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1d1195 · 2 years

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Boyfriends I

There was nothing that could ruin this euphoria she felt. He was the perfect first boyfriend. The perfect boyfriend.

Boyfriends / They think you’re so easy / They take you for granted / They don’t know / They’re just misunderstanding you / You’re back at it again

It started out just as any other relationship did. They met in college. He lived in the same dorm as her and their circles of friends intersected every so often. He told funny jokes that made her giggle from afar. When he heard that giggle and he answered with a sweet smile, she was done for. But for her entire life, she was never the girl boys flirted with; that was always her friends who knew way better how boys operated than she did. It was hard to believe anyone would even look her way when her whole life was spent being looked over.

But that smile...

How could she not hope?

It took some time, but she realized he was smiling at her. He was flirting with her. Her heart was a mess. Her poor friend was subject to so many questions. Questions she felt should have been answered back in elementary school let alone high school. There were so many things she didn’t know how to do. Like how do you hold a guy’s hand? How do you kiss one? What do you feed it?

When he finally asked her out on a date, he gave her hand a squeeze as they walked back from her class—where he met her after his class let out.

“You’re a natural,” he said softly in her ear. He could sense her distrust in herself. The anxiety about the situation rolled off her in waves. His hand squeezed hers and he smiled kindly at her.

“I’ve always been a fast learner,” she joked but he didn’t miss the blush that covered her cheeks.

“That doesn’t surprise me,” he said to her.

She confided in her friend that she was terrified. “What twenty-year old doesn’t know how to kiss?” She asked her as they got her ready for their first official date.

“If you’re really that nervous, I’ll show you,” she joked. She rolled her eyes.

“Give me one more week and I’ll take you up on that,” she muttered.

“Look,” her friend was looking at her in the mirror. “If he’s worthy of you, he’s not going to give one care in the world,” she said knowingly. “Remember that please. He’s got to be worthy of you,” she reminded him. “No matter how dreamy he is or how much you like him, I honestly don’t care; if he doesn’t treat you well, I will literally murder him,” it sounded like a promise. She felt she had no choice but to believe her best friend.

“I feel like I won’t be good enough.”

“Girl,” she shook her head. “You’re going to be way better.”

She wished she believed that was true.

She really wished she believed it when it was true.

They talked about their families and their hometown friends. He told her about his plans when he graduated at the end of the next year, and he asked her how much longer she had before she would be off to her next adventure. He was one year ahead of her, but she was a year ahead of all her friends who arrived at the same time. He decided she was much too smart for him but he didn’t care. He told her he loved her giggle and he held her hand while they waited for the waiter to cash out their check. It was warm and natural. She didn’t feel awkward.

Because the spring weather was just arriving, they walked back to their dorm taking an extra lap around campus. They held hands, told jokes, chatted more and more until her feet were sore and she reminded him she had a test the next morning.

He walked her right to her room and smiled sheepishly at her. “Would it be alright if I kissed you?” He asked. She nodded eagerly and enjoyed the foreign feel of lips on hers. It was better than she imagined, and she hoped she was as fast a learner as he said she was when they held hands.

It was the perfect first date.

He was undeniably sweet. He would walk her to and from class when he wasn’t actively in class or halfway across campus. On long days she would find a coffee outside her room with a note. When she was at work at the bookstore, he may have meandered in more than necessary to chat with her while she organized the shelves and helped people find their books. On date nights—almost every Saturday—he treated her to a movie and dinner. As an active member of his fraternity, she was at every fancy event looking stunning and garnering the attention of all his friends.

Since she had a car on campus, she was able to drive him to the grocery store to help him stock his apartment with friends. She helped him clean it and do his laundry. She didn’t blink twice doing these things. She wanted to. He would rub her neck while she studied and was sure to give her a whole bunch of kisses when she was stressed and tired before she’d fall asleep watching a movie he picked out on the couch.

Like he said, she was a natural.

“I told you, you would be the best,” her friend reminded her. “I knew you would be,” she smirked. But she still felt a sense of uneasiness. Thinking about finals had made her uneasy to begin with; the new relationship just added to it. She spent a lot of time studying and he didn’t resent her for it, but she sensed his annoyance at her lack of time for him. She balanced as best she could but there were times, she had to say no.

