Best friends. A fake relationship. One weekend in Edinburgh—and maybe a shot at something real.
Author's note: This is a repost of the original story I first shared on Patreon. I’ve done a bit of light editing throughout—tightening up the prose, tweaking a few lines, and adding in some original text that was previously only on Patreon (including a few extended moments I really loved). Thank you so much for reading (or re-reading!)—your support means the world. I hope you enjoy this version just as much, if not more. 🤍
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The soft hum of the evening surrounded them as they sat on Harry’s plush couch, nestled in the heart of his spacious home. The minimalist decor of his living room reflected the careful balance between his hectic life in the spotlight and his need for peace. His house, though large, was warm, with low lighting that gave it a cozy, intimate feel. The air was thick with the scent of the coffee table candles he’d lit earlier—notes of sandalwood and something sweet.
Harry sat next to Y/N, his body half-turned toward her as he read a book, legs tucked beneath him like a cat seeking comfort. There was a distinct softness about him when he was in his own space, away from the flashing cameras and curious eyes of the public. His hair, dark and messy, tumbled over his forehead, catching in the dim light, giving him a boyish charm that contrasted sharply with his usual confident and polished public persona.
He wore a simple white t-shirt, the fabric clinging loosely to his lean frame. His broad shoulders spoke of strength, but his posture, slightly hunched as he leaned into his book, gave off an air of vulnerability. His long fingers traced the edges of the pages absentmindedly, and now and then, his green eyes flicked up from the book, studying Y/N with a kind of quiet amusement, like he was aware of the unspoken understanding that lay between them.
Harry had always been attentive, almost in a way that felt second nature, as though he knew more about her moods than she did. There was something undeniably magnetic about him—his laugh was a little softer here, his voice a touch lower. His fame could never overshadow the gentle heart he showed her when they were alone.
Y/N’s eyes hovered over the same paragraph for what felt like the hundredth time. The words blurred together, the meaning lost as her mind wandered to the man sitting beside her. She was supposed to be reading a novel on leadership—something meant to inspire her as she navigated her demanding corporate job—but her thoughts kept drifting back to him. It was ironic, really. The book talked about control and decisiveness, yet here she was, lost in the one thing she couldn’t control: her feelings for Harry.
She had always found him attractive. No—more than attractive. Beautiful in the kind of way that felt effortless. His messy hair, the way his lips quirked into a half-smile, those green eyes that seemed to see straight through her… It all added up to someone she could never quite believe was real. He’d always been larger than life to her, even before the fame. Back when they were younger, when they were just two young adults with dreams and no idea where life would take them.
But then, his life had soared into stardom, and hers had stayed grounded in the corporate world. He became Harry Styles—the Harry Styles—and she remained his best friend, hidden away from the glamour of his world. She had watched as women swooned over him, throwing themselves at his feet, and she had silently swallowed her feelings. She knew she could never compete. He was out of her league, in every possible way.
And yet, sitting here next to him, as close as they were, it was impossible not to be reminded of just how deep her feelings for him ran. His presence had always had this effect on her, an electric undercurrent that made her skin tingle and her heart pound just a little harder. She stole a glance at him over the top of her book. He was engrossed in whatever he was reading, completely unaware of the thoughts swirling in her mind.
That’s what made it all so painful—he would never see her that way. She was just Y/N, his best mate, his confidant. The one person who was always there, but never the one he looked at with desire. She felt a knot tighten in her chest as she allowed herself, for just a moment, to imagine what it would be like if things were different. If she were someone else. If he saw her the way she saw him.
As if sensing her gaze, Harry suddenly looked up, catching her in the act. His lips twitched into a small, knowing smile, and he set his book down on the coffee table.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asked, his voice low, breaking the silence between them. His eyes locked onto hers, and the way he studied her made her feel exposed, as though he could read her thoughts without her saying a word. “You’ve been staring at that same page for ages.”
Y/N quickly dropped her gaze, closing the book to avoid his probing eyes. “It’s nothing,” she mumbled, though the heat rising to her cheeks gave her away.
He tilted his head, not buying it for a second. “Come on,” he coaxed, a teasing edge to his voice. “Spill it. I know you. You’ve got that look.”
She shifted uncomfortably, trying to laugh it off. “What look?”
“The one where you’re overthinking everything,” he said, leaning back against the couch, still watching her closely. His gaze softened. “Talk to me, Y/N. What’s going on?”
Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat as Harry’s green eyes bore into hers, his expression filled with gentle concern. She had always struggled to lie to him. Whenever he looked at her like that, like he truly cared, she felt like he could see right through her. The panic rose quickly, threatening to bubble over, and she knew she had to say something—anything—to steer the conversation away from the thoughts that were tangled up in her mind.
She blurted out the first thing that came to her. “My cousin’s getting married.”
Harry raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by the abrupt change of subject. “Which cousin?”
Y/N let out a long sigh, glad for the distraction, though the topic she’d chosen wasn’t much better. “The worst one. Out of the three, I mean. You know, the one who’s always got something to say about everything. Perfect life, perfect fiancé, perfect job… perfect everything.”
Harry’s expression softened into one of amused sympathy. He knew exactly the kind of family pressure Y/N was talking about. He stretched out his legs, making himself more comfortable, as if settling in for a story. “Ah, her. That sounds like fun,” he teased, his voice laced with sarcasm.
Y/N rolled her eyes, tucking her legs beneath her as she faced him. “It’s not just her. It’s the whole family. They’re all so excited, and for some reason, they’re all hell-bent on me bringing a date.” She threw her hands up in frustration. “I don’t even have a boyfriend, but everyone keeps asking if I’m bringing someone. They’re already assuming I’m going to show up with a ‘plus one,’ and I just… I don’t want to deal with the humiliation of telling them I’m still single. Again.”
Harry’s brow furrowed slightly as he listened, a small frown tugging at his lips. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked at her thoughtfully. “Y/N, you don’t owe anyone an explanation. If you don’t want to bring someone, then don’t. Your family’s expectations shouldn’t dictate your happiness.”
Y/N smiled weakly, appreciating the sentiment, but her heart was still heavy with the weight of the situation. “I know, but it’s just… hard. It’s like they see me as incomplete because I don’t have someone.” She let out a bitter laugh. “They don’t understand that I’m happy with my life. But at a wedding, it’s like a flashing neon sign that I’m alone.”
