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echo-three-one · 4 years ago

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Whatever It Takes

Sequel to A Forgotten Memory

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

With more and more information revealed via Augustus' burner phone, The team now has to make an important decision, one that would change the course of their lives, forever.

Chapter 15 to another story made by Ray (echo-three-one) Comments and Reviews appreciated! I hope you enjoy! Love you all ❤️

Previous Chapter : Meet Me Halfway

Unexpected Alliances

Gary "Roach" Sanderson

Task Force 141

Flying above Russian Airspace

Roach was speechless. Admittedly the dark and messy battle at the Gulag was something worth noting but the thing that kept his head preoccupied at the moment was Soap and France kissing in the middle of warfare.

Guess love knows no boundaries huh. He thought to himself as he looked at France kneeling beside Soap who passed out from exhaustion. Another person laying beside him was an old man named Jack. The 141 records had a match to Jack, he's apparently Alex's mentor who got missing when their safehouse got raided.

Guess the force will be having two reunions tonight. His eyes turned to Price, who sat by the huge window and gazed into the sea of clouds, he's always serious and in thought that Gary found him intimidating, even after that short mission in Germany.

Then there was Ghost. He's surely heartbroken now that she saw what France did. And Gary was slightly to blame, well not necessarily his fault but if he pushed him enough to confess, maybe this won't hurt more than it did to him today.

Gary spent the rest of the trip observing, noting his comrade's actions, discussing with their thoughts, especially after the invasion. He was glad 141 extracted Soap before the deliberation, where none of them are allowed to perform missions. Gary felt scared, he just got here, got the hang of it, and was afraid to cut ties with the 141 on such short notice. But he hoped Shepherd would talk sense to the board, especially now that the burner phone filled with leads was within their possession.

"You're awfully quiet…" Ghost nudged to Gary while fidgeting with his gun.

"Well, I got nothing to talk about." Gary replied, turning to the masked man.

"Well I've got a lot, and it's pretty nasty. Can't say it here though." He replied, his tone was almost relieved, as if he just blurted out something that was bothering him for a long time.

"Is it about them?" Gary whispered, pointing his thumb to the couple back at the med bay.

"That's a different story, and I told you I was right, they already had a thing going on since day 1. Who am I to interfere…" Gary could feel him frown beneath the mask, he got defeated in the war of love.

"That's okay… You'll find someone better." Gary consoled and Ghost automatically shrugged it off.

"Eh. I hope…" he said, turning to the window opposite to Gary's position.

Task Force 141 Base - Infirmary

"The audio from this room's camera is muted so it's best to discuss it here." Ghost sat on the chair as concerned 141 members circled around him, Jack, Alex and Soap occupied the beds as they recovered from injuries.

"What you got for us, lad?" Price crossed his arms as he leaned by the door, his hat tilted perfectly on his head.

"An anonymous number sent Augustus coordinates of the base prior to the attack." He held up the phone and everyone murmured.

"Looks like we have another mole in our hands." Alex grunted, turning to Jack for nostalgia.

"But this time, we have a solid lead to who it is…" Ghost added while everyone braced themselves for the slap of reality they're going to get.

From out of nowhere the infirmary doors opened, Maxine was panting and sobbing at the same time, her hands held her thigh desperately enduring some sort of pain.

"It's Samantha… haaah… Shepherd took her!..." she panted as Gary quickly assisted him while everyone who was capable of fighting dashed to the scene.

"Go, Gary. I'll take care of her." Soap quickly got up with Jack, they were already fine and just required to complete their nutrition so assisting her would be the best option.

Gary nodded and dashed outside, bracing himself for the unbearable news.

"Shit. What's going on! I thought we already agreed not to take Samantha elsewhere!" Gary caught up with Ghost and the rest of the available team.

"I have my wild guess, but you're not going to like it." He replied, adjusting his shades as they exited the building. From there, they saw the General's aircraft already far away from their reach. Behind them Alex, Soap, Jack and Maxine followed, their faces were drawn with extreme sadness.

A few seconds of staring at the sky and Price's comms received an incoming message.

"Captain, I regret to inform you that the 141 is no more… I'm sending the High Value Individual to their care as the threat escalated and is being designated to a different force. I'm sorry. Please tell the rest of the group that in two weeks they will be returned to their prior assignments before 141 was established." his voice was nonchalant, emotionless and straightforward, like he's reading it from a diner table's tissue paper.

"No…" Price muttered. They were this close to Nero. The rest of the team looked down, others started to disperse and did as ordered while the more concerned group stayed.

"Shepherd's working with Nero. He wants the EMP based weaponry to help his marines in Afghanistan." Ghost blurted, raising the heads of everyone around him.

"He's trading the economical side of the world to win a war?" Gary asked, as the information doesn't add up.

"It's a wild guess but the global economic pressure is already influencing the government to allocate more funds to anti terrorism. Cutting off 141 shouldn't be in play but he found a way to do so… He wants us to stop fighting back."

"Then fighting back is what we're going to do." Price muttered, grabbing his phone.

"I'm going to make a few phone calls. Those who want to stay and save the world could stay. Those who are content to return to their past lives, you could leave."

"What about me?" Maxine asked, raising her hand.

"Come with us, We'll take care of you while it's not safe out." Gary said, almost pleading her to say yes.

"I don't have anyone else but France and Samantha. I don't know where to go from here…"

"Then that settles it. Nikolai will take us somewhere safe. If the 141 is no more, we could still salvage weapons and ammo for ourselves. But after this, there's no turning back." Price added, his voice sparked inspiration to everyone.

And that was it, from that moment. They've gone rogue, for a good cause. And they have to defeat Nero, Whatever it takes.

The Next Step

John Price

Task Force 141 - Disbanded

Former Task Force 141 Base - Helipad

A small group of his comrades were willing enough to stop the war, even at the cost of losing a lot of privileges. Price was always one to work under strict jurisdiction, and this rogue act he's going to commit will be backed up soon, it's going to be dependent on how Laswell influences the board.

The idea was easy. Create another task force which had to be approved prior to the 141's disbandment so that the papers for their redeployment would never be processed. Of course a few strings needed to be pulled and an organization must be able to absorb them. Interpol was willing to help along with Jack's influence to the CIA and Price was lucky enough to have them two on their side.

And there they were, with Nikolai's majestic aircraft, they set course to a temporary camp thanks to Jack. Price noted that he'd get along with the CIA, given they're age similarities and stance toward warfare.

He surveyed his trusty crew and took note of their abilities. There's Alex, former CIA and fought alongside him in Verdansk and Urzikstan. He's got a clear objective and will and it doesn't matter to Price whether its love or world peace. He's good at terrible hostile locations and can single-handedly turn the tide of war by local agreements and persuasion. A good weapon.

Then there's Simon Riley, or Ghost. Excellent Sniper, the team's tech guy. He's a keeper, his ability to reject emotions while in combat makes him focused and a keen observer. He also excels in weapon usage. You give him anything with a trigger and he'll be sure to hit enemies no matter what.

Another one is John MacTavish, or Soap, what kind of a name is Soap? Price thought. Price looked at the muppet proudly. He rose among his comrades during recruitment and stood at the top of his batch, showing exemplary combat skills and demolitions expertise. Excellent at handling air support machinery and his keen eye never misses a tango hiding from the field. He's got it tough recently, Price believed luck wasn't on his side that's why he got injured a lot.

