#mia dillon | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dweemeister · 1 year ago

Photo

Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret. (2023)

According to the American Library Association, there were over 1,200 challenges to remove library books or resource materials from an American school or public library in 2022. It was the highest number since the ALA started collecting data in 2003 and about half of these challenges result in a restriction or full removal of that text from circulation. Judy Blume’s Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret. was one of the most frequently challenged books in the United States from its publication in 1970 through the 2000s due to its discussions of spirituality, girls’ sexuality, and menstruation. The recent book banning headlines in America tend to feature novels that have LGBTQ+ themes or have protagonists and/or prominent secondary characters who are non-white in tales surrounding racial relations. These contemporary debates might make the fury surrounding Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret. seem quaint, in a culture far removed from the present. However, Blume’s book (and the debate surrounding it) remains relevant more than fifty years after its publication.

Perhaps it might surprise non-readers that Kelly Fremon Craig’s adaptation of Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret. (henceforth, I will use simply Margaret in italics if referring to the book) is a gentle coming-of-age film in an environment sorely lacking such works right now. The lack of overly precocious children with a cynical wisecrack for every situation has few relations among its raunchy relatives of the last few decades; so too the absence of the meta humor and period-specific jokes of John Hughes’ (1984’s Sixteen Candles, 1985’s Ferris Bueller’s Day Off) movies. That cynical precociousness and audience-winking, period-specific humor could easily have appeared in Margaret if Craig, who also wrote the screenplay, made too many deviations from the source material. With Blume’s guiding hand as a producer, Craig’s as writer, and an enjoyable ensemble performance – especially Abby Ryder Fortson as Margaret – this is a worthy adaptation and entry into the American coming-of-age film canon.

Returning home to Brooklyn from a New England summer camp, eleven-year-old Margaret Simon (Fortson) is upset to hear that her parents Barbara (Rachel McAdams) and Herb (Benny Safdie) are soon to move to suburban New Jersey, leaving grandmother Sylvia (Kathy Bates) alone in New York. Shortly after arriving at the Simons’ new home, Margaret befriends eventual classmate Nancy Wheeler (Elle Graham), and her friends Janie Loomis (Amari Alexis Price) and Gretchen Potter (Katherine Kupferer). Through the school year, the girls will gossip about their classmates, talk about boys who catch their interest, bras, changes to their bodies, and more – the manner of their conversations, for middle school-aged characters, are unusual to see in films, let alone in literature. Meanwhile, their teacher, Mr. Benedict (Echo Kellum) assigns a yearlong research project to all. Noting Margaret’s answers on a getting-to-know-you assignment, he suggests looking into religion. That’s a touchy subject in the Simon household. Mother Barbara comes from a Christian family; father Herb from a Jewish family. Due to furious disagreements with Margaret’s grandparents, neither parent actively practices religion, nor have they imposed religion upon Margaret (she is free to choose when she “grows up”). Despite this, Margaret communicates to God on occasion about her hopes and concerns. Through the school year, Margaret will learn more about herself and religion, mostly on her terms.

Are You There God? It’s Me Margaret. also stars Isol Young as Laura Danker, a girl who is the target of nasty words because of her early puberty; Aidan Wotjak-Hissong as Margaret’s sort-of crush, Moose (I certainly hope that is a nickname); Landon S. Baxter as Nancy’s brother, Evan; Zackary Brooks as slick-haired handsome boy/shmuck Philip Leroy; and Kate MacCluggage as Mrs. Jan Wheeler (also PTA President). Mia Dillon and Gary Houston play Margaret’s maternal grandparents.

In terms of approach and tone, this is as finely-tuned a literary adaptation as there could be. Blume’s Margaret, slender as it is at under two hundred pages, is episodic by necessity and structure, often employing time skips of several days or a few weeks into a new chapter. Craig’s Margaret does so as well, but brief montages and editing from Nick Moore (1997’s The Full Monty, 2005’s Nanny McPhee) and Oona Flaherty ease the transitions – fully exemplifying one advantage motion pictures have over prose. The period detail in Margaret firmly grounds it in 1970. Together, the costume design by Ann Roth (1985’s Places in the Heart, 2021’s Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom) and production design by Steve Sakald (2005’s Thank You for Smoking, 2021’s Barb and Star Go to Vista Del Mar) transport the viewer to that period.

This adaptation contains a refreshing lack of major deletions from the original novel. All of the book’s important episodes, exchanges, ideas, and tender wisdom are in the film, and none of the secondary cast have been short-changed. If anything, the only notable alteration from Blume’s novel is the addition of a subplot for Rachel McAdams’ Barbara. Within this cast, McAdams is easily the most bankable movie star at present (with apologies the wonderful Kathy Bates, but her character is not as central to the narrative), which may have been the justification for this decision. Nevertheless, the subplot – which revolves around Barbara joining the school’s parent-teacher association (PTA) and volunteering for multiple committees – seems unnecessary, sidetracking from Margaret’s point of view (and Blume’s book is entirely written in Margaret’s voice). Thankfully, Barbara’s PTA experience does not have much screentime and always quickly reverts to Margaret. That the filmmakers did not fully trust Abby Ryder Fortson to carry an adult audience’s attention for the film’s entirety is disappointing, regardless of McAdams’ solid performance, as she needs to be the true star of this film.

Audiences may know Abby Ryder Fortson best as Cassie Lang from Ant-Man (2015) and its 2018 sequel. In her first film as the lead, Fortson is brilliant. She embodies Margaret’s guardedness and anxiety when first moving to New Jersey, especially in juxtaposition to the overly confident Nancy. Fortson also capture Margaret’s earnestness, as well as a few scenes of cruelty and thoughtlessness – crucially, Margaret’s worst moment feels plausible, and never seems as if the behavior is coming from some other character entirely. However, Craig’s screenplay, due to its inability to stay firmly in Margaret’s point of view, underserves her in the film’s final act when her maternal grandparents arrive. By no fault of Fortson’s, the film does not delve deeply enough into how Margaret feels about her maternal grandparents’ estrangement and attempts to reconcile with her parents. Fortson can only do so much in lending Margaret a mix of bafflement and uncertainty in these scenes in arguably the most emotionally charged scenes of the film. Here, the film is torn between Margaret’s feelings about her maternal grandparents and parents’ disagreements and how parental decisions can impact children for the rest of their lives. It achieves neither.

I have never been a teenage girl, nor was I raised in an environment where any of the Abrahamic religions were even tangentially part of my life (let alone being part of an interfaith family). Judy Blume probably did not have someone like me principally in her mind when she wrote her book. But in Margaret, I saw a glimmer of the past that I imagine many of you will see for yourselves, too. The incredible awkwardness of being a pre-teen is probably something you, the reader, would probably like to keep half-forgotten. Rare is the film that can summon those feelings: of wanting to grow up (and quickly!), only to realize that those milestones that we associate with maturity are perhaps not as earthshaking as we imagined them to be. True maturation is more elusive than what Margaret and her friends envision. Religion, the passage of time, and sexuality cannot confer it. And some grown-ups never quite discover that. Fortson, through her performance, and Craig’s screenplay deliver on all of this, even if Fortson herself might not realize it yet.

At eighty-five years of age, Judy Blume has had a modest cinematic renaissance this year. Her books, fixtures in American children’s and young adult literature, have curiously not often been adapted for television or film. But with this film and the documentary Judy Blume Forever premiering at the Sundance Film Festival earlier this year, that appears to be changing. On the television front, Netflix is currently in production on an adaptation of her young adult novel Forever… (another Blume work often finding itself on most banned/challenged book lists); also in the pipeline are TV adaptations of the Fudge series for children and the adult book Summer Sisters. For the New Jersey-born-and-raised Key West, Florida native, conversations about her legacy are underway. Despite her unassuming persona and the gentleness of both Margaret and its film adaptation, Blume has been a vocal critic of Florida’s recent Parental Rights in Education bill (also known as the “Don’t Say Gay” bill) and requirements to review books based on state guidelines mostly over gender identity, race, and sex. No surprise for an author who has been the target of book bans from almost the beginning of her career.

Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret. arrives at a time when coming-of-age movies are, at least among the major and mini-major (such as Lionsgate, which distributed this film) American movie studios, no longer perceived as commercially viable for theatrical exhibition. Coming-of-age movies must be packaged within a superhero movie or tied to a franchise in order to find its way to American cinemas. The creative and financial heads of the superhero cinematic universes claim that their narratives can encompass genres/subgenres such as coming-of-age or political thrillers or historical epics, but their approach and distributional dominance precludes non-superhero affiliated films of such genres/subgenres from appearing in theaters in the first place. Their influence makes the existence of this film’s theatrical run – despite its apparent failure to find much of an audience beyond those who have read the book (non-readers of certain political stripes probably mistakenly thought this was a faith-based film from the evangelical Christian film industry or already knew about the book’s reputation and refused to see it) – a minor miracle.

Director Kelly Fremon Craig has worked on a coming-of-age film before surrounding a female protagonist in The Edge of Seventeen (2016). But Margaret – for its remarkable faith to the source material, engaging performances, and meticulous period detail – is an achievement surpassing that. Craig’s sensibilities as director and writer suit the film, and Fortson’s performance elevates it to the level of the most universal American coming-of-age movies.

My rating: 8/10

^ Based on my personal imdb rating. My interpretation of that ratings system can be found in the “Ratings system” page on my blog. Half-points are always rounded down.

For more of my reviews tagged “My Movie Odyssey”, check out the tag of the same name on my blog.

#Are You There God? It's Me Margaret #Kelly Fremon Craig #Judy Blume #Abby Ryder Fortson #Rachel McAdams #Kathy Bates #Benny Safdie #Elle Graham #Amari Alexis Price #Katharine Kupferer #Kate MacCluggage #Aidan Wojtak-Hissong #Landon S. Baxter #Echo Kellum #Zackary Brooks #Isol Young #Mia Dillon #Gary Houston #My Movie Odyssey

4 notes · View notes

alisonfelixwrites · 8 months ago

Text

Informed consent: chapter 5

Word count: 11,300

Mia didn’t think she had often been this nervous.

She remembered being nervous to tell her parents she got two B’s in sixth form. She remembered being nervous when her parents introduced her to Daniel with a very apparent wiggle in their brows. She remembered being nervous about being alone with him for the first time only to feel disappointment pretty soon after as he was constantly on his phone and hardly spared her a glance.

But now, she was extra nervous.

For one, she had never gone on a date before. She wasn’t sure what to expect even if Hazel had gone over a billion different scenarios with her.

Mia had blindly agreed when Harry so politely asked her on a date. Sharing that hug with him had felt like being surrounded by a warm blanket, Mia had felt. And then they had broken apart, shared some tea as he was alone in his apartment and spoke a little more about his brother.

Harry had admitted that Mia had spoken the truth with the words she spoke during the therapy session. She had also said that professor Dillon pushed her into forming some sort of diagnosis and to confront him, something she tried to get through to Harry that she didn’t want to do.

He understood, and told her it was alright. He opened up though, to Mia, not therapist Mia.

And then when she decided to go home once her stomach started growling, he left another one of those mind blowing kisses on her cheek. Mia was certain that by now he knew fully well the effect those kisses had on her. They made Mia flustered and made her stumble over her words. She truly had difficulty remembering the English language when he was that close to her.

And she was right, Harry did know how he made her feel. He relished in it a little, making her squirm just the right amount that it stayed playful before crossing the line into making her anxious or uncomfortable. He hoped she’d communicate it to him, if he crossed a line.

Mia was picking out an outfit for the date, and so far Hazel had convinced her into thinking of a codeword that she could text if she needed saving. Mia felt like she was overdoing it a little, solemnly getting back at Mia because that was how she behaved whenever Hazel went on a date with someone.

Mia always made Hazel turn on her location so she could follow along. She also asked for hourly updates, which Hazel usually forgot. Mia didn’t blame her, but it had caused her to stay up sometimes during the night, checking her phone every few minutes to see an update for Hazel that could ease her mind.

Hazel didn’t go that far, only teasing Mia a little for her excessive worries. With Mia going on her own date tonight, Hazel was playing stylist. Mia wanted to look like herself, only a little more put together. Harry hadn’t told her much about the date or what they were going to do.

So she wore black wide slacks and another cute floral top that she had lying around. Hazel continued complimenting her when she wore them until Mia shyly blushed.

“What time is he picking you up again?” Hazel asked for the fifteenth time. Mia anxiously nibbled her lip as she let Hazel brush through her hair. She had been for a while now and Mia suspected that her hair was brushed through enough, but she also suspected that Hazel could sense her anxiety and continued brushing through her locks to ease Mia’s nerves.

And she was right, it did feel extremely calming to feel someone playing with her hair.

“Seven.” Mia breathed, sliding a ring around her finger and then holding up her hand to inspect the way it looked. She tilted her head to the side for a better view, narrowing her eyes and all until she eventually decided to take it off again. She dropped it back into her jewellery box and let out a deep breath, “Okay, so tell me again what to do when he wants to – uh.. sleep with me.” Mia squeaked out.

Hazel drew a breath, “You’re going to be firm and clear. You’re going to say ‘Harry, I like you but I don’t know you well enough to take that step’.” She spoke. Mia nodded, repeating the words in her head before letting out another breath, “A-And do you think he’ll try to?”

“I don’t know.” Hazel shrugged, dragging the brush through the lengths of Mia’s brown hair, “Not everyone is set on sleeping with the other on the first date. It’s just important to have that conversation and it’s nothing to be ashamed about.”

Mia nodded, “Yeah.” She tried to convince herself at this point.

“Mia, he just likes you a lot.” Hazel softly spoke, stopping the movement of the brush as she moved to sit opposite Mia. Hazel’s hair was in a high bun and she was wearing casual wear. Apparently for once, she wasn’t going out on a Friday. She had caught a bit of a cold during the week and had been feeling a little under the weather.

Mia had taken it upon herself to make some fresh soup this afternoon after her classes. Even though Hazel stopped her and said it was too much, Mia had to admit she only partly did it for her friend’s sickness but also did it to ignore the nerves about the evening.

So cutting up carrots, tomatoes, onions – until she was crying violently and had to blink harshly to get rid of the tears and the stinging – and some leek, while watching Grey’s Anatomy, had made her think of something else besides the upcoming date with Harry. Which is what she had been thinking about for the past twenty four hours.

After her first excitement settled, the inevitable anxiety came lurking. What if he expected things? What if he realised he didn’t like her? What if it got awkward?

That’s when Hazel started distracting Mia by bringing up stories about the worst first dates. They started out as funny until Mia was giggling while stirring the vegetables on the stove, waiting for them to soften. The confessions turned rather serious after a bit though, with Hazel going over some important bits with Mia.

“I’m serious, Mia. When you say ‘no’, it means ‘no’. It doesn’t mean ‘maybe’ and it certainly doesn’t mean ‘yes’. Anything besides ‘yes’ means ‘no’. Only ‘yes’ means ‘yes’. Got it?”

Mia had listened intently and then had slowly nodded, asking Hazel what it meant if she just didn’t say anything. It was a possibility for Mia. More than often she had found herself unable to speak in moments of discomfort or anxiety. Like she just lost her tongue and couldn’t form words.

Hazel had firmly shook her head, “Silence means ‘no’. Only ‘yes’ means ‘yes’.”

The importance of consent was something her mother never really explained to Mia. Not her father either. The only thing her mother had really taught Mia about sex, was that it happened to serve the husband.

Of course throughout her education, Mia had gotten classes on sexual activity and during her readings in the field of philosophy or even psychology, she had learned a lot. Also through watching Grey’s Anatomy – where everyone seemingly had a relationship with everyone – Mia’s view on sex changed completely. She no longer thought she had to just lie there and wait for her husband to be done using her. She felt like she earned pleasure and that she had a say in it.

