#i think niall is probably the best choice. and i was a niall girl he was my favorite and i don't dislike his music i have all of flicker in

[maddy-ferguson]

the girls who chose a one direction member that they continued being a fan of after they broke up (sorry, went on hiatus) are so much happier than us

[acesofspadess]

Kids Choice Awards

a/n: I know I know.... but im back! the next chapters are a build up so stay with me!

Award season was not done yet. After the Brits you had limited time to relax as you were heading out to America for the Kids Choice Awards. 

Going through airports would probably never get easier. Paps constantly shouting and the blinding flashes of light was not even the worse. It was the fact that Harry and Niall were the worst at getting through them. You, Liam, Louis, and Zayn always formed a bubble around them. Being friends with Beverly meant you were always in crowds, she was -rightfully so- the most popular girl at school.

After making it through the Paps and security you were headed onto the private jet. “You okay?” you asked the boys who were sitting staring out the window as the plane took off. “Yeah it just doesn't get easier does it?” Harry spoke into the blanket held close to his chin. “It will. I promise it won't take as much affect out of you.” he smiled as best he could at you before looking back out the window

You looked over at Zayn who was already asleep and chuckled before looking at Louis and Liam. Liam had been having a rough patch with his girlfriend and they decided a break was needed between them, you could see how much it really affected him. Louis and Elenor tho, that was something different, they were a relatively happy couple. They had known each other before you all had blown up and you knew Louis cherished that.

‘Li,” you whispered as the seatbelt sign went off. “You ‘right?” you walked over to his chair and he opened his arms for you. You went and sat in his lap as he held you. “Dani and I are thinking of calling it.” He whispered and your heart broke for him. “But i thought you were just taking a break and then getting back when tour was over?” He shrugged his shoulders in response, “told me she didnt want to wait that long.” you hugged him tighter knowing that's all he really wanted. 

“I love you Bow,” you smiled looking down at him, “i love you so much.” you kissed the top of his repeating the same words back to him as he held you tighter. It wasn't easy being a bunch of teens forced into proximity, feelings were going to arise, as they had with you harry and niall, but they same also happened with zayn, louis, and liam. It seemed they all really did have some sort of a crush on you, and you them. 

The lines were blurry, very blurry, but it just changed everyone's meaning of friendship in the band. There was a ton more flirting than any normal friendship group, and your stereotypical boundaries were always crossed. But it worked for all of you, and that's the only thing that mattered. 

You were in a separate room from the boys as Lou was getting you ready. “I don't think you understand how much I love having you here Lou.” you two laughed and continued talking not worried about what the boys were doing.

“We want to make it official with Autumn.” Niall spoke to the boys in their shared room. They all cheered loudly before Harry was shutting them down. “Hey she right there.” he pointed at the wall where you technically were. “She can't hear us.” Zayn shrugged off. “How are you gonna do it? 

“Just do it now.” 

They all snapped their heads towards the door. “You were pretty loud.” Harry and Niall came over to you with their heads down. “We wanted to make it special.” Harry sighed, throwing his head on your shoulder. “I know love.” you giggled at his pout. “I'm sorry.” you whispered looking at him and Niall. ‘Its okay.” Niall added softly. “But will you be with us officially?” 

You smiled widely looking both boys. “Idk, Louis what do you think?” Harry and Niall groaned as everyone laughed. “Don't ask them, they're gonna say no!” Harry complained and you took his face in your hands. “I'm taking the piss of course i'll be with you guys officially.”

You kissed Harry quickly and then Niall as the boys and now Lou and Paul cheered. “I love you three, but we have to go. Autumn, shoes please.” Paul laughed looking at your bare feat which should have been in heels.

So far the awards were exactly what you thought. Very kiddy. It was so cute. Hearing the cheers when you were announced for performances was so cute. 

Seeing all of these celebrities was still such a new thing for you. Taylor Swift, Ariana Grande, Andrew Garfield who the boys knew was your favourite. 

The entire show was full of the whole band laughing and dancing at all the events of the show. It was finally your turn to perform now.

“After being discovered on the U.Ks X-factor.”

“They just made music history, by being the only british group to top the american charts, with their first album. Which also topped the charts in 15 other countries.”

“They are… Niall, Zayn, Liam, Harry, Louis, and my favourite Autumn.”

“Here is One Direction.”

The stage went dark as the 6 screens sketched outlines of your body. The whole thing was like a glitch. Then, there you were as the first notes of ‘What Makes You Beautiful’ played.

All of you were dressed in black and white. You jumped around the stage as if you would in a concert and high fived some of the fans by the stage. You and Harry made sure that you made it back for your solo in the middle as the lights dropped and the spotlight was on you.

You were successful this time around and went back to jumping around on stage, punching the biggest balloon you've ever seen.

The rest of the show went smoothly and when it was done you were meeting so many different people. Michelle Obama wanted to meet you and you almost passed out. Even being from a different country she did amazing things for black women like yourself. 

The boys made sure you met Andrew Garfield which turned out to be in your favour as he had wanted to meet you too. You exchanged numbers promising to stay in touch. You met the cast of Victorious and iCarly and the cast of Hunger Games which made you nervous beyond reason.

At the end of the night at the after party you were all dancing around and saw Harry and Taylor chatting. You saw Harry look at you and waved you over. “Hi it's so nice to meet you.” your accent was a little thicker than normal based on how tired you were. “I absolutely love you in the band.” Taylor commented back and smiled widely as she did. “She is the leader, the only one keeping us together. She's really the best.” you looked up at him with teary eyes. “Stop it Haz.” you pouted as he kissed your forehead and wrapped an arm over your shoulder. 

