#construction worker!harry

“Miss Bee! DJ took my crayon right out of my hand!” She turned from the table of four she was working with and glanced behind her to see DJ coloring and Janie pouting. She sighed.

“Janie, my love, there’s more crayons in the craft drawers,” she reminded her.

“But I was using that one!”

“I know, and DJ, you know better than to take something out of someone’s hand while they’re using it, please give it back,” she said knowingly. He frowned and dropped the crayon on the table. “Thank you,” she nodded appreciatively and turned back to her table.

“Miss Bee, I think DJ like-likes Janie,” Mae giggled.

“Ew,” Kaleb wrinkled his nose.

“It’s not polite to gossip, Mae,” she said knowingly. “Now can you guys tell me what’s wrong with this sentence?” She asked and held the whiteboard out. She watched the eight pairs of eyes scrutinize the marker.

The other students were at their stations learning and discovering. It was the last round of rotations. When the little bell chimed from the countdown on her SmartBoard they would head to the carpet for story time.

Her classroom was the stuff of dreams—or at the very least her dream. There were colorful posters around the room. Inspirational messages and words of kindness all about her space. The cubbies were filled with lunch boxes and snacks. Their little closet spaces hung their fall coats and backpacks. When they headed to lunch, she would sift through their take-home folders and make sure to gather notes and questions from parents and fill it with the weekly letter she sent to their family.

It was her fourth year of teaching kindergarten, and she loved it so much. The kids were so happy to see her each day, and it felt like she had a family of twenty. Each of her students was so sweet and lovely. This year she had really felt she had won the lottery with how good they were. Over the weekend she missed them. On holidays she was antsy about coming back to school and ask how they enjoyed their family time.

She was exhausted too, there was no doubt about that. Little ones were needy—over the smallest of things. Like the crayon stealing. Or the tummy aches. Sometimes the six-year-olds were just overtired or overstimulated and needed a hug.

But even her toughest kids loved her too. The parent night held just a couple weeks into the school year told her that. “He has never been excited for daycare or for school, but he is so excited for this year of kindergarten.”

The timer sounded off and like little, adorable robots her sweet students picked up their stations and settled all the items they were using back into place. She thanked her current group, and she marked where the current four were so she could pick up where they left off on Monday.

The group of students hurried to the carpet, sitting cross legged on the colorful squares. “All my friends love to sit quietly on a primary color while we wait for story time!” She had a lilt in her voice that wasn’t quite singing, but perhaps close to it. She watched as the students giggled helping each other remember what a primary color was as they all shifted around the rectangle looking for a spot. What they didn’t know is it helped spread them out a bit and would help them keep their hands to themselves while they waited much more patiently than any six-year-old had a right to.

“All my friends love to be super quiet,” she whispered putting her fingers to her lips. “We have to pick our friend who will lead us through the opener for the day,” she reminded them.

They all put their fingers on their lips; their eyes hopeful of being chosen. She pulled a popsicle stick from a cup and pulled out the name. “Milo,” she grinned. “Would you like to lead us today?” She always gave them a choice. Sometimes the little ones were much too shy.

He grinned shyly. “Okay, Miss Bee.”

She sat on her chair; a rocking one she thrifted from a local shop. A lot of her classroom was that way. A teacher on a budget. Organizing drawers and old bins that were a little worn and loved. Bookshelves that had been found at garage sales and even her office chair wasn’t brand new.

But she loved it and her students loved it too.

She watched Milo walk up to the board where she had everything spelled out for him and she waited patiently for him to read. “Today is Friday, October 5th,” he said softly. “We have art at specials time today,” his voice got quieter with his nerves of speaking in front of his whole class. A small snicker started and she turned to the culprit narrowing her eyes at him not harshly, but enough to make him know she meant business. The little one silenced himself and she returned her attention to Milo.

“Isn’t Milo doing a great job?” She whispered to the little one beside her.

Milo pushed his shoulders back a little and continued. “Today we’re going to start Char-lotties Web.”

“Good job sounding that out Milo!” She cheered. “It’s a tough name. It’s called Charlotte’s Web. Can everyone say that?”

She waited while everyone repeated, and Milo continued.

“It’s the thirty-seventh day of school.”

She watched all the little ones with rapt attention on their classmate while he read through the daily schedule. This was his second go around and by the end of the year she anticipated he would do it with ease and no anxiety. He was adorable, just like the rest of her group.

“Before we have our little math lesson we’re going to read the first chapter of Charolotte’s Web. Based on the title and the picture on the front does anyone have any guesses about what the story is about?”

A fleet of hands shot into their air and she smiled. She was a lucky teacher. “Hadley, do you have an idea?” She asked.

“A spider,” she wrinkled her nose.

“I know,” she agreed dramatically. “We all know how much Miss Bee hates spiders.” The class giggled as she pulled the book from the shelf. “Can anyone tell me who the author is?” She asked holding the book out for everyone to see clearly. “Raise your hand!” She added as they all opened their mouths to say it.

The little hands fluttered into the air again and right as she spoke Amara’s name, a loud bang sounded from outside. The little ones screamed; their eyes filled with horror as they were clearly terrified by the loud noise. It even spooked her so she went to investigate.

“Shh, shh,” she whispered. “It’s okay,” she placed the book on her chair and headed toward the window. Instantly her eyes were drawn to the construction crew next door dropping piles of wood and building materials. Fuck, she mouthed to herself and if the kids weren’t so freaked out, they might have noticed her saying the bad word in the reflection of the glass. “Don’t worry everyone, it’s just the construction workers.”

“Construction paper isn’t that loud Miss Bee,” Mae frowned. “It sounded like an elephant fell down!”

The rest of the class giggled, and she smiled. “I suppose it did,” she hummed. The noise continued. The sound of trucks backing up and the like. It was going to be a long few months of work and trying to teach at the same time. “Construction workers, my love, not paper,” she corrected. “It’s people who make buildings and things.”

They chatted behind her to one another offering instances in which they had seen construction done in their neighborhoods or that their uncle was a construction worker. Or that even they had helped their mom and dad with some work around the house.

For a few moments she considered her next plan of action. She briefly turned to the schedule Milo was reading. A quick detour and impromptu lesson on future career options, math in motion, and communication skills, could be managed and even helpful if it meant she could convince her class there wasn’t anything to be scared of nor would they need to find the noise distracting if they knew what it was and could work on tuning it out.

“Alright guys and gals, why don’t we put on our coats and see what our neighbors are up to?” she said with the air of going on an adventure while she grabbed her own coat from the small thin closet behind her desk. It housed her school bag, her coat, and her lunch bag.

The kids all hustled excitedly to put on their coats while she called the main office to let them know she would be outside with her class, and she was bringing the walkie talkie in case of an emergency. Tyler was line leader, so he led the group behind her, and her line ender was Zara making sure the back half of the group was okay too. They walked in a straight line and followed one another at about an arm’s length. A trick she learned in student-teaching so her students wouldn’t want to touch one another with excitement.

They headed outside and they played a couple rounds of eye spy as they made their way up the path toward the parking lot. She turned around, walking backwards grateful of her early morning outfit choice today was pants with comfy shoes and not a dress and her favorite wedge booties. “All my friends love to be really careful near the parking lot, and listen to Miss Bee so no one gets hurt,” she reminded them. “All of my friends know they have to listen to Miss Bee or they will not have show and tell this week.”

They all zipped their lips and threw away the key as they walked toward the fence where the playground’s baseball field turned into the driveway next door where the construction was beginning. The little ones all oohed and ahhed over the big trucks and pressed their faces against the chain link fence as the materials were brought into the area.

“Wow, that’s the biggest truck I’ve ever sawed,” Brayden whispered.

“Ever seen, my love,” she corrected gently. “Okay, who can tell me one thing they’ve never seen before and have a question about?”

Immediately hands flew up into the air but before she could call on anyone, they were interrupted.

“They told me we were going t’have a young crew for this job, didn’t think everyone would be this young.”

She turned her attention to the man approaching the fence and she felt her heart flutter like a hummingbird against her chest. The man was tall, sinewy from being part of a construction crew and doing all the manual labor, she was sure. He wore a T-shirt with the company’s logo across the front Under Construction that stretched perfectly over muscular pectorals. A white hard hat was on top of his head but she could see swirls of brown hair peeking out from underneath. There were the standard work boots and pants of a construction worker on his lower half but that was all she really noted of his body.

It was his face that drew her in. His eyes, his smile, even his eyebrows seemed to catch her interest. His face had the slightest scruff on his cheeks and over his top lip. He was deadly handsome and she momentarily forgot she and her little ones were the only thing there. “We’re not here to work,” Mae giggled.

She shook her head and smiled. “No, sorry we can’t be part of the crew,” she said apologetically.

“We were going to do math, but Miss Bee wanted to show us the scary noises,” Milo explained bravely.

“Ah,” he caught her eye. Did his smile grow? She must have imagined it. Was it hot out? It was early October, and the nice fall breeze was blowing a chill in the air, and she felt like she was about to sweat through her clothes and wish she hadn’t worn her jacket. Holy shit, he was hot. “Are you Miss Bee then?”

“It’s actually Miss Bird,” Kai explained. “But Miss Bee is a nickname.”

“Bird,” he repeated. “Nice to meet you, Miss Bird,” he held his hand out. “I’m Harry, Harry Styles.”

“Harry,” she answered. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Styles.”

He smirked at the formality but held her hand an extra second longer before letting go. Surely, she imagined that.

Harry saw the gaggle of children and the woman alongside them about five minutes prior as they approached the fence between the playground and the building site. “We got company boss,” Niall smiled while he moved some of the materials across the site with the help of his forklift. Harry turned toward the group and was in awe of the woman that could wrangle a group of little ones like that so effortlessly. As he got closer he became a little more entranced by her. She was all bright colors, her pants were firetruck red, and her jacket was a bright pink. She had an off-white bandanna or wrap in her hair of some kind that came to a knot at the top of her head from underneath her hair. She was beautiful. Obviously. Harry thought she was lucky she didn’t teach older kids because they would probably get nothing done staring at the pretty woman for hours on end. She looked so young too—no way older kids would take her seriously. But the little ones seemed to adore her, waiting patiently while they looked on with fascination.

She held a walkie-talkie in her left hand while she shook Harry’s hand during introductions.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off her smile and the way she looked fondly at her students while he introduced himself.

“We didn’t mean t’scare you all. We’re putting in a new fire and police station here t’keep you safe,” he explained to the little ones. “The noises y’heard were us putting the materials down.”

They all watched expectantly, waiting for him to continue. “Could they ask a question?” She smiled sweetly at him. “They’re waiting for you to say they can ask questions; it’s kind of a thing in the classroom,” she wrinkled her nose so cutely as she explained.

“Oh—right, yeah,” he chuckled. Harry wasn’t totally sure how a group of six-year-olds could have questions about what very little they had seen thus far, but he couldn’t wait to hear it. “Of course...do y’have questions?” Harry felt a little silly not seeing what inquisitive little minds she was molding behind the fence barrier.

However, all twenty hands shot into the air. She giggled and shook her head. “We aren’t getting to all the questions,” she laughed. “Mae, you can start,” she said.

One of the girls in the middle turned to Harry. “Why’s your hat white?”

“It means I’m in charge of everyone over there,” he explained. “It’s called being a foreman.”

“So, you’re like Miss Bee, she’s in charge of us,” Mae reminded him.

“Yes, just like Miss Bee,” he agreed catching her eye. She bit the inside of her lip and glanced at her line of students.

“Milo, do you have a question to ask?”

The boy toward the end of the line looked shyly at Harry and he grinned before looking at his feet. He mumbled something toward the ground and Harry took a few steps closer, bending in front of the fence. “Can y’repeat that for me, lad? I didn’t catch it.”

“How do you know where to put stuff?” He asked.

“We have maps and outlines of where stuff is going to go,” Harry grinned.

“It’s kind of like the maps we made of towns, remember?” She prompted. “Where we would put the school, the houses—”

“The ice cream shop!” Someone else called out from the other end of the line. The rest giggled and she nodded with her beautiful, ever-present smile.

“Yes, the important things if you recall,” she glanced at Harry apologetically. “One more question, then we have to head back inside for snack time.”

“But Miss Bee! I have a lot of questions!” DJ pouted.

“Me too!”

“I do too!”

The chatter started to become a little loud and overwhelming as they reminded her that they had many questions for Harry and he smirked at her as she shook her head. “All my friends love to turn on their listening ears and turn off their voices,” she practically sang. Instantly, they were soundless.

“Wow,” Harry murmured. “I should try that on my crew.”

They all giggled, and she smiled at him apologetically once more. “Zara, do you want to ask your question?” She asked.

“How do you know what tool to use?”

“It depends on what y’have t’do, but I had t’learn which tool t’use by going t’school,” he explained.

“You went to school too!?”

“That was another question!”

“It doesn’t count!”

“Miss Bee!”

“Hey, hey, hey! Hocus pocus,” she called gently.

“Time to focus!” They all silenced themselves.

“Wow,” Harry was in awe of her. That was almost superhero powered in nature.

“Mr. Harry, could we write our questions down to have you answer?” Tyler asked.

“That’s a great idea Tyler, but Mr. Styles has to—”

“I would love t’do that,” he offered immediately and caught her eye. “This project is going t’be a while,” he explained.

“Mr. Harry,” Janie asked pulling on his pant leg through the fence. “Could you fix Miss Bee’s desk? It’s all crooked,” she explained.

“Janie, my love,” she said softly, her cheeks turning the same shade of pink as her jacket. She was adorable and Harry was putty already. “That’s not very polite to ask. Mr. Styles is working,” she explained. “It would be like asking you to do your adding while you’re doing your sentences.”

Harry grinned almost apologetically as he caught her eye once more. “I could take a look at it,” he offered. “When does school get out?”

“Oh, that’s okay—”

“We line up for the bus at three-fifteen. That’s when the clock looks like this,” and they all turned to put their hands together to the left of their bodies, surely to mimic the hands of the clock where indeed, it would look like three-fifteen.

Harry grinned. She was a cool teacher to teach all these inquisitive little minds. “All my friends love to thank Mr. Styles for taking time out of his day to teach us about construction work,” she said knowingly and looked at him once more.

“Thank you, Mr. Harry,” they all sang.

“I said Mr. Styles.”

“But Mr. Harry is like a nickname, like you Miss Bee.”

She rolled her eyes. “Alright, Tyler, are you ready to lead?” She asked and waved to Harry.

As the line departed, he watched until he couldn’t see the pretty woman or the cute little ones any longer before he turned back to his job site. Niall rolled over on his forklift once more and popped out of the seat to stand beside him. “How was kindergarten?” He asked.

“They’re funny,” he smirked. “And very cute.”

“The kids or the teacher?”

“Both,” he shook his head, smiling to himself. “Get back t’work,” he mumbled and headed toward the other workers.

*

Harry watched the little ones boarding their buses and their teachers wave from below the overhang of the drop-off port as the kids left for the weekend. He could see the bright red pants and pink jacket from where he stood by the fence once more and a few students called out to him. “Bye Mr. Harry!”

She turned instantly and found him there. Harry’s crew was also leaving (trying to beat the buses before they got stuck behind) but Harry was without his hat now, waiting by the fence. He waved to the little ones, feeling a bit like a superstar with all the eyes that looked over at him. But he swore he could feel the pretty woman’s eyes boring into him more than the others.

He hopped over the fence now that the children were on the buses and parents had their children in cars. “Hi,” he smiled as he approached her. Her pretty lips parted ever so slightly in surprise. Her eyes scanned his face for recognition as to why he would be approaching her after the kids had left. “M’here t’look at your desk,” he explained.

“Oh!” She shook her head. “That’s okay. It’s Friday. I’m sure you have better plans than—”

“I don’t mind,” he offered with a shrug.

“Um...” she swallowed. “It’s really alright, I don’t want to put you out—”

“S’very okay, Miss Bird,” he teased. “M’happy to take a look.”

She nodded. “Okay, well...we just have to get you signed in at the office.”

“Sure,” he smiled.

“Do you have your license?” She asked.

He nodded and followed after her. They stopped at the front of the office, one of the older women greeting and going through the spiel of being a visitor. “Will you be here often?” She asked. “We could do a background check to make things simpler.”

“Oh, he’s just working nex—”

“That would be great, thank you, ma’am.”

She pressed her lips together, but Harry swore he could see the corners of her mouth twitching upward. Harry quickly filled out the information on the form and once he had a visitor tag on the front of his shirt, he followed her down the hall. The school was definitely older. It was part of the reason the safety buildings were getting an upgrade. The whole town was a bit older. They were silent as she led down the hall, her arms crossed over her stomach, he followed her down a stairwell and they stopped as a custodian greeted her.

“Hi Miss Bee, staying late today?” He asked.

She nodded. “Yeah, I think so. I’ll keep my mess to a minimum,” she promised.

“Not a problem Miss Bee,” he was a bit older too. Clearly, he was used to seeing her around after hours. Late? How late did she stay? It was Friday. Didn’t teachers race to get out of the building on Fridays?

“I like to set up my classroom for next week,” she explained. “It’s a little easier to have everything planned out.”

“Well, I won’t keep you,” he promised.

“You really didn’t have to do this,” her cheeks flushing pink once more. “I’m a little embarrassed,” she explained unlocking her classroom door.

“S’nothing t’be embarrassed ‘bout. M’happy t’take a look.”

“I guess...but they shouldn’t have said anything. Six-year-olds. You can’t tell them anything.”

He chuckled. “S’fine,” putting his hands in his pockets as she pushed the door open. It felt like being transported into another world. A bright, colorful, sunny world. There were windows overlooking the yard separating the building and a soccer field. There were string lights around the top of the wall, along with floor lamps placed around the room as well. There was almost a separate room for her colorful carpet where an old rocking chair was situated in front of the whiteboard. On the other side of the room were her play items for the kids as well as tables and little chairs for her kids. There was artwork and displays of all her students’ work around every free space of the walls. All organized and stapled properly at regular spaced intervals.

Harry would have loved being her student, he thought, but he was glad he could get to know the pretty lady as she was right now.

At the back of the class near another door, there was her desk. Underneath one of the legs was a stack of old books. Harry frowned. It was very crooked.

“It’s really not as bad as it looks. I like to believe I’m pretty resourceful so that was one of the easier fixes of the classroom.”

He sucked his cheek a bit and nodded. “Is there anything else you’d like me t’look at?”

She shook her head. “No, really. It’s okay, this is too much as is,” she said hurriedly. It was hardly anything. “You’ve had a really long day.”

But as if her classroom knew that Harry was there, the wooden sign above the door they just walked through fell off the wall. He smirked while her cheeks turned another shade redder and she winced practically with her whole body. “M’happy t’look around,” he offered. “You’re here late?” He asked and knelt beside her desk inspecting it. It was old. A fairly solid wooden structure but Harry could see it was made mostly of cheap particle board. There was no way that this was up to the fire code instructed by the public buildings in town.

“Uhh...yeah. I have to make copies and cut some stuff out for my new bulletin board,” she explained. “I also like to do a little extra cleaning on Fridays. The custodians have a lot to do so I try to do my fair share,” she went to the little closet behind her desk built into the wall. The door stuck a bit as she pulled it open and she hung her pink jacket up and pulled out a broom and disinfectant wipes.

Harry nodded. “I’d be happy t’help.”

“Oh, that’s completely unnecessary,” she assured him. “I can’t imagine you really want to be here after a long day of manual labor on a Friday no less and—”

“Miss Bird, I would imagine s’not nearly as draining as trying t’wrangle and keep the attention of twenty-something six-year-olds, for six hours a day,” he interrupted and looked at her knowingly. “M’happy t’help.”

She watched Harry for a few moments surprised by how kind he was to a complete stranger. “Could I take these drawers out?” He asked.

“Um...” she swallowed. “If you can open them.”

He tilted his head at her with a smirk. “Is there a point t’having this desk?”

“I found it at a yard sale. It’s kind of my thing,” she explained. “Most of the shelves, chairs, et cetera are from yard sales. I’m a teacher on a budget kind of thing. They just need some TLC. I say I’m going to do it over the summer, but I tutor a bunch, babysit, and whatnot so I haven’t had the time. This is my fourth year of teaching so I’m hoping this summer will be different now that I won’t be preparing lessons much now that I know what I’m doing for the most part.”

Harry watched her as she spoke, a gentle smile on his face. God, she was cute. Without her coat, she was wearing a blue almost denim looking shirt and she looked so adorable he wanted to pick her up and twirl her around like she was a princess. “I think you’re a superhero,” he told her.

Her face flushed once more and she turned to the tables lower than any normal table Harry had ever sat at (especially for his tall frame) and she knelt to wipe the surfaces. Harry turned to the desk letting her settle with the compliment he offered. He tugged the drawers out, with effort. A piece of particle board splintered a bit but given the drawer was empty, he didn’t think she would mind much. But Harry would rather build her a new desk altogether. “I don’t sit much,” she added.

“Mm,” he hummed. “Shouldn’t take an act of God t’get a drawer open.”

He lifted the desk off the books once the weight of the drawers was out of the way. He carefully moved her piles of items and organizers onto the floor taking mental pictures of her setup. There was a framed photo of her and a man and his heart almost gave out at the thought that the pretty girl was taken. He glanced at her wiping the desks, her left hand bare of any rings. It didn’t necessarily mean anything, but there was no way he could ask if she was taken. He gently placed her laptop on the back counter behind him and then tilted the desk onto it’s side.

The weight of her gaze was prominent on his face, but he ignored it, focusing on her desk and hoping to make her life a little better. “S’this little screw for the leg.”

“Yeah, I figured. It was too stuck for me. I tried using some WD-40 but I didn’t get much luck.”

He pictured the pretty girl in her bright red pants trying to get her desk to unstick. Resourceful she was. “I think I have some in m’car, I’ll go pop out.”

“Let me prop this door open,” she offered and went to the classroom door labeled with a giant two. Just follow that path up,” she pointed. Harry hurried out waiting until he was out of her sightline to all but run to his car and back. He returned with a selection of random tools he grabbed and walked back to her classroom.

“—shouldn’t stay late on a Friday,” he hated how jealous he was of a man’s voice. “Come out with El and I,” the voice offered.

“Louis, I’m exhausted. I will come over tomorrow. I can’t even imagine talking to the two of you right now and I love you guys.”

“I know,” the voice sighed. “Do you need help?”

“No, I’m good.”

“Course not.”

“Shut up,” she rolled her eyes.

“That isn’t very kind of you Miss Kindergarten,” the voice answered with attitude.

Harry cleared his throat as he returned. “I gotta go, Louis. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Don’t stay too late, Miss Bee,” he sang.

She continued sweeping and glanced at Harry’s tools. “You really don’t have to do this,” she reminded him.

“Happy t’help,” he assured her. She seemed pretty adamant though. He wondered why she felt so uncomfortable asking for help. His eyes dropped to her left hand once more looking for a tan line or any indication she was taken. “M’a big fan of teachers,” he promised. “Had some really good ones,” he explained.

She took a deep breath and nodded. “If you’re sure. I don’t want to be a bother.”

Harry wondered who on earth made this saint of a woman feel like a burden. Her desk was old and rickety. It was hardly rocket science to fix it and it wasn’t even that heavy. The drawers stuck, which Harry would tackle next, but otherwise what was so difficult? He sprayed the screw at the foot of her desk and gave it a spin, but it didn’t work. He pulled a wrench from his toolbox and tried to get better leverage. “There we go,” he mumbled to himself as the screw unstuck. He untwisted it all the way and sprayed both the screw and the hole. He twisted the metal piece back in and smiled feeling glad he made her life a little easier. He stood, tipped the desk back to it’s rightful position. He put weight with his hands to ensure all the legs were the same length and he wiped his hands on his pants.

“There’s a bathroom through that door—everything is low because of the kids though,” she pointed toward the one right near him.

“Thanks bird,” he smiled and headed through it. Whoops, he thought to himself.

He rinsed his hands with soap quickly admiring the bright, neon green paper that said you should sing Happy Birthday to yourself twice to get the germs off while washing your hands. He imagined she heard happy birthday all day long and found that adorable.

When he reentered her room, she was already putting things back, including trying to get the sticky drawer back into position. “Oh, I can do that, love. Don’t hurt yourself,” he hurried over and grabbed the drawer from her grip.

“Thank you so much for doing this, this is so lovely,” she frowned. “Can I pay you or something?”

“Absolutely not,” he chuckled. “S’hardly anything, bird,” he assured her and jimmied the drawer back into position. “Y’can keep doing your thing. I’ll put everything back.”

She bit the inside of her lip. “Thank you,” she repeated.

“You’re welcome, seriously. S’hardly nothing.”

“No but it is,” she assured him. “I don’t mean to dump this all on you but my ex-boyfriend made it very clear that I put too much effort into my job and that all the extra time I didn’t get paid for didn’t mean anything because caring so much didn’t get me anything more. But I love this room and all it’s little quirks but this means the world to me, honestly. I want one of those Pinterest perfect classrooms in some ways, but I don’t think I’ll ever get it because this school is old and I don’t have the money, time, or energy I’d like to fix a lot of the things I probably need to. I don’t think I’m explaining it quite right and I’m sorry I just dumped all that on you, but I don’t think anyone has ever done anything this kind for me.”

Harry felt bad that his assumptions were correct, but he loved the way she let all of that out. He listened to every word with bated breath grateful for the word ex. It didn’t mean she didn’t have a current boyfriend, but it put into perspective why she was so overwhelmed by Harry’s little help. “Well, Miss Bee, m’at your service,” he assured her.

--

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Construction in January was brutal. Harry was cold. Tired. Hungry.

And most importantly, he missed his favorite teacher.

Harry turned his car off and rolled his neck back and forth before he got out to head inside. He could see the light coming from the living room. It was already so dark outside. The light looked almost like a beacon of warmth. In the winter months, Harry often worked later in the day; it was easier to work with the most daylight and in the warmth (especially on behalf of his crew). He missed his job next door to the elementary school. Seeing the kids (and Miss Bee) at recess always brightened his day. He also missed going to her classroom after school and cutting up paper and laminating for the next day.

