#( complex )

I typed back, trying to keep it light. “Hey, Yel! I’m good. Busy with work. How about you?”

Her reply came almost instantly. “Not great, honestly. Can we meet up? I need to talk.”

I stared at the screen, my mind racing. What could’ve happened? The last I’d heard, she was still with that guy—the one who’d taken her away from me. But something in her tone felt off, like she was holding back tears even through text.

“Sure,” I replied. “Where and when?”

We met at a quiet café tucked away from the bustling city streets. I arrived first, nerves twisting in my stomach. When she walked in, my breath caught.

Yel looked… different. The usual spark in her eyes was dimmed, replaced by a hollow sadness. She spotted me and forced a small smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She slid into the seat across from me, her hands fidgeting with the edge of her sweater.

“Hey,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Hey,” I replied, trying to keep my tone neutral. “It’s been a while.”

She nodded, her gaze dropping to the table. “Yeah… I’m sorry I haven’t reached out sooner. Things have been… complicated.”

I leaned back in my chair, studying her. “What’s going on, Yel?”

She took a deep breath, her hands trembling slightly. “You’ve probably heard about… the pictures.”

I froze. The pictures. The ones that had been leaked online, spreading like wildfire. I’d seen them, of course—how could I not? But I’d avoided thinking about them, avoided thinking about her.

“I did,” I admitted, my voice gentle. “I’m sorry, Yel.”

Her eyes welled with tears, and she quickly wiped them away with the back of her hand. “It’s been… awful. Everyone turned on me. My friends, my classmates… even him.”

Her voice broke on the last word, and I felt a pang of anger. Her boyfriend. The guy who’d been supposed to protect her, to stand by her side. Instead, he’d thrown her to the wolves.

“He’s an asshole,” I said firmly. “You didn’t deserve any of this.”

She looked up at me, her eyes searching mine. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” I replied without hesitation.

For a moment, she just stared at me, as if she couldn’t believe someone was actually on her side. Then, to my surprise, she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around me in a tight hug.

I froze, unsure of how to react. Her body was warm against mine, her chest pressing into me with a softness that made my heart race. Yel. The girl I’d had a crush on for as long as I could remember. The girl I’d thought I’d lost forever.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I’ve been so alone… but you’re here.”

I hesitated for a moment before wrapping my arms around her, holding her close. “I’m here,” I said softly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She pulled back slightly, her eyes glistening with tears. “Promise?”

“Promise,” I said, my voice steady.

She smiled—a real, genuine smile this time—and iIt felt like the sun breaking through the clouds. But beneath the warmth, there was something else—a tension, a pull between us that I couldn’t ignore.

“I missed you,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “You were always so kind to me, even when I didn’t deserve it.”

“You always deserved it,” I said, my voice firm.

Her gaze softened, and for a moment, it felt like we were kids again—inseparable, carefree. But then she pulled back, breaking the moment, and I felt a pang of disappointment.

“We should hang out more,” she said, her tone lighter now. “Like we used to.”

“I’d like that,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.

She smiled again, and this time, there was a glint of something in her eyes—something that made my heart race.

“Good,” she said, her voice teasing. “Because I’m not letting you go again.”

I felt a flush creep up my neck, and I quickly looked away, trying to hide my reaction.

“So,” she continued, her tone playful now, “what have you been up to since I’ve been gone?”

I hesitated, unsure of how much to share. But then I looked at her—the girl who’d always been my biggest weakness—and I knew I couldn’t lie.

“Not much,” I admitted. “Just… waiting for you to come back.”

Her smile faltered for a moment, and I thought I saw a flicker of guilt in her eyes. But then it was gone, replaced by that teasing glint.

“Well, I’m here now,” she said, her voice soft. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

We lapsed into silence, the tension between us thickening with each passing second. But before I could say anything, she stood up, her movements graceful.

“I should go,” she said, her tone regretful. “But… we’ll talk soon?”

“Definitely,” I replied, standing as well.

She hesitated for a moment before stepping closer, her body inches from mine. I could feel the warmth radiating off her, could smell the faint scent of her perfume. It was intoxicating.

“Thank you,” she said softly, her eyes meeting mine. “For everything.”

And then, before I could react, she leaned in and pressed a kiss to my cheek. It was quick, almost chaste, but it sent a jolt of electricity through me.

She pulled back, her cheeks flushed, and I saw something in her eyes—something that made my heart race.

“See you soon,” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

And then she was gone, leaving me standing there, my heart pounding in my chest.

This… this changes everything.

The café was dimly lit, the kind of place where the soft hum of conversations and the clinking of cups created a cocoon of intimacy. Yel was already there when I arrived, sitting in a corner booth with a cup of coffee cupped between her hands. Her hair was draped over one shoulder, and she looked up as I approached, a tentative smile playing on her lips.

“Hey,” she said softly, her voice carrying a warmth that made my chest tighten.

“Hey,” I replied, sliding into the seat across from her. The air between us felt charged, like the quiet before a storm. “How are you holding up?”

She sighed, her fingers tracing the rim of her cup. “Better, I think. Thanks for asking. It’s… nice to have someone to talk to.”

I nodded, letting the silence hang for a moment before I spoke again. “You said you wanted to talk about our shared past. What’s on your mind?”

Yel hesitated, her gaze dropping to the table. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us. About how close we used to be. How different things were back then.”

Her words tugged at something deep inside me, a memory of childhood summers and stolen glances. “Yeah,” I murmured. “We were inseparable.”

She looked up, her eyes searching mine. “Do you ever wonder what happened? To us, I mean?”

I leaned back, considering her question. “I think life just… got in the way. We grew up, went to different schools, met new people.”

Yel’s expression softened, but there was a flicker of sadness in her eyes. “I guess. But it’s more than that, isn’t it? I feel like… I let something slip away. Something I didn’t realize I had until it was gone.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I stayed quiet, letting her fill the silence.

“Do you remember that time we went to the beach?” she asked suddenly, a small smile tugging at her lips. “When we were, what, twelve?”

I chuckled, the memory instantly flooding back. “How could I forget? You dared me to jump off that cliff, and I ended up scraping my knee on the rocks.”

Her laugh was soft, almost nostalgic. “You were so brave back then. Always doing whatever I asked, no matter how crazy.”

I shrugged, feeling a warmth spread through me at her words. “Anything for you, Yel.”

Her smile wavered, and she looked away, her fingers tightening around her cup. “I miss that,” she whispered. “I miss you.”

The air between us grew heavier, and I felt a pang of something I couldn’t quite name. “I’m still here,” I said quietly. “I’ve always been here.”

She met my gaze again, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “I know. And that’s why I’m so grateful. You’re the only one who’s stuck by me through all of this.”

I reached across the table, gently placing my hand over hers. “You don’t have to thank me, Yel. That’s what friends are for.”

She studied our hands, her thumb brushing against mine in a way that sent a jolt through my veins. “But what if… what if I want more than that?”

My breath caught, and I felt my pulse quicken. “Yel—”

She cut me off, her voice trembling. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I just… I feel like I don’t even know you anymore. The real you. And it scares me.”

I tightened my grip on her hand, my mind racing. “You do know me. Better than anyone else.”

She shook her head, her tears spilling over. “I don’t. Not really. I was so caught up in my own world, in him, that I didn’t even notice what I was losing. And now… now I’m afraid it’s too late.”

“It’s not,” I said firmly, my voice low and steady. “It’s never too late, Yel.”

She looked up at me, her eyes wide and searching. “Then tell me,” she whispered. “Tell me who you are. Really.”

I hesitated, feeling the weight of her words settle over me. “I’m the same person I’ve always been,” I said finally. “The one who’d do anything for you.”

Her lips parted, and I could see the conflict in her eyes—the fear, the hope, the longing. “Even now?” she asked, her voice barely audible.

“Especially now.”

She stared at me for a long moment, her breath shallow, and then she pulled her hand away, wiping at her tears. “I don’t deserve you,” she murmured, her voice breaking.

“Don’t say that,” I said firmly, leaning forward. “You deserve everything, Yel. And if I can be a part of that, then I’m here. No matter what.”

She looked at me, her eyes filled with a vulnerability that made my chest ache. “What if I mess it up again? What if I lose you?”

