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narryffdreaming · 2 days

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lia and harry's story (two)

summary: harry is a bartender and lia lives right across the street. rating: +18 || warnings: mental health (anxiety) and smut (here and there) word count: 15,7k

(ONE)

Harry never texted her.

Of course he didn’t. And it wasn’t as if Lia actually expected him to, but then why did he even bother asking for her number in the first place? Why pretend he wanted to talk to her? Why pretend there was the slight chance they would ever interact again?

Lia tightened the grip around her grocery bag and sighed. Her mind was about to explode. It really was. She was too tired, and not even the fact that it was already Friday and the weekend was ahead of her was enough to cheer her up.

There was just too much going on. She couldn’t stop thinking, so she hadn’t been sleeping very well.

After Harry had left her apartment, Lia had locked the door and leaned her back against it. And then she’d closed her eyes and recalled everything that had just happened — from Harry running after her, to him looking one last time over his shoulder and waving one final goodbye before walking down the stairs.

Their interaction had started for the wrong reasons, but it had been too good to be true, and not at all a fantasy of her mind.

Harry standing in her living room had been real. His words, his stare, his smile. The sound of his laughter. The way he had cared about apologizing to her…

It had all been real, it had all actually happened.

And it had stirred a new feeling of excitement in the pit of her stomach. It had made her walk to the kitchen with a massive grin on her face, then giggle to herself while preparing things for the next day.

Then of course, as minutes went by, everything she had just spent weeks promising herself she wouldn’t do anymore, happened all over again.

She wasn’t proud of it. She tried to stop herself, but she couldn’t. No matter how innocent his actions had been, they were enough to fuel her with endless ideas and possibilities of how that night could’ve ended instead. And although she felt terribly embarrassed to admit, for more than one second she’d allowed herself to truly entertain those thoughts.

She imagined a conversation where she had been interesting and fun enough to captivate him. Or to fascinate him, just as much as he had fascinated her. She imagined her acting confident enough to seduce him, confident enough to flirt with him. She imagined Harry reciprocating the feeling. And a moment where, instead of leaving to go back to work, Harry ended up touching her freely and thoroughly. She imagined him hugging her, kissing her. Making her feel everything she so desperately wanted to feel. She so desperately needed to feel.

By the time she was lying in bed in silence and staring through the window, reality had hit her again: inviting Harry inside of her apartment had been a terrible, terrible idea.

She’d just gone from wondering what being around him would look and be like, to actually knowing it. And no matter how great she could be feeling right then and there, at the end of the day it would only complicate things. She knew that. It would only make everything worse.

At the same time, as ashamed as Lia felt of her imagination, the truth is that Harry’s real words weren’t helping her, either — like when he mentioned he owed her a drink, or when he asked for her number.

Those very real words weren’t easy to get rid of. They echoed inside Lia’s mind constantly, ruining all of her attempts of never thinking about him again. They kept her company in the mornings while getting ready for work, then at lunch and in between classes, and also all over the afternoons. They popped up again, randomly, as she jumped off the bus and waved a timid goodbye to the very well-known driver, and again later at night when she took a shower, ordered takeaway and went to bed once again.

During the weekend, because she needed a distraction, once again she’d taken a train back to her parents. And it helped her, mostly because it meant also getting to see her brother and sister-in-law. Something she enjoyed. Something she always thought she should do more often, anyway.

But then it was Monday, and she was back into the real world. Going from her apartment to work. And from work to her apartment.

By Friday, after almost getting no sleep all week and paying no attention to anything but work, she wasn’t only ashamed and embarrassed—she was also sad and frustrated at how lame and uneventful her life was.

She was tired of living inside of her imagination, and angry at only watching others reaching their dreams and happiness. She was mad for not being able to let things go, and she was bored of the way she handled things.

And, above it all, she was longing for someone who could take all her loneliness away.

It was a mix of emotions that she could only express by huffing and grumbling to herself as she stood in front of her building, one hand inside of her stupid gigantic bag while she frowned and blindly searched for her keys.

She had only left the house to go to the grocery store, so why did she even take that thing bag with her? And why was there always so much stuff inside it?

She was so distracted and so madly annoyed at herself and her life, that she didn’t hear the bam when Harry closed the door of his car; nor the beep beep when he pressed the alarm and locked it; nor the pitter-patter when he got closer to her building. She also didn’t notice when he stopped by the first step, nor when he leaned his side against the railing and crossed his arms on his chest, nor when he watched her with an amused smirk on his face.

“Need some help there?”

Lia jumped and turned around, and the gasp that left her mouth was muffled by the crash of her bag hitting the ground, right next to her feet.

“Shit.” Harry ran up the steps in a blink of an eye, then squatted in front of her.

Lia tucked her chin and looked down, letting her arms hang loosely by her sides and watching as he gathered the few objects that had fallen from her bag and threw them back inside.

He was wearing her favorite t-shirt — again. The old tight fabric perfectly outlining the muscles on his back and shoulders as he moved his arms here and there.

His voice was a soft murmur in the back of her ringing ears, and she only noticed he was actually saying something when he placed one elbow on his bent knee and looked up at her with a frown on his face.

“Sorry.” Lia shook her head and took a step back. “W—what?”

“I was just apologizing.” He stood up, pulling her bag along with him by the thick strap. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

Lia tightened her fingers around the single grocery bag she was holding, gripping at it as if her sanity depended on that frozen pizza she’d just bought for dinner.

“Right.” She nodded slowly, then licked her chapped lips. “It’s fine, yeah. You didn’t scare me.”

Harry half-snorted, half-scoffed. “I sure did, love. Is everything alright?”

Lia slumped her shoulders, and a lough sigh escaped through her lips and nose. She closed her eyes and scratched her forehead, then told him the exact same lie she’d been telling every single person who’d asked that same question in the last couple days.

“Yeah… Everything’s fine. Long week at work, that’s all.”

Harry hummed, and when she opened her eyes again, she found him leaning his lower back against the railing of her building.

He looked at her curiously, green eyes staring at her as if he could see a different answer written all over her face.

It was unsettling, but also oddly comforting at the same time.

“Haven’t seen you at the bar anymore,” he finally said.

Lia looked around the street, watching the few people walking by.

She didn’t know how to answer him. She didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t even a question, to begin with. He didn’t see her at the bar, because she didn’t go to the bar. Period. It seemed obvious, and boring.

Was there anything else she could say instead? Something that would be more… Interesting?

“Hey.” Harry circled her wrist with one hand, then gently squeezed.

Lia looked back at him, only to be met with the beautiful sight of a closed-mouth smile, a dimple, and wrinkles around his eyes.

“You sure you’re ok?” He let his arm fall back to his side. “You look tired.”

Lia shifted on her feet and looked down, pulling her hair over one shoulder. She used her fingers to brush through her locks and put down some of her untamed strands. Then, as she rubbed under her nose with the side of one finger, she took her occupied hand to pull the hem of her sweater down.

“I look like a mess, I know,” she mumbled, shrugging one shoulder. “I guess… I haven’t been sleeping that much.”

Or at all.

“That sucks.”

The tone of his voice carried his sentiment, and she fed her curiosity by glancing at him. Once again, she met his green, caring and concentrated eyes, and for a moment she was convinced the entire world had stopped just for them.

There was a curl threatening to fall onto his forehead, and a very obvious stubble around his soft mouth — covering his chin, the sides of his face and the mole on the left side of his bottom lip.

The smoothness of his facial hair drew even more attention to his unprompted dimples, and the boyish breeze around him clashed with the intensity pouring out from his broad shoulders, sharped jaw and thick neck.

He stood so unconcerned in front of her, casually leaning against the cold iron that led to the front door of her building and holding the strap of her bag with both hands as it hung in between his parted legs and—

“Oh my God!” Lia gasped. Shit. She straightened her back and took a step closer to him, stretching her arm to clasp her fingers around the strap of her bag. “‘M so sorry. You’ve been holding this and I just… I didn’t… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Shaking her head, Lia pulled one side of the strap towards her chest, expecting Harry to easily let it go.

Harry tugged back, though, yanking her forward and in between his legs.

A yelp left her throat as she stumbled on her feet, her hand flying up along with the grocery bag to hold herself on his chest.

Harry’s free hand landed on her waist, keeping her in place while his other hand remained attached to the strap of her bag, just like hers.

“Just to be clear,” Harry murmured, sinking his fern green eyes into her dark brown ones. “I never said you look like a mess.”

Lia pressed her lips together and breathed out through her nose, then drifted her eyes down and between them.

Her hand was still on his chest, and a tingling swept up through the back of her neck and across her face — she had just shoved a grocery bag into Harry’s chest. A grocery bag, with a frozen pizza in it.

And he didn’t seem at least one bit bothered by it.

“It’s not what I meant, either, y’know,” he added. “When I said you look tired.”

Lia swallowed the nervousness down, ignoring the way her cheeks were burning.

(Or, well, maybe actually trying to ignore the way her entire body was burning.)

“What… Uh… What did you mean, then?”

Harry shrugged, slightly digging his fingers into her waist. The way he held her, so firmly and yet so casually, made her heart skip a couple of beats. It was hard to pay attention to what was happening whilst also being hyper-aware of everything she was feeling, and an overwhelming emotion she couldn’t name spread all over her chest.

“Just that I can tell you’re not doing ok.”

Oh.

Lia frowned.

Was that…

Was that supposed to make her feel better?

Harry let her waist go and reached for her hand, covering her hold around her bag. “May I?”

