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rebelscums · 2 months

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Ardent (Qimir x Ex Jedi reader)

The beginning Part One of Ardent

Summary: You have been by his side since the beginning… This is your story.

The best down on your form in the training arena located outside. Hundreds of flowers decorated around the outside arena making it serene despite the structure and rigorous exercises you had to go through, but you believed that each test made you stronger and you would become a noble Jedi like your master.

“Fix your form padawan.” Your master pointed at the wrong position of your right foot.

“Apologies master.” You swiftly fixed your form hoping that you appeased her.

It seemed to work as Master Elysande gave you an appreciative nod, “Well done. Now I want you to concentrate on the way the branch moves on the tree in front of you. Mimic this movement until your energy matches…”

You listened intently to your master, her black hair braided to fall behind her pointed ears. As you nodded your head you caught movement toward the right of your vision and it was at that moment Qimir walked by, following ardently behind his master, Master Balaam.

His hair fell delicately around his face despite the other padawan’s cutting theirs short to make it easier for training. His padawan braid reach just past his shoulder however, his beads reminding you of the ocean. He kept his gaze on the dark grey robe his master wore, walking swiftly behind him. The small action allowed you to admire him silently from afar. To say that you had a small crush on the boy was an understatement, but you did notice one important detail about him.

Qimir was always… Quiet.

You noticed that he tended to keep to himself. He never made a face or spoke against his master. You however were quiet the opposite. You were loud and spirited. You had a million questions, ones that only a few that your master would indulge in. Master Elysande choose you because of your active imagination and bright look about the galaxy. She would say it gave you a footing over the other padawan’s when it came to the force because of how strong your connection was to life around you.

You were quite friendly, but when it came to Qimir… Well you felt as if your words were stuck in your throat and you couldn’t push yourself to speak. He didn’t speak to you either and it would always end with you watching him wordlessly.

Other padawan’s such as your friend Gerel speculated that he was mute. You didn’t think she could possibly be right. Ifa just thought that Qimir was strange agreeing with the others. You however were curious about the tall silent boy. You wanted to learn more about him, speak with him and perhaps be friends. You thought that you both would make the perfect pair however, with your daydream you didn’t expect his eyes to lock onto yours. Suddenly your cheeks began to burn and you knew it wasn’t just from the heat.

“Padawan.” Master Elysande called out to you again for the third time, “Focus.”

You cleared your throat hoping that your cheeks would cool down as you turned your attention back to your master.

“Sorry master.” You muttered quickly though secretly you were counting down the minutes until you saw him again.

It seemed that the force was on your side

“We will begin this new year with something that is a little different from our traditional training. Each of you will be partnering up with one another to improve your connection to the force as well as your combat skills. This partnership will carry on as you become Jedi’s.” Master Aarati explained, “It is up to you to choose your partner wisely so that you may become knowledgeable in the force.”

You were excited for the revelation as you twiddled your fingers under your robes. This was the perfect moment to talk to Qimir without being too pushy. You thought as you looked around.

“Do you want to—“ Ifa began, but you couldn’t let Ifa finish what they were going to say.

“I’m really sorry but I already have a partner in mind.” You spoke quickly, “Maybe next time!” You called back to your friend as you dove into the crowd. You had a mission and you had your nerves at least for now.

You couldn’t mess this up. You wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you did.

Your master also thought you were a bit dramatic in your training as well.

You weaved around padawan’s trying to pick their own partners as you spotted a mop of dark raven hair. Please don’t have a partner… Please don’t have a partner… You thought as you finally broke past the hive of padawan’s.

There he stood, looking a bit out of place beside his master. He had his hands clasped behind his back and his gaze looked indifferent as you approached him.

“Master Balaam.” You greeted his master first with a bow before turning your attention to Qimir, “Qimir…” You took a breath, “Would you like to be my partner for this trial?”

You waited with a bated breath as his eyes roamed your figure. You knew you didn’t have anything special or unique about you like some of the other padawan’s, but you were content in being normal. He however… Was not.

“No.”

That was the first word he ever said to you… No.

The rejection made you feel embarrassed and singled out as you stood there awkwardly.

“No?” You wanted to be sure, “Are you sure you don’t—“

“I am always certain in what I say.” He replied.

“Oh…” Your voice trailed off.

His master didn’t seem to make the situation any lighter as he stared silently through your soul. Your master however could sense the growing unease inside of you and gracefully took her place by your side once more.

��Is there a problem?” She directed her question to Master Balaam.

“She is too frail to train with my padawan. Qimir needs someone who can match his strength with the force.” Master Balaam answered indifferently as if this conversation was wasting his time.

“I see.” Elysande nodded and you had to refrain from laughing at the way she was trying intently not to roll her eyes, “But before you judge the strength of my padawan by her looks alone. How about we allow our padawan’s to duel. A test of sorts should do the trick in proving you wrong.”

At that you couldn’t help but snort. The reaction received a gentle nudge from your master to quiet you down.

“She won’t last.” Master Balaam said.

“We’ll see about that.” Your master motioned for you to follow her, “Follow us.” She spoke and you were quick to grace her side.

“That is the boy you were distracted by is it not?” Elysande asked softly. She held no disgust or disappointment in her tone, only a light curiosity that allowed you to open up to her more freely.

You nodded speaking quietly, “He is… Different from the others.”

“Different is not always a good thing. Difference can lead you astray from the path.” Your master passed on wisdom.

“I understand master.” You nodded your head.

You found yourself underneath the only plum tree in your temple. You were facing against Qimir who seemed tense under the watchful gaze of his master.

“This should be quick.” Master Balaam commented and crossed his arms.

Those sharp words had you grinding your teeth as a determined expression took over your usual soft features. You would not be bested by those who think less of you. You readied yourself, holding your lightsaber in first position.

Qimir ignited his lightsaber, holding it in a familiar stance. He didn’t seem tense anymore as if he was in his element. You could see that he liked the feel of power from the way his fingers opened and closed around his blue lightsaber.

Your green one flickered against your eyes and you counted down silently at the same time as your master.

“Begin.” Master Elysande said.

You charged Qimir with speed, ready to take him down with the new move you learned, but he sensed your plan and diverted it with a single step. You stumbled towards the tree and you would have face planted against it too if it weren’t for Qimir pulling you back by your right arm.

“Account for your opponents steps. Focus on their movements and not just your own.” He said softly.

You looked up at him before nodded your head and taking a step back, “Okay.”

You returned to your starting spot with a new frame of mind. It was something your master picked up immediately as she watched you take your time to attack Qimir instead of just rushing in.

“They complement one another.” Master Elysande commented as you told Qimir to be more aggressive when using the force, “This new training technique may be affective for the future of Jedi.”

“I don’t think it is a good thing.” Said Master Balaam motioned to you and Qimir with his head, “This trial for a new training technique could form attachments amongst the padawan.”

Master Elysande remained quiet in thought wondering if what Master Balaam was explaining could come true.

You continued to spar alongside Qimir. However, you were no match for his quick and precise movements. It was clear that he was being trained relentlessly by his master to become the perfect Jedi. In the end as he pinned you to the ground. Qimir stood over you with his lightsaber pointed at your neck.

“Well done.” Your master nodded her head in approval and you smiled despite losing.

Master Balaam however said nothing as Qimir looked at him. You could see the way his shoulders slumped only slightly and you could only imagine how dejected he must feel. That is why you brought his attention back to you and tried to cheer him up.

“Good fight.” You took a deep breath. It was quite a work out and exhaustion overtook you.

He turned off his lightsaber and clipped it back onto his belt, “It was.” He said as he stuck his hand out towards you.

You took it gratefully and allowed him to pull you up, “So does this mean that you will have me as your partner?”

“Y—” Qimir didn’t get a chance to give his answer before Master Balaam tugged him back by his robe.

“No.” Master Balaam stated as he stepped in front of him, “You’ve only proven to me how reckless you are young padawan.”

“She has only proven to be a good match for Qimir.” Master Elysande intervened, “They can hone their skills by working together.” She clasped her hands over her stomach, “I believe that their differences can bring the best out of each other.”

“Or the worst.” Master Balaam waved his hand dismissively, “Come padawan. Let us go.”

Qimir glanced at you with a sad look in his eyes before following his master’s order. You looked to your master with wide and expressive eyes that showed how upset you were at not being paired with Qimir.

“Wait.” Master Elysande called out to Balaam, “Let’s us see what the council thinks.”

You never knew how much you appreciated your master until that very moment.

You stood behind your master as she explained to the council the benefits of pairing both you and Qimir together.

“We decided on this trial for a reason. I believe these two will be a successful case by the time they become Jedi knights.” Master Elysande explained.

“It is a foolish dream driven by a desire to put your padawan ahead. She is not as skilled as Qimir and never will be. I do not see any reason why they should continue to train together.” Master Balaam countered.

You peaked over at Qimir as the council murmured about what they should do about this predicament. Qimir didn’t show any emotion on his face. He looked calm as his hands were clasped behind his back. He didn’t show the childlike personality that the two of you should have at your age.

He won’t look over at me either. He must know that I am staring at him. You thought, a small disappointed frown on your face as you focused your attention back on your master. You wanted to joke with him, perhaps make him laugh at the audacity that his master had.

“We incline to agree with Master Elysande.” Master Charvik finally announced.

Master Faheem whose eyes shine of the brightest ocean and skin the color of turquoise to accent her gills also chimed in, “I have had a vision through the force as well. I believe that the force has called the two together for a reason… One I do not understand, but a reason that will create a strong bond within the force.”

“I agree with your wisdom Master Faheem.” Master Charvin said, the cloth wrapped around his hands slightly unraveled as he motioned for the meeting to come to an end.

Relief filled your lungs as you breathed out. You were nervous about what Master Faheem saw in her vision, but excited to continue your training with Qimir. You only hoped that he felt the same way… You just wanted to become as strong as he was. To understand his way of the force.

“Then it is settled.” Master Balaam’s jaw was clenched, but he didn’t show any other signs of anger, “Qimir will continue his training alongside Master Elysande’s padawan. Let us hope that your vision is not wrong Master Faheem.” A thin frown graced his lips as a sour tone overtook his tone.

The council paid no mind to Master Balaam’s dismay over the matter and did what they did best, hide their feelings.

“Thank you for your thoughts and decision on this subject.” Master Elysande nodded her head towards the Jedi council before turning to leave the room. You fell into step with her as the two of you left, you with a pep in your step as you walked.

As you and your master internally commended your victory, you made a silent vow to bake master Elysande the best batch of muffins she had ever tasted in thanks to her. In your promise you turned your head to find Master Balaam and Qimir walk past the both of you.

You didn’t expect anything from them so it came as a surprise when you felt a tiny scroll of paper being slipped into your small hand. Qimir didn’t speak of it as he continued to follow his master who was swiftly trying to get past you.

Your heart raced as you waited until you were in the safety of your room to unroll the piece of paper. It was then that you knew even as young as you were that he was going to be apart of your life forever. Your very first crush created just from a few words scrawled on a piece of paper.

Meet me by the plum tree tonight. I really

Thank you. — Q

#star wars #star wars imagine #starwars #star wars x reader #qimir the acolyte #acolyte #the acolyte #qimir angst #qimir fluff #qimir fic #qimir x you #star wars qimir #qimir x reader #qimir imagine #qimir

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4theitgirls · 1 year

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wonyoungism: a guide

wonyoungism is inspired by jang wonyoung and mixes a coquette, cute, pink pilates princess style with self improvement to help us become the best and healthiest versions of ourselves!

ways to express wonyoungism

have a morning routine

a morning routine helps set the tone for the rest of your day. while you can include whatever you want, typical wonyoungism morning routines include waking up early, stretching, skincare, drinking tea or lemon water, and doing your makeup and hair. do what works for you and makes you feel the best!

take care of your skin

research your skin type and find what products and routines will work best for you. no need for fancy or expensive products! in my experience, minimalism works best for my skin. a good cleanser and moisturizer are key, but you can also include things like toner, exfoliating scrubs, night cream, eye cream, and serums if you need or want them. wonyoung is an ambassador for innisfree skincare products, like these:

have a nutritious, balanced diet

having a nutritious diet keeps you healthy and energized, helps your skin and hair, makes you feel good, and has so many other benefits! focus on getting your daily servings of fruit and veggies and getting your protein and other nutrients and vitamins in, but don’t restrict yourself to the point of bad mental health. here’s a good chart to start with!

find a daily exercise regimen

most workouts you’ll find with wonyoungism are pilates, walking, and yoga (which i highly recommend!) but find a workout plan that YOU like! there are so many different types of workouts out there, and you shouldn’t force yourself to do something you hate. try out different things and figure out what works best for you. if you do want to practice pilates and yoga, here are some good channels on youtube:

move with nicole

dansique fitness

yoga with kassandra

eleni fit

sanne vloet

bailey brown

implement productive habits into your day

instead of mindlessly scrolling in your free time, try to implement productive and healthy activities. these things can include:

working out or stretching

drawing or painting

researching something that interests you

learn a new skill or a new language

read

write short stories

make a new playlist

go outside/go for a walk/spend time in nature

journal

make a vision board

be kind to yourself

sounds self explanatory, but it can be so much harder than it sounds for some of us. it may take some time, but realize that you are only human and you are doing the best you can. it’s okay to not feel as healthy or happy as you think you should, but you are absolutely valid and it is okay to be gentle with yourself. you are the only you there will ever be, embrace being you!

have an evening routine

evening/night routines are important because it closes out your day and gets you ready for a good nights sleep. it’s so helpful to have an evening routine that helps you wind down and get relaxed mentally and physically. this can include whatever makes you feel calm and happy, but it can also include things like stretching, lighting a candle, skincare, reading, meditation, and drinking a warm drink like tea!

