#shout out to the people in his chat for noticing i DID NOT see this live | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

worseforwords · 2 months

Text

The Arrangement

(Alessia Russo x Reader)

Chapter I of Marshmallow

“Sweetheart? Can you hear me?” your mom’s voice cackled through the phone. “Take your phone off your ear, mum, you’ve facetimed me,” you chuckled. “Oh, right. Hi, darling, lovely to SEE you,” she giggled at her own joke. “How are you, love? And where are you? I don’t recognise that wall behind you,” she inquired. “I’m in the changing room at Arsenal, you know, my job.” “Right, ‘course. Everything alright? How’s your g-” “Yeah, everything’s good,” you quickly interrupted her, hoping no one in the changing room caught on to what she was about to say. “I have to head to training soon, mum. Did you want anything from me?” “Right, busy woman, no time for chit-chat with her mum. Your dad and I were just wondering if we could come visit you anytime soon. We haven’t seen you since Christmas, and we would both really love to meet your girlfriend!” She said that last part with a bit too much excitement, and you were sure you saw some heads snap your way from the corner of your eye. “Ehh, yeah, I’m just a little busy at the moment with football, so I’m not sure when I’ll be free,” you said as you quickly turned down the volume of your phone. “I know, darling, but I noticed there’s no match scheduled the weekend after the next one, so you’ll be free then, right?” Another disadvantage of being a professional athlete: usually having a very public schedule. “Right, yeah, I think so. I’ll call you after training, mum.”

You hung up after both of you exchanged goodbyes and you immediately noticed a few eyes on you. One pair belonged to a smirking Katie, who quickly plumped herself down next to you. “What was that I heard? Does somebody have a new girlfriend?” “What the hell, why haven’t I heard about this?” Leah joined in. “Lotte, did you know?” Your roommate Lotte shook her head. “Haven’t seen or heard anyone at our house.” “How is that even possible?” Victoria wondered out loud. “Is it a long-distance thing?” Caitlin joined in on the conversation. By this point, you were surrounded by your teammates, gazing at you, awaiting answers, and your head was spinning, trying to come up with anything to explain your situation.

Ultimately you decided on just telling them the truth, knowing full well a lie wasn’t getting you out of this situation. “There is no girlfriend,” you said quietly. Clearly, your answer wasn’t satisfactory as everyone kept staring at you frantically. “My parents kept asking me when I would finally bring someone home because my brother and sister are both happily married or engaged homeowners starting their own families. They keep telling me not to wait until it’s too late. At Christmas, when they started again, I finally snapped. I lied and told them I have a girlfriend.” You took a quick breath before you continued. “Only it backfired because now they won’t stop asking me about her, and apparently, I have to find a girlfriend within the next week or so.” You let your head fall into your hands dramatically. There was a short silence as everyone around you processed what you had just told them. Then a loud shriek as Katie burst out laughing. “Oh boy, you’ve gotten yourself into some trouble, mate!” she shouted. “Good luck with that.”

The next few minutes were filled with everyone either light-heartedly teasing your situation or attempting to play matchmaker and find you a girlfriend, which you knew was futile with only 10 days to go. This was precisely why you avoided going on dates. All the unwarranted attention and people meddling in your life, you didn't need it. You’d rather concentrate on the love of your life that you did have some control over: football. Fortunately, Kim took her captaincy very seriously and summoned everyone out of the changing room for training to begin, but not before sending you a sympathetic smile as you mouthed a quick “thank you” to her.

Training went by swiftly, and afterward, some of the girls gathered at Beth and Viv’s for dinner. You sat on the sofa with Laura and Viv as Alessia was directing Vic in the kitchen, and Beth was setting the table. “So, Y/N, are you going to tell your parents the truth about your girlfriend... or lack thereof?” Laura asked. “I don’t know; it’ll be so embarrassing. And I definitely won’t be able to hold off on them trying to set me up with their neighbour’s son, who is studying to be a doctor, or my mum’s colleague’s daughter who’s in law school.” You imitated your mom as you talked about the people your parent wanted to set you up with before dramatically making a barf gesture. “But what else can you do?” Viv asked. “Let’s see... Fake my own death and start a new life elsewhere? Start studying robotics and learn to design my own robot girlfriend? Pretend I’ve got short-term memory loss and have forgotten who my own girlfriend is?”

“Okay, I need to join in on this, scoot,” Beth waved her hands, gesturing for you to move over. “The fact that you thought of building a robot girlfriend before considering finding an actual girlfriend is insane,” she said, almost like she was scolding you. “I get it,” mumbled Viv as Beth immediately sent her a stern glare to which she responded with by blowing her a quick kiss. “I don’t want a relationship right now. Besides, 10 days is way too little time to find someone,” you said, ignoring their antics. “Fine, have it your way, go with the robot. Vic can help you; she’s studied maths,” she joked as she got up again. “Excuse me,” Vic got involved from the kitchen. “Which of my subjects do you think is about robot girlfriends?” She giggled. “I say go with the Dory thing.”

“Vic, stir this sauce for a bit, please,” Alessia spoke sternly as she turned towards all of you. “Okay, I can’t believe no one has thought of this, but the solution is very simple. You just find someone who can pretend to be your girlfriend for the weekend your parents visit,” she explained as all of you listened. “Yes! Less, that’s a perfect plan,” Beth exclaimed. “But who should it be? Maybe you can hire an actor!” She added as you seriously considered this option for a moment. “Hm, I don’t know, seems kind of risky if they don’t really know me,” you said.

“Yeah, you should probably pick a friend, someone you’ve known for a while and who knows what you’re up to these days,” Laura stated. “Sooo, maybe a teammate?” Vic suggested. “Yes!” Beth shouted again. “A teammate. But who? Obviously not someone who is openly dating someone else already, so me and Viv are out,” she then stated more calmly. “Laura and I can’t make it either, we’re going out with the Aussies, remember?” Vic asked as Laura nodded.

A silence fell as everyone sort of stared at Alessia, who was too focused on her cooking to notice. “Less?” Beth caught her attention, making her jump a little when she noticed everyone’s hopeful gazes fixated on her. “Are you available?” she asked. “Oh yeah sure, I’ll do it.” Alessia sent you a quick smile before continuing to make dinner. “That settles it then,” Beth said, giving you no say in the matter whatsoever. If you were being honest, though, you were just glad you had found somewhat of a solution to your problem. Besides, you didn’t know Alessia that well, the two of you usually being in different friend groups within the team and you had been intrigued to get to know her better for a while now.

The next few days in training everyone was mostly focussed on the game ahead. Some new pieces of gossip flooded the changing room and much to your delight, you and your love life were left unspoken of. It almost seemed a bit too good to be true, and you were now starting to worry it had all been a joke that you took too seriously. After all, the whole plan was a bit insane, definitely unlike anything you had ever done before. Were you just too desperate to notice that it was all banter?

"Everything alright, Y/N?” Alessia's voice jolted you from your mental spirals. “You seem a bit distracted.” “Yeah, all good. My mind just wandered for a second.” You feigned a smile. “Okay.” She returned the smile. “Hey, Alessia,” you began before she could exit the changing room. “Can I talk to you for a second?” “Yeah, of course. What’s up?” She settled herself beside you.

“So, you know about our crazy fake girlfriend plan, and—” “Correction, it’s my crazy plan, not ‘our’. My idea.” She interjected with a satisfied expression. “Right, your crazy plan. Anyhow, I realise you were put on the spot when Beth asked if you were available. I just wanted to say you don’t have to do it; I can find someone else,” you spoke hesitantly. “Oh no, I want to do it. Unless you’d prefer someone else, of course.”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” you quickly clarified. “Alright then, let’s do it.” You offered a shy smile. “Ehh, I hope that’s not how you planned on asking me,” she giggled. You shot her an ‘are you serious?’ look. She responded with what you assumed was her best ‘yes, I’m serious, how dare you even question that’ expression. “Give me one second.”

You darted around the corner, returning a few seconds later with a ring made from bright blue kinesiology tape. “Alessia Russo, will you do me the honour of being my fake girlfriend for the weekend?” you proposed, getting down on one knee before her. “Yes, YES, a thousand times yes!” She dramatically pretended to swoon as you slid the makeshift ring onto her finger.

“Right, so my parents will be visiting from Friday night until Sunday, most likely,” you swiftly changed the subject, attempting to avoid any blush creeping onto your cheeks. “But you don’t have to be there for the entire duration, of course. If you could just pop in for a bit on Saturday, that would be great,” you suggested. “Oh, well I don’t really have any other plans because I assumed this would be an all-weekend kind of thing,” she replied softly, and you felt the warmth in your cheeks intensify. “And Dan is out of town anyway.”

Right, Dan. Her boyfriend. You were aware of him, you had met him – this wasn’t new information. So why did you suddenly feel a knot tightening in your stomach at Alessia mentioning him? “So, what do you want me to be like?” She brought you back from your thoughts. “What do you mean?” You asked. “I mean, how do you want me to be around your parents? We’ve got to impress them, right?” She explained. “Oh, just be yourself. They’ll love you. I know they will,” you assured her as she got up from the bench, ready to go warm up.

“Whatever happened in here?” Leah asked as she entered the changing room, followed by some other girls, right after Alessia had left. “What do you mean?” You inquired. “Well, Less just almost walked into me; she was all flustered and smiley, and now here you are, looking all flustered and upset,” she explained. “Nothing happened. I’m not upset. Just a bit nervous about my parents visiting and everything,” you lied. Either Leah didn’t notice or she decided to let you off the hook, but either way, she didn’t ask any further questions about it. As one of your best friends, Leah knew you very well, and she also knew that questioning you in a room full of people was the worst thing she could do to you.

“So is Less still coming?” Beth inquired. “Yes,” you mumbled, not wanting everyone to get involved again, but with no success. “Less?” Katie jumped in. “Why would she come?” Luckily, Beth came to your aid and explained the whole situation to everyone there so you didn’t have to.

“That’s a great plan,” Katie finally spoke. “But how will we make it believable?” “I’m sorry, we?” You tried to interrupt. “We should quiz them!” Beth suggested loudly, ignoring you entirely. “What is happening?” You mumbled to Leah who just laughed at you in response. “Yes! Lotte, can you come up with some questions about Less, and Leah, you can do the same for Y/N.”

Somehow, everyone had agreed on the quiz idea, and once again, you had no say in it. On Wednesday night, a few of the girls gathered at Lotte and your place to prepare you and Alessia for the weekend. The anticipation in the air was as thick as the excitement before a big match. Tables were set up, and a stack of papers with questions lay in the centre. Lotte, with her mischievous smile, and Leah, ever ready for a good laugh, were the architects of this grand interrogation.

You, Alessia, and the rest of the team settled in around the living room. The atmosphere was a mix of nerves and amusement, everyone eager to see how this plan would unfold. Beth, who put on an oversized blazer and a bright red Arsenal bowtie for the occasion, took charge, announcing the rules with a theatrical flourish.

“Alright, everyone! Welcome to the Ultimate Fake Girlfriend Quiz Night!” She exclaimed, earning a round of laughter. “We’ve got questions about Y/N for Alessia and questions about Alessia for Y/N. Let’s see how well our fake couple knows each other.” The room erupted into cheers. Lotte, holding a list of questions about Alessia, winked at you. Leah, armed with questions about you, looked equally mischievous.

The first round began, and Leah fired off questions about you. Alessia, to everyone’s surprise, answered with remarkable accuracy. “Alright, Alessia,” Leah said with a smirk, “what’s Y/N’s guilty pleasure snack?”

Alessia pondered for a moment, a playful glint in her eyes. “Chocolate-covered pretzels. She hides them in the back of a cabinet, but I always find them.” Laughter filled the room. You couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at Alessia, impressed and slightly amused that she had picked up on your secret indulgence. Apparently her close friendship with your roommate had given her quite an advantage.

Lotte, taking her turn, quizzed you about Alessia’s life. “What’s Alessia’s weirdest talent?” she asked with a sly grin. You thought for a moment, realising Alessia had shared a few quirky skills in the changing room. “She can do this weird thing with her tongue, like roll it into a clover shape. It’s bizarrely impressive.”

Alessia blushed, seemingly surprised that you remembered such a minor detail. The room erupted into cheers again. As the quiz progressed, Alessia consistently demonstrated an uncanny knowledge of your habits and likes. It seemed like she had been paying much more attention than you thought.

The highlight came when Leah, with a devious smile, presented the final question: “What’s Y/N’s weirdest habit in the morning?” Alessia, grinning confidently, answered, “She talks to herself in the mirror while doing her hair. Full-on conversations with her own reflection.” Your face turned crimson, and a chorus of laughter echoed through the room. You shot Alessia a playful glare.

The quiz ended and the consensus was clear — Alessia and you knew each other surprisingly well, considering this was supposed to be a fake relationship. However, Katie, ever the provocateur, couldn’t resist stirring the pot.

She leaned forward with a teasing grin. “So, you two aced the quiz, but do you even have any chemistry?” Her question hung in the air, causing a collective intake of breath from the spectators. Alessia looked at you, a subtle uncertainty in her eyes. “Seriously, guys, you need to up your game. You look way too platonic.”

Your teammates, now fully invested in your fake romance, decided to play relationship coaches. “Alright, stand up,” Beth commanded. “Let’s see how you two handle physical proximity. Hug. Now.” You and Alessia exchanged a glance, both feeling a bit awkward. You hesitated for a moment before tentatively wrapping your arms around each other. The teammates observed and then erupted into a chorus of opinions.

“Too stiff!”

“More like you mean it!”

“Look into each other’s eyes, not the ceiling!”

You and Alessia shared an amused yet bewildered look. The teammates continued their analysis, discussing everything from hand-holding techniques to the positioning of your bodies. It was like a crash course in relationship theatrics. “Alright, sit down,” Beth commanded again. “You two are sitting too far apart. Scoot closer.”

As you and Alessia moved to sit side by side, Steph suggested, “Try a more casual touch. Like, Y/N, put your hand on Alessia’s leg.” Panic flashed across your face, but you complied, very carefully placing your hand on Alessia’s leg. The room erupted into laughter again.

“Okay, she said casual, Y/N. She’s not made of thin glass now is she?” Beth joked, and Alessia chuckled as you adjusted your grip, secretly wanting to disappear into the couch. The teammates continued to give advice, critiquing every move and gesture. Amidst the laughter and chaos, Laura suggested, “You guys should try the 36 Questions. You know, that study that makes people fall in love?”

That mention drew curious looks from you and Alessia. Beth explained, “People say you’ll fall in love if you answer them honestly with someone. It could help you two look more... well, in love.” The idea was met with a mix of enthusiasm and skepticism. “Homework for our fake couple!” Beth declared, and everyone laughed.

As the evening wound down, the teammates left your place. Everyone but Alessia, who offered to help you clean the place up. Lotte went to bed, leaving you and your now approved ‘fake girlfriend’ with a newfound list of relationship do’s and don’ts, along with the prospect of a homework assignment that promised to make your fake relationship more convincing.

“So… I guess we’ve got some homework to do,” you said, feeling very awkward all of a sudden now that it was just you two. You then realised you had never really hung out together without at least one other person being there. “Yeah, 36 questions,” she started as she grabbed her phone. “Do you believe in this?”

“No of course not,” you said, ever the sceptic. “But I do believe Katie is gonna murder us if we don’t do our homework. Both of you exchanged glances like, ‘Are we really doing this?’ and rolled your eyes in silent agreement that this was a bit of a silly experiment.

“Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?” She read the first question from her phone, immediately gazing at the ceiling as if in thought about her answer. “I bet yours would be Michael Jordan,” you said. “Hey, I’m asking you about your answer not mine!” She giggled as she elbowed your shoulder.

“Fine, let me think. Do they have to be alive?” You wondered. “I mean I guess it says ‘anyone’, so if you want to have dinner with a corpse, by all means,” she chuckled. “No, not like that, ew,” you now elbowed her. “I just mean I would love to have dinner with my grandma. She’s sacrificed so much for our family, but I only ever knew her as a child so I’ve never been able to thank her for it.” Still in thought you stared at your feet for a bit until you realised it had been quiet for a while in your living room.

“Sorry,” you said, quickly looking up and finding Alessia’s eyes already on you with a look you couldn’t quite place. “I’ll just go with Beyoncé, she’d be a cool dinner guest,” you quickly changed your answer. “No, no, that was really sweet. I bet your grandma would love to have dinner with you too. And I’m sure she knew you’d be grateful,” she said softly, her eyes remaining on yours. “Yeah well, you just called her a corpse so that idea is kind of ruined for me now,” you teased. “No I didn’t!” She protested.

The first couple of questions were mostly light and you chuckled at each other’s silly answers. However, as you continued down the list, the questions became increasingly deep and personal and as eye-rolls turned into thoughtful pondering, you both found yourselves sharing way more than you had expected.

Alessia’s responses were open and honest as she shared stories about her childhood dreams, the hurdles in her football journey, and her aspirations beyond the pitch. One question, in particular, struck a chord: “If you could wake up tomorrow having gained any one quality or ability, what would it be?” Alessia’s response was heartfelt. “I’d want to be fearless. Not just on the field, but in life. There are times when I feel held back by my own doubts and fears. I’d love to face everything without that weight.”

Her openness made it easy for you to share your own dreams and fears. The conversation flowed easily, moving through topics of love, aspirations, and personal histories. It felt like something shifted between the two of you. Alessia was no longer just a teammate or a fake girlfriend to you. She was someone you could talk to, someone you felt a genuine connection with and you had a newfound appreciation for her.

By the time you had finished the first set of questions you finally looked at the time. “Oh my god, Alessia, it’s 2 am!” You both jumped up. Two hours had passed since everyone had left and you had an early training the next morning. “Really? How did that happen. I should run then,” she said.

“Hey, do you want to stay over?” You asked as you immediately noticed her questioning expression. “In the guest room I mean. Just cause we have an early training tomorrow and I don’t want you to be exhausted.” You quickly added. “Yeah, that’d be nice.” She smiled shyly at you. “Okay, be right back.” You stated as you sprinted towards your bedroom.

You returned a few minutes later with a bunch of stuff in your arms. “Here’s an unused toothbrush, towels are in the bathroom cabinet, and I didn’t know what you like to sleep in so here’s some shorts, joggers, a t-shirt and a hoodie. Wear whatever you want.” You rambled nervously as she chuckled. “Thank you Y/N. Good night.”

The next morning, your alarm blared, pulling you from the depths of sleep. Groggily, you stumbled out of bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Training awaited, and as you yawned your way through the morning routine, the events of the previous night flashed in your mind. You couldn’t help but glance at Alessia, who was already up, seemingly more awake than you were. She flashed you a tired yet friendly smile. “Morning,” she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep. “Morning,” you replied, trying to shake off the remnants of your dreams. The two of you exchanged a glance, a silent acknowledgment of the peculiar situation you found yourselves in.

As you headed to training together, you couldn’t ignore the amused glances from your teammates. Alessia, clad in your training gear because she hadn’t brought her own, was the target of playful banter. “Nice walk of shame, Alessia!” Katie teased, eliciting laughter from others. “You two look tired, looks like our chemistry experiments worked a little too wel!” Quipped Beth, pointing out the bags under both your eyes.

Training progressed as usual, but not without the occasional teasing from one of your teammates. You knew none of them really meant anything by it though. Everyone knew it was just a bit and that the two of you were no more than friends. And so did you, cause that was the deal, right?

“You know,” Alessia began when the two of you were alone for a second after Katie asked her when you were planning your next sleepover, “despite all the teasing and the fake girlfriend stuff, I’m kind of enjoying getting to know you better.” You felt your cheeks starting to flush as you took in her genuine smile. “Yeah, me too. It’s strange how these things work out.” You tried your best to reciprocate her smile without blushing too hard. What on earth was happening to you?

The day went by swiftly as the prospect of having Alessia around as your fake girlfriend all weekend had you slowly spiral into a nervous wreck. When Friday afternoon finally arrived, you stood in front of the bathroom mirror as you went over the many things that could go wrong. What if your parents didn’t believe it? What if they did? What would that even mean? What if she never even showed up cause who were you to think she would do something like that for you? What if her boyfriend got mad? What if she suddenly started liking you, for real? What if she didn’t?

You splashed water in your face, desperately trying to stop your mind from spiralling, and more specifically to erase those last thoughts. Where was your mind coming up with all this none-sense? Was there something more to this? Another splash. No. None-sense. You groaned as you watched drops of water trickle down your face.

“Y/N? Everything okay?” You heard Lotte’s voice call out from the other side of the locked bathroom door. “Less is here.” You inhaled a sharp breath as you felt a familiar knot form in your stomach. “Shit,” you mumbled to yourself. “Be right there!”

“You’re early,” is the first thing you said when you came out of the bathroom after quickly drying yourself off and fixing your hair. “Nice to see you too.” A kindly smiling Alessia appeared once you opened the door. “Thought I’d help you prepare before your parents show up. Hey, are you okay?” She gazed at you as if she was examining your current state. “Yeah, I’m okay. Sorry, hi, thank you for being here.” You opened up your arms as an invitation for a hug which she accepted immediately.

“Allright, lovebirds, I’m out.” Lotte said, suitcase in hand as she hugged you both goodbye, leaving for a little romantic getaway with her boyfriend. “Have fun!” You both shouted at the same time as she closed the door behind herself.

You spent the next hour or so getting the house ready for your parent’s arrival and providing Alessia with all the necessary information on your family, as if you were doing a last minute study session for an exam.

Then, a knock on the door echoed through the house, signalling the arrival of your parents. A surge of nerves shot through you as you exchanged a quick glance with Alessia. You both took a deep breath, steeling yourselves for the upcoming performance. “Ready?” Alessia whispered, and you nodded, though your heart was doing a drumroll in your chest.

-> Chapter II

#alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #lionesses #lionesses x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #engwnt x reader #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal wfc

528 notes · View notes

cupid-styles · 3 months

Text

drunk conversations (hockey!h x ballerina!yn)

another hockey!h x ballerina!yn blurb bc im a wh*re for them and they're so fun to write!!! kind of sort of builds on this blurb from monday if u missed it !

word count: 1.5k

content warnings: alcohol, harry being a bit possessive, brief unwanted touching (not sexual, not done by harry)

hockey!h masterlist

main masterlist | talk to me

patreon

. . .

Harry’s drunk, but he’s not drunk enough to ignore the fact that Y/N is uncomfortable.

He doesn’t mean to stare. He didn’t even notice that they were at the same bar until about an hour ago, when his eyes were scanning over the crowds of people and he accidentally zeroed in on her. At the time, she had been with her friends, chatting and laughing. In her natural state, she looked happy. Glowing. Pretty.

But the friends she came with have scattered since then, and now she’s pinned beneath the glare of some guy Harry’s seen a few times on campus. They’ve never spoken, but he sees him out every now and then, and he’s always doing the same thing — talking up girls, staring at them like they’re pieces of meat. It made him feel sick then, but it makes him feel insane knowing that he’s doing it to Y/N.

Gripping his drink in his hand, he can’t help but narrow his eyes at the man. Her body language is blatantly uncomfortable — she’s nearly carrowing underneath his intense gaze, smiling tightly as she nods her head when it seems appropriate. Every few minutes, she’ll glance away from him, as if she’s looking for a friend to rescue her.

Harry doesn’t believe in the whole prince charming, knight in shining armor thing. He’ll never come running unless a friend signals that they need him. But when he watches him grab her face and redirect it back towards him, making her eyes startle widely, he’s on his feet before he can even think about what he’s doing.

“Hey!” he shouts, ambling towards the duo. Y/N’s head snaps towards him, her lips parted slightly, and the man’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “The fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Harry—”

“What do you mean?” he sneers, standing from his bar stool.

“She’s clearly not interested,” Harry growls, standing beside Y/N protectively. “Fuck off, yeah? Don’t fucking touch her unless she asks you to.”

“How do you know she’s not interested?”

“Harry—”

He glances down at her, and his heart nearly shatters in his chest when he sees her watery eyes. She’s giving him a silent plea to stop so he presses his lips into a thin line, reality hitting him square in the face. He didn’t have a reason to do this. Y/N isn’t his, and she doesn’t need him to stand up for her.

Embarrassed, Harry stumbles away. He can hear his friends calling after him, but he needs air. When he makes his way out of the crowded bar and the chilly winter climate hits him, he slides down against the brick exterior of the bar, letting out a shaky breath.

What is he doing?

With his eyes shut tightly, he doesn’t even notice when Y/N sits down next to him. It takes him a few moments to bat his eyelashes open, swallowing as he takes in her bundled up form. She has a puffer jacket wrapped around her, her breath creating thick clouds every time she exhales.

“You alright?” she asks softly. Harry nods, leaning his head back.

“Sorry about that,” he mutters, “I don’t know what got into me.”

She shrugs her shoulders. “To be fair, I was uncomfortable, and I didn’t like that he touched me.”

That makes Harry feel a tad bit better, but he’s still overwhelmed with humiliation. He can’t stop playing the interaction in his head, replaying how ridiculous he must’ve looked.

“Are you okay, then?” Harry asks a few moments later.

She hums, picking at a loose thread from the hem of her sweater. “I’m drunk.” she admits with a soft peel of laughter.

“Me too.”

They both chuckle lightly. Y/N glances at Harry in her peripheral vision. Maybe it’s the wine goggles, or maybe it’s because she, admittedly so, is thankful he stepped in the way he did, but she thinks he looks cute. Drunk and flushed, a dimple popping out on his right cheek every time he smiles or laughs, Y/N wishes she could memorize the way he looks right now.

