#mean!harry

Day Off

The house was already alive beneath her. Sharp voices floated up through the floorboards—her mother's brisk orders, her sister’s light laughter, the clatter of servants preparing trunks and parcels for the journey ahead. Another maid had mercifully taken the morning shift, sparing Margaret from having to sweep hearths and draw bathwater before she could even think to dress. A small grace, rare enough not to question.

She slipped from her thin mattress, wincing as the creaky bedframe gave a low, protesting groan that seemed far too loud in the stillness of early morning. Her toes met the chill of the attic’s wooden floor, the boards worn smooth with age and dust. The air smelled faintly of moth-eaten linen, old stone, and something else, perhaps something forgotten, like the lingering ghost of candle smoke from nights long past. Here, at the highest point of Briarbourne Hall, it always felt like time had stopped moving.

Margaret gathered the dress she had laid carefully at the foot of her bed the night before, a patchwork of hand-me-downs and salvaged fabrics, lovingly sewn together in the hours no one cared to notice she was missing. The soft square neckline complimented the frill at the bottom. She pressed the bundle of cloth to her chest and tiptoed across the attic, careful to avoid the loudest of the floorboards, until she reached the narrow, rickety stair that led down to the servants’ entrance.

The back door groaned on its hinges as she slipped outside into the pale breath of dawn. The world was still half-asleep; the gardens were blanketed in mist, and the stones of the courtyard were slick with dew. Margaret padded barefoot across the cold, uneven stones to where a fresh bucket of water and clean cloths had been left at the corner by the kitchen maids.

Kneeling beside the bucket, she set her dress safely atop a dry patch of stone and braced herself. The water was bitterly cold, biting at her skin like needles. She splashed her face, her neck, her arms, scrubbing quickly with a coarse linen cloth. The roughness scratched at her skin, leaving it tingling and pink, but it washed away the heavy fog of sleep from her mind.

The world around her stirred to life: the low hum of distant conversation, the rhythmic clink of metal as the lantern lighters worked the hillsides beyond the Hall. She could just make out their tiny figures moving against the horizon, their soft voices carrying on the crisp air as they hooked the last of the night’s lanterns onto tall wooden posts. First light was creeping steadily over Edevane now, spilling pale gold across the fields, catching in the lace of fog still tangled in the hedgerows.

Margaret hurriedly dried herself off, her fingers stiff with cold, and slipped into her homemade dress. It hung loose around her slender frame, the seams slightly crooked where she had sewn them by candlelight. She tied the thin, worn sash around her waist and smoothed the wrinkled fabric with trembling hands, willing it to look presentable—though she knew it never truly would.

For a moment, she lingered outside, drawing in the fresh, damp scent of the morning; the earth, the moss, the faint trace of woodsmoke from distant cottages. She closed her eyes and let herself feel it: the fleeting quiet, the freedom of being unseen.

But there was no time to waste. She turned back to the Hall, pulling open the back door once more, and crept up the narrow servants’ stair to her attic. The air grew thinner with each step, the ceiling slanting sharply until she had to duck to avoid the low beams. The attic was dim and cramped, but it was hers, and that counted for something.

Crossing the tiny room in a few strides, she knelt by the small, battered trunk tucked beneath the eaves. It was her secret trove, the only corner of the world she could call her own. Carefully, she lifted the lid. Inside lay a neatly folded mended shawl, a handful of worn, dog-eared books, and a journal bound in cracked brown leather.

Sitting on the edge of her frail bed, Margaret let the worn journal settle in her lap, the cracked leather cool beneath her fingertips. She opened it carefully, mindful of the fragile spine, and a thin photograph, tucked between the first pages, fluttered free. It drifted down like a falling leaf and landed soundlessly against her skirt.

She stared at it for a moment before picking it up between her trembling fingers.

The photograph was aged nearly to sepia, its edges curling inward, browned and delicate from the slow burn of time. Yet the image it held was stubbornly clear, stubbornly sharp enough to sting. It showed her family standing tall before the pristine façade of Briarbourne Hall in its younger days, when the stone was still new, the paint still bright, the gardens lush and untamed.

There was Nora at the center, poised and regal even then, her hand resting lightly on Thomas’s arm. Thomas stood stiff-backed and unsmiling, a man already heavy with the expectations of legacy. Beatrice was a bright flare beside them, her hair in glossy ringlets, her small face beaming with the easy assurance of someone destined to be adored.

And there—off to the side, almost out of frame—was Margaret.

Three years old, dwarfed by the grandeur around her, her hair a wild tangle that caught the light like spun gold. Her small hand was curled tightly around her mother’s, her round cheeks flushed from play. She looked up toward Nora, wide-eyed, expectant, clinging.

A memory unspooled itself, as fragile as the breath of winter across glass.

They had been running, she and Beatrice, through the tall grasses in the field behind the house, where the earth still smelled sweet and alive and the wind tangled itself in their hair. Margaret remembered the feeling of the grass brushing against her legs, the sun hot on her back, her heart hammering in the way only a child's could—with no fear, only delight.

Beatrice, in a white muslin dress, ran ahead with all the effortless grace that would one day turn heads in every ballroom. Margaret stumbled after her, skirts hiked up awkwardly in both fists, her laughter bubbling uncontrollably from her lips. She could still hear it—the high, shrill giggle of uncontained joy.

Nora had stood by the great oak tree at the edge of the field, skirts gathered in one hand, her other hand shading her eyes as she watched them. There had been no sternness then, no sharp tongue or cutting glance. Only a laugh; light, unguarded, almost girlish.

"Margie, slow down before you topple!" her mother had called, her voice bright with laughter, the smile stretching across her usually severe mouth like a miracle.

‘Margie.’ The name hung in Margaret’s mind like a ghost.

It was a name she hadn’t heard in years, one that now seemed to belong to someone else entirely, a girl who had once been cherished, if only fleetingly. A girl who had once been seen.

The memory trembled like a flame in a breeze, threatening to go out. It felt brittle now, foreign, as though it had been pressed too hard against the waking reality of her life and had cracked under the strain. A dream she wasn't sure had ever truly belonged to her.

Margaret touched the photograph with aching gentleness, her thumb brushing the faded faces. She half-feared that if she looked too long, they might vanish altogether—this brief, golden sliver of a past that had long since been buried beneath years of cold glances and clipped orders.

She closed her eyes and held the photo against her chest, letting herself feel, for just a moment, the ghost of the warmth that had once been hers.

“Margaret Jones!”

Her father's voice, sharp, commanding, and utterly devoid of affection, sliced through the thin attic door like the crack of a whip.

She startled, the photograph slipping from her fingers and landing soundlessly on the worn floorboards. Her heart kicked painfully against her ribs. Fingers fumbling, she gathered the fragile photograph and journal, tucking them hastily back into the battered trunk as if hiding away a guilty secret.

Below, the house had roused into a flurry of activity. She could hear the heavy thud of trunks being carried down the stairs, the shuffle of hurried feet on stone floors, the clipped farewells of servants they would leave behind. First light was brushing up against the horizon now, gilding the attic windowpanes in a thin, cold silver. The carriage would not wait for her.

Margaret smoothed her dress with quick, trembling hands, feeling the rough weave catch against her calloused fingers. She squared her shoulders, drawing in a deep breath to steady herself, and slipped out of the attic.

The air grew colder as she descended the narrow staircase, the grandness of Briarbourne Hall pressing down with every step. The once-warm home of her childhood now loomed with the icy stiffness of a house grown used to her silence.

In the main hall, Beatrice spun before a tall, gilt-framed mirror, her new satin traveling cloak flaring out around her in glossy ripples, catching the light like water. She laughed—a light, tinkling sound rehearsed for the ears of courtiers—and Nora stood nearby, adjusting a fold in her daughter's sleeve, her face soft with approval.

Thomas stood apart, checking the time against his polished pocket watch, the glint of gold catching the edge of his cold gaze. He looked up briefly, his mouth thinning in irritation at the sight of Margaret before snapping the watch closed with a click of finality.

"You lot look lovely," Margaret offered into the charged air, her voice small, careful, the words as practiced as a prayer she no longer believed in. She kept her slim fingers clasped behind her, thumbs fiddling in anticipation. It had been months since Margaret had left the palace past the gates, besides for a usual gather for produce at the markets.

Beatrice turned just enough to catch Margaret's eye, her lips curling into a slow, triumphant smirk that didn’t reach her coldly shining eyes. Nora gave only the faintest of nods in acknowledgment, her fingers already back at work adjusting the angle of Beatrice’s bonnet, ensuring every ribbon and bow sat with effortless perfection.

Margaret bowed her head, murmuring another hollow compliment she knew they would not hear, and accepted the shawl a waiting maid thrust into her arms with mechanical indifference. She wrapped it around her shoulders, grateful at least for the meager shield against the creeping morning chill.

Within moments, they were ushered out into the courtyard. The air was sharp and biting, carrying the fresh scent of damp earth and woodsmoke. Margaret flinched as the cold kissed her cheeks, but she kept her expression still, trained. Before them loomed the family carriage, grand and heavy, its deep blue panels freshly polished and emblazoned with the Fitzgerald crest—a bear rampant, roaring in silent pride.

Margaret climbed in after her parents, tucking herself into the farthest corner of the plush interior. She folded her hands neatly in her lap, her fingers tightening until her knuckles turned white as the horses stamped and frothed impatiently at the bit, their breath pluming in the frosty air.

The carriage gave a lurch, the wheels groaning as they began their long journey northward. Margaret kept her eyes on the road ahead, refusing to look back at Briarbourne Hall, its chimneys silhouetted against the awakening sky.

The path stretched out before them—four long hours through misted hills, along roads that wound through shadowed woods where light struggled to reach. Alderham was waiting at the end of it, a place Margaret had only ever heard of in careful murmurs and wary warnings, a place of power and cold stone and royal blood.

She pressed her palm against the windowpane, watching as the mist thickened, swallowing the world in a pale gray hush.

Somewhere beyond that veil of fog, Wrosley Keep loomed, patient and immovable.

•─────⋅☾⊱♰⊰☽⋅─────•

The great hall of Wrosley Keep stood as still as a tomb, thick with a silence that settled deep into the stone walls. Only the occasional crack of the hearth fire gnawing at its last stubborn logs offered any sign of life, the sound snapping sharply in the heavy air. Morning light, dim and shrouded by Alderham’s eternal mist, slanted weakly through the narrow, arched windows, painting long, wan stripes across the cold flagstone floor. The lingering fog outside made even the bold banners on the high walls seem muted, their colors dulled as if bleached by centuries of waiting.

At the end of the long black oak dining table sat King Harry Styles, solitary at the head, his figure carved out in stark lines against the throne-like chair he occupied. His posture was ramrod straight, every inch the king he had been raised to be, shoulders squared beneath the heavy cut of his dark jacket. The deep blue fabric, trimmed with subtle silver embroidery along the cuffs and collar, caught the faintest gleam of the firelight. As he meticulously adjusted the cuffs at his wrist, the small movements spoke volumes—rituals of control, of composure sharpened to a blade’s edge.

His hair, dark and thick, was neatly combed back from his brow, not a strand out of place. It gleamed faintly in the low light, the rich, natural wave of it tamed into order, like everything else about him.

Across the vast, yawning stretch of table—too long for comfort, too cold for true conversation—his twin brother, Edward, slouched in his chair with a boneless ease that seemed almost deliberately disrespectful. His ankles were crossed lazily beneath the table, boots scuffed with the dust of some unspoken misadventure, and his shoulders slumped as if the very notion of formality was a burden too great to bear.

A young maid, pale, slight, and visibly trembling, moved with silent urgency as she set down the last of the polished silver cutlery. Her hands fluttered like nervous birds. She offered a low, swift curtsey, her head bowed so low the limp ties of her apron brushed the floor. Without daring a glance at either brother, she backed out of the hall, the soft scrape of the door closing behind her like the final note of a funeral march.

Then Edward moved, quick and careless. He seized the metal lid covering his breakfast and tore it free with a theatrical flourish. It clattered noisily across the gleaming surface of the table, spinning and skipping like a tossed shield until it collided with a silver pitcher at the center with a metallic bang.

The echo rolled through the cavernous hall.

Harry’s jaw tightened so sharply a muscle leapt in his cheek, the only betrayal of his irritation. His hand paused mid-motion, fork hovering just above his plate.

"Must you behave like an ungoverned hound?" Harry said without lifting his gaze, each syllable clipped and wrapped in the kind of low, withering disdain that could wither even the boldest spirit.

Edward only chuckled, a deep, lazy sound, utterly unfazed by the rebuke. He speared a thick slab of meat with a single, cavalier jab of his fork, dragging it toward himself with a scraping sound that made Harry’s teeth grind.

"Morning to you as well, brother," Edward said around a mouthful of food, his voice warm with amusement and irreverence.

Harry returned to his meal with the same rigid, silent discipline with which he did everything else. His knife sliced through the ham with clean, efficient strokes, movements so precise they might have been measured with a ruler. Every bite was deliberate, not a crumb or smear of sauce left as evidence of indulgence.

In sharp contrast, Edward wielded his utensils with the gracelessness of a street brawler—switching hands without care, sawing into bread and meat with the same dull knife, elbows planted firmly on the table as he leaned forward like a boy who had never been taught a single table manner. He lounged and sprawled and ate without shame, his dark hair tied back haphazardly in a leather cord, the ends curling rebelliously against the nape of his neck.

After several minutes of taut silence, broken only by the muted scrape of silver against china and the distant whisper of the fire, Edward flung his fork down with a clatter that rang out across the cavernous hall. He leaned back in his chair with an exaggerated sigh, the legs of it creaking beneath his lazy sprawl. His long hair, having worked itself free from its earlier binding, spilled in unruly waves over the crumpled shoulders of his shirt, the loose strands catching the weak light like dulled copper. His collar was undone at the throat, exposing the smooth, bronzed skin of his collarbone, and his sleeves were shoved up past his elbows in a careless, half-drunk sort of fashion.

"So," Edward drawled, his voice rough with sleep and sarcasm, "the illustrious Fitzgeralds are due to arrive today?"

Harry did not immediately respond. He merely gave the smallest nod, so slight it might have been mistaken for the tilt of a shadow, his attention never once wavering from the careful, measured cuts he made into his meal. His movements were slow and deliberate, each slice of his knife a whisper against the plate.

Edward shifted, reaching for the nearest loaf of bread. He tore at it absently with long, calloused fingers, shredding the crust as a hawk might rip into a hare, his posture slouched and feral despite the grandeur around him. The pieces fell onto his plate in a rough pile, forgotten as quickly as they were made.

"What’s the fuss about, then?" Edward said, tossing a scrap of bread into his mouth and speaking around it. "Bit far to travel just for tea and pleasantries, isn’t it?"

Harry’s hand paused. He set his utensils down with almost surgical care, the faint clink of polished silver on fine china disturbingly soft. Without a word, he lifted his gaze; cool, commanding, and edged with warning.

"They need our help," he said simply, each word clipped and weighted, his tone stripped of any warmth or sympathy.

Edward snorted into his goblet, the low, derisive sound ricocheting off the stone walls. He tossed another piece of bread onto his plate with a bored flick of his fingers.

"Help?" he echoed, his mouth curling into a smirk. "Why would we waste our time bailing out a family with more pride than sense?"

Harry offered no immediate reply. Instead, he resumed his meal with mechanical precision, methodically cutting into another slice of ham. The blade of his knife bit through the tender meat with a quiet, clean hiss, like the sound of a sword being drawn from its sheath.

"It is not a matter of want," Harry said at last, his voice low and implacable, like the slow shifting of stone beneath a mountain. "It is a matter of duty."

Edward tilted his head, studying his twin as if he were some curious artifact, grinning as though Harry’s words were the punchline of a particularly dry jest.

"Ah yes," Edward said, leaning forward with a theatrical air. "Our sacred duty. To lift the burdens of lesser houses. How terribly noble of us."

For the first time, a flicker of real irritation crossed Harry’s face. His fingers tightened minutely around the handle of his knife, the knuckles whitening, but he gave no other sign that Edward’s mockery had landed. He finished the bite he had prepared with methodical grace, then reached for the linen cloth beside his plate, dabbing the corner of his mouth with restrained, practiced elegance.

"You will remember your place when they arrive," Harry said after a beat, each syllable sliding out slow and deliberate, like the grinding turn of a rusted key in a stubborn lock.

Edward only grinned wider, raising his goblet in a mock salute that dripped insolence. His hair fell untamed around his face, the wild strands catching the muted gray light and turning it to glinting fire.

Harry’s eyes narrowed, sharpening into a cutting stare that could have chilled molten iron.

"And for God's sake," Harry said, the words bitten off as coldly as the northern cliffs outside, "bind your damned hair. You look like some half-bred poet loitering at court doors."

Edward laughed a low, reckless sound that spilled far too loudly into the solemn vastness of the great hall. It was the laugh of someone who cared little for consequences, who had built a life on poking at the sharp edges of his brother’s patience.

Still, under the weight of Harry’s blistering gaze, Edward eventually dragged a hand through his hair with exaggerated compliance, shoving the tangled mass back from his face and tying it off with a rough leather thong he fished from his pocket. His movements were slow, deliberate, mocking.

"You do love your little spectacles of propriety," Edward mused, voice full of half-hearted admiration as he slouched even farther down in his chair, the picture of unruliness disguised as nonchalance.

"And you," Harry said, returning to his meal with a cool finality, "love humiliating yourself."

With that, the room lapsed once more into a brittle, strained silence, broken only by the steady scrape of knife against plate, the low pop of the hearth, and the distant, hollow thrum of the banners outside Wrosley Keep flapping against the oncoming storm.

The Fitzgeralds would arrive by afternoon. And Harry intended to be ready.

•─────⋅☾⊱♰⊰☽⋅─────•

The carriage rattled over the uneven roads that wound through the countryside of Edevane, the early morning sun now fully risen and casting pale gold across the fields. Dust and the sweet, heavy scent of wet earth kicked up in their wake. The horses' hooves clattered rhythmically against the stone-laid roads, a steady drumbeat beneath the low chatter of birds darting from the hedgerows.

Margaret sat tightly beside her sister, her shoulder brushing against the overstuffed skirts of Beatrice’s traveling gown. The silk and tulle ballooned against the cramped quarters, forcing Margaret to shrink inward all the more. She folded her hands primly in her lap, her patched dress of stitched scraps looking even sadder beside her sister’s fine lavender silks, the fabric catching the light like mist.

Their parents sat across from them, poised and straight-backed despite the jostling of the carriage wheels. Lord Thomas Fitzgerald barely moved a muscle, his gloved hands resting on an ivory-handled cane, while Lady Nora kept herself busied with small, constant adjustments—pulling her shawl closer, smoothing the folds of her gown, glancing sharply now and then toward Beatrice.

"Remember," Nora said sharply, her voice slicing through the confined air, "head high. Shoulders back. Speak with care and caution. You are not merely our daughter today, you are the future face of this family."

Beatrice gave a demure nod, twirling the end of one pale glove between her fingers with a casual grace that was well-practiced.

Margaret said nothing. She pressed her forehead lightly against the cool windowpane, letting her gaze blur over the endless roll of green and gold hills, the shadowed woods beyond them. Occasionally, a village boy or a weary farmer would pause to watch the passing carriage, hats tugged low over their brows, but Margaret hardly saw them. She let the rhythm of the horses, the creak of the wheels, the distant shushing of the bushes along the roadside lull her into a quiet fog.

"How grand it shall be," Beatrice said, breaking the stillness with a voice touched by barely restrained excitement. "To show my face properly this time. To be seen not as a child, but as the next heir. Imagine it… the future of Fitzgerald resting in my hands."

She smiled, the kind of smile that was all white teeth and ambition hidden behind a curtain of charm.

Lady Nora offered her daughter a thin, pleased smile in return. "You have been groomed for this, Beatrice. Do not forget it. And should fortune favor us..." She leaned slightly forward, voice dropping low and intent, "you may well have the opportunity to become Harry Styles’ missus."

At this, Beatrice's cheeks pinked with barely concealed glee. Margaret sat still, her gaze dropping to her hands folded tightly in her lap.

"The more the brothers, moreso Harry, favor us," Nora continued briskly, "the better our standing. We require their allegiance as much as they require the appearance of unity. Do not embarrass us. And do not think for a moment they will forgive carelessness."

Thomas grunted in vague agreement, his eyes still trained out the window.

A sudden tap of fingers against the carriage wall snapped Margaret back to attention.

"And you," Lady Nora said sharply, her steely gaze fixing on Margaret like a hawk's on a mouse. "You will speak only if you are spoken to. When you greet the brothers, you will curtsy politely and say nothing more unless addressed."

Margaret turned her head, sitting straighter, folding her patched skirts beneath her with aching care.

"Yes, my lady," she murmured, her voice low, nearly lost beneath the clatter of hooves.

"You will stand behind us," Nora continued, voice crisp. "You will not interfere. You will not embarrass yourself, or us. Should you be asked to leave, you will do so without hesitation."

Thomas said nothing. He never did when it came to Margaret. His gaze remained pinned out the opposite window, as though she were merely another piece of luggage making the journey.

Margaret bowed her head obediently, feeling the familiar flush of shame rise up the back of her neck. Her palms, folded tightly in her lap, left small damp prints against the fabric of her skirt.

"Of course, mother," she whispered, offering a curt nod.

Beatrice gave a small, satisfied smirk and returned to adjusting the lace cuffs at her wrists, as if the matter were settled beyond all dispute.

The carriage jostled sharply over a rut, and Margaret’s head knocked lightly against the wooden frame of the window. She hardly flinched. She only turned her face back toward the glass, watching the misty hills of Alderham grow nearer with each lurching turn of the wheels.

The air seemed to grow colder the farther north they traveled, the fields giving way to long stretches of moorland, where the wind bent the grasses low and dark clouds loomed distantly along the horizon. Somewhere ahead, hidden among the hills and cliffs, lay Wrosley Keep—the seat of the House of Styles.

Margaret pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders, but it did little to chase away the chill creeping into her bones.

•─────⋅☾⊱♰⊰☽⋅─────•

The long hall of the north wing was chilled with the breath of the early morning fog, a low mist pressing against the tall windows like ghostly fingers. Beyond the glass, the fields of Alderham stretched out in a pale, colorless sprawl, the sun straining through the mist in gauzy ribbons of gold, as if the world itself was still waking, hesitant to embrace the new day.

Harry Styles stood in stillness at the window, one gloved hand resting lightly on the cold stone ledge, his eyes lost in the view that had become so familiar it barely registered anymore. His reflection, sharp and princely, stared back at him through the pale glass, the contours of his face sharpened by the dim light. His dark blue coat, cut sharply across his broad shoulders, swept neatly to the tops of his polished black boots, the fabric rich and heavy, like the weight of his title. A brooch bearing the House of Styles sigil, a lion crowned with ivy, clipped his heavy velvet cloak at the throat, glimmering faintly under the low sun. Beneath the cloak, a crisp white cravat was tied precisely at his collar, the folds symmetrical and flawless. His black waistcoat fit snug against his chest, the fabric stitched with faint embroidery in thread so dark it was barely visible unless caught in the right light, a detail most would miss but one that only added to the meticulous perfection of his appearance.

A pocket watch gleamed in his hand, the silver casing flashing briefly as he thumbed open the lid and checked the time. They were due any moment now.

The Fitzgeralds.

Their meeting had been arranged through a careful back-and-forth of handwritten letters, sealed with too much wax, and couched in the kind of formalities that Harry found irksome but unavoidable. The need for this meeting was not one born of mutual respect or kinship, but necessity. The Fitzgeralds needed money after the unfortunate, very public collapse of a portion of their estate wealth. It had become a scandal, one that could not be ignored, especially given how they had once been among the most influential families in the kingdom.

Harry, urged by Edward’s strange, persistent prodding, had agreed to this... display of generosity. At first, it had seemed like nothing more than an act of diplomacy, an arrangement to maintain the delicate balance of power between noble houses. But Edward had insisted, his voice heavy with persuasive charm, that this could be more, much more. Pity, Edward had argued, was not weakness if wielded properly. It was power: the power to bestow favor, to raise up those who could not stand on their own, and in doing so, show the kingdom that King Harry Styles was not just a ruler but a savior.

