someone making a comment about prosecco h about how he should date his age and it sends yn into a spiral like "oh god this isn't a good idea"
Would love to see the first fight for Prosecco (or any one i love the first fight one shots for ur other series lol)
Prosecco angst!! Pleaseeeee
"(Y/N), love, c'mon."
Harry's feigned exasperation fell short the more his smile grew. His arms were wrapped securely around her waist as she clung to him, legs hitched around his hips in her effort to not let him go.
"I don't want you to leave."
(Y/N)'s pout could be heard from miles away, Harry didn't even need the confirmation of her puffed lips pressed against his throat. He only sighed at her whining, the sentiment the same thing she'd been saying since he unraveled himself from the sheets of his bed and her legs.
"We've spent the whole weekend together, haven't we?" he attempted to soothe her, running his palm along the span of her back, "And, you'll still be here when I come home, right? No reason to pout about that, is there?"
"Yes, there is," she argued, her petulant tone making Harry's grin widen, "I don't want you to leave at all. Tell them you're sick and we'll lay in bed all day. You can go to work tomorrow instead, when I have class and can't miss you."
"That's the same thing y'told me last week, and I really did take the day off, remember?" he told her, walking them back to the kitchen counter where his abandoned mug of coffee sat in wait after he was distracted, "Don't think I can get away with that again, sweetheart."
A quiet humph sounded from where she was huddled in his neck as he settled her on the ledge of the kitchen counter. Despite the stable surface now under her bottom, she didn't bother to unravel herself from around Harry's form, thighs still cinched around his hips and arms looped around his neck.
"Can you work from home, then?"
"I wish, but I don't have any of m'things with me. And, I've got to be at a meeting today with some of our new clients." Harry dropped a kiss to her shoulder once he saw them deflate at all the reasons he couldn't stay him and lie in with her, no matter how much he wanted to.
"Fine," she relented, peeling herself away from his neck only enough to get a look at his face.
Just as he expected, even though she was giving up on her fight, her features were still molded into the sad puppy look she had begun to realize was something he had a hard time resisting.
"Don't look so sad, darling," he cooed to her, ducking his head to press a kiss to the tip of he nose, "I'll be home soon, 'kay? Y'can even call me on my lunch if y'really miss me that much."
"We just had so much fun this weekend, I don't want it to be over already," she told him, canting her head to the side as she gazed up at him.
"We did, didn't we?" he smiled at her, thinking abut their weekend full of nothing but lounging around in bed and going out to eat when (Y/N) got too antsy in the house and wanted to dress up. "I promise we'll do it all again this weekend, pretty girl. Jus' need to get through work first, right?"
"Okay," she sighed, "Maybe we can go to the aquarium this weekend?"
Harry's smile winded at her words, dimples deep in his cheeks. "We can definitely do that, sweetheart. I'll buy the tickets today, alright?"
She brightened some at his promise, giving him the smile he was missing since she decided to be his pouty girl. "Thank you, H."
His arms around her waist tightened at her quiet gratitude. There was nothing he loved more than making her happy. With his grip, he pulled her just to the edge of the kitchen counter as her body relaxed, legs now dangling on either side of his with her arms a loose loop around his neck.
"Now, give me a kiss before I go. 'M already going to be running late," Harry requested, dipping his head down with a nudge to her nose with his own.
(Y/N) complied with no convincing, happily pressing her lips to his. Her kiss tasted like the fruit he cubed up for her for breakfast, warding off the bitter afternotes of the coffee he barely had time to brush from his teeth before (Y/N) pounced on him with pleas to stay home.
"Love you," he murmured against her lips, planting a small smattering of pecks across her mouth before pulling away.
"Love you, too," she told him, bright smile on her lips, "Text me when you're on lunch so I can call you."
"You know I will, darling," he told her, giving her one more kiss before finally stepping out from between her legs.
(Y/N) hopped off the counter and followed him for the send off, the length his button down swaying over her thighs as she followed him. As much as he hated to leave her, the idea of her waiting at his home for him, dressed in his clothes and full of love for him made his heart race. He'd never had someone to come home to like this, even if they weren't officially moved in together yet. That thought made the days a little easier to get through.
With one more blown kiss in her direction and a wave before he pulled off, Harry tried his best to start his day despite the fact he was leaving his heart behind.
(Y/N) was bored.
Harry's house wasn't that fun when he wasn't there with her, she decided. She went through and finished up the laundry they started the day before and changed the sheets out on his bed, and even made sure she had all of her toiletries packed up in her bag so she could go home after dinner tonight, but that only filled a few hours before she was lounging on his couch watching a reality dating show she couldn't believe really found love for these people. Her only saving grace was the fact that the lunch hour was approaching.
Despite the fact she had already promised to call him during the break this morning, these lonesome hours allowed her to think up an idea that sounded much more fun the longer she laid out on his couch.
She was going to go see him.
She was going to pick up some lunch on the way there, and actually go see him for the first time at his big office. Planning her outfit took all of twenty minutes as she refused to take off his shirt, deciding to pair it with a pair of jeans that Harry had told her made her butt look good and the pearled headband she wore on their first date. It was a fun distraction, getting ready, as she primped her hair and did her skincare routine—forgoing makeup for the day—before placing a pickup order at Harry's favorite little diner he takes her to when she's hungry in the middle of the night. She couldn't wait to surprise him.
The drive to the diner was a familiar one, a quick stop that had her bubbling with excitement as she double checked the order of Harry's favorite meal and all his fixings (he loved this melt they had, the ingredients basically making up a grilled cheese until Harry added all of these bits and extras that elevated it to a 'melt' instead). As soon as she had today's lunch packed away in the passenger seat, (Y/N) put the address of Harry's office building into her GPS. A canopy of butterflies made their way through her tummy as her ETA approached with every mile she drove to his office. She'd never been before, and the fact that Harry wasn't expecting her added another layer to her bubbling nerves. Hopefully, she could find the place—and his office—easily so she couldn't have to ruin the surprise with a call asking him for directions.
Once the towering building came into view, (Y/N) realized just how many times she'd passed it on the way to her labs for her required science class her first year of university. The glossy windows shone in the sun's rays, gleaming almost as brightly as the blocky lettering that detailed the company name over the top floor of the structure. She knew his job was important, that he made a good living and met high-profile people, but she never figured it was this important. If she was being honest, what she had pictured was a building in a business plaza with a few floors to spare for the different departments, Harry's office settled on the highest one (at max, the fifth floor). Looking at the scale of his job, she now felt a little guilty for convincing him to call in the previous week. (That didn't mean she wasn't planning on doing it again, though).
With their lunches in hand, the plastic bag hanging off her wrist as she locked her car, (Y/N) craned her neck to gaze up the height of the building. If Harry was important as she figured he would be—should be—, he was at the top behind one of those glossy windows. He probably had a killer view.
Going through the glass doors, (Y/N) saw a luxurious waiting room complete with a receptionist smiling behind a glass desk and a shiny set of elevators pinging behind her as people came and went. It was definitely the lunch hour if the amount of suited people sifting through the lobby with lunch pails and takeaway containers to some of the fancier restaurants nearby was anything to go by.
"Hello," the receptionist greeted her, a bright smile on her face as that could rival the gleaming plate on her desk that detailed her name to be Seline. "Are you here to drop off a lunch delivery?"
Glancing down at her casual look and a bag of food at her side, (Y/N) couldn't blame her for thinking she was just here to drop off some executive's food order. The one day she doesn't feel like getting all dressed up to see him.
"Oh, no," she laughed, carefully approaching the desk so she didn't make any scoffs with the worn soles of her shoes, "I'm actually here to see Harry Styles? I think he's supposed to be on his lunch break right now, so I was hoping I could eat with him if you wouldn't mind telling me where I can find his office."
"Oh," Seline chirped with a raise of her brows, glancing down at the desktop Mac stationed on the surface of her glass desk, "I see. And may I ask for your name?"
"Right, sorry, I'm (Y/N). His girlfriend." (Y/N) hated the way her answer felt like a question with the way her tone tilted upwards at the end. She was beginning to feel so out of place in this building, she even doubted her own name.
"His girlfriend?" Seline deadpanned, her eyes flicking from her screen to fix on (Y/N). Though she still held a pleasant expression on her face, there was something vacant entering her smile, like she wasn't entirely sure what to do about this situation.
"Yeah," she affirmed with a jerky nod, her hair fluttering behind the hold of the headband crowing her head, "It's kind of a surprise, so..."
(Y/N) cringed as she trailed off, wishing she had thought through her statement before she opened her mouth.
"Oh, okay," Seline smiled, the edges turning down some as she tapped away at her keyboard. After pressing definitively on the enter key, the receptionist looked up with an apology in her eyes, "Unfortunately, I'm not able to let anyone up to see any of the executives unless I have express permission from them or an appointment on their schedule. But, I can take a message for you and let him know you stopped by?"
A kind of anxiety (Y/N) hadn't felt since her first day of college swept through her system. She was sure Seline was doing her job, following policies in place that made the most of Harry and his colleagues' time, but (Y/N) had never felt more stupid or out of place in her life. Another set of employees dressed in suits and skirts, everything creaseless with precise pleats and expensive shoes that clacked over the tiled floor made their way out of the elevator, making (Y/N) feel that much more out of place with the holes in her jeans and the wrinkles in her borrowed shirt. She hadn't even bothered to brush her hair before she left.
The bag of food at her side crinkled as she shifted, grabbing for her phone from her pocket. "Um, could I actually give him a call, really quick? I-I'm sure he'll let me up, I just didn't know he needed to let you know."
"Of course, take your time," Seline offered, dropping her skeptical gaze to (Y/N)'s flowery cased phone, "As soon as I have his permission come through my system, I can buzz the elevator for you."
Peeping out a thank you, (Y/N) scurried off to one of the white leather seats that decorated the waiting area. She was sure no one was paying her any mind as she fiddled with her phone, getting frustrated when her Face I.D. wasn't accepted with the way her hands were shaking, but she swore every person that passed through the waiting area—especially Seline—had their eyes glued to the silly girl that was trying to bypass protocol to see her 'boyfriend'.
By the time she had the phone pressed to her ear with Harry's contact pulled up, (Y/N) worried she was going to scream if the plastic bag with their food crinkled one more time in the quiet lobby.
"Sweetheart, I was jus' about to text you," Harry greeted her, his voice offering a flood of relief.
"Harry, hi—uh—I'm at your office." She cringed as the words left her mouth, knowing Seline could definitely hear the way she wobbled through her words. "But—um—I'm not allowed up until you say its okay."
"You are? Sweetheart, I'm so sorry, I didn't know y'were coming," Harry prattled off after a beat, the sound of a keyboard tapping in the background.
"It's okay, I was trying to surprise you with lunch and everything," she murmured, feeling silly now in her plan. Of course she wasn't going to be escorted to someone's corporate office without some kind of permission or appointment. At least they were getting it figured out.
"Oh, pretty girl," Harry cooed through the phone, his smile evident in his tone, "That's so sweet of you. I can't wait to see you." He paused for a moment before she heard a ping on the line. "Alright, I sent my access code down to Seline, she'll buzz y'right up, yeah? Once you're on m'floor, just need to take a right to Shelly's desk and you'll need to tell her your name but she'll let you in right away."
"Thank you, H," she sighed as her shoulders sagged in relief. With a proper plan in place, (Y/N) could breathe. "Love you."
"Love you too, gorgeous. I'll see you in a minute."
After hanging up, Seline waved her over as soon as (Y/N) stowed her phone in her pocket. "Mr. Styles' permission just came through!" she beamed at her, "I'm so sorry about that confusion, Ms. (Y/N). Mr. Styles just didn't let me know he was expecting anyone and you look so young, I was worried a daughter of one of his clients got a little too attached over a client dinner or something." Seline laughed as if she had told (Y/N) one of her funniest jokes as she clicked away at her keyboard, the up arrow above one of the elevators lighting up as she pressed enter. Swiping a keycard from a drawer on her desk, Seline handed it out with a polite smile on her face. "Scan this at the elevator, and go to floor twenty. Have a nice lunch, Ms. (Y/N)."
(Y/N) swallowed as she took the keycard, reciprocating the polite smile the receptionist gave her though (Y/N) could bet her own was nothing more than a shaky imitation. She worked robotically as she followed the directions she was given, the keycard taking a moment to scan as she couldn't steady her hand.
She looked so young that Seline worried she was a daughter of one of Harry's clients coming to stalk him? Alone in the elevator with her distorted reflecting staring back at her in the mirrored panels that slated the walls, (Y/N) didn't know what to think. Of course it was never a secret that there was a lengthy gap in age between she and H—the very reason he had waited so long in becoming close to her—but never had that fact been so blatantly presented to her.
Sure, (Y/N) didn't do herself any favors with her makeup-less face and rumpled outfit, but she didn't think she particularly looked like someone's teen daughter who sought after a man of her father's demographic. Shaking off the comment, she tried to remind herself of the relief of finally getting out of that lobby and getting closer and closer to her Harry—her comfort zone. All she had to do was talk to Shelly, and she was in. No more crinkling plastic bag or scuffs of her shoes over the expensive tile.
Once the elevator dinged, the number twenty illuminated over the door, (Y/N) let out a breath. This floor held the same ambiance as the waiting room she'd just left—clean lines, light colors, and glass fixtures everywhere. Office doors with titles and names lined the length of the hall. Each sprawling end was serrated by the lobby area that almost perfectly emulated the one below, only smaller.
The same glass desk as Seline's was stationed in the middle of the lobby, the main fixture in the area with the gleaming iMac and tall vase of neutral flowers on the edge. A desk plate inscribed with Shelly across the brass shone in the sunlight seeping through the windows. But, there was no Shelly to be seen.
Peering down the hall, (Y/N) spotted what looked like it could be the office to the Chief Officer of Brand Relationships, or his better known name: Harry Styles. Without Shelly there, and her safe haven within her sights, (Y/N) figured she'd just toe her way down the hall and get to his office by herself. Just as she moved to bypass the glass desk, the sound of heels tapping over the elaborately titled floors sounded from the hall behind her.
Looking over her shoulder, (Y/N) paused when she realized who was clicking over the floor.
"Hello, sorry about that I was—" Shelly cut herself off, her brows furrowing once she was close enough to realize who was standing in her lobby, "(Y/N)?"
"Hi, Shelly," (Y/N) awkwardly greeted her, taking in her classmate from the Business English course she took before (Y/N) realized she would rather die than have anything to do with writing business polices and handbook guides. She'd never seen Shelly so dressed up, used to her curls being tied into a poof on the top of her head with baggy sweatsuits covering her form. Here, she was clad in a smart skirt with the matching top tucked in, complete with the resounding heels that clacked over the floor, hair in defined and shiny ringlets. (Y/N) swallowed before she spoke again, "I didn't know you worked here."
"Oh yeah," Shelly waved off, a pinch remaining in her brow, "this is where I do my internship hours."
When she paused, this is what (Y/N) had been scared of. She and Shelly certainly weren't close enough to maintain a bubbling conversation with anything other than surface level small talk before settling into a static silence.
"That's nice," (Y/N) smiled, forcing herself to keep from grabbing for her phone out of habit at the feel of the awkward air, "How do you like it?"
Shelly gave her a generic smile, one she most likely trained herself for with this job. "It's really nice, thanks for asking. Super nice place, and the food is awesome around here so there's always fun lunch breaks to be had." They both broke out into polite laughs, (Y/N) trying to ease herself when she saw Shelly's eyes drop to the plastic bag at her side. "Are you here dropping off food for someone?"
Round two begins.
"Oh no," (Y/N) shook her head, schooling her features as best she could, "I'm here to see—um—Harry Styles, actually. He said he sent a permi—"
"You're Mr. Styles' girlfriend?"
(Y/N) nervously began to pluck at the buttons of her top with her restless fingers. Though her smile was beginning to waver, she kept up her polite facade. "That's me," she chirped with a shrug, faux-nonchalance greasing her joints.
"Oh," Shelly sounded, eyes wide with brows raised as she rounded the side of her desk. In seconds her gaze was flitting over her computer screen, incredulous look still pasted to her face by the time she finally looked up at (Y/N) again. "You're the one that talked to Seline downstairs?"
"Yeah," (Y/N) replied simply, unsure of where else to go with a question like that.
Shelly hummed, leaning down and typing out something on the keyboard before she stood to the full of her height and gave her attention to (Y/N), though she wished she could give it back. "You're having lunch with him today?"
"Yeah," she parroted, the bag at her side crinkling at the worst time, "I called him when I was downstairs, so he should know I'm here and everything already."
"Right," Shelly laughed, shaking her head with a fluff to her curls as she seemingly remembered where she was, "Sorry about that. I got Seline's message that Mr. Styles' girlfriend was here to see him, you're just not what I was expecting." She rounded her desk once more with a pleasant smile, heels clacking.
Gesturing for (Y/N) to follow her with a quiet right this way, Shelly started her down the same hallway (Y/N) had seen Harry's nameplate. As much as she had wanted to scurry away and hide in Harry's office before, (Y/N) dragged her feet during the trek. Maybe she was nothing but a glutton for punishment, unable to let the draining weeds growing in her head go unfed, but she couldn't help herself before the next question left her lips.
"What do you mean?"
"Hm?" Shelly hummed, falling back to walk in line with (Y/N).
"Just—I mean..." (Y/N) stuttered, cringing at herself for stumbling so hard over her words in the quiet hallway. "Um, what were you expecting when you heard his girlfriend was coming?"
"Oh," Shelly chirped, slowing even further as she directed her gaze to the ceiling with a pucker to her lips as she thought. "No one specific, really. I don't know, I figured it would be some kind of executive lady, or something. Oh, wait! Do you remember Prof Frances?"
(Y/N) stopped herself from taking in the deep breath that ached to be a sigh at the mention of one of the teachers that was well known across campus. She was a super beautiful woman, someone that people were known to take her class for with only the intention of staring at her and trying their hand at flirting with her during office hours. She was a kind woman, reserved and quiet when not up front lecturing, but held the kind of confidence that only came with age and loving the body you were in and the person you were. She was grown. Of course, Shelly would picture someone like that for Harry.
Cool, confident, and sure of herself. Her beauty was only a plus and her age was much more well matched for Shelly's Mr. Styles.
"I remember her."
"I guess I pictured someone like her then," Shelly bubbled off, shrugging her shoulders as they came to a stop by Harry's door, "All tall and dark and everything. I definitely wasn't expecting one of my classmates."
(Y/N) gave a polite laugh to Shelly's attempt at a joke. She felt entirely too stiff in the lungs and tight in her tummy to think of anything sunny at the the moment.
"It was really nice to see you, though," Shelly chirped, eyes bright as she turned, "Let me know when you're planning on coming by next time, and I can tell Seline so she can have the keycard and everything waiting for you."
Getting out a weak thanks, (Y/N) watched as Shelly knocked on Harry's office door before cracking it open enough to stick her head through and let him know his guest was here. The sound of Harry's deep voice sounding through his office, though muffled by the time it reached (Y/N)'s ears, did enough to soothe her anxieties before she was ushered over the threshold with Shelly shutting the door behind her.
"Hi, sweetheart," Harry smiled at her, rising from his spot behind his desk with open arms, "'M so happy to see you, c'mere."
It was instinct the way she moved across the office, dropping the bag of food into one of the chairs opposing his desk with her bag and keys. (Y/N) smushed her face against his chest as soon as she was close enough, looping her arms around his middle while Harry's became a cradle around her shoulders.
"Hi," she peeped against his chest, eyes falling closed.
"My pretty girl," he hummed as he dropped a kiss to the top of her head. "Best surprise ever, you know that?"
"Good," she tried to laugh, urging her lungs to relax, "I was starting to worry that I wasn't supposed to be here."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked, unpeeling himself from around her. Shifting his grip, he laced a hand through hers while he reached for the bag of food on his desk, a smile appearing on his face when he noticed the restaurant name on the plastic.
Flashing back to the tight air that filtered through the lobby downstairs and the unexpected run-in with a classmate, (Y/N) only shrugged. Fanning her gaze across his office, she followed after him as he took her to the comfortable pair of chairs stationed by the floor to ceiling window that plated one side of his office. The perfect spot to schmooze clients and lunch with other executives.
"It's just really fancy here, and all," (Y/N) settled on as she sunk into the plush leather of the chair.
A huffed laugh left Harry's lips as he doled out the contents of the bag, packets of silverware and napkins being shared on the sidetable planted between the chairs. "Yeah, a little, isn't it? Definitely not what it used to be when I started working here."
(Y/N) only nodded as he spoke, a small smile on her face. She wanted to be here with Harry, talking about his work, seeing his excitement when he realized what she picked up for him, or just allowing the fact she was spending time with him to wash over her. She wanted all of that, but each time she felt herself relax, a moment of Seline's quickly concealed judgement or Shelly's bordering-on-disrespectful surprise flashed through her memory.
Should she even be here right now?
"Pretty girl, y'got me my melt!" Harry chirped with a bright smile, bringing her attention back to the moment where an unopened takeaway box sat on her lap.
A genuine curve of her lips molded her features. This was what she had been looking forward to when she thought up her plan. "And, I even made sure they put all that gross stuff you like on there."
Harry scoffed and made a face as he reached for a pack of cutlery. "'S not gross to have mushrooms on a melt, love. At least 'm not dipping it in ketchup or something worse."
With a pointed glance in her direction, Harry waited for the explosion she was going to give him.
"Harry Styles, that was one time, and I was drunk. It's not fair to keep bringing that up!"
The bright smile on his face was reward enough for all the trouble she'd gone through to make it to his office. "'S jus' shocking, that's all," Harry pressed, his curls falling over his forehead as he shook his head, "As a self-proclaimed grilled cheese purist, I expected a little better out of you."