It would be easier to get along with him if he always acted this way.

“Why are we so mean to each other?” she blurts out. Harry leans his cheek on his knee, bunching his sweater up over his hands. With a wrinkle between his brows, he contemplates her question.

“You don’t like me,” he answers slowly. “I guess that’s not a reason, but… that’s how it happened, isn’t it?”

“I only started acting this way because you tease me all the time.”

Harry shrugs. “I don’t mean it.”

She scoffs, “You sure act like you do.”

His throat goes dry. He supposes she doesn’t have a reason to think otherwise, given the childish, mocking nature of most of their interactions. If he’s being truthful, though, he hates that.

“It’s just… it’s stupid, isn’t it?” he asks, not entirely sure if he’s being rhetorical. “That we’re so rude to one another for no reason.”

“Well, I don’t like the way you speak to me,” Y/N says with a straightened spine. Harry glances at her, his eyes dipping to the long sleeve black shirt she’s wearing. The back of it exposes her spine, all the way down to just above where her hips begin. He swallows, willing his drunk brain to pay attention.

“I’m sorry.” he rasps. He means it, or at least Drunk Harry does.

She hums, pulling her jacket tighter around her body.

“Do you have a cigarette I can bum?” he asks. He doesn’t actually want one and he only ever smokes them when he’s drinking — they’re bad for the lungs and all, and Coach would kill him for it anyway — but he’s willing to say anything to change the subject. When he looks at her, she’s nibbling on her bottom lip, lost in thought, but shakes her head.

“No, sorry. I don’t smoke,” she swallows. “How much do you think we’ll regret this conversation tomorrow?”

“What d’you mean?”

“I’m always embarrassed by the shit I say when I’m fucked,” Y/N admits. “Spend most of my hangover anxious about whatever came out of my mouth.”

Harry chuckles, swaying a bit as he stands up from his seat on the sidewalk. He looks down at her expectedly, reaching his hand out to help her up.

“C’mon then. Walk me home. We’re this far, we may as well really embarrass ourselves.”

Y/N laughs, crinkles forming in the creases of her eyes. She stands across from him, looking as if she’s actually contemplating it for a moment — but then she bites her lip, shaking her head.

“What, you don’t wanna come smoke out the window at Casa de Harry?”

That really makes her giggle and Harry can’t help but grin, his chest warming at the feeling of making her laugh.

“No, I should get back to my friends.” she says. She rolls her lips into her mouth and bounces on her feet, the cold clearly getting to her. “Are you really going home?”

He nods. “Change your mind?”

“No, I’ve never smoked a cigarette and I don’t plan on tonight being the night.”

“I’ll get you there eventually.”

She rolls her eyes, though the small smile on her lips tells him that he’s done something right tonight.

“If you’re heading back alone, can you just text me so I know you make it home safe?” she asks, twisting her body to face the entrance of the bar. She turns to see his surprised expression, but he nods, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his trousers.

“Sure,” he replies, “I can do that.”

“Okay. Thanks, Harry.”

“You’re welcome, Y/N.”

She blinks, standing there for a beat longer. She looks like she’s thinking about something again, but instead she flashes him a tight smile and walks back inside.

When Harry’s hustled home safely, he brings up their text thread. It’s a recent one in his history, since she sent him some stretches to do to help with his achy hips a few days ago. He nibbles on his bottom lip as he quickly writes out a message — the cold sobered him up a fair amount, but he’s still tipsy enough to not be embarrassed by this tonight. Tomorrow will be a different story.

At the bar, Y/N’s smiling to herself as she reads his text: Made it home. I hope we can start being nice to each other.

“Y/NNNNN,” a drunken peel of laughter from Lea drags her attention from her phone, “Who are you texting?!”

She laughs and stuffs her phone back in her pocket. “No one, nosy!”

“‘s Harry,” Rena slurs, eyes widening playfully as she lifts her drink to her lips, “You two just really need to hate fuck and get it out of your systems already!”

Y/N rolls her eyes, waving them off as they begin to chatter about something else — but her mind is elsewhere, her eyes mentally scanning over Harry’s biceps bulging beneath the tee-shirt he wore tonight, or his toned abs shaking just a bit in their yoga class earlier this week.

And the more she contemplates it, the more she wonders if an alcohol-fueled hate fuck is exactly what they need.

#writing #hockey h #harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles fic #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles one direction #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #one direction #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles angst #harry styles fic rec

693 notes · View notes

mondaymelon · 1 year

Text

when they first fell in love with you. ♡

(sumeru genshin impact males x gn!reader)

written headcanon style! enjoy ✩

(a/n) might be writing a part two of this with tighnari and some other male genshin characters so please comment which characters you would like to see! thank you for reading ♡

˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚

cyno ♡

he was never the emotional man, at least not around other people. but to you, he was just the hobby-chasing mahamatra who liked to play card games religiously.

the two of you met a long time ago, years before, during his time at the academia. The two of you had the same biology class. over the course of half a semester and more than a few group projects, you could say the two of you had grown relatively close.

close enough that cyno, being cyno, was comfortable enough to tell always tell you his most terrible jokes.

"hey. why did the biologist break up with the physicist?"

you had stared at him quizzically, not sure if this was a test or an actual question about the work, but replied anyway. "what?"

"they... had no chemistry."

"..."

"do you get it - because like chemistry is a subject of science and biologists study the science of life and we're in science class and-"

he'll never forget the way you laughed that day. the way your serious expression faded into one trying to hold back laughter, and the way your lips curved upwards instantly... he felt his heart skip a beat as you let out a quiet giggle under your breath. he didn't know why or what, but a wave of affection swept over him, almost engulfing him completely before he reeled it back, face tinted red.

"hehe, you're funny, cyno." you had told him, smiling sweetly, still struggling to mute your laughs.

"am i?" cynos crimson eyes were wide as he looked at you with a look of surprise.

"mhm!" you nodded at him, beaming. "oh, are you free after school today? we should meet up to do the homework."

cyno hid his face from you then, face burning and flushed red as he mumbled out a response. "i'm free."

"great!" you slid him a slip of paper, torn off of your biology worksheet. "i figured you should have my number. don't forget to text me, okay?"

"i won't."

and he kept his word.

al haitham ♡

it all happened after the school announced an academia-wide field trip to the desert, quite the far trek in hindsight. you were surprised the school even agreed to it. that aside, the entire school was excited about it, especially to people who had moved from the sandy dunes to the lively rainforest in order to study at the academia.

however, al haitham, your literature class partner, had stayed silent. you glanced at him several times throughout the entire day, but his expression didn't change one bit, nor did he even look from his book.

"al haitham." you called out his name, eyes sparkling curiously. "what are you reading?"

"a comprehensive look at sumeru's last 300 years." his answer was short and quick. you whistled, impressed that he was willingly reading such a text.

"are you going on the field trip?" you questioned, wanting to ask but not wanting to annoy him.

"i see no reason not to." yet another blatant answer. he turned the page absent-mindingly, eyes trailing from sentence to sentence. you decided to let him read, not wanting to bother him more than you already had.

just then, a group of students walked into the room, bustling about loudly and chatting amongst themselves not too quietly at all. if they noticed the two of you, they certainly didn't care. they laughed and shouted some more before taking the tables next to where the two of you sat and continued to squawk about.

you caught al haitham wincing at the noise, mutely noting the fact that he had taken off his headphones. you never realized the ashen-haired man had sensitive hearing, but now a lot more things made sense- especially the fact that haitham never ate lunch, like the other students, in the cafeteria.

hesitantly, you reached up and cupped your hands over al haitham's exposed ears. "is it too loud?" you whispered as quietly as you could, hoping that al haitham wouldn't be bothered by your question.

as you glanced down at his expression, his look of astoundment startled you. his emerald eyes sparkled with a look of tenderness that you would've expected as he gazed up at you, his diamond shaped pupils staring up at you and you only.

then, so subtle you almost missed it, he whispered, face flushed:

"thank you."

kaveh ♡

kaveh was always a friendly person, and that was certainly not an exception when it came to you. after a class, he would always burst into the room and come to walk you to your next one.

it come to a point where you would wait for him to show up after the lecture ended, purposely packing up your things slower as you scanned the door for any signs of the blonde man. and he always showed up.

always.

except, then he didn't. you waited until the students of the next hour began to come in, and then waited more until you were sure you were already late. yet, he still didn't show up. worry began gnawing at your stomach as you fidgeted through all of your classes that day, mind cloudy.

and he wasn't there the day after that, either. you missed his presence, his sunny demeanor, and his blushing reaction whenever you decided to tease him.

after about a week of the constant torture, he showed up again, grinning and raising his hand as if he was expecting a wave after your design class.

and you didn't just give him a wave. you dropped all your things instantly, eyes wide and teary, and leaped onto the man, sending both of you tumbling to the ground as you gave him the tightest hug you could manage.

underneath you, kaveh let out a shout of surprise, trying to get you off of him so he could get up, but he wouldn't budge. and he glanced down at you, confused at what had gotten you so worked up, he spotted glistening tears spilling down your face.

"wh-what's happened?" he questioned with a worried expression as he helped you up, tears still running down from your eyes. "did someone hurt you? who was it??"

"idiot..." you leaned against his figure, burying your face into his chest, not caring if you were to be late or not. "you left without a word...!"

"i-i'm sorry-!" kaveh glanced down at your figure clinging onto him, face flushed as his heart pounded so loud that he was sure you would be able to hear it. "i caught a cold..."

"don't leave me again like that, okay??"

"o-okay."

wanderer ♡

you had known him for a long time now, you would've admitted if you had no other choice but to be truthful. but it was a hopeless thing, since never once did he ever seem to notice you - much less care about you or your wellbeing.

at least he had never outright told you that he disliked your presence. it was a small comfort, but a comfort nonetheless.

so it was a surprise when he showed up at your doorstep, clothes and hair drenched from the relentless rain outside. he stared at the ground sheepishly, expression embarrassed as he spoke. "i... i didn't have anywhere else to go."

"oh." you had stood there for quite a bit, mouth rounded and eyes wide before returning to your senses. "you can come inside. i'll get you a towel."

the dark-haired man nodded silently, stepping outside as drops of water fell from the sides of his hat. you halted, whipping around. "leave that on the porch."

"but-"

"it's wet. it's going to be no help when we try to get you dry." seeing scaramouche's face fall, you cleared your throat. "but if you must, you can leave it in the mudroom."

"...alright."

you weren't even sure why he was sitting in your living room, a towel around him and sitting on your couch by the fireside, slowly sipping a hot mug of tea. he didn't seem to be thinking of speaking anytime soon, so you did it in his place.

"did you need something?" you questioned him after taking a long sip from your own mug.

"no, i just..." he shook his head. "can i stay here? just for a little while longer?"

the softness in his voice startled you, but you managed to give him an answer without stuttering either way. "you can stay for however long you want." at your response, you saw the male's eyes light up, along with his face flushing a bit too, an action that was not gone unnoticed.

"...i appreciate it. i want you to know that i really do. thank you."

masterlist ✩ next

2K notes · View notes

mandyvsfx · 11 months

Text

Puberty.

Tom!Peter Parker X F!Reader

warnings: smut, masturbation, that's all for today.

it is currently 1AM, I have to wake up at 5 and here I am writing smut.

We all went through puberty, it SUCKS. But just imagine going through puberty with heightened senses... Let's see what it's like to be Peter Parker for a day.

"The shy ones are the the worst" People would say, but you just couldn't even imagine Peter or Ned having dirty thoughts. In your silly little head, they were completely pure, you were sure of it. That being said, it wasn't a surprise that you never noticed the way Peter would check you out ALL the time, especially when you wore that cute little red dress, he would compliment you NONSTOP and you would never have second thoughts about it, you just thought he was being really nice.

However, your girl friends wouldn't fail to notice each time he would stare you up and down, or how he tried SO hard not to stare right into your boobs when you wore anything that had a cleavage to it.

"Parker was checking you out AGAIN. I mean, he's kinda cute, you should do him." One of them whispered.

"If I were you, I'd have already..." The other one said.

"Could you guys just shut the fuck up? We've known each other since we were kids! He is not like that." You looked at both of them, clearly annoyed by the comments.

"You mean he isn't like my ex? The type that cums and goes?- She laughed- Well, then you better be quick or else I might just need to steal him from you."

Why were you even friends with them anyways? All they cared about was what was trending and which boys they should hook up with. It was fun at first, but it got repetitive and suffocating over time.

Time passed, school day was finally over. You didn't had the chance to talk to Peter much, just a quick 'hi' and that was it for the day. But you were happy since May had invited you for dinner, so you guys would have all the time in the world to talk about mind controlling villains, all kinds of aliens from alterspace. -Yes, you knew he was Spiderman.- Or just about homework, like normal teenagers.

You got there, chatted with May for a while and sat at the table.

"What is taking him so long? PETER!- She shout, no answers.- Can you go tell him dinner's ready? I made pizza for us!" May said, licking her lips and giggling.

And so you did, walking fast towards his room, until you heard something. That something made you slow your pace a little.

"Oh- oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck... shit."

It was Peter, was he injured? Maybe he just got back from fighting a robber or something. What if he needs help? What kind of friend would you be if you just turned around and left him there, possibly hurt? And then you heard it. Your name coming out of the boy's mouth. Only then you realized those noises weren't because he was in pain, Peter was rubbing one out at the thought of you.

You still doubted yourself, thinking your mind was only tricking you. You walked in closer to his door, that was parcially open, you could see his back and... You just stood there, frozen in place. He was actually touching himself. You could tell he was close by how fast his hand moved, almost like he was running out of time.

"Can't... hmm... can't do this... anymore... fuck." Your name kept falling from his lips, moans followed by moans, he sounded so needy, so desperate.

The one thing you didn't knew about Peter's heightened senses was that it affected other parts too... There would be times that he would keep masturbating over and over again and couldn't seem to be satisfied, like nothing was enough. He had never felt so much desire for someone the way he felt for you. Seeing you all cutey in that little skirt you wore to school that day, he had to hold himself the whole period so that he wouldn't just fuck you raw in the middle of the class for everyone to see. You were such a tease.

"Gonna... fuck- gonna cum..." Peter threw his head back, your name flowing from his lips. He looked so cute, you couldn't look away, it was like you were hypnotized.

You watched as he laid down on his bed, breathing heavily, one hand on his forehead cleaning the sweat.

"KIDS? What is taking you two so long?" You finally "woke up" and realized what you just witnessed, taking a few steps back before rushing to the kitchen.

"Sorry, he's... coming. Yes, that's it, he's coming." You said, stuttering a bit.

Peter quickly got dressed and joined you and May at the dinner table.

"I fell asleep, sorry. -He looked at May, then glanced over at you.- I... didn't know you were having dinner with us. We could've walked home together." He continued, looking down, never meeting your eyes.

Did he knew? He saw you? What was going to happen to your friendship? Was it ruined?

A million thoughts were running through your mind, but it suddenly went blank when you felt a warm hand slide to your inner thigh.

You looked up at him, visibly confused.

He would never do anything with May in the house tho, but at least now you knew his true intentions.

#tom!peter smut #tom holland #peter parker #spiderman #spiderman x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x reader smut #spiderman x reader smut #peter parker smut #spiderman smut #marvel #marvel smut #the avengers #the avengers smut #spiderman homecoming #spiderman no way home #spiderman far from home

885 notes · View notes

pray4byron · 3 months

Note

Hi 👋

I saw your requests were open again! If you're up for it, would you do a fluff oneshot for Husk x reader?

Iike maybe they're hosting a ball and the Hazbin crew has to get all dressed up and the reader dances with Husk.

Kinda got inspo from the ballroom scene from Beauty and the beast.

If not, it's totally cool and I look forward to what you put out next! 😊

the timing is funny considering i’m doing the musical for beauty and the beast rn haha anyway this is so cute, and husk is my boo, so ofc i’ll do this for you!!

this gives off the vibes of one of my hazbin hotel oc’s so bad, so i’m sorry if the reader is a little more, detailed(?) than most of my previous works😭

i had so many inspo pics for each characters fits, so i put links to pics on the side for some of them, hope that it’s not too jarring haha

“I’m not too good at this…”

Husk x Reader

Warnings: Fem!Reader (i’m so sorry to my male or other identifying readers😭), Swearing, S1 Finale Spoilers, Chaggie (Charlie x Vaggie), Pentious x Cherri (idfk their ship name), platonic Rosie and Alastor

You checked your appearance in the mirror attached to your vanity one last time, you fluffed out your hair, which Charlie had been so generous to curl for you, and fixed up the edges of your lip gloss.

Ever since the hotel had been rebuilt, a lot more traction came along with it, and Charlie and Alastor insisted on hosting an ‘opening ball’ sort of thing for the reopening for the new hotel.

You dusted off your glittery, rose gold dress one last time (which for reference, looked like this), admiring the gems placed in your hair one last time, before hurrying out of your room, and down into the lobby, which was redecorated for this special occasion.

You see Charlie and immediately go to hug her, even though you got ready with her, as well as Vaggie, this is the first time you really got to soak in her appearance. Her hair was up in a French braid, it suited her oddly well, as for the dress? Her dress was very, well, her — it was princess-y, had some lace, but was a bright pink (which looked similar to this)

“Hey girl!” you said excitedly, as you pulled her to you, you could feel her smile softly in the crook of your neck, you pull back and grin at her, your hands rest on the sides of her arms briefly as she grins back at you, “You look awesome!” You said, she really did, she was very naturally pretty, there wasn’t an ounce of makeup on her face other than a few subtle coats of mascara, which you only noticed due to the lack of distance between you both. “Me? Pfff, stop. Look at you!” She says, giving a bashful giggle, more people begin to fill in, and music starts blaring, you both turn over to see Cherri over at the DJ booth — the guy Charlie had paid had gotten a bit too…high before the gig, so Cherri was a last minute decision.

“I should go, there’s a lot of, important people here I need to talk to, we need to catch up though!” Charlie said with a small chuckle, “Sure thing!” You reply before you begin walking around to find your next victim who’s going to listen to you talk their ear off until you get bored.

As you walk, you see a lot of folks that you wouldn’t expect to see, Rosie and Alastor are talking, Mimzy’s banging it out on the dance floor, and even Velvette decided to show up (the other two Vee’s weren’t invited for…clear reasons).

You see that Cherri took a break from DJing, as Alastor used some of his magic from his new and improved cane to have it do it on its own, after Adam snapped the last one in half.

Cherri’s chatting with Angel and Pentious, who which you never thought would come down for this after being redeemed, and excitedly you go up to them.

“Pen, Angel, Cherri!” You shout out as you approach them, “Hello, my friend, I haven’t ssseen you ssssince the battle! Quite the time, hehe!” Pentious said, giving you a side hug, which was a lot more awkward than you both would’ve liked.

“Heya, bitch!” Cherri said, nudging ya softly, as Angel gives you a small nod of acknowledgement.

“So, Pentious, how are things up in Heaven?” You asked curiously, a bit louder than you would’ve like, having to yell over the blaring music.

“Sssssplendid! I get back rubs every day!” He exclaimed. Odd. But that’s Sir Pentious for you.

Cherri and Pentious go off to have their own conversation, not wanting to third wheel, you more so turn your attention to Angel, who is looking quite bad ass. “Loving the look, Ange!”

He smirks, “You’re rocking your fit too, toots.” he says back, giving you a toothy grin. He had a baby pink blazer on, with a matching crop top underneath that pronounced his fluff, with matching pants and black heeled boots (like this.)

“You seen Husk anywhere?” He asked, glancing around the darkly-lit lobby for the grumpy cat. “Actually, now that I think about it, no, I don’t think I have. Why?” You said, beginning to go back into your memory to remember if you saw him last.

“Jus’ cuz, I know how you look at eachother, it’d be like a little romantic moment. Swaying on the dance floor, holding eachother, eh?” Angel said with a soft, playful grin, nudging your arm.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You say, a soft grin playing on your lips, yes, you do know what he’s talking about, a little too well.

“Sureeee…” He says, a knowing smile on his face, his head turns slightly. “There ‘e is.” He points to the far end of the room.

Husk is there, his shooing Niffty off as Vaggie goes to take her, a bottle in his hands.

“Go get ‘em, tiger!” Angel says, pushing you over.

“Hey.” You smile, Husk looks at you, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Hey, whatcha up to?”

“Not much, just trying to make a point to talk to everyone.” You say, chuckling softly.

His smile remains, before looking away, and then back at you, a…discombobulated look on his face. “Ey, I’m not too great this, ain’t done this shit since I was alive.” He starts, chuckling softly, “But, er…” He holds out his paw to you, a loving, affection smile on his face that tugs at your heartstrings, “Will you, have a dance with me?”

You grin widely, before taking his paw, “Yeah.. I will.”

As you both approach the dance floor, the music begins to slow down, as people take their partners in their arms and hold them close, cherishing a romantic moment.

Husk pulls you in by the waist with one paw, the other hand holding your own, as you both begin to sway.

You look around, too flustered to look at Husk, you smile at the sight of all the lovely pairs.

Cherri’s with Pentious, as he’s tripping over her as she chuckles softly in his embrace, Rosie and Al are sharing a lovely moment as friends, talking amongst themselves, and Vaggie and Charlie are holding eachother close, closing the gap to share an intimate kiss.

Your eyes skim over Husk, it was the first real time you’d seen him in, actual clothes…

He wore black trousers, with a fitted white buttoned shirt, with a red tie and suspenders.

Hesitation was written all over Husks face, you’d never seen him in such a state, he sighed before speaking, “Look, I’ve never been into all this,” he said, gesturing to the scenery before you both. “But quite frankly, my heart beats for you, and I’d really like to work something out for us.” He stated, a soft and… nervous(?) smile tugged at the ends of his lips.

“I’d… really like that.”

Before you both know it, the ball ends, and Husk takes you up to your room, you’re both slightly tipsy, giggling at simply the presence of eachother, Husk stops at your door.

He looks at you before pecking your forehead, smiling proudly to both himself, and you, “Sweet dreams, doll, I’ll see you in the morning.”

221 notes · View notes

badasbebi · 3 months

Text

the cupid project ➛ 2/2

part one

✦ pairing: bada lee x fem!reader

✦ summary: you and your long-term work crush devise a plan to win a company contest. in the end, you wind up going to extreme lengths to commit to the bit

✦ genre/au: fluff, smut MDNI!!, fake dating, videographer reader, bada's extra sweet here, slight friends to lovers

✦ word count: 7k

✦ warnings: isn't proofread. top!bada. bada carries a strap and im not talking about a gun. fingering.

✦ a/n: happy (early) valentine's day!

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

When the two of you arrive, the bowling alley is mostly empty, save for the JustJerk employees milling around and a couple of people hanging out in the arcade. The staff member at the counter gives you a warm greeting and directs the two of you to the lane your friends are at.

You walk up the ramp, scanning the area. The first person you spot is Hoyeon, who is sitting down, chatting with Minho. When she notices the two of you, her lips stretch into a wide smile and she raises a hand to wave. You return the gesture, and the two of you approach her.

"Hi," you smile, plopping down onto the seat next to her. Bada sits next to you, effectively sandwiching you between the two women.

"Hey, guys," she greets, a twinkle in her eyes.

"Did we miss anything?" Bada asks.

"Just the boys getting their asses beat by the girls,” Hoyeon says, glancing at the time on her phone.

"Sounds about right," Bada chuckles.

"Hey! We're not that bad!" Minho says, mock-offended.

"Sure, Minho," Hoyeon says, smirking.

"I don't know. I'm not that great either," you admit.

"Really? Why?" Bada questions.

"I guess I'm just not competitive," you shrug.

"Well you’re gonna have to start getting competitive. I can’t let you be the one who lets the boys get a hold on us,” Bada proclaims, nudging you.

“Why not? We could have a tie, then. Wouldn’t that be nice, Minho? For the boys to not be so embarrassingly outplayed all the time?" you suggest, earning a glare from Minho.

"Oh, shut up," he mutters, causing the three of you to laugh.

"Anyway, y/n, if you’re really that bad, don’t worry about it. I’ll help you out,” Bada promises, placing a hand on your knee. You try not to react.

"Okay, cool, thank you.” You nod, trying not to react.

“No problem,” she says, planting a quick kiss on your cheek. You were going to die before tonight was over.

You glance at Hoyeon, who, upon seeing the exchange, smirks. “So, I'm guessing you two are getting along well?"

"Yeah," Bada grins. "I think so."

"That's good," Hoyeon smiles. "I'm glad."

"Thanks," you reply, avoiding her eyes. You haven’t told Hoyeon that you were faking things with Bada. After the pictures dropped, Hoyeon was one of the first people to text you about it, sending you a flurry of messages full of profanities for not having kept her updated. You’re not sure why you don’t want to tell her the truth. You know she’d be able to keep a secret.

But a part of you knows that you’re enjoying the pretending a bit too much. If you fess up, it would make the reality of the situation more apparent, and the thought of that is starting to disappoint you more than the idea of losing the prize, altogether.

“Hey! There you two are,” Youngj shouts, breaking your train of thought. He makes his way toward you, followed by Redllic wearing a sour expression on her face.

Youngj stops in front of your group, placing his hands on his hips. "You're late," he pouts.

"Sorry, boss," Bada apologizes.

"It's okay. You're not the only ones," he says, sighing. “Are you guys gonna come play or what?”

"We're coming, we're coming," Bada replies, grabbing your hand and pulling you up.

