night thinker

She never thought she’d be feeling almost hurt over this. She didn’t want to. She wanted to forget about it and move on and show him that he couldn’t even touch her. But she can’t lie. She feels a little betrayed.Which is not something she was expecting either. And she feels stupid. Because how could she let him get to her like this? They’ve been “dating” for such a short time, she didn’t ever think that this would be something she’s thinking about. She was never supposed to kiss him. She was never supposed to want to kiss him even. It’s just business and she took it too far. 

Since Harry has been in so many meetings, all he can do at the moment is send her longing stares as he passes her desk. He can’t stop and talk to her because he’s so busy. And she’s so glad about it. Because if he would have talked to her after she left his office, he probably would have her right where he wants her again. And (Y/N) is not letting that happen. 

She wanted to leave for the day before his last meeting let out, but she’s not going to run from him. She has something to tell him actually and she’s not leaving until she does. So, she waited at her desk, scrolling mindlessly through her computer. She could be doing real work, but she doesn’t want to. It’s not worth it. And that work she could be doing would be work that would benefit Harry and she’s not in the mood for anything like that. 

When his meeting finally ended, she watched as he went into his office, probably to set his things down and then come back out here and try to apologize or explain himself. But she’s not in the mood for that either. 

She stood and walked right into his office and shut the door behind her. He turned, looking a bit surprised that she just came in. He probably didn’t expect her to come find him. She didn’t even close the door behind her because this is going to be short and sweet. 

“(Y/N). Can we talk—”

“I don’t want to help you anymore. And if that means firing me, so be it. I don’t want any part of it and that’s all I really have to say to you.” She wanted to storm out after saying that, but decided to be nice this once and give him the chance to say something. 

“You’re not even going to listen to me then? Is that it?” He’s still standing on the other side of his desk, expression completely neutral like he doesn’t even care. Like this conversation is just another task for him to check off his list. And it’s irritating and (Y/N) is getting really tired of him. 

“What do you have to say? I think I know exactly what happened.” She can admit that she’s not really being fair by not being willing to hear him out, but right now she doesn’t even want to look at him. She needs to get out of this office and away from him and think for just a moment. It feels like she’s suffocating. 

“You do? Then why the fuck would I ask you out on a date today if just last night I was messing around with Natalie? Doesn’t seem logical.” He shrugged it off again, making her all the more agitated. 

“I don’t know and I don’t care. I should’ve known you weren’t serious anyway. You're my boss. This shouldn’t even be a conversation we’re having!” He makes her want to rip her hair out. And with him acting so casual about everything makes her even more angry at him. He looked like he had so much to say all day, but when it comes down to it, he’s offering her nothing. 

“You agreed to be my girlfriend, (Y/N), for however long I needed. And now you want to back out?” She felt like screaming. That’s what he’s going with then. How fucking annoying. “And I meant it. Of course, I want to go on a date with you. I’d never lie about that.” 

“Well, it’s too late for that. Seems like you’ve got someone else to spend your free time with now.” She went to turn her back to him and leave, but he ended up right there, slamming the door shut over her shoulder before she could even touch the handle. It probably disrupted the whole floor and it probably looks like (Y/N) is getting a talking to, but it’s the other way around and she almost laughs at that. 

“You said Natalie called. What did she even say?” He’s holding the door shut, trapping her between himself and the door that clearly still has the blinds open so anyone can see them in quite the compromising position. 

“You tell me. You were with her last night.” He scoffed, pulling the string on the blinds to shut them. 

“Tell me what she said.” She huffed and leaned against the door to get as far away from him as she could. His hands are resting on either side of her shoulders now and she’s trying to ignore his body heat that is so close to her. Normally, she’d be melting into him by now, but she’s not going to give him what he wants at all. He doesn’t deserve it. 

“She wanted me to tell you that she had so much fun last night and to call her back. And that’s all I need to know.” She crossed her arms, watching as his eyebrows furrowed like he was confused. 

“She said we had fun? We had fun?” She hummed a yes, still looking unimpressed. “If her showing up at my house drunk at two am and me throwing her out is fun, then we had a fucking blast, (Y/N). Come on. You know better than that. We broke up so long ago. I haven’t spoken to her since.” 

He tried to set his hand on her cheek, but she jerked away from his touch, making him frown. He doesn’t know why Natalie called the office anyway. She has his cell number and would contact him there if she really wanted to tell him something like that. So, he’s a bit confused. And he just wishes (Y/N) would let him touch her.

She sighed, looking completely at a loss at what to do. He wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure what. Nothing happened last night. What did was exactly what he told her. 

He was sound asleep after taking (Y/N) home when his doorbell rang incessantly. So, he forced himself out of bed and down to his front door while half asleep and there stood Natalie. Clearly just came from a night out and clearly drunk. As soon as she saw him, her arms wrapped around his neck and she was telling him how much she’d missed him and how she thinks they should get back together. 

He didn’t let it get past there. He removed her arms from him and very sternly told her not to come back, he wanted nothing to do with her. He was nice enough to call her a cab because he had no idea how she got to his house in the first place. Then, he went back to bed and was set on coming into work in a few hours to see (Y/N) and tell her he wanted to take her on a date. Not anywhere his father would be, just them. And a lot more kissing. But now that those plans have been shot to hell, he’s trying his best to give her all the details and then let her decide. 

“I think that this is just a sign we shouldn’t be doing this.” That’s not what he wanted to hear at all. He figured she’d hear him out even if she didn’t want to and then she’d understand. But that just means he’s going to have to try even harder. 

“A sign? What are you talking about?” He hadn’t even noticed that his thumb was stroking her shoulder through her soft sweater, but she didn’t push him away. 

“We’ve been at this for a week and it’s already much more trouble than it’s worth.” He hates to see her look so sad. Like she really wanted it to work out, even if she didn’t agree with it in the first place. And now he’s kicking himself. He shouldn’t have even answered the door. Not like it would’ve mattered. Natalie might’ve called anyway and they would’ve been in the same predicament. 

“(Y/N). Please.” He doesn’t care about the pretending anymore, but it seems like (Y/N) is done with him altogether and he can’t take it. He’ll beg her on his knees again if he has to. He’ll spend every day there if that means she’ll give him another chance. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to do it anymore, Mister Styles.” She leaned away from his touch on her shoulder and he felt his heart cracking. He never thought he’d ever feel this way. Sure, she’s rejecting him now, but he still has a chance, right? Why does this feel so final? 

“Don’t fucking call me that, (Y/N).” 

“You can fire me or whatever you have to do, but I can’t be a part of this anymore.” He hates that she’ll barely listen to him. Nothing happened with Natalie. She’s being so cruel. 

“What am I supposed to do about my father?” He didn’t want to say it, but he’s so frustrated with her. And he doesn’t know how to actually say that in a way that will make her understand. So, instead, he decided to piss her off even more than she had been. 

“That’s not my business. I’m sure you’ll do just fine.” She went to reach for the door handle, but he stopped her, grabbing her wrist.

“You can’t. If I lose this, (Y/N), to fucking Steven, then I don’t know what I’m going to do. This will ruin everything if he knows we broke up.” And it sounds so selfish of him to be saying that when it doesn’t even matter at this point. The promotion doesn’t matter. He just wants (Y/N). But of course, he had to say something that was sure to get her to stay away from him for good. 

He could tell by the look on her face that she was done with him. She didn’t pity him, or sympathize with him at all. She just wanted to get away from him. 

“Just lie, Harry. Since you’re so fucking good at it.” She ripped her wrist away from him and this time he let her go. He’s sure that he’s ruined everything, even though he was trying his best to save it. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Harry sent her a text late that night saying her job was still there if she wanted it and he understood that she wanted nothing to do with him. Even though her job requires her to be beside him at least six hours a day. 

He was exaggerating the six hours a day, but she knows he’s a little dramatic anyway. And she’s glad that her job is fine because it would have been too much of a hassle to find another job and try to fit in somewhere else. She’d already made herself comfortable with Harry.

But his message didn’t sway her at all. It’s better this way. Even though he won’t look in her direction or directly speak to her, she knows that this is for the best. She’s not sure why he is not speaking to her, but she lets it go. It’s easier for her when he’s not trying to be charming. 

Still, in the mornings she’ll bring him a coffee and tell him how his day is going to be spent and he only nods at her, keeping his eyes glued to his computer. 

Basically, it’s getting old. It’s been a week and a half and he’s behaving like a child. But she’s not going to bring it up because chances are, he won’t care either way. And she’ll just look like an idiot running back to him after she told him no. So even though her days are boring now and almost back to normal save for the fact that he won’t talk to her anymore, everything is going smoothly. She’s not sure what the status is on Des retiring and she hasn’t seen him much around the office, but she knows it has to be coming soon. And she knows that Des knows that Harry is a hard worker. He’d keep the company in tip top shape. She wonders why Steven is in the running. Sure, he’s the CFO, another high up job, but that doesn’t mean he’s CEO material. Harry is. She can see it now. She wonders who the new COO will be, which will also be her boss since she’d still be the assistant to the COO. Des has his own assistant that she bets will be keeping their job as Harry’s new assistant. 

But she still has a job and she's grateful for that. No matter who she’s reporting to. She’s not going to complain. 

She just got back from lunch with Riley who she mentions none of this to. Riley did have questions about that time a few weeks ago in the lobby, but she just brushed it off as a joke. He was fooling around and it meant nothing more than that. She also picked up lunch for Harry and was set on leaving it on his desk before he finished his meeting, but it must have let out early because he’s sitting in his office now. She managed to dodge him all week during lunch. Not that he cared at all, but it was just one less awkward interaction between the two of them. But today, he’s behind his desk, staring at his computer and looking quite frustrated. She tries to avoid him when he looks like that. 

As soon as the bag was on the edge of his desk, she was booking it out of his office. She could feel his eyes following her the whole way back to her desk, but she didn’t bother looking back. It wouldn’t make a difference if she did. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Work has been torture lately and Harry can barely stand it. 

After he sent that message to (Y/N) telling her that she could keep her job, he thought that she might respond at the very least when he mentioned her wanting nothing to do with him, but she didn’t. So, he decided to leave her alone. If she wants nothing to do with him, then he’s going to do just that. 

But he hates watching her walk around the office and hand him coffees, but say nothing. He’s also guilty of not speaking, but he’s sure that’s what she wants. She hasn’t said otherwise, so he thinks he’s doing her a favor. And the worst part is that she acts totally unaffected. Like she doesn’t care that he can’t look at her without feeling his stomach drop. 

He sees her take lunch with Riley and she looks so carefree, like the past few weeks have meant nothing. Like the past three years meant nothing. He wants to talk to her more than anything, but he can tell she doesn’t want that. 

Not talking to (Y/N) doesn’t mean that he’s not watching her every chance he can get. His desk is sitting in the best place to be able to see her all day long. He watches her take phone calls for him, he watches her type on her computer, probably adding meetings into his schedule. He watches her as Steven stops at her desk and bothers her. She doesn’t look bothered in the least, but in his mind, she hates him just as much as he does. But then he sees her laugh with him and he has to get up and shut his door, pretending he has an important call to take. 

All of this just to say that Harry misses (Y/N) terribly. She’s been there at his side for so long, he never thought he’d spend a day without her. But it’s been over a week and while she still helps him where she’s needed, it’s not the same. He wishes he could’ve gone about this entire thing a different way. Sure, he still would have asked her to be his girlfriend just to keep his father pleased with him, but maybe things wouldn’t have turned so badly if he’d been genuine to begin with. 

His father is very happy with him now and he’s sure that he’ll be getting good news soon, but at what cost? He’s lost (Y/N), so nothing else matters to him at the moment. He can’t even be excited for what’s to come because she’s so far away now and it doesn’t look like she’s coming back anytime soon. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

(Y/N) was in the middle of taking a phone call with one of Harry’s close business partners. He wants to schedule dinner with him just to catch up. He’s a little older and very sweet to her always. She’s looking between Harry’s current schedule and a calendar to see when she can set the date, but suddenly, right in front of her is Des. And Harry’s a few steps behind him, nervously messing with his tie. 

She smiled at Des and held up a finger for him to give her a second. Once she found a date that worked for the both of them, she was hanging up the phone and trying her best to keep her eyes just on Des and not his son lingering behind him. 

“Hi, Mister Styles.” 

“Good afternoon, (Y/N). I was just asking Harry about you,” He glanced back at Harry and then right back to her. “He’s still being good to you, right?” 

She narrowed her eyes and then smiled, wanting to tell him right now what’s really going on, but she decided to save him once again. 

“Yep. He’s been so sweet to me,” She knew that Harry picked up on her tone, but Des didn’t. He just patted Harry on the shoulder and the conversation ended there. He walked off, having to go to a meeting and Harry still stood there, like he was waiting for something. “Is there something I can do for you, Mister Styles?” 

“Can I speak with you for a second?” He was rubbing the back of his neck, knowing that he was in a bit of trouble. She told him she wasn’t helping him anymore, but Des is still under the impression that they’re together. So, she’s certain that he didn’t tell him they “broke up.” 

“You already are.” He rolled his eyes, motioning for her to follow him. 

“I think we have something to discuss, (Y/N). Now, please.” Since he raised his voice, potentially for the entire floor to hear, she had to stand and follow him to not make things weird. So, she did and as soon as he had the door shut behind them, she was glaring at him. 

“You didn’t tell him?”

“(Y/N),” He sighed, sitting behind his desk and placing his chin in his hand. “I haven’t spoken to him about it yet. It’s so close to the day he’s going to decide. I’m sorry. I should be honest with him, you’re right. I’m sorry.” 

“You should be sorry. I told you I was done. You need to tell him tomorrow. Just tell him it’s not working out. I doubt that’s going to wreck your chances that bad. Blame it on me if you have to.” 

“I thought you told me I could just lie. You know. Since I’m so fucking good at it.” She rolled her eyes at that. She did say that, but she figured he’d just tell him it was over with since they’re barely interacting in the first place. 

“I changed my mind.” 

Harry is trying not to grin at the way (Y/N) is speaking to him. He’s just glad she’s saying anything at all. But she’s scolding him and he loves it when she does that. Even if she’s actually mad at him and has every right to be. 

“I don’t think you can do that. You already said you’d help me out.” He knows he’s being a bit of a dick about it, but that’s what’s so fun. He thinks that if he annoys her enough, she may just end up jumping his bones. Because he knows she wants to, she’s just being stubborn. 

“Mister Styles, it’s time to be professional again. Do what’s right.” And then she walked out, leaving him to stare at her until she made it back to her desk again.

Harry is certain that (Y/N) will come back around. In fact, she already is. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Harry carefully set his phone down on his desk and sat back in shock. He’s not surprised, but at the same time, he kind of is. He knew his father was just giving him a hard time about the position and would never choose Steven over his own son, but he had him scared for a minute. 

And now he’s out of his chair, making his way to the door of his office. It’s pretty late in the day, there’s not much going on anymore, but he’s hoping that a certain someone is still around so he can give them the news. 

When he opened his door, (Y/N) was gone from her desk. Probably left for the day. He doesn’t know why he thought she would be there, it’s dinner time. But he’d hoped she would just be wanting to stay late to get things done. 

He must have been lingering by her desk too long because one of the interns that helps (Y/N) out sometimes stopped beside him. 

“Oh, are you looking for (Y/N)?” She was a young girl, still in college, just starting the program. He’s not too sure what they do in the program because his father’s been running it, but he reckons he’ll be finding out soon. 

“Yeah, but she’s home by now I bet.” He shrugged it off. It can wait til tomorrow he guesses. Even though he’s practically buzzing with how good he feels right now. 

“She’s actually out to dinner with that Steven guy. Don’t tell her I told you, but I think they’re like an item now.” Harry did not mean to scare the poor girl with the way he suddenly turned to look at her, but she did take a few steps back. 

“What did you say?” She took another step away from him, nervously wringing her hands together. 

“T-That’s just what she told me, Mister Styles. I don’t—”

“Where?” 

It wasn’t long before he was collecting his things and hurrying down to the parking garage. He’s livid. Absolutely livid. Out to dinner with Steven? Alone? He’s sick to his stomach and so, so, so angry. 

He’s not sure what he’s going to do when he sees them sitting together, but it’s not going to be pretty whatever it is.

The drive to the restaurant was longer than he’d like it to be. Since it is dinner time, there was quite a bit of traffic he had to sit through. And it’s a Friday night. The possibilities are endless. Steven could be thinking terrible things right now. Like how he thinks he’s going to bring (Y/N) home with him. Something that’s never going to happen. 

When he finally made it within walking distance of the restaurant that Steven is holding (Y/N) captive at, he just parked. It was three blocks away, but he couldn’t stand being in the car anymore. He was walking as fast as he could, just short of a run, when he made it to the doors of the restaurant. He’s been here plenty of times, the staff knows him well, so they’ll just let him in without batting an eye. 

(Y/N) couldn’t be more bored. All Steven wants to do is talk about work and she had just worked an entire week and wanted to think about anything other than that place. Because work is where Harry is and he’s the last thing that should be on her mind right now. 

He’d tried to be extra nice today and got her coffee instead which was a first. But it was exactly what she liked from the little shop across the street. He’s really trying to get back on her good side, but she’s not quite ready for that yet. 

Back to Steven. He keeps staring down at the top of her dress and it’s making her feel a little self-conscious about the amount of cleavage it’s showing off. It’s not inappropriate or anything, but she didn’t wear the dress for him. She didn’t wear it for anyone really… it’s just for fun. She wanted to dress up and have a nice night at a restaurant that she’s always wanted to try. Steven does have good taste when it comes to food, but after everything she’s learned so far about him in the thirty minutes she’s been at the table with him, it pretty much ends there. 

She only agreed because she needed to do something other than sit at home and sulk. That’s all she’s been doing ever since things went bad with Harry. It’s almost like a break up, but it’s not even close to that. She just wishes she could feel normal and her thoughts weren’t consumed by him all day, every day. 

(Y/N) is really looking forward to the check coming. At least the food has been good so far. 

Harry waved to the hostess before scanning over the dining area looking for (Y/N). And when he caught sight of Steven leaning a little too close to her for his liking, he was walking straight in their direction. (Y/N)’s back was to him, thank god, so all he could see was Steven attempting to sweet talk her and that made him even more angry. He stopped right at their table and watched as (Y/N) looked up at him and then her jaw dropped. She said nothing though and Steven was the first to speak up. 

“What are you doing here? Can’t you see we’re in the middle of a conversation?” He hates the smug look on his face. He hates that Steven thinks he won despite losing the position. But if he really thinks about it, Steven sitting at dinner with (Y/N) on a Friday night does sound a lot like he won. Even if he’s not the next CEO. And that makes his teeth grit together. 

“Get up.” Harry’s not sure what his motivation is in getting him to stand up, but he’ll figure that out when he gets him away from (Y/N) and around the corner. 

“We’re having dinner, I’m not—”

“I need to speak with you, Steven. Get up right now or I’ll make you.” Steven scoffed, not seeming to believe him until Harry’s hand was wrapped around the collar of his shirt and he was hauled right out of his chair. Everyone in the restaurant looked when his chair scraped loudly against the flooring, but Harry didn’t even flinch. (Y/N) looked embarrassed, but still didn’t say anything while he dragged him out of the dining room and towards the restrooms back by the kitchen. 

“What is your problem?” Steven shoved him off as soon as they were out of sight, looking a bit disheveled now.

“No. What is your problem? How many times have I told you to leave her alone? She wants nothing to do with you.” Harry considers punching him, but knows that he’ll be hearing from HR on Monday morning, even if it didn’t happen at work and he can’t afford that right now. 

“Sure about that? I asked her out and she gladly agreed. Even got all dressed up and pretty for me.” So far in his twenty nine years of life, Harry hasn’t once contemplated homicide like he is right now. He’s got an entire plan forming in his mind. It would be so easy. Too easy to wipe Steven off the face of the earth for even saying that. But he doubts (Y/N) would like him in orange, so he tries to reel back in his composure. 

“(Y/N) is my girlfriend.” He has no right to be using that excuse, but anything to get Steven away from (Y/N). 

“Then why did she want to go to dinner with me?” He paused, his smug expression returning. “You can save that, by the way. I know dating (Y/N) was just a scheme to get in good with your dad. You don’t even deserve to be CEO. I’ve been here way longer than you and have better experience and you cheated anyway. I wonder how Des would feel if he knew that part.” 

“It was going to me anyway. It’s my father’s company, why would he pass it off to a nobody?” He can see why Steven is mad, but how mad can he really be? It was never going to be him. 

“Sure. But I have to ask. How did you like that little visit from Natalie?” He froze. “I was onto your game from the beginning. (Y/N) would never date you in the first place. If you can pull strings, so can I. But you still got CEO, so I guess it was all for nothing, huh?” He laughed like he didn’t completely ruin his chances with (Y/N). 

So, he was the reason that Natalie showed up out of nowhere. They broke up for a reason and not one that would have her coming back to him. It was suspicious from the beginning and now it all makes sense. Harry isn’t sure what Steven’s intentions are with (Y/N). From what he can tell, they’re not good, so doesn’t know why he even bothers. Is it just to piss him off because that’s ridiculous. He’s not sure why (Y/N) agreed to go to dinner with Steven. He knows that she doesn’t care for him, he can tell. 

“Leave her alone. I won’t ask again.” He doesn’t want Steven anywhere near (Y/N). She’s just a pawn he uses to get to him and it’s not fair to her at all. Plus, he hates his guts and wants to fire him from the company. That will be in the works in a few short weeks and he has no idea. 

“Thanks for the suggestion. Now if you’ll excuse me—” Harry grabbed him by the shoulder and stopped him from leaving. 

“You’re not going back to that table.” 

“And you think she wants you there instead?” He chuckled. “You’re out of your mind. She wants nothing to do with you.” He moved right out of the hold on him and went back to the table. Harry followed right after. (Y/N) looks irritated, but he’s going to ignore that and make her come talk to him. 

He stood in front of her again and she shook her head. He figured that the last thing she wants to do right now is talk to him, but he’s not leaving until she does. And if he has to do it right here, right in front of everyone, he will. If it gets the point across. 

“What more do you have to say? Leave.” He held his hand out for her. 

“Please. I just have to ask you something.” He wasn’t going to start with scolding her for coming out with Steven. He’ll save that. Right now he just needs to get her away from the table so they can talk in private. 

“I don’t care.” 

“(Y/N), please, sweetheart.” 

She huffed, pushing her chair out so she could stand, completely ignoring his hand. He expected that though and was just glad she was willing to talk to him again. 

“I’ll make this quick Steven. And then we can go back to your place.” Harry is a thousand percent certain she only said that so he could hear it because judging by the look on Steven’s face, he wasn’t expecting that at all. But he kept quiet until they were tucked into the corner of the restaurant, far enough away that no one would hear. 

“Are you kidding me, (Y/N)? Him?” He couldn’t stomach the thought of them together, so he tried to focus on something else. That ended up being the tiny dress she decided to wear tonight. It fit to her body too perfectly and again he’s certain that this was all done intentionally. Because why would she wear that for dinner with Steven? 

“What? He asked me out to dinner. Why should I say no?” He doesn’t want it to seem like he’s angry with her, but he might be a little bit. He just wants to know if this is all for show. 

“Um, because I hate him.” She rolled her eyes. 

“What does that have to do with me?” He doesn’t know how many times he has to tell her. He feels like Steven is his sworn enemy. Everyone in the office probably knows it by now, but (Y/N) is just being stubborn. She’s supposed to be on his side. She’s his assistant, Steven needs to find someone else’s life to ruin. 

“Thought you were my best girl, (Y/N).” She punched his shoulder and he tried his hardest not to laugh. He knew that would push her over the edge. 

“Fuck you, Harry. Why do you even bother—” She went to walk off back to the table, but he grabbed her wrist, pulling her right into his chest. And this time he held her waist and it felt so good to have her so close again after so long. She tried to push against his chest to get him away, but he wasn’t letting up. 

“I bother because I care about you, (Y/N). I can’t take this anymore. Please, just talk to me.” He’d get on his knees right now if he was anywhere else and try to persuade her that way, but he doesn’t want to cause more of a distraction than he already has. 

“Yeah, right. You don’t have to do this anymore, okay?” 

“So, you’d rather be here with him?” He gestured back to the table where Steven was impatiently waiting for her to return. 

“I don’t know. It’s just dinner and it’s none of your business.” She tried to push him off of her again, but he wasn’t budging. If he lets her go now, he doesn’t know the next time he’ll be able to have her like this. 

“You’re never going to guess what he did. He set me up. He somehow got Natalie to come over to my place and then call and mess everything up. Nothing happened with her, love. You have to believe me.” 

(Y/N) can tell how upset Harry is over this. And she does believe him about Natalie. Well, the part where he said nothing happened. She’s not sure about Steven’s involvement yet, but she trusts Harry. If he says it happened, it probably did. 

“I do believe you, Harry. But that’s not the point anymore. I just don’t think with you being my boss it would be the best idea. I’m sorry.” She watched him as he listened. First, overjoyed that she believed him about Natalie and then frowning again. 