Rolling her eyes, (Y/N) cracked open her own box. From the corner of her eye, she could see Harry digging into his lunch, spinach leaves and avocado smears edging out the back of the sandwich.
"You know," he started, swallowing down his bite while (Y/N) twirled her side of macaroni on her fork, "y'should be happy that's the most embarrassing thing you've done around me while drunk. By the time I was your age, I had friends who had to babysit me at parties after this one time I tried to eat some girl's cigarette. I only have photos to prove that even happened, though because I don't remember a second of it."
Normally, (Y/N) would have been enamored at the mention of what Harry was like when he was university aged like her. But, today the phrase of when I was your age, struck a cord in her.
There hadn't been too much thought in her head about their age gap when she met Harry. The only time she had really thought about it was when Harry brought it up, telling her that he hadn't wanted to pursue her sooner in hopes of avoiding making her uncomfortable. When he had told her that, she remembered the way she canted her head to the side with a furrow in her brow; the fact he was thirty (or close to, when they met) hadn't been something that sounded all that bad to her. If he had showed her any kind of interest earlier, (Y/N) wouldn't have given it a single thought before trying to subtly flirt her way into his life.
Today had been the first time she really had to confront their age gap in a way that didn't make her feel protected and warm.
Sure, she could understand a moment's hesitation. They weren't a traditional coupling, and that was fine, but hearing more than once that she was not what others had expected to be Harry's girlfriend got under her skin. The mention of a previous professor just about sealed the deal for (Y/N).
Of course, someone his age would be able to bond over the same things they grew up with, the same formative years and pop culture references. Of course, he would be better matched to someone with the same level of maturity who was on the same chapter of their life.
"What's got y'thinking so hard over there, sweetheart? Making me nervous y'jus' remembered y'left the stove on or something." Harry's joking brought her back to the present, the bright open space of his office greeting her from where she emerged in the back of her head.
(Y/N) shook her head, "Nothing. I was watching Love Island before I left, and those people are so weird sometimes." As expected Harry's smile turned crooked at the mention of the television show she had managed to get him sucked into on more than one occasion.
"Yeah? What happened this time?"
"Too much, I'll have to show you later," (Y/N) brushed off. She could barely remember half of the contestants' names right now, let alone recall any specific scene of the episode she watched today. She had much bigger things on her mind. "Can I ask you something, H?"
The responding hum he gave her was enough to have (Y/N) pushing at the fries littering her takeaway box as she tried to construct her question.
"Have you... You've told people about us, right?"
Harry nodded his head as he plucked a dangling piece of spinach off his melt. "Yeah, I've mentioned y'to my colleagues and all and talked about you at a couple of events and everything. Why?"
Urging herself to be nonchalant, (Y/N) tried her best despite the robotic motion of her shoulders as she shrugged. "Both of the people I talked to—the receptionists—seemed really surprised to see me."
"I mean, y'surprised even me, sweetheart," Harry laughed, smiling around the French fry he tossed in his mouth.
"I know. I guess, it was like they were surprised to see me. Like, they couldn't believe that I was your girlfriend." (Y/N) zipped her lips before she could manage to spill any more of what was running through her head while she had been pinned under the microscope of his employee's gazes.
A furrow pinched at his brow as he wiped at his mouth. "I don't really show pictures of you, or anything since 's no one's business," Harry paused as he spoke, "But, I can start doing that if y'want? Was thinking about putting a picture of you on m'desk anyway, so we can start there."
While the mention of being a fixture on Harry's work desk was a sweet sentiment, that wasn't exactly what she had been shooting for. She didn't know how to tell him about what had happened out in the waiting areas, not wanting to cause any problems or drama, and Harry didn't seem to understand what she was hinting at. She could always bring it up later, once he was out of his work clothes and (Y/N) wasn't feeling so raw from the experience.
With that thought, (Y/N) brushed off the memories and sunk herself into the leather of her chair.
"You'd put me on your desk?" she smiled at him, trying not to picture what Seline or Shelly would do if they saw a photograph of Mr. Styles with his co-ed girlfriend in his office.
"Course," Harry cemented, a sweet smile on his features, "It'd be a whole lot easier than unlocking m'phone every five minutes to see your picture."
Though there was a dark corner in the back of her mind that couldn't even begin to prune the poisonous weeds growing there, (Y/N) did her best to accept Harry's sweetness as it was.
He loved her and she loved him back just as much, that was all that mattered.
By the time (Y/N) made it back to Harry's house, she couldn't think of another time she had been this exhausted.
Lunch with him was perfect after she managed to banish those inflammatory feelings from her mind, but it was the trek back downstairs when his lunch hour was up that wrung her out. Shelly was behind her desk when (Y/N) left Harry's office, giving her a polite smile and see you later pinged in (Y/N)'s head knowing that the next time she would see the receptionist would be on her college campus. Seline was just as polite, but still vacant as she flicked her gaze to (Y/N)'s shoes that squeaked over the tile on accident.
It was nothing they said, but the way they looked at her that had (Y/N) fidgeting on the drive back. Shelly could be a bit of a gossip from what (Y/N) could remember back when they shared a class, and it wouldn't surprise her to find out that the ding she heard from Seline's computer was a message from Shelly dishing about Mr. Styles' girlfriend.
(Y/N) was an overthinker and she knew that. The stupidest things in class could have her up at night analyzing every moment in fear she said the wrong thing or wasn't nice enough in a single moment. Everything with Andrew and Iris that happened forever ago had made her lose many weeks of sleep trying to figure out where she had gone wrong to cause either of them to treat her so poorly. When she and Harry started getting closer, she remembered the nights she would lay with her eyes on the ceiling trying to figure out if the way he said 'just friends' really meant they were only friends or if she should put more stock in the way he held her to his side and clung to her hand as he walked her home. She spun herself out on more than one occasion, and it appeared her power was needed once more.
Stepping over the threshold to his house, (Y/N) was washed over with Harry's scent. Though the hallmarks of the typical comfort she felt walking into his space remained, she still had that lingering feeling of being out of place. Just like she had at his office.
She kept her shoes on as she trekked through the space, forgoing the usual ritual of shucking them off before placing them beside Harry's own collection by the door. Her bag hung limply in her hand as he walked down the hall. She felt ready to bolt at a moment's notice like a spooked animal.
Though he was partial to hanging art pieces through his home, Harry still had his fair share of personal photos pasted to the walls. A panel dedicated to his family and friends stole (Y/N)'s attention as she approached his room, eyes grazing the pictures. Many were with the friend group she was now apart of, majority with Harry's closest friends of the bunch, Mitch and Sarah. She could see holidays and getaways spent with his people; tan as he vacationed with Mitch and Tom and Jeff in Jamaica, and bundled up with a cap covering his curls while spending time in Japan.
Trailing her eyes through the photographs, Harry's smile seemed to show the brightest in pictures with his family. More often than not, his mother and sister were tucked underneath his arms, matching smiles on their faces as they gazed into the lens. The trio of them all looked so similar; dark hair and pretty eyes, dimples and high cheekbones.
(Y/N) wondered if his mom smiled like that when Harry told her about his girlfriend. When he told her that his girlfriend was still in university and had to have Harry order for her when they went out because she was too anxious to do it herself. Did those dimples still crater her cheeks when Harry detailed out how his girlfriend's ID was still skeptically looked at by bouncers and bartenders, a handful of them even blatantly asking if it was a fake or giving Harry a dirty look for corralling some young girl out to the bars with him. (Y/N) wondered how his sister reacted the first time she saw a photo of them on instagram, and even moreso when she had inevitably perused (Y/N)'s page after and found teenaged photos that weren't that far down the feed.
Did either of them look the way Seline had? Did they share that same shocked surprise that Shelly had written all over her face?
Shaking her head, (Y/N) willed herself to go to his room, tearing her gaze from the wall of photos that she was only using to hurt her own feelings. Those weeds of doubt that had sprouted back at Harry's office had vined around her mind and taken her hostage with no escape route in place.
(Y/N) knew in her heart that Harry was her perfect match; she could trust herself on that decision. No one had loved or cared for her the way he did. No one she had ever known texted her in the middle of the day just because they saw a bundle of clouds that looked like this little plush dog (Y/N) had loved as a kid. No one called her first thing in the morning with the express purpose of leaving her a voicemail to wake up to.
She knew that Harry was her perfect match, but maybe she wasn't his.
Was she holding him back? There could be someone out there that could actually relate to him when he brought up some toy he had as a kid that was discontinued before (Y/N) was even born. Someone who could afford to treat him to more than a cup of coffee or lunch at a greasy diner. There could be someone who could fit him better, but he was too busy entertaining her to find them.
Sinking into the edge of his mattress, (Y/N) hung her head in her hands with her elbows digging into her thighs. She knew she needed to stop herself right now, right where she was in her never-ending process of negativity. She wasn't being rational.
Harry loved her and he wouldn't waste his time on someone the didn't believe was worth it. And, (Y/N) knew she loved him just as much, if not more than he did her. Spiraling over all of this wasn't helpful to anyone, especially when she knew there was no reason to doubt her gut or her place in Harry's life.
But, that insecurity that rooted itself in her brain and guilt that had flooded in along with it wasn't that easy to boot.
Pulling her head from her hands, she looked to the mess of her stuff she had made by his closet door, duffle bag left open with her clothes spilling out from all sides. (Y/N) sighed as she stood up, reaching down to clean up the mess she left on his floor after rifling through for her outfit for the day. In a pang of bitterness, she couldn't help but knock herself down with the thought that Prof Frances would never leave a mess like this at Harry's house. She was too mature, and put together to leave her charging cable laying along the floor with extra underwear hanging out of the side pocket to her bag.
Taking a deep breath, (Y/N) shoved her things harder into her bag, wrinkling and mushing her clothes into a lump of fabric. She was mad at herself for getting so hung up over this all; it wasn't even bad what was said today! Sure it was a bit annoying to be compared to a teenager and told that her old professor would be a more predictable fit for Harry, but no one was out to hurt her feelings—it had only been herself knocking her down. Slumping back on her heels before her bag, (Y/N) wondered if she might have better luck of shaking this feeling if she just went home.
There, she could shower using her fancy body scrub that was too hard to transport for sleepovers at Harry's, use her sweet-smelling shampoo and even do a face mask and wipe away everything that had bothered her today. At home she could lick her wounds and be a better partner to Harry when she wasn't so raw and down on herself. While she thought she hid it pretty well over lunch how upset she was, she knew it wasn't fair to Harry to wait for him to come home after a long day and pretend she was in the best of moods.
With a sigh, brows pinched at the middle, (Y/N) hooked her overnight bag over her shoulder before reaching for her phone. She had her eyes placed on her phone as she left his room, making a point to bypass the wall of family photos without a glance.
hey h I think Im gonna go home:( im not feeling super good and really want to shower at my place and sleep some before class tomorrow. ill bring your shirt back after I wash it and everything. sorry :(
Her hands shook as he pressed send before locking his front door behind her. Locking her phone, (Y/N) made her way to her car with a pit in her tummy. It didn't feel good to lie to Harry, especially when it was a lie that would keep her from spending time with him. She didn't even want to see the inevitable sweet text he would send back, most likely offering to drop off soup or come by for a cuddle if she needed someone to help take care of her. In the long run, though, she knew this time apart would be good for them.
That's why even when Harry texted her back with with a sad face and a promise that it was alright, pretty girl, she couldn't waver. Even when he sent her another message after he had assumed she'd fallen asleep while she was taking her time in the shower that he missed her and couldn't wait to see her later this week. He was here for her if she needed anything, he reminded her.
Locking her phone without responding that night was the hardest thing she had to do.
Harry felt his heart ache when he stepped out of the shower, looping towel around his waist as he saw (Y/N) hadn't texted him back still. Poor thing really must not be feeling well if she conked out at seven, his little night owl.
He hadn't been too surprised when she messaged him earlier in the day to let him know she wasn't feeling well, but it still made his shoulders drop at the prospect of her not being there when he got home. She had been a bit off during lunch, lost in her head and reluctant to eat more than a few bites before she claimed she was full from breakfast still. He was worried about her when he saw that she hadn't even been enticed by the side of macaroni and cheese she ordered for herself, the diner being one of her favorite places to have it. If not for the fact she told him she wanted to get some sleep in so she could be well enough for class tomorrow, Harry would have insisted in going to her place after he got off work. But, he knew that if he stopped by, she would do what she always did and try to stay awake as long as possible with him.
If she wasn't well enough by Wednesday when they had plans to see one another, he wouldn't take no for an answer to bring her some soup or coddle her through her bug, like she had declined tonight instead for sleep.
Settling into bed, Harry was wrapped in (Y/N)'s scent that puffed through his comforter as he fluffed it around himself. When he closed his eyes, it was like she was still with him.
After setting his alarm early enough he had time to call (Y/N) and leave a good morning voicemail and make his cup of coffee before heading to work, Harry filled his head with all the love and affection he wished he could be giving to (Y/N) in that moment. Hopefully she would feel some of it and know he was thinking about her, and could help her feel somewhat better.
Harry hoped she was thinking about him, too.
Though the threat of a day's worth of classes loomed over her head, (Y/N) woke on Wednesday morning feeling worlds better than she had even twenty-four hours prior. She had made the right choice in staying with herself for a couple of days, having all that time to spend with herself to get her head screwed on straight and talk herself down from the spiraling decline she had set herself up for.
Tuesday had been a hard day to get through, especially as she started the day with a mention of her faux-illness in Harry's morning voicemail. That guilt she felt about holding him back, not being the right person to make him happy only increased ten-fold when she tacked on the fact she had lied to get away from him for a couple of nights. But, since she had all that time to herself she was allowed to wallow for a few hours before being sucked into real life and having to exit her head.
The reality of it all was that it didn't matter what ran through Seline's head when she saw who her boss's girlfriend was. Same thing with Shelly; she had assumed Harry would be interested in someone like Prof Frances, but that wasn't true. Harry was interested in someone like (Y/N), and she loved him back just as much. That was all that mattered, and if anyone really had any issues, any quarrels about her age or whether or not she was an appropriate person for Harry to be in love with, didn't. She was happy with him, completely dedicated and willing to be in this relationship, and she knew he felt the same. That was all that mattered.
By the time she'd gone to sleep on Tuesday night, (Y/N) was still happy to have this time to herself (especially since she was doing all kinds of body skincare that entailed her hands to be wrapped in serum soaked gloves and feet to be in the same situation), she missed Harry. At least this time she didn't pretend to be asleep while he was texting her.
Wednesday morning was a piece of cake by then. The pit of anxiety that had weighed her down since Monday was finally gone, and (Y/N) couldn't have been more excited to see Harry that night.
She just had to get through class first.
By the time her final class of the day started—creative writing with Prof Daniels at two p.m every Wednesday and Friday—(Y/N) was excited. She actually really loved the current assignment for the class, and didn't feel even a tint of exhaustion at the idea of having plans after she was done for the day. If she made enough progress on her draft today, she might even be able to share what she had done with Harry and see what he thought.
After Mr. Daniels made his introduction for the day, reminding the class of the first draft's due date and what themes are meant to be focused on for this assignment, he retired to his office for the hour leaving everyone to independently work and make progress on their drafts. A few of her classmates left once their professor went to his office, getting the attendance grade before going off to do whatever else they wanted for the day, but (Y/N) stayed planted in her spot, headphones in her ears.
Wanting to start off on the right foot when this project was announced, (Y/N) had outlined the general flow of the piece with each of the required themes weaved throughout, making this entire process much easier than she had in the past. (Y/N) had found her groove moments later, typing away at her laptop with quick glances back and forth at her handwritten outline. Much of the class had emptied out for the hour when she bothered to take a look around, but she didn't mind being one of the few that took advantage of this allotted time to finish her work. Besides, she didn't want to go home and forget what time it was while she was working only to have Harry come in to see her still in her sweats when she had something a little bit prettier planned to greet him with.
When (Y/N) had just made it through the first section of her piece, out of the corner of her eye she noticed someone settling in the seat beside her. A quick glance showed it was one of the girls in her class that she often peer reviewed with, Isla. She was someone (Y/N) had met through Iris but wasn't all that close to either of them, which (Y/N) was thankful for after everything that had happened; she was nice during peer reviews and gave honest feedback, and (Y/N) would have hated having to find someone else in the class if she insisted on being loyal to Iris.
Isla's body was positioned in her seat to face (Y/N), knees pointed toward her with a smile on her face. Her laptop was still stationed at the typical desk she occupied, so (Y/N) figured she wasn't switching her seating situation. Plucking a headphone out of her ear, (Y/N) paused her music.
"Hey," she greeted Isla, voice quiet despite the fact almost all of her remaining classmates had their own headphones on and music playing, "What's up?"
"Hey, (Y/N)," Isla smiled at her, quickly glancing at her phone that was lit up in her lap, "I'm so sorry to bother you, I know we're supposed to be working on our stories."
"Its okay," (Y/N) brushed off, giving her attention to Isla despite the blinking cursor on her screen that urged her to keep going, "Did you need help with something?"
Isla shook her head, red curls fluttering around her face, "Oh no, this is actually super weird. But, my roommate told me something that didn't sound right, but I wanted to ask you if it was true."
A furrow pinched at (Y/N)'s brow as she listened. Couldn't Isla have just googled this?
"Okay," she started, "I don't know if I'll know the answer, but I'll try."
Releasing her bottom lip that had gone trapped between her teeth, Isla grabbed for her phone in her lap one more time. "You know Shelly Blake, right?"
At the mention of Shelly's name, (Y/N) felt all the color drain from her face. Nonetheless, she gave Isla a small nod, rolling her lips between her teeth. She knew where this was going.
"Well, my roommate had brunch with her this morning, I guess, and Shelly said that you're dating her boss," Isla babbled, not being nearly as quiet as (Y/N) wanted, "But I told Kerry—my roommate—that I don't think that's true because I think Shelly's boss is, like, thirty or something. But, Shelly says that you, like, went to her office and went and saw him and all, but, I don't know, I don't believe it. I know you have a boyfriend and all, but it's not him, right?"
(Y/N)'s mouth ran dry as soon as she heard the mention of Harry's age. Of course, that would be the point of contention as to why there was no way (Y/N) could be dating Shelly's boss.
She didn't know what to say, but (Y/N)'s silence seemed to be enough for Isla to realize her own answer. (Y/N) worried her fingers in her lap as she tried to come up with something to say, the nourishing mask she had done on her hands the night before making a much harder task of picking at her cuticles.
"Um, actually," (Y/N) started, feigning a smile on her features so she didn't make this interaction any more awkward by showing that she was hurt, "it is true. I've been dating him for a little while now, and I just went and visited him for lunch on Monday."
"Oh," Isla sounded, glancing back at her phone before finally locking the device and turning it facedown, "I didn't know that. I guess I always figured the guy you post on instagram was from that tech university that's an hour away or something since I'd never seen him around."
"Oh, no," (Y/N) shook her head, pleasant face still in place, "He's an executive at Shelly's company in the city. We just don't really hang out on campus and all, obviously."
"And he's really, like, thirty?"
That pit (Y/N) had been afraid of returning began to open up in her tummy again, working like a blackhole as it tried to suck her in from the inside out. "Yeah, his birthday was a couple of months ago."
"Wow," Isla said simply, brows raising over her eyes, "I had no idea. I didn't even know you liked older guys. Or, that there were any actually cute ones around here that were willing to date college girls."
Just as (Y/N) was about to explain that while his age was something she found attractive, she wasn't necessarily into 'older guys', she was into Harry, Isla cut her off with a bubbling gasp that fed into a set of laughter.
"You didn't meet him on one of those sugar daddy sites, did you? Because I've always wondered if they worked, and if you did meet him on one you need to tell me which one because I need to try."
While she knew Isla was only trying to play around, (Y/N) didn't know what to say and knew she wasn't hiding it that well. She was sure Shelly or Seline had the same phrase—sugar daddy—running through their head when they realized her relationship to Harry, but neither of them had said it out loud. There was nothing inherently wrong with those kinds of arrangements, especially when everyone was happy and willing, but to have her love for Harry be reduced down to a relationship based on favors and cash hurt (Y/N) more than she realized it could. She would never use Harry for his money or take advantage of the fact he had the means to take care of her in places where she couldn't. That was never something she ever considered when she met him, or that ever crossed her mind still.
"Oh my god, (Y/N), I'm so sorry, that's not how I meant it at all," Isla rushed out as soon as she realized her mistake, her hands out between them as if she could wipe her comment out of thin air, "I just realized how that sounded, but I promise I didn't mean it like that, at all! I know he's your actual boyfriend, and its not like that at all. I was only trying to joke around, I'm sorry!"
"It's okay, it's okay," (Y/N) said, trying to soothe the situation as best she could and hopefully get Isla's volume down before someone overheard her, "I know you were only joking, I just wasn't expecting it, that's all."
"Are you sure?" Isla edged, features molded into an apology.
"Totally," (Y/N) pressed, "Don't worry about it, okay? It's not a big deal." The blackhole in (Y/N)'s stomach would love to beg to differ, though.
"Okay," Isla accepted with a reluctant smile, "Its cool if I tell my roommate that its true then? About you and Shelly's boss and all?"
In this moment, (Y/N) would rather die than have more people know about her relationship status and the opinions that went along with it, but there was no use in stopping it now. "Yeah, of course. Just let her know we didn't meet on a sugar daddy site, so I have no idea how legit those are."
Her comment drew a laugh out of Isla's lips, finally easing her from her faux-pas. "Thanks, (Y/N). Sorry to bother you, again."
As Isla stood from her borrowed seat, (Y/N) shook her head. "Its totally fine."
After sharing quiet goodbyes, (Y/N) was left alone again with Isla settling in her typical post towards the front of the room. Pushing her headphones back into her ears, (Y/N) wanted to resume where she was at in her assignment, but couldn't find the spot in her brain to concentrate. Her outline no longer seemed useful with all of her previous work feeling like it was for naught now that she couldn't concentrate for the life of her.
