#solarium fic

[lunardeao3]

Just wanted to inform you there won't be any chapter posted during the incoming week cause I'm moving out on Saturday and need to finish boxing everything. Thanks for your comprehension, I'll post again probably on Tuesday 19th!

#ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #wolfstar #marauders era #regulus black #sirius black #dfo – universe #jegulus #harry potter #downfall fic #solarium fic #bloodhound fic #james potter #remus lupin #draco malfoy #drarry #drarry fic #TAF(IL) Fic #rosekiller

[mafiasliege]

I dare you to let me go

(this is part 3 of my javery fanfic. Enjoy reading!)

Part 2↓

AVERY

If there's one thing Avery had learned as a 21 year old philanthropist, it's that it doesn't matter how rich you are or how many people you have working for you, if you want something done correctly, you have to do it yourself. 

She was beyond frustrated as she walked into the foyer of the Hawthorne House. It still gave her the same homely comfort. She couldn't wait to go to bed and fall asleep with Jameson wrapped around her. She missed seeing him awake. She sometimes hoped that he couldn't fall asleep so that they could talk and spend some time together. 

Where was he? She stopped walking when she saw Lyra in the solarium with a cigarette in one hand and a glass in the other. 

I should ask her. 

"Hey" 

"Oh look who decided to show up" Lyra seemed annoyed to Avery, but she couldn't make out why. 

"What's wrong?" She asked.

"What's wrong? You didn't even show up to your own birthday party!" 

"Wha-" realisation dawned on Avery mid-sentence. Her blood turned to ice as Lyra grew even more pissed than before.

"You're seriously not telling me you forgot your own birthday. I bet you don't even remember about last night's dinner plan with your beau." 

Dinner pla- the card. Oh no. 

She had it with her, but she'd forgotten to solve the riddle on it. But Lyra seemed agitated enough already, so she stayed quiet. 

"I'm so sorry, Ly. I'm so, so sorry. Where is everyone?"

Where is Jameson? 

"All about the house. I haven't seen Jamie, either. Maybe he's still waiting in the miserable little party room" she sassed, Avery couldn't blame her.

Her thoughts came to a screeching hault as she went to the ballroom. It was covered in platinum and violet decorations and a banner that said 'Happy Birthday to the Prettiest Girl on Earth!' It was gorgeous. Guilt hit her like a brick.

How many occasions like this had she missed and didn't know? 

"Avery?" 

"Xander."

"Where were you?" He said with a frown. Xander Hawthorne almost never frowned. She didn't answer Xander's question and instead asked her own.

"Where's Jameson?" 

"I don't know. He's probably tryna catch a breath in the solarium or the passageways." 

"Catching a breath?"

Yep. I've screwed up.

"Yeah. He seemed upset. We waited for you for two hours in a crouch. We're going to have a funeral for our toes," he told her. He didn't put his usual xander-esque sarcastic flair to it. 

Correction: I've screwed up, bad. 

Avery called Oren over and told him to find Jameson. 

In the time that Avery, Grayson and Xander got to Jameson's wing, everyone else had also started searching for him and tried to call him. She slipped inside his room. It always smelled so… him. He still wore the same perfume she got for him on his birthday. She pushed aside the nostalgia and started looking for anything that was out of order. So far, everything was normal - messy room, chair piled full of clothes. Pictures of her on his nightstand. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the bathroom door slightly ajar.

"We found nothing. Did you?" 

She could not did not answer Grayson and Xander as she pushed the bathroom door. It gave out a long squeak, as if to make a grand entrance to the horror it was. She heard Xander gasp and Grayson suck in a breath.

The mirror was shattered into a million pieces. The cracks were concentric, meaning he'd probably punched it. He had punched it, considering the crimson in the sink. Avery saw a thousand reflections of herself in the gleaming pieces. She recognised none. How could I have been so blind? She could feel the dread and panic brewing in her gut.

A box lay on the ground. She gingerly picked it up. 

"I'll go see if Oren found out anything" said Grayson, and took Xander away with him.

-------------------------------------------

"He did what?" Avery said in disbelief.

"He was last seen at the airport." 

"And that's all you found out?" Asked Grayson.

"Yes. They said they were legally restrained from sharing the whereabouts of a person's private jets or their destinations." 

"He got a plane? When?" How would've been the better question, but she chose the indirect path of questioning. She knew he frequently visited the devil's mercy. He'd won The Annual Game twice now. She didn't know what he traded the winner's seal for the second time, but it was clearly enough to buy a plane. Another blow of guilt hit her at how different things were the first time he'd won versus now.

"An year ago. Probably to avoid getting found in situations such as this one."

This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. Did she miss more dates and break more promises than she would have liked? Yes. But he couldn't just up and go whenever and wherever. He couldn't fly off with zero explanations leaving her worried and confused.

He couldn't just leave like that.

Avery decided to ask Grayson to use his… resources, but he was already on the phone with his PI.

"It's getting late, kid. We should all get some sleep" said Nash, who'd spoken for the first time since the discussion started. Everyone started going back to their rooms. But Grayson followed Avery.

"Avery, wait." She turned around, knowing why he'd stopped her.

"I'm alright, Grayson, really. And he'll come back, I'm sure. This isn't him."

"And this didn't used to be you, either. But here we are."

"What does that mean?"

"It means Jamie isn't just 'coming back.' You're family, Avery. You've been one of us ever since you came here. But we've all seen you two for the last few years" he stopped talking, as if struggling to say what came after.

"You were there without really being there. And I understand, it's not easy, being so young and changing the world. Jamie waited for you and accepted bits and pieces because he loves you too much. But you did break his heart, and you weren't even there to witness it. You didn't even notice until he disappeared."

-------------------------------------------------

Avery got to her room and shut the door.

She pulled out the card- the one that Jameson gave her. It was a fairly easy riddle, easy because he might've been thinking she wouldn't waste spend too much time solving it.

Rrain oon oour rooffs imittates the soound of clapps blaaring in a ttheatre. <3

You just had to pluck out the unnecessary letters. And when the less-than symbol was inverted and attached to the 3, the kiss symbol looked like an 8.

Rooftop at 8. It said rooftop at 8pm, for a dinner plan. Probably followed by stargazing, as she loved to do. She'd rant about starts and constellations; how she felt slightly humbled staring at them, and Jameson would just listen fondly. She'd taken him for granted, hadn't she? And she could bet she hasn't been much humble at times, either.

But she'd always loved him.

She just hadn't shown it. That was probably one of her biggest regrets.

And then, only in the privacy of her room could she manage to open the box. She could not open it in that bathroom and risk crying in front of everyone. The tears started falling only after she flipped open the lid.

Nestled inside was an emerald-studded ring.

#the inheritance games #tig fanfic #jameson x avery #jameson hawthorne #avery x jameson #tig #the grandest game #avery grambs #the brothers hawthorne #averyjameson #javery #the hawthorne brothers #grayson hawthorne #xander hawthorne #nash hawthorne #IDYTLMG

[dcartcorner]

It's a very busy weekend over here, so I don't have a lot of time to do art! Instead, please accept this little fic based on the ghost!Peter and witch!Simon art. It's still a work in progress! And standard disclaimer writing is not my forte! -holds up peter and simon and elias- i just think they're neat. Apologies for any errors ^^

(Edit: Can be found on Ao3 as well)

Something Wicked (WIP) Characters: Simon Fairchild, Peter Lukas (more to come, including Elias Bouchard) Ship: None for now, but eventual FoggySkies (potential Simon/Peter/Elias? Who knows!) Warnings: none

There was a house in the middle of the woods. It was an old thing, with vines crawling up and over its walls and its arches, nestled between the tall, gloomy pines. It was entirely out of place, and yet looked like it could not have possibly belonged anywhere else. It was abandoned and had been abandoned for a long time - so said the nearby townsfolk who knew of it as a local legend - and saw as little sunlight as it did travellers. Peter knew of this house because it was where he lived, insomuch as ghosts lived anywhere at all. 

His ship, he recalled, had crashed along the rocky shores not too far away, and he’d wandered unknowingly into the woods, searching for help. He was not sure when, precisely, he realized he was dead. But it wasn’t as shocking as it perhaps should have been. 

Though, if pressed for a precise moment it became apparent to him he was no longer counted amongst the strictly living, he might have said it was when he came to the house and raised his hand to knock on the dark oak door, and his knuckles passed straight through, followed by his hand, and his wrist. He was not sure what he thought he should have felt, but he had to admit that a not-insignificant part of him felt relieved. No more people, no more eyes watching him, no more need for social niceties and exhausting daily interactions. It was peaceful, and, well, there was nothing he could rightly do about it in the end. So, he decided he would enjoy the solitary afterlife, and that would be that. 

After determining as much, he went inside, looking for nothing in particular, and he explored what he resolved would be his new home. 

He had not expected to find another body in it. But there it was, lying on a settee in what would have reasonably been considered a solarium if not for the dense covering of trees that smothered the windows above and all around. Peter paused and watched the unmoving body. A small figure, and old in appearance. Age must have claimed him. Peter suspected that other people might have felt sorry for this person if they found him like that, but Peter considered him quite lucky in his demise. It seemed peaceful enough, at least, and lonely. Peter stepped nearer, taking a closer look, and as he looked he wondered what the difference was - between passing over entirely or lingering on as a ghost. What made it so that this man rested there with no spirit, and he was left wandering the woods? That was, he supposed, one of the great questions of the universe. 

The answer to this question, however, would come to him very shortly after that thought crossed his mind, as he was watching the face of this stranger. Suddenly, the stranger opened his eyes. 

Peter reeled backwards. He watched as the man blinked a few times, as if waking from a daydream. 

“Oh,” the man said when sky blue eyes turned to Peter. “Hello.”

Peter froze.

“Now, now. No need to be shy,” the man said, sitting up with a huff and rolling his wrists. They cracked. “You are in my house, after all. I have to imagine it’s to see me. Don’t get many visitors otherwise. I’m not entirely sure why.” A chuckle. “But there you have it.” Still, Peter said nothing. “Well, if you’d like the short of it: no, there is nothing I can do for your condition. Dead is dead, isn’t it. Well, except for when it’s not. But you are dead. Dead, dead. The sort of dead that can’t be fixed.  Terribly sorry.”

And that was how Peter met Simon Fairchild. Which was to say, against his will.

Then again, he supposed that was how he’d met most people in his life.

The man stood up and adjusted one of his cuffs. “Do feel free to stay as long as you’d like. Ghosts make for good guests. Less trouble than werewolves, let me tell you. After the last time I said to myself, I said, ‘Simon, no more taking in strays. You’re too busy for that.’” He sighed amenably. “Never take my own advice, it seems. 

“You can see me?” Peter asked, because he did not know how else to contribute to the conversation the man - Simon - seemed insistent on having. 

“Oh, yes,” replied Simon, moving past Peter to a globe bar. “You spend long enough Looking, you end up seeing quite a bit.”

“And… you can hear me?” Peter asked.

Simon looked over his shoulder at Peter. “Oh, yes. You spend long enough Listening, you end up-”

“I… understand,” Peter said, holding up his hand to stop him. 

Simon smiled, and turned back to his task of pouring himself a drink. “I’d offer you one, but it wouldn’t do you much good. One of the very great misfortunes of ghostliness. So, what’s your name? How did you turn up in my neck of the woods?” There was a pull in Simon’s words. Something… compelling, which gave Peter pause, for he’d felt such a thing a long time ago. Perhaps that was why he was able to ignore the question. 

“Are you a witch?” he asked instead, for that was what his mother had been, and she’d often used that same sort of compelling way of speaking to get her way in the house, and those were unhappy times.

Simon paused and slowly glanced over at Peter, smile faltering in surprise. Then a huff of breath that sounded like a chuckle. “That’s what they call me over in Scrimshaw, at least,” he said, “amongst other things.” He lifted the drink - something golden and dark - to his lips and watched Peter with eyes through which the sky seemed to fall. “Doesn’t much stop them from demanding potion and poultice and miracle cure-alls whenever I drop by.” He put on a voice and went on, “‘Look there, a witch for the fire!’ they say. ‘Oh but first, kind witch, mightn’t you help me with this rash? Come for tea, I’ll tell you all about it.’” He sighed in a long-suffering sort of way and resumed his normal tone, saying, “Makes you wonder, doesn’t it.”

It didn’t, but Peter did not say as much. 

“So, must I ask you again for your name?” Simon inquired. 

“Depends on what you want it for,” Peter replied. 

“My, my, but you are a quick one, aren’t you?” Simon said. As he did, there was a ruckus and a great, black raven flew into the solarium from a doorway behind Peter, and landed itself atop a crooked perch. It looked down at Simon with a glassy eye that reminded Peter of volcanic stone. Simon ignored it. “Close encounter with a witch before?”

“My mother,” Peter supplied. 

Simon clicked his tongue. “Ah,” he said. “Very sorry. Well, you have my word, it’s for nothing more than satiating my own curiosity.”

That seemed well and good, and so he said, “Peter Lukas. Captain… Peter Lukas. Of the Tundra.”

“Captain,” Simon repeated with what Peter thought might have been a hint of delight in his voice. “Not very often I get to meet a captain. How wonderful. That was your wreck on the northern shore, then? Horrible disaster. One has to wonder how something so dreadful came to be.”

“There was a fog,” Peter said. He looked up at the raven. It did not seem to notice him in the same way that Simon noticed him.

Simon’s smile vanished. “A fog,” he repeated, and he was silent for a long moment, thinking about something. “I see…”

Peter took this silence as a mark against his character, and so he frowned, brows furrowing together, as he said. “It was unnatural. Fog like that, not the best sailor in the world could have found their way out of it.”

Simon blinked slowly. “Ah, no. No, no, you mustn’t think I’m slandering you.  The fog is quite… unique, in these parts. Has a will of its own, you might say. I dare say there was nothing you nor any soul upon your ship could have done to prevent the outcome.”

“Hm.” Peter was satisfied enough with that. 

Simon put his drink down. The raven quwork-ed. “I do hate to cut this introduction short,” he said, and he seemed… wary. Though of what, Peter couldn’t say. The mention of the fog seemed to have soured his mood. “But there’s a… house call, I should make.” The smile flickered across Simon’s face again. “Make yourself at home. I’m sure you’ll need some time to become… acquainted with your new situation.” He began to move towards the door with a speed Peter would not have expected of someone of Simon’s age. “Happy haunting.” And with that, he was gone. 

Peter stood in the solarium for a good long while, watching where Simon had left before he turned his gaze about the room and to the trees outside, watching the mists dancing through the pines. And, with nothing else to do but wander, so he went, and began to learn the halls of the house in the woods. All things considered, it was hardly the worst sort of afterlife. 

#tma #the mangus archives #fanfic #wip #peter lukas #simon fairchild #ghost!peter #witch!simon

[delucadarlingwriting]

Wayhaven Regency AU

This is a little fic idea I've been throwing around with @crownleys after we spent ALL WEEKEND binging Bridgerton. We've had an AU for ages where we've thrown our detectives (hers, Kira Kingston, and mine Lucas and Barbara Robertson) together and played with how Wayhaven might go with them all involved, so of course we started to 'what if' with them all in a Regency era AU.

Note: this is history lite, generously speaking. N would be horrified, I'm sure.

(Also doing my best to keep this out of the main tag, but if it ends up there anyway, I apologize)

Word count: 716

Summary: Kira Kingston is making her debut into society this year, no matter what her mother, the Dowager Baroness Rebecca Kingston, has to say about it.

Next

"We've put off my debut for four years now!" Kira exclaims. Barbara sighs and slips a ribbon between the pages of her book, closing it gently so that she may better pay attention to her young friend's words. The strawberry blond brows on her face have drawn nearly to touching and her mouth is set into a ferocious expression.

"Has your mother responded to your letter?" Barbara asks, knowing full well the answer. It stands to reason that Kira needs the reminder though.

Of course, this is when Lucas decides to waltz in from outside, where he had apparently been lingering and listening. His waistcoat is entirely unbuttoned and his shoes are muddy. Barbara frowns as he trods all over the nice rug.

"That should hardly matter at this point," Lucas says, his voice booming in the solarium. Kira's face lights up.

"So you agree?" she demands. Lucas laughs.

"Of course I do." He comes over and slings an arm around Kira's shoulders. Barbara growls.

"If you're going to insist on entering society, you'll have to be used to warding off improper behavior," Barbara says, indicating her brother. Kira shrugs.

"It's just Lucas," she replies. Barbara shakes her head.

"He's not your relative though, and no one else will care that he wouldn't take liberties with you. It's all about the appearance of the matter. It's all about what it could be." Barbara can't help lecturing Kira a bit, even though Kira is only half-listening. She knows all of this already.

Lucas takes his arm away to humor her. "Look, I'm the Earl now, right?"

"Right," Kira says, despite him clearly having been speaking to Barbara.

"And you've been a ward of the Earl-myself and my dear dead father before me-for what, ten years?" Lucas shakes his head. "I think at this point I have enough sway to determine you're ready to join the rest of the ton."

"Yes!" Kira says, throwing her arms around Lucas. Barbara simply looks away, to better pretend they aren't acting abominably. Lucas laughs again.

"So I shall send the two of you to the modiste as soon as we arrive to London," Lucas says. Barbara turns back, her interest gained. She would love to have a few new dresses. Shoes as well.

"You know very well I'll be making my own dresses," Kira says with her arms crossed. Lucas grins.

"Surely so. Will you be telling everyone?" he asks. Kira shrugs.

"Perhaps."

"Perhaps," Barbara cuts in, "you should focus on telling your mother. Lady Kingston deserves to know that her daughter plans to debut this year."

Kira scoffs. "Rebecca has no need to know. It's hardly as if she finds the time to return any of my letters as it is. I doubt she even opens them."

Neither Robertson denies the possibility. The dowager baroness has struggled dearly since the death of her husband, known best as Rook. The rest of the ton continues to speak of him (with wildly varying opinions on his behavior), which is something Lady Kingston has never been able to bear. Even Kira knows almost nothing of her father.

"It would be a courtesy," Barbara points out. After a moment, she adds, "A courtesy we may wish to...skip, where our mama is concerned."

With a grunt, Lucas nods. "Certainly. She'll pitch such a fuss I worry we'd never manage to leave the country house at all."

"Perhaps we can leave ahead of her this year?" Barbara suggests. Lucas winks.

"Dear sister, you prove yet again to the be the brains to my beauty."

Rolling her eyes, Barbara rises from her seat. Kira, gearing up to defend Barbara's honor in the face of her brother's insult, calms considerably when Barbara loops an arm through hers. "Let's go and compose your letter, dear, and then we might begin preparations for our leave."

Kira nods. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt. She's rarely ever at the family home, and I've yet to see her in London during the season anyhow."

"Exactly," Barbara says, the tension in her shoulders easing. "I doubt we should even see her at all for the entire season."

#darling writing #I have no idea if tumblr still only takes the first five tags #so apologies if this ends up in the main tag #4 #5 #wayhaven #twc #regency au

[live-the-fangirl-life]

Divine Intervention

Aelin Galathynius x Rowan Whitethorn

“The Ouija board says you’re a little shit.” / “Oh my gods, I think the crystal ball is working. The spirits are telling me you’re a dumbass.”

Written for Rowaelin Month 2022 Day 7: Holiday Celebration

Masterlist | Read on Ao3 | Rowaelin Month | Halloween Collection

Warnings: Language

1132 words

*This is purely fun, I dont any intend offense to those who believe in or perform the practices joked about in this fic.

*******

The storm outside raged on.

Thunder roared and howling winds tore through the night as lighting fractured the darkening sky; each blinding flash illuminating the dark canopy of rolling clouds, and giving form to the barren tree branches that crashed against each pane of the solarium’s large windows. Glass rattled in its aging frames as it withstood the onslaught of convulsing bark and torrential rain.

Inside, protected from the dangers both natural and otherwise, dozens of candles flickered, slowly melting and casting shadows across the faces of everyone in the room.

