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#Harry in Latin America always hits so different…so good
boundtobreakk · 1 year
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Harry in a tank top walking around with a Corona…😮‍💨
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gurugirl · 11 months
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A Balancing Act | Ch. 2*
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Series Summary: Harry is a famous, rich, handsome, pop star and he’s been in therapy since his boy band days. When he meets Y/n, a beautiful and successful artist, he cannot take no for an answer when it comes to her. He’s determined to make her his even if he has to bend the rules a little at first.
Chapter Summary: Y/n learns that Harry kissed another woman and decides to move on. Harry crashes Y/n's date to get her to change her mind. But then he makes a shocking discovery.
Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, smut (oral sex sort of), angst
Word Count: 9,739
Commissioned by @cinnamonone (thank you!! xoxo)
A Balancing Act Masterlist
Returning to LA after his tour in Latin America, Harry was sitting with Pat in his lovely house. Matcha tea was served and she started off by asking him how he was feeling emotionally lately. She tended to want to start off their sessions by letting him talk about his emotions and how he was dealing with his busy life, reserving the topic of relationships and love until toward the end. It gave her a good gauge of his overall well-being.
“I miss home. It’s always the hardest when I feel like I’m missing out on so much. Feels like I’m ignoring what’s really important in life and focusing too much on myself. Feels selfish. I know that no one thinks that. My mum is always telling me to not worry but it’s just hard. Especially because I’m closing in on 30 and just feels like I’ve just been playing around for all my life.”
“But this is your work. And you do work hard. You’re just lucky that you’re talented enough that you can delve into this kind of creativity and make a living from it. You’re putting more responsibility on yourself than is necessary. You’re on your own path, Harry. And while from the outside everything looks fun and glamorous, even you know the truth because you live it. It’s hard. So don’t discount yourself by feeling like you’re not doing enough. Your mom is okay. She can take care of herself. Gemma is okay too. She’s doing well. Your friends and all the people that matter in your life support you. Comparing yourself to the 9-5 worker isn’t going to do you any good. You’re a successful artist. An entrepreneur. Just imagine if you weren’t. You’d be in Manchester or London and working some mundane job. Sure you’d be around your family but you wouldn’t be thriving like you are now. I think you’d be miserable and if you’re miserable your family will feel that.”
Harry nodded, “Probably. I guess I can’t imagine myself doing anything else.”
“I can’t either. But it’s more about how you’re dealing with that guilt. I think as you’re getting older your priorities are shifting a little. And that’s okay. It’s good to welcome new awareness. Just be sure to not dwell on it because no one else is.”
Harry sniffed a laugh and smiled. Pat was right of course. He knew all of this. They’d been talking about his guilt a lot more recently and he recognized it was more because there were particular milestones that society set for people. And Harry had met many milestones but the basic ones like love, family, stability, children were all things he’d had yet to really achieve. Of course, he had a family but not his own, with a spouse and kids and a little house in town… but that wasn’t his to have yet. And the little house in town might wind up looking more like a bunch of houses in different parts of the world. He couldn’t deny he was lucky but he also couldn’t ignore that he felt like he’d been shirking his adult responsibilities.
“Okay. I can tell you need to say something. Want to move on from this subject?”
Harry grinned and repositioned himself to face more squarely toward Pat, “I met someone.”
“Oh? What does that mean?”
“I met her in Chicago. She was staying at the hotel I was in but she was there for an art show, she’s this really talented artist. But anyway… we just hit it off. We’ve been talking on the phone almost every night. I really like her.”
Pat nodded and placed her mug down, “That’s great. So, she stayed at the hotel you were in but how did you come to actually meet her?”
Harry described the scene at the bar and then how he invited her to his show the following evening, “I just… I don’t know. She’s not famous or anything but she acted like I was just a normal guy. And we really connected mentally and physically. She really seems to like all the things I like.”
“You mean, in bed? Or have you really gotten to know her on a deeper level?” She smirked and tilted her head. Harry was like this. He could connect with all kinds of people and it made his heart swell and lurch and then as fast as it filled up it all deflated just as quickly.
“Well, not just in bed. But yeah. We just clicked.”
“Look, I think that’s great. Just remember, you are okay as a single man too. Correct? You don’t need to be loved all the time. You are enough. You don’t have to fall in love and get married and have children to be a whole person. Society says you need that but you get to choose your path. But if you really like, this, uh… what’s her name?”
“Y/n. Even her name is pretty.”
“Y/n. Well, if you like her enough just take your time. Get to know her. Long distance is hard and phone calls are good but no substitute for face-to-face time. Do you think she’s as serious about this as you are?”
Harry shrugged and pursed his lips to the side, “I think so. I mean… we’ve talked about a lot and she’s told me so many things about herself. I guess I haven’t asked her to make it official, though.”
“Probably wise to wait to make it official. Jumping into a serious relationship could backfire as you well know. And there is the matter that you’re on the road so often. Did you see anyone else while you were away?”
Harry shook his head, “No. I actually really like Y/n. Didn’t want to do anything to fuck that up.”
Pat sighed, “You do realize you were supposedly spotted leaving a party with a woman people claimed you were kissing. Right? Just a couple of weeks ago. Which would have been after your Chicago shows.”
Harry groaned and nodded. He did know. His PR team told him about the supposed fan sighting and there was even a photo of him with a woman. Who he did kiss, but it wasn’t a kiss that meant anything. It was just a bit of fun and Harry had had a good amount of tequila. He honestly was just flirting and wanted to kiss the woman. But of course, when she wanted to take things further he declined because Y/n had been on his mind.
That was one thing about Harry. He was flirty and he’d kiss people he never intended on sleeping with. He kissed men and women and flirted all the time but usually, it was more friendly than sexual. Sometimes people got the wrong idea but that was just how Harry was. He loved getting close to people and touching. Loved hugs and kisses especially if he knew the person.
Even when he was with his last ex she’d gotten used to him kissing others and holding hands with someone else. But it wasn’t always very well received. Like the time she left one of the parties they were at early because she was tired and then he was filmed making out with a friend on a couch in front of people. He had a lot of explaining to do for that one. She forgave him but it hurt her. She cried. Harry felt bad that he’d done it. He loved how it felt to kiss someone and have them kiss him back, the zip of excitement and the tiniest bit of tension.
“Yes. I’m aware. I don’t know that she’s heard anything just yet. I think the photo only got published like yesterday or day before.”
“Well, it’s probably a good idea to talk to her about it before she sees the photo and reads the salacious headlines. That is if you’re interested in still seeing her.”
He nodded and looked down at his lap.
“Now, let’s talk about how you’re doing with all your new endeavors coming up. The timelines and the travel that will entail.”
.           .           .
Y/n was usually late with getting news or updates on celebrities. She spent a lot of her time painting during the day so unless she took a break and used her free time to peruse social media sites she might not realize things like the fact that the man she was beginning to develop feelings for had kissed another woman while he was away in another country.
Just as on this day. She was blissfully unaware of what he’d done as of yet. That is until Kat, her best friend, called in the middle of her glazing a painting she’d just completed.
She hadn’t told anyone about Harry except for Kat. Kat would keep her mouth shut about everything. Y/n knew she could trust her friend with her new secret. Not that Harry told her to not tell anyone but he did mention it would be better if very few people knew.
“Hello?” She spoke into the receiver as she capped the glaze and wiped her hands on her bibs.
“Hey babe. Did you see the link I sent you?”
“Uh… no. I’ve been working on a piece all morning.”
“Put me on speaker. Take a look.”
Y/n clicked the sound to the speaker and opened up her texts to see the link from Kat.
The moment the Daily Mail website came up with a blurry, dark photo of Harry standing very close to a woman she felt her heart drop.
Reading the caption of the article:
STYLES SPOTTED KISSING MYSTERY WOMAN IN COLOMBIA
“Are you seeing it?” Kat asked.
“Yeah. I am.”
The article mentioned him leaving with the woman after a party and Y/n put the phone back to her ear, not wanting to read more in that moment, “Thank you, Kat. I’m glad you showed me.”
“Of course. I mean… it’s Daily Mail so it might not be anything, but I just wanted you to have that info just in case. You know?”
Y/n nodded and swallowed the lump in her throat, “Yeah. I know. I’m gonna go, though. I need to finish my canvas. But I’ll call you later, okay?”
Letting out a shaky breath she sat down so she could read the whole article, line by line. Obsess over the information and then google to find more websites and gossip pages, supposed first-hand accounts, unnamed sources talking about how he’s been seeing her for a while and he’s excited, other blurry photos of him at the party drinking…
She shook her head and stood up, locking her phone and putting it down on the table near the bottle of glaze. She looked over her canvas and figured she could take a break. It would be good for her to get out and take a walk. Clear her mind and figure out what she wanted to do.
Her walk resulted in her only dwelling on everything. He hadn’t called her in a couple of days but she knew he was traveling back to LA. She felt like he’d probably needed the rest from all the shows, the jetlag, time zone changes… but perhaps it was because he was seeing someone else now.
And that was certainly possible. They didn’t know one another all that well. She hadn’t even told him the whole story about her husband yet. About what had happened to him. And there had been no commitment made. They had sex in his hotel room. A few times. And it was really good. She felt they had a unique connection. Her feelings for him grew a little more quickly than was wise probably and the Facetime calls with all the revelations of things from their past and what they wanted in the future felt like she was talking to someone whom she could see herself with. He’d also given her his personal cellphone number which she knew was sort of a big deal.
But of course, that was ridiculous. This was Harry Styles and even if he did like her (which she was sure he liked her on some level) that didn’t mean they’d end up together. He could choose anyone. It certainly wouldn’t be her.
Later that night as she snacked on dill pickles and popcorn she fell into the hole of the search engine on her laptop.
The night Harry was supposedly seen with the woman was a night he hadn’t called her (she checked her call log). He didn’t call her every night, but it was still noted. Then she found another “source” saying Harry was happier than he’d ever been and that the Colombian woman was spotted in LA with him.
He hadn’t called her again that night either. Closing her laptop she figured it was over. She wouldn’t be calling him to find out what was going on. He didn’t owe her anything and it would look weird and stalkery to be asking him about the other woman. As if she had any claim on him.
Opening up her DMs on Instagram she decided to check back in on Dante. He’d messaged her all that time ago and she’d left him on read once Harry came into the picture. Maybe it was time to find someone closer to being in her own league.
.           .           .
Harry had a little time off and he caught up on much-needed sleep and getting back into a normal routine. He’d planned on calling Y/n that night. He’d been back in LA for a few days and felt like he was back in the right time zone finally. But he wondered why he hadn’t heard from her at all either. Normally she’d send off a little text during the day. A meme or something that would make him laugh. But it was silence from her for almost five whole days. Not that he’d reached out either but still…
He wondered what she was doing. It was a Saturday night and when he realized she was two hours ahead of him he figured he might as well give her a ring to see how she was. It was nearly 9pm her time already.
But the call went to voicemail so he left a message, a smile on his face, “Hey you… haven’t heard from you in a few days figured I’d give you a call to see what’s happening. I’ve been back in LA for a bit and I’m all caught up on rest. Give me a call back when you’ve time!”
She didn’t return his call that evening.
The following day Harry checked his messages and texts but he’d still gotten nothing from her and it was already midday (yes, he’d slept in quite late since he was up late writing a new song he couldn’t get out of his head). It was odd.
Shooting off a text message to her he suddenly had a feeling that perhaps she was avoiding him. Perhaps she’d seen the articles about him with someone else. He hoped that wouldn’t deter her from wanting to see him again. Hoped that she’d at least let him explain.
He needed to do something about it if that was the case. He couldn’t let her slip away without even having had the chance to see where it could go.
.           .           .
She heard the voicemail. In fact, she saw her phone light up with a notification that he was calling her in real time.
But she’d just messaged Dante and they had plans to meet up the following weekend. She’d been lucky that he hadn’t already come to town for the art exhibit. She thought she’d missed her chance when she messaged Dante back and apologized for not responding sooner. But he was polite as ever and they made plans to see one another.
So she was going to move on from Harry. There was unlikely anything good to come of it anyway. She had an amazing night with him and a handful of orgasms she could reminisce on but he was a world-famous pop star and he was single and surely he wanted to play the field for as long as he could. She understood it, but that didn’t make the situation feel any better. Therefore, the only way to get over him and to move on was to stop contact with him and get back out there.
Plus, now that she’d been with a man after her husband she felt like it was time to start dating again. It had been fun with Harry and she could have fun with others too. Maybe she’d sleep around a bit. See what that was like. Sow her wild oats. She’d gotten married so young and had little experience before him… Yeah, it was time to get out and date.
The following day she saw a text from Harry after leaving a meeting with someone who knew an art dealer.
Was just thinking of you. Missed hearing your voice. I’m back in LA now. Call me or text back. 
She sat in her car and locked her phone, putting her head behind her on the headrest. What was he doing? She was kind of confused that he’d called her, left a voicemail, and then today had texted her. She really was trying to just move on. Figured he had too. But she was too curious not to call him. However, she’d keep him waiting until she was at home with a bottle of wine before she reached out. Maybe she’d hear him out. Maybe he wouldn’t bring up the other woman. She wouldn’t be bringing it up unless he did, but he had to know she’d heard about it. Right?
So, she took the long way to her house, stopping to pick up a bottle of wine and Chinese food before getting home.
She drew her curtains and took her clothes off, only wearing her panties and a tank top, and put her hair up in a messy bun on her head (like the real-deal messy buns, not those cute going-out-messy-on-purpose messy buns). Pouring herself a glass of wine and taking a big gulp she looked down at her cell phone as she sat on her couch and re-read his text.
For some reason she was nervous. She wasn’t sure how this conversation would play out but she wanted to find out what the result would be. This could possibly (most definitely) be the end for them. And she’d be okay with that if it were. Bummed, but fine. She still had her date with Dante to look forward to.
She dialed the number and put him on speaker as she leaned back into her couch and covered her face. She didn’t know if he’d pick up or not but she wanted to get this conversation out of the way.
“Hello!” Harry’s voice came over the speaker quickly. He sounded keyed up.
“Hi. It’s Y/n. You called and texted so I wanted to return your call.”
“Oh yeah… well, it’s been a few days. Was wondering how you were. So, yeah… How’ve you been?”
“I’m good. And you?”
Harry paused and noted the way she answered him in a clipped tone, cold. Not her normal friendly disposition.
“I’m well. Is… is everything all right?”
“Sure. Just doing my thing. Is everything all right with you?”
Harry sighed and rubbed his hands over his face, “Yeah. Um… did you read something about me? Is that why you’re upset?”
Y/n laughed and took a sip of her wine. Here we go, she thought to herself.
“Do I sound upset to you, Harry?”
“You actually do. Yes. Look, if you’re pissed about the articles from when I was in Colombia, I just want you to know that all of that is blown out of proportion. Right? So-“
“Oh. Interesting So you’re saying you didn’t make out with a Colombian woman at a party in Bogota?” God, she hated to sound so jealous but he did bring it up first. She cringed as she let her hurt feelings surface, but it was too late to keep her cool like she intended.
Harry sighed loudly, “I just mean that’s all blown out of propor-“
“Yes, you said that. I’m asking if what is being said is true or not.”
“It didn’t mean anything, Y/n. I am a bit of a flirt and I kissed a woman but that was it! I swear. I thought of you the whole time-“
“It’s fine, Harry. You don’t owe me anything. Besides, I’m going on a date next weekend anyway. We’re free to see other people, right? And-“
“A date? Next weekend?”
She laughed, “Yes. A date. Next weekend. It’s not like you and I will get to see one another much anyway. If at all. So there’s no reason to drag this out. We had fun but it’s clearly not something we need to bother ourselves with.”
“Bother… what? I thought we really connected, Y/n. I’m confused. I really like you.”
“But how can you say that when you made out with someone else? I really like you too Harry but you’re seeing other people because you know as well as I do that this, whatever it is between us, was never serious. Right?”
“No. No that’s not true. And I didn’t make out with her! It was like a quick party kiss sort of thing. Damnit! I swear, Y/n. I’m sorry. I had a little too much tequila and I kissed her but I really was thinking about you and she wanted me to come with her to her room but I told her I was seeing someone and that was it! God, I fucked this up didn’t I?”
Y/n sat for a moment. She had to admit she was surprised by all of this. Surprised that he’d contacted her after she didn’t respond the first time, that he seemed upset about possibly having offended her or hurting her, and that he was acting like he really did like her. But she determined that it was best if they parted ways. She realized it would simply be too hard for this to work. And based on the way his fans obsessed over the Colombian woman and were already talking shit about her (when they didn’t even know who it was) she knew she was right. She had to put an end to it before she got her heart broken.
“There was never anything to fuck up, Harry. But, look… let’s be honest here okay? I’m just a regular gal. I’m not your type, not the type that would be able to deal with your fame and all your adoring fans. I had a lot of fun with you and I think you are absolutely amazing. I really do like you but I just can’t see this working. You know?”
Harry shook his head and tried to stay calm. He had to think. He had to make this work. And he needed to not freak out about the fact that she was going on a date. He hated to think of her with anyone else. And yes, he did kiss a woman, but it wasn’t the same thing! Not to him anyway.
“I think you’re wrong. I think it can work. Let me prove it to you. I’ll come see you. Cancel your date next weekend and let me take you out instead.”
Y/n blinked her eyes, taken aback. She was truly shocked that he wanted to see her again and that he wanted to make it work but still…
“Harry…” she sighed, “you can’t expect me to cancel my date. That’s really not fair to me.”
He knew she was right, “Okay. Sorry. I guess I’m overstepping. I just thought we really connected. I was looking forward to seeing you again.”
Pulling her lips into her mouth she sat her glass of wine down. She was looking forward to seeing him again too, until she learned about the kiss. Even if they weren’t serious and even if the kiss meant nothing to him it meant something to her, “Please don’t make this hard. I really did like you, Harry. But it’s obviously not going to work. And that’s okay.”
“No. It’s not okay. I’m coming to see you. You don’t have to cancel your date. I’m not going to boss you around, but I’ll be flying to Chicago on Friday morning. I’m going to prove to you that we have something good here, Y/n. And if you still don’t see that after next weekend then I’ll back off.”
She couldn’t lie and say that she wasn’t beside herself with the idea that he wanted to put in so much effort to see her. And she certainly couldn’t stop him from going to Chicago and she wouldn’t. But she did feel like it was unlikely he’d actually show up.
“I mean… Jesus, Harry.” She shook her head and grinned, her heart pounding, “You’re crazy. I don’t understand why you want to do this. We had a night together-“
“It was more than just a night. Y/n, come on… you know as well as I do that it was more than just that. All the things we talked about on the phone all those nights. Did that mean nothing? I shared so many personal things with you and I know so many things about you too. But I want to know everything. All of you. I might be crazy but I can’t just give up.”
“We’ll see. And I can’t stop you from flying out here but I’m not going to make you any promises either.”
Harry was determined. More than ever. He knew it was special with Y/n. He knew she knew it too. The night he had her in his hotel room was maybe the hottest sex he’d ever had. And of course, hot sex doesn’t necessarily mean that they’re soul mates but the way they connected and were vulnerable with one another was not like anything he’d ever had. Then all their subsequent conversations and things they’d revealed about themselves? No. He wasn’t done and she wasn’t either. He felt it deep down that she wanted him to prove to her that he was serious.
