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oscopelabs · 3 years

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Isn’t Everything Autobiographical?: Ethan Hawke In Nine Films And A Novel by Marya Gates

When asked during his first ever on-camera interview if he’d like to continue acting, a young Ethan Hawke replied, “I don’t know if it’s going to be there, but I’d like to do it.” He then gives a guileless shrug of relief as the interview ends, wiping imaginary sweat off his brow. The simultaneous fusion of his nervous energy and poised body language will be familiar to those who’ve seen later interviews with the actor. The practicality and wisdom he exudes at such a young age would prove to be a through-line of his nearly 40-year career. In an interview many decades later, he told Ideas Tap that many children get into acting because they’re seeking attention, but those who find their calling in the craft discover that a “desire to communicate and to share and to be a part of something bigger than yourself takes over, a certain craftsmanship—and that will bring you a lot of pleasure.”

Through Hawke’s dedication to his craft, we’ve also seen his maturation as a person unfold on screen. Though none of his roles are traditionally what we think of when we think of autobiography, many of Hawke’s roles, as well as his work as a writer, suggest a sort of fictional autobiographical lineage. While these highlights in his career are not strictly autofiction, one can trace Hawke’s Künstlerromanesque trajectory from his childhood ambitions to his life now as a man dedicated to art, not greatness.

Hawke’s first two films, Joe Dante’s sci-fi fantasy Explorers with River Phoenix and Peter Weir’s Dead Poets Society with Robin Williams, set the tone for a diverse filmography filled with popcorn fare and indie cinema in equal measure, but they also served as touchstones in his development as person drawn to self-expression through art. In an interview with Rolling Stone’s David Fear, Hawke spoke about the impact of these two films on him as an actor. When River Phoenix, his friend and co-star in Explorers, had his life cut short by a drug overdose, it hit Hawke personally. He saw from the inside what Hollywood was capable of doing to young people with talent. Hawke never attempted to break out, to become a star. He did the work he loved and kept the wild Hollywood lifestyle mostly at arm’s length.

Like any good film of this genre, Dead Poets Society is not just a film about characters coming of age, but a film that guides the viewer as well, if they are open to its message. Hawke’s performance as repressed schoolboy Todd in the film is mostly internal, all reactions and penetrating glances, rather than grandiose movements or speeches. Through his nervy body language and searching gaze, you can feel both how closed off to the world Todd is, and yet how willing he is to let change in. Hawke has said working on this film taught him that art has a real power, that it can affect people deeply. This ethos permeates many of the characters Hawke has inhabited in his career.

In Dead Poets Society, Mr. Keating (Robin Williams) tells the boys that we read and write poetry because the human race is full of passion. He insists, “poetry, beauty, romance, love—these are what we stay alive for.” Hawke gave a 2020 TEDTalk entitled Give Yourself Permission To Be Creative, in which he explored what it means to be creative, pushing viewers to ask themselves if they think human creativity matters. In response to his own question, he said “Most people don’t spend a lot of time thinking about poetry, right? They have a life to live and they’re not really that concerned with Allen Ginsberg’s poems, or anybody’s poems, until their father dies, they go to a funeral, you lose a child, somebody breaks your heart, they don’t love you anymore, and all of the sudden you’re desperate for making sense out of this life and ‘has anyone ever felt this bad before? How did they come out of this cloud?’ Or the inverse, something great. You meet somebody and your heart explodes. You love them so much, you can’t even see straight, you know, you’re dizzy. ‘Did anybody feel like this before? What is happening to me?’ And that’s when art is not a luxury. It’s actually sustenance. We need it.”

Throughout many of his roles post-Dead Poets Society, Hawke explores the nature of creativity through his embodiment of writers and musicians. Often these characters are searching for a greater purpose through art, while ultimately finding that human connection is the key. Without that human connection, their art is nothing.

We see the first germ of this attraction to portray creative people on screen with his performance as Troy Dyer in Reality Bites. As Troy Dyer, a philosophy-spouting college dropout turned grunge-band frontman in Reality Bites, Hawke was posited as a Gen-X hero. His inability to keep a job and his musician lifestyle were held in stark contrast to Ben Stiller’s yuppie TV exec Michael Grates. However in true slacker spirit, he isn’t actually committed to the art of music, often missing rehearsals, as Lelaina points out. Troy even uses his music at one point to humiliate Lelaina, dedicating a rendition of “Add It Up” by Violent Femmes to her. The lyrics add insult to injury as earlier that day he snuck out of her room after the two had sex for the first time. Troy’s lack of commitment to his music matches his inability to commit to those relationships in his life that mean the most to him.

Reality Bites is also where he first positioned himself as one of the great orators of modern cinema.” Take this early monologue, in which he outlines his beliefs to Winona Ryder’s would-be documentarian Lelaina Pierce: “There’s no point to any of this. It’s all just a random lottery of meaningless tragedy and a series of near escapes. So I take pleasure in the details. You know, a quarter-pounder with cheese, those are good, the sky about ten minutes before it starts to rain, the moment where your laughter become a cackle, and I, I sit back and I smoke my Camel Straights and I ride my own melt.”

Hawke brings the same intense gaze to this performance as he did to Dead Poets Society, as if his eyes could swallow the world whole. But where Todd’s body language was walled-off, Troy’s is loud and boisterous. He’s quick to see the faults of those around him, but also the good things the world has to offer. It’s a pretty honest depiction of how self-centered your early-20s tend to be, where riding your own melt seems like the best option. As the film progresses, Troy lets others in, saying to Lelaina, “This is all we need. A couple of smokes, a cup of coffee, and a little bit of conversation. You, me and five bucks.”

Like the character, Hawke was in his early twenties and as he would continue to philosophize through other characters, they would age along with him and so would their takes on the world. If you only engage with anyone at one phase in their life, you do a disservice to the arc of human existence. We have the ability to grow and change as we learn who we are and become less self-centered. In Hawke’s career, there’s no better example of this than his multi-film turn as Jesse in the Before Trilogy. While the creation of Jesse and Celine are credited to writer-director Richard Linklater and his writing partner Kim Krizan, much of what made it to the screen even as early as the first film were filtered through the life experiences of Hawke and his co-star Julie Delpy.

In a Q&A with Jess Walter promoting his most recent novel A Bright Ray of Darkness, Hawke said that Jesse from the Before Trilogy is like an alt-universe version of himself, and through them we can see the self-awareness and curiosity present in the early ET interview grow into the the kind of man Keating from Dead Poets Society urged his students to become.

In Before Sunrise, Hawke’s Jesse is roughly the same age as Troy in Reality Bites, and as such is still in a narcissistic phase of his life. After spending several romantic hours with Celine in Vienna, the two share their thoughts about relationships. Celine says she wants to be her own person, but that she also desperately wants to love and be loved. Jesse shares this monologue, “Sometimes I dream about being a good father and a good husband. And sometimes it feels really close. But then other times it seems silly, like it would ruin my whole life. And it’s not just a fear of commitment or that I’m incapable of caring or loving because. . . I can. It’s just that, if I’m totally honest with myself, I think I’d rather die knowing that I was really good at something. That I had excelled in some way than that I’d just been in a nice, caring relationship.”

The film ends without the audience knowing if Jesse and Celine ever see each other again. That initial shock is unfortunately now not quite as impactful if you are aware of the sequels. But I think it is an astute look at two people who meet when they are still discovering who they are. Still growing. Jesse, at least, is definitely not ready for any kind of commitment. Then of course, we find out in Before Sunset that he’s fumbled his way into marriage and fatherhood, and while he’s excelling at the latter, he’s failing at the former.

As in Reality Bites, Hawke explores the dynamics of band life again in Before Sunset, when Jesse recalls to Celine how he was in a band, but they were too obsessed with getting a deal to truly enjoy the process of making music. He says to her, “You know, it's all we talked about, it was all we thought about, getting bigger shows, and everything was just...focused on the future, all the time. And now, the band doesn't even exist anymore, right? And looking back at the... at the shows we did play, even rehearsing... You know, it was just so much fun! Now I'd be able to enjoy every minute of it.”

The filming of Before Sunset happened to coincide with the dissolution of Hawke’s first marriage. And while these films are not autobiographical, everyone involved have stated that they’ve added personal elements to their characters. They even poke fun at it in the opening scene when a journalist asks how autobiographical Jesse’s novel is. True to form, he responds with a monologue, “Well, I mean, isn’t everything autobiographical? I mean, we all see the world through our own tiny keyhole, right? I mean, I always think of Thomas Wolfe, you know. Have you ever seen that little one page note to reader in the front of Look Homeward, Angel, right? You know what I'm talking about? Anyway, he says that we are the sum of all the moments of our lives, and that, anybody who sits down to write is gonna use the clay of their own life, that you can’t avoid that.”

While Before Sunset was shot in 2003, released in 2004 and this monologue refers to the fictional book within the trilogy entitled This Time, Hawke would take this same approach more than a decade later with his novel A Bright Ray of Darkness.

In the novel, Hawke crafts a quasi-autobiographical story, using his experience in theater to work through the perspective he now has on his failed marriage to Uma Thurman. Much like Jesse in Before Sunset, Hawke is reluctant to call the book autobiographical, but the parallels to his own divorce are evident. And as Jesse paraphrased Wolfe, isn’t everything we do autobiographical? In the book, movie star William Harding has blown up his seemingly picture-perfect marriage with a pop star by having an affair while filming on location in South Africa. The book, structured in scenes and acts like a play, follows the aftermath as he navigates his impending divorce, his relationship with his small children, and his performance as Hotspur in a production of Henry IV on Broadway.

Throughout much of the novel, William looks back at the mistakes he made that led to the breakup of his marriage. He’s now in his 30s and has the clarity to see how selfish he was in his 20s. Hawke, however, was in his forties while writing the book. Through the layers of hindsight, you can feel how Hawke has processed not just the painful emotional growth spurt of his 20s, but also the way he can now mine the wisdom that comes from true reflection. Still, as steeped as the novel is in self-reflection, it does not claim to have all the answers. In fact, it offers William, as well as the readers, more questions to contemplate than it does answers.

The wisdom to know that you will never quite understand everything is broached by Hawke early in the third film in the Before Trilogy, 2013’s Before Midnight. At this point in their love story, Jesse’s marriage has ended and he and Celine are parents to twin girls. Jesse has released two more books: That Time, which recounts the events of the previous film, and Temporary Cast Members of a Long-Running But Little Seen Production of a Play Called Fleeting. Before Midnight breaks the bewitching spell of the first two films by adding more cast members and showing the friction that comes with an attempt to grow old with someone. When discussing his three books, a young man says the title of his third is too long, Jesse says it wasn’t as well loved, and an older professor friend says it’s his best book because it’s more ambitious. It seems Linklater and company already knew how the departure of this third film might be regarded by fans. But it is this very departure that shows their commitment to honestly showing the passage of time and our relationship to it.

About halfway through the film Jesse and Celine depart the Greek villa where they have been spending the summer, and we finally get a one-on-one conversation like we’re used to with these films. In one exchange, I feel they summarize the point of the entire trilogy, and possibly Hawke’s entire ethos:

Jesse: Every year, I just seem to get a little bit more humbled and more overwhelmed about all the things I’m never going to know or understand.

Celine: That’s what I keep telling you. You know nothing!

Jesse: I know, I know! I'm coming around!

[Celine and Jesse laugh.]

Celine: But not knowing is not so bad. I mean, the point is to be looking, searching. To stay hungry, right?

Throughout the series, Linklater, Delpy, and Hawke explore what they call the “transient nature of everything.” Jesse says his books are less about time and more about perception. It’s the rare person who can assess themselves or the world around them acutely in the present. For most of us, it takes time and self-reflection to come to any sort of understanding about our own nature. Before Midnight asks us to look back at the first two films with honesty, to remove the romantic lens with which they first appeared to us. It asks us to reevaluate what romance even truly is.

Hawke explores this same concept again in the 2018 romantic comedy Juliet, Naked. In this adaptation of the 2009 Nick Hornby novel, Hawke plays a washed-up singer-songwriter named Tucker Crowe. He had a big hit album, Juliet, in the early ‘90s and then disappeared into obscurity. Rose Bryne plays a woman named Annie whose longtime boyfriend Duncan is obsessed with the singer and the album, stuck on the way the bummer songs about a bad breakup make him feel. As the film begins, Annie reveals that she thinks she’s wasted 15 years of her life with this schmuck. This being a rom-com, we know that Hawke and Byrne’s characters will eventually meet-cute. What’s so revelatory about the film is its raw depiction of how hard it is for many to reassess who they really are later in life.

Duncan is stuck as the self-obsessed, self-pitying person he likely was when Annie first met him, but she reveals he was so unlike anyone else in her remote town that she looked the other way for far too long. Now it’s almost too late. By chance, she connects with Crowe and finds a different kind of man.

See, when Crowe wrote Juliet, he also was a navel-gazing twentysomething whose emotional development had not yet reached the point of being able to see both sides in a romantic entanglement. He worked through his heartbreak through art, and though it spoke to other people, he didn’t think about the woman or her feelings on the subject. In a way, Crowe’s music sounds a bit like what Reality Bites’s Troy Dyer may have written, if he ever had the drive to actually work at his music. Eventually, it’s revealed that Crowe walked away from it all when Julie, the woman who broke his heart, confronted him with their child—something he was well aware of, but from which he had been running away. Faced with the harsh reality of his actions and the ramifications they had on the world beyond his own feelings, he ran even farther away from responsibility. In telling the story to Annie, he says, “I couldn’t play any of those songs anymore, you know? After that, I just... I couldn’t play these insipid, self-pitying songs about Julie breaking my heart. You know, they were a joke. And before I know it, a couple of decades have gone by and some doctor hands me... hands me Jackson. I hold him, you know, and I look at him. And I know that this boy. . . is my last chance.”

When we first meet Crowe, he’s now dedicated his life to raising his youngest son, having at this point messed up with four previous children. The many facets of parenthood is something that shows up in Hawke’s later body of work many times, in projects as wholly different as Brooklyn’s Finest, Before Midnight, Boyhood, Maggie’s Plan, First Reformed, and even his novel A Bright Ray of Darkness. In each of these projects, decisions made by Hawke’s characters have a big impact on their children’s lives. These films explore the financial pressures of parenthood, the quirks of blended families, the impact of absent fathers, and even the tragedy of a father’s wishes acquiesced without question. Hawke’s take on parenthood is that of flawed men always striving to overcome the worst of themselves for the betterment of the next generation, often with mixed results.

Where Juliet, Naked showed a potential arc of redemption for a father gone astray, First Reformed paints a bleaker portrait. Hawke plays Pastor Toller, a man of the cloth struggling with his own faith who attempts to counsel an environmental activist whose impending fatherhood has driven him to suicidal despair. Toller himself is struggling under the weight of fatherhood, believing he sent his own son to die a needless death in a morally bankrupt war. Sharing the story, he says “My father taught at VMI. I encouraged my son to enlist. It was the family tradition. Like his father, his grandfather. Patriotic tradition. My wife was very opposed. But he enlisted against her wishes. . . . Six months later he was killed in Iraq. There was no moral justification for this conflict. My wife could not live with me after that. Who could blame her? I left the military. Reverend Jeffers at Abundant Life Church heard about my situation. They offered me a position at First Reformed. And here I am.” How do we carry the weight of actions that affect lives that are not even our own?

If Peter Weir set the father figure template in Dead Poets Society, and Paul Schrader explored the consequences of direct parental influence on their children’s lives, director Richard Linklater subverts the idea of a mentor-guide in Boyhood, showing both parents are as lost as the kid himself. When young Mason (Ellar Coltrane) asks his dad (Hawke) what’s the point of everything, his reply is “I sure as shit don’t know. Nobody does. We’re all just winging it.” As the film ends, Mason sits atop a mountain with a new friend he’s made in the dorms discussing time. She says that everyone is always talking about seize the moment—carpe diem!—but she thinks it’s the other way around. That the moments seize us. In Reality Bites, Troy gets annoyed at Lelaina’s constant need to “memorex” everything with her camcorder, yet Boyhood is a film about capturing a life over a 12-year period. The Before Trilogy checks in on Jesse and Celine every nine years. Hawke’s entire career. in fact, has captured his growth from an awkward teen to a prolific artist and devoted father, a master of his craft and philosopher at heart.

#ethan hawke #boyhood #before trilogy #before midnight #before sunset #before sunrise #reality bites #first reformed #dead poets society #a bright ray of darkness #film writing #film essay #musings #oscilloscope laboratories

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aomine-ryo · 4 years

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Please do a scenario for the GOM reacting to their figure skater gf. Thank you 💜 I love your blog btw, its nice to see that the knb fandom is still alive. My heart is patiently waiting for a season 4 huhuhu 😭

Omg i will die if there’s ever a season 4. Also this was such a cute idea and I made Kise’s one so long and tbh it’s a concept for a wholeass fic lmao. Anyways, hope you like it xx

Scenario: GOM with a figure skater s/o

Kise

You and Kise had only been dating for a few weeks so there was still so much to learn about each other. Everyday there was something new that he learned about you that made him fall in love with you more and more. Even the smallest little things about you sparked his interest. Just the other day, he had a whole moment when he found out you liked the same cereal as he did.

Of course, him finding out you did figure skating elicited a bigger reaction from him than just liking the same cereal. It was just another Tuesday for you when your school day finally approached it’s end. Just you were heading out the school gates, you spotted your boyfriend standing and waving with a big smile on his face.

“Ryouta!” you squealed as you ran into his arms. “What are you doing here?” you questioned, not used to seeing him here since he was in a different school.

“I came to surprise my lovely girlfriend and invite her on a date of course,” he replied sweetly.

“Oh,” you said, your smile faltering as your shoulders dropped in evident disappointment. “I appreciate it, but I actually have practice today.”

“Practice?” Kise furrowed his brows. “Practice for what?”

“I have figure skating practice today. I usually head to the rink after sch—“

“You figure skate?” Kise exclaimed rather loudly; you were quite sure the whole street heard him.

“Yeah I do,” you giggled at his excitement.

“Y/N-cchi, how come you never told me? Can I watch your practice?” he asked, wide-eyed.

“You really want to watch? It can get a bit boring,” you asked.

“Of course I want to watch!” he beamed as he took your hand in his. “Lead the way.”

Grabbing a snack from a grocery store on the way, the two of you headed to the rink, where your coach was waiting for you.

“Woah, you get this while place to yourself?” Kise said breathlessly when you entered the chilly arena with skates in one hand and Kise’s palm in the other.

“Sometimes other people train here too, but today seems like it’s just me,” you shrugged.

You and Kise moved to the stands so you could get your skates on before you got onto the ice. After warming up for a bit, your coach went over your usual drills before you began to rehearse your routine that you were practicing for an upcoming competition.

Meanwhile, Kise was watching you wait nothing but intrigue in his amber eyes. Even while you were just doing your exercises, he found you absolutely graceful. Needless to say, when he finally saw the routine, he was over the moon. He had to hold himself back from hooting and cheering during it in case that threw you off. He was so excited in fact, that he had moved from his seat in the stands to the area right by the rink so he could get a closer look. His eyes never left you for even a moment.

Once your practice was over, you skated over to the edge where Kise was bent over the rails. “Well, boring isn’t it?” You said to him.

“Are you kidding me? You’re mesmerising! My Y/N-cchi is so talented,” he said, stealing a quick kiss from your lips.

Caught up in the moment, you didn’t notice your coach make his way over to you two. “You must be Kise,” he said, holding his hand out for the blonde to shake.

“Yes I am. Y/N-cchi’s been talking about me, haven’t you?” Kise inferred, throwing you a cheeky grin.

“Y/N’s mentioned you a fair few times,” your coach chuckled. “It’s your first time here isn’t it?”

“Yeah it is,” Kise nodded.

“Well, Y/N seems to do much better when you’re here. You should visit more often,” your coach said, making you want to crawl in a hole out of embarrassment.

“Is that so? I’ll do that for sure,” Kise laughed. “I was thinking that I should pick up ice skating too— just casually though.”

“Really?” you asked, eyes lighting up.

“Yeah, we could do a routine together if you’re up for it. Let me get the basics down first though,” Kise suggested.

“I can give you a few pointers if you need any. If I think your routine is good enough, maybe I’ll enter you two in a competition,” your coach said.

You were excited now; Kise was a quick learner so there was no doubt that you’d be practicing with him in no time.

A few months went by and Kise was attending almost all of your practices with you. He’d gotten quite good at it too— there were still a few falls that were absolutely hilarious because he’d whine every time, but for the most part he was much better than most amateurs.

Your coach was very amused by his progress too. “A basketball player and a figure skater in one— you don’t see that often,” he’d chuckle.

Figure skating was never something Kise saw himself doing. But looking at how beautiful you looked when you skated, an eagerness was lit up in him. No matter how hard he’d practice, he knew he’d never match up to you. There was something about the way you moved so gracefully that made him feel like whatever he attempted was inferior. He wasn’t complaining though— he was doing this for fun after all. Plus getting to see you move like that was a privilege enough.

Moreover, skating with you allowed him to spend even more time with you, and that time only increased when you two got serious about your routine as partners. Neither of you were expecting to win the competition, but you were certainly having fun in the process.

Eventually the day came where you were in an official arena with Kise. Sliding onto the ice with someone was a strange feeling as someone who was used to competing individually. In a way, it was reassuring. Kise held your hand tight as you got into position in the centre of the rink.

“Ryouta, I’m actually kinda nervous,” you muttered to him.

Honey eyes looked at you softly as your hand was squeezed even tighter. “Don’t be— I’m here with you, every step of the way,” he whispered. “Besides, you can’t possibly look worse than me.”

You felt the tension ease a little as you let out a giggle. “If we go down we go down together, I guess,” you shrugged, the idea bringing you a strange comfort.

“Exactly,” Kise smiled. He looked to the side and spotted the technician giving you two a thumbs up. “You ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you replied.

Kise nodded in confirmation before letting go of your hand and getting into position. “We got this.”

Midorima

Midorima loves you; he loves everything you do. Even if you murdered someone, he’d probably still love you (though he’d probably scold you while he helps you hide the body— but let’s not get into the specifics of that). Needless to say, he absolutely adored watching you skate.

Midorima is a busy person though, so it’s hard for him to find time to watch you as much as he’d like. Every time he did get the chance though, he was absolutely mesmerised, as though he was experiencing it for the first time all over again.

He’d never forget the first time he saw you skate though. You’d just begun dating and you had a competition that you invited him to. He wanted to meet up with you before it started, but his basketball practice ran on for longer than he expected. For a moment, he thought he’d miss it all together, but after a quick train ride and a lot of running, he made it just in time for your slot.

Admittedly, Midorima was really unfamiliar with figure skating. He told himself that he’d read into it since you were a skater yourself, but he never got the chance to. He made his way into the crowded stands and found himself a seat, feeling rather out of place considering he was still in his bright orange tracksuit. He didn’t dwell on it for too long though because his attention was quickly drawn to the ice that you were gliding onto.

For a fleeting moment, his jaw dropped. You looked gorgeous. The confidence you seemed to have as you got into position was a side of you he’d never seen before. It was like a different person altogether. Your name was announced in the speakers, eliciting a cheer from the crowd following by a small chatter that snapped him out of his trance for a moment. The music began to play and the crowd died down as all eyes were on you.

Right off the bat, you moved with purpose. Blades gliding on the sleek ice with such grace as your body swayed to the music. The moment you landed your first triple axel, Midorima was sure of it— this was your element. Completely lost in your routine, Midorima’s breath was taken away. And when it finally ended with a loud cheer from the crowd, he was left amazed. When his horoscope placed Cancer in first that day, he didn’t think he’d be so lucky to see something this gorgeous, but here he was.

He quickly rushed down the stands to meet up with you the moment he pulled himself together. As you were taking your skates off, you spotted him approaching you almost immediately— I mean, how can you not notice the 6 foot tall, green-haired man?

Your face lit up in an instant as you ran over to him barefooted and leaped into his arms. “Shin! You made it!” you exclaimed in glee.

“Well, I couldn’t miss a performance that good, now could I?” he said with a soft smile as he hugged you tight.

“You liked it? It wasn’t really my best score, but it’s up there,” you said, composing yourself and pulling away from him.

“I don’t really understand the scoring system, but you were phenomenal— really. I could watch you do that all day if I could,” he said genuinely.

“I don’t think I have the stamina to be skating like that all day,” you giggled. “But thank you, it means a lot.”

After that day, Midorima did his best to free up some space in his schedule to watch you practice. Seriously, he was addicted to watching you skate. It blew his mind every time. Of course, he’d be there for every single competition, cheering you on because he was now without a doubt, your biggest fan.

Aomine

“Competition? What competition?” Aomine questioned one day as the two of you walked to school together.

“Have I not told you before? I figure skate,” you said simply.

Aomine stopped in his tracks for a moment, catching you off guard as you stopped too to see what had happened. He just stared at you with a baffled expression. “You figure skate?! That’s fucking hot! Why haven’t you told me before?” Aomine exclaimed.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Well I’m telling you now. I’m guessing you’ll be there tonight then?”

“That shouldn’t even be a question,” Aomine shook his head as he took your hand in his and continued walking. “Are you any good?” He asked.

“Well, I’m good enough to be in a competition, aren’t I?”

“True. I bet you’re great at it; you’re great at everything,” Aomine said.

“That’s not true,” you replied.

“It is.”

“So you’re saying I’m great at basketball too?”

Aomine visibly hesitated as he thought back to all the times he tried to teach you how to play. “Uh, yeah sure, let’s say that,” he lied.

“Shut up,” you laughed, playfully punching his arm.

For some reason, Aomine would not shut up about you being a figure skater for the rest of the day. You were trying to have a conversation with Momoi when he intervened, “Did you know Y/N’s a figure skater? How cool is that?”

“Yes I did know, Dai-chan. I’m guessing you told him about the competition today?” Momoi said returning her attention to you.

You nodded in response but Aomine stood there, slightly offended. “You told her but not me?”

“I just assumed you knew,” you shrugged, finding it quite cute how he was so invested in your sport.

“You shouldn’t assume I know anything,” Aomine said, making both you and Momoi roll your eyes and laugh at him.

Eventually, evening came and you were in the waiting room with your coach, with your eyes glued on the screen that broadcasted the current participant as you mentally prepared yourself for your turn, which was creeping up upon you. Meanwhile, Aomine was seated in the audience with Momoi, being as impatient as ever. “When is Y/N coming?” he yawned.

“Y/N should be up next,” Momoi informed as the song slowly reached its end.

The crowd cheered and a chatter started once again as everyone waited for the next person to take the ice. It took a few more minutes, but you finally entered the rink, skating to the center to get into position.

Almost immediately, Aomine’s jaw dropped. You looked stunning. The way your suit dazzled and clung onto your body was pure art. He swore that he fell in love with you all over again just at the sight.

The music began after a nod of confirmation from you and your skates began to roam the ice ever so smoothly. Aomine was blown away. You were nothing like the previous participants. The way you moved was so clean and purposeful. With each spin and leap, Aomine’s heart skipped a beat— you had his complete attention.

He was quite sure Momoi was talking to him, but he didn’t hear a word. For some reason, everything else around him seemed to fade out as he watched you skate, almost like he was stuck in a trance.

He was finally snapped out of it when the routine came to an end, leaving him at a loss for words as he joined the crowd in their applause.

You made your way off the ice and headed back inside towards the changing rooms, where you ran into Aomine and Momoi in the hallways. “Oh hey guys, what did you think?” You asked as you rotated your ankles nonchalantly to relieve them from the slight soreness you felt.

“You were so so good, Y/N. Dai-chan was so silent during the entire thing, I think you hypnotised him or something,” Momoi joked as she nudged Aomine’s arm playfully.

You turned your attention to your boyfriend, who was rolling his eyes at Momoi’s comment. “Well, was that performance worth all the hype you seemed to have?” you asked him.

“Of course it did. You did so well out there— not to mention the fact that you look incredible in that suit,” Aomine said, still unable to take his eyes off of you.

“Aw really?” You smiled.

“Yeah, you look fucking hot,” Aomine responded confidently.

You couldn’t help but giggle before you got on your toes to place a kiss of gratitude on his cheek, making him flustered. “Well, thank you Daiki— it means a lot.”

Murasakibara

You won’t be able to find someone that loves you more than Murasakibara does. Really, you won’t. He loves everything about you. Your smile, your looks, your mind, and even your hobbies. As someone who doesn’t really take much interest in other people, it was a brand new feeling to be absolutely smitten over you. But he was dedicated.

The two of you were still getting to know more about each other in the first few weeks of dating and the topic of sports came up. “Do you play any sports, Y/N-chin?” Murasakibara asked you during one of your video calls at night that he liked to have when he had nothing else to do.

“Yeah, I’m actually a figure skater,” you replied.

Murasakibara’s eyes lit up. “Really? That’s so cool. Do you go for practice and stuff?”

“Yeah, duh. I practice almost everyday.”

“No way. Can I come watch your next practice?” he asked.

“Sure, but I feel like you might find it boring,” you said hesitantly, knowing that you wouldn’t want to sit there for hours doing absolutely nothing but watch.

“Well, I guess I’ll find out,” Murasakibara said surely. “Do you have any videos of you skating?”

“Yeah but they’re not on my phone.”

“Send them to me, I wanna see you skate.”

You giggled. “Atsushi, you’ll see me skate at practice, can’t you wait until then?”

“No, I can’t wait. I bet you look really cute when you skate,” he said as brought another potato chip to his mouth.

