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ifancyharry · 2 years

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Too late

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Word count: 6.8k

What is it: childhood friends to strangers to lovers; YN is getting married and she and Harry haven't spoken in five years. Harry hopes it's not too late, because he's been in love with her since he was 10. angst

TW: mentions of marijuana

When Harry received the invite he was coming back from his usual morning run. It had started as a rather nice kind of morning, really; the weather was warm and the sun kissed his tights with every jog he took, turning his skin a nice golden color, but not enough to make him sweat to the point of grossness.

Days like that were rare in London, especially in May, so Harry, while he was running, thought about five nice things he could do outside to take advantage of the beautiful weather. Of course, he obviously hadn’t taken in prospective the possibility of getting home to an invitation to his best friend’s wedding, so instead of sun bathing, eating his favorite meal on the porch and whatever other three things he’d come up with, he closed the door behind him, shut all the blinds, and sat on his bathroom floor for hours. And not what felt like hours. He really sat there until his bum had taken the shape of the floor’s tiles.

He has to admit, albeit without little shame, he tried to throw up a couple of times. He most definitely knows how dramatic that sounds, but call it poetic license or a really bad taste in romantic movies, it felt appropriate at the time. Because he really did feel like throwing up.

When he started feeling too pathetic to excuse his behavior, he jogged downstairs once again, and he picked up the invite in between his fingers. If he’s being honest, he really hoped the letter wouldn’t be there anymore. He’d rather have imagined it. A nightmare he couldn’t seem to wake up from, or perhaps a sick joke? YN wasn’t like that. She could never joke about such things.

Harry was definitely the more unserious out of the two, and even he wouldn’t dare to pull such a prank on her. So he knew the invite was real.

After a brief moment where he seriously contemplated going MIA and pull another ‘kissy’ post and disappear until the upcoming year, he took out his phone from his hoodie’s pocket and opened the calendar app.

As he came closer to the date, he was praying to god he’d be busy. Call him coward all you want. He was really hoping YN chose the date of the Met (it’s not like he was planning on going, but he’d definitely reconsider if it meant missing her wedding) or the date he’d set for an album release. She hadn’t. She actually chose a nice, free Sunday at the end of the month. And Harry felt like lying on the bathroom floor all over again.

If Harry was any other person in the world, he would have felt guilty. Because you’re supposed to be happy if your best friend’s getting married. Except, Harry isn’t like other people. Because Harry’s been in love with YN since he was a child; since the very first moment she moved next door and Harry wasn’t even old enough to know what love was all about. He’s certainly aged now, and with it you’d think the love he felt for her could have subdued, or fade, but it never did. It stayed with him until the very day he received the invite.

Harry eyes briefly the piece of paper in his hands, ‘You’re invited to YN and Graham’s wedding’ and bla bla bla, written in that one font Harry despises (he truly doesn’t, he wasn’t even aware that font existed before this morning), and he feels the sudden urge to pick up a lighter and burn it. That’s how much he despises that font. That’s how much he loves YN. Because seeing her name close to another who isn’t his, makes him want to never get out of bed ever again — he contemplated doing that already, and, frankly, he probably will, at least until he isn’t required to do something like a show or whatever else Jeff schedules for him.

The thing is that the invite wouldn’t have had this effect on him if YN and Harry were still friends. Because despite Harry still calling YN his best friend, he doesn’t know if she considers him even a friend anymore, and he made it that way. It’s his fault. Harry, who’s someone who never takes accountability for anything, knows it’s his fault. And everyone around them knows, but sometimes Mitch, who maybe cares about him to the point of hiding the truth from him for his sake, tells him it wasn’t his fault entirely; he says: you followed your heart, so you made the right choice — which coming from Mitch means a lot. But Harry, despite appreciating the effort, knows it’s not true. Because he did follow his heart, but he lost her. So really, he would have preferred a life in pain beside her. Because now he’s still in pain but without her. So who won?

YN never thinks about Harry. She doesn’t think about him when she’s shopping at Primark and sees a fruit theme stuffy she knows he’d like, she doesn’t think about him when she gets in the car and her bluetooth connects to his playlist on her Spotify automatically (she told Graham many times it wasn’t her fault, it was kind of a default thing her car did), she’s not thinking about him now, in front of her closet, debating whether she should wear a dress he bought her for her wedding rehearsal dinner.

YN sometimes likes to pretend she never knew Harry. She likes to pretend she never moved next door to him when she was only ten, she likes to pretend he never auditioned on xfactor, she likes to pretend she loves Graham as much as she loves Harry.

Other times, YN likes to pretend there’s a universe in which Harry’s the one she’s marrying. In this universe, she imagines never meeting Graham, she imagines Harry never leaving and shattering her heart, she imagines the cat they’d adopt, the house they’d buy, how they’d raise their children; in this universe she sees herself always happy.

She knows she’s not being fair to Graham, so she lets herself linger in this universe only for a couple of minutes and especially on hard days when she feels overwhelmed, it doesn’t make it more morally right, she’s aware of that, but what else could she really do?

When YN sent Harry that invite, she certainly didn’t think he’d come. It’s not like she appositely called Jeff and asked — begged — him to free his schedule the day of her wedding. She asked Glenn instead because she’s friendlier with her.

A part of YN still wonders why she did it, from time to time. Maybe, if she was a bad person, she could’ve done it because she wanted Harry to see her happy and in love. But she’s not like that. She could never imagine hurting him in that way.

So, she always comes to the conclusion that maybe she sent the invite because she just misses him. It’s not like she has to have another reason. Missing him is enough.

She knows no one is truly aware of the affection she feels for Harry. What she feels for him isn’t nowhere near what she feels for Graham. In the past, she used to be so scared of feeling such things for another, because with those feelings came the realization that she also had something to lose. And she truly felt like she couldn’t do it without him.

But then, he left her. And she did do it without him. She met Graham, graduated college, and got engaged. And at one point, she felt like she’d give up everything to have Harry beside her again. So, can you blame her if she remembered his address by heart? Can you blame her if she invited him?

Harry feels like a pretentious asshole.

He hates his car; he hates the flashy yellow color of his Ferrari, the sound it makes when he revs the engine and all heads turn to look at him. All but one, because YN’s the only one that recognizes him by the sound of his car. Even five years later.

When he gets out of the car, he feels like everyone’s looking at him, and he doesn’t dare shift his gaze to see if she’s looking at him too. He feels like they all know what he did that night, that he broke her heart. He feels exposed before them.

He’s glad YN invited Jeff and Glenn too, and he waits for them to get out of their car too before approaching the crowd.

“So nice!” Glenn exclaims once she’s out of the car, shutting the passenger’s door loudly behind her.

Harry looks around and has to admit, it really is nice. A nice old cottage in the English countryside, with a big well-kept garden full of flowers he knows it’s where the wedding will take place (because YN loves flowers). It’s nice. He’d be a liar if he said otherwise, but it’s not YN. Because YN, or at least the version he knew of her, wanted to get married in the winter — on Christmas Eve —, in a small chalet with only her close family and friends, where the snow would never stop falling and they’d be forced to stay in with the fireplace popping and wool, chunky blankets to keep everyone warm.

“YN!” He hears Glenn once again, and he shifts his attention to her.

She’s standing on the porch, wrapped in a long black coat definitely too warm for the weather, and despite being far from where he’s standing, he can see her clearly. She hasn’t changed. It’s still her.

Harry doesn’t know what he was expecting. Maybe a more grown up version of her, definitely boring and that kind of resembled her mother a bit. He wasn’t expecting her. The YN he once knew still there, perhaps more beautiful than ever.

He feels his heart skip a beat, and with her walking slowly towards them, waving politely at a couple of guests that stop to greet her on the way, he feels warm. A kind of warm that resembles the one he felt as a kid when he was sick and his mum would take care of him. He feels something that reminds him of a certain familiarity, like he had been floating all this time and he’s finally back on the ground. He feels parts of himself coming back with every step she takes forward.

“Hello” he hears her giggle, and he feels the sound resonate in his chest, spreading all over his body up until the very end of his fingers.

“Hi!” Glenn squeals, shrugging her shoulders and stretching her arms forward, closing YN in a hug between her arms.

“I’m so happy you came” she says, her voice muffled by Glenn’s shoulder, and Harry isn’t sure if she means him too.

She hasn’t exactly looked at him, but Harry isn’t upset about that. He knows her. He knows how she is. She never makes eye contact when she’s uncomfortable. And Harry feels a certain smugness come with it. He’d rather make her uncomfortable than uninterested, because with her uncomfortableness comes the realization that maybe, maybe — deep down, under her skin and rooted in her heart — she did miss him too. And maybe it’s not like Mitch says. Maybe it was his fault and he should’ve fought for her.

However, Harry realizes things always late; because she’s getting married to someone else now.

YN briefly hugs Jeff too, and after that, she smiles awkwardly at Harry and waves at him with her hand, “Hey” she says, her hand dropping by her side.

“Hey” he replies, and he watches as she hugs the coat closer to her body as a sudden gust of wind embraces them, ruffing her hair. Harry can make out the faint scent of her shampoo, and as it fills his nostrils, his mind is swarmed with memories of hot summer nights where they would talk in bed for hours after swimming in his stepdad’s pool all day, minds free of whatever worry a 15 year old could have, sweaty bodies sticky together, tanned skin against skin, Harry not being able to make out where he’d end and she’d begin.

“This place is so nice!” Glenn interrupts, and YN is grateful for that, because she isn’t sure what she would’ve done if Glenn hadn’t talked. She fears she would’ve leaned in to hug Harry if she’d stared a second more into his green eyes.

In the five years they spent apart, YN always wondered if there would come a time when she’d no longer remember the exact shade of green of his eyes and the way they used to twinkle when he’d talk about something he was passionate about.

Now, YN doesn’t know what things Harry’s passionate about, but his eyes are the same color she remembered. Despite the stubble on his chin, and the cheeky grin he used to give her turning in a more mature one, his eyes stayed the same.

“I know, right! Graham picked it, he used to come here on vacation with his family when he was a child” YN smiles happily at Glenn, and turns her body to look around herself.

Harry frowns at her words. Of course Graham picked it. She never would’ve if it was up to her, he knew that. And somehow, call him an asshole all you want, he feels a certain smugness coming with the awareness that he knows YN more than her own fiancee does.

“It’s nice” he agrees, and he smirks at her when she snaps her head in his direction, probably not expecting him to talk, “but I prefer winter weddings, you know? With the snow and everything…”

YN’s happy smile turns in a frown when she hears the words come out of his mouth. She isn’t entirely sure about Harry’s motives. She doesn’t know if he remembers that she wanted to get married in winter or if he’s just expressing a preference. She doesn’t know this Harry anymore.

“It’s beautiful, YN” Jeff chimes in, and YN shifts her glance towards him and smiles at him too.

“Let’s go, then! I want to introduce you to Graham” she exclaims, and turns around, grabbing Glenn by the arm and intertwining it with hers.

“C’mon” Jeff says, patting Harry on the shoulder as an encouragement.

Harry nods and starts to walk beside him, his hands tucked in his pockets as another gust of wind flies over them.

He watches YN walk in front of him, too occupied to talk with Glenn to close her coat against the wind, and he’s sure he can make out the floral design of the Gucci dress he bought her on his vacation to Italy many years ago. How happy she looked when she opened it, and Harry remembers he thought about how much he wanted to buy her every pretty dress in the world if it meant seeing her so happy.

He kisses his mouth at the memory of every dress he saw in those five years and that he thought about buying. Now, knowing she still wears his gifts, he wishes he did. He wishes he bought everything that reminded him of her.

Harry knows it’s just a dress, and he shouldn’t get this flustered over such a simple thing as that! But with it comes the realization that maybe, in her deepest subconscious, she wore it for him. And Harry’s content with that. Because maybe then that means that those five years apart didn’t mean anything. Maybe then she missed him as much as he missed her. And Harry feels warm at the mere thought. Maybe he hasn’t lost her entirely.

Harry met Graham, and everything went somehow fine.

It’s not like she was imagining Harry fighting Graham over her — no, that’s just a thought that pops in her mind every once in a while when she catches herself fantasizing over what her life with Harry could be like.

It’s weird to YN how there’s someone in her life that Harry didn’t know until she introduced him. And not just someone; her future husband. It sets a weird kind of awareness, because until now she was almost pretending Harry was in an island unknown to mankind, without his phone and that’s why he wasn’t calling.

Now, seeing him shake her fiancee’s hand, smiling politely at him, she realizes Harry wasn’t stranded on an island without technology; the missing phone calls were a choice. So she should be happy she’s no longer involved with such a person.

Why isn’t she happy, though? Why does she catches herself wishing she could go up to his room, lay on his bed and talk to him?

She really wishes she could tell him she’s scared of marrying Graham. She knows he could tell him that and he wouldn’t judge her like everyone else would. She knows he’d have the answer. He’d say something like “get your stuff, I’ll start the car” and they’d laugh and run away to the nearest McDonald’s drive through to stuff their mouth with a big mc or some chicken nuggets, and Harry would purposely stain her wedding dress with barbecue sauce, and she’d laugh. As I said before, whenever she catches herself fantasizing about an alternative universe with Harry, she’s alway happy.

So, then, why didn’t she call? Why did she let five years pass? Five years without hearing his voice. Seeing his eyes.

She doesn’t know why.

At first she was mad, because Harry made love to her and then he left. So she was really really mad. Then, after the anger had subdued, she got scared. Scared he didn’t want her anymore. Scared their friendship wouldn’t be like before — now, she thinks it doesn’t matter if their friendship had changed. She wanted Harry around, no matter what.

She’s aware sometimes nostalgia makes you remember things that were never there. But she feels like it was different with Harry; it’s why she’s walking towards his room now, heart in her throat, and hands twitching at her sides.

She wishes it could be easier. She wishes she could be different. She has a fiancee. Why is she going to Harry’s room? Why did she invite him in the first place!

The cottage has six rooms upstairs, and she remembers exactly in which room she put Harry. He’s the only one without a plus one, so his room is smaller than the others. She hopes he liked it, but she knows he didn’t. It’s too fancy, for him. He doesn’t like flashy things, which is kind of ironic for someone who owns six cars, but who is she to judge when she helped him pick the very one he came here with?

When she stops in front of his door, she feels ashamed, and she’s scared someone may catch her, even if she’s not doing anything wrong, just greeting an old friend. But Harry wasn’t always a friend. There was one night in which they were more than friends, and she feels herself fluster at the thought of being alone with him in a bedroom.

She releases a big breath and closes her hand in a fist, knocking it against the door.

When he doesn’t answer she tries again, “Harry, it’s YN”, she clarifies.

Nothing.

She stands before the door for a couple of minutes, but then realizes he’s not going to answer. He doesn’t want to see her.

It’s fine. She’s fine.

She understands, it’s been five years. She can’t pretend nothing has changed between them. She feels stupid when she turns around to head back to her room and a single tear rolls down her cheek. She wipes it away before anyone can see. She refuses to cry. She cried enough when he left.

This gave her the answer she needed. She’s marrying Graham, and if before she wished Harry’d persuade her in not marrying him, she knows he doesn’t care now.

Harry’s sitting on the his bedroom’s floor, freshly showered, his hair still a little damp from the water, waiting near the outlet on the wall for his phone to charge. He’s playing with the chord of his phone’s charger as he listens to his mother rumble on the other side of the line.

He’s not paying much attention to what she’s saying, his mind is definitely more focused on this morning’s encounter he had with YN’s fiancee. Harry tried to be on his best behavior, because despite hating Graham, he loves YN and he wants to be respectful of her choices. Harry has always been someone that never fought for what he wanted. He kind of always went with other’s decisions. He doesn’t know why he’s like this. Sometimes he thinks it’s just easier to let others decide for you, other times he’s aware it’s a matter of accountability: he doesn’t want to be responsible for his own choices, because then if something goes wrong, he doesn’t have anyone to blame but himself.

“How’s YN? I’ve seen her Instagram and she looks even more beautiful” he hears his mum say, and his eyes widen at her words.

“Mmmh, yes, she’s beautiful” Harry agrees, chewing at the skin of his thumb.

“Do you think she’ll have a baby soon?” Anne asks, and Harry almost wants to throw his phone against the wall at the mere thought of the love of his life having a baby with someone else.

“I don’t know, mum… I don’t think so” he shakes his head, but his words aren’t that much convincing to him. He doesn’t know if YN wants to have a baby with Graham. She had expressed her desire to have a big family when they were still friends and when she thought the timing was right, but was it now? Was it with Graham? He honestly doesn’t know.

“You know, I always thought she had a little bit of a crush on you” Anne giggles, almost childishly.

“She’s getting married” Harry says, and his tone suddenly turned stern. He doesn’t want to be rude, especially to his mum, but thoughts of what could’ve been have been hunting him especially hard since he saw her, and he doesn’t want to come to terms with the fact that maybe something could’ve happened between them if he had been a little more brave.

“She isn’t married now” his mum says, and he rolls his lips in his mouth.

Weird enough, he knows what his mother means: she’s giving him an ultimatum, a sweet reminder that there’s still time. She’s not married yet. But what could Harry do? He really wishes someone could tell him. He wants his mum to say, Harry, tell her you love her before it’s too late. And he swears he’d do it. He’d do it right now. But coming up with that decision on his own? He’s not that much impulsive.

“Mum” he says, “I have to go now. It’s time for dinner”.

“Okay, my love.” She replies.

“We’ll talk tomorrow” he nods, and ends the call, throwing his phone in his lap.

He shuts his eyes tightly and his head drops between his knees, his hands reaching up to clutch his hair at the roots.

He feels pathetic. He feels like screaming in a pillow. He picks up his phone again and taps at the scree to check the time: 7.37 pm. At this time tomorrow the love of his life will be married to someone that’s not him.

Harry is late. Everyone has already eaten their appetizer and he still hasn’t shown up. Yn knows she probably shouldn’t care, especially after he didn’t answer the door after she knocked on it three times feeling like a naive teenager with a school crush. But still. She wonders what he’s doing. It’s not like she blames him, this dinner is pretty boring, and coming from the bride says a lot! But Graham especially requested no music and no dancing while eating, so the room is kind of quiet, albeit for a soft giggle or whispered words every once in a while.

She’s biting in her pasta when Harry walks in, and suddenly she feels breathless. He’s beautiful. The kind of beautiful that warms her insides and reminds her of the color yellow, the sun shining when they visited Rome together, the tan he used to get at his stepdad’s pool when she’d spend hours looking at his lips while he sunbathed and she wondered if they tasted like chlorine. Beautiful.

He walks slowly towards where he spots Jeff and Glenn, and YN looks at him shamelessly; he’s wearing cream tailored pants that hug his tights perfectly, paired with a silky blue blouse tucked at the front of the pants. She swallows the mouthful of pasta. When they were friends he definitely didn’t dress like that, he was more into skinny jeans and flowery button down shirts. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t like him like this. But, must I dare say, she’d like Harry even if he was wearing a trash bag.

He throws her an awkward smile before sitting down, and she shifts her eyes down on her plate, suddenly aware of being caught staring.

As dinner goes on, she never raises her eyes from her plate, not even when she feels a familiar pair of green eyes burning her skin.

YN pushes her palm against the wooden door and takes in a big breath once the fresh spring air hits her warm face. She takes a step outside and the door closes behind her with a thump. She cringes at the sound and hopes it didn’t wake anyone up.

It’s almost one in the morning and she couldn’t sleep. She doesn’t know wether it’s pre-wedding anxiety or the thought of another universe soon to be lost forever, but she felt a heavy weight on her chest that made it hard to breathe.

She looks at the garden before her and decides she wants to take a walk in the rose garden. She’s always loved flowers, and she thinks seeing some beauty could help her clear her mind.

She makes her way down the cobbled path, illuminated by some lamps paved across the way, but when she reaches the start of the rose garden, she has to blink a few times to accustom her eyes to the darkness.

The garden is the only thing she likes about her wedding location, and she’s thankful Graham agreed to get married there. He decided everything else, so at least he left that part up to her.

When she turns the corner of the hedge that divided the rose garden from the location of the wedding, she’s surprised to see a dark figure sitting in one of the reception’s chair.

She walks closer and she’s able to make out a familiar pair of broad shoulders bent over. Harry’s sitting on a chair from the first row, his head hanging low between his shrugged shoulders, his legs are slightly opened and his forearm is resting on one of his tights, the bright fire red of what she knows is a joint illuminating the side of his face.

She’d recognize Harry even in darkness, but she still feels her heart fall to her chest when she realizes he’s right in front of her, sitting probably where he’d be tomorrow.

She debates whether she should go sit next to him or go back to her room and pretend she never saw him. It’s almost like she can’t control her own legs when they start to walk towards him.

With the movement, Harry turns his head around and his eyes widen at the sight; YN’s walking towards him, but what’s most shocking to him is that she’s making her way down the aisle. He suddenly gets up on his feet when he sees her, and when she stops right in front of him, she gives him a mischievous smile.

She’s breath taking. If this is what Graham will see tomorrow, he doesn’t know how he’ll manage not to faint.

“Walked like a true bride!” He says jokingly, and she giggles at his words, slapping his chest lightly. Harry feels the skin burn under her touch.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He asks, and she shakes her head.

“Can I?” She says, gesturing to the lit joint he’s holding between his fingers. He’d almost forgotten what he was doing before she appeared.

“Mhmh” he nods, stretching his arm.

She doesn’t take the joint from his fingers though, she just opens her mouth and waits for him to place it between her lips, and Harry swears he can feel himself faint, his head dizzy with all the love he feels for her.

He holds the joint between her lips and she takes a long drag from it, tilting her head towards his fingers, closing her eyes after she inhales. She opens her mouth again and opens her eyes as she exhales the smoke from her mouth, Harry watching closely her every movement, his eyes dark and glazed over.

He watches as she turns around and sits on one of the white chairs, the one next to where he was sitting before, and she tugs one leg to her chest as she hugs it closer to her chest.

Harry stays standing before her for a while, looking at the faint image of the cottage behind her and absentmindedly smoking his joint. When he feels her eyes on him, he looks down at her. It’s been years since they’ve been this close, and suddenly he’s 15 years old again, his hands twitching at his sides from how much he wants to stretch them out and just touch her.

“Graham is nice” he says, and immediately after he cursers himself in his mind for ruining the moment when he sees her gaze harden.

“Yeah, he is…” she whispers.

Harry tilts the joint towards her to ask her if she wants another hit, but she shakes her head no and he drops his hand at his side, nodding his head.

“I really like the place, by the way. I was only teasing this morning” he shrugs, smiling at her.

“You were?” She asks, and when he nods she says, “so you remember?”

“Of course I remember.” And he doesn’t have to say anything more, because they both know what he means.

“Graham picked everything” she releases a shaky breath at that, and Harry takes another drag from his joint and raises both his eyebrows to signal her to continue as he exhales the smoke from his mouth.

“I wasn’t… I didn’t want this” she shakes her head, shifting her gaze from his eyes to an indefinite point behind him.

Harry wonders whether she means the cottage or the wedding. Perhaps she even means their fight. He doesn’t know and he doesn’t dare ask, ignoring the voice in his head telling him that maybe she’s offering him an opening to a conversation he isn’t sure he wants to have.

“I’m sure it’ll be wonderful anyway.” He smiles and throws the joint’s butt on the grass.

“Yeah” she nods firmly, and he’s aware of the tension lingering between them.

“I better go,” she says, getting up from the chair and tugging at the sleeves of her sweater to cover her hands “big day tomorrow”.

She smiles awkwardly at him when she walks past him, and Harry notices the smile doesn’t reach her eyes.

He shifts his gaze in front of him, staring out in the darkness. He’s about to lose her all over again, the bitter night five years prior vivid in his memory, hitting him like a bullet. He thought the pain from leaving her that night had left, and he wonders how much time it will take for it to stop hurting. Maybe it never will.

He’s sure he doesn’t want to live his life with the memory of her back planted in his brain, leaving him once again. He doesn’t want to think back to her and remember her like this. Leaving.

So, when she’s about mid way through the aisle, he calls her name.

He doesn’t have a speech in his mind, and when she turns around with her brows furrowed and her shoulders sagged he doesn’t really know what to say, how to tell her.

“What, Harry?” It’s the first time he hears her say his name in five years, and he’s upset she sounds so defeated. He wishes he could make this easier for her, but he doesn’t know how.

His chest floats as he takes a big breath.

“Whatever” she says, shaking her head, but Harry notices she doesn’t turn around.

“Don’t marry him” it’s the only thing he manages to say, and he isn’t even looking at her, he’s still looking out in front of him, and she wishes he could look at her to see if he’s joking or not.

She scoffs, because despite the words coming out of his mouth made her insides warm , she isn’t sure if he’s being serious. “You’re so… so immature! You enrage me!”

“No, no!” He hurries, waving his palms in front of him. “Hear me out, then you can — you can leave. if you want you can leave.” He nods, trying to convince himself, but he really doesn’t want her to leave.