She answered by loosening the grip on the strap, and his response was just as instant — he slid his fingers under her palm and held her firmly, meanwhile lowered the item to the floor with his other hand and slowly dropped it between his feet.

“I can also tell you could use a good night of sleep… Or maybe two,” he added. He took his new free fingers to his chest, removing the grocery bag from her other hand and putting it on the floor, too. “Probably could use some loosening up. Have some fun. Laugh a little.”

“Right,” she whispered, if only to stop him from listing everything that was wrong with her life. Or everything that could be better. Or everything that was missing. “That…” She cleared her throat. “Was that supposed to make me feel better? Because… I mean… None of that sounds good, y’know?”

Harry’s lips twitched up.

“Yes, I know…” He nodded. He took his hand up to her face, brushing her skin while putting her hair away and locking it behind her ear. “Sorry. Promise it’s coming from a place of worry, though. That’s all.”

Her chest tightened, and her stomach swirled.

“I—I mean…” Lia licked her lips. “No need to worry. I’ll be fine. It’s nothing.”

“Hmm…” He let his arm fall on his lap, but his other hand kept holding hers, thumb moving in circles and gently brushing her skin. “Is there anything I can do? I’m here if you need any help.”

Lia furrowed her brows. “Like what?”

“I don’t know…” Harry shrugged. “Whatever you need. Or want.”

An awkward laugh left Lia’s mouth, and she shook her head.

If Harry knew what was keeping her awake at night, he wouldn’t be offering that.

“It’s fine. Thank you.”

“Ok,” he murmured. “What about tonight, then? Any plans?”

“Well… I just bought myself a frozen pizza, so…”

“Hmmm.” Harry smiled. “Yummy…”

Lia bit her lip. The low and teasing tone of his voice made her skin tingle.

“And what about after dinner?”

“What—What about it?”

“Any chance you’ll come over to the bar? I still owe you a drink, remember?”

She brushed the tips of her fingers on his t-shirt, drawing random patterns before slowly pulling her arm away from him.

“I... I don’t think so. Sorry. I just... I’m really tired, and I don’t think being around too many people will help… It’s just… I don’t know… I guess… A lot of information? If that makes sense? Sorry, I don’t know how to explain it and—"

“Hey,” he called, squeezing her hand. “I get it. Makes perfect sense.”

“It does?”

“Yeah. Of course. The bar can get really loud and crowded… Not fun at all if all you want is to relax.”

“Yeah…” Lia blinked. Again and again. “That’s… Yeah. Thank you.”

He tilted his head. “Why are you thanking me?”

“I don’t know… For understanding? I guess? Not a lot of people do that.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “That’s ‘cause people suck.”

Lia snorted, and chuckled. She dropped her head, covering her mouth while her shoulders moved up and down.

Hopefully, even though he was standing extremely close to her, Harry wouldn’t see the way her entire face scrunched up when she laughed. It wasn’t a very pretty sight to see.

“Lia?”

She cleared her throat, shaking her head twice before taking a deep breath in and lifting up her chin.

“Yeah?”

Their eyes found each other, and Lia immediately froze.

Harry wasn’t laughing, and he wasn’t smiling. But he wasn’t mad, either. He held her stare with an inquisitive look, and it was so intense that it made her gulp down, unsettled by the hint of something flashing through them—something she was afraid to name, but wasn’t so hard to guess.

“I’m glad you called me an asshole.”

She raised her eyebrows, and her voice was barely a whisper when she asked, “You are?”

“Mhm.” Harry nodded. “I really am.”

“W—why?”

He slid his tongue between his lips, getting them wet. They glistened under the sunset shades that surrounded them, and Lia stared at their slow movements as he spoke. “It brought us here, didn’t it?”

Shutting her mouth, Lia blinked blankly at him.

“I mean, of course I wish I hadn’t made you feel like that in the first place, but still… I’m glad you called me out for it.”

“Yeah I don’t… Usually do that, y’know? That’s why I freaked out and… Why I was so embarrassed about it. I guess I’m just… I’m just not brave enough to speak up. I don’t know.”

“If you don’t mind, I’ll respectfully disagree with that. You seem a lot braver than most people I know.”

Lia looked down, not able to hold back a smile.

“I think…” she murmured. “I think I should go. It’s getting late.”

“Is it? Huh… Could stay here for hours.”

Heat flushed up her neck, then spread all over her face.

“Don’t you have to work tonight?”

“Oh, ooook then.” Harry laughed and stood up, straightening his body and causing her to stumble backwards. “Gotcha. Message received. I’m leaving now.”

“What? No!” Lia shook her head. “What message? I wasn’t—I just… It’s Friday, so I know it gets busier at the bar and… I wasn’t… Y’know… I didn’t mean… I just—"

“Hey, hey…” Harry squeezed her hand, pulling her to step closer and into him again. “I know. I’m just teasing you, love. It’s fine.”

“Ugh… I really suck at this.”

“You don’t.”

“Of course I do.”

“You don’t, and I mean it. If anything, I think it makes you even more interesting.”

They stared at each other.

Stared at each other.

And stared at each other.

They stared and stared, until the trembling inside Lia’s belly felt too much and she looked away.

Harry cleared his throat.

“Ok… I’ll let you go now, since it’s getting late and you’ve got a frozen pizza to cook…” he teased, happiness lingering in his voice. “But I’ll see you around, tho, right?”

“Y-yeah, sure… I—I’ll see you around.”

Lia nodded, forcing her smile to stay longer even though the idea of saying goodbye to him only brought sadness to her chest.

What the hell was happening?

And how long would it take until she saw him again?

— — — — —

Pam was on the phone with her mom and Jim had just walked in the office when Lia’s phone buzzed on the couch, next to her thigh.

How’s pizza? Keeping you company?

Lia furrowed her brows, checking twice that the texts had been sent by an unknown number. And then her heart skipped a beat, and her hands began to sweat.

The idea of Harry reaching out was just as exciting and joyful as scary and unbelievable. To be fair, she couldn’t imagine who else it could be, but she also was too afraid to just assume. What if someone was pranking her? What if he was pranking her?

Her phone buzzed again.

This is Harry, btw.

“Shit,” Lia murmured.

She sat upright and pulled the blanket off from her lap, then grabbed her phone with her trembling and nervous hands.

It took her at least five minutes to come up with a calm and collected answer.

still in the oven hi harry:)

Heat spread through her cheeks.

She was so lame. So boring.

Why was Harry even texting her?!

Her phone buzzed again.

Hii :) That’s a shame You should’ve found yourself better company

Lia stared at her phone and bit her lip.

The opportunity was there, right in front of her. In a fantasy world, she would’ve pointed out how he should’ve kept her company instead. Or maybe she would have invited him to be that better company.

Both options ran through her mind. Both options tinkled on her fingers. And yet, it was Lia’s world she lived in, so she settled for the safest words to say.

it was the best thing I could find at the grocery store

Opposite from her, he didn’t take a second to reply. As if he didn’t even need to think before he spoke.

Hmmm Maybe next time you should try somewhere else, then

She read his text once, and twice. For a moment, an empty feeling in the pit of the stomach turned into nausea, but then her mind seemed to act on its own. Disconnecting from the rest of her body as it directed her fingers to type again.

I might… do you have any recommendations?

The three dots on Harry’s side of the conversation came up quickly, then they flashed for a while. And then, they disappeared.

Lia swallowed hard, watching the screen for another minute or two just to make sure that no more answers would come through. When they didn’t, her stomach clenched, and the nausea became hard to ignore. So she put her phone away and stared back at the TV, pulling her knees to her chest and pretending to pay attention while she kept checking through the corner of her eyes. Then wincing every time she thought about her last text to him. Or how she never got a reply.

Not then, not ten minutes later, and not even half an hour later.

No matter how much she checked her phone, or how many times she peeked at the screen for a new notification, Harry’s answer was nowhere to be seen.

— — — — —

Half a pizza and three episodes of The Office later, a loud knock on her door had Lia jumping on her seat. She paused the show with a frown, then waited to see if something else would happen.

Maybe she could get away with pretending she wasn’t home. Maybe whoever was on the other side would give up and move on to the next door.

But then…

Another knock. And another one.

And Lia finally got on her feet — because what if something bad had happened? What if someone was hurt?

Another knock on the door.

“Just a second!” she yelled, walking as fast as she could with her slippery purple socks.

She rubbed the tip of her nose and took a deep breath, then turned the key around and stepped aside to reveal…

Harry?

Lia jerked her head back, chin slightly going down while she blinked at the tall figure standing in front of her.

“Good evening, miss,” he said with a thick British accent and overly-polite voice. A proud smirk matched the twinkle in his eyes, and it only got deeper when he raised one hand and showed off a glass. “Did you order a mojito?”

Lia just… Stopped functioning? Or her mind went completely blank. And then, after a moment, her body reacted unconsciously, all at once—her arms fell to her sides, her mouth fell open, and her eyes widened.

Maybe only a second passed until Harry chuckled and spoke again. Or maybe a minute, or maybe an hour. It would be hard to tell, and she wasn’t even paying attention to that. It didn’t really matter.

“Surprised?” he asked.

Lia blinked once. Then twice. Then a couple of more times.

“I…”

Dizzy, she shook her head and closed her mouth, swallowing the awkwardness down and darting her tongue between her lips.

“I mean…” She pulled each side of her cardigan with one hand and crossed her arms on top of her belly, covering the old white loose tank top she had at some point of her life turned into pajamas. “Yes? Y—yes! Of course! What are you doing here?”