“Eat em’ up, girls!” Hoyeon shouts with a whoop, followed by loud booing from Minho.

"Let's go," Bada smiles, squeezing your hand.

"Right," you reply, ignoring the racing of your heart.

Bada drops your hand, walking over to the rack and grabbing a bowling ball. She turns around, giving you a thumbs up and a cute smile. You roll your eyes and she laughs, turning back around.

As she steps forward to take her turn, you catch a whiff of her perfume. It's intoxicating.

The ball rolls down the lane and knocks down nine pins. You close your eyes, resisting the urge to shout. Why was this woman good at everything?

Bada throws the ball again, knocking the last pin over and finishing her frame with a strike. The crowd applauds, and she does a cute little curtsy, which you find unreasonably adorable.

You watch her, transfixed, as she approaches you.

"Good job," you say, a bit too enthusiastically.

"Thank you," she smiles, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Now, it's your turn."

"Alright, alright," you say, making your way over to the ball rack.

You select a red ball, testing the weight. It's heavy, but not too much, and fits comfortably in your hands.

"Remember, use the guide, aim for the middle, and throw slowly," Bada calls, and you nod, not turning around.

You position the ball against your chest, lining up your feet. Then, in one swift motion, you push the ball forward and release it.

The ball lands directly in the gutter, rolling down and colliding with thin air. You groan, watching the screen count up the pins you hit, or lack thereof. Zero.

"It's okay. Here, I'll show you," Bada says, placing her hands on your shoulders and guiding you over to the middle of the lane.

"First, you want to line up your feet." She says, standing behind you. "And then, you want to position your shoulders and the rest of your body."

You do as she instructs, attempting to focus on her directions.

"Then, the key is to relax and to keep your arm loose. If you tense up, your ball will go all over the place," she says, wrapping her hands around your bicep, massaging it a bit. "So, take a deep breath, and just throw the ball."

You breathe deeply, closing your eyes. You feel the weight of her arms leave your own, and then the weight of her hand on your back.

"Ready?" she whispers, and you nod.

"Okay," she says, patting you, signaling that she has moved.

You exhale, opening your eyes and swinging the ball forward.

You release the ball, and it glides down the lane, knocking eight pins down. You can hear the cheers, but the sound is muffled.

"You did it!" Bada exclaims, hugging you tightly from behind. You laugh, returning her embrace.

"You did most of the work," you say, grinning.

"You would have gotten it without me eventually.”

"Whatever you say," you say, not wanting to argue.

The rest of the night passes by quickly, with you and the girls absolutely destroying the guys, filled with laughter and smiles. By the end of the night, your stomach is sore and your cheeks are aching. When you’re not laughing with one of your coworkers, you’re with Bada, giggling at her jokes, listening to her stories, and being a part of her world. And in the moments when you think nobody is looking, she looks at you and smiles, her eyes soft and sparkling.

Toward the end of the night, you head to the bathroom, fixing your makeup and taking a few breaths.

After you finish, you exit the restroom, walking over to the bar and ordering a glass of water. As you wait, you notice Bada talking to Redllic, their faces stern and serious. You can't hear what they're saying, but something about their expressions is making you nervous.

"Here's your water," the bartender says, handing you the cup.

"Thank you," you respond, accepting the drink. You take a sip, trying to act casual, but you're not fooling anyone. You knew Bada and Redllic had some kind of romantic history, but you weren’t sure how significant it was.

After a moment, Bada and Redllic separate, heading toward different ends of the bar. Bada makes her way over to you, her features still hardened.

"Are you okay?" you ask, concern filling your tone.

"Yes. I'm fine," she replies, her voice stiff.

"Do you want to talk about it?" you offer.

"Not now. Let’s just have fun, yeah?" she says, a forced smile appearing on her lips.

"Okay," you say, reaching over and squeezing her hand. She squeezes back.

"You know, you look nice tonight," she compliments.

"Thanks," you smile, blushing slightly. "You do, too."

"Thank you," she says, and a small grin replaces her false smile. "So, are you having fun?"

"Yeah, I am," you nod. "A lot of fun. It’s a good thing you dragged me out here, seriously. I’m actually good at bowling now.”

"I mean, you weren’t that bad of a student. It’s not like you needed much help. I’m almost wondering if you faked being bad," Bada teases.

"What?! Of course not. How could you think that?" you exclaim, feigning offense.

"Mhm, I don’t know, you seemed pretty excited when I came to help you out. I think I felt your heartbeat over there," she laughs, poking your arm.

Oh shit. You’ve been found out.

You cross your arms, stubborn and determined to get yourself out of this. "Well, was it necessary to get so handsy with it? Do you do that with all of your students?”

"Only the cute ones," Bada says, staring you down.

Your heart races. This was escalating quickly. “Well, then, I guess I’ll consider myself lucky."

"You should," she says, a smirk appearing on her lips. “I could get much more handsy, if you wanted me to."

What the hell was going on? As much as you and Bada have casually flirted, it’s never gotten this bold. Whatever happened while you were in the bathroom must have seriously messed with her brain. Maybe she’s experiencing face blindness and thinks you’re someone else.

"Oh, how so?" you ask, playing along, testing the waters.

"I can show you," she says, placing a hand on the side of your face, brushing her thumb across your cheek. She moves her other hand onto your lower back, her grip light, yet firm. You shiver, leaning into her touch.

"What do you think?" she whispers.

"I think I'd like that very much," you admit, feeling her breath on your neck.

"Good," she murmurs, her eyes locking onto yours.

She closes the space between you, and her lips are on yours. She tastes like the fruity wine she had earlier and her chapstick.

You kiss her back, savoring the moment. Warmth and comfort is all around you, enveloping your senses. You pull away after a moment, catching your breath.

"What's wrong?" Bada asks, searching your face.

"Nothing. Everything's perfect," you say, kissing her again.

You don't care anymore. You just want her.

You move your hands, wrapping them around her neck and pulling her closer, deepening the kiss. Her hands trail up and down your sides, sending goosebumps up and down your arms. She bites your lip gently, and you gasp, tugging on her hair.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, you separate.

Bada exhales, fixing her bangs.

You stare ahead blankly, your mind fuzzy. But, through the haze, you feel a wave of euphoria rush over you, and you have to bite your lip to stop yourself from grinning. There was not a single part of you that would've guessed that you'd end up kissing Bada Lee upon joining Justjerk. Really, you were surprised she even gave you the time of day in the first place. You'd spent months trying to work up the courage to speak to her, and when the chance came, you almost choked and avoided her, too overwhelmed by the mere thought of speaking to her. But, as the old adage goes, life's full of surprises.

Bada twists her head to the side, staring at something, or someone with a furrowed brow.

"Hey, what's wrong?" you ask, placing a hand on her forearm.

"Oh, nothing. I was just looking out for Redllic," she replies, her frown melting into a small, apologetic smile.

The smile that you were trying to hold back disappears, replaced with a cold, hard pit of dread. "What about her?"

"She's over there," Bada nods, tilting her chin. You don't bother to turn to look. "You know that conversation you saw us have? She came up to me and accused us of pretending to get together for the money. Said there was no way we actually got together that fast. I, of course, denied it. Hopefully that kiss will shut her up."

"Oh. That makes sense. Sorry for not being more helpful," you apologize, your voice coming out hollow.

"Don't be," she says, her words rushed. "I didn't tell you about it because I didn't wanna worry you. But, we're in this together, right?"

"Yeah, definitely," you say, attempting to ignore the lump in your throat.

"That's good. Now, what were we talking about?" Bada asks, grinning.

Were you even talking about anything? You can't remember, too preoccupied with the dull feeling in the center of your chest. It's not like you were expecting Bada and you to be an actual couple. You were well aware that whatever relationship the two of you shared was just a facade. But hearing the reason why she kissed you was like a bucket of ice water poured over your head, reminding you of reality.

"I can't remember. Actually, I think I'm feeling a little sick," you lie.

"Oh, are you alright?" she asks, her voice laced with concern.

"Yeah. Don't worry about me. It’s probably something I ate. I'm just gonna head home, I think. You don't have to come with. I'll catch an Uber," you reply, forcing a weak smile.

"What? No, don't waste your money. I'll drive you home. Let me just grab my stuff," she offers, but you shake your head.

"It's really okay. I don't want you to miss out on fun with your friends," you insist, the ache in your throat growing. Why'd she have to be so nice?

"No, I insist. I'll drop you off and come back."

"Bada-"

"Y/N, please," she interrupts. "You're important to me. You're my friend. Helping you out isn't a big deal."

Her words simultaneously break your heart and fix it, and, finally, you give in.

"Fine," you sigh.

She grins. "Now, stay put," she commands, a stern expression replacing her worried one.

"Yes ma'am," you salute.

"Good girl," she teases, and you just stare, your face turning pink.

Bada walks off, and you stare into your glass, the ice having melted. After a moment, she returns, her jacket and backpack slung over her shoulder.

"Ready?" she asks, and you nod, following her out of the bar.

The night is cold and dark, and the stars are shining bright. The sound of the wind fills the air, and your footsteps seem loud, crunching against the ground.

You get to the parking lot and walk over to her car. Bada unlocks the doors, and you open the passenger door before she can do it for you, ignoring the frown on her face. You slide in, put your seatbelt on, and she turns the key, the engine roaring to life.

The ride home is filled with an awkward silence, neither of you sure of what to say. Finally, Bada clears her throat.

"Listen, y/n. Are you upset with me, or something? If I did or said anything to make you mad you, I'm sorry," she says, her voice tight.

"No, it's not that," you assure, and she relaxes a bit. "I'm just feeling sick. Like I said."

"Alright," she sighs.

You arrive at your house, and you unbuckle your seatbelt. "Thanks for the ride."

"Of course. I'm glad I could help. Goodnight," she says, and you nod.

"Night," you say, exiting the vehicle.

You head up the path, the wind causing your hair to fly in your face. As you are about to reach the front steps, Bada pulls her car back, reversing. She rolls the passenger window down, sticking her head out.

"Wait!" she shouts, and you freeze, your hand gripping the railing.

"What?" you call back, confused.

"I-uh...ugh," she exclaims, her forehead wrinkling. "I can't just leave you alone. Not when you're sick. Let me take care of you. Please."

You blink. You just could not get rid of this woman. "I'll be fine," you reply, shortly, turning toward your building again.

"At least let me walk you inside. Then, I'll leave," she offers.

You groan, stopping in your tracks with your eyes closed in frustration. It was too cold for this. "Fine," you mutter.

"Great," she says, and the relief in her voice makes you feel guilty.

"But only for a few minutes. And only because I know how persistent you are."

"Thank you," she says, and the sincerity in her voice makes your chest tighten.

She turns her car off, grabs her backpack, and hops out of the vehicle. You lead her into the building, and the two of you make your way up the stairs, eventually arriving at your door.

You unlock it, and the two of you enter. Your apartment is dark and silent, and the sound of your breathing is loud.

"Well, here it is. It's not much, but it's home," you shrug, flipping the light switch on.

"It's cozy," she smiles, and you can't help but grin, too.

"Yeah. Um, would you like some water, or tea, or anything?"

"No, thank you. I'm okay," she replies, adjusting her backpack straps.

"Alright, then," you say, standing in the entryway.

The awkward silence returns, and the two of you stare at each other, neither knowing what to do. Finally, Bada steps forward, closing the space between the two of you.

"Are you sure you're okay? You seemed pretty distant toward the end of the night," she asks, her features soft.

"Yeah. Like I said, not feeling great. Must have been the food," you repeat yourself robotically, not looking her in the eye.

She frowns. "I'm sorry."

"Why? It's not your fault," you shrug, avoiding her gaze.

"It is, though. Isn’t it? You're my friend, and I care about you. So, if something is bothering you, I want to know and work it out,” she pauses, a guilt-ridden expression overtaking her features. "If this is about the kiss...I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

Your stomach drops, and your eyes widen. "What? Why?"

"Because," she sighs, rubbing the back of her neck. "I took advantage of the situation. I should've just told Redllic to fuck off. Or maybe even asked you if you were comfortable with it beforehand."

"You didn't take advantage of me," you argue.

"Still. It wasn't right. I shouldn't have done it. I'm sorry," she repeats, looking at the ground.

"You don't need to be sorry," you insist.

"Really?"

"Yeah," you nod.

"Okay," she says, the crease between her eyebrows disappearing. "Well, then, I guess I should go."

"I guess so," you agree, not making a move.

She hesitates, staring at you. You stare back, your heart racing. She reaches out and takes your hand, giving it a squeeze.

"Goodnight," she whispers, her voice soft.

"Night," you reply, her touch burning your skin.

She releases your hand, turns around, and heads out, the door closing behind her. You watch her leave, your brain going a mile a minute.

You don't know what's wrong with you. It was just a stupid kiss. It meant nothing. But, despite all of that, the pit in your stomach won't go away, and the thought of her lips against yours replays in your mind.

Maybe you were wrong. Maybe it wasn't just a kiss. Maybe it meant everything.

Oh fuck it. Fuck it.

You open the door with a vigor that rivaled that of the Hulk's. "Bada," you call out, sprinting into the hallway.

A few steps down the hall, she freezes.

"What is it?" she asks, turning around, her eyebrows raised.

"Just-just, um," you stammer, your mouth dry. "Come back."

She stares for a second, then smirks. "Okay," she says, walking back with a pep in her step.

Once she reaches the door, she enters, and the two of you stare at each other, unsure.

"What is it?" Bada asks, her face calm.

"I-uh," you start, then swallow.

Fuck. Why was this so hard? Why couldn't you just be honest with her?

"What?" Bada urges, the smirk returning. You look at the floor, the wall, anything. Finally, you take a deep breath, and look her in the eyes.

"I wanted to ask if...you could maybe stay a little longer," you murmur, your cheeks hot.

She raises an eyebrow, her expression a mixture of amusement and disbelief.

"You sure?"

"Yes," you respond, a little too quickly.

She grins, the smirk replaced with a genuine smile. "Then, I will."

"Okay," you breathe, letting the tension flow from your shoulders.

"So, what did you want to do?" she asks, staring at your lips.

"I don't know," you shrug, not taking your eyes off hers.

"Hmm," she hums, stepping closer.

"Uh, did you wanna, uh, watch TV, or something?" you offer, your voice quiet.

"No," she replies, shaking her head.

"What did you wanna do, then?" you ask, your heartbeat fast.

"Something else." She mutters, and without warning, her lips are on yours again.

She wraps her arms around you, and you immediately melt into her embrace, her scent clouding your senses. Like last time, you wrap your arms around her neck. Her tongue slips into your mouth, exploring, and her hands run down your sides, sending chills down your spine. You let out a moan, and she bites your lip, drawing another from you.

Your hands tangle in her hair, and hers cup your ass, lifting you up. She carries you over to your bedroom, per your directions, and places you onto your bed gently. Her fingers graze your thigh, and goosebumps pop up all over your body. You pull away, and her eyes are dark.

"Do you want to do this?" she asks, her voice low.

"Yeah," you respond, and she grins.

She kisses you again, and her fingers inch upward, her hand sliding under the hem of your shirt. She traces your skin, leaving a trail of fire, and your breathing quickens.

"Can I take this off?" she asks, pulling at the bottom of your top.

"Yes," you say, lifting yourself off the bed slightly.

She slides your shirt up, and over your head, tossing it aside. She unhooks your bra and discards it, too.

Her eyes linger on your bare chest, and you watch her pupils dilate. You bite your lip, running your hands through her hair.

"Fuck," she growls, and she pushes you back down onto the mattress, her lips trailing from yours to your jaw, your collarbone, your neck, and finally, your chest.

She sucks and nips at the skin there, and you grip her hair tighter, eliciting a moan. She moves downward, kissing down your torso. When her lips reach the waistband of your jeans, she stops, glancing up at you.

"Do you want me to keep going?"

"Yes," you plead, and her mouth curls into a mischievous smirk.

"Okay," she says, and she undoes the button and zipper of your jeans.

She tugs them off and throws them aside, leaving you in just your underwear. Her eyes are on yours, and you're frozen.

"Please," you beg, and she lets out a deep chuckle.

"Begging already?"

"Shut up," you hiss, and she laughs, before her hands slip beneath the hem of your panties.

She pulls the material off, leaving you completely exposed.

"Fuck," she mutters, her eyes wide.

You squirm under her gaze, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "What?"

"You're so fucking sexy," she breathes, her eyes filled with lust.

"Really?"

"Of course. Do you even know what you're doing to me right now?"

"N-no," you mumble, averting your eyes.

"Look at me."

You obey, her usually warm puppy eyes now darkened into something wicked, capturing yours.

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes," you breathe.

"Good. Now, lay down," she commands, her voice firm.

You comply, relaxing your body. She climbs on top of you, her hand resting on top of your thigh.

"Do you still want to do this?"

"Yes," you affirm, nodding.

"Okay," she says, and then, her hand is between your legs.

Her fingers slide along your wetness, and your breathing quickens. Her eyes are fixed on yours, watching your reaction.

"Shit," you groan, as her finger presses against your clit.

"You like that?" she purrs, her lips ghosting across your skin.

"Mhmm," you moan, her finger circling the sensitive bud.

Her finger slips inside you, and you cry out, throwing your arms around her torso. She pumps slowly, and her thumb brushes against your clit.

"More," you pant, your body trembling.

"Of course," she hums, slipping a second digit into you.

"Ah," you moan, gripping her tightly.

She thrusts her fingers deeper, hitting that special spot within. You gasp, your back arching. You're so wet you can hear the squelch of her digits moving inside you, and you slam your eyes shut, overwhelmed. Her lips meet your neck, her teeth nipping at the sensitive flesh, and your moans are muffled.

"Bada, please," you whimper, her fingers curling against that spongey tissue, the sensation making your toes curl.

"Please what, baby?" she murmurs, her thumb rubbing against your clit, the friction making you shiver.

"Fuck, fuck, I'm close, please," you gasp, your walls tightening around her. "Make me come," you choke, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

"I will," she promises, and her fingers thrust harder, her thumb moving faster. You cry, the tension in your abdomen building.

"That's it, baby, come for me," she coaxes, and with one final brush against that sensitive spot, you shatter.

The orgasm rips through you, and you convulse, your vision blacking out. You gasp for air, trying to catch your breath. She watches you, a satisfied smile on her face as she caresses your sides with her other hand.

"Did you enjoy that?"

"Yeah," you say, breathless. "But you didn't finish," you frown, your eyes trailing to her still-clothed form.

"Oh, I will," she says, a smirk reappearing. She rolls over, grabbing her backpack.

"What are you doing?" you ask, sitting up.

"I'm not done with you yet," she answers, her smile devilish. You watch, transfixed, as she pulls out a strap-on and a bottle of lube.

"Oh," you exhale, your core heating. This women was going to be the death of you.

"This okay?"

"The fact that you're casually carrying around a strap-on?"

She smiles, sheepishly. "I like to be prepared."

"But, yes, that is more than okay," you say, licking your lips.

"Great," she says, unbuckling her belt and shrugging her pants off, revealing black boxer briefs. She steps into the harness, pulling the straps tight. She squirts some lube onto her hand, reaching for the dildo, but you stop her.

"Wait-can I?"

"Go ahead," she nods, giving you a smile.

You kneel on the bed, facing her. You gather some lube onto your hand, then coat the silicone. Your hand runs along the length, and your eyes are fixated on the fake cock. It's large, and ribbed, and the mere sight of it makes your thighs squeeze together.

"Like what you see?"

"Yeah," you whisper, looking at her.

She grins, her hands tangling themselves into your hair, pulling you forward. Your lips crash into hers, and she pulls away, her hands tugging your head backward.

"How do you want to do this, pretty girl?"

"I-I don't know," you stammer, flustered.

She chuckles, releasing her hold on your hair. "Lay back down."

You follow her orders, laying back against the pillows.

"Spread your legs," she commands, her tone firm.

You do as she says, your pussy aching. She positions herself in front of you, and leans forward, her lips brushing against your ear.

"Ready?"

"Yes," you sigh, wrapping your arms around her again.

She guides the dildo into you, and the tip teases your entrance, the cool silicone sending shivers through you. She pushes into you, and you gasp, the ribbed surface scraping against your walls.

"Is this okay?"

"Yeah," you moan, squeezing her.

She hums and begins to thrust, hard, the silicone stretching you open.

"Fuck," you cry, digging your nails into her back. Her mouth reaches your neck, sucking, and biting, the sensations overwhelming.

She picks up the pace, your bed squeaking in response, and your hips buck, the pleasure building.

"Oh god, oh fuck," you whine, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes.

"So beautiful," she murmurs, her voice strained.

"Bada, please, faster," you beg, your muscles tensing up.

"Fuck," she hisses, her pace quickening.

"Yes, yes," you pant, the coil in your stomach tightening.

"You gonna come, baby?"

"Yes, fuck, I'm so close," you moan, her words pushing you closer.

"That's it, come for me," she groans, her thrusts getting sloppier.

"Fuck, Bada," you whine, and you break, the orgasm consuming you. You scream as you ride the waves of ecstasy, her name tumbling from your lips. You cling to her, shaking, the intensity nearly blinding.

"Fuck," you whisper, the euphoria fading, and exhaustion taking over.

"That's it, good girl," she whispers, slowing her thrusts.

You let go, sinking into the bed, your mind hazy. She pulls out of you, and removes the strap-on, tossing it onto the floor. She lays down beside you, and you snuggle into her, your head resting on her chest.

"Fuck," you mutter, unable to form a coherent sentence.

"That was fun," she says, her tone teasing.

"Yeah," you sigh, nuzzling closer.

She strokes your hair, her fingers soothing.

"We should get some rest," she says, her voice low.

"Mhm," you hum, your eyes closing.

You feel her place a kiss on the top of your head, and a smile forms on your face. You drift off, a grin still on your face, and a certain someone's heartbeat the last thing you hear.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Bada was nowhere to be seen. After you woke up to an empty bed, you searched your house, convinced she was playing a prank on you. No trace of her, her clothes, her bag. You tried to call her, but her phone was turned off. It was as if she'd vanished into thin air.

And so, there you sat, in your apartment, where you slept with her, alone, wondering if you hallucinated the whole thing. Maybe, the stress of working at Justjerk, the pressure of living up to your expectations had finally gotten to you, and caused a nervous breakdown. But, no. She was there, she was real, and she'd given you the best night of your life. The best week of your life. So, where was she?

As the days dragged on, your heart grew heavy. Your calls went unanswered, texts left on read. You didn't even see her at work. The other teachers at Justjerk asked around about her, but the only answer everyone had was that she'd called in sick. You were worried, confused, and mostly hurt. What had happened? Did she regret it, and that was why she disappeared?

In addition to that, your deadline was approaching. People seemed convinced enough that you two were dating at this point, but it probably didn't look good to show up to the Valentine's Day party without your supposed girlfriend.

You're sitting at home, silently wallowing next to Hoyeon, who is lying on your couch after coming over to your house to edit because of her noisy neighbors. While you're aimlessly shifting your oatmeal around in its bowl, you hear her slam her laptop shut with an exhale.

"Y/n, is everything okay?" she asks, her tone concerned

"Yeah, I'm fine," you say.

She shifts on the couch. "Really? Cause it doesn't seem like it."

"It's nothing," you shrug, pushing the bowl away.

"Come on, you can talk to me."

"I just-," you start, before pausing.

"Take your time," she says, her voice gentle.

"I think something's wrong with Bada," you say, quietly.

"Isn’t she sick?"

"I don’t know. I don’t think so. I actually haven't seen or heard from her since, uh, last week. And she won't answer my calls or texts."

"Huh, that's weird. Why?"

"I-I don't know. She just up and left. We had sex, and the next morning, she was gone. Like she'd never been there," you confess, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

"Hey," Hoyeon says, reaching over and rubbing your shoulder.

"I'm sorry. I'm just-,"

"It's okay. You're allowed to feel this way. I mean, who does that to their girlfriend? That's horrible," Hoyeon huffs, a look of indignance crossing her features.

You cough. "We're not-we're not really dating. Well, I think we aren't," you admit.

She stops her ministrations. "What do you mean?"

"We-uh, pretended to date. To win the contest."

She blinks, processing this in silence. Then, she lets out a loud guffaw, the force causing her to slip off the couch and land on the floor.

"What's so funny?" you ask in disbelief.

"You-you are so ridiculous," she manages, her body shaking with laughter.

"Ridiculous? Why?"

"Do-do you not realize that the two of you have been pining over each other since the day you started at the studio?"

"Wh-what? No. We have not," you insist.

"Yes, you have," she giggles, wiping a tear from her eye.

"How could you tell?"

"It's so obvious! Listen, I don't know what kind of weird situationship you guys have gotten into but I don't think anyone is pretending to like anyone, here."

"But she left me!" you argue, exasperated.

"Maybe she was being stupid. Or embarrassed. Who knows? But, she definitely has a thing for you. She's been bothering the videographers forever asking for you. Were you the one who suggested you fake date?"

You blink. "No.”

She laughs again, picking herself up off the floor. "Exactly. Now, have you told her how you really feel?"

"What? No."

"Then, go do that! That's probably why she ran for the hills. Just go to her house and confess."

"I-okay. You're right," you say, standing up.

"Damn straight I'm right. Now, go get your woman," she grins, ushering you towards the door.

You give her a smile, and step outside, a new sense of confidence flowing through you. What were you so afraid of anyway? She wouldn't have done all that she did if she didn't care about you, right? You needed to find her, and tell her. Tell her everything.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

After driving to a random neighborhood and being hit with the realization that you had no idea where Bada lived, you receive a text from Hoyeon just in time with an address.

