hang in there, baby!

It was one of his favorite things to share with (Y/N), as well. While she didn't have quite the same affinity for sweets that he did, she never failed to indulge him and always tried all of his desserts and little treats. There was nothing like tasting honey in her kiss; the nectar would linger over her lips and sweeten every pass of her tongue over his. He wasn't sure if she ever picked up on it, but whenever he made her something with honey added, he had to sneak kisses in while she ate or indulge some as soon as she finished. Even when he added it to their cups of tea, just a hint of the thick substance remaining in the warm liquid was enough to have him all but abandoning the drink in favor of getting every note from her lips and luxuriating in the honey of her kiss. 

But, just because he loved it, didn't mean he was very careful with it. 

This morning, (Y/N) had woken with him to the sun's rays, their late night together having only ended a handful of hours before. That meant she woke up early and a bit grumpy with an empty stomach, which was something Harry just wouldn't allow to persist. One of his favorite breakfasts to make for her, especially under warm weather, was a crusty slice of a toasted baguette topped with his homemade raspberry preserves, a spread of brie cheese, and a dripping of golden honey all over. The honey and raspberries were his favorite part; sinking into the textured holes of the bread allowed for the brie to hit his tongue first, buttery and thick before the tart raspberries and the bright honey cut through it like sunshine pouring through open windows. It helped that (Y/N) loved it just as much from the way she requested it when she knew he had everything on hand to prepare the meal. 

Harry couldn't lie and say he wasn't distracted as he brought together (Y/N)'s breakfast this morning. He could feel her eyes on his back as he worked, only a pair of boxers snug against his hips with the rest of his sun-bathed skin on display for his lover. But, knowing that if he looked over his shoulder, he'd find the rest of his outfit—really just an oversized Woodstock t-shirt he'd bought from the back of someone's van at the festival—adorning his Flame and nothing else, was the real distraction. It had been storming all night, leaving something special in the air that stung Harry's system and had him good and ready for hours on end last night. He was lucky just the memory of it all wasn't getting him hard, so knowing (Y/N) was sitting pretty behind him with her legs folded underneath her was the biggest test to keep his focus. 

Though, when his jar of honey was knocked over, spilling some of the nectar over the rim, Harry realized he'd failed the test. 

"H, did you spill it again?" (Y/N) giggled from behind him, voice still dredged with sleep though her laughter felt brighter than the sun.

"No," he lied, obvious in the way he elongated the word and stepped in front of her view of the mess. 

"Yes, you did," she pressed, another peal of her laughter filling his cottage. That made this whole mess worth it; sticky flannel and hot water burning his fingertips and all. 

"Oh, hush," he scolded her though the words lost their grit through his smile, "'M making y'breakfast even after y'woke up all grumpy on me, and this is how y'thank me?" 

Harry shook his head at her, feigning disappointment as he grabbed their completed plates. He willed the rest of the cleanup to take care of itself with a jerk of his chin as he opted to spend his breakfast with his sunshine. 

"I'm sorry, Harry," she told him, beaming up at him before he settled on the bed with her, folding his legs underneath himself before offering her breakfast, "I just think it's funny, that's all. Without fail, you always know how to make a mess." 

Tipping his head to the side as he took his first bite of this morning's meal, Harry shrugged. "Maybe, but I didn't hear y'complaining about the mess I made last night." 

Looking up at her through the splay of his lashes, Harry watched as her aura flared up with bright splashes of crimson bleeding into the contented yellow and baby pink that was her resting halo. A short smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, lopsided with a single dimple in his cheek. He had a feeling he knew exactly what was on her mind. 

"Eat your breakfast," she shooed him off with the faux-scold. It only took Harry one lingering look to see just how flimsy of a facade the nonchalance was. 

With that lopsided smile still pinned to his cheeks, he granted her a reprieve as he dropped his gaze (not before making sure her aura was just as sweet and heated as he was hoping). They were quiet then, leaving Harry to revel in her company, the reach of her energy warmer than the sunlight bleeding through the windows and sweeter than the food on his tongue. Every other moment, his eyes drifted to her, watching as she took bites of the food he made for her, washing away his worry over her hunger. 

While he was watching her innocently, of course, maybe he was paying a little too much attention to her mouth. It wasn't inherently sexy, what she was eating—crusty bread was built for comfort, not hard-ons—, but that didn't stop him from taking in every swipe of her tongue over her lips as she cleaned up the raspberries that worked the stain the center of her mouth or the honey that clung to the bread before bowing and breaking to pool on her skin. Maybe, he wasn't quite over the storm that had boiled in his system the night before. 

Nonetheless, he kept to himself. (Y/N), at least, needed to eat some before he could go back to laying with his face between her legs.

Other than a few looks over their food—(Y/N) looking away with a shy smile on her face every time she caught his eyes, and Harry trying to bite back the smug curl that took his own mouth—he left her be. Just when Harry felt his mind begin to wander, (Dande would probably be home from wherever she scampered off for the night soon, so he would need to get her some lunch made) (Y/N) huffed out a pout. When he refocused his gaze on her, he found the expected furrow of her brow and the puff of her bottom lip pushed from the set of her mouth. 

With a question of what was wrong on the tip of his tongue, Harry stopped when he saw the glimmer of honey dripping down the corner of her mouth. She'd hit one of the potholes in the crust of the bread, surprising her with a long drop of money that extended from the corner of her mouth and down the curve of her chin, leaving a sticky mess over her skin. 

"Don't laugh," (Y/N) scolded as soon as she realized he was watching her though the corner of her own mouth threatened to tick upwards. 

"'M not, 'm not," Harry protested, telling the truth as he watched the refraction of the golden nectar inch over her dewy skin. There wasn't any reason to laugh as far as he was concerned, not when he was too busy being envious of the slow crawl of the honey over her face. 

Looking at her sticky fingers, (Y/N) scrunched her nose in distaste. Flitting her gaze to Harry, she gave him pleading eyes. "Can you help me? My hands are sticky."

Harry raised his honey-sticky and raspberry dotted fingers with his own version of an apology on his features. "Sorry, lovie," he murmured. 

A huffed sigh fell from her lips. "It's okay, H." 

It was then she made a move to get off the bed, leaving towards the kitchen, that Harry had an idea. A faint ping of panic zipped through him that urged him to get her to stay right where she was on the bed with him. With a careful kick of his leg, he nudged his foot against the back of her calf. 

"Wait," he stopped her, "I think I can still help." 

"Oh, yeah," she said, settling back gown with an obvious smile on her face, "magic."

Though a lopsided smile curled his lips, Harry didn't bother to correct her as he made a show of flicking his dirty dishes away with a wave of his fingers. With the full of his attention on her, he watched as she eagerly pushed her own unfinished plate to sit on his bedside table, leaving room for her to scoot over the mattress and into Harry's space. 

She closed her eyes once her knee knocked against his, surely waiting for whatever spell she had decided he was going to use on her. Instead, Harry simply leaned forwards and pressed his lips to the pool of honey on her skin. His tongue peeked out between his puckered lips, grazing over her chin in an effort to clean away the honey that would refuse to slick over his own lips. 

At the sound of (Y/N)'s breath catching, Harry lost the pucker of his lips to a smug smile as he lingered. He couldn't blame her, really. If he had thought he liked honey before, it had to be his favorite food now that he'd tasted it from her skin. 

Dotting an innocent kiss to her now cleaned skin, he pulled away with his lips now carrying the mess she'd made. (Y/N) sat with her eyes closed for a bit longer, lashes fluttering as they rimmed her quivering eyelids. 

"What," she started, a little too breathy for the morning sunshine, "was that?" 

Blinking her gaze open, Harry was granted a look at her aura; the soft colors now edged with a bright red ribbon. But, he could have guessed as much when he looked at the blown set of her pupils. 

"I helped you," he answered simply, just short of a shrug with how nonchalant he was trying to be. He was well aware of the way (Y/N) was watching him as he brought his dirtied fingers to his mouth and licked the honey and raspberries from the pads, leaving them with only the essence of the nectar and stain from the fruit. Finally, peeking at her through his lashes, he asked her: "What?" 

Shaking her head, (Y/N) seemed to realize she was still watching him. Her aura flickered out once she cut eye contact with him, her gaze shifting down to her own honey-sodden hands. "Nothing," she told him. 

Harry couldn't help the way his eyes dropped down to her hands. The pads of her delicate fingers weren't pooling with the honey the way the curve of her chin had been marred with such, but he could see the way the traces gleamed in the sunlight. 

"I can clean that up, too," he told her, trying his best to not let his mouth slip into a smug curve again as he nodded his chin towards her hands. 

As much as he wanted to see (Y/N) squirm over her answer, pretend like he was only being a pest and wasn't getting under her skin the way he knew he was, he didn't have that kind of patience in him this morning. Instead, he grabbed for her wrist, fingers wrapping around the delicate curve of the bones. Ducking his head, he pressed his lips to the pads of her fingers, repeating the pattern of his tongue sneaking out and lapping up the honey from her skin. He moved across her  fingertips, cleaning her up with a kiss pressed to every finger before he moved to the next until he made it through both hands. 

The heat of (Y/N)'s gaze followed him as he didn't bother to pull away from her skin, to stop kissing over her hand even with the mess was cleaned. 

"Tastes so good this way, you know that?" he told her, the words smeared against her skin as he dared to kiss up to her wrist. 

Turning her hand in his hold, (Y/N) presented the soft underside of her arm to him, the downy skin getting all the love Harry could give. "W-What does?" 

"Honey," he affirmed, grateful for the stick that lingered over his lips, giving him a glimpse of the taste with every press of his lips against her skin, "It tastes better when it's from you." 

"Oh," was all she gave in response, the sound breathless. 

"That alright, sunshine? If I keep tasting it from you?" Harry asked, already willing the pot of honey from his kitchen counter to make its way over to his bed. 

"I-Its sticky," (Y/N) peeped, the would-be protest having little grit. 

"I'll keep y'clean, don't worry," he murmured against her skin, grabbing for the honeypot once it was within range with the help of his magic. 

Bypassing the honey dipper leant against the lip of the jar, Harry ran his finger through the substance, letting it pool on the pad of his index before he pulled it from the jar. A long string of the nectar fell from his fingertip, collecting on the surface of the honey still in the pot until he ran a thick line with his finger over the bare skin of her arm. Harry watched with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as a layer of goosebumps erupted on her skin, a glance up through his lashes showing him she was concentrating on the touch of his sticky finger. 

Harry pressed a line of kisses through the golden honey first, leaving indents of his lips through the line and spreading it through the kiss print he left over her skin. Once he reached the crook of her elbow, the end of the line, he made a show of pulling away with a lick to his lips as he looked up at his lover. 

Her pupils were blown, the inky black swallowing the color of her iris with her swollen lips gripped between the blunt of her teeth. A smug smile worked its way onto his lips as he saw the way she seemed to be enraptured by the look of his glistening lip prints in the glow of the honey. He didn't need to see her aura to know he'd gotten to her, leaving his sunshine speechless. 

"See?" he started, already dipping his chin down to run the tip of his tongue through the river he'd painted on her skin, "Not so bad, right? Barely even realize 'm getting you all sticky, I bet." 

A nod of (Y/N)'s head was what he earned in response, her eyes wide and watching. The long drag of his tongue through the honey pile, collecting every streak and letting it pool on the flat of his tongue, had (Y/N)'s breathing going stagnant. 

With a tongueful of honey in his mouth, Harry pressed his lips up her bicep, the sweetness flooding through the puckering of his lips as he got a second taste of it with her skin. The line of kisses he left picked up where he'd drawn the initial line with his finger, and went all the way up to the cuffed sleeve of her borrowed t-shirt, the fabric frayed and tickling his nose once he was close enough. 

It didn't feel at all as dramatic as he was sure it looked when Harry swallowed the mouthful of honey he had, eyes fluttering closed as he swore the extra sweetness was due to the skin he kissed it off. A wide smile spread across his lips as he felt his muscles deflate and relax. All the while, the heat of (Y/N)'s gaze followed him, surely stopping on the sheen of honey that glittered over his lips. 

Blinking his eyes open, he was granted with the exact view he'd been hoping for: (Y/N) with eyes wide, lips swollen and gaped open as puffs of breath filtered from between, and a glittering warmth he saw traveling through her aura. 

"Wanna try?" he asked her, canting his head to the side with his curls flopping over his forehead. 

"Hm?" (Y/N) hummed, her gaze coming back to match his own, the color dark but moon wide. 

"Wanna try a taste? I know y'don't love honey as much as I do, but I think this could change your mind," he reasoned, already dipping his finger into the jar once more. A fresh coat of the nectar glistened over his fingertip, distorting the pearlescent pink color that adorned his nails. 

As soon as (Y/N) gave him a quiet nod, he brought his fingertip to her lips. He watched as she parted her mouth for him, allowing a peek of her pink tongue to slip though and lave over his digit. A harsh breath came out through Harry's nose as he watched, bottom lip trapped between his teeth at the wet heat of her tongue while his stomach tightened at the sight. 

"Good, right?" he pressed, though he didn't bother to lift his finger from her mouth in wait of her answer. 

Speaking against his digit, the rest of the honey highlighting the full of her lips and collecting in the ridges of the skin, she told him, "Yeah, really good." 

"Want more?" he asked her, watching as she chased after his finger when he pulled it from her lips, a smug smile on his own. A quiet nod from her had his stomach raveling tighter. 

Pressing the pad of his finger against her lips again, he watched as he parted her mouth for a repeat of what he'd already shared with her, only for him to paint the honey across her lips. The tip of his finger traced along the pillows of her mouth, going to the very corners without spilling over before he touched at the points of her Cupid's bow. Once he was done, Harry could see the glimmer of the nectar across her mouth, just like the lip glosses she loved to apply. 

Her mouth stuttered as she tried to part her lips, a furrow pinching at her brow with a question forming on her lips before Harry silenced her as he ducked his head and pressed his lips to hers. 

The kiss was sticky and wet, the honey dripping down their chins before Harry had a chance to sweep it up with his tongue. Every slotting of her bottom lip between his two gave him a taste of the nectar, warmed by her skin and the heat of her breathing. It was (Y/N) that snuck her tongue out first, skimming along the full of his bottom lip and shuddering when she ran into the tip of his own tongue. Creeping his clean hand up to cup the back of her neck, Harry tipped her head back, allowing the smears of honey to be shared between them even if he felt his chin grow sticky and the corners of his lips were pasted to hers with the help of the nectar. 

With a nudge of his nose against hers as he tilted his head to the side, deepening the kiss, (Y/N) parted her lips just enough for him to sneak his tongue inside and sweep across the planes of her mouth. The honey had sunk into the buds of her tongue, the sweetness being shared once again as he licked over it. 

Pulling back with a wet pop, Harry looked at his Flame with hooded eyes, lips swollen and wet with a tacky chin. "Wish y'could taste it like I am—off of you. Got me crazy jus' kissing you," he murmured, feeling starry-eyed despite the morning sun streaming through his cottage windows. 

(Y/N) shook her head, breathless with a lovingly pink and ravishingly red aura haloing her form. "I like it my way," she countered, a hazy dream carrying out her words, "I like it from you." 

No matter how many times Harry found himself with her wrapped around him, murmuring any kind of praise, things like that still managed to bring a heat to his skin that threaded through his system to work its way up to his cheeks. He liked knowing she adored him as much as he did her—even in moments like these. 

A smiley kiss was pressed to her lips, lacking the messy urgency from before. His hand on her neck drifted lower until he came into contact with the neckline of her borrowed shirt, his fingertips wiggling underneath the fabric as he pet at her bare skin. 

"We should take this off, shouldn't we?" he mumbled against her kiss, a lingering peck of his lips being placed at the corner of her mouth. 

With a contented smile still on her lips, (Y/N) nodded her head, "Yeah." 

He made quick work of pulling her top over her head, arms raised over her head before the fabric joined the pile on the floor with garments that had been discarded the night before. Dropping his hands to her waist, Harry moved her to lay on her back, lifting her hips and splaying her legs on either side of his own knelt position. 

With her head cushioned by the pillows and body sinking into the mattress below her, she looked like a goddess as tufts of his green dyed bedding cradled her form and sunlight dipped through the paneless windows and illuminated her skin. Stretches of bare skin were left on display as she laid under him, completely naked save for the tiny pair of underwear concealing her center. Harry sat between her spread legs, his own folded under him with his hands smoothing across the expanse of her tummy. 

"You're so beautiful, (Y/N)," he murmured, words dripping with affection just the same way he could picture honey oozing over her skin. "'M so lucky, sunshine." 

Peaks of baby pink colored her aura, complimented by happy yellows that softened the crimson shade that hovered the closest to her form. "H," she smiled a shy one, "you're gonna make me cry, stop." 

"Nooo," he laughed, elongating the word as he folded himself over her with a press of his lips to the underside of her jaw, "Don't cry, sunshine. I'll have to cry too, and then we'll never get anything done." 

"I don't want you to cry," (Y/N) played along with an exaggerated whine, wrapping her arms around his shoulders with her fingers tangling into the sweep of curls warming the back of his neck. 

"Then, neither of us are allowed to cry," Harry cemented, popping his head out from the crook of her neck to press an exaggerated, smacking kiss to the corner of (Y/N)'s mouth, "We'll go back to almost having sex instead. Sound good?" 

A bright smile broke out on (Y/N)'s features, lips still swollen despite the stretch. "Is that what we're doing? Because it felt like you were just finishing having your breakfast on me." 

Harry only shrugged under her hold, a lopsided smile being pressed into the apple of her cheek. "Didn't hear y'complaining," he told her simply, the words melting into her skin.

"I will if you don't keep going before I get cold," (Y/N) sung, teasing words their own kind of honey that had Harry's heart skipping a beat. 

Harry didn't say anything more before he pulled back, sitting back on his heels before he reached towards the forgotten honeypot that had thankfully stayed upright in the folds of the bedding through all the movement. With (Y/N) watching him, bare chest puffing with even breaths that he was determined to get out of order once again, he relied on the honey dipper this time. The hive-like head to the dipper was well coated in the nectar, but Harry still made a point to drag it through the thick substance a little longer, soaking it in. 

Pulling it from the jar, a long string that funneled back in to join the rest of the honey draped from the dipper. Harry didn't pay it any mind before he was waving the wand over (Y/N)'s body until he met the ledge of her collarbone. He drew a long line over the bones, allowing most of it to pool in the dip between the two halves before he traced the final bit between the valley of her breasts. (Y/N)'s breathing was stilted at the touch he dragged over her skin. 

With a touch of magic, Harry placed the honeypot carefully on his bedside table, right next to (Y/N)'s breakfast that felt like it could have been put together days ago as far as his  memory served. Reaching over her with his fists planted in the bedding on either side of her body, Harry pressed his face against the curve of her neck. The tip of his nose dragged along the delicate slope, following after the small kisses he planted over her skin before he met the structure of her collarbones. 

Just as he dipped his tongue out, lapping up the pool of honey in the dip at the base of her throat, Harry felt a pair of hands tangle themselves in the swirls of curls on the top of his head. (Y/N) pet the strands back, out of his face as she cleaned her skin of the mess he made just moments before, kissing and licking up the trail of honey from her petal-soft skin. A sheen was left on her collarbones from the lapping of his tongue that spread across the ledge, only sticky kiss-prints that he left behind being the only evidence that he had sweetened the area. 

By the time he followed the line down between her breasts he noticed that the grip she had in his hair was urging him in the direction of the swells of her chest. A self-satisfied smile was pressed into her sternum as he stayed put. 

"Not yet, lovie," he crooned to her, "Don't have honey there yet, so I can't kiss y'there." 

"B-But," she whined, throwing her head back against the cushioning pillows with a huff he felt under his lips. 

"'S alright, sunshine," he tried to soothe her, drawing away from her chest with a cant to his head, "Is that where y'want me next?"

The jerky nod of her head was all he earned in response. 

With a wave of his fingers, the honeypot was back in his hand. The dipper was useless this time Harry decided as he dipped his fingers into the jar. His index and middle fingers were drenched in the nectar by the time he pulled them out, only a few drips falling back into the pot. He disregarded the mess of the remaining strings that hadn't yet bowed and broken as he pressed his fingers to the soft peaks of her nipples. Harry watched as he swiped the pads of his digits over the buds, the honey staying put for only a moment before spreading over her skin and glistening. He couldn't help the way he sat back on his heels, admiring the way the honey worked itself over her skin, dotting her with drops of sunshine and sunflowers. 

(Y/N)'s hands had fallen down to his shoulders during his art project, but he could tell she was growing impatient with the way she arched her back off the mattress in an effort to thread her fingers back through the curls. With the added movement, the rippling of her breasts as she arched up for him, the nectar dared to drip down the swells of her breasts, painting the soft curve and giving him more reason to spend time lapping up every drop of the honey. 

"'M coming, 'm coming," Harry crooned to her in an effort to placate the grabby hands that tried to claw their way into his hair. 

As soon as the honeypot was put away safe from (Y/N)'s squirming form, Harry stuck true to his promise and ducked his head down until he was level with her chest. Licking a fat stripe over the peak of her nipple, Harry felt her shudder underneath him, another delicate arch of her spine to present more of her breasts to him. He allowed her to direct him just where he was wanted, staying steady over her nipple, soft lips sucking the bud with grazes of his tongue to lap away the startling pricks of his teeth. Her moans and breathless calls of his name was better than any record he could have plucked from his collection. 

It was only when he remembered the rest of the mess that was painted over her skin that he managed to break from her hold. His tongue lazed over the curve of her breast, lapping up the thick drip of honey that threatened to drop from her chest and down the cage of her ribs. Her breast was left in a sheen that matched the one sparkling over her collarbone just before a dotted kiss was pressed to her puffy nipple. 

(Y/N) relaxed into the bed, practically sinking into the springy mattress as he moved onto her twin breast, swirling his tongue over her nipple, collecting every bit of honey from her skin. Harry even felt his own eyes fluttered to a close when there was no more honey to lap from her chest, leaving him to lave over her nipple and listen to every hitched breath or sweet call of his name.

"Harry," (Y/N) whimpered when the blunt of his teeth came out to graze the soft curve of her breast. 

"I know," he crooned, flirting his mouth over the swell of her chest before pulling her nipple softly between his lips in a wet suck, "Keep pulling m'hair, sunshine, 's alright." 

Doing just that, Harry realized she wasn't trying to cling him to her chest anymore, despite the arching of her back. No, she was pushing him down towards the soft of her tummy and assumedly to the waistband of her panties that were stickier than the honeypot on his bedside table. 

"Want me lower, lovie?" he asked her, peeking through the fan of his lashes to see her with her eyes fluttered closed and lips poised in a gap. 

"Pl-Please," she gasped out, a stick-wet noise, "More, honey." 

While he couldn't be sure if she was asking for more of the nectar that he'd been drawing over her skin, or calling him her favorite pet name, he didn't really care. Either way, she was going to get more of him and the honey. 

With one more kiss pressed to her sternum, heart beat pounding against the bone, Harry lifted himself from his hovered position over her body. (Y/N)'s hands dropped from his hair, fingertips dragging down his bare chest as they mapped the ridges and dips of the blocks of muscle covering his abdomen. Through hooded eyes, she watched as he dipped his fingers into the pot, the dipper being knocked around as he swirled them through the nectar. 

This time, the extra drips worked to his advantage as he hovered his fingers over the soft of her tummy. He let the drops pool in her bellybutton, a unexpected giggle falling from (Y/N)'s lips at the feel just before Harry's fingers were denting into the soft curve of her middle. In deliberate strokes, he spelled out his name across her skin, all capital letters that shone as a sheer gold in the light. 

Looking up from his masterpiece, a smug grin on his lips, Harry saw a soft smile on (Y/N)'s lips that had his heart stuttering in his chest. "What, sunshine?" 

Her eyes were still closed as she shook her head, "Just tickled. What did you draw, anyway?" 

"M'name." 

The simple answer had a shudder running through (Y/N)'s spine, the extra drops of the honey rippling and going rouge off of the 'Y' painted on her tummy. 

"Yeah?" he pressed, a little too proud of her reaction, "Like having m'name on y'like that?" 

"Uh-huh," she breathlessly affirmed, the blunt of her teeth peeking out as she tried to bite back her smile. "I wanna see it." 

Harry perked up immediately at her request. "Can I take a picture of you, then?" The short nod he earned was just enough to have him snapping his fingers, his prized camera appearing in the same breath. "Smile, sunshine." 

Though her face was just barely in frame, Harry still hoped he caught the extent of her lazy smile and softened features in the photo. Nonetheless, through the viewfinder, he centered the make of his name sparkling over her tummy as the main focus before he pressed down on the button at the top of the camera. A shutter sounded along with the click of the flash, following by the whirring of the photograph being printed from the slot. 

As much as he would have wanted to wait for the photo to develop, coo over it with (Y/N) when she shied away at the sight of herself on the film, he had much more pressing matters to attend to. 

"I'll show y'after, okay, sunshine?" he told her as she shuffled between her legs, laying with his chest flat against the bed with his legs hanging off. With a flick of his hand, both the camera and the photo were stowed away for safe keeping, away from the mess being made on the bed.

Harry was just barely aware of the quiet agreement she gave him with a nod of her head before she was distracted with the need to tangle her fingers through his hair as he hovered over her tummy. His first stop was to clean up the stray drips that threatened to make a bigger mess than wouldn't be as much fun to clean as his Flame. He swiped his tongue over her skin, tickling the soft of his love's waist before he placed a gentle kiss to soothe her giggley form. The letters of his name were perfected with the help of his pointed tongue and the effort it took for him to not get distracted and lick over her in broad stripes. 

In an attempt to preserve his branding for a moment longer, the pool that collected in her bellybutton was the next to be sipped from. That had (Y/N) letting out peals of laughter with her fingers tight in his hair, only intensifying when he dipped his tongue inside and cleared her of the stick as best he could. 

"H-Harry, stop," she laughed, knees bending on either side of his shoulders as her hips bucked, "Tha-That tickles." 

"Sorry, sorry," he smiled, nose grazing her soft skin as he shook his head, "Almost done, sunshine. Jus' want to make sure you're all clean." 

She only settled when he finished with a puckered kiss against her bellybutton, her breathing ragged but sweet. "Thank you," she breathed out, carding her fingers through his hair as he started on the task of devouring his name as it was written on her skin.

As much as he hated for the brand to diminish, he was finding nothing had ever tasted as sweet as the stamp of his name written in honey on her skin. In deliberate strokes of his tongue, the broad letters he wrote in remained in the glistening tracks left behind by his tongue. With the sun shining just perfectly over her form, HARRY sparkled over her skin, not quite as bold and sticky as the honey, but still something that placated that primitive need in him to claim her despite the tether that joined their hearts. 

Though the sight of her heaving chest with his name glimmering on her tummy was the perfect distraction, Harry couldn't ignore the set of panties displayed right in his face. The last place that hadn't felt the kiss of his honey and the streak of his tongue this morning. 

Pulling away with a heavy breath, chest feeling just as tight as his balls under his hardened cock, Harry stood at the end of the bed. (Y/N)'s still bent legs were planted with her feet flat in the bedding that cradled her. With a gentle grip, Harry grabbed for her ankles, pulling them out from under her before he tugged her to sit with her bottom at the very edge of the mattress. He was her landing pad as he dropped to his knees, laying her soft thighs over his shoulder with her toes curling against his shoulder blades. 

"Still need me here?" he asked her, fingers hooking into the waist of her panties. Looking up, he found (Y/N) with her eyes bright and clear as she gazed down at him with wide eyes. 

"Uh-huh," she breathed out, sinking into the mattress despite wanting to keep her eyes on her man kneeling between her legs. "Please." 

A soft, lopsided smile graced his features, only a single dimple denting his cheek as he pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh. 

"Hand me the honey, please, sunshine," he requested, hands too busy tugging her panties down with a lift of her hips to conjure up the nectar. 

It was cute the way she scrambled to reach for the bedside table without straying more than an inch from him. With the dipper clinking against the lip of the jar, Harry took it from her with a gentle kiss to the same hands that had started his obsessed with tasting the honey from her skin. 

With her bare before him, still swollen some from the way he treated her pussy the night before, Harry couldn't stop himself before he pressed an affectionate kiss to her clit. Her toes scrunched behind his back with her hands scrambling to make a home in his hair. A quiet call of his name floated in the open air of his cottage, pricking his ears and puffing his chest at the sound of the whine. 

"'M excited about this part, sunshine, I can't lie," he crooned, swirling the dipper through the honey. Looking up from between her legs, (Y/N) was blissfully sunken into the bed, teeth gnawing at her bottom lip with stilted breaths expanding her chest. "The second y'let me start playing, been so excited to get some honey on your pussy and treat y'right after how many times y'took care of me last night. I know it's gonna taste so good with your cum." 

The soft of her thighs muffed his ears, clenching around his head even when Harry let out a short laugh at her reaction. 

"Ready?" he asked her, drawing the dipper from the jar with honey dripping from the tip. 

"Harry, please," was her perfect plead. 

In gentle passes, the dipper was stroked over her core. Each side of her slit was glazed with the honey before the bud of her clit was draped in the nectar, glistening like her wetness had been spread thickly over her pussy. He couldn't help but to press a nudging tease of the dipper against her clit, happy with the way she shuddered and almost arched her back off the bed at the simple touch. 

But, that pride was quickly pushed to the back of his mind when he saw the way her opening clenched around nothing between her parted lips. That had his mouth absently dropping open in a matching gape to the one on (Y/N)'s face, his hips pressing into the side of the mattress from where he knelt at the edge. The pressure of the soft bedding released tension he hadn't known he'd been holding since he started work on her body. Shuffling on his knees, Harry moved with his arms wrapping around the outside of (Y/N)'s thighs, hands pressed into her hips while his own pelvis was mercifully pressed into the mattress. 

"So, so, so pretty, sunshine," he breathed in awe, tracing the drops of honey that ran down to the crease of her ass with his eyes. "I wouldn't have eaten m'breakfast if I knew y'were gonna let me have you instead." 

The tugging of his hair was his reward for his praising words, the tensing of her tummy felt under his fingertips. "H, please." 

Nothing would ever sound sweeter than the call of his name in her voice. And, nothing could ever taste sweeter than that first graze of his tongue over her honey-covered pussy, sweet and tart and warm. A contented moan slipped out of Harry's throat as he reveled in the taste of her, cheeks already sticky from the clinging honey that he'd smeared over her body. He didn't pay it any mind as soon as he started hearing the breathless moans and quiet whines that fell from his sunshine's lips, his only job now to see how many times he could hear her call to him while he did nothing more than kiss and service her core as she deserved. 

Honey slicked over his lips as he barely remembered to clean it from (Y/N)'s skin, instead laving his tongue over the skin underneath, sucking at her slit and nosing at her clit. Wet sounds filled the cottage every time he sucked at her pussy, sticky and slick with the way he popped off only to dive right in with a shake of his face against her core. Her skin shone with the stick of the honey and slick of his spit, spreading as far as painting the soft inside of her thighs. The tip of his nose was even dotted with some honey that he'd collected every time he dove into her center. Broad stripes of his tongue over the full of her core was enough to remind him of the extra drops that were traveling down her core, and settling in the crease just before the curve of her ass. 

Pulling back, Harry wanted to look at the mess he was making, tasking one of his thumbs to reach from it's spot on her hip to press into the bud of her clit. Watching the way (Y/N) clenched around nothing, just the idea of him sinking inside whether it be with his tongue, his fingers, or the cock, had him rutting against the side of the bed, enough to have him dizzy. He watched as a rouge drip of the nectar ran from the slit of her pussy, and down, down, down. 

He watched as she keened at the feel of something dipping farther down, between her cheeks to somewhere Harry hadn't played with yet. Keeping one of his hands stationed on her hip, thumb gently petting at her puffy clit, Harry used the other to carefully separate spread her bottom open, showing just where the honey had descended. 

While this was never an area they had broached together, this wasn't uncharted territory as far as Harry's past was concerned. It was never something he was especially privy to, but now that the idea had presented itself in the form of dripping honey painting down to his lover's most intimate area, he didn't think he had it in him to turn it down. 

"Wh-What are you doing? Why'd you stop?" (Y/N) whined, hips shifting and subsequently giving him a better view of where he was currently trying to talk himself out of burying his face into. 