You ended up leaving them as others wanted to see you. By the end of night your social battery was dead. You fell right into bed between Niall and Harry slowly drifting to sleep. “So happy you're ours.” Harry mumbled into your neck. “So happy.” Niall added before you let sleep over take you.

~~~~~~

tags:

@youcan-nolonger-run @ravenclawdirectioner

@luxiorchive  @superlegend216

Up All Night Masterlist

Worth The Risk Masterlist

[walkingintheheartbreaksatellite]

Could you write a little something about the reader walking in on Niall recording "Steal My Girl" in his underwear? Your choice on how they know each other. I just think it's funny as hell!

What Did I Miss?

Niall Horan x Fem!reader!

Note: Thank You for requesting this, anon! I hope I did your request justice! I tried my very best!

It was a long day, and all I wanted to do was see my boyfriend, so that’s exactly what I decided to do. Since he’s in town with his band, I took advantage of the rare opportunity that I do have with him.

I look down at my phone, looking at the text he sent me just a little while ago.

Irish Blondie💚

Hey, Petal! We’re just doing a bit of recording. I’ll be in room 647! Just knock! Everyone knows you’re coming!

-seen

Me

Okay, sounds good babe! I’ll be there soon!

-delivered

I look back up as I walk through the hallway and I manage to find the room. I knock on the door and step back, waiting for the door to open.

Not even a minute later, the door opens to reveal Louis. His eyes light up when he sees me and he pulls me into a hug.

“Mrs. Neil! Great to see ya, love. How’ve ya been?”

He lets me go and we go inside, Louis closing the door behind us.

“I’ve been good Lou. Just been itching to see Niall.”

He nods in understanding.

“He’s been itching t’ see you too, Y/N. Believe me. Yer all he’s been talkin’ about.”

I blush as I follow him through the room and my mouth gapes, unprepared for what’s in front of me.

“I don’t exist if I don’t have her, the sun doesn’t shine, the world doesn’t turn, alright.”

Before my eyes is my boyfriend. Dancing around. In his underwear. Next to me, Louis bursts out laughing and Niall turns around, his face burning bright red as soon as he sees me.

“Y-Y/N! I-I’m sorry Petal! I’ll um… Just give me a minute to um… Get some clothes on…”

I nod, averting my eyes as I turn around, my face burning just as bright as his. As Niall gets dressed, I chat with Zayn.

“Ya should’ve seen your face, Y/N! You and Nialler! Looked like a couple o’ tomatoes! Lou! Did you get that on video! We gotta show Payno and Harry!”

I cover my face with my hands in an attempt to hide my embarrassment and the two laugh, Zayn pulling me into a hug.

“Stop laughing, you two! It’s not funny! I’ve… Never seen him like that before… He just kind of surprised me… But I told him I was coming! Why was he in his underwear?!”

Both men just shrug when John, one of the producers chimes in.

“That might be my fault. He was in the middle of changing and I sort of had an idea for one of his verses and I distracted him. He’s been like that for about an hour and a half.”

I nod, beginning to understand. It took me a while to get to the hotel since I live about an hour away and my car is in the shop, so my only mode of transportation was the bus.

Zayn pats my back with a smile before he lets me go.

“Don’t look so nervous. He’s Niall, I’m sure this won’t be the last time you see him naked.”

Louis bursts out laughing again and everyone leaves the room as I feel a tap on my back. I turn around and see Niall, now dressed and ready to go.

“Sorry about that Y/N, guess I just got a bit distracted… Promise it won’t happen again.”

He holds his hand out to me and I take it with a smile, although the blush is still visible on my face.

“It’s fine, Niall. But you should know, Louis got it on video. He and Zayn and probably showing it to Harry and Liam as we speak.”

His eyes widen and his cheeks tint again and he pulls me out of the hotel room.

“Tommo! Delete that video, ya fucker!”

Niall lets go of my hand and begins to chase Louis down the hall of the floor, laughs echoing as the video goes around to all. I sigh and shake my head, somehow only falling more in love with him.

WC 700

Requests are open lovelies! Feel free to send them in!

Tag list

@be-with-me-so-happily @violetsandfluff @fruitmans @fruitmansrecs @kaminokatiee @cherryscinema @swiftmendeshoran @harrysmimi

[issaxcharlie]

Always You

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x Fem Reader

Summary: {We Play Pretend Series} Charlie decides to stop overthinking and finally proposes to his best friend at his very own way.

Songs Used: Black and White by Niall Horan and I’ll Follow You by Echosmith

Word Count: +2k

Charlie finally finishes preparing the fire as Y/N comes out of the tent in his orange hoodie, one of his bandanas adorning her high ponytail. Her dazzling smile blanks him for a few seconds, and the day he asked her to be his girlfriend for the first time appeared on the back of his head.

He was maybe even more nervous than he is right now, and he blurted out the question without realizing it. It wasn't until Y/N jumped into his arms and pressed her lips against his that he finally understood what was happening. That day was the happiest day of his life, but then it was overcome by the day their paths crossed again, then by the day they became a couple again, then by the day they moved in together, and if everything goes well, now it will be overcome by this one. He smiles fondly at the memories. One thing is for sure, with Y/N everything always gets better.

She sits next to him, reaching out to sink her face into her boyfriend's neck. When he suggested for them to take a little camping trip before they returned to Canada for the holidays, she said yes without hesitation. First of all, because she loves to experience moments like this with him. Memories of all the times they camped in the Gillespie's backyard when they were children lighting up her heart. And secondly, because she knows that he needs the peace and calm that being here gives him, after all, she has no doubt that Charlie has planned to propose to her during the trip back home.

“Did you enjoy the day? I know you wanted to rest before the trip, it means a lot to me that you agreed to come.” He confessed while wrapping his arm around her, lifting the hoodie slightly to caress the sensitive skin on her waist.

“Char, we spent hours blasting our favorite albums, we elegantly ate ridiculously delicious gas station hotdogs, you spilled the soda down your pants which was quite entertaining, and now I'm under the stars by your side on a beautiful night. If you ask me, this is the perfect day.” She declares without hesitation, raising her head a little to give him a soft kiss in his jawline.

Charlie blushes, happiness flooding his soul just as always with his precious girl. “I couldn’t agree more. Everyday I get to spend with you is a perfect one.” She smirks at his words, her raised eyebrow indicates she's ready to fight him.

"Oh yeah? Even the time I convinced you that Santa was obviously born in Canada and we searched for his house all over the city?" He snorts thinking about two really small ten year olds doing mischief around the town.

"You had very convincing arguments. Shame our parents didn’t think the same and punished us for a month."

“It’s not really punishment if we get to spend it together anyways.” Y/N added, remembering all the hours of fun they managed to have in the Gillespie’s leaving room.

"They had no other choice, we were attached by the hips. I mean, we tried to elope and live in the park a year earlier just because we were sick of saying goodbye every night.” Charlie reminds her while breaking into laughter.

“Mom had to convince us to come back, telling us that one day we could get married and be together in a way nicer place than the park. And you didn’t believe her because what could be nicer than the park?” Y/N recalls, the image of their 9 year old selves swinging with their backpacks full of important prized possessions like Charlie's collection of rocks or Y/N’s toy microphone making them laugh.

“She had to explain to me everything about that marriage thing she was talking about on the way home.” Charlie says with a smile.

“And then you propose a few days later in your backyard, with a red ring pop and a beautiful original song you played on your guitar.” She hugs him tightly, giving him a sweet kiss on the cheek.

“I was nine, I'm sure it wasn’t beautiful. It probably didn't even make sense. But, I wrote it with a lot of love, just for you to eat the ring five minutes later.” He calls her out, sticking out his tongue in a playful way.

“And I’ll do it again.” He pretends to be offended but Y/N just needs to kiss him and whisper that she loves him against his lips for him to smile again. “We were quite intense children, huh?”

His eyes light up, and he winks cheekily. “We still are.”

Charlie gently kisses her hair and gets up to take his guitar, meanwhile she sits a little further away from him to give him enough room to play, and he tries to control the shaking of his hand while playing a soft sound he has been working on.

Once he finally calmed down a little, he starts to play the song he drove so far away to play, deciding it’s time. “That first night we were standing at your door, fumbling for your keys, then I kissed you. Ask me if I want to come inside, 'cause we didn't want to end the night. Then you took my hand, and I followed you.” Y/N had never heard that song before, which immediately surprises her because they live together, how come she never heard it? She puts attention to the lyrics and realizes he is talking about the night they became a couple again, after the Stand Tall presentation.

“Yeah, I see us in black and white, crystal clear on a star lit night, In all your gorgeous colors, I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life. See you standing in your dress, swear in front of all our friends there'll never be another. I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life.” Then everything clicks. How nervous he has been all day, his "sudden" desire to camp before the holidays, the eyes full of emotion with which he has looked at her all night. And suddenly this day is even more perfect than she ever believed it could be.

“Now, we're sitting here in your living room, telling stories while we share a drink or two. And there's a vision I've been holding in my mind, we're 65 and you ask when did I first know?" Tears begin to fall down her cheeks, the purest smile she has ever had stuck on her face. “I always knew.” They whisper at the same time in a broken voice, Charlie trying very hard not to cry at their matched answer so he can finish the song.

“I want the world to witness, when we finally say I do. It's the way you love, I gotta give it back to you. I see us in black and white, crystal clear on a star lit night, In all your gorgeous colors. I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life.”

He finishes the song, puts down the guitar while taking a deep breath and kneels carefully in front of her. “It has always been you. It was you when we were 8 years old and only you could borrow my best crayons, It was you when we were 16 and I learned to drive because you had no one to take you to your auditions, and It was you when we were 22 and I asked you to move in with me because I couldn’t stand be apart from you again. You are the only one with whom I feel as ecstatic as when I jump into the sea, and all you have to do is look at me to achieve it. You are light, Y/N. This beautiful bright star that for some reason, always chooses me. I love you so much, beautiful. You are the love of my life, It will always be you.”

She can't stop the tears falling down her face, her hand lovingly caressing the cheek of the man in front of her. "Y/N Y/L, will you marry me?" She doesn’t give him time to react and joins their lips hard, trying desperately to make him feel everything she is feeling in those moments. He responds fervently, taking her with one hand firmly by the thigh while with the other caresses her neck, confidently putting his hand inside the hoodie.

She bites his pouty lower lip to smoothly slide her tongue, and he strokes her breasts gently before removing his hand from the collar of her clothing. When they finally separate to breathe, Y/N's eyes move to what Charlie is holding in front of her, a precious ring dangling from a golden chain that she has apparently been wearing as a necklace for who knows how many hours.

“Yes, yes, yes. I would always choose you Char.” Y/N gets up and helps Charlie to his feet, only to pull him close and bring his body against hers, her hands entwining in his hair while his arms wrap around her hips. His face shining with happiness. “The necklace was a smart move. Since when have I been wearing it?” She asks while staring deeply at his dazzling green eyes.

“You are unable to keep a ring on your finger for more than three days, there was no other option. I put it on after you fell asleep on the road.”

"This is the first time you managed to fool me. I totally thought you were going to propose in Canada."

“I know it wasn't glamorous but-”

“Shh, it was perfect. The song is beautiful, the ring looks just as I always dreamed of and you are all I want and more. I have never been happier. Heck, you could have asked me this morning while we were in our pajamas watching cartoons and I would have cried with joy anyway. Char, you're everything I need.” He kisses her deeply, releasing all the emotions that had had him stressed throughout the day, enjoying the company of his future wife and the way that only she knows how to melt him.

He lets go briefly to search something in his phone, and the melody he just played starts to fill the comfortable silence.

“It’s my favorite song already.” She whispers against his lips, a small smile in the corner of her mouth.

“It’s all yours, just like me.” Both laugh at how cheesy it sounded, dancing in each other's arms under the stars. Silently thanking God for having found their soulmate in this life.

Although he swears he has enough energy to dance the night away, after an hour Y/N notices just how tired Charlie actually is, and drags him to the tent to get some rest.

“Baby, I’m okay. I want to celebrate all night with you.” He whispers in her ear, catching her by the waist the moment she leans his head against the pillow to prevent her from getting up.

“Easy there, tiger. You can't even keep your eyes open. You drove nonstop for hours without complaining once just because you know I don't like driving. You did the hardest work with the tent and the fire, plus all the time we spent hiking. You need to rest.” His grasp on her loosens and she moves quickly to his side. He turns over his shoulder and leans on her chest, wrapping his arm around her waist.

She smiles at the sight and starts to softly play with his curls while singing him to sleep. “I fell in love at first sight, green eyes that fix it all. Your heart, it feels it all.” All the times she seeked the comfort in his beautiful eyes during the years replaying in her head. The way they shined with love and confusion that first day at the jatp bootcamp replaying in her mind.

“And I, I can't believe that you're mine.” She lets go of his hair to admire the ring around her neck with more attention, but his hand instantly reaches for hers and puts it back on his hair, making her chuckle. “You take away every breath. I can't believe I'm still speechless.” She whispers, planting small kisses on his hair, inhaling the scent of his shampoo as she wraps him in her arms.

“Charles Gillespie, It will always be you.”

Thanks for reading ✨

Taglist: @writerinlearning @strangerthanfanfiction713, @thebloodthirstyvampress @kinda-really-lost, @kcd15 @magnet-girl @aliandthephantoms, @stxrkspidey, @pinkrockstar19, @s0uz4s, @shycupcakealissa @cookiebuba, @fangirlangioma, @sageellsworth05 @twist3dtinkerbell @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve @caitsymichelle13, @ifilwtmfc, @bibliophilewednesday, @totomoshi, @siennanoelle01 @lunashadow6955 @bookfrog247, @morganayennefertyrell, @kiss-themoongoodbye, @rachelle3musicals, @imsydneywalker @really-dont-forget-it @agentstarkid @talksoprettyjjx @kaitieskidmore1 @lukeys-giggle @katie-navarro @crybabyddl @cocopuffs0211 @marvel-ousnesss @blackhood5sos @dpaccione @tuttigunner @calamitykaty @owensgoathat @magicalxdaydream @sunsetcurvej @ss-tipton @rangerelik @badwolf00593 @fobobozobo @justalittleweirdoo

[angelsfalling16]

Sometimes All I Think About Is You

Part of the 20 First Kisses Series

Summary: Baz loses a bet with Dev and Niall and has to wear a uniform skirt for a week, and it makes Simon act so crazy. He can’t handle that much of Baz's legs, and he's determined to prove that Baz is using it as a distraction from whatever he's plotting.

Word Count: 3068

A/N: This was based on this prompt that was sent to @carryonprompts. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it for a few days since I saw it, and I finally got the chance to sit down and write it today. (And of course, it fit perfectly as a 20fk fic :))

The title is from the song "Heat Waves" by Glass Animals

Read it on ao3

***

Simon

There’s a blast of magic, and the doors to the dining hall slam open.

This is a pretty regular occurrence, and everyone is pretty used to it by now, which means that I am one of the few people who look up to see who it is.

Baz walks in through the doors, sneering at Dev and Niall who follow him in. The two of them look like they’re about to burst into laughter at any moment while Baz has a near-murderous look on his face. (It’s an expression I know well.)

I’m not sure why the three of them look like that until my eyes fall down to Baz’s outfit for the day.

“What the hell?” I gasp.

“What did Baz do this time?” Penny asks in a bored tone, not even bothering to look up from

“Look,” I whisper.

She turns, and I use the moment to take in what Baz is wearing. He’s wearing his usual Watford blazer, but rather than his neatly pressed slacks, he has chosen to pair it with the pleated grey skirt that is usually reserved for the girls who choose to wear them.

Somehow, he manages not to look completely ridiculous. I would almost venture to say that he looks good in it. (Of course he does, the bastard. He doesn’t look bad in anything.)

His legs seem to stretch for miles beneath the too-short skirt that barely hits him mid-thigh, and I can’t seem to stop staring at them.

I’ve seen Baz’s legs before, of course. I mean he wears shorts all the time when he’s playing football, but this is different. I’m not supposed to be able to see his legs right now, so it feels wrong in a way. Yet, I can’t seem to look away.

“Hm. Interesting fashion choice,” Penny says, turning back to her breakfast. “I guess there aren’t any rules against the boys wearing skirts since they’re technically still in dress code.”

“Yeah, but it’s weird.”

“How?”

“I—. I don’t kn-know.” I shrug. I guess it’s just different than what I’m used to. But different isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It was just a shock to see him dressed like that. “I guess it’s not. It’s just surprising.”

My eyes follow Baz around the room as he grabs some food and sits down at his table, snickers following him as he walks. From Dev and Niall. No one else seems to really care how Baz decided to dress today.

I try to pretend not to care either, turning back to my own food, but I can’t stop my gaze from wandering over to Baz.

***

I can’t keep my eyes off of Baz the rest of the day either, no matter how hard I try. There’s just something about the way he looks in that skirt that has my eyes glued to him, and it takes my full attention to try to figure it out.

Finally, as I stumble through the lesson in our final class of the day, I figure it out.

Baz is plotting something, and he’s wearing the skirt to throw me off his trail. He wants me focused on what he’s wearing instead of whatever it is that he’s planning. It almost worked, too. I haven’t been able to think about much except that skirt.

I mentally shake myself, feeling foolish. I almost let Baz trick me. If he had managed to keep me distracted, he could have gotten away with whatever he wanted.

Now, I absolutely cannot take my eyes off of him. I have to follow him and figure out his nefarious plan.

***

I follow Baz around for the next several days, and he keeps wearing that skirt, trying to distract me. But I won't let him get away with it. I will figure out what he’s up to and stop him.

Currently, it’s Friday afternoon, and I haven’t stopped watching since the moment he walked into the dining hall for tea. (Without blasting the doors open this time.)

“I know he’s up to something,” I murmur, more to myself than to Penny, but she responds anyway.

“Simon, I mean this in the kindest way possible, but you’re being an idiot.”

“What?” I ask, so shocked that I tear my eyes off of Baz in order to look at her.

“Did you ever stop to consider that maybe he just likes wearing a skirt and that’s why he’s doing it?”

I consider this possibility briefly and silently acknowledge that she has a point, but, “It can’t be that simple. There has to be something more to it.”

“Why?” She asks, sounding exasperated.

“Because it’s Baz. He is always planning something. He’s just trying to distract me,” I explain to her for the third time in just as many days.

She sighs, like she’s giving up on me. “Fine. But consider this: your obsession with Baz’s skirt has nothing to do with the fact that he might be plotting something.”

“What do you mean? What else would it have to do with?”

She shakes her head. “Only you can answer that, and I think it will be better if you figure it out on your own.”

I frown, confused. I don’t have any idea what Penny is on about. The only reason I’m watching Baz so much is to stop his wicked plots.

...Right?

I look over to his table, but he’s gone. He must have left while I was talking to Penny, which means he’s on his way to football practice and is probably changing into his football shorts at this moment.

There’s a weird pang in my chest, almost like disappointment, but I know that can’t be right. Why would I be disappointed by Baz taking off the skirt?

I wouldn’t. What Penny said is just messing with my head.

I quickly finish my tea and scones and rush out the doors to follow Baz. I can’t let him out of my sight.

 Baz

I cannot wait until this dare is over. I’m not sure that I can handle another minute of Simon’s watchful gaze following me everywhere I go. It has gotten worse this week, and I swear I’m going to suffocate under the weight of all of his attention.

Everyone else in the school got over me wearing this skirt after the first day – or rather, the first hour, but Simon seems to be getting more interested in it with every second that passes. I don’t understand why he cares so much. It’s just a skirt.

Luckily, there are only a couple more hours left of this ridiculous dare.

Dev and Niall agreed to let me change out of the skirt during football practice only if I immediately put it back on and wore it all the way through dinner and until I went up to my room for the night. (I can’t even begin to imagine what Coach Mac would have said if I had shown up to practice in a skirt.)

I already got enough attention from the skirt the first time I wore it. Everyone’s eyes were on me as I walked around the school in it. No one dared say a word to me about it, though. Probably because they knew that I wouldn’t hesitate to blast them away with just a few words and flick of my wand.

Now, as I head to the library after dinner, I tug at the skirt self-consciously, glad that I only have to wear this until after dinner. I can’t believe that I actually agreed to this bet. Or that I lost. Or that Dev just had this skirt lying around in his wardrobe.

“No questions,” he said as he handed it to me. I raised my eyebrows at him but said nothing.

I had to spell the skirt to fit me, but it wasn’t too far off from my own size. The only thing I didn’t change was the length. Most girls wear their skirts longer, but if I’m going to go through with this dare, I’m keeping the skirt exactly how Dev had it. I won’t lie, I’m curious as to where Dev might have gotten it, but I respect his privacy enough not to bother him about it.

I wish I could say the same for everyone else.

I’d probably be staring at me, too, because it’s so different from what I usually wear at school, but that doesn’t mean that I’m not annoyed. There is one person’s eyes on me that is particularly getting to me.

From the moment I stepped into the dining hall on Monday, Snow’s eyes have tracked my every moment. He was so shocked by my appearance that his mouth fell open, and he stared at me for a full minute before Bunce said something to him.

Ever since then, I have felt him following me, closer than ever before, and he looks like he wants to say something. He hasn’t yet, and I’m unsure what is holding him back. Even though I’ve been doing my best to avoid him, there have been several moments when he could have corned me and said whatever he wanted.

I am relieved he hasn’t, though, because I am simply not in the mood to listen to him make fun of me. Especially since if this weren’t so against the social norm, I might feel inclined to dress like this a little more often.

Simon Snow is the last person I want to hear making fun of me for wearing something that makes me feel more like myself than anything else.

 Simon

“Would you please stop drooling over Baz’s legs and focus. You were the one who wanted to study today.”

“I’m not drooling!” I say defensively, my voice a little too loud for the library.

“You’re like two minutes away from it. You haven’t stopped staring at his legs all day.”

She gives me this look that leaves absolutely no room for argument, so I press my lips tightly together and turn my attention back to my notes. We have an important exam coming up, but I can’t focus, not with Baz sitting over there dressed like that.

I have to confront him about it. Ask him what he’s plotting.

Finally, I’ve had enough, and when Baz gets up to go in search of a book, it’s the perfect opportunity.

I stand and Penny sighs but doesn’t say anything. This is likely paired with one of her signature eye rolls, but I can’t bring myself to look her in the face right now, so I don’t know for sure.

I watch Baz disappear between the stacks and follow after him.

Maybe I’ll actually be able to get him alone this time. I’ve been trying to talk to him all day, but I didn’t want to make a big scene in front of everyone, and I could never get him alone.

I find him towards the back of the library and realize that I never actually figured out what I would say to him once I finally got the chance to talk to him, and my mind goes blank as my eyes once again fall to the skirt he’s wearing.

“What the hell are you doing?” I blurt.

Well, that probably wasn’t the best thing to say.

 Baz

Simon’s exclamation startles me, but I go very still in the hopes that he won’t notice. I didn’t even know he was in the library. I thought I would be safe from him here, but sure enough, when I turn around, he’s standing behind me with an intense expression.

“What do you mean?” I sneer, trying to play it cool.

“I know you’re plotting something.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He takes a step closer to me, and my heart starts racing. My cheeks flush, too, and I’m not really sure why.

Simon’s eyes drop to my skirt as if that’s answer enough, and I’m pretty sure his own cheeks go a little red as stares at me.

That’s interesting, I think.

“You know, Snow, if you wanted to get me alone, all you had to do is say so.” I say it just to see how he’ll react. To test something.

He really is blushing now and stutters out a bunch of sounds that don’t make up any real words.

He doesn’t hit me, though. He doesn’t even deny it. His pale skin just keeps getting redder until it looks like all of the blood in his body might be in his face. It’s kind of cute but also confusing. Why is he reacting like this?

“That’s not—. I mean—. What are you planning?” He says, trying to sound fierce, but in reality, he just sounds nervous. It truly is interesting.

“Nothing. I just like wearing skirts.” I tell him the truth only because I know he won’t believe it.

He growls at me and takes another step forward. I try to back away from him, not trusting what I might do if he gets too close to me, but I bump into a shelf and have been effectively cornered by him.

“You’ve got me where you want me,” I say, a little too breathily. “Now, what?”

He shakes his head, and I’m not sure if it’s at me or himself. He doesn’t say anything, just takes another step forward until we’re mere inches apart.

I glance around us, but we’re all alone. He has me trapped, and I don’t even mind. Even if he were about to kill me, I don’t think I’d stop him. I might kiss him first, but I wouldn’t mind dying with Simon Snow this close to me.

A long moment stretches out between us as we stand like this, practically staring each other down. Then, his eyes move to my mouth then my skirt then back to my face, and I try not to shift under his gaze, try not to care.

But then something shifts in his expression, and he starts to lean in closer until our lips are a breath apart.

Simon

Maybe this is what Penny meant earlier.

I wasn’t obsessed about Baz wearing a skirt because I thought he was plotting something. It was because I was attracted to him in it.

Once that thought enters my mind, it’s like everything else seems to click into place.

The skirt isn’t the only thing attracting me to Baz. I’ve felt this way about him before, I just always buried it and threw myself into figuring out what he was plotting.

But it was always so much more than that.

I watch Baz a lot. The way he casts spells, using his magic so effortlessly. The way he pushes his out of his sparkling grey eyes when it comes loose from its slicked back state. The way his hair almost starts to curl when he gets out of the shower. The way he smiles when he thinks no one is watching, like he is truly happy.

The thoughts and realizations keep circling in my mind until I realize that I desperately want to kiss him.

I start to lean forward but stop, wondering if I’m making a mistake. What if Baz doesn’t want this?

 Baz

Simon hesitates briefly, meeting my eyes, like he’s waiting for me to tell him no or push him away, but I’m not going to stop him. I don’t have that kind of willpower.

I nod at him, and that’s all it takes for him to close the distance between us.

His lips press to mine softly at first then more firmly once he realizes I’m really not going to stop him. I can’t stop the sigh that escapes me as he kisses me like it’s the only thing he wants to do.

I kiss him back slowly, afraid that this is all a dream, but it’s not. It’s so utterly real. Simon Snow is kissing me.

With that thought, I put everything I have into the kiss, tilting my head to deepen it and putting my hands on his hips to deepen the kiss.

It feels weird to feel Simon against my bare leg. I mean, it feels weird to have him this close in general, but also, it feels nice.

He’s so warm, and I didn’t realize that I had been freezing all day with my legs uncovered until Simon’s natural body heat starts to warm me up.

I smile into the kiss as one of his hands finds its way into my hair, tangling there. His other hand slides down my side until he reaches the edge of my shirt and hem of the skirt. He stops there, like he’s found exactly what he was looking for.

Damn, I think, pulling back to catch my breath, if I had known that wearing a skirt would get this reaction from Simon, I might have worn one a lot sooner.

Apparently I say that last bit out loud because Simon agrees. “You should. It looks better on you than anyone else.”

I feel all of the blood in my body rise to my face in a deep blush, and I kiss Simon again in the hopes that he won’t notice how pleased I am by his words.

I have never told anyone how dressing in girl’s clothes really makes me feel, so it makes me feel elated to hear Simon say he likes it.

This isn’t the first time I’ve tried on a skirt, but it’s the first time I’ve worn one in front of other people. Which is why I accepted the bet. And why I intentionally lost. I wanted to try it out. I wanted to see how other people might react while being able to say that I didn’t have a choice if things didn’t go too well.

This week has given me hope, though. It made me feel like I could dress like this more often if I wanted to. And maybe I really will.

I don’t think I would want to dress like a girl all the time or that I want to be a girl, but occasionally dressing like this makes me feel really good. It feels right.

I kiss Simon harder, happy that I can be myself and be allowed to kiss him when I never thought I would be able to do either of those things.

[thetypedwriter]

Cold Iron Heart Book Review

Cold Iron Heart by Melissa Marr Book Review 

I don’t think many people are aware or have read the Wicked Lovely series by Melissa Marr, but that’s alright. I originally started this book blog as I had so many thoughts and feelings about the books I was reading and yet no one to share them with. 

So I might be talking to me, myself and I in this book review, but at the end of the day, it’s still a way for me to express how I feel about the literature I’m consuming even if no one else is reading this. 

Wicked Lovely is one of my favorite series from when I was young. I still remember very clearly how my love story with these books started as it was odd and coincidental. I was at the grocery store with my mom and a promised “quick” trip quickly turned into an hour-long shopping spree as my mother was prone to do. 

Back then I was in middle school, had no cell phone, and was bored out of my mind. So what is any pre-teen to do? I went over to the small, sad book selection in the grocery story and picked up the novel with the most interesting cover. 

This book was Wicked Lovely by Melissa Marr. 

I read it the rest of the day and finished it that night, consuming page after page. I was completely transfixed. It was dark, gritty, violent, sexy-all things that my twelve-year old self found entirely fascinating. 

It was a fantasy book about fairies, but these fairies were deadly, life-sized, cruel, violent, beautiful and loving. 

I’ve been enamored with fairies and fairy lore ever since. All because of this book and the series that followed. It hooked me in ways that I still don’t fully comprehend, but I understood then that I hadn’t read anything like it before and I was drawn into Melissa Marr’s world and never quite left it, even all these years later. I’ve gone back and re-read Wicked Lovely multiple times and each time I still found it enjoyable and alluring. 

Cold Iron Heart is a different beast. 

A few days ago, my best friend (who is a journalist) sent me an email saying that local Arizona author, Melissa Marr, was releasing a new book and that she might have the opportunity to interview her. 

I was ecstatic, of course, and not so subtly tried to persuade my friend to let me silently snoop in on the interview (I didn’t, by the way). 

It was then that I realized I hadn’t checked in on Melissa Marr for some time-what had she been writing? Imagine my surprise that one of my favorite series of all time not only had a new book-a prequel no less, but also several new short stories. 

I was flabbergasted. And beyond excited. 

So I ordered the book immediately and read it the moment it arrived on my doorstep to eventually find myself with...mixed feelings with a negative tinge. Okay, more than a tinge, more like a cascading waterfall of negative feelings. 

First off, the book is a prequel. 

Now. Melissa Marr could have done so many cool things with this. There are so many interesting characters that I would have loved to see more in depth or delve into their histories. 

Like Miach and Beira, for example. I’ve heard about the late Summer King since book 1, but never got to read about him as he was dead before the series began. However, his legendary love with Beira, the Winter Queen, would have been so incredibly bewitching to read about it, especially if it involved the birth of Keenan. 

This would have been an awesome choice. 

Irial and Niall would have been another incredible one, probably the best one. We’ve been told over and over again throughout the series that these two hot-heads with a past used to run the Dark Court together, wreaking havoc, taking lovers, seeking new heights, etc. 

But do we get to see this transfixing time? Nope. 

I would even have settled for a story about the Hunt, Sorcha and Bannanach, literally any character done in the right way. 

But...no. Melissa Marr decides to write a prequel that is literally a carbon copy of the first book Wicked Lovely, but innumerably worse. 

Everything in the prequel is exactly the same as the original novels. Miach is dead, Keenan is looking for his Summer Queen, the Winter Girl is pissed off for not being the chosen love of Keenan’s, Irial is temptation in the flesh, Niall and Irial are at odds, Bananach is causing discord, Sorcha is isolated and frigid, the list goes on and on. 

Nothing of consequence, novelty, or importance happens in this book. 

Frankly, it just felt like a terrible redo of the first novel, just set 100 years back. 

I didn’t give a single flying crap about Thelma or Tam or whatever her name was. She was a worse version of Leslie, of Aislinn, of every other cool female character we eventually get to read about in the main series. 

Thelma was contradictory in the worst of ways. She said one thing, like she would rely on no man and never have children and then turned around and did every single one of them like some sort of hypocrite galore. 

She was so irritating and boring to read about that I tended to skim her parts because it was just paragraph after paragraph of bitching and moaning about the same goddamn things over and over again: stay away from fairies, oh god this fairy likes me, no sex, no children, no love and then bam! She just throws it all away. 

Urgh. 

The worst part too is that this isn’t a well written book. It’s repetitive, quite boring at times, and caters way too much to the reader. 

Something I loved about the first Wicked Lovely is that Melissa Marr kinda just tosses you into her world and calls it a day. She doesn’t hold your hand or over explain. She just describes and lets you glean for yourself. 

I loved this aspect of the original series. I liked learning about her world and the characters this way. 

Cold Iron Heart spits on the idea of this concept. Marr repeats herself so much about the same things, who Irial is, what fairies are, why this is happening, that I grew increasingly irritated as the book went on. 

Who on earth is she explaining this for? New readers? Why in the world would any new reader start with this book? The newest one that comes after six others???? It makes no goddamn sense. 

So not only did I feel patronized and aggravated, but the love story between Thelma and Irial grated on me as there was no basis for their love. 

It was ridiculous with no shred of authenticity and I hated it, especially knowing that he already loves Niall and Leslie only to come back and say, “wait a moment! I had another true love that I’ve never mentioned before. Yeah. Her name was Thelma. Or Tam. Or whatever, I don’t know. I knew her for three days, most of which was just sex, and then I lost her after she had my baby but I conveniently forgot about it because of nonsensical plot! Hahahah, good right?”

No. Not good. Horrible. 

Overall, this book is a waste of time and trees. 

I don’t know why Melissa Marr even wrote and published this. I can see her writing this for herself because why not, but as a fan and a reader this was beyond disappointing. 