When she worried about those times, she usually made it up to him by making homemade brownies or chocolate chip muffins. Enough for his whole frat. Once the guys were on her side, there was no stopping her. He had no choice but to adore her and he very much did. “You’re the best, angel,” he told her and kissed her forehead as she ironed his shirt for a formal gathering.

As they moved out of their dorm, she worried about the summer apart from him for such an extended time, but she managed to rationalize it: she would be there for her summer course, she would tutor the days she had class, the weekends were theirs.

And it went perfectly. The summer was beautiful. Her skin was tanned, and her heart was full. It was everything she dreamed about and more.

There was nothing that could ruin this euphoria she felt. He was the perfect first boyfriend. The perfect boyfriend.

She wouldn’t be able to pinpoint it. Sometime after the ten-month mark but before the one-year mark. It was different. At the end of the fall semester, she was able to chalk it up to his lack of planning to study for some of his more intense finals. Early in their relationship she found out quickly he didn’t plan well.

That’s where she was the best. “Thank you, angel,” he said gratefully.

She did everything and more for him. He didn’t expect her to. But he didn’t stop her either. Sure, he did sweet things for her. He would buy her dinner when they went out to eat. He fixed things for her when she asked (but that meant she actually had to ask, which was rare). While he waited for her to ask, he never waited for her to do. She never waited for him to ask her. She volunteered readily. She helped with anything. Bending over backwards to appease his every need before he even knew he needed it.

“Thank you, angel,” it was said as a mantra more than it was out of true thankfulness.

He adored her; at least she thought he did. On her toughest and most busy days she worried that he adored the stuff she did.

It didn’t happen all at once. It was slow and gradual. The comfort of having her around all the time waiting on him hand and foot. He stopped doing the sweet things he did at the beginning of their relationship. He didn’t walk her from class to class. He didn’t meet her to walk her back to their dorm. He no longer got her a coffee after a long day, nor did he voluntarily offer to take her on cool dates and things. The neck rubs stopped. He wasn’t around all the time.

She was just...there. She never missed a fraternity event he asked her to be at. If he needed a baked good, she was already in the kitchen. Laundry or grocery shopping, she was always there to help.

She was there all the time.

While he was exhausted from studying, she was going to dinner with her friend. Her eyes were just as tired, maybe even more so than his but he didn’t notice...or he did but pretended not to.

Her best friend noticed, of course. They sat at the table where she had her first date almost a year ago. He would be graduating in a mere few weeks. Their relationship was going to change again. It made her nervous. Still feeling so new at the girlfriend thing, she worried about what she was doing and if it was enough. “Can I say something without you getting mad?” Her friend wondered. Her eyebrows together she glanced up at her friend as she asked the question. She nodded solemnly, sleepily. Pushing her straw around in her drink as she thought about the next final she needed to start studying for, the clothes she needed to iron for him, and the packing and cleaning they would have to do before he had to move out of his apartment by the end of the month. “Are you happy?” She asked.

She looked up from her drink and tilted her head. “Why would you ask that?”

She rolled her eyes. “Girl,” she said softly. “You’re exhausted. I haven’t seen you smile in I don’t know how long... and... I miss your laughter,” she said quietly.

She thought about it for a moment because she realized it had been so long since she had laughed. Really laughed. Her stomach didn’t feel tight from being short of breath from her own joke or one of his. She hadn’t spent this quality time with her best friend in so long. “Y-yeah...” she said shaking her head. “Of course, I am,” she said more confidently than she felt.

Her friend’s eyes looked completely unsure. “I want to believe you so badly.”

“But you don’t?” She wondered. A voice in the back of her head was screaming but was unable to be heard by the idea of a boy actually loving her. In any form. Keep asking. Keep pressing. Let me out!

“No...because...I’ve seen you happy...and this isn’t it.”

She opened her mouth to respond but she was interrupted.

