#not hating on Harry or june I just know what I’m about and thought it’d be funny

[ssum-thinginthewayshemoves]

*~Happy Valentines Day~*

[rhaenyratargayen]

dance, baby // f.w.

summary — fred weasley is feeling sappy a month before his big brother gets married, so he takes his girlfriend out to ask the big question.

word count — 2.7k

warnings — marriage, proposing, cursing.

a/n — hi loves! this is for my bby kai’s @rcwenaclaw 1.5k followers writing challenge! congratulations my love <3 my prompt is “care to dance?” “there’s no music playing!” “so?” 

Fred held your hand tightly in his as he led you through the tall grass behind the Burrow. It was just after sundown, the air cooling as the stars appeared in the sky. You tugged Fred’s old flannel you were wearing tightly around you, squeezing Fred’s hand in the process. He looked back at you, chuckling softly when he realized his long legs were practically leaving you in the dust behind him.

“Sorry, love.” He laughed, slowing his pace.

He lifted his hand still in yours and wrapped it around your waist, pulling you close to him in the process. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and one to your lips before he continued on.

“Where are we even going, Freddie?” You asked, squinting your eyes as you looked out into the empty field.

“Patience, darling.” He chuckled, “It’ll be worth it.”

While all the other Weasleys had gone to bed after a long day, Fred was outside your door and ushering you outside before you could protest or ask why. It was June, the weather was warm and days were filled with playing quidditch and water fights with the garden hose. Even as an adult, summers spent at the Burrow were anything but uneventful.

Still, your mind often wandered to the place it was so many summers ago, reading a book with Hermione in the shade while the others played quidditch, or helping Molly cook dinner in the kitchen. Those memories were fond as they held the warmth of the burrow and the peacefulness in mind – no anxious thoughts of the Dark Lord or fear of the next war.

Your most prominent memories included your current boyfriend, although he wasn’t so fortunate to hold that title years ago.

“Fred. You prick, give me back my book.”

You were sixteen years old, hot from the beating sun, and absolutely furious at the lanky redhead before you.

Fred laughed at your harsh tone, always proud to get a rise out of you. He began running around the yard, tauntingly, with your book held high over his head and completely out of your reach.

George, Ginny, Harry and Ron all stood on the ground with their brooms, waiting impatiently for Fred to return to their game. Hermione rolled her eyes at Fred’s antics from where she sat under the shade tree, clutching her book tighter as if he would return to steal hers as well.

But you stood firm in your place, heels dug into the ground and arms crossed over your chest. You clenched your jaw, exhaling a heavy breath like a bull preparing to charge. Fred turned when he realized you weren’t after your book and looked to you with a confused frown.

“I’m not going to chase you, you git, give it back.” You scoffed, holding your hand out expectedly.

“Y/N,” Fred whined, “You’re always under that shade tree reading, come play a game with us.”

“You mean come play a game with you?” You quipped.

Fred tilted his head and scratched the back of his neck, “I mean yeah… I’ll be there too.”

“You’re unbelievable.” You huffed out a laugh.

You turned on your heel, without your book, and began stomping back to the shade tree. But a gasp left your lips as you felt a hand grab at your wrist, you whipped around to see Fred’s larger hand holding your wrist. It was one of the moments you hated Fred Weasley most; when he made you feel light as a feather with him as your only tether to the ground.

“One game,” He pleaded, “Please?”

“Oi!” Ginny’s booming voice was heard behind Fred, “Didn’t Mum ever tell you stealing isn’t a good way of flirting?”

Fred sighed dramatically as soon as he heard the cackles from his brothers at Ginny’s comment.

“Sod off!” He scoffed.

“Let’s go mate, we wanna play again.” George huffed, standing with his hands on his hips.

“‘M trying to get Y/N to play with us, then we’ll have an even six.”

Y/N sighed as the others perked up at his suggestion, suddenly in on his plan if that meant a fair game for them.

“Come on, Y/N, what do you say?” Ginny grinned.

“It’s too hot,” You protested, “I was just about to head inside, anyway.”

“Too hot? I’ve got a solution for that.”

It took you too many seconds to realize what George meant, and before a scream of protest could leave your lips you were being soaked from head to foot as George raised his wand in the air, the garden hose raining over you and Fred like a downpour.

All were silent as the water stopped, revealing your absolute furious expression and clenched fists.

“This is your fault, Weasley.” You spoke dangerously quiet to Fred.

He bit his lip to contain the bark of laughter he so desperately wanted to let out, and he couldn’t help but find you absolutely adorable in that moment.

“And you’re gonna pay for it.”

You began chasing Fred just as he had wanted in the beginning. He laughed loudly as he weaved through the tall grass, slowing his speed to allow you almost close enough to catch him before he ran off again. Soon enough your screams of fury were cut up by laughter and Fred finally let you catch him, laughing uncontrollably when you knocked him to the ground.

Memories like that kept you feeling afloat, kept the light burning when things became too hard to handle. Any memory you had with Fred you held close to your heart, treasuring them all individually, afraid to lose them.

It wasn’t long after that you had become Fred’s official girlfriend. After years of mutual pining and immaturely making each other jealous as teenagers, all it took was one insufferable Dolores Umbridge to bring the two of you together ultimately on the day of the twin’s escape from Hogwarts.

Your boots clicked rapidly against the floor as you rushed to the top of the stairs where the boys were waiting. You desperately hoped you weren’t too late.

The thought of not having Fred in your life overcame any pride you had. Not having him scared you, and with the clock ticking down on your realization, you rushed to find Fred to let him know how you felt before he was gone.

“Fred.” You sighed in relief as you spotted two redheads looking over the balcony of the staircase. Below you could see the hall filled with students taking their exams as Fred and George waited for their opportune moment.

“Y/N?” Fred turned back with a surprised grin.

He wasn’t sure he would see you before he left, after all you two didn’t get along. He worried that the banter you two had wasn’t a cover up for your feelings for one another, he worried maybe you truly didn’t like him, but all of his anxious worries washed away the moment he saw the adoration on your face as you saw him.

He rushed towards you and wrapped his arms around you, digging his face into the crook of your neck and inhaling your scent as your arms wrapped around his neck. He felt his stomach fill with the familiar flutters he felt around you, but it was different this time because he knew you were feeling them too.

“I was afraid I was too late.” You sighed as you pulled back.

Fred kept his arms around you, keeping you close to him and savoring the moment he longed for before he was off and out of this school forever.

“I would’ve waited ages for you, darling.” The sincerity in his tone stole your breath, your vision now only filled with everything Fred Weasley.

“I’m gonna miss you, Freddie.” You muttered, afraid if you spoke up you might break under the thought of him leaving after you finally confessed.

“Hey,” He cooed, petting your hair, “It’s only two months before you're out of here for good too, and when you are I’ll be waiting for you to get off the train and we can pick up where we left off, yeah?”

You nodded, holding on to the promise of his words and the love you felt for him. With a confident inhale, you put on a smile as you blinked up at him. You fell for the mischief in his eyes in that moment, the mischief that couldn’t wait to go out with a bang and start up a joke shop with George.

“I’ll see you soon, then?” You giggled softly.

“Sooner than you think.”

Suddenly you felt his hands cupping your face as he stared down at you in adoration, like he was holding his entire world in his hands. He waited for you to nod slightly at him before he dipped down and connected his lips with yours.

It was euphoric, to finally kiss him after so long. The kiss held a thousand meanings; a hello and a goodbye. You clung to him at the thought, sucking lightly on his bottom lip and feeling him tug you closer in return. You chased his lips as he pulled back, and he indulged you with one last kiss before he was off on his broom.

“I’ve been patient long enough, Freddie,” You laughed, “Are we almost there now?”

Fred smiled back at you but didn’t answer, he only continued with your hand in his until the two of you reached the peak of a small hill. You gasped as you reached the top, his question suddenly answered as you caught a glimpse of floating lights circling around a picnic blanket laid out in the grass.

“Oh, Freddie.” You sighed happily, taking the lead as you rushed towards the comfortable spot.

“I told you it’d be worth it.”

Fred placed his hand on your waist and spun you to face him, his lips colliding with yours before you could even comprehend his actions. You smiled instantly, pausing the kiss to giggle softly before you wrapped your arms around his neck and sunk to the ground over the blanket.

“I love you.” You sighed against his lips.

Fred hummed in return, moving to hover over you. His thumb ran softly over your hip as his lips peppered kisses along your cheek and the corner of your mouth.

“Trust me, not as much as I love you.”

You scoffed, playfully, fighting back wordlessly as you caught his lips again in a kiss. He exhaled a breathy laugh at your actions, pecking your lips several times before he pulled away and sat up.

“Merlin, you’re perfect.” He muttered to himself as he watched you sit up to face him, pure innocence on your face as he knew you had no idea of the events to come for the night.

A smile rose to your lips, along with growing affection in your chest as you moved to sit beside him, tucking your face in his chest as he wrapped his arms around you once again.

“You’re rather needy tonight, aren't’ you love?” He teased.

“Well you’re being awfully romantic.” You quipped back.

He chuckled to himself, “You have no idea.”

You sat there for a moment, enjoying being in each other’s arms under a starry night sky. His scent filled your senses, lulling you to a state of uteral peace, a state your mind brought you to everytime you thought of him. Fred was where you always wanted to be, not only was he the love of your life but he was your home as well.

“Care to dance?” He spoke up, suddenly.

Your brows furrowed as your head shot up to face him. He had an obnoxiously adorable smile on his face, one that could unknowingly make you do absolutely anything. The air had started to cool and you were much warmer cuddled up beside him, but his smile was far too adorable to immediately shut down his offer.

“Fred,” You laughed, softly, “There’s no music playing.”

Fred scoffed playfully, immediately standing to his feet confidently.

“So?” He shrugged, holding his hand out to you, “When has something like that ever stopped me before?”

You bit your lip as your eyes met his, sharing the mischievous glint you used to hate so much. It had grown on you in the best possible way, becoming one of the things you loved about your boyfriend most.

With a knowing head tilt from Fred, you playfully rolled your eyes in protest before you slapped your hand in his, snickering as you heard his laughter roar as he pulled you to your feet.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead before he twirled you around and into his chest. His hand fell at your waist, the other holding yours delicately in the air beside you. You hadn’t even thought about the absence of music, instead finding yourself getting lost in how he held you.

Being near Fred was simultaneously dizzying and grounding. Your overwhelming love for him sometimes had you feeling like you were floating on cloud nine, slipping out of this reality and into one where you could be with him forever, but the tenderness in his voice as he spoke to you, the firmness in the way he held you; grounded you to the point where you didn’t feel like you needed to drift away to another reality, this one was just fine as long as he was in it.

“What’re you thinking about, princess?” Fred rested his head on yours, not even needing to look at you to know what your silence meant.

“You,” You sighed, honestly, “I love you.”

Fred stopped swaying and pulled back to look at you, cupping your face in his hand the instant you raised your head.

“I know you’re scared, Merlin, I am too,” He sighed, “But it doesn’t seem so scary when I look at you. It doesn’t seem like some mountain to overcome, it just seems like an obstacle to face, and we will face it. When I look at you, I don’t worry about the fear because I know when we come out on the other side you’ll still love me like you do now.”

Your eyes flitted between his, holding on to every word he said. You sank into the feeling of his hold on you, your own hands clasping together around his neck. He bit his lip as he paused, tearing his gaze from the landscape behind you to look you in the eyes.

There it was, that mischievous glint. And before you could question the suspicious romantic actions of your boyfriend, he had lowered himself on one knee before you. You gasped as he took your hands in his, running his thumb along your knuckles comfortingly, like he knew how rapid your heart was racing as his was too.

“I’m scared, fuckin’ hell I am,” Fred nodded rapidly, “But Bill and Fleur are getting married in two months. They aren’t letting the fear stop them from being with each other and that’s how I feel with you, Y/N. Whatever happens is worth it to me if you and I are together in the end.”

Your hands shook in his, silent tears streaming down your face as you longed to jump into his arms. You knew your answer, he knew your answer, but you awaited the moment and welcomed it graciously.

“You are the love of my life,” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a black velvet box, opening it to you to reveal a stunning ring, “Love, will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

Your tears fell as the words left his lips, and you were nodding before you could choke out a coherent, ‘yes’. Fred cried as well, his tears falling rapidly as he slid the ring on your finger, he took a moment to admire it, capturing the image in his mind.

He held you tightly as you jumped into his arms once he stood, your lips finding his immediately. You kissed Fred Weasley with a passion you hadn’t felt before, melting into his embrace as the weight of the ring on your finger sunk in. You were to be his and he was to be yours, fully and officially.

“I love you.” Fred mumbled against your lips as he pulled away, breathless.

As your eyes searched the face of your fiance, no trace of fear settled in either of your minds. You were joined in a love much deeper than any dark magic or fear could penetrate.

“I love you, Fred Weasley.”

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[enviedear]

miss moonlight, put in a word → draco malfoy

DESCRIPTION ⌙ in which draco sees the same annoying hufflepuff he’s enamored within his dreams every night, but can’t muster up the courage to talk to her in waking life. so instead he talks to the moon, telling the rock that’s miles away, everything he wants to tell her. little does he know, she does the same thing.

PAIRING ⌙ draco x fem!reader

WORD COUNT ⌙ 3k

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

its a little angsty im sorry. but im nervous abt this and have been sitting on posting it for almost a month now so please lmk if you like it :)

based off the songs talking to the moon by bruno mars and please mr sun by tommy edwards

she waves at him, her eyes holding a happy glimmer. he walks closer to her and wraps his long arms around her, pulling her close. he breathes in her scent and she giggles. it sounds like heaven. he holds her like that for what feels like forever before she pulls away.

he watches as she sits down in the grass, patting the place beside her.

“sit draco.” she commands. he complies.

“i love it when i’m asleep. you’re here and the world is so much more peaceful.” he smiles, a real true smile. not like the ones he usually gives now.

“but imagine if we were awake. the world might not be so wonderful, but we’d have each other. and the sun. and the wind. and the trees. and missus moon.” she grins, looking up at the bright blue sky.

he wants to agree, and tell her that’s all they’ll ever need. but he knows he can’t. because truth be told he needs more. he needs to know his family will be safe. he needs to know if he’ll make it out of his sixth year alive. he needs more than the sun and moon.

instead, he places his head in her lap, relishing in the way her fingers card through his hair. she sings a song he can’t place as he falls asleep. 

“i love you y/n” he whispers, right before he dozes off.

that’s how the dreams usually end. he always slips off to sleep so peacefully in your arms. but when he wakes up, he’s still in the slytherin dorm, lonely and afraid.

yours end in the same way, and when you wake, you’re clutching your pillow as if it’s him. you don’t dare tell anyone about the dreams. your friends and family would think you mad. but it’s enough for you to be able to have them, even if you’re not sure if they’re shared or not. 

you see the way he looks in the dining hall, potions, and in passing. he’s always so monotonous. so unlike the boy you’ve grown up with.

you of course have dreams, where he’s told you everything that has happened to him. he’s confessed to you that he’s working with voldemort, for his parents' sake. he even told you about dumbledore. but no matter how much you beg him to leave that life behind, he can't. besides, you’re dreaming all of this. who’s to say it’s even real. 

so you stay away, yearning for bedtime. where you can talk to the boy you love more than anything else in the world.

you’re not sure how the dreams started but you have an idea.

and so does draco.

he reckons he must have used some sort of wandless magic the night he was thinking to himself on the astronomy tower. it had been a humid night and he was all alone. his eyes deadset on the bright moon in front of him. he had just started talking.

he knew the moon wasn’t someone that could actually listen but then again, maybe that’s what he wanted? he didn’t want someone to place any input on his situation. he just wanted to speak and let his thoughts travel into the void and maybe out from his aching head.

“i just want everything to be okay. mother deserves a son who can protect her and.. father needs me. i can’t fail.  i just wish i had someone to talk to when the sun goes down. someone kind and someone warm. i know they’re somewhere out there. but maybe all i’ll ever have is you missus moon, at night when it’s just the stars to listen in to our conversation.” the boy had mumbled, before making his way to his dorm room.

you had been having a word with missus moon that night as well, alone in your hufflepuff prefect dorm. you thought yourself lucky to have a window so that you could see the stars and the moon. you were fighting sleep and had no one else to speak to, so you watched the bright yellow moon as you recounted your troubles.

“my dreams have been so bad recently missus moon. i think it’s because i’m still so scared for everyone and myself. they say the dark lord could strike any day. i’d hate for anyone i love or even myself to end up like poor cedric. i wish i had someone to talk to, someone to understand. everyone thinks i’m crazy, but they don’t know what i know. the world is getting scary. at least when the stars light up my room i have you missus moon.” you had sighed getting off the floor and laying down in your bed.

that night draco dreamt of flower fields and you. at first, the boy wondered if maybe it was real. it seemed real. he could see you and everything around you so vividly. and the same for you, you made out his platinum hair and could smell his crisp cologne. but when the two of you awoke, you knew it couldn’t be real.

until the next night, where the both of you met again in your dreams.

“are you following me?” you had asked draco.

he narrowed his eyes at you, “how could i follow you into a dream. what a stupid thing to ask.”

“you’re supposed to be nice to me. this is my dream after all.” you had pouted.

draco snorted, “i need to stop drinking tea before bed. i’m having dreams where the people in them think they’re the ones doing the dreaming.”

“but i am the one dreaming! this is my dream. i can control it, watch!” you’d grinned, before commanding a nearby tree to grow apples.

draco’s eyes had widened, “no, this can’t be right.”

you watched as he wished for the tree to grow taller before glaring at you, “smack yourself.”

you glared back at him, “no, but you can shove your fist down your throat if you’re going to be rude.”

draco circled you, “so you don’t have to do what i tell you and neither do i. strange.”

“why would i have to do what you tell me to do in my own dream?” you’d asked.

the boy had shrugged, “maybe it’s not just your dream. maybe it’s mine too.”

that’s the most the two of you ever discussed the shared dreams. after that there wasn’t a need. you both enjoyed them. both of you needed them.

once in study hall you caught draco reading a book about dreams but you didn’t ask him about it. in truth, you were too afraid to have him label you as insane.

draco found himself wanting to speak with you too. countless times. he had grown quite fond of you after the dreams he found you in every night. so in the daytime, he would sneak glances at you. he took notice if you did your hair differently or if your makeup was done. of course, he knew he couldn’t talk to you. you’d think him mad. still, he found himself dropping subtle clues to see if you’d come over to him, like reading a ghastly book about dreams in a class the two of you shared. it hadn’t worked but he could have sworn he caught you looking his way.

draco spends hours obsessing over you, the dreams, and the few glances you would give him. but the vanishing cabinet is almost fixed and he knows it’d be foolish to speak to you now. no matter how much he wishes to run into your arms and tell you to take him away from here, he won’t. 

it’s a dreary day in june and you’re getting snacks for some of the first years when you hear it. maniacal laughter and breaking glass. your first thought is to check on your house. you rush into the hufflepuff common room and make sure everyone’s ok and then urge them to stay safe. they nod and bolt to their dorms.

then, you make your way to the source of the noise. the dining hall, which is torn to shreds, is crawling with death eaters. you feel lightheaded as you watch them. out of the corner of your eye, you see professor snape making his way to the astronomy tower.

curious, you quietly sneak behind him, careful not to make yourself known. you hear a voice above you. a voice you recognize.

draco. 

you’re trying your hardest to figure out what he’s saying but you can’t. all the sounds around you are blending together and you can’t seem to calm down enough to hear anything. when the professor reaches the tower, underneath the scene of whatever is going on, you stay behind.

in a flash, the teacher is out of your vision and upstairs in the chaos.

“severus, please.” is all you hear before the killing curse bolts out of snape’s mouth.

you stand in shock as the footsteps trail out of the tower. draco. snape. dumbledore. death eaters. it was all so much.

“y/n! are you ok?” a watery-eyed harry potter asks from beside you. you don’t even question how he got here or if he saw what you did. instead, you fling your arms around him and stare at the wall petrified. no tears can escape your eyes, you’re in disbelief.

“come on. you have to breathe and we have to get down there. get your wand ready. we have to do something!” he shouts, voice breaking.

you look at him for a second before he bolts out of the room, wand in hand.

instead of trying to fight, talking to anyone about what you saw, or even going to look at your headmaster’s dead body like everyone else, you slip quietly into your prefects dorm.

you watch the moon until she’s gone and when you see mr sun the tears finally fall. you mumble, “talk to him please, mr sun.”

draco glanced at the blinding sun from the malfoy garden, where he had spent the night. he couldn’t be in that house. not after everything that happened. so instead, he sat in the garden thinking of his best thoughts, you.

he watches the sunrise, listens to the winds and the robins singing, and mutters to himself, “tell her how i feel. it shouldn’t end this way. since you are all her friends, she’ll listen to whatever you have to say.”

a baby robin sings a little louder, almost like it’s agreeing, and it causes the boy to cry.

it’s an eerily quiet early morning in the room of requirement on the second of may. you’re in the back of the room, trying to sleep. sleep has become your only form of happiness. your dreams have become a wonderful fairytale. draco is still prevalent and he holds you tighter and tighter with each night.

almost as soon as you drift to bed, you hear gasps. you look up to find harry, ron, and hermione. without a care in the world, you rush to the three just like everyone else. harry gives you a weak smile and you return it.

the three of them explain that today is the day. today is the day the world is split into two and voldemort attacks. plans are arranged and everyone holds each other close.

selfishly, you wish you could see draco. 

minutes later, a meeting is called by snape in the dining hall. You watch as neville and ginny procure robes for the green-eyed boy and walk to the hall.

the carrows look at everyone with malice in their eyes as snape drones on about a sighting of harry in hogsmeade. soon after, harry shows himself and begins arguing with the black-haired man. he tells everyone about the night in the astronomy tower.

mcgonagall throws curses at the man along with harry before he flies out of the hall. The woman looks at all of us, eyes wide but determined.

in a rush, everyone is scattered about. you follow neville to the bridge and help as much as you can. when the death eaters, led by greyback, enter hogwarts, you stand your ground. you’re ready to fight.

draco easily locates blaise and goyle before heading off to find his wand and harry potter. his chest aches with looming fear but he tries to repress it the most he can.

“i guess this is it boys.” blaise sighs.

draco looks at his friend, “we’ll be fine. just stay safe and together. don’t go weak on me now zabini.”

you’re doing your best to fight off corban yaxley but every time you’re ready to throw a killing blow his way he narrowly hits you with the killing curse. your fighting in a state of pure unadulterated anger. it’s been hours of fighting but your anger remains.

“stupid little girl, you’ll be dead before nightfall.” yaxley spits before hitting you with a weak spell. 

you still double over a bit, but hold your ground enough to raise your wand and hit him with the cruciatus curse. in the corner of your eye you watch professor flintwick begin dueling the vicious man, before running inside the castle.

fire burns everywhere around draco. he’s about to turn to blaise and say his goodbyes before potter snatches him up and leads him out of the room of requirement. the second he’s on the ground he makes a run for it. he loses blaise on the way and can’t seem to figure out where to go. he’s on the second floor, tears are pooling out of his eyes and the ache in his chest has grown when his body collides with another.

you fall back, hitting your head against the hard stone of the castle floor. when you look up, your vision is hazy and shaky.

“y/n?”

you know that voice. it’s the same voice you’ve heard every single night for a year.

“draco?” you ask, hands reaching out.

“you’re bleeding. let me help,” he says before gently healing your head.

you stare at the boy, “you know it feels weird to see you. i’ve never really spoken to you besides the dreams.”

his eyes grow wide, “you know about those?”

you smile a little, “yeah, i do.”

the two of you find yourselves entering the great hall, helping whoever you two can.

draco is comforting a teary-eyed second year when blaise zabini comes in, eyes bloodshot and clutching his right arm.

you watch as the two embrace, pulling apart so that draco can tend to his arm.

minutes that feel like hours pass as the three of you silently process the commotion going on around you.

a tattered luna lovegood emerges through the rubble and towards the three of you.

“everyone’s outside now- harry he... i think you all should come with me.” her shaky voice requests.

draco looks to you and nods, helping you rise. his hand grasps yours and you all follow luna outside.

all around you is destruction. the place you’ve called home for years in now a bruised battleground and at the very center of it stands the man you’ve come to fear more than anything in the world. voldemort. 

“harry potter, is dead.” the creature laughs.

you grip draco tighter and he looks at you with an expression of sorrow.

“from this day forth you put your faith in me. and now is the time to declare yourself! come forward and join us. or die.” the man spits, smiling at the broken faces opposite him.”

it is quiet for just a moment before lucius malfoy calls for his son. you watch the man and his wife plead with him. but his hand remains in yours and feet right beside you.

you look up at him and give him your brightest smile, a smile you would give him in dreams. as he peers down at you he knows that nothing in the world means more to him than you and that smile he’s spent hours telling missus moon about.

“you insolent boy, draco!” the snake-like man hisses.

you turn to face him, eyes wide with fury and hate.

neville begins limping toward the band of villains.

“i’d like to say something.” the boys breathes out.

voldemort smirks at him, “well neville i’m sure we’d all be fascinated to hear what you have to say.”

“you’re wrong! harry’s heart did beat for us, for all of us!” and with that, he pulls the sword of godric gryffindor out of the sorting hat he’s been clutching and aims it at the deatheaters and their leader.

draco’s head cranes in harry’s direction, and in an instant, the boy flies out of hagrid’s arms and throws a spell at voldemort.

you cry out along with everyone else before watching voldemort’s followers disappear.

“come on, we’ve fought enough. i won’t let you die now!” draco commands, leading you to the bridge.

you follow, but turn to look at the castle one last time. draco stops as well and you see him meet ron and hermione’s gaze. ron nods his head and draco returns the gesture.

“let’s go draco.” you sigh.

he didn’t know he’d see you again. the two of you had gone to your home to bathe and sleep and when the boy found himself in his dreams, he saw you.

you smile at the platinum haired boy, “sit draco.”

he complies. 

“i hope you haven’t gotten tired of seeing me. i suppose it will be a lot now. to have me in waking and in sleep.” you giggle.

draco stares at you deeply, “i could never get tired of you. i’ve spent a year talking to the moon, trying to get you. in hopes you're on the other side, talking to me too. i’ve asked the sun to tell you all the things i couldn’t, the wind to whisper all the things i love about you, all the rainbows to make you smile, and the trees to take you under their branches. i’d want nothing more than this.”

you lean your head on his shoulder, “i’m here now and we have eternity to tell eachother the things we haven’t said yet.”

the two of you can’t help but to stare at the moon some nights, silently thanking missus moonlight for putting in a word.

[harrywritingsbyme]

Going Virtual

Based Off Of This Ask

A/N: I love this concept sm!! like Harry is in full pest mode with this one lmao...but it’s cute. Enjoy🙃

School was back in session. Not only was Harry’s 7 year old beginning the first day of 3rd grade, you were also in school and going into your sophomore year of college. Harry had gotten so comfortable spending all of his time with you both over the past 6 months, and even more since June that he was practically dying from boredom because of having all this newfound time to himself. And it wasn’t even alone time. It was him being all by himself while you two were confined to your respective spaces in the house to get you guys’ schoolwork done. You guys were literally so close, but yet so far away from him now. All he wanted to do was pull you both away from the computers to spend time together. The only moments he had with you or his son were the brief periods when either of you summoned him for assistance or for a refreshment of your snacks. With school in the picture even more, there was just about no time in the day for Harry. At least when you two physically went to school you both were kind of out of sight out of mind so to speak given the fact that he didn’t have much accessibility to either of you during the day.

Now even though you and Harry’s son were in school and doing schoolwork during the day, it didn’t stop Harry from being a bit of a pest at times. And he was mainly a pest to you. When he would bring you guys snacks while you were taking care of your assignments, during and after school, he’d try his hardest to shift some of you guys’ attention onto him. Now he wouldn’t try as hard to get at his son. The most he’d do was attempt to instigate a tickle fight or offer up some play time. But due to Harry’s successful efforts to have consistency and put your work first before play when raising his son, his tactics weren’t being accepted at all. Bubs would simply tell Harry, or daddy for that matter, to stop and that he could play with him later. And because he was so adorable and Harry couldn’t get enough of him, he’d give his cheeks a good pinch with a kiss to the forehead before offering to help with his work.

But with you on the other hand, Harry didn’t go that easy.

Instead of just leaving you alone after you pushed him away, he continued on. He’d try to pull your chair away from the table while you’re typing away on your computer. He’d also sit on the floor while you’re in your zoom classes and pull at your pants leg or hem of your shorts depending on what clothing item you threw onto your body before your class. And eventually he did in fact leave once you practically (and almost literally) kicked him out of the room. But he didn’t stop his little attacks to get your attention there. He’d even send you raunchy messages, explaining in detail all of the many ways and times he wanted to take you. And this wasn’t just during your classes; this was also when you were working on your assignments. He refused to let up. And believe it or not, Harry began working even harder to get your attention within in the last couple of weeks. It’d only been about a month and he’d already begun to intensify his “attacks”.

And today was nothing short of Harry trying to get you and bubs’ attention. If he wasn’t lying on the couch reading or trying to write or do anything that was in the slightest bit productive, Harry was checking in on you and bubs. He’d periodically make his way to you guys’ workspaces to check in and bring you snacks and any help if needed. Once he checked in on the third grader down the hall, he’d take a stroll down to your space to check in on and bug you. When you were in one of your zoom classes a bit earlier on in the day, Harry walked into the room, brought you what he normally got you at that time, then sat on the floor next to you so that he could be a pest. Today you were wearing shorts so his pest level had spiked, he was touching you and just not leaving you alone. He enjoyed making you gasp or react to his touches while your camera was on. Now even though you thought that his efforts were cute and you felt a bit bad for not spending a lot of time with him, it didn’t stop you from plucking Harry whenever you weren’t writing something down. You didn’t know why, but it was a bit nice to give him a pluck here and there while he tried to seduce you into stepping away from your computer.

To make things worse, he knew your schedule in and out! This meant that he’d come in during the tail end of one of your classes then continue being an even bigger pest when you were trying to get some work done in between.

“Can you please like leave me alone.” You ask calmly, keeping your eyes on the screen in front of you.

“Umm no. That is, only if you take a little break right now.” Harry barters from below, continuing to touch you.

“Why don’t you go bother your son? I bet he wants to see his daddy more than I do right now.” You say matter of factly, finally turning your head down to look at him.

“Well first of all, you calling me daddy right now was a big mistake and because of it I’m going to be an even bigger pest.” Harry begins. At least he admitted to being a pest. “Now second of all, I’ve already checked on him and he doesn’t need me. So now I’m in here.” He continues on with his explanation.

“Oh my god! We’re gonna need some defense strategies against you.” You huff. “What is it going to take for you to leave me alone?” You ask, deciding to finally give into his antics of it meant that you’d have a little moment to get some Harry free work done.

“Let me make you cum and I’ll leave you alone. I know you’re already drenched since I did see that you read my messages.” Harry says.

“Fine, but hurry up. I need to get back to my paper.” You concede, standing up from your seat to let him have your way with you.

“Well you don’t have to be so hostile, it’s not like you’re not going to enjoy it. If you don’t, I’ll be reevaluating my skills while you ignore me.” Harry replies as he lifts himself up from the ground, letting out a series of grunts in the process.

“Well it never hurts an old dog to get new tricks.” You push back. The age gap was a definite hot button for the two of you so if there was any window to push it, you were going to take that opportunity.

“Well I don’t think that I’ve heard you complain about my old tricks.” Harry begins, pushing back the chair to stand behind you. “In fact, I always hear you screaming for more.” Harry whispers into your ear as he swiftly tugs your shorts and panties down your legs in one motion.

“Maybe.” You reply defiantly, trying to stand your ground with him.

“That’s where you’re mistaken baby.” Harry hums, bringing a hand down between your legs. “And judging but the stickiness between your legs, you know that it’s not just maybe either.” Harry continues, pushing two of his fingers up and down your folds before finally pushing them into your entrance.

“Oh my god.” You sigh,  taking in the feeling of his fingers entering you. You hated it when he was right, but this time he was, his fingers felt so good.

“Not so mad at me bothering you now huh?” He chuckles behind you, continuing to pump his fingers in and out of you.

“No” You whimper. His fingers were doing wonders to your body. And that was all he was doing. Hw was simply fucking his fingers into your hole and you were falling apart as you clutched onto the edge of the desk for dear life.

“Good girl.” He praises, bringing his face to your neck to sponge kisses into your neck as he pleasures you. While he continues pumping his fingers into you, he moves his hand that was securely planted on your waist down to your front to begin circling two of his fingers around your clit.

Right now, you were going insane. Your paper was now long forgotten; at least for the time being. Harry’s hands were like magic between your legs and you could feel yourself beginning to drift closer to the edge. There was a special warmth that infiltrated your body when you were getting closer to letting go, and you were starting to feel it move through your body. You were also beginning to feel the knot in the pit of your stomach begin to tighten.

“Can feel y’clenching up around me, wanna cum sweets?” Harry hums into your ear, fanning his warm breath across your skin and creating goosebumps all across your body in the process.

“Please daddy.” You pant in response, feeling your lower half begin to go numb.

“Let go f’me baby.” He whispers, pushing his fingers as deep as possible and holding it there while continuing to stimulate your clit.

“Fuck!” You exclaim lowly, trying to hold back your moans as you cum around his fingers.

“That’s it sweet girl.” Harry praises happily, feeling your walls contract around his fingers. While you continue riding the wave of your release, Harry keeps his fingers inside of you and he continues placing kisses onto your neck as well. And once you finish riding out the amazing orgasm that ripped right through you, your mind goes right back to what you need to get done. And to be honest, for some reason that was unbeknownst to Harry, he absolutely loved that about you.

“Can I go write my paper now.” You huff shakily, trying to move your feet around to reagin more feeling in your legs and trying to get your mind straight again.

“Only if you promise to spend some more time with me and bubs later, we miss you.” Harry bargains, slowly removing his fingers from inside of you.

“Fine.” You breathe out cheerfully. In that moment, you didn’t exactly know what you were happy about. You weren’t sure if you were happy about getting a nice little break in the monotony of your work or of it was from the fact that Harry was finally going to leave you alone for a little while or that you were going to finally spend some time with the little family you were lucky enough to be apart of. Either way, you were definitely going to take a bit of a break later.

