop dead gorgeous. You’ve never seen anyone this stunning up close. She always had the sweetest smile, and you were contemplating if she was real or not, and why Harry is calling you ‘angel’ and not her. It was difficult to hate her, and it’s not like you wanted to, but considering that you have feelings for Harry, you wanted something to be wrong about her--maybe a Brooke 2.0, but she was so kind to you, and she loved everything that was gifted to her from Harry, even if the items were the smallest things. So, there were no complaints. 

Harry seemed happy with her, so that’s all that mattered. 

1 July 2018

It seemed like Rena was around all the time now, like she was at every show since night two in New York. You tried to busy yourself by going around the town you were in or talking to Alex, but you missed Harry. It was always like this when he was dating someone; the first few months, he would completely forget about you and always hang out with the person, but once he starts settling in, he wants to talk to you. And since he’s only been dating Rena for a month, he hasn’t been talking to you lately. 

You watched Harry on stage in St. Paul next to Rena, Alex, and Jeff as Harry was wearing a sparkly pink Gucci shirt with a pussybow on the front and some black trousers. The energy in the room was amazing. By far it was the best performance of ‘Medicine’ you’ve seen him perform. He even held out a pair of handcuffs in front of the crowd, making them go crazy, and he looked up at your section, glancing at Rena before smirking, making you cringe a tad bit as she cheered. 

At the end of the show, you greeted the band, and immediately Rena was attached to Harry, which made you impatient because you wanted to hug him like you always do. But they were wrapped in each other’s arms as they kissed, no plans of letting go of one another. 

“Hey, wanna head out?” Alex asked. You still hadn’t said hello to Harry, but you figured you could text him later, so you nodded, glancing back at the two of them and walked out with Alex. He took you to a diner that wasn’t too far from the hotel and you both ate breakfast for a midnight meal because breakfast simply hits differently when it’s at an unusual hour. Alex then walked you back to the hotel room, and you were exhausted by this point. You just wanted to get out of your shoes and sleep for a very long time. You were lucky that you weren’t sharing a room with Alex because sometimes you just needed to be alone, and this moment was that time. “So, I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” he said, stopping in front of your room and your brows raised as he continued. “We’ve been dating for about a month now, and I really like you, so I wanted to ask if you wanted to be my girlfriend.”

You had expected anything else, but that question. Your heart beat practically stopped for a moment as you looked at him, wondering if he was serious, and when he didn’t say he was joking, you realized that he was actually being serious. 

“Oh, uhm…”

“It’s been fun getting to know you and travelling to these places with you, so I figured it was time to ask you.”

“Alex...you’re a really nice guy, but I’m just not sure I can be your girlfriend,” you told him honestly, and his brows furrowed. 

“Why’s that?”

“I-I like you, but I feel like my feelings for you aren’t 100% there when it comes to being your girlfriend.” He only nodded, and you were getting quite anxious when he didn’t say anything. 

He then started laughing, pacing around in the hallway and you crossed your arms. 

“That’s hilarious,” he said. 

“What-”

“No, the only reason you don’t want to be with me is because you’re in love with someone else!” His voice raised, making the hallway echo a bit. You looked at him, not knowing what to say. “Yeah. I know you’re in love with Harry. Noticed that the first time I met you; that you were staring right at someone that wasn’t yours, but desperately wanted to be.”

“I…” you were speechless. Had you really been that obvious about your feelings towards Harry that everyone around you noticed? 

“It’s a shame though, isn’t it?” He had a grin of the devil; mischievously and humiliating. You looked at him nervously, urging him to continue. “You’re in love with someone that doesn’t even want you,” he stated. “That doesn’t look your way for a second when he thinks about a relationship because you’re only his assistant. Not once would he look your way down the street if you weren’t working for him,” he looked you up and down, and your eyes started watering, and you were embarrassed that you were about to cry in front of Alex as he crushed you in every possible way. “It’s okay, don’t cry. You have me,” he opened his arms to take you in for a hug, but you physically pushed him away because now you were angry. 

“I have you? Are you fucking kidding me? After you just humiliated me?” You were breathing out through your nose as your tears made their way down your cheeks. 

“Hey, I’m just telling you the truth-”

“Why did you even ask me to be your girlfriend?” You asked, genuinely confused on his logic. 

“Well, the question that you’re supposed to be asking is why did I talk to you in the first place?” 

“Why did you?” 

“Since you want to know so bad,” he teased, and you rolled your eyes. “When I saw you, I definitely liked you, but then I saw you were giving heart eyes to Harry, so I thought I could change your mind. See if I could switch your feelings up,” he chuckled. 

“So, this was some sort of experiment? Guessing your hypothesis was wrong then, huh? Go ahead and write your conclusion as: fucked her, but dick wasn’t good enough to fall in love. So, fuck off,” you rolled your eyes and opened the door before slamming it shut in his face. Your back was leaning against the door as more that you’ve been holding onto fell from your face as you heard him still talk. 

“You’ll never be like Brooke or Rena, or whoever he dates in the future! You’re nothing to him!” He yelled through the door as his words came out muffled. 

Sliding down the door, you finally heard him leave, and you were full on sobbing. You tried not to let his words get the better of you, but the way Alex spat them out so easily, it was hard not to. 

Because what if he’s right. 

7 July 2018

Harry noticed that you had been feeling off the entire week. 

It was like you were simply existing, but not present in some moments when people would talk to you. You had this dull look on your face, and it wasn’t the same as your bright and happy look that he looked forward to everyday. He noticed it when everyone was leaving from Minnesota, and he told himself that it was because you were tired, which was true, but he didn’t know the whole reason. 

After the show in Seattle, he didn’t see you like he used to, and he wondered where you or if you even watched the show. Once he high fived and talked to everyone for a bit, he headed to his dressing room, hoping that you were in there, but you weren’t. So now, he was worried. 

H: Hey, where are you? He texted. Luckily, Rena wasn’t around anymore because she would want all his attention after the show. He simply couldn’t take someone being so clingy, so he called things off with her. It may have also had to do with the fact that he didn’t want to hide his feelings anymore, and being with other people just wasn’t working for him anymore. Not when you were in front of him. 

It’s been a long time coming now, and he felt stupid for not telling you in the first place since he’s been in love with you since last year--during the time he was with Brooke. He was honestly afraid to tell you, and when he heard Brooke say it, he just felt so much shock run through him, so he kept his mouth shut. He didn’t have an excuse as to why he got with other people while being in love with you, but it just made him feel in control of himself because he couldn’t control his feelings towards you, so he got scared. So, he decided that when everyone gets to California in two days, he’s going to confess his entire feelings for you. 

Harry walked to your hotel room, knocking on it as he waited for you to answer. He could hear shuffling and movement through the door, and he hoped to god that Alex wasn’t in there with you. 

“Who is it?” You said through the door, softly. 

“Angel, it’s Harry. Can I see you?” He asked. There was a pause, but then he heard the door handle rattled as you opened the door. 

Your face was a crying mess and your hair was up in a very messy bun. Harry’s mouth opened slightly as he concerningly asked, “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” His question and concern had made you sob even more as you shook your head. “C’mere,” he pulled you in for a hug and you sobbed into his chest as he walked you over to the edge of your bed. He observed your room and saw that there were a stack of clothes folded on the other bed along with your open luggage with some of your belongings inside. “Angel, what’s going on?” You pulled your head out of his chest to look at him, knowing that he was probably wondering why you were packing; and he had a sad expression on his face. 

“I’m leaving,” you simply said. 

“Leaving? Where are you going?” His brows furrowed. 

“I’m going back home.” 

“W-What? Why?” 

“I can’t be your assistant anymore, Harry,” you cried, and Harry’s heart sank as his jaw dropped. 

“What are you talking about? A-Are you quitting?” You stood up, placing the stack of clothes in your luggage as you sorted them. 

“Y-Yeah,” you said quietly, and Harry has never been more confused in his life. 

“W-What did I do wrong? I’m sorry we haven’t been seeing each other lately, but I promise after tour-”

“No, no. It’s not you, I promise,” you shook your head. In this moment, you felt like you should tell him everything because he deserved an explanation from you. “Please, listen, okay?” He nodded. You walked to sit on the desk chair in front Harry as he sat on the edge of the bed. You proceeded to tell him everything that Alex said from him asking you to be his girlfriend to you saying no. “He said these mean things that-”

“What the fuck did he say?” He gritted his teeth and took a deep breath. 

“Just listen,” you stopped him. “He said those things because I’m in love with someone else…I’m in love with you, and you probably heard Brooke say that, but you didn’t say anything, so I just assumed that you didn’t want to believe it.” It was the words Harry has been wanting to hear and he went to open his mouth, but you immediately started talking again. “I have been ever since I started working for you, and I thought it was just a crush on my boss, but it’s way more than that. Alex told me I’m not good enough for you and that you would never love me, and I think that’s true-” 

“No! That’s not true! I love-”

“Please, don’t,” you shook your head as you sobbed. You’ve been waiting for years to hear those words, but you knew that you couldn’t hear them just yet. “Don’t say those words because I’m leaving and to prove Alex wrong.” 

“I’m not trying to prove him wrong, it’s true,” Harry’s eyes watered, and you sighed.

“What he said got me thinking…I go to all these stores and pick shit up for your love interests, sending me a list of all their favorite things, and wishing that they were for me. And in the midst of it, I realized you don’t know what my favorite flower is! I’ve been hurting for so long that I covered it up everytime and put a fake smile on my face just to see you happy.”

“Your favorite flower is-”

“I just really think that I deserve to be happy as well,” you nodded your head as a way to try and convince yourself. 

“You do deserve to be happy, angel baby. But we can be happy together? I-I… want you here. With me.” His voice was filled with hope, and it only made it harder for you. 

You closed your eyes for a moment, burying your face in your hands. “I want that so bad. I do, H. But I really need to be happy with myself and by myself first. I depended on you and the others around me a lot, and I just didn’t save that love for myself, so…I need to leave,” you sniffled, wiping your cheeks. 

“And when you come back?” 

“I don’t know when that will be or what’s going to happen, but I’m not asking you to wait for me or anything because you should live your life. But when I come back, I’ll call you, and we’ll talk,” you told him, and it seemed like you had everything planned already, but you were just as lost as he was. He dropped his head, crying into his hands. You rolled your chair closer to him, grabbing his wrists, and he lifted his head. “We’ll be alright, okay? Just need a little time to myself.” He nodded, sniffling. 

You stood up and walked over to your luggage, zipping it closed before you looked around to see if you forgot anything. Harry stood up and walked over to you, grabbed your wrists, and pulled you to him, giving you a hug. His face was buried in your neck and you felt him press kisses against your skin as he cried. 

“You’ll be back?” The pain in his voice was enough to tip you over the edge of bawling. 

“Yeah, I’ll be back,” you said in between sniffs. “I’m going to stay with my parents for a while; get a job back in Oregon,” you told him, so he’s not completely out of the loop. He pulled back, looking down at you. 

“When you come back, your job will always be here.” You smiled sadly, raising your hand to caress his cheek. 

“We’ll see, okay? But I have to go to the airport now. My flight is in two hours,” you managed to free yourself from his grasp as it tightened so you wouldn’t go, but you really had to. 

“Let me drop you off?” He offered, and you shook your head. 

“No, it’s only going to make this harder,” you said, grabbing your luggage and backpack. “Have a great rest of the tour, alright? Take care of yourself,” you placed your palm on his cheek again, looking in his sad eyes before you reached up and kissed his cheek. “I’ll see you, honey.”

You walked out of the room with no glance back at him, and Harry was alone in your hotel room, and it was the last memory of you that would be ingrained in his mind forever. 

14 July 2018 

The crowd cheered loud for Harry for his final show in Los Angeles. He overwhelmingly smiled as he took a deep breath before continuing onto the next song. Everyone seemed to know what the next song on the set list was, so the room went a bit quiet as the crowd turned on their flashlights as the lights went completely dark, and the only thing was heard was the strumming of the guitar. 

Woke up alone in this hotel room… As he sang, he took in his own lyrics, feeling like they really related to him at the moment despite writing the song two years ago. Harry sang with every emotion in him as he let it all out in the dark room that was silent, and the only thing he heard was his voice and the guitar that was played by Mitch. 

We haven’t spoke since you went away…He had thought of you every night he sang this song since you left in Seattle, and it pained him that there was no contact between you ever since you left, but he figured that was what you wanted. What you needed. 

Comfortable silence is so overrated… The moments when there would be silence between you two, he hated looking back at those moments because he knew he should’ve said something, you would’ve still been here. 

Why won’t you ever say what you want to say? Why didn’t you say anything, Harry? 

Even my phone misses your call, by the way…He missed your contact name pop up on his phone that went along with his contact picture for you. You were smiling bright as you ate ice cream. It was a summer day in New York and really warm outside, so you decided you two took a break from running around and got some ice cream. You were so happy that day, and he was happy he got it on camera. 

Harry would often find himself looking at your pictures together; trying to pinpoint the exact moment you knew you were in love with him. Your smile always made his day, and it broke his heart knowing that he wouldn’t get to see that smile for a long while--at least he hoped it’s not a long time till he gets to see you again. Since, he knew when his feelings had progressed, he looked back on the pictures when he knew he fell hard. His smile had gotten bigger and the look he gave you was full of love, and he wished that you saw how he looked at you. 

He missed you so much. 

13 December 2019

It took you quite a while since you felt whole again. 

You hadn’t felt so empty as you had been when you left Seattle. The year and a half you spent back at home really helped you with that. You were able to find yourself again; spending time with your family and with yourself was something so refreshing that you cherished every moment with them. You learned a lot about yourself, and you reshaped your own worth and values. You came back stronger than ever and you’ve never been happier than you are now. 

You nervously walked over to the section you were going to be sitting in. The room was dark and the crowd was absolutely wild as they were finally seeing the one person they’ve been waiting for. You looked down, watching your step as you held your phone with the flashlight on your feet as they stepped onto the red floor of the pit, until you saw the familiar faces you’ve been looking for. 

“Y/N! There you are!” Glenne smiled, taking you in for a hug. “I’ve missed you babe,” she said in your ear as you hugged her tight. 

“I missed you too, so much.”

“Hey, Y/N. It’s good to see you again,” Jeff said, giving you a warm embrace. 

The music was playing and the crowd had gotten louder as the man of the hour finally stepped on stage, and all the spotlights were pointed on him. You watched him as he walked down from the high stage to the main stage, grabbing his guitar as said hello to everyone before strumming the first note. 

As you remembered, he was amazing on stage as he wore the same outfit as the album cover. He ignited the crowd with his charm and voice that left people in tears from being so overwhelmed by him. You felt overwhelmed as well; seeing him for the first time in a year and a half had made you quite emotional. 

You knew you wanted to go to Harry’s ‘One Night Only’ show when he first announced it. From keeping in contact with him, you figured you could keep in contact with updates of him, and what he’s up to these days. You streamed his music, watched his music videos, and stayed up late just to hear a snippet of him on the radio. You were always excited when you would get the notification on your phone of new pictures and videos of him because that was the only way you were able to see him. You found out that he had spent quite some time in Japan towards the end of last year and the beginning of this year. You really hoped he was doing okay. During the days of finding yourself, the thought of seeing him again had scared you, and you weren’t ready for that, so you waited until this day to see him. 

So, at the beginning of the week, you had texted Glenne that you wanted to go to the show, and she immediately said yes, putting your name on the list. You told her not to tell Harry just yet because you wanted to surprise him, and she was on board with the idea as was Jeff. 

They were both really supportive of you during your times sulking and growing, and Glenne had even visited you in Oregon to make sure you were okay and simply just missing you. You were really thankful for both of them because you knew that it was hard to see their two friends in pain, but you were glad that they supported your decision. Glenne had always known that you were in love with Harry, and you told her ever since you figured your feelings out. But you had made her swear on her life and Jeff’s that she wouldn’t say a word about it to anyone, not even Jeff (although Jeff saw it coming). 

“He’s going to be so happy to see you and know that you’re here,” Glenne said to you as the beginning of ‘Fine Line’ was starting. You thought the album was an  absolute masterpiece that was composed of beautiful lyrics, melodies, and emotion. You made sure to dance and cheer for the songs you didn’t know the words to extra loud, and you sang to the ones you knew without hesitation. You stayed up all night, listening to the album multiple times on repeat and trying to get the words down, and you were sure everyone did the same. 

As you listened to Harry sing the outro and the words ‘We’ll be alright’ coming out so effortlessly, you were reminded of your words to him as you left the hotel room. The song was quite hard hitting and you felt every inch of your skin cover in goosebumps. 

You practically lost your shit when Stevie Nicks came out and performed ‘Landslide’ with him, and when he sang ‘Wonderful Christmas Time’ while fake snow was falling from the ceiling. Before you knew it, Harry was in the middle of singing ‘Kiwi,’ and Glenne tapped your arm, telling you to follow her and you knew that you three were going backstage already. You felt butterflies in your stomach, feeling really nervous to see him again up close after a year and a half; and you only hoped that he was happy to see you as well. 

You heard the muffled final beat of the song as the crowd loudly cheered for him, telling him to do another song, but you knew that it was the end of the show. Jeff had walked way ahead of you both to grab Harry really quick, so he could point his attention towards you. Your hands were shaking as your arm was looped with Glenne’s as she provided physical support for you, holding you up, and continuously telling you that he’s going to be so ecstatic. 

Cheers erupted from the crew as everyone hugged each other, proud and happy of the success of Harry’s first show of his sophomore album. Once you were close enough, you could make out everyone’s faces. The band was there along with Harry’s friends and producers that had written the album with him. Finally, there was Harry; his back was facing you as he hugged Jeff, and Jeff gave you an amusing smile as he hugged his best friend. You heard him whisper into Harry’s ear, and Harry pulled back, saying, “What?” 

Jeff nodded, and Harry quickly turned around. His face was pulled into a shocked expression as his eyes widened and his body was practically frozen as he took in your presence. You smiled softly, waiting for him to say or do something because you didn’t know how he felt with you being here on his special night. 

Finally, he took two long strides towards you, pulling you in for a hug. Your body collided with his, and smiled into his shoulder, wrapping your arms around his tone body. 

“How are you?” You whispered in his ear as you practically felt him shaking in your arms. 

“I’m doing good. Better now,” he said softly. “What the fuck are you doing here, angel?” He chuckled, finally realizing that you were here in his arms. The sound of your pet name had widened your smile as your eyes watered; feeling so happy that you finally got to hear that name come from out of his mouth again. 