"Jus' looking at you, sunshine. That's all," he murmured, not telling the whole truth. Nonetheless, to appease her, he began pressing random kisses along the crease of her bottom, lapping up any fallen honey and charting her reactions every time he got closer to the cleft between her cheeks. 

He dared closer and closer until he fit his chin between, a gentle line of kisses with sweeps of his tongue being smattered across her slit before he ventured further down. His eyes were attentive and watching as he looked for any negative reaction the second his mouth fit between her spread cheeks. 

With the way she keened, bucking her hips into his circling thumb, she was either too lost in her pleasure to notice the sweep of his tongue as he collected the rogue drop of honey that inspired this want in him, or she didn't mind the intrusion at all. 

Harry grew bold as he nudged his way between her asscheeks, licking over the puckered hole typically nestled out of sight. The clench of that first touch over her was enough to even have his eyes trying to flutter to a close. Until, he heard (Y/N)'s voice.

"Ar-Are you—?" she breathlessly asked, cutting herself off before she could ask exactly what he was doing.

"Yeah," he breathed, the exhale fanning across her heated skin, another clench around a phantom touch from her little hole, "Yeah, I am." 

"Oh, my god." 

The way she bucked her hips hard against his hand, back arched with her head pushed back into the cushion of the mattress underneath was enough to have Harry pressing his own hips into the soft of the springy mattress. 

She fucking liked it. 

That was all he needed to know before he was burying his face between her spread cheeks, swiping his tongue over her puckered entrance. He never stopped the touching over her clit, keeping her content in case he made a move that didn't have her keening. Honey dripped over his tongue and stained his mouth as he tasted her deeper than he ever had before, the tip of his tongue sliding through the very bottom of her slit every time she keened into him.

The creaking springs of his mattress gave away just how into this Harry was, his hips thrusting against he edge as if he were fucking into his girl instead of tufts of bedding. It was enough of a trip knowing that he was eating her ass, tasting and kissing and giving her all the attention she seemed to fall in love with the second he made the drop, but the extra tension relief of pressing his weepy cock into the mattress through the thin material of his boxers was enough to have his mind melting to mush. 

"Ha-Harry, I'm gonna cum—oh my god," she breathed out, voice whiny and pitched as she pressed her hips back into his face. 

"Yeah? Like what 'm doing, sunshine? Like it when I eat y'back here too?" he pressed, knowing just how much she liked his voice when he was tucked between her legs like this. 

"Uh-huh, uh-huh, please keep going." As if Harry had a choice the second she cushioned his head between her thighs, muffing him against her core as her toes curled again his shoulder blades. 

His balls were drawn up tight against the base of his cock, leaving him just as close to the edge as his flame was if her whining and clenching around nothing was anything to go by. Her newly discovered entrance was slick enough, warm enough, loose enough that Harry couldn't think straight with the way he ground his hips into the mattress before he was pointing his tongue and wiggling just the very tip into her puckered hole. 

That was all it took to have her clenching around him with a cry of his name. Choked sobs filled the cottage, calling all the flowers in his garden to attention as their caretaker's love was shining like the sun. A shimmer filled the ceiling as she came, Harry's thumb never relenting over her clit, even when he felt his own unraveling coming to fruition from the way he thrust his hips against the bed. 

His moans were muffled against her pussy, tongue still pointed and clenched inside her ass as she slowly came down while Harry reached his peak. His fingertips dented the soft curve of her bottom as he felt his entire body tense while he spurted his cum into the fabric of his boxers, the material clinging wetly to his length. 

Harry didn't have any concept of time as he pulled his face from between her cheeks and began placing kisses along the line of her slit, apologizing to her bullied clit with a single kiss pressed just above it. He panted as he came down, body unclenching and relaxing some as he fell back on his heels with the help of (Y/N) pushing him away from her over sensitive body. 

"Harry?" 

Looking up, he found (Y/N) gazing at him with a plea in her eyes. 

That was all it took for him to scramble up to his feet and situate himself between her legs with his kisses now being pressed all over her neck and chest. 

"I love you, I love you, I love you," he crooned between every press, wary of the fact she might not want him kissing her face considering where his mouth just was. 

"I love you, too, H—Oh my god, I can't believe you did that," (Y/N) rushed out, voice sounding hallow and far off despite the thrumming pulse Harry felt under his lips. 

"Wasn't expecting that either, honestly," he told her, his smile being pressed to the curve of her throat before he drew away to get a look at her face. Hair in disarray with swollen lips and hooded eyes—just as beautiful as he remembered. "Y'liked it, though?" 

A bashful peachy color bled into her aura at the question just before a quiet nod was delivered with her hair fluffing against the comforter under her. "I didn't know that was something for me, but I guess it is." 

"If it makes y'feel better," he started, pressing a tentative kiss just below her ear, "I came in m'pants while was doing it. Think we both liked it a little too much." 

A peal of shocked laughter shook (Y/N)'s chest, Harry's heart bloating at the sound. "Did you really? I'm sorry, H! I would have helped you if I wasn't distracted." 

"No, don't be sorry," he commanded, voice gentle, "Y'did help me, jus' not like y'usually do." 

"I guess so," she relented with a smile, settling into the mattress with a tender smile on her face. 

Wrapping his arms around her waist, Harry hugged (Y/N) to his chest, not caring about the slight stick of her skin from all the honey he poured over her or the wet spot that was drying on his boxers. With his head in her neck, he wouldn't be surprised if he fell asleep just like these, even with his early riser habits. 

"Harry?" 

"Hm?" 

"I think we should shower." 

A beat passed. 

"Together, right?" 

"Is there any other way?" 

The broad smile that stretched over Harry's cheeks was enough of an answer that had (Y/N) rolling off the bed with his hand in hers towards the bathroom. 

Looking at the sparkling strips of skin that displayed just where she'd allowed him to pour his love, Harry made a mental note to harvest some more honey for tomorrow's breakfast. Probably a little extra too, just in case.

—————

Holding up the veil with the sparkling adornments facing her, Priscilla's hands were shaking. (Y/N) couldn't tell if it was the three cups of coffee she made herself before they'd even left the villa for breakfast or if Priscilla was three seconds away from a legendary tantrum. 

"I think they gave me honey pewter, and not the lavender pewter I asked for when I ordered," Priscilla rushed out, shaking the veil in (Y/N)'s face as if she could see the sparkles better if they were less focused, "Do you see that? That's going to throw off everything I had picked out for my bouquet!" 

"Hold on, let me see," (Y/N) indulged her, grabbing for the delicate veil before her boss could have a chance to rip it to shreds. Angling the crystals to the light, (Y/N) could see some warmth in the jewels, but she remembers specifically making the order for Priscilla and emphasizing how important it was that the crystals lean on the cool tone (it was easier for both (Y/N) and the bridal shop to just do it this way, no matter if Priscilla was difficult during the entire process). There was no way this could have slipped by, especially with the amount of email updates (Y/N) requested for Priscilla throughout the entire making of her veil. 

Pulling out her phone and swiping into her professional email, (Y/N) found the initial conversation with the bridal boutique owner, all the details of the order spelled out plainly before being verified by the owner. Inside the same thread, photos had been sent with very clearly lavender hued jewels stitched to the tulle inbetween the romantic pearls. Examining the photos further, (Y/N) couldn't help but notice that, aside from the crystals and pearls, this veil looked nothing like the photos she had received. 

Priscilla's veil was supposed to have a subtle sheen to the fabric, chosen for the express purpose of emulating the way the Eiffel Tower sparkled at night which was exactly where she wanted to have her bridal shoot the day before the actual wedding. Minimal lace detailing was meant to border the entire hem, matching the delicate bodice of the gown Priscilla planned to wear during the ceremony. The veil in her hand had none of that, something she was surprised her boss hadn't picked up on, but was grateful for nonetheless. 

Peeking over her shoulder, Priscilla was busy with her daughter, Lenore, as the toddler walked her around the room, pointing at every tiara and ivory gown the tiny boutique offered. At least she could count on baby Nora babysitting her mother when (Y/N) couldn't. With her boss distracted, (Y/N) went on her mission to find the salesgirl she'd just had a choppy, half-French, half-English conversation with. 

"Ex-Excuse me?" (Y/N) muttered as quiet as possible before the girl could disappear behind a curtain taking her to the back. 

"Oui?" she chirped, petite blonde brows raised. 

Holding up both the veil and her phone, (Y/N) did her best to remember the two semesters of French she took in high school. "Le... Le voile? It's not... It's non, not right," she struggled through, pulling up the string of photographs of the correct veil on her phone in her other hand, "We need this one." 

She watched as the salesgirl looked back and forth between the photos and the veil in her hand. "Comment tu t'appelles?" 

"Um—its for Priscilla King?" Despite the fact she knew she couldn't butcher Priscilla's name like the French she didn't know, (Y/N) didn't feel confident saying much of anything right now. 

"May I?" the girl asked in accented English, gesturing to the veil in (Y/N)'s hand. 

After offering it up, (Y/N) watched as the salesgirl's eyes immediately dropped to the ticket looped around the comb attached to the veil. It only took a moment for the girl to turn the ticket around, displaying a completely different name on the tag.

They gave her the wrong veil. 

"Je suis vraiment désolé," the girl bubbled off, muttering out something about bringing the right one before holding up one finger and disappearing passed the curtain.

(Y/N) let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. 

Priscilla had been a nightmare as soon as the real wedding planning started a year ago when she found out it was more than just looking at wedding magazines and telling her wedding planner what her budget was (there wasn't one). But, in the last few months especially, she had escalated into a territory that made even her fiancé cower when she was in one of her moods, and Nate was one of the most firm and level-headed guys (Y/N)'d ever met (he really had to be if he was going to be with Priscilla at all). And, unfortunately for (Y/N), since she was Priscilla's full-time personal assistant and part-time nanny, she got the brunt of it all. 

At least with this, she wasn't going to get her head ripped off, unliked when they found out the venue had accidentally ordered one case less of the very specific champagne Priscilla insisted on serving. That had been one that even had Nora asking why her mom's face was turning so red over some bubbly water. 

Stepping towards the case of the something blue's the bridal shop offered, (Y/N) caught Nora's attention first before her mom shot her a panicked glance when she noticed there was no veil in sight. 

"Everything's okay," (Y/N) shot off before her boss could say a thing, "They brought us the wrong veil on accident, but I showed her the pictures and emails, and she's getting yours right now." 

"So, no honey pewter?"

"Nope. And, there's going to be lace trimming." 

"Oh, thank god," Priscilla exasperated, looking much too relieved over this simple of an inconvenience. "(Y/N), I don't know what I would do without you; I'd probably lose my mind." 

(Y/N) refrained from telling her she most likely already did long before (Y/N) entered the picture. Instead, she plastered a smile on her face and hoped they would make it back to the villa in time to take a nap before she would be on Nora duty while Priscilla and Nate had a final meeting with their wedding planner before guests started pouring in tomorrow for the start of the three day long celebration leading up to the actual wedding on Friday. 

"You know I'm always happy to help." 

————— (Y/N) sighed as she stood outside of the banquet hall's bathroom. As soon as the guests started pouring into Paris this morning, she had been on Nora duty while Priscilla and Nate ran around with the wedding planner, leaving her to entertain the toddler for hours. Now, she was left exhausted as she lent against the elaborately carved wall of the hall, watching as the bride and groom welcomed their guests in before a dinner and cocktail hour would be served to kick off the next couple days worth of celebration. 

"Nora, sweetie," (Y/N) called, turning to face the heavy wooden door to the restroom, "do you need help?" It'd been longer than five minutes, which was cause for concern for the easily distracted Nora. 

"No, I'm just wiping!" Nora chirped through the door, much too loud given the echo provided by the looming hallway of the banquet hall. (Honestly, the space was basically a cathedral, as far as (Y/N) was concerned. Stained glass windows were placed high on the intricate walls, tinting the vaulted ceilings in shattered hues. This place was much more than a banquet hall, especially if the deposit for one night was anything to go by). 

The sound of a huffed chuckle came from behind (Y/N), the laugh getting her to instinctively turn on her heel. She had an apology poised on her lips, a reciprocating smile that said "kids, right?", but as soon as she caught who was behind her, she stopped a breath short with her lungs stunted. 

Dressed in a raspberry blazer, gold accents stitched through the seams with curling brown hair held back only by a pair of large sunglasses, was Harry Styles. 

Harry actual Styles. In real life. 

(Y/N) didn't have a chance as soon as she caught sight of that curving smile, dimples and all, as he advanced down the hall to the men's bathroom just to the side of her. She was sure she looked like a guppy with the way she gaped her mouth open as if to say something before snapping it closed. 

Sucking in a deep breath, the air coming in prickles through her throat, she did her best to form a coherent thought. "Sorry, she's just..." (Y/N) breathed out, an absent smile plucking at the corners of her lips as he came closer. He really did have the smallest group of freckles dotted over the bridge of his nose. 

"'S alright, it was funny," he told her, voice deep and rich. It was familiar to her—at least as familiar as a voice could be when only previously heard through a pair of headphones or a speaker. 

With that, he slipped around her. A polite, lopsided smile was on his lips, as he disappeared into the restroom. 

(Y/N) stood in shock, watching at the bathroom door closed heavily behind him, only a flash of the blazer and the flare of his pants seen before he was gone. 

That was Harry Styles. 

What was Harry Styles doing in Paris? What was he doing at this venue in Paris? Priscilla and Nate had rented out the whole space for the entire night, so no one outside of previously RSVP'd wedding guests should be here. 

There was no way he had been invited to the wedding, though, right? Priscilla surely would have mentioned if she knew Harry Styles at all, let alone well enough to invite him to her one-hundred dollar per plate, per course, per person wedding. Right?

(Y/N) even helped her mail out invites and had passed along the final seating chart to the wedding planner, she couldn't have missed a name like his, right? 

Just then, Nora popped out of the bathroom, tiny fingers grabbing for (Y/N)'s hand before (Y/N) had even noticed she was there. 

"I'm ready now," Nora chirped, already tugging (Y/N) back to where the bride and groom were shaking hands and hugging guests, welcoming them into the space. 

Though her brain was still a bit rattled (she had literally been listening to his music just this morning as she got ready and now she was sharing the same air as him), (Y/N) escorted Nora through the fray of guests until they had reached her mom and dad by the entrance. 

"There you are!" Priscilla beamed as soon as she saw her daughter, reaching her arms out to pick Nora up and sit her on her hip. "Got everything taken care of, Nori?" 

"Yeah, now I have room for dinner," Nora smiled, nothing short of proud of her accomplishments in the bathroom. 

Priscilla only laughed along with the guests that were slowly shuffling through the entrance that had caught the exchange, bouncing her daughter on her hip before turning to (Y/N). As soon as she caught sight of her assistant's face, the dark arches of her brows came together in a pinch. 

"Is everything okay, (Y/N)?" she asked, stepping out of line and letting Nate field all of their relatives and friends for a moment. 

(Y/N) floundered as she tried to find her voice, her mouth suddenly dry as the memory of him was brought to the forefront of her mind. "I think... I just saw Harry Styles by the bathrooms." 

"Oh, is he here already? I don't remember saying hi." With Nora hooked over her hip, Priscilla stood on the toes of her heels, eyes scanning over the hall in search of the head of brown curls (Y/N) could probably point out from memory.

"You know him? He's really here for the wedding?" (Y/N) questioned, trying to keep her jaw from dropping. 

"Kind of," she shrugged, dropping her search to match (Y/N)'s wide gaze, "Nate knows him better than I do, but yeah. His firm reps Harry, but they don't see each other too often. It's mostly through his manager, but Harry's always friendly and super kind when he comes in; he's so good at remembering the weirdest things Nate mentions in passing. We decided to invite both of them." 

(Y/N) didn't want to admit that she knew exactly who Harry's manager was and was excited at the thought of Jeff also being in attendance of the wedding. 

"I can't believe you've never told me," (Y/N) gaped, "You've heard me listening to his stuff all the time, and you never said anything. I helped with the seating chart and I didn't even notice his name!" 

A soft smile worked its way onto Priscilla's lips. "I know, I thought that was weird, but I figured you'd find out soon enough. You should talk to him more; he's really nice, (Y/N)." 

"I can't talk to him," (Y/N) immediately shut her down, remembered the way she looked at him like a guppy during the whole two second interaction by the restrooms. A wonderful first impression. 

"Why not?" Priscilla pressed, painting a bright smile over her face when one of her relatives skated passed their conversation.

"He's Harry Styles, I can't talk to him," she reasoned though it sounded silly out loud. That thought was only reaffirmed when Priscilla gave her an arched brow and a quirked smile. 

"Whatever, (Y/N)," Priscilla sighed with affection for her assistant, "We'll be here for a few days, so I doubt you'll be able to avoid him much, but I'm excited to see you try." 

Shaking her head, a short smile tugged on (Y/N)'s lips. "You want to see me suffer." 

"No, I would never," Priscilla waved off, "Nora likes you too much for me to torture you. But I enjoy seeing you torture yourself over silly things like this." 

Before (Y/N) could give any kind of smart remark back, Nate beckoned Priscilla back to the fray, where an elderly couple (Y/N) remembers as Nate's great-aunt and uncle was waiting to greet the bride. Priscilla gave them a wave before turning to (Y/N) one last time, something wicked turning the very corner of her mouth. 

"Have fun." 

With that, she walked back to join her groom, Nora on her hip waving to (Y/N) over her mom's shoulder. 

—————

"This way, this way, s'il vous plaît!" 

Tearing her eyes from the Degas painting hung up high on the gallery wall, (Y/N) followed the guide that was touring their group through the Louvre. With Priscilla, Nate, and Nora spending the day with their families before the craziness of the pre-wedding shoot tomorrow and the big day on Friday, (Y/N) was given somewhat of a day off of all her duties. After forwarding Priscilla everything she might need while filling out some of the marriage paperwork that went along with having an abroad wedding, she was left to either go on the wine tasting at one of the beautiful vineyards outside of Paris, or on a guided tour of the Louvre—both booked and paid for by the bride and groom so their guests can enjoy a taste of Paris as a thank you for spending their special day with them. As much as (Y/N) would have loved to get a little day drunk at a French vineyard, she didn't trust that she wouldn't be on Nora duty later in the evening. Instead, she packed herself onto the shuttles with some of Nate and Pricilla's family and friends that would take them to the art museum. 

Now, almost an hour into the tour, (Y/N) wished there wasn't a guide telling her when to move on from each room and where to go next. Of course each room was teeming with people just as excited to see the classics as she was, but that didn't diminish any of the magic she felt staring at the pieces, a tiny plaque next to them detailing out the title and materials used with a famous artist's name attached. She was currently entranced with the Degas paintings of all the tutu clad ballerinas—dramatic in the value but tender in each stroke—and didn't want to go before she had a chance to get a look at each and pretend she was there in the opera house watching those girls perform. 

But, as she had found during the beginning of the tour, the guide wasn't going to leave without all members of the group with them. He would stand at the threshold of the next room, mega-watt smile on his face as he waved his little orange flag above his head, beckoning the group to come this way, this way! It was easier on everyone if she said her quiet goodbyes to her favorite pieces with a lingering glance and a photo on her phone before joining her group. 

Before she could pout any at the loss of the Degas paintings, the guide directed everyone with a bright smile into the next long hallway. In here, marble statues and sculptures were dotted around the space, standing proud and glimmering in the sunlight filtering through the open windows. The space was otherwise sparse, leaving all attention onto the legendary figures planted across the room. Though she heard the tour guide spouting off facts and details about how important these statues were, how they came to be in the Louvre's possession, and some of the techniques that helped them come to be, (Y/N) didn't hear anything coherent. She was too busy trying to keep her jaw from dropping. 

How could anyone manage—especially with tools that weren't anywhere near as advanced as what was at an artist's disposal now—to make stone appear soft and pliable, full of curves and gentle give? Nothing was as breathtaking as seeing the hand of a sculpted man holding his lover by the thigh, his fingertips denting deep against her flesh, only to be reminded from the glimmer from the sunlight, that this was nothing more than stone manipulated to mimic human skin. 

As soon as she heard the guide announce in his accented English that the group was free to roam around the hall, take photos and explore the pieces, she all but bound away from the group. She made a beeline towards the statue that caught her eye the second they slipped into the room. 

Large, sprawling wings sprouting from Cupid's back almost looked large enough they could graze the ceiling as the marble swooped down in the shape of a muscled arm as he cradled his lover. Pysche was wrapped in nothing more than a sheet, the marble somehow looking thin and delicate like the silk that was meant to be draped over her waist in a cradling hold. Cupid held her gently as he craned his neck, trying to reach her lips and revive her with a kiss as the title of the piece suggested. They were trapped in that one moment, not close enough to share their kiss, but just near enough (Y/N) could see and feel the anticipation shared between the two mythological figures. 

"'S crazy, isn't it?" 

The same deep voice that made her breath catch not more than twenty-four hours prior brought (Y/N) back to the real world in the middle of the museum. Whipping her head to the side, she saw Harry Styles once again sharing the hall with her. 

He wore wide legged jeans with holes over the knees and a faded, vintage looking t-shirt with bunnies graphically printed along the bottom hem. A brown tortoise clip disrupted the flow of the line of rabbits as it was pinned to the bottom as well, bunching the fabric enough to reveal the waistline of his Gucci branded pants. The same large sunglasses she had seen him with last were perched on the top of his head, holding back the iconic brown curls he was known for. 

"What?" she asked, the sound of her blood pumping past her ears having drowned out everything he had to say the second she realized who he was. 

"The sculpture," he smiled, nodding ahead to the marble gods, "'S crazy people can look so real when they're made out of stone like that. Even the blanket she's wearing looks like 's about to float away, even though 'm sure 's easily over a hundred pounds." 

"Oh," she chirped, clearing her gaze with a blink before she turned back to face the sculpture that had captured his attention. Neurons fired in her brain, pushing her to find something to say that wasn't about how much she loved him or oh my god, you're Harry Styles, what are you doing out of my phone screen?! "Y-Yeah, definitely. I've always thought it was interesting the way these people were able to make rocks look so soft. I don't understand how, but I like looking at it." 

A dimple dented his cheek, that much (Y/N) could see from the corner of her eye. His arms crossed over his chest made him appear even broader than photos granted, even as he shifted his weight on long legs that toed at the ground with a hip pushed outwards. "I know what y'mean. I've tried painting something like this a few times, and I can't even get something that's actually soft to look the way this marble does. I don't think 's real; we're not supposed to touch, only because if we do, we'll find out 's all actually made out of sponges or something." 

A smile quirked (Y/N)'s own lips at his joking, a stifled laugh exhaling from her nose so as to not disrupt the quiet that filled the hall. "I think you might be on to something," she told him, exaggeratedly looking around the hall as if trying to spot eavesdroppers, "I'd be careful with that information, if I were you." 

A peek of his white teeth appeared from between his raspberry lips as he nodded to her joke, leaning into the secrecy they were creating over the subject. A short silence fell between them as they resumed looking at the sculpture, (Y/N) peeking at the plaque beside the statue though she couldn't comprehend anything knowing who was standing beside her. 

"You're friends with Nathan and Priscilla, right?" Harry asked, side-stepping into her space though he crooked his head, making it apparent he was looking over her shoulder at the plaque. 

"Yeah, I guess" she mused, impressing herself by how normal she was appearing through this conversation despite the rattling of her heart in her ribcage. "I'm Priscilla's personal assistant, and sometimes nanny for Nora. We're basically family at this point." 

"Oh, so you're (Y/N), then." Harry pulled his attention from the sculpture, looking to her with a bright smile and something like recognition going through his gaze as he trailed his eyes over her face, placing her for the first time. 

"I am, yeah," she smiled back, feeling her skin warm at the fact Harry Styles knew her name and had some idea of her existence. 

"Nathan's mentioned you a few times. Supposedly, y'keep Priscilla's head attached to the rest of her, and keep her from biting off Nate's when she's had a day." She couldn't help but think he sounded almost impressed. If only he knew what it was like to work with Priscilla day in and out, then he really would be impressed. 

"I wouldn't say that...," she trailed off, feeling a little too proud to completely deny the hard work that went into her job. "Nate's very good at calming her down, too. So is Nora. I'm just the first one she goes to with her problems." 

"See? That says it all," he pressed, dimples denting his tanned cheeks, "If y'weren't so good to her, she wouldn't go to you before finding Nathan." 

She liked when he said it like that. It made her feel important, even if she was nothing more than a little speck in Priscilla's grand life. 

"I guess so," she whispered.

Flicking his gaze from the statue back to where she stood beside him, he offered his name in a low voice: "'M Harry, by the way. Realized I never introduced myself even after I creepily guessed your name." 

The loud laugh that bubbled out of her chest had little to do with the joke he tacked on the edge of his introduction, and more to do with the fact Harry Styles had just offered out his name as if she was one of the point-two percent of people in the world who wouldn't already know who he was. He was just as polite as all the twitter threads and articles suggested. 

"Nice to meet you, Harry," she reciprocated, trying her best to keep her face from warming the longer she looked at him. His nose really was just as perfect in person as she'd seen in photos. 

If she looked at him long enough, pretty features on a broad body hidden under soft tufts of clothing, (Y/N) could see him blending in with the perfect statues around them. Fluffed spikes of marble would emulate the curls on the top of his head, hard corners carved from the stone would be the only thing could could accurately display the quiet strength in his form. Even the length of his pink shoelaces wound through his worn Vans could be perfectly carved from small strips of marble. He would blend right in with Cupid himself, only missing a pair of fair wings drawing from his back. 

Before their conversation could go any further, (Y/N) was broken out of her stupor at the sound of the accented English of their gallery guide calling for everyone to reconvene at the other end of the hall. She swore Harry's gaze lingered over her for just one extra moment before he followed her eye towards where that same little flag that was being waved over their guide's head as their group was directed "this way! this way, s'il vous plaît!".

It was an unspoken moment as they fell into step with one another going towards the threshold to whatever was next on the agenda, (Y/N)'s strides much slower as to match Harry's that was lingering despite the length of his legs. 

"Bummer, right?" he offered in a quiet tone as they were still steps behind the last stragglers of their group. 

"Hm?" 

"I was hoping he'd let us stay in here a little while longer. I was having fun," he told her, the curl on his lips just as secret as his muted tone. 

"Maybe he'll let us roam around on our own at the end, and you can come back," she told him, trying to rein in her hammering pulse from the way he seemed to be sharing something secret with her. 

"And, you'll come with me, right?" 

(Y/N) didn't have a hope in the world to stop her rattling heart and stunted lungs at his request. 

"Of course," she said in a pitched tone, heart racing too fast to listen to anything their guide was saying as their group was directed towards the next room, "I wasn't done looking at them, anyway." 

Harry ignored the hooked thumb she threw over her shoulder in the direction of the couple of myths suspended in marble they had spend their time in front of. Instead he had his gaze pinned on hers, seemingly ignoring everything else.

 "Me neither." 

—————

(Y/N) was relieved as she stood behind the line of the camera, watching as Priscilla posed and primped in front of the lens. The Eiffel Tower stood in the background, large and just as romantic as Priscilla had gushed over the second she pitched the idea of a bridal shoot in front of the landmark. With the right editing, the phots were going to look dreamy and worthy of being splayed across bridal magazines for the next decade, at least. 

Plus, when she was busy being pampered over, Priscilla didn't have time to continue the inquisition she had started the second (Y/N) climbed into the taxi that morning. 

Somehow, word had gotten back to Priscilla that Harry Styles and her assistant had spent almost all of the tour of the Louvre together, giggling and whispering over quiet jokes and fonding over the same art pieces. And according to Priscilla, that meant they were in love and had been keeping the secret from her. 

That's why (Y/N) treasured this reprieve behind the scenes, stepping back whenever a makeup artist came by to touch up the powder under her boss's eyes or a hairstylist perfected the waves that rippled her dark hair. She didn't need Priscilla feeding into the crush that was beginning to take ahold of (Y/N)'s heartstrings every time she thought of how she spent her time the day before. 

That is until her name was shouted across the set. A flash of Priscilla's dark hair was all could be scene as she disappeared into the impromptu changing stall that had been set up by the team hired to perfect the shoot. 

(Y/N) sighed before resigning herself to standing outside the stall while Priscilla shouted to her through the sheet, asking for more details of the 'date' she had been on the day before.

"Yes?" she called to her boss once she was on the other side of the familiar stall while Priscilla was helped into her second wedding dress (she had three looks all together that would be shown during the big day, and she wanted to make sure she had wonderful pictures of each of her gowns). 

"Tell me what happened in the sculpture room again," Pricilla demanded, "I want to know exactly what he said. And how he said it. And where he was looking when he said it." 

Remembering the way Harry had stood beside her, admiring Cupid and his love (which she later found ironic considering he had a role acting as his own version of the god) brought a shiver to her heart. The sound of his voice dropping next to her ear was vivid enough in her memory that she couldn't believe Priscilla hadn't already heard it with the way it echoed in her head. 

Still, even with her hammering heart and uneven filling of her lungs, (Y/N) shrugged. "I've already told you everything he said. We talked about the sculpture and then how I knew you and Nate." 

"And that was what had him following you through the rest of the museum?" Her tone was incredulous, (Y/N) not needing to see Priscilla's face to know how scrunched and petulant her features probably were. The spitting image of Nora when she was having a tantrum. 

"I guess so." 

A loud groan could be heard alongside the sound of a zipper lacing together. "C'mon, (Y/N)! Give me something fun!" she called, "It's my wedding week, and this is how you treat me? Not giving me even a little crumb of what it was like flirting with him in the middle of Paris?" 

"That's because we didn't flirt, Pris. We talked about paintings." 

Drawing the curtain aside in a harsh pull, Priscilla was unveiled in her second dress of the day, this one large and tulle filled with sheer panels on the bodice. Despite being dressed like an angel, the grump on her face was the perfect juxtaposition that described her boss. 

"Then why did Nate tell me his cousin saw you two huddled away while everyone else was looking at the Mona Lisa?" 

(Y/N) tried to recall when they had even visited the Mona Lisa, but every memory after the sculpture hall was more focused on Harry than anything else. She couldn't help but see him in every billowing piece of art, abstract or realistic. 

"Oh my god," her boss chirped, features lighting up at something (Y/N) must have missed. 

"What?" (Y/N) asked, about to look over her shoulder. Maybe the Tower had sparkled to life early? 

"You made a face!" Priscilla bubbled, reaching for (Y/N)'s shoulders before giving her a little shake, "That's what I was looking for! You don't even remember seeing the Mona Lisa, do you? You were too distracted by your new boyfriend." 

"He's not my boyfriend—I don't even have his number, or anything." 

"But you were distracted with him, weren't you?" The silence (Y/N) offered was enough to have Priscilla rocketing with glee. "I knew it!" she beamed, clasping her hands together with her manicured nails gleaming in the French sunset, "Are you going to dance with him tomorrow? I can change the seating chart with Adelina and make it so you're seated together for dinner if you want. Oh my god, I cannot wait to tell Nate 'I told him so' when he finds out you're seeing Harry." 

(Y/N) couldn't help but laugh at the miles and miles ahead of herself Priscilla was getting. "I don't think you can tell Nate anything considering the only place I'm 'seeing' Harry is at your wedding tomorrow." 

"Exactly," she cemented, trailing over to where the photographer was calling to his muse to resume her posing, "You should be thanking me for getting you a date to the wedding. So last minute, too." 

Before (Y/N) could offer any kind of retort, Priscilla slipped into the same thing that had earned her her fortune in the first place—modeling. (Y/N) could only stand behind the photographer and the line of lighting equipment, stewing in the heat that reached her cheeks at the idea Pricilla put in her head of dancing with Harry tomorrow at the reception. 

Sure, maybe he would say hi at the ceremony tomorrow, but she couldn't see herself as being more than someone to spend the tour of the Louvre with, to him. Even if the idea of knocking elbows with him on accident while they ate dinner got her heart bubbling with a rush of blood through her body. 

Paris was perfect for dreams, lovely romantic ones especially, but there was no reason to think Harry Styles was going to be anything more than a perfect addition to those dreams. 

—————

"Why aren't you in your white dress?" 