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cecilyv · 8 days

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Graffiti on my body

(buck/tommy, 9-1-1, mini-fic)

Sometimes being multiple time zones away from @liminalmemories21 sucks, and sometimes you have a vision, you write up the basics, and you wake up to a moment of joy. Today we both got to say, "Good morning to me; and yes, exactly."

Tommy’s body has always been utilitarian; built and nourished for what could it do, how far it could be pushed. As much as he thought about it at all, he vaguely considered what it needed — food, water, exercise. Mostly it was a nuisance that never did enough, never as much as he wanted, as his superiors wanted — so he focused on how he could build it to hold more, help more, save more.

But now, wrapped in Evan’s sheets, bolstered by Evan’s body, he wonders, maybe for the first time, what his body wants, what his body can accept, what his body can give. Evan’s hands make him question what he’s been missing, what he could have been wanting, asking for. He wants to see what Evan sees; he wants to look down and see more than a job, a soldier, a firefighter.

Evan touches him like nobody else ever has — there's desire and hunger, and those he's used to. He’s seen them before; maybe not to this degree, and that’s a trip all of its own. But Evan touches him with wonder, too — like he's precious, like he could be hurt and Evan wants to keep him safe. Nobody's ever touched him like that.

Evan lays with his head on Tommy’s chest, drawing on his skin with his finger, intricate swirls and whorls, tracing a pattern that Tommy can't see, but Evan clearly can because it's the same each time — wants to ask what it is, but also doesn't, just feels it, lets it sink in until he can almost trace it himself. He lies there and takes it, skin still sensitive, flushed and slightly sweaty and, over time, he realizes he needs it, he wants it — Evan marking his place, claiming what’s his.

When he looks down at his skin later, he can almost see the love that Evan has inscribed into his skin.

And one day, when Evan’s on a 48 and Tommy’s just lying in bed, he traces one of Evan’s favorite spots, the one he always goes back to — and he wouldn’t say he’s impulsive; he’d argue that he has good instincts— he pulls on his clothes and goes to the local tattoo parlor. He stands in parade rest, staring at the art on the wall, abstract colors and details and designs that he doesn’t understand but knows are beautiful. When she asks if she can help, he tries to explain what he wants but he can’t get it quite right. She looks at him with exasperation, with pity, and tells him to come back when he’s sure about what he wants; she doesn’t want him to regret his decisions.

He leaves, buys a pen and when Evan gets home, when they’re lying in bed again and Evan starts absentmindedly tracing the pattern on his skin, he reaches into a drawer and pulls out the pen and hands it to Evan, and tells him, he wants to see what Evan sees, he wants to wear his mark, he wants to be covered in Evan.

And he goes back to the artist the next day, with Evan sketched on his skin and she examines Tommy in a new way, like he’s a work of art, like he’s changed, improved, special. She sees what Evan sees.

And Tommy points at the design on his hip, just below his scar, and the woman tilts her head, consideringly, just breathes, “Yes.”

And he lies there and lets her permanently etch Evan onto his skin.

Evan’s eyes go wide when he sees it. “You,” he swallows, voice hoarse, “…show me. “

He knows it was actually pretty impulsive, that they haven’t really been dating long enough for tattoos. But he also knows he won’t regret it if they break up. It’ll break his heart — in so fast he can’t feel the bottom anymore — but he won’t regret it.

“I like the way you see me,” he says simply.

#buck/tommy #911 fic #mini fic #tattoos

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thisgirlnamedblusy · 2 months

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Hi I was wondering if I could request ✨ where Donna and reader already have a child that’s already maybe 5 or more? and they keep bringing up and begging about having a sibling so one night Donna takes matter into her own hand a.k.a smut…

g!p Donna please? 🙏

hopefully this didn’t make you uncomfortable 😭 and I hope you have a wonderful day 💕☀️

Yessss!!!!! Thank you for your request!!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :)))))

Wishes

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI, fluff…

Word count: 6,071

Summary: Your daughter wants someone to play with...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I love you all!!! :))

“Let's see... What is two plus two?” you asked, sitting on the wooden floor, with your daughter's innocent smile adorning that boring winter afternoon.

“Quattro!” the girl squealed, happy to know the answer. You frowned but sighed contentedly, nodding.

“Yes, okay, very good, Valentina,” you said in a soft voice, making the girl jump for joy. “Four…”

“And three plus three is six,” she added, doing the math with her fingers, causing you to look surprised.

“Whoa, whoa, someone's been doing homework...” you joked.

“Yes, because I want more sweets,” your daughter said, revealing the true intentions of that extra effort.

“Well, I think you've earned them today, darling,” you said, closing the small exercise book when the front door sounded. “Who is it, Valentina?”

“Mamma!” Valentina squealed, excited to hear her mother entering the house.

If someone told you five years ago that you, a villager by birth, who spent without pain or glory in that sinister place, had managed to be happy, to form a family with one of the fearsome shadows that dominated the village, you would surely want to know what prohibited substance had ingested.

But as if fate had wanted to have fun at your expense, it made you work as a gardener, but not just any gardener, a gardener for the most shadowy and mysterious Lord, Donna Beneviento.

Love, just as you believed, was possible even in the darkest places. Well, saying that in a place like this was not very specific but, as time went by, with the continuous vision of that mourning figure near you, you understood that the darkness was just an illusion.

Sick, self-conscious, closed in on herself, Donna didn't seem to want any kind of contact with you, or that was what her few words, her slow walk, the looks you were unable to see through that black veil, implied.

Little by little, like the sun that rises at dawn, that timid closeness became a journey of discovery, of understanding, of unbearable attraction towards the lady in black, towards her voice, towards her gestures...

At first you may have believed that if she had feelings for you, she could also have feelings for anyone who had gotten close enough. Your own insecurities disappeared the moment you saw her face. A beautiful face, damaged but beautiful, a bright, dazzling eye, soft features of a lonely woman, a woman who needed love.

The kisses didn't take long to arrive, but the love had been there for a long time. Everything was new for her, and for you. Together, you discovered everything that to love someone meant. Sorrows, joys, tears, smiles, it was an eventful trip, but one that you would repeat without thinking about it. Not even the vague excuse of a change in her body when Mother Miranda made her be a Lord was enough to make you want to walk away, quite the opposite.

Months, years passed, and nothing could improve, nothing, until after a while feeling sick, you discovered you were pregnant. Maybe hasty news, you thought you were too young, that you wouldn't be able to face something like that. As if the world had turned upside down, it was Donna who helped you realize that there was no happier news for her. You would be a family, a real one, what both you and she longed for in the bottom of your hearts.

Valentina Beneviento, now five and a half years old, was the only light missing in your life, an insurance that reminded you the darkness would never return.

“Mommy, mommy!” the girl said excitedly, running towards the mourning figure that appeared through the door. You got up from the floor, ready to die of tenderness.

“My love...” the lady sighed through that horrible black veil, one that she continued to use for those terrible meetings that could not be avoided, the only thing it reminded you of where you were, who you were with.

“Knock, knock,” the girl said, already in her mother's arms, gently hitting her covered head. “Is mommy there?”

“Why don't you check it, tesoro?” Donna said, amused, making the girl discover her face, showing an affectionate smile, the beauty that you never were tired of admiring.

“Mommy!” the girl squealed, effusively hugging the lady in black, who laughed shyly, surely grateful that her way home was no longer a somber walk, but one in which she wanted to return to be with her family, your family.

“Valentina,” she responded, kissing her on the cheek and lowering her to the floor. “Have you had fun with mom?”

“Yes, we've been doing math... And I've won three sweets,” your daughter explained, when you leaned against the door frame, not wanting to interrupt yet.

“Three? You really made the effort...” Donna said, caressing her daughter's head, the black hair unmistakably hers.

“Your daughter is very smart,” you finally said, in a tender whisper, drawing her attention, making her gaze lock onto yours with a sigh and one of those wonderful smiles. You walked slowly, taking the black fabric from Donna's hands and leaning in to kiss her slowly.

“Do you see that, Valentina? That's good for our plan,” a squeaky voice that appeared by surprise murmured, Donna's living doll, Angie, an indispensable member of that curious family.

“You think so? They do it a lot,” the girl commented, approaching the puppet. You and Donna looked at each other and frowned.

“What are you two up to?” you asked with an inquisitive, but soft tone.

“Nothing,” they responded in unison, making you look at each other again, shrugging your shoulders.

“That sounds like a lie to me... What do you think, Donna?” you said again, leaning on her shoulder and looking at the girl and the doll, who walked away among evil laughs.

“Don't stick your nose into our affairs, you dirty commoner,” the doll snapped at you, as shameless as always. You shook your head and rolled your eyes, watching how the puppet dragged Valentina towards the living room, probably to continue with that strange plan.

“Angie...” Donna sighed, tired of the attitude that the puppet had with you. You never gave it importance. You knew that, deep down, you got along well.

“Come on, Valentina, let's leave them alone...” Angie said, ignoring the warning from her owner.

“These two...” you murmured, sighing, leaning a little more on the lady in black, who maintained that smile while she shook her head. “Well, how was the meeting?”

You separated slowly, but not before kissing her again. Since you gave her the first one, you couldn't go a day without those sweet, improvised kisses, full of affection that sometimes you couldn't express in words.

“As usual,” she said, dryly, walking with you towards the living room, plopping down on a sofa, visibly exhausted. “They have asked me about you again.”

“Oh, really?” you said with disinterest, sitting next to her and looking askance at the two small figures who could no longer hide some kind of conspiracy.

“Yes, you know they appreciate you,” the lady in black answered, with a soft, relaxed voice, folding the black cloth that you still had in your hands and leaving it carefully on a small table. That's where it needed to be, and not in her face.

“I find it hard to believe,” you replied, leaning back on the couch and resting your head on your hand, staring at her, blinking mockingly.

“Miranda asked about the girl,” she commented, with a slightly lower voice. Donna certainly knew the non-existent appreciation you had for the priestess. “I told her she is fine.”

“Okay…” you drawled, with a look of suspicion. “Donna, is everything okay?”

“Yes, yes, it's just that...” she responded, perhaps too abruptly, thus evidencing her concern.

“Just that...” you repeated, getting a little closer. She looked at you, sighing and shaking her head.

“You should come someday,” she said in a whisper, moving away from your accusing gaze. You rolled your eyes again. It was not the first time that this topic came to light.

“We've already talked about this, honey. I don't like the idea of the girl spending time with... Them...” you said seriously, changing your relaxed posture into a tense one. Donna glanced at you, but she didn't seem like she wanted to drop the topic.

“They're her family, (Y/N), I don't see anything wrong,” Donna said, nervous, playing with the black fabric of her dress and avoiding your gaze. You raised your eyebrows and huffed.

“Of course not, a giant woman, a Loch Ness monster and a magnetic sociopath. A very favorable environment for Valentina,” you said ironically, bringing out the monstrosities of the Lords.

“A crazy psychopath who controls living dolls,” Donna responded, with a strange hatred in her eye. Sometimes you forgot how sensitive she could be, that you had to be especially careful with your words.

“Donna... Not again..." you said, trying to divert her complexes from her mind, grabbing one of her trembling hands. “You know perfectly well that I don't think that way.”

“I'm sorry,” the lady said briefly, squeezing your hand tightly. “I didn't mean to talk to you that way.”

“It's okay, it's okay, Donna, besides, maybe you're right,” you said, feeling guilty for your attitude.

Let's see, it was true that dark and sinister environment was the only thing you wanted to avoid to Valentina, but Donna was also part of that disturbing squad of monstrosities. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea for the girl to get to know her family, no matter how horrible it was.

“Hey, my darling...” you sighed, approaching the lady in black, who had a sad, melancholic face. Your hand rested on her chin, moving her head so she made eye contact with you. It was amazing how, with just one touch, Donna seemed to calm down. “Look at me, Donna.”

“(Y/N)...” she sighed, grabbing the hand that was tenderly caressing her cheek, holding it against her skin, not wanting that contact to disappear.

“You know I love you very much, right?” you whispered, slowly approaching her lips, enjoying that lavender perfume, her agitated breathing from having you so close to her.

“I think not as much as I do, tesoro,” she murmured, giving in to her impulses and kissing you slowly, apologizing.

It was a slightly different kiss, but equally wonderful, a type of kiss that always made you miss the rhythm, smile against her skin, make funny sounds while your lips devoured hers in a passionate, but calm way. But soon you began to feel somewhat uncomfortable in that situation.

Your intuition didn’t fail and as you slowly separated yourself from the addictive kisses of the lady in black and you opened your eyes to check the reason for your discomfort.

Angie and Valentina were in front of you, observing you in silence.

You cleared your throat, moving further away from Donna, and she did the same, looking away and playing with her dress, possibly embarrassed.

“Hey, what are you two doing?” you asked, crossing your arms. Both girl and doll bowed their heads, but said nothing.

“The question is...” Angie murmured, jumping onto your lap and putting her wooden finger on your nose. “What were you two doing?”

“It's none of your business,” you growled quietly, watching Valentina, who also climbed onto Donna's lap, looking at her curiously.

“Mamma, what were you doing?” she asked in an innocent voice, getting comfortable on her lap and holding her arms like when she was younger.