There's Gary Sanderson or Roach. Price calls him the team's therapist. He sees the willingness to help from the guy. He's eager to train hard and be better and he was impressed on how he handled the German Infilnitration they did together. He has initiative and a clear goal. Something useful at these times.

There's Francine Winters, France a.k.a. Shepherd's prodigy, the last minute addition. He's still quite skeptic as to why she's placed here, but so far he knew that with her sister mentally disturbed by the enemies she's bound to use her emotions as ammunition. She's great at stealth and close combat especially great for breaking and entering missions. She could be trained of open area battles and she has the drive to do so, making her another good addition to the team.

As for the remaining ones, Jack and Maxine, he has no idea yet but them tagging along and using their resources to the fight would greatly increase their chances of killing Nero and destroying the era of EMP machinery.

"Looks like you got yourself a pretty nice team, pal." Jack patted the Former captain's shoulder.

"Yeah. Small enough to remain secret and powerful enough to defeat Nero." he muttered. Jack held his phone and showed it to Price.

"I got us a place. An old CIA Safehouse."

"Are you sure this is going to be okay?"

"Positive. This one's not used for decades. Classified as dormant and unmaintained. It's situated near a city that once housed a lot of terror activity but after it got neutralized it became very peaceful." Jack convinced. Price no longer hesitated, the team needed the help they can get.

"As long as we're under the radar." He replied and gave Nikolai the coordinates. From there they would begin their revenge toward Nero's attack, plan Samantha's rescue, and discover what Shepherd is really up to...

One step at a time.

Doing everything they can.

To set things right.

Whatever it Takes.

END OF PART 1

Wild ride first half. I hope you stay for the second part right around the corner!

Notification Squad my beloved 💝

@smokeywhalee @samatedeansbroccoli @enderio @ricinbach @beemybee @whimsywispsblog

#horRAYfic #whateverittakes #john price #simon ghost riley #gary roach sanderson #john soap MacTavish #alex echo 3 1 #cod #codmw

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boy-above · 3 years ago

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I get your thing about your passion for art dying out because of insufficient feedback, if I had a nickel for every time I’ve lost my love for painting I’d have four nickels, which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened four times. Seriously though, I feel like in my experience it has been an idea that I’ve gotten only from publicising my art. At some point when you put yourself out there, you begin to expect something in return for your hard work and vulnerability, but a lot of the time you get nothing, which makes you believe your artwork is not worth anything. This is obviously not true because any creation is worthy of praise and support because it was MADE, but the thoughts are still swimming around. When you set those social expectations on yourself to succeed, you lose the point of why you ever started in the first place. You are literally 23 years old. Very few artists ever get recognition in their early twenties, and if they do it’s because of luck. Even if this art thing doesn’t work out for you, you’ll be okay. You have so much time to learn and grow and understand new things, and there are so many different ways to make yourself better as you go along. I think you need to keep drawing, even if you don’t want to. You need to find why it was you loved it in the first place and go back to doing THAT, even if it means making art that you can’t post or show to others - it needs to be for you. And if you can’t get back into it, take a step back and try again. Or try something new. Or eat something and try again. It’s clear through your art that you love doing it, and I’m sorry that love has seemed to dwindle, but I promise you’ll be okay, and you aren’t going to disappoint anyone if you decide to quit. You aren’t worthless without your art.

i mean that's the thing though, i don't really know if i even like art. i haven't enjoyed doing it since i was like, 14. it's not something that happened recently, i've been disillusioned with it for a long time. i Have been doing art even when i don't want to, for a Very long time actually. almost a decade. i know my art isn't worthless, that's not really the problem. my problem is how the landscape surrounding creators has changed over the years. i was around on tumblr back when the like to reblog ratio was actually even and people reblogged art, commented on it, and yknow, appreciated it?? art takes hours, days, weeks to create and only seconds to consume. and because social media makes it so easy to consume constantly, i feel like people just don't think about the work that's put into it anymore, a lot of non-creators kind of just take fanart of their favorite characters for granted, and artists are always looked down upon for pointing it out but people don't feel the need to support us anymore and its ruining a lot of us. reblogging our commission posts takes seconds but a lot of people just don't do it.

i feel like you're kind of misunderstanding my situation a little, because i've Had support on my art before, i used to be a popular fanartist and my art could get as much as 5000 notes. people reblogged it, commented on it, said nice things in the tags, were even intimidated by me. the wildest thing that would happen actually semi frequently was that people would actually be excited when i followed them and would screenshot it and stuff. like i Had support on my art, i know what it feels like to have it, i just lost it because people forget about you once you're not pumping out artwork that caters to their specific interests anymore.

i'm very aware that the quality of your work doesn't impact how popular you are bc back when i was popular, my art was obviously worse than it is now, and even Farther back, when i was a wee lad, i was a popular total drama island fanartist as well (dont @ little me for being cringe) and obviously at 12 years old my art was TERRIBLE but i was popular back then too, because i got lucky. that's something i always want to tell new artists, working hard and improving your art isn't necessarily going to make people like it and support you, it's about luck, and even if you Do get lucky, you can lose it just as quickly, just like i did.

i know you're trying to be nice and supportive and for the most part i appreciate it but the "you're literally 23 years old" part did kind of hit a nerve with me lol, cause it feels like i'm being talked down to. i know that's not what you intended but i figured i'd be honest about it. i also wanna make sure you're understanding my situation on the matter of my commissions as well, i'm not like trying to do art for a living or anything, ive never intended to because that sounds like a nightmare. so i'm not like waiting to be discovered or something. it's just right now it's my only source of income because my life is a nightmare, and for the last couple years most of what i've been doing is commissions, people have still been buying from me even while i've been doing hardly any fanart or personal work anymore. i was just venting bc doing commissions actually Gave me a reason to keep drawing, and of course having money to buy goods and services™️ is a pretty big deal to me too. i'm just very frustrated because i have to beg people to do the bare minimum to try to help me and almost nobody does. ive lost all those fans who actually cared about me yknow. i'm just sad about it. it's easy to feel really small and like nobody in the world cares about me. i know a lot of people feel that way in the world but it shouldn't be a normal feeling. it's not something people deserve to feel. it's just like, even if people don't reblog my art anymore, buy it anymore, whatever. i don't care anymore. it's just hard to see people ignoring the only important post i reblog. call me entitled, i don't mind. but i'm gonna be honest. it makes me upset. it makes me feel mad sometimes even.

#ask the marshmallow #anonymous

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nowoyas · 4 years ago

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incoming post full of sobbing and tears cus I hit 1000

Holy fuck. I don't know how this happened.

When I made this blog, I went into it from the approach of some advice I've gotten a lot about Twitch streaming: expect no response for a while. It'll take a bit for people to find you, even if you're doing absolutely everything right, and that's not a reflection on you. Just keep going, and the people who are going to find you will eventually find you. In the same way, I kind of approached with a really simple goal: write what I want to read, and share it in the event that other people want to read it too.