(Y/N) tucked Nora in front of her as staff from the venue rushed passed them through the hall, arms laden with bouquets of flowers Priscilla was sure to through a fit over if she saw they still weren't set up. In front of her, Nora almost tripped over herself as she looked over her shoulder at (Y/N), a fluffy lavender dress on her toddling form.

 "Your mom is the only one who gets to wear white today, remember?" (Y/N) prompted, pulling Nora to walk again at her side with her hand outstretched for the little girl to wrap her palm around her fingers, "She's the one getting married, so she gets the special dress." 

"Oh," Nora sounded, bright blue eyes shuttered by an owlish blink. "When are you getting married, then? Are you going to wear white, too?"

Despite having started coming around just when Nora was getting into her curious phase, non-stop questions flooding from her mouth with little filter, (Y/N) never tired of her prodding. Drawing her into one of the many private rooms attached to the venue where Nate's and Priscilla's families were gathering before joining the main hall before the ceremony, (Y/N) tried to figure out how to explain to the toddler there wasn't a wedding of hers that needed to be worried about.

"I'd have to trick someone into marrying me first before I have those answers for you, sweetie," (Y/N) joked with a soft laugh, a tease that went right over Nora's head as she looked up at her with her Bambi eyes. 

"Why would you trick someone like that?" 

(Y/N) stammered, mouth dropping into a guppy gape as she tried to talk her way out of a bad joke to tell to a toddler. "I—It was..... You're right, Nori," she relented, walking to where the little girl's maternal grandmother was waiting with a bright smile on her face at the sight of her granddaughter, "That would be mean of me." 

"Yeah. My mommy told me you have a boyfriend too, so it would be mean to trick someone else into marrying you when I'm sure he would want to marry you." 

Priscilla was lucky she wasn't here, otherwise she could be getting a glare full of daggers for telling Lenore something as silly as that, especially knowing who Priscilla was telling the toddler was the boyfriend in question. 

Before (Y/N) could say anything to dispute the case, she passed Nora off to her grandma. As she fielded questions about Priscilla's state the morning of the big day, (Y/N) decided she would have to wait on gently scolding her boss until after the ceremony at the very least. 

—————

(Y/N) did her best to keep her tears at bay as she watched Priscilla and Nate exchange vows, Nora sat in her lap with her eyes pinned to her mom and dad finally marrying after hearing about this impending wedding for two years (though (Y/N) was sure she could only really recall the last year's worth of memories with Priscilla running around frantic and Nate following in an apologetic wake). Vials of sand that represented each family member were now swirled together in a jar beside the officiant, symbolizing the union of their entire family through this marriage, one that couldn't be separated. The weather was perfect out in the vineyard Priscilla snagged a year and a half in advance of the date, just warm enough so she could blame the heat covering her skin on the sun and not the lump forming in her throat. 

As hard of a time as she gave Priscilla and the chaos that had filled her work for the last year, her boss was one of the closest people in her life. Seeing Priscilla so happy with someone like Nate—her perfect counterpart—, being married in the most beautiful place, her dream wedding come to life, was enough to have (Y/N)'s eyes sopping with unshed tears. 

Watching them be announced husband and wife, Nora joining them on their descent back down the flower petal studded aisle, (Y/N) finally allowed her tears to fall. Her eyes followed them along with the rest of the guests as the little family disappeared inside the winery. Gentle instrumental music struck up before ushers made their appearance and began herding the guests to the east side of the rustically French building, ivy and lavender sprigs clinging to the siding that would be the backdrop for the cocktail hour that would commence while Priscilla and Nate reveled in the newly married bliss and took a few photos before the reception started. 

These moments were the hardest part about going to family events with Priscilla: the mingling. As familiar as she became with certain figures in her boss's life, it wasn't like these were her family and friends. Her closest friends in this whole ordeal were tucked away in the bridal suite while (Y/N) was left to snack on cucumber sandwiches and tiny flutes of wine, lingering by the side of the winery while pretending to clack away on her phone. Here and there, familiar faces greeted her, chatting about the beautiful ceremony and how cute it was for her to keep ahold of Nora while her parents were busy otherwise. (Y/N) of course thanked everyone, reiterating that the ceremony was very beautiful, yes, Priscilla's dress was gorgeous, wasn't it?, and the menu for dinner sounded better and better the longer they stood out in the Parisian countryside. As soon as the dead air appeared, they would share goodbyes and chat with you later! before heading off to another group of people to share the time with. 

Of course, this was the one hour during the entire week that Priscilla wasn't in dire need of her, leaving her to her own devices as she read the same three emails over and over to busy herself. 

Until, of course, her name was called from one of the small cocktail tables a few feet over, a head of brown curls popping up over the crowd as she searched for her caller. A ringed hand waved to her just as one of Pricilla's college roommates moved out of the way, a giggling whisper shared with whoever it was that was at her side when the woman caught sight of who she was blocking. 

Harry, clad in a creamy white suit (he was very lucky Priscilla hadn't caught him, otherwise that ensemble would have been stained red with wine or something even harder to get out of the fabric) with a bright smile on his face, dimples deep in his cheeks, as he called to her. At his side was Jeffery Azoff, who (Y/N) was almost as excited to see in person as she was when she met Harry himself. He beckoned her to him with a wave of his hand, green nails sparkling in the golden hour sunlight. 

"Hey, you," he greeted her, a grin with his two front bunny-like teeth on display, "Been waiting for m'turn to talk to you since the ceremony ended." 

(Y/N) couldn't contain the smile that spread over her lips at his words, his eyes pinned to her with the full of his attention, the same way everyone always described when meeting Harry Styles. No distraction could pull his attention from someone he deemed worthy of it. "Really?" she asked, hoping he didn't pick up on the dreamy quality of her tone. 

"Yeah, was jus' telling Jeff all about all the fun we had with Jean-Pierre the other day," he teased, the green of his eyes glimmering with inside jokes they had tittered over in the marble halls. 

"He hasn't shut up about it for the past forty-eight hours, actually," Jeff chuffed, mirth in his eyes as he glanced at his friend, sipping from his wine, "I was hoping you could take him off my hands. At least you'd get all the jokes he's telling." 

"I don't know," (Y/N) shrugged, tension releasing from her muscles as she folded her arms over the surface of the table, "I don't get half the jokes he tells, either." 

Feigned offense piqued on Harry's features as he looked between them, mouth dropping open though he couldn't quite erase the slight curl on the corner of his mouth. With the single strand of hair that fell over his forehead, he looked entirely too dreamy in the middle of the French countryside. Once again, (Y/N) found herself grateful over the fact Priscilla hadn't caught him in his ivory ensemble—having a deep red wine stain on his suit would surely ruin the effect.

"Heyyy," he whined, a pouting crease forming between his pinched brows, "That's mean." 

"You've told the same jokes for the entire time I've known you, H," Jeff pressed, a fond smile on his face as he gazed at his friend though he didn't stop his teasing, "and every time you tell them, I still don't get it." 

Before Harry could interject any more pouting, (Y/N) chirped up with a matching quirk to her lips. "Yeah, he did tell the same joke twice at the museum. A little bit of a repeater, he is." 

"Oh, not you, too," Harry whined, dropping his head to be right in her line of sight. His smile was a little too bright, dimples a little too deep, eyes a little too clear to be convincingly offended. "You're supposed to be on m'side, (Y/N)." 

The sound of her name wrapped in his voice was something that echoed in her head for the last forty-eight hours since she'd seen him. "I am, he just has some good points. Sorry, Harry," she told him, speaking low enough as if she was sharing a secret with only Harry. 

Over the swirls of curls on the top of his head, (Y/N) could see the way Jeff was eyeing the interaction before adverting his eyes with a smirk on his lips before they were hidden by a cup of wine. 

"Y'could make it up to me, you know," he murmured to her, his folded hands coming up to smush against his tanned cheek, altering the layout of the soft smattering of freckles on the center of his face. 

"How?" 

"Save a dance for me." 

(Y/N) felt her lashes tickle her brow bone with the way her eyes widened, rounding and softening as she processed his request. She was sure that if someone showed her a recap of this moment, she would look like a moony teenager setting eyes on her crush for the first time. 

Swallowing around her suddenly dry throat, (Y/N) nodded her head. "I-I can do that." 

The way his grin stretched across his lips and the smallest dusting of pink coloring touched at the tip of his nose, could have had (Y/N) on a stretcher if not for the interruption that came in the form of one of the venue's staff tapping on her shoulder. 

"Ms. (Y/N)," the staff member greeted her with a tight smile that did little to sully her accented English, "The new Mrs. Davies is requesting your presence very urgently up in the bridal suite. If you wouldn't mind excusing yourself, I can escort you up right away." 

"Oh," (Y/N) sounded, deflating some at the fact she was going to have to leave Harry so quickly, "Okay, yeah. Give me just a second." 

The staff member gave her a strained smile, but nonetheless took a step back. She felt for the girl, really; Priscilla was a piece of work when she wanted to be and (Y/N) had a feeling she was walking into something gruesome in that bridal suite. 

Turning back to Harry, (Y/N) jerked a half-hearted thumb over her shoulder. "It sounds like I'm needed, so..." 

She trailed off, not wanting to be the one to say bye. Harry seemed to feel the same as he ducked his head, obscuring her view of him with the cover of his hair. "I'll see you later, though, right?" he prompted her once he matched her gaze again, the blushing green peeking through the length of his lashes. 

"Definitely," she cemented, taking the first reluctant step away from the table. Though her eyes lingered on Harry, she made a point to divert her gaze to her new friend of the day. "It was nice to meet you, Jeff." 

"Nice to meet you, too, (Y/N)," he offered politely, a sly smile stitched to his features she had a feeling wasn't going to dissipate. 

With one final wave, (Y/N) was beckoned by the staffmember back to the winery, hasty steps having (Y/N) all but tripping over herself to keep up. Just before slipping through the doorway, she couldn't help but toss a glance over her shoulder, finding Harry with his arms crossed over the cocktail table, grapeleaf-green eyes pinned to her. It took a matching of his gaze and a punch to his shoulder from Jeff before Harry came to his senses. In the waning light, his already golden skin was amplified, but (Y/N) could still see the tint of pink that dotted his cheeks and touched at the tip of his nose.

—————

"Thank you," (Y/N) muttered as she left the kitchen with a lukewarm plate that held her dinner she should have eaten hours ago. 

Trudging through the reception hall, music drifting through the room with the raucous laughter of both tipsy and sober guests clashing against the melody, (Y/N) couldn't decide if her head was going to pop first or if her feet would give out before then. She knew that wearing these heels gifted by Priscilla for her last birthday, red-bottom and all, wasn't going to be the most comfortable and arch-supporting idea, but that had been before she knew she was going to be more of a planner than a guest to this event. 

While Priscilla was spending treasured moments with her husband, both behind the bridal suite doors prior to the reception and in the guest-filled banquet hall, (Y/N) was filling every role she could to help. Fussing over Priscilla was a given, so carting glasses of wine back and forth and directing the photographer on what shots her boss had specially requested be taken was something she had prepared to do. But, it was when Nora was passed off to her during Priscilla and Nate's first dance, and never quite passed back once the toddler started having too much fun at a grown-up's table, that (Y/N) knew she wasn't to have a moment to herself for the rest of the night. Just when she thought she was in for a slight reprieve when dinner was served, something she could enjoy while also taking care of Lenore, Adelina, the wedding planner, had pulled her to the side. (Apparently, there was something awry with the wedding cake, but Priscilla didn't need to know about it if everyone wanted to keep their heads). That was how she ended up passing Nora off to her grandparents and her first course back to the kitchen staff, asking them to keep it warm for her so she could have it later, after she dealt with the tiered spongecake that had melting buttercream and slouching fondant decorations. 

It seemed that one favor she did, signed her up to be Adelina's assistant for the rest of the evening—or at least until everything settled down with only drinks and snacks being enjoyed among the guests. She was kept busy with every minute detail that began to run off the rails, things that didn't need to be shared with Priscilla but were much too important to leave alone. Even the photographer, the ever careful Frenchman who had the fear of God in his eyes every time he looked at Priscilla, had asked for her opinion more than once with (Y/N) practically directing the day's photos by the time ten-thirty rolled around. 

That was something else that tugged her muscles down by the root and threatened to drop her through the floorboards if her exhaustion grew any heavier. One of the perks of this venue—and the hefty deposit Priscilla made on the space—was the lack of clear out time. Wine and food were just the things to persuade guests into lingering on the property, which is exactly what they did, especially when additional courses of finger foods and desserts were brought from the kitchen and the bottles of wine and champagne were endlessly supplied by the vineyard. Looking out onto the dance floor and the semi-full tables surrounding the space, (Y/N) didn't see an end in sight.

But, Nora had been taken back to the hotel and tucked into bed by Nate's parents, leaving at least one responsibility off her plate. The photographer seemed to find his footing the more he realized Priscilla preferred her left-side and would enjoy any photograph of she and Nate kissing. Adelina had calmed down the second most of the traditions of the wedding were filed through—the garter-toss was one of the most nerve-wracking moments for some reason—as guests began reclining and holding separate courts at all the tables and others dotted the dancefloor to indulge in wine-induced dance moves. Priscilla had even settled well as she slow-danced with Nate, especially after changing into her third and final dress for the event, the fringed hem dropping to the mid of her thigh and sparkling under the romantic lighting draped across the rafters. (Y/N) lingered, on-edge, for an extra half-an-hour before finally treating herself with the task of picking up her food from the kitchen and settling in one of the back tables that had been vacated as children's bedtime had approached. 

With a barely filled glass of red wine and a lukewarm plate of pasta in front of her, (Y/N) dared to slip her shoes off under the table before folding her legs underneath herself. 

She didn't even know how long she had been menially scooping up her food, not even tasting the fine ingredients and expensive spices or how well they paired with her given wine, too exhausted to really process much other than finally having some subsistence in her body. That was why she barely noticed the knock of someone's knees against the underside of the table as they slipped into the spot beside her, the gentle voice having to call her name twice before she perked up. 

"Sorry, what did you need he—Oh, Harry," she smiled, pleased to see him when she had been expecting another person that needed her help. 

"Hi," he greeted her, the word coming out breathy and merlot-tinted. That would explain his messy hair and glassy eyes. The flush that tinted his skin looked perfect with his suit.

"Hi," she reciprocated with a small smile, "Have you been enjoying the reception?" She had a feeling she knew the answer to that one.

Nonetheless, the floppy nod Harry gave her, curls skimming his forehead, still made her heart bounce. "A lot," he told her on a breathy laugh, before his expression turned sour with a downturn to his lips, "But, y'said y'would dance with me, and I've barely seen you. Had to dance with Nathan's great-aunt five different times just to feel something." 

(Y/N) choked on the sip of wine she had tossed back while he spoke, clapping her hand over her mouth as she fought to keep from spitting it out. Once she recovered, a choked bunch of air filling her lungs, she shook her head at him. "I'm sure you did feel something," she teased, twirling a meaningless bite of pasta around her fork, "she's practically in love with you. I heard her talking to Priscilla's cousin all about you and how she was somehow going to fit you in her pocket and take you back to the hotel with her." 

"I wouldn't put it past her," Harry started grimly, fully believing Aunt Rosie's besotted threat. 

"And, I wouldn't blame her," (Y/N) muttered, the words falling out before she had any clarity of mind to stop them. 

A brilliant smile woke up Harry's grapejuice softened features. "Really? Want to take me home in your pocket, too, then?" 

Caught, (Y/N) didn't have it in her to pull her eyes from her plate of food though she shrugged in response. "I don't have any pockets, so I'll have to fit you in my tote if that's alright." 

"I can work with that," Harry shot back immediately, sitting up in his chair before scooting closer to (Y/N), folded arms settling on the table. "Do y'have extra room at your hotel, or will I have to sleep on the floor?" 

Her face felt hot as she couldn't help but take his intoxicated flirting right to her heart. "I don't have lots of space, but I'm sure I could figure something out for you." 

He seemed all too pleased with her response, bunny-teeth trapping his bottom lip between his teeth. Unable to draw her gaze away from his mouth, the very middle of the pillows tinted plum from the wine, (Y/N) draped her eyes over the faint freckles dotting the pink skin. Cute. 

"If you're not too busy still, maybe I could redeem m'promised dance once things slow down again?" Harry's voice was only a whisper that hung in the air between them, almost drowned out by the loud laugh that originated somewhere on the dance floor. 

"Yeah, yeah," she rushed out on a breath, hoping Harry wouldn't notice how eager she was to agree incase it was just as embarrassing as it sounded, "I would really like that." 

She would think she would be used to the look of his bright smile by now, with the amount of times she'd been granted the sight throughout this week, but it still threaten to knock the breath out of her to have it directed at her. 

"I'll keep an ear out, then," Harry told her, leaning back in his chair with his gaze going to the dance floor, staying true to his word of keeping watch, "Y'finish eating, though, before someone has a chance to steal y'away again, saying they need help with the music again or something. Barely had a chance to eat tonight." 

A pinch collected between her brows as she canted her head to the side. "How did you know I had to help with the music?" 

Another heart-stopping smile worked its way on Harry's lips though he kept his gaze attached to the dance floor. "I've been paying attention to you all night, (Y/N)."

—————

(Y/N) perked up at the change in tempo that sounded from the front of the banquet hall, a handful of couples still occupying the space while others were retiring to tables as the night drew on. Priscilla and Nate seemed to be in their own world wrapped in each others arms with no sense of time. But, for the first time in the last twenty minutes, their slowdancing finally matched the song that filtered through the speakers. 

Dropping her fourth glass of wine onto the table, the alcohol sloshing dangerously close to the rim as she clumsily stood up. "Harry, Harry, hurry," she bubbled off as she fumbled to put her shoes back on her feet, "We can't miss this one." 

"Miss what?" he asked lamely from where he sat, mouth dropping to a gape as he looked up at her. 

"The song—listen! We missed the last, like, three slow songs I think. We can't leave until I make it up to you for teasing you earlier." 

Harry's memory seemed to come back together at the mention of the song, his ears all but physically perking up for the time since he dropped the ball on his job of keeping an ear out for a suitable song to pull (Y/N) to the floor with. "Oh, yeah," he blinked, standing up with his knees knocking the table in his haste, "Get your shoes on. Hurry."

"I am, I am," (Y/N) badgered him, squishing her toes into the silk covered shoes. 

As soon as she was upright on the stilts of her heels, she grabbed for Harry's hand and tugged him to the dance floor. The other couples made a small space for them to join, even if they were clunky on their feet while others had sobered some through the night. (Y/N) tried to recall everything she remembered about slow dancing with a boy as best she could, middle-school rules coming to mind first as she placed her hands on the broad of his shoulders. A breathy laugh fell from her partner's lips as he tugged her closer, setting a gentle grip on her waist. 

"This alright?" he asked her, looking down at her with glassy eyes though that didn't fog the crystal green of his iris. 

"Yeah, thank you," she peeped, enjoying the press of his rings through her dress. "I should probably tell you I don't know how to do this, so I'm going to step on your feet at least twice." 

Harry didn't seem at all bothered by the shortcomings of his partner, instead dropping his head with a brush of his forehead against hers as he laughed. "I don't even think I'll notice." 

It was with that, Harry started swaying her off-beat, going against the grain of the rhythm the couples around them had curated. Neither of them paid it any mind, (Y/N) honestly not even noticing until she caught sight of Priscilla and Nate twirling out in a completely different flourish than what Harry had her doing.

"I think we're going the wrong way," (Y/N) whispered with a giggle, using her grip on Harry's shoulders to tug him down to her level. 

"Are we?" he beamed at her, not even daring to look around the floor, his eyes pinned her with no sign of removal. 

"Mhm," she hummed, biting back her smile despite the way it still stretched across her cheeks. 

The only movement of his eyes came as they dropped down the planes of her face, charting every dip and curve before settling on her lips for a lingering moment. "Should we change that?" 

"Maybe."

Just like the placing of her feet (though she'd only stepped on his toes once so far, that she knew of), (Y/N) wasn't even aware as she tugged him down with her grip on his shoulders, making his face level with her's for a breath. A skim of the tip of her nose against his was the final touch before she was pressing her lips to his. The wine they had shared from her glass was now sipped from each other's kiss, plummy and warm. (Y/N) drank from his lips as she sealed a kiss against his lips, tipping her head just right to get a little more of him without getting too ahead of herself in the middle of her boss's wedding. 

Harry's hands on her waist was the anchoring touch as they resorted to just soft sways out-of-time with the song picked by the DJ. Warm breaths that were exhaled out of his nose fanned across her skin, with every matching tilt of his head. He didn't want to pull away, that much she knew from the way he clung to her form and the shallowness of his breaths the longer they kissed. 

If not for their location, (Y/N) would have tried to figure out what the wine tasted like from his tongue. Instead, she forced herself to draw back, Harry following after her though he only managed to touch his forehead to hers. 

"My boss is over there, otherwise..." (Y/N) trailed off, her lashes threatening to tangle with his from the proximity. 

Something a little too smug curled at his lips. "Otherwise? I can work with otherwise." 

Just in time, the set changed, turning into something much more uptempo that had Harry dragging her from the dance floor. (Y/N) swore as they passed Priscilla and Nate that her boss gave her a raise of her brow and practically-staged glimmer in her eye. 

The privacy of their little table in the back washed over them as Harry made a point to drag her original seat to sit right beside his, the legs getting crossed over one another. That made it all too easy for him to drape her leg over his knee, just where he settled the warm palm of his hand. Now that the wall was broken, the flirting having opened a gateway with the kiss being the perfect key to get through, Harry didn't hesitate to touch over her skin. 

'When are you leaving Paris?" he asked her, his filter gone along with the boundary they had burned on the dancefloor.

Reorienting herself as she reached for her glass of wine, (Y/N) tried to remember what day it was. "I think I'll be here for another week or something. Pris and Nate want to have some of their honeymoon with Nora before I need to take her home and they can be newlyweds." 

He hummed as he took in her words, his tongue peeking out as he swiped the tip of it along the plush of his now swollen bottom lip. "Then, I'll leave in a week or something, too." 

(Y/N) blanched at his proposition, not quite following where he was going. "What?" 

"Y'won't have Lenore all the time, right?" (Y/N) shook her head. "Maybe those days, I can keep y'company instead. There's a lot of Paris I haven't seen yet, and 'm sure you've been too busy to explore either." 

Though she doubted that Harry Styles—world-touring recording artist who was known to slip away to foreign countries for weeks at a time without being spotted—had anywhere left in Paris to explore with her, the idea appealed to her nonetheless. It wasn't like the Louvre was the only art gallery and this winery the only vineyard. 

"Really?" 

Harry nodded his head with a set in his jaw. He was determined when he was tipsy. "'M sure we'd still see each other back home, but I don't think 'm ready to leave Paris if you're not going as well." 

The implication that he would still reach out to her once they stepped back on home soil, that he was sure they would see each other then no matter what, was enough to have a warmth hitting her features that the wine could only dream of inducing from her. 

"Ye-Yeah," she nodded, her heart bubbling in her chest, "I can let you know when Nora is with her parents and we can meet up. Maybe not tomorrow morning because I think I'm going to be a little hungover and exhausted, but everyday after that. If it's alright." 

The way he leaned across her draped legs, hand cradling the hinge of her jaw, an intoxicating kiss to her lips was enough of an answer. (Y/N) didn't bother to ask again even after he pulled away. 

Priscilla was going to have a field day with this. 

—————

By now, she was sure a sheen of sweat had collected above her brow and Harry was going to kill her for exerting herself when she could have easily texted him for some help with her things. But, (Y/N) didn't want to call on him to carry her things, her was already doing too much for her. 

He was already letting her crash at his place for a week—maybe more—, so there was no reason to make him carry her textbooks and a week's worth of clothing. She'd take a little bit of a scolding instead of pandering for more help. 

Just as she climbed the porch steps, the front door swung open only to reveal the alpha of the house with a bunny-toothed grin on his features and fluffy curls framing his face. 

"(Y/N), h—What are you doing?" As expected, the second Harry caught sight of the sweat coating her features and heard the wheeze of her lungs, his brows furrowed and he all but rushed to join her on the short staircase. "Why didn't y'tell me y'were here?" he reprimanded her as he reached for her duffle, "And y'parked so far away. (Y/N), y'should have told me I would have helped y'carry your things in." 

"I know, I know," she said, relief flooding her system when circulation returned to her arm, "I didn't think the bag was going to be that heavy, though, I promise. And, you're already doing so much for me, it's not fair—"

"Don't go off about what's fair with me, again," he cut her off, apparently having already anticipated this conversation, "I offered to let y'stay with me, and you're not inconveniencing me in anyway, okay? The only thing that isn't fair is when y'don't let me take care of you like I promised I would." 

(Y/N) sighed as he brought up his promise again. It wasn't a new topic, but still one that made her tummy flutter every time he brought it up. 

Years ago, when they first became friends their first year of university, Harry had been around when she had gone through a particularly bruising breakup. The alpha was not who (Y/N) thought he was, and that much was only apparent after she had fallen in love with the facade he had presented. Harry had been the only one to pick up when she called sobbing in the middle of the night, needing to talk to anyone who would listen and reassure her that she hadn't just ended a relationship with the only person who would ever love her like that alpha had screamed at her. 

That night in the dark of his student dorm, Harry promised her that he would always be there to protect and take care of her. No one would be able to tamper with her self-worth ever again, or make her feel like she was a burden or hard to love—platonically or otherwise. It had been a serious promise, one that he said in the deep grumble of his alpha tone and with his eyes matching hers as he said it. 

But, now, he loved to use it as an excuse to get his way whenever she wouldn't let him do something silly like hold her duffle bag or drive her to her early morning class. While she always made a point to roll her eyes at him when he made such comments, it never failed to make her heart feel full at the reminder of his promise. 

Harry was always the one alpha who never tried to change her or push himself on her just for the fact that she was an unmated omega. He was even the driving force behind her deciding to continue her schooling towards her master's degree after graduation. So, if he wanted to scold her a little for carrying her own textbooks or parking too far away from his front door, she'd let him. It let her know he cared. 

"Sorry, dad," she sighed, a petulant tease carrying her voice, "I'll park closer next time." 

"That's what I thought," he said, pushing her with a hand on the small of her back through his front door. "And, you'll let me know when you're here, so I don't have to listen for you." 

"Whatever you say," she shook her head, laughter filling the foyer as he piled on his conditions that she knew he wouldn't do anything about if she didn't adhere to them. 

"Good," he grumbled, locking the front door behind them before he continued ushering her up the stairs. "Got the guest room all set up for you if y'want to go that way." 

Harry's house was (Y/N)'s second home after her apartment, so the layout was easy to maneuver even without his hand on her back guiding her. Still, that didn't mean she wanted him to stop. 

As expected, Harry had the guestroom set up perfectly for her, just as he always did whenever she had to sleepover at his place. The quilt he'd had in his dorm when they met was folded across the bottom of the bed, the familiar holes and frayed edges brought a smile to her face as it covered a section of the fluffy white duvet he'd bought specifically for her. There was something especially intimate about him buying her something that could so easily become the perfect base for a nest, but she knew it was only a part of his alpha instincts to give an omega something so special even if they were only friends. The rest of the room still held the potted plant she gifted him at his housewarming, sitting right in the bay window as the vining leaves draped themselves over the sill. A humidifier was stationed in the corner of the room, just beside the walk-in closet, a detail she knew he had in his own room because then he could turn it on just before bed after grabbing his pj's or turn it off in the morning after he got ready for work. The bedside table had a scented candle left with its cap off, allowing the strong scent of him to be filtered through the lens of autumn leaves and vanilla whipped cream. 

(Y/N) felt at home as she stepped over the threshold. Harry's hand on her back disappeared as he moved around her, settling her bag on her temporary bed with a bounce of the mattress. 

"Everything look good?" he asked her over his shoulder as he began to fuss over the little plant in the window. 

"Yeah, thank you. It's perfect." (Y/N) could hear the smile in her own tone, with Harry surely able to smell her happiness as it flooded the room. 

Pride lifted Harry's shoulders as he gave her a lopsided smile over his shoulder, having rotated the plant just enough so the baby leaves that just sprouted had the most sunlight. "Good, that makes me happy," he told her, his voice a quiet croon. 

It was moments like these especially that (Y/N) couldn't believe he didn't have an omega. She knew that if she had the chance and wasn't so worried about the friendship they had curated, she would be clinging to him at all times, scenting all over and pining for his mark on her neck. He was too good of an alpha and a caregiver to be on his own, she believed. 

Settling on the edge of the mattress, Harry unzipped her bag with the intention of helping her unpack just like he always did when she stayed for a little longer than a couple of days. "Has your building told y'any more about what's going on?" he asked her, pulling out her rolls of outfits from the weekender. 

"Not really," she shook her head, taking his offerings to the closet with the door open behind her, "I overhead one of my neighbours talking about bugs, though. Like, a lot of them. Enough that the foundation or structure, or whatever, of the building isn't doing great. Some people might have to get their walls knocked down, too." 

"(Y/N)," Harry sighed, absently reaching for another set of clothes to pass off, "Jus' come live with me, love. I told you that landlord wasn't right when we did that walkthrough." 

"I know, I know, H," she said, used to this conversation from the many times Harry tried to convince her to move in, "But, its close to campus and rent is low, that's all I'm looking for right now."

"What happens when your entire floor falls through because bugs have eaten through the entire structure, hm?" he pressed, raising a brow at her while he plugged in all of her chargers. 

"I'm sure my rent will be even lower then." 

"(Y/N), please," Harry tried again, not laughing at her attempt to joke, "This worries me. I don't like thinking y'live somewhere so unsafe that they're kicking you out for a week—if not more—because the building might fall apart. You know I wouldn't make y'pay rent, and I can drive y'to class every morning on m'way to work." 

Turning towards him, abandoning the hanger she was layering with clothing, (Y/N) gave Harry the same look she did when they talked about this. "You know it's not that easy, H" 

"But, aren't we close enoug—" 

"You're not my alpha, Harry. I don't want to live with anyone that isn't mine like that." 

Though she felt bad to cut him off, she knew he wasn't going to understand otherwise. Yes, they were close enough she told people he was her best friend, but he wasn't hers. He wasn't someone that scented her, kissed her, or marked her. He wasn't her alpha. 

Something ticked in Harry's jaw as he matched her eyes, the intensity making (Y/N) want to instinctively curl in on herself. "Trust me, I know," he murmured, "I jus' worry about you, (Y/N). Please at least think about it this week." 

"I can do that," she relented with a quiet nod, "I'm sorry I worry you, I don't mean to." 

Rising from his spot on the bed, Harry stood to the full of his height with his arms open for her. "Don't need to be sorry, 's not your fault 'm a worrywart," he told her once she stepped into his hug, arms cradling her shoulders while he pressed his cheek to her hair, "Jus' think about it for me. Even if y'only spend time here until y'find another place to live if your bug building gets worse." 

"I will," she promised with a sigh, stopping herself before she could tuck her nose into the curve of his neck no matter how badly her instincts were urging her to do so, "Thank you for always letting me stay here if I need it." 

"I love it when you're here with me, (Y/N), you know that. Makes me happy when all I have to do to see you is go down the hall." Though no one else was in the room—or the house, even—Harry spoke with his voice low as if he were sharing a secret only for her to hear. 

Scrunching her eyes closed, (Y/N) curled herself tighter against Harry's chest. All she wanted to do was cling to him and inhale all of him that she could, scent him so she could take that crisp warmth with her wherever she went. But, like she had just told him: he's not her alpha. If she dared to even graze her nose along his neck, it would be far too intimate an act for two people who claim to be nothing more than best friends, she knew that. 

Harry ran his hand along the plane of her back, palm warm as he skimmed over her skin through the loose knit of her sweater. "'S gonna be alright, love. Don't worry about your place, okay?" 

While that wasn't exactly what was making her tummy hurt, she wasn't going to correct him. 

—————

(Y/N)'s absolute favorite thing about waking up at Harry's place had to be the fact she was completely enveloped in his scent from the second she opened her eyes. While everything was clean and washed before she came over, the detergent and softener smell couldn't even dream to cover up the smell of everything Harry that had soaked into the fabric. Bringing the sheet up to her nose, (Y/N) indulged herself in a deep inhale of crisp apples and burnt cinnamon, deep and warm and heady. 

