Just a little something kicking around in my brain. (I've got a bit of baby fever going on over here on these last few I know--I'll move away from babies for my next update)
You can read Traditional here
Her shyness was adorable. It was entirely too early to have this conversation. They’d only officially been dating for less than three months. But they also lived together. And worked together. He was crossing his fingers and hoping the earliness or suddenness didn’t matter.
She knocked on the door with Harry’s tea in hand. Even though she was no longer an intern, it was one way to get her little dose of Harry while at work even on the busiest of days until they could get home. She craved seeing Harry. Being near him made her instantly happy. Stealing kisses at work was one of her new favorite past times, and Harry found himself unbelievably happy about those, too. It didn’t matter that they ate dinner together, snuggled up watching TV, or fell asleep spooning. The little fifteen-minute teatime in the afternoon was enough to make her extra dizzy with love for him.
However, today she was surprised to find a little baby, sitting alone, in a round little activity seat. He babbled to himself as she entered, and she smiled immediately. “Well, hello,” she cooed. Placing Harry’s tea on his desk she smiled curiously at the little one. “Who are you?” She asked him and knelt in front of him playing. He wasn’t quite a toddler, but maybe a bit over a year old. He was simply adorable: soft wispy hair, beautiful round eyes. She was immediately in love.
She always did well with babies. Her smile was warm and maternal. In college, she spent some of her time tutoring and babysitting when people inquired. Little ones always enjoyed her gentle nature. Honestly, she was definitely one of those women who wanted a tribe of her own little cuties to follow her around one day in the future. The baby gurgled, hitting the different activities around his seat. He smiled at her, a bit of drool falling from his little perfect lips, and he reached out making a grabbing motion with one hand. She waved back at him. She held out her finger so he could grasp his squishy little hand around it. “Hi,” she giggled again. “Did you get here all by yourself?” She asked him which of course led to no response, but he enjoyed her voice and gave her a big, drooly smile in return. The door opened and in walked three people. “Oh hi,” she glanced over her shoulder as Harry closed the door behind them. “I brought your tea.”
“Hi,” he said awkwardly. “Um...”
“You have a baby,” she said. “Did I miss something?”
The two people with him smirked. “Hi, love,” the woman said. “I’m Sarah, this is Mitch. We’re Harry’s friends.”
“Oh, the ones he doesn’t pay,” she smiled.
Harry rolled his eyes. “I like her,” Mitch whispered toward him but so she could still hear.
“Your baby is very cute,” she said poking at some of the toys while the baby kept a firm grasp on her hand.
“We’ve heard so much about you,” Sarah said sweetly crouching down beside the baby and activity seat next to her. “Hi, cutie pie,” she kissed his little nose making him giggle excitedly. “Would you like to hold him?”
“Yes,” she answered immediately, almost before Sarah finished her question. The three snickered at her. Sarah lifted the baby out of the seat and held him out to the waiting girl.
“Sometimes he is fussy with new people,” Mitch warned. He usually grabbed handfuls of hair and screamed every now and again.
She nodded. “That’s okay, must be scary getting passed around a bunch of people that aren’t Mumma and Dadda, huh?” She asked the little one who still nuzzled against her neck effortlessly, not worried at all that she was a stranger. He may have been fussy sometimes, but it seemed today wouldn’t be one of those days.
“Well, he definitely likes you, hmm?” Sarah laughed rubbing his little back as she held him.
“I have a wide-open face that babies love,” she explained. “I think I look like a teddy bear.”
Harry was speechless. He wanted to introduce his other best friends to his girlfriend. He would like to say she looked nothing like a teddy bear, but instead a beautiful angel with a halo around her head. But instead, he was tongue-tied watching her with the baby. She was a natural and his heart was aching with longing. His brain started imagining her holding a little one that looked like the perfect combination of the two of them. “Harry, you’re staring,” Mitch muttered under his breath, this time so no one could hear but Harry.
Shaking his head quickly to pull him out of his daydream, he knelt beside the two women and smiled at the baby. “Mitch and Sarah were jus’ saying they wanted t’have a date night jus’ the two of them,” Harry explained. He reached out to cup the side of the baby’s face. Harry’s palm was the same width as the side of his little head. His thumb skimmed over his hair gently, brushing his ear making the baby’s eyes flutter shut. “I sort of volunteered myself t’watch him,” he explained. “We were jus’ putting his sippy cups in the fridge.”
She smiled. “Could I help watch him too, if it’s alright with you guys?” She asked Sarah and Mitch. She didn’t want to make the parents uncomfortable. Of course, they trusted Harry, but she was a stranger. It was nice to let her hold the cutie pie, but she wouldn’t expect a whole night if they didn’t want it.
“We wouldn’t leave the baby alone with just Harry,” Mitch smiled. Harry rolled his eyes at the joke. He’d been left alone with the baby plenty of times before. It happened that some of those evenings he hadn’t spent with her over the last year were spent with the baby.
“We sort of expected you two to be a package deal,” Sarah winked at her.
Harry adored the blush that painted her cheeks. She liked that—being a package deal. Harry liked it too. “Mitch and Sarah are leaving me with their car,” Harry explained.
“You going to be good for Uncle Harry?” Sarah asked the baby. He giggled reaching for him. He crawled into Harry’s embrace. Giggling and bouncing as Harry placed his feet on his lap.
“We always have a lot of fun, don’t we lad,” he murmured kissing the top of his head. “Would y’mind leaving early?” Harry asked the girl beside him.
“You’re the boss,” she reminded him, standing now while Harry stayed put on the floor with the baby. “I just follow orders. I am working on something with Niall right now. I’ll have to finish that up.”
“That’s fine. We’re not leaving for at least an hour. Some business to attend to,” Sarah smiled. “Harry is going to invest in our new music label, supposedly.”
“Oh, how lovely!” She said excitedly. “I’ll send the paperwork to you once I get back to my office,” she said for Harry’s benefit. His heart warmed over with adoration for her once more; anticipating his needs. It was quite the quality she had.
“Surprised Harry doesn’t have you in here with him,” Mitch said with the sound of delight in his voice. Harry glared at the carpet bitterly.
“He tried, but Niall beat him in an arm-wrestling contest,” she explained. “He’ll tell you—”
“The table had water on it!” He was still quite sore about it and wished Niall had given him a rematch. The whole predicament was laughable to her but still very upsetting to Harry. He wanted her around all the time.
“—his arm slipped,” she finished ignoring Harry’s interruption.
“They arm-wrestled over you?” Sarah laughed. “Harry Styles, the poor girl is not a trophy!”
Harry knew that and found himself rolling his eyes as he played with the little one to keep his mind occupied and not wallowing in pity over the fact that she was down the hall most of the time. Even though they drove in to work with one another, back home together, and of course lived in the same house. She insisted that as CEO he should have his own space. Niall liked to remind him of the time he threw the keyboard in her presence—of course he would never hurt her, but where would he put her in his office so she would be out of the line of fire when Harry became that agitated again? It was better for his simmering temper and for her safety to be down the hall.
“Unbeknownst to me,” she continued while Harry was lost in thought. “I only found out after. But I did try explaining to Harry several times that it makes more sense for me to spend some time away from him, so he doesn’t tire of me.”
Sarah and Mitch exchanged a knowing look and Mitch shook his head at her. “Oh, love, I don’t think Harry’s ever going to tire of you,” Mitch promised.
Harry was silent during their little exchange other than interrupting to defend his loss against Niall. He rolled his eyes at the wonderful girl he adored so much. His eyes stayed on his friends’ little babe. Listening to her worry about growing tired of her made his stomach knot sickly. He wouldn’t ever. He couldn’t. She was his favorite thing to wake up to in the morning and the last thing he loved to see before falling asleep. Getting to be in the same building as her and working with her was a godsend; he was so lucky to be near her so often.
If anything, Harry worried about suffocating her.
He looked up at her from the floor with a knowing little smile. His left dimple dented his cheek deeply, making her stomach flip with adoration for him. She needed to leave before she kissed him all over his pretty face. Looking like a lovesick idiot in front of his friends. People who expected her to protect their most precious angel without falling all over Harry for a few hours. “Well, just to be sure, I better get back to Niall. I’ll see you later,” she cooed.
“See you later,” Harry answered, voice oozing with love that made her knees feel weak. She didn’t have the heart to tell him she meant the baby.
*
Harry held the baby in his arms while she got another sippy cup cleaned and ready with more milk. The little one was supposed to be asleep or hopefully falling asleep any minute but seemed much too excited to play with Harry to even think about resting. Harry was bouncing him effortlessly, his arms looked delicious curled around the little one. Like he was meant to hold a baby; Harry had big strong muscles, but they looked so delicate and still protective around the small little bean. Her heart fluttered at the thought of how natural he looked.
“Mumma and Dadda will be very upset with us if you don’t go to sleep, cutie pie,” she said but the little one thought her voice was pretty. Harry found it pretty, too. He liked the way it sounded when she spoke to him. Not quite baby-talk, but not exactly how she spoke to Harry either. “They might not ever let me play with you again if we keep you up all night,” she caressed the back of his soft little baby head, the hair feathery and light, like a bird’s wing. She was in love.
Harry smirked and kissed his little forehead. “Y’got t’sleep, lad.” She took the bottle from the microwave and handed it to Harry. The little one pushed it from Harry’s hand, so it fell to the floor. At the same time, the baby reached for the sweet girl. “I know she’s pretty; I don’t want t’sleep either when she’s around,” Harry murmured. He bent to get the bottle. “But y’can’t play with her when you’re tired either,” Harry explained. Her face was warm at Harry’s description, and she snuggled the cutie up to her chest. Harry placed the bottle between his lips and his little eyes seemed to close almost instantly. “Jus’ wanted a cuddle from y’kitten, before falling asleep. Can’t say I blame him.”
She smiled and brushed her fingers across his velvety soft cheek. “He’s so cute,” she whispered. Swaying as she held him in her arms.
Harry figured they would eventually talk about kids. He wasn’t sure when exactly, but it would happen. Harry definitely didn’t think it was going to be on a Tuesday evening when she had only just moved her final belongings in two weeks prior.
Yet all he could think about was her gorgeous being glowing with a rounded tummy. He wanted it. Bad. The idea suddenly consumed him. Wanting everything that would go along with it.He wanted every one of her possible mood swings. Every morning of nausea. All the cravings she could have. He wanted everything with her and a baby that would be a perfect meld of her and himself. She could feel Harry’s mind spinning in thought. She could see it in his face. But she had no idea that Harry was imagining a gaggle of little babies following the beautiful girl around their home. Snuggling on the porch furniture while she read to them and gave them lemonade. Or playing hide and seek around the yard. He wanted her pregnant right now. “What’s on your mind, Mr. Styles?” She hummed, interrupting his thoughts.
“Promise y’won’t…get nervous or worry?” He asked. He sounded nervous. For god’s sake he never even thought about asking her about kids in over the year she knew him. How was he supposed to just spring this on her right now? She was young. She had so much time to think about kids. She didn’t need to rush. But she looked so goddamn pretty with a baby in her arms Harry couldn’t help but think she’d be even more beautiful if the baby was her own.
She looked up at him with a smirk. “Sounds worrisome,” she answered knowingly. Harry rolled his eyes.
“I…I think y’would look really pretty if y’were pregnant, love,” his voice was so quiet. Softer than a whisper. He loved the flush of her cheeks and how she seemed to drop her nose to the little one’s head so she could almost hide in his wispy hair. Her shyness was adorable. It was entirely too early to have this conversation. They’d only officially been dating for less than three months. But they also lived together. And worked together. He was crossing his fingers and hoping the earliness or suddenness didn’t matter.
“Yeah?” She responded. No clear emotion about his idea either way.
“Yeah,” he nodded in affirmation.
It wasn’t often she thought about her six-year age gap with Harry. Almost everyone permanent in her life had five or so years on her. Before everything, before she knew how the world worked, she dreamed of being married and having kids by her mid-twenties. After everything, the last six years of hardship…it was a laughable thought.
But Harry was six years older. He probably thought about having kids a lot more now than she did. Of course, she loved kids. Of course, she wanted them. She had no idea Harry wanted them too. Suddenly, she was fourteen again. Just finished reading a young adult romance novel that had her dying for an all-consuming love like the one she read about. One that made her want to be married and have kids by the time she was 25.
And she could. Harry wanted to give her everything. Harry would give her everything she ever wanted. He was able to make everything better. She could have that crazy pipe dream with him that she imagined when she was in junior high.
“I think I’d like that too,” she admitted.
The relief on his face was utterly adorable. She didn’t know what to add to her statement. “Oh, thank God,” Harry mumbled.
She giggled trying not to jostle the baby. Harry ushered her to his room where he created a little makeshift sleeping pallet on his bed for the little one using a pillowcase and blanket. A little raft on the sea of Harry’s duvet. Once the baby was down Harry wrapped her in his arms. Attaching his mouth to hers and backing them out of the room towards what used to be “her” room but was now just a guest room.
“Oh, are we starting now? I think we should wait maybe a little bit, no? At least until Sarah and Mitch come back for their child? Or you know maybe we should actually date for a year?” She asked against his lips with a cheeky smile and giggle.
“Practice makes perfect,” he murmured back and pushed until she was laid on the bed.
“Baby,” she paused his delicious kisses. It was hard. She had to keep a tight rein of control on her mind to do so.
“Hmm?” He kissed the length of her neck, following an imaginary path to the hollow of her throat, and began skimming across her collarbone.
“I love you,” she whispered.
“Kitten, I love you so much.”
--
general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @youdontcaredoyou
I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)
If you like this, check out my masterlist for more of my writing.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
I think this is the moment many of us have been waiting for. I mentioned it in an ask at the time, but I listened to Thin Air by Aqualung the duration of writing part 9 and during this if you want some ambiance, lol.
This is smut smut smut, 18+, no minors please. If you think it could happen during sex put that warning here. Please don't read if you don't want to read about sex. There is hardly any plot.
Anyway. I hope you enjoy and if you want plot, the rest of the story is here: Traditional. Again, takes place during my little * at the end of part 9. I'm very nervous about this so please be kind; I hope it was worth some of the wait.
“Don’t want t’scare y’love...m’a bit vocal during this kind of thing,” he told her.
“I-I’m not,” she whispered her breath catching in her throat again. The idea of Harry talking to her throughout...oh God.
Completely, totally, and literally screwed.
“Okay...I’ll do the talking then,” he hummed against her neck. She felt her vocal cords practically tie themselves together, shutting down all control of her voice. Rendered speechless, he made his way back to her lips with his own.
Since her hands were playing with the elastic of his pants, they were the first to come off. “I forgot you’ve seen me naked before,” he mumbled.
“It was business before,” she reminded him.
“Hmm,” he sighed as he kicked his pants into the bottom of the sheets. At the same time, he pulled his shirt off. Her hands were warm at his hips as she started to draw figure eights along his skin with her fingers. His breath caught in his throat, and he could feel himself growing at her touch so close to his cock.
Harry never worried when it came to sex. Never. It wasn’t that he thought he was some god or anything like that, but it just happened, and he happened to be good at it, based on the feedback he had gotten in the past. But of course, she was so different. Now she was near silent as she flipped the covers back and looked at him as if she was inspecting him. As embarrassed as he should have been he wanted to read her mind. Wanted to know why she wasn’t saying anything.
Biting her lip, she looked up at his eyes and he watched the way her cheeks turned pink. “I haven’t...had sex in like...seven months. I’m worried it’ll be bad...especially when you look like that,” she glanced back at his dick and then back to his gaze.
He breathed a sigh of relief. “Kitten,” he shook his head.
“Also,” she started before he could say anything. “I want this to be about you because you took care of me all weekend and I know you were so upset with me the last couple days and I just want to make it up to you,” she rambled quickly. “Plus, it’s kind of why you pay—”
“Love,” Harry said sitting up against the pillows so he could take hold of her face. Brushing his thumb over her lips so he could quiet her. “Stop,” he whispered and kissed her forehead. “We’ll do whatever you want,” but he silently he promised himself he was going to make her cum so hard she’d never want to have sex with anyone else ever again. “But s’got nothing t’do with making up for taking care of you, or m’crummy mood, or even because I pay you, okay?”
She nodded after a moment of staring into his eyes. “I don’t want it to be bad for you,” she whispered.
He smiled and slid his hands down her neck, over her shoulders and down his sides so he could pull her shirt over her head. She bit the inside of her lip keeping her eyes on Harry’s. His eyes flitted over her briefly. He could feel his heartbeat quicken. “I don’t think s’possible,” he shook his head. “You’re utterly beautiful,” he promised. “So extremely beautiful.”
He leaned her back against the pillows and started kissing down the length of her body until he got to the pants on her hips. It wasn’t the time, but it flew into her head before she could stop it. Harry was slowly pulling at the elastic around her waist, and she felt her heart flutter with worry that he had done this before with others and they were probably way sexier and more experienced in pleasing Harry the way he deserved.
Then a terrible thought blew through her mind and suddenly it was all she could think about. “Wait,” she said quickly as he worked his way up to her underwear again. He pulled away immediately. Put space between her and her body. It couldn’t have been more than a few centimeters but after feeling his skin touch hers all night long, it felt like miles.
He frowned. “What s’matter, kitten? D’you want t’stop?”
She sighed and put a hand over her face to cover her eyes. “I...I didn’t... shave.”
He chuckled before he could stop himself and pulled her hand away from her face so he could see her and more importantly, so she could see his face when he said the next part. “Honestly, beautiful. Of course, we’ll stop if y’want...but I don’t want that t’be a factor or reason why y’want t’stop,” he had this playful smile on his mouth that made her feel silly, but it was also adorable. She could sense the seriousness in his tone. He was kneeling on the bed, looking like he was carved by a Renaissance artist, hands resting on his thighs as he waited for her decision.
“Really?” she said softly, nervously.
“Really,” he repeated.
“Do you remember the last time you saw me naked I was covered in burns...I happened to shave that day...so it’s—.”
“And I told y’that y’were beautiful then, and that hasn’t changed whether y’have completely normal body hair or not. All I can think ‘bout is fucking your brains out, love.”
It made her breath catch in her throat to hear perhaps one of the most salacious things he had ever uttered in her direction while saying it with the utmost sweetness. She really hoped he didn’t see her thighs clench instinctively together to relieve the pressure she was feeling.
He did.
She could see that Harry looked painfully hard. With everything in her, she tried not to stare but it was right there. Somehow managing to be the most perfect dick she could imagine. It was almost embarrassing how badly she wanted it; to touch it, to taste it, to have it inside her. If Harry could read her mind, he would have thought she was a lunatic.
Oh, I’m so fucking screwed, the voice in her head nearly shouted.
“Kitten?” Harry asked. Amusement laced in his voice along with his gentle smile. “Do y’want t’stop?” He asked.
She averted her gaze, only barely surprised by his interruption of her staring. Her cheeks turned pink once more under his gaze anyway and he sank his tooth into his lip looking at her with almost a bit of worry but there was amusement in his eyes as much as his voice. Like she was having some meltdown.
And she was. “Oh, well I think my staring is plenty proof I don’t want to stop.”
“Gonna give me a complex, love,” he chuckled. “But I won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with.”
“No, no, pretty sure I have to pretend to work for the 35,000 you’ve given me at some point.”
Harry smirked, shaking his head. “M’serious, beautiful. Won’t do it if y’don’t want to. S’not about money.” You can have all my money, if I can just look at you for hours and hours; he refrained from saying that out loud, however.
She shook her head. “I know...I’m sorry. I know you’re not like that...I’m just nervous. Because you look like that and I look like this,” she sighed glancing back at him.
“M’not really sure what that means. Happen t’think you’re quite beautiful,” he moved again to put his hands at her hips. “When y’had all those burns, all I wanted t’do was kiss each one,” he murmured and started to kiss down her body again. Every kiss he pressed to her skin was somewhere she knew she was previously burned. As if he had memorized each one himself. Part of her thought that if he had kissed her skin like this back then that probably would have healed her much faster than any balm she could have used.
His hands grabbed firmly at the elastic of her pants again (he even gripped the sides of her underwear too; she wondered if that was on purpose so she couldn’t overthink again once he was done with her pants). He looked up at her as he pressed another kiss to her hips bone right above one of his hands. His eyes looking for confirmation he could get her naked from the waist down. She gave the smallest nod and Harry began kissing down her leg further, not paying attention to the totality of her nakedness that ensued as he did.
“I want t’make y’feel so good, love. S’that alright?” She shook her head no. He frowned and tilted his head at her as he followed the path of his hands over her kneecap, her shin, even her ankle. “No?” He asked curiously. “Y’don’t want t’feel good?” He murmured.
Her brain was trying to focus on his words, but she was struggling with the gentleness of his voice and the way his fingers were dancing over her skin. “Jesus, fuck,” she managed under her breath causing him to smirk. “Supposed to be about you,” she whispered, barely.
“Mmm...m’not okay with that. S’got be ‘bout you too...or I’ll stop here,” he shrugged, and he was knelt by the end of the bed waiting for her answer. “I want t’make y’feel good,” he promised. “Seven months is a long time t’be giving yourself orgasms. I should know,” he murmured casually. She felt like she was swallowing a rock, but she nodded. Harry hadn’t had an orgasm that wasn’t from himself either and that seemed sinful. She wanted to fix that immediately.
“Okay.”
“You’re sure?” He repeated.
She nodded. “Please,” she said politely. It wasn’t on purpose, but her simple “please” made his stomach knot with pleasure. Only managing to cover his moan with more kisses as he started his ascent back up her body, hardly noticing her lack of underwear or anything, for that matter. “Don’t want t’scare y’love...m’a bit vocal during this kind of thing,” he told her.
“I-I’m not,” she whispered her breath catching in her throat again. The idea of Harry talking to her throughout...oh God.
Completely, totally,and literally screwed.
“Okay...I’ll do the talking then,” he hummed against her neck.
She felt her vocal cords practically tie themselves together, shutting down all control of her voice. Rendered speechless, he made his way back to her lips with his own. As he did so he slid his hand between her thighs almost instantly. His middle finger almost immediately found her clit and she let out the smallest whine of pleasure as he gently massaged small circles against it.
“Does that feel good, love?” He asked against her lips. She nodded fiercely. Slowly, he moved his finger down lower; feeling how wet she was. “You’re all worked up, kitten,” he hummed in appreciation. “Y’were really gonna stop all because of a little bit of hair? Poor thing must be aching,” he murmured sinking his finger into her. Her mouth fell open, but not a sound escaped except for her breath. She closed her eyes confirming Harry’s accusation as she practically arched her body up into his hand, her clit rubbing into the palm of his hand as she did so.
Harry felt a little dizzy seeing her reaction. She looked so pretty arching into his hand. So pretty against his pillow. He would like to make her scream, but he would settle for how the breath escaped her lips and any whine he could get. She felt incredibly warm, soft, and so very wet. He hid his moan in another kiss, licking into her mouth fervently. If she was this tight around his finger, he wasn’t going to last long at all inside her.
Which then reminded him of how hard he felt. Almost at the same time, she felt him pressed against her thigh and he subtly rutted his cock against her leg to get some friction for him. She reached down grabbing his erection and wrapping her hand around it. As she did, he gasped pulling from her lips. Giving a little tug, he squeezed his eyes shut. “Kitten, gotta be careful,” he admitted shyly.
She smirked and took the opportunity to slide down the length of his body, kissing tattoos all along the way. Later, she wanted to ask about all of them. Not every man had a full butterfly across the width of their abdomen. Harry turned to lay back against the pillows while she settled between his legs and kissed all around his pelvic bone. How does he walk around with this thing? She wondered. She thought about it back when he was sick, and he wasn’t even hard at the time. She couldn’t imagine it like this.
Carefully, she slipped her lips over the head and the moan Harry released was practically animalistic. His hand slid through her hair by her ear, and she closed her eyes as she sank her mouth further down the length of him. “Christ,” he hissed. “Kitten, m’serious,” he mumbled. “Gotta be careful.”
She would love for him to cum immediately. It would make her feel so much better about not doing anything for months and months while he was by far the sweetest person she could have hoped to meet on that website. She gagged a bit as she moved him toward the back of her throat and Harry groaned as her mouth sucked him in further. Pulling back, she began a steady rhythm of sucking and getting him soaked with her spit. Harry gently tugged at her hair trying not to force her to do anything—not that he would, nor did he need to. She was doing such a good job he was trying not to think about good it felt so he wouldn’t cum down her throat. “That feels s’good, love,” he sighed as she worked her mouth further. With her free hand she massaged the length of him that didn’t fit in her mouth as she began bobbing her head up and down him. He groaned louder than before. “Fuck,” he murmured, and it sounded like music getting him to swear while he felt pleasure. “Stop, angel,” he whispered quietly as she kept sucking and licking. The sounds coming from her were lewder with every pass up and down his shaft. She felt the warmth between her legs making her wetter somehow.
Harry was right, she was aching. “Kitten,” he said again. A little more firmly but she couldn’t help but notice he wasn’t forcing her to stop. “Please, I don’t want t’cum in your mouth right now. I want t’feel that pretty little pussy around me.”
That shot through her right to her clit. She whined a bit as she released his cock from her lips, and she wiped the back of her hand along her mouth to remove any spit. Harry groaned again and closed his eyes tightly. He reached for the drawer beside him and produced a condom packet. “Need a taste first,” he said and pulled her up toward him. Harry was somehow everywhere at that moment. He was holding one of her hips as she was kneeling around his head, his face buried at the apex of her thighs. His mouth was devouring her, sucking her clit, and licking between her soaking lips. With what little use of her brain was left, she heard him rip the condom wrapper behind her. After a moment, both hands were on her hips, he used them to pull her closer to his mouth.
If her noises were lewd, there needed to be a whole new word for the sounds coming from Harry. She couldn’t even find it in herself to be embarrassed about how wet she was, probably soaking his face. Nor did she notice how she still body hair, she didn’t like the way her stomach looked as she was trying to keep herself upright over his face, or the fact that she hadn’t showered yet.
Then she did think about getting a shower with him afterwards and she thought she might explode right there. One niggling part of her brain managed to remind her not to put her full body weight on him, so she didn’t break his neck. But each time she lifted just a little, his hands gripped tighter on her hips. Pulling her so his mouth was almost suctioned to her.
“Such a pretty pussy,” he pulled her off him for just a minute. “M’gonna spend hours there one day,” he promised. “Tastes like heaven,” he gently maneuvered her to kneel back over his cock. She felt fucked already. Literally. She was certain the second his head even pushed near her clit she would be done for. “But I want t’feel it, kitten,” he said, and he brought her face closer to his. She gasped as she felt the way the head of his cock parted her lips so deliciously. Her eyes fluttered shut. “S’that feel good?” She nodded breathlessly. “Are you having fun, love?” He asked teasing her downright throbbing hole nearly begging for his cock inside her.
She nodded again. “Please,” she whispered so quietly. If that was the only word, she ever said during sex then Harry would have to find a way to cum more than once in a short amount of time because it was going to ruin him.
“Oh, fucking hell, beautiful,” he groaned and slid himself inside her, forgoing the teasing he wanted to extend a little longer. Her breath came out shaky as she sank lower on the length. In her mouth, she knew he was long, but it was entirely different to have him sliding into her. How he fit in, she was unsure. Of course, she was soaking wet, so it didn’t hurt painfully. But seven months of nothing but her own fingers had a slight pull on the muscles she hadn’t used in so long.
It felt so good to sink down the full length of him. He stretched her as if he was made to fit inside her. Harry was holding one hip and the other at the top of her ribcage helping her get adjusted to his cock. His head fell back against the pillow, and he let out another guttural groan that made her clench around him. “Goddammit, angel. Don’t do that or I won’t make it thirty seconds,” he hissed.
She was pathetically, practically cock-drunk already. Only managing to situate herself on him with just one pass of his length. Sinking so her clit was pressed to his pubic bone. She let out a whine as she did and then lifted herself up before she started to bounce herself up and down on him.
“Fuck,” he moaned and helped her move up and down. “S’that feel good?” He asked.
She nodded wordlessly, a tiny gasp escaping her mouth as she slid up and down. Her thighs burned almost immediately but even that felt good along with the stretch of Harry slipping against every inch inside of her. She wanted to ask if it felt good for him, but she wasn’t sure she could talk even if she wanted to.
But Harry was watching her bounce up and down as if it was the most riveting movie he had ever seen in his life. He leaned forward, wrapping his lips around one of her nipples and enjoying the small whine that came from the back of her throat as he did. He flicked his tongue around the quickly hardened nub and he pressed small little kisses around it. He wished she would moan or speak or beg...but somehow the little breath of air the whine, it was all so much better than all of it put together.
The blood flow to his cock was making him dizzy and he realized sadly he wouldn’t last nearly as long as he wanted to. He wanted to spend all day between her legs. It was heaven. Paradise. An oasis. God he was so in love with her.
He stilled her hips, and without breaking any connection between them he turned her to the side of him as he rolled on top of her in such a swift movement, she could hardly believe it. “M’not gonna last much longer,” he admitted shyly. She reached out to grab his face and pulled her toward him to kiss him in a brief pause of lust. She was still silent as she arched up toward him to get him moving again. He chuckled slightly and kissed her back with as much emotion as he could force through his lips attached to her. “Y’feel like heaven, kitten. Such a pretty little pussy,” he told her ear. She shivered and looped her arms around his back. Her fingers pressed hard against the muscles of his shoulder blades. She avoided her nails scraping into his skin because she couldn’t imagine a scenario in which someone would see his back, but surely it would be Niall at a pool or something and then she’d really have to quit her job.
Harry was thrusting into her firmly but somehow gently at the same time. Enough to make her whine against his lips. His hips snapping against her waist as she arched toward him on each thrust was making both of them dizzy. Harry grabbed her hand from his back and placed it between their bodies, so her fingers touched her clit. She gasped at the touch and wished she felt embarrassed, but she almost felt depraved wanting to cum all over him.
“Look so pretty, love,” he groaned. His forehead pressed to hers, his eyes blinking rapidly as his lips touched hers. Not really in a kiss, just taking in her breath as she played with herself. He felt her walls flutter around him. “Y’gonna cum, angel?” He asked. She nodded, again. Wishing she felt embarrassed but couldn’t. She could feel the pleasure knotting tightly in her stomach ready to burst if it got any tighter. “Good, good,” he moaned unable to make sense of his own words it seemed. “Feel s’good, love. God fucking hell,” he hissed. Each time he spoke it made her clench around him and the tingle she gave herself by circling her clit was making her messier.
Harry was stretching and pressing against every inch of her making her see stars. Before she could even realize, she was gasping, panting, alerting Harry that she was done for, as she fluttered around him rapidly. “Oh fuck, yes,” he groaned against her mouth and pulled her closer to him as he began thrusting hard and quick against her. It felt so good, her mouth open and she arched toward him, and he groaned. “Y’look,” his voice was stilted as he spoke with each thrust. “So. Fucking. Pretty. Cumming. All. Over. Me,” and she felt like she might pass out or die but would welcome it fully. “Fuck kitten,” he moaned again.
His rhythm finally stuttered, and he thrusted once more into her with a long moan. Despite the condom, she felt the way he fell apart inside her. He shivered a bit and slumped toward her, nearly breathless. His face pressed along her neck and the pillow behind her head. She reached for the back of his head, massaging her fingers along his scalp. Releasing a long breath, she felt like she could finally have a coherent thought. Still, all her thoughts surrounded the man inside and on her.
Harry carefully lifted his head back up and kissed her gently. Just brushing his lips softly with his own. He rolled off her hips, causing her to gasp at the cool air that touched her core as he did. He silently took care of the condom before falling back beside her, pulling the blanket back over them. She moved toward him, effortlessly drawn to him. Slipped over his arm and rested her head on his chest.
She couldn’t help but think that if it was going to be like that, she should have started this when she met him six months ago. Harry’s fingers trailed up and down her arm and she felt woozy and satisfied as she pressed a kiss to his skin. Another part of her thought it was still best given that he was paying her...and finally for what he was supposed to pay her for.
Harry was trying to regulate his breathing, listening for sounds of distress; or maybe her thoughts finally appearing out loud. But regardless, he was so content. So in love with her. And so very happy with the beautiful girl beside him.
--
general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @youdontcaredoyou
I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)
Summary: During night six, the brutal heatwave catches up with you, and Harry’s worst worries come true when you faint in the pit mid-show.
London, N6 — 23 June 2026
The intro begins while Harry is still backstage.
On the big screens outside, the opening visual rolls over Wembley in flashes of colour and movement, and the first wave of screams rises so loudly that the floor seems to vibrate through the soles of his shoes. Even after all these years, even after stadiums and tours and crowds so large they become their own weather, there is always a moment before he goes on where the sound reaches him before the sight does. Ninety thousand people waiting, heat trapped beneath the stadium roof, summer evening light bleeding slowly into stage darkness.
London is burning hot. England has been caught in a heatwave for days, heat that makes the city feel unreal, buses shimmering at the edges, people moving slower and drinking water like it is a personality trait. Wembley has been prepared as well as it can be prepared, with extra water points, staff briefed, paramedics stationed all around the stadium, security told to watch the pits closely, but there's only so much anyone can do when the temperature has hovered around forty degrees all day.
Harry feels it already, sweat has gathered at the back of his neck before he has even sung a single note. The air backstage is better than outside, but not cool enough to make the beads of sweat disappear from his skin. He has already drunk two bottles of water, already had someone remind him about electrolytes, already promised at least three people that he will be sensible, though he's about to walk on stage and be very much not sensible.
His band gathers near the entrance, all of them in that charged little ritual they have built across the tour. Hugs, high fives, quick jokes, someone pats his shoulder, someone else tells him to “not pass out out there,” and Harry gives them a look that says he's not accepting that energy tonight, thank you very much.
Then he turns towards you. You're standing just behind him, phone tucked away for once, arms folded loosely over your middle. You look put together because you're very good at looking put together, but Harry has been watching you all day and doesn't fully trust it. There's a faint tiredness around your eyes that makeup hasn't hidden from him, and your smile, although warm, has arrived a second late more than once today.
He reaches for your hands. “You alright?”
Your answer is immediate and sounds almost rehearsed. “I’m fine.”
Harry lifts a brow.
You roll your eyes before he can say anything else. “Harry.”
“What?”
“You’ve asked me that forty-seven times.”
“Forty-eight now.”
“I’m fine.”
He looks at you properly, thumbs brushing over the backs of your hands. “Are you really?”
The crowd screams again, louder now as the intro builds, and behind him someone calls that they're thirty seconds out. Harry hears it, but his attention remains on you.
You soften a little. “Yes, I promise.”
He still doesn't look convinced, because his worry hasn't come from nowhere.
This morning, after lazy morning cuddles that had gone on too long because neither of you wanted to peel yourselves away from each other, after breakfast in the kitchen with every window open and the fan doing its absolute best, Harry had found you on the bathroom floor, bent over the toilet, throwing up and the image had scared him more than he admitted at the time.
You had been kneeling on the cool tiles, one hand braced against the edge of the toilet seat, shoulders trembling with the force of it. He had been beside you in seconds, gathering your hair away from your face and twisting it into a loose bun with the elastic he found on the sink, one hand steady between your shoulder blades as you brought breakfast back up into the bowl.
“Easy, love,” he had murmured, helpless in the way people are helpless when someone they love is sick and all they can do is stay. “I’ve got you.”
You had groaned when it finally stopped, pale and sweaty, cheeks damp, humiliated despite the fact that Harry couldn't have cared less about anything except whether you were alright. He had flushed the toilet, dampened a cloth with cool water and wiped your mouth and chin carefully, then pressed the cloth to the back of your neck while you sat against the bathtub with your eyes closed.
“You’re staying home,” he had said.
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
“I’m fine.”
“You just threw up.”
“It’s the heat.”
“It’s still throwing up.”
You had argued with him for twenty minutes then and Harry had literally tried everything: reason, concern, bribery, stubborn silence, the look he uses when he is trying very hard not to become controlling but absolutely would like you to listen to him before he loses his mind. You had insisted you were only overheated, that you would drink water, that Wembley had air-conditioned areas, that you had work to do, that staying home would make you feel worse because you would just worry from a distance.
He hadn't felt dramatic then and he still doesn't feel dramatic now. “You remember what you promised me?” he asks quietly.
Eventually, Harry gave in, but only after making you promise more things than he usually asks of you: breaks, water constantly, shade, air-conditioning, no standing in the sun, no pretending if you felt sick, no being brave for the sake of not worrying him. You promised all of it, kissing his worried mouth and telling him he was being dramatic.
Your expression softens further, some of the teasing leaving. “I remember.”
“If anything feels off, you tell someone. Jeff, Paddy, security, anyone. I mean it.”
“I will.”
“Don’t wait until you’re properly unwell.”
“I won’t.”
“Y/n.”
“I promise.”
His eyes search your face one more time, you step closer, lifting onto your toes to kiss him. “Go have fun out there.”
He kisses you back, brief but firm, as if he can press all the instructions into your mouth and have them stay there. “Take care of yourself,” he mumbles against your lips.
“You too.”
“Love you.”
“Love you too.”
Then someone calls his cue, the intro peaks, and Harry has to let go. He runs out into Wembley and the stadium breaks open for him the way it always does.
For the first hour and a half, the show is everything it should be. Hot, yes, brutally hot, to be fair. Harry is sweating through his stage outfit faster than usual, damp hair curling at the back of his neck, water disappearing from bottles between songs. He tells the crowd to drink and points out fans who need security’s attention. The heat adds a strange electricity to the night, a sticky, shimmering intensity that makes every movement feel slightly more reckless. But he's good. He's playful, loose, alive with the crowd. He dances, jokes between songs, catches a sign that tells him a girl sold feet pics to be here which, apparently, he did too.
And he keeps looking for you. You're in the north standing pit, to his left when he's on the main stage, exactly where you told him you would be. At first, he sees you often, tucked with a few familiar crew members and fans near the back of the pit, dancing, smiling, phone out occasionally to capture something for later. You lift your water bottle every time he glances over, as if to prove you are behaving, he points at you once after you do it, and you roll your eyes visibly enough that he grins.
Good, you look alright. He tells himself that and plays on.
By the time the main set reaches the song before the encore, the stadium has settled into that warm, emotional pocket that comes before the final release. Tonight’s surprise song is Love Of My Life. Harry has his guitar strapped on, standing at the mic on the main stage, the lights dimmed softer, the pits mostly dark except for phone screens and occasional reflections and the air feels a little cooler now.
He begins the song gently, and the crowd sings with him. He gets through the first verse, the first chorus, and is just leaning into the next line when something changes to his left. At first, it's only movement at the edge of his vision. Then lights, phone torches raised not in the soft way fans do during ballads, but frantic, waving, directed towards security. People are shouting, arms pointing into the pit, the energy around that area shifting from emotional to urgent in a matter of seconds.
The stadium quiets in uneven layers, confusion moving through the crowd as Harry walks to the edge, eyes fixed on the north pit. “Is someone down over there? Do we need help?”
Harry stops singing, his right hand stills on the guitar strings, the band notices immediately, the arrangement faltering, then cutting out as he lifts one hand. “Stop, stop,” he says into the mic, already turning towards the left side of the stage. “Hold on.”
The lighting director catches on quickly, and a followspot swings towards the area Harry is pointing at, bright enough to reveal faces turned inward around a small pocket of commotion.
“Yes!” several people shout.
“Paramedics!”
Harry steps closer to the stage edge, trying to see through the raised hands and heads. Then he sees you, and for half a second, his body forgets how to move. You're near the back of the pit, not standing so much as being held upright by three fans around you. One girl has an arm around your waist, another is supporting your shoulder, and a third is trying to keep your head from dropping forward. Your face is far too pale under the sudden light, your knees visibly unreliable beneath you, eyes unfocused and rolling before you sag again against the people holding you.
No. The word doesn't actually leave his mouth, but it's everywhere in him. Every instinct he has screams at him to jump down, to get to you, to take you from strangers’ arms and carry you out himself. It's immediate and physical, almost impossible to fight. For one terrible second, he’s not Harry on stage, he's just your boyfriend watching you collapse in a crowd.
So he grips his microphone harder and forces his voice to work. “Security, can we get help there now, please? Paramedics to north standing. Right there.” He points again, clearer. “Thank you. Everyone give them space, please. Step back if you can.”
Then training, responsibility, and the sheer impossible size of the stadium snap back into place. He cannot run down there in front of ninety thousand people, not like that. Not while everyone is watching, while cameras are on him, while the show still needs to be managed properly. If he panics, everyone panics. If he makes the situation about himself, he makes it harder for the people who can actually reach you.
His mouth is dry, his hands are sweating against the guitar as two Wembley security guards reach you first, moving with practised urgency through the crowd. They take over from the fans supporting you, guiding you carefully, one at each side. Your legs wobble again, and Harry’s heart kicks so hard it makes him feel briefly dizzy himself. Then three paramedics arrive, their high-vis catching in the spotlight, and the crowd parts as much as the barricades and bodies allow. One paramedic bends to speak to you, another gestures towards the exit route. The security guards help shift you to the side, your head dipped, one of the medics supporting your arm. You're conscious, Harry thinks. Barely, maybe, but conscious.
“Thank you,” Harry says into the mic, voice lower now, aimed at the fans who had held you up and called for help. “Thank you for helping. Really. Give them room, please.”
The crowd applauds softly, nervously, in that strange way a crowd does when concern needs somewhere to go.
Then he starts Love Of My Life again. He sings it carefully, and if his eyes keep flicking to the stage exit, if his hand grips the pick a little too tightly, if the line between performer and terrified boyfriend feels thinner than it has ever felt in his life, the crowd doesn't need to know all of it.
Harry closes his eyes for one second, then he walks back to the mic stand. The guitar feels wrong in his hands now, the song feels impossible, but he has to finish. He has to trust the people around him to do their jobs, because the alternative is falling apart in front of an entire stadium and leaving everything less safe for everyone. He takes two deep breaths. “Alright,” he says, voice steady through sheer will. “We’ll keep going. Please look after each other tonight, yeah?”
Between the surprise song and the encore, the strings take over as usual, filling the stadium with a few minutes of the instrumentals of One Direction songs while Harry steps off to recover, drink water, and prepare for Sign Of The Times. This time though, he doesn't recover. He hands the guitar to a waiting crew member and heads straight for the side-stage entrance, almost running. Paddy is there, stationed where he usually is, eyes already alert because he saw the same thing everyone saw.
“Where is she?” Harry asks.
Paddy shakes his head. “They took her backstage. I saw them move her, but I don’t know where.”
Harry drags a hand over his face, trying not to let the panic push his voice too high. “Can you find her? Please. Stay with her until I’m off. Just—make sure she’s got someone familiar.”
“Of course,” Paddy says immediately.
“If they need anything, if she needs anything—”
“I’ve got her.”
Harry nods once, sharply, because gratitude is there but there's no time to say it properly before he has to go back.
Sign Of The Times feels endless, As It Was feels even longer, despite the dancing and running, despite the lights, despite the crowd giving him everything. He performs because he knows how to perform under pressure, but every part of him not required for singing is somewhere backstage with you. The lap around the stage, usually his final burst of release, becomes a route he needs to finish as fast as humanly possible and the moment the last line leaves his mouth and the outro carries him towards the exit, he runs off stage. He pushes the mic into the hand of the first crew member who appears, not even sure who it is, and sprints into the backstage corridors.
The closer he gets to his dressing room, the more he hears voices. Paramedics, Paddy, someone else speaking quietly. Harry reaches the door, pushes it open and relief hits first because you're there.
Then worry follows so closely it nearly knocks the relief away. You're on the sofa, half-reclined, legs elevated and supported by one paramedic while another adjusts the line connected to an IV cannula in the back of your hand. Paddy stands nearby holding the bag of clear fluids up, looking very serious and very steady. A third paramedic checks the monitor beside you. ECG electrodes are attached to your chest, wires leading to the portable monitor, a pulse oximeter clipped to your finger. Your skin is pale, a little clammy, your eyes open but hazy in a way that makes Harry want to be sick. He crosses the room immediately and drops to his knees beside the sofa. “Hey,” he says, taking your hand. “Love, look at me.”
Your eyes move towards him slowly, too slowly, but they find him eventually. “Harry,” you murmur.
“I’m here. I’m here, baby.” He brings your hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss to your knuckles because he needs to do something with the fear. “How are you feeling?”
You blink at him, unfocused but trying. “I’m okay.”
Harry almost laughs, but it comes out wrong. “You are absolutely not okay, love.”
You make a tiny sound of protest.
He turns to the paramedic nearest him. “What happened? Is she alright?”
The paramedic, a woman with kind eyes and a calm voice, keeps her eyes on the monitor screen. “She’s stable at the moment. Looks like a collapse from heat exhaustion and dehydration. Her blood pressure was low when we got to her, heart rate high, she was very faint and disorientated, but she’s responding to fluids. We’ve got her on monitoring now.”
“She was sick this morning,” Harry says quickly. “Vomiting, after breakfast. I wanted her to stay home, but she said it was the heat.”
The paramedic nods. “Vomiting can happen with heat illness, but it could also be a stomach bug or food poisoning that’s made the heat harder for her body to tolerate. If she hasn’t kept enough fluid down, standing in a warm crowd would make fainting much more likely.”
Harry looks back at you, thumb rubbing over your hand as he asks further. “Is it serious?”
“From what we’re seeing right now, there’s nothing immediately alarming, but I would strongly recommend we take her to A&E for assessment, bloods and monitoring, especially because she had vomiting this morning. We can’t rule everything out here.”
“Yes,” Harry says immediately. “We’ll go.”
“No,” you mumble.
Harry looks at you, clearly surprised by your protest.
Your eyes are more focused now, which is both comforting and deeply inconvenient because it means your stubbornness has also recovered enough to participate. “No hospital,” you say.
“Y/n.”
“I want to go home.”
“You fainted.”
“I know.”
“You need to be checked properly.”
“I’m being checked.”
The paramedic gives Harry a sympathetic look, then addresses you. “We can’t force you to go if you have capacity to refuse, but given what happened, it would be safest to be assessed in hospital.”
“I understand,” you say, voice weak but clear enough to make Harry’s hope collapse slightly. “I don’t want to go.”
Harry squeezes his eyes shut for half a second. “Love, please.”
You turn your head towards him. “Harry.”
“Don’t Harry me right now.”
“I hate hospitals.”
“I don’t care if you hate hospitals.”
“I want to go home.”
“I want you safe.”
“I am safe.”
“You collapsed in a pit.”
“And now I’m on a sofa.”
“That is not the argument you think it is.”
She understands. “We’ll finish the fluids and reassess. If she continues refusing transport, we’ll give you advice on what to watch for overnight. But if anything worsens, confusion, repeated vomiting, fainting again, chest pain, severe headache, difficulty breathing, anything like that, call emergency services immediately.”
Your mouth flickers like you almost smile, but you're too tired for it. Harry looks at the paramedic again, silently pleading for backup.
Harry nods, jaw tight. “I will.”
You close your eyes, exhausted by the conversation and Harry stays on his knees beside you while the IV runs. He asks twice more if you will please reconsider and you say no both times, once barely louder than a whisper. He wants to argue, properly argue, but you look so drained that he cannot bring himself to push hard enough to distress you further.
Eventually, he leans close to you. “Can I change quickly? I’m still in stage clothes. I’ll be two minutes.”
Your eyes open halfway. “Go. I’m fine.”
He really doesn't like those words tonight.
Still, he stands, squeezes your hand once, and disappears into the connected bathroom. He changes faster than he has ever changed in his life, stage outfit off, t-shirt and shorts on, a quick splash of water over his face because he looks wild even to himself in the mirror. His hair is damp, skin still flushed from the show, but none of it matters.
Harry immediately moves closer once you're helped upright, and the moment your torso lifts, your eyes close again. Harry’s hand goes to your shoulder. “Hey.”
When he comes back, the fluids are nearly finished. The paramedic removes the ECG leads and unclips the pulse oximeter, then, once the bag is empty, carefully removes the IV cannula from your hand, pressing gauze over the site before securing a small dressing. “We’re going to sit you up slowly,” she says.
“Dizzy,” you whisper.
“That’s expected with low blood pressure,” the paramedic says calmly. “Keep your head still, take slow breaths.”
You do as she says, breathing carefully through the wave until it eases. When you open your eyes again, they are still tired enough that Harry makes a decision without discussion. “You’re not walking.”
You look at him.
“No arguments,” he says.
You don't argue, and that frightens him more than if you had.
He crouches slightly. “Arms around me.”
You sigh against his shoulder when he lifts you bridal style, one arm beneath your knees, the other around your back. Your head rests against him immediately, and he feels the full weight of your exhaustion in the way your body gives in.
Paddy opens the door before Harry even turns. “Car’s ready,” he says.
“Thank you,” Harry murmurs.
The journey through the backstage corridors feels strange, too quiet now that the show is over. Paddy walks ahead, opening doors and clearing the path, making sure no one stops you, no one asks questions, no one tries to turn a worrying private moment into something public. Harry carries you carefully, feeling your breath warm through the fabric of his t-shirt.
At the car, Paddy opens the passenger door and Harry lowers you into the seat with impossible care, buckles your belt, then checks it once because he needs his hands to be busy or he will start shaking.
Before he walks around the car, he turns to Paddy. “Thank you, really.”
Paddy nods. “Call me if you need anything. Any time tonight.”
“I will.”
“I mean it.”
Harry nods again, gratitude heavy in him. “I know.”
The drive back to Hampstead is mostly quiet, Harry only asks once, “You alright?”
You nod, eyes on the window, face turned towards the dark blur of London. He wants words, but he can see how tired you are, so he rests one hand on your knee instead, warm and steady, and keeps it there the whole way home.
By the time he pulls into the driveway, you're half-asleep. You try to stand when he opens your door, but he gives you a look. “No.”
“I can walk.”
“No.”
“Harry.”
“I said no.”
There's no sharpness in it, only an absolute decision that makes you let him carry you.
He carries you through the front door, up the stairs, and into the bedroom, setting you down on the bed as if you might bruise from the mattress. He kneels to take off your shoes, then helps you out of your clothes with a gentleness that makes your eyes sting all over again. You're not sad of course, but being cared for so completely sometimes feels like its own undoing.
He pulls one of his soft shirts over your head, guiding your arms through, smoothing the fabric down over your thighs. “Bathroom?” he asks.
You nod and he carries you there too. Usually, you would complain. Usually, you would tell him you have legs, that you're not a Victorian consumptive heroine, that he cannot carry you around every time you look slightly tired. Tonight, you only lean into him and let him place you on the edge of the bathtub.
Harry gathers what he needs from memory. He reaches for your cleansing balm first, not the wipes you only use when you're desperate, scooping a small amount into his fingers and warming it between them like he has watched you do a hundred times. He crouches in front of you, careful and slow. “Close your eyes for me, love.”
You do and his fingertips move over your face with astonishing softness, dissolving makeup from your skin, around your eyes, over your cheeks, along your jaw. He's so focused that you almost laugh, except you’re too tired and too touched.
“Am I doing it right?” he asks.
“Mhm.”
“Don’t lie to spare my feelings.”
“You’re doing it right.”
“Good.”
He wipes the balm away with a warm damp cloth, rinsing it twice, then helps you wash your face properly over the sink, one hand steady at your waist in case you sway. He squeezes toothpaste onto your toothbrush and hands it to you, then stands close while you brush, ready to catch you if dizziness returns.
Afterwards, he pats your face dry with a towel. “Night cream?” he asks.
You blink at him. “You know which one?”
Harry looks mildly offended. “I’m not an amateur.”
He opens the cabinet and chooses correctly and then you watch, almost deliriously fond, as he dots moisturiser over your forehead, cheeks and chin, then smooths it in with careful upward strokes, copying the way you do it at night.
“You’ve been studying,” you murmur.
“I’m very observant.”
“You use too much of mine.”
“I’m learning portion control.”
“You better.”
He smiles faintly, then reaches for your hairbrush. “Hair?”
You nod, too soft to tease.
He stands behind you and brushes your hair slowly, starting at the ends because he knows you once scolded him for beginning too high and pulling through tangles like a caveman. Tonight, he's patient, gentle, one hand holding the section above the brush so it does not tug at your scalp. When he finishes, he ties it loosely the way you like for sleeping.
Then he looks at you in the mirror. “There,” he says quietly. “Beautiful.”
You look pale and exhausted, eyes heavy, borrowed shirt slipping off one shoulder, but the way he says it makes you believe him for a second. “Thank you,” you whisper.
Harry presses a kiss to your temple. “Always.”
He takes you back to bed, tucks you in properly, then opens a bottle of water and hands it to you. “Small sips.”
You obey.
“I’m going to shower quickly,” he says. “I’ll be right back.”
“Take your time.”
“I won’t.”
“I’m fine.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because I am.”
He looks at you for a moment, then leans down and kisses your forehead. “Two minutes.”
It's closer to seven in the end, but you don't hold it against him.
When he comes back, freshly showered, hair damp, skin smelling like soap and him, you're still awake. He switches off the main light, leaves the small bedside lamp on low, and climbs into bed beside you. The mattress dips, and as you shift towards him automatically, he gathers you into his side. You rest your cheek against his chest, one arm draped carefully over his stomach while his hand moves to your back, slow and soothing.
“How are you feeling now?” he asks.
“Tired.”
“I know.”
“But better.”
“Nauseous?”
“A little. Not awful.”
“Dizzy?”
“No.”
“Headache?”
“Small.”