Y/N smiled weakly, appreciating the sentiment, but her heart was still heavy with the weight of the situation. “I know, but it’s just… hard. It’s like they see me as incomplete because I don’t have someone.” She let out a bitter laugh. “They don’t understand that I’m happy with my life. But at a wedding, it’s like a flashing neon sign that I’m alone.”
The room fell silent for a moment as Harry absorbed her words, his gaze softening even further. He opened his mouth, about to say something, but then paused, seemingly deep in thought.
Y/N bit her lip, realizing she was rambling, but it was easier to talk about this than the real issue she was trying to avoid. And with Harry sitting so close, his concern for her so palpable, it made her feel even more off-balance. Every time he cared, every time he listened so intently, it reminded her of how much she longed for something more than just friendship.
But that wasn’t an option. Not with him. So, she buried it all under the wedding invitation and the pressures from her family, hoping it would be enough to keep him from asking more.
Harry studied her for a long moment, eyes searching her face like he could sense there was something more she wasn’t saying. He tilted his head slightly, lips pressing together in that way he always did when he was thinking hard.
“Is that really why you’re freaking out?” he asked gently, his voice laced with quiet skepticism.
Y/N felt her stomach twist, the question catching her off guard. She hated how easily he could see through her, but she wasn’t about to crack. Not when it came to her deeper feelings. So, she nodded quickly, clutching onto the family wedding excuse like a lifeline. “Yes, it is. It’s a big issue, Harry. Every time I visit my family, it just… it tears me down a little more. They make me feel like I’m somehow falling behind because I don’t have someone. It’s exhausting.”
He sighed softly, his eyes softening with sympathy, though there was still a trace of doubt in his gaze. Without saying anything more, he leaned back against the couch and picked up his book again, his fingers absently running along the spine.
For a few minutes, silence fell between them, the crackling of the fire and the soft rustle of turning pages the only sounds filling the room. Y/N watched him out of the corner of her eye, heart still racing from the close call. She didn’t know what she’d do if he pushed further—if he managed to pry open the lid she’d been keeping on her feelings. She shifted in her seat, trying to focus on her book, but the words refused to make sense.
Then, just as she was beginning to lose herself in her own anxious thoughts, Harry broke the silence.
“I’ve got an easy solution,” he said suddenly, his voice calm and casual, like he hadn’t just spent several minutes in contemplative silence. He didn’t even look up from his book. “I’ll go with you.”
Y/N blinked, his words not quite registering at first. “What?”
He glanced over at her, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’ll be your date. To the wedding,” he clarified, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Problem solved.”
Her heart skipped a beat, her mind racing to catch up. “You… you’re serious?” She could hardly believe what she was hearing. Harry Styles, her best friend—and secret crush—offering to be her date to her cousin’s wedding?
“Of course,” he said, shrugging as if it were no big deal. “If it’ll make things easier for you, I’m in. I’ll go, smile for the family, and be the perfect distraction. You won’t have to deal with any awkward questions about being single.”
Y/N stared at him, stunned. He made it sound so simple, like it was no trouble at all. But for her, it was anything but simple. Having him at her side, pretending to be her date, while she tried to keep her feelings under control… It sounded like both a dream and a nightmare all at once.
She swallowed hard, trying to find her voice. “Harry, you don’t have to—”
“I want to,” he interrupted, closing his book and turning his full attention to her now. His gaze was steady, sincere. “You’re my best friend, Y/N. If this is stressing you out, let me help. I’d be happy to go with you.”
Her heart swelled at his words, warmth spreading through her chest at the thought of him being there, by her side, at a time when she felt most vulnerable. But at the same time, the reality of pretending—of standing next to him, feeling things she shouldn’t, knowing it was all just for show—made her feel dizzy.
“Are you sure?” she asked, her voice quieter now, almost unsure.
Harry’s smile widened into that familiar, mischievous grin. “Positive. And besides, who wouldn’t want to show off a date like me?” he teased, his tone light, but his eyes still holding that warm, comforting sincerity.
Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, her anxiety easing just a little. Maybe, just maybe, having Harry with her wouldn’t be so bad. It might even be the perfect distraction—from her family, and from her feelings. If she could keep them in check, that is.
“He’s going with you?!” Maddie’s voice echoed through the apartment, loud and full of disbelief.
Y/N, sitting cross-legged on the floor in her bedroom, groaned and yelled back, “I know!”
Maddie appeared in the doorway a second later, her eyes wide with shock and excitement. “Harry Styles—your best friend and international superstar—is going to a wedding with you. As your date. This is… this is insane!”
Y/N let out a half-laugh, half-sigh as she flopped back onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling. “Trust me, I’m still trying to process it.”
Maddie crossed her arms, leaning against the doorframe. “Okay, let’s go over the logistics because this is a lot to unpack. First of all, the wedding is a whole weekend, right?”
“Yeah,” Y/N muttered, sitting up and running a hand through her hair. “It’s in Edinburgh, so we’re going up on Friday, staying until Sunday. Two full days of family, dinners, receptions, and a ton of small talk.”
“And Harry knows this?” Maddie asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically.
Y/N bit her lip, her voice dropping to a quiet murmur. “No, not exactly.”
Maddie’s eyes widened even further. “Wait, so you haven’t told him it’s a whole weekend thing? What if he backs out when he realizes it’s not just a one-night event?”
Y/N sat up straighter, her anxiety returning in full force. “I mean, I hope he won’t. He offered so casually, but I didn’t get into all the details.” She winced, feeling a bit guilty for not being completely upfront. “It’s just... he said yes so easily, and I didn’t want to overwhelm him with everything all at once.”
Maddie shook her head, pacing the room in thought. “Okay, well, you’ve got to tell him. He’s going to need to know what he’s signing up for. The last thing you want is him backing out last minute.”
“I know,” Y/N agreed, sighing. “I’ll tell him tomorrow. I just… I really hope he doesn’t change his mind. It’s already going to be awkward enough dealing with my family, and having Harry there is the only thing keeping me sane.”
Maddie stopped pacing and turned to her with a mischievous smile. “Well, there’s something else we need to focus on.”
“What’s that?” Y/N asked, dreading the answer.
“Your outfits!” Maddie exclaimed, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “This is a wedding weekend in Edinburgh with Harry as your date. You need to look absolutely perfect every single day.”
Y/N groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Maddie, please don’t make this into a fashion show. I’m already freaking out as it is.”
Her roommate crossed the room and sat down on the bed beside her, nudging her playfully. “Listen, if you want your family to shut up about you being single, you’ve got to show up looking like the best version of yourself. And besides…” She shot her a knowing look. “It wouldn’t hurt for Harry to see you in a new light.”
