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thegainingdesk · 9 months

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Momentum

It was hard at first. John thought he knew exactly what to do - he'd read enough gainer stories, followed enough fat guys on twitter for years. All it would take was the decision to dive headfirst into gaining and he'd be as big as any of them in no time at all.

Once a day, every day, he'd eat something that would add at least a thousand calories to his diet. He'd barely even notice. A tub of ice cream, a pot of double cream, a whole cake, a second dinner - all very doable, all easily passing that thousand calorie threshold. Once that got easy, he'd start upping his intake - supplementing it with gainer shakes, or trips to fast food restaurants between meals.

It turns out that your average 12 stone man isn't really built to suddenly, rapidly increase the amount of calories he's taking in. Especially when most of those excess calories were dairy. He spent most evenings clutching his flat stomach as it churned with acid. Each evening he'd vomit it all back up, or have to miss meals, or feel nauseous the next day - constant signals from his body to stop.

He actually lost six pounds that first month. Maybe gaining wasn't meant for him. He watched enviously as his mates the same age succumbed to middle aged spread as they hit their mid-thirties, lamenting how lucky he was to still have his twenty year old metabolism as they patted beer bellies they couldn't shift.

John went back to his old diet, gained back those lost six pounds, and accepted he was just always going to be the skinny one in the group. He kept up a few old habits of course - still bought some of the ice cream flavours he'd discovered for the occasionally treat, kept up cooking with butter and cream where he'd found out how much they improved certain recipes, always made sure there were a few beers in the fridge for those nights when he fancied it. Nothing mad though, nothing that would cause any weight gain, just a few treats. You've got to enjoy life, haven't you?

John looked in amazement at the scales. A stone. An actual, whole stone. 14 pounds. On his body! He started noticing things - the tiniest pinch when he buttoned up his jeans, the slightest blur of softness on his stomach. It was nothing really, nothing anyone would notice, but it was there - solid proof that he could gain weight. He'd just pushed himself too far before, he realised with a laugh. Slow and steady and all that.

All those little habits became regular. Dessert every other night, then every night. Cooking with butter and cream no matter the recipe. A couple of six packs of beer a week. Nothing too intense, not that many calories, but it all started adding up, bit by bit.

Fancy coming for an Indian? the text read.

John's fingers hovered. The answer was obvious - thanks, I've just eaten, I'll join you at the pub after if you're going. But… his fingers traced that new curve of his gut, inching slowly bigger by the month. Not enough to be visible in most clothes really, not enough to be called fat, but there, sure enough. Was he really full? He could eat, couldn't he? What's a curry and a couple of naans?

You off to the Raj? he texted back. What time?

That old familiar feeling, of a stomach overly stuffed, too much food and beer. But different this time. The pain was there. The pressure. But there was a certain enjoyment to it. A pleasure. Warm, rather than acidic; heavy, rather than sharp. And god but didn't his gut look round? He stood in profile in the mirror, holding it almost like a pregnancy announcement. How long until it was always this size, he wondered? How long until it was bigger?

A second dinner became a weekly occurrence, then spread to two times a week, three times, four. After all, he'd proven to himself he had the capacity - why not? Eventually if he hadn't had four meals a day topped off with ice cream he'd be ravenous, his stomach biting at him in retaliation for his neglect.

He crossed 200 pounds. 210. 220. Clothes were bought, grown into, outgrown, and the cycle repeated. The general increase in size that had come before gave way to true signs of fatness. Soft pockets of fat at his chest, his arse rounding out, chubby cheeks, a real, honest to god, gut. It was happening. It was really fucking happening.

His mate Sam, the largest of the group, reached over and slapped John's baby gut after he took his coat off one night at the pub. "Fucking hell mate!" he said. "Never thought I'd see you with one of these!" There were some jeers, some belly pats, some comments - "At least you're not making us look bad anymore." "Welcome to the club, mate."

John looked around as he downed half of his first pint. How much more weight until he was the biggest there? None of them were that big, really, even Sam. Just a load of ex-rugby players with some overdeveloped beer guts. Another 30 or 40 pounds maybe? 18 stone? It sounded good, didn't it? And it would take, what? Six months at his current rate? A nice place to stop for a bit, enjoy his weight and new status as the big guy of the group.

He downed the rest of his drink and went to the bar for his next. "What we eating tonight then lads?" he asked them all, thinking back to the burger and chips he'd had just before coming.

It was all a lot easier with a definite goal in mind, he thought to himself a few weeks later, as he finished a tub of ice cream and placed it down next to four empty beer bottles. The sizes of snacks crept up, until they were meals in and of themselves, and he'd find himself convincing himself he was hungry almost as soon as he'd finished eating. He started stashing snacks everywhere that he couldn't reasonably expect a meal - the passenger seat of his car became reserved for a small mound of chocolate bars, the bottom drawer of his desk at work was filled with crisps and cereal bars.

His mates fell silent as he walked up to them a few months later, the next time he saw them, and he grinned smugly as he saw that, yes, he'd definitely become the fattest there. A couple of them even looked like they'd lost weight, the stupid pricks - didn't they know how good this felt? He put his pint and packet of pork scratchings down, and maneuvered himself down into his seat.

"Jesus Christ John," Sam said softly. "Are you… I mean… Is everything okay?"

John slapped the top of his gut and beamed. "Just enjoying life mate!" he replied, laughing. He tried to listen in as the others murmured around him, doing their best to not be too obvious.

"He wasn't that big last time, was he?" "Definitely not, he was smaller than me." "What's it been, four months? Three?" "He's not ill, do you reckon?" "Must be four stone, at least?"

Okay, so he knew he'd overshot his target and weighed in at 20 stone and change that morning, and yes, how fast it had piled on had shocked even himself, but really, it was all so hot, he was hardly about to complain. In fact, he'd made the decision that 285 felt a little small, really. Why not push for 300, when he was already so close anyway? Then he'd be satisfied, he knew.

"Mate," Sam whispered to him quietly, leaning in. "You've got a little uhh…" He gestured to his face. John took a finger and wiped the corner of his mouth.

"Cheers mate," John said, licking his finger. "Just a bit of cream." He spent the night making jokes about how fat he was getting, and eventually everyone else relaxed a little, content that he at least seemed happy with his shocking weight gain. Underneath his gut, his cock was rock hard.

300 pounds, it turned out, also felt a little small. Or at least, that's what John told himself a couple of months later as he saw 316 flashing on the scales. Maybe just a little bit more - a few more pounds and then he'd stop, once and for all.

But god, did it feel hot. Eating became its own erotic experience. It wasn't merely that he couldn't cum anymore without being completely, painfully stuffed (that point had long since come and gone), he now wondered why he would want to at all. Hook-ups became as much about being fed as they were about the sex. He didn't care who they were - if they had food and were willing to feed him, he'd take them.