He kisses your hair. “You scared me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not saying it to make you sorry.”
“I know.”
“I just need you to know.”
You press your face closer to him. “I know.”
For a few minutes, the room settles. The window is cracked open, but the air outside is still warm. Harry’s heartbeat is steady beneath your ear. But then it changes, just a little quicker, then quicker again. You frown against his chest, eyes opening. “Harry?”
“Hm?”
“Why is your heart racing?”
He is quiet for a moment too long, so you lift your head slightly, looking at him in the low light. “What?”
You blink. “What?”
He stares at the ceiling for a second, then looks down at you. There's a new expression on his face now, one you cannot quite place. Nervous? Careful? As if a thought has just arrived and he doesn't know where to put it. “What if you’re pregnant?”
Harry shifts slightly, not away from you, just enough to look at you properly. “I know you probably aren’t. I know. But the jacket potato thing the other night, the weird craving, then being sick this morning, fainting tonight…”
You stare at him. “I have the implant,” you say.
“I know.”
“It’s very effective.”
“I know.”
“Very.”
“I know, love. But not one hundred percent.”
Everything goes very still around the possibility, and you look away first. “I don’t think I’m pregnant.”
Harry watches you carefully. “When did you last have your period?”
You hesitate and that hesitation answers more than you want it to. “I’m due,” you say.
“Due now?”
“Around now.”
Harry doesn't say anything immediately, neither do you.
The fear that moves through you isn't simple. It's not a no, not exactly, but it's not a yes either. It's the size of the question, the way it opens a door you and Harry have stood near but never properly walked through. You have talked about children, briefly, tenderly, in the abstract way couples do when they're in love enough to imagine futures but not yet ready to schedule them. You know he wants a family one day, you know you do too. But one day is very different from right now.
Now there's a world tour waiting after London. Your work, his work, your life moving at a speed that already feels barely containable. The thought of a positive test lands in you with both wonder and terror, and you hate that terror is there at all.
Harry sees it flickering across your face, of course he does. “I’m not saying you are,” he says softly. “I just think we should check.”
“I’m not pregnant.”
“Okay.”
“I’m not.”
“Okay.”
“You don’t believe me.”
“I believe that you don’t think you are.”
You huff weakly, but there's no real irritation behind it.
He touches your cheek, thumb brushing gently. “We’ll buy a test in the morning. Just to rule it out.”
You close your eyes. “I don’t know if I want to know.”
Harry goes quiet for a beat, then he pulls you a little closer. “Whatever it says, we’ll be alright.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
“Harry.”
“I do,” he repeats, not forceful, just steady. “If it’s negative, we deal with whatever actually made you faint and make sure you’re better. If it’s positive…” He pauses, because even he seems to need a second with that word. “Then we breathe, and we talk, and we figure it out together. Not all at once, but together.”
Your eyes sting again. “I’m scared,” you admit, so quietly it almost disappears into his shirt.
Harry kisses your forehead. “I know.”
“I don’t even know what I’m scared of.”
“That’s alright.”
“It’s not that I wouldn’t…” You stop, unable to finish.
“I know,” he says again, and somehow he does.
His hand moves over your back, grounding and familiar. “Tomorrow,” he murmurs. “We’ll just start with tomorrow.”
“In the morning.”
You nod because tomorrow is small enough to hold. For tonight, there's only your bed, his arms, the low bedside light and the heat pressed outside the windows. Your body feels emptied out and heavy, but safer now, wrapped around his warmth. “You’ll buy a test?” you ask sleepily.
“And if it’s nothing?”
“Then I’ll still fuss over you for at least three days.”
You manage a faint smile. “Only three?”
“Five if you’re difficult.”
“I’m always difficult.”
“Then make it a week.”
Your smile fades into a yawn, Harry kisses you gently, careful not to ask too much from your tired body. “Sleep now.”
“Love you,” you murmur.
“I love you too.”
Your eyes are already closing when he adds, voice low and full of the softness he has kept for you all night, “Goodnight, my sweet love. I’ve got you.”
You're asleep before you can answer.
Harry stays awake a while longer, one hand resting against your back, counting the steadiness of your breathing, listening to the warm London night outside and the quieter, more frightening possibility now lying between you. Whatever tomorrow brings, he keeps you close, and he won't let go.
Thank you so much for the love and support on this story. She and Harry have definitely turned into one of my favorite couples I've had the pleasure of writing about. As an aside, I will be posting a long overdue "how my taglist works" (because I a tumblr-elder and don't know what I'm doing anymore). But for those of you that have been tagged throughout the series, please check out the message at the bottom.
This is the final part (not including the extras I have lined up.) There's a bit of angst and a good bit of fluff. It follows part ten immediately and I also continued with marking the days/time because I think it made it a bit easier to follow.
Truly, really, thank you so much. Part 1-11 is 67k words and I’ve enjoyed typing each one. I hope you continue to enjoy reading. Without further ado:
--
“She gave it back,” he said stiffly. His throat was catching on to the words.
“Gave what back?” Niall asked curiously. “The apartment?”
Harry felt his entire body freeze over with a new fear that Niall mistakenly unlocked. It truly felt like his body was made of ice. He grabbed at his phone anxiously calling the apartment complex’s main line. He had to suffer through prompts before he could finally talk to a person. He asked if it looked as if anyone was moving stuff from his apartment (although he would have given it to her at this point).
Monday
“I’ll kill him,” Louis shouted, almost proudly as he entered the apartment. She shook her head and just burst into tears as she told him about all the things Harry did. While he was prepared to murder him, Louis’ heart softened with each task Harry completed to make sure his best friend was cared for. It was everything he ever hoped for the girl he thought of as one of his own sisters. He wouldn’t kill Harry. He couldn’t...not if he did all that for her.
Eleanor combed her fingers through her hair while the poor girl cried in her lap. Louis was frowning, glancing at Eleanor every so often as she spoke. “Babe,” Louis whispered when she finished her story.
She sniffled. “I don’t know why I did that,” she croaked. “That was so stupid, who does that? You should have seen the look on his face. He’s never going to forgive me.”
“Of course, he will,” Eleanor said easily shaking her head. Her voice was so solid, like she had already talked to Harry about it and knew with every fiber of her being. Louis crouched beside her wiping the tears out of her eyes as comfortingly as he could. “Harry loves you, darling,” Eleanor reminded her.
“Why was I so mean?” She choked on another sob. “I’d hate me. I was so heartless.”
“You were overwhelmed, love,” Eleanor promised. “That was a lot to take in, all in one day. But he meant the best and brightest for you. You have to believe that. Harry has never done anything but try to make sure you’re taken care of.”
She took in a shaking breath as more tears poured out of her; she was so unhappy with how she handled the whole day. Maybe she was overwhelmed. That would at least have made some sense. There was so much to be overwhelmed about. Everything she had been bottling up. All of which was threatening to burst because it just had to be one of those weeks where it all just piled and piled until it all crumbled down.
“Babe,” Louis whispered trying to stop the tears from falling but failing because they kept coming faster than he could swipe her cheeks. “C’mon.”
“I know you all went to the funeral for my dad,” she sniffled. She may as well have wallowed in the hurt a bit more. They needed to know she knew. “I know they had one...I saw it in the online obituary.”
They were silent for a minute. Louis didn’t move his eyes from hers for a moment. He pressed his lips together in a thin line. So of course, she knew she was right. They did hide it from her.
However, Louis wasn’t going to forget that she let them hide it. He stared at Eleanor for a moment; having some silent conversation that only the two of them could have. The entire time she continued crying. Eleanor gave her a comforting squeeze as best she could with her sprawled across her lap.
“I think you’re scared,” Eleanor whispered without addressing her comment about the services.
“El,” Louis’ voice wasn’t a whisper like it had been directed at the sobbing girl. His tone wasn’t gentle. It was like he was warning her not to continue.
“Scared of what?” She sniffed because she may have heard the warning in Louis’ voice, but she was already miserable. It couldn’t be worse than what she felt.
“Tell her, Louis. Tell her,” Eleanor begged. She turned her attention back to her best friend.
Louis reminded her so much of her brother, she wondered if he would have been as wise as Louis was if he were still around. Even for the goofball he made himself out to be, Louis was nearly sagely at his age. He was the one she went to for advice. The one she asked for help when she needed to get Harry a birthday gift. If she was stuck in the middle of nowhere, she was pretty sure she would still call Louis first. He was her best friend because he always knew what to say to her and even if it was hard to hear he always told her the hard truths.
She could see on his face that it was going to hurt to lay whatever he was about to say in front of her if only because she was already so heartbroken. “Being cared for,” he bit the inside of his lip, but he didn’t break his gaze with her. “You think it’s a death sentence,” he told her. His tone was soothing, even though the words were not. “Because when your brother came to get you, he tragically died. Don’t think I’m forgetting that. But then, your parents stopped caring for you...so it was like...you associated the two,” he explained. “And then, you didn’t tell me. So, in your mind, caring for you is a death sentence for those that love you.”
She was speechless. Her sniffles slowed, which allowed her to sit in the upright position, but Eleanor still had her arm wrapped around her shoulders. She swallowed as she listened to him speak without hiccupping on her breath. “Do you really think we wouldn’t have let you live with us?” Eleanor asked softly from beside her. “The only one that thought you needed to get your own space was you...and don’t get me wrong, I’m happy that you got Harry out of the deal, but you could have lived with us for forever,” she smiled gently at her.
She stared at the two of them and Louis looked at her tear-stained face with a frown. “Love,” he said so gently. “You have spent so long building up walls making sure you take care of everyone in your life because the last time you stopped taking care of someone else and had fun of your own, something horrible and tragic happened,” She looked away from him, sniffling uncontrollably. “But it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t. No matter how many times your mum says it was...no matter how many times you sit next to his gravestone and feel guilty for it. He would have gone and got you and he would have turned that steering wheel to protect you over, and over, and over again,” she couldn’t look at Louis when he talked about it. It was his best friend, and she just took him away forever...all for a party. “I would have done it for you, babe,” he promised. She hated the idea of that too so much that she let out another whimpering sob. “Now, so would Harry,” he told her, and the pang of anxiety at the mere idea Harry would fatally hurt for her rippled all through her body she felt sick at the idea...it hurt all the way to her toes and made her fingertips feel numb.
But Louis pressed on making it hurt even more but with every intention of making it better. “You can’t keep your guard up forever. You can’t stop people from taking care of you because you miss him and worry about the consequences of them taking care of you,” he said. “We all take that risk for someone we love,” he brushed the tears off her cheeks once more as they were finally slowing to a pace he could keep up with. She refused to look at him. But Louis wouldn’t accept that. “Babe,” he said turning her chin back to him. “Let someone else take care of you. Let Harry do it. You’ve done it for long enough.”
*
Tuesday
Niall found Harry throwing the lamp on his desk against the wall of his office so hard he was surprised the wall didn’t shatter. But the lamp certainly did. Nearly splintered into a hundred pieces. He flopped into his desk chair and hung his head practically between his knees.
“Christ, the two of you today,” he grumbled hoping to find Harry in better shape than his typically better mood intern. Obviously, that would not be the case. “What’s wrong?” He asked, closing the door.
Harry ran a hand over his face. He wanted to cry but he was at work, and he shouldn’t have. “She gave it back,” he said stiffly. His throat was catching on to the words.
“Gave what back?” Niall asked curiously. “The apartment?”
His gaze snapped up to Niall and he mouthed the word whoa. If Niall said it out loud, he didn’t hear it. He was shocked by the redness of Harry’s eyes, the withdrawn look. He knew it was bad when she could hardly keep track of what she was doing this morning. It was worse than when her coffee spilled all over her things a few months ago.
But seeing his best friend so distressed…
Harry felt his entire body freeze over with a new fear that Niall mistakenly unlocked. It truly felt like his body was made of ice. He grabbed at his phone anxiously calling the apartment complex’s main line. He had to suffer through prompts before he could finally talk to a person. He asked if it looked as if anyone was moving stuff from his apartment (although he would have given it to her at this point).
He was awarded the slightest bit of relief to hear the word “no” at the other end. It washed over him as he rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah, alright. Thanks,” he mumbled hanging up. He sat in his chair, and he glanced at Niall balling his hands into fists. “She gave back all the money,” he mumbled.
Niall did the easy and quick calculations in his head regarding the last eight or so months. “Whoa.”
Harry told him all about the reference calls, the graduation ceremony, and the lawyers’ meeting with her mum, and the good news. He told Niall how he paid for her student loans and kept all of it hidden from her. Harry tried to hide the tears in his eyes, but Niall knew they were there in his voice as he listened.
“Harry...you gotta just talk to her.”
“M’pretty sure she hates me.”
“That’s a load of shit, alright,” Niall said knowingly. “She loves you.” Harry felt his heart hoping a bit by way of fluttering against his ribs. He shook his head. He didn’t want to hope because she looked betrayed, and it was all his fault. Niall shook his head. “She’s all snively and you’re all angry. You two are quite the pair. You could have a show.”
He wanted to throw something at Niall, but he was too exhausted to hold his head up, let alone hold anything worth throwing—and he wouldn’t really throw something at his best friend. So, he sat there, devastated that she gave him the money back. It worried him to the core. It seemed his new fear of her leaving that apartment was going to be real, sooner rather than later.
And if she left Styles Incorporated…
“She said that you needed this today,” Niall shrugged and put a folder on Harry’s desk in front of him. He winced knowing she was still helping even when she was upset with him. “Tragic that I have to play messenger,” he shook his head. “I hope you talk to her.”
But Harry didn’t want to press. It was obvious he pressed too much and now he had to wait for her to forgive him.
Maybe.
*
Wednesday
She didn’t come to work.
There was nothing else to say.
There was nothing he could think about except that she didn’t come to work.
He didn’t get to see her. All day and an entire near-sleepless night. He impulsively shopped for items scheduled to be delivered the following day. Items he didn’t need but he needed to get for her...even if she never set foot in his house again.
There was nothing else he could think about.
*
Thursday
Niall brought his tea to him that afternoon.
So, a new nightmare plagued him, and he continued to think of nothing else but the distance she was putting between them.
*
Friday
For the second time in his life, and moreover, the second time within a year, Harry left work early. Niall was insistent. He was agitated beyond belief, his one meeting he was completely distracted that Niall did most of the talking. Harry’s company was substantial, but surely, she couldn’t avoid him on the entire floor.
But she did. She managed somehow to avoid him even when he kept going in and out of Niall’s office and thereby walking through her little space. But she wasn’t there a single of the seven or so times he walked through. At one point he walked in for the sake of walking in. Niall was on the phone with a client. Harry just shook his head and left before even registering the fact Niall was there.
It was after the meeting that Niall encouraged him to leave for the day. “I don’t need to,” he snapped at his friend. “Jus’ get on with it,” he muttered.
Niall sighed, blew a long breath out his mouth. He packed his belongings from off the table and patted Harry on the back. “Meeting’s over, Harry,” he said and left him alone in the conference room.
He knew he was in tough shape but not even realizing the meeting was over seemed bad even for the way he was feeling. Rubbing the back of his head, he headed once more to Niall’s office. This time he wasn’t surprised she wasn’t there. Harry apologized to Niall quickly, returned to gather his stuff from his office, and left for home.
*
“Harry went home, so you don’t have to keep hiding,” Niall rolled his eyes as she tentatively tiptoed into her office. He didn’t look up, so he didn’t see the way she nearly dropped all of the papers in her arms at Niall’s sudden (accurate) accusation that she was hiding.
She bit her lip and put the papers on her desk. Niall didn’t look up as she walked toward his desk. “I yelled at him,” she whispered.
“Good, he probably deserved it,” Niall said simply. “People don’t yell at him enough. Think because he’s CEO, he’s without a flaw,” he shrugged. “He’s not, I’ve never seen him finish one document on his own because he never remembers how to fill it out. The man can’t multiply to save his life—I always do the tip at the restaurant. He has a terrible signature on contracts. It’s embarrassing to sign my name next to his. Also, he has a terrible handicap even though he’s been golfing for at least seven or so years now,” he said as if that should be the reason that she could yell at him. He looked up and smiled at her because it was an attempt to make her laugh but didn’t seem to do the trick.
“He’s also really cranky when he doesn’t see you at night now,” this was much softer said. His voice quiet as he further explained this. “And he bothers me. Called me at one in the morning last night asking if I wanted a porch swing. Do you know he has an online shopping problem? It’s worst when he's upset. He panic-ordered three sets of dishware when you got burned,” he continued. Her heart fluttered at the mention of a porch swing. It shot through her like a bolt of electricity. That was because of her. She knew it. But Niall’s attempt still got him not even a smirk. “You should probably go after him,” he smiled at her sadly once more. “You need to talk to him.”
She shook her head. “He won’t forgive me.”
Niall rolled his eyes again. “Would you forgive him if this whole crazy scenario was reversed?”
She looked at her feet because she wouldn’t even need to forgive him. It would be a non-issue. “I see why Harry made you his sous-chef around here,” she muttered...because yes, of course she would. Probably before he even tried to apologize, at that.
“I knew there was a reason,” he winked at her. “Have a lovely weekend, darling,” he said going back to the documents on his desk.
“Are you sure?” She whispered after a moment.
“He loves you. I promise.”
“But all the other interns...the...companions. I’d be no different falling all over him.”
“He fell for you long before you did,” he told her simply.
She swallowed, blushing at the notion. Her stomach flipped with hope. “Do you know he went to the funeral?” She whispered.
Niall frowned because he didn’t know that, but he did know that had to hurt her. He looked back up to meet her gaze and he smiled gently at her. “Another reason you should yell at him.”
“You’re a really good friend, Niall,” she rolled her eyes.
“Can’t wait to be one of your best friends, love,” he winked.
She took one more deep breath, hurried over to Niall’s desk. She kissed his cheek as he worked. He smiled. “Sorry I’m taking your job,” she whispered to him.
He threw his head back a bit and laughed. “I’d like to see you try,” but he didn’t mind, really. It would be worth it to have her around.
*
The driver was waiting at the edge of the cemetery. She took her wedges off so she wouldn’t get them covered in dirt as she sat cross-legged on the ground. She fiddled with the flowers—Eleanor probably planted them. Or maybe even her mom. She was surprised because there weren’t as many weeds pushing through the ground as there should have been—especially when she took notice of the other stones nearby. “I think you’d really like him,” she whispered. Of course, there was no response. “Louis likes him,” she told him. “So...there’s that,” she shrugged. “And he has a porch swing,” she added. “We’re not even together and he still didn’t cheat on me, so he beat the last guy, y’know?” she smirked sadly. “I wish you could’ve met him...”
She paused, looking around the grounds for a moment before she continued. “If you look, you can see a car over there, yeah? That poor man has to follow me everywhere because Harry doesn’t want me to get stuck without a ride in inclement weather or something,” she whispered, smiled sadly. “I’m so in love with him, I swear I can feel it in the atoms of my heart,” her eyes watered. “I gave him all the money back. I want him to know that I’m not...I don’t want money. I just want him,” she told him. “I know you would probably hate the idea of me being in love with anyone...but at least I waited until college...poor El stuck with Louis for the rest of her life,” she sighed as if it really were a tragedy. But it wasn’t. She loved Eleanor and Louis so much.
“Niall said he’s really bad at golf though, so you could still make fun of him about something,” she let out a watery laugh. “I miss you...so much,” she whispered. “I hope Dad is happy again,” she glanced over at the nearby plot of land. “He missed you,” she sniffled. “We all miss you,” her voice cracked. “Okay...I’m gonna go grovel for forgiveness, now,” she said. “I’ll see you soon,” she kissed two of her fingers and pressed them over his name before getting off the ground, brushing the dirt off, and headed for the car.
“Are you alright, Miss?” He asked with the utmost concern. He was opening the door for her as she approached.
She nodded, sniffling, and wiping her eyes. “For now,” she sighed. “Can you bring me to Harry’s?” She asked.
*
Harry didn’t want to answer the door. But whoever was on the other side knocked, then rang the doorbell. Knocked again. Doorbell again. Persistent.
If it was Niall coming to console him, he was going to kill him, simple as that. “For fucks sake,” he grumbled marching to the door in an angry fit. “Niall, y’made me leave early, and I did. What d’you want?” He snapped loud enough to hear through the door before ripping it out of the way.
She flinched at his harsh tone. Her eyes were puffy and red. She looked so defeated as she turned her gaze to the ground. His heart hammered against his ribs in total shock that she was there. Left him utterly speechless. “I know this is stupid...” she started. “I’m sorry. It’s not enough because you deserve so much more than sorry. It’s never going to be enough, but I am so... very sorry. I was...” she shook her head. “It doesn’t matter what I was. What I said was so hurtful and so untrue. You have to believe that,” she was staring at her feet while she spoke. “Harry,” her voice cracked, and she was so worried it wasn’t enough. He didn’t make any noise and she was certain if he didn’t forgive her, she would die in that spot. “I know you didn’t mean anything by what you did other than to help me. But I don’t accept help very well... in case it wasn’t obvious. Especially when it comes to something like...my career or my...past,” she explained. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you; I shouldn’t have said such awful things and I would time travel back to that moment and slap myself for even thinking about speaking to you like that. It was horrible,” she shook her head. “I’ll beg every day for as long as you want if you’ll forgive me,” she whispered. “I am—”
Harry pulled her into his arms suddenly, one arm around her waist, the other snaking up her back to hold the back of her head. He clutched her against him as tightly as he could without hurting her or inhibiting her breathing. “You were already forgiven,” he murmured breathing deeply into her hair. He kissed the side of her face. She released a long breath and buried her face against the side of his neck.
“You shouldn’t give in so easily,” she sniffled clinging back to him like he was a buoy. Of course, he kept her afloat.
“I’ll yell at you later if that’ll make you feel better.”
She nodded. “It really would.”
He smiled, kissed the side of her head again. Harry wouldn’t yell at her if his life depended on it. “I jus’ want t’take care of you,” he promised. “That’s it.”
“I know, you told me that first day you messaged me.” He smirked thinking about how a year ago, she wasn’t in his mind at all. He didn’t even know she existed. Now, he thought about spending one second without her beside him and it seemed like full-blown torture. “Louis said I take care of everyone else because the last time someone cared about me, they died,” she said bluntly. “Seven years of therapy and Louis was the only one who said it,” she muttered. Harry was glad she was tucked below his chin because he couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face. It was incredible she could make a joke in even the saddest of circumstances. She took a shivering, heaving breath. Harry tried to pull back so he could see her, but she squeezed him in place. Like she didn’t want to say it while looking at him. He nodded in encouragement for her to continue. “People will know if you hire me. You’d literally be making a position for me. And so… I thought if I got a job elsewhere... we could…” she swallowed the lump in her throat. She tucked her face deeper in his shoulder. “I…uh...”
He pulled back this time and didn’t stop when she tried to hold him in place. He pressed his hand to the side of her face and rubbed his thumb over her cheek. “Thought we could be a real couple?” He asked softly.
Her cheeks turned red as ever and she nodded. “Yes,” she whispered.
He didn’t pause for even half a second. He didn’t want her to make her feel embarrassed or worried about anything regarding their future. “Kitten, m’so in love with you, I don’t care if we tell the entire world. I don’t care if everyone knows or if no one knows. All that matters t’me is that I love you so much.”
Her eyes watered and her heart melted. She didn’t know how to tell him she loved him so much it hurt but he said it so beautifully and without a care. She didn’t know how to articulate it as perfectly as he did. “They should really put a warning on that site about how you may accidentally find your soul mate.”
He managed to smile this time for just a mere moment as she spoke; his heart skipped beats waiting for her to say she loved him back. While she didn’t say it exactly as he thought she would (but when did she ever do what he expected?), it was exactly what he wanted her to say and meant just as much if not even more.
Then he kissed her so deeply he thought he might bruise her lips. But if he did, he thought she might not even mind.
*
Harry lifted her legs, so they were wrapped around his hips. He carried her all the way to the kitchen, pausing only to kick the door closed. He settled her on the counter and started looking for some medicine. He didn’t ask if her head hurt because the redness in her eyes told him it was aching.
“You have t’take the money back,” Harry said leaning down to take her shoes off as she swallowed the medicine. He tossed them toward the TV room. “I shattered a lamp over it,” he stood back up and kissed her again on the forehead.
“Niall told me,” she smirked at him. He stood between her knees.
“Can’t have any secrets with him,” Harry muttered.
She giggled and Harry pressed his lips to hers again then pulled back so he could hold her face between his hands. He smiled at her with a shake of his head. “God, you’re beautiful,” he mumbled.
“Mm... the bloodshot eyes? The tired dark circles? The gray skin? That does it for you?”
“M-hmm,” he pressed his nose along the side of her face inhaling the mixture of her hair and soap. He didn’t cater to her insults to herself. “Take the money back,” he mumbled into her ear and pressed a series of kisses down the length of her neck. She shook her head trying to ignore the dizziness she felt from his lips on her skin. “Please kitten,” he was begging. Objectively, it was adorable. But she couldn’t accept it.
“Baby, you can’t pay me a salary, pay my student loans, and let me live here all—”
“You’re going t’live here?” He pulled back from her neck suddenly with a sparkle in his eyes that made it look like he was a little kid. Like it was Christmas, and he was getting the sled he asked for.
Her face was definitely not gray at that moment. She was completely blushing almost beyond recognition at her mistaken words. She shook her head quickly, trying to backtrack (uselessly). “No! I meant the apartment! I didn’t say that—”
“Please, please, please,” he now for sure, full-on begged. “Please live here, kitten.”
Her heart fluttered and she bit her lip trying to recover from how much she had revealed by accident. “Well...what am I supposed to do with all my great IKEA furniture?” She asked.
He rolled his eyes and pressed his face back into her neck. She wrapped her arms and legs around him clinging to him. “Throw it out, of course.”
“You’re so mean.”
He nodded against her and sighed, so happy she was there. So happy she was all his. “The meanest,” he assented. “Please live here,” he mumbled kissing the curve where her shoulder and neck met.
“You do have a porch swing,” she amended verbally but as if she were weighing the consideration in her head. His lips on her skin had such an effect on her it was hard to stand her ground or concentrate on joking around with him about the idea. “Speaking of—Niall told me you asked if he wanted one. Are you getting a new one or someth—what’s that?” She asked, glancing out the window as she spoke. She pushed him away immediately, rushing outside. She stood on his porch in total shock staring at his newest purchase before she turned back to him with a curious expression.
He followed behind her and stood in the doorway. “You said you would sleep out here if you could,” he shrugged. “I thought I’d make it possible...in case you ever came back.”
Where her favorite porch swing used to hang, was now a spacious, gorgeous, porch bed with so many pillows, so many blankets, and it nearly looked comfier than her lovely mattress back at the apartment. Her eyes watered and she swallowed so hard because she knew she had said that nearly three months ago in passing. And he remembered. So even when she wasn’t speaking to him, it was enough that he did something for her without knowing if she’d really be back. “You are something else, Harry.”
“Wait till y’see my new canopy bed,” he smirked feeling his cheeks warm at her compliment. Her heart nearly stopped because the canopy was mentioned almost nine months ago and the idea that he remembered anything from nine months ago was...well it was very Harry and very perfect.
“Baby, I love you and your impulse shopping so very much,” she whispered unable to look away from that beautiful reminder of how much he adored her. It made her feel so light that he cared for her so much. Now that he did, it was hard to imagine not feeling like this ever again.
Harry had other ideas though. He twisted her so quickly, her breath caught in her throat. He turned her back to face him and not the new bed. One arm wrapped around her waist, and he brought his other hand to her cheek in the one instant that she couldn’t even stumble because Harry had such a tight hold on her. He smiled at her, as if he was just told he won the lottery. Truly, he felt like he did. “Say it again,” he mumbled pressing his forehead to hers, his lips almost brushing hers as he spoke. She smiled shyly, the heat coming from her cheek warmed Harry’s hand.
“Say what? I love you?” She asked looping her arms loosely around his neck. He nodded silently and kissed the tip of her nose. “I love you,” she grinned so cutely Harry thought he would burst.
“Again,” he mumbled smiling as he carefully squeezed around her waist to lift her just so her toes hovered above the ground. She giggled.
“I love you.”
He kissed her left cheek. “More,” he inched toward the new outdoor bed.
“I love you,” she whispered, giggling more at his sweet request as he kissed her right cheek.
“Again,” he repeated.
“I love you, so, so much Harry Styles,” she whispered, holding his face between her hands, and Harry laid her back on the bed and kissed her again, fully on the lips with no intention of leaving that space for the rest of the weekend. Or until she asked to go see the canopy bed.
I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :) When I do the extras/check-in blurbs I will tag you in those as well (unless you don't want to be, just lmk) Thank you all so much for being part of this nice little taglist for me, it's very special to me 💕
We are getting to the end of what I believe is the main storyline here. Maybe one or two more parts but I already have at least three little extras lined up in my head too.
Additionally, I added in the days because it was kind of getting all over the place and I wanted to make sure the timeline wasn't too confusing--especially since we're winding down on days until the internship is over. I hope it doesn't detract from the story. Also, another reminder I don't know anything about running a business.
This part has some minor character death/trauma mentioned, sensitive topics, grief, angst, and I may or may not have cried a bit while writing, so that should put it in perspective I think. Try not to hate me at the end I don't think you're going to like it. Thank you, thank you, thank you for continuing to read.
Just wanted to hear your voice, kitten. Didn’t get to see you much today other than tea. Get some sleep, of course. I’ll see you tomorrow. Sleep well, love.
So now she texted him: I’m awake now if you want to hear my voice.
The phone rang almost instantly. “Hi,” she whispered.
“S’like music,” he said sleepily. She giggled. “That’s a symphony,” he murmured.
Friday
Louis and Eleanor were lying on her couch (and one another) while she lay on the rug in front of the coffee table, facing the TV. Her phone vibrated with a message from Harry.
Can we chat sometime today?
That sounds like a terrible way to break up with me. Don’t tell your other girls that.
Don’t be ridiculous, kitten. All of it.
I’ll call you when Louis and El leave.
I’ll be waiting impatiently.
“Must be Harry. She definitely doesn’t smile at Niall’s messages like that,” Louis chuckled.
She rolled her eyes and tilted her head back to her friends. They were watching a movie trying to decide where to eat or if they should order in. It was a regular, run of the mill day. They worked their Friday shifts and now they were lying about her pretty apartment that she hardly felt she’d been spending any time in. Mondays of course were still dinner out with Harry, Thursdays were movie nights at his place (and with any luck something a bit cheekier, now), and she spent many Saturday nights at his place sleeping beside him until one in the morning where they spoke quietly, candidly about anything. In the morning, she woke up to a rotation of pancakes, waffles, or French toast.
And kisses.
She woke up to a ton of kisses.
So, this Friday evening, she spent with Louis and Eleanor watching a movie that was so trashy it was wonderful. “How’s the job search?” Louis asked.
She frowned. The one sore spot that seemed to get sorer each passing day. “I really thought interning at Styles Incorporated was going to give me a leg up,” she sighed. “I don’t know... I’ve applied to some top places and they’ve either passed or ghosted me. Maybe I need to lower my standards.”
“Absolutely not,” Eleanor said immediately. “You deserve the top. You deserve it all,” she said.
Smiling, she looked at Eleanor, snuggled under Louis who was draped across her lap, and he winked at her. “You deserve the very best, babe,” he told her.
She shrugged and let out a sad sigh. “I don’t think these places think I do though,” she mumbled. “But it’s fine...I... I don’t know... I’ll figure it out. I’m not going to let it stop me now. Another month and I’ll be done.”
There was a pause. “Speaking of,” Louis began. “I’m told your program does in fact, have a graduation ceremony.”
She blinked surprised by the idea as if she didn’t already know. “What?”
“Harry told me that of course your college has one and you—”
She only vaguely heard the end of Louis’ sentence. She was feeling...anger? Anger at Harry? It didn’t seem like that was a reasonable conclusion. She had never been mad at him in the eight months she had known him. But her chest started to ache, and her blood felt hot, and she didn’t want to be mad at Harry, but she was sad he betrayed her trust in what she told him at one in the morning. Even if it was a silly little thing like making sure she had people at her graduation ceremony. She shook her head. “I’m not walking,” she interrupted. “I don’t want to.”
“Love, you worked so hard!” Eleanor gasped. “Please! It would mean so much to us to see you do it. We want you to have that.”
While the kindness and the meaningfulness of their words was not lost on her, she was serious in what she told Harry. But maybe she left out the part that she didn’t want to walk across the stage because it would remind her of the last graduation ceremony she attended. The last time she remembered a big happy family memory. “When did Harry tell you?” She asked quietly.
“He didn’t know for sure when it was...He was probing around, I think, because he might be trying to get you something,” Eleanor said so excitedly she was practically clapping. “Oh, I bet it’s going to be amazing whatever he gets you.”
“We weren’t that surprised, but we told him that you weren’t walking because there wasn’t a ceremony...and he told us there most assuredly was—which did surprise us. Most interns went in the past, so what’s the scoop on that, love?” Louis smirked, throwing a piece of popcorn at her. It caught in her hair. “Lying to your best friends?”
She didn’t feel like rehashing all the sad details and explaining why she didn’t want to go. “I just didn’t want it to be a big deal,” she shrugged as casually as she possibly could. She should have just told them, but she didn’t want it to be a thing.
However, Louis sensed there was more to her hiding it, immediately. It was why he was her best friend. But he didn’t press. Maybe he would later when he could get her alone. Every once in a while, he managed to pick up on something in her voice that said something of her past was coming through. “Hmm,” he hummed. “Well, that’s fine. We’d still like to go. A couple pictures and that’s it. Then dinner. Nothing else. I won’t even get you a card to commemorate the day.”
“Oh, I’m getting you a card,” Eleanor nodded fiercely. “Gonna write you the mushiest proud letter there is to write,” she smiled wrinkling her nose at her.
So, how could she say no to them? They loved her so wholly it really was unfair to exclude them after their endless support. Sighing, she shook her head. “It’s Saturday, the 14th,” she rolled her eyes. Both pulled out their phones and tapped rapidly putting it in their calendars.
“Good,” Louis smiled. “Now let’s go get dinner,” he said kissing Eleanor on his way off her lap and helping her up as he nearly ran for the door all in one movement. Eleanor rolled his eyes.
“You picked him,” she reminded El. “In high school too,” she shook her head and wrinkled her nose in distaste.
“I know, aren’t I lucky?” El said with a mocking dreamy tone in her voice but she meant it. It was obvious on her face, and she loved that about Eleanor most of all. Letting Louis be himself, unapologetically. Louis was the very best and she was glad someone else saw it too. Eleanor squeezed her arm and followed him. She took a second to take in the moment. She couldn’t help but smile so completely happy with her life for the first time in a very long while.
*
She woke up at some point in the night by herself on the comfiest mattress she ever owned all thanks to Harry. She peered through two of the slats on the blinds of her window to get a better estimate of the time without having to look at her phone in hopes of falling back asleep in a few moments. It was still pitch-black out, save for the moon illuminating the sky.
After tossing and turning for nearly five minutes without drifting off quickly, she decided she may as well make good use of her time. She grabbed for her phone. As expected, the clock told her that if they were sharing a bed, it was time to have her nightly chat with Harry.
When she came back from dinner and before she fell asleep this evening, she told Harry she was a bit tired. She would call, of course. But she might drift off while talking.
Just wanted to hear your voice, kitten. Didn’t get to see you much today other than tea. Get some sleep, of course. I’ll see you tomorrow. Sleep well, love.
So now she texted him. I’m awake now if you want to hear my voice.
The phone rang almost instantly. “Hi,” she whispered.
“S’like music,” he said sleepily. She giggled. “That’s a symphony,” he murmured.
Her heart was bursting. “Yeah?”
“M-hmm.”
“Did I wake you?”
“Yes,” he said simply. She frowned. But it was like he knew she was frowning, because he continued, putting her mind at ease. “I would probably wake up from a coma t’hear your voice.”
She was so close to saying she loved him out loud. How could she not? But how would she be any different than any intern or companion before her? She was determined to wait until it was over. Until he stopped paying her and then she could at least tell him. So he knew and he could...decide if she was worth it. “Did you have a good day?” She whispered instead.
He yawned and she heard the rustling of his sheets. Sitting up against his fluffy pillows, she assumed. “S’alright,” it sounded as if he were shrugging it off. “I was in a crummy mood all morning.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” she wished she went into his office earlier to see how she could have helped.
“Not something y’could have helped with, beautiful,” he had a smirk in his voice. It left her breathless that he could tell how she was feeling without seeing her. “Before y’worry.”
“Me? Worry?”
He chuckled that beautiful breathy laugh of his. She imagined his dimples, his glittering eyes. “Mmm...”
It was quiet for a moment and since he wanted to hear her talk, she thought she may as well get it out of the way. “So...” she sighed. “Louis and Eleanor found out about my graduation ceremony actually happening somehow...and they’re making me go.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment, which told her he already knew that they had found out because of him. “I think y’should go, love.”
“I know. I’m going to.”
He sighed with relief. “That’s good.”
“If...” she swallowed awkwardly hating how she was even asking in the first place. “If you wanted to come...I think I get a ton of tickets...it is a Saturday so you wouldn’t miss wor—”
“Kitten, of course m’going t’be there,” he promised. “I’d sell m’company t’be there for you.”
She scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’d sell it t’Niall, maybe. But I’d still sell it.”
She giggled. “Do you think Niall would want to come, too?”
“Yes, absolutely. We wouldn’t miss it.”
She clutched the phone tighter to her ear enjoying the sound of Harry at the other end. The irritation she felt was only a nagging little bite on the inside of her head that she pushed away. Because really, this whole month had to be the most, and totally, happiest she had been in years.
*
Saturday/Sunday
“I blame myself for my brother’s death,” she said it softly. She didn’t even ask if he was awake. Either she somehow knew, or she wasn’t looking for him to answer. Harry frowned, trailing his fingers up and down her arm. It was a sudden comment, but it was the middle of the night. It was what they did.
“I don’t think that’s possible, kitten.”
“I went to some stupid school party. I didn’t want to get in the car with the person offering a ride home. So, he came to pick me up, no questions asked. Not a care in the world that it was almost two in the morning,” she shrugged against him. “A car hit us,” she said simply. It was silent for a minute. Harry hardly moved. “He must have seen it coming before I did... because he turned...so his side of the car took the brunt of the hit.” He squeezed her. “I tried to pull him out. Begged him to breathe,” she shook her head. “It was awful,” her voice cracked. Harry couldn’t imagine what she had seen. Couldn’t imagine what it took for her to get in the car. No wonder she walked everywhere.
“Y’don’t have t’tell me, love,” he told her, and he meant it. That was plenty. He could fill in the gaps if it meant she didn’t have to relive it again. He was sure she relived it every day.
“It’s why my parents hate me.”
Harry sucked his lip into his mouth. “They shouldn’t,” he fully believed that. He may not have judged them for the way they grieved but they lost one child in that accident. It easily could have been two and yet somehow, they chose to lose them both even though she was right there, alive and in need of love more than ever.
Harry wouldn’t say it to her now, but he would think part of his heart would feel like it was missing if she had been lost all those years ago. Whether he knew her or not.
“Sometimes I think they’re right to,” she sniffled. “I’d hate me, too. He was the best,” she whispered shakily.
“Kitten.”
He loved the dark and their little chats every day since they started. Today, he hated it. It was too revealing. This was hurting her. And he hated that most. “I should have died.”
“Thank God, you didn’t.”
“It’s not fair,” she whispered. How many times had she said it to herself, her therapist, to Louis of all people? The only person who consoled her and not her parents...the only person who needed to be consoled as much as her was Louis. As he was breaking down, he was trying to keep her together. It wasn’t fair at all.
“No,” Harry shook his head. “It’s not.”
“I miss him.”
“I know.”
More silence. “I told you the dark is revealing.”
He smirked sadly. He wished he could tell her something just as revealing. But telling her he loved her so wholly when they weren’t in a relationship, not an actual one, after she was grieving for a moment in time, didn’t seem right. Harry wanted to tell her it was easy. Easy to love her. It was effortless having her in his life. He wanted to reveal something of equal weight. If only so she wouldn’t be sad. “I like getting t’know you,” he said instead.
“Even though I’m the reason someone died?”
He shook his head and gave her a reassuring squeeze. “Someone else made a dumb decision, love. Of course, your brother would come t’help you. I’d do the same for Gem,” he promised. “S’in the brother handbook.”
“Louis said the same thing...he has a bunch of younger sisters...and me.”
“Louis would still do it for you, too; I’m sure.” They were silent again. He thought she fell asleep. Sometimes she would do that. So, he asked the question that had been burning in his mind forever. “I don’t want t’pry...What happened with your parents...after that?”
She shook her head. “Maybe another middle of the night talk. Not this one,” she mumbled.
He nodded. “Yeah, of course, love.”
“Thank you for...everything Harry. Really,” she yawned and nuzzled closer to his chest.
“Course, love,” he repeated and let her fall asleep beside him peacefully.
*
Wednesday
There was yelling from the other side of the door as she knocked, then immediately entered his office with tea. Right as she opened the door, he slammed the phone down to his desk. Then picked it back up and slammed it three more times into the receiver. She blinked and cringed with each hit. He slid a hand over his face and turned to face the window. Part of her thought he didn’t register she was in the room.
“Harry,” she said softly.
He shook his head. “Love, please jus’ leave the tea and go,” he grumbled. “M’gonna snap and I don’t want it t’be at you,” he sounded infuriated. Interns never seemed to work out because of his anger... She knew Niall worked hard to keep her away from Harry’s outbursts. Mostly because Niall knew Harry would never forgive himself if he ever broke her heart or scared her because of his job. But she still knew the stories. The whispers in the breakroom and by the copier about his anger weren’t something she could ignore. Sometimes Harry’s angry tone filled the whole floor. She bit her lip at his warning and nodded silently.
After she set the tea on his desk, she sat on the couch across the room. She sipped at her drink watching him tap on his phone screen searching for something. He turned back around after a moment looking at his computer and then she saw his eyes flicker over to her. “I know I told you t’leave,” his voice was icy. But she saw his gaze soften just a hair.
She didn’t say anything because she didn’t want to set him off or make him any angrier than he already was. She was content to sit there...just wanted to wait there in case he needed her because that’s what she did. Even if he was going to pretend that she wasn’t there.
His phone was ringing from the other end while he called someone. “I need the file we looked at this morning...” A pause and she watched him clench his fist and he squeezed his eyes shut angrily. “Well, I don’t have it!” he snapped slamming his fist on the desk. “If I had it, I wouldn’t have called! Can’t you just do what I fucking ask and bring—"
She hurried to his computer after he slammed his fist down. Not caring even a little, when he hardly moved out of her way and continued yelling at the poor person at the other end of the line. The words he snarled into the phone didn’t reach her ears. With three clicks and a few taps it was on his screen. She stepped out of his way and sat back on the couch waiting for the next mini blowup. He put his phone down again as his eyes scanned the screen. He grumbled about something unintelligible under his breath and he tapped on his phone screen again and brought it to his ear for all of five seconds.
“Come here,” he said into his phone.
Within moments, Niall was there. He frowned seeing Harry’s anger but managed a quick wink at the sweet girl sitting quietly on the couch. She sipped her coffee while Niall went behind Harry’s desk. He looked at the screen for a few moments and she saw his face falter a bit; he rubbed his hand on the back of his head. “Well, we knew this was coming.”
Harry turned away and paced to the other end of the room. Hands on the back of his head. Niall scrolled on his screen and sighed. He glanced at her. She hadn’t taken her eyes off the pair of them since Niall stood next to Harry. “C’mere,” he said to her. She hurried back over. He pointed to several itemized lines and murmured a few things that she only had a vague understanding of due to her limited understanding of things that happened here at Styles Incorporated solely because in the grand scheme of things, she hadn’t been there that long, and she was just an intern.
She looked at the numbers, pursed her lips in concentration and did her best to calculate quickly. “Can you shrink this number?” She asked, pointing at the screen.
He glanced at Harry who looked ready to jump out the window. His head pressed to the glass taking deep, angry breaths. “No, darling.”
“How about this one?” She pointed to a different cell. He shook his head again. She looked over at Harry who was clearly distraught. Sighing, she thought for a few quiet breaths and Niall frowned as he scrolled. She thought back to all her classes, every lecture, and every assignment she had ever worked on. Unfortunately, she came to only one conclusion.
“You can have them file for bankruptcy,” she shrugged.
Niall pushed her behind him as soon as the beginning of that b-word left her mouth. Harry hated that word. At the same time, Harry spun rapidly, took three long strides, and menacingly glared through Niall in her direction. “Are you fucking serious?” He hissed but he was staring so angrily at Niall, but the expression was really meant for her. She gulped audibly. This had to have been the nightmarish things that previous interns spoke about. It made her stomach churn and she thought she might throw up. God bless Niall for standing in her way—she knew Harry wouldn’t resort to physical violence. Not even a little. She felt it in her soul. But part of her wondered if it would hurt less than his cutting, angry voice.
No wonder Niall never let her be around Harry when he was mad. This was terrifying.
“Harry—” Niall started.
She blinked in surprise at how angry he got. At her. But he did warn her. Her heart felt like it was going to beat right out of her chest. “I am not having them file,” he growled.
Her face definitely turned red, and she swallowed nervously. “It’s your only option,” she whispered standing her ground anyway. He flung the cordless keyboard across the room. It smashed into the wall and many of the keys fluttered off in a heap against the wall. She flinched at the sound as he paced back to that side of the room.
“Darling, kindly shut it,” Niall whispered over his shoulder.
Harry paced and paced. Niall was still standing in front of her protectively as Harry grumbled to himself trying to make sense of it. “Why?” He practically barked at her. “Why’s it my only option?”
She took a deep breath. “The legal fees would equate to more than the bankruptcy payback.” He stopped pacing and turned to look at her. Niall even turned around and stared at her in surprise. “What?” She felt like this was a worse thing to say than bankruptcy. Niall stepped from in front of her and used the mouse to click through different screens on the computer, it took a moment because he no longer had a keyboard. He glanced at Harry and nodded.
Harry took a deep breath. “Can y’please explain that for me, love?” His voice was still tight with anger but at least he wasn’t barking at her or throwing things.
So, she did her best to explain that she remembered this once case she studied in her quantitative decision-making class. How it was expensive but kept the company afloat to file for a chapter of bankruptcy that allowed them to pay back the debt and keep going on if they could make it a few years. “She’s right...” Niall said clicking on the computer and gesturing to the screen. “Obviously,” he muttered under her breath.
Harry looked at the screen. While they did, she did some calculations on her phone. “So, they keep their assets?” He asked, looking up at her from the screen while Niall searched something on his phone to show Harry.
She nodded. “As long as they make this much,” she said and held her phone up to the two men.
Niall smirked. “I like her,” he said knowingly.
Harry sighed, still embittered. “Can you go buy me a new keyboard, love?” He asked.
Feeling like she had finally made a difference and helped a bit, she grabbed her coffee and nodded. “Sure,” she said softly.
“Don’t spend your own money on it either,” Harry said knowingly without looking up at her. She smirked to herself and left his office before she could say any more wrong things.
*
Since it was a Wednesday, she hadn’t seen Harry outside the office for two days. After getting the new keyboard and plugging it in, Harry was swamped for the remainder of the day. Lawyers, Niall, and others kept filing in and out of his office. At five in the evening, when most everyone was leaving, they were still coming and going. Niall hadn’t seen her in hours while she sat at her desk sending him files, answering calls, and taking messages. She knocked on the door before entering, carrying five or so pizzas and an assortment of drinks. Niall was the only one who noticed.
He winked at her, mouthed thank you, and watched as she left.
It was another hour before Harry noticed he was eating pizza...with pineapple on the slice. “Who got this?” He muttered.
“That cute intern of Niall’s,” one of the lawyers said.
“That’s your intern Niall? I’d be begging for her to alleviate the stress—”
“I wouldn’t finish that sentence if I were you,” Niall said calmly. Harry was glad he had a bite of pizza in his mouth and Niall interrupted that sentence before it finished. After the day Harry had he wasn’t sure he had much self-control left to not physically attack someone—especially on behalf of her.
How did he not notice the sweet girl bringing pizza? He was certain even if the room was on fire, he would still take the time to notice her. He frowned. He had no idea she did this.
“I think this is enough for tonight, Mr. Styles,” someone said after hours of being there. Harry hadn’t looked at the time in ages. Since before lunch at least. He was only vaguely aware that it was after one at some point only because she brought his daily tea. He nodded silently, still upset about the day but also that he had no idea the perfect girl was there.
“You screamed at her, y’know,” Niall said condensing the pizza boxes. Placing the empty ones by the trashcan for the maintainers to take care of. After everyone left. Harry was helping clean up as well and packing his things.
Harry tended to get a little fuzzy on his consciousness when he was mad. “I told her to leave.”
“You’re stupid for thinking she would,” he rolled his eyes. “She’s quite brilliant,” Niall said knowingly. “When are you going to offer her a job?”
“It’s complicated,” he remarked. “I think if I create a job for her, people...will get suspicious.”
“Who cares?”
Harry worked extremely hard to get Styles Incorporated where it was so quickly. You didn’t become a thirty under thirty member without working hard. In all that time, Harry made every decision he could to the best of his ability. He always wondered if he made mistakes. He loved this company. It was his pride and joy.
The idea of losing pieces of it broke his heart. Since it happened twice within the last three months, and she managed to save both those pieces from falling to the wayside...
She seemed to know how much he loved his job, his legacy. He didn’t like her idea all that much today, even if it was good or his only option. Even when he yelled at her and snarled like she wasn’t the most special person he knew. She still voiced her opinion, and he knew that had to have been hard for her.
It hurt him to think of failing in even one little branch. But he couldn’t argue with her that it was the best option he had for this moment. “This was a brilliant idea,” one of the lawyers said as they typed furiously on their laptop. It was hours after the lovely girl left the new keyboard on his desk. Harry didn’t respond with anything but one little nod. “We should keep this in mind...would have saved you some money a few years ago,” she remarked with a gentle smile.
Niall saying “who cares” suddenly sparked something in him. Why did he care? She was brilliant. He didn’t have to convince anyone of that. It was obvious when she walked into any room, took a passing glance at whatever document they were discussing, any graph they were looking at and she casually pointed out inconsistencies and almost always managed to save him money.
“Have the other interns been like her?” He asked quietly. He had been so closed off, so worried about the reasons they were truly there... The thought of that horrible woman who made comments to the sweet girl about sleeping with him... Harry would feel terrible if he was so cynical about the entire intern process if a quarter of them were as smart as her.
Niall smiled at his best friend. The relief flooded him before Niall even spoke. “Harry, I don’t think there’s anyone like her.”
*
The knock on her door surprised her. She thought it might be Louis or Eleanor who couldn’t be bothered to walk the last five blocks back to their place after a late-night dinner. It was nearing ten and she was snuggled up on the couch with her book and music playing on the TV.
Harry was leaning against the opposite wall as she opened the door. “Oh, hi,” she said softly.
Harry stayed where he was, and he smiled at her, tiredly. “You’re so cute,” he mumbled.
She glanced down at her pajamas. A mismatching pair of shorts and a tank top. One sock on because only the left one was cold. Harry looked tired but beautiful as ever. His button-down sleeves rolled up to his elbows, tucked into his dress pants. The tie he had been wearing all day was gone, the button at his neck undone. His hair looked as if he ran his hand through it a few too many times but his tiredness seemed most evident on his face.
“Come in,” she said opening the door wider. “Do you need something to eat or drink?” She asked.
“No... had the pizza y’got us,” he murmured finding his way to the couch, he folded the corner of the page where she was reading and set the book on the coffee table. He waited for her to sit beside him and once she did, his head was in her lap. “M’sorry I screamed at you. Y’didn’t deserve that.”
“I knew you didn’t mean it,” she threaded her fingers through his hair and lightly rubbed at his scalp. “Is it all taken care of?”
“Thanks t’you,” he mumbled. She smiled softly, grateful she could ease his anger and allow him to sleep. She didn’t say anything for a bit and soon enough he was asleep in her lap. She reached for her book and read for the better part of an hour while he snored gently into her leg.
When an hour had passed, she gently pulled herself out from his head and began undressing him down to his boxers. It took effort but once he was mostly naked, she tugged him off the couch holding him up as much as she could with his tall frame to drop him into her bed. She curled up to him, grateful for the extra night with him. The first one at her place, at that.
The moon was bright even through the closed blinds, making his skin practically glow as she faced his sleeping figure. His arm beneath her pillow outstretched so she fit neatly beneath his chin if she was close enough. Their legs twisted together, his much longer than hers.
She was quiet for a bit, tracing the sparrows tattooed just below his collarbones. “They stopped talking to me,” she whispered. It wasn’t quite the standard middle of the night, but it was pressing on her mind because it was rapidly approaching the seven-year anniversary of that horrible day and it hurt so freshly, so sharply. Like it was only a week ago. She wasn’t sure Harry was even awake, but she said it anyway...maybe it was better he didn’t hear anyway. “Except for when they had too much to drink. Then they just yelled and yelled. At each other, at me...” she swallowed the pain down. “If I didn’t go out, he wouldn’t have gone to get me. We would still be a family...he was their prince,” she explained.