Y/N peeked up at her through her fingers. “What do you mean?”
Maddie grinned. “Come on, Y/N. You’ve had a crush on him for as long as I’ve known you. Maybe this is the chance to finally turn his head, you know? If he’s going to be by your side all weekend, you might as well look stunning while you’re at it.”
Y/N’s heart fluttered at the thought, but she quickly shook her head. “Harry doesn’t see me that way, Mads. He’s going because he’s a good friend. That’s it.”
“Maybe. But maybe not,” Maddie said with a wink. “Either way, we’re going to make sure you look incredible. Now, where’s that suitcase of yours? We’ve got some planning to do.”
The next day, Y/N stood outside Harry’s house, a small bouquet of flowers in her hand. She smiled as she reached for the familiar key in her pocket, the one Harry had given her ages ago. She slipped it into the lock, the click of the door unlocking bringing a sense of comfort. Harry’s house had always felt like a second home to her—sometimes more of a home than her own apartment, if she was honest.
Walking inside, the familiar scent fresh linen greeted her, making her feel instantly at ease. She made her way into the kitchen, glancing around at the cozy space before setting the flowers down on the counter. After a quick search for a vase, she arranged them carefully, letting out a satisfied sigh once they were settled. The bright colors of the flowers added a little warmth to the room, something she liked doing whenever she visited.
“Harry?” she called out, already heading towards the back of the house and into the familiar hallway that led to his bedroom.
“Closet!” his voice echoed, slightly muffled, from somewhere in the bedroom.
She stepped inside, smiling to herself. His bedroom looked like it always did—neatly chaotic, with a mix of designer clothes and random bits of his life scattered about. But one thing caught her eye immediately: his Gucci suitcase, already lying open on the floor, ready to be packed.
He’s really going through with it, she thought, a mixture of excitement and nerves bubbling up inside her.
As she approached the closet, Harry emerged, fresh out of the shower, a towel slung low around his hips. His damp curls clung to his forehead, and water still glistened on his skin. He caught her eye and grinned.
“Didn’t hear you come in,” he said, toweling off his hair as he glanced down at the suitcase. “I figured I’d start getting things ready for this weekend. here we come.”
Y/N chuckled, leaning against the doorway of his closet. “You’re already ahead of me. I haven’t even started packing yet.”
Harry shot her a playful look. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you choose your outfits. You know I have opinions.”
Y/N rolled her eyes, her heart lightened by his teasing. But as she looked at him—standing there so casually, like this whole wedding weekend was no big deal—a knot formed in her chest. It was all starting to feel very real, and the idea of spending an entire weekend with him, pretending he was her date, was starting to feel overwhelming. Still, she couldn’t deny how good it felt to be in his presence, the one place where everything seemed a little less complicated.
Y/N lingered by the doorway of Harry’s closet, watching as he continued to dry his hair, the smell of his cologne mixing with the steam from his shower. She glanced again at the Gucci suitcase on the floor, neatly positioned and ready to be packed. A wave of guilt hit her. She hadn’t told him everything yet—about the wedding being an entire weekend event.
Clearing her throat, she shifted her weight. “So, uh, Harry… there’s something I need to mention about the wedding.”
Harry raised an eyebrow, still toweling his hair, his grin never faltering. “What’s that? Do I need to brush up on my dance moves?”
She let out a small laugh, then bit her lip. “It’s not just the wedding ceremony, you know. It’s kind of… a whole weekend thing.”
He stopped drying his hair, the towel resting on his shoulders as he turned to face her fully. “A whole weekend?”
Y/N nodded, her heart picking up its pace. “Yeah. It’s in Edinburgh, and there’s a dinner on Friday, the ceremony and reception on Saturday, and a brunch on Sunday. It’s like… a three-day event.”
For a moment, Harry just stared at her, blinking. His eyes searched her face, processing what she’d just said.
“Wait, so it’s a full-on wedding extravaganza?” he asked, his voice tinged with amusement.
Y/N nodded again, suddenly feeling sheepish. “Yeah, I should’ve mentioned that before. But I didn’t want to scare you off.”
Harry let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Scare me off? Y/N, I’m already committed to this. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” He tossed the towel aside and crossed the room, leaning casually against the wall beside her. “A weekend in Edinburgh with you? Honestly, that sounds like a good time.”
Y/N’s eyes flickered with relief, though a part of her was still nervous. “You sure? I mean, it’s a lot—my family, the pressure… all of it.”
Harry shrugged, giving her a reassuring smile. “I’ve done crazier things. Plus, I’m kind of looking forward to charming your family.” His grin widened, eyes sparkling. “So, when do we leave?”
Y/N smiled, her chest filling with warmth. He really wasn’t backing out. He was in this with her, and somehow, the weekend ahead didn’t seem so daunting anymore.
Y/N and Harry sat cross-legged on the floor of his living room, plates of Indian takeout spread across the coffee table. The comforting aroma of curry and naan filled the room as they half-watched How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days playing on the TV. They had seen it a million times, but it never got old—Harry always laughed at the same parts, and Y/N always teased him for knowing the lines better than she did.
As Y/N scooped up a bite of butter chicken with a piece of naan, she noticed Harry glancing at her with a mischievous look in his eyes. She raised an eyebrow, already suspicious. “What’s that look for?”
Harry grinned, leaning back against the couch, plate balanced on his lap. “I was just thinking about the wedding.”
“Please don’t remind me,” Y/N groaned, shaking her head. “I’m still processing the fact that you’re actually going.”
“Don’t worry, I’m still all in,” Harry assured her, nudging her playfully. “But I had a thought… Why don’t we drive to Edinburgh?”
Y/N blinked, lowering her fork. “Drive? Like, from here to Edinburgh? That’s over eight hours, H.”
“Exactly!” he said, his eyes lighting up like it was the best idea he’d ever had. “Think about it—if we drive, we have complete control. If things get weird at the wedding, we’ll have a getaway car. No waiting around for flights or relying on anyone. We can just leave whenever we want.”
Y/N gave him a skeptical look. “You’re planning our escape before we’ve even arrived?”
He shrugged, popping a piece of naan into his mouth. “I like to be prepared. And besides, it’s not just about the escape plan. We’d get a proper road trip! Snacks, music, random stops at those little roadside places—remember the last time we did a long drive?”
Y/N couldn’t help but smile at the memory. “Yeah, and you made us stop at every service station just to try the food.”
