harrysrealbo

[harrysrealbo]

on one condition.

harry styles x original character

part six.

word count: 10.3K

warnings: homophobia!

7 AUGUST 2018

harry isn’t sure if it’s the overwhelmingly pungent smell of burnt coffee or the fact that he was about to see oliver for the first time in a little over three years that had him feeling like he could throw up at any given second. his cheeks felt clammy to the touch, and he even had to put a jacket on in the august heat because he visibly sweat through his t-shirt within the first five minutes of sitting at the small booth. (the queasiness was definitely oliver related, but the sour smell flowing throughout the small cafe didn’t help.)

to be honest, harry wasn’t really expecting oliver to reply to his message. firstly, because it was sent via facebook messenger and no one under forty uses that (the only exception being to score a killer deal found on marketplace), and secondly, because the message came from harry. when the message sat on delivered for thirty six hours, he felt relieved. it meant he wasn’t going to have to face his wrong doings, and it also meant that he didn’t have to do something he wasn’t sure he was ready to do to begin with.

besides that one moment in the early days of jane’s birthday vacation, harry hadn’t thought about oliver once. instead, his thoughts were filled to the brim with blonde hair and bright blue eyes, sugary sweet lips and warm, freshly tanned skin. he couldn’t help it. lynn was just so… perfect. harry simply couldn’t get enough of her. all the shy smiles sent his way and soft kisses pressed into his skin had him thinking maybe he didn’t miss oliver after all, and the ache in his chest was nothing but a bit of guilt because he didn’t anymore.

harry would never know because the small, heavy feeling was replaced with what was like the weight of a lynn-sized brick as soon as he heard her say that she was still hung up on silas. he’d be lying if he said he didn’t expect it. the look on her face right after everything happened just said it all. the way her smile fell from her lips mid-giggle when she looked at him… it was like she realized just exactly who he was once the post-orgasm fog had faded.

the memory of it makes his chest ache. harry didn’t mean to let it go that far. he would’ve been fine with a few short kisses and an early night, but as soon as she started grinding against him, the ache to please her grew into a pit so big, it should’ve swallowed him whole from the inside out. she could’ve given him her mouth and her throat just like she had offered and nothing would’ve been as satisfying as the feeling of her clenching around his fingers. the heavy whimpers that graced his ears and the hot exhales from her staggered breaths that fanned over the skin of his neck. the way she fell into him and basked in the warmth of his soft praises. she was so perfect, and he was nothing but an idiot to think he deserved her like that. to see her in such beauty. lynn was gorgeous and kind and smart and funny and… and he was just harry.

so, after a heavy cry in the shower and a fake confession, harry texted oliver that night, and thirty seven hours later, he responded. the other boy didn’t say much, only a time and an address. harry was nearly certain that he wasn’t going to show, but when the little bell above the door rings at exactly 10am, he’s proven wrong.

“hi,” harry rushes out as soon as oliver is at his table. “thank you for coming. i got you a lavender latte.”

“i don’t drink milk,” is the first thing oliver says. no hello. no how’ve you been?, and deep down, harry knew he didn’t deserve the fake pleasantries.

“you never have. it’s oat,” and then he’s pushing his untouched latte towards the other boy. “if you don’t like that anymore, mine’s almond. take it. take both, really. i can get you something else, too, if you’d-”

“harry,” oliver’s voice is sharp. a warning almost. “what are you doing here?”

"i wanted to apologize for what i did when we were in high school."

"that's it? that could've been done over text.”

"you deserve so much more than a text message, oliver," and it was true, he did. even if harry would rather be doing anything else, he owed the boy this much.

oliver doesn’t say anything, but he’s staring at harry with a coldness in his eyes that has him on the brink of tears. maybe this is how oliver felt every time he had to pass harry in the hallways. the thought makes a lump form in his throat.

"i'm not here to clear my conscience or get on my hands and knees and beg you to take me back because what i did was horrible, but-"

"did you ever love me or was it just some kind of fucked up joke? something to laugh at in the locker room, i’m sure."

"i loved you so much, oliver. so so so much." if it were any other situation the thickness of his voice might’ve had him cringing in embarrassment. he knew that the way he treated the other was criminal, but harry never thought oliver would assume that every single part of their shared relationship was nothing but a joke for his teammates. "my dad was horrible and i know that your parents would've done anything for me, but-"

"but i wasn't worth it?"

"you were, but i was a stupid kid who wanted his dad’s approval,” harry admits. “i was so angry because why did i have to be born into that kind of family? it was unfair and i was jealous of you and your relationship with your parents and i just... i took it out on you. i'm sorry, oliver."

"okay," oliver dramatically fake yawns like he just finished watching the most boring performance ever put on. "anything else? no begging for my forgiveness? maybe you want to call me a f-”

“no!” harry’s hands slam down on the table, stopping the boy from finishing his sentence. 

oliver only smiles. “not even for old times’ sake, ma jolie?”

harry’s stomach twists at the old nickname. tears he’s been trying so hard to keep in finally spilling over. oliver started using the phrase when they were in their shared French I class. it was before they even started dating, but the two had started spending more alone time together. oliver would wake him up with the words tickling his skin, and harry let it go on for over a month before he finally caved and asked their teacher what it meant. 

my pretty.

"i already figured that we would end the way we did when your dad saw us," oliver sighs. "i just hoped you were better than that."

"god, i was so horrible, ollie. i just…,” harry’s voice falls. his fingers are gripping the edge of the table so hard, his knuckles turning white. “you know i was religious. i couldn't understand why the god i worshiped made me into something that he hated,” big, thick tears are falling from his eyes, and his nose is so snotty, he can feel it running down to his lip. the sight must’ve been crazy to the other patrons in the shop, but harry didn’t care. he’d do it a hundred times over if it meant there was a chance he could prove himself to the boy. harry really did love him.

“i would come home from school and pray on my hands and knees begging him to fix me. i wanted to be worthy of my family's love so badly. if i had met you ten years from then, knowing what i do now, you would've been more than enough. i'm sorry i didn't realize that. i wish i was better to you, oliver. but nothing i do or say now will ever make what i did go away and i'm sorry.”

"i know,” the tone of his voice matches the way his features soften. the cold stare long gone. “i forgive you.”

"you don't-"

"i'll never know what it's like to grow up like that. my roommate is going through the same thing, and i should've never expected you to face that at 17. you were just a kid."

harry doesn't know why he feels the urge to cry again, but his eyes are watering and his throat is burning. he's blinking so fast, but the tears are still pooling, and as soon as oliver sees he's moving from his side of the booth and sliding in next to harry.

he can feel the boy’s lips against his hair and the side of his head, and harry doesn't really know who initiates it, but there’s soft kisses on his lips, and it feels so nostalgic. almost like coming home.

harry presses his face into the boy's neck when they pull apart. his eyes are closed, and he is just so focused on taking oliver in. he smells different. kind of. the cheap body sprays he had purchased as a teenager were no longer there, but harry could still pick out the gain original scent stuck to his shirt.

"i'm so sorry," his words are muffled by the boy’s skin, but the way ollie runs his thumb between his shoulder blades lets him know they’re heard. god, even his touch felt the same.

"i'm glad you texted," oliver says after a moment. “and i’m sorry for being a prick earlier.”

"don’t be," harry pulls away to offer him a smile. “i deserved it.”

"i still think about you, harry,” his knuckles reach to wipe the remnants of tears stuck under harry’s eyes. "i know how everything ended, but like i said, we were kids, and you loved me in a way i don't think i'll ever experience again."

"oliver..."

"im not saying anything will come out of it, but maybe you'd like to get to know each other again?"

"yeah," harry only smiles, trying his best not to explode. "i would like that very much, oliver."

✮✮✮

lynn swallows hard at the sight of the woman sitting in front of her. she looks nearly the same as the last time she saw her years ago, the only difference being the huge, shiny rock on her ring finger and her rather large baby bump. seeing her like this feels weird, lynn thinks. 

of course, she’s happy for the woman, but lynn can’t help but feel a little bit of burning jealousy make its way up from her stomach all the way to her throat. she didn’t want to be married, and she definitely didn’t want to be pregnant, but seeing her like this… it reminded lynn of how the world continues to turn for everyone else while she still feels glued to the same spot. it was like she was in a game of monopoly, only the child who once claimed her as their piece became uninterested halfway through, and now she was forced to watch everyone pass GO a hundred times over while she sat in the tattered, old box, collecting dust.

“lynn,” dr. agard is the first to speak. “it’s nice to see you. it’s been a while.”

“three years, i think,” her voice feels so small as she leans into the plush pillows on the couch. “and evelyn’s okay now. if you want to go back to using that.”

she watches as her doctor writes a quick note, “i see. any reason for the change?”

lynn shakes her head, “not particularly. i just heard it again for the first time recently, and i don’t know. it didn’t make me cry until i threw up.”

“that’s good,” the woman smiles at her warmly, and it’s too much. lynn has to look away.

when she looks at dr. agard, she sees herself. the both of them share the same shade of blonde hair and blue eyes. the only difference being the fact that the doctor either wore hers straight or pulled away from her face in a way that never had a hair out of place. if she were to take her contacts out, lynn thinks that it would be just like looking in a mirror.

she wonders if this is what her life could have been like if anything were to have turned out just a little bit differently. maybe if peter didn’t have an affair with her au pair, she would’ve known what it was like to have two loving parents. perhaps then she wouldn’t have practically cheated on luke with her stupid neighbor. she’d have a college degree and a ring on her finger and a successful job and maybe a kid or two or three or—

when she blinks, dr. agard is looking at her expectantly. 

“i’m sorry,” lynn says. “what did you say?”

“i asked why you decided to come back.”

"i, um," she clears her throat. "well, i met someone."

"that's exciting," the woman smiles at her as her pen glides across the paper. "how long have you two been together?"

"we're not," lynn feels herself slipping away again. her fingers pick the loose thread hanging from the bottom seam on her shirt, and she moves all of her attention down there. she couldn’t look dr. agard in the eye and tell her what she’s done. "we just... i don't know. i like being around him."

"why's that?"

"he's easy to talk to, and i feel like myself when we're together," her teeth chew at the inside of her cheek. "the version of myself that i was before everything."

"lynn," her notepad comes down and she's looking at her with worried eyes. "we've talked about this. you can't put your healing in the hands of other people."

"i know, i know. it's not like that," but wasn't it? she couldn’t sleep through the night unless harry was pressed against her. she’s been home for a week, and she hasn’t been able to close her eyes without a heavy dose of melatonin (nearly twenty milligrams if anyone cares.)  "i want to do all the work because if there's ever a time that he feels the same, i want to give him the best version of myself. i don’t ever want him to feel like i rely on him."

"what do you think is going to happen if that time never comes?"

lynn would spend night after night with her face pressed into the pillow he had used a singular time until his scent went away. she’d probably wear her pretty blue dress like it was a second skin while she laid in bed trying to remember every curve of his body and every line in his skin.

she’d get on her knees, and pray to a god that she doesn’t even believe in. she’d ask him to fix it. to make harry change his mind about her. and when that wouldn’t happen, she’d probably lay on the floor with nothing but her fresh tears warming her body. she’d stay like that for hours. days maybe. and then she’d finally get up, wipe her face, and move on.

“i actually came today to see if you could maybe give me a referral for the place you sent me to last time,” lynn admits. “you know, the wellness center in connecticut.”

“i’d prefer to talk to you a bit first,” she says. “i could give you one maybe in a few sessions, but right now-”

“please,” lynn begs. “please. i feel just like i did last time.”

“how did you feel last time?”

“crazy,” it’s meant to come out as a joke, but her the tone of her voice has a bit of a serious edge to it. “i feel normal, i guess, but at the same time it’s like i’m not in control. i don’t know if it’s because i haven’t been sleeping or if it’s because of him, but i feel… not right.”

“how long have you had trouble sleeping?”

“thirteen. maybe fourteen.”

“two weeks isn’t that-”

“months,” lynn clarifies. “over a year.”

"oh, god. evelyn,” dr. agard can’t even hide the shock in her voice. her mouth is open, and the pen she’s holding makes a thump when it falls against the notebook. “why didn’t you come sooner?”

"because i felt like i could handle it," lynn smiles sheepishly. “and i didn’t realize how bad it had gotten until i met him. please, dr. agard. i wouldn’t be asking if i didn’t feel like i needed it. it helped so much last time.”

"at least you're aware," she says. "i’ll give it to you on one condition. i want you back here weekly."

“deal,” and lynn can’t help the grin that takes over face when dr. agard hands her the signed referral form.

19 AUGUST 2018

lynn parks her car a long four block walk away from the bakery. she usually starts her sunday shifts in the morning, sometimes even as early as seven. there was always an abundance of parking spaces and she loved beating the summer time farmer’s market crowd. 

however, this morning was spent in dr. agard’s manhattan office. after lynn insisted on moving her weekly sessions down there in fear of anyone seeing her, the woman asked to see her for an emergency appointment. apparently, she wanted to figure out just what lynn meant by that.

so, she didn’t want harry to see her walking into the building in the middle of their little downtown area. sue her. lynn didn’t really want anyone to see her if she were being honest. there was a little embarrassment that came with the fact that she had to go away again, and she preferred to keep it to herself. and silas. obviously. she told him everything.

the weeklong stay at connecticut’s finest wellness center was exactly what lynn needed. when she was there, her one on one therapist (her name was penny and she was lynn’s favorite) taught her some helpful techniques when it came to dealing with her crippling insomnia. none of which involved a boy with soft, brown curls and warm lips being in her bed.

penny also reassured lynn that her borderline infatuation with harry was normal. he was the first new person she felt safe around in a while, and she had to learn to separate that from her actual feelings towards him. she had also said that lynn was projecting an idea of the man she wanted him to be onto him. sure, he was kind and sweet, but that was only when he wanted to be. who’s to say that things wouldn’t go right back to how they started between them as soon as they spent some time together outside of sunny florida?

so, she didn’t love him like she had told penny on her first day there, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have a crush on him. of course she did. he’s harry.

lynn stops at her favorite coffee shop that sat a block away from her bakery. when she was understaffed and worked the night shift alone, she would trade the baristas freshly baked cupcakes for large soy milk lattes. honestly, she wasn’t really sure if the coffee was even that good. the staff was lovely and that’s all that mattered.

“lynn,” the teenage girl behind the counter named nora greets her with a smile. “i was starting to think you moved away. soy latte?”

“always, and i was just out of town for a bit,” lynn laughs, digging through her purse for her wallet. “come by after your shift and i’ll send you home with all of my fails.”

nora cheers, tapping away on the computer screen. “just two dollars today. gave you my discount.”

“i’ve got it,” lynn turns around to see harry standing behind her. he’s got two bags of coffee beans in his hand and he steps forward to set them on the counter. “these, too. thank you, nora.”

“harry,” lynn can’t stop the smile from growing on her lips. “hi.”

“hi, honey,” he gives her the close-lipped, soft smile that she absolutely adores. the one where the left side of his mouth curves just a little higher than his right. lynn leans into the warmth crawling up her neck and spreading to her cheeks, just happy that someone has this effect on her again. (she learned to appreciate the little things in connecticut, too.)