Her fingers drifted over his arm that rested gently with his hand at her hip. She traced the heart tattoo, the rose, and then the anchor at his wrist. “They stopped caring about me, but I couldn’t stop caring about them. I made dinner for them even if they didn’t always eat. If they did, they complained about it. I stopped eating with them. We didn’t watch movies together on Sunday evenings. We didn’t celebrate Christmas. Part of me thinks they only kept me there because they knew deep down, I was still a minor and they had to—I could ruin their lives worse by reporting them...” she bit her lip. “I don’t even think I would do that... At some point... they were the only people that ever took care of me... but then they just stopped and honestly, I don’t blame them.”
Harry didn’t make any note that he could hear but she kept going anyway. “So, I started taking care of everyone I crossed paths with...” she paused for a moment just to see if anything registered on Harry’s mind. It didn’t seem like it. But it made it easier for her to tell the story.
“When I turned 18, I invited Louis over to help me. I didn’t say with what. But the second he saw my parents...the ones that didn’t love me anymore... Louis moved me into his place... I felt so horrible, but I actually asked him to stay there just until... until I left for university at the end of the summer. He looked... betrayed. Like I let him down... He gave me the lecture of the century and Eleanor just braided my hair while he did. They made my favorite food. Neither of them said Happy Birthday once and I didn’t even care because for even just one day someone was taking care of me again,” she had done well up to this point not crying.
She sniffled and shook her head. She reached up and outlined Harry’s eyebrows, the shape of his nose. The curve of his lips and the jawline that ached her to the core. “Louis doesn’t talk about it, but I know he saw more than I ever wanted him to. I know he resents the way I hid. I think part of him wished I still lived with him. He insisted I stay the summers I came home from university,” she told the sleeping figure.
“But I got a boyfriend part way through university. We moved in quickly. Of course, I took care of him... and I didn’t mind. I liked it. He liked it. He was easy... food, sex, cleaning...” she mumbled. “But I still went to visit my parents because I couldn’t help it. I’ve never told Louis that. I didn’t tell my therapist that either...I’m sure she would be mad. And you know, I still go twice a month without telling anyone. Well, except you now... I don’t know why... I don’t know... I couldn’t leave them...they...they have to be in there still, right? The people that threw me princess birthday parties and put Band-Aids on my knees after a fall on my bike? Even after...after all of it...they’re my parents somewhere in there. Every time I go it’s just...yelling and hating me. I clean, make sure there’s food in the fridge, and then I leave,” Harry didn’t answer her. “I was supposed to stay the night at a hotel because I was supposed to move some of the last of my things...but it was a bad day. I just wanted to go home... I guess I got the sex part right with him,” she said with a smirk but without humor in her voice. “Just...not with me. Guess I didn’t do a good job there either,” she sighed sadly. “So... There it is. They just...acted as if I died too.”
Harry didn’t move a muscle. She smiled softly and kissed his cheek. “I think that’s everything,” she whispered. “I think you know everything now,” she told him. “Good night, baby,” she whispered tucking herself against his chest.
There was no movement for at least a full minute and then his arms came around her so tightly, he squeezed her like he was trying to press all the broken pieces back together. “You’re so lovely,” he murmured. “Don’t forget that,” he pressed his lips to her temple and she closed her eyes tight trying to keep the tears from spilling over like a waterfall. “S’great t’know you,” he squeezed her again. “S’an honor t’know y’care ‘bout me,” he mumbled to her.
She nodded her head in recognition that she had heard him but if she spoke, she would either cry or, worse, tell him she loved him. So, she sighed deeply against his chest and slowly fell asleep while he pressed another kiss to her forehead. Like he was trying to heal her from the outside in just by kissing the front of her tired, sad brain.
Part of her thought that with Harry it might work.
*
Next Wednesday
Harry was going to lose his mind. When he started the day, he was so excited that he finally had good news for the sweet girl and was excited about their future. He couldn’t wait to surprise her during their movie night the following day, at home snuggled on the comfy couch.
Instead, he was totally blindsided by the fourth of the same type of phone call of that same day.
The call started out the same as all the other ones he’d been getting. They introduced themselves. “Aye, Harry. Zayn. How are you?”
Harry blinked in surprise at the voice at the other end. Zayn was CEO of his own company, located a few towns over called Malik Industries. Rarely did they interact with one another because their clientele was very different. But every so often at big black-tie shin digs and philanthropic events they’d run into one another. In this business, it was all about networking. He was hoping he wouldn’t get this call only because Zayn was closest to his age... which was closer to her age... “Right, good. Yourself?”
“Great. Listen, I’ll make this quick, I know you’re a busy guy. I have an application in front of me and it lists you and Niall as references, and I’m used to seeing Niall’s name... but I had to ask you. You never give your name as a reference.” His heart stopped because he could only guess who the application belonged to.
She applied here too?
“Harry?” He asked. “Did I lose you?”
“Uh...” he shook his head trying to regain his composure. He was absolutely confused. She didn’t say anything about applying to any of these places and this was the fourth phone call he had to sit through with an aching heart. “No, sorry. Untimely email,” he muttered quickly. He wasn’t even facing his computer.
“Right, I understand. I’ll keep it short... you think she would be good here?”
His breath caught in his throat. She would be good anywhere. But the idea of not seeing her smiling face each afternoon carrying tea in her hands to his office (not that she would continue to have to do that if she worked here full time) was the last thing Harry wanted. “Uh...yeah, she...she would be great.”
There was a pause and a short chuckle. “I know you don’t usually do these reference calls, but there’s usually a bit more than that.”
Harry swallowed the lump in his throat trying to get the words to spill out. How could he tell her she was perfect? How could he just give her away? He wanted her there all the time in every facet of his life. She made everything better. “I know, I know,” Harry shook his head again in an attempt to get his verbal processing to work again. “She’s perfect. She can do anything. Fit in anywhere. If she doesn’t know how t’do something, she’ll figure it out. Brilliant. Truly. It’s cutthroat out there and she still manages t’be an angel. Doesn’t even bat an eye in the face of adversity. She’ll keep morale up by decorating for holidays and she makes the best chocolate chip cookies I’ve ever had.”
“See that’s what—”
“You can’t have her,” Harry interrupted flatly.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I thought she applied because there—”
“Yes. No. I’m sorry,” he shook his head. “She did apply. She would be perfect. You can’t question that. Seriously. Y’would probably hand her the keys t’your office if she joined y’in any capacity. I want t’do that somedays...but I want t’keep her here.”
“I see,” Zayn sounded agreeable. “She sounds quite special. Her recommendations, her transcript, everything is incredible. She seems like a wonderful asset Harry. Are you sure you have room for her?”
He prickled at the notion that he wouldn’t make room for her. “Yes,” he said definitively.
“Alright. Well, good for you. I hope she’s happy there. I’ll take her application any time in the future if you see a reason she needs to go elsewhere.”
Harry didn’t see it happening ever. “Sorry t’disappoint.”
“Not a problem at all. You know a good one when you see them, I get it. Have a good one,” the call ended abruptly. As if on cue, she knocked and opened his door at quarter past the hour. Clockwork. She closed the door quickly.
“Hi baby,” she winked as she whispered the pet name at him. “Brought your tea. And I got us some cake pops. I think they’re yummy. Maybe we could try to make them from scratch this weekend.”
There is no way she could just go. His heart fluttered at her words, and he smiled. He felt the ache in his chest melting away as it always did when she was around while he was upset. “Whatever you want, kitten.”
Harry didn’t tell her about the good news during movie night. He was too upset about all the phone calls.
He didn’t tell her while they were making cake Pops on that Saturday either.
*
When she chose to just exist that weekend a couple months ago, and not remember anything that happened over her horrible couple of days and not think about her parents, she did catch up with Louis and Eleanor that following Tuesday. Harry watched from her kitchen as the pair of them cooed over her and she let some tears fall.
“Your mum’s not having a memorial,” Eleanor told her. So that was that. It was over.
“Oh,” she said like it was a surprise.
Louis glanced at Eleanor and pursed his lips. She combed her hair back and gave her another hug while Louis pressed his hand to her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. Louis glanced at Harry and shrugged. Harry thought that meant her mum wasn’t having a memorial that she could attend. It hardened Harry’s heart while he set some mugs of tea on her counter out for the three of them.
The lawyers managed to get some information about her inheritance. The house was already in a trust under her name. “Harry, we’re grasping a bit at straws here. We don’t practice family law,” he reminded him during their next movie night.
“I know, I know. M’sorry,” he said rubbing the back of his neck while he watched from the kitchen as the girl swayed quietly on the porch swing. At the end of February, she was still insistent on sitting in the freezing cold. “I jus’ want t’make sure she’s taken care of.”
“Unfortunately, I don’t think this woman cares,” he said bluntly.
Harry frowned and ended the phone call before heading to the swing with mugs of hot chocolate. She lifted the blanket, a beanie hat almost falling into her eyes as he slid in beside her. She rested her head on his shoulder and for the moment Harry just let her live knowing that as long as she stayed here, she was cared for.
Which is why he was so happy when the lawyers finally informed him that she would have the house... eventually. The life insurance policy was never changed out of her name, and it wasn’t like they could change it now. All of it was something that could ease the ache of the worry she had.
Harry attended the memorial service, too, a week or so after that. He told her and Niall he was attending to business out of town. Niall looked at him suspiciously and he felt bad lying to the sweet girl but he...he wanted to...well he didn’t even know what he wanted. He just wanted to know what her parents were like. There were many people there. He was surprised that they still had friends after cutting off their sweet daughter. But Harry was trying his best not to judge their mourning.
He saw Louis and Eleanor there gently consoling her mother without it truly reaching their eyes. Louis saw Harry at the edge of the mourners at the cemetery, he gave him a succinct nod and then tilted his head discreetly to the right.
When everyone left, he headed to where Louis gestured, totally alone.
He read the dates on the stone, did the math, and he sighed. “I’ll do anything for her,” he knelt and pulled some weeds away from the flowers laid there. Quietly to her brother’s grave, he whispered “I promise.”
*
Monday
Now seemed like it was too late to tell her anything about the good news. She had seemed off all evening. Maybe it was the stress of graduation and her internship. The office had been so busy lately they hardly had a moment to have tea in the afternoon.
It was his own fault, however. When all said and done.
Now, he was walking her home from dinner. Well, actually, he was nearly running after her. She refused to get in the car. Despite how late it was. So, Harry followed her on foot. She was fast, even in the little heels she wore. The driver was close behind on their trail as well.
“I didn’t ask for you to do that!” She snapped at him. She never snapped at him. Not once. And there were plenty of times she could have over the last eight and a half months. But he thought he was being helpful. Figuring out the stuff with her mum, finding a way to finally split Niall’s position. All of it.
He thought things were going so well and even with the end of her internship coming up at the end of the next month, he was so hopeful for their future in so many ways. He didn’t really know what went wrong. He kept the conversation light trying to figure out her slightly soured mood. It didn’t seem completely fair, but he was heartbroken that he made her upset.
But it was the email that was the final straw. She received it in the middle of dinner. Mr. Malik stated there must have been miscommunication as she would be staying with Styles Incorporated. He would love to have her, feel free to apply in the future if so needed, but of course, she should stay where she’s comfortable.
Harry was in mid-conversation with the waiter, ordering dessert. Something she was reallylooking forward to when she read through the email. But the second she finished it she was angry and didn’t want dessert. She called Niall quickly, while Harry was still chatting, holding one finger up as she put her phone to her ear.
He winked at her, continuing his conversation and didn’t mind at all whether she was using her phone nor questioning it. He’d done so many times before and she was always so kind and patient about it. If he did question it, so shortly after the email, maybe he would have seen it coming. But he didn’t...he didn’t see it coming at all. “Did you...talk to Mr. Malik?” She asked him when Niall answered.
“No, darling, I haven’t heard from him or...or anyone yet about your applic—”
“Never mind,” she hung up. The second she uttered the name of another company Harry’s voice died in the conversation he was having, and he directed his attention to her.
“Did you?” She asked, point blank.
“Yes,” he said. “I told him you would be a perfect fit.”
She blinked. “Then why does he think I’m staying at Styles Incorporated?”
Harry frowned. “Don’t you want to?”
She wasn’t going to lie. “I mean...yes...but don’t you think you should have told me you were going to hire me before—”
“I just figured—"
“Harry...I’ve been rejected or ghosted from everywhere I applied to. I’ve been crying to Niall so stressed and anxious that I’m not good enough and—have you been telling everyone in the area?”
“You’ve been crying about—?”
“Harry,” she snapped.
He was surprised by her tone. “Of course...I want t’keep you,” he whispered.
“Well, what if I can’t,” her voice cracked, her hand fiddling with her silverware on the plate.
“What are y’talking about? Of course, y’can,” he said quickly reaching across the table for her hand but she pulled it back. “Kitten.”
“I don’t want dessert,” she said and stood up and marched out of the restaurant. He hurried to throw money on the table and follow after her.
When they made it to her apartment building, she was huffing. She was angry the entire way there not listening to Harry call after her, not stopping even though he begged. Harry felt like he was losing her with every step. When they reached her door, he tried again to console her as best he could. “Love, I just wanted to hel—”
“I know you feel entitled to everything I am and do because of what we are, but I didn’t ask you to do any of that! Stay out of my business.”
“Kitten,” Harry felt crushed, like she stole all the air out of her lungs.
“I know you told Louis and Eleanor about my graduation ceremony, and I let it slide... because part of me is hoping they forget that it’s in two weeks because right now, I don’t want to go. It hurts to think about my brother’s ceremony—the last time we were a family. And I know you had your lawyers talking to my mom because she called me today all up and arms about how I’m selfish to even take what she’s giving me and of course I hadn’t a clue what she was talking about. I thought it was a prank,” Harry was silent as he listened. “I know you have your driver follow me around whenever I’m out walking. Not even at night,” still quiet. But he dropped his gaze to the floor for a moment before looking back up at her. It did sound controlling when she was so angry. “On top of all that, I hadn’t gotten any notice about my student loans so I called my servicer to inquire. And guess what?”
Harry’s lips pressed together. He didn’t say a word. Because of course he already knew why she didn’t get any info about her loans. “Now this? Harry, I’ve worked my butt off to do this on my own and you just...told every company within a twenty-mile radius that I’m staying, and I didn’t even get to know that I could do it on my own? That all my hard work and all those hard things I had to face on my own just meant nothing? I thought I failed so miserably.” She was crying so hard, and she wished she wasn’t but every time she felt anger coursing through her it was an unfortunate consequence. Harry just wanted to console her and make it stop. He felt so terrible.
Every day she showed up to work and made everyone’s life so much easier. She baked brownies for the breakroom, made copies for anyone that asked because she was the only one who could stop it from jamming, and of course she went out every day, snow, sleet, hail, or rain to get himself and Niall their Starbucks order. She took care of him when he was sick and saved such a large chunk of his company, he could never repay her. All he wanted to do was help her the way she helped everyone else.
“Love,” he whispered reaching for her. She stepped out of his way.
“Just go,” she snapped as she slammed the door shut in his face. His heart felt broken, but he couldn’t think of anything to say. Because as always, she was right. He just...did everything for her because he could. Really because he wanted to, but he should have at least asked.
He could hear the sniffles and her tears through the door. He waited a minute listening to her gasping breath hoping something in his head would click. Something would appear in his mind that he could say to her. But in times like this, it was usually her that knew what to do. So of course, he couldn’t ask her. As he turned to leave, he heard her croaked voice whispering Louis’ name into the phone.
I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
This part is 7.5K words of almost entirely fluff. It's kind of a mess but I think it's a good mess. I thought of a few more things that I could do in the future so might squeeze an extra part or two out of it. Might involve some angst though :) :) :) Hope you enjoy!
Carefully, he leaned over the side of the basin, and tangled his fingers through her hair and started massaging the pads of his fingertips against her scalp. She sighed. “You gotta be careful or I’ll never leave this tub.”
If it meant he could always wake up and find her here, he’d massage her hair forever and draw a bath for her every day of their lives.
The phone only rang once before it was answered. She felt bad that he was probably hovering by the phone for the last two hours waiting for someone to call him back. “Is she okay?!”
She thought about the last time she saw her phone. It was either in the driver’s car or back in Niall’s office. But now that Harry had forgiven her, a little sliver of pain relieved after the horrible day, all the tears, sobs, plus lack of sleep caught up to her very tired mind. Her head was aching. She wanted to just lay in absolute silence and wish for sleep to come so she could just shut down for a while. But she had to make this phone call first.
Harry was in the kitchen, once more taking care of her. Gathering water and medicine for her tired body. “I’m fine,” she answered the panicked voice at the other end as gently as possible. Her heart rate was settling, and she thought she might fall asleep right there on the comfiest couch she had ever had the pleasure of sitting on. But she needed to make sure Louis knew she was alright. Since her phone was MIA, she used Harry’s.
First came the loudest relieved sigh she had ever heard. “Fucking hell, babe, what the fuck,” Louis sounded distraught. She remembered the last time Louis ever sounded so upset. Back when she was eighteen and asked if he could help her move out after he had gone away to university. After one of the hardest tragedies of their young lives she wanted Louis and Eleanor to just live two years post-grad in ignorant bliss of anything that was happening to her. They checked in so regularly, but she kept her life at home so hidden.
When Louis found out, saw, and heard…
It was the only other time because she vowed to herself that she would never be the reason for the anxiety laced in his otherwise happy-go-lucky attitude. But here they were anyway; both of them upset beyond words. “You scared me half to death!” He did sound scared. He sounded close to tears. Just like he never sounded distraught, it was even more rare of an occasion that Louis shed tears.
“I’m sor—”
“No, absolutely not,” he interrupted. “Don’t you dare apologize,” she could hear him shaking his head even though she couldn’t see him. “I’m not mad. I’ve just been worried sick. I thought you were at Harry’s this whole time...what took you so long to answer—”
“It’s a long story,” she mumbled. “I don’t want to ruin your weekend more than I already have.”
“You didn’t ruin it,” Eleanor’s voice appeared at the other end of the line. It must have been on speakerphone. “We were worried,” she said gently. “Tell us what happened, love,” She prompted.
So, she rehashed the story. The third time in half a dozen hours. Harry handed her water and medicine part way through. Sitting beside her, he watched as she spoke each individual word. Her voice was devoid of emotion through most of it. Louis and Eleanor must have asked questions, but she answered them all. Spared no details. But he caught the flicker of blush on her cheeks as she explained that awful story about the horrible woman that spouted lies about knowing Harry’s likes and dislikes.
“I’m at Harry’s now,” she shrugged. Harry worried about her well-being. That was a lot to happen in one day. A lot of emotions wreaking havoc on her body. Maybe it was shock again because she seemed so at ease chatting with her friends on the phone. Like they were catching up after a holiday. “I’m very tired,” she admitted. There was a pause before she smiled weakly then nodded. Harry couldn’t hear but he thought they were telling her to sleep. “I love you both so much,” she whispered. “Can I pay for you to get an extra day to make up for—” She pulled the phone from her ear quickly before her thought was finished. Harry couldn’t make out the words, but he definitely heard yelling from the couple. She giggled tiredly, her eyes drooping by the second.
“Oh, I’ll take that now,” Harry murmured putting the phone to his ear now that she was trying to take care of her friends all while draining the last bit of her energy of the day. Within seconds, as if she wasn’t in control of her own body, she leaned toward Harry, placing her head on his thigh and sighed contentedly and let her eyelids finally close. “Hello?” He said to the phone gently.
There was a moment of hesitation. A deep shaky breath. “Harry, if you break that poor girl’s heart, so help me God, I will murder you without a second thought,” Louis promised.
“Lou,” Eleanor said tentatively. El knew the poor girl would be embarrassed by Louis if she was awake to hear it.
Harry smirked and placed his hand on her head gently combing her hair around her ear and watched the evenness of her breath move her body while she laid quietly on his lap. Harry was so relieved she was okay. He was even happier she was right there for him to watch her and make sure she was okay. “Louis, I’d hand you the knife,” he promised.
*
He let her lay there for a long while—almost an hour. He scrolled through his phone shortly after she fell asleep, after he assured Louis and Eleanor that he would take care of her. He even suggested they do take the extra day for their anniversary weekend. “I think it would make her feel better if y’did,” he explained. “I know m’still new in her life, but I think we all know she’d feel unnecessarily guilty for worrying y’on your holiday,” Harry reminded them. After a hearty agreement, Harry also knew they were two of the people who loved her most in the world, they’d do anything to make her feel better too.
After that, he made his call to Niall.
“Is she alright?” He asked without any greeting. It wasn’t uncommon for there to be no greeting when they chatted anyway. Harry felt no jealousy at all. Especially after his conversation with Gemma. He felt good old-fashioned love for Niall who clearly cared deeply about the sweet girl laying across his couch and lap. “I tried calling her, but her phone was in the office. I have it with me because I thought if she was going—”
“Oh good, she was worried ‘bout that,” Harry mumbled. He didn’t want to move an inch because he just wanted this poor girl to rest.
“I’ll bring it by...is she okay?” He asked again.
“‘Bout as good as y’can expect.”
“She’s there?” Niall wondered.
“Where else would I let her go?” Harry smirked sadly. Niall informed him he really wasn’t sure. It was time for the story he heard twice now from Niall’s point of view. He only told Harry about her leaving and coming back in the simplest of details. How she asked him not to tell Harry about the harassment and so forth. Pair that with knowing her phone didn’t make it with her to the car, he wasn’t certain she was going to make it to Harry’s.
It was pitch-black dark outside. Since she fell asleep so suddenly, he didn’t have time to turn the lights on or anything. Only the kitchen light half illuminated the living area. He tilted his head against the back of the sofa, taking the new version of her story once more from Niall’s perspective. “Niall, m’sorry for being such a prick,” he said.
“It’s already forgotten,” Niall said kindly. “We all do crazy things for the people we love. Just make sure she knows she didn’t ruin our friendship,” Niall had a smirk in his voice and Harry felt a flutter in his heart at that not-so-little L-word. “Also, I would like to be part of the exit interview when you fire that horrific woman, if you want to truly make amends.”
Harry chuckled quietly. “That can be arranged,” he murmured. “Can y’pick up some food for us on the way? I imagine she hasn’t eaten today. I’ll wake her up and make sure she eats before bed.”
“Yeah, yeah. Course. Just let me know.”
It was another half hour before Niall said he had food in his car and would be ten minutes. In that time, he texted his lawyer asking what he could do about her situation to make it painless as possible. Then he sent another text to the driver requesting to follow her.
Once he received Niall’s message that he was enroute with food, he started to wake her up. “Hey there,” he hummed gently rubbing the length of her arm. “Kitten, wake up, please,” he whispered and gave her the gentlest little shake he could muster. “Niall’s bringing us some food, love,” he told her. At the same moment her stomach growled very loudly. He smirked feeling grateful he was waking her up to eat.
“I guess m’hungry,” she mumbled and slowly sat up. “Oof. My head,” she winced pressing one hand to each of her temples. A wave of dizziness and pain rolled over her exhausted mind like she was hungover.
Harry immediately brought his hands over top of hers and he pressed a kiss to her forehead. It made her fuzzy mind warm over with adoration for Harry. While he pressed a simple kiss to her head, all he could think was he was going to have a hard time letting her go to the bathroom of all things. All he wanted was to keep touching her and consoling her. “M’so sorry, baby,” he whispered.
“Harry?” She asked tentatively.
He frowned. He sensed he wasn’t going to like her follow up question. “Yes, kitten?”
“If you’re not too busy, could I stay the weekend? I really don’t want to be alone,” she said rubbing one eye.
He didn’t like that she felt like she had to ask. Part of him thought it was understood she would be there all weekend. But he was glad she wanted to ask and did ask. If all this had happened a few weeks prior she might not have been asking. “Mi casa es su casa,” he answered simply. She smirked. “Of course, love.”
“I just need a moment,” she said standing and made her way for the bathroom. Harry nodded watching her like she might fall to pieces just by standing. His leg was numb from sitting in the same position for almost an hour along with her head resting on his thigh. There wasn’t an ounce of complaining about it in his body, but he got up and stretched it a bit—he called his lawyer back while he wiggled his leg and paced the floor a bit. He turned on some more lights so everyone could see. Especially the outside one for Niall’s arrival. He did show up shortly after that. “I’ll call you back,” he said to his phone as he held the door open for Niall to bring the food inside.
He smiled at her as she reentered the kitchen while he and Harry got the takeout boxes settled. “Hey darling, you look like you’re feeling much better,” he chuckled and gave her a side hug with a kiss to the top of her head.
Harry was thrilled he wasn’t the least bit jealous of their physical interaction. It really made it seem like he was jealous of her not talking to him. Even just thinking about that bristled him a bit. He was irritated that she didn’t feel comfortable talking to him the way she did with Niall.
How were they supposed to get married if she wouldn’t tell him her every thought? It was an irrational worry, but he couldn’t help thinking about it.
Harry smirked despite the nagging little thought, as he set her food out. “I think that’s damning by faint praise. I don’t think I could look worse than earlier,” she snorted. Harry rolled his eyes and Niall laughed a bit more.
“So hard on yourself, darling,” he shook his head. Harry let them chat while they all ate quietly. Harry wanted to put her to bed and massage her head so she could relax. But he liked that Niall was good at keeping her chatting, distracting her. Harry was too nervous and busy cooing about her to hold a real conversation right now. Plus, he didn’t want to make her cry any more than she probably would on her own—if only because her head was still hurting her. He could see it on the little pinch of skin between her eyebrows and he wished she would just go to sleep so she could feel better.
“Do you need some time off…the whole week to get things figured out?” Niall asked. His voice was quiet and gentle—like he didn’t want to ask her. Harry was glad he asked it because it was an important question, and he was worried he would accidentally force her to take the week off if he tried asking.
“No,” she shook her head quickly. “That’s the last thing I want,” she emphasized the word last as she put the forkful of food to her mouth. Niall and Harry glanced at each other for just one moment. Harry shrugged one shoulder hoping she didn’t notice. “I’m sad, not blind.” He smirked despite himself. Niall tried to cover his laugh with a throat clearing. “Mom probably doesn’t want me there,” she said casually. Like it wasn’t the death of a parent. Like it was a birthday dinner. Or a doctor’s appointment. Her tone and words broke Harry’s heart. How could someone not love her? He truly couldn’t imagine. He wanted to ask why her mother wouldn’t forgive her, but it wasn’t his place to ask. Plus, (even though he might disagree with her mother’s choice and ignoring her very much perfect daughter) who was he to judge how she chose to grieve for another child? He wished with everything in him that they cared for her the way they were supposed to...before it was too late. She was so special, and it was unfair she didn’t have the support she deserved. “I don’t know. Maybe Louis will know what to do when he gets back...so I’ll at least work through Tuesday.”
“Well, whatever you need,” Niall shrugged. “I don’t want to hold you from sleep. You could use a ton of it. Thanks for the food, Harry,” he smiled. The poor thing was getting droopy eyed again. Niall kissed the top of her head and gave a wave as he headed out. “Call if you need me!”
*
She claimed it was much too early to go to bed. It wasn’t, but Harry would have agreed the sky was red if it came from her lips. He wasn’t arguing with her at all this weekend. Whatever her heart wanted, it was all hers. Her sleepiness wore quick, and she fell asleep almost immediately as The Good Place played while he rubbed her feet in his lap. Or at least, he thought she was asleep. “Harry,” she mumbled.
“Yes, kitten?” He asked curiously looking at her half sleeping figure.
“Would you ever do all this for…a regular companion?”
He shook his head. He would do anything for her, answer any question, but he wished she wasn’t worried about this right now. “No, but you’re very different than all the other ones.”
“You don’t have to pay me as much…since I don’t…” she trailed off.
“Kitten, I’d simply pay you more if y’did,” he had a sad smile on his lips as he spoke. That’s not why he wanted her. He meant it from the moment he responded to her over six months ago.
“Hardly seems fair,” she muttered. “I think you need to reevaluate our agreement. I know I’m not CEO, but I know a thing or two about supply and demand and cost efficiency.”
He chuckled. “Love, why are y’worrying about this right now?”
“I don’t know,” she shrugged. Her eyes were still closed. “I worry a lot about other people,” she told him.
He couldn’t argue with that. “I noticed.”
They were quiet for a long while. Harry pressed his thumbs into the soles of her feet noting every little sigh that escaped her lips. Eventually he noticed her light snores. He carefully moved her feet to the side and slid off the couch. With a blanket he had tossed over the back, he covered her lightly and pressed a kiss to her forehead. He didn’t want to leave her there, but he wanted to take the next step in making sure she had everything she needed to recover from such a horrible couple of days.
*
She doesn’t know when she woke up, but Harry was backlit by the TV, knelt beside her. His hands were gentle as he rubbed her arm. “Hey, love. I ran you a bath.”
The last time she took a bath was surely in childhood. But Harry looked so proud that he did the right thing. She felt woozy again as she stood. Her brain aching but she wasn’t due for medicine for a while. A bath and some sleep might do some good. Harry led her to the bathroom and started to pull her clothes off: the cozy sweater, the silky blouse, and the dark dress pants that tied around her waist.
She wanted to protest out of awkwardness and shyness. She couldn’t believe Harry was undressing her again without the pretense of more, but Harry was acting like this was normal. Almost as if he was pretending, he didn’t notice what he was doing fully. His mind wasn’t on the fact she was naked before him, he was just taking care of her. She didn’t even blush as he did so.
He had a little towel folded where her head rested, and she sank into the warm water. Of course, Harry made sure the house was a comfortable room temperature given the winter air outside, but until she was slipping into the water, she was reminded it was the dead of winter and the water was so warm against the cold air. “Hmm,” she sighed. Harry rolled his sleeves up—she noticed he changed into a pair of joggers and a long sleeve T-shirt. Carefully, he leaned over the side of the basin, and tangled his fingers through her hair and started massaging the pads of his fingertips against her scalp. She sighed. “You gotta be careful or I’ll never leave this tub.”
If it meant he could always wake up and find her here, he’d massage her hair forever and draw a bath for her every day of their lives.
*
After the water started to cool and she was nearly back to sleep once more, Harry gently coaxed her to stand. Harry had the fluffiest towels. Like a hotel. She loved his washer and dryer. Everything about him and his house was a warm hug. She was going to hate leaving it in the spring. He wrapped her in one of the fluffy towels and helped her step out of the tub. “M’sleepy,” she mumbled.
“I know, beautiful,” he hummed. “Just wanna get y’dressed.”
“I don’t have clothes.”
Harry bit his lip and in her sleepy, grief-stricken mind she swore his cheeks had turned pink. “I…I may have had Gemma order some things for y’back when y’were all burned so y’always had stuff here,” he gestured to the folded pile on the sink counter.
If she wasn’t so tired, she probably would have asked a hundred questions. Did he snoop through her clothes looking for sizes when she wasn’t looking? Why did he get expensive brands like Lulu Lemon? That seemed so excessive even for him. She didn’t even own it. How much did he get? And of course, had he ever done this before for someone else?
But the gesture was so sweet she was rendered speechless. Without any kind of fanfare, he handed her the pair of underwear still packaged in plastic while he pulled the tag off the shirt while he waited for her to slide them on. He did the same with the sweatpants. This was by far one of the kindest things any man had ever done for her.
Harry stepped out of the bathroom and headed to “her” bedroom. He tugged the covers back and left the room. She frowned sliding between the sheets thinking he was leaving her just like that. Harry returned quickly with an assortment of items in his arms. Her phone, a glass of water, pills, and a book tucked under his arm. “I…I don’t read much. But I do like this one. Thought y’might like it,” he sounded so shy. “And I know y’like t’have a book nearby.”
After having his sister order clothes for her, this had to be the second sweetest thing a man had ever done for her.
For the last half hour, the bath, the head massage, the book, and the clothes…she almost forgot the last day and a half was so terrible. Harry was pure medicine for her tired body and mind. She wished she was there for a normal circumstance.
“Do you have everything you need?” He asked. “Can I get you anything else?”
You. She shook her head. “I feel like a princess,” she mumbled. He smiled and brushed his thumb on her cheek.
“Think y’are one, love,” he pressed a long kiss to the middle of her forehead. “Shout if y’need something. Sleep well, beautiful,” he whispered.
As he turned to leave, at the last second, she grabbed his hand and pulled lightly. He stumbled a bit as he turned back to her. She clutched her hand around his instinctively. Held tight. It took her a minute to realize she had even reached for him.
He couldn’t believe her beautiful doe-eyed expression. Surely, she was the most gorgeous thing to ever exist. Harry swore his heart softened into mush as he looked her over for signs of tears or sadness. He knew he looked on with confusion, but he loved how her hand felt wrapped around his.
She didn’t say anything, and after a second, she just lifted the covers up in invitation.
Harry didn’t hesitate to slip in beside and wrap his body around hers. He flipped over to the other side of her. She pressed her face against his chest. He held her so close. For the last thirty odd hours she felt so broken emotionally, mentally, and physically.
With Harry wrapped around her, she finally felt whole.
*
Harry woke up still snuggled up to her. He carefully reached over her sleeping figure for a sip of her water and did his best not to disturb her. But she was pressing her fingertips over his chest like she was playing an imaginary piano. “Are y’awake, love?” He whispered. She nodded. It was so dark and so quiet in the room. “Are y’okay?” He asked.
She nodded again. “You worry too much about me,” her voice was soft and quiet. The only kind of voice that could be used at one thirty in the morning.
He had one arm wrapped beneath her neck and pillow, crooked around her so his arm wouldn’t go numb, but he could still hold her tight. The other draped over her waist. He nodded in response to her statement. “You gave me quite the scare over the last day.”
“I’ve been dealt worse hands,” she responded dryly.
“You certainly use humor as a main coping mechanism.”
“It drove my therapist nuts,” she had a touch of laughter in her breathy whisper. Harry never gave much thought to her family because she didn’t. As far as he could tell, Louis and Eleanor were her family. But it made sense she went to therapy for all she had gone through at sixteen. He wondered if she ever still went but didn’t want to ask something so personal. “Whatcha thinking about Mr. Styles? Me in a straitjacket?”
He snorted quietly. “Hardly…how long did y’go t’therapy for?
“Two years, every two weeks. Then once every other month all through university. I don’t go anymore,” he was a little grateful she volunteered the information without him having to ask. He would worry endlessly if she wasn’t feeling up to par and felt like she had to hide something that was helping her well-being.
“No?”
“I mean. I’ll probably make an appointment now but no. I haven’t had an appointment in a while.”
“Why’s that?” He had to know.
She didn’t respond to that question, however. She thought telling him that she met a guy who actually worried about her in such a casual way would send Harry into cardiac arrest. “Do you like the night?” She asked instead.
Harry didn’t mind that she didn’t answer. It wasn’t that important. “Hmm?”
“I’m a morning person. But I think when you can’t see the other person, night is better. Much more revealing.”
“Tell me something then,” Harry lazily drew shapes along her arm that looped back over his torso.
“I just told you about therapy. Your turn.”
He chuckled under his breath. “I’ll tell y’anything y’want t’know.”
She waited a minute. “Do you really like pineapple on pizza?” She whispered.
He laughed almost loudly. Especially for nearly two in the morning. “Yes, kitten.”
She sighed. “I really had a chance of falling for you and everything.”
“Is that so?”
She didn’t want to repeat that mainly because it was a lie. She had already fallen so hard. So, she moved onto her next question. “What did you do on movie night?” She asked.
“I went to the gym and took m’frustration out on a punching bag.”
She ignored the idea of angry Harry. Especially because of her. “Do you go to the gym a lot?” She wondered.
“Usually at the company one during the day.”
They chatted for about half an hour. Talking about random things. Harry laughed a lot at her jokes, and she enjoyed the feel of his fingers continuously running along the inside of her arm and sliding up to comb through her hair. “Kitten,” he mumbled as she got sleepier. Her answers and questions less vibrant in tone as she started drifting back to sleep.
“Hmm?”
“Do you remember when I was sick?” He asked. She nodded against his arm. “You called me baby a lot when I was getting less foggy,” he said. “I didn’t know why.”
Harry could feel the smile moving her cheeks with her face pressed to her arms. “You asked me to. Said it made you feel better.”
He smirked, felt his cheeks warm knowing he asked her for such a silly but somewhat intimate thing. “Oh,” he chuckled. “Sorry.”
She was quiet for a moment. Harry almost thought she fell asleep. “I didn’t mind.”
His heart felt so warm. “You can call me ‘baby’ anytime,” he told her.
She yawned and nuzzled her nose against his T-shirt in response. Again, he thought she’d fallen asleep when she answered him once more. “Night, baby.”
“Good night, love.”
*
Harry once more stilled her hand as she reached for the car door once they were parked. He got out quickly and hurried to her side of the car to open the door. “I didn’t know you knew how to drive,” she giggled.
“Hardy-har,” he rolled his eyes holding his hand out for her as she exited the car. They were outside an electronics store. Harry couldn’t remember the last time he went shopping in person and out from behind his computer screen. It seemed like fun to get out of the house. Especially since she only had one request when she woke up that morning in the circle of Harry’s arms. “I don’t want to think about it today. Is that alright?”
“Harry,” she said alertly, alarm in her voice and pulled on his hand with a quick tug right before he walked into traffic as a car passed by. He smirked and looked back at her. Apparently, it had been long enough that he wasn’t as mindful about parking lots as he should have been.
“Thanks kitten. Keep hold of this for me? Don’t want to get hurt,” He said squeezing his hand in hers. His smile was flirty and adorable. She loved weekend Harry. The last time she spent the whole weekend with him was when she wasn’t up to par. Maybe emotionally she still wasn’t up to snuff, but this was better than him having to worry about her burns by far.
How was Harry going to deny any request for the girl he was so enthralled with?
She kept hold of his hand and she thought from the outside they must look like a regular old couple. No one would question it. He guided her through the doors and to the back where the laptops were displayed. She perused them for a while. “M’so sorry love. I’m getting a phone call,” he gave her hand a squeeze and made way for the exit in case he needed better reception outside. “Styles,” he spoke clearly. She smirked and continued her search.
She looked at the different brands. Sure, Harry had a ton of money but of course she wasn’t going to pick the most expensive one just for the sake of it. She didn’t do much on her laptop except type her reflections these days, shop online every so often, and watch Netflix. “Can I help you?” The person working in the computer section asked. “That’s a fairly good one you’re looking at,” he told her.
She touched the keyboard. “My current one died,” she explained. “But I liked it. So, I figured maybe I’d just get a new one of the same kind.”
“Can I persuade you to a different brand? It would be much better,” he said with a smile. “I wouldn’t want you to have a poor laptop.”
She knew where this was going based on the way his eyes sparkled. It didn’t seem to matter if she thought so poorly of herself. She was a girl in the electronics section and if it wasn’t the employee, it would have been a random man showing off his knowledge trying to convince her that he could take care of her needs. She sighed. “I’m not sure...I like this one.”
He was about to launch into a story about why it was better. She was prepared to listen politely but ultimately, she would probably pick this one. However, he kept encroaching on her personal space, and it was making her a bit weary as he explained the better quality of RAM and storage on the other brand he wanted to suggest. She was nearly bored to sleep when he brushed his hand on her arm. With little notice of just how close he was, she jerked back awkwardly and bumped into something solid behind her. Whatever it was, it only gave just enough to cradle her before she fell completely backward. “Hi beautiful,” Harry muttered holding her up. He dropped a kiss to the top of her head as he kept her steady. Then he looped his fingers back through hers. “Find one you liked?” He asked but he was staring at the employee who looked shocked.
“Umm… yeah. This one,” she pointed confused by how calm Harry was being. He nearly broke his friendship with Niall when he saw him touching her. How was he so rational over a stranger? Her heart fluttered violently. Harry glanced at the specifications printed on the little display model and then turned to the worker.
“Can we have the top version of this one,” he asked.
“Harry,” she whispered. “I don’t—”
“Right away,” the poor guy said hurrying behind the doors nearby to get the best model.
“Stupid idiot,” Harry grunted under his breath. How could he not know she was here with someone? How could he think she would fall for someone that was trying to dissuade her opinion of which laptop she wanted? Harry needed to be more careful when he left her alone.
Oh. He was very mad. She felt her face warm. “Harry?” She asked tentatively. He squeezed her hand.
“Yes, love?” He murmured.
“I don’t need to get the fanciest one,” she whispered. He squeezed her hand again, reassuringly.
“Mmm…”
“Harry, I swear I didn’t flirt or anything,” she promised.
He scoffed. “Kitten,” he shook his head. “You’re not seriously apologizing for someone else’s behavior?” She bit her lip. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and placed another kiss on the top of her head. “Shh,” he hushed as the worker returned. “Thanks,” Harry said grabbing the box from his hands and turning the two of them away from the display. He brought her along the back wall to look at laptop cases. “Want one?”
“Umm…I don’t know. I don’t think I really need one...I already have one that would probably fit this—"
“I like this one with the sunflowers on it. It looks like something you’d like,” he said pointing to one of the cases on the wall.
She blinked. “I remind you of sunflowers?”
“You wore this dress with sunflowers on it back in September when you first started,” he shrugged. “Thought you looked adorable.”
Her cheeks warmed at his assessment, and she grabbed at the case immediately. “Yes, I want it.”
He smiled. “Do you want anything else?”
She shook her head. “No this is plenty.”
He steered her toward the checkout line. The guy at the counter rang her stuff quickly, Harry accepted the five-year warranty that she normally skimped out on because it seemed useless. Harry slid his black AmEx card through not even registering the total at all. She did though, and she couldn’t imagine spending that much on something for herself in one go.
Harry opened her car door for her as she got inside. She was buckling herself when Harry got in on his side and in one motion, maneuvered so the back of her head pressed firmly against the headrest and his lips attached to hers. He devoured her breath. Making her already cloudy head spin. Pulling back, he pecked at her lips a few more times. She felt totally breathless. All Harry did was smirk at her and then reached up to brush his thumb over her cheek. Then starting his car up, he drove off without a word.
She would never intentionally make Harry jealous. But she liked it when the rewards of his jealousy resulted in kisses for her.
*
They were almost finished with The Good Place. A few more episodes were left when she felt a bit hungry. “Can we have breakfast for dinner?”
“What am I gonna make y’in the morning, then?” He smirked at her giving her arm a squeeze. They were snuggled up on the couch, again like an ordinary couple.
She frowned so cutely. Her little pout made his heart melt. He would have made her breakfast any time of day she wanted, multiple times a day, and he would eat it happily. “Well, I’m going to be sad tomorrow, and I don’t want to ruin breakfast by being sad,” she explained.
It was his turn to frown. “You’re gonna be sad tomorrow?” He asked.
“I think I have to deal with it, no?” She muttered.
Harry sighed. He hadn’t gotten an update from the lawyer since he stepped out of the electronics store earlier in the day. He was hoping for better news before he gave her information. Before she had to be sad. He didn’t ask them to go in guns ablaze. He just wanted to make sure her mum had everything she needed and that all would be taken care of so that she wouldn’t shorten the poor girl that had already lost so much. After the terrible day she had, he just wanted to give her the quiet and perfect weekend she deserved. Filled with kisses, good food, snuggles, and TV... and maybe a book if she wanted.
“Maybe y’should wait until Louis and Eleanor get back?” He suggested casually. “Gives y’more time t’recover...and if y’need t’take a day or two, love—”
“Okay,” she interrupted quickly but it was still sweet as syrup the way she said it. “I’ll think about it. Maybe Tuesday or something would be better.”
He sighed with relief quietly. Grateful he’d have the weekend to spoil her and figure out more details on the law end of things. Maybe he could even run it by Louis to get a bit more of the picture.
But for now, he would make her an omelet, pancakes, French toast, or even crepes if she wanted.
*
After their breakfast for dinner, Harry had her lying against his chest while the last of the episodes played. She was a quiet thing when she slept. He didn’t notice she had fallen asleep until the show was over, the screen dark, and he heard the quiet, rhythmic breaths coming from her. He kissed her forehead and shifted awkwardly until she was cradled against him, and he carried her down the hall to his bedroom. If she was okay with sleeping together last night, he hoped she wouldn’t mind tonight.
Plus, his bed was larger. He placed her in the middle and managed to shimmy the covers beneath her body. He slid in beside her and kissed her forehead once more. She cuddled against him silently, without waking. He sighed, completely content with the scent of her shampoo filling his brain. It was like a potion clouding his mind with overwhelming emotions of adoring her.
“Baby?” She hummed after several moments. Harry was almost asleep himself when she spoke.
God, he loved that word coming from her mouth directed at him. “Hmm? Need something, love?” He whispered.
“Did you carry me?”
He chuckled. “Yes, kitten.”
“Don’t do that again.”
“No promises.”
She pinched his shoulder without any pain. “Cheeky.” More silence. “Thanks for letting me stay here.”
“Course, angel. Wouldn’t want you anywhere else.”
“I meant your bed.”
“I did too.”
*
At one in the morning, they shared more secrets. Harry told her about some of his university days. Told her about a couple of his girlfriends and why they didn’t work out. He even chatted about some of his companions. She talked about the ex that cheated on her. How he never really understood her grief. “Sounds like he did y’a favor, love,” he said distastefully. He played with a strand of her hair running it against the side of her cheek. Harry adored her so heavily it shocked him that she didn’t have droves of men asking her to marry them.
“Well now I think he did...because I have a taste of the life I always wanted. A cute little office, almost finished with my second degree, and a cute guy that makes me breakfast and owns a porch swing,” she said dreamily. “What else does life have to offer?”
He chuckled. “A porch swing?”
“I would sleep out there if it was acceptable.” He kept that in mind. He wanted her to live here so badly. He would do anything to have her wake up in his arms always. He would chat with her at one in the morning every day as long as he lived. This was the most whole and perfect he felt in a long while.
“When’s your graduation ceremony?” The reminder she was almost done with her degree prompted him to start planning the rest of their lives. Also, he wanted to get her a really good gift.
“I’m not going,” she shook her head.
“Kitten,” his tone was admonishing. “You have to.”
She shook her head. “I went to my brother’s and Louis’ right before it happened...I wouldn’t want to upset Louis again thinking about it. Course Mom would never come,” she almost had an eyeroll in her voice. “I don’t see much point. It’s usually a family event...and I don’t really have one of those.”
He frowned. Of course, she was worried about everyone else. “Love, y’should be celebrated. S’a big deal.”
She shrugged. “I’d go by myself. I wouldn’t get any pictures...I just...I don’t know. I told El and Lou they don’t have a ceremony for my program...” He bit the inside of his lip. He would have to figure it out. Her best friends would love to go. He, of course, would be there with confetti for her. And he was certain Niall would love to go, too.
“Can y’think about it some more?” He asked quietly.
She nodded. “Sure.”
“No, really,” he rolled his eyes at her quick response.
Sighing, she took another deep breath and nodded firmly. “I will, baby.”
“Don’t distract me by calling me baby,” he said kissing her forehead.
“Did it work?” She giggled.
“Yes.”
*
Harry woke up smushed against his pillow. She was sitting up and reading the book he selected for her. Her hand was massaging against his scalp while tangling her fingers in his hair. He would love to live like this forever. It felt like magic. “D’you like it?” He mumbled and wrapped his arm over her lap.
She nodded. “It’s very good.”
He smiled and enjoyed the feel of her fingers in his hair for a little while longer. “D’you want more breakfast?” He asked. She put the book aside and wiggled until she was face to face with him. She slid her fingers over his face and admired how perfect he looked. Just a bit of sleep was still in his eyes as he tried to wake up. An adorable smile filling his face and the greenest eyes she ever had the pleasure of looking at. He looked a bit scruffy because he hadn’t shaved in a while. He didn’t usually need to shave all that often, but she noticed he hadn’t done so in over a week and a half. “What?” He asked with the most adorable smirk on his face.
He was way too good for her. Paying her for any reason, taking care of her, all of it was way too much. Especially after her terrible days. This wasn’t why he paid her. All she could think about now was sunflowers when she looked at him. The book he recommended on the side table. How he carried her to bed. In a couple months this would all be over. She would have a new job, a new apartment, and Harry wouldn’t make her breakfast anymore.
The thought saddened her so much. Once more she wished she had met him online. Or didn’t intern at Styles Incorporated. Maybe if they weren’t so tied together, they could have something more. Harry never pressured her in the rapidly approaching seven months they’d known one another.
She leaned forward and pressed her lips against his as she had many times before. He looped his arm around her, pulled her closer while he ran his tongue along her lip while reaching for the side of her face with his other hand. She sighed contentedly as he held her and kissed her for so long.
“Kitten,” he said pulling away from her mouth abruptly as her hands drifted down his torso and fiddled with the elastic of his pants.
Blushing, she glanced at him awkwardly. “Please?” She whispered.
“Oh hell, love,” he moaned. “Don’t need t’do that,” his voice was so deep as he mumbled the words. Her soft pleaded request, the doe-eyes...almost had him finishing before they even started. “Are y’sure?” He asked. She nodded silently. Harry kissed her again and again and again and again...
*
She was so quiet afterward. Hell, she was quiet during it. Harry was terrified that she didn’t like it...or worse regretted it. She rested her head against his chest, eyes closed. “We missed breakfast,” she whispered so casually Harry was grateful she finally spoke.
He chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “Can still have it,” he told her.
She shook her head. “Want pasta...and garlic bread.”
“Whatever you want,” he promised.
“Whatever I want?” She hummed. You. You. You. She thought.
“M-hmm...” Forever. Whatever you want, forever. He wanted to say.
“Don’t think you’re ready for that just yet,” she whispered drawing a tantalizing little circle just below where his belt would sit.
“Insatiable,” he mumbled and rolled over, so he was hovering above her. He smiled down at her and then pressed a kiss to her forehead, then her lips. “Give me a minute,” he said and bent down to kiss the length of her jaw, down her neck, over her collarbone, the length of her sternum...down further until there was nowhere else to go.
She giggled and Harry wished with everything in him that Monday would never arrive because this was the most perfect Sunday in existence. Just her right there in his bed. A book by her side. The most beautiful smile he could dream of on the most perfect girl he could imagine.
I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)
Well this is the fastest I've ever written. Sorry to leave you hanging on part 7 like that. You can read Traditional here.
I actually wanted this part to be longer but I think I stopped it at a good spot to continue with what I want in the next part but the next part will be a hot minute before it’s posted also part 9 will pick up right where this leaves off.
Warnings: angst (see I remembered the word this time), death mentioned, mourning, (etc.)
“Can I help you?”
Her heart officially shattered. Her head snapped up to the beautiful woman’s voice and she gasped. It felt like someone wrapped their hand around her throat and was squeezing all life out of her. “Oh my God,” how could Niall suggest this? Did he know? Was Harry really that mad at her he would have Niall convince her to come over and see another woman and...? “I’m so sorry,” she whispered breathlessly.
She stopped by the bathroom to take stock of what she looked like as soon as she got to the floor. She put the bag at her feet and stood in front of the sink counter and gripped the edge. The pain in her arm from her slip ached from the bruise forming on her forearm and rippled up the length of her arm as she held onto the counter. Taking a deep breath, she finally looked in the mirror.
Ill. She looked ill. From a green complexion to her red eyes. Her nose was cold and reddening by the second making her look like she had a cold. Bloodshot eyes and overall, just the pallor of a ghost. Her head ached and it was a dumb idea to come back to work. Surely, she would mess up more things. But there wasn’t much else she could do and nowhere else she could really go.
Slowly she closed her eyes and dropped her chin to her chest in defeat. Then tilted her neck all the way back to the ceiling. “Goddamn it,” she hissed to herself. Grabbing her bag, she walked swiftly back to her office. Maybe she would just sit there and stare at her computer screen until Harry finally fired her.
Niall covered the microphone with his hand. “Darling?” He asked curiously as the door to her office opened. “I’ll call y’back,” he dropped his phone back to the receiver and he hurried to her little space. “I thought—”
“I have no where to go,” she said curtly. Niall didn’t deserve her abrupt tone, but it was the only one she could give. This day was so awful, and she had nowhere to go except the one place she would most assuredly run into at least half of her problems. And that was her best option.
Without a debit card, she had no way to get to the hospital. Her apartment belonged to Harry and right now she didn’t want to be anywhere that was associated with him and the part of her life with him outside company walls. Her laptop was broken and even if she could use it her brain wouldn’t function.
“What are you talking—your apartment?” He reminded her with a question in his voice.
“You mean Harry’s apartment?”
“Love, all things considered, he wouldn’t kick you out or something... he wouldn’t do that to you. Not even on his worst day.”
She shook her head. That’s not what she meant but it was a new fear that twisted her stomach in knots on top of everything else. The tears flooded back into her vision. “I don’t want to talk about any of this Niall. I just want to work so I don’t have to think. If I have even a second to think about anything but work, I’m going to explode, and I can’t do that in front of you—”
“Sure, you can,” he said encouragingly. “Come on,” he said and tugged her out of her seat and into his office. She was too weak to do anything but follow obligingly. He gently guided her to the sofa he had in the room and hurried to his desk. He scribbled something, practically ran back to the door, and smacked the paper on the front before shutting it, blocking out the rest of the floor.
“What’s that?” She asked, curiosity getting the best of her as she looked at her hands in her lap.
“Says ‘Do not disturb. Meeting in progress.’”
“You’re going to get in trouble because of me,” she mumbled.
“Don’t worry, I know the boss pretty well.”
“That’s especially why.”
“He left for the day.”
She blinked. “What?” She asked softly. Other than being sick, Harry didn’t leave early. Ever. Most often he stayed late. The rest he left on time and not a moment sooner.