Kissing that woman had been a mistake. And now he was going to prove to her that he was serious. That they could work.
.           .           .
She didn’t know why she told him where she was going to be on her date. She didn’t need to tell him. He could wait to see her until after. She told him as much at first when he called her the moment he landed.
“Where will you be with your date?” He spoke saying the word date like a dirty word.
“Harry… why do you need that information?”
“Because I’m just curious. Maybe I’m looking for restaurant suggestions.”
“I’m sure,” she rolled her eyes to herself, “If I tell you, you better not show up and ruin everything. I kind of like this guy, Harry.”
Harry’s heart fell into his stomach and the smirk on his face faded at that. She liked the guy? She was supposed to only like him.
“I won’t ruin anything. I promise.” He couldn’t actually make that promise. He wouldn’t be held accountable for the methods he used to convince her she was his. That she wanted to be with him only.
.           .           .
The steak house was a typical small-town restaurant that looked cutesy and had a few things on the outside of the building to let you know it was a restaurant but still came off as more of something that looked like a house.
The inside wasn’t much different. The entry into the restaurant started at the bar. Round high-top tables and tall stools scattered along the middle with dining tables with chairs of normal height lined the wall to the right. The bar with various bottles of neatly arranged, half-empty bottles of liquor along the left. Old wood floors, crown molding, high ceilings, an old dusty scent mixed with the smell of stale spilled beer (that smell just doesn’t come out after years of clumsy customers insisting on spilling their ales every night for the past 35 years), food cooking, and meat searing. Beyond the bar was the main dining room with more tables placed around the space and large windows that looked out onto a sizeable terrace with more tables under a large awning.
Harry let his gaze move around the room and walking past the bar he peeked into the main dining room to see if he could spot the woman of his dreams.
“Harry Styles!” A young lady shrieked and as he turned back he saw two other women walking toward him. He knew the look. They were starstruck and hoping for a chance to speak to him and get a photo.
Reluctantly he obliged. Signed a napkin, took a few pictures, and shook their hands with a smile on his face. It tended to be better to just be nice and give them something quickly instead of declining. Sometimes declining or saying he couldn’t resulted in more issues than it was worth.
Not spotting Y/n anywhere either inside or outside he asked the young man stood at the front if there was a reservation under Y/n’s name. He expected that her date would have put it under his name but on the off chance-
“Yes sir. Uh, that reservation for 2 people isn’t for another fifteen minutes. Are you the other party on the reservation?”
Harry grinned and nodded, “Why yes. I am.”
He followed behind the kid to a spot outside on the terrace and ordered a bottle of red wine. He knew he wouldn’t be able to drink the whole thing but figured that once Y/n arrived with her date they could finish it off. He knew that what he was doing was taking it a little too far (maybe a lot too far) but he wanted to properly greet her and get a good look at this date. He’d get up and let them take their seats and then he’d pay the bill of course as an apology for the inconvenience.
Before he’d finished his glass of wine his sight landed on the entry to the terrace where Y/n, a tall man with dark hair (presumably her date), and the young host who seated Harry were walking toward him. There she was. She’d really dressed up too. The low plunge of her dress and the way it hit her hips were mouthwatering. He stood up quickly as he continued to watch her in awe. Her pretty face was set in an unamused frown, “What are you doing Harry?”
Shrugging his shoulders he looked to the guy next to her. He was Harry’s height. Taller even. Annoyingly good-looking in an older, sophisticated yet unbothered kind of way, “I’m Harry,” he jutted his hand out to shake.
The date looked at Y/n and then back to Harry with his hand taking Harry’s in a firm shake, “Yeah, I know who you are. Harry Styles… But why are you sitting at our table?” He asked with a laugh. So she hadn’t told her date about him. Pity.
“Oh, I was just having a sit, drinking a little wine. But I’ll be on my way. Just wanted to make sure my lovely friend here made it safely. Oh! And please! Enjoy the rest of the wine. And I’ve already told them that the tab is on me. So get whatever you like. Go wild.”
The look of anger on Y/n’s face should have deterred Harry from speaking further, but he couldn’t help himself, “And you look… wow. Incredible. You’re stunning, Y/n,” he looked over her frame and then back to her face, “I’ll call you later,” he winked as he turned and sauntered away just as casually as he had mentioned he was paying their bill. As if it were all just a normal occurrence.
Y/n watched the handsome pop star walk away before turning to Dante, “Sorry about that. He was just trying to be funny. Just a friend,” she reassured.
Though, Dante didn’t seem wary of him at all. He was clueless as to what had just happened, “You know Harry Styles?!”
Sitting down and pushing Harry’s nearly empty glass of cabernet to the edge of the table she nodded, “Yeah. Met him a couple of months ago when he was in Chicago for a concert, and I was there for an art show. Just luck.”
She left out the part where he had her in his posh hotel suite one evening and they spent the whole night fucking and talking and laughing. Connecting. And then again in the morning until she had to leave.
Y/n wasn’t sure how to feel about Harry’s little stunt. He seemed like such a genuinely sweet guy that what had just happened felt a little out of character. Though she got some glimpses of his pushy, dominant side in bed, she hadn’t seen any of that persona transfer outside of the bedroom. Not when he first introduced himself, and not in any of their conversations on the phone… But she guessed perhaps there was a part of him that would come out in this way. And she couldn’t lie and say she didn’t enjoy it all deep down.
But still. The nerve of him to sit at the table she and her date would be sharing and drink wine while he waited for them. To look at her the way he had, his eyes blatantly following her shape down to her hips and back up again with that grin… The compliment. And then to have their bill paid for? It was a power move. He was trying to assert dominance over Dante in some way. Even though Dante was annoyingly clueless somehow. She thought for sure he’d be livid about it but he wasn’t.
Dante was a little too nice she decided.
And it’s not like Y/n thought her date should be upset. She didn’t want two men fighting over her or anything. But the part of her that kind of liked what Harry had done, liked that he was trying to stake a claim or send a message- wanted to see what Dante had in him. Wanted maybe just a tiny bit to see him jealous or even insist on paying despite the fact that Harry said he would. Dante didn’t seem threatened at all. She shook her head of those thoughts. How silly for Y/n to even think that he should feel that way. Of course not!
And she couldn’t stop thinking about how good he looked in his suit and his thick dark hair with soft curls as she and her date neared the table he was casually sitting at. The handsome smug look on his face as he watched them. And she tried to refocus and listen as Dante was talking about his recent gallery show but she was now stuck thinking about the night she and the famous man shared together. That was probably part of what he intended as well, showing up like he did. To set the tone for the entire date. He knew what he was doing. And it had worked.
“Excuse me. I need to run to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”
She took a deep breath as she walked into the restaurant and followed the hanging wooden signs that pointed toward the little hallway where the two bathrooms were. A single toilet room each for women and men.
Flicking the light on and clicking the lock she leaned into the door and closed her eyes. She had to give herself a pep talk.
“You’re here with a perfectly nice and handsome man. Same interests, a level head, funny, humble…” and Dante was all those things. But something was missing. Something was holding her back from truly enjoying his company. And she knew just what it was. It was because he wasn’t Harry. And even if Harry hadn’t made his surprise appearance to discombobulate her completely, interrupting her date, she would have still felt the same.
Just as she pushed herself off the door there was a knock, “Sorry! Be right out!”
Y/n washed her hands and dried them before opening the door. But in a shocking split-second, she was met with the handsome smile of the man she couldn’t stop thinking about as he walked into the bathroom, causing her to step herself backward. Harry closed the door and clicked the lock.
“Harry! What are you doing?!”
Harry smirked and leaned his back into the door, “How’s the date going?”
Crossing her arms over her chest she tried to feign annoyance but she was working hard to hide her own grin, “It’s fine. I like Dante. Why are you still here?”
“I figured I’d see if you were free after. I brought some things with me that I think you might enjoy.”
She paused. He brought some things? What did that mean?
“I can’t believe I told you where my date was,” she shook her head and sighed.
“I’m sure you did it because you hoped for this very outcome.”
“Oh come on, Harry. I actually didn’t think you’d even come here this weekend, to be honest.”
Harry stitched his brows together and pushed himself off the door, taking two long-legged strides toward her, and brought his hands up to her face, “Well I am here. And I want you, Y/n. I don’t care that you’re on a fucking date. That should be me sitting out there getting to take you out,” he jabbed a finger in the air toward the door before returning his palm to her cheek.
Her blood pumped quickly through her veins and her head felt fluttery and light as she watched his mouth and then looked at his eyes as he spoke. His hair was fluffy and soft and his hands on her face felt gentle but she knew what they could do. All the very opposite things of gentle that had awakened some kind of indulgent new requirement. She wanted to put up a good fight. Make him work harder. Make him beg a little even. He’d kissed another woman! For god’s sake, she should make him grovel. But he was there. With her. Looking at her like he did that last morning they were together when they were making plans to keep contact until they could see one another again.
She didn’t know how to respond. If she were responding candidly, she’d tell him that yeah, it should be him out there treating her to dinner and not Dante. That she hadn’t been able to get him off her mind and last night, even though she had this date lined up, it was Harry’s image that she orgasmed to when she masturbated. In fact, it had only been Harry she got off to since she’d had that night with him nearly two months ago.
Harry tilted his head and spoke softly, “Please, Y/n. Do you want me to get on my knees? Beg? Or,” a small devious smirk quirked up on his lips as he licked them and ducked in to speak into her ear, his body pressed into hers, “maybe you want this. You like the chase, don’t you? Is that what you want? Trying to play hardball with me, sweet girl?”
She was a goner the moment his lips brushed over the shell of her ear and he brought his hands down from her face to her hips and pulled her in close. A small warm peck to her lobe, “What is it that you want me to do? I’ll do it.”
Y/n drew her hands up his back to his broad shoulders and moaned as she stretched her neck for him, “You shouldn’t be here. I’m in the middle of a date.”
And despite her words, Harry seemed to figure out what it was she needed and he dragged his mouth down to her jaw and then attached his lips to her neck and lightly peppered kisses and warm licks down the sensitive skin until he lowered enough that he’d made it to her clavicle, drawing a needy little gasp from her lips.
He backed away to look down at her and she had her lips parted and eyes closed, which made him smile.
She was his.
“And this dress,” he smoothed his hands down from her hips to the bottom hem of the material that landed just above her knee. He pulled the fabric upward, his warm fingers sliding up and under the stretchy cloth until he met her inner thighs, squeezed together, “Why did you do this? Wearing this for him? Baby this dress should only be for me.”
Her breaths deepened and her body grew hot with his hands on her. This was such a bad idea but she didn’t have it in her to stop him. She wanted him. When she opened her eyes and looked at Harry she licked her lips before speaking, “I hoped you’d see it. But I didn’t really think you’d come.”
Harry’s palms splayed against her thighs and continued to push the material up as he smiled at her with a cocky grin, “Wanted me to see it. So you wanted me to be jealous. To see you wearing this slutty thing on a date with another man while I watched. Suppose I deserve that. But you know you’re leaving here with me. Yeah? That’s what you wanted. Gonna show you what you deserve for teasing like this.”
Y/n let out a small whimper when he pushed her legs apart and kept his eyes on hers. His light green eyes were slowly disappearing under his dark pupils. His lids were droopy, and his lips parted as he finally moved his face to hers and nudged at her nose with his before putting her out of her misery and kissing her in a hot, desperate embrace.
She tried to resist but she’d already been a goner and the way he kissed her melted her senses and stamped out her resolve.
She was his.
Harry’s hands continued their path upward and she knew what he was doing, as far gone and mushy as her brain was, she understood his intentions. So she parted her thighs more for his access and Harry panted against her lips, “You want me to touch? Need a little something before you go back out there on your date?”
She nodded after faltering for a second. Her date… She wasn’t sure she could face him after this. She only knew she wanted Harry.
He pushed his fingers over her silky panties and grinned as he continued kissing her, her back pressed into the wall, “Fuck, baby girl. You need Daddy don’t you?”
She groaned and popped her eyes open, nodding the tiniest bit as she watched him use his hand on her, rubbing over her cloth-covered clit. Harry hissed and looked at her with sultry eyes, “Soaked for me, baby. You don’t want to go back out there to him. You need to be taken care of. Can you wait til we get back to your place or do you need it now?”
Harry was serious. He was going to leave with Y/n. Dante would be fine. His check was covered after all.
Y/n let out a shaky breath. Here or at hers? Her place was half an hour away and she was already vibrating with desire. Harry’s words and soft touches and his presence somehow pulled from her a need that she hadn’t felt in a very long time. One that she was certain Dante couldn’t affect.  
“This is crazy,” she breathed out.
Harry pushed his mouth to hers and moved his fingers down to the drenched crotch of her panties pushing them to the side and he keened at the feel of how slick she was under the pads of his fingers.
“Remember how good it was, Y/n? How you moaned and came over and over again? The way you took me when I fucked you.”
Harry was hard as rock in his trousers. This woman was doing things to him. He hadn’t been so determined about anyone in a very long time.
“Yes,” she whispered when he stroked up and down through her labia and then pressed into the hood of her clit.
“And how good we are together. We work, Y/n. This works. I know you know it.”
He plunged two fingers inside as he kissed her mouth. She opened her legs further for him and rocked her hips forward into his hand.
Y/n realized suddenly where they were and what they were doing when a knock sounded on the door, “Let’s go. I need to tell Dante that I’m leaving first.”
Harry was directed to stay outside at the front of the restaurant while Y/n went to the terrace and broke the news to Dante. She felt awful. She really did. Dante was nice. He was attractive. But he wasn’t her type in the end and she was slick between her thighs as she sat down and winced at the feel. The empty ache. She was flushed and her panties were chilled against her skin where it was wet, a result of just having been fingered in the bathroom. But her body was guiding her. She was aching and wanted Harry in her bedroom. Wanted Harry inside of her again.
It was probably a mistake. She’d probably regret this but she only knew one thing. And that was that Dante would never have a chance. Not when she was fantasizing about Harry on a date with him. That wasn’t fair to him, to string him along. So she justified that it was better this way.
.           .           .
Y/n had fully expected that Harry would have a driver or something. But to her surprise, he rented a car. A really nice car. A Mercedes Benz wagon.
She did kind of wish he had a driver, though, so they could sit in the back and that there was one of those partitions that separated them from view. But as it was, she was sitting in the passenger side as Harry drove her to her house.
It was kind of wild to her that Harry Styles was driving her to her house and that once there, in her small residential bungalow, they’d probably wind up having sex. Certainly, they’d wind up having sex.
“I’m sorry I did it this way,” Harry paused with a smirk on his face, “but not that sorry. Worked out in my favor.”
Y/n breathed out a laugh and shook her head, “Yeah, I guess you got your way. I imagine you’re used to that.”
“Heey! What’s that supposed to mean?” He knew exactly what she meant.
“It just means you’re probably not used to not getting exactly what you want.”
Harry nodded shallowly as he kept his eyes on the road in silence. He was just happy it had worked. He wasn’t sure it would. And yes, he was used to getting what he wanted but he didn’t expect to get everything he wanted. Not all the time anyway.
“My place is pretty small. Two bedrooms. One bathroom. A small backyard. So don’t judge, okay?” She was mostly teasing, feeling quite nervous about what was soon to happen. The state of her home was actually the last thing on her mind.
“Don’t be nervous, love. We’re going to have a great time together.”
Y/n gulped the saliva in her throat and looked ahead toward the road. She knew they’d have a great time together if their last time together was any indicator. In fact, she imagined it might be even better. He was visiting for three days and she had nothing to do other than finish the canvas she’d been working on for the past week. So they’d have a lot of time. To explore and to play. To talk.
She recalled a conversation they had one night over the phone when Harry brought up her pretty, plump bottom, his words still making her blush having never enjoyed anyone calling her plump in any way. But somehow, when Harry said it, it felt sexy. He made her feel sexy. Her curves and her extra bits, her tummy and ass and arms and thighs… they only spent the one night together but he made her feel as if all of her was beautiful.
“Such a pretty, plump bottom like yours… and you’ve never had anal sex before, or anything? My finger was the first to poke inside?” He spoke his words with a smile.
She was already lying down in bed and gently rubbing herself to the sound of his voice and he’d been heavily flirting and suggesting what they’d do together the next time they saw one another.
“No. Have never done anything back there,” she laughed breathily.
“We can change that. I can start by licking your pussy and your ass until you’re so wet and creamy that I can just slip my finger inside your little hole and get you ready for more.”
She moaned lightly at the idea.
He continued, “And once you’re shaking and begging to come I’ll slowly fill you up with my cock so you can finally experience what it’s like.”
Y/n laughed and paused her fingers, “You’d like that wouldn’t you?”
Harry groaned and panted (he was also touching himself), “Oh I would be in heaven to have you any way you wanted. But to be able to be your first experience with that would be amazing. But the question is, Y/n, would you like that?”
She squirmed in the soft black leather seats just thinking about it. She wasn’t sure if he’d want to go that route or not but she figured if he got her loosened up and drippy she probably would very much want that. She felt like he’d make it good. She knew he’d make it good.
Harry noticed the way she shifted and wondered if she was still on edge. He imagined her panties were a mess after what happened in the bathroom. He would have loved to have fucked her then and there but she asked to leave. And he could wait a little longer, though his cock was aching and pushing against the front of his trousers painfully.
Y/n was trying not to eye his crotch. He clearly had an erection. Still. And she knew he was nice and thick and long. Just remembering the way he looked had her thighs clenching together. Yes, she was still very wet in her panties, and knowing that soon he’d be using that thing on her gave her an idea.
She reached her hand over and put her palm on his upper thigh over his pants and Harry quickly glanced down before putting his eyes back on the road. He swallowed thickly. He liked where this was going.
“Gonna help me out a little?”
Y/n smirked and looked up at him as she unbuckled her seatbelt, “Do you want me to?”
Harry scoffed and shot his eyes at her quickly, “Is that a serious question?”
Biting her lip she positioned herself to lean over the leather console and began to undo the leather belt he had on. Harry adjusted his seating and pressed the seat back button to lean back a little to give her more room as she unbuttoned his pants. He parted his lips and let out a labored breath when he felt her palm over him.
He was so warm under her hand, even with the material of his pants covering him. She continued working on opening his pants up when the seatbelt warning dinged.
Harry groaned and rolled his eyes but she continued, not worried at all about the sound. She wanted to pull him out and play with him a little bit.
The road to her house from the restaurant was mostly along a small highway with no stoplights and very little traffic. Which she liked so she could have him out in her hand and no one would pull up next to them and catch a glimpse of what they were doing. Not to mention it was Harry Styles in the car, that would surely get some attention.
When she finally dragged his underwear down enough that she could grasp around him he moaned softly. She loved how he felt in her hand, the way he looked. She pulled from the base of his shaft upward, rolling his foreskin over his frenulum and back down. He was hard and his tip was pink and pretty like his lips.