But mostly, he just missed her.

“Hi Harry!” She called cheerfully as he opened the door. The light in the living room had nothing on her voice, she was so warm. Whatever she was cooking smelled delicious, and he was overcome with how lucky he was to have her. Even when he was exhausted and tired, she made everything so much better. She was magic.

Her voice was echo-y. Harry didn’t know why. He kicked his shoes off, stepped into the half-bathroom right by the entryway. He washed his hands in warm water and thought about how nice a hot shower would feel after dinner. Maybe he could convince her to join him.

“Hi Miss Bee, did y’have a good day?” He asked over the sound of the faucet. The kids had a half-day today, so she was able to get a lot done at school and come home on time. Harry dried his hands, turned the corner to find her half under the kitchen sink beneath the cabinet. He stopped suddenly, staring at her legs in her lounge-around-the-house outfit, one fuzzy sock was sliding off her foot, and he desperately wanted to slide it back up her ankle. Her lower back rested on the ledge of the cabinet, but she must have found that quite uncomfortable since there was another towel cushioning her position. “What are y’doing?”

Her phone was open to a video. There was a selection of her pink tools from school around her. More towels, small puddles of water. All the cleaning supplies they stored beneath the sink were neatly lined up against the bottom of the oven.

“I’m almost done.”

Harry thought his heart would shatter his ribcage if it beat any harder or faster because in a matter of seconds, he knew exactly what she was doing. He was floored, overwhelmed, and he loved her so much it was almost difficult to stand and breathe. “Done with what, kitten?” he asked softly.

“Well,” she clinked something beneath the sink. Her voice was still echo-y. “I figured if I’m the reason the drain was clogged—”

“You’re not the reason, bird.”

“Of course I’m the reason Harry. I had a literal hole in my ceiling, and you had to insulate my bedroom. And let’s not forget the broken window, the leaky shower, or the hot water heater. I am a curse for homeownership.”

“Those weren’t—”

“Anyway, I know how exhausted you’ve been and it’s cold and whatnot, so I figured the last thing you’d want to do is try and fix something when you get home. I had some time today. Yeah, it probably took me five times longer than it would have taken you, but now you don’t have to do it, right? So that’s good. You should probably double-check my work, but the water is still off so you don’t even have to do it right now if you don’t want to. Honestly, it’s a little embarrassing how long it took me to find the little shut off valve,” she stated. “But I think I unclogged it! How cool is that? It was super gross, but I had to clean this little trap thing which was really the worst part—and you know how I am about cleaning, so I really made sure there wasn’t anything left when—”

Harry crouched down, grabbed her ankles and pulled her until the upper half of her body was out from under the sink.

“Hey!” Her cute eyebrows bunched together, little bits of her hair that had fallen from the bun at the top of her head and fell in front of her pretty eyes. She dropped the tools she was holding; she was wearing a pair of disposable gloves—she probably bought two boxes. One for school so she could clean and hopefully not get sick with all the kindergarten germs. She used them at home for when she made chicken for dinner and apparently to unclog the kitchen sink.

Without missing a beat Harry knelt over her, his knees straddling her hips and he leaned down and kissed her. He cupped her face, his fingers sliding into her hair around her ears. He pulled her to sit until he knelt back onto his heels. “Well, hi,” she giggled when he pulled away.

“Y’didn’t need t’do this,” he stated softly and stroked her face with the back of his fingers. “I would have done it.”

“I know, but I like to help.”

“Oh, I know, Bird,” he rolled his eyes. “I thought we agreed that—”

“I just wanted to make your life easier for today. You seemed so frustrated when you left and I didn’t think it would be that hard,” she promised. “It seemed like something I should know how to do,” she shrugged.

Harry kissed her again. “You’re so lovely,” he mumbled and moved so he wasn’t straddling her anymore. He continued kissing her and pulled her toward him, so they were both standing. His hands slid down to her waist, and he circled his thumbs on her hips for a moment before they went lower, brushing the outside of her thighs until he caught the back of her legs just above her knees.

Harry held her up for only a second before he placed her on his kitchen island. He pulled her sweatpants off her legs before she could blink.

“Harry—” she gasped, her cheeks turning red. At some point in that fall, she told Harry she was thinking of donating those red pants she wore the day he met her. He insisted she didn’t. Or offered to replace them. But at the very least, at least he knew she would always blush the same color.

“Do y’know how hot y’look?” He murmured spreading her thighs apart, gripping them tightly so his thumbs dug into her skin. He dipped his head and kissed the inner part of her thighs, making her gasp again. “Fixing something t’make m’life easier?”

“I-I… n-no. I don’t—”

Harry tugged her butt toward the edge of counter. He pulled her legs around his hips and leaned in to kiss her again, her head falling back against the counter as he kissed her. “You’re m’favorite thing in the world,” he murmured against her mouth. “Y’have no idea how special you are.”

Her breathing felt erratic, as did her heartrate, Harry kissed her again, a little rougher than normal, his teeth scraping against her lip. The scruff of his incoming beard scraped against her skin. He felt like he was everywhere. His body was warm despite being out in the cold. God, he was hot. “Harry, I made—”

“It can wait,” he mumbled against her lips. “I don’t know how t’thank you most of the time. For being so special. For making m’life so whole,” he kissed down her throat, across her collarbone even though there was a T-shirt that said Under Construction in his way of touching her skin. “Take your gloves off,” he ordered. He heard the snap of the nylon material and the small flop of them hitting the floor behind him. “M’so completely in love with you. And I keep falling in love with you. S’a bit crazy. How d’you do that?”

“Harry,” she whispered as his lips came back to her mouth. “I—”

“Jus’ let me take care of you,” he begged and kissed over the T-shirt. His head stopped between her thighs and he put his hands against the back of her knees and held her so she was almost totally exposed and open to him. His warm gaze against the center of her, where her underwear was keeping the last bit of her from him.

“It really wasn’t a big deal. I wish I could do more—”

He shook his head, dropped one of her legs and pulled the fabric out of the way. Harry’s eyes ran over her; his gaze was so hot it felt like she was being set on fire. “Y’don’t have t’do anything,” he murmured, his lips dropping to her inner thigh. “Y’do so much. All the time.”

It was no big deal though. She didn’t mind helping Harry out. It was the least she could do, truly. He did so much for the house. And her house; especially with a tenant, she had to make sure it was livable. “But not for you—”

“Bird, shut up,” he grumbled and then wrapped his mouth around her pussy.

She arched instantly, Harry’s hands slid down the back of her legs to cradle beneath her butt, and he practically nuzzled further into the apex of her thighs. “Harry!” she gasped. This was the kitchen counter, and they had friends and family over constantly who would eat food off it.

And she was going to come all over his face because of his tongue right on top of the granite. He groaned, long and low while never pausing the rhythm of his tongue on her folds. He dipped his tongue into her as much as he could but knew the best and easiest way to make her come was to keep flicking and massaging his tongue over her swollen, pretty clit.

“Y’taste so good, kitten,” he murmured as he pulled back long enough to take a deep breath. He didn’t need to breathe; he had plenty of air and her natural scent seemed like pure oxygen. “Don’t even need dinner,” he mumbled.

“Harry,” she whined.

His lips sucked her clit again and his tongue slid across her sensitive skin. He forgot about how cold January was, or why he was tired moments ago. He definitely wasn’t hungry anymore. And of course he didn’t have to miss her any longer. He wanted to stay with his mouth on her pretty pussy for the rest of his life. She didn’t need to work. Neither did he. They could just spend forever with his mouth between her legs, his tongue dipping inside her, and lapping at her clit until she—

“Fuck,” she croaked, sliding her fingers into his hair and pulled him closer to her while she shook with pleasure. Harry groaned and continued sucking and licking her up until she slumped against the hard counter. While she tried to catch her breath, Harry continued licking her making sure to get every last drop of her on his tongue. Once satisfied with his work, he pressed a bunch of kisses on both sides of her thighs.

“Y’shouldn’t swear like that Miss Bee,” he teased. “S’not very kindergarten-y of you,” he winked.

She rolled her eyes and slumped backward again. “You’re insane.”

“’Bout you, Bird,” he smiled and slid his pants down his legs.

“Harry, we put food on this counter…” her cheeks were the same pretty red he loved so much. But she couldn’t take her eyes off his movements. Harry had long, lean, sinewy legs that made her practically shy to look at him.

He shrugged, pulled his shirt over his head and yanked her toward him and his warm muscular body to seal his lips over his mouth again. The shyness she felt of ogling his very pretty body continued. He was so lovely, and she felt like she didn’t deserve to look at him. “Can’t be germier than a kindergarten classroom during flu season,” he murmured. She snorted while kissing him. He smiled against her mouth. “Let me make you feel good, Bird.”

“You just did.”

“Mm, I did, didn’t I?” He grinned devilishly. He knew exactly what he was doing and she couldn’t blame him.

“Harry, what about dinner—”

He turned to the stove and turned it off. “C’mon, kitten. Can’t y’help me with this,” he murmured grabbing the base of his cock and pressing it, and rubbing against her clit, freshly licked and swollen from coming so hard against his tongue. “If y’don’t want to—” He started and pulled back slightly.

“No, no!” She hurried and reached between them to grab at him making him moan. She pressed the head of his dick back to her wet center. “I just thought you might be hungry or—”

“I was, but I didn’t know m’pretty bird was going t’surprise me,” he pressed his face into her neck. “Y’looked so hot fixing the sink for me. I didn’t know I could get so turned on by that. I couldn’t take it another second.”

“That’s why you dragged me out from the cabinet?”

“Kitten, you’re wearing m’shirt,” he reminded her, slipping his fingers beneath the hem and scraping his fingertips against her stomach; it felt so good she thought she would explode. “I didn’t have a choice,” he kissed along the curve of her neck. “Please,” he begged. “Please, please, please,” his voice was so low and gravelly as she continued sliding his cock between her folds.

She couldn’t let him beg. Not really. He made her come in minutes with his tongue. He deserved and orgasm that was half as good as she felt. She guided him lower and gasped as he sank into her. He groaned. “Perfect,” he buried his face into her neck. “God,” he moaned. He grabbed the outside of her hips and pulled her toward him, thrusting hard into her. She whimpered.

She wrapped her arms around his back and gasped with each deep stroke of his hips. She barely felt any pressure from the counter he was holding her so tight. “I love you so much,” he kissed and licked down the curve of her skin. He knew he couldn’t leave any marks that her kindergarteners were sure to see. He didn’t want Louis, Niall, or Eleanor to see them either. “I love this so much,” his breath was heavy against her skin. “Baby,” he croaked. “I need you so much.”

It made her entire body boil to hear him so needy. Because he didn’t need her. He didn’t need her at all. He was capable of taking care of his whole house, himself, herself, a whole construction crew… he didn’t need her at all but he did. It made her ache all over.

She was so soft, warm, good it made him dizzy. “Please tell me you’re gonna come again, Bird. Please, please, please,” the neediness was so unbelievably delicious she could hardly think straight, see straight, she was only vaguely sure she could hear him begging. “You feel so good wrapped around me,” he didn’t change pace once, something she didn’t have to tell him. Something that he intrinsically knew not to do. How could he keep this up while he was so tired? He was doing ninety-five percent of the work and all she could do was gasp and moan about how good and deep he felt.

“Harry,” she cried.

“God, yes, baby,” he moaned again. “That’s it, come all over me.”

So, what choice did she have?

This orgasm felt like it lasted twice as long as the last and that one lasted for at least six minutes, maybe years. She couldn’t really be sure. Harry yanked her closer, grunted and pulled himself out of her and finished all over her/his shirt. “Fuck,” he whispered, pressing his face against her collarbone.

She smiled and pressed her lips to the shell of his ear. “That’s not very kindergarten-y of you,” she whispered back.

He shook silently with laughter. “I love you so much,” he ignored her little joke.

“I love you too,” she answered. “You gotta clean me up though,” she giggled.

He pulled back; his hair was a bit of a mess thanks to her. His cheeks flushed, his smile deliciously beautiful, his dimples on full display. He tugged the shirt over her head and tossed it to the floor. “Lay down,” he ordered again.

She giggled. “Harry!” She gasped as he pulled her legs apart again.

“Y’said clean y’up, Bird,” he reminded her. “Jus’ doing what y’tell me too. M’good at following directions,” he winked and disappeared from her vision again dipped behind the height of the counter once more.

Dinner could wait till tomorrow. They could order pizza or something if needed.

“Go easy on me,” she asked, smiling at the ceiling above her and she pressed her hands to her cheeks to make sure her skin hadn’t melted off from being so warm.

“M’at your service Miss Bee,” he mumbled into her inner thigh.

--

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@toosarcastic03 @love-letters-to-uranus @crossyourpeter @kissitnhekitchen @indierockgirrl

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

Louis and Eleanor were already sitting in their regular booth when she arrived. Her eyes were half closed despite the coffee she drank. “Oh, come on, babe, rally please,” Louis frowned at her approach. She sighed. She wanted to go home. As much as she loved her friends she was just drained and wanted to be alone.

 “I love this dress,” Eleanor smiled excitedly.

She grinned weakly and dropped into the booth before putting her head on the table. “What did you order?” She asked.

“Buffalo chicken dip.”

“God Bless,” she sighed. “Did you order me a drink?”

“You sure you can drink in your condition?” Louis asked, lifting her arm and letting it flop lazily on the table.

“I’m rallying,” she mumbled into the wood.

“You can tell,” Eleanor patted the back of her hair. “How was your day?”

Her day was wonderful. She was sure she was going to get a cold any minute. The kids were behind in math because of a fire drill and there had been indoor recess for three days straight due to rain. It was madness and this Friday was the first reprieve in ages.

Plus, Harry came back around for the second week in a row to look at stuff around her classroom.

She hadn’t told Louis and Eleanor about the cute guy working next to her school. She knew Eleanor would be bursting at the seams and Louis would make one too many jokes about Harry and his tool(s).

She sat up and shook her head a bit before answering. Trying to perk herself up. Perhaps she should have ordered an espresso martini. Something with caffeine would have helped. “It was good, the kids are doing really well,” she nodded. “I’m a little worried about Milo socially, but overall, they’re a great group,” she said proudly. “I love them so much.”

“You always do,” Louis grinned almost as proudly as she did. He too thought his best friend was a superhero teaching little ones. Having grown up with a host of younger siblings, he knew how important teachers were. He couldn’t believe how kind, compassionate, and patient she was in every facet of her life. Watching his best friend do this made him more appreciative.

“Do you get to rest this weekend?” Eleanor asked.

But Louis also knew she devoted so much of her time in and out of the classroom to these sweet kids.

In theory, she would rest. But even on weekends she had a pretty packed schedule. There were errands, cleaning, laundry, and hopefully getting outside to enjoy the fall weather. “Yes,” she nodded. “One of my kids asked me to go to their soccer game tomorrow though, it’s at the school, so I figured I could swing by.”

“That’s kind of you,” Eleanor grinned. “Any dates in your future?” She wiggled her eyebrows.

She sighed. The thought of dating the handsome construction worker crossed her mind. But after her previous relationships, it just made more sense to be alone for the time being. Until she got her footing and found a balance that worked for her. It wouldn’t be long now; she was getting there. But these kids were her whole world, and she loved being there for them. They were young, adorable, and they valued those who showed up—especially if people in their lives weren’t showing up. “No dates.”

“None?” Eleanor pouted. “Babe, it’s been...forever.”

“Don’t remind me,” she sighed. “I’ve just been busy.”

“But it’s good for you. You don’t have to sleep with every guy, and you don’t have to marry the first guy you find,” El continued. “I know you love those kids and they’re your whole life; I get that. But the right guy will let you have that.”

“It’s hard,” she explained. “I don’t want it to be like last time,” she shrugged. It was so casual. As if it wasn’t the worst break up in the history of the world. If she pushed it down and didn’t think about it, it wouldn’t bother her like it used to. She wouldn’t worry about it.

“Bird?”

She nearly broke her neck with the way it snapped to the voice before she could stop it. Eleanor’s gaze turned to the sound as well. Her jaw dropping as Harry approached. He smiled that sweet, sexy way with the pretty dimples. He was wearing a polo shirt instead of his company’s T-shirt and his dark pants replaced the ever-present work ones he wore on the job site. His work boots were now just a pair of casual trainers. It was clear Harry would look hot in a trash bag, but part of her missed the construction outfit.

“Harry,” she said softly and standing outside the booth to greet him. “Hi,” she said.

“Hi, Bird,” he grinned a little brighter. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Um,” she shook her head. “These are my best friends: Louis and Eleanor,” she gestured. “This is Harry,” she said to them.

“Hi,” he waved briefly. “Did y’come right from school?” He asked, glancing at the dress he saw her in only hours before.

Well, yeah. She hadn’t anticipated anyone from work seeing her in the same outfit. “Um...yeah. I stopped at my sister’s house to help her with something. Didn’t leave time to change.”

“Y’look beautiful,” he said reassuringly, his smile unmoving from his face. She felt her face warm at the compliment knowing Eleanor was eating it up. “Jus’ wanted t’make sure y’weren’t there for hours and hours on your own.”

She bit the inside of her lip knowing that Louis and Eleanor were going to give her an earful as soon as he left. If he left. Fortunately, at that moment, the waitress came by and placed the buffalo chicken dip on the center of their table. Her stomach growled at the sight of it. “Do you two want to order a drink?” She asked of herself and Harry.

“Oh, I need another minute to look over the—” She started hoping it would give her a moment to rid her space of Harry. Not that she really wanted him to leave. But she didn’t want the first time seeing him outside her classroom to be overshadowed by her faux parental figures eating buffalo chicken dip with her who at any moment were going to go at it about the guy she was hiding from them.

“Harry, please sit,” Eleanor begged. “We never finish this with the three of us,” she continued.

Harry looked at her and noted the uneasiness clearly on her face as her two little worlds collided. “S’okay, thank you. M’here with m’friend Niall. Jus’ coming back from the bathroom and thought I saw you in y’pretty dress,” he winked. Her face felt hot, and she wondered if she was going to start sweating. She needed to have a bite of the dip in hopes of playing off the heat she felt spreading through her body. “I’ll see you Monday?” He pressed a hand to her arm and gave it a gentle squeeze before he said goodbye to her friends. As soon as he was out of ear and eye shot, she turned toward her booth with her friends and waited for the onslaught of questions.

“Who’s Harry?” Eleanor began crunching on a chip.

“Uh... he’s a construction worker. He’s the foreman on the job site next to the school.”

“How’d you meet?” Louis smiled excitedly.

“I had to show the kids all the scary noises, or I was never going to get anything done.”

“Oh,” Eleanor brightened. “When did you meet him?”

“Last week,” she admitted.

“Interesting,” she practically sang. “He seems... friendly.”

“M-hmm.”

“Attractive,” Eleanor continued.

“Yup,” she nodded and scooped some dip onto her plate and grabbed a handful of chips.

“How did he know you would be in your classroom for hours on end?” Louis asked. It was ridiculous she was making them practically beg for details, but she didn’t want to get their hopes up.

“Uh...” she sighed. “Janie may have told him that my desk was crooked, and if he could fix it that would be nice.” Louis and Eleanor grinned liked maniacs as they continued eating. She knew it was coming but she did her best to ignore their stares and insinuating smiles. “What?” She asked, finally.

“Can I be maid of honor? Are you gonna invite your class to be part of your wedding? Do you want a summer wedding because it will be easier to plan around school?”

She sighed and ate her buffalo chicken dip as Eleanor rambled on about it. “It’s not happening.”

“Why not?” She frowned.

For about ten thousand reasons. The main one being she wasn’t going to be in a relationship when she didn’t feel she could devote her time to it the way she needed to. Neither her nor whomever she decided to date deserved that. “You know why.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Louis rolled his eyes. “You spend a lot of time on your students, yes. But it’s no worse than a hobby like knitting or video games,” he said pointedly. She knew where it was headed because they had been having the same conversation since her breakup almost two years ago. “Evan wanted your attention when he had time for you, it’s no different. You shouldn’t let his stupid behavior or ideas get to you and dictate your dating life.”

She frowned around her next bite of chip and dip. Louis was right, to a degree, but Evan had some pretty decent points. She did spend a lot of time and energy on her kids to the point of ad nauseum. There was only so much someone probably wanted to hear about in a group of twenty random five- and six-year-olds.

When the waitress returned, she ordered her drink and finally felt her stomach pain relieved once the food settled in. She liked the music that was playing around the room. Nothing over the top, but people were dancing. This was one of her favorite spots. Not too casual, not too fancy. Not too clubby, but not too hole-in-the-wall either.

But she didn’t dare look around to find the handsome foreman roaming about the room.

After a few more questions about Harry, a conversation about dinner plans for the following week, family chat, a second drink (and a third), along with another app (this time fried pickles that she was pretty sure Eleanor and Louis only got two of total before she devoured them) and more chatter about her cute kids, the night seemed longer than she imagined she could last. The bill was placed on their table, and she frowned almost immediately.

“My drinks are missing,” she told the waitress.

“Oh, the gentleman that was here earlier insisted your drinks go on his tab,” she explained with a kind smile.

Her face warmed again, and she could feel Eleanor and Louis positively beaming. “Oh,” she mumbled. “That was very nice of him,” handing her card over.

“Go thank him!” El smiled. “Please! It’s obvious he likes you.”

She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t know how insane I am about the kids.”

“I could kill Evan,” Louis mumbled sipping the last of his drink. “Just go thank the cute guy for Christ’s sake. It’ll give him something to think about tonight.”

She scratched her eyebrow with her middle finger while glaring at Louis. As casually as she could, glanced around the place looking for signs of the hot guy. “I wouldn’t have had three drinks,” she mumbled.

“Go tell him that! I’ll guard your credit card. Just go find him, please!” Eleanor begged. “You deserve a cute guy buying you drinks.”

“I’m not going to go find him. I’ll just see him on Monday and thank him then,” she offered. “But I do have to pee; even the teacher bladder can’t hold all this in,” she explained sliding out of the booth once more.

“Please run into him, please run into him, please run into him,” Eleanor murmured to herself, miming a praying motion as she walked away. She rolled her eyes and headed across the room to the bathroom. 

As soon as she turned the corner to the bathroom, Eleanor’s prayers were answered. His profile was in view as he hung at the bar watching the game while he and Niall sipped their drinks. They had smiles on their faces, laughing at something, and enjoying the moment. She seriously hated that she was going to have to walk right by them to get to the bathroom.

Taking a deep breath, she headed their way. When she was close enough that she could hear his voice and his intoxicating laugh, he did a double take as she approached. “Hi Bird,” he grinned so sweetly she could feel her cheeks warm.

“Hi,” she smiled in return. “Thanks for getting my drinks... I wouldn’t have gotten that many if I knew you were paying,” she frowned.

He shook his head brushing her off quickly. “S’why I did it,” he said reassuringly. “And three is not that many after the week y’had,” he reminded her with that smile that could light up a black hole. Fuck he’s pretty. “This is m’friend, Niall. He’s also on the crew. This is Miss Bird, Miss Bee for short,” he explained, her heart skipping a beat as he remembered what the little ones said. “She was in charge of the cute kids last week.”

“Nice to officially meet you, Miss Bird,” he held his hand out to shake it. “I heard you have a lovely classroom.”

She blushed darting her eyes to Harry’s ever-present smile. and then returning to Niall. “Thank you,” she said appreciatively. “It’s kind of a work in progress.”

“You don’t have to explain that to us,” Niall chuckled making her grin.

While she interacted with Niall, her body felt the warmth and weight of Harry’s stare on her skin. That smile of his was doing things to her—none of which were what she would call healthy. It was like goosebumps, a flutter of her stomach, her heart was flying. It felt like her little ones explaining their tummy aches and she was suffering every second of it.

“Well, I won’t keep you both... I was heading to the bathroom, anyway. But... thank you again,” she said appreciatively to Harry.

“Course, bird,” he nodded politely. “See you Monday?” He asked.

She nodded. “Monday,” she agreed.

*

“She’s cute,” Niall grinned. “I can see why you like her.”

Harry smiled at the glass in front of him like a love-sick fool. He was doting after her every Friday doing little repairs. He had massive plans for things she mentioned she wanted once he gained more of her trust. It seemed too grand of a gesture to do it all after only setting foot in her classroom three times.

She was so pretty. The kind of pretty that Harry would have blushed over when he was young. Like when he first learned that he was allowed to like girls and that they were supposed to put butterflies in his stomach. He liked the bright colors she wore and the way she spoke to her students. He was overwhelmed by her. Each time she smiled, he swore he heard music. Her laugh rivaled the sound of symphonies. He liked everything she did, the way she wore her hair, how she pursed her lips when she was doing her planning for the coming week—all of it. He could admit he was a little obsessed. He wasn’t too proud to say it. She was lovely from every angle. The way she thanked him for silly little things. How she was so meticulous in her cleaning or even the cutting of paper for her students’ projects.

“She’s so sweet,” Harry sighed. “M’lucky I can talk around her.”

“Why don’t you ask her out?”

“Did y’not jus’ hear me say m’lucky I can even talk around her?”

He smirked into his drink. “Well, you better find some luck; she’s coming back.”

Harry turned to her approaching again. She looked a bit frazzled, her cheeks a cute shade of red that matched the pants she wore the first time he saw her. She took a deep breath. “Hi again, I’m sorry to bother you guys,” she sounded sincere and embarrassed.

“Not at all, Bird, everything alright?” Harry was quick to ask.

“Here, you sit,” Niall offered. “I was going to use the restroom myself,” he clapped Harry on the back and walked away before he could say anything else. Harry turned his full attention towards her.

“I’m fine... My friends... they’re kind of the... pranking type. They knew you were here so... they kind of left me... and took all my stuff,” she rolled her eyes. “Could I use your phone to order a ride?”