“You won’t,” I promised, my voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside me. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She bit her lip, her gaze dropping to the table again. “I don’t know how to do this,” she admitted. “How to… be close to someone without ruining it.”

“We’ll figure it out,” I said softly. “Together.”

Her eyes met mine, and for the first time that evening, I saw a glimmer of hope. “Together,” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

We sat there in silence for a while, the weight of our conversation hanging in the air. But it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence—it was the kind that felt like the first step toward something new, something fragile and beautiful.

Eventually, Yel spoke again, her voice soft but steady. “Can I tell you something? About… him?”

I nodded, feeling a pang of unease but pushing it aside. “Of course.”

She took a deep breath, her fingers tracing patterns on the table. “He was… charming, at first. Funny, confident, the kind of guy who made you feel like you were the only person in the room. But after a while, I started to notice things. Little things, at first. The way he’d get jealous if I talked to other guys. The way he’d make me feel guilty for spending time with my friends.”

Her voice was calm, but I could see the pain in her eyes, and it made my chest tighten.

“And then, it got worse,” she continued, her voice trembling. “He started to control everything—what I wore, who I talked to, where I went. And when I tried to stand up to him, he’d just… twist it around, make it seem like it was my fault.”

I clenched my fists under the table, but I kept my voice steady. “He was an asshole, Yel. You didn’t deserve that.”

She nodded, her tears spilling over again. “I know… now. But back then, I just wanted him to love me. I thought if I could just be enough, he’d treat me the way he used to. But he never did.”

I reached across the table again, gently taking her hand in mine. “You are enough. You always have been.”

She looked up at me, her eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and sorrow. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For saying that. For… everything.”

I squeezed her hand, feeling a surge of protectiveness. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m just glad you’re here. With me.”

Her lips curved into a small smile, and for a moment, it felt like the world had stopped spinning. “Me too,” she murmured.

The tension between us was palpable, a quiet hum of something waiting to be acknowledged. But neither of us spoke, neither of us moved. We just sat there, our hands intertwined, our breaths syncing in the quiet stillness of the café.

And then, slowly, tentatively, Yel leaned forward, her eyes searching mine. “Do you think…” she began, her voice barely above a whisper. “Do you think we could ever…?”

Her words trailed off, but I knew what she was asking. And the answer was there, in the way my heart raced, in the way my gaze lingered on her lips.

But before I could respond, before I could even think, she pulled back slightly, her cheeks flushing. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, her voice trembling. “I shouldn’t have—”

I cut her off, my hand tightening around hers. “Don’t apologize, Yel,” I said softly. “Not for this.”

She looked at me, her eyes wide and uncertain, and I felt a surge of something I couldn’t quite name—something that made me want to close the distance between us, to erase the pain in her eyes.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I leaned back, giving her the space she needed, even as my heart screamed for more.

And in that moment, I knew one thing for certain: this wasn’t the end. It was only the beginning.

The café was quiet, the soft hum of a distant espresso machine the only sound that broke the silence between us. Yel’s fingers traced the edge of her coffee cup, her eyes downcast, but there was something in the way she looked at me—something that made my heart skip a beat. The air between us felt charged, electric, as though we were on the brink of something neither of us had the courage to name.

“You’re the only one who’s stayed,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “Everyone else just… left.” Her eyes met mine, and I could see the vulnerability there, the raw need for connection that she’d buried so deep for so long.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I said firmly, reaching across the table to take her hand in mine. Her fingers were warm, and she didn’t pull away. Instead, she intertwined them with mine, her grip tight, as though she was afraid I might disappear if she let go.

“You always were too good to me,” she said softly, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. “Even when I didn’t deserve it.”

“You’ve always deserved it,” I replied, my voice steady even as my heart raced. “You just… forgot that for a while.”

She looked at me then, her gaze searching, as though she was trying to see past the words, past the surface, to the truth beneath. I felt exposed, vulnerable, but I didn’t look away. I couldn’t. Not when she was looking at me like that.

“What if…” she started, then hesitated, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. “What if I want more than just friendship?”

The question hung in the air between us, heavy, loaded. My breath caught in my throat, and for a moment, I couldn’t speak. I could only stare at her, at the way her cheeks flushed pink, at the way her eyes darted away, then back to mine, searching for an answer I wasn’t sure I could give.

“More?” I finally managed, my voice barely a whisper.

She nodded, her hand tightening around mine. “I don’t want to lose you again. Not like before. Not… not like everyone else.”

I could feel the heat of her gaze, the intensity of her words, and it was all I could do to keep my composure. But there was something else, too—something that made my stomach twist, my chest tighten. Something that made me want to pull her close, to kiss her until she forgot all the pain, all the heartache.

But I didn’t. Not yet.

Instead, I leaned forward, our faces inches apart, the warmth of her breath ghosting over my skin. “You’re not going to lose me,” I said, my voice low, steady. “Not now. Not ever.”

Her eyes widened, and for a moment, I thought she might pull away. But then she leaned in, her lips brushing against mine, soft, tentative, as though she was testing the waters. It was a kiss, but it wasn’t just a kiss. It was a question, a promise, a plea all rolled into one.

And then she deepened it.

Her hands slid up to my neck, her fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of my neck as she pulled me closer. Her lips moved against mine with a hunger that sent a shiver down my spine, her tongue teasing, coaxing, begging for more. I could feel the heat of her body pressed against mine, the curve of her breasts brushing against my chest, and it took every ounce of self-control I had not to give in, not to let myself get lost in the moment.

But I couldn’t. Not here. Not like this.

Reluctantly, I pulled back, my breath ragged, my heart pounding in my chest. Yel’s eyes were dark, her lips swollen, and I could see the confusion, the hurt, in her gaze.

“I—” she started, but I cut her off, my voice soft but firm.

“Not here,” I said, my hand reaching up to cup her cheek. “Not like this.”

She stared at me for a moment, her brows furrowed, and then she nodded, her shoulders slumping in resignation. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I just… I don’t want to lose you.”

“You’re not going to lose me,” I repeated, my thumb brushing lightly over her cheek. “But this… this isn’t just about us. It’s about you. About what you need. What you’re ready for.”

She looked at me then, her eyes searching, and I could see the vulnerability, the fear, the hope, all swirling together in her gaze. “And what if I’m ready?” she asked, her voice trembling. “What if I’m ready for more?”

I hesitated, my mind racing, my heart pounding. Because the truth was, I didn’t know. I didn’t know if she was ready, if I was ready, if this was the right thing to do. But I knew one thing for certain: I couldn’t hurt her. Not again. Not like before.

“Then we’ll figure it out,” I said finally, my voice steady even as my heart raced. “Together.”

She nodded, her eyes never leaving mine, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I saw a flicker of hope, of happiness, in her gaze. And in that moment, I knew one thing for certain: this wasn’t the end. It was only the beginning.

The air between us was electric as we stood in the dimly lit hallway of my apartment. Yel’s back was pressed against the wall, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. Her eyes, wide and vulnerable, locked onto mine, searching for something—reassurance, permission, desire? I wasn’t entirely sure. But the tension was unbearable, and the way she looked at me—soft lips parted, cheeks flushed—made it impossible to think clearly.

My hand found its way to her waist, fingers grazing the curve of her hip as I stepped closer. Her breath hitched, a small, almost imperceptible sound that sent a shiver down my spine. I could feel the heat radiating from her body, the way she trembled slightly under my touch. My other hand lifted to her face, cupping her cheek gently. Her skin was warm, and she leaned into my palm, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment before opening again.

“Yel,” I murmured, my voice low and rough, “are you sure about this?”

She hesitated, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. Then, slowly, she nodded. “I need this,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I need you.”

That was all the confirmation I needed. My hand slid from her waist to the back of her thigh, lifting her leg gently as I pressed myself against her. Her breath escaped in a soft gasp, fingers gripping the fabric of my shirt as if anchoring herself to the moment. My lips brushed against hers, tentative at first, testing the waters. Her response was immediate—she kissed me back with a hunger that took my breath away, her hands tangling in my hair as she pulled me closer.

