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hrrysbbyhunny · 6 months
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Chocolate Hearts
CW: Smut
Word count: 4,541
Growing up in a small town was never easy. The days appeared to drag on with gloomy skies and bleak summers filling the calendar. Rain and storms consumed the days, leaving Stella feeling trapped inside her own home, binge-watching Netflix to pass the time. Despite these dreary conditions and the small town gossip that cause her to suffocate, Stella found solace in two things: reading novels at the quaint local bookstore and pursuing her passion for photography.
Behind the lens, Stella was a master. She had an eye for capturing beauty in the simplest of subjects. Her clients ranged from families to businesses, and sometimes beloved pets. While most of her projects were fairly small, she had managed to gain a decent following on social media thanks to the artistic and creative nature of her photos.
Then, through pure luck, an opportunity presented itself about an hour away - the chance to photograph Harry Styles at an arena for her portfolio. It would be a stark contrast to her usual work - the bright lights and frantic movements on stage would provide a new challenge for her skills behind the lens. When her sister's boyfriend, who worked security at the venue, offered her this rare opportunity, Stella couldn't turn it down. It was a chance to showcase her talent on a larger scale and potentially open doors for her career as a photographer.
She meticulously packed her gear, carefully selecting the best lenses and camera body for the upcoming task. Her vintage-style paperboy camera bag was neatly filled with all the necessary equipment, ensuring that she would be fully prepared for whatever lay ahead. Taking a moment to center herself, she sat down and focused on her breathing, a technique her therapist had taught her for moments when she needed to relax and gather her thoughts.
With a deep breath, she swiped the keys off of the counter and bid farewell to her cat before heading out to her car. While she wouldn't necessarily classify herself as a fan of Harry Styles, she found him charming and had enjoyed his performances in the few movies he had been in. There was something about his energy that drew her in. She couldn't deny that she had a One Direction phase in high school, so there was a small part of Stella that felt giddy at the thought of seeing him in person. She always thought her was attracitve and even had a little crush on him. 
The drive to the arena was smooth, but finding parking proved to be a nightmare. Eventually, she made it inside and checked in, grabbing her pass before being escorted to where she would be shooting. In her mind, she imagined that she would have a decent view of the stage, but when the security guard handed her off to Harry's manager who then led her down winding hallways backstage, it became clear that she would not just be photographing the show - she would have access to something much more intimate and behind-the-scenes.
The manager wheeled around to face Stella, his slicked-back hair catching the light as he spoke. "I hope you're okay with this," he said, over the hustle and bustle of the backstage preparations for Harry Styles' show. "Originally we  needed someone for the show, but our usual photographer is out sick and we need some content for Instagram."
Stella nodded, trying to suppress her nerves. She had been ecstatic when she was offered the opportunity to shoot photos of one of the worlds biggest musicians, but now that it was actually happening, she was feeling a bit overwhelmed. Her palms were getting clammy as she mentally went through her checklist, making sure she had everything ready to go.
"I'm good," she replied, flashing a quick smile at Harry's manager. "I'm all set up and ready whenever you guys are."
But what Stella wasn't prepared for was walking into Harry's dressing room and seeing him shirtless, with his stylist carefully crafting his iconic hairstyle. She couldn't help but feel a flutter in her chest as she took in his toned tattooed torso and muscular arms. This wasn't how she imagined meeting her high school celebrity crush.
Harry turned around from the chair and greeted her with a warm smile. "You must be Stella," he said as he walked towards her with open arms.
Stella couldn't believe she was actually hugging Harry Styles. She took in his scent, the strong muscles of his back pressing against her as they embraced, and she couldn't help but feel herself falling deeply in love with him. It was like a bug had bitten her and infected her with an infatuation for the charming and talented musician.
"I am," Stella finally managed to say, trying not to let on how starstruck she was. "Thank you so much for allowing me to come today. I've never really done anything like this before, it feels like such a big opportunity."
Harry chuckled and then ran a hand through his hair, causing it to fall in soft waves around his face. "No worries, love," he replied with a playful wink. "We're happy to have you here. And I was thinking we could mix things up a bit for the photoshoot. Let's do some portraits but also some candid shots of me getting ready, organizing my clothes, that sort of thing."
