A/N: yall know im a sucker for dadrry and writing another one was just so fun for me, i thought i would write more about them! so i decided to write more oneshots from that universe, you'll be able to find the stories in the masterpost i've created, link is just down below :) feel free to send me prompts about what you'd like to see happen in this universe!
PAIRING: husband!dad!Harry X Reader
WARNINGS: struggles to get pregnant
WORD COUNT: 2.7k
more from The Another One Universe
Three minutes have never felt longer ever in your life. As you sit on the lid of the toilet, the pregnancy test laid out on the counter, an alarm set on your phone to signal when the waiting is over, but you already checked it about three times to see if it hasn’t stopped, because you were convinced it should have been over already.
“Come on, come on!” you mumble under your breath, legs shaking anxiously. Originally, you wanted to wait for Harry to do this, but you just couldn’t stop yourself, you needed to know. You’ve been feeling off all day and your period should have come yesterday, everything adding up to convince you that you’re finally pregnant. You’ve been trying for baby number four for about three months now, but all your previous tests came back negative and the more failure you had to endure, the harder it’s getting to keep your hopes up that you’ll get pregnant again.
This is gonna be the one, you know. You can feel the change in you and it has to be a baby. It needs to be or you’re losing your mind. Harry is picking up the kids today, they can be home anytime and you really want to welcome him with the good news, you could have your first appointment later this week, checking in on the little bean.
Your phone goes off finally, making you jump up from the lid as if it was on fire as you grab the test from the counter and check the result. However the excitement quickly turns into something bitter and painful.
There’s no question it’s only one. No faded second line, nothing you could hold onto and give yourself hope. It’s a negative test, meaning that you’re not pregnant.
“Fuck,” you sob as you break down crying, sitting down to the bathroom rug as you hug your knees to your chest. This was not how it was supposed to happen, you were so sure it’s gonna be positive this time! You’ve been trying for long enough to make you worried.
What if you won’t get pregnant again? You joked about three kids being your limit, but what if it really is? You think about how disappointed Harry will be if you tell him you didn’t get pregnant this month either, and you feel like you’re failing him, not giving him what he wants. But you want it too, you’ve gotten so into the idea of having another baby, having to face this failure will scar you for sure.
You cry and sob and whimper, gasping for air until your eyes turn red and your lungs sting. It takes several minutes to get yourself to leave the bathroom floor. Feeling like hiding from the world, you go to your shared closet with Harry and reach for one of his bigger hoodies that completely swallows your figure.
The front door opens and the happy chatter of your kids fills the house, following Harry’s deep voice. You quickly wipe your cheeks and try to rub your eyes dry, a pair of small feet thumping up the stairs and you recognize Ellie’s steps right away.
“Mummy! Are you here?” she calls out for you. Taking a deep breath you step out of the closet just when she barges into the bathroom.
“Hey, Bunny. Did you have a good day?” You force a smile to your face as you pick her up and hug her to you, a tad bit tighter than you usually do.
“Mummy, are you sad?” she asks, examining you with a worried look on her face. She is still wearing the dress you put on her for school, her hair that was once braided is messy, unruly curls bouncing around her face. She looks so much like Harry, though her eyes are definitely yours.
“No, just a bit tired. Everything is fine,” you smile at her, kissing her cheek. “Why don’t you go and change? Do you have homework?”
“I do. Will you help me?”
“Of course. I’ll meet you downstairs,” you tell her, putting her down and watching her run out of the room.
You want to head down too, but instead, you just sit on the edge of the bed, tears stinging your eyes again as you think about how long it’s been when Ellie was a baby and that if you
don’t fall pregnant again, you won’t get to experience having a baby again.
Ellie changes from her pretty dress, dropping it into the hamper like she was taught before she runs back down to get her homework from her backpack. The twins are in the living room, playing with the toys they brought from their room in the morning while Harry is putting away their lunchboxes in the kitchen.
“Where’s mum, Ellie?” Harry asks her, pressing a kiss to her head as he walks past her.
“Daddy, I think mum is sad,” she hums, sitting to the dining table to get her books and pencils out. Harry freezes, turning back to his daughter.
“Why do you think she’s sad?”
“She was crying when I went into your room. Is she sick?” she asks, worry all over her adorable face.
“I’m sure it’s fine. I’ll go check in on her. Keep an eye on your sister and brother, will you?”
Ellie nods as Harry heads upstairs, taking two steps at once. The room to your bedroom is slightly ajar and he hears your sniffling before he sees you. Pushing the door open he finds you sitting on the bed, your face buried in your hands and his heart breaks right away seeing you like this.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” He is quick to rush to your side, pulling you to his chest as you sob into his shirt. “Hey, whatever it is, we’re gonna figure it out. Just talk to me, please,” he murmurs softly, kissing the top of your head.
He gives you time to calm down and when you’re finally not sobbing you pull away, wiping your cheeks again. You probably look like a mess, your nose snotty, eyes puffy from all the crying you did so far, but he has seen you way worse before.
Without a word, you get up, walk into the bathroom and grab the negative test from the counter. Harry watches you like a hawk, his arm coming to curl around you as you sit back next to him, handing him the test.
“Oh baby…” he breathes out, putting it aside so he can hold you with both of his arms. “This is what got you so upset? It’s alright, we’ll keep trying, don’t stress yourself about it.”
“But what if I won’t get pregnant? What if I really did reach my limit?” you choke out, burying your face into his chest as he holds you tight. “I’m sorry I disappointed you,” you add in a whisper, but it’s like a slap across Harry’s face.
“Hey, none of that,” he sternly tells you, pulling away so he can look into your eyes. His hands cup your tear soaked cheeks as he looks down at you. “You could never disappoint me, especially not with something like this.”
“But you want this baby so much and I want it too, but we’ve been trying for three months and it should have happened by now…”
“Just because we got lucky the first two times, it doesn’t mean it’s gonna be the same now. Three months is not that long, okay? And we have time, we can keep trying, it will happen in its own time.”
“And what if it doesn’t happen?” you ask with trembling lips.
“Then nothing changes, we have three beautiful kids, it’s already perfect, with or without another baby.”
“You won’t be mad if I don’t get pregnant again?” you ask in a broken whisper.
“Oh baby, I could never. You already gifted me with three amazing babies and I’m so happy with what we got. Please don’t beat yourself up about this, I don’t want you to wreck yourself because of it.”
“I love you,” you breathe out, wrapping your arms around his neck as you fight your emotions to get you to stop crying already.
“I love you too, Y/N. So much. Just take it easy, it will happen if it was meant to happen, okay?”
You just nod, kissing his neck a few times before pulling back. You feel so relieved already, knowing that it was a mistake to ever think Harry would be anything but kind and loving towards you even with all the failures you’ve been facing.
“Why don’t you take a shower or a bath, I’ll help Ellie with her homework and then we can make dinner together, how does that sound?” he hums, gently rubbing your back.
“No, I want to help Ellie. I want to… I want to be with the kids,” you tell him pouting and Harry gets you right away. Focusing on them will most likely take your mind off of the negative test.
“Alright, whatever you want,” he smiles nodding, kissing your forehead.
You take a quick shower, don’t want to get too deep in your thoughts. Dressed in Harry’s hoodie and a pair of comfortable yoga pants you head down, finding Harry in the living room with all three of your kids, looking very much like they are plotting something.
“Hey guys,” you greet the suspiciously, their heads snapping up at your arrival.
“Okay, now!” Harry whisper yells and a moment later you’re under attack.
Max is the first one to throw himself at you, then comes Maddie and then Ellie, all three of them hugging and kissing you, telling you how much they love you.
“Oh my God!” you chuckle, kneeling down so they can reach you better, Max climbs to your back and Maddie is giggling as she kisses your nose. You look Harry’s way who is watching you with a wide smile from the couch.
“Daddy said you needed extra love today!” Ellie explains, laying her head to your shoulder.
“Ah, you are so sweet,” you breathe out, touched by the gesture as you hug them to you the best you can. “I love you guys so much,” you murmur into Maddie’s hair.
“And we love you too, mum!” Max laughs from behind you, hanging from you like a little monkey.
Letting them go is a little hard, but you need to if you don’t want to start crying again. Harry was right. Even if this fourth baby doesn’t happen, you still have such an amazing family, you have nothing to be sad about.
Having late night snacks with Harry has always been your favorite especially since you’ve become parents. Once the kids are down and you have some privacy, you often use this time to love on each other, but other times it’s not what you desire.
You’ve been moaning about wanting fries all day to Harry and he was sneaky enough to get a pack of frozen fries on his way home. Ellie went to bed with no problem after Harry read her a bedtime story and the twins were tired enough to fall asleep fast as well. Now as you’re making your way downstairs, you find your husband standing in the kitchen, his gaze fixated on the air fryer that’s most likely filled with fries.
“Oh God, I’ve been thinking about this all day!” you groan, grabbing plates from the cupboard.
“I should be offended that I’m not the one on your mind all day,” he huffs, pretending to be hurt, but you don’t miss the smirk that curls the corner of his mouth.
“You are too! But fries beat you today,” you snort, but kiss his shoulder blade moving past him.
Soon enough, the two of you are sitting at the kitchen island with a pile of fries in front of you, munching on it like you didn’t have dinner just a few hours ago.
“This needs ketchup,” Harry hums, walking over to the fridge.
“Can you grab the mustard too?”
“Mustard?” he gasps, but grabs it either way as he walks back to his previous seat. “I haven’t seen you eating mustard in ages!”
“I know!” you groan. “But I’m really craving it.”
“Last time you wanted mustard as if your life depended on it you were pregnant with the twins.”
You both freeze at his words, processing what he just said. Slowly you turn to face him, dropping the fry you were holding.
“And also when I was pregnant with Ellie,” you add, your eyes growing wider.
“Have you… when was your last period?” Harry asks in a whisper, the food long forgotten as he hops off his stool and you follow him while doing the quick math.
“I think… oh God, I’m like five days late! That’s a lot!” you gasp, realizing that you completely forgot about your period. You’ve had a busy week with work and Ellie’s school project you’ve been helping her to put together, it totally slipped your mind that you should have gotten your period earlier this week.
“Do you have any tests you haven’t used?”
“Yes, I have one, come on!” you grab his hand and you run up to your bathroom as if it was a race.
Just as you remembered it, the test is in the drawer where you put about two months ago when you and Harry agreed that you’d take the baby project a little easier, not forcing anything after your breakdown. That worked so well that you kind of forgot about it completely, right until two minutes ago.
Harry stays in the bathroom with you as you pee on the stick and then set it to the counter, setting an alarm on your phone. The two of you sit on the edge of the bathtub, hands tangled together as you anxiously wait for the three minutes to pass.
“Baby, if it comes back negative, it’s gonna be alright, okay? Don’t want you to feel bad about it,” he reminds you, kissing the side of your head.
“I know. We’re good. I love you,” you say, using it as a kind of mantra to calm your nerves.
“Love you too.”
You sit in silence for the remainder of the time until your phone goes off and you share a nervous look.
“You check it, I can’t,” you urge him and Harry nods as he grabs the test from the counter while you squeeze your eyes shut, bracing yourself for another failure. “What is it?” you ask in panic when you hear nothing from him.
Harry kneels in front of you, placing a hand on your knee as he kisses your forehead.
“Baby, open your eyes?”
“I don’t want to,” you whine. “Just tell me!”
“I think you’ll want to see this,” he chuckles softly and it sends a shiver down your spine. Slowly you open your eyes and meet Harry’s teary gaze as he grins at you wide. Before you could ask anything, he holds up the test and you gasp right away.
There’s no doubt that there are two lines. It’s not even faded, you don’t have to talk yourself into believing that there’s a second one, because it’s obvious.
“Oh my God,” you whisper, tears rolling down your cheeks as you take the test from him and take a closer look at it. “I’m not just seeing double, right?” you ask laughing through your tears.
“No,” he shakes his head chuckling. “It’s definitely positive.”
“It’s positive,” you repeat, eyes meeting his. “I’m pregnant. Again!”
“Yes, you are!” he laughs before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you tight into his embrace, both of you crying happy tears.
“We’re having another baby,” you whisper in shock as it slowly hits you. Even though you’ve been trying and planning on it, it’s still shocking that now it’s become reality. You’re gonna have another one.
“I told you baby. I told you it’s gonna happen. I knew it,” he mumbles into your hair, kissing you everywhere he can reach as you take deep breaths to stop you from crying.
“And you’re just always right,” you chuckle, cupping his face to pull him into a celebratory kiss.
“Always,” he hums happily against your lips.
Thank you for reading! Please like/reblog if you enjoyed!