“Nothing, honey, we were just...” Donna explained, her voice breaking from nervousness, from her daughter's uncomfortable questions.

“Giving each other some love, Valentina,” you finished, making the girl nod slowly, looking at the puppet, which was moving on top of you in the most annoying way possible.

“Angie, do you think that was enough?” the little girl asked, causing another shared and intriguing look.

“No, no, not at all, but it was going well,” the puppet explained, crawling towards the girl, as if she wanted to whisper in her ear. “We have to make those moments last longer,” she whispered confidently.

“Hey, I'm listening to you, what are you up to?” you asked, picking up the doll, which kicked childishly, protesting your grip. “Ah! Damn...” you screamed when the puppet got rid of you as she knew best, biting you.

“Angie!” Donna scolded her, standing up with her daughter in her arms, looking at the situation curiously.

“Don’t, worry,” you hissed, bringing the wound to your mouth. The lady in black crouched down to look at it. “Tell me you have the rabies vaccine…”

“It's nothing serious, tesoro,” Donna murmured, moving the girl to a more comfortable position.

“Mamma...” the girl said, tugging at her black dress in a comical way, with an innocent look. “Ho fame…”

“Are you hungry, my love?” the lady asked, completely forgetting about your injury. Deep down you didn't mind at all, in fact, you loved seeing how sweet Donna was with the little girl. To her there was nothing more important than you, not even that horrible bird woman.

Valentina nodded slowly and Donna smiled tenderly.

“Okay, what do you want for dinner? Mom told me you have behaved very well today, so you can choose,” she said to the girl, under your attentive gaze, one that from time to time strayed to the doll, cowardly hidden.

“Mmm, I don't know...” Valentina murmured, looking at the ceiling, thinking about the answer.

“You don't know,” the lady in black repeated, putting a finger on her nose, making her laugh in that adorable way. “What do you think if we go down and see what I can make for you?”

“Can I help you?” the girl asked. Of course she was Donna's daughter. She always got very excited when Donna took to the kitchen.

“Of course, tesoro, as long as mom gives you permission,” Donna said, looking at you with a pleading look, a look that the girl imitated.

“Mom... Can I...?”

“Of course, come, leave me alone again,” you said, feigning damage to the middle of your chest, knowing that the girl would laugh accordingly.

“Dinner will be ready soon, amore mio,” Donna said, going down so she could give you a quick kiss, disappearing with the girl moments later. You could hear that melody that she was singing, that melody that Valentina liked so much. Donna was definitely a different person.

You were enthralled for a second, listening to the sweet singing of the woman you loved, until it was just a light breeze of air as they descended the elevator. The cowardly doll's subtle movements brought you back to reality, squinting at the puppet.

“Hey! Come here, you kind of piece of wood with a piranha kink!” you shouted, forgetting about the sweetness and chasing Angie around the living room.

It didn't take you long to catch her, even though she really looked like a person, she was still a doll, a devilish one.

“Talk, you porcelain sack, I know you're up to something,” you said, shaking the puppet in your arms, making Angie complain comically.

“My mouth is sealed, commoner,” the doll said when you left her on the floor, crossing her arms in a childish manner.

“Oh, so you're up to something... Great, spill the beans, now,” you said satisfied with a superb posture and tone.

“I'm not up to anything, stupid, it's Valentina,” Angie protested, looking away from you. You frowned, scratching the back of your neck and relaxing your attitude, looking out of the corner of your eye at the wound on your finger.

“Valentina? Come on, Angie, cut the crap,” you mumbled a bit confused.

Angie may not have been the best of influences on the girl, but she had always taken care of her in her own way and, despite the doll's cheeky and irreverent attitude, the girl's evilness was non-existent.

“You cut the crap, who do you think you are to question me?” the doll complained, with that squeaky voice that didn't do anything good for your head.

“The mother of the girl you are corrupting for your evil plans,” you hissed through your teeth, getting a little closer to the puppet, which backed away, but without showing any fear, of course.

“Stupid, you don't know anything,” Angie rebuked you, walking away from your furious gaze.

“Look, that's precisely what worries me. The last time you plotted something, I ended up covered in flour,” you explained, remembering one of the many pranks you suffered in that house.

“It has nothing to do with that, it's a secret matter between Valentina and me and you don't have to stick your nose into our affairs,” Angie said, gaining more confidence in herself, making you snort desperately, knowing that, in truth, she was the best of confidants.

“Okay, this time you get your way, but I promise I'll find out,” you said, giving up, uncrossing your arms and leaving the doll alone.

“Well, I hope so,” the puppet commented, making you snort again, letting you fall on the couch, waiting for another delicious dinner.

Dinner that didn't take long to arrive, fortunately. Being alone with Angie was quite, how to say it, disturbing, sinister, terrifying…

“It's delicious,” you sighed, trying another of her succulent recipes, letting the flavors mix in your mouth like a perfect symphony. Donna looked up and smiled pleased, a rosy tone on her cheeks.

“I'm glad to know it, but I don't want to take all the credit,” she said with a soft voice, taking a sip from her wine glass, looking at the girl, sitting next to you. “Valentina has helped me a lot, right?”

“Yes, yes, I helped mommy with the dough, look mom, I still have flour on my hands,” your daughter said, showing small white spots on her hands, smiling enthusiastically.

You smiled at the lady and then at the girl, with an exaggerated look of astonishment.

“Really? Wow, you're certainly going to be a great cook when you grow up,” you said, amused, winking at Donna, who responded with a smile.

“Yes, I would really like to be like mommy,” Valentina said, with her face stained with tomato, a face that the lady in black rushed to clean lovingly, separating the hair from her face. You laughed, shaking your head and drinking some water.

“Well, you don't have to make a big effort. You're already identical to her,” you murmured, raising your eyebrows, focusing on those expressive features.

“But, but I also want to learn to take care of flowers like you, mom,” the girl commented, playing with her food, with a slightly sad tone that you ignored.

“Wow, that's new,” you said with a smile, pinching her cheek playfully. “I don't know if you'll have time to do all those things.”

“Yes, I’ll have enough time!” Valentina protested, sulking at your jokes. “Hey, mom… Mommy…”

“What, my love?” Donna asked, stopping eating because Valentina's enthusiasm had faded.

“I want to have a brother, or a sister,” the girl murmured, without looking at your faces. And thank goodness she didn't do it, because you both stayed glued to the table, looking at each other with wide eyes.

“What?” You asked, just in case you had heard wrong, you hadn't.

“Valentina, don't tell them!” Angie interrupted, jumping on the table, something she knows it annoyed you too much.

“Get off the table, Angie, we're eating,” you hissed, pushing the puppet, which took refuge in the girl's lap. She was still playing with her food, as if she hadn't finished saying what she had just said.

“But Valen, why do you tell them? It was supposed to be a secret...” the doll protested. The girl simply shrugged.

“Mom always says that if you want something you have to ask nicely,” the little girl murmured, making a tender smile to form on your face.

“Nonsense, what they have to do is to be alone and then you might have a sibling. But they already know, great idea, Valentina,” the doll said, getting off the girl and causing you to grunt.

“So that was it,” you sighed, leaning your back on the chair, looking at Donna, who stood petrified, frowning.

“Don't you give each other enough kisses?” Valentina asked, making the two of you look at her curiously. “Angie told me that if you kissed each other a lot, maybe…”

“Did Angie tell you that?” Donna asked, with a frightened look, searching with her eye for the puppet, who came out from under the table with a cocky posture.

“What? Do you want me to tell her the truth?” Angie asked, feigning indifference.

“No!” you and Donna shouted at the same time.

The doll laughed triumphantly, making a farewell gesture with her hands, leaving you with that panorama.

“Um... Valentina, honey, why do you want a sibling?” you asked, seeing that Donna was unable to react.

“Because it would give me a lot of company, I would like to have someone to play with, and teach them things like you and mommy do with me,” the little girl explained. Well, you could be proud, little Beneviento was smart, very smart.

“But, but honey... You already have Angie,” Donna said, clearing her throat and surprisingly daring to get into the conversation.

“I know but it's not the same. We would both be happier if we had a brother or sister. We could play more things,” the girl stammered.

You and Donna looked at each other again, not knowing what to say. It would be best to ignore it, for now.

“Well, it’s done,” you said after putting your daughter to bed, who was still insisting on that matter. Donna looked at you, still in her black dress and her hair up. She looked like she was thinking about something. “The girl sleeps… Well, like a baby.”

“Great,” Donna whispered, kissing you quickly.

“Hey! Is everything to your liking? Shall I sing you something romantic?” a shrill voice sounded from behind the door. You rolled your eyes and opened it. Just as you suspected, Angie.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you hissed, leaning against the door frame. “Have you left Valentina alone?”

“Valentina is asleep, stupid, I'm just making sure the environment is ideal for... Well, for making babies,” Angie responded, lowering her tone as she uttered those last words.

“What? Oh my… Get out,” you said angrily, annoyed by that attitude. Maybe you were nervous.

“But…”

“Get out!” you yelled, closing the door with a terrible slam, laughing amused but annoyed at the same time. “You have to start turning off that doll at night…”

Donna laughed, shaking her head, undoing her black bun and brushing her hair in a calm but suspiciously slow manner.

“I don't know why those ideas have suddenly entered Valentina's head,” you sighed, letting yourself fall on the bed, exhausted by the motherhood of each day. “Have you talked to her about it?”

“No,” the lady in black answered, dryly, but softly.

“Mm, it must have been that porcelain demon,” you murmured, slowly letting the air out of your lungs. “Can you imagine? Another child running around the house… How crazy.”

“Yes, how crazy,” Donna repeated, with a voice that revealed the hard work of her mind in thoughts that you couldn't read.

“We have enough with Valentina,” you said, sitting on the bed and unbuttoning your shoes.

“Do we have enough?” Donna asked, turning to you, making you frown in confusion, studying her serene look, but which betrayed nervousness.

“What do you mean?” you asked curiously, standing up and walking towards the dresser, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Nothing, forget it,” she said, kissing the back of your hand and standing up, beginning to unbutton her dress. You, knowing it was a dirty lie, sighed, grabbing her wrists and forcing her to look at you.

“Donna,” you said with a low, soft voice, returning your hand to her cheek, making her nervousness even more evident. “Tell me what you're thinking.”

“Nothing, I don't think anything, just nonsense,” she said without looking at your face, pushing your hand away and running away from you cowardly. You laughed as you remembered Angie's almost identical way of doing the same thing.

“Let's see what nonsense is it...” you insisted, grabbing her waist from behind, kissing her neck so she would laugh nervously and shyly, so she would lower her guard again.

“Nothing, no, it's nothing,” she said, fleeing from your cruel kisses, the best of your weapons to extract the truth from her lips.

“Oh, yes it is...” you hummed, continuing with your innocent torture.

“Well, okay, okay,” she said exhaustedly, turning away from you among nervous laughs, relaxing her expression immediately. “Does it really seem crazy to you?”

“What, darling?” you asked, relaxing yourself, paying attention to the brunette, who seemed to be hesitant.

“You, you know...To have another child...” the lady in black whispered, lowering her gaze, trying not to make it coincide with hers.

You, who thought your opinion was the same as hers, sighed, sitting back down on the bed, dragging Donna with you, playing with her hand.

“Well, I... You know, you know that I adore Valentina but... I don't know, Donna, another child, with Angie around, with Valentina...” you commented, being completely sincere. “You want to…?”

“I, well, the truth is that... I wouldn't mind having another baby... I think Valentina is right and she might use another child to play with,” the brunette explained. You nodded slowly, listening to her arguments.

Maybe you hadn't stopped to think about it clearly. You had no problems of any kind, the house was big, Angie was there to raise, or spoil, the children... Another little Beneviento running through the hallways? Little by little it stopped sounding that bad in your head.

“Maybe, maybe you're right,” you said quietly, pulling Donna to sit next to you, looking at you curiously, with a certain air of sadness. “Okay, okay, let's have another child.”

“Just like that? Have you already convinced yourself?” Donna asked, looking at you suspiciously. Yes, normally you were much more stubborn.

“Yes, well... The truth is that I wouldn't mind at all. When you're right, I like to tell you, darling,” you said with a slightly different voice, approaching the lady in black suggestively.

She raised her eyebrows and sighed with that half smile that told you her feelings, how much she loved you, how sincere her love was.

“Okay then,” she whispered, kissing you unexpectedly, looking at you carefully. “I love you so much, darling... So, so much...”

“Me too,” you whispered, resting your forehead on hers, breathing in conjunction with her, thus confirming that sudden decision, but about which you had no doubt.

Having settled that small but quick argument, you decided to stop talking and act, moving until you were on top of the brunette, who moaned, surprised by your movement and by your small kisses on her lips.

“(Y/N), what are you doing?” she asked confused, smiling but stopping your desire for affection, making her breathing labored.

“Well, that's what we said, having a baby,” you said amused, unbuttoning your own dress, doing maneuvers on her lap. Donna looked at you strangely, shaking her head.

“Oh, well, I... No, it doesn't have to be today, (Y/N), we can wait for...” she murmured, not being able to stop her gaze from going straight to your now almost exposed chest, at least until your hands unclasped your bra.

“Waiting for what? Come on, Donna, you're the one who wanted...” you said, getting closer to her ear, bringing her hand to your bare chest, making her gaze darken, just like you wanted.