Harry shrugged. “I brought you a mojito.”

Lia glanced at Harry’s hand, then at his face, then back at his hand. The glass looked minuscule while wrapped inside his long fingers, but it was there. It was actually there.

“But I don’t… I didn’t …”

She furrowed her brows, and slowly dragged her attention back to his eyes.

What the hell was happening?!

“I know.”

“I don’t get it.”

“I brought you a mojito.”

“Why?”

Harry shrugged.

“Because I wanted to cheer you up.”

“But why?”

Amusement crossed Harry’s face. He tilted his head to the side, and his lips twitched into a smile.

“Sorry,” Lia said. “I just…”

She glanced at the glass in his hand. Green leaves, ice cubes and lime wedges. Her stomach fluttered, and she tightened the grip around her own body.

It truly was a mojito. A mojito.

Out of all the things he could’ve surprised her with, that’s what he had chosen?

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath in, then slowly released the air out of her body. It was embarrassing to have to do that in front of him, but it was the only way she knew to be effective and get rid of the tension off her shoulders. It was what she did all the time — breathe, sigh, breathe again. Calm down her desperate heart.

“Sorry.” She blinked, then focused back on his green stare. “I just honestly don’t know how to react… I mean… I wasn’t expecting this. At all.”

His face softened, and he shrugged one shoulder.

“No need to react,” Harry said, putting his free hand inside of his pocket and stretching his other arm towards her. “Just take it inside with you. Drink it. Give it to your plants. Flush it away. Whatever you want. I’ll never know.”

Lia chuckled.

She unclasped her arms calmly, lifting one of them to wrap her fingers around the glass. They inevitably brushed Harry’s skin, and her breath sped up, matching her already racing heart.

“Thank you,” she said, holding his stare as she pulled the drink closer to her body. “Of course I’ll drink it.”

He smiled into her eyes, and Lia glanced down to the mojito.

“Did you make it?”

At that, Harry scoffed. “‘Course I did. Why? Should’ve I asked Rohan?”

Lia furrowed her brows.

“What? No.” She shook her head. “That’s not… He never gets it how I like it.”

There was a pause, then a soft chuckle left Harry’s mouth.

“Oh my God.” Lia widened her eyes, then raised her chin to stare back at him. Harry was laughing silently at the floor. “Please don’t tell him I said that.”

“I won’t.”

“I mean, it’s not that I don’t think he’s good… Shit. Not him… The mojitos… I mean… His mojitos are good… It’s just… He’s not… I don’t… He’s—"

“Hey.” Harry placed his hand on her shoulder, and Lia pressed her lips together. He wasn’t laughing anymore, and his eyes soothed her. “I won’t say a word, I promise.”

Lia sighed.

“Thanks.”

Harry let her go, shoving his now-mojito-free hand inside of his other pocket and curling his lips up.

“Hope you’ll like mine, tho.”

“I… I will. Yeah.”

I always do, she wished she could add.

Making sure the words wouldn’t slip out of her mouth, she lifted the glass up to her lips and took a timid sip out of it.

Almost immediately, heat radiated down her throat and through her chest. So she closed her eyes and took a second and longer sip, focusing on properly tasting it this time.

The flavors were all easy to recognize—the mint, the lime, the club soda, and the rum. When she swallowed, she pressed her lips together in a smile, unintentionally humming at the sweetness and freshness.

It was… Delicious. The perfect balance between all ingredients, including the amount of sugar and ice.

Harry cleared his throat, and Lia batted her lashes to focus her sight on him once again.

He watched her with a grin on his face, and her heart skipped a beat.

“Good?”

“Yeah,” Lia whispered. “Really good. Delicious, actually.”

Harry grinned even wider, and Lia found herself smiling, too.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Of course. Maybe next time you can get some mojitos instead of pizza. I’m sure they’ll enjoy keeping you company.”

Butterflies batted their wings in her belly, and a rush of adrenaline bolted through her veins.

“T—they?”

Harry shrugged. “Yeah… Y’know… The mojitos… Me…”

Lia shuffled on her feet, wiggling her toes inside her purple socks.

“I was going to tell you that earlier, by the way,” he added, saving her from the embarrassment of letting him know she had no idea how to answer that. “But things got crazy at the bar and I had to put my phone down so… Sorry.”

“That’s—That’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” She cleared her throat, then tightened the grip of her fingers around the glass. “Do you… Uh… Do you have to go? Or… Maybe… I don’t know… I mean… Would you… Would you like to come in?”

Harry tilted his head and, just like earlier, his eyes twinkled with something. Something different, though. Playfulness, maybe? Or amusement?

Mischief, perhaps?

Lia wasn’t sure, but whatever it was, it didn’t make her uncomfortable, nor embarrassed.

“Would love to, really. But I gotta go back to work… I’m sure my break ended a while ago.”

“Oh… Y—yeah, right. Of course. Sorry.”

Harry chuckled. “Don’t be. I’d rather stay here with you, to be honest.”

Feeling herself about to smile again, Lia looked down at the drink in her hand and bit her lip.

“Uh… And what… What time do you finish work, then?”

“Tonight?”

“Mhm.”

Harry took a tiny step forward, and Lia held her breath.

“Well… We close the bar at two.”

“Right.”

The last t left her mouth and echoed in the hallway, and Lia watched Harry’s feet get closer and closer as he walked forward, stopping only when he was right in front of her.

He took a hand out of his pocket and lifted his arm, then placed his fingers under her chin and forced her to look up at him again.

The butterflies seemed to abandon her belly and fly all over her body, because every inch and every corner inside her tingled and fluttered.

Harry wasn’t smiling anymore. The playfulness on his face had been replaced by determination, but his eyes were still soft and gentle when staring inside hers.

“Any chance you’ll still be awake by then?”

“M—maybe? I mean, I could be.”

“You could, huh?”

Lia shrugged, then nodded.

The smirk grew easily on his lips.

“You sure? It’s gonna be late… I don’t wanna bother you.”

Lia’s heart pounded inside her chest. So loudly she was afraid even Harry could hear it.

Truthfully speaking, there was absolutely no way Lia would ever stay awake so late just to meet someone.

However this wasn’t just someone, was it? It was Harry.

Harry.

The guy she had been secretly dreaming about for almost a year now.

Would she be able to forgive herself if she didn’t try?

Of course she wouldn’t.

So Lia silently and slightly nodded again.

“Hmm…” He brushed his thumb up and down her jaw. “In that case… How do you feel about watching a movie?”

Lia licked her lips, and swallowed. “Here?”

“Mhmm.”

“After your shift?”

Harry nodded.

“I—Yeah. Okay. I’d like that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Will you stay awake for me, then?”

“Mhmm… I’ll… I’ll be awake.”

“Good.” He moved his thumb up and down again, then slid his hand to her neck and held her for a moment before he dropped his arm back to his side. “See you in a couple hours, then.”

— — — — —

At 2:17am, Lia buzzed Harry in.

She waited for him in the hallway, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed under her chest. Her insides blazed with anticipation, and the sweating of her hands was getting hard to control—and even harder to hide.

Everything was silent. Quiet. Empty. The perfect scenario for her to get lost inside her mind and start doubting every decision she’d ever made leading to that exact moment in time.

Shit.

Lia looked down at her feet and tapped her heel on the floor.

She couldn’t start spiraling. Not right then. Not when she was about to see the guy she had fantasized about for so long. Not when she was about to watch a movie with the guy she had crushed on for so long. Not when she was finally getting attention from the guy she had silently dreamed about for so long.

She couldn’t. She really couldn’t.

And yet…

She should’ve put on something more flattering to see him... Shouldn’t she?

She didn’t want him to notice she had showered, shaved, and changed her underwear just to see him, so she had put on the same outfit he’d had seen earlier—the same gray loose pants and basic white tank top, and even the same beige cardigan and purple socks. Which was also the same outfit she had slept on the night before, and that she was planning to wear to bed again that night.

Shit.

What was wrong with her?

Why couldn’t she have tried a little bit harder?

Desperation sparked and unrolled inside her, but then the sound of Harry’s feet reached her ears, loud and clear — walking up the stairs, a floor or two below. And that was enough to absorb all of her attention. To make her forget all about everything and look up.

Look up and just wait for him.

Wait to see him.

Those minutes it took for him to get to her floor were the worst. And the longest. Harry took his time, climbing step by step. And the anticipation inside Lia’s body seemed to increase a hundred times.

By the time she finally saw him, her heart was racing, and her belly quivering.

Harry looked handsome. Like earlier, and like he always did.

He was wearing all black, though, something she hadn’t noticed earlier, when he’d brought her the mojito. Wasn’t he wearing her favorite t-shirt when they’d met outside?

His curls were messier than before, too. His cheeks were flushed, and there was a glimmer of sweat peeking from the back of his neck.

He seemed tired, and it made sense that he was.

Guilt flared all over her.

Friday nights at the bar were busy. Anyone could imagine that. And Lia not only could have figured that all by herself, but she had also seen it happening right in front of her eyes at least once or twice.

What kind of person made plans at 2am on a Friday?

Or, well, technically, on a Saturday… But still…

Was that even normal?

Was it a thing?

Was she out of her mind?

Harry looked up before reaching the last flight of steps.

As soon as he met her eyes, he curled his lips slightly up.

“Hii,” he murmured.

Lia bit her lip.

Despite everything, there he was. Casually walking under the yellow lights of her hallway, as if that was exactly where he was supposed to be. Stopping by her door with certainty, as if he had been on the exact same spot hundreds of times before. And looking at her with softness and tranquility, as if she was the only cure for his exhaustion.