“Well, you’re going to have to wait because I’m not sending you anything,” you said dismissively.

“How mean,” he pouted.

Luckily, you managed to change the topic of the conversation before he could beg of you any more. The day for your next practice came and Murasakibara was brimming with excitement as you two entered the arena.

After instructing him to sit at the stands, you took to the ice where you started with the warmups that your coach told you to do. Practice went on and Murasakibara gave you his full attention— which is an incredibly rare sight.

As he watched you stretch and leap and fall, he couldn’t help but be impressed. He certainly could never be able to do any of the things you were doing— it looked exhausting. Something about the way you moved had him captivated though. You looked like you were having fun. No matter how many times you’d fall or mess up, you always seemed passionate about it and that was something he envied ever so slightly, but at the same time he found it such a lovely sight.

You truly loved the sport, he could see it so clearly. And automatically, he had a newfound interest in it too. It wasn’t that he wanted to try figure skating himself, it was just the fact that he loved seeing you so happy that he began to enjoy the sport too.

“I’m surprised you haven’t fallen asleep yet,” you said to him jokingly once your practice came to an end.

“Well, you were just that good— you had my full interest,” Murasakibara shrugged.

“Really? I didn’t expect you’d enjoy it that much,” you said.

“I did. I might just watch all your practices from now on.”

“Sure you will,” you said sarcastically.

Little did you know, that he would actually do just that. At almost every practice, he’d be seated in the stands, eyes full of admiration as he watched you. He would often bring you little snacks that you liked so that you’d have something to eat after practice. There were times where he’d be extra tired, but he’d still make it to the rink, even though you’d tell him countless times not to feel obligated to watch. It usually ended with him falling asleep halfway through, but he never regretted it. It was always nice waking up to the happy face of the person he admired.

Akashi

Akashi was well aware that you were a figure skater before he began dating you. Of course, he’d never seen you actually figure skate, but he knew random things about almost everyone around him and being interested in you only made him want to get to know you more.

Akashi is a very supportive boyfriend to you, especially when it comes to your passions. Figure skating was a very beautiful sport in his eyes and the fact that the person he was dating was a figure skater was something he’d never get over.

Being the calculating person he is, he decided to take you ice skating on one of your first dates with him. It wasn’t a particularly busy day at the public ice rink so Akashi got quite lucky when the two of you got there and realised that the place was practically empty.

“Looks like we got the whole place to ourselves,” Akashi said as the two of you slid onto the ice, hand in hand.

“Yeah, it’s quite nice actually,” you smiled, appreciating the serenity of the place. “It’s kind of making me want to do a routine or something,” you thought out loud.

“Then do it.”

“No, we’re on a date, we should just skate together,” you shook your head.

“No, I insist. I’ve been wanting to watch you skate for a while now, and the opportunity finally came,” he said. “Besides, it’s just one routine, shouldn’t take too long, right?”

You let out a sigh as a soft smile spread across your face. “Yeah, I suppose,” you shrugged. “But don’t expect too much— I’m not in the most comfortable of clothes right now.”

Akashi chuckled. “No judgement from me. I just want to watch you skate.”

“Alright,” you smiled as you skated over to the centre of the rink.

Akashi stepped out and leaned against the rails to watch you from the sidelines, barely able to contain his excitement. There wasn’t any music playing so all you could hear was the sound of your blades against the ice, echoing throughout the arena. However, that didn’t stop Akashi from being fully immersed in your skating.

He was blown away by the way you skated, especially considering that he sprung this on you out of the blue. Every movement was precise and refined; he could tell that you’ve practiced to perfection and he was impressed. In fact, seeing you move so flawlessly had him swooning over you more than you could possibly imagine.

Eventually, you came to a halt, your breathing heavy after the spins and jumps, though you were quite satisfied now that you got it out of your system. Akashi returned to the ice with a smile on his face. “That was outstanding, Y/N,” he complimented.

“Really? You liked it?”

“Of course I did. It all seemed so professional— you really practice a lot, don’t you?” he pointed out.

“Yeah, I have been for years,” you nodded.

“Well, you’re absolutely stunning on the ice,” he said genuinely as he placed a kiss on your forehead and took your hand in his. “Shall we get back to our date now?”

“Yes, yes, of course.”

As much as Akashi would have adored to watch you practice everyday, the times often overlapped with his basketball training— though he did make it a habit to meet up with you afterwards so that he could walk you home (like the gentleman he his). Even though he was a busy person, he always attended your competitions without fail. He’d always send you a bouquet of flowers before your competitions as well, with little notes wishing you good luck and it would melt your heart every single time.

#kuroko no basket #kurokos basketball #generation of miracles #knb #kuroko no basket x reader #aomine daiki #kuroko tetsuya #akashi seijuro #murasakibara atsushi #kise ryouta #midorima shintarou

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celestialrry · 4 years

Text

a little jealousy never hurt anybody, right?

6.7k

HIIHIHI this was requested by the lovely @angelsuestyles (their ask is in my recent posts!) ALSOOOO THANK YOU FOR 222 BILLION FOLLOWERS (∩˃o˂∩)♡ (not really but 222 :0 !!! I love all of you guys!! thank you, it literally means so much to me <<<<<333333)

edit: I forgot to put this in here when I first posted but this IN NO WAY is hating on Camille at all (she's literally so hot PLS! she just inspired harry’s 2nd album so she worked for the story) and you guys shouldn’t hate on her either!!!

summary: Y/N and Harry are idiots.

warnings: cursing, mentions of alcohol and illusions to a boner ¨̮ ( I think that’s it...)

Y/N regrets quite a few things.

Like that time when she took her senior photo and didn’t realize the small bit of concealer she had blended under her eyes would flash back so much. Or when she was being introduced to a set of twins and even though she had been completely sober that night, accidentally ended up kissing the both of them, not realizing who was who (she didn’t even remember who she wanted to kiss in the first place). And of course, she regrets somehow being able to put a check in one of those super specific love-cliche boxes.

It really wasn’t her fault for falling for Harry. How could she not? Ever since he asked her to join him on his sophomore tour after she played some guitar for his album, she knew there was no way to crawl out of the hole that had just been dug. All thanks to her her friend Sarah, who introduced the two at her intimate birthday party, just months before Harry started producing and writing for Fine Line.

When an “Oh, shit! You’ll have t’show me sometime!” erupted from Harry after Sarah mentioned Y/N played guitar and even partnered with Mitch on a few projects of his own (that unfortunately, not even after Y/N’s begging, would never be released to the world), Y/N was sure that she would never end up showing Harry, and he was just being sweet. But when a few days later, Harry texted her explaining how he got her number from Sarah and asking if she could get together so he could hear her play, Y/N realized he had been serious, and well, the rest was history.

Harry had insisted she play for a track, then one became a few, then a few became practically the entire album, and soon Harry was talking about how “sick” it would be if she went on tour with them, and after arranging things with her uni and taking a leave from her job, she was ready.

Tour had no shortage of interesting moments, from the time Harry almost broke his ankle during rehearsal and tripping on the microphone wire (why he insisted it have a wire, Y/N had no idea) to Mitch getting really drunk after one show and blabbering on and on about British culture and how different it was from American culture, and YN was sure she’d never seen or heard him talk this much, but no one was complaining.

Y/N had found some sort of companionship in everyone on tour. Sarah had always been like a big sister to her, and the protective instinct really kicked in when they were in a different country, Y/N noticed. Charlotte was pretty new, just like Y/N was and they bonded quite fast over that, and their love for fashion they could never afford. Adam was more open and bubbly, and he took Y/N in like one of his own kids. She truly didn’t think being 23 was so different than everyone else being in their late 20′s and early 30′s but after being treated like a fragile puppy, she noticed that no one else felt the same as her-- she really wasn’t complaining though, it just meant she had all eyes looking out for her, and she kind of needed that to be honest.

Mitch practically became her older brother, and although he was a bit closed off and shy when they first met (which was a few weeks before Y/N met Harry) eventually he was joking around with just her, and teaching her new things on the electric guitar she hadn’t known before.

Finally, Harry. It would be an understatement to say Y/N and Harry got really close, really fast. He was always really good at making friends, but with Y/N it seemed they became great friends in a heartbeat. He opened up about almost everything, fame, missing home, his heartbreaks, his accomplishments, and everything in-between. Y/N did the same, told him how paying for uni was an absolute bitch (to which he offered to pay and she immediately turned him down), how her parent’s divorce impacted her own relationships (Harry had nodded in agreement with that), and about how being on this tour changed her life. By week 2 of tour, the two had become so close, even the fans had picked up on it just during their banter and contact during shows.

“They’re ‘shipping’ you guys,” Mitch had said, taking a sip of water backstage as everyone was gathered in the band’s dressing room. Harry was still getting dressed and ready, so it was everyone but him. “It’s quite cute, honestly.”

Y/N’s brow raised in confusion. “What- why? We act normal like we always do.” She pointed out, firm in her statement. A snort from Charlotte made Y/N turn her head to the strawberry-blonde and gape. “What? Do we- do we not act normal?” She asked, looking around at everyone, now flushing out of embarrassment. “You two act like you’re dating sometimes, love,” Sarah pointed out. “It’s nothing to worry about though, he’s just really affectionate, friends or partners, and we can tell you do too, so it’s inevitable that someone will mistake you guys for a couple.”

“Mistake who for a couple?” A familiar voice asked, and everyone’s gaze wandered over to the door where Harry had walked in with his billowing dress shirt, and dress pants for the night. “You and Y/N.” Adam said, and Y/N’s head had snapped towards him to give him a death stare, but before her eyes could burn into his skull, her attention was dragged away by an arm draping across her shoulders and the dip of the couch next to her. She turned to look at him, and he gave her a soft smiled before squeezing her shoulder with his hand. “Makes sense, s’like we’re practically married.”

“I’m waiting on a proposal.” Y/N said with a grin, and Harry smirked, pulling her in closer towards his body. “You’ll get one soon, pet, don’t worry.” The conversation had then shifted to Mitch and Sarah who were literally work-wife and husband, not yet anyways, but everyone knew he would ask her soon enough. Y/N always like this before shows, happy. Not that preforming and the adrenaline rush afterwards wasn’t enough, but everyone was always together, and she liked that a lot.

She also liked how Harry’s arm had slid down from her shoulders to her waist and how his fingers splayed across her hip, how they gently squeezed, and how his thumb mindlessly ran up down across her skin. It wasn’t an overstatement to say that stayed on her mind the entire night.

。:°ஐ

Harry was always positively buzzing after a show. His narcissistic side loved it when everyone’s attention was on him for hours at a time, screaming his name and shouting their declarations of love. He loved to be told how talented he was, how handsome he was, and how funny he was, it was safe to say he had a bit of a praise kink, if he’s being honest. But if it was even possible, he loved hearing it all from Y/N even more than the thousands of people in the crowd. He told himself many times that it was just because she cared about him, and he cared about her, and hearing praise from someone he knows and respects (not that he didn’t respect his fans) was just so much more fulfilling.

So after every show when he’d rush offstage with he rest of his band, his attention always went to Y/N, waiting for her praise, and he always got it. He, of course, complimented her back, and watching her smile was more than enough to keep him happy the rest of the night. This night had gone the same as all the others, an amazing show, running offstage, and hugs and kisses being thrown around like a beach ball at a rave. “That was awesome H, your whale seems to get better every time.” Y/N had commented, and he had attempted helplessly to keep his cheeks from flushing. “I’ve just got strong lungs, pet. Could never compare to your guitar playing though, the real star of the show. Don’t tell Mitch I said that.”

She waved off his compliment and laughed, pulling him into a soft hug with a soft kiss on the cheek that he was still thinking about when they made their way to a bar for the night. He couldn’t take it off of his mind, not even when there was a pretty blonde in front of him, her hand running flirtatiously over his arm and her smile as blinding as the sun had been earlier.

Of course she was pretty, there was no way to deny it, she just wasn’t as pretty as Y/N. No one was, not after he’d laid eyes on her and began using her beauty to determine everyone else’s attractiveness.

So when his attention from the woman in front of him fades, he’s looking around for the familiar face that he can’t enough of. He meets Y/N’s eyes and immediately her own dart back to Charlotte, biting the inside of her cheek and praying he didn’t catch her staring at him with envy.

Envy of the girl in front of him, who go to express her attraction towards Harry without hiding it, and not worrying about if he feels the same way or not, because of course he finds the girl in front of him attractive, who wouldn’t?

It’s then, that Y/N starts to pity herself, physically and romantically. The partners she’s had before always seemed way too good for her, and she had never been the one to end it. To say that destroyed her self-confidence in the long run would be an understatement.

It wasn’t like she needed a partner to make her confident, no, she was perfectly capable of doing that on her own, but for the first time in a long, long time, Harry made Y/N feel really good about herself. Good about her personality, her humor, everything, because if someone she looked up to that much, if a man like Harry Styles wants to be friends with her? She thinks it just meant she was doing everything right.

So Y/N, in short, was jealous. So jealous and wound up by Harry showing attraction towards that girl, that everyone else seemed to notice she was a bit off. “Y/N, you okay?” Mitch asked from across the booth, his thick brows twisted in concern. “Hm?” She looked up from the wooden table beneath her to see everyone, sans Harry, looking at her with the most pitiful eyes she had ever seen, and god, did she feel disgusted. Disgusted that she had fallen so hard for a man she could never have, that everyone around her noticed and felt bad for her.

“I’m fine, but I think m’gonna call it a night. I’m pretty tired after today’s show.” She said with a tight-lipped smile, hoping it would convince everyone that she was okay. Of course it didn’t though and Adam caught on. “Funny, I was about to say the same. I can’t stay up late like I used to anymore, wanna catch a taxi back?” He asked, and Y/N nodded with a real smile this time, albeit the fact it was small, because she really didn’t want to go back to the hotel alone, and Adam always knew what to say.

Sarah and Mitch slid out of the booth to let Adam out, and Y/N simply stood up on her side because she had the outside seat. Harry was supposed to sit next to her on the edge, but seeing as he went to the bar to grab everyone another round and then ended up talking to someone else, that didn’t happen. She slipped on her light beige coat and grabbed her purse, slinging it on her shoulder as Adam put on his jacket as well. When Y/N looked to the bar where she had last seen Harry, he was still standing there animately talking to the woman in front of him, dimples prominent in his rosy cheeks, and all she could do was hope he didn’t notice the two of them slip out as they made their way to the door.

Alas, Y/N could never be that lucky.

“Hey! Where are y’guys going?”

Y/N and Adam turned around at the sound of his voice and that was when Adam went in full protective mode, slinging his arm around Y/N’s shoulders and pulling her in closer. She made a note in her head to thank him immensely when they escaped this bar.

“Heading out for the night, we’re both pretty pooped.” Adam explained, eyes darting from Y/N to Harry who now stood in front of them, his own eyes darting from Y/N to Adam then back to the girl who was now avoiding eye contact at all costs.

“Oh, alright then. Are- Y/N are you okay?” He asked softly and only then did her eyes meet his own. “Yes, I’m fine. I feel like such a baby when I’m around you guys.” She joked, her lips curling into a small smile.

Adam chuckled at that and so did Harry, but Y/N could tell the curly headed one was still concerned. “Well we gotta catch a cab, so…” She trailed off, her thumb poking back to the door.

“O-okay,” Harry nodded. “Get back safe, yeah? Have a good night.” He said in parting and Y/N and Adam both nodded, wishing him the same before turning back around and pushing through the door. Harry watched the two of them leave, and his stomach bounced around in an odd way.

The cold air whipped across the duo’s faces, and and Adam rubbed Y/N’s shoulder comfortingly as he hailed a cab. They didn’t talk until they were settled in the back and Adam told the driver the destination. “Wanna tell me what’s up? Cause I’m not gonna bother you anymore when we get to the hotel.”

She smiled at him and scoffed a bit before trilling her lips, a soft noise releasing from her mouth at the movement. “Um,” She began, running her hands through her hair. “I’m pretty sure you already know.”

At her words, Adam just raised a brow at her. “What? You guys all looked at me like someone just killed my puppy back there!” She defended, raising her hands. “Okay, fine, fine. It won’t help if you keep all your emotions bottled in though, you know?”

“Yeah,” She sighed. “I know.”

After getting back up to her room, doing her nightly routine (which really was just her washing her face, brushing her teeth, and changing into the t-shirt Harry gave her a few weeks ago and her Spongebob decorated fluffy pajama shorts that she got in college as a joke but really ended up being her favorite item of clothing she owned, other than Harry’s shirt, of course) she slipped into bed and began scrolling on her phone.

Only what felt like 15 minutes later, a knock on her door broke Y/N out of the trance she was in and she sighed a bit, pulling the covers back and grumbling as she made her way to the door, annoyed at whoever was behind it-oh.

Harry looked at her as she swung the door open for him and he immediately grinned. “Hi, love.”She could never stay mad at him. “Hey, H.” She smiled at him, still a bit confused. “What’s up?” He ran a hand thorough his hair and retained eye contact with her, before speaking.

“Sleepover?”

She nodded and let him in, and immediately he went to her suitcase without a word, pulling out some her biggest sweatpants and stripping to his boxers, slipping the joggers on and keeping his shirt off. Y/N suddenly was reminded of all of Harry’s tattoos she knew none of the meanings behind.

Sleepovers were common with the two of them, and they always occurred in Harry’s suite, Y/N on the way too comfortable couch, and Harry guiltily on the bed even though she insisted she take the couch because “We can’t have your back hurting when you preform!” And he couldn’t say no when she also said “Please?” and looked at him with those soft eyes.

So now it was a bit different, being in her room, because 1, there was only one bed that they would both consequently end up sleeping on, and 2, Y/N and Harry’s feelings had both developed a bit further than friendly (although neither knew about the other’s).

She hesitantly crawled back into her bed and patted at the area right beside her, which Harry quickly traveled over to, lifting his side of the comforter and pulling it over the both of them while Y/N leaned over to the night-stand and grabbed the T.V. remote. She plopped back into the pillows and started scrolling through random channels, trying to find a decent movie for the two of them to fall asleep to.

All the while, Harry was attempting to look at the T.V. but the light was shining on her face in a way that just made her look so pretty, not that she wasn’t always pretty, but she seemed to always look the best when she was in her natural state, no makeup, no nice clothes, it was just all so domestic and the feeling overwhelmed him when he realized he wanted to be the one to see her like this every night.

Her eyes darted from the T.V. over to her right where Harry was curled up in the covers, and she could feel the burn of his eyes on her. Now that really didn’t help with her insecurities, and as she continued switching through the channels she found herself burying under the covers more and more. Soon, she landed on a stupid rom-com that she’s seen a few times before but she never really knows what it’s about because her attention gets easily dragged away from it.

She puts the remote back on the table and flips back around to be face to face with Harry, who was now looking at her with furrowed brows. “Why’re you burying yourself under the covers?” He asked with a frown, and she lulled her head away from him then back, biting the inside of her cheek. “M’just a bit cold.”

His brows raised because he knew full well it wasn’t cold at all in this room, in fact it was quite hot, but he didn’t want to deal with her lying and thinking she could get away with it, so he pulled the covers off of himself, which actually cooled him off a good amount and piled them all on top of her. “Hey!” She cried out, muffled by the fabric on top of her. “M’hot, so I figured you could have my covers.”

He heard a bit of grumbling and the covers were flung off of the bed entirely in a few seconds, Y/N sitting up and leaning on her arms breathing a bit heavy and turning to Harry with a stink in her eye. He just flashed his signature cheeky grin and she grabbed her pillow and hit him over the head before placing it back and pulling the sheets over her body.

“Ow! You fucker.”

。:°ஐ

Harry was sure about a lot of the things he did.

Like when One Direction split up, he didn’t remain in constant contact with the boys, and while it was difficult at first, they all needed a break, and it just made it so much better when they met up to hang out again. Or when him and Camille both decided it was for the best that they break up and they remain friends to this day. And of course, he was sure about bringing Y/N on tour.

She was possibly one of the best people he had ever worked with, and one of the best friends he’s ever had. He was sure about getting close with her, and he was sure about keeping her close. Only, now keeping her close meant keeping her arms length apart, because if he got any closer he wouldn’t be able to handle being with her any closer than a few little touches and hugs and cheek and forehead kisses, not when he couldn’t have her.

So it was safe to say when he opened his eyes the next morning with Y/N flung over him, her leg between his own, her arm wrapped around his chest with her face pressed into the junction of his shoulder and neck, and her warm soft breaths hitting his bare skin, making goosebumps pimple, he freaked out. 1, because friends did NOT cuddle like this, and 2, the close contact was making his chest clench and his lower abdomen heat up.

He let out a shaky breath and thanked his lucky stars Y/N was a deep sleeper, and slowly slid out from under her, ignoring how his arms were wrapped around her and his hands were touching her bare skin where her shirt (his shirt really, and that just made it about a billion times worse) had ridden up in the night. As he was pulling his torso from her body after getting his legs out, she let out a whine and her grip on his back tightened.

His heart beat wildly fast, so fast he wouldn’t be surprised if he looked down and saw it moving through his skin, and he stilled, terrified that she was awake. A few minutes went by, and she didn’t stir anymore, so after chalking her movements up to a dreaming Y/N, he moved a hand and gently took her soft hand off of his bare skin, letting out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

Finally he’s out of bed, and slipping on the clothes he wore the night before, folding the sweats he borrowed and putting them back in her suitcase. He grabs his phone off the other side table Y/N never used and reaches her door, making the terrible mistake of looking back. Y/N’s face is smushed into the pillow he put under her head, her lips sightly open as she slept and her arms now curled around the pillow Harry had used last night, and he would swear on his mum’s life that she was breathing in his scent if not for the fact that he was certain she didn’t like him the way he liked her, and he didn’t want to barter his mum’s life on something so uncertain.

His chest clenched for what felt like the billionth time this morning and even if he didn’t know it then, he had already decided that he couldn’t handle this anymore, whatever this was, and began to push the sleeping girl out of his mind and heart, in order to save himself from future heartbreak.

。:°ஐ

When Y/N woke up, her bed was empty, and she had never felt akin to a bed until that morning.

。:°ஐ

The last time Harry really spoke to Y/N was the night he slept over.

It had been a little over a month since then, and she was trying really hard not to let it get to her, but seeing as Harry interacted just fine with everyone else, and his problem seemed to be with just Y/N, she couldn’t help the nagging feeling that she had somehow scared him off.

A week after he slept over, the only times he spoke to her were for performances and work-related things, and her mind had been swarming with questions. Did she say something about him, or to him while she was sleeping? Sure, she had a dream about him, but it wasn’t anything dirty (although that had happened a few times before), they were just at a carnival and there was a ride in which they got to fly, it was quite fun. Did she cuddle him too much? Sure she could be really touchy when she’s tired, but so can Harry if his wandering hands (only in appropriate places) when they had movie nights were anything to go by.

So her questions went unanswered, and her attempts to speak with him were fruitfully ignored, whether that be he pretends he didn’t hear her the first time, or if he excuses himself before answering because he had to talk to someone about something.

Everyone else in the band noticed, and Y/N didn’t know it, but everyone at tried to talk to Harry about it at least once. Adam mentioned how Y/N and Harry seemed to have drifted apart and Harry only hummed in agreement, making it obvious he didn’t want to talk about it. Charlotte had asked Harry if he was doing okay, to which he responded “Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?” And she didn’t feel like it was her place to tell him that Y/N had come to her crying about Harry’s actions, or lack thereof, towards her and she didn’t know what was wrong. Sarah was blunt with Harry, telling him how it was obvious Y/N and him weren’t speaking and asking what had happened to which Harry shrugged it off and told her that “people grow apart”, and it wasn’t anything personal. Mitch had tried to the same, to no avail, despite being even more blunt than everyone else.

And that led them here, 15 minutes before Harry’s second, and last night in L.A. on his tour before they head to New York. He was quite looking forward to it, excited to see the few friends who couldn’t make it the night before. It was easy, going out with people after the performance, not having to think about Y/N as he drinks the night away.

He looked in the mirror in front of him, patting the invisible dust off of his pearl adorned blazer and pants, the wife-beater under his coat so thin his tattoos could be traced. Usually after he was dressed he would pop into the band’s dressing room just to shake off the nerves beforehand, but he stopped doing that after he began to push himself away from Y/N. There would be no where else to sit but next to her, and that didn’t help his overwhelming need to hold her. So instead, he made his way to the couch in his room, relaxing for the few minutes he had.

Y/N on the other hand was sitting in the dressing room with Sarah, Mitch, Charlotte, and Adam, all conversing about how ready they were, the energy in L.A. the night before had been off the charts, and they were more than excited to feel it again. All Y/N could think about, however, was that this just meant there was one more show to play, then tour would be over, and there would be no more reason to be in Harry’s band. Not when he clearly didn’t want to be friends with her anymore, and she thinks this is the worst she’s ever felt in a long, long time.

。:°ஐ

The first part of the show goes really well. Harry is hyping up the audience, and everyone is smiling. “She” was the next song they were to play after Harry stopped interacting with the audience and Y/N was excited. It was one of her favorite songs to play, and she loved just stopping and listening when Mitch did his solo. He usually did the more detailed guitar work, while Y/N worked with the backing chords.

“Alright, the next song we’ll be playing is “She”, let’s make sure not to get Mitch’s ego too high afterwards though.” Harry had laughed into the mic, walking back to the stand and clicking the mic into place. Then, it began. It was good, it really was, until Y/N noticed that Harry had faltered a bit in the chorus, and her eyes followed his own to the blonde hair in the VIP section. It was her, Camille, the muse behind this entire album. Her heart stuttered as she noticed he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She was gorgeous, prettier than all of the pictures she’s seen.

And Harry was looking only at her in the crowd. It was then, that Y/N started to go a bit haywire. He began to sing the chorus, and she guesses her fingers held the pick a bit tighter, and strummed bit harder, because after 10 seconds of playing she realized she could no longer hear his voice. Almost immediately did she soften the strumming and look up to see Harry turn to face her, confusion and anger, maybe, written all across his face. She ignores it and continues to play until the song is over. She’s not listening when the crowd cheers, but she regrets tuning in when Harry introduces the next song on the set list, how he says that it’s possibly one of his favorites, and meet’s his ex’s eyes when he starts to play Cherry.

It’s then that Y/N breaks. She keeps her eyes down, and her strumming quiet, just incase she falters (which she does about 2 times), and when her mouth moves up to sing the backing vocals she realizes that her eyes are welling up and her throat is closing in. She closes her mouth and continues to play the guitar, missing Harry’s look back at her, and the rest of the band’s attempt to conceal the fact that she had stopped singing in the middle of the verse.

The rest of the show goes on, and her tears are held back when they all wave goodbye, and when they rush offstage, and when Harry’s hand brushes her arm that she’s sure was a mistake (it wasn’t), and they continue to be held back until she bursts into the unisex restroom just a mere 20 feet away from the dressing rooms. She locks herself in a stall and sits on the closed toilet seat, shaking hands covering her face as she chokes on her sobs, knowing she would never be enough for Harry, thinking about how he want’s nothing to do with her, and how big of a mistake she made going on tour with them, because if she didn’t, then she wouldn’t have fallen in love with Harry, and she wouldn’t be feeling this way.

What feels like hours, but was actually just 15 minutes of her crying all the tears she could cry, she decided it was better to mope in her own hotel room rather than in a public place where anyone could walk in. She steps out of the stall and doesn’t bother looking in the mirror, only washes her hands, then rinses her face, patting it dry with a cheap brown paper towel. She crumples it up and tosses it in the trashcan, walking out of the restroom to see Harry outside of his dressing room, his arms wrapped around Camille in an intimate embrace.

Intruding would be a good word to describe how she felt right then, and quickly did she speed walk the other way, trying not to let any more tears fall as she opens the door to the bands dressing room to see Sarah and Mitch packing up her things. One look at her was all it took to break the dam that held her tears, and she covered her mouth with her hand, her head falling down and her other arm wrapping around her stomach, maybe it would make things better.

Sarah quickly hands Mitch Y/N’s bag that held her sweats, sweatshirt, purse, and phone she brought to the venue, and takes the girl into a much needed embrace. She cried into Sarahs chest for a bit, snotty apologies from Y/N that Sarah waved off, insisting it was okay, and that she would be okay.

After calming her down a bit and receiving a hug from Mitch, she takes her bag and walks into one of the privacy divider boxes, changing into the clothes she would wear tomorrow on the flight, and tonight to sleep in. Mitch and Sarah lead her out of the venue with all of their arms locked, and bring her to the car, the hotel, and lastly her room.

“We’re right next door, if you need anything. Are you sure you don’t want us to stay?” Sarah asked, biting her lip in anxiousness. Y/N shook her head, her puffy eyes hurting from the movement. “No, I’m gonna be okay. Thank you- um, can-can you not tell anyone? I just-”

“Of course we won’t tell anyone,” Mitch interrupts her, making sure she won’t start crying again, because if there’s something he wants least, it’s to see her cry. “We’ll see you tomorrow morning, okay?”

Y/N nods, and they all hug and part with declarations of love and goodnight’s.

。:°ஐ

Harry just arrived at the hotel after a quick late dinner with Camille at her flat, catching up and eating some really good Chinese take-out. It was always good seeing her, they weren’t super close anymore of course, she had a new boyfriend now, he was there too actually, a really fine lad that he thinks Camille deserves, but he enjoyed getting to see her with no bad-blood.

So the night was going good, other than Y/N’s weird guitar mishap and her faltering voice during the show, that he couldn’t stop thinking about.