Needless to say, I've been absolutely floored at the response I'm getting. One thousand individual human beings with lives and emotions and different tastes found what I wrote, and decided they liked it enough to follow me and read what I write going forward. One thousand people. To visualize, that's me fucking around on the internet and about this many people going "oh fuck this kinda slaps I might want more of this":

Yeah. That shit's crazy.

I can't begin to explain how much it means to me that you all are here, reading my work and having fun alongside me. Even when I was at 100, it didn't feel real. It feels somehow both more and less real now. All I can do is keep writing things, keep giving you lads content, and occasionally rhapsodize about bread so that you all may see the light. Thank you.

I had plans for a thousand follower event, but unfortunately, it happened too fast for me to prepare. I have nothing to give you but my tears, folks.

Well, those and a few more specific thank yous. First and foremost, my wonderful wife Ashi over at @birds-have-teeth. If you like Izuku, she's your writer. Her smut is phenomenal, her fluff is tooth-rotting in the best way, on the rare occasion I can make myself read angst I have cried over her angst more than once. And if it weren't for her encouragement, I never would have made this blog to start with, let alone gotten a response as fast as I did. I still remember the choked noise I made when I saw her in my notifications right after posting my first fic, and what exactly that did for my visibility as a writer. Not only that, but my two primary series that I'm working on, Floriography and Edible Arrangements, both came about because of her in one way or another, and with the help of her and some others I'll mention later, I never would have been able to write Housewarming or any smut at all. I don't really think it's an exaggeration to say that Ashi has had a hugely positive impact on my life since we became friends, and I suspect that without her, quite a few of you might not have found your way here. So thanks, Ashi. Love you, dear <3

Second, everyone else I talk with over in the Izu-cult discord server I help admin. @fujimoribaby @sapid-rose @my-bnha-things @xxangelpridexx and so many more in that server (I’m so sorry I can’t tag you all I am extraordinarily scatterbrained at present) have been just as helpful in letting me talk through ideas, vent, and honestly just getting to socialize and branch out a little. Before that discord server, it wouldn't be wrong to say I was withdrawn to an unhealthy degree. I woke up, watched videos all day, wrote myself to sleep, and if I was lucky I remembered to do things like eat and shower. I spoke to my sister-in-law (with whom I live) and her cat (also with whom I live) and that was it. And that was before COVID-19. I found in that server friends who I've talked to nearly every day since, and as a result, I feel more confident, happy, and at peace with myself. We're one big happy harem of loving spouses who came together over loving Izuku and I'm so glad to have met y'all. Those of you who enjoyed Housewarming ALSO have everyone in that server to thank for being part of the personal hypesquad watching me break through my mental block on writing smut line by line and literally cheering me on as I go. I don't think I'd ever have finished without their help, and honestly, I'd have deleted Housewarming after thirty minutes due to sheer anxiety if not for their support. I very nearly did. I'm so so glad I met everyone in the server, and I hope we can continue to talk for a while yet <3

That pretty much covers the thanks I have to give. I'm glad y'all are here. I hope I can continue to live up to your expectations. Thank you.

#distant citrus sounds #bro I'm fckin floored right now #I really didn't expect any sort of response #I really. didn't.

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boogiewrites · 5 years ago

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Choking On Sapphires 91

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Genevieve (OFC)

Title & Song: Golden Hour

Summary: Alfie and Genevieve head home together after her bat mitvah and his marriage proposal. The past isn't the only thing they put to bed that night. - Song is Golden Hour by Kacey Musgraves

Warnings/Tags: FLUFF. Sexual Content.

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.) Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT!

Genevieve stood in the room full of flowers that Alfie had given a new reason to love, for the remainder of the night. The staff broke down the rest of her bat mitzvah behind her but she paid them no mind. Now alone, she drank deeply of the scene before her to carry the portrait in her mind long after she had to leave. With everything but her lovely sanctuary now tidied, she had to say goodbye but held onto all the inspiration she needed to paint it later with the aid of the soft-focus memory and romanticizing lent.

“Perhaps I should’ve brought you your own canvas.” Alfie muses as he approaches with warm hands to her shoulders.

“I’ll never forget this. Even if I tried. No need to worry, the lense of remembrance compared to reality always makes for an interesting interpretation.” Her eyes finally tear away from the view to meet the eyes of her fiancé.

“With a mind that forms opinions like that and a mouth as lovely to speak em, how did I go so long without askin’ you to be my wife?” He gives her a well-intentioned smirk and raises her chin for a brief kiss. One with a glad proudness to it for his good fortune and decision to seal the contract of a lifetime.

“Because we’re both stubborn as mules.” She arches one brow high in an honest and only slightly sarcastic response. “Overachievers who want the best and yet are smart enough to know that perfection, an ideal, isn’t realistic, yet we chase it.”

“Keep talkin' like ya and we’ll be given ‘ese lads a show right here in the floor, love.” He whispers with the same playfulness her smirk lends him, giving her a cheeky wink that causes his favorite laughter to erupt from her painted lips.

“I’d much prefer the comfort of our bed and so would your knees.” A pleased smile graves her mouth that smiles at him softly with no judgment, only an intimate knowledge of the things he preferred to whine about come morning. “Shall we go home, Alfie darling?” A sweet suggestion laid upon him just like her hands to his chest.

“Whatever it is Mrs. Solomons wants, she gets, innit?” He plants a whiskered kiss on her confident smile, a pleased hum emanating from her throat.

“It’s been that way for some time now, Mr. Solomons. Have you not been paying attention?” She asks playfully as she pulls away and turns, looking back at him over her shoulder.

“Ya little minx. Callin’ me ‘ats gonna make an old man feel some things.” He gives a stern brow with his tone, but it covered giving eyes and amused lips she could read better than anyone else.

“You are my old man now.” She reaches back for his hand. “You may not be young, but the night is, there’s plenty left for both of us to feel lots of things.”

———————

He spoke softly in her ear, lips pressed to the soft skin by her sentimental teardrop sapphire earrings that swayed as they pulled into the long drive up to their home. In the darkness, they said very little with words, a closeness that hasn’t required them for some time swells and encapsulates them both in the passing moonbeams as they study one another like new lovers. They arrive home late, after their friends and family but they are all smart enough to leave them be after a night like this one. His hands never leave her body, gentle and strong to assist her out of the car, up the stairs and through doors as he acts like a gent and clears a path for her the way to their bedroom.

The newly proclaimed future Mrs. Solomons walked aimlessly as her betrothed started removing layers to achieve the level of comfort he preferred to have in his own quarters. She watches him, a case study of masculine self-assurance with his lean, functional muscles that were never showy and made for and from hard work. With no one to witness, she sips her champagne flute of water and swoons to herself as his face shows an Alfie Solomons only she gets to know. A lack of fine lines of intimidation and anger, a soft fullness to a relaxed mouth that felt no need to mumble and mutter for the sake of making those around him wonder if the visible signs of anger would be lashed out at them next. He was tired, bless him, she knew him well enough to know one eye would close more than the other when he was feeling sleepy. A tell that she believed only she knew of him. Just as she knew he had the tendency to stare over his glasses at her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention, a look very similar to sleep but not so, in his blue eyes that she recalled with fondness and no real anxiety now. His eyes give him away every time for her, and it was suited as they were windows to his soul, and they would share one very soon.