John's body became unrecognisable. He was far beyond mere beer belly or dad bod now, his gut was now a globe that spanned out in every direction, wrapping around into thick cushions at his back, draped in inches of fat on top of the firm ball, before cascading off, a surprisingly cold apron of flesh that was slowly threatening to cover his ever shrinking cock. His tits sagged to the side and joined up to his back fat nestled in his armpit. His face, long-since fully rounded, began to elongate, his cheeks and chins sagging into new shapes.

John panted a little as he stood naked in his bathroom, doing his best to push his gut in with one hand as he peered over the top of it to see the scale read 363. "Right," he told the walls of the bathroom. "That's it, I'm stopping there." He struggled to lean down to pick the scales up, sliding them away to the side of the cabinet before straining to stand. "I only bloody wanted to be bigger than Sam."

Food, however, still tasted as good as it had before. And every meal he tried to scale back, every snack he tried to forgo, left him ravenous - each day he'd just end up gorging on more food than he tried to cut back on.

370. 380. 390.

His body began to feel alien. Every joint began to feel crowded, flesh filling the space before he could fully bend his elbow or knee. His arms sat awkwardly by his sides, pushed out by sloping tits. Manspreading became the default, as his thighs met all the way down to his knees which themselves began to inflate out, pillowy and soft.

400. 410. 420.

The gym, he decided. If dieting was out of the question (and there was no doubt at this point that dieting was very much out of the question), he could always exercise. He drove to a nearby gym, asked about personal trainers. Put down more money than one of his mortgage payments for their premium membership for a year, as much to force himself to commit as for the actual services.

His feet ached. His knees grinded. His lungs burned. Sweat poured off of him in quantities that he didn't know people could sweat - and he considered himself to be quite the expert on sweating these days.

Fuck it, he thought to himself after the first session, his circus tent of a t-shirt practically see-through, clinging to every roll of his body, showing off each crevice and valley. It wasn't that much money, really. He could afford to wave goodbye to it, if it meant never having to do that again. What did he have such a good salary for, if not to waste it on shit he'd never use? He'd have only spent it on food anyway.

430. 440. 450.

"My weight's plateaued recently, actually," he told Sam proudly over a pint.

Sam gave an encouraging smile. "That's great mate," he said, in the same tone he'd speak to a child or elderly relative. "Really great."

"Yeah," John said, opening one of the bags of nuts on the table in front of them. "I only put on like five pounds last month."

"Fuck," Sam said quietly, his face draining of colour. "Five pounds last- John, mate, that's still over a pound a week. What are you… how quickly were you packing it on before?"

John shrugged, and pointed to the rugby match on the TV in the corner of the pub, trying to change the topic. At least Sam had put on some weight himself recently - it blunted to criticism just a little.

"I'm over twenty stone now," Sam confessed later, his breath reeking of beer as he leant in close. "I don't know how I'm going to stop," he continued, his words slurring. He leant back and pulled his t-shirt up to reveal his hairy gut beginning to fill his lap and he slapped it. "Look at this thing!" he said loudly enough that people at other tables looked over and laughed. He began to rub it in slow, wide circles, and John could see the outline of his dick growing down the inside of his trousers. He leant back in, lowered his voice once more. "It's kind of fucking hot, isn't it?" he asked, punctuating with a burp. "That's why you've gotten so fat, right? You find it hot too?"

Forty five minutes later, Sam clumsily lined up his cock with one of the folds on John's gut, and slid it inside, grunting as he did so. Both of them held a kebab in one hand, and ate them as Sam's gut and John's whole body shook and quivered with Sam's thrusts, bits of meat and salad and sauce falling down onto their bodies.

"I can't stop," Sam moaned, as his thrusts became more erratic. "I keep on trying to lose weight but I just gain more and more." He spasmed and yelled out, one hand shoving the last of the kebab into his mouth, the other gripping one of his love handles hard, his fingers sinking in to the growing ball of fat.

"That's the thing about momentum," John said as he licked the last of the sauce off his fingers. "Once you get started, it just gets harder and harder to stop."

Sam slid off of John's body and John looked down at himself, surveying his acres of flesh. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to put on just a little more weight, he thought to himself. After all, Sam needed someone to set a good example.

#weight gain #gaining fiction #gainer fiction #gainer story #weight gain story #male weight gain #wg story #weight gain fiction #momentum

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thebiryanilounge · 8 months

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The Biryani Lounge: The Best Indian Restaurant For Spice Lovers.

If you’re looking for an authentic place to enjoy a variety of Indian cuisine and spice, look no further than The Biryani Lounge. The restaurant serves a wide range of dishes that are sure to satisfy your taste buds with every bite.

Biryani: The Star Dish.

Biryani is a rice dish cooked with meat or vegetables. It is an Indian dish popular in South Asia, especially Indian and Pakistan. Biryani differs from pulao because it has more layers of flavour and spices and uses more oil than pulao.

Taste the Tandoori Magic.

Chicken Tikka

Tandoori Chicken

Murgh Malai Kebab

Zafrani Murgh Tikka

Chicken Tangdi Kebab

And more.

Tandoori dishes are traditionally served on the bone but can be ordered boneless as well. A popular choice is butter chicken, which consists of pieces of chicken cooked in a creamy tomato sauce flavoured with garam masala and topped with butter chunks.

Another favourite is a chicken curry made from boneless breast meat simmered in a spicy gravy that includes onions, tomatoes, and plenty of garlic paste; this dish may also include coconut milk for added richness.

Begin with Lip-smacking Veg and Non-Veg Starters.

We offer a delectable range of Veg and Non-Veg Starters that are perfect to kick off your meal on a high note. Here are the descriptions of our popular appetizers:

Chicken 65.

Chilli Chicken.

Pepper Chicken.

Chicken Lollipops (Dry, Wet)

Lamb Kali Mirch.

Chilli Paneer.

Gobi 65.

Cut Mirchi.

And many other delicious dishes.

Whether you’re sharing a plate with friends or enjoying a solo snack, our Veg, and Non-Veg Starters will surely delight your taste buds and get you ready for the main course.

Embrace the Fusion of Indo-Chinese Cuisine.

You can never go wrong with Indo-Chinese. It combines Indian and Chinese food that is perfect for spice lovers. Chicken Fried Rice is one of their best sellers, but if you’re looking for something different, try the Chilli Garlic Noodles or Chicken Noodles.

#indian food #indian restaurants #indian food lovers #indianrecipes #reading uk

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fellsoleander · 2 months

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obsessed with what they had going on in maurice 1987

[Image ID: a screenshot from an interview. The text reads: “On preparing for the kissing scene with Rupert Graves: "The big kissing scene at the end with Rupert and me, it happened on day three when we hardly knew each other. We went out to a meal at an Indian restaurant to talk about what we would do the next day," Wilby said. "We talked about everything but that. On the way back to the hotel, I said I think we should go for it, and Rupert said, “Yup," Wilby said. "The next day, he stuck his tongue down my throat, and that was the end of that.”” End ID.]