“He wasn’t feeling himself,” Niall said with a shrug. “Think you know why,” he was so casual about it. Her heart fluttered with worry despite how angry he was with her. How was she supposed to feel? She was in love with him. It didn’t matter. “Go on, then. Please tell me. I’ve been dying to help you as much as you help me.”
She shook her head. “I can’t Niall. You’re my boss—”
“Oh, for God’s sake, love. You’re also the love of my best friend’s life. Would you just talk to me already?” She looked at him as if she was really seeing him for the first time. She couldn’t believe he said that out loud. Now she understood why he put the note up. He wasn’t doing this as her boss. This was Harry’s best friend. If she could dream or hope about a future with Harry, he would be one of her best friends, too. “Pretend I’m not your boss right now.”
She apparently didn’t need much more encouragement for her already bubbling emotions to flow over. Poor Niall took it all in stride. Every word that exploded out of her, all the tears, everything. It wasn’t like when she talked to Harry, and it definitely wasn’t like when she talked to Louis. She told him all about the last twenty-four hours from Hell. She listed every inconvenience, every heartbreak. The debit card, the mean coworker, her dad, how her coffee tasted bad and got everywhere, her laptop was broken, and Louis and Eleanor were her only friends, and she couldn’t even go see them. “And of course, Harry hates me, so I didn’t get to see him last night,” she finished blubbering. She didn’t give lots of details on most anything, just the coworker since that was one of the only ones that she could see him dealing with. Not that she wanted him to.
“To be fair, I think Harry hates me, right now,” he smirked sadly.
“That’s almost worse,” she sniffled.
Niall rolled his eyes as he rubbed her back soothingly with the palm of his hand and watched her dab her eyes with the tissues he got from his desk. “He hates me because he thinks I’m stealing you away because you didn’t tell him any of that. And he’s mad that you didn’t want to tell him. He thought your relationship was evolving and you took like ten steps back without a word. Christ darling, I’m mad you for not saying anything about the harassment. That is not okay. You’re not plain, you’re lovely. She’s just jealous.”
She found it interesting that he agreed with Louis’s assessment. “That’s what Louis said, even before she talked to me.”
Niall shook his head. “She was extremely cruel for no reason, I’m so sorry, love. You did not deserve that.”
She shrugged awkwardly, defeated still. Even getting all of that off her chest. “I am plain. It’s why I was so worried about my... situation with Harry...I don’t...” she took a deep breath. “You’re not my boss right now?” She repeated his statement as a question for reassurance. He shook his head.
“Just a really good friend,” he promised. “I won’t tell Harry,” he added for good measure.
“I don’t even think he’ll want to sleep with me because I’m so ordinary and...” Despite his talk with Niall and that fact they were both aware of her relationship with Harry, she still didn’t like bringing it up. Plus, the untraditional details were lost on her, and she didn’t want to have to explain it to Niall awkwardly.
“Love,” Niall smirked. “Harry is...infatuated with you,” he promised. “You don’t have to worry about any of that kind of thing. He would—look I don’t want to say it because it sounds like locker room talk and I don’t want you to think he and I talk about you like that. We don’t, I promise—but that’s not something you need to worry about. I’ve never seen him like this about anyone he’s ever been involved with romantically one way or another.”
It made her heart hope, and she hated it. She was prepared for defeat. Harry wouldn’t be in love with her anymore. They wouldn’t get dinner on Mondays or watch movies on Thursdays. There would be no more little sleepovers where he would be sick and accidentally tell her he loved her and forget by morning. She shook her head. “Niall, I...” She swallowed.
“Please tell me you’re in love with him, I’ve been dying for you to say it almost as much as he has.”
The smallest pause. Niall wasn’t her boss. “Of course, I’m in love with him. How can you not be?” She asked, face blushing, as she stared at her hands.
Niall sighed. “You need to tell him what you told me,” he said.
She shook her head. “No, it’s not his problem. I’m a big girl and...I have to handle it.”
“But you don’t have to do it on your own,” he promised her. “I don’t know everything, but I see the way you work, and I know bits and pieces of what Harry is willing to tell me. I know you want to fix every problem that crosses your path for anyone that has one. If you walked into your office and spoke to the you that sits at your computer, how would you help?” He asked. “Would you tell yourself to keep it all bottled up or take a hike and deal with it yourself? Or would you, the person who helps everyone with anything they may need, help you?”
She took a deep breath. The first bit of clarity over the last twelve hours was finally reaching her ears from Niall. “I would help.”
“Then help yourself, darling. Please. Tell Harry.”
She closed her eyes and nodded solemnly. “I think I have to go to the hospital first,” she said to Niall. “But I don’t have a debit card or a ride.”
“Call Harry’s driver. He won’t care. Or I’ll take you, I don’t mind at all,” Niall reached into his wallet and pulled out one of his plastic cards. “I think this has a 25,000-spending limit,” he smirked. “I’d be impressed if you used all of it in one weekend,” he smiled. “Bring it back Monday,” he shrugged. “Definitely use it to get a new laptop when you have time.”
Sucking her lip into her mouth she awkwardly took the card “Please don’t tell Harry about...her...”
He frowned. “Darling,” his tone was so disapproving. It sounded like that was going to be Niall’s first call. Maybe second if he called the bitchy woman down to his office to fire her after the sweet girl left.
“He’ll fire her.”
“As he should! She harassed you!”
She closed her eyes and shook her head. “Please, Niall,” she whispered.
He sighed bitterly. If even one thing that happened to her over the last day didn’t happen, he wouldn’t have listened. But she had been through enough and he didn’t want to be the cause of any more of her anxiety. Besides, once he was officially forgiven by Harry, he would ask for front row seats to her exit interview. “Okay, darling. I won’t. Go to the hospital. Then you have to go to Harry’s.”
*
Harry’s driver was kind throughout the ride and didn’t ask her a single question about why she needed to go to a hospital. In fact, other than asking if she wanted to listen to a certain type of music, he didn’t ask any questions. “Won’t Harry notice?” She eventually asked.
“No,” he shrugged one shoulder as he passed towards the streets that used to be home. She lived an hour away now, but it felt like an entirely foreign country right now. “Probably not. If he needed me, I would probably send another one of the drivers from the company,” he said simply.
The remainder of the drive was silent. Her heart beating erratically with every closer turn to the town she left. “Do you need help?” He asked when they arrived at the hospital. She shook her head steeling herself for the horribleness she was about to endure in so many emotional forms.
“No... thank you,” she said gratefully. “And... if you have to leave... I understand. But could you please...don’t tell Harry.”
“Of course, Miss,” he smiled encouragingly. Taking her work bag with her, she stepped out of the car and headed into the hospital.
*
It was a little over an hour later that she left the hospital with one less parent in existence. Although, she hadn’t had two parents since before her brother died, she felt saddened knowing that it would never be amended. And for her mom, it would never be the same. She would always be alone, now.
Naturally, it didn’t seem to bother her mother all that much. “I’ll never forgive you,” her mom said with tears in her eyes. “You can leave now.”
When it came to her parents, there wasn’t much she could do but listen. Part of her wanted to appease them and hope that eventually they would love her again. So of course, after she said goodbye there was nothing left for her to do except listen to her mother’s request.
Her loss didn’t feel as sad as it should have. Probably because when her brother passed, she didn’t just lose her brother. She lost her best friend and her parents all in one swoop. Mourning her brother at age sixteen when her friends were buying prom dresses and going on college tours in hopes of meeting college boys was a tragedy that Shakespeare wouldn’t write.
There was nothing like mourning the death of people who were still alive and lived with you every day.
When she exited the hospital room, she called the driver once more who told her to wait five minutes and he would pull around so she wouldn’t have to wait in the cold. She stood outside anyway, for the full five minutes letting the cold wash over her. She was already numb. Everything that had happened in such a short amount of time was numbing her. The cold didn’t even hurt because she was already in so much pain.
All she wanted was to see Harry. Her chest ached at the thought of being held by him. It would cure her broken heart, she was certain.
She sniffled and a few stray tears spilt over her lash line. Without her realizing, she got more teary as she waited, only noticing when his driver reappeared. “Miss,” the driver said hurriedly. He was rushing over to her on the sidewalk reaching for her bag and offered her a tissue from his pocket. He placed a hand on her lower back to guide her up the sidewalk to the car. “Is everything alright? Are you—”
She shook her head, tears steadily falling down her cheeks. She opened the door herself as he looked on with worry. “I’m fine,” she whispered but her voice broke on the word fine. “Can you take me to Harry’s?”
*
The closer she got to his house, the more anxious and sadder she got. As he parked in the driveway, she strongly considered telling him to take her back to the apartment. However, she all but promised Niall she would come here. Maybe these tears would make him listen at least for a moment. Wringing her hands together, she sat silently, awkwardly in her seat before the driver even made a move after several minutes. With a deep breath, she swallowed and pushed the door out of the way. “Can you wait five more minutes in case he really hates me, and I need to leave?” She asked.
The driver chuckled dryly. “He doesn’t hate you, but I’ll wait,” he said.
She made her way across the path and up the steps to his front door. She knocked and was prepared to stare at her feet the whole time she waited for Harry to open the door. Maybe she even planned to stare at her feet if he was willing to talk to her. She was going to beg or cry (probably both) just for five minutes to explain everything. Five minutes to try and fix her broken heart.
“Can I help you?”
Her heart officially shattered. Her head snapped up to the beautiful woman’s voice and she gasped. It felt like someone wrapped their hand around her throat and was squeezing all life out of her. “Oh my God,” how could Niall suggest this? Did he know? Was Harry really that mad at her he would have Niall convince her to come over and see another woman and...? “I’m so sorry,” she whispered breathlessly. It felt like she was swallowing her tongue. She backed away, nearly losing her balance as she did. She wanted to be embarrassed about almost losing her balance but even standing upright she felt like she was swaying and the only thing she felt was betrayal and she had no right to feel that way.
“Whoa, hey,” the girl said reaching for her before she fell back off the steps. She regained her balance and felt like her stomach was going to heave up anything she had eaten—which wasn’t the time to remember but she realized she only had a bagel and a coffee this morning almost twelve hours ago.
Of course, Harry would find someone else. He was...him. He had money and he could have any girl he wanted. Someone beautiful. Someone who didn’t have all the baggage that she did. Someone who didn’t hide from him and someone who would do what a companion like her was supposed to do.
“Why are you apologizing? Is Harry expecting you?” She asked tilting her head curiously, trying to figure out who she was. Like this was normal for her to be answering the door and for her to be standing there. “Are you alright?” She asked gently.
She wished she wasn’t nice. It was making it harder for her to be mad. Seeing this kind woman opening the door to the house of the man she was in love with would have been so much easier if she could have been mad. But she was just heartbreakingly sad. “N-no...I...I didn’t mean to intrude, I’m so sorry,” she repeated hurrying down the few steps and nearly missed the last one tripping into the yard. So much so, she lost one of her shoes. Worse yet in her fit of non-embarrassment, just total shock, she left it there. “Oh my God,” she whimpered to herself. She was now truly worried she would throw up. She turned quickly and practically ran back for the driveway.
“Kitten?!” Harry shouted from somewhere in the house.
“Hey, wait!” The woman called suddenly.
“Fuck,” she heard Harry hiss as she hurried back to the car, tears falling quickly down her cheeks as she awkwardly limped without her shoe the path to the driveway. With her head start she thought she really might make it in the car and drive away before Harry got to her. But he had much longer legs...and he wasn’t bogged down by missing a shoe. “Goddammit! Love, stop!” He shouted running across the yard. She pulled the door handle quickly trying to get away from this house, but the door smacked shut at the same time. Harry’s hand pressed to the window while the other grabbed her arm right where it bruised. She inhaled sharply in pain and winced. Harry dropped her arm like a hot potato, he released a breath out of frustration. “Kitten, stop,” he was out of breath from his short run—but it wasn’t the run making him breathless but the thought of losing her at this moment. She wanted to look up at him and see those perfect green eyes, but she was so scared. “Look at me, please,” he begged. But her eyes stayed glued to the driveway. Harry was only in socks, and she thought that was cute. His feet in socks. It wasn’t the time, but her brain was operating on no sleep and way too much trauma for one day.
Her face crumpled in pain and she shook her head. She couldn’t look at him, if she looked all the pain would boil over and she would start crying and never stop. Why didn’t Harry deserve some woman that would be there for him the way she couldn’t be? Why wouldn’t he want someone beautiful and not plain? Someone who wasn’t so young that she was still in the internship phase. Someone who didn’t need his money or a job. Someone who was brilliant enough to help him with whatever his company and he himself needed.
“Hey,” the woman’s voice suddenly sounded beside her. It was gentle and out of instinct she turned to the direction of the woman that was currently amplifying just how terrible her day could get just by existing. It wasn’t her fault either. She really thought the girl was beautiful and lovely. She was kind to not sneer at her as a sniveling mess. She sniffled looking at her curiously. The beautiful girl handed Harry her missing shoe then stuck her hand out to introduce herself. “M’Gemma,” she said softly, apologetically in tone as she smiled at her with a terrible look of pity directed toward her.
Even though one of the only things she prided herself on was being intelligent this had to be the dumbest thing she had ever done in her whole life. She was speechless. Couldn’t even say her own name as she held her hand out awkwardly and (fortunately for her) instinctively for Harry’s sister to shake.
At the same time, Harry crouched to the ground and placed her shoe back on her foot holding her ankle so gently, like she might break. “I was just going, truly,” Gemma smiled at her sympathetically. “I’ve heard loads about you. I’ll meet you again sometime, yeah?” She asked quietly. Harry was silent throughout the interaction. His breathing erratic as he was hoping she wouldn’t leave. “Bye Harry,” she kissed him on the cheek and Gemma went to the other side of the car and gave the driver a wave before sliding into the back seat. The car drove away leaving her alone with Harry.
“Kitten,” he whispered softly.
“I’ve had a terrible couple of days,” she sniffled tears clouding her vision again. The fear of Harry finding someone else nearly ruined her completely. She was lucky that wasn’t the case. But she still had to have this talk that she promised Niall.
“I know y’have love, I just...Niall texted me...and Louis is worried...and... my love,” his voice was so gentle. It pulled at every string in her heart.
She started to say the speech she had planned in her head when she arrived. Before she saw Gemma. “I know you hate me, but I have nowhere else to go,” she whimpered, and it was all too much, and she finally let her knees give out as she melted to the ground. She covered her face and cried.
“No. Baby, I don’t hate you. Not at all. M’so sorry about everything,” he promised crouching beside her. “Let’s go inside...s’too cold t’have y’out here,” he lifted around her waist to help her stand. He wanted to scoop her up and carry her because whatever demons she was fighting right now had made her weak. But she seemed overwhelmed already and he didn’t want to add to that any more than he already had by not realizing sooner that Gemma was talking to her without her knowing who Gemma was. So, once she was standing again, he held her hand and pulled her back to the house.
*
Gemma had been extremely helpful in working through Harry’s emotions with him. “You really think Niall of all people would do that to you?” She rolled her eyes.
Harry felt like her little brother at that moment. He didn’t too often anymore because he was always busy with his company, and he was always busy doing things that he never really got a chance to just be the younger sibling and have Gemma take care of him like she used to when they were young. “I think I love her, Gem.”
“Ya think?” She rolled her eyes. Harry sighed. The pair of them were sitting on his sofa and sipping tea. They ordered out for dinner and were now chatting so Harry would calm down. Harry never left work early, but he was so distraught and angry that something had to be done. Gemma came right over, and he told her everything about the girl of his dreams. Unbeknownst to Harry, Gemma was thrilled that Harry cared so deeply about someone in this capacity. Like Niall, she noticed it was so different than anyone he ever involved himself with up to this point in time. She couldn’t wait to tell their mum.
After venting for almost two hours and working through what he needed to do next, Gemma chatted about herself and caught him up on her life. In comparison, it wasn’t much. Work was good and her dating life was good. There wasn’t much to report.
Her phone vibrated. Hey Gem. It was Niall. I know he’s pissed at me, but can you tell him to look at his phone? It’s an emergency.
Frowning, she responded to Niall while she called out to Harry. “Harry, look at your phone. Niall said there’s an emergency.” He was putting the mugs in the sink when Gemma gave him the directions. As he put the phone in his hand, his stomach dropped. He hadn’t looked at it in hours.
He had a message from Niall and a message from an unknown number claiming to be Louis. His chest felt tight. The only thought he managed was that something was wrong with her; and that was the worst kind of thought.
Niall’s said: Harry...you have to talk to her. It’s bad.
Then a second message: Really bad.
He frowned feeling worry for the sweet girl. He almost called her instead of reading Louis’ message, but there was a knock at the door, changing his plan as he tried to gather his scattered thoughts. He tapped on the message from Louis. “I’ll answer it on my way out, have a good weekend, Harry!” Gemma called cheerfully. He didn’t even respond because he was busy reading.
Louis’ message was a long one: Hey Harry, it’s Louis. I stole your phone number from her back in August without her knowing. She would kill me for messaging you, but we’re on a plane and... well... she said she was feeling poor and headed to your house. But El and I just figured out WHY she’s poorly. She’s ignoring her phone, or something... Can you please tell her to call me? She probably won’t even tell you, so she won’t be a bother, and I can’t tell you through a text message... I’m sure she doesn’t want to interrupt our weekend either, but... please have her call me back. Or you can when you have her in a stable place... Thank you for taking care of her... I don’t think I’ve ever said that before to you... I don’t trust her with very many people. So, thank you for taking care of my best friend.
It took him a moment to pull himself from the message and that the other voice outside was the sweet girl speaking to Gemma at the door.
“Why are you apologizing? Is Harry expecting you?” Gemma asked gently.
“N-no...I... I didn’t mean to intrude, I’m so sorry,” she stammered, and Harry shook his head trying to reach the fact that she was there.
“Kitten?!” He shouted. By the time he raced to the door, she was nearing the car. He wondered when the driver got there briefly, but he was nearly sprinting, almost pushing Gemma to the ground, to make sure he got to the car before she did. As she pulled the door handle open sniffling as she desperately tried to leave, he smacked the door shut immediately. He would not let her leave.
Something was wrong with her arm because when he reached for it, she winced in pain and Harry thought he would murder someone if they hurt her. The messages from Niall and Louis scrolling through his mind. “Kitten, stop,” he whispered as she tried to reach for the car again. “Look at me please,” he begged. It had only been a day, but he was a lovesick man. He missed her face and he wanted to see the beautiful eyes he loved so much, the little windows to her soul. Even if he just saw them for a second. But she kept her eyes to the ground. Fortunately, at that moment, Gemma introduced herself.
That’s when Harry put it together that she thought Gemma was some other woman. He didn’t even find it funny, although he wished he could have. He felt so terrible she thought so little of how much she meant to Harry that he would find someone else in less than twenty-four hours.
Now, they were inside. “Where do y’want to sit?” He asked. “The sofa or the bed?”
“I don’t—”
“Love. Please, where will you be most comfortable?” He whispered gently.
“The sofa,” she answered.
He softly nudged her to the living area, taking her coat off before she sat and then he crouched to take her shoes off. Lightly, he pushed the sleeve of her blouse up because he didn’t forget, and he saw the nasty bruise on her arm that made his heart ache with anger. “What happened?” His voice was short. He thought of the messages both Niall and Louis sent him. “Louis texted me. Said you’re ignoring his calls.”
She shook her head. “I don’t even remember the last time I saw my phone.” He frowned. He was glad she was here. If he tried to call her and she didn’t answer, he would have gone mad with worry. She sniffled. “Harry,” she croaked.
“M’here, kitten,” he promised, and he pushed himself to kneel between her legs and he placed his hands on either side of her face. It felt like fire to touch her like this. He craved it so badly. Not having it at movie night and not seeing her until five minutes ago...and knowing she was hurt? His heart was broken. “Tell me, please,” he begged. “I’ll kill someone if I have to.”
She sighed. “You have to listen to everything before you say something or I won’t be able to finish it all,” she whispered.
“Sure love,” he nodded obediently.
“And you can’t kill or fire anyone.” He didn’t respond because he wasn’t sure he could make that promise to her. Especially if someone caused that bruise. He pressed his lips together, knelt between her legs and held her face to keep her gaze. “It’s not going to make sense, so much went wrong so fast,” she told him.
“I can keep up,” he promised. There was a moment of pause as she collected all her thoughts trying to figure out how to begin.
She began her story. “Someone stole my debit card, and I don’t... As a rule, I don’t use my credit card... at least not right now. I have too many bills and worries to be using it. I can’t wrack up any more debt... So, I basically have no access to my account or money for a week,” Harry took a hand from her face to reach into his pocket for his wallet. That was an easy fix, and he was sad it started off so easy because that meant it was going to get much worse.
She shook her head. “Niall already gave me his, because I needed it to get to the hospital,” she said, stilling his hand from opening his wallet. She gave his hand a squeeze at the sound of Niall’s name. But he didn’t feel jealous. He did in the moment seeing his best friend holding the object of all his affections so comfortingly in his arms. He didn’t know what was wrong and he was irrationally angry that Niall wouldn’t say—even when he didn’t know at the time either. He wanted to be the one comforting her. That was all.
“Hospital?” He questioned his eyes falling back to her arm.
“I’m jumping ahead. It wasn’t for me.”
He frowned. Putting the wallet on the coffee table he would thank Niall later for offering his help while Harry was being an idiot. “Go on,” he said, and he moved to sit beside her. He stretched his legs out on the chaise section and pulled her over his body, so her legs laid over his lap. This way he could see into her eyes and still touch her. He kept one of his hands wrapped up in hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
“I was going to try and figure out how to transfer some of my money on my laptop to a temporary gift card or something… and maybe work on my internship reflection for school but... my laptop wouldn’t turn on,” she mumbled. “And then at the same time it occurred to me I can’t even buy a laptop because I don’t have a debit card.”
“We can go buy you a new one tomorrow,” he promised.
“S’not the point,” she mumbled. “You’re not supposed to interrupt,” she reminded him.
He squeezed her hand. “M’sorry.”
“The woman from the meeting who thinks I’m stupid because I’m an intern,” she whispered the description. “Do you know who I’m talking about?” Harry nodded, curious as to how someone he only saw at meetings had anything to do with this story. Harry almost forgot about her. She was right. So much had happened in such a short amount of time, he hadn’t even had a chance to debrief with her the wonderful job she did in person and to tell her not to worry about the woman from the meeting.
“You’re not stup—”
She continued without letting Harry compliment her. “She told me that you wouldn’t sleep with me.”
Harry blinked rapidly a few times, shook his head trying to clear it. Surely, he missed something to get to this section of the story. “What? I’m sorry...what do you—”
She looked at their hands held together. “She came to my office, unprompted, while I was sad about my laptop, and she just said I was stupid and plain, and you wouldn’t sleep with me because I wasn’t your type. I’m not special or smart and just because I had one good idea and I work well with Niall didn’t mean you would want me... an intern.”
He had no idea the condition to hear her story was not firing an employee was for the benefit of some cruel woman who was just so wrong. He felt speechless because everything in those two sentences was wrong. She wasn’t plain, she was so goddamn beautiful she haunted his every thought. Add in the fact she was so brilliant and kind. Harry couldn’t get enough of her, and the idea of sleeping with her...
Again, he if it meant he could have her there in his life forever, he wouldn’t care about being intimate. But otherwise, he would kill to be so close to her. “Kitten,” he whispered.He was so mad. The rage in his chest was consuming. She would be fired. For one reason or another. Harry didn’t care what he had to do. He wouldn’t let anyone speak that way to another employee. But especially not the angel seated beside him.
“It gets worse,” she mumbled.
Harry closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and nodded. He didn’t know how that could be possible, but he supposed he would find out. “Please continue, then.”
“She knocked my coffee all over my desk,” she said. “And it got all over my skirt, my laptop, the floor, my desktop, and then...I went to clean it and I slipped and that’s how I got this bruise,” she gestured to her arm. Instinctively, Harry reached out and brushed his fingers over it. Not only did he want to fire her, but he also wanted to kill her. The poor girl knew exactly what Harry would do under the right circumstances and that was why she made restrictions on hearing the story as such. She was good, Harry would give her that.
“That’s when you came in,” she mumbled. “I was so sad and heartbroken I couldn’t speak to even tell you what was wrong, and I knew how sad and hurt you were that Niall was comforting me... but Harry, I would never do that to you, ever. Especially with your best friend. Regardless of this... relationship we have... I would never... it’s a—”
“I had no right to be that mad,” Harry mumbled quietly. He had long since forgiven her. She didn’t even need forgiveness because she didn’t do anything wrong.
“And then you cancelled movie night,” she whispered brokenly. Somehow this sounded like it hurt her worse than the bruise or that stupid woman’s comments. Harry’s frown deepened and he rubbed his hand on the back of his head awkwardly.
“I was so sad,” he told her. “I shouldn’t have—”
“It gets worse,” she repeated. He was hoping she was done. The idea it could get worse...
Harry wanted to take her heart out so he could sew all the holes that she was opening and then give it back to her. And Harry couldn’t even sew but whatever he did had to be better than whatever wounds laid in her heart. “I was a total zombie today at work. Niall was avoiding me per you, I think. He told me to go home after lunch so I could... I don’t know I think he just wanted me away from him.” Harry frowned. That was what Niall wanted. It was all Harry’s doing because he yelled at Niall and accused him of things he shouldn’t have as his best friend. “So I was walking home—”
“Walking?! It was freezing out, kitten.”
“Can you... this is the worst part...” He was silent. But in his head, he was arranging for a car to follow her for the rest of her life and would be training a driver to somehow coerce her into the car if she refused in sub-arctic temperatures. “My mom called,” she said. Harry’s heart stopped. “I went to the hospital.” His eyebrows quirked up and he pressed his lips together. After another brief moment of utter silence, “my dad died,” she whispered.
“Kitten,” he cooed. “Baby, m’so sorry.”
This had to be one of the worst days in recorded human history. No wonder Louis’ message was so long. He was probably freaking out. “I went to the hospital...my mom...she won’t forgive me and...” she took a deep breath. “I had nowhere else to go and I just wanted you and I don’t even know if that’s fair after all I’ve put you through over the last day. So, I came here. I’m sorry for wanting you, I don’t want to—”
“Kitten,” he reached for her face and pressed his thumb over her lips so she would stop speaking and stop breaking his heart. She was here. That meant the story was over. Thank God. “I want you here. Always,” he promised. “I want you.” The relief on her face was somehow one of the most heartbreaking expressions she wore throughout the duration of her story. Harry wanted to cry at the thought. He pulled her toward him, face pressed to his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her. One hand snaked up her back to hold the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair, and he kissed the space of her forehead just by her hairline before closing his eyes completely content having her there.
There were so many things that needed to be addressed. She needed to call Louis. Harry wanted to call Niall...he wanted to call that terrible woman and fire her over the phone but that would have to wait until Monday. Harry would see to it that something about the funeral be figured out. Maybe he would send one of his lawyers to deal with her mum. Her bank account, her laptop, even the driver he was seriously going to have follow her... all of it needed to be taken care of for Harry to feel like he was helping her and making her horrible thirty-some odd hours end.
But for the next five minutes he was going to hold her like it was his one and only job. “M’gonna make it all better, kitten,” he murmured brushing his lips over her forehead again. “Promise.”
I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)
You can read the rest of this series here: Traditional
I've heard lots that we're excited about this part, please keep that in mind as you read and try not to hate me by the end of it. Also, a huge reminder I don't know much about business terminology, concepts, or situations.
“Oh, love?” He said quickly right before she hung up.
“Yes?”
“I’m so proud of you,” he told her.
Can you bring this file in? FYI Harry’s mad. Don’t be alarmed.
:( be right in
She hated when Harry was mad. Nothing made her more nervous than when he was angry. She had only seen it a handful of times. Fortunately, it had never been directed at her. She was hoping to keep it that way. But moreover, she hadn’t been an immediate witness to his temper either. In the six months she had been at Styles Incorporated, she had only heard him yelling through Niall’s phone or from an office she passed. Unbeknownst to her, whenever he yelled or got frustrated, Niall did everything in his power to ensure she wouldn’t be around. He did it regularly because he knew his track record with the interns before. But now he did it because he was Harry’s best friend and as his best friend, he knew how much this girl meant to him, even if Harry wasn’t fully aware yet.
Of course, there was nothing to get mad about outside company walls. So, when he was angry, all she felt was worry and sadness. If Niall needed her help mid-meeting and he was mad, then it was dire.
Taking a deep breath, she glanced at the meeting title on Niall’s schedule one last time. The meeting was held for the last three hours of the workday with the anticipation of finding a solution within the first hour. But they hadn’t so it was now approaching hour two. She grabbed the appropriate folder making sure the name on the meeting in his schedule matched the folder in her hand. She had looked over that file with Niall not too long ago. Like an epiphany, she knew the reason for Harry’s anger. She wished she had told Niall this morning all the research she had been doing before he went about his own business. Or at least asked what his thoughts were on what she had done. Unfortunately, since landing in front of Harry and Niall this contract issue had been all-consuming and there hadn’t been much downtime for her to get a word in to either of them while at work. It was especially too late now. She had no idea what they had discussed up to this point. Grabbing the folder off Niall’s desk she hurried down the hall to the conference room. As she was told on her very first day, she knocked and entered. But her heart was beating out of her chest like she was in trouble. She entered in the middle of Harry’s rant, and she made eye contact immediately with Niall who sent her a quick wink to keep her calm. No one looked at her except for Niall. The idea of even glancing in Harry’s direction made her too nervous to do anything.
“— as I’m concerned we can stay here all night until we figure out a plan!”
The venom in his voice made her uneasy. She was so shocked that the man that previously rubbed petroleum jelly all over her body and kissed her like she was made of porcelain could produce such a sharp tone that it made her almost visibly cringe. There were at least fifteen people seated around the large table. No one looked at Harry. They all typed rapidly on their laptops looking for solutions.
“If someone doesn’t come up with something in the next five minutes, I’m going to start firing someone every 10 minutes until the end of the day,” he growled out.
Naturally, Niall was seated beside Harry at the farthest end of the table from the door. He was the only one who looked calm. She didn’t know how he could sit right next to him so unaffected. Must have been nice to be his best friend. She walked slowly. As if she walked that slowly, Harry might not see her. She didn’t want him to see her. She was worried he would get mad at her reflexively. Which didn’t make any sense because it didn’t involve her at all. But it didn’t matter. His anger made her sad solely because she cared so much about him—whether he knew it or not.
“What if we ask one of them to le—”
Harry turned his head like he was in a horror movie and just possessed by a demon. He spoke toward the person about to say (arguably, even from her perspective as a lowly intern) the dumbest thing she could have ever imagined someone saying at this moment in time. “You’re not about to recommend that one of our biggest clients leaves?” He snapped bitterly. She flinched almost imperceptibly at his tone. “What the fuck am I paying the lot of you?” He grumbled under his breath.
Everyone was avoiding eye contact with everyone else, not just Harry. “Does anyone have a semi-intelligent idea, or should I start firing people?” She couldn’t believe how harsh he was. But that’s why he was the boss, and she was just an intern. “Someone better say something useful in the next fifteen second or everyone—”
At the same time Harry spoke, she handed the file off to Niall. The silence was approaching near deafening. “Thank you, darling,” he whispered.
Without her realizing, her anxiety of Harry’s anger proved to be too much for her. The need to find a solution, offer a solution bubbled out of her mouth without her brain’s consent, she spoke just as Harry was about to fire the whole group. She wanted it to be whispered to Niall but her brain, as always, was so wrapped up in Harry that her mouth bypassed all rational thought. It took her a moment to notice it was her own voice speaking. “Why don’t you just have them partner together so it’s a mutual agreement between them?”
The moment the words left her lips, she slapped her hand over her mouth with an audible smack. She closed her eyes and refused to make eye contact with anyone. “I... am... so sorry,” she glanced finally at Niall. His eyebrows were raised in surprise, lips parted in shock. Like he was just as frozen in disbelief as she was. The outstretched folder in his hands hadn’t even fully made it into his possession yet. If she thought the room was silent before, nothing compared to the ear-piercing quietness now. After another moment suspended in a long pause, Niall turned to Harry.
“That’s not a bad idea,” he mumbled. Harry appeared shocked by her outburst as well. In fact, for the first time all day it seemed, he was speechless. His eyes were scanning her like he had only just noticed she was there. Maybe she was lucky, and walking slowly did make her invisible.
“Go on,” Harry said. She could tell he was still wildly irritated, but he bit back his frustration once he realized it was her. That made her nervous in itself; she hoped no one paid any mind to how he lessened his tone. She swallowed the lump in her throat.
“I-I don’t—” She shook her head.
“No, go ahead,” Niall said encouragingly and rubbed his forehead at the same time, so he was covered when he winked at her without anyone else at the table seeing behind his hand.
“Uh...if...you partner them before you ask for what you want out of a merger...then it avoids a conflict of interest,” her voice wasn’t unsure, per se. She was confident she was correct. But she was terrified of Harry. Well...not...her Harry. Not that he was hers...but the version of him that cared for her in some capacity. He would never make her feel stupid or question her.
“Oh, we can’t seriously be taking an intern’s advice,” a woman at the other end of the table said. She glanced at her and could feel her own face warming in embarrassment that she was so thoughtless to say anything.
Harry’s head snapped toward the woman at the other end. Since she specifically did work for Niall, she knew nearly no one other than Harry and a few people from IT and HR. She didn’t even know the name of the woman that somehow took offense to her idea. “I’m sorry, did you have an idea?”
“There’s no way she knows what we’re talking about. She’s not even supposed to be here. This meeting is confidential.”
“Love, d’you have anything to attend to, or can y’stay for the last bit of this?” Harry asked.
“Oh, I don’t have to stay,” she shook her head quickly. Trying to keep Harry, Niall, (and now) this woman happy was her first priority...even if she hated the woman at the other end of the table. The last thing she wanted was for someone to notice Harry treated her differently. “I was going to tell Mr. Horan abou—”
“Niall, is she busy or can she spare a few minutes to stay and chat?” Harry asked, interrupting her.
“Mr. Styles, this meeting is confidential!” She would really like to know what she did to piss this woman off.
“Does anyone have a better idea?” Harry asked. It was silent.
“You should stay, darling,” Niall smiled gently as he murmured the words to her. He stood quickly and gestured for her to sit. He leaned against the windowsill, perched the folder on his lap and flipped through the first couple pages scanning for information.
No one answered Harry’s question. Specifically, the woman at the other end who was glaring at the now empty seat beside Harry. “Then, please sit,” Harry said quietly. But it was really an order. So, she sat uncomfortably. She never left her office without a pen behind her ear, which she was more grateful for than ever. Taking the writing utensil from her ear, she pulled it into her lap and fiddled with the cap opening and closing it quietly so she wouldn’t let it click but still allowed her to fidget awkwardly.
“Please continue,” Niall said from his spot by the window. Harry started pacing the length of the wall across from the window. Near the door to the hall.
She cleared her throat. She wanted to sound confident. Part of her wished she wrote it down. “Well, Mr. Horan had mentioned the dilemma...so I researched some similar cases,” she explained.
She spoke for a couple minutes. People were listening to her intently. She even surprised herself, but she thought of the research she had been doing when Niall mentioned the stressfulness of the most recent contracts and why this one of all things was going to be dire if they didn’t come up with a solution. All she wanted was to help; specifically, she wanted to help Niall the most (ergo Harry as well). Plus, she liked research. A few people had minor questions, curious as to what cases she looked up or how she even knew in the first place of where to look. “Well... one of my professors was big on conflict of interest, so I emailed him to ask.”
Niall and Harry made eye contact from their respective corners of the room. She was too nervous to look at either of them to notice the look that passed between them.
After speaking for so long, she finished her little monologue with a summary. “If my understanding and research is correct, this is definitely more of a legal process and problem we would—excuse me, you would have to go through. What I found, however, if you have the two clients for a partnership on this project, then you no longer have a conflict of interest. You do have to fill out a disclosure form and—”
“And lose a ton of money,” the woman at the other end grumbled. “Why are we even considering this?”
Harry didn’t speak. He was still pacing. He had had his hands clasped in front of his face; his index fingers pressed against his lips. Her heart was racing. Niall put the folder in front of her. On the very top paper Niall had written on a sticky note: you’re doing great :)
She took a deep breath. “Yes, there would be a pretty significant loss...but as far as I can tell by my research, the only other option is to lose one or both of the clients. Which I think would be arguably detrimental,” she concluded and pressed her lips together. She bit the inside of her bottom lip to keep her from saying anything else.
Harry spun on his heel at the sound of her accurate conclusion. For one miniscule moment he held her gaze. It was so brief if she wasn’t so in love with him, so attuned to catching where his eyes were looking, she might not have noticed. “Do you all recognize how this was an actual helpful contribution to our situation?” He asked rhetorically once more.
“Losing money is helpful?” Who spit in her coffee that she had such an attitude? And why was it directed at her idea? Did she not know that a business like this was a group effort? Her heart was hammering against her chest so fast; the idea that someone thought she was stupid made her feel so embarrassed.
“Losing the least amount of money is helpful,” Niall remarked casually looking up from his folder.
“Thank you,” Harry said, and it was a surprised sounding thank you. One that she hadn’t ever really gotten from him. Most of his thank yous oozed with kindness. This one was flat. Like he was trying to not show how truly thankful he was for her.
“Get up,” Niall whispered quickly as he leaned toward her to grab a document out of the folder. He didn’t mean it maliciously and she could tell that. In fact, she was quite grateful he told her what to do because she wanted to run out of there. She would have thrown herself out the window to escape if that meant she could get away from the awkwardness of Harry’s anger and that woman’s anger. She stood and Niall put the piece of paper in front of his mouth and directed his speech against it so it would go toward her ear. “Go get the disclosure form, check your phone. Great job,” his voice was so low, but she didn’t miss how the seriousness emphasized how proud he really was.
She exited around the opposite side of the table as Harry made his way back to his original seat. She left the room and breathed a sigh of relief getting out of there. She could already hear Harry chattering away on the other side. Almost immediately her phone vibrated in her pocket. It was Niall.
HOLY SHIT.
Oh my God...
Oh. My. GOD.
Good or bad?
I’m freaking out!
GOOD. I’M SO PROUD. Bring the form back in, you don’t have to stay, knock and give it to Harry.
Do you want me to fill it out?
Darling, if you fill it out, Harry might not be the only one who falls in love with you.
*
She was practically bouncing in her apartment when she got home. She felt so light, so excited to contribute something of worth to Harry’s company. She cleaned and danced around the whole place feeling like she could truly do anything. Once cleaned, she pulled the laundry from the dryer, and she was bouncing to the music in her headphones while she waited for her leftovers to reheat in the microwave. She was going to fold laundry and snuggle up with a good book after eating and having one of the best days of her professional life thus far.
She emailed her professor back and thanked him for the help, told him how grateful she was, and the advice was so helpful that she really thought she might get a job at the end of the year.
I had a GREAT day! She texted Louis and Eleanor.
Oh yeah? Did Harry finally fuck you?
Louis, can you just...? Eleanor sent an eye roll emoji to their chat. She giggled. Not even Louis being cheeky could embarrass her right now. What happened, love?
So, she sent a few voice messages and told them all about the woman that seemed to hate her for no reason. All about how Niall was impressed. Her professor was impressed. Maybe most importantly, Harry was impressed.
Of course, she hates you. Harry values you and your opinion. She’s JEALOUS. She didn’t want to believe Louis. The idea that anyone would be jealous of her was laughable. But it created a pang in her chest because there was just no way that anyone would ever think Harry would willingly be with her in that way. That he would see her in the light that could possibly make people jealous.
Don’t forget we’re proud of you too, love :) Eleanor replied.
Her phone rang at that moment with Louis at the other end. “Hey,” he said softly.
“Hi, are you alright?” She asked curiously hearing the gentle tone. It was very unlike Louis to sound so quiet. Her eyebrows furrowed together as she listened alertly for signs of trouble.
He chuckled. “Yes, babe. Promise.”
She pressed the phone to her ear with her shoulder as she folded her laundry. “Then—”
“I’m so proud of you,” he whispered. She stopped folding. Her heart fluttered and she rolled her lips into her mouth. Louis wasn’t one for long loving speeches. She only ever heard his big speeches all of three times. Once when her brother died and he spoke at the funeral, the next when he found out how she had been living for the two years since his passing with her parents, and finally when he told Eleanor how much he loved her and wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, and she snapped pictures of him sliding a ring into place.
This, apparently, was going to be the fourth time. “I didn’t video you, because I know you’re probably fighting back tears already, so I just want to say this and then I’m going to hang up immediately because if I even hear a sniffle I’m going to run over there, and you know how I hate running.”
She smiled because if she laughed or breathed, she would have started to cry.
“Your brother would be unbelievably proud of you. Actually, I know he’s proud of you. Prouder than anyone—prouder than Eleanor, me, Harry, Niall, your professor...everyone. You are incredible. Your parents have no idea who they’re missing, and your brother is...wow,” he said simply in awe. She let the tears silently flow and she nodded, trying not to breathe into the phone because she didn’t want to bother Louis by making him run. Her heart ached so badly. Nothing was fair about this moment. Her brother should have been there. But she loved Louis so much for being there for her, for cheering for her when no one else did. “Okay, I’m gonna go now so you can cry in peace. I love you, babe, always and always.”
“Me too!” She heard Eleanor from the back.
“Talk soon,” he said sweetly, and the call ended.
She released a noisy sob and brushed the tears away. Unfortunately, she didn’t cry in peace for longer than thirty seconds. Niall was calling her before she could catch her breath. “Hello—?”
“I’m so sorry to bother you darling, I know you probably just got settled at home, but I was just wondering if you could send Harry and I the artic—are you crying?” He asked. She accidentally let her sniffles get the best of her as she tried to calm herself while he spoke. She even turned the speaker away from her mouth to hide it as best she could so that he wouldn’t hear. It clearly didn’t work. “Darling, are you—?”
“What’s wrong?” Harry was at the other end. “Love, are you okay?” The worry in Harry’s voice melted her already breaking heart. She sniffled again trying to regain her breathing so she could respond but all the words were choked off. “Kitten, please,” he begged anxiety so evident in his voice she could almost taste it.
“I-I’m fine,” she whispered sniveling like a child. “I’m—"
“No, you’re not,” he sounded like he was shaking his head and trying to convince her that she wasn’t okay. “Love, do y’need help? Are y’hurt?” She imagined him pacing Niall’s office. Squeezing his phone and in the right circumstance she believed Harry was strong enough to bend the metal frame.
“No!” she said hurriedly before Harry had paramedics breaking down her door. Or more than likely, before he broke down her door himself. “I’m okay,” but she was hiccupping on her uneasy breaths so much she couldn’t get all the words out fast enough, in one breath, to assuage his worry.
“Kitten, I don’t—”
“It’s just...my brother,” she croaked and let the tears of sadness but overwhelming kindness from her best friend flow some more. The last thing she wanted to do was worry Harry. She squeezed her eyes shut trying to force the tears to stop and she pressed her hand over her mouth so hard as she (very unattractively, in hindsight) snorted around a sob.
“Oh,” Harry almost sounded relieved. She nearly heard the sigh of relief deflating his tense shoulders. He figured she wasn’t hurt and that made all the difference to him. “Oh, m’so sorry, love,” he whispered. “M’glad you’re alright. Can y’jus’ call us back when y’feel up to it in a bit? Take your time, really s’not imp—”
“No, no,” she took a deep shaky breath. “No, I’m alright,” she sounded a little more confident.
“Love...” he cooed again almost disapprovingly. “S’okay. It doesn’t—”
“No, it’s alright,” she sniffled. “What do you need?” She asked.
Harry sighed. “The articles or the cases y’found. Our lawyers wanted—”
“Sure, sure. One second, I should—” she hiccupped on her own breath again but continued as if she didn’t interrupt herself, “—have sent them after the meeting.”
“It’s alright, y’didn’t know,” he answered softly. She hurried to her bag by the door with her laptop inside. Grabbing it she made her way to the kitchen counter and flipped it open. She liked listening to the way he sounded on the phone. His breath was comforting. It occurred to her she had never spoken to him on the phone since that first day at Styles Incorporated.
They were both silent while she booted up her laptop, save for the occasional sniffle. “One second.”
“Take your time,” he repeated. She released a shivering breath and Harry sighed like he was in pain. He didn’t think she lied to him on any kind of regular basis, but he thought she might if she was worried, she would upset him. So, while he hated the idea of her mourning someone so close to her—especially when the consequences were obviously much worse than he would ever know based on her brief retelling of the situation—and he couldn’t necessarily make it better, he was grateful she wasn’t hurt by someone else.
“Okay,” she gasped again trying to regulate her breathing. “Sorry,” she said awkwardly. “I’m forwarding you the email—” shaky breath, “—I sent my professor and his responses so you can see the progression of our talk,” punctuated sniffle, “so you know why I have these certain cases.”
“Thank you, kitten,” he murmured quietly. His heart broke a bit more hearing each hitch in her voice as she spoke. “Have a great night.”
“You too,” she responded quietly.
“Oh, love?” He said quickly right before she hung up.
“Yes?” She sniffled.
“Thank you for the meeting today. Y’did a great job. I’m...” he chuckled. “I’m so proud of you,” he told her. “I couldn’t say it in the meeting, of course... But m’really, really proud of you. I don’t think s’an exaggeration t’say y’saved a huge piece of the company. It was very impressive.”
Her heart felt like it was breaking all over again. “Thank you.”
“Sleep well, love,” once he hung up, she finally released all the cathartic cries and tears she bottled up since Louis spoke to her.
*
As good as her day was after the meeting—where she felt she actually, confidently did well—the following day was equally (if not worse to the same degree) terrible.
It started off okay. She was still riding her good day high from yesterday all morning. Niall was out of the office on many meetings and calls thanks to her. All of which he was grateful they were even happening, and he periodically sent her messages saying he was really looking forward to his afternoon coffee because he had been so busy, and it was all thanks to her. Since Harry stole the phone from him the night before he still hadn’t gotten a chance to congratulate her in person on one of the most amazing meetings he had ever been to.
She always looked forward to coffee. Mostly because she would catch a glimpse of Harry when she delivered his tea to him and after having such a good day yesterday, and impressing him at that, she was really looking forward to seeing him for a minute. Especially before their movie night tonight.
However, returning with their afternoon coffee was exactly when her day turned sour. Her coffee didn’t taste very good. It was minor, but it dampened the thrill of getting Starbucks.
Additionally, her bank sent her a message asking if she had purchased $200 worth of merchandise overseas. “Oh, fuck,” she hissed as she set the tray of drinks on her desk while she replied to the message. So now she had no debit card for a week and she wasn't big on using her credit card if she could help it. So much so that she left it at home unless she was traveling.
But those were still minor inconveniences in comparison to the remainder of her afternoon. She delivered her tea to Harry’s office as she always did at the same time and frowned as he wasn’t there. Not wanting to look like a psycho stalker, she exited his office quickly, leaving the tea on his desk and made her way back to her office.
She never really brought it up around Harry and Niall, but as part of her university’s end of the deal at this internship, she had to write reflections periodically about her time at Styles Incorporated. Therefore, when she didn’t have anything pressing on her plate from Niall, she would write a few sentences here and there on her personal laptop.
But her laptop didn’t turn on.
“Okay...” she sighed rubbing her hand on her forehead as she planned her next steps to buy a new laptop...without debit card access to her account.
“He won’t sleep with you.”
Her head snapped up to the sound of the woman that clearly disliked her from yesterday. She still didn’t know her name. “Pardon?” She shook her head in surprise.
“Harry,” she stated rolling her eyes. She stood in her doorway of the small little office inspecting it with distaste. It was small but perfect in her eyes. To this woman however, it was a garbage can. Her nose practically upturned as if it had the same stench as trash. “He won’t sleep with you,” she repeated.
She blinked as if she had misheard her. “Wh-what?”
“The whole innocent-look on you is overdone and tiring,” she said. “Harry doesn’t sleep with people that work for him. Especially the interns.”
Her lips parted in shock. “I don’t—”
“Everyone wants to sleep with him,” she rolled her eyes. It sounded like she tried and failed. “Don’t think just because you’re all buddy buddy with his best friend and second in command that you’re special. There have been plenty of interns before you and there will be plenty after. You’re not special. Harry doesn’t fuck plain girls.”
Her heart shattered and she felt her face warm in complete embarrassment, but she couldn’t move or speak.
While she trusted Harry way more than she trusted this woman who obviously had it out for her, it was her worst fears said out loud. She knew she was plain. She knew that people like Harry didn’t go for girls like her—especially when he had done this before, and she was already so insecure about how she looked and how their companionship worked. “Just because you had one good idea doesn’t make you special or smarter than the rest of us,” she repeated.
She wasn’t special. She heard it loud and clear over and over.
“I’m sorry,” she said because what else was she supposed to say?
“Pathetic,” she snorted, rolled her eyes, and like a movie, she bumped into her desk and spilled her coffee clean across her already broken laptop, all over her desk, and spilled some onto her skirt. Perhaps the only highlight of the day was that her skirt was plain black, and the coffee tasted bad. So, it wouldn’t stain obviously for everyone else to see with the remainder of the workday...and it wasn’t a waste of coffee. She gasped at the coldness, but she supposed it was better than hot coffee. Make that the third highlight. The coffee spilled from her desk to the floor, and she glanced back up and the woman was gone.
She got up in hurry to head to the breakroom, get paper towels and try to calm herself. But of course, she slipped a bit on the spilled coffee whacking her arm so hard on her desk she was sure it would bruise. That was the last straw.
She sat in a heap on the floor for a moment trying to process the last hour of work and how good yesterday was compared to how horrible right now was. “Hey darling, how’s my schedule look this afternoon?” Niall called breezing by her little space, and she didn’t even realize she was crying and still sitting next to a dripping puddle of coffee when Niall turned back from his desk and coffee to see her sitting there. “Darling, you okay?” He asked nervously. She stood and sniffled shaking her head. Smoothed her soaked skirt and pretended like she was fine not looking toward Niall.
“Yeah,” she sniffed awkwardly. “Spilled my coffee.” She was no snitch.
“Oh, jeez. Sorry, darling. I’ll go get you some paper towels—”
“No, s’fine. My mess,” she mumbled, and she tried to use the mouse for the desktop but since coffee covered the length of her desk it wouldn’t move fast enough for her to click through. “Uh...” she shook her head. “I’m sorry...” she croaked. “My computer—”
“Hey,” Niall said gently, and his voice was closer. He was right behind her. “S’alright, don’t... Hey,” he said grabbing her wrist as she tried to figure it out, tried to find a solution like she always did. “Darling,” he cooed.
It broke her. It was too much, so much of the day went wrong so quickly it threw her. Niall’s quiet voice was kindly soothing, and it was all she could take in that moment. “I’m sorry,” she whimpered.
“Oh, hey,” he sighed and turned her around and wrapped his arms around her comfortingly. She accepted it because she felt like if she didn’t her body would give out. She pressed her hands over her eyes as he held her and gently rocked. He didn’t pay any mind to the coffee that was probably getting on him yet again because of her. Her arm ached and she just wanted to go home so bad. “Shh, it’s okay,” he promised, and she shook her head. “Hey, what happened, love?” He asked gripping her shoulders and pushing her back a bit so he could try and look into her eyes. She shook her head.
“S’nothing.”
“Darling, it doesn’t look like nothing—”
She sniffled more and kept the part of her face covered. “It’s so stupid,” she hiccupped feeling like an idiot for crying in front of her boss.
“I’m sure it’s not,” he said encouragingly and pulled her back to his chest so he could let her cry. And she did for a good minute feeling the slightest bit relief.
But then naturally her day got even worse.
“Niall, I thought you—” instinctively, she ripped away from Niall her face warming as Harry saw how cozy Niall got holding her. Comforting her. She dared a glance at Harry.
For the first time in six months, he looked mad at her. “Sorry,” she whispered to Niall...or Harry. She was sorry regardless. There was nothing to apologize for, but she remembered when Harry saw Niall squeeze her arm. This was a thousand times worse.
“Yeah, sorry,” Niall shrugged. “We—”
“What’s wrong?” Harry wondered but his voice was tight. The air was so tense it felt like she couldn’t breathe. He wanted to be worried. She could feel it. Him asking was a chance to clear up the comforting. She should have just said it. But there was jealousy and sadness blocking his concern for her. It made her so anxious she felt tongue tied.
“She—”
“Let her talk,” Harry snapped. Niall may have been his best friend but that meant he knew when to speak and when to stay silent.
“It’s nothing,” she whispered.
“It doesn’t look like nothing,” he ground out.
“Harry, stop,” Niall said immediately coming to her defense.
“Then tell me what’s wrong,” she didn’t look up, so she didn’t know Harry was staring at her. Waiting for her response. It never came. Her lower lip wobbled, and she glanced at Harry momentarily. Long enough to see how angry he was.
But she didn’t miss the hurt hiding in his beautiful, sad green eyes. “I’m fine, it’s nothing.”
“Your turn,” he spat at Niall. Harry wasn’t thinking rationally because all he saw was the sweet girl sobbing into the arms of his best friend. He was upset about the company stuff, even with her brilliant idea it was still nerve wracking to have so much of what he spent most of his 20s on, in such a fragile state. Topped with the girl that clouded all his dreams upset and crying to Niall...all his irrational brain could think was that they fell in love working in such close proximity to one another. Plus, Niall was often more even-tempered and nicer than Harry was on a regular basis.