It’s like how all Harry Potter fans felt when J.K. Rowling wrote The Cursed Child and we got movies about Newt Scamander when we literally wanted anything else-Marauder series anyone??

It’s a particular kind of egregious offense when a favorite series or author of yours ends up ruining the canon you’re in love with. For that reason alone, I am stripping Cold Iron Heart from my heart and mind, like it never existed. 

Just like I did with Cursed Child, or the fact that you-know-who dies in Death Note (if you know, you know). I just...don’t believe it. It ruined all the lovely things Marr had previously written and the stories that defined so much of my love for YA, for fantasy, and for my own writing as a whole. 

I know for a lot of you this was a bumbling mess of a review with little to no clarity of the plot or who these characters are. Frankly, I’d be surprised if you are still reading if you didn’t know the book or the series in the first place, but that’s alright. 

Like I said at the beginning, this is a way to get my intense feelings and thoughts down onto paper and now that I have I feel marginally better, although still pissed off that this book exists and that I currently own it. 

Sigh. 

Well if you stuck around for the ride, I appreciate it. If you skipped this particular book review, I understand that too. 

Recommendation: Burn this book. However, if you want a gritty, tantalizing fantasy story, pick up the original Wicked Lovely and be whisked away into a world that has stuck with me since the first moment I read it on the fateful day at the grocery store. 

Score: 3/10

[swiftgronmasterpost]

GRYLES!!!

Rebuilding the Gryles Timeline expertly crafted here because I’m always afraid of broken links and people going private and losing data.

Not only is there a ton of great evidence that these guys were dating such as Harry leaving Nick’s place in the morning wearing the same clothes as he’d worn the night before, I’ve also got a friend who works in the UK music industry and she did tell me these guys did date.  Nick is 100% out as gay so it really does all add up.

Gryles very obviously takes place during Haylor, debunking Harry as the 1989 muse, and if it’s not Harry you do have to wonder... who with green eyes and an obsession with Alice and Wonderland was heavily featured in Taylor’s life and then disappeared before 1989 - a breakup album about someone with green eyes who seems to relate to Alice in Wonderland drops?

You get it.

Anyway here’s Gryles:

This is a little game I like to call "let's talk about Nick/Harry dates and how they line up with Harry leaving and entering the country".

06. February 5th 2012 - Harry and Nick go to a Super Bowl party together.

One Direction in Sweden February 12th - 14th. (Came home by train on the 14th.)

07. February 14, 2012 - VALENTINE'S DAY!

08. February 18, 2012 - Stella McCartney Fashion show with Nick's mom.

09. February 21, 2012 - Brit Awards!

10. February 22, 2012 - They attend a party together. (Nick might have been DJing?)

11. February 23, 2012 - Harry spotted leaving Nick Grimshaw's flat in the same outfit he was wearing the night before.

The morning of February 23rd One Direction flies to the US for their tour and doesn't return to the UK until April 24th, 2012.

This trip is supposedly where Haylor 1.0 happens.  Harry supposedly meets Taylor at the KCA’s on March 31 and they fall for one another.  Taylor supposedly goes to NYC to be with Harry (even though she spends the whole time with Dianna) during the first week of April.  Then they supposedly enter into a long distance relationship that is broken up because Harry was seen out with another girl.

All the while the last thing Harry does before he leaves the UK is spend the night with Nick and then the first thing he does is goes back to him.

Yeah, I’m not buying Haylor 1.0 it seems pretty clear to me that Taylor wanted to pin I Knew You Were Trouble on Harry as a big pop anthem to support her transition to pop.  I think it’s even possible they faked Harry being spotted out with that girl or perhaps he and Nick had some kind of agreement.  I’m not saying Gryles was always exclusive (they may have been), but regardless I don’t see Red era Taylor being cool enough to share her boyfriend with a man.

12. April 25, 2012 - Nick and Harry out together the morning after he returned.

Harry also calls into Nick's radio show on the 25th and confirms that the first thing he did upon returning on the 24th was meet up with Nick and Matt Fincham for drinks so one can theorize he probably crashed w/ Nick that night.

Harry goes to LA by himself on May 1st and returns to the UK on the 5th.

May 5th, 2012 - Harry out with Annie Mac and Nick. (Thanks to my anon for clueing me into this little gem of information.)

13. May 7th, 2012 - Harry and Nick out with friends

One Direction goes to Sweden from May 10th to May 16th.

14. May 17, 2012 - The Sun reports Harry driving Nick to work.

Also out shopping together

15. May 19, 2012 - Nick posts a picture to his instragram from the Kanye West/Jay Z show at the O2.

Who cares right? So he went to see a show. But then.

Hey guess what happened the very next day? One Direction flew to Boston on May 20th, 2012 to start their summer tour in the U.S. They're gone from the 20th to July 3rd.

16. July 5, 2012 - Nick and Harry attend the launch of Tinie Tempah's shoes line.

There's some downtime and vacation time here where Harry disappears for a week while Louis is France w/ Eleanor, Niall goes to Spain, Liam and Danielle are on vacation, etc and then One Direction goes back to work July 11th recording and doing photo shoots.

17. July 19, 2012 - Harry goes out with Nick and Aimee and tweets this.

18. August 10, 2012 - Harry attends Nick's 28th birthday party at La Bodega Negra.

Pregaming before the party!

Outside La Bodega Negra

19. August 11, 2012 - Primrose Hill picnic

20. August 20, 2012 - One Direction visit Nick at BBCR1 to announce their headlining of the BBC Radio 1 Teen Choice Awards.

21. August 25, 2012 -

Nick and Harry go to lunch. (Would also like to point out that they are switching places and that Harry is going to the driver's side of Nick's car :333)

and then to Reading Festival

then Nick accompanies Harry to Liam's party at Funky Buddha

and then they leave together and go see Rita Ora at G.A.Y.

22. August 26, 2012 - The morning after, Nick tweets a shot of his hangover breakfast from Harry's Range Rover (Nick owns a Mercedes).

then a lunch date with several people

They spend this entire day together and this is the day the pics of them in the grocery store  are taken where Nick buys Harry a banana, etc

and then Harry drops Nick off for his nighttime show and picks him up again to take him to/stay with him while Nick DJs at Wonderland nightclub.

(Although, lbr. Given what we learn from Nick's final nighttime show about how often Harry hung around the studio, he probably never left.)

Wonderland! (the only time that fucking song has any bearing on Harry and he’s off being a MLM king)

23. August 28, 2012 - Leaving Nick's flat

spotted in the studio w/ Nick at BBCR1

24. August 30, 2012 - Harry films the Breakfast Show advert for Nick's #Team Grimmy commercial and then they go to Mahiki Club that night.

25. August 31, 2012 - Harry goes with Nick to his DJ gig at Paradise

and then to karaoke afterward

The lo and behold One Direction flies to Florida the very next day to film their Pepsi commercial. They're gone until September 11th.

on September 6, 2012 Taylor has Sushi with Ed and Harry in LA supposedly signaling the start of Haylor 2.0 as if Harry is not fully boyfriends with Nick.

26. September 12, 2012 - Nick's final nighttime show. (this was a gif of them being cute and playing around but I was too lazy to bring it over, you get it they’re touchy, flirty, and playful):

Nick and Aimee go on vacation together from the 14th to the 18th.

27. September 18, 2012 - This dude says he spotted Harry Styles waiting in arrivals at the airport while waiting for his sister's flight to arrive insinuating perhaps Harry was traveling with Nick and Aimee:

28. September 20, 2012 - iTunes Festival where One Direction was interviewed by Nick and Annie Mac

29. Harry calls into Nick's first Breakfast Show on September 25, 2012. Then they meet up after to see Perks of Being a Wallflower together. I can't find the tweets from the ladies who saw them there, but Nick and Emma Watson confirm later that Harry was indeed there.

30. September 29, 2012 - Spotted at Waitrose together and then the following morning Nick regales his listeners with the tale of a Spinach pie he made for a ~friend~.

31. October 5th (or 6th?), 2012 - Preparation for Ladz FM

But also on October 5th, Taylor is on Nick’s show:

32. October 6, 2012 - Ladz FM

Supposedly on this show Nick gives Harry hell for Taylor, the Haylor timeline I like puts it this way:

“One Direction and Harry make an appearance on Nick’s show the following day, and they talk about Taylor on-air for 4 minutes straight. Nick teases Harry by saying “Ol’ Swiftyyyy” over and over again when she is brought up in the conversation.” Yup that’s right, Nick was giving his own boyfriend shit about his fake girlfriend 😭😭😭 this is why I fuck w Nick’s energy.

then they went for lunch in notting hill (no Taylor? why not Harry aren’t you so happy to be back with her and in love w her?)

33. October 7, 2012 - BBC Teen Choice Awards

One Direction doing promotion for the new album.

Paris - October 11, 2012

Ireland - October 12, 2012

Manchester - October 16, 2012

Leeds - October 17, 2012

34. October 19, 2012 - Lunch in London

October 31 - One Direction in Spain

Early November One Direction goes to the US for Ellen, X Factor USA, and The Today Show. After The Today Show Harry flies to LA while the rest of One Direction goes back to London. Harry writes a song with the lead singer of Snow Patrol and rumors start flying about him hooking up with Taylor Swift.

Harry arrives back in London on November 16, 2012.

35. November 16, 2012 - Children in Need benefit concert

November 30th One Direction goes back to the U.S. for one off shows and MSG show. Haylor happens.

Harry returns to London on December 8th via Taylor's private jet and plays the Jingle Ball with the rest of One Direction. Harry and Taylor tour the UK together until December 15th when Taylor leaves for France.  Meanwhile Dianna heads out on a mystery 14 hour long flight on December 14th.

36. December 16, 2012 - Roast Dinner!

One Direction returns to the U.S. for the X Factor USA finale. Harry stays in the U.S. and goes on a ski vacation with Taylor Swift, Justin Bieber, and Selena Gomez.

He returns to the UK on December 24th.

37. December 25, 2012 - Late night Christmas leftovers. (Yes they’re spending Christmas together, that’s boyfriend behavior!)

Harry and Nick both leave London on the 29th (Nick for Puerto Rico and Harry for NYC) Harry spends New Years with Taylor and Nick spends New Years with Pixie, Aimee, and the rest of the hipster crew. Harry and Taylor then fly to Gorda British Virgin Islands where they are supposed to vacation until the 7th. Taylor leaves on the 4th and Harry goes to Necker Island alone. Tabloids say Harry and Taylor have broken up.

And that’s it for Haylor!

Harry arrives back in the UK on January 8th

38. January 8, 2013 - Sushi lunch date! (tweet confirming nick was also there.)

and harry with the girl who tweeted it.

39. January 10, 2013 - Tinie Tempah's GQ dinner.

The party was for people on the British GQ best dressed list (Nick was on it. Harry was not.)

Jessie J puts a picture of the table cards from her table on instagram. Harry doesn't have one which, you know. I'll just be here imagining him as Nick's + 1.

One Direction fly to Ghana on the 12th or 13th and return on the 15th. On the 16th Harry calls into Grimmy’s show to talk about how Fincham DOES NOT LOOK LIKE A MEMBER OF ONE DIRECTION. Finchy asks Harry when he’s back and Harry says “in a couple of days”. (Small side note here that I don’t think Finchy and Harry are at the level of friends where they keep track of one another’s schedules so the only way Finchy could have known that Harry was heading back out of town to Japan that very day is if Nick told him.)

One Direction in Japan from January 16th to the 20th.

I'm not going to count this as a time they were together because I have no hard evidence, but the night of January 20th Harry was spotted in a grocery store buying wine and Annie Mac mentions on her show that Nick ditched coming over for dinner that evening to have a friend round to his house instead. We assume it was Harry, but w/o actual proof I don't want to say it concretely.

40. January 21, 2013 - Baking for Radio 1! (Tweet confirming the friend was Harry.)

Nick tells this story the morning of the 22nd about how he forgot he had to bake, so he got up from bed, went to the store for supplies, and forgot eggs. So, he texted his friend who was coming over to bring eggs and then Nick baked while his friend yelled at him to add more butter.

41. January 22, 2013 - Watching Great British Bake Off

Do what you will with this one. Obviously there is not definite way to tell if this is Harry or not, but given the evidence of the amount of time they spend together that has been laid forth thus far, I feel comfortable saying those are indeed Harry's legs.

42. January 31, 2013 - Out for Harry's birthday at La Bodega Negra (the same place they celebrated Nick's birthday.)

Nick also went to Groucho Club afterward with Harry and mentioned on his show this morning that he hadn't slept at all. (He was still wearing the same outfit.)

43. February 1, 2013 - Aimee tweets about being in the car with Nick en route to play Laser Quest. (Can't imagine who they might be playing with.)

Nick tweeted this :)

Never

Getting

Over

This

February 19, 2013 - PreBrit Awards Dinner Hosted by Nick!

THEIR SMILEY LITTLE FACES. :3

Legit SHARING A TAXI ON THE WAY HOME

2/20/13 - At the Brit Awards together!

Leaving an after party!

taking a cab to Nick's house so Nick can change for work

hands hands hands

At Nick's flat

 2/21/13 - On The Breakfast show the morning after the Brits!

Harry on The Breakfast Show!

2/23/2013 - Nick attends One Direction's first show at the O2 in London

THE DROUGHT IS OVER!!!

8/21/2013 - Nick interviews Harry, Zayn, and Liam for TBS

Then Nick and Harry hook up later for dinner.

September 12, 2013

Harry gets off the plane from LAX, gets on the tube and meets Nick at an Elton John concert

Harry and Nick's dad at the concert, posted to Nick's instagram.

September 13, 2013

This person says they saw nick and Harry at Apartment 58 (members only club) together

https://twitter.com/LightbownL/status/378610145271771136

But, Sadie Frost also posted a picture of her and Nick getting ready to go out for LFW with no mention of Harry, so the tweet could be false facts.

But then! September 14, 2013

Sadie posts this picture of Nick sleeping on her sofa

Followed by this picture of Harry posing with her daughter

And then Nick and Harry went to Henry Hollands show at LFW together

Then to a pub with Gemma, Kelly Osborn and others

Then to dinner with James Corden and his wife

September 15, 2013

September 17, 2013 - Fashion Show East in London

November 9, 2013 - Breakfast with Anne and Robin at the Wolseley.

So Anne tweeted this in the morning. You can see the Wolseley logo at the top of the plate.

Then this girl got a pic with Harry at the Wolseley during his breakfast with Anne and Robin.

and she confirmed that Nick was eating with them https://twitter.com/alexandra_imper/status/400204985222193152

Then off to Selfridges to shop!

At Alexa Chung's birthday party!

November 10, 2013 - Ladz instagram and Aimee Phillips birthday party!

LADZ VIDEO!

November 30, 2013

Harry playing with Puppy at Nick's house.

Poppy Delevingne's hen party!

Leaving Groucho club.

December 1, 2013

Primrose Hill lighting ceremony!

Nick with Daisy Lowe and his dad!

Then this girl met Nick

https://twitter.com/rpcheald/status/407224559687852032/photo/1

and saw Harry

https://twitter.com/rpcheald/status/407209332858552320

Class of '92 movie premiere

Nick and his dad on the red carpet

Harry meeting Beckham!

December 4, 2013 - London Fashion Awards

February 17, 2014 - Taking a random taxi ride?????

and leaving Nick's flat

March 29, 2014

Sleepover at Harry's house!

Nick posted this on instagram

http://instagram.com/p/mHpTBdPJyt/

At the time we weren't sure it was Harry's drive but...

https://twitter.com/cuppanarryx/status/481310537817399296/photo/1

Hiya, doggie.

Also Nick's tweet from the morning after just because.

https://twitter.com/grimmers/status/449814322399940609

May 24, 2014 - Radio 1's Big Weekend

May 28, 2014 - Barry's BC London

And link to post about the other tweets x

June 8, 2014

Nick attends One Directions show at Wembley Stadium.

June 12, 2014

Harry at Nick driving around London in a Ferrari.

and another tweet about the Ferarri sighting.

https://twitter.com/ItsJustMikey/status/477133631602065408

Then later that evening Harry went to Nick's for his World Cup barbecue and fans took pics with Harry outside Nick's house.

[hlcreators]

AUTHOR REC: louistomlinsons / @adoredontour 

Be sure to show some love by leaving kudos and comments!

this town’s just an ocean now (31k)

“I have really great friends. Do you remember Louis? You guys were always hanging out when you were growing up.” Harry remembers Louis. Harry remembers Louis. Suddenly, his throat feels way too dry, despite the ice cream he keeps licking at. He chokes a little on a chocolate chip before saying, “I, uh. I remember Louis.” Her face brightens. “We have dinner every Sunday. He owns the house now. His parents moved further north, and he wanted to stay here, so they just gave it over. Now if you want to worry about someone being lonely, that’s who I worry about.” inspired by watermelon sugar, featuring picnics on the beach and boys being dumb

daydream about me (21k)

“Anything else going on for you at the moment?” she asks, leaning forward on her elbows across the table, mindful of the radio equipment in front of her. “What about you and that Louis Tomlinson?” Harry sputters, mouth moving but no words coming out. She can feel her cheeks heat up, darkening with embarrassment. “It’s not, Louis and I, we don’t—” Harry can’t finish the sentence, tongue heavy in her mouth. She takes a deep breath, thankful they’re not being videoed, and tries again, “We’ve never even met, actually.” alternatively titled 'harry styles does not have a crush on louis tomlinson and other lies she tells liam payne'

robbers and cowards (33k)

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d almost think that you’re enjoying yourself.” The familiar voice immediately gets Louis’ blood boiling, shoulders tensing as he calmly spins around, trying not to draw any suspicion to the pair. “You don’t know me at all,” Louis spits, managing to maintain the polite smile he’s been wearing all evening. “You’re just some asshole who always ruins my nights.” “If I keep ruining your nights, why do you keep going home with me?” Harry asks, taking a sip from his own wine glass. “I don’t go home with you by any choice of my own,” Louis says. “I think you’re annoying and I have no idea how I keep ending up in your bed.” “You end up in my bed because you knock on my apartment door at two in the morning.” Louis wants to punch the smirk right off of his face. “Maybe you should move,” is what he says instead. or a modern day robin hood au where louis and harry (don’t really) hate each other but they hate greedy billionaires more

I’m a Rocket Man (47k)

All he could hear were the faint sounds of Pina Colada coming from the radio and his own heart beating erratically against his chest.

“Oops,” he heard coming from the other side of the front window. He quickly pushed the grey rubber towards the back of the car, the rubber of the thing groaning and squeaking as he did so. Finally, after wrestling the thing away from him, Harry came into view, face pressed against the other side of the window.

“Hi.” Louis smiled, looking towards Harry, eyes curious. He almost got lost in the way Harry’s face was so cutely pinched, green eyes glowing in the sunlight. He was brought back to reality when Harry tried to move, causing the grey whatever it was to push against Louis again. “What the fuck is this?”

“Uhh... it’s Randy?”

or, Niall is an investigative journalist, Liam is his biggest fan, Zayn is just along for the ride, and Harry probably isn’t an alien. A roadtrip au no one asked for.

sip it slowly and pay attention (12k)

“So I’ve got a guy I think you might like,” Louis says. He’s standing in the doorway of Harry’s office, drinking from what is most definitely Harry’s mug. “You’re going to set me up?” Harry asks, rightfully wary. He can’t imagine that this could end well. “Don’t look so afraid.” Louis takes a sip from his mug, wincing as it burns him. Harry rolls his eyes. He’s always warning Louis to be more patient before he loses all his taste buds. “I know you better than anyone else. Who better to set you up on dates than me?” “I guess you’re right,” Harry says, still slightly hesitant. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Louis, but. He doesn’t trust Louis’ taste. Louis has about the same track record with men that Harry does, if not quite as extensive. or, harry is a guidance counselor, louis is an english teacher, and harry just wants to go on one successful date

i hope that you won’t slip away in the night (13k)

He turns back to Maybe Jessica. “Who’s going to be here?” “Harry Styles,” she says. “The one-” “I know who he is,” Louis snaps. “Who invited him?” “Uh, you did, sir.” Louis didn’t think that was serious. When he had responded to Harry’s cheeky tweet about the gala with his own cheeky ‘You should come - I’ll put you on the guest list’ he hadn’t expected anything to come of it. Least of all for Harry to show up. or the one where louis is a prince and harry is a popstar

feels like we’re finally free (13k)

louis just wants to write a breakup novel. falling in love was never part of the plan, but the cute barista at his favorite coffeeshop makes him think otherwise.

who’s that girl? (13k)

“So, do you want to tell us a little bit more about why you’re here?” “What do you mean?” Harry asks, furrowing his eyebrows together. “I’m here because I need a place to live and you guys need a roommate.” “I guess let me rephrase that,” Leo (or maybe Liam) says. He taps his pen twice against the notepad, drawing Harry’s attention away from a large hole in one of the walls. “Why do you need a place to live?” “Oh, that’s easy.” Harry sits up straighter in his seat. “I walked in on my boyfriend of four years banging my boss. I couldn’t very well keep living with them, could I?” harry is canadian, louis owns a bar, zayn comes and goes as he pleases, liam's just trying to keep everyone alive, and nobody knows what niall does. a new girl au.

we’re not who we used to be (30k)

“Harry…” Louis’ voice catches in his throat, thick with tears threatening to fall out, so he coughs to clear it before trying again. “Harry is Liam’s best man?” “You didn’t know?” Harry is standing at the entrance of the garage, mouth slightly open and face pulled together. He sets his bag on the ground and puts his hands on his hips. When he does that, he looks just like the Harry that Louis remembers (and loves, he thinks with an aching heart). “I’m sure I mentioned it,” Liam says, but Louis can tell he’s lying by the way he chews on his lower lip and twists his fingers together. “You’re all a bunch of dick heads, I’m getting in the car.” Louis isn’t sure if he’s being unreasonable. He has no idea what the protocol is when your ex-boyfriend shows up after three years and nobody bothered to give you a heads up. He’s pretty sure he’s allowed to be upset about it, even if it’s only for a bit. or an exes to lovers canadian roadtrip au

old macdonald had a farm (5.1k)

Louis is a hedgehog, Harry is a fish, Niall is a parrot, Liam is a golden retriever, and Zayn is Zayn. It’s a crazy twenty-four hours.

or are you giving it to someone else (3.3k)

“Dude, last night I couldn’t tell if he was being murdered or having the best sex of his life,” Louis said, taking a sip of his beer. He tried to say it as quietly as he could in the loud pub, worried about who may overhear him. “Is this your neighbor?” Liam asked. He was newer to the group, and therefore, newer to the situation. He had only heard a handful of the stories about the strange things Louis heard his neighbor doing, as opposed to the book Louis could most definitely write about the man. In the hallways, he seemed perfectly normal. He would smile at Louis and sometimes make polite conversation. He didn’t seem like the type to be having loud, kinky sex every night at the craziest hours of the day. But he was. or, louis hears his neighbor having loud sex through the walls and it's not a problem until it is

The F Word (23k)

When Louis finds himself at a party for the first time after his boyfriend cheated on him, the last person he expects to meet is Harry. They hit it off immediately, conversation flowing all night. Louis finally thinks he’s ready to jump back into the dating scene, when a wrench gets thrown in his plan.

Harry has a boyfriend.

Or, a movie AU based on the F word

tonight’s not over (come over and stay) (16k)

Zayn doesn’t say anything for a moment, pausing and worrying at his bottom lip. Finally, he asks, “Have you heard that Cox guy is coming out with a new song?” Louis freezes, fingers hovering over his keyboard where they had been typing his password. “No, I hadn’t,” Louis says truthfully. “Where did you hear that?” “Tell anyone this and I’ll kill you, but I’d consider myself a big fan,” Zayn says. His face doesn’t change in expression, completely serious as he admits this to Louis. “Big fan? Like run a blog and everything?” or, harry is a famous singer and louis is a student who just wants to write his novel

honey, honey (7k)

another sorority au that no one asked for - featuring squirt guns, copious talks of marriage, and more useless lesbians.

fall in love with the moon (and everything beautiful) (10k)

“It’s adorable that you think you can compromise with me on this,” Louis says. He places his hands on his hips and tries his best to look intimidating. “But I am not budging on this. Every book pun you say will result in one quarter in the jar.” “What jar?” Harry asks. He furrows his eyebrows together. Louis rolls his eyes. “Like a swear jar, but now I’m going to make yours ‘Harry’s dumbass pun jar.’ Maybe I’ll have you put a quarter in for every pun you say, not just the ones about books. Niall was right - you tell the worst jokes.” “One time Niall told me I’d never said a funny joke in my life,” Harry says casually. “Funny. He told me that too.” or, louis and harry work in a bookstore together and harry tells dumb jokes and they fall in love

get a little bit nervous (14k)

Liam goes to say something, probably something dumb, but he chokes on his spit, coughing loudly. The man in front of him is one of the prettiest people he’s ever seen in his life; he’s got thick eyelashes that fan out and frame his dark eyes and tanned unblemished skin. Liam forgets all of his previous thoughts. “You okay, mate?” he asks, concern filtering into his voice. “Yeah, yeah,” Liam says, still choking and coughing. “Sorry.” “We all reacted the same way we saw Zayn for the first time,” Niall says from next to him, laughter evident in his tone. “He’s a god, isn’t he?” or, ziam farmer's market au where liam, louis, and niall work at the produce stand, harry and zayn work at the bakery stand, and nobody's straight

i’ve heard it both ways (26k)

“I, uh.” Harry is scrambling, trying to think of something believable on the spot. He remembers the woman from reception and her phone call and says the only thing he can think of. “I’m a psychic.” Everyone stills. Zayn laughs, Detective Edwards looks confused, and the officer holding the door open looks mildly frightened. “A psychic?” Zayn gets out between his laughs. “I’ve heard it all. You’re definitely spending the night in the holding cell now. You’re wasting all of our time here.” an au based on the tv show psych where harry is shawn, louis is jules, liam is gus, niall is mcnabb, and zayn is lassie.

i just know you (got to taste like candy) (3.9k)

Harry seduces the cute cell phone repair girl with her phone's wallpaper.

i just want you to dance with me tonight (7.6k)

The sorority au no one asked for. Featuring a prank war, Lirry friendship, and useless lesbians.

beautiful wreck, colorful mess (4.4k)

Harry's been desperate to try out the toys she bought for her and Louis.

she says she doesn’t love me (don’t believe her) (17k)

Harry is a disaster gay who works in a coffee shop and Louis doesn't want to admit she's in love.

only you know me (4.5k)

“It’s just unfair.” Louis can’t help her complaining. “You always get these opportunities I would die for to throw parties. I’ve got, like, a billion siblings, so I never get the house to myself. You’re home alone at least three times a semester. Your parents wouldn’t even be mad or anything.” “That’s not even the point,” Harry says, calmly and evenly. Sometimes it’s frustrating to Louis just how easily Harry keeps her calm. “And what is?” Louis asks, throwing a goldfish cracker in Harry’s direction. It misses. “That I don’t want to.” - Based on the prompt, "Nothing really specific just a harry/Louis sleepover while Harry's parents are out of town involving sexy lady times? "

[horansqueen]

Stuck With You - Chapter 2

Chapter 2 : Suffocate (it’s 3am i’m drunk again)

🡪chapter 1

College Enemies To Lovers AU

characters // masterlist // instagrams // mood board 

So when you think you're all alone No one's help to come around Drop like flies and improvise And I know now that I will someday And I know that I will suffocate

                       I felt extremely lucky that we had a window. Not only was the sight interesting, but sticking my head out to feel the cool air from the night always made me feel better. I kept the lights closed, even if I normally don't particularly like to be in the dark, and lighted a vanilla and rose candle, making the smell invade the whole room. I didn't know if it would bother Niall or not, but he said he would probably not sleep here so I didn't worry for too long and just enjoyed my alone time until I heard a knock at the door. It was soft, almost timid, and the thought that it could be Niall's girlfriend, the girl that I had met a few hours before, made me hold my breath. I didn't want to answer but I finally got up and unlocked the door, opening it only slightly. I met Louis' eyes and my lips immediately curled.  He dived his hands in his pockets and moved his shoulders up in an embarrassed but cute way.

"Hey, you." he just said in a gentle tone. "Am I disturbing?"

He was, but I didn't care. Suddenly, the will to be alone all evening was replaced with the need to be with someone, someone like Louis. I had no idea why but somehow, I felt connected to him even if I had met him only a few hours ago.

"Mm no," I admitted, letting the right corner of my lips move up. "Are you drunk?"

His face scrunched up in grimace and I chuckled low. "Tipsy, more like." he confessed. "I was about to get in my room, saw your door, and here I am. I don't know why I knocked."

I let my eyes roam down on him then back up in his eyes. "Wanna come in? I'm alone."

He nodded and I moved away to let him in before closing the door behind him and locking it. I felt safer now that he was there but I was so used to lock the doors that I didn't even think about it. I showed my bed with a hand movement and he sat on it as I sat in front of him, leaning my back on my pillow. We stared at each other for a while and I licked my lips.

"So, how was the party?" I finally asked in a low tone, tilting my head a bit.

"Meh, boring." he admitted with a chuckle, turning around and leaning his back on the wall. "I knew you were alone, I saw Niall with his hands in some girl's pants. Can't remember her name to save me life. Hell he probably doesn't know her name either."

For some reason, his words made me laugh. "Why am I not surprised? He sounds like a total jerk."

Louis' smile turned into a sad one and he looked away, the back of his head pressed on the wall, and then looked back at me. "He's not a bad guy, trust me."

i didn't know Louis much but I did trust him... except with it came to my new roommate. Okay, maybe Niall was a good guy, I honestly had no idea. All I knew was that he irritated me to the point of wanting to jump on it and hit him in the face. The thought was violent and I would never do something like that, but Niall made something stir in my stomach, and not in the good way. I didn't hate him, I just wanted him to be as far as possible from me at all times.

"How did you two meet?" I just asked, making Louis' eyebrows raise. "He's your friend, isn't he? You seem to know him quite well."

The truth was, I could hear the affection he had for Niall in the tone of his voice and in the choice of his words. I was normally quite good to know how people felt. Was it nostalgia?

"We met when we were teenagers, became inseparable and both played for the football team of our school." he finally admitted, before sighing. "Then he busted his knee and I went professional. Sort of. That brought us apart, I guess."

I stared at Louis, a bit shocked that he would spill all of this to me because after all, he barely knew me, but somehow, it made me think that perhaps, he felt the same connection for me that I felt for him. Or maybe he was just drunker than he wanted to admit.

"Why are you here if you could make a career out of it?" I asked gently, trying not to be rude about it.

"Got in a bad place mentally." he replied after a while, staring in front of him without really looking at anything. "Then literally hurt myself physically."

I remained quiet, knowing it was probably a touchy subject, and waited until he blinked a few times and turned his head to me again, leaning it back on the wall.

"I'm sorry." I just whispered, making him smile sadly again.

"Don't be, love." he quickly replied in a low tone. "I'm good now, and I've always wanted to be a teacher anyway. Kids are cool. I have plenty of younger siblings so I know how kids work."

"Let me guess, P.E. teacher?"

He laughed and nodded, making me nod too and lick my lips. If there was one thing I hated in school, it was the gym class. I've never faked sick more than to miss this class and I didn't regret it one second.

"I hate sports." I admitted, raising my nose up. "Are you the type to work out and eat healthy and go to the gym 6 days a week?"

His face twisted in a grimace and I laughed louder than intended.

"No fucking way. I sort of had to when I played but now I just... no." I chuckled and we remained silent for a while before his lips curled into an other smile. "What about you, love? What are you studying in?"

"Art." I replied. "I pretty much do everything but painting is what I prefer. I know I won't be able to be a great artist and pay the bills with it but, I guess I'd like to work in museums. If you can't become an artist you can at least live surrounded by art."

"Why so defeatist?" he frowned, playing with the cigarette behind his ear. "You could as well live from it."

How could I tell him that I lost all hope and that I was too tired and scared to get back on my feet and try again? How could I tell him that I felt like a failure so obviously, everything I created felt like failures, too?

"Do you know many painters that made a living out of it?" I asked, raising my eyebrows, a bit amused. "Before their death I mean."

"To be honest, love, I don't know any painter." he laughed, making me laugh too.

"And I don't know any footballer."

His face lighted up and I pressed my lips together. "Well, I guess we have a lot to teach each other, don't we?"

I nodded and chuckled, still looking at him. It was weird to think fate had put Louis on my path and I felt so lucky that a sensation of warmth grew in my stomach. I've never thought that I could have a sister soul ever in my life but if I had to guess. i would say Louis really fitted the description. Of course, it seemed pre-matured to feel something like that for someone, but isn't that what sister souls were all about?

"So tell me darling, why did you change school in the middle of the year?" he said, asking the question I dreaded and making me look down immediately. I started playing with my fingers and licked my lips but he kept talking before I could answer. "You have to expect that question a lot, you know."

I looked up in his eyes, knowing he was right, but I just raised my shoulders. "It's a long story."

"You don't have to tell me." he quickly added, moving his upper body a bit closer to me.

"No, I don't mind, it's just-"

I could feel my heart beat harder knowing I was about to tell someone I barely knew everything that had happened to me in the past two years, as embarassing and pathetic asit was, but I didn't have time to talk : the door opened so roughly that it ended up hitting the wall in a light thud despite the doorstop. Louis and I both quickly looked up as Niall staggered in, pushing the door again to close it. He walked in the room slowly, lurching until his legs hit the side of his bed, and let himself fall on it before a laughter boomed out of his lips.

"Neil, you okay?"

"Stop fucking calling me that!" my new roommate let out.

Louis got up and walked to his friend as I watched, trying not to move at all. I didn't want to get involved in this and mostly, I didn't want Niall to notice me, I knew he was not happy to share his room with someone, especially not a girl, and I felt like getting his attention would remind him of how annoyed he was.

"Niall, come on, let me help you." Louis argued, trying to take off his friend's shoes as Niall moved one of his legs.

"Mommy Louis, I can do this myself." he groaned low, grabbing one of his pillows and throwing it. It passed between Louis and I, not even close to hit either of us, and Niall started laughing again. "What are you doing here anyway, Lou?"

I was surprised at how well he could express himself despite being so intoxicated but I remained silent as I watched Louis take Niall's shoes off and let them fall on the floor next to his bed.

"I was keeping company to your new roommate."

I held my breath as Niall turned his head to look at me. We stared in each other's eyes for a few seconds and once again, I felt like he could read me in a way no one else could and it made me swallow hard.

"Oh yea, I almost forgot about her." he let out with a chuckle. "Hello Devon, how was your evening?"

In his mouth, my name sounded dirty, almost smutty, and I felt a shiver run up my spine. This guy clearly knew what he was doing, even when he was drunk, and it bothered me.

"Did my best friend Louis make you feel better about yourself? Less alone? Did he mend your little broken heart? Did he-"

"Niall, shut up." Louis cut him with a sigh.

"Did that stupid girl you were with enjoy your tiny cock?" I just threw at him.

A silence fell as they both stared at me, eyes wide and an expression of surprise on their face, and at the same time, Louis' lips curled and Niall burst into laughter.

"Told you she was a cheeky little thing!" Niall let out, glancing at his best friend before laughing some more.

He finally sat up and I frowned as I looked at him and after a few seconds, he got up, wobbling slightly on his feet. It's only when he undid his belt that I realized what he was trying to do and so did Louis who simply pushed him back on the bed, making Niall laugh even harder.

"She doesn't want to see your willy, mate."

"Maybe she needs to see it." Niall argued, making Louis shake his head.

"Sleep." Louis replied, ignoring his comment. "You need it. We'll talk about this tomorrow."