Stella's eyes sparkled with excitement at the idea. She couldn't believe she was going to be taking intimate behind-the-scenes shots of Harry Styles. This was definitely going to be the highlight of her photography career so far.
As Stella clicked away with her camera, capturing every moment of Harry getting ready, she couldn't help but feel a newfound sense of confidence around him. It was as if his vibrant energy was contagious and had spread throughout her body, lifting her spirits in its wake. She found herself contorting into unusual positions to get the perfect shot, lost in the thrill of documenting this experience.
"So Stella, we have a whole week off and I want to explore. I never get out to this area of the US. What's there to do around here?" Harry's deep, smooth voice sent shivers down her spine.
Stella paused for a moment, caught off guard by this unexpected conversation. "I um," she stuttered, "I actually live in a small town about an hour north of here. I'm not too familiar with the area."
Harry nodded, his curiosity piqued. "Is it cool?" he asked, his tone laced with genuine interest.
Stella shrugged, "It's alright. There are some nice bakeries and vegan restaurants. I have my studio there. It's a bit hipster but quiet and charming. Oh, and there's a really cool vinyl store. And hey, if you need a place to crash, I have a guest room." She added the last part jokingly, assuming that a famous superstar like Harry Styles would be staying in a luxurious penthouse suite.
"Let's do it," Harry declared with enthusiasm, catching Stella off guard once again.
"Really?" she gasped in disbelief.
Harry simply nodded and explained, "I've been wanting to escape to a smaller town where I can blend in and do normal things without being recognized. Sounds perfect."
Stella couldn't believe her luck as the show went on and eventually came to an end. The plan was for her to go home and wait for Harry while he finished up his final performance and got cleaned up before heading over to her place. She inwardly thanked herself for deep cleaning her house the day before, she was prepared to have everything to be perfect for Harry's stay.
"I-I didn't think you'd actually want to come," Stella admitted as they said their goodbyes.
Harry chuckled and replied, "Isn't it a bit crazy?"
And with that, their unconventional journey began.
.
Stella sat at home, anxiously awaiting Harry's arrival. She had cleaned her small apartment, lit a few candles, and put on a record to set the mood. With a quick glance at the clock, she grabbed a bottle of wine and poured herself a glass to calm her nerves.
As she took a sip, her doorbell rang, causing her cat to scurry off in alarm. Stella placed her glass down and smoothed out her outfit before opening the door. The crisp fall air rushed in, bringing with it the tantalizing scent of Harry's cologne - a masculine blend of woodsy and spicy notes that never failed to drive her wild.
"Welcome to my humble abode," she greeted him with a shrug, trying to play it cool. He hugged her tightly before setting his bag down and taking off his shoes.
"It's lovely," he remarked as he looked around her eclectic apartment filled with vintage knick-knacks and furniture straight out of the 70s. Stella blushed with pride - she may not be much of a decorator, but this was her personal style and Harry seemed to appreciate it.
"I don't think there are many places open for dinner right now, but we can order takeout if you'd like. I know it's late," Stella suggested.
"Oh, that would be great. I'm actually quite hungry," Harry admitted with a sheepish grin.
Stella returned his smile and poured him a glass of wine.
"For you," she said softly as she handed it over.
Together, they sat on her cozy couch, looking through takeout menus. Their options were limited, so they settled on a 24-hour Korean BBQ place that offered delivery services.
"You know," Stella began as they waited for their food to arrive, "I was somewhat surprised when you agreed to come over tonight. You don't even know me."
Harry simply shrugged in response.
"You seemed nice and warm. Sometimes, you have to take a chance in order to truly live," he said with a hint of wisdom in his tone. "I'm constantly surrounded by strangers in my line of work, always staying in hotels. I thought, why not spend some time with a stranger who offers a sense of home? That sounded nice right about now."
Stella placed a comforting hand on his knee and rubbed lightly with her thumb.
"Well, if I can provide that sense of home, even for  a little while, then I will." As they sat on the couch, making small talk and waiting for their food, Stella couldn't help but feel grateful for this unexpected connection she had made with Harry.
Stella and Harry’s conversation was soon interrupted by food arriving. The two sat in silence and then cleaned up in silence. The energy of the room could only be described as tired. Stella took Harry down the hall and showed him the bathroom and then took him to the room he would be staying in.