And let’s just say that this school year was going to be a bit of an interesting one for Harry.

Masterlist

[theasstour]

𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐄 | 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 𝟏𝟎.𝟒𝐊 𝐍𝐁: 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞

A/N: IT’S FINALLY HERE 🐚🌊✨ Lightkeeper!Harry is here and I’m BEYOND excited to show you lot this concept I’ve been thinking about quite literally everyday for MONTHS now! I love this story with my entire heart, and I really hope it resonates with some of you and that you fall completely in love with lightkeeper!harry and ST like I have 🥺 Love you! Enjoy! x

Thursday, 11 June

The universe would always balance itself out, Y/N McKay was aware of this. She was aware that if she had faith and believed everything happens for a reason, it would make the tough times of her life easier to mentally handle. If she did good, the universe would work to give it back to her in some other form. However, that didn’t mean that when something dreadful did happen it wouldn’t affect her, and she wouldn’t feel hopeless. Because she did. Very much so.

Most of her life she had lived in a constant state of harmony. She was neither displeased nor satisfied with the life she was leading because it kept her out of trouble; it kept her safe. Her entire life she had lived in peace in Winchester, a fairly prissy town in the middle of Hampshire county in England. Her father owned a business of sorts, Y/N had never gotten the details of it or how he’d gotten where he was, but all she knew was he inherited it from his father and it was expected to be handed down generation after generation in the McKay family. However, Y/N was an only child and neither her mum nor her dad thought she’d be fit to run the business when the time came.

“Nothing personal, darling,” her mother had said when it was brought up during a dinner when Y/N was still in sixth form. “You just don’t have the brains for it.”

“What your mother means to say,” Y/N’s father went on. “You’re so intelligent in your own way, running the business won’t make you happy.”

They always called it that. The business. They never told her what it was about or explained when she asked questions about it. Not that she expected her dad to be a drug lord, but it would’ve been nice to be let in on something. It would’ve been nice to be given the opportunity to feel of enough importance to someone to know special things.

Y/N looked out the window of the train, the Cornish coast stretching out as far as the eye could see, the sun not yet hanging high enough on the sky to make it dreadful to walk outside in her black oversized smock dress. The book in her lap was still open, though she’d read the same page over and over and over again, not being able to concentrate for long enough to remember what happened at the top of the piece of paper. Everything was fuzzy and she had too much to think about; too much to consider.

The last 24 hours had been the worst of her life. Yesterday had turned everything upside down and she hated it. However, thinking the universe would balance itself out and work in her favour, she was also aware that the reason her life needed help to be smoothed out by higher powers in the first place, was because it was in imbalance. Something was off. Something had thrown it off. But she forced herself to stay hopeful, knowing that if she lost that little flicker of hope in what seemed like an endless night, it’d be next to impossible to find her way back to peacefulness.

She glanced down at the book in her lap and was about to start reading again, not liking it when she had to put the book away in the middle of a chapter. She wasn’t given the opportunity as the overhead speakers sounded their soft alarm, and next second, a woman was speaking.

“Next stop is St Ives. Doors will open on the right-hand side.”

The nerves Y/N had felt in the pit of her stomach came back again, this time with more intensity than the last few. Though she realised what she was doing that morning when she boarded her train for Reading, and then again when she stepped on the train for St Erth, and yet again when she sat down on the train towards St Ives, this time it felt worse than all those times before. This was it. She was here.

She had no idea why she chose St Ives out of all places in Cornwall – in the world even –, why here of all places? Even years later, she could never seem to remember the exact moment when she chose that coastal town, or why it had appealed to her at all. Maybe it was the fact that it had a beach, or that it wasn’t particularly populated, or that there was no way anyone she had ever known would be there. The most important part however, and maybe the only reason why she chose St Ives, was because it was far away from Winchester. It was far away from her family, from her ex, and everything she associated with that town and everyone living in it.

She put The Well of Loneliness by Radclyffe Hall away in her purse, slinging her purse over her head to rest across her chest before she reached up and took her old leather bag down from the overhead compartment.  This was the only one she would risk bringing as it used to be her father’s back in the day, but he never used it anymore and wouldn’t suspect it being gone. Placing the strap on her shoulder, she walked off to the closest door, apologising when she jabbed someone with her bag on the way out.

Stepping off, Y/N instantly regretted wearing a long-sleeved dress. Though she was under the protection of the roof above the platform, the heat was still almost insufferable. It got her wondering if this was just a normal day in the very South of England or if it was an exceptionally hot one. She prayed for the latter.

She walked out of the station, staying in the cool shade for a few minutes longer as she typed in the address of the inn she was staying at. Not really knowing how public transit worked here yet, she didn’t want to risk taking the wrong bus or asking a tourist for directions to a place they’d never heard of. Instead, she put her EarPods in and went on her merry way. The second she stepped out into the sun, she was once again reminded of why she’d never wear that black dress again that summer.

The Roaming Crab Inn was on The Terrace, the road along the coast of St Ives, holding dozens of hotels and other places to stay during a visit. Y/N didn’t know why she’d chosen this exact inn, or how she’d even happened upon it. It might’ve had something to do with the picture of the old lady grinning from ear to ear on the inn’s website. A picture that was so lovely and so warm that, in the midst of everything Y/N was going through right then, it made her tear up.

She stepped into the inn, placing her sunglasses on the top of her head, and made sure her hair looked alright before walking a bit further inside. Cherry wooden panels lined the floors, walls, and ceiling, a reception desk in the same style attached to the wall to the right. Pictures of all kinds of people hung on the walls. Y/N suspected it might be locals as well as dear guests who had come and gone over the years. No lights were on as the sharp afternoon sun was sufficient in keeping the lobby just bright enough o that electricity wasn’t needed. Fake green vines hung along the ceiling and walls, as well as from different pots on the fireplace to the right that didn’t seem to be in use. Still, two old recliners stood beside it, tempting to sit down and drown in, to escape a turbulent life.

To the left was a staircase leading up to the other landings, and though Y/N hadn’t stepped foot on it yet, she already knew it creaked. This entire house seemed more like a cottage you’d find in the middle of the country, not on the coast of South England. She slowly started making her way over to the reception, and that was when she noticed the back door. Behind the desk was an old, white windowed door, a little smaller in height but a little wider in breadth than normal doors – like the entrance. It was open, leading the way out into a back garden that seemed to be both small and surrounded by the neighbouring houses on all sides. The wooden fence was covered in vines, flowers of all kinds poking out amongst them and on the ground around. The stone paved patio seemed to be old and uneven, there was a set of bistro metal chairs in all the colours of the rainbow along with a white table to match them.

A gang of old ladies sat around the table, chattering amongst themselves and occasionally laughing, all holding a different knitting project each. Y/N hated the thought of disturbing them, but she also just wanted to check in and go up to her room; maybe even go for a walk to take a look around the place she’d be in for the next few weeks.

She reached for the bell, hitting it lightly as to not make it sound urgent and intrusive. A small yelp was heard from the back garden and then the sound of the metal chair scraping against the stone patio. As she heard the footsteps get closer, Y/N glanced around, taking in the interior of the inn undisturbed one more. As someone appeared in the doorway and their eyes met, the old lady who stood there gave Y/N that warm smile of hers she’d seen online the night before.

“Hello, dear!” she chirped, placing her glasses on the bridge of her nose and walking over to the computer on her side of the desk. “How are you?”

“I’m good, thank you. And yourself?”

The old lady smiled, her eyes almost disappearing behind her high cheekbones. Her long white hair was fastened in a bun at the back of her head, the rest of her dressed in a pair of white trousers and a tunic with some bird print on it.

“I’m wonderful. What’s your name then, lovely?”

“Y/N McKay.”

“Ahh,” she said. “You’re the one who booked your stay last night.”

“That’s me, yeah,” Y/N chuckled, brushing some hair behind her ear.

“Till August 10th.”

“Yes.”

“Right then, Y/N,” the lady said, taking a key hanging from the wall beside her and taking her glasses off, smiling the entire time. “Let me show you to your room.”

The two walked up to the second floor, taking a right as they arrived and the inn-keeper unlocked the door. The innkeeper kept the door open for Y/N, letting her walk in first. Though the floor and ceiling were similar to the wooden panels of the lobby, the walls were white. Against the same wall that the door came to rest against stood an old blue dresser, and a fake flower in an elegant vase that seemed to be just one of the many flowers in the room. The double bed stood to the far left wall, white sheets covering it and looking so lush that it took everything in Y/N not to sprint over and throw herself onto it. There was a desk as well as a recliner, and a window on the opposite wall overlooking the ocean that was just about a minute’s walk from here.

“The bathroom is over there,” the innkeeper said, pointing at a door beside the staircase. “You share it with the other guests on the same floor as you, alright?”

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” Y/N admitted, genuinely meaning it as well. She didn’t see the problem with that in the least.

“I’m mostly downstairs or in the next house over, which is mine,” she continued. “So if there’s ever anything you think I could help you with, do pop by.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh, my goodness,” she suddenly exclaimed, walking over to Y/N. “I’ve completely forgotten to introduce myself. I’m Bessie.” Bessie smiled at Y/N again, making the latter almost want to cry for the umpteenth time that day. “And I really hope you enjoy your stay here in St Ives.”

With that, the innkeeper left Y/N to herself. Y/N let her bag and purse fall to the floor before she dragged the chair by the desk over to the window. She opened it and just stared out across the beach and sea outside. Seagulls were howling overhead, waves were crashing against shore, and the familiar salty scent of the presence of the ocean lingered in the air constantly. It was like one of those trips she’d taken with her parents every summer, a new place every year, always by the coast. Her favourite might’ve been their vacation in Bali. It was gorgeous beyond comprehension, in a way no other place she’d ever been could come close to. But she was aware she’d never go on another trip with her parents again. Not after everything that happened the night before.

Now she couldn’t rely on them any longer. She was on her own. She had no idea what she was going to do, no idea what lay ahead of her. As she at on the chair looking out over St Ives, the town she’d spend her summer in, she realised she’d never felt more forlorn.

St Ives is a coastal town located in the very south-west of the southernmost county in England, Cornwall. It is known for its surf beaches – most well-known being Porthmeor – and its many art galleries and restaurants. Tate St Ives is a gallery at the seafront and has rotating modern art exhibitions, focusing primarily on British artists. The Barbara Hepworth Museum and Sculpture Garden is located in the modernist artist’s former studio, displaying her bronzes and other works.Y/N, having grown up in a fairly posh family with exquisite and particular taste, knew a thing or two about art. 

She always had her purse on her, and in it she’d keep all the essentials for going out and about. Hand sanitiser, Kleenex, band-aids, pads, keys, a portable charger, and the book she was currently reading. The Well of Loneliness lay in her purse as she strolled around, a St Ives guide book in her hand that she’d bought at one of the local stores on what must’ve been their high street.

First and foremost, she wanted to do some sightseeing. She’d be here for a long time, so she might as well get acquainted with the town she’d stay in and learn its ins and outs. There is this part of St Ives called The Island, that isn’t at all an island, but it is just called that. The Island is the imposing headland that juts out into the seat from the spit of land that separates the harbour and Porthmeor beach – the most popular and most central beach in the town. In ancient times it was a promontory fort, but these days it’s probably better known as a location of the tiny chapel of St Nicholas. Walking to The Island, Y/N took in the incredible views of the ocean surrounding her, and the beach – The Townas - beside her that was cramped between The Island and Godrevy Point on the other side.

To her left was what looked to be Hellesveor Cliff, and at the very point of it, on the top of what must’ve been the most haunting cliff Y/N had ever seen, stood a lighthouse. Looking in her guide book, it didn’t say much about the lighthouse except the care of it had been passed down generation after generation by the family currently living there. It was at the very edge of St Ives, farther out than Godrevy Point. It made it so Porthmeor, St Ives, and The Townas were all guarded by these two points, the St Ives Lighthouse watching over its town and the far coast around.

Continuing on her walk, she strolled down the Down-a-long, which is the old, lower part of St Ives built on the narrow ridge of land that separated The Island to the rest of the town. This part of town is the archetypal image of St Ives with its jumble of cobble streets lined with whitewashed, old cottages, some seeming to fall apart and others in better condition. Y/N thought the street names were equally evocative and unique, some of her favourites being Salubrious Place, Teetotal Street, and The Digney. Though it said in her catalogue that fishermen used to live in the Down-a-long before, next to none lived there now as most of it was occupied by galleries, cafes, and little shows that one can shake a stick at. As she strolled through Fore Street, the main shopping street in St Ives, she walked by a vintage shop – Vintage Divine – and jotted it down on her phone.

All her life, Y/N had always loved everything vintage. She liked the thought of owning something that had once been part of someone else’s life, that had made them happy enough they wanted to hand it on and give someone else that same happiness they’d experienced. Though neither her mum, her dad, or her ex-boyfriend liked her obsession with vintage and stuff owned by others before her, their disinterest had never stopped her from going to markets or stores. However, she never bought anything unless she knew she could hide it. Now, she thought, that didn’t have to be a problem.

A few years back when she started to realise her obsession with old stuff, furniture, clothing, and books owned by others before her, she read an article online. The article had suggested that people are attracted to vintage pieces because they offer an escape. Wearing these garments, holding these ornaments, touching furniture from another time is a way to experience a different life. A life that isn’t your own and that was lived before hers or parallel to hers. Shopping vintage then created an exciting search for something special and creative, something a normal shopping trip could never give her. It was weird how much she was looking forward to going through that shop, Y/N realised, but she couldn’t wait to explore and take items home with her. Not that she expected she’d be welcomed home to Winchester anytime soon, but she chose not to think about that too much.

Fore Street was a narrow and cobblestone-clad street with people milling about trying to find a decent place for lunch. Stone cottages lined both sides of the street, either a neutral colour like white, a dull yellow, beige, light blue, or just plain, grey stone. Y/N enjoyed walking among these houses. It was a quiet town, peace seemed to be permanently settled between the cramped streets and tiny houses. Though Winchester wasn’t London with its tall buildings and never-ending bustle, St Ives was even smaller than her hometown, which made it that much more appealing to her. There was a sense of relaxation in the mere atmosphere around her that massaged the tension out of her shoulders and straightened her hunched back.

The door to the Seafood Café she was about to walk by burst open. A couple of people standing around jumped at the commotion, as did Y/N. Dressed in high-waisted loose fitted denim jeans, a white tee shirt tucked into them, a pair of orange worn down Vans, and brown curls in a dishevelled mess, the man who caused the ruckus didn’t seem to notice everyone’s attention being on him. He halted a bit as he came outside before he walked left. Y/N stopped moving, the sudden interruption in her peaceful stroll taking her off guard. The man suddenly started straight for Y/N, his head bent, eyes on the cobblestone before him. He didn’t seem to notice where he was going, not looking up in the direction he was heading. So, when he saw Y/N’s shadow, that’s when he glanced up. Their eyes met just a second before he managed to stop, preventing them from crashing into one another.

“Oh!” he erupted, voice crescendoing. He blinked twice, eyes settling on her for a few seconds before he said a quick, “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, I should’ve moved out of the way,” Y/N assured him, about to step to the side when she noticed his lips moving again. No words came out, though. She stood there for a few seconds, just watching his jaw and lips work, not seeming to find his words.

“Have a good day,” she went on, trying to step out of the way when the man blurted out, “Please, miss.”

She looked at him again, about to narrow her eyes when she saw a troubled expression on his face. His eyes were a little wide and he glanced over his shoulder before meeting her eyes again. The door to Seafood Café opened again, a woman and a younger girl stepping out.

“Please,” he repeated, voice low. “Go along.”

Y/N frowned. “Excuse me?”

“I’ll owe you my entire life if you just play along for a minute or two, yeah?”

She cocked her head some to the side. “I don’t know what you mean, sir. I should-“

“-I don’t usually do this- I mean, I never do, I’ve never done this before – ever -, but-but they think I have a girlfriend and I don’t. Please-“

“-Harry!”

The man – who Y/N could only assume to be Harry - turned around to face a tiny Filipina woman and an even smaller girl beside her, who looked to be no older than ten. The two looked Y/N over, eyes scanning her from head to toe. Y/N felt like she was under a magnifying glass.

But while they took her in, Y/N’s thoughts wandered to the words the man beside her had said only a few seconds earlier. “They think I have a girlfriend and I don’t.” Was he… was he saying what Y/N thought he was saying? She glanced at him, seeing him draw a shaky breath and meet her eyes, waiting for her to make the next move it seemed. Everything that had happened in the last minute confused her. She didn’t know this man, didn’t know what he’d told these two women or why. She was also well aware that by just walking away she wouldn’t need to worry about him any longer; his problems weren’t hers. This seemed messy, confusing, and a little risky.

Usually, she wouldn’t want any part of it. The Y/N she was yesterday wouldn’t have considered this. She would’ve looked at the man apologetically before excusing herself and walking off, leaving him to figure out whatever lie he’d told these two on his own. But Y/N had changed. Or… at least that’s what she wanted to believe… Fine, she wanted to change, and maybe this was a place to start.

Harry sighed, turning around to face the two he had tried to get away from, shoulders sinking as he met their eyes. The defeat was evident in his body language; he was about to give up and just tell them that he didn’t have a girlfriend. That’s what finally did it, seeing how it took absolutely everything out of him to tell them the following. “Jasmine, I’m sorry, I need to tell you-“

“-It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Y/N interrupted him, smiling as she stepped out from behind Harry. Though she had seriously considered helping him, it still surprised her when she actually heard the words coming out of her mouth. Her heart was beating about as fast as it had that morning when she’d left Hampshire.

Harry looked at her, mouth falling open, obviously shocked by her willingness to help him. It took him a few seconds to gather himself, but once he did, he looked back at the two they were trying to convince with a bright smile on his face.

“What did you have to tell me, Harry?” the older woman asked.

“That, uhh…” He looked at Y/N again before glancing at who she could only assume to be Jasmine. “Jessa, this is my girlfriend.”

Jasmine raised her eyebrows, eyes lighting up suddenly. The girl beside her stood there fidgeting with the hem of her top, looking Y/N up and down still.

“Hi,” Y/N said, stepping forward and reaching her hand out for Jasmine. “I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N,” Jasmine said, a smile coming to rest on her round face as they let go of the others’ hand. “Harry, you said her name was unusual.”

“That… I-“ Harry stopped himself.

Y/N’s lips parted, unsure how to react to that.

“That’s why you didn’t want to tell us her name, since it was so unusual. Y/N isn’t unusual.”

Y/N chuckled a little, looking at Harry whose whole face was a shade of red she’d never seen before. He glanced around him, meeting her gaze before quickly looking to the ground, scratching at his neck.

“You thought my name was weird?” She was well aware Harry hadn’t known her name until that point, let alone had any time to form an opinion on it. But regardless, she found it funny how he’d refused to give them his pretend girlfriend’s name by telling them it was an unusual one, as if they’d laugh at it.

“I didn’t-“ Harry sighed. “It wasn’t like I was embarrassed I just…” He trailed off, motioning with his hands, but Y/N had no idea what that meant. She didn’t take it to heart, though, knowing it had nothing to do with her and everything to do with his cover-up story.

“He has such a way with words,” Jasmine said, clicking her tongue at him. “Anyway, I’m Jasmine, but just call me Jessa. Harry’s stepmother.”

“And I’m Grace.” The little one stepped forward, grinning from ear to ear. The small one had the same roundness to her face as the woman beside her, as well as the same flat nose and almond shaped eyes like Jessa’s. “Harry’s kept you a secret.”

“Gracie, I haven’t kept her a secret as much as I’ve kept her away,” Harry said. “You’re gonna scare her.”

“We won’t scare her!” Jessa exclaimed. “It’s your girlfriend, Harry! We will be nice.”

“Somehow doubt that.” Harry turned to Y/N, turning his back to his step mum and what must be his half-sister. “They like to interrogate, especially Jasmine.”

“You villainise us,” Jessa said, walking closer to them and taking Y/N’s hand between hers. It took her off guard and she almost pulled her hand away, the feel of someone’s skin voluntarily touching hers felt weird.

“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” Harry continued, ignoring Jessa. There was an apology in his eyes that he didn’t voice. Or at least that’s what Y/N thought she saw anyway. “They’ll make it hard to enjoy yourself.”

Jessa reached over and pinched Harry’s exposed forearm. He flinched away from her, glaring as he stepped back a few paces.

“Now you’re being rude.”

“I don’t want you lot to make her uncomfortable with all your questions,” Harry said, a frown etched in his forehead. He hadn’t met Y/N’s eyes directly ever since they almost walked into one another. “Besides, she’s…” Harry’s eyes fell to the guide in Y/N’s hand. “She’s sightseeing.”

Y/N smiled at Jessa and Grace, showing them the small book she was carrying with her. “I’ve just been to the Island. The view from there is fantastic.”

“Harry, the view from the Island is nothing. Have you shown her yet?”

“Jessa, it’s… she’s just…”

Finally, he looked at her, not knowing what to say that would make his stepmother give it a rest. Y/N could understand why she asked so many questions, she was just eager to get to know someone who she thought was Harry’s new partner.

“I arrived this morning,” Y/N answered, smiling at Jasmine. “We haven’t had the time to meet up properly, so in the meantime I’ve just been walking around.”

“Where’s your luggage?”

“At the Inn. The Roaming Crab.”

Jessa’s eyes went wide, looking at Harry disapprovingly again. “She’s not even staying with you? What kind of boyfriend are you?”

“She could stay at our house,” Grace said, eyes on the space that separated Y/N and Harry before she met Y/N’s eyes.

“It’s not that… It’s not like that, I-“ Harry stopped himself, dragging his hand over his face that had been bright red ever since this whole spectacle started. “You’re blowing this out of proportion.”

“Am I?” Jessa crossed her arms.

“Yes… I-“ Harry stuttered and though Y/N hadn’t known this man for very long, she could tell he found it hard to find his words in stressful situations.

“We didn’t want to overwhelm each other. We haven’t stayed together for a long period of time before, this would be the first, so I’m staying at the Inn so we won’t get tired of each other too quickly.” Y/N hoped she sounded confident and truthful; she wouldn’t want to blow this for Harry already. After all, she had no idea how long he’d need this pretend girlfriend lie for.

A frown appeared between Jasmine’s brows and it dawned on Y/N that she must’ve said something wrong just now. Panic rose to her chest, but Harry cleared his throat.

“Except for that trip to Exeter last month, but that was only a single weekend. Now she’s here for…” He narrowed his eyes, as if the answer was at the tip of his tongue but Y/N knew she was the only one with an answer to that.

“August 12th,” she said, Jessa letting go of a small squeal at the sound of it. “Dunno how many weeks that’ll be, but I’m-“

“-That’s fantastic! You need to come to Gracie’s birthday next weekend.”

Harry stuttered a little, Jessa’s enthusiasm making him nervous, Y/N thought. “Nanay-“

“-She’s going to love that, won’t you, Gracie?”

Grace nodded her head, grinning up at Y/N. “You can put pretty stuff on my eyelids.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows some and Jessa laughed. “Eyeshadow.”

“Oh! Well, I don’t have loads of that since I’m no good with make-up, but I do have nice jewellery.” Y/N picked at the one she was wearing just then, a gold necklace she’d gotten for her birthday the year before.

Grace’s smile didn’t fade one bit at that. In fact, it only seemed to get a little bigger at the sight of Y/N’s pretty necklace. The girl didn’t say anything, but she swayed from side to side, looking excitedly up at her brother’s supposed new girlfriend.

“You’re coming then?” Jessa asked, looking so happy she might burst, and it hurt Y/N that she probably wouldn’t.

“Jessa, we have barely had time to catch up, let her breathe,” Harry pleaded and Jessa waved her hands at them.

“Sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overwhelm you, Y/N. It’s just…” Jasmine’s eyes fell on Harry standing beside Y/N, her eyes glistening. “It’s just so nice to know Harry’s not alone anymore.”

“I’ve never been alone, nanay.”

Jessa shook her head, sighing heavily. “Alright, we’ll leave you two lovebirds alone. You’ll probably want some time to yourselves to just walk around. Has she been to the lighthouse, Harry? Take her there.”

Harry sighed, scratching at the back of his neck. “Nay-“

“-Fine, we’ll leave. It was so nice to finally meet you, Y/N.”

“You too, Jessa. And you, Grace.”

Grace gave a wave before Jessa took her hand and the two walked away, probably on their way home or whatever other plans they had. Y/N watched them for a few before turning to Harry. His blush had calmed down a little, but a bead of sweat had appeared at his cupid’s bow. If it was because of nerves or the weather, she did not know, but she was not about to ask him that.

Upon closer inspection and now that they didn’t have Harry’s stepmum and sister watching over them, Y/N could finally study the man she rescued for a total of five minutes. Green eyes that reminded her of the moors she’d spend time running through each summer, a slight stubble along his soft jawline, nose a little too big for his face, and a slight dimple in each cheek even though he wasn’t smiling fully yet. She wondered what they’d look like if he actually grinned.

“Hi,” she said, reaching her hand out. “Y/N.”

Harry chuckled softly, taking her hand, eyes staying on the place they were touching each other. “Harry.”

“I’m glad I could be of some help, Harry.”

A crooked smile reached his lips as his eyes fell to the ground and he stepped away, letting his hand fall to hit his thigh. He glanced up at her. “Thank you for that. They say they’re worried, but they’re really just nosey.”

Y/N grimaced a little, making a breathy laugh escape Harry’s lips. “Is your life more interesting than theirs?”

“Not in the least. I lead the most boring existence in the most boring town in the United Kingdom.”

She chuckled, reaching for her necklace. “Not sure you can claim that title, my life’s pretty up there as well.”

Harry tried to shove his hands into the pockets of his jeans, but the arms of his denim jacket wrapped around his waist were in the way. “Oh?”

“Blimey, I won’t keep you if you’ve got things to do. You look like a busy man.”

Harry stared at the watch on his wrist and bit his bottom lip, looking up at her through his thick set of dark eyelashes. “Yeah, I gotta be on my way actually.”

She gave him a smile, getting one in return.

“Listen, thank you so much for that. I just needed to get them off my back. You don’t actually have to come to Gracie’s birthday party, Jessa just loves when she gets to interrogate people. Her favourite sport is discussing gossip.”

Y/N laughed. “You burn a lot of calories doing that.”

Harry chuckled, scratching at his neck as his eyes fell to her neck and then shoulder. “Anyway, I don’t know how to repay you. If you’re here till August, I guess I’ll see you around.”

For some reason, Harry not really knowing what to say was funny to Y/N. It wasn’t like he owed her anything or the other way around. She’d just helped him out and now they could part ways. Easy as that.

“You don’t have to repay me, I’m glad I could help,” she smiled. “I’ll try and stay out of your way if I see you out and about. You know, to avoid the awkward conversation of telling them we’re not actually together.”

Harry’s lips tipped upward. “Right, thanks.”

“Now, since I’m talking to you,” she said, opening the catalogue again. “Where’s the Tate Gallery?”

Harry turned around, pointing up Fore Street from where they stood. “When you reach Bunkers Hill, you follow that all the way up to Back Road, then you just walk along The Digney and it’ll be on your right-hand side.”

“Thank you so much.”

“No, thank you. I… It was too much-“

“-I’m serious when I say I’m glad I could help, don’t worry about it.” She shot him one last smile before giving him a wave. “Bye, Harry.”

“Bye,” he said, giving her a short nod before she focused her attention back on her surroundings. She needed to catch the street names and get her walk to the Tate on the first try because she could really not be asked to walk back and whip her phone out. After all, Harry just helped her so it was going to be easy to just follow his navigation and get there.

As she strolled along the gallery and the rest of St Ives that day, she couldn’t help but think about that little encounter earlier. She wondered what happened after that, if Jessa and Grace demanded more information from Harry or if he told them how it was all a lie. Putting it all aside, she focused on her trip instead. She’d never meet that family again, but she really hoped everything worked out for them regardless. The last thing she needed was for this summer to be about anything but her and what she really wanted in life. She didn’t need distractions. Her whole life up until now had been a distraction.

Friday, 12 June

Being in south England and not taking advantage of the amazing beaches this part of the country offered, was maybe on the same wrongdoing scale as committing a serious crime. Y/N had gotten dressed that morning and headed straight downstairs to eat breakfast in the tiny dining hall of the Inn. It was positioned in what must’ve originally been the living room in the house, four tables placed in there with two chairs placed by each of them. The dining room had the same layout as the entrance to the Inn; wooden panels all over, flowers and plants everywhere along with pictures and candles to top it off.

When she walked downstairs, Bessie was quick to jump up from where she was sitting in her small back garden, meeting Y/N with a warm beam on her face. When Bessie asked Y/N if she’d like a meat, vegetarian, or vegan full English, Y/N startled herself by replying vegetarian. She hadn’t grown up vegetarian, but in all her life, she’d never had a purely vegetarian meal. So, instead of correcting herself, she let Bessie make her that vegetarian breakfast. The thought of eating something she hadn’t before didn’t make her anxious as she thought it would’ve, but she was rather excited about the whole thing.

Bessie came out with the tray, setting it down before Y/N and asked her if she would mind Bessie’s company. With a quick reply encouraging the old lady to sit down, Bessie ran – or walked as fast as her short legs could take her – outside and returned with her knitting. Y/N had been alone pretty much all day the day before nd she had anticipated being alone all day today as well, so she rather enjoyed Bessie’s company. She had never really envisioned this to be part of her trip to Cornwall – an old lady with her grey hair put neatly in a bun with two knitting needles holding it up, wearing a long bohemian dress and glasses perched on the end of her nose, talking her ear off and Y/N having an immense amount of fun in the process.

The sea and seagulls sounded from inside the Inn, but as Y/N put her bathing suit and summer dress on, on her way down towards the beach, the costal sounds only intensified. The salt in the air clung to her skin and the smell of seaweed got more prominent the closer she got to the ocean. She put her stuff down and brought The Well of Loneliness out again, wanting to finish the book that day because she really wanted to know how it all ended. She wasn’t sure how much time went by as she laid there, completely captivated by the world Radclyffe Hall had created within the book.

It wasn’t that Y/N particularly enjoyed the book. No, it wasn’t that. It was endlessly long and detailed, for absolutely no purpose. The writing wasn’t particularly memorable; one wouldn’t remember it for its evocative and imaginative characteristics, nor for Hall’s ability to tell instead of show. Over the years she’d studied English in college, Y/N knew that a writer should be able to balance those two out; show some, tell some. But that concept was lost on Hall. No, Y/N didn’t like The Well of Loneliness for its writing, not even the plot.

She liked the book because of the plea embedded in it. The plea for LGBT people to be treated as human; that they were normal and not a disease. Why did they have to be other? They didn’t choose this life so why were they to be punished for it by being treated differently? By being illegal? The Well of Loneliness was published around the same time Orlando by Virginia Woolf, who was one of Y/N’s favourite authors ever. Though these two books touched on similar themes of identity, where Orlando shrouded the issue of mysticism, The Well dared to discuss sexual identity openly. Y/N commended Radclyffe Hall for that.

However much Y/N sympathised with Hall and the main character, Stephen, she couldn’t help but laugh at the hypocrisy in the book. While it attempted to strive for acceptance of one minority, it also emanated an underlying attitude of snobbishness and chauvinism towards other minorities at the same time, which made no sense to Y/N. Then again, it was the 1920s, so she guessed she couldn’t really ask for anything else from a rich white person at the time.

Having finally finished the book, Y/N asked someone nearby if they could watch her things while she took a dip. There was a blonde bloke around her age and another bloke with blue hair, sitting not too far off, and when she asked if they could keep an eye on her stuff, they promised they would.

Y/N took her time swimming, trying to remember the last time she’d been on a beach where the public were allowed. It was odd seeing so many around her, but she liked it. She liked the sound of others around her. Silence was good, but in the disturbance of human noise was the reassurance of rescue. The promise that you might be lonely, but you are never alone.

Walking back up to her picnic blanket, Y/N thanked the two men before lying back down, soaking up the sun. She hadn’t been aware she’d already been at the beach for a few hours until she realised her stomach was rumbling. So, packing her stuff together and making sure her hair was somewhat dry, she walked around to see if there were any places she could sit down. The only place on Porthminster Beach was the café with the same name, and by the looks of it, it was completely full. Since Bessie had served Y/N some breakfast, she must have something for lunch as well.

Walking back the 5 minute to the hotel, Bessie jumped up from her place in the back garden, sitting back there with two other ladies and knitting like they’d done the day before.

“Hello, dear, you had a good trip to the beach?”

Y/N couldn’t help but feel completely at ease in this old woman’s company. “Yes, I did. A bit hungry, though, do you have something I could eat, possibly?”

“Of course! What do you fancy?”

“Oh, a toastie’s fine.”

“Vegetarian?”

For some reason, the fact Bessie remembered Y/N’s preference from this morning made her smile. “Yes,” she said without thinking.

“Right, just sit down and I’ll come by with your lunch, my lovely.”

“Thank you so much, Bessie.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Y/N sat down, bringing her phone out as she hadn’t checked it properly in a few hours. She wasn’t sure what she expected, to be fair. There was no one from home who would want to contact her, and if they were to, they would rather look around Winchester than call. In their minds, she couldn’t have run far. Regardless, the mere fact they hadn’t even called her made something inside her sink a little. It felt awful knowing how little she meant to them all along. So little that they wouldn’t even pick up the phone and save her a call or a text.

“Here, my dear,” Bessie said, putting down a tray before Y/N. “I’m gonna pop outside to my little knitting club, if that’s fine by you. Just come on out if you don’t have anything else to do after this, yeah?”

“Thank you so much,” Y/N said and Bessie smiled at her before she disappeared outside again.

Turning her attention to her food, Y/N started thinking about what she could do the rest of the day. She could walk some more around town, she’d seen bigger parts of it yesterday, but there were always corners of a town that needed discovering. Once she was about halfway through her toastie, hasty footsteps sounded from the lobby and a somewhat familiar figure appeared. He stopped a bit on his way towards the reception desk, as if he didn’t want to be a bother to Bessie of some kind by asking for assistance. Bessie appeared a few seconds later, grinning from ear to ear as usual.