#maurice 1987

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crepesuzette2023 · 25 days

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Ivan Vaughan writes about John and Paul

This is just a relatively brief excerpt from Ivan Vaughan's book, which, for the most part, focuses on his life with Parkinson's disease. (From what I can tell so far, it's absolutely fascinating: far more than 'simply' a memoir, it's a reflection on illness, the mind-body connection, science, psychotropic drugs, patients' autonomy...and much more.)

But since this blog is climbing the drainpipe to the John & Paul business, and there's been some recent discussion of Mark Lewisohn's claim that John was such a bad boy Ivan's mother sent her son to a different grammar school to separate the two, I thought the following might be interesting.

And the ending of this chapter also gives some context to Paul's reaction to John's murder—another topic about which ML has interesting opinions.

This isn't to pile on ML, but more...as words from someone who was there.

(CC: @mythserene, @anotherkindofmindpod) I met John when I was three or four years old. One wet morning there was a knock at the front door. My mother opened it, and looking down, found a boy a bit older than me, smiling, but preoccupied with the effort of remembering what he had been rehearsed to say.

‘I believe a little boy lives here. I wondered if you might like to come out and play.’ He stood there in the porch, rain pouring down behind him, with a pair of slippers under his arm.

‘Come on in. What’s your name? You live round the corner don’t you?’

Next day I went around to the house where he lived with his aunt and uncle. We played with Dinky cars. I was surprised by his generosity and willingness to share his toys; he was happy even for me to take some of them home. When his Uncle George came home with some sweets John readily shared them. There was an immediate bond between us. He was older, read books, and his great intelligence and experience were apparent. I accepted his leadership but I was determined to preserve my independence. From the warm security of Aunt Mimi’s control, John accepted me into his life.

John was a member of his local library and immersed himself in books so that by the age of five he was already a fluent reader. I was still in the infant school when he started at Dovedale Road Primary School, but we played together after school and weekends. There were numerous parks, a golf course, and fields full of tangled growth and trees — just right for playing cowboys and Indians. In one barren area with large lumps of hard earth we played football and cricket. We spent hours digging all tracks to race our Dinky cars. Our most exciting game, though, was ‘fires’. We would go to a large area of waste ground and simply set fire to the straw and watch the place. I have never understood why nobody stopped us.

John’s gang comprised, besides himself, Pete Shotton, Nigel Wally and me. I was the youngest and was constantly having to prove my worth. I feel privileged to be John’s friend since he was nearly two years older. He protected me against Timmy Tarbuck and his gang on the rare occasions when I made the mistake of confronting one of them.

John and I went to different grammar schools, but I used to hear about the chaos and riots that seem to be a daily feature of his schooling. I’d rather lost touch with him when I went to university, and did not see him again until sometime after I was married. Then one day, as I was playing with my little boy Jus on the steps of our house in London, white Rolls Royce turned into the road. John jumped out followed by a woman I have not met before.

‘Hello, Ivy! This is Yoko.’ (…)

My attachment to both John and Paul ran deep and occasionally I would go to great lengths in order to see them at a moment’s notice. Maybe Paul saw our continuing friendship as a way of maintaining simple values he held dear. Jan liked Paul, though she did not see much of John. She was not the least bit mesmerized by their fame. She enjoyed eating at expensive restaurants in sampling London’s nightlife, into which Paul took us from time to time. But, should the effort to come to great, she was willing to let the relationship fade.

A month after telephoning John in New York [with the news of the Parkinson’s diagnosis; their first conversation in years], a heavy parcel was delivered. It was not until I was reading the titles of the books it contained that I realized they had been sent by John and Yoko. There was one by Arthur Janov, author of the Primal Scream, and one entitled Mind Magic. How to Get Well had on the fly-leaf a message from John that read ‘to start looking’, and The Snow Leopard had a note saying ‘to relax’. This last book gave me the greatest pleasure and I frequently re-read passages from it. Its author, Peter Matthiesen, lost his son through illness and journeyed in Nepal and in Inner Dolpo on a completely pointless journey to catch sight of a snow leopard. The peace he found travels across to the reader from each page.

John’s accompanying letter urged me, in punning language, to keep my spirits high and strongly suggested that it was up to me whether I sank or swam. I must not lose faith in myself.

Ten weeks later he was shot dead. Paul and I did not contact each other about it; in fact, we never brought it up in conversation. I hardly reacted outwardly at all. The day after John’s death, however, a colleague said that he supposed I was very upset at what it happened. I heard myself say: ‘I don’t know what I feel. I don’t know that I feel much at all’. As soon as he had gone, I instinctively made my way to a room where I knew I could be alone, and I wept profusely.

-- from Ivan-Living with Parkinson's Disease by Ivan Vaughan. 1986.

#John's warmth and sweetness come through in Ivan's memories despite the sporadic nature of their later friendship #Interesting point about Paul's constancy and the 'simple values he held dear'#The ending kills me #That's the men they were #despite the Summer of Love and stuff...#Ivan Vaughan #paul mccartney #John Lennon #(LEADER)#Tune in #fine tuning

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unabashegirl · 5 months

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Enticing 34 || Harry Styles

Summary: Harry is a young billionaire and CEO of his own company. He mostly keeps to himself, he is stern and very meticulous when it comes to business. He also likes to keep his personal life very private for the sake of his newly born son Oliver Styles. It isn't until he meets Y/N Y/L/N that everything changes. She becomes his new nanny after his previous one quits due to personal reasons. She is young, caring, and sweet. Will they ignore their feelings? Will Harry's girlfriend accept their love and leave them? Will she be able to cope with his busy agenda? What about Oliver's mother? Where is she? Who is she?

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Y/N found herself seated in the cozy confines of the Indian restaurant, the warm ambiance and enticing aromas tantalizing her senses. She glanced down at her watch, the minutes ticking away as her anticipation grew. She had arrived a bit early, eager to honor the plans she and Harry had made for their dinner date.

As her gaze flitted over the menu, a mixture of hunger and curiosity stirring within her, the entrance of the restaurant caught her attention. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw Harry walking in, his presence commanding attention even before he reached her table.

Harry's eyes scanned the room briefly before landing on her, and a genuine smile lit up his face. The sight of her sitting there, waiting for him, was a reminder of the connection they were trying to rebuild—a connection that had been tested by time, distance, and unexpected revelations.

Y/N couldn't help but admire Harry's impeccable appearance as he approached her table. His perfectly tailored suit accentuated his form, the elegance of his attire matched by the warm sincerity in his gaze.

"Y/N," Harry greeted her, his voice a mixture of warmth and fondness.

"Harry," Y/N replied, her smile mirroring his.

As he took his seat across from her, their eyes met in a silent exchange that held a hint of vulnerability. The weight of their shared history and the newfound dynamics they were navigating was palpable, but so was the desire to bridge the gap between them.

"I'm sorry I kept you waiting," Harry apologized, his expression sincere.

Y/N waved off his concern, her gaze softening. "No worries. I just got here myself."