All alphas had their own scent, distinctly identifiable, but they all had that deep dominance in common. Nothing could completely cover it up the same way suppressants could conceal an omega or neutralizers could cover a beta. There would always be a little bit of something—a base note of dark wine, or peppery firewood—that seeped through even the strongest of concealments. And, (Y/N) loved that when it came to Harry. She knew he set up a scented candle for her every time because he didn't want to overwhelm her with the strength of his scent after going from her light omega surroundings, but she always made a point to cap it before she went to sleep on her first night. By the time she woke up, nothing could hinder the smell of him. 

The only thing that could top waking up in his scent was getting to lie in it all morning—which, since it was a Saturday, she got to do. 

She didn't know how long she soaked in the smell of him, in a half dream state as she dozed in and out of sleep with the help of his comforting scent, but by the time Harry knocked on her door, she still felt like she hadn't gotten enough of him. 

"Yeah?" she called out to him, stretching under the sheets as she tried to pry her eyes open. 

Harry carefully cracked the door open, peeking his head in with a soft smile on his face as soon as he saw her wrapped in her bedding with wild hairs framing her face. "Jus' wanted to see if y'were awake. I have some breakfast from earlier waiting for you in the microwave if y'were awake enough to come downstairs." 

"What'd you make?" (Y/N) peeped as she threw her legs over the side of the bed, feet searching for her slippers. 

"French toast and those hashbrowns y'like." 

It was the same breakfast he always made at least once for her when she stayed over. 

"And chocolate milk?" 

"And apple juice, if y'wanted something different." 

She hoped he could smell the way her heart perked up for him. He really knew her so well.

—————

"Are you sure its alright that I tagged along today?" 

The lopsided grin that molded Harry's features grew as he looked down at her for a second as he steered the shopping cart. "(Y/N), jus' because y'ask me four different times doesn't mean you're going to get a different answer." 

"I know," she sighed, rerouting herself when Harry made a quick turn into the bread aisle, "I just feel bad you're shopping for me since I'm only staying with you for a week." 

Harry shrugged, reaching for a loaf of thick bread to be placed in his trolley. "I don't mind, jus' like I've already told you. And, it might be longer, remember? We need to, at least, get a couple of things for you to take to class." 

"I'm going to pay you back for all of this, Harry," she cemented, following after him as moved an aisle down for all things pasta, "I know you're going to say no, but I am. This is more than just letting me stay with you for a little while. I wouldn't feel right if I didn't give you something for all of this." 

"Just be happy and consider what we talked about the other day, okay? That's all I want from you—nothing else, alright?" 

"But, Ha—" 

"Do you like the five cheese marinara or the basil and garlic more?" Harry cut her off, holding up two opposing jars of spaghetti sauce.

Raising an unimpressed brow, (Y/N) looked to Harry's seemingly oblivious face between the two raised jars. "Harry." 

Puckering his lips to the side, Harry turned the jars to get a look at the labels. "Yeah," he hummed, "We should try both. I haven't tried this brand yet, anyway, so I don't know which one is better for the gnocchi." 

"Harry," she tried again, a giggle seeping into her words as she followed after his slow steps down the shelves of dried pasta, "Please." 

"Nope," he popped, reaching to the highest shelf with ease as he grabbed for a package of whole-wheat linguine, "'M not listening." 

"C'mon," she tried again, stepping in front of him so he couldn't get away too easily with the cart in tow. "It's not a big deal, as soon as I get paid I'll just—" 

"No, you won't," he solidified, looking down at her with the full intensity of his green eyes, "Remember what I promised you?" 

"I can't believe you're using that against me, right now, in the middle of the pasta aisle." (Y/N) playfully puffed out her bottom lip. 

"What? Y'don't like being reminded that I like to take care of you where everyone can see you get all flustered? Is that it, (Y/N)?" 

Maybe it was the way he didn't dare pull his gaze from hers or the deep tone of voice that rumbled through his chest, but (Y/N) felt her tummy tighten as she gazed up at him. Did she get flustered when he talked about the promise? If she did, she'd never noticed before. But, it seemed Harry did. 

"I don't get flustered," she countered lamely, fluttering her lashes as she dropped her gaze, allowing him to win that game. 

"Yes you do," he sung, a tease coating his voice as he ducked his head into her line of sight, "Every time I say something, I swear your eyes get all dreamy and y'won't look at me until your butterflies stop." 

"I don't have butterflies." 

Harry shook his head then, lopsided smile and a single dimple in his cheek. "Sure, y'don't, silly. And I don't smell them on you right now, either." With that, Harry straightened his posture and grabbed for the bar of the trolley. "Now, do y'want some of those little protein packs or fruit to take with y'between classes?" 

(Y/N) watched as Harry nonchalantly started down the aisle, moving towards the wall of refrigerators while she couldn't find it in her to unlock her knees and follow after. The muscles of his back shifted under his top as he pushed the trolley, black sweats hanging low enough on his hips that if he moved just right, she was allowed a peek at the tan skin of his hip. 

Something's changed. This wasn't the first time in the last couple of days since she'd started her stay that Harry had practically flirted with her. Sure, there had always been a little something to their interactions that solely came from the fact they were sexually compatible given their classes, but this was different. It was more than the friendly teasing that had been apart of their friendship since the beginning. He was doing more, pushing more, getting closer and speaking lower, a voice she wasn't familiar with. 

It'd only been three days since she started sleeping over—longer than any of her previous weekend stays—and (Y/N) was beginning to worry about what else he was going to start picking up on if he was now noticing just how easily flustered and butterfly-filled he could make her. 

"Are y'coming, love?" Harry called to her from the end of the aisle, his brows pinched as he beckoned to her. 

Immediately, she perked up, not wanting to be left behind. "Yeah, sorry." 

"'S alright, jus' stay close, yeah?" he murmured once she was close enough, corralling an arm around her back to tug her between his chest and the handlebar of the cart, "Saw some alpha looking for a little too long and getting a little too close to you." 

"Really?" She really must have been oblivious if she didn't notice a whole other dominating presence creeping up on her.

"Mhm," Harry grumbled, his hands on either side of her flexing around the bar as he escorted them towards the snacks, "No reason for him to be getting so close, especially when you've got m'smell all over you." 

(Y/N) was grateful for the fact he only had a view of her back when a small smile plucked at the edges of her mouth. If she allowed her mind to wander, she could argue he sounded... protective over her. Like he had claimed her.

"I'll stay right here, then," she murmured, "No more wandering." 

A contented hum that verged on a soothed purr rumbled Harry's chest. "Thank you." 

—————

(Y/N) jumped as the sound of Harry's laughter pulled her from her half-asleep state. Her eyelids fluttered open with a quiet gasp, only to see a different Julia Roberts rom-com gracing the television screen than the one she remembered playing the last time she had her eyes open. Maybe she had been a little more than half-asleep. 

Making a point to sit up from the curling position she found herself in, (Y/N) shifted under the quilt that was taken from her temporary bedroom. With a short stretch, she folded her legs underneath her and pushed her back firmly against the cushions. Leaning against the back of the couch, she found Harry's arm tossed around her form, the warmth not having shown up on her radar in her sleepy daze. 

Once he realized she was awake, (Y/N) saw from the corner of her eye as he gave her a fond look before ducking his head down. With his lips hovering by her ear, he spoke as if they really were at the cinema they were pretending his living room to be, "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake y'up. I promise I was trying to be quiet." 

"I wasn't asleep, its alright," she mumbled out, clearing her voice she in hopes of living up to her facade. Running a heavy hand through her hair with a clarifying tug at the roots, (Y/N) tried her best to suss out what was happening on the T.V. If she squinted enough with the sleep in her eyes, she was somewhat sure that Mystic Pizza was playing. 

"Right, cause you knew y'were drooling on my shoulder for the last half hour, and you jus' thought it was too funny to stop," Harry countered, canting his head to the side with a nonchalant half shrug while the light from the television highlighted the side of his face. 

Eyes wide and jaw dropped, (Y/N) felt her grogginess leach from her system, warm embarrassment replacing it. 

"I didn't drool on you," she denied, her eyes drifting down to the shoulder of his shirt before flicking back to his shaded gaze, "Did I?" 

A little too smug of a smile molded his features before he shook his head. "No, but now I know you were sleeping," he teased, his grin only widened when she saw her lips puff into a pout. "'S alright if y'were asleep, love. I can turn off the movie and we can go to bed, if y'want. It's getting late, anyway." 

(Y/N) was quick to shake her head, knowing the long day Harry had and that he was taking this time to decompress. "No, no, it's okay. Let's finish this one, and then we'll see," she insisted, focusing her gaze forward, "What did I miss?" 

Though she had her eyes trained forward, watching Julia Roberts' character find her love interest in a bar, (Y/N) could feel Harry's eyes lingering on her as he made no attempt to follow the direction of her gaze. Heat traced over her profile as if he were running his fingertips over the planes of her face. The warmth danced over the bridge of her nose and bounced across her Cupid's bow though she swore he lingered over the pillows of her lips. A beat passed before she peeked over at him, the intensity of his gaze confirmed when he didn't mind matching her eyes and didn't shy away when she caught him. 

"What?" she peeped. 

Something flashed in his eyes—either it was the light from the T.V. or something else, (Y/N) didn't know, but she saw it. 

"Nothing," he murmured, voice low and purring, "C'mere." 

Slipping his arm from around her waist, he pulled the quilt that was draped over their laps to sit on his other side in a bundle. 

"Wait, wh—" 

"Lay down, love," he told her, nodding his head towards his lap, "I'll bundle y'up as soon as you're comfortable." 

A small smile tugged at (Y/N)'s lips when she realized what he was suggesting. They hadn't cuddled like this in a while, probably not since before her last relationship ended over a year ago. 

Shuffling her way over the couch, (Y/N) laid herself out on the cushions with her legs scrunched to fill out the remaining two with her head landing in Harry's lap. The full of his thighs worked as her pillow, warm and comforting with her most favorite smell of all surrounding her, right from the source. Even with the muscles cording his arms and beefing his stature, Harry was gentle as he tucked the quilt around her form, keeping her warm and cuddled up. 

"This better?" he asked her. The dark of the living room allowing only peeks and glances at his features once the scene on the television lit up enough to do so, but (Y/N) couldn't help but hope she really did see the fondness in his gaze and it wasn't just a trick of the light. 

"Yeah, thank you," she murmured, feeling her eyes grow heavy now that she was comfortable and well taken care of by an alpha. 

"Good," he smiled at her, grazing his fingertip across her brow to pull a stray hair that threatened to peek in to her line of sight, "If y'fall asleep, 's alright. I'll take y'upstairs, okay? I jus' want y'to relax, (Y/N)." 

The soothing rumble of his tone and the careful skim of his skin against hers was enough to have (Y/N) fluttering her eyes closed in contentment. "Okay, H," she responded dreamily. 

Shifting to lay on her side, (Y/N) cuddled in with her hands under her chin while Harry played with her hair in soothing motions. Though she tried to keep track of the film for as long as she could, (Y/N) didn't stand a chance with the warmth of Harry's touch skating through her hair and the comfort of his scent wafting to her nose directly from the source. The audio of the movie became background noise that helped set the tone for the nonsensical dream that was beginning to shape up behind her eyelids. 

Until Harry started purring, of course. 

That became the center of her focus then. The rumbling deep tone of his purring comforted her farther than what just the smell of him and his soft touches could do. None of her previous alphas had ever shared something so intimate with her, knowing that purring like this could feel like music to an omega like her—especially seeing as how she was fostering feelings for Harry. 

Maybe he didn't even realize he was doing it, or maybe it was the pending dream talking, but (Y/N) liked to think he wanted to share this with her.

—————

Harry rolled his neck after shifting his car into park in the garage. With his eyes closed, he let out a deep breath as he relaxed into the plush leather of his seats. This week has been excruciatingly long, and it was only Thursday. 

And, it was because of (Y/N). 

His workload was the same as always, maybe ticked up a tiny bit just because one of his team members was out for vacation, but nothing he couldn't handle. The only thing that plucked him off-kilter was his little houseguest. 

Not to say she was unpleasant to live with—quite the opposite if his badgering for her to move in with him meant anything—, but he found himself struggling more than usual around her. Harry knew since the day they met that they were compatible. Call it instincts or the fact she was so obviously an omega that balanced out the alpha in him, but Harry swore in his gut, he knew that (Y/N) was going to be special to him.

But, that had been years ago, back when she was with another alpha and had confided in Harry as a best friend. Though he never really lost that sparkle he felt for her, it was something he was able to manage, especially as it seemed she didn't feel that same glimmering affection towards him outside of being a best friend. 

These past days seemed to be putting that notion of management to the test, though. 

Harry didn't know what it was, but something shifted this time around. Maybe it was him; he knew he was toeing into territory not yet explored between them with the way he flirted with her more obviously, and tried to squeeze a cuddle in any time he could manage it. Even with that, Harry couldn't forget the way he caught her snuggling up to his sheets when he woke her most mornings for breakfast. With the scented candle he brought up for her capped and stowed away, she had her nose tucked into the sheets that had been stored in his linen closet next to his usual sets he alternated through for his own bed. He knew, that even though they were clean and unused, his scent had to have stuck to them and wiggled its way between every fiber. She was looking for him when she smelled those sheets. 

Even the other night during their impromptu movie night, (Y/N) had been the one initiating all of the snuggling until he had to corral her into settling down in his lap so she could get some actual sleep instead of knocking her head against his shoulder. When she looked up at him after he tucked the quilt around her form, he swore he saw something extra in her gaze; extra soft, extra fond, extra tender, extra trusting. He even purred for her.

Trust was as good as foreplay as far as Harry was concerned, the notion flooding his heart and calling to his more basic instincts, especially when the idea involved (Y/N). That was what had been plaguing him throughout his work days. No reprieve could even be offered when he came home, though—especially not on those days (Y/N) came home early enough from class to get dinner started with her scent trailing all around the house as she cleaned up and did bits of housework he would never expect from her. 

Still, that didn't mean he wasn't ecstatic to be coming home to her. He just didn't know how much more his heart could take before it gave out and he had to offer it up to her for repairs. 

Leaving the sanctity of his car behind, Harry came in through the garage. Though he hadn't expected (Y/N) to be back already, today being one of the days her classes ran longer than his workday, he was surprised to find the entire house soaked in her scent. More than usual. 

With brows furrowed, he stalked through the house, stopping to take a peek out the front window, (Y/N)'s car wasn't there just as he figured. Nonetheless, he couldn't ignore the way his entire house reeked with the smell of her fruity perfume though this selection was decidedly more heady and dark than what he was used to scenting from her. There wasn't even a discernible trail of where she might have been, the mass of scent having permeated through the whole space and planted itself in every inch.

Though the more basic parts of him were responding especially well to the glaze of omega scent that touched over all of his things, Harry couldn't help but feel concerned. She wasn't supposed to be home if her lack of car was any kind of proof, so he couldn't see why her smell would be so deeply ingrained no matter where he touched. 

Trailing up the staircase, with every step the perfume only grew stronger and stronger until he was directed to his bedroom. The door was left ajar only a small crack, but Harry didn't need that peek inside to know what he was going to find the second he pushed the door open. 

(Y/N) sat on her hands and knees, back and bottom facing Harry as she rummaged through a pile of his clothing she had ransacked and splayed out across the floor. Every suitable piece she found was tossed over her shoulder in the direction of his bed, where her nest was beginning to form, full of every soft piece of linen and bedding in the house as well as everything that was directly Harry's that carried his scent to the max. She'd even plucked her own clothing off in favor of putting herself in a large shirt of his and a pair of slouching sweats he'd worn to bed the night before. 

His bedroom was steeped in her scent. The typical notes of cherries and raspberries, creamy strawberries and alluring rose petals flitted to his nose before they were blended and aged into something heady and dark like the wine he had chilling downstairs. There wasn't a single surface left untouched with her smell. 

Harry felt his chest tighten as he breathed in, lungs filling but unwilling to let even a single particle of her scent leave his body. With her frantically pulling a nest together in his bedroom and the extra heat that was added to her scent, Harry knew what was going on as well as his body did in the way it reacted to her. 

"You're nesting," Harry said, voice low but firm as she stepped further into his bedroom. 

With a gasp, (Y/N) sat up from where she was reaching for another of his knitted sweaters to add to the mess that was becoming his bed. She turned with a flutter of her hair, eyes wide as her mouth dropped into a small gape the second she took him in. 

"Harry!" she breathed out, her features molding into a smile before she scrambled to her feet, "You're home!" 

She crossed the room in frantic steps, all but tripping over herself and the length of her borrowed sweats before she launched herself into Harry's arms. Harry stood solidly as she bounded into him, catching her around her waist as she pressed herself flush against his form. The absolute contentment he could smell mixing in with her pleasured scent was only made more apparent in the way she all but melted into his hold, arms looping around his neck as he gazed up at him with hearts in her eyes. 

"I am," he mumbled, trying his best to keep his mind clear despite the way her scent urged him to leave himself to his most basic instincts, "Didn't think y'would be, though." 

"Oh," she sighed, blinking her eyes with a flutter of her lashes, "yeah, I left class early today." 

He couldn't say he was surprised. "Yeah? What happened?" 

(Y/N) didn't even seem to be aware of the way she squirmed in his arms, her chest pressing tightly to his as she lined her hips up perfectly with the full of his thigh. He stayed unmoving as she did so, forcing himself to keep a strong hold on his control until he had a better understanding of what was happening. 

"I don't know, I don't remember," she bubbled off for him, a lazy smile on her features as she began to play with the baby curls on the nape of his neck, "I just wanted to be home with you." Just then, her face dropped, eyes rounding out with lips turning into a frown. "But then after my friend dropped me off—she said I wasn't allowed to drive myself because it wouldn't be safe, so I'll have to get my car tomorrow or something, I don't know. Anyway, she dropped me off and when I saw you weren't home, I got so sad, H. I forgot you worked." 

As mind-muddling as this whole thing was, her scent clouding his head and directing his blood flow south, he couldn't help but smile some at her explanation. She forgot he had a job and wouldn't be home, even though he had said goodbye to her this morning before he left. 

"Is that what got you all upset enough to start nesting in m'bedroom?" Harry pressed, pulsing his arms around her waist when the roll of her hips got a little too deliberate over the full of his thigh. 

Her brow pinched in the middle as if she forgot that was what he had walked in on her doing, the mess on his bed having been thrown from her mind the second he walked through the door. "I guess so," she shrugged, "I knew I wanted to make a nest when I came back even if you were home, and I guess I wanted to make it in your room." 

The idea of (Y/N) toddling home with the intention to nest, only to instinctively go straight to his room, had him seconds away from backing her into his bed and shucking those sweats from her legs once he got her settled in her nest. 

"And y'put m'clothes on?" he murmured, ducking his head down until he felt the tip of her nose grazing his own. 

Not a bit of shame or embarrassment he knew would normally have followed an admittance like this came as (Y/N) nodded her head with a lingering smile. "I missed you." 

"I missed you, too," he told her, the effects of her scent having nothing to do with that, "Y'said y'don't remember why y'had to leave class? Or why your friend had to drive y'back?" 

"I mean," she drawled, tilting her head with a giggle, her throat exposed to Harry's gaze. He swallowed as he traced his eyes over the delicate curve. "I think I do, but I'm scared to tell you." 

The mention of her fear pulled Harry from his lost fantasy as he imagined sinking his teeth into the delicate skin that covered her pulse. She would look so pretty with a mark like that on her throat. 

"Why? You know y'don't have to be scared to tell me things," he told her, his voice turning to a coo that he knew would draw more of her compliance to the surface. If this was what he thought it was, he needed to hear it directly from her. 

"I know, I know," she sighed, matching her gaze to his with that same dreamy quality swirling in her irises, "But I don't want to make everything weird. I don't want you to stop holding me." 

His fingertips gently denting the soft planes of her back, Harry held her tightly against his chest, matching her gaze with his own intensity. "I won't, love, see? Hugging y'even tighter, so now you've got to tell me." 

Though she attempted to bite back her smile, the curve of her lips took over the softened features of her face. He couldn't help but match her expression with a quirk of his own lips, dimple denting his cheek as she raised herself to stand on her tip toes. Meeting her halfway, he ducked his head down and turned his ear to her. 

"I think, I'm having my heat." 

Her voice was a breathy whisper as her lips hovered by his ear, her breath fanning across his heated skin. Her words practically dripped over his skin like warm honey, sticky sweet and heavy as they clung to him. 

"Yeah? You think so?" he pressed, voice deep enough to verge into alpha territory as his arms tightened around her. 

"Mhm," she hummed, canting her head to the side as if she didn't know how tempting that sight would look to Harry in his state. She was lucky she wasn't being as squirmy as before, otherwise all the hard work she put into her nest would have been for nothing with how quickly he would have torn it apart with her on all fours for him. "I've only ever needed to nest this bad when I've been on my heat," she explained, her voice becoming the perfect counterpart to the deep gravel his was leaning into, "But, I've only ever had my heat when I've been with my last alphas, so I do—"

(Y/N) cut herself off as she jumped in his arms, mouth falling open at the low grumble that shook his chest. In a second her pupils were blown wide as he looked up at him, her breathing stuttering in conjunction with the racing of her heart that all but shook her veins. Harry watched as she tipped her head to the side, relaxing against as she bared her neck to him. 

"Don't speak about them," he told her, voice low and deep, just one octave above dipping into his alpha voice and making it a command she couldn't refuse. 

"Sorry," she whispered though she didn't look all that sorry given how turned on she was. 

"Are you?" 

The frantic nod she gave him as she trapped her bottom lip between her teeth was all the response he was given before she tightened her hold around him. He felt her body move against him as she strained on her tiptoes, her nose skimming his jawline as she spoke in a whisper, "Let me show you." 

Just before she made a move to stuff her face in his neck, scent him just as intimately as he had imagined since he'd met her those years ago, Harry was reminded of the flash of her blown pupils. Her breathless voice rung in his ears and the intoxicating scent of her that not only muddled his head but no doubt had her spiraling since she made the choice to come home earlier in the day. He was quick to shift his hold on her, grabbing for the back of her neck before she could make the choice to scent him, a line they never crossed when they were both sound of mind. 

(Y/N) whined when she was stopped, her brows pinching as her lips puffed into a pout. "Why did you do that?" 

It took every bit of strength he had to combat his instincts, trying to tame himself against the heat of her body and the fact she was so willing to do anything for him, anything to make him happy. If she really was in her heat, the fact she had only every gone through them with whatever alpha she had been with at the time made it that much clearer to Harry that this wasn't something she would want with him normally. She wasn't of sound mind. She thought she wanted him because he was the closest alpha to her—the easiest one around to quell her needs.

While he wasn't in a much better headspace than her, he knew he had a better chance of saving them from the regret (for (Y/N) when she woke up and realized she'd let someone she only had platonic feelings for be so intimate with her) and heartbreak (for Harry when he saw her come to that realization) that would ensue the morning after. This wasn't a good idea despite how much his body wanted to convince him otherwise. 

"We can't, (Y/N)," he told her, softening his tone as he massaged the back of her neck in hopes of soothing the rough way he had grabbed her in the first place. 

"Why not?" she whined, her arms around his neck tightening, "Don't you want me? I thought you liked my nest, and I've been making dinner and cleaning up while you're at work. I thought I've been a good omega for you." 

Rolling his lips between his teeth, Harry forced himself to refocus as he listened to her. 

"Y'have been really good, (Y/N). Such a good omega, you know that," he attempted to soothe her, distracting her with his words as he unlaced his hands around her waist in favor of unwinding her arms from his neck. He watched as he perked up at the praise. "I'd be so lucky to have you, I know that. I've wanted y'for so long it hurts, but you don't want me like that." 

(Y/N) was quick to shut him down with a shake of her head, her hands in his turning into a tight grip that urged him to stay. "That's not true! I do want you! I nested with all your clothes, Harry! I want you around me all the time, you're the only one that can make me feel better. I love you, isn't that enough?" 

He swallowed as he tried not to let her pleading go to his head. He'd been waiting around for years to hear her say anything close to that ramble she just shared with him. But, the second he reminded himself that wasn't really her—that it wasn't really his shy, sweet best friend who looked to him for comfort and safety without the pressure of other alphas—he knew he couldn't let himself get caught up. 

"Of course, that's enough, (Y/N). I jus' don't think rig—" 

"Don't you love me, too?" 

The back of Harry's jaw ticked as he processed her words, his gaze dropping to the ledge of her collarbones. He didn't have the strength to look into her eyes as she said things like that and keep his head on straight. 

"I do, (Y/N), so much. For so long, too. But, I think you and I both know that you're not in the right state of mind right now for us to talk about that, right? Are you listening to me?" Maybe he was using his alpha-sway to his advantage, but he needed to know (Y/N) was listening to him, even if she wasn't quite understanding or agreeing for the time being. 

"But—" 

"No, jus' need y'to listen to me right now—that's how you'll be a good omega for me," he explained, tilting his head as he waited for her to mirror him to know she was in tune to what he was saying. "I think your heat is telling you that y'need me, but I don't think that's true. And I wouldn't want to do anything to my best friend that might upset her, even if she thinks its what she wants. Do I?" 

The short shake of her head he earned was enough to have a lopsided smile curling his lips. 

"You won't upset me, though," she peeped back, eyes shining, "I want you so bad because I love you, Harry." 

Though the sentiment she shared was enough to have his already hammering heart skip a beat, he needed to level himself out before he only did something that would upset himself in the morning. 

"I know," he told her, thought he wasn't so sure of that, "How about y'sleep in m'room tonight, and we'll see how y'feel in the morning if anything's changed. Do whatever y'need to do to make yourself happy, alright? I'll be downstairs." On instinct, he wanted to tack on that she could could grab him if she needed him, but that wasn't the kind of invitation she needed to hear at the moment. "I want to help you, love, I really do. But, I can't." 

Harry swore his heart broke as he watched her face fall, tears tingling on the waterline of her eyes as he sat her down on the edge of his bed. The mess of his clothes and fluffy linens shifted as the mattress sunk under her weight, but she didn't seem to pay her little project any mind with the way her eyes were glued to him. 

"I'll see you in the morning, alright?" 

Harry waited for any kind of response until (Y/N) only gave him a small nod. 

He was able to make it out, door shut behind him just before he heard the beginning of her breathless crying. 

—————

Waking up in the morning, Harry felt more exhausted than he's sure he would have if he had just stayed upstairs with (Y/N). 

Scrubbing his hands over his face, he sat up from where he made an impromptu bed on the couch with the single sheet (Y/N) had left in the closet during her effort to make her elaborate nest. He cringed as he rolled his neck; the throw pillow he had stuffed under his head put a crick in the muscles during the three hours he was able to sleep. 

It wasn't (Y/N)'s fault that he wasn't able to shut his mind off or stop listening to everything happening only a floor above him until he finally passed out at three a.m.. She had whined for him for an hour, the cries muffled through the floor separating them, but he knew she was calling for him with every puffed sob. Guilt plagued his every thought as he listened, willing himself to stay just where he was at on the living room couch, no matter how much the alpha in him urged him to soothe his favorite little omega and give her anything she wanted. After she calmed down from that, he listened to the way she darted through his room, her feet shuffling over the floor as she assumedly perfected her nest or whatever she needed to do to fulfill herself without an alpha at her disposal. He tried hard not to think about what the creaking of his mattress could mean the later the night went on. It was only when she seemed to find her own reprieve, quieting for a bit of time, that Harry was able to lull himself to sleep. 

Now, at six a.m., his body apparently deciding he didn't need anymore sleep though his brain begged to differ, he figured he might as well check in on (Y/N). If he thought he had a bad night, he could only imagine how the last handful of hours had been for her. He didn't know how much of their conversation the night before was something that would still hurt her in the light of day, but he hoped anything he said that would still upset her sound mind could be soothed with a plate of his cinnamon French toast and that special raspberry honey he found at the farmer's market that she loved. 

Stretching out his limbs, Harry caught his bearings. Swinging his legs over the side of the couch, his bare feet touching the hardwood sent an orienting chill up his body. Not only was his neck and back going to hurt for the next three days at least, he'd also managed to sleep in his work clothes, keeping him from getting comfortable in his skin. The best part, he was going to have to shower and change right into another set just like it. 

Standing from the couch, he made slow work of folding up the sheet and placing it at the foot of the couch, to be put away when he had a moment. It wasn't until he started towards the bedroom upstairs that he realized there was noise coming from the kitchen, silence filling the upstairs. A pinch pulled at his brows as he slowly woke fully. 

While there was evidence of (Y/N)'s perfume everywhere in his house still, the concentration had dropped considerably. The sweetened top notes that he always associated with her won out against the dark merlot-heavy essence that mixed in the night before. Everything was decidedly less frantic throughout the house, less muddled and more in order, even if that was just because the haze of her scent was no longer clouding his judgment. 

"(Y/N)?" he called out as he ventured towards the kitchen. 

"I'm in here," she answered, her voice decidedly quieter than what he was hollering through the house. She was embarrassed, that much he could tell already, her scent growing demure as if she were trying to shrink herself from the inside out. 

Stepping into the kitchen, he found her now dressed in her own pajamas, damp hair pulled up from her neck into a twist as she stood in front of the stove. The entire kitchen had been wiped down from the midnight snack he made for himself after (Y/N) had settled some in the night, leaving only the supplies she'd used while making breakfast on the counter. 

"Morning," he mumbled, finding a post at the kitchen island to lean into with his elbows on the surface. 

"Morning," she chirped back, trying to hide the demure rose he could smell in her scent. "I'm just finishing up the hashbrowns, but I already made omelettes and everything. It should be ready in a second."

Typically, heats could last somewhere from three days to a full seven depending on the omegas needs and whether or not an alpha was there to fulfill them. Even in the most mild of cases—which hers was not if any of the frantic bubbling and devastated pleas for him to stay were anything to go by—(Y/N) shouldn't be up and caring for him so early in the morning. She even had time to shower and wash her hair, something Harry knew could take her close to an hour depending on how long she felt like luxuriating under the water. 

"How are y'feeling?" he tested, watching her for reactions despite the way she had her back to him. 

With spatula in hand, she scooped out the shreds of potatoes and doled out sections to each plate. She shrugged as she did so, though Harry could see the set of her spine was anything but nonchalant. 

"It was—um—it was a false heat," she murmured, "So, I was able to sleep it off after I calmed down." 

"Oh," he sounded, nodding his head. That wasn't too surprising; it's happened before to omegas. If they spend enough time around an alpha, someone they trust but might not be intimate with, it can push them into a false heat with their body running through the adrenaline and the need for a companion, only for the effects to wear off in twenty-four hours. 

"Yeah," she affirmed, turning to him with their plates of breakfast in hand. Silence settled over them as she rounded the island and picked a stool near where Harry was leaning, his plate being placed just at his side. Taking the invitation to sit, Harry waited as he watched her, noting the way she seemed tightly wound and unable to look at him for longer than a second before her eyes were focusing on something else. 

"Y'feel alright now, though?" he gently prodded. Something was wrong and she wasn't sharing it with him.

"Yeah, just tired," she simplified, nodding her head before she poked at her omelette with her fork. 

"Gonna stay home today, then?" he asked, cutting off a bite of the hashbrowns with the side of his fork. 

"Kind of have to since I don't have my car," she breathed out, attempting to make herself laugh in spite of the obvious discomfort surrounding her. 

"Right," he smiled, the curl nothing more than a facade that he wanted so badly to ease (Y/N). 

Every word that came out of her mouth was a chirp, nothing more. No explanation, as if to avoid any kind of conversation with him. This wasn't at all how he saw the morning after, especially not after he tried so hard to keep things from getting messy between them.

"Harry?" she asked after a beat, looking to him though her eyes were stationed on the countertop under his hand. After Harry hummed an acknowledgment, she paused as she took in a deep breath, flitting her eyes to his where he found a sheen covering them. "I'm so sorry," she peeped.

In an instant he was off his stool with open arms, moving to collect her and soothe her, "Oh, (Y/N)." 