He scoffed at Harry. “Harry, no way,” Niall shook his head. “You know—”
“Apparently, I don’t know fucking anything,” he snarled. She visibly flinched at his tone. She shook her head, but Niall beat her to the punch. Besides, she couldn’t defend herself even if she tried to talk because it would be lost on broken sobs.
“Jesus Christ, Harry, don’t be a dick,” Niall rolled his eyes. Obviously if it was anyone but Niall he would have been fired on the spot. But as his best friend he supposed he had perks. “She was crying when I got here. She won’t even tell me what’s—”
He didn’t even let Niall finish. “My office,” he snapped and stormed out of the room.
She had a whole new set of tears flowing and she covered her face again. “Darling, don’t,” Niall rolled his eyes and gave her shoulder a squeeze. “He’s...he’s just the jealous type,” he whispered. “He’ll cool off. “Don’t stress,” he promised and headed out the door.
Once he left, she let herself have a small pity party while the coffee continued to pool on her desk and floor. Eventually, eyes cast toward the floor, she grabbed paper towels and started cleaning. On her hands and knees, she sniffled and wiped up the mess under her desk and she heard her phone vibrate from on top of her desk. It was Harry. Her heart rate increased rapidly, and her hands shook as she opened the message.
Don’t come over tonight.
Her heart broke.
*
Niall was unapologetically kind to her as the bad Thursday turned into a bad Friday. If wearing a skirt that didn’t stain was the highlight of her day yesterday, today it was Niall kindly asking nothing of her and reassuring her every time she forgot some simple tasks was today’s highlight. She blamed Harry entirely for her restless sleep. Makeup could only do so much to hide the dark circles and bags that accumulated beneath her tear-reddened lash line.
Niall closed her office door to block out the hall and everyone from the rest of the floor. “You okay, darling?”
“He hates me,” she whispered.
“He is an idiot,” he said seriously. “You shouldn’t even forgive him.” She appreciated Niall’s effort, but it was lost on her with how sad she was. It felt like they were breaking up and they weren’t even together. “Can you tell me what happened? I can help,” he promised.
She shook her head. “Nothing,” she mumbled.
She should have just told him about the stupid, mean woman from the meeting. Niall would have probably marched right to Harry’s office requesting authority to fire her. Which was exactly what she didn’t want. He sighed sadly. “Alright, well...m’gonna just give you some space. Don’t worry about anything. Just take it easy...or go home early.”
She nodded. “Maybe after coffee,” she mumbled.
“Sure, darling. Whatever you want. You’ve earned it. Whatever it is.”
Niall grabbed his laptop, his bag, everything like he wouldn’t be back either. “Niall,” she whispered.
“Yes, darling?” He still gave her space not looking even though he wanted to assure her that everything was fine.
“He’s gonna fire me,” she sniffled.
Niall shook his head. “Absolutely not. I’d quit.”
She snorted a breath of laughter. It wasn’t much, but it was something. “Go home and sleep, love. That’s official intern work,” he said.
She nodded. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t you dare apologize for his idiocy,” he shook his head. “Don’t give him all this credit. You have made his life so much better and if he wants to be mad then he should know of all people it shouldn’t be directed at you.”
She felt her lips tremble with a bout of fresh tears ready to spill. “Thank you.”
“Anytime, darling. I hope you tell me soon so I can help.”
She nodded but said nothing.
*
She texted Niall that she left his coffee and Harry’s tea on his desk. Then she messaged Louis and Eleanor.
Are you guys around? I’m heading home early.
It’s anniversary weekend, babe!
Shit.
Oh fuck, I am so sorry. Of course. I’m just feeling a little cloudy. Heading home. Have a great time. I love you both so much :)
She was impressed with her hiding skills. Thankfully, texting was a lot easier to hide her emotions. She walked home from the office. It was over two miles, but it would be cleansing, and she could always call for an uber if she got tired.
Maybe go to Harry’s if you’re feeling poorly, Louis suggested. She closed her eyes and sighed, wishing she could.
Yeah, good idea!
She assumed Louis would see right through that given she hadn’t once thought to purposefully bother Harry once in six months. So, she assumed the call that vibrated in her hand was Louis.
“Listen, I’m really—”
“Who the fuck answers a phone like that?”
No, no, no. NO. Her stomach dropped to her feet, and she froze mid step. The person walking behind her bumped into her, but she stood stalk still as the voice at the other end of the line processed through her ear drum. Her jaw dropped open, it felt like it would unhinge from the shock.
This could not be the same terrible day. What came after terrible? That was the word she needed right now to describe the last twenty four hours.
“Mom,” she breathed.
“Your father is dying,” she stated. “Not sure if you care. But thought you’d want to know in case you wanted to cash in on your inheritance,” she snipped. Her words were clipped, clear. Not slurred or confused at all. She wondered if it was hurting her to not have alcohol in her system. She heard the distinct sound of hospital beeps in the background.
It felt like someone was ripping her heart directly from her chest. “I’m sorry, what?” She whispered.
“For the love of God,” she hissed. “Your father is dying. Say goodbye if you want.”
The call ended.
Her hands were shaking. She somehow managed to put the phone in her bag. She was suddenly extremely aware of how cold it was. Or maybe it was the feeling in her chest.
She turned on her heel and headed back for the building. Work was the only thing that was going to occupy her mind but really, she just wanted to see someone who cared for her at that moment. For the first time in six months, she came to the sobering conclusion that she was really alone. There was no one to help her because there was no one that cared for her in that way anymore. Anyone currently in her life would find her bothersome and she couldn’t do that to them.
She couldn’t. She couldn’t see anyone. Niall was giving her space—and in turn appeasing Harry. Regardless of how much he liked her, he was still her boss. She couldn’t expect his comfort. Her brother was dead, and her dad was soon to be. Even if he wasn’t, her dad and mom hated her since her brother died. Louis and Eleanor were her best friends, but they had lives to live; she couldn’t bother them on their anniversary while they were out of town.
You can read the rest of this series here: Traditional
Thank you all so much for your continued support on this one. I hope you enjoy <3 Final WC: ~10K
Harry wanted nothing more than to protect her with everything in him and he didn’t care if he ever slept with her for as long as he lived. He would be celibate if it meant she would be in his life as a companion, a girlfriend--hell, he would have let Niall marry her if it meant she would be around (no he wouldn’t, but it was the premise of the thought).
It had been two months since her weekend at Harry’s. In that time, she had been much more careful as she came around corners holding hot beverages. If Harry asked her why, she said it was to be more mindful of injuring herself. If someone else asked her, though, it was to ensure that Harry wouldn’t threaten to fire anyone for accidentally hurting her. (After several kisses, she managed to convince Harry to let the poor guy keep his job. But if you asked Harry, he would have agreed after one kiss; he tended to be a bit greedy when it came to her.)
“Thanks, darling,” Niall said without looking up from his laptop as she entered the main part of his office. He was gazing at his computer screen intensely with a frown on his face. She left his drink behind the computer so he wouldn’t knock it onto his keyboard. “Can you take a look at this for me before you go deliver Harry’s tea?” His eyes didn’t move from the screen as he spoke, so he didn’t see the way her cheeks turned slightly pink because he knew she’d be headed there next.
Since he found out, Niall never made any comment about her relationship with Harry that existed outside company walls. He would casually ask how she enjoyed a restaurant Harry took her to, but she could tell it didn’t have anything to do with Harry when he asked. It was solely about the food or the atmosphere. She was extremely lucky to have a boss like Niall.
Making her way around his desk, she hovered to the side of his chair, and he pointed at the screen. “That math adds up, yeah?” He asked.
She bent a little and squinted to get a better look at the rows and rows of numbers. It looked like gibberish, and she hardly knew where the numbers came from or what they meant, but she knew how to do math with them. Rounding up the ones in questions for ease and glancing at the column headings to make sure she did the correct basic calculations, she nodded. “Uh...yes, that’s right.”
He frowned. “Harry’s not gonna like that,” he muttered. “I’ve put the numbers in four times and checked the formulas...I don’t get it...it doesn’t seem...that bad. Does it? We can’t be that far down...” he murmured more to himself than to her.
She pursed her lips and looked at the large negative number he was referring to again. He was right, it did seem off. “May I?” She asked. He nodded, rolling back in his chair so she could see the screen and access the keyboard more effectively. She clicked through several of the cells in question. It seemed like he did everything right. “Hmm,” she hummed pursing her lips in confusion. She ran through the cell formulas again. And then again. After the third time, she caught it. “Oh!” She said excitedly.
“Hallelujah,” Niall sighed with relief. “Thought we were gonna have to tell Harry we would have to make some serious cuts...what happened?”
“You swapped the cells in the original formula. Like the order of E12 and F12. It probably just looked right going over it,” she said and adjusted them. Two key taps and a click and the numbers were reformulated, and the previously sad, negative number changed to a comically large positive.
“It’s atrocious you have to finish out this internship,” he shook his head. “I was about nearly ready to give Harry a heart attack without the help of your eyes,” he said. It wasn’t the first time he had done this. Niall admitted to getting frustrated with spreadsheets on more than one occasion. He was much more apt to deal with clients. She liked taking messages when people called his office and enjoyed anticipating what documents or numbers he needed when he spoke with them on the phone within her earshot. It was one of Niall’s favorite things to receive an email with the documents he needed mid conversation from the perfect girl. But she felt out of her element listening to the way he effortlessly chatted with multi-millionaires and would much rather hide behind the math and spreadsheets.
She giggled and shrugged. “Happy to help.” He looked so much more relaxed about the math now, he reached for his coffee and looked at the tea and her own drink with a smirk.
“Harry’s really going to fire me and just have you take my spot.”
“I wouldn’t let him,” she promised with an eye roll. “I wouldn’t tell him either.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I will definitely be telling him how you saved my arse...are you heading down there now?”
She nodded. “Unless you need something.”
“All set, darling. Thank you...you’re...” he took a deep breath and she looked at him, head tilted curiously. “I think you’re really good for Harry,” he was practically whispering. Like someone would hear. Her face must have turned bright red. “Darling, please. I’m not saying it as your boss or as an employee… Harry is…he’s much more himself around you. He hasn’t been like this in years. I’m saying this as his best friend,” he smirked. “I won’t say it again. I promise. I just like you for him. That’s all.”
She looked at the two drinks in hand and she nodded slowly, awkwardly. “Well thank you. I don’t…really think it will last forever unfortunately…” she admitted.
Niall snorted. “Oh, darling. For someone who is reliably right…you are so wrong about this.”
*
She tried not to think about what Niall said. If she thought about it, she was sure to trip and fall and Lord knows she could not explain a second weekend at Harry’s to anyone for the same coffee burn.
As she headed to his office, she admired her handiwork of the month. The halls of the floor were decorated with Christmas tinsel and lights. It was her idea, of course. The fake snow, the ribbons, the tree in the break room. All done by the little elf she was in addition to being a lovely intern—saving Niall from math and Harry from heart attacks.
She smirked at the décor, happy about her contribution. She remembered the look on his face when she asked Niall if she could decorate everything on her own time. Niall said he would ask Harry and while Harry thought it was a bizarre request, he told Niall sure. Then out she went and came back with a literal sack of decorations, beyond excited to turn the floor into a wonderland, like Santa himself.
Harry didn’t know it was her doing until he saw her outside Niall’s office at nearly eight at night when everyone, except for the maintainers, had left for the day. The late stayers were long gone. Even Niall had called it quits. She was standing on her chair she had dragged from her office into the hall. “Y’shouldn’t stand on a chair like that in heels, love.”
Her answering smile was stunning. Harry strongly considered ruining their cover, running over to her, grabbing her off the chair, and kissing her—even if no one was there to see. But they had a strong “nothing at work” rule and Harry wouldn’t break her trust for even a kiss he desperately wanted. Without breaking her stride in hanging her tinsel, she kicked her heels off, so they clattered to the floor. The décor was outside her scheduled time, but she figured she had an in with the boss. “Cheeky,” he rolled his eyes. “Don’t get hurt.”
“This is not my first rodeo. You haven’t seen my place yet,” she said excitedly.
He liked the idea of “yet” when it came to seeing her in any fashion. “Oh? I thought this was Niall asking for Christmas spirit?”
“On my behalf.”
“Y’didn’t want t’ask me?” He wondered curiously. She leaned a little too far over to one side of the chair for Harry’s liking and he hurried to her side to hold the chair in place because if she toppled over he would do anything to save her from getting hurt again—even as mundane as Christmas decorating.
“I like to have a semblance of the hierarchy at work.”
He chuckled under his breath and continued watching her. When she finished, she slowly got down and picked up her shoes. “Looks lovely, d’you have any mistletoe?” He asked under his breath. If anyone was here, there was no way they would have heard him.
She flushed and looked at her feet. “Not here.”
“Make sure y’show me that first,” he suggested as he gathered her chair to bring back into her office. “I’ll be there in twenty...And please don’t ever stay this late again without me knowing,” he said from her little office that sparkled with more decorations than the little room feasibly should have had but it still looked adorable.
She frowned, putting her heels back on quickly while Harry inspected her office. “How come?” She asked.
“Because if I called or went looking for you, and found out y’were at work and I wasn’t, I would probably kill Niall,” he shrugged. “Even if it was jus’ for decorations.”
Rolling her eyes, she sighed. “You’re something else, Mr. Styles.” He grinned so cutely at her response, the dimples on full display. It made her heart skip a beat.
Presently, she knocked on his office door as she had tons of times before holding her coffee between her arm and her body and his tea in her hand. She was much more careful about hot beverages in general and would take her chances spilling her iced one.
“Come in,” it was so quiet if she didn’t nearly have her ear pressed to the door, she may have missed it. She opened the door and stepped inside and blinked at the utter darkness of the room. Closing the door, she thought it seemed almost like the dead of night and not one in the afternoon. The curtains were pulled shut tightly, no light peeking through the corners at all. It was like he taped them down. Harry’s computer managed to throw the tiniest fraction of light across the room, so she hurried to his desk and set the tea and coffee down.
“Harry?” She whispered awkwardly. She blindly felt her way across his desk for the desk lamp he had there.
“Hmm?” He hummed. She heard it from the direction of his couch.
“Why’s it so dark in here?”
“M’head hurts,” he mumbled, he sounded stuffy. Oh no... When the desk lamp clicked on it made the room glow in the softest yellow. It reminded her of his home and the lamp in the room that was practically designated as hers. “No light,” he moaned.
“Harry,” she whispered sympathetically and hurried over to the couch now that she could see it. She crouched to his height; he was curled in a ball facing the back of the seat. His six-foot frame managing to look so small as he laid there. She pressed her hand to his forehead. “Baby, holy...you’re burning,” she frowned. “What’s wrong?” She asked.
“M’head...m’throat...m’achy,” he spoke so slowly. Coupled with a burning fever she couldn’t believe he got to work. Thank God he didn’t drive. “Y’called me baby,” he mumbled, and she swore in the dim light she could see the smallest, mischievous smirk tug at the corner of his lips. She felt a rush of heat to her cheeks, but she was worried about Harry getting delirious on her, so she stayed focused on worrying and not about the fact that he liked that she called him baby...nor the fact she said it so reflexively and she liked how it sounded too.
“Why did you come to work?” She whispered.
“T’see you.”
He didn’t say it in a way that was overly sweet. He wasn’t saying it to be dramatic or to make her stomach flip (it did anyway). It was simple, natural, the only response he could have said at that moment. “You can see me whenever you want,” she rolled her eyes.
“S’Wednesday,” he reminded her. She was at a loss. The fact it was Wednesday meant nothing. His most important meetings were held on Mondays and Thursdays. Wednesday by far was the slowest day of the week as far as special appointments with clients or employees on the floor.
Harry had this way about him that even in a circumstance like this, one in which she should just be getting him medicine or making sure he was okay and not having a full conversation like this, that he pulled words out of her like truth serum. She had to know why Wednesday was so special. “So?”
“Don’t see you ‘cept work on Wednesday,” he punctuated the end of his sentence with a sniffle and then a dry-sounding cough.
Her heart melted and now she was getting desperately worried. Only Harry would come to work to see her when he was sick beyond compare. “Harry...”
“Call me baby again,” that cute smirk of his was definitely plastered on his ill, but perfect face. “Makes m’feel better.”
She ignored him running her hand along his warm face. He loved how cool her hands felt in comparison. He didn’t even realize he was warm until she touched him. “You need to go home,” she told him. Her worry was starting to creep up faster and she was afraid he was going to rapidly start hallucinating because of his fever. Especially if he was asking her to call him baby when they were at work. If he forgot where they were, and he said something... Well, it wasn’t the idea of being something that scared her, it was the idea that people would find out and treat her differently that made her nervous.
“M’okay.”
“Harry,” she said pointedly. He didn’t respond. “Harry, seriously,” she whispered almost irritated. Not at him. She was mad he was sick and getting more worried by the second. Still no response. “Harry, you need...” Staring at his closed eyes, his red cheeks, and noting that this was the most disheveled she had ever seen him look. She frowned. Trying again to garner his attention, but simultaneously worried that someone might hear or that he had actually, truly passed out from his illness. “Baby,” she breathed.
Almost immediately he answered. “See? Feel better already...” he murmured and shivered as he snuggled deeper into the sofa seat. What a stubborn, sick, man-child, she thought. But she had to admit that was really cute, even sick as he was. “M’jus...taking a quick nap...and m’gonna get right back t’work.”
“You’ve been working?” She asked in shock.
He nodded. “All morning,” he sniffled.
“Harry,” she tutted disapprovingly. That’s gonna have to be looked at again. She bit her lip a little unsure what to do to keep him here and to keep him from working. “I’ll be right back,” she said softly. He ignored her. His breath sounded slow; like maybe he fell asleep. But she didn’t think that was the case...at least not yet. She could see his eyes fluttering to stay open as he continued to shiver from his fever. She wished he had a blanket on the couch so she could cover him. She hurried back to his desk grabbing the suitcoat he left draped over his and quickly laid it over top of his upper half as best she could. He seemed to sigh with relief. “Harry,” she tried again. Still nothing. “Harry, I—” After a moment, she pressed one of her hands to the side of her face in annoyance. She sighed and then leaned closer to his ear. “Baby, I’ll be right back,” she promised.
At the sound of his new favorite name, he responded immediately with the biggest smile he could muster while feeling like he was on death’s doorstep. “Okay, kitten, I love you,” he mumbled then promptly started lightly snoring through his congested sinuses. Her heart nearly stopped by his words. She hurried to leave the room before she said something stupid like she loved him too. She grabbed her coffee, clicked the light off, and left his office trying to keep calm before she ran to Niall like an idiot worried about someone that she wasn’t supposed to love.
The second she opened the door Niall was requesting her help. She already knew why before he asked. “Could you look at this...? Harry, sent it to me about an hour ago, but it looks all wrong...it almost looks like he totally forgot how to do it. I hate to be the one to tell him that sort of thing, but maybe I’m—”
“It probably is wrong,” she said firmly. She stood in front of his desk crossing one leg in front of her, tapping her fingers on the coffee cup in her hand and frowning. With her free hand she fidgeted with the skirt of her dress at her waist. “He’s really sick. He’s laying in the dark,” she told him. “Can...can you take him home?” She asked.
Niall looked up from the screen and saw how distraught she looked. “Is he alright?”
“He’s feverish...shivering...it’s flu-like,” she told him. “He’s really warm, Niall.”
“Why did he even come in?” Niall asked standing up and glancing at the ill-written document in front of him. She was grateful it was rhetorical so she wouldn’t have to say she knew why. Niall moved around from his desk and gave her arm a squeeze as he passed her. “I got it, darling. Don’t stress,” he winked and headed to Harry’s office.
She went back to her desk, anxiously tapping away at her own keyboard to see if there was anything she needed to tend to. Unfortunately, there was quite literally nothing on her plate for the time being. She decided to go to Niall’s computer. She knew if he asked her to look at what Harry sent, he wouldn’t mind if she made some edits to his literally ill-written work. It distracted her for the time being because it was approaching fifteen minutes late when Niall’s phone rang on his desk and by extension, hers rang from her desk. Glancing at his phone receiver he saw it listed Harry’s extension number on the little screen. “Hello?” She answered softly.
“He’s going home...but he...” he sighed, and she could almost hear the awkwardness in his voice. She imagined him rubbing the back of his head as he often did when chatting with someone that left him stumped. “M’sorry. I don’t like to bring it up, but he won’t go unless he knows you’ll go over after work.”
Her heart melted at the same time her cheeks turned bright red. She nodded silently for a second. “Of course,” she was quiet as she answered.
“She said, yes,” she could almost hear Niall’s eye roll as he clearly called across his office to him. She couldn’t make out what Harry said, but Niall snickered. “Alright, I’ll be back soon. I gotta call his driver,” he told her. “Thanks for telling me, darling, he’s definitely in rough shape...you are! You can’t even have the lights on!”
She giggled but found herself frowning at Harry’s discomfort. “No problem, happy to help.”
“If you want, you can try and correct Harry’s sore excuse of what he’s trying to pass off as work.”
She smirked knowingly at his computer in front of her. “Already on it.”
“Harry, you better hire her at the end of this. I’ll even put another wall in my office to give her more space.”
“Niall,” she laughed.
“Now’s the time to ask for anything you want when he’s too feverish to know what he’s agreeing to. Business 101, darling,” he said hanging up the phone. She snorted and continued working but there was no denying her brain was elsewhere while she thought of Harry feeling so unwell, he had to be approaching full delirium asking Niall to bring up their relationship with her, specifically. Twice in one day, at that, after never speaking about it with Niall, made her a bit uneasy.
After another fifteen minutes Niall returned and rolled his eyes. “What a drama queen,” he chuckled.
She frowned. “Is he alright?”
“He’ll be fine,” he shrugged. “He’s a big boy. He can take care of himself.” She felt like after seeing his sad work that needed so many corrections and the way he acted in his office she wasn’t sure that was all that accurate. She showed Niall the changes she made but he could tell her heart wasn’t in it.
She returned to her desk looking anxiously at her watch before fiddling with her little pen holder and sticky notes. She clicked on her email refreshing it hoping for something to appear for her to do to take her mind off Harry. “Darling?” Niall had silently stood at her door about to ask her to run and grab some documents he printed at the shop now that they were all in order. But he saw how upset she looked as she fiddled with the items on her desk in an attempt to look busy while her mind was clearly wandering to his best friend. Harry may have been approaching delirium and she may have been one of the smartest people Niall had ever met. But Niall believed both were quite stupid in knowing their true affections toward one another. It seemed Niall was the only one that knew it was well beyond the relationship they were claiming to carry out currently.
She turned in her chair to look at him. “Do you need something?” She asked with such sweetness in her voice, Niall knew she would really stay and do anything like the most perfect employee she was, even as just an intern she was better than people he had worked with for years.
He smirked. “Would you want to leave early and go help him?”
She felt her cheeks warm at his extremely accurate assumption and she looked back at her desk. She shook her head. “No... that’s okay.”
He stuffed his hands in his pockets and leaned against the doorframe, he smirked. “Are you saying no because you’re my intern?” She nodded silently. “If I asked you to go as a direct intern need, would you go?” After the briefest of pauses, she nodded more and glanced at him nervously.
“I know this is extremely unprofessional. You shouldn’t even offer...you shouldn’t—”
“Darling, I already told you...I like you for him.”
She was quiet and her cheeks turned pink. “I don’t think that’s...” she shook her head and Niall smiled.
“Look, we don’t have to dwell on it. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but I know my best friend pretty well. When I think about how he has done this in the past and now...there is something entirely different about you. Even just as our intern, he trusts you more than anyone I’ve ever had. He likes you,” he told her. “A lot.”
She thought about how his feverish mind said he loved her. She looked at her hands in her lap twiddling her fingers as a distraction. “Isn’t it bad that it’s different?” She asked.
Niall shrugged. “I don’t know much about the...traditional...relationships,” he decided on the phrase of words carefully and she found it funny and ironic that he chose the word traditional like she did. “But I don’t think it’s bad. I think he just likes you.”
“It would be really awkward to tell people how we met,” she muttered not really expecting Niall to answer.
He chuckled anyway. “I’ve already claimed full credit for finding you in a sea of intern applications.”
She smirked, that made her relieved in a way that she shouldn’t have been. “I see.”
“Get out of here, take care of the big baby,” he rolled his eyes.
She gathered her belongings almost immediately as Niall headed away. Coat on, work bag over her shoulder, purse across her body, water bottle in her bag, and of course her beloved coffee in hand while she turned off her computer with the free one. She stood in the doorway to Niall’s office, and she looked at him studying his computer before he picked up the phone to dial. While she ordered an Uber with her free hand, she told him, “I’ll stop at the print shop on my way and bring the documents in tomorrow, too.”
He smirked, shook his head amazed once more that she anticipated exactly what he needed without having to say it. “Harry is a lucky man, darling.”
*
Her Uber driver stopped in front of the pretty house, and he whistled in appreciation. She ignored it but knew it was awe-inspiring. Thanking him, she headed up the driveway, bags and documents and all. She let herself into his house with the code he kindly gave her on the keypad. Once inside, she settled her things by the staircase to get them out of her hands. She pulled her heels off and made her way around to the bedrooms. “Harry?” She called softly. She checked “her” room. It was empty, which she expected, but it was also closest to the front door. She figured if he was unwell, it would be the first place to fall into a comfy bed.
The next bedroom was also empty; to be expected. But she made her way into the master bedroom, finding it untouched. Frowning, she went to the master bathroom worried he passed out or something on the floor. But the door was wide open and there was no ill Harry lying on the floor.
“Harry?” She called again.
“Hmm?” He hummed. It was coming from the main room. Her eyebrows pinched together, and she hurried back quickly to his quiet response. “S’five already?” He asked.
She blinked in surprise to find Harry butt-naked lying on his couch. His suit haphazardly on the floor. She lost her breath a bit seeing Harry, perfect skin uninterrupted by clothing, not even underwear, from head to toe. She stammered to speak. “N-not five. Niall let me…wanted me to help you…why are you naked?”
Harry was in a prone position, face smushed into the cushions and a throw pillow that his arms wrapped around like he was hugging it for all he was worth. He was lying where she often took comfort to snuggle into the soft cushions when they watched TV or movies. “I got hot,” he mumbled. The muscles in his back were tantalizing; she wanted to lick the length of his spine. She was glad he couldn’t see her ogling him because her eyes couldn’t get over the curve of his cute bum staring back at her. Shaking her head to regain composure, she cleared her throat. “We need to... Get you to bed.”
He shook his head, eyes closed. She wondered if he had a clue she was really there. “Couch smells like you.”
Her heart constricted. Harry was going to kill her with his sickly sweetness. She wanted him in bed though. Crouching down she pressed her hand to the side of his face she could touch, the part not squished against pillows. He was still extremely warm. He sighed as the temperature difference made him feel the slightest bit cooler. She was glad she came over because she was certain she’d have to take him to the hospital if he didn’t cool down soon.
“Come on, Harry.”
“No.”
“Please, Harry. You’re not well. I want you to be comfy.”
“No, smells like you,” he repeated.
She bit her lip and sighed softly. “I’ll lay down with you in bed,” she bargained.
“If I could jump up, I would,” he coughed softly against the sofa.
“Okay,” she smirked with a breath of laughter.
“You’re gonna see m’naked,” he murmured.
“Purely medical. Strictly business.”
“I hope y’like what y’see anyway.”
She had a feeling she probably would. “Come on,” she encouraged, standing and grabbing for his hands to help him get up.
“Everything hurts,” he grumbled. He rubbed his eye with the palm of one hand as he stood and swayed a bit unsteadily. Almost like a 6-foot toddler. She would have laughed at how adorable he was if she wasn’t so fraught with worry. She pressed her hand to his stomach to steady him while she wrapped her other arm around his middle. She paid almost no mind to the fact that Harry, in all his beautiful naked glory was on display making her insides twist in awkward discomfort. Not the discomfort of seeing him naked, but that she wanted to see him naked, and she was wishing he felt well.
Fortunately, just like when she was injured and Harry compartmentalized, she found it was, in fact, easy enough to compartmentalize his naked body while still taking care of him. He had the subtlest of muscles rippling over his abdomen along with several more tattoos. Again, she desperately wanted to run her tongue over each one. “Come on,” she cooed gently again. “Did you take any medicine?”
He shook his head. “No jus’ took m’clothes off and fell asleep.” They walked slowly to his bedroom. His body ached with each step. After what seemed like ten minutes, she was sitting him upright on the bed. At this point he was shivering but she figured at some point he would get hot again. She pulled the covers down on the bed and grabbed a pair of his boxers out of the top drawer of his dresser. He was rubbing his eye again. He coughed and then sniffled. “M’teeth hurt,” he grumbled.
She frowned. “Poor baby,” she whispered while sinking to her knees to slide his boxers up his legs. She compartmentalized as best she could, but Harry’s penis was quite literally right in front of her face and there was no denying she was in a bit of awe. Sick as he was, he wasn’t the least bit hard but that only made her more nervous about any future endeavors regarding this department. He’ll ruin any guy ever after, she thought. At least with her stay at Hospital Styles she had underwear to keep a shred of herself hidden. But again, she was slowly wishing she wasn’t putting on his underwear and wishing that he felt well...and knew that he was naked in front of her. Helping him stand to get the elastic snug on his waist did wonders for her ability to help him now that Calvin Klein was hiding all his fun bits.
She hoped he didn’t remember this solely because she might drool thinking about it let alone talking about it. “Let’s get under the covers, Harry.”
He pouted. “How come y’don’t want t’call me baby?” He almost whined as he got beneath the sheets. She smirked.
“I do want to call you baby, baby.”
He sighed. “You jus’ said Harry,” he pouted.
“That is your name.”
He shook his head. “I don’t feel good.”
Oh so that means I have to call him baby the whole time. She didn’t mind humoring him. “Okay then baby. I won’t call you Harry until you’re better,” she said softly humoring the poor thing.
“M’cold,” he said shivering. She frowned.
“Did you get a flu shot?” She wondered tossing the covers back over him. She searched through his closet to find more blankets.
“I forgot,” he mumbled his teeth practically chattering as he tried to burrow himself into the blankets. She draped the blankets over him and turned her attention to the thermostat by the light switch. “I made an appointment…but I…I got distracted b-by work,” he admitted. His teeth were in fact clicking together. “Jesus,” he mumbled shivering against the many blankets.
“Just one second,” she said hurrying down the hall. She wore tights beneath her dress, so she nearly slipped as she now searched for medicine in the cabinets of his kitchen. She found an assortment of liquids and pills. She felt like a regular old apothecary. All of them were expired. She was lucky the painkillers he gave her a few months ago were fresh. She was irritated with him, but it wasn’t his fault. She knew work was the cause. With a packed schedule like his, it seemed taking care of himself got the short straw. Obviously ensuring his medicine hadn’t expired was not a priority for him.
She took what she could; figured expired likely just meant less potent and along with a glass of water brought it back to his room. He was still violently shivering and when she pressed her hand over his face, he was still hot and clammy to the touch. He sighed visibly comforted by her hands on him.
“Okay baby,” she hummed softly. “Let’s get some medicine in you,” she said. “M’gonna run to the store while you sleep and restock,” she said.
“No don’t leave me,” he whined as she pressed the pills to his lips and then the water.
“Baby, all your medicine is expired. You need—”
“Please don’t leave me,” he practically begged. “Jus’ want y’here.” She poured the flu medicine that would likely make him fall asleep in moments. She brought it to his lips.
“I just want you to feel better, baby. I won’t be gone for very long and you’ll be asleep hopefully so—”
“Please,” he whispered. “Please don’t go,” he mumbled.
Even if he was feeling completely fine and he asked like this she couldn’t imagine a situation in which she could deny his request. He was so sweet. The idea of him begging sent her spiraling at the thought he wanted her there so badly. It was hard for her to get her hopes up though.
Occasionally, her mind wandered to the girls that were here before her. Would they have helped Harry while he was sick? If they did, did he beg them not to leave? It wasn’t the time to think about it; her mind chose now. Nonetheless, it made her jealous of something that may or may not even happened. She found herself wishing once more that she met Harry naturally and not on some website looking for a fast way to get money. It would have helped her self-esteem to know he wasn’t babbling over her just because she was in close proximity. Or maybe because he did this with any woman in his life.
“Okay, okay, I won’t go,” she whispered. “Just go to sleep, Har—baby,” she corrected quickly.
“Y’promise?” He mumbled sleepily. She settled the glass of water on his nightstand, and she laid beside him.
“No further than the kitchen,” she promised. Carefully, she ran her fingers through his sweaty, messy curls. With her free hand she used her phone to message El and Lou.
If I send you money, can you guys go buy A TON of medicine for me?
Are you ever not sick? Louis asked.
Course love! Just send a list! El was a lot like her and immediately accommodating, no questions asked.
She replied to Louis’ message. It’s for Harry.
Of course it is ;)
Shut up, Lou. Are you at Harry’s now?
Yes. Just let me know when you’re here. No rush.
You’re gonna get sick taking care of him. Just in time for Christmas. Louis reminded her.
I got the flu shot. I’ll be fine.
After sending the medicinal list, she turned her attention back to Harry, sound asleep, snoring, mouth open. The violent shivers subsided, and she felt relief in seeing the peacefulness finally wash over him.
Whether other girls took care of him or not, she was grateful he was okay for the moment and she helped.
*
Harry woke up blind. He was constricted by the mountain of blankets on him. It felt warmly suffocating but still okay. He wasn’t fully aware of his surroundings or what was happening. He remembered coming home, feeling ill, and the sweet girl coming to his rescue. Managing to get use of his arm beneath the heavy blankets he reached for his eyes and pulled a wet cold cloth off his forehead and eyes.
He blinked against the soft light coming from his bedside table. “Styles Incorporated. Mr. Styles’ phone, can I help you...? Oh hello! Nice to hear from you again…yes,” she giggled. “Well Mr. styles is a bit under the weather so Mr. Horan asked I help him out…can I leave a message for you…? Oh, I have access to that, I’ll send it to you,” she said and he watched as she wrote down on the paper she had attached to a clipboard while simultaneously tapping on her laptop keyboard. “You should have gotten it if you want to check…perfect,” she smiled. “I will have him call you back as soon as he can,” she promised quietly. “Have a lovely day!”
She slid her thumb across Harry’s phone, and she tapped away on her keyboard for a few more moments before she blindly reached for Harry’s hair and combed her fingers through it. Her hand slid toward his forehead, and she pouted as she realized the cloth was gone. Must have fallen off he shivered or coughed. She turned to see where it landed but did a double take when he noticed his eyes were open. She hadn’t noticed he was awake for her in action. “Oh. Hey sleepyhead,” she cooed. She put her work items to the side and wriggled out of bed. At the same time his phone rang again. She grabbed the cloth from Harry and the phone at the same time. “Styles Incorporated, please hold,” she said and pressed mute on his phone before she scurried into the bathroom. He heard the water turn on and she returned quickly with the cloth for his warm forehead. She tapped his phone again as she placed a thermometer under his tongue with a beep. She reached over him, grabbing her clipboard and rested it on his stomach, pen pulled from behind her ear and perched ready to write. “Mr. styles phone, how can I help you?” She asked. “He’s under the weather right now. Can I take a message…? Regarding…?” She scribbled furiously. The thermometer beeped and she took it out of his mouth, glancing at the screen a small frown on her lips. She set it on the table beside him. “I can see if Mr. Horan knows for you if it’s that pressing but otherwise, you’ll have to wait until he’s well enough to call back…I understand. Let me give you Mr. Horan’s number.”
Harry was lost as to what was happening. What was going on? She was taking care of him but also taking phone calls. It was dark out, it had to be like nine at least.
The one thing Harry was aware of: he was hopelessly, tragically, and undeniably in love with her. He always felt that he was falling for her...but watching her multitask all in name to take care of him made his already warm body heat from the inside out with admiration and love for the sweet girl.
“How do you feel?” She asked. He didn’t know how to respond. He wanted to say he was fine. But he was totally woozy from being sick and in love. Plus, he was sweating (unrelated to being in love). But freezing, too (also unrelated to being in love). “You’re at 100.1 which is boiling here in America, baby. But it’s down from 102 about three hours ago which nearly terrified me enough to call an ambulance. But I’ve been checking every thirty minutes and it’s been going down steadily.”
“What time is it?” He mumbled.
“A little after six.”
“The phone?” He asked.
She shook her head. “Don’t worry. Niall and I have it covered. It wouldn’t stop ringing so I just started taking calls. Anything I could help or pass off to Niall I did. The rest I wrote for you. I’m gonna organize it when you fall asleep again in order of importance to answer, for when you feel better.” Harry was sure this was some flu medicine induced fever dream. He was speechless. She glanced at the phone vibrating and put it to her ear. “One sec Niall. He just woke up,” she said softly. She muted his best friend. “Baby, Are you alright?”
“Will you marry me?” He asked.
She snorted but even if he was in a cough syrup stupor, she felt her face warm. “Ask me again when you’re well, baby,” she said softly. “M’gonna go warm up some soup for you,” she leaned over, pressed her lips to just above the cloth and at his hairline. “Hey,” she said into the phone and Harry was entranced. Just watching her cute dress figure flit down the hall was more evidence that he was so in love. Harry stared at his ceiling in utter awe and adoration for her. He didn’t remember getting into bed or taking medicine or anything for that matter. He doesn’t even know how he got his clothes off. With his head woozy, he refrained from sitting up at all. Just listened to her quiet voice hum into the phone while she made soup for him.
God, he loved her so much.
*
Harry worried she would get sick, but she was insistent she was fine. Louis said the same thing and she knew why.
Part of her thought she would get sick right before Christmas. That was fine by her. It meant she wouldn’t have to worry about her family, nor would it make Louis and Eleanor feel guilty enough to invite her to their families—even if they always told her she was welcomed and they, in fact, didn’t feel guilty. But Christmas was a later worry. Harry was a current one.
He felt bad it was so early and she was about to sleep at eight at night. “Least turn the TV on, love,” he murmured sleepily.
She shook her head. “I’ll read on my phone once you’re asleep, baby,” she shrugged. His heart fluttered about his chest at the word baby. He rather enjoyed her saying it so much. Maybe it was just because he was sick. He thought it was sweet.
She stepped into his bathroom and closed the door. In the span of four minutes (not that he was counting), he heard the toilet flush, the water run, and out she came: hair up, make-up off, and dressed in a pair of Harry’s sweatpants and one of his shirts.
He felt overwhelmed with love for her.
She crawled into the other side of the bed. “How come you’re sleeping in here?” He asked.
The confidence he saw her wear for the last hour and a half vanished at his question. Her face reddened as she looked at him. “Oh…oh my god...I’m so sorry,” she started to get out of the bed. Harry thought that was a tragic mistake on his part and he wanted to punch himself for even asking his question. “Uh… earlier you would come to bed...I had to bargain you to get into bed by saying I would...lay down with you...but obviously you’re okay now and I’m embarrassingly awkward,” she said shuffling out of bed.
“No don’t,” he begged quickly grabbing her hand. “Stay. I don’t remember that…but I want you t’stay... please.”
“Are you sure?” She asked. Harry nodded. She slid into bed again and Harry turned the light out. They laid there silently in the dark, until Harry had a small coughing fit. “Are you alright, baby?” She whispered softly.
Harry wanted to ask why she kept calling him “baby,” but he practically sent her out of the room by asking her why she was sleeping with him, so he didn’t want to repeat that. He would try to figure it out some other way. “M’okay,” he mumbled.
“Do you want me to wake you up in the middle of the night to take more medicine?”
“How are y’going t’do that?”
She giggled very softly. “Well...you’re going to be asleep from this dose. I’ll set an alarm and wake you in six hours.”
“At two in the morning?” He asked. “That’s really early, kitten. I don’t want t’bother—”
“No, not at all. Niall also suggested I work from here answering calls and sending messages so I can keep an eye on you tomorrow, since you will not be going in.”
She said it in an informative way, but Harry could tell that she was telling him he was staying home, and he didn’t have a say in the matter. “Okay,” he yawned. She carefully reached out and pressed the back of her hand to his face. He reveled in how good it felt to be touched by her. Even if he was ill. Plus, her hands were still much cooler than his own body temp. “Good night, beautiful,” he mumbled sleepily.
“Good night, baby,” she slid her fingers through his hair a few times and he felt his eyelids get heavier by the second as she did. Right before sleep overcame him, she stopped touching his hair and grabbed his hand and twined their fingers together. Harry gave her hand a small squeeze before he finally fell asleep.
*
Harry’s fever broke around lunch time. She was at the dining room table. Legging clad and a big t-shirt draped over her. Her hair was pulled into a tight bun with just a strand falling around her face. He wondered where she got the clothes. She refused to leave anything in her room. Maybe Eleanor dropped some off for her.
Her laptop was open, coffee beside her. She was taking calls left and right. Her leg propped on the chair as she typed and scribbled. He noticed there was a bag of trash tied and sitting by the front door and he frowned. Then he further noticed it smelled quite chemically in the kitchen, even through his stuffy nose he could smell it.
Like she cleaned.
He backed slowly out of the kitchen to let her work. That’s when he noticed the washing machine running...and the dryer. What the fuck. He turned the water on for the shower and closed the door while he peed. After washing his hands, he started to brush his teeth. The steam from the shower was strong now. It almost immediately healed his sinuses, and he rubbed his aching temples for a minute desperately trying to remember more from yesterday. “Harry?” She knocked on the door.
He suddenly hated the way his name sounded in her mouth. What happened to baby? “Yeah?” He muttered around his toothbrush.
“Are you okay?” He opened the bathroom door mid brush. He nodded at her. She blinked in surprise. He spit, rinsed and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. “I-I just... wanted to make sure you won’t pass out,” she said.
“M’fever broke, I think,” rubbing the back of his head. “Did y’eat?” He asked.
“I’m sorry?”
“Have y’taken a lunch or had a break since y’woke up?” He asked rubbing his hand over his face almost as if he were exasperated. He already knew her answer.
“Er...no...well...”
He shook his head. “I’ll make y’something when I get out,” he said.
She felt like she was in trouble. Her attention turned to look at her feet, face turning a bit red. “Sorry...I just—”
“S’okay, kitten. I jus’ want t’make sure you t’take a break,” he promised. “I’ll be right out.”
“Take your time,” she said softly. “And... shout if you need something, please. Or if you feel dizzy.”
He smiled at her kindness, her sweetness. He nodded. “Sure thing, love.” She left the room and Harry closed the door.
He let the water beat on his achy back muscles trying to piece his afternoon and evening together. Nothing seemed to come back, and he wondered what kind of work he managed to produce. He needed to get his phone back so he could talk to Niall.
He could hear her chattering away into his phone. Or her phone. Maybe both. He thought about the interns Niall used to get and he wondered how on earth he had ever selected anyone before her. Just knowing she had been out there this whole time seemed foolish to believe Niall could have hired anyone else. Now, Harry had to make up a job for her just to keep her at the end of it. And figure out how to stop paying her to be his companion so he could just date her and marry her already.
This wasn’t always so complicated.
In the past it was...traditional...as she put it. He would take someone to dinner. They’d have sex and he would put money in their account. It was clockwork. Sure, he cared for them, but it wasn’t like this. It was almost possessive the way he cared in the past—he wasn’t proud of it. It wasn’t like her. He didn’t spend hours upon hours thinking about what his previous companion was doing or what she was feeling.
He only ever felt like this when he had an actual girlfriend. But even that was different and colored with the anger of hindsight knowing that his exes cared more about his money, his belongings, the trips he could take them on...
He took a break from dating and from companionship for a while. But after Niall had thoroughly improved Harry's golf game after rounds and rounds of tee time...he bought an entire hotel, paid for renovations, and then sold it for a profit out of boredom....it seemed like he needed to find something productive to do to fight off the loneliness. There was only so much he could expect Niall to do as his best friend. Niall had his own life even if they spent so much time together outside of work too.
Harry felt terribly lonely. But dating seemed like an even worse idea after how hurt he was from his last relationship. At least with a companion he didn’t have to feel if he didn’t want to feel.
So, there he was on a Wednesday night, as he scrolled through his favorite website to find his next companion on the various listings and profiles. You could call it whatever you want, Harry swore it was divine intervention that her profile popped onto his page just as he started to close out the tab figuring it was a dumb idea after all looking for any type of relationship—even a companionship.
Matching your filters read the top line of the page and listed three young women. But he couldn’t even remember what the other two looked like if he thought about it now. There was this adorable, beautiful creature smiling in her profile picture. Obviously, she hadn’t a clue as to what she was doing as there was no cleavage, no pouty lips. It was the kind of picture his mom would hang up on the wall if it were Gemma. He tapped the view more to see her. He wanted to read about her likes and hobbies but he was utterly distracted by the most outlandish thing he had ever seen on this site.
“Fifteen hundred?” He gasped out loud. “Oh my God.” He messaged her immediately in genuine fear that someone would harm her if she wasn’t careful. She was too cute not to save from this site.
It was odd he didn’t receive a message back for three days later. He assumed he would have gotten one instantaneously if she was asking for so cheap. There was no way she didn’t have more takers. Whatever, again, divine intervention. He wasn’t supposed to be in any kind of relationship right now.
Thank you, that’s very kind, but I really don’t need all that much.
He forgot he had messaged her honestly. He was at a bar with Niall when he got the alert. Fortunately, Niall was engrossed in an email regarding the new intern. Harry dreaded the interns. Much like his exes and companions, they usually weren’t there for the job. Harry was hesitant to say they were there for him, but unfortunately a local business magazine did one of those 30 under 30 articles and well...the company hadn’t been the same since. At least not when it came to interns. He trusted Niall. He truly believed every person he picked had the intention of being good and being a great employee in the business realm.
Just not at Styles Incorporated.
“I like this one a lot,” Niall said. “Did you read her recommendations? I think she’s...top notch, Harry. You might even like her.”
Harry smirked at his friend, shook his head. He was now invested in his conversation with this cute being at the other end of his phone. “Sure, Ni,” he mumbled. “They were very good,” he lied. Hadn’t read them. Like he said, he trusted Niall.
“I just want to check with IT that her badge will be ready when she gets there, I’ll be right back.” Which left Harry to message the sweet girl. The rest was history. Nothing prepared him for seeing the same sweet smile from the profile page on their newest intern. Guess I should have looked at the application...
Part of him regretted not ending it right then and there. But part of him figured if he never liked interns, certainly he wouldn’t like this one. But then she got him tea. And she knew what Niall needed. She was selflessly helpful and so. Goddamn. Adorable.
So, his next thought was to tell her at dinner he couldn’t pay her monthly. He had put her up in one of the apartments he bought and sublet on occasion. He could have just let her stay there for a year since he already promised. But she was willing to sit under a freezing cold vent for the duration of dinner so as not to bother him. Harry wanted nothing more than to protect her with everything in him and he didn’t care if he ever slept with her for as long as he lived. He would be celibate if it meant she would be in his life as a companion, a girlfriend--hell, he would have let Niall marry her if it meant she would be around (no he wouldn’t, but it was the premise of the thought).
He was captivated by her. Her ability to help was unnatural in a cutthroat business world like Harry’s. Her adorableness was almost too much for him. In hindsight, he knew when she got burned by the coffee that it wasn’t that poor guy’s fault. But firing him was hardly the least of what Harry wanted to do to him.
He thought of all the past heart break and all the companions that never really meant much to him other than what they were at face value.
This lovely girl currently in his house doing chores and business for him all while ensuring he was feeling okay...was everything to him.
Once he shut the water off, he hurried to get dressed. He figured she had seen him in his underwear—maybe worse but he couldn’t remember—so he did wear a pair of loose joggers and skipped a shirt. He was still kind of warm feeling. He heard a phone buzzing from her little station but she wasn’t situated there. It was his phone, just Niall.
“H—” He barely even got the syllable out.
“Hey darling. I know you’re doing laundry or some other sickeningly domestic thing for Harry or sucking his dick, I don’t know what kind of medicine he’s been asking for...and I know you haven’t stepped away for a second, but could you tell me where we filed the contract for—”
“Niall,” he interrupted.
He snorted. “Naturally.”
“Why would you ever say that t’her?” He asked pinching the bridge of his nose.
She suddenly reappeared from the hall a sheet held between her lips as she folded it. He may have adored her kindness for helping him, but he didn’t want her to do it—especially with the...situation...they had. Her eyebrows pinched together at him in confusion and Harry shook his head at her. She would probably quit the internship and leave the apartment in the middle of the night if Niall actually said that to her.
Had she and Niall been talking about...them?
“She said you were butt-naked when she arrived. I thought it might have been a ploy,” he had a shrug in his voice. Harry scoffed at him. He doesn’t remember being butt-naked. But it did sound like him. She pulled the phone from Harry’s ear.
“Hi, Niall,” she said. “Uh...it should be one of the top files in the box. I think I had them put it in a red folder, let me check—oh good!” She listened intently for a few moments and then her lips pressed in a firm line. She glanced at Harry nervously, her cheeks reddening. “Oh my God,” she pressed a hand over her eyes. “Thanks,” she mumbled. “Yeah, yeah...I know. I’ll...I’ll see you tomorrow. If I don’t kill myself.”
“Jesus Christ,” Harry muttered shaking his head. She set the phone on the table and she glanced at him.
“Did he really say that?” She asked. “Or is he just trying to embarrass me?”
“He did, but I think it was at my expense, love. I know that,” he rolled his eyes. “Please don’t be embarrassed. You’ve been doing so much for me...too much.”
“Apparently not enough,” she muttered and sighed. He was going to respond that that was not what he wanted. Well...he was only man, so...but not...not like that. She started speaking again before he could reply. “You’re going to make a late lunch?” She asked.
“Uh...sure...” Keeping up with her change in conversation sometimes left him a bit lost. Add in a touch of the flu and he was now hopeless.
“Could I shower?” She asked.
Harry was devastated that he had no floral smelling soaps and shampoos at this moment in time. “O-of course, kitten. Y’don’t have t’ask.”
“Technically I’m on the clock.”
“Technically, I want you off the clock,” she rolled her eyes and Harry swore he fell more in love with her. “I’ll make lunch, and y’can shower,” he repeated easily. “Think you’ve earned a bit of down time, love.”
She smiled gratefully. “Thank you,” she reached up and pressed her hand on his forehead. “Must have just been a 48-hour bug,” she murmured to herself. “Oh!” She hurried back to her workstation. “I don’t know if you’ll have time, but this is your list of calls.”
She had the prettiest handwriting, naturally. He frowned, looking over at her curiously. “Kitten, s’only...ten messages. You’ve practically been on the phone for...eight hours? Shouldn’t it be more like sixty?”
She smiled sheepishly and shrugged one shoulder. “I told you I took care of as many as I could. Niall handled a good chunk too. And some were call backs...and a lot were just me and Niall chatting.”
Harry looked at the list again, then the sweet girl. He could hear the dryer running still and could still smell the cleaning products on his kitchen counters. She waited patiently for him to speak because his lips were parted, and he clearly had something to say. He was at a loss for words to express his gratitude. “I don’t want t’get y’sick, but I’d really like t’kiss y’now if y’wouldn’t mind,” he said politely setting the list on the table.
She blushed. She even embarrassed as perfectly as she did everything. It made his heart hammer against his ribs at how cute her pink cheeks were. “I don’t mind,” she whispered quietly.
“Good,” he said simply, bent slightly to hold her face between his hands and pressed his mouth on hers thinking how Niall was out of line in his delivery, but he wasn’t completely wrong. She might have been the very best medicine he had over the last two days.
It's literally 8.2K words. I'm so sorry. I hope you like it anyway even if it's long.
Read the rest here: Traditional
“How do these things usually end?”
Forget dislike, he hated this. “I usually end it,” he told her. He liked being honest with her, but honesty about this might ruin him. He was glad she wasn’t looking at him. Just pressed to his side, he thought he might have exploded while answering that question if she wasn’t so closely snuggled up to him.
Harry practically begged his driver to teleport him with how fast he wanted him to drive. The thought of her alone in his home in pain made him almost delusional with anger. The car had hardly stopped when Harry threw the door open and punched in the code for his lock before entering.
We left her on the couch with her favorite show – E & L was the message he got from her phone. He really should have just gotten their numbers. It seemed like a safer idea. He appreciated them taking care of her. She didn’t seem like one that wanted or needed someone to take care of her all that much. This was proof as such. She was going to stay at work if it wasn’t for Eleanor asking. He was grateful Niall had the same idea as him to send her home.
He was more grateful to Louis and Eleanor for taking her here.
Harry had a large, comfy sectional in the main room. Again, the storm door hadn’t even shut yet and he was across the room knelt by her side on the chaise part of the sectional. There she was sleeping so peacefully, her show long forgotten, he didn’t even want to wake her up. But after extensive research on burn care once she left the office, he was worried she was getting dehydrated--so much so he thought he'd have to take her to the hospital. Especially after she drank her coffee and not water. He did note there was a glass of water on the end table beside her and once more he was grateful for her best friends.
Harry continued marveling at how pretty she was and, for another moment, forgot about how upset he was that she was injured. Her lips parted just slightly, cheeks a cute rosy pink, her hair a bit smushed against the pillow behind her. Her friends must have propped her up just a little so she could rest and watch the TV. He wondered how long she lasted because the TV was still playing, and he did manage to take note that The Good Place was her favorite show. The remote was just by her fingertips and he paused the show before turning back to her.
She had two blankets on her and looked a bit lumpy. He thought it was weird that with a burn she wanted more heat. Which of course led him to worry her body temperature was dropping rapidly like he had read on the multiple websites he studied from before arriving home. Carefully reaching out, he rested a hand on her abdomen noting it was cool and squishy to the touch.