Harry’s grin widened. “Exactly! Imagine all the snacks we could pack—crisps, chocolate, samosas. And the music—oh, the music! I’ll make the ultimate road trip playlist. We’ll sing along the whole way, windows down, no stress.”
Y/N snorted, shaking her head. “You just want an excuse to sing loudly and off-key, don’t you?”
“Hey, I have excellent taste in road trip tunes,” he said, pointing a fork at her in mock offense. “Besides, don’t you think it’d be fun? Eight hours in the car, just us, no rush.”
She tilted her head, contemplating the idea for a moment. As much as she loved the thought of a carefree road trip with Harry, she was more focused on practicality. “Look, I get it. But it’s just… flying is so much quicker. We’ll be there in less than two hours, and we won’t be exhausted by the time we get there. We need our energy for my family and the whole wedding thing.”
Harry leaned back against the couch, pouting playfully. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”
She looked over at Harry, who was now munching on a piece of naan with an expectant grin on his face. He seemed to sense her change of heart and glanced up, eyebrows raised in question.
“You know,” Y/N said, breaking the comfortable silence, “Let’s do it!”.
Harry’s eyes widened in surprise and delight. “Really? Are you serious?”
Y/N nodded, a smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah, why not? It could be fun. And I guess having the car would be good for flexibility. If we need a quick escape or just want to explore a bit…”
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Author's note: Hello everyone! i hope you are all doing well! I haven't posted bc it has been an eventful last month. I moved apartments, i finished semester, I had finals, it was birthday, and I also traveled. However, everything is back in order! So, I am back!
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The tension in the villa exploded the moment Sophia made her choice, leaving Harry and Y/N standing at opposite sides of the fire pit, each looking as if the ground had been pulled from beneath them. The chime of Y/N’s phone only amplified the shock. Her hands trembled as she read the text aloud.
“Y/N, as you are now single, you are in jeopardy of leaving the villa. Your fate will be revealed tomorrow. #JeopardyOnTheHorizon #SingleAndSearching.”
Gasps echoed in the night air. Y/N’s voice wavered but didn’t crack, even as she sat back down on the bench, her head spinning. She wasn’t mad at Harry—this wasn’t his doing. But the shock of it all—the sudden shift, the possibility of leaving, the blatant disrespect—left her shaken to her core.
As soon as the recoupling ended, the villa erupted into chaos. Chloe was the first to march across the fire pit, her fury palpable as she got in Sophia’s face.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Chloe snarled, her voice echoing. “Seriously, what do you get out of this? You knew Harry was with Y/N. Everyone knew! What was the point? To make yourself look pathetic?”
Amber wasn’t far behind, crossing her arms and glaring. “Honestly, Sophia, was this your big plan? To play the villain? Because congrats, it worked.”
Sophia shrugged, her expression annoyingly calm. “It’s a game, isn’t it? Harry’s a free man, and I made my choice. Don’t be bitter because I’m playing it better.”
“Better?” Chloe’s voice rose. “You’ve literally just made an enemy out of every girl in this villa.”
Amber nodded sharply. “And every guy, for that matter. Good luck trying to make friends after this.”
From the boys’ side, Callum spoke up, his voice cold. “That was low, Sophia. Everyone can see through it. If you think Harry’s just going to fall into your lap, you’re deluded.”
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.
Author's note: Hey lovies ❤️ I hope you're all getting some rest and taking care of yourselves. If you had a great week, I’m so happy for you—and if it was a tough one, I’m really sorry. But hey, you made it through, and that counts for something. 💛
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The beauty room was quiet, the hum of fluorescent lights the only sound accompanying Y/N as she wiped away the remnants of her make-up. The day had been long and emotionally draining, her mind replaying every interaction, every glance, every word. Harry’s behaviour, or rather lack thereof, gnawed at her. She’d seen him laughing with Sophia earlier, their heads bent close as if sharing a secret, and the sight had felt like a knife twisting in her chest.
The door creaked open, and Y/N’s eyes flicked up to the mirror. Harry stood there, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his shorts, his usual confident demeanour replaced by something hesitant. She turned back to the mirror, focusing on her reflection as she continued wiping off her make-up.
“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.”
Y/N x Professor Harry Styles share a secret passion that could destroy them both. Crossing the line means risking everything.
Author's note: Hello! As you know Love Island is coming to an end. So, I decided to post the first part of the Crave just so none of you run out of reading material for this weekend after the last chapter is posted on Friday. Let me know what you think!
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The wooden doors of the lecture hall groaned softly as Y/N slipped inside, her movements quick but measured. She’d never been the type to enjoy being late—especially to his class—but today, her mind was elsewhere. She found a seat near the back, heart still fluttering from the hurried walk across campus.
Professor Harry Styles hadn’t started speaking yet, standing at the front of the room, quietly observing the room. His presence alone commanded attention—a stillness that felt more intense than the bustling energy of the students around him. Even from where Y/N sat, she could feel the weight of it.
She swallowed, her pulse thrumming beneath her skin as she pulled out her notebook, stealing a glance toward him. He didn’t seem to notice her entrance, his gaze fixed on something—or someone—else. Yet, something in the air made her feel as though he had seen her the moment she walked in. He always noticed.
Y/N shook off the thought and refocused, gripping her pen, trying to quiet the thoughts stirring in her mind. It had only been a week since that strange encounter in the library, where they had exchanged a few words—polite, distant, yet there was an undertone she couldn’t quite place.
Harry’s voice broke through the silence, low and deliberate. “Today’s topic is boundaries.”
Her breath caught. Of course, it would be.
He turned toward the whiteboard, writing the word in bold strokes. It was simple, and yet it felt heavy with meaning as the chalk scratched across the surface. Y/N shifted in her seat, wondering if he knew how that word lingered between them, unspoken.
The lecture carried on, but Y/N found it impossible to focus. Harry’s voice was calm and steady, the kind of voice that demanded you listen, that pulled you in even if you didn’t want to be drawn so close. She kept her gaze low, pretending to scribble notes, but every time his voice dipped into something more intense, she felt a pull in her chest.
Her eyes flicked up briefly, catching the way his hand moved across the desk, the strength in the veins of his forearms as he gestured toward the board. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing tanned skin, and Y/N had to force her gaze away before anyone noticed.
What bothered her most was how unaware he seemed of the effect he had. There was no smirk, no glance her way, no sign that he even remembered her as more than just another student. But that didn’t stop the feeling that coiled in her stomach every time they were in the same room.