“Hi,” the pair turned to the voice at the side of their table. He was looking right at her. Almost into her soul. It stole her breath a moment before she steadied her heart. “M’so sorry. I promise I never do this, but I... I can’t take m’eyes off you,” he said softly to her. He took a deep breath with a sheepish grin on his lips. He was looking at her again with these stunning eyes. “You’re...you’re in m’horrible eight in the morning math class and you’re...you’re brilliant,” he said. “I... jus’ wanted to say hi and... this is my number. You don’t have to use it...but you’re beautiful and brilliant and... okay, m’gonna go now,” he said shyly and turned on his heel before he could be rejected.

After a beat of silence her friend sipped her drink and eyed her suspiciously. She smirked impishly at her. “Well...” she chuckled. “There’s the happiness I knew you had in you.” She snorted looking over the white napkin with the scrawly writing on it. “What’s it say? Who is that?” She wondered.

“Uh...” she shook her head and tried to picture anyone in that early morning class. She was the only one awake and sat in the front like a goody-two-shoes. She didn’t know anybody except the professor. “Harry,” she said reading the scribbly napkin.

“Harry, hmm...” she hummed appreciatively. “Harry had very nice eyes...and nice fingers.”

“You listened to what he said and had time to notice his fingers?” She wondered with a laugh.

She smiled at the sound of the laughter. “Girl...if you do it right, that should be like the third thing you notice.”

That sent her into a fit of giggles that made her wonder if she really was happy.

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1d1195 · 2 years

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Made to be V

The rest of the story: Made to be

Warnings: very fluffy and a lot of kissing

Essentially, he told her the entirety of all his past relationships: he had a few girlfriends and came home to meet his mum. There wasn’t anything wrong with the relationships, but it never progressed much further than that. There was hardly a story to tell about any of them.

But for her?

Oh, there was going to be a novel. An epilogue. A sequel. Poems, songs, and a movie would be written about her.

Holidays

“Harry didn’t know what size you were,” Gemma said with an eye roll. “Refused to snoop through your laundry for us,” she smirked. Harry flicked his sister on the cheek. “Mum, he assaulted me!” She said rubbing her cheek. She giggled at the sibling display and Harry leaned over and kissed her cheek sloppily, licking her egregiously, causing Gemma to fake gag. “Are you going to do something about your son?”

“No,” Anne grinned.

Gemma turned her gaze back to the poor girl subject to these family shenanigans. “She loves him more because he’s the baby. Always gets his way.”

Anne rolled her eyes and sipped from her wine glass while she nibbled on some of the snacks spread on the coffee table in between the pairs of them. “Oh, like you’re not the princess,” Harry scoffed.

“I’m the oldest too,” she remarked to Gemma. “Babies are the worst,” she winked at Harry.

“Kitten!” He said pressing a hand over his heart. “I’m...” he looked so betrayed, even if it was pretend. It made her heart flutter, and she wrinkled her nose at Harry so cutely he could have passed out. He loved her banter, it fit right in with his family—his three favorite women in one room.

“Thank you, love,” Gemma said reaching across the coffee table to pat her on the leg and settle her glass down. It nearly killed Harry to have her seated so far away, but it was probably for the best. He might not have been able to control himself long enough to interact with his family while seated next to her. His family was close, but he wasn’t ready to make out with her in front of them and right now, kissing her until he was breathless was all he could think about. “The point is, if they don’t fit, we bought a different size and can return them later,” she explained.

“I wasn’t going t’go through her laundry,” he rolled his eyes. “Very invasive of you.”

“We’re one of those matching pajama families,” Anne explained for her benefit while the siblings argued. “Don’t feel obligated. But if you want to match, you can,” she smiled sweetly. “We didn’t want you to feel excluded. You’re always welcome here, love,” she promised simply.

Anne said it as if she said it to everyone that showed up on her doorstep (and maybe she did, she seemed like the most welcoming mother and person in the world). But she was still overcome with emotion. She always did well with moms. She couldn’t even say a bad thing about her ex’s mom. Despite her son being Harry’s worst enemy, she always made her feel welcomed, even after that first year of not knowing she was in a relationship with her son. She always felt at home when she was at his parents’ house and if she thought for a little longer, toward the end of their relationship she might have liked his family more than she liked him.

