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havethetimeofyourstyles · 4 years

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in which you and harry steal each other’s stuff that eventually leads to more.

a/n: hi beauties! here is my fic for @stylesharrys 10k challenge! my picture of harry is the one above, enemies to lovers, and prompt is: ‘can you use your mouth for something other than talking?’ dedicated to my appreciation for great teachers & wanting to become one, but not happening lol

thank you to my girls @bopbopstyles & @harrystylescherry for beta reading <3

enjoy 23.4k (LONG AH) words of teacher!harry x teacher!reader, (kind of) enemies to lovers, angst, smut, plus a bit of twist in between!

TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK OF STEAL YOUR HEART! i’d love to hear your favorite moments and thoughts!

pls rb to share! <3

It was seven in the morning when you quickly sneaked over to the front desk where the cubbies for mail sat unbothered.

Call it a Monday ritual, where Nina would chuckle at your playfulness as you would take your fellow coworker’s mail and put it someplace else as said coworker would take something of yours and do the same.

Every Wednesday, he would take your bottle of milk from your own personal mini fridge and place it in different refrigerators throughout the building, leaving you to wander around to fifteen different classrooms as you raided their fridges and embarrassingly apologize for being in their business. But they would laugh it off knowing you and Harry always played games like that.

You could use different milk for your coffee that other teachers have, but since you’re lactose intolerant, you’d rather not, especially during work.

And today was no different for you. Every Monday, you would steal Harry’s mail from his mailbox and place it somewhere else; whether it’d be in your classroom or someone else’s classroom—sometimes you would even put it in other people’s mailboxes.

It may be immature of you both to be messing around in a school environment where you’re both teaching third graders how to behave and be nice to one another, but after working alongside Harry for six years, there was bound to be some kind of way to keep the workplace fun and light, but also remain somewhat professional.

But stealing each other’s belongings had begun a year after both of you started working at the school because after you two had met, things were a bit rocky, and somewhat still rocky as of now. You remembered the day so clearly when you accidentally stumbled upon his classroom.

You were nervous for your official first day because it was the first time you would have a class to yourself. You were rather proud of your achievements as you now had your own classroom at twenty-four. It was a different feeling when it was your own; when you were a TA for the high school down the street, but you rarely got to do any teaching because Miss Landson would never miss out on a day of teaching, so you were only really limited to grading papers and helping her students if they went up to you and asked. But you had no experience teaching in front of a whole class.

To say the least, you were nervous.

You had walked into your classroom to find it already decorated, and you assumed it was from the teacher prior who had just retired and didn’t take all of her decorations down. And although you brought many of your own decorations to put up, you didn’t mind it. It was nice to start off your first day not looking at empty walls, as they were filled with all sorts of decorative stars and colorful fliers.

Hesitantly, you took a seat in the comfy and cushioned chair, putting your bag down right beside the legs of the table, and spun around slowly as you tried to ease your nerves. Once you had fully spun around and made your way back to the correct position in front of the desk, you abruptly stopped spinning as you noticed a man standing in front of you with his arms crossed.

“What are you doing?” He had said with his brows furrowed. You looked at him as if you were a deer in headlights, feeling like you got caught doing something bad.

“I, uh…just getting a feel for the chair?” You sat up straighter, realizing that was such a bad and stupid answer.

“And why are you doing that in my classroom?” Your eyes widened at that, making you immediately stand up from his chair.

“I-I’m so sorry. I must’ve gone to the wrong classroom,” you hurriedly opened your folder that contained a copy of your contract, school rules, a map of the school, and the room number that you were supposed to be in.

“You must be the new teacher, correct?” He asked as he raised his brows, but still looked at you as if he was scolding you.

“Yeah, that’s me,” you said with a chuckle, hoping to try and lighten the mood as your face had reddened. Harry only nodded, and you felt his stare intimidate you, so you quickly gathered your belongings and walked around the desk. “Uh, nice to meet you,” you took your hand out as you told him your name, and you felt him hesitantly reach for it. But nonetheless, he shook it, and his heavy ring covered hand met your delicate two ringed one.

“You too. I’m Mr. Harry Styles,” he introduced himself.

Once he had said his name, chills had immediately risen onto your skin as he looked at you so intently. You couldn’t deny that he was incredibly handsome, green eyes piercing into yours, and most likely a year or two older than you, based on how well dressed he was. Everything about him had made you swoon for him.

But that had quickly changed later in that school year of your first year teaching.

It was January, after the Christmas break, when you noticed that some of your things in your classroom had gone missing. Just some basic school supplies such as your gold stapler and all of your expo markers were not in your classroom. You thought that it was impossible your students had taken them because they were in your class when you had left the last day you had gone on break.

It wasn’t until you were helping out with the rest of the staff, putting up decorations for Valentine’s Day when you noticed a certain someone had your gold stapler in his hand as he stapled heart shaped cutouts onto the bulletin board.

“Mr. Styles!”

“Oh, hello there. How are you on this fine Thursday afternoon? Did you know that one of my students-”

“You took my stapler!” You said, and he looked at you confusingly, so you looked at his hand so he would know what you were talking about.

“This is my stapler,” he held it up.

“I don’t think so because my gold stapler was taken from my class and now it’s gone, and I know you don’t have a gold-”

“Snooping in my classroom, are you now, Miss?” He said, interrupting you and a clearly amused look on his face.

“Uh, no, but-”

“Then how would you know I don’t have a gold stapler?”

“I-I…don’t,” you said softly because you really didn’t know as you were assuming.

“Then it’s settled. You must’ve misplaced your stapler,” he told you as he continued stapling decorations to the wall. You huffed as you had walked away, continuing what you were doing.

It wasn’t until a week later, your gold stapler had magically appeared on your desk when you walked into your classroom, and you noticed that a red stapler was on Harry’s desk, when you had buddy classroom meetups, and not in fact, a gold one. And you knew it was him, but decided not to confront him about it as you carried on with your day, happily using your stapler.

So, from that year, fast forward to five years later, taking each other’s things had continued on. Taking his mail and your milk had only started last year, and it’s been fun as you both found new hiding spots and watched each other lose your minds when trying to find them. It was nothing serious, really, and neither of you made an effort to stop.

“Where are you going to put it this time?” Nina asked, amused. You pursed your lip, thinking as you gathered all of his mail in your hands.

“Hmm. I was thinking under my refrigerator, but-”

“What do we have here?” A voice you recognized as Harry said as he snuck up on you, causing you to squeal and jump, making you drop his mail. “Think you dropped something, or is that my mail?” He said as he looked down at the dropped mail.

“Son of a bitch. What are you doing here so early?” You rolled your eyes as you bent down to pick up his mail. He usually arrived at the school around 7:30, and school started at eight.

If it were any other day when you weren’t his annoying coworker and fellow class buddy, he would’ve loved the sight below him, but he had to remind himself to snap out of his thoughts and get it together.

“Now, we are in a workplace where there are children around. Don’t be using that kind of language,” he teased, but proceeded to answer your question. “But I had to print some of the worksheets that I forgot to do on Friday, so here I am. And you know the printer, always getting jammed when you print too many.”

“Seems pretty irresponsible to me if you forgot on Friday,” you turned your head towards Nina as you chuckled, but only found her eyes dreamily staring at Harry, which caused you to roll your eyes. But you didn’t blame her; he was very attractive, but the fact that you both are always messing and annoying one another didn’t completely make your heart swoon for him.

“Says you; the one who gave them a worksheet that was supposed to be for the month later,” he said back. Your jaw slightly dropped, impressed that he still remembered that considering that that happened your first year at the school.

“Ugh, whatever,” you scoffed as you crossed your arms, mail still in your hands. Harry chuckled as he looked at his mail underneath your arms, so he went to grab them, causing you to uncross your arms.

“Think this is mine. Thanks for grabbing them for me,” he said sarcastically, and you sighed, bummed that you weren’t able to do your morning ritual by hiding his mail and watching him struggle while finding it.

You watched him walk away as he flicked through his mail, and as you were about to follow him because your classroom is right next to his, he turned around and stopped walking to look up at you.

“By the way, you look nice today,” he said, looking you up and down in a non-creepy way, before walking away to his classroom.

You slightly raised your brows as you were taken off guard by the compliment, but a tint of pink had creeped up your cheeks as they began to warm up. Turning around to look at Nina if she heard the same thing you did, she was already looking at you with a blushing and giddy smile as you whispered to her, “did he just say that?” To which you earned an immediate nod of her head.

With your lips curled into your mouth, you walked back to your classroom, to get on with the day as you tried not to gush over the words of the curly headed teacher next door.

The rest of the week passed by quickly, and per Harry’s ritual, he moved your milk on Wednesday from your fridge to his fridge.

You had never thought about looking through his fridge since he would be quite obvious with knowing that it was in his room, but once you were getting cranky after looking through everyone's mini fridge and the lack of coffee, you had marched in his classroom and told him you gave up. And he chuckled, getting up from his desk as he walked over to his fridge before opening it and giving your container of milk. You took the milk, shaking your head as you walked back to your classroom as Harry followed.

“You know, I think we’re going to have to find something else to hide because I’m running out of places to stash your stuff in before they rot because you’ve been taking forever to find them lately,” he teased as he leaned against one of your student’s desks.

You rolled your eyes, pouring a splash of milk in your coffee. “I’m not taking forever,” you denied.

“Yeah, you are and you know it.”

You gave up arguing, silently agreeing. “Alright, you can pick something else, but I’m going to still do your mail. It’s fun searching through your monthly catalogs,” you said with a chuckle, and he dramatically gasped.

“It’s illegal to look through someone else’s mail!”

“Please. Like you don’t look through mine?” You said as you sipped your coffee, looking at him with testing eyes, and he was caught red-handed.

One day, you were walking to the cubbies and once you got there, you caught Harry sneaking a peek at one of your fashion magazines that you subscribed to. And since you have enough subscriptions that are being mailed to your home, you decided to mail some of them to the school.

“To be fair, it fell out of your mailbox. I was just simply putting it back,” he explained, and you smirked as you told him okay with a testing look.

The next week, there was a meeting with the rest of the staff after school was out of session in the multipurpose room. You took a seat next to Stephanie, or Mrs. Bale, as Harry sat in the row in front of you on the end with Mr. Ken. He was a bit older than Harry, already had that salt and pepper kind of hair and you thought he pulled it off really well, but he was already attractive to begin with.

“Thank you, everyone, for sticking around to attend this meeting. It’s Friday and I know everyone wants to go home, so I’ll keep it short,” Mrs. Morgan started, “So in one week on Saturday, there is a very special anniversary coming up, and that is the school’s 40th anniversary!” She said excitedly as she clapped her hands.

There was small chatter as everyone let out ‘ooh’s’ and ‘ahh’s’, saying how that’s exciting and a big milestone.

“And we would like to do something to celebrate that—nothing huge, but I’ve already coordinated with a hotel to let us rent out their conference room for next week, and I’ve also hired an event coordinator to grab some decorations. But as for helping set up, I need everyone’s help for rearranging that.” Everyone nodded, not thrilled with the fact that they had to help out with organizing this event. “Just maybe if you can take the time of your busy lives and exhausting job, if some of you can, that would be great.”

Mrs. Morgan then started talking about what would be served, and to sign up if any of the staff were vegan or vegetarian. She also talked about games and photo booths, and expected everyone to participate and be a good sport because it would be a lot of fun when there are more people involved in the activities.

“Also, it is formal wear because the conference hall is a very luxury hotel that overlooks the coast. And besides, you get to dress up, so that’s always fun!” She said cheerfully as she was clearly very excited for the event.

The meeting didn’t go past twenty five minutes as people mainly chatted or asked questions on the location and capacity.

“Alright, everyone is free to go. If you’d like to sign up to help your dear principle set up for next Friday, please sign this clipboard right here.” She waved the clipboard in the air and set it down on the stage as the staff and teachers got up, and headed out of the multipurpose room and some stayed back to ask questions or sign the clipboard.

You stood up from your chair as you gathered your purse and backpack where you keep various folders of your student’s class work, homework, quizzes and tests.

“Gotta get to the kiddos, finally,” Stephanie said as she began to walk, and noticed that you weren’t following. “You coming?” She asked as she turned around.

“I’m just going to sign up for next Friday. I’ll see you on Monday,” you bid her goodbye.

“Oh, you’re an angel for wanting to help out. I’ll see you next week!” She said her goodbyes as she walked out of the room, and you walked towards the stage to sign your name up for setting up the event as well as writing your name down on the list of vegetarians, although you are pescatarian.

You scanned the list to see if there were any teachers you were close with signed up, but so far not many you really know personally, just the occasional hello and how are you. There were only about three people who signed up so far, including you, and you hoped that more people who write their name down and you also hoped the conference hall wasn’t that big because there were only three people helping out, then it would probably take a while to decorate and set everything up.

As you put the clipboard back down onto the edge of the wooden stage before taking one last glance at it, you turn around to be met with a hard chest, causing you to halt back slightly, and soft grunt coming out of your mouth.

Harry was staring right at you as you looked up, you gave him a look as you wondered why he was in your way and standing behind you so closely.

“Watch it, Mr. Styles,” you said, trying to pass by him, but he shifted towards the right as you took a step to your left, making you both face to face again.

“You were the one who bumped into me, Miss,” he said back with a smirk on your face.

You simply rolled your eyes, exhaustion taking over your mind as you’d rather not bicker with him at the moment. He noticed your tiredness, and kept his mouth shut and his games to himself as he let you walk by him. He picked up the clipboard, glancing down at it as he saw your name written down on the third line.

He felt a bit bad that only three people signed up to help out next Friday, especially considering the first two people were Kyle and Saya (Mr. and Mrs. Terrance) who both are way older, and it would be dangerous for them to lift anything heavy. Plus, he probably knew that you would take care of everything if they couldn’t lift anything, but he didn’t want all the work to be unloaded on you, so he decided to grab the pen and write his name down. He also signed his name on the vegetarian list as well.

Once he turned back around, you were already gone, so he lugged his black leather briefcase with him to the parking lot where he saw you walking towards your car. He snuck up behind you, making you squeal and gasp.

“You need to stop sneaking up on me,” you said as you caught your breath and fished for your keys in your purse.

“Thought you liked it?” He asked sarcastically, and you scoffed.

“Aww, annoying,” you stated.

“Aww, you too,” he said right back in the same tone as you, making you playfully roll your eyes, making a small chuckle fall from your lips.

“What do you want, Harry?”

“Just wanted to say that we’re on the event committee for setting up next Friday,” he said, and you raised your brows.

“Oh, goodie. More moments where you get to mess with me,” you told him in an unexcited tone as you gave him a look that told him you found him annoying.

“Please, you like when I tease you,” he said in a more low tone; his voice was deep as shivers ran down your spine.

His words had come out naturally, and his eyes slightly widened at what just came out of his mouth, hoping you didn’t take it the wrong way because it can be taken differently. And you didn’t miss what he said, especially how he said it.

You hadn’t noticed the position you were both standing in and if someone were to walk by, they would definitely have some eyes on you; your back was against the trunk of your car as he stood quite close as he looked down at you while you looked up. It was like you were back to the day you first met him when you stumbled into the wrong classroom and he stared you down until you got up out of your chair. But this time, he was much closer and it seemed like he was definitely not annoyed at you.

And the slightest bit of sweat had run down your neck as you felt hot under his gazing green eyes and the bit of sun was shining right down on you both. You felt a bit nervous under his stare as it can come off quite intimidating, but through the years of knowing Harry, you knew how to bite back.

“That’s too bad though, isn’t it?” You asked, and he raised his brows. “That you would never know if I liked being teased or not.”

With that, you didn’t even wait to hear his response as you shifted to the side, turning around to walk to the driver’s side. He opened his mouth, but nothing seemed to come out of it as he was shocked to hear your words.

A smirk was present on your face as you chuckled a bit from his reaction before you said, “I’ll see you next week, Mr. Styles.”

The weekend flew by with the slightest bit of drizzle, but luckily, Monday came in with sunshine. You were able to steal Harry’s mail successfully and hide it in the cabinets of the lounge room, but you were disappointed because he found it within ten minutes, and probably because you made the dumb mistake to put it where all the sugar is, so that was your fault.

On Wednesday, you were surprised to see your milk in your fridge until you remembered Harry telling you that he was probably going to steal something else of yours that doesn’t require your milk spoiling. So, you skeptically searched your room as you tried to find something that was obvious that he stole, but you saw everything in place and nothing that you knew was taken.

With a confusing expression on your face, you continued on with your day.

It wasn’t until after lunch when you noticed something was different when you sat in your chair. Looking around, you felt like something was off when you leaned back. Your students were chatting as the movement of the chairs slid against the floor. You gave them about ten minutes to get situated because you weren’t one of those teachers who didn’t allow your students to use the restroom after lunch because they “should’ve gone at lunch.”

So, you sat there wondering what felt so off about sitting down as you had five more minutes left until you had to teach. But once you figured it out, you gasped, telling your students that you would be back in three minutes and that you were going next door.

Luckily the setup of the inside of the school is one large room with big divider walls for each classroom, so you didn’t have to go outside and you could practically hear other classrooms as well.

Stomping over to Harry’s classroom, you walked in and he was sitting on his chair with a smirk on his face as he had his hands on the back of his head, telling his students to take out a math worksheet. He had heard you tell your class that you were leaving for just a few minutes, and he immediately knew that you were headed to his class. As you walked over to his desk, he turned towards you with a sly grin.

“Oh, hello there. To what do I owe this pleasure of you visiting me?” He said in a very obvious tone, knowing that he’s done something.

You took a deep breath, “You stole my footrest.” He slightly turned his head to the side as if he didn’t know what you were talking about. “You know, the one under my desk?” You clarified, and he opened his mouth as he realized what footrest you meant. “Where is it?” You really didn’t want to disrupt everyone’s class looking for it, so you just asked him.

“Hmm, I’m not sure,” he said, and he was really getting on your nerves.

You didn’t want to put up with him, so you didn’t answer back as you took a look around his room until you noticed that he was way too comfortable in his chair. Looking at him weirdly, you walked around the desk to where he was sitting to find his sock covered feet resting on your footrest.

“Ugh, Harry!” You slightly pushed his chair, causing it to roll to the side a bit.

“Isn’t this what you do? Take your shoes off when the class is working?”

“Yeah, doesn’t mean you get to do it too,” you said before you bent down and roughly pushed his feet off, grabbing your footrest.

“Woah, if you wanted to get under my desk, you should’ve just said so,” he said with a smirk. You rolled your eyes as you scoffed, quickly getting back up and backing away from his desk.

“Shut the fuck up,” you said quietly for only him to hear as his students were distracted doing their classwork.

“Language. See you Friday night, by the way,” he said before you made your way out of his classroom and towards yours.

It was only Wednesday, and you thought the days couldn’t go by any slower.

Friday rolled around, and you already knew it was going to be the longest day of the week.

With work, and staying two hours after to wait and head to the venue to help, you already knew you were going to crash easily once you got home. And on top of it, Harry was going to be there as well, so you kept the interactions with him limited during work hours because you simply just did not want to put up with when you had a long day ahead of you.

It wasn’t like you hated him--because you really didn’t. You tolerated and are civil with each other, and you’ve never gotten a chance to get to know him because all you two do is steal each other’s things. Besides, you really had no reason to hate him because you do the same thing to him.

Luckily, he sensed that you didn’t really want to talk to him, so he knew to not bother you. He figured that you were having a long week, and he made it worse by stealing your footrest on Wednesday and to make matters even more worse, he bickered with you and made innuendos that you didn’t appreciate. So, ultimately he felt a bit bad for that and left you alone.

Work seemed to go by pretty quickly, and you were already on your way to the venue; the time reading 4:30 p.m, and you hoped setting everything up didn’t take long. Did you regret signing up? Maybe as exhaustion took over you as you drove. But you know that you wouldn’t later on once you had finished decorating. Plus, you felt bad that there were only two people who signed up before you.

The venue was about thirty minutes away from the school, and when you walked in, the conference hall was completely empty besides the uncovered tables and chairs, but luckily, it wasn’t a huge room. But there were no decorations yet or centerpieces, and you felt like it was going to take a while. Harry arrived right when you did along with Kyle and Saya.

Mrs. Morgan had assigned you all different jobs so the work would be faster and everyone would finally go home. You were assigned to draping curtains in the entrance and on the window. Harry was in charge of carrying tables and boxes in and out of the storage room of the hotel. Kyle and Saya were placing table cloths on the tables and seat covers, along with placing centerpieces.

Everyone was working hard for about an hour, and you were on a ladder, reaching for the top of the door frame to hang one side of the curtain. Thankfully, you decided to switch your mules from work to sneakers because you probably wouldn’t have worked as fast as you were.

Kyle and Saya followed the hotel manager to a different storage closet to get more table cloths for the food table as Harry was still carrying chairs into the room. But you were having trouble draping the sheer curtain over the curtain rod.

You were completely alone in the room as sweat dripped down your back from how hard and fast you’ve been working until Harry came into the room with his sleeves rolled up as he carried four chairs that were stacked on one another. You hadn’t seen him come in as you were still trying to hook the curtain, and you always didn’t realize the ladder was slowly closing in as you kept moving around. And Harry quickly put the chairs down, rushing over to you as he saw the ladder tipping and you were still working.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion as the ladder completely tipped over, causing you to fall off the ladder. You thought you were going to be met with the hard ground, but instead you were being caught in someone’s arms as you two hit the ground. Grunts came out of both of your mouths from the impact of the fall. Luckily, the ladder fell sideways rather on the both of you because that would have been a painful mess.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, looking over and seeing Harry lying flat on his back with his eyes closed and one of his hands on his back. “Holy shit. Are you okay?!”

Harry moved on his side to put pressure on his back as he was in a bit of a fetal position. Your body was sat against his as your back was against his stomach.

“Fuck, that hurts,” he groaned out.

“Harry, let me see if I can get some ice,” you were about to get up when he placed his available hand on your knee, stopping you from his touch.

