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wonderlandrry · 29 days

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hi, this is my first ever attempt at writing on tumblr!! the story could be more than one part if you like it (maybe three or four parts). this is also my first time not writing in first person pov so hopefully it doesn’t suck complete ass. (not really edited and idk how to format either so GREAT first impression, friends.)

pov: best friend! harry x you (aka i tried my best lmao)

blurb: you and harry have been best friends your whole life and one night changes everything.

contains: friends to lovers, bad girl x good boy if you squint, smoking green 🍃, smut, cussing, oral (giving and receiving for both characters), praise kink, and size kink if you squint really hard again and read between the lines lmao.

word count: 5k

• NOT RAMADAN FRIENDLY •

just friends

“You sure you don’t want me to come up?” Rylan’s honey eyes flick from your dorm bulging back to yours. The tension from tonight’s argument is fresh in those crinkles next to his eyes that you used to love. Fucking adore.

Parting your lips, you sigh, “See you around.”

“Don’t be like that,” A ringless hand runs through his dark hair. You’re not exactly sure why you’re focusing on that but here we are. “It was a joke, come on.”

Your hand rests on the door handle, silently contemplating on freaking the fuck out again. This isn’t the first time he’s made jokes, very public jokes about your best friend. The very first time you let it slide with a warning because some people don’t understand that you can be just friends with the opposite gender. They can’t wrap their heads around that not every relationship revolves around sex. You understood but tonight? He went too far.

“Saying Harry follows me like a stray dog,” You have to take a deep breath because Rylan doesn’t know what Harry’s been through. That only pisses you off more. “Was too far.”

“He doesn’t have any friends, Lil, just you.”

“Because he’s smart, he doesn’t have friends because he’s fucking brilliant.” It was true, Harry focused more on school and baseball than friendships. He got a full ride to Calloway University reliant on grades and his pure, raw talent. Some would stop there but he took it a step further by studying physics. Now it’s your turn to run a hand through your hair because this is the fourth fight over your best friend. “Don’t be a dick.”

“Do you not see how fucked that is?” He hisses, making your head snap in his direction. “You’re supposed to be dating me, not him.”

You scoff, “So that’s what this is?”

Rylan’s hold tightened on the steering wheel, so tight that his knuckles were almost white. “Look, I don’t care that you’re friends with him but you spend too much time-”

That confirmed everything for you. Your long friendship with Harry wasn’t the problem. Rylan knew how much Harry meant to you and how your friendship was all you had sometimes. He knew yet the fact that he didn’t have your full attention every waking moment of the day was the source of cruel jokes.

“You’re threatened, huh?” His knuckles blanched even more as the words left your mouth. “Listen to the words coming out of my mouth, Ry. Harry’s been my best friend since I was seven. Nothing has and will never happen between us. I would never sleep with him and ruin our friendship.”

“I see how you guys look at each other.”

Your whole face heats, it’s literally on fire. “You’re seeing things because we’re just friends.”

“You’re in denial.” Fuck. This.

Those three words were enough to push you. Push you to fling open the car door and launch yourself onto the pavement. They were enough to heat your whole body to the point that chilly winter air wasn’t enough to simmer down your anger. You don’t even bother slamming the door shut because that asshole can get out and shut it himself. That’s what he gets for constantly trying to pry a confession out of you. A confession that doesn’t exist but he still won’t accept it. The security guard gives a weary smile as you pass him, an obvious witness of the whole shit show. You look over your shoulder just in time to watch Rylan peel out.

He doesn’t follow you, shocker. Not that you wanted him to but you also didn’t expect him to. He acts like he cares but when push comes to shove, actions don’t match the words constantly flying out of that stupid mouth.

Unlocking and relocking the door with a soft click, your dorm is oddly dark and quiet. It looks like no one has been here all day. This is a possibility since Ellie spends most nights with her boyfriend. You slide off your black vans and place your bag on the hooks by the door. Seniors get a common room and separate bedrooms in student housing and you love the privacy. Honestly? It’s hard as fuck to hook up sharing a room with someone. El never cared who you brought home but felt weird as hell, yano?

From: ball boy (11:35 pm)

you home?

To: ball boy (11:36 pm)

yeah

You loosen your claw clip and honey-blond waves tumble. Walking into your room, you slip out of the cute-ass outfit you spent an hour perfecting and into some random band shirt with no bra and spandex shorts. Such a shame because you looked hot, too bad the night didn’t end with Ry ripping this lacy, black corset off you. Sucks for him.

From: ball boy (11:42 pm)

open the window before Mack catches my ass.

Your eyes snap toward the only windows in your room. The sheer, black curtains were closed but they did a shit job keeping the sunlight out so, honestly, how good were they for privacy? Your heart hammers thinking about Harry seeing you. How he could’ve seen all of you, not just what you choose to show off. The thought made your heart hammer.

From: ball boy (12:46 am)

don’t tell me you’re fucking someone right now

From: ball boy (12:47 am)

fuckin’ sick, lil

Annoyed, you rip open the curtains to find Harry’s cocky expression staring straight at you. It’s too dark to make out his full face but you can tell by the smirk tipping the left side that he’s amused. Making your favorite dimple dent even deeper. In one swift motion, the latch unlocks letting him in. He’s done this a million times, yano? Sneaking in your room for late-night study sessions, movie nights, or sleepovers. You’ve shared a bed countless times but never crossed that line, he’s your best friend. There are rules in place to save your friendship. He means more to you than one night of pleasure. Always has.

“Nice shirt, been looking for that everywhere.” Evergreen eyes bounce across your face, “Thought you had a date.”

You blow out a breath, “Not anymore.”

He smirks, dimple popping, “Obviously.”

“Thought you had plans.” You counter because Harry may not have many friends but that didn’t mean anything when it came to his sex life. He had trouble talking to girls but that didn’t seem to matter because they flocked to him. There was just something about him that drew people in, you included especially you. Maybe it was his ability to make anyone in the room feel special; wanted by having his undivided attention.

His lips purse, “Nah, not tonight.”

“Why?”

He gives you a pointed look giving away that he knows, “You know why.”

Guilt settles into your stomach, that stupid sinking feeling of being caught hit full force. He had the same argument with Grace that you did with Rylan tonight. They seem to argue more though and it kills you seeing him upset. You know he cares about her but he loves you. Maybe not romantically but definitely platonically and that means something to him. Every time they have this conversation, you know you should walk away. It's always your first instinct to protect people you love and you love your best friend. But, you’d rather die than let him go and that’s selfish as fuck but true. You sigh, “Harry-”

“I’m good,” He closes the distance and wraps you into a hug and it feels like home. Your favorite type of hug. “Worried about you.”

You smile against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heart hitting your cheek, “Nothing a Star Wars marathon won’t cure, Stud.”

His face lights up, “God, I could kiss you, Lil.”

“Whatever you say, ball boy.” Your heart flutters violently but you ignore the feeling. He always jokes like this in secret and maybe that’s the reason no one believes you’re just friends. But, they’re just jokes, yano.

“Ball boy?” He scoffs, making you tilt your chin to meet his gaze. When your eyes finally focus, Harry’s staring at you with his stupid, dimpled smile. Just because he’s your best friend doesn’t mean you’re completely immune. He’s handsome and you’d be dumb to deny that because, well, you have eyes. Currently, he looks even better from this angle. His hair’s tousled as neat as those chestnut curls will allow and dimples seem more prominent. Deep, inviting indents. The black, backwards hat only adds to the contrast of those evergreen eyes. Your favorite shade of green. A sliver of metal trapped between perfect teeth as he cocks his head. He chuckles, squeezing you tighter, “That’s fucked up.”

Pulling back, you shrug, “You’re the one who plays with them all day.”

His tongue clicks, cheeks hollowing, “Baseball, I play baseball.”

You dismiss him with a wave, walking into the common room. “Whatever helps you hit balls with your bat, Ball boy.”

“Better watch that pretty mouth of yours,” He warns in a low tone, so low that everything tingles. Reaching into his hoodie, he pulls out a bag of weed before plopping on the couch, “because I don’t share with bad girls.”

“Watching Star Wars high?” You grin as he nods. “Man of my dreams.”

Harry smirks, all boyish and full dimples, “Don’t tease.”

After pressing play and settling into the couch, you glance over at him just as the credits begin to roll. He’s lighting a joint, brows set in concentration, pink lips puckered around the paper inhaling slowly before passing it to you.

The next forty minutes fly by in the best, blissfully buzzed way. Time doesn’t have an exact science. We’re happy and having a good time. All the anger from earlier dissipated from you and Harry just being together. His nose found its way under your jaw, right next to your pulse point, some time after fifteen or so minutes. He’s always been affectionate when buzzed but holy fuck, was he toning it down before. You don’t know what changed but his hands haven’t left your waist and he keeps hugging closer to your chest with little sighs and hums of contentment. He smells so fucking good like peppermint, fresh laundry, and smoke.

Your breathing is slow and steady. Completely wrapped in him. Fingers twisting the curls at the nape of his neck until your fingertips tingle to touch him elsewhere. You don’t allow them to go lower than his throat, feeling how harsh each swallow was each time you’d get below the hinge of his jaw. He hums against your neck, nuzzling deeper into the column dangerously like he can’t get enough, “Feeling better?”

“Yes.” You breathe as he hugs tighter, not stopping your feather-like movement through his soft curls. “You?”

“Yeah, that feels good.” His words come out sleepy and deep and gravelly. “Your t-touch always feels good.” Warm evergreen holds all your attention as he kisses your cheek, “Thank you for being here with me. You make everything better, always have.”

Your face tilts, noses inches apart, and whisper. “You make everything better for me too.”

Harry’s the type of man that goes from beautiful to devastating with a change of facial expression. Your hazy brain can’t stop taking him in for some reason. It’s involuntary. That beautiful, sculpted face is hidden at nightfall but you allow yourself to appreciate how much time someone put into crafting him. It’s like you spent the last fifteen years with blinders on and can finally see.