He chuckled. “These are your best friends?” But he could see Niall doing something like that. Maybe she did like him but was too shy to do something about it. He was surprised Niall didn’t think of doing the very same thing before her pair of friends did. The best Harry thought he could do was buy her drinks but instead he would get an extra fifteen minutes, outside her classroom, alone with her. This would be extra lovely.

“Well, not anymore,” she grumbled.

Harry laughed again. “I can take y’home?” He offered. “Or wherever your stuff is.”

She shook her head quickly. “Thank you, but I don’t want to put you out. Louis and Eleanor live across town and I’m just a five-minute drive so I can just call a ride.”

Harry paused briefly as he looked her over, assessing if she would really hate him for insisting on helping her out. “I really don’t mind, Miss Bird. Told you I was at y’service,” he reminded her gently.

Her heart skipped several beats. Not just one. He threw her heart totally out of sync. Her ex-boyfriend never visited her classroom and yet this stranger was happy to be there. Happy to help her. Wanted to help her. “I appreciate it, not that you need to do the other stuff for me either, but this is really above and beyond.”

“Think society should go above and beyond for the teachers that go above and beyond all the time,” he shrugged and finished the last of his drink. “I also don’t want you t’get in a car with a stranger without any of your stuff.”

She knew that Harry wouldn’t let her do it, probably just the same as Eleanor and Louis knew he wouldn’t either. She didn’t really want to go alone, but she also knew that Eleanor wouldn’t come back unless she was desperate. But El must have known that Harry wouldn’t let her find her own ride home alone late in the evening. Even from the few interactions she had with him, it was evident that Harry was a good person. As a kindergarten teacher, she believed she was an excellent judge of character. It was important when on field trips to know if people were going to be good to her little ones or not. It made her wary of people walking by the playground at recess. Of course, it also helped on parent night figuring out if a parent was going to be a headache or not throughout the year.

There was no way Harry was going to let her get into a car with a complete stranger to drive her home late in the night without her belongings. For safety purposes first and foremost.

Also, because he was fairly certain he was in love with her, but that truly was secondary. Maybe.

“I’m not going to hold you and Niall up?” She asked.

“M’pretty sure Niall left,” he admitted signing the receipt for all the drinks he had bought this evening. Niall was long gone; he waved at Harry when he exited the bathroom making obscene gestures with his fingers and a waggle of his eyebrows as he left. Harry obviously ignored him.

She smiled. “Some friends we have,” she joked.

But they were. For making them spend time with one another. “The very best,” he nodded in agreement.

*

Harry opened the passenger door of his car for her to get inside. The small gesture didn’t go unnoticed. The chivalry was something she wasn’t completely used to. She was more of a DIY kind of girl, yard sale and paint it kind of vibe. Fix her skirt with a safety pin before giving up on it. Doors weren’t held open for her, people couldn’t get there fast enough. But she didn’t need it either. She didn’t need doors opened for her or a knight and shining armor to come to her rescue. One of the many things her mentors taught her was to be resourceful.

But Harry opened her door anyway and she thought that maybe it wouldn’t have been the worst thing in the world to be a little less resourceful. “Thanks,” she mumbled quietly.

He winked at her. Winked. Then headed to his side of the car. “Y’can play with the temperature and music if y’feel so inclined,” he told her as the car started.

“I’m comfortable right now, thank you,” she said softly.

In the creepiest of ways, he wanted to know where she lived. Maybe he would surprise her with flowers or something equally stalker-ish or serial killer-like. Therefore, it was probably for the best he was taking her to Louis and Eleanor’s. She put the address into his GPS, so she didn’t have to give him directions (bad ones at that). It felt a little awkward in the car for about two minutes as she tried to think of what to say. Her whole life revolved around six-year-olds and from previous experience it felt like a bad idea to talk about them to a new guy who knew very little about her.

Fortunately, Harry broke the ice quickly. “What do y’have planned for your class this week?” He asked.

She blinked wondering if he could hear her thoughts. But despite his question, she wasn’t going to bombard him. “Oh, just the normal kindergarten things,” she summarized.

He chuckled. “Y’can chat ‘bout the more specifics if y’want,” he said following the GPS to the right.

Her heart felt so excited and heavy all the same. He was going to make her fall in love with him so quickly it was embarrassing. “Um...” she thought of the weekly planner on her now evenly laid desk that didn’t wobble when she wrote on the surface. “We’re going to start our shapes unit in math,” she started. “We’re still reading Charlotte’s Web and they’re working on their handwriting while we do our reading comprehension stuff.”

“That’s a lot for kindergarten, no?”

“It’s a ton, actually,” she nodded. “I think the standards have gotten harder since I was in kindergarten. They need to know about a hundred more things than I ever did. It’s overwhelming,” she explained. “So I try to make it fun and engaging because there is so much.”

“If the way your kids talked t’me a couple weeks ago is any indication, they love you and your class.”

“I think so too,” she admitted shyly.

“Y’should be proud of that, Bird,” he chuckled. “Y’sound like s’not the coolest thing in the world.”

“It’s not... not really.”

He frowned, and part of her wished she never made him do it. His mouth was too pretty to be making a sad face. He was too pretty to be anything but happy and she didn’t want to be the cause of upsetting him no matter how minor it was. “But it is,” he assured her.

“Well... thank you,” she said sincerely. “How about you? What’s up for this week?”

“Well, we’re finally going t’pour the forms for the foundation. We spent all this past week digging and prepping and getting things inspected,” he explained.

“Is it hard to time things?”

He shrugged. “Not particularly. I have an outline of what supposed t’get done and when. There’s room for error. S’the biggest project ‘ve ever worked on so I have t’estimate based on the smaller projects ‘ve done. The weather is what can really do us in on a big project like this.”

“That makes sense. How long is this project projected to be?”

“We’re thinking a little over a year start t’finish.”

“That’s so much,” she said in surprise. “And it’s going to be a whole police and fire station?”

“S’the plan,” he smirked.

“That’s incredible. Truly. I couldn’t do anything like that.”

“S’not so bad. Time feels like s’flying already.”

“That’s fair, can’t believe it’s almost Halloween.”

“What are y’going t’be? Do y’do dress up for your students?” He asked. She nodded.

“I put in my newsletter at the beginning of the year that I want to dress as your future profession or dream job.”

He grinned while watching the road even though he would have preferred to stare at her as he asked his next question. “So you don’t need a costume?”

“I’ll probably dress up as something silly, like a donut or a crayon. Something to make them laugh and enjoy. I already have my dream job,” she said so casually. Harry felt his stomach flip over her passion. She was so unbelievably good.

Harry cleared his throat before he told her he loved her and wanted to spend the rest of his life fixing up her classroom to be anything she wanted. “Any construction workers in the bunch?”

“Oh, at least five,” she giggled. “I have a list of questions for you too, that I’ve been holding over their heads, so they’ll be quiet during math,” she admitted with another laugh.

But Harry frowned. Had he known she had a list of questions, a way for him to spend more time with the pretty woman, he would have all but begged to be in her classroom. “Why didn’t y’tell me? I’d come in and answer questions,” he offered.

She looked toward the window briefly. “They’ll forget about it eventually, I don’t want...” she took a deep breath. “I am not holding you to it, is all I mean.”

Harry followed the GPS for another minute through a series of turns. “S’not a problem. Jus’ tell me the time and I’ll be there.”

“It’s really no big—”

“You’re right, Bird, s’no big deal. None at all. So m’happy t’come in,” he assured her.

She bit the inside of her lip as Harry pulled into the driveway. “You’re very kind Mr. Styles,” she said quietly looking at her hands in her lap.

Now parked, Harry turned toward her and nodded. “So are you, Miss Bee.”

“I knew we forgot someone!” Louis shouted from the doorway.

She rolled her eyes rolling down the window. “You guys suck. Harry already thinks you’re insane and never wants to see me again.”

Eleanor skipped down the steps and leaned onto the window frame. “It’s why we’re friends, Harry. Get on board or you can’t be with her. Or whatever The Spice Girls said.”

He smiled. “S’okay, I appreciated the alone time,” he winked at Eleanor without so much as a glance at her. She was grateful for the dark to cover the shade of red on her cheeks. “Are y’staying the night?”

“It’s either she stays here, or the Styles-Taxi will have to bring her home,” Eleanor said impishly.

“Nope, I’ve inconvenienced Harry enough for a lifetime, thank you,” she said shoving El away from the car and opening the door. Harry smirked.

“Will you tell her she’s not an inconvenience?” Louis asked a few steps back from the window.

“That’s very kind of you, Louis. Ask my only real friend right now, who didn’t abandon me and drove me out of his way to get me back to you lot,” she rolled her eyes, “to tell me I’m not an inconvenience.”

Harry laughed softly. “You’re not,” he assured her. “I’d drive y’home if y’needed me to.”

She nodded and looked at him shyly. “Thank you, but we’re going to one of my students’ soccer games tomorrow, so I don’t mind spending the night here.”

“Oh, that’s very sweet of you, Miss Bee.”

“She doesn’t turn it off,” Louis rolled her eyes. “We’re going to her sister’s dance recital on Sunday and... what are you doing tomorrow evening? Babysitting or tutoring?”

She ignored Louis. “Good night, Harry, thank you for the ride,” she said softly and waved heading for the door with Eleanor.

Louis sighed, shaking his head with a smirk. “We didn’t think you’d really kidnap her but thank you for bringing her home anyway.”

“Anytime,” he smiled. “She’s... really lovely,” he murmured gazing after her retreating figure. “Here’s m’number... in case she gets stranded and y’need m’taxi services,” he handed off a dark navy business card that stated his name and number along with Handy Man Services and a graphic of some tools in silver leaf lettering.

“Pleasure to meet you, Harry. Thanks for taking care of Miss Kindergarten.”

“Course,” he nodded and waved as Louis headed for the house after the girls. Harry sank into the scent of her perfume that lingered in the car as he drove away with a smile on his lips.

*

Harry could see it was her from the job site when she was out at the playground monitoring the little ones. He wondered if she was constantly doing a headcount. Or if she trusted they wouldn’t stray too far. With the weather getting a little cooler, her pink coat turned into a bright blue, thicker in appearance. She still wore dresses, but not as frequently—only when the weather cooperated. There was a walkie-talkie in her hand as she walked the perimeter checking the watch on her wrist every so often—was she doing a step count? She must have walked six miles at work while toting her students around the building and playground.

The kids often didn’t leave her alone. Or they were constantly calling out for her. There were other students out there too, other teachers as well. But no one was called upon the way she was.

It had to be hard to be needed so much. But he couldn’t blame them either. He would call out for her too if he could.

“Is this why you’re taking your lunch break so late?” Niall asked sipping his water while he looked at Harry meandering near the fence by the field. He smirked. “Maybe.”

“Hmm,” he hummed shaking his head. “Lovesick.”

“Maybe,” he repeated watching her again.

“Did you ask her out when you drove her home?”

“No, didn’t want t’put her on the spot. Didn’t want her to think she had to say yes.”

“Mm. I’m sure watching her and her students on the outskirts of a playground is helping your case.”

“Mr. Harry!” Someone shouted.

Her head instinctively turned toward the job site, and Harry felt a little smug that her eyes caught his from across the way. The little ones bounded toward the field. A little gaggle of six-year-olds rushing toward him. It was adorable.

Their pretty teacher followed behind at a leisurely pace. “Miss Bee said we can ask you our questions if we’re really good during math time,” Harry only remembered the names of the three that asked him questions a couple weeks prior and unfortunately neither Mae, Milo, nor Zara was the one talking now.

“Sounds like we need t’be good during math time. We’re learning shapes, yeah?” He asked.

The little heads bobbed in agreement. A little girl closest to the fence was staring straight up, her neck bent back at a ninety-degree angle to look at Harry. “Do you know what a rhombus is?”

Harry chuckled. “I think so, do you want to tell me?”

“It has four equal sides. It looks like a square, but it’s squished,” Mae explained.

“You can make it out of two equal-literal triangles,” a little boy continued.

“Equilateral, my love,” she said gently approaching. Harry gave a small wave as did Niall.

“We love triangles on the job site,” Niall said knowingly.

“Really?!” Another little girl piped up excitedly.

“Yeah, they’re the strongest shape,” Harry explained. “When we start framing the building—”

“What’s framing?”

“Mr. Harry was speaking, Brayden,” she chided softly. “It’s rude to interrupt, right my love?” She asked.

“Sorry, Mr. Harry,” Brayden frowned.

“S’okay, lad. S’a good question,” he said reassuringly.

Niall answered in response for Harry. “It’s putting all pieces up around the sides into the foundation of where the building would be.”

They tilted their heads up at him, their little eyes looking on curiously. Confused by the word foundation for sure. “It’s like when you put the edges of a puzzle together first,” her voice was so kind and soft. Their heads bobbed once more in recognition of something they had done, finally understanding what Niall and Harry meant. Her ability to make analogies for the little ones made Harry fall a little harder for her.

“So we put in these diagonal pieces,” Harry explained. “Makes the building stronger.”

“What’s a diagonal?” Milo asked.

“It splits a shape in half from corner to corner,” Niall answered.

“Have you ever had a PB and J cut into triangles?” She asked Milo.

“Triangles are the best kind for PB and J’s,” Mae nodded excitedly.

“I like rectangles more!”

“My mommy cuts mine into a heart.”

She smiled as the little ones all said their favorite sandwich shapes. “Miss Bee,” a little one tugged on her pant leg. “Could we have a sandwich party with shapes?”

“I think that sounds like a great idea, Kai,” she grinned.

“Mr. Harry, can you and your friend come to our party?”

“This is Mr. Niall,” Harry gestured to his friend beside him.

“Hi Mr. Niall!” They all sang in unison.

“Can they please come Miss Bee?” Kai asked.

“Mr. Harry can answer all our questions!”

The excitement was bursting from them before she could answer. Their chatter was a little overwhelming. “Watch this,” Harry murmured to Niall, a smile on his face as the pretty woman looked at all the children. The awe he had for her was probably evident on his face. Niall could see the adoration in Harry’s eyes as he watched.

“Tootsie roll, lollipop!” she called out with a slightly louder voice.

“We’ve been talking, now let’s stop!”

Somehow getting a group of six-year-olds to stop chattering with a simple phrase was one of the hottest things Harry had ever seen. Niall swore Harry was going to start drooling over her. Niall chuckled but was nonetheless impressed. “Should try that on the crew.”

“Mr. Harry and Mr. Niall are doing their jobs, remember? They can’t just come to our party.”

“What if we make invitations? I made invitations for my birthday party!”

“Amara, we can discuss it back in circle time, but you know how we can’t just go to specials whenever we want? Mr. Harry and Mr. Niall can’t just come to our party in the middle of their jobs,” she explained.

“Oh,” the little one pouted.

“We would love t’be there,” Harry said knowingly. “If we can arrange a time, we can try t’make it.”

“Why don’t you guys go line up with the other teachers,” she suggested. “Say bye to Mr. Harry and Mr. Niall.”

“Bye!”

“Thank you,” she said kindly to the pair of them. “That was really cool to talk about shapes,” she smiled.

“No problem,” Niall assured her. “I gotta get back to my task, but it was nice to see you again, Miss Bee. Let me know when our sandwich party is.”

Harry smiled brightly at her. “Hi.”

She looked at him shyly, her cheeks blushing once more. “Hi.”

Harry put his hand on the fence dangerously close to hers. He could feel the warmth of her pinky near his. “Can I come see y’later in your classroom?” He asked.

“It’s not Friday,” the pinch of her brows coming together.

“I can’t wait till Friday,” he said knowingly those pretty dimples of his making her melt a bit.

She bit her lower lip and nodded, a smile twitching on her mouth. “Later,” she agreed and walked away.

Harry felt practically giddy as he walked back to the site.

*

The outside door was propped open when he arrived. Quickly he found her sitting on the carpeted floor of the classroom in a circle of colorful paper, her laminator in the middle beside her and the smell of warm plastic. “What are you doing?” He asked.

“I have to cut these pumpkins up,” she explained. “I want to laminate my decorations for November too,” she continued.

Harry sat beside her. Cross-legged. His tall frame, his T-shirt stretching over his muscles. His clunky work boots. Everything about him was broad and masculine. His expression was extremely concentrated as he picked up a pair of scissors and got to work cutting up the bright orange paper. “How’s this work?” He asked pointing to the laminator.

She demonstrated with the paper and plastic she had in her hand. Harry watched with rapt attention. “I like to save the plastic as much as possible, so I put a lot on one sheet,” she told him. He nodded. He took some paper and plastic cover sheets from her. “Thank you,” she said gratefully. “I’m sure you don’t want to spend a Tuesday afternoon doing this,” she mumbled.

“S’no bother. I like spending time with you,” he reminded her. “Why are you on the floor, though?”

“I can only sit in a chair that’s made for a six-year-old for so long, my desk isn’t big enough for everything and the outlet by my desk is a little sketchy at best,” she smiled. “And I love my rocking chair, but it’s not really conducive for paper cutting and stuff...” she glanced at Harry again and his large body. He was so hot. “Do you want to sit in a real chair? You probably don’t want to sit on rainbow carpet after a long day at work,” she frowned.

“No,” he chuckled. “M’okay,” he assured her.

“Do you want a snack or a drink or anything?”

“M’really fine, Bird. Jus’ happy t’help you. Happy t’be spending time with you.”

“Cutting paper,” she stated, accusation laced in her tone.

“Cutting paper,” he repeated and nodded at the same time.

“On a Tuesday.”

“I could help on a Wednesday too,” he shrugged.

She swallowed. “Harry,” she said softly. Her fingers paused using the scissors, and some of the paper slid off her lap.

“Yes?”

“Why are you doing this?”

“M’sure y’know why, Bird. You’re a brilliant, educated, beautiful woman.” Her cheeks flushed with color and Harry smiled gently at her. “I like you, Bird. You know I do.” Her lap was covered in orange, black, and yellow paper. She was so pretty. Her hair piled on top of her head, at least three pencils sticking out of the bun at every which angle. She probably thought it looked messy, but Harry just thought she looked like the prettiest art sculpture ever created. The cardigan on her shoulders slipped to one side and Harry thought a plain white T-shirt beneath it might be the sexiest thing he ever saw. “Bird?” He said quietly.

“I spread myself really thin. I have a family, my friends, my students, I barely take care of myself, and I don’t care because I love every single thing I do,” she explained. “I thought I put my ex first, but he didn’t feel the same way. If you ask Louis and Eleanor, they’ll tell you he was the worst, but I think he may have been right,” she swallowed. “I put so much into this job and I love it and I don’t think—”

“Do y’think m’going t’try and change that?” He interrupted. “Your passion is exactly why I like you. M’not going t’change that. If I only get t’spend time with you by cutting up paper and laminating it on the floor of your classroom once a week then I can’t think of a better date. This is more than enough. I don’t need a lot.”

“You might not need a lot, but it doesn’t mean you don’t deserve a lot.”

God, she was perfect. “S’more than enough jus’ t’know that, Bird. Truly.”

She rolled her lips into her mouth. “Really?”

“Besides, if I help y’get all this done, then it goes by faster. Right? Maybe then I could take you t’dinner?”

“But—”

“Please, let me take you t’dinner,” he offered, his voice soft. “It doesn’t have t’be a date. Can jus’ be us going as friends.”

“I really don’t want to send mixed signals and I just—”

“Bird,” he smiled. “M’not afraid t’beg. There’s no expectations. Jus’ dinner or lunch. Or breakfast. Whenever you’re free.”

She bit the inside of her cheek and pulled out her phone and tapped on the screen a few times. “I’m free Friday night,” she said softly.

“After a long week?” He chuckled. “Y’were practically falling asleep with y’friends on Friday. Pick a different day. Any day. Sunday afternoon, Monday night, or four in the morning on a Thursday. I don’t care.”

“You’d go on a date with me on a Monday night?”

“I’d go on a date with you during your lunch hour.”

“Lunch hour,” she laughed. “I get twenty-four minutes,” she shook her head.

“Then it would be the best spent twenty-four minutes I can possibly think of,” he promised unbothered by the amount of time. Harry would take fifteen seconds of time with her. As much as she could offer, he would take it.

She pursed her lips. “You really want to do this?”

“I really want t’do this.”

There was a long pause as they gazed at one another. Harry thought she was the prettiest person in the world. How anyone let her slip away was a mystery to him. If she gave him a chance, he wouldn’t be going anywhere. No matter how hard she tried to push him away for his own benefit.

“Sunday afternoon sounds kind of lovely,” she admitted quietly.

“I couldn’t agree more.”

--

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March was the longest month of the year.

Teachers should be paid double in the month of March.

She groaned as her alarm went off and her head felt like a balloon was taking residence where her brain was supposed to be. Or behind her eyes. And her ears. Then there was the whole thing with her nose and her throat. Pretty much anything an otolaryngologist would oversee, felt like it was swollen.

Standing up, she moaned again. It felt like her skin hurt. Without turning on the light, she made it to her bathroom. Blindly she reached for the cabinet door of the vanity. As she opened it, it came off in her hand and dropped on her foot, corner first of course. She hissed and rubbed her other foot on top of her injury while the broken door flopped to the ground too loudly for that early in the morning and for someone that felt like they were suffering from the worst hangover of their life.

Sighing she felt blindly for the thermometer among the shelves in the cabinet.

It was definitely DJ. DJ coughed and sneezed all over everything last week regardless of how many times she reminded him of good hygiene practices. There wasn’t enough hand sanitizer and anti-bacterial soap in the world to stop the super germs of kindergarteners.

Moaning she made her way back to her bed and flopped down. No fever. Despite the fact she felt like she was sweating. All she wanted was a break. One little day. But no fever meant this was doable. It was just a cold. She would sleep for another hour. Show up on time instead of early. She’d been doing this long enough so that she could wing together anything that needed to be put together in a last-minute, last-ditch effort and it would still turn out okay, at least. Either way, the little ones wouldn’t know. Miss Bee would be her happy normal self, just a little sniffly. A little sweaty. A little tired.

She just needed one extra hour of sleep.

*

Harry was worried.

She didn’t answer him yesterday afternoon. Not that he demanded nor needed her undivided attention, but he had never seen her leave work early (early for her, that is). He wasn’t quite sure how he missed her. It was probably like a bad sitcom. Harry saw her at dismissal, fortunately there was no Evan so maybe he didn’t feel the need to keep an eye on her as close as he normally did. That was perhaps his mistake. So, when he looked back, she was gone. He headed down the path to her classroom door, peered in like an absolute creep. He was lucky he did the background check that first day he met her. He was certain the police would have been by to arrest him otherwise. But her lights were off. A novelty. In the six months he had known her, not once had he approached her classroom after school and found it, for all intents and purposes, dark.

It was Tuesday. They always laminated and cut paper on Tuesdays.

He frowned at her empty classroom. Hey Bird, everything okay? You leaving in a hurry for something?

How had he missed her? It went unanswered and after school she was usually pretty, immediately responsive. Running a hand through his hair, he headed back up the path. Her car was gone, and he swore it had to be a joke that he was missing her. He imagined if he was crazy enough to run closer to the road, he would have caught the sight of her taillights heading off.

Turning to his car he sighed. He could swing by her house. That would be a normal boyfriend thing to do, right? It wasn’t crazy, or stalkerish, right?

Right?

“No after school special?” Niall asked.

Once he headed for her classroom, Harry rarely saw Niall after school let out. Niall was just one ladder rung (no pun intended) below Harry on the jobsite, and he was kind enough to check things over at quitting time just so Harry could get even a few extra minutes alone with his pretty bird.

“I guess not,” he mumbled. “S’a bit unlike her. Leaving so quickly. Not answering her texts…”

The one he sent at lunch time because he hadn’t seen her at recess either… Harry’s stomach churned uneasily. Was it something he did? No, it couldn’t be… Their date on Sunday was fine. Everything was fine. So, unless it was something Evan said the day before, or something her pretty brain conjured up in her mind, everything was fine.

“Maybe it was a family emergency,” he shrugged. “I’m sure she’ll text you soon. Don’t stress so much.”

But even if it was nothing to worry about, it still worried him because it was so unlike her. “Driving by her house would be…?”

“Creepy,” Niall stated.

“It would, wouldn’t it?” He grumbled. “She said I could come by any time,” he reminded Niall. They stood facing one another, separated by Harry’s car, Niall leaning back against his driver’s door while Harry leaned against his hood.

“Mm, that’s true. Maybe you could be in the neighborhood. Drive by just to see if she’s home? Maybe she’s just had a long day, and she went home,” he suggested.

Harry nodded. “Yeah, maybe,” he muttered. It just sounded so unlike her. Harry really hoped everything was okay. “Yeah. I’ll drive by,” he confirmed to himself and got in his car without much more thought of it. He sped a little faster and headed to the familiar house with its patched roof and painted shut windows. He wanted to ask her to move in, it would be so much easier, but he knew she loved this house. He didn’t blame her. It was adorable, a great area, and so completely her. If it weren’t for the fact he loved her so much, he probably would have already asked her to abandon it.

He parked in the driveway beside her car, his anxiety easing a little as he headed up the path to her front door and knocked. But then his anxiety kicked right back up as his knock went unanswered. He frowned. Called her phone. Which also went unanswered.

Harry felt bad he was tattling, but he remembered her rule was that it wasn’t tattling if it was a safety concern and there was no question that Harry was concerned for her safety. Hey Louis, it’s Harry. Have you heard from her today? She’s not answering her phone…

No, I haven’t. She must be sick. She’s probably trying to sleep it off and isn’t fully coherent. It’s pretty much the only time her phone goes unanswered. Did she go to work today? She’s insane ya know. I’ll check with her sister just to be safe.

Harry felt only the most minor bouts of relief. However, he was still upset if she was ill and went to work and was hiding it.

I’m… actually at her house. Do you think it’s alright to go in and check on her? She’s not answering the door.

Oh yeah, she’s got an open-door policy for loved ones anyway. Probably especially for you. The spare is on the back side of the welcome sign. It’s hooked on a magnet, can’t miss it. Let me know if she’s worse for wear than we thought.