Lia liked that. She didn’t know what was happening or why, but she liked that.

She liked that a lot.

“Hi,” she murmured back, offering him a soft smile. “Come on in.”

She gestured behind her, determined to offer her couch if only for him to sleep for as long as he needed to.

“Thanks.”

Harry walked past her with a polite smile on his face, stopping by the door to take his shoes off and then moving towards the couch.

Meanwhile, Lia shut the door, turned the key around, and locked them inside.

And then…

Her heart skipped a beat, and her stomach twirled.

It was just the two of them.

Lia and Harry. Harry and Lia. And no one else.

She hugged herself with her cardigan and breathed in, then out. When she turned around, it was just in time to see Harry drop his weight on the middle of her couch.

Thankfully, he didn’t need an invitation to make himself at home. He put the fluffy blanket next to him and scooched backwards, squaring his shoulders against the dark pillows and spreading his legs slightly open. Next, he sighed, dropped his neck, and rested the back of his head on the edge of the couch.

And then, he tilted his chin to the side, and finally faced her.

His strong eye contact captured her, and a shiver ran over her skin.

Harry curled his mouth into another smile.

“So, did you enjoy your mojito?”

Tightening her arms under her chest, Lia looked at her feet and nodded.

“Y—yeah… I… It was really good. Thank you.”

“‘Course. Any—” A yawn got in the way of his answer, and Lia darted her eyes up.

Harry faced the ceiling now. His eyes were shut and his mouth was wide open. His chest went up, up, up. And then he exhaled, loudly, and his chest went back down at the same time he slowly closed his mouth.

Lia pressed her lips together and covered half of her face with one hand, stifling her own yawn.

“Shit.” He chuckled, shaking his head briefly then looking back at her. “Sorry. Long night at the bar.”

She shook her head and dropped her hand on top of her other arm.

“‘S fine. Don’t apologize. I shouldn’t have…”

“What?”

“I don’t know. I’m feeling kinda guilty, to be honest.”

“Guilty? Why?”

Lia shrugged.

“For making you come here after work? I mean…” She looked at the TV on the wall across from him, and then at her feet. “It’s so late… I get it if you’re tired. I should’ve thought about that."

There was a pause.

A beat.

Maybe two.

Or maybe three.

Or maybe none.

It didn’t matter. The silent air wasn’t heavy around them.

Eventually, she gathered enough courage to lift her head and look at him again. It wasn’t necessarily a surprise to find Harry already staring, but it still made her chest tighten.

So she bit her lip.

And Harry blinked. Several times.

Then, he cleared his throat.

“You know I wanted to come here, right?” he asked. “I thought I was being obvious, but I don’t mind saying it. Like, I was the one who suggested this, so if anything I’m the one who feels like a dickhead for making you stay up so late.”

An amused—yet small—smile grew on Lia’s face.

“I didn’t mind.” She shrugged. “I wanted to wait.”

Harry smiled, too.

“And I wanted to see you. So that’s settled.”

Warmth filled Lia’s chest, and her body tingled. Unable to hold herself from stupidly smiling, she pursed her lips tightly, then bit the insides of her bottom lip. The feeling took over her brain, though, and without any warning, happiness erupted out of her mouth in the form of soft and genuine giggles.

“Sorry,” she said, taking a hand up to her face and covering her lips.

Harry sighed.

“C’mon now,” he said, patting the cushion next to him. “You’re too far away.”

It was hard to contain the butterflies and nerves, but she still found a way to move her legs and shortened the distance between them. She uncrossed her arms to put her hair behind her ears, looking at the floor and being careful to not step on his feet or trip on his ankles as she made her way past his knees.

His head followed her movements along with his eyes, turning from one side to the other.

When she sat next to him and lifted her chin, she glanced directly at his eyes.

Harry was already beaming at her.

“Hi,” he murmured.

Excitement fluttered deep in the pit of her stomach, and Lia smiled.

“Hi,” she murmured back. “I love mojitos.”

Harry chuckled, moving his head and closing his eyes to the ceiling.

Damnit.

Turning slightly to see him better, Lia observed him with adoration. It felt impossible not to. He was captivating. There was something truthfully genuine about him. A simplicity surrounding his eyes, wrinkling his skin in a boyish way. Even tired, and even after a long shift, a glowing energy surrounded him. And it was mesmerizing.

He was mesmerizing.

“You do, yeah,” he said, still smiling, and tilting his head to face her again. “I’ve noticed.”

“Really?”

“Mhmm.”

“I… That’s…”

Lia blinked. Actually, she didn’t know what to say, so she furrowed her brows and shut her mouth.

What did he mean by that?

Had he noticed how much she loved mojitos in general, or how much she loved his mojitos?

And what else he had noticed about her?

Had he noticed how deeply into him she was?

How much she stared at him?

How much she daydreamed about him?

“I should’ve asked you on a proper date, y’know?” Harry said. A playful smile grew on his face, and his tone came out teasingly. “Take you out somewhere nice… On normal hours… After at least taking a shower…”

He sounded calm, as if that was the most natural thing he could say to her.

Lia’s chest, on the other hand, kept moving up and down quickly, as if her heart and lungs had completely forgotten how they were supposed to function to keep her alive.

“A—a… A d—date?” she barely managed to ask.

“Well, yeah.” Harry dragged his eyes off hers, only to watch himself raise his arm and reach for a lock of her hair. “A date feels more… I don’t know… Gentleman…ly?”

He chuckled — tiredly, but honestly.

“Is that even a word?” he asked, twirling her hair around his finger. “Anyway…”

He stopped moving, yet didn’t pull his hand away. Meeting her gaze again, uncertainty flashed through his eyes, but soon was covered with the comfort of his smile. “I should have, but… I guess I just didn’t want to wait. So this late night thing just kinda happened, y’know?”

Lia swallowed.

“Y—yeah… I know.”

He placed his hand on her neck, resting four fingers on the side of her throat while his thumb stroked up and down her jaw and cheek.

“You have a beautiful smile, by the way,” Harry suddenly pointed out.

“W—what?”

“I wanted to tell you earlier, but…” He shrugged. “You hide everytime you smile or laugh, and it’s just... I don’t know. It’s beautiful to see you smiling. That’s all.”

Lia’s neck burned, blood rushed through her cheeks, and the cardigan she was wearing turned out to be too much for her now boiling body. Thoughts swirled so quickly that it was hard to catch them. Her mind raced, and it yelled. It yelled so loudly that it became silent, and everything went blank—as if her brain had finally given up on her.

“Sorry,” Harry said, dropping his hand and shaking his head. He shifted on the couch, then. Straightening his back, he turned sideways and fully faced her, then folded the leg that was closest to her body up on the couch and squeezed his ankle underneath his other knee. “Bet you didn’t think I could get this soppy, huh?”

Harry joked and chuckled.

Lia blinked a couple of times. He was trying to lighten up the conversation, she could tell, but there was no way she would just laugh. She didn’t want to.

So she shifted on the couch and mimicked his previous movements, turning around to fully face him and folding her closest leg to him under the other.

And that was all it needed for their legs to touch.

“Thank you.”

A slow smile grew on Harry’s face, causing Lia’s mouth to curl up as well.

He raised his arm and placed it on top and along the backrest, invading not only all of her senses, but also her physical space.

Lia looked down and between them, watching the way their thighs were pressed against each other. Watching the way so many of her dreams were slightly coming true.

That is, until Harry spoke again.

“Let’s talk about Rohan,” he said, and Lia jolted her head up.

She scrunched her face up in confusion, opening and closing her mouth a couple of times before she was able to slowly breathe out one single word: “What?”

“Rohan, from the bar.”

“From the—” Lia shook her head, and the tone of her voice suddenly catched up with her emotions. “Of course I know who Rohan is! But what—You—Why would we even talk about him?!”

Harry shrugged, a playful and amused smirk crossing his face. “Because you two seem close… Have fun together…”

Lia gasped, her mouth falling open as one incredulous and single laugh bursted out from her chest.

“We barely— We just talk!”

Harry nodded. “I know.”

“So?” Lia scoffed discreetly, the sound getting caught on her throat. “That’s hardly having fun.”

“Hmm… Well, I don’t know. I just thought something would’ve happened between you two by now. That’s all.”

Lia flinched her chin back, eyebrows raising while she batted her eyelashes in disbelief.

“That’s—Again, what?!”

Harry shrugged, his expression getting serious as he looked away from her.

“He’s clearly into you,” he said. “You know that, c’mon. Thought you fancied him, too. That’s all.” Another shrug, and then, “Don’t you?”

“Oh my…” Lia whispered.

She furrowed her brows and dropped her chin down, once again looking at their thighs.

“I can’t believe this. Why… Why would you think that? That’s so… I mean, where did you get that stupid idea from? And why would you even bring it up right now?”

Her shoulders fell. And her body relaxed.

Damn. It felt so good to just say whatever was going through her head. At least for once.

“So… You don’t?”

Lia breathed in, and raised her chin.

Harry was looking at her again, but he kept narrowing his eyes, as if he was ready to call her out for lying.

He wasn’t teasing her.

Harry was actually doubting it.

He was actually after an answer.

Lia blinked. Multiple times. And then more laughter bursted out from deep inside her.

“Oh my God, Harry! No! Of course not!”

“You say it like it’s supposed to be obvious!”