“It’s not a big deal. No one will say anything to you, I’ll make sure. If that’s what you’re worried about.” She shook her head again. 

“It’s unprofessional. We shouldn’t.” He grabbed her hands in his and squeezed. 

“I’m just asking for another chance. If . . . If I mess it up again, I’ll leave you alone, I swear. I just need one more. Please.” While he was so sweet about it and sincere, she just couldn’t look past him being her boss. And now he’s the CEO. She doubts that will make her look too good either. No matter how she feels about him, sometimes you have to do things you don’t want to. 

“I’m sorry.” She pulled her hands out of his, watching as his expression dampened further. 

“Then why him, hm? What does he have that I don't? I thought we were doing better.” She can tell he’s feeling a bit irritated again. She guesses it’s from being told no again. He really can’t handle that. And as for them doing better, they’ve really only talked a few times since Des showed up at her desk, but he must count that as progress.

“It’s one dinner. And we’re fine. It’s not about that. This has nothing to do with you.” The only reason she’s out right now is to make him jealous. And while her plan did backfire a bit because she did pay the intern Megan to casually mention to Harry that she was out at dinner with Steven, she never thought he’d show up and demand to speak with her. Much less ask for another chance. She just wanted to watch him sulk throughout the office on Monday. Not this. 

“You just told him you’re going home with him.” He brought up, making her mentally groan. That is so not happening. It’s all just a part of her game. 

“So?” 

“So? (Y/N), he set me up!” 

“You tried to use me to set everyone else up too. I guess you really aren’t that much better than him, are you?” She knew he would hate hearing that and that’s exactly why he looked at her like he couldn’t believe she’d said that. 

“You know you’re lying now. You don’t have to sit here with him to try and prove a point. Come on. I’ll take you home.” He started searching his pockets for his keys like she was just going to hop on his car and let him take her home after this disastrous night. 

“I am going home with him and there’s nothing you can do about it.” He stopped what he was doing and stared at her. 

“Nothing I can do about it? Sweetheart, I’ll carry you out of here over my shoulder. I don’t mind.” While the idea did seem appealing, she’s not giving into him. 

“Just leave us alone, Harry. We’re trying to have dinner and you’re interrupting and causing a scene.” He took a second to glance over at Steven who was now watching them. He wanted to give him the finger, but he stopped himself. If this is what (Y/N) wants, there doesn’t seem to be much he can do right now. 

“You know. I had some news to share with you. Came out to your desk to tell you, but instead you were here with him,” He paused, still trying to comprehend that because what the fuck is going on? “I got the promotion.” 

She knew it already, but she was still happy for him because it was something he was working towards. She was certain that Des would’ve given it to him anyway. Even if he hadn’t been “dating” her. 

“I’m glad you got what you wanted, Harry. Congratulations.” She almost wanted to touch him but stopped herself. She’s sure he wouldn’t like that much now. 

“Yeah.” He couldn’t even look at her. She hated it, but she guesses she won’t have to see much more of him if he’s moving to a higher floor and changing positions. And she couldn’t bear to watch him walk away, so she turned her back to him first, hurrying back to the table and sitting in front of Steven once again. 

She dared to look in his direction again and he was already gone. She had been excited to try this restaurant when Steven offered, but now she can’t even look at her plate without feeling sick. 

Her night ended by having to force Steven away from her front door. She told him that she wasn’t interested at least three times while he was taking her home, but he didn’t seem to get the memo. It was annoying and when she finally got him to leave, she undressed and showered and laid in bed. She hopes that Harry knows that she’s not sleeping with Steven tonight. Even though it shouldn’t matter. She figured she might even receive a call from him tonight, demanding to know if Steven was over, but her phone was quiet all night until she eventually fell asleep. 

She just has to remind herself that this is for the best and everything will be okay in the end. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Monday morning had been the subject of (Y/N)’s nightmares over the weekend. She tried to imagine all the scenarios. The good and the bad. The good: Harry already left the floor to go to his father’s level and he’s never going to speak to her again. The bad: Harry already left the floor to go to his father’s level and he’s never going to speak to her again. She’s sure that that’s exactly how this is going to go. It’s so much easier for him. He can just forget about her. 

The new COO will be in by the end of the week and that’s who she’ll be working with now. It was an outside hire, so (Y/N) has no idea who her new boss will be. 

She also has no idea what she’ll be doing for the week seeing as there really won’t be anything for her to do with Harry gone. 

When she reached her desk, she saw that he was still in his office. Like normal, but she could tell he had already gathered his things and probably moved them to his new office. She forced herself to look away. She hates to say it, but she’ll miss him being there. He was great and always watched out for her. But things just got too complicated and they’re both to blame. 

Steven did stop by her desk at one point during the day, but she tried to act like she was busy and had something to do. He had to get back to work, so it didn’t last too long thankfully. 

She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do today. It’s nearly lunchtime and Harry hasn’t come out of his office since. She doesn’t know if she’s supposed to get him lunch still or not. But since he’s technically not the COO anymore, she probably shouldn’t. She decided to tell Riley that she wasn’t in the mood for going out to lunch today, so she stayed at her desk, trying to distract herself from looking into his office.

The blinds are open and she can see him working at his desk if she looks. It’s hard not to. He looks like such a CEO today. His suit is gray and crisp, at least from what she can see, and—she really needs to get a grip. She’s the one that told him it was over and now she’s thinking about how good he looks today? It’s unfair. 

Why is she so concerned with doing what’s best? It’s really ruining her time at work. Nothing is fun anymore because she has to be worried about what’s professional. But it’s too late now. 

“(Y/N)?” 

She practically jumped out of her seat at the sound of his voice. She wasn’t sure she’d ever hear him say her name again. When she looked over at him, he was standing in the doorway of his office with his hands in his pockets, looking a little dejected. 

“Yes, sir?” She tried to keep her voice from shaking, but she knew he could tell just what her reaction was. 

“I need to speak with you.” She didn’t respond, she just stood up and walked until she was in front of him. He gestured for him to come inside his office and shut the door behind her. She’s feeling a bit nervous because she doesn’t know what he has in store for her this time. 

She watched as he walked around his desk slowly, like he was drawing out whatever is supposed to be happening. She really just wants him to get it over with. 

“Is everything okay?” She couldn’t stand not speaking. He looks like he’s thinking very hard about something and she can’t tell what. 

“I’m sorry, (Y/N), but you’re fired.” 

Every part of her body froze. He’s firing her. Right now. And despite trying to keep her emotions under control, she can feel tears forming in her eyes. Why would she cry? It’s just a job. But what will she do now? 

“What?” She could only whisper her response, barely being able to find her voice to speak at all. 

“Someone else will be filling the position of assistant to the new COO next week,” He reached for something behind his desk and passed her a cardboard box. “You can pack your things and I’ll escort you out.” 

(Y/N) couldn’t even look at him. She just grabbed the box from him and walked to her desk. She hopes that no one on the floor can see that she’s just seconds from crying. She doesn’t want Harry to see her either. She used one of the tissues on her desk to wipe under her eyes before placing the picture frame and the few knick-knacks on her desk. She didn’t have much in the first place because she has to leave all the files here since they’re not hers anymore. 

By the time Harry strolled over to her, she was really fighting to hold back tears. She doesn’t care if he can see anymore. He stopped right beside her and took the box right from her hands. 

“Ready?” 

She could only nod before she followed him off the floor and towards the elevator. Of course, he’s the CEO now, he can do whatever he wants. If he wants to fire her because he thinks she doesn’t fit in anymore, then he can. She won’t even be seeing him every day, so it’s not a big deal. Finding a new job will be a little tough, but she’ll get through it like she always does. 

The elevator doors closed and she shut her eyes, wanting to calm down a bit before their big goodbye. He could just leave her stranded on the sidewalk, but he’s not that mean. She knows he’ll have something to leave her with. 

But instead of the elevator going down, she felt it start going up. She looked at Harry immediately, but his casual demeanor didn’t falter. It was a long ride up to one of the top floors that she’s never really been on before, so when the doors opened, it was like she was in a totally different world. 

Everything was much more pristine than it is on lower floors. Not that those aren’t nice, but there’s something about the CEO floor that’s just a bit nicer. The waiting area has a nice view of the city and cozy looking chairs. There’s even a receptionist. 

Harry turned to go down one of the long carpeted hallways and she just followed, feeling so lost. At the end of the hallway, he turned and there was an office with his name on the door, much more private than the one he had before. 

A few feet away from his door sat a vacant desk. He stopped right beside it and set the box down on top. 

“What is going on Harry?” She feels like crying anyway because she’s so confused. He put his hands back in his pockets and sighed. And then he smiled. 

“You’re now the assistant to the CEO. Hope you don’t mind, but you don’t really have a choice. You’re mine.” (Y/N) never wants to resort to violence, ever, but this time, just like the time at the restaurant, she can’t help slapping his shoulder with everything she has. He winced while rubbing his arm. 

“You are the worst! Do you know that? I’m halfway to tears because you wanted to be funny. I don’t…I don’t even know if I wanted to work for you anymore.” She crossed her arms, feeling all the tears that had been waiting to fall begin gushing down her face. Harry stepped in instantly, holding her face in his hands and pouting down at her. 

“Sorry, sweetheart. Forgive me?” She didn’t even bother pushing his hands away, it felt so good to have him touching her again. 

“No.” 

“What did you think I was gonna do? Leave you all the way down there while I’m all the way up here? No way. Now get settled in, we have a meeting to get to.” He wiped her cheeks dry with his thumbs and then kissed her temple. 

“You could’ve just said that instead of making me think you were firing me. I can’t sit through a meeting right now, Harry, I need to think about this.” She sat down in the chair behind the desk that was apparently supposed to be hers now and he slid behind her to set his hands on her shoulders. And then he squeezed. 

“(Y/N). Know you love me, now please just relax and put your things away and we’ll get lunch. What do you say?” She turned around to glare at him. 

“You think I love you?” 

“I don’t think, I know. That’s why I said it.” 

“You’re delusional. You really are.” He laughed, spinning her chair around to face him. And then he sank to his knees, putting himself right where he knows she wants him. This time he rested his chin on her knee and looked up at her with the most pitiful face he could manage. 

“I need you, (Y/N). I’m sorry for all the shit I’ve put you through, but forgive me.” 

“You’re annoying.” 

“Does that mean you forgive me?” 

“Not even close. You’re really going to have to make it up to me. I hope you know that.” 

(Y/N) can’t take it anymore. How long was she supposed to hold out anyway? He’s right here in front of her, practically begging for another chance. After all that he’s put her through. Would she be crazy if she was considering it? Nothing too far, just the forgiving him part. Even if she can barely stand the sight of him on his knees again without her taking advantage of it. 

“I’ll spend every day trying to make up for it if that’s what you want,” He grabbed her hand that was resting in her lap and pressed a kiss to the top of it. “Is there anything I can do specifically that will help my chances?”

“Not out here in the open, no.” (Y/N)’s trying really hard to hold back a grin because of the face he just made. Surprised, but also something else entirely. 

“What does that mean? You mean like…you and me in my office with the door shut?” He’s getting ahead of himself, but he doesn’t care. If that’s what she’s implying, he doesn’t want to miss his chance. 

“No,” She paused. “Well, maybe. But you’d have to be really, really quiet. Think you can do that for me, sir?” He blinked like he was in a daze. 

“You mean me being your boss doesn’t bother you?” Sure, she was a bit concerned before, but that was before she had the weekend to think about it. She thought about how he wasn’t going to be in his office six feet away from her anymore. How she wouldn’t run and get his lunches anymore or bring him coffee in the mornings. Or sit right beside him in meetings and have to force him to pay attention to what’s going on. And in thinking about all of that, she realized that there wasn’t much she could do without him. Work would be hard, seeing him only in passing would be hard, existing would be hard. Maybe that’s dramatic, but it’s true. She doesn’t think she’d make it without him. 

“Can you just shut up and take me into your office already?” He’s wasting time and she can’t stand to do that anymore. It’s been too long and she wants him now. 

Harry knew that firing (Y/N) and then turning around and forcing her to be his assistant as CEO would have her mad at him, but he never expected this. But he’s not going to ask too many questions because he likes the direction they’re going in now. It’s what he’s been dreaming about for the past month. 

“Will you let me take you out to dinner?” 

“I’ll think about it.” 

“Sounds good to me. After you, sweetheart.” 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

damn. i did not read over this again before posting so if there’s anything weird lol. also i could not figure out where to end this so here it is. enjoy pls :) and i’m so so sorry this is so late but technically it’s still night for me sooo….😁 and i think i got everyone in the tags but if i didn’t let me know!

next up is the dad’s bsf type thing!! 👀

tags: @vamprry @1un4zsq @marzhshaim @sunflowersloverr @tenaciousperfectionunknown @caynonmoondreams @elidoho @peterbenjaminparke07 @daydreamingofmatilda @poesietoujours @annesauriol @0nlythrowharrybeaux @indierockgirrl @stylesmoonlight12 @awesomenavy @littlenatilda @iamjustaholeforyousir @creativelyeva @kissitnhekitchen @crybabyddl @lostincrowd @kathb59 @tiaamberxx @hstyleswiftx @hookedonromance @royalexperiment256 @foreverxholland @j1m3na @bluegreencolorsflashin @prettydeliliah @mylittle-flower-loves @noelyccf @icecoldtires-interacts @amberbambridge @daphnesutton @tobegoodisgood @ivorygowns @be-with-me-so-happily @malf-azx @esposa-do-harry

It was so surreal having dinner with Harry’s mom and sister. They were a delight. She could see where Harry got his charm, his lovely looks, and just his wonderful personality. He was touchy, but not inappropriate. She insisted she help with dinner, and he pressed a hand to the middle of her back while she worked on getting the plates from her cabinet for the table. Immediately, she could feel her brain returning to normal functionality. While they spent a good hour on the beach kissing and holding one another watching the sunrise, the thought of leaving him for any extensive amount of time after she just fucked herself on his leg made her extremely disoriented.

Harry pressed a kiss to the back of her neck as he hovered beside her while she helped him cook the fish on the grill. “Y’look so pretty,” he said. She did change despite all three of them saying it wasn’t necessary, just a black tank top tucked into a pair of jean shorts to make her feel a little more presentable. It was by far the most boring look on the planet, but she liked the fact that Harry thought she was pretty. She tried not to blush too much, and she really didn’t want to overwhelm his family with their PDA. Even though she really wanted to wrap herself around him like a koala to a tree.

When they sat down to eat, Harry sat beside her, resting his hand on her knee, drawing small little circles along her skin. Anne complimented both her cottage and Harry’s. She thanked her no less than thirty times for letting them intrude for dinner. She already, insanely, adored Anne. She reminded her so much of her own mom who she missed a lot during the summer months, when no one wanted to set foot around this town. “Are you going to watch the sunset later?” She asked.

“That was the plan. And then ice cream of course,” Harry smirked.

“Oh, please come with us!” Gemma cheered. She loved Gemma too. It was effortless. Everything about Harry entering her life seemed so effortless. Gemma was so funny and lovely. She thought Harry must have had the best childhood with a sister like her in his life.

“I really don’t want to intrude,” she said kindly.

Both women rolled their eyes. “Like Harry made us intrude on you for dinner? Please,” Anne scoffed. “We want you to.”

She glanced at Harry who simply smiled at her, delight dancing in his green eyes waiting for her answer. “You’ll all need sweatshirts,” she told them.

*

Gemma and his mum walked out a bit on the tidal flats to get some more pictures at different angles. She and Harry stayed put in the lifeguard stand once more. “Thank you for dinner,” he murmured in her hair. This time he made no fuss about getting as close to her as possible. He felt better having as much physical contact with her as allowable. Harry was situated on the actual seat of the stand while she sat on the floor of it, between his legs. He leaned forward to kiss the top of her head and speak to her.

“Thank you. I’m sorry—”

“Shh,” he hushed. “Nothing t’be sorry ‘bout.”

He played with her hair letting his fingers get caught in the waves and gently tugged through them to avoid it knotting and hurting later when she needed to brush it. He spotted his sister taking a picture of the pair of them, but he didn’t bring it to her attention. Instead, he focused on her hair, mindlessly braiding it. “Are you braiding my hair?” She giggled.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You are...” she sighed and tilted her head back a bit. “I’m very glad I met you.”

Harry wanted to sleep in the same bed as her. He didn’t even care if anything sexual happened. He just wanted to be as close as humanly possible to her. Unfortunately, his mother and sister were totally killing the vibe tonight for that to happen. “They leave in the evening, the day after tomorrow,” he murmured. “Then I want t’kiss y’on every surface of Sea View. And watch another sunrise with you.”  She shuddered, nodded mutely. His voice was utterly dreamy. She immediately clenched her thighs together for some relief. He inhaled sharply. “If y’clench those pretty thighs together in front of me again, love, m’gonna have t’fuck you before they leave, and I don’t know how we’ll manage t’hide that.”

It took every bit of self-control in her not to do it again. He was a little bossy. It made her ache of course between her legs and she honestly thought of doing it just to spite him. Just so he could figure out how he could fuck her without letting his family know. Make him sweat because it seemed entirely unfair that she would have to use her own fingers before falling asleep tonight instead of his thigh...or his dick.

“Did I go too far?” He asked quietly. He sounded concerned, but not quite remorseful. She was pretty sure he knew why she was silent, and he was just trying to make her a little crazier. He slid his hand down her arm, grabbing the elastic from her wrist because not once did he stop his fingers from braiding her hair. Saying salacious things but continuing the sweet gesture. The dichotomy of his personality was overwhelming.

“I’m getting an ice cream cone just so you have to watch me lick it,” she whispered.

He groaned and dropped his face to her neck, tugged her around the waist so she was in his lap. She could feel the bulge of his dick pressed against the back of her thighs. “Can’t believe I invited them.” She smiled and dropped to the side of his lap, draping her legs across his lap so his erection was covered but she wouldn’t tease him—even though she wanted to. “Didn’t know I was going t’meet the goddess of the sun on m’vacation,” he mumbled. “Never would have invited them.”

She laughed and shook her head at him. “You’re something else, Harry.”

*

He spent the entire day away from her and it felt like agony, especially since the only relief he got between his legs was his hand in that outdoor shower where he imagined her licking him the same way she licked her ice cream cone the night before. At least his brain was functioning better.

I refilled your grill, so it’s all set if you need it. :) She messaged him around lunch time.

Come to the beach. He answered in response.

Enjoy your family, Harry.  She sent a kissing emoji.

I can’t stop thinking about your mouth.

Harry.

Please, love. Want you so bad.

Shhh...

“Are you texting her?” Gemma asked. Anne was down by the water, collecting shells and Gemma was reading her book, glancing up at Harry from the rim of her sunhat. She already knew the answer was yes because Harry couldn’t hide the absolute delight on his face.

There was no use trying to lie. He could feel his face smiling like a moron at the screen of his phone. She gave them her umbrella for the day and all the sunscreen she had. The unending kindness she had was admirable and he was so grateful to have met her. “Gemma, I think m’going t’fall in love with her.”

“I think you already are, you dummy,” she rolled her eyes. That was accurate. He probably was. “Just...be careful. I feel like neither of you are thinking about how you leave in a week, and you live in different parts of the state,” she reminded him. “I adore her. That’s not the problem. I just don’t want distance to hurt you...either of you.”

Harry hadn’t really thought of it like that. He’d been too focused on this bubble of salt air and love at first sight. He had been teaching at the same school for the last two years after being at two different schools prior. He loved where he was in his career, but if it meant he could be with her? He would apply to any school necessary. He’d have to wait and see where the week went, he supposed. He was sure they could do long-distance. They had all the same breaks and things to map out time for one another.

They’d always have the summer, too—he knew where she’d be.

“Do you want t’go in the water?” Gemma asked. “Mum looks like she has all the shells on the beach in her arms.”

Harry chuckled. “What’s she even collecting them for?” He asked, grabbing Gemma’s hand to help her up from her chair.

“She’s got some wreath vision in her head,” she shrugged as they headed toward the ocean. “Think she saw it in Better Homes and Gardens last month.” He nodded and scooped up his sister the second she was off guard, just as their toes hit the water, and he hurried out further to toss her into the waves. She spluttered as she came to the surface, and he was laughing. She splashed him and gave him a big wet hug. “I don’t know what that girl sees in you.”

*

Given that she was literally at the beach at the same time, Harry (and his family) insisted she sit with them on their last day of their visit. They chatted the whole day about almost everything and anything. She could see where Harry got his easy-going vibe. It was as easy to talk to them as it was with Harry. He rubbed lotion on her back, so she didn’t burn, and continued to find ways to touch her without being over the top. He brushed sand from her temple after she laid on the blanket beside him, so it wouldn’t get in her eye. Whenever they were near each other, he constantly pressed a hand to her hip in an effort not to be in her way as they reached for things out of the cooler.

Harry felt so much less tense than he had the day before. She spent their time apart running errands and letting Harry have a fun-filled day with his family. Being in her presence made him so instantly happy. It was impossible to believe he could fall so hard and so quickly. He truly wondered what was in the salt air that made his heart overtake all brain function.

Gemma shared at least three different fish recipes and vegetarian meals with her. “It’s hard to cook for us, I know,” she smiled.

“It’s not bad, I just run out of ideas. I am just very boring, and only like plain boring fish. Or salmon. That’s it.”

“That’s plenty, honestly. Don’t feel bad. I miss chicken teriyaki every day,” Gemma nodded.

Anne smiled at Harry from across their space while the two girls huddled over the jewelry, she got from a specialty shop in town. “Let me make a call and see if I can get us in. They’re very particular, but I know the owner,” she smiled. “We’ll have to leave early though; I don’t want to cut your beach day short.”

“No, that’s okay. Harry was going to take me to the shop you told him about with the sweatshirts?” Anne said.

“Oh, not fair! I want to go!” Gemma pouted.

“We could probably do both, but you may just wait a long time at the shop,” she explained. “There’s always so many people.”

Anne and Gemma shrugged. “You go to a tourist location, you’re going to deal with tourists,” she smiled.

Harry just watched all three women strategize showering and getting ready to go run their errands. She made her phone call and proudly stated they could go, just a half hour before they closed at four. It was like a military operation and Harry was overcome with how much he liked having his mom and sister get along with his beach goddess. “I just have to make him muffins before we go,” she rolled her eyes.

“You bake too?” Anne wondered.

“Oh yes. A real hobby of mine. Muffins are my specialty. I put cranberries in them with chocolate chips and an extra teaspoon of vanilla extract. Everyone goes crazy about them, but otherwise I just follow a basic muffin recipe.”

“You’ll have to save us some. Harry used to work at a bakery before he went into teaching,” Anne explained. “We’re huge fans of baked goods.”

“I’ll save you some,” she giggled, and Harry thought there wasn’t a vacation that would ever top this one.

*

The man at the jewelry store clearly wanted her as much as Harry wanted her. He couldn’t blame him though because she decided to torture him in a sundress. It was a pale pink with orangey red seashells patterned on the fabric. Sunglasses atop her head, he once more thought she looked like a princess, truly thought she would live in a sandcastle if she could. It was flowy, draped to the floor and Harry wanted nothing more than to crawl underneath the skirt and live there. She paid no mind, however, to the way the man looked at her. Nor did she seem to see the internal fight Harry was having of keeping it PG as the other person working helped Gemma and Anne while she looked at other beachy jewelry. “Oh, those are so pretty,” she cooed pointing to rustic looking earrings. A little chain dangled into two pearls with a seashell fitted at the end of the little chain. Harry pressed his hand to her back as he looked over her shoulder. “Do y’want them?” He murmured into her hair, his lips touching the back of her head. He hoped that her friend saw how close he was to her while he munched on the muffins.

Maybe Gemma was right. How was he supposed to be separated by practically a whole state from her when he couldn’t even fathom another man talking to her? She rolled her eyes, but she leaned back into his embrace. He wrapped an arm around the front of her hips, kissing the side of her head as she spoke. “No, Harry. You met me less than a week ago, I don’t want you buying me a $150 pair of earrings,” she rolled her eyes. Harry wanted to get them for her. He would probably steal them for her if she asked him to. He didn’t see what knowing her for less than a week had to do with it.

“Excuse me, can I get these?” Harry asked.

“Harry,” she whispered trying to turn out of his embrace. She caught the way Gemma and Anne exchanged a look and smiled to themselves as they were fitted with their own array of beach jewelry. Harry slid his card through effortlessly as soon as the man took them out of the case. He had a bit of chocolate on the corner of his mouth, but Harry couldn’t blame him. She shared a few with him and his family and she could see why people went nuts about them. He did notice the way he eyed the closeness of Harry’s arm draped around her waist. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Assurance you’ll let me come back next summer,” he winked.

“It should be a thank you for bothering her all week,” Gemma said as they headed back out to the car with their purchases. Harry drove and she sat in the back with Gemma so Anne could sit up front. Harry grabbed his mom’s hand unceremoniously and she thought it was the most adorable thing in the entire world while she directed him to the overcrowded shop.