The thought of it left a bitter taste in Harry's mouth. It was so very... calculated. So very Edward. He had always been the one to see power in places where others saw only weakness, to turn the very act of charity into a tool of dominance. And Harry, always the more cautious, had reluctantly agreed. There was no real danger in extending a hand to the Fitzgeralds. They would remain beneath him, as all others did. Their presence at Wrosley Keep was a show, nothing more—proof of his strength disguised as kindness, as benevolence.

The thought lingered in his mind, cold and steady, until a sharp voice echoed down the hall, dragging him from his thoughts.

"Your Majesty."

The voice was unmistakable. Edward.

Harry didn’t bother to turn, his expression already sliding into a mask of polite restraint.

Edward emerged from the west wing archway, his wild hair now tamed into a neat bun tied with a slim ribbon of red silk at the crown of his head. He wore a white shirt with billowing sleeves tucked into a black waistcoat, silver buttons gleaming, and fitted dark trousers tucked into knee-high riding boots. There was a rakish elegance about him, like a man pretending at courtly behavior but unable, or unwilling, to hide the scoundrel underneath.

"You’re late," Harry’s lips tightened, the words slipping out like the snap of a drawn bowstring. His hand flexed once around the smooth casing of the pocket watch before he snapped the lid shut with a sharp click and tucked it back into the inner pocket of his waistcoat. The movement was crisp, exacting, as if even small gestures could not afford to be careless.

With a slow, practiced stillness, he turned toward the direction of the voice, his frame rigid beneath the heavy drape of his cloak. His face, honed into an expression of distant resolve, betrayed none of the irritation that simmered low beneath his skin.

Edward grinned in response, wide and unbothered, his stance a study in irreverence. His dark cloak hung open and loose at his sides, the finer points of his attire rumpled with a careless charm that somehow only made him look more princely, not less.

"I’m early by my own clock," Edward said lightly, voice lilting with amusement as he strolled forward, hands tucked lazily behind his back.

Harry’s eyes flickered once, a brief roll of temper he was too well-trained to fully show. "You don’t have a clock," he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to Edward, as he brushed an invisible crease from the sleeve of his coat and adjusted the cuffs with slow, deliberate precision.

"All the more reason I’m never wrong," Edward replied with a shrug, his voice rich with self-satisfaction. He came to stand beside Harry, their twin reflections caught faintly in the dim glass of the window—two halves of the same whole, yet impossibly different.

The hall stretched wide around them, a cavern of stone and echo, lined with suits of armor that glinted dully in the thin, reluctant light. Tapestries bearing the ancient crest of their house stirred slightly from the draft seeping through the cracks in the stone walls. Every sound, the scrape of a heel, the breath of the fog beyond the windows, seemed amplified by the vast emptiness.

Harry exhaled slowly through his nose, the breath controlled, tempered, as he turned his gaze toward the distant outline of the main gates, barely visible through the thick white gauze of mist that clung to the outer courtyard. The carriages would be there soon, he knew. The sound of wheels grinding over gravel, the snort of impatient horses, the flutter of banners—he could almost hear it already, ghosting through the cold air.

Without looking at Edward, Harry lifted one hand, a sharp, commanding gesture, and called out, "Open the gates. They’ll arrive shortly."

His words cracked across the space like a whip. Down the hall, the guards straightened at attention, the polished steel of their armor flashing briefly in the dim light. With practiced efficiency, they bowed low, the motion deep and synchronized, before sweeping away toward the outer doors with the hollow thud of boots against stone and the low, rhythmic clank of armor plates shifting.

The brothers remained where they stood, silent as sentinels.

For a moment, there was nothing but the hush of the empty hall, thick with waiting, and the soft, ceaseless groan of the wind pressing against the high windows. Somewhere farther off, the faint metallic moan of the gate mechanisms starting to turn echoed up through the stone like the slow stirring of some great beast waking from slumber.

Harry watched without moving, his posture a portrait of patience sharpened into a weapon. Edward, beside him, rocked back slightly on his heels, humming a soft, tuneless sound under his breath, as if the moment's gravity did not touch him at all.

As Edward rocked idly on his heels, the soles of his boots made the faintest creak against the flagstones. He tilted his head, casting a sidelong glance at Harry, who stood rigid as a drawn sword beside him.

"Tell me again why we’re offering a lifeline to a family that couldn’t even keep their coffers guarded?" Edward asked, his voice low, coaxing, almost playful.

Harry’s jaw tightened, a muscle feathering beneath the skin as he remained unmoving, his gaze locked out toward the mist-veiled road. The fog lay thick and heavy, muting the edges of the world beyond the gates into little more than ghostly outlines.

"Because it is our duty," Harry said at last, his tone clipped and cool as a blade's edge. "A king does not merely conquer. He uplifts, when it suits him."

His words held the weight of a rehearsed lesson, something he had long ago carved into himself with careful precision. Yet even now, the bitterness laced subtly through his voice, a reminder that duty rarely tasted sweet.

Edward smirked, slow and crooked, the kind of smile meant to provoke. "Sounds like you’re going soft," he drawled, the corners of his mouth twitching with barely concealed mischief.

In a single, fluid motion, Harry turned to face him. His cloak snapped behind him with the sharp crack of heavy velvet slicing the cold air. The movement was so sudden, so forceful, that Edward instinctively straightened, the lazy smirk lingering but his posture subtly less mocking.

Harry’s glare pinned him where he stood; cold, searing, and honed with the precision of a dagger’s thrust.

"Say that again at court," Harry said, his voice low enough to be a warning, "and see how fast you find yourself posted to the borderlands."

The threat, though spoken softly, hit like a slap. The borderlands, windswept, treacherous, and crawling with unrest, were not where one went to bask in favor. It was where inconvenient men were sent to fade into obscurity, or die.

Edward raised his hands in an exaggerated gesture of surrender, the chain at his wrist glinting faintly as it caught the dim light. Laughter flickered in his dark eyes, the easy, reckless kind that had always marked him as Harry’s greatest frustration, and perhaps his only true equal.

"As you say, Your Majesty," Edward teased, sketching an irreverent half-bow that was far too casual to be respectful. His tone danced on the edge of mockery, but there was an acknowledgment buried beneath it, a deference neither of them would ever admit aloud.

Harry said nothing in return. Instead, he rolled his shoulders back beneath the heavy drape of his cloak, adjusting the set of it until it fell in precise, commanding folds. His gloved hands smoothed down the front of his coat, each movement methodical, controlled.

Without another word, the two of them turned and began to move in measured strides down the long hall toward the main entrance. Their boots struck the stone floor in a steady rhythm, echoing faintly through the cavernous space.

The air between them, though outwardly casual, thrummed with an electric tension—the constant, unspoken current that ran deep between twin brothers who had been raised together yet shaped by the crown to walk entirely different paths.

Outside, the ancient iron gates had begun to groan open, the sound deep and grating, like the yawning of some slumbering beast. Mist coiled greedily through the widening gap, spilling over the gravel like thick smoke from an unseen fire.

From beyond the wall of fog came the soft, rhythmic crunch of hooves meeting gravel, steady and deliberate.

The horses slowed, their breath misting the cold air in great silver plumes. A black carriage, lacquered to a mirror shine and bearing the Fitzgerald family crest, emerged slowly from the mist and drew to a halt before the steps of Wrosley Keep.

“So you’re free then?” 

“Yeah, I should be.” she says with a cute smile, excited that Harry’s hinting at doing something special together. “Why?”

He chuckles. “Do you even know what next Tuesday is?”

She furrows her brows at him, still smiling, but a bit confused. “Um…” she pulls out her phone and opens up her calendar. “Next tuesday… the 14th of February…” her breath catches in her throat and she looks up at him with round, soft eyes. “Oh.”

His eyes are warm as he laughs, crinkling softly in the corners. She’s adorable, the way she looks up at him with such wide, surprised eyes, looking like he just asked her to marry him when he literally only brought up valentines day. It makes his heart melt, his sweet, precious girlfriend, so easily excited and happy. Like a little bundle of sunshine lying right in his arms. 

For her entire life, she’s always been alone on Valentine’s day. She’s never had someone buy her flowers or take her out for dinner on that special day… she’s usually just at home, by herself, studying or doing laundry as if it were any other day of the year. She’s spent so many years ignoring the fact that it was even a holiday… that she totally forgot that it was coming up this month. 

But Harry remembered. 

“Can I take you out, baby? Will you be my valentine?”

Her heart flutters as Harry whispers to her softly, looking into his eyes and just drowning in the adoration that fills them. His eyes are always so warm, so loving and kind, communicating so much to her without having to say anything. It overwhelms her, how wonderful and perfect he is. She hides herself in his chest, whining softly. He’s the sweetest in the world and it makes her want to cry. 

Harry laughs, and y/n can feel the deep vibrations rumbling through his chest. “Why’re you hiding?” he asks, the smile evident in his voice as he smooths a palm over her hair. 

“You’re perfect,” she whines, burying herself deeper into his neck. She never in a million years thought that she’d be lucky enough to have such an amazing boyfriend. A kind, sweet, handsome boyfriend who planned special things for valentines day, who coddled her and kissed her and took care of her so sweetly. 

She loves him. She’s bursting with it and it takes everything in her not to say it out loud. The three words have been on the tip of her tongue for weeks now, slowly growing more and more prominent in the forefront of her mind. It’s so hard for her to just not say, especially when he does all these sweet things.

He kisses her hair and wraps both of his arms around her, letting her hide in his chest even though he wants nothing more than to see her pretty eyes. “Just want t’make you happy baby,” he says quietly. 

She lifts her head and asks him with a shy smile, “What are we gonna do?”

He kisses the tip of her nose. “It’s a surprise.”

+++

After her classes on Tuesday, she rushes home and hops in the shower for a solid hour. She does her full body shower routine, deep conditions her hair and puts on a face mask so that she’s feeling nice and pampered. She’s planning on getting all dolled up tonight – she’s gonna do her make-up all nice and style her hair, wear a pretty dress and heels that she only busts out twice a year.

As a busy college student, she doesn’t really get the chance to make herself feel pretty. She’s genuinely so caught up with school and work all the time that she barely has an extra 10 minutes to do her makeup or pick a nice outfit in the mornings. She usually rolls out of bed and goes to class in her comfiest sweatshirt and jeans, with minimal makeup and her hair thrown up so that it’s out of her face while she’s studying.

That’s why these dates with Harry are always such a treat for her! He always plans them on days when he knows that she’s not busy… never during her stressful midterms weeks or when she has a long shift at the restaurant. He makes sure that he can treat her to a nice night after she’s done cramming for her physics midterm, so that she can really relax and enjoy herself. 

With no homework or upcoming exams, she has all night to get ready and feel pretty. Then, around seven-ish, Harry texts her that he’s on the way to pick her up. 

She puts on a coat and dabs her lips with a light layer of gloss, staring at herself in the mirror and taking a deep breath. Her heart flutters in her chest as she heads out the door, nervous to see Harry… not in a bad way, more-so a romantic, jittery, I-can’t-wait-to-kiss-my-hot-boyfriend way. 

Harry’s shiny black car stands out like a sore thumb in front of her crappy college apartment, big and expensive and an object of envy to any of the broke college kids who walk past. She rushes down and sees Harry standing out of the car, leaning against the passenger's side door. He smiles at her, that hot half smile that makes his cheek dimple. 

He’s dressed in a dark teal suit, with white stitching around the wrists and under the lapels. Underneath it, he wears a silvery blue silk button down, which he’s left unbuttoned enough to show off the beautiful butterfly on his stomach. His hard rings glimmer on his fingers as he waves at her, and as she walks towards him, she finds a delicate pearl necklace also wrapped around his neck. 

When she reaches him, he rests a hand on her hip and cradles her jaw with the other hand. “Baby,” he murmurs, flickering his eyes all over her face, “you look so pretty.” He leans down and kisses her softly, her sticky gloss transferring onto his lips as they pucker, and he hums at the sweet taste of it. When he pulls off from the kiss, his lips shine prettily with the shimmer of her gloss. She giggles and wipes it off with her thumb. 

“I love this suit,” she whispers, smoothing her hands over the expensive fabric. The silk feels soft under her palms, thin enough so that she can feel the hard ridges of his abdomen twitch as she gracefully dances her fingers across the material. Her eyes flicker over the dainty jewelry he wears, fingers coming up to toy with the cross hanging from his neck and trace the tiny pearls on his collarbones. The heads of his swallows peek out from under his shirt, and she swallows thickly. 

Her boyfriend is… crazy hot. His hair is swirled messily atop his head, a stray curl falling into his eyes, and his stubble… god, his stubble. She kisses him again, holding his face, his facial hair scratching against her palms deliciously. She loves the way it feels against her skin, ticklish against her soft cheeks. She doesn’t want to stop kissing him in front of his car, doesn’t want to stop feeling his stubble or his large palms on the curve of her waist, but he pulls away with a cocky smirk on his pink lips. “C’mon puppy, don’t get too excited just yet.” 

He opens the car door for her and holds a hand out to help her into the car like a true gentleman, but she hesitates to climb in. When Harry looks at what she’s looking at, he lets out a breathy laugh. “Oh,” he chuckles, picking up the bouquet of flowers that he’d left on the passenger's seat. “Forgot t’give you these.” He smiles shyly, the slightest hint of a blush growing on his cheeks as he gives her the bundle of pink and white flowers. 

She melts right then and there, turning around with heart eyes. “Thank you,” she says with wide eyes. She goes to give him another kiss, but Harry dodges it by putting a thumb to her lips, knowing that if she gets on his lips they’ll be standing in front of his car and making out for another three minutes. 

“No more kissing, puppy,” he says, patting her ass and urging her into her seat. “Don’t wanna be late to our reservation.” 

+++

Y/n looks around in awe as Harry leads them through the beautiful vineyard. Harry’s brought them to a restaurant, y/n doesn’t know where, but by the looks of it… it’s expensive. Their table is outdoors, on a patio that overlooks miles and miles of grape vines. The patio itself is covered by the green plants, climbing up the rails of the fence and curling over the patio roof over them. The plants are lined with fairy lights, a soft, romantic ambiance that’s accompanied by the gentle hum of the other customers at the restaurant. 

Harry pulls out her chair for her, then takes a seat across from her. Their table is set up beautifully, with a single rose sitting in a vase as the centerpiece, surrounded by tea candles that burn softly. 

“Harry,” she whispers, still looking around and taking it all in, “this place is so pretty.” 

He smiles proudly. “One of my friends owns it,” he says, grabbing his napkin and draping it across his lap. “We went to culinary school together.” 

Y/n copies him, happy to be here but a little out of place. She’s just a college kid, she doesn’t really go to fancy restaurants… so she needs Harry to hold her hand a bit and tell her what to order. “What kind of food do they have here?” she says, confused that she hasn’t been given a menu yet.

“S’not the food we’re here for, s’the wine,” he explains with a soft smile.

Her mouth rounds out in a soft o, and she looks around, understanding the whole aesthetic. The vineyard, the wine glasses, the wall of wine bottles that they walked past… obviously this place is a winery. 

“Excited to try some wine? Get a little educated?” he teases. She’s reminded of how the first time she went over to his apartment and he cooked for her, he’d brought out wine for her and she’d admitted that she didn’t know anything about wine. 

Harry, being the sophisticated chef he is, is some sort of wine connoisseur who manages to pick out wines that y/n actually likes, since she usually finds them to be bitter and dull.

She’d rather have a shot of tequila and get drunk quickly instead of having to sip on some yucky wine. But drinking wine with Harry is always fun, and she’s excited for whatever he’s got planned. He has good taste and she has no doubt she’s gonna love everything they try tonight. 

+++

“Harryyy,” y/n giggles, tugging at the lapels of his suit. She’s leaning all of her weight into him, arms wrapped around his neck in a clingy way. Harry wraps an arm around her waist, trying to hold her steady as he chuckles softly to himself. She is such a lightweight.

During the wine tasting, their waiter brought out four different types of wine for them to try, each served with a different meal. The first was a wine meant to pair well with their appetizer of fancy french cheese and fruit, the second a palate cleanser, the third a deep red wine served with their pasta dish, and the final one a sweet dessert wine that y/n really liked. All of those glasses, especially that last one, have made y/n tipsy and super clingy. She’s busy suckling a love mark.

“Baby, c’mon, we gotta go,” he chuckles, trying to coax her out of his neck where she’s busy suckling a love mark.

She bites down on his skin, then presses a soft kiss over the mark she made at the base of his throat. “You look so hot in this suit,” she murmurs, gasping softly in his ear as his grip on her hip tightens. Holding onto him tightly, she feels his biceps bulging under his suit as he tries to guide her discreetly out of the restaurant and into the car. Feeling how strong and muscled he is… mmm it makes her feel things. She leans in for another kiss to his jaw, then bites down on his earlobe seductively.

“Puppy…” he warns, voice low and daunting. “S’not the time f’that.” 

She trails a hand down his chest, teasing at the buckle of his belt, “But I want you daddy.” 

His jaw clenches and he tries not to react, looking around to make sure that nobody’s paying attention to how dangerously close y/n’s fingers are getting to his crotch. Luckily, they’re the only two standing outside of the winery entrance, but he still grabs her wandering hands and stops them from teasing him any further. Holding both of her wrists in front of her in one of his hands, he looks down at her wide, dreamy eyes. She bites her lip playfully and blinks up at him, feigning innocence. 

“Need you to behave,” he coos, the hand not holding her wrists coming up to thumb at her bottom lip. “If you’re good… then I have a surprise for you at home.”

Her eyes widen excitedly. “What is it?” she asks breathlessly.

“S’a surprise,” he says again, eyes glimmering teasingly. He loves his tipsy girlfriend, so sweet and easily excited like a little puppy. He just needs to get them home without her trying to strip him in public. “Can you do that for daddy? Be a good girl until we get home?”

She nods eagerly. 

“Good,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss her lips softly, like a little treat for her obedience. She looks up at him with these wide, dreamy eyes, and it makes Harry smile to himself. His little overexcited, easy to please puppy. 

“Now,” he smooths a hand over her hair, looking down at her with a soft smile. “Need to go say hi to Leo before we leave, do you want to come with me?”

She nods sweetly, on her best behavior. 

“No funny business, m’kay?” he warns. “Or else you're in for it when we get home.” 

+++

“Will you pour me a glass too?” y/n asks sweetly, sitting patiently on Harry’s couch as he uncorks the new bottle of wine. 

Leo, Harry’s old culinary school friend who owned the vineyard, had gifted them a bottle of the expensive dessert wine that y/n had loved so much as a thank you for coming to try his restaurant. This was perfect, as Harry, who hadn’t drank that much since he was gonna drive the two of them home, was ready to really indulge in the wine that he’d only taken a sip of at dinner. 

Y/n, despite already being tipsy from her four glasses of wine, is insistent on having another glass. The wine was just so yummy and sweet, with the aroma of berries and chocolate, it barely felt like she was drinking wine!

“I think you’ve had enough, puppy,” Harry says, pouring only one glass. If she has any more wine, she won’t be sober enough to even open the gifts he has for her. 

She pouts petulantly, “Who are you to tell me how much wine I can drink?”

He chuckles, beyond amused by her silly antics. She’s so cute when she’s drunk. “How about we just share this one puppy?” he tries to ration, “Won’t that be easier?”

She mulls it over, and remembers how sexy it was last time when he fed her wine from his glass. “Fine,” she sighs, leaning into him when he takes a seat next to her on the couch. The thought of sharing a glass with him and getting to suck the remnants off of his wine stained lips is the only thing that makes her agree. 

From behind his back, Harry reveals a small, Tiffany blue box. Y/n’s eyes widen and her heart stutters. “Harry,” she says, sitting up straight as he presents her with the gift. “Is this for me?”

He nods. “Open it,” he says with a soft dimple in his cheek.

She takes the box from him with wide eyes. “I didn’t know we were doing gifts,” she says with a pout. “I didn’t get you anything.” 

“Didn’t want you t’get me anything, baby,” he murmurs, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Just saw it and thought of you. Valentine’s day was just an excuse for me t’give it to you.” 

She takes the small box from him and opens it gently, as though she’s afraid of breaking it. Inside is a delicate, heart shaped pendant on a dainty chain, resting softly atop the pillowy satin interior of the box. She traces over the soft detailing on the small pendant, in awe. Harry, thankful, has good taste, and hasn’t gotten her an obnoxiously large or colorful piece of jewelry. No, this necklace is dainty and subtle, just the way she likes, and as cheesy as the heart shaped pendant is… it makes her chest grow warm with love.

Harry’s large fingers pluck the necklace out of its box, and toy with the pendant for a second. The heart opens up, and reveals a picture of the two of them. “Look, it’s a locket,” he says proudly, showing her the tiny picture hidden in the heart of the pendant. She gasps and holds the pendant up to her face. The picture he’s chosen is one of her favorites, from one of their dates in the park when she’d randomly asked an elderly woman near them to take a picture of herself and Harry. 

The two of them don’t have many pictures together, in full honesty, just because they’re often just spending time with each other and don’t have any reason to take pictures. But that day, there was just something that made her want to remember the way she was feeling. In the picture, Harry stands behind her with his arms wrapped around her shoulders. Y/n holds onto his forearms, giving a huge, cheesy smile to the camera while Harry gives a kiss to her cheek.

This perfect moment in time, captured and stored in this heart shaped locket that she could wear right on top of her own heart… it makes her lower lip wobble and her eyes start to tear up. “Harry,” she barely manages to whisper around the thickness in her throat.

Harry’s quick to put the wine glass onto the coffee table in front of him as soon as he sees the tears. “Sweetheart?” he’s confused as she climbs into his lap, settling herself on his thighs and burying her face in his neck.

“I love you,” she sniffles into his chest, her tears rolling down her cheeks silently. “I love you so much. You’re the best, you’re so special to me, I love you.” This entire valentines day has made her so happy, and the fact that she’s tipsy on wine certainly doesn’t help her control over emotions. 

He lets out a chuckle that's a mixed sigh of relief, “Oh, sweetheart.” His hands smooth over her hair, and he pulls her up so that she’s no longer hiding in his neck and he can see her teary eyes. “I love you, you know I do,” he says, rubbing his thumb under her eyes and wiping away her tears. “My sweet girl, I love you more than you know.” 

She sniffles, and more tears come rolling down her face. “You do?” 

“F’course, m’love. Love seeing you, love being with you.” He kisses her cheek. “Please don’t cry, precious,” he whispers, “it hurts me. Don’t want t’see you crying.” 

“S-sorry.” She tries to gain control over her emotions, but every time she looks into Harry’s eyes and sees the warmth and adoration pouring from them, a new round of tears comes. “Harry, I love you,” she says again, holding onto his shirt to really make her point. “Wanted to tell you for so long, I-I love you so much. M’so glad you love me,” she sobs.

“Oh baby, you’re gonna make me start crying too,” he coos, running his thumb over her red bitten lips. “Can I put the necklace on for you? V’been wanting to see it on ever since I got it for you.”

She nods, sitting back and letting the last of her tears fall. Moving her hair out of the way, she bares her neck to him so that he can clasp the dainty chain at the nape of her neck. The heart shaped pendant rests delicately atop her chest, right below her collarbones and only a few inches away from her beating heart. She looks down at the necklace, playing with the locket and clicking it open to stare at the sweet picture inside.

“I love it,” she mumbles, letting it fall back down on her chest so that she can wrap her arms around Harry once more. 

He kisses her, “I love you.”

+++

After the tears, comes lots of wine. 

Harry genuinely finds it impossible to say no to y/n when she asks for a sip from his glass, especially when she climbs on his lap and blinks up at him so prettily. “Please?” she asks, resting her hands on his chest and watching as he sips from the glass. She bites her lip, watching as his tongue darts out to lick the remnants of the cherry wine off of his lips. 

“Y’sure you can handle more, baby?” he teases, his thumb tugging her lip out from between her teeth and watching it bounce back into place. His eyes flicker down to where his locket sits prettily atop her chest. This was his girl, sitting in his lap with his heart hanging around her neck. He looks back up at her, and she’s staring at him–puppy eyes and all–begging for a sip of the sweet wine. “Not sure a little girl like you should be having so much wine...” 

“M’not a little girl!” she grumbles, though she pouts like a little baby. 