Hazel confirmed that, going on about different positions until Mia winced and curled up into a ball, wishing she had been born without ears or Hazel without a mouth.

Sex had never appealed much to Mia. She didn’t feel overly hormonal and had never come across a person who made her want to explore her own sexual side. She had never masturbated and was even a little scared to do so. It just didn’t sound like it could be something she liked, if anything – it sounded near painful.

So Mia steered clear of all those areas. Until she met Harry.

For the past few days, she had woken up during the night with a slight sheen of sweat covering her skin, with her mouth open in either a gasp or a moan, her hand tightly clutching the pillow and an uncomfortable pool of warmth between her legs.

Once, she had curiously dipped her finger down when she felt sticky and gross, and her eyes had widened in surprise upon feeling wetness. She had moved into the bathroom with red cheeks to clean herself up but not without inspecting what she saw on the toilet paper.

It wasn’t pee, because it was stickier and slimier than that. Also, it was see-through and it didn’t smell. Mia was curious, rubbing some of it between two of her fingers to feel the texture before she disposed of it and washed her hands.

It was unfamiliar, but it excited her nonetheless. Her body was reacting to Harry in a way it had never reacted to anyone else. For Mia, this was partly a confirmation that she truly did like him.

Mia was just zipping up her second boot when someone rang the bell. She straightened up immediately and just as quickly, Hazel’s head peaked out her bedroom with a wide grin, “It’s seven!”

Mia bit her lip and felt her heart drumming harshly in her chest. She nodded at Hazel and walked up to the intercom, pressing the little speaker, “Hey.” She smiled when she saw Harry through the little screen. He turned around to inspect the intercom and then grinned at the camera, “Hi.”

“I’ll be down in a second.” Mia smiled, already letting her eyes trial over what he was wearing even through a small black and white screen. Harry shortly nodded, “Can I come up for a minute? I have your book.” He held the book in his hand that she had handed him less than a week ago and Mia’s eyes widened, “You finished that?”

“Mia, maybe it’s easier to speak face to face then through the intercom!” Hazel called from her bedroom. Harry let out a chuckle upon hearing Hazel’s distant voice and Mia blushed, nibbling her lip, “Okay, second floor.”

Harry nodded and Mia pressed the button to let him up. She opened the door on a crack while running her hands through her hair again, pulling up her pants, tugging on her sleeves and smoothing her hands over her abdomen.

The footsteps in the hallway grew louder and she could faintly hear Harry greeting someone he passed by in the hall. Mia suspected it was Mister Stevens. He was an elderly single man living in this building and was always lurking around to catch everything. The moment he heard a bell going, he wandered the halls to see who arrived and which apartment they went into.

Hazel had had a few altercations with him when she brought home someone for the night and Mister Stevens caught them making out in the hall.

Soon enough, Harry’s head came into view as he jogged up the last bit of the stairs. He was in wintery attire with his signature navy beanie on his head, a cosy long sleeved shirt with a flannel over it and then his winter coat.

He wore black jeans and equally black boots and Mia had to really force herself not to drool at the sight of him. Especially when he smiled and those dimples made her lose her breath.

“Hi.” He mumbled again, standing in the doorway. Mia exhaled shakily, “H-Hello.”

The look she shot him – eyes open in wonder, cheeks slightly flushed – hadn’t gone unnoticed by Harry and it boosted his ego. He wasn’t wearing anything special since they were headed somewhere rather casual. He hadn’t told Mia much but she looked like herself too.

“You look so beautiful.” Harry complimented, taking in her form. The black slacks accentuated the length of her legs and nipped in at the waist a little where the dark shade of her bottoms contrasted with the lighter burnt orange of her flowery top. Long sleeves and a little tight around her chest, the fit complimented her body perfectly. Her hair was brushed over one shoulder and she couldn’t stop playing with the ends of her locks as she blushed under Harry’s compliment.

“Thank you.” Mia smiled, “You too.”

“I look really beautiful?” Harry teased and Mia blushed deeper, licking her lips and trying her very hardest to think of words in the English vocabulary that she could then speak instead of staring at him like a lost puppy.

“Yes.” She settled on murmuring and Harry’s smile grew a little as he breathed out a chuckle. He held up his hand, “Here, this is yours.”

“You finished it so quickly?” Mia asked, gently taking it from his hand. She flicked through the pages and exhaled a breath, suspecting that Harry didn’t like it if he went through it that fast. Maybe he really only pretended to read it to be of interest to her and have something to chat about. Those quotes he knew in the library could’ve been dumb luck of him opening up the book on the good page.

He shot her a blinding smile though, “I did. Couldn’t put it down. You highlighted all the passages that I liked the most, it was amazing to read with your little notes.”

Mia blushed deeper and tucked a strand of her hair away as she felt Harry’s eyes gazing over her features. She put the book to the side and shyly grabbed her coat right as Hazel popped her head out again, “Hi Harry.” She smirked.

“Hazel.” He nodded politely. She grinned, “Are you going to get my girl back home before midnight?”

He breathed out a laugh, “I’ll get her home safe, yeah. No worries.” He didn’t answer about the midnight thing, hoping this night would carry on a little longer than that.

Because little did Mia know she wasn’t the only one who had been nervous all day. Harry played it off cool though. The first six times his friends asked him about it, he shrugged it off and vaguely responded that he looked forward to it but didn’t really dive in.

The seventh time – when Zayn asked – Harry cracked. He spilled everything, about being so nervous about this date which honestly to him just felt like the first serious date he’d ever been on. Other times it just felt mandatory if he wanted sex, and now that wasn’t even on his mind.

Well, it was. Mia was gorgeous and involuntarily flirty. She made his heart flutter and blood rush to places she’d probably blush about, but Harry couldn’t help it. When she was around him, he became nervous because if she could read his mind, she’d judge him for sure. To Harry, Mia was the epitome of grace. He obviously didn’t know all that much about her yet, but she carried herself innocently and it was one of the things that attracted him.

She was almost childish in a way, but in a cute way. Like she just looked at the world with rose-coloured glasses and she saw Harry that way too. And no one had seen Harry engulfed by pink ever.

So he thought about her a lot. About the shape of her body, her scent, the way her skin felt when he leaned in and kissed the high of her cheek. The way she blushed and looked at him with round eyes afterwards, her mouth in a little ‘o’ in pure shock. But he also thought about how much he liked talking to her, how the conversation never ended, how she smiled at his jokes and how considerate she had been when he opened up about Edward.

It wasn’t an easy topic for Harry. His friends knew since they had visited him at home over the summer and had physically met his parents and Edward, but he just didn’t really talk about it all that much. Mia would probably have some psychological theory about that, Harry thought.

So this night had a lot riding on it. It was really their first time hanging out like this, besides from last week when he sort of saved her from that guy at the bar. Then they talked at home on the couch but it was still a little reserved. Now it was a date and they had called it a date. And both of them knew that a date meant romantic feelings.

Which they both already had for the other, but they were both too shy to admit it. Mia because she had never felt this before, and Harry because he now realised he also had never felt this before. He had felt attraction, sure. But not like this. And it made him nervous, how quickly Mia had made him swoon and how quickly she turned him weak in the knees.

Mia put on her long coat and flipped her hair out of the neckline, letting it cascade down her back before also grabbing a beanie to warm her a little. She smiled softly upon realising the shade of it matched Harry’s quite well, and he seemingly noticed it too as he chuckled and then stepped aside to let her out of the apartment.

They descended the stairs together and Mia fixed her beanie a little upon stepping outside, the cold air greeting them as darkness already had taken over. Mia shuddered slightly at the change of temperature and Harry bundled up his coat a little thicker, “It’s not very far, where we’re going. Are you okay to walk or is it too cold?”

Mia shook her head, keeping the chattering of her teeth under control, “It’s not too cold, walking is fine.”