The kiss deepened, our lips moving together in a rhythm that felt both familiar and entirely new. Her body molded against mine, and I could feel the heat building between us, the way her heart raced in time with mine. My hand traveled higher up her thigh, fingers teasing the hem of her skirt before dipping beneath it. Her breath caught again, and she broke the kiss, her eyes wide and searching.

“Wait,” she breathed, her voice barely audible. “I… I want to show you something.”

I pulled back slightly, giving her space, even though every fiber of my being ached to close the distance again. “Whatever you need,” I said softly, my hand still resting on her thigh.

Yel looked down, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red. With trembling fingers, she reached for the hem of her sweater and began to pull it up. My breath caught as she revealed her soft, pale skin inch by inch, until the sweater was completely off, discarded on the floor beside us. She stood before me in nothing but her bra and skirt, her hands instinctively moving to cover herself as she looked up at me, unsure.

“You’re gorgeous,” I whispered, my voice filled with awe. I couldn’t take my eyes off her—the curve of her waist, the soft swell of her breasts, the way her skin seemed to glow in the dim light. She blushed furiously at my words, her hands still shielding herself, but I could see the small, shy smile tugging at her lips.

“You really think so?” she asked, her voice small and unsure.

“I know so,” I replied, stepping closer. My hands gently reached for hers, pulling them away from her chest. “Don’t hide from me, Yel. You’re beautiful.”

Her breath hitched as my hands brushed against her skin, and she slowly let her arms fall to her sides, revealing herself completely. I couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped my lips as I took in the sight of her. Her bra clung to her curves, accentuating her full breasts, and my fingers itched to touch her, to feel her skin beneath my hands.

“You’re so stunning,” I murmured, my voice thick with desire. My hands moved to her hips, pulling her closer as my lips found hers again. This kiss was deeper, more urgent, our bodies pressing together as if trying to erase any space between us. Her hands slid up my chest, fingers fumbling with the buttons of my shirt until it was open and discarded beside her sweater.

The heat between us was almost unbearable, every touch sending sparks through my body. My hands roamed her back, tracing the curve of her spine before stopping at the clasp of her bra. I hesitated, pulling back slightly to look into her eyes. “Can I?” I asked, my voice husky.

She nodded, her breath coming in shallow gasps. “Yes,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

With trembling fingers, I undid the clasp, letting the fabric fall away. Her breasts were even more beautiful than I had imagined—full and soft, her nipples hard and pebbled under the cool air of the room. I couldn’t resist the urge to touch her, my hands cupping her breasts gently, my thumbs brushing over her nipples. She let out a soft moan, her eyes fluttering shut as she leaned into my touch.

“You’re so perfect,” I murmured, my lips trailing down her neck, across her collarbone, until they found the softness of her breast. She gasped, her hands tangling in my hair as I kissed and teased her sensitive skin, her moans growing louder with each touch.

“I… I’ve never felt like this before,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “It’s like… I can’t think, I just… I need more.”

My lips returned to hers, silencing her words with a kiss that was both tender and desperate. Her hands roamed my chest, exploring every inch of my skin as if trying to memorize the feel of me. Our bodies pressed together, the heat between us growing with every touch, every breath.

“Tell me what you want,” I murmured against her lips, my hands trailing down her sides to the waistband of her skirt. “Tell me, Yel.”

Her eyes met mine, dark with desire and something else—something deeper. “I want you,” she breathed, her voice filled with need. “All of you.”

Her voice lingered in the air, trembling with a raw vulnerability that made my chest ache. “I want you,” she had said, and those three words echoed in my mind like a mantra. I knelt before her, my hands resting on her hips as I looked up at her. Her eyes were wide, filled with a mix of anticipation and nervousness, and I could see the way her chest rose and fell with each breath.

“Are you sure?” I asked, my voice low, my hands sliding down to the hem of her skirt.

She nodded, her lips parting slightly as she whispered, “Yes.”

Slowly, I hooked my fingers under the fabric of her skirt, pulling it down her legs. The sound of the fabric brushing against her skin was soft, almost muffled by the pounding of my heart in my ears. Her thighs were warm beneath my palms, and I could feel the faint tremor in them as I leaned in closer, my breath hot against her skin.

Yel let out a small gasp as I pressed my lips to her inner thigh, my hands squeezing gently. “Oh God,” she breathed, her fingers tangling in my hair.

I moved slowly, savoring the taste of her skin, the way her body responded to every touch. My lips trailed higher, and I could feel the heat radiating from her, the way her legs trembled as I got closer. When I finally reached the delicate lace of her panties, I paused, looking up at her.

Her face was flushed, her lips slightly parted, and her eyes were half-lidded with desire. “Please,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

I didn’t need any more encouragement. I hooked my fingers into the waistband of her panties, pulling them down her legs. The air between us was electric, and I could feel the tension building as I leaned in closer, my breath hot against her.

The first touch of my tongue against her made her gasp, her fingers tightening in my hair. “Yes,” she moaned, her hips arching slightly towards me.

I took my time, exploring her with my tongue, savoring the taste of her. Her moans grew louder, more insistent, and I could feel the way her thighs trembled against my shoulders. Her hands pressed down on my head, urging me closer, and I obliged, deepening my strokes.

“Oh God,” she cried, her voice trembling. “Just like that.”

Her breathing grew ragged, her moans more desperate, and I could feel the tension building in her body. She was close, so close, and I wanted to push her over the edge. I wrapped my arms around her thighs, holding her steady as I continued to stroke her with my tongue.

“Please,” she begged, her voice breaking. “Don’t stop.”

I didn’t. I kept going, my tongue moving faster, more insistently, until I felt her body tense, her thighs tightening around me. She let out a loud, desperate moan, her nails digging into my scalp as she came undone.

For a moment, she was still, her body trembling with the aftershocks of her orgasm. Then she looked down at me, her eyes dark with desire. “Come here,” she whispered, her voice hoarse.

I stood, my body pressed against hers, and she reached up, pulling me into a deep, passionate kiss. Her lips were soft, her tongue hot against mine, and I could taste the remnants of her on my lips. Her hands roamed my body, desperate and needy, and I could feel the way she pressed herself against me, her body still humming with the aftershocks of her release.

“I need you,” she breathed against my lips, her hands fumbling with the buttons on my shirt. “All of you.”

I didn’t stop her as she pushed my shirt off my shoulders, her hands immediately going to my chest. Her touch was electric, sending shivers down my spine, and I could feel the way she trembled as she kissed me, her body pressed tightly against mine.

Her hands slid down to the waistband of my pants, and I could feel the way she hesitated, her fingers trembling slightly. “Is this okay?” she asked, her voice soft, uncertain.

I nodded, my hands resting on her hips. “Yes,” I whispered, my voice hoarse.

She slid her hands under the fabric, her fingers brushing against the hard length of me, and I let out a low groan. Her touch was tentative, almost shy, but it was enough to send a jolt of pleasure through me.

“You’re so hard,” she whispered, her fingers wrapping around me.

I let out a low groan, my head falling back as she stroked me. Her touch was light, almost teasing, but it was enough to make my knees weak.

“Yel,” I groaned, my hands tightening on her hips.

She looked up at me, her eyes dark with desire. “Tell me what you want,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

I didn’t know how to answer her. I wanted so much, more than I could put into words. But I also knew that we had already crossed a line, that this moment was fragile, delicate.

Before I could respond, she leaned in, pressing her lips to mine in a deep, desperate kiss. Her body pressed against mine, her hands still wrapped around me, and I could feel the way she trembled with need.

“I want you,” she whispered against my lips, her voice breaking. “All of you.”

Her lips were still pressed to mine, her breath hot and ragged, when she suddenly broke the kiss, her eyes locking onto mine with a wild, almost feral intensity. Before I could even process what was happening, Yel’s hands were on my shoulders, and with a surprising strength, she pushed me backward. I stumbled slightly, my legs hitting the edge of the bed, and then I was falling, the soft mattress catching me as she followed, her body landing on top of mine in a tangle of limbs.

Her hair was a mess, strands sticking to her flushed cheeks, and her skin glistened with a thin sheen of sweat. She was breathing hard, her chest rising and falling as she straddled me, her warmth pressing into me in a way that made my head spin. My hands instinctively found her hips, anchoring myself to her as she began to move, grinding against me with a urgency that sent sparks racing through my body.