As the door closed on the mix-matched group of seven, shutting them in and setting the scene for the night ahead, the cacophony of sounds was muted by the old house, but nonetheless sang a haunting melody perfect for Halloween Night.  

Aelin took that as her cue.

“The time has come!” She clapped, demanding everyone’s attention, and gestured towards the round table in the center of the room surrounded by seven cushions. “Take your place so that we may reach out to the spirits of the beyond.���

Aelin was nothing if not committed. If she decided to use her uncle's mansion as a Halloween haven then she left no inch undecorated. If she chose to hand out candy to trick-or-treaters then she would buy the best damn candy she could find. If she was dressed up as a fortune teller...then she was going to tell some fortunes. And there were no other people she would rather do so with than her friends in this room, regardless of whether they appreciated it or not.

“You’re as much a fortune teller as I am a nun,” Lysandra shot back but grinned as she plopped down on the floor to Aelin’s right and adjusted the short Wonder Woman skirt around her. Aedion, sitting down on Lysandra’s other side, chuckled as he fanned his Superman cape behind him.

“I’ve been bestowed the all-seeing gift by Saint Halloween himself,” Aelin retorted, settling in, and waited for the rest of their group to take their seats.

“It’s Halloween – All Hallows Eve,” Rowan huffed a laugh, taking one of his plastic knives and resting it between him and Aelin, “there is no Saint Halloween. This isn’t Valentine’s day.”

Fenrys removed his eyepatch and chimed in with a smirk, “And are you trying to say this so-called Saint is from the same belief system as –”

“Would you just— okay— c’mon— can we immerse ourselves, please?” Aelin groaned. But just then, another bolt of lightning flashed and lit up the room. She muttered a quiet thank you under her breath before reclaiming her character. “The spirits are near.”

Draped over the table was a rich, plum-colored, crushed velvet cloth. The only thing atop it was the opaque crystal ball cradled in its stand directly in front of Aelin. She leaned in close, trying to pull attention to the crystal –

“Weren’t you two,” Aedion interrupted, waving a finger at Elide and Lorcan, “supposed to be the Fortune Teller and Knife Thrower?”

Aelin sighed, drawing back from the table, and pinched the bridge of her nose. She rolled her eyes and looked at her Rowan. “Yes. But this one refused to wear the wig–”

“And we,” Elide jumped in, leaning into Lorcan’s shoulder, “look more like the Adams’ than those two blondes ever will.”

Not that Rowan was blonde…white…silver…close enough; the point still stood. Especially since Elide and Lorcan’s Morticia and Gomez Adams were scarily accurate. And this way, Aelin could have a little fun. So what if the Fortune Teller dress was a few inches too short?

“Broaden your minds!” Aelin urged in an airy vibrato as she swept her hands above the crystal. “You must look beyond! The art of crystal gazing is in the clearing of the Inner Eye!”

Aedion leaned closer to Lysandra and whispered, “Isn’t that a line from Harry Potter?”

He wasn’t as quiet as he thought he was. Especially when Elide confirmed from his other side, “The movies, not the books.”

Ignoring them both, Aelin lifted her voice. “We call upon the divine spirits this dark and stormy All Hallows Eve. Reveal yourselves on this night as the barrier between life and death is at its weakest.”

Fenrys snorted.

She paused with both hands raised in an overdramatic flourish and cut a sharp look his way. The tipsy Pirate didn’t even try to hide his smirk as he jerked his head towards a board resting on an old truck in the corner of the room. “The Ouija board says you’re a little shit.”

He groaned and shot Rowan a glare when the man’s elbow jabbed into his ribs. Across from them, Aedion coughed, trying his best to hide a grin.

Arching a single brow, Aelin held Fenrys’ gaze, but then her attention flew back to the crystal ball and she drew in a sharp breath. She ignored the stares she felt boring into her as she leaned closer to the opaque crystal and gingerly touched her palm to its surface.

“Oh, my gods, I think the crystal ball is working,” she explained breathlessly. Nodding quickly, Aelin looked between the ball and a now wary-looking Fenrys. The others mirrored her and leaned closer, out of curiosity or belief, she wasn’t sure, but she placed both hands upon the crystal and closed her eyes, focusing. A second later, her eyes snapped open, and her stare immediately met the Pirate’s. “The spirits are telling me you’re a dumbass.”

A loud snort came from Lorcan’s direction, and the next moment Elide was laughing too; the sound quickly echoing around the circle. Even Aelin couldn’t help the way her lips ticked up into a smirk before pulling herself back into character.

“Tonight, I shall look into the great beyond to discover your futures.” Aelin kicked the fog machine she’d set up under the table until silvery plumes swirled in the air.

She then swapped her low, lilting voice for a rapid, quickfire one that could’ve marveled a master auctioneer. “I am not licensed – in any capacity legally, spiritually, or otherworldly – a fortune teller, clairvoyant, oracle, or other synonymous authority. All actions performed tonight are purely for entertainment and should not be used as a basis for any life-altering decisions; any of which, I shall not be held responsible for. Any and all predictions, premonitions, or readings I divine are not legally binding and cannot be held as evidence in a court of law.”

She took a pause for breath and the momentary silence was immediately filled with more of her friends’ laughter. This time, she fully welcomed the grin spreading across her face.

“Now!” Aelin cried, once again adopting that wavering cadence to her words. “Give me your hands, and let us look into the beyond!”

*****

Taglist:

@acourtofsnakes @allthebooksunderthemoon @astra-ad-mare @becarefuloflove @booklover41802 @charlizeed @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @danibutterr @doubt-less @emily-gsh @enormousbooklover @foughtconquered @fromthelibraryofemilyj @hakunamatatazz @i-have-but-one-brain-cell @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @jorjy-jo @lemonade-coolattas @mariamuses @mayhemories @midsizewitch @rowaelinrambling @morganofthewildfire @nerdperson524 @rowaelinismyotp @rowansfirebringer @sayosdreams @sheharahu @sleeping-and-books @stardelia @story-scribbler @superspiritfestival @elentiyawhitethorn @swankii-art-teacher @tomtenadia @westofmoon @whimsicallyreading @moodymelanist @realbookloverproblems @gracie-rosee @julemmaes @yesdreamblog @the-regal-warrior @rowanaelinn @thestoriesyoutell @autumnbabylon @sunflowermoonshinewrites @maastrash @annejulianneh111 @the-lonelybarricade

#rowaelin #aelin x rowan #rowan x aelin #aelin #Rowan #aelin galythinius #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius x rowan whitethorn #aelin and rowan #rowan and aelin #rowaelin fic #rowaelin oneshot #rowaelin au #rowaelin fanfiction #throne of glass #tog #rowaelinmonth #rowaelinmonth2022

[lefemmerougewriter]

Alternatively called solariums, conservatories, sun parlors, or sun porches, these [sun]rooms had the advantage of bringing in outside light while serving as a shelter from adverse weather. They often featured passive solar heating, with the sun’s rays easily illuminating the room. In some cultures, these rooms were secluded and partially enclosed within a garden. In the case of this hideout, the sunroom had the dual purpose of collecting sunlight for warmth and offering scenic views. Most of the walls were composed of framed glass. There were also internal climate controls to make sure it was the right temperature inside the room.

A description of sunrooms in my AO3 fic entitled "A Red Moonstone Shines Brightly". Funny enough, I wrote most of this fic before I moved into my new apartment which... has a sunroom!

#crossovers #cassandra tangled #carmen sandiego #lgbtq #ao3fic #lesbians #ao3 link #cassunzel #sun room #quotes #my fic #carmen x cassandra

[when-did-this-become-difficult]

Rules: Share the first line of your last ten published works or as many as you are able and see if there are any patterns!

tagged by @nerdsandthelike - thank you! can't be arsed to login as my writing tumblr so i'm just posting on here and tagging people however i please @alliluyevas, @imperatorkhaleesi, @drabbles-mc, @hausofmamadas, @narcolini, @saathi1013, @cositapreciosa, @garbinge, @salt-is-a-terrible-currency, @axreliono, @proceduralpassion

do i know you — The Bear (TV 2022)

two in the morning.

Frolic — Chronicles of Narnia - C.S. Lewis

"I say," said the new King, astonished.

Gift — Chronicles of Narnia - C.S. Lewis & Game of Thrones (TV)

Susan knew her wife did not enjoy it when she sojourned to other worlds, so once she had hugged her children and changed out of her mud-stained clothes, she found Sansa in the solarium.

Wager — Chronicles of Narnia - C.S. Lewis & Game of Thrones (TV)

With Brienne behind bars in the slave holdings, the passing spectators talked about her like she wasn't even there, and Brienne decided that the best course would be to pretend they weren't there either.

on eagles — Chronicles of Narnia - C.S. Lewis & Game of Thrones (TV)

In the fifth month of siege, Brienne was so much herself with him that she was almost, at times, not a Knight.

no witness — Narcos: Mexico (TV)

It’s been so long that his old phone number doesn’t work, but if there’s one way to reach Walt Breslin, it’s to call the DEA and lie.

blood on vacation — Narcos: Mexico (TV)

You’ve only been Mexico City for a week, and you’re already all vacationed out.

Sugar — The Bear (TV 2022)

The morning after Pete's first Berzatto Christmas, Natalie sleeps badly all night long, getting up to use the bathroom, pulling covers on or off, batting away half-remembered dreams.

deep breaths — The Bear (TV 2022)

Kitchen, dead.

he keeps his rules. you keep him. — Narcos (TV)

He has a key to your apartment, but he’s not used it in a while.

Very odd! I tried to spot patterns, just like nerdsandthelike did. The first thought I had was that I am sometimes a woman of many commas, arguably too many commas.

Then I thought, hm, not all of these are the best they could be. But even "Kitchen, dead" I don't really think I would go back and change? Maybe I'd change the intro to blood on vacation if I could.

There's not much of a pattern in terms of how I treat the small-r reader, either. Sometimes I just throw em in and to hell with it, other times it's a very nice, normal, understandable easing into the fic.

I guess I don't have much of a uniting style! Or maybe I have a variety of different vibes. Hmm.

Thank you for tagging me! <333

#correspondence #nerdsandthelike #friends! we're friending #ask games #kinda

[teledild0nix]

@tackytigerfic tagged me in the stats game, for which i am very grateful bc i love these games!

so i've written 119 fics across 11 fandoms, but i'm going to stick to my HP stuff just for the sake of a cohesive list. i'm also going to stick to fics with 1k+ wordcount bc drabbles feel like cheating a bit. also even all these have over 1k hits which is like!!! imagine a thousand people picking up your story off the shelf at the library or bookstore and reading it or even just quietly thumbing through it or thinking hmm i like the look of this and i'm going to take it home. and then they don't get to it. but still! it's kind of a staggering number.

Without Pretense (3.5K) harry and draco are friends but still dancing around whether they'll wind up dating. draco gets curious about harry acting strange one night, and after following him, discovers harry doing something bizarre but very harry. i have a soft spot for this story! i love all my stories really. obviously a lot of the emotional catharsis in this story comes from the release of tension between harry and draco (they DO get together in the end!) but also. this story is partly about how rootless harry feels as an orphan (and a Black orphan tbh!) and the silly, reckless, loving thing he does with that feeling.

Forth They Went Together (11.8K) so this is the 4th and final part of my moonrise series, and being part 4 of a 60K series is kind of a high barrier to entry to be fair. so i'm not surprised this fic has relatively fewer kudos. also it's a christmas story and i kinda feel like ppl don't like that? anyway, not super plotty. draco is a lycanthropy rights activist (and a werewolf) and a reform bill has just been passed granting lycanthropes some rights that have been denied them, in large part due to draco's work and his testimony to the wizengamot, and he's So Excited! this story is about the two of them basking in the love and light of their chosen family, really. there are also a couple of moments of sharp contrast between draco's chosen family and his family of origin. one of my favorite things in this fic is the relationship between draco and ginny! i love their stupid nicknames for each other. best friend shit. i also LOVE harry dressing up as santa (so does draco lol...)

Homing (8.6K) this is another christmas story! i do kinda feel like ppl don't rlly like reading christmas stories in this fandom? and yet i'm working on another one (which isn't actually about christmas but it'll be kind of holidayish)(i digress). draco gets disowned by his parents for refusing to marry astoria (his best friend) and astoria and harry conspire to have him stay with harry at grimmauld place. there are some letters back and forth between draco and astoria which is always fun. draco is a pianist who plays at a muggle gay bar, which i love. my spouse noted that i (who have a complicated relationship with my homophobic parents) keep giving draco a clean break in my stories. changing for the better is exquisite and painful, and not everyone you wish would come with you always does.

The Joy of Bleeding (6K) draco has just lost his estranged mother, and through a confluence of factors, harry is the eldest member of the Black family and has to assist with her burial, as draco no longer has the legal right to. oh also harry is draco's ex boyfriend who's still in love with him. this is another story about loving the people who are there for you and loving the people who fail you. draco's chosen family rallies around him, and everything sucks and hurts so bad but there are beautiful and sublime things too. i'm not going to say what the opening scene is because i think it's better unspoiled, but i really liked that choice.

Solarium (10.3 K) this is part 2 of moonrise, my werewolf draco series. i wrote this in 2020 and it shows! harry gets cursed through handling a cursed artifact at grimmauld place (where he and draco happen to live) and winds up in the hospital for a few weeks, struggling to throw off a sleeping curse. he's miserable and bored and his mind is foggy and he's scared he'll never be the same again. and also he doesn't want to move out of grimmauld place -_- draco is so worried and loves harry so much and is so fucking frustrated with him for not taking the obvious precaution. they figure it out, though. i really like the scenes with hagrid in this story. nobody includes hagrid for some reason, but he's So Important. also love the very last scene. more about how harry's relationship with his background so to speak, as a Black orphan (all my harry potters are Black; just remember that when you read my work!) i'll include a snippet bc i just can't resist

thanks again for tagging me, @tackytigerfic!!!! i love these games! i'm not sure who's already done this but anyone who wants to play should play and feel free to tag me so i can see your work!

#hp fic #tag games #hp fic rec #drarry #liddy's fic #apliddell

[sunsetofdoom]

SUNSET!!! ❤️🎨👑

❤️ What is your favorite line that you’ve written in a fic?

Favorite line always feels like a daunting question- so many of my favorite bits are conversations or paragraphs. But lemme look.

Oh! I really like this bit in the second chapter of all my life:

When they’d finally made it up to the Solarium during the Liberation, journeying through secret passages that Avad had had memorized since childhood, Ersa took one look at the throne wrapped in bronze bars and told him, it looks like a cage. One of those fancy ones, to keep a songbird in.

Ever since, the image blazed in his mind whenever he sat down. He felt like a bird now, battering against the bars.

... this has nothing to do with my love of boys in cages. No further questions.

Or some of the descriptions from one safe place, just one safe place, like this one:

He closed his eyes, and the thick golden light of the ranch house appeared, the smell of his mama’s kitchen and the swish of her skirts. “I remember that I ran home crying, once, ‘cause… We argued, and he hit me? Must’ve been it.” He could feel the miserable memory in his face and hands: six years old and full of more sadness than a body could hold, burying his face in his mama’s lap as he cried.

I remember @miss-spooky-eyes in particular pointed this line out as Making Her Feel Things, a capitol crime. I looove writing Corso's intertwined grief and nostalgia, it's so juicy.

Or my new Owl House WIP, in which Willow gets her glasses broken in a fight right before she meets Hunter for the first time-

Willow turned and shut the enormous doors of the school she was never going to see again, not really caring if the Golden Guard got in after her or not. A few hours ago, she’d have been full of awe for the famous warrior who’d stood at the Emperor’s right hand for decades; right now, he was just a big shiny blob, which kind of killed the reverence.

I just think this is funny for some reason.

🎨 If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see?

Fic that exists: I've always kind of wanted art for all my life I've been running towards the fight, that beginning section where Aloy and Ersa are awkwardly talking in Dervahl's workshop and Aloy very much doesn't know how to look or not look at a freshly-tortured woman with her tits out. (Doubly funny if one headcanons Aloy as a lesbian.) And one safe place, just one safe place is one of my favorite fics I've ever written, but I've never gotten much art of Teo and Corso, mostly because I hate commissioning people; I can take screenshots of the game, but it's not the same. I also had ambitions of paying @sleepswithvillains to draw a tasteful (if thirsty) nude of Nan, to get her body type straight in my head, because Sleeps is the only one who Really Gets It.

Fic I have in my head: later in all my life, Ersa was supposed to get hybrid Carja-Oseram tattoos over the scars on her chest; my gf designed them, but I've always wanted to commission art of them actually on her. Ended up booted out of the HZD fandom before I could get around to it, lmao.

And I'm working on a piece about my OC Yehlise and @pineaberry's Rend, both of which I'd love to get art of. Yehlise in particular is pretty un-make-able in the SWTOR engine, lmao.

👑 Do you like writing short fics or long fics?

I enjoy writing short fics. I aspire to write long ones, and unfortunately at the moment that's all my brain wants to give me.

(fanfic ask post here)

#i want so much art in fact that it would be way more convenient #if i either got over my fear of commissions or learned to draw #unfortunately im incapable #i tried to focus on Horizon stuff for foibles' sake lmao #i miss it a little

[lunardeao3]

Here's the schedule for this week:

Tuesday: Outbreak (chapter 5)

Footnotes and Wildflower (chapter 36)

Wednesday: Bloodhound (chapter 16)

Thursday: Outbreak (chapter 6)

Friday: Downfall (Chapter 71)

Saturday: The Art of Falling (In Love) (Chapter 17)

The World in Your Eyes (Chapter 29)

Also, there might be a chapter of Downfall on Sunday but I'm not sure cause these days I'm busy on the weekends!

#ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #wolfstar #marauders era #regulus black #sirius black #dfo – universe #jegulus #harry potter #downfall fic #Outbreak fic #drarry fic #drarry #remus lupin #james potter #evan rosier #barty crouch junior #rosekiller #barty and evan #solarium fic #bloodhound fic #greek mythology inspired #TAF(IL) Fic

[mafiasliege]

I dare you to let me go

(This is part 7 of my fic. Enjoy reading!)

Part 6 ↓

AVERY

The next two months may have been the worst time of Avery's life. Poverty, attempts on her life, pressure of the world, nothing compared to this. She threw herself even more into her work, tried not to be in the house that suddenly felt so lonely. Jameson and her didn't spend every waking moment together, even before everything went to hell, but he'd always be there. Making mischief, speeding cars on the track, sunbathing in the solarium or jumping off of his beloved climbing wall. She could feel him being there, and that was a great comfort. Now it felt so empty.

Jameson was still in the UK. He had come home for Christmas and New Year's, though. But the Hawthorne House was big enough for him to never see her.

She had to do something. Just because he told her to go away doesn't mean she'd just obey.

The next day, Alisa was in her office with Gray.

"Alisa. I need you to research every loophole on this."

The next few hours, the for of them discussed every possible outcome regarding her… proposition.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Avery?" Grayson asked her, even though he jumped on board with the idea.

"Yes."

------------------------------------------------

"Hey, Priscilla."

"Oh dear! Get inside, you all."

"That's okay. Is Jameson not home?" That was Xander, peeking in.

"Oh no, sweetie. He's in London. He had been since his mot was here two weeks ago."

Avery frowned. "A mot?"

"The blonde one."

"What's her name?"

"Don't know, girl. Mario tells me she's the Countess of Caithness. Real charmer."

Mario was the security at the front gate. No doubt they'd talked around. Even the media had gotten the hint they weren't together anymore. Their theories only made her feel worse.

Avery tried to mask her disappointment. He was flying around the globe like it was a ball, but he'd only come home for the sake of holidays. Just when she'd tracked him down, he was in London.

She was nervous on the flight there, and Xander tried using his distraction skills to it's best.

"What do you think he's doing in London? You know, other than getting into trouble."

Avery ignored that and voiced her fears thoughts instead, "do you think he's dating someone?"