“No, don’t leave. Just…need a minute,” he said softly as his eyes were still closed. You nodded, staying in your seated position against him as you took your hand and rubbed his back. It was quite sweet, considering how you both normally acted towards each other, but you felt really bad that he was the one that had to take the pain.

After a few minutes, he opened his eyes, looking up at the ceiling and remembering where he was. He sat up on his elbows, and you stood up to help him up.

“You sure you’re okay?” You asked cautiously, not wanting him to collapse on you.

“Yeah. Just a bit sore, but it’ll go away. Feel like I’m old and got a bad back now,” he tried to joke, hopefully lightening up the situation, making it humorous. But you were still worried as you held onto his arm to hold him up just in case.

You scoffed amusingly, “Please. You’re thirty years old. You’re not gonna feel that until you’re maybe fifty.” Harry chuckled, telling you that you were right before you let go of his arm. “By the way, thank you for catching me. I didn’t even notice the ladder tipping over until it fully did. But I, uh, feel really bad that you had to take the fall,” you said, scratching your neck.

“Eh, don’t worry about it. This pain will be temporary,” he brushed it off before taking a seat on one of the chairs for a moment to relax and not immediately go back to a strenuous task.

“Let me know if you need anything, okay?” You said before walking away slowly, and he nodded.

You two hadn’t been so nice or caring for each other like this, so it was definitely a new approach to it. But you didn’t mind it. Playing games with each other was fun, but you wished you had that sort of friendship where you could talk to him and not banter or bicker like a married couple because you think he was a genuinely cool and nice person, even though he really got annoying sometimes. Guess you just attracted annoying people, then.

You took another glance at yourself in the rearview mirror to make sure your makeup and hair was okay before you got out of your car. You stood still next to your car, trying to see your reflection from the window as you fixed the top of your dress. A blush colored cami dress was looking amazing on your body with the straps crossing each other on the back with a slit on the side. You wore nude heels and dangly diamond earrings to accessorize. With your hair pulled back into a low bun, you thought you looked very nice--beautiful even.

There weren’t many times when you got to dress up for the fun of it nor does your job require you to go full glam when going into work. But you think some of your students will love seeing you dress all pretty because they would always compliment you on your outfits.

You walked in just on time, not wanting to be too early when no one is there or too late, but the perfect time. There were a decent amount of people already as the room was filled with teachers, staff, and some people from the school district; all celebrating the anniversary of the school. Everyone was dressed gorgeously--like you, probably having a blast wearing fancy clothes that was hanging from a hanger, waiting to be worn.

The place looked great, and you were really happy with how everything turned out. The lights were dimmed a tad bit as LED lights were pointed towards the wall as music played softly through the speakers.

Stephanie found you once you walked in as she took you to the bar because luckily, tonight’s event was an open bar, all thanks to Mrs. Morgan.

“You look bangin’! That color is amazing on you,” Stephanie complimented as she hyped you up. She was practically the only person you’ve gotten really close with when you started teaching. While you were somewhat close to the other teachers, you and Stephanie hung out outside of school and gossiped your hearts away.

“Please, you’re too kind, but thank you. You look great as well,” you said back after you did a little turn for her, causing you both to laugh as you sipped your mojito.

You two chatted for a bit as she asked about setting everything up last night, and you told her about the incident between you and Harry.

“See, I knew you would fall for him,” she said, making a pun out of it.

“Ha ha, very funny. I really did feel bad for him though.” A slight frown pulled onto your face and Stephanie chuckled before you saw her brows raised.

“Ah, speak of the devil,” she said, and you turned around to find Harry in a lovely double-breasted cream colored suit and a light blue shirt under it. You try not to ogle him too much because you know that he’ll catch on and tease you about you checking him out, so you look at him quickly to find him already staring at you.

“Evening, ladies. Already talking about me?” He smiled as his dimples popped out, making you swoon for him a tad bit more tonight, but you quickly snapped out of your thoughts.

“She was telling me about your little incident yesterday,” Stephanie said, and Harry nodded.

“Yeah, how are you by the way? Are you still doing okay?” You asked, placing your hand on his arm before quickly pulling it away as you realized that you hadn’t asked him if he could be touched, but he smiled softly as you at the action.

“I am, thanks for asking. I took some pain reliever medication and iced my back, so I’m fine. Just a bit sore, but all good,” he reassured, and you simply nodded, glad to hear that he was somewhat better than he looked yesterday. “I’ll be around. Gotta mingle and whatnot,” Harry said before walking away.

After an hour of mingling and eating dinner, you were sat with Stephanie at a circle table along with Harry, Penelope or Miss Nguyen, and three other teachers who were in a deep discussion over wine. Going against your liking, Penelope was being a little too flirty with Harry, and you had no idea where this tinge of jealousy came from. You were hoping to sit next to him and Stephanie, but your plate was moved to the seat over as you went to get napkins. So now, you were on the left of Penelope instead of Harry.

You saw her touch his arm as you did when you first arrived, but this time, she didn’t pull her arm away, and you thought he might’ve liked her arm there. With sneaking glances at the two of them as Stephanie watched some of the staff play the activities, you took a deep breath and stood up from your chair.

“I’m going out to get some air,” you told Stephanie, not looking back to look at Harry rather wondering if he was watching you as you walked out.

You took a step outside through the side doors of the venue that led to a balcony of the hotel. The hotel was on a hill overlooking the coast, and the sun was at its peak of saying goodbye for the day. The golden light illuminated everything around you as you felt calm, watching the sunset as you leaned against the railing before undoing your bun and letting your hair fall free.

“Hey,” a voice from behind you said, and you quickly turned around and saw Harry standing a few feet away from you with one hand in his pocket while the other was holding a drink.

“Hi,” you said back, turning back to the coast as Harry walked to stand beside you, watching the sunset as well.

“S’pretty, innit?”

“Yeah, it really is,” you responded, not turning your head to look at him, but being captivated by how the view in front of you looks.

“You look amazing, by the way,” he complimented, and you blushed. Hard. You turned your head towards him as you caught him eyeing you up and down, and you felt intimidated.

“You look great as well. I love your suit,” you said, hopefully to cover up your nerves. He said a thank you to you, and you turned your head back to the view as Harry continued looking at you.

And you didn’t notice Harry looking at you the entire time as you watched the sunset. You didn’t know how entirely gorgeous you looked as the gold light was being melted onto your skin, making you look more beautiful than you already are. You also didn't know that Harry couldn’t simply stop staring at you because he was taken back and practically speechless with how the slightest bit of wind that was blowing the right way, which made your hair flow perfectly. You were the epitome of beauty, he thought, and he captured a mental picture to remember you in this moment because it was surely his favorite.

“My ex never really liked watching the sunset,” you suddenly said, and Harry looked over at you. “I’m sorry. That was really random.”

“No, no. It’s okay. You can talk about anything,” he encouraged.

“Well, he never really liked watching the sunset with me. Always said that it was a waste of time and it was boring, but I don’t think so.”

“It’s really not boring at all,” he said.

“Yeah, I agree. But people have their own opinions. The earth deserves to be watched over.” You looked straight into the sun as it wasn’t bright enough to blind you anymore as you watched it turn into an orange tone.

“Why did you two break up, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“We just fell out of love with each other. We were together for three years, and the last few months of our relationship, there wasn’t any love. He stopped taking me out on dates, and when I asked if he wanted to go out, he always said he was busy. I believe he never cheated on me, but he just wasn’t in love with me anymore, and I can say the same for him—I wasn’t in love with him anymore. So, we had a mature talk and figured it was best to part ways,” you explained.

“And are you happier because of the breakup?”

“Much happier,” you simply said, and it was the end of that conversation.

You didn’t know why you were telling Harry about your past relationships, but there was just something about the sunset where you could be your most vulnerable self.

After a few moments of admiring the earth and its wondrous ways, Harry spoke.

“Do you mind doing me a favor?” He asked.

“What’s that?” You turned your head to look at him as you asked.

“Do you, uh, mind taking a picture of me?” He asked nervously, not knowing how you were going to react to a random question. Your brows raised as you nodded slowly. You didn’t expect him to be the type to be in front of cameras or want his picture taken, but you did it for him anyways.

“Oh yeah, of course,” you said, and his face perked up as he smiled softly. Harry took his phone out of his pocket and opened the camera icon before handing it to you. You took several pictures of him so he would have options to choose from, but he was standing completely still as he looked into the camera. “Maybe, like…move around?”

“What d’ya mean?”

“I don’t know, like give me some different poses,” you said, and a soft ‘oh’ came out of his mouth before he started to stand differently, occasionally giving you a smile.

You tried hiding your face behind his phone as you looked at him through the screen, snapping at every chance you think that’ll be a great photo turnout. But you already know that either way, the photos will come out great no matter what.

After a few more clicks, you smiled and gave his phone back to him as you stood there, watching him scroll through the photos before typing on his phone rather quickly right after. You thought if he was sending them to someone or sending them in general, and you wondered if it was a significant other.

Trying not to look into it too much, you turned around towards the doors, and asked him, “Do you want to head back?” He looked up from his phone, putting it away.

“Oh, yeah. Sure,” he followed you through the doors and towards the room where everyone was dancing on the dance floor. Harry had immediately parted ways with you as you saw him walk towards the bar while Stephanie dragged you on the dance floor.

You kept the going down and throwing it back very minimal as these were the people you worked with, and only stepped side to side, swaying your hips just a tad bit.

Harry, on the other hand, had already downed three tequila shots within six minutes, and including the drinks he had before he went outside with you, he was pretty buzzed. He watched you dance with Stephanie, and chuckled at how you were restraining yourself. He thought you were adorable. The whirling thoughts of his mind when he watched you take his picture was stuck in his head. Head to toe was splashed in the golden light giving you the most goddess-like look as a slight smirk was plastered on your face as you took his picture. Yeah, you were the most beautiful person he’s ever seen.

It was a strange feeling to feel like this when it's been years of plotting against each other, and he hadn’t felt like this in a long while. The thumping of his heart had told him that he was falling. Just the mere vision of looking at you had made a butterfly in his stomach appear. You just had that effect on him. And it wasn’t like he was complaining, but he was definitely terrified of that feeling.

So, that’s why he’s had three, now four, shots of straight tequila to ease his nerves and calm his mind as he watched you on the dance floor with a fifth shot in his hand.

The music had turned into a much slower one, and the staff that brought their staff or significant other had taken over the dance floor as you walked back to the table to sit down. Stephanie brought her husband, who she immediately dragged to the dance floor, and you watched them smile and look at each other with hearts in their eyes as they swayed. You smiled, observing their faces and how in love they looked, somewhat wishing you had that as well. You hadn’t had a serious relationship in a long while--the last one being before you started teaching.

You felt a tap on your shoulder and turned around to find Harry smiling down at you with his hand out.

“Would you like to dance?” He asked. You didn’t immediately grab his hand nor did you say anything; you just looked up at him in shock that he asked you. But after a few seconds, you grabbed his hand and nodded as he led you to the dance floor.

Once you two were facing each other, you hesitantly wrapped your arms around his shoulder as he wrapped his around his waist. His hold wasn’t too high or too low, but it was placed on the right spot for you to feel comfortable, and you appreciated that.

As you two swayed to the soft classical piano ballad music, your eyes were elsewhere; looking at the other people dancing and the people sitting to find that no one was watching you both and that didn’t matter. So, you trained your eyes towards Harry, and of course, he was already looking at you. Being under his stare was something you were somewhat used to, but when it comes down to it, it made nerves along with the flutter of your heart appear. It was as if he was looking deep into your soul, trying to figure something out, and it remains once he’s found what he’s looking for.

“I was surprised you asked me to dance,” you said suddenly. You felt him pull you a bit closer, so your stomachs are pressing against one another, but not your chests, and your face was very close to his, making butterflies in your stomach present as you wondered if he had the same feeling.

“Why’re so surprised?” He genuinely asked as he swayed you both in a slow circle.

“Thought you might’ve asked Penelope to dance.”

“Why’s that?” His brow crinkled, wondering what brought these questions to mind.

“I mean, you were awfully close to her during dinner,” you said honestly, and Harry let out a chuckle, which you didn’t find amusing like you usually did. “What’s so funny?”

“Are you jealous?” His face inched closer to you, and you could smell the alcohol on his tongue. With how fast he was downing those shots, it was slowly starting to kick in.

“I’m not jealous. It was just an observation,” you said.

“No, I think you’re jealous. Didn’t like seeing me give another teacher attention, huh? Just wanted to give it all to you, is that it?” He asked with a hushed tone in his voice. You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He was full on teasing you as you tried to ignore the arousal that was forming inside of you.

“I’m not, okay? I was just genuinely wondering because you know, you think I’m annoying and whatnot, so I was surprised you asked me to dance,” you tried brushing it off, and Harry scoffed shaking his head.

“You’re saying a load of bullshit right now, and you don’t even know how I feel. Can you use your mouth for something other than talking?” The words had come out like rapid fire, and he is fully blaming it on the alcohol because he would never say something like that sober. And you know he wouldn’t say something like that to you, so you found it humorous as you were a bit shocked you heard those words come out of his mouth. You looked at him with your brows raised and your jaw slightly open as it somewhat curved into a smile as you tried not to laugh. Harry hadn’t said anything else, neither had you, but you did give him a shoulder shrug as if it was telling him ‘we’ll see.’

The song had ended, and you and Harry made your way off the dance floor and to the table. It was nearing 8:30, which means the party was almost over in thirty minutes. So, you decided to leave a bit early to grab some dessert on your way home since you didn’t really like the selection at the party.

“Think I’m gonna head home now,” you told Stephanie who made her way to the table.

“Aww, okay. We’re gonna head out soon too. But drive safe and I’ll see you on Monday.” You two hugged each other, telling each other that you both had fun tonight before grabbing your clutch.

“Uh, I’ll see you on Monday,” you told Harry.

“I’ll walk out with you. I’m heading home as well,” he said, and you nodded your head as he took a last sip of his drink before you two headed outside of the hotel.

The air was chilly as the sound of the coast was heard under the starry night that was above. You shivered slightly, turning to Harry as he was taking his suit jacket off and holding it out for you to wear it.

“Oh, it’s okay,” you waved off.

“Please, I insist,” he said, and you nodded before turning around, facing your back towards him as he slipped his cream colored suit jacket on your shoulders.

The piece of clothing was warm and smelled like his usual tobacco vanille. As you were wearing it, you felt a sense of comfort, like Harry himself was hugging you, and you cherished the feeling of it, even if it wasn’t the real thing.

“I’m parked over here. I can drive you-” you pointed to the left of the parking lot.

“Oh no, it’s okay. I took an Uber anyway. Just gonna wait here for a few,” he said as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, blinking a few times from the bright screen. He was clearly buzzed, and couldn’t really think straight, so you took his phone out of his hands.

“Let me drive you home. It’ll give me a piece of mind, yeah?” You offered, and by the look of your face, you were persistent, so he nodded, following you to your car.

You started driving down the hill and onto the main street before you said, “Is it okay if I stop by the Sweet Treats before I drop you off?” You asked, referring to the dessert place about two miles away from your place.

“Yeah, of course. S’bit early, so you can go wherever,” he replied as he leaned his head on the shoulder of the seat, clearly a bit sleepy. You let out a chuckle as you continued driving as Harry drifted to sleep.

When Harry woke up, he looked around out the windows and found himself alone in the car until he saw you quickly walking towards your car with his suit jacket still around you. And all he could think was how great you look in his clothes.

“Ah, you’re awake. I got you a cupcake and two cookies. Didn’t know what kind of flavor you like, so I just guessed and got you chocolate,” you said once you got in the car and handed him his box of sweets.

“Oh, thank you. That’s very kind of you,” he smiles as he opened the box, and the sweetness of the desserts filled his nose.

“Now, I’m going to need directions to your place,” you said as you started the car.

Harry navigated you to his house, telling you to turn right here and turn left there. But you needed to make sure, asking him, “Wait, right here?”

“Yeah, here,” he chuckled, playfully rolling his eyes as you were driving slow so you don’t miss the turn. And luckily, there were no cars behind you.

Once you finally parked in front of his house, you noticed that he didn’t leave that far from you because you’ve been in this neighborhood before as your cousin lives a few houses down; it was probably a five minute drive to your place.

“Thank you for the ride, and the dessert,” he said, turning his head towards you, and making no effort to get out of the car yet.

“You’re welcome. Couldn’t let you be in an Uber while intoxicated--just doesn’t sit well with me,” you said honestly. Harry nodded, telling you that he appreciated it as he looked at you deeply.

“Also, about what I said when we were dancing--I’m sorry about that. That was out of line of me,” he apologized, feeling quite embarrassed from his words, and knowing that he was going to think about what he said and beat himself up over it after you leave.

You let out a breathy chuckle, “No worries. It was quite funny. But maybe I could use my mouth for something other than talking.”

“W-What?” He gulped nervously, slightly turned on from your teasing.

“Maybe one day you’ll find out,” you said with a sly smirk on your face as you watched Harry scratch his neck and run his hand through his hair nervously. “Goodnight, Harry,” you bid him goodbye, and that was his cue to get out of your car already. It wasn’t like you wanted to kick him out, but you wanted him to think about your words for the night.

And since it was still too early to go to sleep, maybe you’ll think about his words to.

It was Monday, a month later after the anniversary party, and you had Harry’s mail in your hand as you decided to stuff it into your filing cabinets that hold future worksheets and your students’ progress.

It wasn’t until lunch when you were having the pasta you made the night prior as you watched a fashion competition on Netflix when you saw Harry stomp into your room.

“Where’s my mail?” He asked immediately, not bothering to say hi to you.

Ever since the party, your moods had changed towards each other. Of course, you both still messed with each other and annoyed one another, but the mood and energy between you two was different. And you didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing.

“Gotta find it, Mr. Styles,” you said as you took a bite of your food as you eyed him. You could tell he was beginning to get frustrated with you, but you didn’t see a reason to stop because it’s the same way with you when he hides your stuff.

“Just hand it over. I’m not in the mood to put up with this right now,” he rolled his eyes as he huffed.

“Now, those aren’t the rules. You made me find it until you just laughed and pointed at me, so now you have to-”

“I swear to god, just give me my damn mail!” He said in a loud tone, not technically yelling, but enough for you to stop talking and finally notice how angry he looked. “Fuck, just give me my fuckin’ mail, so I could get out of here,” he added, waiting for you to make an effort to give him his mail, but you were too in shock by his words and tone that you didn’t move. “Well?” He said, arms crossed, and you snapped out of your thoughts and got up, walking over to your filing cabinet.

Once you handed him his mail, he immediately snatched it, flipping through it as he walked out of your classroom with no thank you, and you swore that you heard him mutter ‘fuckin’ annoying’ as he walked out causing your stomach to drop.

You sat back down in your chair, pushing your glass container away and turned off your phone as you took deep breaths, trying not to make a big deal out of it. But of course it was a big deal to you. You had thought that your relationship with Harry was doing okay, and you weren’t at each other’s throats, but that hope had all washed away within a minute as he raised his voice with you as if you were a little kid.

Normally, you wouldn’t take bullshit like that, but this one seemed to hit differently as your eyes started to tear up and your hands started to shake. You got up from your seat, fast walking to the staff restroom before you let it all out. Your tears made its way down your face as you covered your mouth as muffled sobs echoed through the tiled walls.

A week later, you headed straight to your classroom, deciding that you weren’t going to move Harry’s mail around.

There was an awkward tension between you two, and Harry’s at fault for it. He knew that he shouldn’t have raised his tone at you because it was completely unnecessary, and he knew better than that. He ultimately felt really bad for talking to you like that, and he didn’t even say please in a calm manner, which he should have.

Last Monday when he got back to his desk, he immediately knew that he was wrong for how he spoke, so he had gotten up and walked back to your classroom, only to find you already headed for the staff restroom. And he hoped you weren’t crying, but he had a feeling you were.

After that day, he had gone into your room to try and apologize the entire week, but you would either be talking to a student or avoiding him as you saw him enter your classroom, so you exited, saying an excuse just to be out of his presence. He frowned as he watched you walk away, but it was very understandable and he didn’t blame you whatsoever.

Now, after a week of pondering what to say to you, Harry walked over to his mailbox to see all of the envelopes in his box. With a small frown, he turned towards Nina who was watching him, and he saw her shrug as she continued doing her work. He walked to your classroom to find you on your laptop, round tortoise framed glasses sat on your nose, and he thought you looked absolutely adorable. Sitting on the side of one of the students’ desks in the front row, you didn’t even bother to look up at him.

“Hey,” he said. “Can we talk?”

“About what?” You asked, still not looking at him, but obviously knowing what he wanted to talk about.

“Please, look at me?” He pleaded, and he saw you take a deep breath in, taking your glasses off before looking at him. “I-I’m sorry. For last week. It was so unnecessary to talk to you like that and I regret it so much. You didn’t deserve that at all.”

You nodded, “You’re right. I didn’t deserve it. But can you explain to me why you talked to me like that?”

“I was waiting on something from my cousin back home. He had sent me some stickers that he made for the class, and I really wanted to give my students them already. And when I couldn’t find my mail, I got frustrated and annoyed, and I took it out on you, which I shouldn’t have,” Harry explained, and your face remained neutral.

“You know, I would’ve eventually given it to you if you would’ve asked nicely, but you raised your voice and called me annoying when this is the kind of game we play. And it’s not an excuse to talk to me the way you did,” you said sternly, but also calmly. Harry felt like he was a kid getting lectured, which he thought this is probably how you looked like when your students got in trouble, and he thought that it was great how you’re so calm.

“Yeah, it’s no excuse whatsoever. I feel really bad, and I’m really sorry,” he offered a small but sad smile as you looked him in the eyes to see if he meant it, and thankfully, you didn’t find a spec of lie.

“I forgive you,” you said, and Harry lets out a deep breath. “But that doesn’t mean you go around talking to me or anyone like that ever again when they don’t deserve it,” you added.