“Fuck,” I muttered, the word escaping my lips in a breathless gasp. Her name followed, “Yel….”_

She didn’t respond with words, only a low, throaty moan that vibrated through her chest and into mine. Her hands moved from my shoulders to my chest, her fingers splaying as if she wanted to feel every inch of me. Her eyes were half-lidded, dark with desire, and her lips were parted, her breath coming in short, shallow bursts. She was completely lost in the moment, and I was right there with her.

Her hips moved again, slower this time, but with a deliberate rhythm that had me gripping her tighter, my fingers digging into her soft skin. She bit her lip, her gaze dropping to where our bodies were pressed together, and then her hands were on mine, guiding them upward.

“Touch me,” she whispered, her voice husky and raw. “Please.”_

Her hands brought mine to her breasts, and I didn’t hesitate. My palms cupped them, the weight of them filling my hands, and I could feel the way her heartbeat quickened under my touch. She let out a shuddering sigh, her head tipping back slightly as I began to knead them gently, her skin warm and impossibly soft beneath my fingers.

“More,” she breathed, her hips still moving against me, the friction maddening. “Don’t stop.”_

I didn’t. I couldn’t. My hands roamed over her, exploring every curve, every dip, every inch of her that I could reach. Her moans grew louder, more desperate, and her movements became less controlled, more frantic. She was everywhere—her scent, her warmth, her sounds—and I was drowning in her, completely consumed.

Her lips found mine again, the kiss deep and hungry, her tongue sliding against mine in a way that had me groaning into her mouth. Her hands tangled in my hair, pulling slightly, and I could feel the way her body trembled above mine. She was so close, teetering on the edge, and I wanted her to fall.

“Yel…” I managed to whisper against her lips, my voice strained with the effort of speaking through the haze of desire. “You’re so beautiful…”_

She pulled back slightly, her eyes meeting mine, and for a moment, she just stared at me, her chest heaving. Then she smiled, a small, almost shy smile that was so unlike anything I’d seen from her before. It was pure, unguarded, and it took my breath away.

“I need you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I need all of you.”_

Her words sent a jolt through me, and my hands tightened on her hips, pulling her closer still. She gasped, her body arching into mine, and I could feel the way she was unraveling, her control slipping away. Her nails dug into my shoulders, and her lips found my neck, biting down gently as she moaned against my skin.

“Don’t stop,” she begged, her voice breaking. “Please… don’t stop.”_

I didn’t. I couldn’t. My hands moved to her thighs, squeezing gently as I urged her to keep moving, to keep grinding against me. Her moans grew louder, more urgent, and her breaths came in short, shallow gasps. She was so close, so close, and I could feel the way her body was tensing, the way she was holding herself back.

“Yel…” I whispered again, my voice rough with need. “Come for me…”_

Her hips stuttered, and then she was falling, her body going rigid as a loud, desperate cry tore from her lips. Her hands gripped me tightly, her nails leaving crescent-shaped marks on my skin, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was her, about the way she was coming undone in my arms, about the way her body trembled and shook with the force of her release.

Her breathing was ragged, her chest heaving as she collapsed against me, her forehead resting on my shoulder. Her body was still trembling, her skin slick with sweat, and I could feel the way her heart was racing against mine. She didn’t speak, didn’t move, just stayed there, pressed against me, her breath warm against my skin.

I didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to even begin to process what had just happened. But I didn’t need words. Not right now. All I needed was her, and the way she was holding onto me, like I was the only thing keeping her grounded.

“Yel…” I started, my voice soft, tentative.

She lifted her head slightly, her eyes meeting mine, and there was something in her gaze—something raw, something vulnerable—that made my chest ache. She didn’t say anything, just reached up, her fingers brushing against my cheek, her touch so gentle it almost hurt.

“Don’t let go,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Please… don’t let go.”_

I didn’t. I couldn’t. My arms tightened around her, pulling her closer, and I pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. She sighed, her body relaxing against mine, and for a moment, everything was still, quiet. It was just us, just this moment, and I never wanted it to end.

But then she shifted slightly against me, her body moving in a way that sent a fresh wave of heat through me. She looked up at me again, her eyes dark, her lips parted, and I could see the desire still burning in her gaze, even now, even after everything.

“More…” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I need more.”

Her breath hitched as she whispered, “More…” and her voice trembled with a need that mirrored my own. I could feel her body trembling against mine, her warmth pressing into me, begging for something neither of us could deny anymore. My hands slid down her back, fingers tracing the curve of her spine, and she let out a soft gasp as I pulled her closer. Her lips found mine again, hot and desperate, and I kissed her with a hunger that surprised even me.

Her hands moved to my chest, pushing me back gently until I was lying flat on the bed. She straddled me, her thighs pressing against my sides, and I could feel the heat of her core against my stomach. She leaned down, her lips trailing kisses along my jawline, down my neck, and across my chest. Her tongue flicked over my nipple, teasing it until it hardened under her touch, and I groaned, my hands gripping her hips tightly.

“Yel,” I breathed, my voice rough with desire. She looked up at me, her eyes dark and filled with a need that sent a shiver down my spine. She smiled, a wicked, knowing smile, and then her lips continued their descent. She kissed her way down my stomach, her hands sliding over my hips as she moved lower. My heart raced as I realized where she was going, and I could feel the anticipation building inside me like a wildfire.

Her lips brushed against the inside of my thigh, and I tensed, my breath catching in my throat. She looked up at me, her eyes locking onto mine, and then her tongue darted out, teasing me, tasting me. I moaned, my hips lifting off the bed as her tongue circled my aching core, slow and deliberate. She took her time, exploring every inch of me, her hands gripping my thighs to keep me from squirming away.

But I didn’t want to move. I wanted to stay right here, lost in the pleasure she was giving me. Her tongue flicked over my sensitive bud, and I cried out, my hands tangling in her hair. She moaned against me, the vibrations sending shocks of pleasure through my body, and I could feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge.

“Please,” I begged, my voice shaking. “Yel, please…”

She didn’t respond, at least not with words. Instead, she intensified her movements, her tongue circling me faster, harder. Her fingers joined in, sliding inside me with ease, and I gasped, my back arching off the bed. She curled her fingers, hitting that spot inside me that made me see stars, and I screamed her name as I came undone, my body trembling with the force of my release.

She didn’t stop, though. She kept going, her tongue and fingers working in perfect harmony to drag another orgasm out of me. I was panting, my body shaking, but she didn’t slow down. It was too much, and yet I didn’t want her to stop. My hands fisted the sheets, and I clawed at the mattress as she brought me to the brink again and again.

Finally, she pulled away, her lips glistening, and she looked up at me with a look of pure satisfaction. I was boneless, my body still trembling, and she crawled up my body, her breasts brushing against my skin as she moved. She kissed me, her lips soft against mine, and I could taste myself on her tongue. It was intoxicating.

She pulled back just enough to look into my eyes, her chest heaving as she caught her breath. “Your turn,” she whispered, her voice husky with desire.

I didn’t need to be told twice. I flipped her over onto her back, pinning her wrists above her head with one hand. She gasped, her eyes widening, and I smiled, lowering myself to kiss her deeply. My free hand slid down her body, teasing her breasts, her stomach, and finally finding her core. I slipped two fingers inside her, and she moaned, her hips lifting off the bed to meet my hand.

I moved my fingers inside her, curling them just the way I knew she liked, and she cried out, her nails digging into my arm. Her body jerked with pleasure, and I watched her face as she came undone, her mouth opened in a silent scream.

I didn’t stop there. I wanted to push her further, to make her feel as good as she had made me feel. I pulled my fingers out of her and positioned myself between her legs, my hardness pressing against her entrance. She looked up at me, her eyes pleading, and I thrust into her, burying myself to the hilt in one smooth motion.

She gasped, her legs wrapping around my waist, and I began to move, slow and steady at first, but quickly building into a frantic pace. Her nails raked down my back, and I groaned, the pleasure-pain only driving me on. Her moans filled the room, growing louder and more desperate with every thrust, and I could feel her walls tightening around me as she got closer to the edge.

I reached between us, my thumb circling her clit, and she cried out, her body jerking with pleasure as she came. Her walls clenched around me, and I couldn’t hold back any longer. I buried myself deep inside her, my own release washing over me in waves as I filled her.