Harry's smile deepened, a touch of relief evident in his features. "I hope you're hungry. I've heard great things about this place."

Y/N chuckled softly, her laughter a testament to their shared humor. "Starving, actually. And Indian food sounds perfect."

As they perused the menu together, an air of camaraderie settled between them—a comfortable familiarity that held the promise of eased tensions and genuine conversation. The tension that had marked their previous interactions seemed to fade in the warmth of the restaurant's ambiance.

As they engaged in light banter, the layers of complexity that had once overshadowed their connection began to peel away. Their conversations flowed with ease, and Y/N found herself laughing more freely than she had in a long time. In the space of the restaurant, they were just two individuals, connecting over shared experiences and the prospect of a future that held hope.

As the evening progressed, their connection deepened, the weight of their history giving way to a sense of rediscovery. The wounds of the past were gradually being replaced by the potential for healing and growth—a future that was as uncertain as it was promising. And as they dined together, their laughter mingled with the flavors of the food, creating a tapestry of shared memories and newfound possibilities.

Harry and Y/N's conversation continued to flow, carrying them through topics that ranged from their shared history to hopes for the future. As the evening progressed, a pivotal decision emerged—a decision that held the potential to shape the path ahead.

Harry looked down at his phone, his fingers tapping against the screen as he navigated the sensitive topic that lay between them. He took a deep breath and met Y/N's gaze, his expression earnest.

"Y/N," he began, his voice gentle yet resolute, "about the paternity test..."

Y/N's attention shifted to him, her curiosity evident. "Yes?"

Harry's gaze held hers, a mixture of seriousness and determination in his eyes. "I think we should schedule the appointment for the day after tomorrow. I want to get this over with."

Y/N nodded in understanding, the weight of his words settling between them. "I agree. It's something that needs to be addressed."

There was a pause in their conversation as Y/N a bite out of her coconut chicken green curry, her thoughts mingling with the flavors on her palate. Harry's decision to confront the issue head-on resonated with her, a testament to the complexities of their situation.

Harry's fingers danced across his phone's screen as he responded to a message from Andrew, his assistant. A sense of purpose seemed to guide his actions as he navigated the logistics of their decision.

Andrew had taken the initiative to set up the appointment with Harry's family doctor, knowing that this step was significant for both Harry and Y/N. As Harry typed out his response, his focus remained on the conversation at hand, the weight of the decision they were making still heavy in his mind.

Y/N's gaze shifted from her plate to Harry's face, her expression a mixture of understanding and curiosity. "Did you manage to set up the appointment?"

Harry nodded, a sense of accomplishment in his gaze. "Yes, Andrew's already on it. The appointment is scheduled for the day after tomorrow."

Y/N's appreciation was evident in her smile. "Thank you"

Their conversation continued, intertwining with the decision they had made.

As the evening unfolded, the air around Harry and Y/N seemed to hold a delicate balance—a balance between reconnecting, addressing their shared past, and navigating the uncharted territory that lay before them. With the paternity test scheduled, the topic of their future was bound to arise.

The aroma of their meals still hung in the air as Y/N's gaze met Harry's, curiosity evident in her eyes. "Harry, what's going to happen after the paternity test? I mean, if it confirms everything..."

Harry's expression was contemplative, his gaze steady as he met her eyes. "I've been thinking about that, Y/N. And honestly, I'd like you to move in with me—for the duration of the pregnancy."

Y/N's eyebrows shot up in surprise, a mixture of emotions flickering in her eyes. "Move in with you?"

Harry nodded, his tone sincere. "Yeah. I want to be there for every step of this journey. I want to support you through the pregnancy, and I want us to share this experience together."

There was a moment of silence, the weight of Harry's words hanging in the air between them. Y/N's mind raced as she processed his request, a complex mixture of feelings swirling within her.

"I appreciate your offer, Harry," Y/N began, her voice soft yet resolute, "but I can't accept that."

Harry's expression shifted to one of confusion, his brows furrowing slightly. "Why not? I just want to be there for you."

Y/N's gaze held a mixture of determination and vulnerability as she spoke. "I'm in the process of renting out my first apartment. And more than that, I want to continue to be independent. I know you mean well, but I can't simply move in with you. We're not together anymore."

Harry's features softened with understanding, his gaze reflecting a sense of empathy. "Y/N, I get it. I respect your need for independence. But this is about supporting each other through a crucial time."

Y/N's eyes glistened with unshed tears, her emotions on display. "Harry, how can you expect us to live together now, when we're not together as a couple anymore? It's not the same as it was".

Harry sighed, his gaze dropping to the table momentarily before meeting hers again. "You're right, Y/N. It's complicated. But my intention is just to be there for you, to share in this experience as parents."

Y/N's gaze softened, the vulnerability in her expression matching his. "I know, Harry. And I appreciate that. But we have to find a way to navigate this in a way that works for both of us. I want to continue to be independent, even amidst the pregnancy."

Harry nodded slowly, understanding her point of view.

Their conversation lingered in the air, the weight of their decisions and the complexity of their feelings forming a bridge between them—a bridge that held the potential to guide them forward, even as their paths diverged. The future was uncertain, but in their shared dialogue, they found a glimmer of understanding—a reminder that despite the challenges, they were united by the life they were bringing into the world and the journey they were embarking upon, together in a new way.

The evening had been a delicate dance of shared moments and honest conversations, woven together by the flavors of their dinner and the warmth of their connection. As they finished their meal, Harry's insistence on indulging in dessert had elicited a smile from Y/N—a momentary reprieve from the complexities that surrounded them.

With the Indian restaurant behind them, they found themselves strolling through the streets, the cool evening air a balm against the tensions that had simmered beneath the surface of their discussions. Their steps were unhurried, their conversation light as they explored the cityscape that surrounded them.

As they walked, their path led them to a baby store, its display windows showcasing an array of items meant for the tiniest members of society. Their gazes lingered on the storefront, both hesitating just outside the entrance.

Nervousness mingled with curiosity as they exchanged a glance, the unspoken fears and uncertainties hanging in the air between them like a fragile thread.

Harry's voice broke the silence, his tone soft yet tinged with vulnerability. "I never thought I'd be standing outside a baby store like this. Not even after Oliver. I sent out someone to buy everyone for him”.

Y/N's gaze remained fixed on the store's window, her emotions visible in the furrow of her brows. "Me neither." Y/N remembered that Harry wasn't there for Oliver's pregnancy. Ashley had taken that away from him. She had almost taken that away from him.

For a moment, they stood there, their shared history and the circumstances that brought them to this point weighing heavily on their shoulders. The future was uncertain, and the prospect of parenthood together had brought them to a crossroads—one that was filled with both hope and apprehension.

Harry's fingers brushed against Y/N's hand, his touch a gentle reminder of their connection. "It's okay to be scared, Y/N."

Y/N's gaze met his, vulnerability and uncertainty mirrored in her eyes. "I know. It's just...it's a lot to process."