The ding of the seatbelt warning chimed again as she leaned further over and moved her lips to right above his erect cock. Harry moved his arm away to give her space, before putting his hand on the back of her head. Her hair fell over the exposed skin at the base of his cock before he felt her lick gently over his slit and stroked him slowly as Harry drove down the road toward her home.
It was difficult to put him into her mouth with the console in between them but she had been able to put his tip in past her lips and lick all around him, lapping at his precome as she continued moving her hand in gentle strokes at his shaft.
Harry was panting shallowly and his stomach muscles were contracting. It felt so good to have her mouth and her hand on him. He wished he could look down to see her sucking him off but he had to keep an eye on the road, and with her seatbelt undone (thanks to the reminder every two minutes from the warning chime) he didn’t want to chance anything.
Y/n moaned around his slit and Harry choked out his words, “Fuck, baby. We’re almost there. Gonna give it to you so good when we get to your place.”
And she knew he would too. She wasn’t very experienced. She’d slept with two men before she got married but of all the men who’d fucked her, Harry was far and away the best at it.
Harry pulled into her small driveway, directly behind her Toyota Camry. Tucking himself back into his pants as she adjusted her dress before getting out of his car and plucking her keys from her purse.
“Did he pick you up here at your house?” He pointed toward her car in the driveway. He deduced that if her vehicle was there the date must have come to her home to pick her up.
Y/n paused and it took her a moment to understand what he meant but the realization dawned on her, “Yes. He did.”
Harry nodded, “So he knows where you live? Did you invite him in?”
Sighing she shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. Was he really doing this now? “Yes. He came in, stood in the doorway, and looked around while I grabbed my purse. That was it.”
Harry was standing over her with a small frown, “Were you planning on sleeping with him? After the dinner?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. What is this, Harry?” She pulled her arms upward before dropping them at her sides in frustration, the keys to her house jangling as she did so.
Putting his hands on her upper arms he slowly rubbed upward, “This is just me wondering what you were up to is all. It’s a good thing I got there in time to stop anything from happening.”
A scoff fell from her lips as she looked up at him, stunned, “No. This is you being jealous.”
Harry shook his head with a cocky grin and brought his left hand up to her neck and pulled her into his chest, “I’d be jealous if you left with him. But he’s nowhere to be seen now is he?”
She felt the small squeeze on her neck as he pushed her bottom gently to the front of his car, his hips connected to hers so she could feel him, “S’just you and me here, though. Isn’t it? You’re wet for me. Not for him,” his soft, warm mouth was suddenly pasted over her jaw and she gasped. It was hard for her head to fight its way out of the labyrinth of mush that he seemed to be so good at leading her into. But he knew that. He loved the way she responded to him.
Harry chuckled, his laugh vibrating off her neck as he tenderly kissed the edge of her parted lips before backing away and grasping her hand to pull her to her front door, “Let’s get inside then. Can’t fuck you out here on the hood of the car for all to see can I?”
Everything was rushed and desperate in her brain. She was shaky putting her key into her door to unlock with Harry right behind her, his hands at her hips, his lips on her neck.
The moment the door was closed and locked Harry pulled her into his arms and kissed her again. It was hot and frantic. They were both on edge and very much in need of release. Together. Even though he acted as if he had it totally together and he was in charge, he was feeling desperate too with the way his tip was leaky and his cock throbbed in his pants.
“It’s this way,” she panted breathlessly as she pulled his hand to bring him toward her bedroom.
But Harry paused when he saw a large, framed photo hung on the wall. It was of Y/n with a man. Kissing a man. She was wearing a beautiful wedding dress and the man was in a tuxedo with the backdrop of a lovely garden and flowers all around.  
“Is… this you?”
Y/n was halted when she whipped her head to look at what he’d seen. She realized instantly what he meant.
“Um. Yes.”
“Are you… married?”
Y/n sighed and let go of Harry’s hand.
Talk about a mood killer.
Chapter 3
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iwannaholdyoutight- · 4 years
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SUNLIGHT
Summary: Welcome to Mattina ed Estasi, an art gallery dedicated to show the art of seduction. This story is dedicated to the discover of true sex.
A/n: each day has a painting, please click on the link, likes and reblogged are love and if you come talk to me about it: I’ll love you forever. Please read end notes, it’s important
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Find the Pinterest page for this fic HERE
Somewhere in Italy, 1978…..
Day 1: Mattina ed Estasi https://www.saatchiart.com/art/Painting-Extasy/300907/4211239/view
Lavignia was going to have a syncope. She was sure of it. It was hot, hotter than any other summer she has ever lived in her 25 years of life upon this earth. Her pink loose dress was sticking like glue because of the heat and she was late for her first day at the new job.
Fucking amazing, right?
The bus was late and then she got lost because she should have turned right but she took a left and her Italian isn’t amazing enough to understand what the old lady was trying to explain her, she was speaking too fast and Lav was far too nervous to concentrate. 
But finally she saw the brick walls built in an elegant way. She saw the big stained glass with the mermaid. She had finally found Mattina ed Estasi, or “morning and ecstasy” in English. This is going to be her new job - new home- for at least the next 18 months (that was what the contract said, at least). 
Having graduated just a year ago from the University of Coimbrã with a major in arts and communication, Lavignia found herself without a job and without the possibility of asking for her folks to help since they didn’t want her to go to college at all (she had one job and that was to marry well…. and that’s clearly not what she did). 
But a friend of a friend told her one night about this gallery in Italy that needed someone to work there. This person had to speak English, to communicate with all of the tourist and had to know a lot about art. 
Thank god she knew both. 
Packing her bags, she dished her job at the bar and went to Italy on the morning train all the way from France. With all of her articles about art and the hope of a brand new start. 
Taking a deep breath she walked through the doors, coming face to face with a tall red head: “you must be Vanessa! Mrs. Lovelace told me you would be here. 
She was nervous, feeling short when standing side by side with this gorgeous woman. Her hair all messy from the wind and heat. But Vanessa, with a freckled face and very blue eyes, opened a smile and refused her hand shake, going for a hug. 
“Hello, Lavignia. Yes, Mrs. Lovelace has told me all about you, she seemed excited, she loved your article about the art movements as protest  against the military coups in Latin-America.” 
“I’m glad. And please, call me Lav” 
“Of course. Ready to begin our training?”
They started to walk around the gallery. An intimate space with golden artificial lights, a crew of men was working with all of the artwork for the new exposition: “Love and Sex”. 
“What do you know about our new work? I just need to know everything you were told so I can help you with the rest” 
“Well, I received a lot of books to study the theme on the last few days. Love and Sex is all about the the raw emotions of the human body, showing how much they are alike but also not so different. One complements the other but at the same time you can have sex without feeling in  love, and you can fall in love and not have sex.” She could feel the embarrassment from talking so much about this subject with someone she barely knows but since it was about art becomes more acceptable. 
“Yes. You are very correct. We are getting pieces from the renaissance era till the new paining by erotic artist Joan Semmel, our biggest conquest of this is actually her painting “Sunlight”, but Harry still has to bring that one”
“Nice. But who is Harry?” 
“Oh, didn’t Mrs. Lovelace told you about the owners of the shop?” 
Lavignia shook her head in a negative but said “only that she was one of them.”
“We have three owners. The first one is Jeannie Lovelace”  the one who interviewed Lavignia just 5 days before. She was around her late sixties, beautiful long silver hair and blue eyes. Very elegant lady always using nice bell pants and white shirts. “Well, first, never call her Mrs. Lovelace to her face, she doesn’t like being treated like she is elite, even if she is. Some people say that on her younger days she had an affair with Duke Elligton, can you imagine?” 
They laughed together, this beautiful old lady must have so much to tell if given the opportunity . 
“Anyway, she was the founding mother of this beautiful gallery. She never got married so her true love is art. She founded this gallery back in 1961 with the money she inherited from her father company back in the U.S”. 
“Nice. There is two others right?” She said while pointing to a board with the story of the gallery “This Harry you just told me about and Jesse right?” 
“Yes. Let me start with the worse: Jesse Fire. Firstly, I’m pretty sure that’s not his real name. He’s this elite lawyer and a jackass with everyone he doesn’t find worthy of his time. He only puts money on this gallery because it’s a good investment and makes him have a “intelectual image” for the tabloids. Don’t worry too much about him but if he ever appears just try to not talk to him, and you’ll be fine. He is on holiday and won’t return for another three months. And he lives in Rome, so even when he’s in the country he comes here only for big openings and our parties. We are all safe.” 
She opened a huge smile 
“Now, let’s talk about the last one: Harry. Do you happen to know H.E Styles?” 
“You mean the erotic poet and composer? The one people are always talking about his sexual escapades and charming ways” 
“That one. Well… that’s Harry. I mean, we all know Harry made his money with art and he likes to spend his money with more art. Shocking, right? He has the biggest collection of sensual masterpieces. From paintings to sculptures and even vintage sex toys: he has it all. Actually this exhibition was his idea. The main pieces will have a poem by him attached to it.” 
“And how many pieces are we hoping for?”
“Around 10. He’s going to write new poems for the main events, inspired by a few of the art pieces and will release a book at the end of everything. And that’s the reason why we still don’t have the painting by Semmel. He is struggling with that one and took home last Friday and promised to bring here today. 
“And it’s not here today” said a raspy slow voice from the back door. He was using a blue chiffon shirt almost completely  unbuttoned with a pair of high waisted white jeans and a glittery boot, with heels that gave him at least 3 inches more. “I am so glad to see my favorite red hair today. It was a tuff weekend” 
He got closer and she could finally see his face: green eyes, beautiful wavy brown hair and a nice crooked smile with dimples just to make it more adorable. And he had a mustache. Lav absolutely hates mustaches, but if it’s this handsome fellow that has one…. she wouldn’t complain. 
“What happened? Couldn’t find inspiration again?” Vanessa said while touching his arm. Of course a guy that hot would go for a girl like Nessa. They looked like a power couple together. 
“First I thought I could get inspiration if I could just stare at the painting. But it didn’t work so I called Daniel and Melissa, maybe with a fun three way party I could feel inspired, wrong. Then yesterday, I thought “maybe I need to see the world with different eyes” so I popped a few acid tablets… didn’t work. So now I’m here, on a Monday morning, asking you PLEASE let me have the painting for a few more days” 
It was too much information for Lav to take, in three days he had done more than she has done her whole life. That made her feel quite uneasy. 
“That depends, Styles… will you borrow your beach house for the summer so I can have my honeymoon with Cathy there?” 
Oh, she has a fiancée, thought Lavignia, how silly could she be, thinking they were a couple. 
“I was already going to offer you this and you know it. But of course, my Calihouse is yours for the time you want it for your honeymoon” he finally locked eyes with the brunette who was feeling like an outsider listening to private conversation: “and who is this Dove? Is she the new curator you and Lovelace were talking about?” 
“Yes, Lavignia this is Harry. Harry this is Lavignia” 
 She gave him an awkward smile. 
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Styles”
She raised her hand to shook his that was already reaching out for her. But, instead of a shake, he took her hand and before giving a kiss he whispered to her hand “please, call me Harry.” He kissed her hand and let her hand go, using the tips of his fingers to caress her arm on the way down from its previous position. 
“She is actually going to create the sequence for the pieces and the artistic and historical explanation of the pieces from the the exhibition”. 
“I thought I was going to write this” 
“Yeah but she has the technical knowledge. So you are going to look at the art, find a meaning behind and she is going to write the explanation for the techniques and whatsoever and to the presentationwould be interesting if you guys worked together” 
That’s when it hit Lavignia: they had 6 days till the opening and absolutely zero idea of what they were going to produce. 
“Wait….. we have six days to plan this whole thing?”  
Harry laughed. 
“Yes, we have done a lot but still, we have a lot do. Right now the focus is to create a storyline to exhibit everything and it has to go well with the main theme. Welcome to our gallery” he said with a smile. “But I’m sure it’s going to be an easy job. Because love and sex are so inherent to the human being” 
That wasn’t going to be an easy job. She didn’t know much about love or sex. 
.
After their conversation, the day was just a blurry memory: checking the pieces, looking for articles and references about each one. Harry would once in a while come and check on Lav, ask her if she wanted anything and sometimes he would just look at her, like he was trying to memorize her face. 
It was already 7 pm and Lav and Nessa were getting their stuff to leave when Harry came up to talk to them: 
“Girls, Lovelace just called the office and asked if we want to have dinner at her place. I’m going, care to join?” 
“I can’t, have to meet Cathy. We have a dinner date to try and finally find a date that is good to get married” said Nessa “but I think it would be good for Lav so she can get a feel about how we work” 
“I can give you a ride if you want” Harry offered with a sweet smile, putting both of his hands on the reception table and getting closer to her face. 
“Uh, sure. Let me just get the rest of my stuff” 
“Sure, I’m waiting outside” 
Vanessa was looking down at her with cheeky eyes and knowing smile: “you are going to have the best fuck of your life” Lav eyes grew wide “oh me and my fiancée once had a threesome with Harry. A one time thing but didn’t he gave us the ride of our lives” 
“There will be no fu… mingling with the boss for me. Thank you very much” Lavignia said while getting the rest of her stuff and walking away with heavy steps and wide angry eyes. She was already out of the door but she could still listen to Vanessa’s laughter. 
She started looking for a nice and extravagant car but what she found was Harry leaning on a very red Harley Davidson. Picking at his nails, tearing off the nail polish in the process. 
“Hey. Ready?” She was shaking she had never walked on a motorcycle. 
“Kinda. Never been on a motorcycle before” 
“What a pleasure to be the your first ride then” Harry said giving her a blinking eye and a mischievous smile. “First let’s  put this thing on you” he got closer to her with a blue helmet with silver stars in hand. 
First he caressed her messy curls and then slided the helmet on her head, never taking his green eyes off of her: “you look perfect with this on, like you belonged on a fast ride, just like this ride I’m going to give you” 
She didn’t know how to answer that, she could just blush. 
“Let’s go?”  Nodding with her hand and getting onto the bike with Harry, Lavignia had this nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach: it burned. Every single time he turned a left she would end up brushing her front against his back that was covered by the thin blue shirt. She never felt this spark before, almost like something in her body was screaming for the feel of him. Maybe was the fact they spent the day in the middle of sensual pieces of arts, maybe was the fact that the smell of vanilla on his neck made her think of sex.
And she never thought of sex, never understanding what was the appeal to showcase something it was supposed to be so intimate, and he didn’t have any filter when it comes to it. Maybe the almost 4 years without someone between her legs have finally got her and she was going crazy.
After it felt like an eternity in a war with her own thoughts, they came to a stop on a small circle park with 5 houses surrounding the area . All of them were big and out of a art decor movie. They came to a stop in front of one of the houses: this one was yellow with high walls and a lot of plants all over the entrance. 
“This is Jeannie Lovelace house. My house is the other one on the other side of the park” Harry finally said, without taking his helmet off, pointing towards a house with a bright orange tone to it with rounded windows and a balcony that was exposed for the street, full red roses. “She is already expecting us, you can go inside, I’m just gonna drop my bike at my house. Do you live close?”
“No, I live close to the beach, close to that souvenir shop, you know? It’s about 30 bus stops from the gallery.”
“You can stay at my place, if you want” he said in a normal tone but a sparkle was found inside his eyes, maybe she wasn’t the only one that was left shook from their little trip standing so close together.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea” she could admire him, but she couldn't touch. She only knew him for a few hours but she knew it was trouble. And maybe her tone was quite condescending because Harry changed his posture and stopped smiling and just pronounced a small and guilty “okay” before driving towards his house, acting almost like he was feeling shameful. Before Knocking on the door there was only one thing in her mind: this was going to be an extressfull dinner. 
.
Day 2: Woman with the black stockings 
(Painting they talk about: https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/a/ac/Schiele_-_Frau_mit_schwarzen_Strümpfen_-_1913.jpg )
“Darling, wake up” she could feel Jeannie elegant voice talking quietly “it’s almost 9, if you want to be on time to your meeting with Harry, you have to wake up now”
Meeting? When did she and Harry settled a meeting hour? Lav’s last memory was from getting another glass of the green drink because she was quite overwhelmed with the conversation topics. She didn’t even knew there was so much it could be talked about sex.
“Sorry” she said getting up “my head is killing me. Thank you for letting me crash here, I don’t even remember how I made it to this bed” she looked around, being in a big room with with walls and drawing of flowers all over it, Lovelace was standing right next to her holding a plate full of food. 
“Oh, darling there is nothing to be sorry for. You should thank Harry, he was the one who carried you over here” she said while settling the plate on her lap “but a little piece of advice? When it comes to absint you don’t drink more than 3 shots, now eat. Do you remember what we talked about last night?”
Oh God, she didn’t want to hear all of that AGAIN but she had to be honest: “after my third glass my mind is just a blackout. I’m so embarrassed”she said while getting the beautiful croissant and taking a bite of it and it was so good “You only know me for two days, you are my BOSS and I made a complete fool of myself”
“Again: nothing to be sorry for, everybody in the gallery is like family to me. Not counting Jesse, he is just someone that gives us money…. think of him like the awful uncle that everybody has to deal with” laughing at her own joke  “We just talked about the opening then me and Harry stared to exchange stories… that was when you started to drink a little too much.”
“I just… I hope this doesn’t get me fired but, you all just treat sex like it isn’t an act it should be kept in your bed and I got nervous yesterday with the topics of the conversation once we stopped talking business and especially Harry I mean…. I met him when he was talking about a menage he had in search for inspiration to write about an art piece” She said with open eyes and exasperated sigh
“Lavignia, sweetie, you know that this gallery is about sex right? We showcase pieces with a sensual and sexual background. Also we hold parties, books reading, music. Look at the name we gave it: MORNING AND EXTASE”
“Oh god, I’m so sorry Mrs. Lovelace, when we talked you only told me about this exposee we are doing and I thought that was it. I know that sensuality and art are two themes that often come together but ….”
“There is no problem, Lavignia” she said in a more serious tone, yeah, Lav was out of a job only on her second day, she was sure of it. “Look, I was so ecstatic to have someone with your resume that I only talked about what we are working on right now. Can I ask you something? Give us a chance, please? Especially Harry, he is a sweet guy who lives and feels everything, he gives himself whole in everything: art, friendship, love, sex. I wish I could have met someone like him when I was younger, I would be married, maybe.” She said with a sweet smile “When we are over with the planning of this, if you wish, you can let us go. But try and immerse yourself with us, there is more to the world than ‘waking up, growing old and dying’. If at the end of this you don’t wanna stay, I will find you a job at the most traditional art gallery. But, give us a chance, there is something behind your eyes that longs for something, I can see it, let us show you there is no shame in living.”
Looking at her hands, Laviginia thought about how she was never satisfied, leaving her parents home when they wanted her to get married to their neighbor, going to college in another country, then going to Paris to find a job and failing and now having this big opportunity in her hands: she couldn’t say no; so she nodded and got a big hug from the elegant old lady.
“Now, I asked Harry to get you a few clothes ‘cause I figured you wouldn’t want to be another entire day with the same ones.  He is already here with the clothes I’m going to get it for you. Take a shower. We’ll be waiting for you in the living room” Jeannie said getting up from her sitting down position in bed but before she could reached the door she turned to Lav and said “and another thing: don’t ever call me Mrs again, either Jeannie or Lovelace. Okay?” and with that she left the room and Lav went to shower, knowing she had a chance in her hands and the only person who could mess this chance up. 