He hums, amused, pressing small, wet kisses up the column of her throat. She tries to be mad at Harry’s teasing, eyebrows furrowed with an upset frown planted on her lips, but she can’t help the whine that bubbles from her throat when Harry licks and sucks at her neck so seductively. He whispers against her skin, “you think you deserve it?” 

“I-I do,” she barely manages to whimper out. 

“Let’s see then,” he murmurs, bringing the glass up to her lips. One of his large palms rests on her hip, holding her steady while his thumb draws soothing circles against the bare skin of her thigh. Her head is spinning from Harry’s constant teasing, and her mouth is dry from the way she was panting while Harry was kissing up her throat. The wine is a welcome refreshment, the sweet, aromatic liquid trickling into her mouth slowly as Harry feeds it to her. Her eyes flutter shut as she swallows. She feels Harry move underneath her hips and tries to sneakily get one last sip in before he pulls away the wine glass… but she ends up choking as Harry’s fingers graze against her clit.

She turns her head away, coughing harshly, clearing the wine that had snuck into her wind pipes and using the back of her hand to wipe away the wine that had sputtered out of her mouth. “Oh, sweetheart,” Harry pouts, mockingly, “you’ve made a mess.” She tries to glare at him, but can’t as another round of coughs takes over. He pats her back soothingly as she clears her throat some more, his thumb wiping away the tears that escape the corner of her eyes. 

“You see?” he says when she’s breathing properly again. “Daddy was right. You’re just a messy little baby. Y’need daddy to take care of you.”

“You’re mean,” she sniffles. 

“I’m mean?” he scoffs, “How m’I mean, darling?” 

“Y-You’re teasing.” 

“M’not teasing, puppy,” he says, cupping her jaw romantically, despite his mocking tone. “I just know what’s best for you. You’re too messy.”

She humphs, looking away from him.

“Don’t be like that, puppy,” he coos, voice low and smooth, pressing a sticky kiss to her cheek with his wine stained lips. “Y’know I’m right.” 

She feels her resolve crumbling as his hands slide up and down her thighs, his breath tickling her ear and lips skimming the shell of it. She can feel herself getting wet as Harry presses more hot kisses against her skin, her breath catching in her throat. When his hand slides into her hair and tilts her face towards his, she shows no resistance. His lips find hers and he kisses her, slow and hot. She sighs into his mouth, always finding pleasure in the feeling of his lips against hers, even if she might be mad at him for being stingy with the wine. 

He tastes like the sweet berries of the wine, his tongue slipping into her mouth and sliding against hers hotly. She supposes this will have to do, sucking on his tongue and moaning at the sweet taste of the wine that she’s so excited for. Her legs squeeze around his hips as she presses herself down, her fingers digging into his shoulders. She pulls off of his lips with a quiet moan as she feels Harry’s palm grinding against her clit over her soaked panties. He buries his face in her neck, kissing and sucking while she throws her head back and rubs herself down on her hand. 

“All this for me, puppy?” Harry groans into her skin. “Soaked through your panties already, n’I barely even touched you.” 

She whimpers, embarrassed but not embarrassed enough to stop rubbing herself on his hand.

“What’s got you so worked up, hm?” His fingers pinch her clit through her panties, then slide down to finger her dripping slit. She hides her face in his neck, turned on and overwhelmed. 

“Maybe you like it when Daddy’s a little bit mean,” he murmurs, his voice nothing more than a dark rumble in his chest. Her cheeks burn at how easily he figured out the truth, how she gave herself away by getting so wet when he teased her, mocked her, called her a little girl who needed Daddy to take care of her.

The tightening of y/n’s fingers on his shirt and the fact that she refuses to take her face out of his neck while rubbing herself on his fingers tells him his answer. He chuckles lowly, trying to softly coax her out of hiding, “S’okay baby. Don’t be embarrassed.” 

When she whines petulantly and refuses to look at him, his voice turns stern. “Come on, puppy. Stop hiding.”

Oh and that voice… he’s just found out her weakness and is using it against her! She goes moony for Harry when his voice goes low and his grip grows heavy. She pulls herself out of his neck and looks up at him with wide eyes.

“Good girl,” he murmurs softly, petting her face, “Such a good girl for daddy, hm?” She stays humble, simply blinking up at him innocently, even though she wants to whine at him that she’s the best girl and that he shouldn’t be teasing her so much. She doesn’t need to beg, though, as he mutters to himself, “I think you deserve a reward.” 

His thumb, which had been tracing over her bottom lip softly, sinks into her mouth, her pretty lips parting around his thick finger as he pulls her mouth open. “Keep it open, m’kay?” he whispers. Her eyes glimmer excitedly as he slips the finger out. 

Reaching for the long abandoned wine glass, he takes a sip– but doesn’t swallow. Instead, he leans towards y/n’s open mouth and connects their lips, letting the dark wine spill from his mouth into hers. Y/n squeaks excitedly, finally understanding what he’s doing and lapping up the wine from his mouth quickly. Her fingers twist into his shirt unconsciously and she grinds down on his lap like an eager little puppy, trying to get as close to him as possible. She licks and sucks on his tongue, kisses him to lap up any of the wine left over on his lips, and swallows it down sweetly. When she pulls off, her eyes are blown out and her lips are stained red. 

That was more of a treat for him than for her, he thinks, with how eagerly she kissed him and rubbed herself on his lap. Harry can’t help the chuckle that falls from his lips, his cocky dimple popping out on his cheek. “See how much better it is when Daddy does it?”

She doesn’t even have it in her to process his mocking words, mesmerized by him. She wants to keep kissing him, feel his hands all over her skin, drown in him. She leans in for a kiss, but each time her lips graze his he jerks his head back, mouth open in a teasing smirk. She pouts, staring at him with wide, pleading eyes.

Only when she’s sitting patiently does he give in, pressing his lips against hers and kissing her top lip. She presses herself into the kiss, her eyebrows furrowing with need as her hands grip the lapels of his shirt. A soft whimper escapes her when Harry’s fingers are back on her core, fingering up and down her soaked panties and tracing over her clit. He sneaks his hand into the front of her panties, his palm sliding slowly over her mound until his fingers feel the soft bud of her clit. 

She gasps into his mouth as his fingers start circling, soft and gentle swipes that make her twitch. His touch is so light, his fingers barely pressing down… but still it makes her whine and whimper, a burning feeling bubbling in her tummy. She’s already so close, but can you blame her? She’s been aching for him all night, literally has been yearning to feel his hands since they left the winery. She’s been eyeing his hands, with his strong fingers and thick knuckles and veins running up to his tattooed forearms. His warm palm, which he’d rested on her thigh the entire drive home. His soft thumb, which he’s been circling on her hip all night. 

And god, he’d looked so good tonight!!! It might be the wine that’s making her so extra horny, but Harry’s just so… hot. Not only is he smart and polite and gentlemanly, he’s also the most attractive man to walk the face of this earth. With his stubble and his broad back and strong arms… his pretty green eyes and his lips… his cocky smirk… he’s just such a man. He’s not like the stupid boys at school… he’s her sexy older boyfriend who takes her out for dinner and then fucks her til she’s crying. 

His tongue slips into her mouth at the same time that he slides a finger into her slit, the thick digit wiggling its way through her plushy walls to pet at the spot that makes her clench around him. He can only fit one of his big fingers into her tight hole, and the fit is so snug that it makes his eyes roll into the back of his head. His mouth is open as he kisses her, half of his mind focused on making sure to pet her in all the right places, while the other half tries to keep up with her eager kisses. He’s breathing her in, lips puckering around anything he can reach and his tongue sliding against hers, desperate to just taste her even if it makes their kiss a little messy.

Her breathing stutters and a high pitched squeak escapes her when he starts trying to work a second finger into her. She squeezes tight at the anticipation of it, making it hard for him to get another finger in there without hurting her. “Relax, baby,” he murmurs against her lips, retreating the second finger and rubbing at her clit a little bit more until she’s no longer clenching around him so hard. 

“Feels really good, daddy,” she whispers, her mouth in an open pout, too overwhelmed to try and keep kissing him. 

“I know sweetheart,” he murmurs back, lips skimming over her neck as he breathes in her sweet scent, before migrating back to her lips. He groans out lightly as he attempts to sink a second finger again, this time proving more successful as her pussy flutters open for him. He curls his fingers against her front wall while his thumb continues rolling against her clit, a motion that she’s never able to recreate when she’s trying to do it herself. Any form of pleasure has been ruined for her if it’s not coming from Harry’s hands, or his mouth, or his cock… he’s set the bar too high. 

Their mouths just hang open together, panting into each other’s mouths as Harry’s fingers work her towards her end, their tongues touching and lips puckering every once in a while as they attempt a really messy kiss. 

There’s a ringing in her ears as her heart starts to pound faster in her chest, Harry’s fingers setting a rhythm that sends jolts up her spine. She falls into his chest, fingers digging into his suit and her face burying in his neck as she tries to catch her breath.

“Doesn’t it feel nice when Daddy takes care of you?” Harry murmurs in her ear. The wine in his system and his love for y/n have got him going heavy on the words… but she obviously loves it. 

“So good,” she whimpers into his throat.

“Y’like my fingers in your little pussy, hm? Like it when I rub your pretty clit like this?” 

She whines again, nodding her head but unable to formulate any words.

“Come on, puppy, use your words… tell daddy how much you love it.”

“Love you, daddy,” she says, fuzzy headed, just seconds away from her climax.

He chuckles warmly. That wasn’t what he asked for, but it’ll do. “I love you too, sweetheart,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her head. “Come on, cum for daddy. Let me hear you.” 

She moans loudly, fluttering round his fingers and rutting her hips as an orgasm takes over her body. With her head thrown back, she feels no shyness in whining out, as she cums, daddy falling from her lips desperately, which he swallows up in a kiss, soothing her through her peak. 

+++

The next morning, she surprisingly wakes up clear headed and well rested. With how wine drunk she was the night before, she’d expected to wake up with a pounding headache and her stomach turning uneasily. 

But then she remembers how Harry tucked her into bed the night before, how he’d taken her into the bathroom and brushed her teeth for her because she was too loose-limbed to do it herself. And then he’d slipped her out of her dress, kissed her shoulders gently as he dressed her in one of his big t-shirts, and given her a pair of clean panties to sleep in. He’d let her rest her head on his chest when they climbed in bed, and petted her hair while she whined about how much she loved him, chuckled sweetly when she started kissing his chest even though she was on the brink of sleep.

When she started to get fussy again, her pressed to his chest, “you’re the most precious thing in my life.”irt in an attempt to get him naked again in a haze of drunk horniness, he slipped his thumb into her mouth, let her suckle on his finger to distract her. He talked to her with a soft voice, murmured sweet words about how much he loved her. “Love you so much, sweetheart,” he whispered as she fell asleep with her ear words muffled by his thumb.

“Love you,” she whispered back sleepily, her words muffled by his thumb.

When he thought she’d fallen asleep, he stopped petting at her hair and tried to get up to brush his own teeth – but she whined in her sleep at that, her legs wrapping around his thigh to keep him in bed and her eyebrows furrowing as though she was going to start crying in her sleep. He’d hushed her, resuming his previous position as though he hadn’t even tried to leave, and stayed like that, just watching her sleep, until her grip on him loosened and he was finally able to slip away silently. 

He returned as soon as he brushed his teeth and took off his expensive suit, now lying next to y/n with his lips pursed in a sleepy pout and his eyebrows furrowed. Even in his sleep, he looks grumpy… it makes y/n smile. She smooths her thumb over the wrinkle between his brows, and he evidently relaxes in his sleep. 

She presses a kiss to his cheek, thinking that she’s being sneaky and sneaking a kiss before he wakes up, but when she tries to pull away he grabs her wrist. “Another one,” he mumbles, eyes still closed.

She giggles, and presses a soft kiss to his other cheek. “Another,” he repeats, and she kisses his nose. “Another,” and she kisses his jaw. 

“Another–” he tries to say again, but she cuts him off. 

“Oh my gosh, Harry,” she laughs. “Just wake up already.” 

He smiles at the sound of her laugh, a sleepy smile that's soft enough so only one of his dimples pops out. His eyes flutter open, eyelashes like delicate little butterflies, and his green eyes meet hers. They look so clear and bright in the morning, a spring green that glimmers in the morning light. “Hi,” he says, staring up at her, “I love you.”

Her heart jumps at those three words, and she has to restrain herself from jumping out of the bed to have a total freak out over the fact that Harry loves her. Obviously she loves him – she has for a while. But she worried that she’d been nervous that Harry wouldn’t feel the same way. Maybe she was just this over-emotional little girl who fell in love way too quickly, and if she told him… he’d be grossed out or something and break up with her. 

If she were in her right mind, she never would’ve confessed that she loved him in such a vulnerable moment. She curses her drunk self for being so loose-lipped… but at least it ended in a happy way. Harry loved her back! 

And it’s the first thing he wants to tell her in the morning.

“I love you,” she whispers back bashfully. Harry can tell that the three words make her shy, and it only makes him love her even more. He pulls her into his chest for a bear hug, arms wrapping around her and completely engulfing her. 

He doesn’t want to let go of her, wants to hold her in his arms forever and just fall back asleep like this… but then her tummy rumbles. Her stomach is always making some type of noise, and even though it embarrasses her, he can’t help the laugh that tumbles out of his chest.

“Pancakes?” he asks.

She hums, “Mm, yeah. Can I make coffee with your fancy machine?”

“Only if you promise not to burn yourself.”

+++

You pressed the brakes as you came to a sharp corner, still searching for the toggle for the wipers to activate, it was difficult seeing out the rain-droplet-covered windshield. You slowed down too quickly, though as the car you were driving began to skid a little. When you'd regained control of the car you kept yourself at a slower pace while still reaching around behind the steering wheel to feel for the wipers toggle.

Suddenly there were lights flashing behind you and you realized you were being pulled over. Fuck fuck. This car didn't even belong to you. It was your friend's that you'd borrowed.

You pulled your car over to the side of the narrow street and the police vehicle behind you pulled in near your rear bumper.

After a few minutes of you taking deep breaths the police officer arrived at your window and tapped, motioning with his finger to open it.

You rolled your window down and planted a big smile on your face and tried to get your story straight in your mind, but telling the truth was probably going to the be the best way out of this.

When he leaned in, he shined a light into the car and asked you for your driver's license. His voice was deep and smooth. You couldn't make out his face just yet with the light shining at you.

You remained quiet until he leaned in again, handing your California ID back to you. He turned off the light and that's when you saw his handsome features.

"You were driving quite erratically back there. Care to explain what's going on?" He placed his elbows into your open window and ducked down enough to hear you, but with the rain and splashes that were dripping down into the car was distracting to you both.

"I am not used to driving on this side of the road. I'm so sorry!" You explained. The officer uncrossed his arms and dipped his face back down again to look at you.

"Let's go sit in my car. It'll be easier than standing out here in the rain."

You followed him to his car and got into the passenger seat where you tried explaining what'd happened but you were struck by how gorgeous this man was. You could see tattoos peaking out from the edge of his cuffed shirt along his forearm, his light green eyes taking in your own appearance, dark curls, now wetted with rain, sharp jawline...

You adjusted yourself in the seat in a way that allowed your skirt to ride up dangerously high, but not so that it would appear you'd done it on purpose. Maybe you could flirt your way out of this. Or who knows, maybe you could wind up getting lucky tonight after all, as that was your goal when you went out in the first place.

You didn't miss the way the officer looked down at your bare thigh and then back up to your eyes as you spoke about how you couldn't find the wiper toggle.

"When we're done here, do you think you could help me find the toggle? I know it sounds so dumb, but I just don't know where it is. I'm so dumb sometimes. I'm sorry officer." You smile up at him and bit your lip.

His face remained stoic and calm but he did allow his gaze to drop to your lips.

"I can take a look when we're done here. That car you're driving, is not registered to you, nor is it a rental. Who's vehicle is that?" He speaks with his eyes pinned on you.

"It's my friend's actually. I'd really like to avoid a ticket or anything at all if possible." You lick your lips and drag your eyes over his uniform and broad stature.

"And how would you avoid such a fate? I should be writing you a ticket right now." He cocked his head in wait for your answer.

"I'd be so thankful if you didn't. I don't know what I could do to avoid getting a ticket. Is there any way to talk you out of it?" You noticed his name tag pinned over the breast pocket of his shirt, Officer Styles.

"You should be thankful. But I don't accept bribes via talk. If you're plan is to talk your way out of it then you're out of luck." He furrowed his brows as you wiggled a bit in your seat, angling yourself toward him.

"I see. Well, Officer Styles, is there anything I can do if talk is off the table?" You gulp hard. You were really pressing your luck here. You could get thrown in jail for your behavior.

Officer Styles pulled his eyes from you and leaned forward toward where a black box sat on his dash. He flipped a metal switch down and the green lights that blinked along the front dimmed down and only one red light remained lit. He turned back to you and put his hand through his hair as he looked at your mouth then back down to your thighs, which were now quite exposed from the position you were seated in. When you saw his attention on your thighs you parted your legs a couple of inches in invitation, if he felt so inclined.

"I have something in mind. But I'll need you to comply fully. No talking back, no smart mouth, just do as I say and I'll let you go without a fine."

Your eyes widened and you nodded at him as he slid his warm palm over the inside of your thigh and upward into your skirt. You opened your legs further for his access as the officer turned his whole body toward you.

"Okay. Good." He pinched at your thigh as he told you the rules, "We're going to move into the back seat and you're going to ride my cock like the little slut you are. But if I hear one bratty thing come out of your mouth I'm not going to let you come. Instead, I'm gonna fuck your mouth raw until you can't see or speak. Understood?"

You nodded and squeaked out a whine. Officer Styles was so fucking hot and you were going to get fucked by him in the backseat of his police vehicle. His dominance was a turn on and you wanted to comply so he'd be pleased with you.

You both exited the car and climbed into his back seat. You were immediately being dragged across the seat into the officer's lap where he pushed his lips onto yours, licking at your mouth, causing you to open up for him. The kiss was frantic and hard and you whined again, feeling his hardness poke at your center. He flipped your skirt up and grasped onto your ass, squeezing incredibly hard making you moan into his mouth. You ground down over him and he tilted his hips upward allowing you more friction from his cock.

Suddenly Officer Styles grabbed you by your hips and moved you off of him and began undoing his belt and trousers, pulling them down just enough so that he could pull his thick cock out through the front opening of his briefs.

You waited patiently for him as you watched his hard cock sway with it's heavy weight. You couldn't wait to sink down on him and feel it inside of you.

"Alright, now climb back up. Gonna show you how sluts get treated when they try to bribe cops." He spread his legs and planted his feet flat on the floor of the backseat.

You climbed over him, feeling your panties already soaked. He was hot and bossy and his cock looked very delicious. When you'd settled over him he slid his fingers into the band of your thong and ripped at it, causing the fabric to fall away from you. Now your bare, wet pussy was nudged onto his his thick and wide cock. You rocked over him again, wanting to feel him against you.

He smacked your ass hard, causing a shocking sting to travel down over your body. It rocked you forward into him and you moaned. He did it again as he leaned into you and bit down over your bottom lip.

"Fuck, you're already so wet for me, aren't you? Needy little slut, needing to get fucked by a cop, huh? So, climb on. Let's see how much you can handle."

You let out a groan as you brought yourself up and held onto the officer's strong shoulders. He held his hard prick up to your hole and swiped around a bit, nudging his abundant head up to your clit and then back down to you dripping entrance. He sighed as you began to sink down over him and you moaned loudly at the feeling of the stretch.

You had to move up and down a bit to really get adjusted and to finally sink down over his entire length, but once you were seated firmly onto the officer's lap with his cock tucked firmly inside of you, he showed no mercy as he began fucking up into you, smacking his groin into you at each thrust.

Your mouth parted and you were being bumped up quite violently with the force of his cock inside of you, sliding through your walls and pushing into you so fucking deeply caused you to see Jesus Christ himself. You'd never been fucked like this before. His feet planted and thighs working his hips as they thrust, you could do nothing but take it.

"Fuck! Oh my god!" Was all you could get out before he smacked your ass again.

"Taking my big cock into your little cunt like a good slut." Officer Styles grunted out. You couldn't make much noise because air was being punched out of your throat each time he drilled himself up into you.

The slick sounds of your cunt being smacked into and Office Styles' occasional grunts and dirty words were the only noises filling his car.

When the officer slowed his pace after cursing you could tell he was on the verge of coming. His slower pace allowed you to moan and gasp at the repeated forceful intrusion of his long cock, reaching deep inside of your tummy.

"Mmm... Feels so good." You moaned and keened as your clit was dragging over the fabric of his briefs that he'd left on for ease, his slick cock poked through the opening of the front, buried deeply into your cunt.

His hands grasped at your thighs and he moaned when he looked down at where you two were connected, his girthy shaft disappearing into your pussy at each thrust.

"You've been a good little cock slut for me, so I'll let you come this time." He angled his hips upward sharply and you yelped at the pinch it caused inside of you. Officer Styles was too deep for you. Normally you'd have told whatever guy you were fucking that it was too much, but you wouldn't dare tell Officer Styles to stop. He was doing you a favor by letting you get out of a ticket and letting you come, so you wouldn't complain at how deep he reached and how it ached in your tummy when he thrust into you sharply like he did just then.

"Thank you, sir! I want to come. I'll be a good cock slut for you!" He rolled his eyes to the back of his head as he looked up toward the ceiling of his cop car. Seeing your drenched hole take him in was sending him over the edge too quickly and he needed to pace himself so you could come around him. He loved the feel of women coming around his cock, it made his own orgasm that much better.

"Then come. Fucking come on my cock. Let me see you." He brought his gaze to yours as he slurred out his words. He was losing his mind having you around him like this. He'd fucked many women, it wasn't hard in his position. Not only was he a man in uniform, but he was attractive and confident. He'd rarely ever been turned down. He got all the pussy he wanted, when he wanted it. On the regular. But he really enjoyed fucking your tight little pussy with your tiny skirt flipped up over your hips. You looked so good stuffed full of his cock.

The officer's sharp strokes up into you caused you more pain but it turned into euphoria paired with the friction your clit received from his briefs. You began to shake and moan loudly, your heart rate picked up and you threw your head back in ecstasy as your orgasm crashed through you violently. You dripped down over the officer's pants and over his briefs, soaking him all over and even onto the seat below. He'd need to change his briefs as soon as he got home before his wife saw the mess you'd caused.

He released his orgasm into you, coming when you squeezed over his cock with your pretty little whines and moans in his ears. Officer Styles groaned into the car when the force of his climax throttled him. He held you down on him as he came inside of you, whimpering his own curses and praises into your ears.

When your brain collected itself the officer smacked your thighs, "Up you go."

You shakily climbed off of him and watched as his come spilled out onto his pants and onto the seat of his car. You covered your mouth, eyes wide, hoping he wouldn't be mad.

"Goddamnit!" He shouted as he wiped over his pants and then looked at you. You didn't know it would be so messy, and it wasn't your fault that you dripped him out like that so you stayed silent, waiting for his next comment.

He grasped at your chin and shook his head, "Couldn't have been helped, could it? You're just a simple cock slut who didn't know any better. Here." He leans down and grabs your torn thong and stuffs it into your hands.

"Can't have my wife finding your panties in my car, now can we?" He chuckled and tucked himself back in before redoing his belt.

You take your wet panties and ball them up into one of your palms and try to open the door but it's locked from the inside.

"Hold on. I'll open up your door from the outside, just wait here." The officer steps out of the vehicle, slamming the door behind him before rounding his car and opening up your door.

"Now, you needed help finding the wiper toggle?" He says as you climb out.

"Yes. Please, if that's alright, sir." You follow him to your car and he scrunches himself into the tiny car and turns on the engine before easily finding the nob to turn on the windshield wipers. He points to where you find it, "Right here is the switch. Turn it toward yourself to increase the speed, away to decrease and turn off." He climbs out and motions for you to get back into your friend's car.

When you've sat into your seat, the officer is still standing there, holding onto the door, waiting for you to get situated. He watches you with a frown and leans over you to buckle you in.

"Not too smart are you? Now I've just potentially saved your life by buckling you in. You owe me. Take this." He hands a card to you and it's got his department info on it, along with his name and a number. Harry Styles.

