#completely obsessed with jojo moyes and her books
Text
venice for one
pairing : harry styles x reader
summary : after getting broken up with and struggling with your own insecurities, you make the split-second decision to take a solo trip to venice. you expect the week to be a fun-filled adventure, but when you accidentally have a run-in with a famous popstar, things don’t go quite as you expect them to.
word count : 9.5k
warning : smut, 18+
“you don’t ever do something just because it makes you feel good?”
paris for one by jojo moyes
The moment you step off the train and onto the platform, you feel a sudden urge to turn back around, toss your bags back on the bench you had been seated on, and make the same exact trip you had just taken again, only backwards this time.
Instead, you force your feet to take one step after another, your suitcase dragging noisily behind you against the concrete platform as you lug your tote bag higher up on your shoulder. In your hand is a note scribbled with the name of the bed and breakfast you booked yourself into, and directions written neatly with bullet points, but as you enter the city of Venice, Italy, you know finding the place you’re looking for is going to be much harder than you had first thought.
The city, as gorgeous as it is, is a slightly confusing maze of sidewalks and canals, and there’s people everywhere. The anxiety you had managed to push away when you got off the train is slowly returning as you look at your directions and attempt to find your way.
This trip had been a split-second decision, one made by your irrationally, heartbroken brain only a few hours after your boyfriend had dumped you. The breakup had come as a surprise to you, especially after many of your friends had brought up the idea of marriage after several years together, but your now ex-boyfriend had thought otherwise.
“You’re not the girl I fell in love with,” he had claimed in an uproar as he threw a suitcase together, “you’re not the fun, outgoing person I used to know.”
You had tried arguing against his claims, but it had done no good, and in the end, he had walked out with nothing more than a promise to come back to what had been your shared apartment to get the rest of his stuff over the next few days. When you called your friends to tell them what happened they had done their best to fill your head with encouraging words and stories about how you were still a fun person to be around, but the longer you thought about it, the more you realized your ex was right.
You weren’t the same person he had fallen in love with, and you hadn’t been that person in a long time. In some ways that was okay. You had fallen in love young and where you grew up, he still acted like the immature college student you had met years ago. He partied constantly, going out with friends at all hours of the night, and you honestly don’t remember the last time the two of you hung out somewhere other than the bar down the street. Nice restaurants had never been his thing, and in wanting to make him happy, you had never opted for anything but what he suggested.
You knew he wasn’t happy anymore, and neither were you. You were getting older and concerning yourself with your job and what your future looked like, not when the next time you could go for a cocktail hour was. You had settled into a routine for yourself, one that required no more effort than you needed, and in having that, your now ex-boyfriend decided you were a prude.
After a while, though, you wondered how much of what he had said to you was true. You don’t remember being much of a party girl when you were younger, but you definitely had your moments, and you definitely hadn’t had one of those moments in a long time. You knew if asked what word could describe you the best, adventurous or outgoing wouldn’t be the first word, or second or third to pop into anyone’s head, but maybe you wanted to be those things.
Maybe you wanted a stranger on the street to look at you and wonder what kind of adventures you had been on because just by looking at you, they can tell you know how to have a good time. Maybe you wanted to be that pretty girl in the room, the one that nobody could take their eyes off of.
Five hours after your relationship had ended, you decided you didn’t need your ex, but you did need a change of pace.
You were going to take a trip to Italy by yourself. You hadn’t told anybody, not even your friends, and had only left a brief voicemail to your workplace calling out sick for the rest of the week and no other explanation. It had taken you an hour to book all the tickets needed for travel and to find a place to stay that would take you with such little notice, but in practically no time at all, and with two haphazardly packed bags, you had been on your way to Italy for what you hoped would be a fun adventurous few days.
So far, the idea of a fun filled week had completely escaped your mind and your first day in Italy had started out with a drag.
You had yet to find the Bed & Breakfast you had booked yourself into, and with a sore shoulder from carrying your bag and your hand growing increasingly sweaty as you gripped onto your suitcase, you were beginning to think about what your best bet would be on getting home.
Not a single person you had managed to stop speaks English, and even after you show them the name of the place scribbled at the top of your sheet in Italian, nobody is seemingly able to help you. Venice is not the biggest city, and you remember briefly reading about how it is possible to walk the entire city in the matter of an hour. With a glance at the watch on your wrist, you’re ready to turn around and make your way back to the train station in the hopes of catching a ride back.
That’s when you spot it: the barely-there sign with a name on it that matches the one on your paper.
Vera Ospitalità.
It’s a cute little blue building, looking exactly like it did when you were Googling places to stay in Venice. It hadn’t cost very much, and the lady had sounded sweet over the phone when you asked how soon she would have a room open.
“We always have a room open, cara.”
You hadn’t quite understood what she meant at the time, but the sight of those two Italian words fill your body with a jittery joy as you let out a shout, catching the attention of a few people walking past you. You pay them no mind as you pick up the pace, not taking your eyes off the sign until you’re standing in front of the door and pushing it open.
The bell above lets out a delightful jingle as you walk in. You can only imagine what you look like to the lady sitting at the desk as you walk in with sweat dripping down your forehead and a slightly rumpled paper stuffed in your hand, but she offers you a cheerful smile.
“Are you Irene?” you ask, slightly out of breath as you step up to the desk, letting your bag fall from your shoulder. “We talked on the phone yesterday.”
“Yes! Hello, cara,” Irene says, standing from her seat and reaching for the guestbook she keeps under the counter. “I am happy to see you made it. How was your trip?”
You smile, trying not to think about the want to turn back around and head home you felt only minutes ago. “It was good! Happy to finally be here.”
“Oh, yes, yes. Just sign these forms and I will get you your key.” Irene pushes the book your way and you easily sign your name on the dotted line. “There is only one bathroom upstairs, but you get the room directly across from it.”
Your head snaps up from the book. “One bathroom?”
“Yes,” Irene nods, “but it has a tub, and the water runs perfectly. And there is only one other guest staying here this week, so there should be no trouble.”
“There’s only two of us here?”
Irene pauses. “You ask many questions.”
You offer a sheepish smile. “Sorry.”
“There is a young man staying here also, about your age. I only have four rooms and I don’t get many guests.”
You briefly wonder if you should have chosen a slightly more expensive place to stay, but your expectations hadn’t been very high coming in and how bad can it be when there are only two of you staying?
Irene hands over your key, directing you up the stairs to where your room waits for you. “Breakfast is served at 7 if you would like some, otherwise I have a list of places around the city you can visit.”
You give Irene one last thank you before you’re heading up the stairs, your suitcase and bag in hand. Your room is immediately at the top to your right, with the door across from yours labeled bagno with a cute little wooden sign. There are two more rooms a little further down the hall, and then one at the very end with the door open enough for you to glance inside.
There’s music playing – something you’ve heard on the radio a million times before but can’t remember the name of – and you can make out the silhouette of someone sitting at a small desk next to a window. With the way the setting sun is shining through, you can’t make out any of the figure’s features, but you know that this is the man Irene mentioned downstairs.
You wave a hand. “Hi.”
You can see him turn his head, but can’t make out any features still, nor an expression, as he stands and shuts the door without a second thought.
You frown, deciding not to dwell on it as you unlock your room and step inside. It’s small, and you know your friends would try and make it sound better by calling it quaint, but you decide that it’s not any more or any less than you need for the week. There’s a small desk and dresser off to the side, and a twin size bed with a side table sitting next to the headboard. The sight of the small, but very neat room is comforting after the mix of emotions you’d spent your afternoon with, and you find yourself wanting to just fall against the comforter and end your day there.
So, you do, quickly changing into your sleep clothes and doing your nightly routine, you let all the anxiety and the interaction with the man down the hall fall from your mind as you slip under the covers and rest your head against the pillow. It’s early, but you figure you’ve had enough adventure for the day. Plus, you still have the next few days left to spend in the city.
Sleep comes easy to you, so easy that you’re shocked awake the next morning at the sound of loud footsteps coming down the hall, and then a slam of a door. Lifting up from your bed, you glance at the clock on the table next to you and let out a small groan. You hadn’t been planning on taking up Irene’s offer of breakfast at 7, but now that you were awake you figured you might as well do exactly that. The grumble your stomach lets out seems to further settle the idea to get ready and go downstairs into your head.
The banging across the hall continues, and you know the sound belongs to the man from down the hall. Not wanting another interaction like the day before you decide to wait for the sound of the door opening and steps retreating down the hall, knowing the man has returned to his own room before you head into the bathroom with your things to get ready. You throw on a simple outfit for the day, doing all your daily necessities. The smell of cologne fills the small space, and normally it would be something that would irritate you – someone else treating a space as only their own with no other thought of anyone else who might occupy it – but the scent is pleasant enough and you decide to leave it be. When you’re done, you listen again for the sound of footsteps, but there are none.