She knew her resolve was fragile when she made her peace with those comments she heard on Monday, but she didn't know it was this fragile.
Not only had she been branded a teenage stalker, but she was now a sugar baby using Harry for his money—two things that had been shared with her in less than a week. The thread holding her sanity together was moments away from snapping if someone shared one more thought about her relationship.
With another fifteen minutes left of class, (Y/N) just decided pack it up for the day. There was no way she was going to get any work done at this point, too much else on her mind to even begin to focus on her story. With her headphones in and bag slung over her shoulder, (Y/N) made her way out of the lecture hall with a wave over her shoulder to Isla.
The cool air outside did some good for her as she tried to clear her mind, feeling a little less trapped in the pit in her stomach with so much space around her in the quad. Now that she was alone, (Y/N) felt the urge for her eyes to fill with tears she'd been holding back for days.
She was just so frustrated, and, god, her feelings were hurt. Why she had to field questions about the validity of her relationship at all was something she didn't understand. Then to add that the three opinions she was given this week weren't the most kind of comments that have ever been shared with her, she wanted to scream with the frustration in her bones.
Yes, Harry was older than her, and that was where she needed the conversation to stop. She didn't need to hear about how she had been mistaken for being someone's daughter that held misplaced affection for Harry. She didn't need to explain that no, they didn't meet on a dating site with the express purpose of setting up arrangements between wealthy men and girls like herself. Everything extra she had to field and explain was pushing her into that dark, weeded corner in the back of her mind.
Making it to her car, (Y/N) didn't have the strength to hold back her tears anymore. The tint of her windows shielded the glimmer of her tears as they fell down her cheeks, tracking through the light layer of makeup she applied that morning. Her lungs squeezed as she tried to breath through her sobs the same way her fists did at her sides.
They'd only been together for a little over half a year, and just barely scratched the surface of the kind of comments (Y/N) feared they would get until she was old enough that people didn't notice the gap between them. How much longer could she do this, if she was now sobbing in her car after only a couple of days worth of off-handed comments.
Without much forethought, (Y/N) reached for her phone and pulled up Harry's contact.
i think that bug i had is coming back :( I felt a little better yesterday but today's been really hard so I don't think it would be a good idea to hang out tonight h im sorry:( I don't want to get you sick:(
She locked her phone before she could see if he was crafting his own reply back or even read the message. She needed to be alone tonight, and that was all (Y/N) let herself focus on as she drove back home.
Coming out of his meeting, Harry couldn't help but let his shoulders fall as he looked at (Y/N)'s text. She still wasn't feeling well? From what she told him yesterday, she was just about good as new.
There was no way he was going to let her get away with a third day in a row of not feeling well without stopping by or doing his part to help her feel better.
Typing out a quick reply, Harry told her he was sad to hear she still wasn't feeling good and that he missed her immensely as he mapped out his stop to the shops before rerouting himself to her apartment after he was done with work for the day. She didn't deserve to care for herself when he was perfectly capable of at least making her some dinner and helping her get to bed.
And, call him selfish, but Harry couldn't wait to see her again.
Armed with a plastic bag containing the ingredients to his favorite chicken soup his mom used to make him when he was young, and a bouquet of flowers he hoped would brighten her day, Harry knocked on the door to (Y/N)'s apartment. That familiar shuffling sound on the other side of the door sounded through the wood as he awaited her, a grin poking at he edges of his lips at the idea of finally seeing her again for the first time since Monday.
By the time she opened the door with a creak, Harry's smile dropped as soon as it formed.
(Y/N)'s eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, lashes bundled together in the fresh wetness that had seeped form her tear ducts. She halfway hid behind the door, peering at him with a quiver in her lip as she avoided his gaze.
"What are you doing here?"
While that wasn't exactly the greeting he had been hoping for when he decided to come over, he figured he shouldn't have set his standards up so high knowing that she was feeling sick. He had just hoped she hadn't felt so ill she had to cry over it.
"Oh, sweetheart," Harry crooned as he gazed at her, taking a careful step forward with the toe of his boot edging over the threshold, "How are y'feeling?"
"I'm alright," she sniffled, running a heavy hand through her hair, "I thought I told you I couldn't see you tonight."
"I know, I jus' couldn't live with myself if I didn't come help you even a little. I brought some soup for you." The flowers he had bundled against his chest tickled underneath his chin as he readied to take over her kitchen for the night.
When she hesitated and dropped her gaze to the floor, Harry felt his gut drop.
"I think you should go home, Harry."
The nasal tone of her voice accompanied the wobble of her lower lip as she spoke, her eyes flooding with a new set of tears.
Reaching out with a reluctant hand, Harry reached for her as he tried not to step through the door no matter how badly he wanted to hold her. He didn't want to overwhelm her.
"Sweetheart, I don't mind that you're sick, 's alright. Jus' let me take care of you, you're worrying me," he pressed. Just as his hand grazed her cheek, (Y/N) took a step back from him, widening the gap between them that was beginning to feel like a trench.
The way (Y/N) looked up at him afterwards told him she was just as surprised that she had distanced herself. Harry didn't know what was worse: (Y/N) deliberately taking a step away from him when he tried to touch her, or her moving out of the way on instinct, her subconscious keeping him from touching her?
"Harry, I-I think I need to be alone tonight."
"(Y/N), really. I don't mind taking care of you, you kno—"
"I'm not sick, Harry! I just... Let me be alone."
Harry stood stock-still, shocked by her outburst. The way she curled up on herself afterwards, recoiling form her own words, could have broken his heart if it wasn't already on its way to being shattered from her second request for him to leave.
"You're—I thought," Harry floundered, his hand with his bouquet of flowers dropping limply to his side, "Y'told me y'haven't been feeling well since Monday."
Another heavy hand moved its way through her hair, a tug being administered to her scalp. "I know I did, I'm sorry. I just didn't know if I could talk to you af—"
(Y/N) was cut off by the sound of her neighbour's door opening, a blonde haired girl walking down the hall with an awkward smile stretched on her face as she realized what she had just walked into. (Y/N) reciprocated as much as she could until her neighbour disappeared down the length of the staircase, that was when her smile dropped again.
He knew she was feeling embarrassed as she stepped off to the side, widening the berth of the door for Harry to fit through. She gestured for him to step inside, though it lacked every bit of enthusiasm that he had grown accustomed to when he visited her. With the plastic bag crinkling at his side and the bouquet of flowers rustling in the wax paper they were wrapped in, Harry stepped through the threshold of her door, her apartment almost completely silent.
Standing by awkwardly, Harry waited as she locked her door after him and padded her way to her living room where he stood. Swallowing around the lump in his throat, Harry glanced down at the flowers in his grasp.
"These are for you, by the way," he murmured, offering her the bundle of white magnolias.
With her gaze attached to the flowers, Harry watched as (Y/N)'s eyes welled up with a new batch of tears. She peeped out a thank you as she pulled the arrangement from his hand, padding off to her kitchen while Harry stood in silence.
He didn't know what she was about to tell when her neighbor interrupted them, but he almost didn't want to know. Knowing that she hadn't been ill and was using that as an excuse to avoid him was enough to have him on edge already, he didn't want to know why she had been avoiding him in the first place.
Relenting himself to sit on her couch, sinking into the stuffed cushion, Harry sat with his chin in his hand and elbows digging into his thighs. It felt like hours as he listened to her pull a vase from her cabinet, followed by the running water for the flowers. Normally he would be there helping her, teasing her as she reached for the vase and helping her arrange the blossoms in the water so every stem could take a dip. Not today, Harry guessed, he wasn't needed.
When she finally joined him, (Y/N) took a spot on the opposing chair set up in her living room, the stiff decorative pillow taking up most of the cushion as she sat on the edge. Shifting his chin in his hand, he gazed at her through his lashes as he waited for her to finish what she started.
As the silence stretched on, Harry felt more and more cracks appear in his heart. He couldn't take much more of this, especially when she couldn't even muster the courage to look at him. What did she need to tell him that was so bad she couldn't even look at him for a second?
Dropping his face into his hands, Harry slid his fingers through his curls, a startling pinch being delivered to the roots as he tightened his grip. "Why didn't y'want to talk to me, (Y/N)? What happened?" he grumbled out.
A sniffle sounded from the chair, but he didn't have the heart to look up. It would only make it harder to hear what she had to say if he had to watch her cry, too.
"Harry, I—" (Y/N) cut herself off, her thought dropping from her tongue before she had even bothered to finish putting it together, "I don't know how to tell you."
Something bubbled in his chest as he heard her hesitance to speak to hm still, even as he sat right in front of her. Frustration welled up in his system. How was he supposed to make anything better, fix his mistakes that led to her avoiding him, or make her at least stop crying when she wouldn't even tell him what was wrong?! How was he going to have a chance to save them from whatever had dug itself in her mind when he had no idea what he was up against?!
Forcing a deep breath into his lungs, Harry shuttered his eyes as he kept his head down in his hands. The heels of his palms dug into his eyes as he waited, giving her one last chance to say anything before he would take over.
With the sound of his blood rushing through his ears, Harry unclenched his jaw, "Start with why y'wanted to avoid me so bad y'pretended to be sick for almost three days."
"It's not that simple, H—"
"Then, what happened?! What did I do wrong?! You jus' keep sitting there, crying, but y'wont tell me what I did wrong or how to fix it!"
By that point, Harry was grateful for the fact his eyes were closed as he pulled his head from his hands, chancing a look up at (Y/N) though that view was quickly distorted by his own round of tears that flooded his vision. Sniffing his nose, Harry scrubbed his hands over his eyes to rid himself of the tears, still too frustrated to worry about them when (Y/N) still hadn't explained.
With her fingers a nervous bundle in her lap, (Y/N) broke with her bottle lip wobbling and eyes closed as if to stave off another round of crying. "It was when I vi-visted you at work."
Nodding his head, Harry took in deep breaths, already regretting the way he snapped at her. "Okay, thank you," he started, softening his tone as he gave her to the full of his attention, "What happened?"
(Y/N) shook her head as she ran her hand through her hair, rolling her eyes at herself. "It wasn't even that big of a deal, so I don't know why it's bothering me so bad," she rushed out, voice wobbling, "It was just... Seline? That receptionist on the lobby floor?"
Harry nodded his head, beginning to worry at the mention of Seline. She could be a bit cold, that much everyone at the office knew.
"She—I don't know, it was just weird when I talked to her. I know I wasn't on your permission list or whatever since I was surprising you, but she said something after she figured out that I was there to see you that's just stuck with me." (Y/N) swallowed, her eyes still facing the ceiling as Harry waited on her, his fingers prattling with his rings. "She... She said she didn't want to let me up at first because she wasn't sure if I was a daughter of one of your clients, coming to visit Mr. Styles after getting too attached over a busy dinner."
Rolling his lips between his teeth, Harry nodded his head. Sounded like Seline, that was for sure.
(Y/N) finally chanced a glance down at him then, feeling somewhat more calm now that she was getting everything out that had been rattling her brain for almost three days now.
"Then," she continued, surprising Harry as he had just began devising some kind of plan to keep Seline from being so rude to people in the waiting area, "I didn't realize that the Shelly on your floor was someone I go to school with." Harry sighed as he figured out where this was going. "She was really surprised to see me," (Y/N) muttered, fluttering her lashes as she tried to keep her waterworks at bay, "As soon as I told her I was your girlfriend, she got kind of weird and told me she didn't expect your girlfriend to be someone like me. When I asked her what she meant, she brought up this professor that used to work at my school, that everyone thought was really pretty, and was around your age, obviously. It wasn't that bad but after what I heard from Seline, it didn't really help.
"And then, today, I guess Shelly got brunch with the roommate of a girl in my creative writing class, and they apparently talked about how I'm dating Shelly's thirty year old boss, and the girl in my class asked if I met you on a sugar daddy website."
Now, that stung. The other two comments she shared with him hurt him for the fact it was hurting (Y/N), cheap shots taken at their relationship that questioned the depth of it just because of the gap between their ages. But this one—the implication that their relationship was nothing more than Harry giving out money and gifts in exchange for (Y/N)'s company—took a stab at his heart.
Harry knew what a relationship would look like to others the second he took a liking to (Y/N). That was why, other than wanting to maintain (Y/N)'s happiness and comfort in her friend group, he didn't pursue her. He knew that someone of his age and position financially wasn't supposed to mix with a college-age girl that had piled on student loans and worked as much as she could on the side to help pay for school. He knew that those two things could invite people to make comments or pull faces, he knew that. But, maybe they had just been lucky with how well it was going beforehand; their friends didn't mind, never once making a comment or raising a brow at the idea of the two of them together, along with his family being so supportive when he divulged details about his (Y/N), and even strangers on the street didn't give them a second glance. They had been successfully missing any of these comments up until this point, and, of course, it was (Y/N) who had to endure them.
If he hadn't already felt like shit for yelling at her earlier, now he felt like he should go sit on the curb with the rest of the trashbins.
Rising from his position on the couch, Harry moved to crouch in front of (Y/N). Instinctively, she spread her legs wide enough to allow him access to sit between. Settling his hands on either of her thighs, he waited on her to return to her living room with him, leaving the dark space of her head behind.
"(Y/N)?" he murmured, squeezing the full of her flesh in his palms, "Look at me, love."
Running her fingertips under her eyes, (Y/N) cleared her tears away before she looked down at him, her bottom lip trembling though she tried to hold it all back. "I'm sorry, Harry."
"Hey, hey," he crooned, shaking his head, "Don't need to be sorry, okay? Don't need to apologize for what they said."
"B-But, I shouldn't have stopping seeing you or talking to you over it," she countered, dropping her gaze to her lap though she didn't dare lace her fingers between his like she usually did, "I just didn't know what to do. I started to feel guilty."
"What do you mean, pretty girl? Guilty over what?"
"Li-Like I was holding you back or something," she whispered, the volume of her voice being the only thing that kept it from breaking, "I-I don't want you to mi-miss out on someone who might fit you better. Or, at least be able to handle something like this without avoiding you."
Harry shook his head as he stood to his feet, reaching for her hands that were bundled into a fumbling mess as she kept them from grabbing for his. Wrapping his fingers around her wrists, he pulled her to stand up before he replaced himself in her seat. The decorative pillow was crushed under his weight, becoming an uncomfortable lump under his bottom but Harry didn't pay it any mind as he pulled (Y/N) to sit in his lap. Her legs hung over the side of his own, her shoulder pressed against his chest as he looped his arms around her, interlocking his fingers as they rested on her hip.
"You've got to listen to me, (Y/N), 'kay?" Harry waited until he got a small nod from her, eyes meeting his through the frame of her lashes. "There's no one out there that could fit me better than y'do, do you hear me? I had some extra time before I ever even met you to meet this better fit, and I've never found anyone that comes close to the way y'make me feel. There's no one out there that would love me better than y'can, and I know that. Don't feel guilty over something that doesn't exist."
"No, I told y'to listen to me, didn't I?" Harry stopped her, unwilling to hear her make up fake scenarios about someone who didn't exist. "It hurts knowing that these comments made y'want to avoid me, but I understand why because I understand you. Y'weren't trying to hurt me, y'jus' wanted some time to yourself to be a little mopey and figure it all out before y'saw me again—I understand. Right?"
"Yeah," she peeped, her cheeks heating and eyes watering as she listened to him, "I didn't mean to hurt you, Harry."
"I know, I know," he murmured, dropping a careful kiss to her cheek, his heart eased when she didn't flinch away. "And 'm not upset now that I know, okay? Don't need to be sad over that. And, 'm sorry I yelled at you; I got scared when y'wouldn't say anything, but I shouldn't have done that. We're a team and teams don't work when one of us is being mean." The small nod and I forgive you, that (Y/N) gave him allowed for a short smile to carve into Harry's lips before he grew serious. "I jus' need y'to be honest with me for a second, then."
A short nod came from (Y/N) as her hands unraveled, finally relieving Harry as she curled her fingers around his forearm to keep him close.
Swallowing, Harry tried to figure the best way to phrase any of his questions. "Do you...Did any of what these people said make y'doubt being with me?"
Her answer was immediate in the shake of her head, stray strands of hair fluttering around her face, "No, no, no. I love you so much, Harry, I just want you to be happy. I don't want you to be bothered one day when you realize I'm not at the same spot as you; I don't know all of those references you make and I can't take you out for fancy dinners the way you do for me. At least not until I'm out of school."
"I don't—... None of that matters to me, okay?" he reassured her with a squeeze of his arms around her, "I don't care about any of that. I like getting to see y'grow and learn and I never expect you to pay me back for any of the things I do for you. I don't understand all of your little jokes, either, sweetheart, and I know that doesn't bother you, because you're like me in that way. We love being with each other, and that's what makes us happiest, so that's all that matters. Right?"
A watery smile worked its way on her lips as she nodded her head. "Right."
"See, sweetheart," he cooed, "As long as we're on the same page about that, we can get through anything, can't we?" He was rewarded with another short nod and quiet smile. "'M sorry that y'were the one that had to hear those things, and I want y'to know that y'never have to hide that from me again. Tell me and I'll help talk y'down, okay?"
"Good girl," he praised her, even when she couldn't speak louder than a whisper and manage a smile bigger than the one on her lips if she didn't want her features to crumble. "'M always gonna help you, jus' need y'to tell me how. Can y'promise me that?"
"I promise, Harry."
"M'best girl, aren't you?" he crooned to her, dropping his face to nudge his nose again her own. Her smile grew as she took in his words, just as he wanted. "Can I kiss you, sweetheart?" he asked her the full of his lips brushing against her own.
The quiet nod he gave him was all he needed before he pressing his lips in affectionate pecks all over her face, starting with her plush lips. With each dot of his lips over her skin, more and more bubbling giggles fell from (Y/N)'s smiling mouth, his grip on her tightening as she wiggled in his lap. The bridge of her nose was smothered in his love before he tapped over her cheeks with his lips. Her forehead wasn't spared in the carnage either, getting as many kisses as he could fit in the space until he had to drop his kisses to her eyelids. The salt of her tears was bittersweet as he tasted them on his kiss; sweet knowing that he was able to quell them, but the bitter taste lingered knowing that they started in sadness. By the time he made his way back down to her lips, she was smiling too big to pucker her lips against his.
"Kiss me back, pretty girl," he murmured, his own amusement seeping into his tone no matter how hard he tried to keep it held back.
That was all the encouragement she needed before (Y/N) was cradling his face in her hands and trying her best to kiss him through her smile. It was clumsy and off-center, not perfect by far, but it was easily one of Harry's favorite kisses he's ever shared with her. This was where all of her sweetness concentrated itself: in her kiss as she nudged her nose against his and breathed out giggles every time Harry pulled away.
"I love you," she spoke against his kiss.
"I love you too, sweetheart, always," he murmured, drawing away just enough to match his gaze to hers. "Me and you, remember?"
The mantra he had repeated to her more than once brought a bright smile to (Y/N)'s face.
"Me and you, H."
angst is always so hard for me to write so I hope everyone enjoys this! thank u sm for reading and sorry for any mistakes! if you have any ideas or requests of your own please send them in:)
An oldie but a goodie
What are they talking about?
Pairing - Harry x fem!reader
Words - 1.8K
Type - Smut
Warnings - smut, 18+, swearing, cheating, exhibition, praise, oral (f recieving), fingering and of course sexual content.
A/n - I figured I would try my hand at writing smut for the first time! Hope you enjoy.
It was so dangerous. So fucking dangerous. The Met Gala was overflowing with gossip-frenzied paparazzi just waiting for a story, fans and other celebrities. Don’t even get started on the fact Olivia and Florence were most likely looking for you and Harry. If someone were to stand too close to the bathroom, they would surely hear your whimpers and breathless pleas. Of course, you both hoped the music and people talking were enough background noise to cover up any clamor.
You had gone to the Met for your friend Florence’s new movie “Don’t Worry Darling”, packed with enthusiasm. You knew she would rock it out there, even with all the drama surrounding the film. You couldn’t lie, it had been rough. It was rough watching your friend grow to detest someone she once was a big fan of. And, it was rough seeing Harry with the woman he dumped you for, all those months before.
You had sworn to Florence that you would both show up, go bat-shit crazy with chaos then leave to get some mimosas back at the hotel. It was easy to agree to stick with Chris Pine, knowing he would lend you both some of whatever the hell he was taking. Plus the factor that he was just genuinely a cool person to be around.
But, Harry couldn’t help himself- not one bit. He couldn’t help his eyes wandering down your chest to where that satin red dress’ neckline ended. He couldn’t help but let his eyes gloss over how it hugged every beautiful curve, his mouth almost watering at the slit that went up to your mid thigh. He couldn’t believe how worked up he was getting over that bit of skin.
The same skin he used to be able to touch, kiss and bite. All just in the right way to make you a withering wreck under him.
Even with your ‘new’ best friend connected to your hip, he still thought you looked as ravishing as ever. Your lips were plumper than they were before, showcasing your perfect cupid’s bow. The dark merlot red that painted them drew him in, he had to break himself from his trance before a camera could catch it. He just knew he wouldn’t be able to survive without your angelic touch.
So, he settled with glares and pleading with his mind. After about thirty minutes of that, he excused himself from the woman who looked like a lemon for a ‘bathroom’ break. He was never really a good liar, but somehow she believed it. And that quickly turned into you squeezing Flo’s leg and telling her you’d be a few minutes. Then following a few feet behind Harry like a lost puppy looking for its owner.
You heard people passing by with each soundless step you took, heart beat escalating in your throat. The flashing of hundreds of cameras bought a new level of anxiety to rise into your abdomen- the last thing you needed was to be spotted with your ex. Especially after how things ended. Still, your feet carried you to the bathrooms where you just knew Harry would be waiting for you at. Just waiting.