“Don’t marry him. You know he’s not right for you! He… he’s controlling, he doesn’t know you! You shouldn’t marry someone like that.” He’s standing in front of her now, and he grabs her hands in his.

“Is that the only reason you don’t want me to marry him?” She whispers, looking up in his eyes.

“No… i-“ he sighs.

“You can’t even say it, Harry.” She frowns, trying to free her hands from his grip, but he only tightens it, intertwining his fingers with hers.

“I can say it.” He nods, “i don’t want you to marry him because I want it to be me. I— I have loved you since I could remember.”

She shuts her eyes tightly at his words, “you don’t mean that”.

Harry frees her hands and reaches for her face, caressing her warm cheeks with his thumbs.

“I do. I do.” He nods, “look at me, angel — please look at me”

YN opens her eyes and Harry can feel his heart clench at the sight of her beautiful eyes filled with tears.

“You had me, Harry. All those years ago, you had me. But you let me go! You have no idea how… how hard it was”

This time, Harry closes his eyes and then reopens them, despite being aware, the thought of making her suffer is hard to face.

“I thought… I didn’t…—“ he shakes his head, his hands still keeping the firm grip on her face, “my life was hard, YN. It was crazy. I thought… you weren’t ready. I didn’t want to ruin you.”

“You did anyway. I hated you for what you did to me. I hated you for leaving.” She frowns, tears spilling from her eyes, but Harry wipes quickly at them with his thumb before they can roll down her cheeks. He leans down to place a delicate kiss between her eyes.

“I never once left you. In my heart it has always been you.”

He can feel her start to soften, but the she says “It’s too late now.”, and she shakes her head, her hands reaching up to remove Harry’s from her face. He complies, not wanting to force her. “I’m getting married, tomorrow.”

“Angel, please” he whispers, but she’s already turned around, and Harry’s left alone in the middle of the aisle.

Suddenly he feels nauseous, and he brings a hand to his chest to calm his restless heart. As I said before, Harry realizes things always too late.

The next morning, Harry wakes up on his bed with the sound of an alarm he forgot he’d set. As he rubs the sleep off his eyes, he can’t wait to get the hell out of this place as soon as he can, and when he reaches for his phone and checks the time, he remembers why he set the alarm so early in the morning: this way he can avoid everyone from the ceremony on his way out.

He can’t bare the thought of sitting through the wedding. He’ll send YN some fancy gift that she’ll enjoy with her husband and then he’ll disappear from her life once again.

He knows it’s better this way.

He did it one time before. He knows already how long it will take to mourn their lost friendship and get back on track. The sooner he goes home and sleeps his feelings off, the sooner he’ll feel better.

He hurriedly throws his clothes in his suitcase, without caring if they get wrinkly or ruined. He grabs his phone and its charger and doesn’t even bother to check the bathroom twice to see if he left something behind. He doesn’t care, he’s eager to get far away and never face the heartbreak he’s leaving with.

As soon as he opens the door, though, the bag in his hand falls from his grip to the ground as he takes in the image in front of him.

YN’s against the other side of the wall, her head hung low between her shoulders.

“YN?” He asks, and she looks at him with her big, glossy eyes, and Harry feels like staying. He feels like grabbing her hand and tugging her inside, kissing her until he’s finally able to show her how much he loves her.

“I’m not… I—“ she shakes her head, her voice trembling as she gets her back off the wall and takes a step towards him, “i called the wedding off.”

It’s the only thing she says, but Harry feels butterflies fly in his stomach. His heart clenches in his chest, and he has to bring a hand to his chest like he did the night before to make sure he’s not having a heart attack.

“It’s not too late.” She whispers, “if you still want me, it’s not too late.”

Harry reaches up to her and tugs her closer to him by her arm.

“I’ll never not want you”.

YN steps in the room and closes the door behind her, and Harry gently takes her face in his hands and tilts her head up. He looks from one eye to the other attentively before placing his lips against hers, and he almost contemplates not closing his eyes in fear she’d no longer be there when he reopens them, but YN moves her hands from his neck, to his shoulders, and he feels her grabbing his shirt between her fingers and holding him closer, her fingers digging in his skin. She’s real. She’s here, and he’s kissing her. It’s been five years since he’s last tasted her, and this time he’s kissing her without guilt. Because it’s not too late. Life just started.

YN parts her lips slightly and Harry sucks her bottoms lip in his mouth, eager to taste her more.

His tongue licks over her lips and when she whimpers against his lips, he sneaks his tongue inside her mouth and caresses hers with his. He explores her mouth like his life depends on it, and he feels like he wants to drink her. He wants to get drunk on her taste and never recover.

YN moves her hands from his shoulders to the hem of his shirt, tugging on it, and Harry parts from her mouth breathlessly. He feels dizzy and he’s not entirely sure it’s from the lack of air.

“No” he says, taking her hands in his and squeezing them in his grasp.

YN pouts at him and he tilts his head to kiss it away from her lips with a brief peck: “i want you. I really do. But not here”.

She widens her eyes at his words and realizes she was almost about to have sex with Harry when her ex fiancee and his family could hear them. She giggles loudly at the thought, and Harry, despite not knowing why she’s laughing, lets out a chuckle, shaking his head and looking at her with a bewildered look in his eyes.

“Let’s leave then.” She says when she calms down.

“Okay.” He nods, picking up his bag from the floor, “get your stuff. I’ll start the car.”

YN bites down on her bottom lip hard, trying to suppress the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“What?” He says once he realizes she still hasn’t moved from her place.

She shakes her head, “nothing” she says, “i’m glad I wasn’t too late.”

“You could never be too late” he smiles, and he hopes she knows he’d wait for her all his life if it meant having her beside him.

#harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot #harrystyles #harry styles #harry syles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x y/n #harry styles writing #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #best friend!harry #friends to lovers

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fishnets-fingers · 2 years

Text

Out by the Docks

“Did you um- have you… touched yourself more to the thought of me?” She asks him quietly.

“What do you think, hmm?” He responds with a smile. He had come on his stomach and hands an embarrassing amount of times replaying that night. It was pathetic how much she had him in a chokehold.

“I would like to kiss you,” she says, scooting forward to slot her knees between his. “Would you like that too?”

He nods, tongue licking his lips in anticipation as his heart kicks up again. The butterflies start flapping about in his tummy as she leans in with puckered lips.

“I said that I’d like to kiss you not that you could,” he explains when she looks at him with furrowed brows. “You gotta ask me nicely, if you want me to kiss you,” he teases, kissing the tip of her nose.

“You want me to beg?” She scoffs.

PAIRING - spy!harry x princess!y/n

a/n - the long awaited part two to forbidden hours. it was initially supposed to be a small blurb that somehow became twice as long. thank you for waiting and i hope you like this part as much as i do. if you have any requests or ideas for the next part, let me know. as always, like and reblog. feed back is not only appreciated but much welcome. happy reading!

Word Count - 6.2k (not proofread)

MASTERPOST

.....

பரிசோதி. Examine. Harry runs a check of his catamaran for the fourth time in the past hour. Sailing was something he grew up doing and that did not mean he took it nonchalantly. It was not an easy task in the slightest; if one was not cognizant and five steps ahead of every single aspect of it, the sea would consume them. In a lot of ways it was an intricately woven tapestry of mastering the control of being at the mercy of the ocean. Two completely opposing beliefs somehow meshing together - like acrobats swinging from one side to another, it might seem like they are at the mercy of gravity and the ropes beneath them but they spend their lives mastering and learning how to taunt the inevitable forces without succumbing to it.

“The sea is a cruel mistress, Harry,” his father would often bark at him when he got one of the knots wrong. Which would then result with him doing a plethora of knots over the next few days until his father was convinced he could hold his own with the crew. He looks around, one more time, for good measure. His oars were greased up, the fabric of the sail - albeit dirty - was without tears, he had more ropes than necessary, a smaller set of paddles in case he’d lost it, food to hold him over, and a can of water.

Late, he sighs, sitting in his boat that was bobbing along with the lazy waves. The sun was over his head shining radiantly casting small shadows. It was past noon and no one had come to hand him the message from Princess Y/N. Did she forget? Can’t be. Maybe the stupid guard is lost, besides, the docks were vast. He reaches into his bag grabbing a fistful of puffed rice and throws it in the water, making the fish - that were previously eating the algae from the sides of his boat - flounder up and nibble on the white flakes. He looks over at their streamlined moist bodies flipping over others as they ravenously eat the floating white specs and his hands absentmindedly tightens the knot that was anchoring his boat to the side of the docks.

“Took you long enough. Have you no regard for people’s time,” he grumbles, as a shadow blocks the beam out light illuminating the iridescent scales of the fish.

“That’s no way to speak to the Princess,” she replies, with a hint of mirth in her tone. He whips his head around to find Y/N towering over him on the wooden dock.

“I apologise, your highness. I did not know it was you,” his cheeks tinge with pink as he vaults over to the wooden structure.

Y/N did not look like a member of the royal family today. There were no silks or expensive jewelry adorning her body, her hair was not done up high with flowers. It didn’t make her any less captivating in the slightest with her raven hair slicked back in a low bun, a red cotton saree with the long end twisted around her waist to make a belt to keep the top half of the saree intact since she was not wearing a blouse, and a small black dot in between her eyebrows. She had clasped an oxidised silver ornament around her neck and a small ring around her septum. She looked like she’s spent her whole life here out by the docks rather than the giant mansions with sprawling gardens.

“You - um - look-” Harry starts.

“I’m in disguise, Mr. Styles.” She answers, pulling out a blank parchment paper and hands it over to him. “I apologise for being late. I had stopped by the bazaar.”

“The bazaar, Princess Y/N,” he repeats, looking over her shoulder to find it empty.

“Having guards following me sort of defeats the purpose of the disguise, Harry.” She catches on as his eyes scan behind her.

“Of course.” He looks at the parchment in his hands turning it around. “It’s blank.”

“It is.”

“I thought I needed to sail to Lanka to deliver a message, ma’am,” he mumbles, looking down at the sheet of yellowed pulp running his thumb over to feel for any creases or indentations.

“Ma’am,” Y/N snorts out. “Really? You’re calling me a ma’am after what happened the other night,” she says, shaking her head in disbelief.

“It’s protocol,” he tells her blankly.

“Was it also protocol to crowd me against my desk in the middle of the night?” She arches her brow, enjoying the way his face flushes with colour. “The message is intended for the recipient’s eyes only. Karthi will know what to do.”

He nods, folding the paper and slotting it into a small zipped pocket of his dhoti pants. “I should set sail soon,” he informs her, making his way into his vessel. “Looks like a storm’s heading this way.”

“How can you tell, Mr. Styles,” she asks, stepping forward to look over at the horizon to find rain laden grey clouds but is instead met with tiny fluffy cotton akin ones dotting the powdery blue skies.

“I can smell it. There was a ring around the moon last night and red skies at dawn. It probably won’t break ground until a few days.”

“Very impressive,” she praises, looking down at him. “Here, I bought you some food for your travel,” she shifts through her linen bag that was draped over her shoulder. She pulls out a box of rambutan and some partially cooked spiced lentils.

“Thank you, Princess.” He stashes it next to his metal box of food supply. “Do you come to town often in your disguise?”

“Not very-” she is interrupted by the sound of people marching and a loud whistle followed by a booming voice asking the soldiers to fall in a single file. “That’s the admiral,” she whispers, eyes bulging out of her head. “Fuck. If he catches me I’m so dead.”

“Hop on,” Harry tells her.

“What?!?” She whisper shouts at him. “I have to head back.”

“I’ll take you to the palace. I know a way - right behind your garden. Get in,” Harry offers, coming over to the side and holding onto the side of the dock.

Y/N balks, looking down at his rickety catamaran. The structure looked like it was going to wither away in a few days - calling it old would be an insult at this point. Prehistoric was more so the right word. The ropes were frayed and seemed used. She is pretty sure the thing was built before she was born. No way in hell, she shakes her head.

“Princess,” he urges, as the sounds of footfall grow closer and closer.

“I’ll walk back. Maybe I can slip past them,” she tells him.

“It sounds like twenty men, how are you going to slip past all of them,” he shakes his head. “You’ll only be dragging me down with you.”

“I’ve slipped in and out of the castle loads of times,” she reasons.

“There’s only one way out of here, unless you fancy swimming,” Harry points out. “Y/N,” he insists, holding out one of his hands. She lets out a sigh and grips his palm as she climbs into the bobbing catamaran. Once she gets situated, Harry grips onto the oars and starts speedily rowing from the dock, away from the bay.

Harry looks over her every so often at Y/N as he steadily paddles his boat away. She was curled into herself, looking very unsure with her hands wrapped around her arms as she looked back at the disappearing docks. When the vessel bobs due to a sudden current she pales, gripping onto the wooden plank of her seat firmly, eyes never drifting back to the pier. He’s never seen her like that, and he certainly did not peg her to experience trepidation, uncertainty, and fret. The memory of the first time he met her was etched into the deep recesses of his brain.

It was eight months since he’d seen her for the first time. He had quickly become fast friends with the Crown Prince - her older brother - who had invited him to train within the palace grounds. He made his way into the halls of the building in wonder of tall ceilings and intricately carved woodwork and artwork and was led to the sparring arena. Vikram was waiting for him sans armour - he believed that having armour on while practice lets one have a certain air of nonchalance with the training thereby removing the stakes. His moves and close combat skills were immediately applauded by the members there with the Princes - Vikram and Karthi - asking a guard to take him to the stables, so he could pick his own horse and learn how to ride. That’s when Y/N walked into the arena, dressed immaculately in a cream silk saree and a colourful pashmina wrapped around her shoulders. There was no jewelry on her body other than a pearl choker and her hair was pulled back into a loose braid. There were four other handmaidens following her, who’d stopped at their tracks by the opened double doors as they giggled at the sweat laden covered men.

“What?” She stalked forward and snapped at her brothers.

“Good day to you too, little girl,” Vikram mocks.

“I have far more important things to do than entertain you, Vikram.”

“Don’t get snippy with me because I pulled you out of philosophy class -”

“A class you should be attending,” Karthi notes, throwing his arm around his sister’s shoulder. “One word to the Queen Mother and you won’t see the outside of the library for the next month,” the two giggle together.

“Books don’t teach you anything, combat does. Anyway don’t go ganging up on me,” Vikram raises his hands in submission. “I just called you to meet my new friend,” he cocks his head to the side. “Y/N meet Harry Edwards Styles.”

Harry feels her gaze pierce right through him, her eyes roamed up and down his body. Being scrutinised made him straighten his back upright - mostly in a way to show off his stature. After a few moments her hickory eyes finally settled at his jade orbs. “Mr. Styles,” she greets him with a polite smile. “You must be the sea merchant who’d bought the crates of berry seeds.”

“Your highness,” he bows. “The sea merchant is my father.”

“Ah, makes sense. You seem awfully young to master navigating the treacherous waters of the Pacific.”

“Thank you, Princess,” he mutters, cheeks heating up at her calling him young.

“That was hardly a compliment, Mr. Styles. I was simply noting your lack of experience,” she lifts up her chin, keeping it parallel to the floor. “I understand from what my brothers have told me you plan on riding to battle with Vikram.”

“Yes, your majesty.”

“As noble as your intentions are, how are we to know your allegiance lies with the flag of Chozhamandalam? You landed here seven- eight months ago, am I wrong? I don’t doubt that you’ve seen many kingdoms in your father’s quests, why are you choosing to devote your life to mine? Why not the Crown of England, the land of you and your forefathers?”

“Y/N,” Vikram states firmly. “You are insulting my friend by insinuating things.”

“I’m not insinuating anything, Vikarm. I’m simply doing the grunt work for you like always,” she bites back.

“Stop th-”

“Well she’s not wrong to ask this, brother. Especially after what happened the last time,” Karthi notes.

“You two never stop throwing what happened ten years ago in my face every single time,” Vikram gets frustrated.

“Your highnesses,” Harry interrupts their squabble. The princess staggered him in a lot of ways, she just met him but it seemed that she had some sort of an upper hand with him and it didn’t stem from her lineage. She seemed to know a lot about him from growing up in different parts of the world to the seeds his father’s crew arrived with. Surely royalty had no business knowing inventory of all the consignments at the ports; he’s sure they had people for that. His accent once thick and pronounced - resembling the dialect of his mother’s village - had now got muddled up spending time with his father’s crew men and it’s settled into a transatlantic hybrid; is that how she pegged him to be English?

Unlike most women he’s met, Princess Y/N looks directly at him - through him in a manner of speaking - holding eye contact until their exchanges come to a halt. It felt as if she was giving you her utmost attention at all times, but it was also unnerving because Harry felt like she was also playing a game of chess. Slotting individuals in their designated squares after she thoroughly sized someone up. She was still breathtaking as the day he first laid eyes on her but seeing her up close with her gaze trained on him, made him gulp down the nerves that made him feel like she was a step above him, as he spoke, “I understand the need for Princess Y/N to ask me those questions… If I may,” he looks at her brothers flanking her sides for approval.

“Please do, Mr. Styles.” She motions with her hand for him to continue.

“You are right, Princess Y/N, I have spent very little time in your dynasty as compared to everyone in this room but it does not take away my love for the people. You see, I have seen many places sailing with my father but almost all of them considered me a passerby - especially countries where people looked different to me. I have seen people treat people like sewage based on the colour of their skin, the faith they practice, or the wealth they’ve inherited. The first day I came to these shores, unloading heavy crates at the port, an old woman - who was walking off with a basket of fish - came up to the crew and noticed that we looked worn out and offered up some of the fresh catch so we could cook and eat. The captain denied it, but she insisted we must eat and somehow managed to have my father and the crew over to her house. She cooked for us. A woman who we did not know up until that day, invited strangers into her house and made us a hearty meal. So, to answer your question, my allegiance lies with the people, not a flag.”

“Satisfied?” Vikram smirks, taunting Y/N by bumping his shoulder on hers.

“And as for England, I haven’t been there in forever. I don’t have any ties that bind me other than it being the country my mother resided in.”

“Seems like you have your way with words, Mr. Styles,” she smiles up at him. Harry can’t help the way satisfaction brews in his chest in response to her smile.

“Oh, Y/N, Harry is good with swords, too,” Karthi tells her.

“That so?” She arches her brow. “Now that is something I need to witness,” she says, walking over and picking one of the swords that was mounted on the wall.

She unsheathes it, swishing it once to get a sense of its weight, before stepping into the circle. “I like a good challenge. Hope you deliver,” she tells him.

“I don’t quite understand,” he says, looking around the room for signs that it was an elaborate plan, only to be met with none. “Princess Y/N, I’m not going to fight you,” he steps back.

“Why not?” She arches her brows, pulling off the pashmina that was wrapped around herself and tossing it onto the readily waiting hands of a scurrying handmaiden.

“Because women do not fight, ma’am,” he mumbles, and both Princes snicker at his response.

“Do not? Or not allowed to.” She challenges him.

“It is not what I mean-”

“Do you dare disobey my orders?” Y/N cuts him off. “Now fight. Don’t let up easy because you think women can’t hold their own. If you do, I’ll make you disappear without a trace.”

He nods, squaring his shoulders and hoisting up his own sword. Far be it for him to disobey the Princess Royal. He’ll give her the fight she was asking for.

He advances first, much to his surprise. He expected her to charge at him but she gilded around the periphery matching his moves, unwilling to attack. She swivels his sword to the side and from then their duel mimicked a dance They moved harmoniously, almost like each move was choreographed, both matching each other moves, the sharp end of the blades kissing each other only to be redirected elsewhere. He can’t help but get distracted by the way her supple skin feels when she brushes past him, and the way her scent niggles his heart. He wonders if she feels it too, but no cues that signaled him. They were synchronized - strike for strike, manoeuvre for manoeuvre, a sharp turn for a turn. But when Harry notices, her eyes darting to his feet, he figures out her next move and backs away when she advances forward trying to trip his feet with her own as her sword swivels around. It happens seamlessly, Harry twists around to trap her arm that’s clutching the sword and lunges forward to press the tip of his scimitar to her side of her throat.

He expects her to look up at him with surprise and even a hint of admiration - both looks he was no stranger to from women - but there was no sense of defeat in her face. Instead, her eyes glinted at him as her lips tugged up in a smug smile. His brows knit in confusion and he follows her eyes, feeling a pointy object push against his sternum - harder this time. Y/N’s holding up a small shiv, which she tugged from its sheath tucked against her waist, angled directly for his heart.

“A stalemate,” she informs him.

“How?” He asks, suddenly very aware that he’s got her pressed against him in front of a dozen people. She looks even more beautiful up close, with a bead of sweat running down her temple, her honeyed skin flushed from exertion, her full cheeks, flecks of gold in her eyes under the sunlight, a tiny crescent shaped birthmark on the corner of her chin, lips like a flower petal.

He’s almost reluctant to let her get away from his grasp when she steps backward, immediately missing her warmth on him. A soldier collects the sword from her, before she tucks her shiv away in its holder. She explains, while draping her pashmina the handmaiden scurried over to give, “You got cocky. You thought you figured out my next move and thereby acted in a manner that made your vision tunnel to the sword in my hand. While you celebrated your victory before your sword even touched my throat, you failed to realise that I had a shiv pointed at your heart.”

Her loud exhale of relief snaps him out of his reverie, her shoulder relaxes a smidge but Harry notices that she’s still tightly wound. Her arms are crossed protectively around herself with her knees towards her chest. She should look out of place in the catamaran he’d bought a few months ago at a bargain - bear boned structure unlike the things she was used to - but she didn’t. Almost like the wooden plank in front of him was made for her. She didn’t look out of place, just a tad nervous. “We’re in the clear,” she declares, once the pier completely disappears from view as he rows over to another bay nearby. It was rocky and jagged, lined with palm and coconut trees, dense with shrubbery sprouting all over the sand with an odd dollop of violet flowers breaking the monotony of green.

“Told you I knew a place,” he smirks. “Besides,” he remarks, leaning backward to get more movement with his row as he navigates away from the rocks and towards the shore. “It’s the least I could do. Disguising yourself and coming all the way to the docks to give me food and bid me farewell.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Y/N scoffs. “I didn’t sneak out of the palace for you.”

“Why do I find that hard to believe?”

“Stop being so cocky,” she admonishes him as her eyes fall on the way the muscles on his arm flex and bulge as he moves the oars. The veins on his hands looked delicious with the way he gripped the oars as he tugs and pulls back as he moves.

“Can’t help it, Princess.” He chuckles. “Especially with you drooling over my arms.”

Y/N feels the heat scorch her cheeks from his comment, immediately tearing her eyes away. “Shut up, Harry.”

“How was your trip to the capital? Did you confront your Uncle?” He inquires, asking her about the incident that led him to break into her chamber.

“Busy. The capital is never not busy. Dad’s sick,” she adds the last part quietly.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” There has been a hushed talk among the people about the King’s decline in health. Stories of people coming down from the far East and embedding needles in his flesh, and letting leeches draw impure blood spread like wildfire.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry about. People contract illnesses all the time. I’m sure it will pass.” She turns to the shores, eyes scanning to see if there are people around and Harry does the same, even if he knows that this area of the bay is always deserted. “I didn’t talk to my Uncle,” she answers.

“Why not? Won’t it be best to put a stop to it right now?”

“Why would I let him know that I know what he’s plotting?” She shrugs. “It’s not about putting a stop to it, it’s how you do it. I didn’t talk to him. I asked to meet with the governors instead. Told them it was time we start looking for brides for the future King. With Dad’s health, we must be prepared for Vikaram’s coronation and it would not be a good look, if he did not have a queen by his side at age of twenty five.”

“That helps how?”

“Easy. While they were busy squabbling over what kingdom to approach for talks of courtships, with fear brewing in their chest about the possibility of the Dynasty having added support from another kingdom. I’d simply said that I do not wish that and I would much rather prefer that the Crown Prince marry a Chola woman of nobility - one that knows our ways and our people. I’d pointed out that many of the governors - especially the ones who were meeting with my Uncle - themselves have daughters who were fit to be the future queen,” she smiles, satisfied with herself.

“Smart. There’s no way they’re going to support your Uncle now. Pitting swindling tax money and being the power that comes with being father of a future queen. Why would they not want to be the in-law of the Crown?”

“Exactly. You seed the idea of climbing up the ladder, and they are putty. There’s nothing more seductive than power. My Uncle’s support ought to dwindle.”

She is a good politician and the thought makes his chest swell in pride. Harry will never understand royal life. He covets the glitz and glamour that comes with hitting the genetic lottery but the more he spent time with the heirs the more he learnt that it was all exhausting mind games, endless duties to fulfil along with conducting yourself the way people deemed fit. It must suck. Uncle who doted on you growing up is the same one that's planning to overthrow you all this time, he thinks. He pulls the oars in when he feels the boat make contact with the sand bed, jolting the two in the wooden structure.

Y/N lurches forward from the sudden movement, hands coming to grip his forearms to brace herself. “Sorry,” she mumbles, straightening up and squaring off her shoulders.