Harry laughed, too—although from the way his voice wavered, it seemed more like nervous laughter. Or maybe a questioning one. Or a suspicious one.

Either way, it wasn’t actually joyful. It didn’t feel like it, at least.

So Lia pressed her lips together, then took another deep breath in.

Honestly, where was he coming from?

Had she ever done anything that could lead him to believe that? Because she was convinced she hadn’t. In fact, all along she had been afraid Harry would find out how attracted to him she was. Not to Rohan.

“Well… Yeah.” Lia shrugged. “I don’t know, but to me it is pretty obvious… I mean… Why would I even be here if I fancied him?”

“Huh.” Harry raised his eyebrows.

He blinked once, and then squinted, focusing on her eyes as though he was trying to find the secret answer for an unasked question written deep inside them.

That whole interaction was too weird. And not at all what Lia was expecting for that night—or any other night, for that matter.

“I just…” she said, then paused for a moment to gather her thoughts. Pressing her lips together, she batted her eyelashes and looked towards the back of the couch, targeting the wall. She sighed, and tried again. "I don’t… I don’t get why you thought I… That I wanted… But you didn’t notice that I—Y’know… That I… Ugh!"

Shaking her head, Lia took her hand to rub her forehead and chuckled. No matter how much she wanted to tell him, she couldn’t do it. She really couldn’t.

They were having such a great night…

What if she ruined everything?

What if she told him how much she fancied him and he decided to leave?

What if she decided to be open and honest about her feelings for him, and he turned her down?

She wouldn’t be able to talk to him again. She wouldn’t be able to look at him again. And she would never be able to get over the humiliation.

So she couldn’t risk it. She just couldn’t.

“Hey,” Harry said, placing his hand on top of hers.

Immediately, Lia loosened up. She relaxed the grip of her fingers, dropped her shoulders, and looked down at her lap.

And then, she frowned.

Apparently, she’d been gripping at her own hands, tightly squeezing them while completely unaware of it. Her muscles were sore, and there were small prints on the places where the tips of her fingers had sunk on her own skin.

“Lia…” Harry sneaked his fingertips underneath her palm, breaking her hands apart. “What’s going on? What were you going to say?”

“Uh… No—nothing.” Staring at their now connected hands, Lia shook her head. “Nothing, yeah. Forget about it.”

“Oh, c’mon!” His voice was cheerful, almost playful. “Say it… Please?”

“I wasn’t going to say anything. Really.”

He kept his thumb on the back of her hand, gently and slowly caressing her skin.

And Lia focused on that. She watched the way he moved up and down. She absorbed how soft yet rought the brush of his finger felt. She appreciated how warm, large, and strong his hold felt.

“Lia…”

Harry tugged her hand, pulling it off from her lap and holding it against his chest.

The movement caused Lia to lean forward, and she looked at him.

Harry’s intense green eyes were truly, really hypnotizing.

She licked her lips, then softened her voice. “Just… Let it go… Please?”

Harry flickered his eyes between hers, and he studied her in silence for a moment.

Instead of making her uncomfortable, though, it gave her enough time to focus some more on physical things. Like how he kept holding her hand firmly inside his. Secure. Fully enveloping it while clutching her palm against the middle of his chest.

Lia was almost sure she could feel his heart beating against his ribcage, and the fabric of his t-shirt was right under her skin.

Without dragging her eyes away from his, she moved her own thumb up and down, too. It was a subtle and cautious movement, but enough to brush and feel the texture under the pad of her finger.

Harry curved one side of his mouth up, and gave her palm a little squeeze.

“Fine. I’ll forget about it.”

He lifted his free hand to his hair and pushed the short curls out of the way, then dropped his arm next to Lia’s shoulder.

After a moment of patient and quiet staring, he added, “You’re not awkward, you know? Or boring. And it’s not true that people don’t want to be friends with you.”

Lia pressed her lips together, straightened her back, and shifted backwards.

Right…

They were back to that, then.

It was nice of him to say that, sure it was, but she didn’t agree with his words. In fact, she couldn’t even believe he truly meant them. Not when, up until then, he had never cared about getting to know her.

On the other hand, she also wasn’t expecting him to throw her own words back at her, especially because weeks had already gone by since that embarrassing night.

Her chest tightened, and she took a deep breath in.

God. She really didn’t want to think about that night, but there was a weight in her stomach, a heaviness she didn’t know how to get rid off, so she still found the strength to open up her mouth and say, “You never wanted to, tho, did you?”

Harry widened his eyes, and Lia looked down.

She focused on their still touching hands, then brushed off the weight of her words with a shrug. “I mean, it’s fine. I’m just saying.”

A couple of seconds passed without any answer, so Lia peeked at him through the corner of her eyes.

Harry was staring at where his other hand was, near her shoulder — with narrowed eyes, pursed lips and furrowed brows. He seemed lost inside his thoughts, and Lia rolled her lips into her mouth.

She hadn’t been wrong for pointing that out, right? It wasn’t like she wanted to, but more like she had to. More like she needed to. Because it was the truth, and it was what he had made her feel and believe all along, wasn’t it?

The fact that he had apologized to her didn’t erase the fact that he had made her snap in the first place. Right?

Or was she supposed to completely forget about that?

Harry sighed, and Lia blinked. She relaxed her jaw, darting her tongue through her lips as she focused on him again.

“That’s…” He paused, eyeing his thumb as he grazed it over her shoulder, on top of her cardigan. “It wasn’t like that. I’m just… I’m not good with people. That’s all.”

…

What?

Lia was glad he wasn’t looking at her face, because she couldn’t help but frown.

“Yes, you are,” she said, wandering her eyes around his distressed expression. “I’ve seen you with Rohan, and you’re good with him. You joke a lot, and you laugh, you offer your help when he needs it… And with Sage, I mean… I’ve only seen you around her a couple of times, but… You seemed to get along with her really quickly, so…”

The corner of Harry’s mouth turned up very slightly, only enough for her to notice it. Just like she noticed the way the muscles of his face relaxed, making all wrinkles disappear.

He tilted his head, and met her gaze.

Narrowing his eyes, he asked in a low and amused murmur, “How do you know that, huh? Have you been watching me?”

Shit.

“I… I mean…” Shit. Shit. Shit. “I think I…” Well, there was no point in denying it anymore, was there? “I have, yes. Yeah.”

Harry dropped their hands on his lap, then moved his thumb up and down, stroking the back of her hand.

“You have, huh?”

Lia shrugged. “Yeah…”

“Hmm… I never noticed.”

With another shrug, Lia looked away.

She wouldn’t answer that.

She already knew he’d never paid any attention to her, so of course he wouldn’t have noticed the way she watched him. The way she daydreamed about him.

There was no need to point that out, though.

“Still,” Harry added, “Rohan is probably just an exception.”

“Right… And Sage?”

“Just another exception.”

Lia snorted. And chuckled.

Shaking her head, she closed her eyes for a moment.

She needed to organize her thoughts and memories, because she knew that wasn’t the truth. She’d watched him for long enough to know that he was a joyful and caring person, but she didn’t know if that was something she should let him know, or not.

When she opened her eyes again, she met his calm and gentle stare. She bit her lip and leaned her side against the pillows, resting her shoulder under his stretched arm.

Harry kept moving his thumb gently on the back of her hand. Simply watching her.

He didn’t seem bothered by the time it took her to answer, nor seemed to be about to rush her.

It was different from what she was used to. Coming from him, sure, but in general, too. And it caused the words to simply roll out of her mouth.

“I just… I’ve seen you around people, and… I don’t know…I used to see you with that girl… Well, that woman, y’know? And you always seemed so gentle to her… I mean, a gentleman, really, and I—”

Harry shifted, suddenly and abruptly. He withdrew his arm from the couch and looked away from her, then rubbed his finger under his nose.

Lia pressed her lips together, stopping herself from talking even further.

She’d said something wrong, hadn’t she?

She totally had.

Of course she had.

She looked down at her lap, biting the inside of her bottom lip.

Harry was still holding her, but he had stopped brushing his thumb on the back of her hand.

And she didn’t want him to stop. She really didn’t.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I—” Shit. “I shouldn’t have said that… That was just… I didn’t— I mean—”

Shit.

What was she supposed to say now?

She had gone too far.

She knew that.

She knew she had entered a touchy subject.

Of course she had.

Honestly… What was wrong with her? Why would she even bring that woman up? Why would she bring someone Harry used to date up into their conversation? Why would she—Oh shit. What if… Wait, were they still together? Were they still a couple? The idea hadn’t crossed her mind… She hadn’t seen her at the bar anymore, so she’d just assumed and— Shit.

She looked up at him.

“Are you… You and that woman… Do you still… Are you two…”

“I’m single, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Oh. Okay. So… Is it over? Between you two?”

Harry nodded.

“It’s over, yeah. Look, I don’t… We haven’t seen each other for a couple of months now and… Yeah, it’s over. I’m not going back to that.”

Lia sighed through her nose. Emptying her lungs all at once.

At least, when he spoke, he kept his eyes on her. And Lia knew he was being honest, she recognized the struggle to let something out of your mind.

She didn’t mean to pry, though. All she needed to know was if Harry was cheating on someone or not. And if he wasn’t, then that was enough for her. It’s not like she was planning on telling him about her own ex-boyfriend, or the few horrible one night stands she had before moving to that building. She wasn’t ready to share that much, so… Yeah, Lia understood him.

“It’s fine.” She curled her mouth up, wanting to go back to playful smiles and soft touches. “We don’t have to talk about it. Honestly. I just wanted to know if you were… You know, cheating or something.”

