#harryfluff

Lucas cut in, his voice sharp. "Think you're being clever, do you? Breaking up something real like that? Well, here's the truth—Harry's head wasn't turned at all. You're just causing drama for the sake of it."

Sophia’s calm façade cracked slightly as she glanced around at the glares from the group. “Why are you all acting like I’ve committed a crime? It’s a game.”

“No, it’s people’s feelings,” Chloe spat. “But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

Meanwhile, Harry moved toward Y/N, who was still seated on the bench, her face pale but composed. He crouched down in front of her, his hands hovering as if unsure whether to touch her.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his voice thick with regret. “I swear to you, this wasn’t what I wanted. I told her I didn’t—”

“I know,” Y/N interrupted, her voice steady but quiet. She looked at him, her eyes filled with shock rather than anger. “I know it wasn’t you. I’m not mad at you.”

His shoulders sagged in relief, but guilt still lingered in his expression. “You believe me?”

“I do,” she whispered. “I just… I didn’t see this coming. I don’t even know what to think right now.”

Harry nodded, his hands finally reaching for hers. “We’ll figure it out, okay? I’m not giving up on us.”

Their conversation was cut short by Chloe’s sharp voice. “Oi, Sophia, if you think you’re getting away with this, think again!”

The group had fully turned against Sophia now. Even Max, who often stayed out of the drama, shook his head. “You crossed a line, Sophia. There’s no coming back from this.”

Ian’s voice cut through the chaos in his usual dry tone. “Well, Sophia’s big move didn’t quite land the way she thought it would. It’s like trying to light a sparkler in a hurricane—good luck with that, love.”

Sophia, realizing she was completely outnumbered, huffed and walked off toward the villa, her heels clicking sharply against the stone.

The group began to disperse, but the damage had been done. Y/N was left sitting by the fire pit, Harry by her side, both of them processing the night’s events. He gently brushed a strand of hair from her face, his voice low.

“You’re not leaving. I won’t let that happen.”

Y/N gave him a small smile, though her eyes still betrayed her nerves. “Let’s just see what tomorrow brings.”

The makeup room hummed with quiet activity as the girls trickled in one by one. Chloe immediately grabbed Y/N's hand and guided her to the chair in front of the mirror. "Sit, babe. You need to take a breath for a second."

Amber grabbed a tissue from the counter and handed it to Y/N, her tone soft but firm. “You’ve been holding it together all night. You don’t have to do that here.”

Y/N tried to muster a smile, but the lump in her throat made it impossible. The moment she looked up at the girls—Chloe, Amber, and the others all standing around her, their faces full of concern—it hit her like a wave. Everything. The recoupling, Sophia’s betrayal, the looming uncertainty about her place in the villa. It was too much.

“I—” Her voice cracked, and she looked down, shaking her head. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” Chloe said gently, crouching beside her. “And that’s okay. We’re here for you.”

At that, Y/N’s walls crumbled. Tears spilled over her cheeks as she finally let herself feel everything. Chloe wrapped her arms around her, holding her tightly while Amber rubbed her back.

“I just… I don’t understand,” Y/N sobbed. “I might be leaving tomorrow, and it’s just—it’s too much.”

“She’s a snake, that’s why,” Amber said firmly. “She doesn’t care about anyone but herself, and we all see it. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Exactly,” Chloe agreed. “You’re not leaving, okay? We won’t let that happen.”

Lila piped up from across the room, her tone warm. “You’re one of the strongest girls here, Y/N. Everyone knows it. And Harry? He’s mad about you. Don’t let Sophia’s petty little game make you doubt that.”

“She’s jealous,” Amber added. “That’s all this is. She’s jealous of you, your connection with Harry, everything. And if she thinks this stunt is going to get her what she wants, she’s in for a rude awakening.”

Y/N sniffled, dabbing at her eyes with the tissue. “It’s just… overwhelming, you know? I didn’t expect any of this.”

“We know,” Chloe said softly. “But you’re not alone, babe. We’ve got you.”

The girls nodded in unison, each offering words of comfort and solidarity. The energy in the room shifted, transforming it into a safe space where Y/N could release her emotions without judgment.

“Thanks, guys,” Y/N said finally, her voice still shaky but steadier than before. “I don’t know what I’d do without you lot.”

As Y/N finished wiping her eyes, her soft smile still lingering, the door to the makeup room creaked open. The girls instinctively straightened, their chatter halting as Sophia walked in, arm-in-arm with Georgia. The room’s atmosphere shifted in an instant, the warmth replaced by a chill of unease.

Chloe raised an eyebrow, muttering under her breath, “Oh, here we go…”

Sophia’s confident smirk didn’t waver as she glanced around the room. Her gaze settled on Y/N for a fraction longer than necessary, and the tension became palpable. Georgia, whose posture mirrored Sophia’s smugness, leaned against the doorframe with her arms crossed, her expression unreadable but clearly siding with her newfound ally.

Amber let out a low scoff, folding her arms. “Guess snakes travel in pairs now.”

Sophia’s smirk widened. “Don’t stop on our account, girls. We’re all friends here, aren’t we?”

Chloe took a deliberate step forward, her chin raised. “Friends? You’re joking, right? Because the last time I checked, friends don’t throw each other under the bus for a lad.”

“Ah, Chloe.” Sophia’s tone was mock-sweet, her smile sharp. “Always the loudest in the room, aren’t you?”

“Better than being the most desperate,” Chloe shot back without missing a beat.

Georgia, stepping further into the room, chuckled dryly. “You lot are acting like Sophia’s the villain when she’s just doing what the game’s about. Recoupling, yeah? Isn’t that the point?”

Amber stood up, her glare cutting through the tension. “There’s a difference between playing the game and playing dirty, Georgia. But I wouldn’t expect you to know the difference.”

Sophia raised a hand, feigning innocence. “Alright, let’s not make this a whole thing. I came in to grab my gloss, not to start World War Three.”

Her gaze flicked to Y/N again, this time sharper. “You alright, Y/N? Looked like you were having a little moment there.”

Y/N didn’t flinch. She sat a little straighter, her expression calm despite the anger bubbling beneath her surface. “I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”

The girls around her bristled, ready to jump in, but Y/N’s steady demeanor seemed to hold them back. It was Chloe who finally broke the silence.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve walking in here after the shit you’ve pulled, Sophia.”

Sophia rolled her eyes, grabbing her gloss from the counter. “Oh, give it a rest, Chloe. You’d do the same if you were in my shoes.”

“Thing is, I’d never be in your shoes,” Chloe snapped. “Because I’ve got a thing called loyalty.”

Sophia let out a low laugh, linking her arm with Georgia’s again as she turned toward the door. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, babe.”

As the pair left the room, Georgia glanced back with a smirk. “Have fun licking your wounds.”

The door closed behind them, leaving the room heavy with silence.

Amber exhaled sharply. “I swear, if looks could kill…”

Chloe turned to Y/N, her voice softer now. “You okay, babe?”

Y/N nodded, her hands gripping the edge of the counter. “Yeah. Let them have their moment. It won’t last.”

Amber stepped closer, placing a hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “Damn right it won’t. We’ve got your back.”

Y/N looked at her reflection in the mirror, her resolve hardening. “Good,” she said, her voice steady. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

“Well, well, well. Looks like things in the villa have hit boiling point, and we’re not just talking about the Spanish sun. Sophia and Georgia, arm-in-arm, marching into the makeup room like two villains in a budget action movie? Iconic. But let’s be honest—Y/N’s calm clap-back was the real power move here”

The villa had a strange, tense quietness about it as the Islanders wound down for the night. The usual chatter and laughter had been replaced with hushed whispers and awkward glances. In the shared bathroom, Harry stood at the sink, brushing his teeth with slow, deliberate motions. His mind raced, replaying the chaos of the evening, especially the image of Y/N's face when Sophia made her bold move.

He spat into the sink, rinsing his mouth as he leaned on the counter, staring at his reflection. The weight of the drama was heavy on his chest, but there was only one thought in his mind: he couldn’t let Sophia dictate his actions—or his feelings.

Walking into the dimly lit bedroom, Harry spotted the bed he now technically shared with Sophia. She was already lying there, her hair fanned out over the pillow and a coy smile on her lips as she propped herself up on one elbow.

“Hey,” she greeted softly, her tone intentionally sweet. “Finally decided to join me?”

Harry didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he reached for the pillow beside her, tugging it out from under the covers.

“What are you doing?” Sophia asked, her voice sharper now, but still attempting to stay light.

Harry straightened up, clutching the pillow in his hand. His jaw tightened as he looked down at her. “I’m sleeping somewhere else tonight.”

Sophia’s smile faltered, and she sat up fully. “Harry, come on. We’ve got to share this bed. It’s part of the rules.”

“I’m not breaking any rules by sleeping somewhere else,” he replied calmly but firmly. “And let’s not pretend this situation is normal, Sophia.”

Sophia tilted her head, her tone shifting to one of mock innocence. “You’re acting like I forced you into something. This is what the game is about—recoupling. If Y/N can’t handle it—”

Harry cut her off, his voice low but filled with warning. “Don’t bring her into this. Y/N’s not the problem here, Sophia.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she didn’t push further.

Across the room, Chloe gave Y/N a look of encouragement, whispering, "Go after him."

Without hesitating, Y/N threw back the covers, slipped on her slippers, and quietly followed Harry out of the room. The dimly lit hallway led her to the common room, where she found him lying on the long couch, his arm draped over his eyes.

She stopped in the doorway, hesitating for just a moment. The sight of him there—alone, clearly grappling with everything that had happened—made her chest ache.

“Harry,” she said softly, stepping into the room.

He shifted slightly, lowering his arm to look at her. “Hey” His voice was low, almost a whisper.

She walked closer, her bare feet padding softly against the floor. “Why are you out here?”

Harry let out a small sigh, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. “I couldn’t stay in there. Not with her.” He paused, meeting her eyes. “I just… I couldn’t.”

Y/N bit her lip, her fingers nervously playing with the hem of her pajama top. “You didn’t have to leave your bed, Harry. It’s your spot now. You shouldn’t have to—”

“I’m not staying in a bed with someone I don’t want to be with,” he interrupted firmly. His gaze softened as he looked at her. “I’m not giving her what she wants, Y/N. She can choose me, but she can’t make me care.”

Her heart fluttered at his words, but she quickly pushed it aside, focusing instead on the overwhelming guilt and sadness she felt for him. Without thinking, she sat down on the edge of the couch beside him.

“You didn’t deserve any of this,” she murmured, her voice barely audible. “I hate that this is happening.”

Harry reached out, his hand brushing against hers. “You think I care about any of it? The only thing I care about is you.”

Her breath hitched, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. The room felt heavy with unspoken words, but Y/N didn’t want to ruin the moment by overthinking it.

“Come here,” Harry said softly, pulling her gently toward him.

His free hand came up to gently tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch lingering as his fingers brushed against her cheek. “Nothing’s going to go wrong,” he murmured. “Not with us.”

His words were simple, but the sincerity in his voice made her chest tighten. Y/N searched his face, looking for any trace of doubt, but all she found was a steady, unwavering gaze that seemed to anchor her in place.

“You say that,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly, “but I’m scared, Harry. What if—”

Harry cut her off by leaning closer, his forehead resting against hers. “Stop,” he said softly. “Stop doubting this. Stop doubting me.”

Y/N closed her eyes, breathing in the familiar scent of him—fresh and warm, comforting in a way that made her feel safe.

“Every time I look at you,” Harry continued, his voice a low rumble, “I know exactly what I want. You. It’s always been you.”

Her eyes fluttered open, and before she could second-guess herself, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, but it quickly deepened as Harry’s hand moved to the small of her back, pulling her closer.

Y/N melted into him, her fingers threading through his hair as their kiss grew more fervent, more desperate. It was as if all the tension and uncertainty of the day had boiled over, leaving nothing but raw emotion in its wake.

Harry's lips trailed down her neck, each kiss sending electric shivers down her spine. Y/N's fingers dug into his shoulders as he found that sensitive spot just below her ear, drawing a soft gasp from her lips. The world seemed to fade away until there was nothing but the heat between them, the way his hands traced fire across her skin, and the intoxicating rhythm of their hearts beating in sync.

"You drive me crazy," Harry whispered against her skin, his voice rough with desire. His hands tangled in her hair as he claimed her lips again in a kiss that made her toes curl and her mind go beautifully blank. In that moment, all the drama of the villa melted away—there was only this, only them, wrapped up in each other on the common room couch.

-----------------------------

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Eli sighs contently as she strolls along the sidewalk. The leaves on the trees are transitioning from their summery green to the warm yellows, deep reds, and burnt oranges. The sun is shining yet the air is crisp, the perfect weather for a sweater because the academic buildings haven’t yet turned on the heat.

It’s a perfect fall day.

Only, she isn’t wearing a sweater. Instead, she has on a fitted pink knit top that she’s paired with straight light-washed jeans and her classic white sneakers. Her tote bag rests on her shoulder, a sweatshirt shoved in there that she’ll put on after her little rendezvous. And, speaking of which, she’s approaching the designated spot and can already see her acquaintance waiting for her.

He greets Eli with a flirty grin that he seems to reserve only for her. He has plenty of other signature smirks and smiles, ones that he uses on other people, but only she receives this special grin, the ‘Eli grin’ as he likes to call it. “Hey, babygirl.”

She smiles back, for some reason feeling giddy. Actually, she knows the reason: it’s because he’s really fucking hot. he knows it. Everyone knows it. She can’t help but get a little flustered every time someone as gorgeous as him gives her a sliver of his attention. “Hey, Harry. How are you?” His tone is way too suggestive to say to someone who’s in a relationship, but Harry’s never been one to shy away from a challenge. “Much better now.” He walks toward her, meeting Eli halfway and lifting his arms. She walks right into him, hugging him around his waist and resting her head on his shoulder. He gives great hugs; he’s firm yet gentle, and he always holds the embrace for a while. She’s pretty sure he only hugs her like this.

Eli inhales deeply, reveling in his signature scent of mary jane and Old Spice. Within the last couple of weeks, whenever she gets a whiff of that sweet scent, she thinks of him. Then the fluttery feeling usually (always) follows.

He’s looking especially cozy today, decked in a pair of baggy grey sweatpants, the bottoms cuffed and revealing white Nike socks that are scrunched down. He’s wearing a hot pink sweatshirt, the hood covering his curly brown hair, the words ‘Girly Girl’ printed underneath a rainbow on his chest—he had found it at the thrift store, and when he discovered it was in his size, he claimed it was “fate”—just like meeting her was “fate.” It matches his shoes, a pair of light pink Reebok sneakers to which he never bothers tying the laces.

Harry squeezes Eli tightly, until a strained squeak leaves her lips. He hums, treasuring the last few moments before letting go and stepping back with a soft, cheeky smile on his face.

She cocks her head to the side. “You seem tired.”

He nods, rubbing his eye with the knuckle of his index finger. “I am, baby. Spent all fucking night writing a stupid fucking paper for philosophy.” Then, he adds sheepishly (or, as sheepishly as Harry Styles can get), “I may have been really fucking high while writing it, but I already submitted it, so, fuck it.” He shrugs. “I feel like I’m at my fucking best when I’m high though.” He sets his hands on his waist and shifts his weight onto one foot. He nods at Eli with a serious expression on his face, letting her know that he meant what he said. “My creative juices are flowing faster than the fucking speed of light, ya know?”

“No.” She shakes her head, wrapping her arms around herself to avoid shivering. Before Harry opens his mouth, she says forcefully, “I don’t want your sweatshirt,” which is a lie; she does want his sweatshirt, because she likes it and thinks it’s cute, but not in this situation where he’s asking only because he wants to be flirty with her.

He shakes his head. His backpack hangs in one shoulder, and he swings the pack around to the front of his chest to dig inside. “Don’t know why you didn’t bring a fucking sweatshirt. It’s cold, baby, you’ll get sick.”

He hands her the stash, and instead of saying thank you, Eli asks jokingly, “Do you know my name?”

He grins at her. “I don’t need to when ‘baby’ suits you just fine.”

She sighs, then slaps the cash into his open palm. He tries to close his fingers around her hand, but she wrangles it out with a sweet giggle that sounds like music to Harry’s ears.

“Well,” she stands tall, pushing her shoulders back and, consequently, her chest out. She can feel the soft fabric of her shirt shift against her nipples, the cold only making them more sensitive as they harden. She doesn’t miss the way Harry’s eyes drift down; it’s why she’s wearing this shirt in the middle of October. Harry gives her the “hot-girl discount” (his words), and she gives him a nice, personal “hot-girl thank you” (her words) in the form of her nipples peeking through her shirt. It’s a win-win.

Her boyfriend hates it, despite the fact that she never wears a bra anyway. Yet he claims she’s doing it for Harry which…she is, but it’s for the discount, and she doesn’t ever hear him complaining about the discount.

The corners of Harry’s lips quirk up into a smirk. Then he bites into his bottom lip. “Try not to get through this shit too quickly this time, hot stuff, yeah? I worry about you and your pretty little fucking lungs.”

“Yeah,” Eli says, deciding to play along. She pops a hip and plays with the hem of her shirt, pursing her lips. Her voice takes on an obviously forced tilt of innocence, laced heavily with flirty suggestion. “I’m not really sure I’m doing it right.”

Harry’s voice drops, the deep baritone sending shivers through her body. Her nipples could cut through steel right now. “Well, you know you’re always welcome at my place. I’ll show you how to do it all right.”

She tries not to snort; she may have accidentally revealed to Harry that her boyfriend isn’t exactly the king of the bed. He hasn’t forgotten about it—in fact, he’s continuously reminded her that he remembers, even in front of her boyfriend, who, thankfully, hasn’t realized. He’s picking up on it though, because Harry isn’t exactly subtle.