“He wasn’t a bother,” she giggled sitting forward to squeeze his shoulder while he drove. He felt like there was electricity zipping through him, he worried he wouldn’t make it to the store in one piece if she did it again.

The overcrowded shop was actually very fun for people watching. Harry found his arm around her waist the entire time and insisted on getting matching sweatshirts in different colors. She rolled her eyes once more at how crazy this all was falling so quickly for a man she just met. She would have to research love at first sight and see if there was some evidence that it was normal to feel and behave this way.

Content again with their purchases, they returned to the car. “Dinner?” Anne asked. “We’d like to treat you for invading your home the first night,” she said sweetly.

“Seriously, it was the least—”

“Love, jus’ let us buy y’dinner,” Harry hummed. “Jus’ tell me where t’go,” he glanced at her in the rearview mirror and winked at her.

So, what was she supposed to do but enjoy dinner with Harry and his family again?

*

Anne gave her a huge hug, thanked her no less than thirty more times, and then hugged Harry and told him to be polite and give her space if she wanted it. There was nothing she wanted less. In fact, if she could have glued herself to Harry she probably would.

But she also thanked her for dinner and for being so kind to her that first night even though she looked crazy in her post-nap haze. Anne thought nothing of it and Harry wondered if he would ever get over the euphoria he felt, knowing his mum liked the girl he was already smitten with.

Gemma also hugged her and thanked her profusely. Told her she hoped to see her again and let her know if she needed recipes for Harry while he was there. The pair waved as Harry’s family left Sea View. They walked back to Sun-Kissed Cabana hand in hand. Fingers twisted together. She still needed to do the dishes from the muffins she made earlier. “Do you want to watch the sunset or go to—”

The second they were inside her little place; Harry dropped to his knees and lifted her skirt over his head. He didn’t even shut the front door. “Harry,” she gasped as his lips started the ascent up her leg, starting at her knee, trailing over her thigh, moving inward toward her underwear. Harry sighed, pressing a chaste kiss to the outside of her underwear. She put a hand on the wall as he lifted one of her legs to go over his shoulder and she wished her brain was working at full capacity. She would have requested the door close so no one walking or driving by could see right in the entry way and see her gasping at the man between her thighs. Anyone that even glanced would immediately know what was happening. She would ruin countless family vacations if anyone looked. People would glare at the indecency, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. The only reprieve from her worry was that the sun was setting, and they hadn’t turned on a light.

“Can I make y’feel good, love? Please?” He begged. “Been dreaming ‘bout y’on m’tongue, kitten,” his voice was nearly muffled by the fabric of her dress paired with the fact his voice was so low and deep.

How could she say no to him begging her? God, she wanted his tongue on her. “Yes, yes, please,” she whimpered closing her eyes as his finger hooked around her panties and pushed them to the side. He didn’t wait one second before his mouth was on her.

His lips wrapped around her clit, and he sucked hard making her cry out. She was certain she was dripping. Embarrassingly wet. If his mouth wasn’t there, she probably would have dripped on the floor. Harry groaned loudly against her sending vibrations through her. Her vibrator would never compare ever again. She whimpered, grabbing his head atop the fabric of her dress pressing him toward her. He pulled back pressing kisses to the inside of her thigh over his shoulder as he paused for a breath. “M’gonna live here,” he promised making her feel shaky on the one leg that remained on the floor.

“Please don’t stop,” she begged.

“No, no way, kitten,” he murmured kissing a trail back to where he wanted to be; almost as much as she wanted him there. “Gonna make y’feel s’good. Promise. Gonna make y’come all over m’tongue again and again,” his words were so sweetly said despite the filth coming from them. However, given that his lips and tongue were doing sinful things to the apex of her thighs, she shouldn’t have been so surprised that he could turn her to mush physically and mentally with his mouth.

He continued, lapping between the folds. He held her in place, pressing his hands into her fleshy backside. She moaned, wishing she was pressed against the wall so she could drop her head back. She was worried she would collapse and break his neck. Especially when he did make her come. “S’fucking good,” he groaned into her kissing her puffy clit. “God, you’re s’wet. S’that for me?” He wondered sliding his hand over her backside toward her hip, down her groin where his finger slid through her folds gathering the sticky moisture that accumulated from herself and from his mouth. “Did I get y’this wet?”

Oh, he was enjoying this way too much. She nodded breathlessly, unable to speak if she wanted to. He couldn’t even see her nodding. She was overheating. She wanted his mouth back on her. It was unfair he was torturing her with words and physical movements of his mouth. “Y-yes,” she managed. “Harry, please,” she croaked out afterwards.

He groaned at the way she sounded. Like heaven. Begging. He was rock hard, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to taste her. Wanted to have her come all over him so he could clean her up and do it again as fast as possible.

After massaging her clit between his thumb and forefinger and letting his middle finger slide through her folds he finally dipped it into her hole. She cried out at the invasion and ground into his hand. “S’that good, baby? S’that make y’feel better?” He asked. That mocking tone from the morning she got herself off on his thigh was back she wished she could bite back a retort, but his lips weren’t allowing any coherent thoughts through. “S’that make the ache go away?” She nodded again, not that he could see but she thought he probably knew it was true. It did make the ache go away except she wanted to come so badly. “Such a good girl,” he moaned licking her like he was the one that invented doing this. “Y’gonna come on m’tongue?” He asked.

“Please,” she thought she was going to cry if she didn’t get a release soon. His finger felt so good, wiggling around her walls looking for the spot that would drive her wild while his lips attached back to her clit. “Please, Harry, please,” she moaned, and Harry thought she might be crying but he couldn’t see with her dress covering his head. It was warm below the fabric, his hot breath, and her carnal need to come making all senses done for. He swore the only thing he knew to do was make her come hard. He picked up the pace of his finger dipping in and out of her soaking wet hole. She was starting to clench just barely while he kept flicking his tongue over her clit that he kept in place while sucking it between his lips. “Right there,” she cried. “Please, please, please,” she begged as the flutter of her walls began to work around his finger.

He brought his arm around her, pressing her close to him so he could continue licking and fingering her until finally she moaned and shook. “Yes, fuck,” she whimpered, and her perfect pussy clenched rapidly around his finger while he continued his licking of her clit so she could ride out her second orgasm due to Harry against his lips and hand. As the waves finished wracking through her she was breathing heavily as Harry lapped up all the wetness making insanely lewd slurping noises as he did—like he wanted every drop of her. When he finished placing the most ironically chaste kiss on her oversensitive clit, she sighed. The leg on his shoulder slumped to the floor. He pulled her panties down to her ankles, kissing down her leg as he did. Helped her step out of them.

“You’ll need new ones,” he stated as a matter of fact. Not a need to brag although he very well could have. As he flipped the curtain of her skirt back over his head to free him, standing in the same moment.

His hair was a little staticky from the fabric brushing his hair. He smiled at her, impishly it seemed. Her breath was uneven, and she tried to remember how to speak but couldn’t find the words to say. “Are y’alright? Was that okay, love?”

She nodded, her eyes fluttering as if she were about to pass out. She was speechless. It made him feel good that he could get that kind of reaction out of her, but he was worried he accidentally broke her. Her eyes looked glassy like she wasn’t fully coherent yet.

He smiled, sweeping her into his arms like she was a bride and carried her to the sofa. It was so quick, and he made it seem so effortless she didn’t have time to think about how heavy she must have been for him to do that.

He left her safely and softly on the couch, kissing her forehead before he made his way to the kitchen. The ache between her thighs was satiated and she could feel her brain cells reconnecting and hoped she’d be able to form a sentence at any moment.

“Harry?” She asked tentatively. Her voice was cracking. Blinking unsurely, at the lack of Harry beside her.

“M’right here, angel. Jus’ getting us some water,” he promised sweetly and hurried to sit beside her. The worry in her voice with just his name made his heart hurt. He handed her the cup so she could get rehydrated. Harry thought she was the most precious thing he’d ever laid eyes on, but he sensed her uneasiness. He knew she felt it the other day too after their sunrise fun—except he spent most of the day not seeing her. He would make up for it now. Scooping her into his lap, scrunching the fabric of her skirt up over her hips so she could straddle his lap, he didn’t focus on the fact there was nothing between her body and his shorts. Her head dropped to the crook of his neck, and he soothingly rubbed her back while he took his own sip of water over the top of her shoulder. “Y’okay, love?” He asked tentatively again now that she had time to process the event in her mind, had some water, and that Harry was holding her carefully.

“Mmm,” she hummed softly. Her breath tickling his neck. “Thank you.”

He chuckled and kissed her hair. “I’d say the pleasure was all mine, but I think y’got the brunt of it.”

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to make you feel that good,” she mumbled sadly. Almost as if she was hurt by the idea.

He smirked. “Won’t be difficult, kitten. Thought I was gonna come jus’ from touching you,” he promised. She didn’t pay attention to that bit of info. She was too busy feeling bad about how needy she was right now.

“M’sorry m’needy,” she whispered—it always happened when she orgasmed like that at the hand of another guy. There were only a select few that managed to do it, but only one that left her high and dry after. It made her feel terrible and it had been a long while since she let it happen like that. Worried that she would feel dirty and gross again. She couldn’t really help herself with Harry though and she worried that she would bother him being so needy. “This is not the kind of beach vacation you had in mind, I’m sure.”

“Kitten, it’s so much better, because of you,” he pressed a kiss to the shell of her ear. “I’ll stay all night,” he promised her.

The research on love at first sight was no longer a worry. She had all the proof she needed right here.

*

Harry doesn’t know how many times he orgasmed. True to his word, he kissed her and kindly fucked her on every possible surface in Sea View. Except the outdoor shower. But that was only because it was raining. She giggled as Harry closed his eyes, smirking at her little laugh. “Something funny, kitten?” He asked reaching out across the bed—where they ended their escapades for the day.

She shook her head. “Never thought I’d be part of the group that’s been fucked at Sea View.”

He rolled over top of her, the sheets keeping a barrier between them. “S’been the best vacation of m’life,” he promised. “Gonna leave a six-star review,” he promised.

She laughed loudly, making his heart thrum with adoration at how carefree it sounded. “I don’t do this for everyone that stays here, don’t make reviews I can’t cash in on.”

“Love, if I could afford it, I would rent this place the whole summer.”

She smiled so beautifully. Harry thought she really was an angel like her friend said. A sun-kissed one for sure. “You’ll stay the night, yeah?” He asked. “We’ll watch TV and order food, whatever you want,” he promised.

“I’d like that. But I’ll need to go get a change of clothes.”

“You won’t need them,” he shrugged.

She giggled again.

*

They spent the next few days in the normal routine they developed the week before. They went to the beach, they checked an item off Harry’s vacation bucket list, they ate dinner together, watched the sunset, got ice cream, and moaned into each other’s mouths as much as possible.

They also touched a lot more. Harry held her hand while they waited in line behind the group of people ahead of them at the mini golf course. His arms looped around her back while they waded in the water, holding her close to him. He kept a hold of her foot in his lap while they read their books in the evening before sunset.

When they slept at night, in the comfy bed at Sea View, he wrapped her close to his chest and curled around her, his arms caging around her. “What if I have to pee?” She giggled the first night.

“Then I guess you’ll have t’pee on me,” he shrugged through her laughter.

It was unspoken that they didn’t talk about his vacation ending very soon. The only time she left him alone was when she showered at Sun-Kissed Cabana. He cutely told her he missed her the moment she returned to his home away from home. “So full moon tonight?” He asked looking down at her face. Today they read with her head in his lap, her face turned toward his stomach at the moment rubbing her nose against his warm t-shirt. He combed his fingers through her hair focusing on his book.

She nodded, wrangling her phone from her pocket to in front of her face so she could look at the weather app on her phone. “Nine thirty,” she glanced at the weather, there should be no clouds or rain to ruin the evening.

“It’ll be cold, yeah?” He asked. She checked the temperature and nodded again in affirmation.

“Probably wear what we wore for the sunrise.”

“Oh, I love that outfit,” he said flirtatiously. She rolled her eyes and turned to lay flat back against her lap and stare up at him. He smiled while he finished the page he was reading. “What?” He hummed.

“You’re obsessed with sex.”

“Me?!” He cried throwing his book on the coffee table. “You’re the one moaning and pressing your bum up against me all night,” he reminded her and brought his face down to hers so he could kiss her repeatedly. She giggled as he pulled her upper body with him as he leaned back against the sofa. He pulled her close to him. He was obsessed with sex. But only with her it seemed. It was a billion to one chance he would me this angel this vacation. Another billion to one chance he would find her stunning and adore her immediately.  Of course, it was only another billion to one chance he would want to make her come so many times her legs would shake just walking three houses down when she needed something from her little cottage.

Ugh, he wanted to stay here forever.

“Love,” he said gently. She was busy tracing his eyebrows and running her fingertip over his eyelids while he was lost in thought about how obsessed with sex he was. “I leave in a few days,” he reminded her. She frowned almost instantly and nodded. Looked away from him, ducked her face so her lips pressed to his shoulder. He pressed a hand to the back of her head, rubbing his fingertips gently into the back of her skull.

“I know,” she mumbled against his skin.

They were quiet for a few moments. Harry was trying to figure out what to say. It certainly couldn’t be that he was in love with her. He would sound like an idiot. She was intelligent and beautiful. Just because he wanted to live between her legs didn’t mean he could go around saying he loved her after a week and a half. “I want t’be very clear, kitten. I really don’t want t’leave,” he kissed the side of her head. “S’been a very special vacation,” he promised. “S’because of you, y’know. I don’t want t’leave because you’re here,” he combed through her hair with his fingers and kissed the crown of her head once more.

She didn’t answer but Harry could feel a teardrop fall onto his shirt. He didn’t move from this position. Didn’t want to call attention to her sadness and make it worse. They would have these moments and they could figure out the rest when the time came.

*

They walked hand in hand, the pathway lit by the flashlights on their phones. They wore their sweatpants and long sleeve shirts and were barefoot as they walked the same beach path, they always walked to the lifeguard stand. Before they even got there, Harry was speechless. “Oh wow,” the moon was just over top the horizon and since he had only seen the sunrise once this vacation, he only had one way to compare to it. If it wasn’t for the dark sky, he’d have no clue it wasn’t the sun. It was breathtaking.

She smiled and turned her flashlight off to take a picture. Harry did the same, wrapping his arm around her as she did so he wouldn’t lose her for even a second in the dark. “Is anyone else here y’think?” He asked.

She shook her head, bumping against him. “Probably not; mostly kids around here with their families. They can’t stay up this late,” she giggled. She yawned. “Honestly, me neither. I was up so late last night,” she reminded him.

He rolled his eyes. “‘Harry, please, please, please let me come. Oh, it’s so good,’” he mocked. She jabbed her elbow into his stomach not hard enough to hurt but he kissed the side of her face. She ignored him, turned her flashlight back on, and pulled him toward the lifeguard stand. They sat in silence, watching the moon slowly rise into the sky. It looked enormous. Beautiful. He said it when he first got here, but he truly believed she was right that this was the most magnificent place on earth.

She was taking pictures and playing with the exposure and lighting in the settings as she tried to capture how beautiful it was. The moon was now almost at the point where it was illuminating the beach. If he listened carefully, he could hear the sound of vacationers calling attention to their partners to look at the sky from their porches and cabins and cottages.

Harry snapped a picture of her focused expression managing to get her profile superimposed on the moon in the background. She blushed, not that Harry could see it in the dark like this but still. She wanted to talk more about what all this meant. What they should or would do when he left. It was so hard, the second it crossed her mind, tears filled her vision and she had to swallow the rock lodged in her esophagus. How was she supposed to have an adult conversation with Harry about it when she couldn’t even get the words out?

Hearing him say how much this all meant to him was a good start. It made her anxiety lessen. Because this meant the world to her; it was rash, quick, and ridiculous to fall in love so easily. She felt like a Disney princess falling for the first guy she saw. While she wasn’t sure if Harry was in love with her—which would be a completely normal thing—she could rest assured that he at least cared about her in some capacity. “Y’okay, kitten?” He hummed into her ear, pressing his lips to her temple while she thought. “Can hear the gears turning from here,” he smiled against her skin.

She shook her head. “It’s crazy to me how fast the moon rises,” she said. Harry nodded in agreement.

“Let’s head back, s’getting cold and I want t’get y’out of these clothes,” he murmured into her neck.

Harry dropped from the stand first, climbing down so he could make sure she made it down without injury. Once on the sand, they paused, leaning against the frame to gaze at the moon more.

She was pretty certain it was her doing, but she would never admit that to Harry. But soon her hand was in his sweatpants, holding his dick in her hand massaging the length of it, pulling and tugging it to get harder and longer. “Kitten,” he groaned quietly.

It was extremely ridiculous for her to do something like this on a public beach. Even if it was late at night. The moment he groaned out her pet-name she felt her thighs press together. She swore she was soaked already, and they’d hardly even begun. “Something about sweatpants with you,” she mumbled as she pulled down her own to just to mid-thigh. Harry followed suit. “S’gonna have to be quick,” she whispered standing in front of him, reaching behind so his body would curve around her.

“Oh kitten, m’already ready t’burst jus’ at the thought of your pussy around me,” he promised and slipped himself inside her from behind. She moaned quietly as he began pumping into her, in and out. She loved the darkness, only the moon casting a low glow over them while it still rose higher in the sky. It provided a good cover in case anyone did happen to walk their way down here. She turned to the side, gripping the wood of the lifeguard stand as she bent forward more. The sound of the waves lapping at the shore disguised the sound of Harry’s skin smacking against hers.

“So good,” she whimpered. “Harry,” she cried. He gripped her hips pulling her back toward him as he pushed forward. It was a miracle she could have this many orgasms in only a matter of days. She had never tried before to have this many but was once more worried that she wouldn’t last one day without him, let alone a whole year before she would see him next summer. “Harry,” she whined again and grabbed his hand holding onto her hip.

“Yeah, love? Y’close already? Y’all excited and wet for me because we’re on the beach? Gotta be quiet for me, baby. When y’come. Don’t want anyone t’hear. All those noises y’make are for me, yeah?”

She was going to scream at the top of her lungs, and she didn’t care who heard her. “Your pussy is s’good. So wet. Feel y'gripping me,” he mumbled and grabbed he cheek of her bum with one of his hands. He pressed hard, certain he would leave little finger print bruises and he wished he could be gentler but this was so fucking hot he thought he was going to lose his mind.

“Harry,” she whined again. “Please,” she begged.

“Y’can come, angel. Come as much as y’want. Come all over m’cock, please. Make yourself come all over me, love,” he moaned snapping almost brutally into her.

She whimpered as she did, her legs shaking almost to the point where she would have collapsed if Harry wasn’t holding her up. He continued to drive his dick up into her as he pulled her back toward him, so she was pressed to his torso. With a few more pumps he felt himself about to burst and alerted her. “Gonna come so hard, cause of you,” he groaned. She dropped to her knees, wrapping her lips around the head of his cock just in time to catch all of him in her mouth. He shivered as her mouth worked over him and he pulled away and pulled her up as he did.

He kissed her forehead and wrapped his arm around her tightly. “M’legs are tired.”

He nodded. “I know baby,” he cooed, pulling her pants up. He pulled his own up, catching a glimpse of the moon. “Do y’still have your phone?” She nodded mutely. Harry smiled, kissed her lips gently and then cradled her in his arms as he carried her back to the cottage.

*

They were two days and several hours away from Harry leaving. Her chest thought it was going to break open from the force of hiding her emotions. She was finishing getting fixed up after their walk and separate showers. Even though Harry did invite her. “We have to go to the store, you maniac,” she giggled as he tried to convince her with kisses down her throat.

“The store will be there in an hour.”

“S’never just an hour with you,” she muttered under her breath.

“Was that a complaint?”

“No, not even a little.”

No, they left the shower off their new kinky little bucket list for Harry’s vacation. Something to look forward to for next year. She was just finishing her hair when she heard the screen door. “Kitten?” He called.

“Bathroom!”

He stood in the doorway watching her put the final touches in her hair. He was grinning like an idiot. Like he had a secret. “Can we talk?” He asked.

She whipped around so fast to look at him and ask why he would ever say such a thing that she knocked her bottle of hair stuff onto the floor. She was lucky the lid to the toilet was closed where she had placed her towel from her shower, or she would be adding hair product to their grocery list since it merely bounced off the top of it. Harry’s mouth popped open, but she could see his eyes dancing in amusement.

“I should have picked a better phrase,” he nodded firmly.

She looked at him in shock. “Ya think?”

He grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips. “There’s...” he shook his head. “Jus’ c’mere,” he pulled her to her main room and flopped the pair of them onto the sofa. He brought his hands to her face, brought her to his lips and kissed her forehead, her nose, and pressed a gentle kiss on her lips. “M’going t’say a lot right now,” he told her. “Can y’be patient?” he asked. She nodded, nervously. Hopefully he would just treat it like ripping a Band-Aid off. “Y’have nothing t’be nervous about, love,” he promised kissing her forehead again.

“You’re making me anxious,” she said seriously. He chuckled.

“Okay, okay. I’ll start,” he smiled shaking his head. “I have immensely enjoyed this vacation. But even if I was trapped in the worst city in the worst home and you were there, I think I would have enjoyed it,” he rubbed his thumb along her cheek. It was starting off okay at least. “M’really heartbroken I have t’go,” he told her. “I didn’t even shower I was on the phone looking for another rental for every week this summer,” She smiled at that, feeling her eyes water. He swept his thumb below her eye seeing the tears appear.  “But m’friend Mitch called me too. His wedding is in early October. I...I wasn’t given a plus one originally, but he said I could have one. I told him all about you. In fifteen minutes. Mitch and Sarah were insistent at that point,” he told her. “I know s’not much. But I’d be able t’see you. And...I know s’like three months away...but it’s something right? Would y’go with me?”

She would see him again. She nodded. It didn’t matter how ridiculous it was.

“And...we could video chat. Every day. Hell, love, I’ll apply to a new school, I jus’ want t’have you in m’life in some permanent way. I’ll spend every school holiday with you. We’ll spend all summer here, every year. I know—” She started full on sniveling, and she covered her mouth as he spoke. “You think m’nuts,” he frowned.

She nodded. “I do, but only because I am too,” she promised tearily. “I want all of that,” she agreed. Harry sighed with relief, bringing his thumbs across her cheeks once more to rid them of tears and kissing her deeply. It wasn’t quite like the kisses that led to him pulling all her clothes off, but it had almost as much passion.

“I promise, I don’t usually fall in love this quickly,” he admitted. Her lips parted at the L-word in surprise and Harry slapped a hand against his face. “Fuck...I mean...” he sighed shaking his head. “I think s’obvious given that I jus’ invited you t’a wedding after knowing y’for a handful of days,” he shook his head quickly like he was trying to rewire some of his neurons in hope of making sense again. “Sorry,” he tucked his face into his neck terrified he just ruined everything by telling a girl he knew for only ten days he loved her.

She giggled through her tears. “I... forgot I’ve had an orgasm...let alone had sex...literally ever...when I was dry humping your leg at the beach. I don’t think...this is very different than any...I don’t do this sort of thing,” she nodded in agreement. “I like you a lot,” she whispered at least she had enough sense to not say love—even if Harry thought she kind of wanted to say it back—and she did want to say it. “An embarrassing amount. I’m dreading having to say goodbye. Dreading the end of your vacation and at any moment I’m worried I’m going to invite you to stay with me, nearly a stranger, for the rest of the summer just so I don’t have to let you go,” she then pressed her fingers to her lips and closed her eyes. “Shit,” she muttered against them.

Harry chuckled, bit the inside of his lip glad she was speaking from her heart the same way Harry did. “Honestly, love? I would stay, if y’wanted me to.”

She flicked her eyes up to him. Adoring the green irises that were haunting every thought. “Yeah?” She whispered.

He nodded. “I...I think this might be the best vacation I’ve ever been on. Too bad y’don’t have an outdoor shower. S’where I’ve been imagining some really fun things ‘bout you.”

“Why imagine when you could have them? We still have two days.”

He moaned. “M’gonna fuck you with a Sea View,” he said pulling her to stand and all but racing back to his perfect little cottage home. Enjoying her giggles as he stripped her naked in the backyard along with him. Harry was eternally grateful to whatever powers that be he got this vacation spot with the beautiful goddess from Sun-Kissed Cabana all to himself.

And an outdoor shower.

--

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @youdontcaredoyou @tiredinwinter @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach @straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals @angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams @summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @kissinthekitchen

@pancakerry

Please let me know if you'd like to join the taglist, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

For several moments, all she can do is stare at him. He doesn’t look particularly nervous about what her response could be, he actually looks quite confident that she’ll just go along with this insane thing he’s said. 

“Why?” Was the only thing she could ask him at the moment. She figures if she starts there, things will start making sense quicker. 

“Why not?” He shrugged it off like this was something normal. Like people just go around claiming others as their girlfriend and it’s just fine. Because it happens all the time. 

Except it doesn’t. And it’s not. 

“Well, you might want to clear that up then. Because I’m not your girlfriend.” She tried to say it as firmly as she could, but he just shook his head. 