“you two know each other?” nora’s voice is quieter, and lynn thinks it’s faintly laced with shock, too.

“s’my girlfriend, nora,” harry mumbles as the machine beeps, signaling for him to take out his card. when he looks up, nora’s looking back at him with her jaw nearly on the ground. “y’alright, sweetheart? you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“yeah, um,” lynn laughs at how flustered she gets. “when we’re bored, some of us like to ship our regulars, and-”

“ship?” harry interrupts.

“like pairing people together,” lynn lets herself rest against his shoulder. she missed him, and harry obviously wanted nora to think they were together. “romantically.”

“right. i knew that.”

“a lot of us on the morning shift thought that you two would be cute together,” nora’s face turns red at her own confession. “the girls are going to die when i tell them.”

“we are cute together, aren’t we?” his lips are lost in her hair, and lynn tries her best to remember that he’s only doing it because he has to. because they’re in this stupid, fake relationship. (penny, dr. agard, and her group therapist had all called it a bad idea.) but really, they didn’t have to pretend right now. not in front of nora. maybe harry was doing it because he simply wanted to.

the two leave the coffee shop once lynn gets her latte, and also after they stage a photo for nora to send to the work group chat. apparently, they had a monetary bet on the whole thing, and what kind of people would harry and lynn be if they didn’t help their favorite barista make an extra bit of cash. so, they shared a kiss right outside of the cafe’s big windows, and harry stuck his head back in to make sure the girl got the perfect shot.

the weather feels absolutely perfect as they walk through the nearly-over farmers market. it’s on the way to the bakery, and lynn always finds herself wandering around whenever she has a good enough excuse. sometimes, when some of the staff asks for extra hours, she lets them set up a tent full of freshly baked loaves of bread. it meant that all she had to do was wake up early and bake them, and then she was free of her work duties and could visit nearly every vendor. so, once the ingredients were paid for, lynn split the rest of the profits amongst whoever worked. it was only fair.

harry stops to purchase a bouquet of over-priced sunflowers and lynn stupidly lets herself picture them sitting on her kitchen counter in a vase. she’d put them in the crystal one she inherited from her grandmother. usually, she reserved it for flowers that silas sends her from her favorite florist, but an exception could be made for harry.

"i’m happy i ran into you," he admits when they’re just outside of the bakery. "i miss you."

she looks up at him, "yeah?"

"yeah," he confirms. "i know that trip was a lot. figured you needed your space for a little while, but i wanted to see you."

"are you free for a little bit?"

“of course,” his fingers are pinching at the sleeve of her shirt. “i’m always free for you.”

she smiles up at him, unlocking the door to get into the bakery. "come on, then."

it was rare that lynn ever let anyone sit in on her sunday shifts. she loves working alone and the peace that comes with having nothing but her poorly crafted spotify playlists to keep her company. it brings her back to when she’d spend summertime weekends listening to music and baking for her sisters, reminding her of how she even fell in love with baking in the first place. 

she leaves harry in her office while she changes into her baking clothes that were kept in a desk drawer. she's got pictures of amelia and jane and silas taped to her computer, and when she stood up with the folded clothes in her hands, she was reminded that she even added a photo of harry. it was one she took on the trip, and she hoped that he didn’t find it weird. they were friends after all.

“i never got to ask,” lynn’s tying the apron around her waist while harry brings out a chair from the office to join her per her own request. “how did things with oliver go?”

she selfishly hopes he comes back with a frown on his face. he’ll say it was awful. the other boy hates him. nothing good was ever going to come out of it. harry would tell her that the coffee beans he bought were just an excuse to see her, and the flowers were meant to grace her counter top. he’d kiss her like he always does, and then maybe he’d even take her out to dinner.

i mean, he had to, right? why else would he be kissing her head and calling her honey in front of nora? would he miss her and want to see her if he had oliver to keep him company?

harry rounds the corner with a grin on his face, and it wasn’t anything like his normal one. it wasn’t even like the ones that lynn had compared to luke’s sunshine smiles. he’s showing all of his perfect teeth, his dimples practically giant craters on his cheeks. harry just radiates this glow, and it’s like lynn can see the happiness seeping from his pores. he practically embodied sunshine.

“we’re seeing each other again,” lynn has to turn around to face her supply shelf when she hears the words leave his mouth. “dating each other, and seeing where things go. you know.”

“that’s so exciting, harry,” she tries her best to sound happy before she lets herself face him again.

“thanks,” he says, his sunshine smile still on his lips. “i think it’s going to be good this time.”

maybe lynn needs to schedule another emergency session with dr. agard. immediately.

harry sits in her chair, silently watching with one of his legs folded underneath him until his phone rings. the sound makes lynn jump, chocolate batter tipping over on to the counter. he apologizes through a laugh, eyes never really leaving her as he fishes through his bag for his phone.

the mess reminds lynn of when the two of them made cupcakes with the leftover ingredients from jane’s birthday cake while silas opted for a shower. she had gotten chocolate icing on her face, and harry so graciously pointed it out before kissing it off. neither of them said anything, but when lynn purposefully smeared the icing across her lips, he kissed that off, too.

lynn recounted that night hundreds of times in the wellness center and on dr. agard’s sofa. it wasn’t the first time they had kissed when they were alone, and it wasn’t the last, but it was the first time that harry kissed her like he meant it. it wasn’t just soft presses of his lips against hers. he licked and sucked, and her favorite part was when he would pull away and she could feel his opened mouth pressed against hers. there’d be a sharp inhale and then he’d kiss her again. it was like he was trying to stop himself, too weak to ever actually do so.

she wonders if the chocolate mess reminds him of that night, too.

“i’m sorry, mom,” harry has his phone pressed against his cheek. “i know…i know. i just lost track of time. i’ll be there soon.”

it’s quiet for a second, and then his soft murmurs are replaced by the sound of john’s voice blaring through the speaker. harry’s eyes widen, and every time he opens his mouth to respond, john talks right over him. lynn can’t make out much, but she can tell he’s angry, pissed, really, over gemma’s birthday cake. the coffee beans and sunflowers make sense now.

"you alright?" lynn asks when pulls the phone away from his face.

"yeah," he clears his throat. "just... fucking up like always." his words are mumbled, and he doesn’t meet her eyes. she hates that he feels this way around her. "i'm sorry, ev. i should really go before they kill me."

"do you think there's room for one more?" she's standing behind a chocolate cake that she had pulled from the display case the second she heard john’s complaining. a white happy birthday gemma written on across the top.

"evy..." his voice falls when he sees it, and lynn’s stomach flips at the nickname. she wishes he’d say it again. "you don't have to-"

"we can say i insisted on making it. opened the bakery and everything just for the cake. i'll apologize for taking so long. it'll be fine."

"you're not taking the fall. you know how my dad can be.”

she shrugs, "i don't mind. i owe it to you, really. after you had to spend every day at my side. i know how much of a chore that was."

she laughs lightly, teeth finding the inside of her cheek. lynn nervously nibbles, knowing she’s just set herself to be incredibly disappointed. she gets sick at the thought of harry dreading spending time with her. he probably woke up every day on that trip just itching to push her away from him. maybe there was a timer set on his phone, counting down the seconds until he could go home and be far away from her and with oliver instead. dropping her off probably felt like such a relief. like he could finally breathe—

"that trip didn't feel like that to me, blondie. not at all.”

"no?" she looks up at him as his words interrupt her thoughts.

"no," his smile's light, and he reaches to give her upper arm a squeeze. "let me help you clean up."

"you sure? i don’t know if we have time."

“always have time for you, remember?” she wonders if he means it. if he’ll always have time for her even when the other boy is sitting at home, waiting for him.

they take lynn’s car to harry’s parents’ house. harry offers to drop off some danishes and tarts to nora and pick up her car from the lot while she changes into her clothes from earlier, and she lets him. she lets him draw on the pastry box, too. lynn expects something corny, like a thanks a latte written in the center. instead there’s a heart, followed by a rather large l.a.+ h.s. 

her heart beats just a little faster when she sees it.

the car ride is quiet. harry’s got his phone plugged in, shuffling through a few hozier songs that play softly through her car speakers. he hums along quietly, fingers tapping against the steering wheel, and he sounds almost as pretty as he looks. 

it reminds her of the last time they saw each other. he had driven her home from the airport, and lynn spent the entire ride looking for the right moment to tell him just what the night prior meant to her. it never came, and she hadn’t seen him since.

she lets herself think about how different things would be right now if she had. maybe harry would be reaching over the center console for her hand, peppering kisses to her burning cheeks at stop lights, singing along obnoxiously to the songs that played just to annoy her. 

and even if that weren’t true, what would have happened if she had kissed him when he called her that stupid nickname instead of running away? would he have let her touch him? she knows she would’ve given him her throat, just like she had offered. lynn would’ve given him all of her. whatever he wanted, whatever he needed, he would’ve had it.

harry slamming on the brakes is what gets lynn out of her head, and she realizes that this is just what penny meant. her feelings for him grew and grew because of scenarios she made up in her mind, and honestly, she’d never know what harry really thought about that night because he was seeing oliver now. she’d be the worst person in the world if she were to ruin that.

“sorry, evelyn,” harry murmurs, and lynn realizes that he’s got his arm stretched across her chest, pressing her back in to her seat. “wasn’t paying attention. i’m sorry.”

“it’s not any worse than my driving on the way to the airport in miami,” lynn says. “you’re fine.”

harry laughs at the mention of the most stressful drive of her entire life, and then it’s quiet and hozier’s voice can be heard again. 

gemma greets lynn with a hug and a kiss on each of her cheeks. she’s grinning, and thanking her over and over again for the cake. lynn’s baking was her favorite, and she admits that she often finds herself inside of the bakery on her lunch breaks. 

“tell the cashier your name next time,” lynn says. “whatever you want from now on is on me.”

gemma waves her off with a laugh, and it reminds her of harry, “i could never. i already feel bad when nora slips me an extra shot here and there.”

nora. gemma knows nora and that’s why harry was so okay with doting on her in front of the barista. it wasn’t because he wanted to. he had to.

“really, i insist,” lynn feels harry moving behind her. his arm rests on her waist and he presses his lips to the crown of her head. “i owe it to you for showing up empty handed.”

“if anyone owes anyone anything, i should be giving something to you. it’s been forever since i’ve seen harry at one of these things, and i’m certain i owe all credit to you.”

oliver. she owes it all to oliver. it’s been over two weeks since she’s last seen him, and she wasn’t even supposed to be here.

“heeeeey,” harry whines, and his face doesn’t match his voice. instead, he’s got a big grin on it as he leans forward to hug his sister. one arm wraps around her neck and the other stays exactly where it was on lynn’s back. “happy birthday, gem. missed you.”

“i’m glad you’re here, harry,” she turns her attention back to lynn. “and you, too, lynn. thank you for the cake.”

harry guides lynn to the living room, leaving her to relax on the couch next to drew while he got them drinks. gemma’s husband is nice. he offers lynn comforting smiles and listens attentively when he asks her about herself. she’s a bit surprised when he adds in a few questions about harry, but she answers them to the best of her ability, getting the sense that harry doesn’t check in with them as much as he should. 

of course, she tells him that harry’s doing well. lynn chats about their beach vacation and even mentions how thoughtful he was when it came to the dress and dinner reservations. she says he’s attentive and kind, and she loves the way he treats her sisters. when drew asks how his classes are going, lynn’s vague with her answer, only saying that he’s doing well. she’s not entirely sure if he (or gemma) knew about harry’s recent drop out, and she definitely wasn’t going to be the one to let that out.

“i’m glad he has you,” he says it with sad eyes, making lynn furrow her brows. “he hasn’t come around much recently. i think the last time i saw him at one of gemma’s birthday celebrations, he was only seventeen.” 

lynn doesn’t have time to respond because harry’s joining them again, this time with a hard seltzer in one hand and a bottle of water in the other which he keeps for himself. drew switches his attention to harry, and it’s so obvious that the older man cares for him. he asks him questions with actual depth. there was none of that “so…how’ve you been?” bullshit that seemed to be the only thing to fall from the rest of the family’s lips. drew was actually interested in what harry had to say, and even if he wasn’t, he did a damn good job at acting like it.

if he didn’t show he cared enough through his words, his actions did. at least lynn thought so. when his grandmother walked in, her eyes fell on harry and almost immediately, a sour expression took over her face. 

“what’s he doing here?” her voice feels venomous, and lynn can feel the way harry tenses next to her when it falls on his ears. obviously, drew heard it, too. instead of giving the old woman any attention, he simply angled his body to block her out of harry’s sight and continued the conversation like nothing had happened. 

lynn wishes marianne’s mom didn’t have such an effect on him. she can see it in the way his knee bounces. there’s little beads of sweat forming on the back of his neck, and lynn bets she could hear the pounding of his heart if she were to press her ear against his chest. she felt so fucking bad for him.

so, she offers him whatever she can without drawing his attention away from the conversation with his brother-in-law. it starts with a squeeze of his hand before she takes it into her own. she lets her thumb brush against his knuckles, noticing the absence of the rings he usually wears. 

when drew gets up to help set the table, harry slides his hand to lynn’s knee. a smile forms on his lips, and he squeezes once. nothing’s said, but lynn understands it. at least she thinks she does. she kisses his cheek, and harry catches her chin before she can pull away, bringing her lips to his. their kiss isn’t anything more than a peck, but lynn can’t ignore the way the want for him begins stirring up in her belly.

“you alright?” her words are quiet, just meant for him.

“yeah,” her murmurs. “i’m glad you’re here.”

“me, too,” the shy smile forms on his face again and she soaks it up. lynn tries her best to capture this moment, hoping it’s a part of her seven minute long memory reel when she dies. even if it was just a show for his family. “c’mon. let’s go help drew.”

the dinner isn’t entirely unbearable. lynn sits between harry and his mother, and gemma and drew sit across from them. his grandmother is placed next to gemma and across from marianne, and john takes the head of the table. different conversations float throughout the group, mostly centered around gemma, and lynn’s thankful for it because every time harry’s name is mentioned, the older woman either scoffs or mutters something under her breath.

harry doesn’t seem to pay any mind to it at first. he chats with drew and once they run out of things to say, he turns to lynn, wanting to be caught up on all things jane and amelia. he lets out a dramatic gasp with his hand to his chest when lynn reveals that amelia is still texting the boy from the beach, and it makes her laugh. 

it feels like they’re in their own little world at the table as they share hushed whispers and quiet giggles with each other. it reminds her of when they went to the restaurant in florida. their conversation holds nothing of substance, and it feels like she’s actually getting to know him without some kind of depressing cloud looming over them. 

when a childhood story is shared by gemma, she learns his favorite color is yellow, he loves sunflowers (not as much as his sister does), and the two would often spend long games of hide and seek amongst the fields near his grandmother’s house. the story turns into one about the summers they spent there, and his sister recalls harry spending night after night on the floor of her bedroom after they watched monsters inc with tears in her eyes from laughing so hard.

the corners of his mouth are turned downward, and lynn hates that what’s supposed to be happy childhood memory makes him sad. she lets her chin rest on his shoulder, facing away from the rest of the group, “it sounds like your grandma loved you so much then. i’m sure she’ll come around.”