She sighs lightly, continuing the act of innocence. “Yeah, maybe. I’d really appreciate it.” Then her voice returns to normal, a genuine smile growing on her lips. Harry returns his own, and they take a moment to bask in each other’s presence before she says, “Bye, Harry.”

“Bye, babygirl. Can’t wait to see your pretty fucking face again.”

—

You woke up late Sunday night with tear-stained cheeks. Harry gave you your space, being very cautious around you. He only gave you one little peck and asked if you were ok.

When you said you were, he left because he had to go to work the next day and pick up his car. Your relationship almost felt like you were walking on eggshells. Your dad had ruined everything.

You decided to drown your sorrows in a whole bottle of wine and binge-watched How I Met Your Mother until you passed out again on the couch.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning the faint sound of your phone alarm under the pillow woke you up. "Huh?" You asked as you startled yourself awake. "Shit. I'm going to be late."

You didn't even care about a shower. You just got changed, made your hair look presentable, and threw on some make-up in the car.

Of course, you were hitting every red light on the way there. "Come ON!"

Tears started to come out of your eyes again after the memories of last night came back to you. You finally got to work, 15 minutes late, and you ran to your desk.

You worked in customer service and your boss was a little nerving, but trying to get a job with your degree- in Social Media Management- hadn't been easy to get into right out of college, so you settled. Plus, it paid the bills and you very rarely had to work nights or weekends.

You took your headset out of your desk and clocked in, trying to log on as quickly as possible. You didn't have your coffee this morning and you already felt a headache forming.

You worked with Carly and Jade whereas you met Whitney in school. Carly leaned over to you and whispered. "Yo, are you ok? You're never late."

"Long story," you told her. But honestly, if you explained you would have cried and you had a call coming through. You took a deep breath and answered the call. "Hello. Thank you for calling (y/company/n). This is (Y/N). How can I help you?"

You answered a few more calls and then sat back on your chair and took a breather. Carly came over when she was taking her 15 minutes break and sat on your desk. "Spill."

"I told my dad about me and... Harry," you swallowed.

"Oh. How'd it go?"

"Not good," you said, rubbing your hands down your legs.

"Oh no!" Carly bit her lip. "What happened?"

"My dad yelled... loudly... and he threatened Harry with a knife. Threatened to send me, an adult, off to boarding school," you told her.

She chuckled quietly but then offered you a hug. "Sorry. I'm here if you need a girl's night or a hug or just to rant."

"Thanks, girl," you said.

Carly hugged you again and then went back to her desk. Just as you were about to get up and grab some coffee from the break room, your boss called you over.

You bit your lip and then stood in his office. "Yes sir?"

"You were late today."

"Yes, but I can explain," you said.

"Ok," he put his paperwork down. "Please do."

"I-."

He stared at you and raised his eyebrows.

"I got into a fight with my dad about my boyfriend and it was a whole thing," you explained.

"(Y/N), if I let a fight with my wife get into my head, I'd be late every day. You have to separate personal from business," he said.

"I know but-"

"No buts, (Y/N)," he rubbed his temple.

"I'm never late sir. And I always make the coffee for everyone here. And I was only 15 minutes late because there was traffic and I never take off and-."

"You just took off for a week two months ago," he pointed out.

"That was my first vacation request in two years, sir," you pleaded. "And it was technically 4 days with the weekend."

"Irrelevant (Y/N)," he stopped you. "Being late is unacceptable. Take the rest of the day without pay."

"But sir!"

"We can make it a week," he warned.

You shook your head. "I'll grab my purse and go."

You walked away from his office and held back a sob. You grabbed your purse. You told Carly you'd call her later, and walked out back to your car, where you cried more.

You drove home and threw your purse on the couch and got changed into your pajamas. You knew Harry was at work so you couldn't call him, but you texted him instead and asked him if he could talk.

When he texted you back not a minute later you thought it was weird, but you still answered him.

What's up, love? Need me to send some flowers to work? He texted

You bit your lip, smiling so big at his offer. No. I wish... but I'm not at work.

Oh?

They sent me home for the day without pay because I was late

You didn't get a text back, but Harry was calling you. "Har, aren't you at work?"

"Not important. What do yeh mean they sent yeh home?"

"I-I. I had a little wine after you left and I overslept. There was so much traffic because I was later that I wound up being 15 minutes late," you explained, your voice cracking.

"And he let yeh go home for 15 minutes?"

"That's what I said!" You almost yelled into the phone. "I told him that I've never been late before and that I never miss work."

"What did he say?" He asked with labored breath.

"Pointed out that I took a week off in September for our getaway and I told him that it was only a few days due to the weekend."

"And he didn't care?" Harry asked with a sad tone in his voice.

"No," you broke down. "Told me I was pushing a week with no pay. So I just agreed and left."

Harry sighed. He couldn't help but think this was his fault. He stayed late. He didn't check on you in the morning. "'M sorry."

"It's not your fault, H."

"I know, but it just sucks. Men suck," he said.

"Yeah," you chuckled. "Sometimes they do."

He chuckled too and then a silence fell over the phone. "Well, I should let you go before they take away your phone."

Harry chuckled again. "Yeah... ok. If yeh need me again, just text me, ok?"

"Ok..."

"Hey (Y/N)?" Harry asked.

"Yes, H?" You bit your lip.

"I-I love yeh. Don't forget that," he said with a smile in his voice.

You practically let out a sob. "I love you too, Har."

"Talk later, hun."

"Bye."

You hung up the phone and sighed, wondering what to do with the rest of your day.

~~~~~~

When it was almost time for Harry to be done with work, you texted him to come over whenever he had time. Despite the crazy day you had, you missed him.

Usually, Harry was done around 5, got home around 5:20, showered, fed his cat, changed, and was at your place by 6:30, 7, at the latest. It was nearly 8 and the last text he sent you was at 5:01 saying he would come later.

Finally, at 8:15, his keys jangled in your door and you breathed out a sigh of relief. However, the man walking through your door didn't look like your boyfriend. He had a baseball cap on, something you never saw Harry wear, sunglasses, and a scarf wrapped around his head. It was November but it wasn't that cold.

"Harry! Finally," you ran over to him. "I was worried about you."

"Sorry," he said, closing the door. "I- got distracted."

You chuckled. "That's ok. What's with the get-up though?"

"Uh. 'M cold... and I don't want yer dad to see me coming in here," he quickly said.

You raised an eyebrow. "It's 50 degrees (F) and my dad is not here." You cringed at the mention of him.

"Oh, well... better to be safe than sorry, right?" He said.

Another thing that was weird was that he hadn't kissed you yet. He always gave you a peck as soon as he came in the door. "Well, can I get my kiss at least?"

"Uh... maybe later," he said, going to sit on your couch.

"You know you're inside now. You don't have to hide. I can turn the heat up too if you're cold," you said.

"'M fine," he said coldly. You folded your arms at him and pouted.

"H, Please tell me what's wrong. Why are you wearing this ridiculous get-up? " you said, sitting down on the couch next to him.

Harry sighed. "I guess it'd be easier to just show yeh."

You bit your lip and sat back on your feet as he sat up and took the accessories off of him. He started with the hat and his messy curls brought a smile to your face. But that soon faded when he unwrapped the scarf and then took off the sunglasses.

Harry's lip was bloody and swollen. Cuts were in it like someone took a fist to it. His eye was black and blue, bloodshot, and swollen. He looked like he just got into a fight. A strangled scream wanted to come out of your throat.

"Oh my God! What happened?" You asked, scooting over closer to him.

"I got jumped after I got fired."

Your dad was number two at the company right under the CEO. Harry was number 5, but your dad never acted like his boss... well until today. But you were more concerned about someone attacking him.

"YOU GOT WHAT?" you asked.

"Yeah. I didn't want to tell yeh because I didn't yeh to worry," he said quietly.

"Baby," you sighed. "Oh, I wish you would have told me sooner. We could have called the cops or got you medical help!"

He frowned but then winced because it hurt to frown. "'M fine."

"No. You're not!" You got up to go get him ice for his lips and a bag of corn for his eye. When you came back, you put the compresses on his face and he groaned. "Sorry baby."

"S' fine. Thank yeh."

"Do you want to go to the emergency room?" You asked. "I really think you should."

"No," he reached out and grabbed your thigh. "I want to stay here with m' girl, who is the best nurse ever, and just try to forget this whole thing ever happened. Plus all they're gonna give me is ice anyway," he closed his eyes.

"Ok. If you have any pain or blurry vision, you need to tell me, ok?" You sniffled.

He nodded. "Promise, darling. Right now, 'm ok."

Harry frowned and placed the ice back on him. His hands remained on your sides as you sat on his lap. You rested your hands on his chest, pouting at his bruised face. "Do you want to tell me what happened? You don't have to. I'm just... curious."

He sighed and adjusted the ice on his face. You moved to sit on the couch and he laid his head on your lap. "Well, after I got the news that I was fired, yeh called. So I went into the bathroom to talk to yeh. I didn't want to tell yeh over the phone."

"I took m' small box of stuff and walked to m' car. I noticed it already had the tail lights beaten in, so I put the box in the backseat and went to go check it out. Well, that was a bad idea."

"When I walked to the back of the car, someone pushed me to the ground. All I knew next was that m' eye was bruised, only able to see out of the other one. Then the other guy..."

"THERE WERE TWO GUYS?" you asked.

"Yeah," he adjusted the ice on his face. "There weren't too big though. I could've taken them if I saw them comin'."

You ran your hands through his hair. "I know you could've, H."

He continued: "The other guy punched me straight in the lip at least five times. I couldn't get up. I couldn't see. But I could hear... I heard the one guy mumble something. And I heard yer name. Then the other guy said, 'Finish him, Ryan.' And he kicked me in the stomach."

You gasped after hearing the whole story. "Harry..."

"I just laid there—a ringing in my ears and my face in pain. Luckily, one of my coworkers came out 10 minutes later for their lunch break and saw me lying there. They wanted to drive me to the hospital but I said no. I came home and I meant to answer yeh, but I couldn't face yeh. And now we're here."

"Honey, I'm so sorry. Wait... did you say Ryan?" you asked, sitting up a bit.

"Yeah."

"Like Ryan Ryan?" You asked nervously.

"I think so, (Y/N). Him and his friend," Harry closed his eyes as he laid on your lap.

He didn't stay down for long though, as you got up in anger and paced around the room. "So Ryan knows. Dad must have told him. This is great," you chuckled. "He seems more pissed than dad."

Harry sat up. "I think yer dad convinced Ryan and his mate to do this so he wouldn't get in trouble or get fired."

"Yeah. Not like Ryan has a job to worry about," you rolled your eyes.

Harry chuckled, as he laid down on your couch with his eyes closed.

You paced back and forth, a disgusting feeling in your stomach. You literally felt nauseous. Your boyfriend was all beat up and bruised and your brother did it because your dad probably paid him to. Why couldn't they handle this like adults?

You started to hyperventilate and Harry opened his eyes and sat up quickly. "Oh, darling. 'S ok. 'S fine. 'M fine. C'mere."

You sat on his lap, looking down at the button on his shirt because if you looked at his face again you would probably burst out crying. "I'm sorry this happened to you," you whispered.

He shrugged. "Better me than yeh."

"No," you sat up straighter. "It's not. It shouldn't have happened at all. We're fucking adults. If people don't like that THEN OH WELL! But to go to extremes like this just makes me so mad."

"Calm down, baby. Calm down. Shh," he pushed your hair behind your ear. "I know. It sucks. I know. But yeh can't stress over this. It's just going to make it worse."

"THEY BEAT YOU UP HARRY!"

"We can't do anything 'bout it now. It happened," he shrugged.

"Stop being so nonchalant about this, H!" You said, getting up and grabbing your purse. "I'm going to talk to them. So we can solve this like adults."

Despite being in pain, Harry got up and grabbed your arm. "(Y/N), yeh aren't going anywhere near that place. If they do something like this to you, there's no telling what I'll do back to them. And then we'll only see each other through the glass because I'll be in jail. Please. Let them cool down a bit. And then we can talk 'bout it."

"Fine," you sighed and went to sit back down. "And why did they fire you? Was it because of my dad?" You asked.

Harry chuckled. "Technically Rich (the CEO) did the firing but yer dad stood right there and smirked the entire time. Said... they wanted someone younger," he shrugged.

"They just can't do that," you said. "You know this was all my dad's doing, right?"

"Well they did," Harry shrugged again. "And I know. Of course, I know it was. 'S fine. I'll be fine."

You sighed. "I can move back home if you need me to. Don't worry about paying for this."

"No no. 'M fine. Got enough money saved up. Yeh are not going home to that mess (Y/N). Yeh can bet on that," he said.

You touched your neck. "Well, what about my necklace? We can sell it and get the money back."

"Uh no. That was a gift. Thank yeh very much," he said. "We're not returning it."

You sighed and Harry flinched from pain.

You got up. "Wait right there. I'll get you some Tylenol and a wet towel to clean up your lip. Just stay here and rest please," you said, leaning over and kissing him on his exposed cheek.

You went to the kitchen to get a warm towel and rung it out and a glass of water. Then you scurried to the bathroom to get the medicine. But before you exited, you put your hand over your mouth and let out a sob. You couldn't let Harry know you were terrified. You cried a heavy cry, the warm towel turning cold.

After calming down and taking a few heavy breaths, you wiped your eyes, picked up the supplies, and went out to Harry. He groaned but half smiled when you came back. You gave him a half smile, trying to hide your puffy eyes. "Here you go, baby."

Harry sat up and took the medicine down with the water. He removed the ice for a second and sat up, so you could wipe his lip off. "This might sting a little, babe. Just tell me if it does, ok?"

He nodded. You lightly pressed the towel to his lips, wiping off the blood and cleaning the cuts. Harry winced, but it felt good at the same time. He looked into your eyes with his bruised ones and looked so sad.

When you were done cleaning up his lip, you put the towel on the other cuts along his face. Your heart was beating a mile a minute. "There we go. All better."

He pouted.

"What?" You asked.

"A kiss would make it all better," he tried to smirk, but quickly stopped as it hurt.

"Oh, now you want a kiss?" You joked.

He nodded. "Please."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"Yeh won't," he said, grabbing your hips. "Need yer kisses for a full recovery."

You shook your head and chuckled. "That's how it works, huh?"

"'S what I heard," he shrugged, with a small smirk.

You leaned forward and placed a small peck on his lips. Harry hummed. "More."

He pulled your chin close and kissed your lips a few times. His hands ran up your sides and tried to sneak his tongue in, but when he opened his mouth more, he grimaced in pain.

You pulled back not wanting to hurt him. "Ok. I think that's enough for now."

You continued to sit on his lap, with your hands on his shoulders until you realized you wanted answers.

"If I can't confront my dad, can I at least call my mom and see if she knows anything?" You asked.

"Be my guest," he said, tired of arguing with you.

You climbed off Harry and grabbed your phone from the table. You hit your mom's contact on your phone and waited for her to pick up. It went to the third ring and then you heard her say "hello?"

"Mom."

"Hey (Y/N). What's up?" She asked.

"Did dad... or Ryan say anything to you today?" You asked.

"No. About what? Ryan's been out all day with one of his friends and your dad just got home from work. Should they have said anything?"

You sighed. "Mom. I don't know how to say this but Harry got up beat up today... and he thinks Ryan and a friend did it."

"WHAT!?!? Is he ok?" She asked, her voice panicky.

"He's fine. Icing his face as we speak. He won't go to the emergency room," you said, looking over at him, who just waved you off. "But he'll be ok."

"Oh that's good to hear.... But why does he think Ryan did it?" She asked.

"Well... when he was lying on the ground practically unconscious, he heard someone say 'Finish him Ryan' and then they stepped on his stomach," you explained.

"(Y/N) I had no idea. I'm so sorry," she said.

"Yeah... well, it's not your fault," you said.

Then you heard a commotion coming over the phone as you heard other voices. It sounded like your brother's. "Honey. He's here now. Want me to ask him?"

"No! It's ok."

You heard your brother speak. "Who's that, mom?"

"Mom, don't tell him-."

"It's (Y/N)," she said before you could stop her.

You sighed. Then you heard him laugh and talk to someone else. "Is she with that old man? Tell her if he comes near her again, he'll have more than just bruises."

You gasped and so did your mom. "RYAN (Y/B/M/N) (Y/L/N). What did you do?!!"

He gulped. "Oops."

Your mouth hung open at your brother's confession.

Back at your old house, your dad clapped your brother on the back with a slight smirk on his face. Score one for them and he was in the clear.

Meanwhile, you hung up the phone and you couldn't resist the lump in your throat and the choked sob that came out.

You sighed heavily. "What did she say?" Harry asked.

On a shaky breath, you said, "He-he confessed."

"What do yeh mean?"

"I heard him when he came inside. He said," you swallowed. "'Is she with that old man again? Tell her if he comes near her again,' he'll have more than br-bruises.'"

Harry just laughed. "Old man."

"That's what you got out of that, Harry!?! He's saying he could break a bone or... worse," you swallowed.

"'M not scared of a 24-year-old boy who had his daddy pay him off, (Y/N). I can handle him," he said, moving the ice in his face.

You didn't answer him, just sat there, crying and thinking. When you didn't answer, Harry took the ice off his face and looked at you. "I can practically hear yeh thinking. What's up?"

You put a hand over your mouth and let out a cry. "Harry...."

"Baby?"

You moved over to sit next to him on the couch and grabbed his hand. You let out a big sigh. "How much do you love me?"

"With m' whole being. Yeh know that, love," he said.

"Then, I need you to- to do something for me."

"What's that?" He asked, rubbing his thumb over your hand.

"I think... well, maybe it might be good if...," you sighed. You let out a shaky breath. Tears were falling out of your eyes as you looked up at his bruised face.

Harry just stared back at you with a loving look, but also one that was in pain. "I-I can't let you go through something like this or worse again... I love you so much and it pains me that this is what it has come to. We were so happy in our bubble and I should have kept it this way, but my stupid family, your best friend decided to be dickwads and do this. I'm sorry H, but.... maybe we should..."

He shifted uncomfortably.

"It might be best," you said in a strained voice as you cried. "If we... took a break."

Harry held his head back and laughed. HE LAUGHED. "Is this because 'm ugly now?" Referencing his beat-up face.

You chuckled through your tears. He always knew how to cheer you up when you were at your lowest. That's what you loved about him. "You're not ugly."

Harry hummed. "We're not breaking up."

"Not breaking up.... Just a break... like Ross and Rachel. And when this all calms down, we can come back to each other," you practically whispered.

"No."

"What?"

"I said 'no.' We're not 'taking a break'," he told you, using air quotes for the last part.

You let out a shaky breath. "But we have to."

"Why? Because I got a bruised face? (Y/N), Love. M' love for yeh is greater than any pain or injury those assholes can give to me. If I lose yeh..." he sucked in a sharp breath. "God, I'd probably fall into a deep depression. M' life has changed fer the better since yeh became mine. And I don't ever want to lose that. Even for a little bit," he explained.

This time you couldn't hold back the sobs that were coming out of you. You were going through such mixed emotions. You tried to talk, but it just came out as a disgusting, spit-filled mess with tears staining your face.

"What?" Harry chuckled at you, wiping a tear off your face.

"You-you shouldn't have to choose between me and your best-best friend, so I'm making that decision," you sobbed.

"(Y/N)...(Y/N) look at me," he said sternly. You looked up at him. "I choose yeh. Every time. A thousand times over. I will choose yeh. Please don't do this."

A tear was starting to fall out of his non-bruised eye. "He's no friend o' mine if he can't cope with us being happy, with us being together. I love yeh so much." He wiped your tears.

You squeezed his hand. "Do you want to watch a movie?"

The side of his face that wasn't beat-up turned up in a smile. "Sure."

And he knew then that you were good.