As soon as the last words left her mouth, Lia saw Harry flinch. His eyes darted to their laps and his shoulders tensed, and it was very obvious that she had hit a nerve there. Another nerve.

It didn’t seem like something that made him angry, though. He didn’t look like someone who was about to yell or get into a fight. He looked… Sad? Ashamed? He looked like someone who really needed a hug. And that made Lia’s heart drop.

Had Harry’s heart been broken, just like hers?

Even worse, had Harry’s trust been broken, just like hers?

“I’m really sorry, Harry. I just… I meant… God. I keep messing it up, but… I swear in the end all I wanted to say is that I’ve seen you around other people, and that I always thought you seemed to be really nice… And like… A fun person to be around, y’know? Like, you seemed really sweet, and… I don’t know. Sorry. I’m really sorry.”

Harry took his free hand to cover his mouth and cough, clearing his throat.

“Don’t worry about it. She’s just… She’s a complicated story and I wasn’t expecting this to come up so… Bad reaction on my side. Sorry.”

Lia sighed.

“I should’ve just… All I meant is that you seem good with people. That’s all.”

“Yeah, well…” Harry shrugged. “I don’t know about that. It takes a lot of effort, I think.”

His voice sounded lower and deeper, and Lia recognized the vulnerability in it. It felt as if he was confessing something to her, as if he was sharing a hidden part of him with her.

Lia also recognized the struggle he had just described, and how real the statement was — interacting with people truly took a lot of effort for her, too. To the point where most of the time she chose to not interact at all.

“Yeah,” she said, so soft it felt almost like a whisper, “I know what you mean.”

Harry peeked at her from the corner of his eyes, pulling his lips into a thankful smile, then looked away again. He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t place his arm by her shoulder anymore, and he also didn’t brush his thumb against her knuckles anymore. He just seemed lost inside his mind.

It was easy to tell, because Lia also recognized what that looked like. What that felt like.

Apparently, the table had turned between them, and she felt the urge to make him feel better—just like he had made her feel better earlier that day.

Did Harry feel as lonely as she felt?

Gulping down, Lia looked at their still connected hands. His entire body language had changed, but he hadn’t let go of her, he hadn’t stopped touching her.

Her lips turned up into a smile, and she bit her lip.

Tightening her hand around his, she squeezed his fingers. She watched as she moved her own thumb up and down on the back of his hand — brushing slowly, from his wrist and up to his knuckle.

Silence engulfed them comfortably, all while she steadily moved her thumb up and down.

Up and down.

Up… And down…

Up…

And down…

His skin was warm and smooth under her fingertip. And the idea of pressing a kiss to his cross tattoo kept flying through her mind.

So she took a deep breath, then blinked a couple of times — because no matter how tempting it was, there was absolutely no way she was ever going to take the risk.

“I knew your name from the first day, y’know?” Harry said.

Lia drew her eyebrows together, and lifted her head to look at him.

“What?”

Harry shrugged, then curled the corner of his mouth up. “That day… When you said I never cared to know your name? That wasn’t true. I just never asked because I didn’t need to… I asked Rohan to ask you.”

Lia dropped her mouth open and widened her eyes.

When she spoke, though, her voice was barely a shocked whisper, “No you didn’t.”

Harry chuckled, shaking his head and looking away for a moment. His smile was big to the point of showing off his teeth, and his eyes were practically fully closed, creating wrinkles around them.

His reaction was so genuine…

And apparently contagious, too, because before Lia could prevent it, her lips had already turned up into a foolish, big, and stupid grin as well.

“I did, yeah. However…” He looked back at her. “I gotta be honest with you… That wouldn’t have happened if I’d known you two would end up fancying each other.”

“Oh my God!” Lia dropped her head back with a groan. Again? Really?! “Harry… C’mon…”

“What?” He laughed.

Lia looked down and back at him, trying her best to hide the annoyance out of her face — although she could feel it in her body as she breathed out and loudly through her nose.

“We don’t fancy each other.”

“Mhm. You sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Aren’t you his favorite customer, tho?”

She rolled her eyes.

“I don’t know, but he definitely isn’t my favo—”

Shit.

Harry tilted his head, then lifted his lips up in a smirk.

“He isn’t what? Your favorite?”

Lia snorted, then tried to pull her hand away from his.

Harry didn’t let her, though.

“Who’s your favorite, then?”

“This is… This is just… It’s just ridiculous, y’know?”

Harry hummed.

“Maybe. I don’t know. For what’s worth, I still think he fancies you, but…”

With a dramatic pause, he leaned forward, as if he was about to make the most important point of the night, or as if he was about to share the deepest secret of their lives.

Lia swallowed.

He was so close. He hadn’t shaved in a while, because his stubble had gotten longer around his mouth and along his cheeks. It looked messy, almost kind of dirty, but also extremely sexy on him.

And his lips…

Oh God… Harry’s lips were so… Attractive. They looked soft, smooth, and gentle. They weren’t the biggest or plumpest she’d ever seen, but she had certainly never wanted to kiss someone’s lips so badly like she wanted to kiss his.

“I’m happy to know you don’t fancy him,” Harry said, his voice a tone or two lower than before.

And the way they moved…

“You are?” she murmured.

“Mhmm…”

What would it feel like to kiss him?

What would it feel like to taste his lips?

Because she wanted to.

So bad…

She wanted to taste his lips.

She wanted to touch his face.

She wanted to feel his scruff under her skin.

What if she did?

What if she extended her arm and brushed her fingers against his cheek? Over his facial hair?

Would it be soft?

Would it be scratchy?

“Hey there,” Harry said, grabbing her chin between his thumb and forefinger. His touch was both rough and delicate, holding her into place and drawing her attention back to his eyes while still being careful not to hurt her. “You seem distracted.”

Her skin tingled, and her heart hammered in her chest.

Shit.

The smirk on his face and the tone of his voice were enough to let her know he’d seen her staring at his lips.

And Lia didn’t—Shit.

She was supposed to say something.

She knew she was supposed to say something.

But every fiber of her body quivered with nervousness, and all words got stuck in her throat.

And the way he kept looking at her…

Fuck.

Looking at her with those patient and soft green eyes…

As if he had all the time in the world to stare at her…

Or as if he had all the time in the world to wait for a proper reaction…

Shit.

Lia’s brain was frozen.

She had been physically attracted to him for such a long time, always watching from far away and never able to see him up close. To really see him…

And he was being so nice to her…

So, so nice…

Beyond what she could’ve ever imagined he would be…

She didn’t want to misinterpret his intentions, though… Or get her hopes up…

She didn’t want to overstep…

And yet…

How could she even misinterpret his intentions, when he was right there, acting like that?

Looking at her like that?

Oh God.

Lia’s breath quickened, just like her heartbeat.

She wanted him. So much. She truly wanted him.

Her chest tightened so hard that it was almost painful, like she needed to release the tension somehow or she would explode. She could feel it bobbing up and down in double quick time, just like she could feel her pulse throbbing not only against her ribcage, but also inside her throat and her stomach. And all over her legs. And right into her… Fuck.

She clenched the muscles of her thighs, and swiftly shifted on the couch.

“Lia…”

She needed a distraction.

She needed to divert her mind from how much she wanted him. And she needed to pay attention to something that wasn’t his intense eyes burning into hers.

She needed to say something.

“Lia, hey…”

Anything.

C’mon.

Just say something.

Lia…

Say it.

Say it!

“I always wanted to see your tattoos!” she blurted, although a little bit louder than she intended to. “Just…” She cleared her throat. “Y’know… Up close.”

There was a pause. A loud and meaningful pause, as a heartbeat coming back to life.

She swallowed hard.

And then Harry’s expression softened, and his mouth turned into a smile.

A smile that genuinely lighted up his face.

A smile so sincere and spontaneous that it slowly caused Lia to smile, too.

So they both stared at each other, and smiled at each other.

Widely, openly, and simply.

“Yeah?” he asked.

Well… That worked out just fine, didn’t it?

She nodded.

“Mhmm…”

Harry went back to his previous position, letting her chin go and casually placing his elbow on the backrest of the couch. Then, without dropping the hold of her hand, he stretched his left arm and offered it to her. “You can look at them now, if you want.”

“Really?”

He brushed his thumb up and down the back of her hand and nodded.

“Of course. All yours.”

Lia nibbled her bottom lip and, without giving him any other answer, slid her gaze from his eyes to his lips, then directly to the sleek lines of his arm.

Scanning the black ink covering most of the skin, she didn’t waste any more time before taking her free hand to his left wrist. As soon as she touched him, her fingertips tickled. She slid her tongue between her lips and outlined his anchor tattoo with delicacy, dancing with the tip of her index on top of his tender and smooth skin.

Next, she moved on to some very tiny tattoos, brushing each one while she tried to make sense of them. There didn’t seem to be a connection between the different drawings or words, but they somehow still fit together.

Reaching the side of his forearm, she traced a mermaid, then leaned forward when she couldn’t see the entire silhouette.

With a deep breath, she moved her soft touch upwards, reaching his rose tattoo.

That one seemed older, as if the ink had faded already.

She could still see it perfectly, though.

Drawing her index finger over the stem, she traced it from the bottom and up to the petals, then back half-way down to follow the path to the two leaves.

She took her time with that one, tracing it so carefully and so attentively that it felt bigger than it looked.

She was enjoying the moment. Too much, to be honest. It felt intimate… Better than she could’ve ever imagined.