Harry felt all kinds of emotions as he hurried to find the key and get inside her house. “Hey Bird,” he called, putting the key on the entry table and locking the door behind him. “Y’home?” He asked and kicked his shoes off. It still felt creepy whether he had been granted permission or not. “Kitten,” he called quietly again. “Y’making me a bit nervous,” he admitted and headed through the small hall looking for her. “Oh fuck,” he frowned. She was lying on the bathroom floor. The shower was running, hot steam filling the small room she was almost hard to see. One shoe had fallen off her foot. Her face looked peaceful other than the small wrinkle between her brows like she was in pain. “Hey,” he turned the water off and then crouched beside her. The door to the vanity was gone and flopped on the floor haphazardly. Shit, was she unconscious? Did it hit her? “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispered and gently moved her so he could cradle her in his lap. “Kitten?” He tried again. “Bird, m’love, wake up,” he encouraged stroking her face and gently nudging her as best he could without moving her too much in fear the door did hit her head. Then maybe she hit her head again going down. But there was no bump, no cut, not a drop of blood on her face.

She groaned low and long. Pain evident in her face as the peace of her face disappeared and the little stitch in her forehead deepened. “No,” she whined.

“Hey,” he whispered. Relief flooded him. “Bird, s’matter? What happened?”

She coughed hard. Her body was shaking. “S’cold.”

Harry was sweating and so was she. He brushed his hand on the back of her forehead, clammy and a little warm, but not feverish. “Oh, baby,” he frowned.

“M’sleepy.”

“Why didn’t y’say something?” he asked and curled her closer.

“Don’t move me, m’head hurts,” she begged. Making all of Harry’s fears about hitting her head come right back. “I think it’s going to explode,” she explained.

“What’s going t’explode, m’love?”

“My head.”

His heart took off three times as fast. “Bird, did the door hit your head?”

“No, my foot,” she muttered. She was taking him on a roller coaster, and the highs and lows were so jarring he wanted to cry. He glanced at her feet, but she was wearing tights so he couldn’t see anything. “M’head hurts,” she repeated. “I think it’s gonna explode.”

“Kitten,” he frowned. “What happened?”

“M’sick.”

“Why did y’go t’work, Bird?” He whispered and gently scooped her up, one shoe and all. She moaned and tucked her face into his chest.

“No fever.”

“Kitten,” he tisked. “Jus’ because y’don’t have a fever doesn’t mean—”

“Shh…” she sighed. “Please,” her voice cracked, “it hurts so much, and m’so close to crying and then it’ll hurt worse,” she begged, hardly more than a whisper escaped her.

Harry pressed his lips together, brought her to her room and laid her on top of the covers. He kissed the center of her forehead. Wrapping her up in so many blankets she had in the basket from when her room was an icebox. She coughed something fierce, making Harry nearly want to cry for her. She moaned and fell back against her pillow and then was so silent Harry would have seriously worried for a second that she had died if he hadn’t been able to hear her quiet snore through her stuffy nose.

After assuring himself she was alive, he went to her kitchen. His eyes scanned briefly looking for something to help him help her. All the spices were all lined neatly in a shallow little tray—like one you would use to carry items on the patio in the summer. Harry quickly removed them all, leaving them on the counter and searched through her drawers and cabinets looking for things that she would need.

Medicine—cold, flu, anti-inflammatory, pain relievers, cough drops. All of it went on the tray. Next, he grabbed one of her water cups filled in the fridge and placed it with the medicine. Had she eaten? He had no idea, but that would have to wait. He would have to order soup from somewhere nearby. Mum swore by chicken noodle. It was medicinal in its own way. He returned to find her still sound asleep.

It was going to kill him to wake her. But his chest hurt knowing she was unwell. “Baby,” he whispered softly. Almost too softly as he set the tray on her dresser. He grabbed a handful of drugs and her water cup and approached her. “Bird, m’love,” he cooed and gently stroked her face again.

“No,” she whimpered. “No, it hurts,” she didn’t open her eyes, but her lashes developed tiny little crystals, breaking his heart as she sniffled.

“No, baby, don’t cry,” he begged stroking her face as lightly as he could. “I have t’give you medicine. Then you go right back t’sleep, I promise, kitten. M’sorry baby. I’m so sorry.”

She cried anyway. Nonetheless, she did as he asked. Harry placed pills at her lips, and she swallowed her medicine, drank three huge gulps of water, all with her eyes closed. Harry put everything on the tray, climbed into her bed, sitting up against the headboard and brought her head down to his lap. Her cries subsided after a few minutes all while Harry hushed her and as carefully as he could massaged her scalp with his fingertips. When the sniffles and tears finally stopped, Harry felt more relieved than when he realized she wasn’t ignoring him, just simply too sick to move.

While she slept, Harry ordered soup from his phone and continued her head massage for a while. When there was a knock on the door for the soup delivery (seven different soups, two chicken noodle, but other options just in case), Harry slowly removed himself from her bed.

He put all the soup on the counter and headed back to her room. He slowly pulled the covers away from her, whatever the cold medicine he gave her was enough to make her boneless. Her body was hard to move but he would do it slowly and carefully to make her feel better.

Even sick, she was adorable. So cute and pretty Harry almost smiled. She wore a plaid dress with large buttons down the center. A shirt below it since the straps were thin and the neckline was low. Slowly he unbuttoned each one and coaxed her sleeping figure out of her outfit. He removed her remaining shoe, then tore the tights off her legs. He made a mental note to buy her another pair. He couldn’t imagine anything more constricting than the elastic digging into her skin when she wasn’t feeling well. His eyes checked her foot, nothing more than a scrape—not too serious of an injury, thankfully.

In just her underwear, he reached beneath her and unhooked her bra, and he swore she sighed with relief as he removed it from her body. He noted a sweatshirt at the end of her bed. He hadn’t seen it before since his focus was on wrapping her in blankets and nothing else. He grabbed it, slid it over her head and she once more sighed, nuzzling into the collar like she was awake. His heart throbbed painfully in his chest as the Under Construction logo stared back at him. When had she taken this? Not that he cared. Did she sleep in it when he wasn’t around? God, she was cute.

“Harry,” she murmured.

Her sweet, adorable self was going to kill him. He practically groaned hearing her sleep-talk about him. Gently he kissed her forehead, wrapped her back up in her blankets, and left the room once more.

The bathroom looked like a crime scene. The shower curtain was half off the rod, some of the plastic rings were broken. Like she crawled to turn the water on and grabbed the curtain to help herself up. His heart clenched at the thought. He propped the vanity cabinet door against the wall. He’d fix that another day when the sound of his drill wouldn’t hurt her aching head. Then he grabbed her other shoe. She even brought her work bag in with her, which was open and spilling onto the floor as well. Some of the papers inside curled from the steam she made from turning the shower on too hot. Good thing she didn’t get in, she would have burned herself.

Everything alright? Louis texted.

She’s real sick. I just gave her some medicine and put her to bed.

Good. She loves to watch Disney movies when she’s sick. Loves ginger ale. Even if it’s not a stomach thing. Swears it soothes her throat. Harry went to the fridge and grabbed a can of soda as well.

Good to know. I’ll put some on. Her head was killing her.

She gets migraines when she’s run down. Harry swore to himself and sighed. He should have known.

Shit. Thanks. I’ll… keep you posted.

Harry returned to her room, she was still asleep, soundly. He felt relieved. He placed her bag by the door and crawled back onto the bed beside her. He continued his scalp massage and eventually, he found himself asleep too.

*

She missed her un-insulated room. It was much too hot, and she thought she was going to combust. She moaned quietly, her head still aching, though she could at least move without fear of passing out or throwing up or both.

Her skin still hurt, and her body ached all over. How did she not have a fever?

“Hey pretty bird,” his voice was low and rumbly in her ear. Good God, did he sound good for her tired body. “Y’awake?” He asked.

She blinked, her head still felt balloon like and not quite attached to her neck as she turned to look up at Harry gazing down at her in the near dark. Everything had a blurry dark gray-blue tint. Like it was about to downpour. “Hmm…” she hummed. Her forehead pounded. She thought her brain was trying to escape. “Harry?” She questioned. She didn’t remember seeing him after school. How did she get home? How did she get in her bed? Was she naked? How did that happen?

There were too many questions and not enough brain power to answer them all.

“Hi baby,” he whispered. Her head might have hurt, and she was sweating beneath the blankets and her Amazonian-like room, but her stomach was working just fine and somersaulted over the softness of Harry calling her baby when she didn’t feel good.

She spent six hours a day, five days a week caring for little ones. Ensuring they were happy, healthy, and learning. She spent an undoubtedly high number thinking about them seven days a week. Since moving out of her parents’ home at eighteen, no one had cared for her or been so gentle with her (especially not Evan) when she was sick since she was young. Not even herself. She tried to push herself up, but Harry gently pushed her back down. “Hey, no, no,” he cooed softly. “Jus’ stay still, yeah?” He asked. “Jus’ rest,” he ordered.

“What…?” She swallowed, the feeling in her throat was dry, sore, painful. She cleared her throat which felt like knives.

“Here,” he slithered lower in her bed and brought the straw of her cup to her lips. The water tasted like chocolate. Not actual chocolate, but the idea of having chocolate prior to getting your period and it tasted so good she wished she could swim in it. He rubbed his thumb on her temple while she sipped, easing the tension she felt in her eyebrows trying to pinch her forehead in the middle. “How are y’feeling, kitten?” His breath was cool and minty. Did he ever smell bad? Probably not. She remembered every unseasonably warm day in October that Harry never smelled gross despite working in the hot sun. What an unfair glitch. She probably smelled like sweat right then. And a cough. Whatever that smelled like. “Y’scared me,” he admitted. “Not quite falling off your roof, but close. Y’do this t’all your boyfriends?” There was a smile in his voice. “S’this a test of some kind?” She snorted and then winced. “Sorry,” he kissed her forehead. “No jokes.”

“Did you undress me?” Was that really the most pressing question she needed answered?

A wave of guilt washed over Harry. He felt his face warm with embarrassment. He was so focused on making her feel better, he hadn’t considered that she wouldn’t want him undressing her unconscious body. “Yes, m’sorry. I jus’ wanted you t’be comfortable,” he frowned. “Did I mess up?” He asked. “M’sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed—”

“No, no,” she said softly and squeezed his hip where her hand rested. She could hear the guilt in his voice and no, she decided, it wasn’t the most pressing question to ask him. She shouldn’t have bothered.  Harry had seen her naked countless times in the last six months. That wasn’t something he should have felt guilty over. “Mi body es su body,” she joked lamely. “I’m sweating,” she said softly and pushed the blankets away from her. Harry helped unravel her from her cocoon. Harry reached across her to grab the remote control to the fan that she normally had blowing on her, but Harry couldn’t bring himself to turn on when she was shivering earlier. He could see her physically deflate once the cool air spilled over her. “I thought I tried showering,” she cleared her throat again. It hurt less since there was water coating her esophagus, but it still ached quite a bit.

“You did,” his frown was still etched on his pretty lips. “Baby, y’scared me so much,” he was so close to her face. “Y’didn’t tell me y’weren’t feeling well. Didn’t answer,” he pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“You’re gonna get sick,” she whispered.

“Then I get sick,” he shrugged. But he was pretty confident in his immune system. Even if he was doing manual labor, she worked about two to three times harder than him. Probably more rundown than he was in comparison. “Why didn’t’ y’tell me?” He asked.

She turned her head to cough, and he continued stroking her hair. “I don’t really think straight when I’m sick,” she explained. “I use every spare bit of energy to focus on the kids at school.”

He was downright pouting in the shadowy dark she could barely see him in. “Y’shouldn’t have gone t’work.”

“You don’t know how much more work it is to make sub plans.”

“I would have made them for you,” he assured her. Her chest ached with love for him so hard it felt like a rib was going to crack. “Would have gone in t’teach them even.”

She smiled and willed her tired, overrun body not to cry at his thoughtfulness. “Thank you,” she whispered. “That’s so sweet to offer.”

“You can’t go t’work tomorrow.”

“I feel so much better… what time is it?”

“S’late. I got y’soup. Are y’hungry?”

She sat up slowly, put one hand to her temple and slid out of bed. “I probably need to eat. I skipped lunch in favor of not dying and napping instead.”

“Miss Bird,” Harry frowned and walked her down the hall to her kitchen. She didn’t turn on any lights and she looked at the six cartons of soup on her counter.

“You got me a lot of soup,” she murmured and squinted to read the labels in the semi dark. The low glow of the clock on her stove said it was a little after nine. She sighed. Tomorrow would be better, right? This was the worst of it. Harry opened a soda can, and she turned to see him offer the ginger ale to her. She stared at him in disbelief. “Did you text Louis?”

“Bird, I was scared. I thought I did something wrong or worse y’were hurt,” she was a little too in love with the thought that was the order of severity for him.

“That’s very sweet,” she sipped the cold soda, the bubbles soothing the ache in her throat the way the water had but it was still sweeter and better even though it made no sense.

“What kind of soup do y’want?” He asked.

“Whatever will make me better to deal with six-year-olds by six AM.”

“Y’cannot be serious,” he shook his head and put two pints of soup into the microwave.

“It’s too late for sub plans. If I try to look at a computer right now, I’m sure I’ll have an aneurysm.”

“Kitten. S’not a good idea. You’ll be sick and tired. The kids will—”

“I’ve done this before, I know what I’m doing!” She protested. “I promise.”

“Jus’ because you’ve done it before means y’should. Nor do I agree with you.”

She nodded. She noted that Harry stopped the microwave before it beeped and opened the door as quietly as possible. He poured the soup into bowls and was cautious not to let the spoons clink against the glass. Her heart swam in the warmth of love that crushed her. Harry saw more of her and cared for her more in the last six months (even in the last six hours) than anyone ever had. “I need to shower,” she said while she welcomed the burns that she was giving her tongue and the inside of her mouth as she ate her soup. It felt soothing in a way she couldn’t quite explain.

Harry took the soup away from her and brought it to the small table she had between her kitchen and living room. He came back and tugged her to the chair in front of her bowl. He ate across from her. In the dark. Only the light from the streetlight barely filtering past her blinds.

“Can I stay in the bathroom while y’do?” He asked referring to her statement on showering.

“I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“M’not sure y’understand how nervous y’made me. I’ll leave after that,” he promised.

I don’t want you to leave. It would have been so easy to say. Harry was so comforting, and he felt so good to sleep next to. It seemed she had been asleep for at least five hours, and she wanted nothing more than to stay snuggled next to him. But he had to work tomorrow, and he needed to be awake at four. “Okay,” she sighed. “It’s really not necessary,” she repeated.

“Mmm,” he hummed.

*

Harry made her blow dry her hair, it was loud and made her head throb, but he refused to let her go to bed with wet hair. “You’ll get an ear infection or something,” he insisted. Which sounded like an old wives’ tale, but his thoughtfulness was too much. He gave her another round of medicine and kissed her forehead once he had her comforter tucked around her in bed. “Good night, Miss Bird,” he said softly. “Please consider not going t’work tomorrow,” he repeated.

“Okay,” she whispered softly.

She felt sleepy, warm, cared for, and comforted. She wished she could open her mouth to ask Harry to stay. It felt sad to see him go. Overwhelmed by how bad she was feeling. She knew he would stay. But it wasn’t fair. He hadn’t showered the day off him, and he would be up in a little under six hours by the time he’d get settled in bed in his own house. “S’matter?” He asked.

“Nothing,” she shook her head. “Just don’t feel good,” she sniffed and tried, tried so hard to push her emotions down so she wouldn’t cry. If she cried, Harry would worry. He would stay and the poor thing probably wanted to go home and sleep in his own bed just as much as she wanted to sleep without pain.

“Hey,” he cooed. “Baby,” and she was done for. Tears spilled over before she could stop them. The dim light from the hall catching those little water crystals like diamonds in the sun. How on earth this beautiful girl made crying look so pretty had to be one of the greatest paradoxes in the world. “No baby, don’t cry,” he swiped the tears away.

“I know you want to go home, but I don’t want you to,” she sniveled.

His heart broke. She was a beautiful grown woman and he loved her so much. She was adorable, just his sweatshirt around her pretty, sick body. Even though Harry had spent hours taking care of her, she still felt like she had to take care of him. “Kitten, I don’t want t’leave you at all. I never want t’leave you, why would y’think that?”

She felt so ridiculous. Sad, tired, sick, run down, exhausted. “Because it’s late and you have to get up early and you haven’t showered and I’m so gross and so much work and it’s—”

“Bird, m’love, shh,” he hushed her ranting and shifted himself on the bed and combed her hair. “Y’can always ask me t’stay,” he whispered. “Shh,” he whispered, shifting her to lay against his chest. He rocked her gently. “M’gonna let y’fall asleep. Then I’ll shower and come right back, yeah?” He offered. “I don’t have t’go anywhere,” he promised.

“Okay,” she sniffled. “I’m sor—”

“Shh,” he kissed the top of her head. “I love you, bird. Go to sleep.”

“I love you too,” she croaked.

“Good, now sleep, baby,” he murmured.

So she had no choice but to listen.

*

Harry’s alarm went off at four. She moaned quietly against his chest. He kissed the top of her head like he’d been awake the whole time waiting to wake her up gently. “M’gonna go home, baby,” that name warmed her. It felt like the medicine he gave her. “S’that okay? I can come back. S’not far. I’ll be quick.” It nearly broke his heart to hear how sad she was last night. He was going to address their living situation as soon as she felt better. This felt like he was going to war and not five minutes around the corner. He could sense her thinking it over in that pretty brain of hers. It spun over in her mind, and she wanted nothing more than to ask but he knew she wouldn’t.

Even in the dark he could see it. “No, that’s alright,” she murmured very softly.

He was already planning on coming back. He shouldn’t have bothered to ask. “Okay, go back t’sleep, bird. I’ll check on you at recess,” he assured her. “How do y’feel?”

“Better.”

It was a little bit of the truth mixed with some untruth. Her head still throbbed, her throat still hurt. But it was better than yesterday. She knew she wasn’t going to have a fever. After a few more mumbled words to Harry, she was only half certain she remembered to say, “I love you,” and only vaguely aware that her front door closed before she was asleep again.

When her alarm went off at six, (what felt like five minutes later from Harry’s departure), she wasn’t the one to turn it off. She groaned softly, turning to find Harry settling her phone back on her nightstand. She frowned immediately, her eyes watering. “You came back,” she whispered keeping up with the thought of Harry going to off to war and not just to his house.

He chuckled quietly, kissed her forehead again. “I couldn’t leave you, kitten. Not when y’feel so poorly, Bird,” he answered. She wondered if she could permanently fix his fingers to her hair and scalp. He smelled so good, again. He showered again and was wearing cologne. Everything about his presence was like a warm hug, physical medicine that would have fixed her up if he wasn’t giving her actual medicine.

“But what about work?”

“I can be late. They know what they’re doing.”

 “I love you, so much.”

He chuckled. “I love you, too, baby.”

“I think I should sleep another hour.”

He nestled further into the pillows, wrapping her close to him, and he kissed her again. “Whatever y’want, kitten.”

*

Harry was insistent on driving in together. He gave her another round of medicine. Got her bag organized, her lunch packed. Hoping it would get her more time to rest while he did those things. He drove her car, parked in her unassigned but assigned parking space. He gave her a kiss on the cheek and headed to the job site promising once more he would check on her at recess.

Other than completely, totally sweet, she thought nothing more of his kindness. There wasn’t enough time to think about it. There was morning work to deal with, attendance to submit, lunch counts, and all the other parts of her morning routine to take care of while her head felt like someone was hammering the inside of her skull repeatedly. By the time the kids had settled onto the carpet, she wasn’t thinking about Harry (as much as she wanted to). Her head hurt and her kids were needy.

So, she did a true double take while Mae was reading the date and schedule for the day to the rest of the class when the door to her classroom opened. Her jaw dropped and many of her students’ eyes followed her gaze.

“Mr. Harry!” Hadley shouted.

Any of the students that hadn’t turned to him all turned to the door at that moment. There was visitor sticker on his chest. He was wearing regular clothes. A long-sleeved shirt, a pair of jeans, and trainers instead of work boots.

The excitement unfolded quickly. Her minor wince made his heart ache for her. It was his fault; he caused the excitement. “Hey, hey, hocus pocus,” he called gently.

“Everybody focus!”

She now understood why Harry found that so attractive when she did that. That was one of the hottest things she’d ever seen him do. (And he did this thing with his tongue that was truly mind-blowing.) She coughed into her elbow and shook her head. “Mr. Harry… We weren’t expecting you,” she said quietly.

He smiled. “I was thinking I haven’t been t’school in a long time and I wanted t’do some learning. Do we have an extra spot for me today?”

The group cheered while she sneezed into her tissue. She wiped her nose daintily, dropped it into the small trash can he had no doubt was filled with tissues already and knew the can was following her around the classroom.

“Miss Bee is sick,” Brayden explained.

Her cheeks turned pink which was great because she needed a bit of color for Harry to allow her to stay and not drag her out the room and back home. She used hand sanitizer attached to her lanyard. “Is she?” He frowned. He thought of the sweet girl crying into his shirt as she fell asleep last night. She looked so normal right now. Pretending. Hiding. Showing up for her students because she loved them beyond her own well-being.

Well, two could play at that game.

“You don’t have to work?” She asked suspiciously.

“Nope,” he said simply. “School’s more important.”

She rolled her lips into her mouth and hid her cough in her elbow again. Harry winked at her and took a seat on her carpet. Janie giggled as his big body overflowed the square he picked. He gave Janie a high five and she was pretty certain one over her ovaries was popping. Everyone was still kind of giggly over his presence. “Think we gotta let Mae continue, yeah?”

Her heart simply burst.

*

During reading time, Harry read a chapter of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory for her. Like he read to the group every day. Harry asked questions. Good questions. Prompted them to think, ask their own questions, make predictions. How could she possibly love him more? He walked around to her groups when she was too tired to check on them. When she coughed too hard, he brought her water cup across the room. He made sure she ate lunch, walked around the perimeter of the playground (stopping at the fence to get a hot cup of tea from Niall to soothe her throat).

When the kids went to specials, she stared at Harry. “You can’t skip work every time I’m sick.”

He simply smiled, continued helping her clean, and organized while they were gone. “Watch me, baby.”

Her cheeks burned.

But truth be told he was exhausted. More exhausted than he thought. She did this every day? Teachers should be paid triple. Double that amount in March. In like a lion out like a lamb was wrong. In like a lion out like a tornado was more like it.

Harry would need a counter next time. She must have repeated directions eight times in the span of a minute. Settling student disputes and sending an email at the same time was a choreographed dance. She punched the straw through three juice boxes while reading the slide off the SmartBoard at the same time. All while feeling like death warmed over.

He knew she was a superhero. He didn’t need proof. But it was something else to watch up close.

“What?” She sniffled. Not once did she complain about her head, the cough, her sneeze. “Do I have snot on my face? I’m gonna crawl in a hole and—”

“You are incredible Miss Bird. Everyone in the world should have t’go t’school for a day. But everyone should have to try a day in your classroom.”

She smiled weakly. “Some days are easier than others.”

“Did I make today easier?”

She nodded. “Yes. So much so. That was….” She shook her head. “Thank you. I needed that.”

He smiled. “Good.”

*

She skipped family dinner. She was sick and wanted to lounge in bed. She was going to be behind in life, work, and at home for a week. But it was the best she could do.

She ate one of the soups Harry left for dinner. Then he came around at six PM. “Hey, pretty bird, did y’nap?”

God, she loved him. She loved him so much it seemed insane that she did anything but say it. There should be no work. No jobs. She should just be required to say “Harry I love you” twenty-four hours a day, three-hundred and sixty-five days a year.

“And had soup,” she murmured into his shirt. He smelled so good. There was a bag over his shoulder.

“Good girl,” he scooped her up behind her thighs, wrapped them around his hips and carried her to her bedroom. He deposited her gently on the bed and then dropped his bag.

“Are you staying?” There was a lot of hope in her voice.

“M-hmm,” he stripped instantly making her heart flutter. He pulled a pair of sweat from his bag and over his legs followed by a T-shirt. “Ratatouille sound good?”

“Louis is a tattletale,” she stated.

He kissed the top of her head and headed to the kitchen to get his own pint of soup. “S’not tattling if we have a safety concern, kitten.”

*

The next day, her brain didn’t feel quite as balloon-like. The cough and sneezing had subsided enough to a manageable level.

But she swore all of it came roaring back when Evan appeared at the end of the day. Like a contagion in his own right. Harry’s gaze was ever-present and warm on the side of her face. Hot, really. She could feel it intensely—more so than the other days. “Milo buddy, watch your shoes.”

She imagined hitting him with one of Milo’s shoes repeatedly. Fortunately, the little one didn’t notice her need for bodily harm.

“Uncle Ev, Miss Bee’s boyfriend came to school yesterday.”

Her heart stopped and she choked on her own spit followed by a massive coughing fit. Evan stared at her with disdain, as did Milo (with curiosity however). She had a hand on her throat, surprised by Milo’s confession. If Evan was bothered by her relationship status, there was no outward expression to indicate it.

“Y’okay, Miss Bee?” Oh Lord.

Harry was suddenly there looking at her like she had a bone protruding. He pulled a water bottle from behind his back. His back pocket?

“Hi Mr. Harry!” Milo bloomed.

“Hey lad, how was kindergarten today? How’s our latest book?” He asked, squeezing his shoulder while avoiding touching Evan.

“I can read Green Eggs and Ham all by myself!”

“S’awesome, lad,” he held his hand out for a high five all while Evan stared in disbelief and she sipped from the bottle.

“Harry helpeded me how to sound out words I don’t know like Miss Bee,” Milo explained.

“Helped, my love,” she said very gently.

He grinned at both Milo and her. Harry hardly looked at Evan. But his eyes couldn’t leave Harry alone. She couldn’t blame him—he was incredible. “I’m sorry. We haven’t met, are you a teachers aid?” He said it condescendingly.