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Love on Tour ♡
Part 21: Pittsburgh
A/N: Hey besties!! Here we go!! Hope you enjoy this part! I don't have much to say here tonight other than I love you all and that I appreciate each of you so much. Thanks for taking the time to read my story and follow this journey with me. Send me a message when you're done reading! Would love to hear your thoughts and also you can leave your guesses or where the story is heading! We still have a long way to go! Love - Vee
warning: sexual content
Story Masterlist // 3.6k words // Ask me anything
Part 21: Pittsburgh
October 14, 2021
I’m not feeling my best today.
Maybe it’s the fact I’m finally back to being regular with my pill and my body is having to adjust to the hormonal changes, but for the last couple of days I’ve been feeling pretty off. And when I say off, I mean, unattractive.
I’ve never before had a human version of a Greek god as a boyfriend so that is also a lot of pressure, not gonna lie.
I kinda hate myself for feeling like this because for a long time I’ve succeeded in not giving the way I look more importance than it has. But I know I’m human, so I’m trying to remind my brain to be gentle with myself.
I’m in the ensuite of our room, standing in front of the mirror in just my underwear and staring at myself, trying to reason with my own head. I hear the door open and close, a sign that Harry’s back from his morning run.
“Hey baby, I’m back” He announces as if on cue and I smile a little bit to myself. Harry’s presence is the only thing that always brings me comfort. Thinking about that makes me forget for a second that I’m literally standing naked in the middle of the bathroom and that it probably looks weird to Harry when he finds me here.
“What are you up to?” He asks, chuckling under his breath and I blush like I just got caught red handed “Not that I’m complaining, I love the view”
Always so cheeky.
“Nothin, just thinking,” I say, taking two steps forward toward the counter and turning the tap on to wash my hands.
“About?” Harry asks curiously. He walks over and sets himself behind me, connecting our eyes through the image of both of us in the mirror. His closeness makes my whole body flush instantly.
“Just that maybe I should start joining you in your morning runs. I’m not feeling my best” I say.
He still looks confused, probably thinking I mean it health-wise and in that case running would probably not be the best idea.
“Physically, I mean. I think I might have put on a little weight” I finally say, giving him a weak smile and I look up seeing how his eyes suddenly soften and his expression turns to one of understanding.
“Oh Bunny,” He says, pressing himself to me and tenderly placing his hands on my naked hips. He leans in and pecks the side of my neck sweetly “You look absolutely stunning to me”
I blush and look down, slightly embarrassed that I confessed such a seemingly superficial insecurity to Harry.
“Hey” Harry says, when he sees my body language change tense “I would be more than happy if you join me on my morning runs, but that’s because I love spending as much time as possible with my girlfriend” cue the butterflies “not because I think there’s anything you need to change about your body.”
I look up, giving him a shy smile.
“With that said baby, you know it’s your body and I will support anything you choose to do with it. As long as it’s healthy and good for you, okay?” He smiles, a big toothy green and my heart starts beating rapidly with this newfound feeling that’s overtaken me lately.
I just nod at him.
“I love your body, so fucking much” He says and then hesitates for a bit, like he’s about to say something else but stops himself “and you know why? Because it holds your heart” he presses a kiss to my shoulder” and mind” another kiss” and soul” a third kiss “My absolute favorite person.”
He snakes his arms around my waist, hugging me to him, and I place my own hands over his biceps.
“Your favorite person? Really?” I ask in a teasing tone, because I know his favorite person is his mom. Though I don’t doubt I am now a close second. He makes it pretty clear.
He’s my new favorite person too.
“Yeah, but don’t tell my mom. She gets jelly” He says in the most childlike innocent tone and I chuckle.
“Now, if you let me” He leans in, pressing yet another kiss to the side of my neck and then moving his lips to my ear, whispering in the most sensual tone “I’m going to tell you what else I adore about your body”
He lifts his hands from my waist to my breasts, cupping one in each hand.
And just like that Harry has turned a cute moment into a sexually charged one in two seconds.
He really is a menace.
“I love your breasts. I wish I could bury my face in them forever” He says, squeezing them lightly with his hands over my black mesh bra “They’re so perky and they fit perfectly in my hands, like they were made just for me”
He squeezes again, while pressing a kiss to my right shoulder and my core starts to burn with desire. He brings one hand to my back, expertly unclasping my bra and making it fall to the ground. Exposing me to him.
“Perfect” He whispers, bringing both hands back to my breasts and playing with my nipples for a few seconds. I let out a breathy moan and he chuckles.
He lowers his hands and places them over my hips, holding them tightly.
“Your hips, god you have no idea what you do to me when you dance and move those perfect hips. Mmm, my own Colombian goddess. Lucky bastard that I am. Could cum just from watching you dance” He rubs my hips a little bit with his hands, both of our breathings increasing due to his dirty words.
I’m getting wet with every word he utters and I’m sure he has to be at least semi hard by now. I don’t know what’s more arousing, his dirty words or knowing how he feels about my body.
He then slides his hand back so that they’re both grabbing my butt.
“This arse, so round and so firm and all mine” He squeezes it as well and then he lets his finger tease quickly over my butthole, before placing his hands on my hips again. He whispers in my ear with his grave voice “Hope you’ll let me fuck it sometime”
I gasp and clench my thighs. The thought of exploring that unknown territory to me with Harry is slightly scary but also incredibly arousing.
“I’ve never” I start to say but Harry interrupts me with a kiss to my earlobe.
“It’s fine baby, not right now anyways” He says, in a soft tone now, and I nod. The duality of this man will never stop surprising me.
Just when I think we are back to having a tender moment he slides his hand between my thighs and glides his fingers over my entrance.
“And this cunt” he whispers, making my whole body shiver “My favorite thing in the world”
With the swift movement of one single finger, he pulls my panties down, giving him access to my folds. He brings his thumb to my clit, drawing circles on it. I let out a loud moan and I feel my knees weaken, but Harry tightens his grip around my chest, holding me in place and close to him.
“I got you princess” He says, still playing with my clit and running his middle finger up and down my fold teasingly.
“Open up a little bit for me” He demands and I do as I am told, spreading my legs slightly so that he can now push one of his long fingers inside me. I gasp, and my whole body trembles at the sudden contact of his digit against my walls. I place both of my hands on the counter, gripping it tightly to support myself.
With my new position slightly bent over, Harry pushes his hips against, making me feel his hard dick against my ass.
“Can you feel that baby? That’s how I feel about your body” His words make the pressure in my stomach increase and I know I’m already close. But it’s when Harry pushes a second finger inside me without a warning that I literally start seeing stars.
I whimper and Harry chuckles against my ear, enjoying the state he’s got me in.
“Such a fucking perfect pussy” He says huskily “so warm, and tight, and mine”
Harry’s name leaves my lips again and again in between moans and whimpers. I feel my whole body clench and I know he’s found my g-spot.
“That’s it baby cum for me, cum around me” He doesn't have to say it twice when I’m orgasming with his fingers still inside of me. I let out a cry of pleasure, not even caring if I’m being too loud. I feel my orgasm come in strong waves, and just when I think I’m getting off my high, Harry gets down on his knees and attaches his mouth to my clit, immediately making me cum again around his tongue. Two consecutives orgams. That’s definitely a first for me.
Harry stands up again and we stare at each other through the mirror. Me, trying to catch my breath and Harry, with a smug smirk on his face and my own release coating his chin. He presses himself closer and I feel his hard dick against my behind again.
“Want some help with that?” I ask him, still breathless.
“You don’t have to love” He says softly, pressing a kiss to my shoulder.
“I want to” I say, and turn myself around so that I’m now facing him, our chests flushed together. He leans in and presses a kiss to my lips.
I take a step back, and jump on the counter. I lean back on my hands, careful not to hurt myself with the tap and spread my legs. Harry’s eyes drop to my pussy immediately.
“Come on baby, I need you” I breathe out. Harry pulls his shorts down in seconds, man probably broke a record. But finally his rock hard dick is free.
“Fucking perfect you are” He says, before taking a step closer to me and pushing himself inside me. We moan at the same time at the contact. He stays still, me enjoying the feeling of fullness and him enjoying the feeling of my walls around him.
He places his hands on my back and pushes me against his chest, resting his forehead on my shoulder.
“Aren’t you going to move?” I ask with a little chuckle.
“Give me a second, I’m enjoying this” He breathes out against my skin.
It takes him 10 seconds to start pounding into me mercilessly and only 10 minutes till we are both moaning and cumming at the same time.
I’m so happy to be back at our little routine of helping him get ready for his shows. so I make my way inside his dressing room with a smile on my face.
“Hey girlfriend” Harry greets me as soon as I step in with a smile that mirrors mine.
“Hey boyfriend” I call back, walking all the way till I’m in front of him and pressing a kiss to his lips. He’s only wearing a loose white towel around his hips and I want him again.
“I will never get tired of being called that” He says and I chuckle.
“You better not” I wink at him. I walk over to where his outfit for the night is hanging and grab it for him.
Black pants and suspenders and a metallic light gold button down. Finally he’s wearing something other than red.
He drops his towel, baring himself completely in front of me and I blush lowering my gaze. Harry notices me getting shy and chuckles.
“Babe, you’ve seen every inch of this already” He says, picking up his briefs and pants and getting dressed piece by piece. I shake my head at him and take a step closer, buttoning his shirt for him. His gaze focus on my yellow painted nails.
“I like your nail polish” He smirks.
“Mmm, it’s my boyfriend’s new brand” I say, smirking as well.
Jeff arrived this morning in Pittsburgh from California, he will be joining us until Harryween, and he brought with him trials to five of the Pleasing nail polish shades that Harry requested exclusively for me.
“What a talented boyfriend you have” He says and I hit his shoulder playfully, rolling my eyes. Always very humble.
He walks in front of the mirror and checks himself out, making sure his whole outfit is in place. I check him out as well, loving how the gold and black clothes look on him.
“So handsome” I tell Harry and he smiles at me in appreciation. I know he’s feeling a bit nervous tonight so I walk over to him and stand behind him, wrapping my arms around his back and squeezing him in a comforting hug.
“You’ll do great tonight” I say, pressing a kiss right between his shoulder blades.
“I know” He says, turning around and facing me “I’ve got my lucky charm with me”
So incredibly corny as usual, but also so incredibly mine. So I stand on my tiptoes and press my lips to his. We stare at each other for a few seconds, and I start to wonder if this incredible feeling of euphoria we feel when we are together will ever wear off.
“Okay I’m ready” He says, someone had to finally break the moment. He walks to the vanity where he’s set up his small jewelry box. I see him put on his dreams and when he walks past me on his way to the door a sparkle I haven’t noticed before catches my eye.
“Wait, is that a new ring?” I ask him and he stops right under the doorframe and turns back to me.
“Yeah, it’s opal” He smiles and gives me a wink. He doesn’t say anything else, turning back around and leaving.
Opal is my birthstone and just yesterday we had a conversation about this.
You should wear the birthstone of someone you love so that it keeps them protected.
I knew he was asking Lambert for a new ring but I thought it was going to be his own birthstone. Amethyst.
Wear the birthstone of someone you love.
I stay frozen in my place, my heart thumping so fast and loud I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone in the arena can hear it.
He loves me.
Harry loves me.
I really don’t want to get my hopes up but deep down I know he does. We still haven’t said the three words yet to each other as we barely just got back together after our huge fight. But sometimes, actions speak louder than words, and the way that Harry is so caring and tender with me. That is definitely love.
I shake my head forcing myself to come back to reality and walk out of the dressing room, heading to the sidelines where I’ll be watching my boyfriend.
“What do you say we watch a movie before bed? I’m not really that tired tonight” Harry asks as soon as I join him in the elevator. He arrived a little bit before me tonight, as I stayed behind helping Tallulah make sure everything from the arena was getting packed. But I caught up with him just in time, as he was getting in the elevator.
“We could watch a scary movie, it’s spooky season after all” I say with a big smile and he chuckles at my excitement.
“Whatever you want to watch babe. What have you got there mm?” He asks, curiously peeking inside the cardboard box I’m carrying and taking it from my hands to carry it himself.
“Just a bunch of plush sunflowers that get thrown at you every show” I explain, chuckling. I’ve made it my mission to ask someone from the arena staff to help me pick up all the sunflowers every night and put them in this box, and then I go and place them all around the stage while Harry showers before every show.
“Oh, so you’re the one in charge of the sunflower garden that’s been growing around my stage” He says with a smirk on his lips, but adoration in his eyes.
“I am” I shrug and give him a small smile of my own. The elevator doors open and Harry somehow manages to carry the big cardboard box with just one hand and extends his other one for me to grab. I do just that and he intertwines our fingers, leading us to our room.