Harry smiled and then nudged his head in the direction they started walking in as Mia buried her hands in the pockets of her coat, “So where exactly are you taking me?”

Harry turned his head and shot her a half-smile, “Are you hungry?”

Mia nibbled her lip, deciding for the first time today to listen to her body. On days where she was nervous, she usually couldn’t eat much. Her body just didn’t feel like it, but the growl in her stomach made even Harry’s brows shoot up, “I’m taking that as a yes.”

Mia blushed and nodded, “Yes, I’m quite hungry. Are we having dinner?”

“Yes.” Harry nodded with a bashful smile, “There’s this Italian place not too far, I’ve been there like once with my folks when they visited me and it’s really nice. Do you like Italian?” The conversation started flowing as Mia eagerly nodded, “I love Italian!” She exclaimed.

Harry chuckled at her enthusiasm and nodded, “Good, I made the right pick.”

“You sure did.” Mia smiled back, a loud chatter of her teeth making Harry frown a little, “Mia, you’re shivering.”

“I’m okay, really.” She brushed it off.

Harry brought one hand out of his pocket and gently reached for her, not quite touching her yet. Mia saw the gesture and blushed a little, unsure of what he was trying to do. Harry smiled at her panicked reaction and exhaled a chuckle, “Can I hold your hand?”

“Can you – oh. Y-Yes. Of course. Yes.” Mia stuttered much to Harry’s amusement. She slipped her hand from her pocket and he took it in his, warmth immediately engulfing her as his large palm covered her smaller one. Mia was mesmerised from the tingly touch as she felt Harry rearranging their hands until her arm was linked with his, and he brought their entwined hands into his pocket.

She couldn’t help the bright smile from forming on her lips as the position immediately made sure she was flush to his side. They matched their step and even Harry had a tiny blush on his cheeks. Their fingers were laced together in the pocket of his coat, nice and warm and gentle as he stroked his thumb over the back of her hand.

Mia had trouble breathing, feeling like she was floating on little pink clouds instead of walking in the puddles that littered the sidewalks of London while they made their way to the Italian restaurant Harry had booked them a table at.

He was a dream, Mia decided. And not just a wet dream like she had experiencing in the past few days, but a dreamy dream. One that made her just sigh and rest her chin in her palm with her eyelids fluttering shut and her lips in an easy smile as stardust filled her brain.

“Thank you.” She murmured and he gave her a gentle squeeze, “No problem, love.”

Mia felt butterflies zapping up her spine, making her dizzy. If she was lying in bed right now, she’d be rolling around with cheeks that hurt from smiling and her feet kicking as she hardly knew how to deal with these feelings. She had laid like that more than once in the course of the last week while on a call with Harry.

They chattered a little more about the rain and their classes that day before Harry made them stop in front of a tiny little Italian restaurant. Mia eyed the place with wondrous eyes, the warmth greeting her along with the scent of fresh marinara sauce once Harry opened the door for her.

It had like six tables and soft music played as the lights danced from the shaky candles on each table.

Harry spoke to the waiter who then guided them to a table in the far back. Mia took off her coat and hung it up on a hook on the wall before flipping her hair over her shoulder and taking her seat. Harry shifted in his chair opposite her, their knees bumping together softly before Mia crossed her legs over one another with a small smile.

“Thank you so much for bringing me here.” She spoke to Harry as her eyes darted around the interior, “This place is so cosy.”

“Do you like it?” He asked and she nodded immediately, “I love it. Truly. I –“ She cut herself off with a sigh and a nibble of her lip, “I’ve never been on a date before.” She admitted.

Where she thought Harry would give her a confused frown, or where she thought his brows would raise in surprise, he didn’t show anything on his face besides warmth and understanding. His hand easily found hers across the table, like they were drawn together after that touch outside and the handholding for warmth.

It felt natural now to hold her hand, Harry decided, and he never wanted to let go. Her palm was small and soft and he could feel a small scar above her second knuckle. He couldn’t wait to ask her how she got it, he couldn’t wait to get to know every little detail about Mia.

“Well, they don’t know what they’re missing out on.” Harry softly spoke, “And I feel very lucky that I’m sitting here with you for your first date.”

Mia blushed and stared at their fingers toying together. It was electrifying and addictive. She cleared her throat, “Have you gone on a lot of dates?”

“Not a lot.” Harry shrugged, “A few. Like maybe three. But never here.”

Mia wasn’t sure why that piece of information made her smile a little wider. She felt special. Treasured. Harry had never brought anyone else here, yet he brought her. A place he liked and had been before with his parents.

Harry licked his lips, lowering his eyes for a moment. Mia admired the way he looked, his hair a little flattened from wearing the beanie but after running his fingers through it a few times, it was pushed back from his forehead again as usual. Dark, chestnut waves that framed him perfectly. Green, soft eyes, pink lips, a slight stubble on his chin and once more that little scar on his nose where she wanted to ask if he used to have a nose ring.

She noticed the way his thumb stroked over her pointer finger a little quicker the longer they stayed silent.

Just as she opened her mouth, Harry opened his, “I spoke to professor Dillon today.” He spoke, words leaving his mouth faster than Mia was used to from him. Harry was a slow talker, something she had learned to admire during the therapy sessions. His speech was calculated and he often searched for his words with a gaze somewhere far away, but it’s how Mia felt like he was really putting thought into the question she had asked.

Mia tilted her head to the side, “Really?”

Harry nodded, “Mhm. Told him I wanted another therapist.” He smiled softly and Mia returned it, nodding her head. It was for the best. She didn’t feel too good anymore being Harry’s therapist and getting to know him like that. She wanted to know him as herself and see him on her own time, not because it was mandatory.

“A-And did you tell him why?” She followed-up. Harry leaned over the table a little with a dreamy smirk on his lips, “I did. Told him I started to like my current therapist a little bit too much and it wouldn’t be all that ethical.”

Mia blushed and giggled out a small laugh before biting her lip, “I think I did receive an email from him around six.”

“You haven’t read it?”

“No.” Mia breathed, “I – uh, Hazel made me promise that I wouldn’t check my emails anymore on a Friday night.

“Why’s that?”

Mia licked her lips and opened her mouth, only to be interrupted by the waiter who briefly handed them their menus and went over tonight’s specials. Mia hardly heard him, if she was honest, her eyes were already anxiously dancing over the words in front of her. She immediately felt a pop of panic as she had trouble reading them quickly, the Italian words even more difficult.

“Hm?” Harry brought her back to their original topic and Mia lifted her gaze, “Oh – uh, well, I just often got caught up doing school work on a Friday night when I went through my emails. Like I just always felt the immediate need to do something. And according to Hazel, it’s a crime to work for school on a Friday.” Mia chuckled softly.

Harry smiled and let out a laugh, a sound that made Mia grin, her body erupting in tingles when he laughed at her little joke. Mia liked it when Harry smiled, or laughed. It made his dimple more apparent and the crinkles around his eyes deepened. Also – it was a weird thing to think, Mia thought – but she felt like Harry had cute teeth.

They weren’t perfect, but nothing about him was. Yet that made him all the more attractive to her. She had said it before and she’d say it again. She had grown up around perfection and had always learned to be so. She had always heard that imperfections were something to hide, that she had to strive for perfection.

She’d had lengthy talks about it with Hazel. Now that Mia thought about it, Hazel truly was somehow her therapist. Hazel had always called out Mia for being a perfectionist. But after only a few days of living together, Hazel quickly realised that Mia really couldn’t help it.

And the more Mia thought of it, the more she tried to find imperfections in people. She liked finding them and felt like it made them more human. She admired it about others. Somehow hoping she’d be able to accept her own.

“She sounds like a good friend.” Harry remarked and Mia smiled, nodding, “The best. She’s so nice.”

“That’s nice.” Harry returned her smile before dragging his eyes back down the menu, “Have you decided what you want yet?”