When the class ended, Y/N was quick to gather her things, eager to escape the charged air of the lecture hall. She was almost at the door when she heard his voice again.
“Miss Y/L/N.”
She froze, heart racing. Slowly, she turned around, her hands clutching her bag strap a little too tightly. “Yes, Professor?”
Harry stood at the front of the room, still sorting through papers, but his tone was casual, indifferent even. “I’d like to discuss your last paper, if you have a moment.”
There was nothing strange about the request, nothing inappropriate about it. But her stomach twisted all the same.
She nodded and walked back down the aisle, each step heavier than the last. By the time she reached his desk, the room was empty, leaving only the two of them. Harry’s attention seemed to be fixed on the papers in front of him, his brow furrowed in concentration.
He looked up only briefly, his gaze flicking to hers before returning to the papers. “You’ve written well,” he began, his voice as measured as ever. “But I can tell your focus has been... divided lately.”
Y/N’s heart stuttered. Was it a critique? Or something else? She licked her lips nervously. “I’m sorry, I’ve just had a lot on my mind.”
Harry hummed softly, almost as if in thought, his eyes still on the paper. “Understandable,” he said, flipping a page. “But I’d hate to see your potential go unrealized.”
The statement hung between them, strangely intimate for what should have been a routine discussion. There was no accusation in his tone, nothing that suggested he had noticed more than just her academic performance. And yet, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that his words carried weight beyond their surface.
“I’ll do better,” she said, though her voice was softer than she intended.
Harry finally looked up again, his eyes meeting hers with a steady gaze that sent a chill down her spine. For a moment, she wondered if she was imagining it—the tension, the unspoken things between them. He seemed so composed, so unaffected, while her own heart raced in her chest.
“I’m sure you will,” he replied simply, his tone polite, neutral.
And just like that, the moment passed. Whatever she thought she might have seen in his gaze was gone, leaving her feeling foolish for reading too much into it. He turned his attention back to the papers, clearly dismissing her, and she let out a quiet breath, relieved and yet disappointed at the same time.
“Thank you, Professor,” she said softly before turning to leave, feeling his presence like a shadow behind her.
As she walked out of the room, her mind raced with questions. Had she misread him all along? Or was there something hidden beneath his calm exterior, something darker that he kept carefully veiled? She couldn’t be sure.
All she knew was that whatever it was between them—it was far from over.
Y/N’s footsteps echoed in the empty hallway, her mind buzzing with the memory of Harry’s gaze. She should have felt relieved that he hadn’t called her out for anything too specific, yet that brief exchange had left her unsettled.
Her phone buzzed, breaking her thoughts. She fished it out of her pocket, glancing at the screen: a message from her best friend, Liv.
"How was class? Any more moments with Mr. Unattainable?" Liv had a knack for teasing her about Harry, ever since Y/N had once, in a moment of weakness, mentioned how attractive he was.
Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn't help the small smile tugging at her lips. "Class was fine. No, stop exaggerating," she typed back quickly, though her fingers hesitated. There was no way she was about to confess how his voice had almost made her heart stop when he’d called her name.
The truth was, she didn’t understand it herself. She had no reason to be so affected by him—he was her professor, after all. Yet, ever since that first class, there had been something about Harry Styles that lingered with her long after the lecture ended. The quiet control he exuded, the way his words dripped with intellect and confidence, how he seemed perfectly oblivious to how his presence could command a room without effort.
She let out a frustrated sigh, tucking her phone away. This was ridiculous. She wasn’t some schoolgirl with a crush on her teacher. But she couldn’t deny the fact that when she thought about Harry, it wasn’t just admiration for his mind or his teaching methods. There was a physical awareness too, something magnetic that made her pulse quicken whenever he was near.
By the time Y/N made it to the campus café, her mind was still spinning with thoughts she shouldn’t be having. She grabbed a coffee, needing the warmth and caffeine to shake the lingering unease from her bones.
As she settled into a corner booth, opening her laptop to review her notes, her gaze kept drifting toward the window. She didn’t expect to see anyone familiar, but every once in a while, her thoughts circled back to him.
Was it wrong? Was it really just in her head? That gaze earlier—it had felt like something. Or was she reading too much into it, twisting normal interactions into something they weren’t? It didn’t help that Liv’s constant teasing about “Professor Dreamy” had planted ideas in her head she couldn’t quite shake.
Just then, a shadow moved across her table, and Y/N’s heart lurched into her throat. She looked up, eyes widening slightly in surprise.
Harry Styles stood before her, his expression unreadable.
"Mind if I join you?" His voice was smooth, yet his tone made it sound like more of a statement than a question.
Y/N’s pulse stuttered as she nodded, forcing herself to appear calm, even as her mind raced. What was he doing here? It was a large campus—he could’ve gone anywhere—but here he was, sliding into the seat across from her with an ease that both unsettled and intrigued her.
Harry set his coffee down and leaned back in the chair, his presence overwhelming even in this casual setting. His eyes, a deep shade of green, flicked to her laptop briefly before returning to hers, as if assessing something.
“You looked like you were in deep thought,” he remarked, a faint smile playing at the edge of his lips. It was a subtle observation, but his gaze lingered a fraction longer than necessary, making her feel exposed.
Y/N cleared her throat, trying to gather her thoughts. “Just catching up on notes,” she said, forcing a smile. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
Harry’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, but there was something about the way he leaned forward slightly that made her heart skip. “I frequent this place often,” he said simply. “Though I don’t usually run into my students outside of class.”
There it was again—that carefully controlled neutrality in his tone. She couldn’t tell if he was making small talk or implying something deeper. It was maddening.
“I guess it’s a coincidence,” Y/N replied, trying to keep her voice steady. But she could feel it—the undercurrent of tension pulling them closer, threading through the seemingly innocent conversation.
Harry raised an eyebrow, watching her with a quiet intensity. “Do you believe in coincidences?”
His question hung in the air between them, heavy with implication. Y/N opened her mouth to respond, but no words came. There was something about the way he was looking at her—like he was testing her, challenging her to acknowledge the unspoken tension that had been simmering ever since that first glance in class.
Before she could formulate an answer, Harry’s phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at it briefly, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face before he stood.
“Another time, perhaps,” he said smoothly, gathering his things. “I’ll see you in class, Miss Y/L/N.”
And just like that, he was gone, leaving Y/N sitting alone, her heart pounding and her mind whirling with questions. The conversation had been brief, but it was enough to set her on edge.
What did he mean by coincidences? Was there more to that question than she realized?