"Probably." Said Lyra, casually sipping on her Manhattan. "What? It could happen. He's single and a Hawthorne. It could even be that blonde." She shrugged when Grayson glared at her.

-------------------------------------------------

Jameson was not in his apartment, not at the mercy, and not with Simon. Max had stumbled into a famous bookstore. After Avery started panicking again, Lyra tried to redeem herself for her previous taunting, and dragged them to her favourite bar place in the city.

"You need to chill. Come on, the Manhattan on the flight has started losing its effect, anyway."

Inside the club, called The Onyx, Avery realised how fucked up a sense of humour life had, when she saw Jameson… with a girl.

"We did not go through so much trouble with Sheffield Grayson just for you to commit murder yourself," Grayson said, warning Avery, her dagger eyes on Jameson and the pretty blonde sitting together. He proceeded to say something that made them both laugh a lot and she touched his arm. It was his real laugh, which only made her more jealous.

"Gray's right. Max says it's harder to hide bodies in winter." Why Max knew that, no one knew. "Besides, don't you need to, you know, be married to be Countess?"

"Caithness is in Scotland, Xan. Some women there can just inherit the title. As a matter of fact, she's on google. Unmarried." She showed him a Wikipedia page.

While Lyra and Xan kept chattering, Jameson had spotted them. She waved at him. They got up and came toward them.

The blonde put out her hand, "Bridget. Nice to meet you." Avery put aside the most vivid fantasies she had sitting there of pulling the hand that touched him and burn it, and shook it instead. "Avery."

After initial introductions, avery excused herself to the bathroom.

Stay cool, calm, and collected.

"Heiress."

Avery turned around to see Jameson standing there. She turned around slowly to face him. He looked so beautiful, it hurt. His eyes seemed brighter, somehow. And his face and posture looked more relaxed, like when you water a drying plant. She felt equal parts guilty and ashamed that it took him leaving her to feel like himself again.

"I have to tell you something." He just nodded. Her heart was thumping rapidly in her chest.

"I gave up the Hawthorne foundation. It officially belongs to Grayson now." Jameson was shocked. He blinked twice, as if it wasn't real and all in his head.

"How? I thought you couldn't-"

"I told you, I'm not letting you go. Not now, not ever. But i had too many expectations from too many people. I had to release some of it. So, I researched every loophole the past couple of months, and made it official, it can't be undone now. And i wouldn't have it any other way." She always knew the Hawthorne foundation was what Grayson really missed about losing the inheritance, and she had her own foundation, her own purpose.

She kept talking, if he wasn't going to.

"So, your girlfriend's nice." The best way to cut out the awkward parts, according to her, was to rip off the bandaid asap.

“I'm not here on a date. Bridget's just a friend,” Jameson said in a small voice.

“Then why…”

"Why did Priscilla say-" his eyes glittered with emotion.

“Because I knew you'd ask her. Because I'm afraid of getting too attached again. I've been fighting against my still-consistent longing for you, and I almost gave in. I don’t…” He inhaled a shuddering breath.

“I’m scared I’ll go back and lose myself again. I’m scared you’ll get comfortable and take back you're words. I can’t go through that a second time, Avery. I can’t.” Avery put her hands on his neck.

"I won't, Jameson. I'll never take us back to that time." She pressed her forehead against his.

“Give us another chance,” she said. “One last chance. I promise I won’t hurt you. I know my promises don’t mean much to you anymore, and that's entirely my own doing, but tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it.”

This time, it was her who waited. Waited for so long, she wasn't sure he'd even heard her. When it became clear he wasn't going to say anything, she turned around.

"Heiress."

She hadn't even turned around halfway before Jameson grabbed her hand to gently pulled her toward him…

And kissed her.

#idytlmg #the inheritance games #the grandest game #tig #tig fanfic #the brothers hawthorne #the hawthorne brothers #avery grambs #jameson hawthorne #javery #jameson x avery #averyjameson #grayson hawthorne #xander hawthorne #nash hawthorne

[hotgothaloy]

A little Beta/Avad fic I'm working on. It's a fluffy, angsty arranged marriage thing!

#hfw fanfic #beta hfw #avad #carja

[bread--quest]

realized i never posted my Solarium Solstice fic on here, so!!!! for @suitablysolemn, a twine fic about wyatt masons viii (+ viii again) and iii, and their staticing, and what happens afterwards! content warnings etc. in the link :D

#wow look something original!! #sonder scribbles #REALLY proud of this one #learned like 5 new twine functions in making it #blb: wy8 #blb: y-8 #blb: trip mason #fan: gnym!! #blaseball

[burningcrab]

hmmmm all the 7s for the fic asks?? pick your longest for the ones that need a fic selected

7. Any worldbuilding you’re particularly proud of?

hmmm… yea i think so! i do tend to focus on character work but i had fun imagining the Saucer and the Baristas in my fic abt ex-Barista didi müller. girls who were designed for a purpose and have issues about it

17. What highly specific AU do you want to read or write even though you might be the only person to appreciate it?

what highly specific AU do i NOT want to read is the question. edit: WAIT FUCK I NEVER ACTUALLY ANSWERED THIS. i want space AUs i want mech AUs i want space mech AUs like that one in the solarium that one time. also i want cyberpunk AUs

27. How long did it take to write [insert fic]? Describe the process.

my longest one is actually the one linked above conveniently. from google doc creation to publication was about a month, but [checking edit history] there was a two week gap where i stopped working on it. idr what i was doing. probably watching mario speedruns. so i guess like two weeks of actually chipping away at it?

37. Promote one of your own “deep cut” fics (an underrated one, or one that never got as much traction as you think it deserves!). What do you like about it?

i feel weird saying my work deserves more attention but like. i get the intent dfjdjdjshf. its a “promote yourself” question SOOOOO let’s go with in space no one can burn your life down to a smoking ruin, the wanda schenn fic i did for the solstice exchange. i like it for a lot of reasons, but i think it’s just got a lot of really tight imagery. i finished it and i was like yeah i’m into this one. also due to a mix-up with the solstice prompts i ended up going brrr to get this one done in under 24 hours. lmao

47. If [insert fic] was a pair of shoes, what kind would it be? Describe the shoes.

back to the didi fic. fascinating question.

i think they’d be a pair of those checkerboard-patterned vans. they’re old and beat-up; judging by the dirt and grass stains, it looks like the wearer spent a lot of time out in the countryside. they smell a little like coffee. faded marker doodles are barely visible on the sides of the soles — it’s hard to tell what they’re supposed to be.

#blaseball #fic writer ask game

[khoicesbyk]

The Royal Romance.

Love Everlasting.

A/N: I had a different name and plot for this fic over a year ago. But after being in the RP community for more than a year, I've decided to write the current Royal Life of my favorite OTP.

Rated: Mature (at times can and will be Explicit. I'll be sure to change the rating when and if that happens). | Contains sexual content and strong language. (You know? The usual. Y'all should be used to this from me by now 😁) | Bolded and/or italicized words are conversations and thoughts of the characters. | Main Characters: King Marquise Rys (LI) and Queen Shanelle Miller-Rys (MC) | All Characters and names: (except MC and original characters created by me and/or other authors [their characters have been mentioned and/or used in the story with their permission] ) are property of Pixelberry.

Current Word Count: 50K words. (may be slightly more or may be slightly less. Look, I stop counting after editing and re-editing and driving myself insane. 🤷🏾‍♀️)

If you’d like to be added to my tag list. Just reblog or dm me and I will gladly add you! 😁😘

This series is rated Mature and/or Explicit. It is NOT reading material that is safe for those under 18. Reader discretion is STRONGLY advised!

Missing a chapter or want to read a chapter again? I got you covered! Click ——> Here!

Tag List: @choicesficwriterscreations @peonierose @twinkleallnight @txemrn @shewillreadyou

Yes. We have another chapter with MULTIPLE parts to it. Sorry, I tried to keep under 10K words but I became possessed by the ancestors and didn't stop until they said I’d written enough.

Chapter 9.) Matrimony. Part 1.

Shanelle and Khari were sitting in the solarium, looking through her wedding album. 

“Ooh! There's you! There's Daddy! Look at TiTi! Uncle Dino! Everybody looks so sparkly.” Khari said as she looked through the photos. 

“Thank you, baby.” 

“Whoa! Look at the cake! It's so tall, mommy!” 

“Yup. And it's a good thing they didn't drop it when they brought it out. Otherwise, your Daddy would've had a heart attack.” 

Khari turns to the next page just as her dad walks in followed by their quartet of Corgis.

“There are my two favorite girls! What are you two up to?” Marquise asked. 

“We're taking a trip down memory lane and looking at our wedding album,” Shanelle replies.

“Yeah! You should join us, Daddy.” Khari added. 

“You know. I think I will. You got room for one more?” 

Khari nodded before scooting over.

“Oooh! There's Auntie Nina! And Uncle Lo! Auntie Bronwyn! Look! There's Grammy and Pop Pop! There's Grammy Margo and…” Khari trailed off.

Marquise noticed the look on her face.

“What is it, my love?” he asked.

“Grandpa George,” Khari replied sadly.

Marquise shared a concerned look with his wife.

“I miss him,” Khari said with a sniffle.

Marquise wrapped an arm around his daughter as Khari buried her face in her dad’s side.

“I miss Grandpa.” Khari cried. 

The one thing Marquise hated to see most in this world was his daughter in tears.

“Look at me, my love,” he spoke softly to Khari.

Khari looked up at him with tears in her eyes.

“My little one. Tears in those beautiful eyes simply will not do. I won't stand for it. So let's dry your eyes.” 

Shanelle grabbed tissues and dabbed at Khari’s eyes.

“Much better,” Shanelle said after drying Khari’s eyes.

“Grammy says I should smile because Grandpa is in a happy place but I miss him.”

Marquise kissed her forehead softly. 

“We know you do, my love. And it's okay to feel sad. We miss him too.”

“Do you think Grandpa misses us?” Khari asked.

“I'm sure he does, Peanut. You and Callie were his girls.” Shanelle replies. 

“Then why did Grandpa go away? I don't understand.” Khari cried. 

Shanelle nodded to her husband before he cradled their daughter in his arms.

“My sweet little girl. I know how you feel. I know that it hurts to lose someone you love so much.”

“You do Daddy?” Khari asked with a sniffle.

“Yes, my sweet one. I was just a wee bit older than you when my mother passed away.” Marquise replies. 

“Were you sad Daddy?”

“Yes. I was very sad. I missed her terribly. Even now I miss her.”

“Really?” Khari asked.

“Yes, my love. I miss her a lot. Especially because she never got the chance to meet you, your brothers, and your mother. She never got the chance to love all of you,” Marquise replied.

Khari laid her head on her daddy’s shoulder.

“Do you think she would've liked me?” Khari asked.

“Ellie would have loved you. Even more, than I do.” a voice called out. It was Margo.

She saw the look on Khari’s face and became concerned.

“What's wrong, my sweet? Why do you look so sad?” Margo asked Khari.

Instead of answering, Khari hopped off the couch and ran to Margo.

“I miss Grandpa.”

Margo hugged Khari tightly.

“Oh, my sweet darling. I know you do. We all miss Grandpa.”

Margo thought for a second. 

“I have an idea. Do you know what I did with your father when your grandmother passed away?” Margo asked Khari.

“What did you do, Grammy?” Khari replied.

“I took him and your Uncle Leo to a card shop in the city center. And we bought birthday cards and balloons. And when we got back to the Palace I had them write a message inside each card and tied them to a balloon, and we sent them off to heaven. Your father and I have done that every year for your grandmother's birthday. So what do you say we do that for Grandpa?” 

Khari nodded.

“Okay.”

Margo smiled.

“To make it even more special, we’ll get art supplies and make the cards ourselves. Would you like that?” Margo asked.

“Yes. And we can make them pretty for Grandpa.” Khari replied.

“Exactly. Now dry your eyes my darling. We have cards to make.” 

“Okay, Grammy.”

Margo took Khari by the hand and as she led the young princess out, she looked back to see her son mouth the words ‘thank you, mom’. 

“I will never not be thankful for her,” Shanelle said with a sigh of relief.

“You? I would've been dead without her here with me.”

“Margo was not going to leave you and Leo alone with Connie.”

“I know. That's what I love most about her. She is as protective as she is loving.”

Marquise looked down at the photo album.

“I do have a question for you my love.”

“Yes, Your Majesty?” 

“Why were you two looking through our wedding album?” Marquise asked.

“Khari was curious. And she wanted to know why she wasn't in any of the photos.” Shanelle replied. 

“She wasn't born yet.”

“That's what I told her. But she was convinced she had to be in the photo album somewhere. So I broke out the album and we started looking through it.”

Marquise chuckled softly.

“My what a day that was.”

“Yeah. We had so much fun. The wedding was everything I ever wanted. The reception was immaculate. Everyone looked beautiful.”

“The wedding night was stellar! If I do say so myself.”

Shanelle shook her head.

“You gave me the wedding of my dreams that day.”

“I know I've said this before but I'll say it again, anything for you,” he said before turning the page to their official wedding photo. 

“We were so young.”

“Yeah, we were. Look at us. You looked so good even in all that white regalia. I just knew you'd spill wine all over it.”

“And you were majestic in your wedding gown. It's amazing how we were and still are so in love,” he said before smiling at the photo.

“Indeed, my King.”

Their wedding was the talk of the town. Marquise made sure to pull out all the stops to give his bride the wedding of the century. What started in Boston ended in New York. 

Let's go back, shall we?

It was the weekend after Shanelle and Marquise officially got engaged she was just waking up and when she rolled over the bed was empty. She sat up in bed and saw the bedroom door was cracked so she knew where he was. She threw on a robe and went down to the kitchen to find her then-fiance making coffee. 

“Good morning my beautiful fiancee,” he said as he greeted her.

“Good morning, Your future Majesty,” she replied. 

“Can I offer you a fresh cup?” he asked.

“Sure,” she replied as she sat down at the kitchen island. 

He brought her a fresh hot cup of coffee with all her favorite accouterments.

“Ooh! I get the royal treatment.”

Marquise snorted. 

“Well, you are the future Queen of Cordonia, my love.”

“It doesn't feel real. I'm going to be a Queen. Me. Plain old me.” 

“First things first, don't ever call yourself plain. You are everything but plain.”

“You know what I meant.”

“I stand by my previous statement.”

Shanelle shook her head before taking a sip of her coffee.

“So what's for breakfast?” she asked.

“I was thinking of hash and eggs with Strawberry Nutella pancakes. I have some Spanish ham in the fridge that has to be used before it goes bad,” he replied.

“Works for me.”

“Coming right up.”

She watched him finish his coffee and start breakfast prep. Soon after he had a hot breakfast ready for them both.

“And voila! Breakfast is served.”

“Looks delicious.”

“Thank you, my love.”

“I take it that it won't always be like this.”

“Unfortunately no. This right now is the calm before the storm.” 

“What's the storm?” she asked.

“Formally and officially announcing our engagement, naming you a duchy, beginning the transfer of Monarchial power, coming up with a plan to bring Cordonia back to life, uniting the last remaining two Royal Families as one, on top of planning our wedding,” he replies. 

“That's a tall order.” 

“Exactly. We will be busy for the next few months.”

“How soon do we have to be married?” she asked.

“Ideally? Now. But I want you to have the wedding of your dreams.” he replies.

“Gee thanks.”

Marquise chuckled. 

“Is it wrong that I’m terrified?” she asked. 

“No. Because essentially you’d be walking in blind. You have never dealt with Cordonian politics. I deal with them in my sleep. But that's also why you will be an amazing Queen. Because you aren't native to the kingdom, you can offer an outside and fresh perspective to the kingdom. Like my mother did when she was Queen. It's why the people loved her so much.”

“I'm sad I never got to meet her.”

“She would have loved you. She would've been pissed at our fathers and your uncle because of the betrothal agreement.”

“You think so?” she asked.

“Absolutely. She abhorred arranged marriages. Her mother was forced into one in Kenya. That's why she took the job as a chambermaid in Auvernal. She wanted to get her and my mother as far away from her husband as possible.”

“What was he like?” she asked.

“From the stories my mother used to tell, he was cruel. He had multiple wives and children in their village. According to my mother, he used to beat his wives if they disobeyed him.” he replied.

“What was your grandmother’s name?” she asked.

“Esther. I have a picture of her back home. She died after my parents were married. To honor her, my mother contacted her oldest brother, my uncle Victor, and had her buried near their village in Kenya.” he replied. 

“Wow.”

“To keep me connected to her side of my family, she taught me to speak, read, and write Swahili.”

“Really?” she asked.

“Yes. She wanted me to learn so that if I ever found myself in Kenya again, I would know how to communicate with the people there. So I would never need a guide,”  he replied.

“Your mother was a badass.”

“Thank you. Where do you think I get it from?” he asked.

“You're not a badass, sir.”

“Rude!”

Shanelle snickered.

“I can't believe you know Swahili.”

“It's a beautiful language. It's also how my mother used to curse at my father.”

“Really?” she asked.

“Mmmhmmm. Whenever she got mad at him, she'd curse his name in Swahili. And he was none the wiser.”

“Again she was a badass.”

“Thank you. She tried to teach him Swahili but he was never interested.”

“Would you ever teach me?” she asked.

“Sure. I'll start with my favorite phrase,” he replied.

“What's your favorite phrase in Swahili?” she asked.

“Nakupenda, mrembo wangu. It means I love you, my beautiful one,” he replied.

“Smooth.” 

He snickered.

“So in terms of the engagement, what happens now?” she asks.

“Well first things first, I would send the news off to two people,” he replied.

“Who?”

“Duke Godfrey would be first. He's the herald of the Monarchy. He sends out official Press Releases on behalf of my father. And the second is an old friend named Donnie Brine. He's the Editor-in-Chief at the CBC.” 

“What's the CBC?” she asked.

“The Cordonian Broadcasting Company. He's covered both Royal Families for decades. Once they're alerted, we will be off to Cordonia.” he replies.

“To be married?” she asked.

“No. To begin the transfer of Monarchial power,” he replies.

“What does that entail exactly?” she asked.

“We would meet with my father and your uncle and they would sign over their kingdoms to us. Then the process would begin and it would finalize at our wedding,” he replies.

“What happens if they try to fight us?” she asks.

“They could but it would do them no good. The one smart thing your father did right was to have a special provision written into the agreement. My father and your uncle have to transfer the kingdoms over to us peacefully or else they'll be stripped of their titles, thrown into a dungeon and the two kingdoms will be turned over to you without us having to be married.” he replies.

“My dad did that?”

“Yes. He wasn't just going to turn you over without you getting a kingdom.” 

Shanelle sighed.

“So I guess he was looking out for me.”

“Indeed. Speaking of which, have you talked to him?” he asked.

Shanelle shook her head no.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to speak to him yet.”

“I understand but hopefully you'll be talking to him before we get married.”

“Hopefully. Now when will you send the news about our engagement?” she asked.

“As soon as I get back upstairs to my laptop. Why? You in a rush?” he replied.

“Am I in a rush to get my duchy? Yes.”

“And here I thought you loved me.”

“I love money, power, and access. Not you.”

Marquise placed a hand over his chest.

“I'm being used! My poor heart.” 

The two snickered.

“Are you ready, love?” he asked.

“No. But I know that you'll be there,” she replies.

He covered her trembling right hand with his. 

“Of course not. I will never leave you alone. We rule together.” 

“So let's get this show on the road.” 

Marquise smiled at her. They finished their breakfast before he headed upstairs to send the news of their engagement off to the proper channels. And while he was sending the official word, she was breaking the news to her girls. 

“Okay out with it!” Nina said.

“Yeah! What was with that cryptic text?” Robin asked.

“It better be an emergency!” Bron pouted. 

“What they said!” Aly, Dee, and Chut said in agreement.

“Are y'all done?” Shanelle asked. 

“What is it, Princess?” Nina asked.

Shanelle sighed dramatically before covering her face with her left hand showing her engagement ring. 