I take the key out of the back pocket of his pants and open the door.
“Home sweet home” Harry says as soon as we walk inside and just the fact of him calling our space a home makes me all giddy, even if it’s just out of a common expression.
I follow him inside and he’s sitting on the edge of the bed on his side, he just took his shoes off and is now checking his phone. I climb on the bed and make my way behind him, on my knees with my chest pressed to his back I wrap my arms around his neck.
“Mmm you were so good tonight” I say. He puts his phone aside, ready to give me his whole attention and reaches up to hold my hands with his own. He turns his head to the side, so he can see me and smiles.
“Thanks bunny, I really love having you there watching me” His words make my heart beat a mile a minute but I’m already getting used to the way my whole body reacts to him.
He loves spending time with me. He loves my body. He loves having me there watching him. We really have started to use the world love much more casually around here, it seems.
But still no three words.
And I fear I could scare him away if I say them first.
I shake my head of these thoughts, not wanting to ruin my good mood tonight.
“So, opal mm?” I question, and he smirks. He takes me by surprise when he turns around, making me flat on the bed on my back. He hovers over me, his hands at each side of my head.
“Yes, opal. My mom’s birthstone,” he says.
My whole body freezes and all the color drains from my face.
Maybe I’ve been reading everything wrong.
“And also your birthstone” Harry says, leaning in and connecting his lips to mine. I let him kiss him for a bit and then break apart.
Sneaky bastard. He knows what I’ve been thinking.
“The two most important women of my life” He then says with a stern expression, like he wants me to know he’s not teasing anymore. He’s being completely serious.
“Really?” I ask shyly. He stares at me with so much adoration in his eyes. I don’t think I’ve ever been looked at like this before.
And I look back at him with the exact same adoration.
“Yeah” He says “I think October might just be my lucky month”
We stay quiet for a second, indulging in the deep and intimate moment we’ve just shared. A small acknowledgment of how he feels about me.
“But don’t tell Gemma” He says, leaning in and placing a kiss on my neck, his slight scruff tickles me, making me giggle.
Much later, when I get out of the bathroom after showering wearing a white fluffy robe, with my hair damp and my skin freshly moisturized, Harry’s standing in front of the TV with the remote at hand, browsing through the catalog of Halloween movies on Netflix.
I sit on the edge of the bed with my hair, and start combing my hair. An essential part of my nighttime routine. Harry turns around and stares at me, a small smile on his face.
“Can I? He asks, signaling with his head to my hair comb. I just nod.
He hits play and climbs into the bed behind me and takes the hair comb from my hands. He starts to carefully comb my hair, being so incredibly tender. Hocus Pocus is starting to play on the TV.
I exhale happily. This domesticity makes me so content.
Once Harry’s done, he sets the hair comb aside and leans in pressing a kiss to my jawline.
“Can you keep a secret?” He whispers in my ear and I nod. My back is tense, not knowing what he will say.
“The ring has your name engraved” His words make my heart jump out of my chest and without hesitation I turn around, making us fall into bed, me on top of him. My lips are quick to find his and we start kissing deeply and passionately.
I love you too, Harry.
Pretty boy, you did this with me, boy
Now it's all about to end
Baby girl, look where we made it, girl
Hmm, now we're falling
As long as I got you
I'm gonna be alright
As long as I got you, yeah
I'm not afraid to die
Pretty Boy - The Neighborhood
Leave me a message, I will appreciate it!
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Bunny in Amalfi
Harry Styles had just popped the question about two weeks ago, binding Sophia and him in the first step to a happy holy matrimony. The two had only been together for less than two years, but when asked, they’ll say time before without each other was just merely a simulation and not real life at all. Harry and Sophia had first met in a print photoshoot, the two models first ever nude photoshoot, and that definitely helped start their friendship in a closer ground with literally no barriers to begin with.
Not even a month later, the two got together as a couple and their genuine chemistry during their first ever nude photoshoot was greatly loved by the public with more fashion brands booking them together as a couple for shoots and runway shows. Being jetsetter models together, it certainly allowed them to become closer in all regards of that word real fast, you will certainly learn and know everything about your partner when travelling in foreign countries outside the usual comfort zone of their home country.
With that being said, most people would probably think that they’ve experienced most of everything there is through visiting all these diverse countries and states. Though Sophia and Harry would like to differ, their work as models is not an easy task at all. They might be on the plane to Rio, Brazil in the morning and then Paris, France in the following hours but that doesn’t mean they were doing it for leisure. In fact, the two can barely even use their regular day-off in a foreign country to sight-see after being so tired the previous day from walking and posing in this direction to that.
So when the newly engaged couple decided to have an unconventional engagement-moon, they didn’t even bat an eye at every comment they got from family and friends alike who think the two should just save the funds for their honeymoon after the wedding. Instead, they packed together the largest single luggage they have in their closet filled with thin summer dresses and pollos and a bunch of different colored and patterned bikinis and trunks all perfect for the sunny Italian weather.
The Amalfi Coast is one of the most exquisite places on earth, and Sophia thinks their early alarm was worth it to catch the ferry ride from the port in Sorrento where their accommodation is at, to go to the bustling city of Positano just around the Amalfi Coast itself to spend the day there.
“Why did we opt to stay in Sorrento but mostly enjoy the amenities of Positano? It’s too early for this ferry ride, Sunflower.” Harry groans, dropping his face on her shoulder to block out the noise of other tourists finding seats within the massive ferry.
“Because there’s too many people in Positano and I don’t like too loud surroundings at night. And because you love me, you said yes without any questions. Is that a good answer for your question, my bunny?”
“Ugh, don’t remind me. I bet you used the same explanation when you tricked me into proposing to you.”
“Hey, that’s mean!” Sophia lightly swats him on his chest, trying to get his head away from its nestled state on her shoulder. “I didn’t trick you to do anything.” she pouts.
Harry just giggles at her disgruntled expression while finding a comfortable position for his head on her shoulder once again. Harry looks at Sophia’s beautiful bare face from underneath his sunglasses, knowing without a doubt that soon her cheeks would be flushed with a rosy hue just from a small exposure of the Italian sun, making her look more gorgeous, healthy and happy than ever. Harry can’t love Italy any more if it makes his Sunflower radiate contentment, damn the early hours and all that.
“You know I’m kidding, my Sunflower.” Harry soothes Sophia’s frown, hand on her thigh affectionately caressing the exposed skin from her jean shorts, “If anything else, you’re the one I tricked into saying yes.”
“Highly unlikely,” Sophia disagrees, smiling at Harry’s frown of confusion for not getting the bait to tease him. “I think I’ve said yes ages ago even before you dropped on one of your knees in our backyard in London.”
“What do you mean?” Harry asks, even more perplexed.
“What I’m saying is that you’ve got me hooked ever since the beginning, specifically, when you sank down on your knees, butt-naked, in front of my own naked body, and you looked at me from underneath as if you wanted to eat me out in front of our co-workers. How can I not say yes when the first time we met you already thought of a way to secure our future together with a new career if this modelling thing didn’t work.”
Harry smirks, “And what would that be, huh?”
Sophia rolls her eyes, giving Harry a dead-pan look, “You tell me, you’re the one who was stealing hungry looks at my vagina.”
“HEYYY!” Harry chastises her in laughter, sparingly smacking her thigh, “That’s so naughty of you, Sunflower! And this early in the morning, really? While we’re in Italy trying to have a wholesome time together as new fiancés in the serene and heavenly Amalfi Coast? You’re quite racy and that’s very naughty of you.”
“I’m not being naughty. Besides, you say that now,” Sophia snickers, interlocking her hand with Harry’s that’s placed on her thigh, “But don’t think I’d let your wandering hands anywhere near my scrumptious body later, and,” she taps his nose that’s nuzzling her neck for emphasis, “let’s see who’s being naughty when I see that lips and tongue of yours trying to find their way on any inch of my sun-kissed skin later.”
Harry giggles, smiling devilishly up at Sophia just like the first time he did on his knees during their first nude photoshoot, “You know how much I like my buns to be toasted.”
“And that’s you being hungry for my bum, you’re the naughty one.”
Much to Sophia’s dismay (well, not really), Harry has had his arms, hands, and attention all-over her the minute they stepped down the ferry. Harry is not one to let his fiancé go down those steep stairs of the ferry without any assistance, much accustomed to always having an arm around her whenever she’s wearing high heels for shows or shoots. That natural instinct to be gentlemanly and attentive to her needs and safety never leaves his system even if Sophia had told him she was alright to walk on her own by the time they’ve reached the wooden ground of the port dock in Positano.
“Also, I can carry our beach bag, you know?” Sophia says to a struggling Harry trying to carry their large Christian Dior book tote containing all their beach necessities and his other Gucci duffle bag consisting of his different camera for the trip, since Harry had apparently decided to be a professional photographer for their engagement-moon. The man can barely walk safely without the fear of tripping even without any constraints given to him.
“What kind of a fiancé do you think I am?” Harry responds, reaching for Sophia’s left hand to intertwine with his’ after getting their things together on his broad shoulders, “I’m here on this trip to show you how much of a doting husband I can be once we’re married already.”
“You already do that, though,” Sophia reassures him, smiling a little when Harry quickened his pace to go down the steps of the port dock before her, so he can help her go down with a study but gentle hold on her hand and arm.
“Thank you, kind sir.” Sophia remarks, doing a little curtsey that Harry returns once they’re on the grounds of the Positano beach itself, “As I was saying, you already are a doting husband material to begin with, bunny. You take it upon yourself to do my laundry when I’m tired, or wash the dishes I’ve left in the sink without being prompted to, heck, you even wash my makeup brushes for me cause you’re wary that I might get a rash if I don't clean it myself. No need to prove anything.”
Harry just shrugs, unfazed as he holds Sophia near him once again, the couple leisurely walking their way to confirm their reservation for their beachside seats, “That’s sweet of you, Sunflower. But maybe you can just let me be chivalrous, perhaps more often than regular apparently, just for this trip?”
“How can I deny my fiancé’s sweet requests?” Sophia replies, not really finding it anywhere within herself to deny any of that, “By all means, show me how you’d dote over your future wife.”
Harry’s smile brightens even more, Sophia thinks it might be even brighter than the freaking Italian sun shining on them.
“I hope you won’t regret saying that, Sunflower. Because I’m going to bloody lavish you with so much affection you won’t even recognize your previous domestic boyfriend Harry in London.”
Sophia simply cackles at his words, letting Harry go about his way to enter the building of the coast-side establishment to verify their reservation. Sophia just stands beside her fiancé the entire time he’s conversing with the beach staff to get what they need and all that, replying to any specific questions Harry asks her like what time they’d want to get their lunch served to them in their beach sunbeds, or if she wants extra towels (which she declines, not keen on using publicly shared towels that are meant to be clean but she’s skeptic about it).
Sooner than later, one of the staff led them towards their assigned beach sunbeds, which in Sophia’s opinion is the best one in the house because it’s conveniently at the front of everyone else's with the view of the Amalfi Coast gracing them just a few feet away. Sophia is genuinely ready to shed all other clothes adorning her sweating body and lounge under the morning sun in nothing but her blue Fendi bikini set. She’s about to suggest the same thing to Harry but when she turns back her attention to him after being captivated by their view, she frowns at what she sees.
“Baby, what are you doing?” Sophia asks her fiancé who’s cute little bum still covered with his own jean shorts (which is very unlikely of him in general especially when they’re on the beach, often she reprimands him for being too much of a nudist for a family-friendly beach), trying to move their sunbeds for some reason.
Harry grunts in acknowledgement to her question, walking to the other side to push her chosen sunbed more to the middle, muttering unpleasantly when he forgot to remove the side table in the middle. Sophia can’t help but be endeared even if Harry hasn’t really explained what he’s doing, and cheers along with him when Harry cheers in victory with his arms raised above him in glee for being able to push both their sunbeds in the middle.
“What do you think?” Harry asks, eyebrows raising up and down comically arms outstretched to showcase his invention.
“Beautiful, really.” Sophia indulges him, jokingly inspecting his work, “You pushed our sunbeds together in the middle?”
Harry drops his arms to his sides, squinting his eyes at her hidden from his sunglasses, “I made a single sunbed for the two of us? So we can be together, and beside each other for our entire stay here this afternoon.”
Chuckles take flight out of Sophia’s lips, always charmed at Harry’s sweet but weird antics. She can’t really completely comprehend Harry’s fascination with wanting to always be attached at the hip with her. Harry consistently found ways to have their makeup chairs to be beside each other during shoots, guiding her to sit on his lap during private jet rides, and even purchased them a baby pink tandem bicycle that Sophia’s not proud to admit how much she had enjoyed her time using it (not that she’d admit it to her fiancé verbally) when Harry had forced her to take it for a ride with him in a nearby park at their London home.