"Thank you, officer. Again. For everything." He keeps his face hardened but you see the smallest edge of a smile creep onto his lips as he closes the door and walks back to his car, which you watch in your rearview mirror until he's completely out of your site and inside of his own vehicle.

Check-in*

Check out my masterlist if you enjoyed this

You let out a soft groan as you stretch your arms over your head before rolling over onto your stomach, a sleepy smile on your face as you snuggle deeper into the plush bedding that has you wrapped up in the comforting scent that’s the perfect mixture of Harry’s cologne that’s still clinging to the sheets from when he leaned over and placed a kiss to your forehead before leaving for the office a few hours ago and the warm cashmere scented fabric softener he let you talk him into getting at the store last week. You let yourself take a few minutes to fully wake up before you sadly decide it’s time to leave your cozy cocoon and start your day.

You let out a small yawn as you sit up and toss your legs over the side of the bed and reach over to your nightstand. The blinds slowly begin to open as you push a button on the fancy remote that you swear controls just about everything in the apartment and even thought you’ve asked Harry to explain to you what each button does over a dozen times you still end up pressing the wrong one at least once a week resulting in something like the tv being turned on instead of the lights.

“Coffee…need coffee then we can figure out what to do today.” You tell yourself as you stand up, putting the remote back on your nightstand and stepping into your slippers that Harry always makes sure are right next to the bed because he knows how cold your feet tend to get on the hardwood floors.

You hum to yourself as you make your way into the kitchen, smiling at how nice the weather looks outside when you pass the floor to ceiling windows that make up the entire back wall of the living room. The curtains already open thanks to Harry who knows how much you enjoy the natural light so as he’s waiting for his coffee to be ready he goes and opens them while taking a moment to admire the view from the top floor of the apartment building, enjoying the fact no one can see into the space from so far up. When you make your way into the kitchen you rub your lips together as you stand in front of the coffee maker.

“Two scoops for four cups…one scoop for two.” You remind yourself with a nod as you grab the container of ground coffee and the filters. “Filter…coffee…water.” You mumble as you press the filter down into the coffee maker and add one scoop of coffee grounds before taking the pot over to the sink. “All the way to the two.” You say with a smile as you shut the water off once the pot is full all the way to the two cup line. You pour the water into the tank and step back after closing the lid and pressing start.

While your coffee is being made you pad over to the fridge to grab your creamer but as soon as you open the door you feel the corners of your mouth turn downwards. Inside the fridge next to your bottle of apple juice is Harry’s lunchbox, and not just any lunchbox but the one you bought him for his birthday last year that has his name embroidered on it to match the same color and style as the initials on his briefcase. You grab the creamer and shut the door with a sigh, you chew on your bottom lip as you place the bottle on the counter next to the coffee maker so you can reach up and get a mug out of the cabinet.

“Did he leave it on purpose or did he forget it?” You ask yourself as you pour some creamer into your bright pink and yellow mug. “Either way we should bring it to him…oh but he’s always so busy at work…but what if he forgot it and is hungry and then he realizes he has no lunch? That would be horrible…we can’t have him going hungry…we will just drop it off it’ll be fine.” Your voice is soft yet full of worry as you talk yourself through trying to figure out if it’s a good or bad idea to drop Harry’s lunch off at his office. But your mind is made up by the simple fact you can’t stand the thought of Harry having such a busy day and doing it all on an empty stomach.

The walk to Harry’s office is one you’ve done plenty of times, you enjoy the view of the pretty buildings and beautifully decorated storefronts you pass along the way. It’s also a walk that Harry prefers you not to take alone, seeing as it’s a bit long and he doesn’t like to think about all the things that could happen during the forty five minute commute. But as you wrap your scarf around your neck as you cross the street after waiting for the signal to change you smile to yourself when you look up and see Harry’s bulging come into view. Feeling a sense of giddiness start to bubble up in your chest because normally on days he works you don’t get to see him until late in the evening so a mid day visit has you feeling extra bubbly and excited.

The rest of the walk happens in a blur, having only two moments of panic when you nearly tripped over an older man’s cane and when you got too excited and crossed the street at the same time a bicyclist made a right turn waiting in him almost running straight into you. But both events ended with you being unharmed, the man on the bike might’ve shouted a few rude words at you but you didn’t really notice because you were far too busy being distracted by the entrance to Harry’s office building. Having been to his office as many times as you have you’d think the intimidation would fade away bit by bit with each visit but for some reason every single time you walk into the lobby you suddenly feel as if you’re made of glass letting everyone see right through you and go about their day as if you’re not even there at all.

You tighten your grip on Harry’s lunchbox as you enter the elevator and press the button for the top floor, trying to ready yourself for the sideways glances and fake smiles you’re about to receive the moment you step out of the elevator. As you hear the familiar ding and the doors open and you step out of the elevator you feel your heart start to pound in your chest all because you know in just a few short minutes you’ll be face to face with Harry, the person that makes the rest of the world fade into a blur with his warm smile and bright eyes that always stare at you with such a soft sort of intensity that you can never get enough of.

“Uhm good afternoon can I help you with something?” You’re snapped out of your thoughts by the sound of a man’s voice coming from behind you.

“Hi there I’m just dropping this off-he forgot it at home.” You explain as you hold up Harry’s lunchbox while turning around to face the young man who has a very confused look on his face as he stands up from his desk that’s just a few feet away from the doors to Harry’s office.

“He’s in the middle of a meeting two floors down so if you want I’ll give it to him when he gets back?” The smile on your face fades into a small pout as the man tells you Harry isn’t sitting at his desk behind the tall wooden doors you were just about to walk through.

“Oh uh well-” you chew on your bottom lip as you look over your shoulder at the doors and then down at the lunchbox in your hand, you get hit with an idea as you look back over towards who you can only assume is Harry’s newest assistant seeing as he seems to go through them at a rate that has him not even bothering to tell you their names anymore. “I’ll just wait for him in his office-I have a free day so I don’t mind.” Your words cause a look of panic to flash across the man’s face as he scrambles to walk around to the front of the desk.

“I’m sorry you-you can’t just wait in his office he has a very busy day and-”

“He won’t mind I promise- sorry what’s your name?”

“Adam.”

“I promise you Adam he won’t care if I’m in there when he gets back.”

“I-I don’t think it’s a good idea he doesn’t like people in his office when he’s not there.” Adam explains making you laugh as you turn around because that is such a typical Harry thing but you know you’re not included in the “people” he’s talking about so you just head into Harry’s office with him right behind you in a near panic induced sweat.

“Don’t worry it’ll be okay.” You say in your usual sweet and soft voice that has Adam running a hand through his sandy blonde hair and letting out a deep sigh. “You can just act like I’m not here-I can keep myself entertained until he gets back so feel free to go back to your desk and do whatever it is you were doing before I showed up.” You tell him as you walk over to the sofa that’s on the same wall the doors are on, placing his lunchbox on the small coffee table before you slip off your scarf and shrug off your purple coat placing them both over the armrest of the couch revealing your pink sweatshirt and jeans with bedazzled star shaped patches sewn all over them.

“I uhm-okay just uh I’ll be out there if you need anything.” He tells you nervously as he points towards the door, you just give him a warm and reassuring smile as you plop down onto the plush sofa.

“Thank you.” With that he just gives you an awaked wave and a nod before turning and walking out of the office, closing the door behind him. You pull out your phone and debate on sending Harry a text letting him know you’re here or not, you tap your index finger on your chin as you stare at the text thread between the two of you. You smile to yourself as you lock your phone and toss it onto the coffee table.

“This will be a nice surprise.” You tell yourself as you get comfortable on the sofa. “I’m sure his meeting won’t take that long.”

Harry runs a hand over his face as he stands in the elevator that’s taking him back to the top floor, having had back to back meetings that took up most of his day and lasted entirely too long for his liking he is well past his threshold for dealing with idiotic people for the day. He doesn’t smile at the people he walks by on the way down the hallway towards his office, but he also doesn’t glare or scowl at them so in Harry’s mind he’s being polite by just avoiding them all together. It’s not until he sees his assistant’s desk that he makes any sort of indication of how he’s feeling having been kept away from his office and the stack of paperwork he needs to go through and checks waiting for his signature he knows is siting on his desk.

“Didn’t I ask you to make sure I had an hour between each meeting today?” Harry’s voice has Adam nearly jumping out of his skin as he looks up and sees Harry standing right in front of his small desk, his arms are crossed and his eyes are set in a hard glare.

“I tried but the accounting department didn’t-”

“The accounting department-hell every department in this building works for me so they can all work around my schedule seeing as I’m the one who signs their paychecks and all.” Harry says coldly as he watches his assistant fumble with his notepad that has Harry’s schedule for the day written down on it.

“I’m sorry I’ll make sure that uhm n-next time you have a break between m-meetings.” Harry rolls his eyes as Adam stumbles his way through an apology, but having dealt with enough disappointment for one day after leaving a marketing meeting on the second floor Harry just lets it go and turns around to head into his office leaving Adam sitting there letting out a sigh of relief having avoided a verbal beating he knows Harry is capable of.

The moment Harry walks into his office he can tell something is off, the sky turning into a swirl of golden yellow and orange as the sun begins to set has the room engulfed in a soft glow and as he closes the door behind him he gets hit with a smell that has his brows furrowing. It’s a warm and comforting scent that he is extremely familiar with because it’s the way you always smell, but he doesn’t know if it’s just his mind playing a cruel trick on him in an attempt to calm himself down or if it’s the lingering remnants of your perfume that’s left on his coat that’s hanging in the corner of the room on his coatrack. When his eyes scan the room he feels his heart nearly fall to his feet when he sees a pink sweatshirt clad arm poking out over a purple coat and a fuzzy sock covered foot hanging off the edge of his sofa looking as if you’re trying to warm yourself up with how curled in on yourself you are while using your coat as a blanket and your scarf as a pillow.

Harry stands there for a moment taking the scene in, fighting the urge to walk over to you and feel the warmth of your cheek pressed against his palm but he doesn’t want to disturb you, not when he has one last thing he needs to deal with before he can wake you up and take you home. He quietly turns and opens his office door just enough for him to slip through, taking one last glance at you before softly closing it. As soon as the door clicks shut his eyes narrow in on the one person who he knows for a fact had to know you were here because he never leaves his desk unless Harry gives him permission to and that person is Adam.

“Everything okay Mr. Styles?” The man asks with a smile that makes Harry’s blood start to boil as he walks over to his desk.

“How long have you worked here Adam?” He asks as he shoves his hands into the front pockets of his slacks so he’s not tempted to reach across the desk and do something he probably wouldn’t regret but wouldn’t be able to justify to Human Resources.

“Six months.” He answers proudly having worked here longer than any of Harry’s previous assistants. Harry just nods and rubs his lips together before titling his head to the side and quirking an eyebrow.

“So you’ve worked here long enough to know the one rule I have for this office?” Adam swallows down his nerves as Harry stares down at him with such a harshness he is afraid to even dare to look away even though he so desperately wants to. “It’s not a trick question Adam. What’s the one rule I have?”

“Uhm don’t be late?”

“Wrong. Try again.”

“Always have your schedule ready for you when you walk in?”

“Also wrong.” Harry snaps as he leans down and rests a hand on top of Adam’s desk so he can reach over and tap his forehead with the index finger of his other making the man flinch. “Now use that little peanut sized brain of yours and really think about it this time and try again.” His voice is almost threatening as his eyes seem to darken to a deep forest green as they stare into Adam’s bright blue ones.

“I-I don’t-don’t know sir I’m sorry.” Harry lets out a disappointed sigh as he stands up and takes his phone out of the inside pocket of his suit jacket, Adam watches in confusion as he taps the screen a few times before holding it so it’s right in Adam’s face. Harry watches the color drain from the man’s face as his eyes nearly go as wide as golf balls as he looks at the photo of you on Harry’s phone screen.

“Oh my god I forgot she-” Harry holds up a finger making the man quickly stop talking.

“She never waits.” Harry says as calmly as he can while tucking his phone back in his suit pocket. “That means if you see her you come and tell me. I don’t care if I’m in a meeting or on the phone it doesn’t matter she comes first. That’s my one rule.”

“I’m so sorry she came while you were in your morning meeting and I forgot she was here…she’s so quiet.” For some reason hearing Adam tell him how he forgot about you has a sudden surge of rage come over Harry and before he can stop himself he’s reaching across his desk and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt with one hand while the other points towards his office.

“You forgot about her? She’s been in there since my morning meeting and because she’s so fucking quiet and to herself you didn’t even remember she was in there? What kind of extra special brand of fucking moron are you?” The words fly out of his mouth with such an intensity Adam flinches with each one as Harry practically pulls him up out of his chair by the grip on his shirt. “You have two minutes to pack your shit and get out of this building and I mean it. If it takes you even one second longer than that I will personally see to it that you never get another job in this city again.” He spits at him before he lets go of his shirt making Adam stumble backwards a bit with the force of it.

“I-I am s-so sorry sir I really d-didn’t-”

“Clocks ticking Adam.” Harry warns as he smooths out his suit jacket before turning to walk back to his office.

“Shit.” Harry can’t help but smile as the sound of Adam stressfully and chaotically clearing his desk of all his personal items hits his ears a he grabs the door handle to his office.

Now while Harry may be hard to deal with and a bit of an asshole he does have a small thread of decency in him that will prevent him from actually making good on his threat, knowing that even idiots like Adam need jobs to survive. He lets out a deep sigh trying to rid himself of his anger and irritation before he pushes the door open and steps inside his office, not wanting to bring any of that negativity anywhere near you. His eyes instantly find you still laying on his sofa as he closes the door, he feels a sense of relief wash over him that the loudness from his outburst towards his now ex assistant didn’t seem to disturb you at all.

As he walks over to the sofa he spots his lunchbox on the coffee table and it all clicks in Harry’s head, he knew he forgot his lunch at home the moment he got into the car this morning but he figured he would have time to call you and explain how he will just get something delivered between meetings but that didn’t end up happening due to Harry not having even five minutes to himself throughout the day. His chest almost hurts thinking of how you seeing his lunchbox in the fridge must’ve made you panic thinking he was going to be hungry without it making you feel the need to bring it all the way to his office. When he reaches his sofa he reaches a hand out and brushes some hair out of your face as he kneels down in front of where you’re laying across the couch resting his hand on the side of your head.

“Baby.” Harry whispers softly as he runs his thumb over your eyebrow, something he knows you find to be ticklish in an attempt to wake you up gently. “Sweetheart.” He smiles when you let out a small noise as you start to stir, he moves his hand away from your face and grabs your coat and tosses it over the armrest on the other side of the sofa.

“Five more minutes.” Your voice is muffled a bit as you roll over so you’re facing the back of the couch. Harry lets out a little chuckle as he stands up and reaches over so he can grab the back of the couch and lean down so his lips are by your ear.

“Love you have to get up so I can take you home.” He whispers into your ear before placing a kiss to the side of your face. You let out a hum and roll over to your back and Harry swears he’s never seen anything so adorable as he watches you slowly open your eyes, a sleepy smile spreading across your face when you realize he’s staring down at you.

“Hi.” Harry smiles as you reach a hand up and run it through his hair, but when you look around and spot his lunchbox still sitting on the coffee table your mouth drops into a frown. “You forgot your lunch.” Harry turns his head to follow your gaze and lets out a small sigh before looking back at you.

“I did.” He answers as you start to sit up, he grabs your scarf from under your head and places it on top of your coat before moving your legs so he can sit next to you, placing them back down in his lap after getting comfortable. “I meant to call you so you wouldn’t worry but-”

“I didn’t want you to be hungry.” You tell him as he reaches over and grabs both of your hands. “I know you get a little huffy when you haven’t eaten.” Harry holds back a laugh as you give him a pointed look because while you may know him better than anyone, the thing is Harry isn’t usually huffy because he hasn’t eaten he’s huffy because he has to be surrounded by annoying people he couldn’t care less about when all he really wants is to be tucked away somewhere alone with you.

“There you go again,” you raise an eyebrow at him as he places little kisses to your knuckles. “Always taking care of me.” Your cheeks go pink as he kisses the tops of your hands before letting them go. “Did you call Steve to bring you here?” He asks as his hands fall to your ankles, you look away from him and down at your hands in your lap at the mention of his driver’s name and Harry instantly knows he’s not going to like what you’re about to tell him.

“No I didn’t call Steve.” Your voice is soft and Harry just nods as his hands move down to your feet as he waits for you to finish telling him how you got to his office. After a few moments of silence he looks over and sees you chewing on your bottom lip as you mess with the ring on your index finger.

“If you didn’t call Steve then how’d you get here baby?” He asks softly as he reaches over with one hand and places his thumb on your bottom lip gently pulling it from between your teeth, you let out a small sigh before looking up and looking him in the eyes.

“I walked.” Harry’s eyes narrow just a bit as he stares at you with a look on his face that tells you he’s hoping you’ll start giggling and tell him you’re kidding because he can’t stand the idea of you taking a forty five minute walk in the heart of the city by yourself. And it’s not because he doesn’t think you’re capable of doing it but because he doesn’t like not being there to make sure you wait for the signal before crossing the street, or to keep you away from walking too close to the busy roads and not being there to shield you from the jerks who don’t look where they’re walking and bump into you.

“You walked?”

“Yes because I enjoy getting some fresh air and all the stores have their cute fall displays out-oh like this one little boutique had the sweetest looking ghost painted on their window and he was wearing pumpkin shaped sunglasses.” The excitement in your voice as you tell him about the storefront has Harry just letting out a chuckle as he rests his head on the back of the sofa, turning it so he’s still looking at you.

“Oh love of mine what am I going to do with you?” He says with a sigh as his hands continue to rub your fuzzy sock covered feet. “I know you like taking walks but next time please call Steve or even just use the card for a taxi-”

“You don’t like it when I take taxis or Ubers remember?” You remind him with a playful roll of your eyes as you reach a hand out and place it on the cheek he doesn’t have resting on the back of the couch. “Something about being alone in the car with-”

“Strangers.” He finishes for you with a small smile at how you look at him like his obsession with your safety is so odd but he knows you understand he just worries about you and this is one of the ways he shows you he cares about you. “I don’t love the idea of you riding in a random person’s care alone but it’s better than walking.” You just give him a nod as he turns his head to place a kiss to the inside of your palm, it’s not until you look around the office that you realize how dark the sky is getting outside.

“What-how long have I been here? I-I swear I got here before lunch.” You ask confused making Harry have to hide his emotions as you look around and reach for your phone off the coffee table. “Oh my god it’s-it’s five? Oh no that means you missed lunch and I fell asleep-” Harry is placing his hands on your face and turning your head so you’re looking at him before you can fully begin to spiral.

“Deep breath baby it’s okay.” His deep soothing voice mixed with the warmth of his hands has your nerves calming down enough that you’re able to do what he says, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly through your nose making him smile. “Good girl now to answer your question I’m not exactly sure how long you’ve been here but it’s been…a while and I’m sorry I didn’t know you were even here so that’s why you were able to fall asleep because I never came back to my office until just a bit ago.” He hates the small frown that forms on your face as you listen to him explain just how long you’ve been sitting or more so sleeping in his office.

“I wanted to surprise you.” Harry feels his heart sink as you place your hands over his on your face, he swallows down his guilt and gives you a smile as he leans over and places a kiss to your lips making you smile when he pulls away.

“I was very surprised sweetheart.” Your face breaks out into a grin that has Harry wishing he could somehow manage to keep a smile like that one on your face all the time. “You ready to go home now?” He asks making you nod as he leans in for one last kiss.

“You swear you were surprised?” You ask as you swing your legs over the side of the sofa letting Harry stand up.

“Yes I was very surprised to walk into my office and see my sweet cozy girl asleep on my couch.” He answers truthfully as he kneels down so he can slip your shoes on your feet before standing up and holding his hands out for you to grab.

“I wouldn’t have been asleep if you had a normal schedule and didn’t have twenty meetings in one day.” Your tone is playful but Harry still feels a pang of guilt hit him square in the chest as he nods in agreement as you let him help you up off the couch.

“I know and I’m sorry I would’ve come and met you if I knew you were waiting for me.”

“It’s okay Harry it’s not even really your fault it’s mine because I told Adam to act like I wasn’t here so he wouldn’t tell you and ruin the surprise.”

“You did what?” He asks as he holds out your coat helping you into it before grabbing your scarf and draping it around your neck.

“Told Adam- your assistant to just act like I wasn’t here and that I’d just wait in your office for you to be done-he was very worried about me being in here he said you don’t like people in your office when you’re not in here but I talked him into letting me stay.” Harry feels a small pit of annoyance begin to bubble up deep in his gut at the reminder of Adam seeing you and not immediately coming to find him to tell him. “He was very nice.” You add with a smile as Harry stands in front of you and starts to do up the buttons on the front of your coat.

“I’m glad he was nice to you love.” Is all Harry says before leaning down and placing a kiss to your forehead. “How about we grab some dinner on the way home?” He asks as he walks over to grab his coat off the coatrack, your face instantly lights up and you get that excited glint to your eyes when Harry looks over at you while slipping his coat on.

“Oh yes that sounds wonderful can we go to that place with the pizza that has the crust that’s not too thick but also not too crispy-do you know which place I’m talking about?” Your voice is full of the usual bubbly excitement that has Harry smiling as he grabs his briefcase off his desk while you slip your phone into the pocket of your coat and grab his lunchbox. “You brought home that one time after your dinner meeting with some company who sells cars I think? Or was it clothes? I can’t remember.” Harry lets out a quiet chuckle at your adorable rambling as he opens his office door letting you walk out first with him close behind you letting the door close behind him.

“Yes baby I know which pizza place you’re talking about.” He answers as he places the strap of his briefcase over his shoulder so he can grab the lunchbox from your hand. “We can have that for dinner if you promise not to steal all the breadsticks.” He teases as he leans down and places a kiss to the top of your head, you let out a laugh that has a grin spreading across his face as he reaches his free hand out and places it on the back of your neck giving it a small comforting squeeze.

“I will absolutely not be making that promise because you know how much I love a good breadstick.” You tell him truthfully as you start walking down the hallway towards the elevators with Harry right behind you keeping his hand securely on the back of your neck.

Harry’s eyes don’t glance around at his employees he knows are looking out their windows into the hallway as the two of you walk by, not wanting to give his attention to anyone but you. Harry isn’t known for being a very personable boss, he is all about being professional and maintaining a company that runs smoothly and efficiently so that leaves little time for him to get friendly with anyone at his office. He isn’t necessarily mean he just is very direct with how he speaks and it can come off as being harsh and cold but Harry just doesn’t sugar coat things, unless he’s talking to you. But you are the exception to nearly every single thing Harry normally does, never wanting to come off as mean or off putting around you because he wants to be the one that protects you from the mean people of the world and in this moment that includes the weird stares and mumbled whispers of his employees as they look at the two of you walking down the hallway.

All it takes for the workplace to get back to its usual hustle and bustle is Harry looking up and to the left looking into the window of an office that belongs to one of his senior associates, the man quickly looks away and picks up the phone that Harry knows is all a show to look as if he’s busy. But he doesn’t care as long as the staring comes to an end and the buzzing of whispers dies down to the usual shuffling of papers and the soft sound of fingers tapping on keyboards. He looks back down at you with a smile as your voice hits his ears telling him about another little storefront of a candle shop you walked by that caught your eye completely oblivious to the people around you, Harry makes a mental note to take you there this weekend because he knows you enjoy changing the scents of the house with the seasons.

“You know what I think your office needs?” Harry quirks an eyebrow as you look up at him while the two of you wait for the elevator.

“You in it all the time?” He answers smoothly making your cheeks turn pink as he does something that he normally wouldn’t dream of doing in the middle of his busy office, he leans down and places his lips on yours in a kiss that he knows will be the talk of the water cooler for the next few days.

“Uhm I-what were we talking about?” Harry lets out a laugh as you blink up at him a few times, he gives your neck a small squeeze as he urges you to walk forward into the open and waiting elevator.

“What my office needs.”

“Oh right-plants it needs some plants like some flowers maybe? To brighten it up just a little.”

“Yeah? You’ll have to pick some out for me then.” He knows that idea makes you excited as he lets go of the back of your neck to reach around you and but the button for the ground level. “Maybe you can find some flowers that match the color of your eyes so I can have a little reminder of you while I’m stuck at work.”