Well, it was going good, until Mitch called him after Harry sent him a text talking about how he was back at the hotel, and told him that he was really stupid. Told Harry that Y/N seemed really hurt earlier, and how he thinks that Harry ignoring her caught up to her. Of course, Mitch knew it was partially untrue, but to remain loyal to Y/N he couldn’t tell Harry why she was so upset, and exactly how upset Y/N really was.

Upon hearing this, Harry’s mood deflated and he rushed to Y/N’s hotel room, knocking a few times with a soft “It’s me, Harry.” through the door. Y/N heard it, but there was no way in hell she would open the door for him, so she feigned sleep and hoped he wouldn’t attempt to wake her up. “Are you awake, love?” No answer. “Pet?” No answer. “Okay, well, I just wanted to talk to you, um, but we can do that tomorrow, I-um, I’m sorry.”

He left, after that, leaving her to curl up in her covers alone, tears leaking from her eyes.

The next morning was anything but fun, they were to wake up at 6 and catch the 7:30 AM flight from L.A. to New York. Of course, everyone one in the band and a few others got first class, while the rest of the crew rode on Harry’s rented private jet, to hold all the equipment that wasn’t provided at the venue.

So this meant that Y/N and Harry would have to be stuck in the same cabin of a plane together for about 5 and a half hours. Luckily they weren’t designated to sit next to each other, but Harry had other plans.

He switched tickets with a hesitant Charlotte and got the aisle seat, where Y/N would have the window seat. He got on first, and got settled in, biting his lip in nerves, he wasn’t really sure how he would be able to explain away all of his actions to her, but he knew that he had to, he didn’t want to loose Y/N.

Y/N stepped onto the plane, flashing a fake smile at the flight attendant who obviously noticed her puffy eyes and frowning face. Her eyes darted from the row number and seat letter to the ones on the top of the cabin, and when she found the matching pair of seats, there he was, in all his sweatpants-sweatshirt covered glory.

Her mouth opened to tell him she didn’t want to sit next to him, but when he looked up at her with a soft smile, all she could do was close her lips and sigh, squeezing past him to plop down in the seat with the window.

He didn’t try to speak to her, and she did the same, but he really wanted to. Wanted to ask her how she was, what she had been doing when they stopped talking (or when he stopped talking to her), if her Mom was still working at the job she wanted to quit or if she finally did it, if she still wanted to get a cat when tour was over, but he just couldn’t.

He had no idea where to even start, does he talk to her, then hope the conversation will lead to a place where he can apologize, or does he just apologize straight up, but have no explanation as to why he hurt her in the first place.

The internal battle lasted until they landed, when they got off the plane, traveled to the hotel, and when they went to their respective suites.

Y/N considered herself lucky that Harry had decided to not speak to her on the flight. That wouldn’t have given her an option to opt out of the conversation, and she knew he was smarter than that. She didn’t know however, that when she opened the door to her hotel room after a hasty knock, expecting another member of the band, that Harry would be standing in front of it, his eyes widened in anxiety.

“Wh-”

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out, interrupting her and walking past her into her room that she hadn’t invited him into. “I’m so sorry for ignoring you, and-and not talking to you when you tried to talk to me. You didn’t deserve it, I’m sorry.”

Her brows raised in surprise and she shut the door behind him, staying near the entrance. As her mouth opened to accept the apology, her mind raced through how she had been feeling the past month and instead she said, “It’s been a fucking month Harry, I-I thought everything was fine, and then one day you just decided to cut me out?”

“I know,” He stepped closer to her, guilt rushing through him. “I know, it was stupid of me, and I shouldn’t have, but I didn’t even know what to say. You wouldn’t even look at me on the flight and I-“

He was interrupted by her walking up and pushing her finger against his chest. “I wouldn’t talk to you?” She scoffed, tears brimming her eyes. “I-what did you expect after you pushed me away for a month, no warning, no reason-”

“Of course I had a reason!” Harry raised his voice, eyes watery as well. “I fucking love you! That’s why, and-and we were getting too close than friends should, and I couldn’t handle not being with you.”

Silence.

“Fuck, Y/N I’m so sorry-mmph!”

His apology was silenced by her lips on his, and his eyes widened as he realized what was happening. They fluttered closed, and his arms wrapped around her torso, while her hands were placed on his cheeks and wowthiswasreallyhappeningandhewasn’tdreamingwashedreamingnohewasn’t-

Y/N pulled away with a deep breath in and laughed a bit, her forehead resting against his. “If you didn’t catch on with that, I love you too.”

Harry laughed and cheekily grinned, pulling her even closer than she was before. “Really? I’m not sure I got it, can you help me understand a bit more?”

She swatted his chest and kissed him once more. “Cheeky bastard.”

#stillcantbelieveharrywonagrammy #stillsadaboutpostponedtour #itswhateverthough #harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #mitch is my favorite person

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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years

Text

Our song - Harry Styles

this one was inspired by the jingleball performance bc it was pure perfection and UGHH im obsessed.

dedicated to my dear friend @dontworrysunflower

disclaimer: the song Homesick by Dua Lipa is featured in this fic as an original work of Harry and the reader, but it’s obviously an existing song, I just thought that it would be the song they write

pairing: Harry x vocalist!reader

word count: 5.3k

masterlist

You’ve felt the adrenaline rush take over your body many times in your life and they were all different in some kind of way. The one you felt when you were about to write an important test in school, the one that bubbled through your veins when you got your first kiss. The one that rolled through your limbs and chest when you first performed in front of people that weren’t your parents and the one you felt when you got the news that you were chosen to tour with none other than Harry Styles as his vocalist, singing on his stage every other night in a different city and different country.

But none of those were anything like the feeling that takes over every time you stand on that stage, your microphone that’s labelled with your name right in front of you as thousands of people are screaming in the jam-packed arena. Though it’s not you they come to see and listen to, but you are part of the magic and it’s quite enough for you.

You could never be the one standing at the front with all the lights shining down on your frame, having every gaze in the place glued to you, listening to your voice. That brings the kind of anxiety you’re quite sure you wouldn’t be able to handle. You are perfectly fine standing in the back, being the support system while staying on the down-low as someone else shines at the front, in your case, it’s Harry.

You applied for the job with a reason, already having a huge appreciation for him as an artist, adoring his work so far, especially Fine Line. Upon hearing about the opportunity to be part of his tour, you didn’t hesitate to send your application in and following three auditions, you got the phone call that they wanted you on board.

He swept you right off your feet the first time you met him, but you didn’t expect less from him. Everything you heard about him being the most wonderful person to every walk the planet were proven to be nothing but the truth. You hit it off so easily and become close through the process of rehearsals. His odd little jokes, that funny laugh of his and the way he always peeks over his shoulder to meet his eyes with yours made you fall for him faster than you’d have ever thought you could.

Just as fast as your feeling for Harry developed, tour caught up on you and before you could blink twice, you were living on the road, always dressing from your suitcase, waking up in a different city every other morning.

The foreign studio feels a little odd, but still somehow familiar as you walk in with your water and notebook under your arm. Random studio sessions with Harry became a regular not long after tour kicked off. Harry’s creative juices were overflowing and he was aching to record his creations, constantly renting random studios near the hotel you lot were staying currently and one night, when some of you all were hanging out in his suit, he asked if you’d be down helping him record vocals for a song he’s been working on.

“I want to hear it with your voice instead of mine,” he told you leaning against the wall, a glass of whatever Mitch mixed him in his hands.

“Getting bored of your own voice?” you teased him, bringing his dimples out with the smile that plastered across his lips.

“Could say that. Are you up for it?”

There was no way you would have said no. So the next morning you found yourself in a studio somewhere in Sacramento, singing the vocals to a song no one else has heard other than you and Harry.

The tour has now reached Denver, you can’t wait to be on the stage tonight, but before that, you are having another quick session with Harry in the studio.

When you walk in, his head perks up from his leather notebook he always keeps on himself, filled with his scribbled lyrics. A smile stretches across his lips when his green eyes fall on your frame.

“Hey! Hope it’s not too early for you,” he softly says standing up from the chair as you put your stuff down to the small table in the corner.

“No, managed to get a good night sleep still,” you smile at him, taking a quick look around, though this recording room is just like the others you’ve been in.

“I think I figured out that part we struggled with last time. Changed up the ending a bit, would you mind giving it another go?”

You nod looking down at his notes, seeing the changes he has made in the vocals.

“Changed anything else?” you ask as you watch him get ready for the recording.

“Yeah, rewrote a few lines, think they are fitting better now.”

“Have you recorded them yet?”

“Will do now,” he tells you shaking his head.

Soon enough you find yourself standing behind the mic, headset covering your ears as you are waiting for Harry to start recording and the music to play in your ears. Once he shows up his thumb you do the same and a moment later the song you’ve heard last time you two were working starts flowing from the headset and you stare down at the notes in front of you, waiting for the moment when you have to start singing.

It takes you a few runs to nail it down, but when you finally do, you can see the satisfied grin on Harry’s face and you think to yourself that there’s nothing you wouldn’t do to make him like this anytime.

“That was fantastic,” he beams once you join him at the screens where you see your voice appear as a pattern over a straight line. Harry does his usual magic before leaving it be. “Mind assisting recording my part?” he asks turning to you with an excited smile.

Nodding you let him tell you what to do and once he is all set behind the mic, you start the recording and the song. You listen to him in awe. There hasn’t been a moment when you didn’t feel the shiver running down your spine when he started singing. You are convinced a choir of angels is hidden in his throat, because it’s hard to believe he is just as human as everyone else.

He sings the whole song three times before he joins you again, listening back to what you have so far. The song is coming along pretty well and you can tell by the time he finishes it, it’s gonna be perfect. Everything he does is just pure perfection, whether he likes to admit it or not.

“You know how it would be absolutely perfect?” he asks you on your way back to the hotel. The two of you grabbed a coffee as well, so now you’re sipping on the hot drink, enjoying the somewhat sunny weather.

“Hm?”

“I think it would be best if a female voice sang the whole thing and the male was just the vocal.”

“Who do you think would fit best for it then?” you ask, immediately thinking of singers that could be perfect for the song. It wouldn’t be the first time Harry would sell a song to someone else, so you’re not surprised he is thinking about this kind of change.

“Y/N, I found the voice already,” he chuckles and you give him a puzzled look. “You. You are singing the song, I don’t need anyone else.”

“I’m not a solo singer,” you protest.

“There’s no such thing as solo or not solo. You’re a singer and a bloody good one. I want you to sing it.”

“But it would go to waste, because I would never actually perform it.”

“How are you so sure about that?” he smirks slyly at you, immediately making you nervous.

“Harry, I don’t sing solo,” you shake your head stubbornly, but he rolls his eyes at you.

“You could just try it. Let’s just record the song next time with you in the lead and then we can talk about the rest.”

“I’m fine recording, but I will never perform it,” you tell him, but his look makes you think he has other plans.

When tour reaches Dallas, the song gets a version with you singing solo and Harry doing the vocals in it. And though you had doubts about the switch, listening back to it you can tell how much it helped. It really is better with a female voice, though you are still convinced it shouldn’t be you.

“Are you sure you don’t want to sell it to someone? I’m fine with that,” you ask him before the show in Dallas. You’re sitting on the table in his dressing room while he is painting his nails, his tongue poking out in concentration.

“I told you, I like it with your voice. Why is that so hard to believe?”

“Because I’m not a—“

“Fuck’s sake if you dare to tell me one more time that you’re not a solo singer, I’m firing you, Y/N!” he snaps, giving you a hard look, but you just laugh at his temper.

“It’s the truth.”

“Have you ever tried to go solo?”

“Not for years,” you admit and watch him screw the nail polish closed, pushing it aside, his hands lying flat on the table as he is carefully waiting for them to dry.

“So then how do you know you are no good at it?”

“Because I hated it back then, so I most likely would hate it now as well,” you state matter-of-factly, but Harry doesn’t seem amused by your answer.

“So you think you haven’t changed a bit in years? I hope you know that’s absolute bollocks.”

“Why are you so keen on making me sing solo?” you sigh, giving him a tired look. It feels like the two of you have been running the same circles since forever. It’s not his first attempt to get you sing more than just the vocals, he once wanted to do a cover and needed a partner because it was a duet and begged you for weeks to sing with him, but you didn’t give in. You just couldn’t.

“Because I think that you are a talented singer and I want you to feel the adrenaline rush performing gives you.”

“I do get that rush every time I sing behind you. That’s enough for me.”

Harry shakes his head pressing his lips tight together.

“That’s not the same as being in the lead. It’s a whole different world.”

“Yeah, one that makes me shit my pants,” you chuckle and he can’t push a smile back.

“Maybe we should just work on it. Your anxiety. I think we could actually make you feel better if we tried.”

“I still don’t know where this obsession with me being solo comes for you.”

Harry stands up, takes one last look at his nails before he steps closer smiling down at you softly and you bite into your bottom lip, realizing how close he is standing to you. His fingers tap in your cheek gently, running them down to your chin as he tilts your head up a bit.

“Just accept it, Love,” he smiles softly before stepping away and carrying on with his routine.

That evening, you stand at the back with the other two vocalists, eyes glued to Harry’s figure at the front of the stage, you watch him pour his soul out to the audience, interact with them and reach that state of mind you have never been able to get into. You know what he told you about performing is true, yet you are still terrified to do it yourself. It’s too nerve wrecking to have everyone look at and listen to you, so many chances to mess it up and make a fool out of yourself.

But when Harry’s eyes meet yours and he shoots you a warm smile, something shifts in you. The urge to have this connection with not just the audience and the song, but with him takes over your whole body and you make up your mind to at least give it a try.

Harry is ecstatic when you tell him later that night that you changed your mind. You see that sparkle in his eyes and it was already worth for you, just seeing him react like that.

“Though I have a few suggestions to change the lyrics.”

“You do?” he asks, seemingly surprised, but mostly amused that you had the balls to come out with it.

“Yeah. Just some tiny details.”

“Why haven’t you told me about these before?”

“Because it was your song. But if you want me to sing it, it has to be mine as well.” Harry stares back at you with a smile that’s filled with pride and joy, making your heart flutter in your aching chest as you think about performing solo.

“Our song,” he softly says nodding his head.

Arriving to Houston the two of you are quick to book a studio and work on the song. Harry lets you make any changes you desire on the lyrics, even says you did justice to it and that you should have spoken up earlier about your ideas. And then you record it.

It’s not that you have to sing the whole song and not just the vocals this time. You are completely fine with Harry hearing you sing, it’s the thought of performing it in front of anyone that’s not him, that’s what makes you turn into a wreck.

You record Harry’s vocals and once it’s all put together, you are blown by the outcome. You wouldn’t have thought Harry’s voice as the vocal would compliment you in the lead, but it’s just absolutely perfect and even you can’t find anything wrong with it.

“Love, this is what Heaven sounds like, I’m telling you,” he smirks at you from the chair beside you, playing the song for the tenth time, not able to get enough of the final product.

“You are so cheesy,” you shake your head, but feel the blush heating up your cheeks. His eyes linger on you a little longer before he turns back to the screen.

When the song is over he finally stops is so silence comes over the studio. Harry turns back to face you, his green eyes basically burning a hole into your head.

“So, when are we going to perform it?”

“I really don’t think it’s a good idea,” you sigh looking down at your hands fumbling with your shirt.

“And I do think it is. So I’m not stopping until you at least try it.”

Harry Styles gets what he wants. Always. And this time, no matter how hard you try to resist him, you just can’t deny this from him. Though it takes him time to talk you up, in Washington he finally gets you to give it a try in an empty stadium.

Most of the crew is out, since the building has been finished about half an hour before, so everything is perfectly set for tonight’s show when you walk out to the stage, following Harry in his heels. He asked the piano to be brought to the front along with a mic on it and another one on a stand next to it. The two of you quietly put on your earpieces, doing everything as if it was a usual occasion before a concert, only that this time the roles will be entirely switched.

“It’s fine, alright? No one is around,” he tells you when he sees how nervous you are to sing the song for the first time outside a studio.

“There are some backstage,” you mumble under your breath, not expecting him to do anything about it.

But he does. You watch him walk backstage, completely dumbfounded about what he is doing. He disappears from your sight and a few moments later you hear him shouting at the back.

“No one comes to the stage until I say so! Yea? Thanks!” he orders and then walks back as if he didn’t just boss around the whole crew.

“They will think you’re some kind of crazy celebrity,” you chuckle when he returns, a small smirk playing on his pink lips.

“Don’t care, Darling. Now sing you heart out for me.”

Harry sits on the piano bench, his fingers getting settled on the keys before he looks up to meet your anxious eyes.

“It’s alright. Just you and me, yea?”

Nodding you gulp hard and jump a little when he starts playing the melody the two of you have been working on for so long. You hear all the notes and you know you have to start singing, but you miss the opening. Harry stops and looks at you, as you move your eyes down to the ground, ashamed you messed up immediately.

“S-Sorry, I just—“

“How can I help?” he asks right away, not even caring about the fact that you messed up, focused on figuring out a way that would help you.

“I don’t know. I really don’t,” you sigh, feeling your nerves getting worse with each passing moment.

“Come sit next to me,” he then tells you motioning for you to join him on the bench.

“What?”

“Take your mic and sit next to me,” he repeats, scooting over to make you space. Hesitantly, you pull the mic out of the stand and walking over you sit next to him. “Now you are not in the center. Just listen to the music, watch my hands on the keys, okay?”

You nod, running your tongue over your dry lips as you hold the mic to your mouth before Harry starts playing again.

After the first few notes you close your eyes and when it’s time for you to start singing, Harry leans a little against you, giving you a kind of push to just do it. And it works.

It feels a little as if it’s not even you who starts singing, but it is. Your voice fills the empty arena along with the piano’s melody and keeping your eyes closed a little longer you let your mind settle. When the first verse ends you open them and watch his hands work on the keys, right as he starts singing the vocals, leaning a little forward so his voice reaches his mic.

It’s different. It’s electric and freeing, hear your voice through the massive speakers, to be in the lead and have Harry be just the support in the song. But it feels so right, better than anything you’ve ever felt.

Line after line, you hit all the notes and by the end of the song you are able to strip all your fears down and give yourself over to the music completely. As you sing the last few notes you feel Harry’s eyes on you and turning to face him, you are met with his warm, pride-filled smile and bright eyes, glued to you while his fingers press down the last notes.

The music dies down, the voice of the piano vibrates in the air a little longer until it completely disappears and the silence returns into the stadium.

“Love,” Harry quietly calls out for you and you turn completely towards him. “That was absolutely perfect.”

“You think so?” you ask, voice barely more than just a whisper, your eyes never leaving his gaze.

“I know so,” he huffs, smile widening. He brings an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into a hug, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead as you let out a breath you’ve been holding in for way too long.

He doesn’t try to make you perform that evening, knowing well it was enough for one day, but he does make you sing it with him in each city in the upcoming weeks. Before every concert, he empties out the area around the stage and the two of you sit down at the piano, singing your song until you feel comfortable enough to stand next to the instrument instead of sitting next to him.

The tour reaches New York and Madison Square Garden is getting ready to host Harry Styles for two evenings. The place is massive and you find yourself sitting at the edge of the stage when Harry emerges from backstage.

“Looks wild, right?” he asks sitting next to you, his thigh brushing against yours as he gets seated.

“Yeah. Pretty amazing.”

“This place has the most magical vibe.” “Yeah?” Turning to him you watch him take the arena in, his eyes glistening at the sight in front of him. You know it’s not his first time performing here, but it’s nice to see the excitement in his eyes regardless.

That feeling returns to your chest, the one you felt when Harry told you he wanted you to sing the song. The urge to be part of this amazing something that’s so much bigger than you.

“H?”

“Yea?” he turns to you smiling.

“Can I… Do you think we could sing our song tonight?”

You watch the pure surprise and excitement wash over his face, his smile stretching across his face as he stares back at you in awe.

“You want to sing it?”

Shyly, you nod your head and in a heartbeat his arms lock around you, pulling you into the tightest hug. The two of you almost fall off the stage, laughing together at his dramatic reaction.

“Of course we can sing it, Love. Would be an honor!”

Harry is quick to let the band know about the addition for tonight’s set and though everyone seems surprised, they are all supportive about your solo. As the time goes and the concert gets closer, you can feel the nerves building up and soon enough, you start to doubt your choice to sing the song tonight.

Right before it’s time to go on stage Harry takes your hand and pulls you aside, taking your face in his hands gently, making you look into his eyes.

“I know you are doubting yourself, but just know that I’m very proud of you, even if you decide to not sing the last minute.”

“I could do that?” you whisper, your hands finding his sides and you let them rest on him, a way to ground yourself in the windwhirl of your thoughts.

“Of course. I wouldn’t want to make you do something you don’t really want. Though I know you will be amazing if you choose to sing.”

Nodding you let a weak smile appear on your lips and you notice as his eyes flicker down to them before he moves his gaze up to your eyes. He then pulls you into a proper hug before walking back to the rest of the band and vocalists.

Everything goes as usual and once again, you can’t take your eyes off Harry on the stage. Just watching him perform fills you up with life, enough to keep you from running away. About halfway into the set, as the crowd is still cheering after the previous song, Harry jogs over to you.

“You ready?” he asks over the noise and before you could think about it, you nod your head.

Two guys from the crew pushes the piano further to the front and they help to set everything up as you awkwardly stand at the side. Once your mic is in the stand you walk over there, heart hammering in your chest, hands shaking like crazy.

“I have a special song for you tonight,” Harry announces into the microphone as he makes his way over to the piano. “Please welcome the lovely Y/N here, who is gonna enchant you with a song we’ve been working on lately.”

The crowd screams and you allow yourself to look around with a weak smile. So many people, you think to yourself, everyone watching you.

“It’s called Homesick, and it means so much to us, so we hope you’ll like it Justas much as we do,” Harry adds before settling on the bench and his eyes find yours. “I’m proud of you,” you see him say, only able to read his lips since the crowd is screaming so loud. “Ready?” he asks and you nod, taking a shaky breath.

He sends you a warm comforting smile before glancing down at the keys and then he starts playing.

youtube

Just like the first time, you close your eyes, forcing yourself to focus on the melody and nothing else. The lump in your throat is quite uncomfortable, but you open your eyes and see that Harry is looking straight at you, nodding in encouragement, as his fingers push down the keys to the notes right before you have to start.

“Here, where the sky’s falling, I’m covered in blue, I’m running and I’m crawling, fighting for you…”

Harry smiles wide when your voice flows through the speakers, filling the whole place, making everyone go quiet in a heartbeat as the song carries on. You feel your chest slowly deflating, the nerves cooling down with each sung note.

“You give me a reason, something to believe in, I know, I know, I know. You give me a meaning, something I can breathe in, I know, I know, I know…”

The chorus comes out perfect, your voice melting together with the piano and you finally feel your muscles relax as you slowly let go of every toxic thought that’s been tainting your mind. Harry leans closer to his microphone and his voice gently joins yours in the next verse.

“There’s a crack in my window, a bird in my room, angels all over that watch over you…”

Chills run down your spine hearing his voice, your eyes never leaving his gaze that’s fixated on your standing figure. You get lost in him and the song, something that came from the both of you, a piece of you and him. Standing there, singing this piece makes you feel closer to him than ever and you desperately want this feeling to last forever, hoping the song never ends though you know it’s gonna happen.

“When I’m walking on water all my dreams have come true. Still nothing means nothing without you…”

Homesick is exactly the feeling that bubbles inside you when you think of Harry. Because there’s this man you love so much, who is a home away from home to you, yet you still feel like you can’t be home entirely. Not in the way you’d want to. But standing on the stage in the spotlight, singing together with him as thousands of people are watching the two of you, yet you still manage to forget about them, for a moment, you feel like you finally arrived home. You are there, with him.

“Tell my heart to lie, but I know deep inside it’s true. That I wish I was there with you. That I wish I was there with you, oh I wish I was there with you.”

He plays the end of the song without tearing his eyes away from you, and there’s just a heartbeat of silence before the crowd starts screaming deafeningly, but that short moment… is yours and his.

Tugging your hair behind your ears with your shaky hands, your eardrums on the verge of breaking as you let out a laugh that was kind of a sob as well, relief washing over your body. Harry is quick to jump to his feet and rushing over he envelopes you in a tight hug.

“I’m so so so proud of you, Love. You were everything!” he mumbles, arms holding you so tight you almost lose your breath, but you want him this close, or even closer. You need to feel him, because it doesn’t feel real. His hold brings you a sense of existence only he can give you.

“Thank you, Harry,” you breathe out when he pulls back to look into your eyes, the screaming hasn’t died down even a tad little.

“No, thank you, Darling. You shined like the star that you are,” he grins, playing a sloppy kiss to your cheek before his arms fall off you.

You’d die to stay in this moment a little longer, but the show must go on. The crew pushes the piano back and soon enough, the next song starts. You stay in your spot for the rest, but you keep catching Harry smiling in your way, always making you blush.

The end of a concert is always a little hectic, everyone is all over the place. Still coming off the high you just experienced, you head to the dressing room you share with the other vocalists. They are going on and on about how amazing Homesick was, and you somehow still can’t believe tonight happened. Packing your stuff you barely notice that the door flies open, but you see Harry appear from the corner of your eye.

“Ladies, would you please give me a moment with Y/N?” he asks and the girls are quick to leave the two of you alone. You stand there, kind of dumbfounded, not sure why he is acting so dramatic. Once the door closes and it’s just you and him, he stares at you, chest heaving, his hair wet from his sweat, but he still looks breathtaking.

“Harry—“

“I’m gonna kiss you now,” he cuts you off, your breath gets caught in your throat as you stare back at him, completely frozen. Opposite to what he just said, he remains standing in the same spot and you’re not sure what’s happening. “Can I? Please say yes, I can’t hold myself back for any longer,” he then adds.

“Yes,” you breathe out without even thinking about it. In a heartbeat, Harry crosses the room, chest smashing against yours as he wraps his arms around you, lips crashing onto yours in a kiss that almost makes you moan into his mouth.

It’s all a hot mess, teeth clashing, hands all over each other before his palms run down to the back of your thighs, urging you to jump. When you do, you wrap your legs around his waist and let him walk over to the table nearby, so he can place you on top, standing between your thighs as he keeps kissing you hungrily, his tongue melting together with yours in this sweet chaos. It keeps going on and on, neither of you wanting to let go of the other, but you are eventually forced to stop, coming short of air. Panting wildly, lips swollen from his kisses, you look at him to meet his gaze.

“You have no idea how hard it was to stop myself from kissing you on stage.”

“What?” you breathe out.

“Y/N, I’m fucking crazy about you and seeing you come over your stage fright, sing that song… our song, fuck, that did some unbelievable things to me. Please tell me you felt the same thing!” He is begging, not just with his words, but with his eyes as well and it crushes your soul entirely.

“I did. Harry, I always do when I’m with you.”

“Fucking Hell,” he breathes out before kissing you again. “You are… everything, Love,” he mumbles against your lips and you can’t push down the smile stretching across your face, hearing him say the same words he said right after the song.

“You’ve told me that,” you tease him, his gaze meeting yours as he flashes you his famous half-smirk, heart fluttering at the sight of him.

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x vocalist!reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles au

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eggmarr · 3 years

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genshin boys but they’re orchestra nerds

characters: zhongli, diluc, childe, kaeya

a/n: this is literally the most random thing but i’m feeling really self indulgent right now so here, maybe a part two with something different idk. also my orchestra knowledge only extends to the high school level so far so just keep that in mind kk? (also if you wanna know i play violin so yes i am the leading expert on orchestra nerds/j)

(kinda high school au/vaguely modern au, gender neutral but mentions of girl-majority fan clubs, mild “i’m not like others” mentality of teen age, and very little suggestive themes)

———-/

zhongli

he is the upperclassman first violin who takes his school breaks to help teach the other younger classes, the one each member looks up to with some mix of envy and attraction when the teacher continuously praises his posture and technique. the younger girls swoon over him, and you swear he must be keeping the program running just from the new recruits hoping to catch the eye of such a talented young man. you’re really only there with him for the extra credit, but he’s just so...him. does that make sense?

first violins in a string orchestra generally carry the melodies of pieces, and as a result the section itself is highly desired. nothing is wrong with being a second violin, it just couldn’t be zhongli aha; concert black is like all black dresswear, which differs from place to place. it’s usually dress pants and a nice shirt, but different areas can have things like uniforms or specific dress.

you are quite staunchly against being a cliche, but by the stars if he doesn’t stop being so charming and smart with that voice of his every time you join him with the younger grades, you’re going to make a very stupid decision the next time you see him in concert black.

diluc

most definitely a bass player. mysterious and somewhat enigmatic, a quiet private lessons kid who volunteered to play with your class to offset the amount of smaller instruments. the others gossip amongst themselves about how his backpack is emblazoned with the crest of a famous academy and how they’d very much like to “test his vibrato technique” (wink-wonk), but you spot how a small cord of blue beads dangles from his backpack and the way he keeps a small smile even as he’s rolling his eyes at someone on the other line of the call.

vibrato is a technique used to warble and waver the sound of the string, which you may have seen used in media occasionally (it’s basically that finger movement they do while playing). the string bass is a big instrument and i mean,,, diluc in a blazer and collared shirt with a high ponytail feels like something that appeals to a lot of people

his brother is rather moody, but at least kaeya knows when to back off (most of the time). but the way diluc looks at you when you’re looking away - he wouldn’t be so mad with a wingman, would he?

childe

first chair viola. this smug, flirty little rich boy has been a pain in your ass since you met him at the organized rehearsal, and were (begrudgingly) sat to his right at the connection of your sections. i mean, this is a collective of the best student players in the state, and he’s…challenging you to bowfence with him? there’s someone strange about this “childe,” and you’re going to find out before the three days are up.

childe would play viola just because it’s the most slandered instrument so naturally he wants to master it and become best at it. bowfencing is like the young orchestra kid’s show of dominance and only flirting technique until they adapt. this is based lightly off of my time with all state/all city orchestra, but it differs from place to place.

you’ve finally got some free time right before the performance, when you see the boy you babysit on the weekends; teucer, with his older siblings tonia and anthon at the door. oh, they’re not here with your family, but here for their brother? you’ve heard a lot about this sweetheart, why don’t they point him out before the concert so you can finally meet the elusive ajax?

kaeya

also viola, but much more casual about it. it’s his hobby, which is code for he saw how his adoptive family treasured their expensive talents and wanted something to share with his new and distant brother. a new student transfer; he says he’s practically inept at it but the calluses on his fingertips beg to differ. the teacher makes you his tour guide, and you squint at his mannerisms when a wave of deja vu overcomes your senses. but, who is this boy, and why does the look of blue hair in low light look so familiar?

kaeya originally wanted to play bass but in typical brotherly fashion, he and diluc made a bet which he lost. chamber music is usually played by a small group of players, with each one having a single part. yes, this is a childhood friends/light amnesia trope, don’t blame me blame netflix for making wish dragon so cute ok? good.

you and he are from two different lives, but he’ll be damned if he lets those circumstances tear the two of you apart again. being partnered for the end-of-year chamber project is supposed to be his saving grace, but perhaps a red-haired deux ex machina may be of better use here?