“Are you sure you didn’t come all the way to the docks to not see me, Princess?” He teases.

“You think highly of yourself, Harry,” she laughs, reaching in her linen bag and shifting through it.

“How could I not? Besides look at where you got me,” he gestures to the scenery around them. It was just the two of them on his catamaran by the shore, the sun shining high up in the sky, and a cool breeze makes it way to them making the leaves and branches of the trees dance in its rhythm. Awfully convenient, he wonders as they bask in the solitude of the crashing waves and the screech of birds.

“I got you?” She scoffs, raising her eyebrows. “If I recall correctly, it was you who pulled me into your boat. So, who got who alone?”

A right menace, he shakes his head. “Why are you here then, Y/N?” He hopes it’s to continue where they’d left off that night, his body pressed up unbelievably close to her. He doesn’t miss sparing a glance - when she tucks a stray stand of hair behind her ear, inadvertently moving the fabric of her saree exposing the soft skin of her belly rising and falling as she breathes. Even without all the fanfare around her appearance, she never looked less gorgeous.

She opens her palm, revealing a few brown candies wrapped in thin butter paper. A candy he knew all too well. It was popular in the port town. Sweet tamarind candy. “For these,” she admits. “My family thinks I should not be eating peasant treats. So, whenever I come to town to check on how the people are doing and how the children are responding with the school’s curriculum, I make sure to buy this in bulk from the market and stash it in my room.”

“You do it often?”

“Not as often as I like,” she admits, stuffing them back in her bag.

“Didn’t peg you as a sneak. Why not come to check on the people as the princess?”

“Because people don’t talk to me. They talk to the Princess. The crown. If they know I’m coming, they don’t see me, they see the ostentatious display of wealth and put on the best version of themselves. I want my people to talk to me, unfiltered as possible.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t been caught,” Harry claims. “It’s not the best disguise, Y/N. I can see right through it.”

“That’s because you actually bother to look at me. You’d be surprised how little people actually look into my eyes. People don’t pay attention to people they don't care about, especially ones that are from a lower caste and don’t draw too much attention to themselves. You’d be surprised how many people bumped into me today without so much as an apology.” She laughs, the tinkling sound cutting right through the monotonous sound of waves carding against the shore. “Besides, I’ve got my lady-in-waiting covering for me and my guards are standing outside the door, thinking I’ve taken to the bed,” she shrugs.

“Next time let me know.” The words tumble out of Harry’s mouth before his brain can comprehend. “Can’t have people bumping into you.”

A smile blooms across her face. “I’ll survive. Thanks for the offer though,” she replies, pursing her lips together in an attempt to refrain from telling him how cute he looked.

“You know,” Harry starts, taking one of her hands in both of his. “I was kinda hoping you came here and demand that you continue where we left off,” he confesses, green eyes flicking up at hers to gauge her reaction.

Y/N can’t help but reel at the sensation of his slightly calloused thumb drawing circles on the back of her hand. “What if I did?”

“I think I would like that very much.” Harry gives her a shy smile. “Was kinda beating myself up for not kissing you that night.”

“I didn’t know you liked me. Much less in a sexual manner-”

“I think it’s more than lust, Y/N,” he confesses, bringing her hand up and brushing his lips against her knuckles.

“Did you um- have you… touched yourself more to the thought of me?” She asks him quietly, hoping that he did not bed other women in town after that night.

“What do you think, hmm?” He responds with a smile. He had come on his stomach and hands an embarrassing amount of times replaying that night. It was pathetic how much she had him in a chokehold.

“I would like to kiss you,” she says, scooting forward to slot her knees between his. “Would you like that too?”

He nods, tongue licking his lips in anticipation as his heart kicks up again. The butterflies start flapping about in his tummy as she leans in with puckered lips. He backs up in the very last second when his lips were an inch away from hers, making her headbutt him in the process.

“You want me to beg?” She scoffs.

“Not necessarily but it won’t hurt to throw a please in there,” he mutters against the flamed skin of her cheek as he trails wet kisses up to the corner of her eye.

Her breath washes over him as she sighs, “Fine. Just this once though, don’t get used to it. Kiss me, pl-”

He cuts her off, smearing his lips with hers. Her lips were softer than he could have dreamt. His hands immediately move to cup her cheeks, tilting her head, so their noses weren’t smushed. He holds her delicately, like she was made of the finest crystal. Their eyes flutter close as their body relaxes into each other, lips moving in sync like they were destined to do this. Her palms slowly creep up his chest, resting firmly at the crook of his neck, grinning at the way she pulls a pleasured hum from him. Kissing someone never felt this right to Harry. They do it once, one more time, and another time before their lungs force them apart to pull in air. He leans in to peck her swollen lips again, silently thanking the ocean for bringing him to her.

Harry was right, he doesn’t think he had it in him to stop now that he had a taste. He reaches forward, wrapping a strong arm around the small of her back, while the other cradles her bum, pulling her onto his lap eliciting a quiet gasp from her. Y/N doesn’t waste time connecting their lips again. Only this time, Harry swipes his tongue across her bottom lip - seeking permission. His hands grip her in place at her ribs, resting right below her breasts. She opens up for him willingly and he wiggles his tongue into her mouth, licking hers hesitantly. She moans into his mouth, fingernails pressing crescents on the defined muscles of his back. He grunts out, feeling the heat pool from his chest and making its way south to his throbbing cock. They slot together perfectly, Y/N can’t help but grind down to help relieve the pressure building up in her tummy.

“Do you like it?” He pulls back checking in, talking against her lips as they pant against each other.

“Very much,” she answers, fluttering her eyes open as her forehead rests against his. “Am I satisfactory in this kissing ordeal?”

Harry lets out a boyish laugh, the one that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle and the dimples in his cheek deepen. “You are heavenly, Princess.”

Y/N gives him a satisfactory smile. “You have a scar here,” she notes as her eyes focus on the small cut under his left eyebrow.

“Got it from a fishing hook when I was nine,” he tells her. They’d been on this ship for a month now and Harry was getting restless, so he’d convinced one of the crew men to teach him to throw a line. Instead of waiting for the instructions, he simply grabbed the pole and whipped it around, resulting in a gash and his father incessantly yelling at him for being careless.

Her fingers feather over the mark, ghosting over the skin. Her touch was so gentle that Harry wondered if she was afraid that blood might ooze out if she put any pressure. He goes to tease her but she beats him to it, pressing her lips to the scar. She lingers breathing in his scent - a musky woody one underlying the smell of the salty sea.

Y/N’s gesture makes his breath hitch, a lump forming in his throat. The delicate nature of her action, knocked the wind out from his solar plexus. He didn’t realise he craved tenderness until now, there was no one to kiss his boo boos on the boat. He barely registered the pain back when the fish hook tore through his flesh, instead he was apologising to his father telling him that he’ll be better while pressing a muslin cloth to the wound. No one has been this tender with me. “Y/N,” he breathes out as a single tear rolls from his eye, “Thank you.”

She doesn’t understand why Harry’s crying as he thanks her but she gives him a comforting smile thumbing away the tear as he sniffles. He kisses her again, slipping his tongue into her mouth as they both sigh in satisfaction. That’s how they stay for the next hour, tangled together as desire simmers in their nerve endings. Lips caressing each other, as their tongue prods and rolls around in each other's mouth. Harry’s hands rests on her hips, fingers finding the skin of her stomach rubbing circles into them as Y/N tests Harry by making him moan as she tugs on the curls at the nape of his neck. The catamaran lazily bobs in the water not wanting to disrupt the two, like the ocean understood that they were going to part with each other soon. But the sky had other plans, a distant rumble of thunder jolting them apart, reminding them of reality. Y/N shuffles back to her seat despite his grumbled protests, reaching in her bag to hand him some copper coins, “For your trouble,” she explains.

“You’re paying me for kissing you?” He chuckles.

“No! It’s for rowing me here from the docks.”

“I didn’t do it for the money.”

“I know but I insist,” she states firmly.

He examines the coins in his palm and laughs. “I don’t understand how you haven’t been recognized in the markets. These are the shiniest copper coins I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he comments.

Harry’s right. The Princess had no use for copper coins, she only used gold. The coppers denominated smaller values of money and had no place among royalty. She usually goes out of her way to request some from the mint in the capital, telling her father that she needs them to throw into wells when she makes wishes. Y/N thinks wishes were lame and if her father knew her any better, he’d catch on to the fact that she had been using the coppers to visit the markets. People rarely had brand new coins because it dulled and discoloured from use. No would have so many on them at once.

Their farewell was brief. Harry helps her to the shore, telling her how to sneak back into her castle. She interrupts him when he lets her know that there's a spot - one that’s covered in vines and deceptive to the untrained eye - low in the stone back wall of the butterfly garden of her grounds, telling him that she was the one who designed it to aid in her sneaking out. He pulls her in a long tight hug, breathing in her floral scent as he mumbled goodbyes against the column of her throat he was busy trailing kisses on. It wasn’t lost on Harry that Y/N was trying to sneak some of the candy she’d purchased into his pockets.

“Show this to the soldiers,” she pulls out her golden ring, which bore the sigil of her family. “You won’t need to sneak in. Tell them I sent you and show them the ring, they’ll take you to Karthi.”

He nods, slipping the ring on his pinky, before kissing her with reckless abandon as his hands move down her back, grabbing a fistful of her bum and squeezing it. Y/N laughs, poking his side before getting on her toes again, to plant a kiss on his cheek. He wades into the waves, pushing the boat further out into the open water.

“Be careful, Harry,” she calls out from the shore when he hops on the boat. “You know with the storm and all. Don’t want you getting lost in the middle of the ocean,” she jokes weakly but even from far Harry could tell that her eyes were full of concern.

“Promise,” his voice rings out with sincerity. “Got someone to come home to now, haven’t I, Princess?” He teases one last time, giving her a wave.

#harry syles #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles x y/n #harry styles y/n #harry styles yn #harry styles x you #spy!harry #princess!reader #princess!y/n #fishnets-fingers #COME SAY HI #please leave tags if you reblog #out by the docks

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alovesongforu · 25 days

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Playlist

If you wanna listen to some music while reading this fic, here’s a playlist I’ve made based on the protagonist I created with so much love. Just search for her name on Spotify ;)

Beatrice D’Agostino

1. Who's Afraid of Little Old Me? - Taylor Swift

2. LABOUR - the cacophony - Paris Paloma

3. I Can Do It With a Broken Heart - Taylor Swift

4. BLAME ON THE KIDS - AViVA

5. this is me trying - Taylor Swift

6. Cry Baby - Melanie Martinez

7. Centuries - Fall out Boy

8. Run Boy Run - Woodkid

9. Warriors - Imagine Dragons

10. Legends Never Die - League of Legends

11. Family Line - Conan Gray

12. Matilda - Harry Syles

13. Francis Forever - Mitski

14. Bet on Losing Dogs - Mitski

15. jealousy, jealousy - Olivia Rodrigo

16. Control - Halsey

17. You're on your own, kid - Taylor Swift

18. Ovelha Negra - Rita Lee

19. Nobody's Soldier - Hozier

Before it all starts, I wanna say that I'm sorry for any grammatical mistake I make. English isn't my first language, but I'm hoping that it will get better as I continue writing. Also, in this AU, demigods can use cell phones and don't attract monsters using them. I know there is an explanation for this, but I believe that, nowadays, it is not possible to do anything without a cell phone. Even my school needs them to hand in assignments, that's why I made this change. Thank you so much for choosing to read ‘Disease Bringer - Cursed Village’ and have a good reading time. :)

#percy pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #pjo oc #lee fletcher #will solace #travis stoll #connor stoll #castor and pollux #apollo cabin #apollo #greek mythology

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dontworrysunflower · 3 years

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yes i’m constantly listening to red (taylor’s version) what about it but this is with olivia rodrigo :)

i don’t think any of this makes sense but i liked the idea so you will too

requests are closed

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yourinstagram it’s supposed to be fun

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y/nfan1 happy birthday bitch

y/nfan2 taylor liking…three days before red

y/nfan3 we’re gonna go after harry like we’re gonna do jake right?

↳ yourinstagram please don’t

annetwist ❤️

y/nfan4 not anne…pls this is so messy

harryfan1 following in t swift’s footsteps i see

y/nfan5 21 bestie you can get shitfaced

Liked by annetwist, yourbff and 3,771,594 others

harrystyles Love On Tour. Long Island, NY.

View 20,183 comments

harryfan1 miss you already

harryfan2 your exes are working together how do you feel 🎤

harryfan3 COME TO EUROPE DAMN IT

harryfan4 taylor and y/n talking shit about you 🤭

harryfan5 i swear i love you but i will be streaming all too well

harryfan6 ayo can i get a free butt plug i mean nail polish

Liked by mitchrowland, taylorswift and 6,183,272 others

yourinstagram that’s what happened, you🧣🖤🍂🍄 all too well (taylor’s version) tomorrow @taylorswift <3 can’t believe i get to say that 🥲

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yourinstagram i’ll never shut up about this btw

y/nfan1 WAS THERE AN ACTUAL SCARF

y/nfan2 how are you alive

↳ yourinstagram i’m not

gemmastyles ❤️‍🔥

taylorswift So excited!! 🤍🥲

Liked by yourinstagram, gemmastyles and 8,296,482 others

taylorswift All Too Well (10 Minute Version)(Taylor’s Version) feat. @yourinstagram out now!!

Red (Taylor’s Version) out tomorrow!!

View all 78,386 comments

y/nfan1 now do style together

↳ taylorswift 🤔

y/nfan2 no because this is y/n’s dream

yourinstagram still pinching myself

taylorfan1 did taylor basically confirm a style duet

harryfan1 shit is catchy

taylorfan2 their voices together 🤩

•••

taglist: @samaraaaaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @lover-of-bucky @tom-hollands-wife @acciosiriusblack @aslugforharry @sunkissedchxrry @niallsbaeorwhateva @vodka-is-gay-and-so-am-i @evanjh @alienorknight @spencharry

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

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All Yours - Harry Styles

a/n: idk if you saw those pics of the house that’s supposedly Harry’s, maybe it’s not his but that shower gave me... thoughts 👀 . and these are those thoughts lmao enjoy!!

warning: sexual content

word count: 2.2k

masterlist

Harry has been mad at you all day. Well, not mad in the sense where he hates your guts, that could never happen because the two of you are ridiculously in love, but he thought you let a guy flirt with you earlier in the grocery shop and his dominant, jealous side came out right away.

“I was just answering his question nicely, H,” you sighed when he confronted you in the car on the way home.

“Yeah, nicely let him flirt with you and basically fuck you with his eyes,” he scoffed, still clearly upset by it.

“Harry, I don’t have control over what others think. How am I supposed to change what goes on in his mind?” you asked with a confused chuckle. You could feel the man’s stare, but he didn’t do anything disrespectful, he didn’t touch you or say something inappropriate, just asked you a simple question, you answered and then you parted ways. Easy as it is.

“You could have just not answer him,” he shrugged, but you could tell he knew you would have never done that.

“What happened to treat people with kindness, babe?” you teased him, but he just rolled his eyes mumbling under his breath.

“No kindness when someone is trying to fuck my girlfriend.”

You find it amusing when he turns into some kind of cave man whenever he is jealous. It has a manly charm that just riles you up. Knowing how territorial he is, how he wants everyone to know that you’re his, it’s just doing things to you only Harry can achieve.

Now he is lying in bed, scrolling through his phone and he still seems a little distant following the little jealousy scene from earlier. You’ve tried to lighten him up, but for some reason he is trying to convince him that you really were flirting with that man. So now you are eager to show him that he is the only man in your life and you’re not planning to change that anytime soon.

“Gonna take a shower,” you tell him walking out of your closet in only your silky bathrobe. Harry doesn’t look up, just hums in response. Reaching to your stomach you untie the knot on the robe and let it slide open, revealing your fully naked body, making his eyes finally flicker up. “You are welcome to join,” you tell him with a sly smirk before walking into the bathroom joined to the bedroom you’ve been sharing with him this past year.

You don’t close the door behind you, and just as you take the robe off you hear him shuffling outside, walking into the bathroom just when you step into the giant walk-in shower. Biting into your lip you start the water that rains down on you from the showerheads hanging from the ceiling while Harry is eager to free himself from his sweatpants and shirt.

He kicks his boxers down, his eyes widening slightly as he watches you stand under the water, running your hands through your wet hair, making sure the light coming from the window on the other side gives out the silhouette of your curves perfectly. Dropping your hands you turn to him, tilting your head to the side, enjoying the attention you are getting from your man.

“Are you gonna stay there watching or you plan on getting inside?” you ask teasingly and he doesn’t need more. He joins you under the water in a heartbeat, the droplets running down his firm chest and broad shoulders so perfectly, you already want to lick them off with your hungry mouth. It’s always funny to you how Harry still can think you’d leave him for someone else when the entire male population starts and ends with him for you, there’s just no man that could ever make you feel the things he can, intentionally or not on purpose as well.

You grab the shower gel and squeeze some into the palm of your hand before starting to soap your upper body, eyes never leaving his as his green, greedy eyes burn down on your naked body.

“Would you mind doing my back?” you ask with faked innocence as you turn around and show him your back. He hums in response, reaching around you so his hands meet yours, stealing some of the gel from them before moving them to your back and gently massaging it into your wet skin. His finger start working on your shoulders and neck, rubbing your muscles perfectly as you feel yourself relax under his touch. When you accidentally take a tiny step backwards you can’t help the smirk that tugs on your lips when you feel his already hardening cock poking at your bum.

Harry pushes his chest against your back, his hands moving down to your breasts as he kneads them, making you moan, your head falling back to his shoulder.

“Feels good, baby?” he murmurs pressing his lips to your jawline as you reach back with your hands, lacing your fingers through his wet locks.

“Yes,” you breathe out, pushing your bum against him even more so his cock presses into you, making him groan in pleasure. Turning around in his arms you attack his lips, not able to keep yourself controlled any longer. He kisses you back with just as much passion and vigor, his hands gripping your waist so hard his fingers dig into your flesh. You move your hands down his back, nails scratching his soft skin until you reach his ass, squeezing each cheeks in a hand shamelessly that just makes him moan into your mouth.

“What do you want to do with me, Harry?” you ask him seductively, bringing a hand up to his hair so you can tug on his locks just the way he loves. “I’m all yours. Always have been, always will be.”

“Sit on the bench, baby. I want to taste you,” he groans, kissing you hard one last time before he lets go of you so you can move.

You sit to the marble bench under the window, the water not hitting you any longer and as Harry sinks to his knees in front of you, your legs open up for him out of instinct. Harry’s hands grab onto the insides of your thighs, exposing you to him even more and he stares down at your throbbing core like it’s his favorite meal in the entire world, made just for him by a chef.

Dipping his head down he kisses both your thighs up until his lips brush against your sensitive bud, teasing you a little as he is barely touching you.

“Harry!” you whine, a hand coming into his hair while you try to support you with the other one so you don’t fall back. “I need you!”

“M’right here, baby,” he smirks before he finally places and openmouthed kiss to your clit, swirling his tongue, sucking on your skin relentlessly.

“Oh fuck!” you gasp, your chest heaving from the pleasure that crashes down on you suddenly.

Harry has a magical mouth and you’ve known this since your third date years ago when the two of you were so hungry for each other that you didn’t even make it into your place, he ate you out in the backseat of his car before he fucked you good. Right then and there you knew you found the man you want to spend the rest of your life with.

He is making you see stars as he licks and sucks on your sex, two fingers coming to your hole, teasing you slightly, not thrusting into you just yet.

“Harry! Don’t fucking tease me!” you groan in frustration, desperate to feel more. You can feel his smirk against you before he finally pushes two fingers into you, making you moan his name over and over again.

“I fucking love your pussy, it’s so sweet and warm,” he hums, pumping into you without skipping a beat as he looks up to see the pleasure he is giving you on your face. He is satisfied with the work he is doing, watching you fall apart under his touch, weak for him and only for him.

He edges you until you’re screaming his name, almost reaching your climax but then he pulls back, leaving you feeling empty and unfinished. You don’t have the chance to speak up before he gets up to his feet and orders you around again.

“Get up, I’m gonna fuck you against the wall,” he tells you and your whole body lights on fire. You love it when he bosses you around, when he takes control but not too much. He knows your limits and knows that you fancy him being a little dominant, but he also knows how much you need the freedom of doing whatever you want during sex. You’re not completely submissive and he is not trying to make you either, just accepts your boundaries and play within the rules, making you extremely grateful that he is all about pleasuring you.

You stand up, but your knees weaken for a moment, threatening to collapse, but Harry grabs you just in time, holding you against his firm chest as he kisses your forehead.

“You good, baby?” he asks in a much softer tone.

“Yeah, just… a bit shaken,” you chuckle as you hold onto his shoulders. “I’m fine,” you assure him before pulling down to kiss him, your tongue meeting his in the middle.

He walks you until your back hits the wall and you hiss at the sudden coldness of it, making you arch against him, your breasts pushing against his tattooed chest. His lips never leave yours, he is tugging on your bottom lip, biting and licking into your mouth as his hands find the back of your thighs and he hoists you up until your legs wrap around his waist, holding you without a mishap.

“I’m gonna make you feel good, baby,” he mumbles into the kiss as he reaches down and grabbing the base of his fully erected cock, lining himself up with you, the tip teasing your core already.

“Go deep and hard, want to feel you everywhere,” you breathe out, grabbing a handful of his hair before he pushes into you without warning, filling you up entirely.

You gasp at the sudden feeling and he stops when he is all the way inside you, giving you some time to adjust to him. He kisses your lips, your nose and cheeks before you give his hair another tug, signaling that he can start moving. He picks up a steady pace, moving in and out of you easily since you are dripping wet for him at this point. Curling your arms around his shoulders you pant against the side of his face, kissing his temple, ear and the soft skin below it as he keeps thrusting into you, building your orgasm up once again.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good,” he groans, moving faster as his fingers dig into your thighs locked around his waist.

“Are you close, baby?” you ask out of breath.

“Yeah, I’m close, are you?”

“Yes, want you to cum with me, want to do it together,” you pant as you pull his head back so you can look into his eyes. He just nods and makes his thrusts shorter but harder, pushing you towards the edge.

“I’m gonna cum,” he warns you, his eyes shutting close for a few moments.

“Cum, I’m close too. Cum for me, Harry!” you ask him and he whines at your words.

A few more thrusts later you feel him jerk inside you as he falls out of his rhythm, coming hard inside you as he keeps moaning your name over and over again. When his head falls forward and his teeth dig into your shoulder you burst too, the pleaser washing over you in waves.

“Oh fuck! Harry!” He keeps moving, even when he has already ridden down his high, just to make sure you’re fully satisfied. He pushes into you a few more times before he stops, putting you down gently, making sure your legs don’t collapse under you again. He kisses your face wherever he can until his lips meet yours, dragging this kiss a little longer and softer than the once you shared before.

He pulls you under the water and grabs a washcloth from the side, he wets it and gently cleans you up, peppering featherlike kisses to your skin everywhere he goes.

“I hope the way I just screamed your name proves that you’re the only man I want,” you smile at him sheepishly, running your hands up his chest until they rest at the base of his neck.

“M’sorry for being a pain in the ass, I’m just so fucking in love with you, I selfishly want to be the only man that can have the privilege to feel this way for you.”

“And you are,” you chuckle softly, cupping his face in your hands. “Others might find me hot or have a thing for me, but you are the only one who knows me, who sees me like this… who makes me feel like this. I’m all yours, H.”

Breathing out through his nose he captures your lips in another kiss as he pulls you tight against him.

“I love you, baby.”

“Love you too. Now let’s actually shower,” you chuckle, reaching for your shampoo.

Thank you for reading! Please like/reblog if you enjoyed!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry syles imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles au #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot

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yannii04 · 3 years

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Okay so Harry's first album (HS1) is his introductory into what he's capable of. He's showing people who he is outside of being in a boyband. Fine Line (HS2) is him coming into his own. He's allowing us to see him as Harry and his journey of self discovery through femininity, heartbreak, sex, healing, and finally knowing who you are. Harry's House (HS3) is about Harry finally being home. He's made it, he knows who he is and is unapologetic about it. It could also mean that he's allowing access into his safe space. Someone's home is usually their escape away from the world. And he's granting us access. In this essay I-

#harry syles #harry styles album #fine line #hs1 #hs2 #hs3 #love on tour #harry's house #harry #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #hshq #pleasing

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ihearthes · 3 years

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Title: Leaf People

Author: @ihearthes Pairing: Harry & Gina, parents to Mattea Rating: Pure Fluff Word Count: 2826 Inspired by: Court’s ( @heart-attack-harry ) Autumn Fic Challenge

“Daddy?” Our three-year-old daughter Mattea chirps from the back seat where she’s safely buckled in her car seat.

“Yes, baby girl?” Harry glances at her in the rearview mirror, a curious smile crinkling his eyes. I reach over to rest my hand on his thigh, and his grins widens.

“You sing t’night?”

“Nope. Tour is over, Mattie.”