Too squishy.
Peeling the top blanket back he found her covered in a second blanket and sandwiched in between were all the ice packs and his frozen vegetables from the freezer. He smirked and covered her back up. He really liked Louis and Eleanor.
Her face was so peaceful, not a wrinkle of distress from pain or her dream. He really didn’t want to wake her up, but he would go mad if he didn’t hear from her directly that she was still okay. Gently, he pressed a hand to her face and rubbed his thumb along her cheekbone. “Hey, kitten,” he murmured so softly. “Can y’wake up for a minute?” He didn’t want to touch anywhere really in worry he would hurt her aching skin. He slid his hand down to her neck and rested it on her shoulder and before he gave a tiny little shake. Mostly just pressure on her arm than a shake, really. At least that’s how he was justifying it to himself. She shifted ever so slightly, and her eyes fluttered open. She frowned so cutely Harry wanted nothing more than to kiss her so badly. “Hey love, do y’feel okay?” He asked shifting his hand back to her sweet face. Her eyebrows were pinched together as her eyes adjusted to the setting sunlight coming through the window.
“Harry?” She murmured.
“Yes, love, what d’you need?” He asked.
“M’sleepy,” she told him closing her eyes again quickly. Harry thought his heart was going to burst out of his chest, she sounded so cute.
Her eyes opened again, it seemed like a better adjustment than the first time. “M’okay. Louis went through your cabinets looking for medicine,” she told him. “M’sorry. He doesn’t have any boundaries.”
“No, kitten, s’alright. I should ‘ve told him where it was.”
“Eleanor went through your kitchen and linen closet for veggie soup she turned me into,” she said sleepily.
He was so glad she could make jokes because he was still so upset but it was easier to talk to her with no one around. “S’okay, too, love,” he promised chuckling. “Can I take ‘em off now? They’re not too cold anymore.”
She nodded. “I’ll buy you new ones,” she closed her eyes again.
He rolled his eyes as he collected all the packs and bags of vegetables off her body. The short walk to his fridge and leaving her on the couch literally had his heart aching to be away from her. He was so far gone for the poor girl laying on his couch he doesn’t know how he got so lucky to happen across her profile. “When did y’take medicine last?” He asked looking at the bottle of pain killers that was left on the counter. She reached for her phone on the end table inhaling sharply at the movement.
“Right when I got here...probably five hours ago.”
“Okay,” he said. He still had an hour. He didn’t want to chase her pain. The thought of her being in pain made him sick. “Y’okay?”
“I want to sit up more...but...I need help,” she admitted.
“Sure, sure,” he hurried back to her side. “What d’you need?”
She threw the blankets off to the side and Harry gathered them up and tossed them onto the other end of the sectional. Reaching her hands out, Harry eagerly took one in each hand. Her hands were so warm. He waited for her next direction. “Harry,” she said gently.
“Yes, love?”
“There’s nothing you can do about it, it’s going to hurt a little bit no matter what. It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”
He frowned. “I don’t like that you’re trying t’comfort me when you’re injured.”
She giggled. “M’okay,” she promised. “Just pull me to standing and then I’ll readjust.”
“Okay,” he nodded. As he pulled her upright, she closed her eyes and inhaled sharply as her clothes and skin surely rubbed together. He pouted more at her pain and waited until the pain subsided a bit while she stood. “Y’alright, kitten?” He hummed.
She nodded. “Yeah,” but she didn’t really sound like she believed she was fine. Opening her eyes she glanced back at the corner of the couch calling her name. “Okay, um... I should... probably use the bathroom before I leave.”
Harry was full blown pouting. “Leave?” He asked.
“Well...yeah...I was going to call Louis and Eleanor.”
“I was going t’make y’dinner, kitten,” he said.
Again, she wasn’t one to believe in herself much when it came to relationships. Especially after her last one abruptly ended. Even more so with the somewhat interesting relationship she had with Harry. But she swore she could hear the tone of disappointment in Harry’s voice. “Er...I don’t want to overstay or put you out...I just thought—”
“Love, I want y’here so I can take care of you.”
Harry was a several inches taller than her, so she had to tilt her head up just a bit to make eye contact with the prettiest green eyes—that, without any exaggeration—in existence. Even pouting, he was still the most handsome person she had ever laid eyes on. He looked worried and she wanted to smooth out the wrinkle he had made between his eyebrows. How on earth could a man’s eyebrows be cute? How could Harry be this attractive? It did not seem fair to the rest of the male species. It was hardly fair to her being in the same room as him with so much effortless beauty. “Well...what about work tomorrow? I have to go home so I can shower and put on real clothes.”
“Tomorrow’s Saturday, love,” he reminded her.
She completely forgot. Sighing, she bit the inside of her lip. Truth be told, the idea of having to maneuver without anyone around when every movement felt like literal fire seemed stupid on her part. But she wasn’t sure she wanted Harry to see her naked and burned—especially when he hadn’t seen her naked when she wasn't injured. “Yeah, but I have to replace those files and I want to get Niall’s shoes replaced and his pants dry cleaned from all the coffee—”
He shook his head as she spoke. “Kitten, you’re not going t’work on a Saturday. I don’t even think I’ll let y’go in on Monday,” he said definitively. She was speechless.
“Harry,” she started.
“S’fine kitten. It’ll be like a little weekend getaway. I could use a day off,” he smirked wryly.
“You can’t take Monday off, it’ll be too suspicious. You’ve never taken a day off while I’ve been there.”
“Y’sound like Mum,” he rolled his eyes.
“Well it’s true.”
They were both quiet for a moment and Harry glanced at the hallway before turning back to her. They could quibble over Monday later. “The bathroom is down there,” he said. “Do y’need me t’help you at all?”
She snorted. “No thank you, I’d rather die.”
He chuckled. “Kitten, s’okay...I...I won’t say anything.”
She shook her head. “No,” she started to slowly move down to the hall. She just had to get her leggings off her thighs, and she could pee in peace.
“Jus’ shout if y’need me,” he said sitting on the couch and scrolling through his phone.
*
She was extremely unhappy that Harry was right. She probably couldn’t be alone. It took her nearly fifteen minutes just to pee. When she left the bathroom, Harry was in the kitchen, prepping some vegetables for dinner. He had a cookbook open on the counter. He also had enough time to change because he was now adorned in a black band t-shirt and a pair of shorts. It felt so domestic and homey she almost forgot she was in pain. Harry gave her a tentative smile. “At least stay for dinner, yeah?” He asked.
She nodded. “Okay, thank you.”
“Course, love.”
She went over to find her phone where she last left it and texted her message thread with Louis and Eleanor.
El, are you around this weekend?
Sorry, love. We’re heading to my mum’s this weekend. If it wasn’t for a birthday party, I would be right over to help you! Why don’t you stay with Harry...? :)
No worries, it’s no big deal!
I’ll ask him.
Ask him to fuck you too.
Thank you, Louis.
She groaned audibly.
“Y’okay, kitten? Are you in pain? Y’should take some more medicine,” Harry was too nice.
“M’fine,” she said. “Umm...I need to go home to get some clothes...if it’s okay, I think I will stay the weekend...if you don’t mind.”
Harry continued chopping the variety of veggies he had on the cutting board, and he didn’t want to overwhelm her, but he thought he might be smiling like a crazy person thinking about how he was going to spend the whole weekend with the pretty girl he liked so much. “Sure, kitten. Whatever y’need.”
She blew out a breath and she tossed her phone on the couch. “I know you’re busy with the food, could you help me sit again?” She asked rubbing a hand over her face in embarrassment.
Harry frowned more and wiped his hands on a kitchen towel before coming back to her. “How can I help, love?”
“I think we just reverse what we did for me to stand. Except I need to be sitting up more,” she said and held her hands out for Harry to take. Harry took them and she couldn’t help but notice that despite having literal second degree burns on her body, she thought the fire Harry started by holding her hands was hotter than the coffee that was spilled on her. Slowly, he lowered her to the soft cushions, and he apologized every time she winced in pain.
She sighed as she settled into place comfortably. Harry fluffed the pillows around her and lightly laid the blanket across her lap. He put the phone and remote in her hands and took her glass to refill. “M’sorry,” she muttered. She hadn’t really fully processed her injury. She was too shocked when it first happened, then embarrassed, and sleepy when she felt the comfort of his couch. Now that she was alone with Harry for the weekend, she was nervous. Harry brought her water glass back along with two pills for the pain. He didn’t want to hover, so he returned to the veggies.
“What are y’sorry for, beautiful?” He asked over his shoulder.
“For bothering you,” she mumbled quietly.
Harry frowned. “You’re no bother, love,” he promised. She didn’t say anything for a minute and Harry just went back to the veggies and then turned to the pantry to get the pasta he had for the dish. At that moment he heard her sniffle. He spun on his heel dropping the box of pasta on the floor. The box broke open and scattered all over the hardwood. He didn’t care. “Kitten?” He asked nervously and rushed to her side. He sat next to her and was heartbroken by the tears in her eyes. “Does it hurt too much? Do y’want t’go to the hospital t’get checked out?”
“No,” she sniffled. He reached out carefully and cupped her face.
“Angel, what’s wrong?” He was practically begging for the answer. Frowning, he took a deep breath. “I don’t want t’force you t’stay, love. If y’really don’t want to, I could take you t’your parents or another friend or something,” he suggested. “I jus’ wanna help you,” he promised.
The tears left her faster and she shook her head. The notion was worse. She didn’t want to think about how kind it was of Harry to have her stay. It wasn’t Louis and Eleanor’s fault or problem to take care of her and it wasn't their fault they couldn't take care of her. But she should have had more than two people who could help her.
But no one else but Harry could take care of her. “No, it’s...I’m fine,” she promised. “I...” she swallowed back the tears and Harry was so grateful he felt the smallest pressure of her leaning toward his hand.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he promised.
She hiccupped on a broken cry and turned from him. “I’m sorry. You’re so nice and helpful and this is...above and beyond what’s expected of you,” she didn’t look at him, but the only thing Harry could do was look at her.
“Love, I want t’take care of you,” he said quietly. “Please jus’—”
“When my brother died, my mom and dad started...” she shook her head and winced like it was fresh. Harry stopped speaking not fully understanding where this was headed, but here he was, holding his breath waiting for the rest of her speech. “They stopped taking care of me and... themselves. I left as soon as humanly possible. That’s why Louis is always around for me...he was so mad when he found out how they...” she trailed off unfortunately, so Harry had to use his imagination to imagine what happened. But he didn’t spend long on it because she was still sad, and still speaking. “I stopped having friends and that never really bothered me. No one really ever understood me like Louis and Eleanor anyway...but now...now I’m stuck bothering you and,” she let out shaky, gut-wrenching sob that felt like a literal tear in Harry’s heart. “I don’t even have parents that care about me,” she cried and covered her face.
Harry wanted to pull her into his lap and wrap her in a bubble and then a blanket and then himself. But he couldn’t because she was hurt and that hurt him. “Angel, m’sorry,” he hummed. He didn’t speak for a few more moments and just let her cry as she let out all her emotions. “I want t’take care of you. S’all I want,” he promised. He carefully turned her head toward him and he brushed the sad tears off her beautiful, perfect cheeks. “M’sorry, kitten,” he said and leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead. She sniffled against him and then sighed softly stifling all the cries she had with just a kiss to her forehead by quite possibly the sweetest man she had ever met.
*
Harry video chatted with her while he went to her apartment to get her belongings. “In hindsight, we should ‘ve brought y’here,” he smirked.
She smiled at him as he entered the darkened place. “Had enough of me now that I cried all that much?”
“You must be the most tragically funny girl I know,” he rolled his eyes ignoring her commentary. He didn’t know how someone so beautiful and lovely could have such low self-esteem. She giggled cutely as she directed Harry to her belongings and tried to find him a suitcase.
“You were the one that wanted me here,” she reminded him.
He paused his search for clothing for her and gazed directly into the camera. “Yes, kitten. I love being around you,” he promised. “Didn’t think you would want me t’invite myself over...or rather thought you would think you’re a bother if y’did. Inviting y’over ensures you’re not bothering me,” he had a goofy grin on his face that made her frustrated because he was entirely right. It almost seemed like a trick for him to be so cute and make such a comment that was so accurate. She was quiet for a second. Harry mistook her silence for pain or being upset. And he hated that. “Y’okay, love?”
She nodded silently. “Um...I didn’t really think this through, but m’gonna need some underwear so just open the top drawer, grab a handful and don’t look. And then T-shirts are in the third drawer. I have leggings and sweatpants in the fourth drawer.”
He chuckled as he followed her directions, even not looking in the drawer as he pulled out way more underwear than she needed for her few days stay. He threw them in her suitcase and then grabbed the other things she asked him to grab. “Do y’need anything else, kitten?” He asked.
“Can y’grab a couple books for me?”
“Course, anything else?”
Her makeup was still with her because of Eleanor along with most of her other toiletries. “No that will do it.”
“Alright, then m’on m’way back after I get the books,” she heard the zipper of her suitcase close and she realized that in the span of three years of dating and living with someone that she loved, he never would be doing what Harry was doing for her. In fact, she couldn’t imagine any guy blindly reaching into her underwear drawer if she wasn’t sleeping with them. There was no way she could have someone rifle through her apartment looking for things to make her feel better. “D’you want your laptop, too?” He asked. It made her heart flutter, and she cleared her throat awkwardly overcome by the realization and emotion.
“Uh, yeah. Yes, please.”
She could not fall in love with Harry.
*
At some point between dinner and watching The Good Place from the beginning so Harry could experience the chaos and drama, she fell asleep on the couch. Harry wasn’t one to read books or watch TV the way she asked when they put her bookshelves together. For a while, he was engrossed in the sitcom that had clearly stolen her heart.
But a slight little snore pulled him from his TV stupor. Once more Harry watched how beautiful she looked just sleeping. This time her neck was bent forward at an awkward angle since she was sitting up facing the TV. He admired her for a moment (only a short moment because he really was worried about her neck) and how much he liked having her there on the couch.
He just wished with everything in him that her body wasn’t burned.
He pressed the pause button on her show. “Hey, love?” He said shaking her very slightly. Just like this evening. “Let’s get you t’bed.”
Her eyes fluttered open, and she rubbed the back of her hand sleepily against her eye. Harry thought she was deliriously cute. But her frown deepened. “It hurts,” she mumbled.
Harry frowned. “Oh, kitten. M’sorry. I’ll get y’some more medicine,” he said getting up from the couch. She shifted uncomfortably.
She forgot he was her boss. She forgot he was paying her to just be there and that she was supposed to be sleeping with him or at least kissing him. Right now, all she could think about was how uncomfortable her skin was. “Harry,” she whined.
“I know, baby, I know,” he cooed. “I’m so sorry,” he hurried back to her side and put the medicine in her hand and waited for her to place the pills between her lips so he could give the glass of water to her. She was still in pain.
“Can’t I just stay here?” She asked practically whimpering.
“We have t’change the bandage, love. And at that point y’may as well be in a bed. I’m sorry.”
She sighed heavily. “Okay,” she whispered.
“I’m sorry, beautiful,” he said grabbing hold of her hands waiting to pull her to a standing position. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she waited for Harry to pull her up. With a good tug, Harry had her standing. Before she lost her balance though, he wrapped his arm around her back careful not to touch any part of her facing him.
“Ow, ow, ow,” she cried.
This was a terrible idea. He should have just let her sleep on the couch. But by morning it would be even worse. “I’m sorry, love,” he repeated. He felt so horrible she was in pain. In the light of the TV and the dimmed kitchen light over the island, he saw the sparkle of tears forming in the corners of her eyes. It broke his heart. They slowly walked down the hall, her sniffles the only sound.
“Harry,” she whispered when they made it to the bedroom. She didn’t know if it was Harry’s. It was beautifully furnished, but it hardly looked like someone lived in there. Her suitcase was laid flat on the floor under the window.
“Yes, love?”
She sighed. “I’m so embarrassed but you’re going to have to help me,” she mumbled.
“’Course, love.”
“You’re so going to regret picking me once you see how gross it is.”
He chuckled dryly. “I don’t think you’re gross at all, love. Please stop making fun of yourself. You’re breaking my heart.” She kept quiet until she was seated toward the middle of the bed, a little more awake and in less pain now that the medicine was working through her system. Harry turned on the lamp on the nightstand. The room glowed in a warm yellow-orange light. She liked this house so much she hoped Harry would let her come back again after seeing her gross body.
“Yeah, but the first time you’re going to see me mostly naked is when I have these burns all over me.”
He shrugged. “Then we’ll pretend s’the first time when you’re better and I can see y’naked for the right reasons,” he said simply. If her skin wasn’t already burning and aching with coffee scalds, she would have probably lit on fire right there at the words he spoke. She realized it was her own doing that she said the first time he sees her naked. Indicating there would be multiple times that he would see her naked. “This is purely medical,” he told her crouching in front of her legs ready to take her leggings off.
She was a bit shocked Harry was willing to compartmentalize like that. It made her a bit woozy. She was lucky she had the burns to blame. Harry was slow and careful getting her pants over her thighs. Once past them, it was easy to pull them off. She tried not to think about how Harry was her boss. But she was really grateful she shaved her legs this morning. Even if she had no intention of Harry seeing her naked when the day started.
“M'gonna do your shirt now, love, okay?” He asked. “S’all business.”
“That can mean a lot of things with you,” she muttered as she put her arms over her head as he tugged the shirt off. He chuckled at her. Harry didn’t seem to pay any mind to her body. It made her nervous that he hated it. He was probably too kind to say anything now. Especially since he already volunteered to take care of her for the weekend. She envisioned a text on Monday evening saying that he would no longer be paying her and needed to find a new place to stay.
“Lay down,” he nudged gently grabbing the petroleum jelly and coming over to kneel beside her on the bed. “Y’okay, in there, love?” He asked gently tapping on her temple with a smirk. He started with her thighs—they would heal fastest, she was sure. The jelly was so cool compared to her hot skin and Harry was so gentle it felt nearly sinful. She sighed with relief before she tried to answer him. He moved along to her hips and she would have to remember to thank Eleanor for grabbing a basic pair of bikini underwear that covered everything.
“Uh...yeah.”
“Convincing.”
She sighed. “I...I’m assuming you hate my body,” she said glancing at him nervously. He snorted at her remark.
“I liked y’first answer more,” he rolled his eyes. “Why would y’think that?”
“Well,” she shrugged. “M’not really a huge fan,” she explained looking back up and avoiding his eyes. “I really don’t know why you picked me in the first place,” it was easy to talk to his ceiling fan. “I think I’m quite ordinary looking,” Harry carefully removed the bandage that Eleanor put in place and the air touching the most sensitive part of her injury stung. She saw Harry frown as he looked at it. It must have been worse looking than she thought. “And I know it’s confusing because I just said I was nervous and asked you to pretend, but—
“I don’t really know what scenario I would be taking y’clothes off that wasn’t for sex or a medical purpose, but I think your body is beautiful and if I didn’t have a purpose t’take care of y’right now, I would strongly consider not sleeping tonight jus’ t’ook at y’for eight hours while y’sleep. There’s nothing ordinary about you. You’re extremely sexy.” She was stunned and silent. She didn’t expect him to say that. Certainly, didn’t expect him to carry on as if he didn’t. But she hadn’t a clue what to say after his confession. “Burns and all,” he finished. Harry continued taking care of her quietly, while she couldn’t do anything but look at the ceiling fan. Now it really felt medical. She winced audibly when his fingers brushed over the blistering burns. “Sorry, love,” he murmured. “Alright, all done. I’ll be right back.”
She watched him leave and she laid there letting the ointment dry a bit. She heard the water in the kitchen turn on and he seemed to grab a few other things. He returned to put a water bottle and book on the side table. He had gauze and bandages as well.
“Thank you,” she whispered. She wiggled awkwardly toward the pillows trying not to get the oil of the jelly all over the sheets. Harry helped by pulling the bed spread and sheet under her butt as she slid toward the top of the bed.
“I still want t’fire him,” he said knowingly, fluffing the pillows around her as if this was a completely normal moment for the two of them.
She rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t his fault.”
He shrugged. “He hurt you,” he reminded her.
“It was an accident. I’m as much to blame.”
He shook his head. “M’not arguing with you.”
“Harry?” She asked quietly. Harry found the remote for the TV in the little drawer and sat it next to her book. He grabbed the gauze and bandage and got to work on the sensitive injuries. It felt so intimate. So personal. It was wildly awkward. She wished he would get in the bed on the other side. She bet if she asked, he would.
“Yes, kitten? Can I get y’something?” He murmured, focused on making sure he didn’t bandage too tight or snag any part of the burn with tape so that it would be a nightmare to get off in the morning. His concentration was adorable. She was definitely not falling in love with him.
“Thank you.”
Harry’s smile was so lovely she could have cried. It was so gentle. So beautiful. She wished she wasn’t so hurt right now because all she wanted to do was snuggle with him and maybe actually let him see her naked. Definitely not in love. He leaned over the bed and slid one hand along her cheek and tangled his fingers in her hair beside her ear. “Of course, love,” he said and pressed one of those perfect kisses he had been giving her to her forehead.
Well, he would have.
But she bravely tilted her head up at the last second so their lips touched. It was the briefest of seconds but enough to cause a tingle in her lips. It barely lingered long enough for her to even feel it before Harry yanked back nervously, almost losing his footing as he knocked the water bottle off the nightstand.
She pouted feeling like an idiot. “Oh,” she said looking away. “Sorry,” she muttered embarrassedly. Of course, he didn’t want to kiss her after caring for her gross body. It was a dumb idea, and she was hoping she could blame her actions on her injury and the need for sleep to recover.
He couldn’t believe how upset she sounded or how dejected she looked. As if Harry hadn’t spent hours awake at night imagining what it would be like to kiss her from the moment he met her.
Carefully aware of where she was situated, he sat beside her, careful not to touch or shift her aching body parts. “Kitten, y’surprised me,” he chuckled and placed both hands on either side of her neck and his thumbs gently brushed over her cheeks. He was so gentle with her it made her so weak. Swallowing the embarrassment of being rejected momentarily as it dissipated from the air, she glanced nervously into his eyes. He chuckled again. “If I knew y’were gonna kiss me, I wouldn’t have pulled away,” he promised seeing the worry in her eyes. His perfect face was so close she swore even though it was dimly lit, he never looked more handsome than he did at midnight, an inch from her face, ready to kiss her. “M’gonna try that again, yeah?”
She nodded eagerly, cheeks warming beneath his thumbs stroking her face. Harry leaned forward brushing his lips against hers so perfectly she thought that if she died because of his kiss, it would be the best and only way to go. His lips were so soft, it felt like kissing two little pillows. She felt woozy from how fast her heart was beating and all he did was apply the slightest pressure to her mouth. She moaned softly against him, and he smirked pressing another perfect kiss against her lips. He pecked at them a few more times, almost like he didn’t want to move to far from her mouth (he didn’t). Eventually, he pulled back just a bit so he could kiss the tip of her nose and then the one kiss he meant to place on her forehead.
She smiled slightly and thought about where she was just a mere three months ago. Her ex would never take care of her like this. Lord knew her parents wouldn’t either. But this man that happened to like her profile was perhaps the only person outside her family (Louis and El included in her familial statement) that had ever cared for her in this capacity.
“I’ll let y’sleep now, kitten,” he whispered. “Sleep well,” he pressed one more gentle, sweet kiss on her lips, picked up the water bottle he knocked over, and turned the light off before he left the room.
*
Saturday passed in a lazy blur. Harry was very mindful of her movements and despite his insistence, she didn’t let him stay in the bathroom while she showered. The blistered burns seemed to take well to the jelly and the more minor burns were red in color but the initial sting was gone, indicating they were well on their way to healing. “I can probably get out of your hair tonight. That way you can have your home back when you go to work tomorrow,” she said eating the omelet and home fries Harry made her. “Do you like cooking?” She asked casually. “You’re very good at it.”
He frowned. He really enjoyed having her around. Especially now that they had moved onto the kissing phase of their relationship. He really enjoyed that. “What makes y’think I want y’out of my hair.”
She sipped her chocolate milk that she insisted on making. Chocolate milk is a breakfast staple. She had insisted when she stirred a glass for him as well. “Well...I took up all your free time this weekend,” she shrugged. “On top of that you waited on me hand and foot and I was really needy.”
Other than the first night when she was in so much pain, she had hardly been needy. Harry loved having her around. It was like playing house with her. The need to have her there all the time was so strong. He woke up to her in his dining area looking at her laptop playing music from her phone. He thought he might pass out from how perfect it felt to see her there, so at ease.
“Y’weren’t needy,” he mumbled biting into his own omelet. “I like having y’here.”
She smiled sweetly. After kissing it seemed she was little more at ease with his compliments. “Harry,” she said gently. It almost sounded like the way someone says we need to talk. But it was just his name. It pulled bitterly at his heartstrings.
“Yeah, love?”
“I know I’m new at this...but you’re not. Do you usually have...companions here for extended stays without...” she trailed off looking down at her plate. “Without having sex?” She asked quietly before she looked back at Harry with blushed cheeks.
For the last forty-eight hours, Harry nearly forgot he was paying her money to spoil her and have her in his life. He forgot the arrangement they financially agreed to. And he forgot that it was quite different than all the other ones. Part of him was grateful he forgot because that meant she was asking as his companion. He was misinterpreting her reasoning, it wasn’t because she wanted to leave as just a girl. In all the picture-perfect weekend moments (injury aside) she was just a girl in his house, and he wanted her to stay, and she wasn’t getting on his nerves for that. “Oh,” he shook his head clearing all his thoughts trying to remember where he wanted this conversation to go. “Uh...no,” he shook his head in response to her. “No I didn’t,” he admitted.
She smirked wryly. “I don’t want to overstep,” she said softly. “I appreciate you taking care of me, but...it’s not fair for me to...take your money when all we’ve done is kissed a few times and you’ve done all this caretaking.”
He felt like his heart might break. He seriously considered just...not paying her anymore and asking her to move in like some sort of love-sap psychopath. “I don’t mind, love...you’re...different.”
“All the more reason I shouldn’t stay,” she said softly. “I...can’t be caught sleeping at my boss’s boss’s house,” she wrinkled her nose cutely. It was hard to be sad or mad when she looked so goddamn adorable. He hated that the reason she thought she was different was simply because he worked at his company.
He wanted her to know it was because she was the most beautiful person he had met.
“M’not even gonna be home tomorrow...y’would have the whole place t’yourself,” he bargained.
She bit the inside of her lip and tilted her head at him. He sat across from her, and it was so domestic. Like they were playing house. It broke her heart a bit that she had to leave. She kind of wanted to stay. Especially after all the kindness Harry showed her. Other than Louis, she was rarely treated so perfectly by a guy...and even with Louis it was all brotherly. She wished she just met him at work and not online. It put a whole damper on the whole...situation. “I just don’t want to overwhelm you.”
Harry was not against begging. He was about to start when he thought of a different angle. “Y’said you’d be friends with me if I wasn’t paying you, yeah?” He asked.
“Yes,” she said tentatively. It was literally like a business deal. Like the one they had when he first messaged her nearly two and a half months ago. She was hedging her bets and Harry was prepared to make any deal he had to, just to get what he wanted. All for her to stay one more measly day with him—especially when he wasn’t going to be home and he just wanted to come home and make dinner for her.
“Can’t y’stay as my friend?”
She smirked. “Do you have Niall stay for days at a time and make him breakfast, lunch, and dinner?”
Harry thought there was something in her perfume or pheromones that made him an idiot. That, or she was much smarter than he gave her credit for—and he knew she was brilliant. But that was an easy deflection, a simple counter to his request and he didn’t see it coming at all so he assumed it was the former and her pheromones were like some kind of drug that turned his brain into mush. “No,” he sighed.
“I don’t want to leave, Harry,” she told him. “I like kissing you and I’ve actually rather enjoyed the waiting on me part. I just feel bad because I can’t reciprocate anything with all these disgusting burns,” she was finished with her omelet, and she popped a fried potato into her mouth so casually. It really was a business deal.
Harry knew that. At the heart of all of this, it was a business deal. He was paying her to be in his life.
He regretted it. No if ands or buts about it. He was quiet for a while as he pondered her argument. He wasn’t sure he could continue bargaining with her. “Well...I want y’here. Can y’at least stay so I can make y’dinner one more time?” He asked. There was no use in arguing. She made more sense than he did and he would remember that when it came to hiring at the end of her internship.
But he was really looking forward to waking up to her still in his house when he left tomorrow and returning home to her in the evening.
“What kind of multi-millionaire doesn’t have a chef?” She asked, again, so casually. As if she hadn’t just severed Harry’s heart in two.
*
“Uh...love...do y’mind if I spend an hour or two in m’office tending to a few things?” He asked. “They’re pressing, apparently,” he said looking at his phone. They were back on the couch. She could get up and move now on her own and she was watching Harry’s reactions for all the funny parts in the show. It was a lot easier to talk to him now that they had kissed. Maybe it was because she felt like it was something in part to the relationship they had. She got a little too involved in watching her own favorite show because she hadn’t realized Harry wasn’t watching. She paused the show.
“You’re not seriously asking me if you can work in your own house, are you?”
He chuckled at her reaction. “I don’t want t’be rude, kitten.”
She shook her head. “I’ll be fine. Go ahead...let me know if you need help,” she smirked.
Harry had a hard time getting off the couch and leaving her. Especially when he knew he only had hours left with her now that she would be leaving tonight. She pulled the book she was reading off the side table and settled it into her lap. Again, he was overcome with how goddamn cute and perfect she looked in his home, reading in the main room while he was about to work.
He walked behind the couch and sneakily tilted her head back and kissed her in one motion before she had time to notice what was happening. When he pulled away, he smirked and gave her another gentle kiss before tilting her head back up. “Enjoy your book,” he said climbing the stairs to his office.
*
It was approaching three hours that he was still working on calls and other work when he was getting antsy that he hadn’t heard a peep from the pretty girl waiting for him downstairs. The idea that she left without saying goodbye was making him cranky.
God, she was going to take down his company if she got a new job at the end of this internship and left him for any extensive amount of time.
“Okay, I’ll deal with it tomorrow morning. First thing. Have a good night,” he said and hung up. He barely closed his laptop and rushed downstairs to find her gone. He hurried to her room (and the idea that it was her room was not lost on him), thinking she had gone to nap.
But the bed was made perfectly. He could have bounced a coin off it. Even her suitcase was missing. He frowned and felt like he might melt into a puddle of heartbreaking sadness. He wasn’t even angry at her; he was just annoyed that she didn’t say goodbye. Not even a text. Maybe some emergency came up and she just left, that would be understandable.
He made his way back to the main room not seeing any evidence of her. How someone who could hardly walk thirty-six hours ago left without a trace or a sound in a matter of three hours was nearly impressive. If he wasn’t so sad, he would have called her immediately and told her such.
Just as he was about to call her to ask why she left without saying goodbye, he saw the movement on the porch outside—she was waving to someone. Must have been one of his neighbors. As low and sad as his heart was seconds ago, it was just as equally happy. He left his phone on the table and headed to the door. He slid it out of the way and moved around to the front of the swing where she was reading cutely. Her finger paused her spot on the page and she looked up at Harry. “Hi, Harry,” she smiled.
Harry would never be mad at her for as long as he lived. He was certain.
“Hey love, aren’t y’chilly?” He asked.
She shook her head. “No, just a blanket and a book, I’m all good,” she grinned. “I wanted some fresh air."
"I thought you left."
She frowned. "Without saying goodbye?"
Harry was in love with her. So deeply. "I didn't see your suitcase."
"I put it in the bathroom for an easier time showering," she said simply.
"Oh."
"Do you want to sit? Or do you want to watch more TV?”
He wanted to sit and stare at her for the rest of the day. Maybe well into the week, too. “I don’t want t’interrupt..."
She shook her head, folding the corner of the page before closing her book. “Of course not,” she said softly and then she patted the seat beside her. Harry wasted no time sitting beside her. She lifted his arm around her shoulders and pressed herself firmly into his side. “I love it out here,” she smiled. “I’ve always wanted a porch swing,” she giggled. “I love your house,” she said again.
Harry thought it might be a bit ridiculous if he bought her a bunch of porch swings. The sentiment was there, though. He would have. “Thank you, kitten.”
“So...I know we don’t have the most...traditional of relationships as it were,” she started. Harry was really starting to dislike talking about their circumstances. He just wanted to hang out with her all the time and probably marry her and kiss her until he died. Was that too much to ask? “How...how do these usually end?”
Forget dislike, he hated this. “I usually end it,” he told her. He liked being honest with her, but honesty about this might ruin him. He was glad she wasn’t looking at him. Just pressed to his side, he thought he might have exploded while answering that question if she wasn’t so closely snuggled up to him.
“Oh good,” she said simply.
He snorted. Her responses were almost never what he thought they were going to be. “Why is that good?”
“Oh, I’ll never end this,” she smirked. “I’m all yours until you don’t want me. I don’t want to date another guy as long as I live.”
He loved the first part of her statement. The idea that she was all his was more exciting than he could describe—especially given that he was merely going to propose by the end of her internship which he assumed would likely mean the end of this companionship too. Probably by Christmas at this rate. He frowned at the latter part, however, because it may pose a problem for him later. “Kitten, y’can’t let some idiot ruin love for y’like that.”
She sighed. “I know...Eleanor said the same thing...I guess she has a friend that has a friend that would be perfect for me, so she says,” she rolled her eyes. “I told her to tell them I’m in a relationship.” The roller coaster of emotions this girl spoke into existence for Harry was going to give him a heart attack at the ripe old age of 29. “So, I was just wondering,” she said. “Sorry for saying it’s a relationship. I promise I know it’s not.”
She was apologizing for all the wrong reasons. “S’okay. Happy t’cover for you,” he murmured hoping he didn’t sound as disappointed as he felt.
“I know I don’t have a lot of power given you’re the one with all the money—but if...if you start sleeping with someone else, can you just let me know? I’m not sure I’m all that comfortable with it just because of...ya know...diseases and stuff. Not that I think you’d knowingly give me something! I don’t think you’re...oh Jesus,” she said putting a hand over her face. He chuckled. Listening to her talk and trying to piece together where she was headed with her reasoning and line of questioning was easily becoming one of his favorite things about her even if the questions weren’t always what he wanted to hear.
He was never right when he tried to guess, though. “Kitten, I am very cautious ‘bout that sort of thing. I wouldn’t do that t’anyone. Especially not you,” he promised.
“Okay,” she said and then tilted her head up to look at him. “Thank you for being so honest with me, you don’t have to be...so it means a lot,” she reached up and brushed her thumb over his cheek. Harry still thought he was going to have a heart attack because of her. But it might be for simply being the sweetest being he had ever met and nothing more.
He hated that she was going to leave after dinner. “Are y’sure you don’t want t’stay the night?”
“No...I figure if we’re going to have dinner tomorrow I should let you have some time to yourself before—”
“Dinner tomorrow?” He interrupted, feeling the somersault of his heart once more.
“Oh, sorry, do you have plans? I just assumed we always get dinner on Monday. I figured—”
“No, no,” he smiled knowing that even if she left tonight and he wouldn’t see her at work, he would still see her tomorrow. He had no idea that she had thought their...dates...were regular. He loved that. Hopefully he was hiding the fact that he faltered, overwhelmed with relief that she really wasn’t leaving because she was sick of Harry. “You’re right. I have t’make a reservation for somewhere...anything you’re in the mood for?”
She shook her head. “Now that I’ve had your cooking, I don’t know how I’ll be able to eat anything. You’ve effectively ruined breakfast outings for me. I think if this whole Styles Incorporated thing doesn’t work out, you should open a restaurant--maybe you can keep the same name. No one will know.”
He chuckled, rubbed his hand up and down her arm that was wrapped around her and he leaned down to kiss the top of her head. “I’ll keep that in mind, love.”
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Nothing like being quarantined in June of 2023 to get a little timely writing done. I hope you enjoy this part, I feel like it's moving a little too slowly but I promise I have some pretty good plans and I hope you'll find it's worth the wait.
Accidentally a little close to 6K words, whoops. Read the rest here: Traditional
She simply didn’t believe that Harry liked her like that. There was no way. He simply paid her to be around, and he worried about her the way someone worries about their car...or their expensive electronics. “No way.”
She took a deep breath as the driver stopped in front of Harry’s home. It was her first time here and while she thought Harry had been nothing but a gentleman over the last month, she also knew this was his home and that meant it was his rules. Added to the fact that Niall touched her (albeit in a friendly way), she thought she might not make it out of here.
She opened the car door and started up the pathway to the front door. The only time Harry ever let her open her own door was when he wasn’t around. For the evening she decided on her favorite pair of black jeans. They were stretchy and comfy despite being jeans. They went with everything too. And instead of a zipper there were just three buttons. Per her personality, she didn’t think she looked good in much, but these were all but magic jeans that (objectively) made her butt look good. She paired the good jeans with a plain bright blue T-shirt. Nothing special. Harry said dress comfortably.
She knocked twice on the door swallowing a lump in her throat.
It was as if Harry was waiting by the door because her hand hadn’t even made its way back to her side. She released a breath she was holding as Harry smirked at her. “Hey beautiful,” he hummed sweetly. The idea that a man as gorgeous as Harry Styles looked at her jeans and t-shirt ensemble and still called her beautiful was enough to make her pass out. He didn’t seem the same bit as irritated as he was earlier. Maybe she wouldn’t get an earful after all.
“Hi.”
“Y’nervous?” He asked.
She nodded. “Very.”
“Y’know you’re supposed t’be nervous because m’your boss’s boss not because of this. This was my choice.”
“Both were your choice.”
“I already told you, love, Niall picked you,” she twitched very slightly at Niall’s name. Harry of course noticed. His smirk deepened. “C’mon,” he tilted his head toward the inside. Sliding past him, she heard the door click shut behind him.
Harry’s house was pretty big for one person. She liked how open it was: the staircase was right in front of the door. It led to a little area that overlooked the main room. Almost like a loft. The main room flowed into a dining room and the kitchen, side by side. All rooms were still very open. She of course didn’t know which rooms were down the hall, but it was honestly the home she dreamed of. She could see through the slider he had a big back yard and a porch swing looking over the yard.
Whenever this thing with her and Harry ended, she would have to kindly ask for the floorplans. This place was perfect. She was in awe he was willing to slum it in her small (but no less beautiful—he did pick it out after all) apartment for the last month.
“Y’okay, love?” He asked, leaning against the kitchen island while she looked around the rooms. It was sparsely decorated. Anne and Gemma were always on him about that. But he was waiting for someone to decorate it for him...someone like her.
“This house is beautiful.”
He chuckled. “Thank you, kitten.”
“I want the floor plans,” no time like the present to ask.
He wanted to say there was no need for her to have them. He wanted to say the house was all hers. It didn’t even feel like home until she stepped inside. She hadn’t even sat down yet, and Harry could hardly breathe, feeling how whole he felt with just her presence gazing out the window. Harry nearly proposed because the idea of her living in a house without him seemed ridiculous. He grinned. “Will do, love...can I get you something t’drink?”
*
They ended up on the porch swing after dinner. She kicked her shoes and held the glass of wine in her hands. Tomorrow was Saturday so she didn’t seem to mind drinking today. Harry made her Ramen, and they ate it at the table before moving outside. “You’re a very good cook,” she told him to which he smiled so brightly at the compliment she thought she might go blind.
With one foot tucked under her and the other one dangled over the edge, her toe was barely touching the ground. Harry, with the longest legs in the world was flat footed on the ground, gently rocking the pair of them. Harry was so close to her she could feel the warmth radiating off of him. “Are y’warm enough, kitten?” He asked. Every time they were together, he worried she would be freezing all so she wouldn’t inconvenience him.
She nodded. “Wine makes me warm,” she smirked.
He chuckled. “Good.” They sat silently for a bit. Listening to the sounds of the outdoors. Harry scrolled on his phone for a moment, something he hated to do while he was with her, but he couldn’t help it much when he was constantly getting notifications about his business. “Sorry, love,” he said softly as he checked on one important notification.
“It’s really okay,” she promised sipping her wine. “I feel bad I’m here interrupting your evening to begin with.”
He frowned and put his phone back in his pocket. “Kitten, you’re so confident at work...and y’should be of course...how come you’re so hard on yourself outside of work?”
She shrugged. “I know I’m good at working, I’m not very good at the whole relationship thing...obviously. Even more so the whole companionship thing either.”
His frown deepened and he watched as she sipped from her glass. She cradled it in both hands nervously rubbing her thumbs along the sides. “I don’t know what y’mean by ‘obviously.’”
“Well, I was previously in a relationship for three years but the reason it ended is because I caught him fucking another woman in our bed,” she said bluntly. Harry’s eyebrows perked up. He hadn’t heard her swear once since he’d known her. “I would assume that was because I wasn’t good enough...so now I’m not sure I know how to be a girlfriend...I feel like I certainly don’t know how to be a companion.”
Harry put his hand to his mouth, trying to think of all the words he wanted to say next. “Love, your ex is a proper idiot,” he said. “His...unfaithfulness has nothing t’do with you. He is so wrong for losing you,” Harry let the words sit between them for a few moments. She was quiet. Harry waited for her to say something or to let the emotions filter through her brain. In a matter of a month, she had a boyfriend, didn’t have a boyfriend, started an internship, a companionship, and moved into a new apartment. There couldn’t have been much time for her to process everything.
Harry didn’t care if they sat there the rest of the night. She needed to know that, and she needed to know she was perfect. Her ex was a complete moron for losing her. Harry wasn’t even dating her, and he was ready to kiss the ground she walked on just to exist. Eventually, she bit her lip and quietly whispered to him. “Thank you.”
He didn’t need a thank you. So he continued his assurance that she was all but angelic. “As for this,” he gestured between the two of them. “I know ’ve only known you a month...and I know you’re new at this, but you’re lovely. I really believe that. There aren’t really rights or wrongs when it comes t’this,” he promised.
“I haven’t even slept with you yet...let alone kiss you,” she muttered. “I’m the worst at this.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Have you done this before?”
There was a beat of silence. Harry didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable but he would rather die than lie to her. “A couple times,” he admitted. “Not in a few years.”
She nodded. “How come...you don’t make me sleep with you?”
He snorted at the implication. “Kitten.”
“Well,” she rolled her eyes. “I mean...you could...not pay me. This could be over.”
He could just tell her right now that he was in love with her. More than the first day he met her. Harry didn’t believe in love at first sight. He had dated a good amount before her. No one ever took his breath away like she did, so he was certain it had to be love. Harry never got jealous before today...especially because of his best friend. “Do y’want it t’be over?” He decided to ask instead.
She shook her head. “I don’t know how to say this without putting my foot in my mouth so I’m just going to say it and know I’m not trying to offend you,” she paused and looked at him for a moment. He nodded his head. “Despite our arrangement, I’m really glad I met you. I like hanging out with you. And I think you’re right...I wouldn’t have found someone as nice as you if you didn’t come along.”
He smirked. “And outbid them?” He winked.
“That’s not why I picked you,” she rolled her eyes. “I told you what I wanted.” They sat quietly side by side, rocking gently for another moment. In all her efforts to avoid the topic of Niall, she felt she had no choice but to ask herself. “Did you tell Niall about us?” She asked.
He shook his head. “I want to, though.”
She frowned. “Any way I could convince you otherwise?” She asked tentatively. She tapped out a rhythm on her glass with her fingertips.
He chuckled and shook his head. “He’s very discreet. And he already knows you,” Harry reminded her. “Wouldn’t it be nice not t’hide it with someone at work?”
“Isn’t he going to look at me like I’m...”
“He’s not going t’look at y’like anything but you, love.”
She sighed. “It’s your show,” she shrugged.
“I won’t tell him if y’don’t want me to,” he answered with a shrug of his own.
She turned to him, her foot that was previously tucked under her, fell back toward the ground. “You won’t?”
He sipped his own glass of wine. “If s’gonna make you uncomfortable, of course not.”
She sucked her lip into her mouth. “I’ve never met any guy like you before, Harry.”
He smiled. “Is that a good thing?”
“I think it might be my favorite thing.”
The idea that any part of Harry’s personality was her favorite anything had him nearly bubbling with excitement. He wanted to kiss her for the rest of the night and maybe all day tomorrow too. “You can tell Niall...he is your best friend.”
He could feel his face smiling so much he looked at the glass in his hands. He would tell Niall tomorrow when they golfed bright and early. “Do y’like Niall?” He asked quietly.
“I do,” she said and Harry thought he might die. His heart seemed to stop beating all together. “He’s my boss. He’s a great teacher and—”
Harry shook his head and swallowed a bit nervously. He didn’t want her to like him. “No...love...I mean...” he trailed off.
She tilted her head at him in confusion and then at once her eyebrows shifted up in surprise. “Harry,” she said softly.
“Look,” he started. “I...I don’t think you’re like this, but ’ve had girlfriends and companions only like me for m’money and they don’t...” he shook his head. “If y’like Niall I just want t’know.”
She frowned, thought for a moment and then leaned toward Harry and quickly pecked him on the cheek. Like an absolute child he thought about never washing his cheek again. She rested her head against his arm and Harry tried to stay perfectly still so as not to move out of this perfect position. Eventually, she shook her head. “If...if you stopped paying me, I’d still want t’be friends. I don’t like Niall like that, I promise.”
His heart soared. “You would?” He asked.
“Do you have any friends besides Niall? Or are all your friends paid for?” She giggled cutely.
He chuckled at her joke. “I have other friends.”
“I’d...like to meet them sometime, if that’s possible.”
Harry didn’t know how to tell her she would meet them at their wedding, so he just said, “sure thing, kitten.”
*
Harry didn’t really know how to broach the topic to Niall, so he just went for it. Right as he took one of his first swings. “Are you kidding me, Harry!?” He shouted. “You messed up my shot!” Smirking, Harry leaned a bit on his club waiting for Niall to process the words he said. “How much do you pay her?”
“None of your business.”
“I would have been your companion if I knew you’d pay me more.”
“You’re not my type,” he said unaffected by Niall’s quip. “You still make more than her,” he shrugged. Harry knew it wasn’t about that though. “She didn’t even want that much. She just wanted enough t’pay for her apartment.”
“This is proof you don’t pay attention to me when I send the intern information to you,” Niall noted.
“I trust you,” he rolled his eyes lining up his tee to take his shot. “You had no idea?”
Niall shook his head. He waited quietly and patiently for Harry to swing. “I thought you just liked her.”
“Well, I do,” he admitted. “A lot.”
Niall rolled his eyes. “You sure know how to make everything the most complicated thing in the world.”
“We all have our talents, Niall,” he deadpanned. Snorting Niall shook his head putting his club back into the bag and getting into the golf cart. “She’s nervous you’ll treat her different.”
“If I didn’t know for the last month, I would say it doesn’t affect her work ethic or anything. I wouldn’t treat her differently if you told me before.”
Harry nodded. “Good.” They were quiet as they got to their next shots and finished the hole. Gathering their belongings, Harry drove them to the next one. “I really like her,” he told him.
Niall could tell that Harry really liked her. He never got too attached to girls or wispy about them. He certainly didn’t concoct a day of golf for Niall to talk about them. As Harry’s best friend he was very grateful he had found someone he liked so much. Even if it was naturally complicated. Niall smirked. “Good for you,” he said almost if he was congratulating Harry. “You deserve a nice, sweet, girl,” he told him. “I will take full credit at the wedding that you wouldn’t have met her if I didn’t pick her to be my intern.”
Harry rolled his eyes and chuckled at his friend as they got ready for the next hole.
But there was no way Harry could deny how dreamy it felt to think about marrying the pretty girl.
*
During her Starbucks runs she always forwarded the office phone to her cellphone. Carrying the tray containing Niall and Harry’s drinks, she had her shoulder pressed to hold the phone in place next to her ear. Additionally, she picked up a bunch of documents for Niall at the print shop and since then it had been nonstop phone calls. So, her hands were full. She thanked the man on the elevator for pressing the button for her and hurried off to settle the items down.
She turned the corner to her office, and it took her several moments after the fact to realize what happened. She heard someone screaming and it was a full minute before she noticed it was herself that screamed. “Holy shit,” she didn’t know the guy that bumped into her. In a daze she thought that maybe she had never seen him before this very moment. But her skin was burning, the empty coffee cups were on the floor and the documents were everywhere.
All she could manage to think about was how glad she was she wore pants and a chunky sweater today.
She was gasping like the air wasn’t coming fast enough and was still unsure why. “Darling?” Niall was suddenly there shoving him out of the way, he put his hands on her shoulders and tried to gather the attention of her eyes. She had to be in shock. All she knew was that she was in so much pain. “Hey, you’re okay. It’s okay,” he promised calmly. He was assessing the situation, looking her up and down seeing if he could figure out how to help so she didn’t get sent into a full-blown panic. It seemed she already was and of course Niall didn’t blame her. Her skin was probably burning. She was covered in hot liquid. Her clothes soaked and probably burning her skin. It didn’t get her face, just her shirt seemed to take the brunt of it and she was so glad she opted for a thicker sweater this chilly fall morning. It very well could have been the difference between a first and second degree burn that was still stinging her skin. Niall gently tugged her through the puddle of liquid at their feet ruining her cute shoes. Niall didn’t even pay any mind to his polished dress shoes getting splashed with coffee. His only concern seemed to be her. “Come on, let’s get you—”
“What happened?”
She had never heard Harry sound like that before in the two and a half months she was interning. The din of background noise stopped at the sound of his voice. Everyone was silent. Obviously, he never sounded like that outside of work either. She was certain it reset her shocked brain. Inhaling deeply, she ignored the sting of her shirt sticking to her burned skin. Definitely first or second degree. “M’okay,” she managed but she was trying so hard not to cry in pain in front of literally everyone that came out of their offices to hear her scream and then Harry’s angry tone. He shoved Niall roughly out of the way and she swore she saw Niall smirk at his friend. It almost made her smile, but she was in too much pain to focus on it now. She knew that Niall knew, but true to Harry’s words, Niall made no implication that it changed her relationship with him. Niall pretended like he didn’t know. Or if he wanted to mention it, he didn’t seem to care. Harry grabbed her by the wrist after ensuring it was okay to touch her by a quick scan of noting it was probably the only part of her that wasn’t in pain.
Harry wanted to kill himself for ordering a hot beverage.
“I’m so sorry,” the man that bumped into her whispered.
“You can shut up,” Harry snapped. She couldn’t say anything because she was still in pain and still trying to process anything that happened. “You, pack your stuff,” he snarled directly to the man that she still didn’t even know his name. He blanched at the notion. She gaped.
“That’s not—”
“Let’s go,” he snapped not letting her finish. He marched her away from the puddle of hot liquid and down to his office.
Niall followed behind, grabbing her phone off the floor before it was submerged in tea and coffee. “Don’t pack yet,” she heard him mutter to the poor guy.
“Mr. Styles,” she whispered just in case anyone was listening. She didn’t like to call him Harry in front of anyone except Niall. She knew others weren’t given the privilege and she didn’t want to be treated differently. “Please slow down,” she begged. While her upper body definitely was in worse shape than her legs that were mostly protected by her pants, the stinging pain of her burns amplified as her clothing brushed painfully against her skin. “It hurts,” she croaked. Harry’s hand loosened his grip on her wrist and he slowed his pace breathing out in nearly heavy pants. “M’okay,” she promised.
Harry wanted to scoop her in his arms and carry her the rest of the way. The last ten meters seemed endless as he watched her walk carefully to his office. She was trying not to cry, and it made Harry want to set himself on fire just to see her in pain.
Niall followed behind a few moments later just as she got to the door and Harry slammed the door shut to his office. “You can’t fire him, Harry,” Niall rolled his eyes.
“Look at her,” he snapped. “What do y’need, angel?” He cooed, he cupped her face and she felt so embarrassed that Niall was right there to see it all. This would surely make him treat her differently. Somehow, despite all the burns, Harry calling her angel and touching her face was enough to turn her cheeks warm against Harry’s cool hands. She wanted him to touch all over her aching skin. The duality of his tone between Niall and her was so shocking she forgot how to speak. “Should I take her to the hospital?” He asked Niall.
She shook her head quickly. “M’fine,” she promised bravely the tears still stinging the back of her eyes as much as her skin.
Niall was looking at his phone. “You’re supposed to rinse in barely warm water, darling. Should be cold, really.”
Harry turned away from her for the first time and hurried to the closet of his office that she never really paid any mind to. But as she watched Harry the closet was actually a bathroom and if she wasn’t in so much pain, she probably would have made a joke about it. He started grabbing a towel and all kinds of spa things. “I don’t have any clothes,” she said softly to Niall. Her cheeks felt like they were reddening by the second. This was so embarrassing. “Can I have my phone?” She sniffled. He held it out to her tentatively, having wiped it off on his leg of any last coffee. She would have to get his clothes dry cleaned. She tapped on Eleanor’s number.
“Hey love, how’s your day?” Louis answered the phone. It wasn’t uncommon. They often had their lunch breaks together since they worked a mere block away from one another.
“Louis, I need Eleanor to bring me some clothes,” she mumbled looking at Harry making sure everything was in place from the open door.
“Ooh, finally let Harry fuck your brains out. How naughty you did it at work.”
She sniffled. “No...” she shook her head hating that she couldn’t laugh at his joke.