Sage burns into evergreen as his lips roll a few times like he’s trying to come up with a safe response. The irrational part of my brain wants to feel his mouth on you again so bad that you almost crave him. Your lips part at the same time waiting for the other to make a move or do something drastic. Three heartbeats of your mouths seconds apart. Three heartbeats in your own hazy, happy world. His nose nudges yours once before dropping back to your throat. His arms wrapped around you tighter and your breathing synced again. Instead of calm and steady, now it’s erratic and fast.

Fuck, you have to be high, right? Best friends don’t look at each other like this. Especially you guys.

He leans closer, left hand planted on your thigh as we just stare at each other. Almost like he feels it too. Your fingertips ache to touch the stubble dusting his jawline so bad they tingle but you can’t seem to move. Completely lost in the hypnotic desire clouding the calm green of his irises.

Not wanting to put pressure on Harry to make the first move, you close the distance. Not sure why you did that but your mouths part at the same time. His in surprise and yours in want, yet in perfect sync. Pressing your lips to his, he immediately kisses back, cupping your jaw. One second everything’s moving slowly and the next, he’s lifting his shirt over your head. Touching every inch of exposed skin like he can’t get enough. His fingers hook into the waistband of your shorts as yours find his jeans. The kiss breaks as he leans back just enough to look at you. You’re looking at each other in silence but it’s so fucking loud.

“We should-” He swallows harshly, columns of his throat tense, “Don’t wanna finally have you if you’ll regret-”

“Won’t ever regret you, H,” Your voice is hushed yet full of so much want and sincerity. “Don’t stop, we’re okay.”

“Yeah?” He breathes out in relief pressing another kiss to your lips that sends trace currents through your body full force. Finally giving into the sweetest temptation you’ve ever tasted. Forbidden and delicious. This was like an avalanche of feelings and lust in motion, couldn’t stop the cascade if you tried. The aftermath would eventually come but everything would be okay. It had to be.

“Yeah, just friends,” Your lips move with his again but lazier, a slow pace that makes everything come to life. “This doesn’t change anything.”

You lied because this meant everything but you can’t stop.

He blinks like he can see right through your bullshit.

You blink back hoping he doesn’t.

“Just friends.” He repeats only the first half of your lie between kisses, pressing your body further into the couch with his hips.

The words come out breathless.

The words come out easily.

The words come out in cool peppermint.

He starts to drag your shorts off at the same pace the kiss and you lift a little to help. Being this vulnerable, letting the other fully see the other is something you can’t put into words. Your eyes rake his body as his lustful, dark gaze mirrors yours. There aren’t enough fucking words to describe how beautiful he is. Taking in every single detail from his tattoos to his cock pressed between your open thighs. The desperation; everything fucking aches for him. He leans forward, lips parting, eyes darkening by the minute, leaving open-mouth kisses along your jaw until they meet your mouth. The warm metal of his tongue ring claiming every inch of your mouth. He tasted like charged temptation in the best way, like something you didn’t know you craved until now.

Harry whimpers as your legs wrap around his waist. His cock throbs between your thighs and he groans against your lips. The sound vibrating with need; so fucking desperate. Strong hands grip your ass as the kiss deepens. He’s kissing you like you’re oxygen and he’s hungry for air. Almost like he can’t breathe without tasting you. Without having you like this. Staggered, harsh breaths hit the left side of your as his lips descended. Sucking and biting gently at your throat until they reach your chest and wrap around your nipple piercings. Metal clanking salaciously as his tongue swirls, toying with each little bar. His cock throbs again and your head falls back into the throw pillows with a loud moan. The arrogant smirk against your already heated skin only sends fire dancing.

Crackling and humming with each touch. They say fire needs oxygen to grow and Harry was yours. Always has been, he ignites all your fires.

Pulling back slightly, salacious evergreen meets thunderous oceans as he speaks, “So fucking pretty.” His words come out as a rasp, full of raw desperation. “Wanna taste you so fucking bad.” Kisses pepper your face, “Wanna make you feel so good, please? ”

“Y-yes,” You breathe, unable to finish the sentence as his kiss-bruised lips meet yours again and again, his fingers digging into the sensitive skin of your already open thighs, while yours run through his soft curls. Tangling and twisting as your lips move hungrily, desperately. Your teeth trap his tongue ring gently tasting and the sound that escapes his throat is feral. His body pushes against yours as you devour each other. Urgent, hungry, and like you might run out of time or change your mind. Hot, open-mouth kisses descend from your lips to your jaw then stop at the base of your throat.

“Fuck,” The word’s rushed, nearly a pant, as he pulls his sweatshirt over his head. The view of his gorgeous, toned body sends a shiver down your spine. The butterfly on his chest fluttered with each rapid breath. His abs jutting and rippling like it took everything in him not to lose it right then and there. Rough yet gentle hands feather your ribs, gliding effortlessly until they pause at your hips, leaving trace currents branding me with each tortuous touch. The rings on his fingers dig into the sensitive flesh of your hips despite how gentle he’s being. A surprised gasp leaves my lips in a whimper as his grip tightens holding you into place. Your hips tilt, wanting to feel him and he groans, nostrils flaring like he’s in pain, “Want you so bad,” His nose runs against your jaw, “Not gonna last if you keep moving, Lil.”

“Sorry,” You breathe letting your head fall back as it swims with every effortless emotion you feel for him.

“Shh, you’re perfect, so fucking perfect, look at you.” He whispers, the gravelly tone of his voice sending vibrations between your thighs making you ache. A completely desperate ache for him that would be embarrassing if it was anyone but your Harry. Suddenly, he’s kissing you but lazily this time. His lips moved so painfully slow and tender against yours. Kissing like you have all the time in the world. As soon as you match his pace, he breaks the kiss sighing deeply against your parted lips. He studies your face, evergreen locked on blue, as he slowly drifts between your thighs. His hands follow him, traveling down your inked body with ease, until they lock around your upper legs.

“What’re you doing?” You ask breathlessly, trying to keep up with his pace. He ignores you, placing drawn-out kisses trailing from your left hip to inner thigh. Soft moans leave your parted lips each and every time his mouth touches your skin. His kisses are getting closer and closer, nipping and sucking, teasing and torturing. It’s too fucking much. “Harry-”

“Need something, Lil?” He sucks harder on your hip, leaving a purplish bruise on porcelain skin, tilting his head up to meet your gaze with a lazy smirk. So effortlessly sexy.

“Please-” Desperateness clings to the word as your head falls back, unable to handle seeing him between your legs.

“Please what?” Harry smirks against heated skin as your hips move forward, “Use your words, pretty girl.”

“I want-” The sentence pauses at the tip of your tongue. No one’s ever asked what you wanted before. “I’ve never-” Your brows push together trying to find the right word but he reaches up, fingers smoothing the line between them like he understands.

“It’s okay,” He runs the flat of his tongue against your clit and your knees almost push together from pleasure, the round of his tongue ring hitting perfectly. Like he knows exactly what you need. Burning evergreen disappears into the back of his head as he moans against you, fingernails digging into your skin. “Taste so fucking good, Lil. Knew you would, so fucking sweet.”

“Fuck,” The whimper that comes out of you is pathetic as he lifts your leg, draping your right knee over his shoulder, tongue circling with no mercy. Flicking and sucking and teasing as he changes pace. Your head falls back feeling his piercing tease your entrance with each flick of his perfect tongue. Your fingers laced into his wet curls, tugging as he pulled back, eyes meeting yours. Bringing his left middle and ring fingers to your lips, manually parts them until his fingers push past your bottom teeth. The cold metal of his rings hits your warm mouth. Evergreen dances darkly as they glide across your tongue until you gag around them. He exhales roughly, head cocking, “Mmm, suck. Such a good girl for me, yeah?”

Your lips wrap around his fingers as your eyes lock. He moves them in and out a few times before withdrawing. Never breaking eye contact, pink lips puckering around my clit as his fingers tease your entrance. He watches you intensely, so fucking intensely as his fingers match the pace of his tongue. Your eyes flutter in pure fucking bliss as your grip on his hair returns. Pulling and tugging, making him groan so deeply, “Lil.”

Your name came out of his mouth with the same electricity that courses through your veins whenever he’s around. Hot, entrancing, unfuckingdeniable, and your undoing. White, hot pleasure hits so hard that you try to close your legs but his hands wrap around your thighs, keeping them open, easing you through it. Your breathing evens out as Harry watches you between your open thighs. His head tilted upward, lips parted in amazement, evergreen bouncing around your face like he’s committing every muscle movement to memory.

“For fucks sake.” He exhales, blinking in complete astonishment.

“Hmm?” The word comes out lazily, so fucking easy like your smile.

He hovers, face inches from yours, hazy eyes blazing with lust. The end of his cross necklace bounces off your bottom lip a few times. “So pretty when you cum, Angel.”

Fuck, in one swift movement, you push his chest backward completely straddling him as his back hits the couch. Long, ring-clad fingers grip your jaw as he presses his lips to yours, kissing slowly, tongues tangling lazily. He tastes like you and it makes your head spin. His fingers tangle into your hair, blond waves fall, as he collects them wrapping the strands around his wrist. Breaking the kiss, your hands glide across his skin, feeling every harsh breath and ridge before settling between his legs. Every flutter of his butterfly as he breathes, how his abs constrict with each breath like he wants you so badly that it’s painful, and the vein resting next to the perfect v-line of his left hip. Taking a deep breath, your head tilts, meeting his hungry, beautiful gaze as your lips wrap around his head.

He lets out a loud moan, abs jutting, as your tongue twirls and teases. His head lolls back, lips parting while the moans come out so fucking feral; desperate. The grip on your hair loosens as you take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks with each suck. Honey curls fall you around like a curtain as he cups the back of your head, pushing you to take him deeper, never breaking eye contact. You almost wanna shut yours seeing how much adoration and attention and lust swims in his pretty irises. He starts moving his hips slowly, testing, and relaxing your jaw. His jaw tightens with each thrust, moaning so fucking loud, lips puckering around a needy exhale, “I-fuck-I’m not gonna last.”

Flattening your tongue, a hum in appreciation and that makes him break. The soft green of his eyes darkened as control slips with each thrust. “God, look at how pretty you look wrapped around my cock.” He groans even louder and you gag around him. His hips slow, “You can take it, just like that, so fucking good.”