Harry nodded, understanding the weight of her words. "It is. But no matter what happens, I'll be here for you".

As they continued to stand outside the baby store, the moments of shared silence and understanding seemed to knit their connection closer. The complexities of their situation had not faded, but the willingness to confront their fears and navigate their shared journey was a testament to their growth.

With a deep breath, Y/N turned to Harry, a mixture of emotions playing across her features. "You're right. We'll figure it out. And maybe...maybe we can step inside and take a look."

A small smile tugged at the corner of Harry's lips, his gaze holding a mixture of warmth and reassurance. "Only if you're ready, Y/N."

Together, they stepped inside the baby store—a physical manifestation of the path they were treading together. As they explored the aisles and examined the tiny garments and necessities, a sense of unity seemed to settle within them, quieting their fears and strengthening their resolve.

TAGLIST: @0oolookitsme, @happycupcakeenthusiast, @kennedywxlsh, @hsfics, @stylesbrock, @cuddlingwithharry, @sucker4angstt, @bluemoonedwings, @cherriesrae, @vornilla, @mellamolayla, @harryscurls21, @stilesissaved, @be-with-me-so-happily, @harryssattelitestomper, @jerseygirlinca, @tenaciousperfectionunknown, @lomlolivia, @stylesfever, @daphnesutton, @n0vaj3an, @breezykpop, @kathb59

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harrysmimi · 2 years

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Coffee And Pancakes

Synopsis: One where Harry visits this cafe everyday for this one person he likes (requested)

CW: mentions/slivers chronic pain pls put your mental health first and read with caution if it if something that bothers you. I wrote this because it hit home to me the most combining two requests I got.

Series Masterlist | More of my work

Harry very much liked to visit new cafes in the city everytime. Especially if they served healthy breakfast options.

This Cafe restaurant he goes to particularly caught his special interest, all because of this barista who works there. He saw her the very first day he decided to check out the place, he noticed she was wearing his a crewneck from his old solo merch instantly telling him she was a fan. She also wore a baby green baseball hat to hide the hairnet which he saw every employee wearing. His favourite was her big glasses with dainty frame she wore always.

Since then everytime he visits he liked to watch as she tries not to freak out and take each of his orders, how she stutters even though he orders the same thing everyday he goes there. He liked to talk to her, her name is YN and she works there full-time, he's gotten to know that much about her so far.

But he also remembers her mentioning how Niall once reacted to her video of singing his song on some YouTube channel a few years ago when she was talking about One Direction with her this one very beautiful day. She even suggested he does the same and his fans would love to see that.

Today he was accompanied by his friends and his sister as they were going to catch up after a long time. Gemma has been bugging him to hang out with her so he took out the day for her as his usual schedule consists of going on a walk, after a shower head to the cafe and go straight to studios. He needs to give his family some time too!

Though it made him a teeny bit upset he couldn't talk to YN. But there was always another day, unless she decided to quit her job for some reason. He also really enjoyed his day with his sister and their mum also joined them later.

......................................................................

It wasn't until the next four days Harry got to see YN again, apparently she wasn't there for work for some reason. It was a friday so he had to wait the weekend but his heart was broke again he didn't find her there on Monday either. He was again disappointed today thinking he wasn't going to see hee there and her friends didn't know when she'd be returning, he didn't ask that because that would be creepy but he over heard a few of her friends talking about her.

Did she quit her job?

He still needed a coffee so he still went the cafe and planned to directly head to studio, call Mitch and Ben early today. Just as he entered the shop he could take a few peaks at the same baby green hat he saw everyday by the coffee machines. Harry's tummy started fluttering with butterflies as he did. He ordered his usual coffe and Pancakes with extra maple syrup.

"Hey you," he heard her voice chirp as she loaded the espresso machine.

"Hey you," he couldn't help the smile which dared to take over his features, "haven't seen you here in a while, how are you?"

"I'm good, I am good," she nodded still getting on with her work, she took out almond milk from the fridge as she poured it into the metal jug and proceeded towards the frother. "How are you? I wasn't in for work for two days, graduated last Friday."

"Oh, congratulations!" he was quite amused by the new information, "what did you major in?"

"In Indian classical music, minored in music history." She seemed very proud of herself though he was quite unsure if it was the degree she was talking about or the pretty design he poured onto the latte she just made, a little swan he could make it out to be.

"Impressive." He commented earning a soft puff of giggle from her. He swore his heart broke into a million pieces then and then watching that smile and giggles of her voice.

"Just a minute." She excused herself and called out the customer who's order was just made, and proceeded to make his coffee.

Harry truly didn't know how to take the conversation ahead. He didn't wanted to ask her what her future plans are with music, it truly had him fascinated because well he's a musician himself!

"Here are your pancakes with extra maple syrup and coffee." YN gave Harry his order, "enjoy!"

"Thank you so much, love." He smiled taking the tray from her as he went to his original spot next to coffee station where she's usually doing her job. He saw she'd drawn a little smily at the end of his name on the cup, something she'd do here and there to show off her doodling skills.

The cafe was silent, there was no ruckus by angry entitled customers as he read his book and indulged his breakfast. It wasn't until a teenage couple walked in and he noticed a bit of banter going on at the cash counter.

"Come on, you drive a fucking tesla, how is one coffee going to affect you?" The young guy said, YN was stood right there with nothing but anger and disappointment on her face.

"I work here, get out Asher." YN sighed, "Ashlyn do you still want your order?"

"Yes, please." The girl nodded and paid for her order.

"I'm going to tell Mumma about." The guy warned her.

"Go on," YN rolled her eyes, "I am not giving you any free coffee, you're old enough go get a fucking job and stop being a fucking brat that you've grown to be!" She turned to the girl, "Ashlyn your order will be ready in five."

......................................................................

Now it's been almost a month to that situation but it's been on Harry's mind all this time, even though he knows It was none of his business and he's seen her deal with rude customers before but he reckoned the teen was her brother by the conversation.

YN on the other had have had enough from her family, especially her little brother. Being the second oldest of six children she has always been taken for granted. But she carried on with her work that day pushing to take care of later when she's visiting her therapist on the Friday.

Harry was sat in the cafe this morning like usual, eating away his pancakes. Promise, he doesn't eat those everyday, it's only for when his mood strikes!

"Hey Harry!" A voice called from behind catching his attention. It was his friends Kyle who he's known since school.

"Hey," Harry greeted him, "haven't seen you in a long time." They shared their usual bro-hug and sat down.

"Yeah, I've been busy lately with the restaurant we just opened." Kyle said. "Never thought you'd be the kind to go out to get breakfast, how do you like it here so far?"

"Oh, I've been coming here from last month or so." Harry smiled sheepishly not wanting to share the exact reason why he's been going there for that long, "it's quite nice in here, the staff's amazing, so is the food. You should try their muffins."

Kyle chuckled, "this is my mum's cafe, I come by to check in on stuff when she can't." He shared, "and yes the muffins are our speciality here. Grandma's recipe."