.
After taking her shower Lavignia came back to the room to find not only clothes but shoes and underwear and even a perfume, on top there was a note: 
Lovelace would not forgive me if I got you clothes and didn’t bought you a perfume. According to her a woman is naked without a scent. I hope I got the sizing right. 
H.
PS: I would love to see you wearing the lingerie, this one was all Jeannie. 
Of course he would said something like that. The clothes consisted of a black mini dress with red little hearts and a high turtleneck, together with black boots and a thigh high black stockings. The lingerie was pretty, a set with a bright cherry color made of  lace and satin. She loved looking at the mirror using such a beautiful piece, there was something about her she didn’t knew it could be achievable: she looked quite sensual. She felt like she was Twiggy herself (even if she didn’t look at all like Twiggy).
Last but not least: the perfume. It was Paris by YSL and it smelled like richness and sex. Of course he wouldn’t give any less than something like this. But she couldn’t lie, she was grateful for him, Lav knew she was quite harsh to him just the night before with her judgmental looks and words, but even then he got out of this way to help someone he only knew for 24 hours. 
Getting down the stairs she could ear the light tone of their conversation, something about “opening yourself for love”, it seems like Lav was not the only one that was getting a preach from the one and only Jeannie Lovelace. 
With the sound of her footsteps getting closer, Harry turned around and smiled: “glad I got the sizing right. You look nice.” He was getting up and so was Jeannie
“I’m going to give you guys a ride and then I’m picking Nessa up, we are going to the train station”
“I thought we all were working together today” Harry said while walking side by side with both women toward the backdoor that lead to the garage. Jeannie gave them both a big smile:
“Early this morning I got the news: We got the Corregio” in that moment Harry lifted Jeannie up and started to kiss her cheeks while saying “I knew you could do it”.
Antonio da Corregio was an painter from the italian renaissance, being able to get one of his pieces to put on display outside from its home museum in Viena was almost impossible . Lav was looking at the interaction and saw it for the first time: Lovelace saw Harry like a son. They were a little happy family. What she didn’t expect was Harry to put Jeannie down and take her into his arms, giving a big hug and involving her in his smell all over again. 
“Now, let’s go kids. You two have to analyse the Schiele piece and me and Vanessa have a date with Corregio”. And so they left in a very lilac mercedes. 
.
Laviginia couldn’t stop sweating, she was standing side by side with Harry in front of a big painting of a woman sitting down, pushing her skirt up so she could show all of her private parts. With very red lips and nipples and black stockings, very similar to the ones Harry got her, and from his face, she was sure it was not a mere coincidence.
“What do you think we should do with this one?” Harry asked
“I think every piece of art tells a story and we have to discuss about this piece, what story does it tells us” Lav said getting away from the painting and closer to the books she had spread all over the table, looking for her bookmarks about Egon Shiele  and any piece of information about his painting The woman with black stockings.  She looked over at Harry and he looked relaxed with his with long sleeve shirt full of drawings on the sleeves and blue jeans. He was calm while waiting for her to tell him about whatever piece of information she found on the books. Her mind was going crazy, she was sweating through all of her pores, there was the same unfamiliar warmth in the pit of her stomach and there was Harry, changing his attention between her and the naked woman like they were talking about the weather. Finally she found the information she was looking for in one of the many bookmarks she made “This dates back to 1913, he got arrested countless time because of his art…”
“It’s ridiculous being arrested for making his art, especially one so intimate but I understand the time but so be it, I hate it when people make sex such a taboo. But please, continue with what you were telling me”
Cleaning her throat, she continued “according to this the reason behinds his arrests were his nude and semi-nude portrayals of his lovers. It also says those portrayls are so beguiling is quite simple: they have a filth quality to it. He likes to portrait his adoration towards woman and sex”
“Wow, that’s probably the most of dirty talk you have ever made in your life, I’m proud you got to reading all of this only blushing a bit” he looked at her with kind eyes and a smirk gracing his beautiful rosé lips “Okay, he wants to show devotion and rawness to it, right? There is this gorgeous woman spread open for him, longing for him as I hope he was longing to get between her legs and get so deep they don’t know when one ends and the other begins. I think that the theme of this is want, is the disinhibition, not being ashamed of wanting something that is so good” Lav felt like he was talking about her and not the painting “He has a dirty mind freakness, doesn’t only show people what he is seeing, he shows us his desire and let us get into his intimate for one reason: he painted his lovers, people he knew from inside out, people who must have some meaning to him. The fact that he can put together adoration and the most primal act of the human race, takes his art from merely beautiful to widely erotic”
“What does it feel like?” she asked him “being able to see and feel and talk about this without feeling like it’s wrong? Being able to let yourself go”
Harry looked at her and she had no idea what his face was telling her. He was sitting on the floor and pated the place in front of him in a silence request for her to join him. She sat in front of him, folding her legs and looking him in the eye
“I always felt like there was more to life than the one I was leading on, you know? My family came from money, but everything just felt the same, so one day, as soon as I turned 18, I went to Los Angeles, that was 10 years ago, ending of the 60s and beginning of the 70s, David Bowie was still becoming what he is now, Beatles had just broken up Fleetwood Mac didn’t have Stevie Nicks. There I met people who showed me more and more of living and then I started writing, becoming myself. It was with my art that made my own money and got kind of famous but I never actually showed my face to magazines till  I came to Italy when I heard that the gallery wasn’t doing very well, offered to help and I gained a second mother in Lovelace, she was there for me all the time and she was the first one to tell me that I didn’t have to be ashamed of who I was, if I like a bit of everything or if I dress quite flamboyant or anything.” Harry smiled “ That’s what she wants for everybody: have a fulfilling life like hers, without any fears. It’s all a learning you know, one day at the time, you get there.” Harry took her hand and gave it a kiss “tomorrow we’ll all be together to look at the Corregio, you can talk about whatever you are feeling, I promise you: no one is going to judge you.”
“You know it would be nice to just be able to talk about this without feeling like I’m going to hell and I don’t even believe there is a hell.”
“If hell is full of people who don’t care about labels and know how to have fun… I don’t wanna go to heaven “ Harry smiled “but you know, I’m a GREAT teacher, I would love to teach you how to be less awkward when it comes to the theme, after all you are working for a gallery about sex”
“I’m not having sex with you”
“God, Lav, don’t be such a pervert, I was talking about being less shy when it comes to talking about it. Come on repeat with me ‘fuck me’ without blushing”
“Fuck me”
“No, fuck me” 
“Fuck me” 
“No”
“Fuck me”
“Finally! That’s my girl.” Harry said giving a peck to her nose. “Now, how about we go eat a nice gelato, my treat. Then we can come back to talk about the painting”
.
Day 3: Jupiter and Aphrodite
https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/f/fb/Correggio_028c.jpg
https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/f/fb/Correggio_028c.jpg
“I crave your mouth, you voice, your hair/ Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets/ Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day/ I hunt for the the liquid measure of your steps” the words from the poem left Harry’s mouth like honey. When they both arrived early to the gallery, Harry sat on the floor with a poetry book and asked if she wanted him to read for him. “I hunger for you sleek laugh/ your hands the color of savage harvest/ hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails/ I want to eat your skin like a whole almond”
When Harry said that sentence he stopped briefly and looked at Lavignia, wanting to see her reaction. He didn’t choose that poem with no intend, he wanted her to see how sexuality and love could be show on poem, with such a easy passion, no shame. She was looking right at the pearls he was wearing around his neck, thinking he didn’t noticed the way she was staring at his chest and necklace, he licked his lips and continued: “I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body/ the sovereign of your arrogant face/ I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes.
The more Harry read, the more Lavignia was imagining he was doing all the the things quoted, adoring her body with such hunger, she was thanking God that he was close to finish his reading: “And I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight/ Haunting for you, for your hot heart/ Like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue” He closed the book and looked at her:” so, that was the Love Sonnet XI by Pablo Neruda, what do you think of it?”
“It’s beautiful”
“Only beautiful? What do you feel when you listen to those words. Erotism can also come in form of beautiful words, to show those feelings and to have them returned are a bliss, if is a one night or a lifetime.”
She wanted to be like him, like everybody she met during those 3 days, so she trying to raise her voice and finally say something:
“I feel hunger. Hunger for life. I don’t want to feel like it’s wrong to desire someone”
Harry got closer to her, almost touching their knees together. The moment he walked through the door last monday he was captivated by the girl wearing the cherry tree print dress. He couldn't stop watching her every movement, how she would stare at each art piece with a passion observation yet timid eyes, how she would like at him like he was from mars, she had so much inside of her screaming to break out of the coffins of her mind and heart, and Lovelace made him promise he would help her, she saw so much of her in Lavignia. 
“Would you like to try and  live the life you always longed for?” he asked her.”You will never be judged here, that is a promise I make you, in the name of everybody”
She was hypnotized by his eyes and the thought of finally exploring whatever she felt since she was younger and everybody always told her how wrong it was: this hunger. Ever since she read the Betty Friedan book “The feminine mystique” and was shocked to find out that women also could find pleasure in sex just like men. Never having the courage but each day inside the gallery she could feel the same insistent pit in her stomach always asking for more” So she just nodded and Harry got even closer, so close she could see the blue and golden inside his eyes and could hear his breathing and smell the mint in his breath.
This guy that just this weekend was having threesomes was going to kiss her shamelessly inside  their workplace. And she was going to let him. 
“Good Morning darlings” said the elegant voice of Jeannie coming from the front door “I’m a little bit late but I got fresh macarons from the french bakery close to Nessa’s place. She is just parking the … oh” Finally looking at the young couple on the floor so close that it was unmistakable that they were about to kiss when the owner of the gallery busted through the door “well…. young passion, always a good feeling when you just can’t wait till you can get home and enjoy each other but please do whatever you were going to do away from the art pieces, we wouldn’t want another incident like the party we threw back in 75”
Harry gave Jeannie a cheeky smile while the only thing Lavignia could feel was shame, absolut and complete shame. Opening her mouth to defend the situation she found herself in: 
“But we weren’t going to…”
“Lavignia you know I’m the biggest and most precious work of art from our little gallery” Harry said at the same time she was trying to come up with any excuse, looking at her while getting up and offering his hand.
“Oh Harry if I was 30 years younger you wouldn’t scape me” Jeannie answered. Today she was using a elegant bright red dress and a scarf around her head and by the smile on her face, Lav understood what they were trying to do: they wanted her to feel comfortable so they were joking to show her there was no problem in whatever they were doing.
“Now, enough talking we have two pieces to figure it out today and Harry where the fuck is the Semmel?” Lovelace said taking her heels off and started to walk around, checking everything they had already done. There was still 3 pieces for them to figure out how they would showcase. 
.
They were all sitting on the bench Harry dragged to the middle of the room, with watchful eyes resting on Lavignia that was right in the middle of two art pieces. They all were waiting for her to begin her explanation: 
“So, if you look at my right, we have the famous Correggio painting: Jupiter and Io, dated back 1530. So, we all know the Romans saw Jupiter as the equivalent of the Greek god Zeus. According to the tale, he was attracted to everything that was beautiful, especially Io, she was one of Hera’s priestess. Jupiter was always tempted by others beauty and would disguise himself to be closer to them. In the case of the Correggio” she said posting towards the bluish god that was encasing the woman in a sensual way “he took the form of a velvet fog to reach for Io” pointing through naked woman encased by the fog, she took a break, waiting to see if they wanted to add something but Jeannie just gave her a small smile, telling her to continue: “it’s from the Italian renaissance, as we all know and the technique is oil on canvas, it’s height is around 5’4 and is has been in the Austria museum since the XVI century” 
Harry raised his hand not wanting to disrupt her talking, he was quite fond of the way she lost all of her shyness and insecurities when it comes to art. When she was done she looked at Harry when he raised from his sitting position to get closer to the painting: 
“If we look next to her face, we can see a face form itself on the fog, that’s Jupiter, right? He is there taking her pleasure as his own and giving his pleasure to her as her own. It’s a mutual feeling, she isn’t dreaming about the fog, he is there. This is such an erotic turn, showing us this woman being involved with this fog, her face looks like she was being pleasured. It’s about the feeling of letting go, she was letting herself being encased by this fog, encased by desire” turning his face to the redhead sitting close to Lovelace he asked “what do you think, Nessa?” 
Crossing her long legs that were covered by a letter flared jumpsuit she stayed quiet, taking the pairing calmly. 
“I think I wanna hear about the Aphrodite before making a decision” 
Harry pinched Lavignia cheeks lightly as if saying: come on, we are waiting. 
Lavignia was looking at the piece. The three naked woman with no shame, laying together on top of the blue satin sheets: one was laying down with her hands above her head, the other was on her fours atop of the laying girl and the third was encasing the the same girl that has her eyes closed in delight. It was clear that she was the one they were intending to adore, she was Aphrodite. 
“Aphrodite is one of the famous goodness, she is the goodness of love and beauty, she was responsible for the perpetuation of life, pleasure and joy…” Lav lost her train of thoughts the moment she looked at Harry. 
He looked calm, standing so next to her, listening so attentive, as if every word that came from her mouth was precious to the subject. His eyes were extremely green thanks to the green and blue crochet vest he was wearing together with a high waisted jeans but everytime he raised his arms she could see a bit of his soft belly and what it seemed to be a butterfly tattoo. 
“Earth to Lavignia?” said the fant voice of Jeannie. Shaking her head a muttering a small ‘sorry’, she continued:
“Anyway, this illustration on paper was made for the Pierre Louys’s book, the artist is Maurice Ray, we don’t know the date but it’s from the 19th century, so it’s nearly not as old as the Correggio, so if we want to sort by date: we can’t. They are too far apart. We have to find the common ground beside both being created after myth. But we don’t have much on the creator of the illustration to help us built the story. It could be helpful” 
“You know” Harry started “it’s good when people don’t know the life of an artist. I mean, I don’t want people to read my poetry and think what inspired me. Like my “cherry” poem, and think “it’s about his last girlfriend who left his heart broken’, I want people to look at my art and take it as their own. The moment I give it to the world, it’s not mine anymore. Each person has their own claim for the piece, their own meaning, their own story. I look at those pieces and I don’t wanna know if the woman in Correggio was the one that got away, I wanna look and see what this makes me feel, how this tells me a story” 
Harry had a girlfriend who broke his heart? Does he always write from his own perspective? Where can she find one of his poems? She wants to know more about the boy who seemed to never look anything but a full rainbow with his colours and happiness. 
“So, we only have now to work with Sunlight to finish the preparations for the grant opening. Nessa is everything okay with the catering?” 
“Yes, I spoke to the cantina owner, you know, Angelo. He invited us to have dinner there today, so we can try everything he wants to bring” then opening her purse and getting a red notebook “I think we have everything covered: food, drinks, journalist to come, photographers, invitations has been send. I  think the only thing lacking is the Sunlight… Harry, where the fuck is the Sunlight?”
His eyes opened and he looked a little bit frightened at Vanessa: “shit, Nessa, don’t pull those eyes on me, I always get scared. I promise: it will be here, okay?” nervously he looked at both Jeannie and Vanessa, and then at Lavignia, in a suplic for a little help. 
“What time should we be at the cantina?” she changed the subject
“In a few hours, it’s only 2 pm now, maybe at 6, the music is going to start at 6 but we know nothing actually works on time here”
“Okay, so maybe let’s just revise everything? And maybe finally find the order we want to exhibit everything? Lav, do you have any idea?”
“I can only think the cliche: year and technique” 
“We have been here for the last four hours searching, reading, talking about those paintings. Can we do it tomorrow” Asked Nessa, raising her arms to stretch.
“Sure, how about you two go and write all that has been discussed today while me and Harry talk business in the office upstairs?” Lovelace said, taking Harry by the hand and leading him to the stairs that stood almost in a hidden part of the gallery.
When they were long gone, Vanessa questioned if she knew that they weren’t going talk business and when she didn’t respond, she continued:
“Harry ex-girlfriend cheated on him and then left with some french preppy guy saying he wasn’t the one because she could never deal with his ways. This was almost a year ago, he was pretty depressed, to be honest, cried a lot, never wanted to sleep alone” 
“Does he ever want to sleep alone?”
“You know, you are fast to judge people, when I think you are opening up to us... “ she stopped to get one of the posters for the gallery and pointed towards the front exit, needing help to put the poster in its place.
When Lavignia thought she wasn’t going to hear anymore of that, she finally continued the talk: “he hates being alone. He practically moved to Lovelace’s house for the first month, was always listening to Fleetwood Mac’s Landslide, crying. Actually, I think during those first three months he only took one person to bed and he cried during it. He started to get better when he wrote his book, travelled all around Asia, he vanished for maybe 45 days. When he got back, he was him again. Maybe a better version of himself”
“Why are you telling me all of this, you don’t even know if I’m going to stay at the gallery or I’m gonna take the other job”
“You know… I can see in your eyes, the sparkle when you talk about those pieces, when you let yourself go. But then, it's like something turns it on in your brain, almost like it’s short circuiting, and then… you stop, you blush and you give us judgmental stares”
“You know, I can’t help it”
“I know” Nessa said with a faint smile “but we can help you”
.
They were all laughing over bottles of chardonnay and pasta, Lovelace was in the middle of telling one of her many stories about the roaring 30 and all that she done back in New York. They got there half an hour ago, the music crew were beginning to put all the instruments over the small stage. The cantina was only two blocs from the gallery. They were sitting outside, in a round table with red and white tablecloth, with fairy lights to illuminate the place, trees that gave the place a certain fairy look.
When they arrived, there was a petite black woman with a sundress and braids on her hair, she recognized to be Nessa’s fiance, but she couldn’t bring herself to remember her name, no matter how much she tried.
When they sat, she was in the middle of Jeannie and Harry. She could feel his arms brushing her back every time he talked. 
“Guarda se non sei la donna più bella di tutto il nord italia” said a tall man, he must be around his sixties. Very blue eyes, gray hair and charming smile. He had honeyd voice, and man, she really needs to improve her Italian if she wants to stay.
“Quindi mi ci abituo, Angelo. E come sempre: il cibo è delizioso.”
They continued to talk for a bit, Lavignia ended up losing the conversation, looking at the small stage, that now had a singer, maybe she was finally going to be introduced to some good italian song besides Volare.
“Perdona la mia mancanza di istruzione” he looked at Lav “sei nueva qui, guisto?  La tua nuova ragazza, Harry? Che bella”
“Nei miel più grandi sogni, forse” God, Harry’s voice sounded even more charming in italian “Lavignia è il nuovo impiegato della galleria. Ma penso she dovremmo parlare in inglese”
“I am so sorry, my dearest” he said with a very strong accent “ I didn’t knew you didn’t speak Italian. It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m Angelino and welcome to my humble restaurant”
“Thank you so much. I know a bit of Italian, but it’s the language I speak the least and with all the noise and people talking at the same time, it gets hard to understand”
In that moment, the song beguin to play “Our music guess is starting now, if you excuse me… Jeannie, mi concede questo ballo?” taking her hand he lead her to the dancefloor, followed by Nessa and Cathy, who she finally remembered the name.