“Came to see you,” you said in his neck. He pulled back, looking at you in the eye before smiling like crazy as he took you in his arms again. He felt like he was on the moon; the overwhelming feeling of the feedback from the album, the show, and now finally getting to see you for the first time in a very long time—he truly couldn’t believe it, so he held you tight, not wanting to let you go as he felt like if he did, then you would vanish again. You felt his hesitancy or not wanting to let you go, so you whispered in his ear, “Hey, I’m here. Not leaving.” 

He eventually pulled back, and noticed everyone that gathered around you two, and smiles were on their faces with their hands over their hearts. They all had really witnessed Harry struggle the past year and a half; from song writing, recording, rehearsing, and just being present. They really saw Harry at his lowest, and now they're happy to finally see him happy now that you’re here. 

“I-I have to go meet some people and take some pictures, but do you think, uhm…” he trailed off, realizing that he might be acting too eager. 

“H, I’m right here. Do what you have to do, and I’ll wait for you, alright?” You told him with a smile, and he nodded. He didn’t want to walk away from you, but you knew that some people were waiting for him, so he had to leave. He gave you one last hug, which brightened your smile, and he walked down the hall of The Forum. “Stay in my dressing room!” He called out, and you laughed, remembering the talks and moments in his dressing room after his shows. 

Heading over to his dressing room, you stopped to say hi to everyone as they excitedly greeted you. You couldn’t believe that you were here again. The journey to get here was a struggle, but reuniting with everyone had made it so worth it—seeing Harry again was worth it, and you knew that you had to do it. 

After an hour of catching up with the crew and band, and sitting on his couch, mindlessly flipping through the pages of the Fine Line Booklet that contained pictures of Harry in the process of recording his album, he finally showed up. Sighing as he walked in from the rush of the entire day, once he saw your face again, he knew he wasn’t in the state of dreaming because you were really here. 

He took a seat on the couch next to you, taking your hand in his. He hesitantly raised your hand to his mouth and placed a kiss on the back of it; you smiled at the sweet gesture, caressing your thumb against his hand. 

“How are you, angel?” He asked, softly smiling as he was trying to contain his excitement that you’re finally here. 

“I’m good, H. I’m happy,” you said, and hearing that made Harry’s eyes glossy because that’s all he wanted from you. He wanted you to be happy; with yourself, with others, and with life. 

“I’m so glad to hear you say that,” he smiled, dimples poking out. You reached over to caress his cheek, rubbing his dimple out, and he turned his head to kiss the inside of your hand. 

“I want to hear everything from you--catch me up on everything?” He nodded eagerly, wanting that from you too. 

“Security said that the parking lot is empty now because they had to practically kick everyone out, so there’s no one out there, but what do you say we go out there and walk around the parking lot?” He suggested. It was almost midnight, and despite being exhausted and overwhelmed by this whole day, he’d rather stay up and talk for hours with you. 

“Are you sure? You’re not tired?” You asked, and he shook your head. 

“No, not at all. It’s been a year and a half since I last saw you. I want to spend time with you.”

“Okay, I’d like that,” you smiled, and he nodded, telling you that he was going to change really quick. He walked over to his duffel bag, grabbing some clothes before walking over to the changing room that was in his dressing room. Before he walked in, he turned around, facing you. 

“Hey.” You perked up, smiling. He missed your smile so damn much. “Your favorite flower is a baby pink peony,” he said before walking into the room. 

You were immediately taken back to the night when you had left when you had told him that he didn’t know what your favorite flower was, but all this time, he knew. He had always known. 

Walking towards the exit of the venue, the night was dark as the moon shined from up above you. With cold air rushing through you, you shivered, and Harry smiled next to you as you two walked through the emptiness of the parking lot. Before you two even spoke a word on how to go about having the ‘catch up’ conversation, you sensed Harry’s nervousness as he felt a bit hesitant with you because of the distance and time spent apart. But you wanted to remind him that you were the same person. You had the same feelings for him, and you really hoped he had some feelings for you too. 

So, you brushed your left hand against his right hand, cheeks flushed, and you interlock your fingers together, holding his warm ringed hand with your small one. 

This was it--this moment right here. This was where you were supposed to be. 

please come into my inbox and tell me how you’re feeling and what you thought of this! she was an emotional one :’)

[charissekenion]

Newsletter #55: The importance of James Kaliardos - more than a makeup artist

This week’s podcast was all about beauty news, and included a special section on the brilliance of makeup artist James Kaliardos. It all started with Lori Harvey getting ready for Vogue World on YouTube…

When IT Girl Lori looks over at her makeup artist, James Kaliardos, she simply introduces him as ‘James, my makeup artist.’ Which makes sense; Lori can afford the absolute best when it comes to her glam squad, and she does not owe anyone any credit, but I decided to use my podcast to create an extra episode, just so I could share a little information on James’ career, which began back in the 1990s.

I also created a TikTok on James and it’s received such good feedback from people who had either never heard of him before, or were glad to be reminded of his influence. Of course, there were a couple of comments saying that I’m unfairly ‘coming for Lori’ or ‘feigning annoyance’ and it’s not true at all. I was kind of annoyed, not at Lori - just at the missed opportunity.

It feels like, in 2022, information (often incorrect information at that) is shared without even a second being spent on adding a little context. When you’re in a position of influence, you have the ability to really celebrate someone’s work. In this instance, a high profile client is paying someone for a service and they don’t owe any public reviews or endorsements, but for me, James Kaliardos is highly influential, and not just in beauty. Here are just some of the reasons why…

New York-based James studied at the prestigious Parsons School of Design, where he focused on art history, photography, theatre and film, a decision which absolutely would have inspired him to go on to be one of the founders of the legendary Visionaire, a fashion-forward so-called experiential agency that produces films, events and publications. Launched in 1991 alongside Cecelia Dean and Stephen Gan, Visionaire has earned itself a reputation for highlighting the most interesting moments and people in fashion, art and film. They’ll often create these stunning themed issues with some costing as much as $1,000 and there was one special Louis Vuitton issue that went for $5,000.

Visionaire also launched one of my favourites, the highly influential V magazine in 1999, VMan in 2003 and former editor in chief of Vogue Paris, Carine Roitfeld’s CR Fashion Book in 2012. In 2014 the initial trio split, so today Cecelia and James run the company and the title Visionaire, while Stephen retained V and VMan.

James is also highly respected in the beauty world, and is often the artist that brands either want to collaborate with on a new range, or have backstage creating catwalk looks. We’re talking MAC, Nars, Tom Ford, Fenty Beauty, Makeup Forever – the list goes on it comes to makeup launches that have changed the face of beauty.

He’s worked on movies, music videos and his work has been seen in publications from Vogue to Allure and his celebrity clientele has taken him from working with Madonna in the ‘90s to Miley Cyrus, and of course, Lori Harvey. I think it’s all down to James’ highly attuned editorial eye; he simply knows what works and he creates looks that are super impactful but never fussy or overly-done.

One thing I personally love about James’ style, is that he’s never been a fan of a prescribed idea of prettiness; as he said in a 2016 interview for thekit.ca, he’s always been more into the girls who look even better than pretty – it’s about looking interesting and that looks different on everyone. So that’s that on James; I just wanted to share a little bit about who he is, just in case you happened to see his work with Lori Harvey. Lori might be an It girl but James is IT when it comes to beauty and innovation.

If you’d like to receive this newsletter each week, direct to your inbox, please subscribe at https://beautymenotes.substack.com/

[compassionatereminders]

Everyone in my family is in the STEM field except for me. (And by everyone I mean absolutely everyone).

Everyone’s in med school, bio, coding you name it, as much as I love some of those things (or well find them interesting) I have gone through the creative path, I study theatre, acting and am in film school. I’m their “black sheep”. Not only have I gone a different path but, I also work mentally in a different way, not just the fact I’m neurodivergent but also they’re all overachievers and toxic positive meanwhile that’s not it for me so it’s hard sometimes to find a positive approach to what I do bc I feel a constant guilt and shame that what I do is “not important” “doesn’t do anything for people/economy/etc”

It constantly makes me feel as if it didn’t matter. They’re the kind of people that think artists starve and can’t make a living unless they’re under nepotism branches. I can’t help but feel stupid when my entire house feels like an office, everyone coding and reading meanwhile I’m doing vocal exercises and what not. Whenever they come home from work they ask me how “I wasted my day” like I didn’t just spend 10+ writing or practicing.

Sorry this got lengthy

I'm so sorry your family is making you feel like you're doing something wrong just because you're doing something different. STEM isn't for everyone and the arts are just as important for our society as technology and math. Without art the world would be miserable! So I hope you stay true to yourself despite the judgment and criticism you're facing. What you're doing with your life is just as valuable as any STEM field. So while you may stand out in your family, keep reminding yourself that different doesn't equal wrong.

[ava-candide]

Poldark’s Aidan Turner on playing Leonardo da Vinci

The newly married heart-throb actor learnt to paint left-handed for his new role, and he’s still daubing now, he tells Ed Potton

Aidan Turner takes on the role of Renaissance polymath Leonardo

I’m trying to work out where Aidan Turner is Zooming from. Is it London, where he moved to in 2017 after his Ross Poldark became the drooled-over king of Sunday-night television? Dublin, where he grew up, trained as an actor and returned to spend the first lockdown with his parents? Or Rome, where he shot his new series, Leonardo, in which he plays a young Leonardo da Vinci?

“None of the above!” Turner says. “I’m in Toronto.” The enigmatic charm, feline eyes and gleaming locks that he deployed so mercilessly in Poldark, The Hobbit films and Being Human are all there. “My missus is working here,” he explains, and so is he. That’s the American actress Caitlin FitzGerald, his partner of three years, whom he met when they starred in the 2018 film The Man Who Killed Hitler and Then the Bigfoot. At first I assume the “missus” is laddish affectation but it turns out that it’s official: Turner and FitzGerald, both 37, got married in secret in Italy in August after filming finished on Leonardo. You can almost hear the sighs of disappointment ripple around the world.

Turner won’t say any more — he is famously guarded about his personal life — but he looks insanely happy in the couple’s rented apartment. FitzGerald — whose grandfather Desmond was a CIA agent and organised several plots to assassinate Fidel Castro — is shooting a series, Station Eleven, in Toronto while her husband works on another project that he’s not allowed to talk about. In their downtime they’ve been watching I’ll Be Gone in the Dark, an HBO documentary series about the Golden State Killer, and, on a lighter note, Ottolenghi and the Cakes of Versailles. They share the apartment with Charlie, an ebullient Norfolk terrier that Turner has to eject from the room halfway through our interview when he starts yapping. “I’m surprised he behaved for so long,” he says

Eight-part series Leonardo has been criticised for warping history

Like many of his fellow thesps, Turner has been doing a great deal of lockdown painting. “We have a roof garden here and the light has been really good,” he says. “I probably shouldn’t be saying this because I don’t know if the landlord knows. It’s not messy work anyway!” Unlike some of his peers — I’m looking at you, Pierce Brosnan — he has yet to unleash his daubings on the world. How would he describe his style? “I struggle to say abstract, but I haven’t quite figured out what it is yet.” Did it help with playing Leonardo? “I don’t know. If you saw my paintings, you’d assume very much not,” Turner says. He has a studied line in self-effacement, honed after years of “sexiest man on TV” questions.

Leonardo premiered in Italy last month and was watched by seven million, many of them doubtless keen to see Turner brooding in a succession of smocks. The eight-part series has been criticised for warping history, having the artist accused of murder and featuring an apparently fictional muse, Caterina da Cremona, played by Matilda De Angelis from The Undoing. Luca Bernabei, the chief executive of Lux Vide who produced the series, defended it stoutly. “Matilda De Angelis’s character did exist. She was a model Leonardo asked to paint,” he said. “We have been really careful in our research. But this is not a documentary, we are not historians and this is not a university history lecture.”

And if the history pedants are spluttering, the art pedants should be happier — the series goes to considerable lengths to make the painting look authentic. Each episode is themed around a different masterpiece, from the portrait of Ginevra de’ Benci to The Last Supper to the Mona Lisa, and the candlelit cinematography is often sumptuous. Turner’s research included a private view of a Leonardo exhibition. “I spent some time alone with the actual paintings, which was brilliant,” he says. “They’re just like high-definition photographs. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that a human had done this.”

Aidan Turner attended an artist’s boot camp before filming started

The series opens in Florence in the 1460s, with Leonardo a pupil of Verrocchio, played by the veteran Italian actor Giancarlo Giannini. Before the shoot Turner and his co-stars went on an artists’ boot camp (brush camp?) supervised by professionals. He says the hardest part was learning to paint, as Leonardo did, with his left hand. He compares it to learning to ride a horse for Poldark, which he pretended he knew how to do before going on a crash course when he got the part.

Brushwork was the same, he says. “I realised I had to get good quite quickly and look like I knew what I was doing with my left hand, which is more difficult than you would think. It’s keeping it steady — you find it just moves around a lot. Leonardo was very slow and precise — I think I got it down. After a few weeks you start picking up the brush with your left hand, it becomes natural.”

Leonardo was a vegetarian, Turner tells me, “and apparently later in life opened some sort of vegetarian restaurant”. He was also gay, something that, despite reports, the series does not shy away from. Was this Turner’s first time kissing a man on screen? He laughs. “Of all the things I was expecting you to ask next, that wasn’t one of them! In a lot of ways it was just another love scene. The fact that the gender was different — that was never a thing. No, it felt right. It didn’t feel any different at all. But yeah, to answer your question, that was the first time, which I’d never really thought of until now.”

What did feel weird, he says, were the Covid protocols. “Suddenly people are wearing masks and shields and hazmat suits. We had a big sanitisation machine as we walked in that would spray us. You take off the mask when you shoot the scene and it’s a bit strange for a second. Then you realise it’s the first time you’ve seen your co-star’s face that day. It’s not conducive to a very creative environment, for sure. But we made it work and nobody got sick.”

Turner spends a chunk of the first episode painting De Angelis, and both actors know what it’s like to be ogled. She has been asked endlessly about her naked locker-room sequence in The Undoing, just as he has been reminded of his shirtless scything scene in Poldark. Before that there was his lusted-after vampire in Being Human and his sexy dwarf in The Hobbit — branded a “dwilf” in some quarters — although that “definitely wasn’t the intention”, he says. “I think I just had less prosthetics on my face. My make-up call was 20 minutes and everyone else was sitting in the chair in the morning for three and a half hours. It wasn’t good to be around the other dwarfs in the mornings, that’s for sure.

“I get why people are interested,” he says of the ogling. “It’s just when it keeps coming up.”

We move on. According to a recent survey Cornwall has overtaken London as the most desirable place to live in Britain. Does he think Poldark played a part in that? He laughs. “Maybe we nudged a few people in the right direction. I think people forgot how beautiful that side of the world is. One of the first reviews of Poldark we read was like: ‘We can’t believe that this is our country, it looks like the south of France.’”

Could Poldark return, and would Turner be in it? If they stuck to the chronology of Winston Graham’s books they would have to leap ahead a few years. Maybe he could play an aged-up Ross Poldark in latex and fake paunch? “I don’t know if I’d be keen on the ageing-up thing,” he says. “It never really works. I don’t know whether they need to be too strict with that gap anyway. There’s the possibility someday, maybe. I enjoyed working with everybody on Poldark, from the writers right down to all the cast and crew. It really is like a family. So I’d be open to chat about it. But not for a while.”

Before that he will appear as the apostle Andrew in The Last Planet, the forthcoming biblical epic from Terrence Malick, revered creator of The Thin Red Line and The Tree of Life. Well, he doesn’t know for sure if he will appear. Actors of the calibre of Rachel Weisz, Mickey Rourke and Jessica Chastain have seen their performances in Malick films vanish during editing.

“You want what’s best for the film. And if you don’t fit into it, you don’t fit into it,” Turner says in the tone of hair-shirt devotion that actors tend to use when talking about Malick. With a cast including Ben Kingsley and Mark Rylance as Satan, the movie is meant to tell the story of Jesus through a series of parables. Turner doesn’t really have a clue, though.

“You don’t necessarily know what you’re signing up to. You’re signing up to Terrence Malick,” he says. The director has “a great way of working. Everything is around ‘where is the sun’ at this particular time. That’s our natural light and it’s all we use. So things happen fast. There’s no trailers, hair, make-up, we’re just all together. You don’t know from day to day what you’ll be doing. It’s quite renegade stuff. That’s the way I always wanted to work.”

It’s closer to the immediacy of the theatre, which is where Turner started out. The son of an electrician, Pearse, and an accountant, Eileen, he represented Ireland at ballroom dancing before falling into acting. After studying at the Gaiety School of Acting in Dublin he acted in plays for five years and in 2018 he returned to the stage to rave reviews in Martin McDonagh’s The Lieutenant of Inishmore in the West End. Rave being the operative word — his performance was bracingly unhinged. “I can’t wait to get back to the theatre,” he says. “That’s what we’re looking at probably next.”

Turner’s character in The Lieutenant of Inishmore was an Irish freedom fighter, but he is reluctant to talk about the prospect of Irish reunification (“So I don’t get shot when I get home,” he told one interviewer). Culture is safer ground, and his native country is going through a purple patch with Sally Rooney in literature, Fontaines DC in music and the likes of McDonagh, Jessie Buckley and Denise Gough in drama. “It tends to happen in waves,” Turner says. “Coming out of drama school, Colin Farrell was such a big thing. When these actors really make it you can feel some of their light begin to shine on the industry back home.”

Like Farrell, Turner is an international star, although it has mainly been in period roles: Poldark, Leonardo, Andrew and his breakout turn as the 19th-century poet Dante Gabriel Rossetti in the 2009 series Desperate Romantics. It must be something about the hair.

That could be about to change, though. Toronto often stands in for New York, which suggests that his current mystery project has a contemporary setting. Does he yearn to act in jeans? “Yeah, you’re right,” he says with a laugh. “After Leonardo, I think tights and knee-length boots are out for a while.” Many would beg him to reconsider.

[captain-ross-poldark]

Poldark’s Aidan Turner on playing Leonardo da Vinci

Ed Potton

Friday 2 April 2021

Aidan Turner takes on the role of Renaissance polymath LeonardoJUSTIN SUTCLIFFE/EYEVIN

I’m trying to work out where Aidan Turner is Zooming from. Is it London, where he moved to in 2017 after his Ross Poldark became the drooled-over king of Sunday-night television? Dublin, where he grew up, trained as an actor and returned to spend the first lockdown with his parents? Or Rome, where he shot his new series, Leonardo, in which he plays a young Leonardo da Vinci?