“You’re so cheesy.” You joke as you turn around and reach up to cup Harry’s cheeks.

“Yeah but that’s why you love me.” You just smile as he lets you pull his face down towards yours so you can place a sweet kiss to his lips.

“You’re right that’s exactly why I love you.”

Harry smiles as he stands in his closet and starts sliding off his rings, placing them in his jewelry box along with his watch all while listening to the soft sound of you singing to yourself from the bathroom as you get undressed so you can walk into the shower he started for you a few minutes ago. He pokes his head out of the closet just in time to watch your jeans drop to your ankles, his eyes roam up your legs as you slip your panties down them letting them join your jeans on the floor before you step out of them. He leans against the doorframe of the closet as you step into the shower after reaching a hand out to test the temperature of the water.

“It’s rude to stare.” You tease as you look over your shoulder at Harry through the glass of the shower, Harry doesn’t say anything in response he just smiles and pushes off the doorframe and starts unbuttoning his dress shirt as he walks towards the shower.

“I’ll just have to join you then.” You get a light blush to your cheeks as you watch Harry slip his dress shirt off and then move to undo his slacks. “Is that okay with you love?” He asks wanting to check in with you before he gets fully undressed.

“Y-yes that’s okay with me.” You answer shyly making Harry give you a soft smile as he finishes getting undressed before stepping into the shower.

“Hi sweetheart.” He whispers as his hands grab your hips and gently pull you closer to him. “It nearly killed me learning you had been in my office all day and I didn’t even get to enjoy it.” His voice is deep as he leans down and places his lips to the side of your jaw as your hands rest on his chest.

“What-what do you mean you didn’t get to enjoy it?” You ask as you tilt your head to the side letting him have more access to the soft skin of your neck.

“I didn’t get to have you sit in my lap and eat lunch with me while you tell me about your day.” He explains between little kisses to your neck, a smirk works its way onto his face as he lifts his head just enough so his lips are close to your ear. “And I didn’t get to have you bent over my desk trying to keep you quiet while I make you feel good.” He hears your breath hitch as one of his hands slides down to your ass giving it a squeeze as he pulls you closer.

You let out a small sigh as Harry turns the two of you so your back is up against the glass wall of the shower, his lips travel up your neck to your jaw until they find yours. Harry starts the kiss off being gentle, moving his lips against yours as your arms loop around his neck but when you slide a hand into the hair at the back of his head and give it a small tug the kiss turns heated. You part your lips inviting Harry to slip his tongue into your mouth as his hand grabs at the soft flesh on the outside of your thigh so he can hike your leg over his hip, Harry swallows down your soft little moans as he rolls his hips letting you get a feel of how hard he is.

“This is what you do to me baby.” He mumbles against your jaw as he gives you another roll of his hips. “Driving me wild with your cute little laugh and pretty smile and your eyes-god baby the way you look at me sometimes like I’m the only man in the room always gets me going you have no idea how badly I want you all the time.” You let out a moan as Harry bends his knees allowing him to push the tip of his thick cock into your entrance.

You lean your head back against the glass and hold onto Harry’s shoulders as he slowly pushes all the way into your wetness letting you feel every inch of him until you let out a sigh at the fullness you feel when he’s tucked all the way inside you. Harry lets you have a minute to adjust as he kisses down your neck to the top of your chest, his hand that’s not holding your leg over his hip comes down to grab your breast giving it a soft squeeze making you arch your back into him when he pinches your pebbled nipple between his thumb and index finger.

“Fuck you’re so perfect.” Harry says with a groan as he starts to move his hips at a steady pace making his name slip past your parted lips while your nails dig into his shoulders. “Feel so good wrapped around me like this baby.” You let out a loud moan as Harry’s hand gives your breast one last squeeze before sliding down between your two bodies until he’s rubbing at your clit with the pad of his thumb.

“Oh god Harry.” You moan making Harry smile against the skin of your neck, he lightly nips and sucks his way up to the spot below your ear that has you closing your eyes as a surge of pleasure runs through you.

“You sound so pretty when you’re moaning for me sweetheart.” He praises as he quickens his pace when he feels you start to clench around him. “Come on and fall apart for me baby- I’ve got you.” His words are punctuated with a harsh thrust while his thumb rubs tight slow circles over your clit making your breathing start to turn rapid.

“Don’t stop-please please don’t stop oh god.” Harry lets out a loud groan as your hips move in sync with his pushing you closer and closer to tipping over the edge.

“Come on baby let go for me-can’t fill you up until you let me feel you soak my cock.” His voice is all but pleading as he gives you a few deep thrusts. “Be a good girl for me baby and give me what I need.” Harry’s deep voice telling you to give him your release is all you needed to hear before you’re crying out his name and tumbling over the edge of your release, Harry places his lips over yours as he fucks you through your orgasm.

“So good-feel so good just like that.” You pant as Harry’s grip on your thigh tightens and after a few determined thrusts he’s moaning your name and closing his eyes as he starts to come undone and you let out a pleased sigh of satisfaction when you feel him fill you up with his warm release.

“Shit baby.” He says with a deep sigh as he rests his forehead against yours. “I love you so much.” You smile as he gives your thigh a squeeze before he gently lowers your leg back down.

“I love you too Harry.” He gives the tip of your nose a peck before he slowly pulls out making you let out a little whine that has him sweetly shushing you with a few kisses to your lips.

“Gonna let me clean you up baby?” He asks as his hands grip your hips softly, you just nod your head and let him move you so you’re standing under the warm water of the shower.

“Will you wash my hair for me?” You ask making Harry just let out a chuckle as he leans down and places his lips on yours.

If it wasn’t for you and your constant rambling about new book stores and cute little coffee shops Harry would probably never step foot inside half the places you’ve dragged him to over the two years you’ve been together, being completely fine with his very basic cup of coffee from the cafe on the corner across the street from the high rise apartment building the two of you live at the very top of. He doesn’t need to have pretty chalkboard menus or fake flower filled walls to take photos in front of in order to enjoy his coffee, honestly Harry is more of the type that likes to order ahead and just grab it at the pick up counter and walk out without ever looking up from his phone to notice the decor or the obnoxiously named seasonal drinks written in bright colors on a sign outside the door. But his usual routine of walking across the street for a coffee and a croissant go out the window every single Saturday, the day he has designated as his “day off” from everything and anything that’s not centered around you.

That’s how he finds himself standing behind you in line at a very pink themed coffee shop that he thinks might also function as a bar at night due to all the disco balls on the ceiling but he can’t be sure and he really hopes he doesn’t ever have to find out. As he looks around he instinctively reaches out and places a hand on the back of your neck so he can make sure you don’t get too far away from him, his thumb runs up and down the side of your neck as he takes in his surroundings and tries to figure out what exactly drew you in about this place minus the obvious, it’s covered in different shades of one of your favorite colors. But then just as his eyes scan the top of a case that’s full of some odd looking baked goods he spots them, coffee cups in the shape of cowboy boots and it makes his lips curve upwards into a teasing smile because one thing he knows you go absolutely crazy over is a fun cup.

“Baby tell me we aren’t here just so you can get your little iced latte in a cowboy boot.” He whispers in your ear as his hand gives the back of your neck a gentle squeeze, when you let out a laugh that has his icy cold heart threatening to melt and turn into a puddle at his feet he knows you’re going to try to play it off as if you had no idea about the western themed cups and tell him another random reason you dragged him here first thing in the morning.

“No that would be silly.” You say with a giggle as you tilt your head so you can look up at him with a smile. “I wanted to try their pink at the disco latte…but I will be getting it in a cowboy boot-oh and they have a pink matcha but I don’t think I want to try that today.” When your big bright eyes lock with his Harry can’t hold himself back from leaning down and placing his lips on yours in a sweet but also very public display of affection that he normally isn’t a fan of. But something about how adorable you look being so excited to try a new drink that he knows you’ll end up taking three sips of before handing it off for him to hold because it’s making your hands cold has him tossing his normal rules out the window, something he finds himself doing often when it comes to you.

“Uh you guys gonna order or just suck face all day?” Harry pulls away from you as the sound of a very annoyed man hits his ears from behind him. You turn back around to face the counter and look over the baked goods with a smile and slightly flushed cheeks, totally oblivious to the man that’s huffing and puffing out irritated sighs right behind the two of you.

But Harry does, he always takes note of the people who don’t seem very nice, wanting to put himself between you and them so they don’t have the opportunity to ruin your day or dull the sparkle in your eyes that he finds himself getting lost in. He’s always trying to dull the sharp edges of the world around you so they can’t penetrate your “bubble of bliss” as he calls it, because you are his walking ball of sunshine that always manages to somehow be able to pierce through the dark clouds that follow him around and bring a much needed brightness to his day.

So it comes as no surprise that he won’t tolerate anyone even attempting to dim your brightness that brings him a sense of comfort he can’t find elsewhere, but he especially won’t allow it on Saturdays. He finds it relatively easy to spot people he wants to protect you from, Harry being more on the unapproachable side with the constant scowl on his face and an all around vibe about him that screams “don’t bother me”, it’s simple really. He looks for people that remind him of himself. While you’re distracted by the extremely over priced baked goods case he turns his head to look over his shoulder just in time for the short bald man to roll his eyes as he looks directly at you.

“What the hell is taking her so long?” Harry’s jaw ticks as the man lets out another loud huff as he looks down at his watch as if he’s on the verge of running late for something.

“I don’t know if I want a muffin or a croissant.” Harry turns all his attention back to you as you tap your chin with your index finger showing off its freshly painted polka dot design that only took half an hour and one mini breakdown in Harry’s lap yesterday evening about your nails looking nothing like the Pinterest photo resulting in him somehow managing to convince you that yours looked even better than the photo between soothing kisses to your forehead and a steady hand running up and down your back.

“For fuck sake just pick something it’s not rocket science.” Harry rubs his lips together and moves his hand down your neck to your lower back, pressing his chest against you as he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“Just get both love.” He advises making you smile as if you hadn’t even thought of that idea. “Now order whatever fancy pink drink you want.” He tells you softly before placing a kiss to the side of your face, he stands up and slides his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans and slips his shiny black credit card out of it so he can hold it out for you to take. “Can you order me a small coffee as well please?” You just give him a nod and take the card from him and Harry watches you turn your attention to the barista behind the counter stepping forward with a grin and a little extra bounce in your step.

When you start rambling off your order he knows your focus isn’t anywhere close to being on him so he takes advantage of the small window of opportunity and turns around to face the man that’s been grating at his nerves ever since he walked in. And as much as it pains Harry to have to remove his hand and his attention away from you, he knows it won’t be for very long.

“Can I help you?” Harry narrows his eyes as the short man looks up at him with a quirked brow, his voice coming off more timid than before now that he has Harry’s eyes on him.

“I know this is probably the most exciting thing you’re going to do all day or probably all week but can you please stop huffing and puffing about how long it’s taking? Because if you were in any sort of real hurry you would’ve ordered ahead but you didn’t. And that’s because we both know you don’t have shit else to do today.” Harry’s eyes darken as he leans down so he can look the man directly in his eyes, a look of panic flashes across the man’s face when Harry opens his mouth to tell him one final thing.

“Because if you say one more thing about how long it’s taking my girlfriend to order then the most exciting thing you’ll be doing today is getting to know what my rings feel like when they make contact with that ugly face of yours.” His voice is low with annoyance dripping off every word, the man’s eyes widen as the threat casually rolls off Harry’s tongue having no issue at all with making good on it if the man continues opening his mouth and letting rude little comments about you fall out.

“S-sorry I-” Harry rolls his eyes and turns around before the man can finish, not caring in the slightest to hear the man’s sad mumbled excuse of an apology.

“Oh and one small coffee please-just black no cream or sugar or anything fun like that he’s very basic when it comes to coffee.” Your soft voice has Harry forgetting all about the obnoxious man behind him and smiling as you give the barista way more information than necessary, something you tend to do without even realizing it.

“I get all the sweetness I need from you love-don’t need any extra in my coffee.” He says smoothly as he places his hand on your hip and leans down to kiss the top of your head from his spot behind you. The woman behind the counter smiles as she takes the card from you, you let out a giggle as you tilt your head to look at him.

“You’re so cute.” Harry lets out a chuckle as you look away from him so you can grab the card from the barista, casually handing it back to Harry so he can return it to his wallet as she tells you where the two of you can wait for your order. “What do you think of this place? It’s cute isn’t it?” You ask as Harry moves so he’s leaning against the wall next to the pick up counter with you securely in front of him, his hand on the top of your shoulder as you lean into him.

“Oh yes it’s very cute.” There’s a light playfulness to his voice that makes you laugh and grab his hand that’s resting on your shoulder so you can give it a squeeze.

“One day I’ll find a place that you love so much it becomes your new favorite place to get coffee.” You tell him with a good amount of confidence, Harry doesn’t waste anytime before he leans his head down so he can whisper in your ear.

“My favorite place to get coffee will always be our kitchen- I love watching you pour my basic black coffee into one of your pretty little mugs and then not so secretly dip your finger in it to make sure it’s not too hot before letting me have it.”

“You always drink it when it’s too hot and burn your tongue when I don’t make it for you.” You tell him with a small pout at the thought of Harry rushing around the kitchen the mornings he lets you sleep in, making his coffee and having no desire or patience to let it sit for a bit before bringing it up to his lips so he always ends up mumbling a few curse words about how hot it is.

“You’re always looking out for me aren’t you sweetheart?” He ask with a knowing smile as he wraps his arms loosely around your shoulders, pulling you further into his chest. “You must love me or something huh?” You let out a laugh as he places little kisses to the side of your face.

“I do.” You admit with a silly little grin on your face that makes Harry wish he could freeze time so he can enjoy the warmth of you being pressed against him and the joy your smile brings for just a few moments longer. “But I know for a fact that you love me just as much.” He doesn’t deny it, or even try to playfully argue that he loves you more like he normally does, he just smiles and places a kiss to the top of your head making you let out a sigh of content as you wait for your order to be ready.

“I think it’s just up here on the left.” Harry watches as your brows pinch together in a brief moment of confusion before you turn, wiggling out from under his arm and looking in the opposite direction that the two of you are currently walking in as you glance down at the phone in your hands. “Or it’s over there on the right.” The way your voice comes out more like a mumbled whisper to yourself has Harry fighting off the urge to grab your phone out of your hand and look at the map himself, but he knows you like the feeling you get when you’re able to lead the way and take control of things.

Because most of the time it’s Harry that has a firm hold on you as he guides you through busy streets towards a restaurant he knows you love, never letting you get lost in crowded bars on a night out or swept away in what can feel like a never ending sea of people at the end of a concert he treated you to just because he felt like it. He is very aware that in this relationship he is seen as the one who makes the plans and takes the lead, and most of the time it does go that way but not on Saturdays, he lets you do it all. So sometimes that means standing at a crosswalk with his arm draped over your shoulder and being thankful that he has your very pink iced latte that’s only missing a few sips in his hand keeping him from being able to take your phone and help you, even though he so desperately wants to.

“What’s the name of the store?” He asks as you chew on your bottom lip while staring at your phone screen, when you don’t respond to him right away he moves his arm from your shoulders and reaches his hand out, his index finger resting under your chin so he can gently tilt your head up forcing you to look at him. “Sweetheart.” Your eyes meet his and he can see how flustered you’re starting to become. “What’s the name of the store?” He asks again with the same gentle tone he always tries to maintain with you, he gives you a smile as his thumb softly pulls your bottom lip out from being tucked between your teeth making your cheeks flush a light shade of pink.

“Sorry.” He just runs his thumb over your jaw as you let out a sigh. “I don’t want to give the name away because it will ruin the surprise but I could’ve sworn it was up there on-on the left but it’s…I don’t see it.” You explain to him with the smallest hint of a pout as you tell him that you’re a bit confused at where exactly the store is located.

Before you can really get caught up in the swirling whirlpool of thoughts that will have your eyes turning glassy and your cheeks damp with tears Harry takes a quick look around to see if for some reason anything might stick out to him as somewhere you’d want to go with him. The moment he realizes what street you’ve had him walking down after stopping for coffee a good twenty minutes ago he knows exactly where it is you’re wanting to go and exactly how to get there. Harry looks back down at you and gives you a reassuring smile before he leans down and places a kiss to your forehead, he cups your cheek with his hand and feels you instantly melt into his touch.

“It’s two blocks up on the right.” He says with a smile making a grin slowly work its way across your face as you bring your hands up and grab the sides of his face and pull him down for a quick kiss that leaves him chuckling to himself when you pull away and turn so you’re now facing the correct way. Harry nearly feels his heart drop when he watches you not even stop to look before lifting your foot to take a step off the curb to cross the street, he instantly reaches out and grabs your elbow making you stop mid step and in one swift movement he’s pulling you back towards him and has you safely tucked under his arm.

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack or something?” He tries to make his voice sound playful as he pulls you further into his side, not wanting to let you in on the way his heart is pounding in his chest. “You have to wait for the signal baby. We’ve been over this remember?” He reminds you, all you do is nod your head and rest your cheek on his chest as the two of you stand and wait for the signal to change.

“I just got a little excited.”

“I know.” He says with a chuckle as the signal changes and the two of you cross the street, the skirt of your dress getting caught in the early autumn breeze causes you to let out a quiet laugh as the movement makes the fabric tickle your shins.

The sound makes Harry look down at you just long enough for an amused smile to form on his face at how odd of a pair the two of you might seem to the random people walking by. You give off a very energetic and bubbly aura that is only enhanced by your bright yellow dress that you paired with an oversized pink cardigan while Harry’s simple jeans and black long sleeved t shirt may give off a very causal vibe the total cost of the items combined is more than most people spend on rent in the city. And while his attire does sort of help him come off as less approachable than the girl under his arm, it’s his body language and the way he carries himself that give away his true desire of not wanting to be bothered by anyone, minus the bubbly girl currently tucked into his side.

He slides his sunglasses back down over his eyes not letting anyone know where he’s actually looking which is directly in front of the two of you so he can make sure you don’t step into any puddles or that people aren’t getting too close, his hand that’s holding your drink is down by his side while his other arm is over your shoulders with his hand securely on the outside of your arm keeping you exactly where he wants you, his mouth is set in a hard line but the corners of it twitches every now and then when you let out a giggle as you tell him a story about something that happened at work the other day and it’s all of these things combined that let everyone in on the fact Harry doesn’t want to be spoken to or looked at by anyone other than you. It’s as if everyone in the city knows this about Harry or can feel his presence from a block away so they move out of his path and give the two of you as much space as possible on the crowded sidewalks.

Harry doesn’t mind if the world views him as grumpy and a bit mean because it keeps people at a respectable distance away from him, and in turn it keeps them away from you as well and in Harry’s mind the fewer people around means the fewer chances of someone causing you any unpleasantness. Your happiness has been and always will be a priority to him, even if it means he has to put work things on hold once a week to make sure you get all his attention, he doesn’t mind. He already has what seems like an endless supply of money but what he doesn’t have an endless amount of is time, more specifically time to spend with you. It took him thirty years to find you and now that he has you he isn’t about to let any moments go to waste by not spending them with you while he has the chance.

Harry can feel you practically buzzing with excitement as the two of you get closer to a store he hasn’t been to in almost two years yet he passes almost everyday on his way home from the office. It’s a place that holds a very special memory for the two of you and he’s a little shocked it took you this long to bring him back, but he figures if you waited this long then there must be a reason why you’re suddenly bringing him here now. He gives you a little squeeze as the front of the bookstore comes into view, the very bookstore he just so happened to pop into one day after work only mere minutes before you walked through the door with a smile on your face that even back then had his heart beginning to defrost and feel as if it could possibly learn to love someone again.

That someone being you.

“It still looks the same.” You say with a dreamy sigh as you pause to stand outside the store and take a good look at it. “It’s been exactly two years since you stared at me from across the store while I was looking for a book about plants.” Harry lets out a playful scoff as you rest your cheek on his chest, understanding now why you took him here today of all days, it’s the two year anniversary of the day you met.

“I was not staring at you baby I was just-taking you in that’s all and if I remember correctly you were looking for a book about indoor plants and how to keep them alive and happy.”

“Taking me in? Like I was some sort of painting that you needed a moment to look over and decide if you liked it or not?” Harry slides his sunglasses off and hooks them into the collar of his shirt as you tilt your head to look up at him, his eyes finding yours instantly.

“I didn’t need to decide if I liked you or not…I already knew I did from the moment you walked in and started humming to yourself-I was drawn to you in a way that made my eyes unable to take themselves off of you.” He explains making your cheeks get pink, he smiles when you try to hide your face in your hands.

“That’s just a fancy way of saying you were staring at me.” You tease earning a chuckle out of Harry as he leans down to place a kiss to the top of your head.

“Fine you win.” You let out a giggle as he starts to walk the two of you towards the door. “I was staring.” He admits before dropping his arm from around your shoulders so he can open the door for you and he takes the opportunity of you being distracted by the books and fancy journals to toss your forgotten about latte into the trash before following you inside.

As soon as he steps inside the store Harry is flooded with the same feeling he got the very first time he walked in two years ago. He didn’t need a book or anything book related back then, he had just randomly decided to walk home instead of calling for his car and something about the store made him stop and look in the window, a leather bound journal catching his eye is what originally made him walk inside causing the bell above the door to jingle. But now he knows the journal was just the universes clever way of getting him exactly where he needed to be in order to watch you walk in a few minutes later, your bright and cheery demeanor making the corners of his mouth twitch as if he was fighting off a smile and that had him automatically following you with his eyes because he had never seen someone so enthusiastic about books all about plants.

“Hard to believe it’s been so long since I’ve been in here.” Harry says with a sigh as he runs a hand through his hair, you look at him with a smile as he steps so he’s standing behind you in the cooking section of the store.

“I’m shocked you don’t come in here all the time…you work just up the street.” You tell him as your eyes scan the titles of various cook books, Harry just shrugs as he places his hands on top of your shoulders.

“I guess I don’t come in here anymore because I got everything I needed the last time I was here.” It’s how casual he says the words and gives the tops of your shoulders a squeeze that have you pausing as you reach to grab a book about baking.

“Are-do you mean me?” Your eyes are wide as you turn around so you can face him, his hands move from your shoulders to the sides of your face as your bottom lip starts to wobble. “I’m…I’m everything you need?” You ask softly and all Harry can do is nod and lean down to place a kiss to your forehead.

“Yes love.” He answers with a smile. “You…are my everything.” You let out a shaky breath as his thumbs gently run along your cheekbones.

“Stop trying to make me cry.” You give his chest a very light swat with your hands making Harry laugh. “It’s not nice.” You pout as Harry leans down to bump his nose into yours before placing a very quick kiss to your lips.

“Sorry baby I’ll be on my best behavior from now on.” He promises as he lets go of your face, you playfully roll your eyes as you turn around to go back to looking at the cook books.

“I remember I was so nervous when you walked over to me.” Harry quirks a brow as he rubs at the back of your neck as you reach for the book about baking you were looking at a few moments ago. “You just looked…so put together and sort of intimidating with your suit and briefcase with your initials on it but then you smiled at me and I remember thinking that a man who has dimples and bright green eyes can’t be that scary.” You continue as you look through the book, stopping at a page that explains how to make an apple tart. “And I was right..you’re not scary at all.” Harry has to hold off a laugh as you tell him you think the opposite of what everyone else does of him, not that he actively tries to be seen as scary he just knows he has a presence about him that makes others shy away from him.

“Would I have been less intimidating without the suit and briefcase?” He asks jokingly as he reaches with his free hand that’s not soothingly rubbing at your neck over your shoulder to grab a book about the art of smoothie making.

“I don’t think so. The suit made sense for why you just seemed so serious…like you didn’t have time to waste on silly things yet there you were browsing the journal section for something that you said you didn’t really need…but ending up getting because I convinced you that the thoughts and ideas in your head deserved to be written down in something beautiful.” Your voice is light and soft as usual and it has Harry looking down at you as your finger follows the words of the recipe you’re reading, and it’s then that he realizes that the whole time he’s been trying to be a place for you to feel peace and happiness away from the cruelties of the world, you’ve been doing the same for him. Giving him the space to be soft and truly let go of all the stress of work and life that builds up throughout the week, letting him feel like it’s okay to have emotions and showing them isn’t a weakness.