They hugged goodnight and said their goodbyes before Stella finished turning off the lights and heading to bed herself. She wondered how she would sleep. She felt guilty for  trying to fall asleep. A part of her felt like she had to stay on duty and protect the treasure that was in the room over. When in reality, if someone broke in she would be the first to go.
The next morning dawned, and as her drowsy eyes gradually cleared, Stella almost forgot that Harry was in the room next to hers. A warm, sweet scent wafted through the air, reminding her of home. Slowly, she got out of bed and walked over to her vanity, taking a moment to fix her disheveled appearance before stepping into the living room.
There stood Harry in the kitchen, his back turned to her as he focused on cooking. He must have heard her footsteps because he turned around with a smile.
"Got up early. Went on a run, found a store and decided to cook for ya," he said over his shoulder, his voice filled with warmth and affection. Stella's heart skipped a beat at the sight of him.
"Oh Harry! You could've woken me up," she exclaimed, feeling guilty for not helping him with breakfast.
But he just shook his head, his light curls bouncing slightly with the movement.
"It was nice. To  go out and not be known," he shared with her.
Stella looked at him with loving eyes, marveling at how this famous celebrity could find solace in anonymity.
"I can only imagine. I don't know how you do it all the time. No privacy. Going on a date and having the world see it even if it sucked. I can't imagine, and I’ve been on some pretty bad dates.” she confessed to Harry, unable to hide her admiration.
He laughed lightly, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
"Well. Why don't I take you out on not a bad date?" he suggested casually, but Stella's heart nearly stopped in her chest at his words. She couldn't believe it - was Harry asking her out on a date?
"If you're sure," she managed to say, trying to keep her cool.
He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close and giving her a warm hug.
"It wasn't just luck, Stella. I found your Instagram a while ago. The small town pics, the cat, the photography. I know your sister's boyfriend and I knew I had to meet you. I was practically drawn to you," he confessed, sending shivers down Stella's spine.
She couldn't believe it - this famous, talented, and incredibly attractive man had an interest in her. With a newfound sense of confidence and excitement, Stella accepted his invitation for a date, eager to see where this unexpected connection would lead them.
Despite being unfamiliar with the town, Harry managed to find a quaint restaurant and drove Stella there in his rental car. For once, he felt a sense of normalcy - the feeling of dating someone without the baggage of fame and paparazzi constantly hounding them. The drive was short, but it gave him time to take in the picturesque scenery of the small town.
As they arrived at the restaurant, Stella's face lit up with recognition. She had been here many times before, and it was clear that she loved this place. The staff greeted her by name as they walked in, and Harry couldn't help but tease her about being the "famous" one.
"It's just a small town," she laughed, "everyone knows everyone."
Over dinner, Harry couldn't shake off the feeling that he already knew Stella, or perhaps had known her in another lifetime. He found himself wanting to do simple things like eating Korean barbecue in bed or buying silly chocolate hearts from CVS - anything to make her smile.
Stella too, felt an instant connection with Harry. Just yesterday she didn't  remember his name, now she would drop everything and run away with him if he asked. She wanted him in every way possible.
Their meal ended too quickly, but the silence between them was comfortable and filled with unspoken feelings. After dinner, Harry suggested going out and doing something adventurous, but Stella simply wanted to be home - home with him and a bottle of wine. Much to his surprise, Harry was completely content with that plan.
He drove her back to her house like he had lived in that town his whole life. As they entered her place, Stella kicked off her shoes and made a beeline for the kitchen where she grabbed a bottle of wine. She poured two glasses and handed one to Harry as she fumbled with setting up the record player.
Taking a few sips of wine to calm her nerves, Stella couldn't find the right record to play and let out a frustrated sigh then finished her glass by chugging it. In that moment, Harry realized that he would do anything to make her happy, even if it meant spending the night listening to terrible music.
Stella felt him behind her as he placed a hand on the back of her shoulders. Stella felt the heat of his body, an angelic presence stirring her senses from behind. His touch was electric on the back of her shoulders, sending shivers down her spine. She turned around to face him, their faces just inches apart. The scent of his cologne filled her nostrils - masculine and intoxicating.