“Yeah, of course. It was just that moment, and I’m sorry it was you. But thank you for forgiving me,” he beamed gratefully and you nodded. “But just know that I think you’re more than annoying,” he confessed suddenly.

“Do you?” You asked calmly, but on the inside, your heart was racing.

“Yeah, way more than annoying. I mean I’ve known you for years, and I see you everyday. And I can’t believe this is the time when I’m about to confess this right now, but…” he took a deep breath before saying, “I like you. I really do.” Harry pursed his lips as you were looking at him with a shock expression, but your eyes were saying something else.

They were almost telling him that you were happy to hear those words, but you didn't expect it and it was shocking to hear because of how sudden and how things escalated so quickly, but there was a hint of sparkle in your eyes, and for that, he remained hopeful.

“You, uh, you like me?” You asked, wanting to make sure you’re not dreaming, but also wanting to hear it again.

“I do. I like you. And I know it’s crazy to say it because the way we acted and treated each other seemed otherwise, but lately I’ve just been thinking about you nonstop and it’s driving me crazy,” he said with a small smile, still remaining hopeful.

“Harry-”

“I totally understand if you don’t feel the same way,” he interrupted. “Because I mean who would like someone that messes and bickers with you every chance they get. But maybe that was the reason why I did it.”

“What do you mean?” You asked curiously.

“I guess… when I first met you, I thought you were way out of my league. And I know I put this front up to seem like I’m intimidating, but I’m not! I was actually intimidated by you,” he said honestly, and your eyes widened because you thought it was insane that this handsome man in front of you was intimidated by you. “And I kind of just wanted a reason for you to talk to me and see if we had this bond, and for some reason, I did a childish thing and stole your stapler-”

“I knew it! You kept insisting that it was yours, but all of sudden ‘yours’ was gone and mine suddenly appeared,” you said excitedly causing him to laugh, which of course, made you join him as well.

“Yeah, it was kind of immature, wasn’t it? But you started taking my things as well, and I was happy with that because at least we were interacting and talking y’know?” You nodded with a smile on your face. “And I may have acted cocky and whatnot, but I was just scared. I haven’t felt like this in a while, so I hid my feelings, and I couldn’t even believe myself when I confessed that I liked you, but I just needed to say it.”

“Harry, you know you should’ve just told me. But I get where you’re coming from. I was actually really intimidated by you, and I couldn’t believe I walked into the wrong classroom and practically trespassed,” you chuckled at the memory that was so long ago, but it was still so fresh in your mind.

“It’s okay. You can trespass any time,” he joked.

“But as time went by, I tried to deny my feelings for you, and then we started talking and it was less banter and more teasing, I knew I couldn’t push it away, so I accepted it,” you said, and he nodded his head with a look as if he’s trying to figure something out.

“So, what you’re saying is…” he said, wanting to hear the full thing loud and clear.

You laughed before you said, “I like you too, Harry.”

The brightest smile was plastered on Harry’s face; dimples popping out with the crinkle by his eye present. You’d never thought you’d be the reason Harry would smile like that, let alone at you, but you weren’t complaining at all. His smile was contagious as you both let out giddy giggles, matching each other’s beaming grins. It was also beautiful as his cheeks had a tint of pink to it while running his finger on the tip of his nose, trying to hide his happiness.

Suddenly, there was a knock on your door, turning both of your attentions to it, and Harry went to answer it since he was closer. When he opened the door, he found a small boy at your classroom doorstep, and you got up, walking over to your student.

“Dawson? What’s up, buddy? Why’re you here so early?” You bent down as you talked to him, and you noticed that he had a sad frown on his face. “Are you okay?”

“My mom dropped me off here early, so I’m here,” he said sadly, looking down at the floor. School started in about forty five minutes, which was usually too early to drop kids off as parents started dropping them off about twenty minutes before school.

“Okay, that’s completely fine. Come in, yeah?” You stood on your feet, and moved out of the way to let him inside of the classroom.

“I was wondering if I could talk to you?” He said once he put his backpack on his assigned chair. “You said that we could talk to you about anything, right?”

“Yes, of course. Anything you like,” you said, reassuring him with a smile, and he nodded.

“I’m going to head back to my classroom,” Harry said, and you nodded before Dawson spoke up.

“No, wait!” He called out, and Harry stopped walking, giving your student his full attention. Dawson turned to you and asked, “Can Mr. Styles stay? He’s really nice when we have our buddy classroom days.”

You smiled at the young boy, “Of course he can--that is, if he can. Anything to make you comfortable.”

“I’d be happy to stay for you, Dawson,” Harry offered him a smile as you walked over to the table in the back of the classroom that’s used for group work and teacher-students discussions.

You sat at the octagon table, Dawson sitting on your right and Harry sitting on your left. You had completely turned your body towards Dawson as your back was facing Harry.

“Dawson, since this is the first time we are speaking to each other one on one,” you turned around towards Harry, and softly grinned, and you turned back towards Dawson. “Well, two on one. But just know that whatever you say will stay between the three of us, and it will not leave this classroom, okay?”

“Okay,” Dawson said softly.

“Now, what’s on your mind?”

Dawson began to tell you and Harry about how he feels neglected by his mother because of the reason that she’s starting to drop him off earlier than normal and not coming home until later as his aunt picks him up. He then told you two that he just feels a bit sad that he never gets to see his mom that much anymore, and how his father is rarely around, so he was quite torn.

You felt your heart sink as you listened to him, making sure to not interrupt him as you and Harry listened to his words intently.

“Okay, I’m done,” Dawson said, eyes a bit swollen from the tears that had fallen out of his eyes, and Harry got up to grab him a tissue box.

“Dawson,” you started, “I’m sorry you have to go through that. Have you told your mom how you felt?” He shook his head as aggressively wiped his face with the tissue.

“Never see her anymore.”

“What about when she drops you off at school?”

“I’m always eating breakfast in the car, so I never get a chance to,” he placed his elbow on the table as he leaned his face against his hand, while the other hand traced the outline of the polished wood.

“What about your aunt? Have you told her anything?” Harry pitches in, and you slightly turn your head towards him, gratefully he’s being involved.

Dawson’s face changed to a much lighter one as if he had a realization to what Harry had said.

“Oh, I-I haven’t told her anything.”

“Maybe if you’re comfortable, you can talk to her when she picks you up, and I’m sure she’ll tell your mom if you’re not comfortable doing so,” Harry said, and Dawson nodded in agreement.

“I want you to know that, your mother not being there for you at the moment or your father not being in the picture does not have to do with you. Don’t think that it has to do with you, okay? You’re good enough and you’re an amazing person that I’m so lucky to have you in my class,” you said, emphasizing your words so it was stuck in his mind.

“You’re a great student, and my class and I are happy we’re that we’re classroom buddies,” Harry adds with a bright and reassuring smile on his face that lightened the mood, and added a smile on Dawson’s face as well.

“C-Can I give you two a hug?” Dawson asked, standing up from his chair.

“Of course, come here,” you scooted your chair back, opening your arms as you welcomed him into your arms.

You knew that he really needed this hug by how tight he was hugging you, but you didn’t mind, glad to comfort him for as long as he needed as you rubbed his back as he buried his face into your shoulder. Once he let go, you rubbed his shoulders for good measure before he walked around you and over to Harry.

Harry widely opened his arms before Dawson placed himself between them as they both gave each other big hugs. You heard Harry whisper how proud he was of the boy in his arms, and your heart swooned at the sight, making you blush and practically have hearts in your eyes as you witnessed their moment.

There was a moment when Harry looked up from Dawson’s shoulder to look at you. A hint of gleam sparkled in both of your eyes as you looked at each other. Although you’ve just confessed your feelings for each other, you knew that this was going to be completely special.

You were sitting on the small couch that was in the back corner of the room. You were quite proud of this area of your classroom as you wanted to make it a comfortable place for your students to read or take a break at as you decorated it with a cream colored couch, a floral rug, and hung fairy lights along the wall.

Sometimes you would take a seat on the couch during lunch when you were getting tired of sitting on your chair where your desk was, so it was a nice change up.

With your container filled with your lunch on your lap as you looked down at your laptop, sat beside you and earphones in your ears, you saw Harry walk in with his lunch in his hands, a beaming grin on his face once he saw how comfy you looked.

“Hey,” he greeted, taking a seat next to you on the couch. He completely turned his body towards you with his arm on the back of the couch as you did as well.

“Hi,” you said with a smile. “What’s for lunch?”

“Salmon with some veggies. I made it last night,” he said proudly, and you looked at his meal and ooh’ed. “Try some?”

“Course I will. But you also just want me to boost your ego even more because I’m sure it’s good,” you teased.

“Maybe. Open up f’me, yeah?” He said, cutting a piece of salmon and sticking a piece of green bean on his fork before bringing the fork up to your mouth.

You tried not to think of his words so literally as there have been many times he would talk as if he was in the bedroom, not that you know anything about what he’s like in the sheets nor how you know his lips feel against yours. But you’re not complaining about his word choices; they do get you a bit turned on, but you simply couldn’t do anything about it.

With your mouth open, he fed you a bite of his lunch and a ‘mm’ was heard from you as you chewed.

“Wow, that’s really good,” you complimented the chef as you wiped your mouth with a napkin.

“Well, thank you very much, darling,” he said, and you blushed.

It’s been a month since you and Harry have known how you two feel about each other, and it was full of two days out of the week, eating lunch together. He had stumbled into your classroom one day, and asked if you wanted to have lunch together, and you said yes. So, lunch dates stuck, whether it’d be your classroom or his because he also has a comfy corner in his classroom with a record player next to the couch. When you two didn’t feel like staying inside, you would grab a bite to eat together. It also definitely made finding a place to eat much easier since you two found out you were both pescatarians.

The mood is definitely different with each other as you two have slowly gotten to know one another as you tell each other about your childhood, past stories, interests, etc. You already knew that he was such a kind person, despite the bickering, but truly talking to him had confirmed your assumptions.

Within the month had also made you earn a pet name from him. From your past relationships, you were always called babe (along with some nicknames from inside jokes), which in all honesty, you never really liked; it was a generic pet name from a significant other and it was an okay pet name. But hearing the word name ‘darling,’ especially from Harry, it was like butter. The name rolled off of his tongue, and you caved in as you continuously looked at his lips right after, wanting him to call you that multiple times.

“I know my lunch isn’t all that interesting to feed you, but we can share a pie I made earlier this week if you’d like?” You said, looking down at your food as you only had a sandwich with avocado, tomatoes, and lettuce.

“Sounds good,” he smiled before taking another bite of his delicious lunch.

After a few minutes of talking about funny stories that happened during class and upcoming assignments, you changed the subject and nervously asked him a question that has been on your mind.

“So, I was wondering…” you started, but trailed off as nerves crept up your skin.

“That’s always interesting,” he teased.

“Say, how about we go on a date? Like a real and official date?” You looked at him with hopeful eyes, and you saw a smirk slowly spreading onto his face as he blushed a bit.

“Are you asking me out?” He was completely flattered and loved how you made the effort to ask him because he’s been thinking about it for an entire month, but was too nervous to do so.

“Answer the question,” you chuckled.

“I’m so flattered you're asking me. Y’know, really boosts my ego, let me tell you,” he stalled as he laughed, and you playfully rolled your eyes.

When you had thought he was a kind guy, despite the bickering and being annoying with one another, the annoying Harry was still there.

“Let me deflate your ego then, and take it back,” you joked, and his face immediately went down. His beaming smile as he teased and joked was gone and was replaced by a frown.

“Hey, no. Don’t take it back. I was just messing with you,” he said softly, making you giggle from the change of moods he just went through.

“Then answer the question, you big baby.”

“Would love to go on a date with you. Of course I would,” he finally answered, and his smile, once again, was present. He reached over to hold your hand as his thumb caressed your skin. “I’ve been wanting to ask you since last month, but it was always a bad time or I would get nervous and come into your room to ask you a completely different question.”

“Aww, that’s sweet. No need to be nervous anymore. But now I’m noticing that those days you came into my classroom, you always acted strange, but I brushed it off since this is so new and fresh still,” you explain, and he let out a breathy chuckle.

“Yeah, those were the times when I was supposed to ask you on a date. But I’m glad you asked me, and I would absolutely love to go,” he smiled, still hand in hand with you.

“I’m happy you said yes. I was wondering if you’d like to come over? I’ve been dying to try this new recipe out. It’s a Thai Coconut Curry rice, and I got it off YouTube, and I was watching it late at night and just wanted to make-” you paused, noticing Harry looking at you funny, but he was really just admiring how you’re just adorable when you ramble about things you’re passionate about. “I mean, if you think it’s too soon, I can look for a restaurant if-”

Your idea of inviting him over had immediately been thrown out the window because he was looking at you funny, and was probably thinking that it was definitely too soon to be at each other’s houses, which you now see. But you didn’t know Harry was just simply adoring the way you talk.

“No, no. I’d love to come over if you’d still have me. And I’d love to try that dish out,” he reassured you.

“Really? It’s not too soon?” You asked, wanting to make sure he was okay with it.

“Yes, I’m sure. And there’s no real timeline in how people should do things when they’re in a relationship. So, we’re going at whatever pace we both want,” he said, and you took in his words, thinking he was completely right.

For the rest of your lunch breaks, you both scheduled a date and time, which was going to be this Saturday at 7 p.m, and as you suggested that time and day, you watched Harry look up as if he was thinking if he was available that day before he agreed to those suggestions.

This was going to be the first date you’ve had in a long while, but you were excited knowing that it was with Harry.

It was a brutal four days of waiting for date night to finally arrive, and you’ve never been so happy until Saturday.

You had barely gotten any sleep due to your thoughts racing on what to talk to him about and what you should wear, but you managed to get about seven hours of sleep, which was really well considering how late you stayed up.

Saturday morning, you decided to wake up at eight a.m to go on a run. You had so much energy inside of you, despite waking up, and you needed to let it all out of you so you’re not too overly excited. So, you thought a good run would exhaust you for a few hours.

You ran around your neighborhood and on the main road for a good two hours. You just had so many things on your mind that you were thinking that you lost track of time as your legs continued on as you were in a daze.

It was a beautiful day. Although there were a bit of clouds, the sun was out and shining. Thankfully, not at a brutal temperature where you couldn’t go out for a run. But it was the perfect weather for the morning.

You got back to your house at around 10 a.m, immediately heading for the kitchen for a glass of water. The coldness streamed down your throat, making you sigh in relief as exhaustion took over you. With tiredness settling over you, you knew that you needed to shower before anything else as sweat was dripping down your back, making your shirt stick to your skin, so you made your way to the shower, stripping down as the warm water hit your skin as you washed off your morning run.

By 12 p.m, you had lunch and caught up on some grading; being very proud and impressed all your students did really well on the assigned homework. After grading papers, you decided to take a quick nap before you had to go out and get some groceries for tonight’s dinner, and the last thing on your mind before you were lulled into sleep from your run, was how a particular man you were excited to see at night.

Once you’ve woken up and gotten groceries, buying plenty of spices, veggies, and a Thai curry paste, it was 4 p.m, making you right on time with the schedule you had in your head. You started chopping the veggies before you sautéed them to a beautiful golden brown as the sizzle of the pan brought music to your ears.

You had a show playing in the midst of cooking that you’ve watched two hour long shows that you didn’t realize the time was now six p.m, meaning you’d have to get ready. As you walked to your room, you heard the splatter of liquid hitting the ground outside, so you looked out your window, seeing the sky had turned grey as rain fell down.

Quickly, you grabbed your phone, opening your message up with Harry before you typed: (bold) started raining hard just now! Be safe when driving, and see you soon! You hit send before opening up Spotify, playing ABBA to hype yourself up as you sang along while getting ready.

You opted for a minimalistic makeup look since you were just at home, and a pair of black cropped flared trousers with a nice white blouse. You looked yourself in the mirror and felt satisfied with your look, giving yourself a smile before you took a deep breath as nerves were catching up to you. Checking your phone, the time read 6:55 and no text back from Harry, which you assumed he was getting ready or on his way.

Keeping yourself busy, you checked on the dish you were making that was on low heat as it simmered, and wiping down the counter and fixing the throw pillows are your couch. Your tasks didn’t take that long, about seven minutes in total, as it had already passed 7 p.m.

He would arrive any minute, you thought.

But you thought wrong.

You had waited thirty minutes before you sent him another text asking if he was on his way, but later on you got nothing. Worriedly, you tried not to let your mind think the worst, but it was difficult not to because he wasn’t answering his phone whatsoever and the weather was horrible.

As you waited another hour and a half with a glass of wine sitting in front of you, you were starting to get angry. How could he stand you up and not call you? You had thought you two were doing really well, and he seemed to want to go on a date with you, so why would he change his mind so quickly?

It was 9 p.m when you decided to call it a night a bit earlier than you planned, so you placed the food you made in a container and washed the pot before grabbing the plates and utensils you placed on the dining table, and putting them away. The entire time, you were silent as disappointment and an upsetting feeling hit you. You really tried not to cry as you did your normal skin care routine as if it was a normal night, but it wasn’t.

But when your head hit your pillows, the disappointment had settled, making you release your tears, hating that you’re going to bed feeling the complete opposite as you did when you woke up,

The night was slow as you watched the night from your bed, looking out at the window. It was most likely slow because you couldn’t sleep—only getting about three hours of sleep as you were woken up by the sun at six a.m.

It wasn’t until about nine when you decided to get out of bed to start the day. You didn’t really have anything planned, but if you were to stay in bed, then you would continue being sad that your date didn’t show up.

You were waiting for your coffee to brew when you heard your doorbell go off, grabbing your attention as you looked towards your door. You then looked down, noticing that you were wearing a flowy shirt with your pajama pants. Shrugging to yourself, you decided to walk to the door, not caring who’s behind it as you think that it may be your sister or cousin stopping by in the morning as they sometimes did.

But you were completely wrong.

It was the person who was supposed to be at your house last night just as he’s stood on your doorstep, but it’s the morning after, which doesn’t make it any better.

You scoffed, shaking your head as if you couldn’t believe it.

“You’re a bit late to dinner, don’t you think?” You immediately tell him as your words came out as an obvious tone.

Harry expected those kinds of words to come out of you once you opened the door. He knew that you had just woken up, and it wasn’t smart that you were already in such a bad mood. Looking down at your pajama outfit, he tried not to let himself get too distracted by the way your nipples hardened under your white shirt that poked out due to the warmth of your house colliding with the coldness that is the outside.

“I can explain-”

“Seems like you’re always explaining, huh?” You stressed, huffing as you were closing the door, but he quickly placed his hand on it, stopping it from closing him out.

“No, please! I swear I have a good reason,” he pleaded. You looked him in the eye, and saw a hint of sadness, like he really just needed to explain it to you.

“Y’know if you didn’t want to go out with me, you could’ve just told me that. Didn’t need to stand me up and have me wait for hours with a home cooked meal,” you opened the door a bit wider, but not moving so you could let him in. Instead, you crossed your arms as he stood at your doorstep.

“I’m sorry. I did want to go out with you. But there was something I needed to do,” he said softly, looking down.

“And you couldn’t even think to call me?”

“I know I should’ve. I feel horrible, but my daughter needed my help, so I just couldn’t,” he confessed. Harry was really holding that in for a while, and he sighed in relief once he said the word. He noticed your change of face as it softens; you were taken back, and part of you was shocked because of how off guard that was.

“D-Daughter?”

“Yeah. I have a six year old daughter. She’s in the first grade with Mrs. Monet,” he confirmed with a small nod. He was really nervous telling you as his hands shook and his heart pounded, not knowing how you would take his news.

“How did I not know this?” You said, more to yourself than asking Harry.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I just…I didn’t know how you would take it, so I refrained from telling you,” he apologized. And he did notice that it was like he was apologizing to you a lot (the other time was from when he raised his voice at you); it wasn’t like he had trouble expressing his words or needs to say something, he just needed a minute to gather his thoughts and wait for how other people react to what he has to say.

“Harry, I teach the third grade where I absolutely adore my students, so I should love kids in general. I’m gonna take the news well,” you said more lightly, and your words made Harry’s shoulders drop as he relaxed a bit more. “What’s her name?” You asked as your anger with him had completely flew out the door, excited to hear all about her.

“Her name is Bella Anne,” he smiled as he looked down. You wondered why he was always looking down as if he was a shy kid, but you brushed it off until he spoke again. “I know it’s a lot to take in and I still have to explain what happened, and it may be too soon to others, but again, we’re on our own timeline…”

“What are you trying to say?” You asked curiously.

“Would you like to meet her?” He asked nervously, and a big smile was placed on your face as you excitedly nodded your head and said yes. “So, would right now be too soon?”

Your eyes widened, “Like right now?”

“Yeah, she’s actually right here,” Harry looked down and averted his eyes slightly towards the side, right next to the door frame as he brought his hand out. And that was when you knew why he was always looking down so subtly.

The little girl wearing blue denim overalls, a white t-shirt with a tan coat over along with some white sneakers, held her father’s hand as she looked up at you with her green eyes; the same as Harry’s. Your eyes immediately sparkle as you look at her, bending down so you’re eye level with her.

“Hi, Bella. It’s nice to meet you,” you smiled at her as you greeted her. She shyly smiled as she waved at you before looking up at Harry causing you to look up at him as well to see what he had to say.

“Go on, bub. Ask her what you wanted to ask,” he shook her hand in encouragement as Bella looked back at you.

“Have you had breakfast?” Bella finally spoke, and your heart flutters at how cute you think her voice is.

“I actually haven’t had breakfast yet. Why do you ask?”

“Because we brought breakfast for you!” She let go of Harry’s hand before she bent down to pick up the paper bag, smiling as she held as much as she could up. You gasped, placing your hand on your cheek from the thoughtful gesture.

“Well, I’ll only eat the food on one condition,” you proposed. Bella’s face dropped as she waited for you to tell her what that condition was, glancing up at Harry quickly before looking back at you. “You two have to join me for breakfast.”

With that, her face lifted once again as she beamed at you and quickly said an okay. You opened the door and moved out of the way so Harry and Bella could walk in. Bella skipped into your house with no hesitation as Harry called out for her, but you told him that it was okay.