Your cheeks hollow as his movements grow more frantic. More fucking desperate. Twirling your tongue, he pulls out, cupping your jaw again as he cums. Painting your chest in the most filthy way. Head tilted back, eyes shut, pumping his cock as he whimpers. Blush spreads up his throat, neck vein popping in the sexiest way, and perfect lips parted in pure ecstasy; pure bliss. He’s the most devastating man you’ve ever seen. The minute your gazes meet, your breathing halts. So many emotions battle to come to the surface as lush forests meet raging oceans. The push and pull that is us. This is a moment where you just stare at each other in understanding. Letting your eyes say what you’re afraid to admit out loud.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” Harry’s voice is gentle and soothing while his fingers trace your jaw before disappearing. You count his footsteps but don’t respond. The weight of what happened crashed into you like a freight train. Your breathing accelerates instead of steading as everything plays out. You don’t want to lose him when this doesn’t work out. The thought comes quickly and like a bucket of ice water. Panic setting in because you can’t lose him. You can’t lose him over one night of weakness. Shit, the uncertainty feels heavy on your chest, heavier than it should because there’s no one you trust more. He’s your best friend.

“Lil?” Hesitantly, your eyes snap to your favorite shade of green. Allowing them to travel his peaceful features, illuminated by the soft glow of the moon. Everything about him is relaxed and unguarded as he starts cleaning you up with a warm washcloth. The light stubble on his sharp jaw to pink parted lips to the freckles on the bridge of his nose that you wouldn’t see unless you were close enough. Your fingertips ache to trace the path, feel each little freckle and plane of his face, until they’re touching his pink lips. Sometimes, you wish memories worked like photographs or something so you could accurately remember how being in his arms feels. How finally being his feels until unrelenting reality hits. You’re not his, Grace is, and that hurts worse than you thought. His lips tip into a left-sided smile, “There she is.”

“Here I am,” You smile back, cheekbone gently compressed by his long fingers.

Dark curls sticking up in different directions, evergreen eyes following every detail of your face, a red hue dusting across his cheeks, and his once parted lips tugging into a sleepy smirk, “You still with me, Lil?”

“Always.” The word came out fast because you were with him. Maybe too with him. “Gonna get dressed real quick.” A giggle escapes your lips, “Don’t have the money for Ellie’s therapy bill if she walks in.”

“Fuck,” He chuckles, running a hand through long curls, “She’d probably ask to join.”

Your phone buzzes two times and something inside you freezes. You know it’s Rylan, no one else but him and Harry text you this late. The playful expression on Harry’s face slowly drains into something that resembles pain as he hands it to me. The sudden change makes your stomach turn in the worst way.

From: Ry (2:30 am)

Sorry about tonight.

From: Ry (2:31 am)

Can’t lose you over a stupid argument, Lil. I know you and Styles are just friends and you wouldn’t touch him. Sorry for being a jealous prick.

That stomach-sinking guilt comes back full force and causes your mouth to flood with saliva. You pull the Nirvana shirt over your head and turn to explain but he’s already looking at the wall. His jaw tense, so tense that the hinges are bulging, but expression is stoic. He swallows, the columns in his throat tense then relax showing just how hard the salvia was to get down. You linger on his side profile for a second, appreciating the beautiful yet masculine planes of his face, before clearing your throat. He blinks a few times before turning slowly to meet your eyes. The words rush out of your mouth, “Harry-”

Playful evergreen darkened to forest green, “I better go.”

You jump to your feet, following behind him quickly, desperate to explain. His back to you, broad shoulders sagging, as he works to unlatch your window. The glass opens with a thud and you expect him to leave but he doesn’t. Ring-clad fingers grasp the ledge, knuckles blanch, as he just breathes. You count to fifteen waiting for him to look at you but he doesn’t. 240 long, excruciating seconds pass. Exhaling harshly, his voice is hoarse, “We need to tal-“

“Friends?” You blurt, not letting him finish. Needing to know you’re okay, eyes volleying between him and the notification on your phone.

He pauses, hand resting on the windowsill, so much pain in those evergreen eyes you love so much. There he was, always taking care of you. Even if it means hurting him.

“Yeah, Lil.”

Your attention stays on the window as he slips out without giving you a chance to respond. Everything smells like him, a mouthwatering mixture of fresh laundry, peppermint, and something earthy like the wind. Even your skin has traces of him that you don’t think you’d be able to wash off. The memory of tonight permanently embedded into you and there is no denying it. How his mouth felt, his hands on you, the sound of his raspy voice slowly ruining you for anyone else.

What the fuck did you just do?

625 notes · View notes

bottlesofrouge · 2 months

Text

on one condition.

harry styles x original character

part five.

word count: 12.6K

warnings: talks of a past physically abusive relationship, smut (finaalllyyy!!!), nsfr!

27 JULY 2018

harry wakes up to lynn sitting on the arm of the couch. her fingers dance along his arm as his name falls from her lips in quiet whispers. it’s still dark outside, and he rubs the sleep out of his eyes, struggling to remember just exactly where he is.

silas and lynn had gone into the bedroom shortly after dinner. he wasn’t really sure why he was expecting silas to take the couch, but when the click of the lock echoed through the quiet condo, harry knew that he was stuck with the short end of the stick.

there were no goodnights said and no sleepy smiles from lynn. harry sat in the dark for what felt like hours, listening to the muffled laughter coming from behind the bedroom door while he tried to swallow down the ugly, burning jealousy that came bubbling up in his throat.

“harry,” she whispers again. her touch moves from his arms to his hair. “are you awake?”

“yeah,” he hums. “what’s going on? are you okay?”

“i can’t fall asleep,” she says. “not when i don’t know if you’re alright.”

“why wouldn’t i be alright?” he can barely make out anything in the dark. the only source of light was the dim glow of the moon coming in through an uncovered window. it doesn’t do much, but it illuminates her face enough for him to see the way it’s etched with worry.

“the same reason i can’t sleep unless all of the doors are locked,” she doesn’t elaborate any further, and harry’s not really sure what she means by that. “i’m sorry for waking you. couldn’t tell if you were breathing.”

“do you wanna lay out here with me?” she only blinks at him. “you don’t have to, but i think you’d be able to feel if i was breathing or not.”

“are you sure?”

“c’mere,” he presses himself further into the couch, and lifts the blanket for her to slide under. harry’s shocked a little when she actually does.

it’s uncomfortable at first. he lays there like a board, arms straight down at his sides until lynn reaches behind for his hand. he thinks she’s giving him the key to the front door, but instead she presses his palm to her stomach just like he had done the night before.

it really was a complete accident. harry was so embarrassed to open his eyes and find himself wrapped around her the way he was. lynn was still sleeping when he woke up. she never mentioned it, and he had hoped that maybe she never noticed. he could not have been more wrong.

she doesn’t say anything when she does it, so instead of overthinking the situation and letting it keep him up until the sun rises, he leans into it. harry molds his body to lynn’s, letting his fingers stretch across her tummy just like she wanted them to. their legs are crossed at the ankles, and harry can’t help it when he lets his lips press right where her neck meets her shoulder. he half expects her to push him away, but she only sighs, falling asleep mere seconds later.

✮✮✮

“good morning, cuddle bugs,” harry doesn’t wake up again until silas is practically whisper singing right into his ear. the man’s standing over the two of them, a mug of coffee in each hand and a wide grin on his face.

when harry blinks enough to get the sleep out of his eyes, he sees that lynn’s got her cheek squished against his chest and her arm thrown around his torso. both of her legs are in between his and she had stolen their previously shared blanket and selfishly wrapped herself up in it. “were my cuddles not good enough for you, lynn?”

“oh my god, shut up, silas,” lynn groans, letting herself lean into harry even more. “and close the curtains while you’re up. m’so tired.”

silas does as he’s told before coming back over to harry to hand him one of the mugs he was holding. he sits down in the recliner next to them without saying a word, and turns on some local news station for the two to watch.

the volume’s on low, and silas is too focused on whatever stories that are running that he doesn’t try to engage in any conversation. he is so incredibly thankful for it, too. he wasn’t exactly sure what the other had to say about walking out of the bedroom to find his best friend wrapped around him. he wasn’t sure what lynn has told silas about them, but she surely had to have mentioned the fact that he has been treating her so terribly for the last two months.

harry’s free hand absentmindedly travels to lynn’s hair, fingers gently scratching her scalp as quiet, appreciative hums leave her mouth. he can’t really tell if she’s just in and out of sleep or if she’s fully awake, but he doesn’t care as long as he got lynn like this. he’d be stupid not to wrap himself up in everything that she was willing to give him. after all, it’d all go away as soon as they got back to new york.

part of him couldn’t wait to get home, even though he knew that going home meant he would have to face his parents. he also knew that it meant he would be getting back to his new routine. ever since he stopped sharing his days with an entire bottle of hard liquor, waking up has never felt so good.

he was productive. incredibly productive, actually. during the first week, he got around to turning his office into a small art studio. harry had purchased easels and canvases and nearly an entire display of oil paints. of course he put the transactions on john’s credit card. he thought of it as reparations for his shitty childhood, but if his dad asked, he would say it was a parting gift for his frat.

the other part of him wanted to be anywhere but home because home meant no more waking up to lynn and no more soft kisses and warm touches. home meant morning coffee alone and silence so loud that if he closed his eyes hard enough, he would swear he could hear it screaming.

you’re alone. you’re alone. you’re alone. you’re alone.

and honestly, the first few days wouldn’t be too bad. harry thinks he’d use the time to clear his head. the forced proximity had him thinking (and feeling) so many confusing things when it came to lynn. he knew that once they were apart for a little while, they’d all go away. maybe the two would even go back to hating each other.

they’d see each other once a week, maybe twice if they were feeling crazy, and harry would only be brutally reminded of just how alone he actually was. the words would echo in his head like they always did. just like the ticking of a clock.

you’re alone. you’re alone. you’re alone. you’re alone.

maybe it’s his fault for giving himself away so easily. there are so many people who know absolutely nothing about him except for what gets him going in bed, and normally, that fact didn’t bother him one bit. he likes feeling good and making other people feel good, and he loves the fact that he can participate in both of those activities with no strings attached.

however, on the rare days like today, the mere thought of it makes harry want to scratch the skin off his body and start fresh. he wants to be someone new. someone who is loved, and someone that people actually want to know.

and really, that’s where this whole thing stems from. the constant craving for something that is so unattainable for him. he just wants to be known.

harry itches for the day that someone knows just how much he loves ballet and theater. they’ll know he spent the first three years of high school dedicating his life to the drama club, spending afternoon after afternoon designing and painting sets. those long afternoons would soon turn into rehearsing lines in the passenger seat of oliver’s car, nothing but a flashlight on one of their phones illuminating the words on their scripts.

they’ll know he stopped because of how his dad felt about it. they’ll learn all about his senior year football stint, and maybe he’d also be inclined to tell them that he did it just to please him, but even then, john never went to a single game.