The sun was just beginning to set, and the sky was a beautiful gradient of blue, pink, and purple. You drive for a bit, eventually making your way to a more residential area, until you find yourself parked outside of an apartment complex.

You exit your car and make your way inside. When you arrive at her unit, the door opens before you can even knock.

"Oh, y/n, hi," Badi says, her voice raspy, her eyes wide.

She looks unlike herself. Her hair is unkempt, her skin paler than usual. Her clothes are rumpled and her eyes are red, like she's been awake for days.

"Hi, are you okay?" you ask, worried.

"I've been better," she shrugs, looking away.

"Can I come in?"

"Oh, uh, yeah, sure."

She steps aside and you enter. The interior is what you'd expect from her; tidy, and simple.

"Are you hungry?" she offers, gesturing towards her kitchen.

"No, I'm good. Thanks."

"Okay."

You stand in the middle of her living room, the tension growing by the second.

"I've been trying to reach you," you start, tentatively.

"Oh, yeah, sorry, my phone's dead," she lies.

"Really? Because, the first few times I called, it rang," you say, crossing your arms.

She sighs, and walks over to the couch, flopping down. "I'm sorry," she mumbles, burying her face in her hands.

"Sorry? For what? Leaving me alone in bed, with no explanation, not answering my calls or texts for the past week, and lying to my face?"

"I didn't mean to-,"

"Why'd you run?"

"Because I was scared," she says, looking up.

"Of what?"

"This," she admits, gesturing between the two of you.

"You're not scared of anything," you scoff.

"I'm scared of you, y/n."

"Me? Why would you be scared of me?"

"Because I've liked you ever since the day you walked into the studio. I wasn't lying when I said I think you're amazing. And then I didn't want to ruin the friendship that we built."

"So, you pretend to be my girlfriend, sleep with me, and then leave without a word?"

"I'm sorry. I wasn’t initially planning on doing things this way. But you brought up the fake-dating and I thought maybe if we pretended, that'd be enough. It wasn't, and I let my feelings get ahead of me. And, I'm sorry," she confesses, her gaze dropping.

You review that first meeting you had in the dance studio. For the first time, you realize that Bada actually didn’t suggest fake-dating you. You did. She just proposed that you approach things romantically, rather than platonically. Which could have easily been her attempt at asking you out.

Whoops.

You exhale slowly, sitting down next to her. "You know, it's funny. I was coming over here to tell you the same thing. You're really special to me. And, I didn't know how to express that for real. So, I thought, if I was in a fake relationship with you, then it would be easier to do that. Guess, I was wrong too," you say, smiling sadly.

"So, does that mean-,"

You roll your eyes. "Yes, Bada, I like you."

"Oh," she says, smiling, looking away again.

You bite down on your lip. "So, what are we gonna do now?"

She fully turns toward you, a hopeful gleam in her eyes. "I guess, we can start over. If you want. Go on a real date?"

"Sure," you reply, a warmth blossoming in your chest.

"Cool," she says, her expression brightening.

"Cool," you echo, the two of you grinning, staring at each other like idiots.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Please," you whisper, and she leans forward, her lips capturing yours. You close your eyes, sinking into her touch, the worries, and anxiety of the past week disappearing. Who would've thought that a silly team-building exercise within your company would have ended up leading to this? You almost wanted to ask Bada to pinch you, but, the feeling of her hands cupping your cheeks, and the taste of her mouth, was enough to reassure you that this was real-that the whole thing had been real the entire time. And now that you knew it was, you couldn't wait to explore it further, and discover more about the beautiful woman next to you, who has stolen your heart.

Or, maybe you should give that credit to Cupid. After all, the Cupid Project turned out to be way more successful than you, or Youngj, could've ever imagined.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Not.

"How did we lose?!" You nearly screech, watching Hoyeon and Howl stand in the middle of the room with a check in their hands.

Bada stares at them with a frown. "I don't get it either. Isn't Hoyeon a lesbian?"

Youngj appears out of thin air, sliding into your line of sight. More accurately, it is his bright red fuzzy sweater with pink hearts that captures your eye. "Irrelevant to the contest. Remember, this project was not meant to encourage new workplace relationships."

"But—"

"Nope," he pops the 'p', "You two are very cute, but you lost because you two idiots were already in love with each other, and were just too stupid to admit it. You didn't even need to be a part of the cupid project."

You groan.

"On the bright side, we have free heart-shaped sugar cookies in the corner. Congratulations, Y/n and Bada, on a job well done. Please don't break up, because I do not want to deal with any workplace drama. Goodbye." He disappears again, leaving the two of you staring at the ground.

You guess you were gonna have to say goodbye to that camera, as well.

Bada turns to you, offering a small smile. "Are you okay?"

You shrug. "It's alright. I didn't need the money anyway. I got something much better out of this whole thing."

She blushes, her cheeks matching the color of her plain red sweatshirt. "Ew."

"Oh shut up," you say, swatting her arm with a laugh.

She rubs her arm, her bottom lip jutting out.

You sigh, pulling her into a hug. She buries her face in your neck, humming. "Well, I guess I don't need to give you the gift I got you for today, then."

"Gift? Wait, what?" You say, shoving her away in shock.

She bursts into laughter, raising a bag that she's been holding silently behind her back. "Of course. I couldn't not get my girlfriend something for Valentine's Day. I've been hiding it the whole time. Here."

You grab the bag, opening it. You pull the gift out of the bag, and a soft gasp leaves your mouth.

It's the camera.

#bada lee #bada lee fanfic #bada lee fluff #bada lee imagine #bada lee x reader #bada lee x y/n #lee bada #street woman fighter 2 #swf2

279 notes · View notes

m-jelly · 3 months

Note

hi my dear jelly can I request a bad boy Levi x shy reader where Eren and Jean flirting with you and levi get mean and the reader gets fluster you decide the plot but kind of smutty please 🥺 ps love you're work

Naughty girl

Levi x fem!reader

Modern AU, tattoo artist Levi, shy reader, tattooed Levi, Levi has piercings, bad boy reader, dom Levi, established relationship, pet names, praise kink, fingers in mouth, fingering.

Levi sees his two tattoo apprentices flirting with you, his perfect and cute girlfriend. He tells the two off before dragging you off to his private tattoo room. He locks his door and reminds you who's perfect brat you are.

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird

Levi walked with his last booking for the day and talked with her about aftercare. He could tell she was trying to flirt with him, but he wasn't interested because he had the most beautiful and cute girlfriend ever. The love Levi had for you was so strong that he had a tattoo dedicated to you, it was a little bunny because you were his bratty bunny.

He made a note on some papers and whispered to the receptionist. He checked his diary and saw the woman was still waiting. He eyed her and frowned. "Can I help you?"

She blushed hard. "I uh..."

The receptionist chimed in. "Oh, Levi? Your girlfriend arrived while you were doing this lady's tattoo." She pointed outside. "She's having a chat with Eren and Jean."

The girl's shoulders dropped. "Girlfriend."

Levi slipped from behind reception. "Tch, those little shits are flirting with her." He stormed outside as both men were lightly touching you and complimenting your outfit. Due to you being so nice, you just smiled and thanked them. "Oi!" Levi slung his arm over your shoulders. "What the fuck are you two doing with my girlfriend? You should be inside practicing or you won't become artists. Now, get the fuck inside."

Eren blushed. "We didn't know she was with you, sorry."

Levi slipped his hand to your waist and yanked you against him. "She's mine. She's too shy and cute to notice bad flirting. Now go."

You gazed up at your boyfriend. "I'm sorry, Levi. I didn't know they were flirting with me."

Levi growled at you. "You are too sweet and innocent sometimes. Come with me."

"But Levi."

He grabbed your hand and pulled you into the shop and to his private tattoo room. "Don't move." He smiled when you stood there like a sweet little bunny as he locked his door. He turned to you slowly. "Little bunny brat."

You played with the bottom of your skirt. "Grumpy."

He moved closer to you with his tattooed hand reaching out. "Did you not know they were flirting?"

You shook your head. "No. Why would they? I'm yours."

He cupped the side of your face. "I love you, little bunny. You're my everything. You really don't know how beautiful you are." He bent his finger over your bottom lip. He smiled when you licked his finger and then bit his knuckle. "Good girl."

You sucked on his finger and mewled at him. "I'm good."

He dragged his finger over your lip and pushed his finger in and onto your tongue. He moaned as you sucked and moved your tongue against his finger. "I know you didn't know they were flirting. I shouted at them because I was protecting you. I worry about you."

You gasped when he pulled his finger from your mouth. "I know, Levi. I know you love me and I'm so shy sometimes that I just can't tell people to go away."

He ran his thumb over your bottom lip. "If anyone is bothering you, you tell me."

You nodded. "Yes. I will."

He tangled his fingers in your hair and leaned close with his lips almost touching yours. "You have such pretty lips."

"You should kiss them."

He chuckled at your words. "I will." He crashed his lips against yours then slipped his pierced tongue into your mouth. He moaned in delight when you shyly kissed him back. "I love you."

You shivered at his hot breath against your lips. "I love you too."

He held your neck and kissed you as his other hand dragged up your legs. "Can I touch you?"

You nodded as your legs started to shudder in anticipation and pleasure. You locked eyes with your lover and mewled as he delicately moved his fingers up and down your clothed heat. You gasped and felt yourself drooling with desire. You needed Levi's touch.

He dragged his fingers up and down into your panties. "Are you mine?"

You panted as Levi's warm fingers touched your clit. You gripped Levi's shirt and leaned towards him. "Y-Yes."

He rubbed your cheek and kissed you. "Good girl, my girl. Mine." He moved his fingers a little faster. "I love you."

You moaned. "I love you."

He pulled his fingers from you and lifted you up before lying you on his tattoo chair. He pushed his hand back into your panties and moved his fingers against you again. He leaned down and kissed you over and over.

You wiggled and rubbed your legs together causing Levi's hand and arm to be trapped. "Levi."

He pushed two fingers deep into you and started to rub your pussy walls. He watched you arch your back when his thumb moved against your clit. "Look at you, so cute and needy for me. You're my cute little bunny brat."

You gripped his shirt tightly. "I'm yours. Always yours."

He purred at you. "You always know what to say to me." He bit your lip. "Such a cute bunny. Your pussy is so hot and wet. You feel incredible."

You threw your head back as you felt your coil tighten. "Ah, mm, Levi."

"Cum for me, my love." He caressed your cheek and kissed you. "Show me how much you love this."

You clenched your toes tightly. "Mmm, fuck."

"Let go."

You bucked up when you felt the hot snap. You shivered in delight and went to moan out loud at your orgasm, but he crashed his lips against yours and moved his pierced tongue against yours. You hummed and felt your body slowly relax from your body-moving orgasm.

Levi pulled his fingers from your and held them before your face. He smirked as you squeaked a little. He stuck out his pierced tongue and began lapping up all of your sweet honey before your eyes. He hummed in delight before leaning down and kissing you.

You turned and rolled onto your side with your hands covering your face. "You're so naughty and bad."

Levi chuckled. "Isn't that one of the reasons why you love me?"

You nodded shyly and peeked between your fingers at Levi. "Mm. Yes."

He sat on the seat and began playing with your hair. "I love you."

You sat up and gazed at your lover. "I love you so much."

He leaned closer and kissed you. "I love you more." He tapped his forehead against yours. "You're everything to me." He let out a long sigh. "I wish I could make love to you right here and now, but we shouldn't."

You nibbled your lip. "When we get home."

He smiled. "Yes, my sweet bunny."

#levi #levi ackerman #aot levi #snk levi #aot fanfiction #levi x y/n #fanfic #levi x you #levi fanfiction #levi x reader #snk smut #levi smut #levi x yn #levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman x female reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x y/n #jelly fanfics

151 notes · View notes

zombisarchive · 3 months

Text

BELLYACHE

mdni. blurb. not proofread.

Farleigh Start x reader

warnings: angst, being called stupid, mean farleigh, no happy ending ?

Farleigh and I had been seeing each other in secret for almost a year. I’ve tried speaking to him about maybe making whatever we have into a real relationship. Every time I get shut down, “I don’t have time for that y/n” or “Don’t start again with that.” What’s so wrong with wanting to be public with him?

He dragged me to some party, it was almost 3 in the morning and not once as he came and spoken to me. What’s the point of inviting me if he’s going to ignore me all night! Luckily Felix kept me company. Felix was a true friend, unlike Farleigh who just uses me and abandons me when he pleases. Eventually Felix found himself a girl, he still included me in their conversation but he can clearly tell I wasn't having the best time. "Why don't you look for a guy to chat up?" Felix said loudly over the blaring music, "I don't know Fe, it's not my type of thing to do that at parties" He rolled his eyes, "You've got to have fun in some way! Anna and I are going upstairs, later!" Felix said as he took hold of the random girls hand, walking away with her. I was completely alone now.

I wandered around the party, hoping I could find Farleigh. Sadly, instead of Far, I found Ollie. I didn't speak much to Ollie but he seemed fine. He was sitting on a couch with a drink in hand. I go sit next to him striking up conversation, I noticed his face was flushed, he was probably wasted. "Ollie! Hey" He looked over at me flashing an awkward smile, "Oh hey..Farleigh's not with you?" Oliver's question caught me a little off guard, “why would he be with me?” “Oh just thought..i thought that girl he was with was you..” My heart dropped to my stomach, “He was with another girl? Where is he now?” Oliver let out a hiccup as he shrugged “I dunno..they walked that way in there” He pointed past me to a room with the door closed. I shot up from my seat, “thanks ollie.” I said bitterly.

A part of me knew what I was going to find behind that door, but the other part hoped it wasn’t going to be what I thought it was. My stomach was turning at the thought. I knocked on the door kinda hard, only to hear Far’s voice saying “Go away!” I knocked again and pushed the door open without waiting for him to say anything. I stood there in the door way seeing him fingers deep inside some girl. My knees went weak, I wanted to throw up right there. “What are you doing?..” I asked seeing Farleighs eyes widen, slipping his fingers out of the girl, watching as they compose themselves. My head was pounding. We were never officially together so why do I care so much?

I moved from the doorway, rushing myself out of the party. I couldn’t be there, not when I just witnessed that. I can hear Farleigh calling out for me, turning around i yelled “what?!” “woah- why are you upset?” “Why am I upset?” I shouted as i turned to face him, “You cannot be that thick!” Farleigh stood there shocked, we were getting stares from people arriving at the party. “I don’t know what your talking about! Stop being so stupid and tell me” Farleigh said clearly getting upset. I sighed in frustration, “You invited me out to this party and I don’t even get to see you all night! Only to find out from fucking Oliver that your with some girl..fingers deep may i add!” I yelled out as I did a hand motion with my fingers moving up and down. Farleigh scoffed at me, “Okay? I left you alone at party, big fucking deal.”

My eyes widen, as my jaw dropped, “Are you kidding me?” “what?” He said with a confused laugh. “How are you going to go a finger some bimbo when I’m right here!” Farleigh started to get the hint, he let out a frustrated sigh, “Why do you care so much who i fuck?!” He yelled out before his expression changing, he finally understood why i was so upset. “what exactly do you think we have going on here?” His eerily calm yet aggressive tone shook me to my core, I stood there unable to speak before stuttering out “I-I don’t know..” Farleigh rolled his eyes at me, “You clearly do..do you think we’re some kind of couple?” I shrugged, my heart was pounding, I felt nauseous. “Listen..we fuck. we’re fuck buddies, that’s all we’re ever going to be” Farleigh said sternly. My heart dropped, I know it’s all we’d ever be but I can’t help my growing feelings for him.

Watching as he took a deep breath to calm down, his gaze was cold and uninviting. “Go home.” With that he turned around stepping back into the part leaving me alone outside. I stood there in shock, tears welling up in my eyes, my lip quivering. Before I knew it, I was there crying. I began to walk to my car, sobbing uncontrollably. How could he be so cruel? Involving myself with him was a mistake. Why couldn’t we have just been friends and not friends with benefits?

I drove myself home, rushing inside my home, and flopping onto my bed, sobbing into my pillow. To Farleigh I was just another one of his toys. But for me, my feelings towards him were genuine. I longed for Farleigh, I needed him. He was everything I could ever want. A part of me hoped Farleigh would text me or even show up and tell me he loved me. But i knew that wasn’t like him. Instead I got a text from Felix asking me where I had gone and if I knew why Farleigh was upset. My stomach was turning, the bellyache I’ve had since the party wasn’t going away and it was all his fault. Screw him for being so perfect, and screw me for being such a hopeless romantic.

☆ taglist!

- @fedyascoffin

☆ requests open ! Taglist open!

☆ this was kinda bad sorry— but im so gonna write a smut fic w Farleigh, any reqs or ideas would be appreciated!! <3

#zombisfics☆#saltburn #fanfic #saltburn fanfiction #oliver quick #felix catton #farleigh start #farleigh x reader #farleigh catton #farleigh saltburn #angst

154 notes · View notes

ninaolive · 6 months

Text

Taskmaster S16E07 Recording Report

As promised to @pandaroboto here is everything I can remember.

There was an audience singalong to Wham's Wake Me Up Before You Go Go during the warmup, and later on Sue Perkins made a call back to it during the episode, but Greg reminded her that part wasn't filmed

Mark Olver asked who in the audience had never seen the show, and why they were there, and one of them was there with a friend who said he preferred NZ Taskmaster to UK (the entire room GASPED)

Mark also identified a lot of people visiting from overseas in the room (we were visiting from NYC but kept quiet). Someone said it was their first time in London and Mark said "hate to break it to you but you're in Slough".

Mark asked if anyone already knew who the contestants were, and everyone in the upper right gallery raised their hands. Mark started to scold them for going on Reddit, but then they pointed down at the table next to Greg's throne where he had left his cue card with all 5 names on it! Greg kept mentioning that even though he'd done 6 episodes already he still needed their names written down.

The cast intros happened so fast that it felt like we were all still cheering for Julian when they got to Sue. Later on, Lucy asked Greg "why did you skip me on the introductions?" so I guess the cast noticed that, too. She thought maybe it was for a bit.

When Greg did the "felt cute, might delete later" bit I felt like he was looking right at me, and it was terrifying/electrifying.

The botox bit Greg was so fond of that he kept bringing it up so that the editors would have no choice but to let it in the show.

I don't remember why, but there was a long discussion about the meaning of the phrase "chickens come home to roost". Lucy thought it was a nice thing like when your kids come home from university for Xmas. Sam said he'd heard it in a documentary about 9/11. Greg then had to say "let's get off 9/11".

My favourite bit was "here they all are flicking themselves silly" so I am happy to see that made it into the episode.

During the discussion about Sam ripping the head off the standee of himself, he said "I'd been watching a lot of beheading videos" and then immediately started apologizing and begging them to cut that line out of the show.

The moment when Greg put his finger in Alex's mouth to stop him singing had to be re-done a ton of times because Greg kept laughing and he blamed it on Alex "moving his tongue around" and Alex said "I can't help it!". It was like a fever dream.

The live tiebreak was a total mess, so much so that audience members started to shout suggestions on how to measure it and Alex had to shush them.

In all the breaks Greg interacted with us while Alex was doing stuff offstage but sometimes his mic picked up stuff he was saying to crew members. There was a long break while Lucy's final prize task vamping was set up where all four of the other contestants just started chatting with the audience too and that was nice.

They kept telling us we were a very attractive audience and that they might use footage of us in other episodes. At the end Alex even did a retake of himself saying something like "33 minutes, 34 minutes" from another episode, and then told us "so, look out for that bit!".

We were directly behind the couple who got engaged! At the beginning when she was in the bathroom, the guy handed us the envelope and asked us to slip it under her seat at the end. We were confused but then he explained. At the end, Mark told all the people he'd singled out as visitors from overseas to look under their chairs for a special prize, and she found the envelope we'd put there. I noticed that all the cast were standing off the to the right in the wings watching. She went up and sat in Greg's chair and opened the task and the guy proposed. Then Mark started pointing at us and the people around us and saying "you guys all knew!! They were in on it!" which was sweet.

EDIT: I remembered some more stuff! Since we didn't get any team tasks, they told us who the teams were and described Julian as acting as a "sort of carer" for Lucy & Sam lol

Sue tried to get David Attenborough to voice her prize tasks but didn't hear back from her emails

Someone asked Alex if there would be any more NMJ and he said “not till the next pandemic, so” and then did fingers crossed gestures with both hands

#alex horne #greg davies #taskmaster #julian clary #lucy beaumont #sam campbell #sue perkins #susan wokoma #no more jockeys

230 notes · View notes

writingsfromhome · 19 days

Text

Dos and Don’ts IV

A/N: hello my loves this final part to this fic completes the birth of one of my favourite fics I’ve written. Thank you for reading and enjoying it just as much—every like, comment, and dm meant the world <3

Parts: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

—————————————————

We have an extra day in Barcelona and the team is buzzing to enjoy their nightlife since we could sleep all day tomorrow. I’d visited here while I was a uni student so I give some suggestions.

Harry’s a little on edge the whole time. Earlier today some headline from a musician Harry worked with was taken out of context and thus took the internet by storm. Now he was being flooded with people wanting to know his thoughts and feelings. It was a hot topic.

With a joint effort of me, Jeff, and Graham, we tried to keep the spotlight on his Barcelona show. Well my role was mostly to screen Harry from seeing any further discourse online.

The show itself was one of the loudest I’d been to—I was glad I had my own ear protection. The tense Harry falls away and he’s electric on stage. Even coming backstage he’s on a high; he hugs the crew and thanks everyone like he usually did at the end of shows and disappears into his dressing room with Jeff. They look like they’re talking intensely.

“So,” Sarah slides in beside me. “We noticed you’re a bit different coming back. What’s happened?”

I try to play dumb but the girls keep pushing.

“Me and my fiancé ended things,” I confess. They gasp, Claire’s eyes actually fill with tears.

“Shh!” I shush them. “Keep it on the down low please I don’t want anyone to know.”

“But y/n why are you even here!? Is it because of tour! I’m sure Harry could have rearranged things-“

“No no,” I appreciated their support but I didn’t want to hash things out. “It’s just…I think it was a long time coming. God, I don’t wanna cry. I’m good. For now. And I want to be on tour I need the distraction.”

“I get it,” they sympathize. “We’re gonna make you forget so hard tonight.”

“Okay but don’t,” I look around us to make sure there was nobody else around. “Please don’t tell Harry. Seriously please. I don’t want him to know especially. I don’t want him to treat me differently or something.”

“Lips are sealed.” Sarah zips her mouth. “But we can all tell you’re off. It’s hard not to practically living together these last couple months. If he asks we’ll say…”

“Just say she’s on a break?” Charlie suggests.

“Yeah,” I shrug. “Things are complicated, I’m on a break, whatever that’s fine.”

The girls lean towards me and envelop me in a hug. It reminds me of my friends I’d said goodbye to.

“Thanks,” I say through tears.

And the girls hold me to their promise.

After we get dressed for the night—I chose a corset-style top and trousers—we head out. The sun dips below the horizon and the old city is cast in a warm orange glow that could inspire anyone who set eyes on it. String lights come on and music plays from various doors; the city is alive.

We tease each other about looking so glam as we wander the narrow cobblestone streets. Aside from the shows we all wore sweats and tees.

Every place we pass sets my senses alight. We grab tapas from a place that smells irresistible and chat over each other about tonight’s wicked show. I continue avoiding Harry by sitting as far away from him as I can get.

As we wander off in search of the club I can’t help but feel a twinge at how incredibly romantic the moonlit streets felt.

The club is loud and alive, the noise levels even feel normal after the roar of the last few of Harry’s shows. My mood starts shooting up steadily as I drink in the energy around me.

We join the crowd and I give away my worries and my annoyances to enjoy the music. I feel it in my chest and for a blissful moment I’m grateful for my whole damn life despite everything.

“Cute guy!” Someone shouts in my ear.

Charlie nudges me to one of the guys dancing nearby. “Get distracted!”

I shake my head no.

“Do it!” She cheers. It barely travels to me. She grabs Claire’s hand and tugs her, letting her in on the plan and they goad me into going for it.

I motion a drink. I’d need another shot for the courage.

We trail back to the bar and do a round of shots, and they grin with thumbs up as I hesitantly enter the crowd again.

The dude they pointed out is tall and beautiful. Like beautiful not even handsome. I get stuck looking up at him in awe, he wasn’t really my type. A tad too pretty boy but when he notices me looking he smiles and I’m won over. I couldn’t deny a good smile.

“Hey!” He turns his body to me. At least I think he say hey.

“Hey!” I shout back.

“Que pasa?”

“What?!” I couldn’t hear a single thing. What did I expect.

He smiles and takes my hand that had been anxiously playing with the edge of my top. The other has a hand splint that I’d received in Madrid. Apparently I sprained my fingers.

The stranger wriggles both my hands to loosen them, raising his brow at the splint. I laugh.

He asks in my ear but I don’t understand. It sounds like a question, something bylar. When I scrunch my brows he laughs, “Dance! We dance!?”

“Dance!” I laugh. He was cute! “Yes! I want to dance with you!”

“Vamos,” he pulls me in. I understood that at least.

I used to do this in uni, I think. I should be able to do it again.

He teases me a little because I’m so tense. His hands knead down my back to my waist to get me to relax. It feels nice, being touched by a man that looks like he was carved from marble but filled with music.