Mia’s smile faltered as she attempted to read the words, but the more she tried, the harder it became. Her hands trembled softly as she drew a breath, “Just the margarita pizza, I think. You?”

Harry flicked his eyes up, “Really? D’you not want anything different? They have quite rare stuff on this menu. This tonnarelli looks amazing.”

Mia didn’t respond and Harry glanced up to see her again, “Mia? Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” She breathed, putting down the menu with a sigh as she anxiously bit her lip, “Would… would you mind reading the menu out to me?”

Harry blinked at her a few times as Mia held her breath. He eventually nodded, “Sure. Okay, so there’s ricotta ravioli with butter and sage. Tagliatelle with porcini mushrooms, garlic and parsley. Then there’s the seafood risotto – which sounds great, to be honest.” He mumbled, “Tonnarelli with colatura di alici and tomatoes. Colatura is like a fish sauce, made from anchovies. It’s really great.”

He bit his lip with a concentrated frown on his face, “Then there’s pappardelle with ragu. There’s some salads,” He lifted his eyes, “d’you want a salad, Mia?”

Mia blinked before softly shaking her head and Harry hummed, diverting his attention back to the menu, “There’s eggplant parmesan, grilled squid with mussels and prawns, lamb with anchovies, rosemary and potatoes. Roasted pig with grapes and white wine. And tagliata with rosemary and balsamic vinegar.” Harry closed the menu.

“Thank you.” Mia whispered after a silent moment. She couldn’t believe it. Harry hadn’t even asked her why she needed the menu read out. He hadn’t questioned her or made her feel weird about it, he just went with it. After contemplating for a brief second, she felt like he earned it even more to know this bit of information about her. One of her imperfections.

She knew some of his. His relation with his parents and his brother, the whole library incident, the fact that he blew his first year. He knew she struggled with school and that her parents controlled most of her life.

“I’m dyslexic.” Mia murmured. Harry stared at her for a bit, “You are?”

Mia nodded, “Yeah. It’s obviously something I can work around and I don’t want to blame everything on it, but it is one of the reasons I struggle with the course materials a little.” She explained. Harry immediately nodded, “Yeah, of course.”

“So, that’s why I asked you to read the menu.” She blushed a little and Harry tilted his head to the side with a small smirk, “Really? I thought y’just liked the sound of my voice, Mia.”

It was her turn to throw her head back in a laugh and Harry smiled as she laughed freely. He felt privileged to know this piece of information about her. It wasn’t something she actively tried to hide, it seemed, but it also wasn’t something she was overly proud of.

It made more sense now, though. The typo’s in her texts or emails, her needing extra credit to get through her subjects, her excessive studying. Her perfectionism.

“So, what’s it gonna be?”

Mia puckered her lips in thought, “Either the seafood risotto, the tagliata or the tagliatelle.”

“You’ve narrowed it down to three?” Harry teased and Mia giggled, “I have. Which one would you pick?”

“I was set on the tonnarelli but that seafood risotto… I think my pick has been made. So how about you take either of the other two and we can share?”

Mia’s face lit up, “Which one do you like more? The tagliata or the tagliatelle?”

“I like both.” Harry chuckled, “’M not a picky eater, you can choose.”

“Maybe the tagliata?”

Harry hummed, “Great pick, love. Any drink preferences? D’you want to share some wine?”

“Wine?” Mia raised her brows, “Oh. I don’t know, I’ve never had it.”

“You can try it if you want. Maybe just a glass? And if you don’t like it or don’t want it anymore, I’ll finish it.”

“You’ll have two glasses of wine?” Mia questioned in surprise and Harry nodded, “Sure. I won’t be drunk from two glasses, Mia. Promise. I’ll still be a perfect gentleman.”

Mia gazed at him for a second, “I mean… I’ve always wanted to try it. Hazel says it tastes good.”

“Yeah, you can choose. I’d take some water with it too, to hydrate. But red wine tastes great with Italian.” Harry shrugged.

“Okay.” Mia breathed, “Which one should we pick?”

It was Harry’s turn to pucker his lips, and he hadn’t given Mia an answer yet by the time the waiter came for their order. Mia ordered the tagliata and Harry the seafood risotto and the waiter nodded while writing down.

“Then maybe a bottle of sparkling water?” Harry checked with Mia and she nodded as he continued, “And then, uh – two glasses of your Sangiovese wine.”

“The 2020 or the 2017, sir?”

I raised my brows at Harry who seemed deep in thought, “The 2017, please. Has it got some Merlot in it, too?”

“Yes.” The waiter nodded and Harry hummed, “Very good, thank you.” And then we handed back our menus. I chuckled under my breath, “Wow. Do you know a lot about wine?”

“Not at all.” He snickered, “Just said some words and hoped it’d sound fancy.”

Mia giggled bashfully, “It did, convinced me.”

Soon enough, the waiter returned for Harry to taste the wine and give it his opinion. Mia watched with intense eyes as the small bit in his elegant glass got sloshed around, the wine dancing around the side of the glass and dripping down in streaks as Harry inspected it carefully.

He had his eyes on hers as he took a tiny sip, and Mia felt her insides trembling at the eye contact. Harry puckered his lips as he inhaled a little breath with the wine in his mouth to let it breathe. He swallowed it in little sips, both me and the waiter waiting for his verdict.

I knew he was faking and teasing, and I brought my fingers to my mouth to hide my little smile.

“Delicious.” Harry smiled at the waiter, who seemingly nodded in relief. He poured the both of them a glass and Mia curiously lifted it up. It felt heavy in her hand, and she felt like she looked sophisticated with the fancy glass resting casually between her fingers.

“Cheers.” Harry softly smiled, holding up his glass. Mia grinned back while ticking them together, “Thank you again for bringing me here, Harry. This is amazing.”

He felt warm at her genuine compliment, and nodded in agreement, “It really is. ‘M glad you like it.”

They both took a sip of their wine, Mia careful and tiny, while Harry was already a little more used to the taste and drank more confidently. Mia tried to mimic the way Harry had tasted the wine so professionally earlier, copying his movements without him realising.

She liked the taste, having expected it to taste like it smelled. And it did.

“So is it finally my turn to ask you questions?” Mia asked. Harry shot her a grin, “What do you mean?” He teased, “You’ve been asking me questions for four sessions, Mia.”

She giggled and shook her head, “Not like that. Not about… the library. Just you.”

“Just me.” Harry nodded, leaning his free hand over the table again to meet Mia’s halfway, which was somehow already waiting for him in the same spot as before. Their fingers found each other easily and Harry felt completely giddy, “Just me and just you.”

Mia’s cheeks hurt from smiling as she hid slightly behind her glass of wine and nodded.

“What d’you want to know? Choose carefully, the first one is a big one.” He playfully teased and Mia bit down her lip, “Did you used to have a nose piercing?”

Harry’s smile grew until it turned into a full laugh, his shoulders shaking as he chuckled, “Is that really your first question?”

“Yes.” Mia laughed, “I’m curious. I’ve seen the little scar on your nose.” She pointed to her nostril and Harry shook his head with a smile before taking a breath, “I did. When I was sixteen, I had like a hoop in my nose. I took it out when starting college, only had it for a few years.”

“Why’d you take it out?” Mia questioned, studying his face. Harry shot her a playful smile, “Why do you ask, sweetheart? Would you have liked me even more?”

He subtly dropped her dazed confession from a few days ago and Mia blushed while taking another small sip of wine and then alternating with some cold water. The nickname made her shudder even if Harry said it so casually. She’d remember that forever, the way the word sweetheart sounded, falling from his lips. She could already tell it’d be another reason for her to wake up sweaty and with sticky thighs.

Harry chuckled and gently squeezed her fingers, “I took it out because when enrolling in uni, they kind of gave me a hard time about it. Our school’s quite conservative, Mia. Don’t know if you’ve noticed.” He sounded a little sarcastic.