“And then they were two” Harry whispered turning to her 
She took another bite of the pasta containing a moan while Harry finished his glass, getting another bottle and pouring  for both of them”
“It was my bad Italian or Jeannie and Mr. Charming over there were flirting?” Harry smirked with her statement:
“You are absolutely, right. They flirt all the fucking time. It’s cute but sometimes I just want to push them towards a bedroom with a very big bed and say they can only leave after they fucked their brains out”
The more they talked, the more Harry got closer. He asked about her life before Italy and she asked about his book. She told about how she was trapped with her parents even after she graduated, so she left. He told her about his traveling through Asia, the people he met, how he went to a David Bowie show in Japan, that each city he visited brought him back to himself. 
“You know, maybe...can I buy one of your books?” she asked, with a timid glint all over her eyes “I just want to know what type of art you write”
“Oh, my poetry is all about having sex and feeling sad”
“Well, I still want to. I might blush a lot and maybe won’t be able to look you in the eyes on the first few days, but then I’ll get over it”
“How about this, you dance with me and tomorrow I give you my book to read. Deal” 
“Deal” shaking hands then getting up towards the dancefloor. 
Putting both of his hands on her hips, Harry got closer. They could listen to the calming voice of the singer. Softly singin the chorus of the song, with his mouth close to her ear. 
Lavignia could smell his cologne and feel the heat from his body, almost like he was encasing her in a protection spell from the wind. 
“You seem to know the words to the song. Who is this guy?”
“Oh, he is Pino Daniele, right now he only performs at small bars, weddings. But all of his songs are so good, give him a few years and I’m sure he’ll be big, at least here in Italy. That’s for sure” 
After that they were quiet for a moment, she was trying to catch the words to the song. Feeling distracted by the environment they had: fairy lights, the jazz with a popish sound to it, people dancing without a care, everything so colorful. The heat of the summer night was disguised because of the slightly cold wind that came from being close to the beach. Harry cleaned his throat to get her attention:
“I need your help. The Joan Semmel painting is so hard for me to decipher and I think I know why, she painted from such a tender female point of view. And I know I could ask anyone to help me, but I love how in love with art you are. How you lose yourself describing and talking about the pieces” 
“Okay, I can help. But are you sure Jeannie and Nessa won’t be mad?” 
“I already talked to Jeannie and Nessa a little bit before we had to leave the gallery, actually” the slower song came to an end but they couldn’t let each other go. There was comfort in this embrace and light conversation. Almost like they had done this a thousand times before. 
“You could come by my place tomorrow. We can fix this, maybe I can read some of my poems, since you’re so curious” 
“Sure, what time?” 
“Around lunch? There is no hurry since it’s close to eight and I don’t think we’ll be going home anytime soon” 
She had a night full of dancing and wine ahead of her. She could only wonder what would happen tomorrow when the sun came out. 
Day 4: Office Love https://www.phillips.com/detail/A/NY040210/233
The sky was cloudy when Lavignia knocked on the mahogany door. The house from the outside was already beautiful, with vines all over the place, the orange color of the wall and big door. 
“Hey” Harry said while opening the door, dressed in just a satin robe “I was drawing, I lost track of time. Would you like to come in?” 
The door lead her to his living room, there was a big hello round couch, with red walls and a Indian tapestry. The red walls were full of art pieces - all of them pretty much leaning on the sensual side - the  three ceiling to floor windows gave a beautiful view of the street and grey sky. 
“Feel like you’re at your own home, okay? Please put your shoes over there” he said pointing towards a small cabinet “I’m just going to put on some clothes and I’m be back” 
With Harry upstairs, she was left alone to wander through the living room. There were magazines and vinyls all over the place as well as books about a few of the artists they were going to exhibit. He was doing his homework, apparently. 
But then something got hold of her attention: it was a black and white photograph. It seemed like it was an office, a typical American one. With two big windows and a rectangular desk but there, laying at the same desk, there was a barely dressed woman with her breast out and a man -completely dressed- devouring the woman’s chest. 
“Do you like the work of Helmut Newton?” She heard Harry’s voice just behind her, when she turned around there he was with a graphic white t shirt full of little watermelons drawings and jeans shorts. 
“You scared me, you walked down the stairs really quiet” 
“I wasn’t quiet, you were just really paying attention to the photograph. So do you like Helmuts job?” 
“I never heard of him ‘till today” 
“Well… he is a German photographer and is known for his studies of the female body. He worked a lot with Yves Saint Laurent and that was actually how I met him, I loved his fashions editorials of the brand. Then when I was at the fine arts museum in Boston last year, I saw this photograph. He was touring with his new exhibition when I bought this one. But it only arrived last month, when the tour was done” 
He was side by side with her, looking at the piece for a few seconds before continuing his explanation: “the name of this photograph is Office Love. When I had the chance to talk to him he said he wanted his photographs to arouse. And they do, because he so boldly explores his longings. But, in my personal opinion, what makes his art so sexy is his obvious belief that sex in the most important thing in the world” he looked at Lavignia “so, what do you think?” 
She looked at him with wide eyes and open mouth. 
“You don’t have to say anything to me, okay? But think about this painting when you’re alone. I lost the count of how many times I sat on this same couch looking at her and imaging it was me on the picture. Especially this week” did he said what she thinks he said? “Anyway, would you like to eat something before we start? I brought my book with me, thought we could eat a peanut butter sandwich and I’ll read something”. When she nodded, Harry took her hand and lead her towards the kitchen. 
.
His kitchen was all black and white: black and white tiled floor, black electrical appliance with white walls. Black table with white chairs. 
He made the sandwiches and got them a glass full of water. When they were halfway done, he got one his book and asked what type of poem she would like to hear. 
“Anything. Just want to get to know your art” 
“I’ll just open randomly then…” and when he did, his smile flared a little bit, maybe this poem represents a sad moment in his life. When she was close to telling him that there was no need for him to read if it hurted him, he cleared his throat and said: “this is The cherry sonet” 
Along with the cherry trees came hopeless sorrow
The cherry color reminds me that I’ll still hurt tomorrow
Dreams of you erupted in my waking 
My broken heart is still yours for the taking 
When you met him, did he called you ‘cherriè’?
When you kissed him, did you remembered me? 
And when you left me
Did you feel like you were finally free? 
But don’t you call him baby 
Don’t you dare 
To call him what you used to call me 
But don’t you call him baby 
Don’t you dare
To call him what you used to call him 
She felt tears in her eyes, that was the first time he was avoiding looking at her. Closing the book he gave her and whispered “it’s yours. Take care of it” 
“Harry, I’m so sorry. No one deserves to feel this heartbreak” 
“It was a long time ago. I don’t miss her, I don’t even love her anymore. But every time I remember what she done to me and how much pain I went through my hearts remembers the heartbreak.” 
“I understand if you don’t wanna talk about it, but, who was she?” 
“Her name doesn’t matter. She lived here for a while, I fell in love so deeply, I don’t think I was ever in love before her. It was like the world gained color and I didn’t have to be so lonely, anymore. I was still trying to figure it out where I stood in the world, and for that to work out, I tried to be the perfect match for her. I think i lost a bit of me when I lost her. But that was never truly me, you know” he paused to drink some water “ She didn’t like how I treated matters of privacy. She didn’t like the theme of the gallery and she didn’t like Lovelace either. Said she was a bad influence. So to prove her I could work with other themes, I made this work with a French gallery owner. She cheated on me with him.” 
“Harry… I don’t know what to say to you. I never fell in love and don’t even remember liking someone that liked me back, you know? I don’t know much about you, but I can see that you’re good and you don’t deserve any of that” 
He got her hand that was over the table and took in his. Not saying anything but it was like their conversation was happening without needing any words. 
“I think we need to work on the Semmel. Do you want me to bring here or would you mind if we go to my music room. I left it there” 
.
The music room consists of a place full of music instruments, more vinyls and more books. With pillows and tapestry all over the floor, there was no couch or chair. If you wanted to sit, you had to sit on the floor. On the far left of the room there was a painting with a purple bed sheet covering everything. 
“Ready?” He pulled the sheet and she was left marvelous. 
Joan Semmel is a New Yorker painter and writer. Most of her works are about the female point of view. But, even with the knowledge about the artist’s life, nothing could prepare Lav for the pairing ahead of her: it was a woman sitting down on her bed, relaxed and completely naked. She was touching her body and her body was golden from the sunlight. You couldn’t see her face, she was painting from her point of view. 
“You know I can write about any perspective but I’m having trouble with this one because it shows such a intimate view of the woman’s body. I called Lovelace to help me as soon as we got the thing but she said “darling I’m too old to remember the feeling of looking down at a younger version of my body” 
Lavignia couldn’t mutter a word, she was too much hypnotized by the work. And also jealous: she doesn’t know what it is to be naked on her own bed just taking in her own body. She didn’t knew that could be so much freedom when you’re “normal”. Because one thing is too see Bowie and Jagger preaching sexual freedom. She thought it was made for the ones that had an unusual life. But here she was meeting people that had no problem with showing themselves to her. 
“So, what do you think?” Harry asked her. 
“She has a classic technique of color mixing and…”
“Darling I know all of that part. I need your take about the painting, what’s the feeling behind that and what it compares to true life, and then, together, we can figure it out how to fit inside the theme, how to display it and finally decide the story we are going to tell with Love and Sex because, I’m sorry, my dove, but we have such an unique gallery and exhibit that I don’t want to waste it with cliche display options, I know we only have two days but if we think something NOW, we have tomorrow and the entire morning of saturday to fix it.”
It was too much. It was too much. It was too much. 
This isn’t right. This isn’t right. This isn’t right. 
So Lavignia almost screamed without having second thoughts: 
“That’s not right, I can’t go on and talk about that! She had her thoughts while doing this piece, but there must exist this lack of control when people make such works. Life HAS to have control, Harry. YES it’s a wonderful piece but I don’t feel anything while looking at it” 
“You’re lying. I can tell when you’re looking at me like that” Harry said with a sad yet  angry look upon his eyes “your problem is that you never let yourself lose control. You don’t think I notice... but I do. You give everyone the same staring eyes, judgmental eyes when you remember about your ‘lack of control’. When Jeannie asked us to give you a chance, I went with an open heart. I just undressed my soul to you while reading that poem, I thought you were different from her, she judged me and left me. And here you are judging me. How many days till you walk away from the gallery? When we are on the day of the opening and you leave us with all of the work it should be also yours? We are a family down at the gallery and you have no right to fuck that up with your precious control” his voice started to raise “but let me tell you one thing: one day you are going to have a cock so deep in you that you’ll feel it on your tummy, fingers messing with your button and a tongue down your throat and you’re going to find down there is more to life than your precious control” 
He turned his back and finally said: “Get out of my house, I’ll call Lovelace and ask her to fix the Semmel for me.  I don’t think I will go to the gallery until the opening, I can’t look at you when you’re looking at me like I’m sick. If you want to stay, we all are going to welcome you with open arms. If you still  want to learn how to let go of your prejudice like you said it to me yourself: I’m here. But as long as you are judging us and messing with people's hard work: I can’t look at you.” He gave her one final look and opened his mouth one last time: “do me a favor and only go Saturday if you are willing to try. If that’s not what you want it’s not fair to you to continue to suffer what our daily works entails. And it’s not fair to us to be kept on the fence if you’ll stay or not. And it’s not fair to me to be lead on and think I have a chance of  you being mine” 
And with that he left the room. Letting Lavinia alone with her own thoughts. She had to get of his house. She need to talk with someone. 
She needed Jeannie Lovelace. 
.
She knocked one time. 
Nothing.
Another.
Nothing.
One more time and Lavignia would go home and pack.
The door was opened. 
“Darling, are you alright?” Said Jeannie Lovelace. She was with a beautiful black silk skirt, barefoot and a simple white shirt: “I thought you and Harry were going to spend the day together. Come in, come in” 
She went inside still paralyzed. Jeannie lead her towards the nearest couch (the heart shaped one) and said: “Laviginia, do you want a hug?”
She hugged the old lady that smelled like lavender. She felt at home. She cried.
“What happened? Do I need to go and kill Harry?”
“I think I’m the one that needs the killing” and so she begging the story. From the time they met, to all the flirst, how Harry tried to help her to feel at home and more comfortable with her own skin and nature. Told about the flirting and the night before. And then… told her about what happened just a few minutes ago. When she was done, Jeannie looked at her and finally started to talk: 
“Lav, I don’t think he was right to say those things, but I don’t think you were right to judge so harshly. You know, we are what life made us” she paused “I can’t talk about you, I just met you. I hired you not only because of your knowledge and because we needed someone with your background, I could easily get somenome from Rome for that. But it was because I trust my instincts and it felt like there was a little fairy whispering to me ‘she’s the one you need’. I don’t know how much do you want to open up, but I’m here” 
Lavignia opened her mouth without even thinking “do you know why I was in Paris? Because after I graduated my father told me that now that I could say I was educated and fulfilled my ‘feminist dream’ I should go back to real life and marry. He wanted me to marry the neighbor, by the way. When I said no, he just told me to leave. I still had a bit of money and one of my classmates was French, so that’s where I went.” 
“You know, for someone that is so afraid of life, you are quite brave” 
“So I’ve been told” she paused “but… how will this fix the shit Ihave done to him?” 
“My darling, he is no stranger to heartbreak. He is a free spirit, yes, but he longs to have someone to be free with him. There was something about you that made him feel enchanted, the same way he was some time ago with that girl… but she wasn’t the one for him”
“But I have done the same thing: I was quick to me judgmental with him” 
“There is a huge quote by the one and only Anaïs Nin that goes like this: ‘You live like this, sheltered, in a delicate world, and you believe you are living. Then you read a book… or you take a trip… and you discover that you are not living, that you are hibernating. The symptoms of hibernating are easily detectable: first, restlessness. The second symptom (when hibernating becomes dangerous and might degenerate into death): absence of pleasure. That is all. It appears like an innocuous illness. Monotony, boredom, death. Millions live like this (or die like this) without knowing it. They work in offices. They drive a car. They picnic with their families. They raise children. And then some shock treatment takes place, a person, a book, a song, and it awakens them and saves them from death. Some never awaken’. Do you understand that, darling?”
“I do. How do you remember so much of this big quote?”
“Because it was thanks to this book that I woke up. You see, my family had same expectations for me. But imagine that 40 years ago… women barely could go to university. It was - still is, sadly - a man’s world. But, day by day, we can get our space. And that’s in everything, including sex. Don’t be ashamed to own your power. Own your body. Give your life everything what it deserves. Think of you first. And… when you find out who you are and if that person wants people like us as your friends, will be here. If you want Harry to be with you, he will be. And he will take you on your craziest adventures because come on… he’s an aquarius” 
“I’m a Libra” 
“It’s a good match” Lovelace laughed “would you like some wine? I was about to drink some rosé?” 
One hour later they had bruschetta and one bottle of wine almost finished. She was listening to Lovelace talk about her adventures and, unlike last Monday, she was lovin’ it. That woman had such good stories. 
Maybe was the wine but Lavignia finally had the courage to ask: “Do you think Harry will forgive me?” 
“Darling, the moment you said yes to the wine, I know he will forgive you” 
“Why?”
“Because you stayed”
.
Day 5: sunlight 
https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joan_Semmel#/media/File%3AThe_Jewish_Museum's_Wikipedia_Edit-a-Thon_20.jpg
Lavignia woke up with the rays of the sun hitting her face. She looked at the window and it was completely opened. Didn’t she close it last night? 
After all the drinking and talking with Jeannie, she called her a taxi so she didn’t have to ride the bus alone and slightly intoxicated. 
Looking at the clock she had beside the mattress on the floor - she really didn’t have time to make her complete move just yet so her small loft was quite simple: off white walls, a dresser, a kitchen, her mattress and a little door to the bathroom with a a bathtub. There were boxes all over the floor, the Sunday after the opening she would fix everything, maybe paint the walls and get a few posters: one of Stevie Nicks, one of Frida Khalo and one of Bridget Bardot: her most divine life examples. 
Looking at her door, she saw her blue knee high boots and her purse and inside her purse she could see just a little bit of the light pink and blue book cover. 
Maybe … she could? 
She really didn’t want to get up so she crawled towards her purse and got the book. She could imagine his reaction to her crawling for something of his. 
Back to her bed, Lavignia was lost looking at the book cover, trying to catch all of the details. One side was blue and the other pink. The front cover he had the name “Fine Line” and there was a drawing of him laying down, naked. But you couldn’t see nothing, just the contour lines. Nothing else. At the back of the book there was a simple quote: 
This is a story about my journey. 
The one where I found and lost love. 
But I found myself. 
Do you know who you are? 
As soon as the book was opened, Lavignia found the dedication, it was for his mother and Jeannie - who he calls his American mother. Then, there was a list of 15 poems and prose with the number of pages next to it: the cherry tree sonet, I saw an angel; from the hallway I write you this poem; don’t call me baby, again; the fruits of your body; the lights; golden as the sun; adoration; sex is medicine; summertime and butterflies; from Tokyo, with love; the little gallery. 
What was better? Reading the book from the beginning or do just like Harry did not even 24 hour ago and choose randomly. Lavignia went with the later. This time it was a little prose:
Adoration 
I like the love language our eyes share. When we are so together laying in bed with the sounds of the city having a conversation behind the windows. We are so close that I can feel our lashes touch. Do you know I adore you? 
There are words you can’t say yet. And I understand, darling. You don’t have to say you love me. But I have to tell you: I adore you. 
Please, let me adore you
I adore you 
I love you 
Reading this made her understand more about him. Lovelace wasn’t lying when she said Harry feels everything to its maximum. He was so pure when it comes to the matter of the heart. She felt so guilty for how she treated him. But she knows that at the time she was a different person than she is now, just a day later. All thanks to Jeannie and her Anaïs Nin quote. Wanting to read another, she opened the book in a random page, this time it was a poem: 
The fruits of your body 
From the tangerine smell of your body 
To the dreams I have of your lipstick 
It’s strawberry lick, isn’t?
From the way you hold my body 
To the way you make me love it
It’s sultriness, isn’t? 
From taste of watermelon 
That slips all the way down your legs 
I suck it all up. Don’t I? 
From the way you make me grow
To the way you make me shiver 
I’m at your feet
Yours. 
Yours while you’ll have me. 
Yours. 
As long as the fruit season lasts. 
I hope it lasts forever
The more she read, hotter she felt. It was never like this. She ripped her dress off. She ripped her underwear off. She wanted to get off. For the first time. 
But how? 
And then she remembered something a certain curly haired man with a mustache told her: “think about it when you’re alone”. 
That painting. That damn painting. All of the art pieces she looked this week. The smell of him. The way his body moved. The way he looked at her. She was on fire. The sunlight coming from the window ignited the fire on her body. She was finally on fire. 
Looking down at her body, knowing she was treasure map, ready to be discovered. So her journey begins:
A light touch to her neck, with the tip of her finger. The heat grows inside. Her breast so full of desire: she grabbed them. Massages them. Pinching each one of her nipples. Changed the pressure. Moaned and arched her body. She needed more but she didn’t want to stop her exploring, so she raised to her knees, getting one of her pillows. 