Opening the door, you peak down the hall. The door at the end is shut, but you still cross the space to your room quicker than normal, opening the door and slipping inside. Just as you grab your shoes and anything else you plan to use throughout the day, your phone finding its spot in your pocket, you hear a door open again. You listen quietly as the man moves down the hall to the stairs, only slipping into the hallway when you know you won’t run into him. He’s already disappeared into the front room when you yourself reach the stairs and start the trek down.
When you reach the bottom floor, Irene stands just across the room in what you realize is the dining area. There’s a jingling as the front door opens, and you look over just in time to see a head of dark brown hair escaping through the entrance.
There’s something odd about you and this stranger avoiding each other, but you don’t let it cloud your thoughts. You don’t even know the man, and don’t have any care to get to know him.
Irene spots you lingering by the stairs and waves you over. “Have you met the other guest yet?”
You smile as you walk over to sit at the table situated in the room. The space isn’t very large, only big enough to hold the essentials of a kitchen and a table that seats six, but the feel of it all is very intimate. It also smells terrific, the smell of sausage and pastries filling the room. You’re suddenly grateful that you chose this place over any of the others, weird neighbors be damned.
“He’s nice, is he not?”
You purse your lips as Irene places a plate loaded to the brim with various breakfast items. The sight makes your stomach grumble again and you laugh in an attempt to conceal it. “I haven’t exactly met him yet.”
Irene frowns. “You haven’t?” She tsks. “He’s very friendly, but he never eats breakfast here.”
“Never?” You glance up from your plate. “How long has he been here?”
“Only few days, but he comes once a year and stays here rather than big fancy hotel.”
You nod, taking a bite of the croissant on your plate. You close your eyes giving a small hum of pleasure at the taste of the buttery pastry. “He’s missing out.”
“You’ll meet him soon enough, I think.” Irene waves her hand around as she takes her own seat, carefully digging into her own plate of food.
You continue breakfast with polite conversation. Irene asks why you decided to come to Italy, and you fib your answer a little, explaining it was just a need to get away for a bit. It wasn’t entirely inaccurate, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to reopen the fresh wound that was your current relationship status.
When you’re done, you bid Irene farewell for the day and head out on your own. The sun is warm as it beams down on your face, the air slightly cool from the canals. You plan to just walk around the city for most of the day, not having much else to do until the afternoon when the gallery you had opted to go to opens.
For a few hours you simply meander around the city, stepping into shops with clothes that cost far too much money, but you try them on anyway. You find a nice place for lunch, deciding you’ll come back to try something else for dinner after the gallery. The day all goes fairly quick, but you head back to Vera Ospitalità with a grin permanently etched into your features.
Irene is not at the front desk when you walk in. It’s getting fairly late in the day and after the large and filling meal you had chosen to eat for dinner, you decide that you’ll end your day with a nice bath and then head to bed, excited for the boat ride you had booked for the next day.
That plan is immediately foiled when you climb the stairs and hear the shower already running. You don’t have any idea how long it’s been occupied, but you figure he has to be done sometime soon and choose to wait in your room until he is.
Fifteen minutes pass before you realize it, and the shower is still going. It occurs to you that all of the hot water must be gone now and you feel a bit frustrated at your thought of a nice night being ruined by a man who doesn’t know how to shower quickly. Trying not to let your frustration get the best of you, you snatch up your towel and storm out of your room to stand in front of the door across from you. There’s some steam coming from the crack between the door and the floor, but you ignore it as you knock on the door.
There’s a noise that sounds something like a grunt, and then the shower shuts off. You listen to shuffling, a rumple of clothes, and then the door swings open and there, for the first time since you arrived in the tiny hotel, you finally come face to face with the stranger who’s been living down the hall from your room. It suddenly hits you why he had been so eager to avoid you the day before and ;told you that he must’ve been trying to avoid you this morning too, obviously trying not to make his presence known.
Harry Styles stands in front of you in a pair of loose shorts with a towel hanging from his hand, his hair dripping down onto his forehead. His tattoos are on full display, the pair of ferns peaking up from his waistband, and his skin is glistening from all the water he hadn’t been given the chance to properly wipe off. Steam pours out through the doorway and the sudden heat of it sends a shiver down your spine.
You don’t realize you’re staring until your eyes meet his and he cocks a brow. “You’re not going to be a creep and ask me for a photo, are you?”
His tone is dangerous, and he’s got an accusatory look plastered on his face. It makes something in you want to snap back, that anger from not being able to take a bath like you wanted still lingering a bit, but instead you stand there, trying to think of the best words to say back to the man in front of you who clearly thinks you’re here for something other than a nice vacation. Every possible thing you had wanted to say before the door had opened has suddenly disappeared from your brain, only to be replaced with the slight shock of your current situation. Your mouth opens and snaps closed one time, then again, as the words you want to say struggle to fall from your mouth.
Eventually, you hold up your towel.
Harry’s head tilts to the side, his gaze curious. “So, you’re not just renting the crappiest hotel in the entire city in order to get some sort of insider photos?”
You frown, the shakiness you had felt disappearing as you think about Irene and her hospitality. “It’s not a crappy hotel.”
Harry smiles, but you’re sure it’s just because he’s amused and not because you’re doing a nice thing by defending Irene. “No, but it sure isn’t popular and nobody ever comes here. I’m always by myself when I come – Irene makes sure of it.”
You remember what Irene had told your over the phone when you asked about booking.
We always have a room open.
You purse your lips and try holding your head a little higher. “I’m not some crazed fan. I’m just here for a nice vacation.”
Harry looks you over. “Nice vacation? You don’t seem like the type.”
“It…” You stumble over what to say, trying to get a grip on the current situation you’re in with a half-naked famous popstar standing in front of you. He leans against the doorway, an arm propped against his head, and you swallow. “It was spontaneous.”
Harry chuckles, shaking his head. “You still don’t seem like the type.”
“You don’t know me,” you manage to say, feeling slightly offended by his words, but Harry just grins.
“And I don’t care to.” He claps his hands together, the sound muffled by the towel still gripped in his hand. “Pleasantries aside, I’d appreciate if you didn’t interrupt my shower next time, and also if you continued to not take photos of me whatsoever.”
You open your mouth to reply, but Harry has already pushed himself off the doorway and is marching down the hall before you can even think of what to say back to him. He doesn’t even bother turning back to look at you, just walks into the room and slams the door shut.
You wince at the sound, trying to still get a grip at what just occurred. You step into the still hot bathroom with its steamed-up mirror and slightly wet floor, but you disregard it as you move to the tub. You turn the handle for the hot water and aren’t surprised to find that it’s ice cold. You let it run for a minute, trying to see if it’ll warm up even the slightest, but you give up and shut it off when it remains cold.
You realize that not only had Harry left you with no hot water to take a shower in, but he also hadn’t bothered to ask for your name. When your head hits the pillow minutes later, choosing just to settle in for the night, you let the exhaustion of the day wash over you and fall asleep easily, though the irritation with Harry settles in well into the early morning.
Your alarm goes off early after a couple of hours, waking you up well before you know Harry will be awake. You quickly gather up your clothes and head to the bathroom, turning on the shower and hopping in before another second passes.
You take your time getting ready, lingering under the hot water for as long as you can before getting out and slowly going over each of your tasks in your morning ritual. You’re in the middle of finishing up your hair when there’s a knock on the door.
“Yes?” you call out, already knowing it couldn’t be anybody but your neighbor down the hall.
“It’s Harry,” he says, muffled through the door. It occurs to you that he never actually told you his name the night before, but you know he’s assumed you already knew who he was before. He wouldn’t be entirely wrong in that assumption. “Are you almost done?”
You grin at the turn of events. “Almost.”
It’s another ten minutes before you’re done. You had expected Harry to have turned around and headed back to his own room to wait, something you would have done if you had been in his place, but when you open the door he’s standing there across the hall, leaning against the wall next to your own room. It takes you by surprise, seeing him standing there. He’s already dressed for the day, a nice, knitted shirt on with brown shorts to match and checkered vans decorating his feet. The only thing out of place is his hair, still a mess of curls from where he hadn’t had the chance to comb them down yet.
You offer a smile as you step out of the bathroom. “All yours.”
Harry has a sour expression on his face as you pass by to get into your room. You don’t bother giving him any more attention than that, though, not keen on him accusing you of anything else.
At 7 you head downstairs. Irene is already settled into the kitchen with a plate full of food waiting for you. She smiles when she spots you. “Sleep well?”
You nod. “Finally met Harry.”
“Oh, Harry!” Irene claps her hands together. “Isn’t he so lovely?”
You hum in response. “Lovely,” you try to hide the sarcasm in your voice, “that is definitely the word I would use.”
Irene’s eyes flicker behind you, and she brightens at the sight of Harry coming down the stairs. “There he is! Harry, come have breakfast.”