Niall groaned and moved his hand near Louis' face to tell him to leave before turning around on the bed, now facing the wall. I watched the scene and when my eyes met Louis, he was rolling his. He walked up to me, bending down in front of me and licked his lips.

"Are you gonna be okay, love?" he asked in a whisper. "I can bring him in my room if you prefer."

I breathed in and stared at him for a few seconds. I had no idea why Louis was so nice with me but it was such a good change that I decided to just take it all in. I decided to accept his kindness and let it get to me, even if I knew it could easily turn against me and hurt me.

"No, it's cool. It's his room, too." I finally breathed, licking my lips. "I'll be alright."

Louis nodded a few times. "If you need anything, i'm not too far, don't hesitate."

I nodded and he sent me a smile before getting up and walking to the door. My gaze followed him and when he turned around, he winked at me and closed the door behind himself. I spent a few minutes just watching Niall's back and finally got up to lock the door and get changed. I tried to be quiet but when I finally lied down in bed in my sweatpants, Niall had turned around and was smiling at me. I felt my heart skip a beat, anticipating what he could say to me and I just pressed my lips, holding my breath.

"What?" I finally asked in a low tone after a few intense seconds of staring.

"Nothing. You're just... intriguing."

My eyebrows raised and my heart twisted in my chest at his words. Intriguing? What did that even mean? I always felt like a pretty ordinary person. An average girl who was not really good at anything. At some point in my life, I thought I was good at painting and not so bad at photography but then everything changed and the truth hit me right in the face. I was average and I would always be.

"Intriguing?"

"Yea. Why are you here? Who the hell are you?" he let out with a small frown. "And why do you..." he stopped himself and shook his head, leaving me wondering what he was going to say.

After a while, I filled my lungs with air again and blinked a few times. I was getting used to the darkness and could see the traits of his face quite well, even from so far.

"You're not gonna throw up, are you?" I just asked.

For some reason, I didn't want this discussion to end. Niall was right, I was lonely, and the presence of someone, even someone as annoying as him, was comforting. At least for tonight.

"Don't worry darling, I can hold my liquor. I'm irish."

"Oh yea. It shows." I let out sarcastically.

"Oh babe, you have no idea how much I drank." he chuckled. "Plus, I'm not even that drunk."

"You could barely stand on your feet when you walked in."

His nose raised up and he groaned. "I could walk on a straight line, want me to show you?"

"No!"

He laughed a bit and finally, his smirk turned into a small smile.

"Welcome to your new school and your new room, Devon Eaton."

---

I groaned when I woke up the next day and rubbed my eyes, turning around in my bed and throwing the covers over my head. I had forgotten to close the curtain and now. the sun was invading the whole room. It was sunday and I had planned to visit around if only to make sure I could find where I needed to go for my classes and not be late on the first few days. Now that it was time to do it, I didn't really feel like it anymore.

After a few minutes and a long sigh, I pushed the covers and sat up but when I turned around, I jumped, noticing Niall was staring at me. He started laughing again and I closed my eyes, trying to get my heart to beat at a normal speed again.

"That's fucking creepy."

"You snore." he pointed out with an amused smile. "Not very loudly but it's still quite disturbing. Has anyone ever tell you that you're annoying?"

"Me?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. "Unbelievable." I added under my breath.

"What's your plan for today?"

I looked up at him as he kept his eyebrows raised, waiting for my answer. I didn't want to tell him what I had really planned and I had no idea why he even asked me. There was no way in hell that he really cared. I thought about the conversation we had only a few hours earlier, when he was drunk, and it made me realize that he didn't even seem hungover.

"Staying as far as possible from you." I just replied, getting up and grabbing some clothes.

I could still hear him laugh after I closed the door to the bathroom and leaned my forehead against it to calm myself. I knew having a roommate wouldn't be easy but I didn't think it would be that bad.

I dressed up quickly, hoping that he would be gone when I was done, but when I opened the door again, he was still sitting on his bed, holding himself with his arms behind him and once again, that position made my eyes linger on him for a bit too long. I was expecting him to mention it but he didn't. Instead, he got up and walked up closer to me, passing his hand in his hair.

"Look, I'm sorry for almost showing you my cock last night."

"It's okay, no harm." I just replied, a bit taken aback that he would actually apologize.

He let his eyes roam on my face, studying me and I couldn't help but do the same. The blue around his pupils was so light I couldn't help but admit to myself that he was pretty, and I hated it.

"Perhaps, having you as a roommate will be entertaining." he added with a low chuckle. "More than I expected at first."

His lips curled more and he took a few steps back to reach the door. I wanted to answer something but nothing came up. My mind was blank. I didn't want to be entertaining to him or to anybody, really. I just wanted to stay under the radar, the way I couldn't seem to stay at my old uni.

"I'll see you tonight, maybe?"

He didn't wait for my answer and just left. That was the good thing about this : i knew I would have to put up with him only at night time, at least, most days, and I could completely forget about him when I was in class or with friends, if I could just make some. The thought started stressing me and Louis' face came to mind.

I stared at the door, staying in the silent room for a few more minutes before grabbing my phone. I didn't want to be annoying but I decided to just text Louis and ask him what he was doing today. Quickly, his answer popped up and made me smile.

'Spending the day with you, f'course!'

[atlafan]

My Everything - Part Nine

A Take it Slow Sequel

What happens with Harry and Y/N after he proposes? How will the two navigate the engaged life while also continuing to juggle their jobs, friends, and families? Let’s find out.

Warnings: Fluff and Smut! Get your tissues for all the feels! 

a/n: not proofread fam, I didn’t have the strength. This is 8900k.

Masterpost

Your bachelorette party was at a nice Air BnB up north. You wanted a simple, secluded weekend with your friends. It was just you, Rachel, and Sarah.

“Okay, so what are you most excited for, like, to be married?” Sarah asks. You were all sitting on a floor of blankets and pillows.

“To be able to call him my husband. Like he’s been my partner in life for almost three years now, but once it’s legal, no one can dispute it.”

“How soon after you get married do you think you’ll start trying for a baby?” Rachel asks. It was the question a lot of people had been asking you.

“Literally, the honeymoon.” You chuckle. “I swear he’s been counting down the days to not have to use condoms anymore.” You roll your eyes. “He acts like he still hasn’t stuck it in without one. I know it’s not as often, but still.”

“You know how guys are.” Sarah says. “They wanna feel every bit of it. You must be excited for the honeymoon though. Disney plus going to a little beach house?”

“I’m beyond ready!” You squeal. “I haven’t been to Disney World since I was like four.”

“We went on a family trip when I was in high school.” Rachel says. “It was so much fun. The food is like the best part, I swear. And the dole whips??? Holy shit.”

“I know! Harry and I have been watching a ton of videos on YouTube to prepare. We’re staying at the Port Orleans resort, we had seen that less kids stay there so it’s a little quieter. We watched a video of someone walking through the resort, it was so cool. We get to choose our fast passes soon, and all of our dinners have been reserved. It’s really cool.”

“Are you getting those bracelets?” Sarah asks.

“The arm band things? Yeah, they’re gonna come in the mail soon I think. Harry got a pink one, and mine’s blue.” You giggle.

“What do you think the beach house portion of your honeymoon is going to be like?” Rach asks.

“I have a feeling we won’t be leaving the bedroom much there. I truly think his main goal is to get me pregnant.”

“And he won’t try to do that in Disney?” Sarah asks.

“He might…think of Disney as like foreplay. It’s going to be really romantic and fun while we’re there, but he’s really going to give it to me at the beach house.”

“Do you think you guys like won’t have sex before the wedding just to build it up?”

“We may not have a choice. I was looking at my period tracker, and I’m supposed to get it like legit a week before the wedding. I know he doesn’t care, but I do. Besides, he mum and sister are going to be staying with us, so that’s a cockblock right there. We’re going to be busy running around getting last minute things together. We won’t have time for it.”

“That’s the biggest load of garbage I’ve ever heard of!” Sarah laughs. “The two of you have been like rabbits since you met. Niall and I have sex like once a week, maybe even every ten days. I feel like you and Harry fuck every night.”

“We do not! Maybe like twice a week.”

“If you’re not fucking you’re doing something else.”

“Is that a bad thing? Why do you and Niall only do it once a week?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “Just sort of how things fell into place. I’m not complaining, that’s plenty of sex for me. Although, if it were up to him we’d probably do it every night. I’m just not always in the mood, you know?”

“Me either.” Rachel says. “Like, sometimes when I go to bed, that’s all I wanna do. I’m not looking for any funny business.”

“I think that just happens when you live with someone for a while.” You say. “Before Harry and I lived together-“

“Don’t even start. You two were living together before you were even living together.” Sarah giggles.

“All I was going to say was that when you don’t live with someone you probably can’t wait to jump their bones because you haven’t seen them in a while. Once you do live with someone and the option’s always there it probably gets less exciting. I love having sex with Harry, but I’m not always in the mood, and neither is he. We’re both happy to just cuddle.”

“Yeah, but you two are one of those touchy couples that likes cuddling all the time. Sometimes if I’m on the couch just chilling, like, I may not even want to be touched.” Sarah explains.

“I think we can all just agree that we are all in very different relationships and that’s okay.” Rachel says. “We’re all happy, right?” You and Sarah agree. “Alright then.” She shrugs. “Nothing more to it than that. I’m glad you ended up with a guy that likes to kiss and touch you in public, Y/N. Everyone around you can feel the love.”

“Y/N…I don’t wanna be a Debbie Downer, but remember how much trouble Kate had when she thought her and Kev were gonna get pregnant right away?” Saray says.

“I know…” You sigh. “I’ve thought about that. I mean, it could easily not happen on our honeymoon, and I think that’s okay. If anything, it’ll just be the start of things, you know? It’ll happen when it’s supposed to happen.”

//

While you were having a peaceful weekend away with your friends, Harry had taken a little road trip to Mohegan Sun to do some gambling with Niall and Louis, yes, Louis flew in for the bachelor party. Harry had other friends he knew would have fun, but he also just wanted to do something sort of small with his friends.

The three of them enjoyed the bit of gambling they got to do, and the outrageous amount of alcohol they got to consume. Harry hadn’t drank much since you started your pills those couple of years ago, so he took full advantage of not having to worry about you.

The three went to some nightclub in the area to cut loose a bit. Harry usually didn’t like dancing like this if you weren’t there, but he was so beyond gone he didn’t really care. He was having a good time with his friends.

A group of girls had noticed them and kept coming closer and closer until they finally bumped into them.

“Do you guys wanna dance?” One of them says.

“Married.” Niall points to Louis. “Engaged.” He points to Harry. “In a fully committed relationship.” He points to himself.

“Sorry ladies, this is actually his bachelor party.” Louis tells the girls who were all frowning.

“S’not like he’s wearing a ring yet, right?” One of the girls says a little too cheekily for Harry’s liking.

“Right.” He scoffs. “As if I’d cheat on my fiancé with any of you.” He looks them all up and down. “Find some other idiots to pester, we’re here to have fun.”

He walks away from the group and goes towards the bar to grab some water. Louis and Niall follow him.

“Yeh could’ve sad that a bit nicer mate, they’re probably just drunk.” Louis says to him.

“I don’t care. I’m twenty-eight years old, do these girls think it would be so fucking easy to get into my pants?” He rolls his eyes. “M’too old for that shit.”

“What did you think was gonna happen when you wanted to come to a club?” Niall laughs. “We’re pretty good lookin’, in case yeh forgot.” He jokes.

“M’just sayin’, it’s annoying.” He sighs. “Do you think they’re all havin’ fun on their trip? Maybe I should call her, make sure they’re alright all alone.” Harry takes his phone out of his pocket, but Louis snatches it.

“She wouldn’t even be able to hear you in here, I’m sure they’re fine.”

“But I miss her.” He pouts. “Give me my phone!”

“You’re supposed to miss her.” Louis laughs. “You’ll see her tomorrow night.”

“Don’t care, gimme my phone.” He snatches it back and walks towards the men’s room where he knew it would be quiet. The boys follow him. He taps his phone to FaceTime you.

//

“What the…Harry’s FaceTiming me.” You show the girls.

“Answer it! It’s super late, I bet he’s drunk.” Rachel giggles.

You shrug and answer.

“Hello?”

“Hey! There’s my pretty girl.” He beams. There’s a slight slur to his words. You can faintly see Niall and Louis in the background.

“Are you in a bathroom?”

“Mhm.”

“Why?”

“So it wouldn’t be too loud to talk to yeh.”

“Where are you?”

“At some club near the casino. Some girls tried to pick us up, but don’t worry baby, we got rid of ‘em. I wouldn’t let anything happen.” You look at your friends who were trying really hard not to laugh.

“Just play along.” Sarah whispers. You look back at Harry.

“Oh good, I didn’t think you would, Harry.”

“I mean really, the nerve.” He scoffs. “You know what she said to me?”

“What did she say?”

“She said it’s not like I’ve got a ring on yet. Can you believe tha’?”

“Harry, I think your friends are waiting for you.” He looks behind himself and sees Niall and Louis about ready to drag him out of the bathroom.

“But I miss you…”

“I miss you too, but you’ll see me tomorrow night. It’s only been a couple of days.”

“I know, but I haven’t been able to sleep.”

“That’s fuckin’ lie and you know it!” Louis says. “If you don’t hang up that phone, I’m gonna tell your little fiancé about whose bed you’ve been sleepin’ in.”

The girls start laughing, and so do you.

“Seems like you already did.” Harry punches Louis in the arm.

“He’s right Harry, go enjoy the rest of your night.”

“I’d rather enjoy your tight cu-“

“Harry!” You blush. “Please…Niall, take his phone from him!”

“Can do!”

You hear rumbling and then the screen goes dark.

“Jesus, I’m so sorry.” You pinch your nose.

“No, it was cute.” Rachel assures you. “It’s sweet he misses you.”

“He’s certainly your first baby, that’s no mistake of that.” Sarah laughs.

“Between him and Buster, I’m gonna be a pro by the time I have an actual baby.”

//

Having Anne and Gemma in your home was less stressful than you thought it would be. They could watch Buster if you needed to run out and take care of something quickly. The wedding was only a few days away now, and you’d be going down early for the rehearsal dinner.

“So what’s the plan exactly, are you and Harry having separate rooms the night before the wedding, or did you say nuts to that?” Gemma asks you one morning.

“We have separate rooms, and then we have the honeymoon suite the night of. It’s really nice. We got to tour it when we first went to the inn. I have a room with the girls, and I’m pretty sure Harry is staying with Niall.”

“That’s sweet of you all to do that. He’s very excited.” She blinks away a few tears. “I can’t believe my little brother is going to be someone’s husband, it’s wild to think about. You sure you’re okay with havin’ another sister?”

“Aw, Gem.” You give her a little hug. “Lily, my brother’s wife, is the best sister in law, and I get along way better with her than I do my actual sisters. I’m very much looking forward to having another sister in law.”

“Good, it’ll be nice for me to have one too. I cannot wait to see your reaction to all of our suits when you walk down the aisle.”

“You’re wearing one too?”

“Mhm, I wanted to look the part. I’m pretty sure all the girls in Harry’s party opted for the suits, they were too pretty. Not that your bridesmaids dresses aren’t pretty. It was nice to have the option.”

“Suits are way more comfortable anyways.” You shrug. “I’m not offended in the slightest.”

Later that afternoon you make sure everything’s all packed up so you can head down to the inn. Harry drives your car with you, and gives the keys to his own car to Anne and Gemma. He wanted to just have time in the car with you and Buster before you’d be separated for the night.

“Tomorrow at 3PM, can you believe it?” He says to you as he grips your hand a little tighter.

“Was it worth the wait, baby?”

“Do you mean the nearly two years of planning the damn thing, or my entire life? Because either way, yeah, it was worth it.” He gives your knuckles a kiss. “What about you?”

“Same goes for me, either way, worth it.”

“You’re like calmest bride I’ve ever seen.”

“Harry, we’ve had so much of this planned, everything’s in place. Now all we have to do is get through this rehearsal, and the dinner. Tomorrow is going to be so much fun. I’m getting mani/pedi’s at the spa with all the girls, then we’re going to have our makeup and hair done. It’s all going to be great.” You look down at his nails peach colored nails. “I see you got yours done this morning.”

“Mhm, and don’t let the color fool you, it may not even match the suit.”

“I didn’t think it would.” You laugh. “It looks nice though. I love when you do the peach color.”

“I know you do.” He grins. “So, how do you think tonight’s gonna go?”

“I feel like I’m already going to tear up watching your mom walk you up to the gazeebo.”

“You better not cry already because then I’ll start crying, and you know how that goes.” You both laugh. “You know you still haven’t told me if you plan to take my name or not. The DJ’s going to announce us Mr. and Mrs. Styles…”

“I don’t know what I wanna do yet. I have time to decide, it’s just a matter of going to town hall to legally change my name. The process is just annoying. I’ll need a new passport, social security card, and then I’ll have to fight with IT at work to get my email, changed… guess in the grand scheme it’s not a big deal.” You sigh. “I also feel like I’m giving up part of my identity…I suppose I could hyphenate, but I’d still have to change everything.” You look at him for a moment. “Would it bother you a lot if I legally didn’t change it? I don’t mind people referring to me as Mrs. Styles, I won’t correct them…”

“I get where you’re comin’ from. I suppose if the shoe was on the other foot I wouldn’t wanna go through all the trouble either.”

“It’s not really anything personal either, I love your name.”

“I understand the identity thing too. It’s a lot to ask of someone. A lot of people don’t change their name nowadays. I guess I was just wondering out of curiosity.”

“Who knows, I may wake up one day be like yeah I wanna change my name.” You shrug. “Our kids will have your name.” You smile.

“God, I can’t wait to start makin’ babies with you.” His hand leans yours and slides over your stomach. “Just wait until I get in there, you’re not gonna know what hit you.”

“Harry, Jesus.” You pinch the bridge of your nose.

“I think I’m just excited we won’t be using condoms for a while.” He chuckles and moves his hand to your thigh. “You’re sure you feel ready for all that?”

“Yeah, definitely. Three years ago I wasn’t ready, but I’m almost twenty-seven, I’m ready. I want everything with you, babe.”

//

Harry was reluctant to leave you at your room with the girls when you got to the inn, but Louis and Niall were able to pry him away. Around 5PM everyone involved in the rehearsal showed up outside. It was odd practicing the very thing you’d be doing for real the next day. Your cantor stood next to Niall and went over what blessings he’d be reciting, and you tell him you’ll be the one stepping on the glass.

Once it’s all done, you all go inside to the restaurant of the inn to eat a nice dinner. Harry’s friends and yours were getting to know each other, which was really nice to see. Your parents were sitting at different tables so things seemed stable at the moment.

Both of your parents make a small toast, as does Anne. Once the dinner is over you realize you and Harry won’t be seeing each other again until tomorrow afternoon. He pulls you aside briefly while people are still mingling.

“Hey.” He says, cupping your cheeks.

“Hi.” You wrap your arms around his waist.

“I feel like a baby for sayin’ this, but I’m gonna miss you tonight.”

“Don’t feel that way, I’m gonna miss you too. Think of how nice it’ll be when we finally see each other tomorrow, though.”

“I know, I can’t wait to see you walk down the aisle in your pretty dress.” He presses his forehead to yours. “I think I’m gonna grab some drinks with the guys tonight. Is that alright?”

“Of course! You didn’t get to do the bachelor party stuff with all of them, please, go. Just invite my brother, dad, and brother in law, please.”

“I can do tha’.”

“And don’t FaceTime me when you get too drunk. I don’t need my family hearing you become vulgar with me.” You giggle.

“Oi, I resent that.”

“Y/N!” Sarah calls for you. “It’s time, girly. Say goodnight.” She smiles. You turn to look at Harry again and give him a good kiss.

“Time for what?”

“Oh, I know you didn’t think you’d be the only one having fun tonight. We’re having a party in our room for all the girls. Have fun with the guys.” You kiss him again before walking away.

A few hours later, and Harry was ready to call you, or text you, or something. He wasn’t even that drunk, he just hated the thought of sleeping by himself. Even though he was sharing a room with Niall, he’d still be left to snuggle alone. Buster was staying in your room with you. Louis had made sure to take Harry’s phone the second they got to the bar because he knew he wouldn’t be able to stay away from you.

“I just wanna text her.”

“Why?” Louis crosses his arms.

“I wanna see if it’s okay to come give her a goodnight kiss when we get back.”

“What if she’s asleep?”

“She’s havin’ a party of her own.” Harry gets frustrated and tries to find someone that’ll help.

He knew Niall wouldn’t be helpful in the same way Louis wasn’t. He finds Seth with Isaac.

“Bingo.” He says to himself and darts over to them. “Seth, can I borrow your phone. Lou won’t give me mine, and it’s an emergency.”

“Um.”

“Don’t listen to him!” Niall says. “He’s trying to call Y/N.”

“Harry, you can’t go one night without talking to her?” Isaac asks, half laughing.

“I think it’s sweet.” Seth says, pulling out his phone. “I’ll call her.” He grins. He finds your contact and taps to call you.

“Give me the phone.”

“Nope, I’ll talk to her…hey Y/N!”

“Hi! Is everything, shhh everyone I’m on the phone, sorry.” You giggle. “Is everything okay?”

“Oh sure, everything’s fine. Harry just had a question.”

“Okay…what is it?” Seth presses the phone to his chest.

“What’s your question?”

“Ask her if I can come give her a goodnight kiss later.” Seth makes a face like he’s about to cry because of how sweet Harry was.

“He wants to know if he can give you a goodnight kiss when we get back.” Seth hears you chatting with everyone in the room.

“I’ll allow it. Just have someone text me when you guys are on your way.”

“Can do.” He hangs up the phone. “You’ve been granted your kiss.”

“I don’t understand why I couldn’t have just asked her.” He rolls his eyes.

“Because yeh would’ve spent the rest of the night babblin’ on.” Niall says. “Now, can we go back to drinkin’?”

Around 11:30PM, everyone decided it would be best not to stay out late, so the guys head back to the inn. It was just you, Rachel, and Sarah in your room now. There was a knock on the door and you all giggle. You tie up your robe, and look through the peep hole to see Harry, Niall, and Louis in the hall. You open the door and slip out.

“If you two wanna wait inside while we say goodnight…” You gesture to the door, Niall and Louis moving to go inside. “You know you can just snuggle with Louis tonight if you miss me.” You laugh.

“No, he’s got a room with his own wife and child, remember?” He scoffs.

“So snuggle with Niall.”

“But I wanna snuggle with you, you’re so cute.” He grabs your hands and intertwines your fingers.

“You can snuggle me all you want tomorrow night.” You whisper.

“I’ll be doin’ a lot more than that.” He grins.

“You came here for a kiss, so let’s kiss.”

He leans down, and you can’t but smile as his nose brushes yours. His lips meet yours and you taste the beer he was surely drinking. His tongue peeks out to swipe across your bottom lip. You open up for him slightly. As he licks into you he pushes you up against the wall next to the door.

“Oop, we better get out there before he carries her off to our room.” Niall kisses Sarah quick before Louis opens the door. The second his does you push Harry off of you. “Alright, enough of that. You got your kiss.”

“You two are kill joys. Why’s it so wrong to be in love?”

“It’s not, mate.” Louis chuckles. “But it’s time to go to sleep. You two have the rest of your lives to love on each other.”

“Night, baby.” Harry pouts.

“Goodnight, I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You wave them off and go back into the room.

“Nice kiss?” Rachel asks.

“A very nice kiss.” You smile and get back on the bed with Buster. “I’m gonna be his wife tomorrow, I can’t believe I got this lucky.” You all giggle and squeal.

//

Somehow you and Harry were both able to get a goodnight’s sleep. You eat a quick breakfast and head down to the spa to meet everyone to get your nails done. Eleanor has a funny look on her face when she comes over to you.

“Everything okay?”

“Oh sure.” She chuckles. She adjusts Eliza May on her hip. “My hubby just got a booty call around 2AM last night.”

“You’re kidding!” You gasp.

“Seems as though his ass was the next best option to yours.” She sits down in the pedicure chair next to yours and cradles her little girl. “Lou’s thirty years old, I swear to god they act like teenagers around each other all the time.”

“It’s sweet though.”

“It is. I suppose it’s nice to see them breaking down toxic masculinity from the inside out.” She laughs.

“Harry’s a very cuddly sleeper, I should have let Buster go with him last night, but we were afraid he’d cry for me.”

“Like father like son.” She jokes. “Where’s the little guy now?”

“My brother picked him up the morning, he’s to stay with them for now.”

“Miss, what color for your toes?”

“Peach, pastel peach, please.”

Once your nails are done you all make your way over to the bridal suite. You were getting anxious. You wished you could just call Harry, even to hear his voice.

“I just need to pee before we get into the hair and makeup.” You say and go into the bathroom. You lock the door and turn the fan on. You call him. He answers on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Hi, honey.”

“Y’alright?”

“Mhm, just wanted to hear your voice.”

“You’re cute.”

“Can’t wait to see you in a little while.”

“Me too, I miss you. Missed yeh last night.”

“I heard you found a replacement.”

“I couldn’t help it. It was either that or break into your room.”

“You definitely did the right thing.” You giggle. “How’s everything on your end?”

“Pretty chill so far. My sister’s gettin’ her hair together, so is my mum. Think your dad’s more nervous than I am.” He chuckles. “Must be weird givin’ his youngest away.”

“But at least he knows I’ll be in good hands.”

“Oh, at the least.” You both laugh. “Uh, actually, she called me, so fuck off. Sorry, Mitch is givin’ me a tough time. Did you know what I’m clingy?”

“You?!” You fake gasp. “This is the first I’m hearing of it.” You both laugh. “I better go, they probably think I have like diarrhea or something.”

“Thanks, babe.”

“Sorry.” You laugh. “But seriously, I better go. I love you, I’ll see you soon.”

“I love you too.”

You hang up and go back out to everyone. You sit down in the chair so your mom can start doing your hair.

“Alright, so we’re pulling some of it up, and leaving the rest down, and you want to have bouncy kind of waves on the bottom?”

“Mhm. And remember to leave some pieces out on the top and make them look wavy, like how we practiced.”

“You got it.”

Once your hair was done, Rachel started doing your makeup. You made sure just to wear a zip up sweatshirt so you wouldn’t have to worry about lifting anything over your head when it came time to put your dress on.

You had picked out this beautiful grey for the bridesmaids dresses, and you told the girls as long as it was that color they could pick out whatever dress was most comfortable for them.

“You ready to put your dress on?” Erica asks.

“Yeah, um, Rachel and Sarah were going to help me get into it I think.” You didn’t want to risk your family seeing your nipple piercings.

Nannie comes over with the dress bag, and she unzips it to show you something.

“I had a slight alteration made, I hope you don’t mind.” Inside the dress, where your right breast would sit, was a blue t-shirt material sewed into the shape of a heart. “It was one of Papa’s shirts. I did the same thing for Erica. Now a piece of him will be with you all day.”

“Oh, Nannie.” You hug her and try to cry since your makeup was just done. “Thank you.”

Rachel and Sarah go into the bathroom with you to get you into your dress.

“You both look so pretty.” You say to them. “Great choices.”

“Your sisters looks nice too, and I love the one Eleanor picked out for herself.” Sarah says.

“It’s nice that everyone listened to me for a change.” You laugh.

“Alright, step into it.” Rachel says.

You step into the dress and put your arms through holes. The girls help button up the back. Rachel grabs your veil and puts it on you. They both step back to look at you.

“Holy shit.” Rachel says. “You’re a bride.”

“You look so beautiful, Harry’s going to lose his mind.”

“Really?” You turn around to look at yourself in the mirror. “Oh my god.” You whisper. “This really was the perfect dress, huh?” You giggle with them and leave the bathroom.

Everyone tells you how beautiful you look. Next up was for you to take all of the bridal photos. You wanted to get a good chunk of this done before the weddings so that the pictures afterwards wouldn’t take too long. Harry and the groomsmen should have already taken their pictures together, and he should have pictures with his mum and sister.

It was a beautiful day out, thank God. Mariah gasped when she saw all of you walk out. Rachel blew her a little kiss. You had a small bouquet of sunflowers and baby’s breath in your hands. She snapped a ton of pictures of you, the wedding party, you with your sisters, you with your mom, and you with Nannie, basically every combination of photo. It took over an hour.

“Okay, now we just need to go back in and wait.” You tell them. You take a deep breath as you walk back to the bridal suite. You just wanted to see Harry.

Guests were starting to arrive. Family, friends, you name it. Harry had invited a ton of his past clients that he was close with. Some of the ladies from work came as well. You were all waiting in a hall way. Niall was first to go out, and he wanted to see you beforehand.

“Hey.” You beam at him.

“Oh my god, you look stunning.”

“So do you.” You look his suit up and down. It was a solid baby blue. He had a floral pocket square. “It’s simple, I like it.”

“Just you wait until you see everyone else’s. We did something really cool.” He winks at you and makes his way down the aisle to the gazeebo.

He stands with your cantor just as they did during the rehearsal. Music starts to play. You smile at your brother who is about to walk your Nannie and mother down the aisle. You see all of the groomsmen walking towards you, lead my Louis, to line up with your bridesmaids. They each had a solid colored suit on, but each color was different. You were thoroughly confused, but you loved the concept. You wondered if each color was inside the suit Harry would be wearing.

“You all look wonderful.” You whisper as they line up. You look up at your dad and smile. “Almost our turn.”

Louis and Rachel walk out first, hooking their arms together. Then was Gemma and Sarah, Isaac and Eleanor, Mitch and Erica, and Sarah and Bridget. It all worked out perfectly. As they were making their way down, you see Lily walking up with Michael.

“He’s very excited.” She had Buster’s leash in her other hand. “I’m honored that I get to walk the dog.” She giggles.

“Thanks for doing it. Michael, you’re going to be the best flower boy ever.”

While all of this is happening, Anne walks up to the gazeebo with Harry. They hug and kiss before she goes to sit down. His suit was gorgeous. It was an interesting floral pattern, and it did have all of the colors each groomsmen was wearing. Lily walks Buster down the aisle as Michael walks down putting out flower petals. It was really very cute. Harry bends down and takes the rings from Buster’s collar, and hands them to Niall. He takes a deep breath. He knew Mariah and all of her helpers were getting great pictures, and every moment the two of you wanted would be captured. He looks over to where you’d be coming out next.

“Ready, honey?” Your dad says to you as he hooks his arm around yours.

“Mhm.” You smile.

The music changes, and everyone stands up to watch for you. Your eyes widen the second they fall on Harry. He looked incredible, beyond incredible. You were happy he kept his suit a secret. It was so very him. He immediately started crying when he saw you. He thought you were the most beautiful, breathtaking thing in the world. You both smile and laugh as your dad continues to walk you down the aisle. Harry steps forward to lift your veil, and you both beam at each other. He looks at your dad and then to you. You give your dad a hug before he goes to sit down, and you take Harry’s hand as you step towards the gazeebo. Niall wipes a few tears away himself before beginning.

“You both good?” He asks, making the two of you laugh. He hands Harry a tissue.

“She looks good, doesn’t she?” Harry jokes.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re both a work of art, okay? Let’s get this started.” You both laugh again. Neither of you knew what Niall was going to say, but it still had to wait. “Cantor?”

Your cantor says the few prayers you wanted him to. You and harry were facing each other, holding hands. You had told him what the prayers meant and why they were important to you. Once your cantor was done, it was Niall’s turn to speak.

“Love is a really weird thing. I honestly wasn’t sure what it was until I saw these two progress together. There are good times and bad, but the good always outweighs it. I’m not sure what it was, but I saw two people who I was very close with, living these separate lives, when I just had this feeling that they should be together. So, you two are more than welcome.” You hear people laughing. “Every relationship is different, and I think that’s the beautiful thing about love. It’s growing with some, and just becoming comfortable with how your lives are molding together. You two were pretty comfortable with that early on, how soon was it when you moved in? Four, five months?” You swat an arm at him. “None of us even thought to question you on it. There’s a gravitational pull between the two of you, there’s no denying that. Y/N, when Harry told me he was bringing you to meet his mum and sister that first Christmas you two were together, I knew he was going to marry you. I saw it all very early on. We went on a camping trip and he confessed to us that you were his soulmate.” You look at Harry. You couldn’t tell if he wanted to smack Niall or not, but he looked at you and nodded. “Basically, no one was going to get in his way on this. I had never heard my brutish friend speak so highly of a lady in his life before. And you. You had a new light in your life again. You came back into yourself. Needless to say, you make each other whole.” He clears his throat. “Now then, they happy couple would like to exchange their own vows before we get on with the rings.”

“Y/N.” Harry says after taking a deep breath. “In my wildest dreams I never thought I’d be standing here, marrying someone like you. From the very beginning I knew this was destined to be forever. There’s just no way I’d ever be able to let you go. I promise you that going forward, I’m never letting you go. I want every day with you, even if every day isn’t perfect.” His hands were shaking in yours. “I’ll be your partner no matter what. I know we can get through anything as long as we’re getting through it together. You’re my everything, always.”

“Harry.” Your voice nearly cracks and then you giggle. “When we met, I didn’t realize how much work I really needed to do on myself. You were so patient and understanding with so many things. I’ll forever be grateful for that. You allowed me to have that room to grow, and not everyone gets that kind of patience. I always want to give that to you in return. I feel like I’ve been able to become who I’m supposed to be because of you. I promise to always be your partner no matter what. Through the good and bad, through thick and thin, you’re my everything, always.”  

“Alright, I’ve got these rings here.” Niall hands you each one. You slide them on each other’s fingers. “M’not even gonna ask if there’s anyone here that doesn’t think these two should be wed because you’re crazy if yeh don’t.” You both laugh. “By the power vested in me, and the state of Massachusetts, I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may kiss the bride!”

You step on the glass under the small cloth just as Harry grips your waist to pull you in for a kiss. It felt so good to have his lips on yours again, even if it was brief. Everyone was cheering for you. You walk back down the aisle together, and the wedding party follows. Harry gets his lips on yours again the second you’re away from the crowd. You were down at the private area where more photos could be taken.

“You’re my wife!”

“You’re my husband!”

“Technically you both got married when you signed the marriage license last night.” Niall says.

“Shut up.” You hug him. “What you said was so beautiful, thank you.”

Mariah takes every picture possible. A ton of you and Harry, more of the wedding party, family photos, literally, every picture possible. Once all of that is done you and Harry go inside to wait for the receiving line to begin. You both knew you’d be jumping around to different tables, but you also wanted to enjoy your reception. The receiving line was an easy way to make sure you actually say everyone. It takes a little while to get through everyone, but you were happy you did it.

The DJ starts announcing the wedding party. You hold Harry’s hand when it’s your turn.