Sophia closes the distance between them, locking her arm around Harry’s neck as the latter wraps his own on her body in a compressed hug. She kisses his pouting lips, their sunglasses covered eyes hitting each other making them giggle at the clanking noise it produces.
“Thank you, bunny, for making us a single sunbed to enjoy. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to undress and enjoy this Italian summer heat in just my bikinis.” Sophia takes Harry’s arms away from her body and gently pushes on his shoulder for him to fall on the sunbed.
Harry whistles suggestively, arms raising above his head watching Sophia unbutton her white linen top, “Ohhh, front row seat for this exquisite Amalfi Coast scenery, and for a live strip show of world renowned supermodel, Sophia Styles? Fucking sign me up for that!”
“Shut up!” Sophia cackles along with Harry, throwing her now unbuttoned shirt to him who squeals in delight like some sort of fanboy that got to catch their idols used bottled water, “And who are you calling ‘Styles’? I ain’t one yet, babe.”
Harry rolls his eyes at her, “fiancé, wife, spouse, semantics! Now would you please continue your undressing performance? I was quite enjoying it.”
“Wow, thanks for even saying please, you cheeky bunny. And FYI, if this was a performance, I’d be charging you heavily.” Sophia wiggles her arse out her skintight denim shorts, the act earning embarrassingly loud ‘whoops’ and cheers from her crazy fiancé.
“HARRY!” Sophia quietly screeches, jumping beside him on the sunbed when she sees and feels other guests looking at their direction. “Don’t do that! You’re seriously embarrassing, people are lookin at us!”
Harry just raises an eyebrow at her, “I don’t know if you forgot, but we’re models who practically get our living out of people ogling at us.” Sophia was about to rebuttal but Harry silences her by placing his index finger directly on her lips.
“Shush, don’t want to hear any complaints from your precious little mouth. Now, rest your cute little bum on that sunbed and enjoy watching me give you a personal undressing performance. Not even going to charge you anything, cause lucky you, I’m your spouse.”
Sophia tries to speak despite Harry’s annoying massive finger in the way, “Not ye-”
“Shut it!” Harry reprimands without any real heat in his tone, squeezing her pouty lips on his finger, “I don’t understand why you’re complaining when I know for a fact you’ve been eyeing my delectable body since we’ve arrived here, waiting for me to shed my clothes off.”
Sophia also doesn’t know why she’s protesting, so he lets his crazy little arse do its thing and welcomes his now bare chest and itty bitty blue trunks back to her arms on their conjoined sunbed. Even in the warmth of their current destination, Harry and Sophia remain to be cuddled-up together relaxing and just lounging about despite the sweat being produced by their slick barely dressed bodies. At some point, one of them would take a dip at the very blue Italian ocean just at their lucky disposal, while the other would continue sunbathing on their sunbed waiting with a fresh towel on their lap.
When lunch time comes around, Harry has just returned from a dip, shaking his wet curl like an excited puppy as Sophia giggly makes him stop while drying him off with his towel. “Can we please have lunch now?” she asks.
Harry plops his wet bum on his seat, hands brushing his springy curls away from his face, “No need to ask twice, I’m positively famished.”
“Good, chop-chop then!” Sophia claps her hands in enthusiasm, laughter spewing from Harry’s lips, “Come on, hop those cute little bunny legs of yours to fetch the waiter.”
“Well aren’t you a bossy little Sunflower?”
Harry follows her fiancé's orders nonetheless, asking one of the nearby staff to kindly call a waiter who can get their orders. The waiter arrives shortly after, standing at the bottom of their sunbed while Harry and Sophia are snuggled nicely on their seats looking at the menu to pick their chosen dishes. At first, Sophia thinks maybe the waiter has recognized who they are as she feels her eyes constantly looking back and forth at the two of them. But then when Harry starts nosing at her cheek and pulling her barely covered body closer to his, big ring-less hands softly caressing her tummy (that were maybe just placed little bit lower than publicly acceptable), when the waitress quickly averts his eyes away from them but quickly looks back like a moth to a flame and then look away again.
Sophia finds that odd, especially when Harry starts to say their orders to her and Sophia begins to affectionately rubs her cheek that’s resting on Harry’s chest, her lips puckering to drop featherlight kisses on the bare skin of his sexy swallow bird tattoo, and their waiter begins to stutter upon repeating their orders to them.
“Sunflower, I think she was uncomfortable from our PDA.” Harry observes, right after their waiter has left.
“What PDA?” Sophia answers, confused but not bothered as she continues to now nip on Harry’s collarbone and broad shoulder.
“This, whatever you’re doing now and a while ago.” Harry explains, his right hand coming up to Sophia’s wet blonde hair to massage her scalp.
“I didn’t see you stopping me now and a while ago when she was here.”
Harry snorts, “Don’t you know me? I’m the affection-starved in this relationship, why will I deny such kind blessings being presented my way?”
“Good, keep being that way and ignore others; it’s not like we were having public sex or something.” Sophia mutters.
“Is that an invitation I hear?”
Sophia laughs at the apparent hopeful expression on Harry’s face, she taps his chest instead as an answer, “Nah, I’d rather receive pleasure through you feeding me with our lunch.”
Harry pinches the little pudge that he loves so much on her stomach, “How kinky of you?”
For their second day in their engagement-moon, Harry and Sophia had mutually agreed that maybe they shouldn’t follow through with their initial plan of constantly waking-up early every morning just to catch the ferry going to Positano and the other cities around the Amalfi Coast. Clearly, they had underestimated the wonders that the Italian summer weather may cause to their languid bodies and in addition, the amazing Italian foods have been nothing short but heavenly has only made the couple want to slow down and just laze about while hand-feeding each other with some freshly baked focaccia with a plate of fresh burrata and cherry tomatoes just by their reach. Harry had also impulsively booked them a little luxury yacht complete with amendments for an afternoon sail around the Amalfi Coast.
“I can’t believe I let you do this,” Sophia says to her fiancé who’s also changing beside her to his swimming trunks in the little bedroom inside the yacht. “This must have been so expensive, H. Have you seen the complementary Versace robes and Gucci slides in the living room? Our yacht captain said it's for us to take home, like it’s ours after we use it today.”
Harry looks at her with clear amusement in his features while helping her tie little knots on the strings of her bikini bottom, “I would be surprised if I didn’t know about it since I’m the one who booked and paid for this. Besides, we work for those brands on a daily basis. What's so new about using designer stuff?”
Harry has a valid point, but Sophia’s not here to admit that to him and make him smug. So she just narrows her eyes at him in dissatisfaction and walks back to the living area of the yacht with Harry hot on her trail.
“I do wear designer stuff a lot of the times, thanks to our careers,” Sophia agrees, easily lifting her arms to put inside the said Versace robe that Harry’s holding open for her to wear, “but that doesn't mean I’m going to buy some on my own will without a proper thought over if I really need it or not.”
Harry must have caught-on to what this conversation is going to lead to based on Sophia’s tone, his shoulders now comfortably wrapped with the luxurious material of the robe, deflates. Harry begins to give Sophia an apologetic look, the latter just looking at him knowingly.
Sophia knows they’re not on this trip to argue, but she has to say this regardless of their celebration trip, “I think that it’s just not wise to buy expensive things without thinking twice about it. We’re getting married really soon, bunny. And even though we’re much more well-off than others because of our modelling jobs, it would be really good if we start saving and spending our money in a much smarter and efficient way. You want our future kids to not be burdened by financial challenges while they’re growing-up right?”
Harry’s pouting now, his head still nodding in agreement regardless if he’s being told-off. Harry reaches for Sophia’s hand and gently cradles it on his own. “You’re right, Sunflower. I’m sorry that I didn’t think twice or consult you before booking this luxurious thing.”
Sophia squeezes his hand, feeling the sincerity in his voice, “I know you are, and I forgive you easily. It’s our engagement-moon, so I understand where this want to celebrate and spend is coming from. Let’s just tone it down a bit from here on out on this trip, yeah?. You know that I’d still feel cherished and happy if you decide to take me on a walk around town and act as my tourist guide since you love and know so much more about Italy than I do, my adorable Italian-like bunny.”
Harry giggles, a small smile now gracing his lips replacing his earlier pout, “Alright, I’ll keep that in mind. And I’m sorry again, I promise no more spending a lot after this. I’m sorry for dampening our mood on just our second day.”
Sophia begins to frown now, “Hey, no more sorrys, okay? And you didn’t dampen any mood, I’m not extremely mad or disappointed.”
“But you are, lovie. At least a little bit disappointed in me, and I’m sorry for causing that. I’ll do better, I promise.”
Sophia does not at all like the saddened expression on Harry’s face, no matter how determined he looks at proving himself on committing better choices next time. To soothe his emotions and take his mind away from this instance, Sophia sweetly requests for Harry to apply her sunblock for her out in the deck of the yacht. She knows her fiancé, knows how to use her body (when really needed) as a distraction.
She feels Harry’s aura instantly lift and brighten once again as she’s lying on her front in the wide deck bed of the yacht with Harry sitting on her thighs while his hands apply and massage the sunscreen to Sophia’s skin. Sophia lets him take his time, genuinely enjoying Harry’s relaxing and comforting touch, finding her eyes to naturally close in bliss. It opens wide though when she feels something oddly familiar between her thighs.
“Harry..” Sophia exhales, “What is that I feel on the back of my thighs? Please tell me it’s not what I think it is.”
Without even seeing Harry’s face, Sophia knows there’s an evident smirk on his cherubic face, “Sunflower, I don’t know what you want me to tell you..” and he even makes it a point to press said ‘thing’ further into the skin of her thigh.
And yup, that ‘thing’ is definitely the thing Sophia was afraid of. Especially when she feels that it was oddly hard.
Sophia groans, hiding her face on her folded arms, “Bunny, thank you for your honesty. But may you please tell me, why are you aroused in the middle of the afternoon as we’re innocently cruising around the Amalfi Coast?”
Gone is Harry’s earlier saddened and dejected baby demeanor, now replaced with a promiscuous bunny behavior with his hands continuously caressing her skin regardless that the sunscreen has been fully absorbed by her skin already. Actually, Harry even becomes more brave with his actions and takes it a step further by simultaneously sliding his hands down to her side-boobs as he pushes his groin area on the plump flesh of her bikini bottom covered arse.
“Are we talking about my hard cock?” Harry’s tone laced with downright cheek, gentle wide hands trying to squeeze his hands between the deck bed to cup Sophia’s breasts.
Sophia cackles at the unexpected action, bum raising up in initial shock connecting even more with Harry’s situation earning a squeak from her and a groan from Harry.
“Bunny! Stop!” Sophia squirms from his weight on top of her, successfully positioning herself in a sitting position with her own hands cupping her breasts, eyes narrowing at Harry’s disgruntled and flush look, trying to keep in her giggles at how ridiculous this whole thing is.
But Sophia fails nonetheless, peals of laughter coming out from her in no time, “Did you seriously just get hard from applying sunscreen on my body? Are you a teenager or what?”
Harry raises his arms in surrender, earnestly replying, “I can’t help it. Like, have you seen your body? Anyone from the age of 13 to 100 would get the same reaction, no doubt.”
“Eww..” Sophia’s nose scrunches at the unwanted mental image that gave her, “I don’t want to think about that, nor for people to think and see me like that to get that kind of reaction. Now can you please hand me my bikini top right there beside you so we can prevent that from happening?”
Sophia notices it the moment that something clicks within Harry, like some sort of light bulb turned on in his wits and Sophia can only begin to look in slight horror as the mischievous smile begins to form on Harry’s lips. It’s enough to signal Sophia of his next actions and she quickly tries to reach with one of her short arms her bikini top.
“I don’t think so!” Harry quickly sprang into action and snatched Sophia’s bikini top on his grasp, using his long arm to block her way.
“Bunny! What the heck, give it to me!” Sophia screeches, tightening her crossed arms across her naked chest as he tries to chase around a running Harry who’s laughingly flailing her white bikini top on top of his head like some sort of victory flag, “What are you even doing? Stop being ridiculous!”
“Am I being ridiculous?” Harry stops on his run, arm still raised above out of Sophia’s reach, “You’re the one who’s not wearing a top, so who’s more ridiculous, really? Me, the virtuous one wholly covered in my robe, or the insane lady trying to chase me around with her bouncing tits barely being covered by her scrawny arms?”
Alright, that’s a direct hit on her now, Sophia thinks as determination begins to flow on her veins, “Did you just call my arms scrawny? Like a synonym for skinny?”