"No, no," she shook her head, her fork clattering to her plate as she waved her hands in front of her. Harry stopped in his tracks, wanting so badly to soothe her but knowing that she wasn't going to let him. "What I did last night wasn't right, and it wasn't fair. I tried to force myself on you after you said no so many times, and then kicked you out of your room all because I couldn't calm down. It's not f-fair"—now the sniffling began with tears running over her waterline—"that I went th-through all of your stuff without asking, all because I wanted to ne-nest. I'm so, so, so sorry. I can't be-believe I did all that to you and you were still so nice to me." 

By then, she couldn't contain the sobs that puffed her chest and stunted her lungs. Harry couldn't hold himself back as he saw her hang her head in her hands, palms to her eyes as she cried her heart out in the middle of his kitchen. As carefully as he could manage, he wrapped her in his arms, giving a moment's time for her to push him away if she wanted her space, but it was her that snuggled deeper against his chest once the warmth was offered. 

"'S alright, (Y/N), really," he crooned to her, dropping a kiss to the top of her head before smushing his cheek in the same spot, "I know that wasn't you, okay? You're such a sweet girl, I knew y'weren't being yourself as soon as y'started talking to me like that. I don't blame you, okay? Heats and ruts can make us do crazy things, especially when we aren't prepared." A smile quirked his lips when he felt her nod her head against his chest, tears smattering his shirt as she clutched the fabric in her fists. "And I offered to sleep on the couch, remember? I knew y'needed your space and I didn't mind that y'needed m'things or m'bed to feel comfortable through it all. Besides, it was a wonderful little nest y'made, no reason for me to complain." 

A hiccuping laugh was muffled against his chest as she nuzzled her nose into his top. "Th-Thank you." 

"I wish I could have taken care of you, so y'didn't wake up feeling like this. I was so worried, I jus' didn't know how to help you, (Y/N). It scared me," he murmured to her, the words sinking into the strands of her hair. 

"I didn't mean to." 

"I know, sweet girl, I know. Not your fault at all, remember?" 

A beat passed as she melted into his arms, the scent of her curling and flourishing the more she let herself relax after the morning she'd had. With her face still tucked against his chest, the tip of her nose skimming his skin through his top, she whispered, "Can I ask you something?" 

"Course, sweet girl." He liked the way her scent peaked in contentment, roses blooming and strawberries flowering anytime he dubbed her his sweet girl. 

"Last night, I know I was kind of out of it, but I remember you telling me you loved me," she started, "It didn't feel like when you usually tell me, though. I-I think you told me you've loved me for a long time... What did you mean when you said that?" 

Now it was Harry's turn to go dry-mouthed as he fought to formulate an answer. He had almost been hoping she wouldn't remember something like that. 

He must have floundered for a second too long when (Y/N) pulled away from his chest, looking up to him with glossy, red-rimmed eyes before she tried to backtrack. "If I'm totally wrong, that's fine, I'm sorry I brought it up. I don—" 

"You weren't," he cut her off in a rush, the words falling from his mouth before he could control them, "You weren't wrong." 

Harry watched as her eyes widened with a glimmer sparking through her irises. The smallest curve plucked at the corner of her lips just as her scent went even sweeter—a sign of sticky, sweet joy dribbling into her system.

"I'm not?" 

Taking in a deep breath full of her fruited scent, Harry shook his head. "No, I did say that," he started, shifting his hold on her to land with his hands on her waist, "And I meant it differently than when we usually say it. I meant it." 

The hands she had bundled in his top tightened, the fabric hers now with how hard she gripped it. "You meant it like—like—" 

"Like 'm in love with you." 

The way she perked up in his arms with a quiet gasp had all of Harry's worry draining from his system. She looped her arms around his neck, mimicking the position he found himself with her the night before but with much more clarity and less squirming. "Are you being serious, Harry?" she bubbled off, bouncing in her spot with her eyes bright and smile big. 

Seeing her get so excited made his heart race. "Why wouldn't I be?" 

"Because, you're—I—," (Y/N) couldn't contain herself as she pulled herself to his chest with a bubbly squeal, "You like me!" 

"I do," he cemented with a breathy laugh, ducking his head down until the tip of his nose was skimming hers, "Can I take it that y'like me back?" 

She nodded her head, hair fluttering around her face that had escaped from her clip, "So, so, so much!" 

"Yeah?" he murmured, voice low and cooing, "Enough to let me kiss you?" 

All it took was the bubbling nod of her head, nose nudging his in the process, before Harry stamped his lips against hers. It was clumsy with the way she struggled to keep from smiling, stop from squirming in her excitement, but Harry wouldn't have it any other way. She was his sweet girl, through and through. 

"Will you stay home with me today?" (Y/N) peeped in between a slew of sweet pecks he dotted over her mouth, sipping on her taste, "I-I don't want you to leave when we just figured all this out, H." 

"Give me one more kiss, then I need to make a phone call and tell someone 'm sick." The way (Y/N) smiled into their one last kiss had him running through what kind of faux-illness he could use to buy him a long weekend with her. 

It was only made that much better when he heard her giggling laughter as he left the kitchen in search for his phone. Her scent bloomed around the house, imprinting her deep enough he hoped she'd never leave. 

—————

"That's the same thing y'told me last week, and I really did take the day off, remember?" he told her, walking them back to the kitchen counter where his abandoned mug of coffee sat in wait after he was distracted, "Don't think I can get away with that again, sweetheart." 

A quiet humph sounded from where she was huddled in his neck as he settled her on the ledge of the kitchen counter. Despite the stable surface now under her bottom, she didn't bother to unravel herself from around Harry's form, thighs still cinched around his hips and arms looped around his neck. 

"Can you work from home, then?" 

"I wish, but I don't have any of m'things with me. And, I've got to be at a meeting today with some of our new clients." Harry dropped a kiss to her shoulder once he saw them deflate at all the reasons he couldn't stay him and lie in with her, no matter how much he wanted to. 

"Fine," she relented, peeling herself away from his neck only enough to get a look at his face. 

Just as he expected, even though she was giving up on her fight, her features were still molded into the sad puppy look she had begun to realize was something he had a hard time resisting. 

"Don't look so sad, darling," he cooed to her, ducking his head to press a kiss to the tip of he nose, "I'll be home soon, 'kay? Y'can even call me on my lunch if y'really miss me that much." 

"We just had so much fun this weekend, I don't want it to be over already," she told him, canting her head to the side as she gazed up at him. 

"We did, didn't we?" he smiled at her, thinking abut their weekend full of nothing but lounging around in bed and going out to eat when (Y/N) got too antsy in the house and wanted to dress up. "I promise we'll do it all again this weekend, pretty girl. Jus' need to get through work first, right?" 

"Okay," she sighed, "Maybe we can go to the aquarium this weekend?" 

Harry's smile winded at her words, dimples deep in his cheeks. "We can definitely do that, sweetheart. I'll buy the tickets today, alright?" 

She brightened some at his promise, giving him the smile he was missing since she decided to be his pouty girl. "Thank you, H." 

His arms around her waist tightened at her quiet gratitude. There was nothing he loved more than making her happy. With his grip, he pulled her just to the edge of the kitchen counter as her body relaxed, legs now dangling on either side of his with her arms a loose loop around his neck. 

"Now, give me a kiss before I go. 'M already going to be running late," Harry requested, dipping his head down with a nudge to her nose with his own. 

(Y/N) complied with no convincing, happily pressing her lips to his. Her kiss tasted like the fruit he cubed up for her for breakfast, warding off the bitter afternotes of the coffee he barely had time to brush from his teeth before (Y/N) pounced on him with pleas to stay home. 

"Love you," he murmured against her lips, planting a small smattering of pecks across her mouth before pulling away. 

"Love you, too," she told him, bright smile on her lips, "Text me when you're on lunch so I can call you." 

"You know I will, darling," he told her, giving her one more kiss before finally stepping out from between her legs. 

(Y/N) hopped off the counter and followed him for the send off, the length his button down swaying over her thighs as she followed him. As much as he hated to leave her, the idea of her waiting at his home for him, dressed in his clothes and full of love for him made his heart race. He'd never had someone to come home to like this, even if they weren't officially moved in together yet. That thought made the days a little easier to get through. 

With one more blown kiss in her direction and a wave before he pulled off, Harry tried his best to start his day despite the fact he was leaving his heart behind.

—————

(Y/N) was bored. 

Harry's house wasn't that fun when he wasn't there with her, she decided. She went through and finished up the laundry they started the day before and changed the sheets out on his bed, and even made sure she had all of her toiletries packed up in her bag so she could go home after dinner tonight, but that only filled a few hours before she was lounging on his couch watching a reality dating show she couldn't believe really found love for these people. Her only saving grace was the fact that the lunch hour was approaching. 

Despite the fact she had already promised to call him during the break this morning, these lonesome hours allowed her to think up an idea that sounded much more fun the longer she laid  out on his couch. 

She was going to go see him. 

She was going to pick up some lunch on the way there, and actually go see him for the first time at his big office. Planning her outfit took all of twenty minutes as she refused to take off his shirt, deciding to pair it with a pair of jeans that Harry had told her made her butt look good and the pearled headband she wore on their first date. It was a fun distraction, getting ready, as she primped her hair and did her skincare routine—forgoing makeup for the day—before placing a pickup order at Harry's favorite little diner he takes her to when she's hungry in the middle of the night. She couldn't wait to surprise him. 

The drive to the diner was a familiar one, a quick stop that had her bubbling with excitement as she double checked the order of Harry's favorite meal and all his fixings (he loved this melt they had, the ingredients basically making up a grilled cheese until Harry added all of these bits and extras that elevated it to a 'melt' instead). As soon as she had today's lunch packed away in the passenger seat, (Y/N) put the address of Harry's office building into her GPS. A canopy of butterflies made their way through her tummy as her ETA approached with every mile she drove to his office. She'd never been before, and the fact that Harry wasn't expecting her added another layer to her bubbling nerves. Hopefully, she could find the place—and his office—easily so she couldn't have to ruin the surprise with a call asking him for directions. 

Once the towering building came into view, (Y/N) realized just how many times she'd passed it on the way to her labs for her required science class her first year of university. The glossy windows shone in the sun's rays, gleaming almost as brightly as the blocky lettering that detailed the company name over the top floor of the structure. She knew his job was important, that he made a good living and met high-profile people, but she never figured it was this important. If she was being honest, what she had pictured was a building in a business plaza with a few floors to spare for the different departments, Harry's office settled on the highest one (at max, the fifth floor). Looking at the scale of his job, she now felt a little guilty for convincing him to call in the previous week. (That didn't mean she wasn't planning on doing it again, though). 

With their lunches in hand, the plastic bag hanging off her wrist as she locked her car, (Y/N) craned her neck to gaze up the height of the building. If Harry was important as she figured he would be—should be—, he was at the top behind one of those glossy windows. He probably had a killer view. 

Going through the glass doors, (Y/N) saw a luxurious waiting room complete with a receptionist smiling behind a glass desk and a shiny set of elevators pinging behind her as people came and went. It was definitely the lunch hour if the amount of suited people sifting through the lobby with lunch pails and takeaway containers to some of the fancier restaurants nearby was anything to go by. 

"Hello," the receptionist greeted her, a bright smile on her face as that could rival the gleaming plate on her desk that detailed her name to be Seline. "Are you here to drop off a lunch delivery?" 

Glancing down at her casual look and a bag of food at her side, (Y/N) couldn't blame her for thinking she was just here to drop off some executive's food order. The one day she doesn't feel like getting all dressed up to see him.

"Oh, no," she laughed, carefully approaching the desk so she didn't make any scoffs with the worn soles of her shoes, "I'm actually here to see Harry Styles? I think he's supposed to be on his lunch break right now, so I was hoping I could eat with him if you wouldn't mind telling me where I can find his office." 

"Oh," Seline chirped with a raise of her brows, glancing down at the desktop Mac stationed on the surface of her glass desk, "I see. And may I ask for your name?" 

"Right, sorry, I'm (Y/N). His girlfriend." (Y/N) hated the way her answer felt like a question with the way her tone tilted upwards at the end. She was beginning to feel so out of place in this building, she even doubted her own name.

"His girlfriend?" Seline deadpanned, her eyes flicking from her screen to fix on (Y/N). Though she still held a pleasant expression on her face, there was something vacant entering her smile, like she wasn't entirely sure what to do about this situation. 

"Yeah," she affirmed with a jerky nod, her hair fluttering behind the hold of the headband crowing her head, "It's kind of a surprise, so..." 

(Y/N) cringed as she trailed off, wishing she had thought through her statement before she opened her mouth. 

"Oh, okay," Seline smiled, the edges turning down some as she tapped away at her keyboard. After pressing definitively on the enter key, the receptionist looked up with an apology in her eyes, "Unfortunately, I'm not able to let anyone up to see any of the executives unless I have express permission from them or an appointment on their schedule. But, I can take a message for you and let him know you stopped by?" 

A kind of anxiety (Y/N) hadn't felt since her first day of college swept through her system. She was sure Seline was doing her job, following policies in place that made the most of Harry and his colleagues' time, but (Y/N) had never felt more stupid or out of place in her life. Another set of employees dressed in suits and skirts, everything creaseless with precise pleats and expensive shoes that clacked over the tiled floor made their way out of the elevator, making (Y/N) feel that much more out of place with the holes in her jeans and the wrinkles in her borrowed shirt. She hadn't even bothered to brush her hair before she left. 

The bag of food at her side crinkled as she shifted, grabbing for her phone from her pocket. "Um, could I actually give him a call, really quick? I-I'm sure he'll let me up, I just didn't know he needed to let you know." 

"Of course, take your time," Seline offered, dropping her skeptical gaze to (Y/N)'s flowery cased phone, "As soon as I have his permission come through my system, I can buzz the elevator for you." 

Peeping out a thank you, (Y/N) scurried off to one of the white leather seats that decorated the waiting area. She was sure no one was paying her any mind as she fiddled with her phone, getting frustrated when her Face I.D. wasn't accepted with the way her hands were shaking, but she swore every person that passed through the waiting area—especially Seline—had their eyes glued to the silly girl that was trying to bypass protocol to see her 'boyfriend'. 

By the time she had the phone pressed to her ear with Harry's contact pulled up, (Y/N) worried she was going to scream if the plastic bag with their food crinkled one more time in the quiet lobby. 

"Sweetheart, I was jus' about to text you," Harry greeted her, his voice offering a flood of relief. 

"Harry, hi—uh—I'm at your office." She cringed as the words left her mouth, knowing Seline could definitely hear the way she wobbled through her words. "But—um—I'm not allowed up until you say its okay." 

"You are? Sweetheart, I'm so sorry, I didn't know y'were coming," Harry prattled off after a beat, the sound of a keyboard tapping in the background. 

"It's okay, I was trying to surprise you with lunch and everything," she murmured, feeling silly now in her plan. Of course she wasn't going to be escorted to someone's corporate office without some kind of permission or appointment. At least they were getting it figured out. 

"Oh, pretty girl," Harry cooed through the phone, his smile evident in his tone, "That's so sweet of you. I can't wait to see you." He paused for a moment before she heard a ping on the line. "Alright, I sent my access code down to Seline, she'll buzz y'right up, yeah? Once you're on m'floor, just need to take a right to Shelly's desk and you'll need to tell her your name but she'll let you in right away." 

"Thank you, H," she sighed as her shoulders sagged in relief. With a proper plan in place, (Y/N) could breathe. "Love you." 

"Love you too, gorgeous. I'll see you in a minute." 

After hanging up, Seline waved her over as soon as (Y/N) stowed her phone in her pocket. "Mr. Styles' permission just came through!" she beamed at her, "I'm so sorry about that confusion, Ms. (Y/N). Mr. Styles just didn't let me know he was expecting anyone and you look so young, I was worried a daughter of one of his clients got a little too attached over a client dinner or something." Seline laughed as if she had told (Y/N) one of her funniest jokes as she clicked away at her keyboard, the up arrow above one of the elevators lighting up as she pressed enter. Swiping a keycard from a drawer on her desk, Seline handed it out with a polite smile on her face. "Scan this at the elevator, and go to floor twenty. Have a nice lunch, Ms. (Y/N)." 

(Y/N) swallowed as she took the keycard, reciprocating the polite smile the receptionist gave her though (Y/N) could bet her own was nothing more than a shaky imitation. She worked robotically as she followed the directions she was given, the keycard taking a moment to scan as she couldn't steady her hand. 

She looked so young that Seline worried she was a daughter of one of Harry's clients coming to stalk him? Alone in the elevator with her distorted reflecting staring back at her in the mirrored panels that slated the walls, (Y/N) didn't know what to think. Of course it was never a secret that there was a lengthy gap in age between she and H—the very reason he had waited so long in becoming close to her—but never had that fact been so blatantly presented to her. 

Sure, (Y/N) didn't do herself any favors with her makeup-less face and rumpled outfit, but she didn't think she particularly looked like someone's teen daughter who sought after a man of her father's demographic. Shaking off the comment, she tried to remind herself of the relief of finally getting out of that lobby and getting closer and closer to her Harry—her comfort zone. All she had to do was talk to Shelly, and she was in. No more crinkling plastic bag or scuffs of her shoes over the expensive tile. 

Once the elevator dinged, the number twenty illuminated over the door, (Y/N) let out a breath. This floor held the same ambiance as the waiting room she'd just left—clean lines, light colors, and glass fixtures everywhere. Office doors with titles and names lined the length of the hall. Each sprawling end was serrated by the lobby area that almost perfectly emulated the one below, only smaller. 

The same glass desk as Seline's was stationed in the middle of the lobby, the main fixture in the area with the gleaming iMac and tall vase of neutral flowers on the edge. A desk plate inscribed with Shelly across the brass shone in the sunlight seeping through the windows. But, there was no Shelly to be seen. 

Peering down the hall, (Y/N) spotted what looked like it could be the office to the Chief Officer of Brand Relationships, or his better known name: Harry Styles. Without Shelly there, and her safe haven within her sights, (Y/N) figured she'd just toe her way down the hall and get to his office by herself. Just as she moved to bypass the glass desk, the sound of heels tapping over the elaborately titled floors sounded from the hall behind her. 

Looking over her shoulder, (Y/N) paused when she realized who was clicking over the floor. 

"Hello, sorry about that I was—" Shelly cut herself off, her brows furrowing once she was close enough to realize who was standing in her lobby, "(Y/N)?" 

"Hi, Shelly," (Y/N) awkwardly greeted her, taking in her classmate from the Business English course she took before (Y/N) realized she would rather die than have anything to do with writing business polices and handbook guides. She'd never seen Shelly so dressed up, used to her curls being tied into a poof on the top of her head with baggy sweatsuits covering her form. Here, she was clad in a smart skirt with the matching top tucked in, complete with the resounding heels that clacked over the floor, hair in defined and shiny ringlets. (Y/N) swallowed before she spoke again, "I didn't know you worked here." 

"Oh yeah," Shelly waved off, a pinch remaining in her brow, "this is where I do my internship hours." 

When she paused, this is what (Y/N) had been scared of. She and Shelly certainly weren't close enough to maintain a bubbling conversation with anything other than surface level small talk before settling into a static silence. 

"That's nice," (Y/N) smiled, forcing herself to keep from grabbing for her phone out of habit at the feel of the awkward air, "How do you like it?" 

Shelly gave her a generic smile, one she most likely trained herself for with this job. "It's really nice, thanks for asking. Super nice place, and the food is awesome around here so there's always fun lunch breaks to be had." They both broke out into polite laughs, (Y/N) trying to ease herself when she saw Shelly's eyes drop to the plastic bag at her side. "Are you here dropping off food for someone?" 

Round two begins. 

"Oh no," (Y/N) shook her head, schooling her features as best she could, "I'm here to see—um—Harry Styles, actually. He said he sent a permi—"

"You're Mr. Styles' girlfriend?" 

(Y/N) nervously began to pluck at the buttons of her top with her restless fingers. Though her smile was beginning to waver, she kept up her polite facade. "That's me," she chirped with a shrug, faux-nonchalance greasing her joints.

"Oh," Shelly sounded, eyes wide with brows raised as she rounded the side of her desk. In seconds her gaze was flitting over her computer screen, incredulous look still pasted to her face by the time she finally looked up at (Y/N) again. "You're the one that talked to Seline downstairs?" 

"Yeah," (Y/N) replied simply, unsure of where else to go with a question like that. 

Shelly hummed, leaning down and typing out something on the keyboard before she stood to the full of her height and gave her attention to (Y/N), though she wished she could give it back. "You're having lunch with him today?" 

"Yeah," she parroted, the bag at her side crinkling at the worst time, "I called him when I was downstairs, so he should know I'm here and everything already." 

"Right," Shelly laughed, shaking her head with a fluff to her curls as she seemingly remembered where she was, "Sorry about that. I got Seline's message that Mr. Styles' girlfriend was here to see him, you're just not what I was expecting." She rounded her desk once more with a pleasant smile, heels clacking.

Gesturing for (Y/N) to follow her with a quiet right this way, Shelly started her down the same hallway (Y/N) had seen Harry's nameplate. As much as she had wanted to scurry away and hide in Harry's office before, (Y/N) dragged her feet during the trek. Maybe she was nothing but a glutton for punishment, unable to let the draining weeds growing in her head go unfed, but she couldn't help herself before the next question left her lips. 

"What do you mean?"

"Hm?" Shelly hummed, falling back to walk in line with (Y/N). 

"Just—I mean..." (Y/N) stuttered, cringing at herself for stumbling so hard over her words in the quiet hallway. "Um, what were you expecting when you heard his girlfriend was coming?" 

"Oh," Shelly chirped, slowing even further as she directed her gaze to the ceiling with a pucker to her lips as she thought. "No one specific, really. I don't know, I figured it would be some kind of executive lady, or something. Oh, wait! Do you remember Prof Frances?" 

(Y/N) stopped herself from taking in the deep breath that ached to be a sigh at the mention of one of the teachers that was well known across campus. She was a super beautiful woman, someone that people were known to take her class for with only the intention of staring at her and trying their hand at flirting with her during office hours. She was a kind woman, reserved and quiet when not up front lecturing, but held the kind of confidence that only came with age and loving the body you were in and the person you were. She was grown. Of course, Shelly would picture someone like that for Harry. 

Cool, confident, and sure of herself. Her beauty was only a plus and her age was much more well matched for Shelly's Mr. Styles. 

"I remember her." 

"I guess I pictured someone like her then," Shelly bubbled off, shrugging her shoulders as they came to a stop by Harry's door, "All tall and dark and everything. I definitely wasn't expecting one of my classmates." 

(Y/N) gave a polite laugh to Shelly's attempt at a joke. She felt entirely too stiff in the lungs and tight in her tummy to think of anything sunny at the the moment. 

"It was really nice to see you, though," Shelly chirped, eyes bright as she turned, "Let me know when you're planning on coming by next time, and I can tell Seline so she can have the keycard and everything waiting for you." 

Getting out a weak thanks, (Y/N) watched as Shelly knocked on Harry's office door before cracking it open enough to stick her head through and let him know his guest was here. The sound of Harry's deep voice sounding through his office, though muffled by the time it reached (Y/N)'s ears, did enough to soothe her anxieties before she was ushered over the threshold with Shelly shutting the door behind her. 

"Hi, sweetheart," Harry smiled at her, rising from his spot behind his desk with open arms, "'M so happy to see you, c'mere." 

It was instinct the way she moved across the office, dropping the bag of food into one of the chairs opposing his desk with her bag and keys. (Y/N) smushed her face against his chest as soon as she was close enough, looping her arms around his middle while Harry's became a cradle around her shoulders. 

"Hi," she peeped against his chest, eyes falling closed. 

"My pretty girl," he hummed as he dropped a kiss to the top of her head. "Best surprise ever, you know that?" 

"Good," she tried to laugh, urging her lungs to relax, "I was starting to worry that I wasn't supposed to be here." 

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, unpeeling himself from around her. Shifting his grip, he laced a hand through hers while he reached for the bag of food on his desk, a smile appearing on his face when he noticed the restaurant name on the plastic. 

Flashing back to the tight air that filtered through the lobby downstairs and the unexpected run-in with a classmate, (Y/N) only shrugged. Fanning her gaze across his office, she followed after him as he took her to the comfortable pair of chairs stationed by the floor to ceiling window that plated one side of his office. The perfect spot to schmooze clients and lunch with other executives. 

"It's just really fancy here, and all," (Y/N) settled on as she sunk into the plush leather of the chair. 

A huffed laugh left Harry's lips as he doled out the contents of the bag, packets of silverware and napkins being shared on the sidetable planted between the chairs. "Yeah, a little, isn't it? Definitely not what it used to be when I started working here." 

(Y/N) only nodded as he spoke, a small smile on her face. She wanted to be here with Harry, talking about his work, seeing his excitement when he realized what she picked up for him, or just allowing the fact she was spending time with him to wash over her. She wanted all of that, but each time she felt herself relax, a moment of Seline's quickly concealed judgement or Shelly's bordering-on-disrespectful surprise flashed through her memory. 

Should she even be here right now? 

"Pretty girl, y'got me my melt!" Harry chirped with a bright smile, bringing her attention back to the moment where an unopened takeaway box sat on her lap. 

A genuine curve of her lips molded her features. This was what she had been looking forward to when she thought up her plan. "And, I even made sure they put all that gross stuff you like on there." 

Harry scoffed and made a face as he reached for a pack of cutlery. "'S not gross to have mushrooms on a melt, love. At least 'm not dipping it in ketchup or something worse." 

With a pointed glance in her direction, Harry waited for the explosion she was going to give him. 

"Harry Styles, that was one time, and I was drunk. It's not fair to keep bringing that up!" 

The bright smile on his face was reward enough for all the trouble she'd gone through to make it to his office. "'S jus' shocking, that's all," Harry pressed, his curls falling over his forehead as he shook his head, "As a self-proclaimed grilled cheese purist, I expected a little better out of you." 

Rolling her eyes, (Y/N) cracked open her own box. From the corner of her eye, she could see Harry digging into his lunch, spinach leaves and avocado smears edging out the back of the sandwich. 

"You know," he started, swallowing down his bite while (Y/N) twirled her side of macaroni on her fork, "y'should be happy that's the most embarrassing thing you've done around me while drunk. By the time I was your age, I had friends who had to babysit me at parties after this one time I tried to eat some girl's cigarette. I only have photos to prove that even happened, though because I don't remember a second of it." 

Normally, (Y/N) would have been enamored at the mention of what Harry was like when he was university aged like her. But, today the phrase of when I was your age, struck a cord in her. 

There hadn't been too much thought in her head about their age gap when she met Harry. The only time she had really thought about it was when Harry brought it up, telling her that he hadn't wanted to pursue her sooner in hopes of avoiding making her uncomfortable. When he had told her that, she remembered the way she canted her head to the side with a furrow in her brow; the fact he was thirty (or close to, when they met) hadn't been something that sounded all that bad to her. If he had showed her any kind of interest earlier, (Y/N) wouldn't have given it a single thought before trying to subtly flirt her way into his life. 

Today had been the first time she really had to confront their age gap in a way that didn't make her feel protected and warm. 

Sure, she could understand a moment's hesitation. They weren't a traditional coupling, and that was fine, but hearing more than once that she was not what others had expected to be Harry's girlfriend got under her skin. The mention of a previous professor just about sealed the deal for (Y/N). 

Of course, someone his age would be able to bond over the same things they grew up with, the same formative years and pop culture references. Of course, he would be better matched to someone with the same level of maturity who was on the same chapter of their life. 

"What's got y'thinking so hard over there, sweetheart? Making me nervous y'jus' remembered y'left the stove on or something." Harry's joking brought her back to the present, the bright open space of his office greeting her from where she emerged in the back of her head. 

(Y/N) shook her head, "Nothing. I was watching Love Island before I left, and those people are so weird sometimes." As expected Harry's smile turned crooked at the mention of the television show she had managed to get him sucked into on more than one occasion. 

"Yeah? What happened this time?" 

"Too much, I'll have to show you later," (Y/N) brushed off. She could barely remember half of the contestants' names right now, let alone recall any specific scene of the episode she watched today. She had much bigger things on her mind. "Can I ask you something, H?" 

The responding hum he gave her was enough to have (Y/N) pushing at the fries littering her takeaway box as she tried to construct her question. 

"Have you... You've told people about us, right?" 

Harry nodded his head as he plucked a dangling piece of spinach off his melt. "Yeah, I've mentioned y'to my colleagues and all and talked about you at a couple of events and everything. Why?" 

Urging herself to be nonchalant, (Y/N) tried her best despite the robotic motion of her shoulders as she shrugged. "Both of the people I talked to—the receptionists—seemed really surprised to see me." 

"I mean, y'surprised even me, sweetheart," Harry laughed, smiling around the French fry he tossed in his mouth. 

"I know. I guess, it was like they were surprised to see me. Like, they couldn't believe that I was your girlfriend." (Y/N) zipped her lips before she could manage to spill any more of what was running through her head while she had been pinned under the microscope of his employee's gazes. 

 A furrow pinched at his brow as he wiped at his mouth. "I don't really show pictures of you, or anything since 's no one's business," Harry paused as he spoke, "But, I can start doing that if y'want? Was thinking about putting a picture of you on m'desk anyway, so we can start there." 

While the mention of being a fixture on Harry's work desk was a sweet sentiment, that wasn't exactly what she had been shooting for. She didn't know how to tell him about what had happened out in the waiting areas, not wanting to cause any problems or drama, and Harry didn't seem to understand what she was hinting at. She could always bring it up later, once he was out of his work clothes and (Y/N) wasn't feeling so raw from the experience. 

With that thought, (Y/N) brushed off the memories and sunk herself into the leather of her chair. 

"You'd put me on your desk?" she smiled at him, trying not to picture what Seline or Shelly would do if they saw a photograph of Mr. Styles with his co-ed girlfriend in his office. 

"Course," Harry cemented, a sweet smile on his features, "It'd be a whole lot easier than unlocking m'phone every five minutes to see your picture." 

Though there was a dark corner in the back of her mind that couldn't even begin to prune the poisonous weeds growing there, (Y/N) did her best to accept Harry's sweetness as it was. 

He loved her and she loved him back just as much, that was all that mattered. 

—————

By the time (Y/N) made it back to Harry's house, she couldn't think of another time she had been this exhausted. 

Lunch with him was perfect after she managed to banish those inflammatory feelings from her mind, but it was the trek back downstairs when his lunch hour was up that wrung her out. Shelly was behind her desk when (Y/N) left Harry's office, giving her a polite smile and see you later  pinged in (Y/N)'s head knowing that the next time she would see the receptionist would be on her college campus. Seline was just as polite, but still vacant as she flicked her gaze to (Y/N)'s shoes that squeaked over the tile on accident. 

It was nothing they said, but the way they looked at her that had (Y/N) fidgeting on the drive back. Shelly could be a bit of a gossip from what (Y/N) could remember back when they shared a class, and it wouldn't surprise her to find out that the ding she heard from Seline's computer was a message from Shelly dishing about Mr. Styles' girlfriend. 

(Y/N) was an overthinker and she knew that. The stupidest things in class could have her up at night analyzing every moment in fear she said the wrong thing or wasn't nice enough in a single moment. Everything with Andrew and Iris that happened forever ago had made her lose many weeks of sleep trying to figure out where she had gone wrong to cause either of them to treat her so poorly. When she and Harry started getting closer, she remembered the nights she would lay with her eyes on the ceiling trying to figure out if the way he said 'just friends' really meant they were only friends or if she should put more stock in the way he held her to his side and clung to her hand as he walked her home. She spun herself out on more than one occasion, and it appeared her power was needed once more. 

Stepping over the threshold to his house, (Y/N) was washed over with Harry's scent. Though the hallmarks of the typical comfort she felt walking into his space remained, she still had that lingering feeling of being out of place. Just like she had at his office. 

She kept her shoes on as she trekked through the space, forgoing the usual ritual of shucking them off before placing them beside Harry's own collection by the door. Her bag hung limply in her hand as he walked down the hall. She felt ready to bolt at a moment's notice like a spooked animal. 

Though he was partial to hanging art pieces through his home, Harry still had his fair share of personal photos pasted to the walls. A panel dedicated to his family and friends stole (Y/N)'s attention as she approached his room, eyes grazing the pictures. Many were with the friend group she was now apart of, majority with Harry's closest friends of the bunch, Mitch and Sarah. She could see holidays and getaways spent with his people; tan as he vacationed with Mitch and Tom and Jeff in Jamaica, and bundled up with a cap covering his curls while spending time in Japan. 