But naturally, she was actively in love with Harry. For her to love his family as well was more than she could have hoped for in such a short time. They did adore her as Harry said they did and would. Anne was wonderful, of course. Opening her house and intimate holiday up to a total stranger that Harry had just sprung on her no more than three weeks ago. She seemed to know exactly what to say to her when any subject seemed to get touchy (not that there was many—but there was a dicey conversation over what was better chocolate or coffee, and Harry and Gemma were ready to start a full-on battle). She had a plethora of snacks and drinks that eased all worries. It didn’t make a difference to her if she was all dolled up or not. Anne even told her how beautiful she looked fresh from bed, and she wished she had her naturally wavy hair. Her compliments were so heartfelt. It was impossible to not feel right at home in Harry’s house. “That’s...very kind of you, thank you.”

“Harry wakes us all up at sunrise to open presents like a toddler,” Gemma further explained before Anne could speak again.

He rolled his eyes. “I like Christmas, Gem,” he said.

She giggled and Harry’s heart softened at the sound, and he smiled at her so beautifully it made his mom and sister disappear from the room. She felt very warm with his gentle look on her face. Taking a sip of her wine was the only thing she could remember to do so as not to combust from Harry’s attention. She wondered if his mom and sister noticed—although it didn’t look like it was possible to miss it. Harry was mesmerized by the sweet girl. His family knew it the moment he crossed the threshold with the beautiful, darling girl beside him.

“Mum usually makes a frozen pizza the night before Christmas. Saves us from eating too much in preparation for the big day,” Gemma told her. “We didn’t know what kind of pizza you’d like though, so we got three different kinds. Harry didn’t want to pressure you, said you would get all out of sorts being made a fuss of,” Gemma rolled her eyes. “Do you have a preference?” She asked.

He was right, of course. However, the three pizzas felt like more of a fuss than just asking what kind of pizza she liked. It nearly sent her spiraling. “Gemma, kindly shut up,” he said sweetly knowing implicitly that she was going to go practically crazy being made into a fuss. Fortunately, Harry didn’t have to worry because he heard that adorable light laughter he admired so much and knew that she wasn’t going to spin out of control at the thought of having to decide what pizza she wanted.

But she didn’t think she would after all because much like Harry, his mother and sister were so, so nice.

She already adored Gemma. She liked the way she bickered with Harry. It kept him humble. Someone should be able to keep him humble because it certainly wasn’t going to be her. Harry walked on water for her, he was perfect in every way and his sister made sure he never knew how special he was—at least not enough to give him an ego. Much like her mother, she was also extremely complimentary. Gemma loved every article of clothing she wore over the last two days kindly demanded they go shopping together the next time she visited Harry. She loved her American accent and her kind demeanor. Gemma asked about books she liked read, how she got into teaching, and when her birthday was. She was perfect and made her feel so at home as well, just like her brother.

“Uh...no, no preference. I like all pizza,” she promised.

“So easy going,” Gemma smirked and headed for the kitchen.

“Can I help at all?” She asked standing immediately. Harry and his mother made eye contact and look passed between them. Without time to process, she headed after Gemma anyway. Anne caught her by the hand as soon as she reached the back of the sofa. She felt like she was doing something wrong, and she knew that look between Harry and his mother meant something. She felt her face warm under their gazes. She didn’t know what, but it felt like she was intruding, and she wanted to help Gemma in the kitchen, desperately.

“Love, just sit and enjoy your stay, please,” she said softly, reassuring her that there was nothing wrong, everything was okay. “Really, let me refill your glass,” she said and plucked the glasses from the table and headed after her daughter. Harry smiled patting the sofa beside him and there wasn’t a place on earth she would ever to turn away her chance to sit next to Harry. He was all happy grins as she situated herself beside him. He immediately pressed his hand on her thigh and gave it a small squeeze. It shot right through all the veins in her legs and directly to her heart that skipped a beat at his touch. “Sorry ‘bout Gem,” he rolled his eyes.

“M'sisters are going to eat you alive, Mr. Styles,” she promised with the laugh he adored so much. His eyes were trained on her, and she looked back unable to turn from him—even if she wanted to look away. Somehow, Harry got his smile to be brighter than it already was. His dimple was so deep she was surprised his cheek didn’t burst from the pressure of it aching around the dip in his face.