Sophia laughs evilly in her head as the ever-present smug smile on Harry’s features doesn’t seem so present anymore upon seeing a change in her air. But her fiancé is nothing but a banter-loving and a self-proclaimed menace from birth till death. So it doesn’t surprise her when his smile returns, delinquent tones in ten folds.
Bravely, Harry replies, “I did. What are you going to do about it? Gonna hit me with your skinny and weak arms?”
Sophia basks in the witch-like cackle that she lets out, arms covering her breasts dropping to her sides in an instant. Her smugness gains in momentum as Harry’s eyes follow the now revealed clear skin of her breasts, dark rosy nipples his definite kryptonite.
“Yeah, I think that’s exactly what you want me to do.”
And then they’re having a full-on chase around the entire mini yacht, Sophia no longer giving a fuck if their captain or the godforsaken creepy paparazzi get a handful look of her tits as long as she gets to keep hearing Harry’s loud, dulcet laugh ringing in her ears forever. There’s nothing sweeter than hearing the tangible laughter of your lover’s happiness, one that you’re even the reason behind.
The couple made sure that their time in the luxury yacht will be one of the bestest and finest experiences they’ve had in Italy. Sophia thinks it’s only justifiable to ask their captain to slow down or sail back again to a specific spot in the vast clear blue sea of the Amalfi Coast for her to find the perfect background of the beautiful scattered Italian homes and buildings situated on the hillsides to take pictures of, and as her personal background as Harry directs her to pose this way and that; it’s justifiable because it was bloody expensive and Sophia will damn make sure these pictures are worth printing and putting up in their home. Besides, when the sun began to set and lights from from the quaint Italian homes begin to brighten the darkening orange sky, Harry had delicately pulled her body to his, suddenly kissing her pleasantly without any prompt as Sophia heard the unmistakable click of a self-timed shutter in one of Harry’s fancy digital cameras. That one for sure, Harry would get printed once they’ve landed back in London.
Though all those lovely moments are now kept stored in Sophia’s Harry=Happiness memory bank, their third day in Italy is now her main priority. True to Harry’s predictions, Sophia has been thoroughly tan already this early on in their trip to the point that too much exposure to the sun kind of hurts unpleasantly already, Harry not faring any better. So as they took turns applying cool aloe vera gel in their heated skins last night, the couple had discussed to veer away from the sea and the beaches for their third day, and instead have planned to have a stroll around the less-crowded streets of Sorrento and to shop smartly at the local stores and markets.
That’s their current agenda in this moment, Sophia contently swinging Harry and hers clasped hands between them as they leisurely walk and sightsee the warm toned sceneries offered by Sorrento. Sophia giggles for the nth time this early in the morning when Harry once again whispers in her ears how effortlessly graceful and lovely she looks in her short yellow slip dress with hot pink flowers scattered around it.
“And, I think it was a prime decision to use this hot pink Prada re-edition 2000 nylon mini bag.” Harry adds, dropping a little kiss on her temple.
Sophia quirks her eyebrow at him, “You’re just saying that cause you’re the one who suggested it.”
“Okay, but it was done out of a reasonable explanation beca-”
“Because it perfectly matches the shade of pink of the flowers in your/my dress.” Sophia cuts in and joins Harry to mutter the exact same sentence he had said ever since the instant that she’d dressed comfortably in his presence earlier this morning.
“I see, you’re learning.” Harry jests, nosing at her cheek endearingly, “Now, I think I’m seeing a ceramic store just a few feet away from us. Let’s check it out so I can teach you this time the different kinds of plates and dishware and their specific usages.
Sophia doesn’t want to ruin his merry parade by saying there’s no need nor space in her brain to retain that kind of information, and instead allows Harry to guide her to cross the street and enter the local ceramic shop with the ever gentleman her bunny is opening the door for her.
The minute the couple has made it inside, Harry takes it upon himself to tour her around the shop and point and hold for her the specific dishware he’s describing (which she quickly intercepts and holds the fragile ceramics, knowing how clumsy her fiancé is), quite impressing Sophia by the abundant knowledge he has about bloody plates and bowls. Harry was probably talking too loudly, like every time he gets excited and passionate about something (like green drinks and rings) because the store owner approaches them and begins to speak in Italian.
Since Sophia only knows the most basic (if any at all, to be blatantly honest) of Italian, she lets Harry take the reins for this conversation as she nods and shakes her head in what she assumes is the appropriate time for it, picking the pieces that catch her fancy. Since they’ve agreed to spend wisely, after Harry’s chat with the kind store owner who had recommended the best of his works to them, Harry and Sophia are now in the till getting their chosen ceramics wrapped and paid shortly after.
“Why did you get two salad bowls?” Harry asks upon seeing it getting wrapped, “I think we already have a bunch at home.”
Sophia shrugs her shoulders, “I couldn’t pick which design I wanted the most. Like I love the vibrant yellow tones of the intricate lemon patterns on one of them, and then I also adore the detailed lemon tree on the other. Couldn’t just buy one and leave the other on the shelf.”
“Well did you not learn anything about the specific functions various dishware can be used for? Like, don’t you think we can make more use of mugs than salad bowls since we already have so much of them in our cupboards?”
Sophia smiles, cupping Harry’s left cheek and tapping it lightly, “Bunny, I’m buying them for their looks, not their functions. And please, you can’t fool me into buying more mugs for your mug collection in our cupboard. I’m not the only one who likes to hoard specific ceramics.”
Harry laughs loudly at being caught, dimples popping easily creating picturesque craters on his adorable cheeks, “Alright, looks like I’m marrying a salad bowl hoarder. How lucky of me.”
Sophia reaches up on her tip-toes to press a kiss on his smiling lips, “And I’m also lucky for getting the chance to marry a mug hoarder. I love you.”
“I love you too, my Sunflower.”
Their time in the ceramic shop ends after that, the two finding themselves in the narrow streets of Sorrento where some of the market stalls are located. Once again, Harry takes the lead of conversing with the local sellers to find the best deals and varieties of the goods they’re selling. At the moment, they’re stopped at a stall selling locally planted and harvested goods from the owner's private farm here in Sorrento. Harry has about tasted every variety of their homemade cheese, has bought a carton of their farm-grown chicken eggs, has chosen the basket of tomatoes of his liking, and is currently taste testing different lemons, which in Sophia’s honest opinion, isn’t even necessary, how different can each slice be when a lemon is simply just a lemon?
Nonetheless, Sophia lets Harry be, content in looking around her lively surroundings with her thumb clicking pictures away from her phone of anything that captures her attention in this quaint Italian market. Everything was going dandy, until Sophia notices that the stall owner that Harry has been conversing with, leaves to attend to another customer who seems to be a local and a regular based on the rapt attention the owner gives. Replacing his spot is a woman who she assumes is his daughter based on their distinct physical similarities, who eagerly attends to Sophia’s finances like a schoolgirl trying to do everything in her ability to please her crush.
Sophia might not be knowledgeable in Italian, but she is fully adept and a master of the language of flirting. Just one look at the woman’s pink cheeks, and eyelashes fluttering so much and so fast like she has some sort of a blinking disorder, Sophia already knows this woman is up to no good.
Because of the nature of their job, both Sophia and Harry are quite familiar and relaxed with the attention they receive from others, despite the fact that they’re souls are pretty much entwined for life and suggestive looks and advances from others are some of the things they’d like to receive much less of. Thankfully, their very affectionate nature translates greatly to the public, and actual flirting and suggestive advances have been very minimal. But of course, there’s just some special incidents that they’re present, like this instant.
Sophia’s not a jealous person, not at her core. However, there’s a new sense of possessiveness that seems to have been newly ingrained within her ever since Harry asked for her hand in marriage. She doesn’t know what it is, but every time she looks at her left ring finger and sees that glimmering rock safely and tightly nestled there, makes her feel extremely jovial with an added mixture of feeling powerful, like she now has the official rights to everything she desires, especially Harry’s love and devotion.
With narrowed eyes, Sophia’s determined to show this Italian woman who Harry belongs to. No matter how harmless her flirting might seem, Sophia does not take it lightly when she sees the woman had the audacity to hand-feed Harry with the sliced lemons. The uncomfortable look on her fiancé's face when her fingers forcefully prodded at his lips to open up, makes irritation crawl at Sophia’s skin.
Nobody gets to fucking do that, except for me, Sophia thinks as she unclenches her balled-up fists and finally strides to Harry’s personal space to save him.
“Bunny,” Sophia drawls much loudly than necessary based on their already too close proximity, “May I please have a taste of the lemons?” she asks prettily, the same tone she uses whenever she wants Harry’s undivided attention but is too shy to ask for it directly. Also, remembering to use proper grammar (‘May, lovie, not can!’ As Harry had expressed every time she kindly asks him to turn the lights off in their room, Sophia not giving a single shit to her grammar when all she wants to do is sleep) knowing how weirdly endeared Harry gets when she does it.
The tone always makes Harry so soft for her, never one to hide his naturally excessive affection and attention towards her especially when Sophia’s asking for it.
The same thing happens here wherein Harry’s lips instantly quirk up, aura instantly pliant, answering her willingly, “Of course, my Sunflower, anything you want you may get from how polite you are. Here you go,”
Harry tries to reach for a slice of lemon arranged on the plate the now frowning Italian woman is holding, however, Sophia quickly cups his cheek to turn towards her face, making sure that her engagement ring is directly facing the Italian flirt. Raising to her tip-toes, Sophia captures Harry’s unknowing full lips in a passionate kiss that their mothers would probably call them out for if they were here, saying that it was definitely too much and borderline rude for public viewing.
But Sophia doesn’t give a fuck, clearly bustling in her skin upon seeing the shock look of affront on the Italian flirt’s face from her peripheral vision. Harry’s perplexed expression greets her triumphed face after she releases his lips with a deep bite on his bottom lip.
Before Harry can verbalize his confusion, Sophia starts to perform the real art of flirting (she thinks this can also help the Italian woman if she wants to flirt more successfully with other innocent Brits on their engagement-moons, she’d accept the thanks later).
Sophia tones down her smile of victory to something more bashful, widening her big blue eyes just enough to achieve that innocent bambi eyes effect. She begins to flutter her eyelashes in no way near the speed that woman was doing earlier, batting it slowly and moderately as she looks underneath her long lashes at Harry. The final killing shot as Sophia likes to call it, is the calculated move of her lips, jutting out at just the perfect angle of a tiny pout. It’s not a sad pout, a mad pout, or an annoyed pout, it’s simply the enchanting flirting pout.
With Sophia’s left hand blatantly showcasing her ring still resenting on Harry’s cheek, she starts to rhythmically caress the slightly stubbled skin of his round cheek, speaking in faint boyishness.
“Thought it would be good to have a little bit of the sweetness of your taste to cut the tanginess of the lemon, you know how much I don’t like sour things, right bunny?”
And it works.
Harry’s earlier confusion is replaced by an intense dazed stare, as if he’s completely under whatever flirting spell Sophia has placed on him. He even nods his head, his own hand rising to clutch her hand that’s on his cheek as if to ground him and prevent him from floating away in her love charm.
“Yeah?” Harry replies just as softly in his slow, deep drawl, “Was the taste of my lips sweet enough to lessen the sourness of the lemon?”
Sophia grins, “Totally. It’s sweet enough that I might consider you buying some of these lemons and making us that lemon tart. Remember, bunny? The one we had right after you proposed to me?”
Harry just nods eagerly like the completely love-dazed bunny that he is, “The one I specifically made with the fresh lemons we bought that day in the farmers market in Hampstead? You know, I made sure to get the less sour ones for you, my love, because I wanted you to remember forever the dessert I made for you after I proposed and asked you to be my wife. You’d let me make us another one? Are you sure, sunflower? Don’t wanna make something that you don’t like that much.”
Sophia coos, Harry’s adorable rambling is utterly charming, “I’m sure, bunny. I’d eat anything you make because I love my fiancé a bunch. Besides, I think this kind lady selling you lemons will highly appreciate you purchasing some, yeah?”
The couple turn their attention to the Italian woman after being submerged in their own flirting world, this is the first time Sophia actually gets a good look at the woman after she had started her conniving ways to show the Italian flirt that Harry’s very much taken care of already. And boy, is Sophia having a hard time to control the smug expression trying to emerge on her features as the Italian woman is positively seething and red-flushed in her rooted position with the plate of lemons still on her raised hold.