I begin to find my rhythm and sway with him, eventually letting go completely. He compliments me as I start to move with him and pretty soon I’ve channeled my 20-year-old self. It feels pretty spectacular.

When his lips ghost my cheek I don’t protest. Right now, I felt good. Everything was on the back burner’s back burner and I felt grounded in this nighclub with this random stranger who was paying attention to me, just me. And it’s just us. And it’s just temporary. And I feel good.

When I turn around, my back to his chest, he moves my hair to the side and kisses down my neck. It felt good.

I run my hand up into his hair and he moves lower murmuring foreign words on my skin, our bodies still dancing in the same language, his hands still gripping my waist and my hips. I feel blissed out.

It ends in a split second.

“What are you doing?” Harry’s suddenly tugging me towards him. His mouth makes the words I just fill them in with his annoyingly bossy voice.

“Hey man,” the guy I’m dancing with tries to get in between us.

“What are you doing!?” I snatch my hand away from Harry.

Harry puts his hand on my partner’s chest and says something to him, maybe in Spanish. He looks at me with puppy dog eyes and I look at Harry. What had he said.

“What did you say?” I ask. I try to call back my dancing partner but he just salutes me with a smile and fades into the crowd. No wait, I’m being dragged away.

“Y/n what are you doing out there?”

“What am I doing?” I shout. “What are you?! I was having a nice time with that guy what did you say to him?”

He walks away, further back into the edges of the club. There’s a few people milling about with a number of them involved in heavy makeout sessions.

Harry turns to face me finally. “You’re engaged y/n, Claire and Sarah said things are complicated at home is that why you’re doing this?”

“What!” I throw my hands up, tears prick my eyes. What the fuck was his problem! Since when did he care? “Why do you care?! Yes, things are complicated and I was getting my mind off of said things—what is your issue? You want to drag me back here and remind me of how shitty things have been?”

“This isn’t the way,” Harry insists. “You don’t even know that guy!”

“Whatever I’m over this convo.”

I turn to leave but Harry grabs my hand, the one in the splint, and pulls me back.

“Sorry,” he lets go of the splint. Then picks it up again. “Look. I’m worried about you. This isn’t you, you’re not the girl that goes home with another guy when your fiancé is back at home! I just don’t want you making any regrets.”

“Oh is that it,” I step towards him so my hand isn’t so outstretched. He stands still but on my second step he inches back. “Since when did you get a high horse huh? Don’t tell me who I am and who I’m not. You barely know me! If I want to make decisions I regret I can do that. They’re mine to make.”

“No. Y/n, as mad as you are don’t go home with a stranger.”

“As if you don’t!” I scoff. “What’s your real agenda here? What’s going on?”

“Nothing!” He insists.

“Why do you suddenly care so much about my chastity?”

“It’s for your own good!”

He’s lying. I know he’s lying and I don’t know why he pulled me away from my beautiful Spanish dance partner but I was actually relaxing and now he’s put me right back into this crazed and tense headspace I kept finding myself in.

Fine, I decide. I could make him regret it.

“Really? You care about my morality that much?” I ask.

With my hand flat on his chest I’ve pushed him further into the wall behind him. He watches me with a guarded look.

But I want him unguarded, vulnerable. The same way he’s made me feel. I lean in, “Are you really worried about the technicalities of me cheating on my fiancé?”

I hover a half foot from his lips. Finally his eyes flicker down to my lips and I know I’ve got him.

I slide my hand up his chest and when my hand inches up the skin of his throat his eyes grow unguarded and heady with lust. He doesn’t push me away. He doesn’t say no.

Hypocrite.

I drop my hand.

“That’s what I thought Mr. Styles.”

I watch for a wonderful moment as the lust clears from his eyes and he realizes what happened. Shame, embarrassment, resignation, and then anger.

I spin on my heel and head away from him. He could deal with the consequences of his actions all on his own.

I’m half-afraid he’ll come after me but luckily I make it out of the club alone.

“He’s such a dick,” I say more to myself. Just to get it out because I’m pissed. “Who the fuck does he think he is!?”

My night is over. I just want to take this all off and forget about it. Maybe I can lock myself in my room and raid the mini-fridge, get drunk and cry myself to sleep. Those seemed like the best options right now.

I take an uber to the hotel. As I walk up to it I notice a weird crowd outside. For nearly 2am I wasn’t expecting this and my instincts kick in that this wasn’t normal. Especially when I notice all the camera straps.

“Excuse me,” I ask the front desk. “Why are there a bunch of paparazzi outside?”

“Is there?” The man behind the counter asks. “Sorry we will tell them to leave. Are you staying with us?”

“That’s a privacy concern out there, and a concern with your staff because they’re here. How do they know who’s staying here?!”

It seems to dawn on him I wasn’t just asking out of curiosity. He promises me he’ll get management. In the meantime I call Jeff and explain the situation. He starts to panic the way I hated, looking for something to blame. He calls Graham who sounds like he’s driving in nascar. It’s a very noisy and over-stimulating conversation.

“Call Harry!” Jeff orders. “Tell him he cannot go back to the hotel no matter what! Fucking vultures man!”

“Y/N,” Graham says in a calmer voice. “You need to go back to where Harry is with some sort of disguise. A hat or sunglasses. That sort of thing-“

“It’s night.”

“Yes night. No glasses. Book the closest hotel you can find. Tell his band they can come back, but to go through the back. They might get spotted but they’re trained on dodging questions. That will keep the vultures there waiting for Harry and we can pick you two up back to the airport tomorrow morning. Where’s after this?”

“Glasgow,” I bite my nail as I think. I had to call Harry asap. What if he was on his way back. “I gotta go now to call him though. Talk later.”

I hang up and call Harry. He picks up the second time.

I explain the situation and he reacts the same way as Jeff, swearing and cursing the papps. I tell him what I was going to do and tell him to go right back into the club. To pass on the word to the team even though I was going to send them a text.

I head up to my room and grab what fits in my bag. I didn’t have Harry’s room key so I decide he’d have to wear my hat and head back out. The vultures stay waiting, now just a few feet further away from the entrance.

I speak briefly to management—I figured Jeff could talk to them and give his classic earful.

On the drive I find a nearby hotel to the club and collect Harry to get him there. We’re too tense to talk when we meet up. Once inside again, I tell him to sit in the lounge while I go up to the desk.

Act above it all, I channel a rich bitch. We needed privacy and we needed nobody to know Harry was here.

“Hi I need a room.” I say.

“Of course, how many night will you be staying with us.”

I glance back to see where Harry sits. He’s in a wingback chair that’s mostly turned away and with his hair stuffed in the baseball cap you can hardly tell it’s him.

“Just a night. I need your best room please.”

“Absolutely,” the woman smiles and I feel bad for only giving a tight-lipped smile back. I wait as she clicks away, finally looking back to me with a slight frown. “So miss unfortunately we are very booked tonight. There are a couple events going on in the city making things very popular.”

“The best room will do. Preferably large.”

“Well,” she hesitates. “A lot of our larger rooms are taken um. I can offer you a bed with one king, it is a bit smaller because it’s by the elevators. I also have one with a queen that is tucked away in the corner with a better view.”

I wanted to be as far away from Harry as possible but by an elevator was asking for trouble.

“Well, I’d rather stay far away from noise so we’ll take the queen.”

“Is that just you or…” she glances at Harry.

“Yes. Two. We’ve had a rough day of travel he’s just resting.”

I hand over ID and my card, trying not to balk at the total. At least I’ll get reimbursed.

“Do you have any bags?” The concierge swoops in as I get the key card.

“No! No. Like I said, bad travel day. We just need somewhere to sleep and we’ll reunite with the bags once they arrive tomorrow.”

They leave us alone after that. I hoped it was because I’d been standoffish enough and not plain weird.

The elevator ride up to the 8th floor is stony and I spend the spare second to text Jeff and Graham the hotel’s address.

The room itself is pretty sub-par and the adrenaline of getting Harry here safely wears off.

I drop my bag by the door and pull out my toiletry bag.

“I don’t have clothes for you to change into, I didn’t have your room key.”

“Yeah. S’fine. I’ll just sleep shirtless unless that bothers you.”

We stare at each other for a tense moment.

“I’m fine with that, you’re the one with the high horse.”

After doing all this for him I wasn’t going to be easy to deal with if he wasn’t going to be easy to deal with.

He chooses to ignore me.

“How the fuck did they know I was staying there? We were under a-“

His phone rings and he answers. Sounds like Jeff.

I use the time to go to the bathroom and finally take off the makeup. I realize I should have grabbed my pjs from my bag too. I take my hair down and massage my scalp with my fingers, letting myself calm down despite the aggressive voices outside.

“Yeah whatever. Keep me updated.” I hear. Great. That was done with.

I leave the bathroom and Harry’s still pacing the floor.

“You’re gonna wear the carpet down if you keep doing that.”

He stops and looks at me, his eyes trail down my body.

“You didn’t bring yourself a change of clothes either?”

“You wish,” I head for my bag again and grab the tee and shorts. “I just forgot them out here.”

“Do you always have to be so snarky?”

Oh, so he wanted to fight. Good news for him, so did I.

“Depends. With you? When you’re being a dick? Yeah. I do.”

“It’s really quite unbecoming.”

“Is it?” I mock his accent. “It’s not proper for a lady to be snarky?”

“I don’t sound like that. You just never let anything go.” He continues.

“I never let anything go?” I repeat.

“Yeah! Ever!”

“What do you want me to let go?” I ask.

“Everything. You’re bothered by everything just let it all fucking go.”

“No like specifically what should I let go?” I turn on him and with each question I stalk towards him. “Being treated like trash by you? Being told I’m replaceable and unnecessary? Getting bossed around about who I can and can’t dance with because you suddenly decide to be the morality police!?”

“Jesus take it down a notch y/n.” We’re fuming as we square off. “I’m not your bloody fiancé.”

“And thank fuck you’re not!” I throw the clothes in my hand on the bed. “You’re my employer Mr. Styles and I’ve been nothing but a good fucking employee for the last year! I try to keep my patience and do everything I can to do my best! You’re the one always trying to blur lines! You’re the one always getting in my damn business when I don’t pay you to!”

With every accusation I poke my finger into his chest and it’s like literally pushing buttons. His face gets stonier and stonier until I’m sure he’s going to crack.

“You wanna know what your fucking issue is?” He swipes my hand away.

“Oh sure tell me, wise Harry Styles who definitely has no issues at all. Tell me.”

“This. This is your fucking issue,” he spits. “You’ve always got such a temper on you! I’m not blurring any bloody lines I check up on you and you get all offended over nothing!”

“Over nothing?” I ask. I laugh sarcastically and walk away from him. I was seeing red. “Over nothing?”

“Yes! I don’t do shite and suddenly you’re trying to bite my dick off.”

“You fucking wish,” I turn on him. “It’s crazy you don’t realize what an absolute jackass you are! We should be refunding all those fans who’ve come out to see you because the man they’re paying for is a fake! You’ve treated me like nothing and embarrassed me countless time-“

“Embarrassed you,” he scoffs.

“Yes!” I go on. “What do you call what you said on our way to Paris huh? You can be so cruel! So if I have a temper it’s justified because you’re one of the worst people I’ve met!”

“What did I say?”

“Are you kidding? You’re going to make me repeat it?” He was crazy. He was depraved and absolutely insane. Or he just hated me.

“I’m not playing a game just tell me!”

“You said I could have skipped the whole tour and nobody would notice.” I say the words that had looped through my head. And of course, he has the audacity to look surprised. “Thanks. A lot! It makes it even worse that you were so casual with your cruelt-“

“You need to stop being so sensitive,” he has the nerve to say. “Then maybe you can manage your temper.”

“I can manage my temper any time but you’re moody like a pre-pubescent teen and that looks to be a lifetime fucking problem!”

“What’s your fucking problem Y/n! What is your problem with me!? Why do you still work for me if you are this angry all the time!”

“I’m not this angry all the time, you just makes me this angry! And I hate you for it!”

“Then quit!”

“Maybe I will!” I had to. After tonight and this blowout I had to. How could I work for Harry like this.

“Great! Then you can take your problems with you.”

“Don’t gaslight me,” how dare he. “You’re not innocent in this! You create my problems and blame me for being this way.”

“Whatever y/n.”

“No.” I wasn’t letting him off the hook. I get in his face again. “Why did you stop me tonight? Why did you keep me from doing what I wanted tonight?”

“What? I told you I was looking out-“

“Bullshit!” I cut him off. “That’s a bullshit excuse, I want to know why!?”

I feel like I’m made of flames and in desperate need of a lobotomy. How could one guy make me this crazy. How could it all revolve around him.

“I was doing it for your own good! But clearly I understand why it’s so fucking complicated with your partner-“

“Don’t you dare talk about him,” I seethe. I was mad. Fuming. I want to get physical, I wish I could throttle him or at the very least access one of the pillows from across the room and smash it to the floor. I want him to see how angry I am because my words are twisted with every angle Harry could find. I wanted him to admit to something he’s been skirting for a long time. “Tell me.”

Harry stares at me with hate in his eyes and I know I have the same look. I wasn’t going to let him get away.

“You don’t even have the balls to admit it,” I poke. “Is this why you’re so hard-headed to anything I say? Because you can’t even admit something like this to yourself?”

“Just shut the fuck up y/n and stop being so mental.”

“I refuse to shut up. I want you to talk.”

His breathing gets faster and I watch him flex his hand. He was as angry as I was. Good.

“You’re a fraud. And I hate you.” I step into his space. Our bodies are a hair’s breadth away from each other’s. I want to show him how mad he makes me. I want to do something. I want him to admit this thing he’s been dancing around. It makes me so mad!

When he starts to shake his head at me I lose it. Instinct takes over where I want to physically show him how angry he was making me. I grab his face in my hands and push my mouth against his. I meet teeth.

But it doesn’t take long for him to respond. To correct the unadulterated anger with purpose.

He pushes back, kissing me harder whilst pushing me against the wall. I feel sandwiched, my chest crushed against his and I bite down on his lip trying to get back some control.

My hands are all over him, grabbing his shirt, running through his hair, pushing under his shirt to touch skin. Harry does the same, pulling at my hair and lifting me onto him.

Our tongues clash together, his hand grabs my ass, squeezing and moving up. His hands feel hot on my skin, his metal rings an icy contrast. Neither of us want to give up control. We keep fighting, just now with our bodies.

“Why can’t you ever just let it go,” he traces his teeth over my collarbone. It all feels too much.

In response I push him back, he stares at me for a heated second before we crash into each other again. We don't care where we are. All that mattered was here and showing the other who was in control. Who hated who the most.

Harry pulls away, his mouth a deep pink from our fight. His eyes are half lidded, his pupils dilated. I can tell he wants this but a part of him hesitates.

"We're doing this," I commit, not taking my eyes off his lips.

"I’m doing this," he growls and lifts me up, any hesitancy washed away. I wrap my legs around him, not thinking about anything but what I was going to do.

He whirls me around and deposits me onto the bed, and his body covers mine while his mouth attack my neck.

He wasn't gentle or slow, but then again, I didn't want him to be. I pull off his shirt, not wanting anything between us, not caring that my nails would leave marks down his back. Leaving something permanent on him sounded exactly what I needed.

I tug on his hair as his teeth come down on my chest. I feel heated as he swears, “Teasing me with this top all night was a fucking sin y/n.”

“Fuck off,” I gasp as he figures out the row of clasps at the front and the icy rings of his fingers presses against my sternum. I grit my teeth, “I didn’t wear this for you.”

His abs contract as he pushes himself back up, his eyes dark as his hands find the clasp on my trousers, undoing them with ease and tugging them off. His other hand comes back up to tilt my chin up.

“D’you really hate me?” He asks.

“Yes,” I respond with zero hesitation.

He moves his body, covering mine with his own again. My breath catches in my throat as he presses his lips to my neck, slowly moving down. He drives me crazy with anticipation and I wriggle up to keep up the pace but he holds me in place. I let out a moan as he kisses my inner thighs, his fingers gripping the tops of them. I'm squirming under his hold, the heat pooling inside of me.

“Do you hate me?” He asks again.

“Yes,” I cry, not wanting to relent to him.

“Good,” he says and that’s the last thing I remember.

The rest is a tangle of limbs, an out-of-body sensation, and seismic wave after wave coursing through my body. It’s unlike anything I’ve experienced before; the fury we felt with each other fuzes to the passion of the moment and it blitzes every damn thought out of my head.

Hours later, or maybe the whole night later—I don’t know but all I do know was that my body was spent and I was barely hanging on.

“I can’t,” I plant my hands on his shoulders and nearly pitch forward just from pausing. His hand splays on my back, keeping me in place as he turns us around.

“Okay?” He asks low.

I nod, grateful that he was taking over.

And after riding out what I know would be my last wave he rolls off of me, and we lay there just trying to catch our breaths.

After a few minutes, I sense him tilting towards me, his eyes on my face. When he stares for so long it becomes obvious, I look back at him.

His eyes are not the same ones that started this mess, they’re breezy meadows of green compared to the icy sea glass from before. But it’s not surprising. With each round and each minute we spent with other tonight, things had grown softer. Not gentle, but softer.

And as we look at each other with the awareness that the anger had bled into the threads of these tangled sheets a long time ago, we’re left with something neither of us want to distinguish. At least I don’t.

His gaze holds something too real for a place like this and I quickly look away and back at the ceiling. I feel his eyes on me a moment longer before he himself turns away to stare at the same ceiling.

“Y/N,” someone suddenly calls my name, tapping my cheeks with a gentle pat. I have to pull myself from the depths of wherever the fuck I just went to open my eyes and look up, at Harry. He looks concerned and asks me a question that I don’t register—I was truly out of it. I must have dozed off.

I push his hand away and grab the closest piece of clothing to wrap around myself in which ends up being a sheet. I take myself to the bathroom to clean up.

I hardly recognize the girl in the mirror. My eyes are blown out and my neck looks like it was rammed by a bull. I can hardly look at the rest of me. I would need to buy something high necked before we got picked up tomorrow morning and use all the concealer I had. I know I marked every inch of him I could find too.

I had never felt that level of passion with anyone. It was unnerving.

My knees collapse under me as I sit on the toilet and try to count the tiles on the opposite wall, just to come back to earth. To my body.

I sense a shadow under the door after I’m in there for a while, I watch it move from one side to the other and then move away. I wait longer, nearly falling asleep there before going back out.

The bed looks a right mess and most of the duvet is twisted to the side. I don’t bother with it, I use the sheet I’m wrapped in and crawl right into bed. Harry seems to have fallen asleep too but as I near sleep I feel the bed dip and the heavy weight of the duvet drapes over me.

I don’t have enough clarity or energy tonight to think about what any of this meant but I know I was right about leaving.

***

We return to London on a Wednesday morning and nearly kiss the ground. Harry was still playing two shows here but getting to go back home instead of a hotel room was enough to make us weep.

I didn’t really have a home to go back to. I’d been thinking about that a lot as the tour took us closer and closer to London. I had texted Gray yesterday and we agreed I could crash there until this weekend to get my stuff together.

London had a metaphorical grey fog over it in my mind. Nothing felt appealing about it and the only thing on my mind these days was home—my childhood home.

I already knew I was going to give in my resignation letter to Harry after tour but I had a 3 week period under contract. I don’t think I could afford a hotel for three weeks and staying with any of my friends is out of the question.

These thoughts kept me preoccupied.

It helped me not to think about that night though. I avoided Harry unless it was for work, returning to the solitude of my first few months working for him. He does the same: curt and avoidant. I know others notice but nobody dares to ask.

It was the most intense thing I’d done in my whole life and that was saying something. There was a way that Harry got under my skin that nobody else could. And it was hard to find a balance after the scales had shifted so far in that direction.

I felt like I had to block it out until I could have space to process it. And yet memories still seeped through when I was quiet for a moment too long or when he’d walk past me with the same cologne as that night and I’d catch a whiff. I was doubly sure this chapter had to close.

When I get back to the flat on Wednesday Gray has vanished as he promised. He told me he’d drop by that evening to talk. Surprisingly, I felt calm about it. I don’t know if it was getting all of that ferocious energy out that had been churning for months, but I feel level-headed and I appreciate the space to myself.

Gray texts me before he arrives. Like this wasn’t the flat he was now paying for alone.

I know what he wanted to talk about—we were all supposed to go to Harry’s last show at the o2 since I had tickets for everyone. Josie was stoked and based on the way she’s been texting me leading up to the day I don’t think she knew. Gray confirms it.

“So,” he rubs the back of his neck. He looked nice in a beanie and corduroy jacket. I wonder if any of the effort was for me, then vanish the thought.

“So,” I echo.

We stand awkwardly across from each other—him propping himself up behind the couch and me leaning against the dining table. Like we needed to get as much furniture between us. Like we hadn’t shared a bed a few weeks ago.

“We should sit?”

“Yeah,” he attempts a laugh and sits on the sofa. I choose the closest chair and turn it to face him. “Yeah. Um, I don’t know how you feel about Saturday. But I haven’t told Josie yet. I haven’t really told anyone.”

I nod, “Me too. Not really. People at work think we’re on a break.”

“Right. Good.” He says. “I’m not tryna lie to people but I don’t really want to get into it…”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “So Josie?”

“I’ll let her know once…once you move out?”

Move out. Of this flat. It’s been home for nearly 3 years.

Gray had surprised me with it when he found it—I had been broke and only been able to pitch in for utilities and groceries but he’d been gracious. He’d been supportive once. But I guess his support had boundaries too. I didn’t entirely blame him for that.

“Sounds good. Or later, maybe when she’s done her exams.”

He leans back on the couch, arms spread over the back and sighs as he studies me. “Yeah of course. I should’ve thought of that. You’re always good at that stuff. She’s gonna be gutted.”

I nod. Not sure what to say to that.

“So you’ll be out on Saturday yeah?” He asks after a while. It seemed both of us had a lot on our minds. But his question stings a little.

“Yep. I’m off for most of the week so I’ll just pack things up. Uhm, with Josie and whatnot I guess we’re still acting like a couple? Will that be weird?”

“Yeah. It will be but we’ve got no other option.”

“Right.” I respond. His voice grows an edge I’m not a fan of. “Well. Thanks for letting me stay here. If you need anything else I guess you can grab it now.”

I want to ask how he’s doing, who he’s staying with, and just hold his face one last time to really remember. But his cold apathy grows like frostbite over the room and creeps into my heart. I always thought where there was love there would always be love but I’m not as sure tonight.

I stay busy and when I can’t sleep at night; I map out a dream, an exit plan home. I write up my resignation letter, I look at flights and rentals and talk things out with my family, I cancel wedding and couple shit, and grieve a fair bit.

On Friday afternoon, my only formal shift this week, I head to Harry’s with an anxious weight in my chest and a buzz in my head from the hope. Hope that this chapter of my life could end soon, and I can head home and recuperate and plan out what my life was going to look like.

Harry’s on a call when I get in. He spares me a glance but I head to the office with my stack of mail. Today was mostly for some housekeeping/admin but I hope to avoid Harry for the most part like I’ve done since that night. My letter sits like a bar of gold in my bag.

I hear him move about the flat. I restock some pantry items, and we speak as little as possible. Going with him to his meeting was my final task for today so I decide it’s a good time to hand in my letter.

I find him sitting in the studio, tapping a pen against the table.

“Mr. Styles?”

“Hm?” He drags his eyes away from his screen to look at me.

“So we’re heading to your meeting in 10. Before then I just wanted to hand this in.”

The envelope stays outstretched in my hand and he eyes it, not taking it.

“What is that?”

“Can you just take it?” I shake it a little, like a bag of treats for a puppy.

His muscles move one inch every ten seconds, that’s how slow he is to sit up in his seat and finally take the letter from my hands. I almost let out a big sigh of relief. The process was finally in place.

“What is it?” He asks again, tearing the corner and down the side like he usually did.

I wait for him to unfold the thirds before answering, “my resignation letter.”

His eyes scan the sheet left to right right to left and when he looks up at me it’s hard to say what he’s thinking.

“Is this a joke?”

“No? Obviously not? I’m handing in my 3 weeks. I’ll also email a copy to Jeff and you.”

“Why are you doing this?” He stands, his tall frame rigid.

“Why? Because I’m…I’m quitting? I think I’ve learned everything I could here a-and it’s time to move on.”

By here I don’t mean working for Harry Styles and co but just here as in London. I’ve learned a fuck ton of life lessons here, and it was time to process them elsewhere.

“Is this to get back at me somehow? I don’t understand,” the papers crinkle in his fist as he grips it tighter. “Do you want a raise? Can we talk about this?”

“No.” I say and even though there’s so much more I could say I think that sums up my answer.

He looks puzzled, then annoyed. Just then my phone buzzes. The car was downstairs.

I grab my laptop and we head down. I was coming along to take minutes and then head home. In the car I reassure Harry,

“I plan on wrapping things up in the next three weeks and making sure everything is set up for an easy transition. I’ll leave continuity notes and reach out to people I regularly communicate with to break the news. The next couple months are pretty easy anyway coming out of tour and going on holiday so there should be plenty of time for the new PA, whoever your hire, to catch up.”

He doesn’t say a word. It reminds me of our first drive to the studio together. How naïve I was. How things changed.

He continues staring out the window, resting his face on his fist. I remember my teeth dragging over that jaw. I blink the image away; this was why I had to go.

When we get to Graham’s office Harry tells Jeff, “we don’t need minutes.”