“I can’t wait t’meet them,” he said sweetly. It was so warm the way he said it. He meant it, not that she thought he didn’t. But to hear him say it was everything she could hope for. Wanting to meet her crazy family and not minding if they ate him alive.

She blushed. “They’re...very different than Gemma,” she said. “They’re not going to be as sweet—”

“Well, love, m’not sure where you’ve been the past few days...but Gem has not been sweet.”

She rolled her eyes and placed her hand on top of his. It was getting easier and very comfortable to touch Harry. She thought about weaning herself off touching him already even after the short amount of time only because she couldn’t help herself. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to be like her students at school: unable to keep themselves away from each other and being asked to separate by adults. And unlike the teens that found a way around it at school, they weren’t going to have a choice.

But here in England, in the privacy of Harry’s house, she was more than happy to oblige and keep their hands connected. He released her leg to hold her hand, bring her fingers to his lips and kiss them gently, sweetly. Little pecks that lit small little fires all through her hand, aching her heart. “Did I do something wrong?” She asked softly. “When I went to help Gem?”

His eyebrows pinched together, and he brought their entwined hands to his own lap and shook his head. “Nothing comes t’mind,” he smirked.

“You and your mom looked at each other when I offered.”

Harry never thought he was one to embarrass easily. Silly things of course: tripping in public or not understanding one of his student’s jokes for way longer than he should have. But she made him feel warm at least once a day. His cheeks pinked and he looked off shyly for a minute before turning back to her. “Y’caught that, hmm?” He smiled lovingly at her and gave her hand another squeeze.

“Well, yeah. You couldn’t miss it. Was there a tradition I broke? Or did I ruin—”

“My God kitten, d’you think I’d’ve brought you here if I thought you’d ruin the holiday?” He asked with an eye roll and shake of his head. He sighed deeply. He knew why she felt that way. She had spent at the last four months—and maybe longer, he had no way of knowing and he was glad he didn’t know how long it went on for—feeling like she couldn’t do anything right and at every turn she made mistake that was under careful watch, and she didn’t even know if she was being observed or doing something wrong.

She was silent for a moment while Harry tilted his head at her, and he looked at her so wholly it melted her into the couch. She stayed silent because she was worried she would start crying if she tried to say anything. Anything that fell from her lips might be an embarrassing confession or she would start begging Harry to marry her and never, ever leave her.

“S’never really come up, kitten. But ‘ve had a few girlfriends come home before. None have ever offered t’help with anything like you do. Mum never wanted their help, but she thinks it says a lot ‘bout a person,” he explained. “I never really thought ‘bout it, t’be honest,” he shrugged. “But...you offered t’help so many times and ‘ve only been here two days...had other girls here for...a couple weeks,” maybe she should have felt jealous, but she didn’t. She simply didn’t care about other girls in Harry’s life. She was here and now. They lived together already. He had known her only three months and he invited her to Christmas. He told her he was in love with her despite everything in her crazy life.

“S’jus’...” he shook his head. “M’not making sense,” he said softly, and his eyes finally met hers again. She hadn’t moved her gaze from him. “M’jus’ really happy you’re here,” he finished giving her hand another squeeze. But she did understand. Harry was different than any guy she knew. He adored her and she would never ask but she knew he would move mountains for her. It meant a lot to him that she was willing to help his mom. It meant a lot that she was there and cared about Harry and his family. “You could never ruin anything, angel,” he promised. “Especially not here.”

She didn’t know what to say. Everything felt so good here, almost like it was too much. “Are you alright, love?” He asked when she was quiet for longer than he thought she would be. It had been so long since anyone had ever said anything so sweet to her that wasn’t her mom. Harry made her feel so good and whole. It was like she was breathing fresh air for the first time in her life. He made her feel like she was at the top of a mountain at sunrise, the first sign of light after a big snowstorm, or the way the moon rose on the horizon in the middle of the ocean. He made her feel like she could just breathe for the first time in almost a decade. She felt like she couldn’t do anything wrong by him.