“i hope so,” he murmurs, and it makes lynn want to cry. 

“how about cake?” marianne asks, standing up from the table. 

“ooh please,” gemma says, and then turns her attention to her grandmother. “you’re going to love it, gram. lynn makes the best cakes.”

“that’s what you do?” the old woman asks. “work in a bakery?”

john laughs under his breath, and before lynn can even say something, she hears harry’s voice from behind her, “she owns the bakery.”

his grandmother only hums, and by the look on gemma’s face, lynn thinks that this is the first time he’s spoken to her in a while. her heart thumps at the assumption.

“i’ll take you one weekend,” gemma says to her grandma. “there’s a market, too. it’ll be so much fun.”

“i usually keep it closed on sunday’s,” lynn interrupts, fingers pinching at harry's cheek which earns a laugh from him. “made a special exception today with harry’s help.”

as if on cue, drew walks out with the cake, a brightly lit ‘25’ candle in the center. mari’s singing happy birthday, and the rest of the group joins in. lynn watches with envy as drew slides the cake in front of his wife and then leans forward to wrap his arms around her neck. the action makes gemma grin, and once she blows out her candles, lynn catches the “i’ve already got my wish” that she whispers to him along with a squeeze of his hand.

ugh. when will someone love her like that?

“cake looks delicious, ev,” harry gains her attention with his whisper. “thank you again.”

“y’don’t have to thank me.”

he pats her knee under the table, leaving his hand to rest there while marianne starts to cut the cake and pass around the slices. gemma gets the first, and then drew, and then she holds out a plate to her mother, who rudely puts her hand out and pushes it away.

“not if harry helped with it,” and lynn expects for someone to jump to his defense. to say something. anything. but seconds pass, and no one does.

her shock is probably evident in the way her jaw falls to the floor. even drew, who was just whining about missing harry at family functions, has his attention turned toward his hands in his lap. gemma’s pushes the dessert around on the plate, and marianne is looking sympathetically…at her mother.

“oh, come on, son. lighten up,” john breaks the silence first. “you can’t expect everyone to be so accepting of your lifestyle.”

lifestyle? harry’s touch falls from her leg, and when she looks over at him, her chest fucking aches. she can see the tears glassing over his eyes, rapid, heavy blinking keeping them from spilling over. teeth scrape over his bottom lip, and he keeps his eyes glued to the empty space in front of him.

she wants to pull him into her and tickle him with kisses until he’s a breathless, giggling mess, pushing her away just for a little gasp of air. if it were just them, lynn would let him rest his head in her lap and trace words onto his skin until he fell asleep. he’d leave the next morning with the sentence faintly bruised into his skin. i love you in hues of browns and blues.

of course, she only means it platonically right now, but maybe someday the words would hold more. she selfishly wishes that she’ll be the one to make him forget about every nasty thing his stupid family has ever said about him. that ten years from now, all he’ll know is her and her love, and even if that never happens, lynn hopes that she can prove to him that he’s more than what they make him out to be. that he deserves everything good.

or maybe he’ll find that again with oliver. it didn’t matter. as long as he got it.

“i think i saw some ice cream in the freezer,” gemma says, and then she pushes herself from the table. “i’ll go check, gram.”

“let me help you,” mari offers. she gives harry’s shoulder a squeeze when she walks past him, and lynn can see the way he curls into himself at the contact. god, she wanted to grab the woman’s hand and squeeze it until all of the bones in her fingers shattered.

minutes pass, and when lynn catches a tear finally slip down harry’s cheek, she can’t stop herself from excusing herself to see if the other women needed help. 

"it makes me sick to see the way you guys let her treat him," lynn’s not even entirely in the kitchen when the words fall from her mouth. 

"she's from a different time, lynn,” marianne defends herself, and the tone of her voice makes lynn’s skin itch. she sounds so nonchalant. how can you watch your son be visibly devastated by his grandmother’s words and not say anything?

"who gives a fuck?” she can’t help herself. “he's your son."

"and she's my mother. i could never choose between the two of them."

"except you do, and you never choose him."

"i wouldn't expect you to understand. she's-" gemma starts.

lynn scoffs, not being able to listen to the two of them a second longer, "the only thing i need to understand is the fact that he loves you guys with every fiber in his being, and you both decide to sit back and watch silently as she demeans him. you should be ashamed," she turns her attention to gemma, pointing her finger at the girl as she speaks. "especially you. harry speaks so highly of you in everything he has to say and to sit here and see the way you just turn your head at the things she has to say… i would never, ever let my grandmother talk to my little sisters like that. especially if they came here for me and no one else."

she can taste the saltiness on her lips from the tears she didn’t even realize were falling. lynn’s not sure if its the hurt from hearing these two talk about harry like that or if it’s because her chest is heaving so hard, but she aches. maybe it’s because she knows how badly it hurts, but lynn lets out a sob that she muffles with the back of her hand. she doesn’t mean to, really. harry just deserved so much better.

"can we leave?" his quiet voice behind her makes her jump.

"harry-" it’s marianne.

“yeah, of course,” she moves to him, not letting his mother finish her sentence. “let’s go.”

harry’s already carrying both of their bags in his hand so they leave without saying goodbye to anyone, and lynn couldn’t be more thankful. by the quietness filling the house, she guesses that they all heard her little outburst. maybe she should be more embarrassed by her behavior, but honestly, she doesn’t really care. 

unless harry was upset with her, and by the silence he was offering her…

"i’m sorry," she says once they’re outside. “i overstepped, and-

harry pulls her into him, the rest of her sentence dissolving into a gasp. his arms are around her waist pulling her against him so tightly, she can barely breathe. lynn feels his tears wetting the skin of her neck and the small shakes of his body with every exhale.

“thank you,” his words are pressed into her skin. “no one’s ever…thank you.”

“nothing you have to thank me for,” lynn lets her hands slide up his back until they can wrap around his neck. she’d let him hold her against him for as long as he wanted. maybe if things were real between them, she’d kiss him, too. “do you want me to take you to oliver’s?”

harry pulls away, searching her face as if her question had some kind of hidden meaning. one of her hands move to cup his cheek, thumb stretching to wipe away all of the sticky tears. his glassy eyes are just boring into hers, and lynn wishes she could take all of his pain away.

"i feel like i haven't seen you in forever, evy. could we go to yours?"

and how can she say no when he uses that name. “i have to finish up some stuff at the bakery. we can get chinese on the way if you want.”

“yeah,” harry breathes. “i would.”

so, lynn calls in their usual order at their favorite place when they’re finally in her car. it’s a good thirty minutes out of the way, but she doesn’t really care. there’s a wine store right next to it, and she thinks if she chooses the right parking spot, she could run into both of the stores without harry seeing. 

she drives with one hand on the wheel and the other hand intertwined with harry’s. her thumb runs across his knuckles while he sits in the passenger seat with his head pressed against the glass. he keeps his eyes closed, but the way he tightly grasps her hand anytime she starts to let go lets her know that he’s still awake.

the wine shop is still open when they pull into the parking lot of the little strip mall, so she runs in there first. it doesn’t take long to find the white wine section. lynn could never say no to a chilled glass of pinot grigio, and she knew that harry would happily share the bottle with her without a complaint, but throughout their week in florida, she noticed that he tended to reach for the bottle labeled citruskissed if they had it in their fridge or if they made a stop at the grocery store. so, she gets a bottle of each before making her way to the chinese restaurant. 

while lynn waits for the cashier to grab their order from the kitchen, she can’t help but wonder if harry considers this place their favorite place, too. maybe he told oliver about it, saying ‘lynn and i love this place.’ just like she did with silas. or maybe it was just his, and he mentioned his favorite restaurant to oliver.

whatever. it was a minuscule detail, and it didn’t really matter, but the thought of them sharing something in his mind makes her face warm a little. 

she slides the bags in her backseat before getting back in the car. harry was sitting up right, fingers picking at the skin on the side of his thumb like he was nervous. his eyes were teary again and his bottom lip was red and shiny with spit, probably from gnawing on it.

“i don’t want you to think i didn’t want you there,” harry says before she could even get her seatbelt on. 

“i didn’t think—”

“you did,” he interrupts. “i saw it on your face when my sister said whatever she did about you convincing me to go.”

“i didn’t convince you to go, harry. you were already going, and i practically invited myself—”

“no. no, ev,” he’s shaking his head. “you did. when i saw you with your parents, and how you didn’t let your relationship with them affect your relationship with your sisters. i thought that maybe i could do that, too, and i wanted you there, but…”

“you don’t have to explain anything to me, har,” lynn takes his hands in her own. “i get it.”

“we weren’t talking,” his brows are drawn together, and he keeps his eyes focused on the center console. “i didn’t know how to ask you. i’m just…so embarrassed of the way i let them treat me. i don’t want you to think—”

“i think you deserve better. that’s what i think,” she says. “and we’re friends, harry. i’ll always show up for you, even if we haven’t spoken in a bit.”

“you don’t have to babysit me, you know. you still have work to do tonight, and i don’t want you to feel obligated to hang out with me just because i’m sad.”

“i don’t feel like i’m babysitting you at all,” her voice is full of sincerity. “i missed you, and i want to spend time with you.”

“i’m no fun to be around right now.”

“i’m sure i wasn’t much fun to be around in florida,” lynn replies. 

“that’s different. i didn’t mind—”

“it’s the exact same thing. i don’t mind at all right now,” her finger points to the back seat. “we have dinner, and i got us our favorite wines. if this is because i asked if you wanted me to take you to oliver’s, i just thought that you’d want to be around him instead.”

“i don’t,” his voice is quiet, almost like if he said the words any louder he’d be betraying the boy. “you’re the only person i want to be around right now.”

“okay,” lynn says. “i want to be around you, too. y’dont have to push me away.”

“okay,” harry squeezes her hands once before letting go. he turns to put his seatbelt back on, and then, “is it citruskissed?”

lynn grins, “of fucking course it’s citruskissed. think better of me.”

the drive back to her bakery wasn’t as long as she remembers it to be, but maybe that was only because she spent the entirety of it trying to walk harry through using the ebay app. 

at a rather long red light, she convinced him to list some of his paintings for an outrageous price. it was a trend she had seen online. artists would list their work, and sometimes people would bid nearly five digits for them. lynn had mentioned that financial freedom from his parents might help (at least it did for her), and he was downloading the app seconds later.

the two eat their chinese food right out of the containers with plastic cups full to the brim with their wine at one of the tiny tables in the bakery’s dining area. the overhead lights are kept off, and they use the warm glow from stray lamps lynn had thrifted over the years instead.

she’s spent many long nights just like this one in her bakery. the lights were always dimmed as she ate the chinese delivery in her office. music usually quietly played from the speakers, and there was a sense of calmness that floated around the small building. lynn always loved the time she spent working late alone, but right now, she thinks she loves sharing it with harry even more.

he’s comfortable around her again, and not a second goes by that’s not taken up by one of their voices as they talk around bites of lo mein and fried rice. he tells her about his teenage years, and just how into theater he was. lynn can’t help the giggle that slips out when she pictures harry in costume on stage. 

she tries to talk him into joining the community theater, and of course, he makes a joke of it. she doesn’t want to press, but lynn thinks if he ever did decide to join, she’d be front and center at every one of his plays with a bouquet of sunflowers tucked gently underneath her seat.

“did you ever try to rekindle things with silas?” 

“what?” lynn’s fork holding a bite of lo mein stops mid air.

“sorry, it’s none of my business.”

there’s a bubble of laughter rising in her chest, and she does her best to keep it down, “you do know silas is gay, right?”

harry chokes on his sip of wine, “what?”

his eyes are wide and lynn can’t stop the laughter from spilling out. it’s such a genuine laugh that she can feel deep in her stomach. tears pool at the corner of her eyes, and when she looks over, harry is laughing softly, too.

“i can’t believe you thought that…” her fingertips press into the ache in her side that seemed to grow with each laugh. “i can’t even finish. that’s absurd, harry.”

“you two just seemed so-”

“don’t,” she holds her hand up, one last giggle leaving her lips. “you’ve said enough.”

lynn finishes pouring the forgotten chocolate batter into cupcake tins while harry cleans up their dinner mess. it’s late by now. the sun’s set, and she expects him to say he has to go after he’s finished tossing everything in the trash. he doesn’t though. instead, he brings out her office chair and watches again.

neither one of them speaks, and lynn can’t help but wonder what harry’s thinking about. every time she looks over, his face softens and a smile forms on his lips when their eyes meet. the sight of him makes her want to lay on her bed, kicking her feet like a schoolgirl as she draws little e.a. + h.s.’s inside of hearts in her notebook.

lynn’s icing the cupcakes when she lets him plug his phone into the bakery’s sound system. harry chooses hozier again, but this time lynn knows the words of work song as soon as it starts playing through the speakers.

i'm so full of love i could barely eat.

she remembers when the song was first released. she’d lay in her bed in her parents’ house listening to it with her headphones on max volume, wishing that this was the song she could relate to instead of cherry wine.

“god, harry,” lynn can’t help herself once he returns back to the kitchen. “you must be so in love with him. i’ve never heard someone listen to this much mushy music.”

harry smiles, but it’s sad. (probably from earlier.) “yeah, something like that.”

it’s nearing midnight when she puts the last of the cupcakes in the display case. harry’s moved to the table they were sitting at earlier, his face buried in his arms. lynn thinks he might only be resting, but the soft snores that sometimes bounce off of the walls of the bakery tell her otherwise.

she does her best to close everything up quietly, not wanting to wake him, and then goes to finish up the dishes. lynn’s not really sure why he decided to nap at the table instead of going home to sleep in his comfortable bed, but she isn’t complaining. she would never give up a second of time spent with harry. even if it was spent watching him nap.

thinking about the fact that there will be a day when he would rather be around oliver when he’s sad makes her stomach twist. lynn knows it would probably be best to distance herself. nothing good would come out of letting herself fall in love with him. he even said it himself when they first started this whole fake relationship. he’d do it as long as she didn’t fall in love with him, and something tells her that he’s not very keen on changing his mind.

lynn puts their half empty bottles of wine into a bag, and boxes up the chocolate cupcake she had made especially for harry to take back to his. it was a mini version of the cake she had given to gemma, only a little better. it had raspberry filling and thick cream cheese frosting, and she hoped he’d like it.

her fingers brush against his arm and move to scratch at his back, quiet murmurs of his name leaving her lips. harry offers her a sleepy smile when he lifts his head, and before thinking, lynn offers him a spot in her bed in return. she’s embarrassed for even offering, but harry accepts before she finishes her sentence.

harry takes the bags and boxes from her as she turns off the last remaining lamp and joins him outside. her keys echo in the darkness as she tries to lock the door, and after a few minutes, harry offers his phone flashlight, illuminating the lock.

they share the cupcake as soon as they get into the car. harry uses the nearby streetlight to carefully shove spoonfuls of the raspberry filling and chocolate cake into lynn’s mouth. he keeps the frosting all for himself, quiet hums of appreciation falling from his mouth with every bite. 