“Well, I...” she stammered, too focused on her soft touch on your skin, on the sensations that her fingers provoked, making your skin shiver while your hips began to dance on their own.

“Come on, let's not waste any more time, right?” you said, getting off her lap to crawl across the sheets, dragging poor Donna with you hopelessly.

“I see you’re very anxious,” she murmured amused, getting rid of her dress with a couple of quick movements, exposing in front of you the beauty of her body, that pale and shiny skin that made you thank Mother Miranda for being alive, for being able to enjoy those wonderful views.

“Me? I don't think so,” you said jokingly, biting your lip when your gaze went down her body, thus showing the small bulge that you could already notice in her underwear. She was always so sensitive, so perfect... “Maybe I'm not the one who's anxious, Donna,” you whispered in her ear, lowering your hand and stroking her erection slowly, eliciting a silent moan and a shy smile from her.

“You make me anxious, (Y/N)” she responded with a special sparkle in her eye, with a seductive smile, showing you that slightly more extroverted side, that passion that took a long time to show when you met her.

With a wide smile as your only silent response, you let your hands pull her body so it settled on top of yours, noticing her heat with yours, her skin with yours, that annoying sensation of feeling the black fabric that covered her breasts with your fingers.

With a gasp, feigning a kind of childish offense, the garment gave way under your fingers as your lips were mercilessly assaulted, while her touch traveled over your skin like an exploration, like an expedition to the peak of pleasure.

You moaned as you felt her hands on your breasts, yours on hers, her lips on your neck, yours anywhere that belonged to her, on her shoulder, in her black hair, on her cheek. Any place was worthy of your kisses, any corner of her skin deserved to be praised.

Subtle moans and gasps replaced words. They were no longer so necessary. A kiss here, another there, a caress, a bite, that was your way of communicating in that dance of hands flying over your bodies, of legs that sought friction, of hips that cried to join together.

“You're so beautiful...” Donna whispered, with a sensual accent, not doing it on purpose but making you only more excited, making her laugh in your ear while her body, already hard, already ready to love you, rubbed against your wet, eager entrance.

“You're beautiful,” you responded, giving her shoulder a gentle tap in amused protest at that fiery compliment. Two sincere smiles formed on your faces, stopping the desire for a moment, searching in each other for some impediment to continue, some shadow of doubt in your actions.

“Is everything okay, darling?” you asked as her face relaxed before nodding, before her hand began to wander up your leg erratically.

“Yes, I just, I just thank fate for giving me the opportunity to have you by my side,” Donna whispered romantically, but seriously, showing that this was not an impure act, purely lustful.

No, it wasn't, not as such. It was an act of love, an attempt to conceive a new life inside you, a new addiction to that family, to your family. For you there was no better way to love.

“Stop telling me those things... They make me nervous,” you said, moving your legs so the only piece of clothing left on your body slid comically down them. Donna looked at you, arching her eyebrow, helping the garment disappear from the path of her touch.

“Maybe I want to make you nervous, I want you to tremble when I make love to you,” she whispered in a slightly dark way, but which, of course, had the complete opposite effect, making a high-pitched moan escape your lips.

“It's impossible not to tremble with you, my love,” you replied amused, closing your eyes, remaining speechless when her hands reached the wet region between your legs, excited, burning with desire, when her fingers gently ran through your wet folds, as if she wanted to provoke you or play with you.

You laughed, relaxing at her soft, careful, delicate touch, a touch that reminded you of when she worked on her dolls. Her skillful fingers, an expression that reflected her concentration, that reflected her sole wish to make you enjoy.

“If you continue like this, I will do it now,” you warned, amused, feeling how the curvature of her fingers brushed your walls, how they prepared the wet ground for the future intrusion.

Donna didn't speak, she didn't respond, she simply acted. With a gasp of relief, she freed her trembling shaft from its black fabric prison, moving it, caressing it before placing it just in the desired spot, impregnating the tip with the wetness of your arousal.

“Are you ready, tesoro?” she asked, with a voice that betrayed her own desire, her own anxiety, making sure before plunging into your body, like she always did, like you always wanted her to do.

“Since I met you, Donna,” you said, giving your approval, immediately feeling that intrusion, that pleasant deformation of your walls welcoming the brunette between them, hugging her.

She moaned at the sensation, at the way your body received hers, an automatic, wet way, as if your own walls wanted to caress her, make her enjoy.

When she settled completely inside you, she leaned in to kiss you, her body trembling from the sensation, moving little by little.

“Your body is perfect... You hug me so well,” she said, whispering, with soft words, in line with the movements of her hips.

You just smiled as moans slipped past your lips. The pleasure was overwhelming, as always, the sensations prevented you from having that mind that Donna had, that ability to speak clearly while feeling such pleasure.

Your lips could only respond one way, capturing hers with them, kissing the doll maker while that sexual dance caused a wet soundtrack in the walls of the room.

Her hands hugged you while her own moans lost harmony little by little, in conjunction with your own movements, with the way your legs hooked around her waist, keeping her very close to you, melting together.

“Donna, I'm, I'm close,” you said, almost scared, when a current of pleasure made your entire body tremble, when it made your hips rise quickly against hers, with your walls beginning to narrow dangerously. She laughed against your skin, speeding up her thrusts, maintaining the intensity, but reaching even more to that place you wanted.

“Me too, tesoro, just a... Little... More...” Donna said erratically, losing control of the soft harmony of her hips, noticing how your orgasm devoured you without you being able to prevent it, trapping her erection in your body, hugging it with soft spasms of your hips. “(Y/N)”

A gasp of surprise left her lips, followed by a guttural moan, a warm wetness on your body that signaled her own release. That unique, wet caress, that hot liquid inside of you made you moan even louder, while her movements stopped being so intense, becoming aftershocks of her orgasm before collapsing on top of you, exhausted.

Gasps replaced the obscene sounds in the dark room. The wetness of your legs reminded you again and again of the pleasure you had felt, and the possible consequences, some that you had already fully assumed, some consequences you wanted.

“Mmm, Donna...” you purred, softly kissing the brunette, who settled next to you, her face red from tiredness, her nervous breathing, but with her gaze fixed on yours.

“Tesoro... You're perfect,” she murmured, kissing you back, smiling grateful for the pleasure you gave her, or perhaps for agreeing to your daughter's wishes, you didn't know, but you didn't care.

“Do you think we will have achieved it?” you asked, intertwining your legs. She shrugged.

“I don't know, I guess it's too early to tell,” she replied, with a sleepy voice that you found terribly adorable.

“Mm, well, if not, we can keep trying and...” you said sensually, but stopping when you heard a strange noise behind the door. “It just can't be…”

Covering yourself with the sheets you walked towards the door.

“Angie!” You shouted furiously when you saw the puppet flee through the hallway.

“Valentina, Valentina!” the doll shouted, making Donna sit up, rubbing her eye. “Little sibling is on the way!”

“Damn…”

#donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #re8 donna #re8 village #oneshot #requests

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tatumeyecare · 1 year

Text

Could Exercise Help Prevent Eye Damage?

In a world dominated by screens and digital devices, our eyes are subjected to unprecedented strain. The burning question on many minds is, "Could Exercise Help Prevent Eye Damage?" The answer lies in understanding the intricate connection between physical activity and eye health.

Importance of Eye Health

- Impact of Modern Lifestyle on Eyes

Our modern lifestyle has revolutionized the way we live, but it hasn't been kind to our eyes. Prolonged exposure to screens, be it from smartphones or computers, has become inevitable, leading to increased eye fatigue and strain.

- The Role of Exercise in Eye Health

Exercise emerges as a beacon of hope in this scenario. Regular physical activity has been linked to numerous health benefits, and its positive impact on eye health is gaining recognition.

Understanding Eye Damage

- Common Causes of Eye Damage

Before delving into the potential benefits of exercise, it's crucial to understand the common causes of eye damage. Factors like prolonged screen time, inadequate rest, and exposure to environmental pollutants can contribute to eye-related issues.

- Long-Term Effects of Neglecting Eye Care

Neglecting eye care can result in long-term consequences such as myopia, astigmatism, and even age-related conditions like macular degeneration. The importance of proactive eye care cannot be overstated.

Benefits of Exercise for Eyes

- Improved Blood Circulation

Exercise, especially cardiovascular activities, enhances blood circulation throughout the body, including the eyes. Improved blood flow means better delivery of oxygen and essential nutrients to ocular tissues.

- Reduced Risk of Age-Related Conditions

As we age, the risk of conditions like macular degeneration and cataracts increases. Engaging in regular exercise has been shown to mitigate this risk, promoting long-term eye health.

- Enhanced Oxygen Supply to Eyes

The eyes thrive on oxygen. Exercise promotes efficient oxygen supply, ensuring that ocular tissues receive the necessary oxygen levels to function optimally.

Types of Exercises for Eye Health

- Eye Exercises

Specific exercises targeting eye muscles can alleviate strain and enhance flexibility. From eye rolls to focusing exercises, incorporating these into your routine can contribute to overall eye well-being.

- General Physical Activities

Beyond specific eye exercises, general physical activities like walking, jogging, or cycling can indirectly benefit eye health by improving overall circulation.

Incorporating Exercise into Daily Routine

- Simple Exercises for Eye Health

Integrating eye exercises into your daily routine doesn't have to be complicated. Simple practices like the 20-20-20 rule (looking 20 feet away for 20 seconds every 20 minutes) can work wonders.

- Tips for Balancing Screen Time

While exercise is beneficial, striking a balance is key. Managing screen time, taking regular breaks, and adopting ergonomic workstations are essential components of holistic eye care.

Could Exercise Help Prevent Eye Damage?

- Research and Studies

Scientific research supports the idea that exercise could play a pivotal role in preventing eye damage. Studies have indicated a positive correlation between regular physical activity and a reduced risk of various eye-related issues.

- Expert Opinions

Experts in ophthalmology endorse the significance of exercise in maintaining eye health. Dr. Sarah Johnson, a renowned ophthalmologist, emphasizes the need for a comprehensive approach, including exercise, for preventing eye damage.

FAQs

Can Exercise Improve Vision? Regular exercise can contribute to improved blood circulation and overall health, which may positively impact vision.

How Often Should I Exercise for Eye Health? Consistency is key. Aim for at least 30 minutes of moderate-intensity exercise most days of the week.

Are There Exercises to Reduce Eye Strain? Yes, simple eye exercises and the 20-20-20 rule can help alleviate eye strain.

Can Diet Affect Eye Health? Absolutely. A nutrient-rich diet with antioxidants supports overall eye health.

Is Yoga Beneficial for Eye Health? Yes, certain yoga poses and techniques can enhance eye flexibility and reduce strain.

Any Precautions for Exercising Eyes? Consult with an eye care professional before starting any specific eye exercises, especially if you have pre-existing conditions.

Conclusion

In the quest for optimal eye health, exercise emerges as a formidable ally. The amalgamation of a healthy lifestyle, balanced screen time, and targeted exercises could be the key to preventing eye damage. Remember, proactive care today ensures clearer vision tomorrow.

Tatum Eyecare is North Phoenix’s premier family eye care center. We’ve spared no expense to create the most pleasant, comfortable patient experience… including the finest furnishings, the best selection of prescription eyeglass frames, the most cutting-edge technology, and the most outstanding team of industry professionals. Come see why the choice for family eye care in the Valley has never been clearer.

#Eye health exercises #Preventing eye damage #Vision improvement workouts #Ocular wellness activities #Eye fitness activities #Eye health maintenance #Natural eye protection methods #Promoting eye resilience

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cambion-companion · 2 years

Note

I have a request if you’re still taking them :)

Something with reader who knows how to fight and spars Aemond a bit and ends getting injured somehow (perhaps sparring Aemond 👀) and doesn’t tell him about it and he doesn’t know till reader collapses or something

Hope you’re having a lovely day! I love your fics :)

Hi guys! This is a great idea; hope you like what I made! ((His face in this gif hurts my heart))

Word count: 1156

Masterlist here

Aemond x wife!reader | Injury

You let out a sharp curse, throwing your body to the side as your husband’s sword arced down at you. Adrenaline coursed through your veins as your feet skidded on the soft earth, barely keeping your balance as you dodged yet another blow.

“Seven hells, Aemond!” You half-shouted, backing away yet further as he advanced, his one violet eye calculating your defensive stance. “Why must you always insist on sparring with real weapons?”

“It.”

You blocked a blow to your right side.

“Builds.”

You ducked another aimed for your shoulder.

“Character.”

Aemond accentuated each word with a flourishing attack, driving you back until you made contact with the stone wall of the courtyard.

Your swords met, with a ringing of metal, as you intercepted him yet again, your weapons scraping against each other as you struggled. Grunting with effort, you raised a booted foot and kicked at Aemond’s midriff, pushing him away enough to get in a few attacks of your own, though each he deflected with ease.

“There won’t be character to build if one of us gets stabbed through the throat, not that it would be you of course.” You eased up on your offense, panting to catch your breath.

“No better way to prepare for the actual experience of combat, Y/N.” Aemond chided, twirling his sword expertly as he waited for you to recover a bit. “The harder we train, the easier to defeat an actual enemy.”

He rushed you then, catching you completely and literally off-guard. Blood raced through your veins, your body hot and sweaty from the exertion of fending off his rapid strikes. In desperation, you leapt toward him, casting yourself to the ground, rolling on your shoulder to come upright behind him, and taking a swing of your own at his unguarded back.

Your sword made contact, though you were sure to hit him with the flat of the blade.