“None of the above!” Turner says. “I’m in Toronto.” The enigmatic charm, feline eyes and gleaming locks that he deployed so mercilessly in Poldark, The Hobbit films and Being Human are all there. “My missus is working here,” he explains, and so is he. That’s the American actress Caitlin FitzGerald, his partner of three years, whom he met when they starred in the 2018 film The Man Who Killed Hitler and Then the Bigfoot. At first I assume the “missus” is laddish affectation but it turns out that it’s official: Turner and FitzGerald, both 37, got married in secret in Italy in August after filming finished on Leonardo. You can almost hear the sighs of disappointment ripple around the world.

Turner won’t say any more — he is famously guarded about his personal life — but he looks insanely happy in the couple’s rented apartment. FitzGerald — whose grandfather Desmond was a CIA agent and organised several plots to assassinate Fidel Castro — is shooting a series, Station Eleven, in Toronto while her husband works on another project that he’s not allowed to talk about. In their downtime they’ve been watching I’ll Be Gone in the Dark, an HBO documentary series about the Golden State Killer, and, on a lighter note, Ottolenghi and the Cakes of Versailles. They share the apartment with Charlie, an ebullient Norfolk terrier that Turner has to eject from the room halfway through our interview when he starts yapping. “I’m surprised he behaved for so long,” he says.

Eight-part series Leonardo has been criticised for warping historyPA

Like many of his fellow thesps, Turner has been doing a great deal of lockdown painting. “We have a roof garden here and the light has been really good,” he says. “I probably shouldn’t be saying this because I don’t know if the landlord knows. It’s not messy work anyway!” Unlike some of his peers — I’m looking at you, Pierce Brosnan — he has yet to unleash his daubings on the world. How would he describe his style? “I struggle to say abstract, but I haven’t quite figured out what it is yet.” Did it help with playing Leonardo? “I don’t know. If you saw my paintings, you’d assume very much not,” Turner says. He has a studied line in self-effacement, honed after years of “sexiest man on TV” questions.

Leonardo premiered in Italy last month and was watched by seven million, many of them doubtless keen to see Turner brooding in a succession of smocks. The eight-part series has been criticised for warping history, having the artist accused of murder and featuring an apparently fictional muse, Caterina da Cremona, played by Matilda De Angelis from The Undoing. Luca Bernabei, the chief executive of Lux Vide who produced the series, defended it stoutly. “Matilda De Angelis’s character did exist. She was a model Leonardo asked to paint,” he said. “We have been really careful in our research. But this is not a documentary, we are not historians and this is not a university history lecture.”

And if the history pedants are spluttering, the art pedants should be happier — the series goes to considerable lengths to make the painting look authentic. Each episode is themed around a different masterpiece, from the portrait of Ginevra de’ Benci to The Last Supper to the Mona Lisa, and the candlelit cinematography is often sumptuous. Turner’s research included a private view of a Leonardo exhibition. “I spent some time alone with the actual paintings, which was brilliant,” he says. “They’re just like high-definition photographs. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that a human had done this.”

Aidan Turner attended an artist’s boot camp before filming startedVITTORIA FENATI MORACE

The series opens in Florence in the 1460s, with Leonardo a pupil of Verrocchio, played by the veteran Italian actor Giancarlo Giannini. Before the shoot Turner and his co-stars went on an artists’ boot camp (brush camp?) supervised by professionals. He says the hardest part was learning to paint, as Leonardo did, with his left hand. He compares it to learning to ride a horse for Poldark, which he pretended he knew how to do before going on a crash course when he got the part.

Brushwork was the same, he says. “I realised I had to get good quite quickly and look like I knew what I was doing with my left hand, which is more difficult than you would think. It’s keeping it steady — you find it just moves around a lot. Leonardo was very slow and precise — I think I got it down. After a few weeks you start picking up the brush with your left hand, it becomes natural.”

Leonardo was a vegetarian, Turner tells me, “and apparently later in life opened some sort of vegetarian restaurant”. He was also gay, something that, despite reports, the series does not shy away from. Was this Turner’s first time kissing a man on screen? He laughs. “Of all the things I was expecting you to ask next, that wasn’t one of them! In a lot of ways it was just another love scene. The fact that the gender was different — that was never a thing. No, it felt right. It didn’t feel any different at all. But yeah, to answer your question, that was the first time, which I’d never really thought of until now.”

What did feel weird, he says, were the Covid protocols. “Suddenly people are wearing masks and shields and hazmat suits. We had a big sanitisation machine as we walked in that would spray us. You take off the mask when you shoot the scene and it’s a bit strange for a second. Then you realise it’s the first time you’ve seen your co-star’s face that day. It’s not conducive to a very creative environment, for sure. But we made it work and nobody got sick.”

With his wife, the American actress Caitlin FitzGeraldREX FEATURES

Turner spends a chunk of the first episode painting De Angelis, and both actors know what it’s like to be ogled. She has been asked endlessly about her naked locker-room sequence in The Undoing, just as he has been reminded of his shirtless scything scene in Poldark. Before that there was his lusted-after vampire in Being Human and his sexy dwarf in The Hobbit — branded a “dwilf” in some quarters — although that “definitely wasn’t the intention”, he says. “I think I just had less prosthetics on my face. My make-up call was 20 minutes and everyone else was sitting in the chair in the morning for three and a half hours. It wasn’t good to be around the other dwarfs in the mornings, that’s for sure.

“I get why people are interested,” he says of the ogling. “It’s just when it keeps coming up.”

We move on. According to a recent survey Cornwall has overtaken London as the most desirable place to live in Britain. Does he think Poldark played a part in that? He laughs. “Maybe we nudged a few people in the right direction. I think people forgot how beautiful that side of the world is. One of the first reviews of Poldark we read was like: ‘We can’t believe that this is our country, it looks like the south of France.’”

Could Poldark return, and would Turner be in it? If they stuck to the chronology of Winston Graham’s books they would have to leap ahead a few years. Maybe he could play an aged-up Ross Poldark in latex and fake paunch? “I don’t know if I’d be keen on the ageing-up thing,” he says. “It never really works. I don’t know whether they need to be too strict with that gap anyway. There’s the possibility someday, maybe. I enjoyed working with everybody on Poldark, from the writers right down to all the cast and crew. It really is like a family. So I’d be open to chat about it. But not for a while.”

Turner with Eleanor Tomlinson in PoldarkMIKE HOGAN

Before that he will appear as the apostle Andrew in The Last Planet, the forthcoming biblical epic from Terrence Malick, revered creator ofThe Thin Red Line and The Tree of Life. Well, he doesn’t know for sure if he will appear. Actors of the calibre of Rachel Weisz, Mickey Rourke and Jessica Chastain have seen their performances in Malick films vanish during editing.

“You want what’s best for the film. And if you don’t fit into it, you don’t fit into it,” Turner says in the tone of hair-shirt devotion that actors tend to use when talking about Malick. With a cast including Ben Kingsley and Mark Rylance as Satan, the movie is meant to tell the story of Jesus through a series of parables. Turner doesn’t really have a clue, though.

“You don’t necessarily know what you’re signing up to. You’re signing up to Terrence Malick,” he says. The director has “a great way of working. Everything is around ‘where is the sun’ at this particular time. That’s our natural light and it’s all we use. So things happen fast. There’s no trailers, hair, make-up, we’re just all together. You don’t know from day to day what you’ll be doing. It’s quite renegade stuff. That’s the way I always wanted to work.”

It’s closer to the immediacy of the theatre, which is where Turner started out. The son of an electrician, Pearse, and an accountant, Eileen, he represented Ireland at ballroom dancing before falling into acting. After studying at the Gaiety School of Acting in Dublin he acted in plays for five years and in 2018 he returned to the stage to rave reviews in Martin McDonagh’s The Lieutenant of Inishmore in the West End. Rave being the operative word — his performance was bracingly unhinged. “I can’t wait to get back to the theatre,” he says. “That’s what we’re looking at probably next.”

Turner’s character in The Lieutenant of Inishmore was an Irish freedom fighter, but he is reluctant to talk about the prospect of Irish reunification (“So I don’t get shot when I get home,” he told one interviewer). Culture is safer ground, and his native country is going through a purple patch with Sally Rooney in literature, Fontaines DC in music and the likes of McDonagh, Jessie Buckley and Denise Gough in drama. “It tends to happen in waves,” Turner says. “Coming out of drama school, Colin Farrell was such a big thing. When these actors really make it you can feel some of their light begin to shine on the industry back home.”

Like Farrell, Turner is an international star, although it has mainly been in period roles: Poldark, Leonardo, Andrew and his breakout turn as the 19th-century poet Dante Gabriel Rossetti in the 2009 series Desperate Romantics. It must be something about the hair.

That could be about to change, though. Toronto often stands in for New York, which suggests that his current mystery project has a contemporary setting. Does he yearn to act in jeans? “Yeah, you’re right,” he says with a laugh. “After Leonardo, I think tights and knee-length boots are out for a while.” Many would beg him to reconsider.

All episodes of Leonardo will be on Amazon from April 16

https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/poldarks-aidan-turner-on-playing-leonardo-da-vinci-wnmqhxqxr

[lottienatyellowjackets]

i love your maiko headcanons and i need to know your takes on elderly, retirement era maiko. i just know they're thriving on ember island, being badass grandparents, and constantly bickering in that cute old couple way.

eep my first ask this is so exciting!! i love elderly maiko so much the idea of them growing old and being happy and just in love makes my heart so happy. i honestly hadn’t really thought of many before now but here are some i find so <3:

•when zuko abdicates and izumi becomes fire lord, mai and zuko stay in the palace for a few years. i don’t know the exact age he abdicates at, but in my head, he’s eighty four when he abdicates the throne for a forty six izumi. they stay because while their beloved grandson(who they were very hands on with in terms of raising) iroh is thirty, mizuki is thirteen and they want to be there for her teen years.

•they are still ridiculously so in love in their old age!! they’re that elderly couple who have that whole “if lost return to jan” and “i’m jan” way about them. they still kiss and hold hands and all that much to the chagrin of their family (who pretends to hate it but secretly loves how happy they still are)

•a few years into izumi’s reign, they decided its time to leave the palace for sometime(for izumi’s sake, she’s had nearly fifty years of their hovering) and head to ember island.

•on ember island, zuko finally relaxes (except when he’s traveling as an ambassador for peace, which mai sometimes accompanies him with) and writes and directs all the plays he’s ever wanted to.

•mai paints!! she’s always loved art, even as a little girl and her mother deemed it her talent to hone to perfect, and while she always loved it, often it was put on the back burner for Fire Lady, her family and other forms of self care

•she is reminded of how even at republic city university (oops <3 another hc <3) how every student studying art came from money. and she begins to realize of all the galleries in the fire nation, artists were always from prominent families. and zuko realizes almost all the directors/theatre critics too come from families where that kind of career is okay, because you always have family money to fall back on.

•it does not sit right with them that the nobility dominates even the arts in the Fire Nation. so they cut their retirement short and return home to their family and open a center of the arts school for all the children of the fire nation to attend if they so desire. shortly, they open more schools in different provinces of the nation so that way no child would be left out. and they visit the schools often to see what the children of their nation have created and they’re so proud, because this is their country’s future.

•but back to their couple dynamics!! zuko is the guy who embraces his age because he never thought he’d make it to sixteen, never mind late eighties. mai however, does not. she’s the one to round down her age and always make sure everyone knows she is a year younger than her husband. zuko finds it funny how upset she was that she got wrinkles and grey hair like every other elder, much to mai’s chagrin. but he finds her to be the most beautiful, graceful, intelligent and stylish woman even after all their years together and tells her everyday.

•but they bicker!! by the age of eighty nine and eighty eight, they have been married for sixty nine years, which is a long time to be married. they know everything about the other and are happiest together, but they also know what irks the other. zuko claims it “keeps them young and on their toes” to bicker and mai always rolls her eyes fondly.

•out of all their accomplishments as fire lord and fire lady, peace ambassadors, artists, etc, they are most proud that they are parents. they’re the parents who stop people in the street to still brag about their girl, even though she’s a grown adult with children of her own. in fact, even though izumi is in her fifties, zuko (and mai) still get emotional on the regular that they have her (and neither will admit it).

•if they love anything more than being parents, it’s being grandparents. izumi was seventeen when she had iroh and the father was never in the picture, which meant she was trying to handle her role as studying to be fire lord and be a mother, so mai and zuko spent a lot of time with their grandson. and they spoil him rotten!! even as a grown man, iroh knows he’s always going to be given hugs and snuck fruit tarts by his grandparents. and mizuki (i saw a fic once where she had that name and!! i love it!!) who was born many years after iroh, is very much adored by them as well. she emulated mai’s childhood hairstyle her whole youth because she loves her so much. and both mizuki and iroh will say when asked without hesitation the biggest influences on their lives are them.

•also mai dies first, but not for many years after lok, she was off writing poems with mizuki (:

[aerial-aspie]

An Autistic Point of View 2

Hi there! It's Hazel and I'm first going to talk about what it's like to me to be autistic.

So for me I got diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome at the age of 14 and it has helped me understand a lot of my traits, which now I can articulate to you.

I'm obsessive and I mean very obsessive, once I find something I really really like it's all the occupies my brain day and night, everyday and sometimes to the point where I can't focus because all I want to think about is my obsession. A few examples of this was Vocaloid, BTS/K-pop and right now Genshin Impact.

During lessons, I struggled to stay 100% focused at all times because my brain always likes to drift off into dream land and I have to make a big mental effort to reign myself back into reality. This problem affect me when I used to take Chemistry (it was far too hard for my pea brain anyway) and the moment my brain switched off, BOOM! I'd missed a ton of information, even if it was only for 10 seconds.

However, now, after changing subjects and finding the right ones for me, I'm finding it much easier to control my need to daydream and can focus much better.

Next, I am forgetful. Imagine a sieve but only the unimportant information (normally to do with what I'm obsessing over) stays and everything else falls through, no matter how important it is to me. I hurt my knuckles over lockdown learning and needed to ice them frequently and it was very important, however, 2 seconds after remembering I needed to do that, you guessed it! I forgot about it.

Forgetfulness is hard, especially when at school because I need to drill my theory into my brain so hard because I will forget so easily. As well as at school, I have my phone and Alexa full of reminders to tell me to simple tasks such as to update this blog or to practice my piano or else I'd forget.

Lets throw in a weird one now. To be honest even I have no clue if this is an autistic trait but it's certainly something that affects me. When studying or reading I can't listen to any music with English lyrics. Why? Because I focus on the lyrics and draw myself into them and then struggle to concentrate when working because I can understand what's being sung. So my playlists involve game soundtracks, a few screamo bands (you can't understand what they're saying anyways) and Asian pop.

One thing that was said through my diagnosis is that it's possible I could have anxiety for life and as of writing this I'm currently trying to get therapy or medication for it.

Anxiety is isolating, it's painful with its physical side effects (which manifest in chest pains for me), it gives unneeded stress over problems which to others seem minor, it gives me panic attacks which range in severity, it gives a fear embarrassment, of messing up, of standing out, of being DIFFERENT.

Everything about myself I scrutinise, I'm trying to give up chocolate because it gives me so much extra stress that I believe it's unhealthy for myself. I must present myself in a way where I don't seem rude or impolite as I'm scared of how everyone will react. If I get into an argument or something I believe is an argument, I beat myself up about it and I feel like I hurt everyone around me.

I believe I'm a constant annoyance, when I'm around people I'm comfortable with I'm a chatterbox and you can't shut me up. But it makes me self conscious, am I talking too much? Is everyone just being friendly out of obligation? Are they all secretly annoyed at me? Are questions I ask myself daily and blame myself at some points for not being normal.

My brain sticks to the past and words echo my mind for sometimes years giving me fears that others would even know of. Such as the lessons about heart disease in biology always play in my mind to the point I want to give up chocolate because it's giving me so much stress as my brain is like OH MY GOD YOU ATE CHOCOLATE NOW YOU'RE GONNA DIE! And then I get stressed and get chest pains which only further add to it.

Now we got the heavy topic out the way lets move on! Autism has led me to have a fine motor coordination disability which has affect me my whole life, I can't handwrite well, I struggle opening tins, peeling vegetables, unlocking the door to get in my house, using scissors, folding things and the list goes on (and let me tell you it's long).

But you get the gist, I struggle with a lot of things and it can take me a much longer amount of time to work out things than someone normal.

I'm also extremely disorganised, actually that's a lie. I'm extremely organised but it doesn't look it. My room is a mess and I know that but I could tell you where everything is in seconds because it's what I call 'an organised mess'. I organise things but it's not neat, it's just where my brain decides is a good place to put things.

My school bag is so organised to point I don't like people touch it because I know where everything is and it has to be in the same pockets or else I'll get upset because it just has to be there and that is something no one can change.

However, even though I'm on that point of organisation, I still get stressed about if I have forgotten anything even though I never have.

Part of my autism is physical traits too, I am born with weak muscles in many places, the ones I know of so far are my wrists, knees, eyes and lower back. Because of this I can't handwrite long essays and have to have computer support to help me with this problem. With other areas, it's places I know I need to be careful when training at circus because I discovered my weak back after crucifix rolls on a cloudswing went wrong (it's a type of error that will always happen when learning this move) and I locked up my spine, from then on I've never done that move ever again.

Whilst being quite extroverted (only around people I'm comfortable with, if not I'm extremely shy) I'm actually very sensitive to things. I can't be touched suddenly or at my waist or I will flinch or flail and let me tell you, as I martial artist I do hit extremely hard in reflex. I also am sensitive to loud noises when I'm not expecting it, such as seeing war horse the stage show where the sounds of gun shots and explosions were played so loud that I had a panic attack in the theatre. However, at concerts, I'm fine as I'm expecting this loud noise and I know what is coming.

A weird thing I find about myself is that I'm very contrasting, I'm highly emotional but don't understand emotion. My first emotional response to any emotion is to cry and yes it is extremely embarrassing to cry in front of others (I believe crying in public should be normalised not shamed). Yet I can't understand emotion such as when people are sad, I don't realise it and happily talk to them and then feel like they hate me because they ignore me and then beat myself up for not realising they're sad when they tell me so. But it's not just sadness, being talked to in a firm voice, to me means they're angry when they're not, criticism means everything I've done is stupid and you get the point.

However, not only do I not understand emotion normally, I actually at times can't feel it, I get excited before a concert but when it starts I feel nothing, everything I feel just disappears and my mind is blank, so I actually have to force myself to be happy and then my brain realises I'm happy and I don't have to put in effort to sustain an emotion.

Now last but not least (remember how I said I was forgetful, it's already come into play here that I can't even remember if I've covered everything about my Asperger's) I can't do instructions, if I'm given a list of items I need to take, a long list of instructions to follow with no physical copy to reference by the time the last instruction has been said, I've already forgotten the first one and this has been fatal when I've ended up with really bad sunburn because I forgot to bring sun cream because the list I was given was too long to remember.