“You didn’t need to do this,” he told you, feeling bad that he hasn’t even told you the full story of what had happened last night, and you being the angel that you are, openly invited both of them into your house when you had every right to slam the door in his face.

“Don’t worry about it. We’ll talk later, but for now, let’s eat? I got coffee ready,” you said, brushing it off, and he nodded, still knowing that the conversation needed to happen.

He followed you to the dining table where Bella had already taken the food out of the bag. She sat there proud of her contribution, and Harry said ‘good job’ and ‘thank you’ to her as he always did when she helped set the table. You got three plates from the cabinet and utensils from the drawer; the same ones you set from last night, but this time, with a plus one.

You and Harry opened the containers of food as there were various breakfast dishes for the three of you to share.

“So, Bella. What’s your favorite movie?” You asked, wanting to get to know her better.

“I like Mamma Mia! That’s one of my favorite movies, but the next one would have to be The Princess and the Frog!”

You gasped, “Mamma Mia is my favorite movie too! And The Princess and the Frog is an excellent choice.” Bella nodded, agreeing with you.

Harry watched the two of you interact; talking about all of your interests and dislikes, most Harry already knew about, so he sat back and ate as he thought the sight before him was the most precious thing he’s witnessed. He’s noticed Bella’s eyes gleam as she talked her heart out, and how you gave her your full attention when she did. And he thought that the interaction and connection was so important to him when he introduced a potential love interest to his daughter. The bond between you and Bella wasn’t like anything he had seen before, and he was grateful it was with you.

After an hour of talking at the table, Harry told Bella it was okay if she wanted to play on her iPad for a bit, and she nodded her head before asking you if it was okay.

“Of course you can, sweet,” you said, giggling a bit because she felt the need to ask you, but you thought it was sweet; the pet name completely slipped out as if it were natural for you to say it, but you think it really suits her, and by the way her eyes lit up when you called her that, you think she likes it as well.

Bella opened her backpack, grabbed her iPad out, before walking to Harry, whispering to him.

“Go on and ask her,” he said to her before she walked around the table to you.

“Do you think I can get the WiFi password please?” She asked politely, smiling to yourself as kids nowadays know so much of technology from a very young age.

“Of course,” you said before she unlocked her iPad.

You noticed her wallpaper, all too familiar because you were the one who took the picture. It was a picture of Harry in front of the sunset with his mouth open as he smiled with his two hands up, throwing peace signs at the camera.

“I like how you put your wallpaper as your daddy,” you complimented, looking up at Harry as he blushed.

“Me too! He went to this party type of thing, and I told him to take a picture in front of the beach!” She beamed.

“Yeah, bub. She was there,” Harry pitched in.

Bella suddenly gasped loudly, “Are you the pretty teacher that took his picture and bought us cupcakes?!” She asked excitedly.

“Oh, uh, yeah. That would be me,” you said as you nervously chuckled.

“Thank you! Those cupcakes were so good!” She thanked you, remembering how good those cupcakes tasted, and you told her that you were glad that you liked them.

After you typed in your WiFi password, you told Bella that she could sit on the couch in the living area.

“Twenty minutes, okay?” Harry called out as she walked away.

“Okay!” Her soft voice yelled back as she took a seat on the couch.

Your head turned towards Harry as he turned to you as well. Both of you had a moment of silence as you two looked at each with a soft and admiring look. Things were way different now as you now know Harry has a daughter, but in all honesty, you don’t mind it whatsoever. You’ve managed to adore that little girl in a matter of an hour and a half, and you think she’s the most beautiful little girl ever.

“So the pretty teacher, huh? I liked her wallpaper,” you said with a mischievous grin, and Harry snickered.

“Yeah, I kind of underexaggerated--should’ve said ‘the gorgeous teacher that I like who took the wallpaper,’” he flirted, and you raised your brows as you blushed, thinking that was incredibly smooth of him. After a minute of thinking how to go about this conversation, you spoke up.

“Do you want to tell me about last night?” You asked, and Harry nodded.

“Bella was a bit in a bad mood from the morning she woke up. Couldn’t really do anything to please her, so I was pretty frustrated because she couldn’t really explain what was happening to her, just threw a tantrum while holding her head, and then I figured out that she had a headache, and that’s no fun,” he explained, and you nodded as he said so. “It was literally hours of crying nonstop for hours. The only time she stopped crying was when I gave her something to eat,” he chuckled.

“Everyone stops being pouty after some food,” you joked.

“She did for a bit, but then it was right back to crying. My mum came over because she was supposed to watch her while I was with you, and usually her Nan would cheer her up, but not this time. After a few hours of trying to comfort her, she started becoming clingy, and when I would leave her side, she would just start crying. By this point, I was just exhausted, so I held her as she slept, which then resulted in me sleeping, also thinking I would wake up just in time, but waking up at midnight.”

The look on his face was a disappointing one as he couldn’t believe he missed the first official date, and if you were to forgive him, he’d make it up to you with every date you would give him.

“I understand, H. I can imagine being a single parent is hard. At least, I hope you’re single,” you tried lightening up the moods.

“Yeah, definitely single,” he confirmed with a smirk.

“Well, maybe not for long,” you teased at the fact of becoming his girlfriend sooner or later, and his heart started to race.

“Oh yeah?” He smirked. “Is that what you’re thinking?”

“Yeah. Are you?”

“I’ve been thinking about it, darling,” he responded honestly, glad to know you’re on the same page.

He could possibly ask right now, knowing you feel the same way about him as he does you, but with not showing up for the date and practically throwing having a daughter at you, it wasn’t the right time. He wanted it to be special, not during a time when he was explaining why he screwed up.

“Good. I’m happy we’re thinking the same thing.”

“Me too.”

There was a moment of quietness between you two, and the only thing that was heard was Bella’s game that she was playing on her iPad and the thumping of both of your hearts. Harry checked the time on his phone, realizing that he had to leave.

“What are your plans for today?” He asked.

“Just clean up around here, and perhaps go to the farmers market before they close.”

“Sounds lovely. The weather’s nice after all that raining last night,” he said, and you agreed. “I’m really sorry I wasn’t here though.”

“Harry, stop apologizing. Bella’s your priority and I totally understand.” He sighed deeply before nodding his head.

“Say, how about this: bring me that lovely dish you cooked yesterday for lunch tomorrow because I would love to try it, and this time, you come over to my house on Saturday for our date? I’ll cook you dinner,” he suggested.

The corners of your lips perked up as you nodded, “I’d like that.”

“Great. But we’ve got to go to my sister’s house right now. Can I help you with the dishes really quick before we leave?” Your face softened even more, thinking of how kind and helpful he is.

“No, I got it from here. Thank you, though.”

You and Harry got up as he called out for Bella, telling her that it was time to leave. Harry helped put her coat on as he muttered something to her. Bella walked over to you, and you bent down as you smiled at her.

“Thank you for letting us have breakfast with you and letting us into your home,” she opened her arms, and your heart fluttered as you opened your arms as well, taking each other in for a hug.

“It’s so great to have you both. You’re welcomed here anytime,” you said against her ear, and Bella hugged you tighter and you rubbed her small back.

After you two let go of each other, you walked them to the door, a bit sad that they had to leave, but you’re reminded that you’ll see Harry tomorrow and hopefully Bella around school.

“I’ll see you two soon. Drive safe, yeah?” You told Harry, and he nodded.

“Always do. I’ll text you?” You nodded, reaching up to give him a hug.

It was a quick hug that only lasted about five seconds, which was way too quick for your liking, but when you two let go, Harry pressed his lips against your cheek, and that totally made up for it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he smiled, and nothing came out of mouth, so you nodded instead and waved at the two.

You watched them get into the car and drive off down the street, far enough where you couldn’t see them, so you watched back into your house and closed the door, placing your palm on your cheek as you felt the warmness of your skin heat up from the softness of his lips. And you hoped that you would get to feel his lips again.

Meanwhile as Harry was driving towards Gemma’s house, Fleetwood Mac was playing through the bluetooth of his phone until Bella spoke up, causing him to lower down the volume.

“I really liked her,” she said.

Harry smiled, agreeing with her, “Yeah, me too, bub.”

“You’re right--she is pretty,” she confirmed, and Harry chuckled.

“Very pretty.”

“I hope I have her as my teacher when I get to the third grade.” Harry gasped, looking into the rear view mirror.

“What?! You don’t want me to be your teacher?” Harry asked her, but knowing that his own daughter can’t be in his class, according to the rules and policy of the school.

“I mean, maybe. But we might get annoyed with each other,” she stated, and Harry definitely agrees with her, but also loves how she’s not afraid of speaking her mind. “I hope I see her again soon,” Bella said, looking out the window as if she was in a dramatic movie.

“You will, bub, you will.”

And he meant what he said because Harry plans on keeping you around for a very long time.

It was Friday after school when you heard someone say ‘knock knock’ from the entrance of your classroom. You looked up from your laptop to find Harry peeking his head out into the door frame.

“Hi! Come in,” you said, standing up and taking your glasses off. Harry fully stands up straight, walking into your classroom. You walked towards him until a small figure that is Bella who is running straight towards you, excitedly.

“Oh, hi sweet!”

“Hi!”

“We were just about to leave, but figured we could stop by and say hi--or goodbye since we’re leaving,” Harry chuckled.

“Aw, that’s so sweet of you two. Well, I’m glad you two stopped by. I’m probably staying here for another hour or so,” you said, and you think that was probably the reason you also never knew Harry had a daughter because you two never leave at the same time.

“I also wanted to give you these,” Bella chirped, grabbing the box of cookies from Harry’s hands before giving them to you. “We made you these last night!”

“Wow, thank you so much. I’ll be sure to have some after I have dinner, but I just know they’re really good.” Bella nodded her head in joy.

“I heard you’re coming over tomorrow. I’m sad I won’t be there because I’ll be with Aunt Gem,” she frowned slightly.

“Yeah, I will be. But how about this: next weekend, with your dad’s permission and if you two aren’t busy that weekend, we can go to the park? Have a little picnic there and play some games?” You suggested that idea to her, and she immediately said yes.

“I’m definitely up for that plan,” Harry said, smiling from ear to ear as Bella jumped eagerly. “But for now, we really do have to go.”

You hugged Bella once more, telling her you couldn’t wait for your picnic together before hugging Harry as well. You became flustered as you remembered the time he kissed you on the cheek. And it happened again--every time you two had lunch together, he kissed your cheek hello and goodbye, and you blushed every time.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” you confirmed.

And you couldn’t wait for the evening.

As you knocked on Harry’s door, you were filled with nerves.

The night was a bit cold out, so you wore a pair of black jeans, topped with a red leopard top, and some three inch black booties, and of course, a black coat for outside. In your hands, you held two bottles of Chardonnay--a wine that is paired well with seafood. And although you don’t know what he’s cooking up, you do know you two are pescatarians, so it saves you from roaming down the wine aisle.

“You look absolutely gorgeous,” he complimented once he opened the door as he looked up and down at you. Harry was wearing a light blue vertical pinstripe button down with cream colored pants. His sleeves were rolled up, and his hair was pinned back with a clip. “Oh, sorry,” he said once he felt his clip that was still in his hair.

“No, don’t be sorry. You look really handsome,” you complimented back.

“Thank you. Come in,” he moved to the side of the door, stepping out of the way so you could walk in.

The Styles’ residence was a very cozy and welcoming home. You had already felt welcomed by the presence of Harry, but his home just made you feel even more welcomed and loving. It was the perfect size, not too big where it looks empty, but not too small so Bella can still run around. There were pictures hung up on the walls, a fireplace, and neutral colored furniture that complimented Prussian colored walls.

He led you to the kitchen, and you thought the kitchen was lovely as well with white cabinets and potted plants along the backsplash of the kitchen, which you assumed they were fresh herbs.

“So, I made some seasoned shrimp, and bought some ingredients that I’ve chopped up already for some shrimp tacos? We can do our own if you’d like,” he said proudly.

“I’d love that. Do you need help with anything?”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind?” You shook your head. “Do you mind grabbing the toppings in the fridge? They’re all in bowls.”

You made your way over to his silver refrigerator and took out all the bowls you saw, placing all of them on the counter in a line. Harry turned the stove off before grabbing two plates from the cabinet on the side of the stove, and handed one to you.

“So, these are raw tortillas, which I’ve already cooked and placed on the pan, so it’s really good.”

“Everything smells amazing. I can’t wait,” you smiled at him.

Impulsively, Harry leaned forward and placed his lips on your forehead as a thank you. Not really knowing he did it until he pulled back, you beamed at him, thinking the gesture was sweet and made your heart pound.

You and Harry assembled your shrimp tacos together, giggling when you both would reach for something at the same time, causing your hands to touch before one of you pulls back shyly. After, you followed Harry to the dining table, and it was a beautiful grey wood table with cream colored cushioned chairs. And you came to the conclusion that everything about Harry’s house was beautiful, including Harry and Bella.

“Thank you for coming,” he said before taking a bite of his taco.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?” You asked, and he gave you a sad look before you realized what he meant. “Harry, we’re passed that. It was one time, and you had to take care of your daughter. Yeah, I was angry when I was waiting for you, but only because I didn’t know what was going on. But I’m not mad anymore. Please, don’t beat yourself up with that.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I still feel bad about making you wait,” he frowned.

“Don’t. I’d wait for you if I have to,” you said, your words coming out as a double meaning to it.

As you and Harry ate, you complimented him again on the food as you both drank a glass of wine.

“Tell me about your family?” Harry asked.

“Hmm. Well, my parents are divorced. They have been since I was sixteen, but they still have a really great relationship with one another. They see each other occasionally, not often. But I have a younger brother; he’s two years younger than me and he works at a magazine company in the marketing department. My dad is in the construction business, and my mom is a pharmacist. Not really much to tell, we were--are a great family,” you told him, smiling to yourself as you remember how lucky you are to have the family that you have.

“Do you see them often?”

“Not as much as I should,” you replied honestly. Your family lives about ten hours away from you by car, which does not cooperate with the school schedule. But you do see them on holidays and whatnot. “Can I ask you a question now?” Harry nodded nervously.

“What’s your relationship like with Bella’s mom?”

“Uh, well…we were together for the last two years of uni. We moved in together during those two years, and everything was great until she got pregnant. She kept saying that her life was over, but I kept telling her that everything was going to be alright. It was pretty rocky from then. When she had Bella, I immediately fell in love with my baby. She was this precious little thing in my arms, and I was committed, y’know? But she didn’t feel the same way. She was having trouble bonding with her, and I told her that that sometimes happened and she shouldn’t give up, but one day, she told me that she was over everything. That she’s in the peak of her career and that she’d rather travel. Of course, that turned into an argument, but at the end of the day, that was her choice, so I didn’t bother anymore.”

“Does she still see Bella?” You asked hesitantly, and Harry can sense it.

“Maybe once a month? If not, then every other month. But they only see each other for about an hour, and that’s about it,” Harry said, and you nodded, not saying anything. “If you’re wondering, I don’t love her anymore, like, I’m completely over her. Just because she’s Bella’s biological mother, that doesn’t mean I love her,” he said, wanting to make sure you knew.

You chuckled softly at his assertiveness, “I know you don’t love her. You’re a wonderful father to Bella.”

“I try,” he said shyly.

“And that’s all that matters. She completely loves you and she looks up to you,” you told him honestly from what you observed. Harry doesn’t say anything but take in your words, and his heart flutters from it because everyone needs a bit of encouragement; it helps them keep going and to not give up.

There were no words that fell between either of your lips as there was no need for it; just the unspoken connection that you two shared as you stared at each other so intently, silently sharing a bond with one another that will mean something so deeply to you hearts. A blush settled on both of your cheeks, and it definitely wasn’t the wine because it was so much stronger; Harry had that kind of affect.

Harry placed his arms on the table, slightly leaning in. You did the same, and your faces were inches away. His hand reached up to brush your hair behind your ear before placing his palm on your cheek, your skin immediately heating up. As he looked at you, his thumb brushed your cheek and it was the most soothing and innocent action anyone has ever done to you, and it made goosebumps on your skin rise.

“Can I ask you something?” Harry asked.

“Anything,” you said softly.

In a moment of weakness where you would let this man do anything to you, you felt strong and powerful. You felt confident and beautiful. And you think that is so important in seeking a partner because they should make you feel like that even with the simple act of staring.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please do.”

Harry smirked, glancing down at your lips before looking back up at your eyes--something he’s accustomed to doing to you, and you noticed every time.

He placed his forehead against yours, nose touching as your lips were just a small movement apart. Harry’s hand moved closer to your mouth as he took his thumb and placed it on your bottom lip, pulling it down slightly. You were breathing deeply as you didn’t expect him to do that, but you were nonetheless turned on by it.

And when he went to caress your cheek again, he finally leaned forward and kissed you.

It was like everything you imagined. Through the years of tension that was building up, stealing each other’s belongings, the bickering, the days of daydreaming in class of how his lips would feel against yours, and all those nights imagining his lips against your skin—it all came down to something so explosive but marvelous at the same time.

The taste of Chardonnay adding to his own was something so sweet as his tongue brushed against yours as you grabbed the back of his neck to bring him in closer. Your lips molded together as if it were one, and there was no hint of rushing it even further. It was sweet and slow, taking in one another’s feel as the spark between you two heightened and bursted.

Once you two pulled back, and the appearance of swollen lips and being breathless, you two looked at each other and giggled, finally relieved that happened.

“Not sure if this is too soon, considering this our first date, but will you be my girlfriend?” He asked nervously, and your kissed lips turned up, smiling brightly at him.

“So, when you meant soon, that meant the next week, huh?” You teased, not completely answering his questions straight away.

“Precisely,” he chuckled, knee shaking under the table.

“But I thought you’d never ask sooner, so yes. I will be your girlfriend.” Beaming, you held his hand as you said so, and Harry’s face dropped.

“Really? You’re not messing with me, right?” He said shockingly.

“Of course I will! How could I say no?” You placed your hands on the sides of his face and caressed your thumb, meeting your pointer finger as you pinched his cheek ever so gently in a comforting way, and not childish one. And Harry finds it sweet and it might be one of his favorite things if you keep doing it.

Harry took your lips in with his again, knowing he won’t get used to the feeling of having your lips on his. It was a surreal feeling that he’s been wanting to happen for a very long time, and he’s talking about years, way before he even confessed his feelings.

After a few minutes of kissing and getting used to each other’s soft lips, Harry suggested moving to the living area. So, you two cleaned up after much declining from Harry as he rejected your help, but you helped him anyway.

Taking a seat on his couch as you waited for Harry to open the wine in the kitchen, you took a look around the living room. It was very warm and comforting; it made you feel safe. From the moment you stepped into his home, it had that sort of feel of security, like you were being wrapped up in a warm hug of love and safeness. And you absolutely loved it.

Harry finally joined you, taking a seat next to you as he poured more wine into both of your glasses—you two having the same amount.

“What’s your family like?” You asked, only knowing the basics of them.

“Well, as you know, I’ve got a sister; grew up with her and my mum. My parents got a divorce when I was seven, and it was a bit weird. I was young at the time, so I didn’t really know how to deal with it, but luckily mum always told me that it didn’t have to do with Gem or me,” Harry remembered that day so vividly as him and Gemma were sat on the couch of their childhood home as his mum and dad was in front of them.

“Did you still see your dad?” You asked.

“Yeah, we did all the time. I still do see him to this day. He was always an amazing father; never left us worrying. He’s an amazing granddad to Bella, and I really love their relationship.”

“That’s amazing,” you smiled fondly at him, and Harry agreed.

For the next hours, you cuddled up to Harry as you both talked about anything and everything as you two were a bit tipsy off your friend called Chardonnay, and off one another as the kisses hadn’t stopped. You hadn’t realized you were talking for so long that it was almost midnight, and you suggested you call it a night to get out of his hair.

“Wait, how about you stay the night?” He suggested instead.

“I shouldn’t,” you had sobered up during the last hours as you told him you’d pass on another glass of wine, to which he stopped drinking as well.

“No, please. I insist. I know that you’re a bit sober, but I don’t want you driving like this anyways,” his hand met your forearm, rubbing it slightly as a way to convince you, and the mere touch is enough for you to say yes.

“Okay,” you complied, nodded your head. Harry smiled, grabbing your hand as he led you to his room.

Walking into his closet, he told you to pick anything you’d like to wear as he went to change into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, but hoping you’d be okay with him sleeping shirtless.

You opted for one of his band tees and one of his a pair of shorts that were actually pretty short on you, so you were eager to see what it would look like on Harry. You met him in his restroom as he handed you a toothbrush and a makeup wipes, telling you that Bella liked to do makeup on him sometimes, so he bought wipes for it, and you told him that the next time she does it, to invite you over.

Once you and Harry got ready for bed, you had felt like you were intruding, but he reminded you that you weren’t and that if you wanted to sleep in the guest bedroom that he would be okay with that. But you wanted to spend the night with him, so you climbed into bed with him, the worries about things being ‘too soon’ or ‘too quick’ flew out the window as you both were on your own timeline of your relationship.

Harry pulled you into his bare tattoo chest, and luckily you were totally okay with him sleeping without a shirt on. You were amazed with his inked body, thinking how beautiful it is and wanting to look at every single detail of art that’s permanently on him. He kissed your forehead as you two made light conversation before your eyes dropped and slowly closed.

You were in his arms, sharing a bed with him for the first time on the night of your first official date where he asked you to be his girlfriend and your first kiss with him.

Everything had happened so fast, but with the warmth of his arms around you, feeling ultimate safety, it felt so right.

The next morning arrived and Harry already knew that the night prior was the best sleep he’s ever had.

He had been sleeping well, but he didn’t know what sleeping with you felt like until last night, and he loved every bit of it, even though he only had memory of the moment before falling asleep and waking up to you.

The hold on his girlfriend’s arms became tighter as he woke up from the morning light that was peeking through the shutters. It was a quiet Sunday morning; no one in a rush to get anyone as it was everyone’s day to sleep in.