Wordlessly, she poured and handed him another glass of wine. Their fingers brushed against each other in the transfer, sparking a flame that coursed through their linked bodies.
"Your choice," she said with a teasing smile, gesturing to the records spread out on the table. He picked up one at random – some old jazz record she'd forgotten about. Harry placed it on the turntable and the sultry sway of a saxophone began to fill the room.
He moved closer to her then, invading her personal space as if he had every right to do so. Harrys hands found their way to her waist, pulling her flush against him. Stella gasped at the feel of his firm body pressing into hers.
“Is this okay?” he murmured into her ear. His breath tickled her skin and made her giggle.
“More than okay,” Stella replied. Her voice was husky, inviting.
His lips trailed kisses from her earlobe down towards her neck, stoking the fire that was quickly building between them. She clutched onto his hair for dear life as pleasure washed over her in waves.
As Harry's hands slipped under Stella's blouse, he gently brushed his fingertips along the small of her back before pressing softly against her bare skin. His touch was electric, sending shivers down her spine as she leaned into him, her heart pounding in anticipation. His other hand slid around to her waist before moving slowly downwards, tracing the lines of her hip and finally reaching the edge of her silk panties. Stella gasped, feeling a rush of heat spreading through her core at his touch.
"Harry," she whispered, unable to form complete thoughts as he began to explore between her legs, teasing and stroking with expert fingers. She leaned into him, letting out soft moans that were quickly drowned out by the music playing in the background. His warm breath caressed her neck, sending shivers down her spine as he nibbled lightly on the soft skin there.
In response, Stella reached up to run her fingers through his hair, loving the feel of it between her fingertips as he continued to tease her. The way he touched her was unlike anything she'd ever experienced before - it was like he knew exactly what she needed, right from the start. With each gentle caress and sigh, she felt herself growing hotter and wetter under his touch.
His fingers found their way inside and she couldn't contain a moan as he teased into places that made every nerve ending light up like fireworks going off in slow motion. He moved with an almost practiced ease that left her panting for more; it was clear that Harry knew exactly what he was doing and it felt so good -  better than anything she could have ever imagined. She couldn't help but wrap one leg around him in anticipation.
The music flowed around them, the silky jazz notes wrapping them up in a sensual embrace as Harry's fingers danced with hers, his hands exploring every curve and contour of her body.His touch was firm yet gentle, eliciting soft moans from Stella. 
As his mouth neared hers, she parted her lips, eager for his kiss. Their lips met in a tender yet passionate embrace that left them both breathless. He tasted like wine and desire, his tongue dancing with hers playfully before delving deeper into her mouth. They broke apart for air, panting heavily as Harry trailed kisses down her neck and collarbone while continuing to stroke her inner thighs.
 Stella continued to run her fingers through his hair, tangling herself up in those curls that smelled of sandalwood and sex appeal. The scent alone made her dizzy with lust; she needed more of him than just this small taste. The warmth from his body seeped into hers as they swayed together to the music—a slow song that matched their slow dance of seduction. She could feel his hardness pressing against her leg; it wasn't long before she grew wetter than ever from anticipation of what was to come next.
Harry leaned back slightly to look at Stella who looked back at him longingly. Her eyes were filled with desire, her pupils dilated from the alcohol and passion. He took a step back to remove his shirt, revealing toned abs and muscles that rippled under his tattooed skin. His hair fell onto his forehead in soft waves, framing his face as he reached for the button of his jeans. With a low growl of need, he undid the button and slid down the zipper before pushing the denim down to rest on his hips.
Stella watched hungrily as Harry stepped out of his pants and kicked them off to the side, revealing a large erection that strained against his boxers. She licked her lips involuntarily at the sight of him, feeling her own arousal growing stronger by the second.
The jazz music continued softly in the background, creating an intimate ambiance between them as they moved closer together once more. Their bodies swaying slowly as if in tune with the melody. Harry pressed himself against Stella's Core invitingly; she could feel how hard he was through their thin fabric separating them.
His tongue traced her earlobe gently before nibbling playfully at it causing shivers to run up her spine. He whispered huskily into her ear, "I want you.” His accent driving her crazy.