Harry appears, hair now perfectly in place, walking around the table to greet Irene with a hello and a kiss to her cheek. “Can’t, love. Have places to be.”
“Oh, stay for a bit. It’s too early to have anywhere important to be. Talk with us,” Irene urges, gesturing to you already seated at the table.
You give an exaggerated nod. “Yeah, talk to us, Harry.”
Harry forces a smile onto his face. “Only for a bit, yeah?”
Your frown is immediate as Harry takes the seat across from you. You had remembered what Irene had said the day before, about Harry never joining her for breakfast, and that had led you to expect him to decline Irene’s offer and head out for the day, but now you were stuck with him sitting there in front of you.
“What are the plans for today?” Irene asks, seemingly unaware of the tension at the table.
Harry gives her a genuine smile as he steals a roll from the plate she had placed in the middle of the table and takes a bite. “Goin’ to wander the city a bit, might take a nice boat ride.”
“I’m doing a boat ride too,” you chime in. The look Harry throws you is something similar to a glare, but you just smile, knowing you managed to get under his skin already this morning before he had even tried to touch yours.
The rest of the conversation is tense, with Irene staying blissfully unaware to the dirty looks you and Harry throw at each other. A part of you wonders how you can act like this with a complete stranger, but when you accidentally kick his shin under the table, and Harry returns a swift kick of his own, the thought is completely overshadowed by the irritation you feel when you look at him.
When Harry finishes his roll a few minutes later, he delivers a quick peck to Irene’s cheek and heads out, offering no goodbye to you. When he’s gone, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding and stand from your chair.
“Thank you for breakfast, Irene.” You make to move for the stairs, planning to take a little time to yourself before your planned boat ride later, but Irene stops you.
“He is better once you get used to him,” she tells you.
Your nose crinkles at that, wondering how much she actually had caught on to when it came to you and Harry. “I just think he doesn’t like me very much.”
She waves her hand. “He did not like me very much at first either, but he warms up in time.”
With a final nod, you head upstairs. The hours pass quickly as you find random things to do – playing games on your phone, reading a book. You had briefly wondered about calling your friends back home, curious if they had thought about you since you had last spoke to them, but you eventually decide against it when it’s time to head out for your boat ride.
The air is warm when you step outside, and the place where you’re supposed to go is only just down the block. There’s a delightful breeze that blows through your hair as you walk down the sidewalk, admiring the city as it moves through its daily ventures. You reach the dock you need to go to much easier than you had the Bed & Breakfast, but your stomach immediately drops as soon as you step on the pier.
Harry is standing with who you assume is the skipper of the boat you’ll be on. He has an impatient look on his face and his arms are crossed as he taps his foot against the wooden planks. When he spots you walking down the pier, a look of realization crosses his features.
“You’re going on a boat ride?” he asks, his brows raised above the rim of his sunglasses. “This boat ride?”
You look at the skipper and give a not-so-confident nod.
“Ah! You’re the girl who booked me so late the other day!” he announces almost proudly, and you offer an apologetic smile, choosing to ignore a clearly frustrated Harry.
“I’m so sorry about all that, it was so last minute—”
“Do not worry, darling. It seems to be my fault.” He gestures between you and Harry. “I seem to have made the mistake and made a double booking on accident. Either the two of you may ride the boat together and I’ll give half off, or one of you can leave and I’ll give full refund. I am booked full rest of day.”
You can feel Harry glaring at you through his glasses. “I’m not giving this up,” you tell him, feeling your own irritation grow at the sight of his.
“Well, neither am I.”
The skipper glances between the two of you before giving a delightful shout. “Two of you it will be! Let’s get going.”
You and Harry give the same exasperated look to the skipper, but he’s already climbing on the small speed boat, waving for you to follow.
Harry looks to you. “Ladies first.”
You don’t bother with a thank you as you climb onto the boat, Harry not far behind, and find a seat on the small bench available. With no other place to sit, Harry is forced to sit next to you on the bench clearly fit to hold two people intimately. Neither of you say anything as the skipper starts the engine and pulls away from the pier and into the lagoon you were meant to be traveling.
For a moment, you regret not just walking away and letting Harry have the boat ride to himself. You can’t imagine being able to enjoy it when he won’t even look at you even though his shoulder and thigh are flush against your own as you both attempt to fit on the bench. You still want to make the most of it, so you turn to look at Harry, deciding to attempt to show some of the same hospitality you had been experiencing so much of in Italy
“Do people really stay in the same hotels as you to get photos?”
“What?” His sunglasses have fallen slightly down his nose, and his eyes are visible just over the rim.
You swallow down any frustrating feelings you might have against Harry right now. “Last night, you accused me of being in the B&B so I could get a photo of you—”
“Sorry about that,” Harry mumbles out, pushing his glasses back in place. “Shouldn’t have come at you so quick.”
You can tell that some of the tension has left his body and that makes you feel a bit better about being stuck with him now. “Do people really do that, though?”
You wish he had taken the glasses off now, just so you could see the expression hidden behind them. You can’t tell what he’s thinking with his eyes hidden behind the dark rims.
“I’ve been doing this for over ten years,” he finally says, “I’ve had people break into my home, fans have snuck into my tour bus, and I’ve been chased down the street. You checking into the same place I am staying, a place that is normally empty year-round, and trying to snap a cheeky photo would not surprise me in the slightest.”
You suck in a breath. “I’m not going to do that.”
“I see that now.” Harry smiles as he stands up and leans against the boat, looking out over the water. You look over the design on the back of his shirt, the image of a horse clearly visible. “Sorry for using up all the hot water last night.”
Your eyes flit to the skipper standing at the wheel, but he pays neither of you any attention as he hums to himself. “It’s okay.”
“Also sorry for not asking for your name since you clearly already know mine.” He looks back over his shoulder at you. “So, what is it?”
“What?”
A smile. “Your name, love.”
“Oh.” You give up your name, falling from your lips as you remember the bit of hurt you felt the night before upon realizing he hadn’t asked for it then. It had been a strange feeling, wanting a complete stranger to know your name. especially when you and said stranger hadn’t gotten on so well, but now that he had asked for it you felt a sense of accomplishment.
Harry repeats it, his accent lilting something sweet. “S’a lovely name.”
He’s still looking at you when you say nothing, and it leaves you with a strange feeling. You try to think of what to say next, and when it comes to you, you almost laugh.
You hold out your hand. “Truce?”
The smile Harry gives you takes up the entirety of his face, dimples proudly displayed on his cheeks. He takes your hand in his own, his palm warm in yours. “Truce,” he confirms.
A comfortable silence falls between the two of you for the rest of the ride, only interrupted by the sounds of the boat on the water and the skipper’s humming. Even with all your misadventures, you couldn’t deny that the city of Venice was gorgeous. And in some way, everything had seemed to work out for you so far, even creating something that resembled the beginnings of a friendship with Harry after a rough start.
When the boat pulls up to the pier, you realize that you feel more comfortable around Harry. No longer does he intimidate you like he had when you first laid eyes on him, but rather you feel easier with him, like you’re able to strike a conversation with him with no worries at all.
So, you do try to talk to him as you step off the boat, but he apparently had the same thought and the two of you laugh as you talk over each other.
“You first,” you tell him, biting your lip to hide your smile.
“I, uh,” Harry stutters over his words as he removes his glasses, looking up and down the pier to keep his eyes on something other than you. “I was just going to ask if you had eaten lunch already.”
“I think it’s well past lunch time.” You look down at the watch adorning your wrist. “But no, I only ate breakfast.”
Harry’s eyes flash to you, and the green of them is startling under the sunlight. “Would you like to go for a late lunch?”
You much prefer this friendly Harry to the one you had first been introduced to, and you understand that there’s a garner of trust between the two of you now. “I’d love to.”
Harry leads you down the pier and back onto the concrete sidewalks around Venice. It’s settling well into the afternoon, the sun beginning to drift just below the tops of the buildings around the city. You don’t bother asking where you’re heading off to, trusting that Harry will have a great choice in wherever you go.
Eventually, after walking a few blocks, still basking in that comfortable silence from the boat, Harry stops at a door with a sign overhead that you don’t understand. He opens the door and waves you in.
The moment you step inside, you’re hit with the smell of pasta and bread hitting your nose. You breathe it in deep and the hostess at the front smiles as she watches you do so.
“First time?” she asks, her accent thick.
You nod, jumping a little when Harry appears next to you and places his hand on your arm.
“This is one of my favorite places,” he tells you, gesturing with two fingers to the hostess. “They have the best spaghetti.”
The place isn’t as packed as you would expect it to be, most likely because of your arrival between lunch and dinner, but there’s still enough people for it to feel a bit crowded. The hostess walks you over to a booth in the corner, a bit hidden away from the other patrons in the restaurant, and you know it’s because of who you’re with.