“harry,” silas’s leaning forward to nudge harry with his hand. “did you hear me?”

“no,” he admits. “what did you say?”

“i asked if you were hungry. we’re supposed to meet everyone for breakfast in ten.”

“i’m okay,” harry hums. his eyes fall to lynn who’s now created a small wet spot on his shirt with her drool. “you go. she’s been having a hard time sleeping.”

“she has for years,” silas responds. harry isn’t sure if he’s just stating a fact or if he’s trying to make sure he’s aware that he knows lynn in ways that harry never will. “i’ve never seen her out like this though. it’s weird.”

when silas decides to take harry up on his offer, he stands up, stretches, and then puts his shoes on before walking out of the door. it slams a little bit behind him, and lynn jolts at the sound. her head flies up, and she’s looking at harry with wide eyes and parted lips.

“just silas, honey,” his knuckles drag across the highest point of her cheek. “you can go back to sleep for a bit.”

✮✮✮

silas: it’s amelia day!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

silas: you better be awake when i get back

silas: first round is on you btw consider it your apology for having to look at you and harry all morning #YUCK

lynn shuts her phone off and peers up at harry to make sure he wasn’t reading over her shoulder. (that would be so humiliating.) she finds him fast asleep underneath her. his head is tilted back, resting on a pillow that was propped up on the arm of the couch. his lips are parted, and she thinks that if she’s quiet enough she could hear tiny snores fall from them. god, he is so cute.

“harry,” she gently shakes him, and when he opens his eyes and blinks a few long blinks like he’s trying to gather his surroundings, she can’t help but laugh. “good morning, sunshine.”

“what time is it?” he rasps out around a yawn.

“nearly noon.” lynn sits up so harry can stretch and sit up properly. “it’s amelia day, so we have to leave soon. get ready, and i’ll make you something to eat. my treat for sharing this uncomfortable thing with me all night.”

lynn only makes them a plate of leftovers that consists of stuff she found in various take out boxes in the refrigerator. it wasn’t anything crazy; yet, it takes nearly fifteen minutes before she has it all set out on the breakfast bar. she shouldn't be blamed though. it’s not her fault that she couldn’t stop thinking about last night.

it wasn’t until silas was knocked out next to her that she realized harry was out in the living room all alone. she didn’t mean to exclude him. it kind of just happened, and she felt so guilty for it. she couldn’t stop wondering just how upset harry would be with her in the morning, and soon after, all of the overthinking turned into wondering if harry was okay.

honestly, she knew deep down there was no reason for him not to be, but that didn’t stop her from going out and checking. that’s all she meant to do, really. she planned on making sure he was alive and well and then she would climb back into bed with silas, but when he made room for her on the couch, lynn couldn’t say no.

she missed sleeping next to him.

it was stupid. they had only been on good terms for a few days, but lynn couldn’t imagine ever falling asleep without him pressed against her again. she thought that maybe it was just the simple fact that she was next to someone that had her sleeping so well, but no. it was harry.

silas has probably spent hundreds of hours helping her fall asleep. nearly every time he’s in town, he sits next to her in bed and runs his fingers through her hair until she’s napping. lynn really did appreciate it so much. she knew she would never get those precious naps in without him, but that was just it. they were always a quick little nap, never lasting more than an hour.

with harry, it was so different. all he had to do was be in the same room as her and she’d be out for hours. it was silly, and all in her mind. of course she knew that, it’s just… she doesn’t really want it to end.

harry doesn’t talk until the two of them are sharing an uber to the town square. he’s exhausted. lynn knows that, and she feels so shitty for having him take the couch. he was doing her a favor being there. the least she could do was give him the bed.

“it’s amelia’s birthday?” his voice is quiet when he asks, like the uber driver hearing would give away the faux relationship.

“no,” she laughs a little, not because of him, but because of what amelia day actually is. “silas pays amelia to watch jane while the adults go out for a few drinks.”

“is it the same day every year?”

lynn shakes her head, “just whenever silas feels like it. it’s usually just the two of us, and he convinces her when he thinks i’ve burnt myself out watching them.”

harry only hums and looks out the window.

lynn sits at the bar, nursing her third dirty martini as she watches silas and harry play a game of darts. silas was honestly great at the game. never once has he let lynn win. however, when harry threw his first dart, she realized that today might be the day her dreams of silas losing come true.

she’s been dreaming of the day ever since she had played against silas for the first time at a bar in her college town. he was visiting her for spring break. nearly the entire school had gone further south to a beach, so they pretty much had the bar to themselves. they played forty seven games that week, and lynn had only been close to winning once.

so, she offers to buy harry a shot if he wins, and when he says he’d rather have a kiss, she says he can have that, too.

she watches as harry goes to throw his dart. he closes one of his eyes and the tip of his tongue sticks out a little at the corner of his mouth every time he brings his hand up to aim. normally, she would’ve poked a little fun because he looked crazy, but she was a couple drinks in and she couldn’t help but find everything harry did to be at least a little bit attractive.

harry throws the winning dart, and lynn already has a shot of don julio waiting for him. she holds the little glass in between her fingers and the lime wedge in between her lips as she moves over to the two guys. a little pool of anxiety fills her stomach when she thinks about what exactly she’s doing. the lime placement seemed like a good idea after she had finished her third drink, but when she sees silas’s face, she thinks that maybe she was wrong.

the worry is only there for a second because harry tips the shot back, and then presses his mouth to hers and takes the wedge in between his teeth. the whole thing has her skin burning all the way from her toes up to her ears, but she doesn’t have time to be embarrassed about it because as soon as he’s done, he’s kissing her.

their kisses are messy and wet, and lynn can taste the lime sitting on his lips and the tequila coating his mouth. his mouth is practically devouring hers in a way that has her chest aching and her fingertips tingling. there’s no way that the vodka and olive juice she had been drinking tasted as good as he’s making it seem.

harry pulls away when silas clears his throat and lynn can’t even work up enough nerve to look over at him. the blush on her cheeks. her heart skipping beats in her chest. the way she feels so giddy. god, it was like she was a teenager again.

“i think we should get another drink before we head back,” silas breaks the silence first.

harry agrees and the two of them follow silas over to the bar. harry’s got his arm around lynn’s back, and his hand rests on her waist. he orders his drink and her dirty martini while she pretends not to feel the way his thumb is sliding against the small sliver of skin poking out between her top and skirt.

lynn sits on a bar stool next to kathleen when her fourth dirty martini is placed in front of her. harry keeps his arm draped around the back of her chair, chatting to silas about their last game. silas claims harry cheated, but harry insists that silas is just a sore loser.

“are you three enjoying your vacation,” lynn hears her dad’s voice from down the bar, and makes no move to respond. instead, she brings her glass up to her lips and takes a big sip.

“i am,” harry turns his attention to the older man, offering him a small smile. “thank you for having me. i really appreciate it.”

“it’s the least i can do since you’ve been putting up with my daughter. she can be a lot to handle sometimes.”

her dad laughs, and lynn can’t help the rage that’s bubbling up in her chest. putting up with my daughter? how would he know what putting up with lynn was like? peter was only around for half of her life, and even then, they’ve only shared a few hundred words with each other, if that. the man barely fucking knew her.

“it’s quite the opposite,” she feels harry moving his hand from the chair to wrap around her shoulder and pull her into his chest. “really, lynn puts up with me.”

“good to know, but i was referring to jane,” he brings his bottle to his lips. “she has so much energy, and at my age…”

lynn doesn’t really care what else her father has to say, so she turns her attention to the bartender and orders herself one more. it would probably end up being a mistake because she could already feel her head going all fuzzy. (and that was obvious a drink ago when she made out with harry in the back corner of the bar.) but, she felt like she needed it in order to stomach being around her parents for a second longer.

“you’re sure you need another?” kathleen’s speaking to her. “don’t want to have a repeat of the last time where you didn’t even make it to dinner.”

lynn decides to pretend like she didn’t hear, and insteads thanks the bartender when he slides the glass in front of her. she didn’t come to dinner the night her mother is referring to because of something more than a little too much to drink, and she thinks that if she lets herself think about it for a minute longer, she’d start crying so hard that she might end up coughing up a lung.

aunt cecilia moves from the other side of her father to sit next to silas. she strikes up a conversation with the two boys, and lynn can’t make the buzzing in her brain quiet down enough to focus on what they’re saying. it is so unfair that being around her mother has the ability to ruin what was supposed to be a fun day with her friends.

lynn gets why silas invited her parents. really, she does. just because they treated her so poorly, doesn’t mean they treated everyone else the same. that was obvious when silas came home from his freshman year of college to all of his stuff sitting on the front lawn of his parents’ house. peter and kathy had moved every discarded item of his into the guest room within the day, and silas claimed it as his own until he moved out for good two years later.

“y’alright, honey?” harry’s voice is so low and breathy. it tickles her ear enough to make her laugh, and he offers her a warm smile at the sound. “there we go.”

his lips tenderly press against her forehead and then he’s leaning back to look at her, worry deep in his eyes. she loves when harry’s soft like this, even if she can see silas rolling his eyes at the two of them in her peripheral.

“i miss your last boyfriend,” lynn’s brought out of her trance by kathleen’s voice. “he never touched you like this in front of us. it’s just disrespectful.”

lynn thinks that she’s misheard her mom at first, but when harry’s hands fall from her, she knows he’s heard it, too. silas and aunt cece are deep in conversation, missing what kathleen had just said, and harry’s looking at her with a frown on his lips. his eyes are pleading with hers, like he’s trying to apologize for something that isn’t even his fault.