~~~~~~~~~~~

About a week had gone by and you and Harry were still together, but you hadn't had sex since the whole blow-up, just not in the mood lately. You had some steamy makeout sessions, but then Harry's face hurt, and when it went further you almost felt... guilty. So it just didn't go any further.

His face was healing. He told you were the best nurse and since he didn't have to work, he stayed at your place, so you could baby him and take care of him. You didn't mind though. He even brought his cat and her supplies over.

You came home from work one day and gave Harry a big kiss when you walked into your bedroom. He was lying under your covers, coming out of a sleepy haze from your nap. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better now that yer here," he smiled.

You smiled back as you changed out of your work clothes and into your pajamas. "Listen, my boss put a job offer out. You have a job if you want it. You don't have to stay forever, but it's something for now if you want."

"Oh. Thank yeh baby. I... don't think I want to start anything new until m' face heals. But I will check it out," he said.

"Ok," you smiled. "That's fine."

You sat down on the bed and your whole body just tensed.

"Baby," Harry pulled you closer to him.

"Mmm. Sorry. I'm not really in the mood..."

"No no. Just wanna cuddle yeh. Yeh seem tense. That's all," he shrugged.

"Oh. Ok," you sat back, your back to his chest. You hummed as he pulled up your shirt and ran a hand over your tummy.

"Yer so beautiful," he whispered in your ear. "I don't tell yeh that enough."

"You tell me all the time," you chuckled and blushed.

"Mmm. But I should tell yeh more," he said. You had been stress eating lately and your stomach felt it was so bloated, but Harry thought you never looked sexier.

You had opted to wear an oversized shirt and panties. He lifted your shirt up and massaged your legs, eventually moving his hands to your hips. Out of all of your body parts, for some reason, your hips drove him the wildest... besides, well you know.

He growled a little in your ear as he snapped the thin string of your panties near your hips. "So sexy."

You bit your lip. "Stooop, H." Even though you didn't want him to.

"We don't have to have sex. I just want to admire m' girlfriend's gorgeous body," he said.

"But you're turning me on," you said.

"Aww," he kissed under your ear. "Yer pretty pussy getting wet?"

You nodded, swallowing thickly. "Sorry. I'll stop." He took his hands out of your panties and you whined. He just rubbed over your thighs.

You sighed. "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry," he said. "I get it."

"You do?"

"Yeah," he continued to massage your legs. "Sex would just make yeh feel... almost guilty. Like we'd be thinkin' of yer dad the entire time. Like we shouldn't be doing... it."

"YES!" you said, turning to look up at him. "Oh my God. You do get it. You get me."

"'Course I do, baby."

You sighed. "Will we ever get back to normal?" You played with his fingers. "Cause I miss you."

"'M right here, darling," he kissed your pulse point.

"I know. I mean... being intimate with you."

"Oh.... I miss it too. And I'll be here whenever yer ready," he let you know.

"Well.... Maybe we could do something." You were feeling horny even though your mind was trying to reject it.

"Like what?"

"Well, what you were doing before felt nice.. and... you know, I wouldn't stop you if you put your fingers in my panties," you said. "We can at least try it and see..."

"Yeah?"

"Mmhmm," your mouth dry. "I think I could use... a stress relief."

"Ok baby," he said, moving his hands back up to your hips. "If yeh want me to stop, yeh need to tell me."

You nodded.

Harry continued to slip his hands into your panties. "So sexy," he growled. He could feel how warm your core was already and it made him moan low.

His hands moved in front of your pussy and your breath picked up a bit. He took both hands and separated your lips, running a finger up and down your center slowly. You gasped. Your clit hadn't been touched since your birthday so it was super sensitive. "Ahh. God."

"This ok still? I can stop," he said.

"No. Don't stop," you said low.

Harry smiled and took his rough thumb and rubbed your clit slowly. You grabbed onto his arm. "Mmm. Mmm."

"My beautiful baby," he cooed in your ear. "Being so good."

Your stomach clenched at his words and you gasped. "Harry."

"I know baby. Yeh still ok?"

You nodded. "Gr-Great."

"Good... can I put a finger in yeh?"

You moaned. "Please."

"Maybe two?" He asked.

"Put all of them in me," you said breathlessly. "Just don't stop."

Harry chuckled and slipped two fingers into your slick hole. "Oh. Look at that. Went right in. So wet fer me, baby."

You bit your lip and turned your head towards Harry. "Fuck," you whispered.

"Feel good?"

Your mouth hung open and you nodded. "So good."

"Want yeh to cum on m' fingers, ok? Whenever yer ready," Harry pecked your lips.

You nodded again. "I need you to keep going."

"I'll do this all night if yeh need, m'kay? As long as yer feeling good."

You were panting as he sped up his fingers a little bit more. "More."

"Want another one?"

"Please."

Harry opened you up more and stuck a third finger in and you gasped. "So tight, baby."

You clenched around his fingers and Harry moaned. He curled his fingers up to reach your spongy spot and your thighs started to tremble.

"Mmm," you moaned.

"Need yeh to cum, love. Let all that stress out," he said in your ear.

His words sent you over the edge and you came on his fingers. You kept clenching until your orgasm subsided and you caught your breath. Harry moaned behind you. "Good girl," he said.

When you stopped clenching and shaking, Harry pulled his fingers out of you. He put them in his mouth and sucked, missing the taste of your sweet core.

"Shit," you panted.

"Was that ok?" He asked after he took his fingers out of his mouth.

"Thank you, H," you said. Harry kissed your ear. "I think I needed that."

"Me too... and no thoughts of yer dad, right?" Harry asked.

"No," you chuckled. "Definitely not."

"Good. Now, come cuddle," he said, pulling you close to him.

"I have to change my underwear now, but as soon as I do, I'm all yours," you said, getting up and going into your drawer to get a pair of boy shorts.

You climbed back onto the bed and pecked Harry's lips. "Want me to make you cum now?"

"No," Harry said, wrapping his arms around you. "I want to cuddle."

He put the blanket over you and pulled you close, rubbing your stomach gently. You stayed wrapped up and made small talk until you got hungry and had some dinner.

At dinner, Harry encouraged you to go out this weekend with your friends and have fun. "Dance, drink, get a little crazy. Yeh deserve it. Yeh work so hard."

You giggled. "I think I will. But I'm not inviting Jade. She's getting on my nerves."

"I think I just fell in love with yeh even more," Harry said, putting his fisted hands under his chin.

You giggled again. "Ok. I'll text them when we're done eating."