“I wish,” Harry snorted. “Harry Styles. I’m the foreman on the jobsite next door,” he held his hand out for Evan to shake.

“I’m going to work for him when I’m older,” Milo told his uncle.

Could she adopt him? The look of shock on Evan’s face made her want to take a picture.

“Maybe by then I’ll be working for you, lad,” Harry winked.

Could she marry Harry? They’d be a cute little family.

“I’m sorry. I’m lost.”

“Mr. Harry plays with us sometimes,” Milo shrugged casually. Like it was obvious and normal. “Sometimes he volunteers in Miss Bee’s room and fixes everything, Uncle Ev. He knows how to fix everything. He fixed Miss Bee’s desk, her bookshelf, her closet. Maybe he could fix the hole in your wall at home for you!”

Adopt, adopt, adopt, adopt. She bit the inside of her lip to keep from laughing. Harry chuckled quietly. “I’d be happy t’look at it,” he popped one shoulder up knowing full and well that Evan would never ask Harry for help with home improvements.

“Hmm. Right. Well. Do you have any qualifications teaching?”

“No, but I got a niece m’awfully fond of myself,” he said proudly. “And Miss Bee is a pretty good teacher to show me some of the ropes.”

“Mr. Harry is like Miss Bee. He’s in charge of his crew on the site. It’s so cool Uncle Evan.”

She wondered if he would explode. Harry paid no attention to the praise. “Just came t’check on you,” he put a hand on her lower back briefly. “Y’need help today?” He asked. “I’ll meet y’down in your room. Nice meeting you, Evan. Milo, lad, see you later alligator?”

“In a while crocodile!”

The silence that ensued was deafening. “You have a boyfriend that volunteers in your classroom?” He asked. The distaste in his voice was enough to make her skin crawl but she nodded.

“Yes,” she said softly.

“Is that legal?”

She wanted to scream. “Perfectly. He’s got a background check on file, and he doesn’t volunteer the whole day. Yesterday was the first day. I can assure you, he’s a great volunteer, just like any other parent volunteer I’ve had in the past,” it wasn’t unusual for parents to offer volunteer services. Not to the degree Harry was offering them but that probably was the perk of dating him. “The kids like him and his partner, Niall. They say hi to them at recess.”

Evan stared at her. “He spends all that time in your classroom and helping you out for a measly five minutes of a relationship per day?”

She straightened her back, inhaled as best she could through her stuffy nose, and turned her attention to Milo. “I’ll see you tomorrow, my love, alright?” She grinned sweetly. “Evan,” she muttered and headed back inside.

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The weather was getting warmer. Harry got to see her springy, flowery dresses, the bright colors, and so many pretty ribbons in her hair it truly felt like dating a princess.

“All my friends love to line up quickly and quietly!” She called at recess. Harry watched with awe from the fence on his break. He cherished these moments. When the building was done, he wouldn’t get to see her in action. (Although, he wasn’t kidding when he told her, he very much planned to volunteer when she was sick.)

The little ones hurried to line up. Miss Bee was exhausted once more. Harry felt terrible. It seemed never-ending. Every time she got a small reprieve, something else came up. She wasn’t sick, thank God, but she was tired. Tired to her core. Snappy, when she didn’t mean to be. Harry paid no attention to her sharpness; he’d be snappy too if he did everything that she did with a smile plastered on her face. He rarely asked her what she wanted for dinner anymore. He paid attention to recipes she mentioned in passing for inspiration. As casually as he could, he spoke about food in a way that didn’t sound like planning or asking. If she requested something, he did his best to make it or order it. But it was his goal that he took very seriously to take away the decision from her fatigued mind.

In the bouts of never-ending exhaustion and stress, if he had something important to ask her, he waited until morning. Harry could have been mid-conversation with one of the members of the crew and he would take off from the jobsite just so he could walk her to her classroom (he also carried items she might have had with her as needed). Harry started spending the nights at her house more frequently. Almost every Saturday night through Tuesday night. She stayed with him almost all the other nights. Rarely were they sleeping alone anymore. Asking her a question at night often led to exhausted tears. Then that snappiness that she couldn’t help, followed by more overwhelmed tears that made her feel like a terrible girlfriend. Harry always hushed her, promised her she was okay and didn’t need to answer right then.

Almost all of April was spent prepping for her sister’s wedding shower, bachelorette, and parts of the wedding. (After preparing for the following day and leaving her classroom, that is.)

“I think it’s ridiculous you can’t go,” she frowned while he helped her iron the T-shirts for the bachelorette party. They were seated on her living room floor, in front of all the tools, materials, and things her sister insisted on having.

She peeled the excess lettering off the plastic part of the fanny packs everyone would get as well for the trip. Each girl would get a welcome gift and there was simply too much in it and a lot that required her craftiness. But she did as her sister asked without questioning it because she loved her more than anything.

He smiled. “S’okay, kitten. I would jus’ be watching you the whole time. I’d tell everyone that y’were upstaging your sister and then y’family wouldn’t like me much anymore.”

She rolled her eyes and felt the warmth flood her cheeks. “If someone can’t come, I’m going to push for it.”

“I don’t want t’mess with the table arrangements, Bird. S’no big deal. M’happy t’hang out where needed. I get family dinner on Wednesdays now. S’no big deal,” he promised. “I’ll hang in the hotel and wait for you,” he shrugged. “M’sure I can come to the after party, yeah? I get it, s’hard t’arrange tables for a wedding. I don’t want t’add any stress t’your sister’s plate.”

“Yeah, but…” she sighed and looked at him with a frown. “I wanted to dance with you in pretty clothes, and the venue is so pretty. Like I always told her I wanted to get married there but it’s quite expensive. But then—”

He smiled immediately. She was adorable and Harry couldn’t think of anyone better than her. He was lucky. So utterly lucky it ached him to the core. “There will be plenty of weddings, Bird,” he assured her and tugged her away from her task. He put one hand on her lower back, cupped her hand to his chest with the other and slowly swayed—no music at all to guide them. “We don’t need pretty clothes t’dance,” he promised. She felt her face flush and he kissed her forehead. Then she dropped her head on his shoulder, sighed contentedly. He was right, of course. Gently, he kissed her hairline again. “I love your house,” he murmured.

“Me too,” she sighed.

“I want you t’move into mine,” his voice was quick to say it. She tensed ever so slightly. It wasn’t an afternoon or evening conversation. Her brain was tired, and she was busy. “Sorry, I didn’t mean t’ask y’that till after school let out for the summer. I don’t like asking y’questions after work.”

She shook her head. “You want to live with me?” She asked in disbelief.

“I basically do now,” he shrugged and gently moved her around the kitchen. “Do y’think m’gonna find out y’snore or something? I already know y’do,” he pressed a kiss to her temple.

He dipped her. Actually dipped her. Like they were on a dance floor. But it was so much better without other people there. She stared at him when he pulled her back up. “I love you,” she shook her head in disbelief. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in love before. I thought I was, but this…” Harry smiled, kissed her softly, and waltzed her around her sweet little house. For a moment, her head was back on his shoulder but then suddenly lifted her head from his chest. Her gaze met his, accusation in her tone and all over her adorable features—pinched brow, pursed lips. “What do you mean you don’t ask me questions after work?”

*

With the warmer weather, they went for walks in the evening, did yard work in both their yards, and went to her little ones’ baseball games. “Hi Miss Bee!” Some of the kids were a little older than her group that Harry had gotten so accustomed to. They had her for kindergarten over the last three years. “S’like you’re a celebrity,” he chuckled beside her while she waved back.

They sat along the fence surrounding the field. It was hard to believe the school year was rapidly winding down. “Hi Mr. Harry!” Someone shouted.

She smiled. “See, you’re a celebrity too,” she patted his knee as a few of the students in her class ran up to them. “Hi gals and pals,” she giggled.

Milo, Kaleb, Janie, and Kai were among the ranks. They were each wearing a little baseball uniform that looked so cute on them. “Did you see me throw the ball?” Kaleb asked, bouncing up and down gleefully. Hands perched on the arm rest of her chair. She nodded with a bright smile.

“Sure did,” she winked at him. “Janie, nice hit you had,” she answered.

“It went so far,” she said knowingly. She leaned in toward her ear to tell her a secret. “Further than all the boys,” Janie whispered to her. She giggled in response.

“Kai, y’had a nice catch too,” Harry gave him a fist bump. “Milo lad, y’gonna be an all-star pitcher one day?” He asked. At their age, the kids threw three pitches before the parent-coaches stepped in to lay out easy tosses for the kids to hit. But even still, Milo did a pretty good job. He beamed at Harry’s compliment.

“All of our brothers are playing right now,” Janie explained. “Mommy said we couldn’t be hooligans. But we saw you and wanted to say hi!” She explained excitedly.

“So cool,” she rubbed her hand on Janie’s arm, she giggled. “I don’t think you guys have it in you to be hooligans,” she wrinkled her nose. Harry chuckled.

“Are you guys married?” Kaleb asked.

She laughed and turned her gaze away nervously for a moment. It was barely six months into their relationship; she didn’t want Harry to feel any kind of external pressure to move things along. She was completely happy with the way things were and didn’t need anything to change. Dating Harry was lovely and if it progressed to that point then she would be the luckiest woman in the world. She didn’t need her little group of students to make him feel like he had to—

“Not yet,” Harry chuckled and patted her knee before giving it a squeeze. She felt her face warming with color and the way Harry smiled at her she knew she was as red as the pants he liked most. She turned away again to cough. He winked at her as she turned back to her audience.

“Miss Bee, do you want to come get ice cream with us?” Kai asked.

Harry gave her knee another gentle squeeze knowing that she was a little overwhelmed and that she was absolutely going to say yes to them. “Ooh, that sounds like fun,” she agreed standing from her camping chair. “Do you want anything Mr. Harry?” She offered and assured herself she had her wallet as she stepped away from their chairs.

“Surprise me,” he smiled. Janie grabbed hold of one of her hands and Milo took the other. Almost like it was almost instinctual.

“Oh, please tell me you’re not bothering your poor teacher after hours. Doesn’t she do enough for you lot?” Someone called. She laughed and shook her head.

“No bother at all!” She responded. Harry knew that even though she often wore herself thin worrying and caring for them, she really meant it when she said they were no bother.

*

Harry was in her room fixing all the drawers that tended to stick, but moreover, specifically refused to open in the humidity. Now that they were winding down their final days until summer break, she was taking down decorations, putting away student work, and organizing things to be tucked away for the summer. That is, Harry asked for orders, and she supplied them even though she had done it herself for three years. Harry didn’t mind, of course, but with the end of the school year in sight, there seemed like there was more to do than ever on top of her regular prep-work. Her sister’s wedding didn’t help ease any tension, but she told herself that she couldn’t worry about the wedding while she was in the classroom.

“I’m just going to make some copies!” She called from the doorway of her room as she headed down the hall for the nearby machine.

“M’gonna fix the door handle on the bathroom, yeah?” He called back.

“My hero,” she sang. He chuckled.

The copier jammed frequently due to the humidity too many times to count. She should have given up. Cut her losses and tried again after it had time to cool down. Right before she left, that was when she should have made the copies. Then the pages wouldn’t be so damp and warm. It was a miracle they were dry enough for the kids to use the following morning. Why the copy room lacked AC wasn’t a mystery to her underfunded school, but she felt it should have been a priority. “Temperamental, annoying piece of—”

“Hey.”

She dropped the papers she was holding and spun around. She blinked. Before she could even get herself to form a greeting, she was simply shocked. “How did you get in here?” She asked instead of hello or hi. Quickly, to distract herself, she knelt to scoop up some of the papers.

“I signed in at the office. They let anyone in when you know Miss Bee,” he said with a shrug and a shy smile.

She cleared her throat. She wasn’t afraid of Evan by any means, but she didn’t want to be around him either. Especially alone. It was obvious he made her uneasy. He had this way of making her feel like shit about herself, a way of making her think she was a little crazy for doing all that she did. It was how he presented his argument. It was how he got her to believe she was doing too much and not enough for him.

And he did it again. It was her fault that he was there. He knew her; could give the main office specific enough details that they would let him in because it was Miss Bee and of course she wouldn’t mind another person around. The more the merrier! She was sure the secretaries at the front assumed she wouldn’t mind in the slightest.

He probably assured them that he could find his own way to the classroom—no need to call down and ask her. I’m sure she’s busy with something at the moment. I’ve been there a few times, actually. My nephew Milo is in her class—I know, such a small world! That businessman persona was sure to be smooth talking the older women who printed his visitor pass and sent him on his way. He was probably still on the visitor list because she never thought he would come willingly. It was true, too, he had been there a few times during her first two years; he knew his way enough. Enough to find her anyway. It was her fault that he could just go along to find her. All because of her sweet demeanor.

She struggled to gather the papers. A slight shake in her fingers from being overwhelmed, caught off-guard. “What are you doing, Evan?” She asked. The copier was loud enough that unless she started yelling too loud and set off alarm bells, Harry wasn’t going to hear her.

“I was asking Milo more about Harry,” he stuffed his hands into his pockets.

She snorted. “Getting info from a kindergartener is a good way to get bad info,” she said knowingly.

“Glad you agree, that’s why I’m here.”

Shit. She stared at him. His ability to use her own logic against her was uncanny. “Why?”

“You have time for a boyfriend?” He asked, the accusation settled in his tone. “Milo doesn’t shut up about you two. My sister-in-law doesn’t seem to care. But I think it’s weird.”

“They wanted to hang out with Harry first,” she stated, it was a dumb thing to say but Evan always made her feel flustered. He snorted.

“You realize how ridiculous that sounds, right?”

She did. “Did you have to come here while I’m working? Like honestly, Evan, what are you doing here?”

“Well, it’s not like I can catch you at another time. You’re always working.” She abandoned her copies immediately, a shake of her head. She had this argument with him too many times when they were together. She wouldn’t have it any longer—especially now that they weren’t a couple. She made her way back toward her classroom. Except, he grabbed her wrist and sighed. “Sorry, no. That’s not how I wanted this to go… I just think it’s unfair.”

“What is unfair?” She yanked her hand from his grip.

“That you can suddenly have enough time for a boyfriend when you never had time for me,” he took a step closer to her. Was there hurt in his eyes? No. She devoted every spare minute she had to him. There was no way he was hurt. He didn’t attend school events like Harry did, he didn’t take the care or time to know her students. She shook her head, turned to her classroom again. “You’re really going to say nothing?”

“I had time for you. You didn’t like that I had time for other things too,” she said over her shoulder.

“Stop walking away from me,” he followed after her.

“I’m busy, Evan. Keep up or leave. You’re in my school, you’re gonna have to play by my rules.”

“You’re always busy.”

“I am,” she agreed.

“You don’t think that all this is detrimental to your relationship? Any relationship? Look what happened to us.”

She continued walking toward the classroom. Knowing that Harry was nearby was comforting. She knew that he wouldn’t take one second of Evan’s intimidation. Evan reached for her arm again. “Evan don’t touch me,” she pulled away.

“Christ, babe. It’s not like I’m going to hurt you,” he rolled his eyes. She ignored him and continued to the classroom. But he snagged her arm again. She glared at him. “Is he in there?”

“Harry? Yeah,” thank God. She wrenched her arm away once more. But as she entered the classroom it was much too silent. She closed her eyes. Squeezed them tight just briefly, hoping that just mentally wishing for Harry to reappear would make it so. Harry must have run to his car to grab something. Or maybe he was helping one of her coworkers—he had done that a few times since he started helping her regularly after school. Fuck. Evan glanced around the room while she stared at him. “You seriously came to my job to tell me I suck as a girlfriend?”

“You didn’t suck as a girlfriend,” he rolled his eyes. “You’re so dramatic. I just think you put too much effort into your kids and not enough into our relationship.”

“And how much energy did you want me to put into our relationship?” She snapped.

“More than you did,” he grumbled. “I was constantly jockeying for position to be first in your life.”

She shook her head. “No, I put you first over and over. I left events early. I scheduled you first and foremost. I won’t back out on a promise I made to my kids. There is too much instability in their lives—” She started cleaning up the desks as she always did and he followed her much too closely until she was backed into the corner of her room where the art supplies were. He loomed over her.

She felt frozen. Still not quite scared for her well-being but worried that he was going to do something rash. “You put up this front that you’re this sweet, innocent victim. That you’re a martyr because of your profession. You picked it, sweetheart. You are nothing but manipulative. You act all selfless doing everything for others, and it’s not selfless. It’s selfish. You put everyone ahead of the person you’re with. You act like this classroom is the only thing in the world that matters. One day Harry’s going to see it, just like I saw it and then you’ll be alone again. The way you should be. You’ve got everyone fooled, but not me.”

Behind her eyes stung with tears that were desperate to get out. What was the point of this? She wasn’t scared. Evan wasn’t stupid enough to hurt her in a public town building, much less a school. But he was making her nervous, that was for sure.

And…

Well…

Was there some truth to what he said?

Whether he was or not, she wasn’t going to let him bully her literally into the corner of the room. There was no place for bullies in her classroom. She swallowed back the emotion she felt, the fear and ache that she wasn’t good enough for Harry blooming and spreading in her stomach and chest.

She could faintly hear Harry’s voice in another room, and she wondered if Evan heard it too. She backed up a step purposefully. She knocked over the rolling cart that contained every marker, pencil, and crayon that she owned. It clattered loudly, the cart broke in a few places, and she sighed heavily to herself with equal parts, relief and frustration.

Whatever conversation with Harry ended abruptly. “Kitten, y’okay? Did y’try moving something on your own? Y’should have called for me, Bird. I was jus’ next door helpin—” His voice was hurried but he came to a full stop in the entryway from the hall near the bathroom. His eyes narrowed at her predicament, backed into the corner of her room. “Evan,” his voice was flat.

“Harry,” he greeted in the same monotone voice and took one small step away from completely looming over her. “Just stopped by to say hi to our girl.”

Harry didn’t speak. She knew he hated the idea of him saying our referring to anything that had to do with her. She definitely wasn’t Evan’s by any stretch of the word. Harry quickly crossed the room and wedged himself between her and Evan. Harry searched her eyes for less than five seconds then turned to Evan again. “Did you hurt her?” He snapped.

Evan laughed. “Don’t get all—”

“Did you fucking hurt her?” He repeated his voice was low, dark. She never heard it like that before. Not even like the first time when he asked about Evan. Not when he yelled at her for climbing her roof in the rain.

“Jesus Christ, no, I didn’t fucking hurt her,” he rolled his eyes. Like this was a joke.

Harry stared at him silently; his mouth pressed into a line. Then he turned to her. “Did he hurt you?” He asked gently.

“Oh, for the love of—”

“No,” she shook her head. “He didn’t.”

Harry searched, her face again. Not that he didn’t believe her, but he could see her trying to get out of this and waiting until he was gone to tell him the truth. “Evan, you need to leave.”

“You’re not in charg—”

“No, but you’re clearly making her uncomfortable,” he took another step forward just so she was behind him. Her stomach flipped at the protection she felt just by him standing in front of her. She silently crooked a finger through his beltloop. Like that was really going to stop him should she decide to do something. “Stick to pick up,” he grumbled. “Leave her alone.”

“Then you should have to leave too.”

She opened her mouth to protest but Harry answered faster. “Fine by me. I’ll wait in the parking lot for her,” he shrugged. “Makes no difference to me.”

“You’re really going to stay with her,” he chuckled but there was no humor in the tone. “She can’t give you all her attention. She never will. Everything in her life will come before you.”

“She’s a person, not a slave,” Harry reminded him. She tugged a little on the belt loop.

“You’re pathetic,” he snorted.

“I’m pathetic? I don’t show up uninvited to my ex-girlfriend’s place of work and antagonize her. Are you jus’ realizing you made a mistake letting her go? Too little, too late. The only good thing you did for her in your relationship was leave her. Sorry you’re jus’ realizing that you’re an idiot. They start teaching common sense in kindergarten if you need a place to start. But for now, get away from her, and get the fuck out.”

She tugged on his belt loop a little harder—especially when he pulled to step forward. “You’re fucked. Both of you,” he shook his head and headed for the door to the path.

“Hey!” Harry called and pulled from her small hold on his beltloop as Evan made his way toward the parking lot. “Did you ever think you weren’t worth being put first? That’s why you felt that way? Because I can tell you,” Harry shook his head. “I’ve never felt like second place in her presence.”

Evan rolled his eyes, and perhaps appropriately flipped Harry off. “Stupid fucking prick,” he growled pulling the door shut hard. It made a loud cracking noise. She bounced in surprise. Harry didn’t turn sour often. Or at least, not since she had known him. It seemed the only time he raised his voice or got extra growly in his tone, was when she wasn’t okay or he was worried about imminent harm. He turned to her again and cupped her face so delicately. Like she was made of crystal. It was so gentle she almost burst into tears. “Bird, do not lie t’me,” he said pointedly. “Did he hurt you?” he whispered keeping his voice calm but there was a shake of frustration as well that she knew he was struggling to keep at bay.

She shook her head. “He grabbed my arm to get my attention. Not to hurt me,” she promised. “I would have told you if he hurt me, I swear,” she put one hand over his against her cheek and gave his shaking fingers a squeeze. “I promise,” she whispered.

Harry shook his head, sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. “What the fuck,” he whispered to himself. Then he crushed her to him. She inhaled his shirt deeply. Harry smelled like clean laundry despite the fact he was sweating during work. A mystery. Completely unfair, but she would marvel in it anyway. He kissed the top of her head and squeezed her tightly. She released a long breath, wrapping her arms up around his back. “Can’t leave y’alone for a second,” he mumbled into her hair.

A breath of laughter escaped her lips. “Thank you.”

He shook his head. She could feel him shaking from the inside out, from his core and outward. “Do not thank me,” he mumbled and squeezed her tighter somehow.

She rubbed his back gently. “Let’s go home,” she suggested pulling away to look at him as he struggled to remain calm.

“Hmm,” he hummed. “You need t’finish your copies, yeah? And I left the drawers a mess. I finished the bathroom handle, but Bethany came looking for help with moving a table, so I went t’help. I don’t want t’leave your room a mess, Bird. You’ll have t’pick up all these pencils and markers by yourself tomorrow morning.”

She shrugged a shoulder, holding his hand still and trailed her fingers up and down his forearm with the other hand. “I’ll put caution tape up tomorrow morning or something. The kids will love it. We’ll say it’s a project for Mr. Harry and we can look at it tomorrow,” she offered. “I’d rather go home, eat dinner, go for a walk, and lay around with you,” she suggested. “If that’s okay with you.”

A small twitch of a smile poked at the corners of his mouth. “Y’drive a hard bargain, Miss Bee,” he mumbled. But she knew it wasn’t really something she had to argue for. She squeezed his hand and hurried to her desk to scribble a few notes regarding her extra messy room for the custodians. “If that ever happens again,” Harry murmured as they headed up the path toward their cars, “please scream for me,” he squeezed her hand.

“It won’t,” she assured him.

“How do you know?”

“He’s just… jealous,” she shrugged. “He’s not…” she sighed. “He’s not dangerous.”

But wasn’t he? Because there was that tiny little voice that sounded an awful lot like Evan telling her how selfish she was and how Harry would see it eventually. Just the way he saw it.

“I don’t like him,” Harry stated.

“Tell Louis and Eleanor, they’ll get you a bumper sticker,” she muttered trying to ignore that voice.

He laughed. A beautiful, warm, lovely sound that she wanted to record and play like her favorite song. When they reached her car, she was silent again trying with everything in her to get herself to believe she wasn’t the problem. It was Evan, right? It had to be. Harry never once complained.

Was she selfish?

“Kitten,” he said gently and opened her driver’s door. “Whatever he said, don’t believe it,” he promised. “I meant it. I’ve never felt like second place. You love me and I know it. S’the best thing t’ever happen to me,” he sounded so reassuring and it made her stomach flip. She looked away from his face in fear of crying for being so seen without having to say anything at all. “Don’t believe him,” he almost sounded like he was begging. He turned her face back toward him and he searched her eyes for a moment. “Please.”

She nodded. “See you at home?” She asked quietly.

The sigh that left his mouth was filled with relief but his eyes seemed a little more worried. “See you at home.”

*

They were working on stuff for her sister’s wedding. A random assortment of boxes in her car that she was now responsible for, for the remainder of the month. Louis and Harry were coming back and forth from the driveway carrying way too many things. “How’d you get this in your car?” Louis grunted from one end of a particularly heavy box. “Is this bricks? Is she building the venue?”

She frowned knowing Harry was exhausted from his own laborious day at work and he looked a little pained at the other end of the box. “I think I blacked out,” she shrugged.

Harry frowned instantly. “I would have come with you, Bird,” he murmured.

Eleanor sifted through some of the items. “What do we have to do?”

“Go through them,” she sighed. “Make a list of each box and what’s in it so they can find it at the venue.”

“What is your sister doing to plan this wedding?” Louis asked carrying a much lighter box inside.

She shrugged, rolled her eyes. “I don’t know. Nothing maybe? I think I planned it.”

“I think you planned it too,” Eleanor agreed. “What is this even for?” She pulled out a set of tubes attached by a string and shook her head.

“I don’t even know anymore. I can’t wait for this wedding to be over,” she rubbed a hand over her face. Her visit from Evan hadn’t left her mind. Doing too much for everyone else in her life was exhausting.

He had a point… didn’t he?

Harry kept looking at her. Like he could read her mind. It was as if he knew she was worrying about their relationship. Something he had assured her needed no worry at all. He gave her hand a squeeze as he headed outside again with Louis. They would be going out back next to finally put together the elaborate archway. It would need more hands—hence Louis and Eleanor.

“What’s wrong?” Eleanor asked as they made their way to the backyard.

“What do you mean?” She smirked. Pretending everything was fine like when she didn’t feel good at school.

Except it was a lot harder to hide her nervousness from her best friend than it was for a group of six-year-olds who only really cared if they were going to get to color that day. Eleanor looked at her suspiciously. “You’re acting weird. Harry keeps looking at you like you’re going to run.”