“i’m sorry, ms. kathy. i didn’t eve-”

“yeah, well,” lynn clears her throat. “jaxson used to hit me when we weren’t in front of you guys.”

“what?”

she knows that she shouldn’t have said it, especially not here. lynn’s just so upset and angry and sad, and all she wanted to do was make kathleen feel the way she has been making her feel since the day she was born. like a complete and utter failure.

“i couldn’t make it to dinner last time because my mouth was bleeding so bad,” her voice is quiet, yet her confession draws the attention from the rest of the group. “not because of one too many drinks.”

it was definitely the five dirty martinis that had her spilling the secret she’s held on to the tightest, but it’s out now and so were the tears that came flooding from her eyes.

“why didn’t you tell us?” her mom has tears of her own on her cheeks, and it only makes lynn roll her eyes. kathleen never really cared about her, and she wasn’t about to start letting her now.

“don’t you see how you treat me? of course i didn’t come to you. nothing i ever do is worth a second of your time,” lynn feels so incredibly vulnerable as she speaks. she half expects kathleen to tell her to grow up, and the other half expects her to get on her hands and knees and apologize profusely for being such a shit mother.

she does neither. instead her eyes fall on silas and aunt cece, a look of realization spreading across her face. “you two knew.”

when lynn showed up on her aunts’ doorstep after a particularly rough fight with her ex, aunt cece helped put her back together again and let her move in for a few months. they hid it from peter and kathleen, per lynn’s request, and when jane was born, she went home. the three of them never really spoke about it, but lynn thinks she wouldn’t be standing here right now if it wasn’t for aunt cece and aunt rosie.

“this is exactly what i fucking mean,” she stands up from her stool, using harry to steady herself, and then she begs him to please, please take her back to the condo.

and he does. harry doesn’t say anything the entire uber ride back. instead, he holds her hand in his lap and wipes under her nose with the sleeve of his shirt when he’s had enough of her loud sniffing.

“i could’ve found a tissue,” her voice is so scratchy it hurts when she speaks.

“but you didn’t,” harry counters. “‘was kind of grossing me out if i’m being honest.”

“heeeeey,” her hands gently shove his shoulders as she laughs under her breath. it’s quiet for a second, and she can’t seem to tear her eyes away from his. it’s like she can feel the pity from his eyes seeping into her own, and it makes her a little sad. “please don’t look at me like that.”

harry looks away and clears his throat, and lynn feels so incredibly guilty for even saying anything, “i don’t like when people pity me. i didn’t mean…”

“i know you didn’t mean to tell me, but knowing now helps me understand you better.” he’s running his forefinger along the creases in her palm. “and i don’t mean to make you feel like i pity you. i just… you didn’t deserve to go through that.”

“okay,” she offers him a warm smile. “i was going to tell you, but i was nervous that i’d scare you away.”

“you could never scare me away.”

“why’s that? am i your only friend?” lynn only means it in a teasing way, but the way harry’s smile drops says that she’s hit the nail on the head.

“yeah,” his face draws together when he speaks. “um, i don’t know. there’s not really anyone besides you. sorry if that’s weird or makes you uncomfortable. i’m not the best at making friends.”

“s’not weird. i was only joking, harry. i didn’t mean-”

“you don’t have to apologize,” his eyes fall to his lap, and then he looks back up to her. “that’s not why you can’t scare me away. i just… i like having you around, lynn. i don’t want that to change once we go home.”

his words make her cheeks warm, “it won’t. i like having you around, too.” and when that doesn’t feel like enough, “i’m really glad you came, harry.”

29 JULY 2018

when harry wakes up, the bed is empty and the condo is quiet. there’s no echoes of an overworked coffee pot and no hushed whispers bouncing off the walls. his phone reads 11:53am, and there is nothing but a singular text from lynn sitting in his notification center.

getting breakfast with si & then going to the beach. join us when you’re awake :)

harry gets out of bed and heads for the shower to wash the sleep off of his face (and also the sweat off of his body). he’s spent the last two nights wrapped up with lynn in the bed while silas took the couch. the girl loved her blankets, and being next to her sometimes made him feel like he was next to a furnace.

he decides against joining the two when he’s on his second lather of shampoo. after lynn had talked about her last relationship at the bar, the three have practically been conjoined at the hip doing pretty much everything together. even at the family dinners, they sat at the end of the table next to jane and amelia to keep kathleen, or anyone else, from bringing it up.

as soon as harry heard what lynn said, he wanted to throw up. he felt sick the entire uber drive back, and even worse when they sat on the couch next to one another and she told him about the time she had brought him here. lynn was so incredibly kind, and the thought of anyone hurting her was just so devastating.

but, he did as she asked, and tried acting like looking at her didn’t make his chest feel like it was caving in. (because it did.) instead, he offered her kisses and soft touches every time the thoughts got to be a little too much. lynn deserved to feel loved and appreciated, and he was going to make sure she never forgot that.

harry: i think i’ll spend some time with your sisters. have fun with silas

her response comes through almost immediately.

lynn: they’d loooove that!!! couldn’t stop talking about you at breakfast

lynn: i’ll miss you today :(

the grin that spreads across harry’s face when he reads the message is embarrassing. he never really understood what people meant when they said ‘giggling and kicking my feet’, but when he catches his reflection in the mirror, he gets it.

jane and amelia are waiting for him on the front porch of their condo, and as soon as he’s in sight, the little girl runs to him like she’s an olympian sprinter. she giggles as she does, and harry soaks up every last one because he knows there will be a time when he is nothing but a distant memory for her.

the three of them walk to an ice cream parlor that harry has been dying to go to since the first day they arrived. the outside was painted a bright pink and had mismatched patio furniture sitting out in front of it. he always found these ice cream shops to be the best, and preferred them over the lousy chains.

harry orders his usual mint chip and jane her chocolate chip, and then he tells amelia to get whatever she wants. it was his treat today, even though the two girls were the ones to bring up the idea to go. the older sister decides on a plain strawberry shake, and once it’s all paid, they sit at one of the tables outside.

“don’t forget your napkin,” he reminds jane. “i don’t want to return you all covered in sugar.”

the little girl laughs, and wipes awaythe river of melted vanilla ice cream flowing down her chin, “s’okay. mom says it’s bath night anyway.”

harry listens as jane then goes into a play by play of her day. if one singular detail was wrong, she’d have to pause, reset the scene, and then she could continue. it starts with her saying she chose a red shirt to wear, but actually it was more orange now that she’s thinking about it. then, it’s what she ate for breakfast. jane realizes midway through that she had actually eaten four apple slices instead of the five she said previously because silas had taken one from her plate. the whole thing is painful, but harry sits through every second of it with a smile on his face.

“you alright, amelia?” harry asks once jane has quieted down and turned her attention back to her ice cream. “you’ve been quiet.”

“does lynn ever talk about her last boyfriend?"

he swallows. "yeah. she talks about him sometimes. why?”

“he was mean to me,” amelia states. “and i thought you’d be the same.”

“melia, i would never-”

“i know. i know,” amelia’s quick to cut him off. “that was obvious when jane hit you with that ball.”

jane’s shoulders drop at her sister’s words, “i’m still very sorry, harry.”

“i know you are, janey,” his hand squeezes her little arm from across the table. “i already told you to stop worrying about.”

“i feel bad for being so rude to you,” amelia admits. “and for trying to get lynn to break up with you.”

“you what?”

“i’m sorry. i didn’t-” the girl’s stumbling over her words like she can’t get them out fast enough when harry interrupts her with a laugh. really, he doesn’t mean to, but the thought of amelia trying to end a relationship that wasn’t even real to begin had him giggling.

"no need to be sorry," he says. "if i saw my sister in a bad relationship, i'd probably act the exact same. probably even worse if i’m being honest.”

“a man who grew up with girls,” amelia nods her head slowly before sitting back in her chair with her arms crossed. “makes sense.”

“now, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“it’s a compliment! ugh, you’re so old.”

harry laughs at the girls in front of him, a feeling of genuine happiness washing over him. maybe he was planning too far ahead, but he can't help but think that he actually does want to be a dad.

“hurry up and finish your ice cream,” he says. “i think there’s a souvenir shop we can go to just a few stores up the street.”

the three don’t end up going back until dinner time. the two girls walk in front of him, each swinging their shopping bags at each other for no other reason than to be annoying. he didn’t really mean to spend a hundred dollars on the two, but he did. jane always looked up at him with big round eyes and he could never say no.

they had passed a boutique with a blue dress hanging in the window, and amelia made a comment about it matching the shade of lynn’s eyes. she was right. it was printed with this floral pattern and had ruffles at the sleeves. harry couldn’t stop thinking about just how pretty lynn would look in it, and that’s how he ended up with a bag of his own.

maybe it was pushing the boundaries of their friendship a little too far, but he really didn’t care. harry thinks it would be a crime for that dress to belong to anyone besides lynn.

aunt cece is the one who opens the door when jane knocks, and to his surprise, she invites him in to enjoy the dinner that she had prepared. he’s about to say no when she lets him know that lynn and silas had gone into town for an early dinner of their own before he had to go to the airport, so he changes his mind and joins the two aunts in the kitchen.

harry sits at the table while the two shared red wine out of a singular glass along with what seemed like a million kisses. rosie rested herself against cece’s back as she finished transferring the meal to serving dishes. she’d whisper things to the other in tones so quiet harry couldn’t make out the words, but each time aunt cece’s face would flush and she’d playfully push the other woman away.

he hopes he gets a love as pure as theirs when he’s older.

“what’s in the bag?” aunt rosie joins him at the table.

“it’s nothing really,” harry can feel his cheeks grow warm and he does his best to avoid the woman’s stare.

“oh come on, you’re blushing all the way to your neck. what is it? we’re very big on sex positivity, so-”

“oh my god. it’s a dress. a normal dress,” harry can’t listen to it a second longer. his finger pulls the collar of his shirt away from his neck. god, why was it so hot it here?

“aww,” aunt rosie coos at him, peaking into the brown paper bag. “it looks gorgeous, harry.”

he hums. “it reminded me of her.”