We collapsed together, our bodies tangled and sweaty, and for a moment, there was nothing but the sound of our breathing filling the room. Then she turned to me, her eyes soft and filled with something I couldn’t quite name.

“Again,” she whispered, her voice a plea, and I knew I couldn’t say no.

I rolled her onto her stomach, her hips lifting instinctively, and I entered her from behind, my hands gripping her waist tightly. She moaned, her back arching, and I set a punishing pace, my hips slamming into hers with enough force to make the bed creak. Her moans turned into screams, and I could feel her orgasm building again, her walls tightening around me as she came.

I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. We moved together, our bodies connected in the most intimate way possible, and I lost count of how many times we came together. All I knew was the feeling of her, the sounds she made, and the way she clung to me as if I were the only thing keeping her grounded.

Hours later, we were still tangled together, our bodies spent but our desire far from sated. She looked up at me, her eyes half-lidded and filled with a hunger that matched my own.

You even found yourself wondering if Harry’s addiction really was all that bad, or if, in the heat of the moment, it just felt really, very bad. On the contrary, that other little voice in your head-the angel that sat on your shoulder across from the devil-was there to reassure your decisions regarding yours and Harry’s relationship. Back then, Harry was your absolute everything. In order for you to pack up your shit, leave, and never speak to him again-that wasn’t easy for you. It was one of the most painful and difficult conclusions you’d had to come to. You remembered that discomfort as if it were yesterday. 

You breathed a sigh of relief as your hand graced the fabric of a shirt, the texture bringing you back into your body as you relished in the senses the silk left on your finger tips. You nodded your head, reassuring yourself with some gentle self-parenting. Two things can be true. You can desire Harry more than anything in the world and crave that affection again and again until the end of time. However, it doesn’t erase that what Harry did in the past was wrong. You reminded yourself how this current Harry was a slightly altered one of the version you broke things off with. In fact, he quite reminded you of the Harry you knew when you two first met. If it was easy to fall for him back then, why should now be any different? A medium-volume tone rang from your phone, which was sitting on top of a nearby table. You cursed under your breath as the familiar alarm you’d set for yourself to ensure you wouldn’t be late sounded throughout your apartment.

“God damn it”, you huffed as you glanced at your empty hands. You hadn’t even picked a single piece of clothing to wear yet, and that alarm signified you needed to leave in five minutes. By some grace from some god-you were able to throw something halfway decent together and smooth the fabric over your body. Quickly, you walked towards your front door as your eyes examined your form one last time before giving a nod in semi-approval. Your keys twirled around your finger as you briskly walked to your car. 

The moment you sat in the driver's side with the door closed and the key turned in the ignition, that’s when the anxiety began to race in your mind ten times as much as before. __________________________________

As if today couldn’t have been more stressful, you had to fucking parallel park in one of the most nightlife of all nightlife neighborhoods in the city. Sweat trickled from your forehead to your done-up eyebrows. You dabbed a napkin ever so slightly to soak up some of the liquid that fell on your brow amid your nervousness.

Like clockwork, your phone buzzed in the middle compartment of your car. You already knew who it would be. “I’m here. When you get to the host, just tell them your name and they’ll know where to take you. Can’t wait to see you. H x” You wore a smitten look as you typed in a quick response from the driver's side of your parked car.

“I just parallel parked for you. I hope you know that.” As Harry sat in the back of the restaurant, he felt the vibration in his pants pocket. An amused chuckle quietly vibrated in his chest. His fingers soon were tapping in a reply. “How do you still not know how to parallel park when you live in the city?” Harry smirked to himself at his clever reply as he moved to tuck his phone back in his pocket. That is until he was interrupted by the sound of someone's throat clearing. His mind found a moment of fear at the thought that it was a fan or someone else who dared to ruin this night he so intricately had planned with you. However, the person who brought him a moment of panic was actually the very person he had curated this night for. Harry breathed a sigh of relief as his green eyes met yours. He tried his hardest, but ultimately failed as he succumbed to his desires, as his eyes took you in and froze on the parts of your body that he found to be especially pleasing to the eye. You were beautiful, not that he ever doubted you wouldn’t be. “Hey,” you timidly responded as you moved locks of your hair further away from your face. In the most gentlemanly of all manners, Harry stood to his feet and took a step towards you. A boyish grin perforated his facial features as his hands settled inside of the deep pockets in the front of his pants. “I see you made it even after having to parallel park.” You rolled your eyes as a single laugh exited your mouth, “Barely. Be happy I didn’t give up after my first attempt and just drive back home.” “First attempt? Were there other attempts?” Harry asked, already knowing the answer to your truly tragic parking skills, or lack thereof. “Shut up”, you playfully smacked Harry’s shoulder with the back of your hand as neither of you held eye contact in shared amusement. After moments of silence and looks of admiration, both of you took your seats. However, you couldn’t help but sneak in a once-over as your eyes descended from the top of Harry’s head to the bottom of his feet.

He was wearing a mix of fashion and comfortability. A plain colored shirt adorned his chest as a pair of slacks and a black belt hit him midwaist, clinging to his lower half in all of the preferred places. The hem of his pants just barely kissed the marble floor that was underneath a pair of addidas sneakers that looked nearly fresh from the box. God-he looked expensive and handsome. “I take it you like my outfit?” Startled out of your trance, your eyes looked as if they were going to bulge out of your head as they landed on Harry’s humored expression.

You were quick to put on the bravest face of them all and drop a witty reply.

“Could use some work”, you spoke with a fake wince and tilt of your head that Harry nearly believed. If it weren’t for your straight-lined lips upturning to an amused smile, Harry would’ve started asking you for fashion advice right then and there. “I’m joking.” “No shit”, Harry spoke as his mouth hovered over the top of his glass of water. Humored, you shook your head as your fingers squeezed the lemon that once sat on the edge of your glass, and allowed its juices to drip into your water.

“Someone's in a mood today”, you joked as Harry wore a smug grin and gulped down his sip of water

Suddenly, a mischievous phrase struck his thoughts and dared him to speak it. Who was he to deny himself a little banter? “Like the mood you were in last Sunday night?” Your eyes watched Harry in confusion as he flipped through the menu with eyes that spoke of a secret little joke that only he was in on. Silently, you sat, trying to analyze his words and what he was getting at. 

Ever so often, Harry’s eyes would leave the menu to look at your squinted ones; he couldn’t stop himself from letting out a small chuckle at your puzzled expression.

Last Sunday night-at the party? You thought you had been acting pretty normal and, if you were being honest, much more reserved than norm- Mid-sentence, it hit you. The text messages. He was talking about the suggestive texts you and him had shared the night of your reunion. The ones that spread heat along your inner thighs and sent a small, yet powerful symphony of pleasure. Your thighs instinctively pressed together under the table-you were thankful Harry couldn't see your attempt at easing some pressure in the most discreet way possible. Both of your eyes met-Harry’s mixed with the perfect balance of mischievous and something deeper, much more passionate and starved. Thankfully, a waiter spared you having to conjure up some sort of reply to Harry’s teasing. Or at least, deliver him a response right away. You knew Harry well enough to know he wouldn’t let you get away without discussing the nature of your messages that occurred nearly a week ago.

He always did enjoy getting a rise out of you. Harry delivered his order first to the waiter, buying you just enough time to scan through the folded brochure-like object that you hadn’t even looked through yet. After deciding on the first thing you saw that sounded appetizing, your order was spoken to the waiter and once each of your orders were sorted, with a friendly smile, the waiter set off for the next table of customers. Leaving you and Harry alone yet again. His eyes returned to boring back into yours. Harry still wore a facial expression that was dripping with playful arrogance. “What?”, you shyly questioned as you busied your nervous hands by laying the fabric napkin on your lap. “Oh, nothing”, Harry said as he rested his elbows on the top of the table, his chin now resting on the top of his hands that were folded together. “Elbows on the table? At a restaurant of this price range?”, you teased in an attempt to draw the conversation in a different direction. It worked, but only partially. Harry shrugged silently as his eyes watched you-much more amused and mesmerized by you than his fucking elbows and this overpriced restaurant. He couldn’t help but have lingering eyes that he couldn’t pry away even if he tried his hardest. It made a heat wave spread to your face.