She moaned softly in response as he trailed kisses down her neck and collarbone, his warm breath sending shockwaves through her body. His hands roamed over her curves possessively.
"Harry," she breathed out wanting more than just teasing now; needing completion beneath this hands.
The sight of his arousal straining against his boxers made her lick her lips in anticipation. He was thick and hard, and she could see a bead of pre-cum glistening at the tip. "Oh god," Stella moaned quietly under her breath.
Harry swiftly discarded his boxers, revealing his  length fully to her gaze. Her eyes widened slightly at his size, but there was no fear in her eyes – only an eager curiosity as she reached out to touch him. Her small hand wrapped around him firmly, making him groan in pleasure.
With one swift move he pushed her onto the carpeted floor, pulled off her panties, and spread her thighs wide apart. She looked up at him from beneath heavy lashes, anticipation brewing like a storm within those sultry depths. His fingers found their way to her slick heat, nudging open sensitive folds to gain access to the secrets hidden within.
His finger dipped within the wetness, coating himself in it before retreating to rub circles around the swollen bud nestled above. A bolt of pleasure shot through Stella's body and she writhed beneath him; gasps spilling freely from her parted lips. "Fuck...Harry..."
He continued to tease gently at first, before picking up speed - each stroke sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body as he taunted that sweet spot relentlessly. His other hand kneaded and tweaked her breasts, heightening the pleasure. Stella's back arched off the floor as he brought her closer and closer to that edge.
"Harry... I..." she stammered out breathlessly. Her hands grasped at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as an orgasm ripped through her body.
Her screams of pleasure echoed in the dimly lit room as Harry continued to stroke her through her orgasm, drawing out the waves of pleasure until she was left panting and spent beneath him.
Slowly, he nudged her legs further apart with his knee before guiding his hardness to her entrance. She whimpered slightly at the feel of him pressing against her but nonetheless lifted her hips to meet him halfway.
He filled her slowly; each inch driving a gasp from both of them until he was fully embedded within her. Their bodies were connected now - not just physically, but emotionally and spiritually too. Their movements soon found a rhythm; slow and deep thrusts that had her wrapping her legs around his waist to pull him deeper.
His pace gradually increased as they both chased their release; Stella's nails leaving trails down his back as she clung onto him. It wasn't long before she felt another rise in pleasure peaking; this one even more intense than the last. "Harry...I'm going to..."
With one final deep thrust, she screamed his name as pleasure fell over her once again; Harry following suit shortly after with a groan of his own. He collapsed on top of her panting heavily; their sweaty bodies entwined in bliss.
Their shared connection was undeniable. Passionate yet tender, their lovemaking was something far beyond mere physical satisfaction. And so their story began, Harry fell in love with the small town over the week and vowed to visit in when his time was free.
-
As the week in the small town came to an end, Harry couldn't help but feel a sense of sadness. He had never expected to find such a powerful connection with someone in such an unexpected place. But as he looked at her sleeping form next to him, he knew that this was just the beginning of something special.
He gently brushed her hair out of her face and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. She stirred slightly and opened her eyes, a smile spreading across her face when she saw Harry watching her.
"Good morning," she said, her voice still heavy with sleep.
"Morning," Harry replied, unable to keep the smile off his face as he leaned in for another kiss.
They spent their last day together exploring the town, holding hands and stealing kisses whenever they could. They were both reluctant to say goodbye, but they knew it was only temporary. They had promised to stay in touch and make plans for future visits.
As they stood at the airport saying their farewells, Harry made a promise to himself – he would come back here whenever he could. This small town had captured his heart in more ways than one.
In the weeks that followed, they kept their promise and stayed connected through phone calls and messages. And when Harry's schedule allowed it, he would make the trip back to that small town, always finding new adventures and creating more memories with her by his side.
His bandmates noticed a change in him – he seemed happier, more at peace. And when they asked about it, all Harry could do was smile and tell them about this magical place that had become his sanctuary.
But as much as he loved visiting this small town and spending time with her, Harry knew that eventually their paths would diverge once again. His music career took him all over the world and she was rooted in this quaint little town. With that knowledge looming over them, they cherished every moment they had together. And in those moments, their love only grew stronger.