#i finished this while listening to one direction #i honestly don't know what this is i just know bass player diluc #this looks so messy but i don't understand dividers yet so #fellow orchestra players tell me how accurate i am before i combust/j #i put so many tropes in here lmao #i would have done more characters but i know nothing about band or chorus other than that orchestra is better/hj #zhongli is just eddy from twosetviolin ok i realize it now #genshin x reader #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #childe x reader #zhongli x reader

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itstheimpossibledream · 3 years

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It’s Only A Play -Part 3

Word Count:3244

Pairing : AU Henry Cavill x FemBlack!Reader

Summary: We love a good slow burn. SMUT

The bag crackled in his large hands. You found yourself wondering why he even bothered delicately tearing the wrapping, when he could easily smash both the wrapper and cookie open in one fist. The fortune seemed so small in his hands.He held the paper back a bit further than you would have expected and you realized he was probably one of those people who needed glasses but refused to get them.He cleared his throat again."It says 'The art of living is taking the biggest chance.'"

"In bed." you said quickly

"What?!" his eyebrows flew up in shock but,he laughed to keep from appearing to hopeful.

"It's an American thing. You read a fortune cookie and at the end you add in bed. It makes every fortune cookie funnier, I promise."you said not breaking eye contact. He threw his head back and laughed even harder. It was a childish trick but, something about it tickled him so much he hardly noticed when his hat fell off of his head and onto Kal who had been peacefully sleeping in the slice of floor behind Henry's chair. His baritone chuckles echo through the apartment and you’re amazed that neighbors didn't even cross his mind as a concern in this place.Realistically he probably wasn’t even home enough to get a noise complaint. His laughing had lessened and you could feel him watching you. You knew people who had embarrassingly nice apartments but, nothing like this. This was just lavishly ridiculous.

"It gets lonely being here alone." He said evenly,reading your mind. "Family doesn't visit much and keeping friends with a schedule like mine is just..."

"Not easy ." you finished for him.You could feel his eyes boring into you carving out a space in your heart for him and you try to will yourself to stop. You both sat comfortable on the silence for a while, momentarily mutually mourning the lifestyle you lost to live your dream.

"Okay read yours!" Henry gestured to you cookie. You smashed it to bits,gingerly pulling out the paper fortune. You sat up tall clearing your throat trying to figure out if this fortune would be equally funny or if your childish trick had run it's course.

"You Are very talented in many ways in bed." You say bursting out laughing as he doubled over again.

"Come on! How come I couldn't have gotten that one" he jokes shrugging his shoulders.

" Just wasn't your fortune."you tease winking at him and getting up from the table.Okay so you were flirting with him,definitely flirting with him. But a highschool showmance was so unlike you. You knew the golden rule was to never go for your co-stars and yet here you were winking and shit. Maybe he'd ignore it , he really knew nothing about you outside of your work.

"So what made you like this story? When you got the script when did know you had to do it ?" He had moved from the table, his eyes shown brightly as he recovered his hat from the floor on his way. At the end of dinner you assumed it would be normal to grab your jacket and go back to your room.It's not like he had really planned for you to be over, and you weren't even friends so staying up this late with him to gossip wasn’t exactly in the cards. You had already learned so much more about him than you had expected to. He expertly moved to the kitchen,uncorked a bottle of wine he had chilling in the refrigerator and returned to the couch handing one of the glasses to you. So, now you were staying, I mean it’d be rude to turn down wine.

"Uhhhhh- well I think the relationship is relatable, it's real. It's not about these two perfect people but, it's about this perfect love they have... ya know?" You whirl yourself onto the seat on the couch next to him."To imagine what they were going through as a couple I mean- it must have made everything harder, these characters are from completely different worlds and they still choose each other in their own way. " He nods next to you , this was new. Geeking out with him about work wasn't what you expected but, you were actually enjoying it.

"So let me ask you something?"he pushes leaning in , He wrings his hands together and you’re distracted by the veiny passageways that mark down from his forearms."When do you think it would actually be necessary for them to have a sex scene?"he asks timidly.

"Right!" you exclaim! "I love Stephen but the way he directs it makes it feel so clunky !"you emphasize with your hands and he chuckles saying "Okay I'm so glad you noticed it too- like who has sex like this robots?"

"You know his partners have to be weird." you laugh , noticing how pointy his canines are. God, he looks like one of those twilight vampires, his stupid skin probably did shine in actual sunlight Not that New York would get any though,you acknowledge while making a mental note , not to drink to much of the wine that was clearly causing you to get distracted. You finish your glass and set it on the coffee table.

"Yeah I don't know i just think it's an unconventional love story and we need more of those." you smile , sheepishly meeting his eyes , going back to the topic of the show. His lower lip juts up as he nods,in agreement.

"Soooooo what's next?"you pop up, moving to his kitchen opening random cabinets, trying to find his liquor stash. You come across the empty bottle, of what must have been the wine you just drank and turn to him in the living room with a fake pout. It wasn’t that you were bored, or even that you didn’t want to spend time with him sober ;as much as it was that you desperately needed to cling to the idea that he wasn’t a good man for you.

"O. you can smoke out on the terrace if you want, and I don't have any more drinks here but,I can call down to the frontdesk to run and get you something.” Your eyes rolled so hard they almost fell out of your head.

"Of Course you have a front desk."you chortled to yourself.

"Hey, this is the flat the show is paying to keep me in not my own." he pointed at you in mock sternness

"No I'm okay. I don't smoke and drink all the time " you chided at him,he probably didn't really think that. He was just trying to drum up some conversation.

"and here I thought you were a real New Yorker." he jokes breaking into a toothy grin.

" I'm from a very small town-" you divulged with a sigh"definitely not New York.”

"Yeah- there's not many people from where I grew up around here either." he said plainly , moving to take off his rehearsal sneakers, for what was probably the first time since you had gotten to his place.

"You miss it a lot huh?" you ask

"I mean I go back often but, it's just much nicer to not have camera's up your ass all the time."he huffs, moving to the second set of laces.

"Ahh that good old Hollywood fame." you joke, with a sigh. He just smiles at you, beaming embarrassingly knowing he can never seem to say the right thing around you. For some reason busting his balls was somehow so much better than admitting to a feeling that you were becoming increasingly aware of,you wanted him.

"I'm not like a smoker smoker" you say, slicing through the silence "I picked it up from my ex and it just kinda stuck." you admit with a flippant gesture of your hand." But, only when I'm nervous or something."you felt the need to clarify.

"And why would you be nervous?"He smirked, pushing his shoes under the decoratively simplistic coffee table across from him and sliding down the front of the couch to sit on the floor. His thighs seemed abnormally large as he spread his legs out and started stretching. This time it was your turn to look away from him.You peeled your eyes,just as quick as he had before your shower. The confidence that radiated from him was absolutely maddening. You couldn't understand how any man could be so aware of their looks and yet still come off as slightly shy.

"I'm always nervous the first days of rehearsal.The new schedule, the new people, it's all just overwhelming at times." you divulged honestly. He pulled a knee into his chest heaving a sigh as you continued. "I wish I never started smoking though." you circled back.

"Do you wish you never met him too?"Henry asked, inquisitively peering up from under his hat as he switched knees. You exhaled slowly,fighting for the right way to answer that question.

"Sometimes yes" you nodded. "When I first moved to New York it was really tough, I felt really lonely too." you allowed your voice to trail into a whisper. There is a silence and then you can feel his eyes on you, your cheeks burning red-hot and the more you avoid looking at him the stronger the urge is.

"So that's why you're single." it was brutal but, you weren't upset.Long ago you had come to a similar realization about yourself. Plus, european’s had a way of sounding rude while simply stating facts, it’s part of what makes them so trendy.

"You've allowed life to make you become tough and jaded so you just don't date?Is that it?" he perked an eyebrow in your direction while removing his baseball cap.While you took no offense to his comment, that didn't stop you from hating it.

"Why do you care?" you asked immediately, choosing the defensive instead of going deeper and chasing him down the rabbit hole of honesty.

"See what is that?" he questioned.It was clear he was not going to be letting this go anytime soon.

"I'm trying to do the assignment. I'm trying to get to know you and you push me away."

"Don't be ridiculous."you roll your eyes toward him once again."I'm not pushing you away I just have boundaries and things I don’t want to discuss with you."

You push up from the couch and head in the direction of your room. It was not within his right to pry about your personal relationships,and truly there was nothing more to discuss. Plus, you knew if you stayed close to him a moment longer, you would give into his eyes and the beautiful vanes bulging in his large hand.

"Why?" he asked jumping to his feet,his agility momentarily shocking you as you turn to leave.

"Because I don't want to ! Because you're not-"

"Not what?" he pushes" I've been working around you and this thing between us and I don't why you can be blunt about everything else except this !" He got dangerously close to raising his voice and it stirred the butterflies in your stomach. Something about him being so stern with you set your sex drive ablaze. You could feel yourself biting down hard on your bottom lip and the more you refused to break eye contact with him the more fired up you became. You could see the honesty behind his eyes, he was trying with you, he was proving himself every step of the way and you hated how much you loved it.

"Fine. What is it? What's the THIS?" you ask sarcastically, staring directly at him. His face looked blank and you wondered for a moment if you had asked the right thing. He grabs your hand,falling back onto the couch and pulling you onto the couch on top of him.You quickly realize you are able to put yourself in a position where you can straddle him as he grabs your face, pulling you down to kiss him. You kiss him back slowly , taking time to explore with your tongue. You can feel his hand tangled in your hair at the back of your head and it does something wild to you. You grind down into him and you hear a slight moan escape his mouth.

You bite down suddenly on his bottom lip before coming up for air and he simply can't take it anymore. He wraps his arms around your legs and lifts you up by the bottom of your thighs, carrying you into the bedroom. You feel ridiculously delicate in his arms as he carries you. You break from the kiss momentarily, to make sure your head is ducking all the way under the doorframe as he holds you,smiling into your kiss.

You pull your own shirt off, letting it hit the floor with a loud 'thwack'. The noise momentarily wakes you out of your horny haze. As he lays you on the bed,you bring your forearm up to cover your eyes, in the vaguest attempt of shielding yourself from your own embarrassment. He pulls your pants off and while unsure ,you don't protest as he gingerly splays your legs open for him to see the wetness that had pooled in your underwear.

"O you're so wet for me now."he smiles from ear to ear as you peek through your hand just enough to see his perfectly chiseled chest and you shut your eyes again wondering if this could be real, if he's real.

" We're not done ."he smirks, grabbing you by the legs and pulling you towards him. He then gracefully flips you over onto your hands and knees facing away from him.He pulls your panties down and drags his large fingers over your wet slit and you arch your back at his touch. He settles one hand on your hip as he uses the other hand to work himself into you.You had imagined he was big, but when you feel his head poking into you, you knew your fantasies could never compare to the reality. He uses the hand on your hip to slowly pull you further onto him until you are taking in his whole length. Moving painstakingly slowly, in and out of you. You hear him moaning above you and then he whispers "Fuck” in that stupid accent before snapping his hips into you and pushing you forward. He uses his other hand to prop you up because he knows he's pushing way to hard for someone of your size. Slamming into your pretty little cunt over and over again. You let out his name and you allow plea after plea for him to let you cum. He pounds into you grabbing your hair and pulling your face up to meet his.After a few more thrusts he finally graces you with a reply.

"No." he says and then pulls out of you. Your body immediately feels drained, completely and utterly fucked out and somehow all you want is more. You hold the position for a minute breathing into the lack of movement when you look back to see Henry watching you. Working himself in his large hand, the veins in his arms bulging and a slight bead of sweat beginning to work it's way onto his forehead.

"Turn over" he commands, and as much as you want to move quickly your legs feel like jelly,the smile line at the corner of his mouth fades as he walks towards you and flips you over himself. He positions himself above you again and says "I want to see that pretty face you make when you cum." he smiles down at you sweetly. Pushing in between your hot folds again and the noise you make is downright pornographic. You know it , he knows it and only fuels the fire behind his thrusts . He reaches for your neck again, giving you a pale necklace of fingers and veins that contrasts with your skin . With his other hand you feel him grab at your hand and interlace your fingers with his, above your head. Your eyes fly open and he is looking directly at you, smiling a bit and you can tell he is taking you in. Revelling in all the tiny noises and ways your body responds to his. You can feel his pace quicken as his moans increase, it almost feels as though the longer you look at him the harder he fucks into you, challenging you, seeing if you can handle him. His curls begin to dampen and stick to his forehead, you watch while he looks down on you. He momentarily breaks having his hand at your throat to bring his own pointer to his mouth. You watch as he lighlty bites down on it while letting out a moan.It's almost as if he's trying to keep himself quiet, or burn this view into his brain, but he's to turned on to focus. He fucks into you harder and harder, you can't take it, seeing his teeth around his own finger made you absolutely feral. You cried out his name immediately and before you could realize what was happening you felt your walls tightening again under him. Your legs shook as waves of pleasure washed over you and you could feel yourself clamping down on him. He fucked you through the orgasm, and when it seemed as though you had recovered, he climbed up your body, forcing his cock down your throat, and came instantly. He shudders and makes deep grunts on top of you. You can't help but gag a little on his length as you try to take in the art that is his unclothed body. He hears you struggling for breath and immediately pulls himself out of you. He holds a thumb at the bottom of your chin and watches as you swallow every drop of him. When you're done you look up at him, giving him your best attempt at doe eyes and he turns your chin up for him to kiss you . Fuck. Fuck. you were not supposed to fuck your coworker.Especially not this coworker, you barely even liked him. After a few moments of making out the contact fizzled and eventually he was just laying next to you, breathing heavily.

"It's purely physical." you sighed, watching the small curly hairs on his pecs as his chest heaved.

"Is it?" he began laughing. His smile shone bright in the dimness of the room. He turns to face you, leaning in for a kiss again and you're to weak to deny him.

"Dammit." he whispers between your lips. You grab the back of his head pulling him closer to you, your mind to blissed out and high for you to think.He kisses you hard and then pulls back. He hops off the bed, chest heaving as he uses his forearm to wipe away the sweat. You sleepily roll over to face where he's going. Some minutes pass and before you know it your overly fucked body is begging for rest.You drift of to sleep feeling euphoria in the big bed.

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stylesnews · 4 years

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“Feeling good in my skin/ I just keep on dancing,” Harry Styles sings in his latest single, “Treat People With Kindness.” And in the song’s exuberant music video -- which has garnered 17 million YouTube views and counting since its debut on New Year’s Day -- he does just that: Wearing a sequined jacket and bow tie, he chassés, spins and flutters jazz hands like an MGM musical star (with a little help from his equally debonair partner, Fleabag’s Phoebe Waller-Bridge).

Styles shot the video in early 2019 after several weeks of training with choreographer Paul Roberts, a collaborator since his One Direction days. “I think somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew this could be something special,” says Roberts, a veteran stage director and choreographer who’s worked on videos and tours for the likes of Sam Smith, Katy Perry, Diana Ross, and the Spice Girls (their Spiceworld stadium tour).

Watching the explosive fan reaction to Styles’s little known dance talents -- including from the Spice Girls, who've “sent lovely messages" about the video -- Roberts says it seems like "Treat People With Kindness" arrived at the precise right moment. “Most people’s comments are, ‘I’ve not felt that happy for three and a half minutes in a long time,’ or ‘I smiled from ear to ear the whole way through.’ It’s a positive light.”

He spoke to Billboard about Styles’ intensive training process -- and why he wouldn’t be surprised to see him dancing onstage again.

There’s been one pretty overwhelming reaction to this video: “This is the guy who was in the group that insisted they couldn’t dance?!” Did you expect this kind of reaction to Harry dancing? I’ve been with Harry for 10 years: I was with the One Direction boys from the beginning the whole way through their career before they took the hiatus, and they always made a very conscious decision that they didn’t want choreography as part of their brand -- but they did want a kind of disheveled organization in order to allow the cameras and the lighting to stand a chance in terms of presenting them in the best manner possible.

What was very evident to me was that all five of them, and then it obviously became four, they’ve all got their own magic. The only time I’ve experienced that was when I worked with the Spice Girls. I always knew that they had special skills aside from what they were in One Direction, whether it was movement, songwriting, being able to handle the business side of things. For such young lads they were very astute and very decisive. So, getting together with Harry -- he’s a bit of an alchemist, is Harry. Everything he turns his hand to turns to gold. Where did the initial dance-centric concept come from? Harry and the directors, Ben and Gabe [Turner], sent me a video link to the Nicholas Brothers scene from Stormy Weather and Harry asked me, "How long do you think it would take to dance like this?" I was like, "OK, are you being serious?" "Yeah, I’m being serious."

That is probably one of the most standout dance sequences ever captured on film -- so I knew we were aiming high. I said, "Why don’t we go into a studio and let’s workshop some choreography, some moves, some short sequences, and see what your ability is, see how we can tailor this to make you look the best you can possibly look." Obviously it would take some investment in terms of rehearsal and commitment, I told him it would be mentally and physically exhausting, but I thought, "My God yeah, let’s do it; this will be an adventure."

How long did the whole process take? We started in mid-January 2019, and we rehearsed and workshopped for about four to five weeks before the shoot, every day. Both Harry and Phoebe had other things going on, so, for instance, Phoebe was working on the new Bond movie in Canada, so I sent my assistant to Canada to work with her. I stayed in the U.K. with Harry, and then we went to L.A. where Harry shot two more videos, for “Watermelon Sugar” and “Falling.”

What was the process in the studio like with Harry? We didn’t even use his [vocal] track to begin with -- we used different big band songs, some contemporary alternative music. It was just about finding his [movement] language first and foremost. Then we developed the choreography and sent it to the directors, who gave us feedback. We enhanced the work a bit more, and then once we had some really solid sequences, Ben and Gabe storyboarded the scenes against the timeline of the music.

At this point Harry and Phoebe were still working separately, and then we joined forces in London, where we really started to refine these sequences of choreography we’d developed, trying to find the finesse and the style, almost making sense of the movement for them so they felt they had a dancer’s way of working the movement through the body. You’ve worked with a wide variety of artists, many of whom aren’t dancers first. How do you find, as you put it, the “language” of movement that makes sense for each of them as individuals?

I think the general answer is really communicating -- listening and understanding what the artist’s desire is. And also collaborating, so you don’t get too lost in yourself as a choreographer. What looks good on you might not transcend to the artist, or even necessarily the dancers.

With Harry, what was important within the language of the choreography was that it felt joyful and had personality. Him and Phoebe, with the work she’s done with Fleabag, you associate them and what they do with a sense of style, a real confidence, but at the heart of it it’s entertainment. And with the amount of time and budget we had, which was such a luxury in this day and age, we wanted to do something that pushed both of them out of their comfort zones. We tried to make it as athletic as possible but without compromising them as artists and becoming too comedic. We wanted it to be a bit quaint and cute in places, but we definitely didn’t want it to be thought of as nonsensical or silly.

Harry’s movement in the video is so crisp and precise, even his hands and arm extension look very dancerly. Did that come through a lot of specific work with you? As a songwriter and artist, for Harry it’s about detail, about pushing yourself to be the best. He’s always got questions: "Why are we doing that? Should we be doing this?" We got to a point during the rehearsal period where I brought in a ballet teacher, really to just get Harry and Phoebe to open themselves up from behind their shoulder blades, have an idea of extension, the lines that extend from your center all the way to the tip of your finger. I’d be saying, “Your arms Harry, your arm line!” Asking him to push his shoulders down, lift his carriage up, extend through his breast. And when he hit those lines, he’d be like, “Oh yeah, that feels different.” It’s funny: We spent a couple days apart -- he had to go off and do a gig somewhere -- and I was like, “I hope you’re rehearsing when you’ve got some downtime, dude!” And he sent me a picture in the gym with his arms in the most beautiful balletic arm line! I was like, "Yes, by George, you’ve got it!" Besides the Nicholas Brothers, did you have any particular dance references in mind for the feel of the choreography? I just delved into the MGM archives. Obviously [Fred] Astaire and [Gene] Kelly, the two greats -- especially with Astaire, we loved how sometimes it seems so effortless yet a bit throwaway, not totally totally perfect always. We enjoyed the moments from him of “I’ll just do a bit of this,” “I’ll just walk off camera left,” the dropping in and out of movement. We loved the duet “Moses Supposes” from Singin’ in the Rain, for Gene Kelly and Donald O’Connor -- we loved the camaraderie between them, which felt a bit goofball at times, and just that wry smile, the look to the left, knowing your partner is there and has got your back. It feels fizzy, it feels joyful.

And yes, there was a massive core of MGM-ism, but at the same time an absolute huge dollop of Harry-and-Phoebe-ism. It was important to us to feel a bit more contemporary, so again we stay true to Harry and Phoebe as artists. Has Harry indicated any interest in dancing more going forward?

We had a conversation back at the end of the summer about how much we enjoyed the process, and I know he was doing another project where choreography was involved, so we were just talking about it and how he felt. Coming from where he came from to what he was about to do, he felt he could be pushed even further. I don’t know if he got the bug, or if it’s just the way he is as a person, very inquisitive and wanting to keep elevating himself. There’s now been some talk on social media that it can’t be long before Harry does Broadway. What do you think?

I mean, I think with Harry Styles, anything is possible, is it not? I mean, I’m sure because he’s tasted the dance, he’ll inject that along the line in his career. It won’t necessarily be out-and-out dancing, but I guess it’s a bit like Bowie used to do, isn’t it? It’s the showmanship and presentation of the performance. Who knows? He’s just so open-minded and open-hearted — and because he’s so open it allows the universe to come back at him and he’s able to do anything he sets his mind to.

#harry styles #jan21 #paul roberts #billboard #article #tpwkmv

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moonbeamsung · 4 years

Text

Serendipitous Synergy

“I can’t believe I got stuck with you, of all people, as a dance partner.”

“What? Scared I’ll steal the spotlight?”

“In your dreams, Lee.”

member: haechan

au: dance partner and rival!haechan x gn!reader

word count: 4.9k

genre: angst, suggestive, fluff

warnings: talk of insecurities and thoughts of self-doubt, a house party, stubborn reader, smug haechan, mentions of ‘sexual tension’ in the context of a dance, kissing, slight innuendos

author’s note: As a dancer myself, this idea came to me after we learned the choreography for Thriller in class one day! And yes I know Halloween was weeks ago but shhh. It’s my first time writing an enemies to lovers au, so I would greatly appreciate any feedback about things I can improve on in the future. Without further ado, I hope you enjoy!

network tags: @neo-constellations

“...You’ll be partnered with Haechan.”

The words of your instructor seem to swallow up the dance studio you’re standing in, echoing off of the walls with a piercing sound that makes your ears ache, your gut twist, and your blood boil.

This could not be happening.

Said boy seems just as averse to the idea as you are, the corners of his mouth downturned in displeasure.

Your teacher, however, continues to rattle off the rest of the pairs, some of them a little surprising but none nearly as unexpected as the two of you being put together.

Eyes narrowed and gazes sharp as daggers, both you and Haechan turn to stare each other down.

The standoff makes everyone else in the studio uneasy, and though the other dancers aren’t unaccustomed to your endless rivalry, they fear the potential hostility of your reactions. But to their astonishment, it never escalates beyond these stinging glares directed at one another. You’re surprisingly professional about it on the outside, not letting a single swear word slip out from between your lips, while he bites back a snarky insult.

On the inside, though, you’re a mess.

Haechan has been somewhat of an enemy of yours for as long as you can remember, though by no fault of his own. No matter what you did or how hard you tried, ever since you were both young students struggling to find your footing in the artistic world, he’s always been better than you. At everything.

If you managed to nail a double pirouette, he’d step right up and do a third like it was nothing. You finally got your split? He’s already had it for a month, at least. It just wasn’t fair. You both had started dancing at the same age, at the same time, with the same amount of experience: zero.

In all honesty, Haechan had done nothing wrong. The combination of poor timing and better luck had worked against him all those years ago to brew these bitter feelings inside of your heart, rising to the surface whenever you would set foot inside the familiar studio.

These constant sentiments of inferiority took their toll on you, making you fear being compared to him above anything else. It was childish, but you couldn’t stand to be reminded of feeling completely and utterly incompetent next to him. Whenever you performed, you were grateful for the large amount of other dancers occupying the stage, leaving little opportunity for the two of you to be noticed in conjunction with one another.

Now that it’s going to be just the two of you under the bright beams of light cascading down from the rafters, dancing in close proximity, this worry is at the forefront of your mind.

You would do anything to be able to go back to your first year at the studio, when you were young enough to recognize that his skills seemed to outweigh yours, but as a carefree child you remained largely unbothered by this fact. As you got older, it was like a switch inside of you flipped and made you extra aware of each and every thing that you did. Perhaps it was the heightened self-consciousness that puberty brought combined with the already stressful lifestyle of a dancer, but something changed one day, and it was all you could think about when you saw him.

Your internal doubts always translated into being eerily quiet during practice, asking a question to clarify the movements only when it was absolutely necessary. Even your teacher noticed a shift in how you danced. Your gestures and steps lacked their usual precision, and all the confidence you had built up for so long vanished into thin air.

Not sure how to interpret your sudden silence, Haechan took it upon himself to get a word out of you in whatever way that he could, with comments and jokes and even the occasional compliment on your technique. It hardly helped, though. In fact, your constant failure to respond to his attempts created a sort of resentment in him as well, one not generated by envy or insecurity, but simply by confusion and frustration.

During practice one afternoon, you had become so fed up with him trying to talk to you that you lashed out, pushing him away with surprising strength. “Just leave me alone!” You had shouted at Haechan, but you instantly regretted it when you saw the way his eyes welled up with shiny tears, full of hurt after his genuinely good intentions had been totally rejected by their unwilling recipient. Your guilt, however, failed to overpower your stubbornness.

This sent Haechan into his own spiral of the silent treatment before he started to channel his feelings into a similar bitterness. From that day forth, you each became the other’s arch-enemy, challenging one another in any way that you possibly could inside the studio and on the stage. Your instructor, choreographers, and fellow students quickly became tired of the implicit competition that always existed between you, but what on earth could they do to stop it?

At the present moment, they’re contemplating this exact idea, along with just why your teacher thought pairing you with each other would be a good idea. She had done it with the intention of putting a long overdue partnership into action and hopefully eliminating your immature rivalry. Selfishly, she’s also very eager to see how your mutual contempt translates into movement, inwardly predicting that the tension levels will be off the charts.

Not long after, you’re dismissed from practice for the day, but not without a warning look from Haechan. Against your better judgment, you join him by the doorway once everyone else has filed out of the studio.

He clearly called you over for a reason, but you cut him off without even waiting for him to speak.

“I can’t believe I got stuck with you, of all people, as a dance partner.”

Oh, so this is how you’re acting? Two can play at that game.

“What?” He snickers, “Scared I’ll steal the spotlight?”

“In your dreams, Lee,” you scoff, already tired of his taunting attitude.

“Anyway,” his voice is stern before doing a complete 180, now a bit more gentle, “If we’re going to be dancing together for the next few weeks, we might as well be on speaking terms, don’t you think?” The expression Haechan wears on his face is the softest you’ve seen it in a long time, which is definitely saying something.

“I suppose.” Answer short and tone abrasive, you huff a lousy excuse for a goodbye before marching out and into the hallway, but he’s faster than you. You spin around to shrug off his hand from your shoulder, and it gives him the chance to tell you one last thing.

“Look, if you’re going to be like that, it’s not going to make working together any easier. We’re not little kids anymore. You can go back to hating me once this is all over, but can we at least try to put our differences aside and just cooperate for once?”

You nearly split your lip as you bite down on it, holding back a burst of aggravation at the situation you’ve been put in. “Fine.”

You have no idea how you’re going to get through all the practices and all the shows while simultaneously dealing with the boy, but one thing’s for sure: you’re going to prove that you are just as skilled, and just as talented a dancer as he is.