Like a rabid lion stalking its unsuspecting prey, laying low just awaiting the right moment to attack.
The pink doors came into view, and you could see his laid back posture, clad in black designer. Was that Gucci? He was staring off into the opposite direction, and you paused. Was this a good idea? There was no way someone wouldn’t see one of the most famous men in the world slip into a bathroom with his ex-girlfriend.
Sadly, he turned before you could make the decision to run full throttle away. His lips turned upright, a cocky smile displaying upon his features. You never really liked that smirk, only because he would use it in arguments when he was right.
Fighting back an eye-roll, you looked over your surroundings to make sure there weren’t cameras on you. Once you decided the coast was clear you dashed over to Harry.
“Is someone in a rush?” His velvety voice asked, honey dipped british accent flooding your senses. That stupid smirk, you really wanted to slap it off him. He opened the door to the women's room and let you in first. He took into note the way your teeth sunk into your bottom lip.
“You started this, don’t turn it on me.” Your stared daggers into his soul, hoping he would get the memo. You bumped into his shoulder just to prove your annoyance, which resulted in him slamming the bathroom door. Someone definitely heard that. “How’s the old hag treating you?” You asked, staring up at him inquisitively.
He walked forward enough for your back to hit the cool tile, making a shiver run up your spine. “Just fine. But she doesn't let out those pretty noises you do.” His eyes surveyed you up and down, waiting for a reaction.
“I bet you're dreading the fact me and Florence are dating and she’s the only one who can hear my pretty noises.” His face twisted up in an expression you couldn’t quite place, maybe it was a mix of disgust and anger with a sprinkle of wonderment. Had you lied about dating Florence? Yeah, but you were feeling rather petty at that moment.
“Oh, yeah?” He rasped out, breaking the tensioned eye contact you two had held for the last five minutes. “If that was true you wouldn’t be here with me. You would’ve snuck off with her as soon as I started looking at you. Right?” He muttered his words harshly, dropping down to his knees in a quick, fluid motion. Your eyes trailed down to hold his gaze once more, his signature stare masked with a cocky and concentrated look.
With quick work, he hiked up the dress that hid your now wet black lace panties. He let out a low moan when he saw them, hoisting your leg over his right shoulder.
“Right.” You admitted breathlessly. “Just hurry this up, Harold. I need to get back to Florence.”
His jaw seemed to tense as his hand rose to steady your hips, moving his free hand to hook around the liner of your panties and tear them down your thighs. His finger started slowly, tracing a feather light line up your slit. He stopped at your clit, moving his finger in a counter-clockwise movement. His touch seemed to hardly be there.
Against yourself, you grabbed onto his hand that was steading you. He wasn’t letting you move at all to get more of what he was offering, even if that was a very little bit. “That’s my girl.” He spoke from between your legs, adding more pressure to the swollen button. He smiled at the string of whimpers that rolled off your lips and the way your hips pushed up for more. “Stay quiet, Darling.” he cooed from his placement on the floor, detaching his fingers from your clit.
He loved how he knew you would be moaning his name by the end of this night, not anyone else’s. He didn’t give a flying fuck who could hear, to be honest. He just adored how you would be reminded of his touch. The way he makes you feel. Before a whine could escape your lips, he attached his around your sensitive button. He knew what he was doing- he knew how to please you like the back of his hand.
He licked down your cunt, stopping at your entrance. He brought up two of his fingers. Dipping in and out, in and out. He brought his mouth's attention back to your clit, sucking and licking at it. He was like a starving man who hadn’t eaten for days, ravishing himself in the taste of you. “Does that feel good, Darling?” He asked, lifting his eyes to stare into yours, curling his fingers every few pumps. He got his answer from the string of pleas that crumbled from your throat, littering the bathroom walls with profanities.
Within a few moments, he felt your walls tighten around his fingers. He smiled, needing to feel you release all over his fingers. He dove straight back at your clit, sucking harshly and leaving little to no mercy. He moaned when he felt your fingers slide in his hair, pulling at the roots. Harry missed that feeling.
“Harry, so so so close.” You moaned out, thighs beginning to shake like leaves. Your fingers knitted further into his mess of chocolaty brown curls. The all too familiar heat spring in your stomach was just about to release, just needing a simple spur of words to rupture.
“Go on, cum on my hand and face Darling. Lemme wear you like a cologne.” And you did, with a shriek of his name and a hand whipping over your mouth to silence yourself. As much as you hated sneaking around and him, you would give anything for Harry to touch you like that again.
**** **** **** **** **** ****
“What the hell took you so long?” Florence asked, pouting her lip up at you. “I had to pretend to like Lemon Lady all by myself. How dare you put me through that?”
"Sorry, Flo. My tummy didn't agree with brunch." You chuckled, hoping to God she wouldn't medal further.
She hummed, looking over to Harry whose hair was still a mess. "Whatever you say babe." She looked at you then back at him. "Unless, those are your panties hanging from his pocket?"
Happy 28th day darlings ... Whatever it means
(depois q eu terminei q eu percebi q tá numa vibe chá revelação ksksk)
Delicate Point of View: Chapter Four
MASTERLIST //ASKS // TAGS //PLAYLIST
Word Count: 12.6K
CW: sex, familial issues, alcohol consumption
only took me two weeks for the new chapter, but here it is. i am very excited for you all to read it. there's a bit of insight into hera's relationship with her mother. and, of course, harry and hera loving on each other. oh, and grant starting trouble. can't wait for you to read it. as always, give me all your feedback and thoughts. love you.
Hera can feel Harry’s fingertips tracing along her face as she slowly awakens from her sleep, the light from the curtains piercing through the window, his quiet humming of a tune she can’t quite name sounding as background noise to the silence of the bedroom. Hera is nearly on top of him, she can sense it, the way her arms are tight around his midsection and her legs are slotted between his – any which way she moves, the next logical placement would be fully on top of him, hips straddling his waist. Hera wants to keep her eyes closed, to stay in this moment, where they’re alone and no one else’s judgements or opinions will be spoken out loud, and the way Harry’s fingers are tracing her so delicately, so entrancingly, she may just fall back asleep.
Hera thought she may fall back asleep, back into a blissful dream about their future life, until someone’s phone begins vibrating against the bedside table, making her fully alert and aware that it’s the morning and they have to return to reality, today. One hand is cradling her head gently, holding her to his chest, the other reaching blindly for the phone to answer it before it startles her awake.
“Yes, Jeff?” Harry rasps, his voice thick with sleep and the pressure to stay quiet, his fingertips continuing to scratch her scalp lightly, the movements gentle enough to draw her closer to sleep. Hera falls into a rhythmic breathing pattern listening to his voice and the way his heart is beating under her ear, paying close attention to everything he’s saying even though she can’t quite make out what is being said on the other end of the speaker. “I know I have rehearsal, tomorrow. Yes, I will be there. Yes, I did all that last week and emailed it to you. I know we have to discuss that. Yes, I can do a meeting tonight. I’ll be home, yeah. I’ll make it work. No, it’s not an issue. I appreciate it, I do. Okay, I’ll see you later.”
“Have to leave our little hideaway, today,” Hera says quietly, startling Harry as he lays his phone on the bedside table and his hand returns to drawing over her face. “Didn’t mean to startle you, I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Harry mutters, leaning down slightly to press a gentle kiss to her hairline. “I wanted to watch you sleep for a little bit longer.” His fingertip delicately traces the bridge of her nose, his thumb ghosting across her lips as she lays against his chest in silence, soaking in the quietness of the morning and the way it feels to be laying in his arms, once again. “I’m going to memorize you like this. Laying on me, in my clothes, in our house, beautiful as ever. Absolutely perfect, in every way.”
Hera blushes profusely, trying (and failing) to hide her face in his body, hooking her thigh around his waist and pulling herself onto his hips, her arms folded on his chest, hiding from his stare. Harry props his feet on the bed, his knees bending to push her forward on his body, a squeak leaving her lips as she slides forward, her face hovering over his. Harry’s hands find her sides, sliding beneath the shirt she took from his side of the dresser and connecting with her skin, her warm skin that welcomes the feel of his fingertips dancing along her body. Her hands slide along his shoulders, pushing her body against his crotch purposefully, a smirk pulling at her lips when he groans and tilts his head back ever so slightly, allowing her to inch forward and set her mouth against his neck, feathery kisses earning whines from his mouth.
“You’re a dream, Hera.”
“No, Harry,” Hera hums against his skin, kissing along his neck, his jaw, his cheek, inching her way closer to his ear to whisper, “Not a dream. I’m all yours. That’s reality.”
Harry’s mouth parts with a guttural moan, his body immediately sitting upright, his hands making quick work of the oversized shirt on her torso, pulling it up and tossing it onto the ground. His eyes scan over her face, searching for any signs of hesitation, only to be met with widened pupils and a sleep-coated smile, her arms tightening around his shoulders. Harry realizes, in that moment, that he has yet to kiss her this morning, to taste her sweet lips on his, and quickly closes the gap, slotting his mouth against hers. Hera fits perfectly between his lips, the smile on her face making it impossible to focus. His eyes take a mental note of everything – the freckles on her skin, the hooded eyes, the lazy smile – the anticipation of moving further down her body making him hard against her. His mouth trails along her collarbone, kissing between her breasts as his hands massage her hips, the only material stopping them from being bare against each other being the briefs they’re both wearing. His eyes meet hers from the valley of her chest, his head slowly moving to her breast, his eyes intently watching her expressions and reactions as his lips wrap around her hardened nipple, fighting to hide the smirk that wants to pull at his features as soon as her head tips back against her neck and she moans. Hera’s hands tangle in his messy curls, a stream of whiny moans leaving her lips as she begins to rock her hips against his. Harry grunts against her, releasing her from his mouth and moving to her other breast, one hand leaving her waist to play with the breast he left. Harry remembers all the things that turn her on, that make her hips work against his, that make the sweet little noises leave her throat. Harry is determined to hear all of them, to commit the sounds to memory, before they leave Holmes Chapel.
“Take these off,” Harry says against her throat, kissing where her pulse is vibrating against her skin, his thumb pulling at the waistband of the briefs she’s wearing. “Need these off of you.”
Hera doesn’t say a word, swinging her leg over his body and climbing off the bed, shimmying the briefs down her thighs quickly before walking back to the bed, her eyes fixated on the way his cock smacks against his stomach once his briefs are on the floor and the way his stomach tenses when her fingers trace along the underside. Hera and Harry’s eyes meet, and she can feel her stomach twisting with excitement as she leans down over him, kissing the head teasingly, her tongue tracing over her arousal-soaked lips, watching as his blown-out eyes follow her movements carefully.
“You’re not real,” Harry swears to himself, adjusting his body to sit against the headboard, grabbing her hands and pulling her to him, his eyes watching her movements carefully as she straddles his waist, her core hot against his thighs. “I think I’ve made you up in my head.”
Hera laughs, shaking her head, her hand wrapping around his shaft and pumping him slowly, squeezing and pulling in all the right ways, her thumb rubbing over his head teasingly. Her breath hitches in her throat when his hand slides between her thighs, fingertips slipping through her folds, collecting the arousal, and bringing it to his cock. Harry doesn’t say anything as Hera lifts herself on her knees, lining him up with her core, the heavy breathing between the two of them the only sound in the silence. Hera slowly sinks down, inch by inch, taking a moment in between to fully relax around him, her walls swallowing him as she slowly sits herself against him, a breathy moan leaving her lips at the feeling. Harry leans back slightly, daringly pressing his hand against her stomach, the whimper that leaves her mouth nearly making him burst.
Hera’s movements stall, the grinding of her hips stopping, the tensing of her walls around him tightening so much that he swears if she wasn’t sitting on him, he would’ve squeezed out of her. “Harry. Harry. Harry.”
“Feel me, honey? All the way in here?” Harry taunts, pressing a bit harder against her, wanting to hear the moans and whimpers over and over again. “Can you feel me all the way in here?” Hera continuously nods, unable to form words, all the thoughts in her hazy brain suddenly jumbled and not making sense. “Use your words, H. Tell me. Tell me what you feel.”
“Feel you everywhere,” she breathes out, her fingers gripping into his shoulders, the way her eyes are squeezing shut telling him that she’s already beginning to feel her high. “God, oh my god, you’re so –”
Harry can’t take it anymore, the breathy whines and whimpers, the way her voice is so delicate and soft but what they’re doing is so filthy. He kisses her, kissing her hard, sighing into her mouth when she begins lifting her body ever so slightly, pulling him out just enough, and bouncing against him, creating a rhythm of movements and moans to echo around the bedroom. Harry can feel her squeezing him every so often, the way she’s tightening around him, her walls pulsing around his cock. His mouth works gentle kisses along her throat, his arms tightly wrapped around her midsection, holding her to his chest. His skin is beading with sweat, his hair feeling damp against his neck and his curls clinging to his forehead, and his eyes move to Hera, photographing every detail of the way she looks on him. Hera’s fingernails digging into his back pull Harry from his daydream, his vision of her, her whimpers and shaking thighs around his waist telling her that she’s close, that’s any second now she’s going to spill over him.
Harry can feel the knot in his stomach, the way she’s clenching around him and the warmth that’s radiating between their skin, and he knows that as soon as she orgasms around him, he’s going to spill into her. “Cum, baby. Cum for me. I want it.” His filthy words and the feeling of him everywhere inside of her brings Hera over the edge, orgasming around his cock, the tightness of her walls around him milking his orgasm.
Hera immediately loosens her grip on his body, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his shoulders, laying her head in his neck and closing her eyes. Harry shimmies their bodies down, the duvet coming to wrap around them for warmth and comfort. Moving her hair, Harry kisses her cheek, smiling contently as she hums against him. “I stand by what I said, Hera. You are a dream. More than a dream, actually.”
“Is that so?”
“Very much so.”
“Can we stay here, then? In this dream of yours? I never want to leave.”
Harry sighs, kissing her shoulder and hugging her tightly against his chest. He doesn’t want to leave either. He doesn’t want to face anyone or have to explain anything. He wants it to be Hera and Harry for the rest of his life, no questions or anyone trying to get in the way (because he knows there is someone that is going to try and get in the way). He wants it to always be this simple, just loving each other and knowing how much they do. “I don’t either, but I think that if we stay here any longer, we’re going to have a very angry manager and a very nosy best friend at the door, barging in and demanding more answers than we are willing to give.”
Hera laughs breathily, nodding her head understandingly. “I think you’re right about that.” Harry puckers his lips, smiling against her when she leans in and kisses him without a second thought. Hera pulls away, cupping his cheeks and gently rubbing his skin. Harry is staring at her so intensely, she thinks her heart might burst from how loved she feels. “Did you say everything you needed to yesterday? Everything you needed to say about, you know, everything, so that we can start over. I don’t want to leave here without figuring out what we’re doing.”
“You want to start over, Hera?”
“Not entirely,” she says, brushing her fingers through his hair and leaning her forehead against his, the feeling of his fingertips drawing along her spine making her whole body feel warm. “I just, I want to be with you. I don’t want to waste any more time without you, Harry. Clearly, what we did was a mistake and shouldn’t have happened, but there’s no need to keep going back to it. I just want it to be you and me, again. I don’t want to pretend, anymore.” Hera pulls away, her fingertip drawing along the perimeter of his face, stopping for a moment at the edge of his mouth. Hera remembers doing this the first time they had sex, tracing over his face and memorizing his features. Now, it’s something Hera always wants to do, to photograph Harry in her memory. Harry’s eyes are glossy, an emerald green that shines in the sunlight. Hera would take a picture if she could. “You and me, Harry?”
“Hera,” Harry smiles, capturing her mouth in a kiss and squeezing her against him, kissing her sweetly over and over again as he says, “it’s always been you and me.”
Isla is waiting on Hera’s front steps when Harry turns off the engine of the car, a laugh leaving his lips as she stands on her feet, folding her arms in front of her chest and tapping her foot rather impatiently against the stairs. “Oh, so nice of you to bring her back, today, Harry! Thank you so much for your consideration. Not like we had an appointment for the final fitting of her dress or anything, today, or that we were meant to have the day together. You know what? You owe me. Owe me big time, actually, for everything,” she says, waving her hand towards her best friend as she makes her way out of the car and grabs her belongings from the seat, ignoring their laughter at her dramatics. Isla was always known for that, for the dramatic speeches and outbursts.
“Yeah, yeah, I know I do. Add it to my tab,” Harry laughs, shaking his head as he shuts the door. Harry walks around the front of the car, reaching out his arm for Hera as she slings her tote over her shoulder, smiling at her as she takes his hand and tucks herself into his side. “I’ll see you later, yeah? After my meeting? After you two are done for the day?” Harry leans down and kisses her cheek, whispering, “I love you,” into her ear as she nods her head accordingly.
Hera smiles, cupping his cheek and kissing him softly, only a tiny kiss to hold her over until they’re back from their appointments and their meetings are over for the day. “I love you. I’ll let you know when I’m on my way home.” Harry smiles, turning towards Isla and walking towards her, wrapping his arms around her, and laughing as she unwillingly hugs him back. “I’m with you, now, Isla. No need to be hostile to Harry.”
“Harry’s stealing you away from me, again! And you two have been back together for less than twenty-four hours,” Isla whines, sighing and wrapping her arms around him to embrace him. Harry won’t let go until Isla does – everyone knows this. “Go get to your meeting before your team starts calling you. I will make sure she is happy and well fed by the time you get back.”
“Thank you, Isla. My hero. Guard Hera with your life,” Harry laughs, turning away from her and walking to the car, pausing momentarily to look at Hera before climbing inside. “Will you send me a picture of your dress when you have it on?” Hera shakes her head firmly, folding her arms in front of her chest. “Hera, please, my love. I want to see it.”
“And you will see it,” Hera grins, shaking her head as Harry playfully threatens to walk back towards her, inching closer and closer as she points towards the car and the time on her phone screen, “at the wedding. Go before Jeff gets mad at you. I’ll see you later.” Harry drives away rather quickly, presumably seeing the time and hurrying off to make his meeting on time. Hera shakes her head, nodding towards the front door and says, “Let me drop my things and we can go. Lunch is on me, today.”
Isla nods, waiting outside as Hera hurries inside the house and lays all of her belongings on the foyer table, only grabbing her keys and wallet and walking outside. Hera immediately climbs in the car and turns on the radio, the playlist on her phone being one that Isla recognizes instantly – it was a playlist that she and Harry had made years ago. Isla takes note of everything different about Hera in that moment. Hera’s smile, the light behind her eyes, the way she’s holding herself a bit higher. Isla, arguably, hasn’t seen Hera like this in so long, that it’s refreshing to see, that it makes her happy. Isla, although she loves Grant and appreciates him as a friend, never saw the two working out in the way that Hera wanted, she always thought it was a bit soon after Harry and that Hera had never really gotten over it when they got together.
Considering that Harry and Hera disappeared together for a day, Isla assumes that she was right.
“Cut the small talk, June Bug,” Isla says suddenly, pulling Hera out of her daydream and mindless conversation about where they should eat lunch and what they’re doing for the bachelorette party. Hera looks at her confusedly, furrowing her brows and trying to understand what she’s saying. “Give me all the details of the last two days. How did you go from saying that you would go on the date with Harry at my bridal shower to breaking up with Grant to sleeping with Harry and getting back together with him? Not that I’m complaining or judging, because I haven’t seen you this happy in years, but I just need to know what the hell happened in your brain. One minute you were debating on if you would go or not and the next, I’m hearing you and Harry say, ‘I love you’ over the phone.”
Hera turns off the ignition in front of the shop, unbuckling her seatbelt and turning towards her best friend, pursing her lips together to try and say exactly what she’s thinking, what she’s been thinking over the last two days. “After we talked at your bridal shower, I went outside for some air. I was working up the courage in my head to tell Harry that I would go on the date with him. Harry found me outside, sat next to me, and we just sat there. Neither of us said anything, it was just quiet. Our arms were touching, and we were so close to each other, but so far away, if that makes sense. And I, I just told him that I would go on the date with him. Harry took me by surprise and told me that I needed to be ready the next morning, I needed to be ready by ten. I was surprised, you know, that he already had the idea in his head of what to do, and he said I should know him better by now.” Hera laughs breathily, shaking her head as she stares intensely at her nails, trying to avoid Isla’s gaze. “I couldn’t stop thinking about everything when I got home. I couldn’t stop thinking about Harry, and the feeling of being near him, and the way that if I ever wanted closure between us, I don’t think I could ever get that when I’m with Grant. I don’t know if closure would have been kissing Harry, sleeping with him one last time, anything like that. I don’t know. I’ll never know, now. I just, I didn’t want to feel guilty for needing closure, however that looked. And Grant is my friend, you know? I don’t want to hurt him by doing something I would regret.” Isla reaches over the center console and holds Hera’s hands, smiling softly to encourage her. “Grant understood. He wants me to be happy. I told Grant that I need to find what makes me happy, without him. And I think Grant and I are okay, I don’t think there’s any hard feelings, there. Maybe that’s naïve of me to think, and maybe there are, but I just needed to go into that date with Harry with a clean slate, with nothing clouding my judgement.” Isla looks at Hera and squeezes her hands. “Isla, say something. I want to know your thoughts.”
“I just,” Isla says, squeezing Hera’s hands again to encourage her to meet her stare, “I am so happy to see you this happy, again. I’m so happy that Harry showed you that house, that you two said all that you needed to. Honestly, I don’t think I would’ve been able to spend another second seeing you two wallowing over missing each other and not do anything about.”