“Gee…what could I possibly text you tramps about that would be so damn urgent?” she asked. 

The girls stared for a few seconds trying to figure out what Shanelle was asking until Nina spoke up.

“HOLY SHIT! IS THAT AN ENGAGEMENT RING?!” Nina blurted out.

“And my favorite Keane Klown wins the door prize!”

The girls all began talking and cheering all at once. 

“Oh, My God!” Dee squealed.

“Yesssssssss!” Chut cheered.

“Congratulations Shan! I'm so happy for you!” 

“We are planning a bachelorette party!” Bron piped up.

“And the Bridal Shower!” Robin added.

Shanelle shook her head with a smile.

“Thank you, girls.”

“When did he propose?” Nina asked.

“The other night. It was a whole thing.” Shanelle replied.

“Did he do a whole romantic gesture?” Bron asked.

“He was going to do that until…” Shanelle replied.

“Until what?” Dee asked. 

Shanelle sighed deeply.

“Until Cass showed up.”

“WHAT?! The girls exclaimed.

“No. He didn't,”  Nina said out loud.

Shanelle looked at her best friend. 

“He did. It's not his fault. He was set up.”

“By who?” Chut asked.

“Marquise’s ex. She set him up.” Shanelle replies.

The girls all went off at once. None more than Nina.

“How the fuck did she do that?” Nina asked.

“Apparently when she found out about me, she also found out about Cass. And she reached out to him and fed him a bullshit lie about me being in trouble and that he had to save me from Marquise.” Shanelle replies.

“Oh hell no!” Robin growled.

“She needs her ass beat!” Nina growled. 

“Trust and believe she's getting her ass handed to her. But not by you.”

“And why not? He's my brother.” Nina asked. 

“Because I'm not about to have you arrested for a murder that you can't get away with,” Shanelle replied.

“What makes you think I can't get away with it?” Nina asked.

“Because she's Cordonian Royalty and you're not. Also, what part of ‘I'm not about to have you arrested for a murder that you can't get away with’ did you not hear?” Shanelle replied. 

Nina sucked her teeth.

“Besides, I owe the bitch an ass-whooping anyway.” 

“Uh uh! We want in!” Bron piped up.

“Fine! Y'all can record me beating her ass while yelling WorldStar!”

The girls laughed. 

“So what happened?” Dee asked.

“I was upstairs when I heard yelling and when I came downstairs, Cass had his gun drawn on Marquise,” Shanelle replies.

“He drew his weapon?” Robin asked.

“Yeah. That's not even the worst part.” Shanelle replies.

“I don’t like the sound of this.” Chut quipped. 

Shanelle sighed.

“Marquise and I were coming back from a youth football game when he got an alert on his phone. Cass tripped the silent alarm when he picked the lock on the kitchen door.” 

“He broke in?!” Aly asked.

“Yeah…” Shanelle replied.

“He had a warrant right?” Nina asked.

Shanelle went quiet. 

“Oh no! No! He wouldn't!”

Shanelle sighed deeply.

“Sadly he did. He not only broke in but he didn't have a warrant.”

The girls groaned and sighed in disappointment. 

“Please don't be mad at him. He did what he thought was right. He thought he was protecting me. If y'all are gonna be mad, be mad at the bitch. This was her fault. Not his.”

“Oh believe me. I am pissed at her. I can't believe she set my brother up.” Nina hissed. 

“I can. I'm sure she thought Cass would be able to convince me to leave Marquise. Which is kinda ironic.”

“Why?” Dee asked.

“According to Marquise, this chick is already married.”

“Marrieddddddd?!?!?!?!” Bron asked.

“Yup. She got a whole-ass husband at home but she swears that she doesn't love him. She only loves my now fiance.” Shanelle replied.

“She is fucking insane.” Chut quipped.

“She's the perfect case study for you babe.”

“Nope. Hell no! I wouldn't touch her. I'd kill her for fucking with you and my cousin.”

Shanelle snickered.

“Here come the claws!” 

The girls laughed. 

“The nerve of that floozie!” Aly seethed. 

The girls cackled.

“Not a floozie! Alyssa Lynn! You know better!” Shanelle said in feigned shock. 

“She is! She's nothing but trouble!”

“She's nothing that I can't handle.”

“We! Nobody fucks with you without getting jumped by us.” Robin said emphatically.

“Y’all are my girls for a reason.”

“This is a great day and it's about to get greater,” Bron said. 

“What do you mean?” Shanelle asked.

They watched Bronwyn bite her lip before showing off her left hand, revealing her engagement ring.

“Shut. Up!” Shanelle said out loud.

The girls cheered all over again.

“Bronwyn! Why would you wait to say something?” Shanelle asked.

“Because this was your moment. I didn't want to interrupt,” she replied.

“I'm gonna whoop you! As matter of fact, where is my shoe?!” Shanelle asked.

The girls laughed. 

“But seriously congratulations babe! Finally, someone is gonna make an honest man outta Squirt.”

“Thank you, Shanelle. I'm so excited.”

“Same here.”

“So can we start planning for these weddings?” Nina asked.

“Yeah yeah. Go crazy.” Shanelle replied.

“Go crazy about what?” Marquise asked as he came down the stairs with his laptop in his hands.

“Is that the Prince?” Bron asked.

“The one and the same. Now, what is this beautiful creature permitting you girls to do?” Marquise replied.

“Her bachelorette party and bridal shower. And Bron’s wedding too,” Dee answered.

“Well let me first say congratulations to you, Miss Davis.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

“And let me also add one more party to your planning. Every future Queen has to host an official tea for the ladies of the court. So how would you ladies like to plan that tea?” Marquise asked.

“Do we have a budget?” Robin asked.

“Nope,” Marquise replied.

“Oop! Okay Mr. Moneybags! I see you.”

“Does it have to be in Cordonia?” Dee asked.

“Yes. It will be at her soon-to-be duchy. But as she said, you girls get to go crazy.” Marquise replied.

“Oooh!” the girls said in response. 

“Well, ladies…have fun,” Marquise said to the girls.

“Oh, we will!” Nina said to him.

“Wonderful. Now I have to steal the future Queen if you girls don't mind.” 

Shanelle shook her head.

“I'll talk to you girls soon,” Shanelle said to her friends before they all signed off. 

“Are they excited?” he asked.

“Very. For us and Bron. Also, they're the bridesmaids. That's non-negotiable.” she replies.

“Fair enough. Now I have to show you your duchy so they can help you plan and host your first tea.”

“I get to pick my duchy?” she asked.

“No, I've already picked it out,” he said as he opened his laptop.

“If it's my duchy why do you get to choose it?” she asked.

“Future King,” he replies.

Shanelle pouted. 

“Now let me show you your duchy. This is Valtoria. It's one of the oldest duchies in Cordonia.” 

“It's beautiful.”

“And it's all yours.” 

Shanelle scrolled through the pictures on his laptop. She loved all the open fields, the quaint towns, the lakes, ponds, the two rivers, as well as the massive estate with the waterfall behind it. 

“All of that is mine?” she asked.

“Yes. Or it will be once we go to Cordonia,” he replies.

“But what am I supposed to do with it?” she asked.

“The people of Valtoria are pretty self-sufficient. To be honest, outside of visiting the orphanage, the hospital, and hosting the Lantern Festival every June, they don't require much from you,” he replies.

“So why Valtoria?” she asked.

“The duchies in Cordonia belong to a noble family; some families are more well known than others and each is passed down through the generations to the oldest heir. The Valtoria family was one of the first noble families in Cordonia. Well, the former Duchess of Valtoria had no heirs or siblings to pass the duchy on to when she died 5 years ago. It's sat vacant since her death. And now it belongs to you.” he replies.

“I still can't believe it. When we go to Cordonia will I be able to see it?” she asked.

“Of course. We’ll take a tour once we're there,” he replies.

“It's a beautiful duchy. It's just…” she trailed off.

“Just what?” he asked.

“I don't like the name all that much. Sounds old,” she replied.

“Okay so change it.”

“Wait, I can do that?” she asked.

“Yes. It's your duchy, my love,” he replied.

Shanelle took a moment to think. 

“You're gonna laugh at me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because of the name I have in mind.”

“What name do you have in mind?” he asked.

“There was an old children’s book that my dad got me when I was 5. I got the name from that book,” she replied.

“What was the name of the book?” he asked.

Shanelle bit her lip.

“Princess…”

“The Legends of the Volterias Dragon. I used to love that book so much,” she replied.

“I remember that book. It was one of Leo’s favorites.” 

“Yeah. I used to read it all the time. Zamyra was my hero.”

“Very well. I will file the paperwork to have the name officially changed from Valtoria to Volterias.”

“So I have one last question for you.”

“Yes, my love?” he asked.

“When do we leave?” she replies. 

“We leave Monday morning. So get upstairs and get packed.”

Shanelle couldn't run up the back stairs and get packed fast enough. Although flying 10 ½ hours from Boston to Cordonia made her squeamish, she knew he would be there every step of the way. Early that following Monday morning, it was off to the airport. As they rode to Logan Airport with Ozzie in a carrier, she had a range of emotions running through her and he noticed. 

“Are you alright, love?” he asked as he placed his hand on her left knee. 

“Yeah. I'm just all over the place,” she replied.

“What are you feeling?” he asked.

“Everything. I'm excited, terrified, anxious, ready to hit the ground running, overwhelmed, and everything else in between,” she replied.

“I understand. This is brand new territory for you. But I promise you'll never be alone. Whatever you need help with, I'll be there to help and guide you.”

“Thank you. I know I have you to rely on.”

He brought her left hand to his lips for a soft kiss.

“And you always will.”

She smiled at him. When they boarded the plane and took their seats, her anxiety began to creep up but when she felt him squeeze her hand, she started to calm down.

“It's okay love. I'm here. And Ozzie is too.”

Shanelle shook her head with a smile.

“What would I do without you two?” she asked.

The flight went a lot smoother for her the second time. She wasn't as much of a nervous wreck as before. The sun had started to go down as they got ready to land in Cordonia. 

“Still so beautiful.” 

“Yes, you are. And so is Cordonia.” 

“Kiss ass.”

“Don't tempt me Shanelle.”

Shanelle snickered as they taxied on the tarmac. She slipped her left hand into his right hand just as they got ready to disembark. 

“Are you ready my love?” Marquise asked her.

“As I'll ever be,” she replied.

He smiled at her before looking at Ozzie.

“Ready to go boy?” he asked Ozzie.

Ozzie’s only response was a bark. 

“Well Sir Ozzie, lead off.” 

With Ozzie’s leash in his left hand, the two stepped off the jet and right into camera flashes and clamoring paparazzi. 

“They're everywhere,” Shanelle whispered to him over the shouting voices.

“Yes, they are. So let's give them a show,” he replied as he led her to a raised podium. 

Marquise raised a hand to quiet the crowd.

“Good evening everyone. Thank you for joining us. It's good to be home.” Marquise said as he greeted the crowd of reporters. “Now I’m sure you’re all here to hear the news, so I'll get right to it.”

He turned to Shanelle with a warm smile that she returned. 

“This beautiful, incredible, amazing woman right here, Princess Shanelle Miller, Crown Heir to the throne of South Cordonia has accepted my proposal. We are to be married,” he said as he showed off her engagement ring. 

The press started shouting at them all at once again. 

“Now now. I'm sure many of you have questions for us. So we'll take a few questions.” 

At that statement, Donnie Brine spoke up.

“Your Highness! On behalf of the CBC let me say congratulations to you and Her Highness on your engagement. Ever since the news broke last Friday, many have wondered what this means for the kingdom.” 

“Thank you, Donnie. This is an exciting time for us and Cordonia. With our marriage, Cordonia will finally be united as one for the first time in more than a century. The days of two divided kingdoms will soon come to an end.”

“That's amazing. Now I have a question for the Princess.” 

Shanelle stepped up to the podium.

“Hello, Your Highness. Welcome to Cordonia. And congratulations to you.” Donnie said to her.

“Thank you, Donnie. It's good to be back in Cordonia.” 

“You're quite welcome. How are you feeling?” Donnie asked her.

“Everything. I'm excited and nervous and hopeful,” she replied.

“That's understandable. What are you hoping to accomplish as the next Queen of Cordonia?” Donnie asked her.

The question caught Shanelle off guard.

“I am much like my mother and my maternal grandmother. My mother is a schoolteacher and is the teacher’s union President for NYCPS. I have watched her spend most of her life fighting for education. She believes that teachers and educators are severely underpaid, overworked, and often not appreciated enough. She has also poured her soul into teaching each of her students. She is always available to them. Always open to tutoring. Always there to help in any way she can. She is my inspiration for quality education for all Cordonian children. Likewise, my maternal grandmother was a nurse. She believed in healing. Both professionally and holistically. Keeping her drive to always make sure her patients were healed is my inspiration. Fair, accessible, and quality Healthcare was her whole life. I want Cordonia to have that. I want no one to wonder whether or not they have enough money to afford a doctor's appointment or a prescription. A Cordonia that is healthy and thriving is a Cordonia for all.” 

Many in the crowd cheered for her.

“Thank you, Princess. I can see why His Highness is excited about your upcoming wedding.” Donnie said to her. She smiled at him. 

Marquiss stepped up to the podium.

“Now while we enjoy having you all here, we are due at the palace. We will see you all very soon.”

They stepped off the dais with Ozzie in tow and headed for their waiting car. Once inside Shanelle took a deep breath. 

“Oh, my God! That was a lot scarier than I thought,” she said to Marquise.

He kissed the knuckles of her left hand.

“You did quite well my love. It was your first time in front of the press. It's perfectly normal to be nervous.”

“You give me too much credit.”

He kissed the side of her forehead.

“No. I don't give you enough credit. But thankfully for me, I'll have a lifetime to give you all the credit you deserve.”

She laid her head on his shoulder as they rode to the palace. When they pulled up to the residence, they were greeted by Marquise’s lead guard Alex and Bastien.

“Good evening Your Highnesses. Welcome back to the palace. I want to personally congratulate you both on your engagement.” Bastien said to them both. 

Marquise placed a hand over his chest.

“Was that…genuine sincerity? You’re losing your edge Bastien old man.” Marquise replied. 

“Yes, my congratulations to you and Her Highness are sincere.”

Marquise scoffed. 

“Oh please. They weren't sincere, they were self-serving. You and I both know you’re not here to greet the Princess and I nor are you here to offer your heartfelt congratulations. You’re here to find out whether or not you'll still have a job once the new Monarchy is formed.” 

Bastien exhaled slowly.

“That is part of the reason, yes, but I do want you to know that I am genuinely happy for you, Your Highness. The Princess is a great young woman and I do wish you both the best.” 

Marquise shook his head.

“Still self-serving as ever I see. Well if you must know Bastien, as much as I can't stand you, I would be an idiot to overlook your years of diligent and loyal service to the King’s Guard. So you have my word, your position will be safe.”

Marquise watched Bastien visibly relax.

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

“Don't thank me. Because if it were up to me you'd be exiled. But I know how hard and extremely rare it is to find people who are as genuinely loyal to the Family, The King’s Guard, and the kingdom as you are. As long as you remain that way, you'll have a job. Besides, I owe it to Jackson to keep you around. He trained you to be the best in the Guard. He would haunt me if I fired you.” 

Bastien nodded.

“I understand my Prince. It will be my honor to serve you and Her Highness.”

Marquiss rolled his eyes. 

“Right. Now if you'll excuse us, we just got off a 10 ½-hour flight. My fiancee needs her rest and I need mine.” 

“My Prince, there is a pressing matter that needs your attention,” Bastien said to Marquise.

“What?” Marquise asked.

“Your father wishes to speak with you,” Bastien replied.

“He can wait until the morning.”

“But it's important, my Prince.”

“What part of ‘we just got off a 10 ½ hour flight’ did you not comprehend Bastien?” 

“Marquise, I don't think it's wise for you to ignore your father.” 

Marquise bristled at the mention of his name.

“What have I told you about using my first name Bastien?” Marquise asked.

“I apologize, my Prince. But it is an important matter.” Bastien replied.

“If it involves Constantine Rys, then it's not an important matter. It's a personal one. You know this. And for the record, I'm not in the mood to deal with him or his bullshit right now.” Marquise said to Bastien before turning to Alex and giving him an order. “Let's go.”

Alex merely nodded before escorting Marquise and Shanelle into the palace. After dropping Ozzie off at the Royal Kennels they went to his wing in the palace. When they got to his suite, Shanelle plopped down on his bed. 

“Ugh! My feet! Why didn't you warn me that the walk would be that long?” she asked him.

“Because if I had told you, you wouldn't have worn heels,” he replies.

Shanelle rolled her eyes with a smirk.

“Just for that, you’re giving me a foot massage.”

A slow grin bloomed across his face. 

“As my Queen commands.” 

He knelt in front of her and slipped her heels off before slowly massaging her aching feet. He loved seeing the ecstasy on her face. 

“Better my love?” he asked.

“Much. I'm going to enjoy making you do this every time I have to wear heels,” she replied with her eyes closed.

“I welcome the opportunity to serve you.”

Just as the massage was getting good, there was an insistent knock at the door.

“Nooo!” Shanelle pouted. 

“Now now. I have more where that came from.” 

“But!” she protested. 

He kisses her slowly.

“I'm sure this won't take long.”

He got up and went to the door and when he opened it he was greeted by a very happy older black man.

“Hah! Hah! My boy, you've done it!” the older man triumphantly said as he wrapped Marquise in a very enthusiastic bear hug. 

“It's good to see you too, Papa.”

“When your mother told me the good news I couldn't wait to rub it in Constantine’s smug face.”

Marquise chuckled. 

“Maybe wait until I have the official title first.”

The old man waved him off.

“Even if he fired me for it, you would just hire me back. Because that's the man I raised you to be.”

Marquise shook his head with a smile.

“Are you going to let me in or do I have to stand here all night?” the older man asked.

Marquise stepped aside to let him in.

“Come in Papa.” 

“Thank you, my boy. Now, where is that beautiful young Princess of yours?” 

Marquise shook his head just as Shanelle cleared her throat. Catching their attention.

“There she is! And my! She's even more beautiful than I thought.”

“Papa! You are married!” Marquise fussed.

“Married. Not blind! Just because I’m on a diet doesn't mean I can't look at the dessert case.”

The elder man turned his attention to Shanelle with a bright smile.

“Bonsoir Votre Altesse.” the elder said with a bow. “My name is George Geaneaux. I am His Majesty’s lead attendant. I'm sure you've met my wife Margo.”

“Hello, Mr. Geaneaux. It's good to meet you.” Shanelle replied.

“Please call me George. And let me apologize to you. I'm sorry that I didn't get to meet you, your first time here. I was…indisposed at that moment.”

“It's okay. You’re here now.”

“Indeed I am. And much like His Highness, I am at your service, milady.”

Marquise rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

“Charming as ever Papa.”

“Of course I am, my boy. It's a part of my job.”

“How is Maman? Is she feeling any better?” Marquiss asked George.

“Yes, my boy. Your mother is doing fine. It was just a dizzy spell. She wanted to come to greet you both when you arrived, but I thought it was best that she get her rest.” George replies.

“Oh no! What happened?” Shanelle asked.

George cleared his throat before taking a deep breath.

“You must understand, Princess, dealing with Their Majesties…can be physically and emotionally taxing. Especially on the senior staff such as myself and my wife. Margo had forgotten to eat all day and her blood sugar dropped.” George replied.

Marquise closed his eyes and clenched his fists.

“I try not to worry Marquise about his mother but he is as insistent on knowing the status of her health and is as protective of her now as he was as a child.”

“Please give her my regards. I do hope that I'll see her while I’m here.”

“I will do just that, Princess. And I thank you for your concern for her.”

George turned back to Marquise who had a look on his face.

“Do not worry my boy.”

“Too late Papa.”

“Margo is fine. You know she would never go down without a fight. She's a lot tougher than you and I give her credit for.”