“And now, for the first time ever, Mr. and Mrs. Styles!”

You both come in and everyone cheers for you. Your song starts to play, You Make Me So Very Happy, and you dance with Harry. You were so impressed with him. The two of you had gone to get dance lessons together to make sure everything looked nice. He was the one that suggested it. He twirls you around a few times, and the two of you just have fun during your dance. Next up was Harry’s dance with Anne. You beamed as you watched them together. Her eyes were glossy, and she was radiating pride. You danced with your dad next. It was a really nice moment for the two of you.

Once all of that was out of the way, you and Harry were able to sit at your lone table to enjoy some salad for your first course. You had decided to have a plated meal instead of the buffet. It cost a little extra, but you thought it was worth it, and Harry wasn’t going to fight you on it. His business was booming and you had gotten another small pay bump, so you put it to good use. You guzzle down some water, you were so thirsty. Dancing was sweaty work. You also knew this would be the time where some of the speeches would start. Glasses started clinking as Louis stood up to give his speech.

“Right, so, Niall got to do all the sappy stuff before, thanks for gettin’ that out of the way, mate.” Harry sits back in his chair and crosses his arms. His grin forming. Louis loved when he had a microphone to speak into. Harry had given a really good speech at Louis’ wedding, so he had been waiting for this moment. “Harry’s been my mate and brother for what? Like, ten years? Has it been that long? We’re gettin’ old, lad.” Everyone in the room laughs. “Now, I’ve seen Harry through some ups and some downs. I’ve seen him at his worst and I’ve seen him at his best. I’ve seen him take his shirt off his back for someone, and I’ve also seen him absolutely pissed with his head in the toilet. He was there for me when both of my kids were born, hell, he held Eleanor’s other hand when Eliza May was born. I had to grow up pretty fast, and as much I loved Harry, I was sort of wonderin’ when he was gonna grow up, find a nice girl of his own. I met the lovely Y/N at a Halloween party. These two came in dressed like Charlie Brown and Snoopy. Not only was this girl extremely polite, but she could throw a drink back.” Everyone laughs as your face flushes. “Needless to say, I could tell right off the bat that Harry was smitten. I was shocked when he told me he had a girlfriend, and I was even more shocked a month or so later when he told me he was in love. He’d send me pictures of the two of you all the time and tell me about these little things that you’d do. He really did think you were cute, I have the receipts to prove it. When you’re close with someone, all you want is for them to be truly happy. You make Harry happy, and that’s all I could ask. I wish the two of you a wonderful, long life together.” He raises his glass as does everyone else. Harry gives your hand a squeeze.

“That was pretty good.” He says to you.

“Mhm.” You smile. Rachel clinks her glass next and stands up.

“Sarah and I wrote this together, just so everyone knows.” The room laughs. “Y/N, we were eighteen when we met. Yikes, we’re getting old too. Even though we were friends, I didn’t really get to know you until we spent that semester in California together. That was when I realized how special you were. Sorry it took me a year and half.” You both smile at each other. “Like any other girl in college, Y/N went through some wild phases, but she always kept her priorities straight. Sometimes it was hard to related to her since Sarah and I were both becoming teachers and she was going into the world of business and marketing. If there was something she wanted, she got it. There were a few weeks Sarah and I hadn’t seen Y/N so we called her up and told her it was time to have a girl’s night, so we did. That was when we found out she was sort of seeing someone. This guy, Harry.” You can’t help but giggle. “So, this guy Harry FaceTimes her, not even calls or texts, he makes the boldest move of FaceTiming her while we’re out, and she convinces him and his friend Niall to come out and join us. We weren’t able to get to know Harry that well right away, but we could tell something special was there. It took me some time to warm up to Harry. Believe it or not, it’s not always love at first sight with him. We had a really nice heart to heart. I’ll never forget that. Our friend group merged into one, and I truly feel like I could lean on Harry for anything. You’re one of my best friends now too. There’s no one else I’d want to see Y/N with.” She raises her glass and everyone follows.

“I’d like to just say something.” Harry says. “Thank you all so much for coming and supporting us. I love this woman with my whole heart and it was great to be able to stand up and say all of that in front of you all today. Dinner’s about to be served, so we hope you all have fun celebrating with us tonight.”

Everyone clinks their glasses, which is the signal that they want you two to kiss, and you do so. Dinner was delicious, just like how you knew it would be. People were going back and forth to bar and mingling.

“Are you done, babe?” Harry asks.

“Mhm, yeah.”

“Now might be a good time to make some of the rounds before we do the cake and all that. I know once you hear a song you like you’ll be on the dancefloor all night.”

“You’re right.”

You both start making your way around the different tables to say hi to folks a little longer. One of the serves comes out with your cake. You two delicately serve it to each other. Now was not the time to make a mess. You kiss each other and you both smile at the lemony taste. Everyone loved the assorted cupcakes as well.

The music started to pick up and more people started gathering on the dancefloor. You got right out there with your friends and family. You and Harry had worked closely with the DJ to craft the perfect playlist. You take turns dancing with Louis and Niall, while Harry dances with Mariah, then Sarah, then Rachel. He dances with his other friend Sarah and Gemma, and even makes the rounds to both of your sisters. You have a nice dance with your brother as well. Eventually you two come back to each other for a much needed slow song. You had just finished the Cha Cha Slide and you were pooped.

“Having fun?” He smirks.

“Tons, you?”

“Loads.” He leans in to kiss you quick. “You really do make a beautiful bride. I hope you know this won’t be the only time you’ll be wearin’ this dress. I’ll probably ask you to wear it a ton.” He pulls you a little closer.

“Same could be said for this suit. It’s gorgeous, and I love how you had everyone wear a different color that falls in it.”

“Thanks, I thought it would be different and fun. Noticed you got your nails painted the same color as mine.”

“I couldn’t help it, I wanted to match. It was like you were there to hold my hand while you physically couldn’t be with me, you know?”

“God.” He presses his forehead to yours. “When can we go to our room?”

“Harry.” You swat an arm at his shoulder. “We have like three more hours, easily, until we can do that.”

He groans just as a faster song starts to play. You gasp and run over to your friends. It was Yeah by Usher, you were long gone. It was a really fun night. People slowly started to filter out. The girls said they would bring all the cards and gifts people brought up to the room you slept in last night. Your friends had helped out to get everything into the honeymoon suite that you’d need. Buster would be sleeping with Niall and Sarah tonight. You were so grateful.

“It was perfect.” Harry says as he walks hand in hand with you to the suite.

“Mhm.” You cling to his arm.

“Oh wait.” He hoists you up so he’s carrying you bridal style. “Okay, stick the key in.” You giggle and does as he says. He gets the door open and carries you in. “Okay, now, I think this means we’re officially married.” He jokes.

“I don’t think that happens until we consummate.” You yawn as he sets you down on the bed.

“You tired?”

“Yeah, you?”

“Mhm.”

“I think after some sleep it’ll be better.”

“Agreed. Let me help you with all those buttons and what not.”

You stand up as he unbuttons the back of your dress. You catch the top so it doesn’t fall to the floor. You gracefully step out of it and hang it back up.

“These are cute.” He says, pinching your bum which was covered with white lace.

“Thanks.” You giggle, and go into the bathroom to take all of your makeup off.

Harry gets out of his suit and uses the toilet after you. You both crawl into the comfy bed and settle in together. You rest your head on his chest, and the both of you just feel at peace.

“Missed yeh so much last night, baby.” He squeezes you.

“I missed you too. M’glad we’re together now.”

“Me too.” He kisses the top of your head and yawns.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to drift off. However, you woke up around 4AM feeling very well rested. You had both gone to bed completely naked. You roll over to see Harry on his back, fast asleep. His lips parted and light snores coming out. You shift under the blankets and reach for his dick. This was something he had given permission for you to do. You could wake him up like this any time you wanted. You stroke him and you feel him start to get hard in your hand. His eyes flutter open and he looks over at you.

“So early.” He says with that thick morning voice you loved so much.

“I know, I just really wanna fuck my husband, would that be alright?” You tug at him a little harder.

“Fuck.” He groans. “Yes.”

He reaches for your hips and he pulls you on top of him. You grind down on him and his head rolls back.

“Jesus, did you wake up wet like this?”

“I must’ve been thinking about this in my sleep.” You kiss on his neck gently. The two of you promised not to leave marks until you were on your honeymoon.

“I can’t wait to get my hand around your throat in just a couple of days. And then I’m suck little marks all over your body.”

“Harry, please.” You groan as you grind against him again.

“Do we need to use a condom?”

“I’d like to until we’re in Florida, is that okay?”

“Course. They’re in my bag.” He points to it and you get off him to go grab one. You rip the blankets away and tear the foil open. You roll it onto him for him. “Love it when you do that. Showin’ me who’s boss a little bit?” He smirks.

“As your wife I just know there are things I need to do to please my man, but sure.” You shrug. “I’ll be the boss.” You grin and straddle him.

You line his tip up with your center, and you slowly sink down on him. You both moan from the contact. It had been almost two weeks since you two had been intimate with everything going on and you had just gotten over your period two days ago. You both needed this.

“How are you still so tight after all this time?” He grunts as his fingers press bruises into your hips.

Instead of giving him a verbal answer, you lean down and suck his bottom lip into your mouth. You grind up and down on him. He thrusts up into you, getting in nice and deep.

“Fuck, Harry.” You groan against his neck.

His hands slide around to your ass to move you faster on him. Your chest was rubbing against his, and you snake a hand between the two of you to rub your clit.

“Y/N.” He moans, his head rolling back into the pillow.

“I’m so fucking close, oh my god.”

You press your forehead further into his shoulder as he thrusts faster into you. You bite down on his collar bone, and you end up coming at the same time. You rest on him while you both catch your breaths. He cups your cheeks to pull your face back to his. He kisses you, pressing his lips hard to yours.

“Okay, now we’re really married.” You both giggle as you pull off him.

“I’ll let you take care of that.”

“Oh, so you can roll it on, but you can’t take it off?” He smirks as he sits up.

“Nope, that’s your mess, my doll.”

You both clean yourselves up and get back into bed. You had a couple more hours before you needed to be up, after all. Harry spoons you, and you both drift back off.

//

Later that morning everyone cheers when you and Harry come down for brunch. You can’t help but giggle, and Buster comes running towards the two of you.

“I feel so bad, he’s not gonna see us for like…two weeks.” You pout as you pet him.

“He’ll be in good hands.” You both sit down with your friends.

“Yeah, he’ll be with us for a few days, and then with Rachel and Mariah, and then with Seth and Isaac.” Niall says. “Lots of family time.”

“When do you two leave for Florida?” Eleanor asks.

“Tomorrow morning.” You smile. “Our flight’s at like eight. You can check in on your phone so you can get your room a little ahead of time. And we’re doing that thing where we’re letting them take our bags so they’ll be in the room for us by the end of the day. And we’re taking the bus to the resort. They have it down to a science.”

“I feel like that would be a really fun friend group trip some time.” Sarah says.

“Please, these two are gonna start poppin’ kids out the second they can, it’ll be years until we can do that.” Niall jokes.

“Louis and El have kids, we’ll probably be next, maybe that just means you all need to catch up.” You smirk.

“I have plenty of kids at school.” Sarah puts her hands up. “But maybe Rachel could be next.” She giggles.

“Plenty of kids in homes that need adoption.” Rachel says as she smiles at Mariah.

“So with you two on vacation does that mean you won’t be pestering me for photos right away?” Mariah laughs.

“You better send us some or you’re fired.” Harry jokes and the whole table laughs.

You look up at him and smile; you never felt luckier.

For reference: Here is what I imagine Y/N’s dress looking like: 

And here’s photographer!Harry’s suit:

[fateology]

witness my brain rot. tma raven cycle au but i haven’t looked at trc in many years so probably even more of a mess than it fundamentally is as a concept

martin blackwood as BLUE SARGENT

this is a pretty obvious choice since i casted jon as gansey already. fox way women include jane prentiss/annabelle cane/agnes montague, who all raised him as a spooky polycule. helen is there also opening doors in his bedroom when he needs boy advice (she is not to be trusted)

he is also the number one aglionbyphobe in town. comes very close to spitting on jon during their first meeting, which is a great coincidence, because jon, too, was dying to spit on him

they work it out though but only after many books of disdainful co-adventuring

his dad may or may not have been a tree

jonathan sims as RICHARD GANSEY

what is he looking for? glendower? jonah magnus’ corpse? probably jonah magnus’ corpse. when he was eight he nearly died after being attacked by i dunno a very large owl but he heard A Voice and survived. now he will not stop until he finds that buried old shithead

picks up friends like they’re fun rings. he’s not even that sociable so no one’s really sure how it happens

sits awake in monmouth every night with gerry/melanie and builds little cardboard panopticons that he sees in his dreams. why is he looking for the corpse of jonah magnus? unclear. he sure knows a lot about the man though

owner of a terrible horrible car that martin has definitely succeeded in spitting on at one point. the car is an extension of his soul so it was the next best thing

georgie barker as ADAM PARRISH

certain about this because georgie could so be an adam. aglionby is co-ed here so she can hate from within the club. the number two aglionbyphobe, she would be number one if not for the fact that she actually is in aglionby, which bumps her down one spot

begins a very intense rivalry/mutual interest with this other awful girl jon’s acquired as a friend aka wtgfs as pynch!

later on she gets psychic lessons from fox way ladies. scries in the aglionby girls toilet by plugging the sinks when she should be in latin class

(georgie, eyes black: WHAT DID MELANIE KING GET ON HER GATSBY ESSAY. AND WAS IT HIGHER THAN ME

cracks in the porcelain, rearranging: 89

georgie: FUCK)

melanie king as RONAN LYNCH

she is one half of two ronans because i split ronan into two parts. she’s ronan prime. the number three aglionbyphobe. rouser of tempers, flouter of school rules, breaker of nose bridges

she and jon are friends because she broke his nose in phys ed after he ran into her on accident

super into the other awful girl jon’s acquired as a friend, will not admit it even to herself. proceeds to have four books worth of angry dreams about it

drives her dead father’s swanky car around all the time because what is the raven cycle about if not driving your dead father’s swanky car around all the time. brotherless, except for gerry, who is basically her declan. they’re both greywarens and the worst kind of bffs

gerard keay as RONAN LYNCH, DOS, or DECLAN LYNCH, LITE

gerry is also a lynch sibling except that he’s both declan and ronan somehow

mary is niall and eric is aurora. instead of grieving for mary’s death gerry goes frolicking in the hills out of sheer joy (ABOUT TIME! and with a TIRE IRON no less! this is everything he’s dreamed of)

but also eric is dream-asleep except when he’s in the forest...what was it called...cabeswater. so not a full win. cabeswater was a keay/king team effort

anyway gerry greywaren indulgence 💖 he would do great with a raven on his shoulder. he was the one who brought jon to the nurse after melanie broke his nose, providing jon with the absolute coup of two awful new friends in one day. fast forward some months and gerry’s bunkbedding with melanie in monmouth

lots of gay rivalries (4 to be specific) and gay car races, which brings me to the next thing,

mike crew as JOSEPH KAVINSKY

except less of a douchebag and more of an asshole. primarily because the witch at the middle of the figurative bog of my prolonged tma brain rot is gerrymike. actually this would be tma dream thieves au if i’m being honest

lichtenberg figure = mike’s dream monster. mike does the counterfeiting thing mostly with rare books because he’s looking for something to exorcise the lichtenberg from his dreamscape.

that feeling when your family is rich as balls and you are functionally or genuinely an orphan and also you can manifest objects in your real life from your sleeping brain. nothing to be done about it except have some homosexual car races with your rival who happens to be sexy and a goth. once more, driving your dead father’s swanky car around all the time.

his dream pack includes jude perry/michael shelley/mikaele salesa except it’s not His dream pack because he doesn’t have the kavinsky ringleaderitis and they’re just weirdos who hang out together and occasionally do dream narcotics

sasha james as NOAH CZERNY

classic. the secretly been a ghost all this time! got #murdered years ago so she’s glad that her friends don’t seem to mind. everyone just thought she was like anemic or something.

depending on where you began the story it was about sasha james...was more when she was alive etc etc.

definitely was a skater. got beat to death with her skateboard by her best friend who was also quizzically named sasha

timothy stoker as HENRY CHENG

i don’t think i have to say much but yeah. he’s gerry’s fourth gay rivalry. wildly aglionby-popular which is honestly not something he should be proud of (he knows this)

constantly getting dunked on by all of jon’s friends but he can dunk back just as good which is a relief for him

embroiled in a mystic dynasty of his own thru his mom but way more well adjusted about it than gerry or melanie (they dunk on him to cope)

hobbies include toga parties and joining other peoples relationships (aka jonmartim as sarchengsey)

no real plot to all of it because i can’t figure out who’s who in terms of antagonists. all of them are jonah magnus wearing different people’s skins probably

[1dffchallenges]

Boundless As the Sea

Written By: @wokeuptired​

Characters: Niall/Bea

Summary: There's nothing Beatrix Madison finds as silly as Romeo and Juliet, but Niall Horan's a sucker for a love story—even though his own has gone off the rails. When he finds a letter from Bea's grandmother dated half a century ago in the wall below Juliet's balcony, he has to write back. He doesn't expect anything to come of it, and he certainly doesn't expect to find himself going head to head with Bea. 

Author's note: The title is from Act 2, scene 2, when Juliet, on her balcony, says to Romeo, "My bounty is as boundless as the sea, / My love as deep. The more I give to thee, / The more I have, for both are infinite." 

Warnings: enough f words to earn an R rating

One - Bea

For as long as she could remember, Beatrix Madison’s grandmother had never taken lunch without a glass of wine. White, red, sparkling, it didn’t matter, so long as it was alcoholic and complimented the dish. So when Bea arrives for lunch today and sits down at a table devoid of wine glasses, she knows instantly that something is up.

There’s water waiting for her, and a cup of tea that Gran always orders for Bea even though Bea never drinks it. That’s their weekly ritual: lunch every Thursday at Gran’s favorite restaurant, the same meals every time, same table, same waitstaff, and same cup of tea that Bea will never, ever, drink.

The only thing out of place today is the missing wineglass that always sits beside Gran’s plate. Nothing seems amiss about Gran herself: her gray hair is piled primly on top of her head, her lips are touched with a pale mauve, and her cardigan is neatly buttoned all the way up. She’s Gran as always. Except for the wine.

“Is everything all right?” Bea asks, sliding her phone underneath her thigh so that she can give her grandmother her full attention. That’s another one of Gran’s things: she hates cell phones at the table as much as she loves wine. She hates them so much that she didn’t even have one, instead relying on a landline that she often fails to answer.

“Of course, dear,” her grandmother answers. Though she’s coming up on her 75th birthday, Gran certainly doesn’t look it. Nothing has slowed her down, not even taking on the responsibility of raising Bea from the time she was 9, after her parents’ death in a car accident. Gran was in her mid-fifties at the time, looking forward to retiring and traveling and a life free of responsibility, and then life saddled her with Bea.

Now, coming up on 80, she seems to be thriving, which is something that Bea does her best not to be too upset about. It wasn’t her fault her parents died, leaving her grandmother to raise her, but Bea feels guilty about it nonetheless, even now that she’s 25 and hasn’t been a burden to Gran for several years.

“Eat your salad,” Gran says just as a waiter appears and sets it down in front of her.

Bea picks up her fork and stabs at a tomato, misses, and spends another ten seconds chasing it around her plate before she catches it. When she puts it in her mouth and looks up, her grandmother is watching her.

“Are you sure everything’s alright, Gran?” Bea asks again. Her heart clenches, thinking of the worst. “What’s wrong? Are you sick?”

“Of course not,” her grandmother says, smiling. Bea can’t remember the last time she saw her grandmother smile this much. Something is definitely going on. Maybe Gran has mastered a new banana bread recipe or purchased a new piece of art for the hallway and she’s eager to show it off. Yes, that’s probably it. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong. Tell me about your date on Friday. Did it go as expected?”

Bea grimaces. It was much, much worse than expected. “Not at all. He was twenty minutes late and then spent another twenty minutes talking about his ex. And he was wearing far too much cologne.”

Gran laughs. “You’re far too picky, Bea Bug. Maybe that’s your problem.”

“No, I don’t think that’s it,” Bea says. “He really was awful, Gran. You’re lucky you’ll never have to meet him.”

“Mmm.” Gran’s eyes twitch to the side, where Bea notices an envelope sitting on the table. She also notices that her grandmother has barely touched her own salad, dressing on the side, just how she always orders it. “Speaking of love…”

“Speaking of love?”

Gran touches the envelope and slides it across the table towards Bea. “Fancy a trip to Italy?”

“Italy?” Bea turns the envelope over. It’s addressed to Gran at her estate just outside London, which, if you’re old and snooty, is what’s known as “the family seat.” It’s the house that Bea will begrudgingly inherit someday (hopefully not someday soon), along with all the accrued debt that will come with it. She slips her finger under the flap, which has already been unsealed, and finds a folded letter and another, smaller envelope inside.

“Juliet” is written on the outside of the envelope. Bea opens it and takes out the letter it contains.

Verona, 1965

Juliet, I don’t know what to do. I’m meant to leave tomorrow to return to London, where Robert is waiting for me. We’ve been betrothed since we were teenagers, and he is my destiny, the one I’ve always known about.

But now there is Alessandro, whose dark hair shines under the moonlight when I sneak out after dark to meet him. I feel like a teenager again, not like a university student months away from graduation and marriage. Alessandro makes me feel invincible. He makes me feel like I am worth the world.

Oh, Juliet, what would you do? I know what you’d do. You’d pack up your suitcase and run away with Alessandro tonight. You’d leave behind your destined life in England and choose a new destiny for yourself.

But what if, Juliet, what if I’m not brave enough?

Yours,

Carolyn

Bea reads the letter through a second time, her mind spinning. Finally, she raises her eyes from the wrinkled piece of paper and meets her Gran’s gaze. “Gran, did you write this?”

Her Gran smiles, nods. “Years ago, yes. Now you must read the other letter.”

Oh, God. What could it possibly be? Is it from Alessandro, writing to Gran after all these years, asking her to return to Verona and marry him? Did he find out that Gramps passed away ages ago and is regretting all the years he spent away from Gran?

And then another thought pops up, this one worse than all the rest. Gramps died just before Bea’s parents, which meant Gran was a free agent… until she had to take over caring for Bea.

Oh, God, Bea thinks.

Did I keep Gran away from her true love for 25 years?

Bea shakes off the question, for the moment, at least, and unfolds the remaining letter, keenly aware that it is about to turn her life upside down.

   Two - Niall

It’s a strange thing, how you can go from being engaged one moment to being completely unengaged the next. Engaged, and then you’re not. Your whole life planned out, and then—nothing. Blissful, empty, beautiful nothing. 

Rhiannon had gone from Niall’s favorite person on earth to his least favorite overnight. Or maybe it wasn’t overnight: he didn’t wake up, feel the sun breaking through the blinds, and realize that he needed to break off his engagement. But it only took a second for Rhiannon to react to the suggestion that maybe getting married wasn’t the best idea, and Niall knew he’d made the right choice. 

“Oh, thank God,” she’d said. They were having dinner at their favorite restaurant in Seven Dials, which was to say, Rhiannon’s favorite restaurant and a place that Niall had neither particularly negative or positive feelings about. She’d started telling people it was their favorite restaurant, and then it became too late to correct her, and now they’d been going there at least once a month since the early days of their relationship. 

Niall didn’t intend to initiate the breakup there, at their so-called favorite restaurant, but he was watching Rhiannon peruse the menu just as he had the month before, and he knew she was only moments away from ordering for him, and in his mind he imagined doing this for the rest of his life, and he knew he couldn’t. He just couldn’t. 

And Rhiannon had reacted better than expected. She’d always been a bit of a dramatic person, so he’d been prepared for her to throw down her fork and storm out, or at least raise her voice a bit. But instead she thanked him. 

“I’ve been meaning to say something for ages!” she’d said. “But you know how my mum is. Which is why we can’t tell anyone.” 

“I—what?” Niall had been reasonably confused. The whole point of ending their engagement was so they didn’t have to still be engaged. He did not want to pretend. 

“Our Italy trip. My mum’s already paid for it, and if we tell her we broke up, she’ll cancel the whole thing, and you know how much I’ve been looking forward to it.”

Right. Niall knew. She talked about it constantly, was constantly texting him pictures of places she wanted to see and restaurants she wanted to try. He was not looking forward to three weeks of following her around a country where he didn’t speak the language, eating too many carbs. 

But as he’d looked in her eyes that night, the night that should’ve been their last together, he figured he could do her this one last favor. He could stick it out for another month, spend three weeks with her in Italy and then be done with it. 

So that’s how he’d ended up here, sitting on a bench in a square in Verona, staring up at a balcony purported to be the one from Shakespeare’s famous Romeo and Juliet, even though Shakespeare never even traveled to Italy. Rhiannon ditched him this morning, boarding a bus for a wine tour in the countryside that he had absolutely no interest in. Instead, he caught a walking tour and ended up here. 

This bench is apparently his new home, as he’s been here for three hours and, try as he might, he just can’t get himself to move. He’s fascinated by what he is seeing: girl after girl, and even the occasional guy, shoving letters into the loose bricks under the balcony, tears running down their faces. The tour guide had said that people came here from all over the world to leave letters to Juliet, begging her to fix their love woes. 

A while ago, someone had left a notepad on Niall’s bench after finishing their own letter, and someone else had discarded a pen on the ground. Niall had spent half an hour staring at it, feeling as if it was beckoning him. No one needs love advice more than him right now. He’s probably the only one in this country on vacation with their ex-fiancée and zero desire to win her back.

Now, finally, he stills the pen after spending twenty minutes spinning it between his fingers, and he begins to write. 

Dear Juliet,

No offense, but I think your story is a load of bull. Love isn’t real, and it certainly wasn’t real for you and Romeo. You were only 14 years old, and neither of you made it out alive. That certainly isn’t the kind of love I want. 

So what do I want? I’m not sure, but I know it isn’t Rhiannon. I thought I loved her once, but I know better now. I know that I just wanted to be in love. I just wanted someone to spend evenings on the couch with, to go to the cinema with, to introduce to my mates. Rhiannon was all of those things, but she was also annoying and difficult and after a while, not very much fun to be around. She made me forget what I once liked about myself. 

Is that what love is, then? Someone who makes the things you like about yourself shine like neon? Someone who brings out the best in you, like they say in all the films? 

Does such a thing exist? I guess I’ll just have to keep looking. 

-- Niall Horan

London, England

When he finishes, he folds it up before he can think better of it and approaches the wall, looking for a good spot to stick it. It’s nearing sunset, and the wall is bursting with letters shoved here and there, crammed into every visible crack. If he can’t find room for his, how will anyone who came tomorrow find a place for theirs? 

He turns, looking at the other visitors to the wall. A few feet away, a teenager presses a kiss to her envelope before jamming it underneath a loose brick. Further down, a woman takes a letter from the wall and drops it in a basket. Wait—she’s taking a letter from the wall? Niall inches closer.

Yep, that’s definitely what she’s doing. She stretches onto her tiptoes to grab a letter just above her head, and when she can’t quite reach it, Niall steps forward to pluck it from the brick for her. 

“Grazie,” she says, smiling at him and holding out her hand for the letter. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome,” Niall says. He holds the letter hostage for a second, though. “Are you stealing the letters?” 

The woman laughs. “Stealing? No, of course not. We write back.” 

“You write back?” Niall turns his own letter over in his hand and considers throwing it away. He didn’t realize someone would read it. 

“Yes.” The woman slips her basket over her arm and holds out her hand. “I’m Sonia.” 

“Niall.” She reminds him a bit of his mum, with soft smile lines around her mouth and light eyes. That must be why he returns her handshake.

“Nice to meet you, Niall,” Sonia says. “Would you like to help?”

Would I like to help? Niall repeats the question in his mind. On the one hand, he’s absolutely shit when it comes to love—the letter he’s hiding behind his back right now is proof enough of that—but on the other hand, he doesn’t have anything else to do. 

“Sure,” he says. “I’d love to help.” 

   Three - Bea

Verona is full to the brim with tourists, something Bea should’ve been expecting. She’d deluded herself into thinking that since it wasn’t Florence or Rome or Venice, it’d be quieter, she’d be able to wander the streets and appreciate the cobblestones and worn door knockers without bumping into American tourists, but she was wrong. 

American tourists are everywhere, and Japanese tourists and French tourists and Indian tourists, huge groups of them wearing matching lanyards and giggling as they clog the narrow roads, and Bea regrets this entire trip. 

She’s regretted the decision to come since the word “yes” came out of her mouth, but once she saw Gran's smile, there was no going back. This was something Gran had been waiting years for. 

Not that they’ve talked about that. Bea’s just turned it over and over in her mind, convincing herself that she’s held her Gran back from living a full life with the hot Italian man she loved when she was twenty years old. She can’t begrudge Gran her chance at happiness now. 

“Mi scusi,” Bea mutters, pushing her way through a crowd of American teenagers. She’s just slipped out of lunch with Gran, telling her she was running into a store they’d passed to get a gift for her boss, and her time is limited. Now she’s going to have to do what she intends and duck into a store for a gift in the time it would take to do only the latter. 

The alleyway ahead is crowded, which is a good indication that Bea is approaching her target: the house where the women who respond to Juliet’s letters meet. After reading the letter in the envelope and agreeing to Gran’s insane Italy plan, Bea had done a quick Google search, just to understand what she was dealing with. 

From what she found online, the letter writers seem harmless, for the most part—just middle-aged and older women who like indulging the whims of lovesick teenagers. Teenagers being the key word. Gran isn’t a teenager, though—she’s a grown woman with disposable income and the ability to pick up her life and bloody move to Italy if she so chooses—and Bea needs to let these letter writers know just how much damage they’ve done. 

Particularly N. Nancy? Natalia? Nicola? Bea will waste no time finding out when she arrives. N is the one who answered Gran’s letter, encouraging her to abandon her life and seek out her lost love, potentially setting herself up for heartbreak. Heartbreak again, because her heart was already broken once, 55 years ago, when she returned to England to marry Bea’s grandfather instead of running away with Alessandro. 

What if’s are dangerous things, N had written, suggesting that it was better to avoid them at all, if one could help it. It was better to go after the things you wanted, even if those things might end up disappointing you.

This is not, suffice it to say, Bea’s life philosophy.

Bea passes the courtyard where all the tourists are gathering beneath Juliet’s balcony and makes a left. There is so much potential chaos ahead, so Bea rolls her shoulders back and focuses on the things she can control. First on the list, giving this N a piece of her mind. 

At the end of the alleyway, Bea stops in front of the door that has a knocker shaped like an envelope. She’d read a description of it online, but there weren’t any photos: the letter writers like the anonymity, she gathered, of having a headquarters with no address. Bea smiles, proud of herself for locating it, and knocks. 

A second later, the door opens, revealing a woman with dark hair and pasta sauce on her apron. “Bonjourno?”

“Hello,” Bea says, playing the odds that this woman speaks English. She grabs the letter out of the back pocket of her shorts and holds it up. “I’m looking for the writer of this letter.” 

“Hmm.” The woman frowns and holds her hand out for the letter. 

Bea hesitates. What if the woman doesn’t give it back? What if she destroys it because Bea’s breaking some unspoken rule by coming here? Maybe Bea shouldn’t hand it over. 

“It’s alright,” the woman says, seeming to sense Bea’s reluctance. “I’ll just look at the signature, and then you can have it back.”

Bea nods, handing it over. 

“Ah,” the woman says a second later, returning the letter to Bea. “He’s here today, actually. You’re in luck. Please, come in.”

He? But Bea doesn’t have time to think it through as she follows the woman into the house. They pass through a narrow corridor and emerge into a dining room, where ten people sit around a table covered in letters. Piles of letters, baskets full of letters, letters everywhere. It reminds Bea of that scene in “Harry Potter” when Harry’s letters from Hogwarts burst through the fireplace. It’s complete chaos.

“Niall, she’s here for you,” the woman says. A man with dark hair seated at the far end of the table looks up. 

“For me?” he says, standing up and walking towards her. He has some kind of ridiculous, cartoon character accent.

“You?” Bea stares at him. This is impossible. This entire thing is impossible. It’s a dream, this all has to be a dream, that’s the only reasonable explanation. She clutches the letter in front of her like she’s warding off a demon. “You wrote this letter?”

Niall nods. He’s taller than her and wearing khaki pants, which, she decides, is the strangest thing about him, the whole writing-letters-with-old-Italian-ladies thing notwithstanding. An Irish, khaki pants-wearing, letter-writing, heart-breaking demon.

“I did,” he says. “But I take it you’re not the recipient?” 

“Of course not,” Bea says roughly. “I’m her granddaughter whose life has just been entirely upended because of this letter, because my Gran has dragged me all the way to bloody Italy to try to find this bloke she loved 55 years ago, who might not even still be alive, and it’s your fault!” 

Said bloke, instead of taking responsibility for his actions, smiles at her. He fucking smiles at her. 

“Carolyn is here?” he says. “That’s excellent. Can I meet her?” 

That is so not what Bea was expecting to hear, so it takes her a moment and a bit of sputtering to muster a sensible response. “No, of course not. Absolutely not. That is not happening.” 

“Okay,” Niall says, nodding slowly, his smile lessening slightly. “I’m sorry to have inconvenienced you, then. It was nice to meet you.”

“It wasn’t nice to meet you!” Bea snaps before turning and rushing from the building before she can say anything else. 

Jesus H. Christ, she thinks as she reenters the alleyway and slides around another group of tourists. Could she have been any more embarrassing? She’d had a whole speech planned out—she was going to tell the letter writer, who, yes, she’d assumed would be a woman, how irresponsible it was to respond to a letter from 55 years ago, knowing it was possible and even likely that she’d be upsetting the balance of someone’s life. She was going to lay it out simply and with such biting and intelligent language that the letter writer would be begging at her feet for forgiveness by the end of it. 