Y/N stared at the empty seat across from her, frustration and curiosity churning inside her. She had no idea what game Harry Styles was playing, or if there was even a game at all.
But something told her this wasn’t the last time their paths would cross outside the lecture hall.
Y/N sat in her apartment that evening, nervously adjusting her costume in front of the mirror. She and Liv had been planning to attend a Halloween party on campus for weeks, and Y/N had finally settled on a daring outfit: a sleek, black cat costume that hugged her curves in all the right places. The fitted bodysuit clung to her figure, the fabric shimmering slightly under the light, with a daringly low neckline that accentuated her collarbone and added a touch of allure.
The suit left her legs bare, the material stopping just below her hips, showcasing her smooth, toned thighs. She wore black heels that elongated her legs, making them appear endless and adding a sultry confidence to her stride. Each step felt powerful, her high heels clicking against the floor, a stark contrast to the soft fabric of her costume.
To complete the look, she adorned herself with a pair of playful cat ears and a thin tail that swayed behind her, giving her a playful edge. Y/N could see herself in the mirror, her reflection bold and unashamed. She felt good in her skin, caught up in the thrill of the night ahead—one filled with dancing, laughter, and maybe a little mischief.
The thought of running into Harry flickered briefly in her mind, but she brushed it aside, determined to enjoy the party without overthinking her attire. Tonight was about having fun and celebrating, not getting tangled up in complicated feelings.
“Are you ready yet?” Liv called from the living room, her voice slightly slurred from the pre-party drinks. “We’re going to be late!”
“Almost!” Y/N called back, taking one last look at herself. She felt powerful and fierce, ready to own the night.
“C’mon, I need you to approve of my costume!” Liv barged into the room, wearing a bright, revealing witch outfit complete with a feathered hat. She spun around dramatically, her long hair swaying. “What do you think? Am I hot or what?”
Y/N laughed, the tension easing a bit. “You look amazing! Just don’t make me drag you home” Referring to the multiple times that she had to carry her across campus back to their apartment.
Liv winked, grabbing her bag and tossing Y/N a mischievous grin. “No promises! Now let’s go, I want to dance!”
As they made their way to the party, the campus buzzed with excitement. Halloween decorations adorned the buildings, and students in various costumes milled about, laughter and music echoing in the cool night air. Y/N felt a thrill run through her as they approached the venue, a popular fraternity house that was known for its raucous parties.
On the way, they decided to take a shortcut through a quieter part of campus. That’s when Y/N spotted him.
Harry Styles emerged from the gym, a towel draped around his neck and wearing a loose fitted tank top that showcased his toned arms. His hair was slightly damp, and he looked effortlessly handsome—exuding the same confidence that had captivated her in class. Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, her earlier bravado instantly replaced by embarrassment.
“Shit, is that—?” Liv started, her voice slurring slightly as she squinted in the dim light.
Before Y/N could stop her, Liv straightened, her playful demeanor shining through the haze of her tipsiness. “Hey, Professor Styles!” she called out, a cheeky grin plastered on her face.
Y/N felt her cheeks heat up as Harry turned his gaze toward them, eyebrows raising in surprise. “Liv, Y/N,” he greeted, his tone friendly yet laced with curiosity. His eyes flickered over their costumes, and Y/N couldn’t tell if he was amused or shocked.
“Looks like you two are ready for a big night,” he said, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.
Y/N could feel her stomach twist with embarrassment, acutely aware of the way she was dressed. She glanced at Liv, who was practically bouncing on her feet, clearly emboldened by the drinks she’d had. “Yeah, just heading to the party! You should come by and join us!” Liv said, her words spilling out a little too quickly.
“Liv!” Y/N hissed, mortified. This was not the conversation she had envisioned. The last thing she wanted was for Harry to see her friend flirting like this.
Harry chuckled, the sound low and rich, and Y/N felt a mix of relief and frustration at the way it sent warmth through her. “I appreciate the invite, but I think I’ll pass,” he replied, his gaze still locked on Y/N, as if trying to gauge her reaction.
“C’mon, it’ll be fun! You could let loose for one night,” Liv pressed, tilting her head with a playful smile, completely oblivious to Y/N’s discomfort. “Besides, we’d love to see you in a costume!”
Harry shook his head, laughter dancing in his eyes. “I think I’m better off here, thanks. Maybe next year?”
Y/N felt like she might combust. Next year? As if they’d still be in the same orbit then. “Uh, right. Maybe,” she managed, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Yeah, you should really think about it,” Liv chimed in, clearly enjoying the banter. She nudged Y/N, a teasing sparkle in her eyes. “I mean, we’re all just trying to have a little fun, right?”
Harry’s gaze flicked back to Y/N, his expression softening slightly. “You’re right, fun is important. Just make sure you’re safe tonight.”
Y/N swallowed hard, struggling to keep her composure. The concern in his voice felt personal, like he genuinely cared about their well-being. “We will,” she promised, forcing a smile despite the heat flooding her cheeks.
“Well, I’ll leave you to your night. Enjoy yourselves,” he said, taking a step back.
As he turned to walk away, Liv leaned into Y/N, her eyes wide with excitement. “Did you see that? He was totally checking you out!”
“What? No!” Y/N protested, though her heart raced at the thought. “He was just being polite.”
“Polite? He was practically undressing you with his eyes! Come on, don’t act like you didn’t feel that!” Liv giggled, already pulling Y/N toward the party.
Y/N tried to shake off the feeling, but as they walked away, she glanced back at Harry, who was now disappearing into the shadows of the campus. The look he had given her lingered in her mind, an intoxicating blend of desire and danger.
The party loomed ahead, pulsing with music and laughter, but Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that this night was just the beginning.
As Y/N and Liv stepped into the party, the pulse of music hit them like a wave, vibrant and intoxicating. The room was filled with bodies dancing under dim, flickering lights, laughter and cheers blending into a thrilling cacophony. The atmosphere buzzed with energy, and Y/N felt herself being swept away, the earlier embarrassment fading as she embraced the night.
“Let’s get some drinks!” Liv shouted over the music, her eyes sparkling with excitement. They made their way to the makeshift bar, where red solo cups overflowed with punch and various alcoholic concoctions.
Y/N poured herself a drink, the sweet taste sliding down her throat with a comforting burn. She felt the warmth of the alcohol spreading through her, loosening her nerves. Maybe this was what she needed—a distraction, a chance to dance, to forget for a while.