“But I told him you are. So, you are.” Again, she’s just in so much shock because what is happening? It doesn’t add up and she just wishes he could be straight-forward with her this one time. 

“No, Harry. I’m not. And this obviously isn’t a work-related dinner and so far it’s very unprofessional, sir, no offense. So, I think I’d better go.” Right when she picked up her purse, he snatched it out of her hand and held it to his chest. 

“Not so fast, (Y/N),” She huffed, sitting back in her chair, feeling exhausted all of a sudden. He is the most childish man she’s ever met. She briefly thinks about telling him that but decides not to. “I told you I needed a favor from you and you said you’d help me.” 

“I was drunk! And I didn’t know what you were asking because you’ve made it your mission to be mysterious or whatever and it’s not very fun for people who don’t know what’s going on. It’s actually very mean. Now give me my bag.” She reached across the table, but he leaned away from her, holding back the most obvious grin she’s ever seen. 

“Come on, (Y/N). If you’d let me explain a bit, you’d probably love the idea.” She doubted that. 

“Fine. Why did you lie to your father?” 

“I didn’t really lie. I just told him something to keep him happy with me.” (Y/N) is rubbing her temples, wondering if she should try to get up and leave again. She’s still not sure why her being his girlfriend has anything to do with his father being happy. 

“But why?”

“(Y/N). My father is retiring in three months. He needs to take me seriously. His position will be up for grabs and right now, it’s between me and that cocksucker.” She figured he was referring to Steven with the face he pulled, but she’s still not getting the answers she needs to be able to understand what the hell he’s talking about. “And he needs to see that I’ve settled down and I’m responsible and committed to something.” 

Like it was the simplest thing in the world. (Y/N) is wondering if he’s thought of other options. You know, besides pretending to date his assistant because there has to be another way. 

“And what does that have to do with me?” 

“He likes you.” 

“I still don’t get it.” 

“Then let me dumb it down for you,” She narrowed her eyes at him in annoyance. “I’m on my way to thirty, (Y/N). And right now, my father thinks all I do in my spare time is party and drink and fuck random girls every night.” 

“Um, that would be because you do.” She has access to his calendars. She knows what he’s up to even if he thinks she doesn’t. 

“I do not, (Y/N). And I’m hurt that you think I do.” She rolled her eyes.

“Why not ask one of them?”

“Don’t want to.” 

“Then why me?” 

“I already told you because he likes you. You’re my only option, (Y/N). Please.” She took a second to think about it. She’s never been the deceiving type and Des is always so nice to her. She can’t. 

“I’m not going to lie to your father for you, Harry. I’m sorry. I need to go.” 

“I’ve already told him so there's not much you can do.” She stood from her chair, done with the conversation. She snatched her purse back and watched as his eyebrows furrowed like he was getting the tiniest bit frustrated with her. 

“Goodnight, Harry.” She went to turn, but he grabbed her wrist. 

“What if I said your job depended on it?” 

“Then, you’d be an asshole.” 

“Then I guess I am.” 

“You said it wouldn’t have anything to do with my job!” 

“I changed my mind. Sit back down.” That was the last thing she was going to do. She knows Harry pretty well and she knows he’s not going to fire her over this. So, she’s going to call his bluff. 

“No. I guess you have to fire me.” 

Harry knows she’ll come around to the idea. Of course, it’s not going to impact her job, he only said that to make her reconsider. Plus, he likes to get her riled up so she gets mouthy. She’s never spoken this way to him before and he sure it’s because he’s been bothering her so much in the past couple weeks. Before (Y/N) was like a little church mouse and said very little to him. Now, she’s rolling her eyes and almost shouting at him. He loves it. He loves it so much. 

“See you at work tomorrow.” He grabbed his glass and brought it to his lips as she huffed and walked from the table, toward the exit. He watched her the entire way as she weaved in between tables and finally pushed her way through the revolving doors.

Yeah. He’ll be seeing (Y/N) tomorrow even if she doesn’t want to see him. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Harry was surprised to find out that (Y/N) called into work the next day. 

Now she’s just being dramatic. 

But he’s persistent and used to getting what he wants, so this is no issue for him. He was going to wait until the work day was over but decided instead to leave his office around lunchtime and go track her down. What better way to show that he’s serious than forcing his way into her apartment and making her do just what he wants her to do? 

So, that’s why he’s at her door right now with a bundle of pretty flowers, attempting to ask for forgiveness. He can admit that he might not have gone about it the best way. He kind of just told her what she was going to do instead of asking. And Harry thinks that (Y/N) might change her mind if he’s a bit nicer about it.

He knocked on her door twice and waited, checking his watch. He’s not sure she’ll open the door because she does have a peephole that she can take advantage of and just act like she’s not home, but he knows better than that and he’s not giving up. 

“(Y/N). I just want to talk, sweetheart. Come on out.” He spoke up now that it had been silent for much longer than he wanted it to be. He knows she’s inside trying to decide what to do. And he’ll wait here all day if it means she’ll come out eventually to talk to him. 

“Go away.” He heard through the door. He tried not to smile.

“Open up. It’s important.” He knocked again. 

She huffed on the other side of the door. She cannot believe he’s here right now wasting his time. She’s never going to agree to something as strange as that. It wouldn’t be right. So, she’s still keeping her back to the door, thinking of ways to get him to go away. 

“I don’t want to talk to you.” She thinks she just heard him laugh and that irritates her more. He’s laughing at her again and she hates that. 

“Thought you were my best girl, (Y/N). Just open the door already.” She can’t believe he even called her that in the first place. It makes her sick to her stomach. 

“Nope. Bye.” She was just about to walk off from the door and leave him there pleading by himself, but of course, he had another trick up his sleeve. 

“Brought you some of those Belgian chocolates you like. You know, the ones I always bring back and you rave about.” 

Harry goes on these lavish vacations a few times a year and always brings something back for her as a souvenir. He’d found these amazing chocolates shaped like seashells once and always has a stockpile of them for her when he returns. And (Y/N) can’t say no to chocolates. And Harry knows just how to get her to do what he wants. Always. 

She opened the door, even though she didn’t want to and there he stood, leaning against the door frame with a smirk on his face. She wanted to slam the door on him, but with the promise of chocolates, she decided to postpone any door slamming. 

“Fine. What is so urgent that you had to come find me during work hours?” He didn’t answer right away, he just stared at her. “Hey, don’t you have a meeting right now?” 

Again, he didn’t answer because he’s never seen (Y/N) in so little clothes. She’s in a tank top with a very fair amount of cleavage showing and a pair of pajama shorts that are so short, he can’t look at them for too long. And she’s completely makeup free and her hair is in a messy ponytail and Harry, for just a second, thinks that they could really pull this off. 

“Canceled it. You know what’s so urgent. Can you let me in now?” 

“Where are the chocolates?” He sighed, reaching into his pocket to retrieve the much smaller box of chocolates than she was expecting. She shot him a look but took the candy from his outstretched hand anyway. “Come in.” 

He followed after her. He remembered the setup the same as it had been when he practically carried her to her bed last Friday. He’d told his father earlier that day which is why he needed (Y/N) to be there at dinner. 

His father was very excited to learn about (Y/N). He said he saw it coming eventually or something. And he was even more excited when he found out (Y/N) was coming to dinner. While she didn’t say much, Des knows it’s just a part of her personality and didn’t push her to speak about the relationship, thank god. Harry was a bit nervous he’d begin quizzing her, but he warned him beforehand not to overwhelm her. He also told him that (Y/N) didn’t know he was telling him and to keep it under wraps. 

His plan will run so smoothly if she just does what he wants. She doesn’t even have to do anything. Just a few dinners here and there and a few outings to solidify everything. Nothing insane. Nothing like he bets she’s thinking. 

He relaxed into her couch as soon as he was close enough and watched as (Y/N) stood over him and kept her arms crossed. Little did she know she was pressing her tits together in the most delicious way. And he couldn’t help staring. 

Harry’s never really considered (Y/N) because she’s so out of his league, but now that the opportunity has come up, he’s thinking otherwise. He’d really prefer not to mix business with pleasure, but with (Y/N), he doesn’t think he can help it. 

“Did you think about what I said?” 

“Mhm.” 

“And what do you think?” 

“It’s a no, Mister Styles, so if you want to fire me, go ahead. But you’ll never, ever, ever have another assistant better than me, so you’re really kind of screwing yourself. Now goodbye.” He loves this. He’d do it all day if he could, but unfortunately, he’s still not getting the answer he’d like. 

“See, that’s not going to work for me. And if you’re such an incredible assistant, why are you not doing what I’m telling you to? Maybe if I did have another assistant she’d be more . . . willing,” He trailed off and she huffed, knowing what game he’s playing. “And it might even come with a pay raise. Extra vacation days, PTO . . . the list could go on.” 

All those things sound amazing, but she just doesn’t know the risk of it all. But he’s almost giving her an offer she can’t refuse. Almost. 

“What does being your girlfriend even mean?” She rubbed at her forehead, feeling stupid for even asking. It’s like giving him what he wants and she hates that. 

“Just dinners with my father. A few events that we’d have to be seen publicly at. Nothing over the top and nothing to make you uncomfortable. I will have to touch you though. And I know you have no issue with that, sweetheart.” She feels like chucking the chocolates at his head but stops herself and decides to be nice this once.

“You’re delusional. Like seriously. And I’m not saying yes, but the pay raise would have to be substantial. No one could know about it because they’d think you’re favoring me just because I’m your girlfriend,” She gasped. “Does the whole office have to know?” 

She doesn’t want any weird looks from anyone. She knows Riley will have a field day if she hears he’s her boyfriend. But that’s not happening. 

“Kind of. They’d find out anyway, but we don’t have to formally tell them. What do you say?” She snatched the flowers out of his hand and went to put them in water. 

She left him sitting there on her couch as she trimmed the stems, filled a vase, and put them neatly on her counter top. Then she sighed, questioning her own sanity. 

“I don’t know.” He turned towards her and smirked. 

“Better than no. What’s holding you back?” She shot him a look. 

“Um, the whole thing! You’re asking a lot from me.” She crossed her arms, watching as his eyes looked her up and down again. 

“I know. I’m willing to compensate you nicely for your time and attention, (Y/N).” She dropped onto the couch next to him, feeling tired. He drains her of energy. Just speaking with him.

“Why me?” She shut her eyes. 

“Because you're stunning and I don’t want anyone else.” She peeked an eye open at him and groaned. 

“Don’t say things like that, please. How long?” He shrugged. 

“As long as it takes.” 

“What if you meet someone?” 

“I won’t.” 

“What if I meet someone?” 

“I’ll make sure you don’t.” She scoffed, swatting his shoulder. She can’t believe that she’s really thinking about this. She doesn’t know all the terms and conditions yet, but still, he’s almost convincing her to say yes. 

“Listen,” She sat up so hopefully he’d take her more seriously. “Just until your father passes the position onto you. Nothing more. Do you hear me?” 

“I hear you, (Y/N).” Now he’s smiling and she would hate it if he didn’t look so pretty. 

“And this is on my terms. Nothing weird or I’m breaking up with you. I’m not kidding.” He put his hands up in defense and laughed. 

“Nothing weird, got it.” She rubbed over her eyes and sighed. She cannot believe what she just agreed to. 

“Now order me dinner and then leave. I don’t want to see you until tomorrow.” She is feeling hungry and she doesn't mind having another meal out of his pocket again. She has a feeling that will be happening more often. 

“Yes ma’am.” 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

What (Y/N) did not expect the next morning was an unbelievably large flower arrangement to be sitting on her desk. She set her purse down before searching for the card. And when she opened the card, Harry had left her a sweet little note. 

For you, my love.

Harry

She was just about to roll her eyes when Des appeared in front of her with Harry standing beside him.

“How are you this morning, (Y/N)?” She glanced at Harry before speaking. 

“I-I’m good. Great. Harry sent me some flowers. Isn’t that so sweet of him?” She played it off, trying not to get hot in the face as Harry winked at her. 

“That is nice of you, son. I’m glad he’s being good to you. You deserve flowers, (Y/N).” He patted her on the shoulder before bidding them both farewell. As soon as he was out of sight, (Y/N) was slapping Harry’s arm as hard as she could. 

“Ow!” 

“Why wouldn’t you warn me?!” She felt like hitting him again, but she's never been one to get violent. But Harry is making her feel like she’s crazy. 

“You do better when you’ve not been rehearsing things in your head. I did you a favor.” 

“Can you keep this in your office? It’s so obnoxious.” She picked up the flowers and tried to hold them out to him, but he shook his head. 

“Nope. Those are yours. Plus, it says a lot without saying anything.” And then he walked off, leaving her with her arms outstretched with the flowers. She rolled her eyes and sat them back on the corner of her desk. 

Harry hopes that Steven comes to his floor and tries to charm (Y/N) today. And he hopes that she shows him that card and he finally gets the fucking hint. Normally, he has to go to her desk and shoo him away, but maybe the flowers will do the trick all on their own. 

(Y/N) really tried to get work done today, but the amount of meetings Harry had scheduled was just too much for her. She had to be present in most of them and of course Harry had his arm wrapped around her chair, shooting daggers at Steven. They had two meetings with him already and Harry just kept pushing the bar. Pulling her chair close to his, playing with her hair, leaning down to whisper absolutely nothing pertaining to the meeting in her ear. She knew it was all a part of the game, but he’s frustrating putting his mouth so close to her ear and raking his fingers through her hair. It was driving her mad and not in the way that she wanted it to. She wanted to be irritated by it, not yearning for more. 

Harry feels the same. He knows (Y/N) won’t initiate anything because she just doesn’t know what to do yet. But he knows when the day comes, he won’t be able to get enough. In the meantime, he’s just going to play it cool. Let things happen as they do. So what he likes the feeling of her hair through his fingers or how she shivers when he leans in to ask her if she’s cold. This is just to keep his father’s company in the family name. He doesn’t know why Steven is an option at all, but he’s going to do his best to keep him from being one. And (Y/N) is the only way he can do that. 

When lunchtime arrived, she was going about it as normal. She’s going to walk downstairs and ask Riley if she’d like to come along with her to the cafe. As soon as she stopped at her desk, Riley was beaming at her. 

“Hey, ready to go?” She’s an amazing friend. (Y/N) doesn’t see her much outside of work, but they’re still pretty much best friends. 

“Oh, yeah. I’ve got to send off an email really quickly and then I’ll be good to go.” (Y/N) waited patiently as Riley typed out whatever she needed to. She is kind of hungry today, so she’s thinking she’ll get an extra side of fries today. Right when Riley clicked send, arms were wrapping around (Y/N) from behind and she was pulled into someone’s chest. Both her and Riley’s eyes went wide. Hers because who is grabbing her and Riley’s because um, isn’t that her boss? 

“Hi, Riley. You don’t mind if I steal (Y/N) again, do you?” He rested his chin on her tense shoulder and squeezed her. She’s dying right now, but can’t find it in herself to move right now. She knows he said touching, but she never thought it’d be like this. 

His chest is warm against her back, even through the cozy sweater she decided to wear today. His hands are at her waist and he’s got quite the grip on her. If she didn’t have more common sense, she’d be in a puddle right now. But she can’t afford that with Harry. It’s not in the cards now and never will be. 

“Uh…no, sir. She’s all yours.” (Y/N) could tell Riley was thoroughly confused, but just didn’t say anything. She waved at (Y/N) and Harry started pulling her off. He reached for her hand instead and guided her to the doors. She glanced back at Riley once more and saw she looked completely confused, but she just waved again. 

When they made it out on the street, (Y/N) ripped her hand from his. 

“Excuse my language but what the fuck was that?” He just chuckled, reaching for her hand again. 

“I said I’m taking you to lunch. What’s wrong with that, babe?” Again, he’s acting like this scenario is normal and it’s not. 

“You are so—” She cut herself off by groaning and he laughed again. 

“Be good for me, please, and I’ll buy you dessert.” 

“Fine.” He slipped his fingers between hers and dragged her down the street while she tried to keep up with him. (Y/N) is not getting used to this any time soon. She won’t. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

(Y/N) knew from the start that Harry would be around a lot more than she’s used to. Just to play up the fact that they’re supposed to be dating. But what she didn’t know was that he’d be everywhere she is. 

She goes to make copies, he follows her and makes it so obvious to everyone in the office that there’s something going on between them. Which she didn’t want. But it was too late. She could hear the whispers everytime she passed the floor. It was an awful feeling, but when she mentioned it to Harry, he was far from understanding. 

“No one is going to treat you differently, babe. Don’t worry about it,” She huffed. He just doesn’t get it. Everyone on their floor is already gossiping and she hates it. “Someone’s giving you a hard time then? Who?” 

He sat up straighter in his chair, ready to go off down the hallway and take care of whoever is making (Y/N) uncomfortable. Because it’s none of anyone’s business. And if anyone has anything to say about it, their job position can easily be eliminated. 

“No one! It’s just . . . people are talking because you won’t leave me alone!” She whined, but he couldn’t help smiling at her. Because that wasn’t happening. And not just because they’re supposed to be dating. But because he just likes to. He likes to see what she’s doing and talk to her and tease her. It’s normal. He just wants to be around her. Not in a weird way, but in a way that is normal. 

“Can’t help it. You’re my girlfriend, (Y/N). What am I supposed to do? Ignore you?” (Y/N) wanted to cover her ears, but decided that might be a bit much. But why is he just saying that? Like it’s true or something. 

“I’m actually not your girlfriend, Mister Styles, and this is strictly business.” She crossed her arms, not wanting to take part in the fantasy he’s trying to create. Because it will never be true and she’s not going to get her hopes up. Not that she had any hopes, she just doesn’t want to confuse herself with all these nice things he’s doing and saying. 

“Well, this business we’re doing comes with lots of perks, Miss (Y/L/N), and I don’t think you’re taking advantage of them.” She knows he’s not saying what she thinks he’s saying. She wants to pick up the stapler on his desk and chuck it at him, but again, violence is not her thing. So, she takes a long deep breath and stands up from the chair she’d been sitting in. 

“You’re insane. I’m going back to my desk and you’re going to stop being so clingy, got it?” Never in a million years did (Y/N) think she’d be speaking so freely around him, but here they are. 

“Come here for a second.” Her shoulders dropped in slight disappointment. She just wanted to leave his office and go sit back at her desk until the end of the work day comes. He always has to interrupt her plans. 

She walked around his desk as he pushed his chair back, making enough room for her to stand between him and his desk. She’s not sure why, again, he does the things he does, but she just complies because it’s easier that way. 

She expected him to start speaking and saying more nonsense, but he didn’t. He just stared at her, looking her up and down, and very obviously ogling her. He’s done it before, but not in such close proximity. And she almost regrets wearing the skirt that she picked out today that’s just barely meeting dress code. Almost. 

Instead, he moved his chair forward, trapping her against the side of his desk. And then very suddenly grabbed the back of her thighs to lift her onto his desk. She would’ve fallen over if it wasn’t for her grip on his shoulders. 

“What are you doing?” He didn’t answer, he just dropped to his knees in front of her. If anything before this very moment shocked her, nothing could top this. It was very obvious what he was suggesting, but still. She was going to pretend like she didn’t know what he was doing. 

“You talk much nicer to me when you’re up there and I’m down here. Any reason for that?” She pressed her knees together and pulled her skirt down as far as she could. He was smirking, she knew that he enjoyed making her squirm. It’s annoying that he always gets to be the one that’s doing the teasing. She wonders when it’ll be her turn. She quickly checked behind her to make sure the blinds were shut. Someone seeing this from the outside would surely get them both in trouble with HR and she’s not willing to risk that. 

“Nope.” (Y/N) didn’t have much time to act unbothered by his position right now because he squeezed the back of her calves with both hands before gently pushing her knees apart. 

“Is that so?” She nodded, trying not to get distracted by having his face so close to her skirt. “Well, you’ve been very tense the past couple of days. Is there anything I can do to help with that?” 

It’s not like he hasn’t thought about it before. He just usually tries to keep (Y/N) out of his fantasies. Not because he doesn’t want to think about her, but because he finds it kind of weird the next day at work trying to focus around her when he was just thinking about what she’d look like naked. So, he tries not to imagine her in scenarios like that. But it still does happen, he can’t help it. 

And while he doesn’t know much about what (Y/N) does outside of work, he knows that she’s not sleeping with anyone. He can just tell. She has been before and she’s a little more relaxed when that’s the case. But it’s been a while and he’s only offering because he’d help her if she wanted him to. It’s not a big deal. It’s the least he can do after the favor she’s helping him with. 

“No there’s not, you pig. Get away from me.” She’ll definitely have to go to the restroom straight away so she can take a second to breathe. This is all too much and she’s not sure why she’s feeling the way she is right now. Just because she denied him right off the bat doesn’t mean she’s not going to be thinking about this encounter for the rest of her life. Because that’s untrue. She’s never going to forget this actually. 

“I understand. You don’t think you’ll be quiet enough, it’s fine. We’ll postpone it then.” Again, he’s left her with her jaw dropped. But he just moved to sit back in his chair like it was nothing, again, that he’d said something like that. 

“That is not at all what I was thinking, sir,” She rolled her eyes. “I’m sure I’d do just fine, but I have—” 

“Would you?” Harry lives for this back and forth. He likes watching her debate within herself to make decisions. And right now, he can tell that her calm and collected facade is fading. Just by the way she’s entertaining his idea. 

“You never heard Steven and I.” She watched all the amusement drain from his face and she reveled in that. All she has to do is mention Steven and his teasing stops. It’s like magic. She didn’t even let him respond. For the first time, he seemed to be the one in shock with nothing to say.

She slid off his desk and left his office, all without him saying a word. 

If he can have fun, so can she. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

For the rest of the week, Harry didn’t talk to her. She’d do all the things she usually does like sit next to him in meetings and bring him his lunch, but he’d try to look preoccupied. And she knew he wasn’t, he was just mad about their last conversation. And while she doesn’t know why Steven bothers him so much, it was fun to send Steven a flirty wave when Harry was sitting right next to her in the conference room. She’s not interested in the slightest, but if it makes Harry brood around the office, she takes that as a win. 

It’s a Friday night now and she’d been having a little movie marathon by herself with candy and popcorn and cozy blankets. And by the time one o’clock in the morning hit, she was pretty much trying to keep herself awake, so she decided it was time for bed. She straightened up a bit, brushed her teeth, and slipped into bed. She doesn’t currently have much planned for the weekend, so she thinks sleeping in tomorrow and getting a late breakfast will be the perfect way to start the day. 

But right as she shut her eyes, her phone started ringing. She groaned, forcing her eyes back open to reach onto her nightstand and grab it. On the screen was her boss’ name and the cute little pink flower she’d put there just for kicks. She didn’t know why he’d be calling her since he spent the majority of his week ignoring her, but she still swiped across the screen to answer the call. 

“Hello?” 

“You’re driving me up a fucking wall do you know that?” She’s not sure why he’s calling her right now to tell her this, but she’s certain it can wait until Monday morning. 

“What are you talking about, Harry?” She knows well what he’s talking about, but she never thought it would affect him like this. 

“I can’t even sleep because you’ve been making me feel crazy, (Y/N). I just want it to stop, okay?” He sounds almost breathless. She can tell that he’s been fretting over this way too much. And while that was sort of her intention, this was never how she thought he’d react. 

“Okay,” She trailed off, not knowing why he even called or what she could do to fix it. “And you’re calling me, why?” 

“Here we fucking go,” He really does sound like he’s going mad over this. And she kind of likes it. “So, you mean to tell me that you and that cocksucker slept together? After I told you how much I despise him.” 

“What does you despising him have to do with me? I can sleep with whoever I want.” She’s not giving in quite yet. She wants to make him suffer just a bit more. 

“Sure, but you’re my assistant.” 

“We all know that, Harry. What’s the issue?” He sighed like she wasn’t understanding what he was telling her. Because she really doesn’t. It makes no sense that who she chooses to sleep with would make him act like this. 

“Just tell me you’ve never slept with him, so I can get some rest tonight. Even if it’s not true.” He does sound tired, but the entire thing is so weird to her. He’s losing sleep over the thought of her with Steven at all. She’s trying her best not to be smug about it, but it’s harder than she thought it’d be. 

“I have not slept with Steven. Goodnight.” 

“No, no, no. Be honest this time. It isn’t any of my business, but I just . . . I need to know.” (Y/N) almost feels bad for him. He called at almost two in the morning to ask her this because he couldn’t sleep. It’s almost endearing. 

“I haven’t slept with Steven. I just said that to make you mad.” Now she’s feeling tired and ready to go to bed, so the sooner she confesses, the sooner she can sleep. 

“I fucking knew it. You’d never lower your standards for him, would you?” She yawned before humming. 

“Never.” 

“Good. You deserve much better than him. You know that, right?”

“Mhm. I’m not interested in him anyway. I already have a boyfriend, remember?” She teased him. 

“You do. And you like me more than him, right?” 

Now it seems he needs a little ego boost. And she guesses she can give him that after torturing him all week unknowingly. 

“Right. I do.”

“And you’re my girl.” She wanted to stop him there because that’s not necessarily true, but this is all fun and games. 