“you should take her to that restaurant she was talking about this morning tomorrow. give her a chance to wear it,” aunt cece says from the kitchen, and rosie seconds the idea.

“i overslept today, so i don’t really know which one you’re talking about.”

“hmm,” the woman in the kitchen has her hand on her hip and her face in her hands. “i’m forgetting the name.”

“latitudes,” kathleen’s voice comes from the doorway. “that’s the restaurant.”

harry can tell by her demeanor that she’s trying to be nice, so he offers her a warm smile before thanking her.

dinner isn’t as bad as he thought it would be. he imagined it being incredibly awkward because of what had happened a few days prior, but surprisingly it’s not. he’s not really sure what was said or what happened after he had left with lynn, but he suspects it was something eye opening by the way kathleen is acting.

when gets back to his condo, he finds lynn sitting on the living room floor with at least twenty photobooks sprawled around her. there’s a half full bottle of wine on the side table, and an empty glass seated at her feet. he wasn’t really sure where she kept getting so much wine. they had only purchased three bottles.

“hey,” he’s kicking his shoes off by the door.

“hey,” she doesn’t look up. her eyes are too focused on some photos that she’s holding in her lap, and he takes the opportunity to slip the boutique bag into one of his drawers.

harry changes into his pajamas and then gets himself a glass from the kitchen. with a deep breath, he moves to the living room and sits next to her on the ground. “can i join you?”

“you don’t have to ask,” lynn reaches for the bottle before filling both of their glasses and setting it back down. she offers him a smile, “such a silly question, harry.”

“did you and silas have a good day?”

“the best,” she says with a grin on her face. harry can’t help the jealousy that starts burning in his chest. he wonders if she says the same when silas asks about him. “we found all of these photobooks. what about you? were the girls good?”

“so good,” he replies. “we got ice cream, and had a little shopping trip.”

“i bet they had so much fun,” she takes her eyes away from the photo book to look up at him. her mouth opens and she pauses, and then, “i missed you today.”

they sit next to each other as lynn opens up a fresh book. it was full of photos from when she was only a kid. there were so many pictures of her in the summertime, lounging around a swimming pool wearing rugrats themed swimmies and eating ice cream, and there were even more of her hanging from the monkey bars in playgrounds and posing cutely in flower fields. his favorites were the ones of her standing behind a mixing bowl with a monogrammed apron tied around her waist.

as she turns the pages, the pictures turn from summer to fall and it goes from wide toothy smiles soaking up the sun rays to close lipped grins at school events. there were photos of her at chorus concerts and class parties and some of her sitting with her arms around her friends in the school cafeteria.

there’s a woman who appears in quite a few of the photos, not enough that he would say she was in almost all of them, but enough that harry recognizes her presence. she looked nothing like lynn or any of her family members. her skin was tan and she had long dark hair with matching dark eyes. she wore red lipstick in a lot of the photos, and every time she did, baby lynn had a matching red lip print stamped on the side of her cheek.

“who’s that?” harry decides to ask when she pulls out a picture from the plastic sleeve. it was of the woman hugging her tight while lynn held up a little certificate indicating she won some award.

“she was my au pair,” lynn traces the corners of the picture as she brings it closer to her face.

“the one your dad had an affair with?”

lynn shakes her head. “the one after. elena,” she clarifies. i spent most of my childhood with her.”

“yeah? it looks like she loved you an awful lot.”

“y’know like that feeling that you get when you think of your mom?” she asks. “i get that when i think of her. she was wonderful, harry.”

“do you still talk to her?”

“no, i think my mom stopped hiring her when amelia was two,” her voice is thick when she speaks, and harry can see the glassiness in her eyes when she looks over to pass him the photo. “i still use that recipe in my bakery today. i wish she could see it.”

harry looks at the photo and can’t stop the smile from growing on his lips. little lynn was grinning so wide, her smile nearly went from ear to ear. the certificate was proudly displayed in her hands with a large FIRST PLACE written across the top. elena had her arms wrapped around her body so tightly, you could see the imprints of her fingertips in little lynn’s flesh. his fingers flip the photo over, and his eyes scan the words written on the back.

e. adams, 1998

“you’re what?” harry speaks. “24? 25?”

“i’m 27,” the girl laughs when she sees harry’s face. “what? is 24 too young for you?”

“i’m 21, lynn,” he deadpans. “freshly, too. my birthday’s in february.”

“oh god,” her wine glass nearly tips over when she turns to face him, and harry wraps his fingers around the stem to catch it.

neither of them speak for a moment. her eyes are scanning over his face like she’s not really sure what to say. both of them had just assumed they were each other’s age.

“is that,” harry pauses. “does that bother you?”

lynn’s bottom lip goes between her teeth before she sighs, “i mean, it’s all pretend, isn’t it?”

harry wants to say that it doesn’t feel all pretend when lynn’s got his mouth pressed to his. or when they’re alone and her fingers rub every ounce of stress from his body. or when they’re in bed every night, pressed so closely together that harry can feel the way her heart beats against his own.

instead, he only smiles. “yeah, i guess it really doesn’t matter.”

they each finish their glass of wine, and harry’s quick to pour them the rest of whatever’s left in the bottle. honestly, she was right. what they were doing was supposed to be pretend. it was his fault for letting parts of it get too real.

maybe lynn didn’t need to know that some of his family disowned him because of his queerness. she also probably didn’t need to hear harry’s drunken confession about him being a friendless loser, and she definitely could’ve gone without seeing him sleeping with someone else.

he takes another large gulp of wine when the realization hits. he likes that she knows those things about him.

“evelyn,” her voice is soft as it pulls him from his thoughts.

“hm?”

“i know you saw it,” she points to the discarded photo on the ground between them. harry was so focused on the bolded 1998, he didn’t even notice the tiny e that preceded it.

“evelyn,” the intensity of his voice matches her, and as soon as the words leave his lips, her eye’s fill with tears. “oh, don’t cry.”

“they’re good tears,” she breathes. “promise.”

his hand cradles her face and tucks her hair behind her ear so it doesn’t get all sticky from the now falling tears. the way she looks up at him feels so real to harry, and it makes his chest grow tight. he didn’t know how he’d be able to walk away from all of this unscathed, but at least he had her now. he’d be stupid not to soak up everything she wanted to give him.

“it’s a pretty name,” he’s nearly whispering now. “fits you.”

“it was my grandmother’s,” she chews on her lips. “she was lovely, harry.”

“she sure seems like it,” her head feels heavy in his hand like she’s relying on him to hold it upright for her. “why’d you change it?”

“jaxson ruined it for me, and hearing it was a lot,” she sighs and her eyes squeeze shut. “it’s stupid i know.”

“i don’t think it’s stupid, blondie,” she looks up at him like she doesn’t necessarily believe him, and harry thinks that if he didn’t find out that she was twenty fucking seven years old minutes prior, he’d kiss her. “not stupid at all.”

really, he still wants to. harry wants to kiss her so hard that she forgets that goddamn loser that made her own name sound unbearable to her. the thought just makes him so incredibly angry. he could kill him.

“hearing it used to make my stomach churn,” she admits.

“it doesn’t anymore?”

her head shakes, “no. at least not when it comes from you.”

“i can call you evelyn if that’s something you want,” lynn sits up when he offers, straightening herself so she’s no longer leaning into his touch. he instantly misses the weight of her.

“yeah, i mean if it’s not too much of an ask. and maybe not in front of my family? it’s been forever since anyone’s called me that. i just- haven’t been able to recognize myself in the mirror since i started going by lynn.” she laughs lightly, but it just sounds sad at this point. “sorry, i think i’ve had too much wine.”

“yeah, i can do that,” harry hums, and he can’t help it when he reaches for her hand. his finger trails across the back of her knuckles. “it’ll be our little secret, won’t it, evelyn?”

30 JULY 2018

harry is absolutely gnawing the fuck out of the sides of his fingers while he waits for lynn to get out of the shower. as soon as she went in (for the third time because she kept forgetting things), he had laid out the dress neatly on the bed with a necklace that kathleen had slipped him at breakfast. she had said that it was lynn’s grandmother’s.

he wasn’t really sure if this whole thing was crossing the line of their fake dating arrangement. they’d be going for no other reason than to spend some time together, but really, friends spend time together all the time. silas and lynn just had dinner last night.

but did silas buy her a dress for it?

whatever. it was too late to take it all back now. he hears the water shut off, and harry knows he’ll see how she really feels about it soon. he was going to be sick.

the sound of the door knob twisting echoes through the quiet room, and then, “harry?”

“yeah?” he sounded so fucking stupid.

“what’s all this?”

“um, a dress?”

lynn moves into the doorway of the bedroom to look at him. she’s wearing a robe around her body and a towel in her hair. “obviously. where did it come from?”

“a boutique,” he replies, and she raises her eyebrow. “i bought it for you yesterday. with amelia and jane.”

“you bought me that?” her voice is quieter than before, and she no longer has the teasing smile that was sitting on her lips just a moment ago.

“yeah,” why did he feel so shy? “if you don’t like it, i kept the receipt-”

“don’t like it? harry, i love it. it’s gorgeous.”

“good,” he sighs. “i thought so, too.”

lynn doesn’t say anything else, but she doesn’t move from her spot in the doorway either. she’s got the softest smile on her face, and she’s looking at him like she’s not really sure what she wants to do next.

“well, go put it on,” he’s moving in her direction to get to the shower. “you don’t want to miss our latitudes reservations, do you?”

“no way!” she shrieks, and when harry follows it with a corny little ‘yes way’, she hugs him around his neck so tightly, her feet aren’t even touching the ground. “thank you. thank you. thank you.” her words are being whispered against the skin of the crook of his neck.

“it was nothing, really.”

“you always say that,” lynn leans away from him, still keeping her arms around his neck.

“i just like seeing you like this,” and maybe he should have picked different words.

“what?” she laughs. “half naked and pressed up against you?”

“jesus christ, no,” his cheeks warm, and he can feel the way her fingers are rubbing the back of his neck. “happy. you’re different here.”

“only when you’re the one here with me,” she presses a kiss to his cheek before stepping back. “now get in the shower. we are not missing latitudes.”