As they moved through the crowd, Liv grabbed Y/N's hand and led her to the center of the room, where bodies swayed and mingled. The rhythm of the music thrummed through Y/N, and she found herself letting go, the beat pulling her into the moment.
But even as she danced, her mind kept drifting back to Harry. The way he had looked at her, the flicker of interest in his eyes—it made her heart race and her skin tingle in ways she didn’t fully understand. The tension between them was electric, but the reality of their roles—the professor and the student—loomed over her like a dark cloud.
She needed to shake off those thoughts. Just for tonight.
As if the universe was listening, a guy approached her, a confident grin spreading across his face. He wore a pirate costume, complete with a ruffled shirt and an eye patch that gave him a playful charm. “What’s a pretty cat like you doing here all alone?” he asked, leaning in slightly, his voice a low drawl.
Y/N raised an eyebrow, suppressing a smile. “Not alone, I’m with my friend,” she gestured to Liv, who was laughing with a group nearby, completely engrossed in her own conversation.
“Well, I’m glad you’re not alone,” he said, his eyes glinting with mischief. “I’m Shawn, by the way.”
“Y/N,” she replied, a hint of flirtation in her voice. “So, you’re a pirate, huh? Got any treasure to share?”
Shawn chuckled, stepping closer, the heat between them palpable. “Oh, I’ve got plenty of treasure. Just depends on what you’re looking for.” He leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. “What are you in the mood for tonight?”
Y/N felt a spark of excitement, a welcome distraction from her thoughts of Harry. She wanted to forget the lingering glances and the magnetic pull she felt toward him. “I’m looking for something fun,” she replied, her confidence bolstered by the drink.
“Fun, huh? I can definitely help with that,” Shawn said, his gaze lingering on her legs, appreciation evident in his eyes. “Why don’t we grab a drink and see where the night takes us?”
Y/N hesitated for just a moment, then nodded, eager for the distraction. She needed to step away from her complex feelings and embrace the night. “Sure, let’s do it.”
They made their way back to the bar, Shawn’s easy charm making her laugh as he recounted silly stories about past Halloween parties. She found herself genuinely enjoying his company, the flirtation light and carefree, a pleasant contrast to the weight of her feelings for Harry.
As the night went on, they danced and shared drinks, the music enveloping them in a cocoon of excitement. Y/N allowed herself to get lost in the moment, to revel in the attention Shawn offered her. It was fun, thrilling even, to flirt with someone who wasn’t complicated or off-limits.
Yet, even in the midst of the revelry, she felt that familiar twinge in her chest, a reminder of Harry's presence and the tension that crackled between them. The deeper she got into her flirtation with Shawn, the more she realized she was trying to fill a void that Harry had created—one that was proving harder to ignore than she had anticipated
Harry, a private billionaire and devoted father, hires Y/N as his son's nanny. Her kindness stirs unexpected feelings. Will love overcome his guarded life, a jealous girlfriend, and the mystery of Oliver's mother?
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Harry's frustration had reached its peak during the carefully planned trip. The purpose behind the getaway was more significant than anyone could fathom. Before Y/N entered his life, settling down was a notion he rarely entertained. The carefree days of bachelorhood had held their charm, but they were now distant memories. The separation from Y/N during those months felt like a prolonged agony, each day an ache for her voice, her vibrant personality, and the comforting texture of her skin.
Their future together held the promise of endless possibilities, and Harry had envisioned the perfect moment to ask the most important question of his life. Yet, every attempt was thwarted by the incessant interference of the bothersome couple. Frustration and disappointment mingled in Harry's gaze as he looked at Y/N.
"Seems like it's getting late," Harry declared abruptly, interrupting the tiresome, trivial conversations with the couple. The desire for some intimate, uninterrupted time alone with Y/N in the sanctuary of their room was becoming irresistible.
The resort room welcomed Harry and Y/N back with a soft glow from the bedside lamps. The rhythmic sound of the waves outside created a serene ambiance, a stark contrast to the frustration simmering within Harry. He needed a moment to collect himself.
“I am going to have a bath” Harry admitted, running a hand through his tousled hair. The night, initially filled with anticipation, had been repeatedly hijacked, leaving him on edge.
“Can I join you?” Y/N said, sensing his agitation, gave him a reassuring smile.
Harry nodded appreciatively and disappeared into the bathroom. Once inside, he decided that a relaxing bath might help him shake off the irritation that clung to him like a persistent shadow.
As the water filled the tub, Harry glanced at his reflection in the mirror. He was a mix of emotions — frustration, anticipation, and a touch of disappointment. The sparkle of the engagement ring nestled in his pocket seemed to mock him, a reminder of the proposal that kept slipping away.
The warm water embraced him as he eased into the bath, closing his eyes to block out the world outside. The subtle aroma of bath salts filled the air, creating a sanctuary within the confines of the bathroom.
The gentle lull of the waves failed to drown out the intrusive thoughts that swirled in Harry's mind. He replayed the moments when he had attempted to ask the life-altering question, only to be thwarted by Paige and David's unwelcome appearances.
As Harry soaked in the warmth, the tension began to dissolve. He thought about Y/N waiting just beyond the bathroom door, the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Determination flickered in his eyes.
As the warm water embraced him, Harry found solace in the soothing confines of the bathtub. The flickering candlelight added a soft glow to the bathroom, creating an intimate atmosphere. Lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice Y/N quietly entering the room until she stood at the edge of the bathtub.
“Hi” She smiled as she took off her clothes and slip into the hot water on the other side of the bathtub.
Y/N gracefully slipped into the water, settling in front of him. The warmth of the bath and the closeness of their bodies created an unspoken connection. Harry welcomed the comfort of her presence, feeling the tension melt away.
Y/N traced circles on the water's surface with her fingertips. "What's been bothering you, honey? You seemed a bit off tonight.”
Harry sighed, grateful for the understanding in her eyes. "I had plans for tonight, plans that kept getting interrupted. I wanted everything to be perfect, especially for you.”
Y/N's gaze softened. "Everything is perfect. We're here, together, and that's what matters.” She caressed his leg under the water.
He nodded, appreciating her perspective. "You're right, love. It's just... I wanted tonight to be special, and it felt like every time I tried, something got in the way.”
In the soft glow of candlelight, Harry's eyes locked with Y/N's, and a tender smile graced his lips. The warm water enveloped them, creating a cocoon of intimacy. As he reached out for her hand, his voice, filled with emotion, began to paint a scene of love.
"Y/N," he whispered, the words carrying the weight of all the love he felt. "From the moment I met you, my life changed. You brought colors to my world that I didn't know existed. You're my anchor, my partner in every adventure, and the love of my life.”