The next time you see him is two days later, at your first rehearsal for this dance. Your studio has always had a Halloween-themed showcase, but it wasn’t until this year that you were old enough to finally be cast in a more exclusive number. The fact that you’re no longer a part of the large group routine, always performed to the same upbeat tune and with the same easy steps, is one of the few silver linings that your duet with Haechan presents.

Faces lined with fatigue and eyes still heavy with sleep, you both arrive at the studio in the morning, duffel bags in hand, the comfy slides on your feet dragging across the hallway carpet with every step. Loud music blares from inside the room, brightly lit despite the early hour. Beside you, Haechan instantly recognizes the tune to be Michael Jackson’s Thriller, and perks up a little at the sound. Too tired to poke fun at his near obsession with the singer, you let his little celebration of the choreographer’s song choice slide.

It’s not your usual instructor that’s going to be teaching you the movements to go along with the piece, which means you have the added challenge of adapting to a different set of preferences, expectations, and choreographing style.

It’s certainly a dance that’s unlike any you’ve ever learned before.

The rehearsal starts off well, and both of you quickly catch on to the basic steps that are somewhat like those of a waltz, except they have a more sinister feel to them in order to match the spooky time of year. Facing each other but standing on opposite sides of the room, you step forward, to the side, to the back and then to the side again. On each accented beat you throw your heads back sharply, mimicking the way the neck of an inhuman creature might snap under any sort of force.

In the next section of choreography, your gazes are supposed to meet once you tilt your heads downward, slowly this time, but it’s difficult to maintain eye contact with Haechan for more than a few seconds. Maybe it’s the way he doesn’t even hesitate to stalk towards you in this part of the dance, which calls for you to circle each other like a hungry predator and its timid prey. Maybe it’s the animalistic glint in his irises that throws off your balance and makes you stumble when you see it. Or maybe it’s the fact that your rivalry with him has been entirely disregarded at the moment, brain focused solely on absorbing all of the new information and ingraining the movements into your muscle memory, nothing else.

What frightens you even more than the things that go bump in the night is that all those years you spent... well, not hating, but strongly disliking him could go to waste. It usually takes a lot of time for you to get over things like this, and in a way, you feel like you would be disappointing yourself if you let all of the agonizing feelings of self-doubt go, just like that.

These thoughts swirl around in your mind as you listen to the choreographer’s next words.

“Okay, put your hand here.”

“Like this?”

“Yes, now you’re going to drag it across him, from there to there,” she directs you with a finger, “And then he’s going to pick you up in a scissor lift.”

You’ve never done one of those before, but with some helpful guidance, you begin to have a small bit of faith in yourself that you’re capable of pulling it off. The music starts and you go from the top all the way to the part you were just taught, taking a deep breath in preparation for what’s about to happen.

Just like you had been instructed moments ago, you step very close to Haechan, right behind him, actually, and place one hand on his shoulder as you trail the other across the front of his chest, fingernails scratching the skin underneath through the flimsy t-shirt he’s wearing. You step around to stand in front of him and continue the motion, peering at him with a hesitance that melts away and into an assertive gaze once you see the apprehension in his own eyes. His skin crawls a little, not out of fear but an odd satisfaction and excitement at the feeling of you so near and the sight of your eyes bright with so much determination and dominance, lingering touch tracing the base of his neck and stimulating his nerves from head to toe.

You yelp slightly at what he does next even though you knew it was coming, your self-assured exterior evaporating only moments after it appeared. Haechan turns around and sweeps you off of your feet to hold you in his arms. In the blink of an eye, he helps you hook one of your knees behind his head as he tosses you into the air with seemingly no effort whatsoever, flipping you around to face the other way and catching you immediately after. The complicated lift makes your heart leap to the front of your throat with exhilaration, and you mentally applaud yourself for succeeding on the first try.

Haechan finds it odd that you were so willing to do this lift in the first place, since trust is a key component of partner work in dance. He can’t explain it, and neither can you, quite honestly. A small part of him, however, is glad you didn’t object to the prospect of him being directly responsible for your safety for even the most instantaneous of moments.

“Alright, so for this next part, I’m sure you’re aware of that fact that Michael Jackson was famous for his pelvic—”

Okay, that’s enough, you’ve heard enough. Tuning out the conversation and whirling around to face away from the floor-to-ceiling mirror, you twiddle your thumbs while the choreographer teaches Haechan one of the iconic dance steps in Thriller, and your evident shyness at her unabashed explanation makes him smirk. Thankfully, she has a different set of movements prepared for you.

Since when are you ever shy around him, though?

You still can’t bring yourself to watch your reflections in the glass when you practice the new part together, since he gets so into the provocative motions. His eyes seem to taunt you with the smugness they hold, and you hate the way he’s testing you. You can’t stand it, you can’t stand him, you can’t stand those eyes for all the times they send a shiver down your spine, for all the times they come alive with a beast-like glow. Those eyes can go from soft and sympathetic at times, although the moments are rare, to something else entirely. His mocking stares make your stomach turn, reminding you of why you’ve felt this way about him for so long.

But you’re scared that a new and different feeling is developing inside of you, one that’s telling you he’s not so bad, that you should give him a chance. Haechan has noticed a similar one within himself, and he begins to regret the way he immaturely perpetuated your own resentment for so long.

Even if you do end up making amends eventually, he’s not sure he’ll be willing to abandon all of the playful glances and teasing remarks with flirtatious undertones he sends your way. Do you even notice these things? If your periodic blushing is any indication, then the answer is most definitely yes.

You spend another couple of hours under the choreographer’s direction, stopping only when you had been taught each and every step from the piece’s beginning until the end. Though a Halloween-inspired performance, there’s a surprisingly large amount of eerily romantic undertones within it. You don’t have enough fingers to count the number of times you ultimately caress some part of the other’s body in a forbidding manner, with locked eyes and threatening, fiery glares.

The two of you also have a second but more simple lift, in which you jump and Haechan catches you by the legs to pull your torso against his, while you cling to him tightly like a koala. He supports your weight fully, and never once does the possibility of falling cross your mind. It’s strange how your body is so trusting of him, much more so than your mind.

Towards the end of the song, the lyrics mention something about cuddling close together, the timing of your movements intentionally mirroring the words. Haechan walks in a circle, still carrying you in his arms, and unlike when you’re standing on your own two feet, he actually has to look up slightly to meet your gaze with his own. Something doesn’t feel quite right, though, both of you sensing that you should be putting more effort into the eye contact between you right now.

“No, no, no! Stop for a second.” Your choreographer looks frustrated.

“You have to look at each other like you really mean it,” she corrects. “Just imagine that you’re two lovers on Halloween night, clinging to each other for dear life as you’re being surrounded by every kind of monster imaginable.” Even Haechan flushes a deep red at the descriptive picture she paints in your minds, hoping to inspire you. “Try again, please.”

Putting every necessary emotion into your expressions, you both stare each other down as he lifts you up again, this time with a never-before-seen passion burning in your eyes that could only be described as crazed, lustful desire.

Haechan has always admired your skills, although internally these days, ever since he met you, especially your ability to easily adapt to the message or tone of a piece. Happiness, sadness, anger, whatever your instructor asked of you, you could embody the exact feeling on your face, not to mention in the way that you moved to the beat. Out of all of the scenarios your choreographer could have illustrated, this one is something he never would have expected you to be so ready for. He’s taken aback by how smoothly your facial expression transitions from sheepish to seductive in no time flat.

You wish you could say that you’re not flustered by how well he matches the look in your eyes with his own tantalizing gaze, but alas, that’s not the case.

It’s undoubtedly a dance with a more mature theme than either of you are used to, but you’re both such naturals at it that she compliments you once Haechan sets you back on the ground.

“That’s exactly what I want to see! Keep it up, you two. Are you sure you’ve never been in a piece with any sexual tension before?”

You’re glad you hadn’t quite taken a sip from your water bottle yet, because you definitely would’ve spit it out from pure shock and embarrassment at the bluntness of her remark. Haechan was not so lucky.

The two of you run through the dance almost endlessly, and by the end of your rehearsal your legs are threatening to give out at any moment. “Last time,” she alerts you, “And then you’re done for the day.”

A chorus of some minor corrections but mostly proud affirmations meets your ears as you practice the piece for the final time. “Other foot, Haechan... Strong arms! Good... And lift! That’s it...”

About to collapse from exhaustion and grimacing at the disgusting feeling of sweat on every inch of your skin, both of you thank the choreographer once she dismisses you.

“You two did a great job today, now go home and rest. You worked hard.”

Fishing your car keys out of your bag, you hear her packing up her things inside the studio before she exits the room and strides into the hallway, flipping the light switch and shutting the door behind her. “I’m going to recommend to your teacher that she should partner you up more often. I was really surprised by how well you collaborated.” She chuckles a little, “And to think she told me that you might not get along.”

Exchanging questioning looks, you both nod and smile at her before she makes her way down the hallway, leaving the building through the staff door.

“What was that all about?”

“No idea,” you reply to Haechan with nervousness in your voice, not sure if this is the right time to apologize for several years’ worth of constantly being at each other’s throats.

The moment passes before you can make a decision, and Haechan bids you farewell with a “See you around” over his shoulder. You can’t get the choreographer’s comment out of your mind as you drive home.

But she’s right: your chemistry with each other is unbelievable. Each time you practice this dance in front of them, the rest of your friends stand wide-eyed and open-mouthed at how you move in perfect unison, leaping and turning and touching at all the right moments. Your instructor is sure her jaw is on the floor. Sure, she was expecting something powerful, something fierce, but nothing like this.

The weeks leading up to the Halloween showcase are hectic, as they always are, filled with the rush of adrenaline and last-minute preparations being made, ensuring that everything would be ready for those long nights spent on waiting behind the curtains, moving amidst the stage fog, and dancing below the bright spotlights.

You think you’ve spoken to Haechan more in the past 4 days than you have in the past 4 years. He doesn’t know if it’s just his imagination, but it seems like you’ve gotten more comfortable performing with him as time has gone by. Maybe he should be paying more attention to the steps instead of the way you lean further into him as he clutches your form in his strong arms, torsos pressing into one another and the crevices of your bodies aligning with ease. Maybe he shouldn’t get distracted by the closeness of your lips to his forehead, by the distance that always seems to decrease each time you run through the dance. One day he’s sure he’ll feel their delicate curve against his skin, or maybe they’ll slip down a little to be more level with his. Either way, Haechan isn’t complaining.

The rehearsals that spill over from their scheduled time slots into the late hours of the night leave everyone in the show drowsy after the intense quantities of repeated exertion, running piece after piece over and over again until just standing up is a feat within itself.

And then, all of a sudden, it’s the day of the first show. Costumes have been tailored, makeup has been applied and hair has been done up with an ungodly amount of products and pins.

It can’t be much longer until it’s your turn to perform, so you’re not sure why you find yourself grabbing Haechan by the sleeve of his intentionally tattered shirt, meant to look like that of a zombie, and pulling him into a dark, secluded corner of the backstage area.

“We’re on in 5, what are y—”

“Can I apologize?”

He blinks a few times, processing the word he never thought he would hear leave your lips.

“For... huh?”

“Everything.” You’re thankful that the lighting is minimal back here, concealing the glistening water drops that are beginning to gather at the rims of your eyes.

Voice nearly breaking, you can’t articulate why it feels like the right time to say all of this. But here you are.

“I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry for so many years of unexplained anger and outbursts towards you, I’m sorry that I’ve been acting so immature even after all this time. I’m sorry for blaming you and making excuses to justify my actions and my feelings, I—”

You have more that you want to say but the words are no longer coming out, and maybe it’s because your throat feels like it’s burning from all of the emotion it just conveyed in the span of just a few seconds. Maybe it’s because you’ve somehow lost your voice even though you hadn’t been speaking above a whisper. But the most probable cause of them all, is this: maybe it’s because you’ve been rendered speechless by Haechan’s own apology that he delivers by messily crashing his mouth into yours, any further thoughts melting away against his soft lips.

For once, you don’t mind being cut off by him if it’s like this.

His heart begins to sink when you pull away after only a few seconds, but a small smile graces his features once again as you lean in so that your lips hover next to his ear.

“You better not mess up my makeup, Lee Haechan.”

“Donghyuck, actually.”

“What?” Quizzically, you arch an eyebrow.

“My name. My real name.”

“So why do y—”

“Shh, no time. Kiss now, talk later.”

You can’t argue with that. Not when he’s beholding you with a long-awaited forgiveness and a fondness long-concealed in his eyes. Not when the thrill of a time limit has your brains going a mile a minute, an electric buzz erupting over the expanse of your skin his hands are grasping.

You kiss him like it’s the only thing in the whole world that you know how to do. The setting is far from picturesque, with the tangled technical wires littering the floor at your feet and leftover stage equipment haphazardly leaning against the wall, but neither of you really care. Taking care not to snag the fabric of your costume, his fingers find purchase on your waist and his lips on the dip of your collarbone. At first they dotingly imprint fleeting pecks onto the rise and fall of the skin there, but when their pressure and his haste starts to escalate, you know you have to stop him before he starts something you can’t finish.

“Hyuck!” The abbreviation of his name makes his head snap up, bewildered but pleased.

“You can’t leave marks, I told you...” you trail off. “Hey, why are you smiling like that?”

“Please never call me anything else, ever.”

Donghyuck brings you in for one more kiss, well aware that a stagehand could turn the corner at any given moment. Drinking you in, he captures your lips between his, letting your body press his back into the wall behind him, and a few sharp inhales later, you break apart.

You fix his hair while he adjusts your clothes, and you’re just in time because a technician spots you and urgently gestures towards the stage. “You’re up!”

Positioning yourselves on opposite sides of the large performance space, the lights go down and you hear the rush of air from the heavy curtain opening as it glides past you. The thick artificial smoke partially obscures his form, but you can see his eyes clearly, nearly glowing in the darkness.

As the music starts, slow and quiet at first, you step to the rhythm just like you practiced. When a loud, electronic chord blares, you both pick up speed, launching into that waltz step you first learned many weeks earlier. For the first time ever, you’re able to look into his eyes.

Anyone could see that your movements complement each other effortlessly, but only your teacher picks up on the shift in mood after the countless times she’s seen you perform in the studio. Only she notices the shift in both of your gazes. You look... happy. Focused. Confident.

Donghyuck was able to bring you out of the shell you retreated into so long ago. You don’t feel subordinate as you’re dancing next to him, or being held in his arms. You move as equals, two parts of a whole.

When he picks you up, you can’t help but allow a small smile to stretch your lips. Donghyuck tries to remind you that you’re supposed to have lustful looks in your eyes by narrowing his own at you, but it’s no use. Your slight grin is contagious, and it ends up taking over his face as well.

You finish the piece smoothly, ending in a pose with your backs pressed together and hands clasped. Applause erupts from the audience, and a few cheers come from the rest of the performers waiting in the wings, shielded from the view of the crowd sitting in the seats below.

Needless to say, as you pass other dancers in the halls and receive countless congratulations and compliments, all you can think about is having Donghyuck’s lips on your skin again.

One long heart-to-heart and dozens, no, hundreds of kisses later, all is right with your world. It’s foreign territory to you both, not wanting to pounce on each other at every waking moment. But it’s something you’ll explore together, figuring out how to make up for lost time and just how to go about this newly-repaired relationship.

Exiting the empty dressing room, you take his hand in your own and head backstage once again to watch the rest of the showcase from the side, with your head leaning on his shoulder and his arm pulling you close.

At the party held for all the members of the show’s cast that night, it’s far too loud for your liking, and there’s no room to properly dance with Donghyuck. Despite you all being professional dancers-in-training, everyone else seems to have reverted to the mindset of your average high school student, thinking that jumping up and down repeatedly qualifies as dancing. You disagree, but whatever. It’s not important.

What is important, however, is the fact that the two of you would much rather escape the suffocating crowd of young adults. You would much rather slip out through the sliding glass door that leads to the house’s backyard, marveling at the fading sunset that melts into a deep blue night sky dotted with splashes of clustered lights. The stars are nature’s spotlights, shining down on you as Donghyuck takes you in his arms, one hand finding yours and the other resting on your side, somewhere between your hips and your waist.

Swaying in the silence with only the noises of the evening as your soundtrack, the boy that you would’ve sworn was the devil incarnate a month ago looks so angelic, so lovable. You can’t believe this is what you’ve been missing out on.

“So, should we start over?”

“Definitely.”

There’s no one else in this world you’d rather dance the night away with.

383 notes · View notes

lunarmessenger · 4 years

Note

Hi!!!!!!!! I just love jealous RFA so what their (plus minor duo but only if it’s not too much) reaction would be if girl confessed and they thought it’d be for RFA but turns out it’s for MC? And I love your chibi drawings that’s so precious >~<

Ohho, aren’t you precious? I actually love this concept omg thank you so much for your request!! Sorry it took me a bit to get it written out ;;; - luna xx

warnings: none really? just a bit of jealousy and possessiveness haha

Zen:

• He’s literally so butt hurt

• He’s so used to admirers swarming the two of you to get his autograph or try to pine for his number

• While he gladly gives autographs for fans and even pictures, he always respectfully declined those who asked for his number

• He just loved seeing the slight tint of red on your cheeks when you got jealous and that’s why he wasn’t normally so forceful of telling other people no when they asked for his number

• Until one day you had went to go grab some water during one of Zen’s breaks at rehearsal

• One of his coworkers, a beautiful woman with long black hair and the perfect figure strolled up she reminded him a bit of Jumin honestly

• He was actually a little nervous to tell her no because he didn’t want to cause a scene but he would do it for you because he loves you

• So he begrudgingly held out his hand and she plops a piece of paper into it, a smirk on her face as he takes a deep breath

• “Look, I know that you and I work together but that doesn’t mean I’m available—”

• “Tell them that when they’re done with you, they should give me a call.”

• That’s when it clicks for him as he notices the way her dark eyes loom over your approaching figure, her tongue licking her lips as she winks at him then walks away

• He’s so infuriated that it hurts

• “Everything okay, Zen?”

• He rips the paper into so many pieces you didn’t even think that was possible

• “How about you go home, MC; I’ll tell you about it later.”

• You laughed for ages and teased him about it for weeks because, well

• “You’re not the only hot one in this relationship, Zen.”

Yoosung

• He’s always super bashful when girls in his class try to ask him out because he rarely finds himself attractive

• You were the same in a way; you were more confident than him, but still shy when people complimented you

• So while the two of you are on his campus, you holding flashcards in front of him to help him study

• You started to smile at a girl that approached the two of you, cheeks blazing pink as she stuttered over her words

• Her blue eyes were wide as she tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, looking as if she was taking deep breaths to calm herself

• “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I’ve seen you both around for a while, and I just…well…”

• Yoosung turns just as pink, brows furrowing as he stutters over his words too

• “I appreciate it but I am taken!”

• For a moment the girl furrows her brows in confusion, adjusting the straps of her backpack as she tilts her head

• “Um…okay? Anyway, I think you’re really attractive and so; please accept my letter!”

• Both of your jaws drop as she kneels down and hands the letter towards you, hands trembling as you take it and nod

• “Aha, um…thank you?”

• She scurries off before you can even turn it over, and when you do you see your name written in beautiful penmanship surrounded by hearts

• Before you can even open it, Yoosung has snatched it out of your hands

• “Wha—Yoosung!”

• His purple eyes were clouded with anger as he rips it to shreds, an almost growl escaping his lips as he grunts

• “You’re mine. No need to read this letter when it’s gonna end up in the trash.”

• You couldn’t help but laugh at his possessiveness, tackling him in a hug and peppering his face with kisses as you shook your head.

• “What am I going to do with you?”

Jaehee

• She’s not the jealous type usually

• Like you can mention in passing that you were hit on and it won’t phase her a bit

• When it happens in front of her though? That’s a bit different;;;;

• Men tend to hit on the both of you often so that doesn’t phase her much but when it’s women?? Uh oh

• A really sweet woman was frequenting the bakery often; she would always get the same treat and the same drink, sitting at a table by the window

• She was quite pretty; short curly hair and tanned skin that had been specially kissed by the sun

• Jaehee was making the coffee for the next order when you’d gone to check on every table, stopping at hers and asking if she’d like another

• “No, thank you but…I was wondering. Would you like to go out for dinner some time?”

• Before you’d had a chance to respond you heard the sound of ceramic crashing, the mug Jaehee was holding now in pieces on the floor as she looked in your direction

• “Ah, while I’m flattered, I do have a girlfriend…;;;”

• The woman was understanding, putting two and two together as Jaehee rushed to pick up the mug and stomped into the back area

• “Jaehee! Jae, omg why are you so mad please—”

• “Because you’re my partner and how dare she think for a second that—”

• You interrupted her with a kiss and that shut her up quickly

• “You should be possessive more often. I actually like it…”

• “Shut up, MC.”

Jumin

• He has plenty of women in the business world that try to win his heart even though you’ve already done that lol

• So he’s actually quite surprised when you join him for a business meeting and he notices one of the women staring at you

• It’s so painfully obvious he’s actually offended that she isn’t hiding it

• She peers up at you through her bangs that frame her face, short hair styled perfectly as she leans back in her office chair

• Jumin couldn’t even focus and in minutes the meeting was over and she was instantly at your side

• “What?” He’s stunned, watching as she gently takes your hand in hers and kisses it

• “I’ve heard plenty about you, MC. While I’m sure Jumin appreciates you as a business asset, I would love to get to know you on a more personal level.”

• He is livid

• Before you can respond he’s wrapped an arm around you and snatched you away from her, a smirk on her face as he frowns at her

• “I’d appreciate if you let their hand go. We have business to tend to; at home. Come along, MC.”

• “Jumin oh—” He has you pressed so close to him that you can smell his cologne, your face flushed from embarrassment as she grins

• “It was nice meeting you!”

• Jumin scoffs as he escorts you out of the meeting room

• You’re shocked; he’s never lost control like that, not even when men would make passes at you during events or dinner parties

• “So, what was that?”

• “We will not be discussing this, MC. Now, would you like French, or Italian for lunch?”

• You grin as you get in the elevator with him, pressing a small kiss to his cheek

• “No matter what, Jumin. You’re the one for me.”

707

• He makes so many jokes about the women that fawn over him that he too his stunned when a woman confesses their love for you

• It was during an RFA party, and you’d worn a particularly flattering outfit that accentuated all the right places

• He was watching you from afar when he noticed a woman with equal beauty walk up to you, long blonde hair and brown eyes drinking you in as she slightly leaned against you

• “Oh, it looks like I’ve had too much to drink; maybe you’d like to take me home? I’ve been an admirer of yours for a while…”

• You’re so embarrassed that you don’t know what to say; a clutter of “ums” and “uhs” leaving your mouth as you tried to make sure she didn’t fall

• With you holding her up it gave her a chance to press against you even more so much so that you could feel and see most of her chest oh god Saeyoung help me

• “Oh~ I am also way too drunk and love showing off my boobs to make people like me!”

• You immediately drop the woman in shock when you see your boyfriend waltzing towards you in a dress, a long red wig swishing behind him as he lands on you

• It couldn’t be helped; you were laughing so hard that you nearly fell over, Saeyoung grinning as he sneered at the woman who looked at the two of you in confusion

• “Wait…what?”

• “Oh! I’m sorry miss um, but uh, this is my boyfriend—”

• “Who happily takes them home every night so if you’d please let us be that would be the most polite!” He says in a sing song voice, placing a hand on your chest as you snort

• You’d never seen a woman walk away so fast in your life

• “Good riddance…how classless.”

• “Saeyoung you literally put on a dress just to be petty.”

• “That’s different MC.”

• He receives admirers from all over who adore mainly his work; and it doubles when they realize how handsome the painter is

• During an exhibition he’d gathered a rather large crowd, mostly women which wasn’t surprising

• It didn’t bother you much; you trusted V, and he always made it clear that he was happy in his relationship with you to all of the women who tried to grow close to him

• You’d gone to a different section of the gallery to take a minute to yourself, staring at V’s painting of you that he’d done with a fond smile

• “While he is talented, he surely will never be able to capture the beauty of the real thing.”

• You turned your head in surprise to see a woman staring at you, red lips and sharp green eyes piercing as she held out a glass of champagne towards you

• “Oh, well um…thank you.”

• “Of course. I understand the appeal to him but…I like to think that his partner is much more enticing.”

• You couldn’t help but blush as you stared at your bubbling champagne

• Then, the familiar smell of lavender and cedar danced across your nose, your head turning to see V approaching

• “You’re absolutely right, miss. They are the most enticing, and that’s why I made them mine. Now, if you’ll excuse us.”

• He plucks the champagne out of your hand and places it on the bench beside you, whisking you away while the woman pouts and hurries off

• “Um, V?”

• He hides the two of you in a dark hallway, closed off from the gallery as he presses you against the wall

• “I don’t know how you do this all the time MC; that was painful for me to see. Promise me that I’m the only one you’ll ever look at?”

• You giggle as you wrap your arms around the back of his neck, pressing your forehead against his as you whisper

• “I promise. She’s no match for you, my love.”

• He seals the promise with a kiss, savoring your taste as he breathes out

• “Let’s just stay like this for a little longer…”

Saeran

• He’s so shy already that when he receives confessions from women he literally shuts down

• It’s even worse when women confess their love to you like what???

• He understands because he’s knows that you’re beautiful and that you’re such an amazing person

• But you’re also his like excuse me?

• You’re enjoying your lunch in the park that you always take once a week

• You were sketching in your journal while he explained the different plants you were seeing; it was one of your favorite pass times to do before it got too late

• The two of you were unaware that your sketching and laughter had gained the attention of another, who was working up the courage to confess

• She’d finally gained said courage, walking up with a brand new journal as she cleared her throat

• “Um…excuse me?”

• You both turned your eyes towards her, freckles dotting her shy face as she handed the book to you

• “I always see you drawing and, well, you’re really good. So I wanted you to have this.”

• You were shocked; such kindness from a stranger. But this was a gift you couldn’t accept.

• “Oh, thank you so much! But I can’t accept this, really because—”

• “Because I am their boyfriend.” You didn’t expect him to speak up, head snapping towards him in surprise

• He wasn’t angry just more apologetic; he’d experienced the same fear of rejection when he was pursuing you and he knew that what she was feeling wasn’t good

• “Oh, I see. Okay. Well, I’ll leave you two alone then.”

• She walked away dejected while he reached for your hand

• “I think I’ve just experienced jealousy and I didn’t like it much.”

• You giggled, resting your head in his lap as you looked at him

• “You handled it graciously, darling. Let’s enjoy the sun then head home.”

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flooffybits · 4 years

Text

I Feel I Love You

Idol: Kim Bora (Dreamcatcher)

Anon: - How bout 8th member partnering up w/ Sua for a special stage, while theyre practicing together theres a moment where they get like faces inches apart close, they get lost staring at each other, things get awkward, the girls get worried bc theyre normally close, reader confesses to sua who doesnt answer. Theyre performing, the inches apart moment comes, sua whispers she likes reader back, the fans are curious about wat sua said and they just give each other this knowing look. tnx for ur time 😊

☕buy me a coffee☕

Concerts were always nerve wracking and gave all of you such an adrenaline rush even before you could get on stage. During rehearsals, you could hardly stay seated as your nerves go haywire. There was always something about the whole thing that made you feel so alive and yet a tiny bit scared at the same time.

But like usual, you would always prepare a special stage with either one or two of your members and it appears that Bora decided that you would be her partner this time around when you were all discussing your lineup before tour started.

Gahyeon laughed at the helpless look on your face, teasing you since she knew just how flustered you would get around your older member. Siyeon had bid you good luck because knowing Bora, there was no way that your performance wouldn’t be extreme or over the top.

She liked to be flashy and extravagant, so you weren’t even surprised as she picked KARD’s Red Moon for your stage together. You had no doubt in her abilities of making this performance exciting, not only for you, but for your fans as well.

The first week, you were both stuck in the practice room, exchanging ideas and switching the actual choreography with your own little twists and it was hard to say but your little crush became not so little with the amount of time you had to spend with each other.

Add to the fact that you were way closer together when you danced compared to the actual choreography. Her hands would sometimes brush against your waist or she would encourage you with putting yours on her hips.

You sure earned a couple whistles and screams from your members whenever they watched the two of you practice. Handong had exclaimed at one point, asking if it really was you she was seeing and you playfully swatted her arm for teasing you, your face already red from practice, but the quick glance to your partner had only made it redder.

While Minji and Yubin were practicing their own performance, you took a quick break and laid down next to Bora as she wiped her face and handed you a bottle of water. “You look like you’re getting better and better with this dance.” She commented with a wide grin and you shake your head while placing the cool bottle on your neck to cool down.

“I’ve been practicing.” You panted as you let your arms drop to the floor and the older girl giggled before she looked at you. “Well, it’s nice that you are, but I hope you aren’t overworking yourself.” She says while reaching out to grab your towel and then wiping your forehead, keeping your hair from sticking to your forehead.

The action made you relax under her touch and you close your eyes with a soft hum coming from your lips and Bora smiles at your relaxed expression. “I’m not. I don’t think an argument with you or Jiu unnie is worth the exhaustion.” You comment, making the older girl laugh as she gave you a playful push.

“You better not be lying because it’s your butt.” She said threateningly as you stick your tongue out playfully. “You like my butt though.” The comment made her smirk before giving you a light pat. “I like all your butts, you’re not special.” She joked as you swatted her hand away and laughed as she pretend to try and reach for you again.

Gahyeon crinkled her nose at the two of you before squeaking when Bora managed to land a smack on your butt. “That was loud.” The maknae’s eyes widened when you sat up with a screech and Bora laughed loudly in amusement as you repeatedly hit her arm.