“Yes, Harry.” 

“Glad we got that cleared up. Family dinner’s on Sunday night. Pick you up at six.” 

She went on to protest, wanting to tell him that that was never a part of the deal, but he didn’t even give her the chance since the line clicked right as she went to tell him that she’s most certainly not doing that. She’ll have to yell at him tomorrow instead. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Who’s going to be at family dinner again?” 

(Y/N) had asked this three times already, but Harry knows she’s just nervous. Originally, he wasn’t going to ask her to come to this one because he told his father it was “too soon” and wanted to save (Y/N) the worrying. But then, she decided to pull that little stunt last week and he wasn’t feeling as gracious anymore. So, he’s making her sit through dinner as his girlfriend. That means she’ll have to be nice to him and let him pet on her all night. Which he knows she doesn’t mind. She never says she does anyway. 

He doesn’t mind it either. She’s wearing this tiny little white sundress today and he’s trying to be on his best behavior, but he can’t stop looking at her out of the corner of his eye as he drives them to his father’s. She’s a sight to see. With the way she’s sitting now, the hem of her dress pushed way too far up her thighs. And she doesn’t even notice. She’s too anxious about dinner. But it’s all he can think about. That and her allowing him to grab onto the soft, warrn flesh of her thighs. He can barely keep his eyes on the road. 

“Harry!” She swatted his chest, snapping him out of whatever daydream he was in. Something about stopping on the side of the road and climbing into the backseat. 

“Huh?” 

“You’re not listening. Who’s going to be at dinner tonight?” 

“Told you already. This one is, like, big though. A few cousins and aunts and stuff. Nothing too crazy though.” He can tell by the look on her face that she thinks the exact opposite. 

“Oh, god. What if I mess this up?” 

“Then, you’re fired,” She shot him a glare that made him laugh. He loves joking with her. She takes things too seriously. “Kidding. You’re not going to mess it up. These dinners only happen like once every few months. Lucky for you, one of my cousins is getting married and the other one just had a baby. The attention won’t even be on you at all.” 

What Harry’s got going on should be the last thing they’re all concerned about. There are much more exciting things the others can talk about. But he knows that there will be some questioning, just because she’s a new face. And she’s insanely beautiful. Those things he’s prepared for, so they shouldn’t have any problems. 

He could tell that she was stunned when he pulled into his father’s driveway. He does have this obnoxious mansion that has a fountain out in front, so it does look like something out of a movie. But he’s been here so many times that it doesn’t even phase him anymore. He prefers his own home. 

There were already a few cars here and he knows that everyone is back in the garden. He can tell that (Y/N) is still nervous despite what he said, so he’s going to try his best to make this as painless as possible for her. 

“If you want to leave, just tell me. Or if anyone makes you feel uncomfortable, let me know. I’ll handle it.” She still looked frightened and anyone would be. He’s never brought a girlfriend home. Ever. Because they just weren’t as special as (Y/N) is. But she doesn’t know that. Well, she doesn’t know either of those things and she doesn’t have to.

“They’re going to hate me.” She covered her face with her hands, but he was quick to move her hands out of the way and squeeze them in his. 

“They’re actually going to love you and then be very disappointed when we break up.” She pouted at him like she likes to before she laughed. 

“Make sure you tell them it was your fault that we broke up, please.” He’s sure if he and (Y/N) ever did date that he’d be the reason for their breakup anyway. She’s much too sweet to ever do anything wrong. 

“I will. Ready?” She nodded hesitantly. He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand and before he could think about it for long, he was out of the car and on his way to her side to help her out. As soon as she was on her feet, she was grabbing his hand in both of hers and squeezing. 

“You got me, right?” He’s never seen her look so unsure of herself. It’s kind of cute, but he tries not to think too much into that realm of things. It wouldn’t be right of him. 

“I got you, (Y/N).” 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Dinner went fine. The food was good and there was plenty of wine. But (Y/N) just could not keep her hands off of Harry. 

While he didn’t seem to mind, she was trying to tell herself that she didn’t need to be holding his hand for the entirety of dinner or while they went around the beautiful garden in the back of the house to socialize. She also didn’t need to lean into his side or play with his fingers in her lap. But she couldn’t help it. 

It was helping a lot of her anxiety about meeting pretty much his entire family. He didn’t question it at all, he just completely gave up his hand for her to fidget with. 

When they first walked around the house to get to the garden where everyone was, Des had come up to him first with Harry’s mom to say hello and ask them how they’d been. (Y/N) has only met his mom a handful of times and she’s always been very nice, so she wasn’t as nervous about seeing her again. But now that she’s kind of dating her son, she feels a little bit of pressure. The conversation went smoothly though and Harry did most of the talking. 

Then it came time to meet everyone else. They all asked the same questions. Where did they meet, how long have they been together, very minor things. And while (Y/N) didn’t say much, she hopes that she didn’t come off as shy. She’s feeling a bit lightheaded about deceiving everyone here and making them believe that she’s dating Harry just as a business move. It doesn’t seem right, but she still plays along. 

And the one other thing keeping her calm would be the second glass of white wine she’s having. At first, she declined, wanting to remain poised and under control, but then she just got so in her head about what she’s doing that she allowed herself one glass. And then two. And now she’s talking to Harry’s cousin who just had a baby about the most random things and she’s having so much fun doing it. She feels more calm and relaxed having someone to talk to. It’s nice. And what’s also nice is Harry’s warm hand resting on her thigh while she twists his rings back and forth. 

She wouldn’t say his hand is up her dress, but it pretty much is. It’s under her skirt, but just sitting on the middle of her thigh. But she can’t lie and say it’s not making her squirm a little more than usual in her chair. He’s in his own conversation, so she doubts that he even notices it. Wine just makes her behave differently. And while she’s trying to keep her mind off of him and his hands, her body had other plans.

It’s forcing her to be aware that his fingers are so close to her. That his hands are so warm. And that’s bringing up many other issues with it. Basically, she’s sure her underwear are ruined now because they’re so wet. But Harry doesn’t have to know that part. He doesn’t. He can’t. 

So, she’s just pressing her legs together and hoping for the best. But she’s not doing a great job at it because his hand moved down to her knee and she went reaching for it to drag it right back up to where it had been. Maybe even higher. She could hear his words falter the tiniest bit, but other than that, he seemed unbothered by it. He did squeeze her thigh lightly, but that was it. 

At this point though, just sitting and talking at the table is making her restless. Especially with Harry’s fingertips brushing back and forth on top of her thigh. She excused herself to the bathroom, but Harry got up to show her the way. Apparently, the house is quite a maze. 

She knew from others getting up from the table that the bathroom was right inside the glass doors and to the left. But Harry took her inside and to the staircase. He guided her up the stairs and she didn’t even argue. The wine is making her much more agreeable than she usually is. 

He followed her right into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. She’s confused now because she really did have to pee, but now he’s here and she has to make him leave first. 

“What are you doing?” She whined, trying to push him towards the door. She needs a second to get herself back under control, away from him. She was getting way into her head. 

“Are you doing that on purpose?” He grabbed her wrists to stop her from pushing him. Not that it was doing anything to get him to go away, but he needed her full attention. 

“Doing what? I have to go now, can you please—” 

“Do you want me to touch you?” 

She’s not as surprised by his question because of the alcohol she’s had, so at first, she laughs it off. He can’t mean that because why would he? 

“Why would you ask that, Harry?” He stepped towards her until she was pressed against the counter top. The bathroom was big and echoey. There was a tub and walk-in shower and two sinks with a giant mirror behind them. It’s probably the biggest bathroom she’s ever been in. But now she’s hemmed up against the sinks with his body pushing against hers and he’s staring down at her like he wants to devour her.

“Because you’ve not been able to sit still all night. Can feel you trying to settle down, but it’s not working, is it? Need some help, sweetheart?” It’s just like the other day in his office, but they’re not at work. There’s no chance for someone to walk in. At least, not someone they work with. She hopes Harry’s family would just stay downstairs if they had to come in and use the bathroom. But he seems pretty confident that they will if he even asked that.

“No, I’m fine—” 

“Are you? Because I think you like my hands on you, (Y/N). You like me touching all over you, you just don’t want to admit it.” He ran his hand down her arm and down further until he reached the back of her knee. And then he lifted her leg up so he could have her leg locked around his waist. Now she’s holding onto his shoulders for dear life, trying to keep herself upright. 

She doesn’t mind that he’s touching her and it has little to do with the wine. She feels stone sober now after his very blunt question. And she almost wants to take him up on it. 

“So what if I do?” Her hands moved from his shoulders up to his hair where she pulled, making his head fall back for just a second before his darkened gaze met hers again. 

“Say it then. Tell me you want me to touch you.” (Y/N) is definitely not ashamed to tell him that now. She just wants what she wants and she’ll think about the consequences later. 

“Please kiss me.” 

And she knows Harry to be a tease, so of course he started with her shoulder and worked his way to her neck while she was trying to keep her hips still against him. She could feel all of him and if her underwear were ruined before, she might have to toss these ones after tonight. 

Once his mouth met the underside of her chin, she overtook the kiss. He was taking so long so she grabbed him by the jaw and pressed their mouths together. She could feel him melt right into the kiss and move his hands to her waist to squeeze her. Her arms came around his neck instead to pull him closer right as he tongue snuck its way into her mouth. She really didn’t mind that because she’d been waiting to do it, but let him take the initiative. 

And now he’s hurrying to get her sitting on the counter so he can feel her thighs wrapped around him. He never knew that shy little (Y/N) could be so . . .  not shy. Like right now, she’s licking into his mouth while moaning. He never pictured this happening ever. He knows that the dinner table is going to be wondering where they went soon, but he just can’t push himself away. She tastes like the wine she’s drinking and whatever fruity lip gloss she’d put on before coming. And he can’t get enough. 

He figured this would be a problem. He knew that eventually, playing pretend would backfire, he just didn’t think it’d be so soon. But he had to go and tease her until she snapped. And that very well may be the reason why her pretty thighs are so tight around him and why she keeps tugging on his hair, hard enough to make his eyes roll back. He just didn’t think she’d be this good. And he really wishes she wasn’t. Because now that he’s gotten a taste, he’s never going to want anyone else. 

Unfortunately, it was her that pulled away. Apparently, common sense reached her first. She roughly shoved his shoulders back and watched him with wide eyes and a heaving chest. 

“That did not happen!” And now she’s up off the sink, pacing and muttering things to herself that he didn’t bother to listen to. 

“Hey, sweetheart, no matter how bad you want it to not have happened, it did, and it’s not that serious.” She stopped her pacing and turned to him with her hands on her hips. 

“Not that serious? I kissed my boss! And I liked it!” She slapped her hands over her mouth and shook her head at him. “I didn’t say that!” He laughed, leaning against the counter, watching her spiral even more. 

“It’s okay. I liked it too.” He doesn’t see the problem. They both liked it and just because he’s her boss doesn’t mean anything. Maybe it started as something pretend, but Harry knew he’d have a hard time with that anyway. (Y/N) is amazing and she always has been. But now that they’ve kissed and he’s felt her body on his, he doesn’t think he’ll ever go back. But he’s not going to admit that right now while she’s freaking out. He’ll wait until she’s calm and has time to think. 

“You can’t just say that, Harry! We  should get back to the table. It’s been long enough.” He didn’t fight her on it. He just opened the bathroom door and led her back to the garden. He could feel her hand shaking in his and he didn’t know why. But he didn’t let her go until they were sitting again and (Y/N) had her wine glass to her mouth. 

The rest of dinner went nicely. (Y/N) was practically buzzing in her chair and he knew that meant she wanted to leave, so he took that as his cue to tell everyone goodnight and get (Y/N) home. She was quiet the entire car ride, but he expected that. She must have been thinking and that’s fine. He hopes it was all good things. He put the car in park at the curb in front of her apartment and she turned to him, looking slightly nervous. 

“I’m sorry for kissing you.” 

“I’m not.” She scoffed, looking away from him for just a moment to find her composure. 

“I just mean . . . you know.” 

“I know, love. Have a good night.” She nodded, blinking a few times before looking back at him. 

“I would invite you in, but it’s a Sunday night and I don’t trust myself.” Who knows how far she’d take it if there was a bed nearby, so she just shouldn’t. 

“That’s okay. Sleep well, (Y/N).” She pushed the door open and stepped out. She did lean down into the car to send him one last wave. 

“See you tomorrow, Mister Styles.” 

“Can’t wait.” She felt her face heat up and took that as a sign to just shut the door and go inside. Because tonight had been a lot. And she just needs a good night’s rest and it’ll all be better. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“(Y/N). You’ll never guess,” He came striding out of his office with a grin on. She knew he must’ve gotten some type of good news. He stopped in front of her desk and leaned down to her. “My father is very pleased with us. He’s going to watch me for a few weeks and make sure I stay on top of things and if all is well, I’ve got the job.” 

“That’s great, Harry.” She knew he’d get it anyway. Why wouldn’t he? 

“All thanks to you.” 

They hadn’t said much about the kissing thing. She did greet him this morning with a coffee and warm cheeks, but he just smirked at her and thanked her. But she doesn’t mind it. So what she’d been thinking about it all night before and even struggled falling asleep. So what. It didn’t have to mean anything. It was all in the heat of the moment. 

“You’re welcome.” She quipped back, making him laugh and reach over to her to run his hand over her shoulder. 

“Meet me in my office in a few, please. We’ve got some work to do.” 

Little did (Y/N) know that “work” meant sitting on top of his with her blouse halfway off as they did their best to swallow each other. She really didn’t expect it. She thought he’d sweep it under the rug and forget about it. Instead, he’s got his hands up her skirt and is feeling all over her thighs. 

He pulled away from her, reluctantly, and breathless, to stare at her. 

“I love kissing you, you make me crazy, (Y/N). Don’t want to stop.” And she went right back in to press their lips together and lead them into another bout of passionate kissing. 

This went on for much longer than she thought, but by the time she accidentally looked up at the clock on the wall, she’d been in his lap for twenty minutes. 

“Oh my gosh. I need to go, it’s almost lunch time.” She pulled herself off of him and righted her blouse before fixing her skirt. 

“Fine. Leave me.” He said dramatically, making her giggle. He has a meeting to get to anyway. So, she’ll pick up his lunch and have it here for him when he returns. And hopefully there will be a redo of what they just did. 

“I’ll be back.” She went to step away from him, but he grabbed her hand, effectively halting her from going anywhere. And he almost looked nervous all of a sudden. 

“Would you ever consider going on a real date with me?” 

And he’s left her speechless because she didn’t think he wanted anything more than to fool around, but apparently, that’s not that case. But she doesn’t mind. She’s gotten to know Harry more in the past few weeks than she has in three years. And while she knew him well then, some things have changed. 

“I think I would like that.” His fingers slipped between hers and he squeezed, smiling at her. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. I would.” She should’ve known something like this would happen. How could she have ever resisted him?   

“Okay. Let me know when you’re free then, alright?” She nodded, trying to walk out of his office and not run back to kiss him. But she’s supposed to meet Riley and she doesn’t really have time to mess around. Even though she really, really wants to. 

All throughout lunch, she was trying not to look so lovestruck and dreamy after seeing Harry. She didn’t want any questions from Riley right now even though she interrogated her quite a bit about what happened in the lobby. But she just brushed it off as him being silly. She really wants to gush to someone about it, but no one can know about their little deal. (Y/N) supposes that now that it’s turning into more, she could tell her then. That they’re dating. But for right now, she’s keeping it all hidden. 

She picked up Harry’s lunch and then walked back to the building with Riley. Is it bad that she can’t wait to see him again? She’s been gone for thirty minutes and all she can think about is being near him again.

He wasn’t in his office when she dropped the food off, so he must still be stuck in the meeting. She just set the bag of food on his desk before going back to her own. She got about thirty minutes of work done before Harry left his meeting and walked by her, distracting her from what she was doing. He blew her a discreet kiss before strolling into his office and shutting the door. She’ll be freed up in just a few minutes and then she can go sit with him for a minute and pretend to work even more. She knows she’ll get nothing done because all she can think about is their soon-to-be date. 

Right as she was standing to walk to his office, the phone on her desk rang. She rolled her eyes before picking it up and holding it to her ear. 

“Mister Styles’ office.” 

“Hi. Can you transfer me to Harry? I need to talk to him.” Normally, she would, but she knows he’s eating lunch and would probably not like to be disturbed. 

“He’s busy at the moment, can I take a message?” She reached for a pen and the bright pink sticky notes on the corner of her desk and waited for the woman on the phone. 

“Yeah. Tell him it’s Natalie and I had so much fun last night. He needs to call me back.” 

She didn’t move. All she did was scribble down the phone number Natalie left for him to call her back with and wish her a good day. Usually when she takes messages for him, she’ll write down the name of the person, the context of the call, and a number to reach them again. So she did all of that. While not even breathing. 

(Y/N) is well aware of who Natalie is. She can’t believe she didn’t recognize her voice. About a year ago, she was around all the time. Calling and visiting Harry at the office. He never said much to her about Natalie, but she assumed she was a girlfriend. And they’d been together for almost eight months, but suddenly, she stopped calling and stopped showing up, so (Y/N) figured they were done. And she never thought about her again until now. Now when Harry just asked her out on a real date, after he kissed her the night before, but he also spent that same night with his ex after he dropped her off. 

She plucked the sticky note from her desk and made her way to his office. Through the closed door she could see he was on the phone, but she didn’t care. She pushed the door open and he smiled at her. He smiled. She smiled right back and stopped in front of him. She slammed the sticky note right down in front of him and he sat back like he hadn’t expected it. He looked confused and told the person on the phone to hold on. 

“I’m on with my father, what’s—”

“Natalie called.” 

Once again, she didn’t give him the opportunity to speak, much less make an excuse about what had happened the night before. She just walked right out of his office and shut the door behind her. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

i didn't even mean for that to happen, but i wrote this late last night and decided to just roll with it 😁 and if I missed you in the tags i’m so sorry, let me know! and if there’s anything weird in this, just know i was half asleep while looking over this soo :)

and i’m still working on the next piece (dad’s bsf/whatever lol) but I hope to have that out by the weekend. someone hold me accountable 😭

Perking up at the sound of her name, she nodded on instinct. "Mhm," she hummed absently. 

"What did I just say?" He was unimpressed—disbelieving. 

(Y/N) stayed silent. 

A heavy sigh fell from her father's lips. His eyes dimmed fro the angry fire she'd spotted before, leveling to disappointed embers the longer he looked at her. 

"This is what I mean, (Y/N)," he continued, harshly spitting out her name, "You don't care. Never have you thought about the consequences to your actions. You're too selfish to think of anyone but yourself!" The blaze sparked up once more as he flicked his gaze to the glossy tabloid splayed across his desk. "Can you even comprehend what this"—he gritted out the word, tapping his finger against the photo—"means for me? My investors are going to have my ass only Monday because you don't know how to control yourself for five minutes." 

She squirmed in her spot. Her gaze stayed locked on the tabloid cover. She was pictured with bitter features, her brows twisted in anger and eyes were ablaze. Her hand was outstretched as she dumped a full glass of rosé on Damien Moore's perfect, blonde head. Several angles were posted, documenting her gaped lips as she spat out venomous words while Damien looked on with seemingly innocent, wide blue eyes. The last in the series showed her walking out with the wine dripping down his features as he looked on in shock. A bold headline said: "Whore-mones or Another Drunken Rage?" 

(Y/N) swallowed as she took the scene in. 

Perfectly manicured nails clashed in her lap, the edges of her acrylics being worn dull from the restless ministrations. 

"Do you want me to fail?" her father prodded, unsatisfied with her silence. 

"It's not what it looks like—," she floundered, unable to keep her feelings out of it after looking at those photos, "He—Damien—" 

"It does not matter what happened, (Y/N)! This is what it looks like and that is what people are going to believe and what they are going to care about!" He seethed as he looked at her, (Y/N) unsurprised. "You're going to make us lose everything if you keep this up, do you understand that? Your apartment, everything you have in Paris, your stupid shopping sprees—you'll actually have to work if you want any of that. Did you think of any of that?" 

His harsh words slipped around her, filling every breath of air she pulled into her lungs. Any fight she had, any want to defend herself or give any kind of explanation, left her in an instant. "No," she answered, resigned. 

"I didn't fucking think so. You never think, anyway." 

(Y/N) just looked over his shoulder. Her gaze didn't shift even as his voice continued on, droning with insults and degrading remarks. 

She hadn't even known she was being photographed that day. There wasn't a single flash or shutter of a camera. The restaurant had even gone out of their way to assure them that no one would be able to slip inside without a reservation or loiter along the sidewalk in wait. 

But, inside sources and photographers always found a way, she supposed. Especially since it wasn't just her, it was her and Damien Moore on something that looked like it could have been a date. Of course paparazzi were going to find a way to get a photo of them together—anything to help fuel the rumors filling gossip pages and social media. 

This particularly source even went so far as to claim they were close enough to overhear the argument that sparked the thrown wine. Supposedly, (Y/N) had been seeing someone behind Damien's back (something that was impossible given the fact she had Damien weren't even talking like that, let alone in an exclusive relationship), and when he confronted her she blew up. She was so hopped up on her "whore-mones" as the headline so eloquently put it, and the obviously unfinished glass of wine, that she just had to throw the drink in his face. 

Because of course it was (Y/N)'s fault. Never could it have anything to do with Damien. He was the sterling Yale grad that came from the perfect family, while she was the "party girl" with divorced parents and a wild past. It was always going to be her fault, because that was more interesting than checking your sources. 

At least, that's what the "journalists" and "sources" said. 

It came with the territory, her dad had told her when she was freshly sixteen and photographers started waiting outside her private school. If you wanted to make the kind of money he made and be important in this world, there was going to be consequences, that's what he'd said when he saw the first photos of her and her friends having lunch on the quad. She was a pretty girl, anyway, of course there were going to be photos taken of her. She might as well take advantage of it instead of whining. 

She became a tabloid bunny before she had even turned eighteen, with every misstep documented on the internet and whatever publication bought the photos as exclusives. Because of that, this lashing was nothing to her. She'd "poorly reflected the family image" enough time to let her dad's words roll off of her. 

Her father was going to probably send her to the home in Malibu or whatever vacation rental was farthest from New York until he could stomach seeing her again. She'd happily take whatever location; it wasn't like she wanted to see him either. 

"(Y/N), we can't keep doing this." Finally focusing her gaze, she saw her father sitting with his eyes sealed closed, his thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose. "I can't keep doing this." 

As much as she was numb to moments like these, it was when his anger melted away and she was left with a disappointed father that she felt cracks appear in her walls. The little girl inside still ached to see her daddy so upset with her; so disappointed he couldn't even look at her. 

"I'm sorry," she offered, something genuine lying beneath the deadpan tone. 

"I'm sure you are," he sighed, "But, that's not enough anymore." 

Rolling her lips between her teeth, lipgloss smearing across her pout, she stayed quiet.

"At this point, it's like you need a babysitter again. You can't be left by yourself and expected to behave." 

Not this again, she wanted to grumble. Her last "babysitter" was nothing more than an uppity handler that cared more about PR rather than her actual well being. 

Beginning to shake her head, (Y/N) tried to politely decline before he steamrolled over her. 

"I'm going to have to hire someone, whether you want it or not. A bodyguard, a handler, or something, just to follow you around and keep you out of trouble." 

Her lashes fluttered as her eyes widened at his plan. Her last handler didn't do more than text her throughout the day and meet with her once a week. He wanted someone on her back all the time?

"Don't you think that's a little extreme?" 

He still wouldn't look at her as he spoke, "Since you keep acting like a child, that's how I'm going to have to treat you." 

A slight panic sparked in the pit of her stomach. If she couldn't have her freedom, then what was any of this for? None of this—putting up with her father, allowing him to jerk her around, take his berating—was fucking worth it, then. 

"Dad, seriously," she tried again, her hands beginning to shake, "Those pictures aren't what it looks like, I promise." 

"And the others?" he asked sharply, whipping his gaze to match hers intently, "The one with you and Francesca sneaking out of a club at three in the morning when you were nineteen? The one of you screaming at Terra at her birthday party? Or, of course, the clips of you showing off your underwear while getting out of some random man's car?" 

(Y/N) shut down at the mention of her most famous and well photographed mistakes. He never bothered to get her side of the story to those photos either, he just liked to bring them up to taunt her. He'd rather believe an "insider" over his daughter. It didn't matter that she was his family. It only mattered what his investors thought, or the men at the country club, or whoever he was trying to cozy up to for his benefit. Every attempt to clear her name was thrown out; not even when she showed him that one of these insiders had found her home address and started sending her letters. Not even when she told him she was beginning to get scared did he even pretend to care. 

"That's what I thought," her father continued after she left them in silence, "Now, I'm going to have to hire someone to ensure you don't keep causing trouble, and you are going to respect them. If you want any chance of me letting this go, you're going to respect them more than you apparently respect me." 

She stayed quiet. There wasn't anything she could add to this. 

"Is there anything you want to say?" he pressed. A faux offer of debate. 