Right between her legs. With her hands getting acquainted with herself she rolled her hip and thought of green eyes watching her. Would he have a smile on his face? She hopes so. Because she is so fucking proud of herself. She was a queen in search of the pleasure she never had the right before. 
Her body. Her pleasure. Her orgasm. 
When she got tired from riding the pillow she laid down again. Her hands went to her heat. And she touched and touched and touched. 
And then… sunlight. She was covered in light. She was the sunlight. Her body reactions is like a morning light: beautiful and so unique. 
When she had finally calmed herself she looked around. And something just clicked. 
Getting up and taking a shower was the first thing she needed to do. Then… Lavignia would run as fast as she could to the gallery: she knew what to do about the opening. 
Day 6: perfume  https://fineartamerica.com/featured/perfume-1910-luigi-russolo.html
Lavignia was going to have a syncope. She was sure of it. The sun was finally setting but it was still hot. Hotter than ever. And if she didn’t hurry she was going to be late for the opening. 
The silk white dress Lovelace gave her was from her own wardrobe. “From my peach days” she called. The dress had thin straps and it reached mid thigh with a fringe assuming the rest of the outfit till it reached her ankle. It was a true fastidious dress from the 30s. And she felt in character. 
Just the day before Laviginia stayed back at the gallery till almost 3am together with Jeannie and Vanessa (and Cathy, she got there with dinner for them and stayed to help). 
It was hard but the moment she told her idea, Jeannie and Vanessa fell in love with it. It was original and so in touch with everything the gallery stood for. 
Sitting on the bus she looked at the the street. It was almost night time and people were starting to begin their Saturdays festivities. Lavignia felt her stomach turn and turn, the closer she got to the bus stop the more her nerves were making her crazy. 
She was going to do the presentation. Yes, that was Jeannie and/or Harry’s job. But well… it would be a miracle if he showed up today and Lovelace said it was all Lavignia, so she is the one that making all the talking. 
Getting out of the bus was easy. Finding her around the streets that lead to Mattina ed Estasi was easy. There was music and people talking loudly. From the window of an old building she could see the shadow of a couple making love. 
But the moment she saw the red Harley, nothing was easy. Her heart was beating fast. Harry was already there. He probably saw the way they fixed everything. Just the paintings with a small description to it. The order didn’t offer any technical logic. Maybe he was mad. Maybe he was curious. Maybe he was just as anxious as she. 
But Lavignia knew she wouldn’t get her answer if she just stood there. She had to walk through those doors and face everything. 
She was ready. 
.
The moment she was inside the gallery she felt so proud of herself. Looking at all the pieces circling the space. Forming a cycle. A love and sex cycle. And four of those pieces where on the center stage: first is Sunlight, followed by Correggio and the Aphrodite, the gods and goodness deserved to be together. And, finally, the one she was so afraid on her second day of work but became one of Lav’s favorite art pieces to ever exist: the women with the black stockings. 
When she dressed today, she was inspired by the painting. But, instead of black, it was white. White lace and see through lingerie her friend from France gave her but she never had the courage to wear - till today - with white stocking. A little innocent gif, if Harry was willing to open when the night is over. 
And by the way… where is Harry? The opening was only for another hour and she knows she was the last one here. 
“Oh, you’re finally here. Good” she heard Nessa’s low voice. Dressed in a black glittery jumpsuit with wide legs and a heart shaped cut in the chest area. Looking like the disco goodness she was “Lovelace was getting worried. You look beautiful, by the way” giving her a small kiss on the cheek she continued “I have to go and see if all of the catering is ready but Lovelace and Harry are upstarts. Any second now… okay?” 
And she was alone again. But not for long. 
She could smell him before she could actually see him. The same vanilla and tobacco. But if Lavignia thought she was feeling a little bit woozy with his smell. Nothing could prepare her for the outfit he choose: white trousers and tank top with a white blazer. Something John Travolta would wear. He had a bit of scruff but his mustache was still the first thing she noticed in his face, together with the pink sunglasses. 
Harry was looking at her, frozen at the top of the copper stairs.  
“We match” she said about the all white assembly they both were wearing. 
“You came” 
And he gave her a small smile. Maybe not everything was lost. 
.
Even with their little exchange, Harry hasn’t talked to her. The opening was keeping everybody busy. There was photographers and journalist to entertain. A lot of people from the villa, too. 
From the corner of her eye, she could see Jeannie in her bright pink spaghetti dress talking to Angelino. He was wearing a blue velvet suit. They fitted together. 
The clock read 8:47 pm, more 13 minutes and she would go to the little stage and do the presentation. She was nervous. Lavignia was in need of a drink. 
As if he heard her thoughts, Harry got closer to her for the first time in the evening with a champagne glass:
“You look nervous. Everything is perfect, you can relax” he said, with a faint smile. Up close she could see the birds tattooed in his chest “and don’t you look quite dazzling tonight” 
“Thanks. You look quite handsome yourself” accepting the glass and taking a big gulp, her shoulders finally relaxing a bit “I’m nervous about the presentation” 
“Don’t be. Lovelace always dazzles everyone. And I’m quite curious to find out why she chose this order to present the works” 
He didn’t know. 
“She didn’t. I did. And I’m doing the presentation. I’m so nervous” Harry looked at her with shocked eyes. Then he looked around. Then back at her, finally taking his glasses off and looking right inside her eyes: 
“Then can you help me make sense of everything?”
“I think I’ll let you find out with the rest of the people here” 
“Why are you teasing me so much? I wouldn’t do that” 
“No, you would do worse” she looked at him with a glint inside the honey color of her eyes “actually, I think you will do worse to me, one way or another” 
“Depends, if you’re a good girl then it won’t exist any teasing. So come on… enlighten me. Tell me why everything is organized like this” 
“It’s a story. And that’s everything I’m gonna tell you right now” even with their light conversation, Lavignia felt like there was an elephant in the room, so she finally decided to talk about it “can we talk? You know… about what happened?” 
“After this, maybe?” 
“Why aren’t you upset with me? I thought I would have to get on my knees and beg for you to talk to me today” 
“You stayed. The moment you decided to stay, I decided to give you a little bit of my heart. But after the presentation, we can steal a bottle of champagne and go to the office upstairs” he took the bit of her hair that was loose and fixed behind her ear “about getting on your knees: you still can, darling” smiling he gave her his own glass “and there is my favorite embarrassed little girl. Now drink, Jeannie is going to the stage right now,  your presentation will start soon. 
The anticipation she felt about the promise of an “later” with Harry was only bigger than the wheels that were turning inside her stomach. Lovelace was getting up on the stage, god she was going to die. 
“Ladies, gentlemen and everything that is in between, good night and welcome to our new exhibition: Love and Sex” people were clapping and shouting “Before telling the story behind those pieces, I wanna thank Angelino, from Villaggio dell’amore, for making such a delicious dinner for us. Also I would like to thank Vanessa, she works for the gallery since 1975 and since she got here, we only got better the same goes to Harry “she said posting her glass towards Nessa then Harry “you not only came here and invested in our little gallery but you gave us so much more, most of the pieces from today wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. You had this idea and with our little help, we created this magic. So thank you” he raised his glass and say something in Italian that she couldn’t quite pinpoint with all the clapping. 
“Now, not long ago our family got a new member. She came here with her doubts but the moment she allowed the pleasure behind the art envolve her completely, she changed this exhibit for the better and today she’s going to be the one to talk to you. Graduated in Arts in Communication and my new adoptive daughter: Lavignia” 
Harry gave her a small pat on the but like saying “you’re up”. 
When Lavignia climbed the three steps to the little stage, she could feel like she was shaking. When she hugged Lovelace, she was shaking. The moment she saw all of those people faces, she was shaking. But when she saw his smile, she wasn’t shaking. He gave her peace of mind. 
“Thank you, Jeannie, for the lovely introduction” he gave her a not “Welcome to Love and Sex, today, we are going to tell you a little story” 
“From the start of the day, we have this huge Sunlight, a piece from Joan Semmel. Sunlight here isn’t only the signal of a new day that begins. When we talk about Love and Sex, we also talk about the discover of yourself. Know your pleasure, own your pleasure. Make love to your own body. You will never get the meaning of true love or sex, unless you become acquainted with yourself. Inside out. That’s what Sunlight is about: is the vision of the artist upon her own body. When she loves what she see and knows each part of her; what makes her quiver and long. When she makes her own body shake with love and sex is when she is ready to discover the world. Because the moment you understand yourself, you can understand others without any prejudice or pride. The moment you allow yourself is when you can finally deliver yourself to the fogs of pleasure, so well represented by Correggio’s Jupiter. Because here Jupiter is desire, is temptation, it’s the deliver. It’s when you embrace the feeling of bliss. That’s actually why we put gods and goodness together, because when you look at Aphrodite, you want to be inside the piece, you want to be this woman that not only represents beauty but also love. It’s when the pleasure you search it’s at its peak. Orgasm. High. Whatever word you might want to call it” 
Harry was looking at her with attentive eyes. A proud smile. A promise of an later. Everything about the way he looked at her made her feel anything but ashamed for the things she was saying. She had a speech prepared. But she remembers nothing of it because the moment she was on stage nothing else mattered beside her feelings towards the pieces, at the end everything is about feelings. 
“And then, we finally have The woman with the black stockings; because sometimes you have the chance to find people whose intensity matches yours and you just want that person. You dream and you desire, because now, sex is not only sex but is also love. You fuck at 10 am but have slow sex in the evening. Whatever this person wants, is theirs. You are opening yourself. Not only literally but metaphorically, as well. And you can only hope this person doesn’t get scared only because you’re so open” 
The whole moment she was talking, people were walking around the artworks. But now, they were all looking at her. Now was the time to close her explanation and kiss her man, the same man that was so attentively looking at her and helping her since the first day. 
“If love is a prose, sex is poetry. From all the artworks I just told you all about it, they all share the same theme but are shown in a different way. From the fog that encapsulates the young woman in Jupiter to the woman with her open legs showing to her lover that everything that is hers is also his. Giving him the privilege to see her in such a tender yet sensual way. Because love and sex are privileges. You can have one without the other, but together they are powerful. Is a privilege because you can’t find that in others so easily. The ones that can see what pleasure is all about, that there is no shame in longing, in wanting, in quivering for someone but also recognize than when you do it all of this with love: Is irreplaceable”
Looking around she saw people with tears in their eyes. Lavignia was so proud of herself. 
“Is a privilege because not everybody can find that. A few people spend all of their lives without knowing the true pleasures of the flesh and others spend their lives wanting to be loved, waiting for someone to fit inside of them just like a puzzle. But, sometimes, all you need is you. The world is quite boring but some people know how to make it colorful, just like those artist that shows us the most inherent sentiment of the human race with the most primal desire of the human race. 
This, is love and sex. Enjoy your night. Thank you.” 
Lavignia could hear the applause. Lovelace went to give her a kiss on the cheek, Nessa and Cathy were hugging her, welcoming her to the family. Journalist wanted to talk to to her. She could see cameras flashing and unknown faces congratulating her. But her focus was in looking for him, and she found him: at the top of the stairs, with a bottle on his hand, he gave her a nod, pointing toward the office door. Lovelace, that was standing right beside her told her to go. 
.
The office had baby blue and white walls. That was the first thing she noticed. There was a bathroom and a big window showing the hot Italian summer night. In the middle of the room was a desk and sitting on that same desk, there was a man picking at his nails with a champagne bottle next to him. When he heard the door, he gave her a smile and stood up. 
“I thought you were going to ditch me” 
“No. Just had a lot of people wanting to talk. Sorry” 
“Nothing to be sorry for” he took a step closer to her “can I just start by saying how I’m so fucking proud of you? You gave such a nice speech and you made the theme so much better than what we initially thought. Cheers to that” he gave her a small smile and the bottle. Taking from his hands and drinking a big gulp, the sweet taste of the champagne that had notes of cherry filled her tastes buds. She gave him the bottle back so he could drink and asked him: 
“What was the message you took from everything?” 
“That love and sex is to let yourself go. As you said, it’s a privilege… and what a nice privilege” they were standing in the middle of the room, the sound of the party downstairs was nothing compared to the silent conversation that was happening behind every word they exchanged. 
Harry thought Lavignia looked beautiful with the lights from the night sky illuminating her beautiful face. It was only then and the moon. Their only witness was the moon. He wanted to get a paper and write everything he was thinking. Maybe he would named Her and the moon and would say something among the lines: even the moon takes chances in betting that our love begins tonight. Strong or weak. Happy or sad. 
But they still had so much to talk. So Harry decided to begin: “why were you so harsh to judge? Not only me but everybody here, actually” 
“I think I was intimidated by you. You came telling about your weekend and I could only think ‘he has done more in three days that I have done my entire life. And I don’t know I think when you mix that with the unknown, I ended up misjudging you. More than once. Even when you were always so open to me” she got the champagne, drinking some more “I’m so ashamed for how I treated everybody here. You and Nessa and even Lovelace that first night, drinking everything and passing out.”
“You don’t have to be ashamed, we are family here. And family forgives, right?” he pinched her nose “And yeah, I understand what you mean, we tend to fear the unknown. Were you really discussed by me? And the fact I like a little bit of everything?”
“I think I was jealous,actually.  And I hated myself for the feeling you gave me since last Monday when I saw you walk through the door. But I don’t think I was actually discussed, you know? Not at you, at least. Maybe at myself. It was hard to understand all the feelings I was having  and also understand that feeling all of this is okay” 
“I thought you were beautiful, you know? I was captivated by you since the first day. And we were always on and off during the week. There were days I thought you were finally understanding us and days I was sad because you looked at us as if we were monsters... exept when you start talking about art. That’s beautiful. You lose yourself in it.” 
She was so closer to him now, playing with his rings. Harry noticed little lines on her forehead, like she was thinking about something. 
“You seem like you want to ask me something”
“Do you still want to get to know me? Or have I missed my chance?” He laughed at that. 
“Of course I wanna get to know you.”
In that moment, both of them let go a relieved breath. It was crazy to think about how much could change in one week. Lavignia always thought you could only feel like she was feeling was you know someone for years, but sometimes you have the privilege. 
It was a brand new start, the Sunlight was a reborn for her. And now they were on the same page. They were both open. They both wanted a real chance. 
“Will you be patient with me?” She asked him 
“Always.”
“When are you going to kiss me?”
“When I’m finally inside of you”
“And when is that?”
“In a few hours from now, when the party has died down a little bit”
“I was thinking you were going to kiss me now.”
“Well... we can do other stuff, you know?”
“Like the painting at your house? It’s quite sensual” 
“Look at you. How do you managed to be able to talk like this in just two days”
“You can’t  see it because of the lack of light but I’m blushing right now but... you are right. I had to discover myself. Actually one of your poems helped me, and all of those paintings, they created a good picture in my head.”
“Are you saying you got off to one of my poems?”
She nodded her head. Affirmative. 
“Which one?”
“The one about the fruits”
“Fuck... you are making real hard for me not to kiss you right now”
“Why don’t you?”
“I’m going to. Just not now. If I’m going to kiss you I’m going to do it right. Laying on my bed, with me inside of you. But it doesn’t mean I can’t do something to help you. I can see you’re squishing your thighs.” getting closer to her, he looked right inside her eyes, making her feel dizzy. 
“Tell me, darling. Ever heard about voyeurism?” Harry asked with his deep voice just above a whisper.
She was feeling dizzy. His perfume was increasing all of her nerves. The smell of vanilla marking her melt while the notes of  tobacco was igniting a fire within herself she never felt before”
He got closer again and grabbed her hips “I’m not going to ask again... ever hear of voyeurism?” 
She nodded her head. A negative. 
“Well...it’s when you have satisfaction of watching people engage in sexual situations” he said in a low whisper close to her ear, she was shaking. Harry was walking her backwards till her back was against the desk “I would love to see you hump this pretty table till you get lost in the feeling of a delicious high. And then I’ll take your wet panties from you and put it on my front pocket, close to the part that is aching the most to get to know you” he raised her to sit on the desk, opening her legs in a position her clit was resting on the cold and hard surface “then we are going to mingle. People are going to come to you and talk about how good your speech was. Cathy and Nessa are going to want to take photographs. Poor them, little they know my little girl is without any underwear, wet and waiting for us to get home” he started to help her move her hips on the desk. The first few waves of pleasure passing through her body like little flicks of energy “and then I’ll take you home and fuck you properly for the first time in your life, would you like that, darling?” She nodded her head and he gave her a peck in one of her eyelids “good. But, for all of that to happen I need you to do me a favor and come” 
“Won’t people hear me?” 
“And what’s the matter of that. We are not working anymore. We are enjoying a very sensual party, just like everyone else. And I can promise what we are doing here... everybody down there had done at least two times worse” she was hypnotized by him and his damn perfume “fuck it, right?” 
Fuck it 
Lavignia felt her hips moving more and more. Her toes were turning inside her boots. Harry was whispering dirty nothings close to her ear, leaving light kisses across all of her neck and chest. Holding her tights open, helping her move, sometimes moving his hips closer to her just so she could feel the promise of later. 
Harry let go her trembling body so he could watch her. Taking two steps back he admired her, her body was moving like an erotic dance, one of the straps of her dress was falling of her shoulder, showing him a little bit of the left breast that was covered by the thin fabric of the bra. And then… that was when he saw it: the white stockings. 
“Aren’t you a work of art.. I wish I could paint you right now, make Shiele quiver with jealousy that he didn’t get to capture you” 
She could feel her orgasm approaching, the little flicks of pleasure growing stronger the harder she rolled her hips on the hardwood table. 
“When we get home, I’m going to spread you open, I’m going to kiss and lick every single part of you. I might have to sell my soul just to not come to soon because my body it’s so hot for you. So so hot. Come on, little darling. Come for me” 
And she came.
 Like an avalanche starting from between her legs and making her whole body treble, forming incoherent words and losing its strength. But before she could fall off the desk, his body was back, holding her close and telling her to breath. Taking care of her. 
When she came down completely of her high he took her panties off. She was wide eyes when he smelled and said to himself something among the lines of “delicious”. 
This was only the start of tonight.
.
The wind was hitting Lavignia in the face, getting closer to his neck. His Harley was running around the Italian streets. She no longer felt ashamed for the thoughts going round her head in comparison to their first ride together. 
After their little encounter at the office they went downstairs holding hands. Getting funny looks and a thumbs up from Nessa and Cathy and a smile from Lovelace. 
They danced with people, looked at all of the artwork together for the billionth time, Harry introduced her to a designer that was at the opening and a few other people. When they noticed it was close to 2 am and people were leaving. 
They stayed to help to dismount the stage and be sure nothing happened to the pieces but Lovelace told them to go home. 
So now it was 3 am and Lavignia was taking advantages of her position behind Harry to stuck her nose in his hair and take in his smell. Maybe she needed to see a doctor. She was addicted to his perfume. 
When they finally reached his place, Harry gave her his key to open a little gate so he could park the motorcycle. She noticed that he had a very yellow BMW. 
“Not that I don’t like the Harley but how come you never drive this beauty?” 
“The gallery is so close from my place that I don’t see a reason why. But, I’ll take you for a ride anyday. How ‘bout that?”