Hera laughs, nodding her head and sticking her keys in her pocket, ready to walk in and get the dress altered. “I know, I know. I appreciate you meddling in my life, even if I don’t realize it at the time.” Isla grins, squeezing her hands and grabbing her things from the floor, climbing out of the car, and waiting for Hera to follow. Hera steps beside her, the excitement of the wedding day drawing closer beginning to fill her, the love and joy for her best friend evident on her face. “I love you, Isla. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Hera,” Isla says sternly, turning towards her and grabbing her face between her hands, the love on her face evident to Hera as she stands still in front of her, “you’ll never have to worry about that, okay? Our friendship is going to be written about in storybooks. Think about the tagline, unlikely university roommates become sisters! Can see the headlines, now. Vogue is calling for a feature. Million-dollar film waiting to happen.”
“Think so? Million-dollar film?”
“Oh yeah,” Isla giggles, gesturing for Hera to walk inside the quaint shop, their dresses hanging on a rack in the corner. Hera shakes her head and laughs, and Isla grins, feeling like for the first time in years, her best friend is back to herself. “Venice Film Festival worthy, babe.”
“Isla! How are you, dear?” Hera grins at the tiny elderly woman that shuffles out of the back, clapping her hands excitedly and reaching for the dress that she will wear in only a few weeks. Hera stares at it adoringly, and she can only imagine the reaction that Harry will have when he sees it. Isla and the elderly woman make small talk as Hera admires the dress, the satin texture and the open backing, the way her magnolia tree tattoo will be on display for all to see. Hera can imagine Harry’s hand on her back, holding her close, whispering in her ear how beautiful she looks and he much he can’t wait to dance with her. Hera’s heart swells at the thought, and she can feel her lips pulling into a smile when a squeaky voice nudges her out of her daydream to say, “Let’s get you fitted, shall we?”
Hera nods quickly, taking the hanger in her hands and walking into the fitting room, quickly peeling off her clothes and slipping the satin over her head, the thin straps hanging loosely on her shoulders, her face softening as she takes in the image of her in the dress. Hera feels beautiful, the color accentuating her skin and falling perfectly on her figure. Hera smiles to herself, imagining the way the wedding is going to go in just a few short weeks. Flying to St. Lucia with Harry, the rehearsal dinner, and the impromptu partying afterwards, the Maid of Honor speech at the rehearsal dinner, Harry’s speech at the wedding, the dancing, and the walking down the aisle. All of it feels so surreal, to be coming so soon, for the entirety of the plan she created in her head to have changed. Harry is part of her plan, now. A very big part of her plan.
“Hera! Are you ready? I need to see you!”
Hera walks out of the dressing room, holding the dress above her ankles to avoid ruining the hem, her heart beating rapidly in her chest as the two women gasp when she walks into the main room. “Harry is going to fall in love with you all over, again,” Isla grins, clapping her hands together and nearly jumping off the floor.
“You think so?”
“Trust me, Harry has no idea what’s waiting for him.”
Hera smiles, her cheeks heating at the idea of Harry in awe of her, falling in love with her all over again by seeing her in this dress, by seeing her walk down the aisle. Her heart swells in her chest, thinking about dancing the night away with him, loving on him and remembering the way it feels to be in love with him. “Over the last two days, I have already fallen in love with him, all over again. He makes it so easy.”
“Oh, I know. Anyone with eyes can see it.”
Hera shakes her head dismissively, trying to hide the way her cheeks are heating with the conversation. “Can you hand me my phone? Haven’t checked my email all day. I’m sure I have a million emails about meetings for the next few weeks.”
Isla nods and hands her the phone from the table, returning her stare to the woman hemming her best friend’s dress, talking mindlessly about last minute wedding details. Isla looks at Hera with confusion, the look of shock on Hera’s face making her concerned. “Hera? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m okay. What day is Wembley, again? The 19th?”
Isla purses her lips together, her eyebrows furrowed together in confusion as she looks to her best friend for answers to her questions. “I’ll be there for production the day before. Production is on June 17th. June 18th and 19th are show days, why? Are you sure everything’s alright?”
“Bad Bunny’s tour manager wants to meet with me, next week. On the first day of Wembley.”
Hera sighs, relief washing over her as she stands against the barricade in the back of the floor, the lanyard around her neck lying flat against her chest. Isla is in the Front of House booth, the walkie talkie clinging to her shoulder. Jeff and Tommy are standing by her side, proudly admiring the man standing in the middle of the stage, singing to a stadium filled to the brim with people cheering for him. Hera can feel her heart swelling against her ribs, the love she has for him feeling almost too much to bear. Unopened emails sit in her inbox, one in particular waiting for her to open and see what it says. Hera was nearly late today, nearly missed giving Harry a kiss before he walked on stage, because of the meeting with this team, with the tour manager that could change the trajectory of her career. Hera knew they would tell her today what their decision was, but she didn’t think it would be so soon, didn’t think it would be during the show.
Hera makes the choice to open the email when Harry walks away from their section, to read what it says and take it in stride, to accept whatever the choice was for the future of her career. Hera would have a million more opportunities if this one doesn’t happen, and her career is only just beginning. Hera knows that whatever the outcome of the email, whatever it says, nothing can take away the success and happiness that her career has brought her thus far, and what it will continue to bring.
After our meeting with Mr. Martínez Ocasio, Mr. Assad, and the team, I am very pleased to offer you the opportunity to create and contract the World’s Hottest Tour stage design. Upon your acceptance of the offer and contract (included below), you and the team can begin working on creative meetings and development ideas. Please include your schedule for the upcoming weeks and let us know when you’ll be available for both in person and Zoom meetings, and we will coordinate times accordingly.
Thank you for your time and input, and we look forward to working with you!
Hera turns around quickly, locking her phone and releasing a breath that was lodged in her throat, her hands that were covering her heart slowly falling as she smiles at the man standing beside her, his arms awkwardly reaching out to offer an embrace. Hera quickly accepts, nodding her head and stepping forward to hug him. “Hi. Glad you made it. Harry’s going to be so happy that you came.”
Grant smiles and turns towards the stage, nodding to himself before gesturing towards the crowd, the screaming around them nearly deafening. “Crazy, isn’t it? Wembley Stadium.”
“Crazy doesn’t quite explain it, I don’t think,” she laughs, shaking her head. Hera feels like every breath she takes is heavy on her chest, that she can’t take a full breath. “Are you going to Mykonos with everyone next month?”
“I think so, yeah,” Grant nods, waving towards the stage where Harry is nearly jumping around the catwalk. “You and Harry, it’s going well, yeah? Going to the rest of the tour with him, this summer? Heard about his residency, are you going?”
“Maybe. I really hope I can. I want to be there for him,” Hera shrugs, her attention travelling between Harry, Grant, and the idea of the email sitting in her inbox. “Got offered to do Bad Bunny’s tour. Once I sign that contract and start working, I have no idea what my summer will look like. I want to be with Harry, though. I just need to sort out when I’m doing what.”
“Bad Bunny, wow. June, that’s amazing!” Grant turns and immediately wraps his arms around Hera, hugging her tightly. “I am so happy for you. That’s incredible.” Grant releases Hera and returns to facing the stage. Harry is walking over, and Hera knows what song is coming next by the way he’s searching the crowd for her. “Harry must be over the moon for you.”
“Harry doesn’t know yet, actually.” Grant furrows his brow and turns his head towards Hera questioningly. “Don’t say anything to anyone, okay? I just, I want to tell Harry when I have more details on the schedule and everything. I just found out, like, as you walked over to me. Isla is the only other person that knows that I even had the meeting, today.”
“Have my word,” Grant says, holding his hands in the air in surrender. “Harry will be happy for you, that much I do know. Harry loves you.” Grant looks at Hera, a melancholy smile on his face as he watches her admire Harry from where they are, a smile permanently printed on her lips, her hand raising ever so slightly to wave at him. Harry immediately waves back, and Grant can tell that there is something between them that they never experienced in their time together. And, as much as knowing that hurts, Grant can’t deny that he’s happy for his friend, that she is feeling the happiness that he always wanted for her. “I’m happy you chose your happiness, June.”
“I am, too,” Hera says quietly, smiling softly as she admires Harry standing in front of her, his voice echoing around the stadium as he introduces the song so near to her heart. Harry smiles at her, her heart swelling against her chest as she lays her hands against her heart, swaying side to side to the hum of the music. Hera looks around, staring at the groups of people hugging and crying and singing their hearts out to a song that means so much to her, to them, and she realizes that this is much bigger than her or Harry, this is for the people that always wanted to find a family, and because of Harry, they have. Harry gave all of them, Hera included, a family to love.
Hera is in awe of Harry the entire night. His energy, the love in the air, the way that everyone around her is encouraging her to dance and sing and enjoy the show. Hera couldn’t believe that she was there, standing in the room, watching the love of her life live out his wildest dreams. Harry is magnetic, someone that truly was born to be there. Hera doesn’t think she could possibly feel prouder, more in love with the man dancing around, the one waving and sending her a comforting smile every now and then. Hera couldn’t name a time when she ever questioned Harry’s love for her, especially when they’re together, but seeing the light in his eyes and the smile on his face every time he saw her in the crowd, it made her feel like there is not another human being that could ever make her feel the way Harry does.
Hera’s thoughts are interrupted by Harry inciting the audience to begin cheering, their hooting making everyone laugh and smile with delight. “Most importantly,” Harry begins to say, the audience erupting into cheers before he can continue. “Most importantly, to each and every single one of you in here tonight, I cannot begin to explain to you what it means to play here. It means so much to me that you came out. I thank you from the bottom of my heart.” Hera’s eyes spill over with tears, the pride and love filling her body overwhelming her. “This does not happen to people like me. Thank you, whether you’ve supported me for one year, two years, five years, twelve years, whatever it is. You have changed my life, over and over and over again. I thank you. I am yours. I will never stop attempting to repay you, even the tiniest bit.”
Hera wipes her cheeks, reaching for her phone vibrating in her pocket, her heart sinking into her stomach when she reads the name on the screen. Harry’s eyes are closed on the stage, unaware of the way her entire body has tensed, and her heart is racing. Hera finds Liam as quickly as she can, the adrenaline and anxiety pulsing through her veins, and makes her way backstage, hiding in the comfort of Harry’s dressing room, her finger nervously pressing on the contact to dial back. Hera swallows thickly, her eyes travelling from the floor to the screen, watching as Harry continues dancing around the stage. Hera doesn’t want him to know what’s happening. Harry finding out would turn into a disaster.
“Nice of you to call me back, June.”
Hera’s heart stutters, the familiar, harsh voice echoing through her brain. All of the memories are suddenly rushing back to her, screaming at her failures and lack of success. Hera can remember all the bad days, all the moments where she thought she wouldn’t make it. Hera can remember everything that was ever said to her, the way her whole life, she believed she would never be loved. Hera can remember the way they spoke to her in front of Harry, the way they belittled her. Hera can remember, and she does, and it’s all coming back to her. “Hi, Mum.”
“It’s Dad’s birthday, tomorrow. Are you coming to visit? Have you given up this little ‘not speaking to us’ charade, now?”
Hera blinks, the harshness of her mother’s voice immediately bringing a fresh set of tears to her eyes. Harry walks to the back of the stage, saying something into the microphone that is connected to Jeff’s walkie, and she’s worried that he’s looking for her, that he’ll send someone to look for her. He can’t know what she’s doing in here. He’ll come off stage in a heartbeat. He won’t finish the show. Hera has to get off the phone. Hera has to get back out there. Now. “Mum, there is a reason why I don’t speak to you, anymore.”
“Yeah, yeah, because I was just the worst mother to you, I never loved you, I treated you so horribly with your education and house and clothes and everything else your father and I provided for you. Call me the worst mother alive! All your little music friends probably had much better lives and childhoods than you, hm? Is that what you think?”
Hera stands on her feet, trying to smooth out the wrinkles in her dress, before stepping in front of the mirror. Her eyes are red around the rims, tear stains her cheeks. Harry will know that she’s been crying. “Mum, I won’t do this with you. I will mail a card for Dad’s birthday.”
“Be an adult for once in your bloody life, June. Quit it with the silent treat. That is no way to treat your mother and father that raised you, that got you to where you are.”
Hera laughs resentfully, shaking her head as she takes a tissue and wipes the mascara from beneath her eyes. “Mum, you didn’t get me anywhere. It was my hard work that got me to where I am. Not you. You have never, not once, even told me that you’re proud of me. Do you know that?”
“That’s a lie. You’re lying to yourself, now, June.”
Hera clenches her fist, her hand holding the doorknob tightly as she waits for her mother to give up, to end the call and she can go back out into the stadium and listen to her love, to remember all the good that she has in her life. All that her mother says is a lie. Harry always told her that. “Mum, you don’t even pretend to like me. You, you treated me horribly in front of Harry when I brought him home. Embarrassed me in front of him like I have never been embarrassed before.”
“That’s not true, either. I treated you fine. It is not my fault that your behavior was embarrassing to you in front of your boyfriend. Harry is a very nice man. He is too good for you. It is not my fault that he could see that after you brought him home.”
“Mum, you told Harry to break up with me! That I’m too much work! That I’ll be too clingy when he’s on tour! Called me a whore, to my face. You have never treated me fairly or right. Especially that night. How could you think Harry liked you after that? Are you crazy?” Hera can feel the stinging tears spilling over her cheeks, shaking her head, and gripping her phone so tightly that she feels like it might crack in her hands. “Goodbye, Mum. Have a nice life. Leave me alone. I don’t want anything to do with you.”
Hera quickly hangs up the phone, reaching for a pillow on the couch and screaming into it, the tears falling down her cheeks too quick for her to wipe away. Quick knocks on the door make her take a breath, a moment to realize what she’s doing. “One second!”
“Hera? It’s me,” Isla sighs from outside the door, wiggling the doorknob impatiently. “Are you okay? I saw you run out. You only get that way when, you know. Do you want to talk about it?”
Hera shakes her head, wiping her cheeks and sucking in a deep breath, trying to regain control of her emotions and her thoughts. Isla knows, which means Harry is going to know. “I’m fine! I’ll be out in a second.”
“Hera, Harry knows you’re not out there. He wants to know if you’re okay.”
“I’m coming out, now,” Hera says quietly, grabbing her phone and unlocking the door, walking out of the dressing room and immediately welcoming Isla’s arms around her, hugging her tightly and allowing the quiet tears to fall down her cheeks. “Is Harry almost off? I need to get myself together before anyone sees me.”
“Hera, it’s okay to be upset. Harry will understand.”
Hera doesn’t see Harry rush backstage, his eyes meeting Isla’s, only making out the word, “mother” before shaking his head and walking towards them, barely making out Hera saying, “I don’t want to ruin what a wonderful night Harry just had by drudging up all this, Isla. I don’t want to do that to him.” Hera sucks in a deep breath, trying to steady her breathing, but all she wants is to be in Harry’s arms.
Harry sighs, shaking his head and walking forward, laying his hand gently on her back. “Hera, my love.” Hera shakes her head, turning around and hiding her face in his neck, her hands gripping around his shoulders, his arms instinctively circling her waist and holding her tightly against his chest. “My heart, what happened? Talk to me.”
“Nothing, I’m okay,” Hera whispers, although the way her arms tighten around his body tell Harry something vastly different. “Tonight was incredible, Harry. I am outstandingly proud of you. I love you.”
“Hera,” Harry sighs, gently coaxing her face out of his neck and rubbing her cheeks with his thumbs. Nodding towards his dressing room, Harry leads the way inside, shutting the door behind him for privacy. Hera immediately sinks into his embrace, his heart breaking for his love as she hides in his chest. “Honey, tell me what happened. Hate to see you this upset. Can you tell me what’s wrong? Can’t fix it if you don’t tell me.”
“I don’t want to ruin your night, Harry. I just need a minute to get myself together and I’ll be okay. I promise, I will. I won’t embarrass you. You just lived out your biggest dream.”
“Hera,” Harry says sternly, grabbing her face in his hands, his eyes welling with tears as he stares at her, the brokenness on her features making his heart ache in his chest, “you have never embarrassed me. Not once. I love you so much. You are the dream. You are the thing that makes me happiest. All of this? This is just part of that dream. I just, whatever that woman has to say to you, whatever she wants to believe. That is not you. That is not my girl. They know nothing about you, Hera. That’s not family. All those people in the hallway, all the people that want to celebrate tonight with you, that want to talk about how your meeting went today, that want to be with you – that is your family. Me, I am your family.”
Hera sighs as Harry’s thumbs wipe away the tears on her cheeks. His hand moves away from her cheek, his fingertips beginning to trace around the outside of her face, his mouth peppering tiny kisses on her skin. “Don’t memorize me like this. Not when I’m crying and ruining your night.”
“Not what I’m doing, and you’re not ruining my night. Could never do that. Memorizing the way you are in my arms to finish the best night of my life in the best way. Memorizing the way it’s only you and me, right now, you and me, always. I love you, Hera.” Harry nudges his nose against hers, barely kissing her mouth. “I just, I need you to know that I love you.”
Hera’s eyes meet Harry’s, and with the way he’s staring at her, there’s no way she couldn’t believe him and every word he’s saying to her. Hera swallows the tears itching at the back of her throat and tilts her head slightly, kissing Harry’s lips sweetly. Her fingertips trace over the bridge of his nose, “I want to memorize you like this. Minutes off the biggest show of your career. Hair in your face. Coming to find your upset girlfriend hiding in your dressing room. Memorizing the love of my life. Memorizing why I’ve fallen in love with you all over again.”
“Love of your life?” Harry smirks, squeezing his arms tighter around her waist, his forehead leaning against hers, his mouth inching closer and closer to hers for a kiss. “Fallen in love with me all over again? Is that so? Tell me again. Tell me again, honey.”
“Harry,” Hera giggles, her arms tightening around his shoulders as Harry slowly walks their bodies backwards, his hands holding her hips to lift her onto the vanity before inserting himself between her thighs. “Harry, everyone is going to look for us. I already know where you’re going with this. Keep your hands to yourself until we get back to your house.”
“How am I supposed to do that when you just told me that you fell in love with me all over again, tonight? How would any man possibly keep their hands to themselves? Honestly, that sounds like a torture technique to me, honey.” Hera laughs, grabbing his cheeks and bringing him in to kiss her. Harry smiles against her, kissing her cheek and squeezing his arms tighter around her body. “There’s that laugh. Oh, I have missed that sound all day.”
“Harry, you heard me laugh this morning!”
Harry takes Hera’s chin in between his fingertips, his nose nudging against hers, stealing a light kiss from her mouth before taking a step away, grabbing her hands and holding them out in front of her. Harry drags her towards him, backing towards the door, the sound of everyone’s laughter filtering through the walls. “And believe me, Hera, going hours without your sweet laugh is far too long without it. My personal form of honey. Need to have it every day, for my health.”
“For your health? Is that right?”
“Oh yeah. Completely. Got told by my doctor that he thinks that you are the only thing that can cure me on a bad day.”
Hera grins, circling her arms around Harry’s waist as he turns around and walks towards the door, her hands squeezing his hips as she kisses the back of his neck lovingly. “Thank you.”
Harry smiles, squeezing her hands around his waist. His hand holds the doorknob, ready to twist it open, turning around momentarily to look Hera in the eyes and say, “I love you, and I can’t wait to have you on the road with me. Going to be exactly what we need.”
Hera is grateful that Harry turns around and open the dressing room door, the mass of people crowded in the hallway ready to congratulate him cheering and shouting and calling his name. Hera releases the breath that she was holding in her lungs, the anxiety of having to tell him about what is really happening in a few short months beginning to eat away at her nerves. Hera would tell Harry soon, preferably after the wedding, and they would sort out their schedules and how they would see each other over the next few months. Her heart is in her throat as she talks to their friends and family and celebrates the night with him, the biggest concert of his career, all while hiding such a significant secret.
Hera would work this out with Harry, they will work this out.
Harry’s arm is hanging over the back of Hera’s chair, his fingertips rubbing her shoulder as she stares at the speech written on her phone. Harry primarily slept on the flight to St. Lucia, trying to recover from the back-to-back shows and flying home to Hera on the lone day off, while she wrote the speech in her notes. Hera’s schedule has been filled to the brim between the wedding, meetings, and trying to organize all the blueprints for the tour stage, that this was the only time she had to write all her thoughts into a speech. Hera made Harry listen to it at least six times, each time reassuring her that it would be perfect, that anything she would have to say about her best friend would be exactly right.
Hera doesn’t feel so sure about it, right now, though, as she’s getting ready to stand from her seat at the table and gather everyone’s attention on her, introducing herself (although nearly ninety percent of the audience she’s speaking to have known her for a decade) and giving the speech that is going to be remembered (and recorded) for a lifetime. Hera swallows thickly, her hands rubbing together with anxiety, her heart beating rapidly in her chest. Hera puffs out a breath, turning her head towards Harry as he leans his head towards her, his mouth next to her ear.
“Breathe, my heart, it’s okay. I can feel you holding in your breaths, Hera,” Harry says quietly, rubbing her shoulder and kissing her cheek. “Isla is going to love your speech. Everyone will.”
“Okay, yeah, you’re right,” Hera nods, standing from her seat, smoothing out the baby blue dress covering her body, the ties on her shoulder hanging loosely around her arms. Harry stares at her in awe, smiling brightly as she leans down and kisses him sweetly, ignoring the intense stares that are being felt from across the table. Hera makes eye contact with Isla, smiling softly at her and walking towards the front of the room, giving her a warm hug before opening her phone and taking a breath. Hera’s been preparing for this for months, for weeks. This is going to be easy.