Instead, she’d responded with a comeback worthy of a ten year old on a playground and run away in shame. 

Best not dwell on it. Next mission: buy the first tacky gift she sees and get back to lunch. 

Seven minutes later, snow globe bagged in her hand, Bea slides back into the chair across from her grandmother. 

“Sorry about that,” she says, over-exaggerating her breathing to make it seem like she’d hurried back. “The line was crazy! This was the perfect gift, though, so I couldn’t let it get away.” 

“Of course, dear,” Gran says. “I ordered dessert while you were gone. I got you tiramisu.” 

“Thanks, Gran.” Bea smiles. Good old Gran, always taking care of her. Even now that she’s a full-grown adult, capable of ordering her own food and embarrassing herself in front of strangers all by herself, her Gran is still helping her along. “After lunch, do you want to—”

“Carolyn?” 

Bea whips her head around and, oh, crud, he’s followed her. He strides up to their table like he’s been invited and extends a hand to Gran. 

“I’m Niall,” he says. “I wrote the letter.”

“Oh!” Gran grabs his hand and uses it to pull herself to her feet, though Bea isn’t sure that’s what he intended. “It’s so nice to meet you! Thank you so much for your letter! Please join us.”

“Are you sure?” Niall says, putting a hand on the back of the empty chair. He looks at Bea, an eyebrow raised. “Bea invited me, but I really don’t want to intrude.” 

Bea raises an eyebrow right back. The nerve of him, this Irish bloke with bright blue eyes and the audacity to upend her grandmother’s life and butt in on their lunch. How rude. How inconvenient. How inconvenient and rude. 

“You’re not intruding. Please, sit!”

“Thank you!” He sits down right next to Bea as Gran flags over the waitress and orders three cups of hot tea. Niall will probably drink his, the bastard. 

   Four - Niall

An hour later, Niall has the full story and plans for at least the next two days. Caro, as she likes to be called, invites him to join her and her granddaughter on their Alessandro hunt, and who is Niall to refuse? Especially when it seems to be driving Caro’s granddaughter—Bea is her name—so crazy. 

It’s been a long time since Niall’s had the pleasure of annoying a beautiful woman, and he’s not about to pass up an opportunity to continue doing so. 

“You’re sure you don’t have other plans?” Bea asks for the third time, her voice so high-pitched that Niall wonders if she’s stopped breathing. 

“No, definitely not,” Niall says, taking a sip of the tea that Caro ordered for him. Very polite, she is. “My, um, fiancée is off on a wine tour for the next few days, so I’m free.” 

“You’re in Italy with your fiancée and you want to spend your vacation going on a snipe hunt with us across the whole countryside?” 

Caro laughs. “You’re so dramatic, Bea Bug. It’s hardly the whole countryside, just one region. And a snipe hunt, what nonsense!” 

Niall grins. He likes Caro; she has a pleasant voice and speaks warmly, as if it’s a pleasure to be listened to. “I’d love to join, if you’ll both have me.” 

“I don’t think—”

Caro cuts Bea off. “Of course we will. It will be our pleasure.” 

“It will be my pleasure,” Niall says. Bea scoffs. 

Back at his hotel room that evening, Niall waits for Rhiannon to return from today’s food tour with a ball of anxiety swirling around his stomach. This is something he probably should’ve discussed with her before he agreed to it, right? Or maybe not. Now that they’re no longer engaged, they don’t have to clear things with each other anymore. Niall can do what he wants, when he wants. He can make decisions for himself without considering how they’ll impact anyone else.

So it’s a force of habit, then, that has him sitting in the armchair next to their bed—the bed they’re sharing, though it feels more like sleeping next to a friend than an ex-lover—and picking at his cuticles. He keeps glancing at the door, waiting for the moment Rhiannon is going to burst through. She’ll have acquired at least two bottles of wine on her bus tour, a slight sunburn on the tip of her nose, and, he’d bet 10 quid, plans for dinner with a new American friend.

Twenty minutes later, there she is, red-faced and smiling, exactly as he expected.

“Oh, Niall, you weren’t waiting for me, would you?” she says, setting her bags down on the bed. “I’ve got plans with my new American mate for dinner. We’re absolutely dying to try this place near the Piazza delle Erbe. I hope that’s alright? You can come with us, if you’d like.” 

“That’s okay,” Niall says. “Actually, Rhi, there was something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Sure.” Rhiannon flips open her suitcase and begins digging through it, throwing a pair of shoes on the floor, and then another. She’s looking for a particular dress, he expects, one that will show her new American friend just how London cool she is. “What’s up?”

Niall contemplates how to explain. Best to keep things as simple as possible, he reckons. “I met some people today and they invited me to travel with them for a couple of days.”

“Hmm?” Rhiannon finds the dress she was searching for and smiles at it triumphantly before picking up her makeup bag. “A few days? That sounds nice. Travel where?” 

“Around Verona, to some of the vineyards and smaller towns.” That sounds truthful enough, doesn’t it? There’s no need to mention Caro or the letter or Juliet’s balcony, and there especially isn’t any need to mention Bea, the granddaughter whose sass and long legs make Niall’s blood boil. 

“Sounds like fun,” Rhiannon says. She looks up from her makeup bag, a tube of mascara in her hand, and smiles at him. Crazy how that smile used to make him smile in return, and now it does nothing to him. “Teresa, that’s my new American mate, wants to take the train out to Venice for a day or two. Should we touch base in a few days?”

“Oh,” Niall says, feeling strangely hurt by this information. He’d expected Rhiannon to be upset, or at least slightly inconvenienced by the plans he’d made that did not involve her, and instead, here she is, with Niall-less plans of her own. Would she have even told him about her plans if he hadn’t brought up his first? He doubts it. 

As soon as they’d landed in Italy, Rhiannon had taken off her engagement ring, sealing it into the inner pocket of her makeup bag. 

“I’ll give it back to you when we have our staged breakup, when we get back home,” she’d told him. 

Some bit of Niall, some deep, ego-driven bit of his soul, had been hoping that Rhiannon was using this trip as a ruse to win him back. She didn’t want to break up, not really, so she conned him into coming on the trip with her so she could prance around in skimpy summer wear and lure him into loving her again. 

He didn’t want to love her again, of course, but part of him, that ugly, prideful part, wanted her to want him to lover her again.

It didn’t make any sense, he knew that, and it wasn’t until Rhiannon took off her ring that he realized he was being tremendously silly. But part of him still aches, even now, a week later. 

A breakup is a rejection, even a mutual breakup. As Niall was rejecting Rhiannon, she was rejecting him right back, and part of him, though he’s loath to admit it, is hurt by that. This conversation has just reinforced those feelings.

“Sure,” Niall says, attempting to shake off the emotion welling in the back of his throat. “We’ll touch base in a few days. I’m leaving in the morning, so you can check out of the hotel whenever you’d like.” 

Rhiannon smiles. “Thanks for being so understanding about all this, Ni,” she says. “Coming on the trip and everything. You really didn’t have to do all this for me.” 

Niall shrugs. “I’d be crazy to turn down a free trip to Italy.”

   Five - Bea

“He should be here any minute, dear.”

Bea looks up from her phone and resists the urge to roll her eyes. “Great,” she says. “I’m eager to get on the road.” 

Eager is a bit of an exaggeration. Bea knows she would’ve been crazy to pass up a trip to Italy, even a trip with her grandmother, but this is far from ideal. Their travel companion is as far from ideal as one could get. 

But this matters to her grandmother, so Bea will suck it up, put her best face forward, and pretend she likes the Irish bloke. 

Well, she’ll at least pretend to tolerate him. 

As they wait, Bea begins to develop a list of things that she doesn’t like about Niall, just to fill the time. First, he doesn’t care about anyone aside from himself: he didn’t give a thought to how his letter would cause upheaval to Gran’s life (or the lives of those around her) before he wrote it. Second, he hides his evil tendencies under a charming appearance, complete with sweet blue eyes and a homey accent and well-fitted shirts. Gran, bless her heart, will never discover just how disingenuous he really is. 

But Bea knows. And, she decides, it will be her mission on this trip to make sure that Gran realizes it. 

She’ll have to do it subtly, though. Very subtly—no big speeches or yelling, or Gran will realize what Bea’s trying to do, and she will not be pleased. She’ll pull Bea aside and scold her just like she did when Bea was a child on the playground, cutting other little kids in the queue for the swings.

“Oh, there he is!” Gran says now. “Beatrix, look!” Niall is climbing out of a taxi at the end of the hotel’s round driveway. He accepts his bag from the driver in exchange for a couple of folded bills and steps out of the way so the car can leave. 

Bea considers him as he pauses and adjusts the roll of his shirtsleeves—they’re cuffed just above his elbows, which is definitely not attractive in any way—before he grabs his duffle bag off the ground, swings it over his shoulder, and turns towards the building. Even the way he walks is infuriating, all jovial, like he doesn’t have anywhere he’d rather be.

Bea can think of a thousand places she’d rather be.

Gran waves instantly. “Niall! Over here!” 

Bea forces a smile onto her face as he approaches. He’s smiling too, though it dulls significantly when his eyes meet hers. 

Go away, she attempts to communicate through her glare alone.

Over my dead body, she imagines his glare answering.

“Good morning, Caro, Bea,” he says. “Are you two ready to go?” 

“Yes, certainly,” Gran says. “We’re so excited to have you joining us. Bea will drive. Bea, can you help Niall with his bag?” 

“Of course—”

“That’s not—”

Bea and Niall speak at the same time, meeting each other’s eyes in a staring contest of wills that ends when Niall looks away and picks up his bag. 

“Pop the trunk, would you please, Bea?” he asks. 

Bea grits her teeth and complies. This is going to be a long, long few days.

Five minutes later, they’re all in the car, Gran and Niall chatting as Bea tries not to grip the steering wheel too tightly. Driving has never been easy for Bea. She’s always worried about what the other drivers are going to do. Will someone merge into her lane without signaling, leaving her little time to brake or merge out of their way? Will someone run a red and bash into her car? There are so many things that can go wrong, and none of them are in her control. 

Which is why Bea has remained in London, even as so many of her mates moved out to the suburbs. In London, you don’t need to drive. You take the Tube or an Uber or a taxi to get where you want to go, and you never have to worry about having enough petrol or parking illegally by accident and getting a ticket. 

Driving in Verona is nearly as bad, or maybe worse, than driving in London, Bea decides as yet another taxi driver forces his way in front of her car. She grits her teeth again; her dentist is not going to be happy with her. 

“Macbeth is my favorite,” Niall is saying, and, were Bea less focused on the road, she would pipe up to tell him how wrong he is (Hamlet is obviously Shakespeare’s best work), but as it is, there’s nothing she can do. She comes to a stop at a red light and forces herself to take a deep breath, in through her nose and out through her mouth. 

“Make a left at the next signal,” the Apple Maps robot voice chirps from her phone, which is clipped to a vent on the dashboard. 

Fuck you, Bea thinks, gritting her teeth. She can see the next intersection, and a left turn there isn’t going to be easy. Protected lefts do not, apparently, exist in this country. The light changes and Bea eases into the intersection. The car in front of her appears to be looking for a parking space, but the entire block is packed on both sides of the street.

“Gah,” she huffs, letting out a breath. 

“Don’t forget to turn left up ahead, Bea bug,” Gran says.

“Got it, Gran.”

Bea takes another calming breath, but she feels anything but calm.

   Six - Niall

Bea is the most tense driver Niall has ever witnessed, but that shouldn’t surprise him, considering how tense she is as a human being just existing. They’ve only been in the car half an hour, but from the looks she’s sending him in the rearview mirror, he’s sure she’s thought about ways to kill him at least half a dozen times.

Before they got in the car, when he pulled her aside so he could tell her the address of their first Alessandro, she looked at him like she wanted to murder him. Not just murder him, but chop him into tiny pieces and scatter him about the Italian countryside.

If Caro wasn’t in the car as well, he’d probably already be dead. She’d flip the car off the side of the road and land them in a field full of grazing cattle, where, if he by some miracle didn’t die in the crash, he would be licked to death by cows. 

“What was it you studied in uni, dear?” Caro asks him, drawing his attention away from Bea, who absolutely doesn’t care what he studied in uni. 

“Political science,” he says. “But I’m a journalist now.” 

Bea scoffs. “Of course you are,” she says quietly. 

Caro either doesn’t hear or decides to pretend that she didn’t. “That’s wonderful. What do you write?” 

“Human interest, mostly,” Niall says, which is the simplest way of saying, I spent six months shadowing a homeless encampment on the South Bank last year. “My last piece was published in The Guardian, but I freelance.”

“Oh, how freeing!” Caro exclaims. “Bea, you should consider that. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to have no boss? No schedule! You could have as many vacation days as you wanted! And no one would shake his finger at you and tell you to work harder.”

Niall tries not to smile as Bea’s grip on the steering wheel tightens.

“Gran,” she says, her annoyance obvious to Niall, but Caro keeps on smiling. “I don’t think you can teach primary school from your sitting room.”

“Oh, poo,” Caro says, swatting her hand in Bea’s direction. “I’ve always told you that you can do anything you set your mind to, Bea bug.”

Bea bug? There’s a lot to grab onto in what’s just been said, but Niall’s not an idiot; he knows that teasing Bea about her Gran’s nickname for her would not be the smartest move right now. She is in control of the car, after all. So he goes for the second lowest hanging fruit.

“You teach primary school?” he asks, trying and failing to keep the surprise out of his voice.

Her glare in the rearview mirror nearly burns him alive. “Yes,” she says through gritted teeth. “I’m goddamn delightful.”

Niall can’t hold back his laughter at that. “I’m sure you are.”

“All of the children love her,” Caro says, turning in her seat slightly to look at Niall head-on. She’s apparently missed the hint of sarcasm in his last statement. “She sings the sweetest songs for them. I knew those piano lessons would pay off someday, but I certainly didn’t imagine Bea would use her talents to entertain five year olds.”

“They’re seven, Gran,” Bea corrects.

Caro waves a hand and continues. “You’ve a beautiful voice nonetheless, dear. You really do spoil those children. Perhaps we can convince you do sing for us tonight after dinner.”

Niall looks from the pride on Caro’s face back to Bea, who looks more annoyed than she has all afternoon. Her grandmother goes on and on about how all the parents positively adore her and how Caro knew she was destined to be a teacher since she was a child herself, and Bea seethes.

She’s seething. That’s the only way he can think to describe the way she keeps her eyes steady on the road and her grip tight on the steering wheel and a perpetual frown on her mouth. His gaze traces the slope of her sharp nose and the indent of her cheek that suggests, were she to smile, a real smile, she might have a dimple.

Dimples. On this girl. This stubborn, tempestuous, argumentative, always frowning girl. Preposterous.

Dimples, he supposes, would make her almost appealing.

But as of now, she’s nothing but a nuisance. She probably thinks the same of him, though, he supposes. As Caro continues to sing Bea’s praises, much to Bea’s chagrin, Niall reaches into his backpack and pulls out the notebook where he’s made some notes about the mysterious Alessandro Bianchi. Based on Caro’s letter and some details she’s filled in for him, he has determined the following:

1. Alessandro would be about 80 years old now, as he’s a few years older than Caro.

2. He is likely still in the Veneto region of Italy, as when Caro knew him, he was set to inherit the family lands and winery.

3. He rides horses.

4. He is, in Caro’s words, “the handsomest man I’d ever set my eyes on.”

It’s not a lot to go on, and there are some major issues. The Veneto region first of all, is massive: nearly 5 million people live there, and it stretches all the way north to the Austrian border. Niall’s hopeful Alessandro is still in the province of Verona, a much smaller area that only has a million people.

That’s still a million people to sort through, though. From some database searches on his laptop last night, Niall turned up a list of Alessandro Bianchi’s from that million and then narrowed down by age. His smaller list contains 50 names, smaller in comparison but still a huge number when one is driving around the country going door to door.

There has to be some way to narrow the names further. Niall pulls out the list, which he printed in the hotel business center, and, when there’s a lull in the conversation, passes it up to Caro.

“This are the Alessandro Bianchi’s I’ve found,” he says. “I know the list is long, so I’m hoping you know something else that can help us narrow it down.”

Bea glances sideways as Caro examines the list. Niall’s distracted by her mouth, which has morphed from a frown into something sadder, more regretful. Intriguing.

What’s she hiding? he thinks.

But that’s not a question for now.

“Does anything stand out to you?” he asks Caro. She slides her reading glasses up her nose and moves the paper closer to her face. “Anyone look familiar?”

After a moment, she shakes her head. “I don’t suppose this list comes with photos?”

“Unfortunately not,” Niall says. “It’s a combination of property ownership and voter registration, but it’s not one hundred percent reliable, since people move and don’t change the address on their licenses and such.” 

“Of course,” Caro says. She lowers the paper to her lap and pulls her glasses down, allowing them to hang around her neck. “It was rather silly of me to expect this to be easy, wasn’t it?”

“No—” Niall begins, but Bea cuts him off.

“You’re not being silly at all, Gran,” Bea says. She reaches across the center console to take Caro’s hand. “Alessandro is important to you, so we will find him. With or without Niall’s help.”

“Thank you, dear,” Caro says, squeezing Bea’s hand. “But since we’ve got him here with us, we should absolutely take advantage of Niall’s help. He is a journalist, dear, don’t forget.”

Niall is certain that his occupation has done nothing to endear him to her, if the look Bea gives him in the rearview mirror is anything to go by.

“Take the next exit,” the GPS chirps, drawing Bea’s attention away. He misses the fire in her gaze immediately, and that unwelcome realization occupies his mind for several minutes—seriously, what the fuck, brain—until the car turns up a winding dirt road and comes to a stop in front of a cute, if modest, country house.

“This is the first address,” Bea says, voice completely devoid of excitement.

   Seven - Bea

“This is the first address,” Bea says, but what she’s thinking is, this cannot be the first address.

The house is, she supposes, cute enough, but it’s run-down. It hasn’t seen a fresh coat of paint in decades, the steps leading up to the porch are crumbling, and the house’s facade is covered in overgrown vines, the kind that slither in cracks in the plaster and make their way into the pipes and destroy everything.

“Let’s get out, then,” Niall says, already opening his door and climbing out of the backseat. He opens Gran’s door for her and helps her out, so Bea has no choice but to follow. She pockets the car keys and follows them up to the front steps.

“Should we knock?” Gran asks, looking from Bea to Niall and back to Bea. Bea can see a bit of nervousness in her gran’s face, and a hint of timidness. It’s strange, seeing it there; it’s not an emotion Gran normally expresses. Gran is always in control, taking the lead, charging headfirst into battle, Bea trailing behind her. That’s how they ended up in Italy, .

But right now, it seems like Gran needs Bea to take the lead. So she steps forward, planting herself between Niall and Gran, and puts a hand on Gran’s shoulder.

“What do you want to do, Gran?” she says in a tone she hopes is gentle and encouraging. She squeezes Gran’s bony shoulder and tries not to think about how much of Gran’s life she’s spent alone, dreaming of her lost love. “Do you want us to knock?” 

Gran’s hand drifts to her neck, her fingers playing with her necklace. It’s a thin gold chain, gifted to her, Bea knows, by her husband, Bea’s grandfather, who died before Bea’s parents did. She wonders what Gran is thinking. Is she concerned about being unfaithful to her deceased husband? Is she regretting her marriage to someone who wasn’t Alessandro entirely? Or is she simply nervous about the possibility of seeing Alessandro again after so much time has passed?

“Gran,” Bea says again. “We can stay here as long as you need.”

Bea can feel Niall’s eyes on her, but she ignores him. He shouldn’t even be here; he’s intruding on a private family moment, no matter what Gran says to the contrary. But at least he’s smart enough to be keeping his mouth shut right now.

“No, that’s alright,” Gran says, dropping her hand from her necklace and shaking her head. “I’m being silly. We came all this way, and it’s probably not him. We’ll have wasted a trip if we don’t find out for sure.”

Bea looks up, toward the front door, but on the way, her gaze runs into Niall’s. He’s frowning slightly, like he’s confused. She wrinkles her nose at him, and he grins. If he weren’t so annoying, it might be cute. He might be cute.

“Okay, Gran,” Bea says, slipping her hand into Gran’s for a squeeze. “Let’s go, then?”

“Let’s go,” Gran repeats. She takes a step, then hesitates. “Niall, will you do the honors?”

“Me?” Niall meets Bea’s eyes, his eyebrows raised, but she’s just as surprised as he is. Niall is a guest here—and barely that. He’s an interloper. But Gran wants what Gran wants. Bea shrugs.

Bea watches with bated breath as Niall climbs the battered steps to the house and knocks on the door—twice, and then a third time, louder. She counts the seconds, waiting.

Eight.

Nine.

Ten.

Eleven.

Twelve.

Finally, the door opens.

The man is backlit by the sun as he steps outside, so it takes a minute before she can see him fully. Dark mustache, suspenders over his shoulders, tan shirt, and a face that’s much, much too young. He can’t be Gran’s Alessandro.

Gran asks anyway, though, drawing on her rusty Italian to ask for Alessandro Bianchi. The man shakes his head.

“It’s not him,” Gran says quietly, tugging on Bea’s sleeve. “He says no one with that name has lived here for years. Decades.”

Bea looks back at the man, who is standing on his front porch looking irritated, like the knock on his door has interrupted his entire day.

“Grazie, signore,” she says, allowing Gran to tug her back to the car, Niall following behind.

As she starts up the car and waits for Gran and Niall to decide where they’re headed next, Bea analyzes her feelings. Annoyance, of course, at Niall for being present, and a smidge at Gran for dragging her all the way out here. Frustration at the poor infrastructure of Italy’s backcountry roads. And—wait, is that disappointment?

Yes, Bea admits to herself. It sucks to strike out this early in the game. It sucks that Gran has spent so many years without Alessandro, and now she’ll have to wait even longer to find him. And what if they never find him? How long will they keep looking? How long will Niall follow them around the country, riding in the backseat and running new Google searches to grow their list of possibles?

Bea looks at Gran, who has pulled her gray hair back in a low ponytail at the nape of her neck to get it out of the way while she compares Niall’s list with a paper map. Gran, who has weathered so many storms. Gran, who has carried Bea through the worst of them.

Gran, who has bounced back from this disappointment like it was nothing.

So Bea will do the same. She will put on a brave face and input the next address Niall gives her into the GPS app, and she will force herself to be hopeful that this Alessandro will be the one they’re looking for.

And if that one’s not him, she’ll hope the same for the next Alessandro.

And the one after that.

   Eight - Niall

After they scratch three possible Alessandros off the list, they stop for the night at a boutique winery hotel buried in a valley. It’s dark by the time Bea parks the car, but Niall expects that the surrounding countryside will be beautiful in the morning. Maybe he’ll wake up early and watch the sunrise, notebook and pen in hand, knowing he’ll never have words enough to describe its beauty. Back in college, he took a poetry class and tried his hand at some sonnets, but it was never really his thing.

Maybe now it will be, though. He’s only been in Italy a week and a half, and he’s already done things he never expected to do. Write a letter to a fictional character, for example, and join a girl and her grandmother in the search for a long-lost love.He’s been surprising himself for a while, actually, ever since he made the decision to end his relationship with Rhiannon.

Rhiannon. As Niall unloads the bags from the car, he wonders what she’s doing right now, who she’s spending her time with. Rhiannon has never had trouble making friends, and neither has Niall. That’s one of the reasons they were so good together. At least, that’s what he used to think. He also used to think that any time spent away from Rhiannon was wasted time, but now he knows better.

Today was not wasted, despite three failed attempts to find Caro’s Alessandro. The first man was too young and not named Alessandro anyway, the second man was far too old, and the third was a woman who was completely aghast to find out that she was misnamed and misgendered in the census data. Caro kept in good spirits, always positive in the car, but Niall could tell that her energy was waning. And Bea, meanwhile, was growing more and more annoyed with every grape vine they passed.

Now, as Niall walks the ladies to their rooms, it’s obvious that Bea is ready to be rid of him. Caro hugs both him and Bea goodnight outside her room, whispering, “thank you for being here” in Niall’s ear before she lets him go. Bea takes off down the hall, clearly in disagreement with the sentiment.

“I told you I could carry my own bag,” Bea scoffs when Niall reaches her door. He rolls her suitcase to a stop and chuckles as she grabs the handle, eager to have it back in her possession.

“What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t help you with your bags?” Niall asks.

“You’re no kind of gentleman.”

Niall raises an eyebrow. “I can carry your bag back out to the car, if you’d like. Then you can wheel it in yourself.”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Bea huffs. “You’re so infuriating.”

She turns around, sliding her keycard into the door and pushing it open. Niall grabs her suitcase again and passes it to her as she goes into the room. She flips on a lightswitch, illuminating the space behind her, but Niall doesn’t pay any attention. He’s too fixated on Bea’s face.

She has light brown eyes, the color so diluted that he wonders if they might actually be green, or maybe blue. And the sweep of her nose, the pout on her lips as she frowns at him—God, she’s beautiful. She’s the kind of beautiful where it’s not the first thing you notice about her, but once you notice it, you can never stop seeing it. From now on, she’ll be beautiful every time Niall looks at her, every minute he thinks about her, every second he spends looking at her from the backseat of the rental car.

“Thanks for the help, I guess,” she says to him now, one hand on the door handle.

“You’re welcome,” he says. He steps forward without thinking, needing to be closer to her. “I can let you handle your own suitcase next time, though.”

“Thanks for that, too. But I meant, thanks for being here, for helping with Gran. This is really important to her, and I’m grateful to you for taking her seriously and respecting what she wants.”

“Of course,” Niall says. “She’s wonderful. And this is such a great story. Why wouldn’t I want to help her find Alessandro?”

“I don’t know. Because I’m not sure I do, maybe.” Bea looks over his shoulder, not meeting his gaze. This is hard for her to talk about, and it’s probably even harder for her to talk to him about it. “She loved my granddad, I know she did. If she finds Alessandro again, will her love for him cancel out her love for my granddad? And where does that leave me?”

“The same place you’ve always been.”

Bea’s eyes meet his; she’s startled, surprised that he answered her questions. Or maybe surprised that she was speaking out loud in the first place.

“Your gran loves you the same no matter what,” Niall continues. “I can see that every time she looks at you. That’s not going to change, no matter what happens with Alessandro. And her love for Alessandro won’t change how she loved your granddad. Someone can have two great loves in their life, don’t you think?”

It takes Bea a few seconds to respond, like she’s catching up with what he just said. “I don’t know. If that’s true, then what are all the stories and poems about? What’s Romeo and Juliet about?”

Niall asked himself that question days ago, looking up at Juliet’s balcony just like Romeo, except in his reality there was no beautiful young girl standing there, ready to throw away her life of privilege to be with him. Now, looking at Bea, he feels differently.

“That is what it’s about,” he says. “Those questions. How do you know when someone loves you? How do you know you’re worthy of their love, or that their love is going to last? How do you know when to risk your heart?

“Hmm.” Bea’s eyes drop to her shoes. “Sometimes I think it’s better not to try. Too much risk.”

“You know what they say. No risk, no reward.”

Bea goes quiet, and Niall doesn’t know what to say next. So he waits, waits for her to fill the silence. He finds himself reluctant to remove himself from her doorstep, reluctant to go to end this conversation and go to his room and be alone with his thoughts when he could be here, sharing them with her.

“Right,” Bea says abruptly. “As nice as it was talking to you, Niall”—he can tell from her tone that she doesn’t think it was nice at all—“I think it’s time for me to go to bed. We’ve got an early start in the morning.”

“Right.”

“Goodnight, then,” she says.

“Goodnight.”

It’s baffling, really, how quickly his feelings toward her changed, Niall thinks as he looks at her looking at him. Maybe it happened this afternoon, as Bea comforted her disappointed grandmother over and over again. Or maybe it happened even earlier, on their way out of Verona this morning, when she cursed at a taxi driver under her breath.

She’s beautiful, still. Beautiful, again. Beautiful, always.

Damn, this is not what he thought would happen when he agreed to help an old woman track down the man she loved half a century ago.

“Goodnight, Niall,” Bea repeats, staring at him.

“Goodnight,” he says again, but he doesn’t move. His eyes are glued to her face, and he can’t look away. It’s probably starting to get a little bit creepy, but she’s a mystery, and maybe if he looks long enough, he’ll be able to discern some tiny clue.

“You’re blocking my door,” she says, looking, as per usual, less than pleased with him.

Niall practically jumps backwards in an attempt to make space for her. “Right, of course! Sorry about that.”

There’s enough clearance to close the door now, but Bea freezes for a moment, hand on the doorknob, eyes locked on Niall’s.

“Bea?”

“What?” Bea shakes her head, blinking, as if coming out of a daze. “Right. Sorry. Goodnight, Niall.”

Then she shuts the door, leaving Niall standing there, wondering if he’ll ever have words enough to describe her beauty. And how utterly confused she leaves him.

   Nine - Bea

In the morning, Bea wakes up itchy. At first she thinks it’s bedbugs, because that’s what every traveler thinks when they wake up itchy, but this hotel that Gran is paying for is much too nice for bedbugs. They left chocolate on her pillow last night and there are enough towels in the bathroom tokeep her in baths for years to come. Too bad they’re only staying two nights.

Maybe it’s a sunburn, she thinks, trudging to the bathroom and craning her neck to examine her back in the mirror. It’s a bit pink, but certainly not burnt enough to cause the kind of itching she’s feeling. The straps of the tank top she wore yesterday aren’t even outlined.

Something else, then. Maybe she ate something that triggered an allergy. Bea muses on that thought as she brushes her teeth with one hand and scratches her thigh with the other. What’d she eat yesterday? Spaghetti, gelato, a panini, and lots and lots of bread. Nothing too out of the ordinary, no shellfish or undercooked meat or questionable cheese.

Maybe it’s a rogue clothing tag. She slides her pajama shorts off and turns them inside out, hunting for a tiny piece of plastic that might’ve been left behind when she snipped off the price tag. Nothing. There isn’t even a tag with laundry instructions. There’s absolutely nothing there that could be causing that infernal crawling sensation Bea’s feeling all over both legs.

And her back, not to mention her back, where a million tiny spiders are tap-dancing in flip flops, tickling all of her nerve endings and driving her batty.

Bea tosses her toothbrush on the counter and moves to turn on the shower, imagining all of the spiders washing away down the drain. What a way to wake up: in a beautiful hotel room in the beautiful countryside of Italy, itching all over. She hasn’t been itchy like this in years, not since she told her best mate, Theresa, that the boy she liked didn’t like her back, even though he did. Bea liked him too and didn’t want to watch him date her best friend. Rosie saw straight through her lie, as best mates often do, and turned all of their friends against Bea. That was the last time Bea ever got involved in someone else’s romantic life.

Oh, crud. The only thing that makes Bea itchy like this is romance. And, well, lying.

But, lying. She hasn’t told any lies lately, has she? She hasn’t tricked Gran or tried to lure her away from the Alessandro hunt. And she hasn’t lied to Niall about how much she dislikes him or—

Oh, crud. She doesn’t dislike him, does she?

Last night, when Niall walked her to her door and stood there for what felt like hours, staring at her with his piercing blue eyes, there had been a moment, the briefest of seconds, when Bea wondered if he was going to kiss her, and thought that she might like him to. She’d stood there in the open doorway of her hotel room and considered that it might be nice to kiss the cute Irishman who’d given up his vacation to help her gran search for her lost love. In that moment, that brief, endless moment, he’d seemed sweet, genuine, likable, handsome, and exactly the kind of person whom one enjoys kissing.

But then the moment had passed, Bea had shaken herself out of it, and she closed the door on him and his tempting lips and intriguing eyes. Niall is engaged, and, regardless, he’s not the kind of person one has those thoughts about.

Bea’s brain still seems confused about that, though, as it wonders, will his lips look as tempting and his eyes as intriguing at breakfast this morning?

Oh, crud. Bea scratches at her elbow.

The itchiness abates during her shower but then comes back full-force when she meets Gran and Niall at breakfast. She sees them before they see her so she takes a moment to observe before she approaches. They’re seated at a table on the terrace outside the hotel’s restaurant, and Gran’s laughing at something Niall said, her head thrown back and joy clear on her face. Bea longs to hear the joke herself, longs to know this side of Niall, when his humor’s not at her expense, when he’s not teasing her or sending her funny looks via the rearview mirror.

Jesus H. Christ, Bea thinks, shaking herself out of it and approaching the table. Grams barely has time to look up before a waiter appears and pours her a cup of coffee.

“Good morning, Beatrix,” Gran says. Bea doesn’t miss Gran’s raised eyebrow over the rim of her own mug. Earl Grey for Gran in the mornings, always.

“Morning, Gran,” Bea says once she’s gulped down a mouthful of coffee. It’s scalding hot and not particularly good, which is a disappointment, but not one worth dwelling on when one is as itchy as Bea is. “Morning, Niall.”

“Bea,” he says, nodding at her. There’s a slight twinkle in his eye and Bea imagines it saying, I know you wanted me to kiss you last night. It makes her right knee itch. The fact that that’s the closest knee to Niall is of no consequence.

She looks away from him and grabs a menu, flipping it open. The entire thing is in Italian, which is fine for a dinner menu but a lot more complicated for breakfast. “I think I’d like an omelette today. Do they have omelettes in Italy? What’s the Italian word for egg?”

Neither Niall nor Gran answer right away, so Bea keeps on. “Pane, that’s bread, right? I know that word. What’s the Italian for bacon?”

“It’s bacon,” Niall says. When Bea meets his gaze, he’s smiling at her, a hint of a laugh lingering on the corner of his mouth. Gran is smiling, too.

“What?” Bea asks, looking from one to the other. “Do I have toothpaste on my face?”

Niall drops his eyes to his plate, but Gran doesn’t look away, so Bea narrows in on her. Gran has never been able to keep anything from her—except Alessandro, of course, but Bea doesn’t want to think about that right now—so Bea knows that if she stares long enough, Gran will buckle.

It doesn’t seem to work this time though, as Gran drops the smile into a concerned frown. “No, dear,” she says. “But I’m glad to hear you brushed your teeth.”

Niall snickers, and suddenly Bea hates him again, but her right wrist won’t stop itching.

Why was it that she liked him? All the reasons have disappeared as she finishes her breakfast and listens as Gran and Niall go over their agenda for the day. There are four Alessandros on today’s list and a short lunch break scheduled for the afternoon.

In the car, Bea takes the wheel again, Gran in the passenger’s seat and Niall in the back. Once they’re out on the main road, Alessandro’s address plugged into Apple Maps, Niall pulls out his notebook and begins scribbling away.

The back of Bea’s neck itches as she wonders what he’s writing. Is it a personal journal entry in which he’s describing how he almost kissed her last night? Or is it a draft of a novel, the story of lovers separated by centuries only to find themselves together again? If it’s the latter, she’s not sure how Gran would feel about becoming the heroine of a novel. Niall definitely should’ve asked first.