“still having trouble sleeping?” his words are slurred in the passenger seat of her car not even five minutes into the drive.

“not as much,” she admits. “i, um, went to a psychiatrist and got some sleeping meds.”

“yeah?” he hums. “and they work?”

“usually. not always.”

“i’m sorry,” he leans his head back against the headrest, eyes closing again. harry’s hand reaches for her's and he presses his sugary lips against the back of it like it was a normal thing for him to be doing. “y’always deserve the best sleep. i wish we could trade places… my hardworking girl.”

my girl? lynn’s thanking god that his eyes are closed because the blush from his words practically takes over her whole body. every inch of her skin is on fire, and when she catches herself in the rear view mirror, her reflection matches that of a red light. 

when lynn finally gains enough courage to look over at him, he’s fast asleep again.

✰✰✰

a/n: yay she's here!!! only two more parts waaa hopefully i'll have the next one out soon

[harrysrealbo]

☆ on one condition ☆ masterlist ☆

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

-ˏˋ i'll do it on one condition," harry drinks from his water glass and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "you can't fall in love with me."

"ah, there's the harry i know," lynn flicks her crinkled straw wrapper at his face, and it lands in the middle of his salad. he frowns and tries to fish it out with his fork, but he decides he's not really that hungry anymore. "something tells me that won't be a problem." ˊˎ-

one.

two.

three.

four.

five.

six.

✰ part seven soon ✰

[harrysrealbo]

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 🎀

ᴄᴏɴʀᴀᴅ ꜰɪꜱʜᴇʀ

ʜᴀʀʀʏ ꜱᴛʏʟᴇꜱ

ᴄʜᴀʀʟᴇꜱ ʟᴇᴄʟᴇʀᴄ

𝘋𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘊𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥

𝘎𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘙𝘶𝘴𝘩

[harrysrealbo]

𝐆𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐑𝐮𝐬𝐡

ᴘʟᴜꜱ ꜱɪᴢᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ᴄʜᴀʀʟᴇꜱ ʟᴇᴄʟᴇʀᴄ ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴀɴɢꜱᴛʏ ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ!!! ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 788

It's chaotic, the type of chaos that's consuming. It's been like this since you stepped out of the car and in front of the camera. It's been a constant go-go-go all morning, with Charles being pulled in different directions by fans, fellow drivers, and the media. There are constant small touches on your back as Charles excuses himself to go speak to someone he recognizes or someone that has called him over. You're drowning in the chaos, truly drowning.

It's not that you didn't know what you were getting yourself into when you got with Charles. You knew the judgment would never go away, the looks and the comments would never stop, but you've never seen it so clearly as you do in this moment. You've never really taken a moment to see the type of women that try to pull his attention away from you.

They're everything society has conditioned you to believe is beautiful – tall, slender, perfectly polished. They flaunt designer dresses that cling to their flawless figures, their laughter musical and carefree. In contrast, here you are, Y/N, a woman who always feels like she's walking on a tightrope of insecurities.

The Ferrari gala has been the epitome of opulence, and you can't help but feel like an imposter in this world. Every time Charles smiles at you, his arm around your waist, you can't shake the lingering doubt that you don't belong here.

Someone, undoubtedly fueled by envy or malice, bumps into you, sending their drink cascading across your dress. You feel the cold liquid seep into the fabric, and the once vibrant color turns darker as the material clings uncomfortably to your skin.

Fighting back the sting of tears, you excuse yourself from the crowd and step outside onto the balcony. The night air is a welcome reprieve from the chaos inside. Leaning against the railing, you sigh, the weight of insecurities settling in.

The door slides open behind you, and Charles steps onto the balcony. His eyes immediately soften as they meet yours, recognizing the distress that lingers beneath the surface. Without a word, he closes the door behind him and approaches you.

"Y/N," he says, his voice a comforting whisper, "are you okay?"

You take a deep breath, trying to shake off the heaviness that clings to you. "Just needed a moment away from all of that," you motion vaguely towards the gala.

Charles nods, understanding etched across his features. He takes your hand in his, offering silent support. The distant sounds of laughter and music echo behind you, a stark contrast to the quiet intimacy of the balcony.

"It's crazy in there, I know," he begins. "But remember, you're the one I want to be with. Those moments where I have to walk away, it's just business. It's not about them; it's about you and me."

You let out a bitter laugh, feeling the weight of insecurities settling in. "Charles, I do not belong here."

He turns to you, his eyes softening as he takes in your expression. He reaches for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. "Y/N, you belong wherever I am. Don't let anyone make you feel otherwise."

His reassurance is like a lifeline, pulling you out of the sea of doubt. You sigh, leaning into his touch, grateful for the grounding force he provides.

The dim lights cast a soft glow on his handsome features. "Look at me, Charles. I'm not like them," you say, your voice tinged with vulnerability.

"Y/N, you are stunning. Don't ever doubt that," he says, his gaze unwavering.

Tears well in your eyes as you shake your head. "But Charles, I can't escape the judgment, the stares. I'm not like the other women you're used to."

He tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Y/N, don't you ever doubt yourself. You are the most beautiful person I've ever known, inside and out. Those women inside, they can't hold a candle to you. You're real, you're genuine, and that's what I love about you."

He wipes away a stray tear that escapes your eye, his touch tender. "You're not here because you fit in. You're here because you're extraordinary, and I wouldn't want anyone else by my side." He pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around your waist as he hugs you tightly. "I love every part of you," he murmurs against your hair, "and I wouldn't trade you for anything in the world."

“I love you too.”

In that moment, on that balcony overlooking the glittering city, Charles Leclerc becomes your sanctuary, and his love becomes the shield that protects you from the gold rush of insecurity that threatens to consume you.

[harrysrealbo]

5

THE pounding in my head matches the relentless rhythm of the movie playing on the TV. I'm sprawled on the couch in Carla and Arthur's apartment, nursing the mother of all hangovers. The events of the previous night, the unexpected encounters, the free-flowing drinks—all of it has culminated in the throbbing ache between my temples.

"I am not going to the brunch," I declare, squinting at the TV screen, trying to focus on the movie that feels like it's on fast-forward.

Carla, lounging in an armchair, exchanges a knowing look with Arthur, who's perched on the edge of the couch. They both wear expressions of playful determination, a united front against my reluctance.

"C'mon, Amelia," Arthur pleads, his eyebrows furrowed. "You know Maman is dying to see you. She asks about you all the time."

Carla chimes in, pouting for effect. "Plus, if you love me, you'll come! I deserve a real day with you, not just a few hours, Ames."

I groan, pressing the heels of my hands into my temples. The thought of facing the Charles again, especially after the emotional rollercoaster of the night, is daunting. Charles's win in the Monaco Grand Prix deserves celebration, but I can't shake the awkwardness that clouds the prospect of reuniting with the family I used to be a part of, doing the same things we did two years ago when he’d win, the idea felt like torture.

"Guys, I appreciate the sentiment, I really do," I mumble, my eyes closed against the brightness. "But it's Charles' day, and I don't want to intrude. I mean, I haven't been around for two years. It's not like I'm still a part of the family."

Carla sighs, sharing a glance with Arthur as the younger boy began to speak. "Ames, you were a part of this family for a long time. Charles still cares about you, and so do we. It's not about intruding; it's about celebrating together like we used to."

I let out a defeated sigh side eyeing him as he mentions Charle misses me, I’m too tired to argue with him. They have a point, and the allure of spending time with the Leclercs, who were like a second family to me, tugs at my heartstrings. But the complicated history with Charles and the fear of overstaying my welcome cast a shadow over the invitation.

"Think about it, Amelia," Arthur says gently, his hand resting on my shoulder. "It won't be the same without you."

I nod weakly, still grappling with the idea. The prospect of facing Charles, his family, and the memories that linger in the air feels like stepping into a minefield. As the movie continues to play in the background, I close my eyes, hoping that the hangover will subside and clarity will find its way to my muddled thoughts.

The walk back to my apartment with Carla is a mix of fresh air doing wonders for my lingering hangover and annoyance over her persistent attempts to convince me to attend the celebratory brunch on Charles' yacht. The sun casts a warm glow over Monaco, and I can't help but feel a tinge of nostalgia for the memories that lingered in the familiar streets.

As we approach my apartment building, Carla shoots me a curious look. "So, Ames, do you have any plans now that you're back in Monaco? I mean, are you staying for good?"

I hesitate for a moment before answering, "Yeah, I'm planning to stay for a while. I've missed this place."

Carla raises an eyebrow, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Any particular reason you're keeping this a secret? I mean, coming home and being back here full time is a big deal!"

"I just... I don't want anyone to know. Not yet, at least."

She grins, nudging me playfully. "Well, your secret is safe with me. As long as you promise to do something for me, yeah?"

"I already told you we could go to that bakery sometime this week Carla." I snort softly, remembering how she had woken me up only a few hours after I had arrived at her and Arthurs shared apartment, telling me I needed to get up so we could grab the chocolate filled croissants we always get.

We enter my apartment, and I groan at the mess that awaits. Carla, undeterred, surveys the chaos with a playful smirk.

"Look, Ames, I'll make you a deal. If you come to the brunch, I won't tell anyone about your little  secret."

"You're shameless, Carla." I shoot her a glare, more flustered and annoyed than angry. 

"Consider it my way of getting you to join the celebration without feeling guilty. Deal?" She grins as she gives me a playful nudge. 

I sigh, realizing I've been cornered. "Fine, I'll come. But you better not tell a soul."

She grins, satisfied. "Deal. Now, you better get ready. Knowing Arthur, he's probably already getting antsy."

“That boy can’t ever relax can he?” I ask softly as I shake my head, letting a scowl take over my face “You two are meant for eachother, you’re both complete menaces. You both have had it in your head I’d say yes haven’t you?”

“It doesn’t take a lot to get you to say yes to us Ames, you just gave me the fuel to put in less work to convince you to come.”

I can’t help but shake my head at the younger girl as a small smile plays on my lips, she wasn’t wrong. It didn’t take a lot for me to give in to them, they were truly like my family, no matter how annoying they were or how far I lived, or how long ago it had been since I had dated Charles; they would always be my family.

As Carla heads towards the door, she turns back with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "Oh, and Amelia, it's good to have you back. Monaco missed its favorite troublemaker."

I roll my eyes, unable to suppress my growing smile. As the door closes behind Carla, I'm left alone with the remnants of last night's revelry, the promise of a brunch looming ahead, and the complexities of returning to a life I thought I'd left behind.

[harrysrealbo]

on one condition.

harry styles x original character

part one

word count: 3657

1 JUNE 2018

in the month of june, the sun rises around 5:25 am every morning in new york. sometimes it rises a few minutes earlier, and sometimes it rises a few minutes later, but lynn knew as soon as the first ray peaked its way through the blinds, her mother would be fully dressed, standing in the kitchen, and tapping her way through work emails that had mysteriously piled up overnight. growing up, lynn found this routine comforting because it never changed, weekends and holidays included. if she woke up and it was light outside, she knew her mom would be standing behind the breakfast bar with a stack of blueberry pancakes (made by her very wonderful au pair, elena) planted in front of her. she would sit on the stool across from her, and talk her mom's ear off. little lynn thought her mom's lack of responses was due to the fact that she was so tired from waking up so early every morning, but now-lynn realizes she just didn't really care that much.

her fingertips brush across the back of the stool sitting next to her, and it's almost like she can see a seven-year-old lynn sitting next to her. the slight glow of the numbers on the oven clock illuminating her features as she tells her mom about her chorus concert that was taking place in the evening. her grin widens as kathleen tells her she'll be there after she finishes work. although, elena will be the only familiar face she sees in the audience, and now-lynn knows it will always be like this. elena's familiar face amongst the crowd with her mother nowhere in sight.

the oven clock reads 5:13 am, and lynn decides to go over to the kitchen sink to splash some water on her face, trying to wash away any indication that might suggest she had not moved from the stool since she sat down nearly five hours prior. because that would be crazy, but also entirely true.

"you're up early," her mom's voice flows from the bottom of the staircase as soon as the first ray bounces off the granite kitchen counter, illuminating the room a bit more with its glow.

"i am," she reaches for the stool that she just got up from as her mom places a fresh cup of coffee in front of her.

kathleen says nothing else. instead, she reaches for her macbook that has been charging on the counter overnight, and lynn assumes she's immediately opening outlook. that's how it usually went the mornings after she'd spent the night. she'd stare at the wall for a few hours, trying not to let the sounds of her mother slamming the keys of the keyboard annoy her too much.

honestly, lynn didn't know what her mom did for work. she tried to explain it to her on a few occasions, but the only thing she understood was that it was extremely time-consuming. kathleen once said she was the only one in her office that had children, and she thought that maybe her mom should've followed in their footsteps.

"you'll be ready by 11, right? and you'll help me make sure the girls are ready?" kathleen says. she doesn't look at lynn until a few moments pass with no response. they make eye contact and her mom raises her brow. "the barbecue, lynn. remember?"

"right. i've got it. don't worry."

"your coffee's getting cold," her mom points out.

lynn tips the mug around before taking a sip. it's definitely cold, but she denies it and takes another sip before telling her mom she's wrong. there's really no reason to. it's only a cup of coffee, but she thinks she'll do just about anything to spite her.

her dad walks in and the entire atmosphere changes. he kisses kathleen's forehead and lynn can't help but cringe inside. it's absolutely sickening and she can't understand why her mom would ever take someone like him back. she had said lynn would understand when she was older, but it's been fifteen years and she still can't wrap her mind around it.

"good morning," he says as he pours himself a cup of coffee. "are the girls up?"

tuning out whatever her garbage father has to say is the only gift that lynn is thankful for. as soon as he opens his mouth, her ears magically turn off. it's something she'll be eternally grateful for because she thinks hearing peter's voice for more than four seconds would send her into a spiral.

growing up without a dad was a lot less horrific than some people may think. lynn didn't feel like she was missing out, and she didn't think her life was doomed to be a failure because of his absence. she honestly never thought much of her dad. that all changed when she was eleven though, and she walked in the door from school to see her parents moving all of her dad's belongings back into the same house he had moved out of eleven years prior (after having an affair with her first au pair before she had even turned one). needless to say, the sight of peter's face is enough to make now-lynn physically ill.

"are you going to be in such a sour mood all day, lynn?" she rolls her eyes at the words and makes no move to respond. it's silent once again, and the only sound that can be heard is kathleen's occasionally slurping.

it's nearing ten when her sisters finally wake up. jane is the first one down the steps. she's got the blanket she's had since she was born clenched in her fist as her other hand is holding the railing to make sure she doesn't tumble down the staircase. the little girl wordlessly makes her way to the kitchen, where she finds lynn making her blueberry pancakes covered in maple syrup.

"lynn," she yawns, fist rubbing her eyes. "you're back already?"

"m'only here for the barbecue mom insisted i go to."

"aw, man," the girl stabs a piece of her pancake and rests her head in her hand, a sigh pushing past her lips.