"Good girl," he said, kissing your forehead.

~~~~~~~

You curled your hair for the night out and then put on a long-sleeved maroon crop top, high-rise skinny jeans, and knee boots.

Things seemed to be getting back to normal between you and Harry. Although you still hadn't had sex yet, but you did make out and did a little hand action.

Harry was still staying over at your place, his face healing beautifully now. He leaned against your bedroom door in a t-shirt and sweats and smiled.

As you put your earrings in and applied some make-up, you caught his eyes in the mirror. "Hi," you blushed.

"Hey. Are yeh single? Because," he whistled low. "I wanna take yeh out," he joked.

You giggled. "Mmm. Sorry. I have a very protective, hot, strong, older boyfriend, who gets very jealous and territorial over me, but I'm flattered."

He walked behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. "I don't get jealous."

"No?" You raised an eyebrow. "Do you remember Kyle?"

"Kyle was a nimwit," he said, kissing your neck. You giggled. "Yeh look so hot. 'M tempted to just keep yeh here."

"See? Territorial," you joked.

He lightly swatted your butt. "Finish getting ready, brat."

His pet name set your tummy turning. You applied the rest of your make-up and grabbed your clutch. Harry offered to drive you because he knew you would be drinking. You told him you could take an Uber, but he insisted.

You got into his car and he drove you to the dance club, just 15 minutes away. "And call me when yer done. I'll be at m' place with Honey (his cat). So, I'll be on m' cell, ok?"

You nodded and pecked his lips. "Ok. Love you."

You were about to grab the door handle when he grabbed your arm. "I love yeh. Not 'love yeh'."

"I love you, H," you smiled.

"Good girl. I love yeh too. Now, have fun, be careful, and if any boy hits on yeh make sure to show them a picture of me," he said.

You chuckled. "Pretty sure any guy here couldn't make a girl cum, so we're good."

Harry chuckled. "Have fun, baby."

"Thanks!"

You got out of the car and met up with Carly and Whitney, who hugged you. You needed this night out with your friends. You were planning on getting a bit drunk, not passed out drunk, but just enough to take the edge off.

You entered the club and got some drinks. You made sure to hold onto them as you danced because no one can be trusted here.

After dancing for what felt like an hour, you all sat down and talked a bit and then drank a little more than you should have.

The night went on and you danced, ate, talked, drank, and mingled. Carly, in her drunken haze, came up with a crazy idea. "What if we got tattoos?"

"YES!" you said, slamming your drink down. "Let's go!"

You all got into an Uber and headed to the tattoo shop in town. Carly got a flower on her ankle, and Whitney got a cat on her shoulder. You didn't even hesitate to think about what you were going to get. You hopped up on the table and sucked in a breath as the needle poked your skin.

After the tattoos were done, you all got into an Uber again and it dropped you off at Harry's house. After your vision came back into focus, you put your key in his door and opened it. You stumbled in and hiccuped.

Harry came running out of his bedroom. "DARLING! I told yeh to call m' when yeh wanted to come home."

"Mmm. We took an Uber," you said, your eyes half closed.

"I know," he rubbed your back. "That's why I said to call m'."

"I'm fine," you hiccuped and gestured to your body. "See?"

He shook his head. "Did yeh have fun?"

"So much fun," you hummed. "We got wasteddd."

"Yeah? I would have never of known," Harry chuckled.

"Needed to forget my dad," you said, lifting your arm and gesturing, pretending to push him away. "Fuck him. I hate him."

"Yeh don't hate him," Harry said.

"Yes, I do. He hasn't talked to me in weeks and tried to tear us apart. I hate him and you should too," you booped his nose.

"Sure. Ok, baby. Let's get yeh to bed," Harry said, taking off your boots.

"Mmm. So we can have sex?" You asked.

"No. So, yeh can sleep this off."

You pouted. "Mmm. But I want to have sex."

Now, now she wants to have sex after weeks and she's stone cold drunk, Harry thought. But he knew better than to give in to you when you were like this.

"NO (Y/N)!" he scolded.

You got down on your knees, right in front of him, and looked up at him with doe eyes. "Please. Let me just... give you a little blowie."

Harry cupped your chin and rubbed his thumb over your lips, letting you suck on the digit when it entered your mouth. "Mmm."

"Come on. Let's go to bed," he said, popping his thumb out of your mouth.

You got up and followed him, as he took your hand and dragged you to his room. He placed you on the bed and went to his drawers to get a change of clothes for you. When he turned around, Harry saw you struggling to take your shirt off. He chuckled and helped you and then unclasped your bra.

"Arms up," he said, as he put a sleep shirt on you.

You groaned. "Mmm. I thought we were having sex."

"I already told yeh no (Y/N). Lay back."

Your eyes lit up as he took off your pants and underwear. But they fell once he put a pair of shorts on. "You're mean!" You pouted.

He ignored your attempt at trying to get him riled up and climbed into bed. "Come on. Nighty night," he pulled the covers up. "I love yeh."

"Mmm. I love you too," you said.

When he turned off the light, he turned back to you and pulled you in close. It was quiet for a minute before you whispered. "Harry."

He opened one of his eyes and grumbled, "What?"

"I'm still horny," you said.

"Go to sleep, (Y/N)!" Harry warned.

You pouted and kissed his jaw. "Fine."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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It sounded boring, but Molly revelled in the days when nothing extraordinary happened. When she could get out of bed in the morning, tick the things off her to do list that needed doing, have dinner, and get back into bed without anything taking her breath away, or taking her by surprise, or shaking her upside down. She didn’t take anything for granted, even a subpar cup of tea in the morning, and she found joy in every tiny thing she could, every perfect stitch, and even the ones that were a little off. Molly had always strived for perfection in every little detail of her life, but nothing was perfect, and perfection was overrated.

Steadily she was getting things back to normal, it was taking its time, and she was continually reminding herself that it was going to be a marathon not a sprint, but everyday that passed she felt a little more like herself. A changed version of herself, slightly altered for the hits she’d taken, but herself nonetheless. It felt good to be getting back into the swing of things. University was taking priority, the way it always had, and the way Molly knew it should. She hadn’t put in all the work and time to let a good grade slip out of her clutches at the last minute. And things with Harry were going slowly, but steadily, the way she wanted them to.

They were taking it the way they should have done originally, at a pace that truly suited them. It was only when they started to truly take things slowly, day by day, one step at a time, that they realised quite how much they’d rushed through. They weren’t living in each others pockets only messaging through the day as and when they could, calling in the evening after dinner for a chat, and seeing each other a couple of times a week. It felt right to take a step back and ease back into one another, picking themselves back up from the wreckage and trying to figure out how they’d fitted together, slowly. Molly knew she wanted to be with Harry, but she wanted to take her time with him this time, and if Harry wanted it any other way, he was at least doing a good job of pretending he didn’t and letting Molly go at her pace.

Outside looking in, it probably seemed like a strange time to want to take it slow, now they knew so much, now the walls had crashed down so hard and left them so bare and exposed. Inside, between them, it made perfect sense. So much had happened in the past months that it had left them struggling for air, drowning under it all, and though she knew she wanted to be with Harry, and wanted him back, she still had to wade through everything that had happened and make sense of it. It was a lot easier to do it with him, than without him, and apart from that, she wanted to do it with him, despite what certain people had said.

Jimmy hadn’t been favourable of Harry walking back through the door with Molly at first. He’d sat by her side, held her hand, tried to make her feel better and more like herself because of him. He’d been the one she’d collapsed into after she left Harry’s flat, a mess of tears and anger and hurt. And the person that had caused it just walked back through his front door. He’d fumed, shouted, and Molly had to calm him down, remind him it was her choice, and she’d chosen to give Harry a second chance. She could understand the reaction, and Harry said he did too, and Molly was sure Jimmy would come round.

She was still sure he would, but everytime Harry came round Jimmy rolled his eyes and disappeared out or to his bedroom. It wasn’t just her Harry had to prove himself to, but it was only her who seemed sure that he would.

“What you thinking about?” Harry asked, as they sat at another set of traffic lights. Molly was pulling at a thread hanging from her denim shorts. They were the same pair she’d been given when she got the job at Coyote. There was a small pink stain on the pocket from a drink that had spilled on her at some point, but she had no intention of getting another pair.

“Just Jim,” Molly admitted quietly, twisting to look at Harry, his own eyes fully focused on the traffic lights, waiting for them to change from red to green.

“Lol, if this is causing issues with you and you friends, maybe-”

“No, it’s only him, everyone else is fine, so he can learn to be fine,” Molly cut in. It was beginning to frustrate her how adamant Jimmy was being with his distaste for Harry, he wasn’t even being civil and that wasn’t like Jimmy. Molly could understand it wasn’t easy to watch your friend let someone who had hurt them so much back in, she could bet she’d find it hard if it was the other way round. But Molly knew what she wanted, and knew what was best for her own happiness, and Jimmy had to realise that. “I want to be with you, it’s got nothing to do with him,” Molly told Harry as they pulled away from the lights.

“Maybe I should try talking to him, I don’t know, I like him, I’d like him to like me,” Harry sighed heavily with that. The repercussions of him lying were still reverberating around him. Shane was still being frosty, though he was talking to Harry again so that was something. But Harry’s regret wasn’t thawing quite so easily.

“You can try,” Molly shrugged. “I’d like it if you could get on again,” Molly admitted with half a smile. “He will come round, he’ll see it was all just a stupid mistake and you’re not a bad person,” Molly assured, and she believed it. For all Harry had done, she knew none of it came from a place of malice. That didn’t make it ok, but at least it meant she could believe Harry when he said he was sorry.

Harry turned down the alleyway beside Coyote and Molly looked out of her window at it. In a weird way she’d missed the place. It had been a while since her last shift, and she could feel another little bit of her normal slotting into place.

“So you’ll text me when you’re leaving and I’ll see you at mine yeah?” Harry asked again, for about the fifth time. Molly could bet he was waiting for her to give in and say he could pick her up after her shift, but she wasn’t going to. Until Harry she’d walked home from every shift she’d ever done, it was part of her normal and she liked it. The calm after the storm. The start of winding down after work. They’d compromised, he dropped her off, and he let her walk home. She’d text to say she was leaving, and that was it. He’d see her when she got to his for dinner and a movie. Molly could tell Harry wasn’t sure, it made him anxious, and she didn’t hold that against him, but she couldn’t keep giving into him and all the little habits he’d learned that kept him living in that dark place. If she let him pick her up, it fed the part of his mind that worried something would happen if he didn’t.

“Yep,” Molly smiled, trying to keep it light. “Have a nice evening,” She grinned, leaning over the centre of the car and kissing his lips. His hand quickly moved to hold her face though, deepening the kiss just a little.

“Be careful,” Harry warned quietly, and Molly just nodded, looking into his worried eyes.

“I’ll be fine,” Molly pointed out, still grinning wildly. “Always am,” She added, and even Harry’s lips twitched a little at that, before she slid out of the car and headed for the door, not hearing how Harry mumbled that, that was what worried him.

When Molly had called Liam to tell her she’d need to cancel her next few shifts, she’d explained why, not able to keep it back. It had been fresh. The morning after Clive had died, the wound still very much raw and untreated, so it spilled out of her quite easily, nothing in place to stem the flow of grief at that point. Liam had understood, told her to take as long as she needed, and she’d taken two weeks. Probably just one would have been enough, but she decided to take a week to focus on getting back into uni work, catch up on anything she’d missed and make sure she was nothing but prepared for the final month of her second year.

Heading back into the bar though, it felt good to be back, the sound of her heels clipping on the plastic floor, the music from the jukebox blaring, and the lights already dimmed despite the fact it was only four thirty. It was a Saturday, the one day a week the bar opened at lunchtime, and stayed open until gone midnight. Liam had offered Molly the shift affectionately known as the friendly one. Four thirty through til nine. The quiet hours. People shuffled out to prepare for the evening around four, and the busy period didn’t really kick in until gone nine on a Saturday. It was the perfect shift to ease her back into Coyote after two weeks away.

There were a few tables being used, a bunch of people occupying a booth, but other than that no one. Molly would occupy her time cleaning up, making sure as many glasses as possible were clean and the fridges were well stocked prior to people beginning to flood back in. It wasn’t the most fun shift in the world, and it tended to drag, but Molly was just glad to be back. It was the final thing in her repertoire.

“Excuse me love.” Molly glanced over her shoulder, trying to ignore the shiver up her back at the over friendly pet name. No one had called her that in a long time, and she wished no one would. At least people she didn’t know. Molly just smiled at the man on the other side of the bar, jet black hair slicked back and piercing blue eyes that even under the dim lights seemed almost bleached of colour. One side of his mouth lifted, showing off a few bright white sparkling teeth as Molly wiped her hands on her shorts, damp from the condensation of the cold bottles she’d been stacking into the fridge.

“What can I get you?” Molly asked, when the man said nothing. She hadn’t noticed him when she’d walked through to the bar from the back, and she was sure she would have done considering how empty it was. A quick glance around the room confirmed she remembered seeing everyone else dotted around the place when she’d arrived.

“What would you suggest?” The man asked, and it took Molly a little by surprise. There was something about the way he looked at Molly that made her skin feel like it was crawling, like little spiders were creeping up her spine and over her arms, making the hair there stand on end. It was like he was looking right through her, or at least right through her clothes. She never really felt exposed, even in the short, shorts and tied up top she wore on a Saturday, but under his eyes she felt like everything was on show.

“Erm,” Molly started, stumbling a little. She swallowed on nothing, twisting her head to look at the neatly stocked fridge. “You drink beer?” She asked, not looking back at him, only because she swore she felt his eyes stuck to the back of her, piercing into her neck.

“Am I making you nervous?” He asked, under his breath, as if there was anyone to overhear.

“I’m sorry?” Molly sneered, looking back then. The man just chuckled, darkly, threateningly. If the bar wasn’t between them, Molly would have been frightened, as it were, she tried to carry on convincing herself she was in control. The bar was her ground and she held it.

“That would be a yes then, or,” He stopped then, looked at Molly, up and down, slowly, smirking evilly once he had her eyes again. “Do I scare you?”

“No, you don’t, now what can I get you?” Molly asked with a sigh. “A one way ticket to the door is free of charge? Or a beer is three fifty,” Molly told him and she watched his nostrils flare, fists curling until his knuckles turned white. “You need to relax sir,” Molly advised strongly, trying to ignore the hammering of her heart inside her ribs.

“Just a beer,” The man told her, and Molly nodded, turning to the fridge. “I want your name,” Molly heard him say.

“You aren’t getting it,” Molly called back as she pulled the bottle top off with the opener on the side. “Three fifty,” Molly told him, extending one hand towards him once the bottle was on the side, the other resting on her hip. Molly watched as he reached into his pocket for money, waiting patiently and tilting her head a little. Difficult customers were regular, and she was telling herself that was all he was, just a difficult customer that had probably had one too many somewhere else and didn’t know how to bite his tongue. She felt the way she did, not because of him, or the way he looked at her, or the sandpapery sound of his voice, of the stench of cigarettes and cannabis on him, or just the general vibe he was giving off, but because she’d forgotten the way some people sometimes spoke to bar staff when beer had given them a confidence they didn’t know how to handle.

The man pulled his hand out of his pocket, and Molly stretched hers forward a little for him. Very quickly she wished she hadn’t though, as he slapped a note into her hand so hard her knuckles rapped against the wood of the bar, before she had a second to react his hand was around her wrist and pulling her fiercely towards him. Her hip hit one of the beer trays, and her ribs jammed into the bar, almost knocking the wind out of her. He leered across the bar at her, Molly wanted to look away, look for Liam who she hoped was around somewhere. Kacey was outback, doing a stock take, tidying the staff room, keeping herself busy while Molly manned the bar, until the six o clock shift clocked in and Kacey could leave. Molly was alone, and she really felt it as his icy blue eyes stared into hers.

“Don’t need your name love, that pretty red hair is name tag enough, talk to me like that again and I’ll rip it from your head,” He sneered, Molly’s nostrils twitched and she was biting her jaw tight, teeth crunching into one another as she fought the need to cry.

“I ca-”

“Get me kicked out, that’s fine, go ahead, I think you’d rather know exactly where I am though.” His eyes narrowed with that, and slowly his mouth cracked into a smile, before he was laughing. “I’m joking love don’t look so worried,” He chuckled, letting go of her hand, but Molly felt the way her ribs were already bruising and the way her knuckles stung. “Keep the change, spend it on yourself, buy something pretty to go with that pretty hair, or maybe just a sense of humour.” Molly didn’t say anything, just took the note and put all ten pounds of it in the til, not taking anything out for herself before she slipped out the back door, and called for Kacey to take the bar for a minute, practically skipping to the toilet, less anyone see the amount of colour that had drained from her cheeks.

There was no windows in the bathroom, and Molly was breathing heavily against the feeling of being trapped. Quickly Molly locked herself in one of the cubicles as nausea rose up inside her. Her stomach hurt as it tensed and she emptied her stomach of everything she’d ingested that day, doubled over the toilet, hands gripping the seat. Tears streamed down her face, but only from how much she was retching on nothing, her stomach empty, but the disgust inside her still drowning everything else out. Finally the vomiting stopped, and she caught her breath, noticing the red of her knuckles and the discolouration of her wrist. Molly swallowed back and slowly stood straight, wiping her mouth with her other hand, still staring at the skin that was beginning to bruise. That couldn’t be hidden. Molly glanced down to her ribs, the way her t-shirt was tied made it easy to see and she let out a long and shaky breath she didn’t realise she’d been holding. Quickly she untied it, tucked it into her shorts and covered the redness underneath. After a quick check in the bathroom mirror, Molly headed back out to the bar head high, and a smile on her face, trying to ignore the pang in her wrist or the ache in her stomach.

Nothing was going to spoil her normality. Later she’d tell Liam about it, get him to check the CCTV, make sure the guys ID and photo was kept on file so he wasn't allowed back in. In that moment, she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of being politely asked to leave. Instead she’d give him the embarrassment and shame when he turned up next, hopefully with a clutch of friends who would all hear exactly why he wasn’t allowed in when he would undoubtedly ask and whoever was working the door would remind him how he’d grabbed one of the barmaids across the bar and was lucky not to be, being done for assault.

Molly headed back out to the bar, and continued through her shift as if nothing had happened. It was hard though, when her wrist twinged everytime she picked something up, and everytime she bent she felt like the air was being punched out of her all over again. It hadn’t felt that bad at first, but the more time that passed the more she ached. The man sat at the end of the bar, and didn’t move all night, eyes fixed on Molly, trying to keep herself busy at the opposite end of the bar from him.

Molly did everything to ignore him, and the busier the bar got, the easier it was. However, he had been right about one thing. She liked knowing where he was. There was a certain reassurance in looking down the bar and seeing him still sat there, away from her. At least whilst he was there, he wasn’t coming near her. Everytime she looked, he caught her eye and smirked tauntingly. Molly looked away without reacting at all. She wanted to see the back of him, watch him leave the bar. She’d assumed he was waiting for friends, but the more time that passed, the more evident it became that, that wasn’t the case, and the more Molly got the feeling that whoever he was, he was there specifically for her.