Jeff looks over at me for answers and I shrug. I guess I came here for no reason but at least I had my laptop to work.

“Uh y/n please come i-“

“She’s fine working out there,” Harry cuts Graham off. Graham looks offended, his gaze drawing between Harry and I. Again, I shrug. I wasn’t leaving today I don’t know why he was acting like it.

For the next hour or so I sit at a spare cubicle and do just as I said in the car. I type out lists for upcoming interviews and studio days. I send emails for information to note for whoever the poor person was to replace me.

I had been keeping the Dos and Don’ts updated over the last year and it feels like a baby the way it came together with so much thought. I was almost sad to part with it.

Nobody tells me the meeting is over. The door simply opens and Harry breezes past.

“I’ll be in the car.” He mutters. Any faster and I would have to hold down the papers around me.

When he’s gone beyond sight, I turn back to the open door.

“What’s the matter with him?” I hear Graham asking inside.

“You keep pushing him,” Jeff responds with irritation. “That’s not his brand Graham.”

“Well that’s a different tune. Prior to this you were singing my praises with these new ideas.”

“I don’t know. Something’s been up with him for…a while-“

“Since that article isn’t it?” Graham references the Harry Styles slander when we were in Spain. Little did they know other things had also happened.

“We dealt with that article.”

Shit, I think. Has he been any different? I think I was keeping too much distance from him to notice.

“Y/n,” my name snaps me out of my thoughts.

“Mhm?” I’m beckoned to the meeting room. “Yes?”

“Find out what’s wrong with him. Or better yet just convince him to be a bit more alive at his last show tomorrow with his usual charm? He hasn’t been his full capacity the last few shows has he?”

Shit. “Um. Burnout?”

The two men look at each other. They make a face like that couldn’t possibly be why. I tell the men what they want to hear, that I’d try to find out and get him back to his charming self (yuck) before joining Harry in the car.

“Jeff and Graham aren’t all that happy with you,” I say when we start driving. Harry was giving me a lift home. “They’re insisting you do it right at your final tomorrow. Be your charming self.”

He grunts in response, head facing the window again. Was he allergic to look forward in the car or something?

“Are you coming?” He asks after a good ten minutes of silence.

“Tomorrow?”

“Mhm.”

“Yeah. I gave my extra tickets to…my fiance,” my brain fumbles my words as it remembers what he was and now is. And the lie I had to keep up. “And his sister and her friend.”

He just nods in acknowledgement, somehow stonier.

When the car pulls up to my familiar building I thank his driver and begin my shimmy out but Harry puts a hand to my knee to stop me. His touch sears right through my stockings and he must feel it too because he slides his hand back.

“Answer this,” he looks at me for the first time tonight. Wow, this really did feel like my first week on the job.

“Sure,” I reply.

“Is it because of that night?”

It’s the first time it’s been mentioned, and his gaze burns brighter than a forest fire. It’s mesmerizing and I can’t look away.

Wait, he wanted an answer.

“It’s because of a lot of things,” I answer truthfully.

He clenches his jaw. Leans back in his seat. The seatbelt reverses to hold him in place again and he’s no longer looking at me. I take that as my cue to go.

***

Josie bursts into the flat dressed to the nines in a groovy floral jumpsuit and boas in her hand. “Don’t worry. I have one for each of us.”

Her friend trails behind her in an equally 70s inspired look.

“That’s what you’re wearing?” Josie judges her brother’s hoodie and jeans. “You’re lowering the vibe Gray do better. Y/n? Why didn’t you brief him?”

“I did!” I eye Gray. “Don’t blame me.”

This was way more awkward than I thought. Or I really was not as good of an actress as I wished.

“What am I supposed to wear?” Gray asks. “I’m not wearing a jumpsuit.”

Josie rolls her eyes. “Y/n please drag him back and find a decent tee or something?”

“Yes ma’am,” I take Gray by the arm and take him back.

“This is kinda weird hey?” I whisper when we close the door.

“I don’t really like it either,” Gray scratches his head. “But it’s for the best.”

I nod and then louder announce, “Well it’s Jo’s night so find something a tad more retro?”

We end up with a red tee and find a belt to tie the look. Josie hugs her brother with thanks when she sees it.

I had on a pair of black bellbottoms paired with a blank tank. My hair was in spacebuns and Josie plucks a few boa feathers to accessorize my hair. It’s cute.

We head off and I have to make a conscious effort to remember my mannerisms with Gray before all this. I feel woozy while I slide my hand into his on the ride there, as Josie snaps our pics on her disposable, as she tells us to get one of us where Gray’s kissing my cheek and she’ll save it to show our kids. It makes me sick.

He keeps an arm on my waist as we walk. I want this night to be over so bad but every time I look Josie’s way I perk back up a little. I wanted her to enjoy this.

And she does. I’m sure she’s lost her voice by the end of the concert. At one point we drift away a little and breathe easier to drop the act but when she’s back Gray wraps his arms around me from behind and we act like a happy couple. Again, I felt sick.

Being in Gray’s arms held none of the spark it used to. I just feel awkward and sad.

At one point Harry looks my way, I don’t know how he spotted me in such a big crowd. It’s between songs and he looks at the group I’m with. I give a pathetic wave and he nods ever so slightly, his gaze sliding off soon after. Gray’s arm tightens around my shoulder and my heart gives a squeeze in response. I’m reminded: this era was ending.

The band told me to meet them backstage at the end, to join in on the final-show celebration. Josie and Gray would wait at a local pub and with the way Josie’s Instagram stories were glowing I could imagine her sitting there uploading it all.

“I couldn’t have done it without any of you,” I catch Harry saying as I slip behind stage with my pass. “I know I’ve not been the easiest to be with but you all sit in my heart. This is our Euro tour, concluded.”

Somebody pops bubbly and I congratulate the whole team as they drink. They insist on going out for proper drinks and I’m denied not going. They tell me to invite my guests to party with them and I know, based on where we were going, Josie was going to flip.

Juniper, a club that gets us all in on Harry’s face card, is opulent and lively on the inside. Josie is buzzing about with her friend—Gray had opted to go home, claiming he had early morning sessions. Josie didn’t think twice about him, but we pretended to go back and forth with a final warning from Gray to Josie to behave.

“He’s a broody one,” Charlie comments on Gray as we chatter while we get drinks. “Sister?”

“Yeah. Doesn’t know yet though so,” I put my finger to my lip.

“So no Barcelona dancing tonight?” Sarah teases. I laugh and tell them to keep me tamed. “We gotta do some shots with the team though where is everyone?”

We gaze around the room and manage to get everyone together. After one round of shots and another that Harry forced on all of us I feel the tension I’ve been carrying with me most days slide away.

We end up sticking together as a group and dance together, laughing and cheering each other on. Even Harry’s in a cheery mood—I suspect the alcohol. I catch him watching me at one point and when I raise my brow he takes my hand and spins me in a friendly twirl. I trip on my wide-legged pants and he catches me from behind. With my back to his chest I have the urge to turn around and kiss him and feel the peculiar comfort I had received from him before. That thought drives me away from him again. Despite the tight knit group there’s too much between us to even attempt being close.

I call it quits when Josie finds me and announces she was going home. I hug the newfound family I had made over the last few months one final goodbye, knowing I might never see them together like this again.

***

Jeff’s reaction to my news surprises me the most. He’s visibly upset and tries to sell me anything to stay. I tell him there was nothing to keep me at my job but I would rely on him for a good reference. I think it’s the first time he’s ever reassured me.

Between Harry and I it remains curt. Sometimes even edgy. I post my own job replacement and Jeff keeps me updated on potential candidates. By the time my last week rolls around I’m host to a roil of emotions.

The first week homeless, Charlie had let me crash on her couch and promised not to say a word to anyone. I didn’t want to overstay my welcome and so I had checked into a hotel and called it home for now.

I’m on my way back home to the hotel after being at Gray’s. We’d invited Josie over for dinner now that her exams were over and she’d been suspicious from the start.

We had told her the truth and she refused to believe it, hurt and betrayal in her eyes as she looked at me and realized she had been kept in the dark for the last week. I felt worse then, than I did when Gray and I called it quits.

I promised her a lunch together this week to talk more. Just because I was out of Gray’s life didn’t mean I had to be out of hers. I thought I could also tell her then that I was leaving to go back home.

On my second last day at work, Harry sends me on an errand near the end of the day. When I get back there’s a small group of friendly and familiar faces waiting to surprise me. I’m touched by the gesture, and I try to corner Harry to say thank you but it feels he avoids me at every chance, always in a larger crowd.

I finally catch him while I’m heading out of the bathroom and he’s heading down the hall.

“Oh hey,” I step in his way. He looks cornered. “I just wanted to say thanks for throwing this.”

“Yeah,” he gestures it was nothing. “It was Jeff’s idea.”

Ouch. I hide the sting. “Well. Thanks regardless.”

He nods, staying mute, but his eyes speak a thousand words—just none that I can read. They stay trained on me, communicating whatever.

Slowly the furrow between his brows eases and the sharp edges of his face give way to a softened expression. I’m scared to move in case I break the trance and don’t get to hear whatever his racing thoughts spit out. Just when it looks like he’s about to say something, a guest turns the corner up the hall.

“Anyone in the toilet?” It was Mitch. Damnit.

“Nope,” I step out of the way, inadvertently brushing Harry. A shiver runs up my spine and I try to act casual but he stiffens beside me. Was it that awful being around me, jeez.

I give up. If he wanted to continue staying moody, so be it. I leave to go back to the party and don’t look back.

My final days in London are hard. The same way I arrived, I go: alone and unsure of what’s ahead.

I always thought here was where I would stay forever. And maybe one day I would return but there was a little too much friction between me and the Capital.

I finish work on an unremarkable note after going through processes with the new hire, and dotting all of my i’s. Harry is nowhere to be seen and I’m gone before he gets back. I’m frustrated that he’s behaving this way but there’s also too much between us for the simple goodbye I yearn for.

I visit all of my old favourites, have one last drink at my old local pub somewhere in between Gray’s flat and Harry’s. I shed a lot of tears on my pilgrimage through the city’s veins. I promise the paved and cobblestone roads I would be back one day.

The walls of my lungs ease open on the flight home. Still, tears cascade down my face silently as the plane sleeps. Eventually I do too. When I wake the sky is filled with bright blinding sunrise, and American soil peeks out below me: I was finally home.

••••••••••••••••••••

Present (2 years on):

My heart flutters seeing Harry here, I chalk it up to anxiety. But it annoys me that despite all the distance and the growth, he still had an effect on me.

Harry’s head turns and before I can be smart about it our eyes lock. His eyebrows raise ever so slightly before his face falls into a nonchalant facade again. I don’t even want to know what my face looked like.

Then he gets the nerve to smirk, hang his head, and then grab his drink and walk towards me.

“If I had a cross I would be holding it up right now.” I have to shout a little so he hears me before he gets to me. He was an emotional vampire feeding on all of mine.

“Now why’s that?” He continues towards me. My emotions swirl through me. “I thought time heals all wounds. Why the unfriendly welcome Mrs. Duran?”

I grit my teeth at the name, he was still filled with poison. “Right, the timeless wisdom of clichés.”

“I like to think I’m pretty timeless.” He smiles.

“I’ve found that time may heal wounds, but scars make sure you never forget.”

“Well, scars aside, you look good,” he moves on and I feel like an idiot the way I was used to feeling around him.

“Of course I do.”

“What are you doing in London? Last I checked I was getting a reference check from America.”

I debate not answering him but I was trying to straddle the line between indifference and confidence. It was like walking a tightrope.

“I’m in London for a little while,” I give vaguely.

“Ah,” he smiles and damnit I forgot how handsome he could be. How handsome could then turn into seductive so quickly. I had to remember: Still a devil. “Are you looking for a new employer? Because I could be hiri-“

“No.” I cut him off. “I finally have a job I love so I’m good.”

Something flickers in his eyes but surprisingly he stays quiet.

“What are you doing here?” I ask. I sort of wish I still had a drink in my hand, they feel awkward and clunky and I want to avoid playing with my hair. Gah. “Global star drinks alone at his local bar?”

He laughs but I can tell I hit a minor nerve. “Here I’m just a local. Always have been—it’s nice to be anonymous for a little bit.”

I roll my eyes. I didn’t believe that for a second. He loved his fame and everything that came with it.

Plus I used to come here all the time, I would’ve known if my employer was a local too. He was lying for some reason.

“Mr. Styles if there’s one thing I remember about you, you’d choose death over anonymity.”

“Firstly,” he leans in and I get a whiff of his usual cologne with a hint of malt. “A person can change a lot. So maybe you don’t know me as much as you think you do-“

“Oh I don’t think anyone can change that drastically in only a year-“

“You seemed to have.”

His words take mine out of my mouth. I hadn’t changed, not really. I’d always been this y/n but the further I got away from him the more reassured I had gotten being that y/n.

“And secondly,” he continues before I could think of a response. “You no longer work for me. Harry is fine.”

The smile he throws me is almost sweet if I didn’t know the cruelty that could hide underneath. I don’t return the smile, I only raise my brow and look back down at my phone. My cell service hasn’t gotten any better and I’d missed the wifi password.

I could connect to Harry’s wifi, ask him so that I could order an uber.

I’d rather van gogh my ear.

I weigh all my options and consider the last one again. I look up to see what Harry was doing in the silence and find him looking at me. A shiver runs up my spine as our eyes clash. So much history and words unspoken fall in between. A very specific night flashes through my mind. I wonder if it does him because he looks down first. Damn.

“So I’ve gotta get going,” I say.

“Let me buy you a drink.” He says at the same time.

He laughs awkwardly and repeats, “One drink?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“We’re not drinking buddies.” I pull my purse to my chest, wanting to hop off this stool and run home if I need to. Put as much distance between myself and this man that was put on this earth to confuse me.

“Then what are we y/n?” He asks, his voice silky smooth as he leans in. The voice that whispered sweet nothings into my ear in my worst nightmares, nightmares of cotton sheets and heated limbs, of passion and shame.

“Ex-employer,” I point to him. I point to myself, “Ex-employee.”

“Exes have drinks together,” he grins full well knowing the double meaning.

“Never ends well,” I eye the door.

“Just as stubborn as I remember.”

“And you were saying people change?” I raise my brow.

He drops the smile and sighs, “I’m not gonna be able to convince ya am I?”

I shake my head. He should know that by now.

“Can I walk you out at least?”

I shrug, couldn’t hurt.

“What is this?” I ask as he opens the door for me.

“What?”

“This? Why are you trying to be so friendly?”

“I thought we could be friendly exes.”

And when did he get so cheeky.

“Something weird is going on,” I watch him stay in step with me as I walk up. With no service I was going to take the tube. “And I don’t like it.”

“Nothing weird is going on don’t get all paranoid on me.”

“Don’t call me paranoid! You never call a woman paranoid.”

“I thought that was conspiracy theorists?”

“Nooo. You’re being weird.”

"Alright, no need to get all Freudian on me. Just trying to be a decent human here."

I shake my head, somehow in our exchange my face had decided it was okay to smile. To forget what he put me through and remember instead that when things were good between us we actually got along.

Damnit. The devil knew how to play tricks. I wipe the smile off my face while he continues walking with me.

“So…what have you been up to?” He asks.

“Working, you know me.” I say after trying to figure out what his angle was but unable to find one.

“Oretta Smith I hear, how did you manage that?”

“I’m just that good Harry,” I say. His name is weird in my mouth. Sure I called him that in my head but I usually used Mr. Styles. I can tell he feels the same with his quick glance my way.

“How do you like that?”

“Yeah, she’s a great employer like I said. Very professional. Lots of flexibility.” Each praise is a knock to his ego. But it was all true, plus with Winnie joining the team I had a friend my age that felt great.

But there was also a darker side called burnout that I barely admitted to myself. Ever since we landed in London and I had time to orient my new self in a city that molded my old self, I felt the familiar singe of purposeless. But I keep it to myself of course.

“Great.” Harry responds curtly. “What about yourself? How’s your life, are you finally married?”

My instinct is to raise my defences and chew him out, he must know Gray and I were done what with me living in the States.

And yet, when I peer past the defences and take a long hard look at him I realize he is asking earnestly and without another angle.

We’re nearing the tube now. I hesitate in lying or telling the truth.

“We broke up,” I choose to confess. I peek at him and he looks surprised, even sorry.

“I didn’t know. Sorry.”

“I’d hope not,” I reply. “Otherwise you’d be an asshole calling me Mrs. Duran.”

He huffs an awkward laugh.

“Anyway this is me—

“I can give you a ride home—wherever that is right now?” He asks.

We’re stood in front of the glass doors. There’s not a lot of people this time of night. And as tempting as his offer was, the way he looks at me right now sends poisonous butterflies to my stomach and I think it’s best I get home for the big day tomorrow and not make any regrets.

“I’m not too far,” I lie. I point a thumb to the doors behind me. “I’m just gonna…”

“Yeah. Yeah right.” He’s awkward, which is a first. He clears his throat and stuffs his hand into his pocket. I watch him with a removed sort of curiosity. Eventually he coughs out his question. “How long are you in London for?”

“A few weeks,” I reply.

He finally meets my eyes again—and there goes my stomach. He was supposed to have zero effect on me, I was supposed to stay mad at him. Why was my body betraying me? Why did it continue to loop memories from that night and remind me of the things he whispered in the dark?

“A few weeks,” he murmurs back.

His gaze travels over my face openly, no longer holding back the barely-hidden expressions from before. Because I told him Gray and I weren’t a thing? Because I was entertaining whatever bullshit this was?

“Yep,” I nod. Awkward. Nervous. Cautious.

“My number’s the same,” his eyes snap back to mine. “If you want to go for that drink later.”

“Harry,” I try to break it to him another way. I wish I could just say I never want that drink. “I don’t think-“

“Don’t think,” he cuts me off. He laughs when I furrow my brows. “I mean, I’m right here for most of the next few weeks. When you feel like you want to have that drink just give me a call. Or text.”

Why, I want to ask him. Why, after all this time, after everything that happened? And it’s like he reads my mind in the silence.

“I know you left on a pretty poor note.” He shuffles his feet. “I know a lot of that was my fault. I apologize for that. Um, but I did enjoy having you around. You were excellent at your job and…you are missed. Even Jeff remembers you fondly. Which is saying something.”

This was some sort of prank. Or Harry had gotten so famous he now had a doppelgänger roaming the streets as him. It couldn’t be that Harry, my Harry, would say something so sentimental and so…genuine.

“So uh yeah, I would love to see you again while you’re in town.” He says when I don’t respond.

“Right.” I choke out.

He shrugs when I can’t bring myself to say anything more. “We do change, whether you believe it or not y/n.”

I swallow, hoping to lubricate my vocal cords and find my voice. “I-I really do have to go.”

Crestfallen, he nods. His hand comes up to touch my elbow. “Yeah ‘course. Just…think about it?”

I look down at his hand and he lets go, we stay in another bubble of silence. His eyes flicker down to my lips and I feel a wave of warmth as I try not to do the same.

“Goodnight,” I blurt and get to the other side of the glass doors. He watches me go.

On the escalator down I risk a glance back and he’s still there, watching until I’m out of sight. That ended incredibly awkward.

Leave it up to Harry to confuse me in coming back into my life. Damn him, he could never be consistent.

***

Waking up super early to catch the train out to Cambridge is so worth it because I get to watch Josie walk the stage and graduate with distinction wearing her famous smile that beams over the vast room.

Despite what happened with Gray and I, Josie and I have kept in touch steadily over the last year. It started as weekly facetimes which reduced down to monthly calls and have now become a steady stream of texts and memes swapped back and forth.

When she found out I’d be in London around her graduation dates she gave me no choice but to show up, sending me a ticket without asking.

I knew I’d see Gray, and a part of me was nervous and curious how that was going to go. But mostly I was grateful to still be in Josie’s life and spend time with her in person. She was the part of this life I missed most.

I’m sat somewhere in the middle of the room and Josie was smart enough not to seat me with the rest of her guests. But I know I would see everyone during photos and the dinner we were having later on. I try keep my focus on the ceremony however.

“Y/N!” Josie rushes towards me when she sees me after the ceremony. The group she departs from I recognize is a mix of her girl friends, her family, and a few others.

“Josie!” I return the same energy and she leaps into my arms. I squeeze her tight to me. “I’m soo proud of you my girl.”

We sway side to side, until we get enough hug.

“Look at you!” She exclaims when she leans back. “Your hair looks amazing and you are glowing. Please tell me you have a boy in your life.”

“No,” I laugh.

“A girl?” She asks hesitantly.

“No! I’m just…happy where I am right now! How about you look at you! You look phenomenal as per.”

“Oh thanks,” she takes the compliment and giggles. “I asked my dad to grad gift me a salon and spa visit so I am rejuvenated and blown out.”

“Aren’t you ever,” I touch a lock of her hair. “Congratulations.”

“Eek!” She squeals. “Finally finished this hellscape! I can’t wait to never write an exam again—ooh wait I want you to meet my boy…”

“So that’s why we’re actually glowing,” I tease as she tugs me towards the group. That definitely has Gray. My stomach drops the closer we get, he doesn’t seem to notice. He looks busy talking to one of Josie’s friends.

“Anyway,” she deposits me in front of a 6 foot something guy made of angles. “This is Jax. My boyfriend. We met during a Friendsgiving Myles threw last year.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jax smiles. “Y/N right?”

“Yes!”

“I was supposed to get around to that,” Josie huffs.

“Sorry she talked about you a lot when she found out you were coming. She was really excited.”

“Ugh,” she turns to me like she was embarrassed but her face is glowing. Josie was in looove.

“You two are so cute,” I tease which just makes Josie blush a little harder. “So are we getting any pictures?”

“Oh yeah,” Jax swivels his head. “Liliya has the good camera if you want to get-“

“Oh we can use our phones,” Josie cuts him off.

“No get the high res one—Liliya, camera?” Jax motions a shuttering action to the friend Gray was talking to. He’s so tall above the crowd that both look up at him and comply.

“Y/N,” Josie drags my arms back and takes me on the outskirt of the crowd. “I’m so sorry I never mentioned because I thought you wouldn’t come if I did tell you but you-“

“Y/N?”

Josie’s rushed whispers are cut short when Gray notices me and calls my name. He looks stupefied. I spare a glance to Josie and she’s paled.

She didn’t tell him.

“Hey,” I force a friendly tone. I was going to kill that girl.

“Did you all want a photo?” Josie’s friend Liliya shoulders her way back into the circle with the camera on a strap. She turns to Gray, “Babe?”

It’s an odd sensation, like all oxygen has left my lungs and they’re being squeezed as if tightened in a vice. Gray’s eyes drag away from me to his…girlfriend? Definitely not Josie’s friend.

It shakes me in the moment how much I realize I still cared, still carried a shred of hope for…something. And not consciously knowing this makes this moment feel a little like a slap in the face.

What did I think? I was going to leave this country for a year and people were going to pause where I last left them? Of course Gray’s moved on. Aside from the end he was a great partner and anybody would want that.

These thoughts race through my head in the few seconds Gray responds to his girlfriend and I look at Josie. She looks guilty as charged.

“I tried to tell you just now?” She whispers.

Deep breaths, I remind myself. You’re not the hot-headed y/n these people knew last. This day is not about you. It’s about Josie.

“It’s cool. Let’s get some photos,” I smile. “Don’t want to miss having them with you.”

She sighs but keeps her eyes on my face as we walk farther out.

“I am really sorry,” she whispers.

“Hey it’s alright,” I lie. This was the worst of it—Gray had moved on, had a great girlfriend, and I was living the life I wanted. No harm and no foul. “Honestly Jo I get it, you wanted me here reallllly bad.”

“I did!” She says. “But I’m also gonna kill Jax.”

I laugh and we straighten up when we realize the camera was already pointed at us. Josie flashes her degree and a few of her friends join the pictures too. We hustle back to Gray to see them and flipping back on the first few makes my breath catch in my throat. There’s one in particular where Josie is turned to me talking and my mouth is in a big grin because I’m laughing.

I catch eyes with Gray in an uncomfortably intimate second.

“Send me that one for sure wow Gray that’s a really good shot.”

“Oh wow,” his girlfriend peers over. “That’s a great candid.”

“Yeah,” I agree. I’d love a copy too. And of course that’s when Gray’s girlfriend notices me and introduces herself.

“I don’t think we’ve met—is that an American accent I detect?”

“It is,” I smile. “I’m Y/N.”

“Oh!” Two spots of pink appear on her face. It seems she’s heard of me. “Well it’s nice to meet you—nice that Josie invited you! I’m Liliya but Lily works too.”

“C’mon!” Josie interrupts the awkward by grabbing her brother’s arm and pushes him in the direction of where her friends are posing for photos. He takes some shots but Josie hates the look of them and gives the camera to Lily instead.

With just Gray and I left behind it grows very awkward.

“I thought Josie told everyone I would be-“ I say just as he says, “I didn’t realize you would be-“

We stop and chuckle awkwardly.

“Sorry,” I shake my head.

“No,” he shrugs. “It’s cool. It’s cool you’re here actually.”

“Okay,” is all I can say. Until the awkward silence stretches. “So…Liliya?”

“Yeah. Yeah, Liliya. You?”

I want to lie, but I shake my head. “No. Sorta needed the year to breathe a little.”

“Fair. How’s America?”

“Oh y’know, still super-sized and politically a guessing game.”

“Have you turned on our news while you’ve been down at all?” He raises a brow. I laugh because he was right. It was all a shitshow everywhere.