The popstar in question sits across from you but doesn’t bother grabbing a menu for himself. “Wine okay with you?”
You nod and wait for the waitress to come over. When she does, offering up her name in a sweet lilting accent, Harry orders the wine and you give a thankful nod as she walks away before turning back to Harry. “So, the spaghetti?”
Harry lets out a low moan. “It’s the best. I come here every time I visit. Practically a regular when I’m in Italy.”
“It’s that good?”
“Better than good.”
You leave your menu resting in front of you, untouched until the waitress returns with a jug of wine and two glasses. She hands one off to each of you before topping them off with the jug.
“Your usual, Mr. Styles?”
The question sends Harry beaming. “Please. And she’ll have the same,” he gestures to you, and you give a soft confirmation.
Once the waitress has left, Harry takes a long sip of his wine before clapping his hands together. “So, what brings you to Italy?”
This Harry sitting in front of you is much different than the one you had met face to face for the first time the night before. There’s something softer about him, as if the edge was taken off the moment he put his hand in yours earlier. You like this Harry more, you think, with his giddy smile and soft giggle.
You remember how you had lied to Irene when she had asked you why you had traveled to Italy, but something tells you not to do that with Harry. “My boyfriend dumped me.”
Harry’s face drops, an apology on the tip of his tongue, but you wave a hand in front of you before he can get it out.
“I’m already over it, but there were some things he said that made me rethink a lot of stuff.”
“Like what?” His gaze is curious, and it makes you want to tell him everything going on in your brain, how you’re still upset and hurt, but want to feel free while you still have the time to here in Italy.
Instead, you sugarcoat it a little. “Just stuff about how he missed the girl I used to be – more fun and care-free.”
“Are you not that girl?”
You shrug, your hand playing with the stem of your wine glass before you lift it to take a sip. “I don’t know, but I liked the sound of being adventurous and doing something unexpected so—”
“So, you booked a trip to Italy?” Harry grins. “That’s quite impressive.”
“What is?”
“Deciding to just up and go to a different country for no other reason than you want to. I think you’re a bit more outgoing than your boyfriend gives you credit for.”
You scrunch up your nose. “Ex-boyfriend.”
Harry smiles into his glass. “Right. Ex-boyfriend.”
Your food arrives not long after that, two giant plates of spaghetti with pieces of garlic bread on the side. Harry laughs at your surprised expression at the sight of the amount of food now sitting in front of you.
“You didn’t tell me we were going to feed an army.”
Harry picks up his fork, stabbing it into the noodles and twisting it around. “Try it.”
You follow his lead, picking up your own fork. When you take a bite of the pasta, you shut your eyes as the taste coats your mouth. “Oh my god.”
“I told you.”
The two of you eat practically in silence, savoring the taste of your meal and not letting the flow of conversation interrupt your eating. Neither of you finish your plate, Harry coming much closer to doing so then you are and you’re left trying to finish the still half full jug of wine in the middle of the table.
You don’t know when you start feeling like telling Harry more about yourself, maybe after your third glass of wine, but eventually you’re telling him all about the fear you had of coming to Italy.
“What do you mean you almost didn’t come here?”
You giggle a little. “I stepped off the train and almost turned right back around to get on.”
“Why?”
You give an exaggerated shrug. “My own brain? I don’t know.” You look down at your glass of wine. “Sometimes I feel like everyone’s opinions of me are right, y’know? Maybe I am that girl that just doesn’t do anything except work and go home.”
“I get that feeling.”
Your eyes shoot up to look at Harry. “You do?”
Harry gives a lazy raise of his shoulders. “Of course. I have reporters and paparazzi up my ass at practically all hours of the day. Sometimes I wish I could scream at them that I’m not everything they think I am, nor do I want to be.”
You let out a snicker and Harry raises an eyebrow. “Sorry. I almost forgot I was sitting with a famous popstar.”
Harry groans, but there’s a playful look on his face as he wags a finger at you. “That’s cheeky.”
You decide to keep going, seeing how far you can push it. “My friends are going to love it when I tell them that I got to hang out with the Harry Styles. I’m pretty sure one of them used to have a poster of you in their bedroom.”
“Is that so?”
“Mhm. Another had the cardboard cutout.”
That sends Harry into a fit of giggles, causing you to follow his lead. You both are a little too tipsy by this point, and the jug is nearly finished.
It doesn’t occur to you how long you had been inside the restaurant until you walk outside and see that the sky has turned dark. The blocks are lit by streetlights, and under them Harry looks like something out of a dream. You don’t mean to lean into him as you walk back to the B&B, but you do so in order to try and keep your balance and Harry doesn’t seem to mind with the way he tosses his arm around your shoulders lazily.
“Tonight was fun,” he tells you, trying not to walk faster than you do. The position is hard to keep as you walk, but neither of you pull away. “’S been a while since I’ve done something with someone like this.”
You smile at his admission. “You mean you don’t go out somewhere with a complete stranger at least once a week?” You tsk. “You’ve gotta get out more, Mr. Styles.”
The B&B is quiet when you arrive back, and you feel like a teenager again as you sneak past the front desk and up the stairs, trying your best to keep quiet since you both know Irene has already gone off to bed. Your exe’s words briefly flit through your brain, and you wonder what he’d say if he saw you now – drunkenly stumbling around in a mysterious city with a man you’ve known barely longer than a day.
When your foot catches on a step, Harry is there behind you to steady you before you can fall forward. His hands catch your hips, helping keep your balance, but rather than it be something that would send your stomach in knots, the gesture makes you laugh out as you think about how funny it would have been to fall face first into the carpeted floor.
You clamp a hand over your mouth, staring behind at Harry who looks like he’s barely keeping himself from laughing. You maneuver your hand so it’s just your index finger pressed against your lips, a soft shhh falling past them. Harry nods, pretending to zip his lips shut and locking them, before throwing the pretend key over his shoulder. The action threatens to send you into another fit of giggles, but you manage to hold it in as you take the rest of the steps two at a time.
The boards creak beneath your feet as you walk to your door. Turning, you just about run into Harry, your hands flying up to press against his chest in an attempt to keep from stumbling into him.
“Sorry,” you stutter out, taking a step back and resting your back against your door. “Wine’s getting to me.”
Harry smiles, and in the barely-there light of the hallway, you think you can see something playful glittering in his eyes. “S’getting to me too.”
You suddenly remember the feel of his hands on your hips moments earlier, and the way he had kept his arm wrapped around you the whole way back. There’s that knot in your stomach that hadn’t appeared before, slowly making itself known now as you try to think of what to say next.
Harry speaks first, his voice low and his words slurred. “I had fun tonight.”
“So you said.”
“How long are you staying?”
The question takes you by surprise. “Tomorrow is my last full day. I leave the next morning.”
Harry looks a bit disappointed by that, but it’s quickly replaced by something else. “Y’know, I think I have a terrific way for you to prove to everyone when you go back that you still know how to have a good time.”
You swallow when Harry takes a step closer, your back pressing further into your door. “And what’s that?”
A smile, one that’s devious and just a little bit convincing, “Let me kiss you?
You bite your lip, trying to get ahold of the situation. This is not at all how you expected your vacation to go, but you can’t help but agree that it is the best way to prove to everyone and yourself that you’re not who they think you are.
You realize that this is it – your moment to prove to yourself that everyone else was wrong. How could you not be adventurous when you’re in a random country all by yourself, about to kiss a boy you’ve never met? That’s the perfect thing to do to prove everyone wrong.
And maybe there’s something in the way that Harry’s advances make you feel that adds to you giving a soft yes.
When Harry kisses you, it’s just as you would have imagined it. And then somehow, it’s more. His lips are soft against your own, the distant taste of strawberry chapstick and the wine from earlier lingering on them and you want to savor that taste, burn the memory of those flavors together into your brain. His hands find your hips again, pressing into them unlike he had earlier. There’s intention behind the grip, the promise of something more to come.
You clumsily reach for the doorknob behind you, not daring to move your lips away from Harry’s. The door falls open and almost takes you with it as you stumble back, barely catching yourself by gripping onto Harry’s shoulders. You press your mouth back to his, feeling like he could swallow you whole in that moment.
You reach blindly for the zipper on his shorts, your hand brushing over the tent forming there and causing Harry to let out a hiss at the friction. You smile against his mouth when he reaches down, taking the matter into his own hands and unzipping his shorts as he kicks off his shoes. You follow his lead and let your shoes meet his own in a pile on the floor. The pile only grows as you both precede to strip, and when you’re left staring at Harry’s naked body, a small gasp falls from your lips.
You reach out to run a hand across the butterfly inked into his stomach before letting it trial down to tease one of the ferns against his hip. You remember them from the night before, half concealed by the shorts he had kept on, but now having them on full display sendsa shudder through you.
“You’re pretty,” you tell him softly, and he laughs.