It wasn’t busy enough to keep Molly’s mind off the strange man at the end of the bar, however her shift did seem to pass quickly, at least for the friendly shift, one that normally dragged through and ended just as things were getting good. Molly had about fifteen minutes left when out of the corner of her eye she saw him get to his feet, just as she was pouring a gin and tonic. She couldn’t help herself, she watched him leave the bar, put his wallet and phone in his pocket and walk away. Her heart was thumping in her chest, and her eyes followed him through the bar and to the door. She watched the door close behind him and it was only then she noticed the tears in her eyes and the shake in her hand that was holding onto a nearly empty bottle of gin. She swallowed the lump in her throat, blinked back the tears quickly, and got on with her job, something she was good at, and tried to forget about how piercing and threatening his icy blue eyes had been from across the bar.

When it came to the end of her shift, for the first time since she’d had the job, Molly was fully glad it was over, she wanted out of there. Not just because she was hungry, or her legs were tired, or eyes needed to shut, but because she wanted to wash it all off her skin. Her wrist was red, starting to purple just a little, but her knuckles were still just flaming red. Under her shirt she could feel her ribs were doing the same, but she was scared to look. Molly just pulled her hoodie on over her t-shirt and swapped her boots out for her tatty black vans and her shorts for baggy jeans. There was no way Harry would miss the marks, he never missed any changes about her, physical or otherwise. She knew she had to tell him the truth, but that was already making her throat tighten, the thought of explaining to anyone else after she’d told Liam, how a stranger had grabbed her in her workplace and made her feel as weak and useless as he had, made her feel sick and scared in a way that for some reason she didn’t want to admit to.

The thought of telling Harry though was even worse, but then the idea of trying to keep it from him was even worse than that. She didn’t want to keep anything from him, the same way she didn’t want him keeping things from her. As she stood at the small table she took her break at, putting her normal jewellery back on, Molly began to think about how she was going to explain what had happened to Harry, how she was going to assure him it was ok, it was being dealt with.

Because it was, Liam already had one of the doormen searching for the guys ID to make a note not to let him back in. Liam had asked if she wanted to report it, she didn’t. Liam had looked at her like that wasn’t the right answer, Harry would undoubtedly do the same, but it was up to her, and she didn’t want to. The thought of going through it again was terrifying, being asked detailed questions about it that made her question herself, innocent until proven guilty, wondering why she felt like the guilty one, why she felt she had to say sorry when she was explaining it to Liam. That was enough, let alone doing the same with someone she didn’t know, and who didn’t know her from anyone else making accusations about a stranger in a bar. As if that was good enough reason not to take it seriously.

Molly took her phone from her bag, 2 messages both from Harry. She smiled to herself, sometimes he just couldn’t help himself despite their agreements and compromises. And even though inside she felt grimey and disgusting, he still made her smile simply by his name being on her phone. That told her all she really needed to know.

Think things are sorted with Jimmy as much as I can for now, he listened to me at least and he seemed more understanding. He just wants you to be happy so think we’ve found some common ground again x

Sorry I’ve made such a mess of things, I’m going to make all this right, see you later love x

Molly found herself just staring at his words. It made her uneasy that she could still read guilt between every line. It was hard to move past it when he was still so wrapped up in saying sorry and making things better. It was hard to tell him not to though, it didn’t make any odds, he still did it, no matter how many times Molly asked him to stop. It did make her happy that something had been sorted with Jimmy, something was better than nothing, even if it was just the smallest piece of common ground. It was better than having Jimmy unable to be in the same room as Harry. She could hear all the things Jimmy would have fired at Harry, how it wasn’t a mistake, mistakes were accidents and lying was purposeful, how he didn’t like how easily Molly had taken him back no matter how much Molly assured that Harry made her happy, and that was all that mattered. All Jimmy saw was the nearly broken girl that he’d held tight until she finally fell asleep and stopped thinking about all the signposts she’d walked straight past without a second glance.

There was no way Molly could even guess what Harry might have said to begin to change Jimmy’s mind, but if it had worked enough to at least get him to listen it was a start Molly was happy to accept.

That’s good, I’m just leaving work now, I’ll see you in a sec x

Molly shoved her phone back in her pocket, before heading out of the door and trotting down the steps into the alleyway. There air was thick, hot and sticky, but still Molly was glad for her hoodie, folding her arms over herself and heading towards the road. The sun hadn’t yet set, it was nearly there, the navy night melting into bright tangerine, as the sun lingered on the horizon.

It was the footsteps Molly noticed first. Behind her and heavy, not trying to hide themselves. It set her on an edge straight away, because she knew she hadn’t seen anyone lingering as she left through the side door. Molly thought about just moving faster towards the road, she was nearly there already, but before her legs could actually do anything, instinct told her to look over her shoulder. And perhaps that was her mistake, because her feet seemed to get clumsy without her eyes looking where she was going, and she found herself tripping on something, but before she could fall, someone had her by the shoulders pushing into her until her back crashed against the wall, the clothes in her backpack luckily acting as a cushion. It all happened so fast and it took Molly longer than she’d have liked to workout who was leering over her, but the piercing blue eyes, the colour of ice more than the sky or the sea, were quickly recognisable. She doubted she’d ever have forgotten them anyway, but as they seemed to hold her against the wall as tight as his arms, she knew she never would.

“You took your sweet time didn’t you love,” He sneered, his face far too close to hers for Molly’s liking. She twisted her neck to look away and closed her eyes against him, she could feel herself shaking, her breath vibrating in and out sharply through her nose as she pinched her lips together to keep from whimpering. He just grabbed her jaw though and pulled her face back to him. She wanted to squeeze her eyes shut tight, but she opened them instead and her vision was blurred by the tears welling along her lash line. “Kept me waiting,” He snarled and Molly just swallowed on nothing staring back at him. She swore she could still feel the burn of his hand on her arm, and she didn’t want his hands anywhere else, let alone any other part of him, but she knew what was coming, she didn’t need to ask what he wanted with her. Molly just looked to the sky and waited to feel his fingers working at her jeans. The part of her that wanted to fight him away died, she’d never win, and she just wanted it over, she just wanted it to end.

There was a taste of blood as she bit her mouth tighter together, refusing to cry, refusing to give him that at least. Her head quickly dropped though when she felt something slam into her thigh, her muscle hitting the bone underneath, she cussed as it tore and looked down to watch his knee push further into her already dead leg. It ached like nothing she’d ever known and she winced, a bitten back squeal passing through her tight lips as her leg squeezed into the wall under the pressure of his knee. It left one of his hands free though. With his leg in hers, he only needed one hand to hold one of her hips to keep her in place, the other one was free to roam, and it roamed to the space where she’d cut the neck of her hoodie and the skin there was exposed. His fingers tickled over it, tracing patterns that made her prickle. Her throat was tight and dry and she tried to swallow down but it was a struggle.

“Such a pretty thing,” He whispered, his breath, stinking of beer and smoke, washing over Molly’s face. Molly’s jaw quaked, weakening her. She tried to fight back then, to push away but it only resulted in him pushing harder into her, unaffected by her attempts, almost acting as if it hadn’t even happened, just continuing with what he was doing. For a second his fingers trailed down her jumper and Molly held her breath tight against them. “What on earth does a thing like you, see in a waste of space like Harry Styles?” Molly’s snapped then, her eyes shooting towards him, nostrils flaring as she shook under his constraints. “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” He hushed through a threatening chuckle. “You’re not going anywhere love, not yet, your face is still far too pretty, he won’t know I’ve touched you yet.” Molly let out her breath then, and it came out as a sob, she tried to lift her hands to his chest but he just pushed them away. It didn’t stop her, she kept trying, to scratch at his face, claw out his eyes, push him and knock the wind out of him. She couldn’t though, he was vastly stronger than her and he overpowered her like she was a baby bird with a broken wing.

“Know who I am yet?” Molly didn’t answer, just tried to avoid his eyes. “Gave him that lovely scar,” He added, pushing his leg into her thigh as if telling her exactly what scar it was that he’d given Harry. Molly felt herself stiffen as she stared at his shoulder, her jaw tight, trying to blank his voice out but it was hard when he let his mouth linger so close to ear, whispering quietly into it. “Don’t worry baby, I’m not going to cut you, that would be too obvious,” He told her and Molly cried then, pushing against him again, but still he just held her tight, never weakening. Molly felt his fingers rise up from her collarbones to her neck, tickling the skin and moving slowly around it until his palm was pressed against her throat. Molly whimpered as his fingers tightened just a little so she could feel the pressure of him, but he wasn’t choking her. “You tell Harry it was Aaron who did this to you, every bruise, every mark,” He started slowly, fingers running up the side of her neck to lift her head so she was forced to look in his eyes as he spoke. Molly shook her head. “Oh yes, you tell him, and remind him he owes me a fight, and I will kill him either way, but he’d rather die in the ring than what I’ve got planned for him trust me.” Molly felt herself shiver with that, and her nostrils flared.

“He’ll never fight you,” Molly sneered, eyes raking over his face like he was nothing, like he didn’t have her by the throat against a wall.

“He will, cause otherwise I’ll kill him, and if that’s not enough, and if this isn’t enough, you can remind him he’s a father now, and you’re not the only thing of his I can get to,” He smiled, and Molly kissed her teeth.

“You dare-”

“Don’t test me,” He seethed, his fingers tightening for a second, nails digging into her skin harshly. “So you’ll tell him won’t you?” He asked, but Molly said nothing, just hold herself tight. She didn’t know what she thought she was doing, or what game she was playing but she’d surely never win. “Won’t you?” He asked again, fingers tightening once more, waiting for Molly to agree, which she did eventually, with a small nod. “Good girl” He smiled. “Now you can tell me, what you’re doing with a worthless piece of shit like-” Molly lifted her free leg suddenly, sharply, into his crotch, it cut him short and it almost took Molly by surprise how much of a reflex it seemed to be. She hadn’t thought about it at all, she just did it, and now Aaron was crouched to the floor holding himself as pain seared through him. Molly didn’t think as she stepped aside and ran, and ran, and just kept running. Her head was blank apart from the need to just keep moving. There were no thoughts, nothing sensible, no other plan coming to her apart from to just keep running hard and fast far away from that alleyway, and from him.

For all Molly knew he was following, two steps behind, but she didn’t glance to look. That had been her mistake before, and she wouldn’t do it again. If she hadn’t looked before she might have gotten out of that alleyway, but then what. Would he always be waiting for her until he’d said what he had to say? Waiting for Harry? Or would he have gotten to Lola? No, Molly decided, it was a good thing it was her that night. It was better it was her that night because it was over and done with, and it meant Harry wasn’t bleeding out somewhere, and it meant Lola hadn’t been touched.

Molly’s lungs were burning as she eventually slowed, her legs unable to carry her at the same speed for so long. She didn’t need to look behind her, she swore she could feel him lingering, though that could have just been the memory of the way he leered over her, and she’d felt his breath on her and his hands holding her. Even so she kept her eyes on Harry’s building, she could see it now. It was part of the reason they’d agreed she’d go back to his rather than him meeting her at her place, it was closer. Not so far for her to walk. Earlier she’d nearly argued  it, he’d have to let her walk alone to her place at some point, but she’d decided to let him have that at least for now, and she was glad she had. She’d have never made it back to hers so quickly.

Her mind was still reeling, only thinking about getting away from Aaron, only thinking about getting behind a locked door. Adrenaline was still feeding her and she couldn’t feel any of her injuries, not a single one. She felt normal physically, but mentally it was a mess. All her head was doing was telling her to keep moving, she was nearly there, just keep going. Her legs carried her but she didn’t feel like she was attached to them. In fact she felt completely detached from everything, like she was hovering over her body looking down at herself as she rounded into the parking lot, and everything began to sink in.

It was only as she pulled the heavy front door open that she glance over her shoulder and caught him standing there, by the entrance of the car park, staring after her, smirking, far too close to her for Molly’s liking. It felt like he was just letting her know he’d always be there, he wasn’t going anywhere, always lingering, never too far away and always with a threat. Molly rushed inside pulling the door closed quickly as if that made any difference, before racing up the steps to Harry’s door. She knocked at it frantically, simultaneously kicking at the mat for the spare key. It just moved through and she heard the key move with it. Down stairs Molly heard the door open slowly.

“Shit,” She hissed, bending to the mat, still knocking on the door. Tears began to drip from her eyes as she began to panic all the things that had happened were about to get ten times worse. Her hand was beginning to hurt from the knocking, and her fingers trying to pick the key up from the floor were clumsy and useless. She heard feet taking the stairs, heavy, and she managed to convince herself they sounded just like Aaron’s had in the alleyway. She stood with the key, but continued to knock as she fought to get the key in the lock. “Fuck,” She blubbed as it dropped from her fingers back to the floor and Molly quickly followed it, just as the door opened.

“What the fu-” Harry began but quickly cut himself off as Molly rose quickly to her feet and pushed him into the flat closing the door behind them.

“Lock it,” She told him, she saw him begin to ask what was going on, but then his eyes saw her neck, and very suddenly she felt the bruising and the pinches on her skin, raw and stinging. “Lock the door Harry,” She sobbed.

“Who did this?” Harry seethed through clenched teeth.

“Harry please lock the-”

“WHO DID THIS?” He bellowed, and Molly just whimpered. Harry’s eyes fluttered shut for a second, as he composed himself. He wasn’t angry at Molly, but she was frantic with panic and he needed an answer “Please tell me who did this baby,” Harry begged still holding the door handle firm, holding the door closed, but Molly knew it wasn’t enough, and if Aaron was the one coming up the stairs he’d be nearly there by now.

“Please don’t go,” She sobbed.

“I’m not, I’m not going anywhere Lolly, tell me who did this to you please?” Molly swallowed then and looked at Harry through flooded eyes.

“Aaron,” She whispered, and watched it seep into Harry. His nostrils flared, and he sucked his cheeks in tight, wrenching the door handle, seeing red and moving to leave.“Don’t you dare,” Molly shouted after him. “Don’t you dare leave me alone like this,” She added quickly and Harry froze. “What’s more important to you?” Molly challenged, “Hurting him, or being with me?” Harry instantly softened, Molly saw it, the way his shoulders lowered and his head dropped, curls falling around him. He bent to the floor, grabbing the key from outside, straightened the mat, closed the door, double locked it, put the key on the side and turned for Molly.

“I’m so sorry,” He whispered, stepping close to her and pulling her into him. He’d never held her tighter. It wasn’t squeezing or painful, but his hands were strong where they landed, as if he was holding her together as much as he was holding her to him, and maybe he was. One hand moved to her head, holding it against his chest where Molly rested, and she felt safe, secure, in his arms. His head lowered onto hers, and his lips moved against her hair as he spoke, tickling her scalp. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t keep you safe, I’m so sorry baby, I’m so sorry.” Harry just continued to repeat over and over, holding her tighter and tighter. She winced as his arm squeezed against her ribs, and he obviously felt her. “Did I hurt you?” He asked unwinding from around her quickly and stepping back to look at her face, but he didn’t give Molly a second to actually answer.  “I’m sorry, fuck I’m sorry,” Harry breathed, hands moving to his hair, scraping through it. Molly just shook her head and rolled her lips together, sniffing as she stared up at Harry, not entirely sure what to say or do. “Let me see?” Harry asked, again Molly didn’t answer, but she didn’t stop him as his fingers moved to her hoodie, lifting it over her head, eyes always on her even as he began reaching for the hem of her t-shirt. Neither said anything, but Molly could tell Harry was waiting for her, so she just nodded once and Harry began to lift her shirt.

Molly closed her eyes. She hadn’t seen what was underneath, but she could bet it was ugly. It meant she didn’t see the way Harry held his breath at the sight of the purpleing mass on her skin, or the way he had to blink away tears, or the way his fist curled at his side. She didn’t see the way he wished he’d erased every compromise he’d made, how he wished he’d been unreasonable, and had told her he’d be there when she finished. She didn’t know how he wished he hadn’t ignored the feeling inside him that he should drive to Coyote when she text to say she was leaving.

“Come here,” Harry offered, taking Molly’s hand and turning them, leading Molly to the bathroom. Molly was quiet. Now she felt a little shell shocked, a little emotionally numb as everything sunk in. Physically she could feel each wound, everywhere he’d touched her, even the spit that had dried on the side of her face as he’d hissed words at her. Her ribs hurt when she breathed, her leg was still tingling, her throat felt sore and her neck felt like it had been wrenched at, her hand was sore and her wrist ached. But somehow all she wanted was for Harry to put his arms back around her, where she felt safe. “What did he do Lol?” Harry asked her calmly. Molly just stared at him, everything about her feeling smaller, swallowed by what had happened and less because of it. “It’s ok, nothing, no one, is ever going to hurt you again, no one’s going to touch you, I swear it,” Harry vowed taking her hands gently. He’d already noticed her red knuckles, but he didn’t guess that was something Aaron had done, assuming it was from an attempt to fight back instead. “Can you tell me what he did please?” Harry asked, still soft and gentle, unreasonably calm as he spoke.

“Don’t be angry,” Molly sort of asked, slipping her hands out of Harry’s. “Please.”

“Molly, you have nothing to be scared of, I’m not angry, I just need to know, that’s all, if you can, I need you tell me what happened.” Molly nodded then, and swallowed.

“He came into the bar, I didn’t know it was him,” Molly started, and lifted her hand as she explained what had happened there. She motioned to her ribs and Harry seemed to just be taking it all in, nodding as she spoke, not really reacting. “Outside, he was in the alley, I don’t know, I can’t remember, but he had me against a wall and he was holding me with his hands first, then my leg,” Molly brushed her fingers over her thigh. Even that was enough though, the skin tender underneath.

“Can I see?” Harry asked tenderly. Molly’s eyes were on her thigh, fingers lingering over her jeans where the bruising lay underneath. She nodded, and moved her fingers to the button of her jeans. Harry took a step back then, just a small one, putting a little distance between them, as Molly pulled the zipper of her jeans down. Molly didn’t look up as she pushed her jeans over her hips, but she found herself sniffing as tears began to fill her eyes again. She didn’t want to see what was underneath, she could feel it just fine. The way the flesh was moulding and festering, the way the muscle was quaking from the pressure he’d exerted with his knee and the way blood was rushing to the surface. So Molly closed her eyes as she pushed her jeans down her legs, bending at the hips, flinching as the fabric scraped over her thigh. Eventually she stood again, and stared at Harry as she kicked her jeans away and he stared at her leg. She watched his nostrils flare and the way his jaw moved slowly, before he sighed.