“Oh. Where we go den?”

It’s my turn to speak up, “We’re going to visit my Great Aunt Camille. Daddy finished his tour in New York so we could easily drive over to see her in Vermont.”

“But why?”

“Why are we going to visit?” Harry asks, and Mattea nods energetically.

A soft smile crosses my lips as tears fill my eyes. The truth is that my great aunt is ill, and this might be the only time we get to visit her. With Harry’s newest movie coming out on Thanksgiving weekend and Christmas back in Holmes Chapel with Anne, Gemma, and our nephews, there aren’t many options for seeing Aunt Cammie during the time she has left on Earth. “Because Aunt Cammie wants to meet you and your brother.”

“That silly, Mama. My brudder still in your tummy. He not part of the fambily.”

Her words cause me to lay a hand on my six-month pregnant belly. A January baby. At least he wasn’t coming in the heat of summer. Or during the middle of a tour. All around, he seems to have good timing so far. Except that Mattie would prefer to stay an only child and not have a “brudder” at all.

“Why is it silly? I talk to him all the time,” Harry chimes in.

“You silly.” Clearly ‘silly’ is her favorite new word that Uncle Jeffrey taught her during tour.

“Yes, I am!” My husband proudly proclaims.

“Ohhhhh! The twees so pwetty!”

She’s nothing if not observant. The autumnal colors in this part of Vermont have recently popped, and I recall the times I spent with my great aunt as a child when I was required to rake leaves -- not ever really enjoying the colors as much as I do now. The reds and yellows and oranges scattered on the road and ground are as stunning as the colors still gracing the trees themselves. Magical.

Although the GPS directs us, I don’t need to see the arrows to know when to turn down the road at the bottom of one hill near a dairy farm. Five more minutes, and we would hit town. But no one would ever suspect the small town is so close to these fields with their picket fences, cows grazing on the remaining grass untouched yet by winter snow.

“What dat?” Mattie asks, her tiny fat finger pointing out of the window.

“Oh! Those are the Leaf People,” I tell her. “You’ll have to ask Aunt Cammie about them.”

“Leaf People?” Harry wonders. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“Then you’ll both have to ask Aunt Cammie when we get there.” Which isn’t long as the GPS directs Harry to turn at the next driveway between two dairy farms. As he parks, I realize how stiff my legs have become on the drive. And how badly I have to pee.

When we pull into the driveway, I smile at the beauty of the old farmhouse that is no longer connected to much of a farm. Aunt Cammie had sold the surrounding land to her neighbors as she aged and could no longer raise her goats. It has been through sheer stubbornness that Cammie keeps two goats for their milk, and my stomach grumbles at the thought that I won’t get to enjoy any fresh goat cheese until after our son is born. Sadly.

As Harry pops the car into park and turns off the engine with a single button push, Mattie’s feet start bouncing and kicking at my seat. My husband’s throaty laugh accompanies his exit from the vehicle as he steps around to release our daughter from her car seat prison.

She jumps down from her seat, grasping her stuffed puppy tightly in one hand. Betraying her nerves, her other thumb tucks itself into her mouth. Harry and I exchange a glance. She’d been doing that more lately as my tummy had grown with the weight of her brother. We discussed it often, and had finally settled on the hope that her self-soothing is temporary. But she’s not been quiet about not needing anyone else in the family. At least anyone else who isn’t a dog -- which she desperately wants.

“As I live and breathe, is that my sweet Georgina?” Aunt Cammie’s voice echoes from the wraparound porch on her farmhouse, and I feel like my knees aren’t going to hold me up. Defying their weakness, I fly to the stairs and race up to wrap this deceptively robust woman in my arms. Squeezing her tightly, I ignore the tears that have sprung to the corners of my eyes. After my parents passed when I was twelve, Aunt Cammie raised me, and I feel like I’m at home whenever I’m around her. It’s a true sin that we’ve not been to visit since Mattie was a baby. I could easily blame Harry’s work, but that wouldn’t be fair. My work has been just as demanding of my time, and the truth is that I hadn’t made Vermont a priority since the wedding. There was always so much hustle and bustle in a celebrity wife’s life.

We always think we have forever with the people we love.

Until we don’t.

Shaking off the maudlin feelings, I step back to feel Harry’s arm wrap around my back. The comfort of it gives me the strength to blink my tears away as I gesture to Mattie to join us. Cautiously, my daughter steps towards the older woman.

“You’ve grown so much!” Aunt Cammie remarks. “Just tall enough, I think, to help me milk Cinnamon.”

Popping her thumb out of her mouth, Mattie inquires, “What a cim-a-non?”

“She’s my goat. Would you like to meet her?”

Normally exuberant, an unusually-silent Mattie’s head bobs up and down, and soon she’s following Aunt Cammie through the house to the back after shoving the stuffed dog at me to hold.

“I’ve gotta pee,” I whisper. “Take some pics of them, please?”

With a soft kiss on my cheek, Harry nods. “Of course, my love. We’ll be waiting.”

After washing my hands, I wander outside to the sounds of pure joy bursting from our daughter. She shrieks as the brown goat Cinnamon nibbles from her hand while the pure white Snowflake is calmly being milked, my great aunt sitting low on a milking stool.

“Aunt Cammie!” I rush over. “I can do that for you. Harry, why aren’t you helping?”

“Nonsense, Gina.” Harry retorts. “Your aunt has everything in hand.” As I glance at him in shock, a message silently passes between us, and I understand that he’d offered but my obstinate aunt must have insisted. She’d always been one to work through any pain, and I could see that she wasn’t going to change despite what the doctors said. Or anything I might say.

“Mama, look!” Mattie is hugging the goat, and my husband smartly focuses his camera on the animal and our child. I hear the shutter snap photo after photo, and I know I’m going to cherish these pictures for years to come. I'll probably show them to every guy Mattie ever dates. Poor kid.

“I see,” is my comment combined with a grin. “Did you ask Aunt Cammie about the Leaf People?”

“Ooooohhhhh! Aunt Cannie -- what da Leaf Peepa?”

Slowly and cautiously, my aunt stands, her hand on her back for support. Swooping in, I remove the bucket of milk from underneath Snowflake. No need for the elderly woman to carry the milk.

“You know she does this on her own without us?” Harry whispers in my ear, and I shudder. Perhaps I should move in? Stay with her? But even as the thought crosses my mind, I know it’s not possible. We have obligations. Commitments to others. But oh how I want to move in and take care of this woman who raised me! Even in the harsh winter of Vermont. I shiver from my memories and tighten my mohair sweater around me.

“Ah, the Leaf People! They only come out in the autumn, you see.” My aunt begins the story. “And then on Halloween, they all disappear.”

“Disappear?” My wondrous, open-eyed child questions. “Where they go?”

“No one knows,” my aunt reveals, “But if you want -- we can dress some of them up while you’re here.”

“Oh yay!” Clapping her hands together, Mattie jumps up and down. “I wanna! Daddy, you wanna too?”

“Of course,” Harry murmurs, and I know he would do whatever it takes to make his daughter happy.

“Let get clothes!” Mattie races back into the house and out the front door, leaving it wide open as we smile behind her.

“You better grab her, H, or she’s going to have a field day with your Gucci.”

“Shit,” he curses, racing after his daughter.

“It’s good to see you, Georgina,” my aunt comments as she climbs the steps. I follow behind, hauling the milk into the kitchen.

“I’m sorry it’s been so long --” I begin, but she shuts me down with a look. Sort of like the night I came home after a night of cowtipping with the boys from the farm down the road.

“You’re here now, and I’m glad to see you. We’ll have none of those excuses and apologies, Miss Thing. I’m just thrilled to have you under my roof again with that handsome husband and baby girl of yours. Oh -- and this one too.” Leaning over to my belly, she glances at me. “May I?”

“Knock yourself out,” I tell her. Aunt Cammie never gave birth, so she has always been fascinated by the pregnancies of others.

“Hello, little one,” she whispers, and tears spring to my eyes. “Your mama and daddy love you very much. And when you grow up, they’re going to be able to bring you here whenever you want. After all, what better baby gift could I give than a lifetime of memories on the farm?”

“What are you saying?” I force the words out of my mouth, although my tongue feels like lead.

“I’m leaving you the farmhouse, of course. In your name only, though. I expect you and the kids to come here at least once a year.”

“That’s a most generous gift,” I stutter, blinking away my tears again. No point arguing with her as she’s clearly made up her mind well before we arrived. “Why in my name only?” I ask as we walk to the front door to follow Mattie and Harry, my daughter’s stuffed dog swinging by its paw.

“Georgina -- your husband has all the money anyone could want, and I know he does well by you. You could buy anything the world has to offer.” She pauses, swallowing, “But no one can buy memories.”

The tears freely make their pathway down my face. I frantically wipe them from my eyes as we exit onto the front porch to find Mattie has opened my suitcase on the driveway and is removing item after item of clothing.

“Mattie! What are you doing?”

“Gettin’ clothes for the Leaf Peepa!”

“Harry!” I yell, although I’m not as angry as I thought I would be while I watch my daughter ransacking my clothing.

“I didn’t know she was going to dig into your bag,” He hollered back. “I just set it down while I moved it to get mine.”

Planting my face in my palm, I decide to join them on the driveway -- if only so I can rescue some of my clothes from the dust of the gravel. Aunt Cammie joins us and heads for the garage. “Harry, can you help me in here for a minute?”

The two disappear, and I pick up my discarded clothing from around my suitcase. “Did you choose something, love?” I ask my daughter.

“Not yet,” she bubbles. “I want it to be like you.” Finally, she yanks out a folded pair of baggy blue jeans and a denim top. “Dis!” She declares the words at the top of her lungs, and I shrug. It’s an outfit I like wearing when we’re not going out anywhere. Reminds me of home. Vermont. Something I might have worn years ago when I was taking care of the goats before school. Prior to my successful career as a feature writer for The New Yorker, Esquire, and occasionally Vogue.

As I finish picking up my strewn clothing, our daughter makes her way to her daddy’s suitcase, unzipping the Gucci bag and rummaging through the clothes there.

“Here we go,” Harry announces as he arrives back by our sides. He’s holding the frames for three Leaf People. “One for each of us. We’ll put them out front with Aunt Cammie’s.”

“Ooohhhh! Dat one me?” Mattie grins, pointing to the child-sized frame.

“Yep,” Harry agrees, watching as his little girl returns to sorting through his wardrobe. “You picked something out for Mama?”

“Uh huh. Now you, Daddy.” Finally, she raises a flowy and flowery pink shirt over her head with a pair of navy trousers. “Dis one!” Shaking his head, Harry laughs. “Your Uncle Sue will not be happy.” His calm demeanor at her choice of a pair of fitted Gucci trousers and a silk one-of-a-kind Harris Reed creation is one of the reasons I love this man. Doesn’t even bat an eye at his daughter using the expensive clothes to decorate a wooden frame to hang in the front yard.

“Now Mama and I get to choose for you!” He teases, reaching for Mattie’s smaller luggage.

“Nuh uh, Daddy! I get pick!” She rushes to her suitcase, opening it haphazardly and tossing clothes around. “I know just what I want!” Raising her hand over her head, she holds a stunning dress that had been made specifically for her birthday last month. “See Daddy? She’ll be the prettiest princess in all the land!”

Smiling at our daughter’s desire to make even a wooden frame look beautiful, I simply nod as I pick up the scattered clothing.

Harry laughs, picking up our girl and twirling her around while the true princess giggles excitedly. “Wait, Daddy!” she screeches. “Put me down!”

Horrified, Harry stops spinning immediately, setting her on the ground. Mattie races to her suitcase, rearranging everything I had just reorganized. Not finding what she wants, she tears through Harry’s clothes again before heading for mine.

“Mattie!” I stop her tiny hands before they reach my remaining clothes. “What are you looking for? You found clothes for everyone already.”

“No, Mama. Didn’t.” Her head swivels on her neck in a frantic motion.

Harry kneels before her, taking her hands in his and making eye contact. “What’s going on, Mattie? We got clothes for you and me and Mama. And Aunt Cammie already has hers ready. What else do we need?”

Our precious daughter’s eyes have filled with tears as she looks around at the open suitcases. “Need clothes for baby brudder.”

Holy shit. Harry’s stricken gaze meets mine, and we’re both about to lose our collective composure. Mattie wanted to represent our unborn child? Astonishing.

“Mattie,” Harry asks, twisting to her. “Since he’s not here yet, do you want to stuff the tummy of the Mama’s Leaf Person?”

“NO!” She is adamant, and stomps her foot to emphasize her point.

“What about a blanket?” Aunt Cammie offers. “We can wrap it up like a baby and put it in the arms of the mama.”

Tilting her head for a moment, Mattie considers the offer. Sighing, she looks among the adults around her. “Can my Leaf Peepa hold the baby?” she asks quietly.

I swear, if my son has even half the ability to break my heart as our daughter, I will never survive until they are adults. We all agree that the little girl leaf person can hold the leaf baby, and we spend the rest of the afternoon dressing them up and adding some accessories from the local thrift store to finish. When we prop the fully designed Leaf People in the front yard as the sun begins to set, Mattie stands between Harry and me and grasps a hand from each of us.

“Let’s go make some goat cheese!” Harry prompts, and Mattie giggles.

“Daddy, you can’t make cheese out of a goat!”

She holds our hands as we make our way to the front porch where Aunt Cammie waits for us. Every few steps, we lift her up so she can swing her feet. It causes more giggles. Aunt Cammie smiles as she opens the screen door and welcomes us into the farmhouse as the sun sets on another crisp Autumn day in Vermont.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #my writing #CAFC #harry syles fluff #harry styles imagine #dad!harry #there might be other vignettes about this family #so if you liked them #please let me know

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anythingandeverything1d · 3 years

Text

The Tape (Conclusion)

Life with Harry seemed to settle down. You focused on recovery, he focused on work. You both spent the evenings cuddled up in bed watching episodes of the Bachelor and you fell asleep to the pounding of his heart beat every night. Life with Harry was exactly the way it had been before the tape leaked. You laughed as he danced around the kitchen in the evenings while making dinner and swooned in the taste of his lips as he pushed your back into the counter waiting for the ding on the oven timer. You were happy, he was happy, but there was still something missing... something just didn't seem right. Harry was still slightly distant about parts of his day, where he was going, what he was doing, why he would leave the room for phone calls. You had originally talked it up as stress with tour planning, but it wasn't that. He was keeping secrets...and you didn't like that.

You were lounging on the couch in one of Harry's shirts, scrolling through Netflix and hoping to find something that captured your attention. "Hey love, I'm heading to the studio for a bit." Harry walked in, phone to his ear and eyebrows furrowed together.

"I thought you were done recording?" you questioned, sitting up to meet his eyes.

His gaze dropped to the floor before he turned towards the kitchen. "Yeah...I uh.. I have some final cuts to run through."

You jumped up to follow him, "I thought we were going to spend the day together? You know since you have been working so much lately?"

"Ahh, well yes we will but once I'm done with this one thing."

"Harry." You crossed your arms and stared into the green eyes you loved so much.

"I'm sorry babe. We will spend the rest of the day together when I get home and I have a surprise planned too." He winked before pulling the door to the garage open.

"What kind of surprise?" You questioned, following him out of the house.

"If I told you it wouldn't be a surprise now would it?"

"Harry..." you whined, stomping your foot as if you were a toddler pouting about not getting a cookie before dinner.

Harry smiled, walked over and placed a warm kiss on your forehead, forcing you to meet his gaze with a gentle lift of the chin. "Now now love, don't be dramatic. You're going to love it. I think. I hope." He kissed your lips softly and smiled. "Now I'd love to stay and kiss you some more....but the later I leave, the later I return."

You kissed him and pulled him into a hug with a sigh. "Fine."

Harry chuckled and kissed you once more before climbing in the car. "I love you."

"I love you too." You watched as he pulled out of the driveway before sprinting back inside to where Harry kept his laptop. Something was going on and you wanted in on the action. Harry's laptop sprung to life as you anxiously tapped the space bar 100 times. You typed his password and clicked enter only to get the incorrect notification. You sighed. Why had he changed the password. You pulled out the desk drawers and sighed, there was nothing even remotely interesting in them. You looked through his planner and calendar and still nothing. You were out of luck. You leaned back in his office chair and spun around, chewing the bottom of your lip. There has to be something... You grabbed your phone and called the first person who came to mind. "Louis."

"Goodness love, what do you need now." Louis' voice called from the other end.

"What's Harry's laptop password?"

"Why do you need that?" Louis chuckled more interested in the conversation now.

"I uh...I need to do some work."

"What's wrong with yours?" Louis teased.

"Its broken." you lied.

"Sure it is." Louis laughed again and you knew he was rolling his eyes.

"Please Lou, what's the password?"

"Why do you think I know?"

"Because you know Harry. You know what hes doing and what he thinks about."

"Sorry girlie, but I dont have anything for ya."

"Ugh Louis...."

"What are you really trying to figure out?"

"Nothing...." you lied.

"Okay then I've got to go-"

"No wait. Fine." You sighed and leaned your head back. "I want to know what hes planning. Wheres hes at right now."

"You dont trust him?" Louis teased again.

"He's hiding something Louis. I know he is."

"Maybe. But still, that's not the way to find out."

"You know. You know what hes been up to."

"Now now love, no I don't."

"Louis."

"Ive got to go love, just be patient."

"Patient? What does that mean? Louis what-" The phone went dead and you groaned in frustration. Something was for sure going on. You contemplated your options. You could follow Harry. You could go confront Louis. You could try a couple more passwords before locking Harry out of his computer. None really pleased you though. Instead you called another lifeline.

The phone rang, and rang, and rang before the voice finally breathed a hello on the other end. "Liam!"

"(y/n)... what uh what can I do for you?"

"You mean I can't just call my friend?"

"No..well yeah, of course you can. But you normally don't so what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I need your help."

"Is something wrong?"

"Kind of...."

"I'll be there in 5." You smiled and jumped up from the chair.

"I love you Liam."

"Yeah, yeah. See you soon."

You ran downstairs and waited anxiously by the door until Liams car pulled in the driveway. You met him at the door with a smile and a big hug. "Thank you for coming!"

"So what's the problem? Are you okay? Is Harry okay?" Liam looked anxiously around.

"Yeah we are both okay."

Liam breathed a sigh of relief before turning his attention back to you. "Then what's the problem?"

"Well....." you dove into the story of Harry's behavior and the surprise, the change in his computer password, and your uncertain feeling about him hiding something.

"(y/n)...You know Harry loves you-"

"I know but with everything that happened I just feel like something is off." Liam bit his lip and looked away. "You know." you poked him in the chest. "you know what he's hiding."

"What? No I-"

"Liam Payne. Tell me now."

Liam sighed, running his hand through his hair. "I can't."

"Why not?"

"Just trust me okay? Hes not hiding anything, I mean he is but its nothing bad." Liam turned back towards the car. "I have to go."

"LIAM!" you screamed. "What do you think youre doing?"

"Leaving."

"Seriously?"

"Trust him."

"I do trust him but-"

"No buts. Trust him and let it all play out. I can't be involved in this."

"That's what Louis told me." You crossed your arms and glared. "Youre supposed to be the good one."

Liam laughed and waved before climbing in the car. "Love you."

"Yeah yeah, love you too." You turned back to the house as he pulled away. Left with your endless thoughts and questions about everything.

You were sprawled out on the couch lost in thought when the door opened. "Hello?"

You sat up confused until Niall walked into view. "Niall?"

Niall smiled and ran to you for a hug, tackling you back to the couch. "Ive missed you." His arms closed around you and breathed in the cologne he always wore.

"What are you doing here?" You asked slightly confused.

"Well I just wanted to come and check in. We haven't really talked much lately. How are things with Harry?"

You dove into your explanation and watched Niall take it all in. He didn't seem to have as much info as the other boys. When you had finished explaining your feelings and concerns he smiled and shook his head with a small chuckle escaping his lips. "What?" you asked smiling and pushing his shoulder back. "Why are you laughing?"

"(y/n) Harry loves you more than anything else in this world. You shouldn't be worried."

"I'm not worried....I just feel like hes keeping something from me."

"He is."

"What?"

"Harry is keeping something from you." Niall repeated again, scrolling through the channels looking for golf.

"And you know that because?"

"I talk to him pretty frequently."

"So then what is it?"

"Oh I can't tell you."

Anger flared and you took the remote out of his hands. "Why not?"

"Because its not my thing to share. It's Harry's."

"Okay but-"

"Trust him."

"But-"

"(y/n) seriously its a good thing."

"Niall."

"(y/n)."

"Pleaseeeeeeeee" you grabbed his hands and gave your best sad face.

Niall smiled and tapped his finger to your nose. "I can't tell you. Harry would kill me." Niall stood up and laughed, and you would be really upset if I ruined the surprise.

"I would not."

"Yes you would." Niall grabbed his jacket.

"Where are you going?" you whined.

"I'm going home to watch golf and work on the new album. You have a date to get ready for anyways." You looked at the time on the tv. Niall was right, Harry would be home in an hour and you were still in the pjs you had worn the night before. "Let me know how it goes." Niall wrapped you in a hug and smiled softly, lost in another thought.

Once Niall had left you ran upstairs, jumping in a hot shower and pulling out outfits. You landed on a cute sundress, sandals, and left your hair down with gentle curls. You fixed your make up and smiled at the appearance in the mirror. You heard the door downstairs open and headed towards the stairs. "Harry?"

"Hey love." His deep voice called up. "Ready to go?" You met him in the kitchen, a gasp escaping your lips. Harry was in a suit, his hair slicked back, and a bouquet of roses in his hands. His shirt was unbuttoned, leaving the slightest view of the tattoos on his chest. Harry was biting his lip, looking you up and down with a smile. The blush in your cheeks got darker as he approached and placed a kiss on your nose. "You look stunning."

"Uh... you... thanks...I mean so do you." Sometimes you forgot the effects the boy had on you.

Harry laughed and tilted your chin up, his lips meeting yours. "Thank you my love."

Harry handed you the flowers and took your other hand pulling you towards the garage. "Where are we going?"

"Its a surprise."

"Really?"

"Really. Now come on." He opened the door for you and you climbed in, nervously twirling a piece of hair.

Harry smiled and leaned in for a kiss and you met his with a soft sigh. "Ready to tell me?" He just laughed and started driving.

After a decent drive, you arrived at a small park. It looked oddly familiar, but yet something was still a little different. Harry grinned, knowing you still weren't sure what was happening. He jumped out, opened the door, helped you out and smiled. "Know where we are?"

You looked around, a small pond down the trail catching your eyes. You nodded and grinned. "This is the park we went to that night. The night that you first told me you loved me." Harry nodded, pulling your hand and leading you down the path, away from the public and somewhere that seemed more remote. You laughed, thinking of the night. "I thought you were going to kill me that night."

"Kill you?" Harry scoffed, a laugh forming in his smile.

"It's not everyday a guy takes you into the woods, away from people, and out of reach of like anything."

"I like remote places. Theres only one thing to focus on when im there. You." He tapped your nose and you smiled. Harry placed his hands around your eyes and you grinned at the anticipation.

"I can't see."

"That's the point. Cant ruin the surprise quite yet." You walked a little farther and Harry stopped. "Okay love close your eyes."

"But I already can't see."

"Just do it." You closed your eyes and Harry removed his hands, stepping away. "Open them."

Your eyes fluttered open and your mouth dropped. Lights were strung throughout the trees leading to the creek. Harry was leaning nervously against the tree, the one where everything had began. The one that had a carved out heart with your initials. The one where he had pushed you back into and kissed you, telling you that you were his one and only love. You walked forward in awe, and Harry reached for your hand. You grabbed it and opened your mouth, "Haz..."

"(Y/n), you were my first real love, the person I wanted to spend forever with. You stood by me at my worst. You made me better. I know the past has been rocky, and I know theres a lot that we are still figuring out, but theres one thing that I know for sure will never change. You. You are the sunshine on a dark day. You are the best thing to ever happen to me. My rock, my cuddle bug, my best friend." Harry took a step back and nervously dropped to one knee, pulling out a box.

"What-"

"(Y/N) I want to marry you. Will you please be in my life forever and make me the happiest man? Please marry me love."

You nodded and Harry smiled but kept going. "I'm going to need an actual answer dear. (Y/n) be my forever. Will you please marry me?"

"Yes" you nodded through the tears. Harry smiled, slipped the ring on your finger and tackled you in the biggest bear hug. He spun you around, your back hitting the tree and his lips landing on yours. Your fingers tangled in the curls and his teeth lightly tugged on your lip.

"I want you." Harry growled, his fingers slipping into the shirt you were wearing.

"You already have me." You giggled.

"That's not what I meant." You could feel him growing in his pants.

"Take me." You whispered in his ear.

"Oh I will, Mrs. Styles." Harry tugged the shirt off and you laughed pushing him lightly away for a minute.

"Sure you dont want to record this as a sex tape?" You teased.