It was an intimacy she no longer feared, this side of her incident fear had no real place in her life any longer. She’d seen death and faced it, beat it into submission and said not today. She knew herself, her strengths, her weaknesses and how to play them and those around her. She would never again let a man scare her, for any reason. She would never bend to them with a seductress approach. There would be no more sexualization of herself for work, she didn’t need it now. That was child’s play and she was a woman. She would be a wife, she would be a mother, God granting, and there was a power in that no one could take away. Alfie had seen that in her, and thus he was the only one who would see that side of her again.

“Alfie darling,” She asks with an inquisitive exhale.

“Yeah, love?” He says as he looks across the room to see her fingers toying with the jewelry she wore. Her newest gift caught the light like a vision, the sound of precious jewels and metals clinking and sliding across her olive skin, once again warm and tan from the sun of summertime.

“Would you like to assist me in readying for bed?” Her eyes were soft but dark, her sultry tone sent warmth into his belly as he sat up at attention and watched her with her hand wrapped around the large sapphire pendant, moving her chest much to the delight of his more unevolved needs. The full swell of her hips, a newly rounded and soft body from age, injury and indulgence in her love of cooking are prominent as her hand rests on her hip. A touch of attitude as she welcomes him to touch her.

There had been a clear line between them. One he did not mind now and respected, despite his own body growing restless some nights as he watched her disrobe. His twitching fingers always warned him of the incoming swell of his cock. His hands missed touching her, feeling her soft under them as he removed her armor of stones and sequins to reveal the pink and imperfect woman beneath. It was a process he found so erotic, so intimate he’d never indulged in it before he was with her. He’d paid plenty of girls for plenty of things but never the intimate act of undressing a woman, of caring for her to relax and ease her at the end of a long day. He saw her opening up to him, offering that sanctity of the near-religious ritual for them both again. He’d not wanted to insult her, to suggest she couldn’t do anything on her own so he had stopped initiating the process. But he saw his respect had earned him a place in her heart and in her bed once again.

“Oh pet,” his voice soothing and deep as he rose in his silken pajamas, the top still unbuttoned as his hand rubbed the fluff that covered his chest in a gesture to show his thanks. He watches the smile bloom across her face, a softness to the round cheeks and dark lashes only he could create with his words and he relishes in it as he approaches. Her body language opens, arms to her sides as his hand slides to the small of her back.

“I know you’ve missed it.” She only has to speak softly for him to hear so close as his height makes her fall into his shadow.

“I have. I have.” He nods with a masculine tone from his chest that warms her.

“Would you like to start with the jewels? Or leave them for last?” The tease in her smile makes him hum happily and lean down to kiss her. “Or perhaps not remove them at all?” Her nose wrinkles as a quiet, brief laugh erupts and his smile turns gentle, eyes crinkled at the edges with amusement for her.

“Cheeky bugger.” He scolds playfully. “Where’s this woman been, eh? She has been reborn from the ashes of her former self? A fuckin’ Phoenix that is. I’ve seen this strong, resilient and powerful one with her dagger eyes and stone face now for so long in the place of the former. But I’d be fuckin lyin’ if I claimed to not be enamored by her as well.”

“This woman is only for you now. No one else deserves her… this side of me now. Only you.” The vulnerability in her voice was clear, and soft exhale as she savors the feeling of his skin against hers in such a way again. A burn and chill deep in her body as the flames inside died and a new woman was born for the purpose of their physical affections. One with a still raw sensitivity to touch, ones whose wounds were closed but still pink and tender just like her body was for him.

“Few things could make me as happy, love.” He whispers as he presses a kiss to her cheek and lingers. “Shall I?” He offers with a mood-setting drag of his strong nose against her jaw that sent a quivering jolt down her neck and veining out into her extremities.

“You shall.” She nods slowly. “Ready your little wife for bed.” She suggests breathily, quickly answered with a deep territorial grunt from him she sighs wistfully and smiles. The heat between them no longer from their spatial relations but from a reigniting of a long-dormant ember that had refused to die they both shared.

“Fuck me, it sounds even better when you say it, love.” His coarse voice drags across her skin as he keeps close, her deep perfume with hints of lavender that was so distinctly her fills his nostrils as he kisses his way across the crown of her head to stand behind her. “I’ve thought of you as mine for so long. Seems like it’s been this way for years now, yeah?”

“It’s hardly been years we’ve known each other.” She remarks with raised brows, watching their reflection in the mirror in front of her.

“We’ve been through enough for two lifetimes already.” His brows match hers in their expressiveness. A silent confession that it had all felt too much for a time.

“Perhaps we had it easy in a past life. And perhaps this trip will assure our next one together will once again be simpler than we are now.”

“It’s a lovely sentiment.” He says with a clear tone of disbelief.

“But not very likely yes?” She gives him a light-hearted smile that told him she was still firmly Grounded.

“Not fuckin’ likely.” He nods as he continues gathering her hair after removing the combs. His hands were far gentler than any time before with her. No rush to his movements or words, only a sense of duty and patience for his other half he was displaying fully. “Ya know...before ya were sick,” He begins delicately. “You would’ve insisted on your correctness and that I was a stubborn arse who had no imagination.” A smile crosses his face and a laugh he doesn’t expect bubbles up from her chest as he works on taking off her jewelry.

“It was another time. I was different. Now we’re both jaded.” She shrugs. “Both stubborn, hateful things now.” she frowns and he reads the clear playful nature of her honest observations.

“Always been stubborn love.”

“We BOTH have always been and always will be.” She corrects with a pointed finger. “But now we are both on the same page.” She exhales with a pleasant expression. “All my whimsy is tied to you now, my love.” She gives a single nod to him in punctuation as he meets her eyes in the mirror. “Although I could never rightly claim you have no imagination. After tonight in the museum I would especially be eating my words.”

“What a giving observation.” He thanks her with a kiss to her shoulder as he unpins her earrings, Everything being gently laid in the gilded tray on her vanity. “But it was you what gave me the idea, right?”

Her head tilts in question at his words.

“Ya might not recall, but when I brought you back home and you were on your medicine,” the ease with which they spoke of it now was a blessing. With the air clear between them on the events that followed her abduction and her strong arming herself to overcome her own anxieties, not left with a choice but to be successful as a woman in the world she lived in, their communication was more transparent than ever. “You would stay up in your studio and paint. I’d leave ya with a canvas on the wall and I’d come back to retrieve you and the paintings would be all over the wall around the little square.”

“I only recall staring at lillies.” She answers quietly, a hint of shame still when she spoke of it.

“You were paintin’ your little hiding place at that time, yeah? You would talk to ya self when I didn’t announce myself. And you’d say things… very similar to your musing tonight actually, about the barrier not being real and that. The hindrance of artistic freedom you would say. Your water Lilies would cover those walls. And they were lovely. Soft and fuzzy, much like you at the time.” He adds with another affectionate kiss to her hand and forearm, stroking it gently and looking at the sapphires that weighed down her delicate wrists.

He recalls those wrists being injured and bruised and useless. Now only pink scars as reminders, her fingers healed and now a tiny bit crooked looking in the absence of her rings. They’d healed and he found the comparison of his memory of her injuries to be a perfect match for how their relationship had evolved.