The position you both were in as you cuddled was an interesting one. Harry had woken up to you both facing each other as Harry's arm was under your neck and your arm on his waist. But what was different was that his thigh was between your legs, squeezed together by them.

He didn’t want to move because that’ll wake you up, he’s sure. So, he laid still, brushing off the hairs on your face as he watched you peacefully sleep. You were quite adorable as you slept, even though there was a bit of dried up drool on the corner of your mouth. But still adorable.

After a few moments of laying there, his eyes were slowly starting to close as the silence took over, making him sleepy again. But after a minute of having his eyes closed, movement from you had startled him awake again.

You were still sleeping, and your position hadn’t changed, only the movement of your hips slightly grinding down on his thigh in your sleep had left him wide awake. He thought it was a mere coincidence of you jolting, but as you continued to do it, he knew that you were having some sort of dream. And he hoped it was about him.

Harry had been semi hard since waking up, but he felt himself start to grow harder in his pants as you let out quiet whimpers. He leaned forward, pressing a small kiss to your lips before kissing around your entire face in order to wake you up, thinking he could get used to this.

You stirred, but your hips didn’t stop, and Harry continued to kiss your face until you opened your eyes and yours locked with his as you started back a tad bit, looking at him.

“Morning, darling,” he greeted, bringing you back into him. There was a bit of a smirk on his face, and your eyes widened, remembering the dream you just had before you woke up. The familiar heat between your legs that made its appearance every time you had a glass or two was being relieved by Harry’s thigh.

“Oh, god. I’m so sorry,” you said, moving back to push his leg out from between yours, but he pulled you back in, placing his leg between yours again.

“No, no. C’mere. Don’t be sorry. Were you dreamin’?” He asked, voice deep and raspy from the slumber. And it only added to your arousal as you felt very wet inside of your panties.

“Uh, yeah. I was,” you replied, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand as you stretched, hoping to hide away the embarrassment you’re feeling.

“What about?” He consulted with a smirk on his face. You still had your eyes covered, but you know him all too well to know that he has a mischievous grin on his face, and you know yourself all too well to know that you’re red. Harry grabbed your wrists gently, pulling your arms. “C’mon, don’t hide from me please.” Once he held your arms down, you opened your eyes, meeting his gaze once again. “Wanna tell me about your dream?”

“It’s embarrassing,” you muttered.

“M’sure it’s not. I’ll tell you something ‘embarrassing’ if you tell me,” he emphasized ‘embarrassing’ as a sarcastic tone because he knows that it’s not really anything to be ashamed of.

After a few moments of thinking, wondering if Harry would laugh at you, you huffed as you told him. “Every time I have a few drinks, I tend to have some sex dreams.”

“Yeah?” He smirked. “What was your dream this time?” He asked curiously, but the look on his face tells you that he already knows and just wants you to say it.

Figuring that you’ve already confessed that you had a wet dream, you told him honestly. “It was about you.”

Harry’s brows raised at that, shifting closer to you before he briefly kissed your cheek. He hadn’t said anything, and it’s driving you insane because here he was, telling you to tell him, and once you did, not a word out of his mouth.

“Are you not going to say anything?” Your brows furrowed.

“How about you tell me all about your dream?” He suggested, and the crease on your brow flattened.

“W-What?”

“Yeah. Then maybe after, we can make those dreams into a reality.”

There was no stutter in his words. No lie in what he said. He had this raging hard on below him, and he knows that you’re probably wet already, so why not help each other out? After all, you two are together.

“How does that sound?” He asked when you hadn’t said anything, dipping his head down to kiss your neck. “Do you want that? Because it’s okay if you don’t. Although, I’d still like to hear about your dream-”

“No, no! I want that. I want that so bad, please,” you pleaded, eyes looking into him so innocently when your dreams were about him railing you.

“Do tell then, darling,” he gave you a kiss to your lips before, pulling back too quickly, so you pulled him by the neck, reconnecting your lips again.

Unlike last night’s kisses, this one was eager and rushed, knowing it’ll lead to way more. Your tongues met, and Harry grabbed the back of your thigh, squeezing the flesh, making you hiss out.

“So we were actually in the position,” you started your storytelling. “We kissed for a while,” Harry pecked your lips again, making you chuckle. “It felt nice, like I felt it through my dreams.”

“Maybe that’s because I was actually kissing you,” he pitched in.

“Maybe. And I really liked it.”

“Tell me more,” he hands roamed against your arm that was resting on his waist, and you could already feel the chills from his touch rise on your skin.

“Your hand sneaked down to my panties, and you teased me a bit, not putting your hand inside of them right away.”

“Like this?” As you said so, his hand trailed down your torso, slightly pulling your (his) shirt up to reveal a bit of your stomach as he raked his finger down your skin and to the hem of your shorts, dragging his nail along the hem.

“Yeah, like that,” you confirmed as butterflies settled into your stomach. “Then you took my pants off, and you touched me very slowly.”

“Can I take this off?” He asked, and you breathed out a ‘yes’ before he pushed the shorts down and you kicked them off your legs. You were wearing red lace panties, just like the top you were wearing, and he admired them for a quick second before taking them off.

“Can I touch you?” You asked suddenly as you were half bare in front of him.

“Is that part of your dream?”

You shook your head, “no, but I really want to touch you, if you’d let me?”

“Please do. I want you to touch me,” he gave you his consent, and you placed the palm of your hand on top of his clothed crotch, feeling him out as his hands roamed your thighs, Harry softly moaning from your touch.

“Take this off, yeah?” You referred to his boxers, and he briskly took them off, kicking them on the floor. You looked down at him, impressed by his size, but did do well with your wet core as he still hadn’t touched you yet. “Next, you rubbed my clit for a while as you kissed me.”

His fingers finally met your clit, and he rubbed as the wetness from your arousal had lubricated his fingers. He lifted your shirt up, and you slightly sat up for a moment to take off the material, finally fully bare for him, and the sight in front of him was to die for.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he said, fingers still rubbing you and his mouth immediately going on your breasts, kissing the skin and sucking on your nipples. You moaned out at both of the feelings of his hands and mouth on you.

Suddenly you felt his finger dip into your wet hole, plunging them in and out of you as he curled his fingers up, hitting that soft spot of your upper walls.

“Oh my, fuck,” you moaned out as Harry continued to kiss your tits.

“You like that?”

“Mhm. So good,” you felt as if you were about to come on his finger, but you held back, edging yourself and wanting the feeling to last longer.

You looked down at his cock as it stood straight up and looked quite painful, but Harry didn’t show it; only focusing on your pleasure and getting you off. But you cared, so you licked your hand, and grabbed his cock, pumping it slowly. Harry hadn’t expected you to do that as he groaned, throwing his head back, exposing his neck, so you leaned forward, kissing and sucking on the skin of his collarbone; not wanting to go too high up because he does have a daughter.

“Like that, darling,” he moaned out while you were pumping your hand around the tip, learning that was probably his most sensitive spot.

The thrusting of his fingers hadn’t stopped as well, alternating between fingering you and rubbing your clit as you started to grind against his hand.

“Do you wanna fuck me?” You asked straightforwardly, slowing down your movements as did he. “It was part of my dream,” you added.

“Y’know, you can just ask me to fuck you. Don’t have to say it was in your dream,” he smirked.

“True, but it really was in my dream. That’s why I was practically humping your leg,” you chuckled. “It’s okay if it’s too soon, I’m close anyways.”

“Yeah? Let me fuck with you then. Been wanting to feel you,” he smiled before turning around to grab a condom. He turned back around at you, his smile no longer there.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t have a condom.”

“Oh,” you said, trying to think if you had one in your purse.

“I haven’t had sex in about two years, so I don’t have any.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I have one either.” Neither of you said anything, trying to see how to resolve this situation. Harry could possibly go to the store quickly and get one, but you had a better idea. “We can go without one? I mean I’m clean. I have an IUD. I haven’t had sex in about a year, and I recently got tested and I’m clean,” you stated, and Harry nodded.

“Okay. I got tested about a month or two ago, and I’m clean as well,” he told you, not giving you a straight answer.

“So, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

With that, he crashed his lips onto yours, gladly taking in the softness of them. You moaned against his lips as he grabbed your ass, pulling your body closer to his while squeezing. His hand made his way back to your clit, rubbing it relentlessly, causing you to whimper from the sensitivity, and you physically pulled his hand out from between your legs and looked him in the eye.

“Fuck me already,” you demanded.

“Alright, alright. So bossy,” he teased, and you rolled your eyes.

Your chests were pressed together as there was no change in position, just the two of you on your sides, facing each other. Harry reached between you, grabbing a hold of his cock before running the tip up and down your slit, collecting your wetness to coat it. You slightly bucked your hips, urging him to put himself inside of you already, and he chuckled at your eagerness, but obliged as he slowly pushed into you.

The position was definitely different than what you were used to, but he was so deep into you that you felt him everywhere. You both groaned out, sighing in relief that you two finally made it this far. Harry started to thrust into you, grabbing your leg, placing it high on his hip, practically on the side of his stomach as he fucked you.

“Holy fuck, yes. That feels so good,” you screamed out as you placed your hand on the side of his face.

“So fuckin’ tight for me, yeah? Love the way I’m fuckin’ you?” He asked before taking in your lips with his quickly, and pulling away so you could answer him.

“Mhm. So big. Just like that,” you said, feeling him every time he hit that lovely spot inside of you, making you moan loudly.

“M’not gonna last,” he said, chest heaving deeply as continued thrusting. There was so much foreplay that happened before the fucking that he could’ve came with your gentle touch of your hand wrapped around his cock, and also because he hasn’t gotten a single bit of action in two years.

“Me neither,” you agreed, bouncing the way you can as you met his thrusts. Harry’s tongue met one of your nipples as you continued your movements, trying to get both of you on edge of an orgasm.

“Tell me what you need. Let me get you there,” he said, wanting to help you out.

“Play with my clit,” you breathed out, and his hand immediately went in between you to rub your sensitive button. Once you felt his fingers on you, it didn’t take you long to reach your peak. “Oh... shit, H,” you let out, voice shaky as your orgasm surged through you, whimpering his name out into the air, not ashamed with how loud you were being,

Harry took place of you, pounding into you as you rode your high. “There you go. That’s it, darling. Look so pretty cummin’ for me.” With sloppy thrusts, his orgasm rushed through him, finally releasing inside of you as groans came out and he smashed his face on the pillow. Moans of your name was practically all he knew as they came out muffled from the pillow.

You pulled him into your chest to calm down from his high, and the hot and deep breaths against your skin made you warm up as you scratch his curly hair lightly.

After a moment of being in each other’s arms, you felt his lips press against your collarbones, sucking the skin lightly. His head moved up to your neck, only kissing it as he knows not to leave love bites there because of work.

He pulled his head back, laying his head next to you against the pillow as he lazily smiled, looking so fucked out as do you. You moved to cuddle into his side as he gladly took you into his arms.

“That was amazing,” you said.

“Really, really good,” he agreed. “Did I do your dream justice?”

You giggled, completely forgetting that you started out telling him about your dream.

“Way better actually.”

“Can’t believe you’re my girlfriend now,” an overwhelming feeling hits him as his face is in disbelief.

“I can’t either. Do you think Bella would be happy?” You worriedly asked, hoping the little six year old, that you’ve grown to adore, would love to have you around often.

“Please. She would be ecstatic. She loves you so much already. But how about we don’t tell her yet? Just have you around, so she could get used to you, and then we’ll tell her?” He suggested.

“That’s actually a really great idea. I wanna make sure she likes me fully enough to tell her,” you said, and Harry nods his head, chuckling as you’re still not convinced Bella loves you already.

“Can you believe after five years, we’re in this position?”

You smiled fondly at the fact; you really couldn’t believe it nor would have guessed you would end up like this with Harry. But you knew all this time that he was a genuine person, and if he truly hated you from the beginning he wouldn’t have talked to you at all throughout the years.

“It’s crazy, but I’m so happy,” you smiled at him, eyes gleaming with happiness as you placed your hand on his stubbled cheek.

“Me too. Does that mean you’re gonna stop stealing my mail?” He joked, making you laugh loudly; the voice echoing the room. He smiled at you as he watched you laugh, realizing that might be his one favorite sounds right next to you moaning his name.

“Nah, I’m still gonna take your mail. But think I stole something else.”

“What’s that?”

“Well, I did steal your heart, right?” Harry blushed, a crimson red settling on his cheeks, and you gently pinched his cheek as you did the night prior. And he was right, he loved when you did that.

“Who knew you would be cheesy,” he teased, and you playfully slapped his chest. “But yeah, you completely stole my heart.” You smiled, cuddling more into his che

As you two laid on his bed in each other’s arms, there was a comfortable feeling that you two felt, knowing that this has possibly got to be the most safe you both have ever felt.

And as your chests pounded in sync, you thought that he had stolen your heart too, and you wouldn’t mind if he kept it.

hope you loved it as much as i loved writing it!

LETS CHAT IN MY INBOX ABOUT THIS! i’d love to hear your thoughts and feedback! <3

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plant-flwrs · 4 years

Text

house unity // fred weasley

masterlist!

a/n: this story has taken me so long and i feel like i’ve poured my blood, sweat, and tears into it. i love it a lot and you can really tell what i was watching/ doing in each sections lol. for example, the dramatic ending is courtesy of the heart wrenching sylvia plath poems i was reading earlier today lol :’) also i made the reader a ravenclaw because im a ravenclaw and i felt like it hehe. n e way! hope you all like it and pls leave feedback if you have any! like, rb, follow <3

summary: Fred Weasley and you have a bit of a love hate relationship, however, on Fred’s behalf its more love than hate. Dating a Ravenclaw would be a great stride in house unity, wouldn’t it?

(disclaimer: when i describe the differences in the twins i mean the actors! especially since she who shall not be named did not give us much about their physical differences >:/ i found the info from fandom.com so it may be wrong, but i went with it. also, i made up a few things for this story, like the annual Christmas ball)

(8.7k)

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You wished you could enjoy some things as easily as your peers could.

You didn’t like most sweets from Honeydukes, you didn’t care for Quidditch, but you especially hated the Weasley twin’s pranks.

In your first year, just weeks after arriving at Hogwarts, you had met Fred and George. You had been unable to answer the riddle to enter the Ravenclaw common room, so you decided to take a walk around the grounds.

You just turned the corner to the courtyard, when a hard snowball hit you square in the face. The sheer force of it made you stumble backyards, and you barely had time to wipe the snow off your face before another one hit you hard in the back. You were unable to keep your balance and tumbled forwards. Your hands braced your fall and scraped against the rough stone harshly. Your palms stained the snow red as they began to bleed. You barely had time to nurse them before another snowball, this time the size of a Quaffle, plummeted onto your head. It pushed you face-first into the snow, and you recovered quicker, not wanting to stay there for any longer. You whirled around, looking for anyone who could have seen who did that. You saw two boys with flaming red hair running away, and you followed them.

You caught them just before they entered the castle, all three of you winded. They were twins.

“Did you see who did that? Was it you?” you had pried, and both of them looked giddy.

“What’d you mean?” the shorter of the two answered immaturely.

The other looked down at your hands and robes, seeing blood still flowing from your palms, and your stained tights. He glanced at his brother, who was still laughing about it all and shoved his shoulder.

“You git,” he mumbled to his brother, “she’s bleeding,” he took your hands in his and tried to wipe some of the blood off, only for it to stain the sleeves of his sweater.

“Oh, gross!” the shorter one exclaimed, backing away from the two of you.

“How did you two do that?” you asked, pulling your hands away from the kinder one.

“Bewitched ‘em,” the short one said arrogantly before his brother could stop him.

“You bewitched them to attack me?” you felt tears stinging your eyes and hoped the taller one wouldn’t notice that too.

“Well, we didn’t mean ‘em to go after you,” the kind one said quickly, trying to rub the blood out of his shirt.

“Yeah, but it was still a laugh,” the shorter one said, nudging his brother’s shoulder good spiritedly.

“Shut up, Fred,” he mumbled, obviously annoyed, “we’re sorry about your hands, we didn’t mean for it to happen, honest.”

Fred watched you silently as you swallowed hard, only able to nod at them, accepting the boys’ apology. You turned on your heal and went to the infirmary, hoping Madam Pomfrey could mend your cuts. You had wiped your tears all the way there.

In your third year, you had been told there would be a Christmas ball. You had been stuffed in a large room with the Gryffindors, and you bumped shoulder to shoulder with a boy who had long dreadlocks.

Professor McGonagall and Flitwick stood in the center of the room, a large record player was next to them.

“As some of you may know, there is an annual Christmas Ball here at Hogwarts,” Professor McGonagall explained, looking sharply at the Gryffindors.

“Professor McGonagall and I have a tradition,” Flitwick said, casting a glance at the Ravenclaws, “of holding a class on how to dance properly at these events.”

“Think of it as charity,” McGonagall said devilishly, “we wouldn’t want you to embarrass yourselves.”

Flitwick stifled a laugh and moved his wand to turn on the music. Loud, old-sounding music blared from the ancient device and you looked confused at your teachers.

“Everyone, pair up!”

An awkward haze fell over the room of third years. None of you knew how to talk to the opposite sex, let alone dance with them. You turned to look around you, accidentally making eye contact with the Gryffindor boy with dreads. His eyes widened when they saw yours, and his friends behind you noticed. You looked at his friends, only to see Fred and George Weasley. You rolled your eyes at the two, but their friend was jolted forwards.

He bumped into you, Fred having pushed him lightly on the back.

“Go on Lee!” Fred shouted, laughing loudly.

People were moving to the center of the room in pairs, and Lee looked at you nervously. He held his hand out to you.

“Want to dance?” He asked you shyly.

You took his hand with worry, nervous about the wicked grin the twins had. That grin always worried you.

You let Lee lead you out to the floor, falling in line with everyone else. You both watched McGonagall looking around for a partner for her to demonstrate with.

Fred’s obnoxious laugh cut through the room, and her eyes landed on him.

“Perfect! Mr. Weasley, come be my partner.”

He groaned and moved forwards, his brother laughing loudly. Beside you, Lee had a wide smile.

“Place your hand on my waist,” she said flatly.

“Your what?” he repeated, his eyes going wide.

“My waist, don’t be daft,” she replied, moving his hand to the right place.

It seemed everyone’s cheeks had gone red due to stifled laughter. Lee bumped into you as he doubled over, not trying to contain himself.

In your fifth year, you were made a prefect.

You were hesitant to accept the position, feeling a bit tied down by the prat status that came with the responsibility.

Wearing your slightly dusted badge, you had never polished it like you saw Percy doing every second of his life, you led a group of Ravenclaw first years up the stairs.

“Right this way,” you shouted over their heads, making sure no one got lost.

“Who had the sense to make you a prefect?” Fred taunted, coming up from behind you and flicking your ear.

You moved to swat his hand away, but he had already jumped back.

“Shove off, Fred,” you shot him a glare and turned back to the children, “the stairs can get a bit confusing, so watch your step!”

Fred watched you admirably, noticing the way your voice changed to a sweet sound when you spoke to anyone but him.

“Yeah, watch the stairs!” Fred shouted, pulling you by your elbow onto a new staircase.

The steps moved away from the first years, taking you and Fred to the opposite corridor you wanted to go down. You looked down and realized how close you were to the edge. Without thinking, you grabbed onto Fred’s robes, pulling him closer to you. He tilted forward and nearly lost his balance, which would have sent you both down. He flung his hand out and firmly held onto the railing, suspending the both of you over the edge for a moment before he pulled you back up. You were close to his chest, still holding onto him until the stairs stopped moving. You hadn’t meant to close your eyes, but when you finally opened them you saw your group of first-years looking at you from the other staircase, seeming absolutely terrified.

You leaped from Fred’s embrace, sending him stumbling back a bit. You marched up the stairs to loop back to the first years and heard Fred calling after you.

“Going so soon?” you heard his laugh echoing off the walls of the room.

For most of your life, your interactions with Fred Weasley were that simple. Maybe once a year you two would spit some insults at the other, and be on your way, not to speak to each other until next year.

However, when you walked into your Transfiguration class, late by a few minutes due to your prefect duties, you felt a punch in the gut when you saw flaming red hair.

The punch in the gut was increased tenfold when you saw that the only empty seat was next to the flaming red hair.

Breathing deeply and sending a fake smile his way, you sat uncomfortably next to Fred.

It would have been difficult to tell them apart, but your observant eye had always been able to. Besides a few odd growth spurts they were prone to, George usually came out the taller of the two. Fred also had a small scar on his left eyebrow.

“Oh hello, prefect,” Fred said lazily, drawing back in his chair and folding his hands behind his head.

The bottom of his shirt rose a little and you willed your eyes to not look at the toned bit of stomach that peeked through.

“Weasley,” you said, pulling your textbook out of your bag.

“Looking forward to your new prat duties?”

“More than I’m looking forward to sitting with you,” you pushed your hair behind your ear and out of your eyes, Fred stared at the side of your face.

“Always so charming,” he finally drawled, leaning forwards and tugging his sweater down.

Something about Fred always made you want the last word, the last laugh.

“Only for you, Fred.”

In professor McGonagall’s opinion, Fred Weasley had the littlest appreciation for time of all the students she had taught.

He wasted his time in the common room, in the Great Hall, and in the hallways.

Even during her Transfiguration class.

He was happy to spend his time with what he thought was shamelessly flirting with you, and McGonagall was happy to embarrass him while he did it.

“Mister Weasley?”

Fred turned to look at McGonagall’s severe face. Before he could say any excuse, insisting that you were talking too, she waved her wand at his desk. His book flew open to the right page, and a force that was not his own was pushing his head into the book. His hair fell in front of his face, and you could tell he was fighting against the spell McGonagall was using.

Fred seemed to be tamed by McGonagall after that and didn’t bother you for the rest of the class. On the way out, he held the door open for you. He called out to you in the hallway.

“Good luck with that weird rash, Y/n!” you felt your cheeks burn furiously as laughs sounded off in the hallway. You turned to see Fred watching you walk away, and lifted both of your middle fingers in the air to him.