✮✮✮

lynn talks so much during the uber ride to the ferry port. she does it with a big grin on her face, and harry can tell that she’s genuinely excited about their night he had planned. she spends the entire drive discussing the menu and comparing it to yelp reviews, and when they’re on the ferry, she tells him stories about coming here with her grandma while her fingers toy with the small pendant that hangs from the gold chain around her neck.

the two talk all the way through two appetizers and a bottle of wine. harry lets lynn order everything for them because she was the one who wanted to come in the first place, and also because she had spent so much time dissecting the menu. honestly, he didn’t really care what he ate, as long as she was having everything she wanted.

their table was right on the beach, and he had a perfect view of the sun starting to set right behind lynn. harry was sure of only two things at this moment. lynn looks breathtaking in her pretty blue dress, especially during sunset, and he absolutely adores hearing her voice. harry thinks he could hear her talk forever and ever.

she tells him the story from the picture of her and elena with the first place certificate. it was a simple strawberry cheesecake cupcake, and the two had spent nearly a month practicing beforehand. lynn swears that they came out perfect every single time, except for the day of the contest. apparently, the first batch of icing wasn’t setting properly because she had cried too hard over the bowl.

when their mains come, harry realizes that this is the first time the two have hung out and gotten to know each other without some depressing undertone hanging around their conversation. sure, harry learned about elena last night, but the conversation was sad. here, lynn talked about her childhood with shiny eyes, and laughed with harry when he did the same with his.

“have you ever been grand gestured?” lynn asks around a forkful of seared grouper. her dish looked absolutely delicious, and harry regretted not getting it himself.

“not unless you’re counting a cheesy promposal.”

“hm,” she hums. “i’m going to have to go with no.”

“what about you?” harry picks up the wine bottle sitting in the chiller and works on refilling both of their glasses. “have you ever been grand gestured?”

“this is as close as i’ve come.”

“this is not a grand gesture,” harry stresses. he’s worried it’ll come across wrong for a moment until she laughs. “i just meant this is the bare minimum.”

“i know,” she smiles at him, and harry wishes he could take a picture of this moment and keep it tucked away inside his brain forever. “thank you for this again, harry.”

he’s a bit tipsy, and he can tell she is too by the amount of giggles leaving her mouth. harry always saw a sad lynn when she was drunk, and he can’t believe he was lucky enough to see this side of her, too.

this side was magical. there was really no other way to put it. she was the kind of woman that people write books about.

when harry gets tired of his pasta, he twirls little bites around his fork before leaning across the table and feeding it to lynn. it was probably a little immature to be doing at a restaurant like this, but he didn’t really care, and he could tell that she didn’t either by the little appreciative hums that fell around his fork everytime.

“ugh,” she groans when harry orders a slice of key lime pie for dessert. “harry, i’m going to explode!”

“s’okay,” his hand reaches across the table to pat the top of hers. “you don’t have to eat any of it.”

“of course i do. you know i love a sweet treat,” and really, he didn’t, but he does now.

their arms are wrapped around each other’s backs as they walk in through the front door of the condo. lynn immediately goes to the kitchen to get the last of their remaining wine while harry takes the bedroom to change into something a little comfier.

“more wine? where all you getting all of these?”

“been swiping them from my mom’s cabinet,” lynn’s sitting on the floor with her back leaning against the couch, and she laughs at harry’s words, the half empty bottle of wine pressed to her lips. after a sip, she stretches her arm out to harry, “c’mon. it’s our last night.”

he sits next to her, taking a gulp from the bottle before passing it back. “did you have fun tonight?”

“of course i did,” her voice is quiet, not much above a whisper. “i always have fun when we’re together.”

harry turns his head so he’s looking at her. he watches as her eyes drop to his mouth and then travel back up. a little laugh makes her hair float around her face, and as soon as harry thinks she’s leaning in, she stops with a loud ow falling from her lips.

and that’s how harry ends up sitting on the couch with lynn between his knees, working at the pinched nerve she complained about.

"jesus, you're so tight," harry mutters as his thumbs dig into the flesh of her shoulders.

"you're not the first guy to say that.”

"absolutely filthy tonight, aren't you?"

she laughs, and rests her head on her knees. a breathy moan pushes past her lips when he digs into a particularly sore area, "feels good. my neck fucking aches."

harry continues working her shoulders and neck, paying extra attention to the areas that make her breath hitch. he can’t stop looking at the way her lips part and eyebrows draw together. her head tilts back, and her neck strains, like she’s trying to stop herself from making a sound. the soft sighs and muffled whines that she does let fall from her mouth are enough to make him half hard.

he’s embarrassed by it, and really, he tries to think of anything else. if lynn knew he was feeling this way, they’d probably never speak to each other again, but her skin is just so soft and warm, and she sounded so fucking pretty. he really couldn’t help it.

“didn’t realize how much i missed this,” she murmurs with her head leaning against his knee.

“getting a massage? you know they have places for that.”

“knock it off,” he can feel her fingers pinching at his ankle. “i meant this… touching.”

harry hums. “i know what you mean.”

“what?” lynn laughs. “is seven days without taking someone to bed too long for you?”

harry hasn’t been with anyone in weeks. not since lynn had walked in on him and the girl from the bar. he wasn’t necessarily avoiding sex. it’s just that every time he’s gotten close to bringing someone home, he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

“s’different when it’s someone you care about,” he says instead.

harry can feel the way lynn stops picking at the carpet. her body stills except for her shoulders which move up with a deep breath when his fingers brush over her neck. he’s not really working out the knots in her muscle anymore. he’s just… touching.

it doesn’t last for very long because lynn is soon crawling up to sit next to him on the couch. she drapes her knees over his with a sigh on her lips and color blooming on her cheeks. her eyes are glassy when he looks into them, and her mouth is open like she’s going to say something. she doesn’t.

instead, her fingers cup his cheek, and then her mouth is pressing short, sweet kisses to his. she’s slow with it. her lips lazily sucking, and sometimes she drags her tongue slowly across his bottom lip, never letting it venture past that. harry savors her kisses, letting her do whatever she wants.

he knows it’s just fun for her. she’ll probably pull away with a giggle and say something about how it’s been so long since she’s been kissed like that. she’d press her lips against his once more and then they’d go to sleep. it was his fault for letting it feel intimate. with every suck of her mouth, he felt the want for her grow hot in his belly. she was just so perfect.

her lazily kisses pick up a little more pace until they’re feverish. she sucks and licks and harry groans when he feels her teeth nip at his lips. he thinks he possibly couldn’t get even more turned on than he is right now and then she’s straddling his lap, her knees tightly pressed at the sides of his thighs.

“fuck,” she gasps into his mouth as soon as he feels her against him. harry can’t even think straight. the warmth of her has his brain going foggy and his heart racing in a way that should probably be concerning. all it took was one roll of her hips, and he was a pathetic, whining mess beneath her.

"maybe you'd like a reward for all of your hard work?" she breathes into his mouth as she grinds down against him.

"i hope it's that mouth," the pad of his thumb brushes across her lips. they’re swollen and shiny with their spit. "y'know how much i like kissing you. still sweet from dessert, too.”

"how does my throat sound?" harry thinks that he’s heard her wrong, but then she parts her lips and takes his thumb into her mouth, sucking hard.

he can’t help the way he groans at the sight in front of him. her pretty blue dress all the way up to her thighs with her red lips wrapped around his thumb. she is going to kill him.

when she opens her mouth and sticks out her tongue, harry pushes his thumb further back before pressing it down right at the back of her mouth. she gags at the intrusion, looking down at him with big, teary eyes.

"don't think you could fit all of me in there," he pushes down a few more times just to see the way her eyes water over, and then he lets his thumb smear the thick saliva pooling at the corners of her mouth down her chin and all the way to her chest.

"wanna find out?"

he hums, leaning forward. "how bad do you want it?"

she laughs a little, the air from her mouth fanning across his face. "i don't beg, harry. especially not for you. don’t you see that?”

"oh really?" he pulls her into a searing kiss, letting his fingers slide all the way around to the back of her neck until they’re threaded in her hair. harry grabs a fistful of the soft strands and pulls her mouth away from his while his other hand nudges her leg over so she’s back sitting next to him. "that's too bad, blondie."

his lips sponge soft, wet kisses from her mouth down to her shoulders, and then back up. he angles her head so he can trail them up the front of her throat all the way to right below her ear. he lets his teeth graze at the soft skin until she’s letting out a shaky breath and pushing his face away.

"god, harry," he thinks she's going to cave. "i know you're practically a teenager, but you don't have to try and mark me up like one."

"didn't realize turning thirty meant you can't have any fun," harry bites back.

"i am not-" he presses his lips to hers, swallowing down whatever else she was going to say. he thinks if he had to spend one more second without his mouth on hesr, he’d die. "you're lucky you're pretty."

"you think i'm pretty?" he's got a teasing grin on his face.

"don't be annoying. look at you.” and that was it. he knew exactly how to get under her skin.

"do you think i'm prettiest in those yellow swim shorts you put in my suitcase?" he’s leaning in so his nose is nudging hers. lynn’s face flushes and she opens her mouth to speak but closes it. "don't get all shy on me now. i've felt you staring all day."

she scoffs, hands coming up to push at harry’s chest. "you wish."

"maybe i do," a kiss. "wore them just for you after all."

lynn fists his t-shirt, bringing his mouth back to hers. they kiss like they’ve been starved of each other for weeks. harry lets his touch slide up her calf, and his fingers caress the back of her knee.

"harry," her words are soft. a whimper.

"evelyn," harry’s fingers push higher, running all the way up to the inside of her thigh and back down. each time his touch gets closer until he’s thumbing at the cotton edge of her underwear. "what's the matter, blondie? you've gone all quiet on me."

"please," is all she says. it’s so quiet, harry barely catches it over the sound of his heart thumping in his ears.

"what was that?"

"you heard me.”

"i don't think i did."

"please, harry," she rolls her eyes at him, but harry sees right through it.

"please what?" his thumb slides a little under her underwear where he could feel the heat pooling. "are you still all achy?"

lynn nods with a whine in her throat and she turns her head to try and hide the pink flush in her cheeks. looking at her is practically intoxicating.