“I know Papa. I'm just…I wasn't here to protect her. She at least would've eaten if I was here.” 

“Far be it from me to ever defend your father, but it wasn't him who ran her ragged.” 

“Oh for the love of God!” Marquise hissed.

“Do you mean Queen Regina?” Shanelle asked.

“Yes, Your Highness. Her Majesty doesn't like any of the staff here. And she detests me and my wife the most.”

“But why?” Shanelle asked.

“Because they refuse to be bullied by her. That's why.” Marquise replied.

George shook his head. 

“You have always been overprotective of her and me.”

“I will always be Papa.”

“That's my boy. Now I should let you both get your rest. I will return to attend to both of your needs in the morning.”

Marquise nodded. 

“Merci papa. Dis à maman que je la verrai bientôt.”

“De rien, mon fils. Maintenant, reposez-vous. Je te verrai demain matin.”

George turned to Shanelle and bowed.

“I bid you farewell, Princess. I shall see you soon.”

“Good night George. I hope you rest well.”

George smiled before leaving the room. Leaving Marquise and Shanelle alone.

“It was good to meet George,” Shanelle said but Marquise never replied. 

“Hey, are you okay?” she asked him.

“To be honest with you, no. I'm worried about mom,” he replied.

“She's gonna be okay. You heard him.”

Marquise shook his head.

“Do you know they're the ones who convinced me to give up my dream of being Prime Minister to be King? They are why I am doing this. They and so many others like them are my motivation. My father has gone completely mad. He cares nothing for the people. He's even more selfish, self-centered, and self-serving than ever. I have to save my home. I have to save my people.”

Shanelle placed her hands in his. 

“And we will. We will save this kingdom and the people. I am just as invested in the future of Cordonia as you are.”

He kissed her forehead softly.

“Thank you. I didn't mean to dump all of this on you, my love.”

“It's alright. That's why I’m here. We are a team. We are Cordonia. You and me. Well, me more than you because everyone will eventually wind up loving me more.” 

Marquise snorted. 

“And I’m okay with that. Now let's get some food because I’m hungry then we'll get some rest. We have a full week ahead of us.” 

Shanelle nodded. 

“Works for me.”

Marquise ordered room service and before long the two were enjoying dinner on his balcony under the stars. 

“Oh. My. God! This seafood pasta is too fucking die for!” Shanelle said in between bites.

“I'm glad you like it, my love. I will have the kitchen staff add it to their menu rotation for you.” 

“You can do that?” she asked.

“Mmmhmm. When you’re nice to the staff here they don't mind doing things for you. It's quite a novel concept.”

“True. I hope Ozzie is okay though.”

“He'll be fine. Knowing him, he'll have the staff eating out his hand…I mean his paw in no time.”

Shanelle chuckled.

“How long have the kennels been here?” she asked.

“Longer than I've been alive. They were built for the hounds used in the Grand Hunt,” he replied.

“The Grand Hunt? What's that?” she asked.

“An annual event where all the nobles hop their happy usually drunk asses onto horses and go hunting. The one with the most kills would be named Master Of The Hunt,” he replied. 

“What would usually be hunted?” she asked.

“Wascally Wabbits,” he replied.

“Fuck you Elmer Fudd.” 

Marquise snickered. 

“Has a woman ever won?” she asked.

“Yup. As a matter of fact, Queen Genevieve has won the title twice. And your uncle never lets anyone forget it.” 

Shanelle rolled her eyes.

“There's also the annual Cordonian Derby.”

“I know about that. It's one of my dad’s favorite Cordonian pastimes. It's similar to the Kentucky Derby. Just without the racist southern undertones and Mint Juleps.” 

“I love the Kentucky Derby. I went to race my junior year of college.”

“I didn't know that.”

“Yup. Me, Tommy, a few guys we knew, and my brother all hopped on a jet to Louisville. I even won a little money.”

“You bet on the horses?” she asked.

“Yes. I always bet on horses. That and poker.”

Shanelle raised an eyebrow.

“You're good at poker?” she asked.

“Nope. I'm just better than you,” he replied with a wink.

“Looks like I’m gonna have to test that.”

“Be my guest, my love. I do love a good game of strip poker.”

Shanelle rolled her eyes with a smirk. 

“And now that dinner is done, how about we have a little dessert?” he asked.

“Sure. What did you get?” she replied.

He took the lid off a covered dish to reveal eclairs.

“These eclairs were made by George and Margo’s daughter Jenna. She's a pastry chef here.”

Shanelle took one bite and was in love.

“Forget you! I'm about to marry her! These are delicious!”

Marquise snickered. 

“I'll be sure to give my sister your compliments.”

“You really see them as family.”

“Yes, I do. When my father decided that he couldn't be troubled or bothered with the responsibility of raising his children, Margo and George stepped in. They took us in and gave us love that I will never be able to repay either of them for. They know how important family is, especially Margo.”

“She told me that she and her brothers grew up in an orphanage.”

“They did. Margo, Jean-Pierre, and uncle Abhi are originally from France. Their father died when Abhi was a baby. And their mother…she met a man who was very well off. He owned a textile company. And their mother fell head over heels in love with him. But he wouldn't marry her because she had children. So he made her choose between him and her children.”

“No! She didn't!”

“She did. She put Margo and her brothers on a train to Cordonia and never looked back. They were supposed to come live with a cousin here but that fell through and they wound up at the orphanage.”

“My God! How old were they?” Shanelle asked.

“Jean-Pierre was 8, Margo was 6, and Abhi was 2. Their mother went on to marry the man and have kids with him. And when he died, he left everything to her. And when she died, she left it all to Margo and her brothers.” 

“If Margo has money like that, why is she still working here?” Shanelle asked.

“Because Margo didn't want the money, she just wanted her mother,” he replies.

“I can understand that. So what happened with their siblings? The bigger question: how many siblings do they have?” she asked.

“Margo and her brothers have 3 other siblings. I remember Leo and I going with Margo and Jean-Pierre to their mother’s funeral. Their siblings were not happy to see us. And when the will was read, they were devastated. Their mother knew they would squander the money and the company so she left everything to the children she forgot. As a compromise, they gave most of the money to their siblings. Margo bought a house here for her family and Jean-Pierre fixed up the butcher shop. And uncle Abhi took over the business. He makes all my suits.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. That's just one of the many reasons why I love her. Margo’s heart is so big that she welcomed two children who weren't hers into her family and never let us go.”

“She's a special one to put up with you.”

Marquise stuck his tongue out at her just before she tried and failed to hide a yawn.

“Somebody’s sleepy.”

“Yup. A full belly makes me sleepy.”

“Then let's turn in. We have a full day tomorrow and I want you to be in tip-top shape.”

Shanelle nodded before they walked back into his bedroom and went to sleep in his arms. The next morning they were up bright and early after having breakfast, meeting with the many councils, guilds, commissions, and committees. By lunchtime, she was exhausted.

“Sheesh! I have never had to introduce myself to so many people.” 

“Welcome to life as the next reigning Monarch, my love.”

“Will it always be this way?” she asked.

“For the most part, yes. But we will have time for our own private moments,” he replied as he led her into a side courtyard where lunch was waiting.

“Ugh! Thank you! I'm starving. And we had a big breakfast this morning.”

“Are you starving my love or do you just like to eat?” he asked.

“Both,” she replied before digging into her salad. “Oh, my God! Why is the food here so damn good?”

“Because you don't have an entire Michelin Starred kitchen staff at your disposal.” 

“This is literally the best Chicken Caesar Salad I've ever had. The chicken is tender, the greens are fresh, the Parmesan cheese is real and not the stuff in the container although I have no problems with the cheese in the green container, and this Caesar dressing is the freshest I've ever had…I think I’m in love. I never thought I could love food like this.”

Marquise snorted. 

“It's just a salad love.”

“No no! It is a life-changing salad! This is a product of the Salad Gods!” 

“Well now that you've been blessed by the Gods of salad, how are you feeling about everything we've done today so far?” he asked. 

“It's a lot to take in but I’m feeling good. It was good to meet the actual people behind the councils as well as the leaders. They all seem eager and ready to hit the ground running like we are. And as you said, this is just one part of the kingdom. We still have to visit South Cordonia.” she replies.

“And we will. I know you’re eager to see it. Believe me, my love, I would never just throw you into the deep end if I didn't think you could swim.”

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

“I'm hopeful. I think the kingdom is starting to really come around to the idea that the new Monarchy is about the people. And not just the nobility. I think that they're hoping to have a Cordonia for all and not just one side. And I think they're looking to us to achieve that.” he replies.

“That was always your goal and now it'll be our reality.”

He rubbed the knuckles of her left hand with his thumb.

“I don’t think I will ever have enough words to tell you how thankful I am for you. I swear to you this marriage isn't just about Cordonia. First and foremost, it is about my undying love and devotion to and for you. It will never be a prison sentence. You will always have your freedom, your autonomy, and your agency to do whatever you please. I would never stand in your way.”

“Save that for your marriage vows.”

“Can't. My vows are way too damn long already.”

“You wrote your vows already?” she asked.

“I had them written the day I met you,” he replied.

Shanelle shook her head with a smile. 

“You are hopelessly romantic.”

He brought her left hand to his lips for a soft kiss.

“I always have been and I always will be.”

“I hope you stay that way.”

“I want you to know something very important.”

“What?” she asked.

“I love you, Shanelle.”

Shanelle smiled at him.

“I love you too, Marquise.”

Just when he thought this moment couldn't get any better a voice called out. 

“There you two are! I've been looking all over this palace for you.”

It was Margo.

Marquise immediately stood up and embraced Margo.

“Hello, my son. I've missed you too.”

“Are you feeling better mama?” he asked.

Margo kissed his cheek.

“Yes, my darling. I'm fine. You shouldn't worry so much. I can take care of myself.” she replies. 

“I know. But as long as they breathe you, George and the rest of the staff are not safe. And I would die if something were to happen to you.”

“You are your mother’s child. Always looking out for me, George, and the staff the way she always used to. Ellie would be so proud of you son.”

“Thank you, mama.”

Margo smiled at him before looking at Shanelle with a warm smile.

“Hello, Your Highness! Congratulations on being engaged to this lovable oaf.”

“Hey!” Marquiss pouted. 

Shanelle snickered. 

“Thank you, Margo. You did a good job with this one.”

Margo chuckled.

“I tried. He has so much of Ellie in him. I just try to bring it out.”

Shanelle smiled.

“Now I'm sure I've taken up enough of yours and his time. But again, congratulations my dear. He's a lucky man to have you.”

“I'm the lucky one, Margo.”

Margo smiled before looking at Marquise.

“I will be fine, son. I don't want you to worry.”

“Mama…”

“None of that. You are the next King. I want you to be strong.”

“She's right.” Shanelle agreed.

“Listen to your future Queen, son.” 

Marquise shook his head with a smile.

“They're ganging up on me.” 

“With good reason, son.”

Marquise placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

“Thank you, mama. I'll see you soon.”

Margo smiled at them both before leaving them alone.

“She seems very happy for us,” Shanelle said to him.

“She is. I've known her my whole life. She has always been happy for me. She has always wanted the best for me.”

“I'm happy that you have her and George.”

“So am I.”

Marquise checked his watch.

“Well now that we've had a very filling lunch, are you ready to get back to it?” he asked. 

“I guess. Just if you see me start to doze, gently nudge me awake,” she replied.

“Deal.”

He offered her his arm as they walked back into the palace. The couple spent the rest of the afternoon and part of the evening meeting the rest of the councils. When they got back to his room, Shanelle was ready to crash.

“Ugh! Too…much…talking…brain…is…fried.” she groaned into a pillow.

She felt his arms wrap around her.

“Poor Princess. She's all tuckered out.” he teased. 

“Go to hell.” she hissed. 

He turned her over so that she was facing him. 

“If I do that I won't be able to do this.”

He kissed her slowly. Savoring the taste of her lips on his.

“You're insufferable.”

“And yet. You love me, my love.”

“Yes, I do.”

She laid her head on his chest. He was becoming her safe space from the world. They laid on his bed in companionable silence with her listening to the beat of his heart.

“I like this.”

“What?” he asked.

“I like having this time alone with you.”

He kissed her forehead softly. 

“Good. I'm glad you do. I always want you to know that you will always be loved, respected, heard, appreciated, protected, and defended by me. I am your knight, your husband, your partner before I am anything else.”

“I just worry that it won't always be like this.”

He tilted her chin up so that she was looking at him directly.

“That is one thing you will never have to question or worry about. I will always be available to and for you.”

“You promise?” she asked.

“I swear it on my life, and my mother’s great name and legacy,” he replied. 

Shanelle smiled at him.

“I'm hungry but I also need to take a shower.”

“Okay well, go hop in the shower and I'll order us some dinner.”

“Sounds like a plan. Too bad you won't be in there when I get in.”

“Well yeah. That's because I will be waiting for you when you get out,” he said with a wink.

He watched her walk into his ensuite and after several minutes of hearing her fawning over the bathroom, he heard the water turn on and that's when he ordered them dinner. While waiting for their food and for her to get out of the shower, Marquise pulled his laptop out and got a few emails and requests sent off. As he was typing one last email, there was a knock at the door. And when he opened the door there stood Naya on the other side.

“Get the hell away from me!” he hissed at her.

“Marquise, please. I'm so sorry.” 

“What the hell do you want?” he sneered at her.

“I just want to talk. That's all.” Naya replied.

“After the stunt you pulled, I don't have shit to say to you.” Marquise hissed. 

“I know and again I'm sorry. I was desperate and I didn't know what else to do. Please, you have to believe me.”

“Do you know her ex not only broke into my home but he pulled a gun on me because of you?” he asked.

“No, I had no idea,” Naya replied. 

“Well, now you do. Congratulations.”

“You were never supposed to get hurt, I swear. He was only supposed to get her to leave you, that's all.”

“I could've been shot because of you! Hell, I could've been killed! And far be it from me to ever defend her ex, but you could have sent an innocent man to prison! Not to mention that if he had gone to jail, his daughter would be without her father. On top of the war that could've started once again, all because of you.” Marquise snapped at her.

“It got out of hand. I realize that. I shouldn't have called him, I know that now.”

“So what are you expecting? Me to just forgive and forget?” he asked Naya.

“Yes. I'm sorry Marquise. I really am. I never meant for things to go as far as they did.” she replied.

“Not going to happen. I have moved on. And it's time that you do the same, Naya.”

“Marquise, please! Just give me a chance.”

“Go home Naya. Go back to your husband and stay there.”

“I said I was sorry! You don't have to dismiss me like I mean nothing to you.”

“You heard him. It's time for you to go back to your husband.”

When Naya and Marquise looked over Shanelle was standing in the bathroom doorway. 

“Who the fuck are you to talk to me like that?” Naya sneered at Shanelle.

“Well for starters, I'm his fiancee. And second, I'm your future Queen. Whether you like it or not I am not going anywhere. Oh and one last thing, I am the woman he loves and will be marrying. Not you.” Shanelle answered. 

“You idiotic twit! Who the fuck do you think you are?!” Naya sneered.

“Goodbye Naya,” Marquise said to his ex.

“Are you really standing here and choosing this American mutt over me?!” Naya asked Marquise. 

Rather than answer, Marquise slammed the door in Naya’s face. Marquise pinched the bridge of his nose while exhaling slowly.

“How much of that did you hear?” he asked.

“Almost all of it,” she replied. 

Marquise let out an explosive breath. 

“I shouldn't have opened the door.”

“Did you know she would be on the other side?” Shanelle asked.

“No. I honestly thought she was one of the kitchen staff bringing dinner,” he replies. 

“Then it's not your fault. It was fun to watch you slam the door in her face.”

Marquise took a deep breath.

“Naya is testing my patience.”

“Don't let her. Don't let her ruin your mood. And thank you for defending Cass. He never would've been there if it wasn't for her.”

“I don't like him but I would never want an innocent man going to prison because of her.” 

“I know. But I’m thankful nonetheless. Now enough about her. Let's focus on you helping me with my lotion.”

A slow smile bloomed across his face. 

“Gladly!” he said before picking her up and carrying her to the bed. 

They spent the rest of the night enjoying dinner and each other. Later that night while Shanelle was asleep, Marquise was trying to figure out how Naya got past security. He called Alex to find out. 

“Alex, I specifically told you not to let Naya anywhere near Shanelle, so explain to me how in the hell did she get past you?” Marquise asked.

“She was given clearance, Marquise. I couldn't stop her.” Alex replies.

Marquise rolled his eyes.

“Fucking Bastien.” Marquise hissed. 

“It wasn't Bastien. She went directly to your father.”

“What?!” Marquise asked.

“From what I found out, she requested an audience with him and asked him for clearance to speak with you. And when she presented me and the team with the signed order from His Majesty, there wasn't anything we could do. We can't go against him.” Alex replied.

“For now…if she comes back, you are to stop her immediately. I don’t care what decree my father has signed. I don't want her anywhere near Shanelle. Understood?” 

“Yes, Your Highness.” 

“Good. Now go get your rest.”

With a curt nod, Alex was gone and Marquise went to bed. The rest of their week was filled with more meetings, introductions, lunch breaks, and courtly lessons squeezed in between them all. By that Thursday, Shanelle was ready to throw in the towel.

“Can I go home now?” she whined while laying in his arms. “I don't like this anymore!” 

He snorted. 

“To whom much is given, much is required, my love.” 

Shanelle groaned. 

“Smartass! If I wanted to hear chapter and verse I’d open a Bible.” 

“If you went home now you'd miss touring your duchy tomorrow.”

“We're going to see my duchy tomorrow?” she asked.

“Yes, my love. It's important you meet the people that you'll represent,” he replied. 

“Finally! What time do we leave?” she asked.

“In the morning my love. You'll even get to meet a few friends of mine,” he replies.

“Friends of yours huh? They wouldn't happen to be the two chaos agents you sent in to disrupt my life would they?” she asked.

“Yes. Those two friends,” he replies.

“So I get to meet Liam and Drake? Interesting.”

“Maxwell and Drake actually. And in their defense, they only did what I told them to do.”

“Okay. I still want to hear from them. And I want an apology!”

“Very well, my love. Let us get some rest and tomorrow we are off to your duchy and South Cordonia.” 

The next morning couldn't come fast enough for Shanelle. She was up and ready to go see her duchy. She proved this by practically dragging Marquise out of the palace. 

#khoicesbyk #choices #choices stories you play #pixelberry #fanfic #choices fanfiction #king marquise #queen shanelle #king of cordonia #queen of cordonia #king and queen of cordonia #love everlasting #the royal romance #black couple #black king liam #black love #black marriage #my otp #otp #my otp forever #choices fic writers creations #fics of the week

[havethetimeofyourstyles]

in which a new relationship sparks up in the restaurant. 

a/n: hi loves! i’m back with a new story, and this is for nat’s @harrystylescherry​ playlist fic challenge! the song i chose is ‘say it’ by maggie rogers, which is one of my absolute favorite songs! hope you all like it, please reblog and leave feedback!

WORD COUNT: 13.8k words of waiter!harry x waitress!yn 

WARNINGS: angst and some smut 

COME INTO MY INBOX AND LETS TALK ABOUT ‘SAY IT’ i’d love to know your thoughts!

pls rb to share <3

It was eleven in the morning when Harry walked through the back door of ‘Spring,’ ready to start his long day of being on his feet while waiting tables. 

He walked to the staff’s lounge that held their lockers and a bench before looking around to see if anyone else was in the locker room; he turned the dial of his lock pad to open his blue locker. His coworkers would always tease him about being so secretive when he knows that no one would actually steal from him, but better to be safe than sorry, and he couldn’t imagine how awkward that would be confronting one of his coworkers if they actually had stolen from him. 

He put his white canvas tote bag that was printed in a brown text that said ‘Celestial Natural Foods’—a store in Hawaii—in his locker and hanging it on one out of the two hooks before grabbing his black waist apron and tying it around his waist. 