And that's it folks, my autism is a nutshell that's probably missing some stuff but it's as much as I can tell you from the top of my head and if I remember more stuff I'll make sure to post it.

Thanks for following!

[sugarbutterbroadway]

Hi! Artist!Jack and overwhelmed school Davey Javid headcanons? (Like they both are terrible at taking care of themselves but they will always take care of the other person)

Ohoho I got you dude. Also sorry about how long it is, this headcanon locked me in the basement and wrote itself

Now I can imagine this vividly

•these two would definitely be attached at the hip despite rarely seeing each other—Davey would be taking AP everything and Jack would most likely be in the arts program—so they’re pretty much on separate sides of the school

•the only time they really got to see each other would be lunch and study hall but they make the most of it

•they would be huddled together in the back just sleeping

•Absolutely passed out

•Jacks legs would be on Davey’s lap and Davey’s head would be on his arm

•at first people used to snicker and point *cough cough RACEANDALBERT cough cough* but now it’s just become a normal thing for everyone

•But those were only on the calm days when neither of their classes were giving them too much hell

•But the hectic days were terrible, especially when the term was ending

•Davey would just shut down, it was like he was set to walk on autopilot

•and Jack would never admit it but it scared the hell out of him everytime it happened

•From the end of November to the middle of December Davey lived in the guidance counselors office because he could barely look his teachers in the eye without bursting into tears

•There were no more study hall cuddles because “Not today Jack, I gotta prep for my calculus test”

•or

• “I promise I’ll eat when I get home, I’m just starting to get these Latin flashcards”

•And that didn’t sit well with Jack at all, sure he got the same way during the spring shows when he was on scenic design but this was Davey and it was winter

•He was always hungry and sick and pale and it just reminded Jack of some not good times

•It made him feel powerless knowing there wasn’t much he could do but go through the motions

•But if anyone knew Jack Kelly they knew he was loyal almost to a fault

•And he wasn’t going to let Davey down

•It started with coffee

•waking up just a bit earlier to brew enough for both of them and make it just how Davey liked it

•bring it to school in one of those nice mason jars that Smalls was obsessed with and leave it outside the guidance counselors door with a little note

•Seeing Davey sipping on it through the day made him smile

•So he took a step further and started making breakfast for him

•It was fine, he only had to wake up thirty minutes earlier or so

•But then he realized Davey wasn’t eating lunch either and that wouldn’t do

•And maybe he bought Davey a lunch box and matching thermos set but what he did with his money was his business

•And so what if he started carrying theraflu in his backpack?

•And leaving sticky notes on Davey’s locker?

•He was just doing what any decent person would

•and if he missed Davey at study hall he would never say it because Davey was working hard and making him so damn proud

•This carried on well after the holiday break into the early days of spring

•the theatre program decided they were doing Wizard of Oz and Addams Family back to back

•and it made Jack want to jump off a bridge

•with taking care of Smalls after school and picking Race up from dance practice he barely had time to breathe, let alone design two completely different sets with only five other people!

•he wanted to slam his head in the car door,he wanted to accidentally fall out te window, god damn it he just wanted to sleep!

•But he pushed it down and got to painting cause if he was going to make it in the scenic design industry he had to tough it out, and it would look amazing on his resume

•about a week into drafting and a particularly draining day with Smalls—he loved her to death but when does she rest?—he was ready to pass out in study hall

•Fully prepared to wake up with a crick in his neck and his back hurting

•But right in the back of the class he found a blanket and a pillow tied together with a piece of string and a sticky note that was covered in Star stickers

•”from Davey,Les,Sarah and the parents” it read

•and maybe Jack was smiling in his sleep that day, but again it was nobody’s business

•It seemed to snowball from there

•fuzzy socks left in his locker

•a new water bottle addressed to him left with the drama teacher

•even a god damned Olaf stuffed animal with a note that said “We’ll finally be together in summer”

•It made his heart swell

•They knew before they started dating that it was going to be hard, that they were on completely different paths and would almost never get to see each other

•But the little things like this confirmed to jack what he already knew

•He got a fucking diamond in a sea of rhinestones

•Because even though Jack got really busy it was only ever during the spring shows, Davey was busy all year round and he still showed that he loved him

•And maybe that Olaf stuffed animal lived in his backpack for the rest of the year

•And maybe it found its way to rehearsal more than twice

•But there was one thing he knew and he knew it well

•He couldn’t wait until Summer

@music-of-moonless-skies

[noir0neko]

Crime and Creation | m

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 15.5k

Summary: The Crow Club. One of the University of Ketterdam’s secret societies aimed at recruiting the finest students who want a taste of more than just lectures. Meet Kaz, the founder and president, whose self-made millions come from his dealings on Wall Street. Nina, a girl who is aching for more than the fortune and husband her family has laid out for her. Inej, whose observant nature and ability to be invisible makes her the perfect spy. Jesper, a childhood friend of Kaz’s who can’t resist getting into a little trouble joined by his boyfriend, Wylan, son of the University dean. And Cataleya, an Upper West side journalism major who has a special way with words. When Kaz finds out the Crow Club’s dealings have been infiltrated by an unknown rival, his crew enlists the help of outsiders to ruin reputations, throw lavish parties, and do what the New York City Crows do best: heist. Until something goes very wrong. 

Characters: Cataleya (OC), Kaz Brekker, Inej Ghafa, Jesper Fahey, Wylan Van Eck, Nina Zenik, Alina Starkov, Zoya Nazyalensky, Nikolai Lantsov, Aleksander Morosova and honorable Leoni mention.

Warnings: Death. Highly detailed emotion and inner thoughts that have memories of parental abuse and self harm, nothing very detailed. Mentions of murder, drugs, and illegal activity. General debauchery and scheming. Some romance, mostly implied, light kissing, fondling, and the use of expletives.

A/N: You do not need to have read any of the books in this world to understand this fic! I spent so much time and poured my heart and soul into this story and the development of my original character and building these characters into a new, modern world. Please read it and give me your thoughts! This piece was written for the @grishaversebigbang. Also, check out the art work made for my fic by these amazing artists: @corpsecro, @nantosuelta-art, @discountscoobygang, @lady-ekatherina-de-mika and @mikanviola! It is such an honor to be a part of something like this and I had so much fun! I encourage anyone and everyone to read the Six of Crows/Shadow and Bone series by Leigh Bardugo! It’ll be on Netflix soon!

I used to love cats. 

Until one showed up dead on my window sill. 

I’m still not sure how it got there. Perhaps it climbed the fire escape and lept from the metal railing onto the ledge. But once the animal had the orange pollen and poisonous petals of the lilies sticking out of my window in its mouth, it was only a matter of time before it died. I had the good sense to keep my crying quiet, at eleven years old, so that my father would not stumble in to yell or push the cat hundreds of feet to the street below. I did not know he was already gone. That I was alone.

I hid the orange tabby in my backpack and went to bury her in the backyard garden the next chance I got. 

But when I used my small children’s shovel to dig into the earth, soft from the recent rain, it wasn’t what I went to bury that changed my life. But what was already buried there. And right then, with my cheeks stained with tears and hands shaking with anger, I swore to never stop hunting. To never stop chasing the people who ruined me. 

That was one promise I kept. 

I haven’t kept many others. 

Sitting in the foyer with the rest of the Crows, wind coming in from the autumn afternoon and the scent of freshly made waffles mixing with dusty books, I don’t know if I can keep this one either. Kaz looks at me pointedly, waiting for me to answer. I glance at all of them, Nina, Inej, Jesper, and Wylan. It is rare that anyone outright refuses Kaz on anything, especially not with his position or to risk the weight of his disapproval. Nina once told Kaz to go to Hell and she paid for it with two weeks of silence and banishment from the Crow Library until she relented to do her assignment. 

Jesper clears his throat, trying to relieve the awkward vibe getting thicker with each passing moment of silence. I can’t help but allow a small smile to reach my lips, grateful for him trying to save me from the tension that I could slice with a knife. Swallowing and meeting Kaz’s dark eyes, I sigh. 

“Fine,” I relent. “I’m in.” 

The strain dissolves from the space and the other Crows break into smiles and start to chatter. Relaxing back in my chair, I watch Inej spring up and take her place next to Kaz, her lithe frame complimenting his perfectly. Kaz moves around his large oak desk, gaze fixated on something in the distance. Definitely scheming face. Best to wait it out until he speaks first.

The Crow Library is lit with the afternoon sunlight, warming the leather of our chairs and illuminating the dust gathering along the rows of books. Shelves line the walls beneath the window, behind Kaz’s study area, and underneath the stairwell, which leads to an upstairs reading room and parlor area. Nobody has bothered to read any of the books, weathered and dusted with age, but they lend the room an air of sophistication and a homey comforting smell. Kaz’s desk is littered with papers, the dark wood barely visible beneath the jumble of stock investment deals, new heists, and class assignments waiting to be done. On the front face of the desk, a large crow is carved into the surface, black and red paint covering the indentations in the wood. 

Inej puts a tender hand on Kaz’s forearm, her lips moving quickly and silently, as if whispering to him. Inej has her hair down today, an unusual occurrence from her braided coil, and the dark strands spill like silky oil over her shoulders and her waist. She must have come from the studio, sweat still gleaming on her brow and black leotard disappearing beneath dark navy leggings. Her lithe frame seems to be floating, always so modest and reserved, yet her brown eyes are intuitive and unrelenting as she studies Kaz. She has been with him since the founding of the Crow Club, never missing a beat between helping him, chastising him, watching out for him, and caring for herself all the same. It’s no wonder she’s been able to double major in both Global History and Ballet, two completely different worlds, but complimenting each other perfectly for Inej. 

And Kaz. What an interesting man he’s proven to be. 

Business major. Self made millionaire. First student to be admitted into the University of Ketterdam - UOK for short, without a full high school education. A man full of mysteries. 

Jesper moves to perch himself on the arm of Wylan’s chair and adjusts his Queen shirt, the old black leather groaning under his weight. Jesper says something quietly to his boyfriend before running a hand through Wylan’s curly red hair and kissing his pale pert nose. Jesper has his hair buzzed short to his scalp, dark arms lean with muscle and legs long, his jeans riding up at the ankles to reveal bright yellow socks and black high tops. Wylan releases a wide smile, looking up at Jesper with untamed admiration. Wylan has on a pair of pressed dark wash jeans, his collared shirt maroon red with small white dots, accentuating his bright hair and pale skin. 

It just reminds me of blood. 

They are quite a pair. Wylan, being the son of the University dean and Jesper, one of the most intelligent and talented students in the Economics department. He is studying Game Theory, an extremely intense and complicated subject full of strategy, confidence, and risk: coincidentally Jesper’s three favorite words. 

Wylan, much to his father’s chagrin, is an Art History student with a hidden passion for chemistry and physics. I often find him gazing at the long since forgotten portraits on the walls of the Crow Library upstairs, reminiscing of a different time, of discovery and excitement. Of different people with different secrets. Wylan usually seems lost in thought, often internally reflecting rather than being outwardly vocal like the rest of the Crows. He is another mystery, especially because of the tenuous relationship he has with his father. 

Jesper’s brown skin glimmers in the sun, inclining his eyebrows in mischief before taking a toffee from the bowl next to him and flinging it across Wylan’s chair to Nina. 

Her tongue flicks out as it hits her arm, thick lips smirking before unwrapping the plastic wrapper and popping the candy in her mouth. Nina is one of the only Crows who was forced into attending the University of Ketterdam. Her parents, with her father being an extremely rich and powerful Russian politician and her mother, an aristocratic woman supposedly descending from ancient Russian royalty, had been raising Nina to marry a high ranking Scandinavian commander since she was eleven. The marriage was supposed to secure better relations between the two nations, as well as provide Nina with a life of security, wealth, and status for her and her children. All her parents want for her. 

In true Nina fashion, this is unacceptable. 

Her family said the marriage could wait if she wanted to go to school and get a degree, which may better serve her husband and their families prestige in the future. Seeing no other viable option, especially because she did not want to marry a “white haired barbarian” as she called her husband-to-be, she enrolled in a prestigious university as far away from Russia as she could get. Despite her parents beliefs that she is a culinary student - “because a good wife knows how to cook”, according to her parents, Nina has been studying Performing Arts and Theatre. A perfect major to fit her personality and her beauty, with her tall, curvy frame and piercing green eyes. Today, she is wearing an olive bodysuit, the neck low cutting and her legs hugged by a pair of black flare jeans. Casual and entrancing. Her style seems to change depending on her mood, from modest foreigner to vivacious party girl to preppy student. New each day. 

“We will need others,” Kaz mumbles to Inej, furrowing his dark eyebrows in thought. 

I have only been with the Crows for a few months, but I already know how unusual that is. Kaz rarely asks for help, especially from those outside of the Crow Club. But whatever he has planned seems to be a lot more serious than the other jobs, more personal than merely ousting insider trading, or infiltrating various museums and mansions, or spying on the Upper East and West Side elite to gain intel and use it to our advantage. 

Each of us has a unique purpose to Kaz. His investments. And while it has been easier to see where the others’ talents fit in, I am still baffled by my own. I adjust the sleeves of my lavender shirt, the ruffled material smooth on my shoulders. 

I had known the Crow Club existed before I set foot on campus. As a journalism major, secrets have always intrigued me. Not just the secrets. The challenge of uncovering them, of working from the inside to reveal some of the deepest and darkest parts of humanity. I had always heard whispers of the club amongst the Upper West side elite, whispers about Kaz Brekker and his Crows. Always watching. Always ready to catch you red-handed. But I didn’t even need to go out of my way to find the Crow Club.

Kaz found me first. Called me an asset. He and Inej invited me to join starting the summer before my second term. I have surprised myself by warming up to the rest of the Crows so quickly, even the ones who aren’t active members and are just extra recruits for Kaz to call if he needs them. We all mean something here, we all have a purpose, more than what the world is trying to force upon us.  

A family. Especially since most of ours are broken or nonexistent. 

After a few minutes of waiting, Kaz snaps to attention and we follow suit, like trained soldiers, eager for him to share whatever small slice of his plan that he decides to. His crisp suit is pure black, a small crow brooch pinned to his lapel. The shaved hair on the side of his head is beginning to grow out, the top slicked back with a deep, oaky smelling gel. He always looks like he is dressed for a business meeting, even when it’s just us. Inej always muses that there is an irony to it, but how, I don’t know. I suppose everything is business to Kaz. 

“Okay,” he begins, voice gruff and deep. “This is what we’ll do.” 

----

Nina and I weave our way through the busy streets, blessing the cool wind as it kisses our faces in the dying summer heat. Her hair is down, the sun illuminating the many shades of brown running through the waves and her dress is high on her thighs, the red cotton fabric hugging the curves of her waist. Being in America has done wonders for Nina, brightened her complexion, improved her spirit, and turned her from a wafer-thin girl to a full-bodied, thick thighed woman. Everywhere she goes, people stare. She is otherworldly, like a saint on Earth. 

“Where did Kaz send us this time?” Nina complains, sucking the dripping strawberry ice cream from her fingers before chucking the cone into a nearby trash. 

“He didn’t,” I grin, dodging a guy with suspicious looking flyers on the sidewalk. “He gave us his card and very vague instructions to find a wardrobe for the event.” 

Nina’s eyes sparkle, cleaning off the rest of her fingers before she entwines her elbow in mine. New York City seems to breathe with our every step, the wind moving, the heat unfurling, and the trees swaying. Taxis and cars whiz by on the avenue, the honking of horns and the laughter of tourists crossing into Central Park filling the air. Everything about New York is alive, even the concrete holds stories it’s waiting to tell. 

“Then let’s go down Fifth,” Nina begins, mischief in her tone. “I know a few places.” 

“I bet you do,” I flash her a smile, crossing the street so we walk parallel to the park. 

We trek down the street, stopping into a macaron shop in the Plaza Hotel to get a bright blue bag full of sweets for us to eat on our journey. Nina and I are bouncing on our heels, excited to have a day to ourselves, away from the Crow Club and the University and being responsible for buying dresses for not only ourselves, but for Inej, Alina, and Zoya, as well. 

Kaz had three extra students brought in for this assignment, all a part of the secret network of Crows that don’t sit in regular meetings. First is Alina, who has an international reputation for rebuilding schools and orphanages across the world since she was thirteen, and who has been a Crow since her first step onto campus. She transferred here as a graduate student from some extremely prestigious school in California to complete her PhD and teaching credentials. Every time I have seen Alina, she has been so kind and so helpful, always eager to teach, serve, and build in any way she can. It’s beyond me why she wants to be a part of these operations. Maybe every good girl has a naughty streak. 

Zoya, on the other hand, seems like the opposite of Alina. A close friend, confidant, and suspected girlfriend, of another one of Kaz’s network of Crows, Zoya is an overly intelligent, intimidating, and obscenely beautiful law student. Her hair is always smooth, a jet black slate against her back and her eyes are always piercing, judging and observing in their ice blue. Her skin always looks perfectly tanned, a deep brown that makes the pink of her lips more enticing. Her grades are pristine, her ability to argue is unparalleled, and if there were ever a force to be reckoned with, it is her. It’s a lot more obvious to understand why she agreed to join the Crows, for the prestige, the knowledge, the power. But truly puzzling, is her relationship with Nikolai. 

Nikolai, or Nik, as I like to call him, is one of the best - and funniest, Crows. Clever, self-deprecating, friendly, handsome, the list goes on. His blonde hair is a shaggy mop of artsy goodness, his skin is creamy, his style completely unmatched and his wealth bottomless. Nik and Kaz are always butting heads; most of the time it’s the only comedic relief the Crow Club has when they’re together. Nik met Zoya during undergrad, in a political science course, where apparently their discussions were lively enough to earn them A’s and lengthy enough to last entire class sessions. Nik has one of those family names that are revered in every elite social circle, making him an obvious addition for Kaz’s team and from what I have gleaned from Nik, he decided to join the Crows to give him something interesting to do besides follow in his father’s footsteps. I wish I wanted to be a Crow out of boredom. 

“God,” Nina groans, shoving her phone back into her five thousand dollar purse. “If I get one more message from my parents asking if I’ve heard from that white-haired, rule-following, stick-up-his-ass, Scandinavian inbred, I am going to drown my phone in the Hudson River.” 

“Wow,” I clap for her, avoiding the incredulous gapes of tourists at her language. “So many adjectives and I don’t even think you’ve ever said his name.”

A man opens up the glass doors to Bergdorf Goodman’s, where cool air and white marble greet us. Immediately, we drift to the dress racks, combing through all of the latest trends.