Yoohyeon shook her head while Handong giggled at your expression when Bora refused to apologize and even went to hit you again.

On the day of your performance, you and Bora had gotten much closer than you already were and your nerves were getting the best of you. The only difference was, you weren’t nervous because you were performing in front of all these people. What kept you anxious was the fact that you would have to dance with Bora, alone, without your members next to you.

You were sure you had gotten way too flustered on the many practices you had together, but Bora always brushed it off as you merely getting tired from all the practicing because you would also rehearse your group performances along with your special stage.

“Come on, Y/n, last practice before the big show.” Bora happily told you when she hopped to her feet and waved you over when your manager went to play the song for you as you both got into positions.

Your members sat in front of you as you both began to move with the flow of the music, movements sharp and hitting every beat right while your expressions were as fierce as ever while your members screamed and hollered just like your fans usually would while they also filmed for Dreamcatcher’s Note as a behind the scenes.

You both moved with precision and there was no denying the talent you both had radiating from you. Siyeon screamed in exaggeration when your hands grabbed Bora from behind and her back pressed flush against your front during one of the parts you decided to switch up just to hype the crowd up.

But when the older woman turned to look at you, a bright smile stretched across her face, you couldn’t help but admire just how beautiful she looked up close and the words fell from your lips before you even realized it.

“God, I’m in love with you.”

Your words caused both of you to stop moving and your face paled when you held your breath and her expression flattened until you weren’t sure what was going through her mind. Bora had stopped moving as well, staring at you as your members watched on, both confused and worried as you stared each other down.

You just wanted the ground to swallow you and get you out of the awkward situation you placed yourself in, but there was no getting out of this. “I-”

“Let’s try it one more time, sorry about that.” Bora didn’t even wait as she went back to the first position and Gahyeon cast you a worried look as you swallowed thickly and went to position, doing your best to keep a straight face.

But knowing that you may have just ruined your relationship with the older girl, you found it hard to keep your thoughts on the performance and stumbled a few times before catching yourself, worrying the girls further when Bora refused to speak or even look at you.

You did your best to stay away, got your makeup and clothes ready in silence, speaking with your other members when they approached you and you plastered on your best smile to seem unfazed about what happened between you and the dancer, unaware of her eyes following after you when you weren’t aware.

Finally, it was time to take the stage and you sucked in a deep breath, adjusting your jacket as the lights dimmed and the sound of your fans screaming greeted your ears when you went into position.

Despite what happened off stage, you did your best to push it aside and focused on the performance instead of the weight on your shoulders. Fans yelled as you threw them playful little smirks and did certain moves before it finally came to the same part where you had successfully embarrassed yourself in front of Bora.

But much to your surprise, her hand reached out and grasped at the collar of your shirt, tugging you closer to her so your noses barely brushed against each other and her expression grew soft for just a split second.

“I thought I made it clear that I was already in love with you.”

She let a smirk creep up her lips just to feed the crowd further with her charisma and stage presence, but everyone near enough could see that her lips didn’t move in time with the song, making them wonder just what the dancer said because your dumbfounded expression made them even more curious before you went back with the same grinning expression you wore since the beginning of the performance.

It wasn’t a surprise for fans to be asking about what happened during your performance, making up stories and theories while others were merely talking about how well the performance went in general.

But when you were all finally home and freshened up in the dorm, ready to get some sleep, Bora wasn’t too surprised to see you walk into her and Yoohyeon’s room. “Yoohyeon stole Dami again.” You complain as you collapse on the bed and lay next to the shorter woman, your face buried in her pillows as she laid on her side and grinned at you.

“So you’re only here because you don’t have Dami? And here I thought you came here because you were finally going to ask me out.” She teased as her fingers gently ran through your hair before resting on the small of your back when you turned your head to look at her, eyes narrowed. “You’re older, shouldn’t you be the one asking me?” You shot back before she tutted.

“A queen does not ask. A queen only receives proposals.” She grinned at you before you huffed and rolled your eyes. “Thinking about marriage already. Are you sure that you’re not rushing things, unnie?”

The brunette pinched your side lightly, making you squirm before she scoffed. “You can be so unromantic, you know that?” She asked you before you laughed and lifted your head to place a light kiss at the corner of her lips and then laying back down, though this time with your head on her chest.

“As unromantic as I am, you like me anyway.” She blinks down at you for a while before a little smile appeared on her face as she let her fingers tangle with your hair, noting how your eyes were slowly beginning to shut as she hummed lightly. “I guess I can’t argue with that one.” She murmured before reaching over to turn the desk lamp off.

While she was used to falling asleep when once the sun peeked through her curtains, seeing you sleeping peacefully beside her made Bora feel lighter and unlike most nights, decided that turning in early wasn’t too bad.

She had you to hold, anyway.

#girl group #girl group scenarios #girl group imagines #dreamcatcher #dreamcatcher scenarios #dreamcatcher imagines #dreamcatcher jiu #dreamcatcher sua #dreamcatcher siyeon #dreamcatcher handong #dreamcatcher yoohyeon #dreamcatcher dami #dreamcatcher gahyeon #sua dreamcatcher #kim bora #sua #kim sua #sua scenarios #sua imagines

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written-by-ariddletobesolved · 3 years

Text

conceal, but feel.

Rated G

Hans and Elsa partnered up in Strictly Come Dancing. Based on an AU-gust prompt for day 3: Dance. Could easily pass as a submission for Helsa Week 2021 day 2: Soulmate. Sorry if it seems rushed. The soulmate prompt: warm when near, cold when apart.

—

Conceal, don't feel.

She repeats the mantra over and over inside her head. It has become her new routine ever since she joined this talent show. Performing in front of people hasn't really been a huge problem for her, being a West End star and all, but when there's a certain someone who slowly but surely gets under her skin? Goodness, she would need all the luck she could get.

They might get off on the wrong foot when they first met, but it isn't the reason why she can't get him out of her head. It's another side of him she didn't know existed. That and, what her sister Anna likes to point out every time she drops her off to the studio, the tension (complete with stars emojis if we want to properly quote the younger sister).

But the past few days, she begins to notice a slight change in their dynamics, and not just them as dancing partners. The usual annoyance for him slightly recedes after he got sick, and after learning that he lives on his own, Anna suggested that she should probably pay him a visit. Seeing the vulnerable side of him makes her realise something. She actually enjoys his company more than she likes to admit, and that they both struggle with a similar thing.

However, when he placed his hand on her waist, or earlier when he subtly pressed a kiss on the exposed skin of her neck when they were practicing (they did a Rumba that week)—good Lord, were his lips really touching her?—those gestures are enough to make her stomach flutter with something like an excitement.

What was that? She wonders.

Conceal, don't feel.

The close proximity, every time they're around each other, sparks some heat, and she feels like burning. But the moment they walk away from each other, the heat slowly leaves her body and the familiar cold resides.

Does this mean—no, she quickly stops, it's just a silly story mother told us. Or is it?

"Elsa?"

At the mention of her name, she stops packing and turns to her dancing partner. He looks so dashing in his dark blue jacket, this Elsa has to admit, and his emerald eyes are gazing at her with comfort. The look on his face is nothing like on the first day when they got partnered up. He doesn't look so smug or full of himself. Instead, he looks so relaxed and calm, something she has seen more frequently now.

"Yes?"

He takes a step closer, hands inside his pockets. Their height differences seem visible now, especially since she has traded her heeled shoes for a more comfortable pair of loafers, as she is ready to go home.

"I," he pauses, and Elsa tilts her head to the side. It's not everyday she finds him this nervous. If anything, this man seems to always know what to do all the time. But she remains silent. Maybe it's not the right time for a banter.

"You know, there's a good coffee shop near the dance studio that I think you might like. Maybe we can, or you can go there and grab some coffee before the rehearsal."

Conceal, don't feel.

But before she can reply, he quickly adds, "Or I can grab some coffee for you. Not that I was telling you to go grab some for us. I know that's more like my job,"

She finds his rambling amusing, and the fact that he is trying to hide it still actually helps her to loosen up. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Besides, if things don't work out, she can pretend nothing happened, just like she usually does. She is good at pretending.

Conceal, but feel.

"Sure."

He stops for a second, raising his eyebrow in something like disbelief. He seems trying to hide his excitement, as he nods and says, "Great! Does tomorrow at ten sound good?"

"Yes," she replies, and when is about to turn back, she calls, "and Hans?"

"Ja?"

"Try not to spill some, this time."

"Look, if it's about your mother's Gucci bag."

Elsa grins, taking him by surprise. "It's not, don't worry. Just relax, Hans, I'll see you tomorrow."

He breathes in relief. Composing himself, he flashes her a smile. "See you."

If she wants to be honest, she is not really sure about his intentions, but without denying the chemistry between them, Elsa is willing to give him a chance. Who knows, maybe something good will come out of it.

#helsa #helsa fanfiction #elsa x hans #iceburns #queen elsa #prince hans #frozen #ariddletobesolved #mary's writing

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kingstylesdaily · 4 years

Text

How Harry Styles Found His Inner Dancer For 'Treat People With Kindness'

He spoke to Billboard about Styles’ intensive training process -- and why he wouldn’t be surprised to see him dancing onstage again.

At the end of the “Watermelon Sugar” shoot, he wrapped, got in his car, came to the dance studio and we rehearsed into the night. Knowing how short a time you sometimes get with artists even for really big performances, I thought the rehearsals would dilute and we’d lose momentum, but both Phoebe and Harry were so committed. What was the process in the studio like with Harry? We didn’t even use his [vocal] track to begin with -- we used different big band songs, some contemporary alternative music. It was just about finding his [movement] language first and foremost. Then we developed the choreography and sent it to the directors, who gave us feedback. We enhanced the work a bit more, and then once we had some really solid sequences, Ben and Gabe storyboarded the scenes against the timeline of the music.

via billboard.com

#kingstylesdaily #Harry Styles #hs: tpwk #January 2021 #hs: news

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havethetimeofyourstyles · 3 years

Text

Chapter Seven.

a/n: hello! this is the last chapter of book 1! thank you for the few who had read and left me nice messages and feedback, i truly appreciate it with all my heart. the next chapter will be posted in two weeks from now. also, please please please reblog and leave feedback for the content you’re consuming for free; it truly helps motivate content creators to keep posting. for now, enjoy this chapter <3

SERIES MASTERLIST | word count: 17.7k

warnings: sexual content, panic attack, and mentions of drug use (from minor character)

come talk to me about WTSGD! i’d love to know your thoughts!

June 2, 2018

Hot grainy sand seeped in between the crevices of their toes as they ran around, chasing one another while the hot sun shined brightly on their backs. An in sync laughter erupted through them as Luci had jumped on Harry, causing him to fall back on the sand.

They were a picture-perfect moment, simply consumed by one another that envisioning life without the other was pure torture.

June was the last month of her break before she was off to Singapore to film for Crazy Rich Asians. Throughout the entire month of May, she was booked between rehearsing with her acting coach and auditioning for this role. The entire process didn’t take as long as Ocean’s Eight since they’d given her the role within a week and a half of just auditioning for it. She was entirely surprised at how quick it was to make that decision, but Samantha had told her that her talent had gone a long way and they wanted her. Luci was absolutely thrilled, and she was at a place where she didn’t feel pressured or overwhelmed with the workload. Thea and Samantha were gems to work with; they both made sure and asked several times if she wanted to take on another project right after finishing her first one, and Luci realized why shouldn’t she? Opportunities aren’t usually thrown at her this fast, so she took the chance and landed the role.

However, taking on another role just meant she’d have to leave again, meaning she’d have to be apart from Harry. Luci, in a way, would call herself selfless to where she would give up her dream if her loved one asked her to; but she had the tendency to make impulsive decisions without consulting everyone that was going to be affected by her long but temporary absence. Such as Harry and her family. Her family, as she knew, would tell her to go for it and that she shouldn’t worry about them when she had another opportunity lined up for her. As for Harry, she hadn’t thought about the fact that they were going to be apart for another four or five months. She didn’t think about the fact that she was spending the majority of their relationship apart from him and in different time zones. She didn’t think about him when she immediately said yes to taking on another project.

The anxiety had crept up on her when she told Harry the news, and just like the supportive boyfriend that he was, he was absolutely thrilled and excited for her. She hadn’t matched his excitement, and that was when he knew something was wrong.

“Talk to me, Ci.” He rubbed her back comfortingly.

“We’re gonna be apart again,” she said sadly. “I don’t wanna do this.”

Harry took a deep breath. “Don’t wanna do…us?”

“No. I don’t wanna work if we’re going to be apart. I wanna stay with you.” Her eyes were filled with tears. Her voice was heavy as she felt like her throat was closing in on her. Harry saw and felt the ache she had felt in her heart. And all the same, it broke his heart.

“You have to do this job.” Luci looked at him with sad eyes, half hoping he wouldn’t have said that.

“But…”

“My love, do you realize what this could mean? That movie is going to be huge. Just imagine all the people you’d work with if you took on this role. Your name is going to spread like wildfire after that!” His tone was hopeful and supportive, everything she could ever want in a partner. “Please tell me you won’t quit this job. Your dreams are finally coming true, why stop now?”

“Because I wanna be with you.”

“You are with me! I appreciate you wanting to be with me because trust me, I really want you by my side all the time, but don’t worry about me, okay? You’re not going to lose me.” He shook his head, looking so deeply into Luci’s eyes as if he were engraving his words into her mind.

All she did was nod, not trusting her voice to mutter out a response. She trusted Harry wholeheartedly, with her entire life. Later that evening, she told Thea that she was one hundred percent committed to the movie.

They had about three weeks to spend as much time together before Luci had to leave again. Aside from Harry finishing up the school year and Luci having meetings every other day with her managers and some of the producers from the film to sign off on some contracts, they’d managed to make ends work. They made sure to make up for some lost time from when Luci was still filming for her first movie; they spent mornings sleeping in until one would wake up and tease the other, which would result into having a lazy and sleepy morning sex; they went on countless dates, and truly gotten to know one another without any distractions.

Harry insisted on going to Coney Island Beach, which Luci was always up for. Luckily, no one recognized her, interrupting their perfect day together. They spent the day hand-in-hand, chasing one another into the water, and laughing until their stomachs ached. After a tiring moment of running around and being goofy, they settled onto their beach mat as their chests heaved up and down. Water droplets rested against the ends of Harry’s hair as he looked at Luci, who was wiping off the sand that had stuck to her thighs as she was completely unaware of his stare.

“Tell me about your earliest memory.” Harry requested.

Luci smiled at the thought. “I was four-years-old. My family and I went to Mexico for the summer. We’d gone all over the country before so I have bits and pieces of all the cities we’d gone to.” Harry listened as she talked about her childhood memory. “I remember all of the kids clubs that our parents checked me and Nathan into. There was this one kids club in Cancun where it was The Flintstones themed, and we got to paint shirts with Bamm-Bamm on it—I still have that shirt till this day.” Luci reminisced on the recollection of the summer during her younger years.

Harry’s eyes widened. “Really? That shirt is, like, twenty-two-years-old now.”

“I know!” Luci laughed; a sound that was glorious to his ears. “I just can’t get rid of it. It’s really the only thing I physically have from my childhood besides all of the video tapes my dad took of us during that trip.” She sighed, reliving those moments in her head. “What was your earliest memory?”

“I was probably about five-years-old, but I remember my mum and dad got us a dog. We named her Bunny; although I think I named her myself because I was attached to her the moment we got her.” Harry smiled, and Luci giggled as she imagined little Harry meeting his dog for the first time. “She was a golden retriever, and was always the happiest. When we’d get home from school, Bunny would always be waiting by the door, and would follow me around the house everywhere; sit next to me while I was eating at the table, laid her head on my leg when I was watching TV, and would sometimes sleep with me—I’d just have to sneak her into my room because my parents didn’t allow it. We had to put her down, though, because she had some kind of infection. She lived a very good life. I hope she didn’t complain.”

Luci fondly smiled at him. She loved learning about tiny but significant pieces of Harry’s life, and it just made her love him even more than she already did. Love? The thought momentarily and internally freaked her out, but then she realized that those thoughts were correct. She loved Harry.

He was thinking the exact same thing she was, as if their minds were linked in a special way that they could only convey. Curling his lips in, he felt his heartbeat pick up into an erratic pace that he felt like it was about to burst from just looking at her. His stomach fluttered with butterflies, erupting into a cave of monarchs, suddenly feeling nervous. He blushed, fidgeting with his ringless fingers that felt dry from the grainy hot sand.

Was this what it felt like? He pondered in his head. He’d never felt like this before, never felt this feeling with his past partners. And he knew the difference quite well because when he looked back at his previous relationships, he saw a time frame that only fit into a certain moment in his life. But looking at Luci right now, he saw the entire world. The sun shined brighter when he thought about her. His every sated thought was consumed with her, and that thought scared him, but it was thrilling and exhilarating, leaving him wanting more.

“Luci.”

She looked up, flashing him her smile that he’d fallen for over and over again. “Yeah?”

Taking a deep breath, he spit out fire, “I love you. I think I have for a while now,” and made the spark ignite in her stomach.

Her eyes widened, speechless. And that was when Harry thought he completely messed everything up and ruined their domestic and happy routine. That was until she said, “I love you too, Harry. You make my heart beat ten times faster.”

“Really?” A sheepish smile landed on his face, and Luci thought he was the most adorable person she’d ever met.

Nodding, she scooted closer to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Really.”

“You make me so, so happy.”

Just as they shared a loving and tender kiss under the sun, momentarily, all their worries went away.

When it was time for Harry to say goodbye to her, it never really got easier watching Luci leave. By the end of their paradise break where they’d spent days and weeks together nonstop, he had dropped her off at the airport and watched as she stepped onto the escalator on her way to TSA. The entire scenery and feeling felt somewhat familiar to him, but he still felt pain in his chest every time he had to go back home without her, where she wouldn’t be across the hall from him. It was like watching her leave for the first time all over again, as if his mind hadn’t quite grasped at the concept of being alone for another few months again after spending a few weeks together.

He only hoped it would get easier.

Luci had erupted a light inside of him that he’d never known was there before. He had spent years of being in the dark, years of not knowing where to go because that certain light wasn’t guiding him. But the darkness seemed to fade away ever since he’d met her. That beautiful smile of hers was the sun that seeped through the windows in the early morning. But when the source and power for that certain light was gone for months, miles away, then all electrical power goes out too.

Harry carelessly threw his phone on the bed, masking the urge to scream into agony. He pulled at his hair, inhaling and exhaling through his nose to keep him calm. His anxiety was bubbling up, and he felt his hands shake.

It had been a long week for him, and it started from Monday as it carried on to Saturday. On Monday morning, he was late for work; he slept through all three of his alarms that he’d set up the night prior, making sure they were at a decent volume. He woke up an hour later, rushing to get dressed for the day. As he was brushing his teeth, he spilled toothpaste on his white shirt as if he wasn’t late already, he had to change again.

Tuesday through Thursday were a mess for him; he wasn’t his usual self and he felt very off. It had gone to the point where his students had noticed and asked him if he was okay right as they were leaving for lunch. Of course, he told them that he was fine, but as soon as they left, he spent his lunch time crying, not getting a chance to eat his food.

On top of the horrible week, he hated giving quizzes on Fridays, but he had to anyway because after every story his class finished, there was a quiz—it just so happened to be on a Friday. As he was packing up, getting ready to leave, he made sure the quizzes were nice and stacked before he put it into his messenger bag, but the unfortunate perfect timing had occurred and his coffee spilled all over the papers, leaving a brown, wet stain on more than half of the quizzes. He wanted to quit right there, on the spot before he let his students retake the quiz all over again. He did his best keeping his composure until he got home, slamming the door and completely dropping all of his belongings on the ground, not caring about the mess.

Harry didn’t know what caused him to have such an off-putting mood, but the thought of missing a certain someone had lingered in his mind, screaming at him to conclude his breakdown.

All he wanted was to see her, talk to her, hug her—but she was miles away.

Luci had been hopping from country to country in Asia, filming and working for two months already; and within those months, she had only contacted him five times. Despite being together for seven months, he didn’t want to constantly text her, asking for her attention because he didn’t want to think he was needy. But this time, he really needed to talk to her.

Grabbing his phone that he threw on his bed, he dialed her number. He heard the phone ring once, twice, and a third time before he’d lost all hope that she wasn’t going to pick up. But then, the ringing stopped, followed by a soft: “Hello?”

Hearing her voice after a couple months made Harry let out a sigh of relief but was soon trailed with a few tears. Luci heard sniffles and soft cries, and she felt an immense amount of guilt in her chest.

“Harry? Baby? Are you okay?” The sound of his name on the phone didn’t do her beautiful voice justice. “H, you’re scaring me.” She sat up on her bed, way too big for just one person. The white and soft sheet surrounded her, and every time she woke up and fell asleep, she thought about Harry and wished to get lost and tangled within these sheets with him.

He sniffled, leading into a deep breath. “Sorry, I know it’s early over there-”

“No, no. Don’t be sorry. Are you okay, my love?” She asked concerningly.

“I-I don’t know. I’m just so overwhelmed and…” she heard him start to breathe heavily, and she only wished she was right across the hall from him to take him in her arms.

“Harry,” she interrupted. “I’m going to need you to breathe for me, okay? Slow and big inhales and exhales. Breathe with me.” Harry nodded, even though she couldn’t see him. He took a seat in front of the bed on the floor, propping his knees up so he could place his elbows on them as he leaned his head down in between his arms, making a small cave as he protected himself from any more overwhelming emotions and thoughts.

For the next minute or two, they breathed together on the phone, and it calmed down hearing her breath deeply. Luci held it together, not wanting to break when she was the one that was supposed to calm him down.

“Are you ready to talk about it?”

Harry gulped, closing his eyes before he told her about his week. He hadn’t talked to her for the entire week, so he didn’t spare any detail on his messy and awful week. Luci listened intently, not wanting to give her attention away from him even for a moment; she pressed the phone against her ear as she laid on her side, cuddling into her pillow and blanket as she pretended Harry was right next to her. Luckily, her call time was at ten a.m, so she had a good three hours to talk to him.

“I just don’t know what I’m going to do about these quizzes.”

“Hmm, let’s see. Like, all of them are ruined?”

“Pretty much.”

“Well, you could be honest with them. I’m sure some of them hadn’t read the material, so they might’ve not done so well. So, you could tell them that they were ruined, and just give them a chance to catch up on their readings and study the material.” She advised. “I mean, it’s a quiz—it shouldn’t interfere too much with the teaching and schedule and all the grading, right?”

“Not really…” he answered, thinking about her suggestion, and it was a really great suggestion, might he add. “Yeah, I think I’ll do that. I’d feel absolutely horrible if I made them retake it. I didn’t even want to schedule a quiz on Friday anyways.”

“And that’s what makes you a great teacher,” she said genuinely.

“Thank you, Ci. And thank you for answering, I know things are hectic and our schedules don’t line up.

Plus the time-zones…”

Luci felt her heart sink, a frown etched on her face. She knew she wasn’t texting or trying to call him, and that’s where the guilt crept in. In a way, she felt like she wanted space, like she didn’t want to consistently check up on someone back home. But the more she thought about it, the more she felt terrible because she knew that Harry’s added stress was because she hadn’t spoken to him in a week. She ignored all of the incoming text messages, leaving them unanswered while being in a country she’d never been to before.

Her anxiety was also acting up because of how exhausted she was from flying from one place to another and the jetlag she endured. To add to her exhaustion, she was also overwhelmed with work, causing her to curl into a ball and ignore the rest of the world whenever she got some downtime.

“You shouldn’t have to thank me for answering, Harry. I-I’m sorry I haven’t been talking to you. I’ve just been swamped with work and being tired all the time, and the last thing I wanted to do was talk to you—it’s horrible, I know. Like, I genuinely hate myself for not wanting to, especially with how far apart we are,” she admitted. Harry couldn’t help but feel his heart crack a bit; he hadn’t expected her to feel or say that. He assumed that the time apart had left her itching to see him, just as much as he wanted to see her.

After a few seconds of silence, Harry was unable to put together the exact words he wanted to say because he was so thrown off by what she’d said.

“Harry, I’m sorry if I upset you. You have every right to be angry with me.”

He took a deep breath, shaking his head lightly. “I’m not angry. A bit hurt? Yeah. But I can’t control how you feel, and you can’t control how you feel either. Don’t feel obligated to speak to me, I know you’re busy and all…” His tone wasn’t enthusiastic, but could anyone blame him? His girlfriend just told him that she didn’t feel like talking to him for the entire week, maybe the entire time she was gone.

The switch-up was inevitable. This past week, Luci wanted space and Harry unspokenly gave her that space by not wanting to appear as clingy, but just when she’d disappointed and upset him, all she wanted was to be in the same room he was in, holding him tight.

“Anyways, you should get going.” Luci’s brows furrowed as she looked at the digital clock on the bedside table, reading 8:23 a.m.. “I’ll talk to you, uh, soon.”

And this time, when he unspokenly asked for space, she had given it to him.

“Okay. I’ll talk to you later.” A small pout landed on her mouth. For a moment, neither of them wanted to hang up, not wanting to leave this conversation with such an awkward-filled tension that won’t be able to be fixed until later on. “Harry?” Luci spoke up right before he was about to hang up.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.” She held her breath.

“I love you too, Ci. I’ll see you soon.” Harry hung up the phone as Luci let out the air she was holding in, but she still felt weight on her shoulders.

He was glad that he was able to talk to Luci and that she was able to calm him down with her soothing and soft voice; but that night, he still went to bed with a heavy heart, surrounded by the scent of her on his pillows that she’d left behind.

November 1, 2018

Harry was waiting by baggage claim, waiting for Luci with her favorite bouquet of flowers in his hands. His hands gripped the stems of the flowers, wrinkling the brown paper as he contained the shakiness.

It had been a little over four months since he last saw Luci, and nervous was an understatement. He thought that after the weird and awkward talk in August, things wouldn’t be the same and they were going to end things. But Luci was trying—they both were. She ended up talking to him and calling him any chance that she got, which wasn’t much, but it meant everything to Harry that she was trying. Plus, a little space never really did any harm.

His foot tapped against the polished floor, making a random beat with his boot. People brushed past him, reunited with their loved ones and friends they hadn’t seen in x amount of days; and when he saw the burgundy colored luggage with a black name tag tied around the handle, he knew she was home.

Appearing in slow motion, their eyes met and it felt like they’d been stunned by an electrifying force that compelled them together. Duplicate smiles were spread on their faces, never leaving sight of one another as they tried getting through the crowd of people who were exiting from the international gate. Once they were close enough, Luci held out her arms while Harry met her in the middle, wrapping his strong arms around her waist, hugging her tightly. Luci held him firmly, hands going straight to the bottom of his head as her fingers gently scratched the curls that delicately rested on the back of his neck.

She felt hot kisses on her neck and a happy smile against her shoulder that it felt like he was tattooing it onto her skin. Luci began to pull away, kissing along the side of his neck and to his lips, taking in and savoring the feel of his soft and pink lips.

They simply didn’t care that they were in the middle of the airport, in the middle of baggage claim where everyone could see them because who cared? They weren’t going to see these people tomorrow nor were they going to remember their faces, so they greeted each other in a long and soft kiss where they smiled against one another and held each other tight.

Pulling away, they both giggled before Harry handed her the bouquet of flowers that made her swoon.

“Welcome home, baby.” He pecked her lips once more.

She smelled the flowers, smiling into them as if she were a bee collecting pollen before she wrapped one arm around his neck, pulling him in for another tight hug as she planted a big kiss on his cheek, making him blush.

“I’m home,” Luci said once she pulled away. “Now, please, take me home.” She chuckled, dramatically sighing exhaustively as if she was going to sleep immediately when they got home.

Harry wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side before he led her to the parking garage.

“Let’s go home. New York misses you a lot.”

After a long ride back to Brooklyn, their lips immediately connected right when they entered Luci’s apartment while Harry kicked the door closed with his foot, extending his arm back to make sure it was locked. She quickly but gently set the flowers on the counter, so she could put them into a vase later since she had more important matters on her hands.

As Luci was walking backwards, kissing Harry, he led her to her bedroom. She pulled away, walking past him as she headed for the bathroom before turning back around, facing him.

“What are you doing?” He asked breathlessly.

Luci swiftly removed her sweater, revealing an olive green sports bra. She then pulled her leggings down, kicking them off as she exposed her black cotton panties to him. Taking off her sports bra, she never disconnected eye contact with Harry, driving him wild as he started to grow in his pants. He brought his fingers up to his bottom lip, pinching it in between his fingers as she slowly slid off her underwear. She was completely bare in front of him, her clothes at her feet; Harry inhaled sharply at the sight of her naked, and Luci smirked at his reaction.

“I’m going in for a shower. Wanna wash off hours being on a plane.” She headed into the restroom without another word, leaving Harry standing stunned in the middle of the hallway.

“Does that include me too?” Harry called out.

She chuckled. “Hell yeah, baby. Get in here.” Her voice echoed from the bathroom as she started the shower. Harry rushed, taking off his clothes as the bathroom started to steam up from the temperature of the water.

When he opened the glass door, her back was facing the entrance of the shower as she tilted her head back, allowing the hot water to stream down the valleys and crevices of her body. Harry’s mouth was ajar, cock twitching as he watched her. He closed the door behind him as he stepped into the shower, wrapping his arm around her waist and catching her by surprise as she let out a squeal.