“Hello, Harry love.”

“Hi, Bess. I…” he stopped himself, running his hands up and down the sides of his white and grey striped cotton-blend trousers, a navy blue tee shirt tucked into it and a pair of white Vans on his feet. “I just wanted to come check again.”

“For the third time.”

“Yeah, well…” He did a quick shrug. “I just wanted to check.”

“She’s here.” Bessie gestured to Harry’s right and when he looked that way, his eyes immediately found Y/N’s. She didn’t think she’d ever see him again. However, a summer in a small coastal town would make that very hard. She’d try her hardest to stay out of Harry’s way, as well as his family’s, so she wouldn’t make things awkward. She would have escaped to a town a little further south or on the other side of Cornwall, but she was settled in now and she’d already paid for her whole stay.

Though she’d promised to keep away from him to prevent any unpleasant situations, Harry hadn’t made her the same promise. And here he was. For some reason. He seemed both taken off guard to see her sitting there as well as relieved he’d finally caught her. A sigh left him, slumping his tense shoulders a little before he thanked Bessie quickly and walked to Y/N.

“Is it,” he started as he made his way over. “Is it okay if I sit down?”

Y/N nodded her head while swallowing, gesturing with her hand at the chair opposite hers. “Yes, go ahead,” she said when her mouth was free to.

“Cheers.” Harry sat down, slid a little closer to the table and rested his hands between his legs as he leaned back against the back of the chair.

The two fell into silence for a little while, Y/N watching as Harry’s eyes fixed on the small bouquet of flowers in the tiny vase placed in the middle of the round table. Yes, she loved company, but Harry’s had taken her a little by surprise and she was eager to know why he’d come looking for her. She didn’t want to try and draw a conclusion herself without hearing his reasoning first, knowing that whatever she came up with wouldn’t be correct anyway. Instead, she put her toastie back on her plate and focused her attention on Harry, who had yet to say anything. From the way he was biting the inside of his lip, she assumed he was mulling over the right thing to say. It didn’t seem to ever come when finally, he opened his mouth.

“First, I just want to say sorry for yesterday,” he said, meeting her eyes, but quickly looking to her shoulder. “It was proper daft. I was desperate and I panicked, and you were right there.” He let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry for putting you in that position.”

Y/N just gave him a smile. “You don’t have to apologise, I’m glad I could help.”

“And I appreciate you helping me out, I really do, but… here’s the thing…” He cleared his throat. “Jessa and Gracie are right about losing their minds of this.”

Y/N chuckled. “Oh?”

“Yeah, they called and texted all last night and this morning, saying how nice it was to meet you, that I need to bring you to Grace’s birthday next Saturday,” Harry said. “And it makes me wonder if it was even worth it yesterday. I still appreciate what you did, and this is all my fault, but I think…” He trailed off again, scratching at the back of his neck. “Look, I’m doing a naff job of explaining this.”

Sipping her juice, Y/N just smiled at him till she put her glass down. “Take your time.”

He took a deep breath. “Think I might tell them it’s all fake. I don’t have a partner and that’s fine.”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah, being single is fine.”

“Only thing that’s stopping me is the fact that Jasmine will be crushed. Ever since my dad died, she’s been so worried about me living alone in the lighthouse.”

There was so much to unpack in that sentence that Y/N felt herself retract a little, scanning his face for what the appropriate reaction to that would be. Harry must’ve noticed her silence so he glanced at her face, eyes going wide.

“Oh! Don’t feel like you-“

“-I’m sorry about your dad.”

“No, that’s okay, he hasn’t been with us for two years now,” Harry went on. “That was a real mood killer. Bringing up my dead father with someone I barely know.”

Y/N smiled. “Think you fake breaking up with me was a great mood killer before that was even brought up.”

Harry smiled a little at that, those deep dimples just barely gracing his cheeks. “Sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry.” She wiped at her mouth with the napkin, brows slowly coming into a frown. “You said something about a lighthouse… do you live there?”

“In the lighthouse?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, I’m the lighthouse keeper.”

Her frown deepened a little.

“What?”

“I didn’t think those existed anymore.”

“What, lighthouses?” Harry’s smile widened, amusement tracing his pink lips.

“No, lighthouse keepers.”

He shrugged. “Here’s a living, breathing example of one.”

She couldn’t help her laughter. “Fine, I take it back. I don’t really think about lighthouses enough to give their keepers much of a thought either.”

“Too bad.”

Y/N just shook her head some, noticing a slight redness to Harry’s cheeks that hadn’t been there a few seconds earlier. “You were saying about Jessa.”

“She’s worried about me living alone in the lighthouse. Says I’ll be lonely and that she thinks about me sitting up there crying my eyes out or summat.”

“Do you? Cry your eyes out?”

“No, I like having my own space. I like living there alone. She’s just being a protective stepmum, looking out for me and all that. Like, yes, I’m still sad Dad is dead, but it wasn’t like he lived with me in the lighthouse anyway. He lived with Jasmine and Grace.”

Y/N nodded slowly. “She doesn’t want you to be alone ‘cause she thinks you don’t want to be.”

“Exactly,” Harry said, pausing a bit before mumbling something that sounded like, “That’s why I’ve told them for a few months now that I have a girlfriend.”

She narrowed her eyes some.

“To get them off my back, innit? I don’t want them to think I’m miserable, ‘cause I’m not. But when I told them I had a girlfriend, they got so happy, yeah? I just tried to be as vague as possible, didn’t give them a name and they didn’t ask, assuming I wanted to keep her secret. Jessa hasn’t bugged me about this in weeks… Until yesterday.”

Y/N started piecing everything together. “That’s why you stormed out of the restaurant.”

He nodded. “And ran into you.”

Y/N couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “The idea of just telling them I was your fake girlfriend just fell into your head once you saw me?”

Harry chuckled and shifted his gaze away from her, clearly embarrassed. “Yeah. I never do stuff like that. I hate uncertainty, so trusting you yesterday when I didn’t know if you’d play along… well, it took five years of my life.”

 She laughed. “If I hadn’t then the whole lie would’ve been obvious to Jessa and Grace.”

“Exactly.”

“Well, I’m glad I could help then,” Y/N said, really meaning it as well.

“Yeah, and thank you so much for doing so. It really helped me out… if you look away from Jasmine texting me five times today alone to organise a dinner with you and all of us.”

They both laughed a little at that and when Y/N glanced at Harry again, he was looking down at his hands in his lap. After a brief pause, he met her eyes again.

“I’m sorry for dragging you into this, and thank you for helping me. I’ll tell them everything now, I don’t want you to have to hide while you’re here for two months.”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

For the next few seconds, they looked at one another in silence. Y/N thought back to the moment she’d seen Harry, how it might’ve taken her a few seconds to catch on, but her main instinct had been to help him. She thought of the gratitude on Harry’s face when she played along, how she hoped he one day would find an actual girlfriend that would have just as big of an impact on Jessa and Grace as it seemed she herself had. She was about to tell Harry this when the sound of footsteps sounded from the lobby again.

A woman Bessie’s age walked in, a bag slung over her shoulder and sunglasses in her short black hair. As she stepped inside, she spotted Harry and Y/N sitting together and her mouth fell open, a grin coming to rest on her wrinkling face.

“Bessie, you didn’t tell me these two were going to be here,” the old woman said, walking into the dining area. Bessie stepped out from behind the wall that hid the reception desk from the dining hall. At that, Y/N’s stomach dropped. Bessie must’ve heard their entire conversation. By the look on Harry’s face, he was going through a similar near-death experience to the one Y/N was currently enduring.

“Hi, Mrs Rose,” Harry said, no one seemed to notice the slight tremor to his voice.

“Harry and his new girlfriend,” Mrs Rose said, looking between them. “You know, you lot are the talk of the town.”

“We are?” Harry asked, the surprise in his voice so evident it made the older women laugh.

“Yes, of course! Jasmine told everyone!” Mrs Rose continued, looking to Bessie who was already nodding her head.

“Not everyone, but she told her friends, and you know how people like to gossip around here, don’t you, Harry?” Bessie gave him a smile and Harry smiled back, though it did not reach his eyes. “Anyway, Florence, this is Y/N. Y/N, Florence.”

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Y/N said, grinning at Florence who stuck her hand out. The two shook hands as Florence beamed back at Y/N. “So, the whole town knows?”

“Wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case,” Florence said, turning to Bessie who made a noise of agreement. “Jessa can talk about everything and anything for hours, but if her stepson gets a girlfriend? That’s the news of the century and she will not shut up.”

“How lovely,” Y/N said, not really knowing what else was appropriate in this setting as Harry hadn’t opened his mouth once to say anything.

“It’s a little less lonesome up in that lighthouse now, hm?”

“Oh, uhm…” Harry looked at Y/N and then back at Florence, his words having completely escaped him. Y/N was about to come to Harry’s rescue when Bessie took them both by surprise.

“They stayed here tonight,” Bessie explained and Florence looked at her with a furrow between her brows.

“Why on earth would they do that? Harry’s got a perfectly nice place by the lighthouse.”

“Who are we to question the decisions of our youth?” Bessie linked arms with Florence. “Let’s go outside, Flo dear. Leave the lovebirds to be by themselves.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs Rose,” Y/N called after them.

“And you, Y/N!”

The second the two ladies were out of sight, Harry and Y/N shared a wide-eyed look, both of their panic equal it seemed. Y/N took a sip of her juice, somehow thinking it would calm her down. It did not.

“Jasmine told everyone,” Harry said, voice a whisper so no one walking by or sitting in the back garden would hear them. “She told everyone.”

“She can’t have… right?”

“You underestimate Jessa. If she was kidnapped and put in a gag, she’d be able to talk through it and move her jaw and teeth in a way that would obliterate said gag.” Harry ran a hand over his face. “She’s very chatty.”

“You’ve painted a vivid picture.”

Harry sighed, leg bouncing and eyes distant as he seemed to be racking his brain for a solution to the situation they were finding themselves in. “I was gonna tell Jessa it was a lie. I was gonna tell-“

“-You still can.”

“But everyone knows now. It’ll be well embarrassing for us when we have to tell people on the street that ‘oh yeah, that ol’ thing, we only pretended to be a couple so people wouldn’t be all up in Harry’s business,’ I somehow don’t see that going down well.”

“Then there’s only one thing we can do?”

“What’s that?”

“We pretend to be a couple.”

He stared at her, his facial expression very neutral, and though Y/N didn’t know him well enough yet, she did think she could decipher when he was displeased and when he was not. He seemed to be mulling it over, wanting for her to elaborate before he made a final decision.

“Everyone knows, I’m leaving in August, we can just say we broke up when August comes around.”

Harry nodded, thinking for a moment before he asked, “What will people say when they see us separated on the street then? Like, we’re not seen together.”

“People need to spend some time apart; it’s exhausting to be around another person 24/7.”

Harry nodded again, contemplating their predicament. “There’s always a lot of parties around here during summer. You don’t have to tag along, but you might have to if Jessa’s gonna be there.”

“I don’t mind,” Y/N admitted, shrugging her shoulders some. “I don’t have anything to do all summer, anyway. Might as well be in a fake relationship with a bloke I barely know and help him all I can.”

This made a breathy chuckle leave Harry’s lips and he held her gaze some before having it fall to his folded hands. “Well…” he said, suddenly reaching his hand across the table. “I’m Harry Edward Styles.”

Y/N laughed but took Harry’s hand, shaking it lightly. “Pleased to meet you, Harry. I’m Y/N Bernadette Angelica McKay.”

Harry whistled under his breath. “Mouthful.”

“What happens when you’re brought up in a posh family.”

Harry smiled at that and sat back in his chair. “I guess… I-I guess we should talk about how we got together and all that.”

“Yeah, make a story so it sounds more believable.”

“It’ll help if we have the same story, yes.”

She couldn’t help her laughter again, but it was cut short as Harry’s phone in his pocket started ringing. He sighed, taking it out and looking at it before putting it back down.

“Look, I gotta go.”

“Oh.” Y/N, having thought they were going to plan their fake dating history, blinked in confusion when Harry stood from his chair and looked at her apologetically. “We’ll see each other at some point.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, walking off toward the back garden, calling Bessie’s name as he did. They exchanged some words Y/N couldn’t hear and Harry disappeared into the kitchen for a minute before resurfacing again. Standing in the lobby, he looked at Y/N through the doorway leading into the dining area, mouth opening and closing as he tried to come up with something to say.

She just gave him a smile, hoping he understood that she just wanted him to take his time. It took one more sigh and a little staring contest before Harry finally found his words.

“You know where to find me, my house is the very tall, pointy one on the outskirts of town.”

She chuckled, watching as he walked out of the front door and down the street. Y/N found her bag, putting it on her shoulder as she got her lunch tray and sat it in the kitchen as she’d done after her breakfast that morning. On her way upstairs, Y/N turned as she reached the front door that was left open to welcome guests. Stepping into the doorway, she looked out over St Ives.

Seagulls were still screaming overhead, the sound of people down by the beach hung in the air all throughout the day, it smelled of seafood and summer, and just beyond the small town, on a tiny hilltop and on the very tip of a cliff, stood a lighthouse. A white lighthouse that rose high above the whole coast around it, protecting everyone. Locals, foreigners, and sailors. And it was operated and taken care of by the bloke Y/N was going to spend her entire summer in a fake relationship with. It didn’t seem real, and yet, that was exactly what it was. She didn’t have Harry’s number and knew next to nothing about him, but – as he put it – he lived in the very tall, pointy house on the outskirts of town. It was impossible to miss it. She could find her way to him, even in the dark.

The lighthouse keeper, Y/N thought to herself as she took in the lighthouse again through the window of her room once she walked upstairs. I have to pretend to be in love with a lighthouse keeper. And somehow, Y/N realised when looking back on that particular summer, that wasn’t the weirdest thing that would happen to her in St Ives.

NEXT UPDATE: Sunday, 2 August, 9PM GMT!

Huge thanks to my AMAZING beta readers! 🌊 @aileenacoustic​ 🌊 @bopbopstyles​ 🌊 @fromyourstrulyh​ 🌊 @harrys-creature 🌊 @honeydearly 🌊 @juliassgem​ 🌊 @summerfeelng​ 🌊 @sunflower--styles 🌊 @withallthelove-a​ 🌊

[peeterparkr]

perfidy;tom holland|7

chapter 7: the dialogue

enemies to lovers au/enemies with benefits

chapter summary: the name of the game

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings:  swearing, angst, fluff, smut (oral f receiving) (skip the * if you don’t wanna read) , ROLLERCOASTER, didn’t proof read

word count: 7.8k BUT IT’S A LIGHT CHAPTER I SWEAR

here’s a playlist 

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PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK.

You won. That’s what you liked to think. 

One kiss wouldn’t hurt anybody. That was the only thing that had happened, a simple sweet kiss. And it had felt different, it hadn’t been barely a kiss. You’d been the one to lean over, but he’d closed the gap. And it’d felt like a summer breeze, early june, and it tasted like the remaining tea he’d just had. Bittersweet. 

Kissing never hurt anybody. But it had you thinking. 

And he’d tried to lean over again, but you’d stopped him. 

“You finish your lunch and I’ll go take some air, you have an hour to rest,” you said quickly getting off his grip. “Then I’m gonna need you back on set and—“

He chuckled. “Y/N, c’mon we’ve got time,” he assured you, as he walked over to you. 

“You can take care of that by yourself, I’m going to….” you snapped as you stood up, you rushed to your purse and took out your red lipstick, you’d always carry it around. The lipstick was your weapon, it was something that gave you certain protection. Red lipstick gave you a certain sense of being in control, and you perfectly knew you were far from controlling this situation.  

He coughed. “y/n.” 

You watched him, “Thomas.” 

“Are you angry I’m winning?” 

You rolled your eyes. “Winning? Is this a competition now?” 

“It can be,” Tom laughed. “Dunno, it reminds me of ‘don’t cry’” 

“But ‘don’t cry’ was about pissing each other off,” you pointed out. Don’t cry. A game you hadnt played for a while. It was yours and Tom’s game, if you ever dared to call such a toxic thing a game. 

“I know this whole thing pisses you off, and I love pissing you off.” 

You rolled your eyes. “And does it piss you off?” 

“Yes, it pisses me off that I can’t keep my hands to myself because of you, out of everyone, it’s Y/N.” 

You crossed your arms and smirked. “Huh, this is… Seems like I’m winning this situation? Are you crying, Holland? I’m winning this game.”  

Tom rolled his eyes. “You’re not.” 

“The way I see this, Tommy, you’re kind of begging me…”

“I’m just trying to help you out, love,  I made you forget about your ex, didn’t I?” 

He had. That’s exactly why you were trying to run away from. You weren’t down to being played. 

“I… what does that have to do with anything?” You frowned. 

“Dunno, maybe if I keep your mind thinking of me, then you’ll focus more on your job.” He walked over to you, placing his hands on your hips. He stared down at your lips and then at your eyes. He leaned over to you and kissed your neck, two times he touched your neck and only once you blinked. 

“My job?” You cleared your throat. He pushed you against the wall, knowing exactly what he was doing to you. 

“Yes, you know you’re my assistant,” he continued his path from your neck to your ear. 

“I’m a hundred per cent sure this didn’t come in the job description or did you do this with your last assistants?” You smirked. “Haz.. and Harry? Your brother? That’s so disgusting, Thomas, even coming from you.” 

He quickly pulled back from you. “You’re an idiot.” 

“Am I, really?” you grinned. This was great, you’d taken the control back of this situation. “But you know I’m right. This is unprofessional. Were you unprofessional with any of your past assistants?  

And god, you hated him. Because you wanted to kiss him again, but you wanted him to be the one to lose. Not you, definitely not you. 

“No. No,” he cleared his throat. “You’re right, unprofessional.” 

“Glad you agree,” you smirked as you finally pushed him away from you. That didn’t stop you from kissing his cheek, staining it with a plump of red lips. “You better wipe that off before you come back to set,” you warned him. “I’m sorry you lost this one.” 

“You’re wrong about that, darling, I always win.” 

But he pulled you back to him, lips firmly pressed against your mouth, you felt your whole body initially tense up but then relax as you let your head fall into his bliss.  It didn’t go any further than that, only kissing. And it had been… different. The way he’d held your head, and the way his fingers travelled down your arm. His lips so soft, and the way he’d smiled after it. 

“And I’ll keep on winning. Don’t cry, y/n.” 

After that, you ignored the professionalism you had prided yourself you’d had, but one can only ignore something as sweet and pretend it didn’t happen for so long. 

You didn’t want to waste any more kissing because honestly, he was driving you crazy. It was just a little perspective. 

Cruising through the set, changing his schedules and trying to find places where nobody could see you. And so a game started, a game which was so thriving to play. Risky, but fun. So fun. The next few days had consisted of brushing, pinning and teasing. Fingers walking down his shoulders when he was on makeup, helping him adjust his clothes if he was nearby. Him, placing his hand on your waist as he was walking past you, and moving it just slightly down, licking lips and whispering in his ear. At very inconvenient times, like before he was just going to shoot a scene, you’d walk over and go: ‘Your zip is down, don’t cry.’ and zip it up, or when he’d brush against you, or walk his fingers up your thighs. 

Don’t cry, the game of your nightmares. A very toxic game which consisted of Tom and you getting on each other's nerves, pulling each other’s hair, saying something mean but ending it with “Don’t cry.” Which basically meant: “I don’t mean this, but if you cry you’ll have to do whatever I tell you.” 

Those dares included eating mustard which you hated, getting into the shower fully clothed, drinking a salty glass of milk, or whatever you came up with. Eventually you stopped playing so you wondered where this particular game would go. 

You guessed it was embarrassing enough teasing each other and trying to remain calm. It’d, so far, only gotten both of you to make out in his trailer. Twice. You didn’t even know why that had happened. How it had let there with him pushing you against the wall and slipping his tongue in. 

But you continued that game where you both pretended to hate each other, but it seemed different this time. Less real, at least. More… flirty, if you could think of it. But more firstly. 

But Tom was getting on your nerves, because he’d up the game, and he’d find ways to sneak a kiss. ‘Don’t cry’.  He’d try to be careful, nobody could know about this. But he’d sneak a kiss if he could, like when you were on your way to the makeup trailer, or when you were picking up your lunch. And you couldn’t react to it, or else you’d lose. 

But he’d get particularly more… teasing, especially when you were around Timothée. That was hard. Because you couldn’t react in any way, you were not supposed to be aware. 

And it kept going. 

Two weeks had gone by. And the game had only stepped up. 

Harry would be leaving in two days, and you hadn’t seen him. Your mind had barely thought about your last conversation with him, was he really going to propose? But you knew you had to be careful around whatever you said because you didn’t want to hurt him. 

The thought was roaming your mind when you were having lunch with Timothée, talking about life and other stuff, the props, the cameras. But Tom had decided to sit right beside him and not so subtly decided to play footsie. Very stupid, really. 

“Hey, y/n dear, oh, hello, Timmo...y/n dear, I need help with some crying.Will you help me out later?” 

You coughed. 

Timothée would usually only stare at him. You knew he was probably jealous, Tim had always been very reluctant when it came to Tom. You didn’t blame him. You couldn’t blame him. Less now. 

“Some crying?” Tim asked. 

“For the scene, lover boy,” Tom chuckled. “And you might be aware of this but your… girl…. Your friend here really hates me.” 

“And I can make you cry?” You questioned. “How lovely, would love to see you cry,” you answered as you kicked him. 

Tom cleared his throat. 

Timmy frowned but chuckled. “I will never understand how you guys hate each other that much,” he mentioned with poison. “I mean, you grew up together, you must have some good memories.” 

“You’re answering your own question, we know each other so well that we hate each other, you would too if you’d grown up with her,” Tom laughed. 

“Yeah, you’d need a lifetime to hate me, but somehow you only need five seconds to hate Tom,” you snapped back. 

Tim grinned as he let out a poisonous laugh. 

“Hm, you agree?” Tom raised his brows at Tim. 

Tim chuckled. “I’m sorry, I was dating her so I naturally had to hate you, that’s how couples work, if one hates someone the other one should, too.” 

Tom grinned. “Right., but you’re not dating anymore, why should you hate me, now?” 

Tim didn’t say anything, and you just glared at Tom. 

“Anyway I should go back to my friends, shouldn’t I?” Tom chuckled as he then proceeded to walk over to the other members of the cast. 

You watched him walk away. You rolled your eyes, and looked at Tim. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Tim chuckled. “It’s fine, really, but I’m not telling him the reasons I hate him for now,” Tim admitted. 

“You’ve got new reasons?” 

“In a way, yes,” Tim shrugged. “But can’t really be mad at him, I mean thanks to him I get to hang out with you again,” he admitted. “And I get to see your smile, even if I’m not the reason for it right now.” 

You felt a stab into your heart. “You still make me smile, Timmy.” 

He smiled, slightly. “I know, but it’s not my job anymore,” he shrugged. “There’s a vacancy for that job though, can I apply again?” 

You grinned, chuckling slightly. “There’s no vacancy open right now, I’m afraid” 

Timothée scoffed as he clenched his jaw. “Tom already filled it up?” 

“No, no, remember he's the CEO of being my mortal enemy,” you cleared your throat. 

He stayed quiet as he watched you, then dedicated a glance towards Tom who was not so subtly staring at you. 

“He’s in love with you, y/n,” Tim said. 

You rolled your eyes. “If he was, everything would be easier, he’d be nice.” 

He shrugged. “I’m not blaming him, y/n, but I see it, you know? It’s easy to know when somebody else is in love with the girl you love, it’s in the eyes.” 

“The eyes chico, they never lie,” you quoted making him grin. “And his eyes… only have hatred. So you’re wrong about Tom, don’t worry there’s only hate there. Now, I need to get that idiot back where he’s supposed to be, I swear he never knows anything.” You stood up as you picked up your stuff. 

“What about Harry?” Timothée asked. “Was I wrong about him too? 

You only glanced at Timothée, and then walked away. 

-

“So tomorrow’s Harry’s goodbye congratulations party dinner thing,” Tom mentioned as you were handing him a bottle of water as they’d paused a scene. 

“I’m aware,” you answered coldly. 

“Are you gonna bring anything?” He asked, watching you. 

“Dunno,” you shrugged as you called the makeup artist so they could retouch him, while you helped him button up his shirt again. 

“Y/N,” Tom sighed, as the makeup artist was brushing him up. 

“What?” You frowned.

“You’ve ignored me all day long,” he complained. You had, as a matter of fact. You couldn’t stand him, even when he’d tried to keep up with the game. You hadn’t shown any type of response, you hadn’t talked to him if you didn’t need to. You didn’t smile, you didn’t even look at him. 

“Get back to the scene,” you told him as you walked away. 

Eventually, the director gave up for that day and said they’d continue in two days, something wasn’t going well with the scene, they kept pausing and pausing. Tom would forget his lines, or he wouldn’t give in the emotion, something was off, you could tell. The chemistry with the actress or whatever, it was off. Everybody could tell. 

“What’s up? You’re really messing up,” you told him as he approached you. “Maybe you need to rest, you have all day tomorrow to rest.” You’d finally have a free day, a well deserved free day. 

He ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know, I just… Have my mind elsewhere, alright?” 

“Where?” You asked as you were walking away from him, already pulling out your earphones, not wanting to listen to him as you were walking to your car. You finally had it back.

“Don’t know,” he shrugged. “I.. maybe help me run the lines, tonight, I… I need to see how this goes.” 

You turned to him. “You were a real asshole today,” you mentioned. 

“What?” Tom blinked. 

“You don’t get to joke about my last relationship, alright? You crossed the line,” you snapped, you had to get it off your chest. “And you can’t joke about it in front of Tim and I, it’s not your place.” 

“Is that why you’ve been ignoring me?” 

You plugged your earphones in. Tom stopped you. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know and I was not trying to… make fun…”Tom trailed off. 

You crossed your arms. “What were you trying then?”

“I dunno, let him understand that you’re not dating, he sometimes act as if you were—“

“Habits that didn’t wear out,” you shrugged. “Besides that’s not your business, Tom.” 

Tom gulped. “are you trying to get back with him?”

“Why do you care?” You sighed. 

“Are you? ” Tom asked. 

“No, I’m not,” you looked away. “And he knows that, we are friends, alright?”

“He knows?” 

“Yes, we are not trying to get back together, I…” You took a deep breath. Less now, of course, that you were trying to do whatever you were trying to do with Tom, and playing whatever game with him. Of course you didn’t want to get back to Timothée, or maybe you did, but you couldn’t play with him right now. You couldn’t play with his heart, especially because Tim was more aware of your feelings than even yourself. “He knows me too well,” you said out loud. “But that’s not the point, you shouldn’t have said that.” 

Tom shrugged. “He said he hated me.” 

“Well, who wouldn’t? With that damned attitude you’ve been pulling, and flirting in front of him, god Tom, you’re so full of yourself, I can’t believe this,” You snapped. “I… I can’t stand you, of course he would hate you. And why do you even care if he hates you?” 

Tom looked away. “Don’t know. Because.”

You rolled your eyes. “Why did you tell him that?” 

“Because you’re not dating anymore, I just pointed out he’s allowed to hate me for other reasons. Like a reason should be I keep making out with his ex,” Tom growled. 

“Ah, piss off, Tom, you’re… You won, okay?” you frowned, as you walked away, finally reaching your car.  

“No, no, wait,” Tom sighed as he ran after you. “Y/N…Please.”

“What?”

“You’re coming tomorrow, right?” 

“Yes, because of Harry,” You cleared your throat, and then took a deep breath. You couldn’t keep fighting with Tom, even if it hurt you, even if right now all you wanted to do was kick him, you had to write a script. “I...was gonna bake him cookies.”

“What?”

“For Harry. My way of saying goodbye. I think it’s literally my only talent, and I know Harry likes cookies.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah, or do you want me to bring in anything else?” You asked. 

“No, no, no, just… come, it’d kill Harry if you don’t,” he commented. 

You opened the door to your car. 

“And it’d bum me more if I knew it was my fault,” he added as you turned around. 

“Look… I…” You really hated yourself more than him for what you were going to do next. “I was gonna open a wine bottle and bake the cookies.” 

Tom chuckled. “Hm, is that an invitation?” 

“No, you know what? Never mind,” you rolled your eyes as you hopped into the car. He stopped you from closing the door. 

“What if I make it up to you?” He suggested. 

“Hm?” 

“What if I cook something for you and we open a bottle of wine and bake the cookies?” He cleared his throat. 

It was time for you to chuckle. “See you in hell, Tom.” 

”Oh, is that a date? Are you asking me out?” He smirked. 

You rolled your eyes. 

He grinned. “C’mon we need to relax a little, and we haven’t really bonded, and we could go over the lines,” he insisted. 

You clicked your tongue. “I would say we’ve bonded a little bit more than required,” you rolled your eyes. “And I don’t want to bond that way.” 

He laughed. “Oh c’mon you know what I mean.” 

“Heard the cast was going to hang out, why don’t you tag along with them?”

“I wanna hang out with you, y/n, besides you were the first to hint at it,” he grinned. “C’mon, I’ll cook something nice.” 

You looked him in his chocolate eyes, you really wanted to say no. All you wanted to do that night was cry until you fell asleep after you ate a whole pint of ice cream or ordered a cheesy pizza. That was what you wanted to do, because Timothée had opened up a wound that you hadn’t touched in a while, and because you knew this was wrong, completely wrong. You shouldn’t be caring about this, you shouldn’t let Tom play you this way. 

“I… sure, fine.” 

“Okay, so I’ll… buy the ingredients and I’ll see you at your place?” He asked. 

“Alright.”

-

Tom had finished setting up for whatever he was going to cook. You were currently opening the bottle of the first wine bottle, pouring each a glass. You handed him his own glass and he grinned before clicking them together. 

“I love your apartment,” he pointed out. “We could film here, it’s got the total aesthetic, 80’s like apartment with flowers and vinyls and…You really got it all, don’t you?” 

“Really? I… Don’t know.” 

“It’s pretty and clean,” he chuckled. “So… tonight uh, we’re having pasta with chicken, because as long as I recall, you were a fan of it when we were children,” he announced. 

You sipped from your wine as you were pulling out the ingredients for the cookies. “Ah yes, big fan,” you chuckled. “Just don’t make a mess… So, I’m going to…” You took out your speakers as you were scrolling through a decent playlist to which he wouldn’t complain. 

“Wait, mind if we listen to my music?” He asked. 

You stared at him. “I—okay.” 

“Don’t worry I made a playlist thinking of you, all old music, rolling stones kind of thing, and Harry Styles because for a reason I know you’re obsessed with him” he pointed out as he connected his phone. 

You blinked, watching him as he started to play the first song. ‘Start Me Up’, a classic by The Rolling Stones. 

You grinned, “Thanks.” You danced slightly listening to it. “That’s abnormally nice coming from you.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Dunno, it seems nicer than usual,” you chuckled.

“I’ll punch you in the face if that’s what you want,” he joked as he dedicated a smirk to you. 

You laughed, and you knew this was risky. Whenever Tom was pulling this kind of stuff it meant risk, and it meant trouble and it meant he was probably trying to hurt you. But you couldn’t help but dance and laugh with him, you even were leaning against him at some point, he’d given you some of the sauce to try and you’d given him cookie dough. 

It was fun, and it was nice, even. You were joking around stupid things about your childhood, and then talking about silly stuff on set or barely anything. Maybe it was the wine but you hadn’t fought about anything. Or not… in a real way, you’d thrown some flour at him playfully, and he’d nudged you. At some point he’d accidentally spilled wine on his t-shirt and he found it as an excuse to stay shirtless. Of course you’d offered him a t-shirt but he’d said he didn’t want to wear a t-shirt that had probably belonged to Timothée. Honestly you hadn’t complained. 

And the second bottle of wine was opened just before you’d placed the cookies in the oven. 

“I know for a fact, that your favorite movie is probably Pulp Fiction or something any other film a film student would say,” Tom said as he was plating the pasta. 

“It’s not.” You laughed. 

“What is it? The Godfather? Fight club?” 

“No.” 

“What?” He seemed in such a state of shock as he stared at you. “Oh okay… 80’s more type of movies right?” 

You scrunch your nose, as you set the table. “Well.” 

“The breakfast club?”

“No, it’s actually Princess Diaries 2,” you corrected him as you sipped your wine, you could tell you were happier. 

“Wait, what?” He chuckled. “I do remember you were obsessed with that movie but—wouldn’t expect it to be your favourite.” 

“It’s amazing!” You declared. “It’s got Anne Hathaway, Julie Andrews. References to Pretty Woman… it’s perfect! And it’s got Chris Pine, and I mean… The whole enemies to lovers trope.” 

“Enemies to lovers huh,” he laughed. “But what about the cinematography? I thought you were pretentious.” 

You frowned. “Pretentious?” 

He squeezed his eyes shut. “Yeah, I dunno. I once heard you drunkenly rant about Birdman for 30 minutes,” he pointed out. 

“Oh who wouldn't.” 

“I just…” He laughed as he sat across you. “Well, enjoy, I hope I’m not that bad of a cook.” 

“Cheers, then, to hating each other,” you laughed as you raised your glass. 

“To being enemies,” he added before he clicked the glasses together. 

You both started eating and you actually did compliment him on his cooking. He wasn’t a chef but it was nice. At some point, cliche enough, you’d both reach for the cheese, brushing each others hand.

“Don’t you think it’s amazing that we’ve known each other for so long yet we are strangers?” You asked as you tilted your glass just slightly. 

“We are not strangers,” he frowned. 

“What’s my favourite color?” You questioned. 

“I actually know this one,” he snickered. “Uh… it was whatever colour the sky is, either sunset orange, or breakdown pink… that lilac dawn,” he listed. 

You blinked. “I… well.”

“Am I wrong?”He smirked as you watched him. “You’ve always been so poetic, y/n. So it’s that... the colour of the sky and... yellow in flowers, they make you happy.” He cleared his throat. 

You looked away. “Used to make me happy, now they’re just…. But um,” you sipped your wine instead. “Well, yours is blue, but black for clothes.” 