“Welcome, everyone,” Hera introduces, trying to steady her breathing and share a smile as she looks around the hall. Genesis and Lou, Isla’s mother and father, and Valentina, Isla’s younger sister, are circled around the first table, smiling brightly at her. Grant, Sarah, and Mitch, and a few of Beau’s closest friends and family are talking quietly amongst themselves. Harry is staring intently at her, nodding reassuringly as she looks to him for support. Harry smiles at her, mouthing, ‘Go ahead.’ Hera swallows her nerves and sucks in a breath, gently clinking a spoon against her glass of champagne. “Hi, everyone. Thank you so much for joining us, tonight and this weekend, for Isla and Beau’s wedding. My name is Hera or June, depending on who you are and when we met,” she waits a moment for the quiet giggles to end, “and I have the honor of being Isla’s Maid of Honor for this special night. Actually, it has been my privilege to be Isla’s best friend for the last twelve years.” Hera avoids looking at Isla, because she knows her best friend, and she knows that she’ll already be in tears just by that statement alone. “Isla and I met on the very first day of university, as we were randomized roommates moving into the last available dormitory. I was moving in alone, that day, and Genny and Lou were carrying in boxes for all of Isla’s things. Our day hadn’t even begun, and Isla was introducing herself to me, wrapping me in the tightest hug she could muster, telling me that I just made a new best friend, that we were about to be inseparable. Isla said this without even knowing my name. I must’ve looked at her like she was crazy. And I’ve never told you this, Isla, but the reason I looked at you this way wasn’t because I was caught off guard or because I was intimidated,” she swallows and looks to her best friend, “it’s because no one had ever wanted to be my best friend before you.”
“And Isla was right, as she usually is, just so you know. Isla and I were inseparable, from the moment we unpacked to the moment we graduated and moved into our first apartment together in a very sketchy part of London, it was Isla and Hera against the world.” Hera can hear Isla sniffling at the table in front of her, but instead of looking at her and threatening her own tears, she continues. “Isla and I did maybe too many things together. Firstly, Isla and I lived together, which means that many things that are usually off the table are now on the table. Many things. Next, Isla and I travelled and worked on the same tours together, which means that we’re living on the same tour bus, staying up late together, working together at all hours of the night. And so, going on a date together didn’t really seem all that out of the ordinary, you know? Making a very long story short, Isla and I went to a Halloween party in Los Angeles and while I was stupidly flirting with my date, Isla was drunkenly cleaning beer from her body in the bathroom, so we thought. Until she never came back, and we started searching everywhere for her – the bathroom, the garden, the quiet lobby. Much to my surprise, though, my date texted me telling me that he found Isla in the corner of the party, very happily kissing her soon to be husband. And the rest is history.”
“I, I haven’t had many people to admire in my life. Most of my life, I was quite lonely, and I thought that that was just how it is. Until I met you, Isla. Isla, you taught me what it means to have a friend, to be a friend. You are simply the best person I know, inside and out. You love like there’s no tomorrow. You’re kind. You’re compassionate. I admire the hell out of you, Isla. And I always hoped that you would find someone to cherish you in the way you deserve, that would love you so unconditionally, because that’s how you love everyone. And you have.” Hera smiles and turns to Beau. “From the moment I met you, Beau, you have brought so much light and love into my best friend’s life. Cared for her, listened to her, loved her. You make her laugh. Never once have I doubted that you would be the perfect person for her, and I admire you for that. I know that you and Isla will have the happiest life together, that you’ll love each other unconditionally, and always be there for each other. I admire you both for that.” Hera lifts the champagne flute and smiles, “To Isla and Beau, may you have the type of marriage and love and life that we always admire. I love you.”
Isla immediately stands from her chair, walking over to Hera and wrapping her in the tightest hug humanly possible, their hands squeezing each other tightly. “I love you so much, June Bug.”
Hera kisses Isla’s cheek, turning around and wiping underneath her eyes before grabbing her champagne, walking back to the table where Harry is waiting with a bright smile on his face. His hands immediately hold her cheeks, grabbing her face to kiss her mouth sweetly and whisper, “I am so proud of you.” Hera, for a moment, forgets that there are fifteen other people in the room, only thinking about Harry and his hands on her face and the fact that they’re there together.
“Not too much? Thought it was an okay speech? I’m sure yours will be better than mine, tomorrow, but I wanted to be thoughtful, to mean something to Isla.”
“Hera, my love,” Harry softens, saying only to her, rubbing his thumb against her cheekbone, leaning forward to kiss the crease between her eyebrows soothingly, “it was perfect, really.” Hera sighs, turning in her chair slightly to face their friends, Harry’s hands leaving her face and wrapping around her shoulder comfortingly.
Hera and Harry slowly settle into a routine with their friends, talking quietly amongst themselves about Mitch and Sarah’s baby, about what touring is like this year, about all the tours going back on the road in the future. Harry tightens his grip around Hera’s shoulder, carefully noticing the way Grant is watching her every move, studying her as though to look for a moment where he could engage with her. Hera seemingly doesn’t notice, taking more to her conversation with Sarah and Mitch than anything, but Harry does, and he doesn’t like the way he continuously finds a way to dig at the idea of Harry being away from her for such an extended length of time.
“Hera and I will be together a majority of the summer and fall,” he says suddenly, breaking the silence as they quietly eat their dinner, earning a warning glare from Mitch and a worried look from Sarah. “Not much to worry about there.” Harry’s thumb rubs Hera’s shoulder, but suddenly the air has shifted, and everyone is tense.
“Ah, I see. Change of schedule, then, huh, June?”
Hera tenses, her muscles tightening and jaw clenching as she stares at Grant pleadingly. Harry notices quickly, turning to Hera and giving her a questioning stare. Grant goes to open his mouth, and before he or Harry can say anything, Hera is saying, “Grant,” sternly, a warning for him not to continue. “Grant, don’t.”
“Continue, actually,” Harry says, pulling his arm away from Hera and grabbing his drink, taking a long swig of the whiskey before setting it down. Hera can feel the tension, a thick wall building between their bodies as they sit inches away. “I’m interested in what you have to say.”
“Hera was offered a job with Bad Bunny’s tour,” Grant says smoothly, his eyes locked with Harry’s, taking a sip of his drink as they stare at each other, their mouths pulled into the harshest lines. “Have a friend who’s working it, and they leave for tour at the beginning of August.”
Harry nods his head slowly, swallowing any of the words that he wants so desperately to say. He wants to yell at Grant, for ruining the mood of the night. He wants to yell at Hera, for not telling him about such a big opportunity. He wants to yell into the void, for being in this mess at all. Harry turns to Hera, lowering his voice and trying to sound calmer than he is, “How long have you known?”
“My meeting with their team was the reason I was nearly late to Wembley,” Hera says quietly, her hands twisting on her thighs nervously. Harry sets his drink on the table, grabbing her hands, squeezing them lightly to encourage her to continue. Harry’s frustrated, yes, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to give her a reason to think things are worse than they are. “I’m so sorry, Harry. I’ll explain everything. I didn’t intend on keeping it from you, there was just so much going on between tour and the wedding and us, and just –”
“Okay.” Harry turns around in his seat, ignoring the stares from Sarah and Mitch, purposefully avoiding meeting Hera’s eyes. Harry’s hands stay to himself for the remainder of dinner, in and including when their best friends call the two to the front of the room to say their gratitude for all the extra details that they worked on every day leading up to the big day. Hera and Harry smile and embrace their friends, thanking everyone for joining them and wishing everyone a good night’s rest to prepare for the day tomorrow. “Have one more surprise, for Beau and Isla, though,” Harry says with a smile, clapping his friend on the shoulder excitedly. “My friend, all of us are going out to celebrate. Girls are going with Isla. Guys with you. Impromptu Bachelor Party, shall we say.”
Isla excitedly reaches for Hera, hugging her tightly and thanking her for how perfect everything about the night has been, saying that she couldn’t have done it without her. Hera squeezes her, reassuring her that everything will be wonderful tomorrow and tonight is a night to celebrate. Harry instructs everyone to go back to their rooms and to meet in the lobby in an hour to leave, nodding towards all their friends and reaching for the room key, quickly making his exit towards the elevator.
“Harry!” Hera calls, grabbing her things and hurrying out of the room, the anger in her body growing worse as a hand grabs her wrist and turns her around, “Grant, let me go. Now.”
“Harry was going to find out eventually, June.”
“Harry would have found out, yes. Harry would have found out by me telling him! Not you! What is wrong with you? What are you trying to do?” Hera says, thankful that they’re in the hallway and none of the party is able to hear them. Hera doesn’t want to ruin Isla’s night. “Harry and I are together. Accept that. Not everything is meant to work out, okay? You and I were not meant to work out. You have to let me go, Grant. This isn’t fair. Getting on Harry’s nerves to try and hurt us. One day, you will understand what I mean when I say that Harry is a different type of love, but until then, you need to budge out my business. Friends, that is all we are.”
Grant slowly releases Hera’s wrist from his hand, her body immediately turning and hurrying inside the waiting elevator, her hands rubbing over her face in frustration. Hera yanks the hotel key from her wallet, opening the hotel door and walking inside, her heart sinking into her stomach when she sees Harry sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. Hera is silent, walking to the chair in the corner of the room and taking off her shoes, waiting to see if he’ll say something, anything. Harry doesn’t even look at her, walking out onto the balcony and leaning against the railing. Hera can see his back tensing, his breathing heavy and thick. Hera sets her shoes by the wardrobe, making the conscious choice to go outside and speak to him, even if he yells at her. Hera just can’t stand the silent treatment, the thought of not hearing his voice.
Harry doesn’t turn around when Hera opens the balcony door, remaining perfectly still in his stance, his hands on the railing, back to her. “Hera, I don’t want to speak right now, okay? Go get ready for the party. There’s not much time to get ready, and you don’t want to be late.”
“Honestly, you don’t have to speak, right now. Give me a minute to explain,” Hera says quietly, cautiously circling her arms around his waist, laying her cheek against his back, smiling to herself when his body instinctively relaxes with her touch. Hera’s arms tighten around his midsection, taking a deep breath before saying, “Harry, it’s not what you think, okay? Bad Bunny’s tour manager reached out to me after our first-second date.” Harry chuckles quietly with that, earning a bigger smile from Hera. “I didn’t want to tell you because I wasn’t sure if I would get it. I didn’t want us to start planning a whole visiting schedule if it didn’t matter, you know? On the first night of Wembley, our meeting ran late, which made me late to see you. Halfway through the show, my phone started vibrating, and I opened my email and there it was, the offer. Grant, just so happened, to walk up to me after I read it and I blurted it out. I asked Grant not to tell you, because I wanted to do it. I wanted to sort out when I would be able to visit you and whatnot during the residency, especially since we’ll both be in America at the same time.” Hera can feel Harry nodding his head. “I’m sorry that Grant blurted it out and took you by surprise. I never wanted that to happen, and trust me, I’ve taken care of Grant. Okay?” Hera’s eyes flutter shut when Harry’s hand squeezes hers. “I love you, Harry. I want to celebrate this wedding with you. I don’t want you to be upset with me all weekend. I don’t want you to shut me out, Harry.”
“I’m not upset with you, I’m not shutting you out,” Harry sighs, his shoulders sinking as he turns around against the railing, his hands immediately reaching to hold Hera’s cheeks. “I just get annoyed when he thinks he can budge in our business.” Harry kisses her forehead softly. “I am so happy and proud of you, Hera. Bad Bunny’s tour is going to be incredible for you, for your career. He’s an incredible artist and I know you’re going to have so much fun designing the stage. You’ve been itching to get back on the road, too. I see it. This will be really good for you.” Harry looks into her eyes, the adoration he has for her etched across his face. “I love you, Hera.”
“And I’m only a time zone or two away from you,” Hera smiles, leaning her chin on his chest, her eyes moving between Harry’s eyes and his mouth. “I love you, too. I’d love you more if you kissed me, especially considering since you stomped away all angrily without giving me a kiss. Quite rude, actually.”
Harry laughs, meeting her mouth halfway, kissing her softly, pecking her lips over and over again as she giggles, a sound he swears is sweeter than sugar. “I’m sorry I did that. I shouldn’t have. Need to work on how I react when I’m annoyed or angry.” Harry leans his forehead against hers, their mouths so dangerously close. “How drunk are you going to get tonight? I need to be prepared for what kind of Hera I’m going to take care of when we get back.”
“Don’t think I’ll be that drunk, as far as I’m aware,” Hera smirks, kissing his nose sweetly before backing away from his body, walking towards the balcony door and beginning to untie her sleeves. “However, I do think it’s necessary for you to come with me in the bedroom and allow me to do what I want with you before I get too intoxicated to walk in a straight line.”
“Very necessary actually.”
Harry barks out a laugh as Hera waves him towards her, his body immediately pushing off the railing and following her into the bedroom, the curtains drawing shut behind them.
“Hi, baby.” Harry can’t hide the smile on his face when Hera stumbles over to him at the bar, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as her face hides in his neck, breathing him in as she hums against his skin. Harry squeezes her hands around him, kissing her arm. “Mm, you smell good.”
“I’ll take this as my cue to get my wife-to-be,” Beau laughs, excusing himself to find Isla, who, upon first glance, is drunkenly dancing with her younger sister on the dance floor. Grant follows closely behind to grab Valentina, Mitch and Sarah leaving a bit earlier to have time alone before the excitement of the wedding the following day.
“Are you still upset with me?” Hera mumbles, leaning her head slightly to the side to get a better look at his face. Harry breathes out a laugh, shaking his head, gently prying her hands from around him and bringing her to sit on his thigh, his arms wrapping around her waist securely. “Are you?”
“No, my love. I’m not upset with you.”
“I think you are,” Hera says with a stutter, Harry’s quiet laughter making her furrow her eyebrows together in frustration. “Give me a kiss.” Harry kisses her cheek softly. “See! You must be mad at me. You won’t even give me a real kiss.” Hera sighs out a breath and shakes her head, ignoring Harry’s smile. “Fine! I’ll get another drink, then. I’ll make my own fun.”
“Hera, you have a very big day tomorrow, I don’t think another drink will be very good for you.” Harry asks the bartender for a water. “Let’s take you upstairs.”
“Harry, everyone is having fun! I don’t want to leave!” Hera whines, turning around on Harry’s thigh and kissing his cheek over and over again, trying desperately to convince him. “You won’t kiss me. You won’t dance with me. You won’t let me have another drink. You don’t want me to have fun.”
“Hera, I just walked over here less than ten minutes ago,” Harry chuckles, shaking his head and kissing her forehead softly, his fingertip tracing over her face gently. “I think you need a water and as close to your regular nine hours of sleep, as you possibly can, otherwise you’re going to be a grouch, tomorrow.” Hera lifts her face from his shoulder and smiles at him sleepily, and Harry swears he’s never been more in love. “Come on, my drunken love.”
Hera begrudgingly agrees, and Harry is thankful that they ended their night at the bar inside the hotel, the way to their hotel room only a short elevator ride away. Hera is clinging to Harry, her giggles making him smile as they walk through the hallways and into the suite, Hera immediately stumbling towards the bed and grunting when she can’t reach her shoes. Harry smirks, laying all their belongings on the dresser (for him to sort through when she’s in the bath) and handing her the water, kneeling down on the floor near her feet.
Harry laughs, carefully unravelling the tie around her ankle and setting the heels in the corner of the room, somewhere she won’t fall over them on the way out of the bath, “Hi, my heart. Drink your water, okay? Does your head hurt? Usually, you get a headache pretty quickly.”
“I’m okay. Need pajamas, Harry.”
“Okay, don’t worry, honey. I’ll get you something.” Harry stands on his feet and grabs one of the oversized shirts from Hera’s luggage, his eyebrows raising confusedly when Hera whines and shakes her head. “Do you want one of my shirts?” Hera nods with a sleepy smile, barely sitting upright. “Okay, my heart. Here we go. Can you stand up for me? I’ll get this dress off you and the pajamas on.” Hera complies easily, Harry’s sweet voice and gentle hands making her listen without a complaint. Harry delicately takes down the zipper, grabbing the shirt and pulling it over her head, laughing when she immediately pulls her underwear down and tosses it on top of the dress. Hera immediately falls back against the mattress, a smile gracing her mouth when Harry lets out a laugh. “Hera, my heart, work with me, here.”
Harry struggles to contain the laughter that is bubbling in his chest. Hera is just so drunk and acting so silly, it’s making his heart swell against his ribs. “I know you are, Hera. Can you budge up a little? Get your head on the pillow, at least? Help me, help you.”
“Not even a sweet name? Must be so mad at me.” Harry shakes his head, sliding his hands under Hera’s body and gently maneuvering her around the mattress, somehow managing to get her underneath the duvet and her head on the pillow. “Can I tell you a secret? Like the old days?”
“Always, sweetheart. Tell me a secret.” Harry kisses Hera’s nose gently, stepping away only slightly to get undressed and ready to get into bed with her.
“Used to think about refunding my plane ticket and not coming to the wedding,” Hera whispers, her eyes peacefully shut, her mind slowly easing as she gets closer to falling asleep. Harry looks at her with confusion, turning off the light on the bedside table and walking around the bedframe, tucking himself underneath the covers and bringing Hera to lay on his chest. “I didn’t want to see you with someone else, and I was sure you’d bring a girl with you.”
“Listen to me, and listen to me very carefully,” Harry says, his fingertips tracing over her face very softly, nearly ghosting across her face, wanting her to barely feel the touch. “Only girl, the only girl, I will ever dance with is you. Okay?”
“Okay.” Hera smiles weakly, her arms wrapping around his waist tightly as she tucks herself into his side, feeling the warmth of his body radiating onto her. “Are you memorizing me? Drunk Hera?”
Harry smirks, because although Hera being drunk is part of it, that’s not what he’s focusing on, in this moment. “No, my heart. I’m memorizing the way you’re clinging to me, the way we fall asleep. I want to remember it forever.”
“You’re always memorizing me. I’m right here. I never want to be far from you. That’s partly why I took the Bad Bunny job, because then I’m only a flight away, a few hours. Not an ocean apart, anymore.”
Harry kisses Hera’s forehead, “And what happens if you disappear? Need to have all these things memorized. Especially when you’re away, it’s how I make it through.”
“Do you not think that I want to stay right here for the rest of my life? Given the option, I’d never leave your side.”
Harry knows that Hera’s drunk, that all of her words are spilling out from the martinis and champagne, but the way she’s so sure of herself and what she’s saying, the way she knows how much she loves him, makes him feel like his heart could burst with so much love.
“Keep memorizing my face and I’m going to fall asleep,” Hera says quietly, and Harry can tell by the volume of her voice that she’s nearly asleep.
He laughs quietly. “Good, you need your rest for tomorrow.”
Hera quiets to a whisper, “Going to be mad at me in the morning still?”
“I’m not even mad at you, now, my heart. It’s okay. We’re okay. Get your rest, alright? Have a very big day tomorrow, and you have to be up soon to go to Isla’s room.”
“Kiss first?” Hera pouts, smacking her lips together playfully as she typically does when she’s drunk and asking for a kiss. Harry leans down and kisses her sweetly, a gentle kiss on her mouth. “Not enough. Not long enough.” Harry giggles and leans down again, kissing her longer this time, waiting for her to pull away before he does. His nose nudges against hers, his head leaning back against his pillow as he attempts to shut his eyes. Hera interrupts him quickly. “I like your nose.”
“Anything else you like?”
“Lots. Lots of things.”
“Like what? Tell your favorite thing about me, Hera.”
“Hm,” Hera hums, and by the way her hands are loosening around his waist, Harry can tell she’s minutes away from falling asleep. “The way you love me. That’s my favorite.”
Harry’s heart feels like it’s going to burst, and his hand squeezes her side instinctively. “Yeah? I love you pretty alright, my heart?”
“You love me the best.”
Harry wants to ask more questions, to hear more drunken confessions, but before he can get another word out, Hera is quietly snoring against his chest. All that Harry wanted to say will just have to wait another day.
i love when you can tell that a celebrity didn’t get a full education and just focused on being famous. harry styles took one for the team this week. the girls will call it relatable. but we all know it was embarrassing
Crookshanks being an unpaid intern for Sirius Black is my favorite thing about Prisoner of Azkaban. He had that cat running ERRANDS. Ordering the Firebolt for Harry, stealing Neville's list of passwords. Crookshanks was Booked and Busy
As it was 🥀✨
it's so important to me that matilda goes from "and not invite your family 'cause they never showed you love" to "you can start a family who will always show you love" because both lines hold such a significance but the difference in them because the "family" in the first line is your blood related family and the one in the 2nd line could be blood related but doesn't have to be because family is who YOU choose and idk it's just so beautiful to me
A/N: this was inspired by a tiktok i saw a while ago and then venice happened which was just the most amazing ceo content we needed!
WORD COUNT: 6.3k
SUMMARY: Your boyfriend breaks up with you to focus on his career. So you start dating his boss.
MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!
There’s a pep in your steps as you approach the massive office building where your boyfriend, Keegan is working, carrying a single cupcake in a box along with a candle somewhere in your bag. Today is his birthday and you wanted to surprise him with a little something early in the day. He’s been having a rough time at work, staying in late, starting early, you barely even saw him lately, he even canceled your usual date night last Saturday, because apparently he had to finish up some kind of important presentation.
You’re trying to be as supportive and accepting as possible, but it’s taking a toll on you as well, missing the quality time you used to spend together, so that’s why you thought you’d surprise him with this little gesture before you head to work as well.
Keegan works at Pleasing, one of the biggest beauty companies in the world, though he is a finance employee, he has nothing to do with the products. He started just a few months ago and you know it’s a big change after his previous job at a small company, so it obviously comes with a bigger workload.
It’s only your second time in the building, you once brought in a few papers for Keegan he urgently needed, so you’re approaching the stylish front desk a bit nervously.
“Welcome to Pleasing, how can I help you?” the beautiful woman behind the desk asks you with a bright smile.
“Uh, hi! I’m Y/N Y/L/N and I’m looking for Keegan Watson, he works at the finance department.”
“Do you have an appointment with him?”
“No, I’m his girlfriend. Can you just… Just let him know I’m here, please.”
“I’ll ring him up for you. Take a seat,” she gestures towards the colorful couches in the lobby and nodding you decide to sit on the purple one, prepping the cupcake for Keegan’s arrival.