He asks me about my family as Josie jogs up to us.

“Okay, tell me the truth is my hair going flat?”

“No,” I look behind her where her friends are hovering over Lily and the camera going over their photos.

“Good. Where’s mum and dad?” Josie asks Gray. “Dad was just here 10 minutes ago he said he’d come by for—oh there’s mum! Look!”

We turn to where she points. Michelle—what I’ve always called Gray’s mom, spots her daughter at the same time and waves. She starts to walk towards us.

It’s nice to see her but I also feel a bit nervous; going cold turkey on relationships you only had because of an ex are always weird to come back to. Especially ones you were fond of.

“Mum! You’re missing all the pictures!” Josie says. “Where’ve you been!?”

“I just saw somebody I knew back from my first job as a librarian can you believe that?” Michelle says as she joins the group.

“Crazy. Well mum look who got to show up today! Isn’t that crazy too?”

Michelle looks at me and the bright smile that was intended for her daughter dies like a flower in overnight frost. The look wipes the anticipation off my face.

“Who?”

That one word shades the sun from the sky and brings forth a gust of western winds through the group.

“Mum,” Josie look between me, her mum, and Gray. She’s confused. “Y/N?”

“Hey Michelle,” I croak. Maybe my hair was too different for her to recognize me, or maybe she had early onset alzheimers. Surely this woman who I’ve had a better relationship with than her own son has wouldn’t be treating me like your worst frenemy at your high school reunion.

But Michelle looks right through me. I can’t explain how it feels, not in the moment. I’m gutted, and feel an unexplainable wave of sadness.

“Mum…” Josie sounds hurt and Gray finally decides to swoop in.

“Mum let’s check out the photos we took already. We gotta get some of the three of us.”

They walk away and I feel seven inches tall but I turn to Josie with a brave face and face her teary one.

“That was kind of awkward,” I downplay.

“Y/N I’m honestly so sorry I-,” Josie blinks rapidly.

“No it’s ok!”

“I don’t know why she acted like that-“

“Hey It’s natural for her to feel that way I’m alright don’t get upset-“

“It’s not alright though! That was such a…she never acts like that.”

It was true. Michelle was a free-spirit as she called herself. That’s why Gray had such a hard relationship with her; in his words, she was too emotional and ungrounded for him.

Yet apparently, she was able to find enough ground to stand on when it came to treating me like a nobody. I wonder if it’s because she heard Gray’s biased side of the story or she was hurt herself—still, the way she’s always talked about herself never struck me as someone who would believe a one-sided story. Or be a bitch to someone they previously called their daughter. It hurt like a mofo.

I didn’t want Josie to find out this way, here of all places, that her mom was just human after all. She idolized that woman.

So even though it hurt, I comfort her instead.

“She probably just feels betrayed by me leaving and stuff since we were close too. Imagine if Jax broke up with you and she gave him the cold shoulder—wouldn’t you feel justified?”

Josie scrunches her brows to think about the simplified story I’ve just fed her to feel better. I can tell it still doesn’t sit well with her but she nods in acceptance, “I guess.”

“Yeah, just forget it Josie. Plus you’ve got pictures to take so dry those eyes.”

“Shit I know,” she blinks some more. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to invite you here and twist the knife at every bloody turn.”

“Jo I’m honoured to get to be here and see all your hard work pay off. Don’t worry about anything else.”

“It’s unfair,” she says before she drifts to her group of friends. “I feel like nobody understands how…how understanding you are. But I’m really glad we’re still in touch. And you came for me.”

Her words bring tears to my eyes and I nod, afraid that talking would bring them forward. I watch her crash her group and start instructing photo coordination. I help hold things for people while they take photos and feel like a stranger outside the crowd. If it weren’t for Josie, I think I would have regretted coming here. I feel homesick and unwanted. A tough combo.

I was supposed to crash on someone’s couch tonight and do brunch with Josie tomorrow before going back to London but from the last half hour alone I know I’m going back to the city no matter how late it gets tonight. I think of the hotel room that was home right now, of how lonely that was going to feel to go back to too.

Home right now was in America, in the same time zone as my family, and comfortable in my shared apartment with one of my high school best friends who I reconnected with after going back home. I miss it so bad. And I feel like I’ve bitten into an unripe fruit coming back to the UK before I was ready apparently. My experience feels soured.

I shake off the doom and gloom when the party breaks. We were all going to meet at the restaurant at 6–my plan was to explore the university city and find a place to kill some time in. Maybe go outside to a park with lunch. Josie tries to convince me to join her and her friends for their mid-day celebration but I lie and tell her I had some work to do.

I call Winnie on my stroll through the city. I insist she update me on last night first, and she has more to tell—the guy had a yacht and he was inviting her to a party tonight. She tells me to join if I came back early and we cross our fingers that Oretta wouldn’t need her before then.

I originally called her to rant about Michelle and Gray but I don’t, I didn’t want to kill her vibe. So I scroll through my other contacts but don’t want to worry my mom and it was too early back home to reach anyone else.

My eyes catch on Harry’s name, he was at the top of my texts currently because he sent me a link this afternoon asking me for thoughts on it. I hadn’t opened it yet, I wasn’t sure what to think about this new persona he was wearing or that he thought yesterday’s run-in went okay enough to casually message me for my thoughts.

I remember the weird electricity of yesterday and shove my phone back into my pocket.

He genuinely wanted to have a drink? And talk??

I did enjoy having you around. You were excellent at your job and you are missed.

Was he trying to make up for his cruel words? But he also seemed a lot more mellow than before. Maybe that was just because I didn’t work for him. What did he want? And was I twisted for believing the new schtick?

Most curious of all was him at the pub in the first place. He was not a local there—that was a big lie.

I try to conjure up my previous hatred, calling him the Devil in my head. But it’s harder to do. Seeing him yesterday, he was just a man standing in front of a woman with a head full of cautionary tales and bad experiences.

Without warning images from that night come back and I feel my heart flutter. I shut them down just as quick. Not all bad, my body tries to remind me. I tell it to shut up.

I’ve barely stepped foot in this country again and already my mind was running circles around my heart. How exhausting.

***

I’m early to the restaurant, before anyone else apparently. As the hostess finds my name on her floor plan Josie comes in behind me with Jax.

“Oh! Y/n you’re early!” She seems flustered.

“Yeah I didn’t think I would be,” it was only a few minutes to 6.

We make small talk while we’re led to the table, Josie’s eyes keep darting to where our table might be.

“Sorry I was hoping to do this before you came,” she says when we get there. There are name cards along the 7 seats and she picks the one in front of me. “I’m just gonna move mum to my other side so it doesn’t get weird. Which means she’ll be closer to dad but…I think he’s bailing since his girlfriend doesn’t want to do this.”

Josie shrugs, I know how she feels about her dad’s girlfriend. She begins explaining the plans she has to do dinner with her dad later this week and the more she talks the more I can tell that she feels awkward. And I hate that it’s because of me. At one point Jax and I catch eyes and pass an awkward smile.

“Josie,” I walk up to her fiddling with the name tags. She stops talking immediately. I grip her shoulders. “Thanks.”

“Sorry,” she whispers. I wrap my arms around her and she melts into me.

“Stop apologizing.”

“Sorry. I can’t help it. It’s a disease.”

We let go with a laugh and she seems more stable. “This is going to be fine.”

Famous last words.

It’s definitely not fine and very awkward. Jax ends up sitting in front of me, and even though Liliya’s name tag was beside mine it’s suddenly swapped as they slide in and Gray sits beside me. I guess it might be too awkward for her but not awkward enough to fit someone we both dated between us.

I can sense Michelle’s pinched face as she notices us sitting beside each other and I feel badly for Josie the most as she tries to play the gracious host. At one point I sense Jax laying a hand on her arm and taking over, asking Michelle questions about her yoga and getting her talking.

“Did you need more?” Gray turns to me with the wine bottle, it’s the second thing he’s said to me tonight. Otherwise he mostly just watches me talk and leans back enough when others are talking so I can be involved.

“I’m okay,” I whisper. I didn’t want to draw any attention while Michelle was talking. She hadn’t said a peep to me, even when Josie tried to involve us both in a shared memory. She continued acting like I was Casper the ghost.

I can feel Lily’s eyes on us as Gray offers wine, of course they would be. No wonder Gray barely spoke to me all night. Fuck me, what was I doing here.

Jax is a sweetheart, asking me about my job and encouraging conversation between the both of us. I’m so happy for Josie that she found a partner like him.

By the time dinner is over I mostly want to cry. I feel spent. But I also feel like I crashed an intimate dinner and everyone’s polite enough not to mention it. Despite Josie, I do actually regret coming.

As we pay the bill and shuffle out, Josie grabs my arm.

“So I have two friends where you can crash at their place or Jax can sleep over at mine and you can sleep at his or-“

“I think I’m gonna head back to the city.”

Her face falls. But it’s like she knew I was going to say that.

“Sorry Jo. I think you should come to the city next week—maybe visit your brother? And while you’re down we’ll do brunch then. I’m mostly free while I’m here. I’m just pretty tired and have to help Winnie with something tomorrow.”

“Really?” She says in the smallest voice I’ve heard out of her. Salt to my wounds.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I know we were looking forward to getting time together.”

She juts out her lip and I’m reminded of the girl I met when I first started dating Gray. How she’d taken to me so quickly. How the whole family had. How things could end up like this.

And suddenly I see the future laid out in front of me. After tonight it would be hard to keep this relationship going—Josie and I. She’s just seen her mom be an unreasonable bitch for the first time, I can tell she’s been trying to compensate all night but the cracks won’t go away. It’ll always be a sitting duck between us.

We might try to stay in touch, maybe I’d reach out if I was ever in London or if she ever visited the west coast. But this would fizzle out.

She was still young and naive enough that her mom hung the moon and stars; mom’s beliefs were gospel, her opinions were rulings, and she’d just delivered my ultimate sentence: I was a black sheep to the family. How could sweet Josie walk through a mess like that?

“I’m so proud of you,” I tell her as I fight tears. “Congratulations again and thank you for inviting me.”

“Thanks. And you don’t have to be so nice. I know it was kind of a shitty invite.”

“No,” I insist. “I loved being here. I don’t regret showing up for you. I can’t wait to hear what you get up to.”

“I’m going to make sure to make it to the city next week,” she squeezes my arm. “We’ll see each other soon.”

“Exactly,” I look over at the rest of the group, where her boyfriend waits for her. Her family. “And I really like Jax, so good on you for that.”

“He…” she twists her lips, swallowing what she was going to say before vomiting it out. “I always aspired to have a relationship like yours and Gray’s. I never wanted to settle for anything less so that’s…that’s why Jax.”

“Hm I think you made us the bar and you leapt over it babe,” I wrap my arms around her again. I ache with the loss of what we used to be.

“See you soon,” she says before she drags herself back to the group.

I stand off to the side, awkwardly ordering an Uber. The group begins to walk the opposite way waving bye to me. I breathe easier without the weight of them around.

As I tap my foot in anticipation of the ride to the station arriving, I feel a hand tap my shoulder.

“Y/n,” it’s Gray. “Hey I…I just wanted to say something before you left.”

“Oh. Hey yeah. Shoot.”

What was it with everyone wanting to say something to me.

“Uh…ok give me a minute,” he laughs in the way I know to mean he was feeling nervous. “I just sort of jogged back impulsively.”

“Yeah well you have,” I glance at my phone. “4 or so minutes.”

“Damn,” he ruffles his hair. “Alright. I think I just wanna say sorry.”

“Oh.” That was it. Everyone had something to say to me and the something was apparently sorry.

“Yeah I’m sorry. I…when we broke up I was so upset and caught up in my own head. I blamed you for everything. I think it only hit me when you just up and moved out of the country how things actually went down.”

I hadn’t told anyone but Josie that I was leaving.

“Yeah you were just like gone.” He continues. “I guess a part of me thought we’d get some space, maybe circle back later…”

“You really betrayed me,” I remind him.

But even I know what he means. He hurt me bad and it might be crazy stupid but on some level we were both aware we were in an ugly place and maybe with some space we might come back to the place that was good for us again. Maybe bump into each other one day, strike up a conversation, find there might still be a small amount of love left. Enough to water and grow again.

“I know,” he sighs. “I know. I hate that I hurt you like that. I regret…I actually don’t really hang out with that group of friends as much anymore. I sorta have myself to blame but I didn’t like who I was with them.”

I listen, letting him speak. It hurt too, knowing this was the Grayson I had fallen in love with. Kind and supportive, and now apparently he’s learned to communicate. Maybe that was a Lily thing.

“I guess,” he blows the air out of his cheeks. “I want to say I’m really truly sorry. I missed you a lot after you left. Nothing was the same and life was fucking hard. I wish things didn’t end the way they did and I stayed mature but I was just jealous and angry.”

I nod to acknowledge what he’s saying and watch him take a breath to continue.

“And I always appreciated how you never let us shake your relationship with my sister because she bloody loves you—I don’t think how mum treated you was right today but I never really understood her in the first place. I’m sorry about that.”

“Yeah,” is all I can manage without making it obvious how emotional this was all making me. How one year could make me feel like a completely different person. How this man I loved, and still love in some way, could stand in front of me talking about us as something in the past. Because we were. Long past.

My phone dings with a notification that my ride would be here. We glance down and out into the street.

“Anyway,” he swallows. “I just wanna apologize. And say I genuinely hope you find love y/n. Love that’s as fierce and loyal as you are. I hope you can forgive me one day. And I hope you’re successful as hell in whatever you pour yourself into.”

“Thank you Gray,” I want to say I was sorry too. For what it was worth. But my car pulls to the curb.

I wave at the driver to let them know I’d ordered it and we walk the few feet to the back door.

I face Gray and open my mouth to say it. Say something more: how I appreciated his words, how I was sorry for how things ended too, how I hope he is happy. But nothing comes out of my mouth. I just stare at him, my eyes welling with tears instead.

Gray holds out his hand and I look down at it. I knew those hands well and it’s like walking into a place you used to frequent in the past and have memories rush towards you as you remember: those hands held me and wrapped around my own and comforted me, they made me food and stroked my hair, and carried my bags when they got too heavy. They once wore an engagement band I gifted, they once held a small box with a life-changing question I had said yes to.

Now it was just a hand.

I clasp it and he squeezes.

“I know,” he says, his eyes trained on my watery ones. He squeezes again and lets go.

I rush into the car, those two words nearly cracking me in half. I wave goodbye through the tinted window and feel a wave of despair that pulls me down into the depths of darkness.

Too much was happening at once.

My emotions spiral out of me and I feel alone in this foreign country; I needed comfort where none could be found.

I don’t mean to. Or maybe I do. But on the train back to London I text Harry: is it too early to cash in on the drink?

His response is immediate: no, I was waiting for this text last night

I smile, despite myself.

Can I come over? I text with shaking hands.

H: For drinks?

Y: For drinks

H: Ofc.

***

The taxi drops me in front of the familiar building. I feel an echo of anxiety pierce through me as I go through the familiar doors. I nod at the concierge, the night replacement was new and I’m grateful nobody can recognize me making this potentially stupid decision.

For a brief second I wonder if Harry had other plans tonight but decide not to overthink it. He’d invited me openly. And maybe I was making a decision based on sadness and loneliness and grief and needing to be wanted but I make it. And I would make it like a grown woman—ready to accept the consequences.

I didn’t want to go back to my lonely hotel room. I didn’t want to call anyone and talk about what just happened. I didn’t have words. My body was taking the beating, feeling everything under the sun and now bruised and battered for it. I just wanted my body to forget that. And there was only one person in this godforsaken city that could help.

I’m let up to the penthouse and I forgot it had a distinct smell, wood-like and something indescribable. Weird that it felt comforting.

“You made it,” Harry comes into view in a simple pair of shorts and a long-sleeved white tee pushed up to his elbows. It’s the sleeves that really do it.

“I did.”

I leave my bags beside the elevator next to the umbrella stand, keeping my eyes on him. He doesn’t take his off mine either. I’m glad he doesn’t. Now I know he knows we both said drinks but meant something more.

He reaches out for me before I even get to him, and I know I would think about that later. A lot. But right then in the middle of his entryway I wrap my arms around his neck and lean up on my toes to reach him too.

His lips are soft against mine and he tucks me into him, his hand splayed out on my lower back. It feels like a return to a lover, someone who knows you, like I would’ve thought seeing Gray again would feel. But it’s just Harry, and the thought of baseless familiarity freaks me out a little.

The next time I feel his lips they’re on my jaw and neck and down to the base of my throat. He murmurs my name as he makes his way down and my body reacts immediately. He takes me by the waist and backs me up against the nearest wall, and I have a feeling I might fall.

I had made the conscious decision to walk into the devil’s lair because it was the only place I could get what I needed.

My fingers dig into his shoulders. My body wants this. Every part of me wants to pull him close and hold him and never let go. I wanted all of it tonight.

But I am so tired.

I put a hand on his chest and press gently. I can feel the warmth of his skin, the firmness of his muscles and the beat of his heart as he pauses.

“Sorry, I should have started with a hello. That was too fast was it?” He whispers, looking me straight in the eyes.

I have a million answers, but nothing comes. He puts his hand over mine and I feel it as a shiver runs up my spine.

"Is this too fast?" he asks again, and I hear the worry in his voice.

I shake my head.

He gives a breathy laugh, "Then tell me."

"I think I-“

“Don’t,” he covers my mouth with a laugh. “Please please. Don’t think.”

I smile under his palm and he drops his hand, I can tell he’s proud of lightening the moment by the sheen in his eyes. The moment is tender in a way that takes me back.

He brushes back my hair and kisses my forehead. I close my eyes, breathing in his cologne.

“That’s not where I want to be kissed,” I tell him.

“Then where?” He plays along.

“Anywhere but there.”

He kisses my nose. “There?”

“Not there,” I open my eyes to look up at him. “I’ll have you know that was very snotty just an hour ago.”

He groans, “you really have a way of taking the desire out of a situation.”

But his brows furrow and he watches me even closer.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I respond to his unasked question.

With that statement he takes a painful step back and I nearly slide down the wall without his support.

“What?” I ask.

“We should take that drink first.”

I feel the loss of his body pressed against mine, I realize miserably.

“What do you mean? I thought the drinks were just an excuse?” I ask.

He laughs a little, “Maybe tonight, but I really did want to have a drink with you. And talk.”

“Harry,” I groan. “I’m all out of talking tonight. Truly.”

“As much as I want to say forget talking and take you to bed I need to do this…just follow me,” he leads me and my flushed body through to the main living area which I was well familiar with but it’d gotten a facelift. I make commentary on the changes and he tells me more about it as he pulls a wine he wants out for us.

“I changed things around a little after you left,” he says as he hands me the wine glass. “I needed it. The change.”

“Oh.” Is all I can muster. I follow him to the sofa, tonight he doesn’t leave as much space between us but it still feels like a weird parallel to the night I landed in the hospital; a confrontation with Gray leading me to wine with Harry. “Look Harry I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Why not?”

“I…I’m at minimal capacity right now I just-“

“Just let me talk then.”

“Why does everyone want to talk!”

“I need to tell you what I should have said a long time ago and I want to apologize-“

“You already did-“

“Properly.”

I cross my arms and sigh.

“Y/n bloody hell I forgot how quickly you can get under my skin.”

“So this isn’t a great thing then.”

“Y/N,” he says my name like a warning and I want to comply. I roll my eyes and knock back my glass of wine, the buzz from the glass at dinner has long since worn away.

“Part of me wants to top you up but another part remembers what happened last time.” Harry eyes me.

“No I’m okay with just one glass. Drinking when I’m upset doesn’t end well.”

“Yeah…I don’t want you concussed on my watch again.”

“No we don’t want that,” we smile at each other, a soft and sentimental smile that gets the anxious stuttering of my heart to calm down a little. He just wanted to talk, so what?

But the anxious voice runs through the scenarios he might want to—his recent text, or something I did as his PA he wants to take up now. Gah.

“I really have missed having you around,” he says softly.

“Didn’t feel like you would with how you treated me.” I raise my brow.

“I know.” He pauses then mumbles something before talking to me directly. “You must have heard about the PA before you? Maybe from Riley?”

“Kind of.”

“Kind of?”

“Hmmm this feels like a trick question.” I say but he tells me he just wants to know what I knew. So I rip the bandaid off. “You had a fling with her.”

He hangs his head back over the seat of the sofa and sighs. “I knew that piece of…Riley makes me really mad when I think about him sometimes.”

“Does he?” I raise my brow. “I can think of someone else who makes me madder.”

“I know that’s supposed to be me. And I don’t know what to do about that except come clean right now.”

“And why is that?” I ask. “Coming clean? I came here just to get distracted in bed with you. I never thought I’d live to see the day where a guy like you wants to talk instead.”

“Y/N,” he says with such an intense look my way my stomach flips. “Trust me. I want to have you in my bed more than you do. But I told myself if that day ever somehow happened it would be after this.”

I shrug, let him continue. In reality his words make me weak and I can’t speak. Which kind of annoys me—why did he have such a strong pull over me? How did he so easily admit he’s thought about me, about having me in his bed!?

My heart flutters amongst other things.

I remember a brief conversation I had with my mom last year when she asked me why I wasn’t putting myself out there and dating again and I told her I just didn’t have the heart for it. She had said it seems I left my heart in London—my passion and my heart. Sitting here with Harry stirs something inside of me, scares me, and I want to distract that with more wine. But I manage to control myself.

“I was fairly new to the industry when I hired Riley and it was his second proper job or something so we were both a bit young and we ended up being friendlier than we should have.” Harry starts. “But he was great at his job and never gave me any issues. I stayed naïve that people in this industry would look out for my best interest-“

“That’s really naïve,” I can’t help but comment but he throws me a look and I zip my lips. “Sorry.”

“I was lucky that the first few relationships I built as I got my foot in the door were genuine but I realized too late that it wasn’t a norm. Everyone wanted a piece of me and they all wanted me to be someone else. Some angle. Shit hit the fan pretty quickly. So when I needed more help I decided to create a new role for Riley and hire a PA. She was seasoned and came highly recommended.”

I nod along to his story.

“Long story short, she started out good but she kept trying to get me alone and get me talking. And back then after being friends with my old PA I didn’t have the wisdom of setting boundaries—don’t give me that look.”

“What!” I raise my hands. “I’m just listening.”

“You’re judging me.”

“Just continue,” I encourage. I was judging a little.

“Anyway, where I thought we were just friendly she thought I—I dunno I was falling for her or something. And one night she was working late so she had dinner here. She kept refilling my drink I didn’t realize she wasn’t drinking as much. It’s not much of an excuse but by the time she came onto me I was pissed and it didn’t take much.”

He continues the story like it was nothing but his voice catches a little and he doesn’t look me in the eye. My insides grow colder. I want to reach inside of him and hold the old Harry, the naive one who didn’t know better.

“Please don’t feel bad for me,” he cuts my sympathy short. “I didn’t turn into a great person after that. Especially with how I treated you.”

“That’s right.” I pretend to be unaffected by his story like he wanted me to be. But it’s near impossible.

“So that’s how I decided it was best for me to play the asshole. I couldn’t fire her after that—it would look awful and she could report me and screw me over. But I could make working for me a nightmare and so I did. A few months later she quit.”

He sighs and takes a swig of his wine, “Then you came along and I thought ‘I should play the asshole from the get go.’ I had gotten good by then at compartmentalizing my personality in the industry.”

“Hmph,” I raise a brow. He has the decency to look embarrassed but he continues.

“But the more time we spent together the worse I felt. You were nothing like the previous PA. You were genuine and down-to-earth. Pretty fiery but I wouldn’t find that out until later,” he grins. I roll my eyes. “I tried to ease up a little but things kept happening to push me back into the asshole box.”

“But you were so snappy, and a dick.”

“I know. I didn’t know how to tell you you worked too hard without dropping the asshole act and making you feel even shittier.”

“What do you mean?”

“I had to be the villain in your story-“

“What?” What was he talking about?

“Yeah like, you were working all the time even though there were some times I told you to wrap it up for the day.”

I remembered that, thinking he was kicking me out.

“But you took the job so seriously. I appreciated everything you did but you were dogged at making sure you did the best at any cost.”

“What do you mean? At any cost?” I ask, a cold sensation running down my back.

“For example take that one time a few months in when I asked you to call me because you forgot to order wine. You bloody came all the way back to hand deliver it-“

“Yeah because you said to call you and you were gonna be pissed if I-“

“No, y/n,” he lays a hand between us. “I just wanted you to call to know where you usually ordered from so I could order that for myself. You weren’t in any trouble! But I could only blame myself for playing the hard asshole too well.”

I think about that night, Josie’s birthday party. How I left early and upset Gray. How I didn’t need to but I had been following the Dos and Dont’s list.

Shit, the lists. They were added onto by the last PA who, now I know, was having her life made into hell just so she would quit. Some of those lists were on an extreme I didn’t even have to follow. Fuck. That was on me.

My face must be a painting of regret because Harry apologizes again.

“I’m sorry but I didn’t want you to…I just felt like I had to play the villain so you could do what you had to do. So you could continue hating me and we could establish the clear boundary.”

“Right.” I have a bitter taste in my mouth.

“But I genuinely liked you, I thought you were funny and sensitive-“

“You don’t like my sensitivity.”

“I do. I just hated how angry you were-“

“Because of you.”

“I know. I created a monster, I’m Frankenstein.”

“Damn straight.” I agree and we pause a beat before laughing.