The woman begins to speak in Italian very quickly to Sophia’s amusement and lack of understanding a single thing that left her lips. She thinks she doesn’t mind it though because it seemed to quicken their time spent here as whatever the woman said prompted Harry to finally choose the lemons he wants and to pay for the other things he had picked earlier. The next thing Sophia knows, the Italian flirt huffs indignantly at the two of them right after Harry has said his thanks and held her hand securely with his free one.
So, Sophia might have not taken into consideration the consequences of her art of flirting and possessive display of affection at Harry earlier. She doesn't know how it slipped her mind that Harry gets extremely turned-on whenever she overtly acts minx like.
The sexual tensions radiating out of her bunny was quite palpable the moment they made their way back to their rented Italian villa, the lovely and jittery Harry expressing quite simply that he wants to just go back at their place when Sophia had asked him where they should go next in the town of Sorrento.
It hits her why he wants that when Harry all-out attacks her with his skin-burning and soul-tingling kisses when they’ve finally arrived at the confines of their villa, pushing her back right against the closed front door, his own body pressed firmly against hers.
Their passionate kissing halts as simultaneous moans of pleasure escape their bitten-red lips when Harry’s tenting shorts rub against Sophia’s pulsing hot heat underneath her dress.
“Fuck,” Harry rubs against her again more purposely, the two moaning in unison, “Feel what you do to me, sunflower? You got me fucking rock hard from your little possessive stint there at the market earlier. Don’t even know why you got jealous, but shit, my fiancé’s hot when she’s jealous.
Sophia clings to Harry’s body even more, rutting up against him eagerly in the little rhythm they’ve started, “I honestly don’t know either, but the moment she started her horrible flirting on you, I just badly wanted to show her you’re mine. Fuck, oh bunny, keep going that’s so good.”
Sophia does not even care anymore if all they do is rut up against each other, fully clothed like teenagers sneaking around and trying to literally keep it in their clothes while still wanting to get each other off. It’s honestly surprising to Sophia that Harry’s will power seems to be much stronger than she initially thought with his extremely love-dazed loopiness from earlier. A shocked loud moan erupts from her when Harry picks her up all of a sudden, her legs and arms wrapping tightly around Harry in instinct as he carries her to somewhere she doesn’t know and mind at all as long as kissing and the caress of Harry’s lips on her heated skin never stops.
With her eyes closed, she gasps in surprise as the distinctly familiar Italian summer breeze hit her physique, knowing well enough now that Harry has definitely brought them outside their private veranda overlooking the surrounding nature and the roofs of the other villas who also had their own verandas that are slightly in-view of theirs.
Harry places her back on the ground, gently yet expertly maneuvering her body around with lips sucking bruises on the back of her neck as he guides Sophia on the railing of their veranda, her hands finding purchase on the cold metal with her bum slightly raised due to Harry’s clever hands holding them up in place, and he resumes grinding his crotch to hers in this new position with Harry on her back in full-control.
“Yes, fuck..” Sophia moans when Harry wraps an arm around her waist to keep her body up-right with her back pressed tightly on his heaving front. “More, bunny. Give me more.”
Sophia feels the smirk on Harry’s lips at the side of her neck, probably finding it amusing when she tries to move her lower body to chase the friction of their privates rubbing together that Harry has momentarily slowed down.
“Look at you, so eager..” Harry grants her one rough grind of his extremely hard cock, making sure to add the most pressure on her covered sensitive bud, the loud moan Sophia exhales quickly turns into an agitated whine when Harry withdraws any friction yet remains in contact with her pulsing cunt.
“Sunflower, you might want to slow down and keep it quiet, yeah? We don’t want you starting another scene if the other patrons in their villas hear you.” Harry whispers teasingly in her ear, his broad wet tongue salaciously licks her lobe.
Sophia grunts, tries to wiggle her bum to get the friction back. Harry’s strong hold around her waist prevents her from succeeding. “I don’t fucking care, bunny! Let them hear me getting fucked so good, that way they know I’m appreciating what’s mine cause my bunny is only mine to get fucked on.”
“Hmm, you’re the only one who I get to fuck and who gets to love me and praise me for it, is that right, lovie?” Harry hums, his left hand slowly making its way underneath her dress to which Sophia wishes lands on the place she wants his touch the most.
“Yes, yes.” Sophia nods wantonly, “You’re the only one, bunny. My only fiancé that gets my body feeling so good I can’t stop screaming how good you are, always gets me so fucking speechless-dumb from how good you give it to me, bunny.”
Harry chuckles darkly, left hand swiftly sliding down Sophia’s small little panties, cupping her already slick-leaking pussy which elicits a loud pleased moan out of her.
“You really know how to use your sweet words against me,” Harry remarks, middle and ring finger parting her lips to rub slow yet firm circles on her highly sensitive clit. “Guess I’m not the only one who gets stupidly love-charmed, huh? You’re gonna take everything I’ll give you and be my best girl by screaming your little lungs out to show how much you love it?”
“Ohh fuck, oh my god..” Sophia moans in instant pleasure not only due to Harry’s nimble fingers toying with her sensitive nub, but his salacious words don’t help either in slowing down the steady stream of her wetness ruining her designer underwear.
“I haven’t even started my special moves on your body yet, and you're already lost for words like I’d already performed my highly acclaimed fuckery skills.”
Sophia knows she shouldn’t, but she can’t help the loud laugh that erupts from her still aroused body at what Harry had just said. She’s not sure what’s she’s done in the past to be so lucky to have a boy that’s both lewd and ridiculously weird when it comes to sex.
“Special moves, and highly acclaimed fuckery skills?” Sophia quotes back, now thankfully reduced to giggles instead of howling laughter, “Are shitting you me, H? Why would you say that at this specific moment we’re having? With your hand literally on my cunt?”
Harry to his credit, chuckles with her and not at all offended at her reaction, “Just wanted to hear your melodious laughter before I ruin you to well pleased tears.”
Sophia was probably busy laughing her head off from Harry’s earlier statement because she genuinely did not feel nor hear him remove any of his clothes and yet his left hand had suddenly disappeared from inside her panties and is now slipping the crotch to the side, with the head of his cock pressing the surface of her folds.
Sophia moans in actual, unadulterated surprise, “Fuck! You’re magic, ohhh god more.”
Harry chuckles at her surprise reaction, though moans in pleasure just the same as he continues to rub his pre-come leaking cock on her pussy lips without breaching inside her warmth yet.
“See, I told you I have renowned fuckery skills.”
Sophia grins despite Harry not being able to see her with his face squished at the side of her neck leaving kisses, kitten licks, and sharp quick nips with his teeth.
“Fucking put your prick inside me already and I might just agree wholeheartedly with you.”
Harry groans in rapture, sucking a surely big and deep bruise on her neck, distracting Sophia for a second to what she had wanted. And when Harry suddenly plunges his prick inside her, it surprises Sophia so much that she jumps a little from the intrusion with her upper body falling forward and her hands finding purchase on the railings of the veranda. Thankfully Harry’s arms around her prevented her from face-falling to the ground, the latter hoisting her body upwards again as he thrusts his cock deeply inside her.
“Can’t go anywhere, sunflower.” Harry moans to her ears, enthusiastically pounding into her sweltering hot cunt, Sophia keening in pleasure as every time Harry thrust out before deeply thrusting back in, she feels her own juices flowing down to her thighs. The squeaky, wet noise of their bodies gyrating and thumping roughly together, added with the obscene sounds of the skin of Harry’s balls slapping the glistening hood of her clit, is everything that Sophia can hear in her lust-blown state.
“Not going anywhere, don’t wanna fucking go anywhere, ahhh shitt that’s so good oh my god, keep fucking that prick into me!”
Sophia’s ardent shrieks of pleasure probably affects Harry’s similar burning state of desire, his hips increasing its pounding speeds and hitting her pussy walls even deeper to the point that the couple abruptly stops in surprise when they feel his dick pressing all the way in Sophia’s stomach.
“Oh my god, you’re in my stomach, jesus fucking christ that’s deep,” Sophia mewls loudly when Harry resumes his movement with an experimental thrust, likely trying to make sure that it doesn’t hurt for her when he pounds this deep up to her stomach.
“You like that? Feeling my dick in your belly?” Harry the smug fuck that he is, even places a hand underneath Sophia’s bunched up dress to press his bulging dick on the skin of her stomach, Sophia screaming in utter euphoria. “I know sunflower, I know. It’s so fucking good that you can’t even say anything coherent anymore, huh? God, I can feel your pussy squeezing me and fuck me, your leaking wet cunt makes me just want to devour you after this.”
Sophia begins to return Harry’s thorough, rapid impaling of his dick on her positively pulsing vagina from his pistoning position from behind her, moaning and whimpering incessantly as she tries to find some simple words to say, “Uhh..nrgghh..noo, keep fucking, ohhh come please.”
“Come? You wanna come?” Harry parrots back, Sophia nodding vigorously with non-coherent pleads leaving her kissed-bruised lips, her body bouncing frantically to Harry’s rabid thrusting inside her, all thoughts laser focused on chasing her high.
Harry’s left hand returns to toy on her clit, rubbing furiously in time with his pounding, Sophia involuntarily shuddering at the intense sensations, “You can fucking come on my prick, yeah? My sunflower is so lovely and so good that she can release her cum anytime she wants. You gonna come, sunflower?”
Sophia feels overwhelmed, her gut clenching to the familiar feeling of her near release, “Yes, so good, bunny’s so good.” she babbles without thought, making Harry chuckle despite their fanatical fucking.
“Thank you sunflower, I know you're good too cause you’re going to come for me, huh? You’re going to come cause I make you feel so fucking good.”
If it’s even possible, Harry really starts fucking Sophia like a bunny in heat that not even a minute later, Sophia’s screaming in exultation as she finally comes.
“YES! BUNNY, YES!” Sophia allows her body to release every jubilation she currently feels; might it be in the form of her unrelenting screams and whimpers, the slow stream of highly satisfied tears wetting her cheeks, or the hot, sticky cum gushing down from inside her cunt, down to her dainty ankles. Everything intensifies again when Sophia feels Harry’s dick begin to twitch inside her, pumping his warm cum within her.
“Holy shit.” Sophia tiredly exhales, hearing Harry hiss from behind her as he disconnects his now soft cock away from her vagina, said vagina now begins to excrete Harry’s cum mixing with her own release in a white and viscous liquid slowly trickling down her legs.
“There’s no way that’s only the amount of load I deposited in you,” Harry suddenly says in a tone of incredulity, eyes looking down at the mess on Sophia’s legs.
Sophia snorts in reply, rolling her eyes at his questioning, “Why do you have to ask that? You sound like a total idiot.”
Harry wiggles his eyebrows playfully, “An idiot who gave you a huge amount of cum, now squeeze that beautiful cunt of yours to push-out anymore of my semen that’s still in your tummy cause I don’t want you to get any UTI.”
Sophia feels endeared despite his manner of questioning from earlier, obediently squeezing out more of Harry’s ejaculation resulting the latter to dip a finger on the bubbling white substance on her inner thighs and making a show of sucking his mixed-cum covered finger in front of her.
“Harry,” Sophia widens her eyes at him, “We’re not going again, not gonna happen.”
Harry pouts his now white stained lips, “But I said that I wanted to eat you out earlier. Come on, sunflower. We still have a lot of time left before we go out for dinner. What can we possibly do instead of me having a go with you again? With my mouth this time, though.”
“I don’t know? Maybe we can go to the nearest jewelry shop here to get a ring on that left finger of yours so no other Italian flirt can even think about trying to seduce you again?”
“And lessen the chances of getting to fuck like rabbits again? I don’t think so. In fact, I think we can add possessive/jealous fucking to my list of kinks.
Their fourth day in Italy is hot beyond belief.
Not in the ‘hot’ way with Harry following his desires from yesterday of eating Sophia out, but ‘hot’ in the literal sense of the burning temperature.
Despite sleeping in the nude last night, Harry and Sophia had woken-up tangled together from head to toe, the duvet of theirs had seemingly found solace on the floor of their bed if their sweat-glistening skin are any indication that it must have been a literal steamy night. Ever since they’ve woken-up and gotten their bearings, the couple had forgone wearing anything beside Harry in his yellow trunks, and Sophia in her matching yellow bikini set. It was also probably the constant sweltering heat that had affected their lazy mood of the day as moving too much resulted in exerting more energy, which led to letting out more sweat.
So for their fourth day, Harry and Sophia had comfortably settled in the confines of their Italian villa, mostly residing in the comfortable, decent sized living area, or when it’s really too hot inside, the two lounge around the open-area of their veranda in one of the two lounge beds located there. Much to Sophia’s dismay, her evidently sweaty skin does not scare Harry away from finally settling down on his own lounge bed. No matter the amount of pleading and whining Sophia performs just to persuade him to stop crowding her already warm personal space, Harry had been keen in staying glued to her side by bringing out a book to read for him and her. Knowing Harry though, he can’t sit still for the life of him especially when he’s chilling time has been reduced to reading which normally, the boy does not do unless it’s late at night and he can’t sleep.