"Ah!" He smiled, finding it amusing, "no wonder why it's so good then! Gran Bunny makes the muffins."

Harry felt nostalgic. He'd go over to Kyle's whenever and his grandma would have something or other to force feed him and his friends as kids. He doubts she'd spare any of them even now that they're all grown ups pushing their thirties. Some of Harry and Kyle's would admit to online go over to the boy's house for food which he did not mind, his family loved having people over.

"Have you been to Holmes Chapel lately?" Harry asked, be hasn't been there in a long time either.

"Yeah, I was there last week to see Granny." Kyle shared and they talked, catching up. Harry kept stealing glances at YN as she went about her work as usual catching his attention here and there. "Have you got a crush on her, mate?" Kyle said catching all of Harry's attention at once.

"No," he shook his head, "why'd you say that?"

"You're literally staring at her."

"No I'm not." Harry refused to admit it to his friend who's technically also YN's boss.

"She's a nice girl, a little too young for you I'd say. But you can try asking her out if you wish." Kyle teased his friends sat in front of him, slumped on his chair poking at the last buts of pancake on his plate drenched in maple syrup.

"What do you mean too young?"

"She started working here when she was 15, Granny says, as a cashier but she stuck around its been about good six to seven years since." Kyle shared, "she's got more patience than a turtle and has out lasted many of our older employees here."

......................................................................

Harry was walking home at around eight-thirty from studio calling it a day for writing. He was frustrated with the writers block he's been trying to get over from past two weeks. Busy on his phone texting his creative director about the new single from his previous album, he bumped into someone.

"Ah!" The person hissed in pain as they stumble back on their feet.

"Oh my god, I am sorry. I wasn't looking—" he stopped seeing it was YN, he looked to his left to see he was just passing the cafe she works at. "Hey, you okay?" He enquired watching her squeeze her hand in pain. He didn't bump into her that hard, did he?

"You want me to help you with something?" He asked, concerned as she was still hissing in agony. It scared him because he didn't know what was happening, was she playing a prank on him? But he saw a sheen in her eyes before sucked in a deep breath. "Did I bump into you that hard? I'm so sorry?" He spoke again, he noticed there was keys in the keyhole of the door, she was closing up.

"Oh no, lemme see." He carefully reached for her hand to see if she's injured severely. But she wasn't.

"I, uhh, no it's okay. I'm fine." She assured him, pulling her hand hand from his.

"You sure?" He asked.

"Yeah, I'm sure." She nodded and proceeded to lock up the door. He found it adorably weird how she used her knuckles to turn the keys. "You needed coffee this late?"

"No, no I was on my way back home." He shared, "are you sure I didnt hurt you?"

"No you didn't, you're fine. I'm fine." She rushed.

"You work this late?"

"No, took up extra shifts for this month." She shared.

"Okay." He nodded, stood there awkwardly not knowing what to say. She sighed.

"Okay I'll take your leave now, have a good night, Harry." She smiled. Harry swore his heart was about to burst.

"Uhh, yeah. Good night." He nodded, trying to reciprocate the same smile without coming out as a creep. She started her little penguin-esque walk upto the side walk all bundled up in her oversized hoodie and her coat, it was getting colder. He watched her unlock a Tesla — so that douche bag wasn't wrong about it!— and was about to get in before he rushed upto her. "Hey, YN?"

"Hmm?" She turned to him, her car door between them.

"Are you free tomorrow after work?"

'Oh my god! Okay it's happening!' the inner Michael Scott started screaming inside his mind as he asked the question. But she looked at him confused.

"I don't have worked tomorrow, why?" She said canting her head a side, a smile threatening to tug on the corner of her lips.

"I, ehm, wanted to—" he stuttered feeling his throat go dry in instant, "I wanted to ask if you'd like to grab a coffee or maybe lunch?" He blurt out just before rushing to add, "If, if you wish."

YN swallowed thickly as she looked at him for a moment longer, not believing what was really happening. The guy she spent minority of her childhood and all of her teenage years obsessing over is asking her to grab a coffe with him? Is she dreaming? She contemplated how to answer him, not wanting to break his heart. No one has asked her out since she was in highschool and that too ended horribly to add to her many traumas.

"I... uhh... Harry!" She found it difficult to find words from her vocabulary, "I, I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow in the morning. It might take me whole day."

She's telling the truth okay!

The way his puppy face turned into one of upset made her heart drop to her stomach, she doesn't want to turn him down. "That's okay." He sighed, looking down at his vans toeing at the concrete pavement.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?" He lifted his head up to look at her. Soft, tiredness never left her features, a gentle crease between her brows.

"I'm not turning you down," she said, catching full and more of his attention, "if you'd like we can still go grab dinner or go the next day."

"I, ehm, yeah I'd like that." He nodded, rubbing a nervous finger under his nose, his classic move when he's nervous. "I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"Yeah." She nodded.

"This would sound stupid," he mumbled under his breath before taking a careful step closer to her, but she heard him, "can I get your number so I can text you tomorrow?"

"Sure." She smiled. He's sure he's as red as an apple as he felt heat rush upto his cheeks and find it amusing enough to smile at. He fished out his phone from his back pocket and unlocked it before he handed it to her. She took his phone with her shaky hands as she typed in her number and name. Was it that cold? She didn't seemed nervous. Maybe it's just the minor adrenaline rush keeping him warm to even notice, it's nearing October. He even sent her a smiley made of colon and end parenthesis so she knows it's him.

"Shouldn't hold you back longer it's getting late." He said taking his phone from her and checking her new contact in his phone to make sure he doesn't text the wrong number later.

"Mhmm. See you." She said with a petite wave tickling at her finger tips. He waved back and waited for her safely get in her car and drive off before he headed back home himself.

......................................................................

Harry couldn't bother to go to the cafe today, he made coffee at home today. It was pretty shitty but it was going to work and keep caffeinated him enough for the day at the studio. He felt very motivated to write today!

Though he kept picking up his phone and resting it face down back again throughout his studio session. He wanted to text YN and ask how's her doctor's visit going but that would make him appear as though he's been an obsessed creep of some sort, wouldn't it? He just can't get her off his mind there. He hoped she's doing fine even though he doesn't know her that well yet.

He felt anxious to text her but he told her he was going to. Excusing himself Harry picked up his phone and headed out for a moment. Finally clicking over her contact he saw she'd saved it with her name, plain and simple, he took that extra second to add a little sparkle emoji next to her name before he started drafting her a message. There was around quarter left for six.

- Hey you,

- how's your doctor's appointment going?

He cringed at his question. Three dots appeared on his screen indicating that she's writing a response back.

YN ✨

- Hey you,

- I'm so bored sitting here !!! 😩

- how is your day going?

He chuckled at her choice of emoji at the end of her complain.

- been in studio since morning, so I'd say I'm having an amazing day.

YN ✨

- I am soooo jealous!

- hey, it's my turn now I'll text you in a bit.