(Y/N) only shook her head. 

"Fine," he spat out, "Then go to bed. I don't want to see you for the rest of the night."

She was up and out of her seat immediately, not wasting a single second before her Dior heels were rapidly clacking over the cherrywood floors of her father's office. Her eyes were on the ground, watching the transition between the wood to the sparkling marble throughout the rest of the flawless Upstate mansion. Everything was high-end and fine, perfect and unburdened. It was full of everything her dad wanted her to be but she could never manage to be as well behaved as a lamp or as quiet as a Persian rug. 

Trailing through the labyrinth of staircases and sealed doors, (Y/N) beelined to her childhood room. It was left exactly how it had been when she moved out at nineteen. It had way too much gold and hidden compartments her friends made to hide liquor for their slumber parties. Her bed was too big with a mattress that was too stiff and sheets too starchy from disuse. 

Her dad never bothered to clear it out or even change a single piece of furniture—not because he cared or wanted her to have a space in his life, but because he didn't think of her enough to even remember this was here. 

Shedding her Chanel sweater and dropping her skirt to puddle at her feet, (Y/N) dressed down to her undergarments before stealing an oversized shirt from a film festival she and Francesca had been invited to at seventeen. The fabric was soft and worn as it fell to the middle of her thighs, the fit slouching and stretched just like it was all those years ago. 

That was all the comfort she could find as she slipped into bed, the sheets dragging across her bare legs. With her head cushioned by an overstuffed pillow, (Y/N) shuttered her eyes as she laid of on her back. Taking in deep breaths, she did her best to keep herself from shedding any tears. 

There wasn't a single reason she should cry over her father. There was nothing there for her to be upset over; none of his words sliced the way he thought they did, that father-daughter bond having been severed when she was way too young. Her efforts were better utilized trying to figure out how to get out of this whole thing. 

Aside from the fact she didn't want a handler—or whatever this babysitter's official title would be—following her around, she needed her freedom. Having the space away from her father's world was the only thing keeping her sane, even if she was barely hanging on. 

She'd been suffocated enough of her life, she needed to find a way to get this pair of strangling hands off of her neck sooner rather than later.

—————

"He literally arranged a flight for me to meet him in Greece, but he only ever messages me after ten like I'm a booty call or something."

Francesca's babbling complaints were some of her favorite things. It was fun hearing what the biggest problems in her life were, as if it was really such a bad thing to have a billionaire entertaining a romance with you. Even if it only occurred after ten p.m.

"Isn't there a time difference between here and Greece?" (Y/N) asked, the Prada and Dior bags in the crook of her elbow brushing against each other as she raised her hand to flick a strand of hair off of her shoulder. Summer was beginning to fall over the city, that much she could tell from the humid breeze twirling around them. 

"I mean sure, but that's not the point," Fran argued, breathing out a frustrated sigh, "It's like he doesn't think I'll ghost him if he starts annoying me. He's not the only one with a yacht, you know." 

"I know, bu—" 

(Y/N) was cut off by the sound of her phone vibrating in her bag, the device rattling against her lipgloss tube. Francesca paused her story, watching as (Y/N) pulled her phone out of her bag. Clocking the name on the screen, she had to keep from rolling her eyes. There had already been a photographer taking photos of them through the windows of Prada and she wasn't sure if they'd followed, but a picture of her rolling her eyes before answering the phone would surely be spun into something sensational.

"Hold on, it's my dad," she mumbled before pressing the phone to her ear. 

Without waiting for a greeting, her father brightened through the receiver with a call of her name. "(Y/N)! Are you still out with Francesca?" She could hear his smile through the phone. The investor meeting must have gone better than he thought. 

"Yeah," she answered absently, "We just finished lunch and shopping. I think we're going to go back to my apartment before we go out tonight. Why?" 

"Would you be able to come home this afternoon, instead? There's someone I want you to meet."

The lax in her muscles evaporated at his words. Though it was posed as a question, she knew there was only one answer he would accept. It was never a good thing when he wanted her to meet someone, but it was a required thing she'd learned. More often than not, he wanted her to meet an investor's son, or some man he drank too much with at the country club. 

Cautiously, she asked, "Who is it?" 

"It's a surprise," he beamed over the phone, "Drop off your things and I'll have one of the drivers come to pick you up." 

"I mean, I think Franny actually made reservations at—" 

This time around, her father's voice had a curt edge underneath the faux sweetness he started the call with. "I think you're going to have to tell Francesca that you need to reschedule, sweetie," he said, voice too pleasant, "I need you to come home tonight." 

Swallowing around her dry throat, (Y/N) resigned herself to the change in the day's plans. "Okay, dad," she muttered. 

"See you soon, honey! Love you!" 

(Y/N) didn't bother to reciprocate his performance, instead just hanging up. He wouldn't shout at her over the dropped call if someone else was present anyway, might as well take advantage she decided.

Beside him, Francesca looked at her with a matching pout. "You have to go home, huh?" 

"Yeah," (Y/N) breathed, dropping her phone back into her purse as they crossed the busy intersection, "My dad wants me to meet one of his friends or something." 

Francesca affectionately bumped against Y/N's shoulder as the car taking them back to her apartment came into view. "Well, if you don't like this one, send me his number and I'll take him off your hands. Just make sure he also has a yacht in Greece." 

Though her features stretched into a smile with a bubbling laugh, (Y/N) wasn't too impressed with Francesca's comment. While she was the best friend (Y/N) had ever had, the only person that knew much about what happened at home and why she would do next to anything to avoid her father, Francesca didn't get it. She supported (Y/N) and didn't mind being the listening ear and the shoulder to lean on, but she never really understood why certain things bothered (Y/N). Everything was very light-hearted in Franny's eyes—there was never a reason not to be receptive if a rich man wanted to buy her a drink or a company wanted to use her likeness without permission. Everything was an opportunity, not a crossed boundary. 

"I doubt he will," (Y/N) played along, setting her shopping bags at her feet after climbing into the black car, "But I'll make sure to put in a good word for you in case he has one in Florence." 

Francesca's laugh filled the cab of the car though (Y/N) was already back home with her father, trying to navigate her way out of whatever he planned. 

—————

"Thank you, Sully," (Y/N) chirped as her driver helped her step out of the car. 

"My pleasure, Ms. (Y/N)," he offered, waiting for her to steady herself over the gravel of her father's long driveway, "Also, I wanted to say thank you again for the clothing you passed on to my daughter. She loved her prom dress and is already asking her mom if she can get it preserved so she can keep it forever. Thank you for taking the time and picking some things out for her—it made her night." 

"Of course," she bubbled, allowing Sully to escort her to the front door of the mansion, "I'm so happy she liked any of it! Let me know if she needs anything else for graduation or anything at all."

The smile on his face made it especially worth it to let go of her favorite vintage Dior gown. 

Waving goodbye to Sully, (Y/N) stepped over the threshold of the front door, already regretting not fighting harder to get out of this. Goosebumps touched her skin as the temperature dropped. She shut the warmth outside behind her, the lock ensuring nothing comforting could follow her into the lion's den.

Despite the place being her childhood home, there was nothing left for her here, she knew that. It barely even resembled the same place she used to celebrate holidays and share tense family dinners in. Her dad's favorite interior designer had the pleasure of redecorating the place every few years, erasing anything that made it not look like a catalogue. 

Her heels clicked over the floors as she made her way up to his office. She wanted to take her time, but she was sure her father already knew she was there. It was better to refrain from keeping him waiting. 

Scaling the stairs, she heard a pair of voices and distant laughter. She didn't need to see the space to know her dad had probably cracked open the decanter of whiskey he had on display on one of his shelves, crystal glasses filled for the both of them. It wasn't hard to imagine the kinds of lines her dad would offer in an attempt to schmooze with whoever was waiting for her. She'd heard it all dozens of times at this point. 

The other voice, though, took her by surprise. This one was too deep and mature to be any kind of investor's son, and too sober and untainted by years of smoking cigars to be one of the men at the country club. Her steps slowed some. Her expectations shifted as she trailed down the hallway in the direction of the office, heels muffled by the long rug under her feet. 

With the heavy door to his office in front of her, (Y/N) carefully knocked on the panel, listening as the voices inside stilled at her disruption. Typically, her father would just grunt a permission of entrance or already be raging when she stepped over the threshold, but she knew he was committed to whatever show he was putting on when he opened the door for her himself.

"(Y/N), sweetie," he greeted her, toothy smile on his lips. "Thank you for coming so quickly; I know you were busy with Francesca, but I'm happy you're here." 

If that wasn't enough, the hug he pulled her into was more than alarming. The last time he hugged her when cameras weren't present was the day her parents told her they were divorcing.  She didn't even know how to reciprocate. 

Before she had a chance to screw her head on right, he pulled away and began leading her inside his office. 

"Of course," she chirped, falling into her designated role for this scene. She kept her gaze high as she followed him in, feigning confidence in the midst of whoever it was that was awaiting her. 

"I have someone special for you to meet," he continued, pitching his voice louder as to catch the attention of the one other in the room. 

Around his shoulder, (Y/N) spotted a head of brown hair, black clothing stretched around broad shoulders and tan skin on the back of their neck. They faced forward despite the obvious way her father was trying to catch their attention. Pacing her breathing, (Y/N) fell into the loving daughter character, willing to do anything for her doting father. 

Welcome to the show. She just hoped it would be a short viewing. 

Approaching the pair of chairs positioned before the cherry-stained desk, her father held out a sweeping hand. "Harry," he said, looking to his guest, "This is my daughter, (Y/N)." 

At the sound of his name, the guest—Harry—stood from where he was sitting, moving with calculated grace as he turned to face the both of them. He stepped away from the cushioned seats, a stoic expression on his features as he looked towards her. 

He wore all black down to his shoes, standing taller than her father's height. His arms and chest were thick with muscle, tan skin and tattoos littering the space. He had beetles and mermaids, hearts and roses inked across, some sketches more faded than others. A cross had even been needed into his hand. The chain of a necklace glimmered in the lowlight though any pendant that may be attached were hidden under the neckline of his top. Moving up the column of his throat, his face was made of hard planes and sharp angles. His nose was strong and straight. Stubble shown blonde in the light across the bottom half of his face, a mole off to the side of his mouth. Everything softened as she matched his eye contact, mossy jade with sparkles of sunlight flecked through. Long curling lashes framed his gaze. 

He was gorgeous, that's for sure. Not the usual kind of person her father associated with. He must be some kind of new money millionaire, easily fooled by her father's charms. 

The man took her in as well, his gaze observant as if there was a notepad he had in his head to take down every detail of her. It didn't feel like the affectionate gaze she'd felt before tracing down her body. Especially with the way his practiced expression stayed level, a wall hidden behind his eyes. 

Nonetheless, she kept her facade up and ready, a beaming smile on her face. She reached out her delicately manicured hand, palm smelling of the Miss Dior cream she'd rubbed over her hands on the car ride over. 

"Nice to meet you, Harry," she greeted, a mild smile on her face. 

His grip was strong as he grabbed her hand, palm to palm with callouses matching the soft parts of her own. "Likewise." 

(Y/N) couldn't help but to recoil some as she retracted her hand. It wasn't a new reaction, especially some people who met her after reading too much into the tabloid stories and anonymous blogs. Half the time strangers waited for her to drunkenly blow up on them. Though it wasn't a typical reaction from those who requested to meet her. 

Her father didn't seem to pay any mind to the chilled interaction, rounding the width of his desk to take his throne on the other side, leaving (Y/N) and Harry to settle beside each other across from him. 

"Remember when we decided you wanted extra guidance, (Y/N)?" her dad asked, bleached white smile on his face, "After everything with Damien recently?" 

Ice touched her spine as she took in his sticky sweet words. She knew where this meeting was going now. 

As much as he tried to hide behind the "we" words and his fake smile, (Y/N) knew this wasn't some investor sitting beside her now. 

Harry was her new cage. 

"I remember," she offered, her own voice sounding far away. 

"Well," he continued with a flourish leaning over his desk with his elbow propped on the wood, "Harry, here, is that guidance we were looking for.  He used to work for Camila and Monroe as their head of security, but he's agreed to be your personal bodyguard until you're back on track." He looked too proud of himself as he spoke. "He's going to take good care of you, sweetie."  

Bodyguard. 

Her personal bodyguard. 

When her father pitched this whole idea and sent her to her room like a child, she honestly figured it would be another handler he would find for her. While it wasn't ideal, she knew she could deal with a handler. She could deal with an uppity woman bossing her around from a distance; she could deal with painting a facade and adhering to her father's guidelines through a handler. 

But, a bodyguard—or personal security, as he so delicately put it—was a different story. 

Harry would be tasked with following her everywhere. He'd have access to her home, access to the person she was around her friends, who she was around her father. Downtime would no longer be a thing with Harry around—recovery and privacy being thrown out. 

Francesca had a bodyguard when they were teenagers. Though it was only over the summers when they weren't away at school, those months he was present were... odd to (Y/N). He wasn't a mean man, but he was always there. Franny wasn't as bothered as she was, but (Y/N) felt like there was no privacy—no space to talk to her best friend about anything. He was always there listening, watching, and anticipating any need for protection. She felt exposed in his presence, no secrets truly secret or downtime when someone constantly had eyes on them. 

If this arrangement was anything like that, (Y/N) didn't know if her sanity was going to survive these months. 

Despite her insides beginning to churn, her glossy-lipped smile stayed intact with stiff cheeks. "Wow! That's amazing!" 

Her performance must have been subpar if the way her father flashed his gaze at her, a glance that hardened a little too much. She needed to be trying harder, was what he was telling her. She wasn't being perfect like he wanted. 

"I've already warned him about your history of outbursts," her father said, a stealthy jab at her, "and we discussed everything with Damien. I think he's up for the challenge." 

It was an interesting feeling being called a "challenge" by her own father, knowing he must have shared much more degrading comments behind her back disguised as warranted advice. It was all preparation, he probably thought. A proper warning. 

She shoved that feeling down—whatever that feeling was called—and instead focused on her role. As long as she bubbled, chirped, and smiled, she could get out of this room sooner rather than later. 

"Good," she said, a breathy laugh floating out with her voice, "I'll try not to give you any surprises, then." Looking to Harry, she leaned into her persona and played along. He didn't glance at her once, keeping his gaze forward on her father as if he were watching a movie. 

"There won't be any surprises, actually, right (Y/N)?" her father said, a tad too sharp under his act. 

"Right," she settled, calming under the weight of the room. 

Silence settled over, neither she nor her father plucking up the words while Harry stayed an observing pillar. 

This was her opening. If she acted fast, she could get out of here before either of them could stop her. 

"It was really nice to meet you, Harry," she said politely, her fingers curling around the arms of her chair, "Thank you for coming to work with us. I actually have early breakfast plans with Fran tomorrow morning back in the city, so I should probably start hea—" 

"Actually," her father cut her off sharply, his eyes hardening as they landed on her, "I was hoping you would stay for dinner tonight, sweetie. After Harry and I finish ironing out his contract, I wanted to talk to you some more before he officially started with you." 

Instinctively, she wanted to fight him on this. Spending another night here less than a month after the last time she had a breakdown here wasn't on the top of her list of wants, currently. But, knowing there was someone here already expecting the worst from her, forced her to settle. If she talked back it would only reinforce everything her father probably spouted off about her earlier. 

"Okay," she smiled, standing to her feet before inching towards he door, "I'll wait in my room then and give you guys some privacy." 

While her father offered a small dismissal to her in the form of a stuff smile and a promise to call her for dinner, Harry didn't bother to look twice at her. She didn't waste a moment before she was rushing back to her room. She didn't care if they could hear the pacing of her heels over the floors, knowing she was all but running away from that room. 

After twisting the lock on her bedroom door, (Y/N) collapsed onto her bed. Her breathing was uneven, chest rising and falling a little too fast for her head to stay clear. Pinpricks of static began to dance on her palms, fingertips beginning to go numb. A hole began to develop in the pit of her stomach. 

This might be one of the last real moments of alone time for the next couple of months, and she was spending it on the verge of a panic attack. 

(Y/N) knew her dad didn't trust her, but to have someone on his payroll whose only purpose was to follow her around stung more than she was willing to admit. She wasn't a stupid child despite how much he wanted to believe that. 

Harry wasn't there to protect her, she knew that. He was a hired hand to put her back in her place every time her father wasn't there to do it himself. He was another body to crowd her into a corner and suffocate her as long as she kept smiling. Harry was another reminder that nothing was allowed to be hers; her thoughts, her time, her space was to be shared just like the rest of herself.

Besides, Harry might be the kind of person willing to sell stories to tabloids. Who better than someone tasked with observing her every mood to be an "insider"? It wouldn't be the first time a Secrets Edition came out about her. 

With her eyes fixed to a knot swirling in the marble flooring, (Y/N) tried to unlatch the phantom hands wrapped around her neck. 

What was going to be left of her if she was constantly going to be performing? 

Shuttering her eyes, (Y/N) fisted her hands in her lap, the hem of her Dior minidress caught in the fray. She needed to calm down. 

No matter what, she was still luckier than most people in this world. She needed to keep that in mind if she was going to keep her head on straight. She was going to figure this out, and she was going to be okay even if a tiny bit cracked at the edges. 

Curling up on her dusty bed, she leveled her breathing as much as she could despite the shuddering of her lungs. Every spiraling thought had to be neatly rolled up and put away.

A breakdown was probably on the list of banned surprises her father had in mind, anyway.

—————

Poking at her dry salad, (Y/N) watched the drops of condensation river down her glass of lemon water. Across from her, her father tore at his too-scorched steak, a side of hearty potatoes and glass of whiskey to compliment the meat. 

He hadn't said a word to her since she sat down, instead opting to focus on his tailored dinner while she was left with her pre-arranged salad. It was more lady-like, he'd told her once before, to eat like a rabbit. Leave the big things to men—they needed it after running the world, she'd heard him joke though she's sure it wasn't a joke to him.

As heavy as the silence was weighing on her, she wasn't going to be the first one to speak either. He was the one that requested she spend dinner with him, he was going to have to lead the conversation. That left only the clicking of utensils against the fine china plates. 

Suddenly piping up, (Y/N) lifted her gaze to her father's as he spoke, "You're going to have to start being nice to Harry, you know. He's not going away until I say, and I could tell you were being fake today. If you're going to lie, at least try harder."

As if her father wasn't the king of phony facades and fake personality traits. He was the one that shattered that illusion the second he couldn't hide his temper with her earlier. It didn't take much to notice he didn't actually care about her. 

Those hours in her room left her exhausted, though. She'd cried off and on until she finally convinced herself everything was fine and none of it truly mattered in the grand scheme of things; that her discomfort and fear was something minuscule enough to be pushed to the side and forgotten. She didn't have it in her to debate with him. 

"Yeah," she dejectedly agreed, running her fork through the leafy greens on her plate, "Sorry about that." 

Apparently, that was the worst thing she could have uttered with the way her father dropped his fork to clatter against his plate with his grip tightening on the handle of his steak knife. His jaw tensed, lips pinched. 

"I don't care how you feel about this, (Y/N)," he gritted out, "Don't think I don't mean that. You are going to show him some respect, listen to everything he says, and behave accordingly. Otherwise, he has full permission to correct you as he sees fit. And, he will tell me every time he has to correct you, so keep in mind that any kind of punishment he gives—mine will be ten times worse." 

She didn't doubt a word he said. If this was the kind of conversation he and Harry had after she left the room, there was no telling what kind of person her new security had to be to agree to a job with terms like these. She lacked faith in just how fairly he would "correct" her if his thoughts aligned with her father's. 

"Okay," (Y/N) mumbled, all the fight in her gone for the day. 

Her father sighed, disappointed as per usual. "This is going to be good for you," he told her, condescension tainting his tone, "I know you don't understand that now, but it will be. I just want you to settle down and stop giving people something to talk about. There's no reason to act like that if you want attention. You're pretty enough, people are already looking—there's no reason to be a bitch, too." Picking up his fork, he steadied his steak as he sliced off another too-tough bite. "Your life could be so much different—Damien might even take you back if you just apologized." 

The ice cubes in her drink slid against one another, melting in her water. "Okay." 

Chewing down his bite, her father took a long pull from his whiskey. 

"He starts with you on Friday. I told him to take a look at your apartment and make sure there isn't anything or anyone that isn't supposed to be there." His pointed gaze landed on her over the rim of his glass. "I will hear about everything, please remember that." 

His thinly veiled threat swept over her with nothing more than a meaningless brush. She kept her eyes on the drip of water traveling down the side of her glass. A melting ice cube clinked against the side. 

"Okay." 

—————

Phone pressed to her ear, (Y/N) flipped through her mail while Francesca bubbled in her ear. No matter how hard she tried to condition herself to be the same, Fran was always a much better morning person than she. 

"When do you see him again? Do you know yet, or is that a mystery, too?" Francesca was a little too excited to hear how inexpressive Harry had been in her father's office. His stoic coldness translated to mysterious heat to her. 

"My dad said he was supposed to start today, but I'm not sure. I woke up early and made an extra smoothie just in case, but he still hasn't shown." 

The envelopes in front of her were nothing but junk so far, her attention waning. 

"Ooh!" Francesca sang over the phone, "I'm so excited to meet him! We're still on for brunch this Sunday, right?" 

(Y/N) faltered where she stood, hands pausing on the collection of mail. "I don't know, Fran," she muttered, shifting her weight over the tiles of her kitchen, "I just—... He'd have to come with me." 

"I know, that's the point!" she bubbled, "You said he was cute and young, I want to meet him." 

"I know, but I wanted to talk about stuff, you know," (Y/N) pointed out. 

"And we will! You remember Barry from when we were in school, right? I promise you, your guy isn't going to care about anything going on as long as you aren't in danger," Francesca continued, referencing her security form when they were young. 

Sighing, (Y/N) wanted to correct Franny. Harry wasn't going to be eyeing out any suspects or worst case scenario moments, not if he was following her father's directions. He would be listening in and watching her for any and all infractions she could commit, including any topic of discussion that might be considered unbecoming. 

Francesca must have picked up on her lingering reluctance through the phone. "(Y/N), please," she pouted, "I know you're stressed and all about everything, but I don't want this to take you away from me. You can still live your life, you'll just have an extra shadow. That's all." 

A beat passed before she felt herself resign. "Okay, but if today is weird with him, I might be calling and cancelling." 

"Okay!" she squealed out, feeling as if this was her win no matter what, "Just keep an open mind today, and have fun!" 

"I'm sure I will," (Y/N) laughed, "Love you." 

"Love you, too! Bye!" 

With that, the call went dead leaving (Y/N)'s previous scroll through instagram lighting up her screen. Locking her phone, she took a breath to take a sip of her purple smoothie, hoping the addition of matcha and cherry juice this time would tap into some of her stress points and calm her. 

She kept up with her chosen routine for the morning, rifling through the remains of her pile of mail. Under a few more loose pieces of mail and catalogues was a navy blue envelope, stamped with silver starts and sparkling script spelling out her name. A faux wax seal laid the flap shut but gave away easily under a slight pick against the edge. Inside was an invitation to the annual 132 Gala—a benefit for the art gallery of the same name—she'd attended for the last couple of years, the dress code detailed out along with an RSVP request. Honestly, as much as she and her stylist had been anticipating the event, she almost forgot about it in the midst of all the variables entering her life. She was going to have to touch base with Dom to ensure he still had an idea in mind for her gown before she made any commitment. 

With the invitation being stowed away for later, a few more pieces of mail were thrown in the trash until she reached the final slip in the stack. She sighed when she spotted the familiar computerized script on the front. It was crumpled and creamy as opposed to a clean white. She was sure that if she had picked it up earlier in the week it would have still had that distinct woodsy scent as opposed to smelling like the inside of her mailbox. 

(Y/N) didn't need to peel open the flap to know that inside there would be a stack of glossy photos of her along with a typed letter. She knew there would be photos of her this week entering her apartment, going out with Francesca, driving to her father's, and the infamous event with Damien. Some of those photos would no doubt end up in a publication or posted along with a too-long article analyzing her outfit or body language. They always did. 

Without opening the envelope to verify her suspicions, (Y/N) bent to lay this letter with the rest in a drawer filled with junk and things she wanted to ignore. After pushing the drawer closed, she wiped every thought about her "admirer" from her thoughts. They weren't allowed to occupy her brain when there were much more pressing things to worry about. 

Flicking her gaze to the time blinking on her stove, she had to keep from rolling her eyes. While she wasn't much of a morning person, she couldn't believe her dad would allow someone to start a work day—no matter how informal—after nine a.m. With the time blinking well past ten in the morning and the sleep officially having been wiped from her eyes, she was growing unimpressed with the fact she was still waiting. 

Shuttering her eyes, (Y/N) centered herself, leaning back against the lip of the counter. She knew there was no reason to be upset with Harry, it wasn't like she had any say in his schedule nor was this lag truly disrupting anything for her. Her anxiety was beginning to manifest in ways she wasn't proud of and weren't helpful in any way. 