“I missed you.” You scoffed playfully, “It’s been less than a week Harry.” “But before that, it was years. Too many years.” A surge of energy wreaked havoc on your body as it began to tremble with a small pulse, yet you could still feel it was there, just barely. “Is that why you asked me to dinner tonight?” Harry leant back to slouch in his chair. His arms crossed in front of his chest as he simply watched and pondered your question. “I asked you for a lot of reasons.” “Like what?” “Too many to list.” You pressed further, “Then give me a couple.” Harry sighed, this time being the one to feel the nervous energy through him as he was tasked with telling the barest of truths. “Alright, number one”, Harry held up a single finger in the air as you watched in amusement. “I missed you-” “You already said that one!” “So what?” Harry protested with a grin on his face. “So it doesn’t count if I already know.” “Hmmm, I don’t remember you giving me rules.” “Harry!” you spoke loudly, too loud for a place of this caliber. Nervously, you looked around as you brought your glass up to your lips and took a sip of the clear liquid. “You always did love screaming my name.” “Ohmyfuckinggod”, you mumbled quickly under hushed breath. “You can’t say shit like that in public!”

“Where can I say it then? My place after dinner?” This man, I swear to God. “Is this one of your reasons for asking me to dinner?” Harry quirked his eyebrow in amusement, “It is nice to have dinner with someone who gets my sarcasm. So…maybe it is.” You took the compliment as you raised the glass up to your lips again, draining it of all of the remaining beverage. “I’m surprised you didn’t get wine.” Years apart and he still knew your drink of choice when eating at a sit down restaurant. “I didn’t want to drink in front of you because…you know”, you paused. “I just didn’t want to trigger you or anything-” Before you could finish your sentence, Harry gave a single nod that featured a knowing glance and a small, weak smile.

He could feel his insides melt at the thoughtfulness on your part. A smile dared to spread along his lips as he spoke, “You don’t have to do that, really. I don’t miss drinking at all anymore. So happy I don’t have to deal with another hangover ever again.”

You nodded, fully believing his words, yet still not completely convinced that drinking in front of him was the wisest idea. “I bet, but really-i’m fine. Alcohol isn’t a necessity for me to enjoy dinner with a friend.” Harry felt a ping of joy hit him in the center of his heart. “So we’re friends?”. His voice was as soft as cashmere.

“I mean, yeah. Only if that’s okay.” “I would really like to be friends”, Harry answered quickly with bright pupils.

His hand fidgeted like it wanted to reach out towards you and rest the palm of your hand on top of his. He could picture it perfectly in his head-how your soft skin would feel on his and how you’d smile and rub your thumb along his palm. Harry sighed to himself out of foolish thinking and moved his eyes back up to yours.

Thankfully, the waiter arrived with food in hand. The perfect opportunity for a much-needed change of subject.

The energy was bright and cozy despite the low-lit lighting in the restaurant. Steam rose up from either of your plates as you eyed them with mouths agape.

“What did you order again?”

“Eggplant Parmigiana.” 

Harry hummed in approval as you moved your eyes over to his plate, which was full of noodles and a light colored sauce, garnished with variously colored vegetables.

“How do you feel about-” “Going half and half?” Harry finished for you. You smiled and nodded.

“Just like old times.” “Just like old times,” Harry reiterated as he shoveled a helping of pasta onto your plate as you dug your fork and knife into the perfectly crisped and breaded eggplant.

Both of you dived into your entrees that were now complemented by half of the other person's dinner plate. 

Harry watched with curious eyes as you took the first bite, holding his breath as if this was the food he cooked with his bare hands and was facing life or death based on your outcome. 

Really, he just wanted tonight to be perfect for you.

You moaned as the sauce mixed with the fried vegetables and noodles hit your tongue, sending a flurry of spices and seasonings that mixed in the best way possible.

“Good?” Harry chuckled, though your reaction made it pretty clear how you felt about your choice.

You nodded with a mouth still chewing. “Sooo fucking good”, you spoke the swear softly once the food had gone down your throat.

The rest of the meal went by as you might have guessed. Both of you commenting on the other's food, even giving star ratings and discussing what would’ve done it better, or how it was a perfect piece of culinary art. As much as your taste buds would’ve loved for you to devour the entire plate in one sitting, your aching stomach just wouldn’t allow it.

You peered over the middle of the table at Harry’s plate, which looked nearly identical to yours-clearly eaten through, yet paused because his stomach was saying enough is enough.

“Do we need to-go boxes?” the waiter said, slyly maneuvering the covered check onto the table in the middle of both of you.

“Yes, two please. Thank you”

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Harry’s ringed hand clutch the black checkbook in his hand, not even bothering to look at the receipt that he knew he would afford. He simply slid his card in the slot provided on the inside of the check booklet. It all happened so fast. Before you could even protest about the check, the waiter had dropped off two to-go boxes and picked up the checkbook. “Can I pay for half of it, please?” “No, but thanks for asking”, Harry replied sarcastically, making you roll your eyes with a small smile as he nonchalantly tucked his card back inside his wallet.

“You’re insufferable.” “Yet here you are having dinner with me. I can’t be all that bad.” You could tell Harry felt comfortable tonight. More comfortable than he had been at Nadia’s, but it would be pretty damn hard to be comfortable when an ex was attending the same party as you.

“I guess you’re fine.” “Fine in what way?” Harry teased, the tip of his tongue barely peeking from between his closed teeth.

“Dear god Harry”, you murmured with a tone of annoyance, when really, you felt happier than you had been in…you couldn’t even remember when.

Suddenly, a feeling of dread came over you as you delved deep in thought. The plans for the night were over, making your time with Harry coming closer to a close for the night-or so you thought.

”Do you happen to have time to get ice cream with an insufferable person?” Harry muttered, keeping his eyes fixated on his hand that was pinching the fabric tablecloth. He seemed nervous. It was cute.

Harry’s eyes moved as he saw you in his peripheral vision. Nonchalantly, you glanced at the imaginary watch fitted around your wrist. You winced, making Harry shake his head at your antics. The beloved antics he missed so fucking much.

“You’re in luck, I...”, your eyes met his as you trailed off. Harry could feel his heart start beating twice as fast. “-just barely can fit in ice cream with an insufferable person.”

You finished off the conversation with a teasing grin as you and Harry stood to your feet, gathered your personal belongings, and headed for the main entrance. 

The city was quiet tonight, minus the ever-present traffic that seemed to always be in surplus regardless of what hour of the day it was. But you didn’t mind, especially when you were in the company of the person who made you feel like a high schooler with the most massive crush.

“This way”, Harry mumbled as his body turned slightly in the direction of the ice cream parlor. 

The walk was decently quiet, yet comfortable. Harry took the lead on the route, seeing as you had no idea where this place was. His jacket was zipped up to the center of his chest-you admired how it fit his upper body perfectly as he slipped his hands-that were once tucked away in his pockets-down to his sides.

Unfortunately, this peaceful moment would hit a roadblock. All because of a single flash bulb lighting up the dark sky.

Harry’s eyes flickered around his surroundings in search of the utter piece of garbage that was most likely hiding in a bush with a camera strap around his neck and a lens that was nearly a foot long.

That very rubbish wasn’t hard to spot as he stood leaning against a light post, very obviously zooming his camera in on both of you.

”I’m sure everyone will love those”, you tried to lighten the mood, sensing Harry was feeling a light breeze of anger towards the pap.

At the sound of your voice, his attention drifted from the man with the camera and back to you as he slipped you a soft smile. His chest visibly sighed as he looked in your direction.

“I can see the headline now. Harry Styles back with his ex-girlfriend”, Harry voiced jokingly with dramatic hands that smoothed an invisible horizontal line out in front of him.

“Kinda’ has a nice ring to it, don't ‘cha think?” you said with an emboldened feeling in your chest, yet your eyes didn’t dare to look him in the eyes as you said it. A blanket of silence fell over both of you for a moment as Harry stood, mouth agape and eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. “Yeah, I guess it does”, he nibbled his lower lip the moment the words got out. Harry mimicked your eyes that stared straight ahead. Ever so often, both of your hands would brush along the other. Neither of you pulled your hands away; instead, either of your limbs remained at your side as both of you allowed your hands to continue brushing across the others with every stride your legs made.