Mia didn’t say anything and Harry continued, “I mean, they’re making students do forced therapy… I know it’s your field and all, but I think it’s weird. You can’t give mandatory therapy because people won’t pay for whatever they broke or whatever damage they inflicted. It’s like bribery.”

Mia casted her eyes down, her finger mindlessly tracing over the ring around Harry’s middle finger. She hadn’t even really noticed they’d been holding hands this entire time and it felt so normal. “I understand what you’re saying. I-I’m only doing it for the extra credit.” Mia started near defending herself and Harry quickly frowned, “Mia, ‘m not accusing you of anything. I know you’re just executing a system that you probably don’t really stand behind.”

She pressed her lips together and nodded, “I-I’ve thought about what we spoke about last week. About me maybe wanting to do something different.”

Harry’s face lit up, “Y’did? What’s that mean, hm? Have I taken you to the philosophy-side?”

“Not quite.” Mia snickered before drawing a breath, “I was thinking about sociology or… anthropology maybe.”

Harry smiled and raised his brows, “Really?”

Mia blushed softly and nodded, “Yeah. Seems interesting, if I’m honest. It’s not about the individual, but on groups of people and their dynamic. It… uh – it requires me to talk less.” Mia admitted, “I think I’d like that.”

“To be fair, I think you’re quite a good therapist. Already.”

Mia smiled, “Thank you. But I still don’t think it’s really for me. Like you said, I don’t really believe in it, and it’s hard to be passionate about something I don’t believe in.”

“Sociology leans a lot more into philosophy.” Harry smirked in triumph, gently tapping his fingertip against Mia’s knuckle. She smiled, “It does. ‘S a bit more of everything. Anthropology, biology, psychology and philosophy. And less epistemology, which is great.”

Harry groaned out, “Shit, yeah, epistemology. The worst.”

Mia giggled and Harry looked at her, “So how’re you going to do it? Finish your year? Or just your semester?”

“It’s mostly just an idea for now.” Mia backed down a little, “I’m not sure how my parents would take that. And if I’d be a-allowed to.”

“Allowed to? Do you still think they’d try and push you into a field you don’t want to be in?”

Mia cast her eyes down, “I don’t know.”

“You could try and talk to them about it?”

“Yeah,” She shrugged, “maybe. I might finish my year, try and get my grades up and take my credits into next year. I’m sure I could skip a few subjects that overlap with what I do now.”

What Mia really meant to say was that she’d try and finish her year, hoping that maybe her feelings towards psychology changed and she’d suddenly find her passion so as to avoid a very nerve-wracking conversation with her parents where they’d just repeat how disappointed they were in her.

Harry somehow sensed this, leaning over the table a little more, “They sound… uh – a little bit controlling.” He carefully voiced his concerns. Mia offered him a brief, tight smile and exhaled through her nose, “I-I think they just want the best for me.”

Harry sensed that she sort of closed off around the topic and decided that now wasn’t the time or place to get into it. So he just nodded, “Perhaps.”

They fell silent for a second and each took another sip of their wine before Harry cleared his throat, “Do you want to talk about your dyslexia?”

Mia lifted her eyes right before swallowing, and licked the excess taste of wine off her red-stained bottom lip – which made Harry moan internally as he watched her carefully. “Sure.” She responded, “You can ask me about it, if you want. I don’t mind talking about it.” It was partly the truth. Mia had just never really spoken about it much in general.

“So… is it just reading you have some trouble with?”

Their hands were still joined together, Harry rubbing soothing circles into her palm as Mia traced her finger over the rim of her glass of wine, “Reading and also writing. And just… processing information in general. I don’t know, it’s a little hard to tell because I’m so used to it and I don’t know any other way. Words just… flow together a little and it’s not as easy to read one word like in full. It’s like I have to break it down and it takes me three times as long to get through a sentence.” She tried to explain.

Harry listened intently as Mia continued, “So when I’m taking notes in class, I really just scribble stuff down and rely a lot on what I hear. Which is why I don’t like skipping classes. Going through the presentation afterwards just takes me so much longer because I have to read it all. And then after taking notes during class, I have to re-write them once I get home because…” She blushed a little bit in shame, “t-there’s a lot of mistakes in how I write. I have to filter them out and write the words down properly.”

Harry felt for her, seeing the way she got slightly embarrassed about it and he didn’t have to think long before knowing why that was. Her parents. He shifted in his seat a little, “That sounds like a lot of extra work.”

“It is.” Mia nodded before exhaling a chuckle, “Hazel often thinks that what I do in my room is actively studying, but I’m usually just redoing my notes or reading through bits of the classes that I missed throughout the day because the professor went too quickly.”

“And does the school know? I’m sure they’d be set on helping you if you explained it to them.” Harry offered and Mia cast her eyes down before shaking her head, “No, they don’t.”

Harry blinked, realising that this meant that she’d take regular exams like everyone else. Students with dyslexia were allowed to take their exams in separate rooms where it was calmer and less crowded. The exams were printed on larger paper with larger letters and some questions were swapped out so they’d have to read and write less. Also, they got scored less on grammar and little vocabulary mistakes.

Harry was sure Mia also knew this, and he continued to glance at her as she nibbled on her lip again, “They did know when I was in high school. I think that’s why I experienced that so differently and never struggled a lot with any materials. I passed with flying colours and somehow that made me think I was really smart or that I was this great student. But now…”

“You really can’t compare uni to high school, Mia.” Harry coaxed, “It’s completely different in a lot of ways. But I think I agree when you say that maybe it was different because they knew of you being dyslexic. I-I think you should tell now, as well. They can help you a little. And it’s not making it easier or anything, they’re mechanisms to support you. Right now, you’re doing like… three times as much as anyone else. You’re taking these tutoring classes, you’re doing this therapy stuff and you’re going through your notes at least twice just to re-write them. No one’s got the time for that.” He softly spoke.

Mia didn’t say anything, a little baffled by how Harry stood up for her even when she didn’t for herself. Her insides felt warm and even though this was nowhere near funny, she had to force herself to keep her smile down. Harry let out a short breath, “Sorry.”

She shook her head quickly, “No, no. Don’t apologise. It’s definitely something I’ll think about.”

Harry flicked his eyes up to see the genuine look in Mia’s eyes and he knew she wasn’t just saying it to coax him, but she had truly listened and found herself agreeing.

The food came moments later, with their hands breaking apart and the plates standing in front of them. Mia found herself peaking into Harry’s plate, who immediately noticed. He let out a chuckle, “How about we each eat half and then swap?”

She nibbled her lip, “We can do that?”

“Sure.” He shrugged like it was the most normal thing in the world. Mia couldn’t even imagine, swapping plates in a restaurant just like that. Her parents would call it impolite and rude, but she was here with Harry and she was having the most fun she’d had in a very long time. She smiled and nodded, “Okay. Wait for me, though. I eat a little slower.”

Harry found himself wishing his chair was right next to hers so he could pull her into his side and have her rub her nose into his neck, “Of course.” He smiled. He just felt so floaty around her, and somehow it was the best feeling in the world.

They started their food, Harry checking Mia’s face when she took the first bite. Her eyes closed and she exhaled through her nose while her shoulders dropped. The sight made him grin and he scooped some risotto on his fork, “Is it good?”

“It’s so good.” She hummed, “This meat is so soft.”

Harry found a joke there, something about other meat definitely not being soft, but he kept it down. Part of him suspected that to not be Mia’s humour and he certainly didn’t want her to choke on her food in surprise of his dirty mouth.

Harry ate more, stopping after a few minutes to shrug off his flannel and then roll up the sleeves a little of the long sleeved shirt he wore underneath. Mia’s eyes darted to the exposed skin and Harry noticed, slightly smirking at the way she so blatantly checked him out.

“D’you like my tattoos?” He asked. Mia blushed and her eyes widened, stopping mid-chew as she realised Harry caught her. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and nodded shyly, “I do. They suit you really well. I-I’ve never seen someone with that many tattoos.”