“It was unconventional but I did like the avant-garde approach. The dreamy state of you spilling out into reality what where it was only in Ya head before.” His brows knit and he very slowly and hesitantly removes the heavy bracelet. “I wanted that for you tonight, love. I wanted to show you in my way that anything in that enthralling mind of yours is possible.”

“Even a beautiful proposal from the man I love.” She takes a deep breath and shuts her eyes as he kisses up her arm. “After all the ugliness we’ve endured. The parts of me I’ve had to let go of to survive,” She speaks calmly but as always, her self reflection is something he greatly admires. “Once again you’ve changed my view on love and what it truly is.” She keeps her eyes closed as his kisses land on her cheek.

“Ya fuckin brilliant Chanah.” He whispers “I can only agree and say the same of you. Didn’t think women like you fuckin’ existed. Certainly didn’t fink I’d even love someone as I do you, neshama sheli.”

“Ani ohev otkha.” She replies softly as he exhales onto the bend of her neck.

“Ani ohev otkha.” He wraps his arms around her and holds her tightly. Maybe it was that she was speaking Hebrew with a tongue that sounded like it was born to do so. A woman worthy of being held higher than others. It could be the emotions wrapped up in the long overdue events of the night that led him to have such feelings. “Chanah…” He begins with a kind tone, his cheek pressed against her hair. She hums quietly in response, hands gently rubbing over his forearms. “We don’t have to do this.” He says with a less amorous tone.

Her eyes flutter open in surprise. “Do what? Get married?” She asks with an offended tone as she turned quickly in his arms.

“Fuck no love! This the…” He motions with his hand between their bodies. “We don’t have to be physical like this. This feels like its leading to bed and I don’t want you feelin' like you have to just cause-“

She puts her fingers over his plush lips and chuckles. “Oh, Ari.” She sighs, shaking her head at him as if he were a child. “To be so intelligent you certainly can be a fool.” She moves to hold his cheeks.

“What the fuck ya on about?” He gruffs out.

“I want you to listen carefully. Because I mean what I am about to say.” She gives a nod of her chin his way. “I will never again do something for a man that I don’t want to. And that includes you.” She adds with a gentle pat of his face. “That includes any wifely duties.” She kisses his lips as she watches his face turn into a look of understanding. “Although it is you who has the obligation to me.” She grins and bops his nose before pushing his hair back affectionately.

“I just know it’s… delicate for ya pet.” He adds softly with a tone that only makes her more sure of her want of him.

“It is. Was.” She waves her hands dismissively. “But I will not let that fear rule me or my actions. I love you, and I love expressing that affection physically. Tonight has made me feel warm and safe and full in a way that astounds me. I know you would never hurt me in this way. I know you are a wealth of understanding for me and I’m not afraid of it anymore. Not when it’s with you.”

“Ya sure? Is there no part that wants to wait? Until the wedding? Keep these acts of tradition going?”

“Is it something you want?” Her eyes narrow as she studies him.

“Don’t make a fuckin difference to me, love. You’ve been me wife in my mind for a while now. Nothin done between us can be seen as wrong as I see it.”

“You have, have you?”

“From ages ago.” He answers dramatically. From that night you came over to me house after Paris, yeah? And you forgave my sorry arse for up 'n leavin'. For being such a bellend and thinkin' you weren’t the best fing to happen to a bastard like me. But I knew ya were then. And the night you were taken…” his voice slows and moves to a deeper, less showy inflection. He pulls her against him, kissing her for a long moment to make up for lost time like he’d wanted to for months now and all those nights she’d been missing. "That gift I gave you tonight had been gatherin' dust for months now. Had it polished to where you could see your reflection in it that night, I did. Had flowers, a plan…”

“Then I had to go and fuck it all up.”

The humor behind her words surprises him but makes him smile at the dark honesty of it. “Yeah, ya did.” He caresses his nose against hers and they both share a laugh for a brief moment.

“I had no idea that night. Or this. Always full of surprises, you are.” She wrinkles her nose at him affectionately.

“Just have to get ya distracted is all.” He mutters to make it sound less impressive than it was.

“And modest.”

“Only when it comes to you. I fuckin know betta. You’ll put me in my place.”

“And so perceptive.” She kisses him softly. “I would’ve said yes then, same as now. We are only stronger now, more resilient than before yes? Had to earn it. We can’t take each other for granted. We won’t now.”

“Never. Every day I have you I am acutely aware that it could be the last. I’ll promise it now to ya, yeah. For granted is somethin' I’ll never take ya. Even if I’m not around, or I’m being a right cunt. Know that I know, right”

“You are somehow more charming to me now than ever.” She snickers.

“Thank fuck for at because if not I’d have nothin goin' for me.” He remarks loudly and they fall into a breathy laugh that turns into a kiss.

“I am so looking forward to being your wife.” She admits openly after a moment of resting their heads together. “In the meantime how’s about we pretend hmmm? Finish readying me for bed and join me. I want to be yours tonight.”

“Whatever you want my lovely, missus.” He coos with less cheeky boy and more experienced man to his body language as his hands moved to unbutton each silken circle down her back with patience.

The soft curve of her nape is revealed, a kiss to the rounded bone visible there. She allows herself to melt when his lips touch her. Each button was undone, another kiss down her back between her shoulder blades. His hands are rough on the peaks of his palms and fingertips, but soft to the touch on her buttery skin as the shoulders of the gown fall easily and he wraps his hands around her to untie the waist.

It didn’t take long for it to occur to him as he watched her in the mirror that she wasn’t wearing a bra. “What sort of good little Jewish girl goes without her pants at her own bat mitzvah?” He teases.

“I do have knickers on.” She defends herself. “The dress was so tight I didn’t need one.” She explains.

“Fuckin' ell ya ain’t lyin', love.” He dotes as his hand rub the pink marks around her waist from the tight dress, falling to the floor and proving her statement about her pants true. “Why ya wear it if it hurts you? Leavin' ya with marks.”

“I hardly notice anymore.” She shrugs.

“Let your husband take care of these. Can’t have a wife go to bed like this. What sort of man would I be?”

“The sort I wouldn’t marry.” She teases as he grins against her skin, whiskers twitching and tickling.

“And you are mine. So I betta take care of this. Here. Step out of these, let me free you up. Certainly not an excuse to see this heavenly vessel move about.” He kisses her bare shoulder as his hands ran over her hips and her silk lingerie joins the dress where they’ll stay until morning. “Fuckin hell you are gorgeous.” He groans into her collar bones as his hand wanders freely. “This is alright, yeah?” He questions with concern in her ear.

“Perfectly so.” She strokes the side of his face for his consideration. “If it’s not, I will tell you. Promise. I want you, without editing, give me my Ari back tonight and let me be his.” Her poetic words still make him feel warm from the inside out. A suspended reality when they were together where he was a man who deserved such things. The air hit his skin as they kissed and moved together in a lover's dance toward the bed, her pushing his loose shirt off on the way.