“Molly,” He whispered, hand moving to his face, leaning his mouth into it. Molly watched him quake, a shudder of breath leaking out of his nose as he stared at her thigh. Molly was chewing her cheeks, watching him think, she knew he was thinking, probably kicking himself for something that wasn’t his fault. Eventually he let his hand dropped and looked up to her face again. “And I take it he grabbed your throat?” Harry asked, and Molly nodded.

“Is it obvious?” She asked, but Harry just swallowed, and that was answer enough. She moved her hand to her neck tears in her eyes as lace like fingers made her sore skin tingle. Harry moved closer and took her hand away gently, hooking one of her fingers with his, and leaving it like that as he moved his face closer to her neck to inspect it.

“This is disgusting, I’m gonna fucking kill him,” Harry seethed.

“You said you wouldn’t get angry,” Molly reminded him quietly, sinking back.

“It’s kinda hard when he’s left his nail marks in your neck Lol,” Harry told her. Molly just took a deep breath, lifting her fingers to her skin again, feeling for said marks. “Let me clean this, there’s a little…” Harry trailed off to move for the sink.

“There’s blood!?” Molly shrieked forgetting about the pain in her neck as she twisted it to look at Harry, but quickly remembering as it seared through and she winced, holding her neck and moving it back to centre.

“A little, yes,” Harry told her, moving back with a damp flannel. Steadily he wiped at her neck, gently dabbing the skin to loosen the drops of blood that had leaked from where Aaron had pinched at her throat.

“You know why don’t you?” Molly asked, as Harry worked. He nodded, not saying a word. “You’re going to have to fight aren’t you?” Harry shook his head at that.

“No, I made you a promise,” Harry reminded her, but Molly just rolled her lips together, pinching them between her teeth gently. “You don’t need to worry, he’s not gonna hurt you again, no one is ever going to hurt you again,” Harry promised her. “Whatever he said to you, whatever threats he made-”

“He said he’d kill you,” Molly interrupted, “And he said you should remember your a father, and I’m not the only thing of yours he can get to,” Molly added, and Harry froze. Slowly she turned to look at him watching as it registered over his face.

“I need you to report this Lolly,” Harry told her carefully but almost without room for argument. Molly shook her head, softly at first, barely a movement at all, but it quickly got more frantic.

“No,” Molly told him, stepping back out of his way, back towards the wall.

“Whoa Lol,” Harry tried to hush her, reaching out for her, but she was too busy shaking her head, getting herself worked up, frantically running through the possibilities of what could happen.

“I don’t want to, please don’t make me, please Harry.” She was beginning to cry, tears falling from her eyes, hands shaking as she held her chest, as if her holding it meant no one else could get close to her again. Her back hit the wall and Harry watched her jump, looking over her shoulder for something that wasn’t there. She looked back to Harry, fear drowning her out, hollowing her out.

“Molly, it’s ok, you don’t have to, I’m not going to make you do anything, ever,” Harry told her, carefully stepping closer, extending his hand and slowly taking her arm, easing her towards him. “You don’t need to be scared baby, it’s ok,” Harry told her softly, it wasn’t a whisper, his voice was just gentle. “I’m going to make it ok,” He added, his arms wrapping around her holding her close again, kissing her head.

“Will you have to fight?” Molly asked again.

“I don’t know,” Harry admitted. They didn’t say anything for a while, just stood there, until Molly started to settle, until her breathing evened, and her fingers only twitched every now and again rather than shook constantly, and her eyes had mostly dried. “Sit down,” Harry encouraged, moving back and edging Molly towards the closed toilet seat. Molly sat down and Harry looked over her, “I’ve got some cream for those,” He told her motioning towards her bruises with his head, and moving for the cabinet under the sink, opening it and rifling around.

“If you have to Harry I get it, it’s ok, if that’s what it takes to get rid of him, it’s ok,” Molly sighed, and Harry glanced over to her from the cabinet, narrowing his eyes. “I’m serious, just don’t let him win, and don’t let him kill you,” Molly told him.

“I won’t,” Harry told her, crawling back over to her, a small tube of cream in his hands. It wasn’t confirmation of anything, or what would happen, and in an hours time Molly would probably take back her words, but Harry wouldn’t still be adamant Aaron would never win, and he’d never let him kill him.

Harry sat on his feet, squeezing some of the cream out onto the pads of his fingers. With a delicate touch he moved her t-shirt aside and began rubbing the cream into her ribs. Molly hissed as he touched the sensitive skin, and Harry froze for a second looking up to her. He could tell she was biting her teeth together, nostrils spread wide, eyes narrowed, but he continued. It stung, but she let him carry on. Once her ribs were dealt with he moved to her wrist, and hand, and then lastly her thigh. His hair fell over his face as he moved three fingers around in a circle over the skin, she looked at it the for the first time. The inflicted area was huge, a great mass of discoloured skin that was shining under the cream. Molly moved her eyes to Harry, preferring to look at him than what had been done to her. She tucked his hair back behind his ears, and she saw a small smile pulling at his lips. She felt herself doing the same, her lips twitching as he twisted his face to kiss her palm.

“There,” He finished, mumbling into her hand before screwing the lid back onto the tube. Molly just continued to stare at him. Harry groaned a little as he moved, but Molly watched as he got onto his knees, twisting at the gold signet ring he always wore. Molly narrowed her eyes, and they were still narrowed when Harry looked up at her from his hand, holding the ring between his thumb and two fingers.

“Harry, what the fuck are you doing?” Molly asked, panic in her voice, though an entirely different panic to what had washed through her earlier. Harry just chuckled and shook his head.

“Don’t freak out,” He smiled. “Not that, though I expect, no, I know, one day it will be that, but not today,” He grinned. “I’m just promising you, with everything that I am, that I am yours, and I will never lie to you, or hide anything from you ever again, I want to be yours, completely, I’m not ever going to take you for granted and I’m never going to let anything happen to you, or anyone hurt you again,” Harry vowed, his hands falling to her knees as he scooted a little closer, staring up at her from where he knelt. “You’re everything, you, and Lola, are all that matter to me, I’m never going to let anything or anyone get in the way of me showing you that,” He told her. Molly could feel a lump in her throat forming, eyes stinging as Harry spoke. “I need you, and I’m ready to commit one hundred percent of myself to you, I want to, I’m not scared of it anymore, I want to be vulnerable for you, I trust you, and I need you to trust me.” Molly nodded then, telling him silently she did trust him. “I want you to be mine, once this is done, I want to be able to tell everyone you’re mine, I know I don’t deserve a second chance but I really fucking want one, I’m ready this time, I’m not gonna fuck it up,” Harry promised her, and Molly, again, just nodded, a little lost for words, a lot overwhelmed. “I want you to wear this, and I never want you to take it off, if you don’t mind?” Harry asked, handing her the ring.

“Ok,” Molly blubbed, and Harry chuckled before sliding his ring onto the only finger it would fit, her second finger on her right hand. It was only then Molly noticed the ‘H’ engraved into the metal. Molly took a shaky breath staring at the ring, before bending and catching Harry’s lips with hers. They didn’t need to say anything else, it was all lingering in everything else, in Harry’s ring on her finger, in his other words, in Molly’s tears and her simple ok, and in the sweet kiss that made Molly feel as far from the fear she’d felt earlier as she possibly could. He was her safe place, and the edge, and everything in between. They weren’t hiding how they felt, they didn’t need to when everything else spoke so loudly for them.

I have, obviously, a very love-hate relationship with this chapter and I’m anxious for your thoughts and feelings adn theories. But as always that ask box is waiting for you and I shall answer them all Sunday afternoon/evening!

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, tugging slightly as if that would somehow untangle the mess in his mind. Sophia’s laugh from the garden echoed faintly through the villa, and his stomach churned. He liked her energy, her confidence. But the guilt that came with thinking about her when Y/N’s face kept flashing in his mind was unbearable.

And Y/N… She was everything he wanted. Except he didn’t know if she wanted him in the same way. Not really. Her guardedness, her hesitance in showing her feelings publicly, gnawed at him. It felt like she was holding back, and it made him question everything. Was she scared? Or just not as into him as he was into her?

He leaned back against the headboard, eyes closing briefly as he exhaled deeply. It was strange—he felt drained in a way he couldn’t fully explain. Being in this villa, surrounded by people constantly, was supposed to be exciting, fun, and carefree. Instead, it felt like he was carrying the weight of two different versions of himself: the one who wanted to let go and the one who couldn’t stop thinking about what he might lose if he did.

The door creaked open softly, and Harry glanced up to see Sophia stepping in. Her small smile was warm but carried a hint of curiosity. She walked toward him slowly, hands clasped behind her back.

“Thought I’d find you in here,” she said, her voice light but purposeful. “Everyone’s outside. It’s a bit of a vibe.”

Harry forced a smile. “Needed some space.”

Sophia tilted her head, her eyes scanning his face. “Heavy day?”

“You could say that,” he replied, leaning back against the headboard.

Sophia took a step closer, perching on the bed opposite him. “Well, if you’re looking for something to take your mind off it, I was thinking… maybe you’d want to sleep outside with me tonight?”

Her tone was casual, but her intent was clear. The corners of her mouth lifted in an inviting smile as she waited for his response.

Harry’s heart skipped a beat. He knew this moment was coming; he’d felt it brewing all day. And yet, faced with it, the words caught in his throat. Finally, he managed a smile, soft but apologetic, and shook his head.

“I appreciate the offer,” he started, his tone careful. “But I think I’m going to stay in here tonight. ”

The change in Sophia’s expression was subtle but sharp. Her smile faltered, her eyes narrowing just slightly. “With Y/N?” she repeated, her voice tinged with disbelief.

Harry nodded, feeling the weight of his decision in the air between them. “Yeah. I just… I need to sort things out with her.”

Sophia’s posture stiffened, and she let out a dry laugh. “Wow. So, after everything today, you’re still chasing her?”

“It’s not about chasing,” Harry said quickly, his voice firm but not unkind. “It’s about what feels right. And I owe it to her—to us—to figure that out.”

Sophia crossed her arms, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “You know what, Harry? Maybe you should figure it out. Because right now, it feels like you’re just stringing people along.”

Harry flinched at her words but didn’t argue. Instead, he exhaled deeply. “I’m sorry if it feels that way. That’s not my intention, Sophia. I think you’re amazing. But my head’s a mess, and I can’t give you what you deserve while I’m still working out what I want.”

Sophia stood, her movements sharp. “Right. Well, good luck figuring it out. Hope she’s worth it.”

Without another word, she turned and walked out, leaving Harry alone once again. He leaned forward, running his hands through his hair and letting out a long, frustrated sigh.

“Great job, Harry,” he muttered to himself. “One more bridge burned.”

“Ah, poor Harry. Torn between two beauties and about as decisive as a toddler choosing an ice cream flavour. Don’t worry, mate, I’m sure this will definitely work out well for you. Or not.”

Y/N stepped in softly, already dressed in her pyjamas: an oversized shirt and comfortable shorts. Her face was bare, her hair tied loosely back, and a slight crease of uncertainty lined her brow. She wasn’t sure how to approach Harry, especially after the game earlier and everything that followed.

Harry was lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling, though his gaze flickered toward her briefly as she entered. He didn’t say anything, and neither did she. The lights were still on, casting a warm glow across the room, highlighting the neatly made beds of those who hadn’t yet retired for the night.

Y/N moved to her side of the bed, placing her water bottle on the nightstand before sitting down. The mattress dipped slightly under her weight as she uncapped the bottle and took one last sip. For a moment, she simply sat there, her fingers nervously playing with the hem of her shirt.

Then, without a word, she slid under the covers, turning onto her side to face the wall. She curled up slightly, pulling the duvet up to her shoulders, her breathing slow and steady as she stared into the soft light of the room.

Harry shifted, lying on his side but with his back to her. He had hoped she might say something, even something small—an olive branch, a sign that she wanted to bridge the gap between them. But her quiet, distant demeanor said otherwise.

He exhaled silently, the weight of the day pressing heavier on him now that they were so close yet felt so far apart.

The unspoken tension hung between them like a thread stretched taut, fragile and fraying at the edges.

The tension in the room shifted suddenly as Harry felt her arms wrap around his torso from behind. The warmth of her embrace caught him off guard, making him still for a moment. Her cold feet brushed against his thigh, sending a sharp contrast through his skin, and he shivered involuntarily.

Her breath, soft and warm, tickled the nape of his neck, and before he could even process what was happening, she pressed a gentle kiss just under his ear. The sensation sent a jolt through him, her touch tender yet charged with unspoken emotion. Her arms tightened around him as if she didn’t want him slipping away—not tonight.

Harry’s heart raced, his mind struggling to catch up with his body’s reaction. It was intimate, more than he expected, and far more than he thought she’d allow herself to give after the events of the day.

His hand instinctively moved to hers, resting over the warmth of her grip. His fingers intertwined with hers for a brief moment, grounding him in the moment.

He turned his head slightly, his voice soft. “Y/N?”

She didn’t answer, only pressing closer, her face near his shoulder.

Harry exhaled, letting himself relax into the moment before gently shifting. Slowly, he turned around to face her, their eyes meeting in the dimly lit room. Her face was close, her expression vulnerable, a mix of hesitation and longing.

For a moment, they simply looked at each other, no words exchanged but everything they needed to say hanging in the space between them. Harry’s hand moved up to brush a strand of hair from her face, his touch lingering against her cheek.

“Is this real?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N didn’t answer with words. Instead, she leaned in, her forehead resting lightly against his, her breaths mingling with his. It was intimate, unguarded, and for the first time in days, it felt like they were finally on the same page—even if they hadn’t spoken a word.

Y/N’s voice was barely audible as she whispered, her lips close to his ear. “I don’t want to argue or fight anymore.”

Harry felt his chest tighten at the vulnerability in her tone. He nodded, his own voice soft but firm. “Neither do I. I hate conflict. Especially with you.”

She hesitated, her fingers brushing against his chest as if gathering courage. Her heartbeat seemed to echo in her ears, but she pressed on. “I like you, Harry. Too much to let anyone snatch you away in three days—not when we haven’t even given ourselves a proper chance.”

Her words hung in the air, raw and unfiltered. Harry’s lips curved into a smile, small but genuine, as he searched her eyes for any trace of doubt. “Do you really feel something for me?” he asked, his voice tinged with hope.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a faint smile playing on her lips despite her nerves. “Do you seriously doubt it?”

Harry didn’t respond immediately, his silence speaking volumes. Y/N’s gaze softened as she scooted closer, the space between them disappearing. Her hand rested lightly against his cheek, grounding him in the moment.

“I don’t ever want you to hesitate, Harry,” she murmured, her tone gentle but resolute. “Not about me. Not about us.”

Her words hit him like a wave, washing away the doubts and confusion he’d been wrestling with. Harry’s hand covered hers, pressing it against his cheek as he leaned into her touch. His eyes searched hers, seeing nothing but sincerity and determination.

“I won’t,” he promised quietly, the weight of her words settling in his chest. “Not anymore.”

Y/N’s lips curved into a soft smile, and for the first time in what felt like days, the tension between them seemed to dissolve. She rested her forehead against his, their breaths mingling in the shared quiet of the room.

The sound of laughter and footsteps signaled the return of the other Islanders, their chatter filling the shared bedroom as they trickled in to wind down for the night. Harry glanced toward the door, his eyes darting back to Y/N’s as a cheeky grin tugged at his lips. Without a word, he grabbed the edge of the duvet and pulled it up over both their heads, creating a cocoon of privacy amidst the chaos.

“Real subtle, Harry,” Y/N whispered, her voice laced with amusement as she stifled a giggle.

“Just trying to save us from the peanut gallery,” Harry muttered, though there was a playful twinkle in his eyes.

The muffled voices of the Islanders grew louder, and it didn’t take long before Lucas clocked the huddle under the duvet.

“Oh, what’s all this then?” Lucas called out, his tone dripping with mischief. He let out a loud wolf whistle, drawing attention from the rest of the room. “Harry and Y/N, hiding away like two lovebirds under there!”

Before either of them could respond, Lucas threw himself dramatically onto the lump beneath the duvet. The impact caused Harry to groan in mock annoyance, and Y/N couldn’t hold back her laughter.

“Get off, you prat!” Harry protested, his voice muffled by the blanket as he shoved at Lucas’s weight.

“Oi, don’t mind me!” Lucas teased, sprawling over them with exaggerated effort. “Just making sure you’re not sneaking off to the Hideaway without telling us.”

The room erupted into laughter, and Amber chimed in, “Lucas, leave ’em alone! Let them have their moment, for God’s sake.”

“Moment? They’re about to suffocate under there!” Lucas quipped, finally rolling off and collapsing onto his own bed with a cheeky grin.

Harry threw back the duvet just enough to glare at Lucas. “You’re lucky I don’t kick you out of this room, mate.”

“Love you too, pal,” Lucas replied with a wink, settling in and pulling his own duvet over himself.

Y/N shook her head, still giggling as she turned back to Harry. “You’re surrounded by absolute children.”

Harry sighed dramatically but smiled. “Tell me about it.”

Underneath the playful banter and teasing, there was a sense of ease that hadn’t been there earlier. Even in the chaos of the shared room, Harry and Y/N felt like they’d carved out a little space for themselves.

The morning sun poured into the villa, bathing the kitchen in a golden glow. The smell of sizzling eggs and toast wafted through the air as Islanders milled about, still in their pyjamas and nursing mugs of tea. Y/N was leaning against the counter, a relaxed smile on her face as she watched Harry flip a pancake with surprising precision.

“You’re getting the hang of it,” she teased, nudging him lightly with her elbow.

“Hang of it? I’m basically a Michelin-star chef,” Harry quipped, sliding the pancake onto a plate and passing it to her. “There you go, princess.”

The others in the kitchen exchanged knowing looks, their grins growing as Harry reached to brush flour off Y/N’s cheek.

“Oh, they’re insufferable,” Amber groaned, though she couldn’t hide her amusement.

“Leave them alone,” Lucas chimed in, pouring milk into his tea. “They’re in their honeymoon phase.”

Chloe smirked as she leaned against the counter next to Y/N. “Alright, lovebirds, enough showing off. Y/N, come have a chat with me.”

Y/N raised a brow, momentarily hesitant to leave Harry’s side, but Chloe was already pulling her by the arm toward the seating area. She shot Harry a look over her shoulder, and he gave her a playful wink before turning back to the stove.

“Alright,” Y/N said as they sat down, “what’s all this about?”

Chloe’s eyes sparkled with excitement, leaning in conspiratorially. “Okay, so… Lucas.”

Y/N’s brows shot up. “Lucas?”

“Lucas,” Chloe repeated, her voice dropping to a whisper even though the kitchen wasn’t far. “We had a bit of a moment last night. Well, not just a moment—a proper chat. He was sweet, funny… cheeky as always, but he said some things that had me thinking.”

Y/N leaned forward, intrigued. “Go on.”

Chloe grinned. “He said he’d been watching me in the challenges, and he thinks I’m the ‘dark horse’ of the villa. Can you believe that? And then—get this—he said he couldn’t stop looking at me during that Pilates session yesterday.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, and she clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh. “No way! What did you say?”

“I told him to behave himself, obviously,” Chloe said with a dramatic eye roll, though her cheeks flushed. “But… it felt good, you know? Like, maybe he actually sees me. Not just as the ‘fun one,’ but as someone he’d be serious about.”

Y/N smiled warmly, placing a hand on Chloe’s arm. “You deserve that, Chlo. If he’s making you feel good and treating you right, then I say go for it.”

Chloe bit her lip, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face. “Yeah, but you know me. I don’t want to get carried away and end up hurt.”

“Take your time,” Y/N advised. “Feel it out, but don’t let fear stop you. You’re amazing, and if Lucas doesn’t realise that, he’s not worth your energy.”