Opening the box you look for the candle in your bag and stick it into the dessert, making sure it’s standing straight. You keep an eye on the elevators and when you see him step out from one of them, you quickly light the candle and turn to face him as he approaches you.
You didn’t expect him to start jumping in happiness, but you hoped for some kind of enthusiasm to see you with the cupcake. However, he is walking towards you with a stone hard expression on his face, as if he is embarrassed to be seen with you here.
Just when you’re about to wish him a happy birthday, he speaks up and the words get stuck in your throat.
“What are you doing here?” he hisses looking around, as if he was checking if anyone saw the two of you.
“I-I just… I wanted to surprise you,” you whisper, completely taken aback by his reaction. “H-Happy birthday.”
Sighing he starts fanning at the candle to put it out, not even blowing it like he was supposed to and then he grabs your wrist and pulls you to the corner of the lobby, the poor cupcake still in your hands.
“You can’t just come here whenever you want to, this is my workplace, Y/N.”
“I just dropped by for a few minutes to give you this, I wasn’t trying to get you to leave work or something.”
“But you came here unannounced, I have shit to do.”
“Do you really? Because you just came down here.” You’re starting to get defensive too at this point. He is treating you like garbage for absolutely no reason.
“Because I didn’t have a choice,” he snaps back. “I’m not the little girl you’re babysitting, I don’t want cupcakes and… sprinkles,” he frowns, looking down at the dessert in your hands as if it was the most disgusting thing he has ever seen. It’s a simple strawberry cupcake with frosting on top and a bit of sprinkles, nothing extra.
“Why are you acting like an asshole? I came here to surprise you on your birthday, we haven’t seen each other in almost a week and this is how you’re treating me?!”
He sighs again and pinches the bridge of his nose before looking down at you.
“Y/N, I think we should take a break.”
All blood drains out of your face as you stare back at him blankly.
“What?” you whisper in disbelief.
“I’m focusing on my career now, I have a lot of work, I don’t think I have the energy and time to be in a relationship right now.”
“You don’t think?” you let out a huff. “Keegan, we’ve been together for eight months, it’s not like we just started dating.”
“I know, but… this is how I feel. I hope you can respect that.”
You’re not entirely sure whether you want to scream and punch him in the face, several times in a row or just curl up in a ball and cry for days. Or maybe you could do them both. But instead, you just bite your wobbling bottom lip and turn away from him.
“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he tries to put a hand to your shoulder, but you step back and out of his reach.
“Leave me alone,” you huff.
“Don’t act like a child, Y/N.”
“Oh, so now I’m acting like a child?” you choke out a laugh, tears rolling down your cheeks. “You’re a fucking asshole, Keegan. Go back to work, apparently, you have shit to do,” you spit, turning away from him.
You hear him clicking his tongue before he finally walks away, leaving you alone to deal with the aftermath of his behavior.
You feel humiliated and used, the way he just ended it all makes you think he never even had any feelings for you while you were so caring and loving towards him for so long and now it all just went down the drain. Eight months of your life, right out the window.
You go back to your bag and put the cupcake into the box, before looking for a tissue, you’re a hot mess in the lobby of a big company, this will probably end up being one of your worst memories.
As you’re packing up to leave with the last remaining pieces of your pride, you spot a man approaching you from the corner of your eyes. He is tall and he is wearing a designer suit along with a pair of expensive looking sunglasses.
“Everything alright, love?” a smooth voice speaks up with a british accent and when you look up you see the tall guy standing just a few feet away from you.
“Yeah. Everything is fucking perfect,” you mumble under your breath, throwing your bag onto your shoulder and grabbing the cupcake box from the coffee table. You stare down at it before turning back to the stranger. “Here, have a treat on me,” you grumble and just hand the box over to him, which he takes with a surprised expression. “Never trust a guy who works in finance,” you comment before walking past the man and leaving the building.
Ninety-nine percent of the time you absolutely love your job as a full-time nanny. You’ve been working with the Browns for five years now, taking care of their daughter, Sally, who was only four when you first started to babysit her. It was just a side job at first, you were working as a waitress after you finished school, but three years ago you became their full-time employee, taking care of Sally during the day while her parents are at work. You love this job, you love Sally and you love working for the Browns, the money is awesome too, so it’s a win-win situation for everyone.
Today, however, you’d love to ditch work and just go home to curl up on your bed and watch sad movies until you feel like you have no tears left to cry. But in the real world you have to suck it up and carry on.
Luckily, Clair is in a hurry when you arrive, so she doesn’t notice your state, she is out the door before she could even take a good look at you. Sally, however, being the tiny genius that she is at the ripe age of nine, immediately sees that something is up.
“Wow, you look awful,” she comments, looking up from her book when you walk into her room.
“Thanks a lot,” you mumble, throwing yourself into the beanbag next to her desk, blowing raspberries into the air as you stare up at the ceiling. “Keegan and I broke up.”
“What?” her eyes widen as she turns in her chair, abandoning the book she was reading when you arrived. For a split second, you feel ridiculous for discussing your breakup with a nine-year-old, but then you tell yourself she is probably more mature than the asshole who just broke up with you.
“Oh, I’m sorry, he said that we should have a break. But we all know there’s no such thing as a break in a relationship,” you roll your eyes.
“I never liked him,” she sassily replies.
“Really?” you huff. “What made you dislike him?”
“His vibes were off from the beginning,” she shakes her head, like a professional.
“Excuse me, why didn’t you warn me then?” you gasp dramatically, making you both laugh. “Okay, what do you want to do today?” you ask, hoping to take your mind off of what happened in the morning.
The two of you spend most of the day wandering around in a gallery, then you have lunch near Sally’s favorite park and you take her to the library in the afternoon, leaving with another stack of books she will finish off in probably a week.
Sally really is a genius. She has been homeschooled the past two years and she is already three years ahead of her peers. Her hunger for knowledge has been amusing and truly inspiring, and sometimes maybe a bit scary too. She looks like any normal little girl, but you’re convinced there’s an old man, maybe a professor living inside her and when her original classmates will be starting highschool she might be finishing up college.
You make her dinner and you eat while watching the news, because of course, she hates cartoons. Clair and Simon get home at around eight so you can finally head out. As you’re walking home after you get off the train, everything hits you again and by the time you reach your apartment, you’re fighting your tears again. You grab the ice-cream from your freezer, empty the box while watching the Notebook and then pass out, hugging a pillow tight to your chest.
The next morning you can sleep in a bit, Sally has tennis class and her dad drops her off so you just have to pick her up at eleven thirty, so when you finally make it out of bed at nine you lazily make a coffee and take your time to get ready.
That is until your phone starts ringing.
Checking the caller ID you see an unknown number, so you’re hesitant to answer at first.
“Hello?” you say, holding the phone to your ear.
“Hi, I’m Stella from the front desk of Pleasing. I’m looking for Miss Y/L/N.”
“Um, it’s me,” you reply, but the mention of Pleasing makes your stomach drop. Could this be about Keegan?
“Amazing. Sorry to bother you, but Mr. Styles would like to meet you when you have the time this week.”
“Mr. Styles?” you ask in confusion.
“Harry Styles, the CEO,” she adds and your eyes almost pop out of your head.
“W-What? Am I in trouble? If this is about yesterday, I’m sorry if I shouldn’t have been in the lobby, I promise I won’t go there again!”
“No need to worry, miss. Mr. Styles just wants to have a chat with you, apparently you made a memorable impression on him yesterday,” she chuckles softly.
You made an impression on him yesterday? You start raking through your memories to clear the picture when it finally clicks. The tall man who walked up to you after Keegan left. He asked if you were alright and then you just threw the cupcake at him before storming out of the building.
“Um… well, I-I don’t know, I have to work today…”
“Mr. Styles said he can be flexible and make time for you anytime today.”
“I can drop by at around six today, I think..”
“Amazing! I’ll put you into his schedule, he’ll be waiting for you!”
And with that, the call ends as you stare ahead of you, completely confused about what’s happening.
You’re still in shock when you pick Sally up from her class and as always, she sees right through you.
“What happened? Did Keegan call you or something?” she asks as you take her sports bag and the two of you head to the car you use whenever you’re working. The perks of working for a rich family, for sure.
“He did not, but I got another interesting call this morning.”
You tell her about your conversation with Stella as she climbs into the car and you take the seat behind the wheel, driving off.
“Maybe he wants to offer you a job! Wait, that wouldn’t be too good, please don’t leave us!” she gasps, realizing what she just said.
“I don’t think that’s the case and don’t worry, I’m staying,” you chuckle.
“Okay, then he might want to ask you out.”
“I doubt that,” you scoff. “He saw me crying in his office building’s lobby and then I just shoved a strawberry cupcake into his hands. That’s not very… sexy, I guess.”
“You can’t know for sure,” she shrugs, looking out the window. “But do you think he looks good?”
“If I’m being honest, I don’t actually remember what he looked like. He also had sunglasses one.”
“Then we need to google him when we get home!” she claps her hands.
And that’s exactly what you do. The two of you sit in front of her laptop in her bedroom and you watch her type ‘Harry Styles’ into the search bar. Several articles come up about Pleasing and then there are a few basic information about him on the side along with a few pictures.
“So, what do you think?” Sally asks, clicking on one of the photos. It seems like it was taken at some kind of event, maybe a charity gala and he looks absolutely breathtakingly gorgeous. Behind the sunglasses he has those beautiful green eyes, the cheeky smile was absent yesterday, but it mesmerizes you as he stares back at you from the picture.
When you don’t answer Sally looks at you and sees how you’re staring at the screen.
“Oh, he is totally your type!” she laughs, snapping you out of your thoughts about the Greek god in front of you.
“Uh, I mean… he looks great, yeah,” you nod, very much holding yourself back. “Go back to the details about him.”
Sally clicks back and you read the few things listed. Harry Styles, born and raised in England, CEO of Pleasing. Apparently he is thirty-four years old, which is eight whole years older than you. There’s not much else about him, apparently he likes to keep his private life… well, private.
“I think you should go for it,” Sally tells you, opening up another picture of him.
“We don’t even know why he wants to talk, don’t go so ahead.”
“I’m nine, but it’s obvious even to me that you caught his eyes,” she rolls her eyes.
“Okay, Cupid,” you chuckle. “Alright, enough stalking for today. It’s lunch time.”
The rest of the day goes by as usual and when Simon gets home you can head out, but instead of making your way home, your destination is the Pleasing office building this time. You can’t deny you got the jitters, meeting the CEO of a multimillion dollar company kind of freaks you out, especially after finding out that it was him who came up to you yesterday. What could he possibly want from you?
Walking into the lobby a bitter feeling takes over you, but you try your best to push it to the back of your mind as you approach the front desk where you’re met with the same woman, who you assume to be Stella.
“Hi, I’m here to meet Mr. Styles?”
It comes out as a question, because you still can’t believe he wants to meet you. The woman however doesn’t seem to mind your uncertainty.
“Welcome, Miss Y/L/N. He is waiting for you in his office. Forty-fifth floor, down the hall on the right, but there’s a front desk up there too, if you get lost,” she explains to you nicely.
“Oh, okay, thank you. And… Um, do you happen to know why he wanted to see me?” Stella’s smile stretches a little wider as she cocks her head to the side.
“Judging from the way he demanded to know who you were after meeting you yesterday, you probably caught his eye.”
“Like, in a good sense?”
“Definitely,” she chuckles.
“Okay, but how did you know my number?” you ask, since you did not leave any personal info, only told her your name when you arrived.
“Mr. Styles has great connections. Finding a phone number is not a challenge for him.”
That sounds a bit alarming, but also impressive. Nodding you thank her and then head to the elevators. During your ride up to the forty-fifth floor, which also happens to be the top floor, you’re nervously fidgeting with your fingers, anxiously watching the numbers change on the screen.
34… 35… 36…
Your mind is racing, making up possible scenarios that might happen when you meet him and they vary from the most ridiculous ones to simple ones. Like asking you where you got the cupcake, because he liked it a lot. That would be kind of funny, you think.
The elevator comes to a halt and you hold your breath as the doors slide open and you step out. Just as Stella said, there’s another desk with a woman sitting behind, who smiles up at you when you approach the desk, standing up from her seat.
“You must be Miss Y/L/N. Mr. Styles is waiting for you in his office, right that way,” she gestures towards the massive double doors that have the initials H and S written on them.
“Thank you,” you nod and walk up to the doors where you stop hesitantly. Should you knock or just walk in? You decide to announce your arrival, so you knock twice before you hear a familiar British accent call out from the other side.
“Here goes nothing,” you mumble before pushing the doors open.
The office you find yourself in follows the design of the whole building, very modern and sophisticated, but still full of colors. The floor-to-ceiling windows give an incredible view of the city, there’s a long conference table on the left, a lounge type of area in front of you with couches and armchairs and what appears to be a minibar and then on the right there’s the massive desk where the man himself is sitting when you step inside.
He looks up and a warm smile stretches across his face as he simply shuts his Macbook down and he stands up, walking around the desk to greet you.
“Ah, Miss Y/L/N, thank you so much for dropping by.” The charming smile he gifts you with makes you swoon and you feel your knees turning into jelly as he approaches you until he is standing in front of you, holding a hand out that you gladly take. He’s got a firm, but welcoming hold as he shakes your hand shortly.
“Um, hi,” you manage to say.
“Would you like to drink anything? Please, take a seat,” he gestures towards the couches as he approaches the minibar.
“Maybe just water. Thank you,” you say as you take a seat on the purple couch that caught your eyes when you walked in and he hands you a tall glass of water a moment later.
“You look a little… startled,” he chuckles softly, as he sits across from you and you feel like you’re at a job interview.
“Because I am. I’m not exactly sure why I’m here, Mr. Styles,” you admit truthfully.
“Please, just call me Harry. And if you don’t mind, I would love to call you Y/N. You have a beautiful name.”
“Uh, of course, sure,” you nod, running your tongue over your lips to wet them and you swear you catch him eyeing the motion before his gaze returns to your eyes.
“You’re here because you… completely swept me off my feet, Y/N.”
“I’m sorry?” you ask dumbly, but it’s genuinely your first thought upon hearing his words.
“When we met at the lobby. I know you were upset and angry about something, but you had this incredibly vibrant aura that just pulled me in. That’s why I walked up to you, I needed to get closer to you.”
You stare back at him, just blinking without saying a word. Sally joked about him being into you, but you never thought this would turn out to be the truth.
“I’m sorry if I’m being way too forward, I just couldn’t let you walk out without ever meeting you again. I was really excited when Stella said you agreed to come back.”
“But… we barely spoke two words.”
“I know,” he smiles. “But I couldn’t stop thinking about you afterwards.”
“Oh,” is all you can reply as you stare back at him. He seems to find your surprise amusing as he grins back at you before he continues to talk.
“Excuse my bluntness, but I have… never met anyone like you and I know it sounds crazy since this is basically the first time we’re talking, but this is just how I feel. And I would love to get to know you better.”
“Are you asking me out?” you question, making him laugh. He must think you’re dumb or completely clueless when it comes to dating. Which might be the case, since you did not see Keegan breaking up with you, it all came out of the blue.
“I am, yes,” he answers. “I hope you don’t feel too intimidated by it all, how I got you to meet me again, I was truly just… desperate,” he admits with a chuckle. “Would love to take you out to dinner, lunch, breakfast, whatever suits you.”
For a couple of moments you’re just blinking at him blankly, trying to figure out when and why did your life take a full 180. Because this is not something you ever expected to happen to you.
“Um… Well, I actually just got dumped. Like, yesterday. So… dating is not exactly… I don’t know if I’m ready for it.”
His expression changes from amusement to surprise and then to… anger? He cocks his head to the side, keeping his green eyes fixed on you.
“He… he was your boyfriend and he broke up with you.”
It’s a statement, not a question. Suddenly, you feel ashamed, like you did something wrong even though you know Keegan was a dick and it had nothing to do with you. Yet, you still feel the urge to look away, your cheeks heating up.
“Well, he said we should have a break, but everyone knows there’s no such thing,” you shrug, trying to look as unbothered as possible.
Harry stays silent, the gears clearly turning in his head and you’re aching to ask what’s on his mind, when he stands up from his seat and then sits beside you on the purple couch.
“Give me your time and company, please. It doesn’t have to be a date, I just want to get to know you. Give me that privilege and let me treat you the way you deserve to be treated.”
Reaching up he brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch is so delicate, you swear you’ve never been touched like that before. By anyone.
“So you don’t mind if… it goes slow?”
“No, not at all,” he smiles softly. “So… will it be breakfast, lunch or dinner?”
“You can’t come in here smiling like a lovesick puppy for a week straight and not tell me the details,” Sally rolls her eyes when you lurk into her room on a Monday morning when her parents leave.
Your grin widens as you sit in the beanbag, your usual spot while she rolls her eyes at you.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you shrug innocently.
“I’m talking about your new boyfriend.”
“I don’t have one!” you gape at her, but can’t hold your smile back.
It’s the truth, you don’t have a boyfriend. Although… Harry surely feels like more than just a friend to you. It’s been a little over a week since your visit to Harry’s office and his confession about wanting to get to know you. You’ve been seeing him every single day since then. Grabbing coffee in the morning, meeting up for lunch while Sally is in her piano lesson, having dinner at his or your place. Yes, both of those happened. At first you felt nervous about having him over in your tiny but super cozy apartment after seeing the penthouse he lives in. The comparison is ridiculous and you thought he would think less of you, but that’s not who Harry Styles is. In fact, he said he loves spending time with you at your place, because it feels like it’s a piece of you and he feels closer to you. Takeout on your fluffy rug became one of his favorite things you’ve done together.
“You’re unbelievable! I thought we were friends!” she moans, clearly hurt that you’re not sharing anything with her this time. She folds her arms on her chest and for once she actually looks her age instead of a tiny old lady.
“Hey, we are friends!” you tell her, leaning forward to put a hand to her knee. “Do you… do you want to meet him?”
Her face lights up right away as she nods.
Harry told you he has an unusually long lunch break today and if you wanted to, he would love to see you. You told him you’re working and Sally might not be up for lunch in the park, but it seems like she is very much into the idea.
So you text Harry that the two of you would meet him at the food truck that’s at the entrance of the park near his office and he responds just moments later, saying he can’t wait to meet Sally and of course, see you.
“Can you not embarrass me in front of him? In any way?” you ask Sally when the two of you are approaching the park.
“I’ve never embarrassed you,” she states with a stern look.
“Oh, for sure, never,” you scoff. “Remember when we ran into that old classmate of mine in the store and you came up to me asking if I wanted adult diapers instead of the mega pads I put into the basket?”
“That was a genuine suggestion,” she shrugs innocently. “The diaper would have been cheaper.”
“God, why do I even try?” you chuckle, circling an arm around her narrow shoulders as you head towards the food truck.
Harry is already there, exactly on time as always. He is wearing an emerald green fitted suit this time, leaning against a pole as he is typing away on his phone, looking just as breathtakingly got as he always does. It’s been hard to keep yourself to your I-don’t-date-I-was-just-dumped-I-need-time plan and not jump at the man whenever you see him.
“Holy…” Sally mumbles under her breath. “Is that him?” she asks, pointing towards Harry and you grab her hand and push it down before he catches her.
“Yes, but behave, he is not an animal in the zoo.”
“No, but he is… very hot!”
“Right?” you whisper in excitement, not able to hold your smile back. The next moment Harry looks up from his phone and spots you, slipping the device into his pocket without a second thought, pushes away from the pole and walks towards you until you meet.
“Hello, ladies,” he smirks, his eyes skimming over your face before moving to Sally beside you. “You must be the one and only Sally, right?”
“Sarah Lena Joyner, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” She sticks her hand out as if she was at a business meeting. People usually find her act weird and frown upon her, but Harry simply takes her hand and shakes it firmly.
“Harry Edward Styles. The pleasure is all mine.” His eyes then return to you and he leans in to press a soft, lingering kiss to your cheek. “Hi, Y/N,” he smirks cheekily.
“Hi,” you smile back like a little school girl, as if you were nine and not the girl next to you.
The three of you order your lunch, Sally asks for a hamburger, you get chicken nuggets with fries and Harry settles with a burrito. He pays for all the food and the glasses of sodas he expands the order with and when everything is ready, you take a picnic table that’s behind the truck, enjoying the food.
“Sally, Y/N said you’re an exceptional talent. I heard that you read a lot, what do you like reading about the most?” Harry asks, striking up a simple conversation.
“Mostly the solar system. But I’ve been interested in ancient Greek history as well.”
You can tell he’s a bit taken aback from her answer, but he is quick to control his face as he nods.
“Those are both great topics.”
He asks her more about her interests and Sally gladly tells him about her favorite planet and the million fun facts she has learned about it. You’ve seen adults brush her off and not let her finish, but Harry listens intently, even seems to be learning from the little girl who knows more about Venus than anyone you and probably Harry know. When all the food is gone Sally leaves the table to play by the swings and you let her, because it’s close and you can keep an eye on her. That leaves you alone with Harry.
“Thank you for being so interested in her,” you smile at him sheepishly.
“No need to thank. She is truly a remarkable kid and she’ll do amazing things.”
“I know, but people tend to find her… weird. She is nine and she speaks three languages and can recite the value of pi up to the ninety-fourth digit. Adults can’t really deal with that kind of geniusness.”
“I can see that. But I don’t find myself intimidated by higher knowledge, even if it’s someone who is decades younger than me,” he smirks and your heart skips a beat.
You remember when Keegan met Sally. She was freshly out of her latin class and was telling you about the grammatical rules she learned about in class and you can still see Keegan’s frown as he asked her why she even bothers to learn a dead language.
Sally never talked to him again and you didn’t want to bring him around her either.
So the experience with Harry is now such a relief, though you shouldn’t have even been worried. Harry has proven to be a true gentleman and everything Keegan could never be.