She’s still annoyed at him over that possibility when she finally asks, several ,minutes later, “What are you writing?”

It takes a minute for Niall to look up and meet her gaze in the rearview mirror. “It’s not done yet,” he says with a shrug.

“Okay, but what’s it about?” Bea presses. “Is it nonfiction? Fiction? Are you writing poetry?”

There’s a gleam in Niall’s eyes as he mimes zipping his lips and throwing an invisible key over his shoulder.

Bea huffs and turns her focus back to the road. On either side of the road are endless vineyards stretching as far as the eye can see. Every once in a while, there’s a barn or a house or a man on horseback, a copse of trees, a hill, but it’s mostly vine after vine after vine. Finally, finally, they turn onto a side road and head toward the residence of the first Alessandro.

Let this one be him, Bea prays. Let this one be him, and let him be married, so I can go back to my life as it was and forget any of this ever happened.

But then, what about Gran? Bea considers the ideal outcome for Gran. Maybe Alessandro is a widower, living alone on his vineyards, waiting for his lost love to return to him. He and Gran will marry and she’ll stay in Italy forever, leaving Bea to take care of her big house in London. Or maybe Alessandro will be dead. That’s preferable, Bea thinks, to him being married to another woman.

At least that’s what Bea thinks, until the man who answers the door proclaims himself to be Alessandro’s son.

“My father died last year,” he says, and Bea hears Gran gasp behind her. She tightens her grip on Gran’s hand. “I’m sorry, you say you knew him?”

Bea can’t see Gran’s face, but she can imagine the look on it. When her parents died, she felt as though the floor had dropped out from underneath her and she was clinging to the edge by her nails, waiting for someone to pull her back up. It had been Gran who had come to her aid.

That’s not something Bea likes to think about very often, but now, just for a moment, she’s glad she experienced it. Maybe now she can be here for Gran, as Gran was for her. She’s never had the opportunity to step up in that way before now.

Niall looks at Bea for a second before answering the man’s question. “No, I didn’t. This is Caro. Carolyn. She knew him, years ago. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Bea thinks she should echo the expression, but she can’t find her voice. This is too much of a shock: they came all this way for Alessandro, and though Bea had considered the possibility that he might be dead, she really didn’t expect it to be the case. What kind of ending is this?

The man, Alessandro’s son, looks at each of their faces, at their expressions. “And I, for yours. Would you like to come in?”

“Let’s go,” Gran whispers, tugging on Bea’s hand, pulling her back toward the car, but Bea steps forward. Maybe she can help Gran get the closure she needs. She clears her throat.

“Yes, please. We’d love to.”

The man nods, opening the door wider and allowing the three of them to follow him inside and into a small sitting room. Niall introduces Bea and himself, but she’s too distracted to be polite. The man’s house is small but well-kept. The tile floors are swept, books fill the shelves in the sitting room, and there is a piano with a row of picture frames on the top. Bea wanders over, looking at the photos and imagining this other life Gran might have lived.

In the first, their host, aged 9 or 10, stands with his parents in front of, what else, a vineyard. He wears overalls and his mother squints at the camera. The photo is in black and white even though it was taken, Bea guesses, sometime in the late 70s. There are balloons in the background, evidence of a party.

“Are these your parents?” Bea asks, carrying the frame over to the man. The man nods, taking it from her hands. “When was this photo taken?”

“I was 10 years old, if I remember correctly,” the man says. He lifts a pair of eyeglasses from his neck and slides them on. “My father had just returned from the army, his last tour. We were celebrating his retirement.”

“Alessandro was in the army?” Bea turns to Gran, who has settled on the couch, Niall standing awkwardly by her side, looking down on her as if worried she’s going to faint.

The man nods. “Yes, for many years. He enlisted as soon as he was old enough, in 1963, and was only home for a short time in 1968, when he met and married my mother. They had a whirlwind courtship, as you say.”

“1963,” Bea repeats. Something doesn’t fit, but she’s not sure what.

Niall is, though. “Caro met Alessandro in 1965,” he says. “Where was your father in 1965?”

The man scratches his head and takes so long to answer that Bea wants to grab him by the shoulders and give him a good shake.

“Somewhere abroad,” he says finally. “North Africa, possibly.”

Bea’s face mirrors the look of shock on Niall’s. She takes the frame from the man and walks it to the couch. “Is this him, Gran? Is this your Alessandro?”

Gran leans forward, looking at the picture for an endless minute. “No,” she says quietly, fingers playing with the gold chain around her neck. “No, that’s not him.”

Bea feels a wave of emotion crash over her, pushing her down onto the couch next to Gran. “That’s not him,” she repeats.

“That’s not him,” Niall echoes.

Bea sits quietly as Niall makes their excuses, apologizing for the intrusion and giving their condolences. He ushers them out the door and back towards the car, where he grabs Bea’s arm before she can open the driver’s side door.

“Do you want me to drive?” he says quietly. “You seem shaky.”

Bea rolls her shoulders back. She’s not shaky, she’s fine. So what if Alessandro was dead and then alive again in the span of five minutes? She’s fine.

“I’m fine,” she snaps. “Don’t you want to journal about this?”

Niall steps away from her, hands up, and gets in the car before she can apologize for being rude.

It’s just as well, she supposes. It’s not as if she likes him anyway.

   Ten - Niall

The next day is much like the prior one, with visits to multiple Alessandro’s who may or may not be Gran’s lost love. At least none of them are dead. Yesterday’s first stop was so rough that Niall considered proposing to the ladies that they cut their losses and head back to the hotel, but Bea looked determined to press on.

This morning, though, her energy level seems lower, so on the way to the car, he offers to drive.

“Are you sure?” Bea asks, raising an eyebrow. “Have you ever driven in a foreign country?”

Niall raises an eyebrow in return, which makes Bea blush. He ignores the way his stomach flips at the redness in her cheeks. “Yes,” he says. “I’ve even driven in foreign cities. Like Verona.”

She blushes even darker as she no doubt recalls her terrible driving as they left the city a few days ago. “All right, then,” she says, passing over the keys. “But don’t kill us. My Gran is precious cargo.”

Niall nods. He doesn’t need to be told. Caro is one of the most wonderful people he’s ever met, aside from his own grandmother, who is back home in Ireland and whom he never gets to see. Growing up, his parents were always traveling for business, working late, making him feel forgotten, and it was his grandmother who remembered him. She took him on day trips to carnivals and national parks, attended all of his school plays, and helped him with his homework when he struggled. Leaving her behind to move to London was one of the hardest things he’s ever done, so it’s nice to spend time with Caro. She’s an excellent listener, and she gives even better advice.

Yesterday morning over breakfast, before Bea had shown up, Caro had asked him about his life, about what brought him to Italy, and he talked about Rhiannon in a way that he never had before.

“I thought I loved her once,” he’d said, stirring cream into coffee that he knew he wouldn’t drink.“But I know now that I didn’t. I just wanted to be in love so badly that I settled for her.”

Caro had nodded like she understood. “Or maybe you wanted to be loved. It’s okay to want that.” Then she’d paused, taken a sip of her tea, swallowed. “You like my granddaughter.”

She said it bluntly, like it was a fact, and Niall had been surprised, in that moment, to hear something he’d only felt sound so permanent, so real. But it was true, so he nodded.

“I do,” he said, and he had imagined, for the briefest of seconds, being loved by someone who stood her ground and said what she want, someone who cared about her family enough to drive through endless wine country with them, someone like Bea—and then he forced the thought out and away. It wasn’t an appropriate thing to be thinking while conversing with Bea’s grandmother.

But now that it’s a day later and he’s driving the car and Bea’s asleep in the backseat, mouth slack as she rests her head on her hand, elbow propped against the window, he has free reign to think whatever he wants. Which, try as he might to want something else, is Bea. Bea and her reluctant laugh. Bea and the fire in her eyes.

“Stubborn, isn’t she?” Caro says after a while, her voice so quiet that Niall wonders if he imagined it. Wonders if she was reading his mind. “My granddaughter. Stubborn as her gran.”

“Hmm.” Niall smiles softly at her, unsure what to say in response.

“I raised her, you know,” Caro says, glancing sideways at him before looking back at the road. “Her parents died when she was young, and ever since, she’s been this wild thing, but stubborn, practical. Always looking for evidence, for proof. But for some things, there is no proof.”

“What things?” Niall asks.

“Love, the most obvious. Faith. Hope. Dreams, especially dreams. Bea has rarely allowed herself dreams. Only when she’s asleep does she dream.”

Niall pictures her asleep, pictures her in bed beside him, rising from a nightmare and seeking his comfort. The image warms him. Now he has something else to think about: Bea and her forgotten dreams—for she must’ve had them, once.

“I dream enough for the both of us, don’t I?” Caro continues. Her voice turns serious. “We haven’t discussed this, but I know we can’t search for Alessandro forever.”

“I’ve got nothing but time,” Niall says, but it isn’t exactly true. He has to go back to London at some point. He wishes he didn’t, though. He wishes he could stay here forever, traveling the countryside with Caro and Bea.

“Your time is better spent on other endeavors,” Caro says, looking over her shoulder at Bea, who’s still asleep. Then she looks pointedly back to Niall. “You should tell her how you feel.”

Niall doesn’t answer. Bea is hot and cold—two nights ago, they’d almost kissed outside her door, but since then she’s barely spoken to him, barely looked at him.

“It doesn’t matter,” he finally says. Even if she likes him, even if she’d kiss him back—it doesn’t matter. “Like you said, we can’t search for Alessandro forever.”

“We can’t, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t matter.” She pauses. Then: “Another day or two, I think. These old bones grow wary of sitting in cars.”

“Maybe we’ll find him today,” Niall says, offering her a smile.

They don’t, though. They visit two Alessandro’s before lunch, one too old and one two young, and in the afternoon, travel to an address that doesn’t exist. Before dinner, they check into another hotel just outside Sienna, all three of them exhausted. Niall can feel his bones creaking at all the joints, a physical manifestation of his mental exhaustion.

As he waits in the lobby for the ladies to come down for dinner, he scratches off several Alessandro’s from his list. There are a lot left, but, as Caro said this morning, she isn’t willing to search forever. Another day or two, she’d said. So he looks at the list now and tries to derive, as if by magic, which ones are most likely to be the one they’re searching for. It’s no use, but he stares at the page anyway, stares so long that “Alessandro” no longer looks like a word, just a random arrangement of letters.

Energy levels remains low at dinner, and not even gelato can seem to cheer anyone up. Niall bids Caro and Bea goodnight and goes to his room, where he pulls out his notebook and stares at a blank page before finally giving up and going to sleep.

Tomorrow will be a better day, he thinks as he drifts off.

   Eleven - Bea

The next morning, Niall knocks on Bea’s door before she’s had a chance to leave for breakfast. She’s braiding her hair over her shoulder when she pulls open the door and greets him.

“Hi?” she says.

“Good morning,” he says. He looks good this morning, dressed in shorts and a short sleeve button up. His sneakers are bright white. She wonders if he bleaches them.

“Good morning,” she says. “What’s going on? Is Gran alright?”

“She’s fine,” he says. “Bit tired. She said she wants to take the day off from driving today and hang about the pool. You could join her if you want, or…”

“Or?” She notices the backpack swung over his shoulder. “Are you going somewhere?”

He nods. “Sienna. I figured, since we’re here, I’d like to see it. And maybe you’d like to come.”

Her first instinct is to say no, because this is Niall and she absolutely does not like him, but then she changes her mind. What if she’s never in Italy again? What if they find Alessandro tomorrow and she’s on an immediate flight back home? What if this is her only chance to see Sienna?

“Okay,” she says. “I’d like to come.”

Ten minutes later, they’re in the car and she’s looking at his hands on the steering wheel. When he’d offered to drive, she’d accepted without hesitation, eager to spend the drive looking out the windows. As endless as the vines seem, they’re beautiful, and a bit otherworldly, as if England is more than a few hours’ flight away.

“Have you ever been to Italy before?” she asks Niall.

“No,” he says, glancing sideways at her. He’s an excellent driver, so careful, and she’s never felt safer in a car—a feat for her, because her parents died in one. “I’ve never made much time for travel. I regret that, I think. There are so many places to see that I haven’t seen.”

“There’s so much future for that,” Bea says. “So much forever. You can fill all of it with travel.”

“Maybe. Where would you like to go?”

Bea smiles, softly. She never lets her think about these things, about all the things she can’t have or will never do, but she indulges herself for a second. “Prague. Tokyo. Rio de Janeiro. New York City.”

“I’ve been to New York City,” Niall interjects. “It’s loud.”

“London is loud.”

“New York is louder.”

“Fine,” Bea rolls her eyes. “Where would you go?”

Niall shrugs, the fabric of his shirt rustling against the leather of the car seat. “Prague, Tokyo, Rio. I want to go everywhere.”

Bea doesn’t respond, and they fall into a surprisingly comfortable silence, during which they drive into Sienna and she thinks about how big Niall’s hands look on the steering wheel and how small hers feel resting on her thighs. She feels safe with Niall, not just when he’s driving, but maybe that’s not real. Maybe she’s transferring her feelings about his driving skills to the rest of him.

Or maybe, she considers, that she really does like Niall, just as she was thinking a few mornings ago, before the disaster with the undead Alessandro and the following day filled with disappointments. She scratches her knee.

“Bug bite?”

“Huh?” She looks over at Niall, who’s grinning at her. “Oh, yeah, I guess.”

“That’s rough,” he says.

“Yeah,” she says, but looking at Niall, nothing feels rough. Everything feels easy, smooth sailing, like she could sit beside him in a car forever.

Oh, crud.

In Sienna, Niall parallel parks easily near the city center and they wander through the streets, in and out of a museum, around and around the cathedral. Inside, Bea stands transfixed by the height of the ceilings and the intricacy of the design, horizontal lines spiraling around her, making her dizzy.

“This is the ugliest church I’ve ever seen,” Niall says quietly into her ear, making her laugh. She covers it up with a cough—it’s rude to laugh in a church, she’s pretty sure—before she responds.

“You can’t say that,” she whispers. “God can hear you.”

“God didn’t build it,” Niall whispers back. “And I’m sure he’s well aware.”

At lunch, they talk easily about their lives back in London, their favorite places to visit and their favorite places to avoid. They both hate Covent Garden and both love the South Bank despite the crowds of tourists outside the Globe.

“I can’t believe I’ve never seen you there,” Niall says.

“London’s a huge city,” Bea says. “Over 8 million people live there.”

“Maybe. But only one Beatrix Mason.”

That makes her blush, and the awareness that she’s blushing makes her blush more. He grins at her, and she smiles back, and if she could make a snow globe out of any moment, it would be this one. This perfect day in Sienna with a perfect man whose beautiful eyes look into her own like they can see all her secrets and aren’t judging her for them.

She thinks of Juliet then, of her decision to marry Romeo after only knowing him for a few days, and in that moment, it doesn’t seem crazy. It seems like the most sensible thing in the world.

In the late afternoon, they drive back to the hotel to meet Gran for dinner, but she’s already eaten, so they get a table in the hotel restaurant without her. Niall smiles and Bea smiles and something’s changed, she thinks. Today he cracked open a little bit and made a little bit more sense, and she wants to keep digging, she thinks.

He’s engaged, she knows that—he’s engaged, but tomorrow will be their last day together, and she can have one more day, can’t she? One more day with Niall, and then she’ll let him go.

“Come for a walk with me,” she says when they’re done eating.

They wander into the hills around the hotel, climbing to the top of one to look at the stars.

“Do you know the names?” Niall asks.

“No,” Bea says, which is a lie, but she’s hoping he’ll impress her. She’s hoping he wants to impress her.

“Me either,” he says. She laughs.

They lie on the ground like that for a while, watching stars shoot across the sky. Niall’s hand finds hers in the grass and holds on tight. The air tingles between them. A summer night, alive.

When he leans over and kisses her, it’s surprising at first and then the most natural thing in the world. She kisses him back, enjoying the weight of him over her, the brush of his hair in his eyes, the softness of his lips. And then she remembers.

She pushes him back, and it takes a second before he goes. He smiles at her, but she doesn’t smile back.

“Bea,” he says, reaching a hand down to brush some hair out of her face. It’s too much, and almost enough to get her to kiss him again. But he’s engaged.

She rolls away from him and springs to her feet. “I’m sorry,” she stammers. “That shouldn’t have happened.”

Niall follows, going after her as she crosses the lawn. “Why not?”

Bea looks over her shoulder. “You’re engaged. Aren’t you engaged?”

Niall shakes his head, but doesn’t respond. He looks like he’s fed up with her, which is just as well, because she’s fed up with him too. Why is he like this, hot one second, confusing the next? Why is she like this, attracted to such a man?

“It doesn’t matter,” he says. “Bea, I like you, and—”

“How can you say it doesn’t matter? Your fiancée doesn’t matter?”

“No, that’s not what I meant. I—”

“Look, we’re almost through the list,” Bea says, taking another step away from him. He needs to stop looking at her like that, with those glowing blue eyes, or she can’t be held responsible for her actions. The more space she can put between them now, the better. “If we don’t find Alessandro tomorrow, that’s it. Gran and I are going home, and you’re going back to your fiancée, and we can pretend that none of this ever happened.”

Niall steps closer to her, into the space she put between them. “I don’t want to pretend that none of this ever happened.”

“But you’re engaged,” she reminds him again. Why can’t he seem to remember that? “To someone else. To someone who I’m sure is very kind and very much in love with you and would not be pleased to find out that you’ve been kissing another girl on a hillside in the country.”

The corner of Niall’s mouth lifts, almost like—is he laughing? He’s definitely laughing. “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”

“What?” Bea’s jaw drops open. “That’s an awful thing to say. You’re disgusting. I can’t believe I just kissed you.” And I can’t believe I want to do it again.

Now he’s frowning. “Bea—”

She shakes her head. “No, I don’t want to hear it. I’m going to bed, and we’re going to forget this ever happened, and we’re never going to talk about it again.”

Niall looks like he wants to say something, but he holds it back. Good.

“Goodnight,” she says, turning on her heel and marching away from him.

She can’t resist turning back, though, where he’s still standing on the hill, hand raised to his mouth, gazing after her. She spins away before he can catch her looking.

   Twelve - Niall

In the car the next morning, they don’t speak of the kiss. Bea won’t even look at him, and Niall supposes he deserves it. She thought he was engaged, after all. But he isn’t. He isn’t engaged, and the only thing he wants is to kiss Bea again, and again, and again.

That doesn’t seem likely to happen, though, at least not if this morning is an indication.They sit silently in the car, all three of them off in their own worlds. Bea had said last night that today would be their last day—if they don’t find Alessandro today, this is it. They’ll return to their lives, story unfinished.

Niall wouldn’t put money on that, though. He’s a writer, and he knows that a story’s not a story if it doesn’t have an ending. And this one, the story of Alessandro Bianchi and Carolyn Mason—it’s going to have a marvelous ending.

Hopefully the story of Niall Horan and Beatrix Mason will have a marvelous ending, too. He won’t leave Italy without one.

The morning’s Alessandro is a bust, and after a roadside picnic, they hit the road again, driving east to the next one on the list. Niall picked today’s names, perhaps the final ones, at random, and he both hopes and doesn’t hope that one of them is the one.

They’re a few minutes out from the turn indicated on the map when Caro gasps in the passenger’s seat. Niall leans forward to see if she’s okay, meeting Bea’s eyes for a precious second before she looks away, refocusing her attention on her grandmother.

“Pull over,” Caro says, her hand already reaching for the door.

“What?” Bea says. “Are you okay?”

“Pull over,” Caro repeats, so Bea does, flipping on the turn signal and guiding the car off the road. Caro gets out and steps toward the road, staring across at a man standing in the vineyard. Bea follows, and so does Niall.

“Gran? What is it?” Bea asks.

Caro raises her arm and points. “That’s him. That’s Alessandro.”

Niall squints at the man across the road. He’s young, much too young to be Alessandro—he’s not much older than Bea. But Caro seems so sure, her gaze fixed, so Niall crosses the road to ask.

“Niall, wait,” Bea calls after him, and though it’s the first time she’s acknowledged him all day, he doesn’t turn around.

“Scusi,” he says to the man. “We’re looking for Alessandro Bianchi.”

“That’s me,” the man says. “I am Alessandro Bianchi. And my father, he is Alessandro Bianchi as well.”

“Your father,” Niall repeats. “Your father, where is he?”

“Out for a ride,” the man says, his gaze drifting across the road, where Bea and Caro still stand. “He will be back soon. I can take you up to the house, if you’d like.”

Niall nods. “Let me get my friends.”

He crosses the road back to Caro and Bea, who are staring at him with wide eyes. “It’s him,” Niall says. “Well, not him, but Alessandro is his father and he’s just out for a ride and he’ll be back soon.”

“He’ll be back soon,” Bea repeats, processing. Then, more eagerly: “Gran, he’ll be back soon!” 

“Oh,” Caro says, looking off into the distance. “Maybe it’s not really him. We ought to go before he comes.”

“Nonsense, Gran,” Bea says. She tucks a lock of Caro’s hair behind her ear. “You look beautiful, just as you did 55 years ago. He’s going to be so excited to see you.”

Caro sighs. “I don’t know, Bea bug. It’s been so long, so many years. Maybe this box is best left shut.”

“Gran—” Bea starts, but the sound of a galloping horse interrupts her. The three of them turn as a horse emerges from the vineyards across the road, coming to a stop beside Alessandro Jr. They watch with bated breath as he converses with his son, both of them looking across the road, and then, still on his horse, he crosses.

“Carolina,” he says, drawing his horse to a stop a few feet from them. He climbs down and drops the reins, the horse forgotten as he approaches. “My Carolina, is that you?”

Caro steps forward. “Alessandro. It’s me.”

“After so many years,” he says. “Impossible.”

“Not impossible,” she says. 

Niall can’t believe it. He truly can’t believe it, but it’s true. It’s him, after all this time, after all the places they’ve stopped, after all the ways he’s twisted himself into knots over Bea—there he is. Alessandro. Caro’s Alessandro.

Niall drifts backwards as they embrace, coming to stand behind Bea. She looks uncomfortable as well, her gaze drifting off into the endless rows of grapevines beside the road.

Niall puts a hand lightly on her back. “Should we—”

“I think—”

Niall laughs, which makes Bea blush his favorite blush. “You go ahead,” he says.

She bites her lip, and he can tell she’s trying not to smile. After everything, she doesn’t want to smile at him, but this moment, it’s special. “I was going to say, I think we should give them a few minutes.”

“I was going to say the same thing.” Niall grins. He can’t help it. They found Alessandro—they found Alessandro!—and he’s here, with Bea. There’s nothing better than this, nowhere he’d rather be.

“Let’s go,” Bea says, leading him through the vineyard.

They walk in step silently for a while, Bea ignoring him and Niall wondering what he should say.The vineyards wrap around them, pushing them closer together, but Bea avoids bumping shoulders with him. He can tell that she wanted to give her gran privacy, but, unlike him, she’d rather be anywhere than here with him.

“I’m sorry about last night,” he says, breaking the silence.

“Good,” she says. “You should be.”

Niall doesn’t know what to say to that, so he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t know how to explain to her what she means to him—how, in such a short time, she’s come to mean everything. He thinks, hopes, prays, that maybe she feels the same way.

“I think you should leave.”

“What?” he says. She doesn’t feel the same way, and it hits him like a brick to his gut. After everything.

“We found Alessandro, so there’s no reason for you to stay. You should leave now, go back to Verona, back to your fiancée and your life. I’ll find someone to drive you to the train station. I’m sure Alessandro’s son Alessandro would be willing.”

“You won’t drive me yourself?” he asks, annoyed now, frustrated, exhausted. What an emotional roller coaster this week has been.

“No, Niall,” she says, looking at him now, meeting his gaze, and in it he can see every emotion he’s feeling too—exhaustion and confusion and excitement and sadness and loneliness. But that clarifies nothing. “I won’t drive you, and I don’t want to see you again. This week was nice, but it was just that—a week. It’s over now, and we are too.”

She turns her back on him, walking away, so she doesn’t hear what he says to her retreating form:

“We barely began.”

   Thirteen - Bea

Gran has never looked so happy as she does at dinner with Alessandro and all of his family—children and grandchildren and even a great-grandchild or two. This is the massive family gathering that Gran never got, everyone who loves each other gathered in one place, smiling, laughing. It’s bliss.

Except it’s not, because seated to Bea’s right is Niall. Niall, who’s engaged and kissed her anyway. Niall, who she can’t stop thinking about, who she won’t stop thinking about even when he’s gone. Niall, who she can barely look at. Niall, who she’s sending away.

It’s the right thing to do, she knows, but it feels so wrong, and she hasn’t even done it yet.

She barely pays attention to Alessandro’s relatives as they riddle her with questions, some of which Niall answers for her—making her feel safe even when she doesn’t want him to. Making her feel cared for, even though she asked him not to.

After dinner, Bea approaches Gran and Alessandro beside the table, where they are surrounded by a cluster of Alessandro’s grandkids and great-grands. Niall follows behind—Bea can feel him there, but she doesn’t turn around to look. Looking at him hurts.

She can’t believe that 24 hours ago she thought she’d be able to spend just these days with him and then let him go, and be okay with it. This isn’t okay. This isn’t okay at all.

Best to rip off the band-aid. Bea puts a hand on Gran’s arm.

“Niall is leaving,” she says when Gran turns to face her.

Gran looks at Niall. “Oh, no, please, Niall, you don’t have to.”

Alessandro echoes the sentiment. “Please, stay. You are welcome here.”

Niall looks at her then, looks for some kind of confirmation that he can stay, that she wants him here, but Bea doesn’t give it to him. She looks at the ground and doesn’t meet his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his eyes burning a hole in Bea’s cheek. “I have to be getting back to Verona.”

Bea feels more eyes on her—Gran, this time. She meets her eyes and gives a quick nod, as if to say, I want him gone. Gran frowns, but doesn’t object.

“My son will drive you to the station,” Alessandro says, waving his son over.

Five minutes later, Bea stands back as Gran says goodbye to Niall at the car, hugs him and kisses his cheek and makes him promise to call. He won’t, though, Bea knows that. When Niall leaves, she will never see him again. She hurt him when she told him to go as they stood in the vineyards, surrounded by unborn wine. She hurt him, and there’s no taking that back.

He looks at her through the window as the car drives away, his face expressionless, his eyes bright blue even through the glass. He looks at her until he’s too far away to keep looking.

The moment the car turns at the end of the drive, disappearing from view, Bea can feel in her stomach that she made a mistake. It feels like a storm is broiling, rolling and twisting and throwing her dinner around like it’s lawn furniture. But it’s too late.

“Oh, Beatrix,” Gran says from behind her. “Why did you do that? Don’t you have feelings for him?”

“He’s engaged,” Bea says without turning around. Maybe if she keeps her eyes locked on the setting sun, she’ll be able to disappear alongside it. “It doesn’t matter what I feel.”

“Pish posh,” Gran says. She slips her hand into Bea’s and squeezes. “That boy is not engaged. He and his fiancée broke up months ago.”

What? He’s not engaged?

“That can’t be right,” Bea says. “Why didn’t he tell me?”

“I don’t know,” Gran says. “And you’ll never find out, if you let him go like that.”

Bea shakes her head. “It’s too late,” she says. “He’s gone, and I made him leave. It’s too late.”

“It’s never too late,” Gran says. “I found Alessandro after all these years, did I not? How many Nialls do you think are on this planet? Don’t wait 55 years like I did.”

Bea looks at her grandmother now, looks at the wrinkles by her bright eyes, brighter than they’ve been in a long time. Alessandro has brought the light back to her gran’s eyes.

“Thank you for helping me find Alessandro,” Gran says. “Now, go find Niall.”

She presses the car keys into Bea’s palm.

“I—” Bea begins.

“Go,” Gran instructs.

So she does.

   Fourteen - Niall

“Niall!”

Niall turns at the sound of his name, but he can’t see who’s yelling at him, so he keeps going, cutting through the crowd with his bag pulled tight against his side.

“Niall, you jerk! Stop right there!”

Is that—it can’t be. He comes to a stop and turns, and there she is.

“Bea? What are you doing here?”

She’s wearing cutoff shorts and running shoes and her purse bounces on her hip. She stops in front of him, a few feet away, and glares.

God, he missed that glare. It’s only been a few hours since he saw it last, but damn, he missed it. He missed the fire in her eyes and the sharpness of her nose and the way she looks at him like he’s the only thing worth looking at.

“I’m here because you’re awful,” she says, breathing hard. “I had to tell you.”

“You ran after me in the train station to tell me I’m awful?” he repeats, confused. “I’m leaving, just like you asked, Bea. You didn’t need to come here and make things worse.”

“No, you idiot,” she says, taking a step closer to him. “That’s not what I want.”

“Then what do you want?” he asks.

He knows what he wants. He wants to pull her tight against his chest and kiss her for at least the next five minutes and then for the rest of time. He wants to run through vineyards with her and stomp buckets of grapes and get wine drunk under hot the Italian sun. He wants to rub aloe on her sunburn and kiss it as it heals. And he wants to know what she wants.

But she ignores the question.

“My Gran, she said that you’re not really engaged,” Bea says, lunging forward to punch him in the shoulder. It barely hurts, but he rubs at the spot anyway. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”

“I thought I did,” Niall says, running through their previous conversations in his mind. Hadn’t he, the other night just after their kiss? “I swear I did.”

Bea’s fist comes at him again, softer this time. “You didn’t, you idiot. That’s why I made you leave.”

Niall tilts his head. He understands now, why she’s here, what she wants. His heartbeat speeds up. “Because I didn’t tell you I wasn’t engaged?”

“Yes!”

“Why do you care if I’m engaged or not?” Niall asks, even though the answer is obvious. He wants to hear her say it.

Bea huffs. As she grows more frustrated, her cheeks get redder and redder. “Because you can’t go around kissing people when you’re engaged!”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s rude!”

Her fist flies again, but Niall grabs it and opens it in his hand. He weaves his fingers with hers and pulls her forward. “Why?” he asks.

“Because,” she says, cheeks blazing. She’s so close to him now, close enough to kiss, but Niall holds off. He wants to see if she’ll say it. “Because it’s rude!”

“You already said that.” Niall can’t resist the loose strand of hair blowing in front of her eyes; he tucks it safely behind her ear.

Bea’s eyes follow the moment of his hand. “Right. What was the question again?”

“Why is it rude to kiss someone when you’re engaged?”

“Oh, right,” Bea says, her voice so low it’s almost a whisper. “It’s rude because… because you might kiss somebody so well that they want to kiss you again, but they can’t, because you’re engaged!”

“I’m not engaged.”

“You’re not…” Bea repeats, her eyes drifting down and landing on his lips. “You’re not engaged.”

“Right.”

“You’re not engaged,” she says again, the edges of her mouth lifting in a smile She lifts her arms from where he’d trapped them on his chest and wraps them around his neck. “So why aren’t you kissing me right now?”

“That’s a good que—” Niall starts, but Bea cuts him off before he can finish, pressing her lips to his. He runs his fingers along her cheekbone and pulls her close her, feeling her chest press against his, her warmth mingling with his. He can smell her sweat, can feel her bare legs against his.

There’s a fire in this kiss that wasn’t there the other night, an urgency. After a minute, he pulls back, resting his hand on her cheek. “What’s with the hurry?”

Bea blinks up at him, eyelashes batting at her cheeks. “I don’t want you to leave,” she says. “I had to stop you from leaving.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers against her mouth. “Staying right here.”

When he kisses her again, he hopes she can feel what he does: that he found what he was searching for—not Alessandro, but Bea. The girl with fire in her eyes and a stubborn spirit and the potential, he thinks, to love him forever.

There’s so much forever, Bea had said to him the other day. In the moment, it had sounded terrifying, but now he knows there’s nothing as good as forever when it has Beatrix Madison in it.

   Afterward

Verona, 2020

Dear Juliet,

We both used to think you were a load of nonsense, but that was before we met each other, right here, just below your balcony. We’re not saying we believe in fate now, but it’s not totally off the table.

Love’s not totally off the table anymore, either. Neither of us believed in it before, but now we know a bit better. We know that you can love somebody for the way they blush and how much they love their grandmother and how terrible their driving is. And we know that you can love somebody for their bright blue eyes and the way they tease you and how safely they drive. We know that love, the way it’s supposed to be, makes you happy in all the best ways.

So, thanks, Juliet. We’re sorry you couldn’t get the ending we’re getting.

Love (the real kind),

Niall and Bea

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love-at-first-sight, falling-too-fast, uni au that will make your heart ache (in a good way)

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Stella thought that a weekend away from Niall would have calmed her down. Instead, all of her feelings rushed back in earnest, watching him sit down at the dining hall across from her. 

“Hey,” he said, a smile on his face. “You’re eating alone?

“No louis and Veda are...” she trailed off, looking over her shoulder. “They’re getting their food.” 

“How was your weekend home?” Niall asked, shrugging his book bag off of his shoulders. 

“Uh it was good,” she chuckled, rubbing her forehead. 

Aside from the part where they got so high, Stella could have sworn she talked to god. And the throwing up part. And the waking up with the pounding headache, confusion, and immediate regret. 

“That’s good,” Niall chuckled  “you got high didn’t you.”

“Very,” Stella nodded, poking at the pasta on her plate. “Regretfully high. Maybe even devastatingly high.”

“Celebrated 19 the right way,” Niall mused. 

Louis and Veda joined them just a few minutes later. Veda was grumbling about the food they were served and Louis was doing his very best to ignore her. 

“How’s come we pay all this money and we can’t even get a decent meal,” Veda grumbled. 

If Stella and her were alone, she’d press her until she said what was actually the matter. They weren’t, though, so she just watched her disgruntled behavior wordlessly hoping that no one would mention it. 

No one did. Louis exchanged glances with Stella. Niall was oblivious, eating his food as if nothing was wrong. Stella wondered how he couldn’t tell, the way Veda was angrily eating her green beans. Or the way she scowled at him. Oblivious.  

Stella wished she could be oblivious for a day. Instead she was hyper aware of every little thing. Every slight change of voice, eyebrow crinkle. She could notice it all. 

And then Stella wondered if Niall could tell she was a bit off kilter since she’d gotten back from Doncaster. Niall did notice, though as they did homework later that night. 

“Are ya alright?” Niall asked, a lilt to his voice that made Stella want to forget all of the weird feelings she was having. 

“Yeah...” Stella trailed off, propping her knees up on the table. “Just tired, I think.”

“Okay,” Niall answered slowly. “You’d tell me if something happened at home, wouldn’t you?” 

Stella’s instinct was to reassure him, so she did, sitting up. “Nothing happened at home,” she’d said, twirling her pen between her fingers in a way that would surely give her away. 

“Are you sure because...” he trailed off. “It feels like you’re upset with me or something” 