Chloe smiled, squeezing Y/N’s hand. “Thanks, babe. You’re a good egg, you know that?”

Y/N chuckled. “I try.”

Harry carried a tray of scrambled eggs, toast, and a couple of plates over to where Y/N was lounging by the outdoor table. Her legs were tucked underneath her, the morning sun making her skin glow. He set the tray down with a flourish.

“Breakfast, madam,” he said with a cheeky grin.

Y/N smiled, sitting up. “Thanks, chef. You didn’t spit in it, did you?”

“Only a little,” he teased, grabbing a slice of toast for himself before retreating to sit on the bean bag beside Lucas.

As Lucas muttered something about the game last night and nudged Harry, he suddenly froze. “Ah, crap,” Harry muttered, slapping his hand against his forehead.

“What now?” Lucas asked, raising a brow.

“Left the smoothies on the counter,” Harry groaned, already pushing himself up. “Be back in a sec.”

As Harry disappeared into the villa, Sophia sauntered across the garden and, with all the grace of a lion claiming its territory, plopped herself onto the bean bag Harry had just vacated.

“Morning,” she said with a saccharine smile, turning her attention directly to Y/N.

Y/N glanced up from her plate, her smile fading slightly. “Morning.”

Sophia leaned back, playing with her hair as she tilted her head. “So… I have to ask,” she started, her tone light but her eyes sharp. “What did you say to Harry last night to make him change his mind?”

Y/N paused mid-chew, swallowing before setting her fork down deliberately. “Not sure what you mean,” she said calmly.

Sophia smirked. “Oh, come on. You must’ve said something. I mean, he was all over me one second, then suddenly he’s acting like I’ve got the plague. Gotta give you credit, though—you work fast.”

Y/N leaned back in her seat, her gaze steady. “I don’t need to convince anyone to do anything, Sophia. If Harry made a choice, it’s because it’s what he wanted. Maybe that’s something you should think about.”

Sophia laughed lightly, brushing imaginary lint off her shorts. “Oh, I’m not mad. I’m actually amused. Just watching you claw to keep him when you’re usually so… what’s the word? Aloof?”

Y/N’s jaw tightened, but her voice remained calm. “It’s not about clawing. When you’re confident in a connection, you don’t have to fight for it. Guess that’s why you’re so interested in what’s going on.”

The subtle jab didn’t go unnoticed. Sophia’s smile faltered for a moment before she leaned forward, her tone dropping. “You’re cute when you’re defensive. But let’s not pretend, yeah? Harry’s got options. And three days isn’t a lot of time to lock anything down. I’d be careful if I were you.”

Y/N stared at her for a moment, then smiled sweetly. “Thanks for the advice, but I think I’ll be fine. And by the way, if Harry has options, so do I.”

Before Sophia could retort, Harry returned, holding two smoothies in his hands. He stopped short, glancing between the two of them, sensing the tension. “What’s going on here?”

Sophia stood, her grin back in place as she brushed past him. “Nothing at all. Just girl talk.”

Harry frowned, watching her walk away before turning to Y/N. “Everything alright?”

Y/N smiled, taking one of the smoothies from him. “Perfect. Thanks for breakfast.”

Harry hesitated, glancing back toward Sophia before sitting beside Y/N. “She didn’t say anything, did she?”

Y/N shook her head, sipping her smoothie. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

Harry’s lips quirked into a small smile as he watched her. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“And don’t you forget it,” she said, nudging him with her shoulder.

....

-> part 8

let me know if you want to get tagged!

“Y/N,” he started, his voice soft but steady. “Can we talk?”

Ah, Harry. The king of timing. Nothing like waiting until the absolute worst moment to finally address the elephant in the villa

She didn’t respond immediately, finishing with her make-up wipe before tossing it into the bin. Finally, she turned to face him, arms crossed. “Talk about what, Harry?”

He took a tentative step forward. “About today. About… everything.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her expression guarded. “Now you want to talk? After ignoring me all day?”

Harry winced, running a hand through his hair. “I wasn’t ignoring you. I just… I didn’t know how to approach you.”

“Approach me?” she repeated, her tone sharp. “Harry, you’re my partner. We’re supposed to be in this together. And yet, you’re off entertaining Sophia while I’m left wondering where we stand.”

“It wasn’t like that,” he said quickly, his voice rising slightly. “She asked me to go on the date. I didn’t have a choice.”

“And after the date?” Y/N shot back. “Did you have a choice then? Because you chose not to come talk to me. You chose to avoid me, Harry.”

He sighed, his shoulders sagging. “You’re right. I should’ve come to you. I should’ve explained everything, but I was… scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“Of making things worse,” he admitted. “I knew you were upset, and I thought if I gave you space, it might help. Clearly, I was wrong.”

Y/N’s gaze softened slightly, though her stance remained firm. “You can’t just shut me out, Harry. That’s not how this works. If we’re going to survive in here, we need to communicate. Otherwise, what’s the point?”

He nodded, stepping closer until there was barely any space between them. “You’re right. I messed up, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel ignored or unimportant because you’re not. You’re the only one I care about in here, Y/N.”

Her eyes searched his, looking for any sign of insincerity but finding none. Slowly, her arms uncrossed, and she let out a sigh. “Do you like her, Harry?” she asked suddenly, her tone firm. “And I mean be straight with me. No bullshit.”

Harry froze, his eyes darting away as he hesitated. “I… I don’t know,” he admitted after a long pause. “I like spending time with you, Y/N. But I… I guess I just want to keep my options open for now.”

“Ah, the classic ‘keep my options open.’ Translation: I like you but not enough to close the shop.”

Her expression faltered for a moment, the bluntness of his words cutting deeper than she expected. She straightened, her walls going up again. “Right. Well, thanks for being honest, I suppose,” she said, her voice quieter but edged with hurt. “But don’t expect me to wait around while you figure out your options, Harry. I’m not a backup plan.”

“Backup plan? Y/N isn’t even the plan—she’s the main event, Harry!”

Harry’s face fell. “Y/N, it’s not like that—”

“Then what is it like?” she interrupted, meeting his gaze with a steely resolve. “Because right now, it feels like I’m the one doing all the work to keep this going. And if you’re not all in, maybe we’re wasting our time.”

Harry opened his mouth to respond but faltered, unable to find the right words. Y/N shook her head, turning back to the mirror. “You know where I stand. Prove to me that I’m wrong about you, Harry. Otherwise, don’t bother.”

For the first time that day, Harry didn’t know what to say.

The next morning, Y/N and Chloe were sprawled out on yoga mats on the villa terrace, catching their breath after finishing a Pilates YouTube video. The sun bathed the terrace in a warm glow, and the faint sound of birds chirping added to the calmness of the scene. Y/N wiped her forehead with a towel, her expression distant.

“Nothing like a bit of Pilates to stretch the legs and spill the tea.”

Chloe noticed immediately. “Alright, spill. You’ve been quiet all morning. What’s going on?”

Y/N sighed, sitting up and crossing her legs. “It’s Harry,” she admitted, her voice tinged with frustration. “Last night, we had a chat. I asked him straight up if he liked Sophia, and do you know what he said?”

Chloe raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“He said he wants to keep his options open,” Y/N said, her voice cracking slightly. “I mean, what am I supposed to do with that? I feel like an idiot for even caring at this point.”

Chloe sat up, her face serious. “Y/N, listen to me. You cannot let him see you sweat. If he wants to keep his options open, fine. Let him. But you need to act like you couldn’t care less about him or Sophia.”

Y/N frowned. “Easier said than done. I don’t know if I can just switch off how I feel.”

“You don’t have to switch it off,” Chloe said, her tone firm but encouraging. “You just have to fake it for now. Trust me, guys like Harry hate feeling like they don’t have control. If you act unbothered, it’ll throw him off completely. And in the meantime, you’ll give yourself space to figure out what you actually want.”

“Chloe, handing out advice like smoothies. And she’s not wrong. Nothing shakes a lad like a girl who’s unbothered.”

Y/N bit her lip, considering Chloe’s words. “So, what? Just pretend like I don’t care?”

Chloe nodded. “Exactly. Smile, laugh, chat with everyone else, and don’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you upset. Time will do the rest.”

A small smile broke through Y/N’s conflicted expression. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It’s not,” Chloe admitted with a grin. “You’ve got this.”

Y/N took a deep breath, the weight on her chest feeling slightly lighter. “Alright. Let’s see how unbothered I can be.”

Chloe laughed, nudging her playfully. “That’s the spirit. Now, how about we reward ourselves with a smoothie?”

Harry stood at the kitchen counter, his hands wrapped around a steaming mug of tea. The morning sun streamed through the villa’s glass doors, casting a warm glow over the open-plan space. Lucas joined him, rubbing sleep from his eyes and grabbing a mug from the cupboard.

“Nothing like a cuppa first thing,” Lucas muttered, pouring hot water into his mug. He turned, leaning against the counter, and nodded toward the terrace where Y/N and Chloe were mid-stretch, their workout mats rolled out on the tiled floor. “Well, they’re looking pretty good this morning, aren’t they?”

Harry chuckled, taking a sip of his tea. “Yeah, they’re putting in the work, that’s for sure.”

Lucas tilted his head, watching Chloe as she effortlessly moved through a set of lunges. “Chloe’s got some legs on her, mate. Proper strong. Bet she could kick a ball further than me.”

Harry snorted. “Wouldn’t be hard. Your kick’s shocking.”

Lucas smirked but didn’t argue, his eyes still on Chloe. “Fair play, though. She’s got this, like, natural confidence about her. Proper attractive, you know?”

Harry raised an eyebrow, hiding a grin behind his mug. “You’ve got it bad, haven’t you?”

“What can I say?” Lucas replied with a shrug, setting his mug down. “Anyway, enough about me. Did you sort things out with Y/N last night?”

Harry’s smile faltered, and he stared into his tea as if the answers might be swirling in the cup. “We talked,” he said slowly.

Lucas’s eyebrows shot up. “And? What happened?”

“She’s not happy, mate,” Harry admitted, leaning against the counter. “Asked me straight up if I liked Sophia. Told her I wanted to keep my options open.”

Lucas groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Oh, Harry. Why would you say that?”

“Because it’s the truth,” Harry said defensively. “I don’t want to lead her on if I’m not sure.”

“Right, but you’re not exactly making it easy for yourself, are you?” Lucas countered. “Y/N’s not the type to just sit around and wait for you to make up your mind. If anything, she’ll use this as fuel to move on.”

Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know. Chloe’s probably in her ear right now, telling her to forget about me.”

Lucas glanced back at the terrace, where Chloe and Y/N were laughing between stretches. “If she’s smart, she’ll listen. Chloe doesn’t mess about.”

Harry’s jaw tightened as he looked out at Y/N. She was glowing in the morning light, her hair pulled back and her smile wide as she joked with Chloe. “I just… I don’t know what to do, mate. I like her, but Sophia… she’s got this vibe, you know? Makes me wonder what else is out there.”

Lucas shook his head. “You’re playing with fire. If you’re not careful, you’re going to lose Y/N and not even get a chance with Sophia. Girls talk, mate. And no one likes a bloke who can’t make up his mind.”

Harry didn’t respond, his eyes fixed on Y/N as she stretched her arms above her head. The thought of her pulling away, of her laughter directed at someone else, left a sour taste in his mouth. He took another sip of tea, trying to shake the feeling.

“You’ve got to figure it out, Harry,” Lucas said, his tone serious. “Because right now, you’re playing a game you might not win.”

The sun blazed down on the villa as the Islanders gathered on the lawn, coffee cups in hand and nerves bubbling under the surface. In the center of the garden stood a brightly colored spinning wheel, its glossy paint glinting in the sunlight like a harbinger of chaos. The air hummed with a mix of anticipation and dread.

Y/N adjusted her sunglasses, leaning back lazily as Chloe leaned closer.

“I’m telling you now, this game is going to start World War Three,” Chloe muttered, her tone low but laced with amusement.

Y/N let out a small laugh, though her stomach was already knotting. Across the lawn, Harry was lounging on the beanbags, his body sprawled out casually as Sophia leaned in close, whispering something in his ear that made him grin.

“It’s 10 a.m., and the Islanders are already sweating. Not from the heat, though—oh no. This morning, we’ve gifted them a little something we like to call Lips Don’t Lie. Because nothing says ‘good morning’ like breaking hearts before brunch!”

“Here’s the deal: spin the wheel, land on ‘Snog,’ ‘Spill,’ or ‘Steal.’ Kiss someone, confess your darkest secret, or swipe a kiss from another Islander’s partner. Oh, and there’s a lovely stack of truths in those envelopes, just in case things weren’t messy enough.”

“Alright, Y/N,” Lucas called out with a cheeky grin. “You’re up first!”

The group erupted into chants, and Y/N stood, her shoulders squared as she approached the wheel. The handle felt cold under her fingertips as she spun it sharply, the clattering sound making her heart race.

It landed on ‘Spill.’

“Easy one to start with,” Chloe teased.

Lucas, practically vibrating with excitement, grabbed an envelope. “Alright, Y/N,” he said, his grin devilish. “If you had to recouple with someone other than Harry, who would it be?”

The crowd fell silent, all eyes on Y/N. She felt Harry’s gaze burning into her, but she kept her expression cool.

She tapped her chin thoughtfully, dragging it out. “Hmm… Lucas,” she said finally, turning to him with a sly smile. “You always know how to make me laugh.”

Laughter rippled through the group as Lucas dramatically clutched his chest. “My dream finally comes true.”

“Y/N keeping it light and breezy. But don’t worry, Harry—Lucas is just here for the bants. Or is he?”

Harry’s jaw clenched, his mug of tea now forgotten on the table beside him.

“Your turn, mate!” Callum called, his grin wide.

Harry stood, brushing off invisible lint from his shorts before giving the wheel a forceful spin. When it landed on ‘Snog,’ the group erupted with cheers and whistles.

Sophia’s eyes lit up before Harry even moved. Without a moment’s hesitation, he crossed the garden and kissed her, slow enough to make the others holler in delight.

Y/N felt Chloe nudge her hard. “Don’t react,” Chloe hissed. “He’s doing it to get a rise out of you.”

Y/N tilted her head, feigning indifference. “Couldn’t care less,” she said smoothly, though her nails dug into her palms.

“Oh, Harry. If this were chess, you’d be playing checkers. Y/N? Ice cold.”

Sophia’s turn was next, and the wheel landed on ‘Spill.’ She sauntered over to the stack of envelopes, picking one like it held her winning lottery numbers.

Tom read aloud, “Sophia, who do you think is your biggest competition in the villa?”

Sophia smirked, her gaze drifting lazily over the girls before landing squarely on Y/N.

“Y/N,” she said confidently. “She’s stunning, and, let’s face it, everyone seems to fancy her.”

The group erupted with laughter and gasps, while Y/N shot Sophia a sweet, unfazed smile. “Aw, thanks, babe,” she said lightly.

“Sophia, dishing out backhanded compliments like cocktails. But let’s be honest, she’s right. Y/N’s still the main event.”

Max spun the wheel next, landing on ‘Snog.’ Without missing a beat, he turned to Y/N. “Sorry, Harry,” he said with a mischievous grin before kissing her, lingering just long enough to turn the group rowdy.

When Y/N sat back down, Chloe clapped her on the back. “Legend.”

Harry’s expression didn’t flinch, but his eyes burned into Y/N’s as she casually sipped her water.

Finally, Tom pulled an envelope from the truth pile, holding it up dramatically. “Time for a big one!” he announced.

The group quieted as Tom read aloud, “One Islander confessed: ‘I still think about kissing Y/N.’”

The garden froze.

Amber’s mouth dropped. “Who said that?!”

The boys erupted into teasing accusations, whistles flying as Lucas turned to Harry with a smirk. “C’mon, mate. You’ve got guilty written all over your face.”

Harry’s jaw tightened as he glared at Lucas. “Didn’t hear my name, did you?”

“Oh, Harry. Denial isn’t just a river in Egypt, and your face says it all.”

Chloe leaned into Y/N’s ear, whispering, “You’ve got him rattled.”

Y/N shrugged, her voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “Not my problem.”

“Whew, what a morning! Secrets revealed, kisses stolen, and Harry’s mood hitting boiling point. And we haven’t even had lunch yet. Buckle up, folks—this villa’s about to erupt.”

The villa was quiet after the chaos of the game, with most of the Islanders scattered in their own corners, trying to digest the truths and dares that had been laid bare. Y/N was perched on the edge of the terrace, her foot tapping against the ground as her mind replayed every moment of the game—Harry’s snog with Sophia, the truth bomb about someone still thinking of kissing her, and the way Harry’s eyes had burned into her the entire time.

She heard footsteps approaching and sighed. She didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“Not now, Harry,” she muttered, her tone tired but edged with annoyance.

“Yeah, well, I think now’s the perfect time,” Harry said, his voice low but charged. He moved closer, stopping just a step behind her.

Y/N whipped around, her frustration spilling over. “What do you want, Harry? Haven’t you had enough fun for one day?”

His jaw tensed. “I came to talk because clearly, we need to. But if you’re going to start throwing digs, I can walk right back out.”

“Oh, how generous of you,” she shot back, crossing her arms. “Do you want a medal for gracing me with your presence after ignoring me all day? Or is this just damage control because you know how bad you looked out there?”

Harry’s brows knitted together, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “You’re acting like I’m the only one who played the game! What about you? Max kissed you, and you didn’t seem too bothered about that.”

“Don’t you dare,” Y/N said, stepping closer as her voice dropped dangerously. “Max kissed me because you made it very clear where you stand today. I didn’t ask for it, but I wasn’t about to stop him just to protect your fragile ego.”

“Fragile ego?” Harry repeated, his voice rising. “Do you even hear yourself right now? You’re the one who’s been sulking and throwing me daggers all day, acting like I’ve done something unforgivable when all I did was follow the rules of a stupid game!”

“Stupid game?” she fired back, her tone cutting. “So kissing Sophia—grabbing her like you couldn’t wait to get your hands on her—that was just for the rules? Funny how you didn’t hesitate even for a second.”

Harry took a step closer, their faces now inches apart. “And what about you, huh? Smiling and laughing with Max like you were enjoying every second of it? Don’t act like you’re above playing games, Y/N.”

Her heart was pounding, her anger mixing with something else entirely—something she didn’t want to name. “You don’t get it, do you?” she said, her voice breaking slightly. “I didn’t want to play any games. I just wanted to feel like you cared. Like I wasn’t just… replaceable.”

Harry’s expression softened for a moment, but the tension between them was still thick. “You’re not replaceable,” he said, his voice quieter but no less intense. “You think I don’t care about you? I can’t even look at you without losing my head, Y/N. And yeah, I messed up today, but don’t for a second think that means I don’t want you.”

She blinked, caught off guard by the rawness in his voice. “Then why—”

Before she could finish, Harry reached out, cupping her face in his hands and pulling her into a kiss. It wasn’t soft or tentative—it was full of all the anger, frustration, and desire that had been constructing between them.

For a second, she resisted, her hands pushing lightly against his chest, but then she gave in, gripping his shirt as she kissed him back with equal intensity.

The world seemed to blur around them, the only sounds their ragged breaths and the faint hum of the villa in the distance. When they finally broke apart, both were breathing hard, their foreheads resting against each other.

“That’s why,” Harry said, his voice rough.

Y/N swallowed, her emotions a whirlwind. “This doesn’t fix anything,” she whispered, though her hands were still clutching his shirt.

“I know,” he replied, his thumb brushing against her cheek. “But it’s the truth.”

She pulled back slightly, her eyes searching his. “Then prove it, Harry. Because I’m not doing this halfway.”

He nodded, his gaze steady. “I will.”

As the distant chatter of the other Islanders drifted toward them, Y/N stepped back, her walls slowly rebuilding. “Good,” she said quietly before turning and walking back inside, leaving Harry standing there, watching her go.

“Well, if we were playing ‘Lips Don’t Lie,’ those two just failed spectacularly. But will Harry make good on his promise, or is Y/N setting herself up for more heartbreak? Stay tuned, folks. It’s about to get messy.”

-> part 7

let me know if you want to get tagged!

She reached up, brushing a stray curl from his forehead, and that was all it took. His eyes fluttered open, hazy with sleep but locking onto her immediately. A slow, lazy smile spread across his face.

“Mornin’,” he murmured, voice thick and gravelly.

Y/N felt her heart stutter in her chest. “Morning.”

Harry exhaled deeply, stretching slightly but keeping her close. “You stayed.”

Her lips twitched. “You think I was gonna leave you after everything?”

His hand slid up her back, fingertips tracing light patterns against her skin. “Would’ve chased after you if you did.”

She laughed softly, but there was something deeper behind her smile—something warm and real.

The moment was too perfect to ruin with words, so she didn’t say anything, just nestled closer, pressing her cheek to his chest as his arms tightened around her.