"i know. i miss you, too, jane." her fingers brush the other's hair away from her face as she eats. "i'll visit you a lot, and you know you and amelia are always invited over. all you have to do is ask."

jane only hums in response to her sister and puts all of her energy back to eating her pancakes. it's not long until amelia comes down the stairs. she looks almost as disheveled as their youngest sister. her hair is in a messy knot on top of her head, and she's still sporting last night's pajamas. lynn can't help but wonder where her mom went off to, and she feels a little queasy when amelia says she already knew lynn was visiting. simply because the kitchen smelled of food.

she makes sure jane's hair and teeth are brushed before finding her a little summer dress that screamed neighborhood barbecue, and then she braids amelia's hair away from her face before getting herself ready. there were only ten minutes before they had to leave, so lynn opts for a pink two-piece set she ordered from a random website online that probably specializes in drop shipping, and retouches her leftover makeup from yesterday before joining the two girls in the living room where they were watching some new disney movie that jane probably asked to be put on. it would be an understatement to say she was tired. her eyes felt heavy and she could barely hold her head up. she thinks that if she fell asleep now she could get out of this whole thing, but kathleen comes walking down the staircase, crushing her dreams of an afternoon nap.

"really lynn? that's what you're wearing?" and the girl should be upset at her mother's words. she really should, but after spending twenty-seven years hearing them, she's gotten used to them. "there's someone there i want you to meet."

lynn rolls her eyes as she walks to the foyer, "i'm not the next contestant on the bachelorette," she slips her shoe on. "and i'm definitely not dressing up for one of your friend's sons."

surprisingly, her mom drops it. lynn would be lying if she had said that she didn't find it the slightest bit alarming. her mom would've spent the entire two-minute-long drive trying to sell her on this mystery boy, but instead she reminds the girls that dance camp starts on monday... and then she asks lynn to take them.

when lynn gets out of the car, she can only focus on one thing, and that was how hot it was outside. it wasn't just a little uncomfortable. no, it was absolutely sweat-running-down-your-back roasting. she decides on pulling her hair up off of her neck which earns another comment from her mother. honestly, she tuned this one out, but she thinks she said something about lynn's masculine features becoming more prominent when her hair was tied back.

it's not long before kathleen starts introducing the girls to all of her friends. a woman asks if jane and amelia were her grandkids, and when her mom says no, she said that she couldn't believe how similar the girls looked to their nanny while nodding over at lynn.

there was honestly nothing she found more repulsing than this damn neighborhood barbecue. she hated it when she was seven, and she hates it now, twenty years later. it was hot and the air felt thick and humid. all she wanted was a nice long nap. she could picture it now. fresh, crisp, cool sheets and-

"lynn adams," kathleen's snapping her fingers in front of the girl's face, and it takes everything in her not to swat her mom's hand away. "don't be rude. this is my friend from yoga, marianne. she has a son-" and she doesn't know what else her mother says because as soon as the words leave her mouth, kathleen's voice sounds something similar to the bland tones of the parents in any charlie brown special, and before she knows it, marianne from yoga is hugging her and leading her towards a boy who looks like a young, unshowered, mick jagger cosplayer.

***

harry's parents invited him over for lunch, and he really couldn't say no. he missed his mom's home-cooked meals, and honestly, he really never cooks actual meals for himself. he's found that cheap vodka and whatever mixer he could find in his cabinets worked as a great substitute. he'd never admit it, but he was excited to see his parents. sure, he lives only twenty minutes away, but he doesn't really ever have time to make a visit. failing all of his classes and frequenting the town's bar really took all of his energy.

when harry gets to his parents, he sees his sister's car in the driveway, and he thinks it's going to be a nice little family meal, something he hasn't had since he started going to college. but it's not. and really, he should've known better. no one wants to be around him.

when he stepped inside, his family and family friends were waiting for him in the living room. they sat in a circle and they all held folded pieces of paper in their hands. it took them a minute to realize that they were hosting their own intervention.

the entire event was so uncomfortable, and it made harry hate himself more than he already had. he knew he had a problem, and he also knew that he could stop whenever he wanted to. he did, in fact. he only started drinking again because he was craving validation. it doesn't really make sense to anyone but him, but he found it was easier to get someone to go home with him after he had been drinking. it gave him the confidence he needed, simple as that.

when his mom started reading her note, she was sobbing, and it made harry cry, too. it wasn't because what she was saying moved something deep inside of him. it was because he couldn't understand why they felt the need to embarrass him in front of so many people he wasn't really comfortable with. a phone call asking harry if he was okay would've worked just as well, but they never called unless it was to tell him just how disappointed they were in him.

so now he was at this stupid event for a neighborhood he hasn't lived in since he turned 18. his mom had asked him to come, and he felt like he couldn't say no. he was scared he'd push her into holding a second intervention, and honestly, he didn't think he'd be able to handle that.

it was hot and noisy, and there were kids everywhere. harry hated kids. they were gross and dirty, and they always found a way to piss him off. they were part of the reason that harry was so big on safe sex. he would literally have to change his name and move continents if he were to get anyone pregnant.

he's sitting at one of the picnic tables alone. his dad was lucky enough to skip the whole thing, and gemma claimed she was busy. his mom didn't mind though, and harry couldn't help but wonder why she was so adamant about him going. originally, he had thought that maybe she had wanted to spend some quality time with him, but nearly an hour had passed and marianne was still talking to her book club mom friends, not really showing interest in introducing them to her son. harry wasn't too surprised, though. his mom never really introduced him to her friends anymore.

marianne loves him. harry knows that. she only ever wants what's best for him, but she always goes about it the wrong way. maybe some kids needed an hour-long phone call lecture about how they'll never amount to anything if they don't finish their degrees. his sister was one of those kids. he remembers sitting at the kitchen table while his mom scolded her on the phone, and her dad did in person. john had driven the six hours to gemma's college town to bail her out of the county jail after a crazy night during her freshman year. needless to say, after that phone call, it never happened again. what his parents failed to realize was that harry wasn't gemma, and maybe he just needed someone to hold his hand and tell him everything would be okay.

he notices marianne moving away from her book club group and towards a family. there was an older couple, a girl that looked about his age, and two younger children. harry couldn't help but wonder what that family dynamic was. perhaps she was the girls' nanny, or maybe she was even a third in the parents' relationship. if it was the latter, it would definitely be a little harder to get her to sleep with him, but he always liked a good challenge.

"harry," his mom pulls him from his thoughts. he blinks and suddenly his mom and the nanny (slash possible unicorn) were standing in front of him at the other side of the table. "this is lynn, kathleen's daughter."

"who's kathleen?" he takes a drink from his cup (which held nothing but ice cubes and water) before wiping the wetness off of his mouth with the back of his hand.

marianne's face turns red, "kathleen from yoga." she says it slowly like it should ring a bell, but harry's not too familiar with the attendees of the 'Yoga Over 40' class. "kathleen and i thought you guys should talk. maybe get to know each other today," and before harry can open his mouth to say no thank you, marianne is pulling a chair out for the girl and then walks away.

"i'm lynn," she says like marianne didn't introduce her thirty seconds ago. she holds out her hand, but harry's already in a foul mood and he senses lynn (he thinks that is a terrible name) would be an easy target to humiliate.

so instead of shaking her hand like a decent human being, he looks at her over the top of his sunglasses and pops the spearmint gum he's been chewing since he got here. "not interested."

"don't flatter yourself," she rolls her eyes and leans forward, resting her forehead on the palms of her hands before crossing her arms in front of her.

"so you're telling me you weren't just begging my mom to introduce us?" his eyebrow quirks and he has a small smile forming on his lips. "'cause it looked an awful lot like that."

she smiles at him, white teeth and all, "trust me when i say i would rather act as a speed bump at the entrance of this neighborhood, waiting to be taken out of my misery by an unsuspecting hybrid toyota prius."

"weirdly specific," he takes another drink. "is that some sort of kink of yours?"

"maybe," her eyes bore into his. the look on her face is so bland, harry can't quite get a read on her. she looked the opposite of him. lynn had blonde hair and blue eyes. the only thing the two had in common was their curly hair, and so harry was obligated to think that it wasn't totally unattractive. "is yours watching mommy pick up girls at the neighborhood picnic for you?"

"ha. ha," harry's voice is emotionless. "tell me, lynn. have you ever considered going into comedy?"

"no, but i'm certain that everyone in the local comedy crowd would love my work. i'm thinking i could enter a piece titled 'desperate mom tries to pawn off loser son'. what do you think? i could credit you if you'd like." she smiles at him again, and he can tell by her eyes that her smile is fake. harry thinks if she were wearing sunglasses he might think she was trying to make a joke rather than a dig at him.

"kathleen thought we should talk," he reminds her. "i wouldn't be climbing on your high horse just yet."

the silence that followed hung around them like a cloud, and it was quite awkward. lynn didn't seem to mind though. she was off in her own world, daydreaming about god knows what. if harry were to take a guess, he'd bet that she was thinking of fairies and rainbows, or whatever else children under the age of eight think about during their free time.

"do you want to get out of here?" harry's popping the gum in his mouth again. "we could have sex. i will say you're not my usual type, but i can always appreciate a good body.

"gross," she leans back in her chair, her face showing disgust almost as if his words could contaminate her. "what's your usual type? wait let me guess," she taps her finger on her chin for a moment. "brown hair and pretty green eyes. i assume it's the closest thing you'll get to fulfilling the fantasy you have of fucking yourself."

"you think my eyes are pretty," he says, completely disregarding whatever else she said.

"i can appreciate nice eyes when i see them," she says. "don't fall in love with me yet."

lynn's wearing her hair pulled away from her face, and harry thinks it suits her. she has some sort of matching outfit on. it's shorts and a button-up top, made out of the same soft material. it's baby pink, like her lips, and she's dainty?? harry doesn't know if that's the right word, but she looks small and soft. like if she were in an arm wrestling competition with a fly, the fly would win. the tiniest smile, really it was barely a smile, makes its way to his face because... well, he thinks she's pretty.

"got something on my face?" she asks, and harry's waiting for a snide remark to follow, but she's serious. lynn has no idea that he just spent the last five minutes shamelessly checking her out. the fact that he was caught makes his cheeks burn a little, and harry shakes his head.

"you know, maybe we should get out of here after all," her fingertips brush over the back of his hand as she speaks.

"you want me to rock your world, huh blondie?"

she nods and sucks her bottom lip between her teeth. harry feels his whole body growing hot as she leans towards him again. "you wanna know what would really rock my world, harry?"

"hmm?" he hums, leaning forward to meet her in the middle of the table. honestly, this whole thing was wildly inappropriate for the high point hills annual family barbecue, but he didn't really care.

"you taking me back to yours," she leans even closer and harry can feel her words against his ear. "and letting me have the longest, most-mind blowing nap i've ever had."

"you're sick, lynn," he pulls away from her to see one of her fake smiles across her face. "but, i never leave a woman unsatisfied. let's go."

"really?"

"your prius wet dream sounds hotter with every second that passes here," he stretches his arms above his head when he stands up. "and not having to hear your voice is a huge plus."

"has anyone ever told you how charming you are, harry?" she accidentally bumps him with her hip as they walk towards his car together.

"your mom has multiple times actually. she tells me after every night we spend together," and he bumps her back, maybe a little too hard because she almost loses her balance when their hips collide.

[harrysrealbo]

Double Crossed Masterlist

☆

"The music I make, it is not just for me mon ange, it is for us."

☆

now that we don't talk

is it over now?

my eyes

18

satellite 

sex drugs etc.

white ferrari

the 1

gold rush

slow down

matilda

feels like

don't blame me

midnight rain

the beach 

say don't go

fix you 

jealousy, jealousy

end game

gold rush

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter 5

[harrysrealbo]

Chapter four

welcome :)

word count: 2304

cross posted on wattpad

warnings: badly translated french

Write a chapter from amelias point of view, they just got to club mk in monaco, the celebration is just starting but the club is alive in a way shes never seen it before: the dj grins when he sees her announcing “Notre porte-bonheur est arrivé ! Boissons gratuites toute la soirée pour celle qui nous a apporté la chance dont nous avions besoin pour gagner!”

Lando laughs tugging her to the bar, lando only takes a shot with her before dissapearing into the crowd, Charles is there, already too far gone as he watches her from his booth in the club

Pierre gasly and kika join them, kika and amelia have too many drinks to count while pierre watches them more than amused. kika pulling amelia to the dance floor, amelia is already tipsy as she dances with the girl

Max joins them pulling amelia in for a hug on the crowded dance floor “It has been far too long!”

Kelly grins smiling as she takes max’s hand “I told you amelia we’ve all missed you.”

Charles makes his way towards them, the crowd parting letting the winner make his way to them, he looks annoyed as he steps into the small circle pulling amelia into his side “You are my goodluck charm no?”

She glares up at him as he pulls her closer against him “I am no ones lucky charm, just a silly coincidence.” she argues

He leans close, his lips brushing her ear, to outsiders it looks like something else is happening as he whispers “always my lucky charm mon ange.”

 Start it like this “The club is loud, so loud that I can;\’t hear my own thoughts.”

The club is loud, so loud that I can't hear my own thoughts. The pulsating beat reverberates through the walls, and the energy of celebration permeates the air. Club MK in Monaco is alive in a way I've never seen before, and the celebration has only just begun.

As Lando tugs me towards the bar, the DJ grins when he sees me, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Notre porte-bonheur est arrivé ! Boissons gratuites toute la soirée pour celle qui nous a apporté la chance dont nous avions besoin pour gagner!" The announcement echoes through the speakers, and the crowd erupts in cheers. I can't help but laugh, the realization sinking in that tonight, the drinks are on me.

Lando chuckles, teasing me as we approach the bar. "I guess drinks on you tonight, Amelia."

I playfully roll my eyes, shaking my head. "Just for tonight, Lando. Don't get used to it."

The bartender, catching wind of the DJ's announcement, slides a couple of shots our way, a gesture that's met with cheers from those around us. The atmosphere is electric, and even though the night is just beginning, it feels like the peak of the celebration.

As I take a sip of the celebratory drink, the music, the lights, and the cheers blend into a symphony of celebration. The night unfolds, each moment infused with the magic that only Monaco can offer. 

Kika grabs my hand, her eyes gleaming mischievously. "Amelia, tonight, we drink like we're celebrating every race we missed together."

Its not until Kika grabs my hand that I realize Lando had long since disappeared into the crowd, and that the space beside me was now occupied by her a pierre.

I raise an eyebrow, already feeling the effects of the alcohol. "Every race? We might not make it to the end of the night."

She grins, pulling me closer to the side "Challenge accepted."

The bar tender slides more shots our way, I’m not sure what he’s feeding us at this point but I’m in no state to argue, not as I feel his eyes on my from across the room, and not as I feel whatever strength I had begin to slip through my fingers,

Kika raises her glass, a glint of mischief in her eyes "To Amelia, our good luck charm!"

I chuckle, clinking my glass with hers. "I'm just glad to be here, enjoying the celebration."

Pierre watches our antics with amusement. "You two are a riot. I've never seen someone hold their liquor as well as Kika."

Kika grins, leaning on my shoulder. "It's a talent, my friend."