“Oh, I’ve got loads more.” Harry smiled, “All over my chest and even some on my legs. I’ve got a huge butterfly on my stomach.”

Mia’s eyes widened more, “No way.”

“Yes.” Harry chuckled and Mia straightened up, “That’s – wow. Do you have a picture?”

Harry narrowed his eyes with a small smile, “I definitely do, but I think I want to wait to show you until you’re ready to see in real life.”

Heat flushed over Mia’s chest and up to her neck as she stared at him, realising what he said. Even just the thought of a shirtless Harry was enough to get her heart hammering violently in her throat and the butterflies to go insane.

Butterflies. She gathered herself, “Why’d you get a butterfly in that spot?”

Harry smiled to himself, “You know, when people talk about liking someone a lot – or being in love – they mention butterflies in their tummy?”

Mia couldn’t breathe. She simply nodded and Harry took amusement in her flustered state, taking it a little further, “Well, that’s why I got it. Representing the butterflies.”

“S-So,” Mia stuttered out, “you felt the butterflies? W-When you got the tattoo?”

Harry shook his head, “No. I wanted to, but I didn’t. So I got it tattooed, if that makes sense? I don’t know.” He took a sharp breath, somehow having to man up to say the next part as all his confidence in the world just faltered when turning so vulnerable, “I do know I never felt them before. Until now, with you.”

Mia stopped breathing altogether. She had admitted in a blurt last week that she liked him. And that was a lot and she had thought about that moment and damned herself as there was no way to save her from that. But Harry just admitted that he felt butterflies in his stomach while being around her. For the first time ever.

The other people he went on dates with, no butterflies. The people he had kissed, no butterflies. The people he had slept with – including the girl in the library -, no butterflies.

Harry’s heart was drumming hard, seizing up Mia’s reaction. This was too much, he thought. He had been too blunt, had scared her away, had fucked it all up. Right as he was about to open his mouth and take the entire thing back in an attempt to save their evening – probably wrapping it up quickly so he could go home and wallow in self-pity – , Mia took a breath.

“Me too.” She squeaked out, gathering all her courage to respond and voice her reciprocation of his feelings of affection.

Harry’s eyes rounded as he gazed at her, a small little smile tugging on his lips, “Yeah?”

Mia bit her lip to fight her smile and nodded, “Mhm.”

“Fuck.” Harry mumbled with a wide grin, shaking his head to himself. Mia found herself smiling wider when she noticed the blush on his neck, crawling up to his jaws and cheeks. She giggled under her breath, “You’re blushing.”

“Stop.” Harry laughed, his leg bobbing underneath the table as he tried to contain whatever he was feeling. Unfamiliar, this giddiness. He hadn’t experienced it and he wasn’t sure where all the energy in his body came from. Well – he did. It was caused by Mia, but he couldn’t understand how one person could make him feel this way with so little words.

She liked him. She really liked him, felt the butterflies that he felt. They liked each other, and Harry would go as far to admit that he was very quickly falling hard for her. If he hadn’t yet.

Images of Mia in a white wedding dress flashed through his brain, images of her with a round belly, images of them on vacation where they’d enjoy food and wine and each other. It was one date and he somehow could see an entire future and he needed to calm. down.

Harry caught his breath, willing away his pink cheeks – which only she could pull from him – as he dared lifting his eyes. The look in Mia’s face nearly made him fall off the chair. She softly glanced at him, holding her chin in her hand, elbow on the table. It seemed like her food was long forgotten, a soft look in her eyes, a dreamy look. Her eyes were a little closed, her lips up in the tiniest little smile and he swore he could hear her purring.

He couldn’t look away, completely lost in pale blue eyes that he was quickly drowning in. He held onto the last little bit of composure he had before he’d blurt out that he fucking loved her on their first date.

“Swap?” He suggested with a dry throat. Mia seemingly snapped out of her daydream, straightening up with a soft pink on her cheeks as she bit her lip and smiled to herself, “Swap.”

She smiled as they clumsily changed plates and cutlery, and she tried not to think of how weirdly intimate it was that she was eating the risotto with the fork that had been in Harry’s mouth before as he took a bite of the meat. He moaned a little more than she had when he took that first bite, clearly a little excessive to get them out of their intense staring mood they had been in for the past few minutes.

Mia didn’t mind the more playful vibe Harry pulled them into again, and soon enough they were lost in another conversation about philosophy. Harry no longer teased her for studying psychology, he sensed it was a sensitive subject and they’d had enough of that already tonight. So they continued discussing lighter stuff, little philosophy debates which Mia knew surprisingly much about.

They spoke about Harry’s first year in uni, with Mia asking him to recall the moment he first met his four best friends. It was a question he’d never received before, but he liked it. He went over the memories he had with Niall, Zayn, Louis and Liam and Mia smiled and laughed as he recalled some embarrassing or funny moments with the four idiots he called his besties.

Mia also asked him about Sarah, and her heart melted into a puddle when Harry explained that he often walked Sarah home after their classes when Mitch couldn’t make it. Sarah had been harassed on campus a few times and he and Mitch had an agreement that they’d never let her walk home by herself.

It’s why she showed up at room two after their session when Mia had seen them. Harry was quick to tell her that there had never been anything romantic between him and Sarah, that she was one of his mates’ girlfriends who he got along with.

It was endearing though, Mia felt, how protective Harry felt. Not only of her, but over women in general. He walked Sarah home when it got a little late and it was dark, he had saved Mia from Tyler at the bar as well.

Mia swooned over his whole saviour complex which she had learned a lot about. Many women hated it, but she secretly loved it for some reason. Maybe because she had never really felt protected before.

They finished their food while talking, Harry excessively scraping up every scrap of sauce left while Mia took the spoon through the risotto to not leave anything behind. They both decided they loved this restaurant, and immediately made plans to return here someday.

Mia could picture it, them celebrating their anniversaries here. She was going crazy, she felt. Harry would certainly run for the hills if he knew she was somehow planning their entire future in her mind.

The restaurant had run empty by the time the waiter handed them the dessert menu. And even though Mia was full, she agreed on sharing some red velvet cake – which was a chef’s speciality apparently. It wasn’t very Italian, Harry noticed, but he didn’t mind.

The wine was gone, and Mia had to admit that she didn’t feel any different. It was pleasant, knowing she could maybe enjoy a slow glass of wine without having to fear losing her composure or feeling dizzy. They drank their water until the waiter came back with their tea and the piece of cake.

It stood in the middle of them, both holding onto a spoon as they tried to split it in half. Harry laughed when Mia reached for the biggest part jokingly until granting it to Harry. They had a little discussion about it until Mia convinced him she truly wasn’t hungry anymore and he could have the biggest part.

Harry nibbled his lip as he took a small scoop of the cake and then held up his spoon. Mia understood what he meant and leaned over the table, softly parting her lips as Harry fed her the little bit of cake. It had to look stupid, she knew that. From onlookers, they had to be cringey and disgusting, but she loved it. Her fingertips numbed when he intently stared at the way the spoon disappeared between her lips, his fingers gripping the table cloth out of the corner of her eye.

The tension was driving Harry absolutely crazy, but he suspected that Mia didn’t do any of it on purpose. She didn’t realise how sexy she really was. They ate the cake – which had been a great choice – and finished their tea around midnight.

“Mia, come on.” Harry laughed, fighting her over the bill. She had her finger around it but Harry’s hand pried it away from her, “I’m paying, seriously.”

She sighed in defeat, “Fine, but I’m paying next time.”

The sentiment made Harry’s heart flutter and he nodded immediately, “Okay, love. You can pay next time.”

He got up and went over to the cash register to pay for their dinner as Mia put on her coat. They hadn’t really agreed that the night was ending, but somehow they both started walking in the direction of her apartment complex, hands once more entwined in Harry’s coat pocket like they had done it all their lives.

Mia felt warm, matching their steps and feeling a little more comfortable with leaning into his side a bit. The streets felt empty and it was cold, their breaths clouding in front of them as they softly talked a little more.