For a while, they just lay there, wrapped up in the quiet of the morning, pretending the rest of the villa didn’t exist.

But, of course, the villa always found a way to interrupt.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Lucas muttered as he sat up on the other couch, rubbing his face. “Some of us were tryna sleep without being blinded by all this romance, yeah?”

Y/N let out a small laugh, burying her face in Harry’s chest as he threw a pillow at Lucas. “You’re just bitter ‘cause no one wants to cuddle you, mate.”

Lucas smirked. “Oh, don’t worry about me, bro. I was plenty warm last night.”

Before anyone could question him, another phone buzzed, followed by a loud, high-pitched gasp.

All heads turned toward the villa entrance, where Sophia stood, holding her phone in both hands. A smug smile played on her lips as she looked around at the Islanders, letting the suspense build.

Then, in the most dramatic voice possible, she read aloud:

"Islanders, it’s time for a dumping. The girl with the most votes at the end of today… will be leaving the villa immediately."

The room went silent.

Y/N’s stomach clenched.

Harry’s grip on her tightened.

Ian’s voice, as always, broke the tension:

"Welp, looks like somebody’s about to get their suitcase packed. But the real question is… will they be walking out alone?"

The tension in the villa was unbearable. Even as the sun shone brightly over the terrace, an ominous weight lingered in the air, pressing down on all of them. Conversations were quieter, laughter forced. No one wanted to say it out loud, but they were all thinking the same thing—someone was leaving today.

And it could be Y/N.

She sat on the sun lounger, legs curled up beneath her, staring at the infinity pool without really seeing it. Her stomach churned with nerves, a mixture of dread and helplessness settling deep in her bones.

Harry sat beside her, knee bouncing restlessly. He hadn’t let her out of his sight all morning, his protective energy tangible, even in the silence.

“Talk to me,” he finally said, voice low. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Y/N exhaled, rubbing her arms. “I don’t know. Just… thinking.”

“About what?”

“About how quickly everything can change,” she admitted. “Yesterday, we were happy. And now—” She swallowed hard. “I might be leaving.”

Harry’s jaw clenched. “No. Don’t say that.”

She turned her head to him, giving a sad smile. “We don’t know what’s going to happen, Harry. I have to be realistic.”

His brows furrowed, frustration flickering across his features. “Realistic?” He shook his head. “Sod being realistic. We’ve got something real, don’t we?”

“Yeah,” she whispered. “We do.”

“Then let’s focus on that.” His fingers brushed against hers, gentle but firm. “No matter what happens, we’re in this together.”

Y/N wanted to believe him. She did believe him. But the fear was still there, gnawing at her, whispering worst-case scenarios in her ear.

Before she could say anything, Chloe appeared, marching towards them with determination. “Right, enough moping. We’re not sitting around acting like she’s already gone.”

Harry smirked slightly. “That was dramatic.”

Chloe shot him a look. “Not as dramatic as you pouting like a lovesick puppy all morning.”

Y/N laughed under her breath, and Chloe grinned, pleased. “See? That’s better. No more doom and gloom. Until we get a text, we’re carrying on as normal.”

Harry nodded, squeezing Y/N’s hand. “She’s right.”

Y/N took a deep breath, pushing away the nerves. Normal. Okay. I can do normal.

She wasn’t going to let this day be ruined by fear. Not yet.

Because for now, she was still here. And she wasn’t ready to say goodbye.

The villa was still buzzing with nervous energy, but that didn’t stop production from throwing in another challenge—because why let them sit in peace when they could stir the pot instead?

The Islanders stood in their swimsuits by the pool, the sun beating down on them as the challenge setup was revealed. A giant inflatable heart sat in the middle of the garden, with a runway leading up to it. Next to it, a podium with a very smug-looking Callum, who cleared his throat before reading out the rules.

"Alright, Islanders, it’s time for a challenge that’s guaranteed to get pulses racing. Welcome to… ‘The Heat Is On!’”

The group cheered, but Y/N could already sense the impending chaos.

"Here’s how it works: Each of you will take turns pulling a card that gives you a steamy dare to complete. It could be a kiss, a sexy dance, or even revealing a juicy secret about someone in the villa. But be warned—some of these dares might land you in very hot water. Now, let’s get to it, shall we?”

Lucas immediately rubbed his hands together. “Oh, this is gonna be a madness.”

The girls took their seats on the benches while the boys stood in front of them, ready for the first dare.

Callum reached into the bowl first and pulled out a card, chuckling before her read it out loud.

"Chloe, give a lap dance to the person you fancy the most in the villa."

Chloe’s face lit up, and she immediately turned to Lucas. “Right, sit down, you.”

The Islanders erupted into cheers as Lucas plopped onto the chair, spreading his arms out smugly. “Go on then, don’t be shy.”

Chloe strutted toward him, rolling her shoulders back as she flicked her hair dramatically. The second the music kicked in, she moved, swaying her hips before dropping low between his legs. Lucas’ mouth fell open, his hands gripping his knees as Chloe ran her hands over his chest before whispering something in his ear that made his jaw go slack.

“Oi, that’s enough of that,” Callum laughed. “Get a room, you two!”

Lucas, clearly flustered, stood up, grabbed Chloe’s face, and kissed her full on the lips, pulling her close as the villa erupted in cheers.

Ian’s voice boomed through the speakers. “Well, well, well! Didn’t need a dare for that, did ya, Lucas?”

Chloe grinned as she walked back to the bench, and Y/N nudged her. “That was something.”

“Babe, I don’t do things by halves.”

Next up Callum, pulled a card and smirked before reading it aloud.

"Harry — Kiss the last person you had a dirty dream about."

The boys started hollering immediately, and Y/N felt her stomach drop as Callum handed the card to Harry.

“Oh, this is easy,” Lucas teased. “We all know who he’s picking.”

Harry shot him a warning look before turning toward Y/N. His eyes met hers, and her breath hitched.

Before she could react, Harry stepped forward, closing the distance between them. He reached for her waist, his fingers curling against her skin as he leaned in. The world blurred around her as his lips met hers—soft at first, almost teasing, before he deepened it, making her head spin.

Y/N melted into him, her hands sliding up to his shoulders as the cheers around them turned into a distant hum.

“Okay, okay, we get it, you fancy each other!” Amber laughed, clapping her hands.

Harry pulled away slowly, his forehead resting against Y/N’s for just a second before he stepped back. His hand lingered at her waist, his thumb brushing over her skin, and she shivered at the feeling.

Ian's voice cut in: “And here I was thinking he might pick Callum. Shocked, really.”

Callum turned to the group, barely able to contain his excitement. “Alright. The next dare is… Sophia, give the steamiest lap dance to the Islander you fancy the most.”

The villa exploded with shouts and laughter.

The reaction was instant.

“Oh, this is mad,” Callum wheezed.

Lucas howled with laughter. “This is about to be painful.”

All eyes flickered to Sophia, who plastered on a smug expression, even though everyone could see the wheels turning in her head.

For a second, she hesitated—because this was risky.

But then she flipped her hair over her shoulder, squared her shoulders, and strutted over to Harry.

Y/N, sitting cross-legged on the daybed, tensed, but she didn’t react. She didn’t need to. Because as soon as Sophia got close, Harry leaned back slightly, arms crossing over his chest.

When Sophia placed her hands on his shoulders, Harry let out a sharp laugh.

“Nah,” he said flatly, shaking his head. “I’m good, babe.”

The atmosphere shifted instantly.

Sophia froze.

The reaction from the villa was immediate—Lucas literally choked on his drink, Callum smacked his own forehead, and Amber was laughing.

Y/N felt her stomach flip at the sheer rejection on Sophia’s face.

But to her credit, Sophia recovered quickly, forcing a tight smile. “Alright,” she said breezily, flicking her hair back. “No worries.”

Then, in an attempt to save face, she turned to Callum instead.

The moment she moved towards him, Callum’s hands shot up defensively. “Nope! Keep me out of this.”

Ian’s voice cut through the villa speakers.

"Well, well, well… talk about a lap dance going horribly wrong. That’s two strikes, Sophia. Might want to cut your losses before you get a third."

Sophia forced a laugh, waving it off like she wasn’t absolutely mortified, before settling for Tom—who, to his credit, let it happen, but not without pulling the most awkward, stiff-body reaction ever.

The moment the dare was over, Sophia practically ran back to her seat.

The villa was still losing it, but Y/N couldn’t even enjoy it because all she could think about was the way Harry had shut it down instantly.

And when her eyes flickered to him, he was already looking at her.

His gaze was steady, like he wanted her to know—

There was never a choice.

It was always her.

Callum, still laughing from the madness of the game, held up his hands. “Right, right—that’s it, game over!” he announced, still grinning. “You lot need to start getting ready for tonight, and something tells me this is gonna be a big one.”

The energy shifted instantly. The challenge had been fun, full of shocking kisses, brutal rejections, and wild dares, but now? Now, the reality of the night ahead settled in.

Y/N barely heard the chatter around her as everyone began moving toward the villa. She felt the warmth of Harry’s hand brush against hers, lingering for just a second longer than necessary before he pulled away.

“Buzzing for the ceremony?” Lucas teased, slinging an arm around Chloe as they made their way inside.

Chloe rolled her eyes. “Buzzing? I feel ill, mate.”

Amber groaned. “I hate the waiting. Why do they always drag it out? Just tell us who’s getting dumped and put us out of our misery.”

“No one’s getting dumped yet,” Tom said, adjusting his mic pack. “Voting’s still gotta happen.”

Y/N swallowed hard, but Chloe, ever in tune with her emotions, gave her a reassuring nudge. “Come on, babe,” she murmured. “Let’s get ready.”

As they stepped into the dressing room, the villa’s buzzing energy dulled into something heavier, something more uncertain.

The fun was over.

Tonight, everything was about to change.

The villa was alive with the sounds of everyone getting ready—hairdryers whirring, perfume being spritzed, the occasional burst of laughter or nervous chatter—but somehow, Y/N and Harry had managed to steal a moment away from it all.

She stood on the balcony just outside the dressing room, the warm evening air brushing against her skin as she stared out at the softly lit garden. Everything felt different tonight.

She didn’t hear Harry approach until his arms wrapped around her waist from behind, pulling her back against his chest. “You alright?” he murmured, his lips brushing lightly against the shell of her ear.

Y/N exhaled, her hands instinctively resting over his. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I feel… uneasy and I don’t know if I’m ready for it.”

Harry turned her gently so she was facing him. He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his touch lingering. “I know what you mean,” he said, searching her eyes. “But I don’t want you overthinking tonight, alright? No matter what happens, I’ve got you.”

She let out a small, almost disbelieving laugh. “You say that, but—”

Harry cut her off by cupping her face, his thumb tracing softly along her jaw. “I mean it,” he said firmly. “I’m done letting things come between us. No games, no doubts. Just you and me, yeah?”

Y/N felt her heart squeeze, overwhelmed by the intensity in his gaze. The way he looked at her—as if she was the only thing that mattered in the world—made her chest ache.

She nodded, barely able to find her voice. “Yeah,” she whispered.

Harry smiled, slow and warm, before leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her lips. It wasn’t rushed or desperate like before—this was something deeper, something that felt like a promise.

Y/N melted into him, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as he deepened the kiss, his hands sliding down to rest on her hips. For a moment, the tension of the night ahead didn’t exist—there was only this, only them.

When they finally pulled apart, Harry rested his forehead against hers, exhaling softly. “Let’s go knock ‘em dead, yeah?”

Y/N smiled, feeling lighter than she had in days. “Yeah.”

Hand in hand, they stepped back inside, ready to face whatever came next.

The Islanders gathered around the firepit, the usual playful atmosphere nowhere to be found. Tension crackled in the air, heavy and suffocating. Everyone was on edge, shifting uncomfortably in their seats as they exchanged glances.

Y/N sat beside Chloe, her fingers laced tightly in her lap to keep from fidgeting. Harry stood behind her, his arms crossed, his jaw set as he scanned the group. Something felt off tonight.

The firelight flickered across their faces as the familiar voice of Ian Sterling broke through the silence, addressing the viewers at home.

"Tonight, our Islanders are about to learn their fate. The public has been voting, and let me tell ya… it’s about to get spicy. Some will be safe, but for one unlucky soul, their time in the villa is up. Let’s see who’s about to get a one-way ticket back to reality, shall we?"

The Islanders barely had a second to process that before a phone dinged.

The group froze.

Sophia, sitting with her legs crossed confidently, reached for her phone. She smirked as she read aloud:

"Islanders, the public has been voting for the most compatible couple. The results are in. The couples with the fewest votes are now vulnerable. The least compatible individual will be dumped from the villa tonight."

Gasps rippled through the group, and Y/N felt her stomach drop.

Lucas raked a hand through his hair. “Bloody hell…”

Another phone dinged.

This time, it was Amber’s. She inhaled sharply before reading:

"The following couples are safe and will remain in the villa:"

Everyone held their breath.

"Chloe and Lucas."

A wave of relief passed over them as Chloe clutched Lucas’s arm. He kissed her cheek, and they both exhaled.

"Max and Amber."

Amber clapped a hand over her heart, while Max let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head.

"Tom and Georgia."

Tom squeezed Georgia’s leg, while she simply smirked, looking entirely too self-satisfied.

The silence stretched unbearably before Amber continued.

"That means the remaining Islanders are at risk of being dumped."

Harry, Y/N, Sophia, and Callum.

Y/N’s ears rang as the reality of the situation crashed down on her. She felt Chloe grip her hand tightly.

Another phone dinged.

This time, it was in Y/N’s lap. Her stomach turned to stone.

Her fingers trembled as she picked it up, swallowing past the lump in her throat before reading the words aloud.

"The individual with the least amount of votes and therefore the next Islander to be dumped from the villa is…"

The pause was excruciating.

She forced herself to look up, meeting Harry’s intense gaze. His green eyes burned into hers, filled with something between desperation and defiance.

She inhaled sharply, then read the name.

The moment Y/N read the text, it was as if the world around her had gone silent. The words hung in the air like a death sentence.

"The individual with the least amount of votes and therefore the next Islander to be dumped from the villa is… Y/N."

For a second, no one moved. No one breathed.

Then—

"What?!" Chloe’s voice rang out, breaking the stillness like glass shattering.

The firepit erupted into chaos.

Chloe was on her feet instantly, eyes wide with disbelief. "Are you having a laugh?!"

Lucas swore under his breath. "Nah, this is bollocks."

Amber blinked rapidly, as if trying to process what she’d just heard. Even Callum, who had been sitting stiffly, let out a breath of frustration. "This don’t make any sense."

But Y/N barely heard them. Her vision blurred.

Her stomach twisted painfully as the realization hit her like a freight train.

This was it. Her time was up.

Harry was already looking at her. His jaw was clenched, his hands in fists at his sides, as though he was physically restraining himself from doing something reckless.

She exhaled shakily, gripping onto his shirt.

“I don’t want to leave you alone,” she admitted quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

It was the first thing she’d said since the text.

Harry turned to face her, his movements sharp, deliberate. He cupped her face between his hands like he needed to anchor her, to make sure she heard him properly.

"Then don’t."

Her eyes flickered up to his, wide with confusion. “What?”

His expression softened, but his voice was firm, unwavering.

"If you go, I go."

The words hit her like lightning to the chest.

The group erupted around them—gasps, exclamations, Chloe muttering, "Oh my God," under her breath. Lucas dragged a hand over his face, looking like he was witnessing actual madness.

"But you—" Y/N started, but he cut her off.

"I’m leaving with you," Harry said, as if it were the simplest decision in the world.

Sophia scoffed, folding her arms. “Oh, give me a break.”

Amber turned to her with a withering look. "Sophia, do us all a favor and shut up for once."

Harry didn’t even acknowledge them. His eyes never left Y/N’s.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” he said softly, challenging her. “Tell me I’m making a mistake, and I’ll stay.”

Y/N stared at him, stunned. Her heart was slamming against her ribs, her thoughts a mess.

This wasn’t how she thought things would go. She was meant to leave alone.

Not with him.

Her throat tightened. Everything in her was screaming at her to take his hand and just run.

Chloe let out a short, breathless laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. “Oh, this is proper Love Island history, this.”

And then—

Ian’s voice, as smug as ever, echoed through the speakers:

"Well, well, well… Looks like someone’s about to leave this villa, but they sure as hell won’t be walking out alone."

A shrill ping rang through the tense air, pulling everyone’s attention back to Y/N’s phone.

Her hands trembled as she unlocked it, the final blow already expected.

She swallowed hard before reading aloud, her voice barely steady:

"Y/N, pack your bags, say your goodbyes and leave the villa . #EndOfTheRoad #GoodbyesAreHard"

A fresh wave of emotions crashed over her.

This was it.

The villa was silent except for the sound of a few sniffles. The girls looked devastated, Chloe shaking her head like she still couldn’t believe this was happening. The boys looked pissed off, like they were seconds away from flipping the firepit over.

But it was Harry’s reaction that hit her the most.

His grip tightened around her hand—firm, certain. Like there was no force on this Earth that could pull him away from her.

She exhaled, nodding. "Let’s go."

And so they did.

The walk back to the villa was heavy, silent. Everyone trailed behind them, watching as Y/N led the way into the bedroom.

Chloe was the first to throw her arms around her. "I can't believe this," she murmured into her hair, her voice thick with emotion.

Y/N held on tight, soaking in every last second. "I love you."

Chloe let out a watery laugh. "Not me cryin' like a little bitch."

The other girls followed suit. But Y/N wasn’t paying them any mind.

Because when she turned around, Harry was packing.

His suitcase was open, his clothes being thrown in haphazardly.

It took a moment for her to process. And then it hit her.

She stepped toward him, eyes wide. "Harry, are you—"

He didn’t even look up. "Course I am."

Before she could react, another voice cut through the room.

"Are you actually serious?"

Sophia.

Y/N tensed as she turned, watching as Sophia pushed through the doorway. The rest of the group instinctively moved aside, giving her space.

Harry finally looked up, unimpressed. “What do you want?”

Sophia folded her arms tightly, her expression unreadable. But the way her fingers dug into her own skin gave her away—she was desperate.

"You leaving puts me in danger," she blurted out. "I could get dumped next!"

Harry let out a bitter laugh. "That's not my problem."

Sophia stepped closer, lowering her voice like she thought it would make a difference. "You never even gave me a chance, Harry. Not a real one. And now you're just—just throwing away everything we could've had for her?" She threw a sharp glare toward Y/N.

Harry stilled.

And then, he looked her straight in the eyes. Cold, unwavering.

"I never wanted to know you, Sophia," he said simply. "There was no need."

Sophia sucked in a sharp breath, as if he had physically hit her.

"And before you start blaming everyone else," he continued, stepping around her, "just remember—this is all on you."

He slung his bag over his shoulder and reached for Y/N’s suitcase, pulling it up as well before looking back at her.

"Ready?"

Y/N nodded, her chest tight, emotions threatening to overwhelm her.

Harry took her hand again, leading her through the villa one last time.

By the front door of the villa, the Islanders gathered, forming a tight circle around Y/N and Harry.

It was bittersweet—every tear, every whispered goodbye.

Chloe was the first to wrap her arms around Y/N again, holding on like she never wanted to let go. “These are happy tears,” she sniffled, pulling back just enough to look Y/N in the eyes. “Because you found what you came here for, babe. And that’s love.”

Y/N smiled, eyes glossy. “I really did.”

Lucas turned to Harry, gripping his shoulders before pulling him into a proper hug. “You’re doin’ the right thing, mate,” he murmured, patting his back. “Proud of you.”

Harry nodded, swallowing thickly. No words were needed.

One by one, they hugged, laughed softly through the tears, whispered their last words to Y/N and Harry before pulling back.

All except for Sophia and Georgia.

They stood off to the side, watching with unreadable expressions, but neither said a word.

Harry didn’t spare them a glance.

With one final deep breath, he turned to Y/N and offered his hand.

She took it without hesitation.

And together—with smiles on their faces, hands intertwined, and hearts steady—they walked out of the villa.

----