“Oh, hey, babe. What happened? Are you alright?” He asked.
Eleanor must have taken the phone from him. “What’s wrong?” She asked.
“S’nothing. I just need you to bring me clothes,” she sniffled, and the tears finally escaped. “Please.”
“Yeah, of course. Of course, love. What do you want?”
She didn’t want to wear anything, but she had to be professional. She wished she was by herself, and Niall and Harry weren’t in earshot. “I...I think I burned my whole body,” she whimpered. “El, it hurts,” she sniffled. “I...loose pants, a loose blouse,” she told her.
“Darling, you can wear something comfortable,” Niall said. “Don’t worry about the outfit,” he promised.
“Oh, love,” she cooed. “I got it, I got it. I’ll be right there, fifteen minutes. Just have someone send me the information I need,” she said.
“We’re on our way, love,” Louis promised taking the phone back for a moment before they hung up. She opened her phone to her message thread with Louis and Eleanor and handed it to Niall. “Can you just tell them how to get up here?” She asked.
“Yeah, of course,” he nodded. She told him what her passcode was in case the screen locked on him. Niall took a seat on the couch on the opposite side of Harry’s office.
“C’mere,” Harry said and gestured to the bathroom.
This had to be the most embarrassing day of her life. She slowly made her way toward the bathroom feeling like the stinging was now a permanent fixture on her body and after all the shock was officially out of her body it hurt more than it did five minutes ago. She was dreading the look at her skin. “Harry, you can’t fire him,” she said.
“It’s my company,” she could tell it was taking a lot of restraint from snapping at her.
“Please,” she begged. He didn’t respond but he saw the way his shoulders deflated just a hair.
“Louis and Eleanor are bringing you clothes?” He asked.
She nodded. “They’ll be here in ten minutes.” Harry closed the bathroom door. “Harry...” she said softly, nervously. He turned the water on in the shower and let it run.
“That should run for at least five minutes,” he told her.
Which just meant there would just be five minutes until Eleanor was here to help her. She leaned back against the counter, eyes closed, trying not to think about how much pain she was in. She supposed it was better than when it initially happened, but she kind of wished the shock was still there to keep her from noticing.
“Y’can probably get in now,” he told her.
Her face burned in embarrassment. “Harry,” she tried again.
“I won’t look. M’not leaving this room if you’re by yourself. If y’pass out, m’not letting you lay in the shower. Just until Eleanor gets here,” he promised. He turned around and faced the door. He stood there silently. Her chest ached almost as much as her skin. It drove her nuts that everyone on the entire floor knew she was in here with Harry and Niall. She was sure the rumors would be awful in a matter of moments. Harry still hadn’t seen her naked and she didn’t want at work to be the first place for it to happen.
“Kitten, please try,” he whispered quietly. “M’really upset you’re hurt,” he told her. He tilted his head back to look at the ceiling and she could hear how upset he sounded. It was like he was in pain from the burn almost as much as she was.
Assuming Harry wasn’t backing down she decided it was now or never. She sniffled and tried to reach for her shoes but immediately regretted it. She inhaled sharply and stood straight up. “Can you help me with my shoes? I can’t bend,” she whispered. He turned around immediately and knelt to the floor. He carefully picked her foot up, almost cradling her ankle. His fingers skimmed along her ankle strap and unbuckled it. She couldn’t believe how intimate it felt just for Harry to be holding her foot. Carefully he pulled her shoe off and then started on the other. Almost losing her balance she grabbed the counter.
Harry was wildly aware of what this looked like.
Which is why when Eleanor pushed the door open, gasped, then pulled it shut almost as quickly, Harry froze with his hand grasping her ankle. “Whoops, sorry,” she muttered outside the door. “Good for him,” she heard Louis say almost proudly.
She put a hand over her face to hide her embarrassment. She honestly thought Niall was probably thinking of ways to fire her solely for her friends being idiots. Harry smirked despite everything, and she was actually grateful for Louis’ joke at her expense because she hated the idea that Harry was upset because of her. “Suppose that’s m’cue,” he murmured.
“Great,” she sighed.
He stood up and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “M’glad you’re okay, kitten,” he whispered in her ear. “And I’d be so lucky,” he said causing her skin to warm more than the burn.
*
Eleanor chatted with her throughout the shower and was there to help her with her clothes. She was glad she didn’t have to say it in front of Niall and Harry, but Eleanor knew to bring one of her looser bralettes without an offensive band that could hide under her shirt. She was also grateful that she clearly heard Niall about the comfortable clothing because she wouldn’t be caught dead in this office with a pair of leggings for fear of unprofessionalism. “Sorry to interrupt,” she winked at her.
She glanced at the doors hoping no one out there heard Eleanor. She rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t do that at work.”
“I wouldn’t blame you,” El shrugged. “He’s really cute.”
“He can hear you,” she shook her head whispering nervously.
“No, Louis texted they both left to give you privacy. It’s just Louis out there.”
“Who are we to judge what kind of physical medicine you need in a time of crisis?” He asked through the closed door.
“Are you alright?” Eleanor asked. She nodded. The shower helped significantly even if it was freezing cold. “I brought some petroleum jelly,” she said. “Do you want help, or do you want me to do it?” She asked.
“I can do it,” she said and glanced in the mirror at her body for the first time.
“I think your sweater saved you,” Eleanor said.
She nodded. “That and my iced coffee,” she remarked. Her skin was red, one or two spots where the initial impact must have hit would blister, right below her bra-line but she was extremely lucky. The burns did extend to her thighs but other than that she was okay. The stinging was now just a dull ache. She slathered the ointment all over her skin. Everywhere it hurt. She nearly sighed with relief.
It took another five minutes for Eleanor to help her with her clothing and make sure she looked okay. She put on more makeup so she could feel whole again. She was already dreading leaving this office with wet hair. Eleanor opened the door to see Louis sitting on the ground with his back against the wall beside the door to the bathroom.
“You alright, babe?” He asked, standing to join the little party. Louis sat on the closed toilet lid.
She nodded. “Much better. Thank you.”
“Harry left this,” he said holding out a first aid kit. Eleanor placed it on the counter to deal with after the makeup.
“You should ask to go home,” Eleanor said as she reapplied her mascara. “We’ll drive you home before we go back to work.”
She shook her head. “I have to do a few more things...I have to replace those files....and I never got my coffee,” she opened the first aid kit to pull out gauze and she slathered it with more petroleum jelly.
Louis chuckled. “You’re definitely okay.”
“Harry was going to fire the guy that bumped into me,” she said. “Can you cover this?” She asked, passing her bandage to Eleanor and lifting her shirt to her chest. Louis looked at his phone while the girls did their thing.
“Well, he is quite taken with you. I’m surprised he didn’t strangle him on the spot,” Eleanor smirked as she bandaged the most sensitive burns carefully. It was cold in the office, and she was irritated because she couldn’t cover her arms or body with any extra layers. “You’re lucky it missed your hands,” Eleanor said.
She nodded as Eleanor soothingly wiped more jelly along the inside of her forearms where the hot liquid did get her. “What do you mean quite taken?” She asked.
“Oh, shut up,” Louis rolled his eyes. “Even I noticed.”
“He’s smitten, love,” Eleanor giggled. “He can’t take his eyes off you, ever. The whole time we built the furniture when I came in the bathroom to help.”
“He was practically staring at the door like a puppy while you were in here,” Louis explained.
She felt the ever-present warmth in her cheeks whenever Harry’s affection toward her came up. She simply didn’t believe that Harry liked her like that. There was no way. He simply paid her to be around, and he worried about her the way someone worries about their car...or their expensive electronics. “No way.”
There was a knock on his office door, and she felt awkward that someone was probably coming in looking for Harry and they were about to find a circus in the bathroom.
“Come in!” Louis shouted.
“Jesus Christ,” she grumbled. Eleanor laughed as she finished the final coat of jelly and rinsed her hands off in the sink.
Fortunately, it was just Harry. Harry, knocking on his own office door. She was going to lose her mind from how ridiculous this all was. “Er...hi,” he said awkwardly.
“Hi.”
“You feel a little better?”
“I think so,” she nodded.
Niall came in behind holding an iced coffee in his hands. “Louis said y’might still want one,” he smirked.
She turned to glare at Louis who smiled excitedly. Like this was the most exciting game he had ever played. “Thank you,” she said gratefully.
“Niall, Harry,” Eleanor began. Oh no. “Would you mind if we drove her home? She wants to stay to replace the files or something, but I think—”
“Absolutely not, please take her,” Niall said quickly shaking his head. He didn’t even need to hear the end of it.
Harry frowned. “Y’didn’t seriously think we were going t’make y’stay love, did you?” He wondered.
“Well, it’s not that bad now...I could—”
“Oh my God,” Louis rolled his eyes. “You’ll see them both Monday and your work will still be here. You can spare the ninety quid you’d make.”
“You’re only paying her eighteen an hour?” Harry asked, looking at Niall suddenly very aware of how little he was paying her.
“You’re the one that sets the pay, Harold,” Niall shook his head.
“I changed my mind,” she said to Eleanor. “Get me out of here,” she begged.
“Er...” Harry started appearing a bit flustered. She doesn’t know why. Everyone in this room knew he was paying her outside these walls to be in his life. “Do y’think you can drop her off at m’place? I want t’make sure she’s okay...and...I don’t want her t’cook dinner herself or anything.”
If Eleanor and Louis hadn’t said Harry was so taken with her just a few moments ago, she wouldn’t have thought anything of his question. She wouldn’t have looked at him when he asked. Again, it was merely the idea of someone taking care of a house pet. Or a boat. He wanted to look after what he paid for.
If they hadn't said anything, she wouldn’t have seen the way his cheeks turned the slightest bit pink when he asked if they could drive her to his place.
“Harry, we’d love to,” Louis responded with a full-blown, impish smile.
I think this is a little bit of a slow start for this series, and I apologize for that, I'm still kinda setting up some background pieces. I got a few big plans ahead here. I hope you like it. You can find the first two parts here: Traditional
Warnings: slight 18+ topics mentioned (like you have to squint to see them)
“Do...you expect...more from me?” She asked quietly. She didn’t meet his gaze as she asked. Harry saw the way her cheeks turned pink as she spoke.
"I would love t’do more with you of course. But m’not an animal. M’not going to make you.”
“You kind of pay me to do that though,” she reminded him still not fully looking at him.
"M’not gonna make you do anything you don’t want to. I just want to spoil you.”
Harry was quietly but almost assuredly in love. There were hundreds of reasons not to be. First and foremost, she was his intern. Maybe not his directly...but at his company, nonetheless. There were so many issues with falling in love with someone that was subordinate to him. But here he was. The second reason was of course that he wasn’t supposed to fall in love with someone he was paying money to for the arrangement agreed upon.
But how could he not? She was the most adorable thing he had ever laid eyes on. She was so kind and intelligent. The way her nerves seemed to amplify while she was at dinner with him versus the confidence she exuded when she shook his hand was unbelievably cute. He thought of all the things to be nervous about, it would be working at his company. But apparently, spending the evening with someone who already wanted to be in her presence was the kind of thing to get someone so cutely riled up.
The second he heard her voice say Styles Incorporated he was done for. He wanted it to be her last name—he didn’t care about how ridiculous the sentiment was. Hearing her say his last name sounded so perfect in her voice he practically melted. The moment he saw her in person was like trying to balance himself on a tightrope. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and never let her go. But he was the boss of the company she was interning for, so he had to pretend he was just meeting her. Like he didn’t just scour her interest profile and all social media looking at her cute little being.
Hey beautiful. What are you up to today? Do you want to come over? I make really good Ramen.
Oh, I’d really like that! She answered almost instantly. Harry smiled excitedly at the prospect of seeing the sweet girl in a few minutes. But...I’m building my furniture with Louis and Eleanor :(
Harry frowned. He didn’t want her to build her cheap furniture. He didn’t want her buying cheap furniture. But he wasn’t going to make her return everything she already bought...and he wasn’t going to make her skip out on her friends...as much as he wanted her to. Oh. Don’t you mean you and Eleanor? He remembered what she said good naturedly about her best friend.
No literally, lol. Yes. Me and Eleanor, you’re right. She sent a laughing emoji and Harry wished he could hear her laugh out loud. He loved her light little giggle that he got to enjoy at dinner the other night. He didn’t get to see her today at work, but he wished he did. It was why he was asking her if she wanted to come over now.
While he was reminiscing about her, he missed the three little dots signaling her second reply. We were going to order pizza...if you like pineapple on your pizza you CAN’T come over but if you like GOOD pizza, then you can come and entertain Eleanor and I if you’d like.
He thought her humor was easily one of his favorite qualities about her. Have you tried it love? It’s not that bad.
Here I was, starting to like you...I’m not ordering it.
He chuckled at her response. I won’t make you...I’ll be there in fifteen?
I’ll see you then :)
Harry wasn’t really one to worry about what to wear, but suddenly he had no idea. What do you wear to help your employee, but also love interest, but also companion that he found off the internet to help build cheap furniture? He decided on a pair of dark jeans, a T-shirt, and some trainers he had lying by the door of his home. It occurred to him he was meeting her best friends and he thought that maybe he should have put in a bit more effort. It was only their second time together outside of work. Nonetheless, he was very excited and really looking forward to seeing her in her element.
*
“Louis,” she begged.
“I just want to ask him how many millions he’s worth. I don’t know why that’s an issue.”
She looked at Eleanor pleadingly. “Lou,” she said gently and then smiled kindly.
“Oh alright,” he rolled his eyes. “I’ll behave. But I won’t like it.”
At that moment, her phone signaled she had a visitor waiting in the lobby. She didn’t know if it would be pizza or Harry, so she headed down with her wallet just in case.
As she descended the staircase the one floor, she seemed to have an epiphany that she was wearing a pair of leggings and a t-shirt she would typically wear to the spin class she went to once a year with Eleanor. She realized she was entirely underdressed to see someone as beautiful as Harry. More so someone that she was employed by—in more than one way. She doesn’t know what possessed her to invite Harry over to meet her friends and build furniture. But she did know. She knew because she already liked him so much.
“Wow, thanks, mate,” the man was stuffing the money into his pocket as Harry held the three pizza boxes in his hands. She imagined Harry must have given him a substantial tip. In her head, Harry probably didn’t walk around with any bill smaller than a fifty.
“Oh, Harry. You didn’t have to do that,” she said quickly hurrying over to the pizza guy and Harry. The delivery guy was someone that she had run into several times over the last few years since she loved this pizza place.
“Oh, hey lady,” he smirked at her. “Your boyfriend said he would pay. Figured it wasn’t an issue,” he shrugged. Her cheeks pinked at the word boyfriend directed at Harry and she bit her lip waiting for Harry to answer instead. She waved gently to the man exiting with the large tip and he winked at her over his shoulder. He gave her a thumbs up and she swore she could see him mouth the word upgrade.
“Not a problem, love,” he responded with an easy smile. “Just happened here at the same time.”
With pizza in hand, she awkwardly made her way back to the stairwell trying to calm her nerves. Especially since Louis never had a filter. Harry was professional and lovely. He paid her in more than one way, and he was about to meet her crazy best friends. She worried she was about to lose both sources of income in a matter of minutes. “Y’okay, kitten?” He asked quietly as she approached her door.
“Mhmm...” she hummed. “Nervous.”
He chuckled. “Don’t be,” he said it easily. “M’excited t’meet your friends.” Swallowing, she nodded and pushed the door open.
“How much do we owe you?” Louis called from the living room.
“Um...Harry paid, so you’d have to ask him,” she still sounded nervous as she kicked her flipflops off at the door and made her way through the little entry way.
“S’all set,” Harry said easily. Obviously. It was pizza, and he didn’t mind in the slightest paying for the four of them. He set the pizzas on the counter in the kitchen and turned to her friends spread about empty cardboard boxes and plastic bags. Her couch was pushed against the wall facing the TV and the new stand it sat upon. She had music playing softly in the background that echoed through the room from the TV. Eleanor was focused on the directions in front of her while Louis twirled the little wrench in his hand.
“Thanks, Harry,” Louis said and stood to hold his hand out. “Nice t’meet you. Heard a lot about you,” he smirked.
“Hi Harry,” Eleanor chirped leaving the directions to flutter back to the floor and gave him a hug. “Thanks for coming to help. Louis gets us distracted a lot.”
“Entertained,” he corrected. Harry chuckled.
“Looks like you’ve made a lot of progress,” he noted that the coffee table was also completed in addition to the TV stand.
“Miss Impatient over there couldn’t wait,” Louis said. “El and I are on dresser duty.”
“Shh,” she hushed as she was still putting out paper plates and getting some napkins to put beside the pizza. “The coffee table and TV stand were like three parts total.”
Harry chuckled. “Didn’t take you as impatient, love,” he said softly in her direction.
She ignored his comment. “Can I get you a drink?” She asked as if the conversation around her wasn’t happening.
“Oh, she hides it very well,” Louis told Harry.
“She’s not impatient Louis,” Eleanor rolled her eyes. “She’s independent.”
“Terrible really,” Louis murmured causing Harry to chuckle.
“Water is fine, kitten,” he finally responded as if he wasn’t causing the racing of her heart just by being there.
*
Louis and Eleanor left after two bookshelves, the dresser, and the night table were put together. Louis claimed exhaustion because he was old despite Eleanor and her doing most of the heavy lifting. After a grateful goodbye, she ushered them out the door, Eleanor whispering to call her later in her ear.
In her eyes, it was really starting to look and feel like home. Harry was extremely helpful and wasn’t irritated at all by the lifting or the tedious labor of putting together cheap furniture. Harry was in fact pushing the bookshelves into position. “Y’should really anchor this down,” he told her.
“Er...I don’t want to mess up the walls. They charge you a fortune for that when you move out,” she explained. Harry smirked at her knowingly.
“I’d like t’see them try.”
She snorted and pushed her boxes labeled books toward the shelves. “Sorry, I forgot,” she said. “You’re very...down to earth.”
“Thank you, love. I try t’be.” Harry was reading the titles of the books as he put them on her shelves. He thought you could learn a lot about a person based on what they read. She seemed to read a bit of everything which made sense. She appeared worldly and intelligent. Her choices ranged from psychological non-fiction to romantic novels set at Christmas time. There were several historical fiction books as well. “You read a lot?” He asked.
“I used to...” she shrugged. “I get really caught up in my schoolwork. When I have time in the summer, I can read two to three books a week but that’s only when I’m not stressed about other things.”
“I see.”
“Do you read?”
“Uh...a little here and there...but not too often. I should read more. I get very busy with the company and everything,” he explained.
“I’ve been trying to read for thirty minutes every day since...well...since I was staying with Louis and Eleanor. I turn my phone off and set a timer on the microwave and everything. Louis hated waiting for it to be over so we could watch our shows and stuff.”
“S’nice you have Louis and Eleanor,” Harry remarked. “I don’t know what I’d do without Niall.”
“They’ve been the best people in my life for so long,” she said with so much kindness, so much reverence for them, Harry felt his heart stutter just as a bystander for her love for the pair.
“How did you meet them?”
“Louis was my older brother’s best friend. Since before grade school. They did everything together. He’s like my own brother...and Eleanor has been in his life since they were in high school, she’s like an older sister to me, too.”
“Oh, s’nice. I didn’t know you had a brother.”
There was a pause. If Harry wasn’t so enthralled by her, he might have missed how brief the pause really was. But he watched her swallow as she broke the cardboard box down and set it to the side as she slid the next one in front of her to start placing more books on the shelf. Her eyebrows pinched together just slightly. “He died when I was in high school,” she murmured. “Louis and Eleanor haven’t left me alone since.”
Harry thought of his older sister Gemma. The thought of her dying was enough to break his heart. He was overcome with grief for the poor girl who just casually went on organizing her books. Harry wasn’t sure how she could remain upright. How she could continue living. Gemma was one of his best friends. The way she spoke about Louis and Eleanor with so much admiration...he could only imagine how much love she had for her biological brother. “Jesus,” he muttered under his breath. “M’so sorry, love,” he said quietly.
She nodded, swallowed hard again. She didn’t speak for a few minutes. Harry just let her put her books on the shelf and he silently watched her as it was clear the grief while manageable probably hurt a lot at times like this. Her eyes glistened a bit and she shook her head. “You have a sister, you said?” She asked eventually.
“Yeah, she’s older than me, too. Her name’s Gemma.”
She nodded. “You should call her and tell her you love her,” she said quietly. “Often,” she mumbled.
Harry thought he would cry. “I will,” he promised.
They were quiet for a bit of time until all the books were neatly displayed. She stood up and cracked her neck side to side and put her hands on her hips. “Thank you,” she said finally. He shook his head.
“Not a problem, love.”
He was looking at her like she might break down crying. “Can I ask you something?” She wondered.
“Of course.”
“Do...you expect...more from me?” She asked quietly. She didn’t meet his gaze as she asked. Harry saw the way her cheeks turned pink as she spoke. The change in subject seemed so rapid but Harry didn’t know much about the grief she was feeling. It may have been over five years since it happened, but he imagined that coping with it was something that was still so prominent in her life. He wished he dug deeper into her social media. Wished that he searched her name in obituary searches or asked about her family earlier. It seemed like an entirely vulnerable way to bring it up and now she was stuck with him in her apartment where she probably felt completely exposed.
Hence her question. Taking a deep breath Harry wanted to tell her he would love to make out with her like a horny college frat boy. And yes, he had thought of bending her over this cheap furniture at least ten times since he arrived. But Harry liked to believe he wasn’t like most men on the website he found her on; he would never make her do anything she didn’t want to. He wanted her to be comfortable around him. Especially since he was kind of falling madly in love with her with every passing second. “I don’t expect anything but for you t’be yourself, kitten,” he said softly. “If our...relationship heads that way, m’open to it, of course. You’re beautiful, intelligent, kind, and funny. I would love t’do more with you of course. But m’not an animal. M’not going to make you.”
“You kind of pay me to do that though,” she reminded him still not fully looking at him. Her eyes darted to the pile of flattened cardboard boxes, and he watched the way her fingers kind of shook as she reached for other scraps of plastic and Styrofoam to put in the trash pile.
Tilting his head at her, he reached out and placed a hand over hers, stilling the shakiness and gave her a squeeze. It felt like heaven just to hold her hand. Harry felt so lucky he found her before someone else did. “M’not gonna make you do anything you don’t want to. I just want to spoil you.”
“And help me build cheap furniture that you hate?” She asked with a smirk. She squeezed his hand back and Harry swore he could hear wedding bells in his head.
He rolled his eyes. “Don’t remind me,” he practically groaned. “I would’ve bought you real furniture.”
She grinned so cutely, wrinkling her nose at him. “I bought a real couch and bed.”
“A miracle, it seems,” he grumbled looking at the particle board that seemed to bend a bit with each book she placed on the last shelf.
*
Harry felt he was floating he sat in his office. Spending the evening with her, even just building furniture, furthered how smitten he was with the angel he happened to find on the Internet. Over the last month they hung out several more times, not doing much of anything of importance. Some nights they went out and Harry bought her fancy meals and drinks (and her favorite desserts). Other nights they watched a movie on her comfy, stable couch while Harry wondered if her TV stand was going to fall apart under the weight of her TV.
In the meantime, she didn’t see much of Harry while at work. Most of the time she was in Niall’s office tending to his needs and learning the ins and outs of his job. From what Niall said and what he could see, she was a natural, of course. She was brilliant. “If m’not careful, she might take my job,” Niall chuckled rubbing the back of his head. They were meeting in Harry’s office going over his latest spreadsheet that was so much more organized than the last five years of spreadsheets Niall ever provided. As anticipated, it was all thanks to her.
Harry smirked and rolled his eyes. “You would be so lucky,” he muttered.
“You like this one,” Niall noted. Harry avoided his friend’s eye contact as he looked through the papers on his desk.
Harry nodded. “She’s good,” he shrugged.
“The others were good,” Niall replied, knowingly.
“Are y’snooping as my employee or my friend?” He asked without looking up.
“Best friend,” he qualified.
Harry shrugged again and thought about the pretty girl just down the hall looking adorable and being her perfect self. He hadn’t told Niall yet. But he wanted to. His only hesitation was making her uncomfortable. He didn’t think Niall would say or do anything, but...the idea of betraying her trust or making her feel inadequate at work made him feel like it could be the most horrible thing in the world. “She gets me tea,” he smirked.
“Honestly, I was shocked you gave her company card on the first day,” he chuckled.
Harry felt his eyebrows knit close together. “What?” He said simply.
Niall was seated across from him casually and he glanced at Harry almost curiously. He shrugged. “The coffee and tea?” He asked.
“I thought you gave her a card.”
Niall blinked in surprise. “Uh...no,” he shook his head. “I didn’t give her anything.”
Harry felt irritated. The kind of irritation he felt when she tried to pay for dinner. Or when she bought cheap furniture. Or any time she thought she was inconveniencing him. There was a knock on the other side of Harry’s office at that moment. “Come in,” he called.
“Oh, speak of the angel,” Niall grinned brightly. Harry stared at her, coffee, tea in her hand. Smiling kindly as she entered, she set the tray of drinks on Harry’s desk, and he watched her every movement.
“Talking about me?” She asked quietly. “Doesn’t sound good.”
“All good things, darling,” he promised.
“How do you pay for our coffee?” Harry asked bluntly, quickly, ignoring Niall entirely. He was miffed. In over a month of being here she had probably spent at least a hundred dollars a week of her own money on coffee for the three of them. More, if she went on behalf of other people. Which she was apt to do if anyone asked while in the same room when she asked Niall if he wanted something.
“Harry,” he said quietly. “Stop,” Niall rolled his eyes.
“Uh...I pay for it,” she admitted.
Niall blinked. “You pay for it?” He asked.
“Um...yeah...I thought—”
“Darling, that’s probably cost you a small fortune...s’not sustainable.”
Technically it was Harry buying coffee. But that’s not what he gave her money for.
“Really, it’s okay. I have—”
Harry was already pulling a checkbook out of his top desk drawer. He wrote her name and made it out for a thousand dollars before sliding it to her. She blanched seeing the amount. Oh, she was going to get an earful later. She just knew it. “Let me know if you need more,” he said simply. “Niall, can you please go get her a company card?” Niall stood taking his drink from the tray and headed for the door. He knew when Harry meant business. Literally and figuratively. This was one of those times. He didn’t fully understand why Harry was all up in arms about this, but if he was going to write her a check for coffee, he wasn’t going to question his friend’s reasoning.
“Wait, Niall...,” she said hurriedly. Her cheeks were warming, and her heart rate felt aflutter...like when Harry picked her up from her apartment and held doors open for her. “I...I just set up a tab with the Starbucks across the street. They give us a discount because I go so often. I just tip them and pay at the end of each week...it’s not this much,” she said quickly handing the check back to Harry. A look passed between the two of them and Harry looked away briefly before Niall caught it. He didn’t want him to be suspicious...he would tell him. Niall was his best friend after all. But he couldn’t do it in the workplace. This was a private conversation for sure.
“You set up a tab?” Niall asked. Harry stared at her with so much...annoyance. She could feel his irritation seeping through the air, and she truly thought she was going to lose both her jobs for this. It was just coffee and she had already told Harry she didn’t need as much money as he gave her. Coffee was the least she could do. “Why didn’t we think of that?” Niall directed his question to Harry.
Harry didn’t know either. His agitation disintegrated by the second as he realized she was much more brilliant than he gave her credit for—even for something as simple and lovely as coffee. She didn’t make eye contact with anyone. It made her look like she was in trouble with a school principal. Her fingers fidgeted with the pockets of her skirt and Harry thought about how he wanted to kick Niall out of his office and how much he would love to rip the skirt off her so he could have her all to himself. She was too beautiful, too smart. He was grateful he was seated behind his desk hiding his lower half. “Don’t buy coffee for anyone here with your own money,” Harry told her.
“I’m sorry.”
“Oh stop,” Niall said shaking his head coming back to her. He put a hand on her arm and gave her a gentle squeeze. “‘Thank you, darling.’ Is what Harry meant.”
“Yes. Thank you. Don’t do it again.” Harry didn’t fully understand what was happening to him regarding this perfect girl. Never in his life did he anticipate finding a companion online, spoiling her rotten, and seemingly falling for her at the same time. So much so that he was jealous of Niall. He wanted to yank his best friend’s arm out of its socket solely for touching her arm.
Unfortunately, she saw the way his eyes connected with Niall’s hand on her arm. She was definitely going to get an earful tonight.
Literally obsessed. The possessiveness. The slow burn. The way she reacts when he speaks. Omg. The way he reacts when she doesn't utter a single word but to her actions!
This part got a bit away from me. But I kinda like it. Hope you enjoy!
“Do men hold doors open for you, love?” He asked.
She blinked. “I’m sorry?”
“I will take that as a no, then,” he chuckled. “I would like t’hold doors open for y’whenever I can,” he explained.
“Oh,” she said in surprise. “Well, thank you.”
“M’pleasure.”
Niall was very accommodating when she arrived. “Hey darlin’,” he smiled holding his hand out. “Nice t’see you again. Did you find everything okay?” He asked.
At the same time, she was trying to take in the beautiful, shiny floors that clicked with heels and others shoes all the way down the long hall. There were glass rooms spaced out at regular intervals between the beautiful wooden doors that looked like they belonged to a vintage castle.
“Yes, thank you. So far so good,” she smiled nervously. In the back of her head, she was thinking about that introductory message Harry sent her. Harry Styles. Styles. Certainly, Styles Incorporated was not the same Harry. The world wasn’t that cruel. Right? Harry would have said something. Even some low-on-the-totem-pole intern would have sparked something in the boss of a successful company like this while perusing a website for a girl to spoil.
“Great,” he smiled. “Follow me, I’ll show you around.” Her phone vibrated in her bag’s front pocket. As Niall showed her the breakroom with a half kitchen and spacious table, she put her lunch in the fridge and checked the message. Have a great day, love. You’ll do great. Excited to meet you later and hear all about it. No, he didn’t know. She decided. He would have said ‘See you around’ or something like that.Sliding her phone back into its space she turned her attention back to Niall. “Nervous?” He asked with a grin.
She nodded then shrugged with a nervous chuckle escaping her lips. “Kind of,” she admitted. “You’re very nice. I’m worried I’ll mess up.”
“Then you’re going to do great,” he chuckled and tilted his head toward the hallway. “This whole floor is ours; your office is small—sorry about that. A makeshift attempt and you deserve better. If it’s any consolation, most days m’not even in the office so you can lounge around and do your work in my space. I tried convincing Harry that you’ll need more but—”
She blinked and felt her heart rate take off before she could stop. No. “Harry?” She questioned, interrupting quickly.
Niall smirked. “My best friend...and the boss. Don’t worry, he’s a softie at heart. Just don’t lie to him. He loves authenticity. M’sure you’ve heard rumors about past interns and—"
Her tongue felt dry; she wished she had taken her water bottle from her lunch bag. Her boss’s boss was...it couldn’t be that coincidental, right? If he knew there was a conflict of interest, she would either have lost her...outside position or this internship. Right? Niall was explaining the reputation of the rapid rotation of interns. She assumed one wrong look would leave Harry mad and Niall would have no choice but to let them go. “I have a good feeling about you though,” he smirked at her as he continued walking back toward his office...their office.
“Niall.”
“Speak of the devil,” Niall smirked as he muttered under his breath to her. Turning toward his name she spun on her heel at the same time to see Harry approaching. He was tall and beautiful. But she already knew that from his profile picture. He wore a collared button down and the collar was pressed firmly and stiffly against the dark green sweater he wore over it. With sleeves rolled up to his elbows, he displayed a multitude of tattoos and veiny forearms that she had to look away from quickly before she drooled. Adorned in a pair of slacks and dress shoes she thought that he knew exactly what he was doing: torturing any poor girl that looked at him as beautiful. She tried looking at his perfectly styled brown curls and his green eyes attached to eyelashes that seemed downright sinful with every blink. His face seemed a bit scruffy, like he forgot to shave this morning.
His gaze didn’t falter even a nanometer. It was perfectly normal to see the girl he had just paid a substantial sum of money to live in a beautiful, highly expensive apartment. She was going to see him tonight for a first date. And yet, here he was, at his company without so much as a flinch of surprise by the fact that she was interning here. “Harry, this is our new intern,” Niall explained introducing her to his best friend.
Harry held his hand out. “Pleasure t’meet you, beautiful. M’name’s Harry, Harry Styles. Make sure t’tell me if Niall is treating y’poorly.”
Her brain wasn’t processing the words. Maybe Harry hadn’t put two and two together yet. It would make sense to separate his personal life with his business. Or maybe she just wasn’t recognizable; she spent a good chunk of time getting ready this morning in hopes of looking pretty but felt she fell short.
Mostly, she couldn’t imagine Niall treating her anything less than perfectly and that quite baffled her. “Oh, thank you,” she managed to say taking his hand and noticing his grip was firm and warm just like a good handshake was supposed to be. Would they do this all again later when they met for dinner? “I’m excited to be here,” she said—that was the truth. She scoured for internships long before she thought of being a companion for someone with Harry’s kind of money.
Harry smiled and turned his attention back to Niall. “Tricked another one, I see,” he mumbled. “I wanted t’know if y’have the report for our first meeting this morning.”
Niall nodded and jerked his head toward the office. “I was just about to show her m’office,” he said opening the door to his home away from home. He held the door for her to follow him and she held the door for Harry, but he shook his head as Niall was already looking at the piles of messy paperwork on his desk. Her first order of business would be to organize that chaos.
“After you, love,” he said holding the door open for her to enter. She mumbled a quiet thank you and passed through the threshold. As she did, she heard him speak, just for her to hear, not Niall, “guess I should’ve asked where y’were interning, hmm?” He hummed quietly.
Her face warmed and she swallowed the lump in her throat as she did her best to maintain her composure. Fortunately, Niall was looking through his messy piles, so he didn’t notice her blushing face or her awkwardness.
“I can organize all this for you,” she decided to say to avoid the way her legs felt numb and shaky.
“I know where everything is,” Niall smirked at her with a grin that said the exact opposite of his words.
“I think you should let her,” Harry agreed. He rolled his eyes and produced a blue file folder with the document inside.
“Right where I left it,” he said passing it to Harry. She giggled quietly and Niall winked at her. As Harry and Niall discussed the file, she glanced around his spacious office with the pretty view. When they entered, she hadn’t noticed the tiny little room that seemed to attach inward through the door they entered. It seemed they went right through her little office. It wasn’t much, a space for a desk, a chair for a guest and a plant in the corner if she was lucky. There was a small window that looked like it belonged in a house, not an office that allowed her a view of the city that faced the nearby ocean.
It was perfect.
“Sorry we were interrupted,” Niall smirked at her. Harry was gone again, and she was slightly grateful, so she didn’t have to think about her strange predicament. “This is yours. I hope it’s not too cramped.”
“It’s perfect,” she promised. “Thank you.”
He logged into her computer. “You’ll have to reset your password, but this is my calendar,” he said clicking through several buttons. “I recommend having it open and whatnot, but it’s really up to you. I tend to need frequent reminders.”
“Like that you’re gonna be late to your 9:30?” She asked, pointing at the screen.
Niall checked his watch. “Yeah, exactly,” he chuckled. “I shouldn’t need anything during the meeting, but if I do, you just knock and enter to announce your presence, don’t be shy, people do it all the time. Just keep an eye on your phone for messages. Do you have any questions at the moment?”
“Do you drink tea or coffee?” She asked.
“Coffee, hot. Cream two sugars,” he said grabbing his laptop off his desk and throwing it haphazardly in his bag. She made a mental note of that.
“I’m going to organize this while you’re gone,” she said looking at the haphazard piles.
He ignored her comment with an eye roll and a shake of his head. “If Harry gets his way, meetings tend to run over the time they’re supposed to be—"
“I heard that,” Harry called fleetingly from outside the office. She giggled.
“—so please come get me if I’m being held against my will and late for another meeting,” he said ignoring his friend.
She nodded. “Will do.”
“Do you need anything at the moment? Otherwise, I’ll let you get settled.”
“No, I’ll be fine.”
He smiled. “Course you will. Welcome to Styles Incorporated.”
*
After organizing Niall’s messy desk, she sat at her own desk and worked her way through the different tabs and things. She was excited to work beside Niall and learn the ropes of his jobs.
She was thinking that if he had two jobs rolled into one, she would be able to take one of them at the end of her internship. But if Harry was her boss, she was thinking that wouldn’t happen. At least now she could learn both and apply to different companies, knowing the ins and outs of two jobs. Her phone vibrated and she hurried to open it, anticipating an SOS message from Niall. She received one halfway through his meeting to which she smirked and informed her he had no need to leave just yet, but asked if she would come get him solely because he was bored. (She did not, but she did ask if he was completely serious because she would have come up with some elaborate scheme if needed.)
Instead, this message was from Harry.
Enjoying your first day?
:)
She felt extremely nervous to be interning at Harry’s company knowing that outside these walls her life was still entangled with his. It seemed like a bad idea. But she was regrettably a bit desperate for money and for the internship. So, if Harry didn’t find fault in the predicament, she wasn’t going to say anything.
Niall was in and out for most of the morning. She sent him messages frequently updating him of his changing schedule.When her office phone rang, she bit her lip thinking of what she should say for a moment before answering. “Styles Incorporated, Niall Horan’s office. How can I help you?”
“That’s adorable,” Harry’s voice said softly. She nearly dropped the phone. Part of her wanted to hang up.
“Oh,” she replied. “Er...Niall’s not back yet.”
“I called to talk to you,” his voice was so deep she could feel it in her toes. “Are you okay?” He asked.
“Huh? I’m fine. Do...do you need something?”
“Jus’ wanted t’make sure you’re having a good day, love,” he chuckled.
She blinked and nodded silently. “Haven’t done much. I was going to go get Niall coffee just to feel useful.”
She obviously couldn’t see him, but she could almost hear him smiling. “He’d like that.”
“Can I get you anything, Mr. Styles?” She asked.
“Hmm?”
She pulled a sticky note off the pad from the corner of her desk. “Coffee? Tea? Anything?”
Harry was quiet for a long moment. “Black tea would be nice, thank you, kitten.” She didn’t really need to write it down, but she did anyway. Black tea would be ingrained in her mind forever. She tried not to think about how he called her kitten either. “Jus’ Harry is fine, love,” he murmured, “...in and out of the office.” She was glad she was alone in her office so no one could see her blush.
*
At the end of the day Niall said he had a good feeling about her. “Mondays are typically craziest. The week will get easier as it goes along. Tomorrow I’ll have more time to show you what I do. Do you have any questions?”
“Er...no, thank you. It was a pretty easy day. I feel like I didn’t do much.”
“Oh, you did great love! The catastrophe of my desk alone warrants a full-time bonus. Even Harry complimented your phone response, and it was nice you asked him for his coffee order. I’ve had several interns put through the ringer by him, and I think you’re the first to make a positive first-day impression. I think most people are scared of him, which I think is hilarious of course. As I said, he’s a big softie. But none of them ever asked for his coffee order, and he noticed that.”
She smiled nervously knowing there was an ulterior motive to his kindness. “I’d get the whole office coffee if it was feasible,” she smirked. “If I’m here long enough, I’ll suggest they build a shop in one of these offices.”
Niall laughed. “I’ve got a really good feeling about you, darlin’. I hope you enjoyed your first day.”
“I’ll be here bright and early tomorrow,” she promised.
“Sounds good, love. Thank you.”
*
Her new apartment was hardly unpacked. She wouldn’t have time until the weekend to get it remotely live-in ready either. But here she was, standing among unpacked clothing boxes, clothes strewn about her bed (mattress still wrapped in plastic) as she picked out a dress to wear to her second first meeting with Harry.
It still felt surreal and honestly, she felt a bit stupid for even agreeing. But what was she supposed to do now that there were thousands of dollars in her account that weren’t there the day before? Louis video chatted with her. “How was your first day?” He asked. Eleanor was peering into the camera at the same time as well.
“Oh, I love that dress on you,” she smiled. “You look stunning,” she promised.
“Yeah, yeah,” Louis rolled his eyes. “Tell us about the internship.”
She sat on the mattress, the plastic crinkling loudly and sticking to her thighs. “I’m interning at his company.”
“Whose?” Eleanor asked her eyebrows pinching together.
“Harry’s,” she mumbled quietly.
“No way.”
She sighed, putting a hand over her face. “This is so dumb.”
Louis was laughing. “That’s hysterical. What are the chances? What did you say?!”
So, she explained the whole day. Overall, the experience was positive. But again, it was about to feel awkward again since she was supposed to meet Harry in half an hour. “Aren’t sugar daddies supposed to be old?” Eleanor asked.
“I think they just have money,” Louis shrugged.
“He is not old,” she confirmed. “He’s like...29 I think.”
“Well good, maybe you’ll fall in love with a normal, functioning member of society,” Louis rolled his eyes.
She sighed. “Do you think this looks alright?” She asked Eleanor, ignoring Louis’ comment. She wasn’t going to fall in love with someone that was paying her both for her internship and simply for existing.
“Beautiful, love,” Eleanor promised.
She sure hoped it was.
*
The restaurant wasn’t far from her apartment. Half a mile. She walked there in ten minutes. Harry was waiting outside as she approached. She was much more nervous now than she was this morning for her first day. The internship she was prepared for, she knew how to do the math and marketing aspects entailed in the description when she applied. She was totally out of her element walking up to the same person who was willing to pay her massive amounts of money just to have dinner with him.
“Did you walk?” He asked in greeting.
“Yes,” she said softly.
He frowned and turned to the car parked next to the sidewalk. He gently hit the top of the car frame twice to gather the attention of the driver. “She doesn’t walk anymore,” he told him. The man saluted from his seat and winked in her direction.
“I don’t mind walking,” she said hurriedly. She didn’t want to be driven everywhere. Certainly, everyone would know. “I walk all the time,” she explained.
“You don’t walk late at night, anymore,” she didn’t love the way he was demanding it, but again, didn’t want to argue with someone that was paying her substantial amounts of money. So, she quietly observed that it wasn’t that late and said as much in a whisper of the air.
“It’s hardly late.”
He turned his gaze to her and stared for a moment. Taking a deep breath in, he exhaled slowly. She noticed the way his jawline flexed, and his eyes were bright despite the evening darkening before her eyes. She noticed he shaved since she last saw him. He replaced the sweater with a suitcoat and to sum up he looked utterly handsome and equally terrifying in that moment. His eyes burned with something a bit angry, and it was odd that the man she worried about while she was at Styles Inc. was much more amenable than what she thought her date was about to be like. “I understand,” he said flatly. “M’jus’ worried about your safety,” he murmured, and she saw the anger dissipate by the second and again was surprised by how different she expected him to be versus the horror stories she heard through the grapevine of the interns that didn’t last.
Obviously, Harry was a businessman, and she was an investment. She could be agreeable, too, though. She nodded in response. “I will keep an eye on the time in the future, but I like walking.”
Harry pursed his lips and looked at his driver for a moment. The man shrugged and Harry sighed. “Noted. Not late,” he amended.
“Not late,” she conceded.
Harry tapped the top of the car once more and headed toward the door of the restaurant. He held the door open and tilted his head in silent command. “Ladies first,” he said much softer now that he was done arguing.
*
“Do y’want t’order, or would y’like me to?” He asked. The restaurant was obviously gorgeous. Dimly lit and quietly busy. The tables were spread out far enough that she couldn’t hear anyone’s conversation nearby. Gentle instrumental music played in the background. It smelled delicious and she was sure if she wasn’t with Harry, she wouldn’t dream of setting foot in this place as long as she lived.
Harry looked at ease perusing the small, printed menu in his hands. He probably already knew what he wanted—he probably already told the chef when he walked in by merely glancing at the hostess with some secret signal that only someone making seven figures a week could make. While he was at home in this fine establishment, she wished she wore a sweater over her dress. There was a nearby vent causing a draft to chill her skin. Doing her best to ignore it, she desperately thought about asking for some soup. She glanced up from the menu situated on top of her place setting. Nearly terrified by the millisecond: it was too expensive and too fancy. Keeping her cool she nodded, grateful for Harry for intervening on her unfortunate behalf. There was no way he would like her after this catastrophe. “Please.”
He smirked. “What do y’like t’eat?”
“Um, anything really,” she bit her lip. “I had pasta for lunch.”
“So no pasta,” he said easily scanning over the menu.
She laughed lightly. “Actually, I don’t think there’s a limit to pasta for me,” she admitted.
His smile grew, she could see it dancing in his eyes, but he didn’t lift his eyes from the menu. “I see.”
“Mr. Styles. Always a pleasure,” the waiter greeted. “Merlot or Pinot tonight?” He asked.
“Merlot, please,” he said glancing briefly at the waiter before returning to the menu. “Thank you.”
“Would you like to see a wine list, miss?” The waiter asked, looking at the sweet girl across from Harry.
“I’m okay with water,” she said simply.
Harry’s eyebrows pinched together, and he finally lifted his head from the menu for longer than a second. “Are you sure?”
She nodded. Maybe it was the wrong thing to say. She really didn’t understand the etiquette of what she was supposed to do or say here. “I...I have to get to work...early tomorrow,” she said awkwardly. Of course, Harry knew that. A little glass of wine wouldn’t hurt anyone. He wouldn’t bat an eyelash at anyone working for him for merely having a glass at dinner. Especially at a place like this.
He nodded slowly, taking her answer in as the waiter watched to see if she’d change her mind. Clearly, he was used to Harry, but this was obviously a first and he waited almost expectantly for her to change her answer. “Can I convince you t’have a glass of pinot?”
“Um...”
“It’s very light, miss,” the poor waiter promised. Maybe he was more aware that she gave the wrong answer than she was. Harry was ogling her curiously. Like she was a true mystery.
“No thank you, I really like water,” she assured him. She wasn’t lying. She did like water. “Do you have lemon water, by chance?”
He glanced at Harry again. “Yes, of course, miss. I’ll bring it right out,” he nodded.
Harry was still staring at her curiously. She was nervous to look up, but she did. His eyes were gentle again. His lips quirked in a smirk that was making her insides melt and warm her up—thank God because she swore the vent was aimed purposefully at her. “I don’t breathalyze anyone on the way in, love. Y’could get a glass of wine if you’d like,” he told her.
She nodded. “I know...I...I just don’t really like t’drink during the week all that much. Especially with work and stuff. Wine...usually gives me a headache too. Thank you, though. I’m sorry if that was awkward or wrong.”
He nearly snorted. Quietly of course. This place was near silent. She wondered what they put in the air to make it so quiet. “Wrong?” He repeated.
“I don’t know. I’m...I’m really nervous,” she admitted. “I’m sorry.”
“Kitten, what are y’apologizing for?” He asked shaking his head. “You’ve got no reason t’be nervous. I invited you, remember? I want you here,” he reminded her.
Swallowing, she nodded. “Okay.”
“Really, love. It’s supposed t’be easy and light. Don’t be nervous,” he repeated.
She took a deep breath and looked at him head on. He looked...soft. Like this wasn’t some weird first date that would help figure out the rules of their...companionship. Objectively, he looked like he was her boyfriend...and why wouldn’t he look like her boyfriend? As Eleanor pointed out, he was young. So was she, even younger than Harry. It was obvious Harry was brilliant, but Louis would tell her to stop selling herself short because she was exceedingly intelligent (and on the days when she was willing to compliment herself, she kind of believed that too). The only reason it was unfathomable was the fact that he was twenty times handsomer than she was beautiful and he looked about twenty times as rich.
But still, he seemed to look at her as if she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. It made her warm. Which, of course, reminded her of how cold she was. “Do they have a soup you could recommend?”
A pause before a slight chuckle. “You are...full of surprises, love.” Of course. No one orders soup at a place like this. Ladies were supposed to order salad. “It’s...warm outside,” it almost sounded like a question. She thought he might even ask if she was feeling okay.
“Um...” she swallowed and gestured in front of herself to point discreetly toward the vent. “The vent is blowing directly at me, it’s...kinda cold.”
Harry’s eyes immediately followed the path of her finger as she pointed and muttered a quiet, “Oh, for God’s sake,” under his breath while she finished speaking. As he stood up from the table, she thought she really messed up now. Harry quickly found the hostess and muttered something before he hurried back to her side of the table. “They’re going to move us,” he told her.
“Oh, God. Harry, that’s not necessary. I just—”
“Love, it’s fine,” he promised, putting a hand on her upper back as he stood by her chair. “M’not gonna have y’freeze before the appetizers.”
“But—”
“Love, it’s fine,” he repeated.
Biting her lip. “I didn’t mean to make a fuss,” she murmured standing up as Harry guided her to a nearby table.
“Not at all, love,” he promised. “I jus’ don’t want you t’be cold. I wish y’said something sooner,” he gestured to the table nearby away from the vents Harry draped his suitcoat over her shoulders before pulling her seat out.
“I’m really okay, Harry. I don’t—”
Gently grabbing her chin between his thumb and finger, he turned her eyes to his. Her breath hitched in her throat. Without his suitcoat he was left in his button down, tie, and vest ensemble and she thought she might lose her mind. It was worse than the rolled-up sweater sleeves. “Kitten, jus’ relax,” he hummed gently. “S’okay. I’ll get y’some soup and a lovely pasta dish,” he promised. He brushed his thumb over her cheek. “Okay, love?”
She nodded mutely and Harry smiled kindly at her. Coaxing her into her new seat and she waited for Harry to sit. “Sorry about the draft, miss,” the waiter returned settling her lemon water in front of her. “Here is your water. Can I get y’some hot tea?”
“She was wondering about the soup,” Harry interrupted. “Don’t usually get it myself here,” he told the waiter.
He nodded. “Of course,” Harry winked at her as he listed the different varieties they had for the evening, and she quietly chose the mixed vegetable. “Do you want to start with the prosciutto wrapped mango, Mr. Styles?” He asked.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she interrupted her face warming as she did. “I’m very allergic to mangoes. I know that’s odd.”
“Oh, well then never mind,” the waiter smiled easily. “I will bring the soup in the meantime.”
She bit her lip. “I’m sorry about—”
“You’re really going t’apologize for having an allergy?” He wondered.
Swallowing, she nodded. “Umm...”
He chuckled quietly shaking his head. “I think m’really going t’like having you around, love.”
*
After she apologized at least seventeen more times and thanked Harry profusely, they were finally in the car driving her back to her apartment. She was warm, full, and very happy with how the remainder of dinner went. Harry didn’t look at his phone once while they talked but was now scrolling through his missed messages while the driver was paused at a red light.
She kept her hands in her lap, folded neatly. “Did you miss a lot of calls during dinner?” She asked softly.
He shook his head. “Nothing important,” he smiled gently as he scanned. “Sorry, s’rude of me t’look when you’re beside me,” he slipped his phone back in his pocket.
“No, no. M’sure you have a lot more important messages than just asking me about my favorite color and stuff.”
That smirk of his graced his face again, melting her insides. He shook his head briefly and then tilted his head at her curiously. “What is your favorite color?”
“Blue.”
“Hmm...y’struck me as a red kind of girl.”
“I did like pink when I was younger but these boys in school made fun of girls that liked pink because it was so girly, so I decided to like blue instead. And I really do like blue. It’s much better for walls and decorations than pink,” he smiled brightly during her explanation, chuckling at her little feminist outcry.
They were parked outside her apartment. “Do you want me t’walk you in?” He asked as she unclipped her seatbelt.
“Oh...um...” the blood flooded her face thinking about Harry seeing the mess of the beautiful apartment Harry bought her and how she would die if he saw it. “I...I’m okay.”
“Hey love,” he said gently, stilling her hand by the wrist as she tried to gather her purse from the floor. “I had a lovely time tonight,” he promised. “I want t’do it again. If you’d like.”
Again, her breath caught in her throat. “Really?”
Chuckling, Harry nodded. “Yes. You’re very funny and sweet.”
“Can I ask you something, Harry?”
“Of course.”
“Am...do I need to worry about this internship? Because I really need it to get my degree and I don’t want to—”
Smiling, he shook his head. “You have nothing t’worry about, on that front, love. I don’t trust nearly anyone but Niall. He read your application and chose you because y’have the best qualifications and had glowing recommendations. I read them today after I realized I’d be seeing y’much more frequently,” he told her. “I think you’ll do really well,” he promised.
“Oh...good...it’s just...” she took a deep breath. “This is really hard for me to say, but I know interns don’t...typically last very long at Styles Inc. But I really want to...but I also have a very different...predicament,” she landed on after a moment.
He nodded. “You do. But you’re also the only one who shook m’hand, took m’coffee order, and seemed t’know what Niall needed before he did. All on the first day.”
“Tea,” she mumbled. Harry tilted his head in silent question toward her. “Black tea. Not coffee,” like she was reminding him of what he drank.
Harry nodded. “Exactly.”
“Okay,” she said.
“Are you sure y’don’t want me t’walk you up? See y’in safely?” He asked. She hesitated. She wondered if this was part of the...deal. But she really didn’t want him to see how bad it looked right now. Again, especially because he was paying for it.
“Can I be honest with you?” She said quickly.
Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise and nodded. “Of course, love.”
“I haven’t had time to unpack and it’s horrible in there right now and I don’t want to embarrass myself or you because I haven’t...unpacked. Especially when you’re paying for—”
He started to laugh a bit and it made the most beautiful face she had seen to date. His cheeks had a matching pair of indents with two beautiful dimples on either of his cheeks. Her body warmed at the beautiful sound of his laughter filling the car. “Kitten,” he shook his head. “I don’t care about any of that,” he rolled his eyes unclipping his belt and getting out of the car. She grabbed her purse and then tried to get out of the car except the handle was locked. She frowned. Harry opened it in the next instant before she had time to worry that she was trapped inside the back seat.