He took in a long breathe of relief that it's going to be over for her and he can take her out later. He stuffed his phone back in his pocket.

"Lads, I think we should wrap up for the day." Harry announced reentering the studio room.

"I'm staying to work on this tonight." Ben said, lifting his head up from the computer to look at him.

"Have you been seeing someone?" Sarah pointed out. She has been accompanying their writings sessions lately with Mitch. "You arrive at the studio late, you leave early. What is going on?" Even Mitch shot him his own suspicious glare from where he was sat next to Ben.

Having been put up in a spot Harry froze on his spot for a moment. He wants to keep this to himself if anything further happens for a little while, "no, I'm just hungry. I'm making pasta today, do you guys want to join?"

"Nah, I'll pass this time." Mitch waved him off before getting back to jis work with Ben. He used his cooking as excuse because no one likes when he cooks. He's agree he sucks at it, especially when it comes to pasta dishes.

"I'll see you guys tomorrow." Harry said after he'd gathered his stuff, "Sarah, bring your baby tomorrow."

"Aye!" She gave him a salute as he walked out.

Harry drove back home and hopped in shower taking his time to clean up as he's gone straight to studio after his intense run after Mitch called him up to play him a new tune. Just when he was out of shower he recieved a text from YN.

YN✨

- it's finally over! 😭

- oh, I hope you don't mind me. I've been complaining since you texted me

He chuckled. Of course he doesn't mind her complains over text. He could listen to her all day, everyday if she lets him.

- it's fine love.

- do you still want to grab dinner?

Honestly, he felt more comfortable now asking her questions. And he's really looking forward to this.

- yeah, I'll be home in thirty.

He smiled checking the time. It was half past six. He typed his message leaving her enough to get home and get ready if she wishes.

- I'll come and pick you up at 8?

- is that alright?

Harry felt so stupidly smitten that everytime those three little dots appeared on his screen his heart never fails to almost jump out of his mouth. Her message came in along with her little address.

- yeah, that gives me enough time.

He threw his phone back on his bed as he walked into his closet pushing him into the biggest turmoil of the day; what is he going to wear?!

At the end he settles on a pair if regular fit jeans and his yellowish cream Bode shirt with a tank top underneath to keep him warm. He pulled out a jacket to go with it as it's already freezing cold outside as it's nearing October end. He made sure there was no dust and dirt on the piece of clothing which has been sitting in his closet for almost a year now. He left the house making sure everything is in it's place and all the windows and doors are locked.

YN on the other hand was panicking. For starters, she was stuck in traffic on her way back home, her water heater started acting up when she went to take a shower after sitting in a hospital for entire day. Plus her chronic pain did nothing but added to one and half hour she had to get ready.

It was nearing winter which meant her arthritis was going to flare up, that meant more frequent visits to her doctor and physiotherapist. October has been truly a spooky season for her from past ten year now. She was just eleven when she had a life changing diagnosis, which her parents never bothered to look at for the longest blaming it on her introvert-ness. But now she's been living alone since she moved for college, life has been more easier on her.

Living alone came with it's own perks. No one bothered her. No one told her what she can and can not do. Living alone meant more savings, especially after she found herself lucky that her grandfather left her tuition fees in his will. She was able to buy herself a flat, it's been just a year she moved into her own home, no longer having to live with creepy roommates or crappy flats. Her brother has been very jealous of her recent purchase of her Tesla, but that was a different story. No one believed her working at a cafe got her all these things, she could careless.

Just as she was starting to put on her make-up to look tad bit presentable with her tired face with massive dark circles. She got a text from Harry saying he's waiting for her. She doesn't quite know if it's a date or he wants to hang out, but she had two options which are, go out with him bare faced or make him wait for ten more minutes.

God she hates being late!

Harry had to wait all for five minutes before he got a text from YN.

YN✨

- omg I'm so sorry!

- I need five more minutes plsss

- you can come up.

- pls

- it's very cold outside!

- I feel so badddd

He laughed at her frantic texting. He recieved a number of her flat with another row of apologies and asking him to upstairs as it's very cold outside. He took up her offer after contemplating. He took the lift up to her floor and walked down the corridor finding hers. Her door was right at the very end of the hallway. It was very calm and quiet.

Taking a deep breath he tapped on her door with his knuckles not opting to ring the bell. Still hoping he was at the right door, he was proven right when her door swung open.

"Hey you," he smiled.

"Hey, please come in." She stepped aside. "I just need five more minutes. I promise I'm not like this!"

"Hey it's okay, I'll wait for you." He chuckled. She brought him a glass of water.

"Please take a seat." She gestured at the yellow sofa in her living room, "five minutes." With that she walked into her bathroom.

YN house screamed that jt was her. Though she was still adding a few touches here and there. But what caught Harry's eye apart from bright yellow sofa with two coffee brown love seats in the living room was her little dining table for two which had an aquarium on it pushed towards the wall. He never thought she'd had a pet, let alone a fish. He pulled himself a chair as he admired the beta fish living a good life in it. He saw a little yellow sticky note with a messy writing on it which said 'His Royal Highness, King McFish the first'.

He didn't realised he let out an audible laugh reading that until his own voice rang through his ears.

"Don't laugh." He heard YN call from her bathroom, probably getting ready. She walked out all ready. "I didn't name him that."

"Who did?"

"It's my neighbours daughter, I baby sit her some times." YN shared walking to her balcony and shutting the door closed. "She named him that because she was eating McDonald's that day."

"He's a royal then, isn't he?" Harry chuckled hearing the back story still watching him swim around. And he doesn't blame the little girl, the fish was really looked royal. Black fins with a yellow body, truly calming and easy on eyes to watch it swim around.

He finally looked at YN, she was ready. Dressed in a pair of brown panta, a white over sized turtle neck sweater which looked handmade. He was blown away seeing her hair which would usually be covered by a hair net at work. She'd decided to braid her long hair leaving it draped up front over her rught shoulder, her curtain bangs styled perfectly. He noticed she had even put on just a tad bit of makeup.

"I like your jumper." He commented watching walk upto the table.

"Oh!" She sounded, looking down at her jumper running smoothing sweater paw over the front, "thank you. I made it."

"I thought so." He smirked proud of his little judgement. "Are we ready to go?"

"Uh-huh," she nodded, grabbed her coat hanging on the vacant chair, slipped her phone and a chapstick into a pocket. All the while Harry waited patiently for her as she slipped on her shoes before they headed out. Like a gentleman he is, he got the door for her. He was quite liking her taking her time, it only meant he got more time himself to spend with her that way. Though he was infatuated by her pet fish for a moment there.

"Are you sure I didn't hurt you last night?" He enquired as he drove them to his favorites Italian diner, watching her squeeze her hands. Maybe he was reaching and she was just nervous.

"No, you didn't." She turned to look at him wanting to say something further but shut her mouth.