Her fingertips went from tingling to burning, and when she noticed that their deep and slow breaths were the only sound echoing inside her living room, her stomach bubbled.

Light-headed, it took her a while to finish. She wanted to give equal attention to each one of the petals, but she also didn’t want to ever stop touching him. She wanted to get even closer, and she wanted to get to know him even more.

Would other parts of him feel the same?

Would he ever let her explore his entire body like that? With the same discretion and delicacy?

Would he ever let her admire and adore every inch of him?

Would he ever let her know every part of his life?

Lia was almost getting to his elbow, finishing his rose, when Harry shivered under her touch. She paused her movements and looked up, meeting his determined and fervent stare.

He was breathing steadily through his parted lips, and he seemed flushed.

Lia’s heartbeat sped up again, and she bit back a smile — was he enjoying all of it as much as she was?

Shit.

She hoped he was.

He was so pretty.

And she wanted him. She really wanted him.

She felt ridiculous, but she couldn’t help it. She just did — she wanted him.

She really-fucking wanted him.

She wanted to hug him tightly, she wanted to lay on his chest, and she wanted to tangle their legs together. She wanted to snuggle on his lap, press her nose under his jaw, and smell the curve of his neck. She wanted to visit every corner of his body, kiss every spot along the journey, and taste every flavor of his soul.

And it was scary, because she couldn’t remember ever wanting someone that much.

She couldn’t remember a time in her life when her entire body had ached to touch someone. To kiss someone.

She had never felt that desire burning up through her veins, tingling down her toes, blazing up her fingers.

She had never experienced an overpowering feeling like that.

To want someone like that. To need someone like that. To desire someone like that.

Like she wanted him. Like she needed him. Like she desired him.

So bad.

So, so bad.

Shit…

She bit her lip.

What was she supposed to do with all those feelings?

She grazed her fingers over the hem of his sleeve, then kept her hand on his arm, wrapping it around where the fabric ended and his bare skin began.

“Where…” Lia murmured, almost out of breath. “Where do they end?”

Harry blinked, then cleared his throat.

His voice was also barely a whisper when he answered, “My tattoos?”

“Mhm.”

“It’s hard to say.”

“Oh…” She glanced to where her hand was, then bit her lip. “Okay…”

She didn’t want to get her hopes too high up, but it seemed like Harry was just as affected as she was. The atmosphere and the interaction between them had turned into something different. Something exciting. She had no doubts about it. She knew she wasn’t the only one feeling something. She knew he would say yes to whatever she asked.

For the first time, she couldn’t even question it. She just knew it.

Harry sighed. It was enough to get her attention back, but he still moved his free hand back to her chin, once again encouraging her to stare into his eyes.

“You’re just so…”

“W—what?”

“Beautiful.”

Lia’s stomach swirled.

Tightening the grip on her chin and slightly pinching her skin, Harry used the tip of his thumb to touch her lips, caressing them with a stroke that went from one side to the other. He went back and forth a couple of times, then stopped precisely on top of her cupid’s bow. When he pressed his finger down, and into her closed mouth, time stopped around them.

Lia watched him breathlessly through glossy eyes, whilst Harry immersed himself into his very own movements.

He brushed his other four fingers towards her neck, invading the side of her throat. Then, he slid his thumb down, and pulled her bottom lip along with it.

He stared at the way his fingertip glided through her warm, pink and damp flesh; getting wet from the ring of his finger to the tip of his nail.

Frozen, speechless, and out of breath, Lia lost herself in time, not even remembering what they’d been talking about or how they’d gotten themselves into that situation. Or how long they’d spent in that same position, sitting on her couch.

As soon as his thumb reached her chin and he let go of her mouth, Harry batted his eyelashes, dragging the tip of his tongue in between his own lips and licking them.

And then, still hypnotized in her mouth, he asked, “Can I kiss you?”

Lia nodded, because it was all she trusted she could do.

And Harry sighed, dragging his hand to the back of her neck and pulling her forward.

He leaned to meet her halfway, closing his eyes and pursing his lips before crushing their mouths together. His lips were cold and wet, and he didn’t move them against hers, just like she didn’t move hers against his. They simply remained forcefully pressed against each other, as if their mouths connecting was intense enough to freeze them both.

After a moment, Harry softened the grip on her and pulled away from her mouth.

The sound of their lips disconnecting echoed in her apartment, vibrating into Lia’s chest and mind. Only then she took in what had just happened, and she gasped quietly, drawing a deep, audible breath in.

Harry blinked.

“Lia, I’m—”

Cradling his cheeks, Lia leaned back in, closing her eyes and pressing her mouth against his once again. Their lips fit perfectly this time, molding around each other as she took his upper lip between hers and slightly sucked it into her mouth. Without rushing, she darted her tongue over his flesh and savored him, finally getting a taste of what she’d been craving for so long.

Her belly fluttered as her body reacted to the minty, juicy, and warm sensation. Something she could only describe as delicious, addictive, and magnetic.

With a gentle bite, she pulled away and blinked, letting his lip slide slowly through her teeth as she created some distance between them. When she looked at him, she found him frozen in place with closed eyes and parted lips, breathing out small puffs of air that made Lia ache for his mouth all over again.

“What?” she whispered, brushing her thumbs over his cheeks. “What were you going to say?”

Harry fluttered his eyelashes open, but only for half a second, immediately shaking his head and going back in for a new kiss. He didn’t hold back, then, nor wasted any more time, sliding his palm down her spine and crossing both of his arms around her waist whilst dipping his tongue between her lips and searching for hers.

And Lia gave in just as quickly and just as desperately, granting him free access as she met his tongue with her own and moved along with his body, putting both of her legs up and kneeling on the couch.

There was a new sense of urgency between them. Their mouths moved in perfect sync, meeting over and over again for desperate kisses that erased all of her doubts and paused all of her thoughts.

His mouth was tender, and yet hungry for her. He explored her with the same curiosity, desire and need she explored him, tugging her closer whilst shifting to get closer as well.

Her belly bubbled and swirled. Sweat dripped down her neck, and a wave of annoyance quivered through her. It was too good to be true, and yet it still wasn’t enough. She wanted more. She needed more.

So she pulled away and broke the kiss, straightening up and moving her arms to take her damn-freaking-useless cardigan off.

Everything happened so fast that she barely acknowledged Harry’s help, or the way he smiled at her reaction. All she noticed was how he dropped the item on the floor and didn’t miss a beat before launching himself onto her neck, spreading open-mouthed kisses while sneaking his hands under her tank-top and pressing his palms onto her back.

Following his pace, Lia threaded her fingers through his hair and closed her eyes, relishing on his actions. Harry shifted backwards, and without even once breaking them apart, he squared his shoulders with the back of the couch and pulled Lia along, guiding her to climb on top of him.

Lia held herself onto him and kneeled on the cushion, swinging one leg over his lap before easing her weight down and landing on his thighs. It was all he needed to be able to taste her skin with the same urgency he’d tasted her mouth. Burying his nose, parting his lips and poking his tongue out. Sinking his fingertips into her sides while shifting the brush of his scruff up to her jaw, then further down to her ear.

And then a soft, unexpected moan vibrated in the back of her throat, and Harry stopped moving.

“Damn,” he breathed into her neck, then dragged his mouth up and back to hers. “C’mere.”

He kissed her eagerly and passionately, taking his hands up to the back of her head and getting his fingers tangled with her hair. Then pulling her closer and right onto his lap.

The new pressure between her legs spurred another moan from Lia’s chest, which was quickly muffled by their twined, impatient tongues. And by the way Harry sighed into her mouth.

He untangled his fingers from her hair and wandered both of his hands through her back, tracing roughly all of her curves before landing on her bum. He spread his hand open and gave her ass a rough squeeze, then directed her to adjust on top of him and roll just the tiniest bit on his length.

The new friction was enough to smudge her wetness over him, and a delicious throb and shudder shot through her body. She moaned louder this time, and a low and guttural sound rasped in the back of Harry’s throat.

“Keep going,” he mumbled. “Yeah?”

With a nod, Lia placed her arms around his neck, turning her building emotions into a desperate hug before unashamedly rolling her hips once, twice, and thrice.

Shit.

Knowing he was getting hard was hot, but being able to feel him getting hard as she pleasured herself on it was on a whole other level. It turned every sensation into flames, and it made everything inside her combust.

And apparently it made Harry go feral as well. Wandering his hands all over her body, capturing every inch of her. Squeezing her waist, exploring her chest, grasping her thighs, sliding to her bum and clinging to it while scooching down on the couch and guiding her to keep rocking back and forth.

Harry was in charge, there was no doubt of that. He guided their kisses skillfully — with a mix of hunger, lusciousness and softness. He moved vehemently, devouring her tenderly and yet with no mercy at all. He tasted fresh, and sweet, and powerful. Pulling away for half a second only to tilt his head to the opposite side and start all over again.

Lia had never been kissed like that, and she already knew she would never be kissed like that again. The way he grabbed her — so tightly — and the hungry sounds in the back of his throat — so manly — made her body ache for more. Pleasure pulsed through every single one of her veins, and everything burned. Burned. And burned.

Dropping her hands down his chest, Lia tugged at the fabric of his t-shirt and helped him get rid of it. Just as easily and hurriedly as they’d gotten rid of her cardigan. And then Harry dropped both hands to the hem of her top and tugged it up, too.

“Off?”

Lia nodded and lifted her arms, and soon the item was thrown somewhere she couldn’t see and Harry’s mouth was attached to her breast. And also his hand. With every single one of his fingers digging into her.