“I’m simple.” 

Honestly, you didn’t understand what was going on, it seemed irrational, and the whole night didn’t make any sense, talking about nonsense, movies, random things. But then, you were laughing on your couch just after taking out the cookies from the oven. You’d ate a few of the cookies as you had your legs on top of him. 

“Alright, but that scene in Risky Business,” you laughed, drunkenly. “Like, it’s one of the best things that ever happened.” 

“You're only saying that because you have a crush on Tom Cruise,” he laughed, as he searched for his phone. “Let’s watch it.”

He searched it up on YouTube and you leaned against his shoulder to watch it. You mouthed and moved your shoulders to the song. 

“I should try and recreate it,” he pointed out. 

You both stayed quiet but then actually looked at each other. A smirk appeared on both of you. 

 “Do you have… do you hic, have like an old shirt? One of yours, the big ones you like to use?” He asked. 

You rushed to your room as you searched for an old big dress shirt that could fit him, and then gave it to him. “We’re doing this.” 

And without further ado, he stripped into his boxers and somehow managed to put on your shirt. He laughed. 

“I need more wine before I do this, I look ridiculous,” he admitted as he downed his glass. “Alright, what’s… what’s the song?” 

“Old Time Rock and Roll, Bob Seger,” you told him as you searched for it, giggling. 

“Tom laughed. “Wait wait, okay,” he couldn’t stop laughing. “But you’re doing this after me.” 

“No,” you laughed. “Now, go on.” 

“We need… we need to record this,” he picked up his phone, as he pointed the camera at you. “Y/N here dared me to-” 

“I didn’t dare you,” you laughed. “You wanted to do this on your own.” 

“Fine, alright,” he laughed. “Um.. we will try and recreate-” 

“We?” You interrupted. 

“Sh, y/n shh… I’m… I’m gonna try and recreate the Risky Business scene,” he continued. “Now, okay, I’m going to…” He laughed to himself. “I can’t believe I’m actually doing this, alright, alright I’m going to...Play the music, darling, will you?” 

And the first notes hit in, and he rushed as he tried to slide in, failing as he only slid his way down to the floor, face falling flat. You couldn’t help but burst out in laughter, as Tom groaned on the floor. The song kept playing. 

“Are you…” You couldn’t stop your laughter. “Are you okay?” 

“Yes,” he sat up. “Alright, yes, yes I’m okay, man I shouldn’t be doing this… If I get hurt and I’m not able to film…” 

You giggled. “C’mon, you’ll be fine.” 

“Alright… You’re still recording?” 

“Of course.” 

He chuckled. “Your floor is too slippery…” he stood up and then sighed. “Attempt number two.”

“Okay….” You tried to hold your giggles as you replayed the song. And he slid again but now he slid too far and couldn’t stop. “You suck, Holland.” 

“Shut up, y/l/n,” he chuckled. “No wait, I think… I know how to do it.” 

“Another one?” You frowned. 

“Yes, yes,” he laughed. “Man, your shirt feels tight,” he mentioned as he then proceeded to get back. “Okay, okay, I’m ready… wait I need… this,” he picked up a long and thin flower pot. “The mic.” 

You grinned. “Good, now…” you laughed as you replayed the song. 

But he finally slid like he was supposed to, and when the note hit he started to dance, you laughed throwing your head back as he tried to do his best impression of Tom Cruise. 

He smirked as he danced his way towards you, moving his hips and over exaggerating his movements, you rolled your eyes as you watched him, still recording him. He jumped to his spot right beside you, laying his head on you, the way he looked into you made your stomach stagger you with butterflies. You had to ignore this, this was only the wine. 

“So?” You swore he was about to kiss you, as he was leaning over, you pushed his face away. 

“I could do it better,” you claimed and he laughed. 

“No you couldn’t.” He frowned. 

“Yes, give me my shirt back,” you demanded as you tipsily stood up. 

He grinned, “that’s a weird way to ask for a strip tease,” he sassed. 

You rolled your eyes. “Put your shirt back on and give me my clothes I’m going to…” you couldn’t stop giggling as he had already stripped down and pulled you back To the couch, you pushed him away . “Thomas, put your pants back on, never mind I’ll go get another one.” 

He chuckled. “Why? Don’t cry, y/n.” 

“I am going to recreate that scene in risky business too, I can do it better…” you said as you downed your glass before rushing for a mother dress shirt. 

“Y/n, love you’re too drunk, you can’t handle your wine,” he joked, already back with your shirt on, but then cleared his throat as he watched you take off your clothes, and button up your dress shirt. “I’ll stop complaining.” 

“Sh, start playing the music,” you stumbled a little bit. 

“Y/n.” His drunken giggles were music to your ears. 

You laughed. “Wait, sh, you had your turn, now it’s mine alright? I need to… get in the mood.” 

“The mood?

“Tom Cruise mood, k?” You stretched as you tried to slide, practicing, almost falling down. 

“Y/N be careful,” he warned. 

“Play the music!” You ordered as you slid down but went too far. You stumbled down again, cackling up. 

He laughed, “wait wait wait, no no,” he walked over, helping you up. “Okay, no, you’re worse than me,” he placed his hands on your hips. “Look, you’ve got to push this hip—“

“You literally just failed before me,” you complained. But he placed a kiss behind your ear. 

“Sh, I’m trying to show you,” he whispered. “So you’re gonna move the hip forward and up,”he motioned as he moved your hip. “and then slide, okay?” 

You rolled your eyes. “Can I do it now?”

“Can you, love?” He mocked. 

And then you were sliding, again and again, failing until you finally got it right and danced along. To that old song, the piano notes going over and over. 

But then somehow, you were both sliding together, dancing to the song. And Tom came up with a brilliant idea, to slide together while holding each other. 

Of course, when you’re drunk a lot of things look like a great idea. The execution, of course, wasn’t ideal. 

But you did it anyway, and you fell flat to the floor, both of you, Tom on top of you. Giggling to each other of course, as the music continued and then the pain started, your ankle. 

“Are you—are you okay?” He asked between snickers. 

You chuckled. “I… I think I hurt my ankle.” 

“Really?” He looked worried as he was staring deep into your eyes. 

But you couldn’t keep your laughter. “Yes.” 

“Why are you laughing then?” He joined you as he chuckled. 

“I—I don’t know.” 

He snickered as he gradually stopped laughing, both of you running out of breath, but he really stared at you,  pushing your hair back from your face, digging his chocolate eyes into yours, as he slowly switched between your eyes and your lips. 

You were waiting for him to make a move, as you twitched your lips. He brushed his lips slightly against you just as you felt your chest tightening, everything seemed so slow. And he finally caught your lips with a hard and soft kiss, it was weird, as if his lips were kissing a petal flower but were so hungry for it. And he backed away but then kissed you more and more. Peppering with small kisses as if he knew this was wrong and he had to let go but he couldn’t get enough. 

“Tom,” you said between kisses. 

“Hm?” 

“I really hate to ruin this but my ankle seriously hurts,” you admitted. 

He sighed before giving you one last kiss, chuckling into it. “Leave it only to you, y/n,” he said. “Cmon lets get you some ice.” 

Before you even knew it he had picked you up from the ground, making you squeal; and carried you to your bedroom. He kissed you after plopping you on the bed before leaving for the kitchen. 

You hugged your pillow. Where was this going? And why didn’t you mind? 

He brought a bag full of ice but then didn’t give it to you. He stopped at your door frame and looked around at your room, it was simple. Some vinyls on the wall, and lots of cut out movie posters, and Polaroids. Many Polaroids, some even with Tom in them.“I think I’ve honestly never been here,” he pointed out before sitting on the bed beside you. He’d brought two beers. 

“You still have a lot of pictures of Timmo hanging around,”he pointed out as he finally gave you the bag of ice and the opened beer. 

“I—well,” you shrugged. “He’s important to me.” 

“He’s the only ex boyfriend hanging around,” he sassed. “Is there ever going to be another one as important that you don’t take him off the wall?” 

“I’m not ever gonna have a boyfriend again, I lost the perfect guy,”you sipped your beer. “I’m probably gonna die an old maid.”

Tom chuckled. “That’s not true, you’re a witch, remember?” He shuffled to get closer to you, both of you leaning against the wall. “You’re immortal, don’t worry, you won’t die, you’ll stay single, but you won’t die.” 

You stared at the wall. “Mm, oh to be a witch in the woods not bothered by men.” 

He giggled. “that’s a dream.” 

“Yeah, and I’m getting close to it, by not having any boyfriend.” 

“I could be your boyfriend,” he stared at you.

You burst out in laughter, but your head landed on his shoulder. “Ha, sure.” 

“Did you laugh?”

“Yes, you’re joking, people usually laugh at jokes,” you nudged him. “You’re funny.”

He faked his pride. “Am I undatable?”

“Very. And may I remind you that we despise each other?” You recalled as you chuckled. You were drunk, very, very drunk. 

“Ah, minor details,” he laughed as he lifted your chin, “Wait am I really undatable?” 

“Yes.” 

“Or is it only our history?” He questioned. 

You pushed him away and shrugged. “You’re undatable and we have way too much history,” you stretched. 

He shifted to sit in front of you. “Okay, let’s put it this way, imagine if someone set us up... we don’t know each other  and I showed up at your door.” 

You wrinkled your nose. “Uh-huh, yeah, no, hard pass.” 

He frowned. “Really? Am I not boyfriend material?”

“No.” 

“What material am I then?” He laughed. 

“Punching bag material.” 

He rolled his eyes. “But no, okay okay, really, picture it.” 

You scoffed. “Oh, cmon Tom.” 

“I’d show up at your door with yellow flowers,” he trailed off. 

You looked away. “Yellow flowers.” 

“Yes, and I’d take you-“

“To a fancy restaurant? Hard pass.” 

He licked his lips. “You haven’t even let me finish.” 

“But I know you.” 

He shuffled closer. “No, I’d probably take you to a train ride.” 

“A train ride?”

“Ya, all that sceneric shit you like.” He was playing with your hand. 

“But wasn’t this a blind date? How would you know I like that?”

“You think I wouldn’t ask about you? And please I would’ve stalked your Instagram,” he pointed out. 

“And you’d still showed up? Hmm I had stalked your Instagram I would’ve passed.” 

“Really?” He looked hurt. 

You smiled at him. “No.”

He blushed but then cleared his throat. “but then for our second date…”

“Oh, we are having a second date?” 

“Of course.” 

“But we were meant to hate each other,” you laughed. 

“Yes, true but you don’t show your true self on the first date so we wouldn’t fight until the third or fourth,” he commented as he was now walking his fingers up your arm. 

He shifted back next to you, and your head landed back on his shoulder as you played with his hands. “So where would you take me on the second date?”

He kissed the top of your head. “Stargazing.” 

You shook your head. “Hmm no, that’s more of a third date kind of thing.” 

“Hmm museum then? Yes... And we’d probably make out there.”

You laughed. “Why is that?” 

He chuckled,sipping his beer. “I’m 78% sure art turns you on.” 

You laughed. “That’s oddly specific”

“Yes, I need to confirm it but I have evidence to support that,” he laughed. 

“What’s that evidence?”

He smirked. “I turn you on and I’m art,” he lifted your chin and brushed your lips with his thumb. 

You glared at him. “You don’t turn me on.”

“Sh, we are planning our dates here,” he pecked your lips. “So third date?”

“The stargazing thing and that would be my idea… Maybe a picnic in the dark, we could fly a kite at sunset.”  

“Fly a kite?” He frowned. 

“Yes, that’s so romantic,” you laughed. 

“As long as I recall last time we did fly a kite I was the opposite of romantic,” he scoffed. 

“You ripped my kite.” 

“It was an accident.” 

You chuckled. “You were an accident.” 

“Maybe the kite flying would make us realize that we hate each other,” he sighed.

“Too bad, we won’t get to the stargazing,” you mentioned.

“Who knows maybe we do, we start fighting and we keep fighting that the sun fades out and before we know it we’re fighting under the stars,” he chanted. 

“Aren’t you romantic,” you rolled your eyes. 

He turned to you.  “Why do you hate me?”

“Hm?”

“I—I don’t understand why we hate each other,” he whispered. 

You looked at him. “Because I’m always waiting for the next time you’re going to hurt me.”

“What?”

“I… look at this dynamic alright? It’s not like we haven’t had this before,” you started, as you turned to him. “This whole… thing.”

He stayed quiet. 

“Think about it, we’ve been alone like this and everything goes… decent, whatever that means. And we’ve…” you cleared your throat. “And… I simply wait for you to give me the cold shoulder again, and then… just wait for you to find a way to break my heart again.” 

He didn’t say anything. 

“And it’ll be like my teenage years again,” you didn’t know why you were telling him this. 

“What about—?”

You let out a soft chuckle. “I was in love with you.”

He sipped his beer. “Terrible decision.” 

“Ha, yeah. But hey. I was inexperienced, didn’t know better, and you simply…” you trailed off. “I mean I didn’t like you when we were children… but you were the… you were the first person I ever fell in love with…”

Tom frowned. “Really?”

You closed your eyes. “God, I can’t believe I’m telling you this. It’s like I’m giving you the weapons to hurt me, and then telling you where exactly to wound.” 

“I won’t…”

“But… I guess you made me hate you. I didn’t want to hate you. All those years growing up, I was annoyed by you, you were this… kid with lots of energy and with barely any boundaries and then… it didn’t bother me you know? Little did I know it was tearing me apart. And then… you broke my heart, and you knew you were breaking it, and I’m not talking about when we were kids, I’m…it’s stupid okay, but you knew it didn’t you?” 

Tom took your hand in his. “I—“

“So that’s why I hate you,” you admitted. “Because you know all my weaknesses and you use them against me.” You gulped. “So the real question here is, why do you hate me?”

He kissed your hand. “It’s complicated. I don’t hate you, but I do, I hate you because I know I should.”

“That doesn’t make any sense—“

He kissed you, a slow but warm kiss, you closed your eyes instantly.. You could taste the beer on his lips, his fingers were running up from your hips to your stomach, as he so delicately peppered your face with kisses, soft and slowly. You didn’t want an answer, anymore. You guessed this was his answer. 

Your own hands were busy unbuttoning the shirt he was wearing. 

*

Your hands found his stomach and travelled up to his chest. His lips rattled down to your neck, as his hands went up to your breasts, cupping them gently. You kissed his jawline as he pulled back slightly, you opened your eyes, as he was running his hands up your thighs, making you shiver. 

And the clothes were a burden, even if you were barely wearing anything for now, the dress shirts were bothering both of you. You let him take it off of you, as his lips landed on your stomach and slowly placed gentle kisses, trailing up and down. Down to the edge of your hips, and up to your collarbones as if he was trying to map out your body, with his hands delicately pushing against your thighs. His warm breath made you squirm again and he only looked up with a grin. 

His fingers teased the edge of your underwear, pressing his lips on top of it. He looked up at you, caramel eyes filled with lust… but sweetness. He traveled down to your inner thighs, brushing his lips against them, his warm breath making your core shiver. 

“I hate you,” you moaned, making him chuckle as he only made your core tremble. 

“don’t cry y/n,” he said before placing a kiss to the fabric covering your sex, already soaking wet. You let out a moan, throwing your head back. He slipped his fingers past the fabric and pressed the core just lightly. 

“Tom,” you shut your eyes closed. 

He ripped down  the lacy underwear next throwing it across the room, and only chuckled against you, you tried to grip into the blanket as he opened up your legs more. 

“You’re gonna hate me more, but you already ate something I cooked,” he assured before he ran his fingers up through your folds.

“Thomas,” you whined in protest. 

He chuckled before leaving a soft trail of kisses on your heat but avoiding where you needed him the most.

You tried to close your legs trying to get any type of pressure, but he kept them open.  He licked his lips before finally placing a soft kiss to your clit, you let out a moan. 

“T-Tom,” you could barely say it as he continued to lick around the sensitive nub in slow motion, as his fingers were slipping in through your folds. You ran out of breath as he curled up his fingers inside you. 

Your stomach tightened with pleasure as you continued to moan his name out loud. 

Your hand went down to tug his hair, and you swore you could feel his smirk against your heat. But he continued, up and down, in circles. In and out. And you were close and he knew it, so he went in faster and harder. 

“Come for me, darling,” he ordered and his name fell out of your mouth again in breathless gasps, as you came all over him. 

You had to catch your breath as you came down from your high. 

 But he climbed back up with sloppy kisses. And you cupped his face, running your fingers down his hair and crushing your lips against his. 

You pushed him back, sitting up so you’d finally be able to push back his shirt, and finally wrapping your legs around him. His hands clumsily ran behind your back as you kissed and sucked on his neck biting slightly, his hands finally managed to unhook your bra as you pulled back, you cupped his face again, staring into him. 

His sloppy kisses found a sweet spot on your neck his hands went down to knead your ass, and he moved your hips, rocking into you. Your finger traced down his toned muscles as you felt you were running out of breath, as you slipped your hands into his underwear cupping his hard length. You caressed it but he pushed you back into the bed, pushing your head against your pillow as he grinned and squirmed. His hands wrapping your waist as you helped him pull down his own underwear, his cock hitting his stomach. 

“I need to be in you, y/n,” he admitted as he positioned himself in between your legs, rubbing the tip against your folds. You reached for your drawer this time, knowing damn well you had some spare condoms from when you were dating Tim. You wrapped the condom around him, and he teased you again. 

He didn’t even warn you before in a single rough movement, he thrusted into you, he squeezed his eyes shut as his body curved into you. You were still recovering from your own high as he started pulling in and out, you rocked your hips against him, helping you get your own friction as he thrusted in slowly and steadily but roughly. Your nails dug into his skin, as your lips found a sweet spot on his neck. Sweat dropped down his face as he connected his lips back to yours. 

He bucked his hips to meet yours as he was moaning your name. You didn’t know how long it took him but you were so invested in his lips, as he arched his back, quickening up his movements to reach his own high. Your hands exploring down his body, and kneading his ass, the friction against your core building up your second orgasm,reaching your high even with more pleasure.. Before you knew it he had yelled out your name and squirmed his high, filling you up as you . 

*

He pulled out but kept kissing your neck, not even needing to catch his breath, as his hands walked down your body. 

But his lips landed back on yours and then he stared at you. You were panting as you pushed his hair back. 

You wouldn’t have been ready for what he asked you next even if they’d warn you. 

And you… feared it again. 

Because he was poisonous. No. He was like that song that you fell in love with and you loved listening to it, over and over, until it eventually bothered you because it was overplayed. It got old. But one day, without you noticing, it played on the radio and you realized that you were falling in love with it all over again.

“What are we, y/n?” He asked as he nuzzled against your neck, placing soft kisses against it. You reached out for the blanket to cover both of you. 

“Mmh?”

He cleared his throat. “I mean… this whole thing we’ve got going on?”

“Don’t know, didn’t expect to end here.” 

He gulped. “Neither did I”

You say up just slightly and turned to him. “But does this need a name? Can’t we just… not”

“Cmon, it’s not that complicated, I just need to know what you think we are, so we are both on the same page,” he reached out to push your hair back. 

“Why would you need that?”

He shrugged. “So I know where my boundaries are, what’s the name of this game?”

You bit your lip. “I’d say we are...Enemies with benefits.”

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[heyyyharry]

Deep End - Chapter 8: Fake Dating (Preview)

...in which Harry and Ezi become a couple.

AU: famous!harry, siren!mc, adult modern retelling of the little mermaid? lol, fake dating, enemies to lovers.

WARNING: MATURE THEMES

All chapters / Synopsis / Moodboard / Playlist

Full chapter: Wednesday, June 9, 2021. Read it now on Patreon.

A/N: Someone complained about the pacing so I decided to speed it up. I'm too busy with the paperwork for my UK visa so writing has been a struggle. Thank you so much for putting up with my weird posting schedule (there isn't one really lol) :P It's getting interesting from this chapter on, I promise.

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.

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“Jeff, can I have a moment with Ezi?”

“Yeah, sure, sure. Take all the time you need,” Jeff said as he shot Ezili a wink and retreated to the hallway, looking more excited than ever. The door closed behind him, and Harry turned right back to Ezili, his eyeballs nearly sticking out of his head.

“Are you fucking insane?!” he cried, gripping his hair. “Why did you agree?”

“I don’t see the problem.”

“You don’t--Fuck!”

Ezili crossed her arms as she watched Harry flop back onto the couch. She thought he might need a moment to calm down. Why were humans so emotional and dramatic? Especially Harry. Where did he find all the energy to freak out at least three times a day? Yes, she’d counted.

“I’m not fake dating you,” he said, glancing up at her.

She leaned back against the table, her shoulders raised. “Why not?”

“Do you even know what Jeff was proposing?”

“Yes, I’m not dumb. I learned all about dating on TikTok. You hold hands, kiss, go everywhere together, call each other ‘babe’--”

“It’s not as simple as that!” Harry cut her off. “And I hate the word ‘babe’.” He stuck out his tongue and made a face. “Beb...ew.”

“Cool. I’ll start calling you ‘babe’ then.”

“Shut up.”

“What do you mean, babe? I don’t get it, babe,” Ezili said with a grin that would surely drive Harry insane. She enjoyed pissing him off. And the fact that she knew that he knew how much she enjoyed it, pissed him off even more.

“Dating me is a lot different from that,” he said at last, his voice more relaxed now, but Ezili could tell he was far from it. “Our PR relationship would only draw more attention to you. It’s the last thing we’d want. If people found out--” His gaze jumped to the door, and he spoke quieter, fearing Jeff might hear them from the hallway, “--that you’re a siren, we’d both be screwed.”

Ezili took a deep breath. “You don’t think I’ve already thought of that? Let’s look at it this way. Sooner or later, people will find out that I’m living with you. How would you explain that then? If they think we’re living together because we’re dating, then they won’t ask questions we don’t want them to ask. I can just come and leave your house whenever I want, and you can sell an album from our made-up love story.” The look on Harry’s face made Ezili cackle. “What? You don’t think I could come up with that? Remember, your brain is far less developed than mine.”

Harry didn’t argue this time. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, his face thoughtful. She knew a lot was going through his mind at the moment, making it hard for him to translate it into words. He was probably still on the fence and afraid to take this much risk. She needed to convince him to go for it.

If they pretended to be a couple and spent a lot of time together, it’d be easier for her to make him fall in love with her. Also, their fake relationship would eliminate all the other contestants who were seeking his attention. Making someone fall in love with you was already a difficult task, Ezili didn’t want to compete with a human girl who knew what she was doing.

“Hey,” she said and placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder. He flinched as he thought she’d hit him and acted surprised when she offered a gentle smile. “Your mother keeps nagging you about getting a girlfriend, right? If we do this, not only will you get more people to buy our song, but you’ll also please your mother for a while so you can focus on your career.”

Harry bit the inside of his cheek. He said nothing, but Ezili knew it was a yes. She smiled and patted him on the arm. “That’s the spirit. Now, do we have a deal, babe?”

[cali-holland]

Wrong Twin- Harry Holland One Shot

Pairing: Harry Holland X Reader

Prompt: You and Harry have your first big fight and you call him the one thing he never wanted to be called- your ex’s name, his brother’s name, Sam.

Word Count: 3000

Masterlist   Harry Holland Masterlist

Warnings: swearing, maybe a mention of anxiety?

A/N: This may have been loosely based on another part of last man standing but i’ll never tell ahaha; also i was too lazy to find a pic/gif

~~~

June 23rd was considerably your least favorite day of the year. It used to be your favorite day of the year. Well, it was for a year.

You know how you can grow up with someone and be their best friend, and then they ask you out and you say yes because you thought you liked them romantically and they thought they liked you that way too, but then after a year together, you both realize you don’t actually like each other in that way, so you decide to mutually breakup?

Yeah, that was your relationship with Sam. Sam Holland. Your ex-boyfriend.

And that was why you found yourself wide awake at four in the morning, unable to sleep on June 23rd. If you two were still together, it would have been your three year anniversary as weird as that is to say now, especially considering it was a completely mutual breakup and you were both now fully committed to other people.

You finished your four am tea and shuffled back to the bedroom, desperately wanting sleep to overcome you.

“Where’d you go, darling?” You heard a muffled voice ask from under the sea of blankets on the bed as you closed the door quietly behind you. You let out a small sigh, climbing back into the bed.

“Can’t sleep.” You replied, softly. Your boyfriend wrapped an arm around your waist, cuddling into you and bringing you into his warm embrace.

“Wanna talk about it?” He murmured. His eyes were still closed and his hair was falling over his shut eyelids, making you think he was still half asleep or even completely asleep. You ran a gentle hand through his curls, placing a little kiss to his forehead.

“It’s fine. Go back to sleep, Harry.”

Harry. Harry Holland. Your present day boyfriend.

You grew up with the Hollands, and you were best friends with Sam and Harry since you were young. When Sam asked you out, you were a bit concerned that it’d mess up the trio, but it somehow didn’t. And then, when you broke up, you realized that maybe you had been with the wrong twin- can you even say that without sounding like a heartless bitch? They’re not just brothers; they’re twins. There were no problems in your relationship with Sam, so what could stop you from saying yes to Harry when he asked you out over a year later?

The three of you rarely ever brought up your relationship with Sam, even if it did last for a solid year. It was just awkward to think that you’d been with both twins. The three of you were still close friends; you’d even sometimes go on double dates with Sam’s girlfriend. Sam was your friend way before he was your ex-boyfriend.

You weren’t sure if Harry knew about June 23rd. You’d been with Harry for 11 months- the genius had asked you out on July 23rd (you didn’t know what the twins had with the number 23). You kind of had a thing about avoiding both twins, especially Sam, on June 23rd, just to avoid the awkward “hey this would’ve been our anniversary” thought. This year was no different; you fully intended on not seeing them, but Harry had asked you to stay over last night, so you really didn’t know what excuse you could use to get away from him today. You loved Harry, you really did- in fact, you loved him more than you loved Sam while you were dating (well, that was established as a more platonic, but forced romantic love). On June 23rd, though, there was no stopping your mind from running wild with memories of your old relationship. While it was simply just reminiscing on a year of your life, it made you feel so wrong to do that to Harry, but you couldn’t help it. 

You didn’t sleep at all between when you went back to bed and when Harry woke up. You were so lost in thought, laying on your back and staring at the ceiling, you didn’t realize Harry was awake. Harry pressed a kiss to your shoulder, making you jump a little at the sudden intimacy.

“Good morning.” He smiled, trailing kisses up from your shoulder to your lips.

“Mhm, good morning.” Your hand went to play with the hair at the nape of his neck as you pulled him in to kiss you again.

“Did you not sleep last night?” Harry asked, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. He could tell based on briefly remembering waking up to you returning to bed and based on how he woke up to you not cuddling him that something was up.

“I’m fine.” You reassured him. You went to kiss him again, but he pulled back with a frown.

“What’s wrong? You don’t typically try this hard to distract me in the morning.”

“You never make it this hard for me to distract you.” You countered, “Are you going to complain about my distraction?”

“I’m going to complain about you not telling me what’s wrong.” Harry was truly worried, you knew that. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him what today was though.

“I’m just stressed over work. It’s not that big of a deal, I’m completely fine.” You told him, hoping he’d believe your lie, “Now, you gonna kiss me or not, Harry?”

He smiled softly, leaning in to kiss you some more.

Once you and Harry had finally managed your way out of bed and got ready for your day, Harry began to make your breakfast in the kitchen.

“So, what are the plans for today?” He asked, knowing you didn’t have work at all.

“Girls day with Molly.” You replied, and he looked at you confused.

“Molly’s in town?” He knew your friend traveled a lot for work (not unlike him). Harry set down a plate of pancakes in front of you at the nook in the kitchen, sitting beside you as you split the stack and shared the plate because less dishes.

“Yeah, she got in yesterday.” You lied. You needed the day away from Harry, and you needed to get out of his. Avoiding Sam for a day didn’t quite work when Harry lived with him- and Tom, Harrison, and Tuwaine.

“Oh, well, tell her I said hi then. Where was she this time?”

“Tokyo, I think? I’m sure I’ll know today.” You joked nervously.

“Can I come over tonight then?” Harry asked through a mouthful of pancakes. You were surprised by your boyfriend’s seemingly endless list of questions, but he was a major cuddler and, if he could sleep with you beside him, he would, so whenever he was home, he always wanted to spend the night with you.

“Molly’s probably coming over for drinks, but I’ll let you know, okay?” You placed a hand on his thigh, squeezing it reassuringly. You hated lying to Harry, especially over something as stupid as a day. 

“She’s just stealing you all day. God, I hate when she’s in town.” He teased, letting out an overdramatic sigh before tugging your chair closer to you, draping an arm around your shoulders. Harry pressed a kiss to your temple before you both continued to eat your breakfasts.

“I should get going. I still need to shower and stuff before I go out with Molly.” You said, standing from your seat when you had finished the food and clearing the empty plate from the table.

“Are you sure everything’s alright?” Harry asked, still concerned over your wellbeing.

“I’m fine, I promise.” You told him before giving him a goodbye kiss. He deepened the kiss before you could pull away, one hand on the back of your neck and one hand maneuvering its way down to rub your ass a little. You moaned into the kiss, enjoying its tender passion. Harry loved to kiss you goodbye, always making sure to show you just how much he loves you.

“Fucking hell, in the kitchen, really?” A voice made you jump back from Harry, but, considering his grip on your ass and your neck, you only really disconnected your lips from his.

“Way to ruin a moment, Sam.” Harry glared at his twin.

“This is a communal zone!” Sam insisted.

“I need to go.” You gave Harry another quick kiss before stepping out of his embrace. You offered Sam a small smile as you left, leaving the two twins alone in confusion. It wasn’t usual for you to just not say anything to Sam.

You spent the rest of your day alone, trying to think of ways to actually talk to Harry about this subject. He had never said anything about you and Sam, but you assumed it was a sensitive topic for him, you assumed he probably didn’t like to think of his girlfriend being intimate with another guy, let alone his twin brother. You knew you needed to tell Harry though; you needed to tell him that June 23rd meant you could not see his brother and relive any awkwardness. You saw a future with Harry, which meant you’d spend a lot more June 23rd’s together.

As for Harry, he spent the rest of his day trying to think of what could possibly be wrong with you. If something was upsetting you or if something was just on your mind, you’d tell him; that’s what you always did, so now why is it different? He thought maybe he did something to upset you, but he couldn’t think of anything- he didn’t even hog all the blankets last night (yes, he was concerned you were upset over the bedding). 

When Tom invited him to the pub for some drinks with him and Harrison since Sam was out on a date, he couldn’t say no, thinking maybe a beer or two will enlighten him on how he messed up. He tried to clear his mind of his concerns over you; you were out with your friend, he had no reason to be worried. Or so he thought.

“What’re you looking at?” Tom asked, noticing his younger brother’s face fall as he stared at his phone. He looked over Harry’s shoulder to see Harry was on Instagram, viewing a story.

“Who is that?” Harrison questioned.

“Molly.” Harry replied, replaying the story to see your friend, smiling brightly in Tokyo. She wasn’t back; you had lied to him. “Y/N lied to me.”

“Oh shit.” was all Tom could get out as Harrison still tried to connect the dots between this Molly girl and you.

“She said she was with her friend, but her friend’s in Japan.” He exited out of the app and locked his phone, shoving into his pocket. He drank the rest of his beer down quickly, too upset to think straight. “I mean I knew something was wrong with Y/N today, but I didn’t think it’d be wrong enough for her to avoid me.”

“Maybe she isn’t?” Tom suggested.

“My girlfriend lies about hanging out with her friend all day. She’s avoiding me or she’s cheating me or both.” He sighed, trying not to go immediately to the worst case scenario.

“Maybe you should go see her?” Harrison offered. None of them knew what to do; it was extremely abnormal for you to not only avoid Harry but also to lie to him- even back before you started dating. He knew everything about you, just like you knew everything about him.

“Yeah, yeah, I should go talk to her.” Harry nodded, getting his thoughts together. He called for an Uber and left the other two at the pub. His mind was racing with plausible explanations, but he kept drawing a blank. He couldn’t think of any reason why you’d lie to him and avoid him; he started to worry maybe he did hog the blankets too much?

When Harry arrived at your small apartment, he stood anxiously on the doorstep. Three nervous knocks later and he was waiting for you to answer, praying that you were alone. He let out a sigh of relief when you opened the door.

“Harry,” You breathed out, surprised to see him at your door. You could tell by the slight red hue on his cheeks that he’d had at least a beer. He made his way into your apartment, his eyes searching the entryway almost suspiciously as you closed the door behind him. 

“I know you weren’t with Molly today.” Harry said, his eyes finally landing on you, hurt glistening in them.

“Wh- what?” You tried to play it off.

“Don’t bullshit me. Are you cheating on me?” He asked, his voice raising accusingly. You stepped back in your own confused hurt.

“Why would you think that?” You questioned, but you already knew the answer.

“You lied to me today, and I know you’ve been avoiding me.”

“I just- I needed today.” You said, trying to calm him down. Harry wouldn’t have it though.

“What’s going on with you today?” He pressed, “And you never answered me. Are you cheating on me?”

“No.” You answered, sternly.

“Then what’s the matter with you? Why did you lie?” Harry couldn’t help his shouting, and you couldn’t help the words that came out of your mouth next.

“God, just shut the fuck up, Sam.”

The second you said the wrong name, everything froze. You felt a thick tension come over the air, and Harry grew quiet.

“Sam?” He questioned, his voice was just above a whisper.

“Harry, that’s not-“ You started, but it was too late. Harry left without another word, slamming your front door behind him. You let out a sob, falling to the floor as you cried weakly. You’d done the unthinkable- you called your current boyfriend not only your ex-boyfriend’s, but also his twin brother’s name.

When Harry stormed off, all he wanted was to be left alone in his room, but the universe had other plans. He marched up to his door and let out a grumble of swears at the locked door. He was too furious and upset to get a good grip on his keys, making him even more infuriated.

“Are you trying to break down the door?” Sam questioned jokingly, opening it from the inside. “Why are you home early?”

“Don’t want to talk about it.” Harry muttered, immediately going to his room. Sam stood there dumbfounded by his brother’s mood. He made his way towards Harry’s room, but paused as he heard your familiar ringtone sounding from the other side of his brother’s door. Harry let out a string of curses, declining your call. Cautiously, Sam opened the door.

“Is everything alright?” He asked, genuinely concerned about his twin’s wellbeing.

“Y/N and I got into a fight.” Harry said with a sigh as Sam leaned against the door frame. Though the twins didn’t really disclose a ton of details about their relationship with you to each other specifically, Sam was worried and so of course he’d listen to his brother’s relationship problems, even if the girl was you, his own ex.

“About?”

“She just-“ He sighed again, “She blew me off today, and she lied to me. It’s like she doesn’t want to be around me today.”

“Did something happen?” Sam inquired, trying to find some sort of answers.

“I don’t know. It’s just like she woke up today and decided I wasn’t enough. And- and when we were fighting, she called me Sam.” Harry trailed off. He felt a knife twist in his gut at the memory. The lightbulb went off in Sam’s head as he connected the dots of your sudden aloofness.

“Harry,” Sam paused as he tried to come up with the best way to tell his brother, “Today is- well was, my anniversary with Y/N. It might not be that she’s avoiding you, but she’s avoiding me.”

“Today? Why wouldn’t she tell me that?” He asked, his voice calm for the first time since he saw you just earlier.

“I don’t know. I didn’t tell you.” He offered. “It’s probably hard for her to talk about. I mean, it’s awkward for me to talk about sometimes.”

“I- I guess.” Harry pondered, “I just didn’t think that your anniversary from, what, three years ago would be that big of a deal for her?”

“Just talk to her about it, okay? It’s weird enough for us to know we’ve both been with the same girl; it’s gotta be weird for her too.” Sam stated and Harry grimaced.

“I appreciate the help, but I don’t need to picture you having sex with my girlfriend.” He gagged.

“Hey, she was my girlfriend first.” He teased, exiting the room. Harry took out his phone to see you’d texted him a few times after he ignored your call, and Sam called out to his twin again, “Call her back, you div!”

Harry didn’t even look through your worried texts as he called you back. He was shocked when it went to voicemail; for you to call him and text him numerous times, you not picking up his call was odd. The surprise wore off as he heard rushed knocking on the front door. A small grin formed on his face and he raced down the stairs, opening the front door immediately.

Before you could even react to Harry’s sudden presence, he had wrapped you up tightly in his arms.

“I’m so sorry.” Harry said, quietly. He pulled back from the hug and rested his hands on your waist.

“Why are you sorry? I should be apologizing. I- I called you Sam, and I never-“ Tears streamed down your cheeks as you shook, unsteadily. Harry cut off your rambling with a kiss.

“I know what today is, and I understand why you didn’t tell me, but you know you can tell me anything, even if it has to do with Sam.” He reassured you. “I’m sorry for accusing you of cheating and just for everything. I was being an inconsiderate dick. It was uncalled for, and I never should’ve yelled at you.”

“I should’ve just told you.”

“It’s alright.” He smiled softly at you, before jokingly adding, “Next year, we’re going to spend June 23rd somewhere so far away from Sam that you won’t even connect the day to him anymore.”

“Sounds like a deal.” You laughed, and Harry pulled you in for another kiss, happy to have you back to your normal self again.