“Matthias,” she almost growls. “His letters are so proper, telling me that he has heard of my exemplary womanly skills from my parents. That he would delight to see my drawings and sewing and hear me play the piano. It’s ridiculous. I don’t do any of those things by choice.” 

I stifle a laugh. “He seems very… traditional.” 

“Seems?” She throws her hands up, shoving a silk dress back onto the rack with too much force. “He is the definition of the word! And worst of all, he’s attractive! He has snow white hair and is built like one of those huge wrestler guys that people watch on TV.” 

“Why is that a problem?” 

“Because his complete lack of competence makes him a barbarian! A man who thinks the perfect wife is silent and docile. He’s going to have another thing coming when I show up.” 

“He comes from old money in an old country,” I begin, wondering whether I need to tread lightly. “Don’t you think he’s just taught to think that way?” 

She sighs, holding up a stunning evergreen gown against her figure. “I know he is. That’s what’s even worse. I know that everyone where he is from has been taught those values. So even if he came to love me, to understand me, no one on the outside would. His station, his reputation, his fortune, all of it is dependent on how I perform. How I reflect him.” 

“That doesn’t seem fair,” I muse, holding out another red silk dress for her. 

“Money isn’t fair.” 

I blink, surprised at her words. Money is just an object. It has no preference, no deference, no opinions. But I guess the idea of money is more important and tangible than the paper itself. Money has value and expectations beyond the faces staring back at you from the press. It expects manners, it breeds tradition and hierarchy and perfect wives who aren’t allowed to make any. I wonder if Nina will end up bending to those wills, to the one’s she has been raised to. America is such a different place, but I guess money everywhere is the same. It controls you. 

“This.” 

I turn around, face breaking out into a huge smile at the dress Nina is holding. It is a deep purple, with sheer shoulder sleeves and a deep plunging neckline covered in diamond flowers. The waist is cinched, belted by more glittering gems, before it falls and flows in layers of purple silk and satin to the floor, flowers and vines curling around the skirt. Nina’s hair and eyes and skin would look angelic in the dress. I nod fervently, unable to cap my smile as she waves over an employee to open the dressing room. 

While in the dressing rooms, Nina and I talk through the divider. 

“Where was Wylan off to earlier?” I ask, taking off my clothes and folding them neatly on the small leather bench. “He never really seems to be around these days.” 

“Yeah,” Nina says, with a grunt. “He’s been trying to rekindle his relationship with his father, studying a lot. You know, the usual dysfunctional family stuff.” 

I laugh. “My family wasn’t dysfunctional in that way.” 

“I would say you were lucky,” Nina begins and I can hear her zipper up as mine does. “But I know you weren’t.” 

At the same time, we step out of the dressing room, identical smiles breaking open our faces before we clasp our hands together and squeal with happiness. The dresses look perfect, we look perfect, everything looks perfect. 

And now we just have to find dresses for Alina and Zoya. 

With these price tags, Kaz is going to regret lending us his credit card. 

----

“Something Kaz Brekker doesn’t know how to do,” I tease a few days later,“drive.” 

He shoots me a healthy side glare, uncurling his fingers from around the steering wheel. The sun is shining through the left side of the car, illuminating his high cheeks and arched brow bones with dazzling light. If Kaz weren’t so… him, I’m confident he would have made an amazing Calvin Klein model. Especially because his lips are always relaxed in a bit of a natural pout and his resting stance is so relaxed, yet also confident. He is striking. 

And he doesn’t belong to me. Nor do I think he ever will. 

Despite their claims and attempts to put distance between their relationship, it has become common knowledge in the Crow Club that Kaz and Inej are a package deal. And it doesn’t take a trained Journalism major to read between those lines. It is blindingly obvious in the subtle ways she touches him, the way his gaze softens when he looks at her. She is the ice to his fire, and when needed, he is the same for her. A complimentary pair in every way, even if it seems unlikely on the surface. 

“Okay,” I begin, gesturing to the automatic gears between us. I explain what each of the letters stand for, instructing him to move the clutch into reverse and slowly ease up on the brake. With a bit of a jerk, Kaz obeys, turning the wheel to back us out of the spot in the empty parking lot. It had taken a bit of a road trip to find this place outside of the city. I had driven Kaz and myself into New Jersey, where the early morning dawn had just begun to crest, giving our driving lessons an advantage. Kaz had immediately, and somewhat reluctantly, urged me to teach him, claiming we would need it for this assignment. Inej had pushed him along with the conversation, rolling her eyes at how his own pride blocked up his request. 

“Now go back into drive,” I say, lurching forward when he does and pushes his foot down too forcefully on the gas pedal. He turns in circles around the empty lot, taking care to avoid the lamp posts. On every straight away, Kaz seems to hit the gas with a little more force, graceful turns giving way to concussion-inducing races. It seems he has the turning part down, but the lurching and jerking of the car would get him pulled over quickly. 

And although Kaz will no doubt be having a new fake I.D. made by one of our extra Crows, the risk of involving a police officer is not one any of us want to take. 

“Slow down there, Nascar.” I laugh.

He eases up, taking his time to get used to the ebb and flow of the vehicle. Where he got the car is beyond me, but I am also beyond questioning Kaz’s ability to secure random and often, complicated, objects for our heists. He has become my biggest puzzle, my biggest mystery to solve. And if it hasn’t been one hell of an adventure trying to figure him out. Observing him and listening and learning his subtle tells when he is angry or pleased or scheming. Lately, though, it feels as if the obsession for uncovering his truths have blossomed into something else, something that makes my heart race a little faster and my palms sweat. Something I haven’t been able to control. And how I hate not being in control. 

“Turn out onto the street,” I instruct, forcing myself to speak and get out of my own head. 

He obliges, the car absorbing the bumps in the curb as Kaz makes a graceful right turn. His black gloves glide smoothly along the steering wheel, the sleeve of his shirt riding up to expose a sliver of his pale wrist. My mind begins to wander again, to whether or not Inej has touched them, if she has held his wrists down as she gracefully slid on top of him. I wonder if she has kissed him, if he whispers her secrets to her like some sort of sexy spy pillow talk. 

“Cataleya,” Kaz is saying, the four syllables of my name like chimes from his mouth. 

“Sorry,” I shake my head, swallowing and casting him a glance. “What?” 

“Where are we going?” He repeats, monotone and bored. 

His driving has already gotten smoother, his feet steady on the brake and gas as I tell him to pull onto the dirt on the side of the two-lane road and turn around. There are still no cars out here at this hour, an Amtrak just beginning its morning route on a station in the distance. I can see the outline of the city beyond the valley, half blocked by trees and tall grass. The skyscrapers are haloed by the rising sun, like a safe haven calling me back home. 

“Who taught you to drive?” Kaz says, his raspy voice surprisingly light. 

“A friend I had growing up,” I reply, surprised.

“That’s a nice friend,” he comments, voice taking on an edge I don’t understand. 

I snort. “Yeah, well, I didn’t have any family to do it.”

His hands tighten on the steering wheel ever so slightly and if I weren’t observant I probably would have missed it. The way he tenses up. The way his jaw clenches and the car begins to move a bit faster as his foot locks onto the gas. “Me either.” 

“I found my mother dead.” The words are out of my mouth before I realize it. Kaz’s gaze shifts a bit, but he keeps his focus on the road as I continue. “I went to bury a dead cat in my mother’s old garden. We never touched it, my father never tended to it, or let me, after he said she left us. But when I went out to the garden and began to dig, I lost track of time, I dug far deeper than I intended. My father wasn’t home, I wanted to be there, in that garden, and away from him if he came home, for as long as possible. I didn’t realize how far I had dug until,” I swallow, inhaling and turning to Kaz. “Until a hand began to form beneath the dirt, and then an arm, and I saw the wedding ring, the bruises, the blue of her dress…” 

Kaz’s lips part, the only admission of emotion he gives. 

“The coroner said she had been dead for four months. Four months,” my voice broke, splintered on the fragments of my memories. “That she had been beaten and buried there. They couldn’t… couldn’t prove it was my father. He had money, lots of it. And he paid a lot of people to keep quiet.” 

“Is that why you love journalism?” Kaz asks, slowing the car to ready his turn back into the empty lot. “Exposing them? Making them pay with more than their blood money and with plain blood?”

I inhale, lips curling back in more of a snarl than a smile. “Everyone I knew. Everyone I knew who was involved. I have made them pay. In some form.” I throw Kaz a true smile, a devilish gleam in my eyes. “Although I suppose you already know that. It’s why Inej noticed me in the first place.” 

“One of the many reasons,” Kaz replies, words back to being clipped, tight. 

With a smooth arc of the steering wheel, Kaz turns the car into the same spot as before, hitting a little too hard on the brake before coming to a stop. My hair moves in front of my face at the jolt, a blessed curtain separating me from him. I can feel him thinking, churning over my words, assessing me. 

Kaz hardly seems fazed as I peek at him around my hair. His dark eyes are far away, his gloved hands slack on the wheel. I still myself, hearing the purr of the car engine, hearing Kaz’s breathing, shallow and uneven, as he goes into the place he so rarely dives. His eyes are almost glazed, like he’s been drinking, completely lost in his own thoughts. I know some of his story already. From Nina. From Jesper. From my research. 

“Your brother,” I murmur, soft and low. 

His hands tighten on the wheel until they are bone white, staring straight ahead at the tree lined landscape. “Jordie,” he pushes through his teeth. “His name was Jordie.” 

My spine straightens. Kaz has never said anything about his brother, and has never allowed any of the Crows besides Inej into his life in this way. And I wonder how far he has even let her in. I swallow, questioning if I should press or let it be. I am just about to get out and switch places with him to take us back into the city, when he opens his mouth and to my bewilderment, continues to speak. 

“My parents were mixed up in some bad stuff before we came here. We lived in the countryside, with a bit of land and no one around us for miles. My brother was older than me, only by four years, but enough to know how to keep me from looking where I shouldn’t. From keeping me happy and sheltered.” A muscle flickers in Kaz’s jaw, his pale skin going ashier with each word, “I didn’t know what was happening when they came. The thugs my parents had been hopping between towns, cities, and states to avoid for over a decade. Jordie took me, the remaining cash from the safe, that my father had stolen, and fled to New York City. He hoped we would be invisible among so many people.” 

I don’t know I am holding my breath until I release it, low and shaky. Kaz is silent again, staring off, flexing and unflexing his fingers against the steering wheel, like a silent reminder that he is here. 

“Are they alive?” I ask, voice so silent it’s almost nothing. 

“I don’t know,” Kaz admits. “But we never heard from them. I’ve never heard. So I can only assume not. And I don’t think I would want to see them if they were.”  

“And Jordie…?” I venture, terrified to hear more, but also terrified he’ll clam up. I am desperate for more. Desperate to know him. 

“We weren’t safe here. They found us. Or, found Jordie. While I was gone.” Every single syllable from his lips are forced and painful, laced with self loathing and regret. Survivor's guilt. “I was supposed to be there, but Jordie had sent me away. On an errand down in Brooklyn. He knew we were trapped, and wanted me to live, if he couldn’t. If Jordie could convince them he was alone and I had been shipped somewhere else... ” He breathes in and out, slowly and deeply, focusing on some point in the distance. “They ruled it as a suicide. He had cut his own throat, only his DNA on the knife, only his blood… I don’t know if he did it before they came. Or if they staged it. The not knowing. The guessing. That’s what makes it worse.” 

“So you look for control in other places.” I say. “In the market. In investment. In the Crows. I do the same thing.” 

“The Crows stand for the same thing you do, Cataleya.” Kaz says, looking at me with an intense stare. “Exposure. We want things to be different. We want people to pay, truly pay, for what they have done. Instead of buying silence. Buying lies. We want the truth. Only the truth.” 

His words pierce me, his black hair stark against his forehead, shaved sides longer than he normally keeps them. His eyebrows are set in a hard determined line, lips closed, and jaw locked in determination. I know he made those people pay, the ones who took his brother from him. I can see it on his face. 

“How did you survive?” I begin, “without him?”

Kaz licked his lips and let out a low chuckle. “Our money was gone. But we knew some people. Kids we met on the street. They made me a fake to get into bars with; I was barely sixteen by that time, but I looked older. Rougher. I had a skill for counting cards and made a small fortune quickly by playing in run down joints and eventually, working my way into larger, more expensive establishments. It was hard, I lived and breathed revenge, for Jordie. I wanted to have him back. To have something that was mine. I built up a small fortune, studied the market, and began investing. By the time I applied to the University of Ketterdam it didn’t matter that I only had my GED and no family, my self-made fortune was enough.” 

“But why here?” I ask, furrowing my brows in confusion. “Why school at all?” 

Kaz continues to look at me, eyes blazing. “Because we had a dream. Jordie and I. We had a dream that we would never forget what happened. That we had to run. And that when we were older, more settled, we would build something here. In New York City, something that would last. Something with a legacy. Like Crows, Jordie had said, symbolizing death but themselves being alive. We were dealt bad luck and would bestow it on others who deserve it.” 

“Thus, The Crow Club,” I finish his sentence, gaze roaming his face. “A secret society at one of the world’s best universities that would have a legacy. Have prestige. Have a family.” 

“Something that is mine,” Kaz’s lips part, wet from his tongue. 

“Yes, yours.” I echo. 

We are both silent for a few moments. Weighing our words. Our truths. Even the trees outside seem to stop in the wind, leaves quiet and branches unwavering. Kaz has opened up in a way I have never seen before. Never expected. He has been through so much. So much like me. Dealt with death. Loss. Life. We aren’t so different. None of the Crows are. 

“What about the others?” 

“Those aren’t my stories to tell,” Kaz responds, voice returning to its detached state.

I nod, once, accepting. I know a few of them already. Nina. Wylan. The new recruits. But Inej and Jesper are mysteries. Complete and whole geniuses shrouded in questions. I don’t like questions. Especially ones I can’t answer. 

“How did you survive? With him?” Kaz’s voice rings again, reflecting my earlier question. His words are too big for the small car, inhaling deeply through my nose as a small smile graces my lips. His long fingers move the shift into reverse to back out of the spot to drive us back to the city himself. The true test of his skill on the Manhattan streets.  

“That friend. The one who taught me how to drive,” I reply, a bit of wistful nostalgia filling my tone. “He helped me. Took care of me. Looked after me.” 

“Past tense?” He inquires, feet smooth as he presses on the gas pedal. 

“We are still friends,” I say. “I think. Things are just… different.” 

“Different. That’s an understatement.” He replies, voice drenched with irony. “Everything is different, isn’t it, depending on how you look at it.”

I nod and laugh, giving him a compliment on how swiftly he picked up driving before we settle into a comfortable silence. Crows. Allies. Friends. If we can call ourselves that. 

I hope we can. 

----

Today, I am supposed to meet the enemy. 

Kaz told me yesterday he set up a rendezvous at one of the campus coffee spots and that there would be someone waiting for me there. Someone he wouldn’t name. Someone that I am supposed to gather information from. Someone who thinks we are on a date. 

I had almost hit him when he pulled up his phone to show me the fake dating profile that was made for me. Pictures of me smiling, laughing, most of them pictures I didn’t even remember taking, all glowed brightly at me, accentuated by a bio that said I liked my men tall, dark, and tortured. 

How cliche. 

“Nina made it,” Kaz had shrugged then returned his phone back to his pocket. 

“And you would be surprised by how many matches you made,” Inej’s voice was laced with humor, lilting into the room without a trace. 

“She’ll walk you over,” Kaz said, gesturing around the room to her unknown location. “Like any dutiful girl would for her best friend about to go on a date from an app. Then, you’ll just need to proceed as normal. Ask him about his life, his job, his degree, his connection to UOK. All the basics. The main concern is reading him out for a vibe, his family has had a lot of influence in some shady shit and he’s from another society here.”

So that’s what this was about? Some sour deals that probably put Kaz out of some easy money and a rival society that was challenging Kaz’s position in the control of campus secrets and his standing legacy? I don’t feel like that is the whole story, but that’s all that Kaz was willing to give me at the time. 

And he hadn’t said anything this afternoon when I had gone into the Crow Library to meet Inej. He acted like nothing ever happened, like he hadn’t revealed some of his darkest secrets to me. Like we hadn’t shared a moment of… something. He barely looked at me from his desk, hair rumpled and face flushed from stress, in my tight long sleeve dress and tights, combat boots laced up around my ankles in case this random guy got the wrong idea. 

The air outside had turned to autumn, giving us an unusually cold and windy day. I was puttering around and trying to think of something to say to Kaz, when Inej came down the staircase with silent feet, dressed in a pair of black leggings and a cream knit sweater. Her hair had been mused in the back and her face also looked a bit red. I had almost laughed, looking between her flushed state and Kaz’s slightly red cheeks, before giving Inej a knowing quirk of my eyebrows. 

And now, outside of the library and alone, walking across the cobblestoned campus paths with autumn leaves falling around us, I turn to her. “Do I even want to know?” 

“It’s college,” she replies, so quiet it’s almost to herself. “Things happen.” 

“Things don’t just happen with Kaz Brekker.” 

She looks at me, face breaking out into a blinding smile that splits her beautifully baked face. “They do when he’s in a rather… compromising position.” 

“Inej!” I release the laugh I’ve been holding, the now pulled back coil of her hair showing off the reddened tips of her ears. Since I have known of Inej, she has always been rather modest. Sure of herself in a quiet way. The kind of confidence that doesn’t need reassurance or shields. Inej herself is a shield, a force of silent secrets she keeps hidden beneath the unsuspecting lithe of her dancer’s frame. 

We take a right turn down one of the main campus paths, small walkways opening up into a large courtyard. Students mill about, sitting on statues, kissing underneath the garden archways, reading books on their way into classes. The University of Ketterdam has always been such an eclectic place, not only because of its location in New York City, but because of its campus. Lush, green, beautiful. An ode to history and architecture and modernity all the same. The programs here are some of the best in the world and while tuition isn’t cheap, the value of a Ketterdam degree is worth it. 

“Is it bad that I kind of do want to know though?” I begin, not even sure what I’m saying. 

“No,” Inej says, voice thoughtful and not defensive in any way. This is why I love Inej. So honest and unafraid. “I think everyone wants to know about Kaz. Everyone wants to be the hero that solves the mystery or the lover that turns a prince from darkness.” She pauses, looking around at the students, seeming lost in thought. Her dark eyebrows crease together, as if in thought or sadness. “Some people just can’t be saved.” 