She nodded her head while still looking at the car but the moment Harry touched her back, indicating to go in through the backdoor, she stopped everything to follow him. 
They were back to the black and white kitchen. Harry took of his white blazer, now only with the white tank top and the trousers. She could finally see his tattoos now. The naked mermaid, the ship. Lavignia was so hypnotized by him that she didn’t move from the door. 
“See something that you like, darling?” He asked putting the pink glasses on the table together with his blazer. Lavignia didn’t answer anything, closing the door, she walked towards him. Taking off her shoes and putting her purse on the table as well. 
“Can I get you anything?” He asked “some wine” she hugged his middle and nodded her head in a negative “or maybe water? Something to eat?” She noticed his smirk, he was living to tease her, but it was a week long teasing “little darling, if you don’t say anything I’m just going to keep asking. Put those pretty red lips up to good use and tell me what you want” 
“You made me a promise early tonight…” 
“Hey, come on… to be shy on me now” he was so close, the heat of his body could be felt in her back, he was closer and closer till… oh, he was already hard? 
“You said you were going to kiss me…” 
“I was going to kiss when…” 
“You…” she could do it, she could say it “when you are finally inside of me” 
“That’s my girl, come up”
He lead her towards the stairs. Lavignia wanted to see every artwork he had around the house but she was too focused on him (and his damn perfume). Soon enough they were in front of a dark wood door. 
His room had light pink walls, tall floor to ceiling windows and in the middle of the room a huge bed with a canopy. He told her to feel comfortable and she went to sit on the bed with her feet barely touching the ground. 
“Don’t you look pristine sitting all straight and proper. You can get more comfortable darling, I swear the bed isn’t going to bite you” 
He was kneeling in front of her, with both arms at each side of her body. 
“Why are you on your knees?” 
“Because I’m going to pray”
“I didn’t know people prayed before having sex” she joked
“Darling you can’t be serious”  she laughed and he was stuck admiring her but then she stopped at looked at the painting he had on the wall 
“Is that the 1910 painting by Luigi Russollo?” 
“Yeah, I like the way he uses his synesthesia to make the most sensual paintings” he kissed her cheekbones and started making his way down her neck, using his hands to fiddle with her dress. But he wasn’t done yet, we wanted to make her blush a little more “so… can I begging my prayer?” 
When she nodded her head he attacked her left breast over the dress, she was lightly moaning and he was getting dizzy. She was the best type of drug, every little thing seemed to me a new feeling for her and he wanted to watch her while she discovered more and more of the pleasures of the flash. 
“It’s too hot” she said is a whisper 
“Can I take of your dress?” Giving him a small yes, she helped him take of her dress, now, only in her bras and white stocking. She looked like a goodness, deserving its place with next with the Aphrodite back in the gallery. 
Harry used his hands to make her lay and opened her legs. He they started to kiss her legs, going up to the inside of her thigh, when she could feel his breath, he went to her other leg and made the same path. 
When he felt like both of her legs were full of loving,  he kissed just above her little point of pleasure, just to see how she would react. She whispered a little “stay” and he couldn’t wait anymore, he has to pray, he couldn’t delay it anymore so he just gave a full lick from her opening to her mound. Playing with her labia but never touching her clit, he wanted her swollen for him. Anxious for his lips, longing for his cock. 
Using the tip of his fingers, he was playing with her opening, but never actually penetrating her. When he thought she was getting loud enough, he started to suck at her clit the same moment his middle finger entered her. Using a come here motion, he found the button inside of her. 
Lavignia felt like she was in heaven, she was being adored by this man’s mouth and hands. She wanted more, she needed more. Trying to move her hips towards his mouth to get an even better feeling. 
Normally, Harry would hold the person down, but Lavignia looked like an angel and she had such a sweet taste. He just couldn’t so he gave her everything he could and let her take anything she wanted from his mouth and fingers. 
It didn’t take long till she was a trembling mess. Her release was sweet like honey and the most enjoyable thing to watch. 
While she was calming down from her high, Harry got up and took of his shirt, he was sweating too much. Then he help her up the bed and started to kiss her eyelids and comp his finger through her hair. 
“Hi” she said 
“Hey” he gave her a peck on the tip of her nose “do you want anything? Maybe water?” 
“No” she used her leg to press the tent that was appearing in his crotch area “I want what you promised me”
“Are you sure? We can do it tomorrow, I don’t mind if you’re tired. You came pretty hard” 
“Please, I want to feel you” 
“Okay” 
He was hers. Anything she wanted, he would give to her. So, her wish was his command. He stood on his knees and opened his pants never taking his eyes off of her. 
Lavignia was feeling her body burn so much. She was close to the point of hyperventilating, the moment she saw his member spread free. 
“No underwear?” 
“It gets in the way” 
When they were both fully naked (with the exception of her white stocking, “this one stays” he told her) and he was on top of her, he took one of her hands and asked if she has done that before. 
“A few times, almost five years ago” 
“I’ll go slow. Please, hold my hand and tell me if it hurts too badly” 
When she nodded, Harry got hold of himself and started to massage her with it, her clit, her labia, trying to get himself wet with her moisture. That’s when he remembered “on that nightstand I have a lube, it’s water based and smells like orange. Would you mind if I used a bit on both of us? It might help to ease myself into you” 
“Sure” she said with har breath starting to pick up again. So Harry for the bottle and warned her it might be a bit cold. 
Using the gel with both of his fingers, he got in easy, making the same come here movements and sliding his finger out with a “pop” sound. 
When he went to pass on his own dick, she stopped him and with a shy voice asked if she could do it for him. And he said yes. 
So she used both of her hands to be able to get his entire shaft and massaged him, up and down, squeezing when she got to the base and using the top of her finger when it was the head, all following his instructions. 
“Stop” he told her “if you continue I’ll come before we even start and I don’t think I can’t handle anymore” 
So, they were back to the same position as before, he on top of her, both of her legs were intertwined with his, his left hand on her right hand and they mouths finally close to each other.
When he started to enter her, she felt a small burn. It wasnt bad, but she isn’t didn’t knew if it was good. He was slowly easing himself and after a while she decided that it was a good type of burn. 
When Harry was all the way in he finally said: “I’m gonna kiss you now, okay?” 
It was a weird first kiss, but it was perfect. He was inside of her in more ways than he could explain. People say that when you have sex, even if it’s a one night stand, your essence connects with person, and they were connecting in a way that it was rare in any galaxy. 
Then he started to move, painfully slow, they didn’t have anywhere to go, that was no reason to rush. 
“You know, it’s not going to be good for my ego if I come too soon” he told her 
“After a week of reading I was hope for you to blow my mind not to blow your shot too soon” 
“Heeeet, that’s mean” 
He was loving it, he was having sex with the most amazing girl and they were still able to have that banter he loved so much. God, he was going to fall in love with her. He could feel it. 
After that, they let their bodies to the talking. She was moaning and so was he. It was sweet. It was hot. It was everything love and sex is all about. 
When they were done, Harry got them water from the kitchen and a banana. Then she wanted to do it again, so they did it, this time against the bedpost. When they were done, they talked for hours, finally getting to know each other. They feel asleep the sun was already high in the sky and there wasn’t any worry  or shame for her neither any pain for him. They were cured and were ready to begin another journey, this time with one another, another day, another sunlight. 
Day 7: a balcony in Italy https://www.saatchiart.com/art/Paintings-Bedroom-Balcony-In-Italy/1131921/4490457/view
She woke up alone inside the bed, completely naked with the exception of the satin sheets. There was a single sunflower resting on top of the tiny desk next to the bed with a simple paper that read: 
Good morning, bunny 
Get out of the room and take a left. You will find a round wooden stairs that will lead you to the balcony. I’m waiting you for breakfast. 
Getting a purple robe that smelled just like Harry she went upstairs, finding a suspended garden with all types of flowers she could think. There was an old table  that looked from 1930, on top of the same table there was fruits and pancakes. The sunlight was shining from the big balcony, letting the Italian summer fill their lungs and eyes. 
She found Harry sitting  on one of the chairs, wearing a green and white striped shirt with washed blue jeans. She could see he had shaven because there was no scruff but his mustache was still there.  Just from looking at it she feels a chill running down from her back till it reaches her most private parts at the memory of the same mustache passing across all of her body in his always there teasing manner. 
Harry didn’t see Lav at first, but he did listened to her footsteps. Writing something in his journal, not touching his food. Waiting for her. 
“You know... how long are you planning on staring at me? Should I get naked to make it better for you?” He said with a smile on his face, finally looking at her with a shine inside his eyes. One that hasn’t left since they made up yesterday. 
“Sorry I didn’t...”
“Bunny you can stare at me all you want. But I bet you’re hungry, so why don’t you come here and eat with me?”
Lavignia started to walk towards Harry but he stopped her: 
“Naked” that made her pause all of her movements. “Take of your robe love, and come and sit on my lap. Let’s eat together, shall we? I wanna be close to you” Messing with her tangled curls she looked around and at the balcony: what if someone sees me? 
But it only took one look at Harry to know that there is no problem because even if someone sees them: fuck it, right? Isn’t that what she learned from this crazy week?
So she took off her robe, trying to look Harry in the eyes, no matter how much she wanted to look at the ground. Walking towards him, she won a beautiful smile as a present for her courage. 
Now, on his lap, with her back against his front, she relaxed. Maybe was his smell - the fant reminder of the perfume and sex - or the way he kissed the back of her neck and passed his hands through her hair. 
“So what do you want?  We have coffee,orange juice. Bread and eggs. Pancakes and fruits.” 
“Isn’t a bit late to be eating breakfast? It’s almost 3 pm” 
“I mean... we did go to bed almost 8 am. And I see there is nothing bad with having breakfast for lunch” 
With that Harry served her first (she wanted strawberries and pancakes) and then choose a slide of watermelon to start his meal - god knows how much they needed to eat after the night rolling around the bed. 
“How did you have the time to make such a big breakfast?” 
“Oh, I only made the pancakes” he said using his free hand to caress her right thigh “was planning on getting you breakfast in bed, and all of that. You know how smitten I am with you, bunny” he gave her a pitch on the cheek but continued talking: “But Lovelace sent this big breakfast as a thank you for the success that was the opening night yesterday. So I thought: change of plans. Organized everything here and left the note for you. But it didn’t take long because I don’t think I waited more than 20 minutes till you showed up using the robe even if I was very clear that you should come naked” he said giving her a funny look, pretending to be disappointed. 
“Well... I don’t see you being naked” 
“That can be arranged in 30 seconds, if you want” 
She laughed and they continued to eat, the only sounds they could listen was the birds and the faint radio from someone outside, playing a romantic yet cheesy Italian song none of them ever heard. 
Harry was using his free hand to tease her. Pressing his leg upon her mound. She was getting wet, feeling the heat of June so much hotter than actually way,  like she was inside a stove. 
“So, is here that you and your...” Lavignia was curious about his miscellany in bed, but she didn’t want him to feel mad or think she was jealous, she was just curious “guests “yeah, she choose the right word “here to refresh?” 
Harry laughed: “my guests never actually even been here or my bedroom” 
“Oh, so I’m different from all of them?” 
Harry turned her around on his lap,  with both of her legs each side of his waist. He took her head in both hands with a serious look: 
“From the moment I saw you I was captivated. When I noticed how different you were I was so afraid you wouldn’t give me a chance because I have had my fair share of broken heart: from being cheated on to people who just said I can’t imagine the father of my children dressing the way you do all of that hurts, you know? I always give everything of me to the world but I never see the return of something that could be meaningful. And I think you mean something. I know you for only a week but there is a piece of me that wants to get to know you, fuck, even if you didn’t wanted to try and open up for life I would still find a way to be in your life either way. There is something inside those honey colored eyes that made me get so lost inside of them that I started to talk so much nonsense the day we met” he shook his head in a sign of denial “ I know I am a bit out of the usual guy but the first thing you heard from me was about a three way I had just the weekend before, that is no way to met someone you would wanna take out on a date, right” 
“No. I was intimidated. I still am. There is so much I don’t know about the world and I only found out when I walked through that gallery door.” 
“I think we balance each other and I can’t wait to figure it out more of us. If you want” 
“I would like that” 
“So, can I take you out on a date?” 
“Isn’t this a date?” 
“No, I wanna proper wine and dine you. Maybe take you to the movies. Fleetwood Mac is coming to Rome next month, we can have a little weekend getaway together” 
“Okay. You can take me on a date” 
He kissed her with fire in his soul after this. He was so used to being used just for his body or people with the dream of being one of his muses. And now he finally had a chance to start something amazing with this shy girl who is thrust so much in him. 
“Good. Now that is settled, I wanna try something.” 
He raised her up to her feet, opening his pants just enough to free his semi erect cock: “come and sit on me” 
She looked at him with questioning in his eyes: “what about breakfast?” 
“We are going to eat breakfast, come on” and with that she carefully sat on him. Both of them growling. 
He took her plate and gave her a bite of the pancake. Everything seemed surreal for her: he was growing bigger inside of her and she was getting wetter. Every time she tried to move to get a bit of friction he would stop her. So there was only one thing for her to do: accept the food in her mouth and watch when he took bites of his watermelon looking at her. There was just something so erotic about everything. 
“You know” Lavignia said when they were done and Harry rested their plate on the table “you are stuffing me full both ways right now” with that joke they started to laugh together 
“One week ago you wouldn’t say this” Harry noted “I’m proud of you bunny. So proud that I’m going to give you a reward. 
She looked at him, questioning. But he just took his hand and tapped her lips saying: 
“Open up” she opened her mouth “tongue out” 
And he did what she wasn’t expecting but it wasn’t a surprise at all: he sucked her to the inside of his mouth. Using his right hand to pull her hair while the other was getting down her body. 
“Tastes just like strawberries, so fitting for this summer evening” He said before going in for more. 
They started to kiss and his fingers were playing lightly with her clit. Never giving the pleasure necessary but always there... remembering her of the feeling of him inside and outside of her. 
The more they kissed faster he would move his hand in her intimate parts while the other was manhandling her, with a strong grip on her hair, she couldn’t move. She was completely at his mercy. 
When they both couldn’t take it anymore, Harry got hold of her hips, lifting her up and slamming her down his body, sending sparks through both of their bodies. 
In that moment, she was stuck with the feeling of him he was the only thing that mattered. If someone could see them from the balcony: so be it. Even being on top, he was the one making her move. She couldn’t wait till the day she’d have the courage to be the one in charge. 
“I’m not gonna last long” said Harry “sorry” 
“It’s okay...” she said moaning. She was close to coming but from the sounds and the beating of Harry’s heart against her own: he was closer. Following her instinct she started to roll her hips every time he slammed her down, biting his neck and moaning in his ear: just for him. 
It didn’t take long till Harry’s movements got a bit out rhythm so she said: “fill me up, come on. I need to feel you, to see you” 
Harry was a goner. Closing his eyes and opening his mouth. He looked like an angel, if angels could be naughty as him. 
When he opened his eyes, there was this adoration inside the way he looked at her. It was so loving that Lavignia said a little “oh” when he simply got up with her on his lap,used his hand to get whatever was on his way and her threw her on the desk, in the middle of the food, books, flowers. 
He got down on his knees, looked at her through hooded eyes, mouth close to where she needed him the most and said: “second breakfast”
And third. 
And forth. 
The end
Oh, God, this was almost one moth of work and I’m so glad it all turned out just like I wanted, but first, i need to thank someone.
This fic exists thanks to the book “Woman, myth and godness”, it’s a book about the represetation of the woman inside arts, literature. It was how I found out about Sunlight, and fell in love with the concept.
And last but not least: I decided to use an OC because she had such a strong personality I needed to give her a name. If anyone is curious the faceclaim is a south american singer from the 70s called Gal Costa, so yaaay for poc charecter.
Anyway, I hope you guys like it!
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May 4
Camila Cabello Takes Control: How the Pop Star Overcomes Anxiety and Calls the Shots in Her Career
Camila Cabello knows a thing or two about idol worship. As a singer who got her launch on a television show — the short-lived U.S. version of “The X Factor” — she’s been in the spotlight for the better part of a decade. And even if fame had been a goal (spoiler alert: it wasn’t), career trumps notoriety, and family, or “Familia,” as her third studio album is aptly named, comes first.
“All the people that you put on a pedestal are having nervous breakdowns,” says Cabello matter-of-factly. “It’s just the human condition.”
Where her life is concerned, at this point in time, confidence is key. So it’s no surprise that she’s placed importance on being decisive. Leaving behind the musical restrictions of her past, she has the track record to allow herself such liberties — Cabello’s hits include 2017’s “Havana,” which has been streamed in the U.S. nearly 41 million times, and 2019’s “Señorita” (featuring her ex, superstar pop singer Shawn Mendes), with 39 million streams, according to entertainment analytics company Luminate.
“Before, with the first couple of albums, I’d be like, ‘What do you think? What do you think?’ and now I don’t send my music to that many people anymore,” she says. “Like, it doesn’t matter if you love it. If I hate it, why am I out there promoting it?”
The difference between her first and her latest release? Cabello now knows there is no right way to say no. The real trick, divulges the Cuban-born singer, “is to just say it.”
“If I can’t stand behind [a song] and want to perform it, let’s not put it out, because it’s just going to turn into some weird thing where I never wanna fucking sing it again, and it’s all because I didn’t listen to myself,” she says.
Although it’s not obvious from such swagger, “Familia” sees Cabello at her most grateful — appreciative of her team, her supporters and the Latin-infused rhythms of her roots. Returning to the familiar sounds of her childhood helped the 25-year-old find healing.
Her approach involved taking the wheel on how and with whom she worked. She tapped artists Maria Becerra and Willow Smith to incorporate the solace of sisterhood “and to explore one another’s experiences,” she says, and steer her lyrics of heartbreak and self-doubt. Cabello also recruited repeat collaborator Ed Sheeran, who is someone she knew she “could kick it with” but also a music maker that she could depend on to keep the focus in creating a cohesive album, as opposed to a collection of songs. The pair’s efforts yielded lead single “Bam Bam,” a breakup song that pulls stylistic influence from Celia Cruz and Marc Anthony — two of Latin America’s most respected artists — and has the uncanny ability to make you want to dance and cry.
“Ed has been a good friend for a long time and is somebody I super respect as a songwriter,” says Cabello. “He’s always looking for the best idea [and] doesn’t really beat around the bush — he’s super direct, and I’m like that too. There’s no ego, which is the best way to work.”
Although publicly opening up about heartbreak is in its own way excruciating, Cabello says she was able to muster emotional bravery in the vocal booth. “I went in and just kind of talked about my anxiety,” she explains. “My collaborators [would ask], ‘What was this line about?’ I was like, ‘Eeek! I only talk about this with my therapist and, like, my mom.’”
Eventually, the anxiety that came with telling her truth eased as the music took shape with what the artist calls her “dream team.” She says of “Familia” co-producers Ricky Reed and Scott Harris, “Anytime I would open up to them, I’d be like, ‘I felt insecure about this today,’ and they would respond like, ‘You’re talking that real shit!’”