Luckily for Sophia, Harry does end up being restless when after their delivered lunch of fresh margarita pizza and too many different kinds of Italian bread that Harry had stupidly ordered because he apparently, ‘loves bread so much he just had to taste every single one of them’ then proceeds to the bathroom after taking a huge bite of the sixth kind, saying he needed a wee. We all know that’s not the case, and the disturbing wrenching sounds Sophia has overheard when she had passed the bathroom area is enough proof of that. So, a now extremely bread-full Harry does not have it in his sanity to lay back down beside Sophia on the lounge bed no matter how much he had gushed to her the intriguing plot of the roman novel he was reading earlier.
Instead, he leaves a secretly pleased-to-be-finally-alone Sophia with a sweet kiss on her lips as he fetches his expensive camera equipment in their room, presumably to take pictures of her or their current surroundings. Sophia doesn’t mind one bit, content in flipping page after page of the mystery novel she’s reading while sipping on the green juice that Harry had happily made for her after she requested for some afternoon refreshments. The only time her attention was veered away from her book is when Harry calls for her much later in the day.
“Sunflower, look!” Harry excitedly says, he’s standing below one of the large trees that's rooted just outside the veranda of their villa, four round lemons on his hold.
“What?” Sophia asks, lowering the perch of her sunnies on her nose bridge to have a better look at her fiancé.
“It’s a lemon tree!” Harry answers in the same overly enthusiastic manner, “If I had known there’s a literal lemon tree just outside our villa where we can just get lemons for free, I wouldn’t have bought some in the market yesterday so you also wouldn’t have been so threatened by that kind woman.”
“Oh shut-up!” Sophia rolls her eyes at his obvious teasing, his merry laughter leaving no room for her to be actually mad at him.
“What did you call her again? You had a specific name for her.”
“What else, she’s the Italian flirt.” Sophia says in a ‘duh’ tone, “And by the way, I wasn’t threatened by her, like at all.”
Harry’s laughter should really be annoying, especially when the volume increases and the boy even had the audacity to laugh so hard his thumping his own thighs with his big hands, letting the lemons he was holding fall on the ground. He didn’t even give a fuck when they all rolled to the side of the veranda and fell on the holes of the metal railing.
“Why is that her nickname?” Harry begins to speak, visibly trying his hardest to control the giggles from coming out, “Does that mean if I had met her back at home, you would have called her the London flirt? Sunflower, I’m sorry to say but your nicknaming skills lack some creativity.”
“You’re one to talk,” Sophia guffaws, “you named your cat Dusty because you said she still looked ‘dusty’ after you had bathed her for the first time. You’re just as bad at nicknames like me.”
“Now don’t drag my poor innocent cat into the conversation,” Harry chastises Sophia, beaming brightly at her nonetheless.
“Our cat, Mr. Styles. I think marrying means merging assets which includes house pets.”
Similarly to what Sophia had done earlier, Harry slides down his sunnies in the lower part of his nose bridge, then proceeds to give Sophia a deadpan look with a complete one hand resting on his hip like the complete diva that he can be. “Are you kidding me right now? You’re the one who told me I can’t call you by my surname yet cause we aren’t technically married yet.”
Sophia throws him a cheeky smile in return, shrugging her shoulders in a cool as a cucumber expression, “Baby, I didn’t see that stopping you from calling me your spouse for the rest of the day, did it? And if I remember correctly, you booked this villa we’re staying at with the establishment thinking we’re newly weds. Don’t think I forgot the fucking mess those rose petals were!”
Both Harry and Sophia laugh in remembrance of their first day upon arriving in Sorrento. From any of their past holidays together, Sophia was always the one booking their accommodations while he left Harry to plan their itinerary. Except for this engagement-moon, Sophia got super busy with a campaign in New York for the summer jewelry collection of Tiffany & Co. and had no wits left to find and book them a place. Then steps in Harry, the self-proclaimed Italian-expert-I’m-Basically-Half-Italian-At-This-Point and had willingly taken the task to find them a place. The boy had even sent her New York hotel room a goodie basket filled with Italian treats as some sort of preamble to their trip all the way from London.
Everything thus far in their trip had been normal when they had taken their flight from Heathrow to the Naples airport and then their rented car ride from Naples to Sorrento. Sophia’s wariness only kicked-in upon arriving at the reception area of their place in Sorrento, the lady at the front desk instantly referring to them as Mr. & Mrs. Styles despite their lack of wedding. Although, Sophia had thought at that time that maybe the lady had seen their engagement announcement on their respective social media accounts, with Harry literally captioning his ‘The Styles, 2021’ like all the vows and rings have been exchanged already.
Obviously, the main tell of what Harry had apparently done is the bloody amount of rose petals scattered in their villa upon their arrival, with a bunch of lighted candles completing the romantic atmosphere. Sophia had been shocked at the atrocity of the heart shaped rose petals dispersed on their bed with two swan-folded towels at the side of a bucket of ice and champagne, the assorted box of chocolates was also properly present in the selection.
Just like that same day, Harry’s giving Sophia a sheepish look right now, returning her unconcerned shrug of a shoulder, “The honeymoon package was much cheaper than booking us the presidential villa. I think you should even be thanking me right now, sunflower. Since we are starting to save more for our future mini Harrys and mini Sophias.”
The mention of children has always made Harry beam in unbridled happiness, though the mention of their children, makes him shine like the fucking sun. It’s highly endearing and heart-melting for Sophia to see her bunny so excited about building this life together with her, quite literally in some aspects since they are technically going to build life for them to have children.
“Well thank you for that, lovie.” Sophia relents with a grin, “Now may you please tell me why you called my name in the first place?”
“Oh!” Harry exclaims in recollection, “I saw the lemon tree and plucked out some of them so I can teach you how to juggle.”
How odd yet lovable can this man-child be, Sophia thinks, “And why do you plan to teach me juggling, bunny?”
“Sunflower, I’m going to teach you to be a master juggler like myself so that during our wedding reception, our first dance as the newlyweds won’t be boring.”
“What do you mean it won’t be boring?” Sophia asked, absolutely confused at what he had just said.
Harry looks at her with this look that he can’t understand why she doesn’t get it yet, making his way to the lounge bed with four new lemons on his hands, “I don’t think I’ve seen a couple do their first dance and then surprise their guests with a juggle break, so, us Styles are going to be the first one in wedding history to juggle during our dance.”
Sophia squawks an absolutely surprised laugh, “You want us to juggle during our first dance? Are you crazy, H? I think why you haven’t seen any other newly weds do such acts it’s because the idea’s bloody demented.”
“Heyyy..” Harry pouts in a whine, “Don’t go shutting down my idea without having a go at it.”
Sophia just snorts and welcomes Harry to her side as he plops his slightly sweaty body beside her on the lounge bed. Harry slots himself under Sophia’s arm and props his face on her chest to give her collarbones a few affectionate pecks, Sophia’s hand ruffling the messy angelic curls atop his head.
“I’m down to learn juggling,” Sophia remarks, “but I’m not sure if it’s a wise decision to mix it in our wedding planning, like I don’t want to hit anyone in the eye if I fail to catch one, heck who am I kidding? I’d probably not catch any of them with how bad my eye and hand coordination can get.”
Harry’s giggles vibrate from Sophia’s chest, “Yeah, I think I get your point. I’d rather not have to remember my wedding as the day my own wife had injured my nan with a flying beanbag that I had to go and take her to A&E.”
“Heyyy, now you’re just taking the piss.”
The couple’s afternoon had moved along from there on. Sophia genuinely allowed Harry to teach her some juggling techniques, which only lasted for a good 15 minutes before Harry had reached the point of having enough body pain for Sophia’s every uncaught lemon hitting him. Though Harry can’t really complain if it got him his fiancé’s delicate and gentle hands rubbing aloe vera gel on every sore area on his body.
When the sky had turned an ombré orange with a tint of pink swirls mingled in the perfect picture of the Italian sunset, Sophia has been charmed by her bunny to stay-in for dinner again, although this time, the two of them will cook their dinner with the array of produced they got in the market yesterday.
In all honesty, Sophia does not like to cook. She won’t proclaim that she’s an absolute shit cook when she’s still able to make a mean cheese toastie and Harry and her favorite soft-centered chocolate chip cookies. Her always on the go lifestyle has also contributed to her lack of time to explore cooking, and if she does have some free time, she’d rather make sure whatever she’s eating would be edible. Harry on the other hand, is kind of on the same boat as she is when it comes to the field of cooking, it’s just that her bunny thinks he has an innate inner culinary genius within himself that he’s yet to properly unleash. So between the two of them, Harry’s definitely the one who subjects himself to overly seasoned or burnt dishes due to his inspiring cooking attempts. Tonight however, would be the first time they will attempt to cook something from scratch together.
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Sophia muses as she watches Harry arrange their ingredients in the kitchen countertop.
Harry dismisses her sentiments with a scoff, “What do you mean it’s not a good idea? This is a proper domestic activity that we can use as a practice ground from when we’re married and sharing a house and everything that’s entailed in being spouses.”
“Bunny, we’ve been sharing the same house after four months of knowing each other and I didn’t see you making me any pasta from scratch. I think we’re way past domestic cooking practice, spouses or not. Let’s just accept that we’re two idiots in the kitchen.”
Harry gives her a ‘tsk’ sound, seemingly unaffected by her negative outlook as he proceeds to place an apron on her bikini-covered body, going behind her back to tie the knot. Harry then wraps his arms around her waist with his bare chest flushed against her back, “Baby, will you please stop being so negative and humor me for tonight? We can end up making the most abominable pasta dish and I’d still have the time of my life creating it with you. So don’t worry your pretty little head into anything.”
Sophia sighs in resignation, knowing Harry’s absolutely correct that knowing them, whatever they end up doing, as long as they're together doing the activity, everything will still be fine and dandy. “Well who’s going to have to eat raw pasta noodles with the awfully seasoned marinara sauce?”
“You, obviously.” Harry pinches her bare tummy making Sophia squeak in surprise, “Look how skinny your model body is in that bikini. I say you need more food in you.”
Sophia backs away from Harry’s hug, crossing her arms on her lemon printed apron as she watches Harry put on his matching one, “I mean, we still have that tremendous amount of bread from your little stint earlier so maybe it won’t be that bad if I just stuff my face with more gluten to mask the awful taste.”
“Will you look at that!” Harry claps his soapy hands in glee as he’s so keen on getting the cooking started that he’s began washing his hands, “My sunflower being more positive of the situation already, keep it up buttercup!” and he lands a swat on the bare cheek of Sophia’s bum while it was the latter’s turn to innocently wash her hands after him.
“Bunny! Keep your hands to yourself, mister.”
“Or else we might not get any cooking cause you’d rather I keep the spanking in our bedroom?” Harry wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, one hand leaning on the kitchen counter highlighting his bulging biceps.
“No,” Sophia passes by him to get his Ipad where the recipe of their dish is located, “it’s or else I’d make you use your hands to knead the pasta dough all by yourself.”
“Psh,” Harry flicks his right hand like that’s no big deal, “I’d probably do a better job at it by just doing it all myself.”
“Now’s not the time to get too cocky,” Sophia amusedly inquires, reading the pasta dough recipe on the screen with Harry’s chin perched on top of her shoulder to read along, “this seems quite easy, but there’s surely a catch here somewhere.”
“Don’t get all bloody detective-like on a pasta dough recipe, sunflower. This isn’t a mystery case trying to be solved like the books you love to read.” Harry says, while Sophia laughs along with Harry’s accurate observation.
The two go on with actual cooking instead of just discussing and bickering like the old married couples they’re truly destined to be. Harry places the flour, eggs, olive oil, and salt in front of the two of them, beginning to pour the flour on the kitchen surface to create their flour wall.
After he’s done that, Sophia leaves him for a second to get a bowl where they can crack and beat their eggs on. When she returns, it’s to the scene of Harry attempting to crack an egg to place it directly on the hollow center of their flour wall.
“What are you doing?!” Sophia asks horrified, quickly crossing the distance between them, halting Harry from his action in surprise, “I just got the bowl for our eggs, why are you putting it directly on the flour?”
Harry frowns at her in return, “Because that’s how it’s supposed to be?”
“But I didn’t see that specific instruction on the website we’re reading the recipe at.”