I can tell she’s referring to Kaz. But I’m not sure if I agree. I think everyone can be saved. I think darkness lives in everyone and all a person needs is a bit of light to show them through. People weren’t born into darkness, or evil, they were made that way. Through that, they could be unmade. And Inej has enough light and strength in one of her hands to see any person through the blackest of tunnels. I think of what Kaz had said to me, in the car, about his story, about his desire for revenge. For retribution. Maybe I want to believe we can be saved from the darkness because I want to be saved. Because like calls to like. And there is a deep chasm within Kaz that sings to me. 

Inej moves her head to look at me, a full and unabashed gaze that somehow makes me uncomfortable. Like she can see straight to my soul. Like she can see every lie I have told or every promise I have broken or every secret I have kept. Like she can see my desires and my shame and my longing for things I can’t have.

“But we love them anyway, don’t we?” She finishes, giving me a contemplative look. 

I think of the people I love, the people I did love, when there were still people in my life that were capable of receiving such a thing; people who were dark and painful and I still loved them anyway. Love can be such a blinding thing. Blinding and binding. 

“Yeah,” I echo, her reflective tone rubbing off onto my voice. “We do.” 

The both of us descend into silence as we continue to walk across the quad. I begin to feel my stomach turn, my palms sweat. No matter how many times I have done this, not dates, but encounter new people, this feeling returns. Every time I have to meet someone new, report on something, present something for a class, I would feel anxiety grip my insides and twist. When I was younger, that anxiety was terrifying, it made me cower, it made me scared. But as I got older, I began to use it and cling to it. I began to form it into an entity that gave me courage instead of taking it, something that would ground me to myself and propel me into my fears. 

Inej begins, “Kaz texted and said he’s outside. Reading. Good luck.” Then she’s gone.

Steadying my breath, the smell of coffee hits my nostrils as I round the library steps to the small path beside it. The coffee shop is nestled into the side of the huge, brick building, almost like a tumor sprouting from the side. Inej has completely disappeared, only leaving the familiar scent of herbs in her wake. She is supposed to be going up the library steps to find a good vantage point from one of the many windows facing the coffee shop on the building’s side. Students move around through the cafe windows, in and out of the doors, little bell ringing to signal both arrival and departure. 

But I am not paying attention to any of them. 

Because there is a boy. A man. Sitting at one of the tables outside, his long legs stretched underneath the opposite chair, wearing a pair of leather sneakers. His long fingers are thumbing through a novel, covers worn and pages yellow with age. He can feel someone there, looking, sitting up and turning in that little metal chair to see who. To see me. 

It’s Alek. 

I blanch, mouth going dry and jaw slackening. I know him. I more than know him. I- 

“Cataleya,” his voice is pure night, laced and dripping with stars. He doesn’t seem surprised to see me, not even phased. Not that I have ever seen him look surprised. I flash back to that day in the garden, to his hands on my face, wiping my tears, to his arms around me, murmuring condolences, to the face that I could see through my blurred tears. Dark hair, pale skin, beautifully big gray eyes. I had barely known him, barely seen him despite our houses being right next door, despite our windows being on opposite sides of the alley and me being able to spy on him when his curtains were parted at night. 

“Aleksander?” I stand a little straighter, gathering my shock and shoving it deep down. 

He smiles, standing up from the chair on the patio of the coffee shop. He is so tall, taller than I remember. His dark jeans are fitted against his legs and the black long sleeve button down he is wearing shows off a large portion of his impeccable chest. I don’t remember when the last time I saw him was, but I definitely don’t recall feeling the pulsing and intense heat that flashes through my body when I look at him. I suddenly feel naked. And stupid. 

Is Kaz trying to kill me?

Swallowing thickly, I scan the windows on the side of the library for Inej, wondering if she has already found a perch to play spy. The sun reflects off of each glass surface in the afternoon light, making it impossible to see through any of them. Blowing a breath through my lips, I attempt to quell the storm brewing and churning in my stomach. 

“What a wonderful surprise this is,” Alek starts. 

I catch the edge in his voice, the way the tone lilts at the end. A tell of how much this encounter is not a surprise. For him anyway. But I smile, I nod and I watch as he fluidly closes the distance between us and takes me in his arms. 

I hate how I exhale. 

How my whole body relaxes. 

I hate how good it feels. 

Like coming home. 

He smells like winter and barren tree branches, like snow and absence of light. Like a dark night wrapping me in its embrace and taking away the pain that days bring. Peaceful and mysterious all the same. Just as I remember it. Just as I remember him. 

“Since when did you start wearing all black?” I joke as he pulls away, gesturing to his outfit. “Are you some kind of darkling now?” 

He gives me a blinding grin, chuckling under his breath. 

“Something like that.” 

He gestures us back over to the table and I sit across from him, back rigid and legs crossed. I feel like a mannequin, still and stoic, despite the intense pounding of my heart and rush of blood through my veins. 

“How have you been?” He asks, leaning back in his chair with an amused look on his face. “I must say I was very surprised when your profile popped up Tinder.” 

I clench my jaw, working my teeth against each other. “Yeah, so was I.” 

Tilting his head to the side, Alek studies me, eyes unabashedly roaming from my face to my chest to my waist, to my legs visible on the side of the table. I swallow, trying to clear the unfamiliar lump in my throat before I speak. 

“But I’m good. Great, even. But I didn’t even know you are here. That you went here in the first place.” 

“It’s a temporary thing,” Alek responds. 

“Temporary?” I push. 

“I’m just getting a business credential for the semester,” he says, airy and dismissive. 

I narrow my eyes at him, hoping he can feel the suspicion and annoyance radiating from my look. He drums his fingers on the table, weighing my stare with a measured, even gaze that infuriates me further. I always hated when he did this when we were kids. Always challenging me. Always trying to get me to back down. Luckily, our time apart has sharpened my detective skills and my comfort with confrontation. 

Alek sighs, blinking slowly. “Fine. I’m here because of you.” 

My jaw slackens. 

Because of me? 

“I missed you,” he whispers, in a rare display of vulnerability and affection, before reaching across the table to take my hand. 

Fire lashes up my wrist and arm, chills spreading in its wake. His touch is electrifying me, his skin like a hot branding iron pushing into me with delicious pain. Alek’s jaw is set, the hard lines on his chin lined with stubble. I want to take his face in my hands and kiss him. I want to feel him against me and get lost in the impossibly deep gray ocean of his eyes. 

“Where were you then?” I venture, pushing down the pressing anxiety. 

“I had a lot to deal with after my dad died,” he responds, voice detached and noncommittal. “I’m really sorry I let our relationship fall away, but I didn’t want to drag you down into my grief. You’ve always had enough on your plate.” 

“You helped me through grief.” My tone steadies. “I wanted to help you.” 

He huffs, “I didn’t want your help.” 

The words are like a slap in the face, pulling my hand from his with a start. His dad’s death had been very abrupt and unexpected, launching Alek into a world of unknown wealth and property and an accumulation of other assets he wasn’t even aware his father had. His death was ruled under suspicious circumstances, but no leads were ever found for a murderer or any other sort of foul play. And with Alek’s mother long gone to cancer, he found himself newly eighteen and alone in the world. Except he wasn’t alone. He always had me. 

Alek releases a breath, eyes softening as he leans back in his chair, aware of the mistake in his harsh words. He pushes a hand through his hair, the dark waves parting for his hand like a saint in the sea. 

“I don’t mean it like that. I wanted you to be there, Cataleya. But some things you have to do on your own, you know? I had so much to figure out and sort through and… it was overwhelming.” 

I nod, chewing on the inside of my cheek. Alek was never the kind of guy to ask for help, especially not from people he is close to. He always did things alone, always felt weak for not building his own empire, his own legacy, his own destiny, without anyone else. But two years, I haven’t heard from him in two years and now here he is. In front of me. Asking for some sort of forgiveness. Is there anything to forgive? The pit in my stomach says yes. But my throbbing heart and other throbbing parts of me say no. 

“I missed you, too.” 

A small smile blossoms across his face, the sight beautiful and stupefying. 

“I can’t help but notice you walked here with Inej Ghafa,” he starts and my alert senses begin to tingle. “Isn’t she a part of Kaz Brekker’s Crow Club?” 

“How do you know about that?” I ask before I can help myself.

“Anyone who is anyone knows about Kaz,” he responds, almost spitting his name. 

“Okay…” I begin, unease settling into my stomach like a stone. “But why do you?” 

“He has something I need.” 

The stone becomes a boulder. 

“Are you-” I stop, then start again. “You’re the one that this is for.” 

“If by “this”, you mean whatever scheme he is planning to trap me in, then yes.”

“But why? How do you even know him? Don’t you know who he is and what he does? What are you thinking going against Kaz?” I ask urgently, struggling to keep my voice low. 

He pins me to the chair with a dead look. “He has debts he needs to pay.” 

“You’re going vague again?” I shake my head, irritated with his bipolar intensity then flippancy. “You need to back down. Or you’re going to end up hurt.” 

A smirk tugs at his full lips, “Your lack of faith in me is really inspiring, Cataleya.” 

“It’s not that,” I retort, exasperated, crossing my arms. “Kaz is really powerful. With more networks and connections than you know. If you don’t stop whatever crusade you have on him, you’re the one that’s going to end up indebted.” 

He laughs this time, a full and deep laugh that surprises me. “Has he really dug his talons that deep in you? That you’ve forgotten how wide my own connections spread? How cunning I can be?” 

“We haven’t spoken in two years,” I respond, pettily. “I don’t know you at all anymore.” 

He leans forward, eyes incredibly dark and face serious. “You know that’s not true.”

I hold his stare, raising my eyebrows, feeling satisfied that I made my point. Alek reaches across the table and places his palm up on it in invitation. I can see the veins of his inner wrist, with dark ink snaking across the blue and disappearing under his shirt sleeve. He didn’t have any tattoos when I last talked to him. My fingers itch to push back the fabric and see them. His secrets. Like Kaz’s, they are so plain on his skin yet hidden through metaphors and signs. 

Licking my lips, I push out a breath and put my hand atop his, feeling his eyes follow mine to where the ink is displayed. Without saying anything, he pushes the sleeve of his shirt up his forearm, stopping at the inner crook of his elbow. 

Inhaling and holding, I blink at the constellation on the inside of his forearm. A night sky, swirling with black and dead space, with creatures in between zombies and ghosts with huge demon wings flying through it. There is a ship at the base of his wrist, a small stern gliding through dark sand, a tiny speck compared to the massive size of the creatures flying above it. It is dark and torturing and incredibly impassioned. I let the pads of my fingers drift softly up Alek’s arm, watching goosebumps form on his skin. 

“What are they?” I ask. 

“They’re called volcra,” Alek says. “Beings that live in darkness and are afraid of light. They feed on those who come into their path, who are unable to see or defend themselves in the black sea of sand.” 

“It’s so… intense.” I search for the right word to describe it, coming up short. 

“I want to remind myself to not be afraid of light. Of happiness. That the things that I may think make me weak, really make me strong. I need to find more light, to find my light. I have been full of darkness for a long time, Cataelya. I’ve lived in a thousand moments of it.” 

I tilt my head, fingers pressed into the inside of his elbow and looking up at him through my lashes. His eyes are trained to the spot where our skin is meeting, his lips parted and eyebrows furrowed a bit in the middle. I resist the urge to flatten it with my thumb, letting the wind and the sound of other students fill the silence between us. 

“You were the only light in my life for a long time,” I say to him, tracing the volcra’s deformed bodies with my index finger. “I had nothing. I had no one. You pulled me from that nothingness. From the darkness. And held me in your arms. Brought me up to somewhere better. Where I can hope. Where I can not only see light, but make my own. That is invaluable to me.” 

He catches my hand and brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss to my palm. “Can you help me, then? Can you bring me back my light, too?” 

My breathing stalls. I know what he’s asking from me. I know it’s more than just offering a flashlight through the tunnel. I know it’s more complicated than I can currently imagine. Alek stands up, coming around the table to kneel in front of my chair. Some students stare, wondering if they’re about to witness a proposal. I ignore them, keeping my eyes trained on Alek’s imploring gaze. I know in this moment, I will give him the world, the moon, and all of its stars. I will give him all of my sun and then some, I will summon everything I have to fill the darkest parts of him. 

He takes my face in his hands, palms impossibly soft on my cheeks. Subtly, slowly, I nod, watching his face break a part into a smile. Without pausing, Alek leans forward and kisses me. His lips are smooth and plush, completely stunning me into inaction as he runs his fingers along the sides of my throat. I sigh into his mouth, body realizing what is happening just as he is pulling away. Parting my lips, I stupidly sit in my chair as he gets up in one flowing movement.

Alek looks down at me with a smile. “I hope to see you soon then, Cataleya.” 

Just like that, he scoops up his book and walks away. Gone as quickly as he appeared. 

----

The room is completely aglow with light, chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and candles lit around the room. Everything has a soft, burnt hue, like the room is on fire from below and the blaze is lighting the space. It must be the size of the University of Ketterdam quad, with hundreds of people talking, dancing, eating, and drinking. I recognize some students and faculty, but most are a blur of unfamiliar gowns and tuxedos. 

“They know how to throw a party,” Nik says appreciatively. 

“If they didn’t, no one would take them seriously.” Zoya retorts, leaving Nik’s side without so much as a glance to drift into the crowd. The smell of honey and sweet drinks spreads through the room, long tables lining either wall stacked with a massive spread. 

“That’s where I’ll be,” whispers Nina. 

I smile at her, gathering my dress in my hands and descending the few flat stairs to the main rooms. The floor is a beautiful tile, mosaics and colors that I can’t decipher flowing from the entry way beneath the mass of bodies. There is something magical about it all, something historic, like stepping into a time machine. The walls are lined with thick tapestries, with small halls leading into different areas of grandeur. I shouldn’t be surprised that wealth like this still exists, but every time I see it, I am. 

Scanning the space, I see Alek from across the ballroom, near one of the food tables, his gaze drifting across my body before a smile forms on his lips. He is wearing an all black suit, lapels crisp and smooth, with a single blood rose pinned above his heart. It mimics the read of my dress, the stain of my lips, the seduction in his eyes. He cocks his head slightly, dark hair falling over one of his beautifully arched eyebrows. 

I hold his stare, letting the bubbling pit of fire burn deeply in my stomach. The pit that forms when he looks at me, seated low and hot. The pit that would cackle and seethe if he would touch me, if his pale hands would settle on my hips and his lips would touch the shell of my ear, whispering sweet nothings and dirty everythings into my ear. Snaking my tongue between my lips, I watch as Aleksander tracks the motion, his posture straightening ever so slightly. 

And then Kaz is there. In my line of vision. 

The fire sputters out, replaced by something else. Something that grips my lungs and forces my heart to beat faster. His suit is a deep navy, bringing out the smooth pearl of his skin and accenting the night of his hair. He looks like a shooting star, dark and light at the same time. I wonder who picked it out for him, or if he selected it himself. I can’t imagine Kaz in a tailor’s shop, trying on suits and drinking bourbon with the upper elites with him. 

But then again, maybe I can. He is a business man after all. And great at faking it. 

Kaz catches my stare, tipping his head up in greeting before disappearing into the crowd. Nina and Nik dissolve from my side as well, going to observe and mingle before the drama begins. Alina is the only one left next to me, her golden dress sparkling in the chandelier light. She turns to me and sets her hand on my arm gingerly, sun earrings dangling from her ears. 

“Be careful,” she whispers. “He’s not who you think he is.” 

I open my mouth, about to ask her what she means before her hand is gone, and so is she. I watch her move into a group of people, hugging a man in a dark gray tuxedo from behind before giving him a kiss. Must be Mal. I don’t feel right, especially after what Alina said to me. I feel like something is amiss, but I don’t know what. 

I spot Kaz again, whispering something to Inej along the back wall. Her dark eyes drift to me, cementing the feeling in place. 

Alone, I cross the space to Alek. I had seen him twice since our fateful coffee date and both times had been very formal and full of business. Full of me trying to help him get his light back. Through some sort of grand scheme, it seems. One that required me to also recruit Nik, Alina, and Zoya to help Alek while seeming like they are helping Kaz. Sort of like a double agent, except I don’t know which side I want to be standing on at the end. 

“How are you?” Alek asks, tone casual to an untrained ear, but clipped enough for me to hear the true question behind his words. 

“Something’s wrong,” I respond under my breath before I loudly declare my happiness.

He lets his gaze linger on my face for a moment, schooling his features into neutrality. 

“Can you handle it?” 

“I’m not sure,” I admit, dropping my fake smile. “I might need help.” 

Vague enough, but he clearly gets the message, rolling his shoulders before giving me a dazzling grin. Alek reaches a long arm to stop the waiter passing by, grabbing two flutes of sparkling gold champagne and extending one to me. As if this is only our second time meeting. As if we both happened here by incident and he is looking to get lucky.

“I could never refuse such a beautiful woman.” 

I return his smile, throwing back the entire drink for some liquid courage. It tastes sweet and fizzy against my tongue, a faint acidity coating the roof of my mouth. Alek takes a long and thoughtful sip of his own champagne, much more graceful than me and folds my arm into the crook of his elbow. He begins to lead me from the ballroom, towards the Crow’s meeting spot. I look behind my shoulder, searching for their familiar faces. But all I see is Nina, already watching, her eyes focused intently on the joining of my arm with Alek’s while she pretends to listen to Nik, whose lips are moving with passionate fervor. Her mouth parts ever so slightly as she catches my eye. 

“Careful,” Alek mutters, forcing me to turn my head back in front of me. 

Dread and fear coil in my gut. I have never seen Nina look that way. I have never seen her look at me and not see me. I still don’t spot any of the other Crows at their reported positions around the room, where they were supposed to stay until I could get Alek alone and before I could lead Kaz to Alek and they could duel it out and I could decide who to side with then.

 I swallow, mind racing, trying to calm myself by believing that there’s a reason for their absence. 

 Alek seems to sense my trepidation, holding my arm a bit tighter as we meander from the crowded room into a near empty hallway. 

“Something’s wrong,” I repeat, trying to unravel everything quickly. Too quickly. 

Kaz, pushing everyone into this heist with such force. The others, more quiet than usual, less pressing for Kaz to give them details. Kaz, letting me teach him to drive, letting himself be vulnerable for me. Inej, barely talking to me a week into our plan. Nina, completely open and honest and warm until she saw me with Alek. Jesper, less happy than usual, less enthusiastic, more solemn and quiet, often excusing himself when I came into the room. And Wylan, always seeming to be off rekindling his relationship with his father. 

I didn’t need to help them with appearances at all. 

When fear arrives, something is about to happen. 

“It’s a trap,” I breathe, clenching my jaw and letting my stomach pit out inside of me. 

“I know,” Alek replies, cool and distant. 

My blood turns to ice. “What do you mean, “I know”?” 