“Hmm, of course,” you smile at him. His green irises match the lush greenery around him and you get lost in them so easily.
“What, is there something on my face?” he asks with a cheeky smile, rubbing his chin, a blush appearing on his cheeks.
“No,” you laugh. “I just…” Reaching up you gently take his chin between your fingers and leaning in you stop just a breath away from his face before pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.
“Miss Y/L/N, I feel like you’re crossing to new territories,” he hums lowly and his voice is just pure honey. Suddenly, you wish you weren’t in a park, but in his or your place so you could explore those new territories.
“Mm, maybe,” you smile before sitting back and keeping your eyes on Sally.
Lunch time can’t last forever, you promised Sally you’d take her to the library and Harry has a meeting too. But you part ways with the promise of seeing each other later the day. You’ll be off nanny duty by six so you agree to come to the office, meet with Harry and then have dinner together again at his place.
And something is telling you that tonight you might actually conquer those new territories.
Sally smiles at you knowingly when you leave their home once Simon has arrived back from work and you just bid goodbye with a smirk before heading to the Pleasing office building. You text Harry on your way and he tells you to just wait for him at the lobby, he is finishing up his paperwork for the day.
You walk in and the girl behind the front desk just smiles at you, already knowing you’re here to see Harry. You wave at her and then take a seat, grabbing a magazine from the table to flip through while you wait. The minutes pass by, you’re minding your own business and you wouldn’t even notice Keegan if he didn’t spot you and decided to come up to you.
“Y/N? What are you doing here?” he snaps at you, as if he just caught you robbing a bank.
“That’s none of your–”
“Are you stalking me? This is fucking insane, Y/N,” he huffs, looking around to check if anyone is watching you, but it’s quite late, most of the employees have left the building already.
“Stalking?” you laugh in disbelief. “I’m not here to–”
“This is my workplace, you can’t just waltz in here to spy on me.”
“I’m not fucking spying on you, you idiot!” you finally manage to get out a full sentence. “I would be stupid to want to see you again.”
“Oh, and I’m supposed to believe that?” he scoffs and your palm is itching to gift him with a slap across his face. You’re just about to tell him what to believe when a smooth, low voice speaks up.
“Is there a problem?” Harry questions in a calm, collected tone, but you can tell he is trying his hardest to contain his anger upon seeing Keegan, whose face falls completely when he sees the big boss behind him.
“Mr. Styles, hi! There’s no problem, I’m very sorry if we bothered you. Me and my friend were just about to leave–”
“I wasn’t talking to you,” Harry says, his eyes moving to you and they immediately soften at the sight of you. “Y/N, is this man bothering you?”
Keegan’s face falls as he dumbly looks at Harry, then at you and back at Harry who is now standing next to you, one arm around your waist.
“Wait, are you… what…” Keegan stutters in disbelief and you can feel your petty self coming out.
“Well, you said you wanted to focus on your work and career. Totally fine, but I decided to date your boss. I hope you don't mind.”
You flash your sweetest smile as you melt against Harry, curling your arms around his waist as he squeezes you gently to let you know he’s here to support you.
Keegan gapes at the two of you for long moments, it’s kind of comical and when it seems like has completely lost his voice from the shock, Harry speaks up.
“I assume I should thank you for being an asshole, because I got to meet Y/N this way. Still, if you ever go near her again, I’ll make sure you’ll be replaced by the next day and won’t find a job anywhere in the city. Understood?”
“I-I… Yes, sir.” He gulps nodding and walks away so fast, he’s almost running.
“Are you okay?” Harry murmurs when Keegan is gone, his hands softly taking your face in his palms.
“Yeah, I am,” you nod and you actually mean it. “That was really… hot,” you grin at him, smoothing your palms over his chest, feeling up the hard muscles under your touch.
“And you just said you’re dating me. Thought you’re not ready for that just yet,” he smirks down at you, his face inching closer to yours slowly.
“Changed my mind,” you shrug innocently and you’re just about to press your lips against his when he pulls back.
“It’s not just so you can get back to your ex, right?” he asks and you swear you can see his heart breaking as he awaits your answer.
“I changed my mind in the park today. But it’s been a process and you proved to be worthy of my heart with everything you did.”
You watch his lips stretch into a smile as relief washes over him before he finally closes the gap between the two of you, his lips pressing oh so sweetly against yours, kissing you softly at first before becoming more and more needy, devouring you with his lips.
Unfortunately, you remember that you’re still in the lobby of his office building, so you should not get carried away too much.
“Do you think that maybe I could spend the night at yours after dinner tonight?” you ask, speaking against his soft lips.
“Absolutely. Tonight, tomorrow, any day for the rest of our life,” he smirks before pressing another kiss to your mouth, then he takes your hand and the two of you leave the lobby you never thought would hold such a special place in your heart.
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
A/n : it's me again with a lil bit of angst and my favorite trope.
Warnings : Angst, lil bit of swearing. That's it I think. Maybe a shitty ending. Not proof read, sorry.
Pairing : Actress!y/n and Harry
Summary : Harry forgot Y/n's birthday.
She woke up , by feeling Harry's warm body next to her.
It's a beautiful and cozy winter morning in London and she is feeling lazy to wake up but she had to because it's a special day.
Today is Y/n's birthday.
Well it's special because it's her first birthday with Harry. This is the day she had been waiting for , to spend her special day with her lover. This is the reason why she wanted to spend a month of her break in London with Harry. She don't know a lot of people in London, except Harry and few of his friends. But she came to London for him to spend time with him while he work on his new album.
She closed her eyes again to just embrace the fact that she is with Harry today. And god , she is soo in love with him. And she drifted back into sleep slowly while feeling content with Harry's embrace.
After few minutes she woke up again to the sound of the shower. She rubbed her eyes with the heal of the palm to erase the sleep completely. She can smell Harry's shower gel from the bathroom. He is taking a shower. She smiled to herself.
She sat and leaned to the headboard. She is very hardly trying to submerge the idea of taking her phone and scroll and check notifications.
Soon after she sound of the shower came to halt. She can hear the shower door opening.
Harry walked out of the ensuit bathroom with all his naked glory. He is all wet from the shower. His hair is still wet and he smell soo delicious. She love his shampoo's and body wash's smell. He always smells like a bowl full of summer fruits. It's one of her favorite smell. He also had this signature scent which is sweet and at the same time masculine and spicy . She is a gonner for him.
"Like what you see ?" Harry interrupted her thoughts.
"I love what I see." She answered with a cheeky grin.
He just chuckle and went in to his closet.
Don't get her wrong. She is not one for the total attention, or one who wants every one to wish her on the special day. But can you blame her now, it's her first birthday with him , she is just so fucking excited about it. So she thought that the minute Harry saw her , he is going to wish her. But he didn't. So she is a bit disappointed. But she again thought maybe he is just playing with her.
Harry returned back wearing a casual white t-shirt and pants. That's odd , because Harry always wear sweats or shorts in home. And he then he applied perfume which made to seem even more odd. Is he going out? She thought.
He is gathering his stuff and searching for his glasses when she spoke.
"What are you doing?" She asked him in confusion.
"Going to studio? Like everyday?" He said to her with a funny look on his face.
"Um-..." she couldn't speak anything. Did he really forgot? Or is he just playing with her and teasing her.
"I told you yesterday , that we are recording this new song today. We have to complete as soon as possible. So far what I know is this one is the hard on to do." He said to her while he made his way to the night stand near the bed to collect his phone.
That, he told her yesterday while having dinner. But she obviously forgot.
This can't happen right now. Did he really forgot her birthday ? She is already one the verge of crying. But she didn't. She can't.
He leaned down to her gave her a kiss. His lips always feel like heaven to her. She can never get bored of them.
"Bye, baby. Love you. I try to get back early today but can't promise you."
She was quite. Don't know what to speak. Afraid that if she speak, she will say something stupid or will directly ask him about if he really forgot her birthday.
"What , love ?" He asked while running his finger on her bottom lip.
"Will you like... maybe . Um-.. be able to make it for lunch. Maybe for an hour?" She asked him with doe eyes.
"Sorry, baby. Maybe I can not. But I promise that I'll make up to you for dinner. Yeah?"
She just noded and gave him her best fake smile to make it seem really genuine.
He gave her on last peck on her lips.
"Bye, puppy. Love you"
"Bye, baby. I love you."
With that he is out of the room. With in minutes he is out of the house.
She fell back on the bed with a sigh. She is disappointed. Not with him. But with herself. For expecting something.
She is never the one for celebrating her birthday days. Actually there is time where she used to despise birthdays. She felt everything is fake. The love , the attention, everything is fake. It only lasts for 24 hours. And later everything is gone. So she is not really interested in them.
Even in her childhood her parents didn't payed too much of time and attention to her. They always saw her as a responsibility and burden. So there are no memorable moments with her family on her birthdays.
High school was a bit different. She had some good friends. They made her feel a bit valuable by not showing fake love only on her birthdays.
And now it's entirely different. They is lot of people's attention now because she is an actress, a public figure. Now she is receiving both true love and adoration and fake love and attention. Her fans are angels, everyone of them. They are her loves. They made her feel like she is worthy of true love. There are people who really adore and love her. She had never been happier in life.
At the same time there are people who are like double masked. People who talk behind her back and praise and wish her in front of her face. She try not to get bothered by them not to let them get to her.
With another sigh she rolled on the bed to reach her phone on the night stand.
She unlocked the phone. Immediately she is met with many notifications. Many people are wishing her. Her friends, her team, her fans.
She felt overwhelmed by all the love. She replied only to few messages from her close friends.
And noticed that there is no single message from her parents.
Well, she expected that. Her parents never loved her. They always treated her like a burden even though she is the only child. They were never happy for achievements in her childhood. So she expected the same for the rest of the life. But once she became an actress and got money and fame. Her family started to show love and care that they never showed before. She felt strange and uncomfortable at beginning. But later she understood that they don't love her , but they want her money and fame. She felt disgust and she said them right across their faces that she never had them in her life before and don't want them anymore. So she didn't wanted to be treated like. So she cut her ties with them though she always sends them money, bought them a new house. But she don't want them in her life showing fake love.
So this a not a shocker that they didn't even cared to message her.
The shocker is the fact that Harry forgot her birthday. Not that she wanted him to do something extravagant and all. She just thought it would be a bit special if he remember and wished her. Harry had always been a wonderful boyfriend. Still is. Every single day. Every single minute. So expecting him to wish her is not her fault
But at the same time. She have to understand him. He is soo stressed with the album right now. That's all he is focused on now.
And also why would he remember? It's just birthday. He have lot more important things to do. An Album, a tour is coming up and many more things. So her birthday must be the last thing on his mind, right?
She don't want to cry but she is crying now. Maybe it's just a birthday rule that she have to cry atleast once on that day.
Hot tears running down her cheeks. Wishing that her parents loved her a bit more. Wishing that Harry remembered her birthday.
Finally what felt like an hour later she got from bed and went to take bath.She spent more time than usual. Pampering her self. Just laying in the tub.
After fourty five minutes she got out of the bathroom.
She went into the closet and picked some casual lingerie. And picked some loose baggy jeans and Harry's old t-shirt which is her favorite. Considering that she have no plans so she don't have to get all dressed. And atleast she will have a peice of him today.
She went down to the kitchen and made herself some smoothie for breakfast.
She sat down on the couch and decided to watch a movie or catch up with some shows since she have nothing to do.
Before she knows it it's past noon. She thought about calling Harry. She messaged him first to see if he is free.
To Harry: call me once your free
Within minutes her phone rang , and Harry's contact id popped up.
She answered it immediately.
"Hi , baby. What's up?"
"Nothing just wanted to talk." She said into the phone.
"Aww is my puppy is already missing me?" Harry said and she can see that shit eating grin with out even seeing it physically.
She started blushing. "Nope, not at all missing you. Im peacefully watching movies without you."
"Hey ! That's rude."
"Haha, fine I'm missing you. Just wanted to talk and see If you had lunch yet."
"No, not yet. But I will. Have you eaten yet?" He asked.
"No, actually not feeling hungry. I will later. How is the recording going on?"
He chuckled at the phone she can hear Jeff's voice from the other side saying something . "Yeah , it's actually going good. Making fun and goofing around now. But yeah we are making progress though." He said
She still is waiting for him to remember today. But that felt like being a bitch for some reason. Like those people who always seeks attention.
"Ok, baby I need to go. I call you later. Yeah?" Harry said
"Yeah OK,bye. love you." She said in a small voice.
"Bye baby, love you more. And eat something." With that he cut the call.
She just sat there in silence. She feels soo sad. Overwhelmed. Because a lot of people are wishing her. All strangers are being exited for her. But her own boyfriend don't even remember.
At the top of this her anxiety is not helping her. She is over thinking everything.
Does he really love her ? Or did he find her boring?
Sure there is nothing special about her. She is so little compared to Harry styles. She is new to industry, very young , not as popular and beautiful as his other Victoria secret models. She have many insecurities and now she even more feeling insecure.
But she don't want to think about them. Maybe Harry just forgot. It's not a big deal. Not at all. Maybe by the end of the day he will remember and will come back.
She stopped thinking about all of that and spent the rest of the day. She spent the day by reading all the messages, watching all the fan edits on social media and watching movies.
And time just flew by. Before she knew it's almost seven pm already.
Harry said he will make it for dinner. So she excited to see him. She took her phone and messaged him asking about dinner.
To Harry: hey ! Do you want me to start preparing dinner? Or you want to order in? At what time will you be back?
She waited few minutes for the reply.
From Harry: shit ! I'm sorry , puppy. Maybe I can't make it early today. We still have a lot to complete. I'll have something in the studio.
She felt her heart crack. This can't be happening. No.
To Harry: Oh. It's ok , fine.
From Harry: sorry , baby. :(
To Harry: it's fine, bubs. Just come home safe. Bye.
From Harry: bye baby, love you. Sorry again.
She kept her phone aside. This is not happening. The universe is plotting against her. Why ?
There is no use of waiting anymore so she just want to do something and just sleep.
She went into the kitchen. She want a cake. After all there is no birthday with out cake , even if your not celebrating.
But she don't want to bake a pity cake for herself. That's too much. And she even don't want to order one. And either way once when Harry comes back he will find out. She don't want that. He will feel bad and she don't want that too.
And then she remembered that they have some cupcakes that Harry brought yesterday.
She went and took the cupcakes box from the fridge. And for her luck there is only one cupcake left. One with white colour frosting and colourful sprinkles.
She bought a small candle and placed at the top of the cupcake and lit it.
She sang a pitiful birthday song for herself while tears rolling down her cheeks.
Harry is going through the lyrics once again. Everyone are on break. This is the third break. And they are about to complete it for today. As Harry thought it is by far the toughest song.
As Harry is just reading again and again. He heard Jeff's voice.
"Harry , why didn't you tell me it's Y/n's birthday today?"
It's not Y/n's birthday. It's not today. He thought to himself.
"No , it's not today. It's on..."
Then it clicked. Something in his mind just went off.
Oh god, no no no. Not today
"What date is it today ?" Harry asked with a fear in his eyes.
"Umm. January 20."
No.no.no.no. NO FUCK! SHIT. It's not happening
"What ? You don't know its her birthday today? " Jeff asked in a shocked tone.
Harry just hung his head low and shook his head.
"How do you know ?" Harry asked Jeff.
"I just saw Y/n's instagram story. She wrote a thank you letter." Jeff handed Harry his phone.
Harry opened her story. It's just a simple paragraph with black background.
'Hello guys. Thank you soo much for all the love and wishes guys have sent me. I'm soo happy to see all the love you guys have given me. It's one of my best days and you guys made my day. And I'm sorry that I was not able to respond to all the wishes. I was busy , I'm sorry. And I wish to celebrate many more birthdays like this with you guys. Lots of love. <3'
Harry felt like a moron after reading that.
'Busy' It's a lie. She was not Busy, she was just lonely the whole day alone waiting for him.
'Best day ' That's the biggest lie. Maybe this is her worst day ever. Because her boyfriend didn't even remember her birthday.
What kind of a boyfriend is he ?
He felt like an absolute idiot. They felt defeated. He officially is the worst person ever. He knew that her parents don't wish her anymore. He knew that he was only person that she wanted to spend with. She came to London for him. She don't know a lot of people.
He felt sick.
With sadness written all over his face, Harry returned the phone to Jeff.
"So, as per I understood today is Y/n's birthday. But you forgot. And you spent the whole day in the studio. When she is alone in your house. And top of that you didn't even wish her." Jeff said , which actually didn't make Harry's condition better.
He just nodded.
"One a scale from one to I'm the world's worst boyfriend, how much do you think I fucked up ?" Harry asked Jeff.
"I don't know, man. But I'm pretty sure that you just fucked up , big time."
Harry just buried his face in his hands.
"I didn't do it intentionally. I obviously know, but I was a bit behind days with all this album and all. I thought it's still a week later. I even planned a bit for it. But...."
"I know, this album is making you so stressed. And I also know that Y/n will understand it. She is not like every one else. She will get it. "
Obviously she will understand. His Y/n always understands.
"She didn't even bring it up once today. Nothing seemed off. She didn't even sounded mad earlier. She could have just reminded me. GOD. I feel like an idiot. "
"Why does she have to remind you ? As a boyfriend it's your duty to remember, it's not her duty to remind you. And also it's not like that she is gonna come near you and be like.' Hey, Harry it's my birthday today. Wish me and give me gifts.' You have to remember."
Harry just groaned. He is so damn angry at himself.
"You better start now and go. Before the days ended. Make up for her. Take a day off tomorrow. We will manage later. Just take care of her. And tell her my wishes. "
That's what Harry heard before he is running around the studio and collecting his stuff. He said bye to everyone and quickly hoped into the car.
He is driving soo fast. It's already nine pm. He have to be fast. As soon as possible.
He don't even know whether y/n is going to forgive him or not. But he will apologise until she did.
He heart is beating so fast. What if she don't want him anymore? What if she leaves him.
He shook his head to remove those thoughts.
After thirty minutes he reached home.
He stood at the front door for a minute gathering his courage.
He opened the door and met with familiar smell , her smell. The smell he always crave for.
He made his way to the living room, he heard the TV playing. And he saw her.
She was sleep on the couch. The TV was running in the background playing some reality show. She fell asleep while watching TV.
Did she eat ? He thought to himself.
He walk infront of the couch. And he kneeled in front of her.
She looked beautiful. As always. She looked like angel. With her eyes lashes falling on her cheeks. Her chest rising up and down by breathing. A few strands of hair falling on her face, she looked breath taking.
He slowly brought his hand to push a strand of hair behind her ear. He slowly ran his thumb over her cheek.
She slowly shifted in her sleep. And she opened her eyes.
She blinked her eyes a few times to get rid of the sleep.
Then she smiled at him. Smiled.
He was expecting her to be angry and push him away. But she didn't.
She slowly bought his thumb to her lips. And gave it a gentle kiss.
Now Harry is really beating up himself. How could he do that for her. She is literally an angle.
She slowly sat straight on the couch.
"Your back. Sorry, fell asleep. Felt little bit tired."
She stood up from couch. So did he.
"Did you eat anything? You said you'll have dinner. Or do you want me to make something ?" She asked very casually.
He just stood there and looked at her.
"I'll get some water for you." She said with a smile. And turned to get some water for him.
But he grabed her arm and turned her back to face him. And he took two steps and stood directly infront of her.
She looked up at him with confusion. And asked him what happened with her eyes.
He just shook his head and hugged her. He buried his face into her neck. And he inhaled her sent.
On the other side Y/n is in utter confusion. What happened to him? Did anything happened at the studio ?
She brought her hands to his back and hugged him tightly. She lifted one hand to his head and ran her fingers in his hair.
"What happened, bubs ? " She asked few moments later.
"I'm sorry , baby. I'm sorry so much." He wishpered into her neck.
And then she understood. He remembered now. But she didn't want to jump into the conclusion. So she asked him.
"Sorry for what, Harry?"
He removed his face from her neck and stood straight. He looked into her eyes. There is no anger. Just sadness.
"I forgot your birthday."
"That you did." She just said as if it's nothing.
"I'm sorry baby. I didn't mean to."
"It's fine , Harry." She just smiled at him .
"No it's not. I'm supposed to be the first one to wish you. Im supposed to be there with you and celebrate."
"No, it's fine. I don't-"
"No, stop doing that. It's not fine. I'm your boyfriend. I'm supposed to be there for you and celebrate . Not to leave you in an empty house. I fucked up. I'm sorry."
"Harry, it's fine. Really. You forgot. Yes, but it's ok. Atleast you remembered now. And I know you are soo busy and you have a lot on your plate now. I can understand. I always will. My birthday will come again next year we can do it again. "
He is melting at her words. Damn sure he didn't deserve her. He don't. He forgot her birthday and her she is assuring him that he it's fine. She is an angel.
She placed her hand on his mouth to stop him.
"No buts. I'm sad yes. I was alone all day. But it's ok. It's ok until I know that you will come back home to me. That's all I want. And also your work is important. So I understand. "
"Nothing is more important to me more than you." He said.
She smiled "I love you. And nothing is more than you for me too."
Then he kissed her. The kiss is slow and sensual. Passionate. His lips are so soft around hers. Their lips fit perfectly like pieces of puzzle. It's an amazing feeling and Y/n is already feeling light headed. When he licked slowly at her bottom lip she opened her mouth and his tongue met hers.
They both are moaning into the kiss. It's a euphoric feeling.
Harry parted his lips from her and connected his forehead to hers.
"Happy birthday, my love." He said while looking into her eyes.
She just smile and gave him another kiss on lips.
"Will you let me make it up for you now ?" He asked in a low voice.
She just nodded with a grin on her face.
"I'm going to make it up to you darling. A lot. All night. All day, tomorrow. I'm not leaving until tomorrow night."
Thank you, hope you enjoyed.
Lots of love <3
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