“You’re good at talking me into things.” He watches a slow smile take over your face as you turn the page of your book. “I love you.” He whispers in your ear before placing a kiss to the spot just below it.

“I love you too Harry.” He smiles as you turn your head and look at the book in his hand. “Oh god not more smoothie I-I really am not going to be your test subject for those things anymore they always taste like grass.” You tell him with a soft groan as the memory of the last smoothie he made you try fills your mind.

“But sweetheart this book will help me make them so they won’t taste like grass.” He argues as you place your baking book under your arm so you can grab the smoothie one from his grasp. “It even has a few recipes for coffee-”

“Oh you can make me cute little blended coffees!” Your sudden excitement over this new found information has Harry letting out a chuckle as your face lights up as you look over a coffee recipe. “We are so getting this.” You inform him with a nod as you close the book and hold it out for him to take.

Harry just smiles as he subtly slips the book about baking out of your hold and puts it on top of his smoothie book, all while you’re too busy looking over a cook book that’s dedicated to all things pasta. When he looks around the store he notices a man looking at you from the end of the aisle, and when he watches the man’s eyes travel from the side of your face down to your shoes Harry feels as if his blood is hitting a boiling point because why does this man think it’s okay to look at you like that, or at all really. Not wanting to cause any soft of scene and toss the man onto the sidewalk after knocking some sense into him he decides to do the next best thing, let him know he’s been caught checking out his girlfriend right in front of him. So as you make your way down the aisle looking over a few books that catch your eye Harry is quick to take a step so he’s standing next to you, blocking the man’s view of you completely. He places his arm over your shoulder and clears his throat a bit loudly making the man’s eyes snap up to meet his and the look Harry sends him has the man quickly backing away with a look of embarrassment mixed with the smallest bit of fear on his reddened face.

“Can we go to that bakery you buy my birthday cakes from? I really want a cupcake.” You ask with a hopeful smile, and even though he knows it’s just all the books about baking that are sitting in front of you that has you craving something that you will more than likely take two bites of and push it to the side, he still just nods as he pulls you into his side so he can press his lips to your temple.

Everyone looked at you like you were out of your mind when you told them of your plans to spend the holidays off in a cozy little cabin in the woods all by yourself, far away from anyone or anything that could cause you even an ounce of stress. They couldn’t understand why you’d want to be surrounded by nothing but trees and the peaceful quietness that comes with being out of range of any reliable cell service, allowing you to be completely unbothered by the seemingly never ending dinging of notifications making you aware of an upcoming project deadline. Or the fact one of your friends has posted a new photo of video of themselves resulting in the unwanted spiral of comparing your life to theirs, forcing you to sit in the misery of your own thoughts that always leave you questioning if your life will ever be as exciting as theirs or if you’re doomed to be a boring workaholic forever.

Making the choice to take five days to yourself wasn’t an easy one, you don’t like making people feel like you’re abandoning them especially around one of the more stressful parts of the year. But it was a decision you made out of necessity because if you had to spend another holiday leaning over your laptop downing coffee just to keep your eyes open a little longer so you could finish a group marketing project that somehow turned into a solo project you’d end up cracking like an egg, your sanity oozing out like yolk until you end up turning into an empty shell of yourself that you can’t recognize anymore. So as soon as you got the email letting you know your time off was approved you wasted no time in grabbing your packed bags and hoping on the flight you pre-booked, because you had already decided you were going on this trip either as a much needed and well deserved break from your job or as a reset after quitting if they had rejected your request because for once you’re really determined to put yourself first even if your work refused to let you.

The smile hasn’t left your face since you climbed out of the little truck you picked up at the rental kiosk at the airport, the nice young man assuring you it was perfect for driving uphill and in the snow and wouldn’t give you any issues minus the fact the air conditioning doesn’t work but it being the middle of winter you didn’t mind that minor defect. Once you walk up the three steps to the front porch you drop your bag by your feet so you can dig around in your purse for the instructions on how to get into the cabin that you wrote down, your brows pinch together as you pull out the pink post it note and try to decipher your own sloppy handwriting. You hold the small square piece of paper in your left hand, bringing it closer to your face while using your right one to type in the code you have written down next to the words “front door”.

“Okay so now just press enter and-” your mouth drops into a frown when you twist the knob and nothing happens. “Is that a three or a five? Let’s try a five…” the sound of a beep and the lock turning has a giddy sort of excitement rushing through you as you twist the knob and push the heavy wooden door open.

The moment you step through the threshold you can feel the stress of the world melting away as the subtle scent of cedar with a hint of cinnamon surrounds you like a hug, wrapping you in a warmth that feels similar to the coziness you get from the red and blue worn out flannel you pull out of your closet when you’re craving a strong sense of comfort. You close your eyes and drop your arms down to your sides before you take in a deep breath and slowly release it. As you repeat that process a few times you begin to feel more grounded, absorbing the calm and peaceful energy of the small log cabin with each deep inhale, releasing all the stress and anxieties of your life back home with each exhale. When you open your eyes you grin as you allow yourself to really look around and take in the details of the place you’ll be calling home for the next five days.

Your eyes first land on the soft worn in brown leather sofa in the living room that has a wall of windows facing the front of the property, the red and green plaid pillows add a festive touch while the giant fireplace gives it a slight romantic flare. Taking a small step into the living room you look to your right and see a sturdy looking wooden table with two chairs with green cushions that match the green in the throw pillows on the couch, with a basket holding a few apples and oranges placed perfectly in the center of it.

Once you make your way into the dining area you’re met with the kitchen, the dark wood of the cabinets matching perfectly with the wood of the table makes you smile as you reach out and place a hand on the light granite countertop that adds a small dash of brightness to the space. When you walk out of the kitchen you just poke your head into the open study that has a comfy looking loveseat in the corner opposite the wall of bookshelves that you know you’re going to end up going through eventually. It’s not until you enter the bedroom that you let yourself properly freak out plopping down face first on the queen sized bed with a squeal of pure delight, you grab one of the pillows and hug it to your chest as you roll over onto your back so you’re facing the ceiling fan.

“It’s perfect.” You whisper with a smile as you sit up and look over your shoulder towards the door that opens up to the bathroom. You kick your shoes off before tossing the pillow back onto the bed so you can take a peek into the bathroom. “Holy shit…” you mumble as you flick on the light letting the giant clawfoot tub in the center of the room be bathed in a warm light, your hand softly grips the edge of it as you look straight ahead and into a mirror that’s above a vanity with two sinks.

“This’ll do just fine.” You tell yourself as you look over at the shower before heading back towards the front door to grab your bag so you can start unpacking and getting comfortable in your new surroundings.

After unpacking and switching out your jeans for a pair of fleece lined leggings; a tip one of your friend’s gave you when you called them in a slight panic about what to pack seeing as you’ve never been in an environment where the temperature reaches below forty degrees; you slip on your oversized white sweatshirt with pink and green ornaments printed all over it and make your way towards the kitchen. The only sound in the house is the soft smacking your fuzzy slippers make against the hard wood floor with each step you take, you smile when you reach the kitchen and find a little note attached to the fridge by a snowflake magnet.

“Hope you have a great time, enjoy your stay and happy holidays…ps there’s wine in the pantry please help yourself.” You read the note out loud, your eyes glance over to the pantry door as you place the note back on the fridge. “That’s so sweet I’m going to have to mention this in my review.” You tell yourself as you open the pantry door and immediately find the two bottles of wine.

Without even looking at the name or the type of wine it is you grab the bottle closest to you along with a package of gingerbread cookies, after placing the items on the counter you begin to open cabinets until you finally find the ones that have glasses. You purse your lips when all you see are mugs and a few glass jar type cups that you’ve seen people making their morning coffees in on TikTok, you briefly look back over at the bottle of wine and then back to your options of drink-ware. You bite down on your bottom lip as you place a hand on your hip not knowing which would be better suited for wine, a mug or a glass jar that you can tell once used to house pasta sauce based on the shape.

“This is not a life or death situation.” You remind yourself when you start to feel the prickling tingles of anxiety creeping up your spine at the fact there’s no wine glasses in the cabinet. “It doesn’t matter what we drink the wine out of-it’s not going to make it taste any different.” You tell yourself with a huff of annoyance, not at the lack of wine glasses but more so at yourself for starting to get worked up over it. “Oh this one has a snowman on it.” You say excitedly as you reach up and grab a red mug with a snowman holding a candy cane painted on the front.

You give the mug a quick wash under some hot water, not being able to help yourself since you’re not sure when the last it was washed and nothing would put a damper on your mood more than looking down and seeing weird dust particles floating around in your wine. Once it’s nice and clean you place it down next to the pack of gingerbread cookies so you can grab the wine bottle and give it a little once over, not that you really care what kind of wine it is because you’re not picky you just want something that tastes good. Not recognizing the name you just pop it open and pour a decent amount in your festive mug, smiling when you see it’s a white wine because those seem to taste a little better to you than the red ones.

You bring the mug up to your lips and take a big sip as you walk into the living room, just as you take a seat on the couch you notice an odd sound that is too soft to be rain and too quiet to be leaves hitting the roof. With quirked brows you stand up and walk over to one of the giant windows, your eyes squint and you bring a hand up to press against your cheek and the window as you lean closer to the glass trying to see outside but the pitch blackness of the night sky makes it nearly impossible to get a good look at anything other than your own reflection. You back away with a shrug as you take another sip of your drink, but then you glance over to the front door and see a switch next to it so you walk over and flip it on and in an instant the front porch is lit up and you feel your mouth drop open as you walk back to the window and see snow falling from the sky.

“Oh my god it’s snowing!” Your voice is full of childlike amazement as you stare out the window at the snow drifting down in steady swirls making everything quickly become dusted in the powdery white substance. The lights from the porch bounce off the snow giving everything an almost magical glow making a grin spread across your face as you take a moment to appreciate the beauty of nature as the once dark green and brown landscape turns into a bright and beautiful winter wonderland scene that you’ve only ever seen in movies or on postcards.

You’re not sure how long you just stare out the window but it’s long enough that you’ve moved to sitting on a throw pillow on the edge of the fireplace, and have finished two mugs of wine letting you feel the warming effects of it starting to travel up your neck to your cheeks giving them a light flush. As you take the fist sip of your third mug of wine that sadly has to be your last due to the bottle now being empty, you notice the snow has fully covered the ground as well as the front steps that lead to the porch and it has a sudden wave of excitement surging through you. After a few more sips you place the mug down next to the pillow so you can stand up and rush into the bedroom so you can find your boots and your coat, once you manage to get the boots on over your fuzzy socks, something that was more tedious than you expected, you quickly slide your arms into your coat and grab the first scarf and pair of gloves you can find.

You wrap the scarf around your neck, smiling when you notice the bright pink color and only struggle a little to get your gloves on as you stand in front of the door. You look over at your mug and silently debate with yourself if you need to bring it or not, with a shrug you walk over and grab it deciding you might as well since you’re on vacation after all and you deserve to enjoy yourself but also the activity you have planned requires some inspiration and the picture on the mug will surely come in handy. With your mug in hand you swing open the door and are instantly hit with a chilly gust of winter coldness that swirls around your ankles moving up your legs to your shoulders making a pleasant shiver run down your spine as you take your first step outside. The sound of the snow crunching under your boots as you make your way down the steps has a silly grin spreading across your face, you watch little white flecks land on your coat and almost find yourself feeling sad when you watch them turn into little wet spots before dripping off the waterproof material.

“Okay you just sit right here and look cute.” You tell your mug as you place it down on the bottom step. “Step one….make the big ball for the bottom.” You state as you look around at all the freshly fallen snow on the ground feeling as if it would be a shame to ruin the pristine winter beauty that you’re currently standing in the middle of, but you’ve never gotten a chance to build a snowman before and you’re not sure if you ever will again so in a moment of wine fueled determination you bend down and grab two handfuls of snow.

“This is way harder than people make it look…how do kids do this?” You mumble as you struggle to make a decent looking ball for the base of your snowman. “Step two….a little sippy sip of our motivation juice.” You say with a giggle as you grab your mug and take a sip of your wine. “Now the real step two is…the body.” You nod at yourself as you place the wine down after giving the snowman painted on it a good look over trying to make yours look as close to it as possible.

After a few unsuccessful attempts as making a ball that fits on top of the big one you’re using as the base you finally have the body complete and now are working on the face. You can’t help but laugh as you place the smaller ball on top and notice it’s a little lopsided once you take a step back, but you can’t be bothered to fix it because if anything you think it just adds character. You grab your mug and look at the snowman on the front and then back over to yours and realize it’s missing hands and a few other accessories that make it seem more friendly and lifelike.

“Oh you so need this.” Your words are muffled by the fabric of your bright pink shimmery scarf being unwrapped from around your neck. “Perfect now you just need some arms…” You explain as you wrap the scarf around the neck of your snowman, the fabric helping hide the lopsidedness just a smidge. Your eyes scan the area and you make a small sound of excitement when you find two twigs that will make perfect little arms for your adorable snowman. “I don’t know I feel like you’re missing something….” You tap your chin as you stand there after shoving the twigs into the sides of the ball that makes the body. As you blink a few times feeling the tiny snowflakes fall from your lashes and onto your cheeks you get hit with a realization of what your snowman is missing.

“Eyes! Duh!” Without wasting any time you turn and carefully rush up the steps and burst through the front door so you can grab your sunglasses out of your purse that’s on the counter in the kitchen. “Here…now you’re perfect.” You smile as you slide your pink and glittery sunglasses onto the snowman’s face. After a moment of looking your competed snowman over you erupt into a fit of giggles as your cloudy mind has you thinking how much your snowman resembles one of your favorite singers.

“I’ll call you Snowy Styles…since you kinda look like Harry Style but a bit shorter….and rounder.” You say between giggles while you reach for your now empty mug, you let out a small sigh of content as you look up at the sky as the snow continues to drift downwards in pretty swirls.

Your eyes catch a snowflake that seems to sparkle as it catches the light of the moon, you smile when it lands on your gloved hand that’s not holding your mug. And for some reason the beauty and slight glow of it has your eyes unable to look away and a warming sense of nostalgia surrounding you at how this time of year always held a bit of magical wonder back when you were a child. Back when work deadlines and the pointless scrolling on your phone that always leaves you with a sense of dread weren’t even on your radar, when the only issues you had to deal with were laughing so hard at silly jokes you end up with milk dribbling down your chin at the lunch table and planning who was going to host the next sleepover. So for old time sake you find yourself closing your eyes and thinking of a wish, not daring to say it out loud because even in your hazy state of mind you know that’s the fastest way to have a wish not come true.

“I wish my snowman really was Harry Styles-that would be neat.”

When you open your eyes the snowflake gets blown away with a sudden gust of wind that has you burrowing deeper into your jacket. You watch it float up and into the air until it disappears in the mix of the falling snow that has started coming down even harder since you first stepped outside. When you feel your leggings start to get little damp spots from the melted snow finally being able to penetrate the thick material you decide it might be time to head back inside.

“That’s enough outside time for one night.” You tell yourself as you turn and head up the steps, turning to give your little snowman one last look and a small wave. “Goodnight Snowy! Hopefully I’ll see you tomorrow.” You shout before opening the door and walking back into the warmth of the cabin.

You let out a small huff as the morning sun shines brightly through the window in your bedroom, hitting you right in the face making you mentally scold yourself for forgetting to close the curtains before falling asleep the night before. You squeeze your eyes closed and roll over onto your tummy but instead of being met with the warm softness of the sheets you feel as if you’ve just rolled over into a cold puddle that has a chill run down your spine all the way to your toes. Thinking maybe it’s all in your head you just roll over one more time so you’ll land on your back but halfway through the roll your shoulder comes in contact with something hard and you hear the faintest sound of a groan that you know for a fact didn’t come from you.

“Please don’t be a serial killer-please please please don’t be a serial killer.” You whisper to yourself as you prepare to open your eyes but before you even attempt to peek one open you feel the solid mass move letting your shoulder hit the damp sheets and a sleepy sounding sigh hits your ears followed by a voice you’ve only ever heard on the radio or your television.

“M’not a bloody serial killer but that might change if you don’t stop with the mumbling.” The deep sleep filled voice groans making you snap your eyes open and before you can process what you’re doing you let out a shriek and all but fall off the bed in your mad dash to create some distance between you and the slightly soggy popstar in your bed.

“How-why-what the hell is going on?” Your eyes are the size of golf balls as you stand there and watch a very disoriented and half naked Harry Styles slowly crack open his eyes and sit up.

“This….isn’t my bedroom.” You just shake your head no as he turns his head to look over at you with the most confused expression you’ve ever seen on someone’s face. “Who are y-why am I wet?” He asks as he looks down at the red sheets that are very obviously darker on his side of the bed due to his dampness that’s as if he just got out of the shower and jumped straight into bed without drying off in the slightest. “Why…why am I naked?” His voice is low as he looks around for any signs of his belongings his brows furrow when he looks over at the nightstand on his side of the bed and finds a pair of pink glittery sunglasses, he reaches over for them and you feel your mouth drop open when he holds them out towards you.

“Those are Snowy’s….did you steal my snowman’s sunglasses?”

“What? No I didn’t steal his sunglasses I don’t even know you or….Snowy.”

“How’d you get them then?” You ask as you place your hands on your hips, Harry just rolls his eyes as he grabs a pink shimmery piece of cloth that’s hanging off his side of the bed.

“That’s his scarf….”

“You put sunglasses and a scarf on your snowman? Those are items used in two totally different climates.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means you don’t need sunglasses at the same time you need a scarf.”

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Says the person who named her snowman Snowy…” He snaps as he gathers the sheets around his waist so he can slide off the bed without exposing himself to you. “Now can you do me a favor and tell me where we are and how exactly I got here?” You try to not let the sight of Harry’s bare chest and muscular arms distract you from the fact he just called Snowy’s name dumb, but in your foolishness you let your eyes meet his and even though they are set in a glare you can’t help but get caught up in the brightness of them.

“Col-Colorado and uhm I-I don’t know how you got here or why you’re naked and uh….wet.” You answer honestly, this makes Harry just slowly nod his head as his grip on the sheets tighten making your eyes glance down to his hands that look surprisingly bigger without any rings on them.

“Colorado? I guess there’s worst places to be taken when kidnapped.”

“I didn’t kidnap you-you’re the only who showed up in my bed uninvited.”

“Trust me love I don’t need to crash people’s bedrooms I have plenty of open invitations if I’m ever feeling lonely.” The smugness of his voice has your face morphing into one of slight disgust but Harry just ignores it as he looks around for the bathroom. “How do you expect this to work exactly? Are you going to call my manager and ask for ransom money or did you just want me to write you a check?” He asks as he turns to make his way into the bathroom.

“I don’t-I didn’t kidnap you.” You tell him with an annoyed huff that makes Harry roll his eyes as he stares at you with a look of disbelief.

“Okay so I’m just free to go is that right?” He watches you nod and for some reason it makes him even more confused than he already is which is saying a lot considering he really has no clue if he’s dreaming or if he really is standing naked with a red sheet wrapped around his middle while staring at a girl that he not only doesn’t know the name of but has never met before.

“Yes-you can leave whenever you want.” You answer as you motion towards your bedroom door that’s open just enough for you to see the painting of a wilderness scene that’s hung in the hallway.

“You’re the absolute worst kidnapper on the planet.” With that he walks fully into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind him.

“I didn’t kidnap-” your sentence gets cut off by the bathroom door unlocking and Harry poking his head out into the bedroom.

“Where are my clothes? Surely I didn’t travel here in the nude?” He asks with annoyance evident in his tone, you just stare at him and then look over at his side of the bed that has a wet imprint of where he was laying but it’s not until you look at the sunglasses and scarf that your mind suddenly remembers what you wished for last night.

“No fucking way.” Harry watches you rush over to the window and when you let out a gasp and slap a hand over your mouth he almost lets his curiosity get the better of him but then he remembers he is currently naked so he stays put, partially hidden behind the bathroom door. “Snowy is gone.” You tell him as you turn and place a hand on your forehead. “He’s gone and and-you’re here but he’s…he’s gone.”

“Snowy the….snowman….is missing?” He asks trying to piece the information together so it can help him understand how he ended up in a little cabin in Colorado. “And that has something to do with…me?”

“Yes I-I’ve never made a snowman before and I was…well I had some wine and gave it a scarf and some sunglasses…then named it Snowy Styles and-and I might’ve wished that my snowman really was you when a snowflake landed on my glove and now you-you’re here and…Snowy is…gone.”

“Oh how lovely I’ve been kidnapped by an insane person…this day is just getting better and better.” You glare at him as you drop your hands to your sides while he just closes the bathroom door again.

In a moment of kindness or maybe a moment of desperation to get the international superstar to stop being so grouchy you walk over to the closet and dig around for the pair of black sweatpants you normally wear on your most laziest and coziest of days due to how worn in and comfortable they are. While in the closet you also grab an oversized t shirt and a pair of socks, after folding and placing the items neatly into a stack you put them by the bathroom door. Swallowing down your nerves and slight annoyance with the man behind the door you give it a soft knock before stepping away.

“I uhm left some clothes for you so uh you don’t have to be n-naked any-anymore.” You hear some shuffling from behind the door and decide it might be best if you just give him some space so you turn and head into the kitchen so you can make some coffee and come up with an answer to the burning question that’s at the forefront of your mind, are you dreaming or is Harry Styles really naked in your bathroom?

“Someone had quite the party last night.” Harry’s voice coming from behind where you’re standing in the kitchen making a pot of coffee makes you let out a startled squeak as a hand flies up to your chest causing Harry to stare at you with a raised brow.

“Sorry I-I kinda forgot you were here.” You explain making him roll his eyes as he walks into the kitchen and grabs the package of gingerbread cookies off the counter next to the empty bottle of wine.

“I leave you alone for five minutes and you’ve already forgotten about me?” You watch him open the package of cookies, a frown forming on his face when he realizes he’s empty. “Why do you have these out if there’s none left? Do you not have a bin in this tiny cabin of torture?” You glare at him as you reach out and snatch the empty box from his hands.

“It was next to an empty bottle of wine….I don’t know why you’d think there were any cookies in it.” This explanation has Harry looking at you as if you’re speaking a completely different language. “What? It’s called context clues….”

“Context clues really? So I’m supposed to assume that anything next to an empty bottle of wine is also empty?”

“Well you shouldn’t ever assume anything…but you can make an educated guess that if there’s a box of cookies next to an empty bottle of wine there’s a good chance the box is also going to be empty.”

“That makes zero logical sense.” He says flatly as he starts opening up cabinets in search of a mug. “But I forget I’m talking to a woman who thinks I’m her snowman.” He mumbles just loud enough for you to hear making you let out an annoyed huff as you tell him your name, Harry turns his head to look at you and the look on his face is one that makes you think he’s deciding on if he likes your name or not. “That’s not a very common kidnapper name.”

“That’s because I didn’t kidnap you.” You explain for what feels like the hundredth time as you walk over and open the cabinet right in front of him allowing him to be face to face with the glassware.

“Okay so you didn’t kidnap me but you really think I’m your snowman? If that’s true am I going to melt soon or something?” He asks with a chuckle as he grabs a mug in the shape of a gingerbread man.

“I don’t know if you’re my snowman or if maybe I’m-I’m just in a very deep sleep and this is all a dream.” You say with a shrug as you turn your attention to the pot of coffee behind you. “If this is a dream you won’t melt because that would be really traumatizing watching someone I-watching you melt.” Harry looks at you sideways as you pour some of the hot brown liquid into a mug that has snowflakes all over it, noticing the slight blush that’s taking over your cheeks.

“Do you dream of me often?” He asks teasingly as he scoots down so his arm is almost brushing against yours that’s still covered by the sweatshirt you wore last night, having just plopped down and fallen asleep on the bed after coming inside once you got done building Snowy.

“Not really I usually dream of Niall.” Harry feels his mouth drop into a scowl as you quickly move away from him so you can open the fridge.

“Right well then why did you name your snowman after me and not him?” You just shrug as Harry turns so his back is leaning against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches you pour some creamer into your mug before placing it back in the fridge.

“Because he was a cute snowman…so Styles just fit better.” Harry has to fight off the urge to let out a scoff but before he can even think of a proper response you’re walking out of the kitchen. “I uhm am going to go take a shower but…feel free to uh do whatever you want.”