“So classy!” he called back.

“Shove! OFF!” you yelled, shouting over the now deafening laughter in the hallway.

You were already dreading the upcoming months.

You were right to, for class with Fred did not get any easier.

You traded your thin tights for thicker ones and your light dress shirt for a heavy sweater. Your blue scarf was wrapped tightly around your neck, and you didn’t bother to pin your prefect badge on it these days.

“Miss, y/l/n, you must remember your badge,” McGonagall said as you came into class.

You looked down at your scarf, patting your robes until you felt the metal. Lifting up your scarf and showing the professor the badge underneath it, you gave her a reassuring smile.

She nodded approvingly and waved her hand, you moved to your seat.

Before you could put your things down, Fred was looking at you. You could hear the gears turning in his head, thinking of something presumably rude to say to you.

“Weasley,” you said first, hoping this would inspire him to stop looking at you.

He blinked at you, before smiling and turning back to his textbook.

“Today, we’re going to be learning a vanishing spell,” McGonagall started.

You had already turned to the page before she told it to you, you had read through the entire textbook over the summer.

You heard Fred scoff next to you, but ignored him.

Looking down at the directions in the book, you had remembered your successful attempt at making one of your father’s shoes disappear. He had been so proud of you, he didn’t care that he only had one brown Oxford instead of two.

“How did you do that?” Fred asked, watching as you easily made the rat in front of you vanish.

“Practice,” you said absently, turning your head to look back into the textbook.

Fred began to try the spell himself, his focus on the goblet he had taken from the great hall. He did the right wand movements, but his pronunciation was all wrong. You watched as the spell rebounded off the goblet and hit his tie, making the bottom half of it vanish. His hand flew to his chest, his mouth curved in a disbelieving grin when he didn’t feel the point of his tie.

“Well, bloody hell, that could have been much worse,” he gasped out, pushing his hair off his face and leaning back in his chair.

You couldn’t help the small nervous laugh that escaped your lips, but you were able to stifle it quickly. Fred had noticed your smile and glanced at you, happy to amuse you.

The two of you sat in silence for a bit, Fred regaining his composure after nearly vanishing himself. You pretended to read your book, but you had already read the page dozens of times. You wanted an excuse to not talk to Fred.

“Ever going to turn the page?” Fred asked from beside you, and you became very aware of his eyes on the side of your face.

“I’m absorbing the information,” you replied flatly, keeping your head in the book to hide your blush.

He laughed, sitting straight in his seat. He seemed to be attempting the spell again. You bit your lip as you watched him practice, wondering if you should correct him so he doesn’t hurt himself.

He had just begun to say the spell when you placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Wait!” he glanced at you and your hand on his shoulder, smirking at you.

“Yes, darling?”

You rolled your eyes and felt the urge to gag. Your face crinkled in disgust and Fred smiled.

“Your pronunciation is wrong.”

“Well go on then,” he said, urging you to continue.

“Evanesco,” you said simply, but Fred’s eyes wrinkled in confusion.

“That’s what I’m saying,” he said, turning back to the goblet but lowering his wand, “Evenesco.”

He had replaced the ‘a’ with an ‘e’ sound, but he hadn’t heard it, you supposed.

“It’s ev-an-es-co,” you said slowly, placing your pronunciation on the ‘an’, “you’re saying ev-en-es-co.”

His eyebrows raised, finally understanding. He repeated it to you slowly, and you nodded your head when he said it right.

He smiled confidently, casting the spell on his goblet. The goblet turned foggy, and Fred could wave his hand through it like it was a ghost.

He sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

“This is miserable,” he groaned.

You waved your wand and said the verbal part of the spell, finishing off the goblet. It completely disappeared and Fred let out another groan, rolling his head back in annoyance.

“You’re miserable,” he said to you teasingly.

You looked at him through your lashes, your brows furrowed, “Whatever, Fred,” your face grimaced in annoyance, “I’m just trying to help, your welcome, by the way.”

You pulled your bag onto your lap and began to pack up your books.

Fred let out a sigh like he was going to say something. You turned to him, but he merely shook his head.

“Forget it,” he said, seeming to be at a loss of words.

You stood from your seat the second McGonagall dismissed class, leaving Fred at your shared desk.

“She’s totally into me!”

“She hates your guts, mate,” George said, pulling his lips into a thin-lined sympathy smile.

Fred scoffed and shook his head, his long hair falling over his forehead.

“You don’t get it,” he pressed, determined to make George see.

“She looks like she wants to throw herself into the Forbidden Forest every time she sees you,” George replied, determined to stop his brother from future heartbreak.

“Whatever, just you watch,” Fred said, tossing his Quidditch broom from hand to hand and looking at the massive stands above them, empty for the practice, “in a few weeks she’ll be in one of those seats, cheering me on.”

“He’s lost it,” Harry mumbled to George as he walked past, baffled by Fred’s dazed look.

George nodded hastily, following Harry away from his lovesick brother.

Fred was not often detoured by anyone’s cautionary guidance, so the endless warnings from George slid off his ego like melted butter.

Fred had spent so much time in the last Quidditch match with his eyes glued to the Ravenclaw student section, looking for you, that he had barely hit any bludgers the entire game. Oliver had some tasteful words for him in the changing rooms, but it was no worse than his mother’s screaming.

You were not at the Quidditch match, you never were. You had always used the advantage of the empty castle to go to the kitchens. The elves were the only ones left there, and you liked talking with them. Some times Luna would join you.

It seemed you and Fred were going opposite directions while searching for each other at the same time.

No matter how many cookies Dobby shoved towards you and Luna, you could not get Fred out of your head.

You thought about his arms wrapped around you on the stairs, you thought about the way he could always make your cheeks burn, and you thought of the way his eyes poured into your face like it was the only thing he’d ever seen. You hated him. He was rude, arrogant, and annoying. He ran around your head constantly.

McGonagall had some choice words for Fred that night after the match. The sulking from the loss had been toned down, but the hushed sounds of Oliver’s feet pounding against the floor in his bedroom could be heard all the way from the common room.

“Where is Wood?” she burst through the portrait hole, still in her robes she wore to the match.

“He’s upstairs, why?” Harry replied, looking nervous.

“I need to have a word with him,” she cast a glance at Fred, “and his methods of training his beaters.”

Fred and George both shot from where they sat on the couch.

“What?” George yelled.

“Don’t take that tone with me, Mister Weasley,” she squinted at them, “whichever one of you was looking around at the Rave-” she stopped before she could finish her sentence as if she had an epiphany.

Her pursed lips twisted into an evil looking smile.

“You know, Mister Weasley,” she took a step towards the boys and spoke to them only, “dating a Ravenclaw would show great strides in house unity,” Fred’s eyes bulged out of his head and George was already turning pink with laughter, “perhaps then you could focus on Quidditch again.”

George was nearly purple due to lack of air, and Harry’s mouth was agape in shock as McGonagall whisked her robes and swiftly climbed back out of the portrait hole.

“What is she on about?” Harry asked George.

Fred flopped onto the couch and covered his face with his hands. His life was over. If McGonagall could catch onto something like that, couldn’t you? You hadn’t started to flirt back, and Fred was beginning to wonder if George was right about your feelings towards him.

Soon enough, George was spouting everything McGonagall had said before he could catch his breath. He told anyone in the common room how much you hated Fred, and how much he desperately fancied you. Fred figured there was no use to stop him, because once again, if McGonagall could catch on, couldn’t everyone else?

Sunday morning was always rough for you. You pulled your heavy quilt closer to your cold cheeks, hoping for the sun to go back down and the weekend to restart. It never did.

You slipped on a pair of jeans and a tight turtle neck. Still feeling the cold air of the castle seeping through, you pulled on a sweater over the turtle neck. You tugged on some wool socks and pulled the fabric of the shirt as high up your neck as it would go.

You and Luna had plans to go to Hagrid’s hut today, he had promised her some magical flower seeds he had found in his garden. You liked to spend time with Luna, she was an easing presence and you always knew how to talk to her, even if most people didn’t.

You clutched an old muggle novel to your chest, hoping to trap some of your body heat. The hallways were surprisingly crowded for a Sunday morning, and you glanced at your watch, seeing breakfast had just ended.

You noticed that a lot of students with red ties were looking at you oddly. They would see you and smile widely, as if you were a new friend to them. You kept your head down until you met Luna in front of the great hall.

“Did you hear the news?” she asked before she even greeted you.

“What?”

“I just saw Harry, he said McGonagall told Fred to ask you out.”

You laughed, expecting her to do so as well. She didn’t and her face stayed stoic. She began to walk outside.

You were locked into place for a second before you jumped into line with her.

“What?” you repeated.

“Harry told me-” she began, but you waved your hands, cutting her off.

“No, I heard you, but what do you mean? What did McGonagall say?”

Luna had to have finally gone loony.

“He told me that after they lost Quidditch yesterday, she came in looking for Fred, she said he was quite distracted during the match,” she said, looking dreamily at you, “and she said something about how dating a Ravenclaw would be great for house unity,” Luna finished, toying with the tote bag at her side.

“Why did Harry think the Ravenclaw had to be me?” you asked, thinking there was a huge misunderstanding.

“Oh, well,” she said like she had forgotten a large part of the story, “after George heard what McGonagall said, he lost it. Harry said he laughed so hard he cried,” Luna giggled to herself while imagining the sight, “and he told everyone in the common room that Fred fancied you.”

Your face turned bright red with anger and embarrassment. The entire Gryffindor house had been laughing all night because George said Fred fancied you.

You were about to burst into protests, insist that it’s not true, but a gaggle of second years wearing red ties all pointed at you, talking among themselves.

You stepped towards them, making sure your prefect badge was visible. You watched their eyes flash down to the blue pin, and back up at your face, eyes wide. They scurried off and you fell back into place with Luna.

“That was rude of them,” Luna said, looping her arm with yours.

“Yeah,” you said quietly under your breath, your mind cloudy with thoughts.

You and Luna walked quietly out to Hagrid’s. You glanced up and saw the last person you had wanted to see.

Fred and George stood at the point where the path diverged to the Quidditch pitch and Hagrid’s hut, throwing a little flame-like ball to each other, bouncing it off their arms, feet, and chests. A small group of some younger kids had huddled around them, ‘ooing’ and ‘awing’ at each pass.

Fred had a large smile on his face, and the sight of it made your stomach churn with nerves.

You ducked your head down, hoping you and Luna would pass without a problem. You would not.

“Hi Fred,” Luna lifted a hand to wave at him, and the small light fell onto the ground as Fred saw you, “hi George.”

George smiled evilly at the sight of his brother nervously looking anywhere but you.

“Fun looking game your playing,” Luna said, trying to stop to talk, but you dragged her along.

“See you later Luna, Y/n!” George called out to the two of you, the laughter obvious in his voice.

“Why didn’t you want to talk to them? You could have asked Fred about what Harry said,” Luna asked you soothingly, looking at you curiously.

“I don’t know,” you sighed, feeling very overwhelmed, “it’s weird. I don’t even know what happened but the thought of it is so weird,” you paused, trying to grasp the words, “I mean, Fred can’t like me. We detest each other, its fun.”

“Well, do you like him?” she had asked the one question you were avoiding.

Fred had always been a thorn in your side. Ever since you met him he was rude. He never apologized for anything, he laughed, poked, and prodded at you for his own amusement. Yet, whenever you saw his soft-looking hair, you swallowed hard. When he inched closer to you, even just to whisper something rude, you felt your chest tighten. He looked at you, and you could swear he actually cared about what you were saying. Maybe detest was a little strong, perhaps just annoyed.

Granted, he was a teenage boy, and you are a teenage girl, mixed messages are bound to be sent. You thought you had been clear with your messages to Fred, though. “Leave me alone,” nothing bitter, nothing kind, just the wish to be left alone. Of course, Fred did not read your message that way. The enticing message he got was more along the lines of: “I’m going to pretend I want you to leave me alone, but please, don’t. Chase me through the hallways, confess undying love for me, kiss me passionately”. Now, it is entirely possible that Fred’s interpretation was a little clouded by his own wants and wishes, but this did not stop him.

The talk of the castle, for at least the following school week, was you and Fred.

You had never been whispered about, pointed at, or thought of like this. Fred seemed to be enjoying it.

In class Monday, Fred pretended nothing had happened. He swung his arm over the back of your chair and waited for the look of disgust to flash across your face, which it did, and he chuckled to himself.

Soon enough, the whispers and pointing had subsided, and they were replaced by odd looks as if they were disbelieving of something.

Luna found you in the courtyard sitting under a tree and skipped over to you.

“You hadn’t told me Fred asked you out,” she wiggled her eyebrows, “officially.”

Once again, you laughed, but she did not. She sat in front of you, crossing her legs.

“Oh my-” you trailed off, lifting your head to look at Luna, “what’s happened now?”

“Hermione told me that Fred has been raving to everyone about how you’re dating.”

Your eyes were wild with disbelief. You couldn’t have even comprehended what was going on at this school these days.

“Well, no one’s told me that we’re dating,” you said, your voice riddled with annoyance.

In perfect timing, Fred, George, and Lee bounded from the school and out to the courtyard. They were laughing and shoving each other, looking to be having a great time.

You stood from the ground, dusting off your pants and walking over to the three with fury.

“Fred!” you called out to him, and he stopped and turned to you.

A look of fear flashed on his face, but he covered it with something else, was it admiration? Love?

You clenched your jaw and narrowed your eyes, stepping close to him. He tilted his head down to look at you, a small smile on his lips.

Around you, George, Lee, and Luna stood with their arms crossed, watching intently.

Your bodies were almost touching, and your finger stabbed into his chest.

“Who do you think you are?” you said in a hushed tone through gritted teeth.

Once again, Fred’s face fell for a moment, before he wrapped his arms around your waist in some sort of embrace. You squirmed from his touch and backed away from him.

“Who do you think you are?” you repeated, this time louder. George and Lee flinched from behind you.

“What do you mean, sweetheart?” he asked sweetly.

Your face twisted with confusion, what is he on about?

“What?”

He continued, stepping closer to you.

“Are you feeling okay?” he asked earnestly, moving to rub his hand on your arm.

He was trying to flip the script, make you feel crazy.

“Fred, you’ve lost it, really,” you replied, walking back to the tree to gather your books.

“Maybe when you’ve regained consciousness,” you walked back up to him, keeping your distance, “or the effects of whatever potion you took start to wear off, please try to explain what is going on.”

You walked away from them, leaving Fred with a wicked smile.

“Alright, see you later!” he called out to you.

You turned your head to look at him, your hair blew in front of your face but Fred could see your puzzled expression. His smirk grew wider and he turned to George, Lee, and Luna. They looked awfully concerned.

“Oh,” he placed his hands on his hips, “isn’t she great?”

You had gotten to Transfiguration early, your prefect duties switched for the week. You crossed your legs and placed a book on them, reading discretely while McGonagall was still in her office.

Just as she began to address the class, Fred strolled in, hands in his pockets. He slipped into the seat next to you and you bookmarked your page. You scooted your chair in and slipped the worn book into your bag, listening to McGonagall begin her lecture. Monday’s were often boring lecture days in Transfiguration.

You heard the screech of Fred’s chair on the floor, and in the corner of your eye saw him moving closer to you. He rested his elbow on the desk and placed his chin in his palm. He leaned close to you.

“Hello,” he whispered, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

You ignored him, dipping your quill into your ink in case McGonagall said something note-worthy.

“What’s ‘a matter,” he paused as if he was thinking of the most annoying thing to say to you, “darling?”

You audibly gagged, and his smile widened.

“What do you want?” you caved, asking him.

“Oh nothing,” he leaned back in his chair, still whispering to you, “just for you to be my girlfriend.”

You went rigid. Your face suddenly got very warm. You lost grip of your quill and it toppled over your ink, sending dark liquid across the desk and onto your white sleeve. You cursed loudly out of reflex and it caught McGonagall’s attention.

“Excuse me, Miss Y/l/n?”

Everyone turned to look at you and Fred in the back of the room, some people smirking. Fred stayed leaned back in his chair, watching you.

“I’m sorry Professor,” you stumbled out, wiping both the ink and your sleeve at the same time, making both things worse, “I just-”

Fred pulled his wand out from beside you and did a simple cleaning spell, you supposed. The ink receded back into its bottle and the stain on your sleeve disappeared. McGonagall watched him intently.

“Very resourceful Weasley, Miss Y/l/n, please don’t disrupt my class again,” she said curtly, returning to the lesson.

You heard a few snickers from your classmates, your face still a deep shade of red. You swallowed hard as you felt your heart beating in your ears.

Fred leaned forward again so his mouth was aligned with your ear.

“What do you say?” he whispered.

“What are you talking about Fred? Why are you doing all this?” you asked, straining to keep your desperate voice in a whisper.

“I’m only having some fun,” he replied as if he hadn’t been making your life a living hell for the past weeks.

You shot him a pleading look, and when he saw your flushed cheeks and watery eyes, his face softened.

“Hey,” he placed a hand on your knee, a knot formed in your throat and shivers went down your arms, “I didn’t mean to-” he trailed off and your jaw clenched. You returned your gaze to the front of the class.

“Listen, I’ve just been,” he paused, searching for the words, “I’ve been playing a sort of prank. On everyone but us.”

His tone was soft and playful as if he were letting you in on a secret. You supposed he was.

You raised your eyebrows, pressing him to continue.

“Well, George basically told everyone in our house that I fancy you, so I wanted to have some fun with it, switch it on them.”

You pressed your eyebrows together, still looking to the front of the room while Fred was inches away from your ear.

“I’ve told everyone we’re dating,” he said plainly, “house unity and all, as McGonagall said.”

“So that was true? What Harry told Luna?” you said before you could stop yourself, happy to finally get answers.

“Well, I don’t know exactly what Harry said, but I’m sure he didn’t leave anything out.”

“Why did George tell everyone that? That you,” you trailed off, feeling the words choking in your mouth, “that you fancy me?”

“Because I do,” he said quickly, and just as quickly moved on, “so what do you say? Want to be my girlfriend-” he paused, realizing what he had just said, “well, my girlfriend of sorts, not like my real girlfriend, because I’m sure you wouldn’t want to, and-” he stopped himself.

This time it was his turn for his cheeks to burn and his eyes to awkwardly avoid yours.

“Why do all this? Seems a lot for a joke that no one but us will laugh at,” you said, trying to ignore his confession.

“I’m willing to go to the ends of the Earth for a joke, my dear.”

Fred was dreadfully serious when saying that, and this became clear within hours.

Walking past the Dungeons and up the many stairs to your common room, you heard Fred call out to you.

“Wait up!” he was breaking away from a large group of Gryffindors, and all of them watched him with a keen eye,

“What, Fred?”

“Hey, that's not a very girlfriend-y tone,” he wrapped his arm easily around you.

You were sure it was meant to be sweet, but it felt a bit imprisoning.

“I never agreed to this,” you didn’t shake off his arm, but you felt inclined to. You were aware of the many eyes pouring into your back.

“I thought we had? Oh,” his arm left your shoulder, and you felt a little colder, “well then I suppose I could leave it all be, go back on my word, humiliate myself.”

His tone was a playful one, and you couldn’t help the bashful smile that reached your cheeks. You knew you had no obligation to Fred, but the whispers and gossip had seemed to subside during this new joke of his. You stopped at the landing, and the group of Gryffindors walked past you, staring at you both. Fred waved them off and nodded his head towards you, smiling.

“Why should I?” you clutched some textbooks to your chest, feeling grateful for the wall it put between you and Fred. He looked down at you, his hair falling into his forehead.

“Well,” he stuffed his hands in his pockets, inching closer to you, “as I said, I just think it could be a bit of fun.”

“Fun for you. What’s in it for me?”

“What? Besides utter fame and popularity from being associated with me?”

“Oh shove off, Fred,” you rolled your eyes at him, but once again could not help the smile that spread across your face.

“See? I’m growing on you already.”

“I’m still seeing no benefit for me.”

“Well, I do see where your coming from, but I’d like to raise another point,” he slipped a hand from his pants and waved it casually while talking, “I will indeed pretend like we are dating even if you don’t.”

“So essentially, you would just be flirting with me while I hurl insults at you?”

He nodded enthusiastically.

“Is that the image you want, Fred?” you teased.

You moved to lean against the wall behind you, and Fred trailed after you.

“Any image is a good one,” he winked dramatically at you.

You shrunk away from him and gagged, sending him into a fit of laughter.

“I hate it already.”

“So you’ll do it?” he asked.

You breathed in, looking at him seriously. His hazel eyes were dark in this light, his hair had gone a deeper red in the lack of warm weather and sunshine. He towered over you slightly, and you looked at him through your lashes.

Shrugging your shoulders, you agreed weakly.

Fred saw the error of his thinking almost immediately. Walking through the hallways with you, he felt his heart soar higher and higher each time you laughed. When you would loosen up, or walk a little closer to him. He was being awfully unfair to himself, making himself think that you had something, some sort of relationship. It was like dangling a treat in front of a dog and wanking it away right when the dog drooled.

He saw the flaming house, and still walked in, looking for a place to sleep.

“Why, hello,” Fred drawled, coming up from behind you in the hall.

You felt his hand snake around your waist, and he pulled you. Your feet twisted from under you and you twirled, turning to face him. Your hair had skewed into your face, and he watched your delicate hand reach up to brush it away.

You looked dazed as if you had a lot on your mind. He smiled down at you and you did your best to reciprocate it.

“Are you alright?” he asked, dropping his hand from your hip.

“Yeah, just-” you took a deep breath in, “just got a lot of homework, been a bit busy with my prefect stuff.”

This was not what was bothering you. You felt a lot of inner conflicts these days, an endless moody and angsty monologue sounding off in your head day and night. You felt odd. You felt odd for agreeing to Fred’s stupid plan. You felt odd for toying with him and yourself. You had disliked him just last month, and now you let him wrap his arm around your shoulder, let him hold your waist. You felt like a traitor to yourself, letting him win you over with a few charming looks. You felt even worse when you thought of Fred’s confession. He had said he fancied you, and the idea of pretending to date him didn’t alarm you for some reason. You hated the feeling of toying with his emotions or allowing him to live out some sort of fantasy. Everything about it made you feel awful.