The rest of the nighttime stroll was a quiet one. The only noise being cars honking at one another in the distance and the crunch of your and Harry’s shoes as they traveled on the sidewalk. Eventually, you and Harry ended up in the brightly painted parlor as you recited your favorite orders to the cheery employee who had to hide the starstruck gasp from falling out of her mouth at the sight of Harry. Soon, both of you were walking out of the front door that rang with a soft bell with two waffle cones in hand. Again, silence started at first, but this time, ice cream was a great and very valid excuse for the quiet between the two of you. The moan that slipped ever so faintly from your lips at the first lick of the ice cream went unnoticed by you. For Harry, his ears immediately perked up at the soft, breathy noise as it released from between your open mouth. In his peripheral vision, he watched the way your soft pink tongue licked a stripe of the creamy desert - a drip of your favorite flavor falling on your bottom lip as you practically made out with the thing. Harry was embarrassed at how much it got a rise out of him; he could already feel a bulge begin to grow in his pants as his mind sifted through memories where your lips and tongue had been doing similar actions, except not on a frozen food item.

“How’s yours? You’ve barely touched it.” Your voice forced Harry to gather himself as he turned his face towards and glanced at the cone in his hand that was beginning to melt and seep into the palm of his hand. Quickly, he brought the desert to his lips and nodded in pleasure, but really, he was just saving face. Not that the ice cream wasn’t good - in fact, it was Harry’s favorite - more so, he had to shove away the reason he hadn’t touched his ice cream. It wouldn’t be very gentleman-like for him to admit he was picturing your lips around his-

“This is so fucking good. Holy shit.” Again, Harry did damage control that he hoped you weren’t aware he had to do in the first place. “Always is”, he said with a playful arrogance as the two of you continued walking until eventually ending up at a nearby park. The street lamps were warm, soft bulbs that cast the perfect hue that wrapped around the trees and park benches. You stood silent and took it all in, all the while Harry was taking you in with eyes that begged to know more. More about the time both of you were a part. More about the fact that he missed you every god damn day, despite everyone telling him in time he’d get over it. He never, ever got over you. 

“Can I ask you something that’s a little bit vain?” Your eyes focused on Harry as you noted he stopped walking and was now standing in front of you with his feet firmly planted on the ground.

“Sure?” you phrased as a question; Harry noted your suspicion right away as his mouth created a low, hummed chuckle.

”Did you ever think about me? You know- after you left, did you ever wonder what I was up to?” You snickered, “You’re right, that is very vain.” Harry tilted his head to the side and bit down on his bottom lip to hide his embarrassed smile. Though his expression was innocent in nature, you felt it go straight to the place between your thighs. “So is that a yes?” he reiterated, this time his eyes moved to his shoes as they kicked at an invisible object. Anything to make it look as if he was pursuing something else entirely, instead of anxiously waiting for your answer. Your mind traveled in time, re-living how long it took for you to even allow your fingers to tap out his name on a keyboard, let alone see his face on a screen. But it was difficult to shut him out of your life completely - he was everywhere, and not just as in “everywhere” in the media, though that part was also very true.

Harry lingered on your comforter that he swore was the ugliest shade of mauve he’d ever seen, yet always managed to steal out of your grip when you both shared a bed in your apartment that you once cohabited in. His smell still clung to your favorite sweatshirt… that was technically his sweatshirt, but you practically adopted it with how often you reached for the fabric and draped it over your frame. You washed the thing countless times, dosing it in various scent boosters and laundry detergents, yet he never disappeared - no matter how much you desperately wanted him to. ”It took me a while-”, you started honestly, “-but eventually…yeah..I looked into what you were up to and who you were up to.”

“Ah, is this the part where you roast my taste in romantic partners?” You shrugged. “I’ll keep my thoughts to myself on that one”, you spoke with a tease dripping from your tongue. Harry’s shoulders bounced up and down as he chuckled softly. “So what did you find during your mild stalking?”

“Oh, you wish, don’t you?” you rolled your eyes, yet didn’t completely give him a yes or no answer.

After a moment of pause, you continued.

”It was mild most of the time…unless I was drunk, or if it was Valentine's Day. That’s when I said fuck it.” Your tone was casual and humored - you could’ve sworn it would do the trick in masking the real emotions you felt on those nights where you missed him and that type of love that both of you shared. Harry saw right through the cover as he nodded solemnly with a soft expression. “That’s understandable.” You felt a shift in tone - now something sad-something painful-wrapped itself around both of you as you continued strolling along the night-lit street. You did your best to alleviate the mood and shift it back into the gear of friendly conversation you were both in early tonight. ”I think the thing that made me the happiest is when I saw you being happy.” Harry couldn’t hide his rose colored cheeks even if he tried. A smile wore itself well on his pink lips as he watched you out of the corner of his eye. “The photos of you on tours and stages - you looked so happy and content. I could tell you were doing really well, and that made me happy to see you like that.”

Harry knew you meant nothing but good nature, but what you didn’t know is the people he buried himself into just to cover up how much his heart hurt from the absence of you. How he wrote song after song about you, hoping and fucking praying that he would finally get you out of his system, only for his once nearly empty cup to again feel as if it were on the edge of overflowing with thoughts of you. Yes, some of those smiles were real. It wasn’t as if he never had anything good happen to him since or that he hadn’t felt an ounce of joy since the night you left. But what the photos could never convey is the regret he lived with daily. Suddenly, Harry felt sadness take over his once smitten ego. A sense of frustration and anger all swirled into a blizzard that begged to snow him in and have him buried underneath it for years and years to come.

What was he doing? Why was he entertaining this and you-as if you were something he could simply just have back after a night of sorry’s spoken. You deserved more than that. You deserved the fucking world. “Everything okay?” you asked with worry on your face as you watched Harry rake his nails through the hair on top of his head absentmindedly. He sighed audibly as his feet suddenly stopped their subconscious pacing. He turned his back on you and dug his heels into the ground, hoping it would somehow provide him with some feeling of stability again. “Harry?” you questioned again, only to be met with his gritted voice. “I can’t believe I could be this stupid.” Your brow crinkled in confusion, “What? Why are you-You’re not stupid.” you stuttered, watching the way Harry was clearly beginning to spiral inside of these thoughts-a look you had come to know well. “Why are you here with me?” he said suddenly with a tone filled with sorrow, as opposed to anger. “Why did you agree to this when... after everything I’ve-”, Harry couldn’t even get the words out as his breath began to come out in pants. “Hey, hey. Look at me”, you pleaded as your hands reached out to hold either side of his face.. He almost gave in. He wanted to succumb to the warmth and comfort of you, but he didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve you. As Harry pulled away, your mouth fell along with gravity, in shock. You took a step back and examined your ex-boyfriend as he stood, clearly in a battle with whatever storm was forming in his thoughts. This felt personal-something so personal, you felt bad bearing witness to such a deeply intimate feeling of grief and frustration. “Do you want me to leave?” Your words made Harry’s panic suddenly stop, and his head turn in your direction. His eyes spoke volumes to you - they were reddened with tears that threatened to leak from his eyes, yet he didn’t quite dare to in front of you. Somehow, the green hue of his pupils still looked beautiful, even amongst the pain that was evident on his face. Harry’s eyes peered up towards the star-filled sky as he took a large breath in and out, before moving his sight back to you again. Cautiously, he walked closer until the tips of his shoes nearly kissed the tips of your own. He spoke with shakiness in his voice, “I don’t want you to leave.” His voice much softer and calmer than moments ago. “I just-I just want you to stop making me want you again when I can’t have you.” You could’ve sworn you heard Harry’s voice break towards the end, but he was quick to clear his throat and lower his head, making his expression hidden from your eyes. Over and over, you turned his last statement around and around in your brain-trying to see if you misheard or misread anything. “What did you say?” you said in disbelief. Surely you had to have heard him wrong. Yes, both of you had been, what some could possibly call “flirty” with one another. Yes, tonight you were on something that appeared to be a date with him. It wouldn’t be completely incorrect to say both of you were using tonight as a test run into the  ‘what if’, yet everything felt too good to be true. Things like this weren’t that easy to fix–were they? Your ex-boyfriend and you have a reunion, magically fall in love again, and live happily-ever-fucking-after. That’s how the fairytales say it always goes, but this wasn’t folklore. This was real, and it felt foolish to even imagine that something like that could happen. Yet, your mind couldn’t stop grasping onto the concept of all of this somehow going your way-just as the storybooks said it would. “Can you just-”, Harry began, but fought an inner battle within himself on whether he should say the question he desperately sought the answer to. At the same time, he feared the answer that you would give more than anything. That alone threatened him to keep his mouth shut for the rest of the evening, but he couldn’t keep it in any longer. 