As the night progresses, the club transforms into a kaleidoscope of lights and music. Kika pulls me towards the bar for another round of drinks. "Amelia, you need to try this one. It's my secret concoction!"

I take the offered drink, the sweet and tangy flavors dancing on my tongue. "This is dangerous, Kika."

"That's the point!" She laughs, and we clink our glasses together.

Kika grabs my hand, pulling me towards the dance floor. Already tipsy, I sway to the music, losing myself in the intoxicating atmosphere. The lights, the beats, and the company create a whirlwind of sensations.

As we dance, I steal a glance across the room. Charles is still in his booth, engaged in conversation with Pierre. Despite the lively celebration around him, his eyes remain fixed on us. I can't decipher the emotions in his gaze from this distance, but I feel the weight of his attention like a magnetic pull.

Kika notices my distraction and follows my gaze. "Someone's watching."

I shrug, trying to dismiss the intensity of the moment. "Let him watch. It's just a celebration."

Kika smirks, twirling me around. "I think he's more than just a spectator, Amelia."

I laugh, losing myself in the whirl of the dance. The night takes on a dreamlike quality, and as the music swells, I forget the world outside the pulsating walls of Club MK.

"Amelia!" Max grins, pulling me away from my friends and into his arms. "It has been far too long." He releases his hold on me, his hand finding Kelly's as he pulls her close.

"I've told you everyone has been missing you!" the older woman grins, taking in the club. "You've been having fun, yeah?"

"Free drinks for me!" I laugh, the words tumbling out of my mouth as my world sways. The celebratory atmosphere, the vibrant lights, and the pulsating music create a dizzying concoction. I glance across the room, trying to settle myself. Either I was far drunker than I thought I was, or Charles was making his way towards us  with nothing but pure determination in his stride. As he reaches us, he pulls me into his side, a possessive gesture that doesn't go unnoticed. "There’s my porte-bonheur.”

I glance up at him, amusement dancing in my eyes despite the haze of the night. "I am no one's lucky charm, just a silly coincidence."

He leans in, his lips brushing against my ear. His words, filled with an intensity that cuts through the noise of the club, are for me alone. "Always my lucky charm, mon ange."

A mix of emotions swirl within me—amusement, defiance, and a hint of something that I try to push away. Charles's presence, the touch of his hand at my waist, ignites a familiar spark that refuses to be extinguished. The world around us fades as we stand in the midst of the pulsating celebration, the boundary between friend and something more becoming increasingly blurred.

Max and Kelly exchange glances, an unspoken acknowledgment passing between them. Kelly smirks, offering a sly comment. "Looks like some things never change huh."

“This has changed.” I shake my head, feeling the weight of Charles's gaze on me. 

The club transforms into a battleground of emotions as Charles follows me around, his hands seeking every opportunity to touch me, to reconnect. "Amelia," he murmurs, his lips dangerously close to mine.

I pull away, reminding him firmly, "You're in a relationship, Charles."

He smirks, the glint of mischief in his eyes undeterred. "Doesn't mean I can't appreciate a lucky charm when I see one."

As the night progresses, the boundary I had worked so hard to build up over the past two years blurs even further. Charles's attempts to bridge the gap between us become bolder, his desire palpable in the heated glances and lingering touches.

"Charles, you need to respect your relationship."

"I can't help it if my good luck charm is irresistible." He smirks, undeterred

I slip away, pretending to head to the bathroom. The pulsating music and the vibrant lights provide a temporary sanctuary as I navigate through the crowd. Kelly catches my eye, a knowing smile on her face. "Trouble in paradise?"

I sigh, shaking my head. "Just Charles being Charles."

She nods softly, her eyes soft as she takes me in “When I didn’t see Alex I thought he’d be like this.”

“I’m not a homewrecker kels.”

“I don’t think theres really a home for you to wreck, I don’t think theres been one since you left.”

I shake my head, her words replaying in the back of my mind as I make my way through the club, I can feel Charles's eyes on me. His persistence, both flattering and frustrating, adds another layer to the night's complexities. I find a quiet corner, taking a moment to collect my thoughts. The night, which began with celebration, now holds a tension I hadn't anticipated.

I decide to leave the club, slipping down the dark hallway of the bathroom and through the exit door into the cool night air. As I step outside, the distant sounds of the music fade, and I take a deep breath, attempting to shake off the conflicting emotions that Charles's presence always seems to stir within me.

The night air outside the club is a welcome contrast to the heat and chaos within. I decide to walk home, the familiar streets of Monaco offering a soothing backdrop to my turbulent thoughts. My phone vibrates persistently in my pocket, but I resist the urge to check it, choosing to focus on the rhythmic sound of my footsteps.

As I pass by Jack Monaco, a wave of nostalgia washes over me. The familiar aroma is what lures me inside. 

"Amelia!" he exclaims, recognizing me immediately. "It's been too long. The usual?"

I return his smile, a mix of gratitude and fondness. "Yes, please."

As he prepares my order, I find a corner seat, the memories of my teenage years flooding back. I had worked here during summers and weekends, sometimes pulling double shifts to save up money. Back then, it was a means to support be able to attend races, or to have a bit of extra cash for treats or surprises whenever we were out. There had been too many times I had sat in this very spot with arthur, or charles, charing this exact dessert as I soaked up the moments I could with them.

The manager brings over a plate of tiramisu, the delicate layers of coffee-soaked ladyfingers and mascarpone filling a comforting sight. "On the house, Amelia. You don't need to pay."

"You still remember that?" I smile softly at him.

He nods, a twinkle in his eye. "How could I forget? You used to let me sneak away with a few pastries when you were the manager here. It's the least I can do."

I appreciate the gesture, but I leave a generous tip on the table, knowing how long nights like these could be during the grand prix. "Thank you. It's good to be back."

As I savor the tiramisu, the sweetness of the dessert contrasts with the bittersweet emotions swirling within me. The night, filled with unexpected encounters and conflicting feelings, finds a moment of solace in the familiar embrace of home. I sit there for a while, lost in my thoughts, finding comfort in the echoes of the past and the taste of a dessert that holds a myriad of memories.

The crisp air of the early morning surrounds me as I leave. The sky is tinged with the soft hues of sunrise, casting a serene glow over the city. Still feeling the effects of the night, I start walking home, my footsteps echoing in the quiet streets.

It doesn't take long for me to realize that I'm not heading towards the apartment I've rented. No, instead, I'm instinctively walking towards the one I used to share with Charles. The realization hits me like a jolt;

"Foutu idiot," I scold myself, veering off course. I take a detour, redirecting my steps towards an apartment I know I am always welcome in. The laughter and music from the Grand Prix celebrations still echo in my ears as I approach their building.

I knock on the door, and it swings open to reveal Carla, a mixture of surprise and joy lighting up her face. "Amelia!" she exclaims, pulling me into a tight hug. "What’re you doing here??"

I giggle, the alcohol still coursing through my veins. "Lost my keys. Can I crash here for a bit?"

Arthur, appearing from somewhere in the apartment, joins in the excitement. "Amelia! Long time no see!"

I grin, feeling a warmth in my chest. "Missed you guys."

Carla ushers me inside, pulling me to their bedroom. The apartment is a familiar haven, filled with memories of laughter and firsts, I could remember helping her pick the very comforter that now covered us. 

“Pourquoi ne regardons-nous pasun film? Nous n’avons pas besoinde parler si vous ne le voulez pas.”

I nod softly, settling my head on her shoulder as she scrolls through the movie options. I'm still tipsy, and the giggles escape effortlessly as we settle on a choice. 

“I’m sorry little leclerc, I’ve stolen your bed and your girlfriend.”

He waves me off, snagging one of the free pillows “I’ve got to be out soon anyway Ames it’s not a bother.” he leans over giving Carla a kiss on her cheek before leaving us be. 

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[harrysrealbo]

Chapter 3

word count: 1138

cross posted on wattpad

warnings: badly translated french

4

"But it's not just any orange, Ames; it's papaya. You can't sit with McLaren and keep calling it orange." Lando scrunches his nose, taking in the look on my face. "And don't look at me like it doesn't matter; I swear it does. They're my papayas."

"Right, papaya," I say absentmindedly, my eyes wandering and drinking in every bit of my surroundings as we stand outside his driver's room. Lando's sticky fingers wrap around my wrist, pulling my attention to him. "You okay, Ames?"

I offer a small smile, trying to push away the swirl of conflicting emotions within me. "Yeah, just taking it all in. It's been a while."

Lando nods understandingly, "It's a lot, especially after staying away for so long. But you're doing great. Everyone's thrilled to have you back." Lando grins, giving my wrist a playful squeeze.

His words warm my heart, and I appreciate the reassurance. "Thanks, Lando. It means a lot."

He grins, ruffling my hair in a playful manner. "Now, let's get going. We've got a night to celebrate."

As Lando heads into the driver's room to freshen up, I decide to take a stroll through the paddock. The air is electric with the victory and the celebration that follows. Charles's win is a triumph for Ferrari, and I can't help but feel a sense of pride despite the complexities of our past.

Before I could drift too far into my thoughts, a familiar voice interrupted my reverie. "Amelia, how have you been?"

I turned to find Pierre Gasly, his easy smile and friendly demeanor a comforting presence. "Pierre, I was actually on the way to see Kika" I greeted him warmly, "I've been well, thank you. And congratulations on a great race."

He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "It's been too long, you know? We've all missed you.."

I arched an eyebrow, intrigued by the hint in his words. "Missed me, huh? How could that be?"

Pierre smirked, a playful glint in his eyes. "The energy, the support—it's different when you're not around. Let's just say everyone seems to perform a little better with you here." There's an unspoken acknowledgment of Charles, a glance towards the Ferrari garage, and I can feel the weight of his presence even before I catch his eyes. 

Pierre caught his eye nodding a little as the monégasque man made his wat towards us , he offered an apologetic smile. "I'll grab Kika for you. Give you two some space."

“Oh you ass!” I curse shaking my head watching Pierre slip into the business of the paddock

"Amelia," Charles greets me, his voice carrying a mix of formality and an undercurrent of something more profound he nods “He is a bit of an ass eh?”

"Charles," I respond, nodding curtly “Probably a bigger ass than you in this moment, give me an hour and I’m sure my response won’t be the same.”

“Atleast I am a successful ass.” he tuts stepping closer to me 

"Congratulations," I offer, “Can’t help but to be proud of you for bringing the win home to Monaco. ‘M sure that your family is proud.”

His eyes hold a flicker of something more, a silent acknowledgment of the shared history that has shaped us. "Thank you, Amelia. It means a lot."

"You've been successful too," he remarked, his tone carrying a mix of admiration and nostalgia "Living in Italy, finishing your degree."

"How did you know?"

He shrugged, a casual gesture that didn't quite match the intensity in his eyes. "Lando told me."

"You've been keeping up with me through Lando?" A bitter smile tugged at my lips as I shook my head

He met my gaze, unflinching. "How else was I supposed to? You shut me out."

"You broke my heart, Charles," I said, the words slipping out with a raw honesty that hung in the air. "The only way I was getting over it was getting away from you."

The admission seemed to hang between us, the weight of our shared history pressing down on the present. Charles's jaw tensed, a silent acknowledgment of the pain we had both endured. The pain of that moment, the abrupt end to a ten-year relationship, had etched itself into my soul. He claimed he needed to focus on racing, that it was for the best - he got with my childhood bestfriend not even three months later. Sharing the apartment we shared, the bed we had bought together with the same girl whos mother was at my home with my family more often than I was. I waas devastated and I’d be lying if I said I was okay now. 

He nodded, the tension between us refusing to dissipate. "I just... I wanted to make sure you're okay."

"I'm fine," I replied, my tone sharper than intended. "I've been fine."

Charles reached out, attempting to pull me into a hug, but I instinctively stepped away. The unspoken tension crackled between us, a magnetic pull that defied logic. "Amelia," he murmured, his gaze searching mine for a sign of something he perhaps hoped was still there.

Before the silence could stretch into awkwardness, Pierre returned with Kika. "Found her!" he announced with a cheerful grin.

"Amelia!" Kika exclaimed, pulling me into a warm hug. "They were right! You are the good luck charm."

Charles watched the exchange, his brow furrowed. "Who is they?"

Kika hummed, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "Well, you're the one that started it; everyone's just picked it up. Twitter is all over the place about our good luck charm." She laughed, kissing my cheek.

I chuckled, trying to dispel the notion. "I am not a good luck charm; it's just a coincidence."

Charles nodded softly, his gaze steady. "You'll come to the next one then? To show it's just a coincidence."

I glared at him. "I wasn't planning on it."

Lando wrapped his arms around my shoulders, his proximity drawing a sharp look from Charles. "It's the perfect excuse to come, Ames."

Charles's eyes bore into us, a visible annoyance flickering across his features as he watched the two of us. 

"Charles, why don't you join us? We're heading out," Pierre invited, his eyes moving from Lando and I to Charles.

"I think I'll have to take you up on that offer, mate. After all, the first win of the season, and it's my home race." He nodded, his eyes never straying from mine 

Lando grinned. "We'll see you at MK then, man."

I shook my head, feeling annoyed as I cut my eyes at Lando. Mumbling under my breath as I pulled away from the younger boy, "Des conneries, c'est juste des conneries," a mix of frustration and unspoken emotions lingered in the air as I separated from the group, finding solace in the car.

[harrysrealbo]

Chapter two

welcome :)

word count: 1165

cross posted on wattpad

warnings: badly translated french

3

Monaco Grand Prix; 23 May 2021

The soft rays of the morning sun streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the room. The subtle hum of the city below signaled the beginning of another day in the iconic principality. I stirred from my slumber, blinking away the remnants of sleep as I became aware of Charles Leclerc's presence beside me.

"mon ange," Charles whispered softly, his hand trailing up and down my back with a gentle touch. The endearment sent a shiver down my spine, a sweet refrain that had become a familiar melody in the symphony of our relationship.

I turned to face him, meeting those hazel eyes that held a warmth and tenderness unique to him. "We need to get up," he murmured, his voice carrying a hint of reluctance, as if he wished to prolong the cocoon of intimacy we had created.

I sighed, not quite ready to relinquish the comfort of the bed. "Can't we stay here a bit longer?" I suggested, my fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest.

Charles chuckled, the sound reverberating through the room. "As much as I'd love that, we have a race to attend, my love."

The reality of the day ahead settled in, and I groaned playfully. "Do we have to? Can't we just stay in bed and avoid the chaos of the paddock?"

He chuckled again, leaning in to press a soft kiss on my forehead. "I wish we could, but duty calls."

I playfully slapped his chest, feigning annoyance. "Always prioritizing the car over me."

He grinned, those watercolored eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, you know how it is. The car doesn't complain about my driving." 

I couldn’t help but laugh shaking my head as he pulls me closer to him, the lazy kisses he pressed against my cheeks only making my giggles grow. 

Finally relenting, Charles reluctantly untangled himself from the embrace, our laughter lingering in the air as we began the process of getting ready for the day. 

As Charles reached for his Ferrari polo, I pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder. "Good luck today," I murmured, my lips grazing his skin.