"gonna tell me where so i can make it better?"

when she doesn’t answer, he squeezes her shoulder, "here?"

her head shakes.

“hmm..” his fingers trail to her neck. “here?”

another shake.

“what about here?” he says as his fingers pinch back at her calf.

lynn groans as she takes his hand, pressing his fingers against her cloth covered center. "here, harry."

"poor, baby," harry murmurs against the crook of her neck. his finger is only gently running against the dampness of her underwear. enough to make her whine, but not enough to give her much relief. "got yourself all worked up over what? little old me?"

"you're ridicu-" a moan from deep in her chest cuts her off when harry thumbs at her clit. she’s looking at him with wide eyes and a heaving chest. he’s not sure if she didn’t expect him to actually touch her, or if she wasn’t expecting to sound so loud.

"here's what i think," he’s only looking at her, his hand back to barely touching her. "you like to act all tough, but it's quite the opposite, really. my sweet honey just needs someone to take care of her, doesn’t she?"

"y-yes.”

he adds a little bit of pressure. a treat for giving him what he wanted. "wanna hear you say it.”

lynn doesn’t answer, and harry tsks before pulling away from her. “nothing? what a shame?”

"i need someone to take care of me," she rushes out like she was so desperate for his touch to be back on her. and what kind of man would harry be if he didn’t listen?

"who?" he pushes further. she's looking at him with furrowed brows. "who do you need to take care of you? to make it all better?"

"you," she cries, her voice broken and needy. "need you to make it better. please, harry.”

"there you go," he praises her with a few kisses to her face. "c’mere, baby."

he tugs her hand so she’s seated in between his legs with her back pressed to his chest. she spreads her legs over his when he nudges her with his knee, and then his fingers find the hem on the pretty blue dress to bunch it at her waist.

"being so good f'me," he kisses her neck while he lets his fingers travel over the plush flesh of her tummy. sure, he felt her like this every night, but this was different. "don't wanna do anything you don't want to, okay? just have to tell me if you want to stop."

"okay," she rushes out. "just... please."

"such good manners," he murmurs against her skin. "think you deserve a little reward."

harry wishes he could forever hear the sound she made when he first dipped his fingers in the front of her underwear. he never imagined her to be so noisy, so loud, but with each stroke of his fingers came whines and moans and whimpers so filthy, they would make the devil look away.

his hand is cramping against the restricting fabric, so he pushes her ruined underwear down her legs, leaving her to kick them the rest of the way off, before moving her hand to the back of her thigh and instructing her to hold herself open for him.

“you’re so fucking hot when you listen, y’know that?” lynn whines at his words and squirms against him as his fingers slowly make a mess of her, watching the way her arousal strings between his fingers. harry’s breathing stops when he catches the perfect view of her. all spread open and glistening. just for him.

harry’s thumb rubs circles against her clit while the rest of his fingers move all the way down, teasing at her entrance. he never pushes in further than his fingertip before he moves them back up and starts again. he does this until she’s so wet that he knows it has to be dripping down onto the couch, and then he slowly pushes a finger in.

lynn’s head is tilted back against his shoulder, and he sponges kisses to the part of her neck that she has bared to him.

“do you think y’can come from this?” he murmurs against her skin. “i know it’s-”

“yes,” she’s quick to breathe out. “god, yes. you’ve got me so fucking horny right now. i’ll be the easiest you’ve ever had.”

and she’s right. once harry moves his free hand from her waist to her center to give her a bit more stimulation, she’s a goner. her moans and whimpers turn into high pitched whines, and her back arches away from him. he can feel her clenching on his fingers, and all it takes is one more curl and she’s nearly convulsing.

harry’s fingers offer lazy touches until she’s whining and snapping her legs together. his lips press warm, encouraging kisses against her neck and shoulders and really, anywhere they could reach. lynn melts in to him, her face falling in the crook of his neck. little giggles tickle his skin as he pulls her dress down to cover her back up.

“so perfect, evy,” he whispers. he expects another laugh or maybe a bashful shove, but instead she’s quick to stand up and head for the front door. “wait.”

"i- um, sorry i just," she clears her throat, and then. "i need some air."

"lynn-" the door slams, and harry’s left wondering what exactly he did wrong.

✮✮✮

harry: im sorry

harry: i shouldn’t have let myself get so carried away

harry: i don’t know what else to say but i am so sorry.

lynn shuts off her phone and slips it into her pocket before quietly opening up the door to the bedroom. all of their stuff was packed up. only an outfit that she had picked earlier in the day was left on top of her suitcase in a nice neat pile. the huge mess she had made in the bathroom before dinner was all packed up into her toiletry bag, and when she stepped a bit closer, she could see harry stretched out under the covers all the way on the other side of the bed. he was such a gentleman.

she felt so embarrassed when she found herself calling her aunt to let her into her condo. she didn’t mean to run out on harry the way she did, but once everything started to feel a little bit too real, she didn’t know what else to do. what was she supposed to say? i actually haven’t let anyone touch me like that in over half a decade, but yeah, we can call it two friends just helping each other out.

her aunt offered her a shower and a change of clothes and then sat with lynn on the bathroom floor while she cried so hard, she nearly threw up. aunt cece rubbed her back while she dry heaved over the toilet bowl, and then she sat and listened while lynn told her all about their fake arrangement.

“isn’t that pathetic?” lynn had said once she was finished.

aunt cece only sighed, “i think it’s more pathetic that you’re crying this hard over here instead of just telling him how you feel.”

and once aunt cece mentions that she thinks that harry likes her in a way that’s more than just platonic, lynn starts thinking that maybe letting him know about her feelings wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

they’d spend more alone time together once they got home. lynn would probably invite him to the bakery on a sunday where she could show him everything elena had helped her create. she’d send him home with loaves of bread and all of the muffins his heart desires.

maybe he’d let her watch him paint. they could spend sunny afternoons in the park with a picnic and a canvas. she’s only ever been artistic in the kitchen, but she’d definitely try to paint something for harry. it’d probably end up terrible, but he’d keep it. maybe even hang it up in his house. she knows she’d do the same. covering her walls in harry’s art just because they were made from him.

long nights would be spent in between her sheets, where he’d give her the best orgasms she’s ever had in her entire life (just like he did tonight). and then maybe, he’d let her touch him, too.

“he called me evy,” lynn told her aunt. it was the very phrase that had her running, but this time a smile forms on her face when she thinks of it. “i told him about evelyn, but not evy.”

it was a nickname her grandmother had given her. everyone had called the older woman evie, and so she called lynn, evy. she had said she wanted her granddaughter to feel like her own person, and the name stuck.

the first time her dad called her evy after her grandmother's passing lynn cried so hard she threw up in her front yard. it didn't feel right coming from peter, and even when luke wrapped her in all the love he could muster, pressing kisses to her face and promising evy that everything would be okay night after night, it still felt wrong. it was like there was an itch that could only be scratched by her grandma's voice. and now harry's.

“maybe she sent him to you,” her aunt’s fingers smoothed her hair away from her face before kissing her head. “go see him.”

harry looks up from his phone when he hears lynn step into the small room. “i’m so fucking sorry, lynn.”

his voice is raw and scratchy, and the thought of him crying over what she did to him makes her heart break. she climbs into the bed, sitting with her feet underneath her. “you’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

“but, i-”

“nothing, harry,” she stresses."you didn't do anything wrong. i just... i get in my own head sometimes. i'm sorry i left the way i did."

"it’s okay," he rolls over so he's facing her. his hand covers hers. "you can talk to me when you feel like that, lynn."

"the guy i dated before my last, he was," she clears her throat. "he was a friend. well, he is a friend and i think..."

she doesn't know how to say what she wants. lynn thinks dating her friend was one of the best decisions she's ever made. that relationship happened nearly a decade ago and she still secretly wishes that she was selfish and asked him to stay when he came to her door.

well, she used to wish. she hasn’t thought about it in a while.

she thinks that maybe her and harry could be like that. or they could try to be like that. they were friends. they knew each other and she was comfortable with him. comfortable enough to let his hand go up her dress. her cheeks warm at the thought.

she'll tell him that being with luke ruined their friendship and she was never close with him again. lynn never really minded the way luke slipped so easily from her life, but she’s terrified that the same would happen with harry. she really likes having him around.

she’s going to tell him regardless, and perhaps she’ll make him promise that trying wouldn’t ruin anything. that if their relationship went south, they’d still have their friendship to fall back on.

"i think that, um," she closes her eyes and harry squeezes her hand. “um, well-”

"it's okay. i'm still hung up on my ex, too. what happened between us doesn't have to mean anything."

oh.

"okay," she breathes, trying to make sure she didn’t look as devastated as she fucking felt. "good. that’s what i was going to say."

harry sighs, "i haven't been able to stop thinking about him recently, if i'm being honest."

shut up! shut up! shut up! shut up!

"why don't you tell me about him?" she gets under all of the covers, an excuse to pull herself away from him. "since you know about mine."

lynn doesn’t really know why she asks, but she did. so, she listens to harry talk about his stupid ex named oliver with a huge smile on her face. like she could not be more elated to be hearing about how much he loves him if she tried. lynn wipes his tears when he talks about how mean he was to the boy when they were in high school, and even holds his hand when he hiccups about how much he misses him.

“you should reach out to him,” she says, letting her fingers card through his hair.

“you think so?” harry sniffs.

“yeah,” lynn hums. “it might be good for both of you.”

when lynn mentions it, she doesn’t expect him to do it right then and there, but he does. he pulls out facebook messenger, and she has to pretend not to notice the way that oliver jones was the only saved search.

maybe they’ll meet up, oliver will want nothing to do with him. harry will have a cleared conscious and he'll come back to lynn. she’ll go to therapy as soon as the plane’s wheels touch down in westchester, so when he ultimately comes knocking at her door, she’ll be better. good for him. yeah, she thinks. that will totally happen.

she clings on to whatever little sliver of hope she had left because that stupid scenario was the only thing keeping her from bursting in to tears.

when lynn looks over at harry, he’s tapping away on his phone screen. the dim light illuminates his face, and she decides if that moment were to ever come around, she’d be selfish. just that once.

✰✰✰✰

a/n: this felt like sooo much information but! part six sooon (hopefully by the end of next week)

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