Harry rolled his eyes and tugged his clothes off. "Good one." He snorted pulling your body back to his. "I dont need a tape." He kissed you softly. "Im never going to lose this, forget this, or need anything else. The other guys would kill me anyways."

"Were they all in on this?"

"Oh yes. They are in the parking lot waiting with champagne."

"Harry!"

"Shhh....They can wait, I need you now."

----

Finally Done! What did you think?

#harry syles imagine #harry styles fanfction #harry styles fanfic #harry styes smut #harry styles #one direction imagines #one direction fanfiction #one direction #the tape

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starsstruck · 4 years

Text

cloudbusting; part five.

a classic coffee shop story. harry is a painter that quickly becomes a regular at his neighbourhood cafe, and it just might have something to do with a certain barista. cloudy mornings, gallery openings, and rooms full of paintings.

pairing: harry x reader warnings: language, mentions of anxiety words: 8.9k

series masterlist

art by holly warburton. (i have no vision for the mc of the fic, people in the images of paintings i use are purely because this is how i envision harry’s art to be)

a/n: i am so excited (and nervous) to share this chapter but she is here ! amazingly big thank you to tina @sunflowers-styles for beta-ing, you are the best ily💕 ! as always please share if you can, and let me know your thoughts, i love to here everything you have to say !!🍊💕 happy reading xoxo

The clouds that came in seemed to have doubled, growing bigger and darker as a cool wind came with them.

The change in weather was quick, summer seeming to slip right out from under you as fall settled into the air. Although, the change was welcomed. There was always something about the sun glowing in the sky while the air was cool. But this was not one of those fall days, no today was damp and misty and not at all pleasant.

That Saturday morning, there was a light rain when you woke up for the mid-shift that you had to cover since apparently your coworkers didn’t know how to give notice before deciding they couldn’t work.

“What time are you off?” Your brother asked, as you were taking a bite out of the jam covered toast you had made yourself before needing to run off to work.

“Three,” you called between bites.

“I can come meet you when you're off if you’d like,” he said, joining you in your kitchen. “Might bring in my laptop, get some work done.”

You nodded. “That sounds good,” taking a quick glance out the window, you faced him once more. “Hopefully it’ll be slow today considering the weather.”

“Fuck,” you muttered quickly, half a slice of toast in your hand as you caught a glance of the time from the clock on the oven. “I gotta go. I left you the key on the table if you want to head out and I’ll see you this afternoon!”

You called to your sibling who was behind you as you grabbed your jacket and bag from where you had left them on the couch. “Sorry again about this.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he replied, looking through your recently filled fridge. “I have some things to get done so it works out well.”

With a hurried goodbye, you were out the door and rushing down the street. You always left maybe a minute too late and ended up having to power-walk to work. The morning air was chilly and just wet, overall unpleasant and not doing much to up your mood.

You hadn’t slept well at all the night before.

You were unable to sleep after the hole you had dug for yourself from your Instagram deep dive, your mind not shutting up about everything that happened within the past two months – the past two months with Harry.

You were feeling this small twinge from the back of your mind, something that was getting louder and louder in your head. A small hint of a voice that you knew was your own, that was telling you that you should be afraid.

And after all the emotional exhaust from the previous day, you had to go make small talk with person after person which was something you just really weren’t looking forward to.

“What are you doing here?” Saya asked when she saw you turn in past the counter and into the back room to hang your coat and bag. You were happy to see that there weren’t a lot of patrons, and that Saya seemed relaxed with the morning so far.

“I’m covering for Noah,” you told her as you clocked in, not even aware of the way your eyes scanned over the work space to look for anything that needed to be done.

“Of course he’s off,” she muttered under her breath, herself having her own issues with being unable to say no when people asked her to cover for them. “Weren’t you supposed to have the week off?”

You nodded. “The whole week, yeah. Grace is going to cover one of my shifts so I’ll have an extra day off, which is nice. But my brother is visiting and I just –” you sighed, “don’t feel like being here.”

“I get that,” Saya shot you a smile as you made yourself a big hot latte. “It’ll be okay, I don’t think today will be that busy.”

And boy was she wrong.

Seemingly minutes after your conversation, a steady flow of clients came in. The steady flow turned into a rush, which again never seemed to end. You didn’t know why everyone was out and about, wanting coffee on this cloudy September morning, and why they couldn’t just be at home.

Saya, the angel she was, took the orders while you rushed through making drinks. It was arguably more stressful to be the one making drinks, but it also meant you didn’t have to talk to people as much. At ten-thirty, Aleena came in as well, and joined your side in making drinks so it became a bit more bearable.

Your brother had come in at the height of the rush, lucky to find a spot in the back to sit at and do whatever work he needed, as he drank the americano you’d made for him.

Luckily the noon lull came, as it often did, and you had a small moment to catch your breath and do some tidying up before it inevitably got busy again.

You walked around with the dish bin against your hip, and it quickly got heavier as you filled it with utensils people had neglected to bring back. A man then very rudely grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks to ask you where the washroom was and you were muttering under your breath in annoyance as you balanced the bin to pick up a stack of plates.

“Hey,” a voice that you hadn’t expected to hear, and one that you were trying to keep out of your head, was suddenly sounding next to you.

Head whipping up to where it came from, you pushed some of your hair out of the way after placing the plates along with the other dishes in the bin.

“Oh, um –” you said, a bit dumbly. “Hey.”

“Surprised to see you here again – I remember how you said you had a week off.” Harry said, standing tall and beautiful and everything you didn’t need to be reminded of right now.

“Covering again,” was all you said, avoiding his gaze. The dish bin in your hands felt like it was growing heavier and heavier, and provided you the perfect excuse to step away from the conversation.

“I got to um,” you lifted the bin in your hands, wordlessly telling him you needed to empty out the bin.

“Oh, of course,” he nodded with a tiny furrow in his brow that you didn’t have time to analyse as you kept your eyes on the small line up that had re-formed in front of the till.

You stepped past him, quickly disappearing behind the door of the back room, where the dishwasher sat ready to be loaded.

Just as you were stepping out after rinsing the dishes and loading the washer, you were heading out from the back room when someone stopped you again.

A call of your name made you jump slightly, a small ‘jesus’ leaving your mouth before you turned to see Harry slightly invading the employee space of the café as he tried to reach out to you.

“Sorry,” he spoke, after seeing your small bit of shock. “I wanted – are you alright?”

You hated yourself for the passive answer. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Oh I just,” he paused, a slight furrow between his brow. “You seemed stressed yesterday…”

You shook your head, teeth pinching the corner of your bottom lip. “I’m fine.”

Seeing his mouth part open to speak once more, you were quick to cut him off with a motion towards the register. “I should get back – busy day.”

And then you were off without sparing him a second glance. Your heart rose to a lump in your throat, a nauseated feeling taking over your stomach that you didn’t think was due to the coffee intake.

You rejoined Aleena by the espresso machine, and saw that she in fact was not busy and was just wiping off sparse grounds from the counter top, and cleaning out milk pots.

You helped her, cleaning out the already clean baskets again to occupy yourself as you knew from the corner of your eye that Harry had walked to the till to order something and that would mean his next stop would be counter by the espresso machine to pick up his drink.

Letting Aleena make the drinks, you bent down to rearrange the mugs that sat under the counter to occupy yourself. When you stood back up to your feet after completing the menial task, you stumbled back away from the counter lightly due to the small head rush, and to the fact that Harry was leaning forward across the counter, forearms lightly resting against it.

“Doesn’t look too busy.” Although his words seemed to have a small bite to them, his tone was light and maybe the punch wasn’t intentional.

“It was…” you stated weakly, eyes briefly flitting over his before looking back down again.

There was a small pause, one far too uncomfortable for you to deal with, especially with Aleena right next to you and other customers on the other side of the counter.

“Are you upset with me? He asked you directly, his words causing you to glance back up at him.

“No, I –” you paused, unsure of what to say and not wanting to say it here. Waving your hand in a motion for him to follow, you turned on your feet and headed to the space before the back room, where the floor of the café met the floor from behind the counter.

Harry followed you from the other side, meeting you where he had stopped you a mere couple minutes ago to talk – something that seemed like you couldn’t avoid at the moment.

“Are you okay?” He repeated the question from before, as you leaned your side against the wall, arms crossed over your chest.

“Yeah, I’m just a bit stressed I guess,” you said lamely, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your sleeves. “A lot going on.”

He slowly nodded, as if not convinced by your words. “Did you want to do something after your shift, blow off some steam and relax?”

Shaking your head no, eyes dropping away from his as you couldn’t bear to look at him in the eye anymore. “I can’t, my brother is with me for the weekend.”

You darted your eyes over to where your brother actually sat not far off, oblivious to the interaction unfolding near him with his eyes glued to his laptop.

“Right, sorry I forgot.” His voice was quiet, words being followed with another moment of silence that you wished to skip through, the only noise coming from other voices in the cafe and Comment te dire Adieu playing a bit too loudly.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” He probed for the third time, the frustration in his tone starting to seep through.

“I am,” you didn’t know if he caught the slight shake in your tone, the slight shake that completely contradicted the words to leave your mouth.

“It’s just,” you paused again, all words seeming to fall out of your head as you were unable to form a sentence. Either that, or you were holding back what was about to blurt from your mouth. “I think that –

He sighed your name. “You think what? Did you want me to leave, or something?”

“I – what do you mean?”

“I don’t know, you…” he ran his free hand over his forehead, pushing some hair out the way. With a little sigh, he glanced at you again. “You’re acting like you want nothing to do with me.”

The nausea was rising from your stomach to your throat.

“I think that um, maybe you should go.”

He didn’t move. “Where is this coming from?” There was a small crack in his tone, one that made your eyes shut for a moment too long as you willed yourself not to get visibly upset.

“I’m tired… I’m tired of being someone that people just pass through.”

You dared to cast a glance at his expression, seeing a deep pull in his brows and a frown on his lips. It hurt you more than you’d like to admit.

You liked him – probably more than you’d had liked anyone, but that was something that you couldn’t think too much about. You liked him a lot and you were so afraid that your first instinct was to run and hide. You knew very well that you were succumbing to your own insecurities, that you were picking and pulling at any loose thread that could be used as a valid reason for your fears.

“What are you saying?” He asked, frustration growing in his voice as he silently begged you to look up at him. “I don’t – I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

“I just – I’m tired Harry.” You sighed, worrying the inside of your mouth. “I’m tired of being hurt…”

Voice not sounding like your own, you spoke words that were about to bring tears to your eyes. “I think you should go.”

You saw his expression twist in every which way, but he only shot you a curt nod before turning on his feet and walking away from you just as you’d suggested. It was the last thing you had wanted to see, but at the moment, at work, you couldn’t deal with anything more than that.

Taking a brief moment, you begged yourself not to start crying for the thousandth time. You made sure not to watch him leave, knowing that it would only hurt you more. Instead you watched his figure walk through the door from the corner of your eye, seeing him turn a quick corner and disappearing you’re your sight. You had no idea when you would see him again.

Wordlessly joining Aleena, you picked up one of the order slips and read over the list of three personalized drinks. Hands moving on muscle memory alone, you cleaned out espresso filled baskets and pulled two shots to start preparing the drinks.

You let your mind wander just the slightest as you steamed milk, thinking about the way you had just completely sabotaged yourself. You knew you had your own reasons for it, as crazy as they may seem.

The slight screeching sound of the milk growing too hot brought your attention back to your task. You watched as the milk was just about to bubble out of the jug, quickly twisting the dial on the steam wand to turn it off. You poured the milk as you always did into the to-go cup, with a nice little rosetta for the customer with the medium latte, before you repeated the same action over and over, making drink after drink.

You also knew that any fear you had over Harry’s ex was probably overly thought of, something that you shouldn’t be thinking about, but you just couldn’t help it. The self-deprecating part of you just didn’t see Harry wanting you to be that person to him, as much as you maybe wanted to.

So you continued to steam milk, working in perfect unison with Aleena as the workflow picked up again

Your shift continued as it always did, with nothing out of the ordinary, and soon three o’clock was rolling in and you were free to leave and do all the wallowing you could ever want to do from the peace and calm of your own room. You left along with your brother, who said he had gotten all the work that needed to be accomplished just in time.

You walked in silence side-by-side down the street, with a tea in hand from work to warm you up and your brother with another coffee. The sky was swirling with dark greys and blues, the smell of rain high in the air as if a downpour was ready to come at any moment.

“Who was that, earlier on?” Your brother asked, after a moment.

You held in a breath. “Who?”

“The guy you were talking to, in the cafe. You looked upset.”

“He’s just,” you paused. “A friend. Or we were friends, I don’t know.” You muttered, your eyes stuck on the ground as the both of you walked together.

Your brother was quiet for a second from next to you, and you thought that you had been vague enough for him to drop the subject, but no such luck. “Did you guys date?”

Pausing, again you weren’t sure how to answer. “Not really.”

Looking at your sibling next to you, you saw him watching you with a little furrow between his brows. “What do you mean, not really?”

“Like,” you sighed. “Kind of, I don’t know. We had… a thing but never really went out I guess. Either way, I think it’s over.”

“You looked upset,” he repeated, as you turned onto the steps to your apartment and searched for your keys. “Did he say something, or…?”

You shot your brother a glance, nearly smiling as you shook your head. “No, it just…” you trailed off. You kind of wished you could tell him more, but also didn’t know what to say.

You opened the door to the building, letting the two of you in before walking up the flight of stairs together to your floor.

“You can talk to me, you know.” His words caught you slightly by surprise. You wanted to be able to talk about it with him, you wanted to be someone who could talk about anything they wanted with the people that were close in their lives.

Remaining silent the rest of the way up the stairs, neither of you spoke until your apartment door shut behind you.

“I kind of fucked everything up,” you sighed, words falling free from your mouth. Your brother put down his bag on the shelf by the door, watching you as he kicked off his shoes.

“I felt – I don’t know,” you repeated the three words for the thousandth time. “Today I think I completely pushed him away.”

Your brother was quiet, leaning against the kitchen counter. “Is that what you wanted?”

“I mean,” you sighed. “No. I don’t know, maybe. The thing is, he didn’t do anything wrong, not really. And I know that, and I feel dumb for it but I just –”

You cut yourself off, hearing the small shake in your voice. You knew if you kept speaking that tears would start to fall from your eyes, always being an angry and frustrated crier.

“But now I probably fucked that up for good. It was nothing serious to begin with so I’m sure I only scared him off.”

Your brother cleared his throat, unmoving as he spoke softly. “You don’t know that.”

“I guess,” you sighed, grabbing a glass from the cupboard for some water.

“I always do this,” this time, a few tears fell past your eyes as you couldn’t do anything to hold them in anymore. “I always said I needed to be more selfish in life and let things come my way but I – I guess I was selfish because I did what I did for no reason other than protecting myself.”

“Protecting yourself?”

You wiped your cheeks with the back of your hand, slightly tilting your head back as if to blink back in the tears that were freely falling.

“I do the hurting before I can get hurt, you know?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping that the rest of the tears inside your eyes would fall and you’d be done, but it didn’t seem to work quite like that. You opened them when you felt his hand on your shoulder, wrapping you in for a small side hug.

“You,” he sighed. The two of you had never been that affectionate with each other, it was something you were not used to. “You deserve more than that.”

You think that it is one of the nicest things he has ever said to you.

“I always fucking do this, you know? I don’t know why; I don’t even notice I do it until after.”

You were on a roll, now freely crying and letting everything you wanted to say fall from your mouth. “I can’t – I feel so stuck. I don’t know why I’m so afraid of everything.”

“I just can’t let myself be happy for some reason.”

His hand squeezed your shoulder. “You deserve to be happy, too.”

The two of you were quiet as you cried. Letting the tears fall down your face, chest shaking with small heaves as you let everything out.

After a moment, he asked you. “You really like him, huh?”

“What?” Your voice cracked lightly, breathing evening out as you wiped away the wet streaks on your skin.

“The guy, at your work. I don’t think you’ve ever told me about anyone you’ve dated.”

“I have too,” you muttered lightly, although you knew he was right. You had mentioned names in passing, only of the few more serious relationships you were in. Even then, the details were very sparse.

“But seriously,” he continued. “It’s okay to let yourself be vulnerable. Sometimes that’s all you can really do.”

You let him wrap you in a true hug, something you don’t think you’d done with your brother since you were young.

“Do you want to order in? It looks like the rain finally started,” he spoke after pulling away. “We can eat, watch a movie.”

You nodded, the idea of food sounding like the best thing in the world right now. “That sounds good, yeah.”

“You choose what we watch,” he nodded to you, grabbing his phone from the counter, presumably to order whatever kind of food he had in mind.

Wordlessly walking over to your couch, opening up your Netflix as you mindlessly scrolled. You weren’t really paying close attention to the titles, mind still stuck on the little breakdown you had just had.

“What was the French movie you always used to watch when you were sad? I don’t mind watching that if you want.” You head your brother call from the kitchen.

“Oh,” you hummed, nodding at the perfect suggestion. Already knowing that Netflix had Amelie, you quickly found it and had it ready to play.

“It’s a happy one, right?” Your brother spoke, as he sat next to you on the couch while you watched the rain hit the window and pulled a thick blanket over your legs.

“Kind of,” you nodded. “It is a nice ending, but it’s a kind of happy-sad movie, you know?”

“Did you not want to watch it, then?”

“No, no I do,” you offered him a small smile. “I like to watch it when I feel lonely, or upset. Plus, I almost like that happy-sad feeling, it feels just more realistic.”

There was something about it, about your self-induced melancholy. There was still something that felt right, about sitting under a heavy blanket after your wallowing, the only noise around you coming from the rain against the window and the opening notes of Yann Tiersen’s soundtrack playing.

There was something so calming and comforting about the music coming from the TV, a soundtrack you knew maybe too well considering the amount of times you had seen the movie, on top of how often you simply listened to the soundtrack itself on its own.

But a little comfort was just something you needed right now.

You had your little days of comfort, wallowing, lounging, and relaxing. Your time with your brother ended up being surprisingly pleasant, and you two left off on a good note.

You still had three more days off until you had to go back to work, Grace was coming in and covering one of your shifts since you had picked up those extra ones when no one else could.

You spent those days relaxing, getting dinner with Mae and some other friends, running errands, and cleaning out your entire apartment. The weather never changed, the rain pouring the entire time, something that you for now were enjoying because it made you feel okay for lounging at home.

But now you powered down the street as you were about to be late, with your umbrella swaying in the wind and your off-white sneakers splashing in the puddles. You felt the relaxation of your week off slipping away and a small pit of anxiety settle in.

It wasn’t about going to work that stressed you out so much, it was about the possibility of seeing someone who you usually seemed to see at the café.

Once you pushed past the heavy front door, you immediately were looking around at every table to see if you could spot the familiar figure of curly hair as he hunched over the table, twirling pencils between his fingers.

But he wasn’t there, and that table where he usually sat in the back was occupied by a middle-aged woman sipping a latte and speaking loudly on the phone.

He wasn’t there when you were steaming milk and someone was asking you about who had painted the paintings that were hanging on the walls, and he wasn’t there when you had to close alone.

The following day was the same, as well as the weekend, and the next week.

That particular Monday morning you thought you might see him, a shift where he never failed to come in even if he couldn’t sit and stay.

But the only familiar faces were those of older regulars who talked to you about the changing weather and the week of rain that was happening.

That week slipped by, just as the other had. It had been two weeks since you’d had your little breakdown, and since you’d indulged in your self-sabotaging streak. You really knew that it was the wrong thing to do, but just like everything else, you knew that this would pass.

When you really thought about it, he was just listening to you. You had basically told him to leave you alone and that was what he was doing.

But when it had been over two weeks since you’d seen him, you realized you might have had the slightest tinge of heartache.

Just as you would always do, you pushed that feeling away. Telling yourself to forget about it and move on, and that would be that. A thing of the past, a future memory.

Though things had a funny way of working out, apparently it was in store for you to see Harry again.

Nearly halfway through September, the air fresher and more crisp, another thing about the changing weather had you pleased that you could layer on a big sweater but didn’t need a thick coat.

That Monday, you were coming in for the afternoon shift, distracted by attempting to close your soaking wet umbrella when the door of the coffee shop swung open and nearly smacked you in the face.

Taking a stumbling step back in shock, the umbrella in your hand still opened with the rain hitting the top of your head because, of course, the light-knit jacket you were wearing didn’t have a hood.

“Sorry,” deep voice muttering over the sound of cars driving on the wet road, a taller figure appearing from where the door had opened. “You alright – oh –”

Head turning at the far too familiar voice, looking up to be stared down by those clear green eyes.

Fuck.

He had a big coat on just as you did, a hair seeming a bit wet as well and sticking to the skin on the side of his face. There was a little 4 oz cup in his hand, looking so much smaller than it usually did, eclipsed by the size of his hand.

Fuck.

The two of you must’ve looked a bit ridiculous, both with wide eyes and mouths agape, stuck in the doorway of a café with rain hitting the tops of your heads. But you couldn’t move, and you couldn’t walk away, and you wished that the rain would form a current and swiftly wash you away.

“Sorry,” you eventually blurted, gaining a confused look from Harry.

He had the corner of his bottom lip between his teeth, fingertips tapping against the little cup in his hands. Part of you hoped he felt as nervous as you did, but part of you also knew he was probably upset with you and wanted nothing to do with you.

“Have nothing to be sorry for…” he eventually said, words trailing off as if he wanted to say more.

Your eyes shot through the glass window of the coffee shop, knowing you were now officially late for your shift and that maybe someone would run out and tell you that you absolutely had to get to work, but again, no such luck. You could see Aleena yawning through the coffee shop opening.

Again, there was that pit of anxiety, the one that twisted your stomach and made your legs feel numb, as if you couldn’t stand straight but couldn’t move either.

“I didn’t think you were working today,” his words pulled you from your thoughts. “I uh, didn’t see you this morning and thought –”

He cut himself off, stumbling over his words, his gaze flicking away from yours. You didn’t even know what to respond, hoping that anything could get you out of this awkward encounter.

“Sorry,” he said quietly, just as you had.

You shook your head, biting your lips together. He had absolutely nothing to be sorry for.

“You –” again stopping yourself, not knowing how to say what you wanted to say. “I need to get to work…” you said instead, a small point to the door of the café that was still slightly propped open.

“Right – of course,” he took a wide step out of the way, allowing you space to walk out from the rain and to hold the door open for yourself. “Have a good shift.”

You only sent him a tight smile and a little nod, unsure of what else to say.

Not looking back, you quickly walked across the floor of the café with small squeaks coming from your wet shoes. “Oh my god,” muttered under your breath, feeling yourself heat up and grow uncomfortable under the layers you were wearing.

That entire interaction was so completely embarrassing and awkward, and nothing you wanted to ever happen.

You gave yourself a moment in the back room, hanging up your bag and coat, setting your dripping umbrella on the ground. The door pushed open slightly, Aleena’s voice speaking through the wood. “You okay?”

“Hey,” you opened the door all the way for her, hands running over your dampened hair, you sure looked a bit messy. Aleena watched you quietly for a second, as you smoothed your hands over your pants. “I’m assuming you saw that,” you said to your colleague after a moment.

“I did…” she trailed off. She knew more or less everything that had happened between the both of you, and you had no idea that he still came in and seemingly on purpose when you were not working.

You didn’t want to ask, and you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of asking -- even though that was ridiculous and he wouldn’t possibly know that you were asking about him, but you couldn’t help it. “Does he come in a lot?”

“No,” she shook her head. “First and only time I saw him was today.”

Only nodding, you grabbed your phone from the table and slid it into the back pocket of your pants. The two of you headed out of the back room, you went to clock in and Aleena stood by your side to take the order of a customer.

You followed her to the espresso machine after the order was taken, pulling a shot to make yourself a drink as well.

“He asked about you, you know,” your coworker spoke as you were watching the steady pour of espresso as she was steaming some milk. “He said he thought he’d see you when he came in – which I guess he did.”

Your ears buzzed with her words, but you let the heat in your spine settle as you remembered the reality of the situation. “Didn’t really seem like he wanted to see me.”

Aleena only shook her head, tapping the milk pot on the counter before taking a second to slowly pour it into the mug that already had espresso in it. Once she made a nice big heart with the white foam of the milk, she placed the mug down on the counter and called out the drink before facing you once more.

She looped a finger through the belt loop on your jeans, tugging you towards her tightly. “Babe you’re too hard on yourself,” she spoke as she shook you by the jeans. “He asked about you, asked why you weren’t working this morning.”

You ignored the nervous twist in your stomach at her words, and the heat that rushed to your neck. Although really, you needed to remind yourself that you should remain grounded to reality.

And that seemed to be it, for the moment at least. You had told yourself that you’d made your peace with it, although you knew that really wasn’t true, and so things continued as they always did.

But things had a way of finding the person they were intended for, and on a chilly Saturday afternoon a few days later, it was like a sign had landed right in your lap.

The day was slow, the colder weather usually slowing down clientele for a little while at least a little while. With a lull, you did as you always would and started some cleaning around the café. Wiping down tables, looking for dishes, sweeping up big messes that usually wouldn’t have to be dealt with later on in the day.