“Could you kiss me, please?” She asked softly, her voice so small and shy. Harry could have cried if she wasn’t so sweet. When his mum and sister weren’t in the next room, he would be sure to tell her as long as she never asked him to leave, he would never deny her a kiss or a touch or really anything her heart wanted or asked for. She could have whatever she wanted of Harry, and he would do anything to please her.

A surprised chuckle escaped his lips and he nodded. “Yeah, love. I can do that,” he said bringing his other hand to the side of her face that seared her skin in the best way. He kissed her gently, a brush of his lips between hers. It still felt so new but already felt like home when they kissed. She sighed with relief at the feel of his mouth on hers. It felt like she had broken the seal of kisses upstairs in his childhood bedroom and she was awaiting as many as she could get her lips on.

He pulled away and pressed another kiss to the bridge of her nose and then one to her forehead. “Later,” he said softly in her ear and pulled her toward him, so her body was snug against his. His mum and Gemma were reentering the room with three frozen pizzas and four glasses of wine. She jumped up from Harry’s embrace taking plates and a pizza from the two women.

“Jeez Harry, can’t get off y’lazy butt?” Gemma smirked at him.

He rolled his eyes as she passed Harry the glasses of wine she took from his mom. “Gemma, quit making me look bad.”

“You do that all on your own,” she said.

“My goodness, children,” Anne sighed. “But yes, Harry you shouldn’t make the poor girl wait on you hand and foot.”

“Thank you,” Gemma said knowingly.

She blushed and looked at Harry with that cute little nose crinkle of hers, melting Harry to bits on the sofa. “Thank you, kitten,” he said softly as she handed him a slice of pizza.

Harry didn’t want to make assumptions about sleeping in bed with her again, so he started to make the makeshift bed on the floor again while she brushed her teeth. She came back with her hair pulled into a braid and the pajamas that matched his. He had never seen anything so sweet in his life except for the way her eyebrows pressed together making her look distraught. “You’re not gonna sleep in the bed?” She asked. Harry smirked and immediately she threw a hand over her mouth. “Oh my God,” she whispered looking at the floor and hiding her face from Harry.

“Um...I didn’t want t’presume,” he said softly. “I...I can sleep in the bed, if y’want.”

“Made it abundantly obvious what I want, I guess,” she grumbled.

He chuckled. “Kitten, I would ‘ve asked myself if y’gave me the chance t’ask,” he promised with an impish grin on his lips.

“You’re awfully cheeky, Mr. Styles,” she grumbled. “Maybe you should sleep on the floor.”

“Would be worth it.” Rolling her eyes, she climbed into bed and held the blanket up for Harry to climb in beside her. The already familiar squeak greeted them, and Harry shifted so she was wrapped up close to him. He couldn’t see her face as she was tucked below his chin allowing for her to get fresh air even though she was trapped against his body. She had her arm linked near his, underneath the pillows and her other arm tucked close between their bodies resting near his chest. “S’this okay?” He asked. She nodded silently. “Are y’okay, love?” He asked.

“We have the same pajamas,” she said softly. Of course, they both knew that—she looked better in them, Harry would admit it.

“D’you want me t’change?” He asked.

She flicked his chest and ignored his joke. “S’nice,” she whispered into the dark. “You...you make me feel...like...” she huffed just barely in frustration. “I just feel really good around you, Harry,” she breathed.

He smiled weakly not wanting to make her feel weird for the confession. He didn’t mind in the slightest, but he knew she felt a little awkward about being so open and in love so quickly after leaving her relationship not even a month ago. He didn’t want to harp on it and make her more uncomfortable. He just wanted her to be herself and for her to enjoy his company as much as Harry enjoyed hers. Instead, he brought his hand up to the side of her neck and gently tilted her head back so he could pretend he could see her face in the darkening room running his thumb across her lips so he could feel where they were when he gave her his next direction. “M’gonna kiss you now,” he warned her.

She smiled against the pad of his thumb and gave a simple nod. “Please.”

“Love, please get in the picture,” Anne said softly. Gemma had nearly berated her for suggesting she wouldn’t be in the picture of the four of them in matching pajamas early in the morning. (It wasn’t sunrise, but Harry did wake everyone with the promise of his homemade pancakes.)