Smiling beautifully still, he shook his head at her. “Do men hold doors open for you, love?” He asked.
She blinked. “I’m sorry?”
“I will take that as a no, then,” he chuckled. “I would like t’hold doors open for y’whenever I can,” he explained.
“Oh,” she said in surprise. “Well, thank you.”
“M’pleasure.”
She got out carefully, worried she would trip and fall. Harry held his arm out for support, and they strolled up to her new apartment. She held her phone to the key reader and heard the lock click. On instinct, she reached for the door handle, touching Harry’s hand as of course he was ready to open it for her. “Thank you,” she said quietly hurrying through the door.
Harry followed behind her as they walked up one flight of stairs to the next floor. Turning to the left and then found themselves in front of the third door.
“It’s really a disaster,” she told him.
“Y’jus’ moved your stuff over a few days ago, love,” he reminded her. “S’okay.”
“I’m not a messy person. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about my habits and stuff—”
“Kitten, please open the door,” he rolled his eyes with a chuckle.
Shutting herself up, she took a deep breath and pushed the door open, flicked the light on, and gestured for Harry to enter.
“It’s not furnished?” He asked looking at the empty living room area. Just a TV, a few boxes, and a painting strewn on the floor. He moved toward the window, enjoying the view of the city night.
“Uh...no,” she kicked her shoes off and set her purse on the adjoining kitchen counter. “I...lived with my ex before. We rented from his aunt...she had all the furniture.”
“Oh. M’sorry. I didn’t realize, I would have made sure to furnish it for you—”
“Oh no, it’s okay. I just...ordered some yesterday. It’s supposed to be in by the end of next week.”
He turned from the window and stared at her. “You ordered some?” He asked.
Her blood felt cold and she was grateful she still had Harry’s suitcoat still wrapped around her because she was worried her teeth would start chattering. “Uh...yes. I figured you...you gave me a lot of money and of course I had some savings and stuff. And I needed a lot of furniture. I got a lot of tables, bookshelves, and my dressers from IKEA. That should actually be here sooner...and then I needed a couch and a TV stand, and I thought it might be worth having a desk. And I’ve always wanted a nice bed...one that had like a canopy option?” She started but then she realized she was over explaining. “I’m sorry...that was way more information than you needed. So—”
He raised his eyebrows at her in surprise. “You bought it yourself?”
“Uh...yes?”
“And you’re going t’put it all together...from IKEA...by yourself?”
“Well...my friends Eleanor and Louis will probably come over and help. Louis isn’t all that helpful—he’s usually too busy making jokes...but Eleanor and I can hold our own.”
He shook his head. “I’ve never met anyone like you, kitten,” she blushed and looked at her feet nervously. “I’ll...put more money in your account tonight, beautiful. Order as much furniture you want...but please don’t order stuff from IKEA.”
Biting her lip she nodded. “I don’t need you to put more—”
“Love,” he said gently and came across the room once more. Gently, he cupped his hands around her face. “S’what m’here for,” he reminded her. Carefully, he glanced at her eyes and then quickly pressed a kiss to her forehead. She thought she really might melt. She no longer needed his jacket. It was much too hot in the room, all from a little kiss on the forehead. “See you tomorrow?” He asked pulling away and heading toward the door.
“Um...Harry?” She asked.
“Yeah, kitten?”
“Can you just...text me when you’re home. So I know?”
She saw the way Harry’s eyes danced at her question. “Of course, love.”
Definitely multiple parts. Hope you like the idea, wasn't part of my list, but appeared in my brain without warning. Couldn't ignore it. Enjoy!
Main Character messages/Harry messages
Do you not want...a traditional relationship? If you’re paying me, how do you know I’d be a real companionship?
Because only the sweetest person on earth would send a profile out to a bunch of multi-millionaires to pay her a measly 1500 a month AND turn down a higher offer all because it’s more than she wanted.
There was a prominent frown on her face. She could sort of make out the sad, nearly disgusted face of the reflection in the back of half her computer screen. She looked over her profile again and again making sure it wasn’t too desperate but wasn’t overselling something she couldn’t produce. “Ahh...” she felt herself wincing at that reflection and bit her lip nervously as her cursor hovered over the submit button. “Ugh,” she sighed.
When Louis suggested it, she thought he was joking.
“Babe, someone would pay good money for your ass,” he told her.
“What is wrong with you?” She deadpanned.
But here she was. Making the profile to find someone willing to pay for her companionship. That’s what all the websites said. But it was a Sugar Daddy. That’s what it was called. It wasn’t ugly or distasteful. She didn’t care what people did with their lives at all. It wasn’t something that she thought she would have to do for herself until it was her last resort. That didn’t mean it wasn’t something to look at with disdain. She was all for women getting paid to be themselves simply for being lovely.
She didn’t want to do it because she didn’t think she would be good at it. She wasn’t sexy or wild, she didn’t feel beautiful, and obviously her ex didn’t think she was much fun if he was looking elsewhere for quite some time for entertainment both in and out of the bedroom. A stranger with a lot of money probably wouldn’t find her exciting like the other profiles she perused before completing a questionnaire of her own.
In all honesty, it seemed like it would be a second full-time job trying to convince a man that she deserved the money she was asking for and she wasn’t sure she could do that on top of all the other tasks she had to deal with these days. She told herself she wouldn’t let Louis convince her. But she needed the money—a good chunk of money at that. Best case scenario, there would be no takers to supply her with money. She would remain in her needy financial state and would find some other low paying job and try to manage the seemingly endless pile of obligations.
Louis was kind enough to let her stay with him and Eleanor until she figured out her shit. It wasn’t her fault that the guy she was dating cheated on her, broke her heart, and kicked her out of their shared house all in one swoop. She was living for free because they had been together for so long and it was his aunt’s old house near university. She had money and scholarships to pay for classes, so she didn’t need to manage a job while also getting an internship.
It was her final year before she would be awarded her master’s degree. Nothing could go wrong.
Except she returned early from visiting her mom and didn’t tell him.
So, there he was, moaning into another woman’s mouth on their bed.
She would have kicked herself out if he hadn’t done it first. “You could use a better dick in you too, love,” Louis had joked.
With a deep breath, like she was about to jump into a pool, she held her finger over her track pad. One last bout of reasoning ran through her mind. Her full-time internship would pay crumbs. Not enough to afford rent or a place of her own. She needed to get out of Louis and Eleanor’s hair. It was just one year.
Submit.
Blowing out a breath she smacked her laptop shut and headed to Eleanor’s kitchen—she would have said Louis and Eleanor’s kitchen, but Eleanor had a strict “no Louis near the oven” rule. One hand on her box of cereal and another on the silverware drawer to grab a spoon, she was shocked to hear her phone pinged with a message after two minutes. “Shut up,” she muttered to herself. She could almost hear Louis saying I told you so.
She ignored it. The first taker was probably not the way to go—too eager. She wasn’t a prude but the idea of having sex for money wasn’t really what she wanted to sign up for this last year of her program. But then there was another ping. And another.
“What the fuck?” She whispered.
“What is that dating app?” Louis called from the door. The pinging was incessant. “I’ve never heard that one,” he said as he meandered into the kitchen. She turned the volume down and Louis snagged it from her hands.
“Lou—”
“YOU DID IT,” he gasped, practically cheering as he unlocked her phone without her permission. “HOLY SHIT! You’ve got like fifteen takers already, babe. I told you that ass was worth it.”
“Louis, please give—”
He gasped. “Love, are you that dumb?” He asked gazing at her screen.
“What do you—”
“You can’t ask for a crummy fifteen hundred dollars a month,” he rolled his eyes. “You’re going to get all kinds of creeps and people that will make you do despicable things.”
“But I don’t—”
“A fifteen hundred dollars a week would be a lot better, don’t you think?”
“Louis, I just need a little bit of help. I don’t want to take someone’s money if I’m going to be bad at—”
The pinging stopped. “See?” He rolled his eyes placing her phone back in her hands. “Much more selective clientele...and you won’t be bad at it. I’m telling you that ass is going to pay for anything you want.”
“Louis,” she groaned and rubbed her hand over her face.
“Eleanor thinks so too, don’t you love?” He called down the hall.
“You’re home?” She called to her friend supposedly down the hall.
“Is it your profile that you've been whining about all this time? I would have helped you,” she said. “He’s right; your ass is going to be a great selling point,” Eleanor didn’t leave her room.
“I don’t want a ton of money. I just need to get by...” she explained to Louis.
“Yeah, but if you’re going to get paid for sexual activities you need to be compensated appropriately,” he said seriously.
“Why do you know so much about this?” She rolled his eyes. “Eleanor, you know he doesn’t have money, right?”
“Unfortunately!”
Flicking her cheek, he finished pouring the cereal for her (he was only allowed to touch kitchen items that didn’t involve cooking. He only recently upgraded to having microwave privileges again—especially after the baked potato incident). “I just know some girls from my dorm a few years ago talked about it a lot,” he rolled his eyes.
She was quiet while Louis slid the bowl in front of her and she took a few bites. She was still mad and upset about her ex. But she had bills to pay and quick. She frowned. “This is not what I wanted,” she mumbled.
Louis frowned grabbing a second bowl to join her cereal party. “I know, babe, but it’s okay. You’ll do great. Let’s see what your serious options are now.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to look right now. I’m too nervous.”
Louis chuckled around a bite of his food. “You don’t have to do sexual favors y’know.”
“Based on my research, I think I have to if I want this kind of money.”
He smirked. “Then we better find you a guy with big hands.”
“Jesus Christ.”
*
She didn’t look the next day or even the day after that either. It was too much to think about all at once. Submitting the profile and having her best friend talk about her ass and sexual favors was a bit much. Eleanor eventually came out from the other room and gave her gentle encouragement that Louis often lacked.
There was a bunch of remote training she needed to do before she started her internship on Monday. A company she had never really heard of; it was a good company. Not one that was plastered everywhere, but the research she did on it seemed to show it was a good place that made a good amount of money. She was emailing her supervisor, Niall, who had interviewed her for the position at the time. He was extremely nice, and she was grateful it was one less thing she had to worry about when the rest of her life seemed to be falling apart. She would be Niall’s assistant and learn the ropes of his job that entailed, “really two jobs in one. I just know the owner, so I often get stuck in two roles,” he joked to her.
Good morning Mr. Horan,
You’ll see that I’ve completed the training required. I’ve attached all the certificates and approvals and sent them to HR as well. This was just for your record. Please let me know if there’s anything else I need to do. I’m very excited to start, is there anything I need to do specifically when I get there to make your life easier? Please let me know.
Have a great weekend!
Her phone pinged yet again with an alert that someone was interested in giving her money for companionship. She frowned slightly, almost wishing that it wouldn’t ping anymore. She didn’t want Louis knowing and she was really wishing that it didn’t have to be like this. She didn’t want to do this. She wanted to be with her ex and live happily ever after the way she had planned for so many years.
For all the shit to hit the fan in the last, busiest year of her life, she was incredibly sad.
Hello!
I’m glad you’re excited. You don’t have to do anything special. I’ll show you around on Monday. Don’t stress, you’re going to do great.
Have a lovely, relaxing weekend as well.
Best,
(Please call me) Niall
She smirked at his response. This seemed like the least of her worries, but she had heard others didn’t typically last long at this company. Niall probably knew that as well as she did. He probably had to be polite to the rotation of interns coming through his office when his boss didn’t like them.
Another ping.
She sighed and figured it was now or never.
She deleted the creepy pick-up lines and anything that had a picture attachment noted on the message threads. That narrowed her choices down to four. She read through each of the opening messages and only one particularly stood out.
I’d like to give you five thousand dollars a month.
The only reason it stood out was because it was the only thing that was said. The other messages, while kinder than the ones she deleted, talked a lot about themselves and said they liked her profile. You seem cheap, lol wasn’t exactly what she wanted to hear. But there wasn’t a lot to go off of the one negotiating for triple the amount she was asking for.
She looked at the username for a moment trying to make heads or tails of his name. Coming up short she sighed quietly. “Louis? Eleanor?” She called.
With no response she decided she was on her own and clicked on his message thread again.
Thank you, that’s very kind, but I really don’t need all that much. I’m just...a little down on my luck and need enough to afford a place and whatnot. I couldn’t possibly use all that every month.
Hmm... The reply was almost instantaneous. Been waiting for you to reply, love. Can’t say I expected you to say that. You must be new to this whole arrangement.
She frowned. Appearing inept made her feel grumpier than she already was.
I am but I’m not greedy. That’s all. I just want what I need.
I appreciate that. But then you’re on the wrong app love. I want to give you five thousand a month AND pay for your place.
She was really glad Louis wasn’t around. She was blushing madly and there was no way he wouldn’t make fun of her nor take her phone from her himself and send messages she didn’t want to send. Taking a deep breath, she pursed her lips and nodded. I think you’re right...I don’t know. I really need the money. I just...I don’t want to take what I don’t EARN...and I’m not sure I’m comfortable with this arrangement, after all.
You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, love. I make a lot of money. More than I know what to do with. I give to a lot of charities, and I’d just like to have a bona fide companionship that wasn’t about my money.
She snickered. Maybe you’re on the wrong app.
:(
Sorry, I guess I am new to this. Do you not want...a traditional relationship? If you’re paying me, how do you know I’d be a real companionship?
Because only the sweetest person on earth would send a profile out to a bunch of multi-millionaires to pay her a measly 1500 a month AND turn down a higher offer all because it’s more than she wanted.
She didn’t respond for a while. A few minutes turned into half an hour. Then before she knew it two hours had passed, and she felt like she hadn’t done anything in that time yet somehow no time had passed and the man at the other end had enough of waiting for her reply.
I didn’t mean to scare you. I spend a lot of time scouring these profiles. I want someone GOOD for my money. You hardly want anything. I could pay you what I want and any apartment you wanted before breakfast for a whole year because my company already has that money transferred into its account. I could pay your student loans if you wanted. I just want someone real, and you have the most real and lovely profile I’ve ever seen.
Sucking her lip into her mouth she kind of wanted to share this text with Louis but maybe it was too private. Maybe it was too ridiculous to believe that on her first attempt, her first profile and site she found someone so sweet.
If you don’t want to, I understand. But please be careful. If you’re not interested in traditional relationships this isn’t the site for you.
Then why are you on this site?
To find someone like you.
She frowned. Seems a little predatory :)
He sent an eye rolling emoji. Just trying to help you out, love.
She waited only a few moments this time before replying. You don’t want a traditional relationship?
It’s not a make or break it for this deal. I’m willing to work up to it if needed. I think you’re lovely and would like to spoil you however you see fit.
If she wasn’t careful, she was going to fall in love with his messages. That definitely couldn’t be part of the deal. Pacing in front of Eleanor’s refrigerator, she looked over the message that caused a flutter in her heart. Even her ex didn’t talk like that about her.
I think I’m interested. She messaged. What’s your name?
pairing – garrett graham x figure skater!reader
summary – figure skating should not look like that, garrett decides. it also shouldn't involve another guy dropping his girlfriend.
warnings – figure skating injury, failed lift, pain, brief panic, jealousy, protective behaviour, strong language
notes from me – based on a couple of requests that i combined!! i hope u enjoy babes!!
word count – 4.9k
navigation – masterlist |
The problem, Garrett thinks, is that figure skating shouldn't look like that.
It looks too good. It looks like somebody took all the brutal, ugly, body-destroying parts of being an athlete and then had the nerve to cover them in clean lines and soft music and a little white practice skirt that keeps flicking up every time she turns.
It looks like balance and force and trust all disguised as something delicate enough that the idiots sitting beside him have started making wounded animal noises every time she glides past the boards.
Which is, obviously, not helping.
“She’s kind of insane, dude,” Logan says from Garrett’s left, elbows planted on his knees, chin tipped up toward the ice with the open, helpless awe of a man watching someone do something he understands is hard, but absolutely cannot personally replicate without dying.
Garrett doesn't look at him. Garrett is busy being mature. Calm. Supportive. A boyfriend who understands that his girlfriend is a collegiate athlete with a partner and a routine and years of training that existed before him and will continue to exist regardless of whether or not Garrett Graham’s lower intestine has decided to twist itself into a knot every time another man puts both hands on her waist.
“Yeah,” he says, flatly. “She’s good.”
Dean snorts from the other side of Tucker. “She’s good,” he repeats. “That’s what you’re going with?”
Garrett’s jaw works once. Out on the ice, she pushes backward into a clean, sweeping curve, one arm extended, the other caught in Avery’s hand.
Avery. Stupid fucking name.
Garrett has nothing against the guy as a person, technically, except for the obvious crimes of being tall, male, decent on skates, and currently in possession of his girlfriend’s hand while she looks like that.
He's probably fine. He'd introduced himself with a friendly enough smile, had called Garrett man in the harmless athlete way, had been polite to her, had checked the lift timing twice, hadn't done a single thing wrong besides existing in a category Garrett has recently decided is aggressive.
“She’s better than good,” Tucker says, because Tucker is nice and honest and willing to throw gasoline onto a very controlled, very internal fire. “That edge thing she did before? That was wild.”
“It’s called a bracket,” Garrett says automatically.
All three of them turn to look at him.
He keeps staring forward. “What?”
Dean’s grin arrives slowly, the way bad weather rolls in. “Sorry, Professor Blades. Didn’t know we were dealing with a scholar.”
“She tells me stuff.”
“Oh, I bet she does.”
Garrett finally cuts his eyes over. “You wanna finish that thought?”
Dean lifts both hands, delighted. “Nope. Not at all.”
Logan leans forward a little more, squinting through the glass. “Is this the guy you hate?”
“I don’t hate him.”
“You called him Pairs Boy for, like, two weeks.”
“That’s not hate. That’s identification.”
Tucker makes a low sound that is either agreement or an attempt not to laugh directly in his captain’s face. “He seems okay.”
“He’s fine,” Garrett says, and because the universe is committed to ruining him, this is the exact moment Avery’s hands settle firmly at her waist.
It's choreography. It's positioning. It's the same neutral athletic contact Garrett himself has done a thousand times on the ice, shoulder checks and glove taps and hands braced briefly on teammates during drills, bodies moving in proximity because sports are, unfortunately, made of bodies.
Avery’s fingers spread at her ribs and Garrett’s brain, which has survived championship pressure, Phil Graham, playoff overtime, and Dean Di Laurentis explaining the plot of a reality show with no women wearing full shirts, immediately becomes a smoking hole in the ground.
Dean sees his face and actually laughs. “Oh my God,” he says. “You’re gonna chip a tooth.”
“I’m fine.”
“You look like you’re about to challenge him to a duel.”
“I said I’m fine.”
“You know he has to touch her, right?” Logan asks, which is such an obviously Logan thing to say that Garrett considers shoving him off the bench on principle. “Like, that’s the sport.”
Garrett turns his head very slowly. “Thank you, John. I had no idea.”
Logan grins. “Just checking.”
On the ice, she and Avery pick up speed.
That shuts them all up for a few seconds. Even Dean stops being Dean long enough to watch properly, because the room changes when she moves like this.
It isn’t the careful, slow, rehab-framed skating Garrett first learned with her, those early mornings when every lap felt like something fragile being carried across a room full of sharp corners.
This is different. This is closer to what she must have been before the injury took a bite out of her life and made her body something she had to negotiate with instead of command.
She’s still not reckless. Garrett can see the slight caution in her landings if he looks for it, the tiny guarded shift in the knee, the way she checks her weight for half a breath before trusting it fully.
He knows her well enough now to read the places other people would only call graceful. But she’s fast. Controlled. Her face has gone focused in that quiet, inward way that makes everyone else on the rink feel briefly less important.
Her hair is twisted back, pieces coming loose at the sides from exertion, cheeks pink from cold and work, mouth parted around her breath. The skirt moves around her thighs, pale against the black of her tights, and every time she extends a leg behind her the line of her body looks so clean it makes Garrett’s chest do something weird and unpleasantly sincere.
She's incredible. That's the other problem. The bigger one, maybe. Jealousy is stupid, and he knows it. The part underneath is worse.
The part where he watches her fly across the ice with another person’s timing stitched into hers and feels, not excluded, but confronted by the fact that there are whole languages of her body he's only just beginning to learn.
Avery lifts one arm. She takes it. They turn together, close enough now that their shoulders almost brush, her hand sliding to his forearm, his other hand at the back of her waist as he guides her through the entry into a spin.
Garrett’s fingers curl against the edge of the bench.
Dean, of course, whispers, “Thoughts and prayers.”
“I will bench you.”
“We’re not even playing.”
“I’ll find a way.”
Tucker’s mouth twitches. “You know she can see you through the glass, and you keep making that face.”
That, unfortunately, makes Garrett straighten his expression through sheer force of will. It's one thing to be jealous in the privacy of his own horrible little skull. It's another to have her look over and catch him visibly sulking because her skating partner is doing skating partner things during skating partner practice.
She would get that soft, amused little crease between her brows. She would try not to laugh because she’s nice, and then she would laugh anyway because she's less nice when she feels safe, which is one of his favourite things about her.
Out on the ice, the music shifts. Avery says something too low to hear, and she nods once.
Garrett recognises the setup before he knows the name of it. The lift is one they've been talking about all week. In careful little fragments she gives him when they’re lying in his bed or sitting in the dining hall with her knee tucked against his under the table.
Avery keeps rushing the entry. My timing feels off. It’s fine, it’s just annoying. Cam said I’m cleared for it, so don’t do your face. No, not that face. Garrett.
He does his face now without meaning to.
Avery’s hands settle. She bends her knees slightly, finding the rhythm. She looks tiny beside him for one ridiculous second, which Garrett knows isn't fair because she's not fragile, she's made of muscle and skill and sharp, quiet stubbornness, but then Avery’s hands are around her waist and she’s stepping into the lift and Garrett’s entire body goes tense in immediate, full-system objection.
“Jesus,” Logan mutters, not joking now.
For one second, it works. Avery lifts her cleanly, and she rises above the ice in this stunning, impossible line, one leg extended, arms reaching like the whole cold room has opened under her.
Even Garrett, in the middle of hating every single element of this, feels the breath leave him. She looks unreal up there, like every hard thing she's ever done to herself has learned how to look effortless for four seconds at a time.
Then the timing goes wrong.
It's fast enough that Garrett almost doesn’t understand it until his body has already moved. Avery’s grip shifts. Her hip drops half an inch. One blade catches air wrong, then ice, then panic flickers across Avery’s face in a way Garrett sees with awful clarity through the boards.
He tries to save it. Garrett will give him that later, maybe. The guy tries. His arms clamp, one hand catching at her side, but the lift has already fallen out of itself.
She hits the ice hard. Her shoulder takes too much of it, then her hip, the sound of her body striking the surface sharp enough to cut through the rink, and she slides several feet before stopping near the circle with one leg bent under her and one arm curled instinctively against her chest.
For half a second nobody moves, then Avery's on his knees beside her, white-faced. “Oh my God. Shit. Shit, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”
Garrett's already over the boards.
He doesn't remember deciding to move. One second he's sitting with the boys, the next his skates hit the ice, and he's crossing the rink with the kind of speed that makes somebody behind him swear. The cold air tears at his face. His stomach has dropped so far through the floor it feels like it’s somewhere under the zamboni bay.
She's moving by the time he reaches her, which helps and also doesn't help at all. She’s rolled slightly onto her back, eyes squeezed shut, mouth open around a low, annoyed groan that's very much alive and very much in pain.
“Fuck,” she says, small and furious. “Ow.”
Garrett drops beside her so fast his knees bite cold through the fabric of his sweats. “Hey. Hey, baby.” His hands hover for one tight second because everything in him wants to touch and check and gather, and the athlete in him knows better than to start hauling someone up after a fall like that just because his heart has decided to behave like an idiot. “Look at me. You good?”
Her eyes open. They find him, which helps more than anything else has so far. The first breath she takes after that is shaky, but it comes with a little grimace that's nearly a smile if someone is generous and afraid enough.
“Hi,” she says, like this is a normal location for him to appear.
His laugh comes out once, breathless and not remotely amused. “Hi. You scared the shit out of me.”
“Yeah.” She blinks hard and shifts her shoulder, immediately regretting it if the way her face pinches means anything. “Same.”
Avery's still crouched on the other side of her, hands hovering with the horror of a man who's just dropped another human being and may never psychologically recover. “Dude, I’m so sorry. I had it and then I– I don’t know, my grip slipped or the entry was–”
She turns her head toward him, eyes sharpening through the pain. “You told me you had it.”
“I thought I did,” Avery says, miserable. “I swear to God, I thought I did. I’m so sorry.”
This is a deeply inconvenient combination and he has no interest in processing it while his girlfriend is still on the ice looking small and pissed off and hurt enough that her fingers have curled tight against the front of her own practice jacket.
“Can you move everything?” Garrett asks, voice lower now, controlled in the way it gets when it has no other choice.
She gives him a look, faintly offended even from the ice. “Everything?”
“Don’t be cute.”
“I’m not being cute. I’m on the floor.”
“You’re on the ice.”
She rolls her eyes. “That feels like a technicality.”
Behind him, there's the scrape and scatter of hockey skates as the boys come closer but not too close. Tucker’s voice arrives first, careful in a way Garrett appreciates even while wanting everyone to shut up. “She good?”
“Give her a sec,” Garrett says without looking back.
“I’m good,” she calls, and then winces immediately because calling anything anywhere has apparently pulled at her shoulder. “Ow. Okay. Medium good.”
Logan makes a strangled sound from near the boards. “Medium good is not good.”
She lifts her uninjured hand in a weak thumbs-up anyway, because she would rather die than have a group of hockey players start treating her like a tragic little rink casualty. “All good.”
Dean, quietly but with feeling, says, “That was a fucking wipeout.”
Garrett shoots him a look over his shoulder.
Dean lifts both hands.
Garrett turns back to her. His palm has found her knee by then, not the bad one, not the one with all the old history in it, the other knee through the smooth chill of her tights. “Can you sit up?”
She nods once. “Yeah. Just… slow.”
“Okay.” He slides one hand behind her upper back, careful to avoid the shoulder she landed on, the other catching her hand. “Use me.”
Avery shifts like he wants to help too, and Garrett feels something ugly and immediate move through him before he can civilise it. She must feel it too, because her fingers tighten around Garrett’s and she says, softly but clearly, “I've got Garrett.”
It shouldn't feel as good as it does, considering the circumstances. Garrett doesn't smile, because he's not a monster. But something in his chest unlocks by one hot, stupid notch anyway.
Avery sits back at once, nodding too fast. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”
Garrett helps her upright with as little jostling as possible. Even so, her breath catches when her body comes vertical, a sharp little inhale through her teeth that goes straight under his ribs and turns his voice gentler by force.
“I know,” he murmurs, close enough that only she gets it. “I know. Easy.”
Her forehead nearly touches his shoulder for half a second. Not fully leaning, because they're still in the middle of the rink and there are people watching and she has pride in places that don't always serve her. But her weight tips toward him, just enough for his hand to firm at her back.
“Grazed,” she says after a second. “Hip and shoulder, I think. Maybe elbow. Nothing dramatic.”
Garrett looks at the angry red scrape already showing near the edge of her sleeve where the fabric has ridden up. “That looks dramatic.”
“It’s not.”
“You say that about everything.”
“I’m very brave.”
“You’re very concussed if you think I’m not taking you to the medic.”
“I’m not concussed.” She blinks up at him, and there's enough irritation in her face now that some of the worst fear unclenches in his spine. “My head didn’t hit.”
“Good. Great. Love that. Still getting checked.”
She exhales, then nods, giving in faster than he expected, which tells him it hurts more than she wants to say. “Yeah. Okay. Fuck, it hurts. What the hell.”
Avery makes a wounded sound. “I’m so sorry.”
She looks back at him, and the edge in her face softens slightly, not enough to let him off the hook completely but enough to keep him alive. “I know. I know you didn’t mean to.”
“I didn’t. I swear. I just–”
“But don’t tell me you have it if you don’t have it,” she says, quieter now. “I would’ve bailed out sooner.”
Avery’s face goes worse. “Yeah. No, you’re right. I’m sorry.”
Garrett’s hand has settled more securely at her waist now, partly because she's upright and partly because his body has decided that if Avery’s hands can be there for choreography then Garrett’s hands can be there for literally all other reasons, including medical evacuation and personal sanity.
“Can you stand?” he asks.
She nods. “Yeah.”
“Use me,” he says again.
This time, she does. Fully. One hand grips his forearm, the other hooks around the back of his shoulder, and Garrett rises with her slowly, keeping his stance solid beneath them both.
Her skates scrape once, finding balance. Pain flashes across her face and disappears fast, tucked away with the efficient misery of someone who has been trained too well in performing fine.
He doesn’t call her on it in front of everyone. He only bends his head close to hers and murmurs, “Don’t do that.”
Her eyes flick to him. “Do what?”
“Act fine for my idiot friends.”
That gets the smallest laugh out of her. It costs her. He sees that too.
“I’m fine-ish,” she says.
“Fine-ish gets you benched.”
“I already hate this relationship.”
“No, you don’t.”
“No,” she agrees, and the smile, tiny as it is, makes his chest hurt. “I don’t.”
They start toward the boards slowly, her weight tucked carefully into his side. Garrett matches her pace without making a production of it, one arm around her waist, his other hand ready in front of her in case she wobbles.
It's the slowest he's ever crossed this rink while this angry. Somewhere behind them, Avery's still apologising to the coach who's come over with a clipboard and the pinched expression of a woman already mentally rewriting half a practice schedule.
The hockey boys part like they're witnessing royalty or an injured woodland creature with blades strapped to its feet.
“You okay?” Tucker asks when they get near enough, his face open and genuinely concerned.
She nods, giving them another thumbs-up that is less convincing now but still valiant. “All good.”
Logan’s eyes drop to her shoulder and back up, wince already forming. “That was insane.”
“Very helpful review,” she says, breath catching at the end but her mouth quirking anyway.
Dean points at her, solemn. “I would like to say, from the bottom of my heart, that I did not know your sport was trying to murder you guys like that.”
She looks at him for half a second, then actually laughs, soft and pained. “What did you think was happening?”
“I don’t know,” Dean says. “Sparkles. Vibes.”
Garrett would laugh if he weren’t currently busy hating the fact that she's leaning heavier against him with every inch they get off the ice. Instead he hooks his arm more firmly around her and guides her through the little gate to the bench area.
The second she sits, the composure slips by a degree. Her shoulders drop first, then her jaw loosens, then her eyes shut for one breath too long as if sitting down has given the pain permission to arrive properly.
“Yeah,” he says, already crouching in front of her. “Okay. Skates off.”
Her eyes open. “You don’t have to.”
“Baby.”
“I can do it.”
“I know you can.” He looks up at her from where he’s already reaching for the laces. “I’m doing it anyway.”
She stares at him for a second, then her face gives in first, softening around the mouth in a way that still seems to surprise her when it happens in public. “Okay.”
Garrett unties her skates carefully, working the damp laces loose with fingers that are still colder than he expected them to be. Her tights are scraped at one hip, a pale line of ice burn visible beneath the torn fabric, and the sight makes his jaw tighten all over again.
From somewhere above them, Dean says, “G, buddy, you look like you’re about to commit a rink crime.”
“I’m fine.”
“You keep saying that today.”
Logan leans one hip against the boards, trying and failing not to grin now that the immediate terror has passed. “You know, for a guy who doesn’t hate Avery, you did kind of look like you were about to bodycheck a figure skater.”
“I still might.”
She snorts, then immediately presses her lips together and lifts one hand to her shoulder. “Ow. Don’t make me laugh.”
Garrett looks up fast. “Stop moving.”
“I laughed, Garrett. I didn’t run a marathon.”
Garrett slides one skate off and sets it beside the bench, then starts on the other.
His hands are gentle, but his mood isn’t, and she clearly knows it because she nudges his stomach lightly with the toe of her sock. “Don’t be mad.”
He glances up. “At you?”
“No.” Her eyes flick briefly toward the ice, where Avery's still standing with both hands on top of his head, looking like guilt has physically aged him. “At him.”
Garrett follows her gaze, then looks back down at the laces because his face has not yet been cleared for public use. “I hate that guy.”
She giggles, quick and helpless, then winces so sharply his hands stop. “Shit.”
“Yeah,” he says, standing at once. “Okay. No more giggling. Sit still.”
“You’re so bossy.”
He can't bite back his smirk. “You like it when I’m bossy.”
Dean makes a choking sound. Tucker immediately says, “Nope. We’re all walking away.”
“We’re in skates,” Logan says.
“Then glide away, bro.”
Her cheeks have gone pink, partly from pain and partly, Garrett suspects with a grim little flicker of satisfaction, from him. “You’re not funny.”
“I’m a little funny.”
“You’re jealous and annoying.”
“I’m emotionally injured.”
That gets her again, a tiny laugh she tries to swallow and mostly fails, one hand going carefully to her ribs as if holding herself still will make humour less dangerous. Garrett shakes his head, but his mouth betrays him.
“Seriously,” she says, quieter now, once the boys have drifted a few feet away under the very weak pretence of giving them privacy. “He didn’t mean to drop me.”
“I know.”
“You do?”
“I can know something and still want to punch it.”
Her eyes warm at the edges. “Very evolved.”
“I’m working on it.”
“You were watching like you wanted to climb through the glass even before I fell.”
Garrett peels off her second skate and sets it beside the first. “Was not.”
“Garrett.”
He looks up at her. She’s sitting there with one socked foot slightly tucked under the bench, practice jacket unzipped at the throat, hair escaping its bun in soft, sweaty pieces.
Her face is still a little pale under the pink of exertion, and there's a scrape blooming angry at her elbow now, and somehow she's looking at him with this small, fond amusement like his jealousy is ridiculous and known and maybe, God help him, a little liked.
He sighs. “Fine. Maybe I wasn't enjoying the... artistic integrity of the waist-grabbing.”
Her mouth curves. “The artistic integrity?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s part of the choreography.”
“I’m aware.”
“You know that?”
“I can understand waist contact.”
“Can you?”
“No,” he says. “But I’m being brave.”
Her laugh comes out softer this time, careful, and she reaches with her good hand to brush the back of her fingers over his cheek. It’s small. Barely anything. But doing it here, in front of the rink and the boys and Avery still looking like he might throw himself into traffic, makes something stupid and warm move under his ribs.
“My brave hockey boy,” she says, very quietly, almost teasing but not only.
Garrett catches her hand before she can pull it away and presses his mouth to her knuckles. “Don’t be cute. I’m mad at you.”
She blinks, amused. “At me?”
“For getting dropped.”
“I’ll try not to be so inconsiderate next time.”
“Good.”
“Maybe I’ll schedule the fall.”
“That’d help.”
She smiles, then it fades when she shifts her shoulder again, pain moving through her face in a duller, heavier wave. Garrett’s body reacts before his thoughts do. He straightens, one hand going carefully to the back of her head, thumb near her temple.
“Hey,” he says, softer. “No more jokes. Where’s it hurt worst?”
She exhales through her nose. “Shoulder. Hip. Elbow’s just gross.”
“Head?”
“No.”
“Neck?”
“Nope.”
“Knee?”
She pauses, and his stomach drops. Then she shakes her head. “No. Scared it for a second, but no. It’s okay.”
He believes her because she knows that part of her body too well to lie casually about it. Still, his thumb moves once near her hairline, and her eyes flicker as if the touch has landed somewhere bigger than the question.
“Okay,” he says. “We’re going to the medic.”
“We?”
“Yes, we. You think I’m sending you with Pairs Boy?”
Her mouth twitches. “He has a name.”
“I’ve chosen not to use it.”
“It’s Avery.”
“Mm.”
“Garrett.”
“What?”
“Say his name.”
He looks at her for one long second. “Fine. We’re not sending you with Avocado.”
She stares at him, then has to press her lips together so hard it nearly ruins him. “That's not his name.”
He shrugs. “Agree to disagree.”
Tucker steps forward at once, practical as ever. “Want me to grab your bag?”
She looks up at him, surprised by the immediate offer, then nods. “Please. It’s the black one near the far bench.”
“Got it.”
Dean points vaguely toward the hallway. “You want, like, ice? Not rink ice. Regular ice. Medical ice.”
She gives him a small, pained smile. “That would actually be good.”
Dean nods with great seriousness, thrilled to have been assigned a useful task instead of just standing there making jokes around mild trauma. “I can do that.”
Logan looks between them all. “What do I do?”
Garrett says, “Nothing.”
She says, at the same time, “Maybe tell Avery I’m not dead.”
Logan points at her. “On it.”
Garrett helps her stand, this time in sneakers because Tucker has reappeared with her bag and Garrett has made quick work of getting her feet into something that doesn’t involve blades.
She leans into him more openly now, one arm around his waist, her head tipping for one second against his shoulder when she thinks the boys aren't looking. Garrett doesn't tell her they definitely are. He only tightens his arm around her and lets her have the illusion.
As they start toward the hall, Avery calls her name from the ice, still pale, still stricken. “Seriously, I’m sorry. I’ll– I’ll text you later, okay? Or call. Whatever. Just… I’m sorry.”
She turns as much as her shoulder allows, Garrett’s arm still keeping her close. “It’s okay,” she says, then amends with a wince and a little honesty, “It’s not okay, actually, but we’ll talk later.”
Avery nods fast. “Yeah. Yeah, totally.”
Garrett feels her hand press once into his side, a warning without looking at him. Behave.
He looks at Avery and gives the tightest nod known to man. Avery, wisely, accepts that as mercy.
“You’re really jealous,” she says, softly enough that it isn’t quite an accusation.
Garrett lets out a breath and looks down at his hand. “Yeah.”
“It’s kind of stupid.”
“I know.”
“You know I have to do partner work.”
“I know that too.”
“And Avery isn’t–”
“I know,” he says again, then looks up at her properly because she deserves that much, even if it is embarrassing and he would rather be hit by a slow-moving Zamboni than have Dean hear any of it. “I know. It’s not about him. Not really.”
Her expression shifts, the teasing thinning into something gentler.
Garrett drags a hand through his hair. “I just hate watching somebody else be the one who catches you.” His mouth twists because that sounds bigger than he meant it to, but it's out now. “And then he didn’t.”
Her face goes very still.
“Sorry,” he mutters. “That was–”
“No,” she says. “No, I get it.”
“You do?”
She nods once, slow. “I like that you want to be the one who catches me.”
Garrett stares at her.
Her cheeks colour almost immediately, but she holds his gaze anyway, shy and sore and sitting in terrible fluorescent lighting with a scraped elbow and ice melt dampening one side of her tights, and somehow she has the nerve to look at him like that. Like he's something she trusts even when the day has literally dropped her onto a rink.
Then, because she clearly cannot survive sincerity for more than seven seconds without offering herself an exit, she adds, “Even if you’re being a psycho about waist contact.”
Garrett laughs, low and helpless. “I’m not being a psycho.”
“You called him Avocado.”
“Yeah, well.” He lifts his head, mouth curving despite himself. “He dropped my girlfriend.”
She softens again at the word. My girlfriend still does that to her sometimes, which Garrett has noticed and absolutely files away like a criminal. Her fingers squeeze his.
“Your girlfriend is okay,” she says.
“Your boyfriend is not.”
“Poor thing.”
“Thank you.”
“You should get him looked at.”
“Too late.”
She smiles then, small and lovely and a little wincing at the edges, and Garrett ducks his head just enough to kiss her. It’s careful because of the shoulder, because of the hallway, because the boys could come back any second with ice and concern and eleven jokes between them.
But it’s still enough. His mouth presses to hers once, warm and grounding, and she exhales into it like the day has finally found a softer place to land.
to be notified when i post new fics, follow @kooksandpearls-library and turn on notifications! i no longer use a taglist.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Summary: Lando talks y/n down off a ledge when she feels like it's not worth going anymore.
Warnings/themes: Suicide attempt, depression
Word count: 1.8k
Lando knows how it is. He's never felt such extreme lows of feeling like he doesn't want to be there but he knows that y/n struggles like that. He knows that she hurts emotionally but when he tried calling her and she wouldn't answer. He panicked.
Last time he saw her, she didn't want to get out of bed but he couldn't stay so he hoped that staying in bed would be the worst of it. But it's worse. She's disappeared, her car is gone and there's nothing there to explain why she isn't there.
She has her location on and the moment he sees it, he trips stumbling over his feet as as he rushes to leave while Max and P frown in confusion.
"She's on a bridge." Lando chokes out climbing in his car and calling the police in hopes to have someone professional there who actually knows what to do in these situations.
By the time he gets there he's beat the police. He can see her car and her body sitting on the railing, looking down at the rushing water beneath her. The bridge is high and the water is shallow because of the time of year.
"Baby?" Lando sighs not wanting to spook her and make her act impulsively. "Baby, please come back over onto this side. Please."
She doesn't react, it's as if she didn't even hear him or notice he's there. Her chest is visibly heaving, her face glimmering with tear streaks.
Whatever is going through her head it's putting her through mental and physical agony.
Finally flashing lights appear on the scene and her attention is caught, eyes landing on Lando and the expression of devastation tells him she didn't hear a word. She was deaf to anything but her own thoughts.
Lando waves his hands gesturing for them to just stay where they are as he nears her.
"Please come back on this side." Lando repeats as he gets close enough that he could grab her but she suddenly shifts away.
"I just want things to get better. Everything keeps getting worse." Y/n hiccups wobbling in her balance but Lando knows better than to shoot forward because that could be it.
"We can get you help baby. We can but we can't do that if you're not here."
"I don't know if anyone can help anymore. You deserve better-how did you find me?"
"I will always find you." And he's not going to tell her exactly how because that might lead to her turning her location off. "I love you and I won't let you ever think otherwise. You don't realise it but if you leave me. I will find you in the next life and every life after that. You'll take a piece of me with you."
"You deserve better than me."
Lando takes an opportunity to close the space a little.
"Don't make me search for you when I've already found you now. You have so much life left, baby. So much life that I'm going to make it my mission to show you every single day why not leaving this life today will be worth it." Lando promises making her lip quiver shifting her weight but whatever she was going to do. Whatever decision she'd made. Lando reaches and grabs her sweater and yanking her backwards onto his side, cushioning her fall as they both land back.
Y/n completely falls apart against him as the police finally close in, an ambulance on site and they secure to make sure if she tries to get back up, she'll be stopped from following through.
Max appears on his own not wanting to bring P in fear of the outcome and knowing that Lando wouldn't want more people there than necessary.
"She's ok. They're checking her over, but they're taking her for an evaluation. I'm gonna go with her." Lando sighs then clearing his throat. "Can you text my brother and see if he'll pick up my car?"
"Yeah, of course. Of course."
-
The medication left y/n a void of life. She sleeps a lot, she eats enough to get by and she drinks when she's told to. It's almost like she's a puppet rather than a person.
But Lando was just relieved they discharged her. Whether it is the right choice or not is a hard call to make, but Lando wants her with him. He wants to be able to oversee what she's doing and be the one to take care of her.
He'll love her at her lowest because he's determined to help her back to her highest.
"Hey pretty girl, you're up." Lando smiles noticing y/n walk into his gaming room. He'd spent the first few days by her side, lying in the bed with her, holding her, watching her breathe and informing anyone and everyone who asked after her about how she is doing. "You feeling ok?"
"My legs were starting to ache just lying in bed. I need to just walk around." Y/n mumbles earning a nod before she swallows thickly, tears welling up in her eyes. "And uhh...I owe you an-"
"You owe me nothing. This is love, baby. It's unconditional and it doesn't need an apology or a thanks. Ok?" Lando cuts in not about to accept an apology for keeping her with him, in fact he practically forced her to live.
"I don't really want to sleep anymore."
"Ok, then you don't have to." Lando nods since her medication has included sedatives just to try and keep her from being able to leave on her own accord. "You have a call with Georgia in a bit, you can tell her that we're gonna stop with them."
Y/n nods then biting her lip before Lando pulls her into his lap, uncaring of the game that he's just lost interest in. Max will get over it.
"How are you feeling?" Lando asks softly making her sigh.
"Like I need to shower and scrub like 10 layers of skin off, a McDonalds-or Five Guys would be good."
"Mmm. Five Guys would be so good. The cajun fries would be so good." Lando agrees with a groan smiling as he sees the return of his girlfriend begin to peek through. It's crumbs and it's going to be a long time before she returns to even how she was right before the incident. "How about a McDonalds and then after your call we can fly back over to London and stay there a couple days? See some people if you're up for but, but really just get Five Guys."
"I don't know how the world gave me you in my life. But you're the best thing that's ever happened to me." Y/n states with a weak smile.
"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me too baby." Lando grins then catching her in a kiss that he's so relieved for her to melt into.
It's going to be a slow and long journey, one that potentially never really sees an end. The human mind is complex and no one has taught Lando that more than y/n. Because he knows she loves him and he knows that she'd never want to hurt him, he's a priority in her life but when she was sitting on that bridge. He wasn't there in her head because the good things don't sit at the forefront in those moments and he is a good thing but he just wasn't outshining the dark thoughts shrouding her brain.
"I don't know if I want to handle seeing people yet." Y/n whispers making Lando smile.
"I didn't really want to see anyone either, I just wanted to put the option on the table if you did." Lando chuckles earning a grateful smile. "Just us and Five Guys."
"That sounds perfect." Y/n nods before she leans into his touch. "I'm so happy I have you."
"Not nearly as happy as I am to have you." Lando sighs then drumming his hands on her thigh. "McDonald's I'll tell Max I'm logging off and we can eat."
"Thank you."
-
It took a couple weeks and while none of the events had caught wind in the media, there was a couple people within the paddock who knew about what happened, only people who Lando knew really cared for her.
Max offered to fly to the race so Lando knew y/n was with someone he could trust to take care of her.
"I'll be ok." Y/n assures Lando noticing his anxiety as he bites as the skin on his thumb. "I've taken all my pills. I'm feeling ok."
Her words are careful, not saying she's good or feeling great. But she's ok, he can accept ok is the truth and not an exaggeration while not being something he needs to worry about.
"I love you." Lando states wrapping his arms around her and hugging her tightly, kissing her neck as he nuzzles his face into her neck. "I don't care what I'm doing, if you need me then come get me."
"Mmm...so run out on the track to flag you down?" Y/n jokes proving that she has still got some sort of a sense of humour intact. "I don't want to be a source of concern if it effects you so much by me being here."
"It'd effect me if you weren't here baby. I want to be able to see you and know you're ok." Lando sighs squeezing her a little more. "I love you."
"I love you too, I love you so much." Y/n smiles moving back just enough to be able to force him into a kiss that he immediately melts into it. "It's gonna take time for me to really get back to myself-"
"Don't. You don't need to explain or apologise. I'm happy that you're here, that's all I care about and so long as we're making progress. That's what I care about and I know you are. I know we're all making progress." Lando cuts in nodding reassuringly as he makes sure to look her in the eyes. "Just promise you'll come over and speak to me or just come and stand with me-hug me-hold my hand. Whatever you want. Just promise, ok?"
"I promise." Y/n smiles lightly before they hear the knock at the door. "Jon or Max, who are you betting?"
Summary: Y/n has been hiding that she's sick so when she takes a turn and ends up taking herself to A&E for a precaution, Lando returns home ready to take her out on a date and finds she's not home waiting like she promised.
Themes/warnings: Some graphic description of sickness
Word count: 1.4k
Lying to Lando isn't a habit y/n really wants to get herself into. She doesn't enjoy it but there's nothing he'll do but worry because he has to work, and it's not like he isn't aware she's sick. She didn't go to the race weekend with him because she didn't feel up for the flight but he wasn't made aware just the extent of how ill she is.
However, this morning she really took a turn and her sick was just a little pink.
Now she's waiting in the hospital for tests to come back just to make sure she's not dying. This probably should've been the moment she told Lando but if it's nothing then she's stressed him unnecessarily.
Though she doesn't pay enough attention to the time since she's dozing in an out of a fever induced sleep. So she has no idea that Lando has returned to Monaco with Max and Pietra in tow.
"You guys just wait here, I'll run up and grab y/n then we'll go for dinner." Lando smiles climbing out his car and tapping the roof as he rushes up to his apartment. "Baby! Get dressed, we're going on a date! Max and P are waiting in the car for us so we gotta hurry!"
Silence. Not even a creak of movement.
"Baby?" Lando calls out with a small frown before beginning to call out for her just walking around the apartment. "Baby? Are you hiding?"
He pulls his phone out, checking that she's not left any messages or that he's missed some calls. Then as a last resort he checks her location and practically feels his heart plummet when he sees her little dot in hospital.
"Fuck. Ah fuck. Baby, pick up the phone." Lando curses rushing back out the apartment as he tries to call her and it just rings till her voicemail sounds. "Fuck. What the fuck happened?"
He nearly dives in the car and doesn't even explain where they're going before they're moving.
"Fucking hell mate, what happened?" Max questions as he clings onto the handle of the door.
"Y/n is in the hospital. I can't get hold of her. There's no note. She's not left any messages or tried to call. I don't know why she's there." Lando rambles actually being grateful that Monaco is such a small place so it's not a far drive even if he can't speed like he wants to.
"I've got the car. You go." Max states when they pull up and Lando is trying to find somewhere to park. "We'll catch up."
"Thanks mate." Lando rushes out before he disappears into the hospital.
It takes him some time to get y/n's location since the staff are uncertain about trusting him to be who he says he is to her. But as soon as he knows, he's running through the hallways to get to her room, where she's actually being let go with some antibiotics. It's the flu but with her immune system weakened, she's got a chest infection and tonsillitis. The blood in her sick was purely from her throat being raw from the acid and bile.
Lando actually almost clotheslines her from rushing around a corner but both him and the nurse catch her frail body before she actually falls.
"Hey-hey, baby." Lando states looking at the young woman with some serious concern.
"Lando? You're here." Y/n mumbles then moving away to try and avoid getting him sick. "You can't be near me I'm sick and it's contagious."
"Home and rest. Keep her hydrated, that's important. If she can't maintain fluids, bring her back."
"Thank you." Lando nods taking y/n's hand despite her trying to evade his touch but he forces her hand into his own and holds it tight enough that she can't force him to let go. Not that she really has thee energy to do so.
"If you can get some food into her tomorrow when the antibiotics have kicked in that would probably help her perk up but if her stomach can't handle it then don't force it. The last thing needed is her being sick anymore."
Lando makes a mental note before beginning the walk to get y/n home.
"You should've told me, baby. I could've have someone come take care of you and make sure you were ok-which you clearly weren't." Lando mumbles not wanting to lecture the young woman because she's just not in the right physical state to fight about anything.
Y/n actually puts on a mask that she'd take from one of the nurses when she's in the car though Max lets her take the passenger seat and she opens the window feeling the cooler night air sting against her burning skin.
"I can drop you guys off for the dinner. The reservation is still there." Lando comments making the two immediately decline while y/n remains silent, wanting to insist they go but it actually hurts to speak from the damage she's done from her throat.
When they get back to Lando's apartment he rushes y/n to the bedroom as a means of isolating the sickness while Pietra and Max actually decide to clean the apartment, which is really just to help disinfect and reduce the chances of also falling ill.
They've also decided to get on a flight out of there because Pietra has decided that if she was sick having guests over is the last thing she'd want.
"Water. Cold towel. I'll change the sheets later when you've rested a little." Lando mumbles to himself then sighing as he picks up the medication and begins mumbling about what she needs to take and when before setting alarms and reminders on his phone.
"You're going to get sick." Y/n mumbles which only earns and eye roll as he continues muttering to himself about her medication, not even giving her comment a moment of thought as he continues. "Lando."
"I'm taking care of you and if I get sick, then so be it." Lando sighs shaking his head before he smiles. "I can't believe you're so sick. Three separate illnesses. Three, baby."
"I know."
"No more talking from you until your tonsils at least clear up. I'm going to go check on Max and P, but I'll be right back. You sleep."
-
Max and P left but with Lando not having a race this weekend, he was able to stay with y/n and no have any interruption.
"Are you sure you just want noodles?" Lando asks as he hands her another bowl of the cheap instant noodles she's basically lived on for the past 2 days since she finally started keeping food down again.
"It's a low risk comfort food." Y/n pouts earning a nod as Lando plops down next to her with a sigh and pulls her to sit between his legs as he leans against the sofa armrest and sits side on.
"But you're feeling a bit better?" Lando questions immediately watching her smile and nod as she spins the fork and gathers enough noodles for a mouthful.
"Much much better." Y/n confirms then sighing as she leans back against him. "Not 100% but so much better. I genuinely felt like the doctor might tell me I was going to die."
"Please tell me next time baby. Even if I can't do anything, I can at least check on you and I can try to send someone to make sure you're alright." Lando mumbles hating the thought of his girlfriend not being well and just suffering on her own.
"I know. I promise I'll tell you next time. I promise." Y/n sighs as he kisses her neck gently. "Sorry."
"Don't be sorry. I just want to know so I can fuss over you and smother you with love while you're ill." Lando smiles snaking his arms around her waist. I like being your nurse."
"I'm sure you do." Y/n laughs lightly before taking another mouthful of noodles. "I'd offer you some but I still have germs."
"Yeah, and you don't really want to share with me. I know you."
Love of my Life is Yet to Come @vrittivsanghavi - Tumblr Blog | Tumlook