“You mean leave?”

“Yes…because I didn’t kidnap you remember?” You answer with a sigh that makes Harry roll his eyes before turning around and going back to fixing his coffee while you head off towards the bedroom to get some much needed time to yourself so you can really come to a conclusion about if this is just an elaborate dream or if you’ve finally cracked under all the pressure of work and life that you really believe that somehow your snowman magically turned into a real person.

Harry is lounging on the sofa with his feet resting on the coffee table when you walk out of the bedroom an hour and a half later, you adjust your green sweatshirt that has a reindeer holding a candy cane embroidered on the front of it as you walk into the living room. You can tell he’s upset, the frown on his face and the way his brows are pinched together do very little to hide his emotions but you can’t really be bothered to care what’s wrong with him because you’re too busy trying to process the fact he’s still here and not miles away headed to the airport already. Feeling your eyes on him Harry turns his head in your direction, instantly his whole face changes from a dramatic frown to a small smile that you think is genuine until he starts laughing.

“Is all you own silly little jumpers and leggings?” He asks as he eyes you up and down for a second time.

“I packed for comfort not for fashion and besides there’s nothing wrong with cute sweatshirts and leggings.” You tell him in an attempt to defend your wardrobe but Harry just rubs his lips together and gives you a slow condescending nod.

“I’d expect nothing less from a woman who wanted to spend the holiday’s alone in a cabin that’s as big as my closet.” Harry’s tone makes you want to walk over to him and smack him but you hold off and make a beeline for the kitchen, needing to create some distance between you and the disgruntled popstar that’s currently hogging your sofa.

“Why are you still here?” You ask as you make your way past him, he turns his body so he can face you from his spot on the sofa. “I thought you’d be long gone by-”

“I have no phone to call for a ride and no wallet to buy a plane ticket but also….I don’t know what kind of snowman magic spell you casted last night but-” You watch him get up from the couch and walk over to the front door so he can pull it open. “There’s about five feet of snow covering…..well everything.” He explains as he gestures to the snow outside the door.

For a moment you let yourself believe that Harry’s just being dramatic so you slowly make your way over to him, expecting to find just a few fluffy inches of the white powdery substance but what you’re met with has your eyes widening and your mouth dropping open. Harry rolls his eyes as he leans against the door, keeping it open so you can take in the scene in front of you. Your brain can’t seem to comprehend what you’re looking at because the little truck you picked up at the airport that you parked only a few feet away form the front steps can’t even be seen due to the large amount of snow covering it and the surrounding area, the front steps are almost non existent due to the large amount of snow that’s accumulated on the ground that’s nearly as tall as the porch leaving only the top step left uncovered. While you know Harry is only showing you this to explain why he’s in such a sour mood you can’t help but smile at how beautiful everything looks blanketed in a soft twinkling glow.

“It’s so-”

“It’s so annoying is what it is because now I’m stuck here until it melts or they come plow it.” You look at him confused as he lets the door close making the corners of your mouth droop just a bit as he heads back into the living room.

“Plow? Like-like a snow plow? They’ll come and do that? You don’t have to call and ask them to?” You ask confused as to why someone would think to come plow the road for you when you’re just in a rental cabin in the middle of nowhere.

“I can’t believe I’m stuck in this cabin of curiosities with someone who doesn’t even know how a snow plow functions.” He mumbles as he plops back down onto the couch with his arms crossed over his chest. “It’s like you’ve never dealt with snow before.”

“I haven’t.” Harry’s head snaps so he’s looking directly at you and he almost feels bad for his words as he watches you stand in front of the window so you can stare at the snow outside. “This is my first time being in snow that-that’s why I made the snowman because I never got the chance to do anything like that before.” Your voice is light and has a bubbly undertone to it that has Harry wanting to smile because he remembers how excited he was the first time he made his fist snowman and how much fun he had with his friend’s playing in the snow, but then Harry gets hit with a twinge of sadness over the fact you had to experience all of that by yourself as an adult.

“Well clearly your first attempt at a snowman didn’t go so well because he ran off in the middle of the night.” He doesn’t know why he lets the words slip out of his mouth it’s as if he can’t seem to help himself and it has him feeling like he’s not in control of his body because normally he wouldn’t be this snarky with someone he just properly got introduced to a few hours ago. He watches as your shoulders slump just the tiniest bit as you continue to stare out the window but he doesn’t say or do anything, not until he sees you fold your arms over yourself as if you’re trying to get warm or give yourself a hug, either way it has Harry letting out a deep sigh and getting up off the couch.

As he walks into the small kitchen he glances over to check your whereabouts and of course you’re still just gazing out the window in some snow induced trance so Harry takes advantage of you being distracted and walks over to the pantry. When he opens it up he quickly scans the items on every shelf, smiling to himself when he lands on a container of hot chocolate mix. After grabbing it he looks around for a kettle because surely even this tiny cabin of annoyance must have a kettle but to his dismay all he can find is a singular pot and a few baking dishes.

“This truly is the worst cabin in the world.” He quietly mumbles as he places the mix on the counter so he can fill the pot with water and place it on the stove. While waiting for the water to boil he adjusts the shirt you gave him, fighting off the urge to roll his eyes at the faded image of a Christmas tree that’s on the front he just gives the hem a tug hoping it’ll help the material stretch out enough to cover the sliver of skin that’s visible above the waistband of the sweatpants you let him borrow. His attempts end up being useless as the shirt just keeps bouncing back up letting the black ink on his hips be the tiniest bit visible, he lets out a huff as he looks over at the pot just to see the water hasn’t started boiling yet.

“For fuck sake can you just start bubbling already?” He says growing more impatient with each passing second that he stands there and watches the water do absolutely nothing.

“It would work better if you turned the burner on.” Harry jumps at the sound of your voice making you laugh as you walk up to the stove and reach over to the knob and turn it to high. “Oh is that hot chocolate?” You ask with an excited smile as your eyes find the container he placed on the small counter next to the stove.

“That’s what the container says it is but it’s never wise to assume things.” He swears he meant to sound like he was joking, a light tease to remind you of how you got on to him earlier for assuming things but his tone is far more snippy than it is joking and Harry watches the excitement leave your face as you back away from the stove.

You don’t say anything as you walk back into the living room and Harry wants to smack himself for being so rude to you when in all honesty you appear to be just as confused about this whole situation as he is but he swears there’s just something about you that has him acting in a way he normally wouldn’t. He walks over to the dinning area so he can see where you’ve walked off to and of course he should’ve known you’d be planted on the edge of the fireplace looking out the window. With your attention elsewhere he takes this opportunity to really get a good look at you, he already knew you were pretty because he found himself having a hard time tearing his eyes away from your face when he was getting accused of stealing your snowman’s accessories, but as the hazy glow of the sun that’s being trapped behind a cluster of clouds hits your face he thinks you might be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

He swallows thickly as his eyes make their way down your neck to your chest that has him licking his lips at the fullness he can tell is there and he wants to know why you keep yourself hidden under such oversized sweatshirts but his thoughts quickly go from curious to borderline inappropriate as his eyes travel to your hips and thighs. His top teeth sink into his bottom lip as his hands flex down as his sides almost as if they’re itching to get ahold of the plushness of your body that he knows would feel incredible pressed up against his. Harry swears that whatever view you’re looking at outside the window doesn’t hold a candle to the one he has of you right now, it’s like you want him to see every curve as you stand up and lean into the window as if you’re trying to get a better look at something, the mouthwatering way your leggings cling to you has Harry’s mind turning fuzzy as his eyes feast on his unobstructed view of your backside.

“Fuck.” He says with a sigh, finally looking away from you and down at his hands that are now white knuckling the edge of the counter. “Get it together.” He whispers as he closes his eyes and tries to get rid of the filthy images that are dancing around in his head that all involve you. Thankfully the sound of the water finally coming to a boil gives him something else to focus on as he opens his eyes and reaches for the cabinet that has the mugs. Not looking at the directions for how many spoonfuls of mix he should use he decides to just go with what feels right and ends up plopping two heaping spoonfuls into each mug before adding the boiling water.

After giving each mug a decent stir he slowly makes his way into the living room, hoping that just maybe this will be seen as a peace offering because he really hates seeing your smile fade and the light nearly leave your eyes every time he says something rude. He softly clears his throat as he approaches where you’re standing in front of the window, he gives you a smile when you turn your head to look at him over your shoulder, enjoying the way your face lights up when you see two mugs in his hands. Without hesitating Harry offers you the mug that has candy canes all over it leaving the one with a star on it for himself.

“Thank you.” You tell him sweetly as you turn so you’re facing him, Harry just gives you a nod as he tries not to focus on how soft your fingers felt brushing his when you took the mug from him.

“I made it with water because I wasn’t sure if you have a uhm dairy thing so better safe than sorry.”

“A dairy thing? Like an allergy?”

“Yes or an aversion to diary? I know some people prefer oat or uh almond milk you know- that sort of thing.”

“Oh right-I don’t really mind what kind of milk I drink as long as it tastes good.” You explain and Harry wants to laugh at how absurd he feels talking to you about different types of milk. His eyes find yours as you bring the mug up to your lips, giving the steaming liquid a few blows to help cool it down before taking a sip of it and the way your face scrunches up has him on the verge of panicking.

“What? Is it that bad?” He asks as you try your hardest to swallow the sip in your mouth but to yours and Harry’s horror you not so gracefully spit it back into your mug making you have to wipe your chin with the sleeve of your sweatshirt. Before you can open your mouth to apologize Harry is daring a sip of the liquid in his own mug and as soon as it hits his tongue he immediately regrets his decision.

“That’s disgusting.” Harry says after forcing himself to swallow it down. “Why is it so horrible?” He asks as he eyes the brown liquid in his mug suspiciously.

“I think it’s sugar free.” You answer with a laugh as you watch Harry glare at the mug in his hand.

“Sugar free hot chocolate? What kind of house of holiday horrors did you bring me to?” You just shrug as he looks at you with a furrowed brow.

“I didn’t bring you here you just…showed up.” You remind him as you walk around him so you can go wash your mug in the kitchen sink.

“Ah okay so we’ve officially taken kidnapping off the table then?” He asks as he follows behind you. “So that leaves us with two options I am somehow your snowman turned to life or-”

“That’s the only option.” Harry gives you a questioning look as you grab his mug out of his hands so you can clean them both at the same time.

“How is that now the only option?” He questions as he leans his hip against the counter next to the sink, the closeness letting him get a soft whiff of the vanilla body wash you must’ve used in the shoulder earlier.

“Because if this was a dream you’d be a whole lot nicer.” You don’t look at him as you speak, your eyes stay glued on the mugs in your hands that you’re rinsing out with warm water and some dish soap. It’s in this moment that Harry gets hit with just how truly awful he’s been acting towards you and it has his insides twisting up and his heart dropping. “But I know it’s also not logical to think that a wish I made on a silly little snowflake brought you here.” You add after a moment of silence and before he can stop himself Harry just nods and pushes off the counter and heads for the living room but not before opening his mouth and saying something he doesn’t mean.

“Nothing about you makes any logical sense so honestly that’s probably the best option to go with.”

The rest of the day is spent with Harry making a point to be as far away from you as possible, not wanting to have to worry about accidentally saying or doing anything wrong he thinks it’s for the best to keep a healthy amount of distance between the two of you. But then it starts to get darker outside and you’ve just finished cleaning up after making dinner that consisted of grilled cheeses and some soup and you’re looking around as if you’re not quite sure what to do next so you walk over to the pantry and grab the second bottle of wine. Harry can hear you clinking around in the kitchen from his spot on the sofa but he doesn’t look or more so he tries to make it seem less obvious that he’s dying to turn his head to catch a glance of you he hears your socks shuffle towards the living room.

“D-do you want a uhm mug of wine?” Your voice is quiet as you walk into the living room with two mugs and the wine in your hands. Harry allows himself to look over at you as you walk around the sofa so you’re standing just one couch cushion away from him. “I don’t know what kind it is but it was a gift from the owner.” You explain with an awkward laugh as you hold the bottle out for Harry to see, you watch his eyes squint as he tries to read the label on the bottle but after a few moments you feel your cheeks get hot when he reaches over and turns the bottle in your hand letting him get a clear view of the label instead of the half view he was getting.

“It’s a red wine.” He tells you and your face twists up in a sour expression making him raise a brow. “Not a fan I take it?” He asks with a chuckle as you shake your head.

“It always tastes like wood chips.” You answer as you take a look at the bottle, Harry can’t help the smile that takes over his face as you slightly purse your lips as if you’re debating on if you want to drink it or not. “But it was a gift and it would be rude not to drink it.” With that you take a seat on the cushion next to him, he grabs the bottle from you letting you get comfortable in your spot.

“Ah a twist off how fancy.” You laugh as he easily twists the top off, you hand him a mug so he can pour a bit of the bright red liquid into it. “I have a feeling this won’t taste like wood chips but it also probably won’t taste…good.” He warns as he hands you the wine filled mug, you just give him a nod of understanding as he takes the empty mug from you so he can pour himself some before placing the bottle down on the coffee table.

“So…how do you think this is whole thing works? Will you be gone when I wake up tomorrow?” You ask as you bring the mug up to your lips, Harry waits to answer your question until he watches you give the wine a sniff before taking a small fearful sip. “Oh that’s oddly very…sweet.” You tell him with a surprised look on your face as you take another sip making him smile as he gets more comfortable on the sofa.

“I don’t have the slightest clue how this works but I don’t think I’ll just vanish while you’re asleep.” He tells you honestly as you take a few more sips of wine while he just swishes his around a bit in his mug.

“I’m sorry if this is causing you any issues with work or uhm your personal life…I really didn’t mean to have you brought here by some weird snowflake magic.”

“It’s fine…I’m honestly not in that big of a rush to get home.” You nod as he finally takes a sip of wine, finding himself a little surprised at how much he enjoys the sweetness of it.

“That makes sense…seeing as you’re not really doing much these-”

“Excuse me? Did you just say I’m not doing much?” You smack a hand over your mouth while Harry gives you a playful glare that he can only hold for a few moments before he slips and starts laughing at how truly worried you look. “You’re not wrong it just sounds bad when other people say it.”

“I’m sure you’re a very busy man.”

“I don’t like the tone you’re using with me right now-I know you’re lying to me just to make me feel better.”

“I’m not lying. You’re Harry Styles…I can’t even imagine how often your phone goes off in a single day and how many things you get invited to.” Your eyes find his as you let out a sigh. “Meanwhile I get overwhelmed by the office group chat and get massive anxiety when I get e-invites to friend’s birthday parties because I worry if I’ll know anyone or if they’re just inviting me to be polite- I mean we only see each other three times a year.” As the words leave your mouth it all starts to click in Harry’s head, the reason you picked this cabin and why you’re here alone, you need time to just breathe and turn your mind off for a few days.

“Group chats are annoying as hell-I mute them the moment I’m added to one and who sends invites for parties via email? That’s tacky.” You let out a small giggle at the face of pure annoyance he makes when talking about the group chats.

“Look at that-we have something in common…we both hate group chats.” Harry laughs as you reach over and clink your mug against his.

The two of you sit in the living room for over an hour talking about random things and sipping on the bottle of wine. It’s not until you place your empty mug on the coffee table and turn your body so your facing him that he realizes he’s somehow managed to move closer to you over the course of the conversation, your knee is almost touching his thigh and you seem oblivious to it while all Harry can think about is how he can practically feel the warmth radiating off you. He’s brought out of his inner thoughts when you let out a small yawn followed by a laugh that has the corners of his lips pulling upward into a smile.

“Tired?” He asks as you stretch your arms letting him get the smallest little peek at the skin of your lower tummy when the hem of your sweatshirt rises up.

“No but…also yes? I feel like if I go lay down I’ll still be awake for another hour or so before actually falling asleep.” You adorably explain to him as you fight off another yawn making him laugh.

“Well then just go lay down and fall asleep in an hour or so.” He suggests but all that earns him is a roll of your eyes and a long dramatic sigh.

“But you’re not tired yet.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Because I’m…I’m scared that if I fall asleep first you’re going to disappear.” You admit softly.

“So you think if we fall asleep at the same time it’ll better the odds of me still being here tomorrow morning?” You just nod making Harry have to hold back a chuckle at how cute you look when you’re slightly worried about something.

“Yes.”

“And would it upset you if you woke up and I was gone?”

“Yes because I wouldn’t have gotten to say goodbye and what if you don’t even r-remember me after today like…like this is all just happening in this little cabin and the moment we leave we won’t get to keep the memories we made here.”

“I doubt I’ll ever be able to forget this no matter how many hours I spend trying but…truthfully I would also sort of be upset if I woke up tomorrow…back in my bed at home.”

“Really?”

“Don’t look so shocked…now come on-let’s go lay down and eventually fall asleep together.” Your eyes light up as Harry stands up and offers his hand out for you to take so he can help you off the couch.

“You don’t think it’s dumb?” Harry just shakes his head as you place your hand in his and with one quick tug he has you up on your feet.

“No I don’t think it’s dumb.” He answers as you look up at him, he doesn’t let go of your hand as he stares down at you with a glimmer of desire burning brightly behind the green of his eyes. “I think it’s very logical actually.” You don’t even have time to laugh at his little joke before he’s leaning down and pressing his lips against yours in a kiss that almost feels desperate, as if he’s been holding back on doing it all day.

You feel his hands everywhere, grabbing at your hips and then sliding down to squeeze your ass before moving up your sides until he’s cupping your face and titling your head upwards just enough so he can deepen the kiss. Your hands tangle into his hair as his tongue slips past your parted lips, you can taste the sweetness of the wine as he licks onto your mouth making a soft little moan bubble up from deep in your chest. Harry’s hands drop back down to your hips, pulling you into his lap as he plops back down onto the sofa making you let out a small giggle as his lips travel down the side of your neck. You smile as you hear him mumble your name but then you feel your brows furrow as the sound of your name gets louder and louder before everything goes black.

“There she is.” A deep voice whispers from beside you as you slowly start to open your eyes. “You must’ve been having quite the dream.” You feel your whole body go stiff as a pair of lips press against the side of your head, but oddly enough it’s not the fact someone is kissing you so sweetly that’s causing you to feel so panicked it’s the voice that’s floating out of the mouth that those lips belong to that has your heart hammering in your chest.

“Harry?” Your voice is full of sleep as you ready yourself to look over at the man you just had the weirdest dream about, but Harry doesn’t let you prepare yourself for long before his arms are snaking around your middle and pulling your back flush against his warm chest.

“You kept saying my name and then I think I heard something about a snowy?” He tells you with a soft chuckle, as his arms give you a small little squeeze you feel yourself relaxing and your body begins to melt into his as if its second nature to be content with the secure feeling of being wrapped up in Harry’s arms.

“I made a snowman that I named Snowy Styles.” You explain as Harry nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck.

“That’s a clever name for a snowman.”

“You-you turned into my snowman.” You mumble as Harry kisses the side of your neck, giving you a small hum in response to let you know he’s still listening. “You were very mean and-you didn’t like the cabin I booked and made fun of me for my silly sweatshirts and leggings-”

“You know I love all your cute festive jumpers baby and well you really know how much I enjoy it when you wear leggings.” He says sweetly interrupting you making you smile as his lips place a kiss just below your ear.

“It was horrible you were just so rude but then you-you sort of changed a bit and we had some wine and I was so scared you were going to be gone the next day because you were a snowman and-and then uhm well you kissed me.” Halfway through your rambling Harry moves so he’s now hovering over you and your back is pressed against the plush sheets of the bed.

“I kissed you? And you let me even though I was an absolute asshole?” He asks with a beginnings of a smirk on his face, you roll your eyes as he leans down and places a kiss to your forehead.

“I blame the wine-it was red.”

“Ah red wine does make you a bit frisky.”

“You’re the one who kissed me.” You remind him making him laugh as he bumps the tip of his nose against yours.

“Tell me sweetheart were you going to let me have my way with you?” He asks as he kisses down your jaw. “Were you going to let me make you feel so good you forget about how awful I was?” He teases as he pulls away so he can lock eyes with you and it’s not until Harry’s bright green eyes stare into yours that you finally feel like you don’t have to question if this is real or not because the way he’s looking at you has your heart swelling with how full of love it is.

“Yes.” Is all you say in response making a lopsided grin take over Harry’s face as he leans down and presses his lips against yours in a sweet kiss that has you smiling when he pulls away.

“You were really going to fuck a snowman?” He asks with a chuckle as he rolls back over so he’s laying next to you. “I mean I know you have a very wild imagination baby but that’s-that’s a new one.” You roll your eyes as he pulls you closer to him so you’re resting your head on his bare chest, your hand automatically comes up to mess with the pendant at the end of his chain.

“You weren’t a real snowman you were a human I just made a snowman that looked like you and made a wish and then…the next morning you were naked in my bed.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve woken up to me naked in your bed.” You let out a laugh as he digs his fingers into your side making him smile at the adorable sound that he’s grown quite fond of over the course of your three year relationship. “I’m sorry that dream…snowman me was such a twat.” He whispers into the top of your head before placing his lips to the side of it.

“It’s okay I still love you.” Harry smiles as you tilt your head to look up at him.

The ending of this year also meant that the lease on her current apartment was ending. Now, don’t get her wrong! Y/n doesn’t hate her roommates or anything. She’s actually incredibly close with the three girls that she’d spent the last two years living with, and considers them to be some of her closest friends.

But, as the months went by, y/n realized that a two bedroom, one bathroom flat was far too small for four girls to peacefully coexist in. They were always nagging each other to clean the dishes, fighting over who gets to shower first in their tiny bathroom. And honestly… she was getting really tired of listening to Nia (a business major) rehearse presentations at 3 AM. 

So, when y/n timidly mentioned that she was thinking about moving out, the three other girls agreed that their living situation wasn’t the most ideal, promised that they would still remain besties even if they didn’t live with each other, and began to search for their own places so that they could turn in their keys at the end of the year. 

For the first time in her life, y/n had a place of her own. And that was honestly the best thing the new year could’ve brought for her. 

+++

It’s safe to say that the first morning y/n wakes up in her new apartment is undoubtedly one the most euphoric moments she’s ever experienced.

The window facing her bed allows for the morning sun to light up her room, slowly rousing her from her slumber. She blinks her eyes open, and it takes a moment for her to fully recognize that: no, she’s not dreaming and yes, she’s actually in her new apartment!

She sits up and stretches, flexing her muscles and twisting her back until she hears the delicious sound of her spine cracking – a sign that she’d slept through the night like a baby. Glancing out the window, she notices a little bluebird perched on her balcony’s railing. 

Yes, a balcony! 

It had actually been one of the main reasons she chose this apartment building. Although it was a rather small balcony, she immediately fell in love with it. The railings were twisted and had a rustic look that reminded her of the balcony Juliet would stand on in a Shakespearian play, and it overlooked a beautiful cobblestone street. When she first saw the balcony during the apartment tour, she immediately envisioned herself spending her mornings out here with a nice cup of tea, maybe doing her assigned readings out in the fresh air. There was just enough room for y/n to make a cozy little nook for herself, with fairy lights strung around railings and fluffy pillows piled on loveseats for her to chill out on.

She scrambles out of her bed and rushes over to the window, smudging the glass with her fingertips as her palms press flat against it. The glass is ice cold to the touch and fogs up around her nose, a sign of how cold the morning air outside must be. Dressed in a pair of flowery sleep shorts and a sweatshirt with her university’s logo embroidered on the front, she’s hardly dressed appropriately – but she slides the glass door open anyway and steps out onto the balcony. She can’t help it, she’s just so excited! 

As soon as she slides the door open, the chilly air invades her senses, her lungs burning and legs prickling with goosebumps. She leans her forearms on the railing and looks at the street below, empty of any cars or people. Directly across the street from her building, she sees a small antique store, and right next to that, a cute little cafe with cartoonish snowflakes painted onto the glass windows. Dozens of other restaurants and boutiques line the street, not yet open but anticipating the rush of people that would most likely flood in within the next few hours. y/n makes a mental note to herself to text her ex-roommates and invite them to visit the coffee shop she currently had her eye on.

Yeah, maybe it was a little cold, and maybe there’s nowhere to sit, but honestly, all y/n could think about was how much she loved her brand new balcony in her brand new apartment. 