Her back was pressed against his chest, hands roaming around her wet body as he squeezed her breasts. Harry pressed a soft kiss against her shoulder as part of his head was getting wet. Turning them around, the water streams hit his back as he continued to kiss along his neck and shoulder, biting down at her skin. She let out a soft moan at the feel of his lips, extending her arm backwards so her hand was placed on the back of his head.

“Missed you,” she whispered, resting her head on his shoulder, exposing her entire neck. Harry couldn’t pass up the offer to wrap his hand around her neck, squeezing lightly as she slightly moaned.

“Mm, missed you so much more.” Luci turned her head to meet his lips, and she already knew she was going to get a stiff neck later on, but she didn’t care; she wanted to kiss him for as long as possible. His hands trailed down to her clit, making her gasp in his mouth as he started to rub the bud softly, circling his fingers around just like he knew she liked it.

The bathroom was filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, lips kissing, and the shower stream that was hitting their bodies and steaming the air, adding to their passionate tension from when they first were wrapped up around each other.

Harry pulled away, pushing her against the wall while he kissed her shoulder once more, and Luci loved it every time he did that; it was a sweet and simple gesture, but it had complete control to get her riled up. He trailed his kisses along her back, kissing down her spine before he stopped at the top of her ass, biting down gently; Luci held the tiled wall in front of her for stability. Harry slowly licked the flesh of her ass, making his way inwards to her core. His tongue teased and rimmed her hole, making her pulse.

“Harry…” she called out, and he playfully answered ‘yes’ as if he didn’t know what he was doing. She rolled her eyes, gripping the back of his head. “Don’t tease.”

“Alright, alright. Only because I’ve missed you so much and have been dying to taste you again.” He kissed her ass once more before he leaned his head down to lick up from her clit to her wet hole. He sat on his knees, not caring if his knees would ache.

He sucked and licked her clit before inserting a finger into her entrance. The sensation made Luci moan loud; her grasp on his hair tightened as if she was trying to pull the strands out.

“Fuck, baby,” she whined, throwing her head back as she closed her eyes.

Unexpectedly, Harry licked at her tighter and puckered hole, testing if she liked it or not; and he received a moan of ‘yes’ in return, so he continued licking her everywhere before her breath was staggered and she came on his tongue. Harry held her body tightly so she would slip from the water rushing on them.

He slowly turned her around, kissing her lips in a heated passion that could only be received from her. Once Luci regained momentum, she took his cock in her hand, slowly pumping as he rested his forehead against hers, hands on both sides of her cheeks as he breathed heavily. Her other hand fondled his balls, rolling them in her hand, and it was his turn to throw his head back.

As Luci stroked him, she kissed his chest, leaving a few hickies to his collarbones.

“You’re so fuckin’ good, holy shit.” She watched his every reaction; watched him bite his lip into agony, eyes shut closed, and hips unconsciously bucking into her hand. “Don’t wanna come right now.”

The main event was just a slip away, so she let go of him, and he’d already missed the feel of her around him. He connected their lips together; Harry bit her bottom lip as he slightly pulled at him, driving her crazy.

“Fuck me, please,” she pleaded, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him the closest he could get as she lifted one leg up, using her leg strength to rest it beside his hip. His cock rested against her stomach, occasionally twitching from the slightest friction it was getting from her skin.

He smirked. “Are you begging?”

She playfully rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I’m begging. So what? I want you to fuck me now,” she said sternly.

“Okay. Wait, need to get a condom-”

She pulled him back. “I've had an IUD for a few years now, and we’re not sleeping with anyone else, right?” She asked teasingly, and he shook his head. “Good because I wanna feel you bare. Need to feel you.”

“Fuck me,” he muttered under his breath. He grabbed a hold of himself, pumping slowly as he gripped the back of her thigh that propped against his hip. Running the tip against her slit, he collected her arousal and orgasm, making her shiver before he slowly slipped himself into her entrance.

Their mouths were wide open once he was fully in. The feel of each other as they were completely bare and raw was an unbelievable feeling that neither of them could decipher.

“So fuckin’ tight.” He was breathless as she squeezed around him, waiting for her to adjust to his size. She muttered a ‘please,’ and Harry started to thrust quicker. Her soft and wet walls hugged him tightly, making him groan louder as he leaned his forehead against her collarbones. Luci’s fingers raked the back of his shoulders

“God, H, you feel so good.” Her head hit the wall behind her, and Harry pulled his head out of her chest.

“Yeah? Tell me how good it feels,” he demanded. Despite having her eyes closed, she could practically see the smirk that landed on his face at the mention of how good he was making her feel. “Tell me, Ci. Look at me and tell me.”

Her eyes fluttered open, meeting his dark jaded eyes. “So good. Could feel you everywhere.” Her words came out in between her breaths, moans, and Harry’s thrusts.

He kissed her. “Tell me more. Tell me everything”

“I’ve missed you inside of me. Thought about you everyday. I would touch myself before I went to bed, and it didn’t help.”

Harry gripped her thigh hard, sure there were going to be bruises forming tomorrow. “Why didn’t it help?” He asked, picking up his pace.

Luci inhaled sharply as she cried out. “Because no one could make me feel good. No one but you.”

“Hmm, that’s right, baby. Only me. Such a good girl.” The tip of his cock brushed against her special spot, and she rolled her eyes back in ecstasy. He repeatedly hit that spot, linking his hands behind her neck for leverage.

“Yes, yes, yes.” Her brows furrowed, biting her lip. Harry leaned down to suck and kick her tits, and Luci felt him slap one of them, making her get the idea of slapping something else, so she said, “Slap me, baby.”

Thinking he meant her ass, he swatted one of the cheeks hard.

“No.” She paused, bringing his hand up to her cheek. “Slap me.” Luci kissed the inside of his hand.

His eyes widened. “Baby…” his thrusts slowed down, and Luci was right on the edge. He knew they talked about it the first time they had sex, and the first few times they had sex, he was testing out the waters on spanking, to which she absolutely loved feeling that certain type of sting.

“Please, want you to.” She looked at him with pleading eyes. “Wanna feel it burn.”

He debated in his head. “You’re sure?” She nodded, and he knew she could do better. “Words, Luciana.”

“Yes, I’m one hundred percent sure. I’ll tell you if it's too much. Just wanna try it out.” She confirmed. The pressure in her stomach felt like she was going to burst, so she started to buck her hips, moving herself on him, making him groan.

“Okay. We need a safe word…just in case.”

“Mango.” Was the first thing that popped into her mind; it was also her favorite fruit.

Harry chuckled. “Alright, mango it is.” He started thrusting again. His hand caressed her cheek as he brought his lips to hers, placing a sweet kiss to her luscious lips. “I love you.”

“And I love you, too. I trust you.”

Those words brought him reassurance, that she trusted only him to do this with, and that made him feel so much better about doing it. He nodded, continuing to fuck her into oblivion. Her eyes began to close and he felt her squeeze around him, making him jolt.

“Hey, look at me. Want you to look at me when you cum.” Her eyes quickly opened, looking deep into his eyes that drove her crazy. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful. So, so beautiful.” Not too hard, he slapped her cheek, making her head swing to the side before she brought it back to look at his face. She had a sly smile on her face, as if she were the villain who would laugh every time the hero punched them. The impact had made her wetter, more eager to come.

“Again.” She demanded, and he complied, slapping her twice more before she told him that she was coming.

“That’s it. Such a pretty girl. Look at you cumming for me.” He kissed her forehead as he slammed his hips into her.

Luci was spent, putting her full weight on the tiles, holding onto Harry’s shoulders, depending on him to keep her up; he wasn’t going to let her go, not ever. He wasn’t going to let her fall because he would catch her over and over again.

“I’m gonna cum…” A throaty moan was released from his mouth.

She grabbed his face, pressing their foreheads together as she said, “Please, cum in me. Want it.”

With her filthy words, Harry let out a harsh breath as he filled her up with his warm spurts of his pleasure, hips jolting as he rode his high out. He quickly kissed her, tongues swirling together as they swallowed each other’s moans.

“Fuck, you’re so good to me.” He mindlessly breathed out. His cock slipped out of her once she brought her leg down to the ground, making her gasp in sensitivity. Soon, she felt the result of his pleasure trickling down her leg, and Harry was sure that was the hottest sight he’d ever seen.

For a few moments, they held one another under the shower—thankful the hot water hadn’t been used entirely while they were fucking. Harry pulled away, cupping her cheeks as he looked at her.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked, and she nodded. “D-Did I slap you too hard?”

Luci shook her head. “No, no. It was perfect, thank you.”

He chuckled, softly rubbing his thumb against her soft cheek that he’d hit a few minutes prior. He placed many kisses to her skin, like he was subsiding the stings with his affection. “Learn more and more about you everyday; whether we’re having sex or not.”

“Hmm, I love you.” She kissed his neck, causing him to wrap his arms around her waist tighter.

“I love you more.”

Finally, they were together again.

November 3, 2018

A stunning red cape-gown dress by Ralph Lauren sat perfectly on Luci’s body as her makeup artists were putting on the finishing touches to her glam.

Today was the premiere for Ocean’s Eight, and nervous was an understatement. She’d been looking forward to these types of events since she was a little girl; watching movie premieres on the television, hoping and dreaming to become someone who walked the red carpet. Time flew by quickly because her dreams were about to come true. All she was missing was her boyfriend.

After their reunion sex in the shower, they called it a night by eating some takeaway from Tasty plates. While her legs were resting on his thighs, she’d asked if he wanted to attend the premiere with her as her special guest. His answer was understandable, but she’d just wish he was next to her to calm her down.

“Luci, please don’t take this the wrong way. I support you in everything that you do, you know that. I-I just don’t know if I’m ready for that. The thought of standing in front of cameras just makes me sick and nauseous. I don’t know…” She understood well, and saw where he was coming from because frankly, as she was getting ready for it, she could be sick any minute.

She told him that it was completely okay, and proceeded with their night.

“And done.” Her stylist, Jacqueline, announced, topping her makeup off with a dust of powder. “Luci, you look amazing.”

“Thank you all so much. Best glam team ever.” The five people in the room clapped and praised her words. A security guard escorted her out to the car that was waiting in front of the hotel, ready to take her to the premiere.

Once she got into the black SUV, her driver greeted her. “Hello, Ms. Suki. I’m Philip. I’ll be driving you around today.”

“Hi, Philip. How are you?”

“Doing very well, Ms. Suki. How are you?”

“Oh, please call me Luci. But I’m okay—a bit nervous, if I’m honest.”

“It’s an exciting time. You’ll do great.” Philip provided words of encouragement, which she was thankful for. Luci learned that Philip was from Spain, and had been living in New York since he was ten. She asked if he missed Spain, and he answered with. “Sometimes. I was quite young when we moved, so I didn’t really know any better. But the one thing I do miss is my family and how they speak—I didn’t know I could miss someone’s accent so much until I learned more about my culture. And here, I wasn’t surrounded by that. I’ve missed my abuela calling me ‘Felipe,’ which is my actual name.” Philip pulled up to the curb where there were countless media people with large professional cameras that were flashing brightly. Philip had definitely distracted Luci’s nervous thoughts as she hadn’t realized they were at the premiere already until he parked and dropped her off. “Goodluck, Ms. Luci. I can't wait to see the film!”

Someone from the outside of the car opened the door for her, and before she stepped out, she said ‘goodbye’ to her driver. “Thank you for driving me. I wish you well, Felipe.” She gave him a smile, trying her best to perfect the accent; Felipe looked at her with an appreciative smile, holding his hand to his heart. He hadn’t heard anyone say or try to say his real name ever since he moved, and for that, he will be forever grateful and honored to have met Luciana Suki.

Camera flashes relentlessly went off in front of the Ziegfeld Theatre in midtown Manhattan. Luci balled her hands into fists as she stepped onto the blue carpet, the cameras directed towards her. She looked at Thea, who had met her at the premiere since she was her plus one, and Thea gave her an encouraging nod before Luci took a deep breath and walked in front of the white backdrop that had a large picture of the cast portraying their character in front of it. Shouts of direction were thrown her way, asking her to give their camera a big smile, and the only thing she felt was overwhelmed at everyone shouting at her, but she masked her emotions well. She was an actress, afterall.

Harry was watching a live stream on his laptop, and he clapped to himself once he saw Luci step foot onto the carpet and in front of the cameras. He thought she looked absolutely beautiful, and he’d told her so when she sent him pictures of the entire look, saving them to his phone. He smiled to himself as he watched her, and he noticed a certain expression of uncomfortableness, making his smile vanish quickly. With a worried expression, he watched until she made it to the end of the red carpet, meeting with some interviewers, waving at fans who didn’t know who she was, and into the theatre. He let out a deep breath, glad that she was able to get through the media portion for the premiere, but he couldn’t help but feel guilty.

On cue, his phone began to ring, and he saw that it was his mother, so he answered with an unenthusiastic tone.

“Hi, mum.”

“Harry, hi. How are you, darling?” Anne asked, cup of tea in hand.

“I’m doing okay. How are you?” He tried picking his mood up from off the ground for his mum, but he wasn’t successful at it.

“I’m doing great. We miss you. Now, do you wanna tell me how you’re really feeling? Could practically feel your mood all the way over here.” Anne tried making a joke to pick up the mood. “Does it have to do with Luci?” Harry had mentioned Luci right when she’d move in across the hall. From then on, it was like he couldn’t stop talking about her; the moment they became friends and when they started to hang out more with one another, to when he asked her to be his girlfriend—he never missed a phone call with Anne when he didn’t mention her. Of course, he told her about her career and how she was making her way up the ladder; Anne was quite excited about that because she would get to watch her movies, but then she put the pieces together and figured out that only meant Luci was apart from her son.

Harry took a deep breath, sighing. “Luci’s at her premiere right now, and I was just watching the live stream for it. She looked so beautiful.” Harry never failed to mention how gorgeous she looked, and it made Anne’s heart smile. “Two days ago she asked me if I wanted to join her for the premiere, and I said no. I said no, mum!”

Her brows furrowed. “Why’d you do that?”

“Because I was nervous to be in front of the cameras. I knew I’d have to walk the carpet with her because she’d want me to, but just thinking about it, I don’t know if I’d be able to handle it. But watching the live stream just a few minutes ago, I saw how nervous she was; she didn’t have anyone beside her. It’s her first premiere ever, and I wasn’t there because I put my feelings before hers because I was selfish.” He felt an immense amount of regret in his chest as he started to cry. Luci wouldn’t get a ‘first’ premiere again, and he missed the chance to be with her, to celebrate a huge accomplishment.

Anne’s heart sank at the sound of him crying. “I’m sure she won’t be too upset at you because she seemed pretty understanding of it.”

“Of course she did—she had to. Things were weird at one point when she was in Singapore, and she’d only just gotten back home two days ago, so I doubt that she wanted to argue. I…I just feel so bad.”

“Well, the only thing that would fix it would be to talk to her. Tell her you’re sorry and how you feel. You’ve got to communicate with each other.” She advised.

The art of communication between them wasn’t entirely horrible; for one, it was difficult to communicate as it was when Luci was always working and in a different place with a fifteen hour time difference. Two, they were in a new relationship—no matter if they’d been together for ten months, they were still a new couple because they’d been separated and apart longer than they were physically together. So, they were still learning and figuring out how to do that with each other.

“Okay. I will…” he agreed.

Moving on from that topic, Anne told him about work and the cats, and how much she missed him. He told his mother that he’d see her on Christmas, which she’d been ecstatic about having her two children in the same house again.

“Maybe you could bring Luci?” Anne subtly slipped in the idea to him.

Harry chuckled. “I’m not sure. She goes back home for Christmas.”

“Alright, just a suggestion. Make sure she knows that she’s welcomed.”

“I’ll be sure to tell her.”

After bidding each other goodbye for the past ten minutes, they finally managed to get off the phone after a few more conversations.

Now, all he had to do was wait for Luci to get home and hoped she wasn’t mad at him.

It was around eight in the evening when someone knocked on Harry’s door. He was cooking a later dinner for himself as a spontaneous idea had entered his mind to make homemade pasta. So, his hands were covered in flour, and he was lucky he had an apron on because his clothes would have flour all over it.

Washing his hands, he headed for the door, wondering who could be knocking right now. When he opened the door, there she was: his Luci, standing in a beautiful red gown as she held her clutch in her two hands in front of her stomach. Her hair, makeup, and composure was absolutely stunning. She held herself with grace, with poise.

He was stunned. “Luciana…”

“Hi, Harry.” She smiled. His eyes raked up and down her body, completely stupefied by her beauty; the contrast of feeling intimidated under his stare only ignited a sense of confidence for how he was looking at her. “Not gonna let me in?” Harry quickly moved to the side, opening the door wider for her as she nonchalantly walked into his apartment as the train on her dress trailed after her.

A smirk landed on her face knowing Harry was looking at her as she walked in, and that ultimately boosted her confidence. He waited until the material of her dress was fully inside and not within the door’s swinging motion so it wouldn’t get caught under the door.

She turned around, facing him and his eyes never left her. “How are you, my love?” Luci had a smile on her face that Harry would never get over; it permanently remained in his dreams.

From what Harry could tell, Luci wasn’t mad or disappointed; she looked delighted and relieved to see him.

“I’m doing better now that you’re here—and not that I’m complaining whatsoever, but isn’t the afterparty still going on?” He wondered.

“It is. I only stayed for an hour or two. I’d rather be here, though.”

Harry blushed. “I’m glad you’re here. You look…fuck, Luciana, you look absolutely beautiful.” He rubbed his forehead as if her beauty had completely overwhelmed him, made him feel lightheaded.

Luci was going to get changed before she knocked on Harry’s door, but she wanted him to see her in her gown, and his reaction and all the sweet compliments were totally worth staying in her dress.

“Thank you, H. That’s very sweet.”

“How was the premiere?” He asked; Luci took a seat on his couch, taking off her shoes before she propped them up on his coffee table as Harry followed, sitting right next to her. He grabbed her legs, bringing them across his thighs as he began massaging her feet, up her calves, and trailing up thighs—close to her inner thighs.

Luci shifted, getting comfortable, wanting to clench her thighs together with how good his hands felt on her. “It was good! I was pretty nervous, but I had fun. It’s, like, kinda weird watching myself on the big screen. I don’t think I would get used to that.” She chuckled, leaning her head on the back of the couch. “I should get the professional pictures tomorrow, and maybe we could put them in our scrapbook?”

Harry nodded. “I’d love that. I’m glad you had a good time.” He smiled softly before he went completely silent, stopping the movements of his hands. Luci could tell something was bothering him and had been for a while now.

“Hey.” She reached over to touch his hand. “Talk to me. You look like you have a lot on your mind.”

“I was watching the live stream of the premiere, and I just wanted to say I’m sorry.” Luci’s brows furrowed in confusion. “I-I should’ve been there with you. I mean, I was completely selfish for not being by your side for your first premiere. I was thinking of my own feelings and how I would feel being surrounded by the chaos when I didn’t even think about how you might’ve felt. And I regret it so much. I’m so sorry.”

He brought her hands to his lips, pressing multiple soft kisses to the inside and back of her hands; Luci slightly frowned, shaking her head.

She placed her hands on the back of his neck, placing a kiss on his forehead. “No, no. It’s okay. Hey, I’m not mad. Don’t beat yourself up.”

“But…you’re supposed to be mad.”

“I’m not supposed to be anything besides yours.”

He nodded as his heart fluttered at her words. There was no look of annoyance or worry about how he politely declined her invitation.

“Just know that I regret my decision on not going with you.”

“It’s okay. There will be plenty of premieres—hopefully—but for now, it’s in the past and we can’t change that.” Harry let out a breath of relief. “Now, what are you making? I wanna join in.” She changed the subject to a much lighter one, hoping to get his mind to stop putting blame on him. Harry pushed his tears back, leading her to the kitchen, and she was excited to see the rolled out dough on the countertop. She clapped, telling Harry that she was going to get changed.

She came back in a pair of white pajama pants that had little chicks on it and a black sweater; her makeup was wiped off, jewelry was taken off and put away safely on her side of Harry’s bedside table. He looked at her in awe—the same look he had when she was dressed and glammed up; his look for her would never change.

Tears and worries had been forgotten as they rolled out the pasta dough, making different kinds of shapes and sizes. They played the ‘Mamma Mia!’ soundtrack—since that was Luci’s go-to soundtrack since the movie was a “cinematic masterpiece” as she should say—singing and harmonizing They opened a bottle of wine and raised their glasses to love and more opportunities.

November 5, 2018

“Okay, since your birthday is in three days, and I can’t keep a surprise to save my life…I booked us a dinner reservation in the evening.”

Luci looked up from the November issue of the Vogue magazine that she was mindlessly flipping through. Her eyes lit up. “Really? Where?”

“I need something to surprise you with, so you’ll know when we get there.” Harry kissed her cheek. Pouting, she gave her best puppy eyes. “Not gonna work, baby, but nice try.”

Her face switched back to neutral. “Fine. You’re lucky I love you.”

“Yeah, I know you do,” he teased.

“I really do.” She put the magazine down on the table in front of her, climbing on his lap. “Like, a lot.”

“And I love you more. Now, how about I give you an extra and early birthday gift?” He asked, rubbing his hands down her back and to her ass.

Her hips slightly grinded down on him, causing him to fidget. “Oh, yeah? And what would that entail?”

“Let’s go to the bedroom and find out.”

Before she got the chance to answer, he unexpectedly ran to the bedroom, dragging her along as she squealed. Their smiles hadn’t disappeared from their faces, and they were hopelessly happy and in love.

November 8, 2018

The school bell rang, making everyone pack up their belongings as they headed out the classroom door. Usually, Harry would stay back and get some grading done, but today, he had errands to run before his date with Luci for her birthday. He’d been so excited since the moment he told her that they had plans, which he was lucky that he hadn’t spoiled the entire evening right then and there.

For her birthday, Harry had planned to take her out to a nice restaurant—not too fancy since fancy wasn’t really their vibe, but it was nice enough that they needed to dress up. After their meal, he planned to take her to the arcade where he would win her an arcade ring from one of those claw-machine games—that ate people’s quarters quickly—were almost impossible to win anything from, but he was determined. The arcade ring could scare her away as she may think it would be the next step to their relationship but it wasn’t anything too serious because neither of them were ready for that nor had it been discussed. He’d love to marry Luci, though, if he was being honest. They hadn’t even been together for a year, but he just had a certain feeling in his heart that she was the one—a feeling he hadn’t felt all of his life and in his past relationships.

After their arcade shenanigans, Harry would take her to a café that closed later than usual, where they would share a Danish to satisfy their sweet tooth, and have coffee or tea that would make them wired so they would have to stay up to have romantic and sweet sex; and in between rounds, they would eat the birthday cake Harry bought her.

He had it all planned out, and he was eager to see the excitement and surprise on her face.

Putting his folders and belongings into his bag, he said goodbye to the last student who was walking out of his classroom. With a big smile on his face, he rushed as he was packing up, seeing as he was in a time crunch. He closed his door and made his way down the hall before he was stopped.

“Hey, Harry! Wait up.” Harry turned around, seeing Carina jog towards him as her heels clicked against the ground.

“Hi, Carina. What’s up?”

“I was wondering if you wanted to go out tonight? My friends and I are going to this bar, and they have live music there, so I figured you’d be interested in that.” Her hands locked behind her back as she briefly looked down at her feet before looking up with hopeful eyes.

“Oh, uh, thank you for the offer.” Carina had the face of rejection…again. “But today is my girlfriend’s birthday and we’re going out tonight.”

“Right, got it. Girlfriend.” She stated. If Carina was honest, she didn’t Harry had a girlfriend, and she felt like her constant invitation to hang out made her look dumb.

“I’m sorry. I should get going.” He started to back towards the exit of the school as he waved.

“Yeah, have a good night. If by some miraculous reason you change your mind, call me. We’ll be out all night. You can even bring your girlfriend.” Despite the fact that she’d gotten rejected three times and there was a girlfriend in the picture, she’d kept her hopes up. She was just going to stand on the sidelines, and somehow, one day, Harry would stop playing the game and join her.

“Uh, sure.” He waved once more before heading out. Without much thought to Carina’s invitation, he carried on to his schedule and he stopped by the stand-up shop on the sidewalk that was close to his school to buy Luci’s favorite bouquet of flowers. He saw that the ones he’d given her when she arrived home a week ago were still alive and fresh, but she mentioned that she wanted to put some in her bedroom—to brighten up her room. So, no harm in getting another bouquet of flowers. The vendor who owned the shop had noticed he was a regular, which he was grateful for, and told Harry that his lady must be a very lucky one since he’d always made sure to get her the same one. But Harry quickly countered that he was the lucky one.

Next, he stopped by the bakery to buy her a birthday cake. Last year, he hadn’t gotten one for her and she ended up blowing candles from the bowl of ice cream they ate later that night, so he figured a proper birthday cake would top it off. He’d pre-ordered the cake a few days before—a small circle cookies n’ cream ice cream cake, enough to fit both of them. He bought the numbers ‘2’ and ‘7’ and had the baker write ‘Happy Birthday, Luci!’ in red frosting—her favorite color.

When he was finished with everything he needed to do, it was nearing four-thirty and the train ride back to home during rush hour would be dreadful, so he headed back home. He was glad the bakery shop had given him a brown paper bag that was big enough to put the cake in because he couldn’t risk the train suddenly stopping and having the cake fly across the subway cart.

It was five-thirty when he opened his front door. Their reservation was at six-fifteen, so he needed to get changed and properly ready for his girlfriend, and then he’d knock on her door.

A black button down shirt sat perfectly on his torso as the top two buttons were undone, showing his cross pendant, a peek of his tattoos, and the-barely-there but growing chest hair. He wore cream colored pants that fit him perfectly, flaring at the bottom and stopping at the perfect length to show his black Gucci boots that he’d been eyeing for a while and saved up for. He messed around with his hair; it had grown much longer and he hadn’t cut it since last year, but it showcased his curls impeccably.

Taking out the cake, he lit the candles up, placing them out the empty spaces around the writing before he carefully took the cake and flowers across the hall, knocking on her door.

He waited a moment before knocking again, and even then, he didn’t hear the familiar shuffling inside that always made him chuckle because Luci hated making him wait. After waiting for another minute or two, he knocked once more before he walked back inside of his own apartment, blowing out the candles before setting them on the table. He grabbed the spare key that she gave him and walked back to her door. He was starting to get worried now, and all he wanted to know was if she was okay because who knew what could have happened inside her apartment. So, he unlocked the door and let himself in.

“Luci?” He called out, slowly walking through the hallway. He took a glance at the main portion of the apartment, but it was empty. He then made his way to her bedroom and bathroom, and there were no signs or traces of the birthday girl. Furrowing his brows, he wondered where she could be. Harry took out his phone and called, texted, and sent her voicemails at least ten to fifteen times each.

He sat on her couch waiting for Luci to walk through the door, saying that she was sorry for being late. But as the minutes and hours went by, she didn't show; there were no texts or calls—nothing. It was nine at night when he decided to go back to his apartment. He waited for her for four hours, and the only thing that he was thinking about at the moment was: she forgot or she didn’t want to spend her birthday with him. Either one was fine, all she had to do was shoot him a call or text, and then he wouldn’t be so mad or annoyed.

The ice cream cake was melting on the table as it’d gone through hours of not being supervised by the cold freezer. He thought about just throwing the entire thing away, but then he remembered the hard work the bakers had gone through to make this cake, so he stored it in the freezer and wiped down the table before grabbing his phone, finding the person he wanted to contact and hit call.

“Hello?”

“Hey. Are you still out?” He asked.

“Yeah, we’re at Cherry on Lafayette in Soho.” The person on the other side of the call said, smiling, glad that Harry was going to join them.

“Okay, I’ll meet you there.”

Harry didn’t have a clue as to where Luci was, who or if she was with anyone, or if she was okay. All he wanted was for Luci to be okay, that’s all that mattered to him. Perhaps also an explanation as to why she hadn’t shown. But if she was going to be out all night, then he would too.

With that, Harry grabbed his keys and headed out.

Happy Fucking Birthday Luci.

It was 1:15 a.m when Harry turned the corner of his hallway. He wasn’t sure if going out was the best idea in the world. His mind seemed to be on auto-pilot, as it had the control to rile himself up, making him angry at his failed plan to make Luci’s birthday special to anxiety-driven thoughts that made him insecure, wondering if he did or said anything wrong to her that caused her to not want to spend time with him. He stood outside of his door, leaning his forehead against the doorframe as he fished for his keys in his pocket; at the same time his phone buzzed.

Taking it out, he knew it wasn’t Luci, but it was Jeff.

Did you get home okay?

Typing back, he replied with Yeah, standing in front of my door right now. Thanks for tonight.

Of course, man. Anytime. Goodluck with Luci.

Harry didn’t reply anymore. Instead, he put his phone away and took out his keys.

Jeff had invited Harry out for drinks with their other friend, Mitch, but Harry declined, telling them that he had plans with Luci. But since those plans didn’t pull through, he joined his friends from uni, which wasn’t the smartest idea because all he did was drink his feelings away and he hated doing that. He had ranted to Jeff and Mitch about how his night did a complete one-eighty as he hadn’t expected to be sitting at the bar with his friends but instead, in bed with his girlfriend.

Jeff was Harry’s best friend, and he was his first friend he’d met when he was at UCLA, and they both had the idea to move to New York after college, so they did it together. A year into living in New York, Jeff had met Mitch, and they’d got along so well that Jeff decided to keep him around as a friend and introduced him to Harry. All three of them had been a group of three for two years, and they’d been lucky finding one another.