“So are you,” he replies, taking your face in his hands and kissing you, gently pushing you back onto your bed.
You had almost forgotten about the twin size bed in your room until you fall against it. You want to laugh at the size of it compared to your two bodies collapsing onto it, but Harry rests himself on top of you and attaches his mouth to your neck, sucking a deep mark into your skin.
One hand finds his hair, raking your fingers through it and tearing a groan from Harry’s chest, while the other scrapes at his back, your nails threatening to leave red scratches all over his skin. Harry lingers against your neck for only a moment before he’s trailing down your body, planting kisses against your skin as he goes.
When he reaches your hip, he digs his fingers into your stomach as he leaves a kiss in the curve there before he plants himself between your thighs. The bed is squeaking in protest to all of this movement, but it’s not bad enough for you to want to stop.
Harry kisses at your folds before bringing his fingers up to spread them. Both your hands are tangled in his curls now, tightening their hold as Harry’s tongue finds your clit. You squirm as he presses his mouth against you, coaxing a few moans from you before you remember that you’re not alone in the building.
“Harry,” you gasp out as your hips buck against his mouth, “the bed.”
You don’t think he hears you at first, the squeaking growing louder with each move he makes that causes your hips to come up off the mattress, but then his hands are under your thighs. Slowly, without moving his mouth away from you, Harry slides you off the bed. He meets the floor first, a bit more gracefully than you do as you slip off the bed and onto the floor. Harry laughs when you let out a yelp as your ass hits the carpeted floor.
You’re face to face with him now, and there’s slick covering his mouth. Without thinking, you grab his face and kiss him, letting your own taste wash over your tongue. Harry groans into your mouth, the vibration moving through your chest.
“I wanna taste you,” you tell him, but he shakes his head.
“Swear I won’t be able to hold it in much longer.” He’s breathing heavily and that only makes you smile something wicked that sends Harry’s brain into overload.
“Just a little taste,” you mutter before pushing at his chest so he falls back onto the carpet. You move between his legs like he had only minutes ago, your hand coming up to grip the base of his dick.
Harry lets out a hiss as you wrap your hand around him, giving a slow pump. When you lick the tip, though, he can barely hold back the moan he lets out and you laugh a little.
“Good?” you ask, taking him into your mouth finally and Harry feels like he’s slowly losing the will to function, wondering if he can even get the words out.
“Good, yeah. Yeah. S’good.”
You give him a few more pumps, moaning against him when he brings a hand up to wrap in your hair, but you don’t want him to lose control before he can get inside of you, so you restrain yourself and pull back.
Harry gives you a pitiful look when you pull away, only to be replaced with something much more eager when you begin to climb on top of him. He lays back against the carpet, grabbing your hips as you guide yourself onto his cock.
You both let out a mixture of sounds as you slide down onto him, letting yourself get used to the feel of it. After a minute, you rock back onto him, and Harry takes that as a good sign. Before you know it, he’s lifting his hips off the floor to fuck up into you, turning you into a whining mess as you chase your orgasm. The sound of skin on skin fills the room, and you’re sure that Irene must’ve heard you at this point, but you don’t care anymore as you press your hands down onto Harry’s stomach and try to meet the pace he’s set.
“Gonna cum,” he tells you, but you could already tell with the way his thrusts have become more frantic and sloppier. You can only nod, falling against his chest as you feel the beginnings of your own orgasm start to take over.
When yours hits, you cry out into Harry’s chest. Harry doesn’t stop, though, instead wrapping his arms around you as he chases his own. It only takes a couple more thrusts before he’s pulling out of you and moaning into your hair. You can feel the hot spurts hit your stomach, dripping down onto his due to your position. The two of you stay like that, his arms still wrapped tight around you, holding you to him.
“Harry?” you finally say after a few minutes of you trying to catch your breath. You can feel the effects of the wine from earlier still mixed with the aftermath of your orgasm, and it’s all making your brain feel a bit hazy.
“Yeah?”
You roll off of Harry, the heat of being pressed to him becoming a little too much, but he doesn’t let you go, and you find yourself laying sideways, Harry’s arms still wrapped around you as you lay face to face. “Do you usually fuck random strangers you barely know in Italy?”
Harry lets out a soft giggle, one of his hands beginning to rub at your back. “You’d be the first.”
You reach a hand up to run through his curls, pushing them back off his forehead. “Glad to know I’m not alone there,” you mumble. “So, what do we do now?”
Harry shrugs the best he can in his position on the floor. “We clean up, try to fit in your tiny bed, and figure it out in the morning?”
You hum in response. “I don’t think I can face Irene in the morning.”
“Oh, that woman sleeps like the dead. N’way she heard.”
“Still.”
Harry thinks for a moment. “How about I go downstairs in the morning, grab us some of Irene’s lovely breakfast, and convince her to go out for the day so you can be free of the embarrassment of her hearing us having really amazing vacation sex?”
You roll your eyes. “Then it’ll be obvious what we’re doing.”
“Yes, but I think Irene would appreciate the heads up before she’s wondering why the boards are creaking so badly the whole day.”
You smack your hand against Harry’s chest and a laugh bubbles up from it. “Are you saying you’re going to have me spend my last day in Italy locked away in a bedroom getting my guts rearranged?”
“That’s one way to describe it,” he laughs.
You hum again. “Y’know, I thought I hated you this morning.”
“That was kinda evident by the way you kicked me under the table at breakfast.”
You gasp. “That was an accident!”
“Ah, so you just wanted an excuse to play footsie, huh?”
You hit him again. “An accident, Harry.”
Harry laughs, pulling you further against him. You let out a yawn as you rest your head in the crook of his neck. “We should probably get up. I feel a bit gross.”
You hum in response, tickling Harry’s neck with the vibrations. You hear Harry say your name in an attempt to get your attention, but you’re already drifting off against his chest with the promise of him etched into your brain for when you wake up.
Harry figures he’ll get up in a bit rather than disturb you now, letting himself relax against you. He means to only lay there for a few minutes until he knows he can remove himself from you so he can clean up, but soon enough his eyelids are falling shut as he too drifts off to sleep.
#completely obsessed with jojo moyes and her books#so im happy i had this idea#italy!harry is a fucking babe also#harry#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles imagine#harry styles fic#harry styles au#harry styles oneshot#one direction imagine#my fics#italy!harry
546 notes
·
View notes
Text
My Worst Books of 2021
Now for some of the most fun posts of the year, here are the 5 worst books that I read in 2021 out of 27. Of course I have to put a disclaimer that just because I disliked these books, doesn’t mean that you won’t like or even them. The pieces and ideas that I don’t like could be what you love in a book, so keep an open mind with me. From worst to better, here is my list.
1. Marked by P.C. and Kristin Cast | Goodreads
There are very few words to describe how terribly I feel about this book. It is so deeply engraved in its roots of being published in 2007 in all of the worst ways. The language used in this tries so hard to be apart of the teenage lingo at the time that, despite me being only 6 at the time, I’m sure overshot the mark. The plot could be so interesting but nothing is explained and it moves so quickly that so many details are skipped over and rushed that you can’t enjoy it. I might have enjoyed this in seventh grade when I first got it, but definitely not now.
2. The Wife Upstairs by Rachel Hawkins | Goodreads
This book was... bad for many reasons. I was expecting a crazy unfolding thriller but I got nothing more than bland, slow paced mystery. I mostly disliked the characters though, especially our main ones which made it so hard to read. The only reason I stayed was to see if the author could make up a decent solution, and I didn’t get one. Don’t forget the obsession with being rich and white and the blatant fatphobia.
3. Me Before You (reread) by Jojo Moyes | Goodreads
This was a reread for me that completely missed the original mark for me. Louisa was an insufferable main character, it was crazy that she did not think about anyone except for herself. Especially in a story about someone who is disabled and uses a wheelchair, that’s quite disturbing to read how selfish someone is around them. The banter was kitschy and cute and I enjoyed when Will and Louisa were being healthy towards each other. Other than that, it just seemed like a pity ride for a thirty year old girl who isn’t taking responsibility for anything even slightly negative in her life.
4. The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks by E. Lockhart | Goodreads
I would be lying if I said this book wasn’t fun but it wasn’t... fulfilling. I was expecting big antics around everything that was going on but some of the solutions just fell flat. Especially the ending, I wanted so much more and something more happy! It seemed like a more positive, happy go lucky private school story that seemed like all consequence and no reward. I didn’t hate it by any means, I just wanted more.
5. Stitching Snow by R.C. Lewis | Goodreads
This was just another boring book. I expected more from the retelling but it didn’t live up to the adventure that I wanted from a sci-fi princess fighting against her evil father story. There were so many peaks in the story were it could have taken off and been action and strategy packed plot, but it always fell back to calmness pretty quickly. I will say though that the fighting scenes are so beautifully under control and that the relationship and care that blossoms between Esie and our love interest (who’s name I don’t remember...) is beautiful. Out of all of these books, I’d want you to check this one out first if you want to give them a chance.