“I-I will!” She pleaded and avoided all the hands tugging her toward their little group so she could be in the picture. “But how often do you get a picture of just the three of you?” She asked. Harry smirked and tucked himself into his mum’s side knowing there was no use in arguing with the pretty angel. “I promise I’ll get in the next one.”

“This is ridiculous,” Gemma grumbled but smiled, nonetheless.

“Don’t be a sourpuss,” Harry mumbled under his breath.

They obligingly let her take a few photos of just the three of them and as much as they complained, he knew they were grateful. They didn’t have a lot of photos of the three of them, she was right, of course. Really it was so special to have a Christmas together and Harry’s heart was bursting with love for her and her sweet self.

While Gemma was setting up the timer for the four of them and she settled back against Harry’s side in front of the tree, he was exceedingly grateful for the feel of her against his body. Of course, it had barely been an hour since they left the warmth of the small bed. But to be so close while they slept made it feel like she belonged there attached at his hip. She belonged among his family and of course all the presents. Harry knew she was better than all the presents he was going to get today. Getting to wake up beside her and pepper her sweet face with little kisses was more than he could have asked for the next ten Christmases and then some. She had smiled as his lips breathed the obligatory Happy Christmas against her flushed skin and he continued his torrent of pecks along her hair line while she was barely awake.

“Merry Christmas, Harry,” she said softly. “Didn’t see any mistletoe in here,” she murmured as he kissed all over her face, getting a few kisses on her lips while she spoke.

“Do y’want me t’stop?” He asked with a grin but never halting the kisses in between the words.

“Never, ever,” she sighed softly and rested her head back on her pillow while Harry continued to kiss her perfect face.

The smile on his face had to have been growing while Gemma got the second picture timer up. As his sister settled into her spot again, he pressed a kiss to the lovely girl’s cheek, just in time for the snapshot. He was hoping at the very least Gemma could crop it and he could frame the very first picture of them together.

It was decided that Harry’s entire family adored her, possibly more than they adored him, and quite certainly more than they ever liked any of his other girlfriends. They weren’t shy about it, and they asked him where they were hiding her all this time he had been in the states. They weren’t privy to the fact he had only met her just this year. Not that he was hiding it, but it was definitely something to explain in the middle of a busy holiday.

Thanks to Harry’s family tree quiz, she remembered everyone’s name with ease. She spent much of the night trying to engage in conversation with everyone. The entire time Harry saw her interacting with his family he just couldn’t believe how simple and easy it was to have someone he adored so much fit so effortlessly in his life. Harry wasn’t crazy when it came to relationships. Essentially, he told her the entirety of all his past relationships: he had a few girlfriends and came home to meet his mum. There wasn’t anything wrong with the relationships, but it never progressed much further than that. There was hardly a story to tell about any of them.

But for her?

Oh, there was going to be a novel. An epilogue. A sequel. Poems, songs, and a movie would be written about her. He said it to her at least twice before and he never meant it lightly, she was made to be in his life. Every part of it. She was perfect in every way.

Harry is so glad she said yes to coming here because knowing what he knew now, how easy it was to have her around his family, he would have begged. He wouldn’t have even cared if it seemed silly. Seeing her now, smiling and laughing at the people he adored most in the world all together and happy...he could hardly stand it.

“She’s lovely, Harry,” Mum said softly to him wrapping an arm around her tall son. She looked up at him with a smile. “You make her very happy,” she said.

“She makes me very happy,” he replied. She grinned and gave him a squeeze. She caught them staring at her and she gave a small wave while returning to her conversation with his cousins. Harry always loved Christmas. Always, always.

But every Christmas paled in comparison to Christmas with her.

It was tough to leave Harry’s house after feeling so at home, herself. She promised she would come back. Promised Gemma she would take her shopping the next moment she set foot in America. Promised she would keep Harry grounded and humble, too. But she didn’t think he needed it.