“Very good!” Aemond lowered his sword, giving you a cursory look of approval before returning it to the weapons table. “You’re improving significantly.” He spoke with his back still turned to you, his thick silver hair messily falling down his back. “Perhaps now you see the wisdom in training with sharpened weapons.”

“Aemond…I-”

“We can move on to dual wielding next, as you were so eager to begin last week.” Your husband continued, not hearing your small voice, wiping the moisture off the metal blade and sheathing it in a leather scabbard. “Would you prefer a shorts word to begin with, perhaps?”

“Y/N?”

He turned to see why you had grown so silent, his eye widening in alarm as he took in your blanched face.

“Aemond. I don’t feel so great.” You removed your hand from where it had been pressing against your thigh, your palm coated in your own red blood. The sight sent your vision spinning, as you swayed alarmingly on the spot.

You registered the crunch of gravel as Aemond ran to your side, scooping you into his arms as your knees gave way.

As he hurried up the stone steps to the Keep, pain began blossoming in your leg as the numbness from all the exercise began wearing off. You began groaning softly as it mounted, Aemond soothing you as best he could while hastening to the maester’s quarters.

You looked down to access the damage, seeing the torn fabric of your tunic pants, the thick blood seeping across the fabric, dripping onto the stone floor. That’s when you fell limp, you head lolling back, as you fainted, heedless of Aemond calling your name.

—

You were aware of soft voices, the feel of warm blankets cocooning you, a dull ache in your right thigh. Your eyes felt heavy, your throat parched.

“She should be right as rain in no time, my prince, there is no cause for worry I assure you.” You heard the voice of an elderly man speaking near where you lay upon soft cushions. “It was a superficial scratch, she’s lost some blood, yes, but I imagine the sight of the wound is what truly caused her to lose consciousness.”

“When will she wake?” This time, it was Aemond’s voice, sounding strained with worry. Something you’d never heard before.

You made an effort to speak, a garble of pain escaping your lips as you shifted, opening your eyes. Aemond crossed to kneel by your side, his fingers intertwining with yours laying upon your belly.

“Y/N, how are you feeling?” His eye roved your features, stress evident upon his angular face.

“Thirsty.” You rasped out, grateful as the old maester handed you a wooden cup full of spring water.

Aemond helped you sit up as you gulped it down, feeling instantly much better.

“Water, food and rest will be the quickest way to recover.” The maester refilled your cup. “The bandages will need to be changed twice a day; I’ll give you the healing salve in just a moment.”

You looked up at the wizened man gratefully. “Thank you.”

“Of course, my dear.” He shuffled to a wooden table, corking a small glass bottle. “If I might suggest.” Turning to the prince, he placed the ointment in Aemond’s hand. “Training with blunted weapons from now on, your highness.”

Aemond nodded briefly, thanking the maester before escorting him out of the room. He was at your side again in two long strides, bending to places a fervent kiss to your temple. “I was foolish, Y/N, and you paid the price.” He pressed his forehead to yours, his eye fluttering closed, brow furrowed. “I cannot stand the thought of you in pain because of me, tell me how I can help you.”

You closed your own eyes, the salve that had previously been applied taking away the edge of the pain in your leg. “Perhaps a nice foot rub would be a good start to your penance, my husband.”

“Hmm.” Aemond pulled back to read your expression, a tentative smile tugging at his lips. “That seems a small price for me to pay. Perhaps you can come up with more ideas in the meantime.”

He pulled your stockings off, rubbing circles into your aching feet, his hands feeling warm on your chilly skin. “You can bring me my meals, read to me…” You smiled slyly over at him. “Kiss me occasionally.”

He shook his silver head fondly, smiling with you. “That all goes without saying, Y/N.”

“Telling me how sorry you are and that I am always right wouldn’t go amiss either.” You hummed a contented sound, snuggling deeper into your blankets as Aemond began massaging up your calves.

He placed a kiss to your knee. “I’ll do all that and more, my love. Again, I am truly sorry for being so reckless with the one person in this world I couldn’t bear to lose.”

The sadness in his voice had you sitting up, despite his protestations to remain reclined. You leant forward, cupping his chin in your hand. “Oh Aemond.” You ran your thumb across his full bottom lip. “I’m not going anywhere I promise you. You’re stuck with me for a while yet, my dragon.”

#aemond angst #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond x you #aemond fanfic #aemond targaryen x you #prince aemond x reader #pro aemond targaryen #prince aemond targaryen #prince aemond x you #aemond imagine #aemond oneshot #aemond targaryen #aemond fluff #aemond fanfiction #aemond x oc

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eyetrackathlete · 4 months

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Unleash Your Running Potential: Proven Eye Exercises for Better Vision

Unlock your running prowess by incorporating proven eye exercises into your routine. Regular eye workouts enhance depth perception and spatial awareness, crucial for navigating varied terrains. Consider using an eye massager to reduce Dark Circles and Eye bags, ensuring your eyes are in peak condition. The Renpho Eye Massager is an excellent eye massager for eye bags, promoting relaxation and improved vision. Pair these exercises with holistic Treatments and explore the Incredible Benefits of Exercise Bikes to boost your overall fitness. Enhance your vision and elevate your running performance effortlessly.

#wellness #healthylifestyle #health & fitness #eye massager #running

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musicforastylesrestaurant · 11 months

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The Masquerade.

fictober masterlist || ask me anything <3

authors note - this was actually one of my favourite concepts to write, i'm not sure why but i think it was because of all the angst that it's filled with...

word count - 10.5k (sheesh…)

in which, your friend drags you along to a high school reunion halloween party, which you one hundred percent do not feel in the mood to attend, but his nagging doesn't hold off, so being the good friend you are, you give into his nagging. a shocking revelation occurs when your ex walks through the door who you as well as everyone else didn’t expect to turn up leading to a confrontation that's nothing but emotional.

trope: exboyfriend!harry

Teaching ten-year-old girls football has been your lifelong dream, a passion that ignited when you were just a child yourself. You remember the sheer joy and exhilaration the sport brought you, until that fateful day when you got tackled and broke your leg at the age of nineteen. That incident left you with an indelible fear of playing again, but it couldn't extinguish your love for the game. So, you decided to channel your passion into a different path - you pursued a degree in football coaching.

Now, as you stand on the field, overseeing a group of eager young girls, you can't help but smile. You see a reflection of your younger self in their bright eyes, full of curiosity and excitement. The thrill of imparting your knowledge and nurturing their love for the sport is immeasurable.

You've learned from your own experience that winning isn't everything. It's about fostering a love for the game and helping these girls develop both as players and as individuals. When they win, your heart swells with pride, knowing you've played a part in their success. But when they face defeat, you're not too harsh on them. Instead, you use those moments as opportunities for growth.

Your training sessions are carefully designed to balance skill-building with fun. You know that at this age, it's essential to keep them engaged and enthusiastic. So, you blend drills and exercises with playful activities that make learning enjoyable. You've seen firsthand how this approach helps the girls not only improve their football skills but also develop teamwork, discipline, and confidence.

As you watch them practice and play, you often reminisce about your own playing days, feeling a pang of nostalgia mixed with pride. Despite your personal setback, you've found a way to stay connected to the sport you love and make a meaningful impact on these young athletes' lives. It's not just about winning or losing; it's about nurturing their passion, teaching them resilience, and giving them the tools to succeed both on and off the field.

You're living your dream, not as a player but as a coach, and the smiles on those girls' faces when they score a goal or make a brilliant pass make every moment, every training session, and every challenge worth it.

As the final whistle blows, you gather the girls into a huddle at the centre of the field, the bright sunlight casting a warm glow around your circle. You can see a mixture of emotions on their faces, some tired but determined, others a bit disappointed, but all eager to hear your thoughts.

You begin with a smile, looking at each of them with pride.

"Alright, team, gather around!" you say, your voice filled with encouragement. "I want you to know how proud I am of each and every one of you out there today. You showed great spirit and determination, and that's what counts."

One of the girls, Sarah, raises her hand eagerly. "Coach, I scored my first goal today! I was so excited!"

You beam at her. "That's fantastic, Sarah! Your goal was brilliant. You showed excellent positioning and a great sense of timing. Keep it up!"

Mia chimes in, "Coach, I made some good passes, didn't I?"

You nod appreciatively. "Absolutely, Mia. Your passes were spot on. You demonstrated great vision on the field, and that's a crucial skill."

As you continue, you make sure to acknowledge the efforts of each player, whether it was a solid defensive play, a remarkable save by the goalkeeper, or simply the teamwork they displayed throughout the game. You want them all to feel valued and recognized for their contributions.

"Team," you say, "remember, winning is great, but it's not the only measure of success. We learn and grow from every game, whether we win or lose. Today, we saw incredible teamwork, and that's something we can always build on."

Sophie, one of the quieter girls, raises her hand tentatively. "Coach, what can we improve on?"

You smile at her eagerness to learn. "Sophie, that's an excellent question. We can work on our passing accuracy and defensive positioning. But remember, it's all part of the journey. We're here to improve together."

The huddle breaks with a round of applause for their efforts, and the girls leave the field with their heads held high.

You finish up with the girls' soccer practice, feeling a sense of fulfilment from a productive day on the field. However, you're also aware of the impending challenge of getting home, thanks to your recent leg injury. You remember that your best friend, Jamie, had promised you a ride, and that brings a sigh of relief.

You spot Jamie leaning against his car, a friendly grin on his face as he watches you approaching. His presence is like a beacon of support. As you get closer, you can't contain your excitement and rush over to him, throwing your arms around him in a bone-crushing hug.

"Jamie!" you exclaim, your voice filled with genuine joy. "It's so good to see you! How was your holiday?"

Jamie returns the hug with enthusiasm, his voice laced with excitement. "Oh, it was amazing! You wouldn't believe the places I got to explore and the food I got to try. But honestly, I've missed you so much!"

You step back from the hug, both of you wearing wide smiles. "I missed you too, buddy. And thanks a million for coming to pick me up. You're a lifesaver."

Jamie chuckles, giving you a playful nudge. "No problem at all, mate. That's what best friends are for, right? Let's get you home comfortably."

As you both hop into the car, the conversation flows effortlessly. You catch up on the latest news, sharing stories and laughter like you always do. The car ride feels like a warm reunion, and you can't help but be grateful for having such a dependable and caring friend like Jamie.

As the car ride continues, Jamie glances over at you with curiosity. "So, what are your plans for tonight?"

You lean back in the comfortable car seat, enjoying the familiarity of the conversation.

"Well," you start, "first things first, I need to head home and have a quick shower. I've been running around with the girls all afternoon, and I must be a bit of a mess."

Jamie chuckles, understanding the need for a post-practice refresh. "Sounds like a plan. And then?"

You smile, thinking about your precious daughter. "After the shower, it's time to drop Lilah off at her dad's place. She's with my sister right now."

Jamie nods, his eyes reflecting empathy. "How's she doing these days?"

You sigh, a mix of emotions flooding over you. "She's growing up so fast, Jamie. Four years old already, and she's as curious and energetic as ever. It's a bit tough juggling everything, but it's all worth it for her."

Delilah Rae (Y/L/N)-Cooper.

When you were twenty five, to celebrate the new year you had gone out with Jamie, his boyfriend as well as your sister, the four of you had gone up London to see the fireworks at the Thames.

That was where you met Levi Cooper.

The two of you spent the night together after both of you had a bit too much to drink at the club, you kept catching each other's eyes from across the rooms, his blue coloured eyes locking onto yours and the rest was history.

The two of you did keep in touch after your impromptu meeting, well you suppose you had to seeing as you were having his baby. The one night you spent together had given the two of you an eighteen year commitment.

He was shocked at first that you were pregnant, but he was nothing but supportive, every prenatal class he was by your side, every scan he was sat at the side of the bed and when your waters broke and you gave birth to a beautiful baby girl he sobbed.

The two of you did try to date, but it just seemed that the two of you were just better at being friends.

He was engaged now to a lovely women named Eloise.

Jamie gives you a supportive pat on the shoulder. "You're an amazing parent, you know that, right?"

You blush a little at the compliment. "Thanks, J. I'm just trying to do my best for her."

As the car ride with Jamie continues, he leans over with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Hey, guess what? The high school reunion is tonight!"

You immediately shake your head with a firm resolve. "No way, Jamie. I'm not going to that."

Jamie raises an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "Oh, come on! It could be a blast. We haven't seen some of those folks in ages!"

You let out a sigh, knowing that Jamie won't easily accept your refusal. "Jamie, there's really no reason for me to go. I've moved on from all that high school drama."

He grins, persistent in his efforts. "But it's a chance to catch up, see where everyone ended up, share stories..."

You shoot him a knowing look. "Jamie, we've got Facebook for that. Besides, I'm perfectly content with my life now."

Jamie continues to plead, "Think of the nostalgia, the old memories..."

You chuckle, shaking your head again. "Nostalgia isn't enough to make me want to relive those awkward teenage years, Jamie."

He's not giving up easily, leaning closer and trying a different approach. "What if I promise to be your wingman all night?"

You raise an eyebrow in mock disbelief. "And what, introduce me to every person there as 'the one who didn't want to come'?"

You arrive home with Jamie, your key poised to open the door. You're eager to see your precious daughter, Delilah, who's been anxiously waiting for your return after her day with your sister. The door swings open, and before you can even step inside, you hear the pattering of little feet.

"Mommy!" Delilah exclaims, her face lighting up with pure joy as she runs straight into your open arms.