~~~

Tag List: @viagracex @theamazingtomholland @Hellomoveonby @heyitsshrez @harrisonosterfieldhazmyheart @joyleenl

Harry Tag List: @tomkindholland 

[thelittlestcheshire]

even if you have to cry, don't let your crown fall

a love letter to luxor’s ches elswood

Well, it’s finally time that I feel ready to post this, and while I’m aware it may be bittersweet with my upcoming departure, I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Today I present to you a three hour Ches playlist, divided into sections and covering her entire time at Luxor, from when I first picked her up in June of 2019 all the way to now. There’s quite a few plot references, and small (and not as small) references to other muses throughout, especially when it comes to Elliot, so keep an eye out for those as well!

I’d like to thank Lex for giving me the idea to make these, and her support throughout the process because without her, these playlists wouldn’t even exist. And thank you to everyone who has gone on this journey with us, while I’m sorry I need to dip out early after this event to focus on my health, I love y’all so much.

The standard Ches tws apply (poor mental health, alcoholism, etc etc), and anything I think may be a bit abnormal / section exclusive is noted on the sections.

twist me like a key, then you open the lock | pre-luxor:

the section of time before I played Ches at Luxor, very James heavy. additional tws: Death (Sign of the Times), Toxic relationships (nothing explicit tho)

Sign of the Times (Jasmine Thompson) [ Remember everything will be alright. We can meet again somewhere, somewhere far away from here. ] // Sweet Ophelia (Zella Day) [ Singing like it's a full moon, careless now that he has you. Turns you on to the right songs, promises that you're hooked on. ] // Couple of Kids (Maggie Lindemann) [ Now I'm fallin' heavily, recklessly, trying not to lose my sensibility; but gravity, it pulls me into you. ] // Glowstick (Sofia Karlberg) [ You play me like a line-up; long con, you make me wise up. ] // Crying in the Club (Camila Cabello) [ Ain't no crying in the club, hey, hey, let the beat carry away, your tears as they fall, baby. Ain't no crying in the club, hey, hey, with a little faith, your tears turn to ecstasy. ] // Ember (Katherine McNamara) [ Reignite; you lost your grip on me, and now I blaze wild and free. ]

nobody shows up unless i'm paying, have a drink on me cheers to the failing | summer & fall 2019:

the first time I was at Luxor playing ches, from June - October 2019

7 rings (Ariana Grande) [ Been through some bad shit, I should be a sad bitch. Who woulda thought it'd turn me to a savage? ] // I'm a Mess (Bebe Rexha) [ “It's gonna be a good, good life;” that's what my therapists say. ] // OMG (Little Mix) [ Oh my gosh, I did it again. He said I broke his heart, it keeps happening. ] // Only Angel (Harry Styles) [ Couldn't take you home to mother in a skirt that short, but I think that's what I like about it. ] // LA Devotee (Panic! At The Disco) [ Drinking white wine in the blushing light, just another LA Devotee. ] // Woman Like Me (Little Mix feat. Nicki Minaj) [ I made a few mistakes, I regret it nightly. I broke a couple hearts that I wear on my sleeve. ]

all of this emptiness i've been sharing, it never comes when i want it to | winter 2019:

the period of time Ches went home to be with her family and was away from luxor additional tws: vomiting (Habits (Stay High))

Carmen (Lana Del Rey) [ Darlin’, darlin’, doesn't have a problem lyin’ to herself ‘cause her liquor’s top shelf ] // How You Remind Me (Avril Lavigne) [ And I've been wrong, I've been down, been to the bottom of every bottle. These five words in my head scream, "Are we havin' fun yet?" ] // Playing God (Paramore) [ This is the last second chance (I'll point you to the mirror). I'm half as good as it gets (I'll point you to the mirror). I'm on both sides of the fence (I'll point you to the mirror). Without a hint of regret, I'll hold you to it ] // Habits {Stay High} (Tove Lo) [ Staying in my play pretend, where the fun ain't got no end. Oh, can't go home alone again, need someone to numb the pain. ] // Bedroom Window (The Pretty Reckless) [ As I look out of my bedroom window; is it all real or just fantasy? I have lost touch with what makes me human, I have lost touch with reality. ] // Impossible Year (Panic! At The Disco) [ There's no sunshine, this impossible year; only black days and sky grey and clouds full of fear. ]

i wouldn't say you got the best of me, i'd say you got me somewhere in between | spring 2020:

Ches’s return to Luxor, and the months following leading up to her mass text about Leo’s dad following the Lake Bash

3 O'Clock Things (AJR) [ Would you go running if you saw the real me? Maybe you'd love 'em, yeah, maybe you'd feel me. ] // Wild Heart (Bleachers) [ Well, everything has changed and now I can't tell what matters. I will find any way to your wild heart. ] // Rise (Katy Perry) [ When the fire's at my feet again and the vultures all start circling. They're whispering, “you're out of time.” But still, I rise. ] // Don't Stop Me Now (Queen) [ I'm a rocket ship on my way to Mars on a collision course. I am a satellite, I'm out of control. ] // Princesses Don't Cry (CARYS) [ Girls, so pretty and poised and soft to the touch, but God made me rough. Girls, so heavy the crown, they carry it tall, but it's weighing me down. ] // Save Rock And Roll (Fall Out Boy feat. Elton John) [ You are what you love, not who loves you. In a world full of the word 'yes', I'm here to scream... no, no (no, no). ] // Making a Monster out of Me (Katherine McNamara) [ And I don't know how to recollect the morals that I always did possess. Don't know where its leading me. ] // We Don't Have To Dance (Andy Black) [ You're never gonna get it, I'm a hazard to myself. I'll break it to you easy. This is hell, this is hell. ]

tonight it's alright, i can see the tunnel at the end of these lights | summer 2020:

summer camp and the months leading up to a new school year

Night Owls Early Birds (Foxes) [ A wild fire inside me burns. Why do I look like I'm wear for worse? Save me, save me, go underneath the ground. ] // Too Much (Carly Rae Jepsen) [ When I party, then I party too much. When I feel it, then I feel it too much. When I'm thinking, then I'm thinking too much. When I'm drinking, then I'm drinking too much. ] // Royal Blue (Alberto Rosende) [ My regrets are a shade around my neck I know. It's torturous, and there's a burden that I can't let go. ] // Who You Selling For (The Pretty Reckless) [ And when Roger showed me I was building a wall. I've been waiting a long time, waiting a long time, waiting a long time, waiting for it to fall. ] // Heavy (Linkin Park feat. Kiiara) [ You say that I'm paranoid, but I’m pretty sure the world is out to get me. It’s not like I make the choice to let my mind stay so fucking messy. ] // The Archer (Taylor Swift) [ I've been the archer, I've been the prey; screaming, “who could ever leave me,” darling. But who could stay? ] // Everybody Lost Somebody (Bleachers) [ And there's a reason I wake up alone in strange places, a reason I see myself in a million faces, a reason I can't stop it all from changing. So come on, motherfucker, you survive, you gotta give yourself a break. ]

no cameras catch my muffled cries. i counted days, i counted miles | fall and winter 2020(/21):

a new school year, from the start of the semester right until the aftermath of the kings’ party

So It Goes (Guards) [ I don't know who I am but I do know who I'm not. I'm just looking for a friend, I'm still searching for the plot. ] // Wasabi (Little Mix) [ Love to hate me, praise me, shame me; either way, you talk about me. ] // Think Before I Talk (Astrid S) [ Maybe I should think before I talk; I get emotional and words come out all wrong. Sometimes I'm more honest than I want. ] // Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince (Taylor Swift) [ No cameras catch my muffled cries. I counted days, I counted miles to see you there, to see you there. And now the storm is coming, but... ] // Sober Up (AJR feat. Rivers Cuomo) [ Won't you help me sober up? Growin' up, it made me numb, and I wanna feel somethin' again. ] // The Show Must Go On (Queen) [ Empty spaces, what are we living for? Abandoned places, I guess we know the score, on and on. Does anybody know what we are looking for? ] // Waiting For A Friend (The Pretty Reckless) [ My head is like a prison cell, I'm all by myself. I'm waiting for my friend to come and break me out. ] // Sober (Demi Lovato) [ I'm sorry that I'm here again, I promise I'll get help. It wasn't my intention, I'm sorry to myself. ] // Eight (Sleeping At Last) [ I'm just a kid who grew up scared enough to hold the door shut, and bury my innocence. But here's a map, here's a shovel, here's my Achilles' heel. ]

i got this handled, i don't need rescuing | spring and early summer 2021:

ches’s progress from the end of march until now

The Man (Taylor Swift) [ I’m so sick of running as fast as I can, wondering if I'd get there quicker if I was a man. And I'm so sick of them coming at me again, 'cause if I was a man, then I'd be the man. ] // Princess (FLETCHER) [ But we're all going through it, so why do we do it? Why do we hide? ] // Humpty Dumpty (AJR) [ If I can't breathe, then you can't see, but aren't you excited that I'm giving you the best me? ] // My Mistake (Gabrielle Aplin) [ Am I jaded? Am I meant to feel this way?  I'm a loser, getting beat by my own game. But if I falter, well, at least it was my mistake. ] // The Climb (Miley Cyrus) [ The struggles I'm facing, the chances I'm taking; sometimes might knock me down, but no, I'm not breaking. ] // breathin (Ariana Grande) [ Some days, things just take way too much of my energy. I look up and the whole room's spinning. You take my cares away. ] // Clean (Taylor Swift) [ Ten months sober, I must admit just because you're clean, don't mean you don't miss it. Ten months older, I won't give in, now that I'm clean, I'm never gonna risk it. ] // Not a Pop Song (Little Mix) [ A hamster on a wheel that's how it feels tryna be real. These unrealistic expectations said we'll make it if we fake it. ] // Queen (Loren Gray) [ Eyes on me like I'm a prize but you better recognize I'm not your angel 'cause I belong to me. ] // The Cure (Little Mix) [ This happiness was always inside me but Lord, it took a minute to find me. ]

[bladekindeyewear]

HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2020-12-25

I’m not going to spend time BLOGGING an upd8 on Christmas morning!

...yes I am who the fuck am I kidding.  (Bonus stuff and Hiveswap are still well on hold though.)

So are we gonna follow up on the main ship?  Probably not, right, with that perfect Karkat point to cut away, right?  We’re just going to leave Roxy’s question hanging, as well as makeouts etiquette, and leave while having seen a COUPLE FRAMES of non-possessed canon Jade with only whatever fun fanart was inspired across the internet by the moment to tide us over????

Yeah, probably.

Ugh, more Dirk.  I guess it’s overdue.  :(

> CHAPTER 16. Welcome to my Secret Lair

Oh huh, I guess not?  So... Jane’s, or Rose and Kanaya’s?

Karkat stays for longer than John thought he would. They talk a bit, but mostly they are quiet. Eventually, Karkat gets called away on yet more important war business, leaving John with one final touch on the shoulder. John leans into it in response, though he’s a bit ashamed of chasing down a sliver of physical affection so soon after obliterating Karkat’s evening like he had.

Pretty much, yeah.  Can’t blame either of them.

When Karkat is finally gone, John still doesn’t move. It isn’t as though he has nowhere else to go, since there are quite a few places he might attempt to make himself useful, for better or for worse.

You’re still abandoning the task that was explicitly yours to protect your literal kid and his friends, but, oh well.  Low-point.  Dave dead, house dead, broke news, I get it.

He just doesn’t feel ready for that yet. The remnants of his house are still smoldering, and he can’t stop staring at them. It would make sense, he thinks, to want to root around through the rubble for anything that’s still intact; some half-charred keepsake to claim as the last thing left that’s still his. But he doesn’t want to do it, and he doesn’t want to think about it. And he still can’t move.

Can’t move.  No Breath huh?  What’s going to get him to, then?

> (==>)

Oh boy, that might help.  XD  She’s pretty good at that.

> (==>)

Still with the waistline gap.  And was his phone always yellow like his God-Tier shoes?

ROXY: hey john can u do me a quick solid ROXY: actly idk how quick itll be but its definitely solid ROXY: harry anderson says i just missed u being here but could u skip back on over?

Nice, huh!  No judgment, just a hey-any-chance-you-could-swing-back.  He sort of needs to be needed right now, in a simple, almost everyday non-judgmental way I guess.  (That’s what he NEEDED anyway-- whether he deserved it though is up for debate.)

ROXY: i need help w/smth and yr darling boy is holed up in his room working on some fuckin craft project or other and cant be bothered

YES SEW JOHN A BETTER FITTING FUCKING OUTFIT

ROXY: and now that me and u are freshly on speakin terms again i might as well take advantage of that olive branch and put u to work ROXY: assumin you havent died in an air raid, that is ROXY: which id also be interested in knowin about so if u wld be so kind as to reply instead of leavin me hangin

Heheheh.  Gosh Roxy is always the best.

JOHN: yea yea sorry im here. JOHN: i just had a hard time getting my phone out of these fucking tiny pants.

Hah.

JOHN: and also my house is bombed out so i'm kinda grappling with that. JOHN: but i honestly am not sure how much longer i need to sit around staring at it. trying to align my memories of my youth with whatever is happening right now so JOHN: short version is no i’m not dead, and yeah i can come back over there and help you out. ROXY: oh sweet yr alive and down to do manual labor its a win/win JOHN: see you soon.

Yep!  Pulled away from all the metaphorical, ultra-meaningful bullshit, back to some brass tacks with some easy humor.  Definitely something Roxy can do well.~

> (==>)

EXCUSE ME.  What is that outfit and pose.  Did you--

ROXY: sup ROXY: follow me ROXY: well were just going to my room so i guess technically u know the way JOHN: haha ok.

Did you invite him over for the manual labor of banging you while your son is sewing in the other room

Or maybe the labor is making him a new sibling.  JFC

Is this plan part of why we got the sudden content warning that was mocked or was that mainly for Hiveswap 

John follows, trying to shake the ominous feeling he got from what she’d just said. He’d been in and out of this house a lot in the past few days. Why should this be any different?

I DUNNO JOHN DOES THIS SEEM DIFFERENT TO YOU

> (==>)

Yea this seems like a fucc room.

JOHN: it’s not like i could forget! ROXY: ya i guess u only really saw the living room when you were here the other day but i have changed some stuff up ROXY: done a lil redecoratin here n there

So it’s MORE of a fucc room than previously >__>”

ROXY: may have to do a smidge more if my old bff decides im next on the list for bombing out ROXY: but so far so good

Ah geez.

ROXY: just a coupla exploded cars in the yard from some shenanigans our dear son and his friends were in but u kno it is what it is!!!

Well, that’ll buff out easy.

ROXY: can i get u anything? ROXY: just made some coffee JOHN: no, uh, i’m good.

Of course she has a fancy handled winecoffeeglass  (and the handle does look ridiculous but it’d be too hot to hold otherwise)

Roxy shrugs and swirls her own coffee around in her novelty mug. John looks around. A lot about the room is the same. The family photos, the rug. There’s a lot more cat stuff in there now, though. The bed is new. John feels like he’s about to take a test he hasn’t studied for. He makes himself focus on what she’s saying.

That would be the feeling.

> (==>)

MY GOD.  Roxy is so fucking good at this holy shit

She KNOWS she’s making him squirm and she loves it

JOHN: so uh anyway. JOHN: what was this favor? ROXY: yo why dont u just come rest yr tush for a bit ROXY: take a lil relax next 2 me here JOHN: haha uh. JOHN: roxy i uh. JOHN: im flattered, but i don’t know if that’s really the right step right now. JOHN: don’t get me wrong, everything seems so fucked up right now that when i try to think about what might actually BE the right step, it feels like a huge cartoon question mark might physically manifest over my head. JOHN: but I’m not sure if um rekindling our physical relationship is really the best--

So is Roxy trolling him, about to reveal she wasn’t thinking of sex and was just making things seem sultry?  Or just had “lol jk” as an option-select, maybe.

> (==>)

ROXY: r u kiddin me rn egbert JOHN: i’m not? unless you were, in which case yeah lets say i was also kidding. JOHN: oh my god, i’m sorry, i don’t know why this making me freak out.

OH NOOO NOT THE DISDAAAAIN - CRITICAL HIT D:

ROXY: i remember our past boot knockin with fondness but that is a situation im not interested in revisiting

boot knockin XD

ROXY: look john ROXY: i was trying to be polite about it ROXY: offering u sustenance n rest n all ROXY: but you look like shit ROXY: i just wanted to catch up on the whole heinous war situation were in and maybe check in on e/o before leaping strait to the real n actual nonsexual manual labor favor i have in mind for u JOHN: oh.

Hey, she can’t help looking sexy she’s too good at it.

Is the manual labor moving the crashed cars?  Can’t Roxy pull that off on her own, or... banish the cars to the void or something?  (Oh, but WOULD she want to do it on her own when she can rope in John and bring him down to earth by giving him a useful task?  And admittedly his strength and wallet would make things easier.)

John feels his shoulders unbunch. Of course. Yeah. He’s almost embarrassed by how relieved he feels. So what if his ex wife wanted to hook up? Shouldn’t that be a situation he could navigate? Don’t people like to find solace in human physical connection during dire times? Why did the idea of it make his mind white out in panic more than, say, any number of the traumas he just experienced?

Probably some gender stuff mixed up in there too, June.

He doesn’t know, but he believes Roxy that he must look pretty haggard. He probably feels haggard? Maybe sitting down will feel better.

Just put your feet up yeah

> (==>)

WHAT A CUTE IMAGE

JOHN: sorry. like i said, my "how to react to stuff" meter is completely fucked right now. ROXY: thats fair bud

she’s used to being patient with you don’t worry otherwise you never would’ve gotten this far

ROXY: real fast i do need to do a quick takeback of all that shit i said last time we talked about janey not being literally the most evil person we knew or whatever ROXY: i guess i was hopped up on arguin or somethin since that was before we hit our conversational vibe bc of course u were right and i shoulda listened

Ouch.  Yeah, we saw just lately just how far off the deep end she was.  (Where was that funny upd8 reaction art summarizing the bit where Kanaya was holding Tavros hostage and Jane was transparently debating “hmm do I let my son die?” and Kanaya and Tavros were just looking at each-other flat-mouthed nervous?  I REALLY wanted to share that but I don’t usually want to reblog or put most stuff HS^2 not under a read-more, for spoiler purposes, usually.)

ROXY: im just glad ur ok ROXY: or like alive JOHN: yeah, jury's still out on "ok" but, you know. ROXY: ya ROXY: u said ur house is gone?? JOHN: yep. JOHN: completely. ROXY: jeez ROXY: i would ask how ur feelin but like the answer 2 that has got 2b "prtty bad"

Talk it ouuuut~~  get those feels out there and articulated john

JOHN: yeah. JOHN: i mean. JOHN: no? JOHN: it’s weird. JOHN: it feels like it should be a bigger deal, I guess? JOHN: like it’s my HOUSE. JOHN: but mostly it always felt like my dad’s house? JOHN: and when i started living there after i moved out of here, it was like i crammed myself back into whatever was left of my kid self? JOHN: and it didn’t feel good, but it at least was familiar, you know? JOHN: like living there let me feel closer to my dad, trying to be like the way i remember him, or like how i remember him wanting me to be, or something? JOHN: and i didn’t realize how much i hated doing that until i saw it all go up in flames. JOHN: so i guess i could have used my powers to stop the fire and save whatever was left of the place, but i couldn’t bring myself to do it. JOHN: like some fucked up part of me was glad i got there too late? JOHN: so i just sat there, watching, trying to figure out why watching my house burn down felt like i was being released from prison. JOHN: and even now i keep trying to explain it away, as though it’s because of how fucked up everything else is that it made me feel good. JOHN: but that’s just bullshit. JOHN: it DID feel good. JOHN: i DO feel free. JOHN: sorry.

I was kind of saying some Breath/Blood stuff at the time of him losing his last tie to his stubborn sticking-to-his-kid-self bit?  Except now we’re mixing it in with June Egbert and his gender-identity questions too.

ROXY: no need 2 apologize ROXY: we just delved in2 my whole gender thing last time so it seems fine for u to have a turn JOHN: i didn’t say it was a gender thing.

Oh shit

ROXY: well no i just meant like i did some sharing ROXY: like referrin 2 the topic i brought up when we chatted last ROXY: but like now that u mention it ROXY: *meaningful pause* JOHN: … JOHN: i JOHN: ROXY: lol well we can move on 2 the favor part if youd rather ROXY: stick a lil pin in that topic n come back 2 it when u have had sleep

Are you just INCREDIBLY incisive Roxy or have you and John talked about this before?

ROXY: like i said the other day its not like this shits figureoutable in 1 sitting anyways JOHN: yeah... ROXY: sooooooo ROXY: movin on

It’s just fine for Roxy to slow-roll this yeah, if she’s going to pry open that door a little

ROXY: dont be mad but theres a part of the house u didnt know abt the whole time u lived here JOHN: what? ROXY: yea ROXY: i got a secret lair ROXY: for my sciences

OH FUCK YES SCIENCE LAB, of COURSE Roxy would want a cool science lab basement because she always wants a cool science lab basement

ROXY: and i get to it via a transportalizer underneath our bed ROXY: which is 2 heavy 2 move by my lonesome so i just needed to borrow some o your aforementioned powers of wind

Okay no.  Wait.  What the fuck?

First of all, as funny and MSPaintAdventures-y as furniture being in the way of things is, why would you block it with a bed too heavy to move, but,

Second of all, more importantly, how is a GOD-TIER ROXY not strong enough to lift a heavy bed?!?!?!?  Either she’s lying to get John involved in things or this is a gendered cop-out because these characters are superheroes at the TOP of their echeladders, given obnoxiously powerful video-game strength and athletics only to then have ascended into DEITIES.  God-Tier Roxy could probably have lifted a bed like that when she was SEVENTEEN!  And now she’s an ADULT, out-of-shape or otherwise!  If this were a whole CAR I might be willing to handwave it, but just a heavy BED?!?  And none of the GUYS are going to have this much trouble lifting a bed like this, are they??  This just feels like following classic cartoony gender tropes in the complete absence of these characters’ super powers, what the fuck, and also Roxy if you didn’t make it Transportalizer-only access you could have given it an entrance you could phase through with your fancy powers to get to.  FUCK.

This feels stupid.

ROXY: so if u dont mind woosh away JOHN: uh ok, well... JOHN: a secret science lair, sure, i can deal with that. JOHN: why not! JOHN: it doesn’t work out great when i do the windy thing indoors, though. ROXY: aight then no wind bending just use your mangrit

Roxy flexes, the corner of her mouth pulled up into a familiar grin. John feels his guts, so recently calmed, twist up into knots again. Her eyebrows shoot up and the smile loosens. He must have shown something on his face.

You’re already THIS sensitive about gendertalk?

ROXY: ok or just like push when i push ROXY: we both got sick muscles ROXY: no other adjectives necessary JOHN: yeah ok. ROXY: on 3?

Please, please reinforce the idea that they both have sick strength, because they fucking do and the idea that Roxy actually a hundred percent NEEDED John to do this is BS.

> (==>)

JOHN: holy shit? ROXY: sorry to lop yet another huge scoop onto ur lil brains ice cream revelation sundae JOHN: so wait, if this thing's always been under the bed, how’d you get down here before without me? ROXY: well thats neither here nor there john JOHN: i mean it is kinda. Here. ROXY: fine ok checkmate ROXY: i dont ACTUALLY need ur nerdgrit for this escapade ROXY: like im sorry but i said it ROXY: i mostly just wanted to see you and show u wats down here

THANK FUCKING CHRIST.

If that wasn’t actually just a lie to get him involved I was going to stay SO mad.  Of COURSE Roxy can move a fucking BED no matter how heavy it is.  OF COURSE.

ROXY: and also uve been ~sent for~ JOHN: ok but like ROXY: john i am inviting u 2 my inner sanctum ROXY: i am literally bringing out the word "sanctum" in case u werent already clued in 2 how cool this is ROXY: so do u wanna go into my secret lair or wat JOHN: yeah!? JOHN: yes? i guess? ROXY: aight good

Yes John of course you want to stop fighting it

ROXY: then as they told me in the hospital before lil h a was born ROXY: just push

eyeroll, but yeah, of course

> (==>)

Oh cool, sprite form version of her loungewear.

> (==>)

Sorry for my compulsion to post every full-frame image of Roxy in this awesome outfi-WERE YOU KEEPING CALLIOPE UNDER YOUR BED THIS WHOLE TIME?!?????

That’s like... almost a fucking metaphor isn’t it????  For the relationship you preferred in the other timeline and possibly THIS one TOO or

ROXY: hey callieee i got him ROXY: o damn john sorry i shoulda also told u callies here weve been hangin out again ROXY: 1 more freak for ur bean

Oh huh, so this isn’t an always thing.  And these two can get close in more than one timeline where it would’ve worked out nicely.  :)

JOHN: oh it's ok, my bean feels pretty well adjusted to freakage at this point so keep them coming if you like! ROXY: k cool i will JOHN: do i get to know what that big thing under the sheet is? ROXY: hmmmmmm no JOHN: oh ok. JOHN: are you sure? i mean, it seems like a pretty prominent feature of the room. JOHN: space. JOHN: wherever we are. ROXY: and a totally mysterious n COMPLETELY inconspicuous feature it will have to remain for now ROXY: we r kinda in a hurry here fyi ROXY: and by that i mean ROXY: we are in precisely the amount of hurry that means im excused from having to a that specific q rn JOHN: right, sorry. JOHN: i will pay no attention to the object behind the curtain. ROXY: u catch on fast egbert ROXY: anyway theres more cool info coming so just follow me

I don’t have any big theories.  Is it just the Hiveswap device or something?  If Calliope helped with it it’d help explain the Cherubic theme.

> (==>)

JOHN: so... this is all downstairs? JOHN: it seems like you had a lot of work done. ROXY: well no not x actly ROXY: were in the old meteor JOHN: under the house??? ROXY: ok so ROXY: in hindsight it may have been a bit misleading 2 say like ROXY: "downstairs" ROXY: in reference to a place which is hells of buried underground and may not actually be literally under the house ROXY: but there is no time to explain all that rn john so instead im going to refer u to my adorable little green friend here CALLIOPE: #U_U# ROXY: (hehe) CALLIOPE: *AHEM* CALLIOPE: hi john! CALLIOPE: long time no see. ^u^

Cherubs just really like dark cavelike places full of weird tech don’t they.

> (==>)

THEY’RE SO CUTE

JOHN: oh, uh. hey callie! JOHN: it sure has been a while huh. JOHN: now that i think about it, the last time the three of us hung out like this... CALLIOPE: was when i was aggressively third wheeling yoUr prenUptial coUrtship? CALLIOPE: if yoU dont mind, john, i'd rather not rehash that period of oUr lives. CALLIOPE: it was more than a little painfUl for me. JOHN: oh. JOHN: god, jeez, i'm sorry. i didn't mean to-- CALLIOPE: hee hee john i am only pUlling yoUr leg, don't worry. CALLIOPE: if anything i was personally a little thrilled with how things shook oUt in that respect. CALLIOPE: imagine, if yoU will, a yoUng cherUb raised in solitUde, whose only solace was the convolUted and tUmUltUoUs romantic schemata she projected onto her only friends from another Universe. CALLIOPE: and then fUrther imagine that this yoUng cherUb, throUgh varioUs even *more* convolUted contrivances, ended Up in the company of those selfsafe friends as an eqUal participant in their sphere of social discoUrse! CALLIOPE: it is a joy the like of which yoU possibly cannot fathom. u_u

Reinforcing that things turning out this way was in fact the FANTASY that Calliope was writing over in the Canon timeline.  Just, heavily, HEAVILY implied that the Candy timeline is -- or at least originated as -- Calliope’s fanfiction as a Muse of Space, and its competition for audience interest with canon is the essential conflict between alt!Calliope and Dirk (or Dirk and Andrew Hussie).

CALLIOPE: so to pUt it simply, getting to experience sUch emotional drama myself was an impossibly enriching experience. CALLIOPE: possibly a first for my species! CALLIOPE: it's actUally qUite interesting, if yoU ROXY: *nudge* CALLIOPE: oh, right. yes. i'm getting a little carried away, haha. CALLIOPE: argh, i'm sorry, this is not how i planned to begin this vital conversation.

Vital conversation?  What sorta truth-bombs are coming?

CALLIOPE: but to sUmmarise, what i was trying to say is: CALLIOPE: don't beat yourself Up aboUt it john. CALLIOPE: besides, hUman divorces are even more fascinating than i had ever imagined, and being able to witness yoUrs in motion was an honoUr. CALLIOPE: so i consider Us aboUt even at this point. JOHN: hahaha!!! JOHN: okay, well that's good to know! CALLIOPE: ^u^

Holy SHIT that was savage!  And we’ll NEVER know whether or not she really intended it so savagely, either.~

JOHN: so um... JOHN: i hear that there's this big secret thing you wanna tell me about? CALLIOPE: oh right, yes of course! CALLIOPE: let me jUst say first of all how thrilled i am that yoU're on board. CALLIOPE: i wasn't sUre if yoUr natUral inclinations woUld have preclUded yoUr coming to such a place as this, and yet here yoU are. CALLIOPE: this whole endeavoUr will be *so* mUch easier with yoUr help.

Uh oh.

Hopefully babies aren’t involved.

JOHN: oh! well, shucks. JOHN: not really sure what that means but i'm just glad to be of use somewhere, haha. JOHN: which, speaking of somewhere, CALLIOPE: ah right, right. yoU're probably a little cUrioUs as to where the dickens we are. CALLIOPE: how much do yoU know aboUt black holes? JOHN: um... like, the big space things? CALLIOPE: they aren't always big actUally, and in fact their relative smallness is practically their defining qUality. JOHN: oh. CALLIOPE: bUt okay i think we are on the same page. CALLIOPE: so, what if i told yoU that we are inside of a black hole right now.

Oh dear, we’re getting into the canon/noncanon divide?

JOHN: um... JOHN: like, HERE? JOHN: we just transportalized into a black hole? CALLIOPE: no, i mean, what if oUr whole WORLD was inside a black hole. JOHN: ok.

Yeah, that’s gonna be John’s reaction.  “ok.”  Pretty much inevitable.

CALLIOPE: earth c, or at least oUr version of it, has, from the moment we crossed the victory threshold, been inside a black hole. JOHN: ok. CALLIOPE: and not just any black hole, bUt the very black hole in which the green sUn Ultimately met its demise, allowing oUr victory in the first instance! JOHN: huh! ROXY: ("huh!") ROXY: (rofl my fucking ao egbert) JOHN: (shhhh!)

And Roxy enjoys his non-reaction reactions as much as we do, hehe.

CALLIOPE: bUt, paradoxically, the critical moment which determined its capture within the black hole happened *after* that point. CALLIOPE: i refer of coUrse to yoUr decision not to retUrn to the mediUm and fight my brother. JOHN: wait, wait. JOHN: you mean, the meat and candy thing? JOHN: oh my god. JOHN: you mean i actually DID make a mistake that day. CALLIOPE: well, that's not exactly what that-- JOHN: ugh, i fucking KNEW it! JOHN: i'm so sorry. JOHN: i'm so sorry that i put the earth inside a black hole everyone. ): ROXY: john ROXY: listen ROXY: u have got to get out of this mindset i am begging you JOHN: ):

Yeah shake him out of this shit.