She thought some early morning yoga and a string of meditative poses would help settle her, work out that energy, but obviously none of that had the desired effect. Every time she tried to picture even what this Sunday's outing was going to be like, she wanted nothing more than to hide away and keep from encountering anyone or anything. It would be easier that way, she figured. That way she wouldn't have to explain who Harry was or why she needed any kind of security. 

Francesca was right, though. She knew that. Staying holed up and avoiding the world wouldn't do anything to get her father off her back. If it went on too long, eventually her father would begin picking out events for her to attend, and that was always a much worse outcome than just leaving her house on her own. 

Breathing the way her therapist from her teenage years taught her, (Y/N) centered herself as best she could with her bare feet on the cool tile of her kitchen. The chilled glass with her smoothie was slick against her palm, condensation dripping down the crystal. 

Everything was going to be fine. 

A buzz coming over the intercom knocked (Y/N) out of her head, her eyes flying open with her hand almost letting go of her smoothie. A stunted breath exhaled from her lungs as the moment she'd been waiting for laced together. 

She knew that was Harry waiting to be buzzed up to meet her for the second time. 

Forcing her head to clear, (Y/N) fell easily into her role of bubbly socialite. She had nothing to be afraid of, she told herself, it wasn't as if he was going to find anything her father would be ashamed of. She wasn't even his top priority, she reminded herself, her father and his company were Harry's clients, not (Y/N).

Pressing the small button on the stainless steel panel beside her front door, she dipped close to the microphone. "Good morning, how can I help you?" she asked as if she didn't already know what the answer would be. 

"Good morning, Ms. (Y/N)," answered the doorman from the lobby, the usual quiet settling in the background as he spoke, "I have a Mr. Harry Styles waiting down here for you. He said he's a part of your security team." 

"You can send him up, please," she replied, forcing a chirp to her voice. "Thank you, Claudio!" 

"Of course, Ms. (Y/N)," was all she heard back before the static went dead. Claudio was always a bit cold to her, but he never let any of the lurkers into the lobby so she'd take what she could get. 

The waiting game started again after the brief intermission, leaving (Y/N) in the silence of her apartment. She was suddenly too aware of the silk of her pajamas brushing her skin, the intricate threading on the hem of her shorts too heavy now. 

Lucky enough for her, it wasn't too long before she heard a knock reverberating through the door. It was firm and short, matching the man on the other side. 

A shot went through her system, a moment of static hitting her brain. She'd gone through worse bouts of anxiety and stressful situations, there was no reason to get worked up over something—someone—like this. 

With her mask on, complete with a reserved smile and detached gaze, (Y/N) opened her front door. The hinges glided like butter, welcoming Harry in where he stood in the hallway. 

Dressed in all black as she was starting to figure was his signature, he was waiting with an observant gaze being cast through the corridor. This was one of the few penthouse floors in the building leaving a bare space between where the elevator was stationed before leading to her front door. 

"Good morning," she told him pleasantly, "Come in." 

With a flourish, she stepped to the side with a space cleared for him to step into her apartment. 

"Good morning," he said, a slight smile on his features that appeared for a flash before he was back to his stoic state, "Thank you." 

Harry stepped in, acting as a dark spot with his fitted black t-shirt and trousers of the same shade against the understated hues of her home. (Y/N) locked the door behind him before turning to face him once more, a pleasant smile on her face. 

"How are you?" she asked, her voice even and warm despite how detached she felt. 

"Good, thank you," was his abrupt response, no followup about her own well being for the morning. He cast his gaze around her apartment, taking every corner and curve. She wasn't even sure he had properly looked at her at all since coming here. 

"Good," she said, trailing off awkwardly into the space around them. What kind of small talk do you make with a member of your security team? Especially one that didn't seem too keen on knowing their client. 

Leaning against her front door, she waited as he observed everything. He looked at her couch the same way he had looked at her days prior, as if he was compiling a list of all its attributes and deciding whether it not it had anything of value within. 

It was an odd feeling; she typically wasn't so blatantly compared to furniture to her face, that was usually left to the tabloids and internet trolls. 

Seeming to remember that she was still there, Harry stopped his game of finding everything in the room. He settled his eyes on her, a pointed look with a small pinch to his brows. 

Taking him in for that moment, she was reminded of just how pretty he was. He didn't look like the kind of man that would be guarding the models and gorgeous people, he should be one of the YSL or Gucci models that needed protecting from the crowds of people trying to get a closer look at him. Off-duty model, she figured would be the name of the article that Vogue would write about him, full of street style photos of him. 

With the green of his eyes meeting her own, he didn't waver where he stood. "Jus' go about your day like normal," he instructed her, arms crossed over his chest, "I want to learn your habits and your space first, but if you need to do anything out of the norm, let me know." 

"Okay," she sounded, voice quiet to her own ears. 

As much as she was sure she was meant to completely ignore him, she still felt odd crossing through her place towards her kitchen. She finished her smoothie and had left her blender and other supplies in the sink, so she could at least do the dishes maybe? At least that way her hands would be busy without plucking at her manicure.

Filling the sink with water, she did her best to treat Harry as nothing more than a shadow. To be fair, it wasn't that hard given the fact he barely made any noise as he traipsed around. It brought back memories of the way Barry used to hover around she and Franny when they were teenagers; it was easy to not pay too much attention to the extra body in the room, but her muscles never fully relaxed. 

From the corner of her eye, she saw him poking his head up the stairs to where her bedroom was, casting his gaze towards her ceiling, catching a view out her various windows as he went around. He was a perfect shadow dressed in black, but he seemed a bit too unimpressed for a neutral being. 

Harry stepped into her kitchen, the rubber soles of his shoes silent over the sparkling white granite flooring. "Do you have any kind of security system set up here? Cameras or anything like that?" he probed. 

Humming, (Y/N) picked up the rag she placed out for drying. "The building has some of those alarms installed with the codes and everything and there's the guys downstairs, but I don't have cameras set up in here or anything." 

Perpetually unimpressed, Harry only let out a, "Hm." 

She fixed her eyes onto her pink onyx countertops, tracing the swirling white lines in the faint pink of the stone. Why did he even care, she wanted to ask. What good would cameras in her home do when she was a nuisance outside of these walls? 

Watching as he headed down towards her guest rooms, she felt her tongue moving before her brain allowed it. "What are you looking for?" she poked, her question simple as he kept drying her dishes before placing them in cabinets. 

It wasn't like she was hiding any of the drugs or alcohol her dad surely warned him about, telling him to seek out and destroy before truly starting his job. If that was what he was toeing around her home for, he was going to be disappointed.

He didn't even turn to face her as he called back down the hallway to her, "Nothing in particular. Jus' noting things as I go; vantage points and the complete lack of any useful security around here."

Propping her hip against the lip of the counter, she let out a small sigh. Her hands twirled the rag she had used to dry her dishes, gaze following after her new security detail. 

"You don't have to pretend, you know," she started, saving them both some trouble by starting the conversation, "I know my dad didn't hire you to protect me or anything. He wants you protect the public, and his business from me." 

His ghosting footsteps came to a stop where stood down the hallway. He was in complete control as he turned to face her, that usual placid look molding his features. "Last I checked, you were my client. Not the public or your father's company." 

"But he's the one that's paying you," she countered, unwavering from the point she was trying to make, "I just don't want you to waste your time pretending to find something to protect me from." 

That deadpan look never changed from Harry's face. "'M not pretending, 'm doing my job." He paused only for a moment, his gaze bored and heavy on her skin. "Let me know if y'decide to go anywhere." 

That was the end of the conversation as far as (Y/N) was aware, Harry turning and leaving her as he went about doing whatever it was he considered to be his job. She didn't try to stop him again. If he wanted to waste his time, he could do just that. Not her problem, anymore.

Draining her sink, (Y/N) crept through her apartment to settle upon her plush couch. Clicking her television awake, she fumbled through streaming services until finally tuning into a rerun of a cooking show she was fond of. Though she couldn't quite sink into the cushions or yell to the T.V. as the contestants didn't see the obvious win she did, at least he wasn't right behind her. 

—————

"No, dad, I didn't give him any trouble yesterday." 

(Y/N) could practically hear the eyeball through the phone. "You know he's going to tell me, right? Lying won't change anything." 

It was her turn to give a petulant reaction, lashes fluttering as she almost got her eyes stuck in the back of her head. "I'm being serious. I'm not hiding anything, and I haven't even gone out or anything. There's been nothing to get upset over, dad." 

The trademark sigh of disappointment fluttered through the speaker. "What's the point of having a bodyguard if all you're going to do is stay home, (Y/N)?" 

"I'm going to brunch tomorrow with Fran and the girls," she countered, feeling her blood pressure rise over his argument. She was damned if she went out and was seen, damned if she stayed home and out of the public eye. She couldn't win. 

"Good," her father said, sounding all too pleased as if these plans were his doing, "I want him to see how you act in public, then we'll be able to start working on your problems." 

There was no argument she was going to give after that. She wasn't going to reward him or validate his claim that she is the problem. Because of course she was; it was never the photographers hounding her the second she turned sixteen, never the men around her that treated her like a tabloid bunny there for poking and prodding, and never him who didn't think to be a father for longer than it took for a flash of a camera to capture the moment. 

Dead air settled between them, (Y/N) pressing her phone to her ear with the help of her shoulder as she began to collect ingredients for her dinner. Her way of ignoring him came in redirection, instead focusing back on Harry, his new favorite person. 

"Harry thinks I should get a security system at my apartment," she offered, hoping the mention of his name was enough to get her father's head turning elsewhere. 

The beat that passed after her words showed she garnered the opposite reaction. "Did you tell him about those letters, (Y/N)?" he asked, voice hard as stone. 

Her lips thinned. "No." 

"Good. Don't." It didn't take much for (Y/N) to picture the way he was surely hanging his head over his dinner, perpetually disappointed in his only child. "Do not waste his time over those. Plenty of people take pictures with you, and if I find out you're having him worry about the one person that's actually a fan of you..." he trailed off as if she didn't know exactly what threat was about to leave his mouth, "I'm going to send you to stay with your mother." 

"Right. I won't." 

His worst punishment was always to push her off on others. The nannies she bonded with growing up, different boarding schools and summer programs, anyone that was willing to glance at her for longer than five seconds was in the running to take her off his hands. Her mother was always his favorite to threaten her with as if he knew where she was. 

(Y/N) didn't bother to listen to him anymore when it came to these moments. While she knew he'd never—could never—follow through with this particular threat, it was more than a little disheartening that he'd consider her calling for help as something that deserved a punishment. 

"Well," he started, speaking around his mouthful of whatever his chef had prepared for the night, "if I don't hear from Harry, I'll be calling you to see how tomorrow goes. Don't embarrass yourself, (Y/N). It's not worth it." 

"I know," she answered absently, her voice bored, "Goodnight, dad." 

"Night." 

Pulling her phone from her ear, (Y/N) focused on preparing the zucchini for the pasta primavera she'd been craving. Her thoughts turned methodical now that she had something structured to give her attention to. It was much easier to think when she wasn't firmly planted in her stubbornness and trying to ward off the kind of anxiety she hadn't felt since she was a teenager. 

Harry had gone home late into the afternoon yesterday, and didn't return today. He didn't tell her anything other than he'd see her on Sunday morning for brunch, but she had figured he'd have paid her another visit in the meantime anyway. It was an odd arrangement anyway, as far as she could tell. 

Stretching her memory back, Francesca's security was always there. Even when (Y/N) would spend the night or go away on trips with family, Barry was a constant shadow. The pool house in their backyard was his, an extra room for every rental or new vacation house taken into account so Francesca was never without her bodyguard. While she hadn't really wanted this, she figured Harry would be the same way—his services a button away in case of any kind of moment in need from her. 

He hadn't even taken her number down when he was over. 

It had only been a suspicion before, but perhaps her dad really had been honest with Harry: there was no real danger surrounding (Y/N), just her as the problem that needed fixing before interacting any with the public. There would be no reason for him to watch over her as she slept or be available to any emergency that might appear in his absence. 

Whatever, she figured, sliding the half-moons of her zucchini into a bowl. At least she cleaned out her guest room, something she'd been meaning to do.

(Y/N) was going to take her time alone as if it were gold. She had a feeling tomorrow was going to be rough enough without a bad night's sleep. 

—————

Swimming to the surface of sleep, (Y/N) was half aware of the sound of the static buzzing coming through her apartment. It was far enough away, the buzz panel situated by the door, that she could ignore it easily as she shifted between her sheets with her eyes cinched closed. Brunch wasn't for a few hours anyway, she knew that, and if any of the girls needed her they would have called prior. 

Soon enough the buzzing ceased, allowing her brain to fuzzy further and to retrace her steps back to her dreamland. Whatever that was, wasn't an emergency, then. 

Until the banging knocks started. 

These, she wasn't able to ignore. Forcing her eyes open, she reached for her phone on her night stand. No missed calls or texts filled her notifications, but the time of seven a.m. reflected at her. There was only one person who could be giving her this wakeup call, but there was no reason for him to be here already. 

With no contact to reach out to see if it was Harry waiting for her, she just had to trust that the doormen downstairs wouldn't send anyone up that they didn't recognize or who wasn't on the list to be cleared for her penthouse elevator. 

Her hair was a mess on the top of her head, tangled and falling out of the braid she had twisted for the night, eyes crusted with sleep in the corners, and limbs shaking from the abrupt pull from her sleep. The only clear thought she had was that she was goin to have to give him the access code to her apartment or a key after this; early morning wakeups like this were something she was ever going to be happy about. 

Swinging the door open for him during a pause in his banging, (Y/N) barely looked at Harry before she was trying to usher him in with a sweep of her hand. 

"Morning," she grumbled, voice sticky in her throat. 

"Morning," Harry reciprocated, "Are you ready?" 

"What?" she asked over the click of her lock going back into place. 

"I thought you had plans to go out with your friends this morning." His voice was bored as if he couldn't believe he was having to remind her of her own agenda.

"Yeah, for brunch," she added, "We don't have to leave for a while." 

"Hm," was all he had to offer in response. Unimpressed. 

(Y/N) didn't have it in her to care whether or not he liked brunch or thought she was silly for whatever reason. She was too tired, and her bed was too soft. 

"I'm going back to bed," she told him, edging towards the staircase to her bedroom, "You can do whatever you want." 

A beat passed before Harry offered an acknowledgement in the form of a hum. He was much more interested in investigating more of her home, she figured with the way his eyes traipsed through the space. 

The second her head hit the pillow in her bedroom, (Y/N) happily relaxed into the mattress. 

While there was a part of her that felt odd knowing that there was someone else in her home, settling in while she was elsewhere, there were other parts of her that didn't mind it all that much. She'd never felt lonely before, but she also never had known what it was like to have someone else around like this. 

Even if he was being paid to, it was nice to her soft, sleep-molded brain that he'd care if something happened while she slept.

That thought made it a little bit easier to fall asleep again. 

—————

Standing before her bathroom mirror, (Y/N) sharpened her features and pouted her lips at her reflection. With her hair pinned back and a silky robe draped over her body, she looked every bit the dreamy socialite she pictured herself as in her teens. Except for the wreck that was her makeup so far. 

Breaking her pose, she let out an annoyed grumble as she took a closer look at the section of eyeshadow that just wouldn't blend out. She felt like a toddler having a tantrum the way she wanted to stomp her foot on the ground and throw her makeup brush and eyeshadow palette away. 

Everything had been going perfect until she decided to daringly dip into a slightly deeper shade than she was used to on her eyes, and now she was stuck with a semi-sweet chocolate blob on the outer corner of her eye when she was hoping for a milk chocolate fade. And, she didn't have time to redo anything. 

Life could be so unfair sometimes. 

From down the hallway, she heard footsteps glancing over the flooring towards the bathroom. Moments later, Harry appeared in the mirror behind her, something a little more urgent than she was used to in his gaze but just as serious and uninviting as she remembered from this morning. 

When he didn't say anything, only tracing his eyes over her bathroom, (Y/N) piped up, "Is everything okay?" He hadn't come to see her once since she woke up. 

Catching her gaze in the glass, he said, "I heard you." 

"Sorry," she started, dropping her eyes to her palette of neutral powders, "I'm just annoyed right now. My makeup looks dumb, and I don't have time to redo it." 

Harry relaxed some where he stood, his arms dropping from across his chest as he leant against the doorjamb. The observations never stopped, even as she resumed trying to blend out her makeup. 

"I thought you had people to do that for you," he said, brows furrowing just a pinch. 

(Y/N) shrugged, fluffing a creamy shade over the deep mass in hopes of lightening the whole thing up enough to go out for a morning. "Sometimes; usually for really important things. Otherwise, I just like to do it myself." 

When the makeup cooperated, anyway. What she wouldn't give to have the hand of a makeup artist here to fix her mistake.

"Oh," Harry sounded behind her, silence settling between them. 

Expecting him to leave then, (Y/N) refocused on her eye makeup only for Harry to linger in the doorway. He stood there in his too-pretty glory, watching her as she worked. She felt as if each of her moves were being dissected, analyzed and broken down as if there was a chance he would have to step in. She guessed that technically was his job, though she could argue there might be much better things for him to do rather than watch her blend eyeshadow and bobby pin her hair to perfection. 

Once she had her face applied, extra blush and fluffy lashes added in hopes of distracting from her most disastrous shadow look to date (at least that's how she felt in the moment, but she was sure there were photos off er teen years that would love to beg to differ) and hair styled down to the single strand, she was left with her short robe on and her outfit picked out in her closet. Harry's eyes had documented each of her moves, grazing along her skin and observing every stretch. 

Finding that gaze in the mirror, she looked at him with a mild expression. "I just need to get dressed then we can go." 

Harry blinked at her. "Okay." 

That was all he had to say before she was left to head to her room. 

—————

Stepping through the lobby of her complex, (Y/N) couldn't help but to scope out the street as much as she could through the tinted glass doors of the entrance. Waiting on the curb was the all black SUV she called with pedestrians scattered along the sidewalks and recklessly stepping onto the street. All she was looking for was anyone lingering a little too close to the building with too nice of cameras to be normal. 

She'd always been a little cautious leaving her building once the address to her complex had been leaked, paparazzi having camped out for a week afterwards in hopes of catching her off guard, though now that Harry was going to be stepping out with her another layer was added. She could already imagine the headlines and blog posts that would be made when others caught wind of the fact she was seen with a member of the opposite sex. 

Some of her favorites loved to recount her "relationship timeline" as well as call into question her "body count" and how long this new "beau" will last. She was dreading reading those words again; it was bad enough when she actually liked one of those people in those photos with her, but Harry's new job required his presence around her. He couldn't even leave this narrative if he wanted to. 

Staying focused, (Y/N) gave a wave to the doormen standing behind the front desk though their stony faces didn't sway. Harry was quiet at her side, allowing her to take the lead as she took them out onto the street, a blast of air hitting them once the seal of the doors was pushed open. Outside, no one paid her any mind, her driver being the only person that acknowledged her with a grin on his face. 

"Morning!" she chirped, feeling more relaxed now that he was nearby. 

"Morning, (Y/N)," he greeted, opening the backseat door with a flourish for her. His gaze only shifted for a moment to her companion, but she knew he was much too polite to ask for details about any of her guests. 

Setting one foot inside, (Y/N) hesitated as she looked around the SUV door to Sully. "Sully, this is Harry," she started, tossing her hand in Harry's direction, "He's my new bodyguard"—her tongue felt odd around the word—"Harry, this is Sully. He's my primary driver." 

Sully gave her a momentary look the second he heard the word bodyguard. Out of most people in her life, he knew her almost better than Francesca, so he knew just as well as she did that a security detail wasn't something (Y/N) was in need of. Nonetheless, he kept his polite smile on his face when addressing Harry. 

"Nice to meet you, Harry," he said, offering a gentle hand out to shake. 

"Nice to meet you," Harry said with a gruff anchor to his voice. 

That was all that was shared before (Y/N) stepped into the car, Harry following behind her. Though she was sure Sully felt the same way she did about the situation, he didn't let any of it show when he took his spot in the driver's seat, his eyes meeting hers through the rearview mirror. 

"The new place still, (Y/N)?"

"Yes, please," she answered, a soft smile on her face. 

As they started the drive through the city, skyscrapers towering on either side of the street and too many people on the sidewalks, (Y/N) pulled out her phone. Though she was aware of Harry's presence on the bench seat beside her only inches away, she ignored him in favor of pulling up Francesca's text thread in her messages. 

Fran🫧

      are u bringing your bodyguard????? 

      jk ofc you are he has to come w u everywhere lol is he still cute today tho or was the other day just bc you saw him for the first time???? 

As much as she loved Franny like a sister, she didn't really want to talk about Harry at the moment. She knew much of brunch was going to be spent talking about her new security or talking around him as all of the girls were going to be varying levels of nosy about it all. (Y/N) didn't have a lot of interest in starting that trend any earlier than needed. 

Instead, she began scrolling through her Instagram explore page full of photos of nail art and cooking videos she planned on looking up the recipes for later. Ever-polite, Sully was the one to break the silence that filled the cab of his vehicle. 

"How long will you be joining us, Harry?" he asked, kind blue eyes shining in the rearview mirror. 

Uninterested as ever, Harry didn't break his gaze from where he was observing through the window. "As long as it takes for her father to be convinced that she's finally grown up." 

It was a callous remark, but one (Y/N) had heard before just in a different voice. It was an interesting thing to hear those biting words lack the familiarity of her father's tone. She'd never heard them like that before. 

Flicking her gaze up from her phone, she spotted Sully in the mirror through the fan of her lashes. He gave her one of those soft smiles he'd also seen him give his daughter before. It made it a bit easier to let that remark slide off her back when she knew he was on her side. 

"Won't be very long then," Sully continued, tipping his chin up in confidence, "It doesn't take very long to see how kind and responsible Ms. (Y/N) is, despite what all those silly magazines like to say." 

(Y/N) directed a quiet smile down at her phone. She hoped Sully knew just how much she appreciated him. 

—————

"I'll be back around noon, okay?" Sully said, offering a helping hand to (Y/N) as she stepped out of the SUV and onto the grey concrete sidewalk, "Let me know if you need me sooner or want to stay longer." 

Nodding her head, she gave him a bubbly smile with soft lips and warm cheeks. "Thank you." 

"It's my pleasure," he answered, squeezing her hand in his as she steadied herself on the concrete.

With Harry at her side, Sully was sent off with a wave from her manicured fingers. 

Though it wasn't new to feel eyes on her at time when she was out, it was different to have someone following along with her. His job was to watch her, and he made it known with the way she could feel his gaze stitched to her. He only drifted when he made a point to take in their surroundings. 

Was he even supposed to sit with them? Was he going to eat beside her? What was his job when it came to events like this? 

(Y/N) tried to think back to what Francesca's bodyguard would do, but she couldn't remember him ever joining them for a meal in public. Barry was typically meant to watch over Fran when no one else was around, leaving those group settings without him. Was Harry to do the same? Was he going to sit elsewhere or guard their table like a circling vulture? 

Her head hurt just thinking about it. Harry would do whatever he decided to do, she settled on. This wasn't his first security job, so hopefully he would do whatever he was used to with Camila and Monroe. 

Harry pushed the entrance door open for her, taking her by surprise as she stepped into the trendiest brunch spot in the city at the moment. Everything was sleek and warm, glass with golden hinges, wood pieces with uniform swirls and knots. Inauthentic authenticity. Falling into character, a bright smile landed on (Y/N)'s lips, her phone clutched in one hand with her purse hanging from the crook of her elbow. The clack of her heels was drowned out by the sound of chattering patrons and a busy kitchen. 

"Hello, how are you?" The young man stationed at the host stand greeted her, a dark denim uniform adorning his form. (Y/N) almost cringed for him; she couldn't imagine how hot it must be to work all day in a heavy outfit like that. 

"Hi, I'm good thank you," she greeted, feeling Harry just behind her as if he were breathing down her neck. How would he analyze this conversation? "I'm here to meet a few friends—there should be a reservation under—" 

Cutting her off, the boy piped up with, "Francesca, right? She and a few others just got here." 

Now that she wasn't so distracted by his outfit, she could see recognition in his gaze. He knew who she was and was definitely peeking over her shoulder to see who her companion was. 

"That's them," (Y/N) chirped, canting her head as the boy tapped away at the computer in front of him. 

"Perfect," he beamed, glancing up nonchalantly at them, "And will he be taking the sixth seat at the table?" 

A clear attempt to fish, but not one (Y/N) was going to be able to ignore. "Yes, please." 

The way the boy's eyes brightened had (Y/N) already dreading the articles that she would be tagged in across every social media platform, the headlines teasing about her new "mystery man" with all of the sources being an anonymous instagram account known for spreading gossip. Because that's journalism. 

"Follow me," he said, waving his hand as he stepped out from behind the podium.

Harry was a ghost behind her as (Y/N) made small talk with the host, answering with polite chatter about the weather while being led through the restaurant. Through the crowded tables, Francesca and the three other girls they frequently went out with came into view. Glasses of bubbling mimosas and an appetizer of cheese and crackers adorned the table, matching that of the rest of the patrons indulging in the brunch rush. 