You didn’t feel as awful, though, when Fred would call out a comment from across the dining hall that would make your cheeks burn and all the other girls swoon. You didn’t feel as awful when he would sit in silence with you by the black lake, keeping you company among the chilling wind. You didn’t feel as awful when he slipped little notes into your bag when you left Transfiguration.

You had enough, one too many genuine looks of admiration. You needed to tell Fred how you felt.

You caught him on his way back from Quidditch practice. He was trailing near the end of the group, huddled with George and Harry. He had some dirt on his forehead, and his cheeks were tinted pink. He smelled of grass and sweat.

You pulled your cardigan tighter around you, wishing you had brought your scarf. Your hair whipped in the wind around you, and you rocked on your feet.

You began walking to him, and when he saw you he smiled widely.

“Hey!” he called out, walking faster to meet you.

“Hi,” you said nervously.

“I’ll meet you guys back in the common room,” he told George and Harry, who glanced over their shoulders at the two of you.

It was dusk and he looked strikingly handsome. You felt like you were seeing him as a different person. He wasn’t the boy who bewitched snowballs to attack you, he wasn’t the boy who laughed at your scraped hands. He wasn’t the boy who shoved Lee at you, and he wasn’t the boy who awkwardly danced with McGonagall. He was the boy who held you in his arms, stopping you from falling over the stairs. He was the boy who looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world, he was the boy who held you above anything else.

Your mouth was agape as you looked at him, he stood awkwardly waiting for you to say something. You looked at the ground, licking your lips and feeling them dry as soon as the cold air grazed them again.

“I wanted to talk to you,” you said quietly, hoping your voice would fade into the wind and carry you away.

“What’s up?” he looked down at you nervously.

“Fred, I-” he cut you off, placing a hand on your arm.

“You can’t do this anymore?” he looked deeply at you but you couldn’t meet his eyes.

You didn’t want to have this talk anymore, you felt content, suddenly, in pretending. You could both pretend to love each other until it wasn’t pretending. The lines would blur and soon, his kisses would come easily and his hands would have their place on you. You would touch his soft hair and know his eyes only looked at you. But you had already said the words, or rather, he did.

“I just,” you kicked the dirt beneath you, hoping he would finish your sentence again, he didn’t.

“I don’t think its fair,” you looked up at him finally and felt surprised to feel tears in your eyes, you blinked, forcing them to subside, “to either of us.”

You heard him gulp, and his eyes moved to look at the castle behind you. The candles had been lit and the stone glowed from the inside.

“I get it,” he said, removing his hand from your arm.

You looked down at where his hand had been and felt a tear drip down your cheek.

“Fred-”

He shook his head, pulling his mouth into a line. You stopped talking, feeling the words stuck in your heart.

You really wished you hadn’t said anything. You wished you could pretend again.

He walked past you, leaving you in the dusk. You hadn’t meant to, but a sob escaped your mouth. You heard his feet shuffle for a moment, and stop. He walked back to you.

He had finally been able to fall asleep among the fire, and it seemed you had come to join him at some point. He didn’t know when, but looking at you now, it seemed you had been burning for a while.

“What’s got you so torn up about this?” he said gently, stopping a few paces away from you, “Didn’t fall in love with me, did ya?”

A laugh fell from your lips at the same time another sob did. Your shoulders hunched over more, and Fred’s heart hurt him. He walked to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. You turned to face him, and you both moved at the same time. He pulled you close into his chest and your cheek pressed against him. He smelled, he was dirty, and he was tired, but he still held you tighter than you had ever been held before.

You pulled away from him after a while, coming to terms with yourself in the moment of affection. You wiped your tears from your face with your sleeve, taking a few deep breaths.

“I think,” you hiccuped, feeling it hard to speak, “I think that the pretending was too hard.”

Fred felt guilt wash over him. He felt guilty for himself, because you had said exactly what he was feeling. He couldn’t stand to pretend, to keep himself from gripping your hand, or from kissing you any chance he got. He wanted it all to be real, he wanted this wall between you to crumble into a genuine relationship. He felt guilty for making you feel this way. He felt guilty for pressuring you into this allusion of intimacy. He hadn’t stopped to consider if this would be negative for you, only insisting it would all work out for the best.

As he watched your uneven breathing and swollen nose and eyes, he knew this was not the best.

He breathed hard, forcing himself not to cry as he looked at you. George was supposed to be the sensitive one, but Fred had always been a sympathetic crier.

“Me too,” he replied, his voice sounding far, far away.

You looked at him, feeling terrified. The cold air was moving through you liked you were transparent. Tears kept flowing down your face, and no matter how fast you dried them, you only cried more. Your head felt miles away from your body, so you stepped closer to him, hoping to step closer to yourself too.

“I don’t think I want to pretend,” you croaked out.

He blinked at you, and you saw a single tear fall down his cheek. He didn’t move to brush it away, and it moved slowly. It left a clean mark on his dirt-stained face.

You took a step towards him, covering your hand with your sleeve. You cupped the back of his neck with one hand and brought your sleeved hand to his cheek. You wiped the tear and the dirt away, but your hand didn’t move. You peaked your fingers from your sleeve and they grazed his face. His eyes fluttered closed and your throat tightened as more tears poured from your eyes. Your vision was blurry as you traced his face, moving over his nose, eyebrows, and lips. You stopped to cup his cheek, and he leaned into your palm. You felt the wetness of more tears fall onto your hand, and you bit your lips, holding in a wretched noise.

“Fred?”

His eyes fluttered open, and you realized his hands had found their way onto your waist, he held you tightly.

“Do you want to pretend?” you asked him.

He moved his head from your cheek and kept his wet eyes locked with yours.

“I want you,” his voice was hoarse and sad, but that was all you needed to hear.

You buried your face into the crook of his neck and he wrapped his arms around you tightly.

The dusk had turned into the night, and you pulled away from Fred. You looked up at him and swallowed away the tears that remained. You began to walk past him and up to the castle. He followed you quickly.

You were scared. You had safety in pretending, knowing this was all something for fun. But as you looked at Fred now, you saw something deeper. You saw the threat of genuine love and connection, the threat of heartbreak.

Neither of you wanted to go without the other tonight, you had decided. You wordlessly followed him to his common room, and he slipped his hand into yours. You had both ducked into a prefect bathroom on the way there, looking at yourselves and covering your swollen eyes.

He said the password to a portrait of a large lady, and she looked suspiciously at you both.

“Are you two alright? You’ve just about missed curfew,” she said, her voice booming through the staircase.

“Yeah, we’re alright, just tired from practice, is all,” Fred reassured her, and the door swung open. He walked in first, and you followed.

You relished in the warmth of the spacious room, feeling drawn to the fireplace. You walked over to it and sat on a large couch. The room was relatively empty, a few kids hunched over books.

Fred sat next to you, still in his Quidditch robes. He grabbed your legs with his hand and guided them to rest on one of his legs, hanging over it. This angled your body to him, and he moved his arm to wrap around you.

“When did you realize?” he asked, his face lit by the fire.

“Just then, when you walked up to me after your practice.”

His chest moved with a chuckle and you moved your head to looked up at him.

“Well that's a little embarrassing for me,” he said, pushing a piece of your hair out of your face while you gazed up at him, “I've known since I met you.”

“Shut up, no you didn’t,” you said lightly, assuming he was trying to be some sort of romantic and inflating the truth.

“I did,” he said seriously, “I teased you for so long for a reason.”

“Because you’re an idiot?”

“Yes.”

You both laughed, pulling each other closer.

“And because I liked you.”

You rolled your eyes, sinking deeper into him. You felt yourself getting tired and you peered up at him. His eyes were half-closed and his face was drooping.

“Fred, you’re tired, why don’t you go to bed,” you began to move off of him, but he pulled you back.

“Only if you make me a deal,” he said mischievously.

“What?”

“I’ll go upstairs and take a quick shower, but only if you come with me,” he replied.

“I am not showering with you, pervert,” you smacked his arm and stood from the couch, blushing furiously.

He smiled and grabbed your hand, turning it to kiss your palm. You shivered at his touch.

“No, just come lay with me,” he looked up at you, suddenly serious, “I want to be with you tonight.”

Your heart sank to your stomach and you bit your lip. You couldn’t speak, so you nodded your head slowly.

Fred fished his wand from his robes and waved it towards the stairs, performing the counterspell for the stairs. You followed him up to his room, where he put his finger to his lips, signaling for you to be quiet. When he cracked open the door, it was dark and the curtains for the beds had been drawn. He crept over to a chest at the foot of his bed and looked at you before turning to its contents. He pulled out two large pajama pants, both plaid, and two heavy sweaters. He tossed one of each on his bed and took the others with him.

“Here, you can sleep in these,” he whispered to you, and it felt like you would blush forever.

He smiled softly at you before closing the curtains for you, leaving you to change.

“Oi, mate,” you heard someone’s annoyed and hoarse voice, “what took you so long? Practice ended an hour ago.”

“I was talking with Y/n,” you heard the bathroom door open, “I’ll talk to you about it tomorrow, I’m gonna shower. And don’t wake me up for breakfast tomorrow, I want to sleep in.”

You smiled to yourself, holding the soft sweater in your hands. It had a large ‘F’ on it, and you traced your fingers over it. You slid out of your jeans and folded them, placing them on the floor by the trunk. You slid on the pants he gave you and silently laughed as they easily ran past your feet and dragged on the floor. You folded them at the waist, and they were still too long. You had just slipped on the sweater when Fred slid open the curtain. He watched you fold your shirt and place it with your jeans. His eyes trailed from his sweater to the way his pants covered your feet. He smiled widely and drew you closer to him by grabbing your hips.

You looked up at him, your chests pressed together. He brought one hand up to your jaw, tilting it up to align with his face. His lips parted and so did yours, the air between you becoming a mixture of your breaths. His was minty, he must have just brushed his teeth.

His thumb grazed your bottom lip, and he finally closed the space between you. His neck craned down to you, but when you stood on your toes he was able to stand straight. You pressed as close to him as you could, and so did he. His lips were warm against your cold ones. He felt the many places that had been chapped and bitten, running his tongue over them slowly. You sighed and ran your chilled hands up his sweater, feeling him shiver beneath you. Your fingertips grazed the muscles on his back, tracing every line you could feel.

You pulled away first, sinking down to stand flat on your feet and rest your forehead on his chest.

“I’m so glad we didn’t pretend to do that,” Fred laughed out, pulling you close to him.

You smiled and hugged him, before moving to the other side of the small bed. You both slid under the covers silently, thinking that if either of you said something, things would suddenly be awkward.

The lack of bed only made him hold you tighter, and the two of you fell asleep relatively soon.

You were awoken by the sounds of laughter. The curtains were still drawn, and Fred’s arm was still wrapped around you. Your leg was resting on him as he laid on his back, hugging you close to him. Your head lifted from his chest as you squinted your eyes.

“No, he said he wanted to sleep in, mate,” you heard George say. The door opened and you heard footsteps walking towards it.

“You think they finally told each other?” Lee asked George, pulling on a wool hat.

“I hope so, bloody awful letting Fred think he tricked us,” George said before closing the door behind them.

You smiled and let your head sink back onto Fred. He stirred and pulled you closer to him. Through the fabric of his sweater, you swore you could hear the steady rhythm of his heart.

#fred weasley #fred #weasley #weasely family #fred weasley fanfiction #weasley twins #fred weasely fic #weasley fic #fred fic #fred weasley imagine #fred imagine #fred x y/n #fred x ravenclaw #harry potter #hogwarts #ravenclaw #fred weasley x reader

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harryhandstan · 4 years

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This concept has been in my head for a while now and it took me like a month to write and edit and just get it all out! I had surgery two years ago today and it was one of the most emotional, stressful experiences of my life simply bc I’m just a big baby lol. This is just something to celebrate that day and the fact that I’m still so happy it’s all over! Fluffy af as usual cause that’s all I know how to write. :)

Thankful to @bfharry and @bopbopstyles for not only inspiring me with their amazing writing but pushing me towards finishing this and reaching (even going over) my personal 5k goal! I appreciate you both so much!!

I recently saw a post about tagging triggers properly so I’m gonna do it that way but if I do it wrong or it doesn’t work PLEASE let me know and I will fix it immediately (just want to be sure all my bases are covered)

// needles tw, pills tw (prescription), anxiety tw // (if I missed anything I should’ve tagged please please let me know!!) and I’m sure there are some medical inaccuracies bc that whole day is kind of a blur for me haha

as always likes/rbs/comments are welcome but absolutely not necessary :)

final word count: 7.1k

"Y'nervous, angel?"

"Hmm?"

"Bout to chew your finger off. I know there can't be much of a nail left."

Your hand drops back to your lap. You hadn't even realized you were doing it. A bad habit of the nervous child you thought you'd long forgotten. He offers his left hand and you accept it, thumb swiping over the cross painted across his skin. He knows it's one of your favorites and you're thankful for the comfort. You don't know how many times he'd teased you about how you would eventually rub it off one day and he'd have to get it redone.

"S'a routine surgery, I bet they do them all day. You're gonna be fine."

You'd been over all this a thousand times before. Harry had to ban you from looking up the procedure online at one point. You became obsessive with worry. What if you're still awake when they cut into you and you can't talk? What if you feel everything and can't tell anyone? What if you don't wake up? He had shot down every one of your horrifying theories.

"How much longer before they take me back?"

"Nurse said it would be about 10 minutes when we checked in. Shouldn't be too much longer. Want me to check the board again?"

Checking in had only consisted of a nurse taking your name and giving you your bracelet for the day with an ID number. The number would help Harry stay updated on where you were throughout the whole process. The "board" was simply a tv mounted to the wall that frequently cycled through each patient's last name and ID number.

"No, no," You cling to his sleeve like a desperate child, "Don't leave again. She said they wouldn't update anything until I went back anyway."

Harry had left you only briefly when you first arrived. Hands in his pockets, wandering around like a lost child around the big, open expanse of the waiting room. He stayed where you could see him and the whole time you had anxiously chewed your bottom lip until he returned. You hated it, but you knew he was just as nervous as you. So you let him have that moment. To check his surroundings and release some of the nerves so he could come back to you, calm and cool as always.

When the nurse does call your name, you almost jump out of your skin. You freeze, unable to move. Harry stands and flashes the nurse a quick smile before turning back to you and offering his hand.

You shake your head, "I can't do this, H. I feel like I'm gonna throw up if I move."

"You're not, promise. Remember those breathing exercises we practiced? Do those. C'mon..deep breath in. Pause. Slowly let it out. Do it while we walk."

Slow deep breath in. Pause. Slowly let it out.

You remember how silly you felt the first time you did it. How it made you giggle at first. This is never going to work. But eventually it did. Anytime you got upset or started to overthink about this day, Harry made you stop whatever you were doing and sit down. Breathe.

It was a little difficult to do while walking. Your body wanted to pause your steps when your breath paused, but Harry tugged you along, you almost hiding behind him until you made it through a set of heavy wooden doors to a small space with a hospital bed and a curtain drawn in front of it.

The IV had had been your biggest dread, the fear overriding any logic that it was something you needed, instead of something the nurses decided to do simply to torture you.

Your face twists into a wince of pain when the needle goes into your vein, Harry standing over you, his face a mirror of your own as you squeeze his hand. When the nurse pulls away with a triumphant "all done!" you flash a look of surprise between your arm and Harry.

"Not that bad, eh? Think ya overreacted a bit about how bad that was gonna be?" He raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to shoot him a nasty look for teasing you.

"Maybe a little." You pinch your index finger and thumb together, indicating a minimal amount.

"Tiny bit more, babe," Another nurse appears from around the curtain and he laughs before speaking to her, "it's all she's worried about all morning."

"Honestly that's everyone's least favorite part. The rest of the day should be aces if you can handle that!"

Harry settles himself into a chair while the nurse goes through a myriad of questions. Any other surgeries? Allergies to medications you know of? Do you smoke? Drink?

Harry snorts when you say no to drinking, but quickly clasps his hand over his mouth when the nurse's head snaps to look between you and him.

"The occasional drink is fine, no worries. Nothing this morning though, right?"

"No, ma'am."

Your eyes meet his, a mischievous grin still plastered across his face. He mumbles a quick "sorry" while you try to pull your concentration back towards the nurse and the remainder of her questions.

"Alright, time for the good stuff," she passes you a small clear cup with two white pills, "First one is just something to keep you calm and relaxed, second one is to prevent any pain after the procedure. They'll give you something to make you sleepy when you get to the OR, but this might make you a bit loopy for now."

"This should be fun." Harry claps his hand in front of him, rubbing them together quickly. He leans forward in his chair, as if ready for a show.

"Yeah? Is she a happy drunk?"

Harry had only ever experienced you high on any sort of prescription medication once, almost a year ago when you went on a girl's trip with your best friend and twisted your ankle in an attempt to make it back to her car after dinner out one night. You calling him from an unknown ER in the middle of the night had terrified him enough to start packing a bag to fly to you before your best friend could grab your phone and assure him you were fine and she would put you on a plane home to him in two days as planned. He had teased you endlessly when he picked you up from the airport and for the next few days afterwards as you limped around on a bruised, ACE bandage wrapped foot.

But after too many wine drunk nights to count, he had enough stories to humiliate you with and the thought of any one of them being told now had you sinking further into the hospital bed.

"You could say that. Last time she.." His voice trails off at the sight of your eyes, wide as saucers, begging him to stop.

The nurse grins, her face kind and sympathetic to your silent cry for help.

"We're a little behind schedule this morning so it may be about 20 minutes before they come transport you, okay?" You nod, the effects of the sedative already working its way through your system, "Keep an eye on her? Make sure she behaves?"

"Yeah, I got her. We'll be fine, thank you so much." He's closer now, standing next to you again, a hand sliding up your arm to settle on your shoulder. You manage a thumbs up and a sleepy "thank you" as an affirmation that you appreciate all she's done for you.

"You're more than welcome. You'll have a different set of nurses in recovery but if you need anything until they come get you, just let me know, alright?"

"We will, thanks." His thumb ghosts across the front of your collarbone, the lightest of touches to soothe you, his eyes still focused on the nurse.

"Good luck! You're gonna do just fine, I promise."

The second she's around the curtain, Harry nudges you lightly, "Scoot."

"Huh? What do you mean..Harry, there's not enough room for you in this bed." Your head feels too light to deal with his nonsense now.

"Yeah there is if you scoot. C'mon. Hurry before we get caught. M’supposed to be keeping an eye on you, remember? Gotta make sure you don't fall outta the bed."

He's already wedged himself next to you, trying to make his tall frame fit into the limited space.

You move over as much as you can, the rail of the bed poking into your hip.

He tucks one arm behind your head, the other one thrown behind his own as a cushion.

"You feel more relaxed now, lovie?"

You scrunch down in the bed, just enough that you can tuck your head under his other arm, "A little. I don't feel sleepy enough though," Your eyes dart up, seeking the comfort of his face, "I'm scared, H."

"I know you are, baby," the hand behind your head shifts to cup around your arm, pulling you closer, "Just pretend you're home with me and we're taking a nice little nap together, yeah?"

"But you won't be there with me, not really."

"I'll be there when you wake up though. First thing you'll see when you open your eyes, promise." He runs a finger along the curve of your nose, "Close your eyes. Try to sleep, hmm?"

You shake your head, turning towards him to hide your face in his side, inhaling his scent.

"Want me to turn the light off? Would that help?"

"No," You toss the arm that isn't trapped between you two over him, holding tightly to his shirt, "Stay."

"Alright, then. We'll just wait," He tilts his head to rest closer to yours, "Have you thought about what you want to eat after?"

"Not really. M'too nervous to think about food."

"We'll think of something good. Whatever you want."

"You're gonna get us in trouble, better scoot back to your corner like a good boy." Your words come out unintentionally slurred and you weakly push yourself up and away from him as he slides off. He doesn't sit though, just stands near you, an anxious look flashing across his features.

"Hey, c'mere. Gonna be fine, routine surgery, remember?" You stretch your arms out to him, a plea to be near his warmth again.

He sits on the edge of the bed, facing you. You tug lightly at the sleeve of his cardigan, a feeble attempt to pull him closer. He indulges you, his brow still creased with distress.

"Know ya gonna be fine, just hate you have to go through it at all. Wish I could take it from you without all this." He gestures to the IV he knows you despise so much.

"You have helped take it from me. All the sleepless nights you spent up with me, holding my hair back when I got sick. All the days after when I was too drained to get out of bed. You were there for as much of it as you could be. And you pushed me to go see the surgeon in the first place. You've helped me more than you give yourself credit for."

His fingers intertwine in yours, the pad of his thumb soothing over the front of your hand.

"Make sure you keep my phone with you, my mom will probably call you every 30 minutes for updates." A yawn stretches across your face, "She has your number too, bullied me into giving it to her last week when I called to tell her about the surgery."

He nods, patting his pocket to make sure both phones are still nestled there together.

Another yawn threatens to escape and you muffle it this time, more content to fight sleep to stare at Harry; his hair a perfect mess of curls under the harsh brightness of the hospital lighting. His face is more relaxed now, his eyes still focused on your fingers tangled together. He catches you, your eyes glazed over, too heavy and threatening to close.

"Darling, please close your eyes. I can see how tired you are," His fingertips sweep delicately over your nose again, as if he was lulling a baby to sleep, "You don't have to stay awake for me."

"Closing my eyes for just a second, alright? Not because you told me to though. I want to. Wake me up in 2 hours, don't wanna sleep too long."

Your eyes are already drifting closed, the last thing you hear is a chuckle; effortless, light as air, "I will, promise."

Soft kisses pressed across your face, "Sweet dreams, love."