Your eyes sweeping over the side of the café, glancing at every table for any forgotten dishes or spilt drinks. Only seeing a few empty mugs left on a table in back, you walked the short distance needed to grab them and wipe over the wooden table with a dampened rag, just as something on the community bulletin board caught your eye when you casually glanced over it.

Two sheets of paper side by side, both the same, were screaming your name.

Metaphorically, of course.

They were posters made to promote an event; the name of the gallery written on top being one you were funnily enough familiar with. But that wasn’t what drew your attention in.

The design of the poster itself was minimal, the only image was front and centre. Image of a painting, one that was bright and cheery and screamed various shades of orange and yellow with a few streaks and splash of blue and green

It was the café.

“Oh my god …” muttering under your breath, you snatched one of the posters off the board as your eyes scanned over the page.

The name of the show was written over top in big bold letters, One Last Time Before You Go, with only one name written beneath it, one name you didn’t even need to read in order to know it was him. With Harry Styles, opening Tuesday September 22nd.

Forgetting the dishes you had been about to pick up, you brought your rag and the paper back to your colleagues.

“Do you know when this was brought in?”

It had to have been yesterday, it was the only day you were off. Noah had no answer for you, saying he hadn’t seen it until now. Aleena, however, had a much different answer for you.

“Oh, shoot sorry babe. I almost forgot,” she grabbed the paper from your hands as Noah went to take an order.

“Forgot what?”

You felt faint, your head was spinning. Why did he put these up here? When did he put these up? Does he come in more often when you're not working, has he asked about you more than that one time Aleena had mentioned?

“I think you know who put these up,” she clicked her tongue, flipping the page over to glance at the backside. “Wrong one…” she muttered.

“What? What do you mean wrong one?” You were babbling, questions flying out of your mouth.

She only smiled, weaving her way around you and until she was leaving from behind the counter and walking back to the bulletin board in the back where you had found it in the first place. You followed, watching her grab the identical one from the board and pin back up the one you had grabbed.

Handing it to you, she nodded her head at it. “He came in yesterday, told me to make sure you saw it. He also left a little something for you on the back.”

You glanced down at the paper in your hands, flipping it around and seeing she was right. On the back was written a note addressed to you in blocky red writing.

“I think you’d enjoy this show, and I’d love for you to be there. Hope to see you, Harry.”

Signed with a little scribbled in red heart and everything.

“Oh my god” you mumbled again, reading and rereading the note again and again.

You forgot you were still standing with Aleena. “You’re going to go, right?”

“What?” Raising your head at the sound of her voice, you saw her watching you with a smile playing on her lips. “I don’t know…”

“I’ll go with you, come on.” She raised an eyebrow at you.

“I think I close,” you stated, very weakly. The opening started at eight, and went until eleven, just like the other one. Even if you were closing, which you realized you weren’t, you would have plenty of time to go.

“No, you don’t,” she stated. “You open and I’m mid-shift. I’ll go with you, c’mon!”

You smiled at her. “You’re the best, you know that?”

“I’ll come to your place that night, and then we’ll go together, okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded slowly.

“Good.”

Three days. For three whole days it was all you could think about.

You knew you had made a bit of a mistake; you really knew that right away – as soon as you had pushed him away.

You wondered how he’d talk to you, if he’d even want to. You wondered if it would be like when you’d run into him briefly outside of the café, if it was going to be awkward and tense with nothing good to come out of it. You knew that technically he had invited you, technically. But still, you really didn’t know if any good could come of it.

Maybe Rory would be there too – tall and gorgeous and literally looking down on you – but also maybe you were just slightly spiralling.

When Tuesday finally arrived, you were practically buzzing, and it wasn’t from the amount of caffeine you had had in the morning.

You took a nap after your opening shift, showering just before Aleena came over. She brought a bottle of wine, immediately opening it and telling you to pour yourself a glass while you got ready.

The weather was still warm enough outside, but there was a brisk fall breeze in the air. Deciding to layer up just a bit since it was also dark out earlier, you pulled a chunky knit cardigan over your patterned orange dress.

After both sharing and finishing off the bottle of wine, you grabbed your beaded purse and headed out the door. You felt as though the wine had helped, but you were still bouncing with nerves. Aleena was chatting your ear off about the car her husband wanted to buy that she thought was too expensive, her story distracting you from your anxious state.

The two of you got to the gallery just before nine o’clock, purposely a bit late.

It was the same energy as the last time you were there, again a man in a red blazer stamping your hand at the entrance right after walking through the double glass doors. Aleena stuck by your side, now done with her story and telling you that you would be okay.

The first painting you saw was directly in the middle. The gallery seemed to be arranged differently than it was before, and although you knew they couldn’t have moved an entire wall, for some reason everything felt more enclosed, more tightly hugged together.

The first painting was the same as the one from the poster, except this time it was in its full size and glory and completely took your breath away. Now as you saw it larger, it was one hundred percent clear to you that it was the café Harry had painted.

“Wow,” Aleena mumbled from next to you, eyes also trained forward. The two of you slowly walked further into the space of the gallery, away from the door and towards that first painting.

It had to be at least seven feet tall, and nearly just as wide. It was all oranges and yellows, with a few streaks of blue. There were also some loosely painted figures of people in front of the shop, all vague and loose but you still wanted to know who he was basing them off of.

After spending another minute or so in front of the painting, you read the small white card that was placed next to it.

Harry Styles And I could sit here for hours. And I did. Oil on canvas, 2020

You read over the words again and again.

If you thought that was breathtaking, you were absolutely not prepared for what was to come.

As you let your eyes wander around the rest of the space, you felt like your heart was a brick in your chest, sinking through your body until it shattered on the floor to your feet.

The gallery was filled with warm hues of orange and blue.

Paintings of hands touching, heads resting on shoulders, arms wrapped around each other. Paintings of what you recognized to be the café, paintings of shared fruits, paintings of your favourite colours and your favourite places in the city.

You felt so overwhelmed and you didn’t know where to start.

Finding it in yourself to move your feet, you walked towards the nearest wall away from the entrance. From the corner of your eye you had seen a smaller piece, one that was drawing in your attention. It was slightly tucked away near two bigger paintings, but your eyes remained stuck on this particular one.

The blue was so strongly familiar, like the wave of the ocean encompassing your entire body and pulling you away with it. You realized, as you squinted slightly at the smaller canvas, just why it was calling out to you.

“You keep it,” you shook your head as Harry tried to convince you to take the barely started painting with you home.

“Are you sure?” He watched as you swung your bag over your shoulder, having slipped the light cardigan you had brought in case it got cold.

You nodded. “I couldn’t do much with it, I don’t even have paint at home.”

“Okay,” he slowly nodded, eyes falling to the ground as he placed the small canvas on the table next to him. “Guess I will need something to remember this day by.”

You only laughed, watching the way his eyes glowed with his joke, before dipping your head down and hid your smile as you slipped on your shoes. You wanted to brush off his little comment, but really it made your stomach twist with the possibility that he did really want to remember every moment of his time with you.

The feeling of his hands gripping your thighs barely an hour ago was still burned into your skin, and you were sure to find a few more streaks of paint along yours legs that a part of you was excited to see.

“Let me walk you home,” his words took you slightly off guard, not expecting the offer.

“Oh,” you stood up after tying the laces on your sneakers, “you don’t have to, I’ll be f –”

“I want to,” he cut you off, as you faced him. “And it’s late out and …” he paused, biting his lips together, “and I want to.”

“Okay,” you smile, wanting him to walk with you too. “That would be nice.”

He grabbed a lightweight black jacket that was sitting on the shelf by the door, slipping his arms through it as he held his front door open for you.

The two of you walked side by side, down the emptying street as the moon rose in the sky and the air cooled down. You discussed your day off, and what you had going on with some friends that you hadn’t seen in a while. He told you about how he had promised his friend to help him move, a feat that no one enjoyed.

“What do you think you’re going to do with that painting I started?” You asked, as your feet came to a stop in front of the stairs that led to your building.

“Hmm,” he raised his head slightly, as if thinking deeply about his answer. One of his hands rested at his side, while the other slipped around your back until he was hugging you from the side. “Think I’ll hang it above my bed.”

You let out a small laugh, feeling his hand pinch your hip. Shoving him with your elbow lightly, as if to try and push him away, but he quickly tightened his grip around you and pulled you into his chest instead.

Only laughing again, chest shaking against his and you felt his other hand wrap around you and keep you locked in close. You instinctively raised a hand to his neck, fingertips toying with the strands of hair that poked out above the collar of his jacket, while your other hand rested on his shoulder.

He kept his gaze locked with yours, smile in his features and on his lips as he mirrored your laugh. You only stared up at him, feeling like the two of you were the only ones standing on the street, like the only ones in the city.

You saw his smile die down a bit, before his lips parted slightly. You knew you were staring at his mouth, and when you finally looked back into his eyes you saw him staring at yours as well.

“Do you think things happen for a reason?”

He spoke lowly, his eyes meeting yours again. You felt as though his words carried the weight of the world, but his tone was light as he peered down at you.

“I don’t know…” you shook your head, unable to think. “Why?”

Harry only hummed, remaining quiet as he kept you pressed tight against his chest. “Do you?” You asked after a second, throat feeling dry.

His head dipped down the slightest bit, his nose nearly brushing yours. You let your eyelids close lightly, feeling his lips nudge yours as he spoke again. “Could be,” he hummed, the words pressed as kisses on your mouth.

You couldn’t remember what he was even responding to.

His lips pressed lightly with yours, a sweet kiss of opening mouths and whispers of names. His hands around your back held you tight, as he let out a shaky little sigh against your mouth.

Pulling away for a second, he murmured softly from across you.

“I think I’m starting to have a pretty good idea of what to do with that painting.”

It was the painting. He had added some details over what you had started, more than some. There was nearly an entire figure added, but it was the painting.

The one you had started with him the first time the two of you truly purposely hung out outside of the café, the second time he had kissed you. The painting you didn’t get the chance to finish because he had laid you down on the floor with his head between your thighs and his name on your lips.

Slowly walking towards it, you let your eyes scan over every stroke of the brush.

The figure on the canvas – you knew it was you. Lying there on the floor, only painted from the chest up. Your dress was blending in with the background, one arm bent with your hand resting just above your head. Face turned to the side, you had your eyes shut and your bottom lip between your teeth, though still a hint of a smile on your face.

Orange and pink highlights over your cheeks and under your jaw, lighting up your entire face as the rest of the painting was more gestural and less defined.

To anyone who looked at it, you were sure it must look like someone lying in the sun, perfectly content. You had absolutely no idea how he had captured your likeness. It was done in an extremely realistic manner, but it was you.

You glanced at the white card next to it, breath stopping in your throat when you read over it.

What did my fingers do, before they held you? Acrylic on canvas, 2020

Over the title, just as every other card in the gallery was his name. But with this particular painting, there was a little “, and” following his name, where yours was written.

You were in awe. Technically, the two of you had both put paint onto this canvas but for him to credit you?

Stuck in front of the painting for who knows how long, you had multiple people come and pass you as you stood there. It was when a familiar voice broke you out of your daze, that you finally turned around.

“It’s my favourite piece too.”

Your stomach twisted into a big huge knot. When your eyes fell to him, you felt like you had forgotten your own name.

He looked so handsome, and maybe even nervous with the way his hands were fidgeting with each other. He had a bright yellow sweater on, collar of a shirt underneath peaking through, with some light grey trousers and a longer black jacket over everything.

His hair was falling perfectly in soft curls around his face, that sweet little smile on his lips as he met your gaze.

“I was worried you wouldn’t come…” he spoke softly, fingertips rubbing over the skin of his bottom lip.

You were sure you looked like a deer in the headlights, eyes widened as you looked at him and failing to come up with anything to say.

“I was worried you wouldn’t even see that poster I put up,” he continued, after you didn’t say anything. “And that you wouldn’t have seen the note I left.”

“Aleena,” you finally spoke, voice quiet as you turned around for a second and waved your arm around to the general space behind you to motion to wherever Aleena stood. “She showed me.”

“Good, good,” he nodded, hands clasped together as your eyes met again. “That’s good.”

A small silence hung in the air, and you wanted to sink into the ground. “I actually saw the poster first,” you blurted in a quick breath, a small sigh leaving your parted lips as you paused. “I recognized your art.”

You saw a smile dance over his features, calming you down the slightest bit. “Really?”

Nodding, you couldn’t help the way your eyes darted over his features again. “Really.”

A pause in conversation again, the two of you stood facing each other, both unsure of what to say or do. “Harry I –”

You cut yourself off, just as he started to speak. “What do you –”

Another little silence hung in the air, before you cleared your throat and spoke again. “The show – it’s really…”

Again, you found yourself unable to properly finish a sentence.

Harry rocked forward on his feet slightly, a little furrow in his brow as he watched you attentively. “Do you like it?”

“It’s so,” you glanced around, completely at a loss for words. “Harry it’s so – it’s beautiful.”

His features relaxed. “Yeah?”

You nodded, feeling your nerves calm down. “Yeah. I don’t even know how you did all this,” your words trailing off as you glanced around once more. “I mean, its all…”

“You. It’s all you.”

You didn’t think you had ever heard him speak so surely about anything. Your heart twisted and jumped in your chest, pounding so heavily that you could barely focus on your breathing.

“Harry –” your voice shook, unable to finish your sentence once more as you didn’t even know what to say and you didn’t think you could properly control your voice at the moment.

He shook his head, lips pulling a bit higher in a smile, although you could still see the way his teeth anxiously pulled at his bottom lip. “Have a look around,” he spoke softly. “We can talk after?”

You nodded lightly. You didn’t deserve him.

“After.”

#i am nervous and excited !! please do come tell me what you thought !!!🥰#🥺 i hope everyone enjoyed #cb #harry styles #harry styles writing #harry syles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine

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theydontknowaboutusimagines · 4 years

Text

A Night to Remember - Harry Styles One Shot

“Shit. Holy fucking shit.” you mumbled to yourself staring at the pee stick on the granite bathroom counter.

Picking it up for a closer look, sure enough the word “Positive” glared back at you.

“Wow,” you whispered. “I’m pregnant.”

You looked up at you reflection in the mirror. Your hair was in curlers and you had just finished putting on your makeup when you got the urge to finally take the test that’s been burning a hole in the pharmacy bag hidden under the bathroom cabinet.

There were only a few hours before the Grammy’s, the award show you’ll be attending in support of your boyfriend, Harry Styles. Why you thought it was a good idea to know this prior to the show, you didn’t know, but now this was all you were going to be thinking about.

Okay, so the biggest reason why you needed to know is because you would need to know if you could drink, which obviously is not going to happen now. Not that you were a big drinker anyway, but it was a special night.

“Hey, babe, you almost ready? Harry’s heading over with our clothes,” Harry knocked on the door.

Shit, how were you supposed to tell him. Should you tell him? Well, you were going to tell him eventually, but right before one of the biggest nights of his career probably wasn’t the best.

“Uh, yeah, I’ll be out in a second,” you respond.

You waited until he was no longer on the other side of the door before throwing the box, directions, and used test back into the bag and putting it back its rightful place for the time being.

“I’ll tell him tonight... when we get back. Or tomorrow... depending...” you nod to yourself.

“Okay, I can do this. I’ll just act like everything’s fine... because it is...” you whispered.

And it was, you and Harry had talked about starting a family, not necessarily this soon, but you both knew it could happen eventually.

Eventually, is now apparently.

About two hours later, you and Harry, along with a few members of his team arrived at the venue for the Grammys. It was your first time being there, but you could tell it felt different for everyone with the new set up. Since Harry was set to perform first, you would be able to head into the actual venue where the stage was to watch his performance, then you would be taken to your table at the award’s stage.

So far, everything was going great, Harry was too distracted to know you were hiding a gigantic secret. But you didn’t know how much longer it would work. You didn’t think you were acting differently, but you felt distracted by the information you were holding in, so it probably wouldn’t take long for someone else to notice.

After Harry’s performance, which you loved despite not really getting into it, you were shown to your table. A few minutes after, Harry arrived, changed back into his red carpet outfit. When he reached you, he kissed the top of your head and sat down.

“You were great,” you smiled. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks, baby,” he smiled. “It felt amazing being back up on stage again.”

“I bet,” you smiled.

“I’ve got us some drinks coming our way. They should be here soon,” Harry said.

“Oh, uh, thank you, but I don’t feel like drinking tonight, but you go right ahead,” you smiled.

“What’s wrong?” He asked. “You feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I feel uh, fine. Just nerves I guess,” you shrugged.

“I’m the one up for the awards, love,” he laughed.

“And? That doesn’t mean I can’t be nervous for you!” You scolded with a laugh.

He laughed kissing your cheek before turning back to the screen showing the other performances.

Throughout the night, you felt Harry staring at you and you knew your fears where coming to light. He knew something else was up with you and it wasn’t just nerves.

“Y/N, what’s going on?” He whispered taking your hand into his.

“I told you, it’s nothing,” you said.

“You can’t lie to me,” he said. “I know when something is bothering you, so tell me.”

“This isn’t exactly the time or place,” you sighed.

“So, there is something,” he said.

“Yes, okay?” You sighed. “I just... there is something, but I’m not telling you until after we leave.”

“Damn it, just tell me now,” he sighed.

“I want you to enjoy your night without distractions,” you said.

“Well, I’m not going to be able to fucking do that now, knowing there’s something going on with you,” he responded.

You sighed, shaking your head before looking over at him. “I’m pregnant.”

Harry’s eyes widen, “What?”

“I’m a few days late, so I bought a test, took it this afternoon and it was positive,” you sighed.

“Oh, fuck,” he whispered. “And you’re sure?”

“As sure as the test and a missed period can be, yeah,” you sighed.

Before he could respond, your conversation was interrupted by Harry’s category being called and them announcing he had won a Grammy.

“You won! Harry, you fucking won!” Jeff smiled walking over and getting Harry’s attention.

“Wait, what?” He said looking shocked and confused in more ways than one.

“Go, you did it,” you smiled. “We’ll talk later.”

Harry finally went up the stage to claim his Grammy, but you could tell he was super overwhelmed and nervous. Tears formed in your eyes as you watched him up on that stage giving his speech and you couldn’t help but picture how this time next year, there would be a little one at home cheering their Daddy on.

And with that little moment, everything that was about to change in your life would be worth it.

#Harry Styles imagines #Harry Styles One Shots #Harry Syles FanFics #Harry Styles Fanfiction

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harryskalechips · 4 years

Text

This sucks Part 3

A/N Hiiiiii! Here is part 3! It’s a bit fat but I hope you enjoy 🥰

Word count 5644

Warning: Smut :))))

Part 1, Part 2

Flashback…

Vanilla, warmth, and little giggles were the best things Harry could wake up to and although, he couldn’t have it all the time - at Y/N’s apartment they were always available.

A finger slowly drags itself across his face as he tries to hide his smile. Grazing from his nose to his cheeks to the outline of his soft lips. Muffled laughs fill the room as Y/N tries to wake him up. She bites onto her pillow as she tickles her boyfriend’s face.

“Ouch!” She yelps as her boyfriend caught her finger in his mouth. He opens his eyes to find her beautiful hair sprawled out on the white pillow sheets. The light from her window was shining through her curtains hitting the corner of their bed. He teasingly bites as he sucks on it while his eyes stare innocently at her.

A few seconds later, the wet digit falls from his lips as he moves closer to wrap his arm on his girl. His face finds a comforting position between her shoulder and her neck.

“Waking me up love?” He murmurs as his mouth leaves wet kisses on her shoulder.

“I love tracing your features. Sometimes I forget this real.” She turns over to face him. Her hand tracing his jaw this time. “You’re really pretty you know.”

“I think you’re prettier than me.” Harry leans in to kiss her. His hands gripping onto her waist as he tries to rub himself on her soft legs.

“Not true. You’re the best man that I’ve ever known.” She wasn’t lying. All her past boyfriends didn’t want to treat her right but somehow she found herself in bed with a man who seemed to actually care for her. Her hips involuntary move forward as he sits up a bit to hover over her.

“Someone’s a little excited, don’t you think?” He licks his lips as he takes both of her hands and holds them above her. “Last night wasn’t enough baby?”

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” She glances down as she purposely bites her lip. She then looks up at him innocently. “Harry Jr. seems like he’s begging for more.” He laughs as he turns his head to the side to look at the window.

“We should probably give him what he wants right?”

“Mhm.” He leans down to kiss her as she thrusts her hips forward.

“Fuck baby, look at you.”

Bzzz. Bzzz. ….. Bzzz. Bzzzz…..

Harry pulls away and gets off of her as Y/N sighs. She reaches the side of her nightstand to grab her phone. It’s her alarm. “I have to get ready for class.” She pouts as Harry palms himself.

“Maybe, you should stay in bed a bit longer. I won’t have you for long especially since you’re coming with me back to London next week.” He takes the blanket off of her so he can put it behind his back and throw it onto both of them. “See, now we’re both warm and we can get back to what we were doing.” He attempts to snuggle her. His mouth forming into a smile as he almost feels her body relax back into his arms.

“I’m sorry baby. You may be a pop star but I need to get a degree.” She kisses his lips as she gets up from the bed. Harry watches her as she takes his hoodie from last night and puts it on. “Now, I’m going to make breakfast while you help Harry junior.” She awkwardly makes guns with her fingers as she walks back to open her bedroom door.

“Or you can come here and watch me. Better yet, help me out.” He smirks as he leans forward to pull her back to bed. “Don’t need to make breakfast if I got my meal right here.”

When Harry was younger during his days in One Direction, They took some time in every country to explore a bit. He found himself in this old family vintage store with Niall during their time in Japan of 2013. As they looked at some of the things they sold, he couldn’t help but be fascinated by the little treasures that people forgot about. He was walking through the opposite aisle where his mate was when his eyes caught sight of the red strings that were hooked onto the wall. He didn’t know what they were but his hand couldn’t help but intertwine itself into the strings.

“You like that?” The old lady slowly walks to him as she grips onto the shelves to help herself walk. “That no buy. Therefore decoration.” Harry immediately pulls away as he tries to hide his embarrassed face from her. “You know what it’s about?” She smiles at him as she touches the strings too. “It’s the red thread of fate.” Harry looks at her with a confused facial expression.

“The red string of fate connects two destined lovers together. Regardless of time, place or circumstances… this magical thread…” She struggles to translate her thoughts into English for this young man. “May stretch or tangle but it will never break.”

Ever since that trip, Harry couldn’t forget that myth in that little shop. Maybe, the old lady was bullshitting him but he couldn’t get rid of that thought. The thought of having a soulmate. It was the hopeless romantic side of him that believed his girl was there waiting for him and no matter where he is or what happens… he will find her. Y/N. The girl he met as he was buying coffee close to Columbia Records’ building.

It was an accident when she turned around too quickly to only pour her $5 coffee on him. Being a gentleman he is, he bought her a new cup of coffee as they walked alongside each other to a secluded bench off a trail they found themselves on while at the park.

But as time kept moving forward, his heart began to mend again after feeling death on his shoulders for the past year.

It was now, December but more importantly, it’s been exactly a year since he met her. He could barely survive his tour without her but now that it’s been a long while, he knew too well that nothing could happen. What happened to her being his soulmate? He obviously took her for granted and now she’s gone. All he has left is his beaten up journal with loose papers sticking out as it gathers dust on his piano.

“Should I leave?” A raspy feminine voice interrupts his thoughts as he takes his gaze off his piano and onto the girl wearing his shirt.

“Yeah. Take off my shirt too.” He sips the hot liquid into his mouth as he holds onto the handle of his mug. “Put it in the laundry basket.” He eyes her as she walks back into his room. He had just finished his tour for Fine Line and now that his schedule was free, he had some spare time on his hands. Especially to play around with Eva.

He doesn’t love the girl. No way! but he does get lonely some nights and instead of calling the number he knows by heart, he forces his finger to tap another one.

It doesn’t snow in Los Angeles but Y/N always found herself craving a cup of hot coffee from Blitzers during times like these. It wasn’t the cliche feeling of having a warm cup in her hand as she walked through the snow instead, she used it as her drug. During her time in University, caffeine was the only thing that got her moving. She graduated last June and now she is finding herself nervous as hell after having one of her many interviews at another stupid corporation. She takes her cup from the counter as another name is called.

“Hershell?”

“Sorry to bump into you, love.” A man bumps into her shoulder as he tries to grab his drink while she tries to walk away. He was wearing his shades and the hood of his hoodie was on as he made a perfectly criss-cross tie in the front with the strings. She glanced at him quickly and gave him a nod as she continued walking out of the shop. Was that him?

“Y/N.” The familiar voice calls her out as she turns around to smile at him. Harry held the door for another customer entering and soon let’s go.

“I was wondering if that was you in there.” She eyes the iced coffee in his hands.