Y/N's eyes shimmered with understanding and affection as she held his gaze, captivated by the sincerity in his voice.
"And, well, I had this whole grand plan for tonight," Harry continued, a touch of vulnerability in his tone. "I wanted it to be perfect, because you deserve nothing less.”
He took a deep breath, his fingers gently caressing hers. "Y/N, will you make every day brighter, every moment richer, and every future better by being my wife? Will you marry me?"
As Harry spoke the question that had been lingering in his heart, the room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for Y/N's response. A tear slid down her cheek, carrying with it the depth of her emotions.
"Yes, Harry," she whispered, her voice a symphony of love. "A thousand times, yes."
Harry's hand reached out of the water, grabbing his pants. He fumbled for a moment before pulling out a small red box. The Cartier logo adorned the elegant packaging, and Y/N's eyes widened with surprise.
Y/N's breath caught, and her eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Harry..."
He looked at her with a hopeful smile. "Say you'll be mine forever?"
Y/N's heart swelled with emotion. "Yes”
The room was filled with the warmth of their love as Harry slid the ring onto Y/N's finger, sealing their promise in the intimate glow of the candlelit bathroom. The imperfections of the night faded away, leaving only the perfect moment they had created together.
Once the sun-kissed days in Anguilla had faded into cherished memories, Harry and Y/N returned to the States, hand in hand, ready to embark on the next chapter of their journey. The warmth of the Caribbean sun may have been replaced by the crisp air of their hometown, but the glow of their shared experiences lingered.
The townhouse, a charming abode with a history of its own, stood welcomingly as they approached. With keys in hand, they stepped inside, greeted by the echoes of empty rooms and the promise of turning this space into a home.
Over the next few days, Harry and Y/N dove into the process of making the townhouse their own. Boxes were unpacked, revealing memories and mementos from their time in Anguilla—a seashell collected on a morning walk, a framed photo capturing a sunset, and the scent of ocean air lingering in their clothes.
In between arranging furniture and choosing color schemes, the couple found moments to steal kisses in the midst of chaos, laughter bubbling up as they navigated the unfamiliar terrain of assembling furniture.
"I never thought I'd be packing up and moving once more," Y/N sighed, meticulously cleaning the picture frames before carefully arranging them on the mantle above the fireplace in the living room.
Harry, carrying yet another box into the kitchen, flashed a reassuring smile. "This truly is the last time, love. I promise." The process had begun upstairs in the bedrooms and gradually made its way to the ground floor. The rhythmic tasks of unpacking and settling into a new home felt both familiar and promising, a shared endeavor for the couple embarking on this final move.
"Do you think our collection is enough to fill the shelves in the office library?" Y/N questioned, securing the last unpacked box in the living room.
Harry grinned, glancing at the myriad of books around them. "I hope so. But if not, I know you won't hesitate to fill them up with more from the bookstore for your own pleasure." He had embraced her love for reading, gradually turning into a reader himself.
"Feeling hungry?" Harry sprawled on the couch. "I'm starving."
"Thai?" Y/N suggested with a chuckle as Harry reached for his phone. "What's so funny?"
Harry grinned, dialing the restaurant. "Nothing. I just know you've been on a Thai kick since you got pregnant."
The doorbell rang, drawing Y/N's attention. She swung the door wide open, and there stood Michael, Violet, and Alessandro.
"Well, what are you doing here?" Y/N exclaimed, her face lighting up. She pulled them into a group hug.
Alessandro's eyes fell on Y/N's pregnant belly. "You're glowing, really suits you," he said with a warm smile, planting a kiss on her cheek. “You look beautiful.”
"Come in!" Y/N ushered them inside, the atmosphere instantly filling with laughter and the comfort of cherished friends. “Welcome to our new home”.
"This place is gorgeous," Violet commented as they admired the townhouse. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm alright. Very tired, but happy."
"No way!" Violet's exclamation caught the attention of both men, and she grabbed Y/N's hand to get a better look at the ring.
"Harry proposed?!" Alessandro's disbelief resonated in his voice. He never imagined Harry settling down and creating a family. "Styles!" he called out, making his way toward the back of the house where the living room was situated. "Congratulations, stronzo!" Alessandro grinned, pulling him into a tight hug.
"What brings you here?" Harry asked, still processing the engagement.
"A baby on the way, a new house, and now you're engaged?! Who are you!" Alessandro chuckled, teasingly expressing his shock at the whirlwind of changes in Harry's life.
"Harry, I didn't know you had it in you," he teased, Michael joined the conversation.
"Well, it seems life has its surprises," Harry replied, glancing at Y/N with a fond smile.
"Let's celebrate!" Violet suggested. "I brought a bottle of champagne. This calls for a toast!"
As they gathered in the living room, Alessandro couldn't help but express his genuine happiness for the couple. "You know, Y/N, I always knew Harry was head over heels for you. It was just a matter of time."
Y/N blushed, appreciating the kind words. "I'm lucky to have him and to have all of you”
The champagne cork popped, and they all raised their glasses for a toast. "To love, happiness, and the future Mr. and Mrs. Styles!" Violet exclaimed.
The clinking of glasses filled the room, marking a joyous moment in the midst of unpacked boxes and the promise of a new chapter in their lives.
Later that evening, as they enjoyed their Thai takeout, Alessandro turned to Harry. "So, when's the big day, mate?"
Harry exchanged a glance with Y/N, and a smile played on his lips. "We haven't decided yet, but we'll let you know. You might have to travel across the ocean for a wedding."
Alessandro chuckled. "I'd cross the ocean for you, Styles. Just let me know when and where."
As the night unfolded with laughter, stories, and shared memories, the new townhouse echoed with the warmth of friendship and the anticipation of a bright future.
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Apocalyptic AU | Enemies to reluctant allies | Slow burn tension 🌫️
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Her name is gone. Her past, a blank.
She woke up barefoot on a broken street, surrounded by silence and blood.
The man who finds her—Harry—claims not to know her. But there’s something in his eyes… something too careful.
He says she’s lucky to be alive.
He says The Strain doesn’t leave survivors.
But if that’s true…
Why does she know the smell of his cabin?
Why does he keep looking at her like he’s remembering too much?
In a world ravaged by silence and infection, trust is a weapon.
And she doesn’t know yet if he’s going to save her…
Or if he already broke her once.
🔗 Read the full story + exclusive content only on Patreon: Ashes between us part 1