His voice is the first you hear as you wake up in the dimly lit recovery room. Well, really it was more like a big cubicle, another space with a curtain drawn in front of it. Even with the floaty, dreamy feeling flowing through your system, you can still detect the worry in his voice.

"Harry?" It takes your mind a minute to catch up and process where you are and what had happened.

Oh yeah. Surgery day. No more annoying gallbladder. No more sleepless nights. Freedom to eat what you want and not be haunted by nausea and sickness from what you ate.

"How are you feeling? Any pain?" Suddenly a nurse in bright blue scrubs is there, way too animated and loud at the moment, "Pain scale 1-10?"

"I don't have any pain. Zero." You're aware of how high you sound and a giggle escapes through the haze. That earns you a smile from Harry, one that lights up his whole face and makes his dimples shine through.

"Awesome! Well then as soon as you're good and awake we're gonna get this IV out and go over some paperwork for both of you to sign. I want you to drink something for me too, so what would you like?"

You request a ginger ale and as soon as the nurse leaves to retrieve it for you, Harry scoots the chair he's sitting in as close to the bed as possible.

"How long was I out?"

"Couple of hours," He absentmindedly fixes your hair, looping various curls back around to their respective places, "Took a little longer than expected, you had a small infection so they had to make sure it hadn't spread."

"How much longer?"

"Long enough you had us all slightly worried." His hand trails down your cheek to cup your chin gently, urging you to look at him, "You sure you're not in pain? Now's not the time to do that stubbornly brave thing you do where you pretend nothing's wrong."

"I feel fine, really. Just a little tired, ready to go home."

He studies your face, trying to find any trace of dishonesty. When he's satisfied you're being truthful, he stands and extracts your phone from his pocket.

"Already talked to ya mum, but your co-workers were all texting you, asking how you were. Figured you'd want to handle that yourself, didn't know how much detail you would want to give them."

"Did you give my mother all the details? Infection and everything?"

"Um, no. I knew better than to do that. Promised her you would call when I got you settled at home."

"You promised or she demanded?"

"Okay..she politely asked that you call her when we get home."

"That sounds more like her." You roll your eyes, pushing yourself so you're sitting more upright in the bed.

"She just worries about you." He adjusts the pillow behind you, fluffing and tucking it where you direct it, against your lower back.

"I know. I'll FaceTime her when we get home to prove I'm alive."

"It's been a while since we've seen them, maybe we should plan a visit?" He plops himself back in the chair, leaning back as far as he can go; hands behind his head, eyes closed. You'd both gotten very little sleep the night before, you were too anxious and he was too gracious to let you suffer alone.

"Oh please, I'm lucky I even got time off to do this. My boss would never allow another break so soon."

"Maybe for the holidays?"

"Maybe..but only if you can go with me, you know they love you more than me by now anyway."

"They do not," He peeks one eye open at you, "They love us both equally."

You shoot a quick text to your co-workers, using the group chat between the few of you to make it easier.

I'm out! Feeling okay for now but that might change later lol

The nurse is back, apologizing for taking so long, "We've been so behind all day, it's crazy busy. I had to wait for your doctor to sign off on your release." She hands you a can of ginger ale, white bendy straw already poised and ready for you.

"Just need you to sign here," She holds a clipboard and a pen out to you and you balance the can dangerously in one hand while you scribble something that resembles your signature. Close enough. She gestures for you to pass the clipboard to Harry, "His signature goes under yours, just says he's responsible for you for the next few hours until everything wears off."

"This means I'm the boss, right?" He leans over to grab the board, a wink thrown in your direction. He's enjoying himself way too much at the thought of being in control of you for the next few hours. Smug son of a bitch.

She takes the clipboard back and pulls off a yellow sheet of paper, "This is just your copy of what you signed, and also has post op instructions for your bandages. Your prescription's been sent to the pharmacy, and there's a brief summary of pain management information on the bottom there just in case you need it."

"Thank you." You transfer it right to Harry's waiting hand, knowing he'll be the one surveying every word, making sure you follow everything to the letter.

"I know you mentioned earlier having a little bit of a drive home, so probably once you get her some food and pick up her prescriptions, it'll be time for another round of meds. Okay?" She turns to you again, "I know it sounds silly, but one of the most important things after this particular surgery is lots of walking. Otherwise you'll be miserable. Rest for a while when you get home, then get up every 10 minutes or so until bedtime. Don't let her skip that part, alright? Very important."

"I heard you weren't a big fan of this thing," She nods towards the IV in your right forearm, "So this'll probably be the best part of this whole process for you. We'll get this out and then you can get changed and we'll get someone to wheel you down and out of here, alright? Don't look and you won't even know when it's gone."

"Hey, think about what you want to eat, huh? Your first freedom meal. Yay!" He slips his hand into your left, raising your connected hands victoriously. You didn't think it was possible for you to love him anymore until this moment. The way he could so easily erase your fear was one of his many gifts you adored him for, "What are we having, babe?"

You don't even hesitate before answering, "Pizza, from Milano's. It's my favorite, other than that one place in Italy you took me to. Please? Oh and one of their salads, with the little bread knots on the side!"

He glances at the nurse, awaiting a reprimand for your meal choice.

"As your nurse, I feel I should remind you that while you can have anything you feel like eating, we usually recommend something small and light at first. Broth or soup with some toast, maybe. The salad may be fine, but the pizza might be a little heavy. Taking it slow would be best. But everyone is different."

"So..just cheese then? Maybe some mushrooms?"

You let your head fall back against the pillow, a foggy haze settling over you, "Plain cheese, no mushrooms."

"Alright, sounds good. Why don't I go call it in and pull the car around? Meet you out front?" He leans closer, a quick peck to your cheek before pulling his hand loose from yours and turning to leave.

"Hey, wait," You attempt to tug at his wrist, but fail, your brain still set to slow-motion. He takes pity on you and returns to your side, "Let's eat there. It's in the mall so we can window shop after we eat."

"You sure? You still seem a bit tipsy, honey."

You don't feel tipsy. Just tired, and hungry. Very hungry. As if on cue, your stomach makes a remarkably loud noise; an objection at not being fed for the past 12 hours.

"Alright, alright, calm down. " You let out an embarrassed groan when you realize he's talking to your stomach, "We'll eat there."

He kisses you again, closer to your mouth, "Missed."

"I did, huh?" He chuckles, close enough to your face now your noses are almost touching, "Let's try again."

This time his lips meet yours and you know he missed on purpose the first time by how amused he looks when he pulls away.

"One more for luck?" You can't resist letting the back of your hand wander over his face, before resting the palm of your hand against his cheek.

"I think I can handle that," He smiles before landing another quick peck to your lips, "Be good for the nurse while I'm gone. I'll have the getaway car ready in 10, yeah?"

You're certain Harry would have fed you if you would have let him, right here in the mall food court in front of everyone. But you refuse, insisting even, on carrying your own tray to the table. He chuckles when you pull your phone out of your sweater pocket to take a picture of your food, quickly uploading it to Facebook.

He watches you closely as you take the first bite, even pulling his own phone out to sneak a photo of you when you temporarily close your eyes to appreciate the indulgence of being able to eat one of your favorite foods again; free from that anxious feeling of whether or not it would settle right with your body later. You open your eyes the very moment after he captured the image.

"Harry!"

"You just looked so happy! I couldn't help it. You know I'll never post it anyway. Snagged a few of you earlier in your little blue cap they made you wear too." He flips back through to show you. You try to snatch the phone away, but he's too quick to pull his hand back and stash his phone in his pocket.

"When??"

"After you fell asleep, right before they came to take you back."

He takes a bite from his own generous slice of pizza in front of him before gesturing to your tray, "How is it?"

"Amazing. Even better than before, if possible."

His smile is bright, loving the satisfaction of seeing you actually enjoy food again.

Your plan to walk around the mall was cut short, you could barely make it through one store without yawning. You cling to Harry most of the way back to the car, his arm securely wrapped around you to keep you steady.

You doze off on the drive home, and when your eyes flutter open you find him opening the passenger door, offering a hand to help lift you out of the car and up the stairs into the house. Your foot stumbles on the first step, failing to make contact and you almost fall back.

"Easy," He giggles, an arm thrown behind your back to catch you before encouraging softly, "Try again."

When he's confident you're stable enough on your feet, he lets go to unlock the door.

You're greeted by a bouquet of flowers, a colorful arrangement of roses and lilies from Harry's band mates. You immediately recognize Sarah's handwriting on the card and make a mental note to shoot everyone a thank you text later. You don't know if it's the medication still in your system, the exhaustion of the day, or the overwhelming amount of love that makes you teary eyed.

Harry stands behind you as you admire the flowers and the card, arms curving around to hug you, careful of the large bandage on your upper abdomen and the two smaller steri-strips on your right side.

"How did they know pink roses were my favorite?"

"They love you, peach." He rests his chin on your shoulder, "Besides, you've only mentioned growing up with a pink rose bush in your Nanna's garden about a hundred times."

"I always loved it. Still do."

Your mind travels back to your earliest memories spent there; summers when you practically lived at the small house on the hill. Helping pick tomatoes and peppers from the garden, too warm afternoons spent with a book in your lap under the shade of a peach tree, your grandfather's corny jokes and loving smile. Your Nanna's too generous portions of food contributing to the few extra curves you still carried with you to this day.

You don't even notice the tears at first. They slip down your cheeks and land on his arm. Once you realize, you try to quickly wipe them away, but Harry sees.

"Hey..c'mon, I think your high's wearing off a bit, bub. Pajamas, meds, nap. Sound good?" He turns you to face him, using the sleeve of his shirt to brush away any tears that still linger at the corner of your eyes.

"What time is it?"

"Almost 3..why?"

"No nap. I'll never sleep tonight, and you know how grumpy I get when my sleep schedule is thrown off." Even with your declaration of not wanting a nap, you can't help but rub your eyes, a weak attempt to keep yourself awake. Any resolve Harry had to try to convince you to nap melts away. A smirk on his face, he knows you'll eventually crash later, most likely on his chest or in his arms. He's content to let you be stubborn for now.

"Okay, then. New plan. Pajamas, meds, movie. Better?"

"Better. You get everything ready and pick the movie while I change?"

"You don't wanna pick the movie?"

You wave him off, already shuffling towards the bedroom, "You're the boss today, remember?"

You take your time gathering what you need to get cozy for the rest of the day, selecting an oversized, well-worn tie dye t-shirt and leggings from your dresser. You even take a moment to dip into Harry's extensive sweatshirt collection, grabbing your favorite one. It's amazingly soft and still smells of him, a faint scent of his cologne and well..just Harry. You couldn't imagine anything more comforting.

In your pursuit to feel more lucid, you venture into the bathroom, taking a moment to wash your face. The cool water instantly refreshes you and pushes you closer to feeling like yourself again. Wanting your hair out of your face, you pluck a scrunchy from your shared collection of hair accessories. You quickly recognize that your arms still have that too heavy feeling of unconsciousness and after a few attempts to gather your curls into some sort of up-do, you give up and loop the accessory around your wrist to try again later.

Harry senses your frustration when you find him in the kitchen, two small green pill bottles sitting on the counter in front of him. He's already filled your favorite cup with ice water, and you gratefully take it and drink from it.

"What's wrong?" His brow creases with concern and you feel guilty for making him worry over something so silly.

"Nothing..just wanted my hair up out of my face but my arms wouldn't cooperate." You try to laugh it off to put him more at ease, "It's not a big deal."

You know it's only the weariness of the day still making you feel so emotional, clear-headed you would not be upset over something so small.

"Here. Let me try." He slides the scrunchy from your wrist and pulls you closer to him, moving behind you to gently work long fingers through your hair, gathering it all in a loose ponytail on top of your head before securing it around a few times with the scrunchy.

You let your shoulders drop with a deep sigh when he's done, it was such a simple thing, but it made you feel so much lighter. He spins you around to face him, a charming gleam of pride at his handiwork adorning his face, "Too tight?"

"No. Much better. Thank you, Harry. You take such good care of me always, but today..I don't know what I would've done without you. I made such a big fuss and probably made you miserable with all of my worrying." You're suddenly very aware that you are rambling, but when you catch a glimpse of his face, his smile is wide. So bright that the skin around his eyes is crinkling.

He leans towards you, lips stopping whatever words may have come next, arms wrapping around you to pull you closer in a soft, warm embrace. When he pulls away, his eyes bore right into yours, and your heart swells with more love than you could ever imagine having for one person. But he wasn't just any person. He was your person, your whole word staring back at you.

"I'm SO proud of you. You've been so strong today, always knew you had that strength in you, but seeing you take that leap of faith..doing something you knew you should despite your fear, that's all you, love. I can't take any credit for that. You've made me anything but miserable, trust me."

His face is still close enough to yours that you nudge forward, pressing your forehead to his, a silent appreciation of his affection.

"Any pain yet?" He pulls back, a thumb across your cheek, eyes still locked on yours.

"My head kind of hurts? And I still just feel kind of..drunk."

"You have always been a bit of a lightweight, babe. And a thief too, I see. S'that my sweatshirt?"

"Have not!" You swat playfully at his arm, "Maybe. Is that my hair clip in your hair?"

"Possibly." His eyes dart up to the swoop of curls on top of his head, a black plastic clip twisting it back and away from his face.

"Guess we're even then."

"S'pose we are." He tries to keep his eyes narrowed in a mock attempt of annoyance, but it quickly fades into laughter.

You decide against FaceTiming your family, hoping that hearing your voice will be enough. It seems to satisfy them at least for the rest of the day. You assure them that Harry is taking very good care of you and that everything went as smooth as could be expected.

He raises one eyebrow at you as you hang up, "As smooth as expected, huh? You aren't going to tell them the truth?"

"What's to tell? I had an infection and now it's gone. I'm fine, there's no sense in worrying them. We can give them the full story later."

He shrugs, fingers working to open one of the green pill bottles before passing one of the white pills to you, "For your headache, lovie. There's something here for nausea too if you need it. M'worried the pizza might've been too much. Maybe you should take one of these..just in case?"

"Harry, I promise I will tell you if I feel anything other than fine." Your hand runs from his shoulder down his bicep, squeezing gently, "Besides, I cannot take a whole one of those. If you think I'm a lightweight now..I'll sleep for the whole week if I take that."

He slips the bottle in his pocket, pulling you in to press a kiss to the top of your head, "We'll keep it close just in case, okay?"

"Sounds good," Your hand trails back up to his neck to work fingers through his hair, "Hey, thought we were watching a movie? What'd you pick?"

"Thought we could decide together. C'mon, let's get you comfy in bed."

"Ever the gentleman, always trying to get me in your bed."

"Hey! I am a perfect gentleman, thank you very much," He chuckles, a hand coming to rest on the small of your back, "Just thought you'd be more comfortable, you can prop up and stretch your feet out."

You let him tug you along for the second time today, thankful it's the luxury of your shared bed you get to settle into this time. He tucks you in softly, propping pillows behind your back and head.

"Comfy? Need anything else?"

"No, just need you to quit babying me so much and relax with me for a bit."

"Since when am I not allowed to baby you?"

You roll your eyes, "Never said you weren't allowed. Just want you to stop worrying so much, that's all."

"Good. Cause y'are my baby," No matter how many times you'd heard him say it before, it never failed to make you blush, "Do anything for you, y'know that, right?"

"I know," You look down at your hands, trying to slow your racing heart, "You never let me forget."

"Hey," He pokes your cheek, pulling your gaze back up to him, "I love you."

"I love you more, H."

He kisses your forehead, "Impossible. I love you most."

The reference to one of your favorite movies has you smiling at him, that dreamy feeling falling over you again, "Can we watch Tangled?"

"Sure, princess."

He sinks next to you, head propped up on your shoulder, navigating easily through Disney+ to find your requested movie.

Your eyes drift closed right about the time the lanterns are being released in the sky, a moment that normally leaves your face wet with tears, the soft vibrations of Harry humming along the perfect lullaby to push you further into your dream.

He wakes you later in the evening.

"Dinner's on the table if you want to join me."

"Time's it?" Your voice is still heavy with sleep.

"7. You were sleeping so deeply I didn't want to wake you, thought your body could use the extra sleep today."

"Yeah. It was nice, thank you." You stretch your arms forward, reaching for his hands to help pull you up.

"How do you feel?"

"A little sore. More sober, for sure."

Dinner is simple; a bowl of plain broth, salad, and toast. Exactly what the nurse suggested earlier. There's even a warm mug of tea waiting for you.

"With honey for my honey," He's so proud of his cheesy expression of love you cannot help but smile.

You look at him curiously when he sits next to you, the same boring meal set out for himself.

"Harry..you can eat what you want, babe. Seriously you've done enough today, more than enough to be supportive. It wouldn't hurt my feelings if you made yourself something different."

"Nah. S'fine. We're in this together, yeah?"

You raise your eyebrows at him playfully, "Did you have an organ snatched from your body today?"

"No, I didn't." He laughs, "I just meant food wise, love. It's vegetable broth, by the way, hope that's alright."

"It's perfect."

You nudge him lightly, an elbow to his side, shifting closer to ask for a kiss. He meets you the rest of the way, lips planted firmly on yours. When you don't pull away, he quickly adds another.

After dinner is done and you have another round of meds, the two of you end up in an awkward ball of cuddles on the couch. Harry flips through the channels on the tv before finding a show you both agree on.

But you're too restless, unable to find a position comfortable enough for you. You shift a few times, finally giving up and letting out a frustrated groan before tossing the blanket off the both of you and springing up and off the couch.

Harry doesn't panic, just grabs your hand before you can get too far away or lose your balance, keeping his voice low when he asks, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing hurts. I just can't get comfortable, and I don't feel right."

"What doesn't feel right, angel? Explain."

"I don't feel like myself. I don't know how to explain it. Just feel off."

He sees you're on the verge of tears and ascends from his spot on the couch, arms quickly enveloping you before placing a finger under your chin to pull your face up to look at him.

"It's probably gonna take a day or so to adjust, baby. Yes it was a minor surgery but it was a major change to your body." He's bending now to look right into your eyes, searching them, "How can we fix it tonight, hmm? What do you need?"

Tears are free flowing, falling on the front of your t-shirt and down to the floor.

"Take your time. Breathe." A large hand smoothing warm circles firmly across your back; a balm for your restless spirit.

You pause, deep breath in before slowly letting it out, "I think I just need to move around for a bit."

"Let's go for a walk, eh? A quick one and then back to bed. Your mind needs more rest. How's that sound?" He taps your forehead softly.

"Okay, yeah." You nod your head, an approval of his plan.

"Don't worry about it, okay? Everything's gonna be fine. You're gonna be fine."

You nod again, scared your voice will break if you try to speak. He knew that those words held a lot of weight for you, he'd repeated them often throughout this whole process and to hear them now was a reminder of how safe you were. That with him, you would always be safe and loved.

Being dark outside meant you gracelessly padding through the house, up and down the hallway a few times and back to the living room. Harry stays close, encouraging you along with little claps and kisses to motivate you. When your stomach starts to feel uneasy, he urges you once again to take something for nausea. You agree to take a half a pill, knowing it'll help you sleep.

Despite the nap you had earlier and only being awake for a couple of hours, it doesn't take much convincing for you to settle back into bed.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

He's already reclined next to you, book in hand, the soft light from the lamp illuminating one side of his face. You're smushed against him, drifting between that sweet space of almost asleep and wanting to stay awake to enjoy any spare moment you get with him. His hand working through your hair helps push you towards the former of the two.

"I'm sorry to be such a burden today," Your words are slurring together but you continue on, just needing to get your thoughts out before he can stop you, "I don't deserve you and I shouldn't have overreacted so much about something so simple."

"Hey, none of that now," He lays the book on the nightstand, careful to save his place for later before pulling you closer to him, "You were not, nor have you ever been a burden to me. Just because you needed a little extra help today does not mean you aren't deserving of me or my love. You will never have to earn that. It's yours, always has been, will be as long as you decide to keep me around."

"Thank you. For all of it. I'll always want you."

"Always? Y'might change your mind someday, angel."

"I won't. Promise."

"Yeah? Me either."

A kiss laid delicately to the top of your head has your eyes dangerously close to falling shut again before another thought navigates its way through your mind and out of your mouth before you can stop it.

"H..what am I gonna do with a full week off from work?"

"Let me take care of you?"

And that's exactly what he does.

Mornings spent sleeping in, late breakfasts made together and afternoon walks. Evenings consisting of the two of you preparing dinner together or ordering takeout from some of the forbidden places you couldn't eat from before. Mugs of herbal tea before early bedtimes, you sweetly falling asleep to the sound of his voice reading to you most nights.

But his favorite part was that the scent of lavender was no longer cursed for you. Some nights before your surgery, when you simply could not fall asleep the pain was so unbearable, you would fill the tub with hot water and lavender scented bubbles to try to calm yourself enough to be able to drift off afterwards. It never worked, the heat always doing more harm than good. Harry would always be waiting for you, open arms and a soft towel to wrap you in.

So the smell became one you hated, memories of sleepless nights and nausea. But now you were free to use it again for what you always loved it for before it was cursed. In your body wash, lotion, even your laundry detergent; spreading the scent all over your shared space in as many ways as you could.

He even mentions it one night after dinner, when the two of you are pressed impossibly close together on the couch. His nose buried into your neck, inhaling deeply, pulling away to announce, "You smell like you again, love. Missed it so much." He burrows back in, placing kisses from your neck to your shoulder, ignoring your giggles and protests of how much it tickles.

A week later, the alarm wakes you sooner than you've become accustomed to, reminding you of your return to work. Harry's arm thrown over your waist pulls you closer as you try to leave the bed, a sleepy "Don't go." mumbled in your ear.

You do your best to peel yourself away from him, admitting silently to yourself how much harder it is for you to leave the warmth of your bed as it is for him to let you go.

2 years later, you have a scar you swear didn't heal right, and a man who loves you even more because of it.

#harry styles imagine #harry x reader #my writing #so happy this is finally done and being posted!#soooooo many times I almost just deleted it bc I didn't know how to feel about it #but anyway hope y'all enjoy!

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