Trailing her eyes through the photographs, Harry's smile seemed to show the brightest in pictures with his family. More often than not, his mother and sister were tucked underneath his arms, matching smiles on their faces as they gazed into the lens. The trio of them all looked so similar; dark hair and pretty eyes, dimples and high cheekbones. 

(Y/N) wondered if his mom smiled like that when Harry told her about his girlfriend. When he told her that his girlfriend was still in university and had to have Harry order for her when they went out because she was too anxious to do it herself. Did those dimples still crater her cheeks when Harry detailed out how his girlfriend's ID was still skeptically looked at by bouncers and bartenders, a handful of them even blatantly asking if it was a fake or giving Harry a dirty look for corralling some young girl out to the bars with him. (Y/N) wondered how his sister reacted the first time she saw a photo of them on instagram, and even moreso when she had inevitably perused (Y/N)'s page after and found teenaged photos that weren't that far down the feed. 

Did either of them look the way Seline had? Did they share that same shocked surprise that Shelly had written all over her face?

Shaking her head, (Y/N) willed herself to go to his room, tearing her gaze from the wall of photos that she was only using to hurt her own feelings. Those weeds of doubt that had sprouted back at Harry's office had vined around her mind and taken her hostage with no escape route in place. 

(Y/N) knew in her heart that Harry was her perfect match; she could trust herself on that decision. No one had loved or cared for her the way he did. No one she had ever known texted her in the middle of the day just because they saw a bundle of clouds that looked like this little plush dog (Y/N) had loved as a kid. No one called her first thing in the morning with the express purpose of leaving her a voicemail to wake up to. 

She knew that Harry was her perfect match, but maybe she wasn't his. 

Was she holding him back? There could be someone out there that could actually relate to him when he brought up some toy he had as a kid that was discontinued before (Y/N) was even born. Someone who could afford to treat him to more than a cup of coffee or lunch at a greasy diner. There could be someone who could fit him better, but he was too busy entertaining her to find them.

Sinking into the edge of his mattress, (Y/N) hung her head in her hands with her elbows digging into her thighs. She knew she needed to stop herself right now, right where she was in her never-ending process of negativity. She wasn't being rational. 

Harry loved her and he wouldn't waste his time on someone the didn't believe was worth it. And, (Y/N) knew she loved him just as much, if not more than he did her. Spiraling over all of this wasn't helpful to anyone, especially when she knew there was no reason to doubt her gut or her place in Harry's life. 

But, that insecurity that rooted itself in her brain and guilt that had flooded in along with it wasn't that easy to boot. 

Pulling her head from her hands, she looked to the mess of her stuff she had made by his closet door, duffle bag left open with her clothes spilling out from all sides. (Y/N) sighed as she stood up, reaching down to clean up the mess she left on his floor after rifling through for her outfit for the day. In a pang of bitterness, she couldn't help but knock herself down with the thought that Prof Frances would never leave a mess like this at Harry's house. She was too mature, and put together to leave her charging cable laying along the floor with extra underwear hanging out of the side pocket to her bag. 

Taking a deep breath, (Y/N) shoved her things harder into her bag, wrinkling and mushing her clothes into a lump of fabric. She was mad at herself for getting so hung up over this all; it wasn't even bad what was said today! Sure it was a bit annoying to be compared to a teenager and told that her old professor would be a more predictable fit for Harry, but no one was out to hurt her feelings—it had only been herself knocking her down. Slumping back on her heels before her bag, (Y/N) wondered if she might have better luck of shaking this feeling if she just went home. 

There, she could shower using her fancy body scrub that was too hard to transport for sleepovers at Harry's, use her sweet-smelling shampoo and even do a face mask and wipe away everything that had bothered her today. At home she could lick her wounds and be a better partner to Harry when she wasn't so raw and down on herself. While she thought she hid it pretty well over lunch how upset she was, she knew it wasn't fair to Harry to wait for him to come home after a long day and pretend she was in the best of moods. 

With a sigh, brows pinched at the middle, (Y/N) hooked her overnight bag over her shoulder before reaching for her phone. She had her eyes placed on her phone as she left his room, making a point to bypass the wall of family photos without a glance. 

     hey h I think Im gonna go home:( im not feeling super good and really want to shower at my place and sleep some before class tomorrow. ill bring your shirt back after I wash it and everything. sorry :(

Her hands shook as he pressed send before locking his front door behind her. Locking her phone, (Y/N) made her way to her car with a pit in her tummy. It didn't feel good to lie to Harry, especially when it was a lie that would keep her from spending time with him. She didn't even want to see the inevitable sweet text he would send back, most likely offering to drop off soup or come by for a cuddle if she needed someone to help take care of her. In the long run, though, she knew this time apart would be good for them. 

That's why even when Harry texted her back with with a sad face and a promise that it was alright, pretty girl, she couldn't waver. Even when he sent her another message after he had assumed she'd fallen asleep while she was taking her time in the shower that he missed her and couldn't wait to see her later this week. He was here for her if she needed anything, he reminded her. 

Locking her phone without responding that night was the hardest thing she had to do. 

—————

Harry felt his heart ache when he stepped out of the shower, looping towel around his waist as he saw (Y/N) hadn't texted him back still. Poor thing really must not be feeling well if she conked out at seven, his little night owl. 

He hadn't been too surprised when she messaged him earlier in the day to let him know she wasn't feeling well, but it still made his shoulders drop at the prospect of her not being there when he got home. She had been a bit off during lunch, lost in her head and reluctant to eat more than a few bites before she claimed she was full from breakfast still. He was worried about her when he saw that she hadn't even been enticed by the side of macaroni and cheese she ordered for herself, the diner being one of her favorite places to have it. If not for the fact she told him she wanted to get some sleep in so she could be well enough for class tomorrow, Harry would have insisted in going to her place after he got off work. But, he knew that if he stopped by, she would do what she always did and try to stay awake as long as possible with him. 

If she wasn't well enough by Wednesday when they had plans to see one another, he wouldn't take no for an answer to bring her some soup or coddle her through her bug, like she had declined tonight instead for sleep. 

Settling into bed, Harry was wrapped in (Y/N)'s scent that puffed through his comforter as he fluffed it around himself. When he closed his eyes, it was like she was still with him. 

After setting his alarm early enough he had time to call (Y/N) and leave a good morning voicemail and make his cup of coffee before heading to work, Harry filled his head with all the love and affection he wished he could be giving to (Y/N) in that moment. Hopefully she would feel some of it and know he was thinking about her, and could help her feel somewhat better.

Harry hoped she was thinking about him, too.

—————

Though the threat of a day's worth of classes loomed over her head, (Y/N) woke on Wednesday morning feeling worlds better than she had even twenty-four hours prior. She had made the right choice in staying with herself for a couple of days, having all that time to spend with herself to get her head screwed on straight and talk herself down from the spiraling decline she had set herself up for. 

Tuesday had been a hard day to get through, especially as she started the day with a mention of her faux-illness in Harry's morning voicemail. That guilt she felt about holding him back, not being the right person to make him happy only increased ten-fold when she tacked on the fact she had lied to get away from him for a couple of nights. But, since she had all that time to herself she was allowed to wallow for a few hours before being sucked into real life and having to exit her head. 

The reality of it all was that it didn't matter what ran through Seline's head when she saw who her boss's girlfriend was. Same thing with Shelly; she had assumed Harry would be interested in someone like Prof Frances, but that wasn't true. Harry was interested in someone like (Y/N), and she loved him back just as much. That was all that mattered, and if anyone really had any issues, any quarrels about her age or whether or not she was an appropriate person for Harry to be in love with, didn't. She was happy with him, completely dedicated and willing to be in this relationship, and she knew he felt the same. That was all that mattered. 

By the time she'd gone to sleep on Tuesday night, (Y/N) was still happy to have this time to herself (especially since she was doing all kinds of body skincare that entailed her hands to be wrapped in serum soaked gloves and feet to be in the same situation), she missed Harry. At least this time she didn't pretend to be asleep while he was texting her. 

Wednesday morning was a piece of cake by then. The pit of anxiety that had weighed her down since Monday was finally gone, and (Y/N) couldn't have been more excited to see Harry that night. 

She just had to get through class first. 

By the time her final class of the day started—creative writing with Prof Daniels at two p.m every Wednesday and Friday—(Y/N) was excited. She actually really loved the current assignment for the class, and didn't feel even a tint of exhaustion at the idea of having plans after she was done for the day. If she made enough progress on her draft today, she might even be able to share what she had done with Harry and see what he thought. 

After Mr. Daniels made his introduction for the day, reminding the class of the first draft's due date and what themes are meant to be focused on for this assignment, he retired to his office for the hour leaving everyone to independently work and make progress on their drafts. A few of her classmates left once their professor went to his office, getting the attendance grade before going off to do whatever else they wanted for the day, but (Y/N) stayed planted in her spot, headphones in her ears.

Wanting to start off on the right foot when this project was announced, (Y/N) had outlined the general flow of the piece with each of the required themes weaved throughout, making this entire process much easier than she had in the past. (Y/N) had found her groove moments later, typing away at her laptop with quick glances back and forth at her handwritten outline. Much of the class had emptied out for the hour when she bothered to take a look around, but she didn't mind being one of the few that took advantage of this allotted time to finish her work. Besides, she didn't want to go home and forget what time it was while she was working only to have Harry come in to see her still in her sweats when she had something a little bit prettier planned to greet him with. 

When (Y/N) had just made it through the first section of her piece, out of the corner of her eye she noticed someone settling in the seat beside her. A quick glance showed it was one of the girls in her class that she often peer reviewed with, Isla. She was someone (Y/N) had met through Iris but wasn't all that close to either of them, which (Y/N) was thankful for after everything that had happened; she was nice during peer reviews and gave honest feedback, and (Y/N) would have hated having to find someone else in the class if she insisted on being loyal to Iris. 

Isla's body was positioned in her seat to face (Y/N), knees pointed toward her with a smile on her face. Her laptop was still stationed at the typical desk she occupied, so (Y/N) figured she wasn't switching her seating situation. Plucking a headphone out of her ear, (Y/N) paused her music. 

"Hey," she greeted Isla, voice quiet despite the fact almost all of her remaining classmates had their own headphones on and music playing, "What's up?" 

"Hey, (Y/N)," Isla smiled at her, quickly glancing at her phone that was lit up in her lap, "I'm so sorry to bother you, I know we're supposed to be working on our stories." 

"Its okay," (Y/N) brushed off, giving her attention to Isla despite the blinking cursor on her screen that urged her to keep going, "Did you need help with something?" 

Isla shook her head, red curls fluttering around her face, "Oh no, this is actually super weird. But, my roommate told me something that didn't sound right, but I wanted to ask you if it was true." 

A furrow pinched at (Y/N)'s brow as she listened. Couldn't Isla have just googled this? 

"Okay," she started, "I don't know if I'll know the answer, but I'll try." 

Releasing her bottom lip that had gone trapped between her teeth, Isla grabbed for her phone in her lap one more time. "You know Shelly Blake, right?" 

At the mention of Shelly's name, (Y/N) felt all the color drain from her face. Nonetheless, she gave Isla a small nod, rolling her lips between her teeth. She knew where this was going.

"Well, my roommate had brunch with her this morning, I guess, and Shelly said that you're dating her boss," Isla babbled, not being nearly as quiet as (Y/N) wanted, "But I told Kerry—my roommate—that I don't think that's true because I think Shelly's boss is, like, thirty or something. But, Shelly says that you, like, went to her office and went and saw him and all, but, I don't know, I don't believe it. I know you have a boyfriend and all, but it's not him, right?" 

(Y/N)'s mouth ran dry as soon as she heard the mention of Harry's age. Of course, that would be the point of contention as to why there was no way (Y/N) could be dating Shelly's boss. 

She didn't know what to say, but (Y/N)'s silence seemed to be enough for Isla to realize her own answer. (Y/N) worried her fingers in her lap as she tried to come up with something to say, the nourishing mask she had done on her hands the night before making a much harder task of picking at her cuticles. 

"Um, actually," (Y/N) started, feigning a smile on her features so she didn't make this interaction any more awkward by showing that she was hurt, "it is true. I've been dating him for a little while now, and I just went and visited him for lunch on Monday." 

"Oh," Isla sounded, glancing back at her phone before finally locking the device and turning it facedown, "I didn't know that. I guess I always figured the guy you post on instagram was from that tech university that's an hour away or something since I'd never seen him around." 

"Oh, no," (Y/N) shook her head, pleasant face still in place, "He's an executive at Shelly's company in the city. We just don't really hang out on campus and all, obviously." 

"And he's really, like, thirty?" 

That pit (Y/N) had been afraid of returning began to open up in her tummy again, working like a blackhole as it tried to suck her in from the inside out. "Yeah, his birthday was a couple of months ago." 

"Wow," Isla said simply, brows raising over her eyes, "I had no idea. I didn't even know you liked older guys. Or, that there were any actually cute ones around here that were willing to date college girls." 

Just as (Y/N) was about to explain that while his age was something she found attractive, she wasn't necessarily into 'older guys', she was into Harry, Isla cut her off with a bubbling gasp that fed into a set of laughter. 

"You didn't meet him on one of those sugar daddy sites, did you? Because I've always wondered if they worked, and if you did meet him on one you need to tell me which one because I need to try."

While she knew Isla was only trying to play around, (Y/N) didn't know what to say and knew she wasn't hiding it that well. She was sure Shelly or Seline had the same phrase—sugar daddy—running through their head when they realized her relationship to Harry, but neither of them had said it out loud. There was nothing inherently wrong with those kinds of arrangements, especially when everyone was happy and willing, but to have her love for Harry be reduced down to a relationship based on favors and cash hurt (Y/N) more than she realized it could. She would never use Harry for his money or take advantage of the fact he had the means to take care of her in places where she couldn't. That was never something she ever considered when she met him, or that ever crossed her mind still. 

"Oh my god, (Y/N), I'm so sorry, that's not how I meant it at all," Isla rushed out as soon as she realized her mistake, her hands out between them as if she could wipe her comment out of thin air, "I just realized how that sounded, but I promise I didn't mean it like that, at all! I know he's your actual boyfriend, and its not like that at all. I was only trying to joke around, I'm sorry!" 

"It's okay, it's okay," (Y/N) said, trying to soothe the situation as best she could and hopefully get Isla's volume down before someone overheard her, "I know you were only joking, I just wasn't expecting it, that's all." 

"Are you sure?" Isla edged, features molded into an apology.

"Totally," (Y/N) pressed, "Don't worry about it, okay? It's not a big deal." The blackhole in (Y/N)'s stomach would love to beg to differ, though. 

"Okay," Isla accepted with a reluctant smile, "Its cool if I tell my roommate that its true then? About you and Shelly's boss and all?" 

In this moment, (Y/N) would rather die than have more people know about her relationship status and the opinions that went along with it, but there was no use in stopping it now. "Yeah, of course. Just let her know we didn't meet on a sugar daddy site, so I have no idea how legit those are." 

Her comment drew a laugh out of Isla's lips, finally easing her from her faux-pas. "Thanks, (Y/N). Sorry to bother you, again." 

As Isla stood from her borrowed seat, (Y/N) shook her head. "Its totally fine." 

After sharing quiet goodbyes, (Y/N) was left alone again with Isla settling in her typical post towards the front of the room. Pushing her headphones back into her ears, (Y/N) wanted to resume where she was at in her assignment, but couldn't find the spot in her brain to concentrate. Her outline no longer seemed useful with all of her previous work feeling like it was for naught now that she couldn't concentrate for the life of her. 

She knew her resolve was fragile when she made her peace with those comments she heard on Monday, but she didn't know it was this fragile. 

Not only had she been branded a teenage stalker, but she was now a sugar baby using Harry for his money—two things that had been shared with her in less than a week. The thread holding her sanity together was moments away from snapping if someone shared one more thought about her relationship. 

With another fifteen minutes left of class, (Y/N) just decided pack it up for the day. There was no way she was going to get any work done at this point, too much else on her mind to even begin to focus on her story. With her headphones in and bag slung over her shoulder, (Y/N) made her way out of the lecture hall with a wave over her shoulder to Isla. 

The cool air outside did some good for her as she tried to clear her mind, feeling a little less trapped in the pit in her stomach with so much space around her in the quad. Now that she was alone, (Y/N) felt the urge for her eyes to fill with tears she'd been holding back for days. 

She was just so frustrated, and, god, her feelings were hurt. Why she had to field questions about the validity of her relationship at all was something she didn't understand. Then to add that the three opinions she was given this week weren't the most kind of comments that have ever been shared with her, she wanted to scream with the frustration in her bones. 

Yes, Harry was older than her, and that was where she needed the conversation to stop. She didn't need to hear about how she had been mistaken for being someone's daughter that held misplaced affection for Harry. She didn't need to explain that no, they didn't meet on a dating site with the express purpose of setting up arrangements between wealthy men and girls like herself. Everything extra she had to field and explain was pushing her into that dark, weeded corner in the back of her mind. 

Making it to her car, (Y/N) didn't have the strength to hold back her tears anymore. The tint of her windows shielded the glimmer of her tears as they fell down her cheeks, tracking through the light layer of makeup she applied that morning. Her lungs squeezed as she tried to breath through her sobs the same way her fists did at her sides.

They'd only been together for a little over half a year, and just barely scratched the surface of the kind of comments (Y/N) feared they would get until she was old enough that people didn't notice the gap between them. How much longer could she do this, if she was now sobbing in her car after only a couple of days worth of off-handed comments. 

Without much forethought, (Y/N) reached for her phone and pulled up Harry's contact.  

      i think that bug i had is coming back :( I felt a little better yesterday but today's been really hard so I don't think it would be a good idea to hang out tonight h im sorry:( I don't want to get you sick:( 

She locked her phone before she could see if he was crafting his own reply back or even read the message. She needed to be alone tonight, and that was all (Y/N) let herself focus on as she drove back home.

—————

Coming out of his meeting, Harry couldn't help but let his shoulders fall as he looked at (Y/N)'s text. She still wasn't feeling well? From what she told him yesterday, she was just about good as new. 

There was no way he was going to let her get away with a third day in a row of not feeling well without stopping by or doing his part to help her feel better. 

Typing out a quick reply, Harry told her he was sad to hear she still wasn't feeling good and that he missed her immensely as he mapped out his stop to the shops before rerouting himself to her apartment after he was done with work for the day. She didn't deserve to care for herself when he was perfectly capable of at least making her some dinner and helping her get to bed. 

And, call him selfish, but Harry couldn't wait to see her again.

—————

Armed with a plastic bag containing the ingredients to his favorite chicken soup his mom used to make him when he was young, and a bouquet of flowers he hoped would brighten her day, Harry knocked on the door to (Y/N)'s apartment. That familiar shuffling sound on the other side of the door sounded through the wood as he awaited her, a grin poking at he edges of his lips at the idea of finally seeing her again for the first time since Monday. 

By the time she opened the door with a creak, Harry's smile dropped as soon as it formed. 

(Y/N)'s eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, lashes bundled together in the fresh wetness that had seeped form her tear ducts. She halfway hid behind the door, peering at him with a quiver in her lip as she avoided his gaze. 

"What are you doing here?" 

While that wasn't exactly the greeting he had been hoping for when he decided to come over, he figured he shouldn't have set his standards up so high knowing that she was feeling sick. He had just hoped she hadn't felt so ill she had to cry over it. 

"Oh, sweetheart," Harry crooned as he gazed at her, taking a careful step forward with the toe of his boot edging over the threshold, "How are y'feeling?" 

"I'm alright," she sniffled, running a heavy hand through her hair, "I thought I told you I couldn't see you tonight." 

"I know, I jus' couldn't live with myself if I didn't come help you even a little. I brought some soup for you." The flowers he had bundled against his chest tickled underneath his chin as he readied to take over her kitchen for the night. 

When she hesitated and dropped her gaze to the floor, Harry felt his gut drop. 

"I think you should go home, Harry." 

The nasal tone of her voice accompanied the wobble of her lower lip as she spoke, her eyes flooding with a new set of tears. 

Reaching out with a reluctant hand, Harry reached for her as he tried not to step through the door no matter how badly he wanted to hold her. He didn't want to overwhelm her. 

"Sweetheart, I don't mind that you're sick, 's alright. Jus' let me take care of you, you're worrying me," he pressed. Just as his hand grazed her cheek, (Y/N) took a step back from him, widening the gap between them that was beginning to feel like a trench. 

The way (Y/N) looked up at him afterwards told him she was just as surprised that she had distanced herself. Harry didn't know what was worse: (Y/N) deliberately taking a step away from him when he tried to touch her, or her moving out of the way on instinct, her subconscious keeping him from touching her? 

"Harry, I-I think I need to be alone tonight." 

"(Y/N), really. I don't mind taking care of you, you kno—" 

"I'm not sick, Harry! I just... Let me be alone." 

Harry stood stock-still, shocked by her outburst. The way she curled up on herself afterwards, recoiling form her own words, could have broken his heart if it wasn't already on its way to being shattered from her second request for him to leave. 

"You're—I thought," Harry floundered, his hand with his bouquet of flowers dropping limply to his side, "Y'told me y'haven't been feeling well since Monday." 

Another heavy hand moved its way through her hair, a tug being administered to her scalp. "I know I did, I'm sorry. I just didn't know if I could talk to you af—" 

(Y/N) was cut off by the sound of her neighbour's door opening, a blonde haired girl walking down the hall with an awkward smile stretched on her face as she realized what she had just walked into. (Y/N) reciprocated as much as she could until her neighbour disappeared down the length of the staircase, that was when her smile dropped again. 

He knew she was feeling embarrassed as she stepped off to the side, widening the berth of the door for Harry to fit through. She gestured for him to step inside, though it lacked every bit of enthusiasm that he had grown accustomed to when he visited her. With the plastic bag crinkling at his side and the bouquet of flowers rustling in the wax paper they were wrapped in, Harry stepped through the threshold of her door, her apartment almost completely silent. 

Standing by awkwardly, Harry waited as she locked her door after him and padded her way to her living room where he stood. Swallowing around the lump in his throat, Harry glanced down at the flowers in his grasp. 

"These are for you, by the way," he murmured, offering her the bundle of white magnolias. 

With her gaze attached to the flowers, Harry watched as (Y/N)'s eyes welled up with a new batch of tears. She peeped out a thank you as she pulled the arrangement from his hand, padding off to her kitchen while Harry stood in silence. 

He didn't know what she was about to tell when her neighbor interrupted them, but he almost didn't want to know. Knowing that she hadn't been ill and was using that as an excuse to avoid him was enough to have him on edge already, he didn't want to know why she had been avoiding him in the first place. 

Relenting himself to sit on her couch, sinking into the stuffed cushion, Harry sat with his chin in his hand and elbows digging into his thighs. It felt like hours as he listened to her pull a vase from her cabinet, followed by the running water for the flowers. Normally he would be there helping her, teasing her as she reached for the vase and helping her arrange the blossoms in the water so every stem could take a dip. Not today, Harry guessed, he wasn't needed.

When she finally joined him, (Y/N) took a spot on the opposing chair set up in her living room, the stiff decorative pillow taking up most of the cushion as she sat on the edge. Shifting his chin in his hand, he gazed at her through his lashes as he waited for her to finish what she started. 

As the silence stretched on, Harry felt more and more cracks appear in his heart. He couldn't take much more of this, especially when she couldn't even muster the courage to look at him. What did she need to tell him that was so bad she couldn't even look at him for a second? 

Dropping his face into his hands, Harry slid his fingers through his curls, a startling pinch being delivered to the roots as he tightened his grip. "Why didn't y'want to talk to me, (Y/N)? What happened?" he grumbled out. 

A sniffle sounded from the chair, but he didn't have the heart to look up. It would only make it harder to hear what she had to say if he had to watch her cry, too. 

"Harry, I—" (Y/N) cut herself off, her thought dropping from her tongue before she had even bothered to finish putting it together, "I don't know how to tell you." 

Something bubbled in his chest as he heard her hesitance to speak to hm still, even as he sat right in front of her. Frustration welled up in his system. How was he supposed to make anything better, fix his mistakes that led to her avoiding him, or make her at least stop crying when she wouldn't even tell him what was wrong?! How was he going to have a chance to save them from whatever had dug itself in her mind when he had no idea what he was up against?!

Forcing a deep breath into his lungs, Harry shuttered his eyes as he kept his head down in his hands. The heels of his palms dug into his eyes as he waited, giving her one last chance to say anything before he would take over. 

With the sound of his blood rushing through his ears, Harry unclenched his jaw, "Start with why y'wanted to avoid me so bad y'pretended to be sick for almost three days." 

"It's not that simple, H—" 

"Then, what happened?! What did I do wrong?! You jus' keep sitting there, crying, but y'wont tell me what I did wrong or how to fix it!" 

By that point, Harry was grateful for the fact his eyes were closed as he pulled his head from his hands, chancing a look up at (Y/N) though that view was quickly distorted by his own round of tears that flooded his vision. Sniffing his nose, Harry scrubbed his hands over his eyes to rid himself of the tears, still too frustrated to worry about them when (Y/N) still hadn't explained. 

With her fingers a nervous bundle in her lap, (Y/N) broke with her bottle lip wobbling and eyes closed as if to stave off another round of crying. "It was when I vi-visted you at work." 

Nodding his head, Harry took in deep breaths, already regretting the way he snapped at her. "Okay, thank you," he started, softening his tone as he gave her to the full of his attention, "What happened?" 

(Y/N) shook her head as she ran her hand through her hair, rolling her eyes at herself. "It wasn't even that big of a deal, so I don't know why it's bothering me so bad," she rushed out, voice wobbling, "It was just... Seline? That receptionist on the lobby floor?" 

Harry nodded his head, beginning to worry at the mention of Seline. She could be a bit cold, that much everyone at the office knew. 

"She—I don't know, it was just weird when I talked to her. I know I wasn't on your permission list or whatever since I was surprising you, but she said something after she figured out that I was there to see you that's just stuck with me." (Y/N) swallowed, her eyes still facing the ceiling as Harry waited on her, his fingers prattling with his rings. "She... She said she didn't want to let me up at first because she wasn't sure if I was a daughter of one of your clients, coming to visit Mr. Styles after getting too attached over a busy dinner." 

Rolling his lips between his teeth, Harry nodded his head. Sounded like Seline, that was for sure. 

(Y/N) finally chanced a glance down at him then, feeling somewhat more calm now that she was getting everything out that had been rattling her brain for almost three days now. 

"Then," she continued, surprising Harry as he had just began devising some kind of plan to keep Seline from being so rude to people in the waiting area,  "I didn't realize that the Shelly on your floor was someone I go to school with." Harry sighed as he figured out where this was going. "She was really surprised to see me," (Y/N) muttered, fluttering her lashes as she tried to keep her waterworks at bay, "As soon as I told her I was your girlfriend, she got kind of weird and told me she didn't expect your girlfriend to be someone like me. When I asked her what she meant, she brought up this professor that used to work at my school, that everyone thought was really pretty, and was around your age, obviously. It wasn't that bad but after what I heard from Seline, it didn't really help.

"And then, today, I guess Shelly got brunch with the roommate of a girl in my creative writing class, and they apparently talked about how I'm dating Shelly's thirty year old boss, and the girl in my class asked if I met you on a sugar daddy website." 

Now, that stung. The other two comments she shared with him hurt him for the fact it was hurting (Y/N), cheap shots taken at their relationship that questioned the depth of it just because of the gap between their ages. But this one—the implication that their relationship was nothing more than Harry giving out money and gifts in exchange for (Y/N)'s company—took a stab at his heart. 

Harry knew what a relationship would look like to others the second he took a liking to (Y/N). That was why, other than wanting to maintain (Y/N)'s happiness and comfort in her friend group, he didn't pursue her. He knew that someone of his age and position financially wasn't supposed to mix with a college-age girl that had piled on student loans and worked as much as she could on the side to help pay for school. He knew that those two things could invite people to make comments or pull faces, he knew that. But, maybe they had just been lucky with how well it was going beforehand; their friends didn't mind, never once making a comment or raising a brow at the idea of the two of them together, along with his family being so supportive when he divulged details about his (Y/N), and even strangers on the street didn't give them a second glance. They had been successfully missing any of these comments up until this point, and, of course, it was (Y/N) who had to endure them. 

If he hadn't already felt like shit for yelling at her earlier, now he felt like he should go sit on the curb with the rest of the trashbins. 

Rising from his position on the couch, Harry moved to crouch in front of (Y/N). Instinctively, she spread her legs wide enough to allow him access to sit between. Settling his hands on either of her thighs, he waited on her to return to her living room with him, leaving the dark space of her head behind. 

"(Y/N)?" he murmured, squeezing the full of her flesh in his palms, "Look at me, love." 

Running her fingertips under her eyes, (Y/N) cleared her tears away before she looked down at him, her bottom lip trembling though she tried to hold it all back. "I'm sorry, Harry." 

"Hey, hey," he crooned, shaking his head, "Don't need to be sorry, okay? Don't need to apologize for what they said." 

"B-But, I shouldn't have stopping seeing you or talking to you over it," she countered, dropping her gaze to her lap though she didn't dare lace her fingers between his like she usually did, "I just didn't know what to do. I started to feel guilty." 

"What do you mean, pretty girl? Guilty over what?" 

"Li-Like I was holding you back or something," she whispered, the volume of her voice being the only thing that kept it from breaking, "I-I don't want you to mi-miss out on someone who might fit you better. Or, at least be able to handle something like this without avoiding you." 

Harry shook his head as he stood to his feet, reaching for her hands that were bundled into a fumbling mess as she kept them from grabbing for his. Wrapping his fingers around her wrists, he pulled her to stand up before he replaced himself in her seat. The decorative pillow was crushed under his weight, becoming an uncomfortable lump under his bottom but Harry didn't pay it any mind as he pulled (Y/N) to sit in his lap. Her legs hung over the side of his own, her shoulder pressed against his chest as he looped his arms around her, interlocking his fingers as they rested on her hip. 

"You've got to listen to me, (Y/N), 'kay?" Harry waited until he got a small nod from her, eyes meeting his through the frame of her lashes. "There's no one out there that could fit me better than y'do, do you hear me? I had some extra time before I ever even met you to meet this better fit, and I've never found anyone that comes close to the way y'make me feel. There's no one out there that would love me better than y'can, and I know that. Don't feel guilty over something that doesn't exist." 

"But—" 

"No, I told y'to listen to me, didn't I?" Harry stopped her, unwilling to hear her make up fake scenarios about someone who didn't exist. "It hurts knowing that these comments made y'want to avoid me, but I understand why because I understand you. Y'weren't trying to hurt me, y'jus' wanted some time to yourself to be a little mopey and figure it all out before y'saw me again—I understand. Right?" 

"Yeah," she peeped, her cheeks heating and eyes watering as she listened to him, "I didn't mean to hurt you, Harry." 

"I know, I know," he murmured, dropping a careful kiss to her cheek, his heart eased when she didn't flinch away. "And 'm not upset now that I know, okay? Don't need to be sad over that. And, 'm sorry I yelled at you; I got scared when y'wouldn't say anything, but I shouldn't have done that. We're a team and teams don't work when one of us is being mean." The small nod and I forgive you, that (Y/N) gave him allowed for a short smile to carve into Harry's lips before he grew serious. "I jus' need y'to be honest with me for a second, then." 

A short nod came from (Y/N) as her hands unraveled, finally relieving Harry as she curled her fingers around his forearm to keep him close. 

Swallowing, Harry tried to figure the best way to phrase any of his questions. "Do you...Did any of what these people said make y'doubt being with me?"

Her answer was immediate in the shake of her head, stray strands of hair fluttering around her face, "No, no, no. I love you so much, Harry, I just want you to be happy. I don't want you to be bothered one day when you realize I'm not at the same spot as you; I don't know all of those references you make and I can't take you out for fancy dinners the way you do for me. At least not until I'm out of school." 