The restaurant’s attire was a simple white or black button down with black trousers. The manager of the restaurant, Irene, told the staff that they could choose either color shirt whenever they pleased. As for jewelry, she didn’t mind when her waiters and waitresses wore jewelry, as long as it wasn’t interfering with how they held the plates of food, causing them to drop it. Harry was glad to hear that Irene allowed jewelry because his rings and necklaces made him Harry. Twisting his rings and fixing his necklaces, he took a quick glance at the small mirror that was stuck on the inside of the door with a magnet, and combed his hair back with his hands before closing his locker shut and locking it. 

He washed his hands at the sink next to the locker room, and he smiled at the commotion and noise from behind him that came from the kitchen crew. They were prepping for the dinner hour, chopping up various vegetables, making the restaurant’s famous dressing and sauces, and baking the side dishes that usually took a while in the oven. 

“Hey, Harry!” Jet, one of the sous chefs, greeted as he looked up at Harry with a big smile as he continued chopping up cabbage like the professional chef that he was. 

Harry chuckled, amazed at his knife skills. “Hey, Jet. How are you today?” He leaned against the stainless steel countertop as he talked to Jet through the open space of the shelves, where the food rested under the heated and dim light when it was ready to be served. 

“I’m doing great! How was your three day vacation?” 

“It was okay. It went by fast, but I missed it here anyways,” Harry responded with a smile. Jet laughed, nodding. 

“Well, we missed you too. Anyways, Irene told me to tell you that she’s looking for you.” Harry squinted his eyes slightly, not knowing whether Irene looking for him was a good or bad thing, and Jet seemed to notice what he was thinking. “Don’t worry. I’m pretty sure it’s nothing bad.” 

Harry nodded, feeling somewhat relieved. Jet was his closest friend at Spring, ever since Harry started working as a waiter three years ago. He desperately needed a job because being his own boss and freelancing as a photographer could be difficult sometimes; and building up a client list when he first started out was even harder. But three years later, he was able to get his name around through his clients, and he earned enough where he could technically quit his job at Spring and focused purely on photography; however, Harry liked the restaurant too much to just quit—he liked serving people, believe it or not. His charms go a long way for respectful and kind customers, and of course, a great tip. Most of his friends always worked here as well, as he didn’t have quite a lot of friends since he moved from London, but his coworkers had become his very own friends, and he loved them too much to leave. 

“Thanks, I’ll see you when we open!” Harry said as Jet waved to him, watching him walk around the counter to find Irene who was talking to a woman he’s never seen before. 

He’s always loved walking through the restaurant because it had such a friendly and open vibe with white painted walls, trees planted in a line in the middle of the floor, and a big glass ceiling for a solarium ambience. His favorite part was that there were no walls to separate the dining area from the kitchen, so customers could see straight through the kitchen and watch the chefs work on their food with just a turn of their heads. 

“Ah, there he is,” Irene said once Harry was close enough. “I’m glad you’re early.” 

“Irene, I’m always early, what do you mean?” Harry breathed out a chuckle. 

“I know you are. I’m just glad you’re extra early today because I need you to train this lovely woman next to me.” Irene stepped out of the way to reveal you to the waiter that was going to train you today. 

Harry looked at you, and immediately, his breath was caught in his throat. The light that was provided through the glass ceiling cast down at you, giving you a glow that was ethereal, and he mentally thanked the interior designer of the restaurant from so many years ago for insisting on putting a glass ceiling instead of a regular, covered one. There you were, standing in the open light as you flashed him a smile that almost made him collapse due to how weak his knees were, and he physically had to place a hand on the brown wooden table next to him to keep himself up. You were stunning, to say the least. 

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you offered him a hand, smiling softly at him. He shook your hand, feeling the softness of your small hand and how it contrasted to his large and somewhat rough hand. 

“I’m Harry. It’s lovely to meet you.” He smiled, two dimples indenting his cheeks. You noticed that his left dimple was more prominent than his right, but either way, you thought he was a gorgeous man. 

Yours and Harry’s eyes had lingered a bit longer, and once you had caught yourself staring, you forced yourself to take your eyes off him, even though it was difficult to. And that’s when you knew it was going to be a slight problem working around him. 

“Now that introductions are out of the way,” Irene interrupted. She turned towards Harry. “Harry, this is our newest addition to our waiting staff. You’ve been here long enough and it seems like you’re here everyday, so I’m going to leave her with you to train.” Once she was down, Irene turned towards you. “Y/N, you’re going to train with Harry for the rest of the week. It’s usually two weeks that are required for training, but since you’ve had waiting experience before, I’ll knock it down to one, and by the end of the week, we’ll see how you’re doing and where you are with everything. Sounds good?” 

You nodded excitedly, giving her a bright smile before she clapped her hands and said ‘great.’ Harry looked at you the entire time, and he just knew that you were the type of person that could light up a room with your beautiful and bright smile. 

Irene turned towards Harry once more. “Show her the ropes, introduce her to people, and just make her comfortable, yeah?” Harry nodded, teasingly saluting at his boss as he earned a laugh from her. 

Irene left, leaving the two of you, but your attention was preoccupied with the restaurant as you eagerly looked around, getting familiar with the place you’d hoped to be stable at for a while. 

Harry cleared his throat, to which you immediately looked at him. He gave you a smile before he said, “So, ready for your first day?” 

“Ready!” You exclaimed, tone a bit too excited, making you slightly embarrassed, so you curled your lips into your mouth and looked around the restaurant again to hide your slight embarrassment. 

Harry giggled. “Don’t look around too much—you might get tired of this place before you even start,” he teased, completely forgetting how shy and embarrassed you looked. 

“I think I’m gonna like it here,” you confessed immediately, feeling a certain comfort once you walked into the restaurant. Hell, the moment you researched the restaurant, you loved the place. 

“Well, I’m glad to hear that.” Harry led you around the counter where customers could watch the chefs in action as they cooked their meals. “This is where you could get all the supplies needed—napkins, extra plates, utensils, place mats, everything should be here. If not, then it’ll usually be in the kitchen, right over here.” He walked over to the kitchen where there were more supplies under the table, and pointed below the table. “Here’s more if the ones behind the counter run out, and if they do run out and you just so happen to be there, please make sure to refill it.” You nodded understandingly. 

Harry walked you through the steps of how the system of the restaurants worked as he imputed a demo order into the system on the touchable screen. There were five order screens, one in each corner of the restaurant, one behind the counter, and one in the kitchen; there shouldn’t be any collision or anyone waiting for one of the severs to finish with the screen because there were only about four to five servers working every shift considering it was a small restaurant. Harry then walked you along on where to pick up the order as every dish had its receipt with the order printed on the paper along with the table number. He told you that the table numbers are in order of how the tables are set up—number one starts with the countertops since it’s closest to the entrance, following along the walls, and the tables in the middle were numbered last. 

You liked how easy their routine and system was that you were sure you’d have it down by the end of the week. Harry made sure to introduce you to the staff that you two passed by as he led you throughout the restaurant; he made you feel comfortable right from the bat, making sure to make a few jokes here and there that certainly released some tension in your shoulders from nerves. You were grateful that he made you laugh--you were worried that you wouldn’t like your coworkers or they would be mean and snarky because you’re the newbie, but with Harry, it seemed like you two were getting along quite well; he was polite, helpful, and kind. 

“So, that’s pretty much it.” He looked at the time on his Apple Watch, reading a quarter to six in the evening, 15 minutes until Spring opened for dinner. “Do you have any questions?” 

You tried thinking of anything that you could ask, but your mind seemed to have collected all the information Harry had told you and retained it quite well. “No, nothing I can think of at the moment.” 

“Great. For now, do you mind checking the placemats and the table decor for me?” You nodded helpfully. “And then if you have any remaining time left, just chill out and take a breather for a second, and then come find me when we open.” 

“Okay. Sounds good.” You smiled at him sweetly, making him smile back before he walked away and towards the kitchen. 

You headed towards the dining room, making sure the woven placements were symmetrical and even; you also straightened out the utensils that made their way out of line or off the tablemats. You did this for the rest of the ten minutes you had of peace before you made your way through the restaurant to find Harry. 

The entire time you were in the dining room, Harry was in the locker room, mindlessly on his phone to waste time. He was lucky that he didn’t have to do anything before the restaurant opened, so he had some spare time to relax for a bit. He tried cooling down to get the pink flush that painted his cheeks off, but that’s what happened when he was around you; immediately, you had already had this effect on him, making him blush and nervous around you, and he didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was the way you brightly smiled at him, practically gleaming; or the way you laughed at his jokes, which even he could admit are a bit corny and bad—a very dad-like joke, but you still laughed. 

Whatever it was, he knew that he was fucked. 

Dinner time was a rush. Spring was busy and full; the reservation booklet was booked with no space to cater to walk-ins. 

You were shadowing Harry as you followed him around like a lost puppy, watching him interact with the customers, occasionally pulling out his charm so he would get a big tip. You couldn’t imagine if you were a customer and Harry was your server because your face would heat up instantly, and it would be difficult to contain a smile on your face. He had such a natural charm to him, making him naturally flirty as he flashed customers his smile and laughing at their horribly made jokes. 

For half of the night, you simply followed him around, watched the paths he took when he got the customers’ food and his overall routine of things. With every table he got assigned to, he made sure to introduce you to the party, always glancing over at you once he said your name as you greeted the customers with a bright smile. Harry nearly had to stop every time he glanced over at you as it seemed like your beauty always distracted him. 

You helped him with dealing with the plates, beverages, and getting extra necessities such as cheese, hot sauce, or extra utensils and plates for the table. 

Once the restaurant died down a bit, you and Harry were able to walk a bit slower, relaxing each time a party leaves. When there was about an hour and a half left of your shift and till the restaurant closes, Harry asked you if you’d like to take orders, saying it’ll be best if he observed how you would talk and serve the customers, and you excitedly said ‘yes.’ Harry was only assigned to five to six tables during his shift, and since it was near closing time, there were only two that had just arrived. 

Harry politely introduced himself, telling the parties that you were new and shadowing him, but you were going to take over for the rest of their stay at Spring. He watched you kindly talk to them, occasionally making small talk as you laughed with them; you talked about your favorite items on the menu, along with your favorite selection of wine. This time, Harry helped you with your tasks that you had done before you two switched off, and he immediately admitted to himself that the two of you made such a great team. It was only your first day here, and he already saw how naturally the both of you moved around one another, along with communicating so well with each other. 

You were bidding the last party in the restaurant goodbye with a wave and telling them to enjoy the rest of their evening before you grabbed the mason jar that held the bill, along with the tips. You walked over to the kitchen where Irene was counting all the money and placed the mason jar besides her, giving her a smile before walking over to the locker room. 

Harry was sitting on the bench with his phone in his hands, and looked up once you entered the room. 

“How was your first day?” He smiled. 

“It was actually really great. The energy here is amazing.” 

“Well, I’m glad. You’re a natural, and it helps both of us that you already have restaurant experience.” Harry completely put his phone away into his tote bag, giving you his attention, which you really admired. Some people would make small talk and quickly end the conversation to go back on their phones. “Where did you work before, if you don’t mind me asking?” 

“I actually moved here from NorCal—San Francisco—just two weeks ago. But I worked at one of the restaurants at Pier 49. The restaurant was pretty small and we weren’t as busy as it was here, only on the weekends we would get a bit busy. So, this is definitely completely different than being outside and smelling the fresh ocean a few feet away,” you explained, chuckling. 

“Wow, SF, that’s quite the trip. But we’re glad to have you. I think you’re fitting right in.” 

“Thank you. I already like it here.” Harry gave you a warm smile, grateful that you had a great first day, and that Spring gave you a good first impression for you to stay. 

The two of you chatted a bit, talking about the customers you had and laughing at the jokes they made or the conversations they talked about. It was kind-hearted and fun, and a conversation that made you feel light; it wasn’t anything serious. It ended when it was time for closing, cleaning up and making sure everything was in order for tomorrow afternoon’s shift. 

Irene handed the staff their tips for the night, which you amounted for $120 for a Sunday night. It wasn’t bad for your first night of tips, and you knew you would be working a lot more since this was your only job and you weren’t doing anything else. 

As everyone walked outside into the staff parking lot, everyone said their goodbyes to one another, spreading apart and walking out to their vehicles. 

Once you opened your car door, Harry called out for you from the opposite side of where you parked. 

“Yeah?” You raised your brows. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He offered a smile before getting into his car and starting it, but he waited until you were safely inside of your car and out of the parking garage, and then he would leave. 

He couldn’t help but notice the smile that appeared onto your face before you got inside your car, and he couldn’t help but think about how incredibly beautiful you are. 

The entire week went on just like your first day. You were getting more comfortable with the flow of the restaurant, and where everything was. You continued shadowing Harry, but some days, he would let you serve your customers for the entire shift. 

Now that it was Friday evening, you couldn’t wait to relax the next day. You had told Irene that you were available all days of the week, and since you were new and still needed to complete training, she scheduled you for Sunday to Friday, getting Saturday off, which you appreciated. When you told yourself that you were able to work all day, you didn’t realize how exhausting and tiring that was until it came down to the end of the week as your feet ached, telling you to sit down for at least an entire day. 

Once it was closing time, you were finally able to catch a breath as you cleaned up part of the dining room. Chatter and laughter was heard from the kitchen quite loud as it echoed against the walls; you smiled, enjoying the sound of laughter, especially when it came from people you knew. 

As you were mindlessly wiping down tables, Harry walked up to you with two cocktails in his hands, smiling as he handed you one. You raised your brows, hesitant to take it from him as you wondered if it was allowed to drink since you were technically still on the clock. 

“Irene made them for us, if that’s what you’re wondering,” he said as if he read your mind. You breathed out a chuckle, taking a glass before thanking him and clinking your glass with his before taking a sip of the cold tequila drink. You sighed in relief, and Harry giggled. “Do you have any plans for tonight? I know it’s almost midnight, but I mean…you could still.” He felt his ears heat up, feeling a tad bit nervous when he was around you. 

“No, I don’t. I don’t really have any friends in SoCal, but I can't wait to go home and sleep.” 

“O-Oh okay, I was just gonna ask if you’d like to stay for a bit longer.” 

“Here? For what?” You asked curiously. 

“Well, the lot of us get together after night shifts to do a mini celebration at the end of the long and busy week. We only do it Fridays since that’s when most of us are working all together,” he said referring to the bunch laughing and talking in the kitchen. You did notice now that you had been working with the same group of people, and partially that was because you only mostly worked night shifts and so did the rest. “We usually stay for an hour—drink, eat, talk. It made us closer, actually, so I’d thought you might like to join since you’re new,” he invited.

You didn’t take long to think of an answer—to weigh out your choices of wanting to go to bed at a somewhat reasonable time or stay an extra hour and hang out with your coworkers. 

“I’d actually really love that, thank you,” you accepted his invitation with a sweet smile, making Harry’s heart pound just a tad bit harder against his chest. 

“Great! Well, come on into the kitchen when you’re done. The chefs are cooking up some food,” he said before he walked away, leaving you to finish up your tasks for the night, which didn’t take you any more than ten minutes to finish up. 

You walked into the kitchen and Harry immediately handed you a plate that you gladly took. Jet excitedly waved to you to go over to the stove so he could serve you. 

“Allergic to anything?” He asked to make sure you weren’t going into the emergency room tonight. 

“Uh, shellfish when it’s consumed. I’m okay to be around it, though.”

“Oh shit, this would not be good for you.” His eyes widened as he immediately dropped the large silver serving spoon of the lobster risotto; it looked absolutely delicious. “Good thing I’m prepared. Do you like spaghetti and meatballs?” 

“Love.”

“Great!” He started plating your plate with the food before handing it back to you with an ‘enjoy!’ as you thanked him. 

Once everyone was satisfied, you all headed out to the dining table, settling on a large rectangle table comfortably. There were about twelve of you, and it seemed like everyone had assigned seats since they immediately went straight to their spot and placed their table or drink in front of it. 

You were a bit lost, not knowing where to sit, and the only person you’re reasonably close to was Harry, but it seemed like he was a bit preoccupied chatting with Quinn, another chef. 

“Y/N! Sit next to me, yeah?” Ivy, one of the waitresses called out for you. You smiled, thankful she was the one to ask you, and you gladly took a seat next to her. 

Harry took the seat in front of Ivy, diagonal from you, and he really wished he was the one sitting next to you. 

“Damn, I really should get a large circle table for all of us so we could see each other’s faces,” Irene suggested, and the group agreed, but everyone wondered where it would be placed since the restaurant had no space for another large table. 

Everyone broke out into their own conversations, chatting with one another freely and as loud as they wanted. 

“How was your first week here, Y/N?” Ivy asked. 

“It was great! I really love this place.” Harry looked at you as you talked with Ivy. He really could get lost just looking at your beauty, and sometimes, he would have to knock himself out of his glare to prevent him from getting caught. He was just so captivated by you, and it didn’t take a lot of effort for him to be so drawn to you. 

Ivy had definitely noticed Harry’s stare from the corner of her eye, and admittingly, she got jealous because she’s had a small crush on Harry ever since she started working at Spring four months ago. But it wasn’t like she was going to do anything about it because it seemed like he didn’t take interest in her, so she wasn’t going to force it. However, it didn’t slip past her that you occasionally glanced over at Harry as well—briefly averting your eyes towards him once he took a sip of his water or someone had pulled him out of his attention on you to make conversation. 

Gently pulling you by the arm, Ivy leaned over to whisper into your ear. “Harry’s totally crushing on you.” 

You pulled back, shocked. “What?” You mouthed. 

“He can’t stop looking at you—it’s so obvious.” You simply chuckled, shaking your head slightly as your cheeks felt warm, not from the alcohol or how close everyone was sitting, but because you couldn’t even believe that Harry would have a crush on you. Sure, you two had spent the entirety of your shifts together, but you didn’t think that he would have a crush on you. 

You tried not to think of Ivy’s words for the rest of the night, and you tried even harder to not look at Harry to catch it he was staring at you. Your thoughts seemed to make you more drunk when you were trying to sober up to drive back home. You only had three cocktails, which was quite mindless of you to be drinking when you had to drive home, but you simply wanted to have fun because you deserved it, and you were comfortable and making friends. And everyone seemed to be drinking as well as they were getting a ride from the more responsible ones who were driving and leaving their car in the parking garage during the night. 

Once everyone was all out of their social battery with their plates and glasses empty, you all started to clean up, helping one another to make the process of going home quicke; there were two people washing the dishes and two people drying as the rest put those dishes away and cleaned the table. 

Just like every single night, everyone said their goodbyes in the parking lot before going to their cars to head home for a good night's rest. 

You were sober, but you didn’t feel safe enough to drive, and you don’t know if that’s the alcohol or the thoughts of Harry making you dizzy. So, instead of walking to your car, you took out your phone and opened the Uber app, knowing you’d be able to get a ride home quickly since it was past midnight on a Friday night. 

“Hey, whatcha doing?” Harry asked, walking up to you once he noticed that you weren’t going to your car. He made it a habit to watch you get inside your car and leave the parking garage safely because anything could happen in the few minutes if he left before you. 

“I’m calling an Uber. I don’t wanna drive back…” you replied before looking down at your phone again.

“Oh, I could drive you home, if you’d like?” He offered politely. 

“Really? You don’t have to do that.”

“I insist. I would feel better knowing that I was the one that got you home safely.” The corners of your lips couldn’t help but turn up into a smile as your heart fluttered against your ribcage. 

“That’s really sweet, Harry, I’d like that,” you accepted. Harry grinned, leading you to his car as you followed; he walked over to the passenger seat, opening the door for you, which easily almost made your knees buckle in. How is he such a gentleman and so incredibly kind? You wondered, thinking about how rare it was to meet a man without anything leading to more than a conversation. 