“Long time no see.” He walks towards her. As he stood 4 feet from her, he hid his hand in his pocket while he observed her. He truly thought he would never see her after his show in September but somehow the first visit back to this coffee shop, his eyes already caught her figure as she bumped into him… again. Her hair grew longer and it seemed like she dyed the ends. She was holding onto her cup of coffee as she had her purse in another. A pink lip and a business sort of like outfit.

“You graduated right? Where are you working now?” He takes a sip of his cold drink. Luckily, his shades covered his eyes. He was almost embarrassed just by remembering their last encounter. Remember when you begged for her like a pathetic dog and she still rejected you?

“Oh, I’m applying for a couple of jobs. I never knew you still get your drinks here.” Y/N switches the subject quickly. She couldn’t help but feel a bit sad that she wasn’t good enough for any of the businesses here.

“Yeah um, I actually just finished the last leg for my tour this year. I was just craving some coffee after having a meeting from work.”

“Cool.” She bites her lip as she pretends to be in shock after looking at her watch. It wasn’t even working. She hasn’t replaced the batteries in 7 years! “Look H. I have to go. It was nice seeing you.” She was scared to lean in and hug him.

“Alright bye.” He purses his lips as he watches her turn around. “Catch you next time.” What? Why would you say that? You haven’t seen her for 8 months nor do you have her number!

It was weird to see her walk away from him again but this time it was as if those four months of dating meant nothing to them. There were no tears in her eyes or his. Instead, they’re in the busy streets casually bumping into each other and bidding farewell as if they hadn’t cried their hearts out the last time.

“You saw him again and the first thing you do is attempt to cut the conversation short?” Jenna sits in front of Y/N in their booth as they wait for their plates to arrive. “Babe, remember last time we spoke? You missed him.” Her hand takes Y/N’s across the table. They’ve been best friends since the first year of Uni and despite the new stage in their lives, they chose to keep in touch.

“Jenna, he looked good.” Y/N rests her head on the table. She looks up to the girl and pouts. “He had his hood on and his sunglasses but the way he called out for me when he exited the shop…. He’s moved on.”

“First off, you told him to move on. He was crying on his knees begging you to be with him in September. Lastly, what do you mean just by the way he called you out? How do you know he’s over you?”

“I don’t know. He just sounded okay.” Y/N sits up and rests her chin on her hands. “He went through his 7 stages of grief while I chose to just forget about it.”

“Karma is a bitch huh? Now you want him back?” She laughs a bit. “Look Y/N, you can’t let yourself be stubborn your whole life. If you know what you want. Take it. Stop being so scared. Now, Harry’s gone and you lost one of your chances to be in a happy relationship with a great guy.”

“He’s probably with some other girl now.”

“So what? If you can’t have him at least try to keep in your life. He made you happy.” Jenna’s eyes look behind Y/N to see their food coming. “Now let’s eat. I have to tell you all about my desk buddy at work. He’s a total cutie.”

As Y/N was walking the stairs to her apartment, she noticed Jim her landlord standing in front of her door. He was a nice guy. His family lived on the first floor and during the holidays, he would always deliver some homemade curry his wife made while she exchanged her own signature dish for them to enjoy.

“Hey, Jim.” She smiles.

“Hello Y/N, I know it’s late but I wanted to remind you about your bills. I know this whole year has been a struggle but I was hoping you would get a job by now and pay them.”

“I know I’m sorry. I promise I’ll give you my rent for this month just give me an extra few weeks.” She sighs. Don’t misunderstand. She was able to pay her rent every month it just took her a couple of weeks every time to get the money in. Now, that she has student debt and no job, it was more of a struggle. Funny thing is as much Harry adored her homey apartment, he had no idea she was struggling to pay for the place. He just assumed it was school stressing her out but maybe that’s why Y/N needed a reason to take a break from him. It was hard to focus on getting money while your boyfriend just threw money in the air for fun.

She needed a job and she needed one right now.

“Hello?”

“Hey Glenne, I need a favour.”

“Harry, you never know taking this brand deal may do you good.” Jeff parks the car in front of Glenne’s building. He always picked her up from work and today after having lunch with Harry, he decided to bring him on the ride.

“I know but I was thinking of taking a break from the cameras.”

“And write new music? You have a thousand of those in your journal.”

“Anything that was written about Y/N, won’t be recorded for anyone to listen publicly.” He shakes his head as he leans back in the seats. He was sitting in the back since Glenne was obviously going to sit with her boyfriend. But those songs he wrote for Y/N was his only evidence that what happened between them wasn’t a fling. Despite being together for four months, it was intense and real.

“Hey, babe!” Glenne opens the door to sit down and kiss him. “Harry fuck! I didn’t know you were with him.” She turns around to see Harry, confused.

“What’s wrong?” Jeff questions as Glenne looks out her window with anxiety.

“I offered Y/N a ride home. She had an interview with my boss today.” Harry’s eyes widen. Holy shit. Was he going to see Y/N regardless if he went to the coffee shop or not.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jeff looks at Harry then at his girlfriend.

“Why didn’t you tell me you brought H with you!” She was cut off as Y/N opens the back door.

“Hey Je- Oh! Hi Harry.” She smiles and sits down in the car. Glenne can already imagine Y/N choking her the next time they see each other alone.

“Hey Y/N. Sorry, I brought Harry along, we just had lunch together.”

“That’s alright.”

“We’ll drop you home first and then H,” Glenne reassures Y/N as Jeff drives out of the lot.

“Hey.” Harry looks at Y/N. He smiles softly biting his cheek. He was nervous as fuck as he sat very closely to her. She smiles back and decides to talk to Glenne for the rest of the ride.

“Your boss offered me a job.”

“Oh my god, I’m so happy for you!” she turns back to smile at her. “You deserve it!”

“Thanks!”

After twenty minutes of driving and catching up, Jeff’s car pulls up to a familiar building Harry and Y/N knew too well. Back when they were dating, he used to cover his face walking into her apartment at night. Now, he stayed in his friend’s car just looking at it.

“Thanks for the ride guys.” Y/N opens the door to get out. “Bye Harry.” She waves at him as she steps out. Harry just looked at her as she closed the door. They watched her step into the building before driving off again.

“Can you stop the car?” Harry blurts out as Jeff waits for the cars to clear so he can turn onto the road and off the property.

“Harry.” Glenne looks at him in pity. “Don’t tell me what I think you’re doing.”

“I have to.”

“You’re right.” Jeff unlocks the doors and glances at his friend. “Go talk to her.”

His heart was beating fast. Faster than ever this past year. “Thanks, mate.” He smiles at the guy who looks at him in surprise. It was Jim who just so happened to be watering the plants in the lobby. Harry opens the door to the stairwell and runs 4 flights of stairs to Y/N’s floor. He would’ve used the elevator but after a whole year, he knew better that it still wouldn’t be fixed.

Knock knock…

Y/N somehow had managed to change in a pair of shorts and a shirt as soon as she came home today. Her plan was to drink a couple of glasses of wine tonight in celebration of finally getting a job.

“Harry?” She opens the door in shock to see him panting. He was wearing his black jeans and a regular band tee.

“Hi, I was thinking if we could talk.”

“Alright come on in.” She opens the door wider for him. He looked around her apartment to see how nothing has changed. It still looked the very same. It still smelled the same. All he was wondering if she has changed.

They sit on the couch as Y/N grabs another wine glass for him. “I know it’s a bit early but I was planning on drinking in celebration of today.”

“I know. Congratulations by the way.”

“Thanks.” She pours him a bit and some for herself. It was just about 5 PM and a little drink wouldn’t hurt. “How are you?”

“I’m okay.” He looks at her as he talks a bit more slowly now. It almost seemed like a dream to be here again. “I had to ask Jeff to stop his car so I can be here. I just thought that maybe we should catch up.”

“Oh… true.” she takes a sip of her wine. Was there a possibility that Harry still thought of her. She knew he was too good for her. How could he? He deserves someone better. But she promised herself after walking home from dinner with Jenna, that if this offered ever came up again... she would take it.

“I thought you had a car?” He looked around in the picture frames. He didn’t know what her boyfriend looked like but he wondered if they were still together.

“I actually uh sold it to get some money.” It was true. She had so many part-time jobs as a student that she simply burnt out after graduation. She was exhausted and the only thing she could do to earn a couple of months off was selling her car.

“Oh.” Harry looks at her in pity. “You loved that sedan though.”

“It was shit anyway and it’s not like my mom would give me some money if I even asked.” Harry knew the broken relationship between Y/N and her mother. It wasn’t a surprise that on the plane ride to London, Y/N was too excited to meet his.

“Doesn’t your boyfriend give you rides?” He puts his wine glass down as he sits beside his ex-girlfriend. He likes to befriend his exes especially if they ended on good terms but it never numbs down the pain he felt.

For Y/N, she was different. Maybe he wanted to befriend her but there was obviously that little feeling of wanting her back. Yes, he knows he said he was over her. He said it multiple times as he sat in the seat in front of his bed as Eva slept in his sheets. But somehow, seeing her again made his mind cloudy and his heart itchy. Too selfish and tempted to get back what was once his.

“We broke up in October. He uh cheated on me.”

“What the fuck? Are you okay?” Harry frowns as he sits up a bit more.

“It’s fine.” She laughs as she places her glass back on her table. “I wasn’t that into him. He was way too jealous about things.” Harry raises his eyebrows for her to continue. “He was jealous of you asking me to go backstage.” She confesses as she rolls her eyes.

“Please he would beg to leave the room if he knew what was truly going on in there.” It was screaming and crying and a bit of kissing. The worst nightmare a boyfriend could imagine.

“I know.” she laughs at his comment. “How about you? You have a girlfriend or something?”

“No.” He wasn’t technically lying but… he also kind of was. Eva wasn’t his girlfriend -just a fuck buddy. “Haven’t dated anyone after you.” She smiles at him. Truly the wine was kicking into her but she wasn’t drunk, she just had the confidence she needed.

“I miss you.” she murmurs as she lays her head on the couch staring at him. His lips still looked as soft as ever. He had a bit of facial hair but it honestly turned her on a bit more. She hasn’t had sex since 9 months ago. It wasn’t that Robbie and she didn’t try to do that stuff. They simply just weren’t in that stage of their relationship yet especially, when he was getting it somewhere else.

“I miss you too.” He bites his lip. He never expected Y/N to be this outgoing. He expected they would have a chat, become friends again and leave it there.

She leans in to kiss him as her hands rest on his cheek. She wasn’t going to lie. Kissing him back in September gave her butterflies the same way as it is right now. He ushers her to straddle him as his hands hold onto her waist. She slowly rubs herself on him as he moans, kissing down her neck.

“Baby, I missed this.” He whispers as he pulls himself away from her to only find her lips again. He kissed her with all the passion burning in him. She was moaning, fighting for dominance as their tongues fought back and forth but Harry knew just want to do when she started acting this way. He took his right hand and gripped on her chin to open her mouth a bit wider so he can kiss her more. Her hands rested on his shoulder as she continued to rub herself on him.

“Still a needy girl. Aren’t you love?”

“I just really missed you.”

His hands hold onto the back of her thighs as he carries her off the couch and into her bedroom. Her sheets were different but overall, it still looked the same and that made Harry very happy.

“Why are you smiling?” She takes her mouth off his neck to see him looking at her room.

“I just missed this place.” He throws her on the bed as he pulls off her shorts with her panties. She moves a bit as he takes off his shirt. She almost gasped as she watches his arms flex to pull the tee off of him. She missed his tattoos and his soft chest. The same body she would cuddle as she fell asleep after studying for a fat exam. “Fuck, you look so good.” He licks his lip as he urgently unzips his jeans. He frustratingly pulls at the ends of his pants while balancing himself. Why did he wear jeans today????

Y/N watches him as she takes off her shirt and starts playing with her breast. “You’re taking a bit long there? Don’t you think?” He looks at her with his mouth open in shock.

“Fuck it.” He pulls one last time to get his pants off and fortunately it was a success. He walks on his knees as he approaches her kissing her one more time before dipping his tongue in the center of her chest. His hands playing with her nipples as he slips his tongue lower and lower until they reach her needy core.

“Harry.” She bites her lip as she thrusts her hips forward. He smirks as his lips attach themselves on her thighs, sucking on it and biting on each side. He wanted to leave a mark on her. He needed to.

“Fuck!” She moans as her fingers rest in his hair.

“Tug on it, baby. Let me know you miss me.” He licks her centre greedily as he murmurs against her. He’s trying his best not to rub himself on her sheets but he missed her too much. Her centre was wet… too wet. His fingers were slipping in too easily as he fucked her like that. It almost was too much for her to handle as she sat up and pulled away. “Are you okay?” He licks his fingers and holds on to her thighs. Was she starting to regret this? He needs her back. He wants her back. Why can’t she want the same thing?

“Lay down.” She pants as she moves over so he can lay on the pillows. He rests himself on his elbows as he watches her take him in her mouth.

“Aw baby. Fuck I miss your mouth. You take me so well.” He watches her mouth wet his dick as his chest heaves up and down. His mind was clouded with her. Her only. He forgot everything else in the world as if he wasn’t abusing alcohol earlier this year.

She gags on him as her hands play with his balls. He begins to thrust his hips forward before stopping almost immediately. “Can I fuck your mouth baby.” He groans as she looks at him innocently before nodding. His hand holds her hair into a makeshift ponytail as he thrusts his hips forward and harder. The sound of her choking makes him harder.

“Good girl.” He pulls off her and carries her to where he was laying beforehand. “Let me go get a condom.” He was about to get off the bed when Y/N holds onto his wrist.

“I’m on birth control and if- you haven’t been with anyone for a while maybe we can…” His mouth waters as he leans down to kiss her.

“I’ve been with only one other person and I’ve always used protection.” She couldn’t help but pout at him. Was he seeing someone else at the moment? What were they doing? She began to sit up as Harry shook his head.

“No no, please. I’m not dating her or anything. I’ve only been having sex with her. I love you, please. I need you.”

“Can you not talk about her?” Y/N snaps as she drops her head on the pillow. He leans down to kiss her on the lips before moving his lips to her neck.

“We’ll talk about her later but I’m telling you now -I want you so badly. I’ve been missing for a whole year now and I’ll drop everything for you.”

She closes her eyes as he bites on her earlobe. “Who said anything about me fucking her good? I have never eaten her out. Never left my marks on her. I never pulled her hair and choked her until she cried out of pleasure. Baby, that’s all for you and I’ll make sure after tonight, I’ll have you back in my arms.” He sucks on her nipples as he positions himself and thrusts in her. He takes a deep breath as she continues to close her eyes and scratch his back. He could feel her heart beating fast as he thrusts a bit harder.

“You okay bub?” He kisses her neck as she nods.

“You’re so big and I can fucking feel you in my stomach.” She laughs as she accidentally clenches her walls on him.

“Uh, babe.” He bites her shoulder.

“Sorry, it’s been a while.” He smirks and licks a stripe of her neck.

“Alright, whatever you say. You’re still as tight as I remember.” He smirks at her. “Pussy so good I was heartbroken when you left me.” Y/N rolls her eyes as he continues to thrust into her making her begin to moan louder.

The night carried on as he fucked her and how she fucked him. They couldn’t get enough of each other. They were sure to leave a dent on her wall due to her bed frame bumping into the wall every so often.

But as much as they laid in each other’s arms, they still had an outstanding problem of what they were now. and it wasn’t long until that problem said peek a boo once again.

Happy. Happy Harry was. It’ was just about Christmas and he had a gift in his hand as he walked the stairs towards Y/N’s apartment. Lately, he’s been spending time with her. It was as if those 8 months no longer meant a thing to him. H made sure to visit Y/N during work, drop her off and pick her up. He made sure to cuddle her to sleep and most importantly he called Eva the day after he and Y/N reconnected. He made sure to make things clear-that he no longer wanted to play games with her and that they were over.

Although it made Y/N a bit jealous he was sleeping with a pretty girl when they broke up, Harry made sure to fuck the jealously right out of her so the only thing she could do now was to roll her eyes. She wasn’t mad at him just a bit insecure but Harry reassured her, he only began a fling with Eva in the beginning of November. It was never serious.

“Merry Christmas.” He smiles gleefully as he flashes the small Cartier gift bag to her.

“Harry, that better not be for me.” Her eyes were in shock. He shakes his head and wraps his arm around her waist as he kisses her.

“I love you.”

“I love you too but you shouldn’t give me that.” After meeting Harry’s family and finally started seeing him again, she was scared his family would still think of her as a gold digger. She didn’t want to talk about it with Harry. She was really hurt when she heard that.

“I bought it for you.” He locks the door and takes her wrist as they sit on her couch once again. Y/N had no family members and she was planning on spending Christmas with Glenne and Jeff or maybe Jenna but now Harry is back. Harry had nowhere to go either since he’s been avoiding his family for the past year. Now they decided to just spend Christmas together and catch up.

“Here.” He gives her the bag as she opens it. It was their signature love bracelet with diamonds on each side. Y/N began to cry as she looked at the bracelet.

“Harry…”

“I want you to have it.” He takes the bracelet and puts it on her. “You look so pretty.” He smiles cheekily at her as she wipes her tears away.

“We were supposed to give our gifts later but you’re too excited.” She sits up and picks up a rectangular box underneath the tree. “Here’s yours.”

He kisses her and takes the gift in his hands. As he opens the gift wrapping paper, there were a bunch of papers folded and underneath was a brand new journal that looked exactly like the one resting on his piano.

“Read those letters on your own time!” Y/N’s cheeks turn red. “I bought you a new journal after you desperately ripped papers out of your old one.” She laughs as she plays with her nails. “You need one of those and I thought maybe a new one for the new year. For new beginnings.”

“I love you!” He tucks the notes in his new journal as he leans forward to kiss her a bit more longer. “So much baby, so much. you know I’m not letting you go anymore right?” Y/N smiles as he kisses her nose and her cheeks.

“I love you more H. Now, I have one more request and I was hoping you would allow it to happen.”

“What is it bub?” She grabs his phone beside him and takes it in her hands.

“I was wondering if we could call your family and greet them?” His heart softens as he looks at her. He nods at her without another word as she searches for Anne’s name. The ringing was the only thing heard until Anne’s voice picked up.

“Oh my God, my baby boy!”

and at that moment as Harry watched Y/N smile as he spoke to his mother, he knew he found the one. Y/N wasn’t mad anymore about what happened in London. She wished that trip ended another way but she found the goodness in her heart to let Gemma and Anne’s comments go. She hated the fact that Harry stopped talking to them. She had no family anymore and she doesn’t want Harry to feel that way anymore.

As the call ended, Harry’s eyes were wet as he looked at his phone. He haven’t heard from his mum this past year. And Anne made it clear that she wants to visit them two and make peace with Y/N. Harry became in asshole when he broke up with Camille but for some reason, when he broke up with Y/N, he fell apart. The only thing that Harry was thinking about now was what Anne said to him in the call.

Are you two dating again? You better ask her or she might slip through your fingertips again. She’s a beautiful girl, Harry. I’m sorry about what Gemma and I said. Bless her soul that she encouraged you to call me. I missed you baby, you’ll always be my son.

Harry’s heart was beating fast. This was the problem. He knew he could only spend a few weeks with before this question came up. He was scared to ask her. What happens if they break up again? What happens if she says no?

“What’s wrong H?” She brushes his hair out of his face. Throughout the 10 minute phone call, she sat there listening to them catch up. Harry offered the phone to her but she wanted the mother and child to talk.

“I’m scared uh you might say no but I have a question.” He puts his phone down and takes her hand. “I was wondering if you would be my girlfriend again. I promise you I’ll treat the best I can. I want to make you happy. I want to travel the world with you and just love you.” He squeezes her palm.

“Alright.” She nods before flashing a sweet smile. “I’m your girlfriend again.” Harry’s eyes sparkle as he kisses her and picks her up. He swings her in his arms before carrying her back into her bedroom.

The red string of fate connects two destined lovers together. Regardless of time, place or circumstances. This magical thread may stretch or tangle but it will never break.

Y/N was his soul mate because she made him the happiest he could ever be and the saddest too. Despite their relationship starting out once again… this time she was trying and they were both more serious about fighting for each other- they were more confident in their love. No one can break them apart this time… after all, it was a new year.

#harrystyles #harry styles fanfiction #Harry Syles #Harry Styles #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #this sucks #blurbs #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harry styles stories #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #Famous!harry #one direction #fine line

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dontworrysunflower · 3 years

Note

A fake insta with a filipina celeb pls??

i’m pretty sure christina is filipina right??

requests are closed!!

pls you guys no more requests you’re stressing me out. for ig/imagines

Liked by harrystyles, yourbff and 1,021,113 others

yourinstagram yes it does 😏

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y/nfan1 GIRL-

harrystyles Raspberries?

y/nfan2 she’s so cute look at her smile 🥲

y/nfan3 the things i would do just to be in her presence

y/nfan4 harry gets to be with her 24/7? he’s so lucky

Liked by yourinstagram, annetwist and 5,296,949 others

harrystyles Love On Tour. San Antonio, TX

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yourinstagram wait you’re kinda pretty 🤭

harryfan1 there’s no way he’s real

harryfan2 he’s human?

harryfan3 his eyes are so green 😖

y/nfan1 he’s actually the closest thing to perfect

haryfan4 my favorite look so far

yourinstagram give us them titties harold

Liked by harrystyles, yourbff and 1,195,635

yourinstagram his handprint on my ass cheek

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y/nfan1 forget the fucking sunset yall she stole the show

harrystyles She fell immediately after this she can’t balance.

↳ yourinstagram HEY

harryfan1 not harold exposing his gf

y/nfan2 don’t even need to see her face

Liked by yourinstagram, florencepugh and 8,242,714 others

harrystyles 23.9.22

View all 21,192 comments

harryfan1 will never be ready for this

harryfan2 a one second clip has changed my life

y/nfan1 i’m not ashamed to admit i can’t stop watching

yourinstagram at least we have a year to mentally prepare for this

harryfan3 i’m actually shaking

harryfan4 y’all saw that too right? 👀

•••

taglist:

@samaraaaaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @lover-of-bucky @tom-hollands-wife @acciosiriusblack @aslugforharry @sunkissedchxrry @niallsbaeorwhateva

(lmk if you want to be added or taken off taglist)

#reblogs are appreciated #harry styles #harry edward styles #harry syles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fake social media #harry styles fake instagram #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles au #harry styles concepts #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagines #my writing

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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years

Text

VALERIE - Part III. (Harry Styles)

hello dears! i wanted to have a few words before this part. i would like to kindly ask you to give the chapter a like and/or a reblog if you enjoyed it, or reply on the post or even just send me a feedback through asks! these are the only forms of feedback writers have on here and it’s really hard to maintain your motivation to keep posting when you see your work being ignored. getting up the numbers and spreading our work is your way to let us know that you read it and like it, so please be so kind to use these tools! writers post their work for absolutely free for you to enjoy, pls take the time to get back to them! it means so so soooo much to them, im telling you! even just one comment can make the day of the creator!

word count: 3.9k

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

A few tequila shots and the sound of some stranger’s horrible attempt at karaoke is exactly what you need when you get off work that Friday evening. Luckily, Steven invited you along with a few of his friends to have a drink just a few days ago and you gladly said yes. You and Steven have always gotten along so well and it made Rosa happy to see two so important people in her life be friends, so it wasn’t weird that Rosa was staying home with Valerie, you knew quite a few of Steven’s friends and they all seemed like cool people.

He told you beforehand that Harry would tag along as well so you could brace yourself to try this whole “let’s be nice to each other for the sake of Val” thing you and Rosa talked about earlier. She said she has mentioned it to him as well and he seemed to be open to the idea. You could only hope he didn’t just try to get her off his business and truly means to change.

Arriving to the bar you easily spot your little group of people and sliding out of the booth Steven greets you with a hug.

“So glad you are here!” he smiles at you and everyone slides further into the booth so you can sit at the end, saying your hello to everyone around the table.

The waitress comes up just a few minutes later and you order a tequila along with a beer.

“You are letting loose tonight?” Andy, a colleague of Steve asks with a smirk upon hearing your order.

“I deserve it and it’s just the start!” you tell him making everyone laugh.

Your shot glass is emptied out and you’ve stared on your beer by the time Harry arrives to the bar.

“Hello everyone,” he waves around and asks for a free chair from another table and pulling it to the end he is basically sitting next to you. “I see you’ve started the party, Y/N,” he chuckles eyeing the shot glass and you just shrug your shoulder with a smug grin.

He is wearing a black shirt that’s unbuttoned at the top, letting you get a glimpse of his tattooed chest and necklaces. You don’t admit it to yourself but your eyes linger on his chest a tad bit longer than you intended.

Harry orders a beer for himself that arrives in just a few minutes and you notice how the waitress was basically was pushing her chest out while talking to him.

“Is there anything I can get for you?” she asks him with a charm smile, her red lips stretched almost up to her ears.

For your biggest surprise Harry looks at you upon her question.

“Do you want to have a shot with me as well?”