She wasn’t sure what Harry had told Anne about her situation, she assumed he must have told her something. But if he did, she never mentioned anything up until she was getting a hug goodbye at the airport. “Harry better not lose you,” she said softly. She smiled nervously and felt her cheeks warm at her sentiment. Anne took her hand and squeezed it between hers and she smiled gently. “I know he saved you, but you saved him, too, love,” she reminded her

The thought of responding to that made her want to cry. So, she swallowed around the lump in her throat and just nodded not fully believing the words but how was she supposed to deny the woman that knew Harry better than anyone? Harry had said the same thing to her, but she didn’t see how that was possible. Anne winked at her as Harry gave her another hug and she shook her head away of all the overwhelming emotions and gave Gemma another hug before Harry was ushering them through the busy airport once more.

“I thought we’d spend the New Year in our apartment,” Harry said bitterly. She grabbed his hand as he bristled angrily about the stupid delays that had plagued their flight back home. She was getting sleepy as the hours drew on, but she had read a good chunk of her book, holding Harry’s hand in his while they lounged in the airport. Not many people were flying on this holiday eve, so they were able to spread their belongings on the floor to make a makeshift couch of their bags at their feet and slouched in the airport chairs. “M’sorry, kitten.”

“What are you apologizing for, Harry?” She giggled sweetly putting her book back in her bag and turning to him. “You brought me to your family’s holiday, got me way too many presents—”

“Didn’t get y’nearly enough,” he grumbled angrily.

“—and I got to hear all those great stories about you from your family, and it’s not like you delayed the plane,” she said knowingly.

He shrugged, annoyed by the circumstance. “Jus’ feel bad.”

She squeezed his hand but nodded understandingly. “I hope not for me.”

He smiled shaking his head and brought her fingers to his lips to press a kiss to her knuckles. She had never really noticed hand holding before, but she really liked holding Harry’s hand. Every time he kissed the top of her hand or the tips of her fingers she felt like the most special girl in the world. “Who else, m’love?”

She rolled her eyes. “Silly,” she said softly. “I don’t mind. It’s just more time I get to spend with you,” she reminded him. His heart warmed at her comment. She thoroughly enjoyed spending time with him as much as he loved to be around her. Going back to work, even lucky enough to be separated by the hallway between them, was going to be a nightmare to be apart.

“Hadn’t thought of it like that, kitten...but we’d be at home together anyway?” He phrased it as a question.

She felt her face heat up at his quick realization. “Uh...yeah, but we’d be sleeping. This way we get to be awake,” she said.

“Yeah, but s’gonna be past midnight, angel,” he said with a frown. “We don’t get t’watch the ball drop or have a proper sleepy kiss before bed,” he mumbled at the end.

She tilted her head at him. “Um...but we get to kiss on the plane at midnight...and I think that’s...I didn’t know I had a bucket list item like that, but apparently I do.”

Harry smiled at her, his face sleepy and ready for bed but he was happy about her idea. He hadn’t thought of the prospect of kissing her sweetly on the plane over an ocean between his two favorite countries. He planned to be the end of her terrible year and start off a whole new one that would be sure to leave her heart happy and content. “Such a smart girl, kitten,” he whispered and brought his face closer to her lips. He bumped his nose against hers and kissed her lips quickly. “Gonna try and save the kiss for midnight,” he winked.

She grinned and felt her cheeks warm at his flirting. “M’not sure I will last that long without a kiss,” she said taking note of the time on her watch and looking away nervously. Like he would actually fault her for wanting to kiss him more than just at midnight.

Harry smiled brightly. “Don’t worry kitten, could never make you want,” he told her and pressed a kiss to her forehead and then one long one to her lips without a care for anyone else in the whole airport.

When they were finally boarded, snug in their seats, and listening to the people count down from ten she wondered if anyone else felt like they were made to be kissing the most perfect person they’d ever met. She wondered if their kiss would have felt different if she didn’t ask for one more (four more times) while they waited to board. And she wondered if it would be different if they had that sleepy kiss Harry talked about having at home when they got back.

But as it had been for the last few days, she couldn’t wonder or think about anything while Harry kissed her so deeply that it cured every heartache in her soul and it didn’t matter if those other kisses would have been better, because this one was perfect.

“Happy New Year, love,” he said quietly against her lips.

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