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hrrysbbyhunny · 8 months
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His Name is Harry
Five Years Ago
The November wind sliced through the air with a sharpness that seemed to penetrate to the core of my being. It whipped at my cheeks, stinging my skin as I made my way from the car to my place of employment, Nextgen Publicity. Nestled in the outskirts of New York City, this humble PR firm stood as a quiet oasis amidst the bustling chaos of the city. Little did I know that today, this seemingly ordinary day, would mark a turning point in my life.
As a receptionist, I had grown accustomed to the ebb and flow of mundane tasks that greeted me each day. Yet, within the monotony, I found solace in the relationships I had forged with some of our esteemed clients. From A-list celebrities to influential entrepreneurs, I relished the opportunity to rub shoulders with the rich and famous. It was an environment that allowed me to witness firsthand the glitz and glamour, while also maintaining a sense of grounded normalcy. Despite the simplicity of my role, I couldn't complain. I basked in the ease of my work, shielded from the relentless storm of celebrity scandals that often consumed the headlines.
Stepping into the reception area, I found myself flanked by a handful of other women, each absorbed in their tasks. Some wore friendly smiles, their warmth radiating through the room, while others maintained an air of guarded professionalism, their coldness serving as a constant reminder of the impersonal nature of our professional lives. Yet, even amidst the apathy that sometimes permeated the space, I managed to find a few kindred spirits, souls with whom I shared a fleeting connection. They were my allies in this sea of superficiality, offering a sense of camaraderie that made the days a little brighter.
With a firm grip, I seized the cold metal handle of the door, bracing myself for the onslaught of the wintry gust that awaited me. The wind howled and tugged at my clothes, threatening to steal away the warmth I had sought within the confines of my car. I unwound the scarf that had been draped loosely around my neck, feeling the chill of the air seep into my bones. I quickly shed my jacket, its weight no longer necessary within the heated confines of the office. With a practiced grace, I stowed them away in the drawer behind me, ensuring that they were neat and out of sight.
Taking my customary seat by the window, I surveyed the scene before me. The reception desk, adorned with its polished surface and neatly arranged supplies, stood as a fortress of organization amidst the chaos that often ensued. A sense of purpose settled upon me as I swept my hair up into a tight bun, ready to face the whirlwind of activity that awaited me. Answering calls, scheduling appointments, and managing the flow of visitors had become second nature, but today, something felt different.
I glanced over, only to meet the unwavering gaze of my manager, Callie. Her piercing eyes bore into mine, laden with unspoken words and hidden intentions. In that fleeting moment, doubt and uncertainty consumed me, as I questioned every move I had made since stepping foot into the office. What had I missed? Had I fallen short of expectations? The weight of her stare seemed to carry the weight of the world, and I braced myself for the impending revelation.
Silently, Callie traversed the room, her footsteps echoing with an air of anticipation. Each click of her heels seemed to reverberate through the space, amplifying the tension that hung in the air. With each passing second, my heart raced, a crescendo of anxiety building within me. Finally, she reached me, her hands coming to rest on the counter, her grin inscrutable.
"Ayla, how are you today?" she inquired, her voice tinged with a mischievous undertone that sent a shiver down my spine.
"I'm... I'm good, thank you, Callie," I stammered, mustering a feeble smile to match her own. But beneath the surface, a torrent of emotions threatened to engulf me. What was she about to reveal? Was it praise or reprimand? I braced myself for the impact, my mind racing through all the possible scenarios.
Callie was a complex figure, a boss who could be both exceptional and flawed. Her dynamic personality made her a force to be reckoned with, yet her Achilles' heel lay in her entanglement with employee drama, her desire to forge connections with everyone. While this camaraderie was welcomed in lighter moments, it had the potential to overshadow her managerial duties, leaving a trail of hurt feelings and unaddressed issues in its wake. As a result, navigating the intricacies of our relationship was always a delicate dance, one that required finesse and adaptability.
She giggled, her amusement filling the room, before playfully slamming her hands onto the counter, the sound reverberating through the otherwise hushed atmosphere. "So, we've managed to fill the open spot," she announced, her tone laden with excitement.
A glimmer of hope flickered within me. The vacant position at the front desk had plagued us for months, but with the busy season fast approaching, relief was in sight.
"Oh, yay! That's fantastic news. When does she start?" I inquired eagerly, my clapping hands betraying my enthusiasm.