A long, naked snog under the covers takes away everything else that could be holding them back from one another. There was no past in this moment that she surrendered to. There was nothing to remind her of her time in that dark room there. There was never love, security, Respect or passion like this. This wasn’t what had happened to her she realized. She’d been connecting the wrong ideas. What had happened to her wasn’t sex. But neither was this. This was making love and between two consenting adults who were committed to one another and bound by something fierce that neither could rationally explain. They let go of their hardened and logistic minds together, neither wanting to explain what they felt with words any longer. They only wanted to lose themselves in whatever seemingly unexplained connection they felt after feeling so separate for so long.

He touched her as if she might break, but not out of fear of doing so, but from adoration. His patience coming through with his mouth at worship of every part of her. She was soft and full like a goddess in a renaissance painting. She was built for love and life he thought, feeling her full thighs around his head. He buried himself in the lavender-scented garden between her legs and ate and drank the nectar of her. This would be the first time she let go for him that night.

The next was sudden, distracted by the bunching of sheets around them, her limbs wrapped around the strong body of the man she took her power back with. She had only requested his mouth to never leave her when he asked what she needed of him. Nothing else mattered. She craved the closeness, the intimacy of skin to skin and the smells and tactile sensations of their joining. His muscles moved with years of knowledge behind them as her hands grasped at them. The sweat from the act itself, their bodies so immersed and exhausted their skin wept, the smells of masculine and feminine mixing into something that could never be replicated by anyone else.

He had slowly and without remark opened her and pleased her to allow him inside without pain. Keeping his promise to never hurt her. The longest lovemaking session they’d ever had led her to be so aroused her skin flushed at its surface and glistened with beads of sweat as they moved. Her nipples hard and aching, same as her clit that felt the rush of blood from her racing heart. He used every bit of himself to soothe her as he brought out the side of herself she’d been suppressing in fear. He stroked and pet every piece to make her mind quiet and her body softens, he reminded her why she loved this before, and why she would once again.

She would never silence herself for any man in or out of bed and she practices this vow in full. Her cries up at the canopy, into his fussed hair or muffled by his shoulder as she sucked away at him, they always reached his ears and made him ache for the time they’d lost. He had missed her. The sex had always been great between them, but now it was about more than that. A way for two people who made their living with words and violence to leave it behind as if who they were outside of each other was shed like a snakes skin before they joined in bed. Both leaving their hard selves outside the bedroom door and letting the real raw versions come out only for one another. There were no words needed, those cried out were their given names and called out in pleasure and praise.

There was no parting as they finished, a way to keep it holy by not wasting a drop as he stayed inside her and kissed every bead of sweat from her face, tasting her salty sweetness. As his arms shake she directs him to her chest, ordering him to rest. There was nothing amiss with him shielding her from the outside world like this, connected as one even as they slept. It almost felt like the closing of a chapter for them, a period to end the long winter they’d faced together. But it couldn’t be truly so, as their stories had only merged. Becoming a single tale to recall in legend years after they were gone. Yes, it was only the beginning for them, for as joyous as it was for them, some would be against the pairing in a way just as impassioned as they were.

Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT!

@jaegeeeeer @cosettewinchester @lookuptheskyisfalling-blog @brianaisasongbirdd @cry5t4l-w4rri0r @jess2464 @hardygal69 @thegarrisonpublichouse @a-flock-of-angry-pigeons @pootle @negansdirtygirl22 @musingsby-night @shine-dont-shadow @inkinterrupted @vale0413 @emerald-bijou @elaenom @give-jack-a-lightsaber @ultrablackwidower @tinastarkandco @arrowswithwifi @marvelgirl7 @they-are-not-just-stories @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes @alitheamateur @gold-trashbag @divadinag

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sunflowerstache · 6 years ago

Text

Not So Bad In L.A

A/N: It’s finally posted y’all! I’m so sorry it’s been so long since I last updated, life has kind of just been a bit busy and I was definitely in a writing jam/had some major writer’s block! But I got past it and I hope this was worth the wait! Love you all, and as always, if you have any questions/concerns/suggestions/want to get tagged/all of the above, please let me know! I love hearing from you beautiful people!

Chapter 5: The Light Is Coming

February 3, 2017

Word Count: 3.9k

Masterlist Fic Masterlist

Previous Chapter

“Excuse me, you’re doing what with who?!”

You and the girls were all sitting together in your living room, nursing a bottle of Moscato. It was the afternoon after Harry’s birthday party, and Nick had texted you early this morning, undoubtedly dragging his hungover feet on the way to the breakfast Harry had mentioned. Not only did he want to make sure you got home alright the night before, but being the nosy man that he is, felt the need to ask what went on with you and Harry while he was ‘knocking back countless tequila shots’.

“Don’t make it a bigger deal than it is, Sav. It’s lunch with a new friend.”

“Sure... lunch with a new friend who happens to be Harry fucking Styles.” Bri laughed, going to answer the door as the doorbell just sounded through your apartment.

Bella chuckled, picking up the now empty bottle of wine and frowning, “How are we out already?” she got up and walked into the kitchen, yelling; “Have you told Morgan about your new friend yet?”

“Not yet, no. She wants to take the USMLE soon so I don’t wanna bother her.” The USMLE is a 3-step test a hopeful doctor has to take in order to be eligible to get their medical license. She was trying to take it as early as possible, and you had to constantly remind her that she was definitely going to ace it since she was the smartest girl you’d ever met.

“Better tell her now before she sees you on some twitter account or some shit.” Sav laughed, “Also, I don’t want to be like a downer, but you know Harry might ask about your family, right? Are you – are you like, prepared for all that?”

The room got quiet and all eyes fell on you. You fiddled with the blanket resting on your lap and felt your chest grow a bit tighter. Bri and Bella had both re-entered the living room; Bri resting against the door frame and Bella taking her place back next to you on the couch.

“I um, I haven’t really thought about it.” You shrugged. You absolutely adored your family. When you lived at home, you valued nothing more than spending time with the people you love. And deciding to leave them was the hardest thing you ever done. But like most families, there were some things you just didn’t talk about. Some things you just didn’t want to even think about.

“Alright, how about we don’t be debby downers right now, and instead, we talk about this package that just came for Y/N.” Bri smiled, walking over to sit on the hardwood floor in front of you, handing you your package

“Ooooh, did your new boyfran send you something already?”

“Honestly, it was probably Ronnie. You know Y/N’s mom loves sending mail.”

“It’s from Youtube.” You smiled, opening the large box, “It’s um – it’s my plaque for reaching 100,000 subscribers.” YouTube was something that you never really talked about. It was something you did on the side after each one of your trips and people seemed to enjoy it. You loved creating a video where people could really capture the feel of a location before getting the chance to go, or even just watch the video for fun. You had somehow conned 100,000 very dedicated people into watching your videos and you couldn’t be more thankful for them.

“YES BITCH!”