That “real shit” included a public (and amicable) breakup with Mendes, but her heart also goes out to others. Wellness has long been top of mind for Cabello, and she’s shared that belief as an advocate for mental health, partnering with Movement Voter Fund to launch the Healing Justice Project — an initiative that provides mental health and wellness resources to youth activists in an effort to break intergenerational trauma and violence.
Asked to describe the most important lesson she’s learned these past few years, when she weathered a pandemic and out came “Familia,” Cabello sums it up in one word: “integrity.” Applying the “no ego” formula to almost every aspect of her life, she says fans will continue to get to know her “most authentic self” on future projects — “and that doesn’t mean it all has to be positive music. I want to explore darker parts of [the] psyche and have that be a healing thing.”
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keramalusundeep · 4 years
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THE RAINBOW MATRIMONY
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Meet the octogenarians – Jack Evans and George Harris. They have been together in love for the better of the latter half of the last century to this moment. 54 years.
On Friday, June 26, when the Supreme Court announced that the rainbow flag can be waved and hoisted at all lengths and breaths in the United States of America, Jack and George became the first gay couple to be married in the state of Texas.
“Ten years ago, this was not even imaginable. Had little hope it would ever come to Texas, still shocked that Texas is allowing it today,” An elated and emotional Jack Evans said.
Texas was one among the dozen or so states in the US that remained barren and dry without a wink of prospect from the clouds of law, concerning the legalisation of same-sex marriage. However, after last Friday, the weather has changed for the better.
Genji Monogatari (Tale of Genji), often branded as the world’s first novel, illustrates eccentric plots of the erotic encounters of Genji, the son of an emperor, who, in one of the scenes sleeps with his concubine’s brother. Genji also felt that the boy was sexually more pleasing than his sister. Ouch (for the concubine)!
Literal renditions from official acknowledgements go as far back as the 11th century when it comes to purporting the reality shows of predominant homosexuality in the computational phylogeny of human society.
Religions, mostly, have always brandished a hard whip against the sexual discretion of men and women, who have taken refuge in their own gender.
“A man shall not lie with another man as he would with a woman, it is an abomination.” – Torah
Christianity, being pronounced with different syllables of denominations has mixed opinions. On one hand they classify homosexual acts as sinful. While, equally, the other hand has no qualms to accept same-sex relationships as “morally acceptable”.
“Do you approach males among the worlds and leave what your Lord had created for you as mates? But you are a people transgressing.” – Quran, Surah 26
Hindu temples, such as Khajuraho and Padhlavi endorse adventurous orgies of both heterosexual and homosexual natures alike as one would endorse fish magnets on a refrigerator.
According to Pew Global Attitudes Project in 2013, homosexuality is broadly accepted in North America, European Union, Latin America, Asia and Russia. The research discovered that the general average, in the richest countries where the religious gravity was relatively low, was tolerant and accepting of same-sex relationships. Age is also an influencer here. Younger respondents were seen to be more liberal than the older ones. Also, women were found to be less homophobic than men.
When it doesn’t harm anyone or cause any evil, acceptance is the most profound form of humanness.
Padma Iyer, who wanted nothing but the best for her son, placed an ad in a national newspaper, which allegedly is the first gay matrimonial ad to have appeared in mainstream media in India – “Seeking 25-40, Well Placed, Animal-Loving Vegetarian GROOM for my SON (36 5’11”) who works with an NGO. Caste No Bar (Though IYER preferred)”.
In one of her fund-raiser campaigns for equality, Ms Iyer says, “Sexuality is not a choice. Homophobia is.”
The social media has not been sitting idle on the sidewalks either. Facebook, with its pro-gay photo filter which colours your profile picture in rainbow with a click, is apparent to understand the importance of acceptance to an acceptance. A perfect way to acknowledge legislation.
Gay couples who are susceptible to social and moral wounds inflicted by their communities and countries need more than just a legal nod. They need a genuine hug from the hearts of the people they are surrounded by.
It has so happened that supporting a cause has come to be seen as a sign of progress. Be it the legalisation of marijuana or same-sex marriage. When there is a sizeable community or a pod of population that wants the rights for something, the ones supporting it are seen as advanced and in time or way ahead of their time. And the ones hostile are seen as backward and regressive.
Russia and the Arab world have maintained less enthusiasm toward the legalisation of same-sex marriage or for that matter even the pro-gay photo filter from Facebook.
Ahmad Abd-Rabbuh, an Egyptian political science professor said that gay marriage “is not in harmony with society and culture.”
Anna Koterinikova, a Russian, after changing her profile picture to a rainbow flag wrote, “Sorry! I’m straight and Russian but I’m not a homophobe!”
Muna Iraqi, Egyptian TV presenter gave his opinion, “I support people’s right to love freely, without any persecution.”
Gays are not from out of space. They are from here. Just as you and me are. That’s why, what we think about them matters in how they are able to think about themselves. If not individually, then collectively.
Speaking on last week’s landmark Supreme Court judgement, Modern Family’s Jesse Tyler Ferguson, who plays Mitchell Pritchett – a gay lawyer, father, and son in the hit television series says that the show has played a great deal in changing the perceptions of gay couples in general. Jesse is gay in real life as well.
Pope Francis, in July 2013, when asked about same-sex relationships, said, “if a homosexual person is of good will and is in search of God, I am no one to judge. It is not right to interfere spiritually in the life of a person.”
He further adds, “Tell me, when God looks at a gay person, does he endorse the existence of this person with love, or reject and condemn this person? We must always consider the person. Here we enter into the mystery of the human being. In life, God accompanies persons, and we must accompany them, starting from their situation. It is necessary to accompany them with mercy.”
I believe that this world is one big modern family. A family accepts its people for who they really are. The ability to maintain discernment toward one’s discretion and prerogative. Who are we to judge a verdict already pre-allotted by nature? We are famous because of our human nature. It takes one preposition to make us inhuman. Make us infamous. The ‘in’. It is that time now to put the ‘in’ in the inn of the bygones and position our prepositions toward the positioning of a free disposition.
After all, our world is supposed to be full of sunshine and rainbows. Isn’t it?
Photo by Sharon McCutcheon
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progressiveparty · 5 years
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The Democratic Office Boy Machine
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A new Progressive party that can command decency on the part of their candidates will be coming, whether it is going to be a revamped Democratic party or something else remains to be seen. Of course the DNC will do it again. The fact that anyone considers that they will play fair is hopelessly out of touch with their history. They will try to thwart the will of their voters through continued reliance on second vote superdelegates and the use of slanted support that will be extended to corporate-friendly candidates. They did it the last time around, and less known…they did it back in 1944 (more about this later). The only way this will stop is through a fear of becoming completely irrelevant and going the way of the Whigs. A new Progressive party that can command decency on the part of their candidates will be coming, whether it is going to be a revamped Democratic party or something else remains to be seen. My guess is the Democrats will try to steal the primary again for their corporate candidate who will lose, and the DNC will become bankrupt (fiscally after the moral) and a new party will have to rise. If the fascism continues on the right from a blown opportunity by the Democrats, these predictions become more weighted with terrifying possibilities. A new Progressive party that can command decency on the part of their candidates will be coming, whether it is going to be a revamped Democratic party or something else remains to be seen. Henry Wallace (no relation that I know of) was a bit of an anomaly. He was a left- leaning Iowa boy who hated imperialism. He absolutely loathed the British Empire and its abuses. He was able to understand the needs of and advance the rights of workers. He even went against the United Fruit mode of intervention in Latin America and was able to find common ground with the people there, all without the use of right-wing juntas. This may be a bit of a simplification, but overall, Henry Wallace was a friend to the working men and women across the globe. He served as FDR’s vice president until a fateful convention in 1944. He had the backing of the voters—they appreciated that he had done more in that vice president’s office than others before him and they felt he had a kinship with them—that he would work in their favor. He was not popular with Southern conservative politicians or the corporate factions and they wanted nothing of him and his common man appeal. FDR made overtures and indicated that he was still behind Wallace being his vice president. Eleanor was a staunch supporter as well…but whether FDR was simply too ill by that time to exert his will or just plain feckless regarding Wallace, the Pendergast political machine of out Kansas City was able to insert their “office boy” as the vice president.
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Henry Wallace Truman was a haberdasher from Kansas City (failed haberdasher, actually) and he came across the corrupt Pendergast group through that connection. Suits for brutes, I guess. Truman was encouraged to go into politics by the Pendergast political influencers and that he did, owing his start to this machine. It sounds like Truman struggled with the alliance having physical symptoms of stress from a bit of cognitive dissonance, but he never did anything that truly rocked their boat or made him a less of a favored candidate in their eyes. Truman was a natural to be handed the vice president slot in 1944 as he looked to be the office boy of choice for the disparate factions that were not representing the progressive appeal of voters. These things have consequences. We are now in an “anything but Trump” era. Older Democrats would probably vote for an Amazon delivery drone if it had the mark of the DNC on it in the general election because it feels right to vote against the melon-hued Mussolini. Trump is, of course, that calamitous of a human, but this “lesser evil” thing ends up with an effect. We need to not get to that point where your choice is not simply death by a malignant cancer like Trump versus a slow descent through dysentery, offered up by a centrist Democrat. But back to Wallace. By August of 1945, it was clear that Japan had lost the war. The common refrain is that atomic bombs were dropped on two civilian cities because the US “was going to have to send our boys to invade”. But is this true? A land that had already lost needed to be invaded and/or nuclear bombed right away? What happened to a little patience and isolation? Internal Japanese factions would get sick of the isolation and most likely force a surrender, wanting to join the world again. They weren’t a threat to the US by that time. But even discussing this around the “greatest generation” members is dangerous. I know by experience. I had a friend in high school who wrote an opinion paper stating the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki were war crimes. My parents didn’t even want her to come over to visit after they heard that! Strong feelings aside, there is even stronger indication that the real purpose of dropping the bombs was to scare Uncle Joe Stalin shitless with the death that could be meted out by the US. What would have been the harm to wait a bit for a full surrender? At least try for that? America solves everything with violence, or in this case violent science. The choice is framed as this: atomic bombs or every young man in America will be killed by Japanese grannies on their shore with weapons. This jingoistic framing should be a red flag to anyone that the truth is probably going to be a bit more nuanced.  Illogical horror descriptions that are built to scare should be analyzed for veracity. (Babies being thrown out of incubators etc.). Not that the world doesn’t have ample evil for certain, but don’t get played is what I’m saying. They are masters at this and always have been. Manufactured consent and all. Another consideration: anyone who can think of the atomic bombing in sterile ways should be forced to read the accounts from survivors. But ”they” attacked Pearl Harbor…I didn’t sodomize anyone at Abu Ghraib, but that line of thought brings you to retribution in ways you might not want to consider when you begin to view all civilians as being directly responsible for the actions of their “leaders” or their military. This is why old school anarchy considerations feel like common sense truth to me. How can you be responsible for what a psychopathic “leader” did? I wasn’t asked for my feedback. Not to mention a war that was for all purposes over—well, that’s the time these bombs were dropped! My circuitous thought is this: Truman was the office boy to do it. If Wallace had been vice president, then he would have been our subsequent president when FDR died.  I don’t know what the end result would have been, but I have a hunch he wouldn’t have dropped bombs to scare someone. Patience and good judgment might have ruled the day. So the results would have been very different for the citizens of the US, multiple Japanese civilians, as well as perhaps not staining the US as the only nation to own that quote : “Now I am become death, the destroyer of worlds” as  Oppenheimer famously repeated from the Bhagavad Gita . You can’t see yourself as the paragon of goodness when you knee-jerk use nuclear fission to solve your problems. So we are pretty far down the destroyer of worlds path. Regime change are US. A drastic realignment is necessary. Characters like Biden and Cop Harris won’t cut it, and those types are the DNC’s favored candidates. When Warren becomes favored, you know her sell-out with the Sith lords is complete. These things sound like petty squabbles over a group of similars until you think about Strummer’s pregnant mention of an unwritten future. What consequences will come from the continued use of corporate office boys/girls for the job? Can we write a future that is better, that is decent? There are a lot of individuals like me who find Bernie Sanders to be a compromise, not far enough to the left. But even his middle-of-the-road-in-Europe notions scare the crap out of the machinery. I was furious last time that he didn’t simply run as a third-party candidate. We won’t survive much more of this nonsense. The threats of being a spoiler…well I say spoil it all. It’s rancid. That milk you put back in the fridge that smells isn’t going to rehabilitate itself. Trump won anyway–even with Bernie hitting the road for Clinton last time. And don’t get me started about her. Are they even trying to win? She was needlessly caustic, much like Biden. He has a huge problem with younger voters, so he goes on the road and when he is asked about environmental concerns by a young voter, he says “Look at my record, CHILD!” to an adult woman! Is he even trying at all? Is he just campaigning so he can smell new shampoos around the country? I don’t have high hopes that Bernie will fight back this time when they screw him over again. I hope I’m wrong or at least I hope his campaign leaves the threat of it there to create a known moral hazard for the DNC if this is the path they take. The younger voters are showing that they are basically a bit more decent than the “pragmatic” Boomers and X’ers. There is evidence that they have…empathy. I am so relieved by this and feel this is an indication that a progressive party can win because they have some massive numbers they could draw from. And there are X’ers like me as well as Boomers who aren’t totally evil. We kind of want the world to survive.  We will be there for this change. The tepid centrist Democrats will not help with this imperative. Considering all this though, it doesn’t seem unreasonable to believe that to many corporate/centrist Dems, a loss to Trump is preferable to ceding to the progressive arm of the party. This is a moment like the situation with Wallace in 1944. If the party can’t get rid of things like superdelegates (the Republicans have even done that!) and they continue to use media connections to ignore the true state of support that candidates have (oh, oh, the excitement for Biden is palpable per CNN)…well, the party will vanish and sadly our descent into Republican-style fascism will probably accelerate without a needed safety valve. A true change in the Democratic party would be required, a change to reflect the views of all the adults out there who came of age after things quit being better than their parents had it. A tree does get stronger in the wind (if it survives) and perhaps things were just too easy to breed strength for some of those with comfortable health care and a guaranteed retirement. It will take some strength of character for those older Americans to care about those coming after them and call for change accordingly even if they personally feel they are safe. But ultimately their support will not be required, time will march forward with or without them.  The decent thing to do is be part of the change. The younger generations are especially suffering at the hands of unfettered capitalism. Our globe is even suffering. The middling better than Trump Obama types will not cut it. They will simply slow the descent and make it more comfortable for the well-heeled older centrists on the way down. They might be less overtly embarrassing than Trump, but that’s not enough, My elderly malignant narcissist mother who endorses aggressive nudity is less embarrassing than Trump. That’s a low bar. What we have now, well–this is not just, and this is not good. To only care about your 401 K but not care about someone else’s DKA is a sign of being a shitty person (explainer: DKA is Diabetic Ketoacidosis. It’s what you get when you can’t afford your fucking insulin and it is killing young Type 1 diabetics as we speak). But Sanders can’t just bow down to Biden or Warren if that is who the machinery wants for the office position when the time comes. A new party and movement needs to be built at that moment with no hesitation because you can’t fight fascism and climate destruction with polite adherence to rules set up to keep you down. This Piece Originally Appeared in LA Progressive Read the full article
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For the pairing/month match up how about jecourferre in October?
Courferre in October! (This got long, so get ready to keep reading)
There are two very important parts of October that need to be paid attention to, because Courfeyrac and Combeferre are two very different, but blindingly complementary people. 
Okay, so we all know Combeferre is a ghost man. The man loves him some ghosts. But the thing that no one really anticipated was how Combeferre’s semester abroad would affect him.
Ferre went to America for the fall semester of the year before, and while it was excruciating for him to be away for all the Amis, he did learn some good old fashioned American customs. Namely, fucking Halloween.
“Courf, I’ve been there. I’ve seen it. The Americans don’t get many things right, but Courf, they do Halloween right.” 
Courfeyrac couldn’t help but laugh at his boyfriend. “Ferre, my beautiful bespectacled man, I have not seen that amount of earnestness since you told me you were in love with me.”
Ferre just grinned and pulled his boyfriend in for a kiss. “I do love you. And I fucking love Halloween. And we’re doing it.”
Well, Courf wasn’t one to turn down a fun time, and with this amount of enthusiasm coming from Combeferre about something that involved a party, a fun time was ensured. And he was so definitely getting laid.
Combeferre as usual reserved the backroom of the Musain for the party, made sure that all of his friends knew about it, and were coming, and really honestly spent too much time on the couples costume he planned on him and Courf wearing to the party.  He also went to just about every Halloween event Paris had to offer. And of course brought Courf along.
Honestly, it took little convincing. 
“Le Manoir de Paris? I’ve always wanted to go!” (They spent the whole time clinging to each other, screaming, and enjoying themselves thoroughly. And when they got back to the apartment, they had enough of an excuse to call it Happy-To-Be-Alive Sex.)
“No, way, how have I not heard of this before? A murder mystery tour around the Latin quarter? I always said in a past life I was a detective!”  “Oh you did not, you dork,” (He did not. But Ferre, could have been. He solved the mystery before anyone else.)
“Okay, I never really understood the obsession with vampires, but… now I think I’m catching on.” (Combeferre found out that his boyfriend is very into gelled hair and Tight suits. Who isn’t?)
And the party? Was a hit. Courf and Ferre went as Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter respectively. Courf straightened his hair. Ferre made sure their outfits were perfect to the last detail. He had Jehan personally whittle wands to make them match the characters’ from the movies. They were both wearing quidditch socks. Courf straightened his hair. Those gay bastards made everybody’s Drarry dreams come true.
Everything went according to plan. Enjolras was drunkenly cuddling Grantaire, who was in a debate with Feuilly, Eponine, and Bossuet about who would win in a fight: Godzilla or King Kong. Cosette, Courfeyrac, and Bahorel had gotten together earlier and made Halloween themed snacks that everyone loved. Jehan, Musichetta, Joly, and Montparnasse went to Pere Lachaise to hunt for ghosts (Jehan was hoping for Oscar Wilde).
All in all, everyone went to be “Spooked Out” as Courfeyrac had started to phrase it, and decided to make it an Amis tradition.
Courfeyrac, man buddy, loves the goddamn Fall Spirit that Surrounds October. It is the month of pumpkins and changing leaves and spiced lattes and warm scarves. 
Combeferre doesn’t super notice the changing leaves and pumpkins, and he’s more of a “I don’t care if this burns my throat it’s caffeine and I need it in my bloodstream” kind of guy, so those things aren’t really relevant to him. Usually. In October, though, Courfeyrac convinces him to take a look around and stop for a minute to enjoy the scent of pumpkins and decaying leaf matter (”My Beloved Science Man, never describe the park like that to me again.”) 
And Courfeyrac took up knitting, just so he could knit all of the Amis scarves. Because he loves the thought of all of his friends walking around Paris to their separate duties, all with his scarves. Combeferre always steals Courf’s so that he can take his smell with him wherever he goes. Courf thinks it’s adorable.
The two go on walks in the parks way more often, bundle up and take themoses of coffee and sit under the trees and study. It’s adorable and they cuddle to stay warm. Honestly, don’t get me started on their fall picnics. 
I’ve written way too much. But I got excited. Courferre in October!
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