Callie's laughter rang through the air, a delicate melody that masked a hidden truth.
"She? Ayla, not all receptionists are girls," she teased, her eyes sparkling mischievously.
I froze, my mouth suddenly parched. It wasn't that I held any bias against men; on the contrary, I appreciated a handsome face as much as the next person. But the prospect of a man joining our predominantly female front desk team ignited an inferno of curiosity within me. How would the delicate balance of our camaraderie be affected? We had never encountered such a scenario before, especially not with the presence of an attractive man.
Suppressing my unease, I managed a nervous chuckle, attempting to mask the whirlwind of emotions swirling within me. "So... We've hired a boy?"
Callie nodded briskly, her eyes betraying a hint of exasperation. "Yes, and from what I've heard, he's quite easy on the eyes."
A lump formed in my throat, choking back a tide of questions. What was his name? Or was his appeal the only information we possessed? Callie sighed softly, her voice laced with resignation.
"His name... his name is Harry," she revealed, her words hanging in the air, heavy with unspoken possibilities.
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hrrysbbyhunny · 8 months
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You nervously tapped your fingers on the edge of your camera lens. As a budding photographer, you dreamt of capturing something extraordinary - something that would leave a lasting mark on the hearts of people. Little did you know that your life was about to undergo a beautiful transformation.
One sunny afternoon, while battling with self-doubt, you received an unexpected email. As you read through it, your heart skipped a beat. It was an invitation from none other than Harry Styles himself. He had stumbled upon your photography portfolio on social media and was captivated by your talent. He wanted you to join him on his upcoming tour as his personal photographer.
Overwhelmed with excitement and disbelief, you couldn't help but scream in glee. Your dream had become a reality. You immediately replied, accepting his offer, and began packing your bags. You were about to embark on an incredible journey, capturing the essence of Harry Styles through your lens.
The first day of the tour arrived, and you found yourself standing backstage at a vibrant concert venue. Desperate to make a good impression, you adjusted your camera strap and took a deep breath. As Harry's voice soared through the stadium, you captured his infectious smile, the flickering lights, and the sea of fans losing themselves in the music.
The next few days were a blur as you accompanied Harry on stage during soundchecks, capturing candid moments that showcased his genuine passion for his craft. Whether it was his mischievous smirk during rehearsals or his soothing voice singing his heart out, your camera never missed a beat.
As the tour progressed, Harry began to take notice of your work. In between shows, he would sit down with you and examine every picture you had taken. His genuine interest and encouraging words left you feeling inspired and validated. Together, you reveled in the beauty of capturing emotions and creating memories.
During quieter moments of the tour, when the world slowed down, you had the chance to see the real Harry - the one behind the captivating performer. You quickly discovered that the artist on stage was just as magical offstage.
Late one evening, after a particularly delightful photo shoot that showcased Harry's vulnerable side, the two of you sat on the tour bus, sharing stories and laughter. It was in these stolen moments that your connection with him deepened. His down-to-earth personality and heartfelt insights made you crave to know him even more.
The tour came to a bittersweet end, leaving you with a heart full of memories and a collection of photographs that encapsulated the journey you had shared with Harry. As you prepared to bid him farewell, Harry pulled you aside, a playful glimmer in his eyes.
"I've decided to host an exhibition to showcase your talent," he said, his voice brimming with excitement. "Capturing the essence of our time on tour and showcasing it to the world. It's time for everyone else to see what I saw."
Tears of gratitude filled your eyes as you realized the impact this opportunity would have on your career. With Harry's support, you organized a stunning exhibition that celebrated not only his artistry but also your talent behind the lens.
In the months that followed, your photography career skyrocketed, with invitations pouring in from all corners of the world. You continued to document the lives of musicians and artists, capturing their raw emotions and their most vulnerable moments.
But no matter how far you traveled or how many renowned musicians you photographed, a piece of your heart remained forever bound to the time you spent with Harry Styles. His infectious energy, his authenticity, and his unwavering support had forever changed your life and your art.
And perhaps, as time went on, new chapters would unfold, capturing even more beautiful memories between you and Harry - a bond that started with a camera lens and evolved into something far beyond the reach of fame.
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