You thanked him before getting into his car; his car was very clean and he had a Saturn air freshener that hung on his rearview mirror, admitting a fresh lemon scent throughout his vehicle. Harry got in, handing you his phone to play some music and to enter your address before starting the car and driving out of the parking garage. You played Daniel Caesar, which you thought was the perfect kind of music for a night drive since your place was fifteen minutes away from the restaurant. The two of you sang along to ‘Hold Me Down’ as he watched you from the corner of his eye, adorably swaying in your seat to the song as you muttered the lyrics. 

The sunroof cover was open, giving you an orange glow every time the car passed by a lamppost. Unconsciously, you both looked at one another every time the car stopped at a red light, both smiling at one another. You were thankful that it was dark out as it hid your big smile from how much you were giddy just looking at Harry. 

Once the navigation told him that your place was on the right, he parked against the curb in front of your apartment complex. You unbuckled your seatbelt before turning towards him in your seat as he turned towards you as well. 

“Thank you for the ride, Harry. It was really kind of you to offer.” 

“Not a problem. Don’t be hesitant to ask again. I rarely drink when we have our after-hours dinners, so you’re free to drink all you want and I’ll be glad to take you home,” he told you, and you smiled, nodding your head. 

“I’ll keep that in mind. It’s just been a while since I drank and hung out with friends,” you explained. 

“No worries. I’m glad you had fun, I assumed?” 

“Yeah, lots of fun! I really like it there, and you made it bearable and fun as well as my trainer,” you admitted. Harry felt his cheeks slightly redden, and just as you were thinking, he was grateful it was dark out. 

He cleared his throat. “Well, I’m glad. You’ll be on your own now. No need for me anymore since you’ve pretty much gotten everything done so quickly,” he chuckled, a dimple indenting his left cheek, making you hold in your breath. 

“Can I still ask you for help if I need you?” You asked innocently, leaning your elbow against the middle console as you rested your chin against your fist. Harry pursed in his lips as his mind focused on the last three words that slipped out of your mouth--I need you. It was merely an innocent question relating to work that he shouldn’t think too much about, but he couldn’t help it. 

“Of course. I’m always gonna be here if you need me,” he responded, keeping it friendly. At that, you smiled, nodding your head in acceptance. You gathered your belongings that rested at your feet before turning to face him again. Leaning forward, Harry thought you were leaning in to kiss him, which he wouldn’t mind whatsoever, but that dream was crushed when you wrapped your arm around his shoulder, giving him a hug. He hugged you back, placing his hand against your back and slightly rubbing his hand up and down, hoping you couldn’t feel his heart hammering against his chest at the feel of your upper body slightly pressed against him. 

You pulled away, giving him a shy smile. “I’ll see you on Sunday. Drive safe, okay?” 

“Always do. Sleep well.” He bid you goodbye as you got out of his car, walking over to the entrance of your apartment complex. You turned around before you opened the door, waving at him before heading inside. 

Harry drove off to his place, the opposite direction of your apartment, passing Spring. He could’ve honestly been home already in the comfort of his bed, but he didn’t mind taking you home at all. That only meant he got to spend a bit of more time together, but he noticed that with every passing second, minute, and hour, he felt himself falling for you just a bit more. 

You’ve been at Spring for almost a month, and you couldn’t believe how fast the days went by. The more you worked, the more you started to feel a place at home with the restaurant. It was welcoming and fun, and all the credit was due to the people that you surrounded yourself with. You felt a difference in your attitude, your mood, and you liked the change that it brought you--you felt happy. 

Being in San Francisco your entire life was great up until it wasn’t. It was a toxic place for you simply because of the people that you were surrounded with. You noticed that you were always on fight-or-flight mode, ready for someone to make one comment at you so you could snap at them. You hated being and thinking like that, so the best thing you did for yourself was to move away from the toxicity of your hometown, and you were glad that you did. 

It was another usual Friday evening, after hours at Spring as you sat in your usual seat next to Ivy as the two of you and Harry were laughing about a story Ivy was telling about her ex-boyfriend in college. 

Harry looked over at you, heart swooning as he watched you laugh, wiping your under eyes from the tears that had slipped out. It was a beautiful sight, he’d say; you had such a beautiful smile and contagious laugh that he loved hearing, whether it’d be from the kitchen as he was in the dining room or in the locker room—wherever it was, he always smiled to himself when he heard it. 

The two of you had gotten quite close, making the work environment bearable and fun. When you would be in the same area at the same time, you had this thing where you would bump his hip with yours lightly, and he would bump yours right back—of course, when there weren’t any food or drink handling. There would always be light conversations within those hip bumps, comfortably getting to know one another, whether it would be asking quick-fire questions or a random story about one another’s lives that would come to mind. It wasn’t an ordinary setting or time to get to know each other, but it made things fun because the two of you would come up with more questions to come up with the next time he bumped into you. It was nice having a thing with you, he thought. 

There would be moments during those little meetings when your fingers would brush delicately against his, sending shivers to his body. It was simply overwhelming in the best way possible. 

Everyone called it a night, doing the nightly routine of tidying and cleaning everything up. Despite the long shift and being on your feet, you still had quite a bit of energy that you would like to use up so you could get a night’s rest. You looked at your friends, seeing if anyone was up for a late night adventure just based off of their posture and how often they yawned, and it seemed like everyone was exhausted, for obvious reasons. But you’d ask one person before you decide to go alone. 

Once everything was clean and ready for the Saturday’s brunch, everyone walked out of the restaurant, walking over to their cars. 

“Hey, Harry?” You called out, making him instantly turn around at the sound of your voice. 

“Yeah, love?” The pet name had merely slipped out, and you felt your face getting warm, shyly smiling. 

“Uh, you could totally say no and I would completely understand why because it’s Friday night, and we had a long shift, and you must be tired-”

“Y/N?” You stopped talking, raising your brows. “Breath, yeah? Take your time,” he interrupted the rambling that you hadn’t known you were doing. 

Nodding, you took a deep breath. You didn’t know why you were nervous, but every time you were around Harry, he just made you feel a certain swarm of butterflies entering your stomach. 

“I’m not as tired as I thought, and I wanna end tonight with some sweets. So, would you like to come with me to get some dessert? Again, you could say no.” 

Harry smiled. “I’d love to,” he replied with no second thought. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, of course. Plus, we could finally talk properly. Hate always walking away from our unfinished conversations.” He breathed out a chuckle, running his clad ring hand through his curls. 

“Great! Oh, uh, do you mind if we take your car? I took an Uber here, but I’ll compensate with buying you cookies and paying for your gas,” you suggested, keeping your excitement at bay. 

“No worries, c’mon. But I might take you up on the cookie offer.” He smiled, opening your door for you, which never failed to make you swoon. 

As he started the car, warming up the engine and turning the heater on, you two debated on where to go. You suggested going to Insomnia Cookies in Santa Monica, which was a twenty minute drive from Downtown LA, and it closed at two In the morning, but only if he was down to drive the opposite direction of where you two lived. And luckily, he didn’t mind the drive because he was always down for a late night drive and adventure, especially if it was with you. 

The car speakers played Frank Ocean, he merged on the 101, tapping his fingers along with the beat against the steering wheel. You subtly studied him as he drove, just as you did when you would glance at him across the restaurant. He always mindlessly curled his pink lips into his mouth, a habit that he, assumingly, had for years. You noticed how he would always play with his rings; his thumb would reach over to his other fingers to play with the heavy, metal rings; not helping that your mind would instantly go to what else his hands could do, especially to you, to your body, but you had to immediately snap yourself out of your thoughts to prevent them from going any further. Not to mention, the way his eyes always lit up; they had a natural gleam to them, making them incredibly irresistible to not look in his green eyes. 

He was captivating in all the right ways, and you felt yourself falling for him quite quickly, making that fear inside of you light up, inflaming your body with anxiousness. 

Your thoughts soon vanished when Harry pulled into a parking space in front of your destination, and he turned off the car. He turned to look at you, giving you a small smile before getting out. You decided to buy Harry anything he’d like, which he got the same six pack of cookies as you. 

Harry suggested eating in his car, which you agreed. Although the cold in SoCal wasn’t the same coldness as it was in NorCal, you didn’t want to stand around and freeze. The two of you make light conversation, talking about social media and enjoying the warmth of the fresh baked cookies. You then realized that you hadn’t followed him on Instagram, so you asked for his username, which was just his first and last name. 

“Your pictures are amazing,” you complimented.

“Stalking me already?” He teased. A smirk on his face present, making you roll your eyes as you didn’t know if you wanted to slap or kiss the smirk off—always wanting to go for the latter. “But thank you. I, uh, I actually took those myself.” Your eyes brightened. The photographs posted on his Instagram were mostly portraits of beautiful people, some of them were landscapes of a field or the mountains, but most of them were portraits. You knew very little about photography, thanks to the ‘Beginning of Photography 1’ class that you took in college, but you could see the depth of the picture and the way they’re taken; the emotion was clearly there, making you feel intensity through the picture. 

“Wow, you’re really talented, Harry.”

He blushed, looking down at his lap for a moment before looking back up at you again. “Thank you so much. I’m a freelance photographer.”

“Do you plan on leaving Spring to focus solely on photography?” You asked curiously. He softly smiled; he could hear the genuine tone in your voice, and he really appreciated that. 

“I’m not sure. I’ll have an appointment, maybe, three or four times a month? But the restaurant brings in more money, especially the tips,” he explained. 

You nodded. “Well, for what it’s worth, you’re extremely talented, and one day, you’ll be at the place you want to be. Everything will work out.” Harry smiled in appreciation of your words, not saying anything else. 

Taking another bite of his cookie, he changed the subject. “So, do you miss any of your friends in SF?” 

You raised your brows, not expecting that question, but you answered honestly. “To tell you the truth, I really don’t. A month before moving here,” you began to open up vulnerably; you hadn’t spoken to anyone about this. “I got out of a long relationship—quite toxic, honestly,” you said, looking at him. He had this look on his face that was so comforting, not a word coming out of his mouth, asking for details; it didn’t tell you that he was nosy or pressing you to tell him more. It simply told you that he was there to listen, whenever you were ready to tell him, and you really appreciated that. 

You hadn’t realized how hard it was talking about your past relationship because it had been all bottled up until now.  A deep breath came out of your mouth, and Harry immediately realized that it must’ve been a hard subject to speak about. Unexpected to you, he reached over to grab your hand, holding it gently as his thumb caressed your skin. He hoped he masked his nervousness well, making the smallest physical touch with you when, really, his pulse was hammering against his veins, heart pounding through his chest as his breathing began to feel erratic, but outside he remained cool, calm, and collected as if the touch didn’t drive him insane. 

You tried not letting Harry’s thumb, caressing the back of your hand, affect your ability to speak a coherent sentence, so you continued. “Uh, my ex was cheating on me with someone in our friend group. He told me not to worry about her, but you know how that goes when you hear that phrase. It was with a girl that I used to date—my first relationship, actually. The worst part of it was when I found out, I took him back when he promised he wouldn’t do it again and claimed that he loved me, and then I took him back again, and again and again.” 

Harry inhaled deeply, trying to not let the hand holding yours squeeze tightly so the blood circulation cuts off because he felt angry. He was so mad because how could anyone do that to you? Sweet, kind, and lovely you? 

“When I told him I couldn’t handle it anymore—all the lies, cheating, and betrayal—I broke up with him. Our friend group turned against me, completely ignored me. Now that I think about it, I noticed they started to be cold and rude towards me once they started sneaking around, and I have no clue why because I didn’t do anything to them. Guess they were just covering up for them because everyone knew except me, and I just felt so stupid because I was so clueless to think he ever loved me to forgive him so many times.” 

You started to sniffle as the bad memories that you lived through for the few months of the betrayal started to come up again. You were doing a good job not thinking about it when you started working at the restaurant, and you didn’t plan on telling Harry tonight, but you trusted him to let go of all the agony that you bottled up inside your mind. 

“Hey, come here,” he said, opening his arms up. You gladly rested your head against his shoulders, wishing the middle console wasn’t there so you could press your body against his. He hands rubbed your back just as it did when you first hugged him, and to say that you hadn’t been craving for his touch was a complete lie. “You’re not stupid whatsoever. I understand why you did what you did, but that doesn’t make you stupid. It makes them stupid for betraying your trust and forgiveness over and over again. You’re not in the wrong here nor was it your fault, love.” 

You nodded against his shoulder, and you felt him place the side of his face against the top of your head, cuddling up to you, which immediately put a smile on your face. Harry’s comfort had immediately made you feel better—it made you feel safe. You hadn’t felt so comfortable in someone else’s arms in a very long time, and considering that you’ve only known him for a month, you’d say it’s quite unbelievable how comfortable you are in his hold, especially opening up to him like you did. 

Pulling back from his hold, you looked up at him, giving him a smile. The weight on your shoulders suddenly felt lighter once you opened the bottle and poured out the contents in it. Talking to Harry was refreshing, a fresh breath of air, and you inhaled the crisp oxygen gratefully, knowing that being vulnerable and opening up had changed your friendship. 

It was Sunday evening, and you were cleaning up to prepare for closing. It had been a long day, even though you only worked for four hours; it just seemed that you were running around more than usual. 

But you were glad that the day was over, and you could take a long nice shower to end your night. Throughout cleaning, your coworkers had said goodbye, leaving through the back door, which you found odd because everyone usually heads out at the same time, but you didn’t think too much of it. 

Once you were done in the dining room, you looked around, finding the restaurant completely empty, but everything seemed to be in order, so you headed over to the locker room. 

When you rounded around the counter top and into the kitchen, Harry jumped up from his crouched position, startling you as you took a step back, gasping with your hand over your heart. 

“Holy shit, you scared me,” you said breathlessly. 

Harry chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, I thought you still knew I was here.” 

“I thought I was completely alone, and hiding behind the counter doesn’t help.” You and Harry laughed. You hadn’t noticed the two plates of food and wine glasses that were filled with sparkling soda sitting next to him on the stainless steel counter, and you wondered for a moment if that was for you and him. “What’s that for?” 

“For us, if you’d like. I made it quickly once everything was slow and we were starting to close,” he said shyly, rubbing his tattooed forearm. 

Your brows raised, eyes widening slightly. “You made this? For us?”

“Yeah. Today marks one month being here, so I decided to make dinner to celebrate.” You were quite speechless at the thought; it was so incredibly sweet and thoughtful that Harry went through that trouble of making a meal to celebrate a somewhat significant date. Tears started to well up in your eyes, making the man in front of you blurry. “Oh, wait, no. Please don’t cry. You could definitely take this to-go, if you want! I know you’re probably tired, but-”

Harry was cut off by your arms wrapping around his shoulders. He was taken back at first from the impact of your body crashing against his, but once he regained his balance, he immediately wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you tightly. 

Your scent was impeccable—quite alluring for running around for a few hours. He knew he smelled like food, the smoke from garlic and onions sautéing, and vegetables cooking. He buried his head into your shoulder, holding you close. This had been the first time you two were ever hugging outside of the comfort and safety of his car—no middle console to interfere, no awkwardness in trying to figure out how to give a proper hug in a confined space. He enjoyed it a lot—the way your body was pressed up against his. It made him happy, it made him feel safe. 

The intimate moment lasted for a few minutes, simply just hugging one another in relief in the kitchen, swaying slightly as complete silence surrounded the two of you. 

Once you were satisfied (although you think you would never be satisfied enough if you’re not in his arms), you pulled away, coming face-to-face with him. Your cheeks were slightly damped from the few tears that had fallen out, but weirdly, it gave you a natural and happy glow, and you were feeling exactly that. 

“Harry, thank you so much. This is the sweetest and most thoughtful thing someone has ever done for me.” You looked up at him through your wet lashes, warmly smiling at him. 

“You’re welcome. Shall we eat?” You nodded, and he unwrapped his arms from around your waist, letting you go, which he wished he hadn’t. He grabbed the two heavy plates that were filled with honey garlic chicken with sautéed spinach and mushroom on a bed of rice, and you grabbed the glasses, reaching over to place them onto the countertop before the two of you walked around to sit on the high stools. 

The two of you ate in comfortable silence, and you thanked and complimented him for the lovely meal. There was light conversation, asking questions about each other’s childhood. Listening to Harry talk about his life in England was so fascinating to you, and you wished that you had grown up with him because he seemed like such a fun and kind kid to play with. You learned that his sister and mom were back home in London, and they visited every six months, and he would occasionally go back home as well, if the bills weren’t stacking up and he was good with money. His words and mind seemed to get the best of him, slipping out about how much they would love you and that he’ll invite you to lunch whenever they visit to meet them; and he hoped he didn’t freak you out. You simply blushed, nodding your head, and not saying anything else. 

The more you talked to him, the more you found yourself staring at him as you listened to what he had to say. You’d come to terms a few weeks ago that you really liked his eyes—how green they were, and how they stare into you, giving you his full attention. You liked his hands, his hair, his nose, his cheeks, and most of all, you liked his lips. You couldn’t blame alcohol for these thoughts because Harry replaced wine with sparkling soda, so these were completely sober thoughts racing your mind. His lips were something you glanced at often, trying not to glare at them too much as he talked as you didn’t want to get caught for admiring them. They were so pink, and he occasionally bit them and curled them into his mouth, making them pinker. You liked when he would take his fingers and pinch his bottom lip, a habit that he seemed to form throughout his life. You suddenly wanted to kiss him—really, really bad. 

You shook off the thought immediately, being completely sidetracked with your infatuation with Harry. Was it an infatuation? No, you knew the feelings you felt for him felt much stronger than a simple admiration for your coworker. 

Once the talking had died down and the plates were empty, you and Harry decided to clean up. You quickly took both of your plates, beating Harry to the sink to wash the dishes. He chuckled as he watched you fast walk towards the sink; he soon followed with the glasses, placing them carefully into the sink. He decided to dry the dishes, finding the dish rag on your right side. So, he leaned over, placing his left hand on your waist, chest slightly pressed against your back as he grabbed the rag. You turned your head to the right, dropping your shoulder to turn more of your body towards him. He was close and it made you feel flushed; you felt your  cheeks heating up once he looked down at you, faces inches away from each other. 

You turned back around, quickly placing the last dish on the counter before you turned off the water. Harry was still close in proximity, not making any effort to move away from you. Turning around, your back was now pressed up against the edge of the sink. Harry rested his hands against the edge, trapping you with his arms. Your breath began to deepen, heart beating quite harshly against your chest as Harry looked into your eyes, briefly glancing at your lips, and slowly trailing them back up into your eyes. He brought one hand to graze the side of your face gently, skin prickling with goosebumps. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he complimented honestly. 

“Thank you, you are too.” 

“I mean it. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met. Listen, I-I really like you, and we haven’t known each other for long but I just…can’t get enough of you,” You smiled, averting your eyes to his lips before looking back up; your cheeks and neck felt incredibly warm from his confession. Bodily, you placed your hands on his waist, pulling him towards you to close the gap between you two; Harry smirked at your action, liking the way your bodies were pressed up against each other. 

“Are you gonna do anything about it?” You raised your brows curiously. 

“What would you like me to do?” His hands were rubbing up and down your back soothingly. 

“Hmm…a few things actually,” you muttered—more to yourself but Harry definitely heard from how close you two physically were. Your fingertips were mindlessly drawing circles on his lower back where his slightly wrinkled white shirt was tucked into his black jeans. 

“Care to share?” 

You took a deep breath, looking him in the eyes that captivated you quite clearly. “Want you to kiss me.” 

The corner of his lip turned up as he curled his lips into his mouth. “Can I please? Been wanting to for so long.” 

“Tell me.” Harry raised his brows. “Tell me how long you’ve been wanting to kiss me.” 

He curled his lips into his mouth, looking down at your soft lips before back up at your eyes. “Ever since I saw you for the first time. So, please let me kiss you. Do you want me to?” 

Harry quite literally took your breath away, breath stuck in your throat before you cleared it. Nodding your head quite eagerly, you softly said, “Yeah, want you to.” 