She opened her mouth to respond but at the same time Louis marched into the backyard, his eyes blazing mad. He grabbed her by the hand and pulled her back inside. Harry passed her on her deck where she could barely get a hey! out. He sighed, shoved his hands in his pockets, and went to Eleanor.

“What are you doing!?” She frowned at her other best friend as he continued tugging her all the way to her bedroom. He pushed her to the bed. “Louis, we don’t have time for—”

“Evan’s a piece of shit,” he stated, matter-of-factly. He paced in front of her. She pressed her lips into a line.

“Tattletale,” she mumbled of her boyfriend and looked at her hands in her lap.

“You’re thinking of cutting Harry off. Aren’t you?” He asked. “After all he’s done. After every single thing he’s done that’s shown and told you how much he adores you? You’re just going to give up because that stupid prick said you weren’t good enough?”

She didn’t look at her friend. She stared at a spot on the ground. “I’m really tired, Louis,” she said softly.

“You’re not leaving this room until you promise me that you’re not going to break up with him.”

She tilted her head back and then flopped back onto her bed. “Evan… he made some good points,” she murmured.

“Jesus Christ,” Louis growled and rubbed his hands over his face. “No. No he didn’t,” he said and dropped onto the bed beside her. He laid with his head opposite hers so they were right beside one another. “Why would you believe him? We hate him. I’m your best friend. Eleanor is your best friend. Harry loves you. Why would you believe some stupid, selfish dick?”

Her eyes watered. “I don’t know,” she sighed. “Because… I do think my classroom is the most important place in the world.”

“So what?!” Louis sounded exhausted. “Harry seems to agree.”

“But he shouldn’t have to,” she whispered. “He shouldn’t have to come to my room every day after school and be content with laminating and cutting up paper just to spend time with me. He shouldn’t have to fix my house up and live out of a suitcase half the week. He shouldn’t have to go to little dance recitals and baseball games because I love my kids. He should be able to go to my sister’s wedding and not have to help put it together,” she listed, her voice cracking over and over as she spoke.

Louis sat up, briefly left to get a few tissues from her living room, and returned closing the door behind him. He dabbed her eyes gently. “Don’t do this,” Louis whispered. “You’re going to break Harry’s heart. That’s a fact. But you’ll break yours too and I can offer to kill Evan all day long, but I won’t be able to offer that if you break your own heart,” he teased. She snorted, sat up, grabbed the tissues from him. “Don’t do this,” he begged. The same way Harry quietly pleaded for her to forget everything Evan said yesterday afternoon. “If you break up with him, I’m going to be his best friend and you’ll be stuck seeing him all the time anyway. I’ll make him come over all the time. You won’t get rid of him,” he promised making her laugh despite her tears.

“What if I’m not enough?” She whispered eventually.

“People like Evan project their own insecurities on perfect people like you. I hope his pillow is always warm,” he grumbled. She snickered quietly. “You went two years without sex. You really want to do that again? Eleanor said that you’re really enjoying it,” he nudged her.

She shook her head, cheeks pinking under the assumption. “Your girlfriend is a gossip.”

“Don’t break his heart,” Louis repeated.

“I won’t.”

“You promise?” He asked. “Not over this,” he amended. “If he cheats on you or something, fine. Or if he buys the wrong kind of pizza. I’ll be the one driving the getaway car.”

She rolled her eyes. “Harry would never cheat on me.”

“Good; then you’re in it for the long haul.”

“The wrong kind of pizza?” She laughed.

“I don’t know. He’s perfect for you. There’s very little I think he could do that would make you break up with him. You want to break up and it has literally nothing to do with him.”

She wrinkled her nose and looked at the door for a moment. “Did you get all that El?” She asked.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about!” But her voice drifted away as if she was walking down the hall.

“Gossip,” she repeated.

“Pull yourself together, you look like you just cried. I’ll go tell Harry the good news,” he offered. “And if Evan ever comes to your classroom again uninvited, call the police.”

“Seems a bit dramatic,” she muttered and went to her bathroom to try and get the redness around her eyes to disappear.

After a few moments of deep breaths and rational thoughts that reminded herself that she was being ridiculous, there was a knock on the bathroom door. There was only one person present who would politely knock and wait. She pulled the door open and poor, sweet Harry looked nervous as hell. She imagined he spent the last few minutes pacing her backyard refusing Eleanor’s offer to go listen in through the door.

“Louis said you’re not going t’break up with me, but I’d really like you t’tell me,” he ran a hand through his hair.

She tilted her head at him. “Harry,” she said gently.

“I jus’…” he swallowed. “I love you so much, Bird. S’like the easiest thing I’ve ever done, and I don’t want y’stupid ex t’make y’believe that y’aren’t worth—”

“After the wedding, can I move in with you?” She interrupted. Harry’s voice broke off mid-word and he simply stared at her in disbelief. “Maybe we can rent out this place and then… I don’t know what comes after that. I know it’s all very fast, moving in together within a year and all the time we spend together and all the time that’s spent on my class but—”

Harry yanked her to him and took a breath that sounded like he had been holding it since the afternoon. “Yes,” he nodded, kissed the top of her head. “Whatever y’want. M’at y’service,” he assured her, his voice full of relief.

She smiled. “I love you,” she reminded him.

Another breath left him full of crushing relief. His shoulders sank and he squeezed her hard. “Yeah? Good,” he chuckled awkwardly. “That’s… that’s really good.”

She giggled. “You’re a tattletale.”

“It was a matter of safety.”

“For who?”

“Your heart… and mine.”

 “Yeah… that’s true.”

He kissed her temple and squeezed her tight again. “I love you,” he sighed, quietly shutting up the little voice that sounded like her ex in her head.

“I love you too.”

*

“Miss Bee, can’t we have you again next year?” Amara asked while she licked the popsicle that her teacher brought in. Her room was going to be a sticky mess. Exactly how the last day of school should have looked, she thought.

She grinned. “Well, I have to prepare a whole bunch of new kindergarteners for first grade. And don’t you think they’ll be lucky to have me?” She winked.

Milo’s lower lip jutted out and his eyes were shiny with tears while his popsicle melted on his hand. Zara frowned too. “But we love you, Miss Bee. We don’t want to go to first grade.”

She pouted. “Well… I love you all, too. I’ll still be in this room. You can always come say hi to me,” she promised. “I still go to baseball games, soccer games, and dance recitals,” she reminded them. “You guys are too smart for me now, you’ll have to come back and teach me all about first grade,” she said knowingly. “Don’t be sad, guys and gals, this is a good thing,” but even her heart was heavy because of the sweet, good group that was leaving her. At this age, out of sight out of mind was very likely. Plus, this was the class that brought Harry to her life. She wasn’t going to forget about them any time soon. “If you’re all going to be sad and grumpy then we can’t have a final day surprise,” she shrugged.

Twenty pairs of eyes all turned to look at her with rapt attention. “Surprise?” Kai asked, expectation glittering in his eyes.

She shrugged again. “I don’t know, the surprise is for happy almost-first graders. I can’t have my surprise thinking this is a sad day not a party day.”

They all giggled and licked their popsicles in various tropical colors. They brightened a bit more with each pass of the word surprise. “What kind of surprise?” Brayden asked.

But said surprise was knocking on the door. Everyone gasped in excitement as Harry and Niall entered the room. “Miss Bee, where are the kindergarteners?!” Niall asked dramatically, putting his hand over his brow and scanning the room like they couldn’t be seen.

She smiled as the class laughed. “I don’t know Mr. Niall. I think they’re all grown up now.”

“Oh wow, Mr. Niall, I think we got a new crew ready for the site,” Harry said looking at the tables of little ones eating their popsicles and their final little project in front of them (a summer bucket list; made to look like a sand pail and shovel that Harry had helped cut out the night before).

“Mr. Harry,” Janie giggled tugging on his pant leg as he paused near her. “We’re still too little to work on a construction paper job.”

He laughed, gave Kaleb a fist bump as he held his hand out when Harry walked by. She knew that Evan would say something like your hand’s covered in popsicle and this suit is expensive. But Harry didn’t mind at all.

“Mr. Harry do you remember when I dressed up as a doctor and Miss Bee got a bloody nose?” DJ asked.

Harry chuckled and she rolled her eyes. “Yeah, lad. I remember.”

“I don’t think I want to be a doctor anymore.”

“No? DJ, you’d be a great doctor,” she frowned.

“Miss Bee, my popsicle got on my dress!” Zara gasped. She crouched beside Zara to help with the wardrobe fiasco. Niall took a seat between Mae and Hadley. They both giggled at his large body crunched into a small chair and Harry grabbed a popsicle from the cooler filled with ice that she lugged all by herself to her classroom because she arrived earlier than Harry expected that morning. He passed one to Niall and then sat across from DJ.

“What do y’want t’be instead, DJ?” Harry asked.

“I’m going to be a teacher, like Miss Bee,” he said knowingly.

Her attention snapped toward him. She swallowed hard, the emotion catching in her throat. She wasn’t going to cry. She muttered it to herself this morning while she walked in with a box to fill with items that needed to come home for the summer. She said it to herself last night while Harry brushed his teeth beside her while she did her skincare routine. She wasn’t going to cry.

She wasn’t going to cry.

“Me too!” Mae bounced excitedly.

“Me three!” And around the room almost all of them said they wanted to change their profession to teaching.

“I still have my future crew and y’can’t have them Miss Bee,” Harry winked at her and high-fived Milo across the table.

“That’s very sweet, my loves,” she frowned. After her whole speech telling them not to be sad, she couldn’t help but feel the emotion wracking her body. Harry simply smiled at her, licking his popsicle so his lips turned blue.

“Miss Bee,” Tyler raised his hand. “Mr. Harry has a surprise from us.”

Now her attention moved from the wardrobe malfunction (nothing a little water couldn’t fix) and looked at Harry.

Harry, who painstakingly endured countless long afternoons in her classroom, post-work, since he started dating her. Who sat through so many chaotic family dinners. Listening to what could only be described as elementary school-bad chorus concerts, watched ridiculously silly soccer games, and carried her to bed after falling asleep on the couch. All to do it over and over without complaint every week. Harry, who was going to help her carry boxes to her sister’s wedding despite that he wasn’t even going to be attending. The kindest, most patient man she ever met. “Does he?” Her voice felt weak.

He winked at her. Niall dropped his popsicle stick into the trash can and moved to open the outside door. “You’re all little traitors,” she whispered in exaggeration to the group. They all giggled in response.

Harry and Niall came through the door, and she swore her heart stopped.

“Isn’t it cool Miss Bee?!” Janie clapped excitedly. “We all helped. Mr. Harry came to art class.”

A rocking chair was painted white, Miss Bee written across the top, each slat painted like a pencil, pen, crayon, ruler. The seat was painted like a piece of lined paper. It was just like the ones she found on Pinterest. Just like the one she didn’t have time to make nor the money to buy it.

“Oh,” she sucked her lip into her mouth. Put a hand on her chest to keep her heart from bruising against the inside of her ribs.

“Mr. Harry had us sign it,” Kai said and pointed to the slats that lined the arm rest, the legs as well. Her eyes welled with tears. “Harry,” she whispered. He winked at her. The time it must have taken, the planning, the energy, how he pulled it off so that not one of the little ones squealed, she had no idea.

“What do you guys think? We need to break it in with one last story time?” Niall said cheerfully and the little ones cheered once more and headed to her colorful carpet while he carried it over. They all admired it, pointing out their names to Niall while he gave her a moment to collect her emotions.

“Y’know,” Harry cleared his throat from beside her as she picked up some of the popsicle sticks and quickly wiped down the tables that were undeniably sticky with the melted fruit juice with a paper towel. It would need a second pass with the disinfectant wipes before the custodians moved all her stuff into the hall to wax the floors.

She looked at Harry, his smile gentle as could be while he watched her. Like she was the center of the universe. The feeling of being completely adored and loved was so warm she thought the kids and Niall would overheat just being present in the same room. His gaze dropped to her hand while he gently rubbed her fourth finger between his thumb and forefinger. “If m’lucky enough, and you’re okay with it, one day your name will be Mrs. Styles. But here in this room,” he shook his head and smiled so fondly at the little group ooh-ing and ahh-ing over the rocking chair he made for her, “I think you’re always going t’be called Miss Bee.”

--

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It wasn’t lunch time, so Harry wasn’t standing by the fence like a certified creep. “Mr. Harry!” Someone shouted. He instinctively turned toward the field and found the gaggle of cuties lined up at the edge of the field. How he didn’t hear them approach was beyond him.

They were led by none other than the cutest woman of all. Today she wore a long green jacket. Black pants peeked out from it. Her coat had a tie fabric cinching her waist. Harry never paid much attention to what his date wore, but everything on her made her look three times as adorable if it were even possible.

He gave a wave, heading over to the group. “Hey everyone,” he greeted. “Early recess?” He asked.

They all glanced at her making sure it was okay to answer. “Go ahead, you know what to say,” she encouraged.

Harry remembered Amara (the little girl who bent her neck back at an incredible angle to chat with him last week) as she stepped forward to look up at him once more. “Miss Bee said our sandwich party is going to be on Halloween. So you can dress up as your dream job.”

He smirked and glanced at her. “What if this is m’dream job?” Because there wasn’t a world in which it wasn’t. Not if fate and destiny put him precisely at her side just because he got this job. It was the best job in the world.

They looked at her again. “That’s okay,” she affirmed with a laugh.

“Sometimes Miss Bee has silly rules, so we have to check.”

“I beg your pardon, they’re not silly!” She frowned with mock annoyance.

“Mr. Niall can come too!” Another one said excitedly.

“We’ve been really good in math too, so we get to ask you question too!” Kai bounced with energy that seemed quite misplaced in asking two construction workers about their jobs.

“Janie, do you want to give Mr. Harry what you brought?”

Harry watched as another little girl stepped forward. She held two folded pieces of construction paper, and she handed them up and toward Harry at the fence. “It’s made out of construction paper. Like your job,” she said explained as if Harry hadn’t a clue what it was. “One’s for Mr. Niall too.”

“Miss Bee wrote the cover part and then we all got to make a page each.”

Harry was enthralled with the cover. It had her extremely beautiful handwriting. Though he was pretty sure every little thing she did was beautiful. There were 3-D stickers of Halloween items placed sporadically across the page but still maintained a fun holiday aesthetic.

Please join us for our Halloween Sand-Witch party. Wednesday, October 31st at 11:45 AM. Please RSVP to Miss Bee and let her know if you have any allergies.

He flipped quickly seeing a variety of hand-drawn pictures. The drawings could only be himself and Niall munching on sandwiches the following week at their party. Along with a variety of varying six-year-old signatures, and so forth.

Harry smiled, his eye catching hers. This was almost as good as asking her on a date and hearing her say yes. A handwritten invitation was a dream come true. It didn’t matter to him in the slightest that the little party was going to be spent with twenty kindergarteners and his best friend either. Because she was going to be there dressed as something adorable, he was sure, and he couldn’t wait.

“We’d love t’attend,” he told them. She smiled shyly as the little ones cheered.

“Alright, Kindergarten... it’s time we head back now that the guys are invited,” she waved to Harry. “Say see you later to Mr. Harry.”

“See you later alligator!” Someone shouted, causing the rest to giggle uncontrollably.

She shook her head and smiled fondly at her group of funny children and headed back toward the school building peering back to catch Harry’s eye again.

*

On Friday, she was preparing for the following week as always. It had been raining hard all day long, so Under Construction wasn’t next door. Moreover, there was no outdoor recess so there was no way she would have seen him anyway. It made her miss Harry.

It seemed a little ridiculous that she would fall so quickly for an almost total stranger. Especially when she was so cautious about falling for anyone after Evan.

She met Evan while out with friends for a birthday dinner. He said he was drawn to her, a moth to a flame, the whole bit. He told her she was pretty, lovely, sweet, etc. Evan was handsome, talented, and funny. At first, he was excessively kind. Flowers every week, asked her to move in only three months in, told her he couldn’t live without her.

He worked for a financial company. One that made him a lot of money so he could afford a big house—bigger than two people without kids conceivably needed. But it was for their future. Evan’s job required many business meetings and parties that left her feeling completely drained socially and financially. Every party required a new fancy outfit that she didn’t want to pay for. He made her go to golfing fundraisers (even though she hated golf) and helped him with parties at his place for clients and partners alike.

All while she tried to get her bearings in her first two years of teaching.

Evan never attended a school event. He didn’t help her move her furniture in her classroom. He didn’t understand why she would go to work on days she wasn’t getting paid to set things up. He didn’t get that the magic inside a classroom happened outside of school hours, and it was well worth the time she put into it. There was no help from him putting bulletin boards together and he certainly wouldn’t be caught dead on her colorful carpet laminating on a Tuesday afternoon.

She finished her planning and clicked into another tab on her computer to look at the to-do lists that never seemed to get any shorter. She had a section for classroom improvements, stain her bookshelves, inquire about fixing the outlets, find more shelving, paint her rocking chair, and more. There was so much.

After their breakup—the one instigated by Evan because she was spending too much time at school—she moved into a tiny little house on her own. It was no more than a one-bedroom apartment. Just enough space for herself and she loved it, but it also needed so much work. There was the roof that leaked in the rain in the same spot, one of the stove burners didn’t work, one of the windows in the living room was so stiff shut she couldn’t move it. Her bedroom seemed poorly insulated and was freezing in the winter, the tile flooring in her bathroom was cracked in several places. But it was home. The cutest little place she had ever seen. The living room was filled with books, and the dining table was a spot for her tutoring sessions.

The kitchen always smelled like cookies or brownies. Things that she brought to her parent’s house on Wednesday evenings when she, her siblings, and anyone available in her family gathered for a meal together. Her sister’s fiancée begged for muffins at least once a month and she smirked at the thought.

There wasn’t enough time and there wasn’t enough energy she could muster to fix her place up. There were more pressing matters. Trying to eat well, exercise, get her master’s degree. Visiting her parents and helping her sister with her wedding. It was exhausting.

She was jolted from her thoughts by a knock on her outside door. She put a hand on her heart, not anticipating a knock as it was downpouring. It was four-thirty in the afternoon on a Friday. All her co-workers hightailed it out of there shortly after the buses had left. Slowly, cautiously, she walked over to the door seeing Harry smiling in the small window. He had a black raincoat on, the hood keeping his pretty face from getting wet.

Immediately she opened the door. “Hi, Miss Bee,” he greeted so brightly she thought she might melt. He was so happy to see her it made her stomach twist. “I was hoping you’d be gone, but s’nice t’see you anyway,” he said stepping inside.

She bit the inside of her lip. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, s’Friday,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Sorry ‘bout m’coat,” he frowned as it dripped on the floor. “S’raining cats and dogs out there,” he shrugged out of the coat and snapped it outside, a tiny little overhang keeping it the smallest bit dry. He slung it on the back of an upturned chair on one of her tables, so it dripped below to the floor. He frowned and headed toward the bathroom for paper towels. “I’ll take care of this before we leave,” he promised placing a bunch of towels below the dripping coat.

She stared at him. “What are you doing here, Harry?”

He turned slightly, smiling up at her while he knelt next to his watery mess. “S’Friday, wanted t’see what y’needed help with for next week.”

She blinked. “But... you didn’t work today.”

“As a matter of fact, I did work. I had a meeting about our progress and talked to suppliers about materials and such,” he said proudly, the dimples indenting his cheeks.

“Oh... I meant... outside,” she shook her head. “I didn’t mean to imply—”

He chuckled quietly as she tried to back track. “S’fine, Bird. I knew what y’meant. Don’t worry ‘bout it. No, ‘course with the rain it puts us back a day or two, so I had t’be productive in other ways.”

There was something wrong with her, because that was one of the hottest sentences she had ever heard anyone say and he was merely talking about productivity.

“Um...” she swallowed. “I don’t need... you didn’t... you came all the way here?”

“S’not too far from m’place actually,” he said with a shrug. He headed toward her desk to see her little piles of what needed to be accomplished. He hoped to find something labeled Monday, or maybe something that needed to be cut or stapled together. Instead, he found her to-do list opened on her computer. “What’s this?” He asked, glancing at her screen.

“Oh... don’t look at that, they’re... they’re nothing. Just... they’re my to-do—”

“Your roof leaks?” He asked looking up at her in shock. He also looked completely hurt. Like it was unimaginable that she kept that from him. “Bird, why didn’t you say something? I would have—”

“Stop,” she put her hand on her chest feeling it ache with want for him. Adoration for him. Something that felt dangerously close to the feelings she had when she first started dating Evan and he brought her flowers every week. “Harry,” she said softly. “I am so appreciative of you coming down here and helping me, but you don’t have to. It’s likely I can’t reciprocate or—”

His eyes dropped to her computer again scanning the list, ignoring her and wondering what else she needed done. “Bird, you’re cold?” He asked. She felt like she was in trouble. Her throat tightening over the emotion she felt. It was a long day—but all of them were long. Her weeks felt endless. And she was cold. So lonely in that cold, damp, tiny place she lived no matter how much she loved it. “Kitten,” he whispered quietly.

“Stop,” she begged. “Please stop.”

“Bird,” he frowned. “Y’should have said something. I can bring Niall t’look at it, we can fix it up in a minute—”

Tears welled in her eyes. “Harry, I’m begging; please stop.”

“No,” he shook his head. “Y’would never let one of your students have a problem like this,” he turned from her computer, strode across the room to her, and put a hand on her hip while pulling her toward him. She looked away from him, ignored the sparks that burst from the touch on her waist. She shook her head.

“It’s not important.”

He gently touched her cheek turning her gaze back to him. His finger resting beneath her chin. “You’re not important?” He questioned. “Y’know how ridiculous y’sound, right? I’ve known you less than a month and I think y’might be the most important person I know.”

She swallowed and shrugged. “There’s more pressing matters,” she whispered. “I have this classroom to worry about and little minds to mold. My sister’s getting married, and my mom needs—”

“All that is more pressing than y’not catching a cold?”

“I-I... I’m not going to... I don’t—”

He rubbed his thumb across her lip making all of the words in her head disappear. “Bird, you’re going t’make yourself sick.”

Was this what it was supposed to feel like? In all the time she dated Evan, there wasn’t much worry about her. It was usually a worry about what she wasn’t doing or couldn’t do because she was busy. There was never a worry about stretching herself too thin or making her do more because he wanted her to be part of his stuff.

One lone tear rolled down her cheek and she shook her head immediately, moving his hand from her face in hopes he wouldn’t notice. But of course, he did. “Hey,” he whispered gently. “Bird, my love,” his voice was so soft it made her feel warm again. “Hey,” he cooed, “C’mere,” he tucked her to his chest, kissed the top of her head like it was an everyday occurrence. Like it wasn’t the first time his lips touched her. “It’s okay,” he hummed. God, he was so warm. Is this what it was supposed to feel like? Was this how she was supposed to feel when someone cared about her and all the little things she neglected to speak into existence?

She sniffled, wiping at her face while Harry calmly soothed her. His hand rubbed up and down her back. The last time she remembered someone soothing her like this had to be when she was a child and her dad was trying to comfort her over a broken toy or missing her mum on a work trip.

“Sorry,” she sniveled. “I think I’m just really overwhelmed.”

“I’ll say,” he agreed.

She rolled her lips into her mouth and pulled away from him even though it was a hundred times colder than her bedroom ever could be outside the circle of his arms. “Sometimes I just need to cry and be dramatic,” she admitted and wiped her eyes.

Harry was looking at her like she was going to have a breakdown at any moment. He wanted to wrap her back up in his arms but part of him was a afraid he might not ever let her go. “I don’t think y’being dramatic, kitten,” his voice was still very soft. Like he was worried he’d set her off somehow. “Think y’might jus’ be a little too not dramatic, actually.”

She took a deep breath. “My house is fine, really. It’s not a big leak. It’s only when it rains,” as if to make matters worse it thundered loudly outside. She winced while Harry just stared at her.

“This ex of yours, was he handy at all?” He asked and moved to the table where piles were made, and he finally found something labeled Monday. He grabbed a pair of scissors and started cutting the paper; sitting on the floor like he did on Tuesday. Like it was no big deal that he came out in the middle of a thunderstorm to help her on a day he didn’t work next door.

“No,” she shook her head. “He just hired people.”

But she left out telling him about only hiring when it was convenient for him. “Hmm.”

“I actually know a lot about fixing things up,” she admitted. “Not nearly to the degree that you do. I need a lot of YouTube videos and time I sincerely do not have to execute it, but I installed our dishwasher on my own. And I pulled up some carpet and put some flooring down in our dining room.

She swore Harry was smiling proudly at her. Like he had taught her or something. “S’very lovely, kitten. S’good t’know how t’do those kinds of things... but I wouldn’t have let y’lift a finger t’do it.” It was like he sucked all the air out of her body and for a moment she really felt frozen. Harry continued cutting paper and pretending like he hadn’t just rendered her lungs useless. “We still on for Sunday afternoon?” He asked.

She nodded. “You’re still going to come to the party on Wednesday even if it’s the worst date of your life?” She asked. “I will have a really hard time explaining it to the kids if you don’t.”

He chuckled. “M’certain it’ll be the best date of m’life, but yes. I’ll be there Wednesday,” he assured her.

“Thank you, Harry,” she whispered and sat beside him.

Harry wasn’t dressed in his typical construction gear. Instead, he wore jeans, a pair of sneakers, and a cozy sweatshirt. He smiled at her. “Course, Bird.”

*

The thunder was loud. Practically, shaking the small frame of her house. Sighing, she looked up at the ceiling unable to see anything in the dark until the lightning illuminated her room. Her phone said it was only after one in the morning. Much too early or late to do anything but try and fall back asleep.

Sighing again, she got out of bed and headed to her bathroom before making a stop in the kitchen for a glass of water. As soon as she stepped in the kitchen, her foot was met with a puddle.