“I’m not upset with you,” Stella assured him, dropping her pen into her lap. She rubbed her forehead, sighing. “I just don’t know, Niall.”

“You don’t know what?” Niall asked, eyebrows furrowing as he looked at her. 

“I just don’t know how you can get out of a three year relationship and already start kissing the first uni girl you see,” Stella rushed out, looking up at him. 

“What do you mean?” Niall asked, eyebrows furrowing even more as he thought about what she’d just said. 

“Isn’t there like a grieving process? Sadness or something,” she emphasized. 

“There is,” Niall nodded. “There is a grieving process when you’ve lost something, but Stella,” he chuckled. “I didn’t lose anything.” 

“You just feel absolutely nothing for Nadia?” Stella asked, eyebrows raising. 

“I mean...” he trailed off, shrugging. “No I don’t feel anything. D-do you want me to feel something for her?”

“I mean no,” Stella shook her head. “But what does that say about you? How quickly you moved on.”

“I don’t know,” Niall shook his head. “I don’t care what it says about me either. Do you?” 

“I don’t know,” Stella shrugged. 

Niall ran his fingers through his hair, letting out a sigh, “Stella, don’t tell me you think you’re a rebound.”

“I don’t think that,” Stella argued petulantly. She sighed. “Maybe a little.” 

“Rebounds are for people that don’t know who the fuck they are or what they want,” Niall answered her, shaking his head. “Is it so hard to believe that I actually really like you?”

Stella didn’t answer him. Instead she kept her eyes glued on the book in her lap. A page from Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina. She’d reread it ten times and still couldn’t think about anything but the nagging feeling she had in her belly. 

After a moment, Niall asked, “do you need reassurance?” 

It was painful to ask for that, Stella thought, drawing her eyes up at him. She felt like she could cry. She really was tired, exhausted after the weekend she had, exhausted after spending that whole weekend thinking about Niall. She wished he was there with her, getting high with Louis and her, talking to her mother, meeting Ludo’s date. All of it she wished so desperately that he’d been there. 

“Stella,” Niall murmured hand smoothing over her sweatpant clad thigh. “Y’know you actually have to talk to me.” 

“I don’t know,” Stella finally mumbled, shaking her head. 

“Is there anything you do know?” Niall asked, voice soft enough to make the knot in her throat slip away. 

“I wish you came to Doncaster with us,” Stella murmured, winding her fingers into her t-shirt. 

“I wish that too,” he admitted. “But there will be other opportunities.” 

“Will there?” Stella urged, lifting her head to look at him. 

“Yes,” Niall emphasized with a laugh. He pulled her jittery fingers from her shirt, sliding them into his. “Do you think something bad is gonna happen?” 

“Maybe,” Stella mumbled, unable to find the same humor he’d found. 

“Nothing bad will happen as long as I can help it,” Niall told her, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. “And sitting here worrying about it is wasting precious time.” 

Stella gave him a look like it wasn’t the right thing to say. Niall rolled his eyes at her, sighing, “Stella, you have to read 200 pages by the morning. I’d say that’s precious time being wasted.” 

“I don’t want to read this anymore,” Stella said, closing the book. 

“Well what do you want to do?” Niall asked, eyeing her skeptically.

“I don’t know,” Stella answered, sounding frustrated. 

“Look at me, would ya?” Niall asked, frustrated right back. 

“Why?” She mumbled, eyes now glued on the cover of the book. 

“I said look at me,” he repeated sternly, in a voice that made Stella look at him. Eyes wide and sorrowful in a way that only confusion could manage to do. “You have to cut this out.” 

Stella gave him another look because that wasn’t the right thing to say either. Niall rolled his eyes at her, tilting her chin up, “I mean it. Cut it out. I didn’t do anything,” he urged, searching her eyes. “Everything you’re upset about is in your head. It’s not real.” 

Stella wanted to argue that it was real, except for the first time since she’d seen Niall, she wanted to kiss him. Like really kiss him, the way he did on her birthday with tongue and teeth and hands that wandered. 

“Say okay,” Niall commanded when she didn’t respond. 

“Okay,” Stella said, eyelashes fluttering. “Are you going to kiss me?” 

“If you want me to,” he answered, his hand sliding from her chin to the curve of her jaw until his fingers pressed against the hollow of her neck.

“I do,” Stella managed to get out. 

Niall leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to her lips. It was a moment of relief all over again. Stella’s eyes fell shut and she let out a sigh against his lips. The lingering kiss morphed into one of desperation as Niall pulled her closer. 

The angle was awkward, a strain on her neck. Stella did the only thing she could think of. She all but pushed herself onto him, fingers curling into his t-shirt. At some point the motion set them off balance and the kiss ended just as Niall gripped her hips to save from falling off the futon. 

“Easy,” Niall murmured, lips spreading into a smile. 

Stella felt herself begin to smile as she straddled him properly. And that was the Stella he loved to see, shining eyes and flushed cheeks, “there she is,” Niall murmured, pushing his fingers through her hair. “Stel, I missed your smile. I haven’t seen it in days.” 

It felt like she hadn’t smiled in days either, but there she was, cheeks beginning to ache. Niall’s hands slid over her bum, pulling her closer, impossibly so. He kissed her again, far too innocent for someone that had a hold of her so tightly. Niall had a way of getting Stella to take the lead. He’d give her the very least until she had no choice but to kiss him fervently, fingers tugging at his hair until he groaned against her lips. 

Stella found herself to be a little too good at taking control of him. The desire pooled in her belly as they kissed until the ache between her legs became too much and she had to pull away, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand, “easy,” she said as if this whole thing wasn’t her doing. 

“I’m trying,” Niall breathed, fingers sliding under her shirt to press against her back. “Unfair when you pull my hair. I think you do it on purpose.” 

Stella gave him a smile, her best innocent smile. Who would believe that of Stella? Probably only Niall. He was eager to keep that secret for her, though. 

taglist: @niallsguitarsthings​ @exoticniall​ @jadore-lamer​ @nannav47​ @coconutdawn​ @stayclose-holdsteady​ @my0nly-remedy​

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[larryfanficwriter98]

Chapter Eight

*Fake It Until You Make It Real*

"What are you cooking for Halloween this year?" Liam asked as he and Niall sat beside him in the break room.

"If it's Shepherd's Pie count me in." Niall said eagerly digging into a mushy microwaved meal.

"Actually, you two are not invited." Harry said without looking at them as he dug into his own meal.

"Wait...what." Liam said confused, "we always come over for Halloween."

"I invited Louis to invite his family over so we can all meet and spend a day together."

"We're family." Liam pouted making Harry roll his eyes in amusement.

"Fine how about this I'll tell him Zayn can come as well and you guys can be there. You can be on babysitting duty."

"Perfect. So, what are you making?" Harry shook his head as he pulled his phone out, it was currently three in the morning and Louis was asleep, but he wanted to tell him before he forgot.

****

"Hi mama." Louis said answering the facetime with an eyeroll and a smile,

"You send me a cryptic text asking about my plans on Halloween and then you don't respond to my five texts."

"I was busy." Louis defended as he dumped the contents of his third junk drawer out and stared at everything, "God I'm a mess...how the hell am I a functioning adult with a child?"

"You can't be nonfunctional with a baby Lou. Do you need help? What's wrong?"

"What’s wrong is that somehow every drawer in this apartment has turned into a storage junk drawer combination. How did this happen!? I'm an adult."

"You're in your early twenties."

"Exactly an adult."

"Debatable." Louis rolled his eyes grinning at his mother, "why are you worried about your drawers?"

"I'm not worried about them I'm cleaning them out." Louis defended.

"What for?"

"It's October and my rent contract ends in November. Need I say more?"

"So, what's with the Halloween question?" She asked.

"Well Harry suggested we all get together at his place for a dinner and trick or treating. He usually makes a big dinner anyway with his family and he thinks it will be the easiest way for us all to meet." Louis explained.

"All of us as in his family and us?"

"Yes. Also, Zayn, Liam, and Niall. The last two are his best friends they always come for Halloween too and he thinks they and Zayn could be potential ice breakers if we need them to be."

"It sounds lovely Louis, what time should we be there."

"Anytime. Harry says it's an all-day thing at his place. He also has guest rooms if it gets too late since you have a long drive back home."

"I'll talk with the others, but I think we can make it. Keep me posted about it all and let me know if I should bring anything."

"Nothing except yourself and the others."

****

Saturday morning Louis glared at Harry as he climbed into his Murano passenger seat at eight in the morning.

"Good morning handsome." Harry said brightly, smiling wide as he looked at Louis which pissed him off more.

"Don’t talk to me Harold." Louis grumbled, "when I agreed to this, I thought I'd be waking up at eight not at six on a Saturday. I hate you so much right now."

"Oh, relax you'll be fine."

"So, what's the game plan when we meet him? Is he like expecting us to I don't know...like-"

"Louis we will be in a public place eating breakfast and talking to a lawyer. I highly doubt he's expecting us to swap spit together. Relax he just wants to meet you and probably make sure you're not y'know a call boy or something."

"He wants to make sure you didn't find me on Craigslist." Louis said smirking when Harry glared, his cheeks turning red, "the biggest thing he'll be looking at is making sure we're comfortable with each other which we are. He'll probably ask me how we met and things like that so have you told him anything I need to know about? Like if we have a favorite movie or whatever?"

"You're an ass but no I told him how we met and how long we've been together and how fast everything went with us, but he doesn't really care about the other things. He'll ask you about Freddie, he'll ask about your relationship with everyone and your family. He'll ask about your siblings and how Freddie is handling everything. He'll ask if I pressured you in anyway and if this court stuff influenced you at all. Just tell him what you told your mother that it did influence things but not in a negative way. He's not looking for a Saint he's looking to make sure we're not doing this for the wrong reasons."

"That I can do. Freddie is going to be pissed if he finds out I had Alabama's without him." Louis said watching as they turned into the car park for the famous restaurant.

"We just won't tell him." Harry said grinning at him, "come on let's get inside." Harry opened the middle console and pulled out his wallet and phone.

"He'll know. He has this like sixth sense whenever someone has Alabama's." Louis told him as he climbed out of the car,

"Then I'll take him to Alabama's for breakfast without you one day and we'll be even."

"Without me?" Harry didn't say anything only took his hand in his own and led him to the door opening it for him, "I don't think I like the sound of that plan Harold."

"Too bad."

****

Louis really did mean to go home after the breakfast meeting, but somehow, he had been coerced into coming back to Harry's place. Harry had fallen asleep two minutes after laying his head on Louis' lap which was how Louis found himself grading papers using Harry's back as his surface. Louis had a wet spot on his pants from Harry's drool and he was fairly sure his legs were permanently asleep and if he happened to have video footage of him snoring well it was potential blackmail usage for the future. It was also how he found himself completely trapped when his mother facetimed him at their usual Saturday afternoon time. He quickly ended it and sent a picture of Harry's head on his lap.

To: Mummy❤ Can't talk he's snoring too loud and no I can't move because my legs have lost all feeling. Raincheck? Also do you see that drool puddle on my pants?! He's 30! He shouldn't drool at this age! I thought they grew out of this?!?

From: Mummy❤ So Mister Perfect is not so Perfect??🤔

To: Mummy❤ You'd think!! But noOoOo. Even his snores are cute. 😒😡

Louis sat there grading papers and texting his mother about his breakfast meeting and the lawyer for a few hours until she had helped the girls with homework questions and around the house things. After finishing his grading finally, he absolutely had to get up to relieve his bladder. So, after a lot of maneuvering and cursing and not so gently guiding of a head he was finally able to stand and head to the bathroom. Once that was done, he headed back to the living room and after little debating, he curled up beside Harry on the couch pulling the blanket over them both as he took a very late in the day nap.

When Louis woke up it was extremely late, and he groaned rolling onto his stomach when he realized he spent his Saturday grading papers and napping.

"Good evening sleeping beauty." Harry said making Louis lift his head to stare at Harry with a glare. Harry wasn't fazed however and instead seemed even more amused as he leaned over and pressed a kiss to Louis' forehead.

"I was just about to leave you this lovely note here, but you woke up just in time for me to say it in person." That was when Louis noticed Harry was dressed in scrubs and a white lab coat and a jacket to fight the chilly air October brought. "I have to go. I made dinner though you can take the leftovers home if you want. I have a set of keys here for you so you can drive back home it's to the Murano I'll take my Audi tonight. I also left you a choice of pullovers all with medical dad jokes you're welcome. And I wrote down that you are more than welcome to stay here for the night. You don't have to leave. I also apologized for falling asleep on you and trapping you here." Harry said setting the note on the coffee table as he sat on the edge of the couch rubbing a hand over Louis' back. Louis groaned when he massaged his shoulder making Harry chuckle but also continue with both hands.

"Is this only with the finance package or does this come with the husband package as well?" Louis asked hearing Harry laugh as he kneaded between his shoulder blades.

"It comes with the husband package with added benefits." Louis laughed and swatting at him.

"Typical men." He complained chuckling as he looked at Harry rolling on to his back, "I will eat then I will go home and finish some things there and depending on the time will depend on if I come back. Deal?"

"Deal. The set of keys has the spare house key on them. Just make sure you lock up whenever you leave and before you go to sleep if you do come back. I need to leave before I'm late, I stayed as long as I could to wait for you."

"You could have woken me up."

"It's fine you probably needed it anyway. I will see you later either when I get home or probably during the week. We can have pizza together one night."

"Sounds like a plan. Have a good night. Save lives. Y'know typical doctor stuff."

"You too. Be safe driving and I'm not just saying that because you're driving my car. It's a Saturday night keep yourself focused."

"I'll be fine." Louis told him smiling, Harry huffed then leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss against his forehead then nose then he pressed a chaste kiss to Louis' lips before he stood up.

"Make sure you eat mister. Doctor's order."

"Uh huh. Whatever." Louis said kicking him lightly as he grabbed his keys and wallet. Harry's shot a playful glare at him before he rounded the couch and leaned over pressed another kiss to his lips. "Go...leave so I can go back to sleep and lie about eating." Louis said swatting at him.

"I want photo evidence of you eating." Harry said before he opened his front door and left the house. Louis laid on the couch for a solid twenty minutes before he dragged himself off of it and into the kitchen making himself a plate of the chicken stir fry before he headed home to finish up some cleaning before Freddie came home the next day. He did end up going back to Harry’s house mostly because he liked his tea options over his own, but Harry didn’t need to know that. Also he figured making himself much more comfortable inside the house would be a good thing considering their families were meeting here in a few short weeks.

[eternalstann]

Celebrity

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings: swearing?? Flufff

Summary: You and Tom just so happen to each other’s celebrity crushes 🥰

"Y/N, Y/N!" The photographers called out as you walked along the red carpet. You loved your job but the photographers and paparazzi were endlessly annoying. It was your third VMA's. You'd been a very successful singer for a while now, but this year you'd done your first big movie. You'd gotten nominated for 4 awards. You gave one last smile before walking into the building. Your manager walking to your side immediately.

"You're performing at 10:15 so enjoy the show while you can- I'll come get you around 9:30. You're sitting in the front row. We wanted to push the fact that you're focusing on acting right now so we sat you next to other actors." He glanced at his phone, "Brie Larson on your left and - Tom Holland on your right." You tried to hold in your excitement at the names he said. You were a huge fan of Marvel movies, so to sit next to Captain Marvel and Spiderman?! You were ecstatic. "Thank you Donovan" you spoke, kissing him on the cheek before walking off to mingle.

You snuck behind your friend Shawn Mendes when you saw him slapping up Drake. "Omg my two favorite Canadians!" You joked, hugging Shawn and then Drake. "Y/N, you look incredible" Shawn spoke, gripping your waist and taking in your appearance. "Like a snack" Drake added, snatching you from Shawn and twirling you around. "Thank you guys! And a snack?! Y'all look like full course meals and dessert" They both laughed at your comment. "So what's the moves for tonight mamacita?" Drake asked and you smirked, "You already know, everyone back at my place for the after party" you exclaimed, already excited. "Aye!" They both cheered in unison. It was very well known you threw the best parties in Hollywood as of late. "Text me and let me know if you need anything love" Shawn hugged you again, and told him you would before walking to your seat.

You felt eyes on your back, but when you turned around there was no one there.

Little did you know your seat neighbor Tom Holland had watched your whole interaction. He was chatting with Jake Gyllenhaal, Jacob and his brother Harry when he saw you. "Holy shit, that's Y/N" Jacob whispered, pointing over at you. "Every song she makes is an absolute banger! Tom go introduce us" Harry joined in. "No fucking way she's literally talking to Drake, I can't go over there" Toms heart ached watching you giggle with the two men. He'd literally never spoken to you, but he'd developed quite the crush on you. He watched all your interviews, and loved your music. You made him feel like he was in elementary school again. "Just go!" Jake exclaimed, shoving him in your direction.

Tom stumbled before catching his stride and following behind you. He didn't know if he should jog to catch up with you, or do an awkward speed walk, so he just kept his normal pace. He mentally kicked himself when he didn't make it to you before you got to your seat. He tried to causally walk past you as you sat down, but did a double take and tripped over his own feet when he saw his face on the chair beside you. Tom literally wished the floor would swallow him up so he could disappear forever when he hit the ground in front of you.

"Oh my god! Are you okay?" You ask the man laying at your feet, and you could hardly contain your excitement when you realized it was none other than Tom fucking Holland. "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine" he insisted, pushing himself up with the help of your extended arm. Once he's off the ground and in his chair you introduce yourself. "Hey, I'm Y/N" you beam at him, turning your body to face him. "I know who you are, I think everyone does" he laughs, reaching out his hand for you to shake. You ignore his cue, pulling him in for a hug. "You smell really nice" he murmurs and it was your turn to laugh. "Thank you; it's so nice to meet you!" You tell him and he shakes his head. "Me?! It's nice to meet you! I'm a huge fan" he expresses and your heart races, he's a fan?

The next twenty minutes turn into a compliment competition; the two of you just spewing nice things to each other and laughing. You even joke through the start of the show, Brie shushing the two of you which only makes you laugh harder. "What are you doing tonight?" You ask him while a presenter was rambling on about something. "Nothing, why?" He quips back and he can feel himself start to sweat, were you going to ask him out?

"and the winner of the best collaboration award.....Y/N and Drake for Rewind!"

You were caught completely off guard, you and Tom both look at each other in shock. "That's you, get up there!" He exclaims, a wide smile on his face. He stands with you and walks you to the stage, he hands you off to Drake at the steps and you thank him. You reach the microphone and stand in front of the huge crowd, Drake next to you and begin to talk. "Wow, um, I really wasn't expecting this-" you cringe in your head, everyone says that- "but thank you all so much! We truly have the best fans in the world. Your support is unmatched and I love you all so much!" You cheer raising up your moon man and stepping aside to let Drake talk. You weren't even really listening to what he was saying, all you could focus on was Tom standing there staring at you with a face full of admiration. You didn't want to be corny but you were positive you were in love with him. And he looked really good. Like you wanted to tie him up keep him all to yourself good.

Next thing you know your being escorted off the stage and you hug your manager backstage. "Congratulations" he tells you and thank him, before turning to make your way back to your seat. "Girl where are you going? It's 9:26, you need to start getting ready" you sigh, you loved performing but you wanted to go back with Tom. You scroll through your Instagram while getting your hair done and see Brie Larsons story, you click on it. You smile at the selfie the two of you took. What you weren't expecting though was to see a video of you and Tom laughing together with the caption "get a room🤣🥴". You immediately go to your own profile and begin to go through your tagged pictures. A lot of you in your dress on the red carpet, screen caps of you and drake accepting the award and then boom; you and Tom. You click on reposts and screenshots of the video and read some of the captions.

'Yessss Y/N get that superhero dick!'

'Omg they look so good together- we have no choice but to stan'

'Ew bye he better stay away from the queen'

'and I oop-'

'Tom shooting his shot 👀'

'Thank you Brie Larson this is the content we deserve'

“She always fuck with white boys smh”

And so it begins you you think to yourself. You realize you never even followed Tom, on your real account at least. Only your account you use to lurk, so you press the button the blue button. Tom doesn't leave your mind the rest of the time you spend getting ready. You don't think about anything besides Tom until the time you start performing. And even then, you can't help but look for him in the crowd.

Your performance goes almost perfectly, you have the best adrenaline rush afterwards. But once again you're sat back in the hair and makeup chair. You're not gonna lie you probably needed it after how much you were sweating on stage. They bring out your dress, but it's a different one. A short backless white dress, much different from your earlier gown. "Donovan what is this?" You ask your manager. "Your dress for the party. We have to go make sure everything is all set- and yes I know you wanna go see your little boo thing Tom but we don't have time!" He replies, motioning for you to put on the dress. You groan and slip it on before following him out to the car waiting outside.

You get back to your house, doing a quick walk through to make sure everything is in place. Taste testing the food and liquor. You knew tonight was going to be crazy. Everyone would be amped up from the awards and live performances, you were starting to get excited. You were proud of your party throwing skills- until you realized you never got the chance to invite Tom. "Shit!" You shout, actually face palming. You pull out your phone and try to figure out the best way to get a hold of him. You text Zendaya- she would definitely have his number. Seven minutes go by with no response, the party starts in less than an hour. "Fuck it.." you mutter, opening Instagram and typing out a DM to Tom,

'Hey Tom, I'm throwing a party tonight and I would love for you to come. You can bring whoever you want. Hope to see you there!'

So basic, but it'd have to do. You didn't wanna look too thirsty or something. You sent the address in a separate message. You didn't even notice your leg bouncing up on down in anticipation, waiting for him to respond. You were pulled from your thoughts by the sound of your door opening and closing, then voices. It was Shawn, Drake and some of their friends. "Hey guys" you chirp and they come over to greet you.  "Do either of you guys know Tom Holland?" You ask and they raise they're eyebrows. "No 'how are you?' Or anything first?" Drake would laugh you would just rolled your eyes, "I'm serious!"

"Spider-Man? No I don't know him, but we follow each other on Instagram" Shawn spoke. “Ughh you guys are no help-“ you were cut off by the sound of your phone dinging. It was Tom! You take a deep breath before opening the message.

“Oh I’ll absolutely be there, see you soon love. Thanks for the invite xx”

You could feel yourself swooning and let out a little squeal. “He’s coming!” You inform your guests before the doorbell rang again. You go to open it and this time there’s a multitude of people waiting to come in - not to mention the linebof black cars and limos in the round-about dropping off even more guests. Bella & Gigi Hadid, Niall Horan, Halsey, ASAP Rocky & Big Sean, Normani and more. You hug everyone who comes in, joking with Sean about his song playing through the speakers. You drink and talk with everyone, but you can’t help but keep glancing at the door. You were really waiting for one person. After half an hour you finally settle in, maybe he wasn’t coming.

You’re sitting on the couch, on Bella’s lap pretending to listen to Lewis Capaldi talk about how nervous he is for his U.S tour. Your attention is drawn to the door though when you hear a familiar laugh. “Tom!” You exclaim, unable to hide your excitement immediately going over to him. He hugs you and you wish he’d never let go. He does though before introducing you to his guests. “This is my brother Harry, and this is my friend Jacob” he informs you and you smile at both of them before embracing them as well. “It’s so great to meet you! Make yourselves at home, can I get you some drinks?” You inquire, gesturing towards the kitchen. “They got it” he spoke whisking you away.

“Listen, Y/N, I know you hear this all the time but I think you’re an amazing woman and I’d love to take you out sometime”

“I’d love that Tom!”

________________

PT 2 HERE!

lmaooo what a shitty ending, but I feel like this has potential to be a series but idk. I like Y/N and I like kind of shy Tom 🤧

Love you all, feel free to hmu ❤️

[angelsfalling16]

Just Wanna Be Happy

Read it on ao3 (Chapter 1/5)

Summary: After a night of drunken party games, Baz tries to remember what happened and whose number is on his arm while also dealing with the fact his two best friends aren't talking to each other anymore.

Word Count: 2162

A/N: I wrote this back in November but never got around to posting it, and since I didn't feel like writing today, I thought that it was time to put this out into the world. I hope you all like it!

Title is from the song "Happy" by Leona Lewis

Thank you @ace-of-haerts for beta-reading :)

***

Baz

“I’m going to kiss him.”

“No, you’re not.” Dev puts his arm out to stop me, but I haven’t actually tried to move.

The party has begun to die down, and I can’t remember how much I’ve had to drink, but I think I’m finally ready to make a move. This is my time to finally tell Simon how I feel about him. I’ve been staring at him from our place here against the wall for far too long, watching him from the edge of the party.

I’m not sure why I agreed to come. I don’t know why I’m drinking either. I don’t usually do it this much, but graduation is coming soon, and I’m worried about what comes next. I guess tonight was a chance to forget everything for a little bit and just let go. Doing that with a drunk Simon in the room was probably not the best idea, but it has given me this opportunity to do something about these feelings that I’ve been holding inside of me for years.

“Why not?” I’m pouting, but I can’t get my brain to tell my face to stop doing that.

“Because tomorrow when you wake up, not only will you have a killer headache, but you’ll hate yourself.”

“I already do that.”

He sighs as if he wishes that he was doing anything but standing here having this conversation with me, and I’m pretty sure that I know exactly where he’d rather be.

“Then you’ll hate yourself even more.”

“But at least I’ll have kissed him,” I sigh. The more I say it, the better an idea it sounds.

“Doesn’t he have a girlfriend?”

“Nope,” I say, popping the ‘p’. “Apparently, they broke up a few weeks ago.”

“So, you want to be the rebound.”

“No. I want to be the guy who shows him exactly what he’s been missing all this time. Me,” I say, jabbing myself in the chest for emphasis.

“You’re being ridiculous, Baz.”

“You’re the one who hasn’t stopped staring at their best friend since we got here.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says, lifting his chin defiantly.

“Yeah right. I think that you should do what I’m going to do.”

“Which is?”

“Kiss the guy I’m in love with.”

“Sorry to say that I’m a little too sober for that.”

“Or maybe you’re sober enough to make it perfect.”

Dev opens his mouth to say something else, but we’re distracted by the sudden commotion in the middle of the room. We’re in somebody’s living room - I can’t remember whose - and most of the furniture has been shoved to the side to make room for a makeshift dance floor. Not that anyone here can actually dance. It has been torture to watch people shake their hips and fling their arms around in what is meant to be a dance but is likely to take someone’s eye out. Simon has been the worst.

“Hey, everyone,” someone yells. “I think we should play a game of spin the bottle.”

A few people cheer but I groan. “Spin the bottle is a childish game.”

“Oh, but it provides the perfect opportunity for you to kiss Simon.” I can tell that Dev wasn’t being serious, but I don’t care because he’s right.

“I’m in,” I call, lifting my cup. “But first I need more to drink,” I add, looking down into my empty cup with a frown.

“Oh, no, you don’t.” Dev plucks the cup from my hand. “You’re staying over at my house tonight, and I can’t have you throwing up everywhere. My parents will kill me. And you.”

I frown and reach for the cup, but he sets it down on a table and drags me over to the carpet where some of the others are creating a circle.

I’m about to gripe at him for taking my drink when I see Simon take a seat opposite me in the circle, and I get distracted by the messy flop of curls that has grown long enough to fall in his eyes. I imagine pushing it out of his face before carding my fingers through the dense mass of curls atop his head.

I barely notice that Dev has disappeared until he returns, taking a seat next to me and placing a cup in my hand. I sniff it before looking at Dev with a frown, and he shrugs.

“I thought you said I couldn’t drink anymore.”

“You’re going to need it. Plus, watching you drink is fun. It’s going to make this game much more entertaining.”

I’m pretty sure there’s meant to be an insult in there somewhere, but my head is spinning too much for me to be able to find it. Taking a sip of my drink, ignoring the way it burns my throat on the way down, I watch as someone’s hand reaches out to spin the empty soda bottle that somebody procured from the other room, and I feel my heart start to race with anticipation.

I’m finally going to kiss Simon Snow.

***

Dev was right when he said that I’d wake up with a killer headache. I feel like crap, and there is no way that I am ever getting out of this bed. I pull the blankets up over my head and try to fall back asleep.

“Morning, Sunshine,” an irritatingly familiar voice singsongs from nearby. I groan, shoving the blanket back down and opening my eyes. I instantly regret it as the light coming in through the window hits my face.

“Oh, god. What time is it?”

“Almost eleven. Here, I brought you some water.”

He pushes himself away from the wall that he was leaning against near the door and holds out a bottle of water. I take it and unscrew the cap, but it feels like too much effort to sit up and drink it, so I just hold it.

“Check your arm,” Dev says, so I look down at the arm holding the water. There’s nothing there, so I look up at Dev like he’s lost it. He rolls his eyes. “Your other arm.”

I lift my other arm to inspect it, and across the inside are scribbled the words “call me” along with someone’s phone number and a little heart.

“Ugh.” I say, squeezing my eyes shut for a moment. “Who wrote this? Please tell me it wasn’t that girl I kissed.”

“You don’t remember?”

“I don’t remember much of last night,” I say honestly, pushing myself up just enough to drink some water, hoping it will soothe the burning in my throat.

“It wasn’t a girl,” he says. “And you should definitely call the number.”

“Who was it?”

He shakes his head. “I think you should find out for yourself.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

I look at my arm once more, considering it, but I don’t want to call some random person. Especially not with my head pounding this much.

“What were you doing in here by the way? Watching me sleep?”

“Er, not exactly. Niall is in my room.”

“What?” I ask, genuinely surprised. “Why?”

“He was too drunk to go home, so he texted his mom and told her that he was staying here.”

“Did you two…?” I raise my eyebrows at him suggestively.

“No!” He hisses quickly. “He passed out on my floor, and he was still asleep when I woke up. I didn’t want him to wake up to find me watching him, so I came in here to talk to you.”

“Wait, you two kissed last night,” I say, flashes of the game last night coming back to me. “A lot.”

“We did,” Dev says, smiling as a blush spreads across his cheeks.

He looks happy, the really gross kind of happy that makes me want to throw up. Or maybe I’m just feeling nauseated from how much I drank last night. Either way, I need to find something to throw up in before I throw up all over this bed, which is much too comfortable to deserve that.

“Does that mean you two are a couple now?”

“No.” The smile slips from his face. “Just because we kissed, doesn’t mean it meant anything.”

“Are you sure?” I ask dubiously, taking another sip of my water.

“Yeah.” Dev shrugs. “It didn’t mean anything.”

I can see right through the lie, but I don’t press it. I know how much Dev cares for Niall, but I also know what it’s like to be in love with someone who barely notices you and who you are dying to kiss no matter the consequences.

“Oh my god,” I shout, sitting up too fast, some of the water splashing onto my arm. The world begins to spin, but I can’t get the image out of my head. It’s another thing that happened last night that I had forgotten about up until this moment.

“What?” Dev asks, looking far too amused.

“I kissed Simon last night.”

He laughs, and I toss a pillow at him. It isn’t quite as satisfying as I had hoped it would be.

“You sure did. More than once from what I recall.”

“What?” I only remember one kiss, and it didn’t last as long as I would have wanted.

“After the game ended and people were starting to leave, you pressed him against the wall and kissed him one more time.”

“Why did you let me do that?” I groan, my head falling into my hands, my cheeks burning with humiliation.

“You were pretty determined. You said that if it was your only chance to kiss him, you weren’t just going to let him leave.”

“Oh, god. I can’t show my face at school on Monday.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“Yes, it is. He probably knows how I feel about him now. Did he say anything to you about me?”

“No, but why would he? We aren’t friends, and the only people I saw him talk to were you and that girl Penny.”

“He talked to me? Like, an actual conversation? We weren’t fighting?”

“Yep.”

“I can’t remember anything that he said.”

“Well, you know what you should do?”

“What?”

“Call that number.”

“Why? I don’t care about whoever it is.”

“You might be surprised.”

“No.” I shake my head determinedly.

“Fine. It’s your choice. Shower and then let’s go get breakfast. I’m going to go wake Niall.”

I groan, not wanting to get up.

“Make sure you write down the number first,” Dev calls as he walks out of the room, and I fall back onto the bed. I don’t get why he’s so obsessed with the number.

After a few minutes, I finally get up. The world seems to spin as I move to the overnight bag that I brought over yesterday before we left for the party.

I flick on the lights in the bathroom, and I cringe. Maybe it’ll be okay if I can keep my eyes shut all day.

When I pull my t-shirt up over my head, I catch sight of the ink on my arm in the mirror and sigh. The handwriting looks vaguely familiar but not enough for me to figure out who wrote it, and I still can’t remember that part of the evening. I don’t remember much of what happened, especially not after the game of spin the bottle broke up.

Did I talk to someone? Dev says I talked to Simon, but it definitely wasn’t him. Someone else I kissed during the game must have gotten the wrong idea, but the other people I kissed are just blurry faces in my mind right now.

Sighing, I grab my phone off the counter and snap a picture of it.

Maybe someday I’ll get over Simon. Perhaps this mystery guy is the key to moving on.

After a long shower, I head out to find Dev and Niall, still feeling a little nauseous but better than I did before.

When I find them in Dev’s room, Dev is sitting at his desk, staring out the window, and Niall is staring hard at the floor. Dev stands up when he hears me enter, and Niall follows suit but won’t look at anyone. Dev is wearing a deep frown as he glances over at him, but neither of them says anything. Something must have gone wrong between them, which doesn’t bode well for me.

If Dev and Niall can’t find a way to get together, there is no chance for me and Simon.

“Let’s go,” I say, slipping on my sunglasses before we even start walking down the stairs.

They both stay silent as they follow me, which is only further proof that something is wrong, but my head is still pounding, and I’m not in the mood to help them work through this right now. Maybe after we eat.

This breakfast is not going to be pleasant, I think. Except, I may have accidentally said it aloud.