“I know I’m speaking for all of us when I say you really deserve this. Seriously, you work your ass off for the magazine and then come home and work on your videos and I’m just really proud of you.” Bella smiled, raising her glass. Having your best girlfriends around you and supporting you during a journey that you didn’t know you would ever embark on was more important than any sort of award you could receive.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry texted you early the next morning. You were sitting at your kitchen island, basking in the early morning sunlight that was shining through your windows and enjoying a bowl of Cheerios, when your phone dinged. You knew it wasn’t Nick, as he was still passed out on your couch. And it wasn’t any of the girls, as they were all getting ready for work. The five of you had a riveting night of watching The Office (Nick of course butting in and making comments about the original UK version) while playing a drinking game: take a shot whenever anyone makes eye contact with the camera. It was a quick way to ensure getting drunk, albeit not a great idea for the 3 of 5 of you who had work that morning. Nick was leaving to go home later tonight, after spending nearly a week showing you his favorite spots around LA, encouraging you all to drink more in those 3 weeks than you had since moving, and spending some days just cuddled on the couch watching movies. It was nice having him there. Granted, he had spent a day or two with other LA based friends of his, but waking up to him in your living room was nice, because you knew you most likely wouldn’t be seeing him again for some time. Glancing down at your phone, you smiled at the incoming message.

“Still willing to have lunch with me? Around 11?”

Part of you had thought he’d forgotten about his proposition. That maybe he was more drunk than he lead on that night and had just forgotten about you. Before his party, the two of you had been texting for almost three days straight, so it was odd when you didn’t hear from him the last day and half. You shook your head and thought the same thing you had been telling yourself; “He’s a superstar Y/N, he’s busy.”

“I think the real question is do you still want to have lunch with me?”

You sat and continued your chat with Harry for quite some time, deciding what kind of food you were in the mood for and a central location for you both (which according to Harry wasn’t a necessity on his end). But to your surprise, he continued the conversation. You felt like you had known him forever, but after thinking about it, you really didn’t know much about him… Other than what you learned by being a fan, and so you decided if you were going to be friends with the infamous Harry Styles, you were going to get to know the real Harry Styles.

“What the fuck are you smiling at, at 7am. There’s literally nothing to be happy about this early.”

“Nick, you wake up at like 4am for work, this should be nothing for you.” You chuckled, finishing your cereal and reaching to place your bowl in the sink across from your seat at the island.

“I’m generally not this hungover when going to work.” You opened your mouth to argue that statement, but he beat you too it and held up a finger, “I said generally.”

Not bothering to stifle a yawn, he reached into the cabinet to grab a mug and made himself busy making his morning coffee. Having him in the house was nice. Living with three other girls could get a bit hectic sometimes. There was usually lots of whining and yelling to be heard echoing through the house at all hours of the day, heels left all over the living room after long days of work, and you don’t remember the last time you were able to wake up and not find someone digging through your closet. It had been so long since you lived with a guy and it was nice being reminded of how simple it was.

“Alright look.” Nick mumbled as he turned around and leaned on the opposite counter to face you, “I’m leaving tonight, so you know I have to part with some brotherly advice.”

You sighed.

“Sorry.” he rubbed his eyes, “Anyways, I’m aware you’re talking to Harold and-“

“Grimmy no! I’m stopping you right there. We are not talking. We literally just met and are friends. I don’t even know if you can call us friends.” You knew this would be coming at some point before his departure. Nick always had a way to sneak in some weird form of protectiveness over you anytime he was around.

“You’re texting and meeting up. Call it what you will, but listen to me. Just be careful alright? I love the lad like he’s family, but when you’re with Harry, you’re not just with Harry. There’re always people watching and always something to be said about it. I just don’t want you surprised by anything.”

The ding of another incoming text message made you both look at your phone, smiling softly at Harry’s unknown perfect timing.

“Thanks Grim, I appreciate it. But I’m a big girl.”

“Look, I’m just trying to make sure your ass doesn’t get posted all over social media. If anyone’s gonna do it, it’s going to be me.”

“No one’s posting my ass anywhere. I’d have to have one in order for that to even happen.” The two of you broke out into a fit of giggles, eventually shushing each other in fear of waking up the rest of the house.

“Thanks for letting me crash with you these last couple days.” He smiled as you got up off your stool to make your way to stand in front of him.

“Thank you for coming to see me. I missed you.” You replied and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, “Now, I’m gonna go take a shower and get ready for my lunch plans with Harry and evidently the rest of the world.”

It was approaching 7:30am when you made your way into your room, watching Bri as she left your closet, holding a pair of black booties and uttering a sleepy “Morning.” You had about three hours before you had to meet up with Harry, realistically only two with getting ready and LA traffic. Your only dilemma was what to wear. You’ve seen how Harry dresses and can only assume what his standards are. Only problem was you didn’t own anything quite so designer. Shaking your head, you walked into your closet. After all, it was only lunch with a new friend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Upon arriving, you immediately knew that you and Harry had very different ideas of a causal lunch. Soft music and the murmur of conversations being held filled the air and you could faintly hear the sound of water in the distance.

“Hello. How may I help you today?”

You turned to see a young girl, most likely no older than 18, standing behind the podium and looking at you expectantly.

“I um, I think I have a reservation?” you then realized that you never talked to Harry about how this was going to work. Did you give the girl his name? What if someone heard and freaked out? Did he put it under an alias, and if so what was it? You probably looked like a crazy person standing there just starring at her blankly, “I’m meeting a friend, but I don’t know what the reservation is under.”

The young man standing next to her turned and interjected, “Mr. Einstein at table W12. I can escort her.” He made his way around the podium and pointed towards the back doors that led outside, “If you’ll follow me.” The restaurant was filled with predominantly middle-aged couples, which made sense considering it was a Friday at 11am. As the hostess in front of you opened the back doors, a small breeze blew through and your flowy white pants swayed with it. You had decided on pairing those pants with a green camisole top and a pair of small nude heels, figuring that if you were to somewhat dress up for any lunch, it would be this one. It crossed your mind for a brief moment that whoever this man was leading you to could in fact, not be Harry, but someone else waiting for someone to arrive, however, you then caught sight of his curls. Harry was seated in the far corner, head down looking at his phone, while one hand scratched the back of his neck. You could see his knee bobbing up and down and he was steadily chewing on his bottom lip, like whatever he was doing on his phone was causing him duress. But as soon as he heard your footsteps approaching, his head popped up and looked directly at you.

“Y/N. Hi.” He smiled as he stood up, opening his arms for a quick hug before the hostess led you right to an open chair at the tabl, ”Thank you Danny.” He nodded to the young boy.

“It’s good to see you again! Sorry I didn’t text you earlier, I was doing work stuff and Grimmy was over most of the day yesterday and you know how he gets.” He laughed

“No, don’t worry about it! Thanks for the invite…… Mr. Einstein.”

“I try not to give my real name when going out. Kind of causes a big thing that I just want to avoid, you know? Thought Einstein would be a good enough give away, considering you did call yourself that you when we met.” He chuckled

The two of you chatted for a bit, not really about much, mostly you telling him about a new piece you were working on for the magazine. He was very intent on just listening to you talk, which was something you hadn’t really experienced before. Growing up, you were always fighting for attention between your friends and family members, since there are so many of you. Not that how you grew up was a bad thing, just having someone who was genuinely interested in what you had to say was a nice change of pace. But you had made a promise to yourself this morning, you were going to get to know Harry, so you finally decided to take the topic off of yourself.

“Alright well, if we’re going to be friends, I can’t be the only one who talks. I happen think you quiet enjoy talking about yourself.” You surprised yourself being so up front with him, but like you’d been thinking since you first met, you felt very comfortable around Harry.