Her heart pounded. “No, no, no, fuck,” she hissed and smacked the light switch on the wall. She put a hand to her mouth as the leak was now a definitive hole in the middle of her ceiling. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” She hurried back to the bedroom grabbing her phone and dialing Louis as quickly as she could. As she listened to it ring longer than she wanted to (but couldn’t blame Louis for not answering so early in the morning), she grabbed pots and pans out of her cabinets catching as much rain as she could.

“’Lo?” he yawned. Exhausted, clearly. It was one in the morning. The poor thing probably didn’t want to get out of bed in the pouring rain, but she didn’t know what else to do... she didn’t have a choice.

“Louis, I,” she gasped. “I need help, please!”

“What’s wrong?” He asked quickly. “El, baby,” he hummed off to the side of his phone. “Get your coat,” he mumbled.

“What’s happening?” She moaned.

“Shh,” he hushed. “What’s wrong, love?” He asked. “Are you alright?”

“My ceiling!”

“Ah fuck,” he grumbled. Louis immediately knew what the issue was. “I should have—”

“Louis, I don’t have time for I-Told-You-Sos. Hurry up!” She begged and watched as another chunk of her ceiling fell to the floor. It wasn’t a huge hole, but if she hadn’t gotten up it was going to cave in her ceiling for sure by morning.

“Alright, alright, we’re on the way.”

*

Harry was dreaming. The pretty kindergarten teacher was in his house, drinking tea, and relaxing. It was adorable. Her smile was so sweet. No evidence of sadness or exhaustion on her face. He wanted to die seeing her upset that afternoon. But there was only so much he could do.

But she wasn’t upset right then. His dream made her giggly, like when her students made her laugh. She was wearing a pretty pink dress, it brought out the warmth in her. It wasn’t short, of course, but she wore leggings beneath it and she looked so cozy. “Hi Miss Bee,” he chuckled approaching her. “Did you have a good day?”

“Mhmm... come here,” she patted the sofa beside her. “I missed you.”

It was music to his ears.

“Missed you t—”

His phone nearly sent him into an early grave waking him from the dead of sleep. He slapped his hand out and smacked it off the nightstand. “Shit,” he whispered grabbing it. It was an unknown number and normally he’d ignore it, but he had never gotten a call in the middle of the night. “Hello?”

“Oh thank God,” Eleanor sighed. “Harry, I’m so sorry to bother you. Her ceiling. It’s got a hole in it and she’s freaking out and it’s raining so bad, and we have no idea what to do, can you help us?”

He knew he should have checked it out.

“Yeah, yeah, course, jus’ send me the address.”

“I already did,” Harry put the phone on speaker and checked the message while he rifled through his drawer for clothes to wear in the rain. He felt his heart skip a beat to know she was only a five-minute drive away.

“M’five minutes away once I get m’shoes on.”

“You’ll beat us there, thank you, so, so much.”

Harry called Niall immediately. “I was sleeping,” he groaned.

“M’sending you an address. Miss Bee’s got a roof situation.”

“Shit, in this weather?”

“I’ll be there in five. Bring anything y’can think of.”

*

The rain was not letting up. The thunder and lightning only added to the shitty night she was having. She ran from her house to the small shed in the back corner of her yard to find something useful. Louis would be a few minutes, and she really didn’t want to wait a second longer than she needed to.

With a small flashlight between her teeth, she found the ladder that would be large enough to get her on her roof. She awkwardly held it as she walked back toward the house, propping it against the side.

Her raincoat wasn’t doing anything. It was going to feel downright tropical in her room when she got back inside. Everything was so terrible right then, she just wanted to cry, and she couldn’t because there wasn’t even time to have a meltdown. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she whispered to herself entering the shed once more. She found a tarp. She hadn’t a clue how she would get it to stay down but it was something. It’s not like she had time to find a YouTube video on it either.

In addition to the tarp, she grabbed a hammer, tucked it into the waistband of her pants. Then she snagged a box of nails and put them in her coat pocket before she made her way back to her leaky house. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she whispered.

She climbed the ladder, it was slippery and terrified her, but what choice did she have. She had a flashlight between her teeth and the tarp under her arm. This was a horrible idea, but it was one in the morning and nothing made more sense than this.

The thunder was so loud, and the only light came from a streetlamp just a little too far away from her house to be useful. She slowly climbed onto the roof and felt her heart hammering hard against her chest. She took a deep breath through her nose and climbed further onto the roof. It was slippery, wet, and cold. Her fingers felt frozen as she moved her way up toward where the leak was. She unfolded the tarp and placed it so it would flip over toward the front of her house and the rain would slide over the hole and nothing would get under it. It was a little relieving to have a plan, but it was very short-lived.

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

The sound of someone else shouting at her brought her practically to a stop; she dropped the flashlight and lost her footing. She grabbed at the tarp, the shingles, anything to stop her from sliding off her house and into the yard. “Shit!” She barely had time to scream while she clawed for something to get a purchase. Her roof wasn’t particularly tall (she wasn’t living in a mansion by any stretch), but she imagined a ten-foot fall in the rain would probably result in a broken bone or two. In her slide, the hammer dug into her hip, certainly it was going to leave a bruise. She was lucky the nails were in the box, or she suspected she’d have an ER trip this early morning as well as a roof to repair.

Fortunately, her hands snagged onto the gutter before she made her final descent to the ground. The metal clanging and moaning as it pulled from the house with her dead weight hanging onto it. It hurt her fingers, her left middle finger definitely felt like it was cut on some part of the metal lip she clung to. “Let go,” the voice ordered from behind her.

She gasped. Tried to turn and look at who was bossing her around in the middle of the night. “I—”

“Bird, let go of your fucking house, now.”

Her heart managed to flutter once it recognized Harry’s voice. Just his voice made her feel safe and she felt infinitely better about her situation. It was a painful realization because Harry didn’t need this. From here it was only a five to six foot drop and less likely to hurt her, but she was still exhausted, tired, and certain with her luck she’d land on a rock and break an ankle.

So, despite all instinct, she released the gutter with nothing else but hope she wouldn’t hurt herself upon her landing in her yard.

Instead, she fell into his arms. Harry caught her, cradling her briefly and absorbing the impact of her fall by bending slightly while catching her. Before she had a mere second to be in his arms and think it through, he placed her on her feet with ease.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” He snapped. “Are you insane?” His anger didn’t match his gentle touch as he cupped her face. His hands then dropped to her arms and moved further south to her waist and hips as he scanned her for injury. It was still near pitch dark if it weren’t for the headlight he had on his forehead. The light scanned her like a laser as she gaped at his presence.  “Are you okay, bird?” His voice was softer this time.

“How... how did you...?” She stared at him in disbelief that he was really truly there.

“Eleanor called me,” he stated. “What were y’doing on a roof in the rain by yourself?” He asked, his voice turning harsh again. She had never heard him sound anything but kind and sweet. The anger was almost terrifying.

“I-I, my roof—”

“You scared me t’death,” he yanked her to him, her face pressing to his chest. She swore she could feel his heartbeat through his clothes, over the sound of the pouring rain and the thunder in the distance. “Jesus, bird,” he grumbled, squeezing her tight. “I should have looked at it this afternoon, m’so sorry,” he murmured. “So, so sorry,” he repeated quietly. “Niall’s almost here, we’re gonna fix it up. Jus’... go inside and stay warm, please,” he pleaded pulling away from her, keeping a hand on her face for a moment as he scanned her once more.

“But—”

“Jus’ go inside, bird. S’fine. I’ll take care of it.”

She blinked, rain water was streaming over her face as she tried to figure out what to do next. Wincing, she pulled the hammer from her waistband as it skimmed the sensitive bruise that was definitely forming as she stood there. Then she took the box of nails from her pocket. “Not sure if these are useful,” she offered quietly.

His eyes looked so sad, so displeased. She wanted to cry. “Resourceful,” he murmured.

She nodded silently. “I’m... I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Go inside, bird, please.”

As she turned away toward her door, Niall was suddenly there. A matching headlight to Harry’s also on his forehead. “Hey Miss Bee,” Niall smirked as if this was normal to meet up with her in her backyard at one in the morning. “Having fun?”

“Loads,” Harry deadpanned. She felt flushed as she didn’t answer Niall. He winked at her and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Go inside, love. Please.”

She bit the inside of her lip and headed in. She dumped the filled pots and pans into her sink, and she grabbed towels from the linen closet. Everyone and everything was going to be soaked.

“Good morning, sunshine! Fancied a bath in the kitchen, did you?” Eleanor chirped cheerfully as she entered. Like it wasn’t one in the morning, and her house wasn’t falling apart. But her smile quickly morphed into a frown at the sight of her wet friend dripping, cold, and so completely defeated in the eyes. “Aw, sweetie,” she whispered.

A lone sob escaped her lips, and she covered her mouth, except she forgot about the cut on her finger. She winced at the slight pain and sting. “Goddammit!” She snapped and dropped her head to her other hand and cried.

Eleanor made her way to her, gently tugging her coat off her body. “It’s alright,” she promised. “You’re okay, babe,” she reminded her. “It’s just a little hole... Harry and Niall will take care of it,” she brushed her hand over her hair soothingly.

She sniffled. “Today was not a good day,” she whispered.

“Well, technically it’s tomorrow, and I imagine at one in the morning, it can only go up from here,” she said positively. She snorted and shook her head.

“Don’t make me laugh.”

Eleanor smiled. Above them she could hear the muffled sounds of Niall and Harry working together to repair her roof in the rain. The thunder and lightning didn’t change pace. “You clean up your hand, I’ll take care of the kitchen,” she said softly. “Go change, clean up, and brush your hair. He may be in love with you, but you would kill me if he saw you with your wet, rainy bed head,” she teased.

She snorted again and even though she didn’t want to trouble Eleanor, she listened and headed to the bathroom.

*

Louis wasn’t as helpful as Niall and Harry, but he was able to hold an additional flashlight and hand items to them as needed. Once the tarp was in place (with an added piece of rubber over top of it that Niall had brought from home) Louis helped clean up their tools and materials. He brought the ladder back to her shed while their belongings went back to their cars. Once everything was cleaned up and they were confident her roof wouldn’t leak for the remainder of the night, Louis guided them inside the small house of his best friend.

“Thanks boys,” Eleanor smiled happily in the kitchen. She was by the sink drying off pots and pans that she clearly washed.

But Harry was scanning for the pretty kindergarten teacher, clearly. Eleanor glanced down the hall suspiciously and Harry followed her gaze. “You okay in there, babe? The guys are inside, now!”

“Just trying to get my band aid to stay,” she called back.

“Niall, can we get you some tea?” Louis asked while Harry moved toward the sound of her voice. He knocked quietly on the only closed door in the little hall assuming it must be her bathroom.

“Bird?”

There was a quiet sigh from inside. “Crap,” he heard her whisper. But then the door opened.

God, she was pretty. Even sad. Even a little banged up, wet, and tired, she was gorgeous, really. Harry was in awe of her.

“Can you—” she sighed heavily. The cut wasn’t just to her middle finger as she thought but across her index and ring fingers too. Harry gently pushed inside the bathroom, holding her shoulders and guiding her to on the closed toilet lid as he looked at the array of band aid wrappers that had fluttered to the floor. He pulled the head lamp off and shrugged out of his wet coat just like he had less than twelve hours ago in her classroom, he hung it on the back of the bathroom door hook where her towel usually hung.

Silently he bandaged her up, pausing only slightly when she winced in pain from the antibacterial spray he put on her cut. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Y’have nothing t’apologize for,” he murmured. “I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

“It’s alright, you were scared. I would have done the same thing. I was scared too.”

He completed the bandages on her hand. Carefully, he cupped the side of her face, his thumb brushing on her cheek as he gently tilted her gaze up to meet him. “Don’t ever do something dangerous like that again,” his voice was very quiet, but none less serious.

“Okay,” she whispered.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded. “Thank you, so much. Really.”

“Course, bird. Told you. M’at your service,” he reminded her. She smiled shyly, and Harry was almost certain he didn’t imagine the way she leant into his palm that cupped her very pretty face. For a moment it wasn’t one in the morning, her roof wasn’t a mess, and Harry was only there because he wanted to be, not because he had to be.

*

“You can stay here,” she said to Louis and Eleanor as she walked into the kitchen. “It’s late.”

“Already pulled the sofa out and got sheets,” Eleanor said with a yawn. She walked away from the sink and made herself comfy on the sofa. Louis chuckled and headed after her.

“Good night, everyone. Thanks for helping Miss Kindergarten.”

“You guys are welcome to stay as well, I have a couple air mattresses,” she offered to Niall and Harry.

“In the morning, she’ll make muffins,” Louis called out quietly.

Niall yawned but shook his head. “M’good to head home, Miss Bee. Thank you though. If there’s a problem again, call Harry and we’ll come over again. We’re going to fix it tomorrow when the rain lets up, yeah?”

She nodded. There was no use arguing. At least not right now. “Thank you,” she sighed. “Text Harry when you get home,” she said sweetly as he exited, the door closing quietly.

Harry grinned while he sipped on a cup of warm tea. That was very sweet of her wanting to know about Niall’s safety. She turned back to Harry. “I can set up an air mattress. I’d rather stay in case something happens to the tarp,” he offered.

“Jesus, just sleep in her bed, you’re both grown adults,” Eleanor groaned.

Her face turned the color of the pants he liked most on her—the ones she wore the day they met. He smiled softly, shook his head as he sipped his tea again so he wouldn’t let on how much he liked that idea.

“El, shh,” Louis whispered. “That was an inside thought. Go to sleep,” he mumbled.

Harry couldn’t help but show his smile and he looked at her almost apologetically on Eleanor’s behalf. “Air mattress?”

“Babe, it’s so loud,” Eleanor whined.

“Shut. Up,” she hissed.

“I can sleep on the floor,” he offered with a chuckle.

“Absolutely not,” she whispered and grabbed his hand. She tugged him down the hall to her bedroom. She flicked the light on and Harry inspected the little room with awe. A closet opposite the wall of three windows with gray colored curtains with an intricate lace design. Her bed resided in the middle of the wall with a fluffy green comforter that looked warm and cozy. Beside it was a nightstand, filled with books, a water cup, and her phone. There was a plush gray carpet that extended beyond her bed frame and into most of the room taking up 80% of the floor.

Her dresser looked old, reminded him of her desk and shelving in her classroom. There was a mirror propped up behind it or on it, he couldn’t be sure. Pictures surrounded the frame of it and on the surface was a beautiful, almost antique jewelry box.

None of her furniture matched. He figured it was subject to her yard sale ways as well. “I like your room,” he said.

She sighed. “A work in progress.”

He smiled. “Are you okay?”

“Not really.”

He frowned instantly. “Bird,” he sighed and brought his hand to the side of her neck. He brushed his thumb on her cheek again. “Everything’s okay.”

“I’m just... not having a good day,” she whispered looking away from him. “I’m sorry. I feel so bad for bothering you this late and my room is freezing cold, and you should just go so you don’t get sick from the rain and this icebox,” but Harry couldn’t help but notice she didn’t move from his touch.

A sad smile graced his lips and eyes. He was so handsome it made her stomach do back flips. “Jus’ lay down, bird,” he said softly.

“Harry, it’s freezing—”

“Get in the bed, love,” he was a little firmer, but no less soft in his approach. He gently nudged her forward. Poor thing must have been exhausted because she willingly let him tuck her in, rubbing her arms gently for friction and warmth.

Turning back to the doorway, he clicked the light off bathing them in darkness. Silently he stripped out of his wet clothes. “M’jus’ gonna get between the sheet and the comforter,” he assured her. “No funny business, bird. Need a proper date,” he teased.

She snorted and turned on her side away from him. Maybe her room was cold. But it was very warm beside her in bed. “Thank you, Harry.”

“Of course,” he murmured toward her frame still faced away from him. He smiled at the shadow of her that he could only vaguely make out when the lightning peeped through the space in her curtains between windows. “Anything for you Miss Bird.”

*

When she woke up, she was sweating.

Harry was snuggled behind her, his arm draped across her body, the sheet the only barrier between her and him. He was still asleep, at least she was pretty sure. His breathing made it seem that way. He felt warm and good, even if she was sweating. “Mm,” he hummed and tightened his grip on her. She smiled softly to herself and let him hold her for a minute. It was perhaps too hot, too cozy, and definitely not what she should have done. But it was nice and safe. Harry made her feel incredibly safe.

After a few minutes of blissful resting, she carefully lifted his arm off her and snuck out of bed. He didn’t stir too much other than gripping her pillow and holding it close. She looked away before she climbed in beside him again. She tiptoed across the room to her dresser, pulling the bottom drawer open slowly so it didn’t make noise from getting stuck on the uneven swells of old wood. She found a pair of sweatpants that she bought at least two sizes too large that would fit Harry’s frame along with a sweatshirt she got back in college from a friend’s ex-boyfriend. She left the clothes on the bed beside her sleeping partner peacefully dreaming and drooling onto her pillow.

She grinned to herself and made her way to the door, stopping at his pile of wet clothes trying her best to avoid the parts of her old floor that creaked with her weight. She quickly opened and closed her door without letting it squeak or whine—so Harry could sleep in peace.

She turned to the washer and dryer in the small closet beside her bathroom, tossing his clothes inside the dryer. Next, she headed to the kitchen. Louis was sitting up on the sofa, Eleanor snuggled into his lap. He was scrolling on his phone and combing his fingers through her hair. She smiled fondly at her best friend and gave a silent wave.

“She’s awake, you can talk,” he said quietly.

“Mm, debatable,” El grumbled.

She smirked and headed outside barefoot. It wasn’t as cold as it was last night, and the sun was starting to appear. She stepped further back in the yard to get a whole picture view of her roof. Crossing her arms at her stomach she sighed. Louis joined her (wearing shoes, however) he faced the house with her and he draped an arm around her shoulders.

“Harry said you almost fell off the roof. You got up there yourself?”

“I knew you were on the way,” she mumbled. But her gutter looked a little misshapen from her fall. Something else that would need to be fixed in addition to her tarped roof. “I figured I’d get a head start.”

“If I found you knocked unconscious in your garden, I would have lost my mind,” Louis stated.

“It needed to be done—”

“Irrelevant,” he shook his head and kissed the top of her head. “Don’t do that again.”

“Harry already gave me this lecture.”

“Good.”

She sighed. “I should just sell it and rent an apartment,” she mumbled. “I don’t have the time or energy to fix it up. It’ll be a loss, but—”

“You love this place,” Louis reminded her.

“I do, but at what cost? You were right, I should have fixed the leak when I first noticed it.”

“How did that taste in your mouth? Saying I’m right?” He smirked and gave her a squeeze.

“Like vinegar.... meanie,” she grumbled.

“This is your house. You can do whatever you want with it. If you want to sell it, you know I’ll help you. But you don’t have to. I’m sure there’s someone that would love to help you fix it up,” he grinned. As if on cue, Harry appeared in her backyard, rubbing his eye. “Good morning, Harry, how did you sleep?”

“Like a rock,” he murmured. He was wearing the outfit she selected for him, and she felt her heart skip. He followed her and Louis into the yard, the laces of his work boots untied. “No shoes?” He asked, glancing at her feet.

“I’m only going to be out here a second,” she assured him.

“She’s not really a shoe person,” Louis told him. “She’s a summer girl because of work,” he explained.

“I could see that,” he smirked and looked at her house. “Looks like the tarp held,” he put his hands into the pockets as he assessed the damage the same as her.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Thank you.”

“M’pleasure.”

“I’m going to get El a little more mobile so she can help you with the muffins,” Louis offered. “We can go for a coffee run too,” he pulled away from her with another kiss to the top of her head. “Harry, tea? Coffee?”

“Tea, please,” he nodded.

Harry stood beside her, their arms brushing as she looked her house over. “That was stupid of me,” she said quietly. “Going up there alone in the dark.”

“Not stupid. Y’were jus’ trying t’fix it.”

She sighed. “When will Niall be here?”

“Soon as he stops t’get me more clothes,” he smirked.

“I’m sorry. This is an awful way to spend a Saturday. I can find someone—”

“Bird, jus’ let me do it,” he chuckled. “M’begging you.”

“You’re sure, it’s not a bother?”

“Course not,” he promised.

“I don’t know how, but I’ll make it up to you.”

He grinned. “C’mon, let’s get you inside before y’lose a toe.”

*

The roof was repaired in a few hours. She could hear Niall and Harry laughing while she let her muffins bake. Eleanor and Louis helped her clean up a little more and eventually the pair came down from the roof. “All set, Miss Bee,” Niall grinned.

“Thank you,” she sighed. “Thank you so much, here let me—” She attempted to hand Niall money, but he put his hands up in front of him like she was trying to stab him with a knife.

“Absolutely not. It’s on the house.”

“Literally,” Louis chuckled.

“Boo...” El rolled her eyes.

She looked at Harry nervously. “Don’t even think ‘bout it, bird,” he warned.

Pouting, she put the money back in her purse and then held out the plate of muffins that had finished onto the counter. “Here,” she offered. “The blueberry white chocolate chip ones are the best.”

“Don’t be mean to my cranberry walnut,” Eleanor said protectively.

She smiled. “Chocolate chip is by far superior, my love,” Louis said knowingly, and they took their muffins to the sofa bed.

Niall snagged one of each, with an impish smile and followed her friends. Harry stood opposite her at the counter. “We still on for tomorrow?”

“You still want to see me? After this whole catastrophe of a week?”

He nodded, picking the baking cup off his muffin with a smile. “God, yeah.”

“You might be a little crazy.”

“M’definitely a little crazy ‘bout you, bird.”

“That will be seven days in a row of seeing me.”

“A perfect week, in m’opinion,” he ripped a piece of the top of the muffin off and popped it into his mouth. “Mm,” he sighed. “Blueberry is definitely m’favorite,” he smiled.

“What are we doing tomorrow?” She asked.

He grinned. “I thought y’might want t’stick to something simple. Jus’ lunch. We can walk around the park if it’s nice out,” he offered. “But s’also Sunday so m’sure y’want some time t’rest, so I won’t keep you out forever.” That sounded highly unfair. Part of her didn’t want Harry to leave and she felt so ridiculous about saying it. Or maybe it was because he was so warm in her freezing cold room. “Lunch for sure.”

“Is it a fancy place? I just want to know what I should wear.”

“Not particularly,” he shook his head. “You can wear whatever you want,” he promised. “M’sure you’ll look stunning.”

Her face warmed with the compliment wondering for the millionth time why Harry would want to put her kindergarten chaos in his life. “M’with Eleanor, cranberry walnut is the winner,” Niall said around a mouthful of his breakfast treat.

“Told you!”

“Fine by me, I don’t have to share,” Louis said with a shrug.

Harry chuckled, gave her a wink, and headed to join the little group in her living room. Like he wasn’t stealing her heart and soul at all.

--

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She was ready thirty-six minutes before Harry was supposed to show up. The anxiety she felt, even though he was there less than twenty-four hours prior, made her bouncy. Her knee was shaking as she sat on her sofa trying not to look at her phone for the twentieth time in the same minute to see that time was not moving any faster.

There was the thought to look in a mirror, but she feared she would ruin her hair for adjusting it too much. Or her makeup for thinking maybe one more swipe of eyeshadow would make her look better. Instead, she continued practically vibrating out of her seat in hopes that somehow Harry would get there faster.

She ignored her texts from Louis and Eleanor, both nearly giggling through their messages about being safe and using protection. She read over the itinerary her sister sent for wedding planning and when she got too overwhelmed, she switched gears to her weekly lesson plan. By then, only a mere nine minutes had passed. With how much she was tapping her foot, she thought that her floor was going to get a matching hole like her ceiling.

It felt like she had never been on a date before, and this was the first one. Maybe it was just the first one that actually mattered. Evan took her on dates of course, and in the early stages of their relationship, they were filled with excitement. But not like this. Everything moved so quickly with Evan. Dates, flowers, moving in, home repairs, and many events. By the end of their relationship, dates were extravagant, but almost always more of an event than spending time with one another.

Maybe it was worth waiting the agonizing twenty-four minutes that she still had to wait before Harry arrived.

Her phone pinged beside her. Harry’s name popped up and she felt her heart leap into her throat. Honestly, if he cancelled, she was going to be devastated. But she would of course understand.

I’m itching to come pick you up, Bird. Any chance you’re ready early? I’m only five minutes away from your place.

The wave of relief that flooded her made her feel two hundred times lighter. She laughed quietly to herself. Yes! I’m ready, I don’t want you to rush, but that would be great!

I’ve been sitting in my car for ten minutes and I just thought I couldn’t wait any longer. You’re sure you don’t mind?

Her heart did a somersault in her chest, and she thought she might explode from how cute he was. 🥰 No not at all. I’ve been a bit restless myself looking forward to our lunch.

😅 Good. I’ll see you in a minute, Bird.

Now she wished she had looked at her hair and makeup one more time. She paced her living room and fiddled with the pictures on the wall making sure they looked straight. Her eyes darted to the hole in her ceiling that Harry and Niall said they would fix next weekend once they were assured it was fully dried. They even went to her attic and set up a fan after breakfast yesterday to ensure the moisture wouldn’t accumulate mold. It made her heart skip a beat again to know he was willing to come help her in the middle of the night.

The knock on her door was expected but still surprised her anyway. She hurried over to the door trying not to sound like she was waiting right by the door. Harry stood on the step, a vase and accompanying flower arrangement in his hand. “Hi,” he grinned. “Y’look stunning,” he said scanning her up and down.

She thought she was going to melt right there in the doorway. “Thank you,” she whispered.

He held out the vase. “M’sister told me that getting your date flowers is nice, but s’a lot of work t’find a vase and take care of them right before y’supposed t’go out,” he smiled sheepishly.

She took the vase, inhaling the scent of the various flowers as she did. “Thank you, they’re beautiful.”

“I didn’t know what kind of flowers y’liked so I kinda got one of each,” he admitted shyly.

She grinned. “I love it,” she nodded.

“The ceiling’s okay?” He asked.

She nodded again. “But… let’s not worry about it. I want to enjoy our date,” she bit the inside of her lip as she settled the vase on the small table just inside the doorway.