“Anyway,” he continues. “You were funny and sensitive and resilient, passionate and smart, and you cared so deeply. It was rare meeting people like you in this field. I wanted to wrap you in bubble wrap but I think I shattered you instead. I’m sorry for the way I just let my past colour your time here. I feel like you left because of me-“

“It was really a lot of reasons.”

“I know but I was part of that and I felt no good. After you left I was a miserable son of a bitch for a while. I couldn’t even enjoy my holiday because I kept thinking of you. I was miserable so I barely even said goodbye—I didn’t realize you were going to run away so far. But I also didn’t want to say goodbye because I was scared I would convince you to stay by spilling my truth.”

His words sit on my chest and they slowly sink down to my stomach. I don’t know what it meant, what he wanted me to do with this confession. It’s too much.

“Mostly,” he continues, shifting closer to me on the sofa. He lowers his voice, “Mostly I’m sorry about Barcelona.”

I flush at the mention of it. At the heat and passion from that night. His eyes roam my face.

“I’m not that guy. I should have treated you nicer, should have been the one to keep my patience.”

“I didn’t make it easy,” I admit.

“No,” he chuckles. “You really fucking did not.”

We smile.

“But you’re so much more than anger y/n. I could barely sleep that night, I kept regretting giving into the anger and not being slow and soft with you the way you deserve. I regret it all the time.”

His confession pulls the veil off my eyes and I see a sharper image of my past. Of everything. It all comes at once and I can’t sort through it in the moment but I know what I want to do.

I shuffle over until I’m up against Harry, I hold his face in mine and he cups my face in his hand.

“You drove me crazy,” I tell him. “Made my life hell.”

“I know. But you drove me crazy too. Nobody got under my skin like you did.”

“Same.”

His hand snakes down to my thigh and he nudges it over his lap so that I’m straddling his body. I feel vulnerable and scared—not the first time these emotions have coursed through me in this very room. But today I don’t feel powerless.

His lips are soft against my cheek, my jaw, down my neck. Unlike the first time he’s slow and deliberate like someone who’s waited so long to unwrap a cherished gift and can’t stand ripping even the gift wrap. He pushes my hair out of the way and trails his fingertips down the back of my neck.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he whispers in my ear. The more he talked the more nervous he was making me. I turn my head to capture his lips, run my fingers through his hair which is too short to really grasp. I missed his old hair.

We break apart for a breath and I can feel the tension. The desire to have him near clashing with the need to go slow. To savour this. Somehow we both feel it.

“We don’t have to do anything tonight,” Harry promises me, his finger trailing down my arm. “Just having you here is enough.”

Oh god. How did he know just the things to say. This man was way too suave. He really was the devil.

But I needed him. It’s scary to admit but I did. I wanted to be here, I really did. I needed to be in this moment with him. Fulfill some shut-out desire that had grown dusty in the corner of my heart.

“I want to do this.”

With a gentle kiss he gets us up and takes my hand. I feel myself being pulled through the living room and towards the bedroom. The sheets are cool, but not cold and when he crawls in beside me I forget that I had ever been anywhere else.

He’s attentive and deliberate and I’m buzzing with anticipation. I decide to pick up the pace, propping myself up to take off my blouse. I watch his throat bob up and down like he’s never seen me like this before even though he has. It’s endearing.

The way his hands fit in the curve of my waist makes it harder to breathe. He moves his hands up my torso and to the straps of my bra. He pauses, as if asking permission, and when I nod, he kisses me. He unhooks it and slowly slides it off my shoulders, eyes fixed on mine.

The intensity of his gaze is overwhelming.

I pull him close to kiss him again, and he pulls me under him so I can feel the full weight of him against me. This is what I needed. To be physically present and not stuck in the after tremors of the earthquakes of my past. Not that he wasn’t part of my past but this is different. A non-verbal agreement to just be present. I knew his ways with women, it could be a one-night thing and that’s what I needed.

But that’s why the moments of tenderness and adoration nearly take my breath away. I don’t know where to put these things.

He kisses down my shoulder while his hand trails down to my trousers. He hooks his finger into the belt loop and tugs gently, looking up at me for consent.

I nod.

He slowly takes them off, and when his fingers brush against my bare legs, my breath hitches.

It happens again when he presses his lips against my hip bone.

He stops for a moment, and I can almost see the cogs in his brain whirring.

He moves up to press his forehead against mine.

"I don't know how to do this right," he says quietly, and his eyes search mine.

“What do you mean?”

“This is always how I should have treated you,” he whispers. “I want you to know-“

“Harry,” I smooth out the lines on his forehead.

"No," he grabs my hand and kisses it. "I don't want you to feel like I don't care because I do. I don’t want to hurt you. I'm not good at saying these things. But I want you to know how much I value you. That I like you as a person. I respect you. I want you to be okay.”

“I-“ who was this Harry, seriously!? “I get it. I’m okay. I am.”

He smiles at me tentatively and my heart does a somersault.

I grab the back of his neck and pull him down, pressing my lips against his. I could taste the sweetness of the words he had said.

I tug at his shirt and it flies into the darkness of his bedroom. His skin is heated against mine.

It feels like an eternity before he finally reaches the band of my panties, and my heart thumps wildly.

"May I?" he looks up.

"Please," I whisper.

For the first time since I’ve met him he doesn’t make it about himself or what he needs. It’s almost intimidating how intense he is as he looks after me and it’s hard to reconcile this man with the man in my head. We’re of one mind and it’s like he knows everything I’ve been through in the last 24 hours; he just attends to my every need reminding me that I was here, right here, in his arms and in this body.

And it doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Are you staying the night?” He asks later with a final kiss to my shoulder.

“If that’s alright?” I ask. I didn’t want to be alone in a cold hotel room.

“I’d love nothing more.” He says earnestly.

Love. I brush the word away.

He warns me that he was a slug if I stayed and he’s not exaggerating, with his arm draped over me and tucked up against him he’s like a child with a plush. He falls asleep just as quickly.

I should too but can’t. I feel so intensely about this body laying beside me, I want to crawl inside of him, understand him, understand us and how this worked.

Or maybe I wanted to just understand me, and why I felt a piece of myself sliding back into place tonight. I had to be the most fucked up person in this city.

Instead of sleeping I lay awake thinking about everything and I can’t help it. I go over this morning—god it felt like weeks ago. Josie’s graduation. Josie. Gray. Even Michelle.

I feel slightly paralyzed by everything that transpired today—it truly felt like peering through a glass window into a life I used to have. I try to break open the glass, sort it all out.

On one side is me and everything I’ve done this whole year to move on from the crumbs of my life here in London. I don’t know why but I really did think that coming back I would be 100% untouchable by my past. I was an idiot for thinking that because I was bothered that Gray seemed to have a steady girlfriend. Why did I think anything would rekindle between us?

I dig deeper, did I even want that to happen? Or did I just want to prove to myself that I was the one Gray let get away because I was too scared to face the possibility that I was the one who let Gray get away.

But clearly something didn’t work with us, I think bitterly. A few months with his new girl and he found the balls to open up with me and communicate his grievances and his apologies.

Love that’s as fierce and loyal as you are, he had said. Was I too much for Gray? Is that why we were made to burn out? It hurt too that he had damaged all my relationships I made in my life here in London only to cut those same people out of his life immediately after I left. The more I think about it the angrier I feel.

And his mom, I still feel bruised by her acting like she didn’t even know me. It stokes the anger higher. Her own son has called her crazy on multiple occasions, I was always nothing but kind to her. Gray was the one who put the final nail in our coffin yet the woman who called me her daughter and claimed to love me had been cruel. Even in the face of getting along for Josie’s sake she had put her petty feelings in the forefront.

These people made me so angry.

How did I ever think I could rekindle anything with Gray? As much as I was to blame, I realize, Gray couldn’t even be kind in the end. Just because the year apart was good to him didn’t mean he would still be good for me.

I think about the man laying beside me, in a hypothetical situation if things got ugly I instinctively want to say he would be cruel too. But I have to push past the persona he claimed to have put up and think about the glimpses of the man I saw underneath. Something tells me he would be just as fiery in letting me know how he was feeling. But with his recent apologies I’m not as convinced he would go out of his way to hurt me again.

Even in the bar last night, I just assumed he called me Mrs. Duran to be cruel but he hadn’t known. Or when I had assumed at Josie’s birthday party I would be fired for forgetting wine because he was an asshole when really he just acted like one so I wouldn’t feel worse.

How many times had I judged people because of how skewed my own lens was? It’s a sobering reminder.

Josie’s face flashes through my mind and I tear up at knowing we were going to cut each other out. No matter how much we loved each other staying in touch at this rate was no longer sustainable. For her best interest.

I think of my younger brother back home, my older sister, our family of 5. When I went back home there was so much to catch up on and eventually, apologize for. I had missed out on so much of my family’s life because I believed I needed to leave to grow. Well, life sure handed me a lot of lessons but I needed to go back home to plant them and let me grow.

Harry stirs beside me, nuzzling my neck in his sleep. I feel myself go teary eyed for no reason.

I wondered if this was just a one-night thing. If we would see each other again while I was in London. Did I want to see him? My heart sings yes immediately.

Damn.

What was it about him that pushed my emotions to the highest highs and lowest lows. How did he know every button to push and every bruise to kiss. This had to be toxic, we couldn’t just take our great big baggage of a past and see each other casually while I was in London. It couldn’t be that easy.

What if it was, hope whispers. I squirm. Could I forgive Harry for everything he’d done?

“Y’sleeping?” Harry mumbles to my left. Shit.

“Yeah,” I say which invokes a throaty chuckle from him. I check the time, it was nearly 4. Double shit.

“Liar,” he tugs on my hips and I turn to face him. “Talk to me.”

I couldn’t. Half of my thought were about him. And how could I tell him I was thinking about my ex after spending the night with him. So I just shake my head.

“Please?” He brushes my cheek with his thumb. “You need to sleep.”

“I-“ I try to say I can’t but the words get stuck in my throat. The emotions of everything I’d been thinking in the last couple hours threaten to dislodge the words from my throat so I close my mouth. But it doesn’t work.

A sob bursts out of me and before I can reel it all in the floodgates swing open and it carries all the pent-up sorrow and confusion, grief and anguish I had bottled up.

Harry freezes for a moment, probably very confused to wake up and have me reacting this way. But he recovers and pulls me into his warm chest.

“What is going on in that head of yours love,” Harry murmurs. Love. I sob even harder.

He murmurs reassuring words whilst stroking my back and I cry an embarrassing amount in the same bed where just hours ago I was blissed beyond comprehension. Life moves fast.

Finally when I gain enough composure I lean away, covering my face because crying into him was one thing but seeing my ugly cry face was another.

“Here,” I feel his body move and then tissues pressed into my hand. I’m grateful for them but I wasn’t going to blow my nose here. I sit up and try to dry my nose. His hand reaches out and the tips of his fingers rest on my spine like he was tethering my lost body to him. Somehow even that is reassuring.

“Don’t go trying to kiss my nose this early on again,” I try to joke through a stuffy voice.

“I wouldn’t dare,” he tugs my arm a little and I fall back beside him. He holds me in both his arms and I watch in horror and affection as he kisses the tip of my nose.

“Stop being so nice,” I laugh and cry a little too.

“You’re actually complaining about me being nice?”

“No I just—I’m not used to it,” I press the tissue to my eyes again.

“Well get used to it,” he peels the hair off of my face and pushes it back. “I don’t want to be the one hurting you. I swear to never ever be the reason you cry like this to anyone.”

“Don’t say those sorts of things if you don’t mean it.”

“I do,” he caresses my face. “You’re breaking my heart y/n, I don’t know who hurt you but I never want to see you like this. Especially not because of me alright? I’m sorry if I ever-“

“Stop,” I put my hand to his mouth. Which is kind of gross since I just blew my nose but I’m pretty sure him kissing my snotty nose means he didn’t care.

“But-“ he says behind my hand.

“I’m embarrassed right now,” I admit.

“You have seen me in every compromising situation,” Harry says. “And we have been through too much together to be embarrassed right now.”

“Fine,” I sigh. “It is tiring.”

“Maybe you can finally sleep now that it’s…almost 5?”

“Sorry,” I sigh. “I hope you don’t have something early?”

“Nope,” he kisses the top of my head. “And even if I did it wouldn’t matter.”

So we both try to go back to bed and I manage to fall asleep, all of those tiring racing thoughts washed away by a good cry. I feel warm and cared for and vulnerable and protected. A stark change from how Harry has made me feel before. Maybe this was temporary or maybe this was the start of something new. I’m just taking it minute by minute while all I can think is Do I or Don’t I?

***

It’s my final week in London and if you’d asked me a couple weeks ago if I was looking forward to going back home I would have said without hesitation yes.

But that night at Harry’s and putting my past to rest brushes away an old and tired film I had been viewing the city with since I landed.

We had seen each other a couple times a week since—I’ve been cautious despite my body saying otherwise. There were many days I had been free but I had made up some excuse not to see him, I was scared of getting too attached and having to leave.

But I can’t deny how nice it was to be with Harry without any labels. Most of the time I went over to his, it was tricky going out somewhere too public and risking getting papped. Together we just talk about life and work, my life back in America and my relationship with my family, his life growing up and his relationship with stardom. We watch movies and listen to music and make jokes and I open up a little about what had been weighing on my mind that night.

Winnie teases me that I was lighter than she’s ever seen me, that London looked good on me. I tell her she’s crazy. But even Oretta admits it when Winnie brings it up to her.

Harry makes the effort to make up for how he acted until it’s not just words. I believe what he was saying. And I admit to my faults too.

We still get under each other’s skin.

The thing we argue about the most is an opportunity Harry tries to get me to sign off on. The link he texted me when I was in Cambridge was an upcoming single one of his friends was releasing and he wanted to get me to bid on executing a music video for it. I tell him he was nuts and that I had no experience, plus I had a job. But he persists. He thinks I should explore putting my creative skills to use and not just my organizational skills. The arguing continues.

I have a date with him tonight, at the same bar we bumped into each other that first night. I have a question I’d been meaning to ask him.

“You aren’t actually a regular here are you?” I ask when we’ve settled.

“Of course I am,” he says but I know he’s lying. I raise my brow and he looks everywhere but at me. “Fine. I’m not.”

“So how the hell did you end up here that night?”

“Coincidence.”

“Liar.”

“I’m an honest man.”

“Truth please?”

“You’re embarrassing me here let’s move on.”

“Nuh-uh,” I’m enjoying his bright cheeks and darting eyes. “Did you stalk me or something?”

“I…I knew this was a local spot for you. Or was.”

“Really? How?”

“You mentioned it a few times? And I dropped you off here once after work.”

He might’ve. I’d met many friends and especially Gray here. I motion for him to continue.

“I might’ve known you were in town, might’ve found out you were here and…”

“So you did stalk me,” I gasp. “Oh my god ladies and gents he is obsessed.”

“That’s a strong word.” He argues.

“You. Stalked. Me.”

“Oh fine, I’ll confess: I’m used to the stalkers and I thought it was high time I did some stalking and see what the fun was all about,” he joins in on making fun of himself.

“Someone get me a restraining order,” I say just as someone approaches our table with drinks. As soon as they leave we burst out laughing.

“So have you given the music video any more thought?” Harry asks as the evening continues.

“Can we not talk about this right now?” I ask.

“I just think you should give it serious thought. I know you want to go into PR, be somebody’s Graham, but you have a really good eye for this thing. Before you pursue what you think you want, try this out.”

“You’re one dude,” I say again. “Who believes I can do this. You want me to throw away the career I’ve worked on for years to dabble in this and potentially waste time instead of getting to where I want?”

“Firstly, if you love doing something it’s not time wasted. And secondly you only ever need just one person to believe in you, angel.”

His fingers brush mine on the table, the familiar electricity courses through me just through the small touch. And of course, his use of pet names always turned me to putty. I hated how malleable he made me.

“Consider it. Just write a proposal y/n, it’s not betraying Oretta or anything. I can talk to her if you want if they choose your idea.”

It was scary putting myself out there for something I didn’t believe in myself for. But my echoes of burnout grow towards the idea of doing something less demanding than being an assistant just like a sunflower to the sun. It basks in letting my creativity flow.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Not for too long,” he taps my fingers again. We were cautious about being too touchy in public, even in a place like this where people genuinely didn’t care who he was. “Proposal’s due at the end of next week.”

When I would be back home in America. Away from here. Him.

We hadn’t talked about it, if we would try to keep in touch. I can’t really imagine a long-distance thing with Harry. Not at this stage. Mostly we enjoyed being in each other’s company and I was scared forcing labels just because we would be apart would ruin this fragile thing.

“Fine.” He’d worn me down and I submit. “Fine I’ll get something in for you.”

He pulls back with a shocked expression. “Did I just convince the stubborn y/n y/l/n to do something she didn’t want to do?”

I scowl. “Don’t get used to it.”

“I won’t,” he laughs, waving his hands around him like he was fanning in an aroma. “I’m soaking this in though.”

“Whatever,” I say with a smile.

“You make me work hard,” he smiles back. “For everything y/n. That’s one of the things I l-I-that I really like about you.”

We ignore the near slip of something far too serious for what we had going. We move past it but it sets my heart racing.

“So this friend of yours,” I change the subject. “With the music video. Didn’t you guys have like, beef when you were on tour? All that article stuff?”

“You of all people should know not to believe what you see online. It was all manipulated and put out of context.”

“I know but you were all moody for all your shows afterwards. I remember Jeff and Graham complaining. I assumed the articles had worn you down a bit.”

He raises a brow like he’s waiting on me to figure something out.

“What?”

“Really? You think it was the artcles?”

“Well what else happened that-“

Oh god. Was I that stupid?

Of course it wasn’t the articles, it was me! Us.

A smile stretches over the contours of his face as realization dawns on mine, “Twice in a row I’ve got you today, I should buy a lottery ticket.”

“I’m off my game today is all, don’t get used to it.”

I can’t believe it. Not that I didn’t believe Harry after the last few weeks but I—that night—really meant that much to him that his feelings over it had affected the rest of his tour? I had affected his tour?

“Why didn’t you say anything if it was weighing on you so much? If I recall I tried to talk to you a couple times.” I ask.

“What could I say,” he snorts. “You were engaged and my loss of control was why you cheated. Then you were quitting and I knew if I said anything you might have stayed. I didn’t want to keep you where you didn’t want to be.”

His words tug at my heart. He really had thought up a storm.

“Harry,” I lean back. “Gray and I broke up before I joined you guys on tour again. We weren’t cheating.”

His forehead creases, “What?! But you were together at my London show. I thought you two broke up after you moved back home?”

“No,” I guess in the last few weeks I’d just mentioned we broke up a long time ago. He didn’t know any specifics. “We were fake-together because he hadn’t broken the news to his sister then. But that’s why I was all…y’know in Barcelona-“

“Fuck me,” he groans. “No wonder you thought I was an ass for pulling you away-“

“Well you were-“

“Yeah alright-“

“Why did you really pull me away though?”

“I…I was feeling a bit possessive.”

“What?”

I wasn’t expecting that to come out of his mouth. He smiles sheepishly, “I thought we already came to terms with that.”

My stomach does a few somersaults. Until tonight I don’t think I’ve really focused on the magnitude of how Harry felt back then. Parts of my mind were still remembering him as a prick just because it was easier to remember my side of things. But this spins things in a brighter light.

“I was just your assistant though.”

“Y/N,” he tilts his head to the side. “Did I not already tell you what I thought about you that night in my flat?”

“Yeah but-“

“I’d never met anyone like you, I really liked you. I couldn’t have you though and I had to push you away constantly. And that drove me a bit crazy sometimes.”

I let out a noisy breath, wondering if how he felt about me was just as intense now as it was then. A part of me knows it must be. Feelings like that didn’t fade. But here I was, barely knowing what it was I felt for him. All I knew was that it was nice when we were together.

Why me, I want to ask. But I hold back. It wasn’t a question I could ask my ex-employer current-lover part-time-asshole.

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “Was that a bit strong?”

“No,” I sigh again and he laughs. “Fine. A little. But it’s fine, I’m okay.”

“Okay,” he believes me. “So you broke off your engagement and didn’t tell anyone?”

“Kinda, we weren’t in a place we could come back from. We decided that mutually after things blew up. He didn’t even know I was leaving the country actually.”

Harry whistles. “You ran out on all of us.”

I scratch the side of my head, “Maybe?”

“Well I’ve enjoyed having you again, here.” He says with sincerity. “I’m really relieved to be able to get to say everything I wanted to your face.”

I agree. Neither of us mention I was leaving later in the week.

Even by the night before I’m leaving London we still hadn’t discussed a thing. But there’s a heaviness to us as we have dinner at his, as we pretend to watch a movie only to cuddle on the couch. We lay there facing each other and I trace his eyes, his nose, his wonderful mouth. It’s so odd to me that this was the same Harry Styles performing in sold out venues and on the walls of teenage bedrooms. That I got to have him in these quiet moments and be present.

I feel so grateful for this. That I didn’t have to carry around these draining stories within me anymore, that it felt like it happened to someone else. In a way even if nothing came from all this, I got closure. I was able to move on now.

I imagine my heart and it feels like when you take a stroll mid-March and realize nature was healing from winter’s blues. Warm and blooming the earth was growing again—my heart was growing stronger. Now the idea of a date or a partner didn’t seem so daunting and exhausting. I would never have guessed that it would take the man who almost broke me to come into my life again for me to see how to fit those pieces back in place again.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do not having you in town anymore,” his lashes flutter as I run my hand through his hair. It was still shorter than I was used to but it had grown in the last three weeks.

“Oh you’ll be fine,” I say. “I’ve worked on your schedule before: meetings and studio sessions and photoshoots and interviews.”

“A busy life isn’t always a full one,” he whispers. And it’s the closest thing to a confession we were going to get to. I cover his mouth with mine and we indulge in each other one final time.

There is a symphony of unexpected but undeniable intimacy woven between the beats of our entwined hearts. I know I would probably never feel this way with anyone and I don’t think I’d want to. Being with Harry was passion. It was losing myself and finding myself at the same time. It was being vulnerable and guarded and cherished and known.

My flight out tomorrow is around noon but I can’t stay the night as I’d have to help Oretta in the morning to make sure everything gets to the airport in time. Harry walks me down to his lobby and we stand there for a few, just holding each other tight. He doesn’t ask me to stay and I don’t ask him to come.

“This isn’t goodbye y/n,” Harry says when we part. His hand rests on his heart. I know the feeling, mine aches so hard I want to press my hand to it just to tell it everything would be fine.

“No,” I shake my head. My eyes had been teary ever since he squeezed me to him. “We’ll talk soon.”

“You’ll be directing music videos soon.”

I roll my eyes, “I’m still working on the proposal.”

“I have a good feeling about it.”

“That makes one of us. But…thanks for believing in me.”

“Thanks for believing in me,” he whispers. “Even when you didn’t have to.”

I’m glad I did. The only time in my life not paying attention to the warning bells had paid off.

“I’ve been working with this new producer and he wants me to come out to a studio in Cotati?” Harry mentions. “How far is that from where you are? Are you still in m Burbank?”

“Burbank’s where my parents are,” I shake my head. I look up what he’s talking about and feel a thrill when it’s less than a couple hours. Still, I try to maintain neutrality. “A little over an hour?”

“Well,” he brushes my hair over my shoulder and keeps his eyes looking just over it. “Depending on what you’re doing—maybe if you’re free…we can see each other again?”

I would love that. My heart is bursting just thinking of getting to have him in the place I called home. Of this meaning something. Of him wanting to see me again.

“Of course if you have a boyfriend by then and he doesn’t want you to see me that’s…I mean, live your life and if it works out we-“

“Yes,” I cut him off. “Yeah. Let’s see but that sounds good.”

He meets my gaze and I laugh a little, he was nervous and that was rare.

“Good,” he smiles with. “Until next time.”

“Until next time,” I step into his arms and it’s a quick affair before he steps away. I turn to head out the door, shielding my eyes from him. Not wanting him to see that this was stupidly hard to say goodbye.

He waves me off and I head back to my hotel with a heavy heart. But I think about him asking to see me again. Who knows when that would be. And I know this wasn’t the end of our story.

***

I’m happy to land in SFO the following evening, happy to busy myself with Oretta’s business, happy to have Winnie chattering away. I spent parts of the flight I wasn’t sleeping working on my MV proposal and it awakens a familiar passion inside of me I’d been afraid I’d lost.

I send out a silent thanks to Harry for knowing what was good for me.

I think of Harry often, Gray even less until I don’t think of him at all. I dream of London weekly; I missed it this time around. And as life resumes again I anticipate the change I sense on the horizon.

So when life gives me lemons I stop asking Do I or Don’t I. If one thing the last year has taught me was I had to listen to my gut and look at the signs. I had to start asking what I wanted and go after it. Even though Harry and I barely talk, I remember the lessons he’s taught me.

I stop looking to others to make decisions. There’s no guidebook or lists to help me make my decisions either. I take deep breaths and I believe in myself.

I build a new life on the remains of my old. I don’t let it dictate what I did anymore, I simply leave it as the foundation to elevate me even higher. I reach for the sky with my feet planted firmly on the ground. And I grow with reckless abandon.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

TAGLIST: @boomitsallie1 @indierockgirrl @ndunad @jerseygirlinca @sunshinemoonsposts @ninasw0rld @love-letters-to-uranus @mayamonroem @sassamanda77 @harryspirate

🤍

115 notes · View notes