#worst books of 2021#marked#p.c. cast#kristin cast#the wife upstairs#rachel hawkins#me before you#jojo moyes#the disreputable history of frankie landau-banks#e. lockhart#stitching snow#r.c. lewis#house of night#goodreads
3 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Books featuring an neuroatypical characher (mainly ASD)
#2020diversityreadingchallenge
The Rosie Project - Don Tilman
An international sensation, this hilarious, feel-good novel is narrated by an oddly charming and socially challenged genetics professor on an unusual quest: to find out if he is capable of true love.
Don Tillman, professor of genetics, has never been on a second date. He is a man who can count all his friends on the fingers of one hand, whose lifelong difficulty with social rituals has convinced him that he is simply not wired for romance. So when an acquaintance informs him that he would make a “wonderful” husband, his first reaction is shock. Yet he must concede to the statistical probability that there is someone for everyone, and he embarks upon The Wife Project. In the orderly, evidence-based manner with which he approaches all things, Don sets out to find the perfect partner. She will be punctual and logical—most definitely not a barmaid, a smoker, a drinker, or a late-arriver.
Yet Rosie Jarman is all these things. She is also beguiling, fiery, intelligent—and on a quest of her own. She is looking for her biological father, a search that a certain DNA expert might be able to help her with. Don’s Wife Project takes a back burner to the Father Project and an unlikely relationship blooms, forcing the scientifically minded geneticist to confront the spontaneous whirlwind that is Rosie—and the realization that love is not always what looks good on paper.
The Rosie Project is a moving and hilarious novel for anyone who has ever tenaciously gone after life or love in the face of overwhelming challenges.
Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine - Gail Honeyman
No one’s ever told Eleanor that life should be better than fine.
Meet Eleanor Oliphant: she struggles with appropriate social skills and tends to say exactly what she’s thinking. Nothing is missing in her carefully timetabled life of avoiding unnecessary human contact, where weekends are punctuated by frozen pizza, vodka, and phone chats with Mummy.
But everything changes when Eleanor meets Raymond, the bumbling and deeply unhygienic IT guy from her office. When she and Raymond together save Sammy, an elderly gentleman who has fallen, the three rescue one another from the lives of isolation that they had been living. Ultimately, it is Raymond’s big heart that will help Eleanor find the way to repair her own profoundly damaged one. If she does, she’ll learn that she, too, is capable of finding friendship—and even love—after all.
Smart, warm, uplifting, Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine is the story of an out-of-the-ordinary heroine whose deadpan weirdness and unconscious wit make for an irresistible journey as she realizes…
the only way to survive is to open your heart.
Lady Midnight - Cassandra Clare
The Shadowhunters of Los Angeles star in the first novel in Cassandra Clare’s newest series, The Dark Artifices, a sequel to the internationally bestselling Mortal Instruments series. Lady Midnight is a Shadowhunters novel.
It’s been five years since the events of City of Heavenly Fire that brought the Shadowhunters to the brink of oblivion. Emma Carstairs is no longer a child in mourning, but a young woman bent on discovering what killed her parents and avenging her losses.
Together with her parabatai Julian Blackthorn, Emma must learn to trust her head and her heart as she investigates a demonic plot that stretches across Los Angeles, from the Sunset Strip to the enchanted sea that pounds the beaches of Santa Monica. If only her heart didn’t lead her in treacherous directions…
Making things even more complicated, Julian’s brother Mark—who was captured by the faeries five years ago—has been returned as a bargaining chip. The faeries are desperate to find out who is murdering their kind—and they need the Shadowhunters’ help to do it. But time works differently in faerie, so Mark has barely aged and doesn’t recognize his family. Can he ever truly return to them? Will the faeries really allow it?
Glitz, glamours, and Shadowhunters abound in this heartrending opening to Cassandra Clare’s Dark Artifices series.
A Boy Made of Blocks - Keith Stuart
A Boy Made of Blocks is a funny, heartwarming story of family and love inspired by the author’s own experiences with his son, the perfect latest obsession for fans of The Rosie Project, David Nicholls and Jojo Moyes.
A father who rediscovers love
Alex loves his wife Jody, but has forgotten how to show it. He loves his son Sam, but doesn’t understand him. He needs a reason to grab his future with both hands.
A son who shows him how to live
Meet eight-year-old Sam: beautiful, surprising - and different. To him the world is a frightening mystery. But as his imagination comes to life, his family will be changed … for good.
M is for Autism - The Students of Limpsfield Grange School
M. That’s what I’d like you to call me please. I’ll tell you why later.
Welcome to M’s world. It’s tipsy-turvy, sweet and sour, and the beast of anxiety lurks outside classrooms ready to pounce. M just wants to be like other teenagers her age who always know what to say and what to do. So why does it feel like she lives on a different plane of existence to everyone else?
Written by the students of Limpsfield Grange, a school for girls with Autism Spectrum Disorder with communication and interaction difficulties, M is for Autism draws on real life experiences to create a heartfelt and humorous novel that captures the highs and lows of being different in a world of normal.
Flowers for Algernon - Daniel Keyes
The story of a mentally disabled man whose experimental quest for intelligence mirrors that of Algernon, an extraordinary lab mouse. In diary entries, Charlie tells how a brain operation increases his IQ and changes his life. As the experimental procedure takes effect, Charlie’s intelligence expands until it surpasses that of the doctors who engineered his metamorphosis. The experiment seems to be a scientific breakthrough of paramount importance–until Algernon begins his sudden, unexpected deterioration. Will the same happen to Charlie?
#2020diversityreadingchallenge#bookslight reading challenge#neuoatypical reads#book recommendations#flowers for algernon#m is for autism#shadowhunters#a boy made of blocks#booklr#autism reads#ASD#eleanor oliphant is completely fine#the rosie project
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
Terminal/Chronically Ill Characters in Literature & Media (A Writer/Survivor’s Perspective)
As someone who has struggled with chronic health issues and has also lost friends and family to variations of the same condition I was born with, characters that are like me and my loved ones, and relationships similar to those I had with the people I’ve lost are something that I naturally gravitate towards and pay particular attention to. However, I find that it’s so rarely done well… so let’s talk about it.
For the structure of this post I’m going to be talking about 4 examples, two bad examples, and why they’re so flawed, and two good examples and what they got right that the others didn’t.
For some reason, writers seem to find it difficult to pull off a (main or important) character with a chronic or terminal illness, especially when that character has some kind of relationship with a character who is either healthy or somehow medically better off.
Usually, what we get are things like Me before You (I apologize right now to anyone who enjoyed that book/movie but I really didn't) or Everything, Everything by Nicola Yoon, (which I liked but I still feel like it was a bad portrayal of what I'm talking about).
Now let me fully explain why these portrayals fail epically.
In Me Before You by Jojo Moyes the character William has been severely and permanently injured and is now wheelchair bound. He also wants to die. Yes, you read that correctly, this character has literally given up to the point where he can’t wait to just end it and there is no amount of effort by those who care about him that can convince him that his life is still worth something. This is problematic for a couple of reasons but firstly because he’s a horrendous example for anyone who either has been injured that way or knows and cares about someone who has. Secondly, he’s a total 100% STATIC character. His outlook doesn’t change in this story, at all. At the beginning he wants to die, and by the end the people around him have given up trying to change his mind. I mean, I get that he’s not really the main protagonist here, Louisa, his caregiver/girlfriend is, but that actually makes it worse! Not only do we have a completely static secondary main character; but we have a defeatist protagonist who literally gives up trying to save the man she supposedly loves. What kind of thematic message was the author trying to send here? I just…can’t get over how messed up this is…
Now, as I said above I personally enjoyed Nicola Yoon’s novel Everything, Everything and its film adaptation. However, I did have issues with it in terms of this topic for several reasons.
1. Bad research. This was largely corrected in the film (or at least glossed over enough that it wasn’t really noticeable) but the Main Character Maddie’s illness, as described in the book, is not SCIDS (Severe Combined Immune Deficiency Syndrome), they tell you she has SCIDS but in terms of what they’re actually describing? It is actually presented as matching an even lesser known disorder called Mass Cell Activation Syndrome. When I first read it I tried to rationalize it as (spoiler alert) being that Maddie’s illness isn’t real and is a figment of her mentally ill mother’s mind, her mom can make up her own rules and boundaries in terms of Maddie’s condition and this was yet another subtle hint at the hidden truth. However, honestly, I don’t think the quality or accuracy of the book lends itself to Yoon pulling that off quite this well if that’s what she was going for; and it’s a shame.