"I don't—... None of that matters to me, okay?" he reassured her with a squeeze of his arms around her, "I don't care about any of that. I like getting to see y'grow and learn and I never expect you to pay me back for any of the things I do for you. I don't understand all of your little jokes, either, sweetheart, and I know that doesn't bother you, because you're like me in that way. We love being with each other, and that's what makes us happiest, so that's all that matters. Right?" 

A watery smile worked its way on her lips as she nodded her head. "Right." 

"See, sweetheart," he cooed, "As long as we're on the same page about that, we can get through anything, can't we?" He was rewarded with another short nod and quiet smile. "'M sorry that y'were the one that had to hear those things, and I want y'to know that y'never have to hide that from me again. Tell me and I'll help talk y'down, okay?"

"Okay." 

"Good girl," he praised her, even when she couldn't speak louder than a whisper and manage a smile bigger than the one on her lips if she didn't want her features to crumble. "'M always gonna help you, jus' need y'to tell me how. Can y'promise me that?" 

"I promise, Harry." 

"M'best girl, aren't you?" he crooned to her, dropping his face to nudge his nose again her own. Her smile grew as she took in his words, just as he wanted. "Can I kiss you, sweetheart?" he asked her the full of his lips brushing against her own. 

The quiet nod he gave him was all he needed before he pressing his lips in affectionate pecks all over her face, starting with her plush lips. With each dot of his lips over her skin, more and more bubbling giggles fell from (Y/N)'s smiling mouth, his grip on her tightening as she wiggled in his lap. The bridge of her nose was smothered in his love before he tapped over her cheeks with his lips. Her forehead wasn't spared in the carnage either, getting as many kisses as he could fit in the space until he had to drop his kisses to her eyelids. The salt of her tears was bittersweet as he tasted them on his kiss; sweet knowing that he was able to quell them, but the bitter taste lingered knowing that they started in sadness. By the time he made his way back down to her lips, she was smiling too big to pucker her lips against his. 

"Kiss me back, pretty girl," he murmured, his own amusement seeping into his tone no matter how hard he tried to keep it held back. 

That was all the encouragement she needed before (Y/N) was cradling his face in her hands and trying her best to kiss him through her smile. It was clumsy and off-center, not perfect by far, but it was easily one of Harry's favorite kisses he's ever shared with her. This was where all of her sweetness concentrated itself: in her kiss as she nudged her nose against his and breathed out giggles every time Harry pulled away. 

"I love you," she spoke against his kiss. 

"I love you too, sweetheart, always," he murmured, drawing away just enough to match his gaze to hers. "Me and you, remember?" 

The mantra he had repeated to her more than once brought a bright smile to (Y/N)'s face. 

"Me and you, H." 

—————

"That's the same thing y'told me last week, and I really did take the day off, remember?" he told her, walking them back to the kitchen counter where his abandoned mug of coffee sat in wait after he was distracted, "Don't think I can get away with that again, sweetheart." 

A quiet humph sounded from where she was huddled in his neck as he settled her on the ledge of the kitchen counter. Despite the stable surface now under her bottom, she didn't bother to unravel herself from around Harry's form, thighs still cinched around his hips and arms looped around his neck. 

"Can you work from home, then?" 

"I wish, but I don't have any of m'things with me. And, I've got to be at a meeting today with some of our new clients." Harry dropped a kiss to her shoulder once he saw them deflate at all the reasons he couldn't stay him and lie in with her, no matter how much he wanted to. 

"Fine," she relented, peeling herself away from his neck only enough to get a look at his face. 

Just as he expected, even though she was giving up on her fight, her features were still molded into the sad puppy look she had begun to realize was something he had a hard time resisting. 

"Don't look so sad, darling," he cooed to her, ducking his head to press a kiss to the tip of he nose, "I'll be home soon, 'kay? Y'can even call me on my lunch if y'really miss me that much." 

"We just had so much fun this weekend, I don't want it to be over already," she told him, canting her head to the side as she gazed up at him. 

"We did, didn't we?" he smiled at her, thinking abut their weekend full of nothing but lounging around in bed and going out to eat when (Y/N) got too antsy in the house and wanted to dress up. "I promise we'll do it all again this weekend, pretty girl. Jus' need to get through work first, right?" 

"Okay," she sighed, "Maybe we can go to the aquarium this weekend?" 

Harry's smile winded at her words, dimples deep in his cheeks. "We can definitely do that, sweetheart. I'll buy the tickets today, alright?" 

She brightened some at his promise, giving him the smile he was missing since she decided to be his pouty girl. "Thank you, H." 

His arms around her waist tightened at her quiet gratitude. There was nothing he loved more than making her happy. With his grip, he pulled her just to the edge of the kitchen counter as her body relaxed, legs now dangling on either side of his with her arms a loose loop around his neck. 

"Now, give me a kiss before I go. 'M already going to be running late," Harry requested, dipping his head down with a nudge to her nose with his own. 

(Y/N) complied with no convincing, happily pressing her lips to his. Her kiss tasted like the fruit he cubed up for her for breakfast, warding off the bitter afternotes of the coffee he barely had time to brush from his teeth before (Y/N) pounced on him with pleas to stay home. 

"Love you," he murmured against her lips, planting a small smattering of pecks across her mouth before pulling away. 

"Love you, too," she told him, bright smile on her lips, "Text me when you're on lunch so I can call you." 

"You know I will, darling," he told her, giving her one more kiss before finally stepping out from between her legs. 

(Y/N) hopped off the counter and followed him for the send off, the length his button down swaying over her thighs as she followed him. As much as he hated to leave her, the idea of her waiting at his home for him, dressed in his clothes and full of love for him made his heart race. He'd never had someone to come home to like this, even if they weren't officially moved in together yet. That thought made the days a little easier to get through. 

With one more blown kiss in her direction and a wave before he pulled off, Harry tried his best to start his day despite the fact he was leaving his heart behind.

—————

(Y/N) was bored. 

Harry's house wasn't that fun when he wasn't there with her, she decided. She went through and finished up the laundry they started the day before and changed the sheets out on his bed, and even made sure she had all of her toiletries packed up in her bag so she could go home after dinner tonight, but that only filled a few hours before she was lounging on his couch watching a reality dating show she couldn't believe really found love for these people. Her only saving grace was the fact that the lunch hour was approaching. 

Despite the fact she had already promised to call him during the break this morning, these lonesome hours allowed her to think up an idea that sounded much more fun the longer she laid  out on his couch. 

She was going to go see him. 

She was going to pick up some lunch on the way there, and actually go see him for the first time at his big office. Planning her outfit took all of twenty minutes as she refused to take off his shirt, deciding to pair it with a pair of jeans that Harry had told her made her butt look good and the pearled headband she wore on their first date. It was a fun distraction, getting ready, as she primped her hair and did her skincare routine—forgoing makeup for the day—before placing a pickup order at Harry's favorite little diner he takes her to when she's hungry in the middle of the night. She couldn't wait to surprise him. 

The drive to the diner was a familiar one, a quick stop that had her bubbling with excitement as she double checked the order of Harry's favorite meal and all his fixings (he loved this melt they had, the ingredients basically making up a grilled cheese until Harry added all of these bits and extras that elevated it to a 'melt' instead). As soon as she had today's lunch packed away in the passenger seat, (Y/N) put the address of Harry's office building into her GPS. A canopy of butterflies made their way through her tummy as her ETA approached with every mile she drove to his office. She'd never been before, and the fact that Harry wasn't expecting her added another layer to her bubbling nerves. Hopefully, she could find the place—and his office—easily so she couldn't have to ruin the surprise with a call asking him for directions. 

Once the towering building came into view, (Y/N) realized just how many times she'd passed it on the way to her labs for her required science class her first year of university. The glossy windows shone in the sun's rays, gleaming almost as brightly as the blocky lettering that detailed the company name over the top floor of the structure. She knew his job was important, that he made a good living and met high-profile people, but she never figured it was this important. If she was being honest, what she had pictured was a building in a business plaza with a few floors to spare for the different departments, Harry's office settled on the highest one (at max, the fifth floor). Looking at the scale of his job, she now felt a little guilty for convincing him to call in the previous week. (That didn't mean she wasn't planning on doing it again, though). 

With their lunches in hand, the plastic bag hanging off her wrist as she locked her car, (Y/N) craned her neck to gaze up the height of the building. If Harry was important as she figured he would be—should be—, he was at the top behind one of those glossy windows. He probably had a killer view. 

Going through the glass doors, (Y/N) saw a luxurious waiting room complete with a receptionist smiling behind a glass desk and a shiny set of elevators pinging behind her as people came and went. It was definitely the lunch hour if the amount of suited people sifting through the lobby with lunch pails and takeaway containers to some of the fancier restaurants nearby was anything to go by. 

"Hello," the receptionist greeted her, a bright smile on her face as that could rival the gleaming plate on her desk that detailed her name to be Seline. "Are you here to drop off a lunch delivery?" 

Glancing down at her casual look and a bag of food at her side, (Y/N) couldn't blame her for thinking she was just here to drop off some executive's food order. The one day she doesn't feel like getting all dressed up to see him.

"Oh, no," she laughed, carefully approaching the desk so she didn't make any scoffs with the worn soles of her shoes, "I'm actually here to see Harry Styles? I think he's supposed to be on his lunch break right now, so I was hoping I could eat with him if you wouldn't mind telling me where I can find his office." 

"Oh," Seline chirped with a raise of her brows, glancing down at the desktop Mac stationed on the surface of her glass desk, "I see. And may I ask for your name?" 

"Right, sorry, I'm (Y/N). His girlfriend." (Y/N) hated the way her answer felt like a question with the way her tone tilted upwards at the end. She was beginning to feel so out of place in this building, she even doubted her own name.

"His girlfriend?" Seline deadpanned, her eyes flicking from her screen to fix on (Y/N). Though she still held a pleasant expression on her face, there was something vacant entering her smile, like she wasn't entirely sure what to do about this situation. 

"Yeah," she affirmed with a jerky nod, her hair fluttering behind the hold of the headband crowing her head, "It's kind of a surprise, so..." 

(Y/N) cringed as she trailed off, wishing she had thought through her statement before she opened her mouth. 

"Oh, okay," Seline smiled, the edges turning down some as she tapped away at her keyboard. After pressing definitively on the enter key, the receptionist looked up with an apology in her eyes, "Unfortunately, I'm not able to let anyone up to see any of the executives unless I have express permission from them or an appointment on their schedule. But, I can take a message for you and let him know you stopped by?" 

A kind of anxiety (Y/N) hadn't felt since her first day of college swept through her system. She was sure Seline was doing her job, following policies in place that made the most of Harry and his colleagues' time, but (Y/N) had never felt more stupid or out of place in her life. Another set of employees dressed in suits and skirts, everything creaseless with precise pleats and expensive shoes that clacked over the tiled floor made their way out of the elevator, making (Y/N) feel that much more out of place with the holes in her jeans and the wrinkles in her borrowed shirt. She hadn't even bothered to brush her hair before she left. 

The bag of food at her side crinkled as she shifted, grabbing for her phone from her pocket. "Um, could I actually give him a call, really quick? I-I'm sure he'll let me up, I just didn't know he needed to let you know." 

"Of course, take your time," Seline offered, dropping her skeptical gaze to (Y/N)'s flowery cased phone, "As soon as I have his permission come through my system, I can buzz the elevator for you." 

Peeping out a thank you, (Y/N) scurried off to one of the white leather seats that decorated the waiting area. She was sure no one was paying her any mind as she fiddled with her phone, getting frustrated when her Face I.D. wasn't accepted with the way her hands were shaking, but she swore every person that passed through the waiting area—especially Seline—had their eyes glued to the silly girl that was trying to bypass protocol to see her 'boyfriend'. 

By the time she had the phone pressed to her ear with Harry's contact pulled up, (Y/N) worried she was going to scream if the plastic bag with their food crinkled one more time in the quiet lobby. 

"Sweetheart, I was jus' about to text you," Harry greeted her, his voice offering a flood of relief. 

"Harry, hi—uh—I'm at your office." She cringed as the words left her mouth, knowing Seline could definitely hear the way she wobbled through her words. "But—um—I'm not allowed up until you say its okay." 

"You are? Sweetheart, I'm so sorry, I didn't know y'were coming," Harry prattled off after a beat, the sound of a keyboard tapping in the background. 

"It's okay, I was trying to surprise you with lunch and everything," she murmured, feeling silly now in her plan. Of course she wasn't going to be escorted to someone's corporate office without some kind of permission or appointment. At least they were getting it figured out. 

"Oh, pretty girl," Harry cooed through the phone, his smile evident in his tone, "That's so sweet of you. I can't wait to see you." He paused for a moment before she heard a ping on the line. "Alright, I sent my access code down to Seline, she'll buzz y'right up, yeah? Once you're on m'floor, just need to take a right to Shelly's desk and you'll need to tell her your name but she'll let you in right away." 

"Thank you, H," she sighed as her shoulders sagged in relief. With a proper plan in place, (Y/N) could breathe. "Love you." 

"Love you too, gorgeous. I'll see you in a minute." 

After hanging up, Seline waved her over as soon as (Y/N) stowed her phone in her pocket. "Mr. Styles' permission just came through!" she beamed at her, "I'm so sorry about that confusion, Ms. (Y/N). Mr. Styles just didn't let me know he was expecting anyone and you look so young, I was worried a daughter of one of his clients got a little too attached over a client dinner or something." Seline laughed as if she had told (Y/N) one of her funniest jokes as she clicked away at her keyboard, the up arrow above one of the elevators lighting up as she pressed enter. Swiping a keycard from a drawer on her desk, Seline handed it out with a polite smile on her face. "Scan this at the elevator, and go to floor twenty. Have a nice lunch, Ms. (Y/N)." 

(Y/N) swallowed as she took the keycard, reciprocating the polite smile the receptionist gave her though (Y/N) could bet her own was nothing more than a shaky imitation. She worked robotically as she followed the directions she was given, the keycard taking a moment to scan as she couldn't steady her hand. 

She looked so young that Seline worried she was a daughter of one of Harry's clients coming to stalk him? Alone in the elevator with her distorted reflecting staring back at her in the mirrored panels that slated the walls, (Y/N) didn't know what to think. Of course it was never a secret that there was a lengthy gap in age between she and H—the very reason he had waited so long in becoming close to her—but never had that fact been so blatantly presented to her. 

Sure, (Y/N) didn't do herself any favors with her makeup-less face and rumpled outfit, but she didn't think she particularly looked like someone's teen daughter who sought after a man of her father's demographic. Shaking off the comment, she tried to remind herself of the relief of finally getting out of that lobby and getting closer and closer to her Harry—her comfort zone. All she had to do was talk to Shelly, and she was in. No more crinkling plastic bag or scuffs of her shoes over the expensive tile. 

Once the elevator dinged, the number twenty illuminated over the door, (Y/N) let out a breath. This floor held the same ambiance as the waiting room she'd just left—clean lines, light colors, and glass fixtures everywhere. Office doors with titles and names lined the length of the hall. Each sprawling end was serrated by the lobby area that almost perfectly emulated the one below, only smaller. 

The same glass desk as Seline's was stationed in the middle of the lobby, the main fixture in the area with the gleaming iMac and tall vase of neutral flowers on the edge. A desk plate inscribed with Shelly across the brass shone in the sunlight seeping through the windows. But, there was no Shelly to be seen. 

Peering down the hall, (Y/N) spotted what looked like it could be the office to the Chief Officer of Brand Relationships, or his better known name: Harry Styles. Without Shelly there, and her safe haven within her sights, (Y/N) figured she'd just toe her way down the hall and get to his office by herself. Just as she moved to bypass the glass desk, the sound of heels tapping over the elaborately titled floors sounded from the hall behind her. 

Looking over her shoulder, (Y/N) paused when she realized who was clicking over the floor. 

"Hello, sorry about that I was—" Shelly cut herself off, her brows furrowing once she was close enough to realize who was standing in her lobby, "(Y/N)?" 

"Hi, Shelly," (Y/N) awkwardly greeted her, taking in her classmate from the Business English course she took before (Y/N) realized she would rather die than have anything to do with writing business polices and handbook guides. She'd never seen Shelly so dressed up, used to her curls being tied into a poof on the top of her head with baggy sweatsuits covering her form. Here, she was clad in a smart skirt with the matching top tucked in, complete with the resounding heels that clacked over the floor, hair in defined and shiny ringlets. (Y/N) swallowed before she spoke again, "I didn't know you worked here." 

"Oh yeah," Shelly waved off, a pinch remaining in her brow, "this is where I do my internship hours." 

When she paused, this is what (Y/N) had been scared of. She and Shelly certainly weren't close enough to maintain a bubbling conversation with anything other than surface level small talk before settling into a static silence. 

"That's nice," (Y/N) smiled, forcing herself to keep from grabbing for her phone out of habit at the feel of the awkward air, "How do you like it?" 

Shelly gave her a generic smile, one she most likely trained herself for with this job. "It's really nice, thanks for asking. Super nice place, and the food is awesome around here so there's always fun lunch breaks to be had." They both broke out into polite laughs, (Y/N) trying to ease herself when she saw Shelly's eyes drop to the plastic bag at her side. "Are you here dropping off food for someone?" 

Round two begins. 

"Oh no," (Y/N) shook her head, schooling her features as best she could, "I'm here to see—um—Harry Styles, actually. He said he sent a permi—"

"You're Mr. Styles' girlfriend?" 

(Y/N) nervously began to pluck at the buttons of her top with her restless fingers. Though her smile was beginning to waver, she kept up her polite facade. "That's me," she chirped with a shrug, faux-nonchalance greasing her joints.

"Oh," Shelly sounded, eyes wide with brows raised as she rounded the side of her desk. In seconds her gaze was flitting over her computer screen, incredulous look still pasted to her face by the time she finally looked up at (Y/N) again. "You're the one that talked to Seline downstairs?" 

"Yeah," (Y/N) replied simply, unsure of where else to go with a question like that. 

Shelly hummed, leaning down and typing out something on the keyboard before she stood to the full of her height and gave her attention to (Y/N), though she wished she could give it back. "You're having lunch with him today?" 

"Yeah," she parroted, the bag at her side crinkling at the worst time, "I called him when I was downstairs, so he should know I'm here and everything already." 

"Right," Shelly laughed, shaking her head with a fluff to her curls as she seemingly remembered where she was, "Sorry about that. I got Seline's message that Mr. Styles' girlfriend was here to see him, you're just not what I was expecting." She rounded her desk once more with a pleasant smile, heels clacking.

Gesturing for (Y/N) to follow her with a quiet right this way, Shelly started her down the same hallway (Y/N) had seen Harry's nameplate. As much as she had wanted to scurry away and hide in Harry's office before, (Y/N) dragged her feet during the trek. Maybe she was nothing but a glutton for punishment, unable to let the draining weeds growing in her head go unfed, but she couldn't help herself before the next question left her lips. 

"What do you mean?"

"Hm?" Shelly hummed, falling back to walk in line with (Y/N). 

"Just—I mean..." (Y/N) stuttered, cringing at herself for stumbling so hard over her words in the quiet hallway. "Um, what were you expecting when you heard his girlfriend was coming?" 

"Oh," Shelly chirped, slowing even further as she directed her gaze to the ceiling with a pucker to her lips as she thought. "No one specific, really. I don't know, I figured it would be some kind of executive lady, or something. Oh, wait! Do you remember Prof Frances?" 

(Y/N) stopped herself from taking in the deep breath that ached to be a sigh at the mention of one of the teachers that was well known across campus. She was a super beautiful woman, someone that people were known to take her class for with only the intention of staring at her and trying their hand at flirting with her during office hours. She was a kind woman, reserved and quiet when not up front lecturing, but held the kind of confidence that only came with age and loving the body you were in and the person you were. She was grown. Of course, Shelly would picture someone like that for Harry. 

Cool, confident, and sure of herself. Her beauty was only a plus and her age was much more well matched for Shelly's Mr. Styles. 

"I remember her." 

"I guess I pictured someone like her then," Shelly bubbled off, shrugging her shoulders as they came to a stop by Harry's door, "All tall and dark and everything. I definitely wasn't expecting one of my classmates." 

(Y/N) gave a polite laugh to Shelly's attempt at a joke. She felt entirely too stiff in the lungs and tight in her tummy to think of anything sunny at the the moment. 

"It was really nice to see you, though," Shelly chirped, eyes bright as she turned, "Let me know when you're planning on coming by next time, and I can tell Seline so she can have the keycard and everything waiting for you." 

Getting out a weak thanks, (Y/N) watched as Shelly knocked on Harry's office door before cracking it open enough to stick her head through and let him know his guest was here. The sound of Harry's deep voice sounding through his office, though muffled by the time it reached (Y/N)'s ears, did enough to soothe her anxieties before she was ushered over the threshold with Shelly shutting the door behind her. 

"Hi, sweetheart," Harry smiled at her, rising from his spot behind his desk with open arms, "'M so happy to see you, c'mere." 

It was instinct the way she moved across the office, dropping the bag of food into one of the chairs opposing his desk with her bag and keys. (Y/N) smushed her face against his chest as soon as she was close enough, looping her arms around his middle while Harry's became a cradle around her shoulders. 

"Hi," she peeped against his chest, eyes falling closed. 

"My pretty girl," he hummed as he dropped a kiss to the top of her head. "Best surprise ever, you know that?" 

"Good," she tried to laugh, urging her lungs to relax, "I was starting to worry that I wasn't supposed to be here." 

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, unpeeling himself from around her. Shifting his grip, he laced a hand through hers while he reached for the bag of food on his desk, a smile appearing on his face when he noticed the restaurant name on the plastic. 

Flashing back to the tight air that filtered through the lobby downstairs and the unexpected run-in with a classmate, (Y/N) only shrugged. Fanning her gaze across his office, she followed after him as he took her to the comfortable pair of chairs stationed by the floor to ceiling window that plated one side of his office. The perfect spot to schmooze clients and lunch with other executives. 

"It's just really fancy here, and all," (Y/N) settled on as she sunk into the plush leather of the chair. 

A huffed laugh left Harry's lips as he doled out the contents of the bag, packets of silverware and napkins being shared on the sidetable planted between the chairs. "Yeah, a little, isn't it? Definitely not what it used to be when I started working here." 

(Y/N) only nodded as he spoke, a small smile on her face. She wanted to be here with Harry, talking about his work, seeing his excitement when he realized what she picked up for him, or just allowing the fact she was spending time with him to wash over her. She wanted all of that, but each time she felt herself relax, a moment of Seline's quickly concealed judgement or Shelly's bordering-on-disrespectful surprise flashed through her memory. 

Should she even be here right now? 

"Pretty girl, y'got me my melt!" Harry chirped with a bright smile, bringing her attention back to the moment where an unopened takeaway box sat on her lap. 

A genuine curve of her lips molded her features. This was what she had been looking forward to when she thought up her plan. "And, I even made sure they put all that gross stuff you like on there." 

Harry scoffed and made a face as he reached for a pack of cutlery. "'S not gross to have mushrooms on a melt, love. At least 'm not dipping it in ketchup or something worse." 

With a pointed glance in her direction, Harry waited for the explosion she was going to give him. 

"Harry Styles, that was one time, and I was drunk. It's not fair to keep bringing that up!" 

The bright smile on his face was reward enough for all the trouble she'd gone through to make it to his office. "'S jus' shocking, that's all," Harry pressed, his curls falling over his forehead as he shook his head, "As a self-proclaimed grilled cheese purist, I expected a little better out of you." 

Rolling her eyes, (Y/N) cracked open her own box. From the corner of her eye, she could see Harry digging into his lunch, spinach leaves and avocado smears edging out the back of the sandwich. 

"You know," he started, swallowing down his bite while (Y/N) twirled her side of macaroni on her fork, "y'should be happy that's the most embarrassing thing you've done around me while drunk. By the time I was your age, I had friends who had to babysit me at parties after this one time I tried to eat some girl's cigarette. I only have photos to prove that even happened, though because I don't remember a second of it." 

Normally, (Y/N) would have been enamored at the mention of what Harry was like when he was university aged like her. But, today the phrase of when I was your age, struck a cord in her. 

There hadn't been too much thought in her head about their age gap when she met Harry. The only time she had really thought about it was when Harry brought it up, telling her that he hadn't wanted to pursue her sooner in hopes of avoiding making her uncomfortable. When he had told her that, she remembered the way she canted her head to the side with a furrow in her brow; the fact he was thirty (or close to, when they met) hadn't been something that sounded all that bad to her. If he had showed her any kind of interest earlier, (Y/N) wouldn't have given it a single thought before trying to subtly flirt her way into his life. 

Today had been the first time she really had to confront their age gap in a way that didn't make her feel protected and warm. 

Sure, she could understand a moment's hesitation. They weren't a traditional coupling, and that was fine, but hearing more than once that she was not what others had expected to be Harry's girlfriend got under her skin. The mention of a previous professor just about sealed the deal for (Y/N). 

Of course, someone his age would be able to bond over the same things they grew up with, the same formative years and pop culture references. Of course, he would be better matched to someone with the same level of maturity who was on the same chapter of their life. 

"What's got y'thinking so hard over there, sweetheart? Making me nervous y'jus' remembered y'left the stove on or something." Harry's joking brought her back to the present, the bright open space of his office greeting her from where she emerged in the back of her head. 

(Y/N) shook her head, "Nothing. I was watching Love Island before I left, and those people are so weird sometimes." As expected Harry's smile turned crooked at the mention of the television show she had managed to get him sucked into on more than one occasion. 

"Yeah? What happened this time?" 

"Too much, I'll have to show you later," (Y/N) brushed off. She could barely remember half of the contestants' names right now, let alone recall any specific scene of the episode she watched today. She had much bigger things on her mind. "Can I ask you something, H?" 

The responding hum he gave her was enough to have (Y/N) pushing at the fries littering her takeaway box as she tried to construct her question. 

"Have you... You've told people about us, right?" 

Harry nodded his head as he plucked a dangling piece of spinach off his melt. "Yeah, I've mentioned y'to my colleagues and all and talked about you at a couple of events and everything. Why?" 

Urging herself to be nonchalant, (Y/N) tried her best despite the robotic motion of her shoulders as she shrugged. "Both of the people I talked to—the receptionists—seemed really surprised to see me." 

"I mean, y'surprised even me, sweetheart," Harry laughed, smiling around the French fry he tossed in his mouth. 

"I know. I guess, it was like they were surprised to see me. Like, they couldn't believe that I was your girlfriend." (Y/N) zipped her lips before she could manage to spill any more of what was running through her head while she had been pinned under the microscope of his employee's gazes. 

 A furrow pinched at his brow as he wiped at his mouth. "I don't really show pictures of you, or anything since 's no one's business," Harry paused as he spoke, "But, I can start doing that if y'want? Was thinking about putting a picture of you on m'desk anyway, so we can start there." 

While the mention of being a fixture on Harry's work desk was a sweet sentiment, that wasn't exactly what she had been shooting for. She didn't know how to tell him about what had happened out in the waiting areas, not wanting to cause any problems or drama, and Harry didn't seem to understand what she was hinting at. She could always bring it up later, once he was out of his work clothes and (Y/N) wasn't feeling so raw from the experience. 

With that thought, (Y/N) brushed off the memories and sunk herself into the leather of her chair. 

"You'd put me on your desk?" she smiled at him, trying not to picture what Seline or Shelly would do if they saw a photograph of Mr. Styles with his co-ed girlfriend in his office. 

"Course," Harry cemented, a sweet smile on his features, "It'd be a whole lot easier than unlocking m'phone every five minutes to see your picture." 

Though there was a dark corner in the back of her mind that couldn't even begin to prune the poisonous weeds growing there, (Y/N) did her best to accept Harry's sweetness as it was. 

He loved her and she loved him back just as much, that was all that mattered. 

—————

By the time (Y/N) made it back to Harry's house, she couldn't think of another time she had been this exhausted. 

Lunch with him was perfect after she managed to banish those inflammatory feelings from her mind, but it was the trek back downstairs when his lunch hour was up that wrung her out. Shelly was behind her desk when (Y/N) left Harry's office, giving her a polite smile and see you later  pinged in (Y/N)'s head knowing that the next time she would see the receptionist would be on her college campus. Seline was just as polite, but still vacant as she flicked her gaze to (Y/N)'s shoes that squeaked over the tile on accident. 

It was nothing they said, but the way they looked at her that had (Y/N) fidgeting on the drive back. Shelly could be a bit of a gossip from what (Y/N) could remember back when they shared a class, and it wouldn't surprise her to find out that the ding she heard from Seline's computer was a message from Shelly dishing about Mr. Styles' girlfriend. 

(Y/N) was an overthinker and she knew that. The stupidest things in class could have her up at night analyzing every moment in fear she said the wrong thing or wasn't nice enough in a single moment. Everything with Andrew and Iris that happened forever ago had made her lose many weeks of sleep trying to figure out where she had gone wrong to cause either of them to treat her so poorly. When she and Harry started getting closer, she remembered the nights she would lay with her eyes on the ceiling trying to figure out if the way he said 'just friends' really meant they were only friends or if she should put more stock in the way he held her to his side and clung to her hand as he walked her home. She spun herself out on more than one occasion, and it appeared her power was needed once more. 

Stepping over the threshold to his house, (Y/N) was washed over with Harry's scent. Though the hallmarks of the typical comfort she felt walking into his space remained, she still had that lingering feeling of being out of place. Just like she had at his office. 

She kept her shoes on as she trekked through the space, forgoing the usual ritual of shucking them off before placing them beside Harry's own collection by the door. Her bag hung limply in her hand as he walked down the hall. She felt ready to bolt at a moment's notice like a spooked animal. 

Though he was partial to hanging art pieces through his home, Harry still had his fair share of personal photos pasted to the walls. A panel dedicated to his family and friends stole (Y/N)'s attention as she approached his room, eyes grazing the pictures. Many were with the friend group she was now apart of, majority with Harry's closest friends of the bunch, Mitch and Sarah. She could see holidays and getaways spent with his people; tan as he vacationed with Mitch and Tom and Jeff in Jamaica, and bundled up with a cap covering his curls while spending time in Japan. 

Trailing her eyes through the photographs, Harry's smile seemed to show the brightest in pictures with his family. More often than not, his mother and sister were tucked underneath his arms, matching smiles on their faces as they gazed into the lens. The trio of them all looked so similar; dark hair and pretty eyes, dimples and high cheekbones. 

(Y/N) wondered if his mom smiled like that when Harry told her about his girlfriend. When he told her that his girlfriend was still in university and had to have Harry order for her when they went out because she was too anxious to do it herself. Did those dimples still crater her cheeks when Harry detailed out how his girlfriend's ID was still skeptically looked at by bouncers and bartenders, a handful of them even blatantly asking if it was a fake or giving Harry a dirty look for corralling some young girl out to the bars with him. (Y/N) wondered how his sister reacted the first time she saw a photo of them on instagram, and even moreso when she had inevitably perused (Y/N)'s page after and found teenaged photos that weren't that far down the feed. 

Did either of them look the way Seline had? Did they share that same shocked surprise that Shelly had written all over her face?

Shaking her head, (Y/N) willed herself to go to his room, tearing her gaze from the wall of photos that she was only using to hurt her own feelings. Those weeds of doubt that had sprouted back at Harry's office had vined around her mind and taken her hostage with no escape route in place. 

(Y/N) knew in her heart that Harry was her perfect match; she could trust herself on that decision. No one had loved or cared for her the way he did. No one she had ever known texted her in the middle of the day just because they saw a bundle of clouds that looked like this little plush dog (Y/N) had loved as a kid. No one called her first thing in the morning with the express purpose of leaving her a voicemail to wake up to. 

She knew that Harry was her perfect match, but maybe she wasn't his. 

Was she holding him back? There could be someone out there that could actually relate to him when he brought up some toy he had as a kid that was discontinued before (Y/N) was even born. Someone who could afford to treat him to more than a cup of coffee or lunch at a greasy diner. There could be someone who could fit him better, but he was too busy entertaining her to find them.

Sinking into the edge of his mattress, (Y/N) hung her head in her hands with her elbows digging into her thighs. She knew she needed to stop herself right now, right where she was in her never-ending process of negativity. She wasn't being rational. 

Harry loved her and he wouldn't waste his time on someone the didn't believe was worth it. And, (Y/N) knew she loved him just as much, if not more than he did her. Spiraling over all of this wasn't helpful to anyone, especially when she knew there was no reason to doubt her gut or her place in Harry's life. 