She sighed, and perhaps she even quietly moaned, too.

It was just so unexpected and so… Good.

So, so good.

The way he sucked her in and flicked his tongue — up and down, side to side. The way he sank his teeth, meanwhile squeezed his hand around the other one. The way he pinched. Teased. Played with it. With them. With her.

“Oh God,” escaped through her mouth, and Lia bit her lip. Embarrassment quickly spread through her face, so she pressed her cheek on the top of his head and looked away. Hiding from him.

Harry let go of her with a pop and one last flick of his tongue, then crossed his arms around her back. He kissed her chest, and her shoulder, and her neck. Trailing a wet path all the way to her ear.

“You sound really nice,” he murmured. “And I’m so turned on right now… But I don’t… I don’t have a condom with me.”

Lia pulled away from the position she was in and shook her head.

She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d bought a condom.

“Me neither.”

She leaned in, searching for his lips and kissing him again.

Harry kissed her back, until he twisted his fingers around her hair and yanked her away from his mouth.

“We can’t…” he breathed out. “We can’t keep going without a condom.”

Lia blinked and looked at him.

Harry sat underneath her. His lips were wet and swollen from so much kissing. His hair was disheveled and untamed. And his t-shirt was nowhere to be seen.

“I—I know, but…”

She slid her palms down his chest — his solid, warm, hairy chest.

God, she was so, so needy. She couldn’t stop now. She didn’t want to stop now. She was so lost in pleasure. So lost in how he looked. How he tasted. How he sounded. How he smelled. So lost in how he made her feel, and so incredibly aware of how her deepest dreams were finally — finally — coming true. Of how much she wanted him.

So, so lost, and so, so aware, that funnily enough she didn’t even notice when she closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against his, then held onto his neck and resumed the rolling of her hips — back and forth, back and forth.

“Can’t we just…” Lia murmured, then stopped to bite her lip and hum.

“Jesus Christ.” He crossed his arms around her back and kissed her. “We can. Yeah. We sure can.”

He squeezed his hands around her, constantly guiding her to keep grinding on him, and soon the entire living room was filled with their urgency. And the urgency between them was filled with pure determination. And their determination was made of hurried breathings, dizzy groans, and hot moans. And everything became so intense and so greedy that it suddenly became extremely uncoordinated, and Lia couldn’t focus on kissing him anymore, and she had absolutely no idea what she was doing with her hands anymore.

Harry must’ve sensed her, because he was quick to crawl one hand up her spine and place it on the back of her head, entangling his fingers with her hair and keeping her face close to his. At the same time, he kept his other arm firm and secure around her waist, and made sure she wouldn’t break their closeness, nor stop the back and forth of her hips.

Dizzy, Lia hummed another moan. She rested her forehead against his, smudging their noses together while they breathed from each other’s mouths. She blinked, and through blurry eyes watched Harry’s eyebrows pulled together, and his eyelids shut tightly. He kept his lips parted while he panted, breathlessly just like her, and then he tightened his hold on her, scooched even further down the couch, and thrusted his hips up, meeting the rolling of her hips.

His hardness stroked exactly where Lia needed him the most, and her entire body jolted.

With a moan, she placed her hands on the back of the couch to hold herself and closed her eyes, concentrating on how incredibly good he felt between her legs.

“Fuck,” Harry’s husky voice grunted, his hot breath hitting her mouth and cheek. “That’s… That’s it. C’mon.”

Lia felt him vibrating all over her body, and electricity blasted her senses.

It was maddening, and agonizing.

It was addictive, and satisfying.

Harry’s body kept stroking and rubbing the right place between her legs, the one she needed for the bubble of tension and pleasure to grow. It spread to her lower back, her belly, her chest, her core. It caused Lia to squeeze her eyes, to furrow her brows, and to tremble. It prompted her to move faster. And also to straighten up a little, shoving her chest onto Harry’s face as she moved her hips to find the constant pressure on that exact wonderful spot she needed to finally explode.

As soon as she found the position she was looking for, she grasped onto the couch and focused on pressing down — pressing down, down, and down, while rolling more, more, and more.

“Fucks sake you’re so hot,” he breathed out, digging his hands into her thighs and his lips all above and around her breasts. He thrusted up to meet her again, gripping and squeezing as she lost the strength and coordination of her body. “Don’t stop. C’mon.”

“Oh my—”

Letting her mouth fall open, Lia cried a gasped moan into the top of his head. A mix between shock, euphoria, and need.

She shut her eyes tightly and shivered, squeezing his waist between her thighs and falling onto him while every single one of her muscles contracted and relaxed all at once.

Frantic.

Shattering.

Fiery.

Pleasure rippled through her. It waved all over — from her belly, to her cheeks, to her toes.

Everything went dark as the thrill and the fizz took over every inch of her. She didn’t want to stop, but she couldn’t help it. It had been a while since she’d been with someone, and even longer since she’d had an orgasm while being with someone, so it made sense that her feelings were so intense. Or that her exhausted body couldn’t handle the sensitivity.

So she nuzzled on his neck and embraced the bliss, catching up her breath while he guided her to ride out the high with slow and gentle touches.

But then, Harry cursed.

He shifted slightly underneath her, grunted, cursed again, and then apologized.

Lia opened her eyes slowly, blinking a couple of times to focus on her surroundings. Harry’s neck was all she could see, though. Pretty, smooth, sweaty skin of his neck. The urge to kiss him was instant, so she licked her lips, snuggled closer, and pressed her mouth to the side of his throat.

Harry squeezed her hips and thrusted up, his covered length sliding onto Lia’s front.

“Fuck. Shit—Sorry.” He chuckled, saying the same words for what felt like the hundredth time. “Sorry, sorry, sorry.”

“S’okay…” Lia murmured, sliding her hands from his shoulders to his chest. Her lips brushed his skin as they moved, and she took the opportunity to kiss it again, and again.

“I’m just… I’m really hard right now…” he confessed the obvious, dropping his head back and grunting to the ceiling. “Shit.”

He shifted again. As if trying to get away from the friction. Or maybe searching to get some more of it.

Lia hummed, slithering her fingers further down his upper body while she scooched backwards on his thighs.

As soon as she reached his high-waisted pants, Harry jolted. He circled her wrists with one hand and squeezed her hip with the other, warning with a chuckle. “Lia…”

He never stopped her, though. So she brushed her nose up and down his neck, and drifted her fingers smoothly along the black fabric.

“What?” she whispered, then pressed a kiss right under his ear. “Want me to stop?”

“Fuck no.”

Lia smiled.

Turning her hand upside down, she covered his bulge and stroked him over his pants. Once, and twice.

At that, Harry moaned.

The sound was so husky, so low and so manly, and yet so vulnerable and so weak at the same time, that it prompted her to repeat the movement. Again. And again.

Even through the fabric of clothes, he felt amazing under her palm—long, thick, and firm.

Lia could only imagine what he would look like, or even taste like. And so she asked, repeating the same question he’d breathed out earlier, “Off?”

Harry barely nodded once before he was already shifting and unbuttoning his pants, and he didn’t even have time to pull his briefs down before Lia’s hand was already working on him. Each time with more strength and confidence. Over and over. Licking her palm to make it easier. Better. Brushing around his tip. Twisting here and there. Squeezing and gripping as she moved up and down.

“Holy shit.” He bucked his hips forward, then covered her hand with his, panting heavily while guiding her touch.

Lia hummed. Parting her lips, she pressed her mouth to his jaw, then slid her tongue to taste the scratchiness of his facial hair.

He moaned again, and then he took his free hand up, ranking his fingers through her hair and yanking her head away from where he couldn’t see her.

“Kiss me,” he murmured, directing her face to his and drawing her in to get exactly what he wanted.

Lia’s response was immediate, losing herself with his mind-numbing, sloppy, and harsh mouth. Kissing the hell out of him while he writhed and struggled beneath her. Going along with the urgent pace of his hand and swallowing each one of his raspy curses and low rumbled moans. Whimpering along when he drove their connected hands from his base to his head, and then back to his base. Or when he squeezed her hand so they could squeeze himself together, or when he stroked further down and managed to focus on other sensitive parts of him.

The way he tasted, the way he smelled, the way he sounded, the way he felt. Watching him, listening to him, and helping him as he crumbled beneath her with pure and raw pleasure. Everything was so powerful that she wouldn’t be surprised if it ended up leading her into another orgasm.

And then every muscle of his body tensed as he pulsed one last time and growled with pleasure.

Lia broke the kiss and pulled away, keeping the pace of her hand and watching the way his mouth fell open, how he furrowed his brows while shutting his eyelids tightly, and how he shuddered underneath her touch. And just like that, the mess was all over her, and him.

The sight was so intense and intimate, that it filled her heart with emotion. So Lia took her free hand to his face, cradled his cheek, and kissed him again. Capturing his bottom lip between hers, sucking it into her mouth, and pouring him with affection.

Harry hummed, closing his mouth around her upper one while slowly coming down from his own high.

He sounded content, and relaxed. And a happy smile bursted out from Lia’s chest, inevitably breaking their kiss.

Smiling as well, Harry leaned in to peck her mouth one more time and pulled away, collapsing onto the couch.

“Holy shit…” he chuckled, breathlessly and quietly. Only for them to hear. “Just… Just so you know… Tomorrow morning I’m going out… And getting us some bloody fucking condoms, ok?”

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles au #this is it for now #there's only so much i can embarrass myself without caring too much about it hehe

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