The girl looks at you with a dirty look that screams jealous and for a moment you don’t even know what to answer.

“Um, yeah, sure,” you nod.

“Then two tequilas, please,” he tells the waitress before she walks away, glancing back at him one last time, but he pays no attention to her, clearly. “Hope you take it better than champagne,” he teases you, but this time it feels more like a simple joke rather than an attempt to piss you off.

“We’ll see,” you tell him with an innocent smile. The change in him is obvious, it seems like he did take Rosa’s advice and a new chapter is about to start where the two of you are not planning the murder of each other anymore every time you meet.

You take the shot with Harry easily, the alcohol burning down your throat and as any responsible, mature adult would do it, you wash it down with some beer. The perfect recipe for a killer headache in the morning. Your little group is having quite the fun, would have been a shame to miss this evening with them.

It seems like Harry is making a real attempt at being nice to you, he is your partner every time your glass empties out and you head to the bar to get another one.

“Look,” he tells you pulling his phone out of his back pocket and a picture of Val appears where she is wearing a onesie that has pumpkins all over it, it’s got to be the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Oh my God!” you gasp tapping your hand to your chest. “She is literally the cutest.”

“I know, I got her the onesie, it’s so soft,” he tells you happily before taking one last look at the photo and putting his phone back away.

“Hey, what happened to those matching stuff you called me back then?” you think back to the phone call the two of you had not so long ago.

“Oh, didn’t buy it.”

“Why?”

“They didn’t have your size.”

“You didn’t buy the set because of my size? You could have gotten me just a larger one or something.”

“Yeah, but I wanted it to fit perfectly. Doesn’t matter, I’ll find another one.”

Harry turns to Andy who is telling a crazy story of the last time he went hiking and your tipsy eyes linger on him for a little. You were definitely not expecting him to not buy the set just because they didn’t have your size, but it’s nice that he was thinking of you and wanted you to have it just as perfect as him.

Harry catches your eyes and you don’t turn away. Maybe it’s the alcohol or the magic of this new, nice era of Harry Styles, but you let your gazes lace together as he smirks at you.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing,” you tell him absentmindedly and turn to Andy to hear the ending of the story.

The evening is a blast and you are having an amazing time. It’s nice that you don’t have to worry about Harry saying something awkward about you, the two of you are getting along pretty well.

You even sing a song together at the karaoke machine, though you don’t see yourself, you know the two of you look ridiculous, singing Avril Lavigne’s What the Hell from the top of your lungs, both of you probably more drunk than it would be decent from mature adults. But you couldn’t care less.

It’s way past midnight when you decide to leave and Harry tags along with you saying that he is taking the same train.

“Shut up, I did not!” he narrows his eyes at you as the two of you sit in the deserted carriage, only two more passengers are there but they don’t even care about your existence.

“I’m telling you! You were shaking your ass when you sang that line! Almost twerking!” you laugh letting out a snort as Harry is trying his best to hold his smile back while defending himself. “I wish I had it on camera!”

“But you didn’t so it didn’t happen,” he tells you pointing his finger at you in a warningly manner, but you just start laughing even more.

“You wish, Styles,” you huff and he just bumps his shoulder against yours.

You pull out your phone to check the time and see that Marcus has texted you a couple of hours before, asking if you are free next weekend. Harry tries his best not to peek at your screen, but he just can’t stop himself. Seeing the name he can’t stop himself from letting an annoyed growl out.

“You’re still in touch with the guy from the blind date?” he nosily asks and you lock the phone, thinking it’s best if you reply in the morning when you’ll be able to type your words out correctly. Sliding it back into your bag you turn to face Harry.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“I just genuinely don’t know why you are even trying.”

“Excuse me?” you ask with a grimace. “Why wouldn’t I try to meet guys?”

“I didn’t mean it like that. You told me all about how you need to feel that special connection with someone to date them. I bet my life that you did not feel that with this dude.”

“What do you know about what I feel?” you snap at him, feeling your anger building up quickly.

“Because… I know you,” is all he says but you can only laugh at his words.

“You know shit about me, Harry.”

“That’s not true,” he shakes his head protesting.

“Stop pretending like you know me just because I told you stuff when I was drunk and then slept with you. Why can’t you fucking forget about it all?”

Maybe you shouldn’t have been naïve and think that he could change in such a short time. It seems like he is still the annoying prick he has always been.

“Because it happened, Y/N! Whether you acknowledge it or not, it happened, and if I’m being honest, you talked a whole fucking lot that evening so excuse me if I think that I know you.”

He is clearly getting irked too, at least that’s what makes the two of you. The urge to hit him is slowly returning into your limbs and you have to keep your fists in your lap.

“Oh, I’m sorry I’m not perfect when I’m drunk and it was an inconvenience to you to have to deal with me!”

Looking up you see that the train is nearing your stop so you slide out of your seat as you look down at Harry.

“Why the fuck did you even bother to pick me up then? I’m sure you could have gotten with any of the bridesmaids. Was a shame you chose to ruin my life with that night,” you spat at him as the train stops and the doors slide open. It’s clear Harry has a lot to say, but you just simply flip him off and get out of the carriage, heading to the exit with long strides, fuming and raging you even thought for just a moment Harry has changed.

***

Just like the majority of the population, you consider Monday to be one of your biggest enemies, especially when you have spent the whole weekend trying to sleep your hangover off. You really shouldn’t have went overboard with the shots, but it’s always easier said than done. You don’t try to make yourself believe it won’t happen again, because it will surely do. Lately it has occurred to you that you might have a slight problem with knowing your limits when it comes to alcohol. It’s not that you are an addict and seek every possibility to chug down something in secret. It’s more about knowing when to stop when you are at it. It’s so hard to judge when you should draw the line and not have another one when you are having such a good time! You’ve heard endless sermons from your mother when you were younger and ended up coming home a little more hammered than what fitted her taste. She wasn’t completely against drinking, she believes it’s a nice way to ease your nerves and has been having drinks in the evenings herself, but she has a strong opinion about going overboard, something you’ve been struggling with.

“Guys find it disgusting, Y/N. Know your limits or no guy will stay with you if you can’t stop yourself from knocking yourself out.”

You rolled your eyes at her then and you roll your eyes at her now. As if a man has a word in what you do!

Sitting at your desk you find yourself checking the time every ten minutes, longing for your lunch break already, but time seems to be passing extremely slowly on this miserable day. You basically jolt up from your chair when the clock strikes 12 and head out of the building to find a place to eat. You were certainly not in the mood to do any mealprep for the week ahead so now you are stuck with having to eat out.

There’s a sandwich bar down the street and you refuse to go any farther just to have to walk back after lunch. Walking in you are happy to see that it’s not jam-packed yet, but knowing well how it goes in lunch time, the seats will surely be taken in no time. Walking up to the counter you order a turkey sandwich with a lemonade and take a seat at one of the smaller tables in the back, putting your bag to the empty chair and leaving your phone on the table next to your plate you start scrolling while eating.

Just as you expected, people start to flow in pretty soon and all the empty seats get taken. You’ve just scrolled past some funny cat video when you glance up and almost choke on your food.

At the counter, back facing you, but you already know his figure enough, stands Harry Styles, hands stuffed into his pockets as he is checking out the sandwiches behind the glass.

“Unbelievable,” you growl to yourself as you try to turn so you are hidden somehow behind the plant that’s besides you. Peeking from behind its leaves you try to keep an eye on him without being suspicious.

Harry pays for his food and flashes a smile at the cashier before turning around to find a place. Unfortunately, there are no free tables left, only seats here and there, one at your table as well.

At first you plan on pretending you don’t see him and pay he won’t recognize you either. After your encounter on the train last Friday you are not quite in the mood to have lunch with him. But then you see the disappointed look on his face as he searches for a free spot and your conscience can’t take it any longer.

Turning to face him you bring yourself out from behind the plant and wave in his direction. His eyes catch your hand in the air and a surprised look flashes across his face but heads in your way anyway.

“Hey, I didn’t even see you there,” he chuckles taking the seat that you just emptied from your bag, putting it to the floor next to you.

“Yeah, probably the plant,” you say awkwardly and he just nods placing his plate to the table.

“Do you come here often?” he asks upon starting his ham and cheese sandwich.

“No, though my office is near. I usually bring food.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Do you?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “I was just nearby and thought I would stop by for lunch.”

There’s a long pause when neither of you say a word, just eat in silence though that conversation from Friday hangs in the air heavily.

Surprisingly Harry is the first one to break this silence.

“I… wanted to call this weekend to apologize.”

“Really?” It’s not that you didn’t want an apology, you were just definitely not expecting one from him.

“Yeah. I know I have overstepped quite some boundaries lately and… I’m sorry for that. I promised Rosa I would try to work on our…”

“Friendship?” you ask with a small smile. There’s not really a word for what the two of you really have.

“Yeah,” he chuckles nodding. “Look, I was drunk too, I don’t know what’s gotten into me. Sorry for sticking my nose into your business. You’re right, I don’t know you well enough to have an opinion on these stuff.”

You nod shortly, a sense of relief taking over your body. It’s nice to finally have your truth confirmed by him and it’s kind of ridiculous it took the two of you so long to actually have a nice, mature conversation.

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“And I know I’ve been the one to tease you and pick on you most of the time, but I promise I’ll try to work on shutting my mouth from now on.”

You laugh leaning back in your seat, because this is surely way more than what you were expecting from him, but it’s still funny to hear it from his mouth. Never thought this day would ever come.

“I promise I’ll hold my tongue too. I want Rosa to stop worrying about us. She clearly cares about us so I wouldn’t want to be the reason why she stresses, she has enough on her plate.”

Harry nods in agreement and with that, the topic is considered closed. You have officially called it truth with the villain of your life, Harry Styles.

***

Valerie is watching the ducks in awe, as if they were the most beautiful creatures for her on this whole wide world. Her eyes follow them glide across the shimmering surface of the pond and pulling out your phone you take a quick photo of her before turning back to Rose next to you on the bench.

It’s a warm Sunday afternoon nearing the end of October, Rosa called you in the morning if you wanted to tag along for their afternoon walk and you happily took the chance to spend some more time with your sister and your favorite little niece.

“It’s so nice to get out of the house and go farther than just the supermarket,” she sighs, closing her eyes as she enjoys the warm sunshine caressing her face. You can tell she’s been losing sleep, Val just started teething and Rosa told you how fussy she’s been during the nights.

“The joys of parenthood,” you chuckle and she just huffs.

“Harry was over the other afternoon, dropped something off for Steven.”

“Uhuh.”

“He mentioned you.”

“Really?” you ask looking ahead of you, eyes glued to one particular duck as it nears the edge of the pond, then duckling out to the grass it sits comfortably in the sunshine.

“Yeah, he said you two had lunch together the other week.”

“Well, it’s not like it was planned, we just happened to be at the same place,” you correct her.

“Either way I’m happy you two are getting along.”

“It’s relaxing,” you admit with a soft chuckle. This worrying feeling you’ve been constantly feeling when someone brought Harry’s name up is finally gone from your chest. It’s nice to know you won’t have to avoid him at every event you run into him.

“So what do you have planned for the anniversary?” you ask her. It’s crazy it’s been three years since Rosa and Steven got married, which also means that it took exactly three years for you and Harry to put the past behind you.

“Uh, nothing?” she huffs with a grimace. “There’s not much you can do with a teething baby, you know? Will probably just have dinner together and if we don’t fall asleep immediately we can watch a movie.”

“Val is the only reason why you are staying home?”

“I mean, mostly, yeah.”

“I can look after her for a night, if you want,” you offer right away. It’s the least you can do for her.

“Nah, I can’t ask you that. I know how much you work and she wakes up at least two times during the night even on her best days. You need to rest too.”

“I have way more time to rest than you. You deserve a night off from your motherly duties.”

“Are you sure?” she asks, looking for any sign on your face that tells her you are not being serious.

“Absolutely. Just… give me a list of things I need to know and do and we’ll be fine,” you nod eagerly as you turn to look at Val. “Right, Princess? We’ll have a sleepover!”

Val just glances at you curiously, furrowing her tiny eyebrows before her attention is diverted by a falling leaf.

“She’s excited,” you tell Rosa and she just chuckles.

“Would you really do this for us?”

“Of course! It’s just one night, I can do one night.”

“You are literally an angel she sighs and hooking an arm around your shoulders she pulls you to her lovingly. This is what sisters are for.

***

Your body is basically buried under your favorite thick blanket, sunk into the plush couch as you watch a rerun from How I Met Your Mother, a warm tea on the coffee table. You’ve had a long day and you intended to go to bed early, but figured six is a little too early, so you got stuck with whatever the TV had to offer you, however you know you’ll be in bed by eight for sure.

Munching on some dried apple chips you let out a tired sigh when you see that you’ve reached the end of the bag. Tossing it to the floor you slide down lower on the couch when your phone buzzes somewhere under your butt. It takes you some time to actually find it and get a hold of it, but you’re rather surprised when you see you just got a text from Harry.

To be exact, he just sent you a photo. Opening the thread you wait for the attachment to load and when it does, you snort out loud.

It’s a photo of him with a ridiculously small, pink hat that’s probably for Valerie, but seeing it on his head as he is grinning widely into the camera you can’t help but laugh.

“Looking great, new fit?” you write him back and the little bubbles start moving almost immediately.

“Thought it was time for a change in my image. You like it?”

“Pink suits you well.”

“Thanks, I’ve been told that.”

You smile at the screen as another message pops up.

“I’ve been going a little overboard with the shopping for Val…”

“Never feel ashamed for that!”

“But Rosa made me promise the Gucci onesie was the last thing I bought for her.”

“You bought her a Gucci onesie??!?!! Harry, she is not even one, she will shit into that Gucci..”

“But it looked so cute! I had to buy it!”

“You need therapy, Harry.”

“Isn’t that what friends are for?”

You have a witty comeback to make about how he has zero friends, but you don’t want to ruin the light mood with even the slightest possibility of sending him an insult he might take too seriously.

“You’re right!”

“Okay, now it’s your turn to send me a silly photo.”

“What?!”

“Come on, I sent you one, now you have to send one to me too!”

“Says who?”

“Me. Come on, do it!”

He is so childish, you think to yourself as you open your gallery and try to find something that’s silly but not too embarrassing either. You find a picture back from April when you were having a grimace contest with your cousin’s kids and someone snapped a picture of you with puffy cheeks and crossed eyes. You hesitate for a moment but then send it to him anyway.

Waiting for his answer you turn your attention back to the TV until your phone buzzes in your hands again.

“I said send me a pic of you, not a hamster!”

You gasp at the mean but also funny reply. He surely didn’t shy out from insulting you, unlike you did.

“Oh, fuck you, Harry!”

You almost instantly regret sending that to him, because you know what his answer is to that every time it leaves your mouth. So you are already bracing yourself to receive that “you already have” text… But it never arrives.

“Jk, you look cute. But don’t cross your eyes too much, would be a shame if they stayed like that.”

“And why is that?” you find yourself typing back.

“Don’t let those pretty eyes go to waste.”

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sunflowerryvol6 · 4 years

Text

Pigments

Warnings : angst, mentions of blood

WC : 2k

Hey! so I've got all these angsty prompts anywho, hope you like this. This the first time I've had an OC, so let me know if you like that? This came together, quite quickly, so the edit might be a little choppy. Feedback and ideas are always welcome!

Masterlist

happy reading!

"Lovie! You can't be knocking things in your wake, gotta be a little more careful y'know?" He said.

Nylah froze. "I'm sorry, H. I guessed I misjudged the distance?" she nervously giggled.

"S'okay, you good? You don't sound all too convinced about that?"

"Nope. All good, I guess it was a little foggy, nothing too serious."

"Okay, if you say so." That response didn't convince him, though. Ever since the patio incident, he'd been keeping a close eye on you. He had a feeling she'd been hiding something. But he wasn't sure enough to call her out on it. He was waiting to see if she'd come to him first. Even if she was the stubborn one between the two, he would let it go for today, and no one wants to argue on the weekend, right?

He wishes he'd had that argument and taken one for the team because maybe then he could have avoided this phone call altogether. Or that's what he tells himself.

Nylah had taken a significant fall at work, slipped down the stairs and hurt her head, and they said she was bleeding. That's all he heard before he made a mad dash to his car to get to his fiance. His heart was racing; he couldn't piece any information together. He remembered to make a quick call to his mother; asked her to call Nylah's mum and meet him at the hospital. As far as any information went, Nylah was still unconscious, so that they wouldn't allow him in with her.

"Well, I'm her husband. You've got to let me stay with her. What if she wakes up and there's no one beside her? Please, let me go see her."

"I'm so sorry sir; She's getting her stitches now. You can wait outside the procedure room, and they'll let you in as soon as it's completed." the nurse says.

Amid this argument, Anne comes rushing through. "What's going on? have you been in to see her yet? have they given you any update?"

"No. we're waiting on them to finish stitching her up. After that the doctor will come and speak with us, I suppose. I don't know why I didn't pay more attention, maybe she was sick and didn't tell me? I mean, I should have noticed, right?" Harry was finding it hard to not tear up with anxiety.

"Harry, what's happened has happened. You just need to make sure she's okay now", and on that cue, the doctor walked in to greet them.

"Are you with Ms Jones?" The doctor asks

"Yeah, I'm her husband. Is she okay? How bad was the fall?"

"It's not too bad, but my concern is more to how she fell. Do you know if your wife has a history of fainting spells? or balance issues? could be one of the reasons she could have taken the tumble."

"None that I'm aware of. Nylah does have low blood sugar, but she is good at keeping that in check and, as far as I recall, she hasn't fainted from a low sugar spell in a few months. But why is that a concern? I mean, it could have just been that she tripped, right?"

"We're just trying cover our bases, Mr.-" He looks at Harry as if to ask your name

"Styles." He responds.

"Okay, well, Mr Styles, you may go keep your wife company now. The nurses will let us know when's she awake, and we can have a chat then."

"Thank you." and He turns to what he assumes Nylah's room is and walks in to see her still unconscious.

"Hey kid, I'm so happy to see you; gave us a proper scare. I'm going to be right here beside you when you wake up." He coos. Harry sits down beside her bed and reaches for her hand. He's too fidgety from anxiety to stop his knees from bobbing up and down. Still thinking about what the doctor said. Could it not have been a trip up? Could she have fainted, and no one was there to help her break the fall?

She was doing so well with keeping her sugar levels in check, and maybe she slipped up? All these questions were running amuck in his mind, and he couldn't make sense of it.

In his anxiety spiral, he had utterly missed that Nylah was coming to it. She was slowly peeking through her lids as if the lights were too much for her. Harry quickly stands up. "Baby! Are you okay? Does your head hurt? I'm going to call the nurse for you, okay?"

"Woah, slow down, H, I'm okay. Can you please ask them to dim the lights? It's too much for my head right now." She winces.

"Yes, let me call the nurse for you."

"hey! Did you press the call button? Good to see you're awake, Ms Jones."

"Yeah, she just about woke up. Could we please dim down the lights in here a bit? She's finding it a little difficult to open her eyes because of it."

"Okay, sure, let me inform the doctor, and I'll see about the lights."

"Thank you."

"So, what happened? Did you feel lightheaded? missed lunch or something?"

"Okay, so I mean, my vision has been getting kinda blurry of late? I don't know what that's about like I can't see things that might be in my surrounding that well." Harry looked like he wanted to cut her off but let her continue.

"Before you say anything, I didn't want to worry you, and I wasn't worried either until today. I thought I would take the stairs today, and they were white? And I couldn't place my feet. Because I couldn't tell them apart" She was tearing up.

"Hey, it's okay, we'll figure it out, okay? It's probably nothing. Don't worry about it. You're fine, and that's more than enough for now." Harry soothed her. But he really didn't know if it was going to be okay.

When the doctor came, they relayed the same information to him. he suggested getting some tests done to check her diabetes and vision. She's only 25, so it's highly unlikely it's anything major, or at least that's what they thought.

---

Everything will be okay, is what Nyah kept telling herself, but who was she kidding? She had been hiding the blurriness in her vision for quite some time now. Why didn't she want to get it checked and find out what's wrong with her? She can't tell you for the life of her.

On the other hand, Harry had always known, but he thought she would address it sooner or later. He'd noticed she'd totally missed the butter sitting right in front of them at breakfast, and he had to get it for her. She would often take a second to adjust to light early in the morning.

You can't really do anything if you're missing big and obvious things sitting right in front of you, right? But he was wrong, Nylah was stubborn as hell, and she wasn't going to admit herself that she needed help, so it was up to him to figure it out and advocate for her. Had he done this sooner, they wouldn't be in a position like this, right?

---

The white walls of this hospital felt like it was caving in on Nylah. She didn't want to be here, neither did she want to get tested, and she didn't know anything point. This nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach just wouldn't go away. Harry was trying to be as supportive but to be honest, he was scared shitless too, neither of them of any help to each other. So they sat, quietly taking the eerie atmosphere of the hospital, holding each other's hands, hoping that warmth would enough to get through this cold tunnel of uncertainty.

After a whole week of a myriad of tests, they were sitting in front of their eye surgeon, who just gave them the news. They call it retinitis pigmentosa, and there isn't a concrete treatment that's shown to work yet.

That's all she heard before Nylah stormed out of the office.

She couldn't sit and hear another word. When the doctor told her about how her children, children who weren't even born yet, would be carriers or sufferers of the same illness. How could she succumb to this fate?

Harry and she were to still get married. They were going to travel the world. They'd been saving up for it, right? And babies? Oh, her babies with Harry, would that even be possible right now? Would he even want to continue this engagement?

She was sitting on the stairs outside the hospital. Crying into her hands, she didn't know what the hell to do anymore. So she would do what she thought was the best for her and Harry.

Harry came running after her. "My! what's wrong? Please come back? The doctor wasn't even finished giving us options on what we could do about this. Petal, you've got to hear him out. Please. " He looks like he's about to cry too, wouldn't you? If you found out the love of your life wasn't going to be able to see anymore? That she would miss arguably the best years of your lives together? He couldn't break down in front of her, though. So he would be the calm, reassuring voice of reason for her right now. Breaking down is for later when she is resting.

Nylah wouldn't budge, so eventually, they drove back home. She jumped out of the car before he could even be done parking. She hadn't said a word throughout the ride, and he didn't know what was on her mind. So he parked the car and walked in.

He slowly approached their room, only to find her packing all her belongings. He was a little puzzled, "Ny, darling? What are you doing? why are you packing?"

She turns around to look at him. That's when he notices her red-rimmed eyes, pooling with tears. She walks over to the dresser, takes off her ring and places it on the table. It was as if she was saying; This is it, you know?

He finally placed what was going on. "Oh no. No. You're not doing that, this is stupid, you're ending our engagement over this? Absolutely not. Please, baby, you've calm down. There's a long way to go still, and we don't even know all our options yet."

"I am going blind, Harry. I won't be able to see your face when I kiss you anymore. I won't give you children that might not be addled with the same disease as me. Hear yourself when you make this commitment, Harry." and go. I'm to packing her stuff. She was furiously wiping tears away. How were you supposed to keep a straight face when the love of your life is not going to be a part of your life anymore.

"I do, I'm in it for the long haul, aren't I? We'll break our savings and go to all the places you want to go to. We'll make audio vlogs, we'll document everything that we encounter, for you to remember. I'll do anything!"

Harry was panicking now. He's desperately trying to get her attention, to get her to see that he'll bring her the moon if that's what she desires. But this silence was too much for him. He could'n;t keep up with her. She was just throwing things into her bag. Finally, it felt like he snapped back into his reality, and he rushed behind her to keep those items back into her part of the closet. Because he wasn't going to let her go that easily. She'd have to fight him for it.

As he was putting things back, she was putting more stuff into her suitcase, and it was this weird limbo of aggressively shoving things here and there.

"Stop putting things back! I have to leave. I'm not going to put you through this, I'm not waiting around for you to decide when you're done with me, when it gets too tiring, No. I'm not sticking around to witness us and our love going sour. " She's screaming now.

He doesn't bother replying to her. He knows she'll ride out this tantrum.

He's crying too, heaving heavy breaths. He doesn't know if this is enough. If just letting her be angry is enough. He's just quietly putting her clothes back. That's when he hears something shatter against the wall. He frantically looks up to see their dresser lamp broken into million pieces on the floor. She goes for the jug of water next and throws it at the wall with as much strength as possible. The cup goes next.

He's screaming at her to stop, but she can't hear anything over her wailing and things breaking. She grabbed a vase from their windowsill and broke that too, it's mad fury, and she's so angry she can't breathe.

She's snapped out of her reverie when she hears him shout in pain. She looks at him and sees that he's stepped on some broken glass, but that's not what he's shouting about; he's screaming to get her attention to make her see that she's, in fact, hurt herself.

The carpet has got blood all over it, and there's broken glass everywhere. He strides across the room to reach her, only for her knees to buckle and take both of them down, she sinks on the floor with loud sobs, and he can't bring himself to stop crying either.

He rocks her gently, and whispers "We'll be alright", over and over again.

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