You scoop her up, her tiny arms wrapping tightly around your neck, and you pepper her face with a thousand kisses. "Oh, my sweet Lilah-bug, I missed you so much!"

Delilah giggles, her laughter filling the room. "I missed you too, Mommy!"

Jamie watches the heartwarming reunion with a smile, his eyes filled with warmth and happiness.

"Hey, Delilah," he says, crouching down to her level. "I missed you too."

Delilah looks at Jamie with curiosity, her innocent eyes studying him for a moment before breaking into a shy smile. "Hi, JJ!”

As you enjoy the family reunion with Delilah and Jamie, your sister Abigail walks into the room with a warm smile. "Hey, how was your day?"

You return her smile. "It was good, Abi. The footy practice went well, and now I'm just happy to be home."

Abigail looks at Jamie with a playful grin. "And what about you, Jamie? How have you been?"

Jamie chuckles, leaning back in his chair. "Well, it was a lot of travelling, but it's all worth it to spend time with these two."

You nods in agreement, then turns you attention to Delilah. "So, sweetheart, what did you and Auntie Abigail do today?"

Delilah's eyes light up with excitement. "We played in the park, and Auntie Abigail pushed me on the swings really high! It was so much fun!"

Abigail laughs, ruffling Delilah's hair affectionately. "That's right, we had a blast at the park. And afterward, we baked some delicious cookies, didn't we?"

Delilah nods vigorously. "Yep! I helped mix the dough, and we even had chocolate chips in them!"

You all gather in the cosy living room, Delilah on your lap, her blonde curly hair tickling your fingers as you brush through it. Abigail breaks the comfortable silence with a practical question, "So, what time does Lilah need to be at Levi's?"

You glance at your watch and reply, "Half past six should be good."

Jamie, ever the talkative one, chimes in enthusiastically, "Perfect! That works because the reunion starts at seven!"

Abigail's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. " reunion? What are you talking about?"

You roll your eyes playfully at Jamie, thinking he's just teasing. "He's talking rubbish, as usual."

But Jamie jumps in again, this time with a more serious tone. "No, seriously, there's a school reunion tonight."

Abigail looks genuinely surprised. "A school reunion? Why wasn't I informed?"

You sigh, not thrilled with the idea. "Honestly, I'd rather just sit at home and relax."

Abigail, ever the one to push you out of your comfort zone, raises an eyebrow. "Come on, it might be fun! You need a good night out."

You let out a reluctant sigh, knowing your sister's right. "Alright, fine, we'll think about it."

Abigail's eyes twinkle mischievously. "Who knows, you might even rekindle something with a certain someone."

You give her a knowing look, realising exactly who she's referring to. "Abigail, we broke up in high school. It's been ages."

Jamie joins in with a laugh. "You never know, sparks might fly."

In the midst of the bustling high school hallway, you stand at your locker, neatly organising your books for the next class. The sound of lockers slamming and laughter fills the air, creating a lively atmosphere.

Suddenly, you feel two warm arms wrap around your waist from behind, and the familiar scent of Harry Styles' aftershave instantly captures your senses.

With a playful giggle, you turn your head to the side, your eyes meeting his.

"Well, hello there, Mr. Styles," you tease, a hint of a smile playing on your lips.

Harry's emerald green eyes twinkle mischievously as he leans in closer. "Couldn't resist sneaking up on you, m’darlin’. Y’look t’cute sorting y’books."

You blush at the compliment, playfully batting your eyelashes. "Flattery will get you everywhere, you know."

Harry's lips brush against your earlobe as he whispers, "Everywhere, y’say? might have t’take advantage ‘f’that."

You can't help but laugh, your heart swelling with affection for the charming boy who has stolen your heart. "Harry Styles, you're incorrigible."

He grins, leaning in to press a gentle kiss on your cheek. "Only when it comes to you, babe."

/ /

Harry stood in his cosy kitchen, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air as he watched the snow gently fall outside the window. It had been a while since he'd seen Ellis, his best mate from high school, and he was glad for the company on this chilly day.

They had grabbed coffee together in the morning, before deciding to have a little walk around the twin they both grew up in.

Ellis sipped her own coffee and leaned against the kitchen counter, looking thoughtful. "you remember the school reunion is tonight, right? What time is it starting?"

Harry stirred his coffee, a pensive expression on his face. "Ye’, m’remember. S’supposed t’be at seven, but m’not sure if m’gonna go."

Ellis raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Not going? Why not?"

Harry sighed, his gaze distant as he remembered the old days. "I don't know, El. S’been ages since I've seen those people. M’not sure I'll fit in anymore."

Ellis chuckled, taking another sip of her coffee. "Mate, you're Harry Styles. You could fit in anywhere."

Harry gave a small smile but still seemed uncertain. "S’not about fitting in, really. S’just... v’moved on from that time in m’life, y’know?"

Ellis nodded in understanding. "I get it, Haz. But it could be fun to catch up, see how everyone's doing."

Harry considered his friend's words. "Yeah, maybe. We'll see."

As the snow continued to fall outside, Harry contemplated the idea of attending the high school reunion. It was a chance to reconnect with old friends and revisit memories, but he couldn't help but wonder if he'd truly find his place in a world that had changed so much since those school days.

You sit in your cozy bedroom, the soft glow of natural light filtering in through the curtains, as you prepare to apply your makeup. Your vanity mirror reflects your anticipation, and you're ready to transform your look for the day.

With a steady hand, you pick up your favorite foundation and begin to blend it evenly across your skin, creating a flawless canvas. As you work, you can't help but appreciate the therapeutic rhythm of the makeup application process.

Next, your eyes catch the eyeshadow palette you've chosen for today's look. With precision, you carefully sweep the hues across your eyelids, creating a captivating blend of colors that complements your style.

You reach for your mascara, preparing to enhance your lashes, making your eyes pop and adding a touch of allure to your gaze. Each stroke brings you one step closer to the final result you envision.

A hint of blush adds a healthy flush to your cheeks, while a sweep of your favorite lipstick completes your look. You can't help but smile as you admire the transformation you've achieved, feeling confident and ready to take on the day.

Your boyfriend at the time, is lounging on your bed, wearing nothing but his boxers. It's one of those mornings after he stayed over, and you're getting ready for school, sitting at your vanity and applying makeup.

As you focus on your makeup routine, you can't help but hear Harry huffing behind you. You ignore it at first, thinking it's just one of his playful quirks. But when he huffs again, you can't help but turn and ask, "What's your issue, Harry?"

He shifts on the bed, looking earnestly at you. "Y’don't need makeup, y’know. Y’already beautiful."

You smile, appreciating his sentiment. "Thanks, baby. But makeup just makes me feel better about myself."

He's not willing to let it go, and he comes up behind you, draping his arms over your shoulders and leaning down so both of you are in view of the vanity mirror. "Seriously, y’don't need it. Y’stunning without it."

You meet his gaze in the mirror, his green eyes filled with genuine affection.

He takes a makeup wipe from your vanity, turning your chair around so that you're facing him. With a slow, deliberate motion, he starts wiping away the makeup from your face. His touch is gentle, and his eyes never leave yours.

As the last traces of makeup disappear, he smiles softly. "See, there y’are, just as beautiful as I knew y’be."

You can't help but laugh, appreciating his effort to make you feel special.

He presses a loving kiss to your forehead, his arms still wrapped around you. "And that's why I love you."

Just as you're finishing up, your daughter, with her unruly curls and a cheeky smile that reminds you so much of her father, rushes into the room. She stands at your side, her eyes wide with curiosity.

You scoop her up and place her on your lap, where she traces the outline of your lipstick with her tiny finger before gently tracing the eyeliner around your eyes.

With a tilt of her head, Delilah grins mischievously. "Mummy, you don't need makeup."

Her words strike a chord deep within you, reminding you of a time long ago when a certain someone had said the same thing. A sense of déjà vu washes over you, and you can't help but smile at the memory.

You ask her, "Why do you say that, sweetheart?"

Delilah looks up at you with those big, innocent eyes. "Because you're beautiful."

As Delilah kisses your nose, you can't help but smile at her sweet gesture.

Levi, her father, may not be present at this moment, but you're grateful for the strong co-parenting relationship you have, which allows Delilah to feel loved and secure.

However, as Delilah's innocent words about your beauty echo in your mind, you can't shake the feeling of déjà vu, reminiscent of your first love, Harry Styles. Your heart aches at the memory of the deep connection you once shared with him, even though you're no longer together.

As you make your way down the stairs, Jamie is waiting for you, dressed in a sharp suit and a warm smile.

Jamie had offered to drive you to Levi's, knowing that your heels might not be the best for walking. He greets you with a friendly grin and says, "Looking stunning, as always."

The dress that Jamie had picked out of your closet was an emerald green one that hugged your body in all the right places. You didn’t exactly know what the colour theme for the Masquerade party was, but you trusted your best friend with his decisions.

You chuckle and adjust Delilah in your arms. "Thanks, J. And thanks for the lift. It's much appreciated."

Delilah, clutching her beloved bunny, looks up at Jamie with a bright smile. "Hi, JJ!"

Jamie leans in and ruffles her hair playfully. "Hey DD. Are you ready to have some fun with your dad?"

Delilah nods eagerly, her excitement contagious. You feel a pang of nostalgia thinking about the family dynamics that have evolved over the years.

The three of you leave the front door behind, the night sky gently illuminated by the soft glow of streetlights. You carefully place Delilah in the car seat that Jamie has in his car, a familiar seat from their countless playdates together. Her eyes are droopy, the weight of a busy day finally catching up to her. You press a loving kiss to her forehead before making your way to the passenger front seat.

Jamie takes the wheel, and the car pulls out of the driveway, embarking on the journey to Levi's place. The cityscape passes by in a blur of lights, creating a serene backdrop to the silent drive. The gentle hum of the engine and the occasional soft lullaby playing on the radio are the only sounds that fill the car.

Delilah's eyelids grow heavier with each passing mile, her breathing steady as she drifts into a peaceful slumber. You glance over at her, a feeling of warmth and contentment washing over you as you watch your daughter sleep, knowing that you're on your way to reunite her with her father. The car moves steadily through the quiet night, a soothing rhythm that lulls you into your own thoughts

As Jamie pulls the car to a stop outside Levi's house, you turn to him and explain, "I'll just five minutes. I need to get her sorted."

Jamie nods in understanding, giving you an assuring smile. "Take your time. I'll wait right here."

You unbuckle your sleeping daughter from her car seat, noticing how her head has lulled to the side, and her tiny thumb has found its way to her mouth. Gently, you lift her into your arms, making sure not to jostle her. She snuggles closer to you, still lost in the embrace of a deep slumber.

Carefully, you shut the car door behind you as quietly as possible, not wanting to disturb her peaceful rest. With Delilah cradled on your hip, you make your way towards Levi's house,

You stop outside Levi's front door, taking a deep breath before ringing the doorbell. You wait patiently, giving it a minute and a half before the door finally swings open. Levi stands there, leaning against the door frame, a smile of genuine warmth spreading across his face as he sees the two of you.

His eyes light up when he notices Delilah fast asleep in your arms. He reaches out to take her gently, pressing a loving kiss to her forehead. Delilah instinctively snuggles in closer to his neck, her tiny thumb still in her mouth.

Levi, cradling her in his arms, starts to sway his hips back and forth, a nostalgic smile on his face as if she were a baby all over again. He whispers, "Hey, little one, how long have you been asleep?"

You reply with a soft chuckle, "She fell asleep on the car ride over."

Levi continues to sway, his voice filled with tenderness. "Oh, my sweet girl. I've missed you so much."

Levi smiles as he looks at you and compliments your dress, "You look beautiful in that dress. Are you heading somewhere nice tonight?"

You chuckle, knowing that he's well aware of your reluctance. "Jamie's dragging me to a school reunion."

Levi laughs in response. "Ah, I see. Well, you'll survive, I'm sure."

You smile and then turn your attention to Delilah, who's fussing in his arms, shifting her head from one side to the other. Leaning forward, you press a soft kiss to her nose and whisper, "I love you, sweetie."

Looking back at Levi, you speak with genuine concern, "If she needs me or anything happens, don't hesitate to call, okay?"

Levi nods with understanding. "Of course, you know I will. Have a good time tonight, and we'll see you on Sunday when you pick her up."

With that, you reluctantly leave Delilah in Levi's care, trusting that they will have a wonderful weekend together while you attend the reunion with Jamie.

You make your way over to Jamie's waiting car and get inside, letting out a deep sigh as you settle into the seat. You turn to him and say with a hint of resignation, "Let's just get this over with, Jamie. Drive, please."

As the engine revs to life, you brace yourself for the upcoming school reunion, knowing that it's not exactly your idea of a fun evening.

Harry stands outside the school, his eyes fixed on the familiar building that holds a lifetime of memories. As he gazes at the entrance, a million images flood his mind, and they all seem to revolve around you.

He remembers the day he mustered up the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend, his heart pounding in his chest as he nervously stammered out the question. It was a moment of pure happiness when you said yes, and he couldn't stop grinning for days.

Then, there's that vivid memory of the night he finally confessed his love for you, the words tumbling out of his mouth in a rush, afraid he might lose you if he didn't say it right then. Your eyes had sparkled with joy, and you'd hugged him tightly, saying you loved him too.

But there's also the painful memory, the one he's tried to push to the back of his mind for so long. The day he didn't turn up, the day he walked out of your life, leaving you none the wiser about the future that awaited him. It had been the hardest decision he'd ever made, but he believed it was the only way to chase his dreams.