But, that insecurity that rooted itself in her brain and guilt that had flooded in along with it wasn't that easy to boot. 

Pulling her head from her hands, she looked to the mess of her stuff she had made by his closet door, duffle bag left open with her clothes spilling out from all sides. (Y/N) sighed as she stood up, reaching down to clean up the mess she left on his floor after rifling through for her outfit for the day. In a pang of bitterness, she couldn't help but knock herself down with the thought that Prof Frances would never leave a mess like this at Harry's house. She was too mature, and put together to leave her charging cable laying along the floor with extra underwear hanging out of the side pocket to her bag. 

Taking a deep breath, (Y/N) shoved her things harder into her bag, wrinkling and mushing her clothes into a lump of fabric. She was mad at herself for getting so hung up over this all; it wasn't even bad what was said today! Sure it was a bit annoying to be compared to a teenager and told that her old professor would be a more predictable fit for Harry, but no one was out to hurt her feelings—it had only been herself knocking her down. Slumping back on her heels before her bag, (Y/N) wondered if she might have better luck of shaking this feeling if she just went home. 

There, she could shower using her fancy body scrub that was too hard to transport for sleepovers at Harry's, use her sweet-smelling shampoo and even do a face mask and wipe away everything that had bothered her today. At home she could lick her wounds and be a better partner to Harry when she wasn't so raw and down on herself. While she thought she hid it pretty well over lunch how upset she was, she knew it wasn't fair to Harry to wait for him to come home after a long day and pretend she was in the best of moods. 

With a sigh, brows pinched at the middle, (Y/N) hooked her overnight bag over her shoulder before reaching for her phone. She had her eyes placed on her phone as she left his room, making a point to bypass the wall of family photos without a glance. 

     hey h I think Im gonna go home:( im not feeling super good and really want to shower at my place and sleep some before class tomorrow. ill bring your shirt back after I wash it and everything. sorry :(

Her hands shook as he pressed send before locking his front door behind her. Locking her phone, (Y/N) made her way to her car with a pit in her tummy. It didn't feel good to lie to Harry, especially when it was a lie that would keep her from spending time with him. She didn't even want to see the inevitable sweet text he would send back, most likely offering to drop off soup or come by for a cuddle if she needed someone to help take care of her. In the long run, though, she knew this time apart would be good for them. 

That's why even when Harry texted her back with with a sad face and a promise that it was alright, pretty girl, she couldn't waver. Even when he sent her another message after he had assumed she'd fallen asleep while she was taking her time in the shower that he missed her and couldn't wait to see her later this week. He was here for her if she needed anything, he reminded her. 

Locking her phone without responding that night was the hardest thing she had to do. 

—————

Harry felt his heart ache when he stepped out of the shower, looping towel around his waist as he saw (Y/N) hadn't texted him back still. Poor thing really must not be feeling well if she conked out at seven, his little night owl. 

He hadn't been too surprised when she messaged him earlier in the day to let him know she wasn't feeling well, but it still made his shoulders drop at the prospect of her not being there when he got home. She had been a bit off during lunch, lost in her head and reluctant to eat more than a few bites before she claimed she was full from breakfast still. He was worried about her when he saw that she hadn't even been enticed by the side of macaroni and cheese she ordered for herself, the diner being one of her favorite places to have it. If not for the fact she told him she wanted to get some sleep in so she could be well enough for class tomorrow, Harry would have insisted in going to her place after he got off work. But, he knew that if he stopped by, she would do what she always did and try to stay awake as long as possible with him. 

If she wasn't well enough by Wednesday when they had plans to see one another, he wouldn't take no for an answer to bring her some soup or coddle her through her bug, like she had declined tonight instead for sleep. 

Settling into bed, Harry was wrapped in (Y/N)'s scent that puffed through his comforter as he fluffed it around himself. When he closed his eyes, it was like she was still with him. 

After setting his alarm early enough he had time to call (Y/N) and leave a good morning voicemail and make his cup of coffee before heading to work, Harry filled his head with all the love and affection he wished he could be giving to (Y/N) in that moment. Hopefully she would feel some of it and know he was thinking about her, and could help her feel somewhat better.

Harry hoped she was thinking about him, too.

—————

Though the threat of a day's worth of classes loomed over her head, (Y/N) woke on Wednesday morning feeling worlds better than she had even twenty-four hours prior. She had made the right choice in staying with herself for a couple of days, having all that time to spend with herself to get her head screwed on straight and talk herself down from the spiraling decline she had set herself up for. 

Tuesday had been a hard day to get through, especially as she started the day with a mention of her faux-illness in Harry's morning voicemail. That guilt she felt about holding him back, not being the right person to make him happy only increased ten-fold when she tacked on the fact she had lied to get away from him for a couple of nights. But, since she had all that time to herself she was allowed to wallow for a few hours before being sucked into real life and having to exit her head. 

The reality of it all was that it didn't matter what ran through Seline's head when she saw who her boss's girlfriend was. Same thing with Shelly; she had assumed Harry would be interested in someone like Prof Frances, but that wasn't true. Harry was interested in someone like (Y/N), and she loved him back just as much. That was all that mattered, and if anyone really had any issues, any quarrels about her age or whether or not she was an appropriate person for Harry to be in love with, didn't. She was happy with him, completely dedicated and willing to be in this relationship, and she knew he felt the same. That was all that mattered. 

By the time she'd gone to sleep on Tuesday night, (Y/N) was still happy to have this time to herself (especially since she was doing all kinds of body skincare that entailed her hands to be wrapped in serum soaked gloves and feet to be in the same situation), she missed Harry. At least this time she didn't pretend to be asleep while he was texting her. 

Wednesday morning was a piece of cake by then. The pit of anxiety that had weighed her down since Monday was finally gone, and (Y/N) couldn't have been more excited to see Harry that night. 

She just had to get through class first. 

By the time her final class of the day started—creative writing with Prof Daniels at two p.m every Wednesday and Friday—(Y/N) was excited. She actually really loved the current assignment for the class, and didn't feel even a tint of exhaustion at the idea of having plans after she was done for the day. If she made enough progress on her draft today, she might even be able to share what she had done with Harry and see what he thought. 

After Mr. Daniels made his introduction for the day, reminding the class of the first draft's due date and what themes are meant to be focused on for this assignment, he retired to his office for the hour leaving everyone to independently work and make progress on their drafts. A few of her classmates left once their professor went to his office, getting the attendance grade before going off to do whatever else they wanted for the day, but (Y/N) stayed planted in her spot, headphones in her ears.

Wanting to start off on the right foot when this project was announced, (Y/N) had outlined the general flow of the piece with each of the required themes weaved throughout, making this entire process much easier than she had in the past. (Y/N) had found her groove moments later, typing away at her laptop with quick glances back and forth at her handwritten outline. Much of the class had emptied out for the hour when she bothered to take a look around, but she didn't mind being one of the few that took advantage of this allotted time to finish her work. Besides, she didn't want to go home and forget what time it was while she was working only to have Harry come in to see her still in her sweats when she had something a little bit prettier planned to greet him with. 

When (Y/N) had just made it through the first section of her piece, out of the corner of her eye she noticed someone settling in the seat beside her. A quick glance showed it was one of the girls in her class that she often peer reviewed with, Isla. She was someone (Y/N) had met through Iris but wasn't all that close to either of them, which (Y/N) was thankful for after everything that had happened; she was nice during peer reviews and gave honest feedback, and (Y/N) would have hated having to find someone else in the class if she insisted on being loyal to Iris. 

Isla's body was positioned in her seat to face (Y/N), knees pointed toward her with a smile on her face. Her laptop was still stationed at the typical desk she occupied, so (Y/N) figured she wasn't switching her seating situation. Plucking a headphone out of her ear, (Y/N) paused her music. 

"Hey," she greeted Isla, voice quiet despite the fact almost all of her remaining classmates had their own headphones on and music playing, "What's up?" 

"Hey, (Y/N)," Isla smiled at her, quickly glancing at her phone that was lit up in her lap, "I'm so sorry to bother you, I know we're supposed to be working on our stories." 

"Its okay," (Y/N) brushed off, giving her attention to Isla despite the blinking cursor on her screen that urged her to keep going, "Did you need help with something?" 

Isla shook her head, red curls fluttering around her face, "Oh no, this is actually super weird. But, my roommate told me something that didn't sound right, but I wanted to ask you if it was true." 

A furrow pinched at (Y/N)'s brow as she listened. Couldn't Isla have just googled this? 

"Okay," she started, "I don't know if I'll know the answer, but I'll try." 

Releasing her bottom lip that had gone trapped between her teeth, Isla grabbed for her phone in her lap one more time. "You know Shelly Blake, right?" 

At the mention of Shelly's name, (Y/N) felt all the color drain from her face. Nonetheless, she gave Isla a small nod, rolling her lips between her teeth. She knew where this was going.

"Well, my roommate had brunch with her this morning, I guess, and Shelly said that you're dating her boss," Isla babbled, not being nearly as quiet as (Y/N) wanted, "But I told Kerry—my roommate—that I don't think that's true because I think Shelly's boss is, like, thirty or something. But, Shelly says that you, like, went to her office and went and saw him and all, but, I don't know, I don't believe it. I know you have a boyfriend and all, but it's not him, right?" 

(Y/N)'s mouth ran dry as soon as she heard the mention of Harry's age. Of course, that would be the point of contention as to why there was no way (Y/N) could be dating Shelly's boss. 

She didn't know what to say, but (Y/N)'s silence seemed to be enough for Isla to realize her own answer. (Y/N) worried her fingers in her lap as she tried to come up with something to say, the nourishing mask she had done on her hands the night before making a much harder task of picking at her cuticles. 

"Um, actually," (Y/N) started, feigning a smile on her features so she didn't make this interaction any more awkward by showing that she was hurt, "it is true. I've been dating him for a little while now, and I just went and visited him for lunch on Monday." 

"Oh," Isla sounded, glancing back at her phone before finally locking the device and turning it facedown, "I didn't know that. I guess I always figured the guy you post on instagram was from that tech university that's an hour away or something since I'd never seen him around." 

"Oh, no," (Y/N) shook her head, pleasant face still in place, "He's an executive at Shelly's company in the city. We just don't really hang out on campus and all, obviously." 

"And he's really, like, thirty?" 

That pit (Y/N) had been afraid of returning began to open up in her tummy again, working like a blackhole as it tried to suck her in from the inside out. "Yeah, his birthday was a couple of months ago." 

"Wow," Isla said simply, brows raising over her eyes, "I had no idea. I didn't even know you liked older guys. Or, that there were any actually cute ones around here that were willing to date college girls." 

Just as (Y/N) was about to explain that while his age was something she found attractive, she wasn't necessarily into 'older guys', she was into Harry, Isla cut her off with a bubbling gasp that fed into a set of laughter. 

"You didn't meet him on one of those sugar daddy sites, did you? Because I've always wondered if they worked, and if you did meet him on one you need to tell me which one because I need to try."

While she knew Isla was only trying to play around, (Y/N) didn't know what to say and knew she wasn't hiding it that well. She was sure Shelly or Seline had the same phrase—sugar daddy—running through their head when they realized her relationship to Harry, but neither of them had said it out loud. There was nothing inherently wrong with those kinds of arrangements, especially when everyone was happy and willing, but to have her love for Harry be reduced down to a relationship based on favors and cash hurt (Y/N) more than she realized it could. She would never use Harry for his money or take advantage of the fact he had the means to take care of her in places where she couldn't. That was never something she ever considered when she met him, or that ever crossed her mind still. 

"Oh my god, (Y/N), I'm so sorry, that's not how I meant it at all," Isla rushed out as soon as she realized her mistake, her hands out between them as if she could wipe her comment out of thin air, "I just realized how that sounded, but I promise I didn't mean it like that, at all! I know he's your actual boyfriend, and its not like that at all. I was only trying to joke around, I'm sorry!" 

"It's okay, it's okay," (Y/N) said, trying to soothe the situation as best she could and hopefully get Isla's volume down before someone overheard her, "I know you were only joking, I just wasn't expecting it, that's all." 

"Are you sure?" Isla edged, features molded into an apology.

"Totally," (Y/N) pressed, "Don't worry about it, okay? It's not a big deal." The blackhole in (Y/N)'s stomach would love to beg to differ, though. 

"Okay," Isla accepted with a reluctant smile, "Its cool if I tell my roommate that its true then? About you and Shelly's boss and all?" 

In this moment, (Y/N) would rather die than have more people know about her relationship status and the opinions that went along with it, but there was no use in stopping it now. "Yeah, of course. Just let her know we didn't meet on a sugar daddy site, so I have no idea how legit those are." 

Her comment drew a laugh out of Isla's lips, finally easing her from her faux-pas. "Thanks, (Y/N). Sorry to bother you, again." 

As Isla stood from her borrowed seat, (Y/N) shook her head. "Its totally fine." 

After sharing quiet goodbyes, (Y/N) was left alone again with Isla settling in her typical post towards the front of the room. Pushing her headphones back into her ears, (Y/N) wanted to resume where she was at in her assignment, but couldn't find the spot in her brain to concentrate. Her outline no longer seemed useful with all of her previous work feeling like it was for naught now that she couldn't concentrate for the life of her. 

She knew her resolve was fragile when she made her peace with those comments she heard on Monday, but she didn't know it was this fragile. 

Not only had she been branded a teenage stalker, but she was now a sugar baby using Harry for his money—two things that had been shared with her in less than a week. The thread holding her sanity together was moments away from snapping if someone shared one more thought about her relationship. 

With another fifteen minutes left of class, (Y/N) just decided pack it up for the day. There was no way she was going to get any work done at this point, too much else on her mind to even begin to focus on her story. With her headphones in and bag slung over her shoulder, (Y/N) made her way out of the lecture hall with a wave over her shoulder to Isla. 

The cool air outside did some good for her as she tried to clear her mind, feeling a little less trapped in the pit in her stomach with so much space around her in the quad. Now that she was alone, (Y/N) felt the urge for her eyes to fill with tears she'd been holding back for days. 

She was just so frustrated, and, god, her feelings were hurt. Why she had to field questions about the validity of her relationship at all was something she didn't understand. Then to add that the three opinions she was given this week weren't the most kind of comments that have ever been shared with her, she wanted to scream with the frustration in her bones. 

Yes, Harry was older than her, and that was where she needed the conversation to stop. She didn't need to hear about how she had been mistaken for being someone's daughter that held misplaced affection for Harry. She didn't need to explain that no, they didn't meet on a dating site with the express purpose of setting up arrangements between wealthy men and girls like herself. Everything extra she had to field and explain was pushing her into that dark, weeded corner in the back of her mind. 

Making it to her car, (Y/N) didn't have the strength to hold back her tears anymore. The tint of her windows shielded the glimmer of her tears as they fell down her cheeks, tracking through the light layer of makeup she applied that morning. Her lungs squeezed as she tried to breath through her sobs the same way her fists did at her sides.

They'd only been together for a little over half a year, and just barely scratched the surface of the kind of comments (Y/N) feared they would get until she was old enough that people didn't notice the gap between them. How much longer could she do this, if she was now sobbing in her car after only a couple of days worth of off-handed comments. 

Without much forethought, (Y/N) reached for her phone and pulled up Harry's contact.  

      i think that bug i had is coming back :( I felt a little better yesterday but today's been really hard so I don't think it would be a good idea to hang out tonight h im sorry:( I don't want to get you sick:( 

She locked her phone before she could see if he was crafting his own reply back or even read the message. She needed to be alone tonight, and that was all (Y/N) let herself focus on as she drove back home.

—————

Coming out of his meeting, Harry couldn't help but let his shoulders fall as he looked at (Y/N)'s text. She still wasn't feeling well? From what she told him yesterday, she was just about good as new. 

There was no way he was going to let her get away with a third day in a row of not feeling well without stopping by or doing his part to help her feel better. 

Typing out a quick reply, Harry told her he was sad to hear she still wasn't feeling good and that he missed her immensely as he mapped out his stop to the shops before rerouting himself to her apartment after he was done with work for the day. She didn't deserve to care for herself when he was perfectly capable of at least making her some dinner and helping her get to bed. 

And, call him selfish, but Harry couldn't wait to see her again.

—————

Armed with a plastic bag containing the ingredients to his favorite chicken soup his mom used to make him when he was young, and a bouquet of flowers he hoped would brighten her day, Harry knocked on the door to (Y/N)'s apartment. That familiar shuffling sound on the other side of the door sounded through the wood as he awaited her, a grin poking at he edges of his lips at the idea of finally seeing her again for the first time since Monday. 

By the time she opened the door with a creak, Harry's smile dropped as soon as it formed. 

(Y/N)'s eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, lashes bundled together in the fresh wetness that had seeped form her tear ducts. She halfway hid behind the door, peering at him with a quiver in her lip as she avoided his gaze. 

"What are you doing here?" 

While that wasn't exactly the greeting he had been hoping for when he decided to come over, he figured he shouldn't have set his standards up so high knowing that she was feeling sick. He had just hoped she hadn't felt so ill she had to cry over it. 

"Oh, sweetheart," Harry crooned as he gazed at her, taking a careful step forward with the toe of his boot edging over the threshold, "How are y'feeling?" 

"I'm alright," she sniffled, running a heavy hand through her hair, "I thought I told you I couldn't see you tonight." 

"I know, I jus' couldn't live with myself if I didn't come help you even a little. I brought some soup for you." The flowers he had bundled against his chest tickled underneath his chin as he readied to take over her kitchen for the night. 

When she hesitated and dropped her gaze to the floor, Harry felt his gut drop. 

"I think you should go home, Harry." 

The nasal tone of her voice accompanied the wobble of her lower lip as she spoke, her eyes flooding with a new set of tears. 

Reaching out with a reluctant hand, Harry reached for her as he tried not to step through the door no matter how badly he wanted to hold her. He didn't want to overwhelm her. 

"Sweetheart, I don't mind that you're sick, 's alright. Jus' let me take care of you, you're worrying me," he pressed. Just as his hand grazed her cheek, (Y/N) took a step back from him, widening the gap between them that was beginning to feel like a trench. 

The way (Y/N) looked up at him afterwards told him she was just as surprised that she had distanced herself. Harry didn't know what was worse: (Y/N) deliberately taking a step away from him when he tried to touch her, or her moving out of the way on instinct, her subconscious keeping him from touching her? 

"Harry, I-I think I need to be alone tonight." 

"(Y/N), really. I don't mind taking care of you, you kno—" 

"I'm not sick, Harry! I just... Let me be alone." 

Harry stood stock-still, shocked by her outburst. The way she curled up on herself afterwards, recoiling form her own words, could have broken his heart if it wasn't already on its way to being shattered from her second request for him to leave. 

"You're—I thought," Harry floundered, his hand with his bouquet of flowers dropping limply to his side, "Y'told me y'haven't been feeling well since Monday." 

Another heavy hand moved its way through her hair, a tug being administered to her scalp. "I know I did, I'm sorry. I just didn't know if I could talk to you af—" 

(Y/N) was cut off by the sound of her neighbour's door opening, a blonde haired girl walking down the hall with an awkward smile stretched on her face as she realized what she had just walked into. (Y/N) reciprocated as much as she could until her neighbour disappeared down the length of the staircase, that was when her smile dropped again. 

He knew she was feeling embarrassed as she stepped off to the side, widening the berth of the door for Harry to fit through. She gestured for him to step inside, though it lacked every bit of enthusiasm that he had grown accustomed to when he visited her. With the plastic bag crinkling at his side and the bouquet of flowers rustling in the wax paper they were wrapped in, Harry stepped through the threshold of her door, her apartment almost completely silent. 

Standing by awkwardly, Harry waited as she locked her door after him and padded her way to her living room where he stood. Swallowing around the lump in his throat, Harry glanced down at the flowers in his grasp. 

"These are for you, by the way," he murmured, offering her the bundle of white magnolias. 

With her gaze attached to the flowers, Harry watched as (Y/N)'s eyes welled up with a new batch of tears. She peeped out a thank you as she pulled the arrangement from his hand, padding off to her kitchen while Harry stood in silence. 

He didn't know what she was about to tell when her neighbor interrupted them, but he almost didn't want to know. Knowing that she hadn't been ill and was using that as an excuse to avoid him was enough to have him on edge already, he didn't want to know why she had been avoiding him in the first place. 

Relenting himself to sit on her couch, sinking into the stuffed cushion, Harry sat with his chin in his hand and elbows digging into his thighs. It felt like hours as he listened to her pull a vase from her cabinet, followed by the running water for the flowers. Normally he would be there helping her, teasing her as she reached for the vase and helping her arrange the blossoms in the water so every stem could take a dip. Not today, Harry guessed, he wasn't needed.

When she finally joined him, (Y/N) took a spot on the opposing chair set up in her living room, the stiff decorative pillow taking up most of the cushion as she sat on the edge. Shifting his chin in his hand, he gazed at her through his lashes as he waited for her to finish what she started. 

As the silence stretched on, Harry felt more and more cracks appear in his heart. He couldn't take much more of this, especially when she couldn't even muster the courage to look at him. What did she need to tell him that was so bad she couldn't even look at him for a second? 

Dropping his face into his hands, Harry slid his fingers through his curls, a startling pinch being delivered to the roots as he tightened his grip. "Why didn't y'want to talk to me, (Y/N)? What happened?" he grumbled out. 

A sniffle sounded from the chair, but he didn't have the heart to look up. It would only make it harder to hear what she had to say if he had to watch her cry, too. 

"Harry, I—" (Y/N) cut herself off, her thought dropping from her tongue before she had even bothered to finish putting it together, "I don't know how to tell you." 

Something bubbled in his chest as he heard her hesitance to speak to hm still, even as he sat right in front of her. Frustration welled up in his system. How was he supposed to make anything better, fix his mistakes that led to her avoiding him, or make her at least stop crying when she wouldn't even tell him what was wrong?! How was he going to have a chance to save them from whatever had dug itself in her mind when he had no idea what he was up against?!

Forcing a deep breath into his lungs, Harry shuttered his eyes as he kept his head down in his hands. The heels of his palms dug into his eyes as he waited, giving her one last chance to say anything before he would take over. 

With the sound of his blood rushing through his ears, Harry unclenched his jaw, "Start with why y'wanted to avoid me so bad y'pretended to be sick for almost three days." 

"It's not that simple, H—" 

"Then, what happened?! What did I do wrong?! You jus' keep sitting there, crying, but y'wont tell me what I did wrong or how to fix it!" 

By that point, Harry was grateful for the fact his eyes were closed as he pulled his head from his hands, chancing a look up at (Y/N) though that view was quickly distorted by his own round of tears that flooded his vision. Sniffing his nose, Harry scrubbed his hands over his eyes to rid himself of the tears, still too frustrated to worry about them when (Y/N) still hadn't explained. 

With her fingers a nervous bundle in her lap, (Y/N) broke with her bottle lip wobbling and eyes closed as if to stave off another round of crying. "It was when I vi-visted you at work." 

Nodding his head, Harry took in deep breaths, already regretting the way he snapped at her. "Okay, thank you," he started, softening his tone as he gave her to the full of his attention, "What happened?" 

(Y/N) shook her head as she ran her hand through her hair, rolling her eyes at herself. "It wasn't even that big of a deal, so I don't know why it's bothering me so bad," she rushed out, voice wobbling, "It was just... Seline? That receptionist on the lobby floor?" 

Harry nodded his head, beginning to worry at the mention of Seline. She could be a bit cold, that much everyone at the office knew. 

"She—I don't know, it was just weird when I talked to her. I know I wasn't on your permission list or whatever since I was surprising you, but she said something after she figured out that I was there to see you that's just stuck with me." (Y/N) swallowed, her eyes still facing the ceiling as Harry waited on her, his fingers prattling with his rings. "She... She said she didn't want to let me up at first because she wasn't sure if I was a daughter of one of your clients, coming to visit Mr. Styles after getting too attached over a busy dinner." 

Rolling his lips between his teeth, Harry nodded his head. Sounded like Seline, that was for sure. 

(Y/N) finally chanced a glance down at him then, feeling somewhat more calm now that she was getting everything out that had been rattling her brain for almost three days now. 

"Then," she continued, surprising Harry as he had just began devising some kind of plan to keep Seline from being so rude to people in the waiting area,  "I didn't realize that the Shelly on your floor was someone I go to school with." Harry sighed as he figured out where this was going. "She was really surprised to see me," (Y/N) muttered, fluttering her lashes as she tried to keep her waterworks at bay, "As soon as I told her I was your girlfriend, she got kind of weird and told me she didn't expect your girlfriend to be someone like me. When I asked her what she meant, she brought up this professor that used to work at my school, that everyone thought was really pretty, and was around your age, obviously. It wasn't that bad but after what I heard from Seline, it didn't really help.

"And then, today, I guess Shelly got brunch with the roommate of a girl in my creative writing class, and they apparently talked about how I'm dating Shelly's thirty year old boss, and the girl in my class asked if I met you on a sugar daddy website." 

Now, that stung. The other two comments she shared with him hurt him for the fact it was hurting (Y/N), cheap shots taken at their relationship that questioned the depth of it just because of the gap between their ages. But this one—the implication that their relationship was nothing more than Harry giving out money and gifts in exchange for (Y/N)'s company—took a stab at his heart. 

Harry knew what a relationship would look like to others the second he took a liking to (Y/N). That was why, other than wanting to maintain (Y/N)'s happiness and comfort in her friend group, he didn't pursue her. He knew that someone of his age and position financially wasn't supposed to mix with a college-age girl that had piled on student loans and worked as much as she could on the side to help pay for school. He knew that those two things could invite people to make comments or pull faces, he knew that. But, maybe they had just been lucky with how well it was going beforehand; their friends didn't mind, never once making a comment or raising a brow at the idea of the two of them together, along with his family being so supportive when he divulged details about his (Y/N), and even strangers on the street didn't give them a second glance. They had been successfully missing any of these comments up until this point, and, of course, it was (Y/N) who had to endure them. 

If he hadn't already felt like shit for yelling at her earlier, now he felt like he should go sit on the curb with the rest of the trashbins. 

Rising from his position on the couch, Harry moved to crouch in front of (Y/N). Instinctively, she spread her legs wide enough to allow him access to sit between. Settling his hands on either of her thighs, he waited on her to return to her living room with him, leaving the dark space of her head behind. 

"(Y/N)?" he murmured, squeezing the full of her flesh in his palms, "Look at me, love." 

Running her fingertips under her eyes, (Y/N) cleared her tears away before she looked down at him, her bottom lip trembling though she tried to hold it all back. "I'm sorry, Harry." 

"Hey, hey," he crooned, shaking his head, "Don't need to be sorry, okay? Don't need to apologize for what they said." 

"B-But, I shouldn't have stopping seeing you or talking to you over it," she countered, dropping her gaze to her lap though she didn't dare lace her fingers between his like she usually did, "I just didn't know what to do. I started to feel guilty." 

"What do you mean, pretty girl? Guilty over what?" 

"Li-Like I was holding you back or something," she whispered, the volume of her voice being the only thing that kept it from breaking, "I-I don't want you to mi-miss out on someone who might fit you better. Or, at least be able to handle something like this without avoiding you." 

Harry shook his head as he stood to his feet, reaching for her hands that were bundled into a fumbling mess as she kept them from grabbing for his. Wrapping his fingers around her wrists, he pulled her to stand up before he replaced himself in her seat. The decorative pillow was crushed under his weight, becoming an uncomfortable lump under his bottom but Harry didn't pay it any mind as he pulled (Y/N) to sit in his lap. Her legs hung over the side of his own, her shoulder pressed against his chest as he looped his arms around her, interlocking his fingers as they rested on her hip. 

"You've got to listen to me, (Y/N), 'kay?" Harry waited until he got a small nod from her, eyes meeting his through the frame of her lashes. "There's no one out there that could fit me better than y'do, do you hear me? I had some extra time before I ever even met you to meet this better fit, and I've never found anyone that comes close to the way y'make me feel. There's no one out there that would love me better than y'can, and I know that. Don't feel guilty over something that doesn't exist." 

"But—" 

"No, I told y'to listen to me, didn't I?" Harry stopped her, unwilling to hear her make up fake scenarios about someone who didn't exist. "It hurts knowing that these comments made y'want to avoid me, but I understand why because I understand you. Y'weren't trying to hurt me, y'jus' wanted some time to yourself to be a little mopey and figure it all out before y'saw me again—I understand. Right?" 

"Yeah," she peeped, her cheeks heating and eyes watering as she listened to him, "I didn't mean to hurt you, Harry." 

"I know, I know," he murmured, dropping a careful kiss to her cheek, his heart eased when she didn't flinch away. "And 'm not upset now that I know, okay? Don't need to be sad over that. And, 'm sorry I yelled at you; I got scared when y'wouldn't say anything, but I shouldn't have done that. We're a team and teams don't work when one of us is being mean." The small nod and I forgive you, that (Y/N) gave him allowed for a short smile to carve into Harry's lips before he grew serious. "I jus' need y'to be honest with me for a second, then." 

A short nod came from (Y/N) as her hands unraveled, finally relieving Harry as she curled her fingers around his forearm to keep him close. 

Swallowing, Harry tried to figure the best way to phrase any of his questions. "Do you...Did any of what these people said make y'doubt being with me?"

Her answer was immediate in the shake of her head, stray strands of hair fluttering around her face, "No, no, no. I love you so much, Harry, I just want you to be happy. I don't want you to be bothered one day when you realize I'm not at the same spot as you; I don't know all of those references you make and I can't take you out for fancy dinners the way you do for me. At least not until I'm out of school." 

"I don't—... None of that matters to me, okay?" he reassured her with a squeeze of his arms around her, "I don't care about any of that. I like getting to see y'grow and learn and I never expect you to pay me back for any of the things I do for you. I don't understand all of your little jokes, either, sweetheart, and I know that doesn't bother you, because you're like me in that way. We love being with each other, and that's what makes us happiest, so that's all that matters. Right?" 

A watery smile worked its way on her lips as she nodded her head. "Right." 

"See, sweetheart," he cooed, "As long as we're on the same page about that, we can get through anything, can't we?" He was rewarded with another short nod and quiet smile. "'M sorry that y'were the one that had to hear those things, and I want y'to know that y'never have to hide that from me again. Tell me and I'll help talk y'down, okay?"

"Okay." 

"Good girl," he praised her, even when she couldn't speak louder than a whisper and manage a smile bigger than the one on her lips if she didn't want her features to crumble. "'M always gonna help you, jus' need y'to tell me how. Can y'promise me that?" 

"I promise, Harry." 

"M'best girl, aren't you?" he crooned to her, dropping his face to nudge his nose again her own. Her smile grew as she took in his words, just as he wanted. "Can I kiss you, sweetheart?" he asked her the full of his lips brushing against her own. 

The quiet nod he gave him was all he needed before he pressing his lips in affectionate pecks all over her face, starting with her plush lips. With each dot of his lips over her skin, more and more bubbling giggles fell from (Y/N)'s smiling mouth, his grip on her tightening as she wiggled in his lap. The bridge of her nose was smothered in his love before he tapped over her cheeks with his lips. Her forehead wasn't spared in the carnage either, getting as many kisses as he could fit in the space until he had to drop his kisses to her eyelids. The salt of her tears was bittersweet as he tasted them on his kiss; sweet knowing that he was able to quell them, but the bitter taste lingered knowing that they started in sadness. By the time he made his way back down to her lips, she was smiling too big to pucker her lips against his. 

"Kiss me back, pretty girl," he murmured, his own amusement seeping into his tone no matter how hard he tried to keep it held back. 

That was all the encouragement she needed before (Y/N) was cradling his face in her hands and trying her best to kiss him through her smile. It was clumsy and off-center, not perfect by far, but it was easily one of Harry's favorite kisses he's ever shared with her. This was where all of her sweetness concentrated itself: in her kiss as she nudged her nose against his and breathed out giggles every time Harry pulled away. 

"I love you," she spoke against his kiss. 

"I love you too, sweetheart, always," he murmured, drawing away just enough to match his gaze to hers. "Me and you, remember?" 

The mantra he had repeated to her more than once brought a bright smile to (Y/N)'s face. 

"Me and you, H." 

—————