Another pair of shoes had walked down the hall, making Harry turn his head to see who was coming.

And in a gorgeous evergreen dress that landed above her knees, Luci was walking down the hall. If it was any day or any situation, Harry would have bedroom eyes, undressing her from head to toe before pulling her in for a kiss. But it wasn’t, and he was annoyed and pissed.

Luci was fiddling with her keys as she giggled to herself once her eyes were set on Harry. His brows were furrowed as he watched her, and she didn’t seem to care about the extra presence in the hallway—let alone, the fact that it was her boyfriend.

“Where’ve you been?” Harry asked in a quite demanding tone. Luci scoffed as if she was annoyed, and Harry was shocked that she was the one that was irritated.

“Harry, not now.” She hadn’t even turned around to face him, not even to apologize for not showing up; she just continued trying to find the right key and keeping herself up on the poorly chosen heels she’d worn for the night that made her heel blister.

“Not now? The fuck you mean ‘not now?’ Did you forget we had plans?” Luci turned around, and Harry could clearly see that she was drunk—not to the point of knocking out, but it seemed like she was coming down from being at that point because she clearly managed to get back home in one piece without someone helping her. “Where’ve you been, Luci?” He asked once more.

“I’ve been out.”

“Yeah, I figured,” he said sarcastically. “Where?”

“Went out with Nina to a club somewhere in Manhattan. Had a few…a lot.” She chuckled at the memory of her night.

“Did you get my calls? My texts?”

“Harry…I get you’re my boyfriend, but I don’t need to tell you my every move.” Luci rolled her eyes, huffing. Her drunk mind was going against all respect she had for the man in front of her. “Seems like you’ve been out too, but you don’t see me questioning you.” She pointed at him.

The disappointment in his face never left. “I get that, and frankly, I don’t want to know your every move. But I told you that we had plans. The least you could do is call me to cancel, but no, you stood me up.” He tried to hide the sadness in his voice but it was transparent. Luci clearly heard it quite clearly, making her heart sink. “I understand that it’s your birthday and you could do whatever you want, but if you didn’t want to spend it with me then you could’ve just said so; if you weren’t gonna make it on time, you could’ve just said so.” He paused, taking a breath. “I-I was standing in the hallway for ten minutes with a cake, and waited for you inside your apartment for four hours.”

Guilt was suddenly thrown at Luci as she looked down at her feet and curled her lips in. Tears had glossed over her eyes, but she denied them to stream down her face because she didn’t deserve to cry, she didn’t deserve to act like the victim in this situation. She kept her eyes to her feet and hands; she couldn’t even look him in the eye or else she'd let out a loud sob.

“Harry, I’m sorry…” she started, testing her limits as she looked up at him. “I should’ve called.”

“Yeah, you should’ve,” he said sternly. There was an awkward pause, neither of them not knowing what to say. Harry was exhausted from overthinking and all the emotions that had gone through his head, but it gave him a piece of mind knowing that Luci arrived home safely and in one piece, so he didn’t have any other reason as to why he should be standing in the hallway. “I hope you had a good birthday.” Was all he said before he walked back inside of his apartment and shut the door, not giving her a chance to respond.

Luci sighed, letting out the sobs that she’d been holding in before she knew that she’d made a big mistake.

November 21, 2018

Luci opened her door to her family, greeting her excitedly. They hugged her tightly before pushing past her and inside of her apartment. Beatrice and Ren had asked Luci if they could stay at her place for Thanksgiving, and Luci wasn’t going to say no to that. They’d arrived a day before so her parents could prepare dinner as they didn’t want to rush for tomorrow. Luci had gotten them all of their groceries that they needed for the dinner, insisting that she’d buy it at the beginning of the week since the stores would most likely be packed the closer it got to Thanksgiving.

“I’m so happy you’re all here,” she told them. Beatrice looked up from the cutting board, smiling brightly.

“Well, Ana, if we hadn’t come here, you had to come to us.” Nathan stated jokingly, putting her arm around her shoulder.

Luci was happy Nathan wasn’t working during the Thanksgiving week and was able to join their parents on the trip. She’d missed all of them being in the same room; Luci had visited them before she left for Singapore, but it was only a brief day where Nathan wasn’t able to see her, so she was ecstatic her brother was there with her.

“Yeah, and it’s fun being in a star’s home.” Ren teased.

Luci giggled, shaking her head at the joke. “Barely a star, Pa.”

“Are you kidding? You definitely are a star! Already filmed for two blockbuster-hit movies all within a year. You’re moving up, Lulu.” Ren’s encouraging words made her smile; she always admired how her father was always so uplifting and optimistic.

“I agree, Lucky. And there’s many more opportunities to come, I can tell you that.” Beatrice pitched in, not looking up from the vegetables that she was chopping with the sharp knife. Luci smiled, grabbing the small piece of carrot that she cut up before popping it into her mouth. As a mother could read their children’s minds, Beatrice noticed that Luci wasn’t herself. Usually, Luci would be very talkative and interactive when she was with her family, but now, she was quiet. “You okay, Luci?” Her mother asked.

The only reasonable thing she could do, while Luci didn’t want to ruin their night, was to tell her mother a little white lie.

Luci nodded. “I’m fine, Ma.” Deciding not to press her daughter any further, all Beatrice did was nod, taking her word for it but she’ll ask once more when the time was right.

In all honesty, Luci wasn’t fine, which was obvious given her and Harry’s situation and the place that they were in at the moment. Ever since that run-in the night she got home from her spontaneous birthday adventure with Nina and some friends, he hadn’t talked to her much. He’d talk to her when he had to, when he didn’t have a choice; and it was quite hard to avoid your neighbor, especially a neighbor who was always looking through the peep-hole for your whereabouts and knew his exact schedule.

She missed Harry, and she didn’t know how long his disappointment for her would last.

The Suki family gathered around Luci’s coffee table, eating their traditional Thanksgiving foods; they shared laughter and stories. When Luci moved to New York, she was so afraid of being alone without her family, but she came to realize that the reunions were always so exciting and fun because they talked like they hadn’t seen each other in years.

“Luci, is Harry coming by?” Ren asked. Luci had told them about her and Harry’s relationship when they’d been together for two months. It was during a group FaceTime when Luci had just woken up and was getting ready to leave for work. She was groggy and half asleep, as it was already noon on the East Coast—telling them that she’d visited Harry for his birthday, which caused an uproar. They were supportive nonetheless.

At the sound of Harry’s name, she gulped, taking her time to chew and swallow her food before she answered her father. “Uh, no, I don’t think so,” she responded, which wasn’t technically a lie because she didn’t know of Harry’s whereabouts.

“Ah, that’s too bad. We’d love to meet him properly. The last and only time we met him was at your first show last year, and you two weren’t even together yet! Crazy how time flies by, but anyways, he was a nice guy—would love to have a chat with him again.” Luci pointed her eyes at Ren, knowing what that chat could entail. “What? I’m not gonna corner him. I won’t hesitate to do so, but so far, he’s treating you well, so I can’t complain.”

He’s treating me well, but I hadn’t been treating him the same, Luci thought to herself.

On cue, there was a strong and loud knock on the door, which startled the family. Luci looked around with wide eyes before she got up from her seat and headed towards the door. Looking through the peep-hole, she saw Harry, which was a surprise.

She opened the door. “Hey-”

“What is this?” Harry interrupted. Luci stepped into the hallway, shutting the door behind her. He held his phone up to her face, and she scanned the article. Her eyes progressively widened as she quickly read it.

Presented on his phone was a thread of text messages from some woman that had sent Harry pictures of her and Nina on Luci’s birthday, dancing on the tables of a bar in Tribeca. There was another picture of her and Samuel; she had her head thrown back, laughing at something that he said but she was too drunk to remember. Another picture was when Samuel leaned into her ear, whispering something that she hadn’t had a clue about. If she was being completely honest, the pictures looked intimate; they were in close proximity because of the loud music and she noticed Samuel’s eyes sparkling as he looked at her.

Harry’s face was neutral and emotionless, but the fact that he showed no reaction or emotion only terrified her more because she knew behind the inexpressive face, he held anger inside.

“Where did you-”

“It doesn’t matter where I got this from. Now, tell me…what the fuck is this?”

“Harry…please let me explain.”

“I’ll give you five seconds to start explaining or else I’ll lose it-” The door behind her opened, revealing Beatrice.

“Harry!” She exclaimed, as if she hadn’t heard the loud voices from inside the apartment.

He immediately put his phone down, and if he wasn’t so shy in front of cameras, then he’d definitely hit the nail in the entertainment industry because he was quick to put up a front and mask his emotions that Luci was amazed at how fast he was able to do that.

“Beatrice, hello. It’s nice to see you again.” He smiled.

“We were actually just talking about you! Luci mentioned that you weren’t stopping by.” Luci closed her eyes; she loved her mother, she really did, but she really needed her to not talk.

“Did she?” Harry asked, amusing her.

“Yeah. Did you want to come in? We have plenty of food.”

Despite all feelings against Luci at the moment, she was still his girlfriend, and the last thing he wanted to do was be rude in front of her family. So, he told Beatrice ‘yes’ before walking past Luci and into her apartment.

It felt like it’d been ages since he was at her place—the unfortunate event of playing the waiting game. The air felt different, and for a momentary thought, it didn’t feel like home, but he assumed he’d only been thinking that because of everything that was happening between them.

Ren and Nathan greeted him excitedly, like the universe was listening to their conversation and had decided to bring Harry to Luci’s front door. Harry helped himself to a plate of food as his mouth watered at the aroma and sight of homemade food before joining the bunch on the couch.

They all chatted quite well; there were no awkward moments in between. Ideally, Luci would’ve loved this moment if it were any other time. Seeing Harry communicate and laugh with her family should make her heart swoon, but her heart didn’t have the ability to do that, as of now, because all she was thinking and worried about was Harry’s reaction and how he felt when he saw that particular article.

“Harry, I’m assuming you already saw Ocean’s Eight?” Nathan asked.

He nodded. “Yeah, I did. Luci’s…great, isn’t she? Like, proper talented. No wonder she was casted so quickly for her second movie.” Even though he held an ample amount of irritation towards her, he would never talk badly about Luci.

Harry looked at her, sitting beside him, finding her eyes already looking at him with a small smile on her face as if she was thanking him for always saying kind things about her; he turned away quickly before she got any ideas.

After a few more conversations and a pie for dessert, they all decided to call it a night. Harry thanked them all for letting him be the addition to their Thanksgiving dinner, and Beatrice had told him that he was welcomed any time for the November holiday, even though he didn’t celebrate it.

“I’m gonna walk him out.” Luci announced, but no one really listened as they cleaned up.

They headed out her door before Harry walked into his apartment, not bothering to close the door because Luci was following him. Finally, they were alone and had time for a decent conversation. Nerves crept onto her skin because all she could think about was how this conversation could end; they could talk it out and he would eventually forgive her, or he could break up with her and that would be the end of Luci and Harry. And for the first time, she hated the butterflies that erupted in her stomach; she hated the nervous feeling she felt in her chest; she hated the pounding of her heart as she looked at Harry because they were bad nerves, not the ones that made her feel giddy.

“I’m gonna give you a chance to explain. I don’t want to let this slide nor do I want to assume anything, so you’re going to explain everything that happened that night because the least you could do is that.” Harry crossed his arms as he spoke; the sight was intimidating.

Luci nodded, understanding. “Okay.” Harry didn’t say anything else, he sat on his couch as he waited for her to begin; Luci took a deep breath in. “So, Nina texted me and told me to go to her place for some day drinking because it was my birthday and she missed me, so I agreed to go. She texted me at noon and I got there around one, and there were a few other people there—already wasted. I didn’t know what the occasion was because I doubted those other people knew it was my birthday.”

“Other people?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, Samuel and some of Nina’s friends that I don’t know.”

“Samuel as in that guy you used to be with?” Harry also couldn’t forget about that time he saw both of them in the hallway, watching Samuel kiss her cheek. Without him fully knowing, he was jealous; he hated how much that simple gesture affected him.

Luci gulped. “Yeah. He has a girlfriend—Daisy, remember?” He inhaled, nodding. “I was surprised he was there, too—I didn’t know he was gonna be there. Anyways, we started drinking for hours, I’m pretty sure. I’d completely lost track of time because of how drunk I was already. But I knew it was late because it was already pitch black outside. Everyone wanted to go to a club that night, and I said ‘yes,’ but before we left, Nina and her friends were up in her room doing lines, and they offered me…”

Harry furrowed his brows concerningly. “Did you?”

“No, no! I didn’t. That part I remember because I didn’t want to be involved in that stuff. So, I sat back and waited for them. I must’ve fallen asleep for a little bit because Samuel woke me up and told me that we were leaving.”

Throughout her and Nina’s friendship—Luci didn’t think they were that close as Nina thought they were—she wouldn’t have guessed that Nina was using. But she figured that was the reason why Samuel was there, to provide them with a stash. It was quite a shock to Luci, even in her drunken state. Nina’s friends had continuously asked Luci if she wanted to try it, to go up into the bathroom and line it up on the cold counter by the sink, but Luci declined, telling them that she was okay and that she would wait for them. Paying no mind to her, they all went upstairs; Luci heard laughter coming from the second floor along with slight moaning after each line. She put herself to sleep, which her drunkenness helped; and for what seemed like hours, Samuel had woken her up and they left for the club.

“Okay, so the picture of you and Samuel? What’s that about?” Harry questioned.

If Luci could remember every single word from that conversation, then she would gladly tell him, but she doesn’t; she only remembered bits and pieces of that night before she went home. But she did know that nothing but a friendly chat occurred. “We were just talking, I swear. Nothing else happened. I remember he was apologizing for how he left things and he was telling me that he was happy about all the opportunities that I was given, and he talked about Daisy; that was it.” She paused, waiting for Harry to respond, but he stayed quiet. “And then I went home, realized that I missed our date and I was so mad at myself, and I know I shouldn’t have been annoyed or acted like a bitch to you because I had no right to act like that because you didn’t deserve it. I’m so sorry.” She apologized genuinely.

Luci had been beating herself up over what she did, and Harry noticed. He was good at reading her mind quite well, reading her like a book. He knew that she didn’t regret going out because she missed going out freely with her friends, but what she regretted was not going home earlier so she could make it just in time for their date; she regretted not contacting Harry, telling him that she was out or that she was going to be late so he didn’t have to wait for a night of anger and loneliness. He knew that much. If she hadn’t been so regretful, then this situation would’ve turned out very different, but she simply made a mistake, and Harry wasn’t going to let her beat herself up over that. People make mistakes. It happens.

“Okay…” He simply said. Luci looked dumbfounded over his words and how he felt. “It’s okay. We’re okay.” She let out the biggest breath of relief before wrapping her arms around his waist, laying her head against his chest. It’d been a very long two weeks since she was in his arms, since she’d heard his heartbeat close to her ear, and she never wanted to go a day without them. Luci had missed Harry; although he thinks he missed her more.

She tilted her head up. “I’m so sorry.” Tears filled her eyes.

“It’s okay.” He rubbed her back in reassurance, kissing her forehead. The slightest touch of his lips on her skin made a chill run down her spine; the familiar electric force had shocked her in the best and relieving way.

They stayed in each other’s arms for a while, not letting go of one another as if they were compensating for the time that was lost when they weren’t in each other’s hold, time that was wasted. After a while, Luci lifted her head up again, exhaustedly looking deeply into Harry’s eyes; he could see how tired she was since she hadn’t gotten a decent amount of sleep since their argument.

“Can I sleep here with you?” She asked hesitantly.

“What about your family?”

“They’re okay. I slept on an air mattress anyway because Nathan took the couch.” Harry slightly smiled at that. He loved how she was so selfless when it came to her family. He could tell just how much love she had for them just by simple gestures and how she admiringly talked about them.

“Okay, let’s go to sleep.”

He led her to his bedroom as they both climbed in under the sheets, pressing their bodies close to one another as a way to warm each other up. Their hearts were beating incredibly hard against their chests that poured out so much love, never once stopping the overload. They looked at each other, admiring the other’s features that they had memorized. If someone had asked them to draw a portrait of their significant love, they would draw each other with perfect precision.

“I love you. I always will.” Luci said within the midst of appreciating one’s art.

“I love you too.”

They quietly and slowly drifted off to sleep. Luci was the first to meet her slumber, and as Harry watched her as he scratched her head, watching the way she would deeply inhale and exhale, he then fell asleep.

That night, their sleep was undistracted and peaceful, and one of the best night’s rest they’d ever gotten within the past two weeks without the knowledge of the storm that was coming.

December 28, 2018

The indescribable bliss and love had lasted for thirty-six days until shit broke loose again.

For thirty-six days, Harry and Luci laughed, made love, spent their days together, and simply enjoyed the other’s presence. Their argument was long forgotten and in the past; Harry had forgiven her for everything she’d done and said that night on her birthday, and all was good again.

They were separated during Christmas; Harry went back home to Manchester as Luci went to Massachusetts. They considered spending the holiday with one another, but it wouldn’t have worked out since Harry’s family was in a completely different country. Luci, a person who can’t stand not seeing her family during the holiday, was thinking about going to England with Harry since he’d told her so many times that Anne would love to meet her and Gemma in person, but he couldn’t take her away from her family. So, he told her that there will be another time to do so, just not during a busy time.

Despite the time off, Luci was getting calls from Thea and Samantha, asking her if she’d want to work again in the next year, which Luci said an obvious yes to, so they booked her an audition for a television series that was about solving crimes and detective ethics; the first episode for the series was airing in the Fall of next year. She’d have to film throughout the end of Spring and going into the Summer, but it wasn’t as hectic and fast paced as a film production, thankfully.

Both Harry and Luci had decided to go back to New York just a tad bit earlier than when they’d usually leave for the holidays. Luci was excited to see her boyfriend again, and Harry? He couldn’t say the same.

Some random thought in his head told him to check his emails when he was waiting for his luggage at baggage claim. He mindlessly scrolled through the unopened emails that mostly included the subscriptions for his streaming services, his favorite clothing stores since he had a habit of shopping online way too much, and random stores that he never bought anything from but typed in his email anyways to get a free coupon for a percent off of something. But an email that caught his eye was from one he couldn’t recognize—most likely a pseudonym to reach him.

The email read: Might wanna check this out with a link that took him to a well-known media site, The Mass, that was known for twisting a celebrity’s word around. Not thinking of it too much, he read the headline that contained Luci’s name. He smiled a bit as this was the first article that was ever released of her. Just as he was about to send her the link, he kept scrolling, scanning over every word that was stated in the article. His smile had disappeared within every sentence that he read. His brows furrowed as he processed the words he was reading. And his heart sank throughout the entire article.

He put his phone away, grabbing his luggage that had circled around at least twice, and headed home. Harry tried to stay calm throughout the entire trip back home but his mind was swirling with unwanted thoughts, betrayal, and doubted love.

As he stood in front of his door, the door behind him had swung open, and before he got the chance to turn around, a pair of familiar arms were wrapped around his waist.

“Hi, my love. I missed you.” Luci’s hands rubbed up and down his chest, missing the feel of him. He hadn’t said anything, not one greeting. Instead, he turned around, making her grip on him loosen as he looked down at her. She was smiling, clearly clueless as to what he was feeling at the moment and oblivious about the article that was published about her.

Luci tiptoed to reach his lips before giving him a kiss. Just through that kiss itself, she knew something was wrong; he didn’t even kiss her back, which only pained both of them.

“Are you okay?” She asked. There was a bit of silence; the only thing that could be heard was Harry’s heartbeat that was pounding through his ears. “Hey, talk to me.”

Taking a deep breath, he started, “It took you thirty-six days for you to mess it all up again.”

Brows furrowed in confusion, Luci pulled back slightly. “What are you talking about?” She asked softly.

“Did Thea not tell you about the article that was published about you?” She shook her head, and Harry took a deep breath; he didn’t like that he was the one that had to inform her about it. “Someone sent me an article that was published on The Mass. It was an interview that took place after you filmed for Ocean’s Eight.”

Fuck.

A sudden realization hit her as she remembered the things she said in that interview—none of them were necessarily bad, but she did lie and say that she didn’t have a boyfriend when Harry was waiting for her at home.

The interview with Audrey had completely slipped her mind. She thought it would have been posted after the premiere, or even after filming was finished, but there was no story or article on her for months on end, so she’d forgotten about it and thought that it was completely dropped.

Her guess was that since her name was being put out there after filming for two big films, more people would want to read up on her. And she was glad now that people were more likely to search up her name on the search engine, but she really wished a section of that article didn’t exist.

“When did that interview happen?” He asked, breaking her out of her thoughts.

Luci took a deep breath. “In April.”

Harry closed his eyes for a moment, rubbing the skin between his eyebrows before he opened his eyes. “April. We were together in April. In fact, we never stopped being together. Why would you say you didn’t have a ‘lover’ or a boyfriend?”

“I…”

“Do you not want to be together? Is that what this is?” His tone was overbearing as it started to become more stern as he kept pressing.

“Of course, I want to be together-”

“Because it really seems like you don’t. Fuck, Ci. Do you even love me?”

“Yes! I love you!” She raised her voice, interrupting him as she wasn’t giving him a chance to speak. “How could you even question that?” Her eyes were filled with tears with how overwhelmed she was. “I love you so fucking much that it hurts. You’re everything to me, Harry. I want you all the time; I knew that from the moment I met you. So don’t doubt my love for you ever again.”

There was something attractive about declaring your love to someone so passionately in the middle of an argument that it almost made the other person want to rip their clothes off and fuck them in the hallway. That’s what Harry was thinking about right now, as inappropriate the timing was. Rage filled Luci as she proclaimed and spewed out her love; Harry, her love for Harry was her extreme joy.

“I don’t understand how you could say something like that, though.” He sighed, crossing his arms.

“I didn’t think this is what you wanted. You do realize that my name is spreading? And once they find out about you, all they’ll do is want pictures of you, even when I’m not with you! Is that what you want? Because I don’t. That’s a huge invasion of privacy that I’m not willing to share. No matter how much I love you, I don’t want to share you with the world.”

He nodded, understanding her words. But he felt a bit overwhelmed at the moment, and just needed time to breathe. “Okay. Just…just give me some time. I’m kinda overwhelmed with everything.”

Luci sighed sadly, but there was nothing she could do; she wasn’t going to deny him the space that he requested. “Alright.” She watched him open his door before entering, turning around to face her. “I love Harry. That’s going to change, I hope you know that.”

“I do.” He nodded. “Goodnight, Ci.”

Closing his door had, in a way, represented putting his guard up. He had been living freely with his guard down for a little more than a year, and this situation and the one prior had scared him a bit, so he needed to take some control in his feelings and his life; and if putting one guard up out of the four, then so be it.

Luci had spent the night alone, which was the exact opposite of her expectations when reuniting with Harry. She cried into her pillow, regretting every bad decision she made that had caused pain to him.

She then realized that he never said he loved her back, and he always said it back.

December 30, 2018

Luci didn’t have a clue as to how she survived the two weeks that Harry was mad at her because it seemed like the day and a half she was living through seemed much longer.

They hadn’t spoken since their reunion that turned into an argument, leading to Harry being disappointed in her…yet again.

Her anxiety was sky-rocketing; perhaps, that may be because she’d messed up twice already, so her thoughts had been on edge as they told her that this was the end—that he was done with her shit. She held so much love for him that she hoped that he didn’t see it as the end of the road—Luci didn’t know if she could handle that heartbreak, even though she was the one who caused him some pains and aches.

He doesn’t deserve that, he never did.

You don’t deserve him, her subconscious told her. Rolling her eyes to herself, she tried to push the negative thoughts out of her mind as they were driving like it was a race track, making her head hurt. The knock on her door had taken her out of her own head.

When she swung the door open, Harry was standing on the other side. He gave her a small smile—not the smile that he usually greeted her with, which she awfully missed very much, but it was a smile that was shown because he didn’t want to make it clear that he was disappointed.

“Hi, H.” Luci greeted softly.

“Hey, uh, are you busy?”

She shook her head. “No, I’ve got time for you.” Her words didn’t mean to come out in a flirty way, rather she meant them well and clearly.

“Okay. Do you wanna go to our spot?” He asked hesitantly. Harry had to encourage himself to even knock on her door, and he hated how tentative he was; that’s your girlfriend, for fuck sake, he had told himself.

“Yeah, of course. Let me just get my things.” Luci was always up for a trip to Coney Island; the spot that they made theirs. The spot that held so many memories and the most significant memory that beach held was the start of their love for one another.

Sure, it wasn’t the best idea to visit the beach during the wintertime, but neither of them cared enough to think about the temperature or if the soft grainy sand was covered in snow; they just needed to be in that specific place with one another.

The ride there was a quiet one—not so much peaceful as their minds were running haywire, but they’d managed to get to the cold beach without saying a word. They simply fell into an in sync step, walking side by side as their glove covered hands were stuffed inside of their own coat pockets for extra warmth when Luci would usually hold his hand inside of his pocket and cuddle up against each other as they walked through the cold.

Settling on the familiar spot on the snow covered sand, they stood a foot apart with their arms crossed as they watched the ocean crash onto the shore. Warmth radiated off their bodies due to the tension and nerves that coursed through their veins, which suddenly made the cold bearable as they stood next to each other. The only thing that was heard was the sound of nature, the sound of Mother Earth’s specialties that had surrounded them into a bubble of stillness. The silence was deafening.

Luci loathed the tension-filled silence; it definitely wasn’t her favorite thing when it came to her relationship with Harry. She had approximately three moments with him that included nerves filling her body; when she was in Singapore and told him that she didn’t feel like talking to him; the unfortunate event on her birthday that was entirely her fault; and the event that they’re going through now, yet again, her fault. She tried her very best to never get that certain feeling again, but she felt like a failure in doing so. And the only way they were going to fix it was by getting vulnerable, getting real; she’d felt like she did a very poor job with communicating on her end, and she was going to try to fix it.

“Someone had once told me that I was unlovable,” she started. “They said those words right to my face, and you could imagine how shocked I looked when they said them. They’d told me that the reason why I wasn’t in a real relationship all my life was because no one wanted me; they didn’t even look twice when I walked past them. No one was interested in me.”

She sighed, looking at Harry from her peripheral vision, and he still had his sight facing the water, but she knew that he was listening intently.

“And that’s hard coming from a family that was filled with so much love and respect for one another. It was a different reality than what I was used to. My parents make it seem so easy to love me, even though I’m a pain in their ass, but they never really complained about all my wants. When that person told me the harsh reality, I pushed people away. Whoever got close. Even when people had asked me out and seemed like they were interested in me throughout the years, I pushed them away and rejected them because I didn’t want to endure the pain that was inevitable.”

Turning her body towards him, she was shaking from the cold but also the ability to be vulnerable in front of her boyfriend for almost a year.

“Harry…” she called out softly. He looked at her, completely facing Luci. “I’m sorry for everything. I truly am. I’m sorry for pushing you away, and for not being here enough. I’m sorry for taking your kindness for granted and for making you doubt my love for you. You don’t deserve any heartache, and I promise, I’m still trying. I’m still new to this relationship stuff, so please be patient. I will spend forever trying and trying, trying to make you happy.”

Her words almost made a sob rip out of his mouth, but he contained his emotions well. Luci was cold, pouring out apologies and begging her for his forgiveness; she was new to vulnerability.

“I know I made a mistake—several of them—but I’m trying. If you…don’t want to be with me, then that’s understandable; I won’t blame you because, yeah, I haven’t been that great of a girlfriend to you and you deserve so, so much better; and I am sorry I couldn’t be that person to make you happy.” Her voice trailed off, cracking. Harry’s heart nearly broke at the sound of her voice as he tried to contain his emotions. “But miraculously, if you decide to forgive me, then we could work everything out. We’ll still grow and learn new things about each other, and it’ll be good from there, right?”

The sound of hope in her voice rang in his ears, and he couldn’t dare to listen to the heartbreak if he were to call it quits, which was a shock to hear her say that because she must’ve thought he was ending it for good; that thought made him sad. An abrupt flashback pounded in his brain as he remembered the happy memories they had with one another. A simpler time before the rain.

Just last year, they were in this exact same spot, watching the sun go down with one another in their arms. But as of now, they were standing a foot apart from each other, instead of sharing a kiss at how their relationship had made it through an entire year of ups and downs; they were unsure of their next move.

They had kept one another warm in the cold weather that breezed through them, but now, it seemed colder than usual. The air had wrapped its coldness around them, engulfing them into a hug.

Why didn’t the sun setting come with a warning sign to let them know what kind of storm was coming for them? It felt like their worlds had washed away into a whirlwind of displeasurable emotions; one they’d hoped they were strong enough to break through the storm.

Quite early in their relationship, they knew their relationship was going to be something special; they knew it was going to be one that was worth all the pain they’ve endured in the past; they knew it was the long haul that would last. The one obvious question that had run through their head like it was plastered on the big screen and written on the whiteboard was: how did everything go downhill so quickly?

He loved Luci with his entire heart. Sure, she’d made a few mistakes, but who hasn’t? They still had some issues to work out, such as communication and trust aspects of their relationship. But he wasn’t ready to let her go, and he really wasn’t planning on it. So, he said:

“We're gonna work this out.”

that’s the end of book one!

please come and talk to me about your favorite scenes and moments, and your thoughts and feelings! thank you so much for reading <3 book two will be posted soon!

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles ff #harry styles fic #harry styles x oc #harry styles series #harry styles writing #harry styles au #boyfriend!harry #teacher!harry #actress!oc

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