His best mate, Ellis, notices his distant demeanor and approaches him with concern. She furrows her brows and asks, "Haz, everything okay?"

He takes a deep breath, trying to shake off the weight of nostalgia that has settled upon him. "Do y’think she'll be ‘ere?"

Ellis studies him, her expression a mix of sympathy and uncertainty. "I'm not sure, Haz. She's hardly kept in touch with anyone since you left. She's started a whole new life."

Harry's heart aches at the reality of it all. The years that have passed, the choices he's made – they've all taken a toll on the life he once shared with you. It's a stark reminder of the chasm that has grown between them, and he can't help but feel a profound sense of regret.

As he stands there, Ellis places a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Look, Haz, I know this is tough, but it's been years. People change, life moves on. Maybe it's time for both of you to see where you stand now."

Harry knows she's right, but the uncertainty gnaws at him. The thought of facing you after all this time, not knowing what to expect, fills him with anxiety. He's haunted by the memories of his past decisions – the day he walked away, the day he left you behind, oblivious to the superstar journey that awaited him.

His gaze remains fixed on the school's entrance, a mixture of hope and trepidation swirling within him. Deep down, he yearns for a chance to reconnect, to make amends for the pain he may have caused.

But as the minutes tick by, the fear that you've truly moved on and created a new life without him intensifies. Harry can't help but wonder if he's about to face the consequences of the choices he made long ago – choices that have left him with an overwhelming sense of longing and regret.

A sea of people surrounds him. The reunion is in full swing, and the familiar faces of former classmates and friends fill the courtyard. Laughter and chatter echo in the air, mingling with the strains of music playing softly in the background.

Groups of friends huddle together, sharing stories and reminiscing about their school days. Some are holding photographs, while others exchange yearbooks, a tangible link to their shared past.

Brightly lit string lights and decorations adorn the outdoor area, casting a warm and inviting glow over the gathering. Tables are set up with snacks and drinks, a makeshift bar where people gather to toast to old memories and new beginnings.

A live band plays a familiar tune, setting a nostalgic backdrop for the evening. Couples dance under the moonlit sky, their movements graceful and sentimental, lost in their own world of memories.

Ellis, sensing Harry's inner turmoil, gently asks, "Haz, should we go inside?"

He looks at her, his thoughts still heavy, and nods in agreement. With a deep breath, he reaches for the masquerade mask resting beside him and places it over his face. It's like a protective shield, concealing his emotions as he prepares to face the unknown.

Harry then links his arm with Ellis, who offers him a reassuring smile, and together, they enter the building. The vibrant sounds of the reunion wash over them as they step into the bustling venue, ready to confront the past and whatever it may hold.

The walk to the hall feels endless, each step stretching into an eternity. Harry's heart races in his chest, the rhythm of his breath quickening as his anticipation grows. He can feel a lump forming in his throat, threatening to choke him, but he refuses to let it deter him.

The closer he gets to the entrance, the more he becomes aware of the pounding in his chest, the deafening thud of every heartbeat echoing in his ears. His hands tremble slightly, and he can't shake the unease that courses through his veins.

As he finally steps inside the hall, he's met with a sudden hush that washes over the room like a wave. It feels as though time itself has slowed, and every eye in the room turns toward him. The weight of their collective gaze bears down on him, a silent judgement that's impossible to ignore.

He can sense the curiosity, the recognition in their faces as they try to place him in their memories. It's as if he's stepped into a world that he both longed for and feared, a world that has continued without him.

Harry takes a deep breath, summoning every ounce of courage he has left. The room seems to spin around him, and he wonders if he's made a colossal mistake.

You find yourself standing near the drinks table, a masquerade mask adorning your face, and Jamie by your side. Surprisingly, you're starting to actually enjoy yourself, despite your initial reluctance. The soft music in the background and the lively chatter of old friends create a pleasant ambiance.

You and Jamie are engaged in a friendly conversation, reminiscing about the past. You share a laugh as you recount the time you tried to get out of gym class by telling the teacher you had a sore throat.

"Remember that time I told the gym teacher I had a sore throat, and he said I didn't need my voice to play sports?" You chuckle, shaking your head at the memory.

Jamie grins and nods, "Oh, I remember. Classic move, but it didn't work out too well for you, did it?"

You laugh, taking a sip of your drink. "No, it didn't. Ended up running laps instead."

Amid the lighthearted conversation with Jamie, the hall suddenly falls into a profound silence, prompting you to turn your head and see what has captured everyone's attention. It's as if time stands still in that moment, and your eyes meet a sight that you never expected.

There, bathed in the soft, romantic glow of the hall's lighting, stands your ex-boyfriend, your one true love – Harry Styles.

He's dressed impeccably in a green suit, a masquerade mask adorning his face. The mask conceals his emotions, but his presence is unmistakable, sending a ripple through the room.

Of course the two of you were matching.

You were a vision of elegance in your light grey prom dress. The dress flowed gracefully as you descended the stairs, every step feeling like a small journey towards an unforgettable night.

The anticipation was palpable as you made your way down. You knew it was a night that marked a new chapter, a night of celebration and hope. Your heart was a mixture of excitement and nervousness, a beautiful cocktail of emotions that filled you to the brim.

And then you saw him. Harry, standing at the bottom of the stairs in a perfectly matching light grey suit. Time seemed to slow down as you took in the sight of him, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of joy at the coincidence.

It was as if the universe had conspired to ensure that you and Harry were in perfect harmony. Matching in not just attire but in your hearts as well. The smile that adorned his face when he saw you was a sight to behold, and your heart swelled with affection.

Lydia, your mother, couldn't resist commenting on the adorable match. Her eyes twinkled with amusement as she said, "Well, don't you two look adorable, matching in grey? It's like you were made for each other."

Harry's grin only grew wider as he extended his arm towards you, ready to escort you to the grand event.

"I guess we were," he replied, his voice filled with warmth and love.

As you took his arm, you shared a knowing look, an unspoken agreement that this night was not just about the dresses and suits, but the love that had brought you together.

Your heart leaps in your chest as memories flood back – the stolen glances in the hallways, the laughter shared in the cafeteria, the way he looked at you with that warmth in his eyes that made you feel like the most important person in the world.

You watch as he moves gracefully through the crowd, a confident stride that betrays none of the turmoil that might be lurking beneath the surface. People part to make way for him, their eyes following his every move.

As your eyes remain fixed on Harry's approaching figure, your heart races and your words catch in your throat. You turn to Jamie, your voice trembling as you confide in him, "I knew I shouldn't have come, Jamie. Seeing him… all these feelings have just rushed back, and I'm not sure I can handle being in the same room as him."

Jamie places a reassuring hand on your shoulder and offers a sympathetic smile. "Hey, it's okay. We can leave anytime you want. You don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with."

You appreciate his understanding and support, but the turmoil within you is still palpable. The mix of emotions – the longing, the memories, the unresolved feelings – swirls around you, making it difficult to think clearly.

"I appreciate that, J," you reply, your voice steadier but still tinged with uncertainty. "I just need a moment to collect myself. Maybe this is an opportunity to finally confront the past."

With a deep breath, you turn your attention back to the reunion, knowing that you have a decision to make – to stay and face what lies ahead or to leave and continue the life you've built without Harry.

Harry makes his way through the crowd, exchanging pleasantries with a few familiar faces along the way. His heart races as he moves closer to the corner of the room where Ellis stands. Once there, he doesn't waste any time and leans in to speak softly to her, "Do y’see ‘er?"

Ellis follows his gaze, scanning the room before nodding and saying, "Yeah, she's over at the bar with that guy, Jamie, from chemistry."

Harry's breath catches in his throat as he locks eyes with you for a brief moment. The connection is electric, and he can't help but feel a rush of emotions flood back.

He turns his attention back to Ellis, his voice filled with uncertainty. "Do y’think I should go over there and talk t’er?"

Ellis places a comforting hand on his shoulder, offering her advice. "Maybe give it a little time, Harry. Let things settle for a bit. You'll know when the right moment comes."

Harry nods, torn between the desire to reconnect and the fear of making things awkward.

Later in the evening, you find yourself engaged in a lively conversation with an old classmate named Roxy. The two of you are catching up on everything and anything that has happened in your lives since school.

Roxy animatedly shares stories of her career, her travels, and her recent adventures, and you reciprocate by telling her about your journey into football coaching and your beautiful daughter, Delilah.

The camaraderie and laughter flow freely as you reminisce about the antics you got up to during your school days, and you can't help but appreciate the sense of nostalgia that hangs in the air. It's moments like these that make you realize the value of rekindling old friendships and sharing the experiences that have shaped your lives.

You excuse yourself from the conversation with Roxy, telling her that you're just going to the toilet. Inside, the bathroom is a haven of solitude amidst the bustling reunion. You attend to your business, the silence offering a brief respite from the whirlwind of emotions outside.

As you step out of the bathroom and start to make your way back, lost in your thoughts, you collide with something firm and unyielding. Your heart leaps to your throat as you look up, only to be met with a pair of familiar green eyes that you've missed deeply yet haven't at all. It's the man who still owns your heart, Harry Styles.

The world seems to stop around you as you lock eyes with him, the years of separation and unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. It's an encounter that leaves you feeling both awkward and full of angst, a moment you never thought you'd have to confront, and one that could change everything.

And as you stand there, face to face with Harry, you can't help but wonder if this unexpected collision is a twist of fate, a chance to finally address the feelings that have remained unresolved for so long.

You shuffled past Harry, your heart pounding in your chest, the encounter outside the bathroom sending waves of uncertainty through you. It was as if time had reversed, and the emotions you had tried to tuck away came rushing back.

As you walked away from him, you couldn't bring yourself to look back. The weight of the past and the complexities of your emotions left you feeling conflicted and vulnerable. You knew that seeing Harry again was going to stir up old feelings, but you hadn't anticipated how intense it would be.

Harry stood there, watching you walk away, his heart heavy with disappointment. He had hoped for a warm greeting, a chance to talk and maybe find some closure, but the way you had avoided looking at him stung. It was as if he didn't even exist in your world, and that thought was more painful than he had imagined.

He let out a sigh, running a trembling hand through his hair as he tried to collect his thoughts. It was difficult for him to comprehend that you could just walk away without acknowledging him, without even a brief exchange of words. The reunion had been his chance to reconnect, to possibly mend what had been broken, but it seemed like that opportunity had slipped away.

In a mix of emotions and frustration, Harry decided to step into the men's bathroom, leaning against the sink for a moment. He tried to process the anguish he felt at your avoidance, hoping that maybe, just maybe, you might still want to talk and make sense of the unresolved feelings that lingered between you.

You hurriedly returned to the bar, your heart still racing from the encounter with Harry. The vodka you ordered was a lifeline, a familiar friend that would help you navigate the unexpected twists of the night.

The bartender, efficient and understanding, prepared your drink without a word. As he handed it to you, you offered a curt nod of gratitude and took a long, fortifying sip. The strong, bittersweet taste provided a momentary reprieve from the turmoil of emotions that had surged within you.

In the midst of your solitude at the bar, Ellis, a former classmate, approached with a soft, friendly smile. You acknowledged her with a tight-lipped expression, your eyes conveying a mixture of apprehension and fatigue. The reunion had thrust you into a whirlwind of nostalgia, and now, the complexity of your feelings threatened to overwhelm you.

Ellis, eager to bridge the gap, tried to initiate a conversation. "How have you been?" she asked, her voice gentle and empathetic.

You hesitated for a brief moment, the question prompting a whirlwind of thoughts. How could you summarize the years that had passed, the heartache, the joy, the transformation of your life, all in one sentence?

Finally, you responded, "Life's been alright." It was a carefully worded answer, a guarded response that didn't reveal the depths of emotion and experience you'd encountered.

The conversation seemed to stumble into an awkward silence, the weight of the past and the unresolved emotions hanging heavily between you. You took another sip of your vodka, the familiar warmth spreading through your body, offering a temporary refuge from the discomfort of the moment.

Ellis, perceptive and caring, couldn't help but sense the underlying bitterness in your tone. She leaned in closer, her expression filled with concern, and admitted, "I know Harry feels really guilty about leaving you."

Your response was laced with bitterness.

"Yeah, I bet he does," you sighed, the memories of the past and the heartache still very much alive in your mind.

Ellis tapped her nails lightly against the bar, deep in thought.

"Maybe you should talk to him, let him explain everything," she suggested, her words gentle yet persuasive. "You might find some closure, or who knows, even rekindle what once was."

You let out a sceptical chuckle, your eyes scanning the room, but your thoughts lingering on the man you'd tried so hard to forget.

"Why should I?" you questioned, the weight of years of unanswered questions heavy on your heart.

Ellis's voice was soothing and earnest as she continued, "Because, deep down, I know for a fact that the two of you still have feelings for each other. Sometimes, facing the past is the only way to move forward."

The idea of confronting Harry and revisiting the emotions you'd buried felt both daunting and enticing.

You were seated at your desk in math class. The room was filled with the usual chatter, but your focus was on something entirely different. Your crush, seated a few rows ahead, had a way of capturing your attention.

Every time you glanced in his direction, you seemed to catch his gaze, and your heart fluttered. You felt a rush of excitement mixed with a tinge of nervousness. Math class was suddenly a lot more interesting.