Harry’s smile grew somehow. It was astonishing. She was pretty sure if a lighthouse failed, they could use him instead. He leaned forward, cupping the side of her face and kissing her on the opposite cheek. Just a quick gentle brush of his lips against her skin. It made her feel warm all over, and she knew her cheeks probably turned pinker than the blush she used. If they did, Harry didn’t comment. He released her quickly. “Let’s go then,” he said holding his hand out for her to take (which she did quickly and enjoyed the way he squeezed her hand once he held it). Harry was dressed in dark jeans, a soft blue button down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He looked so good, smelled better than the flowers he gave her, and she seriously thought about asking him if they could just stay on her couch so she could stare at him.

Harry opened the passenger door for her, making her heart tumble over itself once more. He closed her in and headed to the driver’s side. “I thought we’d go a town or two over jus’ so y’don’t run into any kids… unless y’want that. More witnesses and whatnot,” he winked.

She smiled. “No, that’s okay. I’d rather… keep you to myself for now,” she looked at her lap.

He chuckled quietly. “Works for me.”

*

Harry was fucked. He was worried he was staring at her too much. But then he was worried he was trying to avoid looking at her too much and seemed disinterested. Which was not the case. Harry was almost certain no one could be more interested on a date than the pretty girl sitting across from him. She was looking over the menu, not a particularly fancy place, but there were cloth napkins. Gemma said that a cloth napkin always classed up the date a bit.

Her eyes roamed the menu, her lips pursed in concentration. Harry was enthralled. The way her lashes framed her eyes, the curve of her smile, the wrinkle of her nose when she saw something she didn’t like. “Have you been here before?” She asked.

He shook his head quickly, getting himself to stop staring. “I’ve ordered take out after a job not too far from here.”

She nodded. “It looks really good, thanks for picking. I promise I won’t talk about teaching the whole time, but sometimes I get decision fatigue. I’m not sure if you’ve heard of it, but basically, I make a lot of decisions all day long—for a lot of people. Decisions I don’t even realize I’m making. Picking what to eat is so exhausting sometimes that I don’t even make dinner and just have snacks,” she admitted with a smile.

That worried Harry, of course. He wanted to make her dinner all the time and not let her worry about it. “What d’you like t’eat?” He asked.

She smiled. “Oh, I’m not too picky, really. The butternut squash ravioli sounds really good, and it comes with bread. I’ll probably get brussels sprouts too.”

Once more Harry forgot that he was supposed to uphold his end of the conversation. She made her lunch choice sound like an acceptance speech for an award. “Hey Bird?” He asked quietly.

“Hmm?” She looked up.

“Y’can talk ‘bout teaching as much as y’want. M’not gonna get sick of it,” he promised.

She ducked her gaze to the menu again and smiled sadly. “Oh,” she laughed softly. “Thank you,” appreciation dripping in her voice as she looked up at him with an almost confused gaze. “I’m afraid it’s a pretty big part of my life and conversation.”

“Good,” he shrugged one shoulder. “I like hearing about it,” he promised with a grin.

*

The conversation flowed very easily. They discussed favorites and movies. She offered some of her Brussels sprouts to Harry and he gave her a handful of his French fries when she said they looked really good. He chuckled when she dipped them into the cream sauce that surrounded her ravioli. “It’s good, you should try it.”

It was good. But he still found it funny.

They chatted about their families. Gemma and her baby, his mum, and her family, who were all thoroughly invested in planning this wedding for her sister. “She picked my other sister to be maid of honor, but I’m doing a lot of the work,” she sighed.

“How come?” He asked.

“Because I’m crafty,” she shrugged. “I get roped into making all the stuff for her bachelorette trip—that I’m not going on because it’s during the school year—and I don’t know. She has this vision for the wedding to have some elaborate archway and I stupidly volunteered to make it.”

He smiled. “Do y’have a picture of it?” He asked.

When she went on dates with Evan, phones were nearly a necessity. She didn’t mind, really. They helped keep the conversation going. She would look up things to talk about and show off pictures of her classroom. Not that Evan cared about her classroom. He used his phone to conduct business even while on their date. Check on the score of a game or the like. But it was a little astonishing that she realized she had nearly forgotten she owned a phone until Harry asked for a picture.

“Oh, yeah,” she pulled her phone from her purse and searched through the pictures of the wedding album she created for her sister. “She’s getting married in June, which is also kind of crazy with the end of the school year. But,” she sighed. “It is what it is.”

Harry looked at the archway. It was pretty. Didn’t seem particularly complicated. “What are y’worried about?” He asked.

“Well, building it.”

“Building it?” He repeated.

“Yes. Because purchasing it would be too easy,” she rolled her eyes. “I shouldn’t complain. It’s not that bad, I’m just busy a lot of time and it’s going to be difficult because I need to get the right tools and—” she stopped. “I sound like an awful sister, don’t I?”

“No, not at all,” he shook his head. “S’a big endeavor t’do on your own. But… I have plenty of tools,” he assured her. “And I’ll help you,” he promised. “It’ll go a lot faster and smoother with two people.”

She bit the inside of her cheek. “Really?” She asked.

What the hell was her ex like that she didn’t feel like she could ask for help? “Yes, really,” he smiled. “S’easy m’sure.”

“Thank you,” she said so graciously, Harry thought his heart was going to melt onto the floor of the restaurant.

“At y’service Miss Bird,” he winked.

Their waiter came back to take their dishes, offered dessert which they declined. “Kitten, put your money away. S’useless here,” he shook his head putting his card into the check presenter. She blushed.

“You don’t have—”

“M’not having this discussion,” he shook his head. “S’no bother. M’happy y’wanted t’come out with me. I know you’re busy and m’taking up precious time on your weekend.”

She hadn’t thought about anything that usually plagued her mind when she was doing something enjoyable. She didn’t think about her lesson plans, the wedding, nor Christmas gifts she wanted to start buying. The only thing she could think about was how nice her time with Harry was when he looked so handsome and couldn’t stop staring at her. “I’d rather be here,” she assured him.

He smiled. “Good.”

*

Before they went into the restaurant, she recognized her surroundings and offered her two cents. “There’s a really good ice cream place nearby if you want to get dessert after,” she said. “Since it’s fall, they have this apple sundae special that’s super yummy.”

Harry put a hand on the small of her back as he ushered her back to his car. “Y’have room for ice cream?”

She nodded. “I always have room for ice cream,” she grinned.

He chuckled. “Ice cream it is.” They sat inside the little shop eating their ice creams. Hers, the small apple sundae she spoke about, and his, a cup of mint chocolate chip with hot fudge. “This is really good ice cream,” he nodded taking another spoonful. She ginned to herself, watching a drip of hot fudge get stuck to the bottom of his chin.

She bit her lip and grabbed a napkin between them. “May I?” She asked reaching out to his face. He smirked and she dabbed his skin.

He grabbed her hand when she was finished, made her drop the napkin to the table and he scooped her hand into his and smirked. “You look like a whole bouquet, Bird,” he scanned her again.

A puddle. She was certain her insides turned to mush, and she was no longer solid but liquid on the floor of the ice cream shop. She felt so warm she thought the heat she was producing would melt her sundae into the puddle of her organs on the floor.

“A bouquet?” She questioned.

“Prettiest bouquet I’ve ever seen.”

“I think I’m going to melt,” she whispered.

“Y’can’t melt when I haven’t even kissed y’yet,” he didn’t move his eyes from hers. A small gasp escaped her lips. “M’going t’melt as well,” he squeezed her hand. “Thought ‘bout kissing you yesterday. Well, ‘ve actually been thinking ‘bout kissing you since I met you,” he admitted with a smirk. “But y’really gave me a scare on the roof,” he reminded her.

The sight of her up there in the rain, not knowing what to do, terrified him. When he yelled, he didn’t think about her reaction—didn’t think it would send her over the edge of her home and nearly fall. Cradling her, no matter how briefly, felt like heaven. Despite the circumstances. Regardless of if it was raining and at one in the morning. Even though his heart felt like it was in his throat and his stomach twisted with worry.

All Harry wanted to do was wrap her up in his arms, a blanket, anything, and hold her for as long as possible.

“Will you be kissing me when you drive me home?” She asked.

“Would that be okay?” He squeezed her hand.

Would it be okay if the hottest man she’d ever seen kissed her? Yeah. She’d be okay. She nodded. “Very okay.”

*

She felt her hands nearly shake as she opened the door. Harry stood a few feet away; his hands tucked into his pockets as he glanced around the front of her house. “The door sticks a little,” she warned.

“I could look at that,” he offered.

She gave it a little shove and pushed inside. Harry watched the skirt of her dress flutter with the movement, and she stepped into the doorway. Harry helped her get her coat off and hung up on her coat rack. “Do you want—”

Harry grabbed her by the hips, then turned her so her back was against the wall adjacent to the door that he kicked shut. He put his hand behind her head protectively as he pushed her. Once safely against the wall, he brought one hand to her face, the other on her waist. He gazed at her, his nose almost touching hers. His breath smelled like mint chocolate chip ice cream and hot fudge.

 She hoped she smelled like apples and not pasta or garlic. “M’pretty bouquet,” he hummed and brushed the back of his finger along her cheek. He wasn’t kidding about melting. And he still hadn’t kissed her yet. But was she breathing heavy? Panting? Like she had run a marathon? She thought she might lose her mind a little if he prolonged this. “This was the best date of m’life,” he brushed his thumb along her lower lip. “Can we have another?” He asked.

She nodded. “Please,” she breathed.

He grinned, nodded to himself happily. “M’gonna kiss you now, kitten. M’gonna make y’melt,” he promised.

“I’m sure,” her voice was hardly anything more than a whisper.

He smiled, leaned the final inch in, and covered her lips with his. She thought she was going to be embarrassed and moan but instead Harry beat her to it. And it was anything but embarrassing. She breathed out as he moved his mouth over hers, applying the most perfect amount of pressure.

An expert at fixing desks, a roof, and kissing. She should have known. His hand tangled in the back of her hair and brought her closer to him. His lips were soft and firm. A tantalizing, oxymoronic pressure that made her feel like her legs were going to give out. She grabbed a fistful of the front of his shirt in each hand. He licked and nipped at her, deepening the kiss. The hand at her waist shifted south, rubbing her hip, her leg through the skirt of her dress.

Harry moaned again, pulled away and dropped his lips to her jaw and he kissed down toward her ear, moved to her throat and brushed his lips against her collarbone. “Mm,” he sighed. “So good, Bird. So, so good,” he whispered into her skin. “Can I?” He asked, his hands drifting further south.

“Yes,” she whispered breathlessly. “Anything you want.”

He chuckled quietly; the air tickled her skin as he did. Slowly, he dropped his hands to cup around the side of her thighs, still politely over her skirt. He groaned. “So pretty, m’pretty Bird,” he slowly lifted until she was off the floor, her legs wrapped around his waist. “Don’t want y’melting all over the floor,” he murmured into her neck.

She didn’t care that her skirt rode up her hips and her underwear was probably showing. She hoped she picked a cute pair; that Harry would like her even if she wore comfy underwear too. “Mmm,” her hands moved to his shoulders, the back of his neck pulling him closer and wishing he could sink deeper into his mouth, his body, everything. She pushed away from the wall, nearly grinding into him as she wrapped herself tightly around him. She moaned softly, Harry groaning again in response as he pushed her back against the wall, her leg hitting against the table inside the entry way. Immediately, her pretty flowers and vase toppled to the ground and shattered.

Harry pulled away and sighed. “S’what I get for trying t’make y’life easier,” he smirked, kissed her cheek. “I’ll clean it up.”

“I could give two fucks about that,” she told him, her lips only a breath away from his. “Keep kissing me,” she begged.

He laughed again, brushed his nose against hers, “M’at your service, Miss Bee,” he whispered before parting her lips with his again.

*

She felt like she was floating at work. The little ones were all very excited about Halloween, their sand-witch party and everything. She wasn’t on top of her game because all she could think about was the hot construction worker just a short walk away from her. Her eyes drifted to the window. She wouldn’t be able to see him of course, but just the thought of him got her melting all over again.

It was a miracle she could sleep after Harry left her. The smile on her sore lips—she hadn’t felt sore from kissing since… well… ever—her mind spun with hundreds of thoughts all about Harry. Not a single lesson nor a bridal shower game entered her brain last night. The only thing she could think about was Harry.

Good morning, Miss Bee

She woke up to the text as her alarm rang for six o’clock. The time stamp said that Harry had been up for at least an hour. Biting her lip, she texted back. Good morning ☀️

Sleep well? He asked almost instantly.

Her heart skipped a beat. Yes, you?

Hard falling asleep when yesterday was so nice 😍

Agreed 🥰 I gotta get ready. See you at recess, maybe? I’ll be wearing blue and a head or two taller than the little ones.

Can’t wait, bird.

However, now she couldn’t find him through the window, and she had a class to tend to. But her lips still felt sore, and she couldn’t help but smile as she focused on the kindergarteners in front of her. “Did we all have a good weekend?” She asked as they moved to the carpet for another installment of Charlotte’s Web.

“Miss Bee, I tolded my mom that I want to be a construction worker when I growed up.”

She giggled. “Told and grown, my love,” she reminded Kai sweetly. “Are you going to dress up like one on Wednesday for our party?”

He nodded. “Mr. Harry is bringing me a hat and a vest,” he explained.

“Is he now?” She smiled.

“Yes. I asked him at recess.”

“Hmm,” she hummed. “That’s very nice of him. Maybe we’ll have to write him a thank you note, yeah?”

But she also thought she could thank him in other ways.

The kindergarteners didn’t need to know about that though.

*

Harry was sitting in a chair much too small for him. He happily cut up paper, glued, and drew with children that she loved so much.

Niall and he were eating sandwiches that were also much too small for them, and they still had a few hours of grueling work to do once they left the party.

But they didn’t bat an eye at the situation. They looked like they were enjoying themselves even. Every so often Niall would get up in his ketchup costume and inspect something amiss around her room, catching Harry’s eye. There was a nod from Harry, a silent conversation taking place about the problems in her room that he seemed to be keeping on a mental to-do list.

One thing that she noticed, it was really nice to have a few extra sets of hands in her room for the day. With twenty students using scissors and glue it was bound to get a little crazy.

“Miss Bee, Mr. Niall put four triangles on his pumpkin!” Janie said in excitement.

“No way!” She gasped.

Not that she didn’t believe Kai, but Harry did bring little hard hats and vests (with an Under Construction logo on the back) for the five students that said they wanted to be construction workers. He stopped by her classroom yesterday after school let out and he had a box in his hands and a sheepish smile on his lips. “I didn’t want t’be empty handed for the kids that aren’t planning t’be in the construction business.”

She blinked back tears as she inspected the package of vests and accessories of a variety of jobs. “Harry,” she said softly. “This is too much. It must have cos—”

“Probably a tenth of what y’spend on them in one year, bird. Don’t worry ‘bout it. ‘Ve spent m’money on a lot worse than the future,” he assured her.

She dropped the box between their feet and threw her arms around his neck and squeezed him tight. He chuckled as he pushed the box out of the way with his foot and lifted her gently as he squeezed her back.

“Miss Bee, I think Mr. Harry needs help,” Niall said knowingly, teasingly, from his table where a little girl was helping Niall with the glitter that he wanted to add to his pumpkin. They both giggled conspiratorially. She snorted.

“I do not!” Harry glared at his friend then looked up at her with the most innocent, adorable face she had ever seen on a grown man. “Niall’s a tattle tale.”

“Miss Bee says there are no tattle tales in her class, Mr. Harry,” Tyler explained. “She said we have to think about if we need to tell her something first. There’s rules on the wall for it by the clock.”

“Yeah, and I don’t think Niall needed to tell on me,” Harry grumbled.

“Miss Bee says it’s only a need if it’s a matter of safety.”

“This is not a matter of safety,” Harry muttered bitterly.

She giggled, which made his whole body feel warm and he wondered how on earth he could be so obsessed with someone’s laugh after just a few short weeks. It felt like a bad day if he didn’t hear it. “Miss Bee, can I have the broom?” Amara asked. She tugged on Miss Bee’s costume, a tulle green skirt, a matching headband with two wire pieces that had big M&M’s bouncing from side to side, and a green M&M shirt. The class giggled at her when she changed into it (put it over top of her leggings and white sweater dress.

“Of course, thank you for being so thoughtful to keep your space clean, Amara,” she praised so the others could hear and hopefully help with clean up when the sand-witch party was over.

She went to the side of the room where she kept the cleaning supplies in a cabinet closet. However, when she pulled the door open it fell right off the old hinges. She yelped as it hit her foot and face at the same time. Her free hand went to her nose instinctively, and she lost her grip of it with her other hand but still tried to stop it as it toppled toward the tables.

The little ones screamed a bit dramatically, but Niall and Harry jumped right into action, grabbing it before it hit anyone else or caused any (more) damage.

“Are you alright?” Harry asked quickly, putting a hand on her hip innocently enough and scanning her from head to toe.

“Ah,” she shook her head and moved her hand to find that naturally she had given herself a nosebleed. “Fuck,” she whispered so no one could hear but Harry.

“We can fix it!” The little ones that had on their hard hats were ready to go to work with Niall and Harry even though they were dressed as ketchup and mustard.

“Oh Miss Bee! You’re bleeding!” DJ was dressed as a doctor, a stethoscope at the ready thanks to Harry’s kind gift.

She winced. It felt like defeat showing weakness. “I’m alright, my love. I just need to use the restroom to clean myself up.”

“I can help too!” Brayden said. He was dressed as a nurse, with a mask on his face ready to help out as well.

Harry crouched to the future medical professionals. “I think Miss Bee jus’ needs minute t’herself,” he whispered. “When she comes out, I bet she’ll let you look her over so y’can give her a clean bill of health,” he winked.

They both nodded with understanding and headed back to their tables. Harry grabbed a few tissues and ushered her back toward the bathroom. He wanted to close the door for the sake of her privacy and he really wanted to tend to her the way he wanted to, but he was sure that would look very bad in front of twenty, nosy kindergarteners who loved their adorable teacher.

“Are you okay?” He asked softly as she washed the blood off her hands and face while trying to maintain composure in front of the guy that she had a massive crush on while dressed like an M&M and a nose pouring blood like a faucet.

“I’m so embarrassed,” she whispered.

He snorted. “For what? M’dressed as mustard,” he reminded her.

She smiled and winced at the pain it cause in her face. She shook her head. “The door landed on my foot,” she said. Harry crouched to the floor immediately. He took her ballet flat off like a reverse Cinderella and he still made her feel like princess. He brushed his fingers over her skin, and she hissed.

“S’a little scraped. We’ll have t’bandage y’up with your doctor and nurse,” he said from the ground while smiling up at her so cutely. A dumb, triangular cone on his head for his costume.

She already knew she was already falling hard for him, but she was almost certain she was going to tell a man dressed as a mustard bottle that she loved him in a kindergarten bathroom while she was wearing an M&M headband. She smiled again, holding a wad of tissues to her nose.

“Did it break y’nose?” He asked standing back up and skimming his fingertips along her cheek and tilting his head to get a better look to see if he missed some initial bruising.

She shook her head. “No… I just… I get nose bleeds very easily. I breathe too hard, and I start bleeding,” she sighed. “Sorry, that’s gross.”

“S’not gross, Bird,” he chuckled. “Jus’ making sure you’re alright.”

“I’m good. Thanks for getting me a minute to myself. We should probably go save Niall.”

“Niall’s fine, m’sure,” he promised. “If y’need another minute, I can go back out there with him.”

She wondered what the worst that could happen if she got caught kissing him during school hours.

“Mr. Harry,” fortunately they were interrupted by Milo before she could test any hypothesis. “Is Miss Bee going to die?”

He chuckled. “No, lad. M’thinking she’ll make it. We’re gonna check in with Dr. DJ and Nurse Brayden though,” he nodded and ushered the little one back toward the classroom. “Mr. Niall, y’think our little crew can help us repair the door?” He asked brightly. There was a chorus of cheers while she bit her lip.

“Miss Bee,” Zara whispered as she entered the classroom again. Zara was dressed as a baseball player which she loved more than most of the costumes she saw that day for a lot of different reasons. “Do you think you’re going to marry Mr. Harry?”

She smirked. “Are you trying to spread rumors about me, my love?” She asked with a giggle.

“No,” she giggled and put her hand on her mouth. “But I think you and Mr. Harry make a really cute couple. Like Lady and the Tramp or Delores and Mariano.”

She laughed. “Well, Mr. Harry and I are just friends,” she didn’t want the little ones knowing any of her private business when they were as involved with Harry as they currently were around the playground.

Niall returned from the outside entrance carrying a screw gun, a box of screws and few other items. “Guys and gals,” she moved over to where the group of five waited patiently with Harry and she crouched to their level. “Mr. Harry and Mr. Niall are being really nice to show you how to fix this. You have to listen to them very carefully. We’re not going to argue over who hands screws to them or ignore them if they say to let go or ask you to move out of the way, correct?” She eyed them seriously all in turn, all while keeping a tissue pressed to her nose.

“Yes, Miss Bee,” they sang in unison.

“They’re all yours, boys,” she gestured while standing up. “A good crew if I’ve ever seen one.”

“Thanks Miss Bee,” Niall pulled the trigger on the screw gun twice and Harry winked at her.

“Miss Bee can Brayden and me look you over now?”

“Brayden and I, my love,” she said gently with a nod. “Let’s go sit on the carpet, yeah?”

Harry smiled as she passed by him again brushing his hand along her back quickly and not even looking at her as he turned his attention back to Niall and his lesson of screw gun safety.

*

The sand-witch party was a huge success. She was already thinking of ways to make it better for the following year. Part of her was sad that Mr. Harry and Mr. Niall would likely be at a new job site. She wondered how that would change the dynamic of the party. Or if she was reading into it too much since it was a party for kindergarteners.

But once she got going it was hard to stop. There were so many learning targets she got to roll into one fun event. There were fine motor skills like gluing and using scissors, there was shapes, and prior to ketchup and mustard’s arrival, they wrote three sentences about the future career they had chosen and why they wanted it.

Harry and Niall said their goodbyes, took their pumpkins and some leftover sand-witches. “Who thinks the hexagon tasted best?” Niall asked as he bit into another one at the door. The class giggled at him, and they all shouted out their favorites and making a lot of noise while they waited expectantly for their departure. “Oops, sorry Miss Bee,” he said sheepishly.

She shrugged and smiled. “Zip it, lock it,” she said a little louder than normal.

“Put it in your pocket!” Then it was silent.

“That’s wicked,” Harry said almost dreamily. Niall snorted and hit his hand against Harry’s chest.

“Take it easy,” Niall muttered under his breath as he passed him to head back outside.

“All my friends love to thank Mr. Harry and Mr. Niall for coming to our party and hanging out with us!”

“Thank you!” The choir of six-year-olds cheered.

“See you later alligators,” Harry winked at them and waved as he and Niall stepped outside the room.

“In a while crocodile!” They all shouted back excitedly.

"Bye Miss Bird!" He practically cooed. He hoped the kids didn't notice but even if they did, he was having trouble caring.

“You’re an absolute goner,” Niall snickered as they headed back toward their job site. “Obsessed. In love,” he continued pulling the red ketchup hat cone off his head.

Harry smiled. “Mm, that obvious, hmm?”

Niall chuckled. “Think she’s a bit smitten too,” he said. “No one in their right mind would have sided with you about me being a tattle tale if they didn’t like you that much,” he reminded him and flicked his cheek before running ahead toward the jobsite again.

“You’re acting like a kindergartener!” Harry shouted.

“I know you are but what am I!?”

*

The remainder of the day was a little rowdy. Fun, learning got done, but she was very excited for the day to be over and very excited that there was a professional development day without her sugary students following Halloween night.

“See you all Friday!” She said cheerfully as her students scattered toward the busses and cars in the lot for pick up. She stood at her post outside where she always did, waving and grinning at former students, coworkers, and even a few parents as they tried to sneak out before the fleet of busses.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Harry at the fence, waving from afar, to those that knew who he was as well. “Miss Bee,” Milo tugged on her skirt as they all got ready for dismissal. She crouched next to him and smiled happily.

“Yes, my love? What can I do for you?”

“My uncle is picking me up today,” he smiled excitedly.

“Oh yeah? Is he taking you trick or treating?”

He nodded excitedly, his little construction hat bobbling back and forth. “Do you want to meet him?” He asked shyly.

“Of course, Milo,” she grinned. “I have to tell him what a great reader you’re becoming and how good you are at line leading,” she said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He took her hand and pulled her toward the exit. As they approached the end of the bus port, she had a better view of Harry. His coworkers booking it out before they got stuck behind busses but not him. She felt a smile twinge on her lips as she waved goodbye to other little ones that wanted her attention.

“Well, hello there.”

She nearly froze in her tracks. Her gaze snapped forward at the sound of his voice. Milo’s hand released hers and he launched himself forward at the man before her. “Careful of your shoes on my clothes, buddy,” he chuckled. “Funny seeing you here,” he ruffled Milo’s hair and winked at her.

“This is Miss Bee,” Milo introduced.

“Miss Bird, I thought,” he continued smiling at her. But it felt like she was watching a documentary of a safari. She felt like a gazelle completely at the disadvantage.

“Miss Bee is a nickname,” Milo explained.

She must have looked like a goldfish, her mouth opening and closing trying to find the words. A deer in headlights if there ever was one. “So you’re the famous Miss Bee,” he chuckled. Like it was a private joke that only he knew the punchline too.

For a moment, she forgot she was a teacher. A member of the town community with a reputation she needed to uphold. She wanted to run away. Or slap him across the face. Yank Milo out of his arms and take him home with her instead. There was no way she could let sweet, little Milo out trick-or-treating with the likes of his uncle. But instead, she mustered as much strength as she did when she wasn’t feeling well, when she was exhausted, or when her life outside the classroom was falling apart and she was expected to continue smiling in front of her little group of young minds. She plastered a smile on her face and pretended everything was fine as she finally spoke, “Evan.”

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