ROXY: your choice literally didnt matter ROXY: the whole thing was symbolic in the first place ROXY: literally symbolic in the case of the picnic i mean come on ROXY: it was just some steak and a plate of candy suckers JOHN: oh. CALLIOPE: i mean, i wouldn't go so far as to say that the meal we shared was unimportant, given the sacred significance of the two options i presented. CALLIOPE: but yes, yoUr choice of snack was infinitely less important than the choice which it presaged. CALLIOPE: and even then, calling it a choice woUld be sorely misleading. CALLIOPE: think of it like a coin flip. CALLIOPE: the series of events that led to Us being trapped beyond the event horizon of an Ubermassive black hole could be considered "tails", while the events which would have occUrred otherwise could be considered "heads". CALLIOPE: since both were possible, and paradox space is the way it is, they actUally both happened. and we jUst "happened" (hee hee) to get tails instead of heads. JOHN: you mean we ended up with the bad possibility. CALLIOPE: not at all! since both possibilities depend on one another's existence, it really doesn't make sense to call them "right" or "wrong". they both just "are". JOHN: o...kay... CALLIOPE: u_u

Yeah, it’s going to take a bit more than that to convince him he didn’t make the “wrong decision”.

CALLIOPE: i realise that this may be a lot to process. CALLIOPE: it's easy to forget that this wasn't obvioUs to everyone from the beginning. CALLIOPE: anyway, the reason i went on this tangent in the first place was to explain that the space we are standing in right now has a special significance, in that it is the location which corresponds to the black hole's singUlarity. JOHN: oh, wow. JOHN: um. JOHN: ok so, sorry if this is a dumb question to ask suddenly, but what does being inside of a black hole actually... mean for us? JOHN: is that bad? JOHN: is it like in movie, um, JOHN: shoot. JOHN: roxy what was that matthew mcconaughey movie from your earth that we watched? ROXY: u mean interstellar JOHN: RIGHT. JOHN: the one with the organ. JOHN: man. i cried at that movie so much. ROXY: lol u can say that again ROXY: iirc at least part of y u got so weepy was the fact that u couldnt believe a version of earth existed where ppl got 2 watch more mcconaughey films than you JOHN: listen. JOHN: i simply don't think you all appreciated the gift you were given. CALLIOPE: i don't believe i'm familiar with this particular film ^u^;; ROXY: oh dont worry cal you didnt miss much JOHN: (gasp)

This is all gold

ROXY: but the important point is that no its not really an interstellar type situation here egbert ROXY: ur not gonna enter a weird time vortex and change the trajectory of a little girls life with the power of love JOHN: aw.

Dammit, now we have to be on the lookout for that possibility.  Or it did sort of already happen more than once to John.  ...Whatever.

CALLIOPE: to go back to your original question, john. CALLIOPE: it's not strictly speaking "bad" for Us to be inside of a black hole, mUch thoUgh that contradicts most of what anyone knows about them. CALLIOPE: of coUrse, if we had fallen into it, that woUld be a whole other kettle of fish. CALLIOPE: the tidal forces woUld have stretched Us all into spaghetti and then ripped us apart! CALLIOPE: bUt the natUre of oUr arrival was more akin to simply "being" here, sUddenly. one moment we were not, and the next moment we were, and somehow always had been. CALLIOPE: in everyday, practical terms, being inside of a black hole has very little bearing on Us. CALLIOPE: i mean, the natUre of space and time is a little finicky in here, bUt for the most part it doesn't seem to be anything too oUt of the ordinary. CALLIOPE: bUt beyond that, it means that we are sealed away from the rest of existence. CALLIOPE: oUr sphere of inflUence is limited to the sphere of the black hole's bounding horizon. CALLIOPE: as far as everyone else is concerned, we might as well not even exist! JOHN: is there no way we could let anyone know that we're in here...? CALLIOPE: almost certainly not!

No?  So this doesn’t have to do with the divide?

CALLIOPE: there are very few ways for anything to escape the kind of predicament that we are in right now. one of them is to be an all-powerfUl being with control over the very fabric of space, with the energy of two Universes at yoUr disposal. CALLIOPE: in which case, escape woUld become rather trivial, if a little Unscientific. JOHN: ok. i am going to assume that we can't just do that. CALLIOPE: yoU've hit the nail on the head, UnfortUnately. U_U CALLIOPE: the method i described was the one employed by my alternate self, who yoU may recall crashed through the event horizon in the body that once belonged to jade harley. CALLIOPE: she departed through a pUnctUre she created in the black hole's surface shortly after consUming my brother, a deed which provided her with the necessary "oomph", and which was frankly rather breathtaking to watch. =u= CALLIOPE: bUt Upon her departUre, the rift closed for good. as far as i can see, there's simply no way for Us to commUnicate with the world oUtside the black hole.

What the heck?  Calliope SAW all this?  Is this her Muse powers at work, letting her observe these things, or was she there?  And John certainly did NOT see ANY of what Calliope just said happen.

CALLIOPE: i woUld certainly be very sUrprised to find oUt that anyone had managed sUch a thing!

So we’re going to find that out if we haven’t already.  Maybe something to do with the way Vrissy just conks out narcoleptically?

JOHN: ...right. JOHN: so... let me just get this straight. JOHN: knowing that we're inside of a black hole... does that actually change anything? JOHN: like, can't we just go on living like normal? CALLIOPE: oh absolUtely not. CALLIOPE: i don't know if yoU've noticed john bUt this world is on the brink of a total cataclysm. JOHN: oh.

Um, what?

CALLIOPE: oUr exclUsion from the overarching coUrse of events which governs all reality means that oUr existence here is liable to dramatic and violent Upheaval. CALLIOPE: to pUt it another way, becaUse nothing in here "matters", we are likely to be sUbjected to things which are a bit bats in the belfry, for no reason other than it's totally insignificant to the wider canon of reality. CALLIOPE: and mUch thoUgh i am personally titillated by some of the conseqUences of this predicament, it is a degrading way for Us to live. u_u JOHN: that's... certainly one way to put it, yeah...

No plot-armor for your entire timeline, I guess, yep.  Outside of canon, we can imagine and write about ANYTHING happening to the characters, or just drop their existence entirely, much like a doomed offshoot timeline.  It’s a plot stability that depended heavily on the threat of Lord English and being trapped in a story, and without it things are bound to see a BIT chaotic (or “degrading” if you view it as subjected to the whims of fanfic writers, certainly).

CALLIOPE: at first, i believed that this was simply necessary. Us playing tails to oUr coUnterparts' heads, the black to their white, and so forth. CALLIOPE: bUt over the years i have come to the conclUsion that this is simply not kosher. ROXY: its total bs is what it is CALLIOPE: right, yes. CALLIOPE: a steaming pile of bUllshite. CALLIOPE: and so we have decided that something needs to be done aboUt it.

Ah fuck.  You’re going to regulate non-canon?  “Canonize” it?  Is the fact that you eventually succeed at whatever it is you’re trying to do part of why we have the story presented to us in this bifurcated structure?

ROXY: this is finally where u come in jegbert ROXY: we gots quests for yous CALLIOPE: hee hee, yes. CALLIOPE: or *a* quest, to be specific. JOHN: oh boy! ROXY: (this fkin nerd i s2g)

Roxy and Calliope setting him on this quest as a Rogue of Void and a Muse of Space feels fitting.

JOHN: i'm not sure how i can go about freeing us from a hellish space prison, but i'm up for giving it a try i guess? JOHN: i have... literally nothing better to be doing at this point. except for maybe hanging out with harry anderson. ROXY: nice save lol

YEAH WE’RE STILL GLOSSING OVER HOW YOU LEFT HIM UNPROTECTED, JERK

ROXY: but u dont need to worry abt busting us outta space jail tbh ROXY: thats not ur problem to fix JOHN: oh. JOHN: i'm... not sure i follow, then. ROXY: i mean yeah ur gonna obvs facilitate it in a sense ROXY: but only by going and busting the person who can actually help us outta normal earth jail CALLIOPE: we need yoU to free vriska from the clUtches of oUr misgUided friend jane, and bring her here, to the singUlarity. ROXY: weve been calling it the plot point CALLIOPE: yes, the plot point is a key part of oUr plan. CALLIOPE: as far as we have been able to sUrmise, the only remaining method for escaping oUr grim confinement depends on leveraging the UniqUe properties of this location to create an event of sUch catalcysmic proportions that it simply cannot be contained within the black hole any more. CALLIOPE: something SO dramatic, so hyper-relevant, that it becomes ontologically impossible for anyone to ignore it. CALLIOPE: for that, we need an individUal of sUfficient narrative cloUt, so to speak. CALLIOPE: and to liberate her, who better than the embodiment of the aspect of freedom itself? CALLIOPE: ... CALLIOPE: phew. okay, i'm finished. CALLIOPE: CALLIOPE: sorry, that took longer than i expected to go throUgh.

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

OOooooh, kay.

Whatever this is, it’s going to be really weird and PROBABLY infuriating and/or shippy, and I’m probably not going to like it.  Plus it seems like it’s some sort of inverse belated canonization of some other black-hole-rescue theories I went on about at some point.  Although, related to that link, “aspect of freedom” if anyone wasn’t paying attention!  That’s a (sorta-)canon mention of the purpose of it!

They’re going to attention-wh-- attention-hog themselves out of the black hole so that they’re “considered canon” too, or close enough.  Huh.

ROXY: what r u talking about cals that was great ROXY: i could listen 2 u plotsplain for years CALLIOPE: oh you >u< ROXY: fyi this was why i wanted u to get a move on eggbread ROXY: so callie could have more time 2 infodump ROXY: thats love bitchhhhhh JOHN: hahaha. JOHN: ok, well, i think i understood all that?

Love with who? Callie, John, both?

In reality, John isn’t sure what most of this means. But on balance, it feels okay? He’s gone back and forth about a hundred times in the last week about where his place in everything is, so he might as well ride this out. Plus, the last time a Lalonde kind of told him to do something, he thinks that he chose not to, and look where that got him. And it’s not like he has other plans. He may as well do this! It’s at least going to get him involved in things again, if nothing else. He turns to go, and then hears a sound. It’s the sound of feet and knocking on doors, echoed through stone and digital static.

Oh shit.  Is Andrew trapped behind some fourth walls behind the curtains.

> (==>)

Oh RIGHT also that DEVICE is where they want to bring Vriska.  Are they going to overturn part of canon itself with a super-retcon thus making this timeline unbelievably relevant or--?  Maybe make all the PESTERQUESTS canon or something?!  I don’t know.  Maybe they’re INTENTIONALLY starting the game like Vriska wanted to??????

Guh, this is something so big that I don’t WANT to theorize about it, do I.

JOHN: did you hear that? ROXY: wha ROXY: oh yeah uh ROXY: i may have messaged rose and kan and jade to check on them too ROXY: so its prob onea them showin up ROXY: they don’t need to know bout all this tho ROXY: we got time to chat with them b4 u go get vriska

No, even if it’s a knock at the somehow-top-level-house-even-under-buried-- oh, right, maybe it’s covering in part a monitoring system that looks up there.  But still, part of that sound was DOUBTLESS these two hiding something, all standing in front of the curtain like that.

JOHN: i’ll go stall em. ROXY: thx babe ROXY: oh is it 2 soon for that joke or JOHN: no, weirdly enough, that one’s fine. ROXY: oh good ok see u up there soon!

How is calling your significant other “babe” not cool REGARDLESS of gender?!  Like wasn’t that always cool? --Oh wait is it because they’re not together or... but... guh, I don’t know.

Anyway, see y’all after the holidays at least.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Written In The Stars CXXV (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: A bit of relief for your troubled hearts -Danny

Words: 3,265 

Series Masterlist 

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Listen to: ‘The Hurt Game’ -by The Script

Chapter Twenty-Three: Truce.

It was chaos after Emily and Sirius broke the news about the baby. 

The adults got closer to Emily and the young ones attacked Mel with thousands of questions. She tried to answer as best as she could knowing as little as she did. Then, after a few minutes, Sirius spoke again.

"Okay, okay!" He said loudly. "There's still one more thing we have to do! Mel, come here..."

Mel approached them, Sirius went to the pantry and came back holding a very large and thin box.

"Bet you were wondering where our Christmas present was," He smirked.

"Oh!" Mel chuckled. "I thought the whole news about the baby had distracted you from getting one, didn't think much about it..."

"Well, the baby was unexpected," Sirius admitted, his eyes hinting at something that he was very careful not to show in public. "But we would never forget about you! Especially after the news of you getting a place on the team!"

"Beater, no less!" Emily beamed. "You have it in your blood, Mel. I was so happy when I found out..."

"We also realized you didn't have a proper instrument to beat them all," Sirius smiled. "So here it is. I had to nag your mother until she let me use my vault to get it. Consider this my gift to you after fourteen years of nothing."

"You didn't," She said breathlessly.

"Open it!" The twins urged her.

Mel ripped the paper and dismantled the box with trembling, anxious hands. A brand new firebolt laid between the mess, begging to be used.

"Bloody hell!" She exclaimed, then looked up at Sirius and her mother. "Are you trying to win me over? There was no need to buy me a broomstick, you're family already!"

Sirius let out a joyful laugh. "Make sure you win in your future games or I'll regret buying you such a broom..."

"Mel's a great player," Ginny assured them, her eyes glued to the broom. "You're going to let me try it, Mel? You have to!"

"Of course I will!" Mel smiled. "Thank you so much!"

"Oh don't thank me, I wanted to give you a simple broom, but Remus and Sirius pestered me until I let them buy this one."

"My uncle?" Mel looked at the man standing in a corner of the room. "But you already gave me a present!"

"I didn't help them with money," Remus brushed it off. "I was the one who went to the bank and got it, Tonks helped me get the broom. Would've been suspicious if a man like me entered and bought the most expensive one in the market."

"It was the biggest pleasure to get that for you, Mel," Tonks admitted. "When I saw Harry's I fell in love with it, and yours is just as breathtaking!"

At the mention of the boy, Mel realized he'd been quiet the whole hour. She looked around the room and managed to get a glimpse of his figure as he left the room.

She made up the excuse of wanting to go and put the broom away herself, so the rest of them let her do it while they set the table to have dinner and Mel abandoned the kitchen, the firebolt firmly held with both her hands.

She found Harry on the second floor as he was leaving the bathroom, his face wet and the tips of his hair sticking to his forehead. He stopped as soon as he saw her. Mel looked down at her new broom and spoke timidly.

"I don't know if I'm a good player, but I promise as soon as we go back I'll practice tons..."

Harry looked down at the broom and then up at her face, a tense smile appearing on his features.

"Brilliant!" He said, using his fake joyful voice. "That's great, really... you... you're a fast learner, you'll be fine— Congrats about the baby," Harry cleared his throat, eyes darting from her broom to the walls. "You're about to find out how it feels, then..."

"What?"

"Having a family," He explained, "when we were twelve you told me you were curious about the things you were missing— Well, now you'll be able to find out..."

Mel was abruptly aware of how much she'd gotten living in Grimmauld place, and how much Harry had lost since June. She had forgotten about that conversation until now. Harry didn't mention the rest, the part where he'd said something about them being family, always together.

It felt like decades had gone by ever since that night at the burrow; but to her, it hurt just the same.

"Of course," He continued coldly. "I also remember saying that you didn't have such an awful life to start with, and that's still true. You got a place on the team, a sibling, a dad," He grimaced when he said it, but continued anyway, "lots of friends... a boyfriend—"

"Don't start this now."

"I'm not trying to start anything," He pushed, "I'm trying to make you see I wasn't wrong."

"What are you talking about?"

"It was me who was holding you back," He said with conviction. "I tried to tell you last June but you ignored me— I'm not trying to make you feel guilty, honest— I'm... I'm happy that things went well for you in the end."

What caught her off guard was the tone of sincerity on his voice, there was no double meaning to this, no hidden insults between the lines. Harry was truly trying.

"Thank you," She said. "I don't think you were holding me back, though. We were kids, and it was just the two of us for a long time... I understand why we acted the way we did. We were afraid of being alone."

"But you're not anymore. Alone, I mean."

"Neither are you."

"I s'pose not," He lowered his gaze. "Still... I think it'd be better for everyone if I were... you know..."

"Well, that proves that growing doesn't necessarily make you smarter," She replied, a small smile playing on her lips.

Harry didn't smile back, but her calm attitude seemed to edge him to continue.

"You have to know— What I said the other day..."

"You didn't mean it?" She offered tiredly.

"No... I mean, not all of it," He frowned. "When Sirius said Erick reminded him of his young brother I... I thought that Sirius was going to replace me, or something stupid like that— And I got angry at you because you convinced him to bring him here..."

This was the most Harry had talked to her in weeks, she found herself unable to move until he finished his speech.

"But I was ungrateful. You saved me, Mel. I made you feel bad about helping me because I was feeling awful about having to steal parts of you... but you have to know I was lying."

"What's the truth, then?"

"The part about you not being fully honest," He sighed. "Honestly, Mel, how did you think I was going to react? You liking Fred, befriending Erick...  I would've helped you, and I wouldn't have worried about Fred because in the end you—" His voice faltered, "in the end you chose me."

She didn't know if this was the best moment to be talking about it, but she was sure that she didn't want to leave the conversation unfinished. Mel dragged him inside her room, leaving the broom on the bed and taking her time to gather her feelings.

"I guess I was afraid you would push me away," She started. "You were my only friend for so long— and then the world got wider so quickly— I was afraid of saying the wrong thing and ending up alone in a place I didn't know... I tried so hard to be the perfect friend that I ended up being... not me."

"But you were a good—"

"My point is," She interrupted him, "I had good intentions, but I did it all wrong. We both did."

"Yeah," He kicked a piece of wrapping paper that was near him. "I guess that sums it up."

Mel moved towards the door, but she didn't leave.

"I was being honest when I said I did it all for you, but I also did it for myself. I wanted to prove that I was a worthy Dumbledore."

"I think you've done a good job so far..." He admitted. "Truce?"

Mel hesitated, she was feeling lighter now, but their relationship was far from okay, she was certain that they would find a way to continue arguing about stupid things, but now the air felt less charged. Yes, Mel was sure that she wasn't crushing on him anymore, but she was also convinced that she wasn't ready to start over.

"I think it's too soon," She started carefully, "because... well... I still look at you and wish I could throw something at your face."

The corners of his mouth went up, but only slightly.

"I don't want to hate you," Mel said quietly. "And even though none of us wants to listen to Dumbledore, we should probably stick together if we want to get rid of Umbridge. So as long as you promise that you won't rat me out, or underestimate my decisions, I promise I won't be a git to you. Deal?"

"I think it's a good way to start," He nodded, staring at her with a bit of his old softness back.

Mel turned to leave the room, but before she could close the door behind her, Harry called her name one last time.

"If we don't find a way to really fix things..." He fidgeted with the edge of his shirt. "I should probably tell you that I was also lying when I broke things off. I said I didn't like you," He laughed bitterly. "But I did. I really, really liked you."

Kreacher appeared in the attic, but there was something about the way he would carry himself around the house that made her feel he was hiding something. He wasn't as grumpy as before, and sometimes Mel would catch him staring eagerly at Harry as if waiting to see him burst into flames.

As the holidays came to an end, Sirius grew a bit grumpy, he was still happy about the baby, but more often than not he would retreat to spend the afternoons alone. Her mother confided in her one morning that there had been a huge fight between the two adults when they first found out about their kid.

Having a baby wasn't ideal during these times, it was dangerous. Sirius went mad, saying he wasn't father material and they couldn't, by any means, carry the pregnancy to its end.

Emily was tired of putting her life on hold. She'd been waiting for her whole life, she was ready to move on. She wanted to have the baby. Mel had never been destined to be an only child and now she had the opportunity to fix that, and with a wonderful man. It wasn't perfect, Sirius had tried his best to convince her, but Emily had made her mind.

Mel felt silly about not thinking of all the risks. She'd been so excited about the idea of a family that everything else had just stopped existing; but she also believed that her mother had lived through enough and, at the same time, she hadn't lived at all. If this baby meant fulfilment for her, then Mel had no objections, and she would do her best to protect them.

Snape visited on the last day, saying he wanted to talk to Harry. 'Dumbledore's orders' he'd sneered. Erick stayed in the drawing-room, he didn't want Snape to see him. He claimed it had nothing to do with feeling embarrassed about his situation, but at the end of the day, he was a Slytherin living with Weasleys, a Potter, a Black traitor and a Dumbledore. Snape was known to be unfair, and Erick didn't want to lose Snape's favour.

The twins teased him endlessly, Mel could see it was annoying and a bit contradicting for them, have taken a liking to a person with such high esteem towards Snape. What they didn't understand was that Erick didn't appreciate Snape, he just wanted to keep his good reputation going. Which was a clear confirmation that Erick would go back to Hogwarts.

"What made you change your mind?" She asked him.

"Well, you know the day we went to visit Mr Weasley? I went to the bathroom and I ran into one of my father's friends. He's a healer at St. Mungo's."

"Do you think he told them?"

"They haven't said a word to anyone," Erick said. "I lied and said I was leaving a donation my Grandad had left for the hospital. He gave me his condolences and didn't even ask how I was there on my own leaving money when I'm underage— I suppose he doesn't even know I'm sixteen."

"What are you two whispering about?" Fred jumped over the couch and sat next to Mel.

"You think your parents are going to pretend you switched schools?" Mel asked once they explained everything to their friend.

"I think they would if I don't show up at school..."

"But you're going back," She smiled. "I know that look, you're already making plans..."

"Well, if my parents are the cowards I know," He started, his mind doing quiet calculations. "That means they won't try anything while I'm there, and my Grandad left me a considerable amount of money, but I can't use it until I'm seventeen—"

"Which you'll be next week," Fred replied. "Does that mean you're still rich?"

Mel hit his chest lightly. "That's none of your business!"

"I don't have half of my school stuff anyway," Erick scoffed. "I left all my books and robes back home..."

"What's up?" George walked in. "Why aren't you trying to listen to whatever Snape is telling Harry?"

"Because Snape's vague all the time," Mel rolled her eyes. "We won't find out anything."

"Erick is thinking about going back to school," Fred told his brother. "But he's whining about not having robes and equipment."

"Why do you want to go back?" George made a face of disgust. "You got away! You can do anything you want!"

"I can't," Erick raised a brow. "I need to finish my studies if I want to fulfil my goals."

"Well, we can give you our old books," Fred shrugged.

Erick's eyes analyzed the boy's face carefully. "What?"

"I'm pretty sure that the books you guys are using are the same we used except for Umbridge's..."

"But you don't have the books here, do you?"

"Of course not," George snorted. "But we can ask our mum to send them once she's back at the burrow."

"Hermione and I have plenty of spare supplies," Mel smiled. "Ink, parchment... We got you, Prince."

Erick stared at them unblinkingly, his brow furrowed.

"Why are you helping me? I understand it coming from Mel, but why are you two helping me?"

George laughed, and that only confused Erick further.

"You're one of us now, aren't you? If you want to go back to school, you'll go back on both feet."

"Not that we understand your undying love for homework," Fred shivered, "but you've helped us before, this is the least we can do, mate."

"See?" Mel beamed. "You don't have to worry about anything!"

The concept seemed to blow Erick's mind, he'd spent so many years doing everything alone that the Weasleys' support was overwhelming. He wasn't easy to break, but she definitely saw something threatening to ruin his reputation of tough, cold Slytherin peering at the corner of his eyes.

Shouts coming from the kitchen brought all of them back to the present.

"Well, look at that," George said reproachfully. "It seems that something interesting did happen."

The four of them left the room in a hurry, on queue, the front door opened and Mr Weasley and Tonks walked in, but the latter left a second after she made sure Mr Weasley was safe and sound on the main hall of the house. Mrs Weasley, unaware of the fight happening downstairs, came to welcome her husband. Ginny, Hermione and Ron all three appeared at the top of the stairs as well.

The small group shared an anxious look and Erick asked quietly.

"Should we tell them?"

"Er..." Fred pointed towards his parents with a tentative smile. "I think they're about to find out..."

They were walking towards the kitchen, closely followed by the kids. The twins, Mel and Erick accompanied them as well, eager to see what was going on.

"Feels good to be back!" Mr Weasley was saying loudly as he moved forward. "Cured! Completely cured!" He pushed the door open and revealed the scene ahead.

Turns out not only Snape and Harry were there. Sirius and Emily had stayed in the room and now Sirius was pointing his wand at Snape, Harry was standing between the two men, his arms stretched out to keep them apart while Emily was standing across the table not knowing what to do. The four of them stared back at the group of people.

"Merlin's beard," Mr Weasley said in shock, "what's going on here?"

Mel realized Erick was still beside her and she pulled the twins to stand in front of him, completely hiding his figure. Snape lowered his wand and put it away, he walked past, failing to notice the hidden person between Fred and George. He turned around one last time to look at Harry.

"Six o'clock Monday evening, Potter."

Sirius had a murderous look on his face, Emily walked up to him and snatched the wand out of his hand.

"But what's been going on?" asked Mr Weasley once more.

"Nothing, Arthur, just a friendly little chat between two old school friends..."

Emily clicked her tongue but sat back down and said nothing, leaving Sirius' wand on the table.

"So... you're cured?" Sirius smiled tensely. "That's great news, really great..."

"Yes, isn't it?" said Mrs Weasley. "Healer Smethwyck worked his magic in the end, found an antidote to whatever that snake's got in its fangs, and Arthur's learned his lesson about dabbling in Muggle medicine, haven't you, dear?"

"Yes, Molly dear," Mr Weasley replied quietly.

Harry explained to them shortly what had transpired between the two men, Snape was there to tell him about his future occlumency lessons, but in the end, Snape had found Sirius' weak spot and pocked it until Sirius got tired, it was obvious that he was fed up with how everyone was doing something but him. Harry also mentioned that Snape somehow knew about Emily's pregnancy.

"It got out of control after that," Harry made a face. "Snape said that Sirius and Emily were being irresponsible, he said they hadn't grown up if they were having a baby during these times... He told Emily she should've known better... the way he said it made it sound like she was left to watch after a wild beast, and he hinted that Sirius' baby was bound to be the same..."

"What a rat," Mel growled. "Who does he think he is?"

"A big fat git," said Erick.

The group of friends turned to look at him in surprise.

"What? He's a prat, everyone knows that!" He raised a brow. "Don't look at me as if you've never said it!"

"You know, Flint?" Ron replied. "Maybe you're not as annoying as I thought."

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere @t-rexs-world​ @just-here-to-escape-from-reality​ @21bruhs @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @dielgonacoffee​

[let-me-write-shit]

Somebody To You: 7

Friendly reminder to please Like and/or Reblog. It helps more than you think! :)

WARNING: Smut!!! (I put **** before and after so you can skip if you’d like)

Word Count: 2,928

A/N: There’s not too much Harry in this chapter. I thought about combining 7 & 8, but it would have been waayyyyy too long. I’m excited for the next chapter! It’ll be a super fluffy one.

Click Here For Previous Chapter & Other Completed Stories

------------------------------

CHAPTER SEVEN

As much as she tried to hide it, the heartache Zoey felt was impossible to ignore. The first week of June got harder day by day and there were still four days to go until June 9th. One whole year since her best friend died. The week started out okay, for the most part. She was able to fake a smile and pretend to care about what anyone had to say. She was even able to participate in a movie night with her roommates and Brett. But by Friday, Zoey had pretty much distanced herself from everyone.

Andy, of course, knew why she was upset and tried his best to show his understanding by the occasional hug or keeping everyone distracted at work so they didn’t notice her extra breaks, but he knew there was nothing he could say that’d make her feel any better. 

Nancy and Rory could tell something was bothering her, but by the fourth vague reply they received when they asked her what was wrong and if she was okay, they realized that she just didn’t want to talk about it and gave her some space while still finding ways to be the most amazing friends. All week they had been doing little things like buying her flowers, bringing her food, and leaving random sweet notes around the apartment expressing their love for her.

She had even been more distant with Harry, leaving a lot of his texts and calls unanswered. She felt bad because there was so much she wanted to confide in him about. All she wanted to do was talk about Jess, but she was just afraid that if she did, it would make the pain worse. And as understanding and as kind as Harry was, she just didn’t know if she could handle that.

Even Brett was unsure of what to do. In the last two days he’d come over to her place, Zoey made the excuse that she was too tired to hang out, so he wound up spending time with Rory and Nancy instead. She had distanced herself so much that by Friday night at work he didn’t know if they were still going on their date because she hadn’t mentioned anything about it all week. But after a brief conversation with Andy who reminded her not to forget her J-energy, she decided that she could really use the distraction.

Since Zoey worked later than Brett, they decided that they would meet up at the restaurant later after her shift ended. Luckily in LA most bars and restaurants were open all night and into the early hours of the morning, so they had their pick on where to go.

Her body felt heavy on the way up to her apartment, feeling physically and mentally exhausted. She had half a mind to call Brett and cancel their date, but she kept pushing the thought away. She needed to get out. She needed to force herself out of this funk before she spiraled.

Zoey pushed open the front door to her apartment and immediately heard the sound of laughter coming from the living room. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as it sounded like more people than she had anticipated. When she came into view, she stopped in her tracks.

“Oh. Hi. I wasn’t expecting you to be here.”

Brett smiled at her from the couch, “I finished getting ready early and was bored, so I just figured it’d be easier to pick you up from here and just hang out with Rory and Nancy while I waited for you. Is that okay?”

“Oh, yeah, no, that’s fine,” Zoey shook her head, “I’m just going to get changed real quick, and then we can go.”

Zoey smiled tiredly at her friends before bounding to her room. She tossed her bag and phone on the bed and collapsed beside them, blowing out a ton of air and letting her muscles relax into the sheets, closing her eyes for just a minute. A chime sounded from her phone and she reached to grab it, noticing a new text from Harry along with two missed ones. She opened it and read the first text that said ‘Thinking of you. I’m here if you need me.’ The second was a picture of a cat with its face in a slice of bread, and the most recent was a quote from Princess Bride that read ‘For now, rest well and dream of large women’.

Zoey snorted, sitting upright and typing back a simple yellow heart emoji before heading to her closet. She decided on a red swiss dot dress with a plunging neckline paired with nude heels and gold necklaces. She freshened up her makeup a bit and put her ponytail into a neat bun, examining herself in the mirror one last time. Satisfied, she took a deep breath, actually feeling excited about her date with Brett.

As soon as she walked into view, Nancy burst into hoots and hollers, screaming about how good Zoey looked. She was such a good hype-girl and instantly made Zoey feel more confident. Aurora smiled her sweet, freckle-faced smile and said, “Zoey, you look gorgeous!”

“Thank you,” Zoey blushed, feeling loved by her roommates.

Brett stood up and joined her, giving her a little smirk before taking her hand and leading her out towards her car, informing her on which bar and grille he was taking her to and telling her all about the wonderful entrees he’s tried there in the past. The restaurant wasn’t anything fancy. It was a typical bar and grille, something she preferred over the typical five-star restaurants. She just felt more comfortable in this type of environment. Their waiter was clearly new but very nice as he took their food and drink orders, delivering it pretty quickly considering the number of people there, which was surprising for the hour at nearly 1 AM. They continued their conversation about work, laughing about conversations with some of their regulars and joking about their horror stories when they first started in the restaurant industry.

“You know, you really do look amazing tonight,” Brett smirked, eyeing her up and down.

Zoey grinned, taking a sip of her margarita. She had the habit of zoning out whenever Brett talked. Not because she was uninterested in what he had to say, but because accents were her weakness. This food was good and all, but she didn’t want to sit across from him over a meal and talk. All she really wanted was for him to throw her on her bed and pin her down.

Brett reached across the table and took her hand in his, running his thumb along hers as he stared into her face. “Thanks for coming on a date with me tonight.”

Zoey smiled kindly, but paused before speaking, narrowing her eyes slightly, “Brett, what are we doing?”

“What do you mean?” He asked, taken aback.

Harry’s question kept replaying in her mind. What’s the point of going on a date if it’s just a casual thing? The question was valid. What was the point? Before they even got close they discussed the intent of their relations to just be casual. But things were beginning to feel more serious now. Brett was around a lot more, texted and called her more frequently, even when he spent the night in her bed, she found that he would roll over and cuddle with her in the middle of the night. None of these things bothered her in their own right, but friends with benefits didn’t cuddle, did they?

“I mean, why are we on a date?” she repeated.

“Because I like spending time with you.”

“We always spend time together. You’re over all the time, I see you at work, we hang out outside of work. Why did we have to go on a date for you to spend time with me?”

Brett slowly took his hand back and sat up straight, eyes more concerned, “Do you not want to be on a date with me?”

Zoey sighed, worried that she might have just hurt his feelings, “No, Brett, it’s not like that. I’m just confused. I thought that we were just keeping things casual, and this seems a little more than casual.”

Brett was silent for a moment, staring down at his nearly empty plate before looking up, more confident this time, “How about you tell me what you want.”

“In what way?”

“Well, what do you want? Do you want to date? Or do you just want me to come over, fuck you, and then leave? Do you want to be just friends? What do you want this,” he motioned between the two of them, “to look like?”

His words seemed harsh, but his demeanor felt calm. He was genuinely asking her what she wanted. And to be honest, she hadn’t really thought about it. Her thoughts ranged over every possible scenario he listed, weighing the pros and cons of each option. But she kept thinking about how much fun she had at the beach with everyone and hated the idea of that ending. Her friend group was small, but it was mighty and strong. She couldn’t let that go. Especially not now.

Zoey’s head hurt, too many emotions swirling in her brain. She kept trying to stay focused on her conversation with Brett but would hear a laugh that sounded like Jess’s or smelled a scent that reminded her of her best friend that kept bringing her back to the fact that Jess had been gone for nearly a year and the pain felt like stabbing in her chest. She needed a distraction. She needed more than mental stimulation to keep her mind off of it. 