“Well that’s what I’ve seen Gordon Ramsay do in that one Master Chef episode we watched,”
Sophia narrows her eyes at Harry, “So you’d rather trust Gordon Ramsay than the woman you’re about to marry?”
“Obviously.” Harry answers straight away making Sophia laugh at his honesty, “You might be the top paid supermodel around the world, but you ain’t the culinary god that Chef Ramsay is. I still love you though and will continue to marry you.”
“Nice save,” Sophia giggles, pecking Harry’s pouting lips waiting for a kiss. “I guess you’re right; I’d rather we blame Gordon Ramsay when this ends up going to shit than myself.”
“That’s the spirit!” Harry chuckles, raising his hand for a high-five which Sophia gladly returns. “Now I’d crack the eggs, add the olive oil plus salt, and then I’ll give you the honors to knead it first?”
Sophia agrees for Harry to go ahead, watching his slow and cautious movement of performing his task. It’s probably not Harry and Sophia’s finest idea to cook their dinner together in just their swimwear because they’re just in step one and Sophia’s already getting transfixed on Harry’s tattoos like it’s the first time she’s seeing it again. Harry’s naked body is enough distraction when she’s doing the thing she knows the most, which is modeling. Getting distracted by Harry’s bareness while doing something she hardly knows any shit about, is probably beyond dangerous than she thinks. Just imagining her bunny looking this hot, bare chested with nothing but his boxers and an apron on while cooking breakfast in their London home for her and by then pregnant belly, she’s unsure if she can go on with her pregnancy if her ovaries already want to explode in that divine moment.
“Done,” Harry says, removing Sophia away from her rather intense imagination, “you should knead it already, sunflower. Before the eggs and oil go everywhere.”
Sophia sees the fragile looking pile of the flour and the liquid of the egg and the oil nestled in its little crater, “Don’t you think we should whisk it first?”
“Yeah, I think that’s the right step to do first,” Harry agrees thoughtfully, handing Sophia the metal whisk for her to use.
Sophia, thankfully knows how to whisk with all the cookie baking she does sometimes without any electronic mixer. Her confidence level was definitely high when she started whisking the eggs and oil together, thinking that it’s only step two and nothing can really go wrong yet. Except it does. Just a few whisks in, their flour wall seems to not be so sturdy and it can’t absorb all the liquids making the slippery substance start to flow on the kitchen countertop instead of staying in the flour like it’s supposed to. Harry and Sophia look at each other in panic.
“What do I do?!” Sophia exclaims in a frenzy upon more liquid escaping their flour wall.
“Start kneading it already so the liquid ingredients get incorporated with the flour!” Harry replies in the same panicked nature as he watches the slight horror unfold.
“Alright, alright!” Sophia acknowledges hurriedly, ready to get the business done with her hands except that she catches a glimpse of her shining engagement ring and she just can’t knead a wet and slippery pasta dough with that majestic thing getting contaminated.
“Lovie, can you please take off my ring?” Sophia requests holding out her left hand to a confused and frowning Harry.”
“Why would I do that?!” He asks in disbelief, “You never take off your ring wherever you go. Heck, you’ve never taken it off since I placed it there!”
“Bunny!” Sophia groans thinking that it’s really not the time for his drama, “I don’t have the time to listen to your dramatic monologue, I need this ring off so it doesn't get doughy-wet and oily. Will you please just remove it before we have no pasta dough left to knead?”
“But,” Harry looks conflicted at her urgent request, “But that ring’s super special! That’s like the embodiment of my undying love for you and how that will never leave, and then you’re just going to want me to take it off of you? Sunflower, that’s like sacrilegious in my books becau-”
“HARRY! JUST TAKE THE BLOODY RING OFF FOR FUCK’S SAKE!”
The yelling seems to do the trick, Harry following her order just like the obedient husband that he aspires to be. Though some petulant looks were still thrown Sophia’s way as both of them started to knead the thankfully, the now tangible pasta dough. Harry’s pouting definitely diminished by the time they were able to successfully portion the pasta dough equally, letting it rest for thirty minutes as they now shift their attention to the Italian marinara sauce.
“Do you think we’re pros now?” Harry asks Sophia as they take turns washing their messy hands, “Like should we start calling our managers to book us some guestings for cooking reality tv shows so we can show those arrogant chefs that gorgeous models like us can cook too.”
Sophia chuckles in reply, gladly letting Harry dry her hands with the same dish towel he used to dry his, “It seems to me you’re just as arrogant as them if you think making pasta dough without even turning it to pasta yet makes us an instant pro at the kitchen.”
“Well maybe it is,” Harry supposes, “but I’m pretty sure I’d make a more exceptional marinara sauce than those guys.”
Sophia provides a non-verbal response in the form of a hum. Harry might not have made her any pasta from scratch in the past, but he has helped his mother countless times in making this Italian marinara recipe that they’re going to be using tonight every time Anne has invited them over at her place to feed them with homely and hearty meals that they’re missing in their own flat. Though Harry has yet to make it all by himself, Sophia knows it’s still worth something that he already took part in the making of it, which raises the chances of it being edible which really, is the only thing they’re hoping for.
Because Harry has usually done the prepping of the ingredients before, he delegates that task to Sophia as he takes the reins of cooking it on the stove. Chopping a huge amount of tomatoes is a task Sophia would rather have than anything relating to a heat source which has the tendency for her to burn something. With that being said, let’s not forget her awful hand and eye coordination at the earlier juggling escapade, a knife replacing the position of a lemon should certainly frighten her and Harry.
“Chop slowly,” Harry instructs her for the nth time, his regular slow deep drawl that usually calms Sophia down is starting to irk her right now.
“Yes, I know, bunny. You’ve just told me a million times in the past ten seconds.” Sophia reptiles, right hand raised with her palm upwards waiting for Harry to hand her the knife cause she’s apparently some child who can’t be trusted with sharp objects.
“I’m just making sure, baby. Don’t want you getting any scratches or god forbid, cuts on your fingers. That just won’t do.”
“I know, and I love you for caring so much about me, now can you please hand me over the knife?”
Harry still has a hesitant look on his face, “You promise you’re going to call for my help if there’s anything you don’t know how to chop?”
Sophia nods her head, smiling sincerely at her fiancé who’s overbearing protectiveness that as much as she would like to get irritated with, she can’t with how adorable he is. “I promise, bunny. I’m going to drop the knife on the chopping board and ask for your help when I need to.”
That seems to appease Harry’s worries, albeit slightly knowing him and his instinctive papa bear tendencies are always going to be there. So he hands the knife carefully to Sophia’s waiting hand before making the short walk to the stovetop.
“Oh, by the way,” Sophia chirps as she starts to make an assembly line of the tomatoes, “I also promise to take great care that none of my fingers are going to make it at our marinara pasta.”
“SUNFLOWER!” Harry shrieks in horror as he wipes his entire body to her direction after facing her backwards tending to the stovetop, “Don’t joke about those things, my love!”
Sophia giggles like the naughty minx that she is amidst the genuine frown on Harry’s face. When the latter seems to second guess his earlier granting of knife access to Sophia, he makes a show of walking back to her to supposedly take it from her. So Sophia, out of pure panic that Harry would take away this chance of her to sharpen her knife skills, raises the knife and points it to a nearing Harry in warning.
“SUNFLOWER!” Harry screams again in terror, arms instinctively raising up in surrender like the sort of thing one does whenever a deadly weapon is thrusted to them in caution. “Please slowly put the knife back down on the counter top.”
Harry’s reaction is what prompts Sophia to realize what she’s done and how possibly dangerous this situation can be. She squeaks in surprise and drops the knife to the floor, the loud clattering sound makes both Harry and Sophia jump in surprise.
“Fuck!” Harry curses, right hand coming to rest on his probably rapidly beating heart if he’s in the same situation as Sophia is (which he should be the one feeling like that since he’s the one that got pointed the knife). “I said slowly, sunflower.”
“Sorry,” Sophia responds apologetically, “Can’t expect me to react otherwise after I’ve realized what I was doing.”
“What? That you just got your fiancé at knifepoint?”
“Bunny,” Sophia whines in embarrassment at Harry’s attempt to exploit her mistake, “I said I’m sorry, please don’t start teasing me right now.”
Harry chuckles as he bends down to pick the discarded knife on the floor, “I think that just serves you right for teasing me first, sunflower. In fact, I think it’s the wise decision to never leave you unattended with extremely sharp objects that can potentially turn an aspiring romantic story of fiancés having their engagement-moon in the Amalfi Coast before they officially tie the knot, turn into a murder mystery of the engaged woman accidentally killing her fiancé while they’re just attempting to make their bloody dinner from scratch.”
Sophia grins in interest, “Wouldn’t that story be a New York’s Time Best Selling novel though?”
Harry’s teasing glint is replaced with a blank face of disbelief, and it’s enough for Sophia to shut her own smile, pouting her lips instead with her chin turned downwards like a scolded child. She seconds the motion and does not even put up a fight when Harry had barely let her chop anything, content in lining the tomatoes Harry needs to chop and properly arranging those he had chopped in a separate bowl.
Just like their earlier pasta dough making, the only mishap they’ve faced is in the first steps of making the marinara sauce, aka: ‘When my fiancé had me at knifepoint in Italy’ is what Harry titles it now and how he said he’d call it when their family and friends ask for stories on how their holiday in the Amalfi Coast went. So overall, besides Sophia's mistake and Harry’s relentless teasing, they finished making the marinara sauce and it is now left in the stovetop to reduce for another hour.
Harry and Sophia return their focus back on their resting portioned pasta doughs, Harry taking it upon himself to assemble the specific parts that they would use in the pasta maker that their villa conveniently stores. The couple had agreed to turn their pasta dough into pappardelle because their logic is the wider their pasta would be, the faster they’ll finish their doughs which also equates to the quicker they’d be away from the face of mistakes.
Sophia makes sure to flour sufficiently the pasta maker, because based from the cookie shows Harry and her indulge in, contestants fuck up when they just sprinkle a little bit of flour on their pasta machine making their pasta dough stick to its metal surface. Harry and Sophia don’t want to fuck up this late in their first cooking tryst, and being able to detect that possible door of mistake before stupidly doing so, Sophia thinks Harry and her are in the right path to becoming kitchen pros as they share a kiss of victory at being able to successfully produce their first strand of pappardelle.
The laughter the two of them share as each pasta strand they finish making is placed on Harry’s outstretched arms after realizing they have no pasta rack, is beyond doubt one of the best moments Sophia’s had in their entire stay thus far in this trip. Harry’s theatrics of dancing around their kitchen using the dangling strands of pasta on his arms and shoulders as some sort of expensive fringe robe. Now Sophia can really see the appeal of why Harry is such a successful model; her bunny can wear and sell anything, even bloody pasta!
“Do you want a matching pasta headband for that fancy pappardelle robe you have on?” Sophia jokes, holding the last few pieces of pasta.
“No thanks,” Harry kindly declines, “I’m already going to have to wash my flour-slicked body more attentively, I don't want my hair being subjected to the same treatment.”
“Yeah, don’t want your angel curls to be mistreated, huh?” Sophia agrees, affectionately reaching on tiptoes to gently tousle his luscious curls.
Harry giggles, “This is the real reason why I didn’t have to wine and dine you the first we met, you fell for the cherubic curls instantly.”
“Good thing you're compensating now by wining and dining me in the romantic and picturesque Amalfi through your own handmade meal. Too bad you didn’t press grapes on the basin with your feet to wine me with your own wine.”
Harry laughs as the two of them begin to remove the pasta strands all-over his body, “Ohh, I’m beginning to think that’s your way of saying that you want a repeat of tonight. Sunflower, are we currently experiencing your culinary awakening? This is monumental!”
Maybe it’s the nature of their trip, an engagement-moon that celebrates their relationship which for Sophia holds much more weight than their coming wedding. Sophia and Harry don’t need a piece of paper to dictate and justify their love for one another, being with each other both mentally and physically, and becoming each other's pillar of strength through troubled and delighted times is already enough. The wedding is more of a gift for their family and friends, to grant them the ability to celebrate their relationship with them.
It’s that thought that resonates within Sophia as Harry and her indulge the surprisingly delicious marinara pappardelle dish of their creation with the side of Harry’s warmed bread leftovers, and a glass of red wine that will soon be refilled for a second helping.
Harry’s correct, this moment is definitely monumental. Maybe not in the same sense as he directly means it, but their night together and every single precious moment they’ve spent on this trip has just made Sophia love and treasure the special relationship that Harry and her have even more. Sophia knows wholeheartedly now, that she’s ready to be married to him, to change her surname to Styles, to merge all their belongings together including their beloved personal pets.
In Sophia’s books, Harry and her are pretty much soul-bonded to begin with.
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