He turned to me, his gaze tender. "You know you're my lucky charm."

I smirked, playfully rolling my eyes. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Leclerc."

The room was filled with a comfortable silence, punctuated by shared glances and tender touches as we moved in sync. There was a familiarity in the routine, a dance we had perfected over time.  It was moments like these, the quiet morning rituals, that I cherished the most. Despite the glamour and intensity of the Formula 1 world, it was these stolen moments of normalcy that grounded us.

"You take forever to get ready," I teased, reaching for my bag with a playful glint in my eyes.

Charles chuckled, his fingers deftly working through the buttons of his polo. "Well, you know, a man must look presentable."

As he fluffed his unruly hair, I couldn't resist running my fingers through the dark waves, a fond smile playing on my lips. "Presentable, huh? I thought the messy look was in."

He grinned, capturing my hand and pressing a kiss to my knuckles. "Not when you're dating Charles Leclerc, it seems."

The leather seats of the Ferrari enveloped us as Charles and I settled into the car for the short ride to the paddock. The hum of the engine provided a steady soundtrack to our morning ritual, and the anticipation for the day ahead vibrated in the air.

I glanced at Charles, his focus momentarily on the road ahead. I reached for the small bag of candies nestled between us, my fingers brushing against his as we both reached for a piece. The familiar banter began, as it always did, with Charles playfully accusing me of stealing the best ones.

"You can't just pick out all the carmel ones, Amelia. That's cheating!" he teased, a playful glint in his eyes.

I grinned, popping a candy into my mouth. "I have a sixth sense for the best ones. It's a skill, really."

Charles chuckled, his hand finding mine in the shared space between us. Soft touches, familiar and comforting, as the scenery of Monaco passed by in a blur.

Charles and I sat side by side, the air thick with anticipation, though our conversation flowed with the ease of familiarity.

As we approached a stop sign, I shifted in my seat, my mind briefly drifting away from the race ahead. Charles, ever vigilant, noticed my distraction. "Hey," he said, his voice soft, "buckle up, mon ange."

I shot him a half-smile, my fingers absentmindedly playing with the edge of the seatbelt. "I'll do it in a sec."

But Charles, always the responsible one, wasn't having it. His hand reached over, fingers deftly securing the seatbelt across my chest. "Safety first, love."

I laughed, a musical sound that filled the car. "You're one to talk. You're never buckled unless you have to be."

He grinned, his eyes dancing with mischief. "But I am not...​​comment disent-ils... precious cargo."

I rolled my eyes playfully. "Oh, so now I'm precious cargo?"

Charles leaned in, his lips grazing my temple. "Always have been, always will be."

The warmth of his touch lingered, a comforting presence as we navigated the winding streets of Monaco. The banter continued, a dance of shared jokes and shared history that defined the unspoken connection between us.

As we approached the paddock, the atmosphere in the car shifted. Charles nodded to himself, a determined look in his eyes. "I'll win this one."

I nodded in agreement. "Of course, Cha. For Jules and your papa, and most importantly, for yourself too."

"And for you too." He grinned at me, his hand guiding mine out of the car.

"For me?" I couldn't help but smile at his words. 

"Everything I do, I do for you." Charles held my hand to his heart for a moment, the sincerity in his gaze undeniable, before placing a chaste kiss on my lips. "Your name is on my helmet too, no?"

I laughed, shaking my head. "Always so sweet, Cha."

As we walked through the paddock, Charles's hand intertwined with mine, the camaraderie and shared history of our journey in Formula 1 surrounded us. The air was charged with excitement, and as we approached the Ferrari garage, I couldn't shake the warmth that Charles's words had ignited within me. The paddock, with its familiar sights and sounds, welcomed us back into the fold of the racing world, where love, dedication, and the pursuit of victory intertwined on the asphalt of Monaco.

It wasnt until we had found our place in the Ferrari garage that Charles wrapped an arm around my waist. "You know, I think the car likes having you around. We always seem to do well when you're here."

I raised an eyebrow, teasing him. "Are you saying I bring good luck?"

"Absolutely. You're my lucky charm." He grinned, his gaze filled with affection.

[harrysrealbo]

Chapter One

welcome :)

word count: 2003

cross posted on wattpad

warnings: badly translated french

2

It had been two long years since I last set foot on a paddock. The memories of Monaco 2021 were still etched vividly in my mind—the cheers of the crowd, the pulsating energy, and the bitter taste of disappointment. He had been set to race, but destiny had other plans. A DNS, a race skipped, and a relationship shattered in the cold night of the principality.

As I approached the paddock entrance, my heart raced with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. The air was charged with the familiar scent of gasoline and the low hum of engines, but this time, it felt different. I was no longer the carefree girl cheering on her boyfriend; I was Amelia, a silent supporter who had watched races from the comfort of her living room for far too long.

The memories flooded back as I stepped onto the paddock, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the Formula 1 world. The clinking of tools, the distant hum of engines being tested, and the occasional bursts of laughter from the team members created a symphony of sounds that had been absent from my life for too long.

As I stood there, lost in the whirlwind of emotions and memories, a voice, smooth and familiar, cut through the ambient noise of the paddock. "Amelia," the voice called out, and as I turned, there he was—Lewis Hamilton, grinning with that trademark charm that had made him a legend both on and off the track.

"It's been too long," he said, his eyes reflecting genuine warmth. The corners of his mouth curled into a friendly smile that seemed to erase the time and distance that had kept us apart.

A mixture of surprise and joy crossed my face as I registered the unexpected encounter. Lewis had always been a constant in this ever-changing world of Formula 1, a familiar face that transcended the rivalries and competition. His presence was a comforting reminder of the camaraderie that existed beyond the fierce battles on the track.

"Lewis," I replied, a genuine smile breaking across my face in response to his infectious grin. "Yeah, it really has been."

He stepped closer, his eyes scanning my face as if trying to read the unspoken chapters of the past two years. "I've missed having you around. The paddock isn't the same without you."

His words resonated with a sincerity that touched me. Despite the competitive nature of the sport, there was a sense of community among the drivers, a shared understanding of the sacrifices and challenges they faced. Lewis, in particular, had always been a pillar of support, a friend even when our paths didn't cross often.

"I've missed it too," I admitted, the honesty of the moment lingering in the air between us.

Lewis pulled me to his side for a moment, his grin softening into a more contemplative expression. "Life moves fast, doesn't it? But sometimes, we find our way back to where we belong."

It was at this moment our exchange that caught the attention of nearby media, the paddock went into a frenzy. Cameras flashed, and reporters hurriedly moved in our direction, eager to capture any interaction between the two of us. I hadn't anticipated the level of attention this return would attract.

Lewis grinned, soaking up the attention as he leaned in slightly. "Seems like the paddock missed you, Amelia."

A chuckle escaped my lips. "Or maybe they just missed the drama. It's been a while since I've been part of the circus."

His grin persisted as he gestured towards the Ferrari garage. "So, are you with Ferrari this race?"

I shook my head. "Supporting, always. But I'm actually a guest of Lando. I'll be sitting with his family."

Lewis raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. "Lando? Did you ask him, or did he ask you?"

"I asked him," I replied,  with a small hum "I thought it would be a more low-key return, you know?" I laugh, shaking my head. “At the moment he seemed like the safest option; he's been bugging me to come watch.”

Lewis laughed, a hearty sound that resonated through the garage. "You could have asked any of us, you know that, right? We'd be happy to have you around."

“Not everyone.” I remind softly 

“The ones who matter would’ve, you know that Ames.”

There's no words that fall from my mouth, only a soft smile because even after two years away, two years of healing my heart still knew who mattered the most.

As the media continued to capture our conversation, Lewis flashed another grin. "Well, Amelia, welcome back to the circus. It's always more fun with you around."

As Lewis and I continued our conversation in the buzzing paddock, the distinctive voice of Lando Norris broke through the ambient noise. He approached with a bemused expression, shaking his head as he spoke, "This was not what I expected when I promised you a quiet race."

Lewis chuckled, offering a reassuring grin. "You couldn't have expected this to go any other way, Lando."

Lando, let out an exaggerated sigh. "Well, you know, I was hoping for a bit of peace and quiet. Maybe some tea and biscuits in the garage." he grinned at me, a teasing glint in his eyes

"In this paddock? Dream on, mate." Lewis threw an arm around Lando's shoulder as we walked towards the McLaren garage. 

"If you hadn't stopped her, she would've gotten in without an issue. The media's been gone for ages." Lando, shook his head looking slightly offended.

I shook my head, smiling softly. "It's okay, Lando. I just didn't want to step on anyone's toes."

"You mean you didn't want to step on Charles' toes."

Lewis nodded in agreement. "That's exactly what she means."

Lando, still adjusting to the idea of a 'quiet' race weekend, flashed a mischievous grin. "Well, Amelia, welcome to the chaos. I hope you're ready for it."

As Lando departed, leaving me to navigate the bustling paddock on my own, I sought refuge in a quieter corner where Lily, Kika, Kelly, and surprisingly, Alexandra, had gathered. Lily, always exuberant, leaped up at the sight of me, engulfing me in an immodest hug that spoke volumes of her excitement.

"Amelia! It's been ages!" Lily exclaimed, the warmth in her voice a stark contrast to the tension that lingered in the air.

The other women echoed Lily's sentiment, expressing their joy at seeing me after such a long absence. All except Alexandra, who regarded me with an icy reserve.

"And you are?" Alexandra asked, her tone cool and detached.

"Amelia Klein," I replied, offering a soft smile despite the chill in the air.

From that moment, Alexandra went silent, retreating into her phone and shooting occasional glances in my direction. The tension between us was palpable. 

"God, where have you been, Ames? You dropped off the face of the earth," Kelly shook her head, her gaze meeting mine as we took each other in for the first time in years. 

"Outside of your sporadic Instagram dumps and what Lando spreads around the paddock, I have no clue what you've been up to," Lily added, nodding in agreement.

I couldn't help but snort, shaking my head. "I can't tell that man anything, can I? He's like a toddler."

 "Exactly like a toddler.” Kika nodded, “You should ask him who he talks about you to the most."

Lily shook her head, elbow meeting the other girl's ribs "Well, catch us up."

I took a deep breath, preparing to share the condensed version of the last two years of my life. "I've been living in Italy with my brother, it’s nice being able to stay with him. I only ever come home to Monaco to see my family for the holidays.” a soft hum escapes my lips as I play with the lanyard around my neck. “I worked hard to get my degree early - god I thought I’d never finish honest;y. I don’t have a secure job set up yet but I have helped some newer publishing houses get their shit together." I explained, a mixture of pride and nostalgia in my voice. "It's been hard not being able to be home you know? Being here it's like.. Being whole again. But I'll keep doing it as long as it means Cha—" I halted mid-sentence, my eyes drifting involuntarily to Alexandra, a tight smile on my face. The unspoken words lingered in the air, a testament to the complexities that life in the paddock brought with it. As I continued, I hoped the conversation would shift away from the intricacies of my personal life and back to the camaraderie that had drawn us together in the first place, and it did as the girls took turn gushing about their lives, their plans and how the past two years had shaped them into the people they are today.

My phone buzzed, I ignored it, immediately pressing the button to silence it as I laughed at Lily’s impression of Alex. It wasn't until the third time I had attempted to silence the call that I forced myself to pick up, his name took over my screen. I held my breath for a moment before I held the phone to my ear “Hello?”. He ignore all pleasantries, immediately responding in French, he questioned my allegiance, "Vous êtes ici, mais vous ne pouvez pas soutenir Ferrari?"

I excused myself from the conversation with the other girls, retreating to a more secluded spot as the tension between Charles and me spilled into the airwaves.

"La seule fois où je n'ai pas soutenu Ferrari, c'était pour te soutenir, Charles. Vous le savez mieux que quiconque." I replied with frustration coloring my words.

"Oh, donc tu soutiens Ferrari, mais pourtant tu parles à tout le monde sauf à moi?" he retorted, the lines of communication strained.

"Pourquoi t'en soucierais-tu si je ne te parle pas, Cha ? Tu m'as dit que si on ne parlait plus, ce serait comme gagner un championnat, et pourtant là tu m'appelles. En colère contre moi d'être assis avec Mclaren. Tu n'as pas à t'inquiéter pour quelqu'un d'autre en ce moment ?" I shot back, the exchange conducted in our shared language, a battlefield of emotions.

As the argument unfolded in French, Alexandra's gaze bore into me with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine. The air grew heavier, and finally, unable to bear the scrutiny, she left the scene. The line remained silent, the only sound Charles's breathing as I muttered a curt “Bonne chance." before ending the call.

Rejoining the group, annoyance etched across my face, Lily sensed the tension in the air. She whispered something softly about race days being unpredictable, a sentiment I couldn't help but acknowledge with a reluctant nod. Kelly, shook her head and assured me that he probably only meant well, attempting to diffuse the lingering discomfort.

As we prepared to depart for our respective garages, the excitement of the impending race hung in the air. The paddock buzzed with anticipation, and I couldn't escape the irony that, in a sea of orange – I was the only one dressed in red, a silent homage to the ties I couldn't completely sever.

Taking my seat, surrounded by the enthusiastic orange-clad fans, I felt a subtle isolation in my choice of attire. The red, once a symbol of shared dreams and aspirations, now stood as a stark contrast to the vibrant sea of orange that enveloped me. It was a visual representation of the choices made and the paths diverged.

The engines roared to life, the air filled with the electrifying energy that only a Formula 1 race could evoke. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the emotional rollercoaster that awaited. In that moment, amidst the sea of orange, I couldn't help but feel like a solitary figure, navigating the twists and turns of a race not just on the track but within the intricate contours of the heart.

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In my Eras era. 💅

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Harry Styles | Thighs

[harrysrealbo]

angst to fluff like harry gets mad and yells at her and she just retreats and stays in the room and he feels bad and tries to get her back

Ok let me get a try for this bc I am bad at angst 🥀

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Here goes nothing 😚

-

It wasn’t often that Harry got angry. Truly, it was a rarity. Harry wasn’t necessarily even tempered, but he hid his anger more so in keeping to himself and letting himself cool off. He knew himself. When he got truly angry, he snapped. He yelled. And it was scary.

Y/N had never been on the receiving end of that before. She was none the wiser. Of course, she had seen him be angry a few times but it was never directed towards her. Harry was very good normally, able to keep his feelings at bay because he knew that she was particularly sensitive about him. Not that she was a baby- she wasn’t. Y/N was strong and lovely and his perfect match. She knew that when he got snarky that it wasn’t usually aimed towards her. The few times it had thought to be directed at her and she got quiet, he immediately clarified it wasn’t and tried to talk to her about it.

Some days, though, he was met with his greatest flaw. Being unable to talk about his issues, so the things pile up and up until the damn broke. Normally, no one else was around.

Y/N had been on a great mood all day. Harry was going to be home before her, they were set to order takeaway and watch a few movies. They didn’t officially live together yet, but she was buying some things for his house today. He was a bachelor, and despite his resources he didn’t know much all about interior design. Her mood had been brightened even more when she saw a cute mug at the home goods store.