“Oh, do you now? What else do you think you know about me?” he smirked, leaning forward and folding his hands on the table.

And that’s how it started. Instead of playing the typical 20 questions game to learn about each other, you just spewed out different assumptions you had about the other. It ranged anything from where you’re from to your favorite animal to what your favorite kind of cake was.

“Okay, okay. You’re a One Direction fan.” he guessed. At this, you could feel your ears perking up and warmth in your cheeks. Averting your eyes, you glanced to your side at the water.

“What lead you to that assumption?”

“I may have made a few inquiries before lunch today.” he shrugged, “Am I correct?”

“Hmmm yeah, I guess you could say that. I um – my best friends - Bella, Sav and I have been fans since you guys finished X Factor. And it just kind of snowballed from there. We had been to like five shows. Were looking forward to hearing album number five live, but there was a hiatus announced before that could happen.”

“Yeah, well I hear they wanted to try the whole ‘Solo’ thing.”

“Yet, only one has released music.” you pondered, jokingly.

He smiled, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms, “I happen to have it on good authority that the devishly handsome one is working on his music.”

“Devishly handsome? Niall really does have something special about him, huh.” You joked, sipping your water and staring at him over the glass, “Joking. I look forward to hearing it one day.”

The two of you quickly fell back into your game of information and bouncing assumptions off one another, laughing when someone got one correct and correcting them when it was wrong. He raised his eyebrows when you corrected him on your favorite song – his guess being Waste a Night by Kings of Leon “simply based on your reaction to it at the concert.”

“It’s actually Girl Crush by Little Big Town.” You nodded,l to yourself, waiting for a laugh or even an unenthused ‘really?” but it never came.

“Great song.” He nodded, like he was making a mental note of the song

“I’m confident in this one.” You smiled smugly, “Your favorite band is Fleetwood Mac.”

“One of them, definitely. Huge influence growing up and getting into music. Good thing we aren’t keeping score, ‘cause I’d be out for the count.”

“All those years being a fan are finally paying off. But, because I’m off the record winning and feeling very generous, I’ll give you give three extra assumptions – uninterrupted. Go.”

“You can’t put me on the spot like that! Okay, um your favorite food is rice?”

You looked at him quizzically, “How-“

“You ordered extra rice with dinner. Educated guess.” He shrugged before moving onto his next one, scrunching up his nose like he knew this one would be wrong “You have a dog?”

“Wrong. No dogs allowed in the apartment. Bri’s allergic. Leaning towards getting a kitten soon tho!” you grinned, excited by the thought of having a sweet lil bub prancing around your apartment.

“A cat person, duly noted.” Smiling, he tucked some hair, that had been blown into his face by the increasing wind, back behind his ear, ““Alright.” he sat quiet for a moment, thinking of his next comment, “You’re an only child.”

There it was. The question that you dreaded but always gets asked. You should have known it was coming at some point soon, considering you had been talking to each other about your personal lives, including families, for almost an hour. It was normal; the person you were making friends with wanting to know about your family. But it made the knot in your stomach zoom up into your throat. You could go one of two ways, give Harry the full truth like you know he would want, or the less painful way and tell a white lie. He wouldn’t even know if it was a lie, right? I mean, it’s not like he would dig into your family history. Mentally you sighed, deciding that telling the truth was the only option. It wasn’t something you wanted to hide. It didn’t seem fair.

“False. I um, I have a brother and a sister.”

“Really? What are they like?”

“Well, my sister Morgan is 20 and she goes to school at The Medical University of South Carolina. She wants to be a pediatrician.” you grinned, thinking about her in the Winnie the Pooh scrubs she showed you last night.

“And your brother?” Your smile slowly faded and suddenly the body of water next to you was the most interesting thing you’ve ever seen. Did you want to do this? Share this with someone you really barely knew? Hell, you didn’t even like talking about this with Grimmy or the girls. Licking your lips and taking a deep breath, you decided what to do.

“Brandon’s my older brother. He’s honestly the best person I’ve ever known. He went to The School of Visual Arts in New York. He wanted to be a videographer. He was amazing.” you paused, glancing over at Harry, who was intently waiting for you to finish talking. The gleam in his eyes was present when he noticed your use of the past tense, silently understanding what that meant. “He was the kind of guy you just wanted to be friends with, ya know?” you continued, “Like he could talk about sports with you for hours, but you wanted to talk about music? He knew that too. Art? Cars? He was your guy. He just got along with everyone.”

“Well, he sounds fantastic.” Harry nodded, reaching across the table to grab your hands

“He is - was.” you gently shook your head, “He um, he passed away almost 3 years ago. I think everything just got to be too much for him? I’m still not entirely sure.”

The waves softly crashed to your left and you could hear the hustle and faint bustle of the street to your right, but the two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a moment. “I’m sorry. This isn’t a very fun conversation to be having on a lunch date.” you let out a small fake laugh but he shook his head

“No, it’s alright. I’m glad you felt comfortable enough to tell me. Means a lot.” he smiled, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand.

The two of you sat quietly for a moment, enjoying each other’s company, and you noticed Harry’s hand still resting on yours. It was big enough to almost engulf yours entirely, and it gave off a nice wave of heat. Just enough to make you forget about the chilling wind that blew past the two of you. Your waitress had come to drop of your bill and much to your protest, Harry had insisted that he pay. Something you knew he would try to do from the moment he asked you to lunch. So, you didn’t let him push you. Before he handed his card to the waiter, you slipped your card into the small black folder and insisted that the bill be split in two. He gave you a pointed glance and shook his head, but you knew he wasn’t too upset. After all, his hand never faltered.

“Thank you for coming today. I know you were probably pretty weirded out being asked to lunch with some guy you barely knew. But I really enjoyed it.”

“Oh, it was super weird. Considering the guy in question was someone I’ve looked up to for like 7 years.” you giggled, slightly embarrassed, “But I’m glad you did. It was fun. Plus, now Nick can stop making fun of me for not having any friends in LA.”

He shook his head, pushing his chair out so he could stand, “God, Nick, ever the passionate one.” He moved behind you quickly so that he could pull your chair out.

“Did I tell you he tried to give me a speech about you this morning? How you’re famous and always have people watching.”

Harry gaped at you, “You taking the piss? He sat me down in the kitchen yesterday. Told me I had to remember you ‘aren’t used to the limelight, so be careful’. Like I was planning on taking you to a red carpet or something.” He chuckled, “I had to remind him it was just lunch.”

“He just tries to go all brotherly on me since – “ you paused, talking a deep breath, “Since Brandon’s not around to do it. At least that’s his reasoning. He may be a pain sometimes, but he means well.”

Coming to the front doors of the restaurant, a sad feeling radiated over your body. You lunch with Harry was coming to a close, and he had said he was going back to London next week, so you didn’t know if this was the last time you’d be seeing him for some time. And you quiet enjoyed your time together today. He cleared his throat and chuckled beside you before opening the front door,

“So… a lunch date huh?”

Tag List: @emotionally-imbruised @theasstour @swayingnoodlelove @movingalong3 @staceystoleyourheart @north1692 and the lovely @isitstraightvodka @isitjamiemoriarty @meet-me-in-the-kitchen @meetyourmouths for always being so wonderful and supportive and just great pals💛

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