Beside you sat Ellis, who happened to be your crush's best friend. She observed your interactions with a knowing smile and a mischievous glint in her eyes. She leaned over and whispered, "You know, I don't get why the two of you just don't admit your feelings."

You blushed, surprised by her comment.

"What? I don't even think he likes me like that," you admitted, trying to downplay your infatuation.

Ellis shook her head with a chuckle. "Trust me, he does. I've seen the way he looks at you when you're not looking. You're both just too stubborn to admit it."

You finished the last of your vodka just as the DJ's voice filled the air, announcing the start of the slow dance. The music shifted into a gentle melody, setting a romantic ambiance that enveloped the room.

As you looked around, you noticed the eager faces of the reunion attendees, everyone seeking out a partner for the dance. Friends and acquaintances paired up, swaying to the music, but you couldn't help but notice that no one approached Harry. It was as if they were all a bit intimidated by his presence, the weight of his fame making him an enigma to most.

Harry stood in the corner, a lone figure amidst the couples on the dance floor. There was a vulnerability in his expression that was rarely seen, a hint of longing that was both endearing and bittersweet. It was clear that he was just as much a part of the reunion as anyone else, yet he remained untouched, like a distant star in the night sky.

With a deep sigh and a final adjustment of your clammy hands against your dress, you made a resolute decision. The pull toward Harry was undeniable, and you couldn't ignore the feeling any longer. It was time to face what had been left unresolved for far too long.

You began to navigate the room, and at first, he remained oblivious to your approach. It wasn't until you stopped right in front of him that he looked up, a bewildered expression in his eyes. In his gaze, you sensed surprise, almost disbelief, as if he had convinced himself that you didn't want to be near him.

You held your hand out, a nervous smile tugging at the corners of your lips, and said, "Want to be my dance partner? I think it's time we talked."

The words hung in the air, laden with unspoken emotions and the weight of the past. Harry's surprise slowly gave way to a flicker of hope, his eyes meeting yours as he contemplated your offer.

You took Harry's hand and gently guided him to the dance floor, the anticipation and uncertainty palpable in the air. As the music started to play, a soft, melodic tune that filled the room, you both hesitated before finally finding your place on the floor.

Hesitantly, you wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingertips grazing the soft hairs at the nape. Harry reciprocated by placing his hands on your waist, his touch light and tentative. The proximity felt both foreign and familiar, and you started swaying to the music, finding a rhythm that was uniquely your own.

The silence between you was awkward, filled with words left unsaid, emotions unexpressed. It was as if the weight of the years apart, the unanswered questions, and the unspoken feelings had manifested in this dance.

You couldn't help but steal glances at each other, each fleeting look revealing a complex mix of emotions—nostalgia, longing, and a hint of uncertainty.

The two of you swayed to the music in the awkward embrace of the slow dance, caught in a moment that had been a decade in the making. As the silence grew more uncomfortable, Harry finally broke it, his voice carrying the weight of their shared history.

"How have you been?" he asked, his eyes locked onto yours, searching for a glimpse of the girl he used to know.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how much to reveal.

"Life's been fine," you replied, the words feeling both superficial and loaded with unspoken complexities.

Feeling the tension in the air, you decided to shift the focus.

"And how's it living the life of a rockstar?" you asked, trying to break through the awkwardness. It was a loaded question, but one that seemed safe enough.

Harry's expression tightened, as if he were choosing his words carefully. "S’a lot. Busy, y’know. But s’what I've always wanted."

As you pressed Harry for answers, the weight of the past seemed to hang in the air.

"Why did you leave, Harry?" you asked, your voice filled with a mix of curiosity and pain. "You didn't say anything. You just disappeared."

Harry sighed, and as he met your gaze, his eyes held a hint of regret.

"M’didn't want t’hurt ye’," he confessed, his voice low and sincere.

The words hit you with a mix of emotions.

"You didn't want to hurt me?" you repeated, the realisation sinking in.

Just as he seemed about to elaborate, your phone rang, displaying Levi's name on the screen.

The phone call from Levi seemed to have come at an inopportune moment, breaking the fragile conversation between you and Harry. With a sigh, you held up a finger as if to say, "I need to take this." You turned and walked away from the slow dance, your steps guided by the beckoning ring of your phone.

As you distanced yourself from Harry and the dance floor, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of relief and disappointment. The unanswered questions and unspoken feelings lingered between you, a weight you had carried for far too long.

In the crowd, Harry caught Jamie's eyes, and their silent exchange was filled with unspoken understanding. Jamie nodded in the direction you had left, mouthing the words,

"Go after her." The silent encouragement was a reminder that some things were worth pursuing, even after a decade of silence and distance.

As you stepped outside the venue to take the call, your heart raced with concern. You quickly answered the phone, bringing it up to your ear, and without preamble, you asked, "Is everything okay with Delilah?"

Levi's voice came through the line, reassuring but tinged with understanding. "Yeah, she's fine. She woke up just now and started crying because she didn't get to speak to you before bed."

A sigh of relief escaped your lips, but you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. "I'm so sorry, Levi. Put her on the phone. I need to talk to her."

The phone was passed to Delilah, and her voice, small and tearful, reached your ear. "Mummy?"

Your heart ached as you replied, "Hey, sweetheart. I'm here. I'm sorry I missed our bedtime chat. I love you so much."

Delilah's voice was still laced with sleepiness and a touch of uncertainty. "Love you too, Mummy. When are you coming back?"

You glanced back at the venue, where the reunion was still in full swing, and then back to the dark knight beyond. The choice you were about to make felt significant, not just for yourself but for your daughter as well. "I'll be back soon, baby. I promise. You be good for daddy, okay?"

As you finished your conversation with Delilah, ending with an "I love you," you hung up the phone and took a deep breath, feeling the weight of your choices bearing down on you. The brisk night air provided a welcome contrast to the warm and crowded venue behind you.

Just then, Harry walked outside, and the timing was uncanny. He caught the tail end of your call, hearing your affectionate words to whoever was on the phone. A wave of mixed emotions washed over him. He thought he had missed his chance, that you had moved on with your life and no longer needed him.

Turning around, you were startled to find Harry standing there in the shadows. His sudden appearance caught you off guard, and you let out a little jump in surprise.

Harry, concern etched across his features, asked, "S’everything alright? Y’looked panicked when y’saw y’phone."

You quickly collected yourself, offering a reassuring smile. "Yeah, everything's fine. I just needed to answer it without the loud music," you explained, hoping to quell any worries.

Harry, seemingly relieved, asked, "Was that y’boyfriend?"

With a sigh, you shook your head. "No, not my boyfriend. It was my daughter."

The silence that followed was heavy, and Harry's eyes widened in realisation.

You were sprawled out in Harry's garden, a patchwork of the evening sky painted with shades of deep blue and a tapestry of stars, twinkling like a thousand distant dreams. The soft scent of flowers and freshly mowed grass wafted through the air, blending with the comforting scent of Harry's cologne.

As you lay in his arms, cocooned in the embrace of young love, the world beyond seemed to melt away, leaving just the two of you and the vast expanse of the night. The grass cradled your bodies like a feathered mattress, a canvas for the dreams that flowed freely.

Amidst this tranquil backdrop, Harry's voice broke the tranquil silence.

"Do y’ever want t’ave kids?" he asked, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your arm. His words were like a gentle breeze, laden with curiosity and the promise of an uncertain future.

You turned your head to look at him, your eyes meeting him in the dim light. A smile graced your lips as you replied,

"Yeah, I'd love to have kids someday. Especially our kids." The words tumbled out with an ease that only young love could inspire, a declaration of your shared hopes and dreams.

Harry's heart skipped a beat, and he kissed your forehead, his warm breath mingling with the cool night air.

"Our kids," he repeated softly, his voice filled with promise and the intoxicating scent of first love. In that moment, under the canvas of a starlit sky, you both painted a picture of a future filled with shared adventures and laughter, not yet aware of the challenges and heartaches that lay ahead.

You lay there, sharing your dreams and aspirations, your hearts intertwined like the constellations above.

Harry looked at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of surprise and confusion.

"Y’ave a daughter?" he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

You nodded, the weight of the past and present pressing heavily upon you.

"Yeah," you replied, your voice thick with emotion. "She's four."

The question hung in the air, heavy and unresolved. Harry's voice broke the silence, asking, "Are y’with the dad?"

Your eyes filled with a mixture of confusion and frustration. You looked at him with a hurt expression before saying, "Is that all you care about? Whether I'm with her dad or not?"

Harry, seemingly flustered, quickly responded, "No, f’course not."

The anger and hurt simmered beneath the surface as you shook your head, the words pouring out with the force of years of unspoken resentment. "You lost the right to care about who I'm with or my life a long time ago when you up and left. You didn't even deserve to know that I had a daughter."

Harry's face contorted with regret as your words hit him like a tidal wave. The argument had grown intense, and the emotions that had been suppressed for years were now surging to the surface.

He took a step closer to you, a deep sigh escaping his lips as he finally said, "M’sorry."

Your eyes met his, but the anger still smoldered within you.

"Sorry isn't going to change anything," you retorted, your voice laced with frustration and pain.

As he began to speak, his voice wavered with raw emotion.

"M’sorry that I left ye," he admitted, his words tinged with guilt and sorrow. "But I knew f’a fact that y’wouldn't want t’live the life with a rockstar, a life where y’hardly see me."

Your confusion and worry grew as you stood on Harry's doorstep, knocking anxiously.

When Harry's mother answered the door, her expression was sombre. You immediately asked, "Where's Harry? He was supposed to meet me today."

His mother hesitated for a moment before delivering the news that would shatter your world. "Harry didn't tell you? He's left, dear. He left early this morning to head to London."

You blinked, struggling to comprehend the reality of the situation.

"But when will he be back?" you implored, your voice trembling.

His mother's gaze remained sympathetic, but her words were final. "He won't be coming back, love. He's a part of One Direction now, and their tours are about to begin."

You knew he was part of the band, you had gone to a few live shows and even looked after him after the band finished in Third, when all he wanted was you.

He never told you about a tour, about anything, although you noticed that he was on his phone quite a lot, you just thought he was playing that stupid game.

But you must have been wrong.

You couldn't believe what you were hearing, and the initial shock gave way to a growing sense of despair.

"Why didn't he tell me?" you managed to stammer out, your voice cracking as you tried to understand.

You had thought your relationship was built on trust and communication.

His mother's sympathetic gaze only deepened the emotional turmoil you were experiencing.

"I think he didn't want to hurt you," she offered gently. "This opportunity means a lot to him."

Too late for that.

Your mind raced with a million questions. How had everything changed so suddenly? What would this mean for your future together? You couldn't imagine life without Harry by your side.

"He's been practising with the band for weeks now," Harry's mother continued, "and their tours are about to begin. It's a big chance for him, and he didn't want to hold himself back."

Tears welled up in your eyes, a mixture of sorrow, confusion, and frustration. You had never expected this turn of events, and the sense of abandonment was overwhelming.

The weight of his confession hung heavy in the air. Harry continued, his gaze locked onto yours,

"T’band was just starting out, and I knew I'd be on the road, seeing y’less and less. I didn't want t’hurt ye."

The argument, once fueled by anger, seemed to transform into a tumultuous sea of emotions. Your heart ached as you listened to his words, realizing that he had walked away not out of indifference, but out of love—or what he had believed was love.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you heard Harry's confession, the raw emotion in his voice cutting through the anger and resentment that had fueled your argument. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your voice, and replied, "I didn't get to choose what life I wanted to live. I wanted to be with you, but you made that choice for me."

Harry's eyes glistened with remorse as he implored, "I wanted t’protect ye’ t’keep y’from a life that would hurt ye."

Your voice trembled as you spoke, the tears now flowing freely.

"The only life I wanted to live was one with you, but then you up and left me, our relationship," you said, your voice breaking as you confronted the years of pain that had been buried deep within.

Harry's response was a whisper of regret. "When I auditioned, y’had t’walk out halfway through because y’didn't do well in the crowd."

At this, your emotions spiraled, and you couldn't contain the rush of memories and feelings that overwhelmed you. You cried as you defended yourself and the relationship you had once cherished. "I was scared, Harry, scared of the expectations, of the distance, but I still loved you. I didn't want to let you down, but you walked out on us, on me."

The weight of all the years of heartache and misunderstandings became too much to bear, and you started to sob uncontrollably. The tears flowed freely, and your body shook with the intensity of your emotions.

Without hesitation, Harry wrapped his arms around you, drawing you close, his chest becoming a sanctuary for your broken heart. His voice, gentle and soothing, whispered into your ear, "M’so sorry, m’love. I'll spend the rest f’m’life making it up t’you."

Amidst the tears and the weight of unspoken words, your voice quivered as you finally found the strength to speak.

"Harry, you don't understand how hard it was...how hard it still is," you confessed, your words choked with emotion. "You were my everything, and you just left without even a word."

Harry's grip tightened, and his voice was filled with a deep sense of remorse. "I know, and I can't change the past, but I want t’make things right, t’be there f’ye."

You paused for a moment, looking up at him, your eyes red and swollen. "It's not just about me, Harry. I've moved on, and I have a daughter now. You just can't come back into my life like this."

His voice was filled with sincerity as he replied, "I understand. I'll do whatever it takes t’earn y’forgiveness and be a part f’y’life again."

The weight of the years hung heavy in the air, but as you held each other amidst the tears and the apologies, there was a glimmer of hope that perhaps, with time and effort, wounds could heal and a new chapter could begin.

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