It was a little dog dressed as Elvis with lyrics to Hound Dog on it. An inside joke between the flourishing couple thar she had been giddy to grab. Only $4 was a steal for something she thought he would like much better than the boring slate grey mugs his interior designer had bought. Ick.

When she saw his car when she arrived home, she was elated. Heart picking up as she grabbed the bags from the backseat, she nearly skipped inside to see her boyfriend. He’d been busy lately with work and while she definitely understood, she had been looking forward to seeing him and spending all weekend long with him.

“Babe? I’m home! I got you a surprise.” She called out once she got the door open, kicking it shut behind her. Her shoes were toed off and left in front of the shoe rack, making a mental note to go back and place them properly on it once the bags were set down.

It was quiet but she could hear him upstairs so she called thar she would be in the kitchen when he got down there. Humming happily, she went into the kitchen and set down the bags gently beginning to unwrap the new glassware she had gotten for them. It was exciting. His suggestion too, telling her that she should go out and grab things she liked better. Since it was better than her stink face at the patterned plates that always looked dirty.

She paused when she heard a thump and then a curse, a breathy huff and then stomps over to the kitchen.

“H? You okay?” She asked curiously, only to be met by the answer when she saw his face. A tiny limp in his step and a giant scowl, face red.

“Do I look okay?” He hissed. “Heard me curse, didn’t you?” His eyes cut into her, and then the counter littered with bags and the paper wrapping from the glassware. Some had fallen to the floor while she neatly placed everything out, wanting to have a display for him to see.

“I- did, yeah. I didn’t know what-“

“Fucking tell you every time to put your shoes on the rack. Tripped over them and wrecked my ankle. Cant afford that when I’m working, Y/N.” He said sternly, making her blink a few times. It wasn’t often anymore that she left them. A bad habit she had mostly fixed, it confused her to hear him bring it up when she hadn’t done it in month.

“I- I’m sorry.” She said quietly. “I was gonna go put them on the rack when I was finished unpacking this stuff, I didn’t have enough hands to-“ cut off once again, Harry let out a sarcastic laugh.

“Yeah, I can see that. Did you buy the whole store? Gave you my card to get a few glasses or something. Not redo everything.” He glared at the amount of dishes she had so carefully chosen to fit both of their personalities. “And… they don’t even match? Great. Cant serve shit on that to people when they come over. Embarrassing.”

Y/N felt her stomach drop at the insinuation that he didn’t like them. That it would be embarrassing to serve on them when he hasn’t even looked to see that they did match. The patterns and colors were cohesive- why was he acting like this? Her mind was muddled with confusion.

“I… Harry, you told me to go get new dishes so I did. I spent a while trying to choose the right colors and stuff so it would fit us… took me a long time cause I was trying to choose the perfect ones.” Her voice was wounded but Harry was so annoyed at her that it didn’t matter. His ankle throbbed after being pestered all day long, a project riding his ass, and she had left her fucking shoes down and made a mess of his kitchen.

“Obviously not long enough.” He scoffed. “And you make a mess everywhere you fucking go. Christ, did no one teach you how to pick up after yourself?” He seethed, walking over to the other side of the counter and bending to pick up the papers that fell with an aggression she hadn’t seen before. “How are we supposed to live together at some point when you can’t do simple fucking shit?” His glare and tone was the accumulation of things that had nothing to do with her- but she had no idea about that. It had come out of nowhere.

She felt sick. Embarrassed. Her stomach hurt and her throat was sore from the lump in it, hands shaking just a tiny bit but hidden by the new kitchen towels she had gotten. Harry never spoke to her like this before, and it was scary. It hurt. She was silent, hurt at the accusations, the ridicule of her ability to choose a set of glassware and his aggressive body language. That was something she really didn’t like.

“Jesus, are you just going to stand there?” He snarled. “Not even talk back to me? What is wrong with you?” The sneer on his face made her feel little. Small. Insignificant. “Cant trust you with cleaning up after yourself, choosing appropriate shit as an adult- fuck, a dog mug? You’ve got to be kidding.” His laugh was cruel as he pushed it away. Of course he hadn’t looked closely at it or he would have seen why she choose it. That in particular felt like a kick to the gut. So she remained silent as her eyes glossed over. Harry didn’t notice though.

“God, can I not trust a single fucking person?! Why is everyone in my life trying to make shit so much harder? You’re supposed to be the one who makes it easier for me!” His voice raised, anger in it actually scaring her. He got closer to her, frustrated at her lack of reply. “Can you talk? Why are you ignoring me? Seriously?” The deep voice boomed across the kitchen as he heaved, the anger building up in his system. “Look at me when I’m talking to you!”

It was in that moment that she did, he felt everything drain out of his body. Probably his blood too. She turned to him with the most gut wrenching, tear stained face. Tears he realized he had caused, and she was looking away so he wouldn’t see. His stomach grew sick and then a cold sweat broke over his body as he went silent. The air rushed from his lungs as he realized just what he was doing. Harry was always so fucking tender wirh her. So soft spoken and sweet. He never wanted her to see this side of him, never wanted her to be on that path and he had just majorly fucked that up.

“Y/N-“ the tone of his voice had dropped so low, he could barely hear it. “I-“ the sentence wasn’t finished because she turned away from him, rushing away. His body froze for a moment, unable to breathe as he watched her retreat. Going towards the stairs, he choked on his words again as his feet began to work with his mind again.

“Y/N, wait. Wait- I’m sorr-“ he was cut off by her feet carrying off harder, a faster jog and a soft click of a door upstairs. He followed quickly after her to, feeling like the blood rushed to his ears again. Taking the steps quickly despite the dull ache in his ankle, he cursed as he got to the top and heard the lock click to his guest room.

She locked him out.

“Angel…” he whispered against the door. “Please. Let me inside. Let me see you.” His voice caught as he heads the beginnings of her sob, his body shaking with need fo hold her. When Y/N cried, it was the most devastating thing. He hated it. It hurt him, and he had promised to do his best to never make her do so because of him. Now he had.

Not only that, but it truly wasn’t deserved. She hasn’t deserved all of that thrown on her. It was a mistake, one simple mistake and he had ripped her apart for it. Something thar realistically, she had remedied over the past few months. All of his anger from the past few weeks piled on to the sweet girl who had been so excited on her way inside. He ruined it. Harry was just hopeful, praying, that he hadn’t ruined them.

Dramatic, maybe, but he knew he was scary when he yelled. Y/N was sensitive for him and his opinion of her mattered greatly to her. Just as hers did for him. He aches thinking about if the roles were reversed.

“Y/N. M’so sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you, baby. I’m not angry with you. I was being unfair.” He croaked, shifting on his feet helplessly as he heard her cries. It was killing him. Yeah, he knew he deserved it, but she didn’t. “M’sorry baby. I’m sorry. Please let me come and hold you. I don’t want you to cry. I need to see you, angel.” Harry despite what anyone else may think, wasn’t above begging.

“Please go away.” She whispered through her sniffles. “I want to be alone.”

That broke his heart. She never wanted to be alone if he was around. His throat was tight, unsure of how to proceed. He wanted to bust down the door but it wasn’t fair of him to do that. He couldn’t demand her right now when he had just verbally ripped her to shreds.

“Fuck- okay. Okay, love. I’m gonna go for 10 minutes but I’m coming back then, okay? I’m sorry.”

It pained him in both heart and ankle to walk away, but he did for her own sake. He wasn’t going to continue to probe her when she needed some time alone. It wasn’t her fault that Harry was mad, nor that he was panicking now.

His pain only got worse in his chest when he went downstairs again, though. Wincing at the counter, taking a closer look and realizing that the plates and glasses all went with the color scheme she had helped him choose to paint later on. They were perfect. She spent time on them, and he had insisted he use his card and didn’t have a limit on spending. The price tag showed they were on clearance. All the money he had, and she had gotten clearance. And He had been dumb enough to subtly accuse her of using his money recklessly. The same girl who venmoed him back $7 for a coffee and cake pop. Fuck.

The worst thing, the thing that ripped his heart open was the mug he had so cruelly laughed at. Taking a closer look, he felt his own eyes gloss over in tears. It was for their joke. Their joke they always laughed about. She had found a perfectly correlated piece for them and he had made her feel childish about it, ridiculed it as if it was something dumb. Harry knew how sentimental his girl was. He knew that she must have been excited to find it.

He sniffled said he held the mug in his hands, placing it gently on the coffee maker after taking off the price sticker. It was adorable, and so fucking personal it hurt. He was a fucking idiot.

It probably hadn’t been 10 minutes but he climbed the stairs again, heart beating hard and sad in the chamber of his chest while he knocked on the door. Still, he could hear sniffles.

“Baby…” he whispered. “I’m such a fucking idiot. Please let me in. You did nothing wrong… nothing.” His words were true, though a bit shaky. “I was so mean to you, my love. So mean and you didn’t deserve a lick of it. Want to be sick that I was so mean to my sweet girl. I know you’re upset with me and I don’t deserve it… but can you let me in?”

He didn’t deserve the relief that coursed through him when she undid the lock, and that was apparent when he saw her face. The tear stains, swollen lips and eyes, runny nose. Her shaky hands she tried to hide by crossing her arms against her chest in a defensive position. A punch to his gut, his face fell further.

“Baby…” he stepped into the room after her as she backed up, looking at him warily. The man had no one else to blame but himself when his heart fell at the eyes she gave him. “Fuck. I fucked up so badly, Didnt I?” He whispered to mostly himself as he cautiously approached, giving her time to back away when she wanted to. “My sweet girl. The most perfect… can’t believe I’ve gone n’made you cry.” The hoarse words made her eyes fall from his face and tear up a bit more.

“No- no, no. Please, my love. I cant even tell you how sorry I am. You didn’t deserve any of my anger. Everything I said wasn’t even true.” He said desperately. “I went downstairs… and I saw the stuff. I was being an ass. The colors… they match the paint swatches. I saw them in your bag.” He sniffed, clenching his fists to keep from touching. “I love them. I should have never, ever thrown you using my money in your face. I love spoiling you, taking care of you. I was just…” he swallowed. “Projecting. Because I found out… y’know Hannah, the girl we were becoming friendly with in the office?” He whispered. At her little nod, he continued. “Heard her talking about how happy she was that she got into our friend group there n’how… shes going to be making a lot of money in exposure. And how she likes going out with me and the guys because I pay. Was telling her girlfriend they were going to be rich.” It was a soft spot for him. People using him. His inner circle was close knit for that reason. People who had no other motives.

“I’m sorry, Harry.” Her weak voice peeped. That should have made him feel better but it didn’t. Even when he was a dick she cared about his feelings. Right now, she shouldn’t.

“Don’t be.” He mumbled. “There’s a lot of pressure in the projects and I had 2 bad meeting… and then after the thing with Hannah, I came home and stained my shirt with ink pen. Had to throw it out. Used real milk in my coffee at the coffee house today… was feeling ill all day. It all piled up on me. But none of that, not a single one is an excuse for how I just spoke to you.” He said lowly, gently reaching a hand out to her arm. She didn’t flinch or pull away, but didn’t lean into him either.

Harry knew that what he just did wasn’t okay, nor healthy. It wasn’t something he was going to let happen again either. “I’m going to figure out something… some sort of way to fix my emotions because there’s no way I am ever letting myself speak to you like that again.” He bowed his head in shame. Out of all the people he could have taken it out on, he did it on sunshine personified.

“I’m not happy, H.” Her weak voice came out. “I won’t… I won’t let myself be with someone who does that. I know it isn’t your normal, and I trust you to fix it. But I’m just telling you. As far and as deeply and madly in love with you as I am, I know that I won’t let myself be treated like that.” Her voice was so soft, hoarse from her sobs and it made him fold. He pulled her into his chest, kissing the crown of her head firmly.

“It will not happen again. And you shouldn’t. If anyone else talked to you that way, I’d sock them in the face. I feel sick on how I just treated you. I won’t ever let anyone do it… including me. I’m…” he closed his eyes as his lips rested against her head. “M’ashamed of it. I never want to lose you. Ever. You’re the best person to come into my life and I love you so much it’s sickening.” The shaky breath into his chest as she grabbed him back and curled into his body flooded him with relief. “My love. I adore you. And I want you to be so happy with me.” He smeared kisses all over her forehead before moving down to kiss any surface. Brushing away the tear tracks in his wake with his thumbs, whispering sweet apologies.

“I love my mug. I’m so sorry I was mean. I love it so much, going to use it every day. I already set it up in our coffee bar.” He confirmed, making a bloom of discomfort wilt. He did actually like it. His tone was real, and she knew it well enough to believe it. “Let me take care of you tonight, Angel. Was so looking forward fo our weekend. We can do anything you want. Even watch those sappy romance movies. I’ll pretend I’m not crying at the end too.” Harry wasn’t perfect but he was willing to put in the work to fix the tear in their trust.

[harrysrealbo]

Selling one machester June 16th kitchen pod ee for £620

[harrysrealbo]

please can you do one with Lily Collins as face claim? ❤️

inspired by this, if you like it, don’t forget to reblog it

ask me anything | masterlist | likes and reblogs are appreciated !

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yourinstagram Back in the city 🇫🇷🥐 And ready to get on with season two !

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ynfan1 IM SO EXCITED

emilyinparis Our Emily 😍

harryfan1 gorgeous ugh

harrystyles ❤️

↳ ynfan2 we love a supportive boyfriend

jenniferaniston Cutie ! 🥰

liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 1,549 others

harryupdates Harry with a fan in Paris today !

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harryfan1 OMG HE’S IN PARIS

harryfan2 he’s there to support yn 🥺🥺

harryfan3 okay but his outfit also screams paris

harryfan4 isn’t that one of the emily in paris locations?

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ynupdates YN and Harry Styles arriving at the Emily in Paris set today !

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ynfan1 AWWW BABIES

harryfan1 supportive boyfriend !

ynfan2 remember when yn went to japan when harry was writing his album there? and now harry is in paris supporting her while she’s filming, they’re the best couple ever

harryfan2 MY FAVES ❤️

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yourinstagram Having you here with me during this moment of my career has been the best motivation i could have. I love you.

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harryfan1 STOP

jefezoff 🥺🥺

ynfan1 THIS IS ADORABLE

harrystyles I’ll always hold your hand x

↳ ynfan2 THIS IS SO PURE

↳ yourinstagram 🥺❤️

florencepugh ❤️❤️

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harrystyles Tremendously proud of you, my Emily.

Emily in Paris coming to your screens soon. x

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harryfan1 MY BABIESSS

spaceykacey ❤️❤️

ynfan1 we’re all so proud of yn

gemmastyles 💗💗💗

harryfan2 harry’s instagram used to be for his career stuff only and now he posts about how proud of his gf he is 🥺🥺

yourinstagram I love you, you sap

↳ harryfan2 AHHH THEY’RE ADORABLE

annetwist Beautiful !!

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[harrysrealbo]

Selling one Long Island section 227 ticket! Bought for $700 but I know that’s a lot so I’m willing to negotiate!! Hoping to make some of my money back and sell for 450-500 but still more than willing to listen if you have a different offer!!I can provide all proof and can ft if you want!!