“Tell me you don’t feel it too--just please--please tell me we’re never going to happen again so I can get the thought out of my head.” The seal had finally been punctured with a stab wound. The elephant in the room that you and Harry had both been conscious of, yet afraid to bring up until now, was free roaming. All you could do was stare at him and try to get a hold of the upward and downward movement of your chest that was quickening by the millisecond. “Maybe this whole thing was a bad idea.” Harry’s nostrils flared as his eyes looked at nothing in particular, as they blurred the world behind you together. “No”, your voice was coarse-so rough, it made Harry’s eyes widen as he re-focused on your stern face. “You don’t get to say how much you want me and then say this meeting up and getting dinner thing was a bad idea Harry. That’s not how this is going to go.” Harry was quick to jump in. “We’re over, so why does it matter to you any-” “If we’re really over, then why do you still look at me like that?” you interrupted, knocking the wind out of Harry’s chest, making his previous thoughts fall off the cliff's edge. With tears now streaming down your face, you continued. “Do you know how hard it is to keep my composure when you look at me like I’m the seventh wonder of the world? Do you, Harry? Because-let me tell you-it’s the hardest fucking thing I’ve ever had to do. This restraining myself from someone who clearly still loves me as much as I love them is so fucking hard, and I don’t want to do it anymore.”

As if on cue-triggered by a switch, the moment a wave of raw emotion and honesty swept over the night-a single rain drop tapped on your forehead as the last word lolled off your tongue. Then another, and another, until a steady stream of rain began growing until it reached pour down status. If this were any ordinary night, you would’ve cared about the rain touching your locks and creating a halo of frizz around the shape of your head, or your outfit getting dampened to the point where you knew you’d have to throw it in the wash as soon as you got home and found solace in a freshly clean pair of pajamas. But tonight wasn’t ordinary. It was anything but. And you weren’t sure how you felt about it. On one hand, there was some sort of closure happening here. Both of you now knew what the other was thinking and feeling during your time apart. You were no longer left to wonder if he gave you a speck of thought after you’d left, and Harry now knew you had been craving him just as much as he was craving your love that entire time. The hardest part was, what do you do after all of that is out in the open? There wasn’t a guide to this sort of thing. No college course or easy resolution. Probably a self-help book or two--but even then, yours and Harry’s situation was so uniquely both of yours, it was hard to know what the right move was from here. Or, if there even was a right move to begin with. You weren’t sure how long you’d both stood in front of each other in that dimly lit park that was now misted with rain, but one thing you were sure of was that you loved this man with all of your heart. Everything that happened in the past-it didn’t matter to you when you could so clearly see that he was a changed person who felt real remorse and recognized his wrongdoings. When you both first gave love a real shot, you were still fresh into adulthood with a far greater amount of childhood in either of you than the maturity that real-life, adult experiences naturally came with age. Harry knew he fucked up beyond belief. He recognised that he had a problem, and he worked to fix everything that he could when it came to his addiction. So why was it so hard to allow himself to fix what once bloomed between the two of you? And you. Why couldn’t you rationalize that he actually wanted you despite having an unlimited amount of resources when it came to wealth, material items, sex--basically anything he could ever want in life? Yet, here he was on a weekend evening with you, baring himself completely and feeling that shame that he couldn’t shed even with a lifetime worth of therapy. His biggest mistake was becoming the reason for your unhappiness. But how could he right that big of a wrong? Something he’d found himself repeating in his mind over and over as he got ready for tonight. The only true way to know was to give it his best shot. “Can I kiss you?” Harry’s words were sudden and whispered, like he was afraid the moment might shatter if he spoke them too loudly. Everything felt so vulnerable and sensitive, like a ticking time bomb that was teetering on the edge of explosion and annihilation. That’s what the potential of losing you felt like.  You stared at him, unreadable to Harry, yet you knew exactly what you felt. You were staring at someone who wasn’t just your person, but your favorite story that held a plot that you’ve been rereading since forever and still kept finding parts to fall in love with, even amongst the trauma and heartbreak.

He was a sacred book that you were daring to read through for the billionth time, except this time, you never wanted to put it down. Not now that you knew what life was like without him.

Your feet moved quickly–you weren’t sure if you walked, ran, or jogged– until your arms were wrapped around Harry’s neck and your lips were urgently pressed against his.

You know those moments that people talk about when it comes to a first kiss with someone? How does it feel like the world is stopping and your mind is completely empty except for the feelings of the present, and how this person is making you feel?

That’s what this felt like.

It wasn’t yours and Harry’s first kiss, of course, but, in a sense, it was. This kiss was coming from the same people, yet these two very people were different than who they were when they first kissed, fell in love, crashed, and ended.

Harry’s hands moved desperately as they clutched the fabric of the clothes that clung to your waist. He gripped you as if you were his life-saving measure–in some ways, that's exactly what you were for him.

Your lips parted briefly to take in air, and Harry instantly pulled your body closer to his and reconnected his mouth to yours. Your lips, still firmly locked with Harry’s, turned upwards into a smile.

The kiss naturally moved from its slow pace to something much less innocent, yet still held all of the real, raw emotions either of you felt over the years.

Harry deepened the kiss by parting his lips, instantly making you repeat his gesture and rub your tongue along his lower lip. He was quick to allow you access as his hand slid up into your hair.

This kiss was hungry with neither of you coming up for air, even when it meant you were gasping between moving your mouths together.

The one thing that got both of you to pull apart was a stranger yelling “Get a room!”, making you and Harry finally pull apart with panting breath and smiles on your faces.

You looked out into the darkness of the park with a brief moment of startle that quickly faded the moment your eyes returned to Harry, who was already staring down at you. You both stared at the other with chests heaving sporadically and smiles that spread wide along either of your faces.

“Well…that was nice.”

You giggled and nodded as your fingers began to run along the texture of Harry’s hair that lived at the back of his neck.

“It was. It definitely was.” You agreed with a nod and a shy smile. Only now had you come to the realization that it was still raining and you and Harry were properly drenched in the water from the sky, head to toe.

Harry took notice of the weather at the same time as you, his hands flattening his stomach as he felt the damp material that was beginning to contour against his muscles.

“I guess we should get out of the rain.”

You nodded in agreement as you let your hands fall from around Harry’s neck, instantly making him feel the coldness in your loss of contact. He missed you already.

“Yeah, I guess so”, you said quietly, already hating the thought of having to leave Harry after everything that had occurred tonight.

“Is it out of line to ask if you want to come back to mine? Only because I live walking distance, and you can throw your clothes in my dryer.”

Your eyes narrowed as a smile graced your lips.

“Oh yeah, of course. Just for the dryer and close proximity. Nothing else”, you humored him.

“Yeah yeah–exactly! Nothing more.” Harry played along with a cheeky smirk.

The walk to Harry’s place felt blissful.

You and he, hands intertwined, clothes soaked with the earth's tears, and a comfortable silence lingering between you both–everything felt as if it were, indeed, a fairy tale.

The moment Harry shut his front door behind him, after you walked through the threshold, you couldn’t help yourself. Your body crashed into his as your arms wrapped around his neck, just as they had nearly an hour ago when revelations became reality. With a thud, Harry’s back hit the door as your lips obsessively moved against his. And at this very moment, he felt totally and utterly consumed by you–every little piece. His touch was featherlight as his hands moved to your waist and pulled you closer until both of your hips gently collided.

Your hands moved to cup both sides of his face, deepening the kiss that was quickly turning from what was once sweet and innocent into something more erotic and sloppy.