She didn't wanted to tell him her medical history there. It wasn't his fault that her body turns more fragile during colder months, it was a tiny accident. And that was her nervous tick. She's going out on dinner with Harry after all!

This was her first date (if it was because he didn't specify it when he asked her) after that shitty prom date she had, when her girlfriend ditched her last minute to go with the football team captain instead. She wasn't all that heartbroken because they were dating merely two months before. YN had best time regardless with her two best friends.

"Is this a date?" She wondered.

"Of course it is. Do you still want it to be?" Harry spoke taking her by complete surprise.

"Did I said that out loud?" YN gasped covering her mouth in disbelief. She knew it she is going to fuck it up!

"I can read minds." He shrugged glancing at her occasionally as he drove, "you were thinking way too loud."

YN just shook her head sheepishly, feeling her cheeks heat up and heart basically jumping in her ears. Harry had a good laugh teasing her there.

God, he looks even prettier in person!

She couldn't believe she's going on a date. Let alone with Harry. This was something she was sure she would be telling her grandkids in future for sure.

......................................................................

Harry pulled a chair for YN before he took a seat himself. They were immediately greeted by the waiter with a menu card. She noticed it had all kinds of beverages on it, especially majority of alcoholic ones. It was a bummer she doesn't drink as alcohol clashes with her medications. She can't even drink more than half a cup of coffee a day because of that.

"Have you decided?" Harry asked.

"I, uh, I don't drink so I'll stick to water." She shared.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't ask." Harry said.

"It's okay, you didn't know."

They were handed the menu card with starters and main course. She didn't know if they were going for both so she picked both not wanting to embarrass herself more in front of Harry. She used up the rest of her time to gather her courage to talk to the waiter.

Don't get her wrong, she works in the same field but she doesn't like to go out to eat for this exact reason. It gives her major anxiety and thanks to her mither who'd forced her to take French and Italian in school that she knew how to pronounce these dishes.

"Are we ready with your order for starters, ma'am?" The waiter asked her first out of both of them, great!

She glanced at Harry once before looking down at her menu picking first thing she saw in front of her having long forgotten what she actually picked, "I'll have, uh, a Caprese Salad, please."

Now when has be eaten a salad in her whole life?

Sure her friend Alex made her and their other friend Brielle the same salad, and she picked only the cheese in it. This was going to be way more embarrassing. Harry ordered some type of soup.

"How did your doctor's appointment go, everything alright?" Harry enquired.

"Mhmm," she nodded, "just a routine check up. I, ehm, have arthritis so I tend to get more... I don't know to put this— sick... during colder months." She finally shared.

Harry felt even more bad now, he definitely did not bump into her that hard but she's already in pain, even that small bump causes her to wince in complete agony, no wonder why her hands were shaky last night. It took him long to put two and two together then and there.

"I'm sorry, love, did it hurt bad?" He felt guilt build up in his gut.

"No, Harry," she rushed, "I told you it's okay. You didn't know." She cooed, reaching for his hand over the table.

"You sure?"

"Yes, I am sure!" She assured him.

"Okay." He nodded.

"You're writing new music you said?" She asked, curious.

"Mhmm." He nodded, "quite a hassle actually. Been going through a massive creative block."

"Awh!" She cooed again.

"Enough about me, you tell me now, what made you get a degree in Music?" He asked.

"Who doesn't love music?" She shrugged, "I certainly do."

"Yeah?" He chuckled at her adorably enthusiasm.

"My grand dad was a teacher, he taught Indian classical music his whole life." She shared, "him and I were very close so I picked up from his hobby and passion."

"That's sweet." He commented, "do you sing?"

"Meh, you can say that I sound more like a dying horse. I'm more into just the art of it, that's why I took the music history too."

"Huh, interesting." He canted his head to aside as he said so, "tell me more about it."

The entire Harry urged her to talk about what she liked and she did with that much enthusiasm. Harry later went with simple Alfredo pasta and YN with some Gnocchi, they even ended up switching. The fight to split the bill was won by Harry as he asked her out, so it was all on him.

"Do you want to get icecream or something warm?" Harry asked as they walked out of the restaurant.

"It's very cold for Icecream." She reminded him.

"Then something warm it is," he opened the door to his car for her, "would you like some hot chocolate, it's a bit late for coffee I reckon?"

"Yeah. But it's on me." She said buckling up her seat belt.

"No, no," he warned her as he drove to the nearest Starbucks as that's the only place which would be open that late. The driveway on the passenger side, as YN ordered for two hot chocolates and paid for it the moment they reached the window. "Hey, you're making me upset!"

"Too bad, too bad my friend." She shrugged stuffing her wallet back in her coat pocket, he just chuckled giving up arguing with her already. He drove to the next window and finally parked in the car park.

Taking in a long breathe, he reflected on his day real quick. Or his evening you can say. He liked his time spent with her like he expected he would. He longed to hear her talk more about literally anything, than hear her calling out people come pick up their orders at the cafe. He wanted to do this again with her. Go out or hang out with her.

"I had a really good time with you, Harry." She shared, leaning back on her seat comfortably.

"Yeah?" He turned his head to look at her, "I did too."

"I know I shouldn't say this, but this doesn't feel real that I went on a date with you!" She shared hesitantly.

"Well, to put you at ease my love, I'm a narcissist so I don't mind that." He chuckled, she scoffed jokingly at his comment. She had much more to say much it can wait for some other time which is not their first date. They sat there in silence, a comfortable one might we add sipping on their hot chocolates.

"Don't make it awkward, say something." She spoke after a while.

"It's not awkward." Harry shrugged. "Is there anything to talk about?" He wondered.

"Not really." She looked at time on her watch, "I've got work tomorrow, I think we should call it a night."

"Mhmm," he sighed sadly, pulling out of the car park, he started driving back to her place.

The drive back to her place was awfully short for his liking. He stopped by her building, and got out with her.

"Thank you for going out with me." He said, "hope we could do this some time again?"

"Yeah," she smiled sheepishly. "We could do that."

"We'll plan that out soon then, yeah?" He carefully reached for her, to his surprise she slipped her hand right in his. Her felt cold against his.

"Mhmm." She nodded, "hug?" Without a word uttered Harry wrapped her in his arms, in a warm embrace making sure to be extra delicate with her. She draped her own around his shoulders. "Text me when you get back, okay?"

"I will." He nodded, with a last gentle squeeze he let her go.

"Good night." She said, gently slipping her hand from him.

"Good night, love." He waved at her as he walked back into her building.

Sighing he got back into his car, drove home with a possible second date.

......................................................................

N O T E:

1) Please do leave a comment about how you like this one.

2) Reminder that my requests are open atm.

3) it really calmed me writing this one. Hehe! The way of self validations I find. But I hope the person aho requested this liked it too. 🥺

Thank you so much for reading!

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Tag list:

@vrittivsanghavi @buckymydarlingangel @sweetwritingfanficfriend @theroosterswife24 @sleutherclaw @melllinaa Lemme know if you want to added to the tag list

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