2. She’s not really sick! This goes off of my last point but the fact that she turns out to have been fine this entire time cheapens all the drama and risk that came before that revelation, including her relationship with the novel’s male lead, Ollie. Which is why it’s a terrible portrayal of that kind of relationship, because the barriers and hoops they have to fight their way through to be together just *poof!” disappear. That’s not life! Since Mass Cell Activation Syndrome can appear and/or change at any moment and spontaneous recovery is at least theoretically possible, we really could have had something if Maddie had actually had the condition that was actually described in the book and you know, really had it at some point but then her mom kept it going because she’s incredibly paranoid and not right in the head. Sadly, however, no… that’s not what we got.
This lack of honest and positive representation for people with chronic illnesses, the spectrum of form and severity even a single condition can take, and the relationships between the chronically ill and those with a different health status than them, fortunately, is beginning to improve. Two of the best recent examples of this that I can think of are John Green’s novel The Fault in Our Stars, and the Manga Your Lie in April originally created by Naoshi Arakawa and brought to life on screen by A1 Pictures and the stunning voice talents of both the original Japanese and English dub voice casts.
The Fault in Our Stars by author and YouTuber John Green is a beautiful story about two friends turned lovers who find meaning, support, safety, and even hope in each other when the universe seems to be conspiring to take everything else in life away from them, because well…cancer can do that… I loved reading and watching these two interact and the best part about it is that neither is defined by the hand life has dealt them, it has profoundly affected who they are and how they see themselves and the world, as of course, it would, and it continues to throughout the novel. However, we always see this in the context of who they each are, it never becomes who they are. That balancing act of being honest about what situations like that do to people is what is missing from so many works that attempt this kind of story and this is a great example of when it’s done right. There is, however, one that I feel is even better.
Your Lie in April originally written in manga form by Naoshi Arakawa is easily my one of my favorite series of all time and is probably the best example of chronic illness/relationships. Let me explain why.
Plot Summary
For those of you who haven’t seen/read it, let me give you a ballpark idea. Kousei Arima was once a competitive pianist and child prodigy, trained, brutally, by his abusive and terminally ill mother. Once a great pianist herself, she is now weak, wheelchair-bound, and running out of time, so she brutalizes her only son mentally, emotionally, and physically in her rush to train him to play the music exactly as written, knowing that this will allow him to succeed on the competitive scene and thereby support himself after she’s gone. Soon after his mother dies Kousei suffered a breakdown under the pressure and after that day, gives up music almost entirely until he meets the beautiful and vibrant Kaori Miyazono. Who is a violinist but plays with a freedom and grace that Kousei has never seen before, and it is her constant prodding that brings him back to the stage. Kaori however, has a secret. She has been diagnosed with an unnamed terminal illness that, as the story progresses, gradually robs her of her mobility and coordination and becomes an increasingly prevalent threat to her life.
Kaori is where this story really shines in terms of our topic because her journey with her illness is among the most human and genuine portrayals of a situation anything close to hers, that I’ve ever seen. For a few reasons:
1. Kaori is more than her illness. Again, we see how her illness has affected who she is and how she sees the world and her place and purpose in it, but it is never her defining feature. We also see who she is apart from it, her love of sweets, her upbeat and freewheeling personality, and of course her obsession with music.
2. How she copes: She’s had this illness for most of her life but the gravity of her situation doesn’t really sink in until she’s thirteen or fourteen and catches her parents crying in the hospital waiting room. To quote the Anime: “That’s when I realized I didn’t have much time.” And the moment she realizes this, she hits the ground running, determined to make the absolute most of every minute she has left, so that she can die with as few regrets as possible.
She doesn’t run from her illness, she keeps it from her friends until it becomes obvious for their sake, she fully accepts the reality of her situation and does what she can to make the best of it. This includes wanting to do something good for someone that’s going to matter, in the form of dragging Kousei out of his emotional funk.
That said, she’s not an angel by any means. She doesn’t suffer in silence the entire time, there are moments even before her friends find out that we see the cracks in her façade. We see her cry, and lament, and break down, and towards the end even start to give up. Even then though, unlike in Me Before You she doesn’t give up to the extent that she’s unreachable, all it takes is a kick in the pants (not literally) from Kousei and she renews her will to fight and go on as long as she possibly can. To quote the anime again: “Maybe I’m just greedy, but I want to dream again.”
3. The Ending: In the end of course, Kaori dies, the show takes a no holds barred realistic approach to the situation, there’s no miracle cure, there’s no misdiagnosis, nothing to save our heroes from the inevitable tragedy that will tear them apart. Unfortunately, as I know all too well, such is life. In life sometimes there are no magic answers, no way to save the day, only the harsh reality to swallow. The fact that this series was willing to attest to that, just makes it all the better.
4. Kaori X Kousei: Over the course of the story we see Kaori and the progression of her illness mainly through Kousei’s eyes and the tumult of emotions he goes through in reaction to it is not only realistic but beautifully done. At first, he notices little things here and there, her collapsing after their duet, how thin she is, the more obvious her illness becomes the more apprehension he feels at the possibility of losing yet another person he’s come to know and love. At one point, he even avoids her for a time, unsure of what to say or do, which while not the most admirable reaction, is a totally normal and human one.
Kaori sees him struggling emotionally and laments ever getting involved, wondering out load during one of his visits if it would be better had they never met, and giving him license after her impending death to forget all about her and forget everything they’d shared. By the end though, Kousei decides he could never do it, and chooses instead to cherish Kaori’s memory and let her continue to drive him forward in music and in life.
This last point is very, very important because this a question that everyone has to ask themselves at some point. Was it worth it? Is it better to love and to lose than to have never loved at all? What both positive examples have in common is they answer that question with a resounding YES!.
So what have we learned? We all know that one-dimensional characters are neither interesting nor realistic and should be avoided at all costs. An illness or disability does NOT warrant an exception to that rule. Or the rule about avoiding static or passive characters either. It’s nuts that we seem to somehow think it is.
6 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Feel-Good Fiction for the Holidays...
As we approach Thanksgiving and grapple with gratitude amid much news of suffering and tragedy in the world, it seemed the right time for bolstering our collective spirit with just the right stories. Thus, we offer feel-good fiction, and the best kind… novels that take on complexities of the human condition, but where love, connection and kindness triumph. Taking the lead is WONDER, the book that started the “Choose Kind” movement and whose movie adaptation just opened in theatres nationwide - a box office hit!
WONDER MOVIE TIE-IN EDITION by R. J. Palacio
Now a major motion picture starring Julia Roberts, Owen Wilson and Jacob Tremblay. Over 6 million people have fallen in love with Wonder and Auggie Pullman, the ordinary boy with the extraordinary face, who inspired a movement to “Choose Kind”. This special movie tie-in edition features an eight-page full-color insert with photos from the film, a foreword by the director Stephen Chbosky, an afterword by R.J. Palacio, a behind-the-scenes look at the making of the movie with anecdotes from the cast and crew, and a family discussion guide.
THE STORY OF ARTHUR TRULUV by Elizabeth Berg
Every day at lunchtime, Arthur visits and talks to his beloved late wife, in his imagination. Then a surprising encounter changes his life. Arthur meets Maddy, a troubled teenager who is avoiding school and wrestling with loneliness and feelings of abandonment. Moved by Arthur’s kindness and his unwillingness to take her teenage bait, Maddy gives him the nickname “Truluv”—and a surprising friendship develops between the two. When Arthur’s nosey neighbor, Lucille, moves into their orbit, the three begin to help one another through heartache and hardships to rediscover a sense of family, and to find again their potential to start anew.
KITCHENS OF THE GREAT MIDWEST by J. Ryan Stradal
Who is Eva Thorvald? To her chef father, Lars, Eva’s a miniature recipe tester and the love of his life. To the chili chow-down contestants of Chicago, she’s a pint-sized hustler. One day, Eva will surprise everyone…Abandoned by her mother, Eva finds solace and salvation in the flavors of her native Minnesota, and a passion bordering on obsession. J. Ryan Stradal delves into the American heartland, sweeping the vast landscapes of Lutheran church bake-offs, chili-pepper eating contests, and the opening of deer season to capture the zeitgeist of the Midwest and the rise of foodie culture.
I’LL GIVE YOU THE SUN by Jandy Nelson
The Printz Medal winner and Stonewall Honor book comes to Speak! At thirteen, Jude and her twin brother are NoahandJude; inseparable. Noah draws constantly and harbors has a crush on the charismatic boy next door, while daredevil Jude cliff-dives and wears red-red lipstick and does all the talking for both of them. At sixteen, they are barely speaking. In between, something has happened to wreck the twins in different yet equally devastating ways. The early years are Noah’s story to tell. The later years are Jude’s. Each has only half the story, and they’ll have to find their way back to one another in order to move on.