He doesn’t respond, turning right down the hallway that leads to a back patio exit, and not to the left, to that private seating area where the Crows were supposed to be waiting. Alek increases his pace ever so slightly, giving me a glazed and lusted look when people come out of the rooms to pass us by, too high or drunk or exhausted to care. 

I try to stamp down the panic in my bones. How could I be so stupid? How could I get so caught up playing both sides that I didn’t see what was right in front of me? This is not the part where things are supposed to go wrong. I am supposed to get to choose. I am supposed to see them interact, gauge my feelings, myself, my words, and decide which side I want to be on. If I want to be a Raven or a Crow. If I want to be crime or creation. Of course, Alek is one step ahead. And so is Kaz. 

“We need to be more casual, less uptight,” Alek states as he pushes through the glass doors leading into the large mansion courtyard at the end of the corridor. “If any of them are watching, they’ll hurry things along if they sense we’re onto them.” 

“I think they already know,” I swallow, the night air turning cold and bitter. We hover on the cramped patio for a moment, not descending the small set of stone stairs into the gardens beyond. I can hear voices from inside, music drifting about, people laughing and heavy breathing from behind bushes. I wish I could have gone to this party with no other intentions than for fun. 

Maybe in a different life.  

“Doesn’t hurt to try,” Alek shrugs. 

And then I am up against the thin black railing behind me, Alek’s hands settling into the curve of my hips. I can feel his warmth through the satin of my dress, bleeding fire into my skin, my heart, my core. He licks his lips and pushes me tighter against him. Our bodies are flush in all of the right places; hard and soft in all of the right places. 

“Kiss me, Cataleya,” he baits me, voice low and raspy. 

He doesn’t have to say it twice. 

I surge forward, his lips plush and velvet against mine. He smells like winter, like snow and frosty tree branches and endless starry nights. I grew up with this smell, revelled in it, fell in love with it. His dark hair brushes against my forehead, the strands so soft and gentle in a way I had never known Alek to be. He is always pushing, moving, plotting. 

He reminds me of Kaz in that way. 

Kaz. 

Alek’s tongue slips along mine, sparks flying and thundering in my ears. Haven’t I wanted him like this for so long? Haven’t I imagined what this would feel like since our first kiss, being barely a peck? Haven’t I dreamed that he would want me? That he would have me in the way I desired? 

So why is this falling so flat now? 

Kaz. 

The voice reverberates through me, like a Crow picking from a dead body, peeling flesh from bone until I am stripped bare. My head begins to pound, a dull ache in the base of my skull. Alek runs his fingers up my bare arms, drawing goosebumps in his wake until I am shivering beneath him. 

“Cataleya,” he murmurs, deep and throaty. 

The old feeling returns, the burning desire, the expectant eyes. The little girl waiting for her master to approve. The little girl waiting for someone bigger, someone better, to grab her hand and drag her from the dirt. I feel ridiculous for not being able to squash it down, to tamper it. I don’t know if that feeling would ever die. The feeling of dependence. Of unworthiness. 

Alek seems as if he’s about to say something, but his head whips to the side. I follow the movement, the stone of dread in my stomach sinking deeper when I realize the courtyard has gone quiet around us. Not a single sound from behind the bushes, not a giggle or a whisper or a moan. Too quiet. The sound of death. 

The headache threatens to split my brain a part, eyes blurring as I watch Alek attempt to stumble down the stairs. He gets one step in before a figure blocks his path. My breathing becomes laborious, squinting through black spots clouding my vision before I can see who it is. 

Wylan. 

His suit is a forest green, dark velvet tailored for his tall lanky frame. The color perfectly offsets the ruddiness of his hair and his shoes are a deep brown leather, squeaky clean and new. Leave it to Kaz to outfit all of the Crows with his endless bank account. 

“I’m sorry,” Wylan says, face truly betraying some measure of regret. 

The pieces click together, like a lock sliding into place. 

He hasn’t been working with his father all these weeks. He has been working on something else entirely. Something that would take lots of time, lots of care, and lots of studying. When Nina said those things I thought she was talking about how he was mending the relationship with his father. She was not. And not just that, but his studies most likely required more than himself for success. Probably Leoni, the incredibly kind and intelligent biochemical engineering major who Kaz sometimes recruited for special missions that required more stealth, less blood. 

Wylan was studying poison. 

And we had ingested it from the champagne. 

----

My head is throbbing when I come to, the sound of a car engine roaring in my ears. I don’t know how I got here. All I remember is Alek, his hands on me, his warmth leaving me to spin me into the arms of someone else. The shaved hair, the deep brown eyes, the palor of his skin, the stability of his grip around my waist. Then Alek again, his lips on mine, my back against the wall.

 I force myself to swallow, trying to see anything through the blindfold at my eyes. I am still in my dress, the silk smooth on my skin, and I can feel the car coming to a stop as I struggle to find the strength to say something. 

My bones feel like liquid, muscles weak and shaking. But Alek had been the only one who offered me a drink, he had been the only one I trusted enough to gulp heartily. Wylan. I remember Wylan. Standing at the ledge of the stairs in the courtyard. Me and Alek. 

Poisoned. 

The car’s back door opens and I feel a rush of the cold night air as two gloved hands drag me by my feet from the vehicle and out onto the street. Dread coils in my stomach and my skin pricks with goosebumps, the cobble stones ripping at my exposed ankles and arms. After being dragged a few hundred feet, hissing at the burn of scapes and tearing on my skin from the uneven street, I am forced onto my knees.  I don’t feel right. Nothing feels right. Where is Kaz? 

As if in answer, the blindfold is yanked down my face from behind, my eyes blurring and struggling to adjust to the dark light of my surroundings. I am in an alley, wedged between two buildings built of collapsing brick. I can hear the faint whiz of cars, but in front of me is only a few hundred paces of the alleyway and then trees. I am not being brought here to talk. It’s too secluded. Too quiet. And the smell, bark and sap and something else… I clench my jaw. 

A shadow fills my periphery and I struggle to stay up on my knees as a figure takes shape in front of me. The navy suit, clean white shirt, the black leather gloves, the hard lines of his jaw and set of his eyes. I know why I am here. I know what this is. His stare is furious, rage and ice and merciless vengeful eyes boring into mine. 

He made the choice for me.

“Kaz,” I rasp, voice cracking and broken. 

He snarls at his name from my mouth, shoving me up into the nearest building. I stumble in my heels, his movements fast and forceful enough to drive my back into the wall with no problem. The rough edges of the brick dig into my back, clawing at my skin. This is nowhere near the last experience I had against a wall, with Alek. Caressing me, kissing me, igniting me. I try to stay calm. I try to think. But all I can see is Kaz’s face in front of me, burning with hatred and disdain as he rams me harder into the unforgiving bricks. 

I try to hold in my scream as a knife plunges into my side from one of the roofs above, deep and intense pain bursting through me. I don’t know who threw it, I don’t know how many of them are up there and how many stayed behind. I don’t know how long they’ve been in on it, I don’t know if Kaz has been aware the entire time. But I do know that now he knows, they all do. And that I won’t be leaving here alive. 

I can’t move enough to take the knife from my side, the hilt small, but the blade curved and lodged deep above the bone of my hip. Blood seeps through my dress, the red becoming impossibly darker, and the drip drip of the liquid pings against the stone street as it runs down my legs. It’s the only sound between us besides my ragged breathing, pained and desperate. 

“This was all a test of loyalty,” he says evenly. “You failed.”

And I would die for it. 

Kaz’s hands close around my throat, gaze steely and intent. I try not to panic, my jaw locking and lungs constricting with the pressure of his grip. The warmth of the blood continues spreading and soaking through my side, red and sticky and filling my nostrils with the scent of copper. I can already barely breathe, trying and failing to make it through the pain. It makes sense how loose Kaz’s lips had been with me, all the questions he had asked to try and taunt me, to reveal my relationship to Alek, how he let me teach him; he thought I would be a dead woman soon. And dead women don’t spill secrets. Or give lessons beyond the grave.

“We knew it was you all along,” Kaz says in my face, tone even as he chokes me. “Funny. You didn’t even know he was here until we flushed him out for you. Until we set up that date and watched you become the person we suspected you were. Until you crawled back to him and pretended he was the only light in the pit of darkness that’s been your life.” Kaz’s gloved fingers are hot against my pulse and his hair is falling down his forehead, sides freshly shaved. I can see every prick of stubble along his chin, see the muscles feathering in his jaw. I’ve never been this close to him before. Not even in the car. A day that felt so long ago. Like a lifetime. 

“Don’t you know why we scouted you in the first place? We knew he would try to ruin us from the inside out and use you to do it, it was only a matter of time. But that game can be played by both sides.” His voice is low, a snarl that roars in my ears, my side throbbing. “Nikolai, Alina, Zoya… you thought that you were bringing in new recruits to then turn against us. We had them first. They were always Crows, not one of Aleksander Morosova’s ravens. They have even more of a reason to want revenge on him than I do. And I’ll bet they’re being even less pleasant with him than I am with you right now.” 

A pit burns inside of me, low and feral, deepening with each of his words. 

“But even before that, I wanted you.” 

And I know, at the tenor of his voice, it’s not the kind of want that I would ever seek. At how his voice drops, so no one else can possibly hear, that I will not like what he is going to say. 

“I wanted you the moment I saw you and your father’s face in the news. When I heard what he did to your mother even though no one would believe he could have done it. I knew he did.” He is seething, spitting on me as he goes on. “I knew that he was capable of ordering violence. Of committing it and buying people’s silence. I could see it in his eyes, I could see it in the way he held you against him. Possessive and consuming.”

I have gone completely still, the very blood in my veins seeming to stop, the pulsing at my side ebbing into a dull ache. His words are in a bubble, trapped between our lips. Each syllable pops and rebuilds it, over and over. Trapping me, over and over. 

“I didn’t leave the day they came to kill Jordie.” He continues, “I thought something was wrong, for him to force me out the way he did. I hid on the roof of our building and climbed down the stairs of the fire escape a few hours later. Then I saw him. Your father. Positioning my brother’s body on our couch, I saw him take the bloodied knife and place it on the floor, beneath Jordie’s fingers. I watched as he cleaned off any fingerprints, stole away any evidence. He had no blood on him and by the two men that stumbled onto the street and disappeared down an alley, I knew he hadn’t done the actual act...

“But what’s worse? Following an order for murder or sanctioning it?” 

I feel tears slipping down my cheeks, dropping like flies on Kaz’s gloves. 

“I followed him. Learned everything I could. I learned that he had been involved with an underground drug operation for decades. That my parents had been in debt with them due to some bad decisions in my dad’s twenties. And that your father had been sent to collect or kill. To send a message to the other debtors. Little did your father know that the victims had two children, that they escaped. And that they would be coming for him.” 

The air around me turns infinitely colder, everything still and quiet except Kaz’s voice. 

“I watched you too.” He continues, fingers losing their grip a bit on my throat. “I watched to see who you would be. If we would indeed become enemies, as our parents were. I observed you grow with Morosova, how he controlled you, how he led you away all those years, how he kept you quiet and kept you in the dark so you would never find out the truth and be killed, like your mother was.” 

His words stab me deeper than the knife, my heart in ribbons. Hearing him confirm my darkest fears unleashes the worst parts of me, the parts I tried so hard to keep hidden. Terrified. Insecure. Silent. Obedient. The little girl with an abusive father and dead mother. I hadn’t been her in so long, but Kaz is stripping me down. Shredding me. 

 Kaz’s voice drops lower, as if he’s telling me a horrible secret. “He knew about it, Cataleya. Aleksander,” he purrs the name like a curse, “he knew everything. His father was one of the men your father ordered to kill Jordie. Who was a part of the team dispatched to eradicate those who didn’t pay, eradicate my parents. Your parents were working together, how fitting that you and Aleksander would, as well. Fate is funny that way.” 

The world shatters around me, broken and splintering into a million pieces. Alek knew. He sat there and listened to me while I cried about my mother, how I had desperately wanted his help to look into what happened. He had warned me to want anything was to give myself up. That the only way for me to find peace was to move forward and never look back. That if I continued to want for closure, I would never find it.

 “The problem with wanting is that it makes us weak.” He had said, over and over. 

How ironically true that had become. 

Kaz isn’t done. He continues to pick at me, the Crow in him unable to stop, his dark eyes burning with hate. “Where your own father failed, Aleksander’s father succeeded. He remembered seeing pictures in my house, of me and of Jordie. He remembered that there were two boys. And when I killed him by placing a bomb under his car to be rigged as an oil problem, his son stepped into the role to finish what his father started. To silence me too. But he didn’t and for me, for Jordie, I swore I would destroy them, brick by brick.” 

My breathing is coming out in short rasps, eyes blurred with tears of anger and embarrassment and white hot pain. I have been played. So horribly. By everyone in my life. Lied to. By every single person I had known. Even Alek. Alek, who had been the one person I thought would save me. Would be the one in the end to stand by me, to see me, to understand me. But he didn’t. He never did. He used me. Just like my father did. To be a sweet, obedient girl. 

In the few months I had known Kaz, he has seen more of me than Alek ever did. 

All we ever wanted, me and Alek and Kaz, was to feel safe and be loved. But we never trusted anyone enough to be either. So we fought and resisted and pushed. Into darkness. 

A whistle sounds from above, quick and melodic. Inej. Signaling Kaz that he needs to hurry. That enough is enough. But I can see it in his eyes. The hardness. The black pits of revenge and hatred and loathing he feels when he looks at me. It would never be enough. This retribution that he savored for years will never last as long as he wishes it to. I want to wither away into nothing under his stare. Not enough. Not his. Never his. Never a Crow.

“I know you love him,” he whispers so none of the others lurking can hear. “I know he’s the one who saved you. But he used you, Cataleya. He controlled you. You could’ve been so much better, so much bigger. It’s a shame the apple never falls far from the tree.”

I wish it had been you to save me instead. I think, shoving the words down my constricted throat. Maybe if it were Kaz, all those years ago, then things wouldn’t have gotten so messed up. Then maybe I would have been more like Inej, graceful, strong, full of more purpose than what Alek gave me. Maybe I could have meant something. To someone. To the Crows. 

But Kaz didn’t find me. Alek did. Alek led me from the garden and held my hand. Alek stroked my hair and told me it would be okay. That I would be okay. Alek raised me to be unforgiving, to scheme and stab people in the back to fill the empty hole in my life. Control. Kaz had said. How he controlled me. How he deceived me. With love. Love. Fake. Love. Fake love. I want to cry or scream at all of them, shaking with rage. I have been a pawn this whole time. 

“We are all controlled by something.” I push out, my voice weak. 

I try to swallow and fail at the reapplied pressure of Kaz’s palms, drool and spit bubbling from my lips. The alley wall is hard against my back, the night sky black and endless above me. The smog cover is so thick I can’t see the stars, despite the bright spots beginning to dance in my vision. I feel something prick at my spine with the pressure of my position like a silent reminder, mind sharpening and resolve strengthening. Love or no love. I have to finish what I started. I have to complete my assignment. Even if it isn’t one from Kaz. 

Even if it is from a liar. 

Lies are all I have known. 

All I have to hold on to. 

I can’t be saved. From darkness. My own or from others. I have waded too deep, gone too far. I may not be a true Raven, but I am definitely not a Crow. No matter how much I wish I could be. No matter how much I came to appreciate them, to care for them, to trust them. 

Trust is the most dangerous weapon of all. 

Slipping my hands behind my back as if I am trying to scramble against the wall, I reach for the cool metal of the blade attached along the zipper of my dress, letting out a choking cry to cover the unsheathing of my knife. The movement burns my side, ripping open my wound further to pour more blood. It runs over Kaz’s dress shoes, stains my legs. I am losing it too quickly, too much of it ebbing from me at once. Kaz’s hands press harder to my throat, forcing me, willing me, begging me to die now that his speech is over. I know he doesn’t enjoy this. I know he doesn’t relish in murder. Neither do I. 

But love is love.

Control is control. 

And business is business. 

Kaz would agree on that. 

“If I’m going down, Kaz,” I begin, voice barely a whisper. “You’re coming with me.” 

Without wasting another second, I shove the tip of my knife deep between Kaz’s ribs, watching his face contort in pain and dark eyebrows shoot up in surprise, then furrow in agony. Almost immediately, I hear a scream tear from somewhere on the roofs above and feel a pang of sorrow course through me. Inej just watched me stab the love of her life. Inej, the strong, graceful warrior who had been through more than all of us. She had screamed. Wailed.

I hear her words echo around my brain. The autumn leaves. Her cream sweater. The weight of her stare. “Some people just can’t be saved. But we love them anyway.”  

My sight falters.

 Kaz’s grip on my neck loosens, then completely disappears as he stumbles back and I fall towards the concrete without him holding me in place. An arrow pierces my shoulder from above, Jesper no doubt. With that incredible skill for landing true. The impact pushes me forward into Kaz’s already falling body, his white tux shirt now stained with blood. 

The world spins, my head making hard contact with the street. 

“This action will have no echo.” The rough words leak from Kaz’s lips, voice faint and faraway. If I could cry now I would, remembering the meaning of those words that Inej had told me just days ago. We would repeat nothing now. No more harm. To ourselves or others. This is our repentance. Our forgiveness.

Kaz is close to me, for I can feel the warmth of his body and the slick of his blood as it mixes with mine and stains the concrete.

If someone told me nine years ago, when I buried that cat and found my mother buried instead, that this is where I would end up, I wonder how differently my life would have been. I wonder if I would have chosen a different path. One full of forgiveness and happiness. The one of creation instead of crime. Instead of revenge and retribution. The weight of those decisions hang over me like a cloak, protecting and exposing me at the same time. Using the last bits of my strength, I turn my head to the side to look at him. 

Kaz is on his back beside me, so close that I can reach out and touch him. Touch his hand that is limp with resignation, his side that is red with blood, his lips that are white with death. He is the most beautiful man I have ever seen. Even as a small line of blood trickles from the corner of his lips and pings onto the stones. I let my eyes close, pretending the stars behind my eyelids belong to the sky and not to the Grim Reaper. Pretending the stars are his eyes.

We’ve all had hard lives. We’ve all taken on assignments that were too big for us. We’ve all done things we regretted and we all leaned on each other too much for our own good while leaning on no one at all. We all let the ghosts of our pasts haunt us into our future. Especially Kaz. And that’s the problem with trusting ghosts, in the end you become one. 

You become transparent, empty, without an echo. 

“No mourners.” I manage to mumble into the night. 

“No funerals.” A disembodied voice murmurs back, but I’m not sure who it belongs to. 

And then there is nothing but darkness. 