Stopping at her front door, Mia pulled out her key and looked at Harry over her shoulder, “D’you – uh, do you want to come up?”

He smiled and instantly nodded, “Yeah. Promised Hazel I’d get you home safe, didn’t I? That means up to your door, if I’m not mistaken.” He playfully joked and Mia bit her lip, nodding, “I think so too.”

They were silent in the hallways so as to not wake any other tenants at this hour in the night, walking up to the second floor until Mia laid eyes on the closed door of her apartment.

“This is the door.” Harry sighed as they stood in front of it. Mia nodded, “This is the door.”

She held her key but didn’t make any moves to open it up, and Harry nibbled his lip, “So – uh… I had a great time tonight.”

Mia turned to face him, taking her hand up to her hair to slip off the beanie and tuck it into the pocket of her coat. She nodded at him with a smile, “Me too, Harry. Really. Thank you so much for taking me out.”

“’S my pleasure, love.” He chuckled out, daring to take a step closer to her. His eyes darted over her features, seeing how her eyes flicked between his and how breaths tumbled from her parted lips a tad quicker at the proximity.

She leaned against the doorpost of the closed door, Harry in front of her, “Have you ever been kissed before?” He asked.

Mia swallowed through her dry throat, inhaling the perfume she had been faintly smelling all evening. She softly shook her head, “No.” With the admittance of her being a virgin in every sense of the word, she wondered if it’d turn Harry off. He was obviously more experienced than her and she somehow thought he’d already figured out she was very inexperienced, but still.

But his reaction amazed her once more. He simply nodded, no shock or surprise or confusion written on his face. He shuffled a little closer again, “C-Can I please kiss you?”

Mia held her breath, her hands in tight fists next to her as Harry stood close, towering over her in the hallway of her apartment building. The automatic lights flicked off, leaving them in darkness. Only the small window at the end of the hall made some light pop in from the streets below. It illuminated part of Harry’s face, who stared at hers intently.

“You can say no.” He added in a whisper, “It’s okay if you say no.”

Mia remembered the talk about consent she had with Hazel and swallowed thickly again. She had dreamed of Harry’s lips on hers, yet the word was somehow stuck in her throat. It was stupid, it was just a kiss. Mia wasn’t sure why she made such a big deal out of it.

“What’s it feel like?” She asked in a murmur. She could faintly see the side of Harry’s lip tug up in a small smile as he took his hands out of the pockets of his coat. The movement made the hallway light turn on again, suddenly showing the entirety of Harry again.

He didn’t pay attention to it, gently lifting his hands until he reached her face. His fingers played with some free strands of her hair until he took it upon himself to brush the locks behind her shoulders. He seized up her reaction with each little movement he made, but Mia was just widely staring into his eyes as he leaned in.

Fingers on her jaw, cupping her cheeks, Harry leaned in to press a kiss to her cheekbone. They had done this before, and Mia puffed out a soft breath as she felt like she could sink through her knees at any moment.

“Like this.” Harry whispered, “But then on your lips.”

He repeated the action, kissing a little more towards her nose this time. Mia’s eyes fluttered close as he did it again, up to her brow bone and then her forehead until moving over to the other cheek. Her breaths came out puffy and shaky when she leaned into him. Her fingers had subconsciously gripped the fabric of his flannel and Harry pressed a tiny kiss to her nose, “Hm?”

Mia’s brain was swirling with lights and fireworks and she nodded with his hands around her, “Y-Yes. Please.”

“Please, what?” He whispered, needing her to say it. It was stupid, but he needed her to say it. Knowing she was about to ask him so politely to kiss her, would haunt his dreams for life and it was selfish, but he needed it.

Mia swallowed again, her throat so dry she felt woozy, “Please, k-kiss me.”

Harry exhaled and dipped his head, closing his eyes when kissing her. Their lips pressed together and Mia closed her eyes as well, tightening her grip on his clothing and pulling him closer to her at the same time. Harry happily obliged, shuffling closer until he was flush against her, legs between one another.

The lights turned off again as their lips were joined, and Harry pulled back when he felt like he was about to pass out. He only pulled back an inch, not enough to set off the lighting in the hallway. Their noses brushed together and he continued to leave little pecks on Mia’s parted lips.

“How’s that for a first kiss?” He whispered against her lips. Mia exhaled a trembling breath and Harry smiled when he felt it against his mouth. Her eyes fluttered open again, the darkness concealing her wildly blushing cheeks as she still tasted him on her lips, “R-Really good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.” She squeaked out, “Can – Can you kiss me again?”

“Gladly.” Harry murmured before repeating the action, a little more confidently this time. His body was on fire. He kissed her again, eyes closed, hearts open, his fingers cradling her closer to him. Their noses bumped together and Mia sighed out, leaning back and letting him guide her through it entirely.

She loved kissing, Mia decided. Or maybe she only loved kissing Harry, she wasn’t sure. Mia had never been drunk before, but she felt drunk on him. Mesmerised, completely lost. He was soft, his lips were like little pillows pressed to hers. It was everything she could’ve dreamed of and Mia wanted more.

She pushed herself up on her toes a little, attempting to match his height more. The lights turned on again but they both had their eyes closed, ignoring it completely. Harry used his hands to tilt her head a little more, fitting his form better for easier access.

He pulled back and immediately kissed her again, moving his head to the other side. His entire body trembled when Mia exhaled the softest whimper against his lips. He couldn’t stop it, the gentle parting of his lips and the way he swooped his tongue over her lower lip.

Mia froze and the breath hitched in her throat when she felt it, and she grew nervous all over again.

Pulling back, she felt him breathing against her lips. Her eyes stayed closed as Harry pressed another little kiss to her top lip, “Sorry.” He whispered, having felt how she tensed up a little at his attempt to deepen their kiss. But he was so addicted and he wanted so much. This slow pace felt savoury but also it felt like torture.

“Sorry.” He repeated in a sigh, “Just wanted to taste you a little more, ‘m sorry.”

His three apologies made Mia frown and she quickly shook her head when he felt his fingers around her cheeks loosening. She didn’t want him to let her go, if anything – she wished they could stay like this for a very long time. Her lips felt tingly and warm and she shook her head, “No, don’t apologise, please. I just – uh…” She took a breath, “I don’t know what to do. W-When you do that.”

Harry breathed out, his eyes still closed and Mia stared at his lids. The lights turned off again and with the tilt of Harry’s head that he did to brush his nose up against hers, it flicked on again. He opened his eyes with a small smile, “That’s okay. You can let me take the lead, you don’t have to do anything.”

Mia’s heart hammered in her chest, knowing they were about to make out. She wanted to, but she was so nervous. They stared into each other’s eyes again until the lights turned off and Harry breathed out a chuckle, “Maybe we should go inside?”

Mia froze up, inhaling sharply, “I don’t want to sleep with you.”

“I know.” Harry whispered, “I know.” The lights turned on again, “Not what I was trying to do, Mia, I promise. That’s totally alright.”

She felt more at ease again at his comforting words, and his quick agreement just showed how much he cared and how sex really wasn’t the only thing on his mind right now. Harry had to admit it was some on his mind with how close they were standing and how they had been kissing for a few minutes, but he just wanted to make her feel safe and comfortable.

“These lights are just annoying me a little.” He chuckled quietly and Mia mimicked his smile, nodding while he still had his hands around her cheeks, “Okay.”

“You sure? ‘M not inviting myself in to try and sleep with you.” He repeated, wanting her to really know. Mia immediately nodded, “No, I know. I know.” She pushed herself up into him, bumping her nose into his and Harry’s eyes closed at the feeling. He couldn’t stop himself before leaning in and gently pressing a little kiss to her lips, “Okay.” He murmured.

“Okay.” Mia smiled back.

#one direction #writerscommunity #fanfiction #writing #writers on tumblr #hs au #harry styles au #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles wattpad #alisonfelix #harry styles #1dff #one direction fanfiction

38 notes · View notes