ME BEFORE YOU by Jojo Moyes
They had nothing in common until love gave them everything to lose…Louisa Clark is an ordinary girl living an exceedingly ordinary life—steady boyfriend, close family—who has barely been farther afield than their tiny village. She takes a badly needed job working for ex–Master of the Universe Will Traynor, who is wheelchair bound after an accident. Will has always lived a huge life—big deals, extreme sports, worldwide travel—and now he’s pretty sure he cannot live the way he is. Will is acerbic, moody, bossy—but Lou refuses to treat him with kid gloves, and soon his happiness means more to her than she expected.
THE STARS BENEATH OUR FEET by David Barclay Moore
A boy tries to steer a safe path through the projects in Harlem in the wake of his brother’s death in this outstanding debut novel that celebrates community and creativity. It’s Christmas Eve in Harlem, but twelve-year-old Lolly Rachpaul and his mom aren’t celebrating. They’re still reeling from his older brother’s death in a gang-related shooting just a few months earlier. Then Lolly’s mother’s girlfriend brings him a gift that will change everything: two enormous bags filled with Legos. MICHAEL B. JORDAN TO DIRECT MOVIE ADAPTATION! A PUBLISHER’S WEEKLY BEST BOOK OF THE YEAR! SIX STARRED REVIEWS!
THE UNLIKELY PILGRIMAGE OF HAROLD FRY by Rachel Joyce
The national bestseller about the silent regrets that erode a marriage and the simple acts of faith and forgiveness that build it anew. Recently retired, sweet, emotionally numb Harold Fry is jolted out of his passivity by a letter from Queenie Hennessy, an old friend, whom he hasn’t heard from in 20 years. She has written to say she is in hospice and wanted to say goodbye. Leaving his tense, bitter wife Maureen to her chores, Harold intends a quick walk to the corner mailbox to post his reply but instead, inspired by a chance encounter, he becomes convinced he must deliver his message in person to Queenie—who is 600 miles away—because as long as he keeps walking, Harold believes that she will not die.
ELEANOR OLIPHANT IS COMPLETELY FINE by Gail Honeyman
Meet Eleanor Oliphant: She struggles with appropriate social skills and tends to say exactly what she’s thinking. Nothing is missing in her carefully timetabled life of avoiding social interactions, where weekends are punctuated by frozen pizza, vodka, and phone chats with Mummy. But everything changes when Eleanor meets Raymond, the bumbling and deeply unhygienic IT guy from her office. Soon to be a major motion picture produced by Reese Witherspoon.
THE BOOK OF POLLY by Kathy Hepinstall
Willow Havens is ten years old and obsessed with the fear that her mother will die. Her mother, Polly, is a cantankerous, take-no-prisoners Southern woman who lives to chase varmints, drink margaritas, and antagonize the neighbors—and she sticks out like a sore thumb among the young modern mothers of their small conventional Texas town. She was in her late fifties when Willow was born, so Willow knows she’s here by accident, a late-life afterthought. Willow’s father died before she was born, her much older brother and sister are long grown and gone and failing elsewhere. It’s just her and bigger-than-life Polly.
For more on these and other uplifting books visit the collection here
#j.ryan stradal#there's a book for that#penguin random house#viking books#r.j. palacio#friday reads#wonder the book#choosekind#kathy hepinstall#gail honeyman#rachel joyce#david barclay moore#movie adaptions of books#jojo moyes#jandy nelson#elizabeth berg#me before you
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
So it’s time for me to share my favourite books that I read in 2019 and I have to say that this list has been weeks in the making! 2019 was my best ever year of reading in terms of how many books I read (at the time of writing this post I’ve read 375 books over the year), I have no idea how I read so many and I don’t expect it to ever happen again! It’s also been a year where so many wonderful books have found me and it’s been a near impossible task to make this list.
So I finally got my list down to forty books and am splitting it into two. Today I’m sharing the books that were listed from 40 – 21 on my countdown and I’m sharing them in no particular order – these books were all fabulous and I highly recommend them!
Click on the title of a book if you’d like to see my review! 🙂
The Family by Louise Jensen
I’m a huge fan of Louise Jensen’s writing and have loved every novel she’s published and The Family was every bit as good, if not better, than her previous books.
Nobody’s Wife by Laura Pearson
This is one of those books that made me feel emotional as I was reading it but it’s continued to run through my mind in the months since I read it. I found it a quiet book that has such a huge impact.
Do Not Feed the Bear by Rachel Elliott
I read this book fairly recently and I adored it. It’s a quirky book that has such emotional impact. I keep thinking about this one and I already want to re-read it.
How To Say Goodbye by Katy Colins
This is a novel I picked up after reading an interview with the author and the book more than lived up to my hopes for it. It made me tearful at times but it’s such a beautiful book and one I really loved.
Platform Seven by Louise Doughty
I didn’t expect this novel to make as much of an impression on me as it did but it’s a book that won’t let go of me. It’s so much more than I thought it was going to be and again it’s one I keep thinking about.
The Giver of Stars by Jojo Moyes
This is such a wonderful novel about books and libraries, I adored it. I think it might actually be my new favourite Jojo Moyes book!
Dead Inside by Noelle Holten
This is a debut novel and it’s so well-written. I found this book really hard to put down and I loved the depth to the story being told. I can’t wait for the next book in the series!
The Silent Patient by Alex Michaelides
I read this in one sitting, I just couldn’t stop reading and it’s a book that’s really stayed with me so it had to be on this list.
The Space Between Time by Charlie Laidlaw
This was a book that took me a little while to get into but I’m so glad I stuck with it because it was a book that left such a profound impact on me. I still think of this novel and I will re-visit it in the future.
Breakers by Doug Johnstone
This was my first Doug Johnstone book and I loved it so much that I’ve since bought most of his previous novels and plan on reading my way through them in the new year.
Worst Case Scenario by Helen Fitzgerald
This is such a brilliant book, it’s so dark and so funny! Plus the menopausal main character is so memorable and I could identify with some of her thinking!
Looker by Laura Sims
This book is a fascinating look at what leads someone to obsession and really gives an insight into where this behaviour may lead.
Postscript (PS I Love You #2) by Cecelia Ahern
I love PS I Love You when it was first published and so this sequel is one I was highly anticipating. I loved it, I think it may even be better than the first book!
Violet by SJI Holliday
This is such a brilliant novel following two women and you’re never quite sure if what they tell you is true and if they can be trusted. It’s a real cat and mouse novel and I loved it!
Rewind by Catherine Ryan Howard
I also loved this book! It’s such a clever way of setting out a novel with the play, pause and rewind elements. It’s one that is really staying with me.
The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt
I’m a huge Donna Tartt fan so I’ve been saving this to read and I finally got to it in the summer and I adored it. It’s a huge book but I read it in just a few days as I just got completely engrossed in the story. It’s brilliant!
The First Time Lauren Pailing Died by Alyson Rudd
I had to include this book as it was such a different and unique read. You follow Lauren in her life but early on in the novel she has an accident and at this point you begin to follow Lauren as she continues on after she survives, and also you follow her loved ones as they come to terms with her death. It seems like it might be hard to follow but it really isn’t. This book is wonderful!
Past Life by Dominic Nolan
This is another book that I devoured! I loved the crime mystery that runs through the novel but more than that I loved the main character. She’s really stayed with me and I keep thinking about her and wondering how she is.
The Other Half of Augusta Hope by Joanna Glen
I adored this book, it’s such a moving and at times heartbreaking book but it leaves you full of hope. I hope more people pick this one up.
The Wayward Girls by Amanda Mason
This is a book I was so nervous about reading because I’m such a wimp but I ended up reading the whole novel in one sitting as I just couldn’t put it down. It’s such a fascinating novel about two girls and their family and the haunted house they live in. I loved it!
Tomorrow on my blog I’ll be sharing the next part of my favourite books 2019 with the Top 20 so please look out for that then. What are your favourite books that you read this year? I’d love to know. 🙂
My Top 40 Favourite Books Read in 2019… Counting Down From 40 to 21! So it's time for me to share my favourite books that I read in 2019 and I have to say that this list has been weeks in the making!
#2019 Wrap Up#Alex Michaelides#Alyson Rudd#Amanda Mason#Audiobook#Best Books 2019#Books#Breakers#Catherine Ryan Howard#Cecelia Ahern#Charlie Laidlaw#Dead Inside#Do Not Feed the Bear#Dominic Nolan#Donna Tartt#Doug Johnstone#ebooks#Favourite Books 2019#Helen Fitzgerald#How To Say Goodbye#Joanna Cannon#Joanna Glen#Jojo Moyes#Katy Colins#Laura Pearson#Laura Sims#Looker#Louise Doughty#Louise Jensen#Nobody&039;s Wife
0 notes
Last Seen Blogs
neelprosystem-blog
NeelPro System Pvt. Ltd.
divinita-umana
Human Divinity
sinclqir
Sinny
novas-brain-is-leaking
nova's discourse between it and it's soul
cbealecmpt2
CMPT2