“Zoey?” Brett repeated, getting her attention.

Zoey placed her palms on the table and looked Brett in the face, her eyes more desperate than she had been all night as she said, “I want you to take me home and fuck me.”

Brett’s eyes widened, not expecting her response. He stuttered at first, unsure of how to respond or what she even really meant as it didn’t answer his question. But he snapped out of it quickly before pulling his wallet out and tossing a wad of cash on the table, almost certain he had overpaid, before sliding out of the booth, taking her hand and practically dragging her out of the restaurant.

The car ride back was silent, the sexual tension almost too much to handle. She kept squeezing her fists, letting her nails dig into the palm of her hands as she tried to occupy her thoughts on anything but the anniversary of her friend’s death or the fact that she had to make a decision on what she wanted to do about Brett.

He averaged 90 MPH on the way back to her condo, luckily without being pulled over. The elevator to the twenty-second floor could not have been slower, and luckily when they finally made it inside of her apartment, Rory and Nancy had already seemingly gone to bed. She really didn’t want to have to deal with any awkward before sex small talk. Binx had pranced over to them at the sound of the door opening and meowed up at the two, pressing the side of his head onto their ankles as he weaved in between their feet. Brett ignored him and led her straight to her room, closing the door before Binx could follow them in, and turned, pushing her against it.

***********************

 Their noses bumped into each other’s cheeks as they kissed, their teeth scraped by how hard Brett pressed his mouth to hers. Still not impressed with his kissing abilities, at least he showed eagerness, as he hungrily pulled her clothes off of her and slipped his condom from his pocket before pulling his own clothes off of himself. Instead of carrying her to the bed this time, he carefully inched her backward until the back of her legs bumped against the side of her bed frame. 

Zoey fell back onto her bed, scooting herself back as Brett ripped open the condom wrapper and slid it onto his member. Her chest rose and fell and her stomach twitched, impatient for more touch. He hovered over her, breath hot as he pressed his lips to hers once more and running his tongue over her teeth. She felt him reach down and take hold of himself before positioning his tip at her entrance, once again skipping the foreplay. She couldn’t blame him this time, though. She did tell him to take her home and fuck her which was exactly what he was doing.

He moaned into her mouth as he pumped himself inside of her and Zoey forced her face away from his and buried it into his neck in an attempt to regain feeling in her lips again. She breathed heavily, sliding her right hand in between their bodies until she reached her clit, pressing roughly and massaging herself counterclockwise, throwing her head back in pleasure. 

“You like that?” Brett grunted, pumping harder. “Yeah? You like that, don’t you!” He forced his upper half up higher and took hold of her breast with his free hand, squeezing hard. “You like that big cock, huh? You’re so wet,” he trailed off.

Zoey slapped her other hand over his mouth and groaned, “shut the fuck up,” before pushing him off of her and shoving him back down on the bed, straddling his hips.

Brett bit his lips as she slid herself onto him and placed her palms on either side of her head, bouncing her bottom half on him, slowly at first before gaining momentum. He grabbed her hips, pushing her further on his cock as he watched her breasts smack together. Alternating speed and direction, she felt her body start to shiver each time she hit her g-spot. He tried to grab her ass and stop her from moving as he neared climax so that he didn’t have to finish yet, but with her on top, she was in control. She leaned back, rubbing herself on his cock, stomach twitching from the pleasure and he gripped at her thighs, grunting as he came. Zoey kept rubbing herself with his cock still inside her, so close to peaking when finally her body stiffened and she finished.

********************************

Zoey lifted herself off of him and got to her feet, trying to regain her balance before she staggered through her dark bedroom, grabbing her robe and quietly making her way out into the hall and towards the bathroom where she did her business. Zoey stared at her face in the mirror. Her makeup was cracking, her bun was falling out of the hair tie, and her lips were bright red raw from how hard the kissing was. She rolled her sleeves above her elbow and splashed her face with water before grabbing some face wash, lathering it up in her hands, and pressing it to her face, working in circular motions and splashing her face once more, letting the water drip down her nose and into the sink. She did this two more times until she felt like her face was completely makeup-free, patting on some moisturizer before heading back to her room.

Binx was standing in front of her door and she smiled, picking him up and nuzzling her face into his soft fur, pecking the top of his head before setting him back down and slipping back into her bedroom where Brett was, now under the covers and propping his head up with his arm underneath a pillow. Zoey pulled on some underwear and draped her robe back over the back of the chair before slipping into bed beside him.

“You never answered my question,” he finally spoke.

Zoey breathed, “I know.”

“Whatever you want, I’m okay with it.”

She thought for a moment before speaking, “I like hanging out with you. Hell, my friends like hanging out with you. I just don’t want to go on any more dates with you, because I don’t want anything serious right now.”

Brett nodded, “I agree.”

“But if you ever want to have sex, let me know,” Zoey added, lightening the mood making Brett laugh.

There was a moment of hesitation before Brett asked, “Do you want me to leave, then? Or should I stay?”

Zoey shook her head, running her hand down the length of his arm, “No, it’s late. You can stay.”

She watched as he rolled over and fell asleep. And just as quickly as he began snoring, Jess was back on her mind. Tonight was the most energy and talking she had done in a week and she was already exhausted, but her brain would not shut off. Zoey’s mind circled between her best friend and the need and desire to talk about her with Harry. Apart of her wanted to text him to see if he was up. If anyone would understand and know what to say, it’d be him. But it would only be 5 AM on the East coast, and Zoey didn’t know if she could handle the conversation, anyway. Instead, she stared out of the window, forgetting to close to curtains earlier, straining to find a star against the lit-up LA night sky. There was a faint glow in the distance, barely visible, but there, and she squeezed her eyes tightly shut, whispering so quietly that it could have just been a breath, “I miss you,” before she finally drifted to sleep.

KEEP READING

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Taglist for Somebody To You:

@thurhomish​

[looselucy]

The Only Living Boy in New York

June 14th – Harry’s POV I awoke from a restless sleep, my eyes uneasily meeting another murky morning in New York, my entire body burdened with a brazen ache. It was clear that misery loved company from the way that it clung at my side, dug its claws into my skin. I was exhausted.

In recent months, I’d gotten into the habit of instinctively turning to gage of the other side of the bed, and even though I’d been in New York for almost three weeks, and I hadn’t shared a bed with her for over a month, I still hadn’t managed to break the habit of turning to see Alfie every single morning. Coming to my senses and finding my bed empty didn’t seem to be getting any easier. Already exasperated, I turned again and reached for my phone which lay on top of my bedside cabinet to check the time, disappointed to have once again stirred at such an early hour. “For fuck sake.” I huffed, craving more sleep. I had to literally drag myself out of bed and into my bathroom, my eyes barely open as I leaned and turned on the taps to fill up the bath, leaving the water running and heading to the living area of my apartment, coffee feeling essential. I wasn’t sure why I’d ever thought that being in New York would make anything better, because it never had. All I’d known for sure was that I wanted to get out of Rosebury, start afresh, try to put that phase of my life behind me, and New York felt like the only real option I had, somewhere with enough distance but somewhere I was familiar with. I’d really thought that I would feel better once I was there, once I was settled. I didn’t. As I filled up the kettle with water, a loud buzzing noise interrupted me, someone ringing my buzzer from the street downstairs. I frowned at the idea of company, not just because I didn’t desire it but because of its unfamiliarity. I headed towards the door, pressed the button to speak between systems. “Hello?” I groaned. “It’s Liam, buzz me in.” I did as I was told, not saying another word before I pressed the button to open the door and allow him into the building where I lived. Liam was my agent. He’d been my agent for years. Liam spoke directly with galleries and clients and buyers and he was the reason my art had done as well as it had. He was alarmingly good at his job, meaning the work of a young boy just out of university had been seen as something truly special. I so easily could have been dismissed at such a young age with such little experience, but Liam had managed to make my name for me, make sure I could live a life that was far more than comfortable. When I so easily could have been shunned, Liam made it so that I was respected. I had a lot to thank him for. It took him some time to reach me due to the fact that I lived on the top floor of my building, overlooking Central Park, a few doors down from the studio I had for my art; somewhere to feel creative and somewhere I’d open up and use as a public gallery, occasionally. I’d told Liam I was back in New York around a week earlier, but he lived in the UK most of the time. I’d known it wouldn’t have been too long before he showed up, got me back into painting and selling. It was inevitable. I made us both a coffee and turned off the running water for my bath, and by the time he got there and knocked on my door, I actually felt quite good about seeing him again. It was nice to see someone I knew, a face that felt friendly and welcomed. It had been too long. “Morning!” He greeted cheerily when I opened the door. “You’re up early.” “I had an early flight. Slept all the way here. How’s things?” “Uh… Fine, yeah. Everything’s fine.” He looked as composed and well-dressed as he always did when I saw him. I’d never seen him wearing anything other than a suit; always different, always perfectly fitted and pristine. It didn’t make sense to me that he’d just gotten off an eight-hour flight, but Liam had this certain quality about him, this poise, something that assisted with his selling techniques. He was always professional. “Sure?” “Yeah. Yeah, fine. I uh- I made you a coffee. How are you?” “I’m good, cheers. Glad to see you. Glad to have you back in New York.” “Mm.” I tried my best to sound even slightly enthusiastic, but it didn’t play. I wasn’t happy there. And I was beginning to worry that I wouldn’t ever feel happy anywhere. “To be honest, I wasn’t expecting you to move back here.” “No?” I grumbled after taking a hefty sip. “No, I mean… The last time I spoke to you properly, you seemed really settled. Happy. You were in the countryside somewhere, right?” “Yeah. Up North, a place called Rosebury.” “What changed? I mean that was… a couple of months ago?” I didn’t know what to say. I liked Liam, and he’d been in my life for a long time, but we weren’t close. We were barely friends, really. He didn’t feel like someone I could share with, not that sharing ever came easily for me. I couldn’t begin to explain how my feelings had altered since I’d spoken to him on the phone that day, mere hours before my brother broke into my home. “It was… It was just time to move on.” I sighed, not willing to discuss it. “Since you’re here… we should talk work. M’gunna start painting again, sell some new stuff.” “And the Blood Sun?” He asked. I went quiet for a while, staring at him as I thought about that painting, thought about what I wanted, how it made me feel. “I… I wanna focus on new stuff right now. I can’t even think about the Blood Sun at the minute, because… The thing is, I don’t wanna paint with blood anymore.” The look on his face after I’d said that was proof that our relationship, however friendly, was strictly business. He seemed shocked, maybe even disappointed by me saying I no longer wanted to paint with blood. It was my niche, it was what had gotten people so interested in my work, a large reasoning behind why my stuff sold for as much as it did. Liam was thinking business, and me not using blood had the potential to drive down prices, which meant he earnt less. As understandable as it was, I couldn’t help but wish for more. I thought about Alfie, how she had only cared about me, my health, what using blood was doing to me and how vital it was that I stopped, found a different way of expressing my feelings through my art. She didn’t look at it as an expression, she saw it as me hurting myself and nothing more. I’d finally started to see it the same way. “Right. Okay… Shit.” He sat himself down on the stool beside him. “Are you sure? It’s a major selling point.” “One that involves… self-harm, to put it bluntly. I don’t wanna do it anymore. I can’t.” “Okay, yeah. Well… I mean, since you’ve had a break, maybe we present it as like… a new era.” He spoke his thoughts as they came to his head. “Maybe… think of something new. A new style. A new addition. Something almost to… replace the blood, y’know?” “Right. Okay, yeah.” “Different styles, different techniques. A new method. Let’s keep people interested, that’s the main thing.” “Agreed. M’glad you… get it. M’glad you understand.” “As long as you can think up something new. You got any ideas?” “Uh… Not really. I dunno, I guess I’ve… not been in that much of a creative headspace recently.” When I’d moved to Rosebury, I’d made a purposeful and conscious decision not to paint, pulling myself out of that mindset in order to save my sanity, hoping to heal. Despite a minor setback when I’d gone to New York at the end of February, the only other time I’d allowed myself to paint was when I was with Alfie, which was carefree, fun, something I didn’t really need to think about. She helped to make something that once made me miserable into something that felt good, for the first time in years. It was hard to feel creative without immediately linking that with pain. It was hard to think about Alfie without immediately linking her with pain. “Well, that’s one of the reasons I’m here, actually.” He got back to his feet, walking around the kitchen counter and approaching me, routing through his pocket. “Y’know James Caine?” “Uh… I dunno, I don’t think so.” “He’s an artist, he lives locally. Recently moved here from Manchester. He’s good. He’s talented. I work with him and he wants to meet you.” He handed me over a rather tattered piece of paper with an address scribbled onto it, my brows low as I took it from his hand before looking back up to him. “Why?” “Because you’re Harry fucking Styles.” He leered. “He likes your stuff. He wants to talk art, work, what it’s like here, how to build his name up. He’s having a party tonight, and he asked me if I could get you to go.” “M'not really… in a party mood.” “I wouldn’t expect anything too wild. Bunch’a creative types, artists, sellers, y’know.” “Mm.” If anything, that put me off even more. When I’d last been in New York fulltime, my whole life seemed to centre around events like that and I’d always hated them. There was such a lack of honesty in those rooms and within those people, too many pretences and false personalities that people created as though they thought it would suit their career, forcing who they thought they should be. People were pretentious and arrogant and self-obsessed, and it was always something I’d hated about my job and the little quirks that accompanied it. “You should go. I think it’d be good for you. Get talking about art with some interesting people, you’ll think up something for your new work in no time, I promise.” “Fine.” I sighed despondently, placing the paper down on the counter. “I probably won’t stay, but I’ll go for a while. See if it helps.” “Good choice. Right, I’ll see you there then! I’ve gotta go, I’m meeting some people. Gotta cram in as much work as possible whilst I’m here.” “How long are you here for?” I asked as I approached my sofa, resting against the back of it and folding my arms. “Couple of weeks, then back to London.” “Well… I’ll try and think something up before you go.” “Nice one.” He nodded. “Alright, I’ll see you tonight.” He was seconds away from leaving, opening the door before I managed to spit out my question, nervous and ridden with fear. “Do you know any therapists?” I rushed, speaking so quickly that what I’d said was unclear to him. “What?” He turned around to face me. “Do you… Do you know of any therapists?” I paced myself, my throat feeling swollen, almost choking over the words. “You wanna see a therapist?” He asked. “Yeah. I think… Yeah. I-I thought I remembered you saying you once saw someone, but-” “I did, but not here. It was back in the UK, a long time ago. I saw a woman called Dr Jackson for… almost two years.” “Did it help?” Whenever the mere thought of therapy had introduced itself to my mind before, I’d completely shunned it. I’d been dubious about how talking was supposed to help in some way, it hadn’t made sense to me. Talking had never felt like any sort of solution, but somehow, over time, Alfie had changed that. She encouraged me, supported me, helped me to articulate times of my life that I hadn’t been able to communicate efficiently, things I had never really spoken about. She made me realise that talking really did have the power to help, the power to change things in a positive way. I didn’t want my past to keep holding me back in the way it was. She’d helped me more than I could even begin to understand, but it hadn’t been enough. I could tell by my recent actions and feelings that it wasn’t enough. I knew something wasn’t right, and I so badly wanted to fix it in any way I could. “She really helped me, yeah. She was amazing.” Liam said. I wanted that. Needed it. As wonderful as she’d been, Alfie was not a therapist. There was only so much she could do. There was only so much I had allowed her to do. My emotions had been undistinguishable for quite some time, not at all limited to but largely surrounding how I was feeling about Alfie. I missed her so much. I was sure I’d done the right thing, but it didn’t make it any easier. I was just so sure that in the long run, I wouldn’t be any good for her. I didn’t want her to love me, because I was completely convinced that I was a bad omen, that I’d ruin it and hurt her and it would break the two of us more than it already had. I was not in the right position to give her everything she deserved. I wasn’t the right person to do that, no matter how much I wanted to be. Trying to explain that to her didn’t really feel like an option, because she’d have fought it. She would have fought for me and us and it would have hurt so much more than it already did. Being without her was killing me but it had to be that way. Jack was right. It was better to get out, save myself from as much pain as I possibly could. So once again, I’d chosen against talking, because I couldn’t. It was like my body was physically fighting any attempt I could make to tell her exactly how I was feeling. Instead of talking, explaining myself, I’d been blunt and hurtful and I’d lied, because I thought it would be easier for her. In a way, I wanted to give her a reason to hate me, to be angry and frustrated, anything to stop her from loving me. Anything to make it easier for her. We weren’t right for each other. Or at least, I wasn’t right for her. She had brought so much light into my life that I’d began to fear the dark, dread how things would be without her, and I was right to. I couldn’t stand the thought of her just waking up one day and realising she’d be better off without me. I felt too vulnerable. No one I’d ever cared for that much had stayed in my life. How could I expect her to be any different? I put the power back into my own hands thinking that would help, but the longer we were apart, it seemed my theory wasn’t panning out. I had no idea what might help me to heal, but seeing a therapist felt like a good place to start. “I’m sure there’ll be a lot of good therapists here.” Liam continued, covering my contemplative silence. “Just look around. Don’t think that… the highest price means the best therapy, because it doesn’t. You can sit across from some people and realise instantly that they see you as a job. Find someone who cares. Find someone who honestly wants to help, not someone who sees you as work. Yeah?” “Thanks.” “Don’t mention it. See you tonight.” “Yeah.” With a smile, he finally left my apartment, leaving me on my own with my thoughts once again. I practically downed the rest of my coffee before heading back through my bedroom and into the bathroom, filling up the bath the rest of the way before undressing, testing the waters, messing with my phone to play music through the speakers I had installed around the flat, and then finally climbing in. I became accustom to the heat quickly, steam rising around me as I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath in before submerging myself completely, imagining myself in the lake just outside of Rosebury. The sound of The Only Living Boy in New York playing became distant, unclear, somewhere between soothing and utterly unbearable. I listened to it on repeat for the next hour.

“You’re Harry Styles, right?” A little dazed, I looked up, gaging the boy ahead of me. I knew it would only be so long before my solitude was spoilt, but I suppose it was to be expected at such an event. The party had been even more agonising than I’d predicted. James, the boy who was hosting, was new to the area and relatively new to the scene that came with his career, and not only was he milking it, but he was putting on a show, building a character before my eyes. I’d met him briefly when I first arrived, but hoped to speak to him a little more before the nights end, advise him to stay true to himself, not to get lost in all the bullshit and be who what he thought others believed he should be. If he really wanted to talk to me about work, that would be the only honest advice I could give. I’d been there a few hours, only really sticking around to be polite and possibly hoping for a bit of inspiration, but that would have been difficult given I hadn’t even bothered to talk to anyone. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that someone had approached me. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s me.” I sat upwards on the sofa, changing my poise to speak to him properly. “Shit, I’m a huge fan. So good to meet you.” He offered his hand, and I took it. “My name’s Zayn.” “Nice to meet you.” I managed to smile, sort of comforted by his familiar accent, his demeaner. “You an artist?” “Graphic design.” He told me, sitting down beside me on the sofa. “I work on a lot of book covers, posters, advertisement, that sorta thing.” “Nice. You live here?” “I do. And what about you? I’d heard you lived here, but then according to the grapevine, you haven’t been around for a while.” “No, I uh… I moved back to the UK for a while.” “So that’s why your gallery hasn’t been open? I’ve been dying to see your stuff in person.” “M'gunna open again soon. M’just trying to… gather my bearings a bit. Get used to all… this again.” I huffed, gesturing vaguely to the room. He chuckled in a way that suggested he knew exactly what I meant and agreed entirely. “You don’t sound overly impressed.” “Am I that obvious?” I turned my head to him, smiled. “I get it. I feel the same way. I’ve known James for years, and the first thing he spoke about with me tonight was how much his latest piece went for. His new apartment. How fake he thinks everyone else is.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s mad how quickly people change.” I sat forward, still with my eyes on him, a huge smile on my face. I liked him instantly. “What was your name again?” “Zayn.” He answered. “Genuinely, it’s good to meet you. It’s good to talk with someone who… I dunno. I feel like we’re on the same page. I don’t get that often. Not here, anyway.” Just as we were about to really get talking, a rather large group of people approached us, some of them heading towards him, others coming up to me, tearing us away from our talk. There was a mix of people, some that I’d met a few times before, others completely new faces. Zayn got to his feet to greet them properly, whereas I basically retracted back into the chair, overwhelmed by their company, anxious and claustrophobic. They all sort of spoke around me, through me, at me. There wasn’t even really a conversation to join in with, it was all just noise. One of the many things I’d loved about being in Rosebury was the sense of community and family there. When people asked of your wellbeing, they actually cared to know the answer. They were kind, considerate, down to earth, genuine. I understood why my mother had always been so fond of it there, so drawn to that place. I cleared my throat, looking up to the people around me and spotting a girl who was staring right at me, my mind taking the few seconds to place her. And then she smirked, and I knew. She pushed through the crowd, drawing herself closer to me even though I’d dropped eye contact as quickly as I could, desperate not to talk to her. “Hi, Harry.” She leered as she got to me. “Y’alright?” I grumbled. “It’s been a long time. Too long.” She was someone I used to sleep with before I moved to Rosebury in August the year before, our companionship so casual and empty that I hadn’t even bothered to tell her I was moving away. I hadn’t seen her since, and I was glad of it because I knew exactly what she’d be like. She took her place beside me, immediately putting her fingers in my hair, her touch unwelcomed and cold. I really didn’t want to see her. She was so abrasively forward, unashamedly attempting to rekindle a flame that had barely existed between us in the first place. I knew I’d see her eventually, but I’d been absolutely dreading it. I didn’t look directly at her, my jaw tight as I cringed over her touch. “Please tell me it’s true you’ve moved back here.” She leaned close to me, whispering in my ear. “Unfortunately, that’s true.” I seethed, tilting my head the other way, but it didn’t stop her. “I don’t think it’s unfortunate. I think we should pick up where we left off.” My stomach was literally churning with every word, every sultry touch she inflicted upon my body. All I could think of was Alfie. All I could think about was how different it might feel if she was the one running her fingers through my hair, whispering in my ear, how it would feel to have her body that close to mine. I craved to once again experience the feelings I used to get when I was with her, how it felt to hold her, be held by her. But I knew that even if I was with her then, it wouldn’t be the same, not after everything. The day before I’d left, when she came to my place, touching her and being around her just seemed to fucking hurt more than anything else, like I was grasping hold of a memory, or a concept of something and someone I wanted so badly but didn’t deserve. Every overwhelming sensation that used to burst through my body when we touched was gone. Those butterflies she used to create, those beautiful butterflies had stopped fluttering, as though someone reached right into my gut and ripped them out one by one. I would have still taken the agony of Alfie’s touch any day over the way I felt then. “I don’t think so.” I answered bleakly. “C’mon, Harry, I’ve missed you.” She pouted. “We were good together.” “We weren’t together.” “You know what I mean.” She shrugged. “Do you need me to elaborate? Remind you of some specifics…” She trailed her hand to my chest, reaching through the gap at the top of shirt to feel at my skin. I closed my eyes, my nostrils flaring as I tried to keep myself together. “No. I don’t-” “I know you hate nights alone. Let me keep you company.” I turned my head to look at her, be sure that she could see the unyielding look in my eyes, that she would have no doubt at all that I was being entirely truthful about my intentions, how adamant I was that I’d rather be on my own than ever have her in my bed again. But she didn’t even give the chance to speak before she rapidly leaned into me, put her lips on mine. My eyes gripped shut as though I was fighting physical pain, but for a second, I kissed her back. It was a mere moment, a blip of time and thoughtlessness, but I kissed her back. Maybe to test the waters. Maybe because of my hopeless need to feel something, anything. But it was only for a second. Then I pulled away, taming myself as much as possible before I spoke, making sure that I didn’t yell even though that was exactly what I wanted to do. “Don’t ever fucking touch me again.” I wheezed. Whatever that kiss had made me feel, it wasn’t something to be desired. I had to admit to myself that I wasn’t in right frame of mind to be with anyone, even if it was without feeling or meaning. My kiss still belonged to someone else.

June 15th It was 4 AM when my phone rang. That was the first thing I did; check the time. With my eyes barely open and my head blaring, I looked to see the hour before I looked to see who was calling me, worried that I may have overslept and wasted most of my day. But it was early, too early. I didn’t even look at my phone, I just picked it up, not fully conscious as I attempted to answer it, hoping it would be a brief exchange with whoever was trying to get in touch with me at such a ridiculous hour. “Hello?” I just about spoke. “Shit. I didn’t think about the time difference, shit. Sorry.” I recognised Louis’ voice, my eyes opening. “Louis?” I began to sit myself up. “Yeah, sorry, I should’ve waited. I didn’t even think. I just…” “What? What is it?” I rubbed my eyes. “Is everything alright?” “I… I think you need to come home, mate.” My exhale was a heavy one. I think I’d sort of been expecting one of them to call in an attempt to coax me back there. They hadn’t been happy when I’d told them I was leaving. They’d wanted me to stay, for me to be happy, and I’d left them all without giving them more of a chance to talk things through with me. I purposefully avoided them after I’d broken the news, and I knew they’d have much more to say. They really did care about me. That’s why I thought he’d called. “I can’t, Louis. I-” “No, you need to. I know how much you fucking care about her, and she won’t call you herself, so-” “Wait, what? Is it Alfie?” I whipped my head up, suddenly wide awake. “Are you talking about Alfie? Is she alright?” He took a few seconds, his heart so heavy I could literally hear its burden over the phone. And then he told me. “Alfie’s mum died.”

[aaronhart93-archive]

discord II text Landon & Aaron

Discord thread featuring: Aaron and @davieslandon

Mentions: @alison-haynes @theharrykingston

Where: Aaron in Paris and Landon in Chamonix 

When: June 15th

Description: Aaron tells Landon that Alison wants to have another baby with Aaron

Trigger Warnings: none 

Aaron.

two things

who is watching Elle while you're gone?

LANDON

Harry

and before you get all protective, if I'm going to give him a chance this is a good first step no?

Aaron.

ahfldj leaving her with him while you're half way across the world though?

I'd call babysitting for one night a good first step....maybe a moving night with the 3 of you

LANDON

i know i know but the first meeting went well then we had movie night and he looked after her one day when I was called in to work unexpectedly

you try explaining to a kid who knows her  dad's around right now that she can't stay with him him even though her other dad's leaving for a few days

Aaron.

i mean literally anyone in Kingsboro would've taken her while you were gone

but im not trying to tell you how to parents bc i fckn hate when people do that to me

i don't think anything bad is going to happen anyway

im just being too protective i guess

i need to tell you the other thing though

are you sitting down

LANDON

trust me i've been texting him since the second i landed and i kind of put Avery and Monroe up to keeping an eye on things just in case

i'm worried but i'm trying to stay positive

oh shit

what did you do??

yeah i'm fucking sitting down what is it???

Aaron.

good we trust avery and monroe

I didn't do anything

Ali wants to have another baby

she's single

and wants me to donate sperm

aka she wants to have another baby with me

LANDON

and obviously you said no

Aaron.

aka i'd have two kids

i told her i'd think about it

LANDON

but you're going to say no

right???

Aaron.

she asked me and i vomitted

i dont know!!!

so many things are going through my head

LANDON

what do you mean you don't know???

Aaron.

i mean it'd be great for Des to have a sibling that shared both parents with her...

and I love Ali...we're already great co-parents...and I don't want her having another baby alone...i know she could do it and i'd still be there with her

but i hadn't thought about having another kid

like at all

LANDON

have you completely lost your mind????

i mean good for you that you want another kid and that you want Des to have a sibling with the same parents

but now???

Aaron.

I....don’t know if I want another kid though

I mean I’m thinking about it and maybe??? But I never thought about it beforeJune 16, 2020

LANDON

are you sure now’s the right time though? With everything else going on

Aaron.

no

even considering i don't know if ever will be the right time

I fucking threw up when she asked me

LANDON

yeah no shit

I would have probably had the same reaction

Aaron.

i feel like im letting her down if i say no but i also don't think this is what i want

LANDON

if you don’t think it’s what you want then you need to tell her

bringing a child into the world is a huge commitment

Aaron.

obviously i know that

LANDON

well I would hope you know that

Aaron.

sorry

I’m just stressed

my head’s been spinning for hours

LANDON

I get it

I just don’t want you to do something just because you’re scared of disappointing Ali

Aaron.

im just so confused

i feel like out little family would be threatened if she were to have someone else's kid

and i know that sounds co dependent af

and unhealthy af

LANDON

I think I get it

you and Ali might not be together like that but you’re a family and you don’t want anything to change that

Aaron.

exactly

I think it’s one of the reasons we’ve both been single for so long

LANDON

but isn’t it going to change anyways whenever she finds someone she loves?

like you did

Aaron.

yeah...but I honestly don’t even know how that’s going to go over with her. Regardless, I didn’t expect it to be this soon....I thought we had time

LANDON

why so sudden though?

I mean what’s wrong with waiting a little bit

Aaron.

she said Des asked her for a little sibling and i guess she feels rushed??? I told her she was only 26 and had plenty of time then said she didn’t want Des’ sibling to be significantly older than her

LANDON

do you know how many little kids ask for siblings? It doesn’t mean you have to give them on straight away

and did she say she’ll try woth someone else if you said no?

Aaron.

I know that’s what I said

and I told ali we can explain to Des how unique our family is

I thought she understood but maybe not

LANDON

this is definitely...a situation

Aaron.

lol mmmhmmm

so much for a relaxing vacation

LANDON

haha nothing relaxing about being told she wants another kid

what are you going to do?

Aaron.

I don’t know, Lan

obviously I’d be there every step of the way with her regardless if it was mine or not

it’ll just be different if it was mine

LANDON

why do i get the feeling you're going to end up doing this?

Aaron.

fuck

LANDON

fuck is right

Aaron.

I just need to think I guess

I put Des down tonight and thought about doing it for another kid

and i don’t know if I can love someone else like I love her

I don’t know if I want to

LANDON

yeah this is definitely something that requires a lot of thought

if you do this...i think you'll end up loving any child you have as much as you love Des

but no one can force you to have another child if it's not what you want

Aaron.

I never thought I’d have one kid at 26...much less 2...but Ali won’t force me regardless. I don’t know what she was thinking honestly

LANDON

honestly i kind of admire you for even thinking about it

I think i would answer straight away

Aaron.

ooooof you do not want to be in my position though. I’m thinking so hard bc I don’t want to make the wrong choice. It’s a big one.

LANDON

i really don't want to be

it is...i think you'll make the right choice though

Aaron.

I’m not too great at those

LANDON

maybe not when it comes to relationships

but you've always been a great father to Des

Aaron.

yeah...at least I try to be

LANDON

you are

Aaron.

yeah...

LANDON

i'm sorry you ended up in this situation

Aaron.

thanks for letting me vent

LANDON

what are friends for?

Aaron.

love you bro

LANDON

love you too mate

[heyyyharry]

My Girl Series: Chapter 12 - I Love You

…in which Y/N wants to face her past, but Harry wants to leave his behind.

Series description: Y/N falls in love with the older boy next door who doesn’t feel the same, years later they meet again at a funeral.

AU: actor!harry, older!harry, younger!y/n; (4-year age gap)

Chapter 11: Paper Love - Y/N tries to compromise, and Harry tries to change.

warning: smut at the end.

OC version

.

Anyone who knew Y/N well enough would know that she never got on well with her father, and she deeply loathed his new fiancée Marcy. But no one, not even Celine, had an idea how much Y/N used to adore that woman.

It wasn't a coincidence that Marcy started seeing Bradford not so long after Tam's death. Before that, she used to be an employee at his hardware store in Holmes Chapel. She was clever, pretty, and funny — everything a man could ever dream of. And for an impressionable little girl like Y/N, Marcy was the kind of woman she wanted to become. She used to give Y/N useful advice on boy issues, on how to deal with mean girls in school, and she also had a great taste in literature and music. How could anyone not love Marcy?

How could anyone not love Marcy?

The more Y/N thought about it, the sadder it got. People like Marcy could have anything they wanted, even a married man; and those like her mother had no choice but to accept defeat and swallow the pain. 

Y/N felt very disgusted by her father’s wrongful affair, but most importantly, she felt like she'd betrayed her mother for even liking the person who'd torn their family apart. Her friendship with Marcy made her feel terribly guilty towards her mum, to the point where she ended up lying to Harry that she'd never met that woman before their dinner with her dad.

However, ever since Harry came back, those two had gradually become the least of her concerns. As a matter of fact, she didn't even hate Marcy as much as before. She knew she couldn't stop their wedding from happening, thus the only thing she'd asked from her father’s future wife was to leave her alone and stay out of her life. But Marcy didn't seem to get that. She went all the way against Y/N's request by showing up at her door three nights before the wedding.

"I'm visiting a friend in the city so I thought I should pay you a visit," Marcy said to the confused girl who was glued to the spot. "I'm actually going shopping. Wanna come with me? We can get you a cute dress for my wedding."

"Why did you think it was a good idea to show up here?" Y/N said, lifting an eyebrow. "Sorry, I'm very busy. I can't go with you."

"Wait!"

"What now?"

"I'm very happy that you accepted the invitation. I know this is hard for you but...please don't be like this," Marcy begged as she reached for Y/N's hand, causing the girl to freeze in an instant. "Please give me a chance to get to know you again...I—I'm not asking much just let me buy you a dress to the wedding."

At that moment, Y/N could envision her slamming the door and turning a deaf ear to everything Marcy had just said to carry on with her half-finished work in progress. In reality, however, she was actually considering the offer.

She'd told herself to stop running away from the past and focus on the future, because this grudge she held against her father and his fiancée had only been doing her damage. In the end, it was her own worries that ended up breaking her heart. Maybe she could never like Marcy the same way she used to, but she could give her a chance to fix her wrongdoings. A little effort to make peace was still better than nothing at all.

"Alright," Y/N said at last, making Marcy squeal in joy. "Wait here, I'll go get my coat."

.

.

.

As Jeff was briefing Harry about his shooting schedule for June, the actor let all the words fly from one ear to the other while his eyes stayed fixed on the phone, allowing his hairdresser to do whatever she wanted. He had put all the trust in her to make him look the best for tonight as he knew she had never disappointed him or his fans.