With that, he trailed his hands from your waist, up your spine, to your shoulders, and up to your face where he placed his hands on both sides, gently holding your face delicately as if it were a piece of art that was crafted for months, years; he didn’t want to drop or break the precious masterpiece that he cradled with his hands. 

His thumb caressed your soft cheek, giving your lips one last look before he leaned in and connected your lips with his. You sighed deeply once you felt his soft lips touch yours, and your shoulder visibly relaxed, letting go of everyone that may have held you back. 

You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, pulling him in closer. A spark ran through your body as your lips molded together so perfectly in sync, making the firework inside of you pop into a beautiful and magical scene. 

Whimpering against his mouth, you suddenly wanted more of him; he was, in all ways, addicting. You unconsciously lifted your right leg, bringing it up to his hip, making Harry press himself against your core, holding your thigh. He started to feel himself harden inside of his pants from the way you’re kissing him, the way your hands gripped his hair, and the way your tongue effortlessly swiveled against his. 

You pulled away from his lips quite breathlessly, lips swollen. “Want you.” 

“Me too—want you so bad.” He leaned forward to kiss you again, and once he did, you pulled away, only leaving him with a small kiss to his lips. Harry pouted, making you chuckle. 

“That was the best kiss I’ve ever had,” you confessed. 

Harry smirked. “Well, I’ll be glad to do it again.” 

“Wanna get out of here? C-Can we go to yours?” You asked shyly. 

“Yeah?” You nodded. “You sure?” 

“Absolutely positive.” 

Harry gave you a smile and another kiss before he backed away, grabbing your hand to lead you to the locker room where the two of you grabbed your belongings from your lockers. Quickly after, you two were out the door of Spring; Harry locked up, and walked you two over to his car where he, yet again, opened the passenger door for you. 

The entire ten minute drive to his apartment, his hand never left yours. It delicately sat on your thigh with your hand on top of his, palm against the back of his hand as your fingers intertwined with his. Harry found it difficult to drive properly because all he ever wanted to do was either kiss you or look at you, and since it was just a bit after midnight, he hit all the green lights, so there was continuous driving and less kissing and looking. But that just made it quicker for him to get to his place. 

His apartment was on the second floor, which didn’t take long to get to, but catching up to Harry’s long strides as he practically dragged you up the stairs—no patience to wait for the elevator—was tiring you out. 

Once his front door closed, he immediately pushed you up against it, cradling your face in his hands as he kissed you feverishly. You practically could feel him smiling into the kiss, happy to have his lips on yours, and it completely tied your stomach into knots as the familiar flutter you felt in your chest made itself present. 

You’d come to realize, in the kitchen, that kissing Harry was everything you ever imagined. His soft lips molding and connecting with yours so perfectly made all of your dreams and realities come true. He just had a way with how he worked his lips as well as where to put his hands. But you were eager to find out what else he could do. 

Harry was the one to pull away first, which he even surprised himself with, but he led you to his bedroom, which you were too excited about. He closed his bedroom door, taking your lips in with his again, backing you up against his bed as he gently placed you on top of it, hovering over you. 

His lips trailed to your cheek, your jaw, and down to your neck where he lightly nibbled and sucked on your soft skin. You felt him lick your skin, soothing out the small love bite that he left on your skin before he pulled his head from your neck. 

“You sure you want to do this? I’d be happy just kissing you.” 

You smiled. “I’m sure, wanna touch you. You’re sure too?” You asked consent from him as well, making his cock twitch in his pants. 

“Very sure, love. You have no idea.” He sat on his knees as you laid below him, and he’s sure he’s never seen someone look so beautiful as you do; he was completely enthralled by your beauty. “Can I take this off?” He referred to your shirt, playing with the buttons on the front. You nodded, biting your lip. 

He leaned his weight on one side of you, placing one arm behind your head as you rested against it. He took your mouth in with his as his other hand began unbuttoning your white shirt, impressively with one hand. Once he got to the bottom, he sat up again, as did you to take off your shirt and your sports bra. You didn’t wear anything sexy to work because you wanted to be comfortable while waiting tables. 

Harry looked at your bare torso, licking his lips before he wrapped his lips around your nipple, sucking and licking the pebbled bud before switching to the other. His lips then placed small kisses down your body and to the hem of your pants, where he looked up to see you flushed from just his kisses. 

“Harry…” you whined. 

“What is it, beautiful?” He smirked. 

“Please, take it off.” 

“I’m getting there, love, don’t worry.” A breathy chuckle came out of his mouth before he unbuttoned your trousers. Your hips raised off the bed, and he swiftly took them off, leaving you in your nude seamless underwear. “Fuck, you’re so stunning, Y/N, I swear.” You looked at him and smiled; you were clearly at loss for words because of how Harry was looking at you. He wasn’t looking at you with complete admiration, like he was so lost in his daze of his sight. And that thought made you even more aroused. 

He gave you another kiss to your stomach before taking off your underwear, situating himself in between your legs, lying on his stomach. Harry looked up once more to find you staring at him, eager to watch what he’s about to do; he placed a kiss to your inner thighs, gently nibbling on your flesh, making you squirm. 

“Harry, please. Need to feel you,” you pleaded, brows crinkling. 

“Tell me what you need,” he teased, earning an impatient scoff from you, but Harry chuckled at your frustration. 

“Need your mouth on me. Please, want you to eat me out already.” 

Now, who was he to deny that request? So, that’s what he did—he slowly licked your clit multiple times before licking into your hole, collecting your arousal on his tongue. He used your wetness to lubricate your clit, completely assaulting your sensitive bud. Your back arched as the sensations ran through your body, hands gripping the sheets below you tightly that they practically wrinkled. Harry moaned against your clit, making you buck your hips into his face. 

“Fuck, Harry…” you dragged out, throwing your head back into the pillows. 

For a few minutes, Harry continued devouring your taste, not stopping until you came all over his mouth and you were completely shocked by his will to not stop until you’ve had your orgasm from his tongue. 

He replaced his tongue with his fingers, slowly entering your wet hole as he fingered you. You moaned louder; the tips of his fingers curling up to meet the softness of your upper walls. His unoccupied thumb rubbed your clit in slow circles, something that he noticed you really liked based on your hips thrusting upwards and your hand gripping his hair harder that it felt like you were going to rip out his locks. 

“So pretty, love. So wet for me.” The simplicity of his words had made you feel the familiar bubble in your lower stomach, and you wanted to release it so bad. 

“Harry, I’m gonna…cum,” you groaned out, biting your lips. 

He continued his pace on your clit, but added a tad bit more pressure, causing you to jolt a little. His fingers that were inside of you repeatedly brushed your g-spot, making you close your legs, but Harry pried them open, encouraging you to release. 

“C’mon, baby. Want you—need you to cum for me. Can you do that? Can you give me what I want?” 

“Mhm,” you nodded, mouth ajar as your voice was hitched in your throat. A few more thrust and rubs from his fingers, and you hit your high, releasing around his long fingers as he slowed his movements, riding out your orgasm while praising you for your peak. 

“That’s it. There you go.” One of his hands rubbed your stomach, calming you down while the other hand gently played and cupped your pussy as you unconsciously and slightly thrusted your hips into his hand. 

Once you had relaxed, you opened your eyes; Harry was kissing up your body before he kissed your lips so sweetly. 

“Hmm, you’re so good at that.” He smiled, kissing your neck as he started to rut his hips on your thigh. You felt his hard on through his pants, and you knew that wasn’t comfortable whatsoever. 

“Can I touch you?” You asked. He pulled his head from your neck, facing you as he was about to say it was completely fine if you didn’t, but you spoke up first. “That can’t be comfortable, and I wanna touch you—if you’d let me.” You were looking at him with innocent eyes, even though he knew what you were about to do was going against anything innocent. Plus, the way you were looking at him only made him more aroused.

“Course, let me just get out of these.” He got off the bed, but stayed closed; he was about to unbutton his shirt, but you stopped him quickly, replacing his hands with yours. Harry dropped his arms to his side once your lips were attached to his neck, giving him a small hickey on the underside of his jaw. The feel of just your lips on his skin made him bite his lips as a chill ran through him. You sat on your knees and started unbuttoning his white shirt, and with every button you undid, you gave him a kiss to every bit of his skin that was left exposed until you reached the hem of his pants. 

You looked up at him on all fours, and he watched you press another kiss to his tattooed torso. “Mind if I take these off?” You toyed with the hem of his pants. 

“No, please, don’t mind at all.” You smiled, looking back at his bulge, which outlined through the fabric of his pants. You palmed him, making him hiss through his teeth. He hadn’t felt another person’s touch in so long, so your lips and touch felt overwhelming in the best way. 

You unbuttoned his pants, which he was fast to get out of, leaving him in his black briefs. You positioned yourself to lay flat on your stomach, thankful that Harry’s bed was the perfect height to where you don’t have to strain your neck to suck on him. Kissing down his happy trail, you left a prominent love bite in between his tattooed leaves that were so perfectly inked on his lower abdomen. You then kissed his hard length through his briefs, making Harry breathe heavily. He’s never felt so teased in his life, but you were making it all worth it because nobody had ever made him feel so aroused. 

Finally, your fingers gripped the hem of his briefs and tugged them down so his cock could departure from the strained material. He was big, and you knew that from when he was driving to his place earlier as his cock was pushing against his pants, making you excited and eager. But seeing it right in front of you made you salivate. 

“Holy shit, you’re so big.” All he did was smirk at your words, knowing that fact quite clearly. You grabbed a hold of him as you held his dick upwards before you licked the underside from base to tip. Harry breathed in through his nose once he felt the smallest bit of contact from your mouth. 

Your mouth began to work on his tip, sucking and licking up the precum that had spilled out of his tip before you started to take more and more of him in your mouth. It was Harry’s turn to fill the room with his raspy and deep moan, and the noise he was making was triggering your arousal. Harry had a full view of your mouth on him as well as a great view of your entire backside, not missing the way he noticed how you started to subtly move your hips into the sheets. 

As you sucked on him, taking him further into your mouth, Harry dragged his fingers from your shoulders, down your spine, and to your ass that was out in the open with no shame whatsoever. His hands kneaded your flesh before slapping on cheek, which made you moan around him. 

“Like that?” He went back to his standing position, leaning back a tad bit to get a good look at you. “Tell me, do you like that?” You looked up at him, making direct eye contact with him as your cheeks hollowed and you sucked hard around him before letting out a ‘mhm.’ Your mouth was working wonders on him while your hand was fondling and playing with his balls, making him throw his head back and accidentally bucking his hips up into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. “Fuck, sorry, baby.” He moved your hair to check up on you, but all you did was place your hands on his ass and pulled him towards you until your nose touched his pubic bone. Harry let out a throaty moan, and your hands pushed and pulled his lower body until he understood what you were doing. 

So, he took control, holding your head steady before he slowly started to thrust into your mouth; the tip of his cock brushed against the back of your throat. There was a string of spit that was dangling from your mouth and connecting to his balls—a sight so filthy but helped him get right on the edge. 

“I’m gonna cum. Love your mouth so much. So beautiful for me, so perfect.” Harry’s hips began to jerk sloppily, indicating that he was close. With just a few more thrusts into your perfect mouth, he spilled down your throat as he stopped thrusting, keeping you halfway on him. A series of curses and your name came from his lips as he shut his eyes. You took every drop that he offered, trying to swallow every bit of content as best as you could, but some of it had spilled out of your mouth due to how much he overfilled your mouth with his cum. 

Harry seemed to be in the middle of calming down from his intense orgasm, so you took the time to clean up. Pulling back, you wiped your mouth and licked your fingers as well as cleaning his cock with your mouth. What you didn’t notice was that Harry was watching you the entire time; he lowered his head, neck straining from looking up too much, and saw you eagerly cleaning and licking every last drop that had fallen from your pretty lips. The sight was enough to make him hard again if he wasn’t too spent. 

He collapsed on his bed next to you, his head was next to your ass, to which he pressed a small kiss to your hip in gratitude. You moved to lay your head on his stomach, looking at him and giving him a small smile. 

“Come here. What are you looking at me like that for?” He reached out for you, and you moved again, resting your elbow next to his head before giving him a kiss. The kiss didn’t deepen any further, just molding your lips with one another as he tasted himself on your tongue. 

“Nothing. You seemed to have enjoyed yourself.” 

“Very much did, thank you. Did you? You could be honest with me.” 

You giggled. “Honestly…I had a really great time. You made me feel really good. The best I’ve felt in a really long time,” you told him honestly, and Harry smiled at that. 

“Do you want to stay the night? I’m always in a cuddly mood after anything sexual—well, I’m always in a cuddly mood, period.” You laughed, nodding your head before kissing his cheek. 

“I’d love to. Can I use your restroom, and do you have a spare toothbrush?” 

Harry nodded, getting off the bed before leading you to his bathroom where he gave you a toothbrush and some of his face wash. He left you to do your business and told you that he would have a change of clothes. 

Once you were done, you walked out of his bathroom, still naked, and was met with Harry in a pair of gray briefs and a change of his clothes in his hands, handing them to you. He gave you a kiss to your forehead before going off to the bathroom and leaving you to change. 

You replayed the evening in your mind over and over again as you changed—you really enjoyed his company and him as a person. Harry was a more than nice guy, who seemed to like you for whatever reason, and you liked him too. Maybe a bit too much, and you felt like you liked him more than you projected—dare, you say that you were falling in love. But you couldn’t let yourself feel that way; you were beating yourself up for it. In all honesty, you were scared, so you had a habit of not portraying the entirety of your feelings out on the table so people could perceive it. 

Your mind was racing with so many thoughts in your head, repeating and spitting out every insecurity that your previous ‘friends’ had told you in the past—calling you a slut and how you couldn’t keep anyone around because they both ended up cheating on you. Your head was telling you Harry would do the same, and as hard as you were trying to deny that because Harry was the kindest person you’ve ever met, it was all you could hear. You couldn’t do this, no, you couldn’t feel like this, you thought. You felt like you needed to protect yourself before you were in too deep. 

Without even knowing, you were frantically grabbing your clothes and shoes that were all thrown across Harry’s floor. Your heart was racing, mind telling you to ‘leave’ and that ‘nobody is going to love you,’ so that’s what you were doing, leaving. 

You made it out of his bedroom, so close to the front door until you realized you had forgotten your purse. Turning around to go back, you were met with Harry leaning against the frame of the hallway entry, holding your purse in his hands. 

“Not planning on saying goodbye?” His voice sounded defeated, the complete opposite as to what it was prior. He looked down at his feet, not even able to make eye contact with you when he was always keen on making direct eye contact when talking to someone, but seeing you walk out his bedroom door when you were supposed to be waiting for him in his bed to cuddle was heartbreaking. 

“Harry…”

“That’s all it was to you, I’m guessing? You know you could’ve said no to staying the night, I would’ve understood. But to say yes after we’ve been intimate, and getting my hopes up? I-I thought you liked me, that’s all, and I’m stupid for falling for it,” he ended with a scoff. He felt extremely vulnerable; he laid his feelings out on the table, let you see his body, and it seemed like you just picked and chose your cards straight from the deck to only have Harry fold. 

“No, that’s not it-”

“Then please tell me what it is before I drive myself into the wall thinking what I’ve done wrong!” He raised his voice—not too loud where it startled you, but enough to where he simply let out his frustrations. 

“I like you, Harry, I do. But we can’t be together.” You didn’t know how to put it into words, so that was the best you could come up with. 

“And why’s that?” He furrowed his brows, walking towards you, but keeping a safe distance. “Give me a good reason why, and I’ll let you go—I’ll leave you alone. We’ll simply be coworkers who don’t talk to each other. I’ll-”

“I’m scared, okay! I’m scared because I cannot fall in love with you, even though I’m already in too deep. I’ve done it once and i-it hurt me.” You were on the verge of bawling, maintaining your emotions. “I-I cannot feel this way so soon—fresh out of a relationship…I’ve only known you for, what? A month? We barely even know each other, Harry-”

“See, now, that’s where you’re wrong. You think I don’t know you, but I bet that you know I know you quite well. Probably more than all of your bitchy friends back home who you’ve known for years.” You stayed silent, not knowing how to respond, but he was right, he did know you better than anyone you knew back in SF. “If I didn’t know you then I wouldn’t know that your favorite thing to eat while you were growing up was chocolate croissants. Your favorite color often switches every few days, but some of them are, and specifically: maroon, evergreen, mustard yellow, burnt orange, and beige. You love watching kids cooking competitions in your free time and often root for the one who is doing miserably and knows who won’t make it to the next round. You’re learning how to bake, which is what you said that you’ve always wanted to learn out to make proper pastries, and based on what you bring to work for us to try, you’re on the right path to being a baker.” 

“I’m…” you were at a loss for words, tears lining your eyes. All of the questions and playful conversation you and Harry had during work had come around in his words; it showed that Harry really listened, and when he did, he didn’t forget every detail you’ve told him. Your heart felt like it was in your stomach, making your stomach flutter in giddiness and shock. 

“I could go on, honestly, but it would be an entire list of things that I’ve remembered about you.” Harry softly smiled down at his feet. “All I’m saying is this: I like to think I know the basics of you, and I still have a lot to learn about you. But don’t run away from me, please. If you want to and you don’t want anything to do with me, that’s fine, but I can’t let you walk out without trying not to stop you.” He sighed, completely putting himself out there as he was practically begging you to stay. “I really like you, Y/N, I mean it. I don’t care if we’ve only known each other for a month. I don’t care that you just got out of a relationship. I mean if you’re still in love with him or have a bit of interest in him still, then that’s different-”

“I don’t,” you interrupted, shaking your head no. It was the truth; you hadn’t felt love for your ex in a really long time, and you simply stayed with him and kept forgiving him just because it was comfortable. 

“Okay…” 

“It’s just…I don’t want people to think I’m some kind of person who moves on from relationships so quickly. I-I mean, I didn’t come here just to find myself in another relationship, y’know?” Your tone was concerning, like all of your worries were piling up into one big stack that made your head hurt from thinking too much. 

“No one’s gonna think that—I don’t think that. Besides, it isn’t any of their business.” Harry walked even closer to you, inches away as his hands grazed your upper arms. “Let me ask you something, does this feel right? Being with me?” You nodded with no hesitation. “Say it,” he instructed, wanting to hear the words come out of your mouth. 

“This feels right.” 

Harry smiled at you comfortingly. “Okay, then let it be right.” 

“I’m scared,” you admitted, looking down. He lifted your chin up with the soft touch of his fingertips, goosebumps littered your skin with just his simple touch. 

“Me too, but I’m doing surprisingly well at hiding it. We’ll go slow, okay? No pressure into labeling; let’s just go with the flow, alright?” He suggested, and you softly muttered an ‘okay,’ reaching up to wrap your arms around his shoulders, giving him a warm and grateful hug. 

“I’m so sorry-” you said into his shoulder, but he quickly cut you off. 

“No need to be sorry, I understand.” His understanding makes you even more soft as you hugged him tighter; a few tears slipped your eyes, streaming down Harry’s shoulder. 

After a moment, the two of you pulled away, feeling so much relief from the hug and conversation. 

“Is your offer on staying the night still up?” You asked hesitantly.

He smiled. “Yeah, it always is. C’mon.” He took you by the hand, leading you to his room and into his bed—not for the actions of pleasure, but for a nice and comforting cuddle. 

You situated yourself on his chest, comfortably trailing your fingers up and down his skin as his arm was wrapped around your shoulder. 

Lifting your head up to meet his face, he smiled at you before you gave him a sweet kiss to his lips. It didn’t lead to anything, it didn’t even deepen; just the feel of his soft, pink lips on yours was enough to make you feel bliss. 

You pulled away. “Slow?” Harry chuckled, nodding his head. 

“Slow.” 

Your face warmed up as you smiled, cheeks aching; you positioned yourself back onto his chest for the night, taking up all of his space on the bed when your side was completely empty as you held him close. Even though you’ve only known him for a month, you felt yourself falling; because ultimately, it felt right. 

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