---

~Admin Eggplant

[faerielleart]

hello my easter bunny! tysm once again for the wonderful art and all the effort that you've put into it! and i hope you indulge me in asking you this question, but how would you explain your drawing style? do you have any artistic influences or so? i just noticed that you tend to make use of pop culture references or literary quotes, but i'm not sure if that's something you deliberately intend to do in all of your works. much love <3

hello dearest! :D

thank you for the nice words aaa ;w; i am genuinely so happy you enjoyed your present ✨

these are very interesting questions 🧐 i’ll answer in order:

how would you explain your drawing style?

this is probably the hardest question for me to answer because i tend to switch it up a lot shdjskdkd it kinda depends of what i’m trying to convey, if i want to make something cartoonish or something more realistic, but i’d like to say it’s generally semi-realistic with a heeeavy emphasis on the “semi” hhhh i guess i am also kinda inspired by old school anime that i used to watch as a kid like sailor moon, the rose of versailles and others. i tend to do my best to get realistic proportions for the characters i draw and don’t really do heavily stylized work with exaggerated features, i try to imitate real people but i’m also incredibly stubborn and like to suffer so i always avoid using references unless i really need one (ex: muscles, hands, feet, dynamic poses) because i want to build a better visual memory for how a human is supposed to look like. when i first started posting my art i tended to do black and white only, then i got progressively more comfortable with colors. i’d say my signature thing would be the lighting :D and the lil dots of atmospheric dust, but yeah i have a tendency to do a lot of backlighting or random streaks of light, i think it looks pretty 🥺 also i like drawing hurt/comfort which is why i do a lot of black and white art, i think it looks nicer bc it reminds me of old photographs and it’s just a ~vibe~ i enjoy hehe but when i use color it’s super vibrant and saturated kinda like a punch in the eyeball. so yeah my artstyle in really brief words: inconsistent but shiny as hell with an extra colorful punch in the face when i feel like b&w doesn’t do the job :’D

do you have any artistic influences or so?

quite a lot! when it comes to backgrounds, i take inspiration from studio ghibli and makoto shinkai movies for scenery, kyoani for indoor settings. i freaking love yusuke murata and takehiko inoue’s artstyles and i love hirohiko araki’s use of color. as far as the technicalities go, my art never looks “smooth” bc i can’t figure out how to draw with airbrush tools to save my life, and i am very very veeery influenced by impressionism, which is why i paint in broad strokes that look messy and you can also kinda see all the lines hhh and i guess the focus on the lighting comes from my obsession with caravaggio when i was in school :’) oh also i absolutely have to mention the two italian comic artists whom i’ve been following since i was a first year middle schooler just getting started with digital art, mirka andolfo and angela vianello; they’re probably my biggest influences and lil fangirl moment i met mirka at a comicon a few years ago and she drew me hiyori from noragami as she was in charge of drawing the alternate cover for the first volume release and she was so nice and kind and encouraged me to keep making art and excuse me i’m gonna cry- angela vianello is also an absolute legend and her work is absolutely breathtaking, she’s probably *the one* who helped me shape my artstyle the most through the years. haven’t met her yet unfortunately ;;;;

about the pop culture references and literary quotes

BINGO i am a literature student and an anthropology student which comes with an extra art history, theatre history and philology+mythology on the side which means that basically 99% of everything i’ve ever posted stems from either a song i was listening to or a book i was reading or anything i was studying for my lectures bc i’m a huge nerd and i love making art of things i love inspired by other things i love (cue me recalling the obscene amount of AUs and wips i have in my gallery). my fav levihan stuff i’ve ever drawn were inspired by jane austen, victor hugo and anne carson quotes :D also a ton of musical theatre songs! i am a giant les misérables stan (book and show) and i have quite a few things inspired by it. yeah i basically have no originality and my brain needs to go “OH THIS QUOTE IS RAW AS FUCK” and “OHHH PRETTY SONG LYRIC” for me to start producing things hhhh

thank you for the questions 🐰💜💜💜

[florenc-ia]

These are my last reads, took me some time but oh well. Enjoy

Give Me Truths 110k

Louis is a psychology student with a tattoo count as high as his genius IQ. Harry is in a (sort-of) relationship with a homophobic man and hates himself a little more every day. Things fall apart and Louis puts him back together.

Or, the one in which Louis falls in love with a fragile boy and tells him every beautiful truth in the world, as long as it makes him happy.

chances under the purple sunrise 28k

“You’ve been taking my shoes?” Louis asked, scoffing. “I paid a lot for them!”

“How unfortunate for you.” Harry smiled bitterly. He peeked over Louis, eyeing the hook that still had the worm.

The red box was open right next to him. Harry saw that inside, it had a couple of transparent containers that were filled with worms, too. He eyed Louis skeptically before nodding. “Right. I’ll give you your, er…. little boats back if you let me have the tub of worms.”

A groan crawled out from Louis, his head falling back and his eyes landing up at the clear sky. “I need those.”

“They’re food for myself and others, not to be used as bait.”

*

Or the one where Harry is a merman, prince of the Atlantic Ocean, whose curiosity and healthy envy takes over him and he steals Louis' shoes every time he fishes.

Absolutely amazing it’s so beautiful and cute I loooooved it

Oh Glory 21k

Tomlinson looks Liam over, tilting his head. “Are you a swimmer as well?”

“Yeah,” Liam says, a little cautiously. Harry wonders if it’s Tomlinson’s fame or the unimpressed eyebrow that’s making Liam wary. “Distance, I’m doing the 1500m. Harry here’s a sprinter.”

“Ah,” says Tomlinson, turning his glinting eyes back to Harry. “So you’re not an endurance man.” A beat passes, and his grin grows, wide and filthy. "Shame."

Harry Styles is Team Great Britain's newest swimmer, and has spent his whole life training for this moment, a chance at the gold medal in the Rio 2016 Olympics. All his training, hard work, and dedication to no distractions is tested when he's assigned to the same Rio apartment as Louis Tomlinson, British gymnast and Harry's childhood crush.

Torn On The Platform 27k

AU where harry and louis are strangers but they always get the same train to work in the morning and one day harry falls asleep on louis’ shoulder. louis wants to be annoyed because harry just broke a least seven rules of tube conduct but he looks so soft and peaceful that he just lets him sleep and wakes him ever so carefully when it’s his stop. it happens again and again until it becomes a regular thing where louis will let harry snooze and then gently nudge him awake, hand him the cup of coffee he took from him so it wouldn’t slip and spill everywhere and send him off with a “have fun at work, love” and after the tenth time harry isn’t even embarrassed anymore.

In a sky full of stars, be my Northern lights 13k

It's one of those nights there's nothing on the telly that Louis absently scrolls through Tinder. After swiping left on a bunch of profiles he comes face to face with a picture that stops him in his tracks. The picture is..almost sweet. It’s a boy with brown curly hair, wearing a very low cut yellow blouse, paired with a black jacket. He’s got a smile on his face and his tongue sticking out, but it’s not in any way lewd or suggestive. He just looks like he’s having a good time, and something about the innocence of it has him swiping right rather than left.

He’s barely checked the other pictures on the boy's profile before Tinder confirms that he’s got a match. The shots are so different from the pictures Louis is used to on Tinder - half naked boys who are smoldering at the camera - that he can’t help but smile.

It quickly turns into a frown when he opens up the message he’s just received.

Harry: Hello!

Harry: Thank you for swiping right

Harry: I have a proposition for you

baby we could be enough (I’ll make this feel like home) 52k

“Did you clean the table?” Harry asks Louis once Rose is done speaking, now occupied with trying to see if she can reach over and touch Harry’s hair from where she’s sat. At Louis’ nod, Harry frowns. “You didn’t have to do that. You’re my guests here, I could’ve dealt with it later.”

Louis just smiles easily, though, adjusting Rose on his lap so that she’s facing Harry better. She manages to tug on a loose wave of hair, and she makes a noise of triumph that both Louis and Harry smile at.

“I don’t mind,” Louis murmurs to Harry, even though he’s looking at Rose. “This one here seemed very excited to talk to you.”

And, okay. Harry can’t help but think of how domestic this feels, all of a sudden.

[harry is a photographer who's trying to find his place. louis is a single father with a smile that feels like home.]

That’s How I Know 19k

Louis Tomlinson has just landed his dream job, coaching soccer at Augustus University. When he moves into a new house near campus, he meets his very fit new neighbor, English professor Harry Styles. Although their first meeting leads to an instant mutual dislike, the more Harry gets to know Louis, the more he likes what he sees.

Or the one where Harry’s African grey parrot spills his dirty secrets to his very hot neighbor.

Never Too Late 18k

Harry’s confused for a moment before it hits him: the little boy is signing. Harry squats down to get to the boy’s level again and mirrors the same action.

“Dad?” He inquires. Harry learned basic sign language after having met a fan who was deaf. He made it his mission to learn signing so that he’d be able to communicate with other fellow hearing impaired fans.

The little boy smiles brightly, his tears now long gone. He goes on to extend both hands, palms up as if he’s asking where? Followed by the previous sign which means Dad. Harry smiles to himself at the amazing little guy standing in front of him.

He stands up taking the boy’s hand, “Let’s go find your dad,” he tells him making the motion with his hand.

Just having come out of the closet and recovering from vocal surgery, famous recording artist Harry Styles needs to get away from LA to work on new music needing to prove to his label that his career isn't over. Little does he know that his life is about to change forever when he runs into an old friend at the city he's decided to escape to.

Truth Be Told (I Never Was Yours) 76k

Harry watches Louis as he scrunches up his nose and bites the end of a pen in concentration. He’s been working on seating arrangements for the past hour and getting more frustrated by the minute. Louis huffs out a breath and glances down at Harry with a soft smile on his lips before he returns to the task at hand. It’s easy, right then, for Harry to let himself believe that they’re planning a seating chart for their own wedding and bickering over who is going to sit where from a list of their own family members. He can let himself daydream about a white picket fence and a dog that they could have within the next year.

It’s like a cold slap in the face when Harry looks to the top of the page to see “Aiden and Louis Grimshaw” at the head table, and Harry has to mentally remind himself for the thousandth time that Louis is not his. Never was, really. He’s just the wedding planner that’s been in love with Louis since he was sixteen.

(or the one where Louis and Harry have a complicated past, Louis is getting married to someone that’s not Harry, and the universe has decided to have a laugh and make Harry the wedding planner.)

Even Angels Have Their Demons 53k

Louis is appointed the role of Guardian Angel, and his first mission is a boy named Zayn Malik. Unfortunately, it seems that a certain Demon has gotten to him first.

Or... an Angel/Demon AU where Angel Louis hates Demon Harry, but somewhere along the way that stops being so true.

Three French Hems 20k

In which Louis is a designer at Burberry and Harry spends December wearing Lanvin… and Lanvin… and Lanvin.

In Dreams 23k

AU. When Harry moves to a new city, his new flat come with a number of sweet, anonymous gifts and surprises that brighten his days. Could it be a friendly ghost? Another friendly presence in his new building is his tattooed neighbor, Louis, who seems determined to put a smile back on his face.

Say It Somehow 129k

Louis Tomlinson may be one of the most respected actors on the West End, but he's terrible at knowing how to act around Harry Styles.

The story of two people who find each other at just the right time, featuring first dates, sleepovers, heartbreak, lots of sex, baked goods, overpriced bedsheets, and musical theatre references galore.

A Darker Shade of Love 750k

Louis is a 30 year old multi-billionaire with a very dark past. He is violent and is a sadist with a taste for pain.

Harry Styles is a 19 year old student who sets out to London after being kicked out by his homophobic father to follow his dreams. He wants to go to the best University to study but he needs a lot of money so he starts to work as a part time stripper at a gay club to support his studies and his life.

The club he works at, Garland's, is part owned by Louis Tomlinson. When they meet, its life changing for the both of them.

Ok so this one has very sensitive content. It’s very well written but if you can understand this is all fiction then you’re good. Be careful reading it if you think you might get triggered

A Sea Without Water, A Compass Without Direction 84k

”Tell me, Louis,” Captain Styles said, leaning forward a little. ”D’you think I’m an idiot?”

”I—what?” Louis asked, surprised by the blunt question. He had expected something different, something along the lines of how he learned music, or how he ended up as a prisoner on the other ship.

”Do you think I’m an idiot?” The captain repeated, putting emphasis on each word as though Louis couldn’t understand him otherwise.

”Of course not,” Louis said, shaking his head. He’d be a fool for thinking such a thing, and an even bigger fool for saying it out loud. ”Captain.”

Captain Styles nodded slowly, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands in his lap. ”Then why did you lie to me?”

”L-Lie?”

”Out on the deck. You lied to me,” he said. He held up his hand, three fingers up.

”Three lies total. I hate liars.”

Waiting for the tides to meet 59k

Louis lets out a deep breath, thinking about Harry’s soulmate. Thinking about how Harry’s soulmate is probably as beautiful as Harry, some person that Louis cannot compare to, and how the universe has chosen them to be Harry’s. Fuck the universe. “Fuck you,” he calls out to the universe. He’s aware of how crazy he sounds.

Maybe he is crazy, with how he’s falling for Harry. And fuck that, too.

Soulmate AU. Everyone is born with heterochromia — one eye is their own eye colour, while the other is the colour of their soulmate's. It's only when they meet their soulmate for the first time that their own eyes match properly. After a hazy night at a frat party, Louis wakes up to blue eyes and the shocking realization that he had met his soulmate, without any sober recollection. Seven years pass where Louis comes to terms with the fact that he'll never know who his soulmate is. Then one fated summer, a beautiful green-eyed photographer arrives at Louis' workplace, with promises of endless laughter and a familiar feeling in Louis' heart.

Featuring a lovely cup of OT5, a road trip down the coast, and a scene where Harry eats a whole head of lettuce. Don't ask why.

[ikaris-whore]

Red

Pairing: clumsy!seb x reader

Prompt: Getting out of the car at a premiere and he missteps catching himself at the expense of his pants and now he has to walk the red carpet like that.

A/N: just a cute little drabble I guess that came from my thoughts on an ask. It took me about a week to finally finish it but here it is 😂 also sorry for no ‘read more’ but I’m posting on mobile and it’s just under 1k words.

———————

He was nervous, his first starring role. Tonight was all about him as much, as he didn’t want it to be. Stepping out of the room -- where the make up artists finished off your make up -- ready to go you cleared your throat as he stood there staring at his hands squeezing and massaging them together. It was a nervous tick he did and you found it endearing that he still got nervous about these things. He looked up at the noise and his eyes lit up, mouth dropped open. There it was.

Stepping towards you with his arms open, his voice still displaying how nervous he was “You look gorgeous, a dream. Are you sure you’re my date?” He teased and gave you a soft kiss on your cheek not wanting to mess up your makeup.

“Oh hush!” a light slap of his muscled arms had him smiling as you pulled your hand away with a shake of it.

“ALRIGHT! Let’s get this show on the road!” Sebastian’s manager, Emily, came through pushing you both towards the door. She handed him a list of talking points and questions to avoid to study on the way to the premiere from your hotel. You smiled softly as he looked at you for help. You’d been around long enough to know there was no helping him when it came to his manager.

Riding the elevator down as she continued talking to him, you were both rushed into a car waiting to drive you across town to the theatre. Sebastian’s knee was bouncing as he read the list over and over out loud to commit it to memory. Trying to calm him you placed your hand on his knee, he stopped reading out loud and glanced at you. A soft “Thank you.” escaping his mouth as his own hand rested on top of yours and curled his fingers under your palm to give it a squeeze.

“You’ll do great babe. You always do.” Just as you said that the car pulled up in the line. He tucked the paper into his pants pocket and you adjusted his tie and collar. “And after this is all over it's just you and I for a while.” you reminded him of your plans to stay away from the spotlight a while and recharge.

His smile grew and the door opened for him to get out. One foot then the other out the door, except his second foot caught on the lip of the door and he lunged to catch himself before he fell completely forward on his face. With that his tight suit pants cried out with a *RIIP* He looked down quickly-- seeing nothing wrong with the front of his pants. That’s good, he thought. Then he heard your giggling from still inside the car and his hand flew to his backside where his fingers found the rip proudly displaying his boxers underneath, thankfully the same color of his pants but still noticeable.

Backing up towards the car again he offered you his hand to get out, the body of your dress making it slightly difficult to slide across the seat but you managed to look graceful as you put one foot to the ground and then the other before standing up out of the car. He leaned in and asked “What do I do now? I can’t walk the carpet and do interviews like this... ” the nervousness in his voice was back and you could tell he was getting ready to spiral.

“Just stay slightly in front of me. I think my skirt can hide it when you can't be backed up against a wall until we can get it fixed.” you whispered, pulling out your phone from your dress’s pocket to text Emily about the situation before you put it back in your pocket and the two of you stepped down the photo line.

The two of you managed to make it through the photo line, Sebastian keeping his back to the wall and when he couldn't you held your skirt out slightly to cover him. You could tell he was nervous about walking around like this so you wrapped your arm around him as you stood waiting for interviews and you assured him it would get it fixed as soon as possible.

Just then Emily came rushing through the crowd and grabbed the two of you and whisked you away to a bathroom before interviews. She handed you the needles and thread matching the color of his suit’s fabric. “Here. You can sew right?” You nodded. “Great, stitch him up and send him out for interviews as quickly as possible.”

“Alright Emily!” you hollared after her as she left the bathroom in a rush. “Okay Seb, pants off. Quickly!

“Well this is not how I thought you were going to get my pants off me tonight.” he joked, finally feeling less nervous as he undid his pants and slid them off.

“Har. Har.” He handed over his pants and you turned them inside out, inspecting the rip. It was thankfully along the seam, which would make it an easy and quick fix. Pulling out a needle you pushed the thread through the eye and tied the knot as Sebastian watched over you bouncing on his heels.

“You’re lucky I used to want to be in fashion.” You warned him and swiftly stitched up the pants and turned them right side out, quickly checking to be sure they looked as if they came straight from the designer. “Good as new.” Handing them back over to him you smirked “Although the view while working wasn't that bad, if I do say so.” adding a wink for good measure.

He slid the pants on and tucked his shirt back in adjusting to perfection. Spinning around he looked over his shoulder. “Good?” he questioned. “Good.” you confirmed and he spun around.

You adjusted his tie like you had earlier and gave him a pat on the butt. “Go get ‘em tiger!” you giggled out and he opened the door for you and before you knew it the two of you were back on the carpet doing interview after interview, then walked hand in hand into the theatre for the premiere.

He sat down next to you in the theatre and you both breathed a sigh of relief. Leaning over he kissed your cheek and whispered in your ear before the movie started “Thanks for saving my ass.”