Yes, a red-carpet event sounded immensely fun and exciting, but truthfully, Harry hated these occasions and would only go when he must. If it hadn't been for Niall, who'd written most of the songs on the movie soundtrack and would be there as well, he wouldn't have agreed to attend that premiere.

Ping!

A text popped up on the screen, now distracting Harry even more from what Jeff was rambling on about.

⌲ Bambi: Just ran into Mrs. Huang. She complained about us being too loud again.

Trying hard not to laugh at the message, the man bit his bottom lip and quickly typed down a response:

⌲ Always fucked you good, didn't I? Pretty proud of myself. ;)

⌲ Bambi: Harry!

⌲ Well, you started it.

⌲ Now I cannot stop thinking about last night...

⌲ Bambi: Why are you always horny at the worst time?

⌲ Are you in class?

⌲ Bambi: Nope, dress shopping with THE bride.

⌲ Who?

⌲ Bambi: Marcy.

⌲ Lol really?

⌲ Bambi: Really.

"Done," said the hairdresser as she patted Harry on the back. "Let's get you dressed."

⌲ Gotta go. Tell me all about it tonight?

⌲ Bambi: Okay.

⌲ Bambi: CANNOT WAIT TO SEE YOUR RED CARPET PHOTOS!!!

Harry giggled at the text for he could hear her shouting with enthusiasm in his head. Jeff called him louder for the second time, causing the actor to look up and finally notice all the questioning stares his whole crew was giving him.

"Why are you still sitting there?! Hurry up!"

"Sorry, sorry, coming!" He shouted cheerfully, wasting no time to fly right out of his chair and following Jeff out of the room.

.

.

.

Y/N sucked in a deep breath as she stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror, slightly tugging on the flared skirt of her pastel pink gown. It now occurred to the girl that she hadn't gone shopping in a while. Lately, her life had been all about student debts, writer's block, and family drama. She seemed to forget how to really take care of herself.

Tilting her head to the side, she happily thought, maybe with some nice clothes and red lipstick on, she could be just as beautiful as the models Harry used to date.

"I think this looks cute on you."

"But it's pastel pink," said Y/N as she turned around to face Marcy. "I hate this color."

"You used to love it."

"Not anymore."

Little Y/N would grab all the pink items in the store and try on every single piece just because she was obsessed with the hue. But she was a different person back then — a bubbly young girl who saw pink in everything in her life. She'd read somewhere that the pink color stood for unconditional love and understanding, both of which she'd completely lost faith in as she grew up. Now without the kaleidoscope for an eye, her life was always either black or blue.

"Do you have this same dress in a darker color?" Marcy asked an employee in the store, but Y/N stopped that lady right before she could walk away.

"Can we take a break?" she turned to her future step mum. "I've been trying on dresses for half an hour already."

"Oh, alright." Marcy awkwardly nodded as she watched the twenty-year-old flop down on the sofa and pull out her phone — something she always did to avoid unwanted conversations. Taking a seat beside the girl, Marcy didn't mean to be nosy, but it was hard to ignore the beam on Y/N's face in reaction to her phone repeatedly pinging with new messages. It didn't take a genius to figure out who they were all from.

"So..." Marcy trailed off, hands linked together to rest on her knees. "You're going to the wedding with Harry?"

"Yes," Y/N replied shortly without looking at her.

So she waited a couple seconds more before asking another question. "Are you two dating?"

With this one, Y/N finally peeled her eyes off the screen and turned to her dad's fiancée, an eyebrow raised in annoyance. "What?" She scoffed. "Can't friends go to a wedding together?"

"Yes, of course!" Marcy freaked out. "It's just...your dad said—"

"My dad doesn't know anything about me." Y/N shook her head. "He doesn't even know my favorite book even though I used to rant about it at dinner every night. Do you really think he knows or cares whom I'm dating?"

"What Happens In London by Julia Quinn, right? Your favorite book?"

The question for an answer caught Y/N by surprise this time. "How do you—"

"—remember?" Marcy raised a smile. "You once told me your favorite quote from the book was: 'When a man writes a romance, the woman dies. When a woman writes one, it ends all tidy and sweet.' It's become my favorite quote ever since."

"It's still my favorite," Y/N mumbled; for the first time in forever, showing a genuine smile in front of Marcy.

That seemed like a good beginning for everything to go back to the way it’d been. Y/N forgot about her hatred for this woman who began to talk about how Sir Harry Valentine in the book was everyone's dream man, and all the things she adored about Lady Olivia Bevelstoke.

"Sassy, witty, and strong. That's why she's one of the best female characters." Y/N giggled, leaving a massive grin on Marcy's face.

"If you love Lady Bevelstoke then you should really take this dress."

"What does she have to do with this dress?" The twenty-year-old squinted her eyes in confusion as she looked down at the pink gown she was wearing. Such bright color always overwhelmed her, giving her the feeling that other people might stare, when all she wanted was to blend into the crowd or be invisible. She wasn't used to getting excessive attention.

But Marcy only rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me you forgot Olivia's 'Unmarried Lady Sorts of Things' list. The first thing is: 'Wear pastel colors'."

"'And be quite glad if you possess the correct complexion for such hues'," Y/N nodded her head slowly, chuckling to herself. "I remember."

"I don't make the rules, Y/N. Olivia did."

Marcy rose up, pulling a giggly Y/N back to the full-length mirror and telling the girl to stand tall, chin up.

"There you go," she encouraged, lips curved into a wide grin. "Lady Bevelstoke." 

The name got the younger girl smiling from ear to ear. With one long look at her own reflection, Y/N inhaled deeply. "Okay." She nodded at last. "I'll take this one."

"Yay!" Marcy squealed, clapping her hands. "You go change and I'll pay for this dress then we'll head out to dinner!"

In that moment, watching the woman dash away to go get an employee, Y/N must admit that she was genuinely happy. She changed back to her own clothes and brought the dress to the front counter, still wearing the same smile.

But she really should've known better — that every bit of happiness in her life up to that point had been all short-lived, including that moment right then in the store.

She saw Marcy hand the employee her credit card, and her stomach clenched immediately as she noticed the shiny little rock on Marcy's slim ring finger. Y/N's smile broke, and so did her heart. She frantically clutched Marcy's left wrist, yanking it up, causing the woman to release a startled gasp as her mouth fell open.

"Is this...my...my grandmother's ring?"

Marcy withdrew her hand when Y/N's grip became uncomfortably tight as if it was meant to break her bone.

"Yes?" She answered, fear overtaking her face. "It's also my engagement ring...What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" Y/N laughed wryly.

Everything.

Her dad had used that ring to propose to her mother, who had never taken it off when she was alive, not even once, not even to do house chores, not even when they threw things at the wall and he screamed at her. That was how much the ring meant to the late woman. And the fact that Marcy was wearing it around her finger today could only mean one thing — Y/N's father took it from her mother's body just to put it on the hand of his new and younger wife.

She might've been fooled twice, but she wasn't stupid. She wasn't convinced that Marcy truly had no idea what was wrong. This woman was either extremely dumb, or viciously pretentious, and Y/N knew better than anyone that Marcy was a smart person. And even though she also knew what her parents had wasn't love, it was still painful to think how fast a person could erase from his memory the one he'd vowed to treasure for the rest of his life.

"This is not your ring," Y/N said with her fists clenched tight. "This belongs to my mother."

"For god's sake! Your mother is dead, Y/N!" The harsh emphasis on that one word punched Y/N right in the guts, causing her heart to wrench, yet Marcy didn't just stop there. "What is a dead woman gonna do? Dig her way out of her grave and cut off my finger?"

That was the final straw.

"I was right about you..." Y/N scoffed, quivering lips formed a broken smirk as she shook her head slowly. "You're nothing but a homewrecker. A husband-stealing whore that—"

Marcy's hand smacked across her face, snapping it back with force and causing the girl to clutch her cheek, eyes watering. The small cut below her eye marked by the ring could be easily noticed from a distance. And Marcy was petrified now that she’d realized what she'd done. 

Both of them could hear whispers from the other people in the store who didn't want to interfere with their conflict, even though it was shocking how those two had gone from laughing together to one slapping the other.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't...I didn't mean to..." Marcy reached out, attempting to touch Y/N's face. But the girl immediately took a step back to dodge those hands like a bullet.

Knowing how hot-tempered Y/N had always been, Marcy expected a slap for revenge right then and there, but all that she received was a sense of fear in those glistening eyes. Without another word, the girl ran fast out of the store, ignoring Marcy calling out to her. She ran and didn't look back.

Soon she found herself lost in a river of pedestrians, all were either in a rush or minding their own business, and would just raise their voice if someone accidentally bumped into them. Y/N swirled around those strangers as the panic rose in her chest. She didn't even think, letting her feet guide the way to end up outside Harry's house. 

Trying to steady her breathing pace, Y/N flopped onto the doorstep, holding both knees to her chest and trying to ignore the stung of the slap evident on her red cheek. Though the last thing she wanted was to bother Harry while he was having fun at the after party, she couldn't stop herself from pulling out her phone and dialing his number. She felt the need to be with someone, not just anyone, him.

.

.

"I just ran into Ruby."

When Harry heard those words from Niall, his nerves were frayed. The party around him still continued, the music was still blasting at maximum volume, and all the guests in fancy clothes were still dancing and having a blast; to Harry, however, the entire world stopped as his whole body turned to stone.

He had never been claustrophobic before, but right now he began to feel suffocated for he knew she was somewhere in that same crowd. She could be in a different room, or just a few steps away from where he stood, still what mattered was the fact that she was there.

The mixture of expensive perfumes in the air along with loud laughter and rowdy conversations caused Harry a headache. He looked from left to right, frantically searching for the figure of the woman he used to love, unable to decide whether he was trying to spot her so he could hide from her, or just to see her face again.

It was annoying, wasn't it?

Harry thought he'd mastered not thinking about Ruby, now the possibility of running into her had him plagued with a sinking stomach.

"But she wasn't at the premiere," He nervously blurted, making his friend heave a sigh.

"She probably skipped it. I don't know."

"Did she...did she say something to you?"

Niall's hesitation before answering that one question got Harry sweating in his suit.

"She asked me where you were. She wanted to speak to you about something, but I told her that you didn't want to see her again."

Harry nodded slightly as he muttered a weak "thank you" before rushing towards the nearest exit. Despite Niall desperately calling out to ask where he was going, the actor only walked faster. Once again, he found himself running away from the ghost of his past, like the same old pathetic Harry a couple months ago. It was awkward, embarrassing even.

As he stumbled through the door, his brain was filled with questions that needed answers. What had gotten into him back there? Why was he so afraid of meeting Ruby again? Was it because he still hadn't moved on? Wait. No. He was sure that he had. Because the only girl that'd been on his mind lately was his Bambi, only his Bambi. Maybe he should get back to her.

His throat was dry when he swallowed hard and got into the backseat of his car. He told his driver Y/N's address, hoping that she was still awake to let him in. While chewing on his bottom lip impatiently, Harry looked out of the window, watching streetlights passing by and processing all the complicated thoughts running right through his head. He didn't want to start guessing what it was that Ruby wanted to talk about.

The loud ringtone pierced right through the silence in the car, causing Harry to flinch as he took out the device from his jacket. Once he saw Bambi on the screen, he picked up without reluctance, but the girl didn't give him a chance to speak first.

"I'm right outside your door." Her voice was rapid and fear-filled, making his heart halt for a split second as he quickly told the driver to go back to his house instead.

"I'm on my way home," he said fast into the phone. "What happened? Are you okay?"

"I...I need to see you..." She sounded strained, which made him worry even more.

"I'm almost there. Can you wait five more minutes?"

"Sure" was all she said before hanging up on him.

Harry put his phone away and urged the driver to speed up, thanking God that it was late and the avenue was clear. In less than five minutes, he had arrived at his London home. He thanked the driver and rushed out of the vehicle to find Y/N sitting on his doorstep. With both knees held close to her chest, the girl only looked up when she heard his hasty footsteps on the pavement coming her way.

She'd been holding back from the moment she got there, but as soon as he showed up, it didn't take too long for her eyes to flood with tears. She didn't explain. He didn't ask. In silence, she fell into his arms and he held her tight, one hand at the back of her head while his other arm locked around her waist. She desperately needed that hug right now. But little did she know, he needed it just as much.

He kissed her temple as she clutched onto his jacket, telling her no matter what had happened, it was all fine now that he was there. It was dark outside so Harry didn't notice the welt on her cheek at first, but now that he had, he felt a physical pain surging through his bones. He took her face with tenderness. His hands were cold, but the softness of his touch made her feel warm inside.

"Did...did she hit you?" Sadness clouded his features when she shook her head to deny it, still, the look on her face screamed a loud yes. 

Quickly, he unlocked the door and pulled her into his living room where he could hold her for much longer without being afraid of curious eyes on the street. Harry didn't ask any more questions, knowing she would only tell the truth once she was calm enough and ready to confide in him. Now his job was to make her feel safe. He gave her one of his t-shirts so she could change out of her clothes and asked her to wait in the bedroom for him to return with a glass of water. 

She looked exactly like the night they first met. Underneath that hard shell she'd created for herself was still the same little girl who ran away from her parents' fight to a place where she felt safe. And he couldn't decide whether it was disheartening or endearing to see her this vulnerable. Maybe it was a terrible mixture of both. No matter how hard she tried to disregard the nine-year-old she once was, he knew from the sadness in her eyes that she had never really changed.

In silence, he watched her finish her water, smiling at the way his t-shirt looked too big on her. He wanted to just hold her in his arms and shower her face with sweet kisses until she fell asleep.

"I'll be right back," he said when she handed him back the empty glass. But when he turned away, her fingers were locked around his wrist, pulling him back to her.

"Don't go..." She begged. "Lie with me."

Harry was just about to say it would only take a minute, yet he didn't have the heart to deny Y/N's little request when she was giving him that face.

Nodding his head once, the man set the glass down on the nightstand then climbed onto the bed, pulling her close. Now that she was lying close to his chest, he thought she might feel his heart beat for her. They stayed in that position for a while, with him stroking her hair, and her fidgeting with the buttons of his white shirt. She loved the smell of his cologne which always put her at ease. While wearing his shirt and wrapped up in his arms, she was soaked in the scent of him, thinking she could stay like that forever and always.

"I read somewhere that when you lie too close to a person and can listen to their heart beat, your heart will slowly beat in sync with theirs," she said, which came out as a whisper and she felt his body shake with quiet laughter.

"Then your heart must be going insane right now." His joke made her eye roll, but he was staring at the ceiling so he probably had missed that precious smile she put on for him.

After another moment of silence, Y/N had regained her composure to finally tell Harry what had happened at the store, everything but the reason for the mark on her cheek, though she believed Harry had already figured it out. 

She breathed steadily, sorrow dawned on her face as she broke the silence once again, "when I was little, my dad used to say 'I love you' to my mum all the time. In the morning. In the afternoon. Before bed. Every single chance he got, he said those words to her. But one day he suddenly stopped. I assumed he just forgot somehow, not knowing the last time I heard him say he loved her would actually be the last." Her voice was trembling with various emotions. "From that day he raised his voice so often, he smashed furniture and made her cry instead of making her laugh. Maybe he never actually loved her. And those 'I love you's that he used to say every day meant nothing at all. It's just so depressing to think about it...isn't it? How fast a human's heart can change. How easy they can say those words and take them back whenever they want."

Harry's chest lifted when he sucked in a deep breath and slowly let it all out.

"Maybe he did love her at one point," he said, causing the girl to purse her lips.

"Is that what love supposed to be like? Something so fleeting that happens once and can just vanish the next moment?"

Those words really made Harry think.

"You're right." He nodded. "I guess not."

Shifting a bit so he could look at her face, he lifted her chin with his fingers so they were eye to eye and lips to lips.

"Don't think about him anymore," he told her. "Focus on me."

Y/N nervously giggled. For the first time since their kiss in the rain, Harry felt her shiver like a teenage girl being touched for the first time. There was something about the way the bedroom light reflecting in her weary eyes that got him hypnotized.

"Want you to fuck me," she whimpered, hot breath fanning his mouth before their lips attached for a passionate kiss. On spur of the moment, Harry shook his head rapidly, flipping them over so he was hovering above her. His pulsing member was right between her legs where she wanted him most now.

"Let's take it slow this time." He swallowed hard, stroking away the pain on her cheek with his thumb. "If that's alright with you."

Y/N could only answer by nodding fast, and that was all Harry had waited for to kiss her again, slipping his tongue past her lips, gasping when she held his hips down to feel him grow against her thigh. Slowly, as he wished, she unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off to reveal his bare chest, running her fingertips across his tattoos as if she was learning the map to remember every single detail inked on his torso. 

With a hand at the back of his neck, she pulled him down to get a taste of those lips again. She could never get over their sweetness and she enjoyed the way he groaned into her open mouth. His crotch was slightly rubbing against her clothed sex, creating some fiction to maintain the tiny bit of self-control he'd got left.

The feeling was so strange, overwhelming, yet made him feel complete. His t-shirt that she was wearing soon came off after she'd managed to get him out of his tight jeans. They made out slowly with only his boxers in the way as his fingers found their favorite spot between her thighs. He kissed her hard, wanting to devour down every single sound she made, loving all the different ways she whispered his name. He loved to know no one else had the privilege to make her feel this good. Only him.

"There you go, baby. Fuck, that's my girl," he growled into her mouth as she rode out her first orgasm, one hand gripping his wrist as the movements of his fingers was gradually slowing down. He could get off just by looking at the way her face screwed up for pleasure, knowing he was the only one who could touch her this way, kiss her this way, hold her this way. "All mine," Harry whispered, stroking her hair as he tugged down his boxers while she was recovering.

"All yours, H. Want you...fuck...want you inside..." The sounds she made was the most heavenly he'd ever heard. God, he loved every single word she said to him. The fact that they weren't in a rush turned him on even more. He was so hard for her that his eyes watered when her sweaty palm wrapped around him to stroke him slowly. It felt so good, but if she continued, this would end embarrassingly soon.

"Shit, baby...Stop..." He took her wrist and removed her hand quickly. His breathing became ragged when he rolled the condom on and kissed her again. Both of them gasped out loud the second he started to push in slowly for her to adjust to the fullness. Now they could feel everything at once.

His hand reached for hers and they interlocked as he kissed her tenderly, mumbling "you feel amazing" and "so tight for me" against her plump lips. He was completely mesmerized by the way she scrunched her nose and tossed her head back. He couldn't help it, he had to bite down on that pretty neck, causing her fingers to tangle in his messy hair. The feeling caused them both to shiver in complete pleasure and ecstasy.

His warm hands roamed all over her naked body, stroking her flushed skin with affection as he focused on every single thrust, going steady and deep, wanting her to feel all of him.

"You're so beautiful." He breathed into Y/N's mouth, making her laugh slightly as she opened her eyes to stare back at him.

"You're gorgeous," she whispered, holding onto his neck to bring his lips back on hers. He slowly massaged her my breast as they kiss, causing her back to arch as she rewarded him with another soft moan. For his every thrust, her chest rose and fell dramatically. He could feel her getting close as her drenched walls were squeezing him when they maintained eye contact. Her stare was intense, yet tender, and sweet. The noises she made when she fell apart would come back to haunt him in his most beautiful dreams. Harry pushed faster, one hand holding her face, the other holding one of her legs up so he could give it to her harder.

"Yes, baby, that's it...Fuck," he blurted through gritted teeth, feeling himself coming close but he didn't want to close his eyes in fear of missing out her reaction to how good he was making her feel. With one loud gasp, Y/N came hard around him. Harry felt so close to the edge, just a few pushes more...

But then it happened.

"Harry...I love you...."

His eyes shot open wide. In the haziness of his own pleasure, he could still hear those three words so loud and clear. It wasn't a mistake. Y/N breathed harshly through her nose as she clung onto his back when he shuddered and came hard into the condom.

I love you.

Those three words were now echoing inside his brain as both of them tried to catch their breath. Harry's expression hardened as he stared at Y/N, yet the girl only seemed confused.

"What's wrong?" She quietly giggled, stroking his cheek. "Did I say something silly when I came again?"

With that question, he knew she didn't realize it. She'd let those words slip out in the heat of the moment. She didn't even remember saying them.

"No." He pressed his lips into a nervous smile, but he guessed she couldn't see it through. "I kind of spaced out..."

Y/N stayed silent and kissed his nose. The beam on her face made him feel twice as guilty. What would he have done if those words hadn't got out by accident? Would he have said them back?

Now in the darkness of the room, with her warm body pressed against his, Harry felt so hard to breathe. The feeling was no different from having a panic attack, and he was glad that Y/N had fallen asleep and couldn't sense that something was definitely wrong. He couldn't even shut his eyes now, just lying there in silence, staring at the moonlit ceiling and thinking hard about those words she'd said, which scared him witless.

I love you.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, pinching his forehead as he tried to get rid of the voice inside his head that sounded just like her. He tried to count sheep in the hope that it would help him drift off, when the buzzing of his phone on the nightstand struck right through his brain. Y/N was too exhausted to be bothered by the noise, still, she did shift around a little bit, so Harry quickly turned off the alert before it woke her. 

But the moment he saw who was calling, the color all drained out of his face.

RUBY

[wild3flow3r]

Chapter Fifteen

June 3rd

Lorelai is pleasantly drunk. After just downing her sixth drink, she finds herself wrapped up in Harry’s arms with her back pressed against his chest. They are swaying back and forth to some song neither of them know from the live band playing in the overly crowded pub. Lorelai never thought turning twenty-eight would feel this good.

Harry leans down to sing some of the lyrics into her ear, but because he doesn’t know the words it just comes out as a garble of nonsense with a couple words from the real lyrics shining through. The laugh that passes Lorelai’s lips can’t be helped. Harry himself drank past his usual limit tonight. It is a celebration after all, he kept on repeating.

Even when the band ends their set and exits off the stage and everyone else in the crowd disbands, Lorelai and Harry barely move an inch. The soft beating of Harry’s heart into Lorelai’s ear blankets her into a sense of security. Harry’s arms tighten around her, both the one around her shoulders and the other around her torso.

“Whaddya wanna do now, birthday girl?” Harry speaks after a small hiccup.

“Wanna go bowling,” Lorelai murmurs back, loud enough so that her words can just be heard.

Lorelai feels Harry’s chuckles before she hears them. “Too late for that. We can go this weekend though.”

She whines but doesn’t argue with him. “Birthday present?”

Harry grins as he presses a kiss to her shoulder. “We gotta go home for that.”

Lorelai perks up and nods her head instantly. “Home we go then.” She untangles herself from him and makes her way over to her seat at the bar, picking up her purse.

“It’s only ten, we can stay a bit longer,” Harry says, leaning against the bar next to her seat. His eyes stare at her teasingly, but she only glares back.

“No,” Lorelai drags out the ‘o’ for a few syllables. “I want to go home to get my present.”

“But-”

Lorelai presses a finger against Harry’s lips, literally blocking his next words from coming out. “Call a cab.”

He nods his head mockingly before pulling his phone out and ordering a cab like he was told to. By the time he’s done he places a hand on the small of Lorelai’s back and leads her out of the pub for the night. He wraps his arm around her shoulders as they wait for the cab on the sidewalk.

“Can you give me a hint?” Lorelai eventually asks, breaking their short silence.

“Hmm?” Harry replies, looking down at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Can you give me a hint for my present?” she repeats.

Harry scoffs and shakes his head. “No way.”

Lorelai pouts. “Why not?”

“Because we’ll be home in twenty minutes and you’ll see it then.”

“Where have you been hiding it in my flat without me knowing?”

“I just put it somewhere you don’t often go.”

Lorelai frowns while thinking over his words in her head. Finally, she gasps. “You put it in the linen closet?”

Harry bites his bottom lip to hold back a smile and nods.

“How long have you had it there?”

“Put it there about four nights ago.”

“But what if I had to go in there for something!”

“You don’t.”

“But what if I did?”

“Well it’s pretty well hidden in there, just in case you had to go in there, although I was correct in assuming you wouldn’t. That closet is just for show, all the linen’s you usually use are in boxes underneath your bed.”

“I use that closet pretty often, thank you very much. I can’t believe you, hiding my present in my own house. You’re very cheeky.”

Harry gives an over exaggerated bow just as the cab pulls up to the curb. “Let’s go, shall we?”

Lorelai nods and wraps her arm around Harry’s. “Yes, let’s see how well you’ve hid the present in my moderately-”

“Never.”

“-used linen closet.”

***

“You can’t be serious.”

Lorelai’s sat on her bed, now changed into her pajamas after Harry threatened her or else she wouldn’t get the present. He’s since stripped out of his shirt, but still had his trousers on. He’s standing on the other side of the bed, watching her carefully.

“I’m being very serious.”

Lorelai stares at the small velvet box in one of her palms. Inside lay two things. One, a key to Harry’s apartment, and two, a necklace with a small teapot charm attached. Lorelai didn’t know which one to freak out over more. She picks up the key first.

Harry kneels down on the mattress in front of her. “I have to start working later nights now that I’m picking up some business. I won’t always be able to come around everyday anymore, but you could come around mine whenever you feel like it so even when I come home at two in the morning we’ll still be able to spend some time together, even if it’s just sleeping in the same bed.”

The tears well up in Lorelai’s eyes, her lips turning into a pout. “I could come over whenever I want?”

Harry nods enthusiastically. “Every day, if you want to. I’ll clear a drawer out for you in my dresser and everything.”

Lorelai leaps up, wrapping her arms around Harry’s neck and tackling him down so he’s lying on the mattress. She presses kiss after kiss all around his face, Harry breaking down into laughter at her.

“I’ve got to get a key made for you then.” Lorelai brushes her nose against Harry’s.

“I’d ask for a drawer as well, but I already take up a quarter of your closet with some of my suits.”

Lorelai looks up to see Harry’s recent addition to her room in the last couple of weeks. Every time he stayed the night he’d leave a suit behind, and it has started to take up some space recently. Lorelai sits up, but her legs are still straddling Harry’s waist. He remains on his back, staring up at her with hooded eyes. She picks up the box again and takes out the necklace.

It’s a simple necklace at first glance, but as Lorelai takes a closer look she realizes the elegance to it. It’s a round, silver teapot tipped over just slightly, a gold drop of tea falling out of the spout. Lorelai marvels at it, carefully tracing it with her index finger. She pushes her hair to the side and wraps the chain around her neck, securing the jewelry in place with the clasp. She lets it fall to her chest.

“Perfect,” Harry murmurs, reaching up to play with the necklace himself.

Lorelai blushes, because although he’d been playing with the necklace he was staring directly into her eyes. She leans down again to kiss him, but just before she presses her lips to his, Harry flips them around. He holds both of her hands with his, pushing them back into the mattress on either side of Lorelai’s head.

Slowly, softly, Harry trails kisses along Lorelai’s collarbone, his tongue pressing wet spots as he goes along. Once in a while he’ll put some pressure on her skin with his teeth, leaving small bite marks in his wake. Lorelai can never help the small whimper that leaves her lips whenever he does that. Eventually, he makes his way back up so he can press another kiss to her lips.

“You’re the best thing to have ever happened to me, Lorelai Sterling.”

~

June 27th

Lorelai got to work early today, all thanks to Harry of course. He wanted to get breakfast with her before he had to go in, and he dropped her off in front of the building a full twenty-five minutes before she was supposed to arrive.

“So you’ll come around mine tonight then? Won’t be home until ten, maybe eleven, but we could get breakfast again tomorrow morning together.”

“Sure thing,” Lorelai leaned over the console to place a quick kiss against Harry’s lips. “See you later.”

“Have a good day, Skipper.”

And Lorelai was sure it was going to be a good one, until she stepped off the elevator. Usually when she enters the office, Xavier’s door is slightly ajar and she can spot him leaning over his desk doing some kind of work. Today, it is shut tight, although she knows he’s in there by the small amount of light that falls out through the crack at the bottom of the door. And then there’s a moan, one that makes Lorelai instantly step back in embarrassment from overhearing her boss in such an intimate moment.

Lorelai isn’t sure what to do. She’s started to backtrack from the office, back to the elevator, but suddenly the office door opens and a woman steps out. Both of them freeze. Xavier steps out of his office to see the problem, stopping behind the woman. Their clothes are rumpled and hair a mess, signaling to Lorelai that they had probably been in there for quite some time.

“Lorelai-” Xavier starts, but she’s barely listening to him, because the woman standing in front of Xavier isn’t the woman Harry’s shown her pictures of as his aunt. And that’s not even the worse part.

“Listen, we can explain,” Xavier tries again, but Lorelai’s eyes won’t leave the woman.

“Why?” Lorelai whispers.

“What?” Xavier responds, a furrow to his eyebrows.

“Why?” she repeats, her voice much harsher now than before.

“You can’t tell Harry,” the woman whispers. Laura. Laura Styles. Harry’s mum.

“What?” Lorelai spits out, following quickly with an incredulous laugh.

“He doesn’t know. He can’t know.”

“Why would he care? I mean, he loves you, he wants the best for you, but I’m sure he wouldn’t give a flying fuck that you’re cheating on the father he hates with his Uncle. I mean, it’d be a great fuck you to Zachary-”

“Lorelai,” Xavier cuts her off.

And then it hits her. Lorelai’s never understood the expression ‘like a ton of bricks’ before, but now she does. But instead of all at once, it’s one brick being thrown at her at a time. Each new truth and revelation, all of the clues, hitting her one after another.

“How long?” Lorelai isn’t even sure if they can hear her.

“You have to understand-” Xavier starts.

“How long?” Lorelai yells, her hands balling into fists at her sides.

“Please, don’t tell Harry.” Tears begin to fall down Laura’s cheeks.

“Zachary doesn’t hate Harry for no reason, does he?”

“We messed up one time, but that’s all it took,” Xavier murmurs back. “And my brother knew it wasn’t his because the time frame didn’t add up. But our parents made us hide the secret, they didn’t want a scandal.”

“You have to tell him.”

Laura chokes back a sob. Finally, she says, “We can’t. It would ruin him.”

“Fuck what other people think, he deserves to know!”

“I don’t mean that,” Laura starts again, tears staining her face and her breaths coming out in short pants. “He wouldn’t be able to handle the truth. It would break him. After everything he’s gone through already, he can’t go through something like this.”

“I can’t keep this from him. How would you expect me to keep this from him?”

Laura takes a step towards Lorelai, but she backs away from her. “You love him, don’t you?”

“I-” Lorelai stops herself. They haven’t said it to each other yet, Lorelai didn’t think they would for a while longer, but she knew she did. She did love him. “Yes.”

“You know this will hurt him. If you love him, then you won’t tell him.”

“If I loved him then I would. I wouldn’t hide something like this from him. He deserves to know. He deserves to know that Xavier is his father.”

Both Laura and Xavier flinch at the words. The two of them probably have never spoken the words themselves, and if they have then the last time they did was probably well over three decades ago now.

“You shouldn’t be the one to tell him,” Xavier fights back.

“Then you guys do it!”

“He’s going through so much right now. With his new job and Zachary harassing him almost daily, trying to figure out his relationship with you, this is too much right now.” Laura tries to defend herself, but it just sounds like excuses. She’s probably been making them his entire life, new reasons on why he shouldn’t know.

“I can’t sleep in his bed with him, eat dinner with him, spend any time with him while knowing this. I can’t do that to him. I can’t lie to him.”

“You won’t be lying,” Xavier tries.

“Hiding the truth is lying.”

“Lorelai, you just don’t understand-”

“I understand that I love him, and because of that I understand that he should know this. I know I shouldn’t be the one to tell him, I know doing that might even make him hate me by default, but if you guys loved him, if you care about him just as you claim you do, then you should have told him a long time ago.”

With that, Lorelai finally turns around and leaves the office, leaves the building, and leaves to figure out how to tell Harry.

***

It was nearly noon when Lorelai meets up with Harry. She feels sick to her stomach, but she can’t be with Harry knowing this. Who could?

They meet at a small park, Harry instantly agreeing to meet her after he heard the tremble of her voice over the phone. Lorelai stands up to greet him, lifts her arms up for a hug, but Harry stops a few feet away from her, holding a hand up to ward her off.

“Harry-”

“My mother already told me,” he grits out. “She told me everything.”

Lorelai lets out a breath of relief. She’s thankful that he’d heard it from his mum rather than him. But still, why was he holding her back.

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t waste your time.”

Lorelai takes a step back, the words physically having pushed her back.

“What?”

“She showed me the emails.”

Lorelai frowns, her eyes hardening. “What emails?”

“The ones to your family.”

“What are you talking about? What did your mother tell you?”

“You put up a really good act these last few months. Pretending you cared about me when all you wanted was my money. My family's money.”

Like a punch to the chest, Lorelai is breathless. It makes sense, really, it does. Xavier has access to Lorelai’s email account, he could’ve created some fake emails as soon as she left the office.

“No, Harry. That’s not what’s happening-”

“And my mother and uncle tried to confront you about it this morning. I can’t believe you, Lorelai!”

“You have to listen to me-”

“What? Why would I want to listen to any more of your bullshit lies. I trusted you!”

“No, Harry, no, they’re lying. They’re lying to you, that’s not what happened.” Her chest heaves, barely being able to breathe. There aren’t any tears yet, but she knows they’ll be here soon.

“They have proof, Lorelai! They’ve sent my proof! You’ve been planning this for months, ever since I fired you from Clemens & Son.”

“No-”

“Don’t bother going back to Xavier’s office anymore, you’re done there. And I want my key back,” Harry holds out his hand.

“You have to listen to me.”

“You can stop pretending now. Just give me the key.”

“Harry-”

“The key, Lorelai!”

For a second, only a second, Harry lets the anger disappear from his face to show the pain. To show the absolute heartbreak he’s feeling in that moment, the same heartbreak Lorelai is suffering. But then, it’s back to anger, ten times worse than he was before.

Lorelai hands over the key, unsure of what else to do. He wasn’t listening to her, he wasn’t giving her the chance to speak. He isn’t going to find out the truth, and Laura made sure of that.

“Goodbye, Lorelai.” Harry steps away, turning around, and walks away with finality. The end of their relationship.