Life couldn’t get any better than this. 

+++

Harry isn't too big on New Year’s resolutions. 

You see, he’s not fond of forcing himself to do things (the more pressure he has on himself to finish something, the less he wants to do it), and he really doesn’t like dealing with the inevitable end of year disappointment that comes with not finishing what he starts. He knows the chances of him actually going through with his resolutions are quite slim, so he doesn’t find a point in establishing any.

Therefore, he really only has one goal for the upcoming year. Don’t let Thumper die.

Thumper is the love of Harry’s life. When Harry realized just how lonely living alone could get, he decided he needed a companion to love and care for. He had the fullest intentions of going to his local adoption center and befriending a little kitty like Evie (his cat back home) so that the two cats could get along when he visited his family. But, when he stepped into the adoption center and saw Thumper, tiny and frail compared to most bunnies his age, he knew he had found his new best friend.

So really, Harry’s only “resolution” is something he knows he wouldn’t be giving up on any time soon.

As he brews himself a steaming vanilla latte (with a shot of caramel cream on top), he gives Thumper a little bit of food, petting at the bunny’s furry cheeks as he nibbles some hay from his fingers. When he turns away momentarily to pour his brewed coffee into a mug, the rabbit proceeds to thump its clunky hind feet (hence the name), begging to be the center of Harry’s attention once again. 

Obviously, Harry could never ignore his bunny’s pleas for love – so he quickly picks up his mug in one hand, and, similar to the way a mother holds their newborn baby, coddles Thumper to his chest with the other. Thumper tends to get uneasy when he’s high up from the ground, usually thumping against Harry’s forearms to display his displeasure, so Harry always makes sure he’s sitting or lying down when cuddling with his bunny. Taking a seat on his pink sofa, he turns the TV on to a random news channel and gently runs his hand up and down Thumper’s back, cooing every time the fluffy bunny twitches his tiny nose with approval. 

Once Thumper is happily settled and Harry’s finished with his coffee, he places Thumper back into his comfy den and puts his dirty mug in the sink. Grabbing the watering can from right underneath, he fills the can until he has a suitable amount of water for the flowers he grows on his balcony. 

Whistling along to a happy tune (“Whistle While You Work” from Snow White), he steps onto the balcony and takes a deep lung-full of the pristine air. The sky was serene, the morning dew was fresh on the railing, and everything was at peace.

That is, until an unrecognizable voice far too energetic for the tranquil calm of the morning startles him. 

“Hi!”

Harry drops the watering can out of surprise and whirls around, yelping out a “bloody hell!” before his eyes land on a stranger.

“Who are you?” he grumbles, putting a hand on his chest to calm his pounding heart, thumping hard from the scare. 

The girl’s eyes widen, clearly not having expected to get such a reaction from her neighbor, and she carefully introduces herself, much quieter than the initial greeting she’d just given him. “Umm, I’m y/n. I just moved in.” She flashes him an apologetic smile, “Sorry for scaring you, wasn’t my intention.”

Harry looks down to assess the damage his startle caused. His watering can is on its side, laying in a puddle and steadily leaking out water, while his sock-covered feet are soaked through (one his biggest pet peeves are wet socks). 

Looking back up to the girl, he sees her nervously chewing on her lip and fiddling with the hem of her sweatshirt. She seems more scared of him than he had been of her, and very timidly makes eye contact with him, praying that he wouldn’t explode on her. 

Harry saves his breath. 

“That’s alright,” he responds as nicely as he can muster up (wet socks = grumpy Harry), picking up the watering can from the floor. He runs into his apartment, slipping on a new, dry pair of socks, refilling the watering can, and grabbing a towel to clean up his balcony. 

Y/n still has her brows furrowed in distress when he comes back outside, quickly confessing, “I really am sorry… I didn’t mean to make you jump. I was just excited to meet my new neighbor, I guess.”

He doesn’t make eye contact with her when he says, “Don’t worry about it. Everything’s okay. No need to fret,” focusing his attention, instead, on making sure the floors are dry.  

“I just moved in yesterday you know! I dunno if you saw all the boxes n’ stuff, but that was me!” Christ, was she still there? He thought she would’ve gone back inside after he gave so little attention to her.

Again, he barely looks in her direction when he responds, “I hadn’t noticed anyone was moving in.” His answer is short, clipped, and uninterested.

The girl carries on the conversation, “Yeah, I’m super excited about moving in and everything! It’s my first time living without anyone and it’s just so nice to have all this space to myself– y’know I made some cookies last night, and I was gonna bring ‘em over later today to introduce myself but since we already met I could totally bring them over–”

Harry cuts her off right there. “Don’t put yourself through the trouble,” he says tersely, sparing her one final glance before walking back into his apartment. 

He holds eye contact with her as he slides the balcony door shut. 

+++

Y/n’s positive she’s made her neighbor hate her.

She’s drinking coffee with her ex-roommates, Sameera, Savanna, and Nia, at the coffee shop she saw earlier that morning from her balcony window, explaining her conundrum.

“I just don’t know what to do! I didn’t do anything to make him hate me. I mean, except for balcony thing, but obviously I didn’t mean to scare him! He wouldn’t even look at me!”

She tried to make things up to him, greeting him calmly on the balcony the next time they were out there at the same time, but only managed to get the grimest acknowledgement from him. He avoided eye contact with her whenever they passed each other in the hallways, would shut his door if he ever saw her coming out at the same time as him, and would stay silent if they ever got caught in the elevator together. 

He hates her, she’s sure of it. 

At this point, she’s honestly just given up, opting to just sit with her mug and book silently when he watered his plants on the balcony each morning. Far better than the hurt she’d feel when he’d inevitably ignore her if she tried to make small talk again.   

“Maybe he’s got a fragile sense of masculinity and is embarrassed that he got scared by a girl,” Nia says, taking a bite of her croissant, “so now he can’t face you anymore.” 

Sameera adds on to that, “Or he’s intimidated by you. Is he ugly? Ugly guys tend to be intimidated by pretty girls.”

Y/n is quick to deny this with a furrow in her brows. “Oh, but he’s not! He was really cute,” she pouts. Considering his reluctance to make eye contact with her during their short conversation, y/n had plenty of time to unabashedly admire her next door neighbor. He had chocolate brown hair, swept atop his head in messy waves and bright green eyes that glimmered in the dreary, gray morning weather. And though he had an intimidating demeanor, with his short attitude and furrowed brows, the fact that he was wrapped up in a fuzzy, lavender sweatshirt made him ever so endearing to her. 

Call her crazy, but she has a bit of a crush. 

“What’s his name?” asks Savanna, chiming into the conversation for the first time. 

Y/n has to think for a moment before she responds. “I don’t think he even told me! I just said hey and he walked away from me!” She sits back and crosses her arms, huffing sadly, “Maybe this is a sign from the universe that I should just stay away from boys in general.”

“Don’t say that!” Savanna defends, “You’re beautiful and a total sweetheart. Nia’s right, he probably just has a bruised ego for now. Just be yourself and I’m sure he’ll come around.”

+++

Being herself doesn’t work.

Yesterday, when she’d clearly been running with all of her groceries to catch the elevator, he made direct eye contact with her as the doors shut. Made no effort to hold the elevator for her. Just watched her struggle with her groceries as the elevators closed.

Y/n accepts the fact that he’s probably not going to come around.

+++

It’s 10 PM on a Tuesday night when someone comes frantically knocking on y/n’s door.

She’d just been painting in her living room (a casual hobby of hers), dressed in a pair of dark blue, denim overalls splattered with paint, when out of nowhere someone was at her door, knocking as if they were in a life or death situation. 

She has no idea who it could be, and is honestly a bit frightened considering this person is pounding on her door so violently, but she hurries over to the door. Peeking out of the peephole, she’s met with a very familiar furrowed brow. 

It’s Harry, her next door neighbor. Except, for the first time, he looks more stressed than angry. 

She opens the door, a bit embarrassed in her messy painting overalls. She chews on her lip and she stands nervously behind her door, almost as if she’s using it to protect herself. “Hi?” she says timidly, worried about why he might be at her door. Had she done something to make him angry? Was her music too loud or something? 

His hair, normally curled atop his head neatly in chocolate colored swirls, now sticks out in every direction as if he’d been running his hands through it constantly, and his eyes are wide and frantic. “My sister…” he pants, out of breath as if he’d run a mile to get here, “She’s in labor. I-I have to go to see her, could you–,” he pauses to catch his breath, chest rising heavily. “Could you please take care of my bunny while I’m gone?”

She blinks for a second. This man, who’d been so cold and mean to her ever since she moved in, was in front of her door… begging her to take care of his bunny? 

“Oh!” This was definitely not what she expected when she opened the door and saw Harry standing there. She thought that he was for sure about to yell at her for something, tell her to turn the music down or blow out her candles because he could smell them from his apartment.

This, however… this she could work with. Maybe it would make him finally come around.

“Yes!” she exclaims, after a second. “Oh my gosh, yes, of course! What do you need me to do?”

His shoulders sag with relief. “Thank you,” he says gratefully, letting out a deep breath. He knows that he hasn’t necessarily been the nicest to her and had been worried that she might tell him to fuck off (rightfully so), but he was desperate, and thankfully… she’s an angel. 

He ushers her into his apartment, which (as respectfully as she can put it) looks like a tornado has just passed through it. A pile of unopened mail sits on his kitchen counter, abandoned in his rush to get packed, and what seems to be his dinner sits half eaten on his dinner table, fork thrown onto the table next to his plate with a piece of broccoli still hanging onto it. A lone suitcase sits in the middle of his living room, piled with clothes that aren’t folded – just haphazardly thrown in there. It’s abundantly clear that he’s been frantically rushing around his apartment, trying to pack all his stuff together while also figuring out what to do with Thumper.

“Sorry for the mess,” he apologizes over his shoulder, double checking that she’s still within earshot with how fast he’s running around into his apartment. “I-I wasn’t planning on having to go see her so soon, she’s not due for another three weeks,” he rambles, messily shoving a pant leg into his suitcase as he zips it up. “But then she called, and she’s all alone, and–” he looks up at her with wide, earnest eyes, “I just have to be there for her.” 

“Hey, don’t be sorry,” she says gently. “I totally get it. It’s no problem.”

He stares at her for a second, eyes flickering between hers, a soft look in his eye. It seems like he’s about to say something– but he stops himself. Instead, he walks over to a large bunny playpen, filled with hay and piles of soft blankets and towels. 

Sitting atop one of those worn-out blankets is a fluffy white bunny, nibbling softly on a piece of hay. Harry reaches in and gently picks the little bunny up, who fits perfectly in the palm of his hand. “This is Thumper,” Harry introduces softly, his finger gently petting along the little bunny’s back. “Thumper, this is y/n. She’s gonna take care of you while I'm gone.”  The little bunny’s nose twitches softly, chewing on his hay mindlessly.

Y/n doesn’t know what she expected from Harry, but it definitely wasn’t this. From all of her interactions with him, he just seemed so cold and mean and intimidating! But watching him pet his little bunny that sits so peacefully in his large, tattooed hands… hearing him talk to this tiny ball of white fur as if it’s a real person… well it just makes Harry look like a bit of a softie, to be honest. It’s a side of her grumpy neighbor that she never could’ve imagined. 

“Hi Thumper,” she coos, taking a timid step forward. “You’re just the cutest thing in the world.”

“He is, isn’t he?” Harry says proudly, a soft dimple in his cheek as he smiles down at his bunny that he loves so much. 

Passing Thumper over to her, he maneuvers her hands so that the bunny is resting comfortably. “He likes to be held like this,” he instructs, his hands brushing against hers, “On his stomach, so he can look around. Sometimes he gets a bit nervous when he’s too high up from the ground for a long time, so if he starts thumping that just means he wants to be put down again.”

She nods, copying the way he’d been holding Thumper to the best of her ability. The bunny feels so small and fragile in her hold and she’s terrified of hurting him – but Thumper just twitches his nose gently, completely unaffected by whatever is going on around him. 

“This is where he sleeps and spends most of his time,” Harry continues, pointing down at the little den of blankets. “But if you can, try to take him outside for at least an hour everyday. I made the balcony bunny proof and there’s a little grassy area out there with all his toys, so just let him hop around there for a bit. Maybe hang out with him if you can, he’s really playful. It’s just really important for his health, to be outside and have some playtime.” 

He puts his hands on his hips and stares at his bunny, who seems totally content in y/n’s arms. A weight is lifted off his shoulders, seeing that Thumper feels comfortable in the arms of this half-stranger. It makes him feel a little less guilty for having to leave him so suddenly. 

Harry checks the clock. “Shit!” he cries, gathering his bearings once more. His sister lives almost two hours away, so he needs to leave now. 

She follows him, Thumper still in his arms, as he scrambles towards the kitchen. “This is his food,” he says, pulling out a bag of leafy, green vegetables – a nice mix of lettuce, kale, cabbage, and parsley – from his fridge. “Give him a bowlful of these veggies twice a day. He’s not on a really strict schedule, just give him some whenever you have breakfast and dinner. And you saw, he has a bunch of hay in his cage too, which he snacks on all day, so it’s okay if you’re a little late.” 

He’s running around his apartment, grabbing things and shoving them into his suitcase at the last minute, and calling out instructions to y/n as fast as he can – frantic, stressed out, with absolutely no time to waste. Y/n watches him with wide eyes, absorbing everything he says, while Thumper sits in her arms quietly completely unbothered by Harry’s frantic bustling. 

“Um, if he’s being annoying or thumping or anything like that, give him a treat – they’re in this jar – and he’ll probably calm down. I’m pretty generous with the treats ‘cos he’s just such a good bunny, but also he needs to watch his diet, so I’d limit him to like… 10-12 pellets per day.” 

He runs to the living room and picks up his suitcase, dragging it to the door frantically while still spewing out instructions. “He loves cuddling, and he’s a really good bunny so you can leave him on the couch or on my bed and he won’t like– chew anything up. And if it gets really cold at night he has a heating pad in his playpen, just put it in the microwave for a minute or two, and he’ll get on top of it if he wants.”

“Here’s my number if you need anything,” he says, scribbling down his phone number onto one of the abandoned pieces of mail sitting on his kitchen counter. “That’s a three, I know it doesn’t look like it, sorry!” He slams the pen down on the counter and runs into his bedroom, then hurries back out with a backpack, filled to the brim with all his toiletries and other essentials. What seems to be his phone charger hangs out of the front pocket, just about ready to pop out and fall to the ground, but he shoves it in and somehow manages to zip up the overstuffed bag. 

“Okay,” he sighs, letting out a deep breath. Now that he’s all packed up and ready to go, he lets himself slow down for a second. He takes a look around to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything, then turns around to face y/n. Thumper looks up at Harry with his cute little eyes.

“Alright bud, I gotta go,” he whispers quietly, petting the bunny’s cheeks. “Be good, okay?” He leans forward and presses a little kiss against Thumper’s forehead, his cheek brushing against y/n’s arm, who still has Thumper coddled to her chest. 

“I should be back soon,” he says to y/n, looking at her with gentle eyes. “Thank you again, for taking care of him. I know it’s all last minute.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she says with a smile.

Harry smiles back at her softly. The first time she’s ever seen him look at her with a smile. It makes her heart flutter happily, one step closer to making her neighbor stop hating her. 

“Here’s the key to my apartment. I… I’ve got to go now. But text me if anything happens.”

With a final deep breath and a pat on Thumper’s head, Harry heads out the door and runs to the elevator.

And then it’s just y/n and Thumper, alone in Harry’s apartment.

Who would’ve thought. 

+++

Y/n doesn’t really have much experience with bunnies… but she imagines that if she were a bunny and her bunny Dad randomly left her with a stranger in the middle of the night, then she’d be a pretty stressed out bunny. 

Luckily, Thumper seems pretty relaxed. 

After Harry left, she just put him back into his playpen and watched him chew on some hay and relax on his comfy pile of blankets. She warmed up his heating pad, just as Harry instructed, but Thumper didn’t even need it. He just headed to bed like a good little bunny and went through the night peacefully, with only the occasional twitch of his nose and a little scuffle as if he were having a rabbit dream.  

Just to be safe, y/n spent the night on Harry’s couch, sleeping right next to Thumper’s little pen just in case he started thumping in the middle of the night and needed some attention. In the morning, she scuttled back to her apartment to make herself a quick breakfast, then hurried back to give Thumper his morning veggies. And in the time that she’d normally spend reading on her own balcony, she instead went out onto Harry’s balcony and watched as Thumper happily hopped around in the grass and played with his little bunny toys. 

She runs into very little problems while bunny-sitting for Harry, and actually finds herself particularly fond of this fluffy little creature. But she wonders, even if she has no questions for Harry, should she still send him a text? He left her his number in case she had any questions, but he’d probably wouldn’t mind an update text either? I mean… if she were a Bunny Dad and she had to randomly leave her bunny in the middle of the night, then she’d probably want to know that her bunny was safe and happy! 

After much overthinking and lots of nervous pacing around Harry’s kitchen, she decides to send him a text. A simple, “Hi, it’s y/n!” accompanied with a cute picture of Thumper, chomping on some lettuce with his floppy ears hanging cutely and his big eyes glimmering. She then follows it with another text, saying that they just ate some breakfast together and went out on the balcony for some morning playtime.

She throws her phone down after she sends the text, beyond nervous to be sending messages to the grumpy neighbor that had scared her for so long. She jumps when her phone chimes with a message less than a minute later, apologizing to Thumper who gives an annoyed thump, as if he’s telling her to stop being so dramatic. 

“How’s he behaving?” reads Harry’s response. 

“Like an angel!” she says. “Slept through the night without any thumping and had lots of fun playing in the grass.”

“Good,” he texts back, and she thinks that’s the end of it. But after a minute another message comes through. “Give him an extra treat from me, he deserves it :)”

A smiley face! Who knew grumpy Harry knew how to use smiley faces. 

She sends back a picture of Thumper with his treat. And a smiley face for good measure. 

:) 

+++

Harry comes back home five days later.

He’d managed to make it to the hospital just in time. His sister had been in active labor on her own for about four hours at that point, and spent another four hours in excruciating pain once Harry got there. His mum arrived around 45 minutes after he did, and Miles (his sister’s husband, aka the father of this child), arrived last, only about 30 minutes before she was fully dilated and ready to start pushing. 

All of them had scrambled to make it there on time, considering how unexpected and early his sister went into labor. He’s just thankful that Miles and his Mum were there too, so that he wouldn’t have to be the one holding her hand while she pushed (as supportive as he wanted to be, he had to leave the room or else he would’ve passed out). 

The baby did come a bit early, but after a few tests the doctors said that she was fine, just a bit smaller than usual! They spent the night in the hospital, just to be safe, and were discharged to go home as a happy little family the next morning. 

Harry and his mum stayed with Gemma and Miles in their cozy little for a few days, helping around the house while the new parents rested and recovered. Harry helped with the finishing touches of the nursery and went out shopping for extra diapers and baby toys, while his mom cooked homey meals for her kids and tutted over her new granddaughter.

It was nice for them to be all together again, celebrating the newest addition to their happy family, but after a few days the guilt of being away from Thumper for so long was growing too heavy. His mum promised to stay with Gemma and make sure that she’s recovering well, and with a kiss to his newborn baby niece, he headed back home to his precious baby bunny. 

He unlocks his door, dragging his suitcase in behind him, and faintly hears a soft, sweet voice from inside. He abandons his suitcase and tiptoes closer and closer to the voice. He finds y/n, out on his balcony with Thumper. 

“You are so cute!” she says to Thumper, sitting on her knees and rolling a little ball towards him, which Thumper nudges back with his nose. “I wish I could give you another treat, but your Dad said not to give you too many… I dunno though, should we break the rules a little bit? One extra treat since you’re being such a good bunny?”

Thumper’s nose twitches excitedly, as if he knows that she’s about to reward him with another treat, and Harry’s heart flutters in his chest. This scene – y/n, talking to his little bunny as if he’s a real person, coddling him and giving him treats – it’s a bit endearing. He tries to stop the soft smile growing on his face, to ignore the fuzzy feeling in his tummy… but he can’t help it. He’s endeared. 

He tries to casually lean against his couch and watch the scene for a few more moments, but he accidentally knocks a pen off of his coffee table, making y/n yelp and turn around. “Oh!” she bubbles, “Hi Harry!” 

He straightens himself out and clears his throat, wiping the silly smile off his face and trying to come off as neutral as possible. “Hello,” he says, with a polite nod of his head. 

“How was your sister? Did you have a nice trip?” “Y-yeah it was good, thanks,” he twists his hands nervously behind his back. “She had a little baby girl. Healthy and happy. It was really nice.” 

Y/n’s eyes round out, a soft glimmer in them. “Oh, I’m so happy to hear that.” 

He ignores the fluttering in his stomach, and wipes away the nervous sweat of his hands onto his pants. “Um– How was Thumper?” 

“A right angel!” she exclaims, picking Thumper up and handing him over to Harry. “Wish I could steal him from you. If you ever need me to watch him again, don’t be afraid to ask, I loved hanging out with him.”

Harry can’t help the dimple that pops out on his cheek, blushing slightly at her kind words and pretty smile. “I– Really, I can’t thank you enough.”

“No worries, honestly! Just don’t be a stranger,” she says, a playful glimmer in her eye. 

+++

The next morning, sitting on her balcony with her mug in hand, she watches anxiously as Harry steps out of his apartment with his watering can. 

Would things go back to normal, with him ignoring her and hating her and pretending she doesn’t exist? Or… has he finally come around?

She holds her breath as he slides his balcony open. He looks at her. She looks at him.

He breaks a smile. “Good morning,” he says, dimple in cheek.

She exhales. 

“Good morning, Harry,” she responds with a grin.

+++

Y/n hates thunderstorms. 

She hates the sound of thunder, hates how loud and unexpected it is. Hates how her entire body trembles when thunder crashes outside her window, hates how she can feel it shake her apartment. And lightning… don’t even get her started on lightning! She has a recurring nightmare that she’s sound asleep, only to be woken up by electrocution ‘cos the lightning bolt decided her bed was the perfect place to land. 

Now, when she lived in her old apartment, she was lucky enough to have amazing roommates who would comfort her during really bad storms. She could sit and talk with Sameera until the storm passed, watch a movie with Savanna to block out the sounds of thunder. Sometimes, if the storm was really bad, Nia would even cuddle y/n to sleep so that she’d calm down. Y/n would bury herself in her roommate’s loving arms, hiding her face in Nia’s chest as she willed away the anxiety attacks and tried not to cry every time she felt the rumbling thunder outside. 

Now that she lives on her own, however, she has nobody to comfort her. 

She thought it’d be fine, told herself that she’s far too grown to still be hiding in her closet whenever it rained a little bit outside! So she climbed into her bed, snuggled herself under her blankets, and turned on a movie, ignoring the storm outside to the best of her ability. With her pretty fairy lights turned on, her favorite movie playing (Pride and Prejudice 2005), and her headphones blocking out all the thunder, she was 100% confident that she’d be able to get through the night all on her own!

That is… until the power went out. 

Her movie paused, her heater went silent, and her fairy lights suddenly turned off. She tried to turn on the main light in her room, but the light switch flicked on and off with no effect. Same with her desk lamp, and the light in her bathroom. Everything was pitch black.

Sitting in the dark, with only flashes of lightning to illuminate her room… it was terrifying for y/n. 

She scrambled to turn on the flashlight on her phone, and felt her heart drop when she saw that she was only at 9%. How was she going to survive the night without her phone? She rushes around, trying to see if she has any extra flashlights or candles… but her emergency flashlight has no batteries, and although she has a wide variety of candles to choose from… she has no matches in her new apartment. 

She’s thoroughly fucked. 

A bolt of lightning strikes outside, followed by a crash of thunder that makes y/n yelp and fall to the floor. She’s on the verge of tears, with nowhere to turn and nothing to comfort her… when she gets a text.

Harry: Everything alright in your apartment? 

Her hands tremble as she types out a response. 

Not really :( she responds. trying to find a flashlight or something but im having no luck and my phones gonna die soon :( 

Another rumble of thunder shakes her apartment. She closes her eyes and tries to regulate her breathing with shaky inhales and whimpery exhales. 

Harry responds a minute later.

Do you want to come over to mine? 

+++