Francesca was the first to spot them once the host dropped them off with a quiet wish for she and Harry to enjoy their food before he was off again. Fran's eyes lit up when she saw her, only for them to widen that much more when Harry came into view behind her. 

"(Y/N)," she cheered, gaining the attention of the other girls who broke their absent chatter to turn to face them. Fran no doubt had told them that (Y/N) would be bringing a guest. 

"Hi," she smiled, maneuvering around the table to the two empty seats between Emma and Rita, "Sorry I'm late. My makeup was not doing its job this morning." 

Emma piped up then, "No worries, honey! We're just happy you could make it. We already ordered a mimosa for you and some appetizers and all." 

Despite the girls seemingly talking to her, their eyes continuously drifted to her companion that ghosted behind her. Pulling out her chair, (Y/N) dropped her purse on the table before looking across from her to where Francesca was sat. Even she was pretending as if she wasn't bubbling in anticipation over Harry. 

"Thanks, guys," she said, taking her seat with Harry doing the same beside her, "Everyone, this is Harry. I bet Fran already told you a little bit, but he's going to be my personal security for the next few months or so. We're still trying to figure out how this all works for it, so thanks for letting him tag along today." 

"Of course," Kita giggled, leaning with her elbow on the table, "Fran did tell us that you were bringing someone special today." 

"Right," (Y/N) laughed, feeling slightly exposed despite the fact none of the girls were even looking at her. "I promised him we'd be on our best behavior today, so don't ruin this for me." 

The laughter that bubbled around the table was just a touch too melodious, too airy and light. Francesca even made eyes at (Y/N); she approved of him, that much was obvious. 

"I'm sure we'll still have fun with him," Toriana said, her spot right across from Harry making it easy for her to reach across and offer her hand up in greeting, "I'm Toriana, but the girls just call me Ana." 

"Nice to meet you," Harry answered, taking her hand into his in that same firm grip (Y/N) remembered. 

A domino effect started then, each of the girls taking the time to personally introduce themselves. Toriana and Kita were more than a little interested in him, asking questions right off the bat that (Y/N) wished they would keep to themselves. Franny and Emma seemed to prefer to watch, piping in at moments with their own bubbly comments or peals of laughter. Harry, reserved as ever, barely interacted. 

(Y/N) didn't know why she liked that as much as she did. Maybe it was just nice knowing she wasn't the only person he was cold with. Even if he did still end up talking to the girls more than he had all weekend with her. 

Soon enough—long enough still that (Y/N) sipped through a glass and a half of water, the cheese plate had dissipated to crumbs, and breakfast orders had been placed—the shine of Harry had finally been lost on the girls. The shorter his answers became the clearer the message that he wasn't interested in sharing became. Though Kita didn't pull too far away from him and Fran had eyes on him every few moments, there wasn't much fun in talking to a wall. 

The gossip shifted around the table, new topics being introduced as wait staff appeared to refill drained mimosa glasses. (Y/N) was seventy percent sure she saw one of the denim-clad employees pull her phone out and snap a shot of the table while clearing their small appetizer plates. No one seemed to notice the girl other than she and Harry, his eyes narrowing when he caught sight of the camera tilted in their direction. She wouldn't be surprised if the photo captured Harry's harsh gaze. 

Ignoring the snooping employee, (Y/N) tried to tune into the story Emma was sharing that had the rest of the table enraptured. As funny and kind as Emma was, she loved to gossip; she loved knowing things, even if the information had nothing to do with her. More often than not (Y/N) preferred to check out of her particularly scandalous stories, just because she knew what it was like to be the name coming off of other's lips in a spit. Francesca was the same, preferring to stay out of it all.

But, this story caught both of their attention for all the wrong reasons. 

"Then, I heard that Christal's parents are separating, because her dad also cheated with one of Christal's friends that got an internship at his company," Emma chattered, dipping her chin as if she was actually trying to keep this information a secret for only the table to hear. 

Toriana gasped, her hand coming up to cover her mouth with wide eyes. Leaning over the table, she conspired with Emma in a hushed tone that was far from being any level of quiet, "I heard they were separating because her mom was paying off her doctor to write prescriptions for, like, everything. Her dad is so over it, so he's supposed to be filing officially next week." 

The mention of prescriptions and doctors who didn't care to help anymore stung at (Y/N) behind her walls. It was bad enough speaking about Christal and her family dynamics when they barely knew her outside of nights partying in the Upper West Side, but those kinds of rumors weren't something (Y/N) could ever imagine repeating. Drug use and the breaking up of a marriage—no matter the reason—were things none of them should be discussing when they had no idea what was truly going on. 

It made (Y/N) think of her own parents and the years of swirling tabloids trying to figure out just how long her parents were on the rocks and what exactly had gone wrong. It was more than invasive. 

(Y/N)'s nails quietly tapped on the table as the attention was placed on her, her voice piping up once Emma finally paused for a breath, "We probably shouldn't be talking about this stuff, guys." 

Emma was the first to turn to her with a slighted look on her face, surprised to have anyone stopping her in the middle of her speculations. The remaining pairs of eyes turned to her, Francesca the only one that seemed to match her protesting while Kita and Toriana were just as taken aback as Emma. 

Saved by the bell, their waitress chose then to appear with trays of their food in her arms. Bowls of salads and plates of eggs were distributed amongst the girls, Harry's order being of avocado toast though she couldn't imagine him picking off more than a couple of bites with the way he was so focused on the scene around him. The women had settled while they were being waited on, beaming smiles and assurances that everything was perfect, they would love a refill, and whatever chattering small talk was started by the waitress in the meantime. 

It wasn't until everything had been cleared away, a plate of eggs Benedict with a kale apple salad off to the side in front of (Y/N), that Emma turned to face her once more. 

Now she was less shocked and more bewildered that (Y/N) had tried to end her conversation. "Don't you want to know what happened though, (Y/N)?" she asked, incredulous, "Her parents always seemed so obsessed with each other, doesn't that make you want to know even more?" 

"Sure," (Y/N) started, "But, it's a little too personal, don't you think? Especially if any of this is true, it's all probably really hard on Christal. I don't think it's fair to talk about it when we don't know anything about it, and she's not even here." 

That expression of furrowed brows and parted lips didn't leave Emma's face as (Y/N) spoke. "I mean I guess, but—" 

Before she could get much further, (Y/N) couldn't help but to step in. "Honestly, I'd rather hear about you and your fashion designer," (Y/N) started, leaning towards Emma with a conspiratorial smile on her face, "You haven't brought him up at all, even though you've posted him on your story at least five times now." 

Watching her friends' features light up told her just how effective her new topic was. There was nothing—not even hot gossip—Emma loved talking about more than herself. 

"You mean Stavros? What could you ever want to know about him?" Emma bubbled, acting coy with a lift of her shoulder and flutter of her lashes. 

"Stavros?! You never told me that was his name!" Kita chimed in, filling in where (Y/N) had left off. 

All it took was Emma starting with a Well... to get the table submitting again to conversation full of bubbling giggles and blushing cheeks, teases of Stavros's name and Emma's story telling about their time together so far. Even Francesca, after shooting (Y/N) a small smile, became invested in the chronicle of Emma's love life. 

Falling into silence, satisfied at the reroute of the conversation, (Y/N) finally tried the food in front of her. From the corner of her eye, she saw Harry observing her with calculating eyes, a pinch in his brow.

Suddenly, she felt more exposed than when dozens of cameras were posed in her direction. Was she not supposed to interfere like that? Was this new topic somehow equal to the one Emma had initially embarked on? 

Honestly, (Y/N) had almost forgotten about Harry's presence when she stepped in and redirected Emma into safer territory, but now she was wondering if she would have benefited more from keeping her mouth shut. Who knew what he would report back to her father with; how he would spin these events.

"(Y/N), don't you know his cousin? That Ferrill girl we met in Milan?" Francesca's voice chirping out her name had (Y/N) dropping back into the conversation, grateful for a distraction from what she was overthinking in her mind. 

"Oh, yeah, Ferrill! She's Stavros's cousin?..." 

—————

"You really have to go home?" 

Kita's over-pouted lips and pleading pulled a laugh out of (Y/N) as she pulled her into a hug. 

"I know, I'm sorry," she started, reciprocating her friend's hold, "You know I'd love to go with you guys if I could, but I already promised I'd call my stylist later today."

"I know," Kita whined, pulling away with her hug still around (Y/N)'s middle, "I just feel like you barely talked this morning, and I miss you."

 Despite being around them and having spent the better part of two hours with these girls, (Y/N) missed them too. Kita wasn't wrong in that she barely talked for the morning, Harry being a constant, extra fine sifter that filtered her thoughts before she even had them ready to go. It was hard to talk as freely when she knew he was analyzing every single syllable on her lips. 

"I'm sorry," (Y/N) pouted, playing along, "But, I'm sure I'll see you again soon. And, if you want, you can FaceTime me later so I can see what you got." 

Kita seemed satisfied with that answer, pulling (Y/N) in for another hug before joining the rest of the women who were beckoning to join them as they started down the sidewalk. Hugs and goodbyes had already been shared amongst the rest of them, Francesca promising to text her before she even had a chance to make it home. 

With a final wave from the three of them and calls of "Bye, Harry!", (Y/N) was left by Sully's car with an extra shadow. 

The truth was, she couldn't imagine trekking down Fifth Ave with Harry following behind her. It was uncomfortable enough to have him sit and eat with her, even more so thinking about him watching as she chattered with her friends and tried on different pieces of clothing. 

"Ready to head home?" Sully asked, hand poised on the handle of the back passenger seat for her. 

"Yes, please," she sighed, eagerly stepping in when he pulled open the door for her.

Following behind her, Harry settled in beside her in the back seat, the faux-leather soft under their weight. Sully smoothly integrated himself within the New York traffic, maneuvering around in ways that made (Y/N) that much more grateful that she wasn't the one in charge. 

Decompressing, her eyes fluttered closed with her shoulders untensing. It wasn't until now that she realized just how tightly she had been wound during the meal. No wonder she could feel the beginning band of an ache forming in her head. 

Breaking the static silence in the cab, Harry asked, "Is it always like that?" 

"Like what?" (Y/N) pressed, brows knitting together in the middle though her eyelids didn't flutter. 

She could hear the sound of him shifting against the leather. "Like, everything going on at once?" 

"A little," (Y/N) admitted, the words leaving on a breathing laugh, "This was on the tamer side. Usually, Toriana will try to debate everyone into agreeing to get a mimosa tower for the table—that's when things start happening all at once." 

A beat passed, (Y/N) assuming he was fine with the stopping point of the conversation until he spoke again. 

"Y'didn't drink today." 

Though it was less of a question and more of a statement, she still answered with, "No." 

"Why not?" 

Shrugging, her clothing shuffled against the faux-leather. "I don't really like drinking this early—it makes me too tired, so I don't usually do it." 

Despite the fact she didn't hear his voice again, (Y/N) could feel Harry's eyes on her through the remaining drive to her apartment.

—————

Laid flat on her back on her bed, (Y/N) raised her hand to look at the time on her phone once more. The closer the clock numbers to ten a.m., the more she wanted to curl up in her sheets. 

Dressed in her pastel pink workout set with her hair braided back and tennis shoes on her feet, (Y/N) was more than ready to head to her pilates class. She wanted to luxuriate in her poses and breathing, get a smoothie afterwards as her cooldown, and live her normal routine. The only problem was Harry. 

Though she loathed to admit it, she knew he was supposed to accompany her. Even if he wasn't policing her at home, she knew there were no exceptions to the rule of him going with her throughout her day should she chose to go out and about. That was the whole point of his job. 

She wanted to do as Francesca had told her—that she still needed to live her life even if it was with an extra shadow—, but, even with the fact that the Sunday brunch had gone well enough, taking Harry to her pilates class was completely different. She lacked friends in her class anyway, and this wouldn't make it any better. Most of the women already judged her enough, adding Harry into the mix wasn't going to help her case in not looking as pretentious and spoiled like they thought. 

Maybe, she could get away with only sending him a text? It wasn't as if she were going to an event or a high-profile dinner. Maybe her dad wouldn't care, leaving Harry to not care either. There wasn't much trouble she could get into while controlling her breathing and wiping sweat off the back of her neck, anyway. 

Looking at the time once more, she saw the minutes click that much closer to the start time for her usual session. Her chest rose as she pulled in a deep breath. 

If she wanted to get there on time and get a good spot, she was going to have to text Harry and move on. Sully was on the way anyway, she had to make her choice now before she had to cancel the car and instead curl up in bed just like she had been for three days since brunch. 

The sound of (Y/N)'s nails tapping at her phone screen filled her room as she made to sit up amongst the folds in her duvet.

     morning, harry! just wanted to let you know that im headed to my pilates class right now. it should end around 11 and i'll probably grab a smoothie after, so i'll be on my way back to my apartment after that. lmk if you need anything like to get into my apartment or anything like that before im home ! 

As soon as she pressed send with the blue bubble inflating against the dark background, she locked her phone. She couldn't overthink this whole thing anymore. She had plans she needed to stick to if she wanted to stay normal. 

The notification that Sully was downstairs waiting for her couldn't have come soon enough, not when she finished packing her things much too quickly. 

"No Harry?" Sully asked once she was secure in the back seat, the morning sun shining on the grimy streets of the city. 

Avoiding his gaze in the rearview mirror, (Y/N) shook her head. "Not today." 

—————

Buzz-buzz.

(Y/N) cinched her eyes closed tighter at the sound of a phone vibrating deep in someone's bag. her breathing came in even waves, chest rising and falling in even measures. 

Buzz-buzz.

One of the other students faltered on their breathing, the teacher pausing just a second too long in-between instructions as everyone heard the incessant noise.

"Now, take a breath and stretch into your high plank," the morning's instructor directed, voice calm in the middle of the studio, "Keep the height to your comfort, no reason to strain past a slight burn." 

Taking in a deep breath, (Y/N) listened with her hands planted solidly on the mat under her. Her back stretched slowly, legs keeping her steady as she fell back into the rhythm of the session.

Until another round of buzzing started, this string clearly from a phone call that was going to be ignored. 

The strength in her core faltered with her eyes cinched to a tight close at the sound.

(Y/N) knew good and well that it was her phone that was going crazy at the bottom of her bag, but there was no way she was going to make that obvious to anyone else in the class. She was sure a good chunk of them already assumed it was her anyway, but that didn't mean she had to admit to it. 

Instead, she kept up with the poses and the directions given, ignoring the device as best as she could. She was going to enjoy this class as much as she could before she would be forced to renter her reality.

She already knew what kind of notifications were waiting for her, anyway. Either Francesca and the girls randomly decided to start up another group chat, or Harry wasn't pleased with her decision to head out for the day with nothing more than a text sent his way. Either way, (Y/N) didn't want to deal with either of those things at the moment. 

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but would the owner of the phone that keeps going off, please, either silence or turn off your phone for the remainder of the class? I'm sure the class would appreciate the chance to keep their focus without any more interruptions." 

Despite her tone of voice being respectful and calm as ever, (Y/N) knew the instructor was pissed. No matter how well-paying her clients were, there was no way she could keep standing for disruptions like this. Blinking her eyes open, she saw the rest of the class on the same level as their instructor: just as annoyed but feigning calmness as if the last half hour hadn't been spent ignoring phone call after phone call with text messages in between. 

She couldn't get up now, (Y/N) thought. Not when everyone was waiting to see who the culprit was so they could shoot daggers with their gaze. She could only imagine what the post-class powwow of complaints would sound like. 

(Y/N) cringed when her phone went off once more, the device rattling against a tube of lipgloss to make it that much lounger. 

Fuck. This was worse than waking up and seeing drunken photos of her posted. At least then she didn't have a dozen other people staring at her in the process. 

When her phone went off once more in what she hoped was a reminder notification and not another set of messages coming through, (Y/N) couldn't take it anymore. She had to fix this if she wanted to at least be welcomed back. 

Just as she went to break her pose, a clatter could be heard on the other side of the door. Muffled voices broke through the curated tranquility of the studio, sounding more and more aggravated as they drew closer to the room she was in. The doorknob twisted, resistance found on the other side when a clear "Sir!" was called through. 

A beat later, that resistance was broken, Harry barreling through the door. With a furrow pinching his brow and a blaze in his eyes, he looked just as bitter and grumpy as a stereotypical bouncer and not the seasoned security detail he was. His usual uniform of all black was crumpled and creased with his hair a mess on the top of his head. 

"Sir, there is a class in session!" A voice (Y/N) recognized from the front desk of the studio burst in behind him. Harry didn't flinch back for even a second. 

The second his gaze landed on her, his jaw hardened. "(Y/N)," he gritted out her name, "Come here, now." 

Having crumbled from her pose to sit with her legs folded underneath her, (Y/N) felt stuck where she sat. She could practically spot steam coming from the top of Harry's head. Her skin heated when she felt others' eyes land on her. 

This was definitely much, much worse than if she had just answered her phone. 

"Harry," she started, unsure of what exactly she was going to say but feeling as if she needed to say something anyway. 

His nose flared. "Sully is waiting outside. Let's go." 

There was a finality in her tone that had her scrambling to collect her things as soon as possible. The room was silent as she messily rolled her mat and clumsily stepped into her shoes. 

A mumbled thank you was offered to the silent instructor as she passed, a matching apology being told to the class though she was sure both sentiments fell on deaf ears. (Y/N) was definitely going to have to switch studios again. 

She wasn't surprised to see the rest of the studio having fallen in line, patrons and classes quiet and paused after the ruckus caused on her behalf. (Y/N) could only imagine the photos others snapped of her following after Harry like a puppy with her tail between her legs. She already knew what this was going to look like—the loud scene as well as following after Harry the way she was. 

Sully didn't say anything when (Y/N) quickly slipped into the backseat, Harry coming after with a loud slam of the door behind. 

The interior was almost humid with the way Harry fumed beside her, his arms a tight cross over his chest and his jaw anchored closed. From the corner of her eye, she could see the way his fingers were curled into fists under the shelter of his arms. 

(Y/N) felt silly to be sitting there with her cardigan and leggings, hands in her lap like a reprimanded child. 

The silence stretched on as Sully pulled away from the curb, routing directly back to her apartment without question. 

It wasn't until there was a stop in the traffic that any of them dared to speak a single word. Of course, it was Harry.

"I don't know what you were thinking this morning," he started, voice deceptively calm, "But, you almost cost me my job with that stunt." 

Staying quiet, she didn't know what to say. Honestly, she hadn't really thought about it like that when she left without him this morning. She had only been considering the pit in her stomach and how much she hadn't wanted to disrupt her own life. She acted just as selfish as she was sure Harry thought her to be at her core. 

From the corner of her eye, she could see the way Harry's gaze on her profile sharpened. She kept her eyes on her hands. 

"I thought we had a good understanding after this weekend, but I think I need to make a few things especially clear for you," he started, (Y/N) finally chancing a look at him. Harry's gaze steeled when she matched him. "When I was given this job, I was told to go with you everywhere, and 'm sure you were told the same thing. I don't care if you think your fathers's company, or the 'public' or whoever you think is my client, because that is not the truth. You are my client, and if you make trouble like this again, I will lose my job. Because of you." 

(Y/N) had never been reprimanded like this before, not as fat as she could remember. Her father's scoldings had never been this effective, even when she was young enough to still care what he had to say. 

Her throat was dry as she piped up, hoping to explain herself, "It was just my pilates class. I didn't think it would be a big deal." 

That seemed to be the very worst thing she could have said with the way Harry's shoulders tensed with hot air with his jaw quirked. His eye contact was unwavering as he glared at her. 

"I knew I was going to have to babysit you, but I didn't think it would be this much of a problem. Going forward, I do not care where you are going, I am going with you. I know you don't want me here, so the quicker you follow this and get over whatever princess complex you have after getting everything handed to you, the quicker we'll both be free of this contract. Please keep that in mind the next time you decide to go off with just a text." 

Harry's tone was harsh and grating, flaming hot underneath the calm facade he was just well-versed with as her own bubbly princess role. He could rival her father in just how much disdain he held for her. 

She couldn't blame his perception of her, really. With the way both her father and the media spoke of her, she could only imagine the kind of person she looked to be in his eyes. 

Nonetheless, (Y/N) could still feel that sting of hurt. 

But, he was right. Now, she knew where they stood. Now, she could try harder to get over her princess complex and show her father she didn't need a ghost and everything could go back to normal. 

If she tried hard enough, she could hopefully still make it to spend the winter in Francesca's family's Swiss cabin free of an extra shadow. That was a goal she could work towards this summer. 

"I understand," she told him, checking out of the conversation now that she had her own plan working in the background, her own terms to follow, "I'm sorry I put you in that position. I didn't mean anything by it, I just didn't think it was the kind of thing to bother you over." 

Deflating some, Harry blinked, his gaze falling down her features. "Okay," he settled, golden flecks swimming in his irises, "Now, we're both on the same page." 

(Y/N) quietly agreed with a small nod. 

The rest of the car ride was silent.

—————

Without a second thought, (Y/N) stowed the newest heavy, photo-laden envelope into her drawer of the others. She already knew what kind of pictures would be inside and the kind of story her admirer had spun in her honor. It would be the same photos that had been distributed by the same anonymous Instagram blog that always posted them along with the same story that all the tabloids picked up the next day. 

According to the internet as well as a few gullible publications, (Y/N) had shown up drunk to her class and Harry had come to collect her. Harry was also no longer her mystery man, and now her affair partner that she had cheated on Damien Moore with. Damien was also reportedly very hurt to be seeing her with Harry after everything that had gone down. Broken-hearted by the ice queen, one publication had been so bold to claim. Blurry photos accompanied the articles and tweets, with her looking to Harry with watery eyes ("alcohol-glazed") like a reprimanded child as she followed him out. 

Her admirer had no doubt clung to the claims that she was in a romantic relationship, their own version of events meandering around it all to erase the legitimacy of the claims along with photos of her back at her apartment without him to solidify their theory. While they would be right this time, that she and Harry were not linked in any way but professional, it still didn't make her feel very safe knowing they had gone to the length they did to verify as much as well as send a letter to prove it all. 

It'd been days since the incident and one day since the news hit the circuits, and (Y/N) was more than comfortable hiding out at her apartment to ensure she wouldn't have to deal with anyone, including Harry, until her nail appointment on Thursday. The whole thing was more than stupid, full of baseless claims and low-quality photos. It didn't deserve her attention. 

The only thing that had truly caught her off guard, was the lack of phone calls from her father. A full day had passed with the story being tweeted and mocked, and yet there was no scathing text message or berating call sent to her phone. This was just the type of story that would have him up in arms and fuming all throughout the mansion. The longer it didn't come, the more she felt on edge. 

Her father was built on being predictable, so when he deviated from the norm she couldn't help but to fear the worst. 

Ignoring it all for the time being, (Y/N) returned to her kitchen eager to take her mind off things in the form of trying out one of her stored up recipes. 

While she didn't usually have the chance to share it with others, cooking was one of (Y/N)'s favorite pastimes—a therapeutic hobby. She liked putting flavors together and the technique that went into making everything just the way she liked it. There was structure to it all—even the bendable rules gave her guidelines. 

Especially when she was attending her private school and spending her time in dorms and weekends alone at her parents' home, food was the one thing she could control that gave her a routine. She liked making cute meals and lunches for her friends at school and taking advantage of the illustrious pantry and fridge she had at home. It was easy to nurture her love for it when there was no other outlet open for her feelings. 

While there was nothing special she could imagine herself doing with her passion like she was sure that her father would have wanted, it didn't cheapen the love for her at all. It was the easiest way to fill herself with love even when she felt as if everything around her was hateful. 

Turning her phone to silent, (Y/N) happily turned on a rerun of her favorite cooking competition show, and started on her own meal. 

—————

élan is a French word that describes the sense of a movement coming; the grace with which time moves towards the next chapter

Harry Styles recently parted ways with his bandmates and is embarking on a whole new adventure - his debut solo album. Uncertainty keeps his heart guarded as he cautiously opens up to the world on his own.

Francesca 'Franki' Leto is hopelessly devoted to her career and goes wherever her rollercoaster of a life takes her. Far too busy for anything other than the fashion line she runs with her sister, she never could've seen him coming.

But when the universe keeps throwing them in each other's paths, how long will it take to realize some things are too strange and strong to be coincidences. Call it what you want. Kismet. Fate. Dumb luck. Somehow their lives continue to collide.

•••

I. The Flight

II. The Wedding, Part One

III. The Wedding, Part Two

IV. The Show, Part One

V. The Show, Part Two

VI. The Met Gala

VII. The Mark

VIII. The Gucci Cruise

IX. The Fleetwood Mac Concert

X. The Fine Line Era, Part One

XI. The Fine Line Era, Part Two

EXTRA: The Christmas Gift

XII. The Epilogue

EXTRA: Wedding Plans

EXTRA: Meeting Baby Jonesland

EXTRA: 2022 update

EXTRA: 2023 Wembley Night One

•••

Talk to me about Collide! // Story tag

Divide: A Collide AU Story Page

•••